#I wrote this while dealing with a flare up

[creationsabyss]

Anemoia (How Long Will You Reach For The Ghosts Of Distant Stars?)

They could see the stars tonight, bright splatters of light across the shadows of the sky. They don't really know why they decided to come out here, so far from the comfort of their little cottage, but they don't want to return, not yet at least. Wrapped in their cloak, they nestle themselves into the trunk of an old, hollowed out tree as they crane their neck upwards. The stars flicker and blink down at them, almost as if they were waving a hello. A ridiculous thought they don't mind entertaining as they raise their own hand to wave back. Maybe they are a bit of a fool, but they never claimed to be wise in the first place.

This reminds them of dreams they could have sworn they had forgotten, the wisps of names and faces that linger on their tongue even as the memories faded from their mind. They could almost feel the leathery skin underneath their fingertips, the sharp edges of scales too big. The blooming feeling of awe as feather and fur alike curl around their shoulders. Even the whistling winds, rustling through leaves and grass, remind them of the songs they used to sing, the lyrics long forgotten. Not quite unexpectedly, it hurts. Aching something fierce and bold in their chest, that forces tears to well in their eyes. Logically, they know it's silly to cry over something they can barely remember, over something that the world doesn't remember existing. At least, not in this life.

But they don't swallow down the sob that leaves their throat nor wipe away the iridescent tears that fall from their eyes. They don't mind the chill that seeps into their chest as their tears soak through the thin fabric of their shirt, far too busy watching the stars drift across the skies. They think, at first, only distantly, that they can see the twisting shapes of long serpentine bodies and billowing wings. They swear they can hear the timber of voices overlapped, the shadows of all too human bodies that they should know but can't quite remember. They wonder if they can miss people that don't exist.

They wonder if these memories are what drives them away from the people, the connections, of this earth. Star child, they remember their grandmother whispering to them in the late hours of the night. You are loved, they remember her murmuring to them every day from then on. They remember clinging to her feeble form as she spun tales of mystical beasts and stories of man made gods. Rivers to a lake, spiraling into the deep caverns underneath, hoarding knowledge underneath their silence. They wonder if there was some truth to her tales after all.

Star child, that name, title they suppose, has haunted them throughout their entire life. They wonder if it is why they can taste lightning on their tongue even when the skies are clear, if it is why they can feel the brittle-snap of thunder between their teeth. They wonder if it is why frost cradles their skin even when hearth-warm fire curls in their chest, the duality often leaving them sick and bedridden. Wildfires spark to life, just shy of burning and charring the vulnerable flesh of their heart. That coil around their ribcage and rumble as though the earth was quaking under a cat's quiet purr. All the while, ice forms at the base of their throat, encircling their arms like sharp shackles. They don't mind the chill, even when it hurts to speak. They welcome the frost and the cold, wrapping themselves in snow to stave off the constant heat.

They suppose it is, just like the winds that push for them to wander the world. A wanderlust unseen in their family, where others root themselves into the soil, they take to the skies. Following where the breeze and the gales blow them, the peaks of snow-capped mountains and the depths of oceans. Their body is not meant for travel, frail from the war that wages inside them. But it's not as if they could stop. They ache for the road, to chase after the stars as if they could someday reach up to pluck them from the skies. Their only real companion over the years, the feel of coiled bodies in the palm of their hand and the sound of an echoing roar in their ears.

Sometimes, they still expect a tail to curl itself around their legs even though the creature that tail is connected to only resides in their dreams. They still turn and expect to see the divine tipped claws of monsters, to have to tip their head back to speak to looming shadows of those they should know and still somewhat do, even if they haven't met them yet. Their disappointment when all that greets them is silence and emptiness is often crushing and immeasurable, inconsolable grief that drapes across their shoulders like a dark veil. Those days, they spend their time inside, away from the sun and the stars, away from the gaze of the people that stare and stare. They spend those days painting and writing, over and over, trying to capture the faces and forms of their companions they so desperately want to remember.

But it never looks quite right. Something is always wrong, always off. Failure is a bitter thing to swallow, it tastes of bile and blood and tainted honor. It is the shattering of pride, the sting of human hubris that leads them to bury their half written journals and messily sketched paintings. It is what forces them to grip the few pieces of their memories close, cradling their dreams like the most precious of treasures. Long fluttering scarves and cloaks, flowing fabrics that hide the invisible pouches of chiming bells and glimmering scales. Though they carry little on their journey, they can't help but feel an anchor's weight on their shoulders, Atlas heavy. A worthwhile price for the imaginary companions that drive away the loneliness, even if they do still want to feel the steady heartbeat underneath their hands.

Star child, they muse to themselves, it grows more fitting by the year. Stardust in their veins and the world at their fingertips, it is only a matter of time before they will be cradled in the careful coils of their once lost companions, one way or another.

@n0tamused

[tonycries]

Initiation!

Synopsis. “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader, Geto Suguru x Reader, Fushiguro Toji x Reader, brief Nanami x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, fratboy! JJK men, gangbang, frat sweetheart! reader, cumplay, choking, oral (male + female), anal, double penetration, cunnilingus, Suguru is MEAN - so is everyone else, some heinous things idek how to tag, unprotected, no curses! AU, marking, pet names (princess, darling, doll), swearing.

Word count. 4.8k

A/N. Am not the same person I was before I wrote this…

Art by @_3aem on X.

Tequila was your best friend when Suguru and Satoru weren’t around.

Which is probably why you were five shots deep before 9pm, heavy bass thrumming through your veins and sleek tabletop steady under your rocky heels.

Everything was a blur. The pulsing neon lights, cheers following your every sway and twirl, and the atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter in that heady Jujutsu Phi frat house. 

You almost miss that familiar flash of cloudy white locks and those narrowed black eyes greedily watching your hips to the beat. Almost. 

An excited exclamation of “There’s our all-new sweetheart!”. And the world tilts.

Falling down really does feel good. Especially when the ground is so warm - and smells faintly of overpriced cologne. 

“Careful, there, Satoru. Wouldn’t wanna hurt the sweetheart right before initiation.” 

A pair of strong arms underneath you, and a deep voice hot against your ear. “Havin’ a lotta fun without us, huh?”

Oh, you’d recognize those devastatingly handsome faces anywhere. You blink, eyebrows furrowed slightly at your best friends as you tried to focus on their words. “Sweetheart? Me?”

To your right, Suguru nods slowly, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Absolutely. Who else? No one better we can think of, darling.” 

Satoru’s eager voice chimes in, “As presidents, and the only men to binge Bridgerton with you, we love you. The frat brothers love you too, especially our supervisor.”

“Mmm, I dunno. What do I hafta do?” face heating and words slurring together, in your alcohol-induced haze, you miss the devilish glance shared between the two. 

Satoru chuckles, a dark glint in his eyes, “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.”

Your laughter is infectious, and without much hesitation you raise your empty shot glass in toast, “Hmm, deal! To the newest frat sweetheart! How hard can it be?”

---

The consequences aren’t half as fun as the chaos.

Wincing at the dull ache reverberating in your head, you struggle to make sense of your surroundings in the dim lighting. Still disoriented and bleary-eyed, you sink into soft navy bed sheets.

Ah, soft. So soft. Warm, with a tinge of candied apples.

Satoru.

Slight panic setting in, and Satoru’s room swaying ever-so-slightly, you try to will away the overplayed pop pounding from the party still raging below - focusing on the whispered conversation at the foot of the bed..

“---blast at the party------”

“------frat---sweetheart.”

Head snapping up in a daze, the word “sweetheart” echoes in your ears. 

Something heated and prickly pools in your stomach as fragments of memories from not too long ago begin to piece themselves together. 

Your dawning realization - and sense of impending doom - is interrupted by a soft hum of delight

“Well, well, look who’s finally awake - our dear sweetheart.” Satoru teases, while Suguru, with his arms crossed, chuckles.

Liquor suddenly nowhere on your mind, your heart races - something about the suggestive gleam in their eyes doesn’t exactly ease your nerves. Your cheeks flare, the room feels suddenly smaller, the air thicker. 

You sit up, rubbing your temples, and the two of them exchange loaded glances that send shivers creeping down your spine.

Satoru pushes himself off the wall with a devious smirk, taking a deliberate step closer. “How’s our sweetheart feeling? You knocked out for a good hour or two, y’know. Was almost worried you’d miss the initiation~”

“What the fuck did I agree to?” you mutter to yourself. Yet, Suguru answers anyway, his voice a dangerous purr, “Just a little test of courage, darling. But don’t you worry; we’ll take very good care of you.”

Satoru nods, his gaze intense. “It’s all in good fun, princess. You’ll see.” His warm breath grazes your face as they tower over you, inching closer and closer. “Now, you wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?”

Goosebumps erupt along your shoulders at the proximity - and the realization - all the way down to where your thighs were desperately squeezing together. Shit.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. It was hard to be best friends with them for years and not hear about the whispered rumors of how they were in bed. Enough to send a woman to heaven - or the hospital - they said. And you couldn’t deny that ugly little part of you that was sinfully curious.

A beat passes in the suddenly charged air. As if they were waiting. Studying your reaction - like predators stalking their cornered prey. Will you run away? Will you fight? Will you submit to them completely?

The room is silent, except for the distant thump of the music below, seemingly miles away. 

One. Two

Finally - not trusting yourself to speak - you manage a nod. 

Darkened blue eyes meet Suguru’s half-lidded ones, a silent understanding passing between them before resting on you - splayed out on the bed and tight dress hiking up so enticingly.

Oh. 

Oh, shit. You were in for it.

Without warning, Satoru surges forward, lips catching yours in a bruising kiss. You whine against his soft lips, the distinct taste of Baileys and Satoru completely filling your senses - you almost don’t register the slow, purposeful trail of kisses Suguru leaves down your heated neck. Almost.

Skin searing where his lips linger along your jawline, Suguru murmurs, vibrations sending a jolt of electricity right to your core. “Shhh, relax, darling. We’ll take care of everything.”

Maybe it was the way Suguru’s words were dripping in lust and something dangerous, tongue darting out to lick a long, sensual stripe up your neck.

Or maybe it was the way Satoru was sloppily licking at your lips, thumb pushing your chin down to suck on your tongue with his candy lips. But the room was spinning - and this time, it wasn’t the alcohol. 

“T-Toru- Sugu-” a muffled whine you barely even recognize rips from the back of your throat - and it was like something snapped. Maybe their restraint, maybe their sanity - definitely you by the end of this.

A hand hot on your thigh - Suguru’s or Satoru’s? You don’t have the time to wonder, the sequins hit the ground before you even realize what is happening. 

Skin-tight dress now in tatters on Satoru’s carpeted floor, you shudder as the cold air hits your heated skin. Large hands everywhere. Cupping your ass, tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra. Leaving your underwear in such a disarray as if it killed them to see you clothed.

“Shit. Suguru, look at this.” Satoru’s groans lowly, predatory gaze transfixed on the sight of your dripping cunt..

“Oh fuck, darling. Were you all ready and expecting this, hm? Our perfect lil’ slut.” Suguru’s smiles sinfully as he looms closer, a long finger playing teasingly with the thin fabric of your now-soaked panties.

You buck your hips, desperate for more fiction, as a manicured nail lightly grazes your swollen folds. Shit, and you thought Suguru would be the nicer of the two. “Please, Sugu.”

“Now now. Behave, darling. Wouldn’t want to get off on a wrong start to the initiation.” Suguru hums, pulling off your panties completely as Satoru’s iron-hold grip on your hips pin you helplessly to the bed. You struggle pathetically, leaking pussy aching for more more more.

And Satoru - your ever-merciful Satoru - listens to your desperate keens. Because, agonizingly slow, he drops to his knees, eye-level with your quivering pussy. 

“I’ll be taking this as payment, princess.” he hums, hot breath hitting your cunt in a way that almost makes you miss the way he snatches your wet panties right out of Suguru’s hands. As if a prize to be won.

Your face burns at the humiliation - or maybe at the way strong hands wrestle your thighs open. You gasp at the burn of the stretch, tense air grazing your throbbing clit as Suguru lets out a low whistle in appreciation.

You were so exposed. So vulnerable. And these fuckers hadn’t even taken off their goddamn shirts yet. 

Mouth opening to retort - or maybe beg for an ounce of friction, just anything that would-

Bang!

Dazed, you whirl your head towards where the door had now slammed open. In your lust-induced haze, you barely register the notion that someone else was going to see you so spread so shamefully and dripping all over Satoru’s sheets. Ah, they were going to scream. They were going to run away-

“Aww, already started without me?” a deep voice rumbles, raspy, dangerous. “Shit, these two brats weren’t kiddin’, you’re such a doll, aren’t you?” 

Satoru’s smirk grows at the slick pooling at your core as you make out just who it was that stood so imposingly at the door. 

Toji Fushiguro.

Someone you’d heard of more than you’d seen - for several reasons. Known around campus as the long-standing supervisor for Jujutsu Phi, but known more popularly amongst students as the man with a dick to die for.

The shutting of the heavy wooden door reverberates across the electrifying air inside. Your mouth drops into a soft oh as you spot the rock-hard cock straining furiously against Toji’s trousers, a dark patch of precum already pooling at the tip.

Oh. No wonder they say his dick can split you in half. 

Eyes following his every purposeful step towards the bed, you absent-mindedly wonder whether your best friends were hiding a matching achingly hard cocks. 

“Oh, fuck yes. Such a pretty pussy.” Toji appraises your cunt, greedily eyeing the way your walls flutter around nothing, slick pooling where Satoru was but a few inches away from where you needed him the most.

“Yo, old man. Catch.” Satoru’s voice rings in the loaded air. Muscled arms flexing, Toji easily catches the flimsy piece of fabric thrown at him, a lecherous smile growing as he realizes what it is.  “M’gonna have a lot of fun with you, doll.”

“Don’t count us out now, Toji. I’ll be making sure she’s absolutely ruined.” Suguru’s slow, sinful drawl has your head spinning.

Probably for the first time in his life, Satoru doesn’t speak.

Instead, he dives nose-deep in your cunt. Pretty ruby lips meeting your swollen ones, urgently lapping up your sweet juices, as if a man dying of thirst.

“Hah- Oh! Toru!” you whine, hips bucking up into his hot tongue as he bullies past your folds and into your quivering entrance, hurried yet methodical. You could feel Satoru’s lips curling at the lewd whimpers ripping from your throat. Bruising grip on your hips pulling you impossibly deeper onto his greedy tongue. 

He wastes no time - stretching you out on his tongue so sinfully, dipping in and out of your dripping hole at a merciless pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Hope you didn’t forget us, darling. I’d be heartbroken.” Suguru’s mocking words ring in your ears. Not completely present with Satoru’s dizzying abuse on your cunt, you can do nothing as Suguru snakes a hand down to your heated core. 

“Don’t move, doll.” 

And before you know it, two more sets of hands are unforgivingly on you.

All you can do is just lay there and take it as Suguru’s cruel, slender fingers tease your folds, up and down up and down - pointedly skipping your throbbing clit. A languid, sadistic smile spreads across his face as you whine in desperation.

Where Satoru was generous and impatient, Suguru wanted to make you cry. How could you ever have thought he’d be the nice one?

Hasty lips are on yours now, a small scar rubbing your lips in a way that so obscenely reminded you of the tongue still ruthlessly fucking into you right now. Pulling away mere centimeters, Toji murmurs lowly, “Open your mouth.”

As if on auto-pilot, you groan as Toji's steady stream of spit hits your ready tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of your head at the warm feeling, tasting of sin and everything you shouldn’t be doing.

Thick, calloused fingers squeeze your cheeks together, his spit now drooling down the corner of your mouth. “Now, show me what those pretty lips can do.” Toji grits out. 

Your eyes widen as he pulls down his pants just enough for his furiously hard cock to spring free, sculpted thighs straddling the side of your face. 

Thick and unforgiving. A prominent vein twirling delicately down his monstrous length. Precum leaking onto his sculpted abdomen, dripping erotically down to mix with your soaked underwear in his veined hand gripping the base.

Nervous eyes flitting between Toji’s bulging cock in front of you, to the slick dripping down Suguru’s wrist, and Satoru’s hooded eyes, miles away, and grinning devilishly around your cunt - you’re sure of one thing - you’d be damn lucky to make it out alive.

Toji’s throbbing head pokes your kiss-bitten lips, precum salty on your tongue. He spares no mercy.

“C’mon now. If you’re actin’ like such a cockslut then learn to take it like one.” Searing grip on your hair, Toji pushes his cock all the way down your ready throat, using your mouth as if it was nothing more than his favorite fucktoy. Maybe you’ll become his favorite fucktoy.

Your pathetic, wet gurgles mix with the lewd squelches of your cunt as Toji’s heavy balls hit your chin. Fat head hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. “Mmm fuck yeah.” he groans, thick fingers pressing around your neck to feel his dick down your throat. 

Drawing low hisses as you tongue at his slit, you breath in the heady scent of Toji and you on your panties and Toji-

“Look s’pretty gagging on his cock, darling.” Suguru’s voice is still silken smooth, mockingly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Pooling the trail of spit and precum on his tongue, before licking a long, languid stripe.

“F-fucking freak.” Toji huffs out a laugh, relishing the way you moan so lewdly around his cock. “Oh? You like that, doll? Little slut, aren’t ya?”

A dangerous chuckle, and he’s thrusting animalistically into your poor, pretty mouth. Balls tightening each time his thick cock disappears into your mouth, lips stretching almost-painfully to accommodate him. Toji’s hand closes tighter around your throat, blocking your airway. Making you choke and gasp for air around his cock, blood roaring in your ears.

Shit, he was going to break you.

Suguru’s clever mouth was on your aching tits now, jolts of electricity going straight to your cunt as he tweaks and teases your hardened nipples. Thumb rubbing harshly over your sensitive tip the way he wouldn’t with your clit. Over and over-

“Suguru, gimme the bra.” you whine, hips bucking as Satoru’s muffled words send vibrations exactly where you wanted.

In a flash, your bra is unclasped and thrown to Satoru. Wrapping it around one large hand, it disappears where you cannot see. Yet the jerky, impatient movements of his hand below - up, up, up - and down have your walls clamping down desperately on Satoru’s tongue.

Ah, he looked so pretty when he was shut up with his mouth full of your dripping cunt. Fucked out whimpers leave Satoru’s throat at each flick of his tongue, fucking your pretty pussy with his mouth till you felt raw.

Suguru - the ever-graceful Suguru - had his brows furrowed desperately. Lips messy with spit as he bites and teases your nipples hard, making you cry out in wet, little gurgles that muffle around the throbbing erection in your mouth, fucking into you with reckless abandon. Toji’s heavy balls stinging your face as he bottoms out with each harsh shove down your throat. 

He didn’t care if you could breathe - as long as you sucked the ever-loving soul out of him.

The heady air is urgent now. Hasty movements now becoming more and more frenzied. Mindless with lust. Filthy. Debauched. It was so fucking sinful. 

So it only made sense that your orgasm was the same.

You see white as you cum - or maybe that was the hot, thick ropes of seed that Toji painted your face with. Moans muffled and hips bucking deliriously, you moan breathlessly as neither of the three men give up their relentless abuse. 

Your head shot up blindly in pleasure, sharp teeth digging into your shoulder - hard enough to break skin. Suguru. 

Wrestled down onto the bed by three sets of strong arms still groping the expanse of your body, you ride out your white-hot high on the taste of Toji slipping down your throat, Satoru’s still merciless tongue, and Suguru’s index finally pressing down on your throbbing clit. Hard. 

Blood roaring in your ears, your vision blurs as you sink into the mattress. You think you’re in heaven, and it was only fitting that these demons with angelic faces were the first things that you see there.

“You alright, darling? Can’t have you go passing out on us mid-initiation, now.” Suguru tuts, sharing a glance with Satoru, who was absolutely dripping in satisfaction - and your slick, prettily glossing his lips and nose.

“Mmm- s’fucked out. Ah-” Your violent climax leaves you limp, and you feel like a fucking ragdoll with the way Suguru wraps a steady arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly close against him. You whine as your stinging tits meet his toned body, sticky with the heat of the room. When did he even take his shirt off? 

Satoru isn’t too far behind, with little care for the buttons flinging across the room as he rips his shirt open - creamy chest peeking out in all its chiseled glory. Shit.

You almost miss the bed shifting as Toji sits on the edge, watching the three of you with greedy eyes as he fists his cum-covered cock with your panties. Teasing, purposeful movements up his length.

Suguru’s hand stroking your face, Satoru’s on your hips.

“After all that princess, you deserve a little treat.” Satoru purrs lowly, lips glistening with your juices and breath hot against your ear. Shivers run along your spine - right down to where he was groping and playfully swatting your ass. Darkened eyes narrowed at the way it jiggled against his large hands. 

“T-treat? Wha-” 

Your disoriented stammers are stuck in your throat as Suguru shoves two long fingers into your mouth. Whatever moans leaving your lips are choked and muffled as he forces you to taste yourself. 

Fingers intertwining with your tongue, you’re delirious with the want for more more more - and evidently, Suguru is too, throbbing and leaking with need as he pushes his soiled boxers down. Something cold makes you flinch as your quivering thigh grazes his clothed erection. 

Oh. Who knew your best friend had a dick piercing?

“Fuck, darling. Really should’ve done this sooner.” he murmurs, voice thick with lust and more to himself than you. “Mhm. You don’t know how hard it was to not bend you over and stuff you till you can’t speak, princess~” a whisper from behind you - Satoru.

Before you know it, Satoru’s lips find yours in a fiery kiss amidst it all. As if he couldn’t get enough of the sweet taste of your cunt - and probably never will. 

Suguru is languid and unhurried where Satoru is impatient and starved, rutting desperately against your ass. 

Every twirl of Suguru’s finger is deliberate, leaving a trail of lingering electricity in its wake. And with searing passion, Satoru’s tongue tastes you in all the ways he possibly could. The three of you tangled in an unholy act. 

Fuck, it was messy. So fucking messy. 

Delicate strings of saliva and slick connecting you to the two as drool drips down the corner of your mouth, eyes scrunched closed at the sinful pleasure.

“Fucking freaks.” Toji spits out, eyeing Satoru’s fingers inching closer and closer to your ass, deftly prodding at your quivering entrance. Yet, his movements only grow more urgent, fucking his fist in desperate need to cum - to cum all over you once more.

Satoru pulls away, and you shiver at the cold feeling of his saliva hitting your rim. Once. Twice. Thrice just to watch the way your hole quivers so obscenely for him. 

In the haze of the pure want of the three men around you, it slowly dawns on you that they won’t stop until they’ve fucked you half to death. And you cunt clenches in anticipation. 

Maybe you really were a little slut. 

Suguru only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but you already feel so fucking full. Maybe it was the way Satoru was now bullying long, pale fingers through that first, tight little circle of muscle. Scissoring you open, hooking a thumb to stretch your slutty hole till he was more than satisfied. 

Through the corner of your eye, you watch Toji. Eyes half-lidded, gaze locked with yours, and looming closer towards you. 

Before you knew it, a rough hand grasps yours, wrapping so daintily around Toji’s fat, leaking tip. Guiding your hand, thumbing his slit to pull his dick in harsh, mindless pulls to get off. It has your sensitive cunt so heated and dripping, slick trailing down your shaky legs. 

“Suguru, think our little sweetheart is ready? Don’t think I can hold back any longer, all her pretty holes are begging me to fuck her.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive. Maybe you didn’t want to.

He doesn’t wait for a response. Your surprised yelps are gagged on Suguru’s fingers as Satoru sheaths himself in your ready hole. A low groan ripping from his throat as you clamp down on him, struggling to bear with the delicious stretch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, despite the panic setting in, as he pushes deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. “Fuck s’tight. So tight, princess.”

Was he even halfway in? He had to be, right?

Arm now burning with the feeling of Toji fucking his throbbing erection into your fist, you risk a glance behind you, catching a glimpse of the deliciously flushed cock pressing into you. Long, pale, so pretty - so Satoru. 

Chuckling at the dilemma on your face, Suguru hums. “Now, Satoru. That hardly seems fair. Don’t be greedy.” And at that last word, Suguru’s leaking tip pushes past your entrance - thick , with a long vein running down the middle, cold metal of his piercing making your walls twitch - grunting at the resistance that came with being so fucking full from both ends. 

“Just getting to fucking her already. Look at the pretty doll, so eager to please. She’s begging for it.” you moan at Toji’s impatient comment, his precum coating your hand a pretty gloss. You’re fucking yourself in mindless, shallow, bounces that have you split open on both throbbing cocks. 

Satoru’s hand snaking down to wildly draw circles on your clit, jolting at the overstimulation, whine deliriously as both Satoru and Suguru bottom out inside of you. 

Deep moans bouncing off the walls - tight, so tight. You were going to make them pass out. Or worse, cum before you.

“S’alright hah- Fuck!” Suguru can barely get the words out, you’ve never seen Suguru - all grace and poise - lose his composure like this. A slave to desire. And if Suguru was losing control then Satoru was on the edge of absolute insanity, darkened eyes blown-out and short, broken whines leaving his mouth at each breath.

You, on the other hand, have never felt more awake. 

“Oh- oh fuck. Can’t- Too much. Hngh-” Raspy moans ripping from your throat at each little movement, hips moving in a mindless tandem with your best friends’ as they start thrusting in slow, experimental thrusts. 

You felt so unforgivingly full - organs secondary to the cocks splitting you apart till you could barely form sentences.

Filthy. Fucking filthy. 

And the only place you wanted to be right now.

Pulse banging against your throat, sight spotty, you don’t even know if what you’re feeling is pain or pleasure. Head only full of Satoru and Suguru and Toji and Satoru and-

“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little whore can’t even speak.”

Bruised tits bouncing as Suguru and Satoru move in sync, fucked-out, animalistic ramming of their cocks into your stretched out little pussy. Delicate tears stream down your face. Your pace on Toji’s twitching dick now jerky, desperate movements to keep your sanity. “Jus’ like that, doll. Yeah-” 

You could feel the burning stretch as their throbbing cocks rubbed against each other through your walls. Balls smacking against your stinging skin and their prominent veins massaging your snug cunt just right. The slapping of skin and Toji’s squelching have your head spinning.

A wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - as he tried to keep himself together. Arching you deeper into him, thrusts stemming from a carnal, depraved part of him. Faster.

“Oh. So good, princess. Hole sucking me in so good. Ah- fuck. Could do this for the rest of my life.”

“Nasty girl. You love this, don’t you?” Suguru purrs, amusement evident in his tone.

“Y-yes! Love it! Love it Sugu- Toru-” 

With a harsh slap to your clit, both men speed up their pace in your sloppy holes. Relishing in the precum and slick dripping down their sensitive lengths, and the creamy rings forming around their bases.

More. More. More more more more-

This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Supported by Suguru and Satoru’s strong arms, spread open and stuffed so shamefully by their throbbing erections. Your head is thrown back, voice-shot as broken moans leave your swollen lips. Fist moving in a mindless rhythm - no reason or rhyme.

“F-fuck, darling. Gonna-”

All it takes are your half-lucid, fucked out mewls, walls wrestling with the effort to clench around them, for Suguru and Satoru to slam into you purposefully. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison. 

“Hngh- M’cumming. Oh, god m’cumming, princess. Ah! Milking me so good.”

Thick, hot ropes of cum that fill your snug holes. You could feel your stomach inflating, enough to make you feel like you’ll explode.

Cock-drunk, you’re dead weight in their arms as Suguru and Satoru moan in relief, riding out their highs. Endless spurts of their seed splashing into you. It dribbles out of your overfilled cunt and ass, soiling the wet bed sheets beneath you.

Soaked in their cum, barely conscious, body aching all over. Ah, this was heaven. 

“Switch. Wanna cum in her pretty hole.” 

You jolt as Satoru snarks under his breath, pulling out his still-hard head with a lewd pop! A wave of his hot cum gushing out of your abused hole, pooling so sinfully beneath you.

Your knees buckle, brain not catching up yet. Too fucked out, your ready ass barely resists as Toji presses his rock-hard tip inside, pulsing with need. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Take it.” Grunting lowly, veins popping out as his thick cum spurts uncontrollably from his twitching cock. Once. Twice. Thrice. Missing your hole slightly, splattering on your ass. Pushing his leaking head inside in desperate, shallow thrusts. He just needed it inside you.

Slowing to a stop, “Now, what do you say?”

“Th-thank you, daddy.” 

Vision blacking, you barely even register the words. It’s all that is muttered out before Toji pulls out in one, fluid motion and you’re thrown around like a ragdoll. Suguru’s hand firmly pinning yours behind your back, glistening cock still in you, legs spread sinfully open.

He licks a long stripe down your cheek, your tears salty on his tongue. “Don’t think the initiation’s done yet, darling.”

Cum leaking helplessly out of you, Satoru’s hungry gaze - blue eyes barely recognizable - meets yours. “Oh, fuck. Just look at you princess. So defiled. Makes me wanna eat out all the cum inside you before pumping you full of mine again.”

“Don’t cream yourself just yet, Satoru. I think we’re about to have another initiation coordinator.”

What?

Sure enough, distant footsteps steadily approach. Growing louder with each passing second, thick with anticipation. 

Closer. And closer.

The door is suddenly thrown open, light filtering in through the door, illuminating the stern figure standing in the doorway. 

Nanami Kento.

The frat treasurer, infamous as the devastatingly handsome impersonation of a stick up one’s ass, known for rejecting any and every advance left and right. 

His sharp gaze sweeps the charged room, dark eyes revealing nothing, catching on your teary, fucked out gaze, miles away. Body covered in cum and spit, marked like you were thrown to the wolves. Satoru grits his teeth with an impatient huff, looking like he’s ready to positively devour you, irritated at the interruption. 

“What are you doing? This is an embarrassment to Jujutsu Phi.”

In the twinge of disappointment, you can’t help but feel a brief glimmer of hope. Ah, Nanami Kento. Maybe he will be your savior - a temporary respite from the men who seem ready to eat you alive. And won’t stop till you’re not.  

“If you’re going to initiate her then show no mercy.”

The door slams behind him as he steps inside the heated hellhole. A cold shiver runs down your spine. Satoru’s burning whisper in your ear.

“Welcome to the brotherhood, sweetheart.”

A/N. Whew this turned out longer than expected. Tried a new formatting thing, how we liking it??

Plagiarism not authorized.

[keanusbabydoll]

TEASE

paring: teacher!negan smith x fem!reader

warnings: 18+content, huge age gap (reader is off age tho), inappropriate relationship, rough sex, heavy smut, oral (m), daddy kink, p in v, unprotected sex, degrading, dom!negan, slight overstimulation, spanking, teasing

wordcount: 4.8k

masterlist

. • °✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ . • °✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ . • °✧༺ ༻*✫

the classroom was unbearably dull. numbers blurred together on the whiteboard, and the droning sound of negans voice filled the room. normally, his deep, confident voice was something you found intoxicating, but not when he was talking about maths. hell, you hated maths. it was nothing but a collection of confusing numbers and equations you didn’t care for.

but negan?

oh, you cared about him.

your dark, forbidden secret. your thrill.

for seven months, you had been entangled in a secret affair with your teacher. he was everything you weren’t supposed to have, and that made it all the more exhilarating. the risk, the stolen moments, the way he looked at you when no one else was watching. you weren’t just his student; you were his, in every way that mattered.

and lord, was this intoxicating.

right now, negan stood at the front of the room, writing on the board, his muscles flexing beneath the tight fabric of his shirt. the way he moved, the way his strong hands moved as he wrote on the board, had you absolutely hypnotized. every once in a while, he would steal a glance at you, a smirk tugging on his lips as if he knew exactly what was running through your mind. he always did.

warmth began to spread in your whole body the longer you watched him, flashbacks of how you guys had just fucked a few days ago clouding your mind. he always fucked you so good, it was addicting and always left you longing for more.

as he continued to explain a new topic, which you had zero interest in, an idea sparkled in your head. why should you have been the only one who suffered? you wanted him to crave you as much as you craved him in that certain moment.

a grin was plastered on your face as you reached for your phone under the desk. you waited until he sat down at his desk, giving the class independent work. then, with deliberate mischief, you typed out a message. your heart pounded as you hit send and your eyes wandered to the front.

negan’s phone buzzed beside him. his head tilted slightly, curiosity flashing across his face as he reached for it. the moment he saw your name pop up on the screen, his sharp eyes locked onto yours. you leaned back in your chair, biting your lip teasingly as you watched him read the message.

what i’d do right now to have you fuck my brains out until your name is all i can remember, daddy.

his entire demeanor shifted. you could see it. his jaw clenched, his fingers tightened around the phone for a second before he placed it back down with a controlled exhale. you knew exactly what you were doing. teasing him had always been your favorite game. his nostrils flared slightly, and his tongue ran over his bottom lip. you knew that look.

trouble.

you had lit a fire, and you knew you’d be dealing with the consequences soon. and you were fucking in for it.

for the rest of the lesson, tension crackled in the air between you. every time he glanced your way, his dark eyes were filled with unspoken promises. you could barely sit still, your pulse racing in anticipation. you felt the heat creeping up your neck as the minutes dragged on until, finally, the bell rang.

“alright, get outta here,” negan announced, his usual smirk in place as the students began packing up. “try not to forget everything i just taught you the second you step out the door.”

you stood up, gathering your things, and made your way toward the exit—only to be stopped by his voice.

“not you.”

your stomach flipped. you turned to see him leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze locked on you. the last student filed out of the room, closing the door behind them. the second you were alone, he stood up, his pointer finger making curling motions— signing you to come closer. with shaky legs, you slowly moved towards his desk. his huge form was now towering over you, his hands resting flat on the wooden surface. his brown eyes were filled with something dangerous, boring right into your soul.

“you like teasing me, huh?” his voice was low, rough, sending a shiver down your spine. he leaned in closer, only inches away from your face, the air between you charged with electricity. “you think it’s funny to send me shit like that in the middle of my damn class?”

you bit your lip, tilting your head slightly. “i don’t know what you mean, mr. smith.” your voice was full of innocence but the look in your eyes was telling a different story. negan chuckled darkly, shaking his head before reaching for you. his hand wrapped around your throat, just squeezing in the lightest bit, just enough to make your breath hitch.

“that mouth of yours is gonna get you into a lot of trouble, sweetheart.”

your lips parted slightly, your pulse racing by now. “maybe that’s what i want.”

he exhaled sharply, his grip tightened before he yanked you closer, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, bruising kiss. his beard scraped deliciously against your skin as he pulled you even closer, forcing you to take everything he gave to you. the kiss was rough, possessive, his dominance unmistakably. his free hand moved to your waist, letting his fingers dig into the soft flesh. you couldn’t stifle a moan which was right swallowed by negan’s mouth.

when he finally pulled back, his breath was hot against your lips. “that what you wanted?” you licked your lips, your voice just above a whisper. “not enough.”

negan chuckled darkly. “greedy little thing.” his fingers trailed up and down your side before he took a step back, his smirk returning full force. “i’d love to teach you a lesson right here, right now, doll. but…” he glanced around the empty classroom. “something tells me we’d be interrupted.” you groaned in frustration, making him huff out amusingly, his fingers now gripping your chin. he leaned in again, his voice dropping to a growl. “meet me after school. by my car.”

your stomach flipped in excitement. “yes, sir.” his grip tightened as he let a finger trace over your bottom lip. “good girl.”

with that, he released you, stepping back as if nothing had happened. “now get outta here before i change my mind.” while nodding your head, you turned on shaky legs, heading for the door. just as you reached for the handle, he called out one last time.

“oh, and sweetheart?”

you looked over your shoulder, finding his gaze dark and filled with promise.

“you’re in for a long night.”

. • °✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ . • °✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ . • °✧༺ ༻*✫

school finally ended to your huge relief. since negan’s lesson you couldn’t think straight anymore, all you could think of was him and what he would do to you. and you couldn’t wait to find out. the whole day long this fire in your core wouldn’t vanish, just the imagination of what would happen later got you fucking soaked.

the sun was slowly starting to set as you walked towards the teacher’s parking lot, your heartbeat picking up speed as you spotted negan. he was leaning against his car, just finishing a cigarette. as soon as he saw you, that signature smirk curled his lips. “took you long enough, sweetheart.” he teased, flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. “thought you might’ve decided to avoid tonight’s destiny.”

you scoffed. “not a chance.”

he chuckled, biting his bottom lip as he opened the car door for you. “get in.”

the command in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you obeyed without hesitation. as soon as you settled into the passenger seat, negan shut the door and rounded the car, sliding into the driver’s seat. the air inside felt thick, heavy with tension.

the engine rumbled to life, but the real problem was the way his hand immediately found your thigh. you bit your lip as he started driving, his fingers resting there—warm, firm, possessive. you knew that he would do anything to repay you for that stunt you pulled earlier. and teasing was a good start.

he could feel how your body tensed up, how his sweet torture began to set in, began to affect you. but you tried your best to hide it, to play it cool. you didn’t want negan to win so easily, after all, you were the one who started this whole game.

negan let out a low chuckle, knowing damn well that your strategy wasn’t working. you turned your head sharply, eyeing him closely. “what?”

“nothing, doll.” he replied defiantly, keeping his eyes on the road while his smirk widened.

his hand slid higher, thumb now caressing your soft, covered flesh. you squirmed under his touch, your own body betraying you. your pulse sped up and your breath hitched when he slowly lifted his hand higher and higher, stopping by the waist band of your pants. “negan…” you breathed out, gripping the edge of the seat, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but he was relentless. “what?” he copied you, a devilish expression plastered on his face.

you just sighed out, knowing that there was no way you could win this. so you just gave in, let it happen. let him have the victory. “that’s what i thought.” he rasped, looking at you with darkened eyes, his digits slowly slipping into your pants.

a groan almost escaped negan’s mouth when he felt that wet spot on your panties. “look at that, doll. i haven’t even touched her yet and she’s fucking soaked.” he didn’t waist another second to force his digits inside your panties, immediately finding your hardened nub. he began to rub slow, delicate circles around it, eliciting quiet moans from you.

his fingers slid down, circling your wet entrance while collecting your slick before he dragged it up again and continued to stimulate your clit faster. your breath was getting heavier and heavier, your poor hole clenched around nothing— desperate to cum and to be stuffed full of him.

“that’s a good girl.” he murmured, glancing sideways to watch your reactions. you could slowly feel how that sweet coil in your stomach began to tighten, waves of pleasure running through your whole body. your hand gripped his wrist, feeling his motions and how fast he worked on your clit. your eyes were closed, mouth agape and a string of moans left your lips.

but then suddenly, when you were just one or two minutes away from your high, he completely pulled away. it was so quick, that you didn’t even register that his hand was removed from your pants at first. instantaneously, your eyes snapped open, a confused mask covered your face as you turned to look at him. “daddy…” your voice was a mere whisper, a pout forming on your lips.

“now don’t be such a needy little thing, doll.” he grinned as he turned the engine off. and that’s when you first realized that you were already at his home. the whole care ride long you had been caught up by the pleasure he gave to you.

he got out of his car, while you opened the door with a trembling hand. as soon as you stepped out, he had you thrown over his shoulders, walking towards the entrance. a small yelp escaped your mouth as you held onto his leather jacket tightly. “gonna have so much fun with you, baby.” he groaned as he slapped your ass with force, making you squirm at the sudden pain.

the second the front door shut behind you, he was all over you. he had set you down, gripping your waist as he as he pinned you roughly against the cool surface, his hand on your throat. “time for your fucking lesson,” he murmured against your lips before hoisting you up, his hands gripping the back of your thighs, carrying you towards his bedroom while his lips captured yours in a messy, heated kiss.

he pushed the door open, immediately making a straight beeline to his bed. in a flash, he had you thrown on the bed, his dark eyes staring down at you—filled with lust. you propped yourself up on your elbows, glancing up at him with your prettiest doe eyes. “you have no idea how hard it was for me to control myself today, baby.”

“you didn’t actually think that you’d get away with this shit, right?” he crawled on top of you, caging you underneath his body, his voice a low growl against your ear.

“wasn’t my intention to.” you replied defiantly, wrapping your legs around his torso to pull him closer. “you’re a real brat today.” he smirked, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. you closed your eyes, finally receiving what you wanted so bad, but in a matter of seconds, you suddenly couldn’t feel his weight on you anymore. “strip.”

your eyes snapped open at his words, catching him towering over you by the edge of the bed—his face was dead serious, nothing playful covered it anymore. “now.” his tone was so low, it almost seemed intimidating to you. you didn’t spend another thought before you shuffled to your feet, tearing your shirt off. his eyes were on you the whole time, his intense stare was sending shivers down your spine. next, you unbuttoned your pants, pushing them down your legs until you stood in front of him in only your lingerie.

he crossed his arms as his eyes seemed to darken even more. “all of it.” it was scary to watch how quickly he could change his whole demeanor. but that was exactly what you loved about negan— his harsh, dominant behavior.

hesitatingly, you reached back, unclamping your bra and tossing it away, which was quickly followed by your panties. “good girl. on your knees.” he instructed, and immediately you obeyed him, sinking down right in front of him. you watched him through your lashes, waiting for his next move. he eyed you closely, oh, how desperate you were looking at him, how your thighs rubbed together to relief that ache in your core if even just in the lighted bit. his cock hardened even more at the sight, there was no way he could wait any more seconds to finally feel your plump lips wrapped around him.

“what the hell are you waiting for? start.” he growled, gesturing to the bulge right in front of you. while keeping your eyes on him, your hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it before you unzipped his pants, pushing them down his legs. his onyx eyes darkened even more when you wrapped your fingers around the waistband of his boxer briefs, finally letting his cock spring free. negan stepped out of his clothes and removed his shirt, impatiently waiting for you to continue.

your stare wandered to his rock-hard dick, admiring the way it throbbed with need. his tip was angry red, beads of pre-cum leaking out of it, a small whimper leaving your lips. that burn in your core only seemed to get stronger and stronger. your mind was too dizzy to care about keeping your confidence up, or to tease him further. in an instant, your hand wrapped around it, squeezing a little bit before you began to pump him. negan immediately hissed out, his hand reached for the roots of your hair, pulling firmly. “c’mon suck daddy’s cock like a good little girl.”

you brought your lips to his cock, pressing a few kisses to the shaft, licking along that vein before you finally wrapped your lips around his swollen tip. with an impatient groan he pushed his cock into your mouth, immediately bucking his hips forward when the warmth of your mouth welcomed him. you tried your best to relax your throat, trying not to gag— which never really worked out.

you began to bob your head back and forth while sucking firmly—creating a pleasant vacuum. “fuck, doll. fuuuck.” he growled, his grip just tightening. your pussy throbbed, god, you needed him. you could feel how your juices oozed out of you, coating both your thighs. your movements only sped up, taking him faster and faster, determined to bring him to his high. negan couldn’t— he couldn’t hold back anymore. his senses were taken over by the sweet feeling of your mouth.

his free hand joined the other, completely grabbing ahold of your head as he began to fuck into your mouth. you opened your mouth wider, letting him use your hole for his own pleasure. “just like that, baby.” he grunted as he pushed your head forward in rhythm with his thrusts, causing you to gag around his length. he didn’t care a bit how much you sputtered, how many tears streamed down your face and thrusted his cock deeper into you. you quietly sobbed, looking up at him through a blurry vision as he hit the back of your throat over and over again.

negan glanced back down at you, loving the way your tears coated your cheeks, how powerless you were beneath him. you could feel how his dick twitched frantically, his movements turning harsher. “gonna cum into that pretty mouth of yours.” you moaned in reply, sending vibrations through his cock.

your hands gripped his thighs for support as he moved in and out of your hole, chasing his release. “fuck, baby!” his voice was a deep rasp as he bucked his hips into you, pulling you flush against him until the tip of your nose touched his pelvis. a strangled cry rang through the room as you squirmed beneath him, your nails digging into his flesh. and then, you could feel how his thick liquid spurted down your throat, holding your head in place to make sure you got every last drop of it. the heavy, salty taste of his cum immediately overcame your senses.

with a deep groan he pulled out and released the grasp on your hair. “c’mon, swallow.” he breathed as his hand gripped your gin, forcing you to look up at him. you innocently blinked at him a few times before you swallowed everything he gave to you. “fucking, good girl.” he devilishly chuckled, his thumb gliding over your bottom lip.

“now, get up.” he commanded, gesturing to the bed. “i want you on all fours. head down, ass up.”

your legs instantly moved toward the bed, crawling on top of it on your hands and knees, placing yourself in the middle, exactly the way he ordered. negan watched you with sharp eyes in this submissive position, a growl ringing through the room at the sight of your glistening pussy. only on display for him. he could feel how his cock hardened again, it was always so easy when it came to you.

during class, even just a small glance to your cleavage—which you always wore intentionally for him to see—got him going.

“hands to your back.” were the last words you registered—obeying him—before he got on the bed, positioning himself right behind you. a small whimper left your lips as you felt his tip nudging your entrance. “please.”

smack.

a stinging pain cursed through your body.

he gripped where your wrists crossed, pulling your upper body up. you could sense how he leaned down, how the heat radiated off his body. “are you gonna tease me like that again?”

smack.

“or have you made up your mind to finally behave and be a good girl for daddy?” he was so close, his hot breath was tickling the skin of your neck.

“yes! i’ll be good, i promise! just— please!” your words came out as a pathetic, desperate whine, your cunt was begging to be filled. that all too familiar chuckle rang through your ears as he straightened up again, placing a hand on your hip. “what do you want, doll?”

“negan! please— fuck me!” you couldn’t take it anymore, every nerve in your body screamed for release. you were so needy, you started to wriggle your hips, pushing them back against his cock but he kept still. a frustrated groan came out of your mouth as a tear glided down your cheek. “negan, i swear i’ll be—fuck!” you cut yourself off mid-sentence with a scream as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull.

negan just forced his entire length inside of you with a harsh thrust, completely bottoming out. “oh my god!” you cried out as your mouth hung open, trying to get used to this sharp pain abusing your lower body. you could never get used to him, not in this world. his cock was something different.

“you feel so fucking good, baby.” he grunted, gripping your flesh tighter as he began to move in slow, shallow thrusts, your wetness making it easy for him. your face contorted, the sting of his size cutting through you but the pleasure you received easily drowned it out. his tip pressed delicately against that one spot—settled deep inside of you—which he knew you loved so much. “you alright, sweetheart?”

“yes, harder! please, daddy.” you whimpered and as soon as he heard your words, his pounds got harsher, got faster. negan got lost in the way your walls wrapped around him so perfectly, how they helplessly clamped down on him. his eyes focused where your bodies connected, where he glided in and out of you so effortlessly, how your hole swallowed him up. “fuck— you’re taking me so well, baby. gonna fuck you stupid.”

your back arched in ecstasy when he wrapped a hand around your torso—releasing your wrists— and pulled you up even more, forcing your back to arch uncomfortably. a string of high pitched moans left your lips when he was able to hit that sensitive spot inside of you with great force, igniting sparks. “negan, negan,” you cried out at his strength and how good he was making you feel. and you could say, you were at a point where his name was all you could remember.

“that’s it, doll. scream my name.” he grunted, clashing his hips even rougher against your ass. you could feel how his free hand slid down your sides, tracing a line down to your core before he spanked it, making you squeal out in reply. “you like that, huh? you like getting fucked like the slut you are?”

“mmhh— yes, negan!” you managed to splutter out as he began to rub your clit in furious circles. the sudden sensation sent sparks through your whole body, making your thighs quiver uncontrollably. this only fueled your intense pleasure, and you could sense how that tingly feeling in your abdomen got stronger and stronger.

negan groaned when he felt your walls contracting around him, squeezing him so perfectly tight. “you feel so good, baby, fuck! are you gonna cum, sweetheart?” he breathed into your ear, licking the spot beneath it. “yesss—i’m close!” your eyes were shut and your head tossed back to lean against his chest. “not without my permission.” he chuckled darkly as he pulled out of your hole, the circles on your clit stopping as well.

a pathetic cry fell from your lips.

he actually pulled out of you.

your nearing orgasm faded away in mere seconds as tears pricked in your eyes. “negan… i— please.” you begged him, you needed him to fill you up again, needed him to make you orgasm. but this was his torture, his way of making you pay. he knew how much you hated it when he edged you, when he denied your orgasm. it was always amusing for him to watch. how your moans and begs turned even more desperate, how you would do anything to make him continue. you always were on his mercy. every single time.

“have you learned your lesson?” he growled, sending a harsh slap to your ass. “god! yes, i swear i’ll be good.”

“you’re lucky i love that sweet pussy of yours so much.” he smirked, and in the blink of an eye he had filled you to the brim again. this time he was so deep, you could feel his tip kissing your cervix. immediately, he was pistoning in and out of you like a fucking animal, he was giving you all he had. “negannnn!!” it really was the only word that seemed to come out of your mouth. he was the only thing you could think of—it was like he had a spell over you.

his fingers went back to assaulting your poor clit and in mere seconds that knot began to tighten again. with all that pent up frustration, that teasing, your highly craved orgasm seemed to come even quicker.

you knew you were on the verge of cumming, you just needed him to go even rougher. "f-faster, negan." you managed to choke out and he didn't need to hear that twice. with his head tipping back in ecstacy, he increased the speed of his hips clashing against your ass. his deep, harsh pounding, the abuse on your poor aching clit, the sound of skin clapping roughly together, the intense smell of sex in the room— it was all too much for you.

“fuck! i- i’m cumming!” a pornographic moan echoed through the whole house, the coil in your stomach finally snapped and pushed you off the edge. a long and powerful orgasm crashed through you as you threw your head back in bliss. negan pressed a calloused hand into the flesh above your pelvis, making your high all the more intense. and you thought you were seeing stars. you couldn't help yourself but screamed out his name, rolling it off your tongue in the most ecstatic way possible.

“yeah—cum all over my cock, little slut.” negan snarled, focusing on his own pleasure now completely. he kept his demonic pace up as he pushed your body forward again. your face was mushed up against the sheets and your hands hand onto them for dear life.

you almost thought you were passing out. the sensations you got to experience were indescribable. you were still lost in your previous orgasm, the after waves sending shockwaves through your veins and not to forget the overstimulation on your clit. it had you squirming and squealing beneath him. “god, negan. please, s-slow down.”

in reply negan landed a firm slap to your ass, making you shriek at the sudden sting. “shut your mouth and take it like the fucking whore you are.” his words sent shivers down your spine as you felt another slap to your ass. by now his handprint must’ve been imprinted in red on your skin.

you were a mess, your whimpers grew louder and louder as you let him use you. his fingers finally removed from your clit as he gripped at your hips. his groans got louder and his breath sharper by second. you knew he was close. “you want daddy to fill that pretty pussy up?”

“yes, daddy! please!”

the aggressive slamming of his hips became more erratic as a deafening growl rang through your ears, you felt his cock twitching hard, filling your velvety walls with his thick ropes of cum. “fucking hell, doll!” he shamelessly grunted, pushing his seed deep inside of you.

you moaned at the sensation of feeling so full while he made sure that he emptied every bit in you. negan mumbled something beneath his breath before he stopped his thrusts, eventually pulling out. you whined at the sudden emptiness.

he collapsed beside you, pulling you with him in the process. your face was resting against his chest and you could hear his racing heartbeat as he tried to calm down from his high. your hand was drawing small circles over his skin, your breathing still hard.

“you did so good for daddy, sweetheart.” negan smiled as he pulled your face up. he pressed his lips to yours, claiming them in a slow, passionate kiss while pulling your exhausted form closer. “i should tease you more often.” you mumbled against his lips, a smirk plastered on your face.

“and i should punish you more often.” he chuckled, capturing your lips again.

if negan fucks you this intensely and roughly every time you’re teasing him, then this will become your new mission in every single class with him.

requests are opened ☆

[ubeb0nes]

Sevika x fem!bar owner!reader

Pt. 2

༇ ༇ ༇

a/n: sorry this took so long lmao. I completely scrapped the first version i wrote of this because it just got too damn long

regardless, we're here now and i hope you enjoy!!

༇ ༇ ༇

"So… what is it exactly that you do?"

You'd asked her the question on yet another night where she'd stayed extra late, long after the last patrons had bid you a good night (or very early morning) and all the chairs had gone up.

(Sevika had put them up, even after you'd distinctly told her not to before you went into the kitchen. Your fault, really)

She ponders the question, wondering if you're playing at something more or really just asking. She knows you're smart. It's why she likes you. But she just doesn't know how smart.

"I hurt people, usually," she said casually. If the answer offended you, you displayed the opposite of it.

Your glasses clinking was the only sound to clash with the jukebox, ringing in a gentle sense of understanding on your part.

"A lucrative business here," you say.

"In the long-term. Better be, at least."

For someone who's known as The Lioness of the Lanes, it's a while before you ever see her lion'ing about or whatnot.

She's never violent in your establishment. But you know bad people, you know how to pick up someone's capacity for violence. Sevika has a huge one.

But you understand quickly that there's a reason she's called 'Lioness' and not 'hyena', or something. Her violence is never undue. If she bares her teeth, it's to protect.

Physical altercations aren't at all uncommon in your bar. It's the Undercity after all, these things happen but people always move on from it quickly.

You've noticed that people always seem to... "act right" whenever Sevika's at your bar that night. The meanest-looking men in your bar straighten their posture when she walks by their table, others greeting her with a nod of respect (or submission).

"Wow. I'm glad you like me, at least," you say as she sits down, right in front of you like always.

"Says who?" And she always gives that smug little smile when you laugh in response.

While she's watched/admired you put more than one customer on their ass for trying to cause a scene in your establishment, it's always with a protective posture.

She goes into guard dog mode the moment you cross out from behind the protection of your bar to tell a drunkard off. Her poker buddies poke fun at her for it.

She intervenes before you even get the chance to one time. Perhaps it's because the man keeps drunkenly bumping into her shoulder, or because his boisterous voice keeps causing her head to snap over to him.

You're busy laughing at her expense when the man turns his antics on you. You're perfectly content to brush off whatever rudeness he spouts at you, but Sevika clearly isn't when her hand shoots out and grabs the back of his neck.

He'd called you a dumbass or something of the sort in a more distasteful manner when you'd cut him off. Sevika's eyes had flared with a personal, wrathful anger before she'd grabbed him by the scruff.

"You know better," she snaps. It would be as if she were lecturing a child if it weren't for the man's face pressed against the bar. She's pressing him into the surface with nothing but the strength of her human arm, her large body looming over his as he slurs out an apology.

God, you wished she would grab you like that- who said that??

The next time she comes in, you insist her whiskey's on the house.

"Consider it compensation for dealing with that guy last night." She rolls her eyes at you as she lights her cigarillo on the lighter you offer, and throws a few bills on the bartop anyway (hot).

You throw them back at her with a playful glare, and subsequently earn yourself a real one. You feel a shiver run down your spine that's for any reason but fear.

"Don't play this game with me, you'll lose." To you, that really didn't sound all that bad.

Before you can even think, she's leaning forward and tucking the bills into the pocket of your apron in the middle of your sternum. The look she wears is challenging as she sits back, almost expectant of a reaction.

You don't disappoint, reaching out with two fingers to pluck the cigarillo from her lips and taking your own drag. Your eyes never leave hers, watching her shamelessly stare at that damn cigarillo with a burning jealousy.

"Hm. I picked a good brand, didn't I?" "Yeah, yeah, hand it back before you choke, princess."

You try not to let it get to your head (and heart) how it makes you feel when she calls you that, or any other name like 'baby', 'sweetheart', or 'beautiful'.

And you try not to let it get to your head how you seem to be the only one here who she calls those things.

Neither of you had any idea how hopelessly hers you already were.

While Sevika's "occupation" slowly becomes clearer to you, the amount of energy she puts into protecting you is completely out of sight and mind.

She tries to convince herself that her reasoning for continually lying in Silco's face is purely pragmatic; you're good for the community, providing a warm reprieve for the kids in the city against the harsh reality of Silco's slow revolution. As far as she's concerned, Zaun profits more from your continued thriving than any amount of money she could intimidate out of you.

The idea of ever coming into your bar for collections makes her a little sick, if she's honest. Never you. It's far too late for that now.

So when Silco sends her to do exactly that (because you're just that savvy at running your business), she feels her heart churn. She can only say no to Silco so many times and in so many ways. There's no way around this one without raising his suspicions, and she doesn't have the backing to combat that yet.

Your unfailing smile when you see her comes in makes her want to punch her own face in. She hates that she's fond of you.

"Hey good-lookin', you're late! What kept y-" "I'm here on business this time." "O..oh...?"

She explains Silco's tax with a coldness you've grown unfamiliar with from her. You take it like you would a slap to the face, growing angry before you can risk feeling sad.

"Sevika, what the hell is this? I've minded my damn business ever since I opened, the hell did I do to piss him off?" "It isn't personal, princess. You asked me what I do. I don't think I ever gave you the impression it was pretty." "If I knew petty extortion was what freedom-fighting meant to you, then I would've kept those cigs for myself."

You don't give her much more room to say anything after that before you're throwing a bag of coins at her and telling her to get the fuck out. She expected as much. You were hardy and quick to adapt, just like Zaun.

Sevika's done plenty of things in the name of a better future that she isn't proud of. But your money seemed to burn a hole through her hand, and the sting didn't fade even after she'd dropped it on Silco's desk.

"Good work," he said flippantly, as if she didn't always do good work. Go to hell.

She imagines it's your hand holding her lighter when she smokes through nearly half a pack later that night.

The soft voice of a shelved version of her whispers that maybe just this once, she should fight for something only she wants.

She tries to push away the thought and reason that it was always going to end up this way anyways, while you close down the bar for the night alone.

[corroded-hellfire]

Tiny Dancer - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Summary: It’s your daughter Eliza’s first recital and Eddie couldn’t be prouder

Note: This idea came to me and would not leave me alone until I wrote it 💕

Warnings: older!eddie, dad!eddie

Words: 1.9k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Why did I have to wear a tie?” Luke complains, yanking at his buttoned-up collar. 

Eddie leans forward so he can see Luke around Ryan, who is seated between them.

“Because this is a special occasion. Your sister’s first recital.”

“They’re three-year-olds,” Luke hisses in a whisper, one hand gesturing towards the empty stage. 

“Hey,” Ryan says to his brother, “she cheered louder than anyone for you at your baseball game. You can do this for her.”

Eddie nods at his oldest in thanks. 

Luke turns to you and asks, “Think her hair is still all up in the bun?”

Wrangling your daughter’s dark curls into the ballerina bun on the top of her head had been a massive undertaking. Some spirals were shorter than others, so there were always a few popping out right as you would go to secure the hair with the white bow. It was an immense test of patience to try time and time again all while Eliza became more antsy and less appreciative of you tugging on strands of hair. She ended up with enough hairspray on her little head to make her hair as hard as a helmet. 

“It’s out of my hands now,” you say, wiping your hands and holding them up in defeat. “If Ms. Benson wants to deal with a curl going rogue, that’s on her.”

The lights dim and eight little ballerinas walk onstage, all with hands on their hips, poofy pink tutus flaring out just below them. Their instructor, Ms. Benson, follows them out to make sure they’re all in the spots they should be. 

Eliza is the third ballerina from the left, and she looks so precious you think your heart might burst. Her white tights and ballet slippers somehow aren’t stained even though they’d been in your house longer than forty-eight hours. The pink leotard and tutu give her the regal air of a princess, though that might just be Eliza’s own aura. She’s nothing if not captivatingly glamorous. It looks like all of her unruly curls are still on their best behavior, but it would be hard to see one or two offenders that sprang loose from the audience anyway.

You peek over at Eddie and see him beaming as he looks at your little girl up onstage. He feels your gaze and turns his head to meet your eyes. The pride on his face makes your heart melt against your ribs. Eliza hasn’t even done anything yet and Eddie is over the moon.

“She’s so beautiful,” Eddie whispers.

“Like her dad,” you reply, giving him a wink. 

He playfully rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the touch of pink that colors his cheeks. Luke puts his hands on his stomach and pretends to gag. Eddie thunks him on the back of the head. 

Ms. Benson finishes her inspection and gives the girls a thumbs up. She scurries off stage, all ballerinas still with hands on hips. None of them can truly stay still, though. A few are swaying, one is twisting from side to side, and Eliza shakes one little leg, her knee bouncing up and down. You’re unsure if it’s due to nerves or anticipation. 

A few moments later, the speakers above the stage crackle to life. The opening notes of music tinkle and the voice of young Shirley Temple singing On The Good Ship Lollipop floats through the air. 

Eliza and her fellow dancers start to move, tapping the slipper on one foot on the stage in front of them, then switching to the other foot. It’s hard to tell what foot they’re all supposed to be on, since it’s split about fifty-fifty with what foot each girl is using. 

On The Good Ship Lollipop

It's a sweet trip to a candy shop

Where bon-bons play

On the sunny beach of Peppermint Bay

Arms go above Eliza’s head as she spins around, little feet stomping around in a small circle rather than spinning on one foot. Once she’s facing forward again, her arms come down to shoulder level and her knees bend and straighten, bend and straighten, as the ballerinas bounce. Again, all girls are going at different times and speeds, so it’s hard to know on which notes they’re supposed to be up or down on. 

Lemonade stands everywhere

Crackerjack bands fill the air

And there you are

Happy landing on a chocolate bar

Next, it’s one hand back on the hip and one hand waving out to the crowd as the dancers rock from side to side. You specifically remember Eliza practicing this move at home and she kept reiterating how her toes needed to be pointed on the foot she wasn’t balancing on. Only two other girls have their toes pointed at the appropriate times, so you can tell they didn’t take this step as seriously as your daughter. 

The moves of the eight tiny dancers are clunky and mismatched, which makes the performance all the cuter. When they all walk to the right on tippy toes, they’re at varying heights, some more flat-footed than others. On the march back to the left, one girl stomps so hard you can hear the clacking of her slippers. 

With arms out, the girls do one more twirl and then take their bows. 

The crowd breaks into applause and the small girls smile, appreciating the praise for their performances. The ballerina farthest on the right jumps up and down in excitement and the one on Eliza’s left waves furiously to her family. But Eliza stays in her final position, grinning from ear to ear as she looks out at you and her guys. 

“Yay, Eliza!” Luke cheers. 

Ms. Benson comes out, leads the girls in one more bow, then ushers them all off. The applause is still going.

“There’s my ballerina!” Eddie grins and catches Eliza as she runs over and leaps into his arms. He presses a smacking kiss to her cheek and squeezes her in his arms. “Mwah!”

“I did good?” she asks as the other girls reunite with their families all around you. 

“You were wonderful,” you tell her, leaning in to give her a kiss on the opposite cheek. “Did you hear me cheer for you?” Luke asks.

“Yes,” Eliza says with a giggle. “So loud!”

“Of course, it’s Luke,” Ryan says. He ignores Luke’s jab to his ribs as he reaches up and presents his sister with a bouquet of white flowers or different varieties.

Eliza beams and takes the crinkling plastic wrapping from him. She leans in to sniff the flowers and giggles as a few brush her nose.

“I got flowers!”

“For being the best ballerina ever,” you tell her.

“I love! Can you hold ‘em, Daddy?”

“Of course, my little ballerina.” He takes the bouquet from her with his free hand.

Ryan pulls on the bottom ruffle of his little sister’s tutu. “You look like a pretty poof ball.”

“Mama, can you take bow out?” Eliza asks.

“Sure thing, sweet pea.”

Eddie bends down a bit so you can see the top of her head. As gently as you can, you unwind the bow from her hair, wincing when you accidentally tug on it. Tough little girl that she is though, Eliza doesn’t whine.

Once you get it out, you do your best to stifle a laugh. It’s not good enough though, a snort of laughter breaking through your hand covering your mouth. Luke and Ryan laughing as well doesn’t help, either. 

“What?” Eliza asks with a pout.

“Sweetie,” Eddie says, also with a small chuckle, “I think Mommy used so much hairspray on you that your hair is stuck up in a bun all by itself.”

She gasps and her hands go to the top of her head. She feels around the stiff hair, moving backwards to the curly bun that hasn’t fallen one little bit since you took the bow out. Short fingers inspect the bun and Eliza turns to look at you with panicked eyes.

“Mama!” she cries. “My hair!”

“It’s okay, Liza,” you tell her, not able to help a small giggle coming out with your words. You pat her back soothingly. “As soon as you take a bath, it’ll be good as new.”

Your words visibly calm her. Her shoulders lower, though she still keeps her hands up on her hair. Now that she knows it isn’t stuck that way, she’s able to find the humor in it. Small giggles turn into loud laughter as she begins to shake her head from side to side like a wet dog getting out of the bath. Her hair hardly moves, only wobbling a little when she really whips her head around. 

“Do you want me to put your bow back in since we’re going out to eat?” you ask.

Eliza gasps. “We are?”

“Yep! Wherever you want,” Luke says, but adds under his breath, “despite my begging.”

“Yes, bow please.”

“What do you want to eat?” Ryan asks as you secure the soft white bow back around her stiff bun.

“Mmm…pancakes!”

“Ooh, breakfast for dinner,” Luke says, nodding his head in approval. “Nice choice. I’ll gladly wear my fancy schmancy suit while eating a waffle.”

“Okay, you can take off the tie now,” Eddie says. “I don’t feel like washing syrup out of it.”

“You don’t feel like washing syrup out of it?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at your husband.

Eliza pats her dad’s shoulder three times, as if she didn’t already have his attention.

“Mama does wash.”

“You tell him, kid,” Ryan says to his little sister. 

“Why you taking the girls’ side?” Eddie asks as you all begin to head towards the doors.

Ryan looks over at his little brother who is wrestling to get his tie off over his head. It’s currently stuck around his eyes and Luke just keeps tugging on it. 

“I’m not on his side,” Ryan says, looking back towards his dad. 

“Well, help him!” Eddie scolds Ryan.

“I gotcha, Luke,” you say.

A few strategic pulls and you have the knot undone, the green tie falling away into your hand.

“Thanks,” Luke says as he reaches up to rub his nose. “How’d you learn to undo ties?”

“Taking dad’s off,” Ryan says with a smirk.

Both you and Eddie whip your head towards Ryan with wide eyes. Luckily, both of his siblings are too young to get his innuendo. The further he gets into his teenage years, the more subtly inappropriate comments he makes.

“Dad doesn’t wear ties a lot,” Luke says.

“You’re right, Luke,” you say, ruffling his curls. Then you step closer to Ryan and wrap your arm around his head, your hand closing in over his mouth. “And you need to watch yourself, Mr. Teenager.”

Ryan mumbles something beneath your hand and the muffled sound makes Eliza laugh. When you still don’t move your hand, Ryan licks it, and you yank it back. Eliza laughs even harder at that. 

“You think it’s funny?” you tease, wiping your saliva-coated hand off on your daughter’s tight-clad leg. She squirms in Eddie’s arms, her legs kicking and almost catching him in the crotch.

“Ewww!” Eliza squeals. 

“I don’t have germs,” Ryan says.

“Yes, you do,” Luke and Eliza say at the same time. 

“Can I eat at a different restaurant?” Ryan asks.

“Nope,” you say, looping your arm through his. “You’re stuck with us.”

“Yep!” Eliza echoes. “You’re stuck!”

[quizzicalwriter]

i really love ur writing especially with any matt dillon character <3 i feel like u improved sm with ur recent fics too (or maybe i just like the angst HAHA) but uve always been a great writer, i love how u also include canon details and like realistic details (if that makes sense) but u just r really good with expressing ur words!! id love if u wrote smut like dally bothering fem!reader working a shift at the diner or something idk nonetheless ur writing is sosososgood

Cherry

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas makes everything better after a shitty day at work, most of which had been his fault in the first place.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Pain in the ass Dallas. Make-up sex, fingering, oral, all that good stuff.

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words! And thank you for the request!

Word Count: 4.5k

Working at a local diner wasn't necessarily the high point of your life, working the closing shift even less so. Dealing with inebriated patrons, groups of teenagers, and the occasional male who stayed well past the hours of operation was your usual.

It was a cute thing, the diner, owned by a man who'd inherited the land from his grandfather. His wife had based the menu on her recipes, along with a few from her mother, grandmother, and so on. You'd worked there long enough to gain their trust, and if you were honest, you saw them more as your grandparents than you did your employers.

Dallas accompanied you on the busier nights, whenever he passed by and caught sight of the unruly nighttime crowd, he'd duck into the diner and give you a crooked grin before making his way over to the counter. You fed him, or gave him drinks, just as you did the remainder of the guys whenever you could get away with doing so. It was calming, and made you feel safe having your guard-dog of a boyfriend waiting by the front counter until you flipped the sign that hung on the front door.

While his presence was welcome, the attention it drew was not. Possessive streaks weren't something you prided yourself on. You trusted Dallas as anyone would their boyfriend, but you weren't blind to him either. Dallas was a man, a cocky man at that, his cockiness flared whenever a woman looked his way for longer than a second. Had he ever truly pursued someone other than yourself? No, but, you couldn't help your jealousy whenever a woman approached him with glossed lips and bright eyes.

Internally you thrived on him turning down each woman that came his way, although, much to your dismay, some women took longer to disperse than others had. Whether it was due to Dallas's charm, or their persistence, you weren't sure, nor did you have the ability to check during busy shifts, especially when a man who looked as though he'd seen conflict in the Civil War whistled from the other end of the diner.

"Miss!" He called, waving his hand higher than he had seconds ago. Truthfully, you weren't ignoring him, you'd had to run two other checks to nearby booths and had simply forgotten about him. "Miss!"

With a feigned smile, you peeled your attention from the woman all but draping herself over Dallas, her thin fingers splayed over his forearm. He smiled back at her, the sight made your stomach sour enough for you to partially crumble the bill you'd written up moments prior for the increasingly impatient man.

"Here's your bill, sir. I'm sorry for the wait, busy as all get out tonight."

Your apology was met with a gruff laugh, but he seemed to understand your plight as he followed your line of sight back toward the front counter. While he signed the bottom of the receipt, he cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him.

"Ain't no sense in apologizin'." He responded with a lift of his hips as he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. "I get why your attention's elsewhere."

You opened your mouth to apologize, only to be met with the raise of his hand as he placed a few dollars down on the table, enough to cover the tab and your tip. It was generous and kind enough to leave you mentally berating yourself for not having given him better service. But, you ventured by the kind, almost apologetic smile upon his face that he had been in a similar situation in his youth.

Incessant laughter bubbled from the opposing side of the diner, the noise boisterous enough to pick away at your fading patience. You pocketed the cash, inwardly begging whatever deity listening for the grace to clean up shop and kick the girl out without causing a scene.

Their conversation continued, words muffled by distance and the clatter of putting away cutlery, although you tried your damndest to overhear it all. You began your routine of cleaning up house, a wet rag over your shoulder with a bottle of cleaning solution in your left hand. As you spritzed a nearby table, her laughter kicked up a notch, yet again.

"We're closing!" You called, giving her a feigned smile as she turned her head to face you. She returned your smile, just as you had given it to her, coarse and fake. You bit at your inner cheek as she turned back to Dallas, her hand lifting to rest against his shoulder.

"Hey, we're closed!" You shouted, tone louder than before. Dallas peered at you from behind her shoulder, face a mixture of shock and amusement. You were having none of it, not her bold and brazen behavior, his cockiness - none of it. You tossed your rag toward the counter, slinging the bottle alongside it as you moved toward them.

The woman, for what it was worth, met your eyes as you approached. The sudden eye contact left you stumbling over your thoughts, but as you caught sight of her hand still lingering upon his shoulder, all sense of humility left you.

"He's taken, did you know that?" You asked as you grabbed her wrist, quickly shoving it back toward her. Her smile faltered then, her eyes flickering between you and Dallas as she backed away. "No, I suppose you didn't."

All anger you had directed toward her vanished with each step she took toward the door, instead raising and flaring at the man sitting beside you. You turned, meeting his gaze with a scowl and a shake of your head.

"Seriously, Dallas?" You asked, although you knew no response he could provide at that moment would abate the growing ache in your chest. "You're an asshole. A real - fuckin' - asshole."

Each pause was accentuated with a shove of his shoulder, jealousy seething in your mind, burning your eyes with tears you refused to let him see. You could tell from the sudden switch of emotion on his face, albeit blurred from your tears, that he hadn't meant to hurt you. His hands grabbed your forearms, holding you steady whilst simultaneously shielding himself from your jealousy-fueled tirade. You were in no mood for his touch, so you pulled away from it with a grunt.

The sooner you finished closing up shop, the sooner you'd be away from him. Those words rang in your mind as you walked away from him, repeating with each step as though it were a mantra.

It was shitty; your jealousy, his cockiness, it was a toxic mix that neither of you relished in. You had known going into your relationship with Dallas how he handled interactions with women, you knew where his loyalties were, yet some part of you continued to twist and sour with each look his way.

Maybe it was the extra shifts you'd taken at the diner, the fewer hours you were able to spend by his side, being reassured by his touch and his words. Whatever it was, you hadn't the patience to linger on it, all you wanted to do was wallow in your anger - so, you did.

"Doll!" He called, although he was met with no answer as you tossed unclean plastic menus onto the countertop. You could hear him walking toward you, swearing under his breath, yet you continued to ignore him as you snagged your house keys from underneath the counter.

"Christ's sake, I didn't say a damn thing to the broad!"

"That's not the point." You sighed, shaking your head as you spoke, fingers blindly fumbling with your keyring as you neared the front entrance. "Not the point at all, and you know it."

Once your fingers had found the key to the front door, you hastened your pace, not necessarily wishing to have an argument with Dallas in the middle of the night. Dallas, however, absolutely seemed up to the challenge. He stood behind you, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, a heavy scowl on his face as he watched you lock the place up.

"Explain it to me then." He whispered, and for a second you believed him to be apologetic. "'Cause this attitude, it ain't helpin' your cause."

And then he ruined it.

You swirled on your heel, months of pushed-aside irritation bubbling to the surface. You weren't one for confrontation, never had been, it was a sore point for you. You quickly pocketed your keys, hands gripping the middle of your jacket, tugging it snug around your middle.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" You asked. "You could've shooed her away, told her you were with someone. And yet, you- you entertain it."

The words would've rung home for anyone willing to listen, but Dallas, with his stubborn ways, only cocked his head to the side and gave you a lopsided grin.

"I'm not interested in other women." He responded, taking a step closer to you. "I can't help who talks to me, doll. I ain't entertaining anything, you know that."

Did you? Maybe, but in your jealousy-fueled haze, you refused to admit your part in the misunderstanding. He lifted his right hand from his pocket, placing it against your upper arm, thumb gently rubbing along the fabric of your jacket.

"Do you worry about me?" He asked with a duck of his head, trying to center your attention back on him. "Worry about me talkin' to other girls?"

You nodded, and instead of snickering, he pulled you forward. You thudded against his chest, the sudden move knocking a bit of wind from your lungs. His arms wrapped around you as he laughed out an apology, the sound soft, the words genuine.

"Still an asshole." You murmured, resting your cheek on his chest as your hands grasped onto the back of his jacket. You felt him nod, chin atop your head, his hands smoothing up your back.

"I know." He replied. "At least let me drive you home, alright? Even if you're pissed."

"Not pissed." You assured, leaning back from the embrace to meet his gaze. "Might have overreacted."

Dallas clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyebrows screwing together as he nodded his head back. "No," he chuckled. "I would've done the same if some guy talked to you."

The thought made you smile, not that you hadn't seen Dallas's protective side flair. You were both territorial over each other, and there was nothing necessarily wrong with that as long as the feelings were reciprocated - which they were in their entirety.

"Ever notice how empty this lot is at night?" He commented, snapping you from your mind with a gentle squeeze of your hip. "Hardly any cars pass by, somethin' I noticed after a few nights sittin' by the counter."

Dallas hadn't been wrong, not in the slightest. In truth, you would've been surprised if you'd caught anyone lingering in the parking lot after closing. Your town wasn't quiet by any means, but the diner had been built around, years of infrastructure hiding it amidst a cluster of run-down businesses.

With a hum, you leaned into his side. "Guess you're right." You replied, tilting your head back to give him a squinty-eyed smile, on account of the nearby flickering lot light.

"Could make you feel better." He whispered. "On account of earlier, or whatever."

You snickered, rolling your eyes at his blatant suggestion, yet for all its crudeness, you couldn't deny the stir you felt in your lower stomach.

"You're filthy." You chided, nudging his side with your elbow.

Dallas huffed out a laugh, his arm looping around your back. "C'mon," he urged as he began walking, leading you toward his car. "Ain't wasting the opportunity to make you feel better."

Mere moments had passed before you were both clamoring into the back of the Thunderbird, limbs bumping into limbs, soft laughter echoing inside the vehicle as Dallas reached over your middle to pull the door shut. As soon as the door had shut, your lips were on his, your hands blindly fumbling with the front of his jeans.

You'd just gotten the button undone when his hands wrapped around your wrists, pulling them back as he pulled away from your kiss. You were left pouting, the sight adorable and pitiful enough to pull a laugh from Dallas as he set your hands down in your lap.

"This is for you, not me. Let me make you feel good."

Dallas focusing his sole attention on you? On pleasing you, no less? How could you refuse? Elated laughter bubbled in your chest as his hands slid up and underneath your skirt, the fabric bunching up around your hips. You helped him with a gentle lift of your hips, allowing him to hook his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, before slinking the fabric down your legs.

"You're going to cum on my tongue." He stated, tone full of nonchalance as he tossed your underwear toward the front of the car. "And, I want you over me when you do."

"You want me to sit on your face?" You asked, lips quirking up into a smile as you bit back laughter, truly believing he was joking. "Is that what you're asking me?"

Dallas only nodded, and only then did the realization of his request register in your mind. Heat prickled at the nape of your neck, spreading forward until it encompassed your chest in a deep blush. Sensing your nerves, Dallas's thumbs rubbed gentle circles above your hip bones, his head ducking down to meet your avoidant gaze.

"Hey," he whispered. "Ain't nothin' I haven't seen before. It'll feel good, doll, promise."

So, you allowed him to help you into a position that didn't have both of you groaning in discomfort. Maneuvering into a position where you straddled his shoulders, in the back of an already narrow car, wasn't exactly the easiest to accomplish. Somehow, you both managed, mostly thanks to Dallas's hands keeping you steady as you moved over him.

The chill of his silver rings bit into your thighs, keeping you sunk in the present, hovered over him as he looked up at you from below. There was nothing other than pure, unadulterated lust pouring from his eyes, pupils blown so heavily there was only a crescent of color visible. His fingers tapped, once and then again, a nonverbal request for you to lower yourself.

So you did.

He met you halfway, tongue licking a fat stripe up your cunt, delving between your folds to collect your essence against his tastebuds. He wanted to savor you, that much was readily apparent by his hardened grasp on your thighs, all but cementing you atop his face. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as a plethora of broken-off moans tumbled past your lips.

You begged for him, murmuring his name between praises lost on your ears, but not his. Each word, no matter how garbled by pleasure, left his hips rutting up into the air as he circled his tongue around your clit. Your hips moved in synchrony with his tongue, adjacent swirls, and he let you. He had always favored dominance, being in control of the situation, but having you atop him had him praising every divine figure he could conjure in his lust-riddled mind.

“Dallas-“ You crooned, the noise so sweet it pulled a moan from his chest, the vibration left directly against your aching cunt. You smiled, a mixture of a laugh and moan leaving you as your hands raked through his hair, tugging at the short strands. “So good, Dal.”

With an open-mouthed kiss to your clit, he pulled away. It was for a fraction of a second, needed to slip his right hand between your thighs, but you were left whining and pouting. He tutted from between your thighs, lips, and chin glistening with your cum.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispered as his middle and ring fingers pushed inside of you, delicately curling to brush against a spot that had your thighs clamping down around him. “It'll feel good, I promise.”

His left hand squeezed your hip, guiding you just as he would if you were riding him. You unconsciously followed his guidance, sliding down onto his fingers, before raising yourself, only to repeat the motion over, and over. Lewd squelches sounded from between your thighs, your cunt dripping a mixture of cum and saliva down onto his palm.

“See?” He asked through a breathy laugh, quickly resuming his position between your thighs. “Told ‘ya I’d make you feel better.”

You wanted to berate him for his cockiness, you truly did, but the feeling of his lips encircling your clit left you breathless. If anything, any ridicule would’ve turned into a garbled mess of his name.

A groan of a laugh reverberated in Dallas’s chest, yet he never pulled away. His tongue lapped at your clit, intervals of swirls and sucks following each grunt he managed to sound out. The sounds were carnal, stoking the steadily building flame in your lower stomach. Your fingers tightened their hold on his hair, pulling him closer, yourself closer. In truth, you weren’t sure if he could breathe, but neither of you moved from where you were.

“That’s it, doll.” He rasped, words hardly audible, muffled from your cunt. You managed a sighed moan in response, your hips rolling, sliding your cunt against his tongue. His fingers thrusted into you, mimicking the tempo of his eager tongue, each lap and circle of the muscle pushing you closer to the edge.

The uptake of an octave, your head rolling back as your eyes squeezed shut; Dallas knew each instinctual move of your body by heart. His eyes stayed locked on you, memorizing the sight of you coming undone above him, riding his face like a woman starved. His free hand lifted from your hip, curving around the plush of your ass, knowing he needed a tight hold on you to keep you steady.

“Dal-“

There it was, the familiar beckon of his name. His cock strained against the confines of his boxers, tip leaking precum, smearing against the now dampened fabric. His thighs tensed as his hips rolled, desperately seeking some form of reprieve as your cunt twitched around his fingers. Instead of verbalizing his reply, he squeezed the swell of your ass, wordlessly urging you to cum.

White-hot pleasure seared your veins, unconsciously twitching your limbs, tightening your hold on his hair. Your cunt spasmed, clit throbbing against his circling tongue. You cursed under your breath, eyes squeezed shut, mind solely focused on the ecstasy overtaking your body. Dallas grounded you with slow brushes of his hand along your thigh, fingers still inside of you, lips placing gentle kisses on your oversensitive clit.

“Alright?” He asked, tone rough enough to pull a surprised laugh from you. You nodded, threading your fingers through his hair.

“More than alright.” You replied. “Way more.”

Instead of hovering over his face for another second with wobbly legs, you moved yourself back, giving Dallas enough time to situate himself upright. His hands found your hips quickly after, gently guiding you back to his lap.

In an almost instinctive move, you lowered yourself to place your lips on his. His hands slid around your back, fingers absentmindedly grabbing at the fabric of your uniform as his lips moved with yours.

You braced yourself against the rear windshield, the slick condensation gathering in the palm of your hands, smearing your fingerprints down the pane as your lips moved against his. If anyone had passed by, anyone at all, they would've gathered what you both had gotten up to.

Neither of you could bring yourself to care, not when Dallas slipped his hands underneath the back of your shirt, his fingernails scraping along the curve of your back to have you closer as he sucked your tongue.

Your lips curved into a smile at the move, the lucrative, nearly addictive slide of his tongue against your own. He knew you, knew your body and how to make it tick. Your hips rocked against his lap, causing his already hard cock to twitch and pulse against the confines of his jeans.

"You're still hard," you rasped into the kiss, "I can make you feel good, too."

He groaned, his eyebrows knitting together as his hips bucked up into you. You bit at your bottom lip as you moved your hands from the rear windshield, letting your now cool skin slide down his front, keeping your eyes locked with his as you unzipped his jeans.

His lips parted in a silent moan as your hand slipped underneath the hem of his boxers, your fingers curling around the thick base of his cock. You could feel each twitch of his cock beneath your palm, the skin slick and warm, coated in his precum. You slid your hand up, leisurely pumping him, the act enough to have him grunting out your name.

You savored each lecherous moan that fell from his lips. With a shift of your hips, you centered yourself over his thigh, rolling your hips down in tandem with each stroke of his cock. You knew you were dampening the denim, soiling it, yet all you saw reflected in Dallas's eyes was the same debauchery you held heavy in your mind.

“Fuck me.” You begged, tired of the hassle, of denying yourself the most innate of pleasures. He relented with a lift of your body, allowing his hard cock to slide along your folds, catching against you. You watched as he lowered you onto him, his cock sliding into you deliciously slow.

Thin, red lines followed his nails as they dragged up the skin of your thighs, coming to a halt at your hips where he steadied you. You could feel his cock pulse inside of you, twitching just before your cervix. You watched him with bated breath, allowing him to guide each movement of your hips, and he did so with precision.

"So tight," he murmured, eyebrows knitted together in a mixture of pure lust and concentration, as though the mere sight of you atop him would undo him if he gave into it. "So fuckin' good."

All you could muster was a moan in response, your hips rolling forward, each forward motion brushing your clit against his lower stomach. Your thighs strained, muscles burning, yet you paid them no mind in favor of the persistent push of Dallas's cock, the way his tip brushed against your g-spot with each shift of his hips.

His eyes flitted, sight torn between your breasts and the needy, desperate look in your eyes. He shifted beneath you, planting his feet against the floorboard, giving himself enough stability to thrust upward, pushing himself deeper than before.

The shift in position forced the air from your lungs, a pitiful, broken-off mess of a moan passing your parted lips as you grasped his shoulders. He whispered something to you, but whatever it was had been lost on your muddled mind in favor of the budding feeling of ecstasy coiling in your lower stomach.

"Dallas-" You whined, the urgency in your call not lost on him. He nodded, wetting his lips as he rolled his hips upward. You could feel your arousal dripping between your thighs, smearing along your skin as well as his, coating his lower stomach in your cum.

"That's it, doll." He whispered, his left hand moving between your thighs to circle his thumb around your clit, rhythm syncing with each pump of his hips. "C'mon, cum for me."

Ecstasy coiled tight in your stomach, and with each swirl of his thumb and pump of his cock, you felt it twist tighter and tighter. Your hands moved from his shoulders, fingers threading through the back of his hair where you pulled. His mouth fell open, eyebrows lifting as an expression of shock-induced euphoria crossed his face.

So, you pulled harder, the harshness of your hold mirrored in the desperate way you fucked yourself on his cock, movements so frenzied you felt your muscles burning beneath your skin.

A deep, almost sinful moan rumbled in his chest. You swallowed it with a kiss to his lips, hands moving to his jaw as your tongue moved with his. His thumb was slick against your clit, and with a gasp of his name, your cunt spasmed around his cock.

"Fuck, that's it." He groaned, words strained as he teetered on the edge of his orgasm. "Let it out, doll."

Your lips moved from his, kisses trailing down his cheek, onto his jaw, before you settled your cheek to his shoulder, simply choosing to give yourself over to the onslaught of pleasure Dallas had you wrapped up in. Dallas's hold on your hip tightened as his head fell back, his eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched as his cock twitched inside of you, each pulse filling you with his cum.

You both shared the blissful silence that came afterward, the only noises being the occasional breath and whispered praise, the brush of his hands against your skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, words muffled by the press of his lips against your throat. "I'm sorry."

Apologies weren't common with Dallas. To his benefit, he hadn't done much to call for one, but this - this you appreciated. You nodded, leaning into his touch, his lips, with a thread of your fingers through his hair. He continued murmuring into your skin, you drank in each word, heart slowing in your chest, calming with the promises he spoke only to you.

His hand moved from your hip, thumb, and forefinger resting against your chin, tipping your head up to meet his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed together, skin coated in a thin veneer of sweat. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip, yet his eyes never left yours.

"You're my girl." He whispered, and you nodded. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."

You placed a kiss on the pad of his thumb, the sincerity in his words causing you to smile. He smiled in return, fingers splaying against your cheek where he held you gently.

"It won't happen again, alright?"

His words were soft, the sentiment mirrored in his eyes. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He met your embrace with one of his own, wrapping his arms around the small of your back, hands gently caressing between your shoulder blades.

"Good apology, been workin' on it for a while?" You joked, placing a kiss on his jaw with a soft bout of laughter. You felt him laugh, the vibration of his chest against yours.

"Nope." He admitted, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. "You're worth a genuine apology."

"Sap." You teased, but your tone gave way to your true feelings, how much you appreciated his honesty, his words. He caught on, but never made it known, instead choosing to reply with another kiss to your skin.

"Yeah, guess I am."

A/N: Siri, play "Lover, You Should've Come Over" by Jeff Buckley, please! No, but seriously, I finished this piece with that song on repeat. Alas, I am not dead! I won't lie, I've suffered with pretty damn bad writers block. Somehow, I finished this. I hope you all like it! Thank you for your continuous support of me and my work, I value you all more than I could ever put into words! I hope this piece makes up for my time gone, see it as an early Valentine's gift!

[frostedclock-writes]

hello I'm the one that asked about the Alastor pov! super excited for it ehehe

While reading the latest chapter I was imagining how Alastor could've felt when seeing reader with hanahaki and how he could've felt when she finally told him and the angst in my head was yummy which is why I asked lmao

in my head, Alastor would be ready to kill whoever hurt the reader via hanahaki (+be hella jealous) only to realize, oops, he's the cause of it

Alastor definitely felt a multitude of feelings in that moment.

Here a special treat anon ♥️

Wrote this real quick (flip side of the last chapter)

---

Alastor stopped the elevator, a simple bit of his magic caused the old elevator to stop in its tracks. She wasn't going to slip away so easily. He slipped through the shadows to the small confined space. His left hoof sank into what at first felt like a wet ripped up sack, but the scent was unmistakable. Blood and magnolia blossoms. Sickly sweet to his nose.

His ears twitched. His smile deepened into a stretched grimace as he pulled his hoof up from the mess with a squish kind of sound.

" How unsightly. "

His eyes moved to his target. Y/N.

A small image of her hugging onto Vox's arm cross his thoughts and his nails dug into his palms. He kept his poise, though. He moved away from the puddle and his eyes were trained on her. The woman who has been at his side for so long, his drinking buddy, perpetual dance partner, faithful friend. Someone who waited for him for so long. And then didn't even question where or what he had been doing other then simply stating how she had worried for his safety. Someone like him. Who has countless times used that faithfulness to his own gain.

" You think you can just slip away like that?" Alastor kept his tone as even as he could. His eyes darted to the mess in the floor.

How long had this been going on?

" and now I can see why you haven't been feeling yourself. "

Had she been like this since she arrived? This affliction happened to those in hell who held feelings for one and wouldn't speak them. Was there someone in life that she had held dear and he didn't notice? Or perhaps she developed it in hell. Vox perhaps? Or someone else. Y/N often had been seen at Husker's bar.

" It's nothing." She spoke with such weight in her voice.

A spike in anger hit Alastor like a ton of bricks. She was hurting herself over someone and hadn't even shared it with him! She shared everything with him. Or so he thought.

" Nothing?!"

He moved without much thought. Anger and the instinct to close the space brought him towering over her. She didn't falter. She never seemed frightened of him, even when his temper flared like this.

"Do you even really care? Did you ever care? About me?"

How could she even say that?

He never cared for many people. But she was one exception beyond one woman Alastor knew he wouldn't ever see again. He sat up and looked down at her. Was he missing something?

" What?"

She was crying. No, he liked the smile she usually saved special for him. He felt his own smile twitch. " Or was i just some fun thing to have around? Or did you just like the idea of having someone around that would do anything for you?"

No not just that. More than that.

" Cher..."

"No. Don't... Cher me, Alastor. " She spoke so broken.

" Y/N..." Alastor's couldn't believe this is how she had been feeling, he stopped her from rubbing again on her already reddened cheeks. " How could you ask me that? I care a great deal about you. " He held her trembling hand, cold and soft. Small almost.

" But not in the way that I want you too. " Her hand slipped from his.

He realized in that moment. Alastor placed his hand on her cheek, cold and wet from her tears. He ran his thumb across the track, erasing it. He didn't like the sight of it at all. He enjoyed the sparkle in her eye when he told her a silly joke or when the two of them danced the night away. He took a small breath and he looked into those tear riddled eyes.

He had been hurting her. Without meaning to. Or realizing. She had been keeping him in the dark for decades. Hurting in silence for the sake of him.

" Y/N.... You fancied me?"

[fuctacles]

Eddie, begrudgingly: Dustin's older brother is kinda fine :/

I had a craving for best friend's older brother AU so I wrote some but it's not my forte I'm out of ideas so that might be it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Edit: jokes on me I guess [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV] [Part V] | #the hendersons

Eddie was about to knock on his freshman friend’s door when there was a loud commotion on the other side and the door opened by itself. A guy, probably around his age, nearly ran into him in his haste to leave the house. He startled, taking Eddie in. And then taking a double take, the way Eddie was used to people doing at the sight of him.

“Who are you?” the guy asked, scrunching his nose and not meeting Eddie’s eyes.

He felt his hackles rise, venom building in his throat and ready to spit. He wasn’t expecting this on a Saturday on his friend’s doorstep, but he guessed this was the kind of town where you just couldn’t wear your battle vest in peace anywhere. His upper lip twitched ready to form a snarl, when suddenly the guy's features softened, a spark of recognition lighting up his eyes.

“Wait. Let me guess. Eddie?”

Eddie faltered, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. He frowned.

“Yeah?”

The guy's face warmed up with a smile, and Eddie was not ready for that kind of emotional rollercoaster this early in the morning.

“Dustin’s stories do not do you justice,” he says for some reason, eyeing him again. Eddie wants to shrivel up and hide. What the fuck was happening. “He’s waiting for you in the kitchen,” he said, stepping to the side to invite him in. “I have to go to work, so you two be good, okay?” he says before waving a cheery goodbye and closing the door, disappearing just as abruptly as he showed up in front of Eddie. The inside of the house suddenly seemed dull.

Another ray of sunshine peeked from the kitchen, toothy grin and hazelnut curls.

“So you’ve met Steve!” Dustin grinned in place of a greeting.

Eddie gawked at him.

“That,” he pointed at the closed door. The sound of a car leaving the curb tickled his ears. “Was Steve?!”

“The adopted brother Steve? The Star Wars fan Steve? The badass older brother Steve?”

“Yes, all that,” Dustin nodded enthusiastically.

“I thought he was, like, 16!” Eddie flailed and it sounded like a petulant whine even to his ears. He winced.

Dustin frowned at him like he was being stupid. Eddie didn’t like that gaze, but unfortunately at this point, he was getting used to it. His younger friend leaned on the kitchen door frame watching Eddie toe off his shoes.

“He’s 19. What gave you that impression?”

Eddie frowned at his scuffed Reeboks. He nudged them with his toe to line up, looking for an answer.

“The adopted part, I think? He’s almost an adult, who adopts that old?”

He knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as he said it. He looked up at Dustin, whose face twisted uncomfortably.

“Shit, sorry man. I didn’t mean-”

Dusting clicked his tongue impatiently, interrupting him.

“It’s fine. This is an unconventional arrangement,” he said in that way when you heard something repeatedly. “I can tell you more, but after we make that character sheet, okay?”

Eddie nodded, eager to abandon his social faux pas. The Henderson’s were an unconventional unit, and that’s what he loved about them, at least from the stories Dustin shared. The guy was a little freak, just like Eddie, so it checked out his family was just as unconventional. So was Eddie’s after all.

The parallels made him warm up inside, the familiar need to protect his younger friends flaring up.

“Deal,” he nodded, following his friend inside the kitchen, where notebooks and DnD manuals already littered the table.

A couple of hours, two coffees and an unsolved argument about the intricacies of multiclassing later, they decided to take a break and Eddie could finally feast his eyes on the family photos on display. He stood in front of the newest one standing front and centre on the mantle. Steve was smiling shyly to the camera while Claudia Henderson had her arms around his shoulders and Dustin was grinning wide from his other side, hair ruffled by the older boy's hand.

“How long he has been living here?”

Dustin’s head popped out of the kitchen where he was rummaging for snacks.

“About a year. Remember the Starcourt fire?”

“Yeah?” Eddie frowned, taken aback by the seemingly unrelated question.

“Well, he’s been there and-” the boy frowned, fully stepping into the living room and crossing his arms. “Shit, Mom says I shouldn’t be babbling it around. That it’s Steve's story to tell.”

Eddie hummed, cocking his head.

“Your mom is very smart.”

Dustin unwrapped his arms, clenching his hands together.

“I guess I could tell you I mean who are you gonna tell? You just-”

Eddie raised both his hands, stopping him.

“Dude, he interrupted with all the disapproval his drug dealing nonconformist self could muster. “She’s right and that would be breaking your brother’s trust.”

“Uh. Yeah,” Dustin gulped, looking adequately ashamed at proposing the idea. “You’re right., he nodded.

This lasted about half a second because nobody could stop Henderson from being an egocentric know-it-all and since he was wrong he was now going to overcompensate for it. Of that, Eddie could be sure.

“We can go to his workplace and you could ask him!”

Eddie raised his hands again.

“Hold your horses Henderson, we’re not harassing your brother at work.” The boy was actually pouting, the little shit. “I am not that determined to hear it. I’ll just catch him another time I visit.”

That was the wrong thing to say because he wasn’t planning on being a recurring guest initially. Or maybe it was the right thing to say since Dustin positively beamed at the implication.

Maybe it was because the kid’s presence has been a good influence on him as well.

Also, while the story of Steve’s adoption didn’t seem that interesting before, the idea of a mall fire being somehow involved raised questions that were now itching the back of Eddie’s tongue. He had to ask them at some point.

*

“There’s this guy,” Eddie starts one day during lunch break. 

“Oh-ho,” Gareth murmurs with disdain, the crumbs from his sandwich falling from his lips.

“Not like that,” Eddie glowered at him, slapping against his arm. Even though it was kinda like that. “He’s picking up Henderson after Hellfire today and if we run into him, I want you guys to be civil.”

“We’re always civil,” Jeff frowns at Eddie’s backhanded accusations.

“Yeah, especially when you guys are mooning after Mrs. Wheeler.”

The comment raised a wave of loud protests from his friends.

“I am just saying-”

“You’re just saying that guy is hot and we shouldn’t ogle him?” Gareth, the worst friend he has, raised his eyebrow.

“No, I’m just-”

“You calling dibs, Munson?” John the Traitor, the Backstabber, joined in. Johned in, if you will.

‘No!” Eddie protested, maybe a little too loud. A couple of heads turned but when they saw the ruckus was coming from the freaks table, they quickly lost interest. “He’s the worst. A hunk of jock with stupid hair but!” He rose a finger. “He’s Henderson’s family. And what do we do with family members in Hellfire?”

“Lure in.”

“Lull into a fake sense of security.”

“Cast charm person.”

“Exactly,” he smirked, pointing his finger at each of them in approval. “This case is no different.”

“It feels different,” Gareth murmured under his breath, earning himself another smack on the shoulder.

*

Eddie wrapped up the session and was giving out experience points to his players when a soft knock interrupted his counting. He frowned at the door.

“Speak ‘friend’ and enter!” he hollered to his sheep’s utter glee. He grinned at them.

Dead silence was all the response he got, so he assumed whatever normie was bugging them got discouraged. But then, Henderson was turning around in his seat, yelling at the door.

“It’s from Lord of the Rings! You know this one!”

There was a shuffle on the other side where apparently, Steve came already to pick up his brother.

“Oh! Um… Melon? Was that it?”

“You may enter!” Eddie commanded with a grin straining at his cheeks. Dustin was doing a good job educating his jock brother, apparently. 

The guy pushed the door open, taking in the table full of teenagers. He waved hesitantly.

“You guys finishing up?”

“I’m handing out points, we need just a few minutes,” Eddie waved his hand. “And it’s Mellon.”

Steve frowned.

“That’s what I said.”

“Sure you did,” Eddie cocked his head condescendingly, ignoring the eyes of Corroded Coffin members staring at him. “Now sit and wait,” he gratuitously offered, snapping his fingers and pointing at a nearby bench, like Henderson’s older brother was some kind of dog.

To his surprise, he nodded shortly and obeyed, sitting down and watching him expectantly. Eddie took it as his cue to proceed. He coughed to gather his sheep's attention and went back to his meticulous calculations.

*

“That didn’t look like Charm Person to me,” Gareth hissed as soon as the younger members of Hellfire had left.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows, throwing him a look while he stuffed his campaign notes into his bag.

“You told us to be nice, but you ordered him around like he was one of the kids,” Jeff pointed out, arms crossing.

“I did not”

“You totally did.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he straightened up.

“What is this? Mutiny? Among my own kin? Ungrateful little herd I had nurtured on my own breast-”

He was interrupted by a cacophony of grossed out noises.

“Spare us the imagery, please.”

Eddie huffed indignantly, closing his bag.

“Then quit yapping. It was a singular lapse of judgement on my part,” he said with finality, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Without looking back, he walked off, hand raised in a goodbye, “Toodles, bitches.”

And he was gone.

Gareth sighed.

“Man, I love Eddie, but sometimes…” John cut himself off, shaking his head. 

“Yeah.”

*

Eddie’s been on the fence about it for some time now. But the time was ticking and he did say more than once that ‘86 was gonna be his year, so maybe it was time to pocket his ego and make some calls.

Some very, very humiliating calls.

Sighing deeply he imagined himself going to the woods and digging up a deep hole. There he imaginary buried his pride, made a fancy map to find it later, hopefully in time for his graduation, and finally dragged himself back home and in front of his phone. Next to it, he tacked on a list of numbers of all his newest sheepies in case of emergencies. Like Hellfire scheduling.

He sighed once more, slumping dramatically before dialling the first of the numbers. As he listened to the dial tone, he squared his shoulders, decided a more confident pose was in order. He was now a man of action, taking his fate in his own hands. His pride was buried deeply in the darkest corners of the forest and only a courageous-

“Har- Henderson residence, this is Steve speaking.”

Eddie’s mind went blank, completely thrown off. Who was he calling again? What for?

“Hello?”

“Is this how you pick up the phone? Did I get the wrong house? Is this the British Queen?”

“... Eddie? Is that you?”

Busted.

“What gave me away?”

“Ah, only the dramatic nonsensical ramblings.” Steve answered, amusement in his voice. 

“Thank you, I pride myself in those.” No pride! Pride is buried deep in the putrid soil of a forgotten battlefield! “But I’m here for the superior Henderson, please and thank you.” Ah yes, the Charm Person again. Somebody could think Eddie buried his Charisma along with the pride.

“Sorry, Claudia is at work right now.”

Eddie scrunched his nose, confused, the gleeful tilt to the voice in his ear irking him. Then he remembered the mom. A staple in most households.

“Har, har, Steven. The smart one.”

“Please never call him that to his face,” the man said with a resigned sigh.

“There wouldn’t be enough space in the room for both our egos if I did.”

Steve laughed then, softly and genuinely, before calling out for his younger brother.

After a loud rattle, Dustin’s lispy voice finally reached Eddie’s trailer.

“What's up?”  

The man braced himself for what he was about to request.

“I need your help with an assignment.”

*

The door opened before he could even knock. Again.

“I thought I told you not to inflate his ego.”

“No, you told me not to call him smart. It is merely a by-product of my desperate attempts at graduating,” Eddie shrugged matter-of-factly. “Besides, I don’t respond to the likes of you.” He punctuated his words by seizing the guy up before brushing past him inside the Henderson’s house.

“The likes of- Excuse me?!”

Eddie was skipping towards Dustin’s room.

“Hey big guy I’m here for my tutoring!” he announced himself, standing in the open door to his friend’s room, who quickly beckons him inside. Steve’s heavy steps follow and soon he’s the one standing in the door frame, arms crossed, while Eddie bounces on Dustin’s bed.

“What do you mean the likes of me?” he asks, almost pouting. 

“Mainstream,” offered Dustin, shuffling through stuff on his desk.

“Jocks,” added Eddie, still bouncing with glee, hair following up and down.

“Normies.”

“Pop listeners.”

“Mom friends.”

“Conformists.”

“Okay, I get it!” Steve threw his hands in the air, stopping the list that probably wouldn’t come to an end otherwise. “You’re the cool guys, have fun having your cool stuff,” he huffed angrily, grabbing the doorknob. Before he closed the door he threw one seething glance at Dustin. “Do not. Ask me for snacks,” he hissed before slamming the door shut.

Eddie flipped back on the bed, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Man, your brother is so easy to rile up,” he chuckled gleefully.

“Right?! He’s so bitchy,” Dusting turned around towards him, signature smile in place. Eddie hollered.

“He is!”

Alas, a slap of palms interrupted his delightful trashing around.

“I believe we have some physics to cover?”

Eddie groaned. Right. He didn’t come here to bother the older Henderson. Booo.

[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]

[tinygarbage]

December

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x f!reader

word count: 2.1k

summary: simon has been in a foul mood all of december and you think he hates you

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, implied trauma, american reader lol, mentions of alcohol (reader is slightly buzzed), implications of familial trauma, no use of y/n, no physical description, not edited fully bc i am last minute on this (again), military inaccuracies bc im just a silly girl on a silly app :p, lmk if I missed anything :)

au: lol there’s not really a plot to this but i plan on building on this little friendship so if u like it lmk :) just something silly i wrote bc the holidays are a little tough for me :)

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹

The two sargents and the captain of the one-four-one find themselves tasked with a new objective when December rolls around. Keep you from being alone with Ghost. Even stretching far enough to keep you away from situations that might cause an outburst from the broad Brit.

It all started one morning in the kitchen. You and Soap having your morning coffee. You being American and him being Scottish, you two were the outcasts. The only coffee drinkers.

      "We outta finish these quickly." Soap speaks, looking over a report meant to be turned into Price by noon.

     "Why's that?" You ask, completely oblivious to why you have to gulp down your steaming mug of coffee so early in the morning.

      "LT," Soap says as if it's an obvious thing.

      "What about him? He deals with it every other morning." You say with a shrug, sitting up in your chair as your boots are tied perfectly tight. Leaving it impossible for the laces to come undone during training.

       Soap looks at you as you take your first sip, wincing at how hot it was. You glance back at him, feeling his wide eyed stare. "What?" You ask, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.

     "You're new. That's right." Soap says, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

      "Not that new. I've been here for 10 months already." You say defensively. You had just escaped their teasing nicknames and comments about how green you were. To the team, that was. Which, to be clear, never messed with their trust for your skill. They knew you were an important asset to the team. But what's friendship without a little teasing?

      "Yeah, but you're new to LT and December." Soap chuckles, gulping more of his coffee.

       "It's just another month," you say with a shrug.

      "Just finish your coffee, hen." Soap says, shaking his head as he finishes his own up. Rinsing it and the pot out in the sink.

The rest of the month is similar. The team still shielding you from Ghost. You see him obviously. While on the training grounds, during morning roll call, passing through the common room. But you hardly talk to him. Instead, overhearing stories about his mood towards new recruits being much worse than normal. Which was astonishing to hear because his mood towards them was typically foul.

You knew why the team was creating a barrier as soon as you heard about his mood. It's because to Ghost, you're just a new recruit. No matter how many times you cover him on a mission, or prove yourself and your strength time and time again. You're green. A baby deer stumbling to walk. And it drives him nuts. He constantly ignores your looks of admiration. Brushing aside your words of praise as you hold out your fist for a fist bump. A tradition strong among the rest of the guys and you.

Instead, he gives you disapproving stares. Degrading lectures in front of the new recruits when your golden retriever attitude gets too bubbly. Scoffs when you suggest strategies or try and help during mission briefings. Shoving shoulders when you stand in his way. And your least favorite, the mumbling. Little remarks and insults spoken under his breath. Hardly hidden from behind the mask. His harsh words still fall on your exceptional hearing, causing your nostrils to flare as you see red.

You'd spent nearly 10 months trying to prove yourself to him. And you nearly got him. His walls slowly coming down, brick by brick. He'd start making small jokes about the new recruits to you when partnered together. Pat your back firmly after a good shot. Acknowledge your presence when you both were in the kitchen or the common area.

Until bloody December rolls around. Again, you're thankful to the team for shielding you from his horrendous mood. But you're frustrated that you can't keep trying to weasel your way into getting him to like you. That all of your efforts have been thrown away and you'd have to restart as soon as you have full access to his side again.

It isn't until the end of December that you're alone with him for the first time in a month. It's late, just past midnight. He's sitting in the common room, a steaming cup of tea in front of him. You walk in late from a night out at the pub after gaining Price's approval to go out. You were just catching up with a couple friends who were studying abroad. Your heart feeling twice it's size after seeing a little piece of home.

It's dark. The only thing lighting up the room is the glow of his phone screen and the light from the door outside the common room. Which you held open as you stared at him like a deer in headlights. Not knowing what to say. Or do.

Slowly, you close the door. Making your way across the common room slowly. Your converse tapping the tile of the floor with each step. Vision slightly blurred from the pints you indulged in. You're almost past him, completely avoiding eye contact as you quietly walk past the couch he's spread out on.

"It's a bit late," He speaks up. His deep, gruff voice sending a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps forming on your skins despite your warm hoodie and worn jeans.

"Captain gave me a pass. For the Holidays." You speak carefully, eyes finally meeting his form in the dark.

The pale moonlight from the window across from him gives her a better view. His phone screen lighting up his face. He's wearing a black surgical mask, covering the lower half of his face. A black hoodie covers his upper half, the hood up to create a perfect shadow over what the mask wasn't covering. The only thing really visible to the eye was his eyes. His dark chocolate irises that scan over your casual appearance. Taking in the sight of you outside of uniform or athletic clothes. Instead seeing you in the dark jeans that hung from your hips. Hoodie and jacket baggy on your upper half.

      You look past him, seeing the time on the clock above the door way. The green electronic letters reading 00:13. It's now officially Christmas. Your eyes shift back to him, catching his intense stare. The air seems to run cold as he glared, his demeanor clearly bothered by your existence. You can't stop the small shiver that runs down your spine as you stare back. Blinking slowly as you try and keep your brain working.

     "Merry Christmas, Riley." You finally say, eyes dropping down to your scuffed converse.

     His head turns and he checks the clock. He turns back, "Merry Christmas." He says. His voice sounds...different. Tired? No...defeated...maybe.

      You smile politely, your sneaker twisting against the tile of the common room. You should walk away. Leave him to his own thoughts. Get into bed and sleep off the couple pints you threw down with friends. But you don't. Instead you stand awkwardly near the exit of the common rooms. Your brain busy with contradicting thoughts. Say something. Go to bed. Ask him about his mood. Shut up and go to bed. Sit next to him. Scream at him for always being an asshole. But you do nothing. Standing as still as a statue. Not daring to move, your muscles completely stone.

      "Don't break yourself, kid." He retorts, a small chuckle at his own humor.

      "Huh?" You ask absentmindedly, before it clicks in your head that you were standing still like an idiot. Thinking so loudly that Russia was probably disturbed. You awkwardly blurt out a response, "Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

     He raises a brow. Clearly unimpressed with your inability to act normal around him. "You want to say something?"

     "It's late," you say sheepishly, "Why are you still up?"

      His eyes drop down to his tea. You watch as he shifts slightly, revealing more of himself in the moonlight. He's wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, fitting tight against his thighs as he manspreads on the leather couch. Taking up space with his huge, muscular body.

      "Cant sleep." He says shortly. In his typical, gruff manner.

      "Something keeping you up?" You ask without thinking.

     You brace yourself for a snotty comment, or a silent glare as he pushes past you. Instead, you hear a huff of laughter. Or what was supposed to be laughter. You can never tell with the Lieutenant. "Isn't it always something?"

     "In our line of work, typically," You shrug, fingers tingling in the pockets of your jacket. "Do you," you pause, clearing your throat to sound more sure of yourself, "Do you need to talk about it?"

      His eyes meet yours. He says nothing for a few seconds. Letting your words hang in the air. "I just don't fancy the holidays."

     You nod, somehow smart enough in your tipsy state to realize exactly what he meant. It was more than the military. It was his life. "I get it." You say softly, "Do you mind if I sit with you? I need to gather myself before I try and stay quiet."

    "Go ahead.”

    Easier than you thought. You cross the common room carefully, sitting at the other end of the love seat. Immediately drawing your knees into your chest. Your arms wrap around your legs as you press them into your chest. Gaze falling to the window to see the brick building across the way. You're not exactly sure what to say, drawing in controlled breaths as you sit in silence. Fighting the urge to ask a million and one questions as your buzzed brain runs wild.

    "You've been avoiding me." He says suddenly. Ripping through the silence.

      You turn your head, chewing the inside of your cheek as you look at him. From this angle, you see the rest of his face. His dark scar poking through the surgical mask. His other scar curved above his thick eyebrow. His usual eye black is nowhere to be seen. Just dark circles formed under his eyes from exhaustion.  His dark eyes darting around. He seems..uneasy. Which is unlike him.

     "I haven't been," you say quickly. Both of you let the lie sit for a second before you eventually come clean. His intense eyes sending you straight into confession mode. "Ok, maybe I have been."

     "Why?"

     "Aren't you happy I'm not up your ass anymore?" You can't help but ask.

     "At first."

    "What changed?"

    "Maybe I don't mind having you around," he shrugs.

       You stare at him for a minute. Waiting for him to say he's just playing, and actually wants you to get out of his face. But the words never come. Instead, you look at the man next to you. His usual determined expression is no where to be seen. Replaced with a sheepish gaze as his eyes dart around everywhere but on you. He wasn't joking around. He liked your company.

      "The guys said to keep my distance," you reply. Figuring there was no reason to lie about it.

      "Because December." He finishes.

      "Pretty much," you say with a shaky exhale. Not exactly fond of the route this good take.

       "You didn't have too. I wouldn't have snapped at you," he says, voice soft. "I just don't do well around the holidays."

       "You don't have to explain yourself." You reply with an empathetic tone. "I'm sorry for avoiding you."

        He turns to you, finally making eye contact with you. Shifting slightly under your gaze. "Thank you."

       You smile, "You don't need to thank me. We all have our own shit. Just know I've got your back if you ever need me."

     His eyes soften in the moonlight, "And I've got yours."

    You smile, turning your head back forward. Knowing that if you continue to look at him you'll lose the small sense of control over your buzzed emotions. As you sit in a comfortable silence, you quickly realize you can't stay in the room any longer. His lingering cologne and his kind words creating a pool of fluttering butterflies in a cage. Locked right between your ribs.

    Carefully, you drop your legs. Your converse plant on the ground and you push yourself up, the room shaking as you regain full balance. With your hands stuffed back into your pockets, you walk towards the hallway filled with the small rooms the team occupies. Before you leave, you turn on your heel. Staring at him for a second as you try and form words. A lump of complicated feelings lodged in your throat. So instead of saying anything of importance. Or stating why you are fleeing the scene at a rapid pace after he said his first genuine non-work related thing. You give him a tight lipped smile.

    "Merry Christmas, Simon."

    "Merry Christmas, kid."

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹

part two :)

there u are :)) it’s small and uneventful but sometimes i really enjoy writing small moments like these :)

thank u for reading <3 happy holidays !

[bundoesnotcompete]

This feels rushed to me but its been rotting away in my drafts and i at least wanted to finish it.

Reader is an adeptus and god. Goes from Ancient Liyue to Current day.

Spelling and wording errors to be expected i wrote this on mobile

Summary: Snippets of history between you and your husband. From enemies to lovers.

"General Mushen! The tales of the ruling god of Kunlun and Morax are numerous. From sworn enemies to close allies, there are many tales I could choose to tell." The storyteller began as he caught the attention of the crowd of him. The teahouse was packed full of both locals and tourists, all wanting to hear tales of the Immovable General Mushen.

The city was beginning festivites to celebrate the union of Kunlun Mountains of the Liyue region. It was one of the largest festivals in all of Liyue. The storyteller began to speak and the crowd was drawn in closer. A brown haired man with Amber eyes watched and listened intently, ignoring his companions grumbling.

"The story I will tell is of the beginnings of the union of Ancient Liyue and Kunlun."

---------

As the guardian diety of the Kunlan mountains, you were highly territorial. No one stepped onto your land that wasn't allowed. The mountain's forestry would be hostile and moving through the mountains would be made near impossible. Humans and adepti alike were careful not to anger or disturb you. Angering a dragon adeptus often ended poorly, especially one of your power. In return, you protected those lesser than you. They were apart of your territory, afterall.

When what would become known as the Archon Wars began, many gods thought that they could take your mountains. You proved then wrong by killing all who intended to take what was yours.

The massacre of a village outside had also enraged both you and the rest of your people. While it had been outside off your territory, many adeptus and humans alike had family there. In a few short days, the army of Kunlun was ruthlessly being trained.

Though skirmashes were becoming rarer these days, you told your armies to remain alert. The cold war you were having with your southerly neighbor, Rex Lapis, was quickly turning hot. Other gods were also fanning the flames for a war between you two.

"My Lord." A bird like adeptus kneeled at your feet, her head hung low. Blood coated her armor and she looked hurried. Considering she came through your window, you were inclined to believe something major was happening. "Rex Lapis's forces are being held at the base of Ying Mountain. They believe us to have attacked them and now they are mounting for a fully fledged war." She flinched as the tea cup you held in you clawed hand shattered.

"General Guan Yu is holding the lines."

"Tell Fuxi to prepare his forces." You commanded harshly, your temper flaring at the audacity of Rex Lapis. "Inform all generals to defend their territories. They will deal with it from there. Go. Now." The growl of your dismissal had the adeptus shifting and fleeing to do as ordered.

For the next forty years, the conflict that followed was intense and bloody. Your forces were quick to push the enemy back, but stalemate had occured. Along with that, no matter how many times you bloodied and nearly killed each other, neither you or Rex Lapis was willing to give up. The war was taking a war on both forces and other gods were beginning to prey upon that fact.

It was what lead you here, making a contract with your sworn enemy. Neither of you were pleased with each other's presence, and it was causing tensions. Both sides held deep disliking for each other.

The adeptus in front of you scowled. His companion next to him was smiling. Amber eyes drilled into you and you glared back. Your tail was thumping angrily on the ground behind you. The air between you two was thick enough to cut.

Both sides forces stood behind their leaders. Adeptus and humans mixed together in the crowds.

"Do not think of this as a permenant agreement Rex Lapis." You grounded out. "We both are wasting resources that could be used to quash other gods. Once it is just us two we will go back to trying to kill eachother. Until then this contract will keep us and our forces bound to help eachother in our times of need. Whether that be resources or war." The scrolls in front of you on the table flapped gently in the breeze. Both of you had signed the contract, and breaking it would damn either of you.

Thus, the first contracts binding Liyue and the Kunlan mountains together were made. After nearly fourty years of conflict, your war with your enemy was ended bitterly.

The contracts would be used throughly over the next few hundred years and tensions would die down as you begrudingly accepted your neighbor. Though the whole throwing rocks at you to be an annoyance was going to have to stop, else you might restart the war on your neighbor.

"Prehaps you are getting old." A swift hit to Rex Lapis's gut had him heaving as you two sparred one afternoon. The man smiled up at you from his spot on the ground. "Now dear friend, you know i don't mean that-" You kicked him across the field.

"I am not your friend you fiend." You growled as you approached him. He got up from the ground and was laughing. It was one of the few moments you got to see him truly happy. Ignoring the tightening in your chest, you approached him with the malicious intent to wipe that pretty smile of his face. He held his hands up as you tried to grab his arms.

"I surrender, this time." He spoke, smile on full display. You would be a liar if you said he wasn't handsome and fun to be around, but he was your sworn arch-enemy. You were not having a crush on him. You could not allow yourself to have such feelings no matter how much you generals told you that you could.

"Fine." You snapped out, pretending to not be a bit saddening by the surrender. It was no fun when he willingly gave up. "Now what?"

"Tea?" You grumbled at his response but agreed. The tea he often prepared was the kind you prefered, so you would allow it.

The memory would comfort you in the next years as conflict wore down on you. You ignored the sadness of not being by his side. Your temper mellowed by the end of Archon Wars. No longer did you scare and snap your companions and allies often. The draconic temper settled with your age and so did his.

"Celestia has declared me the archon of our lands." He spoke to you one day and you both layed on warm rocks in your mountain."I feel i am being unfair by claiming your land as mine to rule." A growl came from you. "They will not have it and will only see our territories as one. I am unsure of how to approach this dilemma. It is unfair to you."

You rumbled as you shifted to face him.

"What? I do not care that they see you as the ruler, you know your place and i know mine. You know this is my land." You responded to your friend. He hummed, tucking his paws under him and becoming vaguely bread shaped.

"Then how about a new contract to replace the old one. A union of our lands, but recognizing that they are independent of eachother. United but two diffrent states. We can even marry our human royalty to cement it."

You turned you head to him. "Why? Wouldn't it just be easier to marry eachother. Humans are useless and do not live long. They'd just forget it and ruin it anyway."

"Marry eachother?!" His surprised cry was ignored as you continued.

"No adeptus of mine holds high authority over the lands like i do. My generals already have lovers and my messanger will not marry anyone. Humans are too weak to hold the burden of such a contract. As far as I am aware no other holds a high power like you so that rules everyone out on your side too."

You stared at your companion's shocked face. A contract such as this was a heavy burden you did not want to place upon any in your land. You knew that you would honor the contract and trusted that he would too. Plus, with how much time you two spent together you were practically married anyway.

You watched the dragon in front of you compose himself.

"I do see your point. Knowing that the contract would be honored for as long as we live is a good idea." Morax began, shifting slightly on the rock. "Having such a comfort would be nice. But, this sort of thing is not something to be taken lightly. We would need to discuss it further."

Over the next weeks you two would discuss the contract and all that would be in it. Eternal companionship was something that was not taken lightly. Along with that came the binding vow were it would only break upon one's death.

Morax did not mind the marriage proposal and seemed rather taken to the idea. You two spent plently of time together and while not having a courting period would be strange, it wasn't unheard of. He liked you greatly anyway so why not make a realtionship offical.

So, in the beginning of fall, the Mountainous region of Kunlun and Liyue were offically bound together by marriage of its two gods. The celebration would then be celebrated around that time from then on. Even as humans turned the history into myths, you and Morax did not forget your vows.

Over time you and Morax grew to be truly in love with one another. While the jump to marriage was off putting at first, the friendship had turned to a deep affection and love that seemed to age like fine wine.

Even as wars and storms raged on, you never broke your vow and stayed by your husband's side. Even your spats and fights did not linger for long. Disagreements came and went. Though you did not like that you husband was practically a slave to Celestia's will, they did not call him often so you said nothing.

"Retirement?" You repeated one day during a sun bathing session on a rock. The brown and amber dragon in front of you nodded.

"My people seem to be able to handle themselves against threats. Of course my adepti will be there to help them, but they are largely self sustaining now. I see no reason why I shouldn't be able to retire and spend more time with you." He stated, stretching out on the large rock beneath him.

"It is a plan not fully though out so it will be some time before i will. We could live among the humans if you want. I know you enjoy spending time eating human food and enjoying human activites. Prehaps even you can retire."

So, once he got a plan into place you agreed on his retirement. Soon he was able to get a job with humans and establish a life among them. You followed him and while you did not appear fully human like he did, you did walk among the people.

The people of Liyue knew you two as a human-adepti couple and some folk often joked that you aruged like an old married couple. Even Hu Tao took notice and joked about it. Though, you suspected she knew her consultant's true identity but she said nothing so you left it at that.

After the ordeal with Osial and Morax's retirement, you and your lover sat upon the cliff which your first battle with him took place.

"So, now what will you do with your free time? You know we cannot be together as often as we used to be." You spoke laying your head on his shoulder.

"Well, I will spend as much time as I can with you and continue to watch my people from the sidelines." He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he spoke.

"The Celebration of Union will be happening soon. I say we spend time there first. I will live in the moment now that i am not worried about my people."

You hummed and smiled in repsonse to him.

"You sound like an old man, but that is an agreeable idea." You laughed. Yes, this retirement was going to be wonderful. You could already see it.

-----

"Though Morax has passed, the Kunlun mountains and their god still honor the contract." You watched as the storyteller rambled on. The story he was telling was not entirely accurate.

You turned you head to you lover and he smiled at you.

"Do not blame them. They did not live the events. It is difficult to keep the truth when they only hear stories passed on from parents." He spoke softly to you before standing up. "It appears the story is ending, let's go try that food stand you wanted." You perked up and stood up with him.

As you both walked to the food stand, you could only feel happiness. Time spent together brought you joy.

Prehaps you should retire to be with your husband?

[chu16a-blog]

Benji Dunn X Reader - Enemy to Lover (Part 4/6)

Pairing: Benji Dunn x Reader

This is chapter 4/6. I already wrote everything, so don't worry, it's a finished fic ;) I publish one chapter per day.

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

CHAPTER 4: THE RUSSIAN TRAP

Since Geneva, everything had spiralled.

You’d lost the briefcase , the key to a new life, a clean slate. That had been your last real shot at disappearing for good. Now, scraping the bottom of the barrel, you found yourself in the one place you swore you’d never return to: Russia.

Desperation brought you here. The plan was simple, a discreet meet, a quiet deal with a contact who claimed they could get you new papers, fresh identity, a second chance.

But nothing ever stayed simple for long.

The exchange had barely begun when it all unraveled. A flicker of movement in the shadows, a breath too sharp, you spotted him, Benji. And then chaos.

Gunfire echoed through the abandoned gulag’s crumbling corridors as chaos erupted. You slipped away into the shadows, but Benji wasn’t so lucky.

Separated from Ethan and Luther during the chase, Benji took a wrong turn into a deserted courtyard. The walls closed in. Heavy footsteps approached from all sides.

Before he could react, rough hands grabbed him, dragging him into the darkness.

Benji jerked awake, his body stiff and restrained. Rough leather straps bit into his wrists as he found himself slumped in a rusty metal chair. Overhead, harsh lights hummed and flickered, casting a cold, unforgiving glare. On a nearby metal table, an array of menacing tools, pliers, needles, sharp knives, lay ready.

His heart hammered against his ribs. Okay, stay calm. You’ve handled worse. No… not this. Not this one.

The heavy door groaned open, and a towering Russian brute stepped inside, his eyes cold and unyielding.

Benji swallowed hard, voice trembling but trying to sound casual. “Hey—hey, maybe we could talk this out? Use words? Friendly chat, yeah?”

The man’s lips curled into a cruel smile as he picked up a glinting blade from the table.

Benji’s throat tightened.

As you were chased by at least five Russian mafia members armed to the teeth, you decided it was a good time to hide for a while, for you know, … Let the situation de-escalate.

You burst through the door, slamming it so hard it rattled the walls. Pressing your back against it. Catching your breath, you scanned the room and locked eyes with Benji; your look was all sharp annoyance, like really? Again?

Benji’s wide eyes met yours, a mix of relief and helplessness. No words, just that tense, exasperated silence.

Without hesitation, you turned and moved on the Russian guard. The fight was quick and brutal. The guard collapsed, unconscious.

You glanced back at Benji, expression unchanged, annoyed, but focused. If I managed to get away with that briefcase in Geneva, I wouldn’t be here. Guest whose fault is that, uh.

You crossed your arms, brows furrowed, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Still want to capture me?”

His voice cracked. “A little help?”

You leaned in, hands resting on the armrests of his chair, your stare sharp and unreadable. Why is he kind of cute when he’s nervous? you caught yourself thinking, then immediately shoved the thought aside. Focus. He’s the enemy. Sort of. Probably.

“Funny,” you said, voice low and laced with dry humor, “You chase me across continents, mess up my meet, get captured by Russians… and I’m still the one who has to save you.”

A smirk played on your lips as you watched the panic flare in his eyes, and honestly, it was kind of funny. You’d never admit it, but there was something about this jittery guy that was… interesting. Maybe even a little endearing.

Benji’s mind spun wildly. The Russians could come crashing in any second. Should I beg her? Can I even trust her? She’s the one I’m supposed to be after. Pride says no; survival screams yes.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Look, if this is revenge, could you… I don’t know… not?”

You raised a brow, amused by his obvious distress. “You’re really stressed, huh?”

He nodded quickly, cheeks flushing bright red. “Yes.”

“First time tied up in a torture room?” you teased, voice softening, but your eyes never leaving his.

“Yes.”

“Scared of me?”

He hesitated, then whispered, “…a bit.”

You leaned closer. “Good. You should be.”

His cheeks flushed.

You let your fingers trail slowly over the leather strap binding his wrist to the chair. "Tell me, why exactly should I free you? After all… you’re the one chasing me.”

Your voice dropped to a teasing whisper. “What’s your excuse?”

Benji swallowed hard, caught off guard. The question hung heavy in the tense air.

You leaned in even closer, a slow, wicked smile playing on your lips. “You don’t have an answer for that, huh?”

Benji swallowed hard, eyes darting everywhere but meeting yours.

You pulled out a small torture tool from the table, a knife, sleek and sharp, and played with it, deliberately close to him.

“Okay, fine,” you said, voice low and mocking. “What do I get in exchange, then?”

Benji’s breath hitched. He didn’t dare look at you, his gaze fixed on the cracked floor.

Behind you, the door banged loudly, the sound echoing off the walls. You barely flinched, completely ignoring it, as if the chaos outside didn’t concern you one bit.

Your eyes locked on his trembling form, amused and annoyed all at once.

Benji’s voice came out barely above a whisper, shaky and uncertain. “Please.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how simple and sincere it was.

A tiny, unexpected smile played on your lips. “…That was kind of adorable.”

Without another word, you sliced through his restraints with a practiced flick of your wrist, letting him rub his wrists free.

He hesitated, glancing around the dim room. “So... uh, do you know a way out?”

You stepped forward. “Lucky for you, I’m not exactly planning on sticking around here either.”

Together, you slipped through the shadows of the gulag, moving fast and low. You had no idea if he could keep up, but right now, he was the only ally you had.

[dead-dolphins]

You've become a very lazy writer. You used to write and post constantly but now we have to beg you for an update. It's really annoying girl. At this point you'll never be a true author if you keep like this.

i wasn’t even going to respond but you sent the same message THREE times in under thirty minutes so i’m guessing you were looking for engagement. well, here it is. everyone forgive me if i’m making a scene but congratulations to this person, you officially got on my last nerve.

in the past eight months, i almost lost my cat, who isn’t just a pet but my emotional support. i watched my grandfather go through a long and painful illness until he passed away. my autoimmune condition flared up badly because i wasn’t taking proper care of myself, and on top of that, i developed nutrient deficiencies from neglecting my diet while trying to keep up with life. i’m now severely anemic, seeing a hematologist, and spending a lot of money on specialized treatment just to stabilize my health.

during all of this, i’ve been receiving hate from anons just for writing the stories i love. also some people on twitter have been behaving in creepy and invasive ways too, practically stalking me and making me feel deeply uncomfortable. i didn’t say anything. i didn’t start drama. i stayed silent and kept to myself because that’s what i’ve always done. just try to survive and hope it goes away. out of sight, out of mind.

and now, after everything, people are calling me annoying because i haven’t updated? because i stepped back to take care of myself? REALLY?

maybe you didn’t know. and if that’s the case, fine, i get it. but just so it’s clear, IM NOT A MACHINE. IM NOT SOME EMOTIONLESS CONTENT GENERATOR. i’m a PERSON trying to hold things together, dealing with way more than i care to explain in detail. i’m a PERSON who has been through a lot in a short period and is tired. and, really, i don’t owe anyone a performance of my pain just to earn basic kindness.

if a fanfic update matters more to you than a real human being’s wellbeing, then maybe take a moment to think about what that says about you bc really. bc this tells me you have zero empathy and genuinely believe i owe you something just because i wrote a story. and the truth is, i don’t. i’m sorry if that disappoints you, but i don’t owe you anything. not even a little.

now this being said: i’m tired. please leave me alone. if you keep coming back on anon, you will be blocked. and by the way, i know you're a coward, like most of the hateful anons that end up in my inbox. but next time, try sending that same ask without hiding behind anon. i’d love to see just one of you be brave enough to stand behind your words, because in the four years i’ve been here, not a single one has.

[accio-sriracha]

Choosing isn't an option.

A quick Jegulus drabble I wrote while waiting to start work, enjoy <33

~~~♤~~~

Regulus stood, facing his boyfriend, anger flaring through him.

"Reg-" James started. He held up a hand,

"Don't. Please just don't."

"I'm sorry." James continued anyways, "You know I didn't mean it like that. I swear I never would have-"

"I don't know anything, James! I thought you would have understood! But you didn't. You yelled at me!"

"I know, and I am so sorry-"

"I just- I need some space right now, okay?" Reg whispered, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

James' breath hitched, he and Regulus never needed space from each other, they always worked things out by talking it through.

"Reg?" He whispered, his voice breaking.

He looked away, "Please just go."

James could feel his heart shattering, he didn't care to pick up the pieces, leaving them at his boyfriend's feet as he left the room.

"James?" Remus called when James walked right past them in the common room, "What's wrong?"

James didn't stop, he wasn't sure he could bring himself to put on a smile. He continued up the stairs and to their dorm. Footsteps followed quickly behind him.

"Prongs?" It was Peter's voice now, "Are you okay?"

He shook his head, curling up under his covers. Sirius immediatley climbed in next to him, wordlessly holding him.

"I fucked everything up." James whispered, "I'm sorry, Padfoot, I-" He broke off, a choked sob escaping him as he finally let himself cry.

Sirius shushed him, gently pulling his shoulder to turn him around, "You don't have to apologize, it's okay. We'll fix it. Whatever it is, we'll fix it." He murmured.

Remus sat on the foot of his bed, Peter on the floor beside him. Both of them watched as Sirius did his best to comfort James.

"It's Reg." He finally got the words out, "I- I fucked up with Regulus."

Sirius' eyes went wide for a second. James could see the hesitation on his face.

Regulus was his brother, his flesh and blood, the one Sirius had given everything up to protect his whole life. And James was his best friend, his chosen family, the one he'd left everything behind to stay with.

He couldn't chose between them. And James wouldn't let him.

"Please go find him." James whispered, "Make sure he's okay. I- I hurt him really bad."

"Did you-" He cleared his throat and sat up a little, "Did you hit him?"

James jumped up, "No! Merlin, no! You know I could never! I just- I yelled at him. It was stupid, I know that. It wasn't even a big deal, I shouldn't have gotten so upset, and I tried to apologize but-"

"Hey, it's okay." Sirius pulled him into another hug, "I know you'd never hit him, I just had to ask. We're gonna fix this, I promise."

James nodded, brushing away his tears with his sleeve.

"We'll stay here with him. Go find your brother." Remus told Sirius.

Sirius gave him one last squeeze before leaving the room. James turned to Remus and Peter after the door shut behind him.

"If we break up-" He started Peter cut him off,

"Don't even think like that, Prongs." He reached up to place a hand over his own, "You're going to be fine. You know that."

"Yeah, but if we do." He insisted, "What will happen with Pads?"

"Sirius will figure it out." Remus told him, "You know he isn't willing to lose either of you."

"Was this a mistake?" James looked at their hands, "I'm making him chose between me and his brother. What if we argue again? What happens when he has to chose a side?"

"It won't come to that." Peter insisted, "You and Regulus aren't like that. Neither of you would do that to him, no matter how angry you are at each other."

"And what happens if we do anyways?"

"We'll figure it out together." Remus smiled softly, "But I don't think one little fight is going to put your entire relationship at stake."

"Really?" James asked. Remus nodded,

"Really. Think of all the times you and Pads have faught over the years, and you still love him don't you?"

"Yeah but that's different." James muttered.

"Why?" Remus asked.

"Because he's like a brother to me. I know he's not going anywhere. I'm too scared to lose Reg, I-" He trailed off, shaking his head, "I love him more than anything. I can't imagine my world without him, you know? Like the moment he entered my life I just- I just knew. I was born to love him. I just wish I could explain to him how much he means to me. Sirius is my brother, it doesn't matter how many times I fuck up, he'll always be there at the end of the day, just like I would for him. But with Reg I'm so terrified of messing up I end up pushing him away. I got scared and lashed out and now I might lose him and-" He tried to slow his breathing, Peter squeezed his hand,

"Regulus is your family now, James. We can all see it. He's not going anywhere either."

James nodded, "Yeah... I really hope so. Thanks guys."

A noise from the doorway caught their attention and they all turned to find Regulus and Sirius standing there. Regulus was wiping tears from his eyes.

"He was coming up to find you." Sirius explained, "I ran into him in the hall just outside of the portrait hole."

"Reg." James whispered. He didn't know what to say, he had no idea how much Regulus had heard.

"Did you really mean it?" Regulus asked, "You love me?"

James nodded, "I meant every word."

They stared at each other for a moment longer before James stood, walking over to take both of his hands,

"I'm sorry, Regulus. You have no idea how much the idea of hurting you is killing me. I'm sorry I lashed out earlier... I was just- I was so scared of losing you. You aren't something I can ever live without." He took a deep breath, "I'm in love with you, Reg. With every piece of me. And I never want to let you go."

"I love you too." Regulus whispered, there was a soft smile on his face, "I'm sorry I pushed you away, and that I made you mad in the first place. I should have just talked it out with you Ike we always do."

James shook his head, "It's okay."

"We're okay, right?" Reg asked. James nodded,

"Yeah, we're okay."

He pulled Regulus into a tight embrace, glancing at Sirius over his shoulder,

"Promise me you'll never let me hurt him?" He whispered. Sirius nodded,

"I promise, Prongs."

"Good. Because choosing between us isn't an option."

Regulus laughed and tucked his face into James' neck, "Merlin, you'd be lucky if you figured out a way to shake us both off."

"I love you." James whispered again, kissing the top of Regulus' head. Regulus hummed,

"I love you too, Jamie."

~~~♤~~~

[sad-not-glad]

could you do a soft Dom Steve x sub bucky x soft Dom sick reader?

where bucky wakes up all subby and wants his mama. he goes to look for her and cannot find her, he starts to cry but then Steve comes around the corner and tells bucky that mama has the flu and is lying in bed to sleep. Bucky than ask Steve if he can help mama feel better. Steve says yes, they spend the day helping the reader get better.

Hey love!! I’m so sorry it took me a while to get back with you, but it’s finally here! I wrote reader’s illness so it could either be just a bad flu, or a chronic illness since I deal with those and flare ups can be terrible aha. The ending is a little rushed and not my favorite but… I’m too lazy to fix it. Hope you enjoy!!

Soft Dom Steve x Reader x Sub/Little Bucky

Warnings: Bucky is scared of being abandoned, but that doesn’t actually happen. Illness. Other than that, just a whole lot of fluff.

(Part of the Sharing is Caring AU)

Blinking awake, Bucky was met with the comforting space of the shared bedroom. Steve’s sketches were littered on the walls, a couple of your nicknacks spread around. Even his own collection of books, stacked neatly on the shelf in the corner.

He could feel it, already brewing inside. The need to be coddled and cared for. The need to be nothing more than a good boy who pleased his Mama and his Captain. But they weren’t here. The bed was empty, only slightly warm. A whine huffed up from his chest as he rolled over on his back- where were you both? You were supposed to be here, covering your baby boy in kisses and compliments.

Bucky shuffled onto his feet, taking his time collecting comfortable clothes before putting them on. One of Steve’s sweaters you had stolen and been wearing for a week, it smelled like both of you. His softest sweats, the fluffy socks with silly cartoon cats on them. You and he had almost convinced Steve that a cat would be a great addition to the little family you had made together.

All cozied up and surrounded by the scent of his lovers, he stepped out of the bedroom at last. The little apartment area was quiet, which was unusual. If you and Steve were awake first, it usually meant the team had come for breakfast. Meaning lots of noise. So the silence piqued his curiosity, urging him further down the hall. He checked the bathroom, empty. So was the office, and even the little storage closet that you loved so much. (Mostly because it’s where you hide all the good snacks)

You both must be in the kitchen, he thought to himself. He needed his Mama, he needed his Captain, he needed to be a good boy and receive praises from you both. That he was kind and sweet, how proud you were and how much you loved him. Bucky was already thinking of breakfast, he would probably find his Mama and Captain cooking something. Maybe he could help! He was good at mixing things, and stealing the yummy bits when nobody was watching him. He was a renowned fruit thief.

Much to his disappointment though, Bucky found the rest of the house empty. The living room, dining room, kitchen, he walked through them all four times. And the only trace of life he found was a discarded soup can next to the sink. The silence was deafening, but somehow the heartbeat in his ears was louder. It felt like the ground had been pulled from beneath him, falling down a spiral of anxiety.

Were you hurt?

Maybe there was a mission nobody told him about?

Had you two gone out for breakfast without telling him?

Did you leave him?

Was he… alone?

It was as if the walls were caving in, stomach cramping with terror and bile rising in his throat. Bucky hadn’t even realized he was crying until then, but once he did it was like the tears wouldn’t stop. He was gasping for air, vision blurry as he wiped desperately at his eyes. Maybe this was his fault somehow. He was needy and damaged, never a good combination in his own opinion. Wasn’t he doing better though? Clearly not if his Mama and Captain both had left him-

“Bucky?”

He spun around wildly, already reaching out for the voice of his Captain. Bucky was swept up against a firm chest and the cries let loose. Steve was gentle and patient, petting his hair and shushing his tears until the poor man was able to form coherent words again. “Thought…I thought you were gone.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Steve sighs, pulling back so he could clean the brunette’s face with gentle hands and a soothing voice.

“We would never leave you, and you know that. (Y/N)- Mama is sick, baby. She’s not feeling good today, we were in the guest bedroom so we didn’t disturb you baby boy. M’ so sorry, I should have let you know.”

The guest bedroom, that made sense. He hadn’t even thought to look in there, it was never used for anything. None of you had family to visit, and all your friends also lived within a reasonable distance for daily visits. Bucky looked up at his Captain, eyes still wet with tears, face red and puffy from crying already.

“Mama’s sick? Can I help her be better?” He felt so small, he really just wanted to be useful somehow. Especially if his sweet Mommy wasn’t feeling good. You didn’t get sick often, but when you did it was never pleasant. Bucky had seen it on occasion, the underlying illness in your body flaring up with a vengeance. It left you nauseous, weak, miserable. And he didn’t want his Mama to be miserable.

“Of course baby boy, you want to help make her some tea?” He gives a little nod and is rewarded with his Captain’s charming smile. They take their time making the tea, Steve giving his baby boy extra love for the fright he endured and explaining a little more. You had been throwing up- and Bucky needed his sleep. He had been on too many missions lately. So you insisted on moving to the spare room, hoping he could get some extra rest. Next time he would definitely have to write a note to make sure your sweet boy didn’t worry like this again.

The tea was finished with no spills. Bucky held the mug close to his chest and walked carefully down the hall, his Captain following with a fond chuckle. He was shuffling his cat socks, pausing if the drink shook too much with that cute pout of concentration on his face. Once at the door he stopped, and Steve could see the gears in his boy’s head turning. How was he supposed to open the door? Sure, he could hold the mug with just one hand. But… it was hot, and he was holding it with his sleeves. The mug would slip away before he could open the door, and all his mama’s tea would be on the floor.

His pondering was answered as a large body wrapped around his back. Reaching around the man, Steve turned the knob and gently pushed the door ajar before urging Bucky inside. He knew that seeing your baby boy would immediately help you to feel better.

Bucky peeked through the gap, eyes landing on the mess of sheets and pillows on the bed. There was a small bin at the side, there in case you got sick. Discarded soup and water on the nightstand, curtains pulled tightly together. You hadn’t even noticed him yet, face buried in the sheets and you wrestled with the ache in your bones. His heart pulled together, his poor Mommy. You were clearly miserable.

As quietly and carefully as he could manage while still balancing your tea, Bucky shuffled his way inside. He could hear you groan from your spot on the bed, moving a little faster at the sound until he arrived at your beside.

“Mama…?” There was a shuffle, and you peered out from the sheets. The sight you were greeted with was just…precious. Your sweet Bucky, wrapped up in your favorite sweater to steal from Steve, a mug that smelled nearly diving held carefully in his hands. He was watching you with a nervous smile, presenting the tea for you to drink. “Here you go, made tea so you feel sick no more.”

Heart melting in your chest, you took the mug and gently set it to the side on the nightstand. Bucky was confused, you could see the pout forming as he began to think the worst. But before your baby boy had time to spiral, you lifted the blankets and reached out for him. “Thank you, sweetheart. But right now Mommy just want lovin’ from her best little boy.” The smile that lights his face could heal anything as he slid into the space provided, curling his large body up against your chest. You smoothed back his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead before fussing with the blankets. Steve stepped up, taking over and tucking the comforter around you both with a fond grin. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, now that I have my baby.”

The blanket shook with a little giggle, you and Steve sharing a small kiss. Sick days were unavoidable sometimes, but they were always easier with both your boys at your side.

[thatgayoctopus]

Wrote a quick thingy about Otto dealing with Chronic Pain from the accident!! This takes place during his redemption arc, just before or at the very beginning of the goblin war arc.

1.1k words, no warnings as far as I'm aware.

Enjory!

~•~ ~•~ ~•~

Otto had hoped that once those wretched mechanical arms were detached from his body, that would be the end of it. The knee pain, the cramping, the aching that the odd distribution of weight caused. That heavy piece of machinery was stuck to him for months on end. By the time he used the power of the neural cortex to separate it from him, he’d grown sick of only being able to lie on his side and stomach, constantly standing with a shifting center of balance, not to mention the way the melted metal tugged on his skin where the mechanism was fused to his back and neck. Now it was months later. He’d been through a lot since then: trapped in a robot, spending time as Spider-man, remaining comatose for several days after returning Peter's body, turning a new page and trying his best to fight on the side of “good.” 

Now he sat sulking in the Spider’s nest like usual, however when normally he would be fiddling with some of his or Spider-man’s gear, he was instead resting his head on the counter, face buried in his crossed arms, and biting back the pain in his lower body. The sharp throbbing originated in his back and spread down through his legs, flaring up on days where he was more physically active. He mumbled a quiet curse under his breath, remembering how he’d worked on the new surveillance center longer than he knew he should’ve. He was so distracted by the shooting pain and his own thoughts that he hadn’t really registered when the door to the lab opened, and a familiar set of footsteps made their way into the main room.

“Otto? Are you here?”

Anna Maria’s voice called out near the front as she switched on a light. Otto, who had originally turned them off to help fight his growing headache, let out a complaining groan, squeezing his eyes shut. While he normally relished her company, he was… rather embarrassed to be in such a state, not to mention unable to socialize properly with the looming threat of a migraine. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you in the dark. You alright, slick?” She set down her purse as she approached him, tentatively setting a concerned hand on his upper back. He flinched slightly, letting out a hiss of pain when he moved, and struggled to relax once more afterwards.

“Y- yes, I am just fine Anna Maria, thank you…” He lied, voice obviously strained and laced with irritation. He would much rather blatantly deny the truth than admit defeat to something he’d been putting up with for months now. Anna Maria eyed him skeptically, taking her hand off his back after noticing his uncomfortable reaction.

“Really..? You don’t seem to be doing too well. Is something wrong?” She leaned over the counter, tilting her head to try and get a look at his face. He refused to reciprocate, sensing her presence there and turning his head away just slightly, nose buried in the crook of his elbow.

“No, Anna Maria. I am fine.” He warned, shifting in his seat slightly to try and dispel the pins and needles feeling in his legs. She pursed her lips, furrowing her brow. 

“I don’t believe you. Look me in the eye and tell me that you’re feeling okay, then I’ll leave you alone.” Crossing her arms, she waited expectantly for a response from the young man, who’d fallen silent. He finally heaved out a sigh, sitting up slowly with a look of pain drawn tight across his face. He refused to look her in the eye as he quietly spoke.

“... I am simply dealing with some… joint pain. That is all.” Otto’s gaze remained trained to one of his many projects on the counter nearest him, distracting himself as he crossed his arms and leaned back. Despite his desperate attempt to look casual and unaffected by the woman’s commanding presence, he still sat stiffly and winced with each miniscule twist and lean of his torso. Her face softened when she could see his expressions, and while she would never say it out loud, she was proud of the way she managed to make him open up so consistently. 

“Seems pretty intense for your average aches and pains. Can you tell me what's wrong…? I might be able to help.” She asked gently, reaching up and putting a hand on his forearm. He finally looked her way, glancing between her hand and her eyes as he debated on whether or not he should be honest. Eventually he caved with an indignant growl, rolling his eyes. 

“I have been dealing with this pain since I first had my mechanical arms fused to my nervous system. Apparently having several kilograms permanently attached to your back for a year is not beneficial for your skeletal structure.” He gave a rushed, sarcastic answer, as per usual when he was upset about whatever situation he currently found himself in. It's funny, as much as Anna Maria felt she understood Otto, she often forgot about his criminal past, and had never stopped to think about the physical effect it may have had on him. 

“Have you seen a doctor about it?” She asked, tilting her head.

“You know as well as I how sick of hospitals I have become… not to mention-” he cut himself off before entering his usual spiel about “medical professionals” being clueless dolts, since Anna Maria had already scolded him on that sentiment. She'd made him aware that when he felt powerless his first instinct was to blame everyone else for their shortcomings, and now any time he resorted to that mentality he noticed right away, attempting to redirect as per her instruction. He eyed Anna Maria, carefully resuming his sentence after restructuring the thoughts in his head.

“... Not to mention I have deduced that the injury and associated pain is not severe, as well as easily avoidable.” He finished cautiously.

She scoffed, a little dumbfounded by his belittlement of the situation.

“Not severe? Otto, you can't even stand up. Please take this seriously. I won't make you go to the doctor, I suppose, but I'll be damned if I don't do anything at all to help. Excuse my language. What can I do to help?”

“Anna Maria, I don't-”

“What can I do to help, Otto?"

She repeated, much more insistently. He pressed his mouth into a line, chewing on his lips as he regarded her. His eyes lowered, and he drew in a hesitant breath.

“... I keep a few ice packs in the freezer. You will find them in the room adjacent to this one.” He finally mumbled, giving up trying to fight her. She gave a content smile, and patted his arm appreciatively, if not a little smugly. 

“Thank you, Otto. Would you like some painkillers?” He went quiet, refusing to give her more ammunition against him. 

“Otto.” She restated sternly, to which he grumbled with frustration. 

“... Third cabinet from the right.”

[neonthewrite]

How would Jacob and Bowman react to seeing a cat or another animal? (would bowman be scared?)

I'm not sure why I didn't get a notification for this one, but here we are.

I actually wrote a scene involving a cat in the planned sequel for Bowman of Wellwood, which has been on the back burner for a while after I had to rethink the outline a lot. So this is very old and unpolished writing from the way back days when I was still writing Bowman in first person, but I might as well share the snippet!

For context, in the sequel, Bowman and Rischa journeyed with Jacob to his home for an extended visit to see how humans live.

~~~~~

Movement caught Jacob’s eye. He glanced toward the fence nearest the house and his face immediately paled. He surged forward at the same time as the shadowy shape did, determined to reach it before it reached the unaware sprites. They’ve never even seen one before! he thought in a panic, even as he saw Bowman whirl around where he stood to see what bore down on him.

The cat closed the distance before Jacob could, but he ran on anyway.

~~~

I stopped talking to Rischa in mid sentence when I felt it. The rush of ice up my spine and the tingling in my fingertips that screamed at my instincts shifted my mind right into another mode. They were the instincts of one who knew in his core that he was hunted.

Wood sprites, pacifists as we are, drift near the bottom of the food chain. We are prey species, being so small and easily overpowered. Our wings and camouflage give us the best defense against something that might attempt to prey upon us. Hiding among the trees in Wellwood, we were safe from the wolves, foxes, and owls that also called the forest home.

It didn’t matter when we threw all our usual precautions away by standing on the ground. I should have realized my stupidity before I ever let my boots touch down in the soft earth near Jacob’s enormous dwelling.

I whirled around and shoved Rischa back with my wings at the same time, sending her stumbling further into the shadows under a tall plant with a bright yellow flower and a cup-shaped corona in the middle.

It wasn’t a moment too soon, because a predator had found us.

I stared with wide, bright green eyes at the beast, my entire body primed and filling rapidly with adrenaline. I had no blasted idea what this thing was. Sleek, dark grey fur covered its body, which was a little smaller than a fox’s, leaving it to stand a few times my height. It had triangular ears atop its head, and greenish yellow eyes bored into me as it stalked towards me with its belly slightly lowered.

I couldn’t even feel its light steps shaking in the ground at its graceful approach. Mostly, I just felt the assurance in that gaze that this thing, whatever it was, would rip me to pieces and gobble me down.

I flared my wings wide in the hopes that it would make me look too large to deal with. The animal paused for only a partial second before darting forward again, paws bigger than my torso pushing it forward silently. It opened its muzzle, revealing sharp fangs. Its slit-pupiled eyes squinted and its ears folded back and it hissed, giving it the sound and appearance of a snake.

It didn’t approve of my threat display. It definitely still wanted to eat me. That’s my luck.