#tucking this in the back of my brain with my animation ideas

[chosok-amo]

THE CLOWN HAS BEEN FOUND s. gojo

★ sum. the baggy clothes, the glasses, the book, the brain— sum : a nerd, that’s what you are. a center of attention, but not because of how beautiful and popular and everyone wants to date you— no, but because you are a loser. and the popular boys have a bet who’s get to sleep with you first and pop the cherry.

warning. college au, ōral ( m & f receiving ), fingēring, dirty talk, hair-pulling, bit name-calling, petnames, praise, cherry pop mentioned, unprotected sēx.

the four of them—geto, gojo, toji, and sukuna—sat sprawled out under the big willow tree on campus, a prime spot they’d claimed as their own. the tree’s branches hung low, providing shade from the afternoon sun, and it seemed to be the perfect place for them to lounge around, their laughter and conversation echoing through the quiet space. they were the popular boys on campus, infamous for their looks, athleticism, and wealth, and equally notorious for their cocky, careless attitudes—a magnetic combination that somehow made them both admired and hated.

they were deep in some joke, laughing obnoxiously, when toji’s gaze drifted, his laughter fading as his eyes settled on something—or rather, someone—in the distance. his smirk widened as he cocked his chin in your direction, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“look at her,” toji muttered, loud enough for the others to hear. the way he said it held a certain bite, like he’d just stumbled upon something amusing.

the other three followed his gaze, their eyes landing on you, sitting off to the side with a thick textbook open in your lap. you were tucked into yourself, shoulders hunched slightly, completely absorbed in whatever you were reading. your clothes were baggy, drowning your frame in layers that did little to give away any shape. the oversized hoodie practically swallowed you, sleeves pulled down almost to your fingertips. your glasses kept sliding down your nose, and every now and then, you’d push them back up absently, clearly too lost in your book to notice much else.

“oh, the classic nerd look,” sukuna sneered, his eyes narrowing as he looked you over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “cute,” he added mockingly, though there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he found the whole thing entertaining.

gojo let out a low snort, shaking his head as he took a long drag from his cigarette, smoke curling around him in lazy spirals. he leaned forward, one arm bracing against the grass. his eyes still on you, but there was a mocking amusement dancing in them now. he exhaled slowly, a smirk pulling at his lips as he glanced over at sukuna, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“what’s this, sukuna? into the nerdy type now?” he taunted, tilting his head as he raised an eyebrow. his tone was layered with mockery, his smirk widening as if the very idea was too ridiculous to believe. “thought you had a thing for a girl with big tits.”

sukuna rolled his eyes, but his smirk didn’t waver. “naaah, not my type,” he shot back, his gaze flicking back to you briefly before he shrugged. “just saying she’s… amusing. probably jumps if someone even looks at her.”

“oh, definitely,” geto chimed in with a chuckle, folding his arms as he looked you over with a lazy curiosity. “bet she’s terrified of guys like us.”

toji laughed, shaking his head as he looked back at the others. “please, she’d probably faint if you even said hi.” they all shared a laugh, a mixture of arrogance and amusement, reveling in the thought. to them, you were just another quiet, unassuming girl in a sea of faces, someone they could easily overlook—or mess with, if the mood struck.

gojo snickered. “hell, she probably doesn’t even know we exist,” he taunted, his smirk growing ever more patronizing as he puffed out another plume of smoke. “probably spends her nights in her room, surrounded by books and stuffed animals. bet she’s never even been to a party.”

geto chuckled, leaning back with a mocking smile. “oh please, she’s probably never even been kissed.”

toji smirked, adding to the barrage of mockery. “god, she’s probably never been touched by a guy either, huh?” he chimed in, his words dripping with lewd undertones. he took another drag of his cigarette, then glanced back at you, eyeing you up and down again, his smirk widening into a leering grin. “bet she’s a complete virgin.”

there was a collective burst of laughter from the three of them, their voices loud and harsh in the otherwise peaceful afternoon air.

sukuna, his smirk still firmly in place, leaned back against the tree, his arms crossed. “yeah, she’s probably saving herself for her dream guy,” he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “probably wants some perfect fairytale romance. what a joke.”

toji let out a low, dark snicker, his gaze flickering back to you as his smirk widened into something almost predatory. he leaned forward slightly, the cruel glint in his green eyes sharpening as he watched you, completely oblivious to the way they were talking about you.

“oh, please,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mock amusement. “give me an hour with her, and i’d pop that cherry first,” he said, his scarred lips twisting into a wider smirk, a glimmer of cruelty evident in his gaze.

the other guys laughed again, their voices mingling in the harsh, arrogant way only they could manage. for them, it was a game—a chance to mock and taunt someone so outside their world.

geto snort, “yeah, right.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he took another casual drag from his cigarette, shaking his head at toji’s words. “big talk, man. you are too scary, let me take the ‘pop’,” he said, his voice laced with a mischievousness.

sukuna let out another sharp huff of laughter, his gaze trailing over you disdainfully, his smirk a mix of mockery and condescension. “yeah, good luck with that,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “bet she’d faint if you even came close to her.”

but toji didn’t seem worried, his smirk only growing wider, a cruel gleam in his eyes as he continued watching you, a dark challenge present in his expression.

“oh, i’d get her,” he said, his voice oozing a dangerous sort of confidence. his eyes darkened, his smirk turning almost feral as he looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers idly.

“she wouldn’t even know what hit her.”

sukuna raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leaned in, matching toji’s dark energy with a glint of excitement in his own crimson eyes. he crossed his arms, tilting his head with a look that practically dared the others to take him up on his idea.

“let’s make it interesting, boys,” sukuna drawled, his tone laced with twisted amusement. “how about a little wager? who’s gonna get to pop the cherry first?”

the idea hung in the air, laced with a sense of cruel playfulness. the others exchanged looks, smirks widening as they took in the challenge, their gazes flickering back to you as you remained completely unaware, hidden in your book and blissfully out of earshot.

gojo’s smirk only widened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the idea. he took another puff from his cigarette, eyeing sukuna with amusement, clearly intrigued by the proposal. “a wager?” he asked, his voice tinted with a hint of curiosity. “what’s the prize?”

geto chuckled, the idea clearly appealing to him as well. he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he chimed in. “i’m in,” he said, his smirk mirroring the others.

sukuna shrugged, an amused gleam flashing through his crimson eyes as he glanced over at you, still utterly engrossed in your book and completely unaware of the bet unfolding among the boys. his smirk deepened as he looked back at the others, his tone casual yet laced with dark amusement.

“anything you want,” he replied smoothly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. he paused, his gaze flickering back to you for a brief moment before adding, “but there’s one condition—whoever wins has to take a photo as proof.”

the challenge hung heavy in the air, each of them exchanging glances, their smirks widening in unison. the thought of the twisted little game gave them all a sense of cruel excitement, feeding their arrogant thrill as they eyed you once more, already imagining how they’d play this out.

gojo let out a low snort, his smirk growing into a smirk of his own. he took another draw on his cigarette before tilting his head slightly, his expression shifting into one of agreement. “deal.” he said, his tone laced with a hint of determination.

geto chuckled softly, his eyes flickering to you once more before he nodded his agreement. “i’m in,” he added, his smirk mirrorring the others, clearly liking the idea of the bet.

toji chuckled, a cruel gleam appearing in his green eyes as he looked at the others, the idea of the bet stirring something wicked inside of him. he leaned back, his smirk growing wider as he nodded. “i’m in,” he echoed, his voice lower than before, filled with an almost excited tension.

it had been a strange week, to say the least. the four most popular boys on campus—geto, sukuna, toji, and especially gojo—had suddenly taken an interest in you, a stark contrast to the way they’d mostly ignored you before. they’d pop up in places they normally wouldn’t be, go out of their way to hold doors open or throw you playful smiles, and act… almost charming. but you weren’t buying it, especially not gojo’s relentless attempts to convince you to tutor him. every time he begged for your help, you’d shut him down without a second thought.

today was no different. you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, lost in your studies, when you heard the sound of a chair being pulled out beside you. you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. with a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes and refocused on your notes, determined to ignore him.

“oh, come on,” gojo drawled, leaning in close with a pout as he rested his elbows on the table, clearly unfazed by your cold response. “i really need help, you know. i’m hopeless without you.” his tone was dripping with exaggerated desperation, but there was a playful glint in his eyes as he watched for any reaction.

you kept your gaze fixed on your book, trying to block him out. “then maybe you should try actually paying attention in class,” you muttered, flipping a page, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone.

but gojo just leaned closer, his voice dropping to a softer, almost persuasive tone. “come on, i’ll owe you one. just one study session. i’ll even buy you coffee,” he offered, flashing you his signature charming smile, like he thought that was all it would take to wear you down.

“not interested,” you replied flatly, turning another page without looking up. you could feel his gaze on you, persistent as ever, but you were determined not to give him the satisfaction.

gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes narrowing slightly. he leaned even closer, his lips almost at your ear, as if daring you to ignore him. “come on, please?” he begged again, his tone dripping with fake desperation, his voice low and tantalizingly close. “just one little tutoring session. i’ll do anything.”

you froze, your pen pausing mid-word as the warmth of gojo’s hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers grazing just under the hem of your skirt. his touch was light, teasing, and you could feel your heart race at the audacity of his move. irritation flared within you, but when you turned to him, ready to give him a piece of your mind, you were met with that damn smirk of his—a look of pure, unbothered confidence.

his face was so close that you could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he whispered, “please?”

his voice was soft, almost seductive, and despite the irritation simmering beneath your calm facade, you could see the glint of amusement in his narrowed blue eyes, fully aware of the effect he was trying to have on you. your eyes narrowed, meeting his challenge, and you gave him a cold, leveled stare, unfazed by his proximity.

you lifted a brow, voice cool as ice. “is this your idea of begging, gojo?”

his smirk didn’t waver; if anything, it grew wider, clearly thrilled by your reaction. “i can be very persuasive,” he murmured, letting his fingers ghost over your thigh, just enough to keep your attention.

he leaned in even closer, his smirk widening further. his lips grazed your ear as he spoke again, his voice low and smooth, like silk. “and i can be very convincing,” he whispered, his hand sliding further up your thigh, leaving a trail of heated tingles in its wake.

you inhaled sharply, his breath hot against your skin as his words lingered in your ear, and you could feel your resolve slipping, his touch relentless and daring as his hand slid further up your thigh. the warmth of his fingers, the confidence in his voice—it was infuriatingly hard to ignore, and you could tell he knew it, that smirk of his only growing as he watched your reaction.

you turned to him, catching his gaze, meeting his smug look with one of quiet defiance. the words were barely a whisper as you muttered, “fine.”

his eyes lit up, triumphant, as if he’d known all along you’d give in, but you held his gaze steadily, a hint of warning still lingering there. “just one session,” you clarified, your voice firm, trying to reassert control even as you felt a flicker of warmth in your cheeks.

gojo’s smirk deepened, seemingly satisfied with your response. his hand paused, still resting on your thigh, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin, sending chills through your body.

“just one, huh?” he echoed, his voice low, thick with satisfaction. he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck, his lips practically grazing your skin as he spoke again. “don’t worry, i’ll make it count.”

he paused, his fingers tracing small, slow circles on your thigh, the gesture almost innocent, yet the meaning behind it clear. he looked at you, his gaze almost challenging, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes as he noticed your slight shiver at his touch. he leaned in further, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

“my place or yours?” he purred, his tone dripping with suggestion, his hand gradually making its way higher up your leg.

and that’s where you are . . .

gojo smirks down at you, his eyes roaming over your nerdy appearance hungrily, knees on the floor inside his dorm room. “thanks for coming to tutor me today. i really appreciate it,” his voice drips with false sincerity as he palms himself through his jeans.

“i’ve been struggling with this subject and i’ve heard you’re the best at explaining things.” gojo leans back on his hands, spreading his legs wider to give you an even better view of the bulge straining against his zipper. “why don’t you come closer and we can start going over the material? i’m all yours, baby.” his thumb pinch your chin, the soft pad of his finger trailing off your skin before slipping past your swollen lips into your mouth.

he chuckles softly, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you squirm. “aww, what’s wrong? you look nervous. there’s no need to be shy around me.”

you swallow hard, your heart pounding in my chest as you kneel before gojo, feeling small and insignificant compared to his tall, muscular frame. your glasses slip down your nose slightly as you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“oh, um, t-thank you gojo-kun,” you stammer out, your voice quivering slightly. you shift nervously on your knees, very aware of how vulnerable your position makes you feel. and when gojo’s thumb pushes past your lips, you instinctively close your mouth around it, sucking lightly from habit before realizing what you were doing. a deep blush spreads across your cheeks.

“i’m just a bit overwhelmed, to be honest,” you managed to murmur, voice muffled by his thumb.

gojo’s smirk widens as he feels your warm, wet mouth envelop his thumb. he slowly pumps the digit in and out, mimicking a lewd act. “mmm, don’t be like that, cutie. i promise i won’t bite... much.” he winks salaciously.

his free hand reaches out to cup your burning cheek, calloused fingers brushing over the delicate skin. “you’re so cute when you’re flustered like this. it’s adorable how innocent you are.” gojo leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your face. the musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils.

“tell you what, why don’t you put that clever tongue of yours to good use and help me relax a bit before we dive into studying?” his thumb presses deeper into your mouth insistently.

you whimper softly as gojo’s thumb invades your mouth more insistently, your tongue automatically swirling around the invading digit. your mind races, trying to process the sudden intimate contact and the heavy implication behind his words.

“i’m not sure if this is appropriate, gojo-kun,” you manage to say around his thumb after pulling back slightly, your voice muffled. “we should focus on the tutoring session...”

despite your weak protests, you can feel your body reacting to gojo’s proximity and touch— a traitorous heat pooling low in your belly, your cunt starting to clenching around nothing in your skirt. you squirm uncomfortably on your knees, hyper-aware of your submissive posture before him.

“what exactly did you have in mind?”

gojo chuckles darkly, amused by your feeble attempt at protest. he grips your hair, tugging your head back to expose the slender column of your throat. “oh, i think we both know this is exactly what we came here for, isn’t it?”

his other hand moves to palm his aching erection through his jeans, the thick outline unmistakable. “i had something much more... educational in mind than boring textbooks.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers huskily, “why don’t you be a good girl and put those pretty lips to work? show me what that smart mouth of yours can do besides spouting facts.” he uses his grip on your hair to guide your face towards his crotch, rubbing your cheek against the prominent bulge.

gojo groans softly as he feels your soft cheek pressed against his throbbing erection. he grinds subtly against you, seeking more friction. “fuuuck, you feel so good already. i bet these nerdy little lips will wrap around my cock perfectly.”

with his other hand, he starts unbuckling his belt, the metallic clink seeming obscenely loud in the quiet room. he pops the button of his jeans and slowly drags down the zipper, letting them gape open to reveal the waistband of his boxers straining over his massive bulge.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else,” gojo growls possessively. “by the time ’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is choking on my dick.”

the idea was overwhelming— the thought of ruining you and winning the bet performed a cloud in gojo’s head. you gasp sharply as gojo forces your face against his clothed erection, the heat and hardness searing into your cheek. your eyes widen at his crude words, a shiver running down your spine— equal parts fear and reluctant excitement.

“g-gojo-kun, please...” you whimper, your voice high and thready. “we shouldn’t... i-i’ve never...”

despite your halfhearted protests, you find yourself leaning into his touch, nuzzling almost imperceptibly against the thick ridge of his cock. the scent of his arousal is dizzying this close, musk and sweat and pure male essence flooding your senses. trembling fingers come up to tentatively brush against his hipbones as his zipper lowers with agonizing slowness.

gojo smirks cruelly as he hears the tremor in your voice, relishing how easily he can affect you. “shh, it’s okay baby. i’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he croons mockingly.

he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly peels them down, freeing his enormous, rock-hard cock. it springs out, slapping against your cheek with a meaty thwack. the thick shaft pulses with need, the flared head an angry purple and leaking copious amounts of precum.

you let out a choked moan as gojo’s huge, throbbing cock slaps against your cheek, leaving a smear of sticky pre-cum on your soft skin. your eyes widen in shock at the sheer size of him, intimidated but undeniably aroused.

“open wide, nerd. i’ve got a big load for you,” gojo taunts crudely. he fists his hand in your hair again, using his grip to angle your face towards his weeping cockhead. “stick out that clever little tongue. i want to see you worship every inch of my big, fat cock like the desperate slut you are.”

“oh god...” you whimper, your tongue darting out to unconsciously lick your lips. the salty-sweet taste of his essence explodes across your taste buds, making your head spin. with trembling hands, you reach up to grasp his muscular thighs for support as he forces your face closer to his imposing manhood. your glasses fog up slightly from your quickened breathing. “i’ve never done this before,” you admit in a tiny, scared voice.

gojo grins wickedly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic lust as he sees the fear and reluctant desire warring in your expression. “that’s alright, that’s why i’m here, you’re about to get the fucking of a lifetime to your virgin pussy,” he grunted.

he rubs the swollen head of his cock all over your face, smearing your cheeks and lips with his slick precum. the musky scent fills your nostrils, making your head swim with overwhelming pheromones. “open up, baby, take my cock like a good girl. promise it feels good, do you trust me?” sweet, his honeyed voice suddenly heavy with sweetness.

but despite that, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing the broad tip past your lips and onto your tongue. he groans at the wet heat engulfing him, head just a beat throw back before snapped, eyes lock with your lips taking the half of his cock. “fuck yes, that’s it. wrap those pretty lips around me.”

you let out a muffled yelp as gojo suddenly pushes past your lips, his thick cock stretching your jaw painfully wide you almost sure the edge of your lips stretch open. your eyes water as he hilts himself inside your virgin mouth, the bulbous head hitting the back of your throat. you gag reflexively, throat spasming around his girth.

“mph!” you try to pull back but his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his impressive size. your small hands come up to weakly push at his thighs, overwhelmed by the intrusion.

after a moment, you force yourself to relax your jaw, breathing heavily through your nose. you start to experimentally suckle at the head, your tongue swirling clumsily around it. the taste of his skin and the musky scent flooding your senses is dizzying.

gojo throws his head back with a deep groan as your inexperienced mouth envelops him, your tongue clumsily lapping at his sensitive flesh. the sight of your stretched lips wrapped around his thick cock, tears glistening on your flushed cheeks, is incredibly erotic.

“that’s it, take it deeper,” he growls, fisting his hand tighter in your hair. with a sharp thrust of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt in your convulsing throat. your nose presses against his pelvis as he hilts inside you, cutting off your air supply completely.

“that’s good baby, goood job,” praise after praise fallen from gojo’s pretty, pink lips. he holds you there, savoring the feeling of your constricting esophagus fluttering around his cock. after several long seconds, he finally pulls back, allowing you a gasping breath before plunging in again.

gojo sets a brutal pace, fucking your face with deep, powerful thrusts. each snap of his hips drives his thick cock into your throat, forcing you to swallow around him. drool escapes the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin as he uses your mouth mercilessly.

“you’re doing so well for your first time,” he praises mockingly, voice strained with pleasure. “such an eager little cock sleeve, aren’t you? born to choke on a cock.” he pulls out abruptly, his spit-shined cock bobbing obscenely in front of your face. gojo smacks the heavy shaft against your tear-stained cheeks, smearing them with your own saliva mixed with his precum. “strip,” he commands gruffly, releasing his grip on your hair.

gojo looms over you, his chest heaving with exertion and arousal as he watches you intently. his eyes rake over your disheveled form, drinking in the sight of your reddened cheeks, puffy lips glistening with spit, and the way your glasses sit askew on your face.

“come on, slowpoke. i want to see every inch of the body hiding under those ugly clothes,” he growls impatiently, one hand coming down to roughly palm himself through his open fly. the other reaches out to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging insistently. but, instead of slipping out of your ‘ugly’ clothes, you stand there, eyes widened innocently the way you look up to him.

“don’t make me rip them off. you wouldn’t want me to damage your precious belongings, would ya?“ a wicked smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, eyes glinting with mischief and barely restrained hunger.

you tremble under gojo’s hungry gaze, acutely aware of how debauched you must look— face flushed, glasses fogged, lips swollen and slick with spit. with shaking hands, you reach for the buttons of your shirt, fumbling to undo them one by one.

as more of your creamy skin is revealed, gojo’s eyes darken with undisguised lust. he licks his lips, watching avidly as you shrug the garment off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. underneath, you wear a plain white lacy bra, the fabric straining slightly over your bust.

next, you stand on wobbly legs to shimmy out of your skirt, letting it pool around your ankles before stepping out of it. your panties match your bra, simple cotton with lace. “gojo-kun..” you murmur, hands hovering over your bra and panties, hiding yourself.

gojo’s heated gaze roams hungrily over your newly exposed body, lingering on the swell of your breasts straining against the delicate lace of your bra. he steps closer, crowding into your personal space until the hard planes of his body press against your softer curves.

“fuck, you’re even hotter than i imagined,” he rasps, calloused fingers trailing up your sides to cup your tits possessively. never in a million years had he found a loser nerd like you could be this hot, and it seems like his cock agrees with the way it’s twitching. he squeezes the soft mounds, thumbs flicking over your nipples through the thin fabric until they pebble beneath his touch, pushing a breathless gasp out of your throat.

with a wicked grin, gojo reaches behind you and deftly unclasps your bra, tossing it aside carelessly. cool air hits your bare skin, pebbling your nipples further as they’re bared to his intense scrutiny.

“perfect.”

gojo hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs in one swift motion. the flimsy material catches on your knees briefly before falling to your ankles, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.

he takes a step back, drinking in the sight of your naked body with an appreciative hum. his eyes linger on the cute, neat patch of curls crowning your mound, the slight flare of your hips, the gentle swell of your ass. “goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs reverently.

without warning, gojo drops to his knees in front of you, large hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart. he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your most intimate parts. “i bet this sweet cunt tastes divine,” he growls, dragging his tongue along your slit in one long, painfully slow stroke.

you can’t help but let out a startled moan as gojo’s warm tongue drags along your most intimate folds, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. your knees buckle slightly and you have to brace yourself against the wall to keep from collapsing under the intensity of sensation.

“g-gojo-kun!” you gasp, fingers tangling in his silver hair as he laps at your slit like a man starved. his tongue delves between your lower lips, seeking out your entrance and circling it teasingly. you squirm against the invasion, thighs trembling with the effort to hold still.

gojo chuckles lowly, the vibrations making you shudder. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. “ah! ahh!”

gojo moans into your pussy as you grind against his face, his tongue delving deep inside your fluttering walls. he laps at your juices greedily, the obscene slurping sounds filling the room. “mmm, you taste even better than i imagined,” he growls, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “so fucking sweet.”

his hands grip your ass, kneading the supple globes as he eats you out with single-minded focus. he alternates between thrusting his tongue in and out of your clenching hole and flicking the tip rapidly over your throbbing clit. the lewd wet noises echo off the walls, mingling with your needy whimpers and gasps.

“oooh! m-my god!” you writhe helplessly against gojo’s relentless assault, fingers digging into his silver hair as waves of overwhelming pleasure crash over you. your hips undulate shamelessly, grinding your aching core against his face as he devours you like a man possessed.

“that’s it, ride my tongue,” he grunt, the words muffled against your soaked folds. you throw your head back with a keening cry as gojo works you over with his skilled tongue, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. your fingers tighten reflexively in his hair, tugging sharply at the silvery strands.

“ah! g-gojo-kun!” you gasp brokenly, toes curling against the cool tile floor. your inner muscles flutter wildly around his invading tongue.

gojo growls into your pussy, the sound sending delicious vibrations through your core. he doubles his efforts, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard while simultaneously thrusting two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your spasming channel.

“g-gojo-hng!” you sob brokenly, hips continue to roll shamelessly against his face. you mewl helplessly into the filthy kiss, when gojo’s tongue dominating yours as he claims your mouth thoroughly after he stands abruptly.

you can taste yourself on him, the musky flavor making your head spin with renewed arousal and it sends a fresh wave of heat flooding through your veins. his hand slides up to palm your breast roughly, calloused thumb scraping over your sensitive nipple.

when he finally breaks away, you’re left panting and dazed, lips kiss-swollen and tingling. gojo grins wolfishly down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. “god, so fucking beautiful when i’m ’bout to ruin you,” he promises darkly, voice rough with desire. “by the time i’m done, all you’ll be able to think about is my cock splitting you open."

his hand slides down your body to grip your thigh, hoisting your leg up to wrap around his hip. the new position leaves you feeling deliciously vulnerable, your slick folds rubbing directly against the rigid length of him.

gojo’s heated gaze rakes over your flushed form, drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. he licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of your essence still coating his tongue. “fuck, you look good enough to eat,” he growls appreciatively, palming himself once again, smearing his precum all over your thigh, the biting lips to stop the moaning betraying his own desperate arousal.

with a few quick movements, gojo shucks off his shirt, revealing the lean lines of his torso. his pale skin is littered nothing but softness. he kicks off his pants next, leaving him fully naked now.

slowly, torturously, gojo sinks into your welcoming heat inch by excruciating inch. gojo grunts as your slick folds slide along his shaft, coating him in your essence. your slick walls stretch deliciously around his girth, molding to every ridge and vein. by the time he’s fully seated, you feel impossibly full, stuffed to the brim with hard, throbbing cock.

“fuuck!” he snarls, eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice. he holds himself there for a moment, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion. “p-pussy sooo-shit! good.” the feeling of your gummy walls suffocating his cock almost making gojo’s feel bad for using you as a bet, but fuckkk! you feel so good.

you let out a strangled moan as gojo hilts himself fully inside you, stretching you wider than ever before. your slick walls flutter and clench around his thickness, trying instinctively to accommodate the sudden intrusion. the sensation borders on painful but the dull ache only serves to heighten your pleasure, stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

“ah! s-so biiig,” you whimper breathlessly, fingernails raking down gojo’s back. your hips twitch restlessly, torn between the urge to pull away from the intense stretch and the primal need to take him deeper. gojo groans at the feeling of your scorching heat enveloping him so completely. his pelvis presses flush against yours, ensuring that not an inch of space remains between your bodies.

gojo once again, groans deeply as your velvety walls ripple along his length, the exquisite sensations threatening to undo his control. he wants nothing more than to rut into you mindlessly, chasing his own pleasure. but he forces himself to hold still, giving you time to adjust to his size.

“shit baby, you feel incredible,” he rasps, voice strained with barely restrained lust. “so fucking tight...” he rolls his hips experimentally, pulling out just an inch before sinking back in. the drag of his thick cock against your sensitive nerves makes you both gasp. gojo sets a slow, deep rhythm, letting you feel every inch of him as he strokes your inner walls. his hands roam your curves possessively, mapping out the dips and swells of your body.

you arch into gojo’s touch, craving more of his addictive caresses. your nails score down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. the sting only seems to spur him on, his thrusts growing harder and faster as he chases his own pleasure.

“too muuuch,” you cry, tossing your head back as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back to urge him deeper. “hurt, ah! too big.”

gojo snarls, the sound feral and hungry. he leans down to capture one pert nipple between his teeth, biting down just shy of too hard. you yelp at the sharp jolt of pain, cunt clenching rhythmically around his pistoning length.

gojo grunts as your inner walls clamp down around him like a vice, the added pressure sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. he knows he should probably slow down, give you time to adjust, but the way you’re writhing beneath him is just too enticing.

“you can take it,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust.

once again, gojo snarls against your breast, tongue flicking out to lave over the abused bud. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make it feel real good,” he promises, harmonizing his words with a particularly vicious thrust. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix, making you see stars.

your slick walls spasm wildly around his girth, fluttering and clenching as if trying to push him out even as your body betrays you, hips rolling shamelessly to meet each punishing stroke. the wet slap of flesh echoes obscenely in the room, mingling with your wanton moans and gojo’s animalistic grunts.

gojo lets out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as your slick walls ripple around his thickness. “fuck, your pussy is milking my cock so good,” he grunts, hips snapping forward almost violently. one large hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. “come on, baby. squeeze this cock just like that,” gojo urges gruffly, increasing the pressure on your clit. “gonna fill this pretty cunt up real soon.”

you throw your head back with a guttural moan, fingers tangling in gojo’s hair as he works you closer to the edge. your thighs tremble, muscles quivering with the strain of holding yourself open for his relentless assault. sweat beads along your brow, plastering strands of hair to your face.

“please,” you keen desperately, unsure what exactly you’re begging for anymore. more? less? harder? faster? all you know is that yo’'re teetering right on the precipice, balanced precariously between agony and ecstasy.

gojo grins wickedly, sensing your desperation. he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “that’s it, cum for me baby. gonna pump you so full of my seed, you’ll be dripping for days.”

but before you reach that peak, that climax you desperately need, gojo abruptly stops moving. hands trailing down your tights before throwing your body to his bed. a gasp of surprise tears from your throat, followed by a whimper— a subtle sign of protest.

gojo chuckles darkly, reveling in the delicious sight of you sprawled out before him, flushed and panting. he takes a moment to admire the view— your chest heaving, breasts bouncing with each labored breath, the glistening evidence of your arousal painting your inner thighs.

gojo smirks down at you, taking in your confused expression with a glint of mischief in his eyes. he trails a finger down your sternum, circling one dusky nipple teasingly for a second. “what’s wrong, baby?” he coos mockingly. “didn’t get your fix?”

he shifts slightly, the movement causing his half-hard cock to brush against your thigh. you shudder at the contact, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you. gojo hums approvingly at your reaction, leaning down to nip at your jaw.

“mmm, look at you,” he purrs approvingly, trailing a finger through your slick folds. “all spread out and ready for me. such a goood girl.” without warning, gojo flips you onto your stomach, hauling your hips up until you’re presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. he runs a proprietary hand over the curve of your ass, squeezing roughly. “this ass though... fuck, i could play with it all day.”

gojo’s eyes rake over your prone form appreciatively, drinking in the delectable sight of you splayed out before him. he takes his time exploring your curves, fingers tracing idle patterns across your skin. when he reaches the swell of your rear, he gives the supple flesh a firm squeeze, kneading the plush globes like dough. this might be the first and the last time he has you in his bed, might make it memorable.

“such a perfect little peach,” he praises huskily, spreading you wide to expose your most intimate parts. cool air wafts over your heated flesh, making you shiver. gojo hums in approval at the sight of your dripping cunt, flushed and swollen with need.

he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. “look how wet you are for me,” he murmurs, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. you let out a soft moan, squirming under gojo’s intense gaze. his rough hands map out every dip and curve of your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touch. you arch into his caress, silently begging for more.

when he finally reaches your aching core, you buck your hips eagerly, desperate for friction. “please,” you whimper, voice high and needy. “i need—”

gojo cuts off your pleas with a sharp smack to your rear, the stinging impact making you yelp. “ah ah, none of that now,” he tuts disapprovingly. “you don’t get to tell me what you need, understand? it’s an honor y’know, for me to take your virginity, so you don’t get to tell me what you need.”

he punctuates his words with another firm swat, watching with rapt attention as your skin blooms pink under his palm. but even so, gojo couldn’t stop the spinning from his head, the sigh of you, the feel of your cunt tightly grip his needy cock making him all desperate and losing his shit to you, a fucking nerd all out of other girl.

gojo grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your predicament. he traces a finger through your soaked folds, gathering some of your essence on his digit before bringing it to his lips. he makes a show of licking it clean, savoring your unique flavor with a satisfied hum.

“mmm, you taste divine,” he purrs, voice dripping with lust. “like the finest nectar.”

gojo lines himself up with your entrance once more, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at your slick opening. he teases you with shallow thrusts, barely breaching your entrance before pulling away again. your walls flutter around nothing, trying desperately to draw him in deeper.

“beg for it,” he demands huskily, giving your rear another firm smack. “let me hear how badly you want this cock.“ he grabs your hip, fingers bent to your flesh the way he drags you to the edge of his bed and your feet touching the cold tile.

his one arm sneaking down to your thigh, lifting it off the floor while the other hand relentlessly teases your needy cunt with the swollen tip of his cock— kissing your clit.

you writhe beneath gojo’s ministrations, a litany of needy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. “please,” you beg shamelessly, too far gone to care about dignity. “gojo-kuuunn . . i need you inside me, filling me up. i can’t take it anymore!”

your hips buck frantically, seeking friction against his maddening teasing. you’re so empty, aching to be stretched and filled by his thick length. gojo just chuckles darkly at your desperation, continuing his torturous game. his chest raining with pride and happiness for taking your virginity, him, not another man. him.

“oh? and why should i give you what you want?” he taunts, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance without pushing in. “maybe i like seeing you like this— alllll spread out and begging so pretty for me.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, teasing kiss. “you taste sweet when you’re desperate like this,” he murmurs against your mouth, tongue flicking out to lick at your lower lip. “makes me want to devour you whole.”

he pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions. “but since you asked so nicely...” with a slow, deliberate push, he sinks into your heat, groaning at the velvety tightness enveloping his cock.

gojo pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried deep within you. then, with a gentle roll of his hips, he begins to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm. he savors each drag of your slick walls along his shaft, relishing in the exquisite sensation of taking your virginity. his hand leaving another handprint on your ass, digging his dull nail into the skin.

a gasp tears from your throat as gojo finally sheathes himself fully inside you, the stretch both painful and exhilarating. you cling to the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as you acclimate to the foreign intrusion.

but as he starts to move, long, languid strokes that fill you to the brim, you begin to relax into the pleasure. a low moan escapes you, vibrations humming against gojo’s lips before your head falls to his bed. “ahh... yes... just like thaaat...”

your hips start to rock in tandem with his, meeting each thrust with eagerness. the sensations build rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. you can feel every ridge and vein of gojo’s cock as it slides against your inner walls, sending jolts of electric pleasure through you.

“more,” you breathe out, voice ragged with need, causing the man to leave your reddened ass to find your hair and take a fistful of the locks while the other arm tightens around your thigh, making a perfect symphony the way he pounds into you from behind.

gojo’s fingers dig into your scalp, tugging roughly at your hair as he pistons into you with reckless abandon. the bed creaks and shifts beneath the force of his thrusts, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your hearts.

gojo growls in approval, the sound muffled against your ear as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. his hips snap forward with renewed vigor, driving into you with a primal intensity that steals your breath away. the force of his thrusts sends the headboard thudding against the wall, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your heart.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he grits out between clenched teeth, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as he uses it to pull your head back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. “i can feel every inch of you milking my cock. this cunt feels like heaven, fuuuck.”

gojo’s words are punctuated by the lewd slap of skin against skin, the obscene sound only serving to heighten your arousal. his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp. the slight sting only serves to heighten your arousal, your body craving more of his dominance. gojo's other hand grips your thigh firmly, holding you steady as he pistons in and out of you with relentless precision.

your mind goes blank, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of gojo’s possession. every nerve ending is alight with sensation, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. you can feel yourself teetering on the brink, precariously close to the edge.

a hoarse cry spills from your lips as gojo hits that spot deep inside, the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes your vision blur and toes curl. “ahhh! oh god, right there!” you wail, hips bucking wildly to meet his punishing pace.

a sharp cry tears from your throat as gojo’s grip on your hair intensifies, the pain mixing deliciously with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. you arch your back, offering yourself up completely to his dominating touch.

“yes, oh god, just like that!” you moan, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “fuck me harder, gojo-kun!”

gojo’s eyes flash with triumph and possessiveness at your wanton cries, his grip on your hair and thigh tightening reflexively. he slams into you with renewed ferocity, the force of his thrusts rattling the bed frame and sending the headboard crashing against the wall.

“that’s it, scream for me,” he snarls, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he leans in close. “let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless.” gojo’s free hand snakes around to cup your breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers. the dual sensations of his ruthless pounding and the pleasurable tug on your sensitive bud send you spiraling closer to the edge.

as if sensing your impending climax, gojo redoubles his efforts, pistoning into you with wild abandon. your world narrows down to the searing heat of gojo’s body, the relentless thrusts of his cock, and the intoxicating scent of sex that fills the air. you’re lost in a haze of pure, unadulterated pleasure, every fiber of your being focused on chasing that elusive peak.

the pressure builds and builds, coiling tighter in your core until you think you might burst. gojo’s harsh commands and the brutal pace of his fucking only serve to heighten the tension, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

with a keening wail, you finally tumble over the edge, your orgasm slamming into you like a freight train. your inner walls clench around gojo’s throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

“fuck, fuuck! gojo-kun! ’m cumming, cumming!”

gojo lets out a guttural roar as he feels your pussy clamping down on his cock, the vice-like grip triggering his own release. with one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his seed erupting in powerful spurts as he fills you up.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chants, his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. gojo’s grip on your hair and thigh remains unrelenting, holding you in place as he marks you as his, claiming you utterly and completely.

overwhelmed by the intensity of your shared orgasms, you collapse onto the mattress the heartbeat his grasp on you loosened, your body still trembling with aftershocks. gojo’s continued pulsing inside you, coupled with the warmth of his release coating your insides, leaves you feeling utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

as your breathing slowly returns to normal, you become aware of gojo’s hands gentling their hold on you, his fingers stroking soothing patterns on your skin. a soft, contented sigh escapes your lips as you melt into his touch, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

he leans forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the bed, his chest pressed against your back. his breath is still a bit ragged, but you can feel his strong, steady presence behind you. for a few moments, all you hear is the steady, calming sound of your combined breathing, the only indication that both of you are slowly recovering from the intensity of your shared passion.

after a few moments, gojo breaks the comfortable silence, his voice low and still slightly husky. “you okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your ear.

his hands slide down your sides, gently encircling your waist, his touch tender and light. the weight of his chest against your back is reassuring, and you can still feel the heat of his body radiating through your clothes. he shifts slightly, his chin resting on your shoulder, and you can practically feel his intense gaze on you, as if he’s silently assessing how you’re feeling.

a soft smile curves your lips at gojo’s gentle inquiry, your body relaxing further under his comforting touch. “mhm, i’m good,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly to rest against the soft material of his blanket. “just... really sated right now.”

you let out a contented little sigh, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and the intimate closeness of his body pressed against yours. slowly but surely, the feeling of his softened cock slipped out of your cunt, taking all of your cum and his down to your thigh and floor.

gojo chuckles softly in response, hearing the hint of satisfaction in your tired voice. he plants a soft, feather-light kiss on your neck, his lips lingering there for a moment. “that’s good,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of pride, “i’m glad i exhausted you that much.”

he pauses for a moment, his hands gently rubbing your sides, before speaking again. “need anything? water, a towel, or just... rest?” he asks, his tone genuinely concerned.

you let out a soft sigh, the tension of the past moments slowly melting away as you murmured, “just rest.” your voice was quiet, tired, and gojo, ever attentive, hummed in agreement, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a gentle kiss.

“say no less,” he whispered with that same reassuring tone, his arms immediately wrapping around you. he shifted you both onto the bed, pulling you into his embrace and letting you rest your head on his chest. his warmth surrounded you, grounding you at the moment, his heartbeat steady beneath you.

gojo made sure to cover both of you with the blanket, tucking it around your bare body with care, his movements slow and deliberate. despite the weight of the earlier events, his presence was steady, a soft contrast to the tension you’d felt before. outside of the bet, outside of the teasing, the games, and the complexities of it all, he seemed intent on giving you comfort—giving you the space to just rest, without further complications. his fingers gently traced circles on your back, a quiet reminder that, at this moment, there was nothing but a reason you were on his bed simply because of a bet— the bet he’s going to win.

gojo held you close, his arms encircling your body snugly under the soft warmth of the blanket. he continued tracing light circles on your back, the soothing repetitive motion a silent reassurance of his presence and care.

his chest rose and fell in a steady, calming rhythm, and you could feel the faint thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. his body offered a solid, comforting presence, grounding you in the aftermath of the eventful night.

gojo remained silent for several minutes, simply holding you close, his touch gentle and nurturing. after a few moments, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

he shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that both of you were more comfortable. his arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest, a silent promise of protection and comfort.

you simply nod.

gojo feels your nod, his lips curving into a small smile against your forehead. “good,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low.

he lets out a deep, content sigh, his body relaxing further into the bed, his arms still holding you close. his breathing slows, a steady, measured rhythm that seems to lull you into a sense of peace and security. the room is enveloped in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sound being the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

gojo’s gaze softened as he looked down at your peaceful face, the soft rise and fall of your chest the only movement in the stillness of the room. he stayed like that for a while, just watching you, making sure you were fully asleep, your breathing steady and relaxed. he could feel the weight of the day, the tension from earlier, and he knew you needed this rest, even if you didn’t quite realize it yet.

once he was certain you were asleep, gojo's fingers slid beneath the pillow, pulling out his phone with careful movements. his smirk returned, a wicked gleam flashing in his eyes as he unlocked the screen and opened the camera. he took a quick snapshot, the sound of the shutter a soft click that was barely audible in the quiet room. his eyes flicked down to the picture, his smirk widening as he admired the photo of you, completely unaware, asleep in his arms.

“this is mine,” he muttered quietly to himself, the excitement of the bet reigniting within him. he knew he was going to win, and as much as he enjoyed this rare moment of calm with you, there was no denying the competitive streak that ran through him. he tucked the phone back under the pillow, settling back into the warmth of the bed, still holding you close, but his mind already racing ahead to the next step in his game.

gojo’s gaze remains fixed on you, admiring the innocent, vulnerable expression on your face as you sleep. he takes several more moments to just watch you, his gaze flickering over every detail of your face—the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the slight part of your lips as you breathe in.

he lets out a soft sigh, his fingers gently tracing your skin, his touch almost reverent. “god, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs quietly, the words slipping out involuntarily.

gojo’s eyes lingered on your peaceful, sleeping form, an unsettling mixture of admiration and satisfaction bubbling inside him. every detail of your face seemed to draw him in, each soft breath you took making his heart twist. he couldn't help but trace the curve of your cheek with his finger, as though savoring the image of you in your most vulnerable state. god, you're beautiful, he thought, the words slipping from his lips in a quiet murmur, but they were tinged with something darker.

as much as he tried to shake it off, a faint flicker of guilt gnawed at him. just a tiny sliver, a whisper in the back of his mind, reminding him of the bet, the cruel game he was playing with his friends. was this really what he wanted? to use you like this, to take advantage of your innocence, your trust, all for the sake of proving something to them? the thought scratched at his conscience, but it was fleeting, quickly drowned out by the more dominant, selfish part of him.

he couldn’t help it—he wanted to win. he wanted to show off, to prove that he was the one who’d conquered you first. the idea of rubbing it in toji, geto, and sukuna’s faces, seeing their reactions when he revealed that he was the one who’d claimed you, made his chest tighten with dark satisfaction. the guilt? it was easily buried beneath the hunger for victory.

monday couldn’t come soon enough.

sukuna leaned back, crossing his arms with a sly smirk as he glanced at gojo. “you’re so damn stupid,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “just get to the point, genius. we’re here to talk about the bet, not hear you babble on like an idiot.”

the mention of the bet caused a shift in the group. toji’s smirk sharpened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward, clearly ready to pounce on whatever gojo had to offer. geto, normally the calmest of them, looked intrigued, his gaze steady and expectant. sukuna’s own smirk widened into a mocking grin, savoring the thrill of competition, ready to lay down his own proof and claim victory over the others.

he let the tension build, basking in the eager anticipation hanging thick between them. then, without further ado, sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and casually waving it in the air. “alright, boys. one... two... three,” he counted, then turned his screen toward the group with a triumphant look. displayed was a photo of you lying next to him, fast asleep, vulnerable and unguarded. sukuna’s smirk grew wider, reveling in the victory he thought was his.

as sukuna’s countdown reached three, he confidently pulled out his phone, an air of smug triumph around him as he turned the screen to reveal the photo of you, asleep in his arms, your peaceful face nestled against him. for a brief moment, he savored the victory, certain he’d be the one to claim the title. but as he looked up, expecting awe and frustration from the others, he found something else entirely.

geto’s face, usually so calm, had twisted into a look of sheer confusion, a frown creasing his brow as he looked down at his own phone, then up at sukuna, and back to his phone again. in his hand, on his own screen, was the exact same photo—down to every last detail. his jaw clenched, and he turned the phone towards sukuna without saying a word, letting the image speak for itself.

toji, who’d been leaning back with a predatory smirk, felt his confidence waver. he, too, checked his phone, and the smirk fell, replaced by a dark scowl. “what kind of joke is this?” he growled, his fingers gripping his phone tightly, a mix of anger and disbelief in his eyes as he flashed the identical photo.

and gojo, who’d initially met sukuna’s countdown with smug amusement, suddenly felt the blood drain from his face. he looked at his own screen, the same picture staring back at him, taunting him with an illusion of victory. his lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced at each of the others, his usual cocky grin now replaced with a frustrated grimace. “so… none of us won anything, huh?” he muttered bitterly, his voice low, laced with irritation.

a tense silence settled over them, their expressions twisted with disbelief and anger. each one felt the bitter sting of having been outsmarted, the pride and triumph they’d anticipated now twisted into something sharp and uncomfortable.

sukuna clenched his jaw, the victory he’d tasted turning to ash. “this is ridiculous. how the hell—” he began, but was cut off by toji’s dry, humorless laugh.

“guess none of us were as clever as we thought,” toji muttered darkly, his voice edged with anger and annoyance.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his pride deeply wounded. “tch,” he scoffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “so we all lost? pathetic.” they sat in a tense, silent circle, each stewing in their own frustration and realizing they’d been played.

gojo let out a frustrated sigh, the realization of the situation sinking in. none of them had won, and worse, they'd all been tricked. he glanced again in your direction, a mix of irritation and confusion on his face. the realization that you, sweet and innocent as you seemed, had somehow outsmarted them all was a pill too hard to swallow.

“well, this is just great,” he muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “we’re all idiots.”

the four men turned, spotted you a few benches away, looking completely at ease, chatting with none other than nanami. his composed, polished demeanor stood out even in the crowded cafeteria, and as you held your phone up to show him something, you looked every bit like you were sharing a private joke. they saw your face light up with that familiar, radiant smile as nanami rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, his expression softening in a way they rarely saw.

then, to their surprise, nanami sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and handing you a couple of bills. your smile grew even bigger, the kind of delighted, unguarded grin they’d each hoped to earn themselves. from a distance, they couldn’t make out what you were saying, but the playful exchange and easy familiarity between you both were clear as day.

their eyes widened when nanami leaned down, just slightly, his hand resting on your shoulder as he pressed a brief but gentle kiss to your lips—completely unfazed by the cafeteria full of students. the kiss was neither rushed nor hesitant, just natural and unapologetic. as he pulled away, he sent a pointed, almost warning glance in their direction, his gaze cold and unyielding, as if daring any of them to even think about challenging him.

you turned then, catching their gawking stares and raising the cash in your hand with a sly grin that practically dripped with triumph. they could only sit in stunned silence as you waved the money at them, your expression smug and knowing. your gaze lingered on them for a second longer, a little glint of mischief in your eyes, before you turned your attention back to your phone, completely unfazed by their reactions.

the four men sat there, speechless, their jaws hanging open in shock at the scene unfolding before them. they’d expected you to be meek and naive, unaware of their little bet. instead, here you were, giggling with nanami, a man known for his aloofness and strict nature, casually taking money from him in exchange for a kiss. your confident wave and smug smile only added to the shock.

toji was the first to snap out of it, his eyes narrowing as he watched you with a mixture of anger and surprise. “what the hell was that?” he sputtered, his voice strained.

sukuna’s face contorted with pure disbelief, a rare look of complete shock crossing his usual smug features. he couldn’t believe that the girl they’d all so casually thought they were playing had flipped the entire game on them. his jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, “unbelievable… she played us.”

toji, on the other hand, looked downright irritated, his expression darkening as he watched nanami give you that casual, easy kiss. his pride stung, and he forced out a low, sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “so much for thinking she’d be easy to handle,” he growled. “guess we’re the ones who got handled.”

geto was silent, his usual calm mask slipping just enough to reveal the flicker of surprise in his eyes. he prided himself on being perceptive, but seeing you there with nanami, openly flaunting the victory they thought was theirs, left him speechless. his lips curved into a grudging smirk, though, as he muttered, “gotta hand it to her… didn’t see that coming.”

gojo felt his face flush with a mix of frustration and lingering embarrassment. he leaned back, running a hand over his face and letting out a soft, defeated chuckle. “well, this is just fantastic,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he watched you wave the money with that smug smile on your face. “we’re all idiots, and she knows it.”

the four men sat there, each lost in their own thoughts, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. they’d underestimated you, treated you like a naive little toy to be won, but you'd turned the tables on them. and the fact that you’d done it so effortlessly, with such a casual smirk on your face, only added to the collective sense of shock and irritation.

gojo, in particular, couldn’t shake off the burning sense of embarrassment. you’d made him look like a fool, and that stung. him, who was never one to be outplayed, felt a strange mix of anger and admiration at your audacity. it was both aggravating and irritating, but there was an undercurrent of grudging respect. you’d made all of them look like morons, yet there was something about your confidence, the way you casually took nanami’s money, that he couldn’t help but find intriguing.

gojo clenched his jaw, his own competitive nature burning within him. “that smug little…” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for the others to hear.

geto shot him a bemused smirk, sensing the competitive fire flaring up in his friend. “looks like you’ve met your match, genius,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “and judging by the look on your face, you’re not handling it too well.”

lost in a whirlwind of shock and confusion, they barely noticed you approaching until you were standing right at their table, an amused, knowing smile on your lips. with a graceful, almost lazy flick of your wrist, you dropped a small stack of polaroids onto the table, each one falling face-up, showing exactly what they dreaded to see.

each photo captured the same damning image: them, fast asleep, completely unaware, while you sat on their waist, looking down with a mocking pout. your lips jutted out in an exaggerated, fake crying face, as if mourning their obliviousness. their faces, peaceful in sleep, were juxtaposed with your taunting expression, turning the tables in a way none of them could have expected.

toji’s eyes went wide as he flipped through the pictures, his smirk quickly fading to a tight-lipped grimace. sukuna’s jaw clenched, a flush of irritation darkening his cheeks as he processed the fact that you’d played him, all of them, so perfectly. geto let out a disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head, unable to hide a mix of amusement and frustration at your brazen boldness.

gojo, usually quick with a snappy comeback, could only stare at the photos, stunned into silence. he glanced up at you, his gaze a mix of admiration and disbelief. you’d outwitted them, effortlessly.

you leaned in slightly, resting one hand on the edge of the table, flashing them a wicked grin. “hope you enjoyed your little nap, boys,” you teased, your tone sweet but dripping with smugness. with one final smirk, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving them speechless, the photos in hand as a constant reminder of the game they’d lost to you.

[satangcrush]

pact marks pt 2

✦ CAST: lucifer, mammon, levi ✦ SUMMARY: brothers’ reaction to you hiding your pact marks (reader has hair covering the back of their neck for lucifer) ✦ WC: 2.3k-ish

[PART 1] | [PART 2] | [PART 3] | MASTERLIST

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Lucifer

Will mention it in passing to find out more about why the pact mark is gone but will not interrogate further. Instead, it keeps him up in bed wondering why you weren’t wearing the mark with pride LOL

.

The clear sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention as you paused in your note-taking to glance up at the culprit who broke the silence in the library. The towering figure above you makes for a dashing picture although you weren’t sure why he was hanging around you when there was a perfectly good chair opposite you that he could take a seat in.

“Can I help you…?” You trailed off as you started racking your brain for any misconduct that you might have done in the past week that he was posing as an intimidating shadow above you. Either way, it was always a safe bet to apologise first.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted out, nervousness making your heart beat a little faster. This should be enough, right? This time, you can see his expression morph into one of confusion and a hint of…frustration. 

His breath escaped with a sigh, “Why is it that whenever I come to talk, you always apologise first?” The mirth in his voice obvious as he pulled out the chair beside you to take a seat.

Oh okay, he was sitting beside you. Great, maybe you did do something wrong that you simply couldn’t recall at the moment. Or maybe, Satan and Belphie tattled on you about the prank you had helped out with last week.

He cleared his throat again, folding his hands pristinely on the table. “I just wanted to check up on you. How are you doing?” You paused in your movement, ink blotting on the sheet of paper as you pondered fervently for an appropriate reply.

“What’s up with the artificial pleasantries?” You asked warily, not sure what to make of his behaviour. You leveled him with an even stare, as you tried to decipher his thoughts.

He stared at you, noting your defensive position, with your shoulders to your ears and the way you gripped your writing utensil tightly, “Are you a masochist? Do you like my scolding that much?” He stared at you with a deadpan expression, leaning forward to flick your forehead gently.

“Relax.” He demanded, uncurling your fingers to wring your pen away as he placed the cap back to its rightful position. You continued to look at him doubtfully, leaning back in your chair as you hummed a tune that you had picked up from Levi’s anime.

(You had an idea why he was seeking you out now.)

You wore an inquisitive smile, angling your head in the way you knew Lucifer liked. “I feel like you have a question for me?” You deliberately drawled out the end of your sentence, bringing your legs up to tuck it under your chin. With his piercing stare, he met your eyes, bright crimson eyes flashing as he snorted, “Do I?”

“Well if you don’t, I’ll go back to my studies then.” You proceeded to reach out for your pen in Lucifer’s grasp, smiling when a gloved hand enclosed it further away from you, holding it high above his head. 

“Fine.” He huffed, finally dropping all pretenses. “I heard that the shady sorcerer taught you something new.”

You nodded in return, not providing any further explanation. If he wanted to know any other details, he would need to learn how to put his big boy pants on and ask you with words instead. 

He continued to look pointedly at you, his feet tapping an incessant rhythm on the carpeted floor. When he realised he wasn’t going to get any other information from you, he continued, ”He taught you how to cover up the pact marks, correct?”

“Yes, he indeed taught me how to cover these up,” You motioned to the back of your neck, moving your hair out of the way so he could get a better view as you rotated in your seat. “See, it’s not there.” You said triumphantly, turning back to face him.

He had a complicated expression on his face, a dark scowl planted on his lip. “Lucifer?” You called out, a teasing remark already at the tip of your tongue but before you could let it slip, he abruptly stood up to excuse himself, saying that he had to finish some work.

You sat there, bewildered. For a second, you actually contemplated standing up to chase after him but then against your better judgement, you decided not to.

‘Well, he can work through those feelings by himself before coming back to you.’ You pondered before turning back to your notes and noticing the mess left behind. Damn it, you would need to rewrite your notes seeing as the ink had seeped through... as well as getting a new pen as Lucifer had left with it.

══════════════════

Mammon

Out of everyone, he would be the loudest at making it known that he disliked you not showing the pact.

.

“HUH?! Where did it go?!” A hand shot out and grabbed onto your wrist, making you stretch out your arms as you hurled forward in the hallway and into the chest of someone.

“Wha-” Putting your hands on his chest, you pushed back the assailant and instead met the worried expression on the Avatar of Greed’s face, “Mammon?” With a hesitant voice, you tried to tug your hand away from his scrutinising eyes.

“Arghhh… The mark! I don’t believe it! Where did the mark go?!” The panicked voice of Mammon resounded in your ears, a shrill symphony that rang throughout your head. He proceeded to grab onto your shoulder, spinning you around so many times as if an answer would apparate in thin air if he did it enough times.

You were starting to feel dizzy, the unmistakable taste of bile forcing its way up your throat. In the serene recesses of your mind, you wondered if you should just puke on Mammon and call it a day. Unfortunately, you knew that Lucifer would still make you clean up the mess and you just weren’t in the mood for it.

‘Then, there’s only one way left.’ You thought to yourself, sending a silent apology along Mammon’s way.

“Stay!” As Mammon got flung to the ground, you also ended up shooting for the ground as his arms were around you. You closed your eyes tightly to brace yourself for the impact, comforting yourself with the thought that you could just blame Mammon if you ended up with any injuries.

A yelp escaped you as you grabbed onto his shirt , as one of his hand rises up to latch on the back of your head as he tried to cushion your fall. With a poorly concealed grimace, you sat up rubbing your head with one hand while the other hand found its bearings below you… which was surprisingly soft and pillowy? 

“H-hey… Are ya’ done feeling me up?! I’m ‘bout to suffocate here! Get off!” With your face burning, you quickly stood up, dusting yourself off before you offered a hand out for Mammon to grab.

He looked at the offered hand suspiciously, eyes thinning as he stared at a particular spot on your ring finger… Oh, right. Your pact mark. Right. Darn, you had hoped that none of them noticed so that you wouldn’t need to explain yourself.

“Oh, I learned how to conceal the pact marks. See?” You raised your head, finger pointing to the column of your neck, where it once laid the mark of the Avatar of Sloth. Mammon remained silent for a second, hands furling and unfolding by his side. “Well, I don’t care that ya hid the rest of the pact marks, but you can’t hide mine! No way!”

You looked at him, amused by his spluttering. “...And why’s that?” 

“Why do ya’ even need to ask? You’re my human! You should be wearing my mark…” He grumbled under his breath, voice turning into a mutter towards the end.

“Well, I’m going to keep the pact marks hidden for now so that I get used to it. Also, I feel like I get too much attention when the pact marks are out on display.” You complained, mouth warping into a sulk as you remembered how the lesser demons almost broke their neck while trying to get a glimpse at your pact marks. Your eyebrows furrowed as you crossed your legs to sit down when it seemed that Mammon wasn’t going to get his butt off the floor.

“But-”

“No buts. This is my decision, Mammon.” You shushed him gently, pushing him down to lay on his back as you hovered over him, blocking the lights from the hallway out from his eyes. Once satisfied that he wasn’t going to argue, you laid down beside him as he instinctively spread out his arm to let you lay on it.

“Now shut up and just lay down with me for a minute.”

══════════════════

Levi

First, he will start with his yucky otaku tantrum. He will just cautiously mention it once while you guys are gaming and then when you give an answer, he will go like, “ofc u don't want the mark of a yucky gross otaku” even though you are indulging in the same interest as him rn… like okay guess we are both yucky otakus tgt! 

.

You know the word had gotten out that you had learnt to conceal your pact marks so you were pleasantly surprised that Levi hadn’t actually questioned you about it yet. It could be because of the fact that his pact mark was usually hidden so it’s not as obvious as the other demon brothers or honestly, you knew it was because he was too shy.

Thus, you had decided to wear a comfy pair of shorts today for your gaming session with Levi, the fabric shorter than what you would choose to opt for on a normal day of relaxation. You shrugged as you headed to the kitchen, maybe you were a sadist but you really wanted to see Levi’s reaction.

“Levi, I’m here,” You announced your presence while kicking the door open to his room, carrying snacks that you had gotten earlier. The back of Levi’s tousled head greeted you and you observed that he had already set down your usual blanket in your spot, though he seemed to be currently engrossed in his game.

An evil idea brewed in your head and immediately, you dropped the snacks you were carrying and snuck behind Levi to cover his eyes with your hands, “Guess who?” You leaned closer, nudging his headphones out of the way so you could blow hot air in his ear. 

Levi sprung back with a loud shriek, hands flying up to grab at yours, which you reluctantly set down at his insistence. “Surprise?” You chuckled smugly and knelt down beside him to grab your own pair of headphones lying on the blanket. After wearing them, you sat back down not noticing the lack of silence from Levi as you continued chattering. 

Having been struck speechless from your audacity, Levi was now too distracted by the flash of skin visible from your shorts riding up. He startled, noticing the smooth skin where his mark used to occupy, and felt the familiar glimmer of envy brewing in the pit of his stomach, clawing its way up and making itself home in the heart of his throat. He finally snapped out of his head when you paused in your speech, clearly waiting for an answer from him.

As you entertained yourself while setting up the multiplayer game that Levi had set out, you couldn’t help but notice the furrow in his eyebrows and his clenched fist around his controller. You shifted your weight from side to side, watching as his gaze followed the movement of your shorts.

Bingo.

“Do you like my shorts that much?” Your lips widened into a cheshire-like grin.

Levi almost puked out blood. Beads of sweat started making themselves apparent on his forehead as he scrambled for a defense; having mixed feelings at your accusation of him sounding like a pervert. 

Was it really an wrongful accusation when he liked seeing your skin, just not without his mark on it?

“No, I mean yes! I was just staring because the mark is gone--" Ah… he definitely had just messed up. He just had to go and say it. He just had to go and say what he was thinking in his head. Levi slowly turned his attention, dragging his eyes up from your unblemished skin only to meet a broad smirk plastered on your face. The smile was so big and aggravating that he wanted to take his controller and throw it at your head.

“Why didn’t you continue?” The impish smirk on your face made Levi want to punt you into the next century so that he could peacefully crawl into a hole and die, “I wanted to hear you confess that you couldn’t keep your eyes away from my thigh too, Levi-chan.”

He thinks that he could probably die of embarrassment now. First, he professed that he liked your shorts, and now you probably think that he was some weirdo, wanting to see his mark on you, like some kind of branding cattle.

The sound of your laughter rang in his ears as he covered his face with his arms, dropping his controller to the ground. “Urgh, I hate you.” He said melodramatically, shoulders slumped even as you tried to tug his hands away from his face.

“Aw, baby. Don’t be sad, I won’t conceal the mark during our gaming session ‘kay?” You cooed, tone infuriatingly playful. Successful in your attempt to push his hands down, you peppered the Avatar of Envy with kisses and dragged him over so that you could properly embrace him. 

Levi knew he was still red-faced so he buried his face into the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your waist as you continued coddling him. “Don’t tease me like that again,” He muttered despondently, a frown staying on his face. A small laugh escaped as you replied with a half-hearted affirmation while ruffling his hair.

Honestly, he already knew that you wouldn’t hold up your end of your bargain but how could he possibly be angry when all of your attention is focused on him?

…Huh. Maybe he was a masochist, after all.

══════════════════

a/n▸ here are my hcs on the placement of the pact marks:Luci - back of neck leading to your spine, because he wants u to THINK.Mammon - around ring finger on ur dominant hand bc u always use that hand to payLevi - around right thigh because his tail always curls there and it just feels special to himalso, im positive theres no mention of pact mark in the OG story so im very curious as to how this idea became so prevalent in the community

[luimagines]

Omg requests are open!!! Remember to take care of yourself! And 3 requests per person you are so generous!

Anyways how about.... The chain with a stressed out college modern student lmao (maybe they're studying to become a veterinarian, because that's what I'm going to college for this year lol👀)

Remember to take care of yourself and take your time💕💕💞

Oh goodness, this took forever to get to. Um... So how'd your school year go?! Did you start the second year already?

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

"GGAAHHH!!!" You yell into your hands, rubbing them over your face and into your hair, trying to not pull it right out of your scalp.

"....I guess they're dead." Wild shrugs unhelpfully, walking calmly past you.

Sky picks up your fallen book, giving you an amused, if concerned look. "Problem?"

"It's too much stuff." You groan, taking the book back. "You know, when I chose to be a vet tech I didn't think it would consist of overloading my brain until it felt like it was leaking out of my ears."

"What's a vet tech?" Wind hops to your side, peering over your arm to get a better look at your book. He has no idea what it says but there's a cute picture of a dog on the front. The book is also very shiny and colorful. He has no idea what it's about.

"A doctor." You say, deciding to put your text book in your bag. "But for animals."

"Think you can take a look at Epona at some point then?" Twilight asks from somewhere to your left. you can't even look at him, your head hurts.

"I guess?" You rub your temples. "I'm still learning and there's only so much my textbook has on horses. But I can try. I'd need some experience anyway."

Hyrule stops and calmly activates the healing spell on his hands. Your head ache goes away at once.

You turn to him gratefully. "Traveler, I'd kill to have that ability of yours."

He smirks. "It's rather convenient, but I thought doctors were healers. No killing for you."

You stick your tongue out at him. He remains unapologetic.

Time puts a hand on your shoulder. "If you need more experience with horses, you're always free to take a look at our horses at Lon Lon."

"For free?" You deadpan.

He meets you head on. "We only pay the professionals, not the trainees."

You pout harder. "I hate that. I get it. But I hate it."

He chuckles.

Four rolls his shoulders and checks your hip simply because he can. "So what's that book about? Animals?"

"It's my text book." You say, patting your bag where it sits safely tucked away. "It has all the information I would need for my classes and then some." You rub your eyes again. "I swear I'm going t have this entire book memorized before I get home. I had a test on Tuesday for crying out loud."

"It's admirable that you're still studying though." Four smirks at you.

"Studying, the only words that very blatantly describes the acts of students dying." You grumble.

Warrior laughs out loud an smacks your back, nearly sending you careening into the gravel trail face first. "I remember those days. I couldn't wait to get away from the desk and on to the field!"

"Yeah?" You say, relaxing a little more at the common experience. "What for?"

"Knight training of course." He shrugs. "Had to learn the laws like the back of our hands. Fighting came after."

"I remember that." Sky stretches his arms over his head. "Hated it."

"No time like the present." Legend shrugs. "You're on the field now whether you like it or not. Nothing like learning on the job."

Somehow, you don't feel like that bodes well for you. "Remember, I'm studying animals, not people."

"We're not all that different though." He pops his back. Legend looks at you with an unreadable gleam in his eye. "You might want to give a check up to Wolfie too, while you're at it."

You smile. "Dogs I can do. Horses will have to wait a little more."

Twilight throws something at Legend head, but you don't know why.

[badkitty3000]

Weak

Even Five Hargreeves is no stranger to temptation. He tries so hard to stay away. He wants to do the right thing for once in his life. If not for himself, then for her. But every man has his breaking point.

Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut

This one shot is an accompaniment to my other work "Addicted". This can be read on its own, but is a different side of the story, as told from Five's point of view.

My Master List Of Number Five Fanfiction

Weak:

I never meant to take it this far. I never meant to be cruel. That’s not who I am, or at least I didn’t think I was. I also thought I was strong and had will power. But I guess I was wrong about that, too. Because as much as I try to stay away, I don’t.

I know who I am and what I’m made of. The terrible things I’ve done. That’s not a secret and I’ve never lied to myself about that. My morals can’t even be called a gray area anymore; they’re more like an indistinct blur. But in this one tiny part of my soul, I was trying to be better. For her, at least.

I have failed miserably.

She knows what I am. When things got too comfortable and too familiar, I told her as a way to push her away and to scare her. It didn’t work, though. In fact, it had the opposite effect. She fucking loved it…and I didn’t know how to say no to that.

How could I say no when she was tearing at my clothes, practically panting with desire, and shoving her hand down my pants? All over a bloody stain on a shirt collar and the feel of my Glock against her skin. I’m sure there’s a way to resist that, but fuck if I know what it is. I’m not smart enough or strong enough to figure that one out.

I don’t particularly like all of the killing. But I’m pretty fucking good at it and someone has to do it, I suppose. I certainly never considered it sexy in any way. Then, after that first time, when she begged me to tell her all of the gruesome details, and I watched her skin start to flush and her pupils dilate…well, fuck, that put a new spin on everything.

I still don’t like it, that part hasn’t changed. I get no pleasure from pulling that trigger and watching their skull break open like a fucking pinata, spraying the contents of their brains all over the floor like the world’s worst party game. Now, however, there is a sick little spark that will ignite in me after it’s done. Because I know how it will turn her on.

And, fuck, I am weak.

That’s what this all boils down to. Weakness. For most people that meet me or know me in any way, weak is probably the last word they would use to describe me. Cold; bitter; sarcastic; asshole. Those adjectives are much more likely to be used. But weak? Doubtful.

I know the truth, though. Deep down, that is what I am. Because when you continue to break someone’s heart time and time again, just because you can’t control your own basic urges…that’s weakness. Pure and simple.

She has told me how much I’ve hurt her, and how much I am ruining her life. She has screamed and cried and told me all of the things I know I deserve to hear. She has called me an asshole more times than I can remember, and I have never disputed it. So, I stay away, like I know I should. Until she inevitably calls again. And I slip right back into it without another thought. Like the absolute fucking bastard that I am.

Weak.

Because even though I know it’s wrong and I’m slowly poisoning her with my selfishness, each time I think maybe it will be different. Maybe this time will be the time when I stay. When I will finally be the person I should be and really want to be.

All the way up until the early morning, I will convince myself that this is it. I’ve finally seen the light and I can be the man she deserves; it will be so easy. Because when it’s just the two of us, in our own little cocoon, hidden away from the outside world, the idea is magical. I would give anything to stay there, tucked away, fucking like animals until we’re both too exhausted to talk anymore. I want to stay there and listen to her voice, and her laugh, and feel her hands on my touch-starved body. And I think, yes, this is it. This is what I want.

Then morning comes and the spell is broken.

Once that first peek of dawn starts to light up the sky, all of my anxieties come rushing back, and I remember why I can’t stay. Morning brings back the real world, and with it all of its problems.

I will freeze up, practically paralyzed with fear, as she sleeps next to me, an arm draped over my chest. I will remember what kind of person I really am, and how that just doesn’t translate to boyfriend material. And it’s not just the little fact that I am a hired assassin, although that does put a slight snag in any future meetings with parents and the like.

It’s the mixing bowl of fucked up thoughts and feelings and history that lives inside my brain. Guilt. Regret. Sadness. Rage. Take your pick, none of them are great. And I can mask them for a night or two, while I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. But they will come back again, and that’s just not something anyone needs. Especially someone you care about.

So, I do the worst, shittiest thing in the world, and leave while she’s asleep. No kiss goodbye. No note. Not even a quick morning fuck. I grab my shit and leave in a flash of blue light, like the weak coward I am. Can’t even bother to use the god damn door.

I will stay away after that. At least for a while. I will ignore the incoming texts and voice mails that sometimes will follow, and sometimes don’t. I’ll pretend I don’t care about the lectures and pleas and rightly-deserved insults. But I do care. And that’s why I won’t answer.

A month might go past, maybe more. Just enough time for me to start thinking she really is done with me. Then the call will come through, late at night, and I won’t ignore it. Because, as we’ve determined…I am weak.

She is the only one, although I’ve never told her that and I bet she thinks she’s not. I’m not interested in anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. And when she stops calling for good, which one day I know will happen, that will be it. It’s either her or nobody. And it’s barely even her.

Our paths almost never cross outside of our little midnight meetings. After that first night when all of this started, I’ve never seen her anywhere else besides her apartment. I assume it’s because the types of bars and clubs I frequent are not anywhere a normal, sane person would want to spend their free evenings. But tonight, as fate would have it, I do see her. After I grab my drink off the cracked and peeling bar top and turn to look at the room behind me, I see her. And she’s not alone.

With my glass half way to my mouth, our eyes meet, and for a second neither of us move. It’s not a big place, so we aren’t that far away from one another. But it’s loud and crowded, and the guy is leaning in close to her ear, talking loudly to be heard over the constant bass thumping through the shitty speakers on the walls. Who the fuck is this guy?

It’s not fair, I know that. Believe me, I know that. And I try to give myself a stern talking-to inside my head. She is not yours. Not even remotely. You are an asshole and she deserves better. Leave her the fuck alone.

I take a drink. And then I see his hand disappear under the table, and I can see everything from where I’m standing. He’s squeezing her thigh, leaving his hand there to rest on her leg, rubbing his thumb across the bare skin that isn’t covered by her short skirt. A skirt I know I’ve had my face under before.

Fuck. I hate this guy.

In the thirty seconds that it takes for all of this to happen, she is watching me. Reading me. A faint smile plays on her lips and I know I’m caught. My thoughts must be written all over my face like a fucking billboard, and it’s too late to pretend I haven’t seen or that I don’t care. She’s got me.

If I were stronger, or a better person, I would leave. Pay my tab, collect my coat, and get the fuck out of there without another glance in her direction. Leave her be. Let her live her fucking life. But I am not. And I’m pissed.

My first instinct is to reach behind me, grab the Glock that’s hidden in the waistband of my pants and covered up by my suit jacket, and take care of this asshole right then and there. That would probably be the nicer thing to do, honestly. Then she’d finally see what a fucking psycho I am and that would end things once and for all. But I’m also not that stupid. Or that nice.

Instead, I stay and watch. I let her see me watching, too. I lean with my back against the bar, casually sipping my drink, and my eyes never leave her. I want her to know, even if it makes me more of a giant dick than I already am. I want her to know I am not pleased.

I have no idea who this guy is, and I don’t care. Maybe it’s their first date; maybe it’s their tenth. It doesn’t matter, I want him dead. And now that she knows that, because it’s pretty fucking obvious by the way I’m coiled like a cobra ready to strike right now, it’s quickly become a game. If she had feelings for him before, that seems to have been forgotten now. Because everything she is doing is for me.

Her eyes leave mine and she returns to what I can only imagine is a very dull conversation with the Neanderthal sitting next to her. She smiles and laughs, and moves her leg closer to his so that they are touching. She reaches up and fixes his hair, tucking a stray piece of it over his ear. She rests her chin on her hand and stares at him like he’s the most interesting person she’s ever encountered. And he’s eating this shit up; kicking his game up a notch with even more inane talk and rubbing her thigh up and down with his whole hand. He thinks she’s into him. Fucking dumbass.

That’s the only thing keeping me slightly calm at the moment. Knowing it’s all a play. She is a really good actress, I’ll give her that, but I’ve paid more attention to her than she realizes. I know her tells. I know the difference between her fake laugh and her real one. I can tell when she’s actively engaged in the conversation or she is just waiting for you to shut up. I know how she touches her face when she’s nervous and I know what she looks like when she wants to fuck you.

And, buddy…I got bad news for you.

The corner of my mouth lifts in an arrogant smirk as I take another drink. I shouldn’t be proud of this; I should be appalled. How dare I think I have any right to any of her little traits and quirks? I haven’t earned that. That kind of thing is reserved for boyfriends and husbands and people that can stand to stick around for more than a few hours.

When she runs her tongue over her lips in an obvious gesture meant only for me, I actually laugh out loud. Fuck, she knows what she’s doing. And it’s one hundred percent working.

As I order my second drink, feeling the calming buzz of the booze fill my brain, I start to care less and less. I don’t care if this is not fair. I don’t care that I’m being a complete and utter shit head. I don’t care if I’m weak. I’ll deal with all of that later.

I take out my phone and type out a quick text.

Enjoying yourself?

I watch as she glances to her phone on the table as it lights up. She picks it up, angling it away from Caveman Cliff, and reads it. It’s subtle, but I saw it. A brief twitch of her mouth and a quick flit of her eyes in my direction. I see her type out a quick reply and then she is back to him, completely enrapt in his droning.

Immensely, thank you

Not able to resist, I counter with:

Even I can tell from way over here that your panties are as dry as the desert

She holds in a smile as she responds back.

Too bad you’re not going to find out

Honey, if that pussy of yours is even slightly wet, it’s only because you’re thinking of me bending you over that table you’re sitting at right now

I see her legs shift and she crosses one over the other, squeezing them together as a faint blush covers her cheeks.

And why would I be thinking that?

Because that dipshit you’re with isn’t going to give you what I know you want

I watch as she swallows and then glances at the idiot to her left that is oblivious to all of this, the poor bastard. Her response is short.

Fuck you

She puts her phone away to end this exchange, but I see the small smile she is trying to hide and the way she touches her hand to her face. I can see her chest expand as she sucks in a deep breath, biting at the inside of her cheek.

I give a short snort of satisfaction and put my phone back in my inside jacket pocket. I got what I wanted. I throw back the rest of my drink, leave a few dollars for a tip, and head for the door without another look in her direction. But I know she saw me leave.

As I wait there in the dark, I think about how awful I’m being; what a shit bag move this is. I’m using her, that’s what it boils down to. Using her for her warmth and her openness, and to temporarily calm my mind. Also, for her body and her touch. She sees something in me that isn’t there; or at least something I can’t see. But I can’t or won’t give her what she needs, and I’m also not letting her move on.

Fuck, I’m an asshole.

I hear their voices coming down the hall, the rattle of keys in her hand. As they near the door, I can hear her made up excuses. She’s tired; she had too much to drink; she has a headache. Maybe next time. She’ll call him tomorrow. Then she slips inside her darkened apartment and the door closes behind her.

I’m on her before she has a chance to turn the light on, pressing her against the door as she drops her keys on the floor. Since I’ve been waiting, the anticipation has already made me fully hard and I push my groin into her while I circle my hand lightly around her neck.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No love connection tonight?” I growl next to her ear.

She never even screams or fights back. She knew I would be there. But her hands grab my forearm and I hear her suck in a loud breath.

“I never knew you were the jealous type,” she smarts back.

 “Only when I see someone try to take what’s mine,” I hiss hotly against her neck, drawing my lips and then my tongue across her skin.

“I’m not your fucking property,” she snarls, but I can hear the break in her voice and she swallows hard against my hand.

I laugh cynically. “Well, then I can go and you can let him fuck you instead. Is that what you want?”

There’s a long pause and it’s just our loud breathing in the dark of the room. Then I feel her head move slowly from side to side.

“No,” she whispers.

As I crash my mouth onto hers, my hands in her hair and on her face, and down to her tits, she is reaching for the front of my pants. I had already removed my jacket and belt when I got there, as well as the pistol that I always carry with me. Our little act back at the bar was already enough foreplay and our bodies are screaming for each other.

Our hands can’t work fast enough as she is shoving my pants down my legs and tearing my shirt open while I rip her top off and yank her skirt up. My fingers are already pushing her panties to the side and entering her, sliding right in with no resistance.

I smile proudly against her neck. “I knew you were wet for me.”

As she moans and throws her head back, she is reaching down to stroke my cock, her warm hand tight and firm as she drags it slowly over my shaft.

My hips are already jerking into her and I want to be inside of her so badly I can’t think straight.

“Get these panties off so I can fuck you,” I snarl.

I pull my fingers out, pushing her underwear down roughly and she quickly steps out of them. With one pull of her hips into me, her arms clutching tightly to my shoulders, I lift her up and start fucking her against the door.

I tip my head back and groan loudly as she whines and pulls her legs tighter around my waist.

“Can he make you feel this good?” I ask between clenched teeth as I ram into her harder and the door rattles in its frame.

“No!” she cries out.

“Do you think about him when you’re alone and fingering yourself?”

Her moans are punctuated by the slamming of my body against hers and her fingers press deeper into my skin.

“No,” she breathes out. “No.”

“You think about me, don’t you?” I say with a sneer. When she doesn’t answer fast enough, I ask again, louder. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpers pitifully, her nails digging sharply into my shoulder blades.

I can’t believe what I’m saying and what I’m doing. But she’s loving it and so I continue.

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget all about him, and then I’m going to fuck you some more. And if I ever see you with him again, I will kill him.”

“You wanted to kill him, didn’t you?” she asks, and that knowing smile starts to form as she closes her eyes and bites her lip. “When you saw him with me?”

“Fuck yes I did,” I groan loudly into her neck.

She’s almost there, I can tell. So am I, but I’m going to make her finish first. I pick up the pace, thrusting into her as hard as I can, her back and head slamming against the door, my fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her thighs and ass. I’m practically ripping into the side of her neck, latching on with my mouth and teeth, desperate to mark her as my own.

I listen as she repeats my name over and over in gasps and moans and I can’t hold back anymore.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You are all mine.”

She is falling apart in my arms, violently shaking against me as I penetrate her one last time, letting out a loud, guttural moan. I’m as deep inside of her as I can be, and I fill her up with so much cum, I know it will start sliding out; dripping down her legs and onto the floor. Somewhere deep inside, in the primordial part of my brain, I take satisfaction in knowing that it’s my seed, and only mine, that is coating her insides.

Once the last spasm has left my body, I let her down and she falls back against the door, breathing hard. Her bra is still on, but the straps have fallen down, and her skirt is bunched up around her waist. I look at the painful looking purple bruise I left on her neck, which is large enough and obvious enough that she won’t be able to cover it. Her eye makeup is smeared and her lips are swollen and red. She looks completely ravished. And then she starts to cry.

It’s because of me, I know it is. Because of the things I said and the things I did, and the way I needed her so desperately. She had been trying to break away from me and I reeled her back in. And I did it knowingly and deliberately, just to feed my ego and maybe not feel so alone. I could have found anyone for that. But, like the prick I am, I only wanted her.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my lungs still working hard to get air in and out.

She just nods silently, wiping her face with her hand, and pulls down her skirt. She picks her shirt and underwear off the floor and heads to the bathroom without a word. I’m left standing there with a softening dick and my pants around my ankles.

Fuck.

I could leave now, while she’s in there, and maybe I should. That feels wrong, though. But then again, so does staying. I feel like shit and I’m so full of shame that I want to punch my fist through the wall. Instead, I zip my pants back up and walk over to her couch to wait. I turn on the table lamp and even though it’s dim, it feels blaringly bright and I have to squint my eyes.

When she comes out, she has changed into some soft shorts and a t-shirt. Her face is cleaned up and I assume her thighs and the area between them are too. She is no longer crying, but I can still see the tell-tale signs of red-rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. I’m surprised when she comes and sits down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, because I can’t think of anything better to say.

“I know. Me too,” she says and she leans her body against mine.

She has nothing to be sorry for and I’m not sure what to do, so I put my arm around her and hug her to me. I kiss her forehead and she closes her eyes. I don’t know why she’s letting me do this, but it feels good and I like it. Just like every other time, I tell myself that maybe this time will be different. I can do this; I can be that person. I don’t want to be that other jealous, callous, hurtful person. I don’t want to be the asshole.

“Just don’t go yet, ok?” she says quietly with her cheek resting against my chest.

I smooth her hair and run my hand down her back. I don’t want to go. She feels good and warm and soft against my tension-filled body. She feels right. I want to tell her all of that, too. I want to say I’m sorry a million times over and beg for her forgiveness. I want to wake up with her next to me every day.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I murmur into her hair as I brush my chin across the top of her head.

“Don’t do that,” she pleads, her voice soft. “Please.”

I decide I’m going to tell her how I really feel. Before the night is over, I’ll come clean. And then I’ll stay. If she’ll still have me.

“You are, though. I mean it.”

She doesn’t respond, but sighs and nestles in, holding me around my waist. Fuck, I have craved this. More than the dirty talk and the biting and the ferocious fucking. I want this. I want her. And I’m going to tell her.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. It’s there, on the tip of my tongue the whole time. All I have to do is say it. But I don’t.

We fuck again, rough and hard, on the couch and on the floor. I leave more marks on her chest, branding her as my own. I tell her she’s mine, and I make her scream my name again, but I don’t say what I really mean.

We fuck in her bed, while we’re both tired and slightly drunk. I pump lazily into her while she lies underneath me and moans softly. I kiss her lips and tell her how gorgeous she is, and it’s not a lie because she is. I worship her body, running my tongue over every part of it, tasting her skin and her delicious arousal. I can taste my own cum as I lick into her soft folds and inside her pussy that’s been stretched and abused by my cock several times over.

There are so many opportunities and I don’t take any of them. I let her fold her body into mine as I hold her in the dark and I can say it right now. It would be easy and it would be the truth.

I want to be with you.

I want to be yours.

I want you to be mine and mine alone.

I want to stay.

But I am weak, and so I don’t.

She sleeps against me and I listen to her rhythmic breathing while I lie there wide awake. I think about all of the things I should have said. Everything I should have done and should not have done. I hate myself for all of it.

When the sun creeps in, and the faintest light is leaking through the curtains and cutting through the safety of the darkness, it all comes crashing back. I remember why I can’t stay and why those words just wouldn’t come out. The reality of the real world is glaringly obvious in the light of day and I remember all of it.

The real world is filled with everyday things like jobs and homes and bills to pay. Coworkers and families that want to meet you. Graduation and birthday parties. Movie and dinner dates, holidays and vacations. Marriage. Children. Normalcy.

There’s just no way any of that would work. I can’t fit into that life, even though I want to. I think of all of the things holding me back and they keep piling up until they are crushing me and I feel like I can’t breathe.

I am an assassin. A killer. A murderer. I have seen the end of the world and survived the most horrific things. I have PTSD and crippling anxiety. There are nightmares and paranoia and episodes of manic rage. I am old and I am tired. There is nothing left of me and nothing left to give. I am not meant for normalcy.

As I slowly remove her arm from across my chest, she stirs but she doesn’t wake. I take a moment to look at her. Her mind isn’t betraying her with vivid dreams of the world collapsing around her in a fiery blaze or sprays of bullets piercing her body. She is at peace and I am envious of that.

I am not good for her, I know that. I need to go and stay gone. She deserves stability and happiness and a million other things I cannot give her. So, I will be the asshole that leaves in the morning before she wakes, just like I always do. She will hate me and curse me and cry for me. And I will stay away this time. I have to.

I chance it by leaning in and brushing my lips across her forehead. Her face wrinkles up and then relaxes again, but she doesn’t wake. I slip out of the bed and out of the room, following the trail of discarded clothes and put them back on one by one. Then I am gone in the same flash of light that allowed me to enter there in the first place. A convenient exit that I have misused way too many times.

Outside, the sun is bright and the world is waking up. I can feel my resolve growing stronger as the new day builds. That was it, I am done. It was awful and I shouldn’t have done it, but it’s over now and I will not be repeating it. I am a pillar of inner strength. That was the last time and she is finally free of me. I am doing the right thing.

My strength is impressive, both inside and out. But it is not impenetrable, especially when darkness falls and the world around me grows quiet. When I am alone with nothing but my thoughts, and I just need to feel something good again.

Everyone has a weakness.   

[carefreecoffee]

+*:ꔫ:*﹤Puppy Love: Shigaraki x reader﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

Word count: 1.1k, female reader

You walk into the league's hideout some-what stealthily, creeping around each corner so as to not disturb the others that may be around. Your arms were tucked behind your back securely as your efforts to sprint towards your room were reprimanded. 

Shigaraki spots you haphazardly sneaking around, the hideout being mostly completely dark.

"What do you have there?"

His voice pierced the quiet atmosphere as he walked up to you, peering over your shoulder with a scowl. You yelp and quickly face him to hide the animal. “Uh… nothing!” You attempt to swerve him in any way to conceal your secret but alas he blocks you on every front. 

Shigaraki firmly grabs your arm with two fingers lifted, stopping you from moving any further as he looks down at you. "It sure doesn't look like nothing, let me see." Knowing you were pretty much backed into a  corner at this point, you pout in defeat, lifting the soft creature within your grasp, the pup looking as content as ever. He looked at the puppy then back at you, sighing and crossing his arms. "Where did you find that thing? We don't need some pet running around here." 

You clutch the pup as it licks the underside of your jaw rapidly, “It followed me here! I couldn't just leave it out there! Too cold for the poor thing…” You look down at the puppy and boop its nose.

"So you just decided to bring it here? Do you have any idea how annoying this thing will be, running around the halls, barking, and making a mess? We don't have time to play around with a pet."

His gravely but stern voice was no match to your persistence, you knew you could win him over somehow. 

“Please Shiggy, I'll make sure he stays in my room! Or only let him out while you're gone!” Shigaraki sighed again, looking down at the puppy then back up to you. For some unknown reason he couldn't tell you no.

"Fine, fine. You can keep the damn dog."

You fist pump the air and thanked him profusely. “Thank you, Shigaraki! I owe you one!” You turn your attention back to the little ball of energy. He rolled his eyes, trying to act like the puppy wasn't going to be a pain in the ass. However, your face had drawn him in in a way he couldn't quite understand. He wasn't one to give up so easily but you… you flipped something in him the moment your face lit up.

 "Yeah, Yeah." A beat of silence lingers before you speak up, “What should I name him?” Shigaraki crossed his arms again and tilted his head as he looked at the puppy. Not knowing where the hell you even found it in the first place

"I don't know. How about.. 'Bite' seems like a good name for a dog." He smirked slightly. You roll your eyes, “Of course you would name it that. So harsh, plus look at how innocent he looks! 'Bite' doesn't fit him.” Shigaraki huffed, but you did have a point. The puppy was more cute than it was vicious, even with those sharp puppy teeth. 

"Fine, fine. What do you think we should name it then?" You take a moment to look at the little guy, thinking before perking up. “Oooo what about Tofu? Do you think that's too unusual?” He raised an eyebrow and his smirk from earlier returned.

"Tofu? Seriously? We're naming it after food?"

You protest almost immediately with a groan, I don't know! I think I'm just hungry. Any better ideas?” He thought for a moment, racking his brain for any name other than 'Bite' before a light bulb finally went off in his head. 

"Oh, how about 'Lucky'? Since it was lucky that you found the damn thing when you did. It probably would have froze to death otherwise." You look between him and the dog, a smile etching onto your face. “Awww perfect!”

You look back at the pup, “You're lucky hm? Yes, yes you are!”

He chuckled as he watched you coo at the dog. He'd never seen you with such a happy expression before, and for some reason that expression was starting to grow on him. 'Damn she's cute.' His thoughts break as you speak. “Would you like to pet him, Shigi?” You lean the puppy up towards him as an offer. His eyes widened slightly, he didn't expect you to ask him that. Though he figured he'd humor you this one time.

 "Uh, sure..." He cautiously and hesitantly reached his hand forward to run two fingers along the top of the puppy's head. “See? He's friendly. No 'Bite'” You jest as the dog pants happily between the two of you, leaning in for more attention. He rolled his eyes again, his hand still petting the dog's head. He hated to admit it, but the dog actually did seem friendly enough. 

"Yeah, yeah...I guess you're right for once. But if he ends up being a pain in the ass I'm gonna kick it outta here." You salute him and nod. “Sir yes sir! I'm actually glad you allowed me to keep him cuz I may have already gotten all the supplies for 'em on my way back..” You rub your neck sheepishly as you show him the bag on the floor next to you.

He raised an eyebrow once again, watching you with an expression of disbelief. "You really were planning on keeping that thing no matter what. Weren't you?" You nod rather proudly, taking in his annoyed expression.

“Yes, yes I was. I'm very persistent on what I want and all I want is to retreat and cuddle with this little angel!” You poke the puppy gleefully and pick up the bag of goodies making your way to your room. 

He had to admit, you were a very determined individual. And very cute when you wanted something. But he'd never admit that out loud. "Yeah, yeah...go play with the mutt. Just keep it quiet in there. I can still hear it in my room." With the click of your door he huffs, running his thin fingers through his messy hair and walking back to his own room. 

The only thoughts swirling through his head being how cute you were when you smiled and played with the dog, and the fact that now he would have to listen to the puppy barking at all hours of the day and night from your room. He laid there for a few minutes in the dark, until he heard you let out an 'awwww' from your room, followed by the sounds of you playing with the puppy.

'Damn dog...why can't she just give me that sort of attention.' He thought. And for the first time in a long time, he realized he was jealous of a damn puppy.

[tmwcs]

Hsjaksis this idea has been in my brain for so long but imagine demon heeseung who watches little church girl y/n ever since she turned of age, he's smitten,he wants her but also knows that her purity is too strong and he can only touch her body if she gives him permission,so he has to use deception. Pretend to be someone else to earn ur trust, making u suck on his fingers by telling u that it will earn u god's grace. Overall heavy on corruption if u catch my drift. He will slowly prepare you for himself cuz u r oh so sweet and innocent completely unaware of the pleasures of the human body

”A Test of Will.”

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, corruption, deception, demonic HS x Y/N. Stealing y/n's virginity, possessiveness, secret admiring, cursing, I think that's it.

I apologize it took me so long to post. I got super jet-lagged after our flight back home the other day. But without further ado, here is (sorry it's not proofread) the one shot, "A Test of Will." REQUESTED.

Begin Read:

For as long as you can remember, you loved and praised God, taught to submit into his will whenever he desired or called upon you. As a young girl, you wanted nothing more than to become a bride of Jesus and yearned to remain everlasting and pure. It was a life you loved and respected, being the daughter of a pastor and the wife of a devoted homemaker. From the moment you understood speech, and emotional love, it had always been ingrained in your head to please him and only him.

So, you did.

The first moment you realized the importance of your obedience to the Holy spirit was after you turned seven and your family coordinated your Baptism at the local church, one your family had been attending for years. Donning all white, looking as angelic as the Renaissance paintings, you gained holiness and rebirth as God's child, watching as everyone gathered around and sang praises and cheers. It was a joyous event that displayed your conformance to the standards of God's holy will. Among the chanting choir, one particular guest lurked from above, watching with intrigue. Despite being uninvited, he remained to observe the Holy ritual while being unheard and unseen.

He hovered high above, over the large grand fountain, and watched as the priest gently dipped your frail body in the water, allowing you to rise and take your first breath. Seeing how you smiled delicately, accepting your dedication to fulfilling God's will, creates a smirk in defiance to form gracefully on his dark lips. Now, this ritualistic occurrence was not unique to him, but he could care less, for the event wasn't the reason for his stay. It was you that he was interested in. Your innocence appealed to him, and the strength of your devotion, especially at such a young age, what an enchanting young girl you were. Perhaps he'll possess you and devour your soul while you sleep, letting you die while he tucks your spirit away for safe keeping.

Spreading his wings wide, they rested against the cathedral ceiling; the darkness of the spikes and bat-like features looked as if it smeared the face of the great mother Mary and baby Jesus, tainting their warm faces with the hue of black and blood red. His lithe frame is sharply adorned in an all-black suit with fingerless gloves, while his hair is stained royal purple. Gravity did not affect his demonic nature; no one would have been able to notice him even if he decided to become visible to the mortal eye. He took on a perfect stance of a straight stand, parallel to the roof of the ceiling, with arms carelessly crossed and a raised hand stroking his lips by the lead index. Chuckling, he becomes amused and admires your happiness in becoming one of them, another tribal animal that falls into the pretenses of spiritual love and devotion, neglecting the nature of your mortal existence and desire. That won't do for him, considering he can only devour your spirit when it is strong in faith.

……………..

Years have passed since then, and the hellish guest permanently remained in your life, unbeknownst to you. It was enjoyable for him to watch you grow, molding into a prideful young woman. He admired your dedication but grew infatuated by your stubbornness. You had no problems remaining vigilant in keeping your chastity, but it wasn't easy. As you came of age, you longed for a sense of touch and physical companionship. Most times, you continued to plow through life with your dedication strong and steady, yet some moments you questioned if you were doing enough, feeling complacent with your current path and therefore drifting in thought, wondering if there is more to life than just serving the Lord.

It had hit you hard upon graduating high school, you realized that your greatest wish was to do more, thus furthering your motivation to stay on the current course. Especially after observing your peers, watching them take part in dating, following the natural courses of love, marriage, and family life. You did everything you could to take your mind off it, from actively volunteering in holy community services to leading Bible study every day, but none of it gave you the strength you needed to stay engaged with your dedication to God. Unfortunately for you, he had sensed it and took great delight watching as you tried fighting off your instinctive desires as a mortal woman.

There were times when his invisibility was clicked on or off, depending on his mood, yet it didn't matter for each time that he was present, he remained undetected. Whether it was appearing as the air itself, or disguising as one of your friends, teachers, or even your parents, he gained interaction to hear how lovely your voice became with age. He had found you peculiar upon discovering you as a young girl, but seeing how you grew into the dedicated young woman you are today, he was obsessed. Who could have ever thought that demons could gain affection and desire for humans? It wasn't natural nor was it normal, but there is a first for everything, including him. The last straw was when he lay, relaxing himself on your bedspread, watching as you remained oblivious to his unobtrusive presence. Figuring you were going to conduct your normal routine in changing inside your closet space, he relaxes on your bedding, already knowing that your inclusive habit was due to your shyness in changing out in the open, despite being nestled in the privacy of your room…or so you thought.

It's true, that you have made a habit of changing in discrete areas such as your closet or your bathroom, but time has an effect on everyone, even God's most dutiful child. Sure, you were still fruitful and pure, but as you matured, you found it nearly silly

you weren't as shy as you were before. You were a fully, blossomed young woman who helped and loved her family and had prospects to attend the university of your choice in the oncoming months, all with the attending hopes of joining a nunnery and becoming a bride of his holiness.

His brow raises when he notices you undressing. Shifting his gaze, he looked confused for a moment as you broke out of your traditional habit, and stripped off your clothing delicately until you reached full nudeness. It takes a lot for him to become shaken, it's never happened before, but you accomplished a feat that many, including the demons of Hell, found impossible to achieve. There he lay, iris expanding and glowing red as he noted the suppleness of your soft skin, how you tenderly removed your skirt, blouse, and the undergarments that cradled your luscious breasts and the simple white lace that protected the heart of your core. It was at that moment for the first time since he discovered you, he realized that he was not just intrigued, but obsessed with having you. His infatuation develops into something deeper and stronger upon seeing your bare form, he had to keep you, shower you with his darkness, and hide your lightened heart away for only him to admire.

………………

"Y/N, come here sweetheart, and meet the new priest who has graciously volunteered his services to our church."

You had just returned from your college orientation and noted an unfamiliar umbrella staged by the front door upon entry. Your steps were timid, but you approached the living room steadily, catching sight of your mother and father both speaking to a tall figure, with his back facing you. Your mother catches your entry and bids you to introduce yourself, and you had every means of doing so gracefully, until he turned around.

"Y/N, this is Father Ethan, he has come from far away and is blessing our church with his devotion and preaching of God." Your father added on, continuing your mother's praise of the rather young-looking man that stood before you. He had dark, shiny black hair, was lean, and had a handsome face; for a priest, he was unlike any holy servant you had ever seen before. He was Asian, though you couldn't pinpoint which national region his ethnic background came from, and didn't probe to ask as it would have been too rude. You smiled sweetly and finally gulped faith before emitting your first words in greeting him.

"It's…nice to meet you, Father Ethan. My name is Y/N…."

"Well hello, it's very nice to finally meet you, Y/n. Your parents were spending the last hour boasting about you."

Looking over to your parents, Father Ethan displays a sly smirk as he crosses his arms and swings his body before returning his gaze to your direction. Your parents nod with approval and gleam proudly. You couldn't be entirely sure but there was something strange about your meeting with Father Ethan; there was an unusual level of attraction that you felt towards, and from him.

The next day, you carried out your diligent duties in leading Bible study for the younger age group. Walking in, you immediately became aware of the stark emptiness inside; no one was around, yet the candles were lit. Making your way down the aisle, you looked around and peeked between the benches, only to find that the main hall was just as empty. You stood before the holy cross, admiring the small statues and chalices that decorate the platform where the priest conducted his prayer and Biblical lecture, when suddenly a deep voice emerges from behind you. "You're here for Bible study?"

Sharply turning, you set your eyes on Father Ethan. He stood straight and tall, wearing a casual black suit with a white undershirt, partially unbuttoned. "Oh, I'm sorry Father, I didn't know you were here."

"Pay no mind, and no need to apologize." he slyly smiles in response.

Surrendering a faint nod, you smiled sweetly before clearing your throat. "Are the children here?"

"Oh you mean the ones you're leading for the lecture? I'm afraid not, everyone had prior engagements set in stone and couldn't make it."

Stroking his chin, he flares his infamous smirk once more, locking his gaze and finding you heavenly and delectable.

"You know…y/n….your diligence and faith towards God is astonishing."

"It is?"

"Mmhmm…I wonder if there is anything you wouldn't do, all in the name of your love for him."

Your eyes slightly widen as you lean in, enhancing the value of your statement. "There isn't…I would do anything to show my loyalty and to become closer, I intend to be a bride of God."

"You want to be a nun?"

Nodding, you shifted your gaze to the side upon feeling his gaze examining you with intrigue.

"Interesting." Walking towards you, his hand reaches down and gently cups your cheek. Just as he expected, your skin was soft and supple, the strands of your hair grazing against his knuckle felt like silk threads, and you warmed his coldness in an instant. "Hm…pretty."

You were taken aback by his statement, as he displays a devious smile. "No-no…it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you…in fact, I'm here to help you to get closer…"

"Closer to God?" your eyes began to water, yet you couldn't help it, you became curious by his rather bold statement. Chuckling, he bites down on his lower lip and steps back. "You wanna see proof?… You wanna see a miracle…y/n?"

Nodding once more, you watch as he takes one of the empty chalices in his hand and flicks it. The chime of the brass echoes through the main hall and into the massive foyer. Presenting it to you, you gently cradle the cup in both hands and become stunned upon seeing that the chalice was filled with blood-red wine. "I-is….is this?…. How?" You snapped your gaze over to him, curious for an explanation as you were quite sure the chalice was empty a moment ago.

"Are…you an….are you an angel?… Father Ethan?"

"Something like that." tilting his head, he continues to flash his devilish smile before whispering once again, "Something….like that."

Looking down at the chalice, you smile softly. "Can I ask why you're here?"

Playfully rolling his eyes to the side, he shrugs his shoulders before emitting an answer. "Just here to help preach his desire."

"….What is his desire?"

"You really want to know?"

"…..Yes…."

Snapping his hand forward, he snags your wrist and rapidly pulls you close, pressing you chest to chest. "First…." he softly lets out into your ear before he slowly licks the nook of your neck.

"Father! W-what…!"

"Shh….I said…everything is going to be alright…don't you trust me?….If you don't, I guess I can leave and you'll be forever marked in his eye as someone who went against his will…."

Gasping, you desperately voiced out your objection. "No! That's not true! I would do anything for him, even if it meant giving up my happiness. That's how much I love him."

"Huh…that right?" Rolling his tongue, he tilts his head and peers his gaze into yours. "You know what would make him happy?"

"….No…would you tell me?"

"Its easier if I showed you…come here."

Gripping your shoulders, he straightens your posture and squares you up with his frame. He leans in and places a soft and sensual kiss on your neck, stirring a vibrating sense to riddle deep inside your gut. Giving you the thrill of passion, he presses his parted lips against yours and harshly breathes out, coating your skin with the warmth of his exhale. Slowly, his tongue trails through his mouth, feeding its way through your lips and smears his saliva over your tongue and cheek. Your brows furrow in fear and worry, but slowly transitions into delight once you reminded yourself of how Father Ethan was bringing you closer to God, or so he says. No one could blame you, after all, seeing his talent with what he did to the chalice was proof enough that he was not an ordinary person. But what was he exactly?

Your thoughts were interrupted when his grip changes, holding your firmly by your waist while he buries his tongue deeper. As soon as you let out a gasping moan, he takes things a step further by smoothing his palms over every curve of your body. Hesitant, you try to push yourself away, yet his hold on you remained strong and he continues to shower you with the passion of his sinful touch. "Stay close to me, I promise I'll show you heaven."

"O-okay…." you faintly whispered, unable to make any sense of what was going on. You knew that what he was doing was a sin, something your parents had warned you to avoid. However, when he began feeding his hand under the hem of your dress, and smother your neck and chin with his dangerous kisses, you faltered at the sensation, keeping in mind that you were displaying your loyalty to God and his will.

"F-Father Ethan…I…I can't breathe…" you whimper as he forces your head to tilt back, allowing him a wider range to lick and nibble the skin on your throat. "It's okay, I'll fix that in a second." He mumbles.

Turning you around, he was abrupt and rough with his movements, he could tell that you didn't seem to mind, at least it didn't sound like it. Since he started to rub your inner thighs, your pitch sounded more pleasurable and less fearful. Either you were too trusting towards him, or you were melting at the feeling of being ravished by his hands and mouth.

Piercing your entry, you gasped in shock upon realizing that his hand had made its way under your panties, taking advantage of your partially exposed cavity. "Wait! Wh-what are you doing!?" you gasped out, placing your hands on his shoulders as he inserts his fingers, lifting you upwards in the process. "Dont worry…its all in his will, remember?" Father Ethan smirks as he burrows his face into your neck, groaning against your skin. "You wanna be closer to heaven, riiiiight?" Gripping a handfull of your hair, he forcefully tilts your head to the side and bites, "Ah! That hurts!" Resetting your position, he looks down at you under heavy lids, his smirk completley gone but the lust in his eye remains. "Tell you what, if you're good, I'll show you my wings."

You looked up, completely bewildered. "You have…wings?" He nods his head as he pets your hair, it was at that moment you were convinced he really was an angel. Sensing your instant will and obedience, he ignores in confirming the validity of your submission and instead, turns you around while ripping your dress in half. Shredding off your undergarments, you cover yourself as you stood fully nude with his frame pressing against you from behind. "Did you know that you've been lied to all your life?" kissing your back, he leaves a lengthy trail down your spine as he plasters his lips onto your skin.

"W-what do you mean?" You ask in all earnesty, trying to refrain from releasing your desperate moans of pleasure as you relish in the sensation of each kiss. With his lips pressed onto your lower back, he grips the back of your thighs before mumbling against you, giving a slight tickle. "God would never demand that his creations to be so ignorant as to dismiss their instinctive will to learn the life lessons of pleasure, pain, and happiness. It's what humans are meant to do in their short lifespan." Biting down, you felt the sting of his demeanor on the back of your shoulder. "I'm sure he appreciates the spiritual faith in his name, but what good is flesh and blood if not without the practice of tasting, feasting, and desiring the need to touch and be touched."

Counterattacking his resolve, you whimper your words, trying your best to maintain composure. "Flesh and blood is all but a facade, its our will that remains everlasting and true."

Chuckling, you feel his teeth against the back of your neck as he responds in amusement. "Hmph…that right? Well then princess, let's see if we can break that will of yours."

He wastes no time and begins to insert his lengthy shaft into your womanhood. Even though you hadn't given him consent, you weren't resisting to the act, so long as he kept his promise in bringing you closer to God, among other things. True, you wanted to be closer, you wanted to see Father Ethan's wings, and you wanted to enter heaven, but there was also the longing built up within you that desired for him to do more. The feeling of his thickness filling you became the most painful and pleasurable sensation you've ever felt; you nearly questioned how you could have gone so long without experiencing it, when a quick thrust on his part pinched you with sharp pain.

"Ugh….it-it hurts! F-Father Ethan…."

"Call me Heeseung baby." Be breathes out in a low groan.

"He-Heeseung?"

Noting your perfect pronunciation, he showers you with praise as he continues to lick your neck. "Very good. You have a gift of tongues, don't you?"

Fully leaned forward, he coats your back with his chest, sealing his muscle as he stuffs his entire girth in between your wet folds. "Ready to see Heaven?"

You hesitated for a second, but nodded as your body shook vigorously from the immense pressure. "Alrighty then." he smirks, just as he starts his thrusts back up. "Wow…you're fucking perfect, aren't you?"

He starts slow, but picks up the pace as he continues to pump his lengthy cock in and out of your entry. The bulging tip harshly taps against a sweet spot that lays dormant inside of you, something you never knew existed until now. In and out, he steadily increases the pace, the sound of your skin wrapping his, squelching as he thrusts ferociously with the hidden intentions of staining your internal spirit with the darkness of Hell. He goes faster, your body jolts forward as he slams his cock deep inside each time, with his thighs slamming against your own and his groin popping against your derriere. Lost in the whirlpool of erotic pleasure, your moans were interrupted as you felt his fingers crawling up, around your neck, and onto you chin. Tapping his finger against your lips, he lets out an indiscriminate tone and smirks out another one of his chuckles. "Open." Bidding to his demand, you part your lips and watch as he slips his index in and rubs the inside of your cheek. "Good girl…"

Just as you started to question his claims, his voice punctures your thoughts when he asks you, "Can you see them?"

Never losing his momentum, he continues to pump his cock, disrupting the tightness and elasticity of your feminine virtue, jerking your body back and forth from his performance. Confused by his formulation, you were about to bid him to elaborate when suddenly you saw the glowing of spheres surrounding your bodies. Thrusting, your body motions forward and back as he pulls you by the hips, making it nearly impossible for you to admire the majestic beauty of what appeared to be stars, encircling you.

"W-what….ugh!"

"I told you, didn't I?…I'd show you heaven…"

Seeing the evidence of what you could only surmise as divine intervention, you submit fully by extending your arms overhead and plastering your forearms against the wall, spreading your legs even more and allowing him unbarricaded access. Arching your back, you perk your rear cheeks upward, wanting to see and feel more.

"Yeah? Bet you wanna see more, don't you?" he scoffs in between his growls. Nodding, you bend and submit every inch of your will and begged him to do more. "Huh….if only everyone you know could see you right now….what would dear mommy and daddy think if they were to see their precious daughter getting fucked…hmm?" Following his words, he speeds up his thrusts as he firmly grips the center of your throat. "Keep yourself steady baby….you feel so fucking tight like this."

Following his instructions, you keep yourself arched as you feel his thrusts going in deeper and harder. His fingers rubbing the side of your neck as he holds you down, pinning you against the wall while he takes advantage in fully penetrating you. The more he did, the more you saw. Soon the entire hall was filled with the glowing spheres; you watched as they fluttered around and looked too beautiful to be real. They had to be angels; small and delicate cherubs that were enhancing the legitimacy of his claims.

In between your pleading moans, you faintly smile as you felt wholesome in seeing what others could not, all due to giving yourself up to this man. Letting him continue, he delightfully takes you in and punctures your entry for hours, painting your skin blue, purple, and red by his licks and nibbles. He kept going and going, your body became numb and the pleasure wore off, the only thing you could feel at this point was prickling pain and sting, yet each time he sensed your weakened state, he taunted you with his words, teasing as he scoffs them out. "Are you giving up on me? Should I stop?"

You shook your head every single time, maintaining your stance so that you could continue to be closer to your faith, to which he would respond with a chuckle, and a dark decree. "Gonna fucking break you to pieces, girl."

You barely had enough time to process his word's let alone respond, all due to his last and final effort in increasing his speed. "Oh fuck you feel so good…going to make me cum."

With tears staining your cheeks, you shook your head as you helplessely leaned your head against the wall's surface, already having done too much to suddenly stop now, not that he would ever let you. Punching your internal gut, he goes faster, deeper, and harder. Your breasts bounce fiercly as your hair flies forward, your skin tainted red as he drags his nails and digs them in. Reaching your breaking point, a sharp, stabbing sensation pierces your clit as overstimulation takes effect from the constant throbbing of his cock. "Please! No more! I-I cant!"

Your scream was all he needed to hear before he releases, fully submerging his cock deep as he groans into your ear. "My little slut...you feel me turning us into parents?" Filling you, your walls become stained by the creaminess of his seed, the warmth of it all eases you inside and out. When he was finally done, he slowly exits, releasing his grip and letting you drop to the floor. You whimper as you lay weakened, your womanhood destroyed and beaten, and all he did was stand feircly tall as he smiled deviously. Grabbing hold of his cock, he slowly strokes it as he watches you faintly struggle up. "How pretty…I'm going to have fun keeping you all to myself."

Looking up, you tearfully watch as his blackened hair turns purple, his eyes glowed dangerously red, and his lips darken. The white spheres around suddenly turned black, formulating into wild shapes of various demons with jagged teeth and elongated tongues that practically reached the floor. Beyond frightened, you gasped out a series of whimpers as you used your arms to back away, only to meet with the wall behind.

"What?…Scared?" he chuckles, taking his steps closer to you. "Didn't I promise to show you my wings? My pretty...pretty....pretty wife..."

Furrowing your brows, you looked at him mercifully when he abruptly stretches his neck. From left to right, a series of cracks could be heard as he hovers his chin over each shoulder, his lids remained partially shut, revealing the rolling of his eyes towards the back of his head; with a subtle groan, he releases his bat-like wings as they extend high and wide. Covering your mouth, you gasp in horror as you begin to sob hysterically. What have you done? Who was he and just what did you allow him to do to you? The entire afternoon spent with him taking away your purity.

"Y-you're….you're not an angel…." you muttered out, watching as he reopens his eyes and tilts his head. Gazing at you with a smirk that pitied your oblivious state of mind, his eyes drift and takes in the miraculous sight of you from head to toe. He loved how broken and helpless you looked, trapped against the wall as you attempt to cover your breasts and bring your closed legs in. With a pleading tone, you asked with sweet innocence in your voice as your eyes pushed out fresh tears. "A-are you….the Devil?"

Smirking, he takes in a final step and kneels down before you, leaning in for a kiss. Holding your head steady by a fistful of hair, he gently pulls your head back, and whispers before sealing your fate eternally, having special plans in store for when he brings you back home with him, leaving you unfound and forever a mystery in the world you were born into.

With a deep tone, his lips brush against your own as he responds…

"Something like that…"

Taglist: aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 10)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: Thankfully, things have been resolved between you and Konig. You start to settle in more with your team, and Roze shares a few thoughts with you over a smoke. The memories are still there, but just like the winter around you, they're cold and unwelcoming. You and Konig open up to each other a bit more, more than you had ever opened up to anyone.

WARNINGS: implications of masturbation, cursing, angst (if you squint?), plot building, graphic depictions of animal torture and death (PLEASE CONSIDER ALL WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME thank you kindly)

Notes: Yes! Hello! I exist!! I've been in a slump, and I really do apologize for that. Many of you have been very patient with me and I love and appreciate you all for it! I had to intake as much CoD literature as I could in the past few weeks to get me motivated, which helped a LOT (not to mention I discovered no fewer than ten works that currently have a hold on my heart). But it's here! I forced myself to write over half of the following chapter so that it would be less daunting to finish up. I also plan to make a wip post for yall, just to share will everyone what goes on in my rat brain.

This was edited at 3 am (god it's 4 am now, i just saw that), so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors you have my full consent to call me out on it! Please enjoy!

(sidenote, I completely didn't research how old you need to be to become a navy SEAL, so reader's age is a bit inaccurate in regards to that. pls ignore lol)

(last sidenote then you can read, does anyone have tips for customizing the layout of their fics? I see so many cool ways to style the font and cute banners and errything but I have no idea how nor what to do)

- - - -

The sky hung low with a blanket of gray. It looked like it was about to snow, although the threat was soon dismissed when noon came around and there wasn’t a single flake. The air was cold and dry, forcing me to zip my jacket up all the way and tuck my nose into the collar. I blew steady, warm breaths into my jacket and tried to soak up the heat into my bones.

It was as if the incident had never happened.

Konig and I ended up driving to the liquor store, which was a blessing, since I had run out of Yeungling (and I didn’t understand enough Turkish to converse with the clerk, nor did I have any of the appropriate money – Konig was graced with both of those necessities). We talked like there had never been a week and a half of silence between us. He talked about how he had nearly forced Ridgeback to drag me out of my room and into the common area, “… but it would have been too early for that.” He commented. That, and I would have rather died.

So life went on as normal: dreary, aside from shooting people and getting shot at. Nonetheless, it was normal, and there was a peace to be found in that.

I leaned against the building to the training room, with Roze to my left. I had intended to come out and soak up whatever natural light I could – when I saw her standing there, possibly trying to do the same, I felt the instinct to play it off as if I was just leaving the building. But she cocked her head in a greeting, and a part of me took an interest in her worry-free aura. Out of everyone, she always seemed to be the least-stressed person in the room, even in the middle of a warzone. It was the balm to my anxious mind that I never knew I needed, but gratefully stood by.

We remained together in a comfortable silence (one I would most definitely would not have been comfortable with a while ago), staring ahead, watching the indecisiveness of the brooding clouds above. I wondered what the rest of the world was doing – if they might have been as calm and carefree as us, or if they were in some kind of peril, and the horrors of it were blocked out by the clouds.

I was drawn back to the present when I heard the click click click of Roze’s lighter. I turned my head and watched as she shielded the weak flame from the wind, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from her lips.

“You smoke?” I asked.

“Sure do.” She replied nonchalantly. “Want one?” she extended her pack of cigarettes towards me.

I glanced at the box, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.

I lay on my stomach, my muscles still twitching and shaking as I tried to even out my breaths. Ghost had tossed a thin blanket over my lower half. I hadn’t even moved from the position he had ruthlessly fucked me in – my body ached too much to even try, and my mind was still recovering from the past hour.

I watch Ghost as he reclined next to me, pushing the bottom of his mask up to place a cigarette between his lips. It was the first time I had seen any part of his face all day. He grabbed his lighter from the pocket of his pants that were discarded on the floor, lighting the end of the cigarette and inhaling. He tossed the lighter back down to the floor as he tilted his head back, exhaling a long stream of smoke. I watched it swirl in the lamplight, settling in a cloud around us. He continued puffing, staring at the wall across from the bed as I lay beside him, although I felt worlds away from him.

He'd started off the night with a mountain of stress from a mission gone sideways. Instead of the usual slow build, where he would run his hands under my shirt and kiss my lips slowly and tenderly – he had walked in and immediately demanded I remove my clothes while he began stripping out of his. I had assumed tonight was going to be a passionate one, until he threw me onto my stomach and shoved my face into the pillows. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rough with me, but it wasn’t just rough – it felt dehumanizing. An hour of constant, merciless thrusts, and a hand around my neck that restricted both my blood flow and my oxygen, and I had fallen into a state of shock.

But, in the end, I was happy to be caged in by him again.

I was happy.

He turned his eyes towards me, seeming to sense that something was off. He exhaled another puff of smoke. “Everythin’ alright?” he asked, completely void of any genuine concern.

I met his eyes with my own. I felt like I shouldn’t have to answer the question, and it stirred up a bitterness in me. But I didn’t feel like arguing with him, and I certainly didn’t want him to leave – so I nodded my head, slowly blinking my eyes. “Just tired.”

He hummed and faced the wall again. He brought one of his knees up and rested his arm against it. “Want a smoke?” he asked, still looking away.

I shook my head as much as the pillow beneath me would allow. “No.” I replied.

He sighed disappointedly. Apparently, my lack of enthusiasm after being used like an old fucktoy was irking him.

To be fair, I never spoke up about how I felt.

He grunted and rose from his position, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray by my bed, and picking up his clothes and pulling them on. My heart ached slightly as I watched him slide his shirt over his torso. I felt the threat of tears sting in my eyes as I wished his hands were holding me instead, keeping me warm and grounded. He pulled his jeans on and fastened them, buckling his belt rather quickly; and all while he faced away from me.

“Well, I know you probably need some alone time.” He muttered, sliding the skull attachment over his mask. “So I’ll get going. I’ll see you around.”

He grabbed his tactical vest and jacket and slung them over his shoulder. He paused by the door. “Thanks for tonight.” He mumbled, before finally leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him.

My eyes lingered on the ashtray with the half-smoked cigarette. A thin trail of smoke plumed into the air – I wanted to throw the tray across the room and shatter it. But it was Ghost’s, so I couldn’t; I couldn’t regardless, because it was a piece of him that remained with me, even when he left.

That, and the smell of smoke.

“Nah, I’m good.” I replied, facing the cold, empty base ahead of me.

“Good.” She said, pinching the cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke. “Stay that way. Did you know these bastards give you cancer?”

I chuckled into the collar of my jacket. “Do they, now?”

She hummed affirmatively, sucking another breath in through the cancerous bastard. “Who would’ve thought…”

We fell back into silence. I continued watching the stillness of the base, trying to see if the sky would follow through with its promise to fall. Now that my free time wasn’t spent holed up in my room, it somehow felt like there were fewer ways to spend it. With another mission on the horizon – a simple recon, yet dauntingly close to a heavily-guarded compound – no one was out and about when they usually were. Finding Roze outside and seemingly not worried was usual, however, and a warm sight, compared to how the rest of the team was on edge. Even Askel seemed grumpier than most days.

I hadn’t been seeking out someone to spend time with, no… that I would never do (or admit). But talking to a familiar face provided a comfort I had grown to need over the past couple of months. And, frankly, I felt like Konig might be getting tired of how much I ran to him when I craved social interaction. Though he had never said anything about it, I felt like I needed to branch out to other team members than just my Colonel. One might think I was trying to kiss his ass (I knew the accusation had already crossed Juno’s mind, but the young soldier was good at holding his tongue – when Konig was around, at least).

“You ever think about how ‘little girl’ you would react to this?” Roze asked, and I turned to face her. She had her nose scrunched, and a tinge of pink dusted over her cold cheeks. “Guns, war, no playdates or days at the beach…”

I sighed. “Probably would have cried.” I replied, allowing my freezing nose to poke over the collar of my jacket. “Especially if I had known that being a princess now adays meant spending more time worrying about becoming a hostage than anything else.”

Roze chuckled. “It’s a good thing we didn’t know then.” Her face was mostly blank, but I thought I noticed a hint of bitterness in the way her gaze landed on the ground. I watched her flick her cigarette with a bit more aggression than usual. “I would’ve tried to convince my entire family to run away to Scotland, live in hiding and pretend the rest of the world was a dream.”

“Scotland?” I asked. Soap’s cocky grin and heavy Scottish accent stirred in my mind, but it felt like nothing more than a small cloud of dust.

“Yeah – heard it’s fucking gorgeous over there.” She waved her cigarette in no particular direction. “Now, I don’t know how peaceful it is in terms of politics and war, but it’s pretty spacious. Simple, too. I feel like if I talked about throwing all my shit away and becoming a fisherman for a living, I wouldn’t get people trying to talk me out of it like I would in the States.” She took another drag, and laughed out the smoke.

“Fisherman?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled, a hardened smile gracing her lips. “I don’t know why it sounds so appealing… it just does.”

I hummed and looked back out at the compound. I wondered about Roze’s past; she had never said or done anything to indicate that it was particularly rough, as it was for the majority of us (us – I still wasn’t used to including myself, but it was becoming more of a habit each time), but the weariness in her eyes when she spoke about her younger self made me question what that girl had been through. Maybe it was just nostalgia. A yen for simpler times. Roze seemed to appreciate the simple things in life.

“You know Askel goes ice fishing?” she said suddenly.

I smiled underneath my jacket. “Seems like something he would do.”

“Every winter.” She continued. She dropped her cigarette to the floor and crushed it into the gravel. “He takes about three weeks of leave, if we’re lucky enough to get it, and goes to Norway. Sits on a frozen lake for hours a day, just waiting for a fish.”

“You make it sound like he’s never caught one.” I point out, my eyes lingering on the cigarette.

She shrugged her shoulders. “So does he. Every time I ask him what he caught, he just laughs. Says he’s never expects to get a bite.”

I closed my eyes and hummed in response. It was easy to picture the scene – Askel, sitting on a thick layer of ice, nursing the hoppy beers that he and Konig loved so much and waiting for a fish to bite. I wondered if he even bothered to reel the line in when he did catch something. Or if he even went fishing at all. Maybe he just went out there to get a sense of peace, to pretend that war and death didn’t exist.

The motion of thick, heavy snowflakes falling from the sky caught my attention. They landed on the skin of my nose, resisting the warmth for a few moments, before they eventually melted into trickles of water. A sudden gust of wind blew a flurry of them towards us, making the both of us flinch.

Maybe fishing doesn’t sound too bad.

- - - -

The shooting range was mostly silent, save for the occasional conversation between me and Konig. The lights were low, easily illuminating the gunpowder and dust swirling in the air. Konig and I stared at the paper target as we analyzed my shots. A few hit dead center, although most of them were clustered around the lower left of the bullseye. My lips were pursed into a scowl as I glared at my sub-par aim – it wasn’t typically so awful, but of course it was while Konig had been watching.

“Eh, are you sure you didn’t lie on your paperwork about being a sniper?” Konig asked as he stood behind my left shoulder, taking the target from my hands and looking at it closely. “You weren’t even ten yards from it. This is very poor marksmanship.”

I scowled in embarrassment, taking my pistol to the counter and pulling out the mag. “Rough day.” I answered bluntly as I started packing more bullets into the small compartment. It wasn’t a lie – I had barely gotten any sleep the night before. I was in the middle of a rather interesting dream involving me and Ghost, until my alarm woke me up before anything of importance happened.

“Very bad…” he mumbled to himself. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

“Y’know…” I grumbled, loading the mag back into the gun and shoving it in my holster, “I don’t like stereotyping, but the boot really does fit you.” I walked past him and out into the hallway, not waiting for him to follow.

“Hmm?” he made an indignant noise, momentarily stuck in his spot, before he came jogging after me. “What does that mean? What stereotype?”

I chuckled. “Haven’t you ever how Germans are extremely blunt?” I asked.

“Austrian.” He retorted. “Do I need to brand that onto my face for you?”

“Wouldn’t do me much good, with the mask ‘n all.” I replied.

He laughed – rather snorted, as usual – “Ah, you’re right. Maybe I am blunt – just as much as you are defensive.”

I stopped at the end of the hall, right in front of the exit. “Defe-“ I turned on my heel to scowl at him. “I am not defensive! Where did you get that idea?!”

He stopped behind me, his eyes widening. He gestured an open palm in my direction. “This.”

I huffed, turning back around to punch the door open. The snow from earlier that day had ceased, blanketing the base in a thin layer of white. The moon seemed that much brighter against the crystalized ground, and the yellow lights scattered across the compound made parts of the snow look like sandy dunes. My nose tingled from the nip of the chilly air, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body as the door fell shut behind me and Konig.

“Well, what am I supposed to say when you call me defensive?”

“You could agree.”

“But I don’t.”

“Which proves my point.”

I huffed in frustration, despite the smirk curling on the edges of my lips. “So, either I have to agree with you, whether I really do or don’t, or you’ve corralled me into a paradox.”

I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “A what?”

“A paradox, like a – y’know, never mind. It’s too difficult to explain.” I let him fall in step next to me, although he was the one who needed to slow down to match my pace. “We can just agree to disagree, how’s that?”

“Agreed.” He nodded, and I chuckled. “It won’t change the fact that I’m right, you know.” He added.

I bit my lip and tried to keep my smile from growing ridiculously larger. I looked up at him and patted his shoulder – he looked down at me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back. A stray, reddish-brown curl poked through the side of his balaclava, and I found the miniscule detail warming my heart through the cold air. He felt real, and in this moment, too human for this kind of life.

“Why did you choose the military?” I asked, turning back to look at the ground as we walked.

He hummed. “Isn’t that every boy’s dream?”

“Well, yes – but most of the time, it never becomes more than that.” I responded.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, mimicking my own position. “I’m not really sure what made me push so much for it. I almost didn’t make it, for obvious reasons.”

I chuckled. “Size does matter, huh?”

He looked down at me with a deadpan gaze, one that I refused to meet. “It almost did, in a bad way. And I almost backed out before they could be the ones to turn me away. But, of course, they knew they would find some use for my size – so they took me in.”

“And what did they do with you?” I asked, looking back at him.

“A ‘human battering ram,’ as my superiors had so nicely called it.” He framed the description with his hands in the air, as if it had been written on a plaque. I laughed and looked back down at my feet.

“Seriously?” I asked. “So they just had you breaking down doors, and then what?”

Konig laughed with me. “Well, I still had a gun, so I was able to shoot, thank goodness. And I had a bit more gear so I wouldn’t break my bones against the doors – I still dislocated my shoulder a few times, however…” he rolled his left shoulder, as if there was still a lingering pain from how often he had thrown himself at doors. “It was actually during a period of recovery when I proved that I could still be a sniper. My shoulder was still healing, so I had to give up being a battering ram for a while. I was sat with Horangi on the side of the mountain to give him cover. Of course, he was ambushed – he had to fight the Arschgiege right when we were given the order to shoot, so I had to take position behind the gun.” I noticed that his chest was puffed out a bit from pride. “That really knocked their pants off.”

I chuckled, choosing to ignore the inaccuracy of his phrase. “Did it now?”

“It did.” He replied, then looked at the ground. “For a moment. I got a good earful for overstepping boundaries that day, but it’s what ultimately landed me here – so I’m grateful for it.”

I nodded and hummed. “What was Horangi picked for?”

Konig shrugged, his hands now back in his pockets. “He never said what he and Commander had spoken about in his office. But, even if he wasn’t chosen – I like to think we come as a package. If I go, he goes, if he doesn’t, I don’t.”

I felt my heart warm at his words. The memory of how Juno had described Konig couldn’t be farther from my mind. It almost felt like I was talking to someone I briefly crossed paths with in my youth – not a war criminal, not the bloody and stiff soldier who had stepped onto the heli after our first mission. I envied his ability to separate his work stress from the time he had in between missions.

“Why did you decide to join?” He asked, catching me off guard.

It was only fair that I opened up to him, since he was so willing to do the same. Always the one to go first, too. But I had to be careful. I didn’t want this to turn into a pity party, and I didn’t want to dig anything up that I had worked so hard to bury deep beneath my subconscious.

“I was… a weird kid. Like you.” I said, making Konig scoff and roll his eyes. “Looking back now, I hate my younger self. I was so sensitive to what people thought about me, and I just wanted to be independent and strong. I wanted to be a ‘different girl.’” I gritted out the words that left a sour taste in my mouth. “I think I just wanted attention at first – of course, when I heard how everyone said they hated how annoying teenage girls were, and how gullible and weak they were, it just – it made me change. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, it wasn’t just about being different anymore. So, as soon as I turned old enough, I enlisted. Didn’t get to Navy SEAL right away, of course… but I joined every program I was allowed in until I could submit my application.”

I sighed, then chuckled. “Thought my family would say they were proud, that I was successful, that I was doing a good job… they were just angry. Said I was throwing my life away for business that didn’t involve our country.” I opened my mouth to say more, but I ended up scoffing and closing it once again. I felt like I had shared enough.

I looked at Konig, expecting him to acknowledge what I said. “That’s how the story goes…” he would say. But, when I met his gaze, I only saw concern. His brow was creased with what I imagined was pity, and my stomach churned. It was the exact opposite of the reaction I had hoped for. I only wanted to share stories with him, and now it was… this.

“I think you made the right choices.” He said, and I looked away.

“You don’t need to make me feel better, Konig. I appreciate it, but-“

“I’m not just trying to make you feel better.” He said, his accent slightly thicker from his exasperation. “You’re good at what you do. Your parents are just probably worried for you, and they don’t know how to show it.”

I bit down on my tongue, my eyes settling on the building in front of us with a hard expression. If only.

“Maybe that’s it.” I muttered, hoping he would drop the subject. He seemed to understand, and turned to look ahead with a disappointed sigh. My heart sank the tiniest bit at the sound, and I internally scolded myself. Still a people-pleaser, apparently.

We continued walking in silence, the buzz of the lights above us mimicking the static of a communication system that had been severed in a time where it was needed most. The edge of the barracks appeared into our view, just around the corner of the arsenal sheds that stood between us and our destination. I continued to stare at the ground, pretending to watch my steps and try to not slip on the snowy asphalt. My heart twisted with each second of silence that sat thickly between us. It wasn’t technically a fight, but somehow, it felt worse. It felt like the first time I had pissed him off, the first time we had spoken to each other – and god, did I already hate myself for the way I had acted towards him during those first few weeks. I didn’t want to drive another wedge between us, not after the ones that had already been worked back out.

I exhaled heavily through my nose. “Sorry.” I mumbled quietly, but loud enough that I knew it reached his ears. “Sensitive topics.”

He flitted his eyes in my direction, but didn’t bother to move his head. He sighed, and I nearly jolted when I felt his wide hand on my upper back. It rubbed back and forth, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was comforting me. Or, trying to, at least.

“I know.” He said, and his hand rested on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was stuck on the feeling of the roughness of his palm, which I could gleam through the fabric of my jacket. How his fingers squeezed gently and released twice. There was no hidden meaning, no forced contact or any kind of attempt to put context into the touch. It was… natural. Warm, comforting, and it spoke a thousand words that I wouldn’t have been able to stomach if he had said them. It broke past my self-hatred and walls of ‘don’t be weak’ that I would have used as my defense if he had tried to verbally convey any sort of consolation. It was the first time I didn’t feel awkward about being so close to him, let alone when he was touching me. I wondered if he did this on purpose, or if he had no idea what he was doing at all.

I let myself stand nearer to him, almost tucked under his arm. I looked up and smiled as genuinely as I could – not that it was hard for me, but because I wanted to make sure that he really knew how much I appreciated the gesture. Although, if he knew that this simple act of comfort would pierce through my outer shell, was it really necessary?

“Thank you, Konig.” I said.

He looked down at me and smiled. That damn smile. I wondered how much more refreshing it would be when he wasn’t wearing his mask. It was already too much for my soul to bear when it was just the crinkling in his eyes that I could see.

“Anytime, Bonnie.” He replied, patting my shoulder before tucking his hand back into his pocket. I grieved minimally at the loss of the touch, but I was happy for what it was. “And I mean it. Anytime you need to talk – or not talk, and do that empty staring that you do – just come find me.”

I quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Anytime?” I asked amusedly.

“Mhm!” Konig replied, his eyes on the ground as he watched his steps. Then, the realization hit him, and his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh- well, eh- I guess, not anytime-“

“You gonna tell me when?” I joked, and he laughed. “You need an open/closed sign on your door.” I jogged ahead, trying to reach the door to the barracks before he did.

“How about this?” he called out, and I could hear the grin behind his mask. “I’ll nail a chalkboard to my door, and if I’m busy, I’ll draw a stick guy jerking off in his bed!”

My cheeks burned after I heard him. “No!” I shrieked, laughing nervously. “You’ll traumatize Juno!” I quickly tried to pin this on someone other than me.

“Juno, hah?” Konig teased, and I had half a mind to run into the building and leave him on the quad. “I don’t care about him. Kid needs to be traumatized.”

I laughed and threw my head back, turning the corner around the arsenal shed. “That’s not very-“

Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat, and I gasped. Konig nearly ran into my back as he skidded to a halt.

Sick, sick, what the fuck, I feel sick-

“Stimmt etwas nicht?” he asked, concerned. “What- oh, scheisse-“

We both stared at the bird on the ground. A crow from the looks of it, though it was hard to even decipher that it was a bird in the first place, due to the state it was in. Its belly had been cut open, entrails and bloody bits pulled from the abdomen and strewn to either side of the bird. Its wings were stretched to their full capacity and most likely beyond it, crushed and missing a large number of feathers. Both of the legs appeared to have been ripped off and tossed to the left of the crow. Its beak was the worst of it all: pried open, the jaw probably broken from how wide it was spread. A haunting look of terror in the crow’s red, glossy eyes made a violent shiver run up my spine.

I exhaled shakily, my eyes still glued to the horror. “Holy shit – what the-“

Konig quickly walked around me and knelt in front of the crow. I shifted to look over his shoulder, still fearfully curious, but he held a hand out behind him, urging me to stay in place. With his other hand, he pulled at one of the bird’s wings, stiff and heavy. Whether it was frozen from the cold, or this was the effects from rigor mortis, I couldn’t tell.

“How – did a fucking fox do that?!” I asked. Are there even foxes in this area? How the hell did one get on base?

“Nein.” Konig replied, still looking at the corpse. His gaze fell upon it with a sense of… familiarity, maybe? “Not a fox, no.”

“Then what? It – whatever it was didn’t even eat-“

“I’ll take care of this.” Was all Konig said. He stood up and marched past me – I was barely able to catch a glimpse of his furious expression. His eyes were hard and narrow, and as he walked away, I noticed that his shoulders were tense and his hands were balled into fists. I didn’t dare say anything to him; he almost looked the same way he did after our first mission together, except this time, his anger seemed to be directed at something, instead of just a post-mission adrenaline high.

“I’ll see you later.” He said over his shoulder. There was an obvious fury to his words, and although I knew it wasn’t intended towards me, it still made me freeze where I stood – almost as if I might anger him more simply by taking a step after him.

Whatever it is… I thought, watching him disappear into the compound, he’s sorting it out. I can take care of myself. Although, with such an abrupt and tense departure, I was at a loss on what to do next. I looked back at the bird; its terrified eyes locked onto the sky above it, frozen in its last wish to fly away from whatever horror it endured.

A shiver ran up my spine, prompting me to look away.

- - - -

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix @v3lv3tvampir3 @theoneandonlykymberlee @luvvnightingalee @dillybuggg @sun-joo @perfectus-in-morte @evilive @satakingslime @comfortless

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 5!!!!!

Okay I promised I'd share my Splinter reference notes, so here I am! Also wanna take a moment to thank everyone reblogging the prev. parts. All the tags/notes are so sweet!!! Anyway, here's our one and only Rat Man,

Splinter Character Notes

Language Habits:

Catchphrase: "HOOOOOT SOUP!!!"

Will yell "whoa/oh nelly!" when in a tight spot or stumbling around

Makes puns/dad jokes, and laughs at said jokes to himself

A poor liar, will skirt around the truth until you drop it

Penchant for interrupting people if he's not interested, devout user of "yada, yada", "ah, bup, bup, bup"

Verbalizes his attacks/moves, something his sons pick up on. Could be a habit picked up from his action star days, such moves include: lights off jitsu, and slow motion jitsu

Uses 2010's slang, (i.e. "totes", "chillaxed"), could see him incorrectly using up to date slang to embarrass his boys

In a group refers to his sons as "boys"

One by one will refer to his sons by their designated colors, but will pull out the full name (not nickname) if the situation is serious

Also refers to Donnie as "the funny one"

Personality:

A performer, well he is an actor after all. He knows how to captivate an audience. Splinter likes attention--something that may be connected to his strict childhood with high expectations--but he also performs for his boys. To keep them happy, but most importantly safe. This also means he keeps his true emotions tucked closely to his chest

Jovial. Despite his dark past and heavy responsibility thrust upon him at a young age, Splinter is always laughing. He finds the fun in everything

Secretive. As mentioned before, Splinter tends to keep things close to his chest. Despite this, he's a terrible liar. He'll just avoid the truth until it comes back to bite him in the ass. This makes him sometimes a little emotionally unavailable

Lazy. He always finds the easiest way to do something, and procrastinate on his responsibilities as long as possible

Vain. He's glory seeking for all the proper attention he lost in his youth. So the Lou Jitsu aspect of his life boosted his ego in irreparable ways. He also uses the identity of Lou Jitsu to escape from the idea of being stuck as a rat. Glorifying the past is way to find comfort for him

Adrenaline junkie. Part of that glory-seeking and glorification of the past manifests into him needing adrenaline to feel alive. (i.e. when he steals the tank)

Attentive and empathetic. He can be a little hare-brained when it comes to remembering the details, but he's always very attentive to his sons needs. In flashbacks he's shown to supply them with items needed for their interests (i.e. little Mikey gets art supplies), and always apologizes when he messes up (i.e. the conversation he had with Donnie). This empathy also extends to other people and animals, as he was sympathetic with Cassandra when she was lamenting about the foot clan and was immediately worried about the turtles Draxum had in his lab

Protective. He would sacrifice everything to save his sons, and he does

Miscellaneous:

His tail is Very expressive, and one of the most active parts of his body, so if you want to subtley show emotion I'd focus on that

Has a Lou Jitsu body pillow

Remembers all his stunt double's names

Snores loudly

Talented singer, can sing opera and lived next to a karaoke bar in Japan

The show he watches the most is called "Soapy Treadmill", a Japanese game show where they throw things like scorpions at people who are soapy on treadmills

Has a "do not touch!" cabinet, full of trophies, mystic artifacts, and mementos of his past

I have a List of all the mentioned Lou Jitsu movie names mentioned in S1, but I'm probably gonna wait till the end of my S2 rewatch and post it separately (it's also long too). Will link here!

I'm also gonna add a recommendation here at the end.

This is for the white and non East Asian folks. I'm not as well-versed in East Asian or Japanese culture, but Splinter is a first generation immigrant! He keeps a distance from his heritage because of the trauma of his youth, and the role Lou Jitsu probably also forced him to westernize his identity to make it more palpable to Hollywood. But it would be a disservice to sever parts of his identity, because one is uncomfortable or not knowledgeable in writing it.

For my white folks intimidated by writing a person of color because they want to get it right, research always helps. Research helps with everything!!! writingwithcolor here on tumblr actually has a lot of useful resources, here's their guideline, and a research chart one of their moderators created, which I personally found to be very helpful. I believe their ask box is closed right now, but if you ask questions in the future be nice!!!!

Anyway I'm gonna do April next :)

[ieatedyourcrayons]

Window visitor

Jeff the killer x Reader

No warnings besides the mentions of Jeff’s facial features and a mention of blood. gender and pronouns not used

After hours of tossing and turning in your bed, you open your eyes and groan. You had no idea why you couldn’t sleep and it was aggravating you.

You sit up lazily and glance around the room. The only thing illuminating the room is the street light across from your house peeking through the sheer curtains on your window.

You body aches and begs for the sleep your brain refuses to give. Your body feels restless and sore. You rub your hands on your face before pulling the blanket off of your body and throwing your legs over the edge of the bed.

You sit there for a minute, contemplating whether you should get up or not. You reach for your phone and check the time, in the process blinding yourself from how bright the screen is, to u decide that there’s no point in trying to sleep anymore as it’s now 4:47 Am.

You stand up off the bed and stretch, nearly passing out from how long you held the stretch. You let it go with a sigh before walking over to your window and opening it.

The cool night air flows into your room and brushes your bare legs. You shiver at the sudden temperature drop and stand there and stare out the window. Nothing is happening outside except the occasional bird flying or small animal running across the street.

You eventually climb into the window and sit on the small ledge and yawn after sitting.

“Can’t sleep huh?” A deep voice sounds to the left of you. You slightly jump and quickly turn your head to look at the source of the noise.

When you look over there is a man sitting on the roof under you window with his knees tucked beneath his chin. He has jet black hair and cuts on his face, etching a permanent bloody smile onto his face. His skin is pale and coarse.

“You can’t scare people like that!” You respond quickly. The man chuckles at you and shakes his head.

“Sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you” He responds with an amused tone. “What’s your name?” He questions as he stares at you, unblinking his bloodshot eyes.

“uhm.. it’s okay and.. y/n. how about you?” you respond with confusion. You have never seen this man in your life. Why is he on your roof and talking to you? what happened to his face? no idea.

“Nice, my name is Jeff. I was just stopping for a little break. Didn’t want to sit on the ground though. I was thinking about entering your window” He says with a careless tone and a shrug.

“How about.. don’t do that?” you respond skeptically, forming your mouth into a line after you say that.

“Hey, i considered it, i didn’t do it though” He chuckles with fake defense.

“at least knock first” You chuckle back.

Jeff laughs and responds with a “I’ll keep that in mind” Before glancing over the the end of the street.

The cold night air blows on your face, making your cheeks and nose red. Your sleep clothes providing no warmth. You shiver lightly as you look back across the street.

“I’ll be leaving soon. You might wanna go back inside before you freeze” Jeff speaks up as he picks at his fingernails.

“..yeah. its really cold. i’ll see you around?” You reply as you slowly stand up, trying not to fall.

“Maybe. I’ll try and stop by, and i’ll knock next time.” He laughs, quoting you from earlier.

You laughs back before climbing through you window and saying a “Bye” over your shoulder.

You hear nothing in response and poke your head out the window just to see no one. He left so quick, like he was never there to begin with.

You pull your head back in and shut the window, locking it with confusion. You walk back to your bed and tuck yourself in. Letting the warmth take over you, finally lulling you to the sleep you’ve so desperately craved all night.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

Anyways drawing Spring Unsprung Briar gave me a wild amount of creative energy so here's my pitch for a Spring Unsprung Darling costume

Some details just for fun under the cut:

•Since Lizzie is the designer of the original SU outfits, that's also the case here. Lizzie is perceptive enough of Cerise and her style to very specifically fit her needs without even knowing what those needs are (heavy hood, long hair, big jacket, all very good for keeping covered, no?). The same would happen with Darling. Lizzie might pick up on her fascination with Wonderland, the jewelry fashioned like chainmail or bracers, and decide to incorporate it into her design. I don't know if Lizzie even realizes how perceptive she is, she just has an eye for what brings out someone's real personality.

•In terms of actual design, my main inspiration was chess! I let go of the literal shape pretty fast, but I really liked the idea of her looking like a fancy chess piece as a nod to her wonderland shenanigans. Cerise, Kitty, Lizzie, and Cedar all have black and white recurring patterns with 1-3 main colors, so I tried to mimic that here. I mostly just used the color scheme from my ref sheet I did a hot minute ago

•The hair flowers and colorful makeup were non-negotiable of course. I did want to make the flowers have some kind of relevance, but in the end I just gave up and made 'em generic yellow flowers. Any flower symbolism nerds who want to throw their hat in the ring be my guest!!

•I basically just tried to orient the whole thing around asymmetry and reflection, and I think that worked really well in this case, I think it really makes her pop

•She isn't wearing her typical Charming crest, but the symbol is spread out in a couple of pieces. Heart gem at the center of the neck like normal, and the wing is made into one of those ear cuff things

•The background was just kind of a whim, but there is a reason for it. I decided a while ago that the Charming family animal is a lion, so any heraldry or heirloom or anything like that is probably gonna have that winged heart and/or lion imagery on it. If Daring is the peak of the Charmings, then Daring is a lion. Similarly, Darling is a borzoi. It's just different enough to communicate that she's the black sheep of the family, but has enough similar traits to make it clear that she's not in opposition with them. Plus I think borzois are whimsical as hell with the right lighting and I thought it would look neat

•You can see it right in the corner of one of her eyes, I was playing with maybe giving her partial heterochromia? I think I'm gonna stick with just brown eyes but I'm keeping the concept tucked away in the back of my brain for another character

[oddballwriter]

i have a request for Steven Grant x Witch!Reader. They live in the same floor and never saw each other, but her cat decides one day to go out the window and sneak into Steven's apartment, the poor man was terrified when he got home and found a cat trying to eat Gus...

After he returns the cat, the reader its so grateful that starts baking him cookies, giving him "special" teas so he can manage to sleep some nights. I don't have more ideas for this, but i wanted lots of fluff:(

xoxoxo

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Summary: Coming home to a random cat trying to eat his fish is something, for sure. And it turns out their owner is something too, but he actually kind of likes it.  

Warnings: One use of Y/N. Reader has a collection of little bones and other stuff. None that I actually know of. 

Author’s Snip: This request was nice but for some reason my brain just couldn't find the confidence and energy. If this sucks, anon, I'm sorry. And also this is not proof read.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Coming home to a cat swashing it's paw around in Gus' tank it the last thing Steven wanted to come across after a rough day at the gift shop caused by both Donna and his lack of proper sleep the night before. But it did startle him out of his groggy state as he rushed over to the tank to keep the animal from making his fish its dinner.

After a moment of wrestling it into his arms and getting a few scratches from the feline, he managed to get them tucked safely under his arm. Now Steven had time to think, "How did you get in here, huh?" he asked looking towards the cat and around his flat.

He noticed that his window was open, most likely having left it open for the sake of fresh air and he just forgot to close it when he left for work. Steven defiantly didn't live on the ground floor so it wouldn't cross his mind that someone could come in through it, but he guesses that a wandering cat could get to it just fine.

"Alright, you little burglar. How about we find out how to get you home. Wherever that is." Steven said as he held the cat in front of him to look at them.

They were a black cat with yellow eyes that didn't look all too pleased with having been caught. They were actually very lovely looking with how sleek their fur looked and the vibrant yellow in their eyes. Steven noticed a collar that blended in with the darkness of their fur that had the standard little tag. The name Sabrina was carved into the metal on one side, the other said the name of the same apartment complex that they were in.

"Okay, Sabrina -lovely name for you by the say- finding your home should be easy since you live here." Steven said to the cat before thinking a bit longer, "Somewhere." he added.

Steven's first thought was that if Sabrina managed to get into his flat then her owner lived on the same floor since she could have walked along the rim of the building till she came across Steven's window. So he went door to door knocking on each of the tenants' door and asking "Is this your cat?".

It took quite a while and a few faces, with them all saying no.

It wasn't until he got to the door closest to the end of the fall on the other side that he finally got something. He knocked on your door and saw you on the other end. "I'm sorry to bother you, Ms. But by any chance is this your cat?" Steven asks as he holds up the fur ball.

Your eyes widen a bit before you speak. "That is my cat, yes. That I have been looking for for fifteen minutes." you confirm as you hold out your arms to take the cat from him. "I came home earlier and found her trying to catch my fish. She must've came through my window." Steven explains. You sigh, "I am so sorry about that. I have a little window open in my apartment that I thought she couldn't get through. Turns out she's an escape artist." you explain for your end.

"I used to let her roam around the block but she's been naughty recently and been brining back dead birds she caught." you say.

You catch a glance at Steven's hands and notice the scratches. "Oh no. Looks like she wasn't easy to catch either." you worry. "Here. Come in. Let me get you something as a thank you." you invite as you move deeper into your flat. "Oh. No no. It's nothing really. It wasn't too much trouble." Steven politely declined, not wanting to intrude on being in your space. "I insist. You look like you could need something." you remark. Steven, for whatever reason, took you up on your offer and came inside, closing the door behind him. That's when he actually managed to drink in the look of your home.

Steven always figured that the flats looked like each other and had the same layout with the differences in their looks being their owners and how they decorated. And you have made your flat really look like something. The whole place spelt of nice herbs and incense, not strong and over powering, but just enough that it still had that earthy smell that soothed. You have shelves and stands that had a plethora of things like crystals, books, candles, and trinkets, and the occasional jar of... something. One was full of little bones. There were even a few filled with various things like herbs, charms, and other things, all seals with wax. There were some plants strewn about, mostly vine-like or more herbs. On the walls were various tapestries that showed different thinks like whimsical symbols, runes, circles, and cosmic thinks like stars, the sun, the moon, and consolations along with dried flowers. Of course there was furniture, he took a seat on your couch in the living room which was full of things that also matched that look and feel of the place. A lot of patchwork and quilted designs with throw pillows and blankets.

He was busy taking in so much of your place that he hadn't noticed you moving about in your kitchen. It wasn't until you spoke up that he snapped out of it.

"I don't have any coffee so I hope you like tea." you say. "Tea's perfectly fine." Steven smiles. "Is there anything you like specifically?" you ask as you grab a kettle and some mugs. "Um... I could go for something citrusy. If that's not too much to ask." he sheepishly requests. You nod in understanding and get to making the tea. In the mean time Steven looks around from his spot a little more. He notices on the coffee table that theres some more candles and little pieces of decor.

"You have a lovely place." Steven compliments, earning a thank you from you. "How long have you lived here?" Steven asks. "A few years now." you answer as you walk over towards the living room and set down a few things like a container of sugar and a plate of treats.

"I'm surprised I've never seen you. I met a good bunch of the people on this floor." you comments. "Guess we just never crossed path until now." you shrug. "Bit unfortunate that it had to be through my cat almost eating your fish." you add. "I'm Y/N, by the way." you state with Steven telling you his name in return.

The rest of the evening was spent talking about each other. Like hobbies and work. Of course Steven just had to ask about all your things, which lead to a tea leaf and tarot reading. The tarot was something about him getting bored with his day to day life but that things will become eventful soon and his life will change. As for the tea leaves, according to you, signaled that he had a big journey ahead of him.

Somehow, his sleep issues came up, to which you got all excited and told him "I have just that thing." and rushed back into your kitchen. When you came bake you had a little bag full of tea and told him that it was a homemade tea that helps with sleep and to just make a cup or two in the case that he can't sleep. If it were anyone else, Steven would have, politely, refused a bag of mystery herb that was claimed to be tea, he also wouldn't have just gone into a strangers house, but you were nice and didn't seem to have any ill intent in your actions.

After that, you and Steven were somewhat close friends and had begun to see each other in passing more frequently. Maybe Steven's even thought of asking you out to lunch sometime.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hey, hope your day's going well so far 😊 In reference to your stuffed animal question, I think Aaron comes over when he finds out you're sick and he has a key, so he lets himself in. Usually you would have them put up when he comes over, but he comes as you're sleeping so he walks in and you're snuggled up tight with them 🥺

hey, it was!! i hope yours was good!! omg omg i have an idea!! ps. i’ve really been obsessed with stegosauruses so excuse that!!

you’d not been having a good time at all. your nose was clogged up, you were running a fever, your eyes burnt- everything that could’ve been wrong was.

you hated being sick, you were miserable and all you wanted to do was sleep.

you couldn’t though, no matter what you tried and you’d tried a lot. aaron had even stayed on the phone all night with you last night, but your body just wouldn’t relax enough for you to sleep.

that was why you were home currently, trying to find something to tire your body out so you could finally sleep.

despite your boyfriend’s advice, you hadn’t just taken a hot shower and gone to bed.

no, you’d made soup, washed the dishes, and even put on the most soothing and slow instrumental sounds for your brain to shut off- nothing worked.

“fuck it,” you mumble, voice all nasally as you make your way to the shower, taking a steaming one and then changing into your linen pyjamas that were covered in doodles and got in bed.

your hand reached blindly for your yellow stegosaurus, arlo, and clutched the little dino to your chest.

your eyes closed and your breathing evened before you noticed and you were dead asleep.

because of that, you hadn’t heard the door opening or aaron calling for you softly.

he padded through the living room, shaking his head when he saw the pot on the stove and the clear sofa.

“hard head,” he mutters, toeing his shoes off and draping his jacket on your coat rack. “baby?”

his voice remains soft. he finds you sprawled out in bed on your back, little yellow dinosaur tucked to your chest as your nose presses into ‘his’ pillow.

“oh you’re adorable,” he coos, snapping a quick photo of you and your dinosaur before tackling the little bit of laundry you have in your bedroom.

you don’t wake till a couple hours later and aaron has showered and changed into a pair of his own pyjamas that he’d left with you.

your eyes are bleary as you peel them open and find your boyfriend folding clothes.

“aaron?” your voice is gravelly as you twist into the sheets.

“were you expecting your other boyfriend?” he teases, you scoff.

“rude, you’re my only boyfriend.” you clarify, and aaron nods to the fluffy dinosaur clutched to your chest.

you give a sheepish smile when you follow his movement.

“is he my competition?” aaron asks with a smile and you bite your lip to hide your smile.

“no, he’s my little buddy,” you say and if you weren’t so nasally, aaron would find that to be the cutest thing you’ve ever said to him. “for when you’re away.”

“oh baby,” he coos, reaching over the laundry basket to tip your chin upwards. he drops three kisses to your lips. “you’re fucking precious.”

you gasp and cover where alto’s ears are meant to be, “he’s got sensitive ears aaron.”

you gasp and cover where the ears should be on your stuffed toy. “he’s got sensitive ears aaron.”

you let him kiss you again in apology.

[demonslayedher]

A messy ramble about sword decor

Kimetsu no Yaiba was sleeping on menuki, man.

That came back to mind today while visiting a museum exhibit of very fancy sword mountings (like so), because I am me and admiring very realistic metal insects and tiny metal carvings of Tale of Heike battle scenes will always come back to my fandom brain rot. The menuki specifically were on my mind because they are decorative pieces on the handles that hide the mekugi, which are key structural elements--pegs where the handle is attached to the blade, and where some might say a soul is put into a sword.

And, a few years ago while KnY hype was at its height, I heard some people who seemed to try to talk down the hype, saying, "the swords don't even have mekugi! Those aren't real Japanese swords!" Which means a lot to most non-nerds, I'm sure.

True, a lot of the Nichirin-to don't include visible pegs in their design, which you could argue is just because they are covered up with other wrappings on the handles. But realism really isn't a concern since Sanemi and Shinobu would probably constantly stabbing themselves with those tsuba.

So anyway!! The tsuba! The handguards and what they say about the characters is a very, very nice touch, and I love wondering if the swordsmiths designed those fully based on their own imaginations and perhaps what crows told them about the kids (like "he was a charcoal farmer" or "he's a Rengoku") or if the swordsmen got any chance to put in their own requests on the regular ("I was a charcoal farmer, I don't know what to ask for" or "Sabito had one like this"). It's also fun to see the creativity involved in creating the scabbards for unique swords like Shinobu's and Iguro's.

But we can do so much mooooore!

I love the simplicity of the Nichirin-to. They are elegant and purposeful, with engravings being earned and standardized. But they are also beautiful, and the general idea must be "if those swordsmen are putting their lives on the line, we will give them powerful tools, but they might as well get to enjoy something decorative for the rest of their likely short life." The menuki would have been such an opportunity for this, though the details would be hard to spot in both anime and manga format. So instead I just want to ponder the possibilities.

Shinobu:

I was very inspired by all the metal inlay bugs and the butterfly motifs I saw today. I love the elegant engraving on the scabbard, and that her tsuba takes part of the traditional Shippou (Seven Treasures) pattern to make a vague butterfly shape. But I also saw one today that have a wisteria shaped menuki (and other bug motifs!!). But also, knowing her, she might be pleased to have a decorative little fish tucked behind the cords.

Sanemi:

I LOVE THE VIOLENT PINWHEEL. What a whimsical way to express wind! Speaking of bugs, why not give him a rhinoceros beetle, symbolic of fighting spirit? After all, I even saw realistic little snail ones today, anything goes. And while we're thinking wind--

Rengoku:

Wind chime??? Even the balloon flower pattern like was on the wind chime in that scene makes a lovely metal engraving pattern on other mountings on the scabbard. Totally unrelated, but today I say a brand of tangerines called "Shiranui" (the same name as the First Form of Flame Breath) for sale at the store, so heck, why not an apricot theme somewhere too? Orrrrrr you can also work with a "heart" theme to compliment all the flames. Oh, speaking of hearts--

Mitsuri:

Mitsuri's tsuba might look like four hearts, but this is actually an uncommon but traditional spin on a cherry blossom motif. Aside from all the possible ways you play with a cherry blossom motif, the traditional "inome" protective pattern is nowadays considered romantic because it looks like an upside-down heart. There's a lot of nice ways of using that shape, like a window in the a tsuba, or in her case, maybe to frame some other pattern used as part of an engraved piece. Speaking of "inome" though--

Inosuke:

"Inome" means "boar's eye," though it looks more like a boar snout. Kanamori could have done all kinds of things with this motif, or even used little boar-shaped menuki! Not that any of those efforts would have mattered.

Iguro:

Clearly the snake theme could be used a lot, but why not be more creative? He's actually a pretty sensitive dude, and my read on him is that he seems to like scenes that imply "purity," partly because he ses himself as so tainted and doesn't dare taint anything pure. Nature motifs like snow, or the elegant snow-moon-flowers triple motif suit his poetic soul nicely, and snakes are considered a water element (makes sense that his Breath stems from Water Breathing), so some water related theme could work too. In this same vein, snakes are generally considered as much as water element as dragons, so giving him a dragon item would also fit just fine with a snake theme.

Himejima:

Hard to think of this one in the same way as the others, but I'm sure there are methods for decorating it. Like, what does he even use as a scabbard? Maybe he has a nice strong brocade or woven cord for wrapping up the chains? There are so many ways you could work in Buddhist themes for him, especially the six characters used to write "Namu Amida Butsu" (but that's already all over his haori). There's gotta be good themes out there (both of Buddhist origin or general Japanese folk and/or poetic culture) to play on the idea of "strength." Oh heck, just give him a little Benkei-related motif, or a motif related to a famous demon slayer of the past.

--ON THAT NOTE--

Wouldn't it be cool if, like there are "Tale of Heike" themed menuki, there were menuki celebrating famous moments in Corp history? Maybe it was suddenly very popular to make menuki of Uzui vs Gyutaro once that momentous battle occurred? Uzui would love that. You could also have more subtle history, like motifs shaped like The Marks, which the swordsmiths have maintained in their traditions without knowing why certain symbols became associated with certain Breaths. If Yoriichi hadn't been disgraced, he probably would have been a common theme too.

Uzui:

ALL THE DECOR, but what about fireworks all over the shiny lacquer? Or the scene in Tale of Genji in which Genji stands in a storm at the beach (a hidden reference to the names of each of Uzui's wives)?

Muichiro:

GINKGO LEAVES, MAN. And the moon because it would be ironic.

Tanjiro:

What if he had a little SUNSHINE on a simple menuki?? Something nice and understated! Or even his fox mask!!! Or--oh, oh, oh---

Giyuu:

WHAT IF THEY HAD MATCHING FOXES

Also, it would be very nice if there was some useful of the waves and clouds pattern on the metal pieces of his scabbard.

Zenitsu:

There's already a lot of lightning and triangle on this sword, and I like how his matches Kaigaku's. I could see this being a situation of Zenitsu getting his sword polished and using the opportunity to ask for any number of cute and auspicious decorations and being flat out told, "no, this is what Thunder Breath swords look like."

Kanao:

Freaking flowers everywhere, but I also saw a crest today that had three butterflies in a circle around a flower, and it was repeated all over the sword, especially the lacquer of the scabbard. Wouldn't that be a cute reference to the sorts of people who inspired her to learn Breath technique and then sneak off to the Final Selection?

Genya:

He has such a very typical straightforward tsuba you'd actually see in real life. You one of the menuki themes I saw today? One one side, it is a "speedy demon" running off with a stolen stupa (which has the relics of Buddha inside), and on the other side, a Buddhist protective deity running after the demon with a sword. WHAT A FUN PAIR. Something like this would be such a cool way to reference his reliance on the Nenbutsu for Repetitive Action, too. But give that deity a glock.

I realize that a lot of this is very casually referencing motifs and hidden cultural details I've referenced elsewhere in various posts throughout this blog. I am far, far too lazy to go link those. Hopefully they're all properly tagged as "KnY Nerdery." Anyway, since you've come this far, here is an obligatory "SWORD BABY" photo because I always like photos when I get to hold tamahagane.

LOOK, A BABY SWORD, ISN'T IT BEAUTIFUL???

[wellthebardsdead]

*The emerald grove devil Au, Papa Bear*

———

Astarion: That form you took on back at the goblin camp was, terrifyingly powerful~ why do you choose to walk around as a mere tiefling when that’s available to you?

Falûne: *tail hugging his leg* Because I don’t feel good in that state. All it’s good for is hurting people…

Astarion: Ugh, all that power and of course a mortal compass always has to spoil the fun. You could be ruling over the entirety of the sword coast with what you have at your finger tips, have everyone bending to your will and yet you’ve just been playing in the dirt and muck with the animals!

Falûne: and I’m all the better off because of it. I’m a devil by blood only and I’ve worked really hard to learn to control my emotions so I won’t hurt anyone with this power.

Astarion: Emotions?…

Falûne: I’m most likely to enter that state when upset… I thought papa was dead or hurt so I just… lost control…

Astarion: Interesting… So all we have to do is upset you and you’ll go off like a loose cannon?

Halsin: *gently tucks Falûne behind him and grabs astarion by his doublet* Whatever ideas you have dancing around what’s left of your tadpole addled brain, I suggest you get them out of your head now.

Astarion: *smiling nervously* A-ah of c-course. I was just m-making an observation.

Halsin: then I suggest you cease your observing before you observe the inside of a bears stomach. *drops him before ushering Lûne away* …I forbid you to have any form of relations with that man.

Falûne: it’s okay papa my eyes are on Gale and Wyll at the moment.

Halsin: Hm, good taste.

[toms-cherry-trees]

Hello Mars!! Congratulations for your 1.5K followers celebration 🎉 I hope you get many many more! 🤗 and more stories!

To celebrate can I request a blurb with this gif?

(Fluff) I love a rare Tommy Shelby smile 😊 😉 ♥️

Congrats once more!! *hype* also could you add me to your Tommy tag list? xx

Tommy smiles are so rare we ought to cherish them 🥺🥺

Also I will add you to the tag list! Thanks for the request darling!

Mars 1.5K Celebration

Laugh || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Hunting, some war PTSD, because fluff with me is never 100% fluff

Raucous laughter booms through the stillness of the forest, mixing in with the cacophony made by the lurking animals who are surely hiding not so far from you, all of them driven off by the heat and light of your bonfire. In the background you hear the gentle gurgle of a nearby stream from where you obtained water for the mint tea now warming your hands and your belly. You are swathed in an old woollen blanket of dark green hues, already frayed and thinned out by time. Tommy sits across from you on a log, cigarette hanging from his lips as he entertains you with stories of his childhood, enacting the best parts for you with dramatic motions of his hands. 

“And how much did you pay John to eat a pound of raw onions?” You inquire once more, half of the story having been lost between your laughs.

“Not enough for the stomach ache he got. His breath reeked for days” Tommy’s laugh is such a rare occurrence you have forgotten how beautiful it is. Deep and throaty, shaking his shoulders and pulling his lips into a grin. His eyes shine brighter and his features soften, jaw no longer clenched tight and brow relaxed. The only thing that remains of the old Tommy, the only part of himself not tainted and poisoned is his laugh. And you cherish every little instance you get to hear it.

When Tommy said you two were going out to camp, you thought he had lost his mind. Sure, camping out had been a big part of your youth but now, both in your 30s, three children and a lot of responsibilities under your wing, the idea seemed derisory. Yet you didn’t regret one bit coming out with him into the forest, still safely within the lands surrounding Arrow House. You knew if you had allowed, he would have taken you out on the road to God knows where, but you felt safer close to the house and your kids.

“What do you think the other MPs would say if they saw you, mighty Tommy Shelby OBE, with mud up to your knees and gathering twigs to light a fire?”

Tommy flicks his cigarette stub into the fire and comes to sit next to you, his strong arm circling your shoulders “I am sure my fellow MPs would be very appreciative of my extensive efforts to understand better the lives of the common people”

“Because surely the common people of South Birmingham sleep in vardos under the stars and hunt rabbits for supper” A teasing smile tugs at your lips, leaning your head back on his shoulder so you can observe his features. His cheeks are flushed from cold, despite the warmth of your body and the flames, and his breath comes out in faint puffs of mist. You press your tin mug into his hands, noticing the way he stretches his stiffened fingers. Silence has befallen you, and for long minutes you two dwell on the moment, the embrace, and the so welcomed break of the routine. 

“It’s been ten years” He whispers quietly, swirling the drink in his hand before taking a sip

“I know” Is the only reply that you can muster, instinctively scooting closer to his frame until your head is tucked under his jaw, his hand laced with yours and you tracing circles on the back with your thumb. He inhales deeply the scent of your hair, chin perched on top of your hair. Physically he is hugging you, but his brain is in a far away land. 

Ten years. A whole decade. The anniversary of the day he returned home from France, beaten and bruised and underfed and scared, even if he would never admit it. Even if your affection and devotion had nursed the physical damage, some wounds could never be treated nor healed, and remained gaping and bleeding in a place only he could reach. A place that only belonged to him, and of which you were only allowed frightful glimpses every time his demeanour broke into fits of unbridled rage, or when he would awake you in the dead of the night, fingers clinging to your nightgown and feverish kisses to your skin because they are there, the Germans are coming, the shovels are on the wall and you are the only anchor he has to steady himself against the storm brewing inside his brain. 

“Sometimes I wonder if-”

“No. Don’t wonder. It is all in the past and it no longer matters” You are quick to interrupt him, knowing where his thoughts are heading. Never before you thought you would hear terms such as shell shock or survivor’s guilt, but once you learned about them, they made perfect sense. When things got dark, Tommy pondered over the what ifs of life. What if he had not returned, and instead another boy had made it home; a boy who did not put his family in danger, a boy who protected his loved ones and did good to others, instead of carrying guns up his sleeve and knives in his heart. Tommy always said boy instead of man; another of his tactics of self-flagellation, derived from all the fresh-faced kids who boarded the train with him, and how little of them made the journey back.

You know you have to pull him out of his trance before he sinks too deep into his black waves, and you can only think of one way how. Your fingers slowly trace patterns above his heart, sliding down in progressively wider circles until you find that ticklish spot between his ribs and dig deep, forcing a startled laughter from his lips. All of a sudden Tommy is on the ground, your weight pinning his legs as you continue your assault, thumbs digging under his ribcage and stealing the breath from his lungs in forced waves of laughter, all of while he struggles to smack your hands away, his body writhing under your and staining his shirt with green from the grass. After several tortuous minutes he manages to grab your wrists in his grasp and pulls both of your hands to a halt, drawing in heavy breaths as the joyous sounds slowly fade away. 

“You are terrible sometimes” He growls, pulling you close by the wrists so your body topples over his, keeping your arms pinned between your bodies as his arms circle your waist. His heartbeat remains frantic and his cheeks are as red as ripe apples. 

“And yet you decided to marry me” Your lips hover inches above his, both of you sporting relaxed smiles. His eyes seem brighter than ever, almost innocent. You see through the vines encircling his soul the traces of the young lad he used to be, peeking out through gentle moments like this. 

“Terrible decision on my behalf”

“Terrible indeed” You mock, a soft laugh escaping you as you wiggle free from his grasp enough to accommodate yourself so you are straddling his abdomen, knees on either side of him. His hands naturally rest on the curve of your hip to keep you steady, features brimming with adoration for the wife that keeps him grounded and steady. Without you he would be like a boat without moorings, drifting into the abysm. 

You lean in for a kiss tantalisingly slow, while Tommy lifts his torso to meet you halfway. Right before your lips touch, your fingers are back on his ribs, stealing laughs from his throat and flutters from his heart. 

[drunkewok]

Tiger Inside Chapter Thirty-Three

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 3k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons

Please do not copy or repost my work

“I just don’t get it.” My eyes focused on every subtle dip and bump of Changbin's ceiling, my head resting back on his thigh as my hands waved frustratingly through the air. “I didn’t see any sign of Ateez anywhere.”

Changbin hummed as he mindlessly stared at the wall, body propped up against his headboard with his hands tucked behind his head.

“You said they mentioned the peppermint? How would they have known about that?”

“Fuck I don’t know.” I rubbed my hands across my face, my brain enveloped by a hazy fog, fighting off the sleep deprivation. My mind had been running eighty miles an hour the entire night, unable to catch a single moment of shut-eye in the pursuit of sleep. “They must have been close enough to see that I had the peppermint sticking out of my cup, or near us when we ordered them or something.”

“And you asked both Felix and Jeongin about this?”

“Of course! I told you, they didn’t see anything. It’s just not making any sense.” Contemplative silence fell back over the room as we thought of every possibility, the same questions replaying over and over and over in my head as I struggled to break the pattern of thought. I bolted upright, turning around to face Changbin as he stared back with startled wide eyes as I nudged him in the arm.

“What if my phone was bugged!? Maybe they weren’t even near us at all! They could have just been listening in and this is nothing more than a scare tactic!” 

“As much as I’d love to believe that’s the case, it feels a little bit like wishful thinking.” He readjusted his position, sitting up a bit more straight. “I still think you need to talk to Chan about this, I know you don’t want to but he needs to know if there’s a possibility that Ateez was trailing you guys. Like how did they know you were even there in the first place?”

“It'd make sense they'd know if I was bugged.” I turned back mumbling, draping my legs over the edge of the bed, and focused on my feet dangling. “It's not like they're staked out in front of the house, and they definitely can't be everywhere at once.”

“Please, just go talk to him. He might have a further idea that we aren’t thinking of”

I knew he was right. I hadn’t slept for a single moment. Of course there would be details that I could be overlooking. Focus pinned on the wrong things and running me around in circles without any conclusion. I hadn’t wanted to wind up here, but I had found myself pacing my room endlessly repeating the conversation with Changbin in my mind trying to hype myself up for what was to come.

I found myself anxiously standing before Chan’s office door, biting my lip as I tried to plan out our conversation in my head. We had still yet to truly speak since the incident at Blossom, and the thought of standing before him rubbed salt deep into the wound that was inflicted that night, that I was trying so hard to ignore. I finally knocked on the door, Chan’s muffled come in behind the wood ushering me inside. 

“What's up?” His nose was buried deep in the papers he was flipping through, not looking up as he scribbled something onto one of the corners. 

“Chan.” I don't know why my voice could barely speak above a whisper, mentally smacking myself because of my timid state. 

His head shot up from his papers, dropping them onto his desk as the smallest of smiles tried to creep its way onto the corners of his mouth.

“Y/n…” He stood, quickly rounding his desk and approaching me. But stopping short to not get too close and seem too eager, as if I were an animal he was scared of startling. 

“What-” he cleared his throat, trying to center himself and settling his shirt down as he picked up on my more solemn state. “What can I do for you?” 

I pulled my phone from my pocket, clicking on the unknown sender's messages, and handed it over to him. He stared down at the screen, face slowly contorting into confusion as his gaze returned to me.

“What's this?” 

“Last night.” My voice dropped, almost embarrassed to admit what happened. “I think we were followed when we went to the market.” 

“Followed?” He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, turning back towards his desk and motioning to one of the seats in front of it. “Go ahead and sit.” 

I followed behind him, quietly settling into the seat and tucking my hands into my lap, my stomach feeling as though it was doing somersaults.

“So I think the obvious question to ask here is, do you know who?” I shook my head sheepishly, already regretting that I was unable to bring him more information. 

“I've been stewing over it all night, I don't think it was Ateez though. I feel like I would have noticed them.” 

“And I'm assuming there was no one that stood out to you as suspicious?”

“No… I'm so sorry I can't give you more, I've seriously been tossing and turning all night. Felix and Jeongin don't recall anything either.” 

“No no, it's okay.” He waved off my apology before rubbing his fingers into his eyes. “The peppermint, what is that referring to?”

“I had a peppermint hot chocolate, that has to be what that's about and….” Chan stared at me confused as my eyes grew wide and I leaned forward, placing my face in my hands. “Oh my god the hot chocolate, Chan I'm such an idiot.”

“Okay no, you're not an idiot, I just need you to catch me up to wherever you just jumped to.”

“The fucking hot chocolate! A woman came up to me and Jeongin while we were watching Felix play a game! She asked where we got the hot chocolate and I told her to try the peppermint!” With a huff of frustration, I leaned back into the chair, letting my head fall back as I stared at the ceiling. “How did I only just now realize this!?”

“A woman? What did she look like?” 

I closed my eyes, desperately trying to reimagine her face.

“I can't remember much, it was such a brief interaction. Long, black hair? Bangs? I'd say probably like… Mid-twenties?” 

“Well, that sure narrows it down.”

“It was just so quick. She was there, then she was gone.” I sat up, my hands falling back into my lap. “It was such a mundane interaction, it’s not like I immediately thought to start taking notes on her appearance.”

I watched as Chan settled his elbow on his armrest, his hand supporting his chin as his face contorted into deep contemplation. Neither of us spoke, both falling into thought as we started to put together the pieces we had.

“So… Do we tell Jiho?” I slightly adjusted in my seat as I broke the silence, the realization that there might be an uncomfortable conversation to follow just now hitting me.

“Considering this is probably linked to Ateez, I don't think we should.” He rubbed his fingers against his chin. “As far as he knows, we've abandoned looking into them. And he’s not happy about what happened at Blossom, I’ve been on the wrong end of his anger during a few phone calls.”

“Oh, he knows?”

“Of course he knows.” Chan let out a humored scoff, “I hate to say it bluntly, but a building burned down and he had to work with the police to cover up a death. We put a lot on his plate that night.” 

“Right… I guess I hadn’t thought about that.” I hung my head slightly as the thought of that night flashed through my mind, gripping Seongho being permanently etched deep into my brain.

“Y/n-” I looked up to Chan. He was now leaning forward toward me, a solemn expression painted on his face. “I know this feels like an empty apology, because there's no forgiving what I did, but if I could change what happened that night I would in a heartbeat and-”

Taking a slow deep breath, I centered myself. Settling my racing heart as it was finally time to address the elephant in the room.

“I spent ages locked in my room, and it gave me more than enough time to think.” I cut him off, by this point feeling like he had no reason to apologize for his actions. “Deep down I knew you had to. I know how deaths have to be handled. I just didn't want to accept it. Does it make it easier? Of course not. But if Seongho saw me continuing to let this put my life on pause, and prevent me from figuring this shit out he'd kick my ass.” 

I let out a chuckle, giving a pained smile as I looked down at my hands fumbling in my lap. Taking another deep breath, I looked back up to him, trying to muster up the strength to continue. 

“It had to happen this way. At least this makes it so his family got to know, They got closure. If we brought him with us they would think he vanished into thin air. This was for the better.” 

A robbery gone painfully awry. The articles had been posted shortly after Jiho slipped bribe money into the hands of the police, our Father's connections with authority benefitting us even long after his death.

At least Seongho was able to return to his family one last time before they properly honored him in his final resting place below a marked grave.

Chan looked as though he was fighting off his emotions as we held a painful stare before he stood and rounded his desk, opening his arms wide to me. 

I stood, letting him wrap me in a tight embrace that felt like he may never let go. His chest rose and lowered with each slow, deep breath, holding me close.

We let ourselves stand there in comfortable silence, his grip on me tightening as tears unknowingly made their way down my cheeks. 

“I'm so, so sorry y/n.” He spoke up barely above a whisper.

“You stop that.” I pulled back from him, composing myself and wiping the moisture from my face, giving him a gentle pat on the chest. “I forgive you, so how about you forgive yourself now.”

“And Minho?”

“What about him?” I let out a scoff with a forced, fake smile, turning to the windows in an unconscious attempt to avoid looking him in the eyes at the sudden topic change.

“Do you forgive him?” Chan’s voice was gentle, his words feeling more like a suggestion than a question.

“There's no reason to. I'm not mad at him.” I shrugged, trying to play off the comment nonchalantly. Chan let out a humored puff of air, the smallest disbelieving, fake smile on his face.

“That didn’t seem to be the case when you stomped in here demanding to work separately from him.”

“He was holding me back.” I turned around, retrieving my phone from Chan’s desk. “It had nothing to do with that night.” I crossed to the door, trying to make a quick exit away from the diverting topic.  

“You know, I think the two of you still have a lot to learn from each other. ” I turned back to see Chan rounding his desk, hand grazing across the top before sinking into his seat. “Perhaps you could give you and him another chance?”

“I’ll let you know if any more texts come through.” My voice was flat as I turned to pull the door open, hardly giving Chan a nod, and slipping into the hall.

Click click

Everything had happened so quickly, blinded by the market lights and muffled by the sounds of the crowd.

“I’m so sorry to ask, but where did you get those?”My eyes narrowed, vision unfocused as I tried to recall my memory of the woman’s face as she had stood before me. No features stood out, a passerby that could have blended into the crowd with no attention brought to her.

Click click

She had wanted me to see her, to know of her presence. Why else would she have stepped forward and spoken to us? I had been too oblivious to her trailing us as I let myself get carried away in the night, so she had felt the need to approach. And when I was still too clueless, she continued with the texts. But how did she even have my number in the first place?

Click click

Time had started to vanish from me as I sat planted on the couch, eyes glazed over as my vision of the wall blurred. There was clearly something I was missing, some hint, some clue that would have been right under my nose the entire night.

Click click

A hand wrapped tightly around my fist, pulling me from my thoughts as my eyes came into focus on the feet before me. Slowly glancing up, I look at my hand held in place, then up to the irritated eyes of Minho standing above and staring me down.

“Quit it.” His other hand reached across, pulling the pen from the grip of my restrained hand and pocketing it, before turning on his heels and returning to the kitchen.

So deep into my thoughts, I hadn't even realized his presence on the other side of the room, or the consistent clicking that my thumb had been causing on the tip of my pen with each racing thought.

“Excuse me! I was using that!” I hopped up from my seat, promptly following behind him in protest.

He blissfully ignored me, eyes focused on the pot of ramen before him as he stirred its contents.

“Minho!” I tried to reach around to slip my hand into the pocket of his hoodie in an attempt to retrieve the pen, his hand quickly swatting me away.

“Stop that.” His snap was sharp, like he was scolding a disobedient cat for clawing at the furniture. Still refusing to look at me. 

“Stop being a prick and give me my damn pen.”

He quickly turned on his heels, our faces just inches apart and his stoic expression unreadable. I sucked in a breath of air, promptly holding it in my lungs as his eyes bore into mine within a tense silence that felt hours long. 

“You're in the way.” He spoke monotonically, head slightly cocking to the side as his arm reached up right beside my head. He grabbed a seasoning from the open shelf, turning back to the pot unphased.

I watched as he silently grabbed his bowl from the side, filling it until he was content, and turned to fish utensils from the drawer.

“I made too much. Eat it.” His head slightly turned in my direction. “You get cranky when you're hungry.” Without another glance, he started his way toward the hall.

“I don’t have to do as you say, you know.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged, stopping in his tracks and turning back to me. “Then it goes to waste.”

“Hey! Don't leave until you give my pen back!” 

He froze for a moment, brows furrowing like he was deep in thought. His head slowly rose with a smirk, giving another nonchalant shrug.

“Ask nicely.” 

“Oh fuck off.” I spit back. 

“That's what I've been trying to do, Dear!” He called out in a sing-song tune as he left, the softest giggle coming from the distance. 

With a huff and a mental foot stomp to the floor, I turned back to the unattended pot on the stove, just enough ramen for a secondary serving.

“You get cranky when you’re hungry” I mocked in a mumble, but still reluctantly grabbing myself a bowl from the cabinet. 

What an absolute twat. Once again thinking he’s so high and mighty, confiscating my pen from me. He’s lucky that I am just now realizing that I had indeed not fed myself today, or this would surely go to waste out of pure spite. 

I settled myself back onto the couch in silence, letting my mindless focus now go into my bowl of noodles instead of the incessant clicking of a pen. With a sip of broth, I hummed, the realization of hunger promptly hitting me with the first bite.

He’s also lucky that I missed his cooking.

I quickly scolded myself at the immediate thought. This is spite ramen, no matter how good his cooking is. 

It hadn’t taken me long to devour the bowl, the warm broth causing the drowsiness to finally hit me. I set the bowl on the coffee table, grabbing the remote, and deciding to watch just one episode before heading to bed. My head fell on a decorative pillow as I stretched out on the couch, not taking in much of the show as it began to play. 

I slowly started to stir, one eye-opening while the other stayed squeezed firmly shut to fight off the morning light. Feeling a bit disoriented as I sat up, I realized I must have fallen asleep on the couch last night. Dozing off before I had the chance to pull myself to bed. 

I attempted to stretch my arms and back, feeling tense from the night's sleep on the cushions. The TV had been shut off during the night, leaving the room silent. As I swung my legs over the side, settling my feet on the floor, I realized I'd been kept warm by an unfamiliar blanket. One that I most definitely hadn't fetched for myself and I made the safe assumption one of the boys had probably laid it across me in my sleep. 

I reached for my phone to check the time, quickly seeing that it had died during the night and was of no use. My bowl from dinner had vanished, but my eyes focused on my journal sitting where it once was, and the pen that was being returned to me sitting atop it, Chan’s voice softly replaying in my mind. 

“You know, I think the two of you still have a lot to learn from each other. ” 

“Perhaps you could give you and him another chance?”

Next Chapter

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