#you know what that entails if you've been here a while

[goodfish-bowl]

Bunker in White

Danny Phantom x Supernatural Crossover

Masterpost

DP Crossover Angst Week Day 1 - GIW Experimentation

Summary: Sam and Dean take up a job to go investigate a government base that had been attacked by vampires.

Warnings: vague descriptions of blood and gore

Notes: hmmm, I have never written anything for Supernatural before, but I've seen a good portion of it (years ago). Probably takes place earlier in the show.

Word Count: 2044

AO3 Link

Sam and Dean had gotten this particular lead from Bobby, who in turn got it passed onto him from someone else, so it wasn’t a surprise this particular job was a mess. 

Apparently, a group of vampire’s had decided a weird, underground, government bunker would be the perfect hideout, resulting in a bloodbath between the government goons and the vamps. It was a large group too, which was a point of concern among the hunter’s who turned down the job. No one really knew who’d won inside between the vampires and the government, but Dean had placed his money on the vampires. He honestly doubted that some government agency with an obsession for the color white had any idea what they were up against, much less the correct tools for the job. Dean got proved wrong when they came across the first dead vampire. 

The bunker’s fluorescent lights were harsh against the darkness outside. The entire base still seemed to have power despite not being connected to any sort of power grid or system. It had made it an absolute pain in the ass to find, but at least that meant Sam and Dean didn’t have to wander around in the dark. The harsh lighting and bleached interior revealed a slaughter inside, staining the white walls with both vampire and human blood, leaving very little to imagination. The humans, all agents in once-white suits, looked to have been mauled by the vamps, while the dead vampires had holes blasted through them and were covered in green-tinged burns. Dean kicked one, trying to make sure it was actually dead. Yep, dead vamp, the whole place unfortunately smelled like it too. 

Sam had found one of the more physically intact agents with a large bazooka-like weapon next to him at the back of the hallway. Rummaging through the agency's pocket’s Sam tossed the ID card over for Dean to read over, while Sam picked up the weapon. 

Dean flipped open the wallet, and huffed when the agent was only referred to by a letter and position. No personal information whatsoever. 

“This asshole is apparently ‘Agent B, senior heavy weapon specialist of the Ghost Investigation Ward’, which means shit to me,” Dean complained. 

“‘Ghost Investigation Ward’? Is that supposed to be some sort of knockoff hunter’s group? Because points for vampire killing, less points for dying,” Sam added. “Either way, they were messing around with something supernatural, and had weapons that could blast straight through a vampire. Think we could find something here?”

Dean shrugged, “I’m down to take their weapons at the least. New tactics are always appreciated.”

Sam took the bazooka, and Dean picked up any other weapons of interest, from weighted nets, to more guns, storing them in piles to collect and ferry to the car later. The ID got them access to a couple more rooms, including a security camera and file room, which Sam said he was going back to later. The deeper they descended into the base, the more spaced out the bodies were, and the more violently the agents had seemed to fight, like they were protecting something. 

“Do you think they actually managed to catch a ghost here?” Sam tossed out. 

Dean snorted, “Doubt it. Sure, you can blast a hole through a vamp, but you can’t blast a hole through a ghost. Just trapping one is a pain, let alone moving it to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Illinois.” 

Hydraulic doors hissed as the brothers entered the next level, only to pause from the sudden change in pattern. This one opened up into a laboratory, partitioned off by thick glass walls, rather than the collection of offices and storage the upper floors had been.  

Dean’s eyes narrowed at the carnage inside the laboratories. 

“What the hell were they taking apart that bleed fucking green?” Dean cursed.

Dean completely ignored the bodies of who he assumed had been the scientists. There were tons of vials of various liquids, most of them being that same saturated, radioactive green. There were also jars, lots of jars, of what he assumed were the bits and pieces of whatever creature bled green. 

“Doesn’t look like whatever they were dissecting was dead while they were taking apart,” Sam commented, pointing out the restraints on the bloodied autopsy table. 

“Fuck, that’s sick. At least kill whatever you're taking apart first.” 

Dean watched as Sam went over to a stack of papers, filing through them quickly with a grimace on his face.

 “Well, they seem to believe they caught a ghost, at least. They definitely caught something before the vampires wiped them out. The reports refer to it as Subject P-1.”

“Think it’s still here?” Dean asked. 

“Maybe. This report is a few days old, and we know the vampires attacked within that same time frame, so it’s possible that ‘P-1’ is either still here, dead here, or managed to escape in the crossfire,” Sam guessed.

“I suppose we’ll find out. We only got one more level to go.”

Dean left the lab, going down the elevator to the last level. There was nothing there, except for a singular glass cell with what looked like a blast door as its entrance, all shining with some sort of green energy. There seemed to be automated weapons and cameras all pointing at the cell, and Dean considered it a bit extreme. But also down there was the biggest collection of dead vampires they had found so far. 

The weapons in the room had obviously activated for whatever reason, considering the number of vampires with holes blown through them compared to the agents, of which there only seemed to be two, who looked more like they had also been caught in the crossfire of the weapons, rather than becoming vampire food like most of the guys upstairs.  

“Dean…” Sam shoved him, and pointed to the cell. There was…something inside. 

Dean walked over, shoving bodies out of the way with his foot to stand in front of the cell. The green… whatever it was, shone along the glass and hummed with energy, reminding Dean vaguely of an electrified fence. The inside of the cell was a mess but in a different way than outside. It reminded Dean of a few of the cells he had seen monsters hold people in before. It was dirty, and covered in blood, both red and that unknown green. There was no cot, or toilet, or any other sort of accommodation. 

The only thing in the cell was a small figure, dressed in nothing but tattered scrubs, and covered in its own blood balled up in the corner, head between its legs. Dean could only make out pale, emancipated legs and feet, and a mess of matted, black hair. 

“Is it alive?” Dean asked, tapping on the glass, which surprisingly didn’t zapped him.

Sam had a grimace on his face. “I…think.”

“Hey!” Dean shouted. 

No reaction. 

Dean pounded more heavily on the glass with his fist, “Hey! Are you alive?”

No reaction. 

“Are you P-1?” Sam asked instead. 

This got a reaction. The figure picked up their head, placing empty, hollow, and frighteningly blue eyes on Sam. They seemed to be a young boy, face pale and thin, deep bags under his eyes. His eyes were glassy and distant, looking through Sam rather than at him. 

“Well, that’s unnerving,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a look before shoving his shoulder. “Tell him to do something else.”

Sam frowned, thinking for a moment before saying anything. “P-1, state your status,” Sam commanded. 

The boy, P-1, remained silent.

“I don’t think it talks, Sammy,” Dean snorted. 

Sam sputtered indignantly. “What do you want me to do then? We know he’s P-1 now, and that he’s still somehow alive.”

“Well, we know he ain’t human, and that he’s whatever these goons have been picking apart. No clue what he is, but in that state, I doubt he can do much. The lights are one but no one seems to be home, Sammy,” Dean said. 

It was a harsh suggestion but, “We could just put him down and be done with it. The vamps are all dead, there’s nothing here except braindead P-1 over there.”

Sam, apparently, very much disagreed with that idea. “He’s a kid, Dean! And he’s been tortured for who knows how long. We’re not putting him down!”

Dean groaned. “Do you want to take him with us or something?!” Dean asked incredulously. 

Sam was silent, apparently thinking over the idea like it was a legitimate suggestion. 

“No,” Dean immediately denied. “Nope, no way, Sammy. We’re not adopting whatever-the-fuck that kid is. He’s not a dog. We have no idea what he’s capable of, let alone if he’s dangerous!” 

 “Then we keep an eye on him! You said it yourself, in that state, I doubt he can barely move. We could even put him in Bobby’s panic room if he acts up, but honestly,” Sam glanced over to the boy, “I doubt he would even notice.”

Dean hated the idea. He didn’t want the kid to potentially go ballistic, and there had to be some reason he was locked up in the first place. But he couldn’t think of any other reasons to leave the kid there. If anything, they could figure out what the kid was so that they knew how to defeat anything like him in the future. 

“Fine!” Dean relented. “But you’re taking care of him.”

Sam seemed to untense and turned back to the boy. “P-1, move to the door,” he ordered, before more quietly adding, “We’re getting you out of here, kid.”

The boy stood up, swaying on his legs, before approaching the door, standing just outside of it. Dean watched as Sam fidgeted with the door, before eventually having to pull another ID from one of the nearby agents to get the door open. Sam led the kid out, who didn’t have much of a reaction at all. Dean frowned at how small the kid was, now that he could get a better estimate literally standing next to him. He couldn’t be older than 12. 

“Okay, we’re leaving. We got some cool things and you’ve adopted a weird kid. We can confirm the vampires all died here too. Anything else we need to grab before we go back?” Dean huffed. 

“I’m going to see what I can pull from the record room on the way back. Could you take him back to the car?” Sam asked. 

Dean looked at the kid again. Yep. No one home at all. He doubted the kid even knew what was going on. At least he wouldn’t complain about Dean’s music choices. 

“Fine, but you take too long and I’m leaving your ass here,” Dean stated. “Come-on, P-1.”

Dean took the elevator back up the entrance, still careful to check around if they had missed anything still-alive, only to have silence. The kid barely made any noise as he moved, Dean decided he didn’t like that after the third time he jumped at the kid standing directly behind him. 

“I’m getting you a bell,” he grumbled. 

Back at the car, Dean tossed his looted weapons into the trunk, glancing at the kid before rummaging into his and Sam’s duffles for some spare clothes. It looked really suspicious to have a bloodied kid in a medical gown walking around. It would be oversized, but Dean grabbed a flannel, jeans, and a belt. Bobby would probably have something from when he and Sam were that small. 

“Hey, kid, P-1, put these on,” Dean held the clothes out to the kid, who didn’t react. 

Dean groaned. “Oh come on! This is why Sam’s your caretaker. I don’t know how to dress a kid!” 

Dean approached. “Gotta fucking command him like a dog,” he muttered. “P-1, arms up.”

The boy raised his arms, and Dean untied the medical gown letting it fall to the ground. Dean froze, bile building in the back of his throat, fighting the urge to throw up. Images of the jars and vials passed behind his eyes. No wonder the kid was mentally gone, Dean couldn’t see anyone surviving, let alone living long enough to walk out.

God, they needed to get the kid to Bobby. 

[prismkith]

may I ask for a oneshot with jinx like introducing her girlfriend, fem!reader to vander/warwick? and for a while he's like just sniffing and eyeing her suspiciously or whatever until he sees her and jinx in a super like intimate and sincerely loving moment?

also! may I be 🫀 anon? :3

Hi! Yes you absolutely may! i loved this request, and I hope you love what I wrote based off of it!

'How I met your grandfather'

pairing: Jinx X Fem!Reader

genre: fluff, maybe a hint of hurt/comfort

Wc: 2835

You sigh as you enter Jinx’s hideout, shoulders sore and the bags under your eyes growing heavier and heavier. You'd been out with Sevika keeping the lanes in check after the Stillwater breakout, and it was tireless. Enforces had been down your throats the entire time, and balancing keeping the enforcers from beating angry zaunites while also wanting to beat the shit out of them yourself had taken its toll. 

The lanes have been a never-ending job since Silco died. 

You felt horrible for leaving jinx alone after the attack, but she understood. You worked for Silco when he was here, and now sevika. She knew what your job entailed and was used to you being gone for days at a time. 

Stepping onto the still wings of the fan, you were confused by the noise or lack thereof. Her hideout was never quiet, always the sound of her tinkering, or having dance parties and bug-boxing matches mixed with Ishas giggles. 

“I’m home! Anybody here?” you call out into the air. The only response is the echo of your own voice. “Isha? Jinx?” you call out once more. Confused, you walk up to her workstation, cluttered and disorganized as always. You're met with a note on her desk, your name in her distinctive scribbly handwriting on the front page. 

‘Hey trinket, we found Vander. Took him to some mystery healer on the edge of Zaun. Meet us there if we aren't back before you.

Love ya’ 

Your eyes widen as you scan the letter once more, her lack of detail slightly worrying. Questions flooded your brain as you flipped her vague note to find directions on the back. 

Scurrying to get your things together as quickly as possible, you take off in the direction of this ‘mystery healer’, your heavy boots loud as you run to find your girlfriend and her back from the dead dad

________________________________________________________________________

You're slightly panting as you reach the gates she directed you to, having sprinted half the way there, and jogged the other half. Pausing for a moment as you catch your breath, you make eye contact with a man standing in front of the gates. 

His eyes are white, and he's covered in these bubbly pearlescent patterns, donned in the strangest clothes you've seen. You manage to mutter “The fuck…” before he’d beckoning you closer. 

You slowly stand up straighter, distrust evident in your features as you begin to approach him. 

Deciding that you in fact, do not want to open the can of worms that is the freaky-looking man with a blank expression, you attempt to walk straight past him, eyes set on the entrance in front of you, searching for any sign of wild blue hair or large semi robot beast.

You're stopped by Mr. Freaky before you can waltz past, his thin frame swerving in front of you. “I must ask that you turn in any weapons before entering,” he says, an odd cadence in his voice that you've never heard from a zaunite. You scoff at this request, “yeah, no thanks” you reply before attempting to shove past once more. 

You stopped once again, his tone firmer this time. “I must insist, as it is the policy of the Machine Herald”. You consider just socking the guy in the face and making a run for it but decide that you don't know what kind of crazy superpowers this guy might have, and to be quite honest you don't want to find out. 

“Look, not gonna happen. Not sure who this ‘machine herald’ is, but I'm looking for someone else. Just let me pass, i’ll be on my merry way and you can keep doing whatever…. This is” the annoyance shameless drips from your voice now, you have places to be and this guy is single-handedly keeping you from said places. 

He once again denies you access, and you lose your shit. You're now (loudly) in a full-blown argument with this guy, neither of you budging. His voice is only starting to rile you up more, and you're an inch away from executing your hit-and-run plan from earlier when you hear the raspy voice of your lover calling your name. 

You freeze immediately, fist pausing mid-air as your eyes dart behind the man to see Jinx, leaning against the entrance, arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her face. 

“Stand down, sergeant. No beating the greeter.” her voice is sarcastic and teasing, and you sigh in defeat. Arms dropping and face annoyed as you reluctantly hand the man your pistol and several pocket knives that you keep strapped to you in various places. 

Once unarmed, the man simply smiles and steps aside, and you make sure to knock him in the shoulder before stomping over to your girlfriend. 

Your annoyance subsides as you see her smiling face, your arms immediately wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her close. You feel her relax into your embrace, strong arms circling your waist and giving you a good squeeze before pulling back. 

“What the hell is this place, and why did that fish-man never change his facial expression once?” you question your voice laced with confusion and slight concern. 

She simply shrugs her shoulders and turns to start guiding you through the odd community full of tents and more people with white eyes and pearlescent patterns. “Vi said she knew of a healer here in the lanes. Said he was performing some miracles or some magic bullshit.” she spins on her heel to look at you while continuing to walk backward. “Personally I think he's just some weird purple fortune teller, but Vi trusts him and Vanders actually getting better, so..” her voice softens during the last part of her sentence, voice trailing off as her eyes cast slightly downward. 

You pause in your tracks, shock evident on your features. “Wait, Vi’s here?” not even attempting to hide the surprise in your voice at the mention of her estranged sister. 

She sighs, once again avoiding eye contact. “Yeah, I mean, it's her dad too. Didn't feel right not letting her know that he's alive, at least.” you slowly nod as you come to terms with her reasoning. 

“Anywho! Now we're here at this weird commune run by a metal fortune cookie that can read minds and I dead honestly think this place is a cult. Everyone here is weird. And the only good food is the fruit. The only snacks are trail mix and it's all eighty percent raisins,” her lip curls in disgust, shaking her head slightly before continuing. “I fucking hate raisins. Just give me a grape, I don't want its juiceless corpse as an alternative.” 

You snort at her wording, but can't help yourself agreeing. Raisins suck and it's a crime to ruin perfectly good snacks with them. 

You continue to follow her, passing tents all full of people dressed similarly to the first man you met. Some were in tents that looked more like workshops, cooking, and sewing, and some in tents that looked more like homes, full of pillows and blankets and small furniture pieces. 

She continues to ramble about this place, she mentions that Isha is off in a tent somewhere helping a group of women weave a blanket (boring),  how the healer (who you figured out is the machine herald from earlier) somehow knew her childhood name, and how Vi had turned into some emo looking alcoholic and lost another fight to jinx in an underground tunnel. 

Finally, her walking begins to slow as you both reach a greenhouse near the middle of the village. It's a dome made of detailed stained glass, and you can vaguely make out the shape of the massive frame of Vander inside. You spot Vi sitting on the edge of what seems to be a water well, and Jinx’s description isn't too off. You make a mental note of the poorly done hair job and vow to make fun of her for it later. 

When Vi looks up and spots you, she sends you a nasty glare before stomping away with an excuse of finding Isha. You roll your eyes, so what if you've tried to kill each other a couple of times? No big deal, honestly. 

Jinx also rolled her eyes and dismissed her sister with a wave of her hand. “She’ll get over it, don't worry. She was just as dramatic when I went to find her.”

She simply crossed her arms, leading you to a bench outside the greenhouse. Once sat, she slumps into your side, shoulder pressing against yours and head leaning against the side of your own. 

“It's weird, you know? It's him, he remembers me and Vi but… he’s also part of this beast he's trapped in. Vi keeps asking for my opinion on… All of this, but I have no clue. I think I'm still in shock from when I realized it was him.” She shakes her head, letting her voice trail off. You sit in silence for a moment, letting her words marinate in your brain. 

You weren't sure how to respond, for Christ's sake, you barely even knew your own parents. What the hell do you say to someone who killed two of her dads, and then found out the first one is actually alive but trapped in the body of a hostile science experiment? 

Deciding that there was nobody on the planet who could find the words to comfort someone in this situation, you simply grab her hand instead and allow her to rest against you. She knew what your body language meant when words failed you. She always did. 

You sat like that for a while, enjoying each other's company and the quiet. It wasn't often that there was peaceful silence in Zaun, as silence usually meant danger. You both relished the feeling of letting your guard down for the first time in years. 

Eventually, a man… or.. Robot? You weren't sure, steps out of the greenhouse. His body is a mix of purples and blues, looking like a painted night sky, and he is adorned in a cloak similar to those worn by the others on the commune. He approaches the both of you, still sitting on the bench, an aura of confidence and peace to him. His accent is thick when he finally addresses Jinx. 

“I've decided to end our session today. Your father's condition is improving slowly but I can see him growing tired, and I fear pushing him too far may bear consequences.” he nods his head at you in a greeting as he finishes his sentence, before turning and walking away. 

Jinx grumbles a response, something of a ‘thank you’ mixed with some sarcastic remarks, and you think you hear an ‘aluminum psychic’ mixed in there, but before you can think too hard she grabs your hand pulling you towards the greenhouse. 

You stumble slightly, but follow her as she impatiently hops towards the door. Pushing the large door open, she drops your hand and runs inside. You're met with the smell of fresh plants and herbs as you follow her inside, slowly looking around the room and taking everything in as she runs over and wraps her arms around her father, asking how he's feeling. 

His eyes immediately snap to you, a look of distrust and unease in his eyes as he stares you down. Jinx notices, and slowly steps back from her hug. She keeps her eyes on vander as she backs towards you, grabbing your hand before speaking. 

“Vander, this is my girlfriend.” her voice is soft as she begins to slowly walk towards him, hand still locked in yours. 

Fuck, you were not prepared for the whole “meeting the dad” part of all of this. Sure, you've met one of her dads before, but that's because you worked for him, so the stereotypical introduction wasn't necessary at the time. 

Attempting to calm your nerves and make a good impression, you clear your throat and lift your hand as an offering for a handshake. “Hi- um, hello. Nice to meet you, sir. Big fan of your work. Both the daughter and the, uh, other stuff.” your voice shakes as you attempt a joke to try and relieve some of the tension growing in the small greenhouse. 

Your introduction is met with silence, and then more silence, as Vander just stares at you, occasionally glancing between you and Jinx. 

Finally, your girlfriend decides she's seen enough to rescue the situation, stepping between the two of you before breaking the screaming silence. “Well, this has been wonderful. We’ll let you get some rest for now, though.” she grabs your hand again, speedily leading you out of the greenhouse back into the peaceful village of tents. 

Once outside you feel her drop your hand and pause, looking over to see her with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised, amusement causing the corners of her lips to curl up. “Nice one! Real smooth, babe.” she teases. You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek and resting your hands on your hips. “I don't wanna talk about it.”

_____________________________________________________________

Vander glances around at the smiling faces surrounding him. Sat at a small picnic table outside the greenhouse sat his family. His eldest daughter to his right, and the miniature Powder to his left. A feast of fruits, salads, and roasted vegetables covered the table. A dinner cooked by a group of people on the commune. 

Across from him sat grownup Powder and her… girlfriend.

Vander was already struggling to come to terms with the fact that his daughters were now grown. It felt like no time had passed in his mind, but the years had left their mark on the girls nonetheless, and now he has to come to terms with his youngest daughter being out in the world of romance. His little girl, all grown up and dating women he'd never even met before. 

He continues to stare at the two of you, giggling and talking with the others at the table, shoulders occasionally brushing together. His eyes were weary as he watched you two, despite the fact that Powder seems to trust you with everything, nothing changes his distrust and distaste towards seeing his little girl all grown up. 

He continues this internal battle in his mind, struggling with the growing protectiveness only amplified by the traces of the beast still in his mind. Even the tiny powder trying to get him to eat and offering him water couldn't help distract him from the affection being shown from across the table. 

He could tell you knew he didn't trust you, as every time you made eye contact your eyes would dart away, face casting downwards. 

Eventually, the sun sets, and the conversation at the table begins to slow as the food in front of him is quickly destroyed by the hungry teens accompanying him, miniature powder having fallen asleep against his leg not too long after. 

He watches as Powder begins to grow tired next to you, her eyes drooping and shoulders slowly slouching as she tries to keep herself awake. You notice, and gently nudge her before deciding it's time to call it a night. You stand, and pull Powder up from the bench she's sat on. 

“C'mon, sleepyhead,” you grumble as you turn around and lean over. She turns around and throws herself onto your back, her legs going around your waist as you catch her and lift her until she's snuggly pressed into your back, her head leaning into your neck as her eyes close once more. 

His eyes soften as he watches you make your way to his side of the table to pick up the miniature powder from his lap and lift her to your front, one arm wrapped around her keeping her small frame firmly against your chest, the other arm still hooked under one of Powders knees to keep her balanced against your back. 

The act reminds him of when Powder and Vi were young and would fall asleep on the couch or at the barstools while he cleaned up the bar after a long night. The memories caused a pang in his heart, chest contracting at the memories of when they were young, reminding him of all the years he must have missed. 

As you slowly begin to walk away towards the tent Vi directed them to, he speaks up before you're too far away. 

His gravelly and deep voice calls out behind you, “It was nice meeting you too..” you pause in your steps, turning your head to look at the man behind you to confirm you weren't hearing things. Upon seeing your face, he glances down before continuing, “You seem like a good kid, you're, uh, good for Powder.” 

Your face slowly splits into a grin, simply nodding your head at him once, before turning and continuing your trek into the night. 

Meet the future father-in-law: check. 

____________________________________

A/N: ahhh first one shot let's go! hope you guys enjoy this one :3 luv my girl jinx that's my wife fr

[strvngeweather]

How to Get Rid of Your Virginity; a one shot.

💘PAIRING: badboy!jungkook x theaternerd!reader 💘GENERE: College AU, smut, a little fluff 💘WORD COUNT: 4.6K 💘WARNINGS: Smut, smut, and more smut. 💘SUMMARY: You've always been the good girl who followed the rules but you're ready to shed that image and lose your virginity to the college's resident bad boy: Jungkook. 💘AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apparently, I really got into my feelings with this fic. A bit of sweetness at the end but mostly smut. I hope you enjoy!

Opposites attract – at least, that’s what your best friend, Elena, had told you. She had provided you with solid proof too.

“Just take a look around,” she had said, a cup full of vodka and cherry-flavored juice in her hand, motioning toward the various partygoers. She pointed out an art student cuddled up with a girl who looked like she belonged on the arm of a footballer. “That’s Taehyung. His girlfriend is the ‘All-American Girl’ type and he’s a huge nerd. But they’re in love.”

You nodded. “Okay, they’re the exception.”

She shook her head, taking a long sip, wincing at the burn of the alcohol. “Okay, what about them?” She pointed at Jimin. Jimin was your textbook Type-A worker bee. He was known to avoid large social gatherings like this but here he was, leaning against a wall, his girlfriend in his arms. He kissed her lightly on the neck before grabbing a hearty handful of her ass. “That is our resident party girl cuddled up with our best scholar.”

“He’s a fine scholar,” You admitted, and Elena agreed. “Okay, so what’s your point?”

��My point,” Elena began, taking another long sip. “Are that people from different sides of the track get together all the time. Cheerleader and nerd, party girl, and punctual pupil. Nerdy theater geek and super delicious bad boy.”

You were the nerdy theater geek she had been referencing and the delicious bad boy? That title belonged to Jungkook.

You glanced over at him. He was standing between Taehyung and Jimin, effortlessly chatting the night away. Jungkook had been on your radar ever since you started attending this university two years ago. He was an upperclassman, so you didn’t run into him often but when you did, you savored every second you got to gaze upon him. The man was beautiful. But make no mistake, this was not a crush. You thought he was sexy as hell, but you weren’t into him. You were a future Broadway star and Jungkook? Well, you don’t know what his future entailed but it was starkly different from yours. You were sure of it. There was no way you two would work out romantically.

You wanted him for different reasons. More carnal reasons. You wanted him to take your virginity.

But, while you wanted him, you weren’t sure if he wanted you. You didn’t look like his type – you assumed. But Elena was attempting to convince you otherwise.

“I just don’t think he’d be down for it,” you said with a shrug. “I mean, he’s not into girls like me.”

“He’s a man!” Elena said, her voice raised. You knew that was a sign that the liquor was kicking in for her. “He’s into any girl who wants to bone him! Go over there!”

Elena pushed you toward him, but you stopped, glaring at her. “What would I even say? ‘Hey, Jungkook, wanna fuck?’”

Elena nodded and gave you a blank stare. “That sounded perfect. What’s stopping you?”

You groaned. Of course, Elena would think that’s an acceptable way to approach a man but before you could protest, she was signaling Jungkook to come over. Your eyes widened, a mortifying feeling washing over you.

I could kill her, you thought, I could kill her and bury the body beneath the school’s theater.

Jungkook looked at Elena, a confused look etched across his handsome features. Then, he did the unthinkable. He began to walk over.

He stopped just short of the both of you, the wallflowers for the night, and smiled. “Good evening, ladies, how can I help you?”

Elena nudged you and you opened your mouth to speak but found only your pride, self-respect, and the last shred of confidence falling out of your mouth and onto the floor to be stomped on by a slew of drunken college students. Elena, noticing your mouth open and a dazed look on your face, rolled her eyes and blurted out, “She wants to fuck you.”

This is it, you thought, this is how I die.

But it wasn’t.

Because Jungkook’s eyes raked over you, a hint of lust clouding behind them, and smiled. “Oh, really?”

You nodded, fear and excitement striking into your heart.

Elena continued, “She’s been waiting to make a move all night, but she’s been too afraid to.”

Jungkook looked at you. “Consent is sexy, so I have to hear it from your mouth.”

You swallowed thickly, slowly nodding. “She’s not, I mean, I’m not –” You stopped, taking a deep breath. “Yes. Coitus is something I’d like to experience with you – I mean, if you’re up for it.”

He held out his hand. “Well, let’s go experience it.”

“Right now?”

“Why not?”

You looked between him and Elena searching for a reason as to why now wasn’t a good time to get your back blown out, but you couldn’t find one. Not a good one, anyway. So, you put on a brave face, took his hand, and let him lead you upstairs and into the nearest empty bedroom.

You didn't know who this bedroom belonged to as it had no signs of life. A basic dark wood dresser hugged the right wall, a few sports posters lined the walls and a simple full-sized bed with white and blue bedding sat in the middle of the floor. Jungkook took a seat on the bed, and you sat next to him, unable to meet his eye.

“Come here,” he said, cupping your face and drawing you forward.

He wanted a kiss, so you followed his lead, but your nose bumped into his. “I’m so sorry!” You said in a panicked voice. “I – I didn’t mean for –”

“It’s okay,” he said through a small laugh. Another attempt at a kiss was made but instead of bumping noses, you bumped foreheads. He rubbed his forehead, scrunching up his face. “Maybe we skip kissing,” he said, standing up. “How about this instead?” He began to climb on top of you. You readjusted yourself, hoping to make things flow more smoothly but you ended up kneeing him in the stomach.

“Fuck, I am so sorry!” You said as you watched him grit his teeth.

“It’s okay,” he said once again and rounded the other side of the bed. He took a seat and laid back. “Why don’t you come lay beside me?”

You nodded. You got up and laid down next to him.

“Why don’t you lead?” Jungkook suggested and you silently agreed that that might be for the best.

You began to get up but found your elbow stabbing him in the chest.

This was going horribly.

“Are you sure you want to have sex?” Jungkook asked.

“I do,” you said quietly, biting your lip. “I’m just really nervous.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you. “Why are you nervous?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, avoiding his gaze. How do you tell one of the hottest guys on campus that you’re a virgin? A lonely loser virgin?

“If it’s me, then there’s nothing to be nervous about,” Jungkook said. “I’m not as experienced as everyone says I am. I mean, I have had sex with quite a few people – all safe and consensual of course – but I’m nothing like the lothario people say I am. I mean, I’m just –”

You cut him off. “I’m nervous because I’m a virgin.”

The room went quiet. Too quiet. Embarrassingly quiet. If there was a God, he would have taken mercy on you and allowed the world to swallow you at this exact moment. But no, mercy did not shine a light on you this day.

“And you wanted me to take your virginity?”

He seemed more surprised that you had chosen him as your virginity taker than the fact that you were still a virgin. Regardless, you nodded. “Yeah, I figured if I was going to lose it, I might as well lose it to someone hot.”

His cheeks flashed a crimson color. “Don’t you want your first time to be special?”

You scoffed. “First off, virginity is just a construct and secondly, it would have been special no matter what because it’s my first time and I was in control. Besides, I’ve got a bucket list to finish this year.”

Jungkook looked at you. “Oh yeah? What else is on your list?”

“Smoking weed. I’ve never been high before.”

And just like that, Jungkook produced a blunt out of his back pocket. “You’re in luck. Listen, I don’t think the sex thing is going to happen tonight, but I can smoke you out.”

You felt relief wash over you. There was still hope. He said it wouldn’t happen tonight not that it wouldn’t happen ever – hey, it may have been delulu but you were going to take it and ride off with it into the sun. You watched closely as Jungkook lit the blunt, taking a few deep inhales, holding it in, and then exhaling, coughing along the way. Your first few attempts at smoking the joint were failures but after the third try, you got the hang of it. You also coughed a lung out but the serene feeling that flowed through you a few moments later was worth it.

The blunt had been reduced to a roach and you and Jungkook were lying on the bed, laughing and talking about everything under the sun. You learned he was a film major and planned on moving to Los Angeles after graduation to pursue a career out there. When you told him you wanted to be the next Audra McDonald, he didn’t laugh or tease you like so many others had before. He thought your love of theater was cool and asked you a million questions about it. He found it impressive that you could hold such high notes while doing intricate choreography. Finally, a silence settled over the two of you as the green forced you both into an extreme high.

“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook’s voice was like molasses, thick and slow. Or maybe you were just so damn high that’s how you heard it.

“Mhm,” you hummed.

“What’s the farthest you’ve gone?”

“Like traveling?”

He shook his head. “No, I mean … with sex.”

“Oh,” you replied. “Um, I’ve jerked a guy off before.”

“Have you …” he began but trailed off. He turned his head to look at you, attempting to gauge your reaction. “Ever received oral?”

You shook your head. “Nah.”

“You want to?”

You froze, and a sobering feeling hit you like a pillow full of soap. The idea of getting your coochie licked sounded damn good right now, especially with the weed in your system. “Yeah, I mean, I guess I’d like to try it one day.”

“How about today?”

You could still feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. Well, shit. You had already crossed one item off your bucket list. Might as well cross another. So, you said, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Within seconds, Jungkook was between your legs, lifting your pleated skirt to your hips and sliding your baby pink panties down. Your body froze as you felt a finger slide in between your slits. “A virgin who shaves,” you heard him muse, mostly to himself. A thumb began rubbing your clit and a gasp escaped your throat. Before you could say something else, his tongue was on your lips. Your … other lips. It darted out, parting your lips and flicking against your clit in a feverish way.

Your back arched in response and you felt as if all the air in your lungs had left your body. You found your hands gripping the white sheets as he buried his face deeper between your legs, his tongue sliding in and out of your hole before traveling up and down your slit and finally focusing back on your clit. The sensation became a little too much and you squirmed away, hoping to ease some of the intensity but that only made things worse. Jungkook wrapped his hands around your thick thighs, pulling you closer, spread your legs apart further, and kept his hands gripped on your thighs, ensuring you wouldn’t be going too far. “Don’t run from it,” you heard him whisper.

You’re not sure how long he was at it but by the time your world turned white, you were making noises only a dog could hear.

. . . . .

It wasn’t in your nature to willingly be a third wheel, but the town’s annual spring fair was here and there was no way you were going to miss it. Even if Elena insisted on bringing her boyfriend, Felix. The night wasn’t all bad though. You had spotted Jungkook hanging with a few of his friends and the two of you waved at each other. It had been three weeks since the party and the two of you had kept in contact, texting each other funny memes here and there, sometimes talking on the phone late into the night but nothing more, nothing less.

As the three of you waited in line for the Ferris wheel, you noticed that the ride only allowed pairs. That took care of Elena and Felix but what about you?

“Can you believe that? Since when has the Ferris wheel been limited to two people at a time?” You turned around to face your best friend, but she wasn’t listening. She was too busy using her tongue to excavate Felix’s mouth. You groaned. “Of course, you two would choose now to suck face.”

The line moved forward, and it was your turn to get on. The ride operator gave you a pitiful look. “You got a partner?” He asked but he knew the answer to that. Just as you were about to step out of line to die of embarrassment in a dark and quiet place, your knight in shining armor appeared.

“I’m her partner.”

Jungkook. Sweet, sweet, Jungkook. Sweet, delicious, Jungkook who smelled like heaven and was wearing a red button-up shirt that showed off all his muscles. What? Sue you for noticing!

Jungkook held out his hand and you took it, the two of you loading on the ride and strapping in. Elena smirked at you as the ride began. The ride slowly lifted you and Jungkook up a few feet and then paused, allowing Elena and Felix to board.

“Thanks for saving the day,” you said with a smile. “The Ferris wheel is my favorite ride.”

“No shit, mine too,” Jungkook replied.

Your eyes brightened. “Really? You don’t seem like the type.”

“What type do I seem like?”

“A coaster man.”

“I like coasters too,” he admitted. “But something about the Ferris wheel just calms me, you know?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I get that.”

“So, how’s your bucket list going? Cross off anything else?” Jungkook asked as the Ferris wheel began moving again and then paused, allowing another couple on.

“I have,” you told him excitedly. “Elena and I went skinny dipping two days ago.”

“Damn, I’m sad I missed that one,” Jungkook said with a cheeky smile. “Still a virgin?”

“Still a virgin.”

Jungkook looked at you, his eyes falling to your exposed legs. You were wearing a plaid overall dress and a long-sleeved white shirt underneath. You wondered for a moment if he was judging your fashion choices until he licked his lips and you saw the lust clouding his eyes. “Ever been fingered?”

You shrugged; a sheepish smile found its way to your face. “Only when you ate me out that one time.”

“But never in public?”

“Of course not.”

He looked at you, his eyes begging for permission and as the Ferris wheel began moving again, forcing you and Jungkook to the top, his hands found their way between your thighs. He rubbed your core through your panties. You felt him lean over, his lips brushing against your neck before peppering kisses across your chin. You couldn’t help but giggle as he pushed your panties to the side, and you felt two fingers slide up and down your already-wet slit.

You felt your heart beating faster in his chest when he slid a finger inside and used his thumb to rub circles on your clit. The sensation was quickly becoming too much for you. Especially in public of all places. But as the Ferris wheel worked its way down, you were as well. Your orgasm slowly washed away as the ride finally came to a stop, allowing you and Jungkook to get off.

“Thanks for the ride,” you told him and in response, he kissed your cheek and made his way back to his friends.

…

It was official: You and Jungkook were friends. Like actual friends. You talked to him just as much as you talked to Elena, if not more. You had met his friends and his friend’s girlfriends. You spent time at his apartment. He smoked you out at least once a week and the last time the two of you decided to go on an impromptu diner trip, the waitress mistook you for a couple.

That’s why it wasn’t a surprise when he accompanied you to the library today. You both had papers due and decided to study together. However, you found that the two of you didn’t get much studying done and instead spent most of your time together making jokes and trying to steer clear of the librarian’s wrath.

In an attempt to get some serious studying done, Jungkook suggested getting a table at the back of the library. As you followed him to the back of the library, you noticed a couple, deep within the library aisles, where students rarely went, getting it on. You stopped Jungkook, tugging on his sleeve. “Look!” You whispered. “Oh my god, isn’t that Jimin?”

An approving smile pulled at the corner of Jungkook’s lips. “Yeah. Ever since he met his girlfriend, he’s become such a horn dog.”

You couldn’t take your eyes off the couple. Jimin had his girlfriend leaning on a bookshelf for support, her pants pulled down to her knees and his face buried between her ass cheeks. You hated to say it but it kind of turned you on. Jungkook took your hand and pulled you along.  

“He’s not afraid of getting caught?” You asked.

Jungkook shrugged. “I don’t think so. They fuck in the library all the time. That’s actually how they became a couple. He was her tutor.”

You felt a pool of heat settling in your core, forcing a weather change down under. “God, that’s hot.”

Jungkook stopped walking and looked at you. “You want to try?”

“You mean, fucking in the library?” The idea excited you, but you weren’t exactly sure you wanted to get fully plowed in public yet. “I don’t know about penetration but … maybe some head would be cool.”

Jungkook licked his lips. “I can’t lie, I’ve been wanting to taste you again.”

You shook your head as he led you further into the book aisles. “No, I mean I want to give you head.”

He stopped. “You sure?”

“Yeah, teach me how to suck dick,” you said and then cringed once you heard the words. “That didn’t sound as sexy as I hoped it would have.

He smiled, licking his lips. “Say less,” he pulled you into a corner and unzipped his pants. He pulled his jeans and boxers down but only slightly and produced his semi-hard dick.

“You’re already excited?” You asked and then realized this was your first time seeing his dick. No wonder he was known as the lover, you thought, grabbing it and feeling the weight of it in your hand. “Well, shit.”

“You ready?” He asked and you nodded, slowly dropping to your knees.  He guided you lovingly on how to properly give head but also explained that everyone was different so the way he liked it wouldn’t necessarily be the way another guy liked it. But the way he liked it was known as the ‘vacuum suck.’ He wasn’t into the bells and whistles of sloppy head but preferred something nice and clean and something that felt like his soul was being sucked out of him.

And that, you did. Or at least you gave it the old college try.

You stroked his large dick, your hand running up and down his thick shaft as your tongue flicked over his head. Precum painted your lips as you attempted to slide his entire member into your mouth. It wouldn't fit and Jungkook didn't force it. Above you, he squirmed in delight, his hands threading through your dark locks, gripping ever so slightly.

“Touch my balls, baby girl,” Jungkook said through a low grunt. Your pussy does backflips at the sound of being called ‘baby girl’ but you can’t linger on that too long. Jungkook has your head in his hands and he’s slowly but surely fucking your face. “Agh … I’m going to cum …” He began to pull his dick out, but you didn't let him, instead you did something that you’ve seen countless times on Twitter memes. You suck harder and you kept sucking well after he came. You’d never heard a man squeal before but you’re sure that’s what Jungkook did before you finally popped his dick out of your mouth.

…

Summer was steadily approaching, the weather going from tolerable to the heat of the devil’s ass crack. It’s why Jungkook had suggested that the two of you head to the coast for the weekend. “It would be way cooler out there,” he had said, and you couldn’t argue. So, on a Friday evening, you climbed on the back of his motorcycle and the two of you headed off to the beach for the weekend.

As two broke college students, you didn’t have enough money to afford a fancy hotel, so you settled for a run-down motel room, but it was clean, and the bed was comfortable enough. Jungkook had purchased every snack in the vending machine that night and the two of you shared stories over eight-dollar bottles of wine, BBQ chips, and sour gummies. After finishing off your second bottle of wine, Jungkook lit up a blunt and the two of you shared it, laying back on the motel room bed with the shabby television playing a novella in the background.

“Y/N, I think you may be my best friend.”

“I think you may be right,” you agreed, laughing.

“I can’t believe school will be ending soon,” Jungkook said.

“I know. What am I going to do without you?” you said, a genuine sadness reaching your voice.

“We’re going to stay friends. You’ll come visit me in Los Angeles and I’ll come visit you in New York. You’ll be there when I receive my first Oscar and I’ll be there when you get your first Tony,” Jungkook said with a smile. And you could hear the sincerity in his voice. Even if none of that happened, in this moment right here and right now, Jungkook believed it did and that’s what you loved most about him.

You always thought love was like an arrow. Shooting you in the heart, causing you to instantaneously know that you had fallen but looking at Jungkook in the darkness of this shabby motel room, you realized love wasn’t like that at all. Love was slow and easy. It was sweet. It was kind. It was a soft spring day. It was impromptu trips to your favorite diners. It was sharing secrets in your most special places. It was laughing to your belly ached in the back of a car. It was trips to eat your weight in sushi and then getting ice cream even though you swore you couldn’t eat another bite. It was wiping your tears away at four in the morning because you didn’t get the role in the school play. It was sitting up all night with each other watching the sun rise because he was too anxious to sleep. It was the perfect and it was the imperfect. It was nothing and it was everything. It was you and it was Jungkook.

And right here, right now, you realized that you were in love with Jungkook.

“Jungkook,” you said, looking at him and he turned his head, smiling that beautiful smile. “I love you.”

He stared at you for a moment, studying your features. A hand reached out and cupped your cheek. “I love you too, Y/N.”

You scooted closer to Jungkook and kissed him. It was a soft and sound kiss. Slow and sensual. And he kissed you back with just as much patience. Your arms and legs tangled together, and soon you found your clothes melting away. You felt his lips wrapped around your nipples, his tongue going across your stomach. His hands stroking your pussy with an excruciating softness. You felt his muscles flexing beneath your fingertips, the weight of his manhood in your hands and then in your mouth.

His body reacted with such pleasure as you gave him head. You sucked slowly, making sure every inch of his manhood was wet with your spit. Jungkook stopped you early, citing how much he still wanted to taste you so you laid you on your back and spread your legs, exposing your most sensitive parts but Jungkook shook his head. He guided you on top of him, and you lowered your precious gem to his face. He licked hungrily. Savoring every drop of you. His hands found their way to your round ass and groped the fleshy curves as his tongue dug deeper into you. An electric wave of pleasure washed over you, your body writhing in sweet agony.

As you lay down beside him, he got on top of you. “Are you sure?” He asked. “If you don’t want to go this far, we can stop right now.”

But you didn’t want to stop. You wanted this. You wanted him. You silently nodded for him to continue and Jungkook rolled a condom onto his hardened dick. He positioned himself at your entrance and quietly said, “Here we go.”

He started slowly. You felt an indescribable pressure in your lower abdomen as he continued to slide in but it wasn’t bad. It was just different. He used his right hand to play with your breasts.

His pace quickened. You closed your eyes, biting your lip as the pressure waned, and in came pleasure. He lifted your legs and placed them on his shoulders. This new angle forced a new sensation to bubble within you. It felt amazing but there was a heaviness to it that you couldn’t quite describe. His hand found your clit, rubbing circles on it as he began to fuck you faster. You didn’t think you could cum twice in one night, but Jungkook proved you wrong. A few short moments later, Jungkook’s face tightened, and he let out a deep grunt before falling on top of you. After a moment, he rolled off.

“So how was it experiencing coitus with me?” Jungkook asked, breathing heavily.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It was amazing.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t beat my ass this time.”

You cringed, thinking of the night the two of you met. You rolled to your side, putting your arm around him and your head on his chest. In response, he put his arms around you as well, pulling you close.

“What does this mean for us?” you asked.

“It means that I hope you accept when I ask you out on a date,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“I’ll have to think about it,” you said. “I’ve got one more thing to cross off my bucket list.”

“What’s that?”

You motioned toward the window in the room, outside of it, the beach. “Sex on the beach times two. I want to drink the drink while doing the act.”

With a smile, Jungkook got up and put on his pants. He looked at you, “Well don’t just sit there, let’s go have sex on the beach while we drink sex on the beach.”

[apas-95]

the more well-known the agency confronting you is, the less trouble you're usually in. like if it's the cops at your door, it could just be a noise complaint. FBI might just be there for tweets. obviously, still bad, but... here, a comparison. if you have a run in with the CIA you're probably in trouble, but if you have a run in with the Office of Naval Intelligence then you've definitely fucked up. did you know the USPS has its own investigative force? and you might be thinking like, oh, as in some dudes in baby blue button-ups who search for missing mail - but no, these are uniformed, armed federal agents with all the authority that entails. they've got squad cars and such. and, like, these guys are serious. back in the late '80s to the early '90s, when electronic mail sorting first started to be rolled out, there were consistent issues with the machines having trouble scanning letters. it wasn't a super common problem, but it happened a lot, in multiple states. anyway, the USPS eventually realised two things - first, that the problems persisted even after the machines themselves were replaced (at great expense); and second, that they were really limited to michigan and some surrounding states, with only rare occurrences elsewhere which might be unrelated. anyway, that was enough to get the United States Postal Inspection Service to take interest. if somebody was sending dangerous materials though the mail which were messing with the scanning machines, it was probably endangering postal workers too. this was pre-9/11, so the idea it was terrorism wasn't taken too seriously, and the investigation didn't get much support. anyway, it takes months of waiting for machines to break down, cataloguing the mail they'd been handling, cross-referencing it, etc, to narrow down the source of the mail to somewhere south of detroit. kinda goes cold for a while, since the mail's scanned in big batches and finding the common link takes a *lot* of data and work. anyway it's like october '91 now and they think they've finally got it. they've found a specific batch that's tripping the machines up, and they're going over it with a fine-tooth comb when an agent's pager starts freaking out. after experimenting, they realise that whatever's fucked with the scanning machines has also fucked with the pager, and they realise it might be putting out radiation. biiig 'oh shit' moment. they isolate the whole batch and get a big medical checkup, but they're alright. geiger counter picks up nothing. what they *do* find, however, is that there are like 60 letters in there that are each putting out small amounts of non-ionising EM radiation. so, basically safe to handle, but together they're enough to flip some bits in the janky '80s tech they've got and cause occasional scanning errors. and, get this, they're all from the same address. they track this place down, and it's this guy running a sort of bird sanctuary in his backyard. he's australian, and sells like, courses for avoiding getting attacked by birds - and he spends a lot of time hanging around these birds, right? so they take the guy in for questioning, and they literally can't even have recording equipment on the table with him without it glitching, he's almost cooking popcorn here. they question him, and he tells them about his business, how he like, teaches people specific hand gestures to scare away birds and whatever, and they start grilling him on whether he's been exposed to any chemicals or anything, because of the letters. and the guy, when he hears about the letters, suddenly goes like 'ohhh', and explains. cus he gives people grades on their performance and sends them a handmade certificate after they complete the course, right? so they're like 'why the fuck are your letters irradiated' and he just tells them 'Thats My Crow Wave Gradiation'

[vintagebuckybarnes]

Scarves, Snowflakes, Sweethearts

Pairing: Girlfriend! Natasha Romanoff x Avenger! Romantic Partner! GN! Reader

Total Wordcount: 1.2K

Summary: You mentioned off-handedly that you'd never gone ice skating before, so Natasha will make it her mission to change that. When she succeeds, you can't help but utter the words you've been dying to say for a long time, turning your date night into the best night of your life.

Tags & Warnings: Canon compliant, Avenger! Reader, genderneutral! Reader, established relationship.

Story Rating: G | General

Author's Note: This story - filled to the brim with nothing but pure fluff - is written for the Fluffy Winter Event, hosted by @buck-star! I had heaps of fun writing this, and I have officially melted my socks off with the number of sweet moments I managed to put into this story! 💜

Writing Prompts @buck-star Fluffy Winter Event: Saying "I love you" for the first time | Ice skating | Drinking hot chocolate | All I Want For Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey | "You're adorable when you giggle. You're always adorable." | "You're the most precious thing ever. I will protect you with everything I have." @fandombingo: "I would never joke about loving you." @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition: Alone @fandom-free-bingo Gingerbread Edition: Snowflakes | "Sometimes walls are there so we can lean on them and rest." @fandom-free-bingo Medical Edition: 'I'm never giving up' | "I don't understand."

Tag List: If you'd like to be tagged in my stories, you can find my tag list here.

My blog is for adults (18+) only, and most of its content is intended for mature audiences. Remember that you are responsible for your media consumption. If my content is not your cup of tea, feel free to navigate to blogs other than mine.

The snowflakes fall slowly, covering all of New York City in an angelic layer of beauty. You can't help but snuggle a little deeper into your scarf as you gently squeeze Natasha's hand. This gesture has become a non-verbal cue that you're okay without needing to be asked, and she glances over at you with a slight smile on her lips.

"What's wrong? Isn't an Avenger like you used to it being a little cold outside?" she asks playfully, raising your eyebrow as you give her a mock-offended glance, knowing you can't get mad at her for anything. However, seeing her smile instantly warms you from the inside out, as it never fails to make your heart sing.

"I don't understand how people willingly go outside in these weather conditions. They must be crazy to do it."

Although you were born and raised in New York, you've never been a fan of winter and all that it entails. However, for Natasha, you'd do just about anything, including braving freezing temperatures while the snow crunches beneath your boots.

"I guess I'm crazy then," she says with a shrug before quickening her pace, pulling you along as you approach your destination for the evening: the ice skating rink. It wasn't long ago that you confessed you had never been ice skating before, so she made it her mission to take you on a date to do just that.

"Are you excited to go ice skating?" she asks eagerly, her voice rising with happiness. You nod and reach into your pocket for your phone to pay for renting skates in your respective sizes. As soon as that's done, Natasha finds a bench to sit on and put them on, her enthusiasm infectious as she can't stop telling you how excited she is.

"I’ll do some spins and laps around the rink too! But first, I'll teach you how to skate, of course. There's nothing more important than that," she tells you before leaning in and giving you a peck on the cheek, which makes your face break into a massive grin and sends your stomach doing a little somersault with happiness.

"And what about drinking hot chocolate? I was promised my hot cocoa." You squint your eyes at her playfully, and she nods, her fiery red curls bouncing with each motion.

"That too, Золотце [Darling]. Don't you worry your pretty little head about that for even a second," she giggles.

"You're adorable when you giggle. You're always adorable," you tell your girlfriend, making her cheeks flush from the compliment. It's not something she's entirely used to, but you're gradually teaching her that it's okay to accept compliments. Watching her cheeks warm up at your words fills you with pride, too, especially since she rarely gets this shy and cute.

"Well… you're the most precious thing ever. I will protect you with everything I have." Her words are sealed with a kiss that warms your cheeks this time, making her smile proudly as she pulls away, leaving your lips feeling a bit cold and alone.

"Thank you, Солнышко [Sunshine]."

Once you're both secured and ready to go skating, Natasha reaches out her gloved hand to you, and you happily accept it, taking your first steps on the ice. Though the first few meters feel like a baby deer learning to walk, you soon gain confidence, and it shows. While you're far from mastering the spins and laps that Natasha can do, you're still proud of your progress.

"Can we finally go get my hot chocolate now? I need to sit down before my legs give out and I plant my face on the ice!" The question escapes her lips with a huff as she skates gracefully over to you, expertly maneuvering around all the other people skating simultaneously.

"Of course we can, Золотце. You've done an amazing job, and I'm proud of you," she replies. You smile before eagerly stepping off the ice and holding onto the wall for support. While you search for a table with two chairs to sit at, Natasha orders the hot drink you've been craving the whole time, leaving you with your thoughts for a moment.

As you look at your girlfriend, the urge to say "I love you" for the first time weighs heavily on your mind. It's something you've wanted to express for a while now, and there will never be a more perfect moment than tonight, with the moon illuminating the scene and fairy lights glowing as you enjoy hot chocolate together.

"Here you go—I got your favorite!" Natasha says, placing the cup in front of you, with extra marshmallows floating on top just the way you like.

"So? How are you enjoying our date so far?" The cup rests between her now gloveless hands, allowing her to warm them on the steaming liquid inside. A small smile plays on her lips as she gazes at you with pure adoration and love.

'Let's just say I'm glad that sometimes the walls are there so we can lean on them and rest," you tell her with a chuckle, stretching out your legs for a moment as the soreness slowly disappears.

''But then again, I'm never giving up, so I'll be here until I'm just as good as you.'' Natasha raises an eyebrow at you, her expression a mix of disbelief and pride.

''We'll have to see about that,'' she replies, sitting back and closing her eyes to savor the moment—the warmth of her hot chocolate, your company, and the music playing in the background. As the song switches to 'All I Want for Christmas Is You' by Mariah Carey, you finally gather the courage to share the words you've been thinking since your first date with her.

''I love you, Солнышко.''

As soon as the words hang in the air, she opens her green eyes to meet yours, and her mouth falls open in surprise. Her eyes widen as tears gather in the corners, and you're immediately worried you may have said the wrong thing, though she quickly reassures you.

"Please tell me this isn't a joke. Because I love you too," she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper. You lean forward, your fingers intertwining with hers as you hold her gaze, the connection between you visible.

"I would never joke about loving you, Natasha. I love you from the furthest corners of my soul to the deepest depths of my heart. You're the one I want to grow old with, and the one I have given my heart to. I love you, and I will never tire of telling you this," you tell her gently, making her smile wide as tears roll down her cheeks.

Instead of responding, she gently sets her drink down and cups your cheeks, drawing you into a heartwarming, passionate kiss. As the snow falls gently and the temperatures continue to plummet, a sense of warmth spreads from within, directly coming from your heartfelt confession.

"I love you too, Золотце, and I long to be your wife one day," she says, leaving you speechless. As you try to process her confession, she kisses you again, and your lips fit together in perfect harmony, sealing your promises.

Navigation ~ Natasha Romanoff Library

GIF ~ All the other graphics you see on this post are made by @vintagebuckybarnes

[roxineedstosleep]

Could you do a snippet for yandere platonic Batfam where reader accidentally gets hurt and is able to hide it for a few days until someone (May be Dick?) finds it and asks / gets upset about it? Love your writing!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hi there!!!

First of all: Thank you sweetie!

It's been a while since I've written, mostly because of the university, I'm about to graduate and I'm crazy because I'm approaching my final exams (I even have to defend my research work to be able to get my bachelor's degree)!

But, I got to thinking a bit about what you have written above… and even more so because I myself am a little bit crashed after my last film shoot for my final year of my degree. And can I just say that being in a bad way and having to hide it is terrible.

So… here goes!

(I'm sorry if I sound a bit comical in this writing, but I think the best way to get over something is to laugh at yourself a bit so you don't think about the pain too much; I hope you enjoy it anyway.)

Disclaimer: I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my native/mother tongue. Occasionally, when I think too much, I write them in my language and then translate it in a trusted translator. So, if there's a grammatical problem or a strange term, it's the translator's fault.

Let's face it… having a large family is terribly exhausting.

It's never quiet enough, everyone is in everyone else's business, you can't leave your favorite mermelade in the fridge for less than a day. Someone is always occupying the bathroom or using your favorite shampoo or watching something on TV at too much volume and someone is probably occupying your bed at nap time.

Did I mention about meddling too much in other people's business? Yes? Well… triple it.

Having multiple siblings was new.

Having multiple siblings, a father and a butler/grandfather isn't exactly bread and butter either.

It wouldn't be so bad to belong to a large and numerous one if it was your blood family and you had lived with them all your life. I mean, sometimes blood is too thick and you have no choice but to learn to love them or just be nice to each other.

Like I said, it wouldn't be so bad if they were really your family.

But the Waynes were not your family. Not distant relatives or anything like that.

You were just living your life, as quietly as possible… and poof!

New room, new butler/grandfather, pets beyond belief, 4 new male siblings and a father with serious emotional constipation issues. And, to add more salt to your wound…. all have serious abandonment issues and death-related trauma.

After several escape attempts, sleep strikes, hunger strikes and any other kind of protest that an anarchist could be proud of… you realized that it was simply impossible to get out of this without risking the path of death.

Which, to top it all off, was also unreliable because apparently your older brother Jason had revived as well as another of your siblings. So no, dying was also not a viable option to which one could resort in the worst case scenario.

What to do?

Well, not much. Trying not to die of suffocation of affection or finding a way to have privacy while going to the bathroom just seemed to be the best survival tools you could resort to.

What does that entail?

It implies that Tim was going to give you hours and hours of lectures on his latest discovery of a case, even if you don't understand half the things he's told you or mentioned at all.

Richard and Damian trying to teach you new tricks almost every second, taking you to the Zoo or not leaving you alone to go to the bathroom.

That Jason, oh holy cow he is the only one more relaxed, takes you with him on his motorcycle to eat ice cream and to the public library. Without being able to scape, because it seems that you have a kind of GPS inserted in the bone marrow.

(Sometimes you don't know if it's true or not, but sometimes you also felt pain between your bones, almost during the cold seasons, and you didn't want to burst your poor little head thinking of different viable possibilities knowing them. No scars, no remembering anythins about any surgery).

Have a grandfather who will not hesitate to make you cookies, your favorite foods whenever you want … without leaving you aside at any time.

Plus a terribly quiet father, who if he can will carry you for as long as you spend time together, won't let you near the secret basement and enjoys being in the same room with you.

Do you see any privacy in this?

No, because even at the bathroom door would be the pets trying to get in and see you for themselves while you want to do your business.

The worst of that? Titus always judge you when you close the curtains.

As I mentioned and it was clear: Having a large family implies little privacy… Having a large, obsessive family means NO privacy.

So, knowing that you have over 50 nanochips tracking in all your clothes, two security monitors embedded - God knows how - in your body (monitors that only tell you if you are in designated safe place), 20 high definition surveillance cameras in every room and a Great Dane chasing you like a chick …. How the heck do you fall down the stairs and hit your pelvic bone without anyone noticing?

No kidding, how?

And if you had to blame someone for your fall… you'd totally blame Damian for it.

It's not that the kid pushed you down the stairs, but over time he had tamed himself into various things and relaxed into looking his age. You know!!! He started acting like a normal teenager!

What do Damian's kids do at his age? Well, they leave things lying around and have messing around them when they can, of course they do!

You just wanted some yogurt with orange marmalade. Maybe some oatmeal cookies. Alfred had left it for you in the fridge when he noticed you'd been watching video tutorials on homemade marmalade for hours. Who were you to deny such a gesture of generosity?

I mean, Alfred was the one who allowed you to hide in the attic for hours on end so you could have some time to yourself.

And how did it end? You, slipping down the main stairs of the old Wayne mansion, down a nicely polished wooden staircase, rolling all the way down (which is no small flight of stairs, it should be noted) to the bottom of the first floor.

Now, lying on the ground is not so bad in itself. What is bad is not being able to feel your legs and still not being able to understand how you manage to tidy up your neural wiring so that your legs can still move on their own and go to the kitchen to rescue all the delicacies Alfred left you in time.

And it's a good thing you managed to do it… because within seconds Bart had rushed in to ransack the fridge and the fruit basket.

But that's not the point.

The important thing is that this time you managed, I insist a little on the feat of action, to climb up to your room and not notice how you couldn't really feel your legs.

You ate, you lay down… and to your bad or good luck, you couldn't get up …. and without anyone noticing there was an emergency and everyone went out to sort it out.

Weak limbs, limited movement and you don't want to mention the embarrassing actions you did in order to go to the toilet.

It's not like you hid it either, I mean, there was no one who could even notice because they weren't entirely available to watch you. Nor is it that you would have run away, otherwise they would have been at your side in less than a second.

The detail, as they insist, is that you had probably bruised your back badly and your body was now taxing you extra for your food craving.

I insist, you did not hide anything.

But still, when you're found completely itchy on the floor, ridiculously trying to run away in the direction of the bathroom… that's when everyone really goes crazy.

First, having to carry you and not dying of embarrassment when you notice that Bruce definitely doesn't give a damn about having to carry you to the bathroom and do almost everything for you.

Or having Dick and Jason carry you and fit you into some kind of weird medical scanner they have in the cave.

Or that Tim keeps track of your periods, types of meds you take and, for fuck's sake, knows how the fuck to inject something into your spine.

Or that Damian had the gall to look a little embarrassed when he heard that a pair of boxers lying outside the laundry basket was to blame for all this.

NO matter.

At the end of the day they heal you, pamper you, leave you alone when you need to take a nap and figure out a way to fix it without looking like complete maniacs who built some kind of internal plumbing that sucks up the dirty laundry and throws it straight into the washing machine.

Like the time they didn't look like maniacs by sanding all the edges of the tables and nightstands.

Or the time they bought a whole brand of sanitary towels when they realised that not all women use tampons.

Don't worry, they're looking out for you… even if they look like deranged Arkhan freaks in the process.

[cute-sucker]

Hi! I wanna request a story of like kook reader having a crush on Rafe and her friends always warns her about his behaviors but she doesn’t care at all and continues to admire him and he definitely notices it but he’s so nonchalant and cold about it😭😭

rafe cameron was your world. 

if it was up to you, the sun set on him, and the moon awakened when his face came into view. it was cheesy you knew, after all, you had been his neighbour forever, but you couldn't help but find yourself drawn to his behaviour. when either it was his looks or the cocky smile that he had. whatever it was, it was not okay. 

well, you didn't see a problem with it. it was just a crush. just something to smile about sometimes, or think about. that's what you had promised some of your friends. but sometimes your friend mindy would tap your shoulder as she mouthed a soft "no," "no." 

at a certain point, you had become wheezie's babysitter in hopes of getting closer to rafe. it was pathetic you knew, but wheezie was such a sweet girl that you loved it even more. days at tanyhill were filled with finger paintings and fairy tales. sometimes you would go all out and let wheezie cook, although that did entail both of you getting completely covered in flour. and that was how you met him. formally. 

you had been smiling up at wheezie, as she told you the gingerbread cookies looked more crooked than usual. you had batted it off telling her that the two of you just had different styles. still you were covered in flour as rafe walked in. while you did have a small crush on him, you tried to ignore him as much as possible. if he was in a room, you walked out choking, blushing so hard. you were just so shy, you could barely say a word. 

yet here you were on the floor as you giggled with wheezie. the two of you were tired. until a voice rang out. 

"what the hell is going on? the place is a mess. shit." 

you felt your heart race as you got up, while wheezie continued to roll on the floor telling you how this perspective of the world was wicked. finally, rafe came into view, eyes squinted as his eyebrows were furrowed. "who the hell are you?" 

wheezie rolled her eyes, "oh my god, rafe can you be more embarrassing. she's my babysitter?" his expression stayed confused before he shrugged it off walking to the fridge, wheezie scoffed, "damn rafe do you even pay attention-" 

"hey!" he snapped, swinging the fridge open to take out a carton of milk, a warning finger in the air, "don't swear." 

at this wheezie scoffed, putting her hands on her hips, "you do it all the time, i don't know why i can't-"

"wheezie, i'm older than you," he interjected, and then he held the milk carton up to his lips. wheezie winced, making a disgusted face, as she pushed him away from the fridge. rafe stumbled away a satisfied grin on his face, ruffling wheezie's hair.  

"ugh, boys you know," wheezie huffed, closing the fridge door with a bang.  

finally wheezie looked up at you, almost as if she was realising you had said nothing and arched an eyebrow at your expression, placing a comforting pink manicured hand on your shoulder. it was humorous how the 13 year old was trying to make you feel better. her nails were still a shocking neon pink with sparkles. 

"don't feel too bad. rafe is weird." the two of you left it at that before going back to making cookies. 

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉

"and then he came in, like all khakis, and that hot polo shirt," you giggled into your phone, kicking your feet. your friend mindy made a hurrupted sound on the phone, "i met him, like actually met him. why aren't you as excited about this?" 

suddenly the phone went silent, and you could hear her soft breathing, "i dunno, i mean lets think about this rationally," she sighed out, and you groaned, turning over in bed. this meant that hard truths were going to be told. 

"-okay i know you hate this, but you've babysitting for the camerons for what, two years?" 

"three years," you corrected, before realising your error. 

"yeah, three years and he hasn't noticed you at all? hasn't thought to ask, 'hey who's that rando girl staying in our home dad?' at all? they invited you to the midsommers, and to all of their parties. and he doesn't know you?" 

you winced at that, before you pouted turning back on your back, "listen, i know it sounds bad, but i don't know. it'll happen."  

you didn't think about it too hard, but there was a noticeable shift. you were putting a lot of care into changing into a cute dress, or painting your nails with extra care, or making sure you asked wheezie where he was. you didn't think it was obvious, but one time wheezie brought it up. 

"do you have a crush on rafe?" she asked, stuffing her face with the burger you had made her. 

you were taking a gulp out of your lemonade and almost spat it out, "wheezie! don't ask me things like that." 

she blinked at you innocently, "i don't know what you're talking about. it's a valid question," and then she pouted, "i thought you'd tell me everything about yourself." 

"well, no, i don't have a c-crush on your brother," you sputtered out, glaring at wheezie who gave you a sly grin. she quickly let go of the conversation, and the two of you were arguing over jenga and who had won. 

quickly enough the days passed at the tanyhill, you had settled down into the belief that rafe would not notice you. who cared? you had a nice job, wheezie was a sweetheart and mr. cameron loved having you around. it was perfect all of it, until rafe approached it. 

it was for a frat part you could tell. with his backward cap on, a fitted tee, he looked like a dream. the babysitting shift was over, and you were slowly walking outside only to see rafe revving up his motorcycle. 

you found yourself flushing at the whole scene and murmured out a soft 'bye.' as usual, you were ignored, or maybe you were too quiet, goddamn it you were so stupid-

"hey!" 

you turned around to see rafe cupping his face to yell at you. he had pulled off his helmet to talk to you. 

"hey," you stuttered out, grasping at your tote bag. you looked like a total grandma, with your cardigan, and written-on sneakers, "what's up?" 

"just heading off to a party, and uh," he scratched his head, squinting his eyes before tearing his eyes off his motorcycle to look back at you, "wanna come? it's at like nine." 

"sure! of course. yeah, sure," you blurted out, flushing even more. he regarded you again, a well-natured smile flittering across his face. 

"yea, i'll see you then." 

so there it was. an invitation. rafe cameron had invited you to a party. 

maybe this was a start of something.

[vagabond-umlaut]

[11:20 PM]

summary: you know suguru loves you—but do you really know suguru loves you?

tags: geto suguru x you; pining; SO MUCH pining; love confession; can this be called 'hurt/comfort'? idk; you're a goner for suguru; suguru too is a goner for you but he's a cult leader here, so tread with caution, y'all; you & suguru co-parent mimi-nana; both of you are sooo... terrible in love *mwah mwah mwah* (no hate nor disrespect meant for online college courses btw <3)

wc: 2k+ (this was supposed to be a drabble T-T)

series: to fall in love is to create a religion (that has a fallible god)

love is stored in the eyes—

you never quite realise this before suguru.

every morning when he hands you your cup of tea just the way you're fond of it; every time he sets out for the cult headquarters with a hug for the twins and a soft smile for you; every evening he returns home, once again wrapping the kids up in a warm hug, and sometimes even pulling you in; every time you bump into him while tidying your house up after you both have successfully put mimi-nana to bed—

no matter the hour of the day, whenever your gaze meets his, you can never fail to understand that suguru loves you, how much suguru is in love with you—

something that never quite fails to leave you breathless.

something that never quite fails to leave you whirring and wondering.

you have always loved suguru.

you loved him then when he was a sweet kind boy, untouched by the grimy nails of the real world. you loved him then when he was a mere shell of the said boy, cracked and crumbling away at the edges. you love him now when he is no longer a boy but a man exacting revenge on the society and all those in it who have wronged him; a man doing what he deems is needed to correct a world that is already tainted at its core.

you reckon you have loved him since before you knew exactly what 'love' entails. you believe you will always love him so; he's the cause, after all, why and how you've learnt the meaning of 'love'.

but, but, but... why does he love you?

had it been before, it would have made sense.

the eldest scion, the only daughter of a prestigious clan. features not the most stunning but charming enough to draw people's eyes when entering a room. gentle and mild, cultured and graceful—albeit not without a mind decently sharp plus a tongue barbed enough to hush any stinging comment. sufficiently good in academics, besides being the owner of a cursed technique so strong, it has oft been compared with the techniques of the zenin's and the kamo's—

long story short, you were assuredly a catch then.

it would have made a hell lot of sense if suguru fell for you then—but he never looked at you then in the manner he regards you now.

even though you have nearly nothing to offer the man now.

what with having been disowned by your parents, disowned by your clan, since the moment you decided to cut your ties with the jujutsu world and support suguru in his efforts. yeah, true, you still possess your good looks, refined upbringing, quick wits and an even quicker tongue—but you've also seen the curse users flocking round suguru. you don't think you can hold a candle to many, so many of them...

and as to the matter of your cursed technique?

geto suguru is the strongest, quite possibly the scariest curse user in recent history. your cursed technique pales when contrasted against the brilliance of his—there is a very slim chance he would cherish you for it. plus, you've seen the curse users flocking around him—there is an extremely high probability of few, if not many, of them having way more intriguing cursed techniques than yours; ones that would catch his eye much more certainly than yours—

you don't really hold any significance in his life other than taking care of nanako and mimiko, and occasionally putting in your two cents on the affairs of the cult... things, you're certain, suguru can easily find a far more suitable person for—

oh.

oh, oh.

does he actually love you?

you aren't reading the man wrong, are you?

said man merely blinks when you vault this ask onto him one night.

it takes him a beat before he questions back, "what?"

"you heard me, senpai," you hum a breezy reply, fighting your urges to look away and at the laptop open before you; the college you go to might be online but the assignments are in no way any less difficult—but then again, how can you wrench your gaze away when it is your dearest geto-senpai?

good or bad, you don't know, but you've always been too too weak for him. and now when he is standing before you, face crumpled up in an adorable frown while his eyes—those coal-black pools of gravity that are still telling you he loves you—they stay focused on you, and solely on you, not even granting a glance to the fact that his sleeves are not rolled up any more and are getting wet in the tap water—

"senpai," you start, your worry for his well-being eclipsing all the other concerns—suguru barely glances away from your face as he turns the water off and leans against the sink, turning entirely to face you. your ears feel warm under the weight of his unwavering gaze, but you vow not to pay them any mind.

not tonight.

not now.

"i know i've been a tad too busy these days," suguru explains, a weary sigh underlining his soft syllables, and making your heartstrings twist and twinge, "but that doesn't mean i don't love you or the twins—you three are my family—"

confused, you frown, trying to understand just what suguru is talking about... only for the realisation to dawn upon you a beat later.

you crack a smile, the words leaving you drenched in an undeniable fondness, "i know you love us, senpai. you're very much a family man; there's no doubt about it—i was just wondering if you love me or not."

"but didn't you just say you know—ah."

a muscle cramps behind your ribs. you realise you've never been this forthright before.

you've never loved anyone before.

those stifled urges of looking away and ducking under the too bright glow of your laptop screen surge once again, yet you suppress them more easily than then—but your heart doesn't prove to be as easy to tame, skipping and cramping and stuttering as you stare at the man before you. mentally drinking in the sight of him standing in the dim kitchen lights, dressed in a loose shirt and a pair of pyjamas with the sleeves soaking wet from washing dishes, and most notably, a novel but so very endearing flush creeping up from the little which can be seen of his chest, crawling up into his neck before the vivid red hues perfuse into, settling beneath the smooth skin of his cheeks—

you suck in a sharp breath, barely perceived but very much felt, when your gaze finally meets his. and those eyes, you find—those beautiful, wretched, wretchedly beautiful eyes—they appear to be drinking you in; inescapable black holes of the universe condensed into those thin sharp eyes you have grown to adore so much—

"i do," he offers quietly, voice so soft you might have mistaken it for a breeze outside had your five senses not been focused on him—solely on him—"i love you... the way you want me to... the way you've always loved me... i—i love you."

were you anyone but you, you would have been nursing a giggle now, seeing the oh-so-eloquent, oh-so-charming geto-sama falter, repeat and fumble with his words and sentences.

were you anyone but you, you would have been sporting a blush now, grasping the fact that you haven't been as guarded with your feelings for your former senpai as you have always liked to think you have.

were you anyone but you, you would have opted to bask in the sweet warm afterglow of being confessed to by the man you've been loving since seemingly forever—not everyone is so damn lucky in love, after all; not everyone gets to hear those three words, eight letters by geto suguru, after all...

it is one thing seeing the love for oneself in the eyes of one's beloved. it is another thing hearing them lend voice to that love.

but you aren't anyone but you.

which is why you can't help but make a sour face, tone bitterly baffled as you ask, "but why would you?"

"why would i?"

you nod your head in reply to suguru's echoed question, deciding not to pay any mind to its terribly dumbstruck tenor. "mmhm! why would you fall in love with someone like me, senpai? i've got nothing to give you in return; you won't get any sort of benefit falling in love with me. why would you ever choose to love such a person, senpai?"

suguru doesn't say anything for a while.

he just keeps staring. too too quiet, he cuts quite an imposing figure as he leans against the sink and keeps looking at you—it would have been creepy, you think, were it anyone but him. but it isn't, he's your geto-senpai, so you don't deem it to be creepy. just a little terrifying, and a lot alluring, if you ought to be honest—

"do you love me?" the man asks suddenly.

you waste not even one breath to shoot back, "i do. you know i do."

"but why would you?"

"wha—" you start, thrown off-kilter by this abrupt swerve suguru has made your conversation take. he merely smiles, not leaving you even one square inch space to wedge a foot in, "let alone advantages, i've brought you nothing but disadvantages, love—had you not fallen for me, you would have been living a comfortable posh life at your clan's estate"—no—"most probably promoted to the rank of a special grade sorcerer by now"—no—"or perhaps, attending a reputed university"—no—"and not have been stuck here, in some cheap two bedroom flat, with the words 'curse user' tainting your pristine image and a bounty on your head so high that you have to sit at home and take an online college course—"

"will you please shut up?"

in hindsight, you'll reckon that you should have kept your voice down lest the twins wake up and start crying in the next room. in hindsight, you'll also reckon that you should never have talked in such a tone to the man in front of you—but in this moment, you do not really reckon anything.

barely restraining your anger as it threatens to spill over as acid from your words, as tears from your eyes.

"so what, senpai? so what? i am in love with you!! i haven't decided to do business with you, that i must be aware of the possible risks, and profits and losses, and all that bullshit—i've decided to love you!! and i'll keep loving you because of and in spite of everything that you are, no matter wh—"

oh.

oh, oh—

oh.

your laptop lets out a faint beep.

one room away, you hear mimiko call for you then her adoptive father.

despite the maelstorm of emotions—enlightened?relieved?mortified?—wrecking havoc in your chest, you tear your gaze away from suguru and get up, a stripe of regret settling in your messy palette of feelings when the little girl's voice reaches you once again, much more frantic than the last time—

only to be pushed back into your chair by a large, slightly damp hand over your shoulder.

"stay here," suguru says, eyes crinkling and lips curled in an effortless smile; quieting you when you move to protest, "and while you're here, teach yourself to be a bit more kind to yourself, yes? my patience can only last for so long when someone insults me or what belongs to me—" he pauses, smile falling a bit as his eyes abruptly dip to the hollow of your throat, thumb brushing a gentle stroke over your collarbone—

your breath catches in your throat.

precisely at the spot suguru has trained all his focus on.

his eyes rise to meet yours, as swift as they fell then—

and you return a distracted nod—too occupied losing yourself in the abyss inside those obsidian pools of love; too blind to the sharp little tilt of his lips, when the object and subject of your adoration croons.

"you do understand what i'm saying—don't you, my love?"

early twenties cult leader suguru is the freakiest of all the suguru's, i believe ^_^

divider by @/cafekitsune

[olomaya]

More Activities Activity Table

Eat, Play, Learn! Family Fun for Everyone!

2-Sep Update: Thank you @jeebeehey for the French translation. Please redownload if you'd like them.

Updated for redownload (27 July):

Fixed an issue where the interaction cancels out if a toddler doesn't like the food. Thanks to @zemyna for catching!

Added the non-English stbls. Sorry, I swear I'm not one of those Anglophones that thinks English is the only language (I actually speak 3!), it's just a small step in the upload process that's easy to forget.

This is the final part of my little Kids and Toddlers mod series. It's meant to complement the Coloring Book and the Toddler foods mods so you will need those for this.

When I started this, I didn't think through how many new animations or custom details it would entail and I as continued, I kept having to add more and more. There are like 60 animations and 40 image assets 😭 hence why the two main files are so large for a mod.

What I've done is added more activities to the Activity Table after years of being annoyed that the Activity Table we have in TS3, despite being the EXACT SAME table from TS2, does not in fact allow your Sims to draw on it. EA, so lazy!

Anyway, what this does is add 4 new interactions to the Activity Table: Coloring, Arts & Crafts, Puzzles and the ability to serve toddlers food so they can eat there.

The activities are for toddlers and kids only but Teens+ can join in the puzzles if it's already been started by a toddler or child.

Note this will work with any of the Activity Tables in the game or Store but the puzzle will look weird as it's placed in the same spot as where the blocks are. You can use it with custom/cc activity tables provided only the mesh has been edited (for example, if slots are changed or removed, it may not work).

Credits/Thanks: The glue bottle, crayon, CAS paint items and one of the arts and crafts image assets are from @aroundthesims. Thanks as always to Sandy for her generosity and creativity in making Sims content! I originally only wanted to add the option to color/draw but this set of hers inspired me to add in more features. (hmm, maybe I shouldn't be thanking you then considering what a pain that was 🤔😅) All other objects and images are from TS4. Custom animations are by me using TS4 and TS3 as bases.

All buyable objects (table, crayons, puzzles) can be found in Kids Room/Toys.

Check out my other mods in the Kids and Toddlers series: Coloring Book for Kids, Toddler Bed, Toddler Foods and Snacks.

If you run into any issues (and YOU'VE READ THROUGH THE INSTRUCTIONS) please let me know!

Please read below the cut for all the details on features and how to play.

Download here | Alternate Link: SFS

Coloring: Toddlers and Kids can color if there is a crayon box on the lot. Just like using a coloring book, coloring a picture will take up one crayon. Coloring increases painting skill for both. When completed, the final project will be in their inventory.

Arts & Crafts: Toddlers and Kids can do an arts and craft project. Not additional object is needed. They go pretty crazy with the glitter and glue so it can be dirty stuff if they don't have the neat trait. This activity decreases their hygiene and they will get covered in glitter paint when done. Similar to coloring, when completed, the final project will go in their inventory and they get painting skill while playing.

Puzzles: You need to buy a puzzle box and have it on your lot to do puzzles. There are two puzzle boxes but they do the same thing. And they stack! (I love stackable things) There are 3 puzzle types: Easy, medium and Hard. Toddlers can only do Easy puzzles. Children can do either easy, medium or Hard puzzles depending on their Logic skill (for Hard, logic needs to be 3 or higher). The puzzle difficulty will also determine how long it takes to complete the puzzle. Teens+ can help with puzzles but they can't start a puzzle on their own. Toddlers can kids can start a puzzle on their own or help another Sim with a puzzle. Puzzles increase Logic skill for all those playing it but will increase faster for whoever starts the puzzle. If a puzzle is completed, everyone who helped put it together will get bonus skill points. If there is already a puzzle on the table, there is no option to start another, you can only help with the current puzzle. There are different puzzle images (15 in total) but there's no difference between them. The only thing that matters is puzzle difficulty. If the Sim who started the puzzle stops for whatever reason (you or the game cancels the interaction), everyone else helping will stop as well.

Eating: Children+ can serve toddlers meals or snacks. It works the same as my Toddler Foods and Snacks mod. They will place the tray/bowl on the activity table and then call the toddler to eat. If the toddler is hungry, they will go over and start eating. Otherwise, they can always eat it later.

Known Issues:

Animations aren't perfect (but what in life is?) so there's some clipping, especially on the toddlers when they kneel.

The comically large puzzle piece accessory jumps around a little and sits kind of weird in the toddler's hand. I suspect this is because the game is using the adult version of the object animation. I've noted it for fixing whenever I do a second pass on the mod.

The food tray is upside down. Setting object rotation in-game messes up the routing for the table so I'm leaving it as is as it doesn't really bother me.

If there is a food tray or bowl on the table, you shouldn't be able to do anything else there because that slot/part is being used but I had this happen once where my tester child started coloring there. It didn't happen again but if it does happen in your game, simply cancel out the interaction and route them to another part of the table.

The puzzle leaves a shadow even when it's pile form because the shadow mesh is there but you only see it until the geostate changes.

This is not an issue but the alternate material states for objects are only available in high so if you play with graphic settings for objects on medium or low, you're going to see the default image for the puzzles or pictures.

Tagging for reblogs: @kpccfinds @katsujiiccfinds @pis3update

[decentwritings]

Chapter 2

Summary: At twenty-six, you never expected your life to look like this: a veteran, a college dropout, now running drugs to cover your late father’s debts. The military took you away for a brief moment, but now you're back in your hometown, keeping family at a distance to keep them safe. Your simple plan to clear the debt, one job at a time, unravels the moment Mabel steps into your life.

previous part <- -> next part

Something about that night with Mabel flipped a switch in you.

You quit avoiding the diner your uncle owned. You stopped by the next morning—tired and a bit cranky, but you still showed up. Your appearance was obviously a surprise, and Jodie and Rudy both sat down with you after you ordered, picking at your food like they hadn't seen you in weeks. You didn't mind, considering this meal was going to be free.

And it was. Although you did argue with them about it. You tried leaving a tip, but they somehow found a way to slip it back into your pocket. You found it later when you were getting dressed after a swim.

It was a small gesture, but it made you think. Maybe you didn't need to run from this place after all. Maybe you could actually belong here—if you wanted to.

You take a sip of your coffee, staring out the diner window as the morning crowd filters in. The world around you feels the same, but something inside you has shifted. You can't quite put your finger on it yet, but it's there.

Then, you see her, and you're reminded why you've been avoiding this place. Other than the usual reasons.

You see her through the window, and all those memories rush back like an undertow pulling you under. Erin. The one person you couldn't seem to shake, no matter how much distance or time you tried to put between you.

This diner was hers long before it was yours. On that first date, she played along, pretending like everything was new, like she didn't already know the place better than anyone. You didn't figure it out until months later, after you'd already fallen hard.

Erin never wanted to leave. Her roots ran deep in this town, tethering her here like an anchor you couldn't compete with. Her father, once the mayor, had moved on to city council in the next town over, but Erin? She stayed even after everything fell apart between you two.

The split was mutual but happened after an argument about what the future between you two looked like. You said a different state, and an argument commenced. No one won. In fact, you both lost. Each other.

The months that followed, you stayed in bed much to your parents and sister's dismay. They did everything to console you but you just didn't want to leave your room. You showered and washed your clothes but other than that you barely existed outside those four walls. The weight of losing Erin, the life you thought you'd have with her, kept you anchored in that space. Nothing felt right without her—like the future you had pictured together shattered the moment you mentioned leaving.

But that was years ago. And now here you are, sitting in the diner, staring out the window, watching her laugh with someone else. She seems lighter, and more carefree than when you last saw her. It's a painful reminder that while you were stuck, drowning in your grief, she was moving on. You had too, but, seeing her, makes you remember the tight hold she had on your heart.

A hold so strong, that losing her made you nonexistent. Hell, it made you drop out of college. You joined the army, for god's sake. You're positive your mom and sister hate her because she was the one who got the ball rolling, got you to talk to your grandfather then joined the army.

Your fingers tighten around your coffee cup as you watch her step out of her car, laughing with someone you don't recognize.

Suddenly, being here doesn't feel like progress—it feels like a mistake.

You decide it's time to go. You know she plans to enter the diner and you don't want to deal with the awkwardness an encounter between you two will entail. So you stand and place a twenty on the table. You know that will find its way back to you but you aren't too worried about it now.

You're too late though. Because as you walk to the door, she's entering and there's no way of acting like you two didn't see each other. What captures your attention after her eyes is the shiny badge on her belt.

You freeze for a split second, eyes locking with hers. The last thing you ever wanted was to run into Erin like this, and the sight of that badge gleaming under the diner lights sends a jolt through you. Detective. A part of you isn't surprised—Erin was always determined, always had her sights set on making a difference. But seeing it now, knowing how far she's come, it stings.

You feel even more awkward, too. Because your ex-girlfriend is a cop, and you're practically a criminal who hasn't gotten caught yet.

Her expression shifts when she recognizes you—first surprise, then something you can't quite place. You clear your throat, trying to regain control of the situation, but there's no easy way out now.

"Hey," she says, her voice softer than you remember, but that underlying confidence is still there.

"Hey," you reply, your voice strained. You can't help but glance down at the badge again, a bitter taste forming in your mouth. Of course, she moved on, and of course she succeeded. Meanwhile, you left this town, joined the army, and are still trying to figure out where you fit.

Oh, and you're moving drugs to pay your father's debt off.

"I heard you were back," Erin says, smiling at her friends who excuse themselves to leave you two alone. You glance at them, wishing they hadn't given you time alone. "Thought it was just a rumor."

"Oh, in this town, rumors tend to be true," you find yourself responding, chuckling nervously. You clear your throat when you hear her awkward chuckle. "Umm, I should go–"

"We should catch up," she interrupts you, smiling softly.

You purse your lips and nod, unsure of what to say back. You don't want to say no, but you don't want to say yes either. You don't want her to know where you are in life. Having accomplished so much yet still stuck in the same cycle that pushed you away in the first place. The last thing you need is for Erin to dig into your life now, to see the cracks beneath the surface that you've worked so hard to hide.

"Yeah, maybe," you force out, not entirely convincing, but enough to avoid the awkwardness dragging on.

Her smile falters for a second, but she nods. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah," you echo, already stepping back toward the door. "You too."

As you leave the diner, the tension in your chest starts to loosen, but the weight of seeing Erin again lingers. You shove your hands in your pockets and walk quickly, feeling the distance between you and the life you once had stretch even further.

She's a detective now. You? You're just trying to survive. And as much as you wish you could pretend otherwise, you know that seeing her again isn't going to help with that. Maybe you were right to keep avoiding this place after all.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you groan, the last thing you need now is to deal with anyone. You just want to be alone.

And when you check your phone, you wish you hadn't. Nick is the guy they left in charge of you to make sure you get the drugs moved. He's also in charge of making sure you clean out the money you receive.

You hesitate before opening the message, already knowing it's not going to be anything you want to deal with. A knot forms in your stomach as you tap on the message, and sure enough, Nick's message glares back at you.

Get ready for a swim tonight. Be at the docks at 9. Bring your swimsuit.

You lock your phone, clenching your jaw. Of course, he wasn't asking questions about your life to find out your interests and hobbies. He was asking to see what else you can help with. Thankfully, you didn't mention your memory. You let it slip in high school, and everyone wanted to be your friend.

Nick is at the bottom of the food chain, the one who deals with the simple things. You can't imagine who you'll deal with if they discover your skills go beyond just moving drugs. The thought sends a chill down your spine. Nick is bad enough—always hanging around, keeping tabs on you—but you've heard stories about the people higher up. Ruthless, dangerous, the kind of people who would see your memory as an asset, not just a quirk.

You heard what happened to the guy in charge of Nick. Killed at some bakery by some old guy? Apparently, the old man went crazy and just shot some guy named Pete Weeks and his brother.

The memory of that story lingers in the back of your mind, unsettling you. Pete Weeks had been a name whispered in dark corners, a man you never wanted to cross paths with. But then he and his brother got gunned down in broad daylight by some old man in a bakery, sending shockwaves through the underworld. It made everyone in this business, even someone like Nick, a little more paranoid, a little more dangerous.

You can't help but wonder what happens when people like that get killed. Who steps in to fill the void? What kind of chaos follows? The fact that someone like Pete could be taken out so easily only reminds you of how fragile your situation really is. One wrong move, one slip of information, and you could be next.

The thought tightens your chest as you walk aimlessly down the street, trying to block out the noise in your head. The docks tonight. Another deal. Another chance for things to spiral out of control. You're in deep, and the more you think about it, the more you realize that getting out might be impossible.

You also heard how the higher-ups have plans to retaliate. Apparently, Weeks left behind a wife and a kid. Whoever is close to that old man who killed Weeks should be out of town or sleeping with an eye open. It's a plan they've had for a while now. You know of it, not of the plan, though.

Your plan now is to pick up your nephew from school. You'll take whatever time you can with him.

Your nephew is the one bright spot in all of this—the only thing that makes you feel like you're still a part of something good. The thought of picking him up from school gives you a small sense of purpose, a reason to keep going even when everything else feels like it's slipping out of control. At least when you're with him, the weight of everything you're caught up in doesn't feel so suffocating.

As you walk, your mind shifts gears, thinking about the innocent moments you'll share with him. You'll ask him about his day, help him with his homework, maybe take him to the park or get ice cream. The normalcy of it, the simplicity, is the only thing grounding you.

You check your watch. School lets out soon, so you head toward his school, determined to block out the mess of the docks, the retaliation plan, and everything else for just a few hours. It's the least you can do—for him, and for yourself.

When you arrive at the school grounds, you notice teachers with small children just outside the building. You frown, catching sight of your nephew's teacher.

You rush over and relief washes over you when you see your nephew sitting on the grass a few feet away, giggling with some of his friends. The toy car you gave him on his lap. He told you he planned to show it to his classmates, to show off he said.

"Ms. Ferris, hey," you greet the teacher, feeling your heart rate go down when you hear your nephew giggle. "What's going on? Is this a new recess time or something?"

Ms. Ferris smiles apologetically. "I wish," she exhales a breath, shaking her head. "Devin is okay. All the students are okay, but..."

She glances around, searching for listening ears. Your frown deepens; what could she be wanting to share that is so secretive?

"There was a threat sent to a teacher, and we had to take precautions."

Your stomach tightens at her words, the weight of everything you've been trying to push aside rushing back in. A threat? Your eyes instinctively flick to your nephew, still laughing with his friends, blissfully unaware of the danger looming over them.

"A threat?" you echo, your voice low. "What kind of threat?"

Ms. Ferris hesitates, glancing around again before leaning in slightly. "We don't know all the details yet. The school received a message targeting one of the staff. The police are already involved, but it's still unclear who's behind it or how serious it is. We just wanted to make sure the kids are safe while they investigate."

Your mind immediately jumps to Erin—she's a detective now, a part of you wants to loop her in and tell her everything you have been up to. And with everything happening lately, it wouldn't be far-fetched to think this could be connected to whatever's going on with Weeks' people. But you shake the thought away. This is your nephew's school. Whatever's happening here should have nothing to do with your mess, right?

God, you hope so.

"Does anyone know who sent the message?" you ask, trying to sound calm but feeling the edges of your nerves fray.

Ms. Ferris shakes her head. "Not yet. The principal's been in meetings with the police all morning, and they've asked us to keep the kids outside until they're sure everything is clear."

Your eyes drift back to your nephew, a sense of protectiveness kicking in. You've been through enough to know that threats like this, especially if they remain vague, are never good.

"I'm sure his mom won't mind if I take him out early," you say, mostly to have him close by. You aren't waiting to pick him up in a few hours.

Ms. Ferris smiles with an understanding nod. "Devin!" She calls out, and the boy turns, his eyes beaming when he sees you. She doesn't have to say anything else; he's on his feet and rushing over to you in seconds.

"Sup, munchkin," you kneel down to take him in your arms. He's always been small, but you hoped he'd grow by the time he was in school. Considering your sister's size and his father's height, he probably wouldn't get some height until fifth grade.

Your dad said shortness lasts for a while in your family.

"Hey!" Devin grins, holding up the toy car you gave him. "Look what I showed everyone!"

You smile, ruffling his hair. "I bet they were jealous, huh?" He nods enthusiastically, completely unaware of the tension surrounding you. You stand up, taking his hand. "We're heading out early today, bud."

Devin looks up at you, curious. "Why?" He glances at his teacher and waves at her innocently. Sort of like a distracted kid does when he sees something interesting.

"Just because," you say, trying to sound casual. You're not about to scare him with talk about threats and danger. "Thought we could get ice cream before everyone else gets out."

His face lights up at the mention of ice cream. "Really?"

"Really," you say, squeezing his hand a little tighter as you guide him away from the school.

As you begin the walk back to where you left your car parked, you can't shake the uneasy feeling settling in your gut. The docks tonight, the threat at the school, everything feels too close, too intertwined. But for now, you push it all down, focusing on Devin's excited chatter about the toy car and the ice cream you're about to get.

You can't let him know that in the back of your mind, you're already planning your next move.

\\\

The time to meet comes sooner than you expected. You actually hoped the end of the world came sooner than the time. But you're never that lucky.

You tuck your switchblade into your pocket, feeling its weight as a small comfort against the unknown of the night ahead. Your backpack only holds an extra pair of shorts and a shirt plus a towel but it feels heavier than ever. The docks have always felt ominous, but tonight, there's a heavier air of tension. You told yourself a thousand times you wouldn't let this life pull you under, yet here you are, standing on the edge of another dangerous deal, wondering if this will be the one where everything unravels.

The sound of water sloshing against the pier fills your ears as you approach. You keep your head down, scanning the shadows for any sign of Nick or the others. The knife in your pocket is more a safety blanket than anything—the saying "bring a knife to a gunfight" echoes in your head. The jokes about it don't ease your nerves about bringing it.

But you know Nick won't let you go any further with a gun on you.

You think of Devin for a second, his laugh earlier, the way he showed off that toy car like it was the greatest thing in the world. It grounds you and reminds you why you're still fighting to survive, even though every day feels like a deeper dive into something you never wanted to be part of.

When you finally spot Nick, leaning against one of the storage crates, you steel yourself for whatever's next. This time, you don't have the luxury of avoiding the fallout.

Behind him are two familiar faces. Isaac and Oliver nod in greeting, always the silent ones. They only join when the dealing involves more than just some guy in a van. Usually, it's one or the other, but never both. This must mean this is bigger than anything else.

Swim? Did Nick literally mean swim and not just as a cover in case cops were tracing them?

As you get closer, Nick pushes off the crate, his smirk spreading like he's enjoying watching you piece it together. "There she is," he says. "Our own Michael Phelps."

Isaac cracks a smile while Oliver remains stoic as always. Oliver's the more serious one between the two. He's military and he knows you are too. He gave you his word that he won't tell anyone about your background. He has a higher rank, but besides that, you believe him.

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes, glancing from Nick to the water. "What's the deal here?"

Nick crosses his arms, sizing you up. "Got some cargo that needs retrieving. Underwater." He flicks his gaze toward the others. "Isaac and Oliver will help out, but you're taking the lead. You're the one who said you could handle anything."

Your stomach drops. Swimming in the dark, pulling who knows what from the bottom of the harbor? It's not what you signed up for. But backing out now isn't an option. You hope this is worth more, to make a bigger dent in your dad's debt.

"Fine," you sigh, your voice steadier than you feel. "Let's get this over with."

"Hang on," Nick lifts his hand, stopping you from moving. "The idiots who lost our shipment aren't here yet." He flicks a gaze to Isaac.

Isaac only sighs before he pulls his phone out, turning to make a call. When he does, in the distance, you hear a ringtone.

You all turn to look in the direction it's coming from. You cross your arms, and despite your stance, you're ready for a fight if need be.

Your pulse quickens as you recognize the three figures stepping into the light. Charlie and the guy next to him? That's not too surprising. But Costa? A man with a family? The kind of man who should know better than to drag his loved ones into this kind of mess?

You can't shake the feeling of betrayal, the sickening realization that people like Costa, people with everything to lose, are still willing to risk it all. It hits too close to home, too much like your father—making choices that endanger those they care about.

"Great," Nick mutters, a mix of frustration and mockery in his voice. "About time you guys showed up."

You hold back, studying Costa's face. His expression is hardened like he's already made peace with whatever he's gotten himself into. But that doesn't sit right with you. Does he know what he's risking? Does he care?

"We got our swimmer and the idiots," Nick says, then gestures for the guys to lead the way.

Isaac steps forward and lifts his hand to stop the three of them from moving. Nick clicks his teeth, having forgotten about checking them for weapons.

Isaac motions for the three men to spread out, and you watch as he methodically pats them down. You can see the tension in their faces, especially Costa's as if they're all waiting for something to go wrong. Charlie, always a little too cocky for his own good, stands with his arms crossed, looking irritated rather than concerned.

Charlie's glare only sharpens, his jaw tightening as he looks at you like he's waiting for you to say something, to give him a reason to snap. But you've seen that look before—on people trying too hard to act tough when they're actually scared. You don't flinch, keeping your expression unreadable. The last thing you need is to give him any leverage.

You stand back, your mind racing. There's still time to walk away, to figure out a way out of this before it spirals any further. But you know the truth—there's no easy exit.

"Clean," Isaac mutters, stepping back after checking the last guy.

"Good," Nick says, his smirk returning. "Now, let's get down to business."

He gestures toward the docks, and you all start walking, the tension thick in the air. The water looks pitch black, and the idea of diving in makes your skin crawl.

You follow behind them, the man beside Charlie taking the lead with a quiet grumble. As you walk, the weight of Costa's involvement gnaws at you. He's got a family, a life outside of this mess, and now he's wading into dangerous waters. Mabel told you some stories about him—how he was always there for his kid, how he seemed like one of the good guys. Seeing him here, caught up in the same bad decisions your father made, hits harder than you expected.

You glance at him, his face set in grim determination, but his eyes betray him. Maybe he's desperate, like you, doing what he thinks he has to for his family. Or maybe, like so many others, he didn't realize how deep he was until it was too late.

As you reach the edge of the dock, Nick points to a boat tied to the pier. "All aboard," he says with that same smirk as if this is all a game to him. The boat rocks gently, but the darkness surrounding it feels anything but calm.

Your stomach tightens, and you hesitate for just a moment before stepping forward. There's no turning back now—not for you, not for Costa, not for any of them. You're all in this, for better or worse.

You all board and you wait as Charlie's brother, Tom, prepares to set sail. You drop your backpack and shed your shirt and shorts off. You hear Nick groan, probably expecting a swimsuit instead of a wetsuit. You don't know why, you told him you swim in wetsuits since it's what the Ranger gave you for training and some missions. It's more practical for what you need to do tonight, especially if you're going into the cold, dark water.

Once Tom finishes securing the boat, he gives a quick nod to Nick before starting the engine. The low rumble sends vibrations through the hull, and you grip the side of the boat as it begins to pull away from the dock. The city lights fade, swallowed by the vast blackness surrounding you.

Nick turns to you, no words are exchanged and you understand.

You nod, but your mind is elsewhere, replaying the earlier conversation. What if this goes south? What if someone gets hurt? The thought of Devin, his innocent smile, only deepens the pit in your stomach.

The boat rocks gently as you venture further out, the sounds of the docks fading into the background. The water stretches endlessly, dark and foreboding, and you can't shake the feeling that you're being pulled into something much larger than you anticipated.

Nick finally breaks the silence. "We're heading to the drop-off point. Stay sharp. We don't know what we might find down there."

You nod, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand, even as the anxiety builds within you. If everything goes according to plan, this could be a turning point. You just have to make it through the night unscathed.

You feel someone step beside you. You keep your eyes on the water, ignoring the light shining in the distance. The lighthouse signals home, but you can’t help but feel like it’s mocking you. Instead, you listen to the engine's roar as the boat continues to cut through the waves. You focus on the darkness, thrumming with an energy that heightens your senses. The smell of salt and gasoline mixes in the air, creating a cocktail of tension that clings to your skin.

"Just say your piece, Charles," you say, glancing at him.

His jaw tightens at the name you referred to as. You're in no mood to hear from someone in the same position as you how this is a bad place to be.

"Just..." he shakes his head, arms crossed over his chest. "Stay away from Mabel," he warns, his voice low but tense.

You raise your brow, understanding Mabel more about what she said last night. People like Charlie think they know what's best, but they don't see the bigger picture. "And what makes you think I'm the one dragging her into this?" you shoot back, your irritation bubbling to the surface. You would never drag her into this. "Mabel's a grown woman, anyway. She can make her own choices."

"I don't care how grown she is," Charlie snaps, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "She doesn't deserve to get caught up in your mess. You're playing with fire, and she'll get burned."

At his words, the match in you ignites, and you see why Mabel isn't with him anymore. You shake your head, anger mixing with a sense of frustration. You don't want to start a fight–not now, at least. "Get out of my face before I do something we'll both regret," you warn, keeping your voice low and steady. You don't need this right now, not when you're already walking a tightrope. But the fire in your chest is hard to tamp down.

Charlie stares at you, his jaw clenched, but he doesn't move. "I'm serious. Stay away from her," he says again like you didn't hear him the first time. His protective streak, while understandable, only makes things worse. He thinks he's doing the right thing, but he has no idea what's really going on.

"You think I'm the one pulling her into danger?" you say, keeping your cool as best you can. "Charlie, this isn't just about me. This world? It's a lot bigger than you think. And Mabel... she's not some damsel in distress. She can handle herself."

"I'm not risking her getting hurt again," he snaps, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of fear in his eyes. The way he said again makes you pause, but before you can ask what he means, Nick barks from the front of the boat.

"We're almost there! Everybody shut up and get ready."

As the boat approaches the designated area, Tom slows down, scanning the surface of the water. The moonlight barely penetrates the darkness, casting eerie shadows over the waves. You can feel the tension in the air, and it thickens with every passing moment. The tension between you and Charlie lingers in the air, but the focus shifts to the task ahead. You push everything else down, focusing on the job.

Nick shifts, leaning against the side of the boat, his voice casual as he talks to Tom. "Let's make this quick. We don't need any unwanted attention." He glances at you, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Hope you're ready to earn your keep."

You bite your tongue, suppressing the urge to snap back. Instead, you focus on Costa and Charlie, who are now exchanging worried glances. They may act tough, but you see the flicker of doubt in their eyes. If they're nervous, it only amplifies your own anxiety. The boat slows, the faint outline of the harbor's drop-off point visible in the distance. You pull on your wetsuit fully, the cold bite of the night air hitting your skin as you get ready to dive.

As Tom steers the boat toward the designated spot, you can't help but wonder what lies beneath the surface. What are you really getting yourself into tonight? The water looks so dark, so foreboding, and the thought of swimming in those depths sends chills down your spine.

Tom leaves the wheel and moves to grab something. He moves to stand in front of you, a rope with a hook at the end of it. He holds it out to you and you raise a brow.

"It's at the bottom, which isn't that deep, fortunately for you," he says with a shrug, waving the hook to you. You snatch it from his hand with a huff, your frustration simmering just below the surface. The weight of the hook feels heavier than it should, like a reminder of the mess you've waded into.

"You'll know when you find it," Tom adds, his voice casual, but there's something off in his tone. You can tell he knows more than he's letting on, but that's how these things go. No one ever says the whole truth. Not out here.

"Get in, get out. Don't make this harder than it has to be," Nick says, his smirk as sharp as ever. He hands you a flashlight, and by how thick it is, you're sure it's water-resistant. "We'll keep an eye out for any trouble topside."

Your gaze flicks back to Charlie one last time before stepping toward the edge of the boat. He's still watching, arms crossed, but there's something else in his eyes now—something that wasn't there before. Fear. Maybe not for himself, but for Mabel. And maybe even for you.

"Good luck," Charlie mutters, but his voice lacks the usual bite.

You know he means it but you don't bother to acknowledge it. You only huff with a nod then flick your gaze to Costa. He offers you a single nod, and you can only exhale a breath.

You face the water, your eye catching the lighthouse for one brief second before finally, you inhale a deep breath and you jump in. The water feels colder than it usually is, and you think it's because of the reason for this swim. You fight against the cold and the resistance and push through, ignoring the sting of the saltwater in your eyes. You reach for the flashlight and hit it a few times to turn it on. It switches on, and you move to shine it at the bottom of the ocean.

The beam from the flashlight cuts through the murky darkness, revealing the silty seabed below. The water is thick with particles, swirling lazily around as you make your descent. Your breath comes in steady, controlled bursts as you fight against the cold that's slowly seeping into your bones. Every second you're down here, the weight of the situation presses harder on your chest, but you push through, focusing on the task.

The light scans the area as you swim further down, revealing patches of seaweed and the occasional scattering of rocks. For a moment, there's nothing, just the empty, quiet vastness of the ocean floor. But then, something catches your eye—a shadowy outline partially obscured by sand and debris. It's the crate. Larger than you expected and slightly tilted as if it had been there for some time.

You swim closer, your hands trembling slightly as you reach out to brush away the sand covering its surface. The crate is old, rusted in some parts, and sealed tightly with thick metal bands. You can feel the weight of what's inside, heavier than you anticipated. This isn't just a routine drop. Whatever's in there, it's dangerous.

You've never dealt with this large amount of drugs before. A simple duffel bag or even an Amazon box size. But this size, you're positive it isn't just drugs. There's something more to it, something that makes your skin crawl. The crate is too large and too heavy for just a standard shipment. Your mind races, wondering what else you might have just dredged up from the bottom of the ocean. Weapons? Something more sinister?

You shake the thought away, focusing on the task at hand. The longer you stay down here, the more exposed you are. You finish securing the hook to the crate, tightening the line to make sure it'll hold. As you tug the rope, signaling to the others, the crate begins to shift, the water around it swirling with silt and debris. You watch it slowly rise from the seabed, tension winding tighter in your chest.

Everything in you screams to get back to the surface, but something makes you pause—one last look at the crate as it's pulled up. The weight of your decision presses down on you.

You swim upward, kicking hard against the resistance of the water, your body growing colder with each second. As you breach the surface, gasping for air, you see the crew on the boat pulling the crate onto the deck. The boat rocks under its weight, and Nick's smirk fades into something more serious as he watches it land with a dull thud.

You haul yourself back on board, dripping and breathless. The air feels thick with tension as you wring out your wetsuit, glancing at Nick. "What's in there?" you ask, but deep down, you already know you won't get an answer.

Nick gives you a long, calculating look before shrugging. "You did your part. That's all you need to worry about," he pats your shoulder, and you watch him wipe his hand on his pants.

Costa joins you and hands you your towel, smiling softly. You thank him quietly and wipe your face with it, eyeing Nick, Oliver, and Isaac all take a crowbar to pry the box open.

But you can't shake the feeling that whatever's inside that crate is going to drag you down deeper into this mess than you ever thought possible.

And when they finally open it, they step back, and before you, military-graded weapons are revealed, glinting under the faint moonlight. Rifles, grenades, and ammunition were all packed tightly and carefully in the rusted crate. Your heart drops into your stomach. This isn't just a simple drug run—this is something far worse, something that could get all of you killed.

Nick whistles low, clearly impressed. "Well, this just got interesting," he mutters, exchanging glances with Oliver and Isaac. They're all in on it, and the way they look at the weapons tells you this was part of the plan all along.

Your eyes narrow, gripping your towel tightly as your mind races. Weapons like these? They're not for small-time dealers or petty criminals. Whoever these belong to is playing a much bigger game, and now you're caught in the middle of it.

"Alright," you speak up, earning their attention. "You got your shit, let's head back."

Nick chuckles and shakes his head. He whistles and makes a circular motion. Tom eyes him before he walks off to do what the gesture means.

Tom heads back to the helm, starting up the engine as the boat lurches to life. The low rumble reverberates through the deck, but the tension in the air is thicker than before. Nick, Oliver, and Isaac exchange glances, clearly amused by your attempt to take control.

Nick walks over, his smirk widening. "In a rush, huh? You're not scared, are you?" His voice drips with mockery as if daring you to push back.

Your self-control amazes you. The amount of times you have held back on punching this guy square in the face surprises you. You've daydreamed about it. But never actually did it. Yet, at least.

You take a step forward, standing your ground. "I'm not scared. Just practical. We linger out here, and someone's bound to notice." Your voice is steady, but inside, your pulse pounds in your ears. You're in way over your head, but you refuse to let them see that.

Nick nods slowly, that smirk never leaving his face. "Smart. I like that." He turns toward the others, raising his voice. "You're on the docket for whoever gets the first sale."

You freeze at his words while he walks away as if he didn't just drop a bomb on you. His words hit you like a punch to the gut. First sale? You weren't expecting this, not at all. You thought you were just a cog in the machine—someone on the outside, moving pieces for others but not directly involved. Now Nick's made it clear: you're not just part of this operation, you're being pushed deeper into it.

The boat begins to move, cutting through the dark waters once again. You catch Costa's eye, and for a brief moment, he gives you a slight nod, silently acknowledging that you did the right thing by pushing to leave.

You glance back at the crate, now sealed once more, but the image of the weapons inside is burned into your mind. There's no telling where this will lead, but one thing is clear—you're in it now, whether you like it or not.

Just when you thought you could change your ways, your dad's past pulls you back into your old ways. The lighthouse mocks you again, its beam slicing through the darkness like a cruel reminder of the path you're trying to escape.

The lighthouse's beam disappears completely now, swallowed by the night, but its presence lingers in your thoughts. You remember the stories your dad used to tell you about lighthouses being symbols of hope and guidance. Right now, it feels like anything but.

[jinxhallows]

kinktober #o17 | glory

KINKTOBER 2023 || jinxhallows glory (praise kink) || chan x fem!reader summary: you and chan met as volunteers for the local cabaret theatre, working as stagehands, but when it blossoms into something more, and the temperatures drop below freezing, chan figures out a way to warm you up, and fast... warnings: praise kink, and all that entails, plot heavy, fluffy, lots and lots of praise, 'daddy' petnames, non-idol AU

word count: 4k masterlist - click here

The first time he let it slip, you two were still just friends.

You both volunteered as stagehands at the downtown cabaret theater, and you had been sent out to purchase some last-minute supplies. Your coat was dripping wet over your arm from running through the rain, a shopping basket hooked in the crook of your opposite elbow, and you held the phone to your ear, spinning around to decipher the location of the checkout.

"Did you get the safety pins?" Chan's voice came through the phone.

You nodded, even though Chan couldn't see you. "Yeah."

"And-"

"I also got the glue gun sticks, an extra pack of AA batteries, and a small can of black acrylic paint," you rattled off.

"Good girl," Chan responded, genuinely impressed.

At the time, he had no idea that his words had a much different impact on you than he could have ever imagined. The idea of him praising you under very different circumstances had ignited a fire within you, one you couldn't ignore.

The season progressed and Chan worked up the courage to ask you out for drinks and now you two are barely two months into a very new relationship. Still working together, now as hired staff seasonally, at the cabaret theatre, you two are now working together on helping out with the production of A Christmas Carol.  It’s two months until showtime, so you’re in the thick of things, managing a team of stage designers. Chan is managing the costume department and overseeing music direction. He has a brief gap between meetings, so he decides to surprise you by grabbing your favorite drink and muffin from the local coffee shop. After leaving a generous tip in the paper cup at the front of the register, he heads back to the theater through the brisk winter cold.

Chan enters the theater's workshop, finding you in your office. He closes the door behind him, greets you with a kiss and your drink, and then takes off his coat. As he hangs it on the nearby coat rack, you take a sip of the drink, savoring the warm, spicy flavors of your favorite spiced winter beverage. Opening the small, white paper bag, you take out your favorite muffin. "I needed this so badly. I was late this morning and couldn't grab breakfast."

"Why didn't you call? You know I could've picked you up," Chan says, sitting on the edge of your desk as you ease into your chair. You blow on your drink, preparing it for a sip. "Your car's been in the shop for weeks now. Any word on what's going on with it?"

You pause for a moment, taking a sip of your drink as you ponder how to address the issue. You've been avoiding Chan's questions about your mode of transportation since receiving the bad news. You're hesitant to reveal that you don't have everything under control, fearing it might push Chan away. After swallowing, you gather your thoughts and finally speak up.

"It's gonna be a while," you say, your voice tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

At this point, Chan has confirmed his suspicion that you're intentionally keeping this information from him. He nods, taking in your response, and glances at his watch. Fiddling with one of its links, he contemplates whether you've been together long enough for him to press you about these matters. He doesn't want to start an argument or intrude on your privacy, but he's genuinely concerned, especially with the weather getting colder and the distance you live from the theatre.

"That... doesn't sound good," Chan finally says, after you've taken another sip, looking back at you. You can feel the hesitation in his words and sense that he's holding something back. Your fingers nervously tap against your cup in an unknown rhythm that's stuck in your head. "Yeah, the engine, it's kind of... shot," you say, tapping the cup at a higher tempo. You find the lid of your cup more interesting than Chan's attempt to hide his shock. He knows he's not great at concealing his emotions, and he clears his throat, suddenly fascinated by his watch.

"Wow, that's... I'm sorry to hear that. Engine troubles can be expensive. You know if you need any help at all—"

"I'm just getting another car. I've been looking, but I haven't had the time yet, especially with the production coming up, so I've been taking the trains. I'm okay, though, Chan, really," you reassure him. Setting your cup down, you interlock your fingers, resting your chin on them, and offer him a disarming smile.

"Since you've had time to come visit me, I'm guessing you're ahead of schedule?" you inquire, relieved when you see his focus shift, steering the conversation in a different direction. 

For now, you've evaded his questions again.

"Like a well-oiled machine. In fact, there's a little bit left over in the budget to get the fog machine fixed."

"Chan!" you laugh, "How did you manage that?"

"A few people owed me a few favors. I know how much you wanted to give those Ghost of Christmas Future scenes more ambiance." Chan embraces you, and you eagerly rush into his open arms, hugging him tightly, the scent of his shampoo and cologne filling your senses. When you let go, he slowly turns you around in his embrace, his arms encircling your body, your back against his chest.

"Thank you for this. Oh, Hailey will be so excited to hear this, and Thomas, we'll have to space out the set for Act Three, but that's no problem. I—" You stop yourself, your hand on your forehead as you catch yourself from rambling again. Chan loves seeing you excited like this, so he never stops you during your enthusiastic outbursts. You turn around, your arms resting on his shoulders, and you kiss him, expressing your gratitude with a hundred silent thank-yous.

Chan finds the courage to speak out, his hands gently resting along your waist. "Please let me give you a ride, at least to and from here. You live outside the city, and I'd feel better knowing you're safe in this cold." He anticipates a rebuttal and adds, "Just for the cabaret. Whatever else you do is your business, but if you did need me for other rides, I'd be up for it—just needed to get that out there," nodding affirmatively to you and himself.

You decide to accept his offer this time. You had guessed wrong; it had never left his mind the entire time.

"Fine," you roll your eyes with a small smirk, "I just know you live in the city, and that's out of your way."

"It's not, honest," Chan stands up and leans forward, kissing your forehead. "You're really special to me." With a smile, he heads out and adds, "I'll meet you in the lobby after rehearsal."

"You're really special to me..."

Those words reverberate in your mind for the next four hours of work. They're louder than the hammering of nails into wooden boards, louder than saws cutting through plywood, and even louder than the timpanis in the orchestra pit.

As you work, your head down while distressing the paint on the side of a fake building, you can hear Chan stopping and starting the musicians, going over pieces meticulously. It's hard not to lock eyes with him when he glances over at you occasionally.

Unbeknownst to you, Chan is entranced by the way you bring a vision to life, ingeniously assembling pieces that leave him baffled. He observes you walking among other stagehands, adeptly adjusting a streetlamp, your gloved hands confidently resting on your hips, toolbelt hanging down. You point, shake your head, and oversee adjustments, stepping back and tilting your head, scrutinizing it from various angles before granting it a thumbs-up.

Every so often, you cast an inconspicuous glance over your shoulder, but Chan has already shifted his focus long enough to deceive you into thinking he wasn't watching. He splits his attention between you and the piano, directing the musicians, a sight he relishes.

At one point, a designer stands beside the piano with a partially costumed actor, waiting for the right moment to approach Chan. The designer holds up a piece of velvet red fabric against the navy blue costume.

"Was thinking maybe this material?" the stylist asks.

"Nah, not really, the blue is better against the gold buttons," Chan nods, providing his expert opinion.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Thomas' voice teases, breaking your focus and startling you from your reverie.

"Oldest one in the book. And corniest," you quip back.

"Don't do it, boo. I'd be distracted if Chan were mine too," Thomas remarks, and you both sneak another glance in Chan's direction. "He is a delicious piece of sweet potato pie, ain't he?"

You nudge Thomas playfully, and both of you head backstage.

As the day concludes, everyone gathers around for announcements and updates from the director. Afterward, people begin to disperse. You're embraced by hugs from Thomas and other crew members who've become like family. The holiday break is upon you, and some are leaving town to enjoy their vacation. The lobby teems with people, and amid the crowd, you spot Chan. You hear him chatting with others, and as he finishes, his expression brightens as he spots you.

You’re really special to me… You give Chan a warm hug. It's cozy inside, a welcome refuge from the cold winter winds outside.

"Ready?" he asks with a grin.

You nod, and together, you make your way to the exit. The bitter cold greets you as you step outside, and the wind feels like needles on your exposed cheeks. You tug your scarf up around your nose to protect yourself from the icy gusts. Chan holds you even closer as you both step out into the open, and he opens the passenger door of his nearby parked car.

The car's interior offers immediate warmth, and you welcome it with relief. Chan yawns as the silence settles in around you. He had a busy but good day, and now he's just as eager to hear about yours, especially after getting lost in watching you do your thing.

"Are you sure you wanna do this? Like, drive me all the way home?" you ask, your voice tinged with doubt.

"Yes, I want to drive you all the way home," Chan says with a chuckle. He starts the car, shifting it into reverse to back out of the parking space. "And then I want to walk you all the way to your door, and then I want to kiss you, like we're a couple of teenagers from the fifties."

You laugh at his sweet sentiment.

"I'm serious! You make this relationship thing feel like it's worth something, like it's something I can do... forever," Chan says. He starts to feel a little self-conscious about gushing and quickly dials it back. "You're just... really special to me." There it is again.

"Chan," you begin, and there's a moment of hesitation.

"Yeah?" Chan's gaze remains fixed on the road, but he's eager to hear your words.

"I love you," you say, surprising both yourself and him with the sudden confession.

Each quiet second Chan spends frozen on the road ahead makes you want to backpedal.  It’s too soon.  Are you dumb? He’s gonna think you’re crazy.  It’s not even three months yet.

“I love you too.” He says, and it comes out like his own kind of word vomit, at the tail end of his ruminating thoughts of whether or not you actually meant your statement.  Then he guilts himself for doubting the expression of your feelings. Chan would just like to get out of his own head for thirty seconds.

"Ok, now that that's settled," you say, your humor helping to break the tension, and you settle into your seat with a sigh. "I'm sorry I get so weird about you helping me sometimes. I just feel like you have your shit together, and I'm still trying to figure it all out. I know you didn't sign up to get a girlfriend with a bunch of problems—baggage."

Chan snorts, a mixture of amusement and relief. He's glad to hear that this is what's been on your mind, that you've been carrying a self-imposed burden. He appreciates the vulnerability in your words. Sometimes he needs to feel needed, especially in a relationship.

"I'm not sure what your definition of having my shit together is, but this version of me, isn't it," he says with a smile. "I didn't sign up for a girlfriend with a perfect life. I signed up for Y/N, and all that comes with her. How dare you short me the fries to my combo?"

You both share a laugh, and as the car settles into the quiet hum of the engine, you notice snow falling and sticking to the slushy roads as you leave the city behind and enter the suburbs. You check the weather forecast on your phone, prompting you to speak up.

"There's a frost advisory tonight, love," you muse. "You think you should stay over tonight? The roads are gonna be awful."

Chan hadn't planned on it, but he realizes he has nothing urgent to rush home to, and he's getting pretty tired too.

"Good idea."

It takes another thirty minutes, but soon, Chan is pulling into your driveway, turning off the car and walking you to your door just as he said he would. He waits patiently next to you, his hands warming in his pockets as he looks around at the snow falling and piling up, covering the black streets in blinding white reflected against the streetlights.

It's a perfect night to snuggle with a special someone.

You turn on the music, an old Aqualung album filling the former silence, making the blanket of white outside look even more magical. You had never found yourself enjoying the quiet company of another until you started dating Chan. It's a new experience for both of you since you can get lost in conversation for hours. But with Chan, there's no pressure to keep coming up with new topics. It's one of the many reasons why he enjoys your company. He can just be himself around you.

You come over to join Chan as he sits on the floor against the couch. He initially begins to unfold his crossed legs to make room for you, but you extend a leg over his, straddling him instead, holding two cups of hot cocoa in your hands.

"Oh, well hello, beautiful," he chuckles, taking one of the mugs from you.

The way he says it makes your heart flutter, and you can't help but tease him. You sip your drink, looking at him with a mischievous gaze. "There's just something about the way you say those things to me."

"What things, baby?" Chan asks, playing along. He knows what you mean, but he loves hearing it from you. "When I tell you how pretty you are? How I get caught staring at you at work at least five times a day by the other volunteers?"

You can't contain your giggles, and he takes your mug and his, placing them on the coffee table as he cups your face. "I can feel how hot your cheeks are getting too."

"Because!"

"Because why? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't list every reason why I've fallen in love with you to your face."

You bite your lip, realizing Chan's winning the playful banter. He holds onto your hips, shifting himself underneath you and readjusting, all while focusing on being romantic rather than all the nasty things he wants to do to you with you straddling him like this.

He kisses you, gently at first, and then more passionately. "For one, you are beautiful. Anyone with eyes can see that..." You notice the drop in Chan's volume and the edge his tone gains, making you crave him in ways you haven’t been able t0 have him yet. “I like that.” “Yeah?  You do? You should, ‘cause you’re a pretty girl, my pretty girl of course.” Chan's eyes linger on your lips, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in a single kiss that leaves both of you lingering, breathing heavily, your faces close.

"Call me your pretty girl again, and you might start something you can't finish."

"Who says I can't finish it, pretty girl?" Chan counters with a sly smile, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Chan is the next to initiate another kiss, drawing you into a passionate embrace. His hands trail up the bare skin of your back, hidden beneath your hoodie, leaving a trail of sinfire in their wake. You lean your head back with a gasp as he hums against your neck.

"Listen to those breaths you take, so sweet for me," Chan says, eager to hear more of your reactions. He sucks hard enough to leave a bruise under your collarbone, making you gasp in response.

"Oh my God, Chan, I—" You start to express concern, but the juxtaposition of his arousal and your own, both concealed beneath clothing, interrupts your common sense. He shouldn't be marking you up like this. You realize you'll need to wear a turtleneck or a collared shirt to cover your collarbone.  “B-Be careful-”

"I'm sorry, baby. You're just so intoxicating, you know that?" Chan manages to peel himself away from devouring you for a brief moment, a feat that takes immense self-control. "And you have the most adorable smile."

You try to hide your smile, but he pulls your arm away. "No, let me see it. Look at how you get when I compliment you. I can't tell if you love it or hate it, but it's damn hot seeing you get all shy like this. Makes me want to say more, see how else your body responds to me."

"I think it's turning me on," you admit, your voice slightly shaky, and a coy smile forms on your lips.

“You think?” Chan states more than questions, running his nose and lips against your chest, peppering kisses up your neckline. He sucks again, leaving another mark, this time closer to your jaw. You moan in response, and he tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck as he pulls you in for a kiss. Your lips bruise against his, swollen as he pulls back, looking up at you as if you were Aphrodite herself.

“Thank you, babygirl. I’m sorry I left a couple of marks.”

“It’s okay, you should leave a couple more.”

So Chan does just that.

You hold onto his neck as he moves forward, pressing you into the floor, lifting your hoodie up and sliding it over your arms so he can lay more open-mouthed, deliciously wet kisses down to your navel. He dips his tongue in, taking your piercing between his teeth. Your back arches, and he's going for your jeans, ready to unbutton them, but he stops, sitting up on his knees.

Chan knows if he goes any further, it would be akin to dragging him from quicksand.

He has to ask first.

“We’ve never gone this far,” Chan says, feeling somewhat awkward for not just outright asking you. You realize, of course, that you two haven't gone this far, but Chan wants to ensure you're comfortable. How much further are you willing to go? Chan can easily wrap things up right here, but the way you're writhing underneath his lips every time they press into your skin, leading further and further down south; Chan needs you to tell him otherwise. “I want to go further,” you say, your thumbs hooked into the top of your pants. “You told me you'd finish it, didn't you?”

You assist him in getting your bottoms off, and he nuzzles against the damp fabric of your panties, taking in your scent. “Had no idea you’d smell this amazing,” Chan says, pulling your panties aside to slip a finger in, curling it up. “You must really want me, hmm?”

“Mhm, I do.”

“Can you take more fingers, baby?” “Yeah, I can,” you nod fervently, vigorously, eager to feel him spread you further. Chan gets two more fingers inside of you, and he pulls the panties even further around your lips, leaning down to kiss and suck your clit. He enjoys the way his saliva catches the light as you buck your hips up.

“Prettiest pussy I've ever seen, babygirl. Are you going to let my cock feel it too?”

“Yes, please, daddy?”

Chan has to process the fact that you've called him this. He nearly short-circuits.

“You must want to be my good girl tonight,” he says as he pulls off his hoodie, tossing it aside and unbuttoning his pants.

“I'd give anything to be your good girl, Chan.”

“Anything?”

His fat cock slaps against your wet slit as he holds it firmly. “Anything.” you begin to twist your hips, attempting to grind in a way that will make him slide inside you. You're wet, it's spread everywhere, slicking your inner thighs and cheeks. All it takes is one good thrust, and he can –

“I want this, right here,” his firm taps stop you in place, and his eyes lock onto yours as he pushes his cockhead between your folds, stopping as soon as he's sheathed inside, feeling your walls begging for more. “You feel so wet, baby. Is this for me?” he asks, inching inside until he's halfway in. Chan wants to stop, but the sensation of your walls squeezing him proves to be too much, and he bottoms out inside of you.

“Yes!” You cry out, stronger and louder than you intended, spawning Chan to thrust again, rutting into you. He doesn't always go deep; in fact, he's stroking you at just the right angle to make you see stars as you drag your almond nails down his back, feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

“S-sorry,” you hiss, your head falling against the floor as you cum around his cock. “Keep it up, baby,” he encourages you, “You look so good taking me like this right now, so fucking good.”

"I-I look—"

His firm grip on the strands of your hair at the nape of your neck forces your gaze upwards, compelling you to meet his intense, smoldering eyes.

"Beautiful," he breathes as his thrusts take on a deliberate, measured pace. Each motion propels you closer to the precipice of another orgasm, and you can barely keep your eyes open. His hand presses flat against your head, angling it so you can witness the raw, primal connection between your two bodies. "You look beautiful, say it." You gasp and muster the strength to whisper, "Beautiful," as he introduces two of his fingers to your lips. You eagerly accept them, your tongue tantalizingly caressing the pads of his digits, still bearing traces of your earlier essence. He withdraws his fingers and expertly circles your clit with confident, steady pressure, evoking whimpering pleas from deep within you.

"Such a good girl," he praises with a low, smoky voice, pride lacing every word. "I'm so proud of you, baby. Can you cum again for me? I just wanna see that face one more time.” He wants to etch the vision of your blissed-out expression into the depths of his consciousness, ensuring it's the first thing he sees every morning as he awakens with thoughts of you.   Instinctively, you attempt to shield your contorted, furrowed brows with your hands, but Chan swiftly restrains your wrists, pinning them above your head with a powerful grip. His other hand intensifies its attentions to your clit, moving more vigorously.  He pairs this with shallow, accurate thrusts,each one striking your g-spot with unerring accuracy, causing you to unravel until you could think no more.  You’ve been fucked dumb, for the first time in your life.  As you gradually return to your senses, you struggle to find words or even make sense of how another human being can make you feel this extraordinary.

Amidst the haze of your post-orgasmic stupor, a lucid thought pierces through: sex is a potent, heady concoction, a force to be reckoned with.

Then, the second wave of awareness washes over you when you hear Chan's voice, close to your ear, whispering those two potent words, "Good girl." - fin

[peachiejeongin]

Mistletoe Mischief | Lee Know

Day 4 of the 12 Days of Staymas!

Synopsis: Feelings fly like snowflakes after a romantic encounter with Minho under the Mistletoe

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Fluff, A Twinge of Suggestiveness

Warnings: None!

Notice: Hello, my darlings! Welcome to Day 4! Enjoy some Mistletoe Mischief and make sure to go check out the other days! Also stream SKZHOP :)

It was one of those holiday parties you did not really want to go to but you also could not say no to. Your best friend had begged you to come, citing tradition and the promise of a, "magical night," whatever that was supposed to entail. Thus, here you were, bundled in your favorite Winter coat, a plate of cookies in hand, and a reluctant smile on your face as you stepped inside the warm, lively home.

The space glowed with soft, golden life from the string of fairly lights crisscrossing the ceiling. The scent of pine mingled with spiced cider, and laughter bubbled up from every corner of the room. It should have felt comofrting, but parties like this were not your social setting. You told yourself you would stay just long enough to avoid looking rude, then quietly slip out.

What you did not know what that Lee Know had been waiting for you to arrive all evening.

He had told himself not to look for you, that it was not a big deal if you came or not. But the moment the door opened and you stepped in, cheeks pink from the cold and light snowflakes melting in your hair, it was like the whole room tilted towards you.

Lee Know had been nursing a crush on you for what felt like forever. You had a sort of quiet magnetism, the kind that drew people in without you even trying. And him? He had been stuck to the magnet since day one. Every small gesture from you, such as your laugh, the way you bit your lip while you were thinking, and your little quirks, hit him harder than it should have.

Tonight, he had decided he would at least speak to you. Not confess, not at all, but at least close the gap that had been growing between how he felt and what he let you see.

You did not notice him at first, which gave him a few moments to collect his composure. You were busy chatting with someone near the snack table, laughing about how you had almost slipped on the icy walkway leading up to the steps. That laugh - it lit him up inside, warming places he had no idea had frozen over.

When he finally approached, it felt like everything in him steadied and unraveled at the same time.

"Having fun?" he asked casually, sliding in beside you. You turned to him, your eyes lighting up with recognition, and he swore his heart skipped.

"Trying to at least," you teased. "Thought dodging a hundred kids' toys counts more as a workout than as fun."

He laughed softly, his gaze lingering a moment too long on the way the lights danced in your gaze.

"You've got this," he responded. "Just make sure not to trip on any trains."

The conversation flowed easily, the way it always did with Lee Know. You liked how talking felt effortless with him, like he understood how to match your energy without pushing. What you did not know was how intently he was watching you, soaking in every detail like he was committing your image to memory.

That is when it happened.

"Mistletoe alert!" a boy named Seungmin called out, his voice cutting through the warm hum of the party.

Your head jerked up, and your stomach dropped. Dangling above you, right where you and Lee Know stood, was a sprig of mistletoe.

The room erupted into whistles and cheers, the kind of teasing energy that made your cheeks burn. You glanced at Lee Know, ready to laugh it off, but the look in his eyes made you stop in your tracks.

There was something different about him in that moment; it was something soft but unyielding, like he was holding himself back and deciding on whether or not to let go.

"Wouldn't want to break tradition," he murmured, his voice warm, welcoming, and low.

Your heart skipped as he leaned in, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek lightly; his touch was pressing enough for you to feel the warmth of his fingers against your skin.

"Don't be nervous," he whispered, noticing the tenseness in your body; however, his pulse was also racing.

Then, he kissed you.

It was not rushed or hesitant. It was deliberate and soft, as if he had been waiting for this moment and wanted to savor every second. His hand found your waist, steadying you, grounding you even. The party's noise faded into nothing, replaced by the quiet hum of your heartbeat in your ears.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of mischief and vulernability.

"Best. Tradition. Ever," he cheered quietly, just for your ears to hear.

The party eventually resumed around you, but neither of you fully rejoined it. Instead, you found yourselves walking home together, the snow crunching softly beneath your shoes.

"About earlier," Lee Know said suddenly, breaking the silence. His breath puffed out small clouds into the cold night. He had stopped walking and turned to face you; his expression was serious, but his voice was gentle as he spoke.

"I wasn't just playing along for the party, y'know."

"What do you mean?" you questioned, your breath hitching.

He hesitated, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides before he finally looked you in the eye.

"I've liked you for a really long time. Too long to keep pretending I don't."

The weight of his confession hit you like a wave, but instead of drowning, you felt yourself floating

"You mean that?" you asked, your voice barely audible.

"Of course I mean it." His gaze softened, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips.

You did not think; you just closed the distance between the two of you, a hand locking with his as you leaned in.

"Good," you mumbled. "Because I like you too."

His giggles were light but full of relief; he glanced up at the street light the two of you were currently standing under, only to see a familiar, white-berried plant.

"Well would you look at that," he uttered, causing you to look up where his gaze was fixated; you chuckled in disbelief, shaking your head before your longing stare shifted back to Minho.

"Wouldn't want to break tradition, right?" you inquired, mirroring his statement from earlier. Minho shook his head, agreeing with you.

"No, we wouldn't."

When he kissed you again, it was not surrounded by party goers or in the presence of cheers.

It was just the two of you, standing together in each other's arms while the falling snow created a quiet glow around you.

[glearyyyne]

Deja Vu Part 2

Part 1

Synopsis: Meeting you again was great for satoru as he began to sleep more just to meet you it began to be a problem in his real life, he tried to fix this problem but only ended up losing you.

Word Count: 6,025 Words

Warning: Angst, Sleeping pills, insomnia, mention of death, Imaginary friends (?)

Note: It's been a long time since I last posted I was just super duper busy with school and also because I got sick but thankfully I finished part 2 so enjoy!!!

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 "Today's training was so hard, I’m not even exaggerating. What the heck is that strength in those puppets that Yaga-sensei owns?!" Satoru ventured out on you as you listened to him, with your back against the tree while he was laying on your lap as Tomorrow was sleeping soundly and curled up beside Satoru.

"That's why you shouldn't judge them based on their appearance," you told him, as Satoru whined because he expected you to side him up.

As a month passed since you and Satoru met again and he apologized for forgetting the promise, you reassured him that it's fine, though he continued apologizing whenever he got the chance.

You noticed how he appeared at the usual time as it means he started sleeping more just to meet you. 

His daily routine became a rhythm: waking up, showering, eating, school, training, returning home, eating again, and brushing his teeth before heading to bed, just to meet you at the same place on the hill.

One day, you asked him, "Don't you think that the phrase 'you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy' sounds romantic?”

"Why?" Satoru asked, his curiosity piqued by your comment.

You smiled softly, feeling warmth in your chest as you gazed into his eyes. 

"Because it shows the anticipation and joy of waiting for someone you care about. Just like how I eagerly await our time together every day, knowing that seeing you brings happiness to my heart.” You answered.

Satoru's smile widened, and he gently intertwined his hand with yours, his touch sending a comforting warmth through you. 

As he leaned in, he placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand, eliciting a delighted giggle from you.

Satoru's heart raced with anticipation as he leaned closer to you, feeling the moment swell with tenderness. 

Just as he was about to close the distance between you for a kiss, the sound of a table slamming jolted him awake. 

Confusion clouded his senses as he looked around, only to see Shoko and Geto trying to suppress their laughter, while Yaga glared at him with disappointment.

Satoru realized he had fallen asleep in class.

Oh…

"Satoru!" Yaga's voice boomed, filled with disappointment. 

"This is the third time this week you've fallen asleep in my class. Do you think becoming a sorcerer entails sleeping through your studies?" He added.

Satoru's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology. "I'm sorry, Sensei. It won't happen again."

Yaga sighed heavily, shaking his head. "You have potential, Satoru, but you need to apply yourself more. Don't let your laziness overshadow your talent."

Feeling chastised, Satoru nodded solemnly, determined to make amends for his lack of focus.

As the lecture finally came to an end, Satoru, Geto, and Shoko walked out of the classroom together. Satoru couldn't help but groan in frustration as the teasing from his friends began.

Geto chuckled, nudging Satoru playfully. "Looks like someone was having sweet dreams in class, huh?"

Shoko joined in, giggling teasingly. "I wonder who you were dreaming about, Satoru. Maybe a certain someone or a wet dream?"

Satoru rolled his eyes, trying to play it off coolly. "Ha ha, very funny, you two. Let's just focus on getting through the rest of the day without any more embarrassment, okay?”

But geto and shoko shared a look of concern that satoru didn't notice.

"Satoru, you know we're here for you, right?" Shoko's tone softened, her concern evident in her words.

Satoru stopped walking, his expression puzzled as he stared at his friends. "What?" he replied, unsure of what they were getting at.

Geto stepped forward, his voice gentle yet firm. "We're just worried about you, Satoru. You've been distant lately, and falling asleep in class isn't like you. Is everything okay?”

Satoru laughed nervously, trying to brush off their concern. "Come on, guys, no need to overthink things. I'm just tired from all the training."

But Shoko's serious expression stopped him in his tracks. "We're not joking, Satoru. We're genuinely worried about you."

Satoru's laughter faded as he paused, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what could be wrong.

Satoru stayed silent for a moment before finally speaking up, his voice strained. "I'm... fine," he said, his words lacking conviction. Shoko was about to respond when Satoru suddenly quickened his pace, leaving the two of them alone.

Shoko let out a heavy sigh, watching Satoru's retreating figure with concern etched on her face. Geto gently patted her shoulder, offering a comforting gesture. "He's maybe just handling some heir duty, you know?" he suggested.

"Yeah, but it feels unusual to not see the usual goofy Satoru we know," Shoko replied, her worry evident in her voice.

***

Satoru's chest heaved as he slammed the door to his dorm room, exhaustion weighing heavily on him after his impromptu marathon from school. 

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he went to the bathroom, the fatigue evident in every step.

Turning on the faucet, he splashed cool water onto his face, hoping to wash away some of the weariness that clung to him. 

As he looked up into the mirror, he couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, a stark reminder of his recent lack of sleep. 

Satoru sighed, realizing that his sunglasses wouldn't be enough to conceal the evidence of his exhaustion. 

Making a mental note to buy some concealer, he reached into a drawer and retrieved the sleeping pills he had been relying on for the past two weeks.

The weight of his actions hung heavy on him as he stared at the pills in his hand, a silent admission of his desperation to meet you again, even at the expense of his own well-being.

Satoru's gaze lingered on the sleeping pills, his mind filled with conflicting emotions. The memory of Shoko and Geto's concern weighed heavily on him, their worried expressions etched into his thoughts. 

He couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at him, knowing that his actions were causing his friends unnecessary worry.

But then, a different image surfaced in his mind. 

It was you, smiling and waiting for him on the hill, your presence filling him with a warmth and comfort he couldn't find elsewhere. 

The thought of seeing you again, of basking in your company, pushed aside his doubts and fears.

With a heavy heart, Satoru tightened his grip on the pills, his resolve wavering. 

Ultimately, the longing to be with you won out. With a resigned sigh, he opened the bottle and retrieved a single pill, swallowing it down with a gulp of water.

As the pill slid down his throat, Satoru couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. But at that moment, the promise of meeting you again was enough to silence his doubts, if only temporarily.

Satoru moved quickly, stashing the bottle of pills back into the drawer before making his way to the mini-fridge. 

Retrieving a bottle of water, he took a few gulps to help swallow the pill more easily, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.

Once he finished drinking, he made his way to his bed, the exhaustion weighing heavily on him. 

As he lay down, he could feel the effects of the pill beginning to take hold, a gentle wave of drowsiness washing over him.

Closing his eyes, Satoru let himself succumb to the embrace of sleep, the promise of meeting you again lingering in his mind as he drifted off into dreams.

***

As Satoru slowly blinked his eyes open, he was met with the sight of you standing at the top of the hill, a warm smile gracing your lips. Tomorrow wagged their tail excitedly, adding to the joyous atmosphere.

Unconsciously, a smile spread across Satoru's face as he made his way toward you. 

Once he reached the top, you enveloped him in a tight hug, filling him with a sense of warmth and comfort.

With a mischievous smirk, Satoru scooped you up in his arms, twirling you around as you held tightly onto his shoulders. 

"Having fun yet?" he teased, reveling in the playful moment as you giggled and protested, urging him to put you down.

Gently, Satoru lowered you back to the ground, his hands tenderly cupping your cheeks as he gazed into your eyes with affection. 

Without a word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender, passionate kiss.

You responded eagerly, the kiss deepening as you lost yourself in the moment. 

But the sound of Tomorrow's whining broke the spell, causing you both to pull away, giggling at the interruption.

"Well, someone's feeling left out," you teased Tomorrow, kneeling to scoop them up into your arms. "Don't worry, Tomorrow, we won't forget about you."

Tomorrow's tail wagged furiously as they licked your face in excitement, their whines quickly turning into joyful barks as they enjoyed the attention. 

While laughing, you carried Tomorrow, feeling grateful for the joy they brought to your moments together.

Satoru smiled warmly at the sight of you and Tomorrow, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. You two always had a way of making him smile, no matter what challenges he faced.

Before long, the three of you settled onto the grass, leaning against the sturdy trees as you engaged in a heartfelt conversation about life. 

Satoru shared his dreams and aspirations with you, opening up about his hopes for the future. 

You listened intently, offering words of encouragement and support, while Tomorrow nestled comfortably between you, their presence a comforting reminder of the bonds you shared.

As the peaceful moment enveloped you, Satoru's words cut through the atmosphere. 

"This moment feels so good, yet I feel scared about what will come next," he confessed, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

Concern etched across your face, “Why?” You asked him.

"I don't know," Satoru replied, his voice heavy with self-doubt. "I don't think I deserve to be here, all happy while ignoring the sins I've committed as a sorcerer."

His words hung in the air, laden with the weight of his conscience. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, offering silent support and understanding as he grappled with his inner demons.

"I promise, we'll navigate through this together, no matter what obstacles come our way," you reassure him, your voice filled with conviction. 

As you caress his hand with your thumb, you convey a sense of comfort and solidarity, silently promising to stand by his side through thick and thin, come what may, whether it be heaven or hell.

Satoru smiled softly at your words, but all good things must come to an end.

Satoru's smile faltered as Tomorrow abruptly woke up from their nap, their ears twitching in alarm as they searched for the source of the disturbance. 

Before anyone could react, Tomorrow bolted away, leaving you and Satoru speechless in their wake.

"Tomorrow!" you shouted, instinctively moving to follow them, but Satoru gently grasped your arm, stopping you in your tracks. 

"Hey, calm down," he urged, his voice steady despite the concern etched on his face.

But you were frantic, your mind racing with worry.

 "I can't calm down," you insisted, your voice trembling with anxiety. 

"It's been a while since Tomorrow acted like this. Something bad will happen, I just know it. That's why they ran away, to try and hide somewhere safe.” You explained. 

Satoru was about to ask you when you managed to slip off of Satoru's grip and chase after Tomorrow, leaving him standing there in confusion, a sense of regret began to gnaw at him. 

He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to follow you or stay behind.

But as he watched you disappear into the distance, a sinking feeling settled in his chest. 

He knew deep down that he would regret not chasing after you at that moment.

Little did he know, that decision marked the beginning of a streak of bad luck that would haunt him in the days to come.

**

The following days unfolded like a nightmare for Satoru. 

With the passing of the Star Plasma Vessel and Geto's horrifying massacre of his hometown, additionally, with Geto being expelled from Jujutsu High, Satoru felt like he was drowning in despair. 

Each passing day seemed to weigh heavier on his soul, and he found himself struggling to cope with the harsh realities unfolding around him.

Unable to bear the crushing weight of the world on his shoulders, Satoru turned to sleeping pills more frequently, desperate to see you, even if only in his dreams. 

At first, he convinced himself that he was fine, that the pills were just a temporary escape from the harshness of reality.

But as time went on, he realized that he had become dependent on them, relying on their numbing effects to shield him from the pain of the world outside. 

And when he was caught, everything came crashing down around him.

Yaga's stern gaze bore into him as he slammed the bottle of sleeping pills onto the table, the harsh sound echoing through the room.

Satoru knelt before him, feeling a wave of shame and guilt wash over him as he realized the extent of his trouble.

Yaga sighed heavily, his hand rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "Satoru, I need you to explain to me why you're taking these medications when Shoko never prescribed them for you," he demanded, his tone stern.

Satoru cursed inwardly, cursing himself for leaving the door unlocked while he slept, which gave Shoko the advantage to sneak inside his dorm. 

‘If only I hadn't been so careless,’ he thought bitterly. He knew there was no escaping the truth now; he would be caught sooner or later.

Satoru met Yaga's gaze with a sigh, knowing he had no choice but to come clean.

"I just couldn't sleep at the right time with all of the mess happening these days, that's why I'm taking them," Satoru explained, carefully keeping the part about using the pills to see you.

Yaga sighed, his expression skeptical. "It feels like you're not telling the whole truth," he said, his voice tinged with disappointment.

"I am telling the truth," Satoru insisted, meeting Yaga's gaze with pleading eyes, hoping to convince him of his sincerity. 

Yaga sighed heavily, the weight of the decision evident in his expression. "I have no choice, Satoru, but to have you put on the monitor," he said regretfully. 

"We can't risk you obtaining more sleeping pills without our knowledge. You know how your clan behaves when they suspect something has happened to their heir. It's best to have Shoko come to your room periodically to prevent any conflict between your clan and Jujutsu High." Yaga explained.

Satoru sighed in defeat, knowing there was little he could do to argue against Yaga's reasoning. 

With a nod, he agreed to the arrangement, accepting the consequences of his actions.

Yaga dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and Satoru left the classroom with a heavy heart, walking through the hallway with an annoyed look, feeling the weight of his mistakes pressing down on him.

Satoru was feeling more stressed.

Shoko's heart raced as she watched Satoru emerge from the room, feeling relief and concern. Without hesitation, she hurried over to him, reaching out to grab his wrist and stop him in his tracks.

"What?" Satoru asked, annoyance evident in his tone as he turned abruptly to face her.

"Thank goodness," Shoko began, her words tumbling out in a rush of relief. "I was worried Yaga-sensei might expel you or something because of the pills-"

But before she could finish her sentence, Satoru cut her off, his frustration evident. "Why? Why did you come to my room last night?" he demanded, his voice tinged with irritation.

Caught off guard, Shoko nervously laughed, trying to diffuse the tension. "Well, I was just trying to check up on my friend. Isn't that wrong?" she asked, hoping to deflect his question.

Satoru scoffed at Shoko's response, his frustration bubbling over. "At night? Seriously? You could've come when it was daylight!" he raised his voice, his irritation palpable.

"It's not my fault that I was just worried about you, Satoru!" Shoko shouted back, her voice cracking with emotion. "I'm scared. I'm scared of what's happening to you after what happened to Geto. I-I didn't want to lose you now that Geto's gone," she explained, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"You could've died there, Satoru, if you'd taken more than one pill," Shoko added earnestly, her voice trembling with concern.

But Satoru seemed to dismiss her words, his frustration boiling over. "We wouldn't even be in this situation if you knew your place! This is my business, Ieri, and I don't need you to meddle in it!" he angrily expressed, his tone cutting and harsh.

Shoko flinched at the sudden intensity of his words, taken aback by the venom in his voice. It was the first time she had seen Satoru react with such anger, and it left her feeling shaken and hurt.

As Satoru walked away, leaving Shoko standing there alone, he felt a pang of guilt wash over him. 

He sighed heavily, realizing how his outburst had scared her, someone who had always been there for him. Despite his frustration, he knew he had crossed a line.

Rushing back to his dorm, he slammed the door loudly behind him, the sound echoing through the room. His hands trembled as he ruffled his hair in a disheveled state, his mind consumed by chaotic thoughts.

 The name of the sleeping pill echoed in his mind, tempting him with its false promises of escape.

With a sinking feeling, Satoru slowly began to realize the depths of his addiction to sleeping pills. It was a realization that filled him with both shame and dread, knowing that he was spiraling further into darkness with each passing day.

As Satoru struggled with his addiction to sleeping pills, he found himself haunted by memories of your sweet-drunk smile, a tantalizing allure that he couldn't shake. 

In moments of weakness, his hand would instinctively reach out as if trying to grasp onto your image, only to be met with empty air.

With a heavy sigh, Satoru covered his face with his hands, feeling the weight of his longing pressing down on him. He knew he needed to be patient, to wait for the night to come when he could hopefully find sleep without relying on the pills. 

But the knowledge that the pills had been confiscated only added to his anxiety, leaving him feeling helpless and vulnerable.

**

As Satoru found himself on the familiar hill, he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that hung in the air.

The atmosphere, usually filled with joy and comfort, now seemed to give a gloomy vibe that unsettled him.

Searching for you, Satoru's eyes scanned the surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of your familiar figure. 

His heart sank when he spotted you, leaning against the tree with your back turned to him. Tomorrow was nowhere in sight, adding to the anxiety inside him.

With cautious steps, Satoru approached you, a knot of worry forming in his stomach. 

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, and he feared what he might discover when he finally reached your side.

Satoru's heart sank as he knelt beside you, his concern growing as he took in the sight of your tear-streaked face. His eyes widened in shock as he noticed the swelling and blood on your cheek, his instincts kicking in as he gently wiped away the blood.

"What happened? Why are you crying? Where is Tomorrow?" Satoru's questions tumbled out in a rush, his mind racing with worry.

But as you slowly revealed what you were hiding, he was speechless. 

Satoru stared in disbelief as you slowly revealed Tomorrow's unconscious body, blood staining its fur. His breath caught in his throat as the truth sank in.

Tomorrow was dead.

As you gently placed Tomorrow's lifeless body on the ground and placed your hand on Satoru's shoulder, he tried to process the devastating turn of events. But his thoughts were interrupted by your words, leaving him in disbelief.

"Satoru, listen to me, okay?" you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "I know it's been fun to meet you here but promise me you'll stop coming here from now on."

The words hit Satoru like a knife, leaving him in shock. "Stop coming? No, no, you don't understand," he protested, desperation creeping into his voice. "You told me we could overcome this!"

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to explain. 

"I'm... I'm sorry. I can't fulfill that promise to overcome this, not when Tomorrow's gone," you sobbed, your grief overwhelming.

"No, we- we can find some way-" Before Satoru could finish, you spoke again, your words cutting through the air like a knife. 

"No! You don't understand, Satoru! I'm nothing more than just your imagination! That's why your maids or your family can't see me back then! You... you just can't accept that I'm not real!" Your voice cracked with anguish, delivering a cold truth that left Satoru speechless.

"I... I can't stop because this is my only escape from the world that's turned its back against me," Satoru slowly explained, his voice choked with emotion as tears streamed down his face.

You reached out, gently removing his sunglasses, revealing his shining blue eyes brimming with tears of pain. Your heart ached at the sight, knowing the depth of his suffering.

"I know it's hard, but... Satoru, you need to let me go, please," you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. Despite the pain it caused you, you knew it was the only way for him to not hide away from reality.

Satoru's heart pounded in his chest as he shook his head, refusing to accept what you were saying. But you insisted, your voice filled with sorrow and resignation as you apologized for what you were about to do.

"I'm sorry for what I will do to you Satoru," you told him.

Before Satoru could protest, you pushed him with unexpected force. 

His eyes widened in shock as he stumbled backward, expecting to feel the grass beneath him. But instead, he was engulfed by darkness, falling into a black hole that seemed to swallow him whole.

Desperate to call out to you, Satoru opened his mouth to scream your name, but no sound came out. 

It was as if his voice had been stolen again, leaving him trapped in a silent void of despair.

**

Satoru's heart raced as he woke up abruptly, disoriented and gasping for breath. Panic surged through him as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar white ceiling above him.

"Oh god, you're finally awake," a voice exclaimed, and Satoru quickly turned to see Shoko standing beside him.

"Why am I here?" Satoru asked, his voice trembling with confusion as he attempted to sit up, but Shoko gently stopped him.

"Stop moving, you've been in a coma for like 3 days," Shoko explained, her voice tinged with concern.

Satoru's eyes widened in shock at the revelation, his mind struggling to comprehend what had happened during those lost days of unconsciousness.

As Satoru processed Shoko's words, flashes of memories flooded his mind, each one more painful than the last. 

He remembered the broken look on your face, the tears streaming down your cheeks as you pleaded with him to stop coming back, to let you go.

The image of you holding Tomorrow's lifeless body, your grief-stricken expression etched into his memory, haunted him. 

He felt a heavy weight settle in his chest as he stared at his hands, grappling with the realization that maybe he had caused you so much pain.

What has gone wrong?

Shoko observed how lost Satoru seemed in his thoughts, his expression clouded with confusion. With a sigh, she gently drew his attention back to the present.

"I think you were consuming too many of the pills," Shoko stated, her tone laced with concern. 

"It's left you malnourished. I never thought I'd see a day when you'd be malnourished... Were you not eating enough food after school?"

Satoru blinked, surprised by her observation. "I do eat," he replied, his voice tinged with defensiveness. 

"I just feel really sleepy after class, so I head to bed early." Despite his explanation, he couldn't shake the unease that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Shoko eyed Satoru suspiciously, her intuition telling her that there was more to the story. 

"But you still managed to fall asleep in Sensei's class, even though you got enough sleep after class?" she pressed her tone firm.

Caught off guard, Satoru choked on his saliva, feeling caught once again. 

"Sensei's class is boring!" he blurted out, attempting to defend himself with a weak excuse. 

But even as the words left his mouth, he knew that Shoko saw right through his feeble attempt to deflect the conversation.

She only sighed and continued to discuss his condition and the need for him to stay in the infirmary room for the time being, Satoru listened attentively, though his mind was elsewhere. 

His thoughts were consumed by you, by the desperate need to find a way to fix what had gone wrong between you two.

Even as Shoko left the room to give him some rest, Satoru couldn't shake the weight of his guilt and the ache of his longing for you.

He glanced down at his arm, confirming what Shoko said that he was indeed malnourished. 

He knew he should be eating, but the thought of food left him feeling nauseous, his appetite suppressed by his overwhelming emotions.

Closing his eyes, Satoru tried to sleep, hoping to find solace in the dream where he could see you again and make things right. But in his dream…

He never saw you at the top of the hill.

**

Satoru groggily muttered, "Fuck, what day is it?" as he rubbed his tired eyes. 

It had been a week since he started isolating himself in the infirmary room. 

Unable to accept the reality that every time he slept, he couldn't meet you, instead finding himself trapped in a dark void that haunted him, he struggled to find rest, battling with insomnia.

Whenever Shoko tried to check up on him, he would turn his infinity on, shutting himself off from the outside world.

He couldn't bear the thought of anyone touching him, not when he couldn't distinguish between reality and the fading memory of you.

Satoru's head swiveled softly towards the door at the sound of the knock, but he remained silent, refusing to acknowledge Yaga's presence.

"Satoru, I heard what happened. I placed some food by the door so you can open up and eat," Yaga's voice filtered through the door, a note of concern evident in his tone.

"I know it's hard, but please let Shoko check up on you. We need to find the problem you're facing right now."

But Satoru shook his head, his hand instinctively covering his ear, blocking out Yaga's words. He had no desire to hear from him anymore.

Anxiety rushed through Satoru, overwhelming him as he felt desperate to see you again. 

His thoughts raced, his heart pounding with the need to escape the suffocating darkness that surrounded him.

In a moment of desperation, he remembered the stash of sleeping pills hidden away in one of the drawers in the infirmary room. 

Without hesitation, he got out of bed, his movements frantic as he searched through every drawer, his hands trembling with anticipation.

Each drawer he opened revealed nothing but disappointment, sending a surge of frustration coursing through him. 

As Satoru frantically searched through the drawers, his agitation growing with each empty one he encountered, he muttered under his breath, "Where is it?"

His voice was tinged with desperation, his hands shaking as he rifled through the contents, his heart pounding with the need to find the sleeping pills.

As Satoru's hands finally closed around the container of sleeping pills, a sense of relief washed over him. 

Without hesitation, he opened the container and tipped the remaining pills into his hand. 

He knew he should only take one, but the overwhelming desperation to see you again clouded his judgment.

In a reckless act, he swallowed all the pills in one swift motion, ignoring the warning signs flashing in his mind.

The room spun around him, his vision growing dizzy as he collapsed to the ground, the effects of the pills taking hold with frightening speed.

**

Satoru woke up to find himself lying on the grass in an endless field, he stood up to dust off the dirt on his clothes before he proceeded to shout.

Satoru's voice echoed across the endless field as he shouted you and Tomorrow's name, his desperation showed in every word. "I'm sorry, please! Don't just push me away like that!" he pleaded, his voice tinged with anguish.

Before he could continue shouting, a magical sound filled the air, causing him to turn around. His heart skipped a beat as he saw a glowing figure standing before him, eerily identical to you.

"[Reader's Name]?" Satoru whispered, his voice barely above a breath. But before he could reach out to touch you, the glowing figure turned and ran, disappearing into the distance.

Driven by an overwhelming sense of longing, Satoru chased after the figure, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched desperately for a way to reach that glowing person.

As Satoru continued to chase the glowing figure across the endless field, time seemed to blur together, the passage of hours unnoticed in his desperate chase. 

It was only when he felt the sun beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the landscape, that he realized how much time had passed.

Finally, the glowing figure slowed to a stop, and Satoru halted as well, his chest heaving with exertion. "Is that you?" he gasped out, his voice barely a whisper as he stared at the radiant form before him.

But no matter how much he strained to see, the figure's face remained obscured by the intense light, leaving Satoru with more questions than answers. 

The frustration and longing welled up inside him, an ache in his heart that seemed impossible to soothe.

The glowing figure approached Satoru, their touch gentle as they caressed his cheek, a bittersweet warmth emanating from their hand. As they spoke, their words pierced through Satoru's heart like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of undeniable truth.

"They're gone. They're just your imagination," the figure said softly, their voice echoing in the empty expanse of the field. "You need to let them go."

Tears threatened to spill from Satoru's eyes as he shook his head in denial. "No, no, it can't be," he protested, his voice trembling with anguish.

"They were created by your mind when you were a child, desperate for friends," the glowing figure continued, their tone filled with compassion. "Now that you're growing into adulthood, your mind is beginning to reject them, to erase them. But your heart clings to them, unwilling to let go. Please, forget them, or it will only hurt them more."

Satoru's heart felt heavy with grief as he grappled with the painful realization that you and Tomorrow may have only ever existed within the confines of his imagination. But even as he struggled to accept the truth, a part of him resisted, unwilling to relinquish the memories and the love he held for you both.

As the truth sank in, Satoru's heart clenched with sorrow, understanding now why Tomorrow had run away. 

Their instincts had sensed the impending rejection by his mind, prompting them to seek refuge in hiding.

"Will I ever meet them?" Satoru asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and resignation as he gazed at the glowing figure before him, though he already knew the answer.

"Unfortunately, I don't have the right to tell you that," the figure replied, their voice filled with a gentle sadness. "I only came here to see your determination to [reader's name]."

Satoru's heart sank at the confirmation of what he had feared. 

"They're in a better place for them now, don't worry," the glowing figure reassured Satoru, their words offering a glimmer of solace amid his anguish.

Satoru's lips curled into a soft smile at the thought of you and Tomorrow finding peace, but it was quickly overshadowed by the overwhelming flood of tears that spilled from his eyes. With a heavy heart, he sank to his knees, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a crashing wave.

As he cried out in anguish, consumed by the pain of loss, he didn't even notice how the glowing figure slowly began to fade away, their presence fading into the darkness of the night. 

Alone in the dim light of the setting sun, Satoru whispered his apologies into the empty expanse of the field, his words lost to the vastness of the night sky.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry [reader's name]," he murmured, his voice filled with a raw, unspoken sorrow that echoed into the darkness.

I’ll never forget you [reader’s name]...

I’ll never ever forget you, I promise…

I’ll never… who am I not supposed to forget?

Satoru's head snapped up, a surge of panic coursing through him as he struggled to recall the name of the person he shouldn't be forgetting. 

"No—no, who— who was it?!" he exclaimed frantically, his mind racing in a desperate attempt to grasp onto the fading memory.

With trembling hands, he opened his palm and used his finger as an imaginary pen, trying to spell out the name of that person. 

But try as he might, all he could manage was to draw a line, his efforts futile as the name slipped further and further from his grasp.

Tears stung his eyes once more as the weight of his forgetfulness settled upon him, a crushing reminder of the fragments of his reality slipping away. In that moment of vulnerability, he felt utterly lost.

Satoru cried out in pain as his head throbbed, feeling like it might explode. He tried to stand up but stumbled and fell again. 

Everything spun around him, and he couldn't find his balance. Before he knew it, he was falling into the darkness once more, feeling helpless and scared he screamed, but his voice disappeared into the black hole. 

He felt like he was disappearing too, lost in the darkness and unable to find his way back.

***

"Satoru!" The voice called out urgently, pulling Satoru from the depths of unconsciousness. His eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry as he struggled to make out the figures hovering over him.

As his surroundings slowly came into focus, Satoru realized he was lying in an infirmary bed. Shoko and Yaga stood beside him, their expressions a mix of concern and relief.

"Satoru, thank goodness you're awake," Shoko exclaimed, her voice filled with worry. "We were so worried about you. You almost didn't make it. You overdosed on the sleeping pills, but thankfully, you survived."

Yaga nodded solemnly, his brow furrowed with concern. "You gave us quite a scare, Satoru," he added, his voice tinged with relief that Satoru had pulled through.

Satoru's heart clenched with guilt as he listened to their words, the realization of how close he had come to losing everything hitting him like a punch to the gut. 

“I’m sorry” Satoru's voice trembled as he muttered a heartfelt apology, tears welling up in his eyes once more. 

Shoko and Yaga moved closer to him, offering words of comfort and reassurance, their presence a source of solace in his moment of vulnerability.

Throughout the day, they spoke to him, their words a steady stream of support and encouragement. 

But despite their efforts to console him, Satoru's mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of the person he had been trying so desperately to remember.

Who are you?

[savorypink]

focus!

you are everything. he's just alex.

smut.

"You said I'd get an A. What is this?"

You toss the paper in his direction as if it's contaminated. The B minus scribbled in the corner of your paper marks the beginning of the plague of imperfection threatening to riddle your body. If you held it any longer, your fingertips would've turned black. Alex merely stands there, but his heart begs to jump out of his chest.

"Well, uh," He stammers, admittedly cutely. "I had other papers to finish, and you asked me to do yours while I was busy..."

Your lips curl into a pout, and Alex feels his jeans tighten. "So, I'm not a priority?"

"No, no, no! It's not like that!" His voice is drenched in panic while yours remains coated in molasses. "I just...had things to do, y'know?"

"Important things? More important than me?"

You bat your lashes this time, and his knees turn to pudding. "Never! No!"

Opening your laptop, you ignore his reddening features and click on your e-mail. "Here's what's going to happen: I'm going to ask for a rewrite, and you're gonna write me a brand new paper—one that'll get me an A. Understand?"

He nods frantically, but you don't see with your head buried in your computer. "Verbal confirmation, please." You reiterate. 

"Whatever you say."

You peer from your laptop to smile at him, sweet and warm as spring. "You're the best, Aly."

Alex granted every wish you pleaded for whenever you waved a manicured finger. Your friends had been kind enough to direct you to him at a campus party. Timid and reeking of cigarettes, he fumbled with his flirting as he tried to keep his eyes off your chest. Your gaze proved too intense for him, and it wasn't like you were listening anyway. You gathered that Alex majors in monkeys and is in a band called Literature. Something tells you that you've mixed those two things up, but as long as he agreed to do your work, it didn't matter what he did on the side—or what he did at all. You ruled the pristine hallways of your university while he meekly sniffed the breeze in your wake. You've given more attention to the gum underneath your shoes.

It plucks your nerves when you realise he's still standing there, but you open your Myspace and begin scrolling. "You can go now. You have a paper to write."

Your brutal, icy shoulder only makes him eager to restore your warmth, but Alex isn't partial to a little bit of snow, and you could be a blizzard at times. "Well, I did write your paper, and um—"

"And what?" Your fuse is as short as your skirt.

His shaky fingers fiddle with the white sleeves of his hoodie, nausea and lust churning and warming his stomach. "You still haven't paid me. And there's the paper before that..."

And the one before that, too. You haven't been holding your end of the bargain, and the poor boy is within his right to complain. But, oh, you're just so busy! Sports, school, getting your nails done—okay, you may have told a tale or two to get out of doing your assignments, but what did he think making a deal with you would entail? If anything, he should be thankful for the attention. You don't have time to waste on boys.

Closing your laptop, you rise from your desk. As you take two steps forward, Alex takes two timid steps backwards until you've backed him into your bed.

"But Aly," you whine as you straddle him, "I told you I was busy that day! And I don't pay you to write papers that don't get me an A. In fact, I think you've been slacking."

Alex begins fisting the pink bed sheets in abundance, the sweet scent of your cotton candy perfume inescapable and dizzying. "No! 's not true!"

You pout with faux sympathy as your fingers work on unbuckling his belt. "Yes, it is! I'm worried about you, actually..." You cup his chin and turn his head to examine the acne along his jawline. "You're breaking out like crazy! Stress causes pimples, you know!" You exclaim. 

Your touches, while minimal and featherlight, nearly make him cream his pants. His large Bambi eyes look up at you in spectacle and guidance as you pull him out of his jeans, the leaky tip of his cock barely grazing the silk of your panties.

"My poor Aly, you're stressed 'cause you're not focused!" You pull your panties to the side before sinking onto him. Your hand clamps over his mouth before he can let out a pathetic, low groan. "You gotta stop worrying about everything and focus on me!"

"Y-yeah? You think?" His body melts into the sheets as your core swallows him whole, his eyes painfully rolling behind his skull. "Fuck, you're so tight..."

You take his lifeless hands and guide them under your skirt. His clammy palms restore to life to squeeze the supple flesh of your ass while his hips needily buck into you, a plea for movement on your end. Since you're feeling generous, you peel off your shirt and toss your bra to the side. Part of your deal was that he only saw you naked when your grades were above average. You begin with small, courteous bunny hops on his dick, and Alex is already mewling, his nails digging deliciously painfully into your skin. You hiss, and you remove his hands from your ass and place them on your chest, bouncing on him harsher and faster.

"You're not even looking at me! It's like you don't even care!" Your frown is prominent in your words, and you know he'll light himself on fire if it means you'd never have to cry. His eyes creak open, albeit slowly. The sun outside your window casts warm rays onto your form, your skin and hair shimmering brightly without effort, evidently celestial. The only thing you need is a halo.

"Huh?" His tone is reminiscent of how he stares at you, love-drunk and in a blissful, rose-coloured haze. Your bouncing slows, and Alex quickly throws a fit, languidly and whiny, squeezing your breasts needily. Your core tightens its embrace around him, your slick dribbling hot and slippery down his weeping cock. The bed creaks as you dip to his eye level, the bubblegum flavour of your lipgloss mere kisses away as your lips ghost over his trembling mouth.  

"See? You don't even listen!" You wail as you glide your pulsating walls up and down his cock at a snail's pace. "I've been so kind and sweet to you, and you can't even get me an A. I thought you liked me. I thought you'd be good for me."

His grubby paws claw and clutch at your skirt while his legs kick wildly at nothing. The movements rumble your bed, and your meticulously positioned stuffed animals fall to their sides. Your name spills from his mouth like a broken faucet, and your hips show no sign of speeding despite your core being enamoured by his desperation. "I'm good! Promise!"

"I know, baby. You just need to focus!" You kiss his flushed cheek before towering above him again. "So, what are you gonna do for me?"

You resume your bounces, and Alex rejoices with a hoarse moan. His large hands enclose your breasts to toy with them roughly, squeezing and kneading until your nipples respond in stiffness. "I'm gonna write you a paper. A good one! Really good..."

You give a roll of your hips as a courtesy. "Good boy."

His sloppy hips meet your bunny hops halfway as something sticky and hot begins to trickle down his cock. Your ride gets slippery and, to your annoyance, messier. You mask your desperation with aggression and bounce faster, your hands full with the sweaty fabric of his polo shirt. A particular spot within your core is struck, and your walls quiver around him in surrender, and, just this once, you moan. Alex stumbles in your wake, weakly moaning as he splotches your walls with his warm, irritatingly gluey release.

His whining and pants persist as you climb off his lap, ricocheting off the walls of your small dorm. You give him one last once-over as he liquefies into your sheets, churning into a puddle of pathetic lust and goo. You dig through your chest underneath your bed and fish out a fresh pair of panties, pulling off your worn ones and tossing them across Alex's deflating and expanding chest. He flinches cutely.

"For your troubles." You snort as you pull on fresh panties. You don't realise how low on panties you are until you pull on your shirt; perhaps you've been too generous with your handouts.

"They're doing dorm inspections today, so don't overstay your welcome. And clean yourself up, please?" you instruct, pulling on your jacket before throwing your gym bag over your shoulder. "I'd invite you to my practice, but I know you'll be busy with my paper tonight."

"Yeah..." He huffs. "Busy..."

You swing the door open and smile. "You're the best, Aly."

As you exit, your descent downstairs halts when you pull out your phone to relay a message your favourite puddle of goo.

There's Clearasil and pimple patches in my drawer. Thank me later. x

Opening the outside door, you remember one more thing.

And I want my panties back!!!

[hoshigray]

https://www.tumblr.com/hoshigray/725915919672573952/sit-down-for-this-one-alright-how-bout-a-gigolo

your fic with toji i love it sm 🫶🫶🫶 BUT how would he react if reader tried someone elses services cs her friends told her to try it out…

noonie, you're so real for this bc damn, why the hell didn't i think of that :OOO lol hope you like this, hon~~ spin-off of this → ☆;

cw: gigolo! Toji x fem! reader - smut so minors DNI - dumbification - toji being jealous/possessive bc duh - cunnilingus (f! receiving) - clitoral play (biting/grazing + pinching) - degradation (toji calling you a whore and slut) - scratching (f! receiving) - impact play; pussy slaps - prone bone + full nelson position - pet names (baby, mama, princess) - new playboy may or may not be Gojo *shrugs* ;) - just Toji fucking you dumb, lol - mention of drool and tears. wc: 1.6k

What should've happened today was Toji enjoying a night to himself because tonight he's seeing a client he hadn't seen in a long while. Nothing wrong with spending an afternoon with an old acquaintance, specifically when it entails a good night of getting his dick wet for a thick sum of cash. Besides, he planned on seeing you afterward — his little sweet thing — stopping by your place and spending the night.

It's funny, isn't it? He met you because of this little hustle of his, and here he is fawning over you like some dumb schoolboy. It makes him feel a bit of a wimp, catching feelings for a customer? That's rookie moves. But he couldn't care less; long as he gets to see your darling smile and fuck the ever-loving shit out of you once per week, all is good in the books.

Seeing and swooping you off your feet later tonight is what was supposed to happen. That's all he was thinking about exiting the hotel room after his client left and paid for his services as promised. So, why the hell were you the first person he saw out of the room? Your face utterly petrified when you turn to see him with another man's arm dropped over your shoulders. A familiar man — another playboy who seemed elated to be around with you. Toji could assume the worst from what he was seeing. Oh, hell no.

What happened today was meant to be kept between two people — you and this new playboy. It came out of fucking nowhere when your friends crowding you about this "new guy in town," elucidating how handsome and pretty the guy is and how great he was in bed ("I'm telling you, Y/n, you really outta try him out!" "No, for real though. Like, here's a pic of him we took right after he ate me out! Don't you think he has the most gorgeous eyes~?"). You had to admit the young man was charming, but that didn't necessarily mean you wanted to do anything explicit with him. So, why did your friends schedule a night with him for you!?? Still puzzled over the fact, you can't seem to answer.

Regardless, you did have sex with another guy today — another Gioglo at that. It wasn't anything serious between you two, just casual sex for money. Plus, it was a pleasure to hang out with him, as the guy seemed fun to be around! Even with his dark shades on, the brightest thing was his dashing smile. However, a deep part of yourself felt guilt over the charade because you haven't had services with anyone else other than Toji. Sure, you and the older man aren't in a labeled relationship outside of an escort and his client. But still, he's the only man you've been intimate with. He's the only one who knows your body more than you, what you like, and how to turn you on. You were his favorite after all.

To be in the hold of another man just felt wrong...That's why your eyes go wider than golf balls when you unexpectedly bump into him when leaving your hotel room with your new one-night stand. Oh, fucking shit...

It all happened relatively quick. One moment, Toji snatches your wrist and pulls you off the young playboy, having you follow his storming march to the hotel room he just left. The next moment, you're gasping for dear life with Toji propping you against a wall, his head buried between your legs dangled on his shoulders, and his mouth ravishing your soaked folds.

"Ahhh!!Ahhhh!! Toji, too fast, please st—Ohooo!!!"

"Shut the fuck up," he says coldly, giving your clitoris a light bite before giving it a slow lick. You jerk and shiver at the tease. "Stay still, or I'm droppin' ya."

Toji smacks on your chasm, a scream leaving your lips, and you just know the others next door heard. And a pinch to your clit results in incoherent babbles, drool pooling in your mouth drips down your chin.

It doesn't stop there. All your clothes discarded to the floor, he has you pinned on the bed by your shoulders, your legs trapped between his, and his pelvis hammering down on you. Forced wails erupt from your throat with every hash rut to the ass, your slit clamping onto him with every graze to your sweet spots. You grip the sheets from his vigorous pace, tears coursing down your hot face and staining the cream cotton pillowcase.

"...Ahhhaaa!!Nnmmph!! Ohhhhfuckingshiiiiit!!" It isn't the first you've had Toji drill his cock into you with a harsh cadence. Yet, with how each fierce and snappy thrust turns your mind to mush, being pinned to the mattress as your breath gets snatched away, you knew long before that what Toji was doing to you was different than all the other times you've had sex. A lot more aggressive — a lot more deadly.

And the older man doesn't falter at all, nope. If anything, your cries only fuel his drive even more, a grin lifting his scar on the right of his lip. "Hmm, what's wrong, baby? Not fast 'nough for ya?" You open your mouth, but your words are comprised of euphoric wails. Ticked, Toji smacks your ass, and a yelp escapes your sore body. He comes down to your ear while grinding his hips on your ass, choked shrieks are muffled by the pillow. "Hey, I'm talkin'. Hmm? You thinkin' bout that other fucker's dick inside ya, huh? He fuck ya real hard like this?"

"N-Nmmm....Noooo, I—OhhhhJesusssss...."

"You what?" A sharp thrust to your chasm prompts you to howl and your eyes roll back, too fucked out of your mind to know how loud you are. "Heh, y're lookin' real stupid right now. I bet you can't think a fuckin' thing with my dick in—Mmmm! fuck....Grippin' on me hard, actin' like a real whore, princess." More abrupts hits to your ass as his nails dig to your bare shoulders; the pain coincide with the pleasure you're experiencing has you seeing stars.

He fucks you like this for what feels like an hour, your ass and pussy hot from the constant contact of his pelvis and balls smacking deep into you. The feeling of his dick being practically the only thing rotting your mind.

But you don't get rest just yet, though. Towards the end, the sun is completely down, the city lights are displayed from the hotel window, and your ecstatic moans still fill the room. Your back is to his chest, your legs pulled back to your chest by his arms and forcing you in a headlock, while his intense ruts return and his cock churns your spongey insides. Here is where you've given up restraining yourself, letting Toji use your body as his plaything, tears and drool painting your face into a gorgeous mess.

"....Ohhoooo, Ahhhoooo—Hmmmm," your brain is too long gone to think proper sentences, your mouth sprouting out nonsense. It all humors the man beneath you, his gruff chuckles vibrating your back balanced on his chest. "Soooo deeep — sosodeeeep..."

"Feelin' good there, mama?" You only respond with a euphoric hum, another snicker from the older man. "Too fucked outta're mind to answer me. Lettin' another man touch this pussy; you take dick from everybody, huh. What a fuckin' slut..." He pushes his length upward to your hole. Come leaking from you, and a white ring around the base of his dick is evidence of your session. "Hnngh! But I made ya like that..."

"....Fuuuuck, Tojiiiii, don't stooop!!" You cry out to him with gritted teeth, your haze only worsening with his cock brushing up on your G- spot precisely. "Ohhhhhh, right there, right thereeee!!"

"Mmmph—Ohhhh shit," the way your cunt contracts around him almost makes him give in to another orgasm, biting on your shoulder to compose himself. "....Shit, shit, shit, so fuckin' tight, baby...."

The hot air and thick musk of your buddies get to your head, your head ringing and pounding. Screams grow higher with every stroke, and the cold shivers crawl up your spine. It's almost here. "Toji, Tojiii, I'm gonna cumm—hic—sooocloseee!!"

Toji sneers once more. "Yeah, you are. Cumming is all y'r pretty, dumb brain can think about." And with that, his pace increases speed, drilling your walls with his veiny girth. It all electrifies your nerves, your breathing off the rails, and your climax slapping you hard with the deep thrusts he gives you.

With a cloudy mind and a mindless smile, your slit flutters on Toji's length beautifully. Too enraptured with the blissful sensation to worry about the spit streaming down your puffy lips. And it doesn't take long for Toji to be under the same spell as you, his rhythm falling back with the spill of his load inside you. His brows trenched while pumping into you, his balls pulsing with your velvet walls.

Heaving bodies soon fall into a tranquil state, your breathing finding its way into a steady flow. Finally, Toji permits your body and mind to relax from his relentless hold, releasing your body from the full nelson and gently sliding your tired body next to his.

He wipes the saliva from your mouth with the back of his hand, his hooded jade eyes never leaving your fatigued ones. "Hehe, sorry 'bout that, baby. You just feel too good to share."

You purr into his touch, his hand cupping your cheek. "Too good that you'd break my ass?" He barks an exhausted laugh at your remark, a tired giggle fleeing your lips.

"For you, I'd break anyone else that thinks they can have you." Toji kisses your temple.

"And my ass?"

"...Only if I'm the one breakin' it." You playfully hit his abs, and another laugh leaves the older man before you two sleep in each other's warmth.

want more like this? plz send me more thirsts ♡

[therantingsage]

"....look, I know you don't believe me. But they want to meet you officially?" You say.

Loop's eyes crinkle in some kind of skepticism. "Do they, now?"

You nod.

A half-laugh, fake-sounding. "And what would that entail, exactly?"

You frown a little. "Well. I mean, they can control my body? So they can talk for me? Say hi?"

You hear Mira enthusiastically volunteer, which you expected to be honest. She was probably the best one of them for Loop to meet first. She was polite and non-threatening in most circumstances.

Loop looks you over. "Honestly. I don't really see the point. I don't really need to meet any of them, it's not like they matter to this situation." But they raise their hands in surrender, anyway. "But if it gets you to drop this, I'll humor you, Stardust. Send them in, or whatever!"

The more time that passes, the more frustrated you get with their continued disregard and disdain for your family. It hurts. It hurt before they hitched a ride in your brain, and it surely hurts more now, that they're all here to hear them say it.

Nonetheless, you pass the reigns to Mira.

It feels so weird, every time they do this. You have to fight the impulse to take back control of your limbs, because muscle memory and common sense dictate that your limbs moving on their own was not a good thing in the slightest. But the more you let them do it, the more used to the sensation you become. The easier it becomes to just....let go.

And still. When your mouth opens, your voice but her diction, it still feels alien. "Hello!" She greets. "I'm Mirabelle, but you...kn-know that already. Or maybe you don't, they didn't tell you who was coming out to greet you. I, I wanted to thank you, for being there for Siffrin when we weren't. We were so scared when we learned what he was going through. If he'd been alone....I-I don't even want to think about it."

She extends your hand towards them, and you feel your mouth curve up in a smile. "So it's very nice to meet you! We'd be honored to get to know you as well as they do!"

Loop's eyes dart, between your face and your outstretched hand, but they don't move a muscle. They don't move for a long, long while, even. Completely silent, and stone-faced.

And then they steeple their hands, something dark in their expression. Darker than you'd ever seen on them, really. "I've changed my mind, Stardust! I have absolutely no interest in continuing to play this game with you!"

Mira speaks for you again. "I-it's not a game, we're really here-"

"Really, stop being deluded, Stardust! I mean it! I'm not going to keep encouraging this behavior in you! I've already done it enough, clearly!" Their eyes widen a little. Too wide.

On reflex you steal back control of your body, shoving Mira back into the back. Something about Loop's expression frightens you. Something in it like mania, or a hysterical smile. You aren't sure how you can even tell without a mouth to judge. You just...can.

"Loop-"

"I'm only going to say this one more time, alright? So commit it to memory, since you've clearly got enough space in that head of yours to fabricate four whole other personalities~"

Like every other helpful tip message they give, the words superimpose themselves into your mind. You feel your family flinch from the sheer volume of them.

[Every time you talk to me about the family in your head, I will not give you any aid for the rest of that loop! I'm not getting paid for this, so I'd appreciate you taking my time seriously!]

You

breathe in.

You breathe out. "Fine. I understand." You stand from the root, and walk away without another word.

Loop huffs. You ignore them.

You've got four other people helping you figure this out, anyway.