#y’all know i’m diving head first

[tonycries]

SOOO ANXIOUS

Synopsis. When he’s a 10 but the pulI-out game is non-existent.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, breéding, breaking the condóm, overstím, Gojo’s powers going haywire, spítting, cúmplay, NÉEDY BOYS, marathon séx, chokíng, SLIGHT dàddy kínk (Nanami’s), jealousy (Sukuna), first times (Choso), limitless, exhíbitionísm (Sukuna), true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k (wild omg)

A/N. Ty to that one anon for reminding me of Gojo and his limitless, I just had to. Hope y’all have a lovely day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - When life gives you…

Dammit, Toji knew he should’ve looked over your shopping list closer. He knew he should’ve spent just a little longer at the convenience store searching for that special brand the two of you always used - the only one that could fit his massive size - instead of rushing home like a madman to fuck you sloppily into your silken sheets.

He knew. 

But, well, feeling that thin excuse of rubber that was once coating his achy cock snap open - crashing his raw, leaky tip right against the bottom of your syrupy pussy, bruising - he certainly didn’t have any regrets either. 

“Whoops.” you hear Toji’s ragged, unapologetic huff against your ear. Lips quirking up into a smirk when you’re looking up at him in question with those cockdrunk eyes of yours. “Broke the condom again.” he explains. 

And as if to confirm, he’s sliding a calloused palm right down to the bulging area of your slit, sliding his eager fingers along the edge of that glossy piece of tattered rubber, “Now what do you suppose we do about that, ma?”

What?

And it’s all you can do to whirl your glassy gaze down at where he was already admiring. The sinful sight of your ravaged pussy winking lewdly up at you - puffy lips spread to bulge about his angry, red cock. Beading a sheen of your sweet sweet juices down his length, being swallowed up greedily. His raw length. 

“Toji–” you hiss, digging the balls of your heels at those dimples down the bottom of his spine, making him hiss in delight. “You bought the wrong ngh- brand of condoms? Again? This is the fifth time this week.”

And oh he found it so cute when you’re mad at him like this, pretending like your absolute slut of a cunt didn’t just get wetter at the feeling of his cock throbbing against your walls. Milking him so good that he can’t help but let his addicted hips move in lingering thrusts, jamming into your g-spot over and over like a little apology. 

He’s humming, “Accident- ouch!” 

The thick head of his cock pulses even deeper inside you when you give his muscled pecs a bratty smack. “Fine fine- I may have uh- rushed jus’ a bit.” As if to wipe away that tiny bit of guilt in his words, Toji’s hips are thrashing harder into you, merciless. “But heyyyy—” he leans down to drag his lips against your own in a messy kiss. “Y’know what they say, when ngh- l-life gives you the wrong pack of condoms, give her a creampie.”

You narrow your eyes, “Y-you’re such a-”

But within a millisecond, he’s dragging his swollen cock out of your snug cunt - barely, just enough to pull off those flimsy dredges of whatever was left of his condom after those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your poor pussy. 

“I’m jus’ being resourceful, woman” Toji chokes out when you bite down on his collarbone at the audacity. Before plowing on, words dripping with faux-apology, “Ahhh what to do, such a shame I forgot to get the r-right condoms. Whatever shall we do, ma?”

Before diving straight back into your heavenly entrance, purposefully taking his time to rub against every hidden nook and cranny of your walls. Toji throws his head back, defined abs bowing into you, “I know. How about this time insteada pulling out, you finally let me cum inside?”

And you knew Toji had such a mean cock, and fucked you even meaner. But fuck this was ridiculous. 

“Ngh- T-Toji!” you’re keening with every heavy smack of his balls against your stinging ass, being rocked further and further up the drenched mattress with the force of his sharp jabs. “You’re lucky you feel too ngh- good this way.”

“Heh, see? What did I tell ya? Now fuckin’ come-” Thick fingers wrap around your hips, pulling your back down, down, down - deep to spearhead his cock into your sweet spots. “-here-” Rendering you unable to escape, unable to do anything but be splayed out like such a slut while he’s molding your cunt to the shape of his length. Frenzied. Crazed. The complete opposite of the smugly gentle kisses he presses to your teary cheeks, “-and take my actual cock like a good girl, doll. Lemme make you a mama.”

The thought has you letting out such pitiful whimpers, thighs quivering. “Hah- m’gonna cum. M’so close, Toji-”

Gripping him so tight you could feel the outline of his prominent veins, the sensitive spots along his shaft. Toji’s brows furrow in concentration, letting out a sultry drawl of words, “Yeah? Is this pretty pussy gonna cum?” He reaches down to toy a long index around your neglected clit, sending your eyes rolling back with a moan. “Gonna be stuffed full of my seed like she’s supposed to?”

You can only get out a few bleary nods, and usually Toji would tease you a little more - have you begging and crying. But right now he’s so fucked. 

The feeling of your squeezing walls too tight, the crashing of his sensitive tip against your spongy g-spot too much that the only thing he can grit out is a low, “Then cum- cum f’me, doll.”

 He feels it before you realize you’re cumming, just running on wave upon wave of pure electricity running down your spine while Toji ruts into you so animalistically. Reeling back only for a few sloppy, solid half-thrusts - because you couldn’t bear to separate too much from your cunt - before spilling into you.

And - oh, he was only mad he didn’t do this sooner.

“Oh this is the stuff- fuuuuck this- is- what I needed- take it.” Thick rope upon rope of his hot cum, decorating your saturated walls. So much that it was gushing out of you with each pump of Toji’s hips fucking it deeper inside you - the thought of pulling out not even daring to cross his mind. Oozing. Messy. “Take it all. Make me a daddy again, why don’t ya.”

After all, he did pick the wrong brand for a reason, right?

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Family matters!

The office can be loud - given, it’s hours past everyone’s shift and you and Nanami were the only ones cooped up in his office working overtime right now. 

But still, the office can be loud - which is why Nanami Kento isn’t exactly sure he hears you correctly the first time. Not until you keep looking at him with that sultry, determined graze, spit-glossed lips moving to repeat, “I want a baby, Ken.”

It only takes three seconds for him to lock the door and shove you against the cool mahogany of his desk, bunching up that cute pencil skirt of yours at the waist. Which, Nanami thinks, unbuckling his expensive pants to swipe his angry tip between your slobbering slit, is three seconds too late in his opinion.

“You really wan’ me to disrespect your cute cunt this way, my pretty lil’ wife?” he’s purring into your ear, just a soft reassurance before he absolutely fucking ruins you. “Because m’not going hah- easy on you this time.”

And maybe you’re a genius, maybe you’re an idiot who doesn’t know what’s good for her - because you flash him a grin, “So are ya gonna fuck me or not?”

Soon enough, that grin was turning into your jaw sagging open lewdly, drool trickling down the corner of your lips with every bullying squeeze of Nanami’s massive cock inside you. Stretching out every inch of your gummy walls around his swollen girth. 

“Oh God—” you’re moaning, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each harsh ram. Wiggling hips mindlessly torn between running away and fucking yourself back onto your husband’s bludgeoning cock for more. 

He’s shutting you up with a gentle suck on your candied lips, humming into the kiss, “Jus’ ‘Ken’ works fine, my love.”

And it takes you a few seconds to register his remark - a few, dizzying seconds of being spearheaded by Nanami’s fat tip. Roaming, heavy balls smacking the fat of your ass when he angles his hips just right to ruthlessly kiss against that one sweet spot he knows you love so much. Swirling his furious tip around to find-

“Oh fuck!”

There.

Merciless. Nanami Kento is absolutely merciless. 

And all you can do is scramble your jittery fingers towards his desk, his forgotten work documents, him - your body is moving before your heated mind when you reach behind to drag Nanami in closer by his yellow, speckled tie. 

All the way until his plump lips were mere millimeters away from yours, “I actually think ‘daddy’ would work better, no?”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

He was completely and utterly fucked. 

It takes the both of you by surprise when a large hand comes up to your neck, thick fingers squeezing hard around your pretty throat. The cold metal of Nanami’s wedding ring burning into your skin when he shuts up those filthy words of yours. 

“Ken-”

“Shut up. Sh-shut up, darling I’m- fuck I’m-” is all Nanami’s able to stutter out before his hips grow sloppy. And you could feel the way his twitching cock massaged at your plushy walls, the wet sounds of skin-and-skin becoming more and more languid before-

Nanami doesn’t think he’s ever cum this embarrassingly fast in his life. Never did it only take him a few more mean, calculated thrusts into your heavenly cunt until he’s spurting thick wisps of his seed. Coating your poor pussy in a sheen of his cum - of him. 

He whimpers, bending his long legs at the knees to grind up deeper into your, feeling the warm slosh of his own seed inside. 

“Fuck Ken–” you wheeze, throat raw from the unforgiving hand still around it. Vision spotty and you feel like floating - or maybe that’s just the way Nanami had you lifting off the ground with each relentless ram. “Gonna be the ngh- fuckin’ death of me.”

“Hah, you’re gonna be the hngh- death of me.” he groans, free hand coming up to slide his glasses further up his nose. Shit, if Nanami angled his head just right he could see that sinful, sinful trail of cum down your legs. Glistening under the dim office lighting, forming a little pool right at that crevice between your thigh. “Yeah oh fuck- m’not getting out of this alive. Not with you, darling.”

And oh you should’ve known. Should’ve had an inkling at the way Nanami was still achingly rock-hard between your legs. At the way he innocently grazes a thumb across your sloppy hole, pooling the heady mix of cum and slick on the pads of his fingers - before shoving them right back in. Skirting around that depraved shaft of his to squeeze whatever dredges of seed he could get his hands on back inside you.

It was making such a mess - with each bullying pump of Nanami’s fingers at your dripping cunt, cum was gushing out of your wrecked hole. Slow, and torturous. 

Exactly the way he was moving back inside of you now, reeling his toned hips back to smash right into your sweet spots. Dragging that orgasm out of you - out of him, “Gotta make sure it takes, right?”

Suddenly, you have the feeling that it’s going to be a long, long night working overtime.

♡ GETO SUGURU - The egoist

“C’mon, gorgeous.” that low, satiny purr has your cunt quivering traitorously. “You’re really gonna hold out on me like this?”

It takes every bit of willpower in you to tear your eyes from the absolutely sinful sight below you - because Geto Suguru was so unfairly pretty - even with his wrists tied helplessly below you to the bedposts. So delicately flushed a cute pink from his high cheekbones, right down to his thick, sobbing tip. Looking up at you through half-lidded, glassy eyes, peeking from under his long hair. 

Hair you thread through to gather in a harsh grip, “Mhm, Sugu, if you’re gonna be so cocky when m’letting you cum inside me then I jus’ hafta- ngh!”

Your foolish little threat is dying in your chest when your beloved boyfriend is wrenching his hips up. Having you teetering precariously, clinging onto his sculpted abs when he uses them to fuck his cock up into you slobbering cunt. 

“Hah!” his dark eyes widen in delight at the sight of how readily your slutty cunt was making way for him. Puffy folds being split apart to swallow every fucking inch he gives. “Just look at what a filthy lil’ cunt you have, my girl. So needy despite all your talk.”

“Th-that’s cheating.” you tug on his soft silky restraints. Eyeing the way they were firmly digging into his milky skin. “Maybe I ah- won’t- let you-”

Another ragged jut of his hips, the thick curve of Geto’s swollen cock spearing into you, pulsing against your sensitive spots until you couldn’t think. He’s gasping, “No!” Letting out such a pained grunt when your spongy walls cling onto him like a second skin. “No no no no- jus’ fuck m’gonna have you begging for my cum.”

And if Geto had his hands untied you just knew he’d be gifting your sobbing cunt a punishing smack! So that’s exactly what you do - letting out such a teasing whine of his name when you slap the pads of your fingers down across your sopping slit. Stopping right below your clit - exactly the way he does.

“Still real cocky, aren’t you?” you purr, so sultry and low, sending a fresh wave of precum painting at your bruised cervix. 

“Fuuuck- you little minx. This won’t- ngh-” he hisses. “You’re gonna fuckin’ regret holdin’ out on me.”

There it was again - that little accusation. The same little mantra that’d been falling from Geto’s glossed-over lips ever since you tied his wrists together and straddled him after a few too many goading comments on how you won’t be able to “handle him” if he came inside.

Scoffing, “Yeah yeah that’s what a sore loser-”

Fuck, it seems he’s well and fully intent to not have you run your pretty mouth. 

Pushing past your feeble little ring of resistance to draw at your honeyed walls. Running his angry tip along each and every sweet spot he’d so meticulously mapped out before.

“I warned you, gorgeous.” His breaths are wrenching out so strained, low groans leaving him with how your plushy walls were trying to suck out something delicious. “Warned you it was- ngh was gonna be too much. And now look at you.” He’s chuckling, so utterly unapologetic. “Fucked dumb and taking my cock like the slut you are. How’d you feel about that, huh?”

It’s so embarrassing. 

Embarrassing how good you were feeling, stars behind your eyes every time Geto is smashing deep into your core. Embarrassing how you can barely even hold yourself up at this point, instead collapsing right into the valley between Geto’s pecs, lips drooling with need. 

Embarrassing how you can’t even answer his question.

And this is what makes him smile - full and content. Craning his head down to kiss softly at your slack lips, “That’s what I thought. Now beg for it, beg for my cum.”

“Wh-what?” you snap your eyes open. Moaning lowly at the drag and pull of his fat shaft, stretching out your narrow channel with each ram of his hips. Angling your boneless body just right for those tufts of black at his toned base to rub against your clit so obscenely. 

“You hear me. Or you can’t hear as well as- ngh- speak now, huh? Beg for it.”

“No.”

Geto falters his hips slowly at this, “Beg for it.”

“No.”

Of course, this only makes him stop completely. Rolling his eyes in such a languid way at your clear disappointment, “Then fuck me yourself if you wanna be so mouthy.”

The result is - for Geto - the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen. With you whining, tears springing to your eyes as you try to ride him as best you could. Yearning, craving for those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your sweet spots. Ass jiggling when it smacks against his pelvis lazily, hips stuttering up and down his veiny cock, weeping your needy juices as you sob, “No- please I take t- ngh- back. I want your cum, Sugu. Please?”

“That’s more like it.”

And no sooner are the words out of your lips before Geto’s thrusting up into you haphazardly. Brows furrowed, abs screaming with the strain of just how hard he was pounding you. Again. And again - more to teach you a lesson, more to drive the two of you insane. Again and again and-

It only takes a few more of those lingering, ruthless kisses of Geto’s leaky tip against your g-spot for the two of you to be cumming. 

Your gummy walls convulsing, sucking up every wet glob of cum shot against them, against your womb. Geto’s full, heavy balls filling you up in mere seconds with how much he was painting your poor cunt white. Dripping down the side of your pussy lips, creating such a mess all over his base that he just can’t help but-

RIP!

Your back is hitting the mattress before you know it, Geto’s large figure looming over you- how? When did he-

“Ya really thought those would stop me from-” he takes the time to spread open your trembling legs, spying down at the mess of cum leaking out of your gaping hole now. Thick, gushing dredges of him - all him. He’s shuffling down, hot breath hitting your abused cunt, “-having my favorite meal?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Made for this.

Slam!

You’re both jolting - you at the deafening sound of your best friend’s hand slamming down on the headboard, making it creak at the sheer power. Him at those sultry little words that had just left your glossy lips, sending all the blood in his body right down to where he was buried between your shaky legs. 

Before you can react, Choso’s looming his face closer - eyes wide, jaw sagging open, voice just a whisper when he asks, “What did you say?”

And through it all, it’s a wonder you’re managing to catch your breath. Because Choso’s unforgiving cadence was barely letting up, pushing in long, solid strides of his hips to drag his fat cock against the plush of your gummy walls. “I-I said since it’s your first time n’ I wanna make this special, you should-” Looking him right in his pussydrunk eyes when you say, “-cum in me, Cho.”

Just like before, that honeyed request pulls out such a visceral reaction from him. His dewy eyes scrunch shut, thick tip kissing so deep inside your womb when he twitches animalistically. Sliding across to mark you from the inside out. 

And somewhere in your fucked-out mind, you register the snap! of wood breaking above you, Choso’s biceps flexing with movement. “Fuuuck, baby, you can’t hah- s-spring that on me like that.”

It was true - a few too many bad sex scenes on movie night, and a few too little lingering touches left you wanting more. Wanting to steal away your cute best friend’s virginity once and for all, and then some.

“Why not?” you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at him. Making his poor jaw drop even further, hips stuttering forwards sloppily. “No no no no, Cho. You’re my best friend and you deserve the best.” you’re tutting, tightening your legs around his sculpted waist. Preventing any escape - as if he could ever want to run away from this heaven. “I need you to cum in me.”

It happens too fast for you to even register - before you know it, two large hands of Choso’s are hoisting your limp legs up onto his toned shoulder. Upper half bending down, down, down until he had you folded in half in such a mean mating press. 

“F-fuck don’t-” he gasps out, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the lewd change in angle. The curving divot of his head brushing up against that hot g-spot of yours, raw with so many hits. Greedy eyes locked on the way your puffy cunt was swallowing him whole. “-don’t say that! Was enough havin’ you offer your pretty lil’ cunt f’me to fuck.”

Smirking, “Cum in me, Cho. Please?”

And fuck Choso was sure he was going to pass out this very second. Collapse on top of you like an utterly fucked ragdoll. But, no - and he doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing - instead, his heavy balls are squeezing sloppily, making such a mess of you inside when he streams out thick spurts of cum.

Eyes ringing, vision spotty when he’s pouring such heavy amounts to paint your cunt white. It’s all he can do to breathe, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck m’cumming m’sorry m’cumming m’cumming- ah- ngh-”

“F-fuck yeah give it t’me.” you murmur heatedly, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth with each pump inside reaching your lungs. Sending dredges of seed slobbering down Choso’s throbbing length, forming a pool at your inner thighs. “Give it all to me, you’re doing so good for your first time, baby.” 

Your honeyed praises stick to him like a veil of sin, having him shudder out little whines of your name. “No m’not!”

“Hm? What’re you fuuuck right there- what are you talking about? Yes, you are.” you thread your fingers through his long, damp locks. Pushing away the dark strands sticking to his forehead to connect it with yours, “Doing so good f’me.”

Choso’s breaths come out in feverish puffs, and despite having velvety strings of his cum sloshing inside your walls right now, he was still hard. Still painfully hard with each overstimulated shove into your dripping cunt. 

“Dreamt of this for so long.” he drawls, ragged. A soft thumb coming down to draw on your clit, “Been wanting you for so long n’ you have no idea. M’ jus- fuck your pussy is just too perfect, my girl.” That little confession has you clenching around him so tight. Forcing Choso to hike up a knee to stretch your thighs so far apart it burned, letting him accelerate his hips. “Too much that I can’t keep it- hah- together. S’like she’s made f’me. Jus’ wanna fill you up until you can’t take it- ngh-” 

A particularly harsh kiss to your sweet spot has Choso’s seed oozing out of your puckered hole even more. So slutty in the way that you were still clamping down to milk the soul out of him all through it. 

His pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight. Movements languid, hypnotized when the erratic, slender fingers on your clit move down. Swirling at the treacled ring of cum around his hilt, where your pussy lips were mashing against his toned pelvis. 

You have half the mind to wonder if Choso even realized what he was doing - whether he was even breathing - as he raises those fingers to your mouth. Immediately parting your kiss-bitten lips to suck his glossy fingers clean.

The eager, lewd squelches from above and below have him pushing your body up to thrust even harder - hissing, “Oh you really ngh- made f’me.”

“Well then…” you start, muffled. And your tone already has Choso gulping. Waiting on your every word. “Why don’t you cum inside me again to make up for it and the broken headboard?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - HEIR

Now, it’s not often that Ryomen Sukuna feels threatened. Him? The infamous king of curses? Don’t make him laugh, everyone knows that you’re his pretty lil’ slut, his favorite human.

But it’s times like this, with your pretty self sat where you belong - right on his fat, achy cocks, your limp legs dangling off his luxurious throne, crying and begging for him to just move - he’s reminded that maybe not everyone knows. 

“Pleeease, Kuna.” you’re dragging out of your throat, voice wrecked with need. “Jus’ need to- to cum!” And he thinks it’s so adorable how you’re trying to fuck your hips up and down on his lengths, matching tips so thick that they rut against your sweet spots without even trying. 

It’s useless, with the tight, black-nailed grip he has on your stuttering hips. Making such a mess slobbering down his cocks.

“Hmmm, I dunno if you deserve it, brat.” his smug facade is laced with something else - something dangerous now. “After all…” he’s nosing down your racing pulse, breathing in as if he could smell the lust in your blood. “-you looked real cozy with that minister from earlier.”

You’re gasping - whether from his words, or from the way his curved shafts twitch so furiously inside you, you’re not sure. 

“Wh-what?”

He scoffs, “You know what m’talkin’ about.”

And you did - unfortunately. Hazy mind showing off shreds of memories from that meeting you accompanied Sukuna to earlier today. The one where, despite being dangling off his arms the entire time, one unsavory new minister managed to throw a few crass remarks your way. Something about how good you must be and how he’d give you an-

“Heir.” It’s all that Sukuna is spitting out before thrusting up into you. Deep, slow. Like he knew you were thinking about that little altercation today and wanted to fuck out every thought of it out of your pretty lil’ mind. “That little scum had the audacity to talk to my woman about how he’d have an heir by now. As if I’m not fucking you right.”

Two thick fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, spitting into your open mouth, “I’d have killed him if you didn’t fuckin’ stop me, human.”

“B-because-” you’re crying out, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each smash of his fat tip against the bullseye of your g-spot, the other marking up your cervix. “I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of-”

“So what if I caused a scene?” Sukuna’s sharp canines are nipping down on your wobbly lower lip. The curve of his dicks stretching you so thin. Taut. Until your clingy walls molded to his shape. “Do you deny me the right to defend my woman? My future heir?”

The sopping wet sounds of your poor hole being ravaged are almost too loud for you to hear his last words. Almost.

You gasp, face lolling up from where they were pressed up against his sculpted pecs. “Wait- future heir?”

And oh how Sukuna loved the sound of that on your lips. A raw groan curling up from his throat, biting his lip while he fucks you so thorough. So purposeful. 

At this point the only thing you’re managing to get out are pitchy whines, being bounced up and down like some sextoy on the king’s cocks. His massive girths tattooing your walls with each and every twin vein and ridge.

“Mhm, ya like that?” Sukuna grins, slacking down the throne to jut his muscled abdomen upwards. “Wan’ me to breed this cute cunt with my heir?”

The only response he’s getting are your nails raking red, angry marks down his tan skin, which clearly wasn’t enough for him.

“I asked you a question, brat.” This earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your ass, his nasty cadence only speeding up. You’re barely even lucid anymore, just being slid along his towering lengths. “Use your words n’ fuckin’ tell- me-”

“Hngh!” you’re screaming out at a particularly harsh jab against your g-spot. Big fat tears rolling down your cheeks when you mewl, “Yes! Yes I wan’ it so bad, ngh- for you to fill me up. Breed me until- ngh until everyone knows.”

The honeyed grin you’re given is something you know doesn’t bode well, Suknua’s eyes darting somewhere behind you. But that’s the last thing on your mind while he spits a thick glob of saliva on your cunt. Goading, “Well if you’re that desperate, woman.”

And it’s dizzying - if you thought Sukuna was fucking you thoughtless before then you weren’t ready for right now. 

“Fuck.” he grits out. “Yes that bastard got one thing right- I just wanna- oh-” And then he’s spitting, another steady stream of saliva right on your struggling cunt. “Wanna breed this pussy- until they know m’the one that fucks you right.” He’s rubbing a palm along your stomach, drawing a line where he could feel the bulge of his swollen cocks. “Have you round and glowing with my heir.” Moving up, up, up to cradle your bouncing tits into his greedy mouth. “Have these hah- filled with milk. And have you filled with me. They’ll all see you and see me. I did this.” 

Sukuna’s red, glowing eyes are the last thing you see before everything flashes white. And then you’re cumming - barely having the capacity to give a fair warning other than, “Oh- f-fuck Kuna m’gonna.”

It takes you a moment to realize that he is as well. The squelches from your delicious cunt only increasing twofold when he’s gifting you with thick spurts of his seed. Too much. Both fat heads throbbing in staccato with your high, so furiously before they’re erupting in a gush of pure white. Too much. 

“Ahhh yes, s’where you belong.” Sukuna breathes, voice a few octaves higher with how much he was still cumming. Hips thrusting to force such filthy movements to pump his potent seed deeper and deeper - sure enough to mark you from the inside out. “Fucked dumb on m’cocks and hah- ready to make me an heir. One to kill off all the trash I can’t.” Letting it slobber down onto his abs, pooling at the muscles. Hot loads overspilling from your tight pussy now. Shit, it’s a sight so sinful that Sukuna has to tear his eyes away to look at that slightly ajar door, brows quirking at the aghast face outside he meets. “Won’t you agree, minister?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “Do you hate me?”

“Huh- what?” you’re blinking, unsure if you even heard that correctly. Eyes darting from Gojo’s pouty pink lips to the way he was still bludgeoning his aching cock inside you, “Of course I don’t, Toru? What’s with the- hah-”

Apparently, your answer wasn’t good enough for the great Gojo Satoru, and it’s not long into your bumbling, half-drunk sentence before he’s smashing his fat tip purposefully against that honeyed g-spot he loved so much. Dragging out such cute moans from your throat while he babbles, “Then why are you- hah telling me to pull out?”

It takes everything in you to wrench your eyes open to meet his dead-serious expression, “What?”

Gojo scoffs at how fucking long it was taking your cockdrunk mind to comprehend him. Pushing your knee back further to spread your sopping cunt, squeezing his thick girth inside like some cocksleeve. “Why-” he cuts himself off with a bullying little thrust. “-are you telling- me to fuckin’ pull out.” And he sounds so genuinely devastated, voice a pitch higher than normal, breaking ever-so-slightly at the end. “Do you hate me now, sweetheart?”

“You fuckin’-” you’re spitting. Nails digging into the sides of Gojo’s pale neck when you’re pulling him closer, hissing into his panting mouth, “-idiot. I told you to- ngh- to pull out because I don’t trust that limitless of yours to work.”

“But, my girl—” he whines, burying his face to lick up the crook of your neck. “Don’ wanna leave to ah- get condoms right now. M’the strongest, when has it not worked?”

And it’s like the sole reminder of this fact is enough to spur your boyfriend on even more, because with a ragged growl he’s falling back onto his thighs - taking your boneless body right along with him. Greedy pussy sat so pretty and needy around his cock, sinking deeper and deeper down every long inch.

You could barely even feel it - limitless. Just a slight, steady pulse of jujutsu, atoms standing at attention all around your tangled bodies.  

“Oh!” you keen at the feeling of Gojo’s heft veins making their mark all along your gummy walls. Gravity sliding you down his swollen cock until your puffy folds were meeting his sharp pelvis in a messy kiss. “Y-you’re really not fuuuck- backing down, huh?”

As if to prove your point, a large palm comes up around your back, wrenching your two hands behind to pin them behind your back. Leaving you completely bare and helpless under his obscene will. 

“Nope.” Gojo hums, popping the “p”. Flashing you a fucked-out grin - and oh he looks so pretty, so wrecked with his snowy locks disheveled, cheeks a blushing pink, lips spit-glossed and worried. “How could I be when my girl- hngh feels like this?”

“S’not gonna-”

“It is-” he’s interrupting in a syrupy tone, so drunk off the way you were complaining about his limitless but taking every thrust he gives so well. “S’gonna work- it will work hngh- trust me, sweetheart.” Thumbing apart your bulging swollen folds even further to toy over your pulsing clit, “Shit- love it when you squeeze me like that. Hah- and you expected me to leave this n’ go get condoms fuckin’ right.” With every hungry thrust he’s gifting your poor pussy, Gojo’s mouth is running a mile a minute against your racing pulse. Heavy tongue lolling, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every passing millisecond you’re sucking the ever-loving soul out of him. “As if I’d wanna hah- leave this. It’ll work-”

Somewhere in-between the lingering ruts, a hand of yours runs through Gojo’s damp tresses, tugging on it to make him look. Difficult, somehow. 

“Toru…” you grip harder on his soft strands, dragging him away from his little hiding spot. Relenting, he’s slowly raising his eyes to look at you and- “Why are you-”

Oh. Shit.

If you thought Gojo was ruined before then you weren’t ready for this - his half-lidded eyes glowing, crackling with power, babbling lips sagging open in ecstacy. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have thought that the lights in your bedroom flickered dangerously just a bit. He gasps, eyes boring into yours, “What- what was I sayin’ again?”

Oh he was so fucked - and you were, too. 

Because your mouth is moving before your mind, feeling so dirty when you muse, “Told me how you were gonna- ngh- drop limitless n’ fill me up, Toru–”

Your jaw is prying open with his mean little tempo. Fat, greedy cock messing up your insides with how haphazardly he was spearing inside in weighty, animalistic thrusts. Leaving just enough time for that divot on his angry tip to peck at your sweet spots, before shoving his entire length back in and out again. Over and over and-

It only takes a mere split-second of Gojo’s limitless faltering, of him being enveloped in all your dripping heaven, before he’s cumming. And cumming so hard, gushing out so much in thick, hot streams of his heady seed.

It’s filling you up from the inside, stretching your walls taut. Sloppy. Sinful. And you can do nothing but reach your high as well, flashes of white-hot pleasure behind your eyes. Or maybe that was Gojo.

His creamy white cum kissing you inside, drooling out of your ravaged hole with every mindless push of his hips. Forcing it deeper and deeper and oh fuck, he could do this forever. Fuck condoms. Fuck limitless. He tells you that - rattles it off into your open mouth a little over fifteen times watching the coating of his cum pool a glossy sheen down your legs. Sloshing down in thick, lewd globs.

“Told you so.” you scoff. 

“That- that was just the practice round! Best out of three?”

“...”

A/N. Picked the title out for no purpose other than self-indulgence I’m ngl.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[coryndoll]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: cute little way to end the night .. OR SO U THINK

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authors note: 😋😋 dont be mad guys im writing the next part asap. if you arent already part of the tag list, let me know in the replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

(pretend he’s wearing the same clothes stop)

Liked by 14,082 others

dstarkeynews Drew and Y/N’s first appearance in a year on September 30th in Santa Barbara, California!

View comments

user1 i haven’t heard about them in forever

user2 ALMOST HAD HIM

user3 I thought they broke up 😭😭

↳ user4 i think they’re on and off

user5 I remember them from 2018 they’re so cute!

user6 tbh i’m happy for them !!

↳ user6 i’m crying .

user7 y’all don’t love them like i do

user8 i was really hoping they didn’t break up omg

user9 they thought they could keep it a secret 😒

user10 WERE THOSE FLOWERS FOR Y/N ????!?$:!:! OMGMGF 😭

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you’re carrying a basket of groceries as you walk with leila through the area. there’s not much on your mind besides checking items off of leila’s list. and it feels nice not having to worry about anything because leila makes you feel normal, makes you and drew feel normal.

speaking of, drew’s just trailing behind you both, though he checks out a few things whenever he sees something he wants to try.

eventually he comes up from your left side and places something he’s bought into your basket, then takes it from you so he can hold your hand with his opposite hand. it feels so natural that you don’t even react, and even if you did acknowledge it, you don’t care.

“it’s so nice to just be out here like regular human beings,” you say, though you note that there’s always a few following behind you three but keep their distance to be a little respectful of your space.

you can hear them giggling every now and then or saying ‘hi’ to their videos that they capture you in, but you don’t think much of it. you think it’s adorable.

drew, however, is itching to get to the car and go home already. leila’s complained twice already that they haven’t completed her list but you’ve already bought everything important for tonight, so you just suggest you go home so both parties still benefit.

leila’s a stubborn one but she gives in when drew is pleading with his palms together. you laugh when she says she can’t stand seeing his “stupid fucking puppy dog eyes”.

when you’re done with your little mini-trip, you return to the car. leila is skipping over with two bags of things while you and drew walk together behind her, swinging your hands back and forth.

he opens your door for you and takes the basket from you so he can keep it in the backseat with leila who happily takes it, and you slide into the passenger’s seat without a thought.

“come on,” his voice pulls you out of the tiktok you’re watching, and you switch your phone off, leaving it on the bed as you drag a blanket with you.

drew’s heading downstairs and he dives right into the sofa, awaiting for everyone to come down already. you wrap the blanket around your body as you shuffle over, seating yourself by his legs.

he sits up instinctively and wraps his arms around you, the side of his head resting on your shoulder as you look around. only a few of you are there—you’re just missing gia and libby who, you guess, are getting the snacks and drinks. and you’re right.

“incoming everyone! don’t be alarmed,” libby says as she and gia make way with the food, and you’re in awe at the spread they’re providing.

“you have your homemade sandwiches—”

“that leila bought from the store,” libby is playing gia’s truth echo that makes you and the others laugh.

“assortment of chips!”

“that i got carried away with and ate half of!”

“can’t go wrong with your candies!”

“theo you owe me fifteen dollars!”

“what?”

“and lastly,” gia closes it out as libby runs back to the kitchen to bring over the tray of cups and drinks. you see oscar rub his hands together mischievously as leila practically drools at the sight. “our drinks!”

libby holds up a cup, “with your name on this complimentary glass that you get to take home after the trip.”

you woo as the glass cups get passed down, and you compare yours with drews while giggling about the free gift. you reach for one of the bottles and fill your glass with it, then take a sip.

“this is what you were working all day on while we were away?” leila asks the girls, extremely impressed by how much dedication they had to providing everyone snacks for her movie night. it essentially is just putting the items into cute bowls and calling it a day, but still. it made her heart warm.

you reach forward and grab a few of the candies and hand one to drew, hinting that you want to try it together. these were purchased by you because you were curious about the taste earlier while you were out.

“ready?” you ask him quickly as he already knows the drill, getting prepared to try it as you count it off. “one, two—” you lean your head back to let the multiple candies you have slide into your mouth while drew just pops his one into his mouth.

as you chew, you raise your eyebrows in surprise. they're really good, and he nods, a small ‘oh yeah’ escaping his lips as he sucks some of the chocolate off of his fingers. you reach over to grab the small bowl, then keep it for yourself without saying anything.

you and drew share a blanket so you’re able to hide the bowl on your lap while he reaches to fill his glass with a drink. oscar hits play on the first movie and you lean into drew’s side to watch the movie this way.

you fall asleep during the second movie, long story short. you can’t help it. but at least you last longer than leila, who fell asleep toward the end of the first one. she was the first one to fall asleep during her own movie night.

drew’s arm tightens around you for a moment, and he shifts to look down at you, finally noticing you’ve completely drifted off.

with a sigh, he decides to call it a night and he rises, sliding out from under you. you stir but don’t fully wake, instinctively curling into the empty spot left by his body.

he hesitates, but then scoops you up gently. you don’t wake up even a bit while your head rests against his chest and he carries you upstairs to the guest room.

the room is already dimly lit by the moonlight filtering in through the windows. he carefully lays you down on the bed, your body finding the most comfortable position as he covers you with the blanket. your breathing is steady as you fall deeper into sleep, and he stands there for a moment, watching you in the soft light, before he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against your leg as he retrieves his phone from his back pocket.

for the first time all day, drew unlocks his phone, the screen lighting up with a shit ton of notifications. missed calls, texts, and a few unread emails flash across the screen, and he scrolls through them with a frown, trying to catch up.

as he gets back up to return to his side of the bed, he swipes through several messages, most of them from his close friends—some teasing, some concerned—before he pauses on one that makes his heart sink.

his eyes narrow, his thumb hovering over the text as his mind races. he was expecting a couple of messages, but not this. not this many. his phone buzzes again, a few more messages lighting up the screen, and he rubs a hand across his face, letting out a quiet, frustrated breath.

his gaze flickers to you again, making sure you’re still fast asleep. the last thing he wants is to wake you up with this, but he glances back down at his phone.

he presses the power button on his phone with a little more force than necessary, the screen going black, then he tosses the phone onto the nightstand with a dull thud. he quickly winces when the sound is a little louder than he expected.

his heart skips a beat when you stir, your eyes fluttering open just slightly, still half-asleep.

“star?” you mumble softly, the name slipping out instinctively.

drew freezes, his gaze immediately shifting to you as you shift under the covers. he forces a smile, leaning forward a little, his voice low and soothing. “sorry,” he murmurs. “just dropped my phone. go back to sleep, okay?”

you blink at him, your eyes barely open, but you manage a small nod, already too drowsy to fully process what’s going on. you can’t read that he’s just lied to you.

“mmf, okay…” you mumble, your body curling into the pillow as you drift back into sleep.

he lets out a quiet sigh of relief, watching as your breathing evens out again. for a moment, the tension in his chest eases, but only just. he leans back, letting his head rest against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments before turning off the bedside lamp.

as the darkness settles around him, the weight of everything presses down harder, and he turns onto his side, facing you. the soft glow of moonlight still filters through the window, and you look so . . . peaceful.

he stays like that for a while, watching you sleep, his mind swirling with thoughts he can’t quiet.

but eventually, drew pulls the blanket up over his shoulder and closes his eyes, trying to shut out the noise in his head and go to sleep.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey

[kithtaehyung]

u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg

3tanoween special: u suck !! pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball |  stay |  sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume. note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :)) warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii����🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍‍♀️this is all i can say🧍‍♀️, ...VMIN??? drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est  word count: 11.5k🫣

explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩

—

—

“Oh, did you get the cookies?” 

“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.” 

Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.” 

“Barbie was great and you know it.” 

“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?” 

“I got this.” 

Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.” 

“Yeah, probably.” 

Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised. 

The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace. 

“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.” 

“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.” 

“So is the jersey?”

“I have two of these.”

“…I will never understand you.”

The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh. 

If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm. 

Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets. 

It’s magical. 

But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels. 

Ugh. 

At least he’s carrying everything. 

“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.  

“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.” 

“The lights are so nice, though.” 

“Uh huh.” 

After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper. 

And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other. 

“Hey! You made it!” 

Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire. 

As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.” 

“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”

“For what?” 

“Uhh, being cute? What else?” 

Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks. 

When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?” 

“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.

“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!” 

“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.” 

“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?” 

“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.” 

His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks. 

Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year. 

Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition. 

“Yoongi! You, too?” 

Huh? Him, too? 

“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.” 

Hot? What could possibly be—

Oh. 

Fucking.

Hell. 

It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up. 

And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words. 

You can’t help it. There’s literally no way. 

Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex? 

How the fuck are you supposed to react! 

“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!” 

Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.

“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.” 

And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with, 

“Why?” 

“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?” 

Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.

But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls, 

“And you dressed basic for what?” 

Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over. 

Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face. 

But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close. 

“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.” 

“Won’t help you, doll.” 

Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.” 

Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!” 

“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.” 

Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee. 

And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!” 

Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back. 

You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly. 

Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.

And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.  

Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck 

Shit, you can’t do this. 

If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him. 

But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately. 

You [10:02pm]: what🥺 

“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along. 

“Where’re we going?” 

“Garage. Table’s about to be open.” 

From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear. 

Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what 

You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕

Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone 

Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now. 

It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless. 

So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him. 

You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that 

It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try. 

Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy. 

Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t 

You [10:08pm]: but shyyy 

You [10:08pm]: whyyy* 

This is bad. 

Why can’t he be super annoying instead—

Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷‍♂️ 

Well. 

You [10:10pm]: 😐 

Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo 

Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…” 

“I will once you stop sexting.” 

“We are not!” 

“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.” 

Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?” 

“A model.” 

He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.” 

“Yup.” 

Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text. 

Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll 

Why does he have to say all the right things?

You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream. 

Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply. 

You [10:13pm]: so do you baby 

You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either 

Wait. 

Have you ever been that bold? 

Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too. 

Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀 

And rude. 

You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛

“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!” 

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes. 

The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around. 

Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core. 

Nope. 

Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs. 

Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.

But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up. 

“You know what’s up.” 

“Dom!” 

“Don’t act like we can’t see it.” 

Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!” 

“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.” 

“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center. 

Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my—”

Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways. 

“Is he coming?” 

“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”

“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?” 

Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.” 

It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center. 

“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.” 

What? 

Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.

Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.” 

But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off. 

Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi. 

Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise. 

Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff? 

Fuck, what if his hand is better! 

Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card. 

Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night. 

But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…

That last card may have just saved your ass.

You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.

“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer. 

And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again. 

With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!” 

Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage. 

And outside of it. 

While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened. 

At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings. 

When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.” 

After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway. 

Only to see them talking amongst their group again. 

This is agonizing. 

Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping. 

Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.

Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted. 

Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again. 

Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you. 

Like that girl that just caressed his arm. 

But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over. 

He’s not like that anymore. 

But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either. 

Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night. 

How much longer can you take being the one in the dark? 

Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.

You’d rather be standing together. 

Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.

Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding. 

The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets. 

You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,  

“What’s your favorite candy?”

“Chocolate!”

“I like gummi bears.”

Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.

Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”

“Yeah! One sec.”

As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,

“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?” 

One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer, 

“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!” 

Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?” 

“Yeah!” 

Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone. 

But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight. 

“What’s up!”

“Come here real quick!”

When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long. 

When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”

“Okay!”

Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.” 

As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!” 

Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.

Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell. 

But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach. 

The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low, 

“Meow.” 

Oh. God.

Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing. 

And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted. 

“Yes, huh!” 

“No!” 

“Look! I have ears!” 

“No! You sound like a human!” 

“You need to keep practicing that spell then!” 

Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again. 

Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery. 

One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece. 

When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud. 

But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too. 

“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure. 

You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue. 

But what you do know? 

You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever. 

“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”

Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”

“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.” 

There’s one other thing you know for sure. 

Seeing how Yoongi can be with children? 

Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.

Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at. 

An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action. 

But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing. 

Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong. 

To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.

“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?” 

Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!” 

“I am!” 

As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects, 

“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!” 

Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!” 

“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!” 

“Me? What the fuck happened last time!” 

Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass? 

You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving. 

Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case. 

Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver. 

“When?”

“At Hobi’s?”

“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.” 

“It does—!” 

Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime. 

“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.” 

Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance. 

If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together. 

More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by. 

“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.

Your brother was right yet again. 

There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around. 

Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore. 

There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike. 

Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo. 

Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now. 

“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.” 

“Hey!” 

The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch. 

Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.

And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.

Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.  

And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life. 

“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers. 

And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.” 

Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue. 

Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers. 

Still a goddamn menace. 

“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention. 

“I am.” 

“So do something!” 

“Am I holding a basketball?” 

Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned, 

“Fine.” 

And he makes a quick dagger shot, too. 

All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!” 

“Don’t listen to him.” 

“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread. 

Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces, 

“Whose side are you on!” 

“You got something to say?” 

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.” 

While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?” 

“No, I’ll make it.” 

He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home. 

Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both? 

Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.

“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.” 

“The haunted house?” 

“Yeah, that.” 

After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can. 

And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back. 

While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!” 

Huh. 

Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him? 

“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else. 

Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting. 

As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...

He’s already walking away. 

And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months. 

Umm.

What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not? 

…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?

Motherfucker.

Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind. 

So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.  

But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason. 

Because he’s watching that dude leave. 

Looking pissed. 

Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—

He’s not—

What is he doing?

He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right? 

Right?

…This is bold as fuck. 

Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants. 

“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.” 

Damn. No subtlety this time?

You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly. 

But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head. 

“I should’ve done this sooner.”

“You didn’t know.” 

“Doesn’t matter.”

When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say. 

Yoongi is actually furious.  

Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv. 

Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too? 

They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated. 

Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.  

“Y’all good over there?”

“Yeah.” 

Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing. 

That’s probably best for everyone involved. 

“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.

And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.” 

“Okay.” 

No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard. 

But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went. 

The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face. 

Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone. 

And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.

The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes. 

But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left. 

So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles. 

Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness. 

Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed. 

But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment. 

Did you feel jealous? Upset? 

To your pleasant surprise, not really. 

Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever. 

You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too. 

All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though. 

A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump. 

“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”

As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are. 

So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?” 

Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks, 

“You good to go home with your friends?” 

Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?” 

“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.” 

“The fuck? On Halloween?” 

He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.” 

Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on? 

And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?

Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle. 

You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.” 

“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.” 

“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.” 

“K.”  

He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had. 

Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk. 

Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.

After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated. 

Maybe you should have left, too. 

Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.

But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time. 

Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?

Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back. 

You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..

Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t

Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec 

This is it. 

This is why you stayed. 

Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours. 

Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll

And you will wait forever. 

However long it takes.

You [12:51am]: ok

It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.

Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as? 

All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters. 

But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket. 

So unfair.

In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years. 

And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..” 

Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on. 

“Come here.” 

“You sure?” 

He hesitates. 

And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question. 

But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous. 

What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?

There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.

God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly. 

But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers. 

However. 

When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning. 

“Yoongi…?” 

With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment. 

Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves? 

Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not. 

As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.

And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.

“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”

His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs, 

“Is that what you want?”

Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”

“Me to suck you dry.”

You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.” 

His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”

That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.

You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.” 

“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch. 

“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”

“Good.” 

You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud. 

Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.

There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.

And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”

“Yoongi—”

Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting. 

Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”

“You taste so fucking good.” 

More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”

Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall. 

“Yoo—”

And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush. 

For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls. 

Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.

But you can tell something’s off.

He’s holding back.

Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?

If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.

So what’s with the sudden hesitation?

Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can. 

“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.” 

“Please what.” 

“I need you.” 

“I’m right here.” 

“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.” 

“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?” 

Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations. 

Were they always that loud?

“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.” 

Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?” 

Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire, 

“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.” 

“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”

“You don’t.”

Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you. 

Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart. A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.

And you’ll let him.

Consequences be damned. 

“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”

Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides. 

Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.

Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.

“Thought I was boring.”

Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Say sorry then.”

It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”

Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”

Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.” 

“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”

Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow. 

All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..” 

Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”

Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”

“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.” 

“This wouldn’t get old?” 

“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”

Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”

“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.” 

He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.

“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now. 

“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”

“Just make me forget it.”

He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.” 

And your lips are fully captured before you can respond. 

You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.

If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.

But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,

“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.” 

“Wait, why—”

“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”

Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied. 

“Yoongi, what—” 

He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced. 

And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.

You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.

“Baby, you sure?”

“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.” 

Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even. 

“We don’t have to, doll.” 

And if you’re honest… 

The thrill of it is enticing.

“We can.” 

“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.” 

A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.” 

“Not telling.” 

Of course. “You suck.” 

Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second. 

Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time. 

Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been. 

And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”

“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?” 

“No, but—fuck.” 

Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent. 

“God, you’re so perfect.” 

Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.” 

“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.” 

Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…” 

“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.” 

Oh. 

You know why he’s holding you so hard. 

And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul. 

Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 

His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking. 

But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have, 

“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?” 

Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night. 

So you vow to make that reality. 

“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”

Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime. 

Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.” 

Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it. 

His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.” 

And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly. 

Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?” 

Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer. 

“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.” 

Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—

A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do. 

Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes. 

Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts. 

But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate. 

So fucking unfair. 

Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain. 

Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit? 

Suddenly, two voices burst into the room. 

And you recognize both of them. 

“—like you said, right?” 

“I know, but…” 

It’s Tae. 

And Jimin. 

“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.” 

The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you. 

“You really think so?” 

There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer. 

Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!

When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.  

What the fuck is he doing! 

This man is going to be the end of you. 

“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?” 

“Okay… Just give me a moment.” 

Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra. 

And you almost can’t deal with the feeling. 

Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy. 

You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house. 

Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush. 

And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again. 

“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.” 

“Most of it was your idea.” 

“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.” 

Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass. 

“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.” 

“Finally. It was getting boring in here.” 

A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion. 

“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.” 

“You just sat on it.” 

“I didn’t sit on that side.” 

Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.  

“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs. 

Adrenaline still at its peak. 

“You’re gonna pay for that.” 

“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?” 

After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?” 

“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?” 

“Do you want to?” 

You pause. 

If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi. 

But if you stay… 

“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”

“Fuck no.” 

Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks. 

And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever? 

So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”

“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?” 

You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut. 

Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it. 

A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear. 

“You’ve been this wet this whole time?” 

Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,

“Nah, we’re fucking in here.” 

Holy fuck, what? 

“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“We don’t have—”

“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving. 

What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now? 

Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist. 

When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.” 

“Sure you didn’t.” 

He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?” 

Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?” 

“We don’t have to.” 

Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier. 

But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table. 

Fuck. 

Do you really go for it? 

You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in. 

…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil. 

“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.” 

His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again. 

Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience, 

“So fucking wet.” 

Fuck. 

“Gonna take this dick so well.” 

Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast. 

“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.” 

Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall. 

Well, you think he’s on the same page. 

Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now. 

Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can. 

“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.” 

You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation. 

You feel bad. 

And it feels fantastic. 

“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.” 

When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things. 

After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty. 

When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.” 

“Mmhmm.”

“Good girl.” 

As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder. 

Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers. 

Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—

“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.

“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”

Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now. 

Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.

“Show me up then.”

He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.

Oh, he’s a killer. 

And he’s all yours.

Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.

Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.

Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.

Which is the worst best thing to do. 

“Fuck, doll.”

With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.

“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means. 

And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time. 

You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest. 

“Breathe in for me.”

And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth. 

Fuck! 

Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen. 

“Again.”

When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go. 

“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,

“So good.” 

“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”

Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”

He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”

You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment. 

“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.

After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”

You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way. 

And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again. 

Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.

Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.

How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off. 

“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”

He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.” 

You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble. 

And definitely other people, too.

But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.

“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”

You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell. 

And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,

“Then come for me, doll.”

Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.

“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”

And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight. 

“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”

Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing. 

“Baby, I’m still—”

“Fuck—”

You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.

“D—”

You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”

“No, but—”

“Take it off.”

Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control. 

Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks. 

Because you want this. He’s earned this. 

Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long. 

This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening. 

When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for. 

Yoongi is fighting for his life. 

You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth. 

And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat. 

He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.

“Open that mouth.”

You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.

“Goddamn.”

You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.

It looks like he wants to say something. 

But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head. 

As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you. 

But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk. 

As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time. 

Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what, doll,” he asks in return. 

“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.” 

His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.” 

"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?” 

Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone. 

And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours. 

If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.

Even if they frightened you to death. 

Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung. 

After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that. 

With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.

And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.

But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now. 

When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you. 

And you dissolve into mush yet again.

Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home 

You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((  

What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked? 

Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be 

It’s definitely with Yoongi. 

Right now, you know your home is with him. 

Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want. 

You [2:47am]: turn into a cat 

Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒

Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy. 

And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes. 

Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment 

He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.

And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.

Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)

Happy Halloween indeed. 

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end :)

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🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!

a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.

a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.

++feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[chdarling]

Not a goodbye, just a brb.

And so we reach the end of TLE2.

…holy shit, y’all.

I had it in my head that I was going to write a whole deep, emotional retrospective on what TLE2 has meant to me, how it’s seen me through so many dramatic changes in my life since I start writing it in 2021, etc, etc, etc. And I have so much to say on that, but it turns out, I’m still a little too emotional to do it hahaha. Honestly didn’t think it was going to hit me this hard.

So instead let me talk about the future for a minute, and then another night I’ll invite drunk CH in to do my dirty work for me.

First things first, as you are probably all aware, I will be taking an extended break between TLE2 and TLE3. I’ve been posting this story pretty consistently since 2020, and as much as I have loved it, and continue to love it, it’s time for me to take a little breather and focus on some other projects for a while.

Please do not worry that I’m abandoning TLE. I am not. This story has haunted me since I was fifteen years old. I will never escape until I write those final words. It’s a part of me, and I’m going to see it through. One way or another. But, in order for me to continue to love working on TLE, I need to take some time and space away, and I also have several original projects that I’m really excited to work on, and that I have frankly been neglecting over the past few years as TLE2 took much longer to finish than I anticipated.

Among these projects is a substack that I literally just set up today. So, it’s very fresh. There’s nothing much there yet, but if you’d like to follow along as I focus on my original writing, this would be the place to do it. No pressure at all, but if it interests you, you can subscribe here. (It’s free!)

It’s probably going to be a month or so until I’m really able to dive into this, but I’m really excited, a little scared, and really, really grateful for all of your support.

Probably not a great advertisement for me as a writer to say that I don’t have the words to tell you how much you all have meant to me over the years of sharing TLE, but just know it’s a lot. It’s a lot a lot.

Ok and with this little self-indulgent post out of the way, I’m going to wipe the tears from my misty eyes and go press that publish button for TLE2, one last time.

See you on the other side.

[callsign-rogueone]

keep her safe - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Marked!Pacifist!Reader  This one is for my fellow tired, chronic pain girls who just want their suffering to serve some purpose, and those who trust everyone they meet, even if they shouldn’t. wc: 4.7k -- the longest work I've ever put on this blog! second chapter is here! 🏷: spoilers for both Fourth Wing books (I’m currently 500 pages into Iron Flame, and y’all... 😭) people refer to you with she/her pronouns, canon-typical violence and torture, mentions of canon character death / death of a family member, bad coping mechanisms, Dain and his memory reading (I tried to make him more tolerable), one (1) reference to sex, I gave you a last name (Avan) and Garrick calls you angel as a pet name, because I refuse to use y/n. Your dragon's name is Tab.

Your stomach drops as your name is called for a challenge. “No weapons today.” Emeterrio adds. “I want you to work on your hand-to-hand.”

The pair of you unsheath nearly a dozen knives apiece, you handing yours to Bodhi. Disarmed, you extend a hand to the boy, as is the Tyrrish tradition before a friendly spar, but he doesn’t take it. No unmarked ones ever have.

He charges first, tangles a hand in your hair and pulls, jerking your head back, and the crowd of freshmen gasp, but you plant your feet and move with him, twisting your spine with practiced ease.

That gives you enough distance to kick a leg out at his right knee, hitting him squarely in the back of it. He releases you. Another swift kick to his legs has them sweeping out from under him. You dig a thumb into his collarbone, finding just the right spot, and he crumples, giving you a split second to wrap your arm around his throat.

He claws at your elbow with blunt nails, wasting breath as he attempts to rise to his feet, but you keep him pinned with your body weight, bearing down as hard as you can. He bucks, and your left boot skids against the mat. 

You bend your knee to brace yourself in a lunge. Your arm is starting to falter, he can feel the muscle straining around his jaw, but he’s tiring too — running out of air. If neither of you moves, he’s going to die.

“Enough,” Emeterrio commands.

You release him, extending a hand to pull him up, but he smacks it away and dives straight at you, clearly not done. “I’m not letting you off that easily, traitor.” 

You squeak in surprise, your back hitting the mat with a thud, and he lands another blow to your jaw. You struggle to take control back, gasping for breath from how hard you’d hit the floor.

He gathers your wrists into one hand easily, the other closing around your throat.

“You are going to die on this mat if you don’t do something, now. Use the failsafe.��� 

There’s one dagger you hadn’t removed, that you’d won from Garrick in combat your first year, that he’d let you win, really, and promptly ordered that you never remove it from your reach, for situations like this.

He doesn’t have your legs pinned, so you kick out, catching him in the thigh, and his grip falters. You manage to wiggle one arm free to pull the blade from the inside of your jacket, rolling onto your side and holding the point millimeters away from his chest. “Yield,” you order, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You won’t kill me,” He snarls. “Everyone knows you’re all bark and no bite. That’s why you keep him around.”

You drag it down, just enough to tear his shirt. “Yield, or you’ll meet Malek today and you can explain to him what a cheating coward you are.” The words surprise you, but you fight to maintain the hardened look on your face, trying to convince him you’re serious. 

“Fine,” he spits, “I yield.”

Heart still pounding, you move to lean against the wall with the other marked ones, Bodhi handing you back your arsenal blade by blade. 

“She cheated!” Jason protests as soon as he’s standing again.

“She did what was necessary after you defied a direct order from a superior officer,” Emeterrio says narrowly.

Jason glowers, but returns to his friends without further argument. The rest of the pack takes note of their faces; they’re likely as conniving as him, and as liable to try to kill you, too.

“I’m gonna end that motherfucker,” Garrick mutters, checking you over for injuries as subtly as he can. He hands you a scrap of cloth and you wipe the blood from your nose, wincing, but grateful it isn’t broken.

“He’s been at this for months. One of these days, he’s going to kill you.” Bodhi says quietly, his gaze not moving from the next sparring pair.

“Why not kill him first?” Imogen asks. “You had a knife to his gut, you should have used it.”

“No.” You say firmly. “To kill anyone unmarked, especially an officer’s son, would confirm what everyone else in this army believes about Tyrs; that we are bloodthirsty animals.”

“Let them believe that,” she scoffs. “They’ll never change their mind.”

You sigh. Maybe she’s right.

You don’t see your friends for the next ten hours, when you’re finally excused for dinner.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bodhi asks. 

“Medical wing,” you rasp, sliding into a seat at the end of the bench. “Mending infantry with Carr.” 

“You should eat,” Liam says softly, pushing a plate toward you, but you shake your head no, every muscle in your body screaming. 

You look like your head is going to hit the table, your neck no longer able to hold it up. Bodhi pulls you into his side and you slump against him, boneless. “Her signet isn’t fully developed yet,” you hear him explain to Violet and Liam. “She’ll be okay. She just needs to rest.”

When you wake, it’s dark out, the room nearly pitch black, but you can tell it’s not yours — the furniture is arranged differently.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, gentle one,” Tab greets as soon as you’re cognizant. He can only be this dry about it because he knew you’d pull through. “If he makes you do that again, I’ll eat him.”

You laugh, wincing at the pain in your ribs. Your entire body aches. There’s no way you got up the three flights of stairs here yourself — you didn’t even have it in you to chew food at dinner.

There’s a comforting scent to the room — all the soap and detergent everyone uses is standard issue, but something about the sheets smells like Garrick. Your theory is confirmed when he walks through the door, the hallway light illuminating the hilts of the two swords strapped to his back. “If you want me in your bed, Gare, you just need to ask,” you say in greeting.

He laughs dryly, waving a hand to activate a small mage light. “The damage can’t be too bad if you’re already cracking jokes.”

“I missed physics, didn’t I? Did you carry me up here?”

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about. You can copy Violet’s notes, they’re way better than mine.” He strips some of the weapons off, shedding his flight jacket along with them. It’s something you’ve seen many times before, but it never fails to make your heart flutter.

He sits on the edge of the bed, a gentle hand moving up to lay against your cheek. “And I did carry you. I’d do anything for you, angel. It scares me sometimes.”

He brushes a piece of hair from your face. You’d been freezing cold when you fell asleep, so he’d draped you with every blanket he owned before leaving, and it seems to have worked — your skin is pleasantly warm against his hand.

“Anything, hm?” You ask, a lazy smile on your face. 

His eyes sparkle at the mischief in your tone, but he’s responsible enough to think before he acts. “Not until you’ve recovered,” he says sternly. 

You yawn. “D’you have section leader stuff to do tonight?”

“That’s what executive officers are for.”

You crack an eye to look at him in disapproval. “Gare, you can’t skip duty. Melgren will have your head.”

He sighs. “Fine. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t. Your bed is more comfortable than mine anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, tugging the jacket back on and strapping in the swords.

/////////

Someone is standing in front of your yoga mat. Dain. “No bodyguard today?” He asks.

You’re silent, your gaze flickering between him and the longsword by your side, the one Garrick had insisted you take with you everywhere when he wasn’t there to protect you.

“You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t want to kill you.” He says with a sigh. “I just need to-”

“Quit talking and join me, or leave.” You interrupt, settling into a deeper stretch, eyes closing as you gesture to the floor next to you with an open hand. By the grace of Amari, Carr had given you enough time off to recover, but he’ll likely be making you work another shift in the infirmary today. This will be your only pocket of calm for the next twelve hours. You aren’t going to skip it for Dain, of all people.

He chooses the first option, surprising you as he drags a mat over beside yours, attempting to copy your movements. “Do you really do this every day?” He asks, uncomfortable.

“Even a soldier must take time to be at peace. Clear your mind. Whatever you’re thinking about is so loud it’s distracting.”

He startles, his foot slipping on the mat.

“No, my signet is not mind-reading.” You say, eyes still closed, though there’s an amused look on your face. “Relax. You’re killing the air in here with that nervous energy.”

For the next five minutes, you both stretch in total silence. “Now,” you decide, bringing your arms back to your body, focusing on your breathing, “what was so important that you needed to find me here?”

He cuts straight to it. “Varrish wants me to… practice on you. He thinks you’re hiding something, that all of you are.” He doesn’t need to specify who he means by you. 

You don’t seem to react to the information, instead looking at him with curiosity. “How do you feel about your signet?” 

He blinks. Nobody’s ever asked him that before. “I don’t know.” He says quietly. You shift again, but he doesn’t follow you, folding his legs underneath him instead. Your silence presses him to speak, needing to fill the air. “I used to think it was cool, but now… now I’m wondering if it’s really a gift at all.”

“What do you see when you view a memory like that? Are you living it through their eyes, or from above, watching it unfold? How far back can you see?”

“Through their eyes.” He answers, throat dry. Why is he telling you this? “A day, maybe two. It depends. Varrish wants me to learn to push it farther.”

You weigh the consequences. If he’s being honest, he won’t see anything confidential — at worst, a gathering of more than three marked ones to exercise, but is he really petty enough to tell Varrish about that, when he’s giving you a warning in the first place?

“Okay.” You say, opening your eyes. Better it be you than one of the kids who can’t shield their memories yet, or Garrick or Bodhi, who would rip him limb from limb if he tried to touch them.

“What?”

“I’m going to go about my day now as if this conversation never happened,” you say, looking him in the eye, unflinching, “and you’re going to do what you have to do to satisfy Varrish’s demands — with me and only me. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” he stammers, shocked that you’re letting him do this.

“Good.” You pick up the longsword, strapping it back in along your spine. “Dain?” You call over your shoulder. “I won’t make it easy for you.” You say, and he knows that’s a promise.

“That was an incredibly stupid decision, gentle one. A noble decision, but stupid nonetheless.” Tab speaks into your mind on the way back up to your room. “You cannot always assume everyone has good intentions. It would have been your downfall by now, if not for your mate’s protection.”

“Stop calling Garrick my mate. That’s weird.” You deflect, not wanting to unpack his earlier words.

“Forgive me. Dragons do not have a word for a relationship as trivial as a boyfriend.”

You build up a mental wall like Xaden had taught you, ending the argument. 

When Varrish calls you into his office that afternoon, you already know what it’s for. “Take a seat,” he says with a smile that you know isn’t meant to be friendly.

He sees the way your eyes immediately narrow at the sight of Dain — everyone knows how the quadrant’s golden boy feels about marked ones, and how you feel about him. You’re going to be doing some very good acting today.

The door closes and locks behind you, and your stomach flips as you feel the sound shield form and press up against the office walls. There’s no escape, and no screaming for help, but you know what you’ve walked into. You signed up for it this morning.

“To what do I owe this meeting, Major?” You ask respectfully, lowering yourself into the chair beside Dain.

“Professor Carr has made me aware that both of your signets have been slow to develop. We’re going to spend your leisure time today practicing, in hopes that you will finally improve.” A very convincing lie, you’ll admit. If Dain hadn’t come to you this morning, you might have believed it. “No objections?” He asks, waiting for you to protest.

“No, sir.” You say calmly, Dain answering the same a beat behind you.

“Good. Aetos, you first.”

It takes every ounce of self control not to squirm as Dain stands, stepping toward you. You lift your chin, closing your eyes -- a gesture of consent small enough to fly under the Vice Commandant’s radar.

You may be letting him try, but you’d told him this wouldn’t be easy. You block him out completely, raising your mental shield and barring the gates.

“What do you see?” Varrish asks.

Dain doesn’t answer. He does not push, does not attempt to kick the door down or dig below the foundation. He stands outside, waiting for you to give him something. 

The crack of his nose breaking has your eyes flying open, the coppery scent of blood starting to fill the room immediately as he staggers back into his chair.

“Your turn, Avan."

You stand, laying a gentle hand on Dain’s jaw to tilt it up, stopping the blood from pouring down his shirt. 

He looks up at you, stunned, but lets you touch the broken cartilage with your fingertips, and moments later it feels like nothing ever happened. It’s mind-bending.

“Very good. Aetos, try again. What was she doing this morning?”

Dain stands, angling his body between yours and Varrish’s so that the Major can’t see the apology he mouths before his hands touch your forehead. Whether he can see his conversation with you in the gym is unclear. He lies through his teeth either way. “She was alone,” he answers, “on a run to the flight field and back.” 

“And then?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving yours. “A shower, breakfast. Eggs. An apple. Toast. She sat with Tavis and two other marked ones.” He leaves out Violet from the group, not wanting to implicate her. Interesting. 

That much is true, but it’s part of your everyday routine — he could have easily gleaned that from watching you across the mess hall. Is he still locked out?

Varrish stands, rounding the corner of his desk. “Let’s make this a little harder, shall we?”

Dain screams as a dagger pierces his arm, thrashing in his chair. Varrish twists the blade as he pulls it out, letting Dain’s blood drip to the floor. This is why he needed the sound shield.

Your eyes widen, and the adrenaline has you leaping to your feet to fix it. You press a hand into the wound, apologizing when he winces. It takes you longer than it should for the muscle to repair itself.

“You care more about him than I thought.” Varrish muses.

You turn to him, anger flickering in your chest. “It is my moral obligation to help the wounded.”

He tuts. “You would have made an excellent healer, had your parents not committed high treason. Aetos, again. Find something older.”

Dain trembles as he stands, and you take pity on him. You push an older memory forward, a happy one, remembering it as vividly as you can.

You watch together as you sprint through the forest, stopping dead in your tracks as you see two cadets fighting. The one losing is a smaller girl in your class whose name Dain can’t remember, a tall, muscled boy towering over her, sword ready to strike.

You spring forward, catching him by surprise and effectively disarming him, and he chooses to abandon the sword and run rather than fight the both of you. You extend a hand to pull the girl to her feet and her eyes widen further, staring up not at you, but behind you.

You feel a burst of heat against your back — not hot enough to be fire. Steam. You bow your head in deference, turning slowly to give the girl time to run… And the dragon bows back. What the fuck?

“You did not kill the boy.” It says directly into your mind.

“I did not.” You answer aloud, not sure if humans can do that.

“Have you ever killed before, gentle one?”

“I haven’t.” Should you be embarrassed? Dragons are violent, surely they would see this as a sign of weakness.

“Not all of us.”

“Holy shit, you can read my mind.”

The girl laughs in disbelief, and you realize you’ve just bonded a dragon.

“In time you’ll learn to control that. But your friend needs to get moving, and so do we.”

You wish her luck before scaling the leg of your dragon and taking a seat.

“Hold on.”

You shriek in happiness like a child as he jumps up, and seconds later you’re thousands of feet in the air, looking down at Basgiath and the valley below. When you return to the flight field, you find Garrick there with a giant brown Scorpiontail, bloodied but happy as he stands next to Xaden and the biggest blue daggertail you’ve ever seen. You pull them both into a hug, just grateful they’re alive.

“Careful, angel,” Garrick warns, grinning into your hair, “we just might make it out of here.”

You cut Dain off there, yanking back the memory before slamming your shields back up. He can have that moment, but only that moment.

“Threshing,” Dain says. Thank the gods. “She helped another cadet who was being attacked. That’s why Tab chose her, for her kindness.”

You both look at Varrish for further instruction. Your shields have been weakening with every injury you repair, but so have Dain’s abilities. You don’t know how many more rounds either of you can take. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” He says, sounding pleased. “I’ll see you again on Wednesday morning, to check your progress. You’re dismissed.”

The sound shield dissipates, the door unlocking. The only evidence is Dain’s blood, smeared across his face and arms, drying on the floor and under your nails. You commit the sight to memory, tucking it into the same folder that holds the death of your parents, and slam the drawer shut.

It takes you five minutes to scrub the blood out of the cracks in your palms and from under your nails. Your fingertips are wrinkled when you step into the gym.

“Why did Tab tell Chradh that you were called into Varrish’s office with Aetos?” Garrick asks, remarkably calm as he toys with one of his smaller daggers.

“Because he’s a meddling mother hen.” You answer, avoiding the question.

“Watch it.”  Tab warns. “Tell him the truth, or we will.”

You know he’s not bluffing. “He wanted us to practice our signets on each other.”

“Dain practiced his signet, his memory-reading signet, on you?” He asks, already simmering with anger.

“This morning, he came to me to warn me about Varrish’s plan, and I told him it was okay. I used my shields, and I only showed him what I wanted to. We’re supposed to do it again Wednesday.”

Your eyes communicate something else you won’t say aloud, not in front of everyone, and not when you know Dain might be able to see this conversation in two days. I did this to take the heat off of the others. You know I was the safest choice.

Garrick sighs. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d like to state for the record that I hate this plan. Literally everything about it. Except for Aetos being stabbed, maybe.” Of course Chradh told him about that. He’d have been delighted by the news, despising both him and Cath.

You give him a look.

“Okay, fine. I take that back.”

He doesn’t. 

By Wednesday, the pain in the bridge of your nose is gone, but your arm is still tender where Dain had been stabbed. Bodhi joins you in the gym, stretching with you for a few minutes before he settles into a plank at your side, his eyes never leaving the door.

Dain does not make an appearance at breakfast, notably absent from the leadership table.

Garrick excuses himself as soon as he sees you stand with your tray, catching you by the doors. “Remember that you’re stronger than both of them in all the ways that matter,” he says quietly. “I’ll find you as soon as you’re done.” You both tap your chest twice before parting ways, as has been your tradition for years -- a reminder that even though you’re leaving, you still hold the other in your heart.

Each step up to Varrish’s office is another reminder of what’s to come when you reach the top. “Cadet Avan,” he greets with another sickening smile. “Just in time. We were beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Your jaw drops at the sight of Dain slumped into the same chair as last time, bloodied and exhausted.

“Nothing fatal,” Varrish reassures. “Not if you act quickly. Go ahead, get started.”

The Vice Commandant’s words have you on edge as you assess him, looking for gaping wounds or broken bones. Dain winces as your hands move over his ribs, and you whisper an apology, pressing in deeper. When your chest starts to ache, you know it’s time to move on. You mend two broken ribs, dissolve a purple bruise on his arm, and fix a split lip, but Dain still hasn’t woken up.

You turn back to Varrish. “One left,” he says. “Use your head.”

Oh, gods. He’d given Dain a concussion, because he knows the migraine it’ll give you will make it harder to shield. You cradle the second-year’s head in your hands, breathing out deeply as you transfer the pain from his body to yours, healing the bruised tissue. Dain blinks himself awake as you stumble, the room suddenly spinning.

“Well done. Aetos?”

You fumble for the arms of your chair, vision blurring at the edges, but you manage to sit back down.

“Say the word, and I get your mate,” Tab offers. He can probably feel your disorientation, concerned you won’t be able to block Dain out in this state.

“No,” you rasp back. “If he shows up, Varrish will have us practice on him instead.”

 You need to pick another memory to satisfy Varrish, something older, but your brain isn’t firing on all cylinders. Dain gives you a moment to gather yourself, a small gesture of mercy.

“A moment of pure happiness,” Tab suggests. “Something with the wingleader and your mate.”

You flip back in the book of your life, nearly all the way to the beginning, opening it to the right page to give to Dain and slipping it under the gate with a nod of your head — you’re ready.

Dain’s hands are warm against your freezing cheeks. A boy no older than five that he recognizes as Garrick crouches under a desk across the room, holding a finger to his lips. 

“Wherever could those children possibly be?” Someone muses aloud, and you fight laughter as the voice grows closer, thinking it amusing that this adult has no idea you’re hiding in the curtains.

Footsteps retreat, and Garrick signals for you to move. You make it down the hallway before you see someone searching — presumably whatever parent you’d convinced to play with you. Small hands tug you both behind a plush velvet couch. Xaden. 

You press yourselves up against it, trying to be as quiet as possible, watching as a shadow forms on the wall in front of you, then a head peers over the back of the couch — that must be your father. He looks just like you, has the same warm smile.

“One more, and then I need to get back to work,” He says, already moving to cover his eyes and starting to count to one hundred. You each run off in a different direction, and the scene fades there.

“A childhood memory,” Dain says. “Playing hide and seek in her father’s office with Riorson and Tavis.”

Not good enough for Varrish. “Give me something I can use,” he snarls, a Freudian slip, but nothing either of you hadn’t known already. 

You flip forward in the book, settling on a page you never look at, that you can’t bear to, but that Varrish will revel in. You rip it out, sliding it under the gate. “Bad,” you whisper, the only warning you can manage.

Dain nods in permission, ready to watch whatever memory you’ve pushed forward.

Someone presses a small stone into your hand, an intricate overlap of shapes and lines engraved on one side, the other perfectly smooth.

“Do not put it down, even for a moment,” your father says. He’s aged between now and the last memory, starting to go gray at his temples. “Keep it in your hand until the end. It will protect you when we can’t.”

He looks next to Garrick. “She is everything good about the world.” He says quietly. “Take care of her.”

Garrick promises he will, and your father pulls you into one last embrace before he leaves. Tears blur your vision, Garrick pulling you close. “It’ll be okay,” he soothes. “They’ll come back.”

Hours pass that Dain can’t see, because you don’t remember them. 

There’s an ache in your palm from clutching the stone so hard, the rounded corners digging into your skin. Garrick takes your free hand in his, interlocking your fingers. Then there’s only screaming and fire and rage, heat burning up your arm as it’s marked with inky swirls. Until the end, your father had said. This must have been what he meant.

“Her parents’ execution,” Dain says, a note of genuine hurt in his voice. “They gave each child a runestone before they left, as protection.”

Varrish’s eyes rake over to you. He leans forward, yanking on the leather cord that disappears into the neck of your shirt hard enough to pull your body with it. “A runestone like this one?”

“Yes,” you answer before Dain can, saving him the lie. You shut your eyes, wincing as the cold edge of a knife brushes against your neck and the cord breaks, a single drop of warm blood running down your collarbone. You don’t protest, you can’t, your mind still hazy and eyes wet with tears from reliving the memory with Dain.

“That will be all.” Varrish dismisses. He doesn’t make an appointment for you to come back. He has what he needs.

You stand, relying on your knowledge of the office’s layout to navigate your way forward until the door closes behind you.

“I’m so sorry,” Dain breathes once you’re down the hall far enough to avoid being heard. “If I had known,”

“It’s okay. The rune is long dead, and he has no idea how to recreate it. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt you again.” You blink, trying to clear your head. How are you going to get down all these stairs? You can hardly see.

“Here,” he says quietly, extending a hand. You take it, letting him loop an arm over his shoulders — your right, the one that Varrish hadn’t bruised black and blue on Dain — and lead you one step at a time.

You’re halfway down when you hear heavy footsteps running up the stairs. Garrick. He’d promised he’d find you when you were done. He doesn’t spare a glance at Dain, gathering you into his arms and apologizing when he puts pressure on your not-broken ribs.

Dain watches as the older boy carries you down the rest of the stairs, murmuring reassurances to you all the while. Your father’s words echo in his mind. “Take care of her.”

Garrick Tavis is a man of his word.

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 16

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: almost a month after the party, you’re hanging out with evan at his house, trying to get your assignment done.

word count: 2.6k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: y’all thought i forgot about their assignment?? wrong. this is ANGSTY i’m sorry!! but the poll was pretty much tied and it’s short lived if it’s any consolation :// enjoy<33

warnings: mentions of cheating??, no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

It’s well into November when you’re hanging out with Evan in his room, trying desperately to get the last few parts of your assignment mapped out. It’s not hard work, but with the way you’re sitting cross legged on Evan’s bed while he sits facing you on his desk chair, Evan’s brain is only focused on pouncing on you. You’re talking about the research article you found while Evan is staring shamelessly at your body, humming along with you to make it seem like he’s paying attention. You sigh and stop talking once you realize his head is a million miles away, and you close your laptop, raising a brow at him.

“Ev, can you not pay attention for, like, 30 more minutes?” you ask in a teasing, yet slightly exasperated tone. His eyes finally dart up to yours, and he gives you a cheeky smile as he shrugs. 

“Oh, I’m paying attention, princess. You thought you could come over looking like that and I’d just work on the assignment?” he asks, raising a brow as he looks down at your body again.

“I’m wearing leggings and a hoodie. I literally could not be more covered up.” you say with a laugh, setting your laptop to the side, knowing there’s no way of getting him to focus now. He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he stands up and stalks toward you on the bed. He holds out a hand once he’s in front of you, which you take. He helps pull you up, then puts his hands on your hips and pulls you against him with a smirk. You meet his lips as he leans down, your hands moving to his cheeks as you smile into the kiss.

“You’re a damn temptress.” he murmurs against your lips, which makes you laugh. You pull away, giving him a “really?” look, still laughing quietly.

“You want to take a break?” you ask, one hand moving up to run through his hair. He nods, humming softly as he feels your fingers massaging his scalp. He pushes you back onto the bed, and waits until your head is on one of his pillows before he dives onto the bed beside you, making the bed creak and bounce you around a little. He moves to lay practically on top of you, one leg thrown over both of yours, his arm draped over your tummy, and his head resting against your soft chest. He hums against your chest, sinking into you as you chuckle, shaking your head. Your hand goes back up to run through his hair again, and although it’s a little harder to breathe with his weight on you, you wouldn’t dream of moving. 

You stay quiet for a while, absentmindedly running your hand through his scalp before you break the silence, speaking before you can really think about what you’re saying.

“We’re graduating this year.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but he hears you anyway, and he hums softly, nodding slightly. He mumbles, “I know, it’s crazy.” and you nod along with him, starting to think about life after college.

“What are you gonna do after?” you ask softly, your words hanging heavily in the air as the implications of the question suddenly become a little clearer to both of you. You weren’t really sure where you were going with what you were saying at first, but now, it’s clear to you and Evan that you’re really asking “what about us after graduation?”

He raises his head, resting his chin on your chest as he looks up at you, eyes studying your slightly nervous expression. You know it’s a little much to ask; you’ve only known each other for 3 months, but you can’t imagine just going your separate ways once you walk across the stage.

“I don’t know, princess.” he tells you softly, not knowing what else to say. He wants to comfort you, but he doesn’t want to say anything that he can’t promise.

“Well, you’re gonna have your degree. What kind of work do you want to do with it?” He huffs, thinking about having to find a fulltime job.

“Honestly, I’m only here because my parents basically forced me to go to college. I don’t even want to do anything with the degree, I just did it to shut them up.” he tells you, resting his cheek back on your chest again. Your heartbeat and steady rising and falling of your chest help to calm him, and he lets out a silent sigh. You hum softly, frowning at his words.

“So, I’m guessing you’re not planning on going back to Pennsylvania?” you ask, desperate to know more. You’ve always thought about staying in LA once you graduate, and it would be perfect if he’s considering it too. 

“Definitely not. I don’t really know where I wanna go, or what I wanna do. I’m just kind of hoping it’ll hit me, and I’ll figure it out.” he tells you earnestly with a small shrug, squeezing you just a little bit tighter. All he knows is that he really doesn’t want to go anywhere without you. He almost laughs as he thinks about it. Before he met you, he couldn’t imagine becoming so close with a girl that he can’t bear the thought of parting from her, but now, he silently hopes that after graduation you stay together.

“Your parents live close to here, right? Would you stay around here after graduation?” he asks after a few moments of silence. 

“I would, but I wouldn’t take moving somewhere else off the table.” you tell him, and although you’re saying it because you know you’d probably follow him anywhere, you also welcome the idea of seeing new places. “So, I guess neither of us know what we want.” you say with a soft laugh, feeling a little silly for bringing it up.

“I know what I want.” he says matter of factly, giving you a wink as he raises his cheek off your chest again to look up at you. You feel your cheeks heating up as you look down at him, unable to fight off the smile forming on your face. He leans up and kisses you softly, like a promise, almost as if saying “we’ll figure this out.”

Once he pulls back, he gets up quickly, straddling your lap and starting to tickle your sides, hoping to take your mind off of the hard questions with no real answers hanging in the air. You let out a loud, surprised laugh, starting to squirm under him as you try to push his hands away. You cry out a breathy “stop, stop” as he keeps tickling you, a shrug on his face. Once he’s sure your conversation is forgotten about, he eases up, planting a big, audible kiss on your cheek. He admires the way your eyes crease when he pulls back, the dazed expression in your eyes, and how your smile is plastered to your face, and his heart swells. 

He gets up, mumbling a quick “I’ll be right back” as he leaves the room, keeping your hands together, dangling between you for a moment before he finally turns and goes to the bathroom.

While you lay on his bed and wait for him, you think about your plans with your roommate to go to a local farmers market tomorrow, and you figure you should start planning your outfit before you forget and have to throw something on at the last minute. You go to reach for your phone, but you remember it’s still on Evan’s desk, charging. You look over at Evan’s phone on the bed, and decide to reach for it instead, sitting up as you do. You only want to know the weather, and you know his password anyway, so you figure he won’t mind.

When you pick up his phone, you’re met with a text notification on the lock screen from Sabrina. You furrow your brows, thinking about when you met her a number of weeks ago. You can’t help the nerves creeping into your belly, thinking about how shamelessly she was flirting with him, and you can feel your heart start to race a little. You trust him, and you don’t want to do anything to make him think you don’t, but thinking about her texting him still makes your stomach churn.

When you swipe up to unlock his phone, however, the phone thinks you clicked on the message, so when you put in his password, you’re immediately faced with their conversation. You’re met with a picture of her in a bikini, posed at the beach, looking absolutely stunning. You suck in a shaky breath, eyes roaming over her slim waist, and her small thighs, and dread fills your belly. The only other thing you see before you hear Evan’s footsteps outside his door is her newest text below the picture.

Sabrina: heyyy, there’s a party at delta phi on friday. you going? ;)

You slam the phone down before he comes in, plastering a fake smile to your face when his eyes land on you. He raises a brow, taking in your unsure eyes and fidgeting fingers as you sit on the bed.

“What’s up?” he asks, closing the door and walking back over to the bed. You shrug, still smiling as he lays down on his side, propped up on his elbow.

“Nothing.” you say softly, looking down at your fingers, turning the ring on your middle finger, trying to slow the thoughts swarming in your brain. Were you just taking his “I know what I want” as something completely different? Was he acting so unsure with you because he didn’t want to tell you that he didn’t want to keep seeing you yet? Was he just a really good liar?

“What’s going on in that pretty little head, huh? Talk to me, princess.” He pulls you out of your thoughts, and for a moment, his soft voice almost works to calm your nerves. But then the picture comes back into your brain, and you feel like you’re going to throw up. You had slowly begun to let your guard down, opting to not suck in your plush tummy when his hands ghost across it, and not feeling awkward when he puts a hand on your thigh. You feel your insecurities bubbling to the surface again; of course he’s looking at her.

“Nothing.” you say again, a little sharply. He’s taken aback by your tone, and his eyes widen slightly, confused by your sudden switch up. “Can we please just drop it? I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

He knows you, and he knows pushing you further will make you shut down even more, so he begrudgingly agrees, mutters a quiet “okay.” He turns onto his back and faces the ceiling, opting to stay quiet and give you a minute as you fall further and further into your own mind. He reaches for his phone beside him, and turns it on. His heart falls when he sees that it opens to his conversation with Sabrina. He sighs, sitting up and nudging your leg with his arm, wanting you to look at him.

“Baby, I-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Why do you still talk to her?” you ask him softly, tears threatening to spill. You know you can’t be mad at him for talking to her before you started dating, but him still letting her send those pictures makes your heart clench.

“Will you let me explain, princess? Please?” he asks desperately, fighting the urge to touch you. He knows he should let you have your space right now; that pulling you into his arms would only make you more upset. You nod once, looking up at him as you chew on your lip anxiously. You can’t wait to hear what he has to say, but you’re also dreading it just as much.

“I still have a class with her. She still flirts with me sometimes in class, but I don’t do anything about it, I swear. She’s been asking when we should hang out, but I keep brushing her off, so I guess she finally got fed up and decided to text me again.” he tells you, eyes boring into yours as he searches for any hint that you don’t believe him. You listen intently, a tear finally escaping your eye as you reply.

“Why is she still sending you pictures? Why are you letting her?” Your voice cracks slightly as you speak, and you reach up quickly to wipe the tear from your cheek. He sighs, tilting his head to the side as his eyes soften. He clenches his fist as he tries not to reach out to you, finally understanding why you’re so upset.

“Baby, did you see the timestamp on that text? It was from August. Before we met.” he tells you, eyes locked on yours. Your brows furrow at his words, mouth going dry. You hadn’t even thought to check; you were just so focused on her. He opens the conversation and holds the phone out for you to see, and you see that he’s telling the truth. You feel so stupid, and you let out a big breath, looking down as you laugh weakly.

“I didn’t see that.” you say quietly, feeling more tears running down your cheeks, although you’re not sure why. He’s very clearly not cheating on you.

“Yeah, I guess not. Come here, princess.” he tells you, pulling you into his arms, hugging you tightly. You hug him back, sniffling softly, feeling extremely stupid.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.” you whisper, laughing at yourself. He chuckles as well, shaking his head.

“You thought you just caught your boyfriend cheating on you. I think a few tears are allowed.” he tells you softly, his tone slightly teasing. You laugh again, sniffling as you pull back.

“I’m glad you’re not.” is all you can manage to say as you look at him, leaning into his touch as he reaches up to wipe your tears.

“You think I’d do that to you?” he teases, but you can see a hint of seriousness in his tone. He knows that cheating definitely isn’t uncommon, but he doesn’t feel good about you thinking that he would, despite your reasoning being very valid. He relaxes slightly when he sees you shake your head, a smile making its way onto his face again.

“You haven’t given me a reason to. I wasn’t purposely looking through your messages. I was just gonna check the weather, and I clicked the wrong thing.” you explain with a shrug, looking down as you fidget with your ring again. You don’t want him to think you were snooping; you really don’t want him to think you don’t trust him.

“Well, I’m glad you trust me. Because I would never hurt you. And I know saying that means nothing, so I’m gonna keep showing you that. As long as you’ll let me.” he tells you earnestly. He leans in to rest his forehead on yours, and one of his hands moves to the side of your neck, holding you there.

“Yeah? Promise?” you get out in a teasing tone, although your heart is hammering in your chest at his words.

“Promise.” he tells you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky smile. You giggle and link your pinky with his, looking into his eyes until he launches himself at you and pins you against the bed, kissing you deeply.

next chapter

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[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Three

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Just fluff, y’all deserve it lol

Notes: I’ve had this chapter written for a long time already and this week I’ve just kept adding to it lol I also tore my thumbnail off at work so I’ve been typing on my phone with my index finger and it’s pissing me off, I apologize if I fuck up some spelling bc of it. Enjoy our boy being back and not holding anything in anymore🥰

Word Count: 3500

Series Masterlist

•March 18th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

I don’t know what’s worse. Watching Jasper leave, or standing in front of him months later completely unprepared to see his face ever again.

Jasper Hale is here, he’s real, he’s home.

I can’t breathe all over again. I just-

My body collides with his before I even realize I’m moving. Wrapping my arms around his neck feels like a puzzle piece clicking into place. He’s solid against me, slightly chilly but real. I can’t believe it, I inhale for the first time since opening the door and it really is him-the scent of pine and everything Jasper slides right into my lungs and clicks against my heart. My breathing is noticeably choppy and I can barely contain the sob lodged in my throat. One hand wrinkles his shirt in a fist at his shoulder while the other grips his beautiful blonde hair at the base of his head, my eyes squeeze shut to hold in the tears from the overwhelming feeling of having him this close again.

“You-you��re home.” I choke out, the lump in my throat almost impossible to slip words past.

His arms close around me delicately picking me up off my feet, like I’m made of porcelain. He hasn’t moved an inch otherwise, almost as if he’s thinking that I might be a dream too. I feel his chest expand and his arms cinch down a little tighter, bands of steel that aren’t releasing me anytime soon.

“I’m here darlin’, I’m home.” Jasper whispers into my neck.

“You can’t-don’t leave-“ I stutter, words failing me, hands starting to shake.

“Shhh sweetheart, I’m here.” He smooths a hand down the back of my head and cradles it against his shoulder.

Tears start to fall in a steady flow at the reassurance in his voice, words I’ve needed to hear for a long time now clanging through my soul. He’s here and I don’t know for how long, but he’s here.

Jasper steps forward into my house with me still enveloped in his arms, nudging the door to slam shut with the toe of his boot, he stops.

“Couch?” He asks, as if he’s unsure what to do next.

I nod into his neck, I could probably let go and walk myself, but I can’t release him just yet. He moves us over to the couch and as he sits, I pick my legs up to lay across his lap, a hand drifting down my thigh to guide me into a comfortable position. It’s like time picked up right where we left off, a shudder running through me at the familiarity of him.

“Darlin’, I need to see that gorgeous face of yours.” He says in that southern accent that’s like a spear to my heart. I want to shake my head, I’d prefer to stay in this bubble locked around him. Instead I do the reasonable thing, my arms relax the death grip I have on his neck as I lean back to look into his eyes.

“There you are, sweet girl.” He whispers with a grin, dark brown eyes tracking the tear stains running down my cheeks. His thumbs reach up to swipe away the wetness as he places a kiss to my forehead before taking a deep breath.

“Why on earth would you try to-to kill-” He struggles with the words in a way that clenches my heart.

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself. It was recreational diving.” I pick at the edge of my sweatshirt and I feel him shift.

“Alice couldn’t see you come out of the water, I was so scared, you… You can’t do that.” Jasper pushes some fallen strands of hair behind my ear, staring at where his cold finger meets my warm skin.

“Can’t do what?” I challenge, meeting his eyes as defiance flairs in me.

“Scare me. Put yourself in a situation where I might lose you.” His answer is warming and bold, but it delivers a blow to my chest.

“Like when I lost you six months ago?” Fuck, the lashing is out of my mouth before I could think, but I stand by it nonetheless.

He takes a deep breath, glancing around the living room before nodding.

“I’m sorry…” my voice is small as I whisper the apology, I truly didn’t mean to snap.

“Sweet girl…” he drifts off and closes his eyes, missing the pink on my cheeks from the nickname. “You have no idea, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The most scared I’ve ever been - that night in September and today.”

“You have no idea, Jasper. It’s not so easy to live without you either. To wonder if you’re alive. If you’ve moved on without me.”

He opens his almost pitch-black eyes and gapes at me like a fish out of water. How could this man think so low of himself that he can’t see how much I care for him?

“Have you been feeding?” I ask him, worry lacing my tone as I take his cheeks in my hands.

“When I need to, it turns out that not a lot matters besides you. You also scaring me to death kind of does that to a man.” He responds with a pointed look and a smirk tugging on his lips, his hands tightening their hold on my waist.

I blush again, not used to him being so open with his thoughts and feelings. “Oh hush.” I flash a sad grin back, the dark circles under my eyes an obvious sign I know exactly how he feels.

“You look tired sweetheart, maybe-“ he begins.

“No.” I interrupt him, there’s no way I’m taking my eyes off him any time soon, not even for a nap.

Realization dawns on him as I stare a hole into his chest, the grip I have on his shirt unyielding like it’s the only thing tethering me to earth. “Y/n, let’s go upstairs and you can take a nap, I’ll stay with you the entire time. You need some sleep, doll.”

“You-you’ll stay with me? You won’t leave?” I ask as he picks me up bridal style in his arms and begins walking to my room.

“I won’t leave, not until you ask me to.” He reassures my fears, no doubt catching the distress pouring off me in droves at just the thought of letting him go even for a simple nap.

“You’ll be okay laying with me?” I ask, concerned about making his hunger uncomfortable.

“Sweetheart,” he starts while ascending the stairs, “I’ve gone too long without you, I can wait a little longer to take care of myself.”

I sink into his arms a little further, my eyelids beginning to feel the weight of all the sleep I haven’t been getting since he’s been gone.

“Sleep, I’ve got you.” He murmurs into my hair, placing a kiss as he turns the corner to my room.

He sets me down on one side of the bed, the sheets unmaid making it easy to pull up and cover me. He speeds to the opposite side of my bed, toeing his shoes off before sliding under the sheets with me. He keeps his distance, facing me on his side with an arm propping up his head so that he could study me.

I turn my body to mirror his, “You’re not staying all the way over there, are you?” I ask mildly offended.

He lets out a chuckle, “Guess not.” He opens his arms to let me wiggle in closer, I press my nose to his chest and pause. “What is it?” He asks, immediately sensing my hesitation.

“Can I?” I lift my leg a little as if in question, too scared to ask something so intimate out loud.

He slides a chilly hand down my leg to grasp the back of my knee to hike over his thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake and not just because he’s cold from the lack of sustenance in his system.

I sigh as I settle in, body finally able to relax for the first time in a very long time. I feel myself drift off as he rubs my back and whispers, “Sweet dreams darlin’, I’ll be here when you wake.”

Blissful all-encompassing darkness finally drags me under peacefully for the first time in months.

Jasper

I’m in Y/n’s bed, actually holding her and breathing her in. It’s like a soothing balm spreading over the exposed live wires of my sanity that have been buzzing uncomfortably since the day I ran from her. Gazing down at her sleeping face, I can tell the last few months have taken their toll on her too. Her forehead has more crinkles from stress, the dark circles under her eyes standing out against her delicate skin. Her lips aren’t quite as full as I remember, no doubt related to the volume missing in her cheeks from lack of nourishment. She’s still gorgeous, devastatingly so, but I know her well enough to notice the small changes.

I take a deep breath to let her scent flow in me, to heal the piece I’ve been missing for months, her hand tightens it’s hold on my shirt. I had no idea my absence would have such a prominent effect. I figured she could live without me simply the way she had before me.

As I gaze around her room to take in the disorganization, I hear her breathing pick up. Glancing back down I spot her nose scrunching up and a scrunch in her brow, in addition her heartbeat begins a steady increase. A nightmare, I can sense the fear and loneliness in her emotions.

“Darlin’,” I murmur softly into the soft skin of her temple as I run a hand down her back, “Wake up darlin’, it’s just a dream.”

She snaps awake with a sharp inhale, “Jasper?” Y/n asks, “You’re still here?”

“I’m here, do you want to talk about your dream?” I ask while I hook some loose strands of hair that escaped her bun behind her ear.

“Doesn’t matter now, you’re here.” She replies, her hands roaming my chest like she’s trying to convince herself of her own words.

God I’m so stupid for leaving this girl.

“Let me… Let me go take a shower so I can feel like myself again. You…?” Her question drifts off like she’s afraid to ask me to stay, like it isn’t her right to make demands like that.

“I’ll be here when you get out sweetheart, take as long as you need.” I end my reassurance with a kiss to her forehead, I can’t get enough of touching her again.

“Okay.” She whispers as she peels herself from where her body is intertwined with mine. I’m not used to the intimacy, but I’m more than happy to oblige my girl.

My girl.

That would require me to make her my girl. Require me to talk about my feelings for her, to make up for my horrible actions, for leaving her alone when she needed me.

I watch her shuffle around her room gathering clean clothes to wear for the night as I scoot back on her bed to lean against the headboard, hands folding in my lap content to just observe. The organization of her room only known to her as she picks up and discards articles of clothing that don’t satisfy her.

I lean forward from my resting place against her headboard and reach a hand back to grab the collar of my hoodie to remove it. As I’m yanking it off, my cotton T rides up flashing her a view of my stomach and I know she catches it based on the change of her scent.

A smirk graces my lips as I extend my hoodie towards her, “Here, sweetheart.”

Stunned eyes blink back up to my face as nervous hands grasp my jacket, “Thank you.” Whispered quickly from her lips.

Once she has what she needs, she pauses in the doorway to the hall, turning back to look at me.

“Go, before I’m tempted to undress you myself.” I smirk at the blush that dusts her cheeks, having reached my goal of bringing color back to her beautiful face. Effectively flustered, she rushes down the hall to her bathroom.

Reader

Wiping the condensation from the mirror, I grimace at the reflection. When did I start to permanently look tired? I let out a huff and check the time on my phone, I slept less than an hour in his arms. Not bothering to blow dry my hair, I ditch my dirty clothes in the hamper and walk back to my room.

Jasper’s eyes immediately find mine, “What’s wrong doll?” He asks, definitely having heard me fuss over my reflection in the bathroom.

“I’m just… still tired.” I offer as I turn to hang up the towel I used for my hair on the back of my door.

“C’mere.” He slides back down the bed from his position at the headboard and opens the blankets for me

I climb back into bed and scoot close to him, my forehead inches from his as I gaze into his dark eyes. I half expected him to be a figment of my imagination when I returned from my shower. We don’t say anything to each other, but it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself and it’s new, but also not at the same time. Don’t get me wrong I absolutely love it and I can’t stop touching him either, but it’s different now-I’ve gone so long without him.

“Jasper?” I whisper into the quiet of my room.

“Yes sweetheart?” He responds, halting the hand drawing circles on my arm.

“What are we doing?” I wonder out loud, unable to continue this limbo with him, my nerves shot to hell.

“Well,” he leans in, one hand moving to cup the back of my head, “I’d like to…” his nose bumps mine and I can’t breathe. He’s going to kiss me, Jasper Hale is going to-

Right when I feel his lips ghost mine, his phone rings, ruining the peaceful moment. With a groan and a clench of his jaw, he turns to grab his phone from my nightstand, Alice’s name flashing on the screen.

“This better be important.” He says by the way of a greeting to his adopted sister, as he’s staring at me with those pitch-black eyes. There’s hunger there and I’m not entirely sure it’s for blood this time, I shiver and he catches the movement immediately.

“Mary Alice-“ he manages to force her full name from a clenched jaw.

“Yes-yes I know, I’m sorry, but it’s Edward.” She proceeds to launch into an explanation as he sits up, concern taking over his features as I overhear Alice explain their situation in Volterre.

Wait-Volterre as in Europe? Are Alice and Bella in Europe? What’s wrong with Edward?

Jasper turns to give me a reassuring half-smile, sensing the turn in my emotions.

Shortly the call with Alice ends and he turns to me fully, “What’s going on?” I question before he can manage an explanation.

“I chose to come home the same time Alice came to check on Isabella, after you two decided to do some… recreational cliff diving at the reservation and Alice couldn’t see the outcome. I decided to come with her because I had to see you with my own eyes, the opportunity to see you again was something I couldn’t pass up anymore.” He began, looking down at his hands nervously. “Edward… He called Bella’s home phone requesting to speak to her father and Jacob answered. Informed him that Charlie was planning a funeral, but didn’t mention that it was for Harry Clearwater. So now… now he’s in Volterre asking for death from The Voltouri.”

“Who are the Voltouri?” I asked, worry creeping in for Edward. “Why would he ask them for such a thing?”

His eyes meet mine, soft even though his hunger shines clear. “Darlin’, he thinks Bella is dead. The Voltouri are the governing body to our vampire race. They’re judge, jury, and executioner rolled into one, full of very powerful beings.”

“Okay, but clearly she’s alive! And on her way to meet him, why would he want to die?” I press him harder, worried for my friends.

“He isn't answering his phone, his mind has been made up, which is why Alice is racing the clock to get to him. Isabella is his singer, honey-“ his hands reach for mine as I interrupt him.

“Singer? What in the world is that?” I demand, my patience thinning at the anxiety of the situation.

“A blood singer is a vampire’s greatest temptation,” he begins, now unable to meet my questioning gaze, looking at our intertwined fingers instead. “They’re blood sings, or in other words, is irresistible perfection for their vampire. In some cases they are the potential mate for the vampire. A singer isn’t like that for all vampires, usually just for the one. A life without them is extremely dull in comparison once you’ve found them.” He concludes.

“Sounds like you’re familiar with the feeling,” I mumble self-consciously. “Have you had a singer?”

The sharp exhale he forces out snaps my eyes to his. “Yes.” He answers truthfully.

“Oh…” My heart sinking, I try to pull my hands from his but he holds tight. “That’s-“

“You, darlin’.” He states matter of factly, one of his fingers lifting my chin, so that he could find my eyes. “You are that for me.”

“I-I’m your singer?” Disbelief and awe seep into my tone.

Jasper’s fingers drift down my neck following the path of my pulse, his dark gaze following their trail. “Yes Y/n, you’re mine.”

I shiver at the pure possession in his voice and the dangerous glint in his eyes. I wonder if he knows how that sounded, like there was no room for negotiation - like it’s more than my blood he wants.

“Honey, you keep those thoughts up and we’re in trouble.” He grinds out, a war raging behind his eyes.

“Jasper…” I trail off as I climb over the remaining space separating us and into his lap, like a magnet drawn to its counterpart.

“Does this mean we’re… Mates?” I ask, not really sure of what that implies.

“Yes,” Jasper takes a moment to seemingly gather his thoughts, “you need to tread very lightly, little one.” His voice a deep vibration in the quiet room, his hands flexing on the comforter of my bed.

“Oh my god, you haven’t eaten and I-“ I stutter out as I rise from my position in his lap. I’m his fucking singer and I’m pushing his limits while he’s hungry!

“Now that you know everything… I need to hunt. I think I’ve tested all the patience and luck I’m going to get today.” He states with his black eyes still locked on mine.

I leaned against my dresser a few feet in front of him and fold my arms over my chest, a little insecure under his intense gaze now that his proximity isn’t overriding my rational thoughts.

“Go, go hunt. But please, come back to me?” I ask him.

He rises from the edge of my bed, slowly closing the gap and resting a hand on my cheek softly. I lean into it, closing my eyes and turning to press a kiss to it before meeting his eyes again. His lips part as if he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction, “I’m yours now - have always been, but now I know I don’t have the strength to do that again, to abandon you.” He reassures my fears quickly. “It’ll be a few days, to properly prepare myself, but I promise you’re my first stop when I’m back.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Hale.” Feeling better about him leaving now that I have his word. Jasper leans down to place a lingering kiss to my forehead, his cool lips feeling like heaven on my heated skin.

“Be safe while I’m gone, please.” He whispers into my hair, his thumb sweeping my cheek back and forth adoringly. I nod since my throat feels like I’ve swallowed cotton, sad that I’m forced to be without him for a few days after just getting him back.

He steps away from me toward my open window, where the cool spring air drifts in. Glancing back for one last look before making his exit, I catch his eyes scanning every inch of my body.

He’s out of the window in the next fraction of a second, not even a whisper of footsteps in his wake. I wrap myself a little tighter in his hoodie, his intoxicating scent soothing the ache that’s beginning to return, reminding me he’s here.

He’s home, Jasper Hale came home to me.

Next

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[dimlylittorch]

18+ MDNI

Club owner!John Price x transmasc!chubby!sweetheart!innocent!reader

I’m just craving to write something so self serving y’all- very much my kind of thing i like to read so I hope someone else might enjoy it too💀

My Masterlist🌿

It wasn’t your first time in a club, of course. You went once with one of your college clubs, so that totally counts right? Then again, that was just a basic campus dive bar. This place was a little more high end, but it came with great reviews.

You decided to dress casually- I mean it was basically a bar with extra add ons right? Who wouldn’t dress comfortably? Slipping into a slightly baggy Hawaiian shirt and some solid colored shorts to accommodate, you walked in front of your bathroom mirror and looked yourself over. A usual outfit for you, but you picked one of your prettier ones for the benefit of the doubt. A tan colored shirt with a dark red and green rose pattern on it.. who wouldn’t think it’s cute? And doesn’t everyone love to feel like they’re on vacation when at a bar? It was simple, really. You couldn’t see any reason not to wear it.

That is until you walk into the place.

Women wearing nice dresses, some men in suits.. you stuck out like a sore thumb. You already feel the embarrassment rising in your cheeks as you start to get stares, but you quickly calm yourself. Standing out is good. If they’re staring for that long, they must like my outfit, right? Maybe someone will ask me where I got it- which leads to a conversation, which leads to no more embarrassment. Everything’s fine.

You smiled softly to yourself as you eased your anxious thoughts, walking up to the bar and leaning over it a little rather than sitting at a stool.

“Could I just get an ice water please?” You ask sweetly with a smile to the bartender, earning you a questioning look. Your brain quickly tries to rationalize why he looked at you that way- many people didn’t order water a lot so he didn’t know what kind of glass to put it in? “You can just put it in a whiskey glass- makes me feel fancy” you beam at him. Of course, the bartender still was confused, but you didn’t pay any mind. You didn’t think he had any reason to he confused, so you didn’t worry about it.

Once you get your water, rather than sitting at a table you start to make your rounds, gently wandering around the club, lots of eyes on you, which you ignore with a smile to every persons gaze you catch. As you wander, you reach the more strip club-esque area, dancers on stage and walking around with lots of people sitting and watching. Men cheering and women laughing. You decide to grab a seat right in front of the stage, pulling out your wallet and pulling out the few bills you had. It wasn’t much, but it seemed rude to not tip the dancers.

The next performance starts and a woman starts her dance in front of you, meeting your gaze once or twice. You weren’t like the usual customer, not eye fucking her and practically salivating in your seat. You were actually watching her dancing, enjoying the performance like most people should. At the end of the routine, most people start throwing bills at her on stage, which to you seemed a little rude. You gently stand from your seat, leaning forward and offering her your money instead, earning you points and laughs from most of the other patrons.

“You did really well” you say softly with a genuine smile as she takes the money before you sit back down meekly, knowing everyone was making comments about you.

That was definitely a new experience for her, not often being treated with respect at her night job. She heads to the back after her performance, seeing her boss walking by.

“How did tonight go?” He asks with a cigar hanging from his lips.

“Not too bad. Made a decent amount.” She sighs softly. “The funniest thing though- there’s some kid out there, being all sweet and handing me the money.” She chuckles. “Poor thing got laughed at pretty hard.” She adds before she heads down the hallway.

John’s ears perk up at her words, his eyes turning towards the door that leads to the audience. He decides to peek out into the crowd, and his eyes land on a young man in a Hawaiian shirt, slipping his wallet into his pocket before he stands up from his seat and starts to leave the performance area. John’s curiosity is peaked. How is it that a sweet looking kid like that managed to wander into his club?

As you leave the performance area, you start to turn back towards the bar area, when you hear a voice behind you.

“Didn’t like the performance enough to stay?” A rough voice speaks from behind you. You quickly turn around, looking up at a tall man in a dark suit with a white button down, a few of the buttons undone so you could see some of his chest hair peeking out. He was definitely older- but also definitely attractive. Your eyes widen at his words, finally registering what he said.

“No! No- no, not at all” you ramble out quickly. “It was great- I just-“ you chuckle, clearly anxious about saying the wrong thing. He was pretty intimidating to look at. “I ran out of cash. And I didn’t want to not tip the next performers.” You add softly.

John smirks at how anxious you are around him, fully prepared to attempt to make you flustered. “Or maybe you just don’t like men.” He smirks as he gestures to the next performance, a male dancer taking the stage this time. He watches your eyes widen as your gaze catches the dancer, your cheeks heating up ever so slightly before you look away shyly.

“I-“ you start to whisper, but he quickly cuts you off.

“You like how he looks, hm?” He murmurs amusedly. “His name is Soap. Why don’t you come sit with me. We can watch him together.” He offers with a smirk.

Your cheeks are already red from standing in front of one of the most attractive men you’ve seen in a while- but the thought of watching a strip show with him? Jesus. How could you say no?

“Alright” you say softly, shyly following him to a nicer table in what seemed to be the V.I.P section. You set your glass of ice water on the table, glancing around absentmindedly before you look up to him. “Are there any coasters?” Your soft voice speaks.

John can’t help but let out a soft chuckle at your words, leaning back in the booth and raising his arms over the back of it.

“No coasters.” He murmurs. It occurs to him that I probably have no idea who he is. No idea that he owns this club. It’s the innocence as a whole that intrigues him.. the genuine smile, casual clothing.

“Right” you whisper softly, taking the glass off of the table and holding it on your lap, much to his amusement. As he watches the dancer on stage, you carefully glance over his form, taking him in. He was tall, well built, but not too muscular. He had a pouch on his stomach area, but who doesn’t love a dad bod? He looks.. good. Really good. Sure, plenty of guys are attractive, but he just seems to have all of the good qualities mixed into one man. Strong, yet soft, intimidating but not scary. You felt safe with him, surprisingly.

“You’re new here.” He murmurs as he looks across the crowd, paying attention to the performance, as if making sure the routine is going as it should. “Yeah.” You say softly as you sip your water. “I don’t drink much.” You add quietly.

“But you’re here?” He questions as he looks at you, his eyebrow raising slightly. “Forgive me for wanting to adventure out a little.” You chuckle softly. “It seemed.. nice. The ratings were good.” As he’s about to reply, a round of applause starts off, Soap’s routine having ended. You quickly set your glass in between your legs, clapping as you look towards the stage with a smile.

“He did really well” you smile at John when you glance over at him. John smirks slightly when he sees your smile, and he reaches over, grabbing the glass from in between your legs and holding it.

“Wouldn’t want your thighs to get cold, love.” He murmurs with a small smirk as he looks off towards Soap. Before you can reply, the stage is set for a new performance, and a freshly dressed Soap approaches the booth.

“How’d I do, sir?” He grins down at John.

“As good as ever” he smirks as he gestures to me. “Soap, this is my new friend..?”

“Y/n” you say with a sweet smile towards Soap. It’s a little awkward considering you were just watching him grind against a stage. “You’re a really good dancer”

Soap grins and puffs out his chest slightly with a smirk. “I’m a good dancer in private too, if you ever happen to be interested” he winks.

“Oh buzz off Johnny. I’m sure there are plenty of people waiting for you back stage.” John scoffs.

Your cheeks redden slightly, a shy chuckle slipping past your lips, making John glance over at you.

“Unless you’re interested, love.” He murmurs with a curious gaze.

Your eyes meet his and they widen slightly. “No! No-“ you say quickly. “I mean- I’m flattered- you’re- you’re very pretty” I chuckle shyly as your eyes meet Soap’s. You see grins starting to form on both of their faces, and your cheeks heat up further. “I- um” you stutter. “Thank you for the offer” you finally manage to spit out.

Both of the men start to chuckle amongst themselves, Soap leaning over the table to get a better look at you.

“Pretty boy, you’re allowed to say yes” he smirks. “Unless I’m not your type..” he fake pouts a little.

As he leans closer, your hearts speeds up a little. “You are” you whisper softly. “I’m just.. probably not a good candidate” you murmur with an apologetic smile.

Soap offers a small smile, standing back up with a nod. “No worries, pretty boy. I’m always around if you change your mind” he winks before he pats John’s shoulder, then heading off backstage.

John smirks as he sees your reddened cheeks, his gaze affectionate. “Not a good candidate, eh?”

You sigh softly, taking a sip of water. “Trans” you murmur without much more explanation. “By the time I explain it to people, the mood is ruined.”

“You kidding?” I laughs. “Soap will fuck just about anything. No need to be worried about that in here” he murmurs as he finishes his glass of whiskey. “Cmon. I’m taking you back” he says as he stands up, holding out his hand.

You glance at his outstretched hand, blinking a little in confusion. After a few moments you take it, standing up and letting him lead you backstage.

tips and requests are open :D

haven’t been on my writing game lately so i’m sorry if this wasn’t that great!

[wizzdot]

The Patron Saint of One Way Trips

Ch2

Description- the second chapter! I don’t know if I warned y’all that it’s gonna be the slowest of slow burns. You’re welcome! Anyway, Laika meets the 141 in this chapter and she is terrified of them all! Poor girl. Of course, sweet, handsome Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick is the first to gain her trust. 🫶🏼

(Cont from Ch1 - link below)

I stand in a sort of semi-shocked state, just staring at the man. It was probably only for two seconds before he moved and shook me from my stupor, but it felt like time had frozen. I make a dive for the door and have almost made it through before I hear Dr Dimitrov's voice bellow down the hallway. I then feel a rough arm wrap around my waist and a hand cover my mouth. He whispers harshly in my ear "must'a been hiding like a little mouse in here" shaking me slightly to make me move with him into a better defensive position against the incoming tide of guards. I start rapidly shaking my head, trying to fight against his tight hold on my mouth. My eyes wide and terrified.

"Sit still, lass. You'll get us both in trouble." My eyes flash towards his as he starts tying my wrists with a makeshift bandage wrap to keep me secure. "You'll stay behind me - d'ya speak english, lass?". I nod my head. Obedience gets rewarded. That's what I had learnt over the years in this facility.

"You a hostage?" - I shake my head, no.

"Are ya' one of them..?" - my eyes must give me away. Technically, yes, I am one of 'them', but do I want to be? No, I do not. I just stare back at him. His eyes narrow, eyeing me with suspision now.

Dr Dimitrov's voice grows louder, as does the crashing of cell doors and the shouts of "CLEAR" from the guards. The sound of gun shots crashes to life. I’m shaking like a lead. All of a sudden the man's radio crackles. It's the smooth voice again.

"Soap - careful, they're looking for the asset. He's dangerous. Get out of there and clear the area. We have the hallway covered. Over."

He pushes me further back and keeps his large hand tightly around my lower face, squeezing tightly, almost to the point of pain.

"Bit of an issue, Gaz. Found a little lass in a cell. No sign of the asset though. Leaving in five - cover me." I shake my head against his grip. I wanted to tell him. It's me they're after. It's me. I'm the asset. But I'm scared. And obedient. I don't bite. Yes, I am a trained asset with lots of kills to my name, but I don't bite. Before I have time to say anything, I'm shunted by the large man, pushed forward toward the door. Bullets fly - metal and glass shatters and clangs. Everything is blurry. Numb. Apart from the tight hold on my upper arm. Warm. Bruising.

We clear the hallway without too much issue. I'm pushed into another corridor and shoved again to keep me running, faster than I thought I could run with my wrists tightly tied. I gasp, deciding now is as good a time as any, now he hasn't got my mouth covered.

"It's me they want" I breathe

"No, they want the asset. Stay quiet, Lass. We will figure out who you are later." he says roughly.

I shake my head again. "It's me. I'm their asset. They won't stop chasing me. I'm the last one.. Just-"

He cuts me off, shouting into the radio. "I've got the asset. What do I do now?"

"Just shoot me" I whisper. His eyes flash to me over the crackle of his radio.

"Bring him to the exfil point. Is he alive? Over."

"Alive. And She.. He's a she. Over".

The radio goes silent.

"Please. Shoot me. I'm a monster.. Please."

My mouth is covered with another makeshift piece of cloth, fashioned into a gag. I'm pulled off the floor and roughly thrown over his shoulder.

"Shut it, Lass. If I had known you were the asset, you'd be dead already. But orders are orders" He grunts, angrily. A noise escapes my throat, a whine.

The sound of bullets flying begins to dull, the corridors open up to a door - a door that I had never seen before as I had always been transported with a sack over my head. My stomach is sore, his shoulder digs in with every stride he takes. My eyes start to leak. I close my eyes and just sniffle. Weak. Hopeless, again. Not that I ever stopped feeling hopeless in the first place. But, yeah..

I am uncerimoneously slung to the ground and I groan quietly before looking up at the man who had delivered me to whatever fate I now face. He stares back. Blue eyes, dark hair styled in a strange sort of grown out mohawk. Unusual for a soldier. He looks suspicious, or curious. I can't tell. I hadn't been studied like this for a long time. I am utterly predictable to my captors. They knew my triggers and my commands. 'Laika sit, Laika move, Laika shoot, Laika kill, Laika - lick your own wounds, Laika - cage! Bad Laika.'

Every miniscule movement I make is studied by the man with strange hair and blue eyes. I stare back at him with big, wet, sad eyes. I hate being gagged like this, hate being restrained. They do this to me when I am punished for disobedience. He tutts at me. It's a surprising noise to hear coming from him when he had just told me that he would have killed me quicker if he had known it was me.

"Asset secure at exfil point. How far out are you? Over."

"Two minutes, Soap." The reply crackles back.

I continue to stare at him. Two minutes till I'm either killed or tortured. I start to count down. Death would be the best option, but I doubt it would be that easy. I close my eyes and lower my head. I give up. Surrender to whatever is going to happen to me.

I hear three sets of boots approach and smell the thick scent of Alpha. I don't dare open my eyes. I just sniffle quietly with my head down, leaning against the wall where the man with strange hair had dropped me.

"Fuck Soap, is that the asset?"

"Aye, Apparently.."

"Did she put up much fight? We were told she's dangerous."

"Quiet as a wee mouse.."

"You sure it's her.. how do you know..?"

"She said it wis her.. wanted me tae shoot her"

The man, 'Soap', is interrogated by his team. I finally find it in me to open my eyes. I wish I hadn't. I'm surrounded by four massive Alphas, armed up to the eyeballs, all staring down at me. I flinch. I inhale sharply as one of them, with unusual facial hair and a floppy hat, steps forward. I try to shuffle away before a surspisingly gentle hand falls on to my shin, just below my knee.

"Captain John Price.." he nods in greeting. He has a rough voice.

I look down at the ground and try not to shake. He tutts. Why do people keep tutting at me?

The Captain glances back at the others. "Johnny, this ain't no asset. Get the gag and arm restraints off of her. She speak English?"

"Aye Captain, she does. She told me she wis the last one.."

"Can't be. Not this little thing. She doesn't look like she could harm a fly. What is she, Omega?" He sniffs the air, being unusually respectful - usually Alphas just stuck their nose in my neck and inhaled. "Hmm, no scent. Beta." He concludes.

Soap rushes forward to untie me and I flinch away from him. He steadies his approach but tries to grab my wrists again, I dodge his hands again. A smooth voice, the one I recognise from the radio, pipes up.

"Fuck sake, Johnny. You've scared her. C'mon, let me do it."

He steps forward as Soap, or Johnny, retreats. The Captain steps back too.

"It's okay, just going to get these off. Can I touch you?" The man asks softly.

I stare at him with wide eyes before glancing back up at the others in the team. The Captain seemed trustworthy. Fair. Soap, or Johnny, seemed sharp and unpredictable. This one seems calmer, kinder. Looking at him, I find deep brown eyes with vast softness to his expression. He has kind and honest eyes. My head nods. He steps forward again and slowly lowers himself to my level on the ground. He gently takes my wrists and starts removing the restraints. "You aren't going to try anything once these come off?" He hesitates. I shake my head, no. He then nods and removes them completely.

"Ok, now this.. lean forward so I can get the knot at the back of your head". Obedience is rewarded, my brain recalls. I do as I'm told and lean forward, exposing my scent glands in the process due to the position I am in. He respectfully places his hand on the back of my neck and unties the knot, letting the gag fall free.

"There you go, now.. What is your name?" He asks as he stands up slowly and steps one step away to give me space. I stare up at him and answer his question nervously. "L-Laika..?" I sort of question my own answer, not sure what they were wanting to hear.

He looks round at the others and the Captain beckons him over to the others. "Gaz- here a minute" he calls. Gaz obeys and leaves me with a small smile, I just stare back at him. I watch him walk away from me and glance around, trying to think of my options.

It’s only then that I clock the absolute behemoth of a man with a skull mask. He was terrifying, something from nightmares. I find myself shuffling away from the group. Of course, he is the one who notices my movement and quickly makes a move to stop me.

I release a hollow yelp and leap from my position on the floor. I quickly weigh up my options, there is no point of running from him, he would catch me in three strides, no point of fighting him, he is huge and armed. I do the next thing my stupid brain thinks to do and run and hide behind the kind one, Gaz, I think. He looks just as confused as the others. The scary one stops his approach immediately and stands seperated from the group.

"Thought she was about to leg it." he explains to the others in a voice I can only describe as a growl, rough as gravel. He is terrifying.

I whimper from my hiding spot as he continues to stare at me though his mask. Brown eyes, but not kind - his were hard. Gaz slowly turns to face me, as to not startle me again, he lifts his hand and gently touches my arm to try and comfort me - I remove it from his reach. "Sorry, sorry - look, we aren't going to hurt you, okay? I'm not asking you to trust us but we have a lot to talk about. We need to figure out who you are" he explains softly.

"I'm the asset" I say, "They - they call me Laika." His deep brown eyes don't ever leave mine, I feel a fleeting sense of safety staring back at him.

"If you're the asset, we need to take you back and ask questions. You understand that, yeah?" I nod. I then find myself spilling information before I can think of what I am saying.

“It was me.. the other two assets died. I - I killed lots of people but I was told they were bad. They punished me if I disobeyed, if I didn't complete the objectives correctly.." my voice wobbles.

His gaze leaves mine and looks towards his Captain. "Cap.. what -" he is interupted by his Captain.

“We move out. Gaz, she is with you. She obviously trusts you most. We figure this mess out back at base" the pack leader orders.

They all start to move and Gaz turns back to me. "C'mon, stay close to me. I won't let anything happen to you". I scurry behind him. He doesn't say anything but his inner Alpha preens thanks to the fact he is the one you trust.

We turn a couple of street corners and arrive at a black jeep. The Captain jumps into the drivers seat, the masked man in the passenger seat. I pause. Gaz obviously senses my insecurity.

"Would you rather sit in the middle between us" he glances and nods towards Soap "or.. I can sit in the middle so it's just me.." he asks. I stand in silence, shocked that he actually asked what I was comfortable with. I hadn't been asked for my consent for years and it had happened twice with him in the last ten minutes. He was a kind Alpha.

“J-just you… please" I respond nervously. He nods sympathetically and gets in the car, patting the seat next to him for me. Soap climbs into the seat beside Gaz on the other side of the jeep.

I step into the car and close the door behind me. I feel surrounded and claustraphobic. In the small space of the car, the scent of all four men mix and mingles together. It almost burns the back of my throat. This is strange. I'm not usually sensitive to other designations thanks to the supressants.

I notice, as I shuffle in my seat, that the scary one with the mask is seated directly infront of me. Gaz notices, ever observant of my smallest of tells. "It's fine. None of us will try anything. We aren't feral Alpha pieces of shit, okay?" I slowly nod my head "Ok" I whisper.

He smiles at me. I almost smile back.

[celestialcrowley]

My mom and I were finally able to watch the final episode of Good Omens season 2.

Before we dive in, my mom is very — how do I say this — anti on certain things. My friend said it perfectly. He said she gave him the homophobic put the fear of God type vibes when he first met her.

I don’t believe anything will ever fully change her opinions or views of us. I’ve not even referred to myself as aromantic / asexual in her presence, and I doubt I ever will. I simply tell her I’m done dating. It’s clearly not in my future, and, after trying it a couple of times, it just isn’t something I’m interested in.

I hope that one day she will open her eyes and realize that it’s all fine. Whatever we are. It’s okay.

My mom enjoyed season one. When I asked her what she thought of Aziraphale and Crowley, here’s what she said. Not her exact words but close enough to what I can remember.

“Aziraphale seems like he’s afraid of getting into trouble with Heaven, but not enough to keep him from going against God’s orders.”

Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing.

“Crowley isn’t as evil as he paints himself to be.”

Just a little bit a good person.

The only thing, as far as I’m aware, that didn’t quite sit right with my mom is that God is a She.

Wibbly wobbly timey wimey…

I was terrified for her to watch the second season because of Maggie and Nina and That Big Damn Kiss. She’s told me some less than desirable things previously. Here are a handful of them.

“I won’t watch shows that have gay couples in them.”

“I will watch them, but I’ll just turn my head away when they kiss.”

About my friend who is a lesbian —

“Your friend just says that, but she doesn’t actually know what she is.”

Okay, mom. You go ahead and keep telling yourself that.

I am certain, despite my fear, that I wanted her to watch Good Omens so badly because I thought maybe it would be the golden ticket. It’s uniquely different.

We have been gifted with Anthony J’I’m Not Actually Either Crowley and Mister AZ Smitten I Believe Fell, The Almighty God She, Nina I’m Not Your Type and Maggie You Have No Idea.

I was expecting my mom to frown upon Maggie and Nina’s story in season two, but she didn’t. She actually didn’t even have anything negative to say.

Y’all should have seen me when That Big Damn Kiss was coming up. I was fidgeting probably as bad as Aziraphale was when he was gathering up the courage to ask Crowley to dance with him.

I don’t think I’ve ever fidgeted that much in my life.

And then it happened.

That Big Damn Kiss

And she watched all of it. She didn’t look away. She didn’t make a face. She didn’t say anything negative.

I don’t necessarily think her views have changed because she laughed at something my uncle told her about a former coworker of his. This coworker used to go by Craig, but he later came out as trans and asked to be called Cindy. My uncle said, “The best we can do is Crindy.”

Most of my family are homophobic, and I don’t care for it.

I don’t know if it’s the way Neil Gaiman has written Good Omens, but I was surprised that she watched the entire show, had nothing negative to say and even added that she needs to watch all of both seasons again to better understand it.

That’s something, I suppose.

Maybe she’s coming around.

Thank you, Neil Gaiman.

You truly are a legend. 💚

[vessel-token]

you know what. i was shy when i first posted my writing here but NOT ANYMORE. today i throw myself to the wolves that are the beautiful people of the sleep token fandom and die like a man.

so like um that being said how would we feel about a threeway fic between vessel, reader, and iii… that may or may not be inspired by the way that vessel straddled iii during sugar…..

more details under the cut because i don’t want to blind any innocent scrollers—

(also, nsfw under the cut! MDNI.)

but like to give y’all a rough idea of what i’m thinking;

reader sat naked in vessel’s lap while he teases you, his legs hooked under yours to keep you splayed open on top of him. one hand is resting on the inside of your thigh, reminding you to keep them spread while his other busies itself with playing with your cunt. his fingers slide between your folds, spreading your lips to bare you to your single reverent audience member.

iii’s kneeling between your legs without hesitation, watching almost entranced as vessel opens you up for him. his mask is pulled up just enough to reveal his mouth and he doesn’t waste any time diving in to taste you. vessel lets the other man get to work, placing an encouraging hand on the back of iii’s head and gently urging him to bury himself in your soaked cunt.

sooo what do we think? would you guys want to read that? 😁

please reply and let me know if you’d like me to tag you!

[supernovafics]

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃'𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.8k words

summary: in which a mutual wingman situation forces two strangers to talk to one another. both you and steve are only doing it to help your friends, but it surprises you how effortless talking to him is. simply the idea of love or even deeply liking someone has always made you nervous and scared, and would usually lead you to running away rather than facing your feelings. but, maybe it’s this unfamiliar comfort you find yourself quickly having with steve that can make you finally want to do the opposite of run and actually dive headfirst into what you’re feeling

warnings: explicit language, some drinking, a lil fluff, kissing, implied smut, overall just a fun time

author’s note: first time in a while writing something that is not full of angst and sadness lmao anyway hope y’all enjoy this!<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Steve’s POV

He looked at you from across the bar where you were talking and laughing with your friend. He wasn’t sure what he would say to you. There was something about you that seemed too good for him; the little black dress you were wearing with a slightly oversized jacket on top and the sweet smile on your lips as you animatedly talked to your friend. 

It made him not want to say anything to you because it felt like a rejection would be in his imminent future. However, Robin had other plans. 

“She’s so cute,” She said but was referring to your friend. “You have to wingman for me and talk to her friend while I talk to her, Harrington.” When she noticed Steve’s hesitance, she continued. “What are best friends for, if not helping the other one get laid?”

He rolled his eyes at that and didn’t say anything. 

Robin nudged him lightly. “Also, I’m pretty sure the friend is straight and she’s really cute too, so maybe you’ll have a chance.” 

Finally, Steve said something. “Exactly. She’s so hot and I can already see myself fucking up under the pressure.” He took another quick glance in your direction. 

Robin gave him a soft pat on the shoulder. “I take back everything I ever said about your lack of charm. Those days at Scoops are far behind us. You’re the best flirt I know.”

Steve was quick to take notice of the grimace she was trying to hide behind her forced smile. “Did it actually pain you to say that?”

“A little bit, yeah,” She said with a small laugh. “But, anyway, let’s get another drink, and then we’ll go over there and you’ll be fine. I pro– Wait, shit, shit. They’re walking over here. Toward us.”

Before Robin could narrate any further, you went up to Steve while your friend pulled Robin in for a conversation. 

You pointed at him. “I almost wore that tonight.” 

Even though he knew you were joking, he still glanced down at the jeans and navy blue t-shirt he was wearing over a dark denim jacket. “Good thing you didn’t. One of us would’ve had to leave.”

“Exactly,” You said with a nod. “And that probably would’ve been so awkward for you.” 

“Why would I be the one to leave?”

You shrugged. “I mean I think it would be the obvious choice.” 

“I think I’m a very valuable asset to have here,” He said. “But, I’m also a gentleman, so I would have left, no questions asked.” 

“Very, very honorable of you,” You said and then took a sip from the drink in your hand. Steve could see you trying to hide your smile. All too quickly his nerves from before managed to slip away. 

He nodded his head toward the glass in your hand. “What are you drinking?”

“Vodka cranberry,” You answered before taking another quick sip. “Absolutely horrific but it usually does the job.” You then took notice of the drink in his hand. “Definitely not as horrific as that beer, though.” 

“Hey, you can’t go wrong with a simple beer,” He said, pretending to be much more offended by your statement than he actually was. 

“I think it is very wrong, actually,” You told him. “But, I’m a sweet and nice person, so I won’t judge you any further, even though there is a lot more I could say about that beer.” 

Steve smiled at that. “Very honorable of you.”

A brief lull of silence prevailed for a moment and Steve almost decided to randomly mention how he actually never had a vodka cranberry before, but you started speaking before he could. 

“Okay, full transparency, my friend is interested in your friend, and I’m just trying to be a good friend and wingwoman for her by talking to you.”

Steve laughed a bit. “I was tasked with doing the same thing, actually.”

“Wow,” You responded with a small laugh of your own. “They’re both interested in each other, so I guess our jobs are already done.” 

A small smirk played on Steve’s lips. “Shall we get beers to celebrate a job well done?”

After inwardly cringing at the thought of drinking a beer, you couldn’t help but laugh loudly at Steve’s offer. “You’re the worst.”

“You want another vodka cranberry instead?”

“I will happily take that.” 

He signaled the bartender and ordered the simple drink. As the two of you waited, he turned to look at you.

“I’m Steve, by the way,” He said and then pointed in the direction of where Robin and your friend were now happily talking to one another about ten feet away. “And that’s Robin.” 

“Y/N,” You said and then gestured toward your friend. “And Marissa.”

The bartender slid you your drink and you smiled in thanks before grabbing it. 

“Are you from Indianapolis?” Steve asked.

“No, I moved here from Illinois for a job about a year ago,” You answered and then took another sip from the glass in your hand. “And to be closer to my boyfriend too.” 

Steve pretended that he was unfazed by your casual mention of having a boyfriend, even though he was very much fazed by it. He came to the quick conclusion that the playful banter you two shared was just that, playful banter. There actually weren’t any flirty undertones to it, although he could’ve sworn they were right there. 

“What’s your job?” He asked, even though he wanted to say, “So, tell me more about your boyfriend” because he now wanted to torture himself and hear more about the guy. 

“It’s in marketing. Specifically, working on pitches and ads for different clothing brands.”

“Was that–” Before he could finish asking if that’s what you always wanted to do, Marissa was suddenly in front of the two of you and grabbing your hand. 

“So sorry to interrupt, I’m just gonna steal her for a quick second.” 

Y/N’s POV

You were pulled to a different part of the bar, maybe only fifteen feet away from Steve, and you could see him and Robin now talking. 

“Everything’s going great and she’s so cool and funny,” Marissa told you, a wide smile on her face as she spoke. You hadn’t seen her this giddy about someone in a while, so you felt really happy for her and couldn’t help but smile back. “We wanna go to the roller rink down the street that closes at two. Since we both suck at skating we thought it could be funny to do it together.”

“Okay, that’s great and kind of disgustingly cute,” You responded, still smiling because there was something about Marissa’s happiness that felt contagious. “So, now that my work here is done, I’m just gonna head back to the apartment. Car keys, please?”

“No.”

“What? I promise I’m so sober right now that it’s actually kind of sad,” You assured her. “I only had one full drink and barely a few sips of the other.”

“No, I mean you have to come too just in case something weird happens or I say something stupid and fuck things up and need to get out of there easily,” She explained, and due to her overthinker personality, you could actually understand that reasoning. “Plus she’s gonna make her friend come too, and you guys seemed like you were actually having a good time talking. Maybe it can turn into something a little less friendly, like, hopefully, me and Robin?”

“That might be a little impossible because I already lied and told him I had a boyfriend.”

“Why did you say that?” She asked and you were at a loss for words after hearing her question, because you actually weren’t entirely sure why you lied. You were quiet for too long, which made Marissa follow up with another question. “Oh, is he weird?”

“No, no,” You responded almost immediately. In fact, Steve was pretty much the opposite of weird, he was actually kind of funny and nice. And the almost effortless banter you two managed to share slightly surprised you. “I don’t know why I said it, it was just like a reflex.”

“We gotta talk about this self-sabotage thing you do soon,” She said, and it was in honest moments like that where you were read like a book, that you didn’t like that you’d known your best friend for almost your entire life and that she was currently getting her Masters in Psychology. “Actually, in one of my classes–”

“Nope, nope, nope,” You were quick to interrupt her. “I love you, but I’d rather not be psychoanalyzed tonight.”

“We’ll table that conversation for an early Sunday morning talk over coffee,” Marissa told you, and before you could protest that idea, she continued. “But, anyway, so you’re coming to the roller rink, right?”

After taking a quick glance over at where Steve and Robin were talking to one another, you nodded your head. “Yes, but this feels slightly like a hostage situation.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You and Steve trailed a bit behind Robin and Marissa as you all walked down the street to the skating rink. It wasn’t that cold out, but you could still feel some goosebumps rising on your bare legs.

“Okay, scale from zero to ten,” You started and looked at Steve. “How good are your roller skating skills?”

“I’d say a solid nine. I can’t do any crazy tricks or whatever, but I never fall,” He answered. “You?”

“I’m definitely a two or three. I somehow fall way too easily,” You told him. “So to save myself from a shit ton of embarrassment, I’m not gonna skate tonight. But, I will cheer you all on from the sidelines.”

Steve shook his head at your words. “Since we’re both the extra wheels in this equation we gotta stick together, so I won’t skate either. It’ll be entertaining watching them fumble around, though. Robin’s probably one of the clumsiest people I know. Is Marissa good?”

“She’s just as bad as me,” You answered and then smiled. “So, yes, this will be very entertaining to watch.” 

The two of you were sitting on a bench, watching Marissa and Robin hold hands and go around and around the wooden rink. You and Steve couldn’t help but laugh every time one of them stumbled and grabbed onto the other to regain balance or when they both simultaneously stumbled and then fell completely. But it felt okay to laugh at them because they were laughing loudly at themselves.

“They are so into each other, it’s kind of insane,” You said with a wistful smile as you popped some skittles in your mouth; you had gotten a pack from the vending machine that was by the entrance. You held it toward Steve in a silent offering and when he opened his palm toward you, you poured some into his cupped hand.

“Yeah, they’re disgustingly cute,” Steve responded as he ate the skittles you gave him. “They also probably wouldn’t even notice if we left right now.”

“That’s so true,” You told him, and then almost immediately remembered something. “Wait, shit. Marissa has the car keys, so I can’t even drive home.”

“I can drive you.”

Steve was still practically a stranger to you, so it probably would’ve made more sense for you to say no to him, but you found yourself not wanting to say no to his offer. And you promptly decided that you would not think about why you felt that way. 

“Okay,” You said with a nod and got up from the bench you two were sitting on, and then adjusted your dress which had ridden up a bit.

The two of you finished off the rest of the skittles as you walked back toward the bar and headed to the small parking lot that was attached to it. 

You stepped into Steve’s car and got comfortable in the passenger seat. “Okay, so feel free to say no, but I’m kinda hungry and those skittles weren’t enough, and McDonald's sounds like both a very bad idea but also a very good one right now.”

Steve laughed at that. “I think it's a great idea. And I’m pretty sure there’s one that’s five minutes away.”

“That’s the exact reason why it was on my mind,” You said with a smile and buckled your seatbelt as Steve began driving. 

Barely fifteen minutes later, you two were sat in the McDonald’s parking lot eating burgers and fries in Steve’s car. It was quiet, which made sense since you were both enjoying the fast food that would probably murder your stomachs later, and the only sound filling the car aside from the chewing noises was the random songs playing on the radio. 

You were suddenly hit with the realization that you had never been this comfortable around a guy before. If the circumstances were different, and if it wasn’t Steve sitting next to you right then, you knew that you would’ve been so much more self-conscious about the way you were eating and if you were doing it too “messily.” And you also knew that you’d be so much more worried about the silence because it had never felt this relaxed with someone that you barely knew before. 

“I lied earlier,” You abruptly said as you ate one of the few stray fries you had left. 

“About what?”

You could feel his gaze on you, but you refused to meet his eyes right then because you had a feeling you’d get all flustered if you did, so instead, you kept your eyes trained forward as you answered his question. “I, um, I actually don’t have a boyfriend.”

Steve was quiet for a few moments and you wondered if he was mad at you for lying to him. When you finally forced yourself to look at him, you saw that he was smiling.

You let out a small laugh. “Damn, don’t look so happy that I’m actually single and alone.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just… I don’t know,” Steve trailed off for a second and you looked at him with confused eyes until he said his next words. “I’m glad that it was a lie.”

You didn’t push him further on what he meant by that, mainly because a large part of you felt like you could easily read between those lines, and you couldn’t help but smile a little. 

You simply hummed in response and grabbed your soda from the cup holder and took a sip from what was barely left of it. 

When you placed it back down, you glanced at Steve. “I’m just now realizing how shit my small talk skills are because I never reciprocated and asked you if you’re from here or not.”

“I’ve definitely been thinking about that the entire time we’ve been together,” He told you, and you could hear the joking undertones in his voice. “Something like, ‘Wow, I can’t believe she doesn’t care about my life story. She probably hates me.’”

You laughed despite yourself. “Stop, I really do feel bad. Also, if I did hate you, you’d definitely know it, and I probably wouldn’t be in a car with you right now.”

“Okay, glad to know you like me.”

“Indifference is also not hate, just so you know.”

He placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Ouch.”

“I’m fully kidding. You just set me up too perfectly for that one.” A small laugh fell from your lips. “Anyway, tell me your life story because I do care.”

Steve smiled at that. “I’m not from Indianapolis, but I am from Indiana. Me and Robin used to live in a small town called Hawkins. It’s maybe like two or three hours from here.”

“Why’d you guys come here?”

“Just wanted a change, I guess.”

You turned your head to look at him and he immediately met your gaze. “That answer had the perfect amount of vagueness.”

Steve was quiet for a moment and then he smirked at you. “I actually moved here to be closer to my girlfriend.” 

“The fake boyfriend or girlfriend card can only be used once in a conversation, and since I already used it you gotta give me something else,” You told him, your voice completely serious even though you were trying your hardest not to laugh. 

“Oh sorry, I meant wife, actually.”

You couldn’t help but laugh that time. “Okay, I’ll allow that.” 

He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Hm, but it’s pretty weird to be alone in a car with a random girl when you have a wife at home.”

“She likes when I put myself out there,” He said with a small shrug. 

It was entirely too hard to hide your amused smile, but you still broke eye contact with him and looked straight ahead as you bit your lip to do so. “Very interesting dynamic you two have.”

“Yeah, it works well for us, though.” He nodded and then changed the subject. “Okay, this is random and a completely different topic from me and my fictional wife, but I wanted to ask you this earlier. With your job, the marketing and clothing stuff, was that always what you wanted to do?”

Hearing him ask you about your job slightly surprised you because it had been such a brief part of your conversation earlier that you barely even remembered telling it to him. Your eyes met his again.

“I don’t know. Honestly, not really. It was one of the things that kind of just… happened? When the opportunity fell into my lap I didn’t wanna say no to it, and I really love the job, actually,” You explained, keeping your answer brief and somewhat to the point because there was a lot more that you could’ve said to him about how you ended up where you currently were job-wise. 

Like how you’d felt as if you had been in such a rut in your life before you met Louisa, your now boss, at the coffee shop that you worked at in your hometown. And how she ultimately offered you the job on a random Wednesday after you gave her her usual coffee and then when noticing how irritated she looked as she stared at a campaign that her team had been working on for the past few weeks, you stated that the font should be changed and the slogan should be reworked too, and then offered a suggestion for a new slogan that was near perfect in her eyes. You solved the problem she’d been having for days with such ease that it slightly took her aback and she offered you the job right then and there. And the opportunity kind of felt a little too perfect because even though it was in a different state, you were completely ready for a change and Marissa was already in Indianapolis for college. 

But you didn’t want to ramble too much to Steve right then. 

“Although, it probably doesn’t look like I work with clothes because this outfit kinda sucks.” You then smiled at him. “I should’ve just worn yours like I initially wanted to tonight.”

He let out a small laugh. “What you’re wearing definitely does not suck, it was one of the reasons why I was so nervous to talk to you tonight.”

You had to roll your eyes at that because you fully did not believe him. “Oh, whatever.”

“I’m completely serious,” He told you. “When Robin noticed Marissa and then pointed you out too, I immediately thought you were way too good for me, and my brain shut off completely. It’s a very good thing you guys came up to us because my initial words to you probably would’ve been something very stupid.”

“You thought I was too good for you?” Your words had come out sounding completely confused and a little amused because you were certain that he had to be joking. 

“There was just something about you. Really cool, very hot, a little intimidating.”

You pretended as if you were entirely unfazed by the “very hot” comment, although it made your heart constrict. “What about now? Do you still think I’m “too good”?”

“Oh, definitely.” There was so much certainty behind his two words that you actually felt kinda flattered; mostly confused, but also a little flattered. 

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m probably the opposite of too good,” You said and before he could potentially rebuttal your statement, you continued and slightly shifted the subject. “What about you, though? What’s your job or whatever you do?”

“My dad set me up with this job at his friend’s company here,” Steve answered, his voice was softer, almost as if he was slightly embarrassed by his answer. “Probably one of the only good things he’s ever done for me. But, I do think his main motive was to just get me out of the house; which I was honestly very happy to do.” 

“Another person with parent issues. Glad to know we always somehow manage to find each other. Mine’s with my mom, though,” You said, cracking a small smile and Steve smiled back at you. “But, anyway, do you like the job?”

He was quick to shake his head. “It’s really corporate and feels a little useless.”

You nodded understandingly at his answer. “Do you know what you wanna do instead?” 

Steve was quiet for a few moments and you could tell from the look on his face that he was truly thinking about his answer. “The last few years have been really weird, to say the least, and I had no time to really think about the future. But now that I can, I’m still trying to figure out what I want.” 

There was something about the way he briefly talked about whatever he had gone through back home that told you that he didn’t want to delve further into an explanation about it, at least not right then. So, you didn’t ask him to elaborate, even though you were really curious.

“You’ll figure it out,” You said instead. “Sometimes it’s the random opportunity that falls into your lap that makes you realize exactly what you want and what actually makes you happy.”

What you didn't say, but did realize in that moment, was that maybe he was the “random opportunity” that had fallen into your lap that night. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Hours passed and the two of you kept talking and couldn’t seem to stop. Midnight turned to one in the morning and then one in the morning turned to two, and you were still sitting in Steve’s car, laughing and talking about nothing but also everything.

Something about this moment with him felt significant to you. Like the start of something new, something good. And of course, that scared you a lot, for the same reason you had lied to him earlier about having a boyfriend. But, for the first time in a long time, you felt scared in a good way, if that was even possible. 

You ended up in the parking lot of your apartment building around two-thirty with plans to finally say goodnight to one another. However, you felt so comfortable in his car and with Steve that you found it hard to make yourself leave, even though you were slowly getting more and more tired and Steve easily noticed it.

“You’re falling asleep.”

You turned to him, head still resting against the headrest and eyes still shut. “Only a little bit.”

“Let me walk you upstairs.”

You didn’t necessarily want to leave, but you still gave Steve a small nod because you did feel like you were going to fully pass out at any moment. “Okay. But, you might immediately regret coming up because the elevator in the building is broken and I’m on the fifth floor.” 

“That’s fine. My years of being a high school athlete have prepared me for this moment.”

“Well, in that case, can I request a piggyback ride because I didn’t play sports in school, and I easily get winded walking up these stairs.” 

“I know you’re probably joking but I would happily do that.”

You almost responded with “Piggyback rides are no joking matter,” even though you definitely were joking, but when you finally opened your eyes and noticed the soft smile that Steve was giving you, you immediately felt flustered.

Fuck, you really liked him, and maybe it should’ve been the hours of nonstop conversation and laughter that told you that, but instead, it was him smiling at you like no guy ever had before and practically offering to give you a piggyback ride up five flights of stairs that let you know just how in deep you already were. 

“I don’t think your wife would approve of that,” You finally said and Steve laughed. 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

When the two of you were standing in front of your apartment door, following the trek up the stairs that managed to only slightly wind you, you looked at Steve.

“Thanks for the ride and the food and yeah… Just thanks for everything that happened tonight, really.” It surprised you how nervous you were right then, and if Steve noticed your nervousness, he didn’t make it seem like he did.

“Thank you for everything too. Those skittles were great,” He said and you couldn’t help but smile at that. 

You moved toward your door, but before putting your key in it and saying a final goodbye to Steve, you abruptly turned around and let your mouth move quicker than your brain.

“Can I try something really quick?”

A confused look crossed his face. “Okay?”

You moved closer to him, closing the barely there space between you two, and placed a hand on his cheek. Your other hand found his shoulder and you pushed yourself up on your toes a bit so that you could softly slot your lips against his. You had absolutely no idea where this sudden burst of confidence was coming from, but, at that moment, you forced yourself not to question it and instead jump headfirst into your feelings.

It was easy to tell that Steve was surprised by the kiss, and you almost pulled away and apologized profusely for doing it, but then something switched in a matter of milliseconds and he was oh so quickly kissing you back. Hands found your waist, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his touch through the thin material of your dress. 

You were softly pressed against the door as Steve deepened the kiss, and your hands moved and found home in the hair at the nape of his neck. Everything about that moment felt easy; easy and right. Your mouths moved against each other almost as if it was second nature and it almost upset you how this had not happened sooner because of how right it was. So fucking right. 

And this quickly became one of those moments that you wanted to be etched in your memory forever while simultaneously never wanting it to end in the first place. 

When you finally pulled away, mainly to catch your breath, you looked up at him and smiled. “You taste like onions.”

“So do you. Maybe that McDonald’s really was a bad idea.”

Steve was looking at you so sweetly that it made you want to kiss him again and then a thousand more times after that. However, before you could even get that second kiss in, the door opened behind you. 

You yelped at the sudden action and Steve’s hands immediately tightened on your waist so that you wouldn’t fall back. 

“Oh, shit, my bad.”

It was Robin’s voice and you were confused to see her right then, standing in your doorway, until you noticed Marissa a bit behind her and the slightly disheveled states they were both in. You didn’t want to think about what they had just finished doing. You were also surprised that you didn’t notice Marissa’s car in the parking lot, but your thoughts had mainly been on Steve, so it slightly made sense. 

“Wow, perfect timing, Harrington,” Robin said, and then saw the close proximity between you and Steve. “Unless you two were…?”

“No, we were just saying goodnight,” You told her and then turned to Steve, letting your hands fall from where they were still wrapped around the back of his neck. “Goodnight.” 

Instead of initially responding with a simple goodnight of his own, he leaned down and kissed you again. It was a quick one and when he pulled back, he smiled at you and your flustered expression. “Goodnight.”

“I hate you for that. Now Marissa’s gonna force me to do a huge storytime,” You whispered, only half-heartedly glaring at him because a part of you still felt way too high on cloud nine from kissing him.  

“Make sure to tell her how great I am,” He whispered back and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your heart fluttered at the simple yet tender action as he let go of your waist and moved away from you, he and Robin both started heading toward the stairwell.  

When the door was closed and it was only you and Marissa left alone in your shared apartment, she immediately smiled at you. “Hell yes, so we can do double dates.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes at her excited statement, but you had to admit, you felt a little excited too. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

(((part two!)))

[lavishl0ve]

🩸 Johnny Slaughter x Fem Reader 🩸

!disclaimer!

I love Johnny and he low-key inspired me to write something. This is my first “fic” and is a decent length (lol), if y’all are interested in the full story please lmk!! (btw nothing spicy in this first part- sorry 😔) Thank and enjoy.💋💋

Part 1: The Cellar

Oh God, stay quiet… I silence my whimpers pushing my hand against my mouth as I watch the skinned face wearing man run around frantically. Each rev of his chainsaw had made me flinch. I slowly shift myself in the shadows hoping to avoid detection, the tall grass covering my view. The sky is painted with tones of tangerine complimented by flesh-colors. The longer time seems to pass the more I seem unable to move. I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut hoping to escape reality, the darkness only paints pictures in my head. Julie. Hanging on that meat hook in that red room. I suddenly feel a wetness dripping down my cheek. We didn't deserve any of this, especially not her and God knows where the others are. I just hope they're safe. The others. I have to do this for them, I have to escape. Adrenaline seems to rush through me, I peek my head above the grass searching around hoping for a clear shot. No sign of them. I slowly ascend and sneak towards what seems to be the closest exit. I dive back into a patch of grass as I hear the sound of the chainsaw approaching again. The sounds accompanied with female screams… Ana’s screams. My body makes its own decision and suddenly I flee from the grass patch running towards the gated fence, the sky darkening. Keep running Y/N. Just keep running. Tears blur my vision as the scream becomes distant for each pace I run. I shouldn't, I can't help doing so, only hoping to confirm reality. I look behind my shoulder, that man drilling the chainsaw through her abdomen, her blue tank top now red. Stained with her own blood. I run faster but can't help to look away. A loud snap erupts from beneath me; fire engulfs my right leg and I trip over. My ankle caught in some bone contraption it had cut deep, deep enough to see tissue. That man sensed the sound, revving up his stalled chainsaw, I look back panicking and quickening my pace to release myself. The pain is horrific. Blood drips into my shoes and I limp towards that gate. No. The faint symbol of a red padlock is tightened around the gate. I won't make it. I scream out in pain hoping for the slightest bit of hope. A deteriorating wooden barn. Maybe I can hide there. I shift my direction pulling my leg along with me as that man approaches. I ran through the large doors, the barn still in darkness. I looked behind again, that man hadn't been able to squeeze through the crawl space I shimmied through. I have distance. I’ll be okay. I face forward and crash into a hard surface. I fall back onto the floor and my vision blurs. Blood rushing to my brain, fumbling the noise around me, the chainsaw re-approaching and the laugh of a man in front of me, faint footsteps walk toward me, the orange hues of the sky paint out his features. My vision is blurry, I can only map out his sleeveless tank top, and his slicked hair…? He grips a knife in his right hand. He crouches down his arms wrapping around my waist. I groan out in pain. His hard chest instituted a throbbing headache, my head pounding. He leans forward toward my face.

“Oh, I’m keeping you.” The man growls.

Then with a effortless hurl he throws me over his shoulder. My sight goes foggy. I can’t lose consciousness now. Stay awake. With each step the man takes his shoulder digs deeper into my stomach. I can't seem to stay awake. No need to fight back anymore. This is my fate.

“S’okay, I got er’ boy.” The man says, “Put that chainsaw to use. Find the other one.”

A low moan had replied from the man with the chainsaw, like an agreement. Wait- the other one…? Leland! He’s still alive! I cry out, putting each ounce of strength into my punches trying to knock myself down from the man's shoulder.

“No need to fight me on this Darlin’. You’ll just make it harder for yourself.” He remarks.

I grunt still trying to fight back. I’ve done no damage to anything but myself. I feel my energy slip away along with my consciousness…

—------------------------------------------------------

I awaken to the cold beneath me, I sit on the wet concrete ground. My vision clears, I look above, my wrists had been tied to the wall. I pull against the rope hoping to loosen them. I feel my blood circulation cutting off, my hands are numbing. It’s too tight and I can't seem to make any wiggle room. I look around hoping for some sort of tool I can use. Nothing. The cell just contains a worn-out mattress. Just great. I crawl over on the mattress hoping it’ll bring me more comfort than the cold floor. It’s better…I guess. I sit in silence, my head against the stone wall for what feels like an eternity. I fumble with my shirt. My shirt- it’s different. Damn. That outfit I had on was my favorite. Now I’m stuck in this worn out oversized black shirt. Realization had hit me, they changed my clothes, had that man undressed me? Shivers ran through my veins; I disregard the thought. Suddenly a woman skips in front of my cell giggling whilst peeking through. I hadn’t heard her approach.

“Aww, you’se caught yourself an aw’fully purty one.” The woman remarked.

She dragged her razor blade along the iron bars making a scraping sound, hitting each bar. Laughing mockingly.

“Leave the girl alone Sissy.” The man approached.

The same man from earlier had stood next to the woman supposedly named Sissy. He jumbled his keys, standing in front of the lock for the cellar.

“Ain’tcha got things to do??” The man says sternly.

“You ain’t no fun Johnny.” She replies, clicking her tongue and walking away.

Johnny inserts the key into the lock, twisting it and sliding the cell door open. Then closes it behind him. I find myself backing against the corner, the cold shooting through my spine once my bottom contacts with the cold floor again. Johnny turns around, walks over toward the mattress and sits down, his arms resting on his knees. I sat a few inches away from him. Completely defenseless. He shifts his head toward the left a bit, enough only so he could see me. I stare down at the ground avoiding eye contact. He analyzes me for a while. Complete silence.

“You can look at me y’know?” He breaks the silence.

I feel tears dwelling in my eyes, “What do you want?”

“Ain’t no need to be cryin’ sweetheart, ‘m not gonna hurt ya’...” He trails off.

He removes some sort of compact tin from his jean pocket, following a roll of gauze...? He places them on the mattress and gestures to my leg where I’d been caught. It takes me a moment to realize what he’s motioning towards. I look down and realize my leg has been wrapped up. I gasp slightly, surprised he wouldn't have just let me rot. I scoot forward slowly allowing him to have access to my ankle, I watch slowly as he unwraps the bandage trying to see the damage that was done. I hiss once the cold air touches the wound.

“Those damn traps he be makin’,” he laughs shaking his head, “Work a lil’ too well.”

Johnny then grabs the tin container from his side, it contains some sort of topical cream. He rubs two fingers into the paste and rubs it over the wound.

“Ah-” I groan in pain. The topical stinging my cut.

“You’se all right sweetheart.” He reassures me.

I shut my eyes, furrowing my brows waiting for the stinging to be over. I can feel the gauze wrapping lightly around my ankle. For a man that had brought me and held me captive in their basement Johnny's surprisingly gentle. I can't tell why but, I find myself ease around him a bit.

“Johnny-” I speak,

He looks up at me inquisitive, like I said something wrong. He raises his eyebrows, waiting.

“...why are you helping me?”

He chuckles to himself; a piece of his hair drops in front of his face.

“Can’t have our food spoiled now, can we?” He looks up.

My eyes widen at his response, I try and jerk my leg away, but his grip stays firm, his calloused hands keeping me from backing away.

“I was jokin’.”

He finishes tying up the gauze and rises to his feet. He leaves, re-locking the cell door. And then again, I’m left in the cell waiting, thinking. I try to stand seeing where I am, yet can’t reach the front of the cell, my wrists beginning to burn from all the tugging on the rope. I stop, throwing myself on the rough mattress. My dreams ought to be better than this place, right?

————————————————————————

[restinslices]

Could you do the Earthrealm champions being invited by GN!reader to dance with them in a video?

If you need song ideas for this request, I got you covered:

Bet y’all ain’t know I like K-pop. Expect the unexpected. My internet is being dumb asf and I cannot add gifs so you’re getting dumb pictures I found on Pinterest

Johnny Cage

“I’m a star sweetheart, I don’t have time for silly videos”

*Proceeds to dance with passion*

Johnny cannot take shit seriously so if you think he’d be too proud to do a little dance for a video, you’re smoking 

He probably wears something way over the top for the video as if he’s actually performing for a crowd 

I don’t think Johnny is a natural dancer but he makes do. He probably practices to make sure he doesn’t look stupid and you’ll have to record the video multiple times until he’s satisfied 

“I don’t like that one or that one or that one or-” “I’m gonna find a new partner. Oh my gosh”

Honestly I think he has more fun than you

“I think I should add ‘dancer’ to my lists of talents”

He probably asks to do it again

Idk if I see Johnny being into K-pop but the interest would start here and spiral 

I also feel like he enjoys dances from girl groups more than boy groups. I once again don’t know why I think this way but it makes sense in my head 

Likes more simple dances. It keeps the focus on his pretty face and outfits 

“I think I’d be fantastic in a girl group” “Ok Johnny”

It’s giving “nurse! He’s out again!”

He has a new hyperfixation now. I hope you’re proud of yourself 

Favorite thing to dance to is Cupid by Fifty Fifty 

Kenshi Takahashi 

Only does it because you asked him to, and even then he doesn’t really want to 

He doesn’t hate dancing but he just doesn’t do it 

Considering he escaped from the Yakuza, him being in a video with you isn’t the best idea. You can call him paranoid. He calls himself careful. 

When he finally agrees, he's wearing the most obnoxious get up; hoodie, sweatpants, a hat, glasses, a mask and gloves. It's so no one can know who he is, but who in the Yakuza is randomly watching dance videos?

He won't change his mind though and wears it all.

You have to do an easy dance otherwise he'll sweat himself to death 

I don't see him going out of his way to do it again. It was alright to him. He's not big on dancing so learning a dance then doing it wasn't the best way to spend his time. Also he was extremely sweaty so he's not tryna do it again 

He will if you ask, but he won't bring it up first 

He's trying to not be noticed but people can't help but notice him 

I feel like he favors boy groups only slightly. Favorite thing to dance to is Still 24K by 24K but only the chorus because once again, sweat and heat. And YES I picked 24K because I'm never letting their name die. I miss them 

Kung Lao

“I have better things to do, like training new recruits at the Academy” “If you're too scared of me dancing better than you, just say that”

He learns the dance that night 

He's competitive so what's supposed to be a sweet couples thing, turns serious 

Wants to do a hard dance just to prove how great he is even if it's stupid 

Legit is angrily typing “hard kpop dances” and picking one at random 

He has you ask the audience to comment who danced better or do a poll

If he wins, he's ecstatic and wants to continue showing off. If he loses, he's bitter. The vote was rigged. Real “Stop the count!” type shit 

If he loses he wants to do it again so he can do better. He legit can't let it go. The problem is he keeps diving into hard ass dances and refuses to start simple 

You have to pry his hands off the keyboard and help him pick something simple 

Once he stops being stubborn then you two can actually have fun. Dancing can become a regular thing, but he's gonna keep making it a challenge 

In his eyes, he always wins 

Idk if he has a preference for boy or girl groups. I'll say his favorite thing to dance to is Monster by Exo because I feel like he'd want to do Chanyeol's jump 

Raiden

I think he'd be shy at first. Super Shy if you will 

He doesn't wanna fuck it up, yk? After being told it's not that deep and it's just for fun, he agrees 

Besides Johnny, he's probably having the most fun. I feel like he enjoys spending time with the people he cares about and this is doing just that 

Wants to do it again because it's spending time with you and it makes you happy 

Before I even end this, he's a girl group stan and I'm standing on it

Idk why but I think he'd like 4Minute and I'm not changing my mind. He'd be bummed they're not together anymore 

Honestly, his favorite groups have probably all disbanded or are on hiatus. He's not having a good time 

“I like 4Minute” “disbanded” “2NE1?” “disbanded” “Miss A?” “disbanded” “CLC?” “I don't think they're disbanded but they're doing their own thing” “I hate my life”

I just feel like he'd have bad luck 

Dancing becomes a new hobby though. He can't always be getting rid of threats. 

Mainly does it with you 

His favorite thing to dance to is Whatcha Doin’ Today by 4Minute. Honestly I can see that being his favorite song which is a real shame cause I think his favorite would be Jihyun and she got like, one line (I'm projecting)

Liu Kang 

Big problem with your plan. He has glowing eyes and shades hardly dull them. How's he gonna hide that? 

With TWO pairs of shades of course 

I think he'd be reluctant to make the video because his existence isn't supposed to be known by random people 

He'd be willing to dance with you alone, he's just not sure about the video and he won't be sure until you come up with a good idea that'll get rid of that problem 

You can post it on your close friends though. They make sense 

I feel like he'd like dancing to some random ass unknown group from the 80s or 90s. Who even are these people?

He did watch as civilization grew so he's seen tons of groups form and disband so I guess it's not surprising he knows smaller groups. 

Idk if he'd have a preference for boy groups or girl groups. If it's good music, it's good music 

I don't think it'd become a new hobby for him. He's not reluctant about it like Kenshi, it just doesn't interest him as much as you'd like 

He makes it known he's doing this for you. Not in an asshole way, but in a “I really like when you're happy” type of way 

I'm NOT looking up old ass groups just for this so imma say his favorite thing to dance to is Kard in general. Why? Idk. I’m spreading an agenda

I wanna write more MK1 intros but I’m brain empty. I’m miserable This was also short. My bad anon. Everyone has around 230 words

[anqelblccm]

⊹˳⁺ ⠀⠀⠀ YOU’RE  WATCHING  :  HERO READS THIRST TWEETS  ! 

ib.  :  buzzfeed celebs thirst tweet videos  ! 

final  word  count  :  2.6k

warning(s)  :  fans thirsting, as usual. lmk if i missed anything else  !

the  video  opens  with  hero  sitting  on  a  sleek  black  chair,  the  blue  background  glowing  behind  him.  he’s  dressed  casually  but  fashionably:  an  oversized  pink  hoodie,  ripped  black  jeans,  and  chunky  sneakers.  his  hair  is  slightly  tousled,  and  his  playful  smirk  hints  at  the  chaos  that’s  about  to  come.  the  camera  cuts  out,  showing  a  clip  of  future  tweets  he  will  react  to.  

'i  want  hero  to  punch  me  in  the  face,  but  softly,  so  i  can  feel  the  touch  of  his  hands  while  i  die  peacefully.'

“softly?!”  he  exclaims,  flexing  to  the  camera,  “my  hands  are  registered  as  weapons  of  mass  destruction  in  five  countries.”  his  playful  tone  adds  a  touch  of  humour  to  the  reaction,  entertaining  the  audience.

the  camera  cuts  off  again  before  he  can  say  anything  else.

'hero  could  run  me  over  with  a  car,  and  i’d  thank  him  while  handing  over  my  life  savings...  just  saying!'  

“run  you  over?  with  a  car?  me?  do  i  give  off  those  vibes?”  his  voice  comes  out  genuinely  surprised,  and  he  tilts  his  head  to  the  side.  the  flashcard  he  was  given  slips  from  his  hand,  and  he  flinches  down  to  pick  it  up,  “oh  fu–”  

another  cut  and  it’s  officially  the  start  of  the  video.

“hi,  i’m  hero,  and  today  i’m  here  with  buzzfeed  to  read  your  thirst  tweets,”  he  waves  to  the  camera,  “now  i’ve  been  warned…  and  frankly,  i’m  scared  out  of  my  wits.  let’s  dive  into  this  pool  of  thirst!”  he  picks  up  the  first  tweet  from  the  pile,  dramatically  unfolding  it  like  a  top-secret  government  document.  

“i  actually  like  going  on  tiktok  to  look  for  my  edits  because  i  know  there’s  always  going  to  be  thirsty  fans  in  the  comments,”  hero  says,  laughing  as  he  explained,  “i  mean,  i  recently  found  one  edit  where  the  comments  were  just  off  the  wall.  first  time  i  saw  people  as  thirsty  as  that,  and  i’m  baffled.”

the  camera  zooms  on  his  face,  “are  you  guys  okay  out  there?”  

it  goes  back  to  normal  as  he  reads  out  the  first  tweet.  

'i  can’t  tell  if  hero  is  a  heavenly  angel  or  a  demonic  chaos  goblin,  but  either  way,  i’d  let  him  destroy  my  life.'

hero  immediately  starts  laughing,  almost  falling  back  in  his  chair.  “ah,  you  got  me!  i’m  actually  both.  a  chaotic  angel,  if  you  will.”  he  smirks  knowingly,  adjusting  his  imaginary  halo.  “but  don’t  blame  me  when  your  life  turns  into  a  k-drama.  i  can’t  control  what  happens  next.”  as  he  mimics  holding  a  halo  above  his  head,  he  suddenly  lets  it  'fall'  to  the  ground.

“oops,  there  goes  my  angelic  streak,”  he  says  with  a  monotone  voice.

he  picks  up  the  second  card  and  giggles,  “okay,  this  one  is  pretty  mild,  but  it  goes:  ‘hero  could  say  the  most  random  word,  and  i’d  melt  into  a  puddle  of  goo.  try  it.  say  potato,  i  dare  you.’”  taking  up  the  challenge,  he  smirks  mischievously,  leaning  closer  to  the  camera  as  it  zooms  on  his  face.  the  audio  quiets  down  as  he  whispers  'potato'  dramatically.  immediately  after,  he  bursts  into  laughter,  shaking  his  head.

“y’all  out  here  falling  for  that?  do  you  want  me  to  start  a  podcast  where  i  just  list  vegetables  and  fruits?  ‘cause  i’ll  do  it.”

the  following  tweet  comes  immediately  after,  and  hero  grasps  it  with  both  hands.

'every  time  hero  posts  a  new  photo,  my  standards  go  higher,  and  my  will  to  live  plummets.  is  that  what  they  call  balance?'

he  clutches  the  tweet  like  a  love  letter  to  his  chest,  looking  mockingly  emotional.

“wow,”  he  mutters,  “the  duality  of  this  tweet  is…  raising  your  standards  but  losing  your  will  to  live?  that’s  so  poetic.  i  might  put  this  in  my  next  album.”  turning  up  the  dramatics,  he  pretends  to  write  in  an  imaginary  notebook,  mouthing  the  words  'balance,  standard,  plummets.'

he  then  fake-nods  like  a  motivational  speaker.  “life  is  all  about  balance.  raise  your  standards,  but  don’t  forget  to  lower  your  expectations  for  me  in  real  life.  i’m  a  mess.”  he  says  the  last  sentence  as  he  throws  the  card  behind  him.

finally,  the  tweet  from  the  start  of  the  video  shows  up,  and  the  sentence  is  shown  again:  'hero  could  run  me  over  with  a  car,  and  i’d  thank  him  while  handing  over  my  life  savings…  just  saying!'

hero  stares  at  the  card,  blinking.  the  silence  is  loud  at  that  moment.  then  he  slowly  lowers  it,  looking  directly  into  the  camera.  “run  you  over?  with  a  car?  me?  do  i  give  off  those  vibes?”  his  voice  comes  out  genuinely  surprised,  and  he  tilts  his  head  to  the  side.  the  flashcard  he  was  given  slips  from  his  hand,  and  he  flinches  down  to  pick  it  up,  “oh  fu–”.  after  the  clip  cuts  off,  he  is  returned  to  his  seat,  clutching  his  chest.  “do  i  look  like  a  dangerous  person!?”

he  pauses  for  a  beat,  then  leans  conspiratorially,  “okay,  maybe  a  little.  but  only  if  the  car  is  a  tesla–  eco-friendly  death  only.”

'hero’s  smile  has  the  power  to  cure  depression.  i  want  it  injected  into  my  veins  immediately.'

at  the  tweet,  he  grins  wide,  exaggerating  the  brightness  of  his  smile.  “you  want  this?”  the  smile  stays  on  his  face,  yet  his  eyes  widen  a  little,  and  if  you  look  closely,  it  might  remind  you  of  the  movie  smile.  “injected,  really?  that’s  a  lot  of  pressure!”

he  suddenly  puts  on  a  serious,  doctor-like  expression  (pushing  his  imaginary  glasses  and  everything),  pretending  to  write  a  prescription.  “take  one  smile  thrice  daily,  but  beware  of  side  effects.  they  may  include  thirst,  obsession  and  uncontrollable  laughter.”

'hero,  please  step  on  me.  no  explanation  is  needed.  just  do  it,  king.'

his  eyes  widen,  and  he  physically  recoils  from  the  tweet,  letting  it  fall  on  the  floor.  “step  on  you!?  are  you…  okay?”  his  expression  shows  concern,  but  his  eyes  also  have  a  teasing  glint.  “do  you  need  water?  a  hug?  therapy,  maybe!?”

he  lifts  his  foot  slightly,  showing  off  the  chunky  bottom  and  playfully  pointing  at  it,  “listen,  i’ve  got  big  feet,  and  the  shoes  are  thick  today.  i’m  doing  this  for  your  safety.”  he  nervously  laughs.  “also,  this  is  why  i  don’t  read  my  dms.”

'i  could  watch  hero  breathe  for  hours  and  still  think  it’s  the  most  attractive  thing  i’ve  ever  seen.  like  he  could  inhale,  and  i’d  disintegrate  like  thanos  snapped  his  fingers.'  

he  does  an  exaggerated  breathing  demonstration,  snapping  his  fingers  as  he  says,  “is  it  working  for  you?  are  you  disintegrating,  or  do  i  need  to  do  it  again?”  he  rambles  at  this  point,  “goodbye,  half  of  my  fandom.  it’s  been  real.”  he  laughs,  shaking  his  head.

“maybe  i  should  start  a  podcast  for  that  too.  call  it  ‘sleeping  with  hero’.”  as  soon  as  he  said  that,  the  realisation  was  shown  on  his  face,  “actually,  no,  i  take  it  back!  don’t  you  dare  put  this  clip  in  the  video!”  he  panics,  grabbing  his  face,  and  the  words  ‘(we  did.)’  show  up  in  that  second.

'hero  is  the  human  embodiment  of  i  can  fix  him,  but  let’s  be  honest,  i’m  the  one  who  needs  fixing.'  he  immediately  points  at  the  camera,  “you’re  right,  i  am  unfixable.  but  i’m  available  for  emotional  support…  maybe.  only  if  there’s  food  involved–  not  in  that  way,  you  perverts!”  hero  quickly  blurts  out  as  there’s  laughing  behind  the  camera.  

'hero,  i  just  know  you  smell  good.  like  expensive  cologne  and  heartbreak.  drop  the  name  of  your  scent,  please!'

he  leans  back,  flipping  his  short  hair,  “expensive  cologne  and  heartbreak?  i’ll  take  it.  also,  my  scent  is  called  ‘mind  your  business  by  hero.’”  a  laugh  quickly  comes  out  of  him,  and  he  has  to  take  a  natural  breath  to  continue,  “but  for  real,  it’s  probably  just  my  laundry  detergent.  shout  out  to  my  washing  machine,”  he  clicks  his  fingers  and  winks  to  the  camera.

'if  hero  ever  stood  on  my  neck,  i’d  thank  him  for  the  honour  and  ask  for  an  encore.'

he  dramatically  gasps,  holding  his  neck  as  if  he  can  physically  feel  it.  “why  are  y’all  so  violent!?”  standing  up  from  his  chair,  his  arms  fly  around  as  he  gets  deep  into  the  tweet.  “standing  on  your  neck!?  what  did  your  neck  ever  do  to  you?”

he  pauses  and  sits  down,  squinting  at  the  camera,  “also,  what  does  an  encore  even  look  like  in  this  situation?  do  i  step  off  and  then  step  back  on?  i  need  answers.”  he’s  far  deep  now.

'i  don’t  want  hero  to  be  my  boyfriend.  i  want  him  to  be  my  enemy  so  we  can  have  dramatic  tension  and  eventually  fall  in  love  in  a  slow-burn  romance.'

hero  places  the  card  down  slowly,  giving  the  camera  an  impressed  look.  “i  mean,  i  mentioned  k-drama  moments  just  now,  but  this  takes  the  top.”  he  looks  down  at  the  tweet  again,  “whoever  wrote  this  has  been  watching  way  too  many  shows.  but  honestly?”  he  leans  towards  the  camera,  “you’ve  got  me  intrigued  now.  what’s  the  plot?  where’s  the  script?  i  need  a  sixteen-episode  outline  on  my  desk  by  tomorrow.”

“and  it  better  be  good,”  he  playfully  threatens.

'the  way  hero’s  jawline  could  cut  through  steel…  sir,  are  you  aware  you’re  a  weapon  of  mass  destruction?'

he  touches  his  jaw  dramatically  at  the  question,  pretending  to  cut  himself  on  its  sharpness,  “a  weapon  of  mass  destruction?  so,  just  like  my  muscles?”  he  flexes  again,  but  it’s  not  noticeable  because  of  the  hoodie.

“don’t  worry,”  he  leans  in,  “i’m  only  dangerous  if  you’re…  weak.”  he  bursts  into  laughter,  waving  his  hands.  “i  can’t  even  say  that  with  a  straight  face!”

'hero’s  hands  look  like  they  belong  on  an  album  cover.  can  he  just  hold  my  entire  existence  instead?'

he  holds  up  his  hands,  wiggling  his  fingers,  “these  hands?  album-cover  hands?  i  mean,  thank  you,  but  also,  you really trust me with your existence?”  he  pauses,  staring  at  his  hands  thoughtfully,  “but  i’ll  consider  it  if  i  ever  release  a  ‘holding  your  existence’  concept  album.”

'if  hero  doesn’t  personally  ruin  my  life  by  2025,  i’ll  file  a  complaint  with  the  universe.'

he  snorts,  barely  containing  his  laughter,  “the  universe  has  a  complaints  department?  what’s  the  number?  i  need  to  call  them  about  my  life  too.”  he  mocks  a  serious  expression,  “also,  ruining  lives  is  a  big  responsibility.  can  i  start  small,  like  misplacing  your  phone  charger?  or  if  you  can  come  to  my  concert,  the  tickets  for  my  world  tour  will  go  live  soon,  then  i  will  ruin  your  life!”  he  shamelessly  promotes,  winking  to  the  camera.

'i  bet  hero’s  the  type  to  steal  your  hoodie  and  look  better  than  you  ever  could.  and  i’m  okay  with  that.'  

he  laughs,  nodding  with  the  tweet  as  he  pinches  at  the  shoulder  of  his  hoodie,  “okay,  first  of  all,  facts.  i  will  look  better  in  it.  second,  don’t  let  me  near  your  closet  because  i’m  not  just  stealing  hoodies–  i’m  taking  the  whole  wardrobe.”

'hero’s  thighs  could  crush  watermelons,  and  honestly,  i’m  volunteering  to  be  the  watermelon!'

hero  freezes,  face  in  his  hands,  as  he  tries  not  to  laugh.  “y’all?  a  watermelon!?  is  this  where  we  are  now?  i  don’t  even  work  out  that  much!”  ‘(that’s  a  lie.)’  is  shown  on  the  screen  as  he  stands  up,  pretending  to  flex  his  legs.  “but  thank  you  for  the  confidence  boost.  i’ll  be  thinking  about  this  every  leg  day  now.”

'hero  could  tell  me  my  haircut  looks  like  a  mop,  and  i’d  thank  him  for  noticing.'

he  reads  the  tweet  twice,  blinking  in  disbelief,  “first  of  all,  your  haircut  doesn’t  look  like  a  mop…  probably.  second,  why  are  y’all  thanking  me  for  hypothetical  insults?  should  i  just  start  roasting  everyone?”  he  pretends  to  scold  the  camera,  “your  socks  don’t  match.  you  look  tired;  you  drink  too  much  iced  coffee.”

satisfied,  he  leans  back  in  the  chair,  laughing,  “okay,  i’m  done.  you  are  wild.”

'i  want  hero  to  dropkick  me  into  the  sun,  and  i’ll  thank  him  for  the  free  vacation.'  

“dropkick  you  into  the  sun?  i  mean,  i  appreciate  the  faith  in  me.”  he  pretends  to  stretch  his  legs,  “also,  free  vacation?  you’re  not  coming  back  from  that,  bestie.  permanent  vacation.”

'if  hero  sneezed  in  my  direction,  i’d  frame  the  germs  and  hang  them  on  my  wall  like  art.'

at  the  tweet,  he  recoils  back,  holding  up  the  card  like  it’s  contaminated.  “what…  what  is  wrong  with  you!?  germs!?  framed!?”  his  eyes  widened,  and  people  behind  the  camera  laughed  at  the  horrified  expression  on  his  face.  it  takes  him  a  minute  to  calm  down,  and  he  quickly  blurts  a  joke,  “going  to  name  it  ‘the  microbial  series’.  limited  edition,  of  course.”  

he  buries  his  face  in  his  hands,  dying  of  laughter,  “i’m  actually  speechless.”

'i’d  let  hero  kick  me  down  the  stairs  if  it  meant  he’d  look  at  me  once.'

he  stands  up  dramatically  again.  “why  am  i  always  committing  crimes  in  these  tweets!?  kicking  you  down  the  stairs?  are  you  guys  okay!?”  he  pretends  to  look  guilty,  kneeling,  “i’m  sorry  for  what  i  haven’t  done.  please,  stay  away  from  stairs  if  i’m  around.”

'if  hero  ever  did  a  shirtless  photoshoot,  i’d  probably  lose  my  job  for  looking  at  it  during  work  hours,  but  it’d  be  worth  it.'

as  soon  as  he  read  the  tweet,  he  pretended  to  lift  his  hoodie,  showing  off  a  glimpse  of  his  slim  stomach  and  waist,  before  stopping  abruptly.  “nope,  not  today!”  he  lets  out  a  ‘tsk’,  playfully  shaking  his  head.  “you’re  keeping  that  job,  okay?  hustle  first,  thirst  later.”

“also,  who’s  leaking  these  imaginary  photoshoots?  i  need  answers.”  he  says  to  the  staff  behind  the  camera.

'the  way  hero  moves  his  hips  during  performances  should  be  illegal  in  at  least  twelve  countries.'

he  spins  in  his  chair  as  he  hums,  “twelve  countries!?  name  them,  i  need  to  know  where  i’m  banned–  wait,  but  can  that  happen  after  my  world  tour?  like,  this  is  my  first  one,  i  need  to  make  it  count,  if  you  know  what  i  mean.”  he  trails  off  but  quickly  snaps  back,  “but  hey,  can’t  say  i  didn’t  warn  you.  blame  the  choreography,  not  me.”

'i  want  him  to  take  that  belt  from  bless  my  heart  and  choke  me  with  it.'

“oh  woah,  woah  woah!  you’re  stepping  into  some  dangerous  territory!”  he  yelps  out,  looking  completely  baffled  at  the  tweet.  “wait,  who  is  this?  can  i  say  the  username?”  he  asks  the  staff  again,  and  with  their  confirmation,  he  reads  it.  “‘lesbian4hero’–  now  wait  a  minute…  i  remember  this  username!”  he  points  to  the  camera  like  he’s  phoenix  from  ace  attorney,  “yah! don’t  think  i  forgot  your  little  comment  on  tiktok,  and  yes,  i  do  remember  it.”

that  was  the  last  tweet  because  hero  grabbed  each  flash  card  and  threw  them  into  the  air  before  leaning  into  the  camera  with  wide  eyes  and  a  big  grin.  “you  know,  i  thought  i  was  prepared  for  chaos,  but  y’all  have  proven  me  wrong  on  every  level.  thank  you  for  breaking  me  and  making  me  question  all  my  life  choices.”

he  quickly  mutters,  “i  don’t  know  if  i  should  feel  flattered  or  file  a  restraining  order,  but  i  love  you  anyway.  keep  being  weird–  i  thrive  on  it.  but  drink  water  and  behave,  okay?”

he  flashes  one  last  cheeky  grin,  winks  at  the  camera  and  leans  back  in  his  chair  dramatically,  “buzzfeed,  thank  you  for  making  me  read  this  madness,  but  get  me  out  of  here  before  i  lose  my  own  mind.  bye,  everyone!”

the  outro  quickly  plays  a  montage  of  his  reactions,  and  then  the  screen  fades  to  black  with  the  text:  'catch  hero  on  his  upcoming  world  tour–  where  no  watermelons  will  be  harmed!'  the  sound  of  hero  still  laughing  can  be  heard  despite  the  video  almost  ending,  and  fans  are  left  desperately  refreshing  for  the  replay.

[fastlikealambo]

Honeycake.|| An Alpha!Joel Miller x Black!Fem Reader Omegaverse AU

Summary: Joel has a good life. He's got his pack, his own business, no time for love outside of meaningless hookups and that one time Sarah tricked him into speed dating. Love comes knocking in the form of you, an omega from a dangerous disbanded pack looking to heal.

Trigger Warnings: Past violence against reader, mentions of David, non-consenting mate bites,  mental health discussions, this omega needs a hug and like 12 blankets.

Note One: This takes place in modern day, no outbreak. Joel’s pack consists of Omega!Tommy, his wife Alpha!Maria and their two children, Beta! Marlene and her wife Omega! Anna and their daughter Ellie, and Joel’s daughter, Sarah (SARAH LIVES!). They all live on the same street and joel's house is their packhouse because I said so.

Note Two: This is my first dive into writing omegaverse! There are so many different interpretations and headcanons out there and I’m excited to join in. I apologize in advance if I get something wrong 🙂

This is a test chapter! If you’d like to see chapter two, please comment or reblog as engagement with my fics makes me write faster! I also just like talking to y’all too <3

Chapter One

 “As you can hear behind me, court proceedings have just concluded for the man simply known as David, the alpha of a Colorado based pack that made headlines for the last year over David’s numerous felonies ranging from embezzlement, wire fraud,and tax evasion. But today is his latest sentencing over his assault of his former omegas and multiple forced courtships charges-

“Sarah, Ellie! Breakfast!”

   “A single charge of claiming any omega without their consent carries a prison sentence of upwards of twenty years in prison and David has ten counts. The brave victims whose names and faces we may and should never know can finally live their lives in peace knowing that this man is behind bars.”

Joel replaced Sarah’s phone with a plate of bacon and eggs before sitting down himself.

  “You know the rules, no phones at the table.” Joel grumbled through his coffee,inhaling that shit to drown out the scents of the various couples in his pack. Eight in the morning was too far too early for perfume based love declarations.

   “It’s all anyone talks about at school, I hope they fry the motherfucker!” Ellie said through a mouthful of eggs.

  “Language!” Marlene, Anna, and Joel said in unison, a barely stifled laugh escaping Sarah who snuck her phone from off the kitchen counter.

 “You’re not wrong though, sweetie.” Anna said, patting Ellie on the head.

While his pack fell into a lively discussion/rant over the news, Joel’s mind was somewhere else, desperately trying to remember the name of the waitress he screwed behind the job site last night.

Lizzie?

Megan?

Did she even tell him?

Did it matter?

He had his rules.

No courtships without pack approval (mostly just Sarah’s approval because nothing got past Sarah Miller.)

No fucking around in town.

No bullshit.

Ruts were out of town experiences only, with waitresses and gas station attendants in need of relief not romance, people just like him trying to get off and get through the damn day. 

As long as he could get through the day, Joel Miller was good to go, mates not needed or wanted.

The only good thing to come out of his last courtship was grabbing her backpack and stealing the last bit of bacon off his plate.

Morning chaos got Joel out his head as the packhouse emptied, Ellie and Sarah heading toward his truck only for a U-Haul with tinted windows to block him in.

  “Shit!” Joel growled out, unable to stop himself from hitting the back of the moving van.

The truck reversed quickly and Joel threw his shit into his truck while the girls tried their damndest to peek into the darkened windows. Already sweaty, his hand grasped the door handle only to fall to his side when it hit him.

Honey.

The most perfect honey scent ran through the entirety of the alpha and it took everything within Joel not to fall to his knees right fucking there. When he had the strength to look up in search of the scent, all Joel saw was the corner of the sundress and a front door quickly closing.

His scent match just moved in.

Okay! This is all I got, if you want to see more please comment or reblog! This is my first time writing omegaverse so be nice :)