#today I was asked to help teach a lesson thing about getting through death

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

it's been one year

I miss you tfc <3

[sinner-as-saint]

here forever

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Run-through: Dating a superhero was no joke. And as noble as Bucky’s job was, it was just as dangerous and unpredictable. Which is why ever since you and Bucky started dating, he’d been training you in his free time. Teaching you how to defend yourself if ever he wasn’t around to protect you, or if ever his enemies came after you. Although you weren’t perfect at combat yet, you were almost certain you could get out of a tricky situation if you ever found yourself in one. But you were soon proven wrong. And your only option was to hope and pray that Bucky finds you in time. 

Themes: smut, fluff, mentions of kidnapping and death, boyfriend!bucky to the rescue, slight angst, hurt/comfort, mean!dom!bucky, aftercare, biker!bucky (except i made him wear a helmet because safety), mild daddy kink (nicknames only)

a/n: short, quick lil fic because I know we’re all hungry

It had been two hours since these strange men had so easily abducted you off the streets. 

It was a regular day, you were leaving yoga class and were on your way to pick up a smoothie. A treat you always got yourself after each workout class. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except Bucky’s incessant messages asking about your location. 

You knew you weren’t supposed to let your guard down, not even on busy streets – one of the first lessons Bucky taught you just weeks after your first date with him. But you couldn’t help looking down and frowning at your phone. Your bag, purse and phone in your hands. Always have your hands free when walking alone, even on busy streets – the second thing he taught you. 

Always be ready. Always be ready. Always be fucking ready. 

But you had messed up that morning. Bucky’s messages were starting to worry you. He had been away since last night, and as usual, never gave you too many details about his job. But all you knew was that before he left, he’d asked you to try and not go out if you could. Your apartment was safe. He had eyes all over that building. Cameras, security guards, it was the safest place you could be. 

‘Where are you? Why aren’t you home?’

Seconds later: 

‘I told you not to go out. It’s not safe right now. Call me.’ 

Then some missed calls which you couldn’t answer because you were in class at the time. Then messages one after the other: 

‘Go straight home.’ 

‘Is your class over?’ 

‘Go home and wait for me. Don’t open the door for anyone else.’ 

‘Baby I’m so serious right now, go home.’ 

And you were midway through typing an answer to reply to him. To tell him not to worry. To tell him that yes your class was over, and everything was okay and you would call him as soon as you got home. 

But you never got the chance to reply to his messages. 

It all happened too fast. One moment you were looking down, all your focus on your phone and boyfriend, and the next, you were being grabbed and shoved into a dark truck. You barely even got a scream out before the doors were shut and a tape sealed your mouth, ropes snaking around your wrists and ankles. 

And just like that, in less than a full minute, you were taken. 

And here you were now. 

In the back of that same truck which had been driving for about two hours, maybe more. Getting further and further away from the city you lived in, and into more and more unknown areas. 

Fuck! You had messed up. 

You should’ve checked your phone while you were still inside the building. You shouldn’t have been texting on the streets. You shouldn’t have let your guard down. Bucky had been saying for weeks that he suspected people had eyes on him, and consequently you because you two spent a lot of time together. 

He was right of course. He always was. You should’ve listened. You should’ve stayed at home, at least until he got back later today. 

A tear slid down your face, like it had been for the past hours. You silently cried, thinking about all the potential circumstances you could end up finding yourself in. You couldn’t even tell who were the men who kidnapped you because they all wore masks and hadn’t said a single word in the past hours. 

They were armed. And the truck seemed bulletproof. And they kept driving. Nothing said about wanting a ransom, nothing about why they had taken you, or whether they were using you as bait to get Bucky’s attention. Surely they were. 

And a few minutes later, when you heard the familiar roar of a familiar bike, you knew they had his full attention. 

Bucky was here. 

But they hadn’t noticed yet. And you didn’t want them to. So you tried to get all their attention on you by wiggling in the backseat, acting like you were trying to get more comfortable. The two armed men right in front of you just glanced at you and your tied limbs and let you be. 

You noticed the guy in the passenger seat didn’t even bother looking at you. The driver looked into the rearview mirror but quickly looked away and ahead. 

They still hadn’t heard the faint, steady roar of Bucky’s bike. 

Perfect. 

By the time Bucky would get close enough to attack, he would catch them by surprise. And it would be too late for them to react and defend themselves. 

So you kept moving, grunting in annoyance extra loudly just to mask the sound of Bucky’s bike as it got closer and closer– 

A loud gunshot exploded near you. For a moment nothing made sense. 

Then you realised the truck was no longer steady, it was tilted on one side. Bucky had shot one or more of the tires. You sighed in relief, while the men in the vehicle panicked. Muffled voices spoke all at once, one of them telling the driver to drive faster. 

Another, one of the men who was armed in front of you, lowered the window and popped his head and gun out, trying to find whoever was around but it was too late. 

You turned your head and managed to catch a glimpse of him through the rear windshield. Amongst the smoke and dirt flying, there he was. Mounted on his mean bike like a fierce general riding his beast into battle. Except this general wasn’t backed by soldiers. He was alone. 

But army or not, he was still Bucky Barnes. All black bike, black helmet, full biker gear, metal arm catching the sunlight. Guns strapped to his body. He looked like Death. 

A sob shook your body as you ducked and hid under the seats as much as you could as Bucky rain down bullets like hellfire upon the vehicle. He knew it was bulletproof, but you were certain he was doing it just to get the men to use their weapons and waste their bullets on him as fast as possible. 

The loud noises made it seem like your brain was vibrating, your heart was racing, and your ears were hurting with how loud the guns and shouts were. But Bucky was here, and all would be well now. 

A few seconds later, the truck began zig-zagging. You assumed it must be because the driver got shot. More shouts and bullets later, the truck came to a sudden stop. Like it collided with something that was strong enough to stop it even at that speed. 

But there was nothing on the empty streets you had been on. Nothing except… Bucky. 

An eerie silence followed. Then footsteps. The men in the truck had all been shot you realised upon smelling the scent of blood and gunpowder. 

You couldn’t get yourself up, not with your limbs still tied but you tried your best. And you were barely up when you heard the sound of metal literally tearing apart. You managed to peek from the back seat and Bucky had torn off one of the doors. The entire door off the side of the truck. 

You couldn’t call for him, but you kicked the back of one of the seats hard enough to get his attention. 

The moment his ocean blue eyes met your teary ones, you couldn’t help but start crying. Hot, burning tears streaming down your face as Bucky almost tore apart the entire truck to get to you. The moment he grabbed you and pulled you out into the open air, it was only his arm around you keeping you up. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispered over and over again, “You’re safe. I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.” He repeated continuously as he carefully peeled the tape off your lips and cupped your face in his hands, looking at you intently to look for injuries while he wiped your tears away. “Are you hurt?” He asked, looking more panicked and worried than ever. “Baby, answer me. Did they hurt you? Inject you with anything? Touch you?” 

You shook your head, wanting nothing more than to just be able to take a deep breath, now safe in his arms. Only when you went to wrap your shaky arms around him, he stopped you. Keeping you at arms’ length and away from him. 

That worried, soft look in his eyes turned cold. Even under the afternoon sun, you shivered under his gaze. 

“What the fuck did I tell you before I left, huh?” He snarled. “I told you to stay inside, don’t leave the building. Didn’t I say that?” 

You sniffled, nodding. “I just went to my weekly class, and–,” 

He cut you off, hissing, “And look what happened!” He was almost screaming in your face, “You’re so lucky I got here in time. You’re so fucking lucky I have a tracker in that bag of yours. Otherwise it would’ve taken me days to get to you! Days!” 

You trembled, knowing he was right. Bucky dealt with dangerous people. He knew why he asked you to be cautious. 

Bucky leaned closer to you, looking down at you with no warmth. “These aren’t the villains you read about in your silly, little fucking books.” His voice sounded menacing, freezing. “These are actual, dangerous people. They wouldn’t have waited for you to charm your way out. They would’ve killed you!” He yelled. 

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed. “I was replying to your texts and–,” 

“We had a deal, didn’t we?” He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him. “That when I tell you it’s not safe out there, you stay put. You stay inside and wait for me.” He growled. “You could’ve been killed today! And who would have had to live with that, huh? Who would’ve had to live with the disappointment that he couldn’t keep you safe? That he brought you into this shitty life and couldn’t even keep you alive?” He bellowed. “Who would’ve had to look your family in the eyes and tell them he lost you? Me! That’s who!” 

More tears, and a whimper escaped your lips. “I’m sorry.” You whispered. You had never seen this side of him. He let go of your face like it burned to touch you. 

He looked around, at the torn apart truck. At the bodies. The bullets on the ground. He grimaced but didn’t say anything. He reached into the truck and grabbed your things. Your bag and all that you had on you when you were taken. Your phone wasn’t here though, they must’ve thrown it out onto the streets while they took you. 

Bucky said, “We need to get out of here. Come.” 

He didn’t turn around to see if you were following, he knew you would. Once he got on his bike, he handed you his jacket and helmet. You put both on without questioning where you were going. 

Once sat behind him, your arms hesitantly around his torso, he turned to the side and said, “City’s not safe right now. We’ll spend the night at a motel nearby.” 

And that was all he said for the next few hours. 

– 

By the time you two made it to the motel – which was much, much more decent and clean than you had imagined – the sun was already setting. The place was quiet. A few voices conversing here and there, ACs humming as ACs do, cars coming in and out frequently given there was a gas station nearby, and a burger joint on the other side of the street. 

Bucky got you two a room for the night, and didn’t say a word to you as he grabbed your hand and led you to the room. 

It was a decent room. Bed, bedside tables, TV, sofas. The usual. 

You didn’t notice Bucky had packed a bag as well. You hadn’t been paying much attention anyway. He placed his much bigger bag on the bed and pulled out a few things. Some belonging to you, you noticed. Toothbrush, soaps, clean clothes. 

He handed a bunch of things to you and said, “Go shower.” He didn’t even look at you as he spoke. Guess he was still angry at you. 

You didn’t argue. You just took the things and rushed to the bathroom, locking yourself in there for a good half an hour. 

When you stepped out of the shower, feeling clean finally, you noticed Bucky wasn’t in the room. And the weather outside had changed. You could hear the faint thunder approaching. Surely by tonight there would be a storm. 

But where had Bucky gone? 

You put your clothes away in your bag, and with no phone you had no choice but to turn the TV on. You got in bed, a few minutes into watching some random documentary when Bucky walked in with food. 

You gave him a look, wondering if he would talk to you now. But all he said as he placed the bags filled with food on the bed was, “It’s none of your fancy green smoothies and healthy wraps, but it’ll have to do for now. I’m going to shower.” 

Then he disappeared. 

You were still upset, but then hunger took over and you pawed at the bags like a raccoon. You found milkshakes, fries, and burgers. And you ate while you wondered how long Bucky would keep being angry at you. 

You were halfway through your second burger when Bucky walked out of the shower. With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His wet, dark hair pushed back, droplets of water still dripping down his chest and abs. 

You swallowed your food before you choked, then looked away, acting as if the documentary on the TV was much more interesting to look at compared to your half naked boyfriend. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, and you noticed he was carrying a first-aid kit in his hands. 

You shook your head. 

“Nothing? No scratches, nothing?” He asked again. 

You shrugged, “Just a small cut. It’ll heal. Nothing serious.” 

He walked over to your side of the bed, and said, “Show me.” 

You didn’t want to argue so you placed your food aside, lifted your shirt and showed him the minuscule cut on your ribs. “It’s not–,” 

But he cut you off by placing the kit down and looking for some cotton and disinfectant. 

It burned as he cleaned in and put a little bandaid over it. It hurt even more when he didn’t kiss it after like he usually does whenever he tends to your cuts and wounds. 

You didn’t say a word though. And soon, you both finished your food in silence with only the TV and the approaching storm as noise in the background. 

The thunder got louder and louder as you both got into bed. That weird silent treatment continued, and by now you were annoyed as well. You’d admit, it was your fault for being so careless when he’d told you to be cautious. But didn’t he see that you needed him now? 

Couldn’t he see you wanted to be held? And kissed? And comforted? 

You frowned in the dark. The lights from outside came through the blinds and lit the room up a little bit. As did the lightning. You were the only one tossing and turning you noticed, Bucky was asleep it seemed. 

But the thunder, the new bed, the fear and stress from earlier, it was all keeping you from falling asleep. Plus, it was a little embarrassing to admit, but you liked being held while you fell asleep. But Bucky wasn’t even talking to you, and wrapping your own arms around yourself wasn’t working. 

Another hour went by. Now the heavy rain finally came, along with a proper thunder storm. And you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You turned to face Bucky and he had his eyes shut, facing you. Not a single item of clothing on his body, except for a thin sheet covering him from the waist down. You sighed, frowning a little in annoyance still but you couldn’t help but scoot closer to him, seeking his warmth and embrace. 

First you pressed into him, to see if he would stir or wake up. He didn’t. So you got bolder and took his metal arm and placed it around you, waiting again. He didn’t move. So you went to wrap your arms around him, and once you did, you heard his sleepy voice saying, “Oh, what’s this? Now you need me?” 

You froze, trying to see if you could pretend you were asleep already. He didn’t buy it. 

“I know you’re awake.” 

You sighed. “It’s the thunder.” You said, nuzzling his warm neck. 

“And you need daddy to protect you now, little bunny?” He mocked. “But when I try to tell you what to do to keep you safe you never listen.” 

You noticed he kept his arm around you, pulling you more into him even as he chided you. “I’m so sorry, Buck. It won’t happen again.” 

He hummed. “It better not.” 

You were quiet for a second or two, then said, “You were so mean to me earlier.” 

“I have to be.” He said sternly. “You never listen. You don’t take your training seriously, you think you’re ready to fight your way out, baby, but you’re not. All I asked you to do was not to leave that apartment until I got there. But you couldn’t help but be a brat, could you?” 

You squirmed in shame. “I don’t want you to be angry with me.” 

“Well,” He said, sounding sassy as he pulled you closer, “I am pissed. Deal with it.” 

You had had enough. You slipped out of his arms, “Stay here and brood then,” You tried to get out of bed, “I’ll sleep on one of the sofas–” 

Bucky didn’t let you. A loud thunder boomed right above as he pulled you back into bed and climbed on top of you. “Stop being fucking difficult.” He hissed. 

Before you could answer, his mouth was on yours. Beard scratching your face, his long hair tickling the sides of your face. 

His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Bucky pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldn’t close your mouth. “Brat.” Glaring down at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again. 

Your brain felt like it was floating. His kiss was hot. And messy. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “Needy little brat. Can’t ever do as you’re told, can you? You almost got fucking killed today, but you don’t care about that. Do you? Huh?” 

You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function. 

“Why are you quiet? No bratty words for daddy?” He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. “Go on, tell me to stop. Tell me to let you go.” He taunted, knowing full well you would never do that. 

All you did was whimper as he touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. 

“You’re gonna listen from now on.” He stated. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll lock you in that apartment if I have to. But from now on, if I tell you it’s not safe out there, you do not leave that house. You hear me, princess?” 

Silence. Which earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him. “Fine,” You said, “Yes, I hear you. I’ll be good.” You whined. 

“Of course you will,” He said, his metal hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare. “‘Cause I’ll have you over my knee and spank that little butt raw if you don’t.” 

You whimpered and squirmed because of how badly you needed him inside you. “I will. I’ll be so good,” You begged, “Buck, please.” 

Bucky wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you moaning out loud, not caring that the walls might be thin. 

The storm got louder somehow, thunder rumbling and lightning lighting up the room every now and then. The rain got heavier, silencing the rest of the world as Bucky fucked you. His body weight pressing down onto you in a way that made you never want to be anywhere else. 

It didn’t matter that you were in a small motel room, so far away from home. It didn’t matter that danger could still be lurking around. Nothing mattered, not when he held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right. 

He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “Look how you behave the moment you have some cock in you. Is that all my baby wanted? Daddy’s cock? Hmm? Is this why you’ve been pouting for the past few hours?” He chuckled, spreading your thighs even more, “I’ve been mean to you, haven’t I?” He cooed, fucking into you deeper somehow. “I’ve been so mean by telling you just where you messed up and how bad things could’ve gotten if I didn’t reach you in time. I’m so mean to you, aren’t I?” He mocked you, scoffing, “Is that why your pussy is strangling my cock, baby? Because daddy’s so mean to you, is he?”

You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. 

“Is this what you wanted, little bunny?” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “Is this enough to make you behave from now on, baby?” 

You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. His stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body grew, familiar, tight and hot.

The storm, the streetlights, and every little bit of light allowed you to see how Bucky looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “I killed for you today.” He whispered, “I saved you, and this is what I get? Attitude? A bratty girl? Not even a thank you,” He scoffed, “Not even a ‘thank you for saving me daddy’, nothing.” The cold cruelty in his voice only made you clench around him harder. 

His hand squeezed your throat again, making you moan even louder. “Dirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.” He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. “Are you gonna be good from now on?” 

“Yes,” You whined, not recognising your voice because of how desperate you sounded. Then again, only he could make you sound this way. You whimpered, unable to say anything else because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. 

Fuck, you needed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his metal fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly. 

“Yeah?” He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “You’re gonna be my good girl and listen to me?” 

You nodded, tears streaming down your face again. The exhaustion from earlier, the day you had survived. It was all too much. “Please…” You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad. Your thoughts were a mess. 

“Good girl.” 

And you couldn’t hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning, your back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier. 

Bucky kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. “That’s it, babygirl. Come for daddy.” 

You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 

—

You vaguely remember his cleaning the two of you. He let you rest for a minute, but then it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. So he flipped you around, straddled you and began massaging your worn out body. 

He rubbed his rough hands all over your back, down your hips, and thighs. It was quiet for a while. Just the rain, the thunder, and the sound of Bucky breathing. 

Then you heard his gentle voice. “I can’t lose you. Not you.” He whispered, like he was saying it to himself, “Not you, baby.” 

Your heart throbbed and pinched.  

He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck, your shoulders, down your spine, all while massaging your body. “I don’t like being mean to you.” He kissed his way up again, nuzzling your ear and whispering, “Earlier today,” He spoke softly, “When I watched the tracker show me how fast you were getting further and further away, thinking about how they must’ve grabbed you. How easily, how quickly they took you, I–,” His voice cracked. 

You couldn’t help the tears anymore, “I’m sorry.” You tried to turn over and face him but he gently pushed you back down on the bed. 

“Shh,” He shut you up. “Just let me take care of you.” His hands touched you everywhere. Soft touches soothing the spots he’d grabbed harshly earlier. “You scared me, baby.” He kissed around the cut on your side. “For a moment I thought I’d never see you again.” 

“I’ll be good, I promise.” You sniffled, trying to look at him over your shoulder. “I’ll train harder, I’ll be better. I won’t let my guard down, ever.” 

He leaned in and kissed your lips gently. “You’re perfect.” He stated. “We’ll work on training you better. We’ll be okay. Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you. Always.” 

You gave him a teary smile and sheepishly said, “Thank you for saving me.” 

Bucky laughed softly, nuzzling your neck again, kissing your skin like he couldn’t get enough. “I would burn this entire world down if anyone tries to take you from me again.” 

You laid your head back down on the pillow, laughing softly. Thinking he was joking. 

He wasn’t.

[redtsundere-writes]

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Chapter 7. Help Me To Help You.

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Summary: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. More Info.

Less than 48 hours left til fight night. This time, the championship night would take place in Tokyo. It was always good to fight at home so we didn’t have to worry about traveling nor having jet lag. Sukuna and Naoya had gone through the judges and referees for the official weigh-in at the official UFC facility. Luckily, Naoya threw me a couple of flirtatious winks and didn't say a word at the brief meeting. If Sukuna found out that I betted my position as his coach, he would kill me without hesitation. 

The band of the treadmill was moving under my feet. I couldn’t give up. The outcome of this fight rested on my attitude against the circumstances. My arms swayed with every step I took. I had to secure Sukuna's luck no matter what. I was losing my breath due to fatigue. Sukuna won the last fight against Toji Fushiguro thanks to me. My feet were moving on their own. Should I fuck him again? 

“Hey!” Sukuna shouted in my ear, waking me up from my thoughts. 

My feet stopped dead in their tracks on the treadmill, causing me to lose my balance and stumble. The band pushed me off the platform, sending me rolling to the ground. My head was spinning, so I lay down to recover. It's a lousy idea to get up suddenly after a serious fall, that's how you pass out. I knew it from experience.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today? You're acting weird,” Sukuna asked me, annoyed. 

“Shut up,” I mumbled with a frown. 

“Are you worried about the fight tomorrow?” 

“Of course I'm worried! If you don't win tomorrow, I'll have to go back to the Zen’in’s!” I thought, but I couldn't tell him that. I had gotten myself into this mess on my own, I was willing to get out of it alone and teach that jerk Naoya Zen’in a lesson. 

“A little, but it will be alright. I trust your good luck ritual will work, by the way, do you have someone to fuck already?” I asked, trying not to sound too obvious. 

“Keep your fucking voice down!” Sukuna scolded me between whispers, kneeling down next to me to look me at the eye. “Only Yuuji should know, but he opened his mouth and now you and Gojo know,” he whispered, after making sure no one around us was paying attention.

“Megumi knows about it too.” 

“That nosy little shit,” he grumbled before desperately doing a facepalm.

I didn't think he was embarrassed by his lucky ritual. Yes, it was unconventional, but I didn't know it was a big open secret. Usually male athletes are not embarrassed about fucking multiple women, they even flex about it by bringing a different woman to their matches. I thought Sukuna would be like them, I was surprised he wasn’t. 

“Get up now, you look stupid,” he said, offering his hand to help me.

“Good thing I caught you resting, Sukuna,” Nanami announced his presence as he approached us. “Hey, weren't you supposed to leave 10 minutes ago?” he asked me directly. I looked at my watch, it was 2:10 pm. I had to leave soon if I wanted to get to my appointment on time. 

“That's right! Thanks for reminding me,” I thanked Nanami before rushing to the lockers to change. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? Tomorrow is fight night!” Sukuna shouted angrily, grabbing my arm to stop me from running away. 

“It’s going to help you win! I promise!” I exclaimed to get him to let me go. 

“Are you going to let her go just like that?” Sukuna asked Nanami as if he was my dad. 

“She asked to leave early a month ago, she told me it was important. It's in her rights as an employee,” Nanami explained calmly. 

I abruptly let go of Sukuna, and he grumbled in contempt. He knew Nanami was right. If he didn't let me leave, I could file a complaint against him with HR. I assured him he would thank me later, and he death glared at me. That was so him. 

At the lockers, I took off my stinky clothes from sweat training. I opened my gym bag and took out the denim skirt I had packed. The last time I wore a mini skirt was on my first date with Naoya, a special occasion. “I can't believe I'm going to wear this again,” I thought as I saw how short it was, it barely covered my butt. I had to wear it, this would be a special day too. 

2 hours later on a train ride, I arrived at my not so exciting destination. The Golden Pot, a Chinese restaurant on the outskirts of Kyoto, known for having the best wonton soup in town. I never thought I would return to this place. It brought back bittersweet memories of my relationship with Naoya, as I had the best dates of my life with him here. It was amazing how the person I once grew to love more than myself became my #1 enemy. 

Naoya has a less troublesome luck ritual than Sukuna. Before every fight, he must eat a bowl of wonton soup to secure his stomach and his victory. He always did this in the evenings after the official weigh-in. When he travels out of the country, he usually eats it before taking the plane. Since he was fighting in Tokyo, I knew he would be at the restaurant. I always thought it was a stupid ritual, but this information helps me now. I zipped up my Team Black jacket and walked confidently into the place. 

The aroma of ginger and garlic permeated my nose as soon as I walked through the doors. Like any Chinese restaurant, the place was decorated with red lanterns hanging from the ceiling and golden dragons of good fortune among the long tables. The sound of sizzling dishes and the animated murmur of customers enjoying authentic Chinese food crept into my ears as I searched for the stupid blond with my eyes.

I spotted him at the table where he always used to sit. A table in a booth with red cushions and an intimate atmosphere. He was alone and undercover as if he were a spy, wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses despite being indoors. I really didn't want to approach him, but I had to be brave. I had traveled all the way from Tokyo to confront him and put him out of his comfort zone, I couldn't afford to chicken out now. 

“Is it good?” I greeted him reluctantly. Naoya looked up from his bowl and took off his glasses to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Taking his time to run down my bare legs, getting used to the idea that I was standing before him. 

“Well, well… What brings you all the way to Kyoto?” He asked me with a smile. 

“Since you came to visit me at the gym and my house, I thought it would be nice to visit you at your favorite place,” I replied, sitting down across from him.

“You are so cute,” he commented before eating a wonton. 

A waitress came to our table quickly to take my order. She tried giving me a menu, but I already knew what I was going to order. 

“I'm not going to stay long, I'll just have a wonton soup to go and an iced tea for here,” I asked. 

“Are you in a hurry?” Naoya asked me, disappointed, once the waitress left. 

“A little, I have to go back to Tokyo early to continue training Sukuna,” I answered. 

“Do you care about him?” He asked me seriously. 

“Of course I do, it's my job.”

“No, I mean, do you really care about him?” He corrected the question.  

I frowned in response. It was true that Sukuna was on my mind 80% of the day, but that's because he is my job. I have to make sure he eats well, does the exercises correctly and is in his best mental state before every fight. I have seen him progress in the last four months that I have been training him, and I was proud of my work, but where was he going with that kind of question? Naoya sighed when he didn't get an answer. 

“Do you like him?” he asked, confident that he knew the answer already. 

“No,” I answered coldly, before he made up weird ideas in his head. 

I couldn't imagine jumping from one idiot to another. Sukuna could be an amazing athlete, an extremely attractive man and a good protector, but he was still a traitor, a rude champion and someone who uses women to his advantage. We had grown up together these past few months, but I was not to be confused, he was still Sukuna Ryomen. 

“This brings back so many memories. This is where we had our first kiss. We were so young and immature,” Naoya sighed as he imagined the scene.

“We are still young and immature, especially you. You still cling to the past and want to pull me with you,” I mumbled. 

“What's wrong with wanting to take back what's mine?” he wondered, annoyed that I had broken his illusion. 

“That I am not your property nor Zen’in’s,” I answered. 

“We'll see about that tomorrow,” Naoya self-assured. 

The waitress arrived with my order carefully wrapped in a plastic bag and the tea in the typical yellowish plastic cup of this kind of restaurant. I smiled as I saw the full glass in front of me, “This is what I came for,” I thought as I took a sip. 

“You're right, let’s not argue now,” I thought out loud as I got up from my seat, ready to leave. “We'll see about that tomorrow,” I said with a confident smile. 

I poured the iced tea over Naoya's half-eaten wonton soup. His eyes widened at the reckless act I was pulling. I was ruining his good luck ritual before his eyes. I slammed the glass down on the table in front of him to grab his attention back. 

“You better not back off,” I threatened him in a low voice so that he was the only one listening to me. 

“I hope you too, cutie,” he glared at me, this time he had stopped smiling to restrain himself from hitting a woman in a public place. 

I left the place with my food and sighed relieved that the conversation had not escalated any further. I checked the time. It was almost 6 pm, I had to get to the train station if I wanted to make it to the next part of my plan on time. 

SUKUNA POV 

A sharp pain invaded my neck as I moved my shoulder again. A grunt of pain escaped from my lips as I moved it in circles as Shoko recommended. The hot water from the shower helped dull the pain. I should be embarrassed. I couldn't let such a superficial injury stop me. I had to give my 110% in tomorrow's fight as always. My honor and my title were on the line again. I shouldn't be worried though, no one knows that my shoulder is injured, and I have Y/n, who has been teaching me all of Naoya's moves. My chances of winning were still pretty high. 

I let the hot water run over my body some more. I didn't want to get out of the shower, but I had to get ready to greet the prostitute I had hired in advance for tonight's ritual. I wrapped myself in my shower robe and went on to dry my hair, so I would have it ready for tomorrow. I was in my best possible shape, but aesthetics are also important for sponsors. 

The doorbell echoed through the penthouse, letting me know that someone was waiting at the door. I frowned at the time. It was barely 8 o'clock, the hooker was supposed to arrive at 9. "Who the fuck is it this late?", I asked myself annoyed. I walked over to the door to see who it was. 

It was a rather pleasant surprise to see Y/n through the peephole. She was waiting patiently outside the door with a plastic bag in her hands. I was going to open the door, but I saw her take off the team black gym jacket. My cheeks flushed slightly at the sight of her in something other than workout clothes. She was wearing the shortest denim skirt I had ever seen in my life and a pink shirt that allowed me to see her cleavage thanks to the height difference. I had seen her wear things that revealed her stunning body, but this was the first time I had seen something that made her look like a girl and not like someone who can kick my ass. 

She started to lose her patience. She rang the doorbell again, bringing me back to reality. I was a weak man if just looking at her made me blush. “Fuck,” I thought, annoyed with myself, before opening the door. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I scolded her. “Who the fuck gave you my address?” 

“What a nice way to greet your coach,” she joked, sarcastically. “Nanami gave me your address. I came all the way from Kyoto to bring you a good luck wonton soup,” she explained as she handed me the plastic bag.

As soon as she moved his jacket from one arm to the other, I noticed something about her outfit that I hadn't seen through the peephole before. It was a detail I shouldn't have minded in the least, but my eyes hyper-fixated on it anyway. The pink rim of her thong protruded above her skirt, gently draped over her hip. The fact that I even noticed it surprised me. I'd seen that on thousands of models at parties, why did it matter to me so much in Y/n? Had she done it on purpose? It was hard to tell, since I only know her in working hours. This was the first time we had met outside the work environment. 

“Are you going to let me in?” she wondered. 

“Did you really go all the way to Kyoto to bring me a measly wonton soup?” I asked as I inspected the contents. Y/n slapped my arm at the rejection of her gift. 

“It's the best soup in the world!” she scolded me, offended. “Also, I went to ruin Naoya's lucky ritual,” she confessed, embarrassed. 

“Are you fucking stupid!? That's why you left training early?!” I yelled in annoyance. 

“Hey! You should be thankful that I'm taking every precaution to ensure my victory!” she finished off by raising her voice to reach my volume. She always has a stupid answer for everything. 

“Your victory…” I tasted the phrase in my mouth. “Are you only doing this just for yourself?”

“My victory is that you remain as the champion,” she clarified. 

“Well, you did what you had to do,” I told her, ready to close the door. 

“You didn't answer the question I asked you earlier,” she reminded me, it was as if she didn't want the conversation to end. 

“What are you talking about?” As soon as I blurted out the question, she blushed and avoided my gaze. 

“Do you already have someone for your lucky ritual?” She asked, still avoiding my gaze. 

“Yes, she's coming in an hour. You can go home now,” I said, tired of explaining myself to her. I tried to close the door, but she pulled her body into the penthouse to avoid it. 

“Are you sure she will satisfy you?” She asked me, almost desperate. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I yelled, opening the door again. “You've been so weird since we made the strategy! Is there something you want to tell me?”

“I just want to make sure that your ritual goes well…” she whispered in embarrassment. That sounded like a damn lie. 

“Y/n!” I scolded her. She was startled by the scream and then sighed in surrender. 

She told me all about her history with Naoya in a low voice. From how they met to how he continues to stalk her to this day. She told me how she came to his house out of nowhere and betted on her freedom to get rid of him once and for all. “Are you such a dumb bitch?! How could you even think of doing that!” are things I wanted to scream at her until her ears bled from her stupidity, but I couldn't do it seeing her so emotionally drained. No wonder she was so desperate, this was the only way she had to be able to get rid of him. What a mess she was in. 

“Help me out, Sukuna.” Her eyes begged me for mercy, I couldn't say “no” to that. 

“Come in, it better be as good as in Dubai,” I threatened her as soon as I let her in. 

“I will do my best,” she promised. 

Despite being shorter than me by a head and looking so tender in that outfit that left almost nothing to the imagination, this little shit pushed me against the bed with all her might. In my own house! She had already seen me naked and knew how I behaved during sex. So it was easy for her to undo the knot of my shower gown and unwrap me as if my hard cock was her birthday gift. She didn't hesitate to take it all the way into her mouth. Each suck and lick felt desperate. I knew she wanted to make me come, so she could secure tomorrow's victory, but sometimes the idea of her being really desperate to have my cock inside her for lustful pleasure tickled my brain. 

“You really want to impress me, don't you?” I asked her as I took off my robe completely. 

I pushed her towards my crotch, hugging her by the shoulders with my leg to show her how flexible I had become since she had taught me floor techniques. The splashes coming from her wet lips, her eyes watering from having my monstrosity in her little mouth and her hands holding my thighs to keep her balance were a sublime image. I could come just seeing her in that state. 

I pulled her to me with one tug to do what I had wanted to do to her since I saw her through the peephole. I ripped off her thin pink shirt to reveal the pink lace bra that matched her thong. “She came prepared,” I thought with a satisfied smile. I usually like to remove the bra because it gets in the way, but I decided to leave this one on because it was cute. The little flowers looked so pretty over her beautiful breasts. I yanked down her skirt and reached into her slutty cave. She clung to my body as she moaned my name as praise. My fingertips rubbed her sensitive clit as they bathed in the natural lube. Y/n struggled against her own body to maintain her composure.

She took possession of my body as soon as she climbed into my lap. I thought the fun was finally going to begin, but she decided to keep playing with my senses. She took possession of my cock to rub the tip against her clit in slow circles. I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning like a bitch in heat. 

“Don't be shy, I want to hear you,” she asked before gently twisting my nipple. 

My eyes popped open as I felt her fingers against my sensitive spots. I think it's the first time I've ever been touched like that. She smiled as she realized the same thing I did. She approached me slowly to kiss my nipples gently. We had only slept together once, and she already knew my body better than I did. Oh Naoya, he really fumbled the bag. Poor bastard. She flicked her tongue and gently sucked on my erect nipples from the cold of the night. I closed my eyes to enjoy the tickling that ran mercilessly through my body as I moaned for her.

“How cute. Your cheeks match your hair and my underwear,” she whispered in my ear as she saw the blush that covered my face. 

She shoved my cock in her all at once, bringing back memories of Dubai. This time, my back was no longer suffering from being pushed against a small wooden table. She rode my cock like a pro, making sure the tip had the biggest impact point. Her breasts bounced in my face, her moans were music to my ears and her hips were moving to the beat of a forbidden song. I wrapped my arms around her waist to hold her close to me and made sure my cock went all the way into her cervix. 

She kissed me passionately without ceasing to impact her hips against me. It was wild, rushed, and powerful. She pressed my body against hers like a snake mercilessly choking its prey. I had no intention of fighting her, I could die in between her thighs and I would be so fucking happy.

I wasn't going to last any longer if we kept going like this. My mind kept repeating the national anthem to last longer in heaven, but it wasn't working. Y/n knew what she was doing, and she was doing a great fucking job. My cock was high and wet in her pussy, I wanted more, I needed more of her. My hips were moving on automatic to penetrate her fully. Her tits bouncing in my face was the best sight I have ever witnessed in my life. Y/n felt so tight and delicious, I was about to explode. Before I could help it, I came in her. My cock was slowly pumping her full. 

“Are you done?” She smirked. 

“Shut up,” I sighed tiredly. She pulled away from me to go to the bathroom to clean herself. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the bed. “I'm not done with you yet.” 

”Huh?” She asked, confused. 

“I may be satisfied, but you're not,” I told her before spreading her legs apart.

I wasn't used to eating pussy from hookers, they just made me cum and left, but seeing my coach's face all flushed and surprised made my night. She really didn't expect me to go deep into her body to finish what I had started. I dipped my head into her crotch to part her lips with my tongue. She stifled a moan and closed her legs at the tickle that ran down her back. Her thighs pressed against my face, drowning me in her delicious pussy. Y/n arched her back to bring her clit closer to my nose and thrust my tongue deeper inside her. 

It was sour and sweet at the same time. I didn’t like the taste much, but I was a fan of the texture. I looked like a fucking junkie once I got used to the slimy sensation on my tongue. She pulled me by the hair to suck on her clit. I opened my mouth wide to eat the food God blessed me tonight. Y/n looked like a hot mess and I loved it. She moaned, writhed and called my name with lust. 

“Just like that!” she moaned as she pushed my face, a sign that I was doing a good job. 

I kept doing exactly what she asked until she squirted on my face. I jerked away confused as to what had happened. I wiped my face to see Y/n lying there like a happy starfish, arms, and legs spread across the bed tired. 

“Good job,” She moaned in satisfaction with her eyes closed. 

I was going to answer, but the doorbell grabbed my attention. It must be the prostitute. I wrapped my robe around me again and grabbed my wallet from the nightstand. I didn't want to waste time with her, I wanted to go to sleep soon so I could be well rested for the fight. I opened the door to find a blonde girl who reminded me of a bitch I know. 

“Hi, handsome. It's nice to meet you, I always see you on the sports channel and…” 

“Look, thanks for coming, but let's cancel. Someone already emptied my balls. Take 100 dollars and leave,” I said, throwing the bill at her and slamming the door in her face. 

I went back to the room only to find y/n completely asleep under the covers. She looked exhausted, I shouldn't wake her up. I sat next to her on the bed and sighed tiredly. My horniness was decreasing, and I questioned whether I should let her sleep or ask her to go home. I looked at her again. She looked very comfortable and content tucked into me in the wet covers from our fluids. 

“Looks like I'll be sleeping in the guest room,” I thought out loud.

Next →

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[thesagesjournal]

[Birthday] Oz (April 27th, 2025)

Twitter thread | Bluesky thread

...It's you. Worry not, you didn't wake me. I was just thinking about you. I expected you to come and congratulate me first thing in the morning, so I decided to wait for your arrival. ...I have come to know you better, if only this much.

Birthday Morning

Oz: Sage, why are you out of breath? Happy… birthday? Ah, I see.

Oz: …You came running to wish me a happy birthday first thing in the morning even though I, myself, have forgotten?

Oz: I must thank you, Akira.

Voicelines

Oz: Am I excited for my birthday? Not particularly. I have lived a long life. Even if another year passes by, I will remain the same. …However, I cannot overlook your efforts in preparing a celebration for me. Thank you, Sage.

Arthur: Master Oz! This sash is for you. It’s apparently a tradition in the Master Sage’s world to don one that says “Birthday Boy” for your special day, so I had Chloe show me how to make one. I know birthdays aren’t a big deal to you, but would you be willing to wear it for me?

Cain: Happy birthday, Oz! …Whoa, you're giving me these chestnuts, caramels, and canelé​ as thanks? It's okay, I'll pass. …No, really! H-Hey, Arthur? Does Oz seem weird to you? …He had too much to drink, but you gave him water, so he’ll be good in 30 minutes? Alright then...

Riquet: I made a kusudama for you just like the ones the Master Sage told me about! Hmm, I think we’re supposed to cheer when it bursts open so… Hip-hip-hooray! Happy birthday, Oz!

Snow: Sage, have you seen our dear Oz? We’re planning a grand celebration for him, but our birthday boy is nowhere to be found. Hmm… Did he figure us out and go into hiding? If so, we might have to pivot from a birthday party to a manhunt…

White: Would you like to join our grand birthday surprise for Oz? ...Oh, we’re simply planning to shower him with flowers as soon as he steps into the lounge. However, we can’t hide there since he’ll sense us, so the plan is to make a mad dash for it as soon as he comes in sight!

Mithra: Oz, let’s have a fight to the death. Wouldn’t it be an incredible story to say I defeated you on your birthday? …Huh? We can’t fight because there’s a party happening? How could that possibly be more important than me?

Owen: Oz often comes to break up our fights, but recently, he’s begun giving us candy too. I don’t know what he's scheming, but I don’t need his charity. Today’s his birthday, isn’t it? Well then, he can suck on his paltry stash of penny sweets alone.

Bradley: It’s Oz’s birthday, ain’t it? Whaddaya say we sneak into his castle and give it some festive flair? I can getcha there, but after that we can just do our own thing. …Heh, like I’d tell ya what I’m plannin’. It’s called “surprise” for a reason, ya know?

Faust: Happy birthday, Oz. Do you remember our last joint lesson? Shino took quite well to your more hands-on style of teaching. Since then, I’ve occasionally incorporated some of that into my own lesson plans. Let’s keep doing our best, from one teacher to another.

Shino: Happy birthday, Oz. After your party with the Central wizards is over, you should come to Shylock’s bar. I’m gathering all the members of “Jet Black Dawn” to make a toast for you. It’s fun to reunite every now and then, right?

Heathcliff: Arthur asked all the younger wizards to help him plan a birthday surprise for Lord Oz, but I’m worried he won’t like or appreciate it. Now that we’re this far into the plan though, I think we’ll just have to go through with it. Alright, you can do this, Heathcliff!

Nero: The Central kiddos have been buzzin’ around all day ‘cause of Oz’s birthday. …Whoa, did Cain just slap Oz on his back? And Riquet keeps tuggin’ on him, too. …They’re braver than me, for sure… But, I guess that’s just how much they trust each other.

Shylock: I have plenty of your favourite alcohol in stock today, so please, feel free to indulge to your heart’s content, Oz. …It doesn’t stop there, though. Once we get to the bar, I plan to show off my skills as the owner. I hope to keep you entertained all night long.

Murr: Ahaha, I look like a bagworm, right? I was hidin’ in Oz’s room to surprise him for his birthday, but he caught me right away! It’s kinda fun danglin’ around all tied up like this, though! Do you wanna give it a try, Master Sage?

Chloe: Ha~ppy bir~thday, Lord Oz~! …Wait, Lord Oz!? Did you hear that!? Rustica suggested I make a song for your birthday since you like music so much, so I've been practicing for it. ...You want to hear more? Well, if you say so! Here I go! This is “Oz’s Birthday Song”!

Rustica: Lord Oz, you put such care into each and every one of your conversations. Every word you utter is full of sincerity, beauty, and strength. And there is no better proof of that than the joy on Chloe’s face when you praised him. Thus, I wish you a very happy birthday.

Figaro: Y’know Oz, I really do enjoy our chats together. …I’m the only one who ever does any talking? Ahaha, you’re not wrong about that. But you always listen so attentively that I always have a good time regardless. Speaking of, why don’t we have a little meet-up tonight?

Rutile: Happy birthday, Lord Oz. …Oh, are these roasted chestnuts for me? Why, thank you. That’s so kind of you, even though it’s your birthday today. …Children need to eat? Oh, I get these caramels and canelé​, too? Wait, are you dru— No, it couldn’t be. Well, thank you again!

Lennox: Happy birthday, Lord Oz. Thank you for taking care of the sheep that wandered into your room the other day. Since then, they’ve been trying to go back… I think they enjoy the warmth of the fireplace and the comfort of your peaceful presence.

Mitile: Oww! I pricked myself again… Oh, Lord Oz! I gathered all these chestnuts for you, but removing the burrs is harder than I thought it would be… Wow! You finished the rest of them in an instant!

[brighttears]

Cleardune Chapter 2: Little Lamb

Joel Miller x f!reader

no physical description, no use of y/n

Summary: Joel is there again at the saloon in the morning, and you try to be subtle about setting up another meeting. Later on, the two of you end up talking for hours, and it’s delightfully refreshing. But then, you have to go back home, late to fix a meal for your father. He’s not happy about it. Usually, you’re passive, but today, you’re simply fed up. It escalates, and breaks your heart. But you’ve already set up to see Joel again tonight, and in the time between seeing him again, you become determined to get in his pants. He seems to have the same idea. 

Word count: 5.7

Warnings: argument with your father including a startle with hitting his hand on the table, pet names (sweetheart, darling, little lady, honey), mention of reader’s mother’s death, smut tease

Series masterlist

—

Despite the absolute delight of seeing Joel again—your entire body language perking up when he finally walks through those saloon doors—meeting his eyes is almost a challenge. He’d been in your dreams, alright; up close and bare with his hands all over you, that’s what he was. They were unexpectedly vivid, and the images keep flashing in your head whenever you look at him. 

“Somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart?” He asks with a smirk under twinkling eyes. 

Yes, you are, in the most sinful of ways, and you’re only making it worse by calling me that. “Me? Oh, no.” You chuckle, damning your awkwardness. Betraying you are your hands as they aggressively polish clean glasses while Joel leans casually over the bar with an untouched glass of whisky in his hands. And, god, he’s staring. You’d thought that that would have you over the moon, but you’re blushing like a rose, still having trouble just looking at him. After a moment of just those eyes, he stands down. “Alright.” He smirks, dropping his gaze down to his glass. 

It’s obvious he knows you’re not being truthful, but at least he’s not trying to pry right here at the bar. If you were at all able to tell him what’s on your mind, the last place in the world it could be would be here, with this, admittedly small, but audience nonetheless, in the saloon. The way they all occasionally glance your way tells you that this is a show for them; not that you could blame them—they’ve all known you for years, and you yourself know that you’ve never reacted to someone like this. Perky and nervous and blushing and actually smiling. You can’t help it. At this point, you may as well just be at Joel’s mercy. Just at his existence, at his presence. You’re as gone as a leaf in a creek. 

Another issue is the jacket. You don’t dare bring it out right now, slam the big leather thing on the bar to announce to all of these men that something between you two happened last night that left you with a piece of his clothing. Still, you have to return it. Dare you set up another meeting with him right here? How are you supposed to hide this? You’re out of practice. Thankfully, Joel seems to have a tactic in mind. 

“So, you still want those ridin’ lessons? We could go out to the barn today once you’re done here.”

Thankful, you smile, and play along. “Yes, I would love that. I’m just nervous about my father, he doesn’t want me riding, but it’s a skill I have to learn. It’s very kind of you to teach me.” You speak quiet enough to feign secretiveness, but make sure just about everyone in the saloon can hear. You know they’ll all have some understanding. They know your father, and though none dare to touch the subject with him, everyone agrees that it’s a necessary skill, even for a woman. And, here is this stranger, either foolish or brave enough to take it on. 

“Well then, he won’t find out. Just somethin’ we gotta make happen.” 

You smile. “Well, he should be here soon.”

“Good. I’ll meet you at the barn, then.” Joel nods with knowing eyes, and you nod back. With that, he leaves, the glass of whiskey still full on the bar. 

You realize now that this is a secret, you and Joel, whatever you are. It’s exciting, and it honestly kind of turns you on. A secret romance—you hope, at least. He hasn’t made any moves, really, but… the way he looked at you last night, the way he held you… a man doesn’t do that to just any woman. Maybe you’re reading into things, you can’t tell, you’re too swept up in it. 

You have to do something. Something. Hell, you already called him good looking a couple times now, and, come to think of it, it’s gotta be obvious in the way you stare at him. He said just the same about you, too, and the way he was just staring at you—this has to be something. The beginning of something. Yes, you decide, it is, and your heart skips just at the very thought of it. 

You’re nearly losing control of yourself now, fearing that when you see Joel today you’ll be all blushes and awkward glances down. But before you can get too much in your head about it, your father walks down the stairs, signaling your leave. Much earlier than expected, but, obviously, you’re not one to complain. 

“Hey, pa.” You offer a small smile at him. 

“Yep.” Is his short, gruff reply as you switch spots around the bar. 

Whatever, you tell yourself, hiding the vexed look on your face and shoving down the disappointment that should have quit coming around a long time ago. You have something nice to think about now, though, someone who can’t stand to see you cold, who wants to teach you about horses, who holds you gently, who actually talks to you. Who cares. 

After rushing through chores, you make your escape out the window again, Joel’s jacket folded under your arm, and meet him waiting again in the barn. 

“Sooner than I expected.” He smiles, leaning against the wall with that shining smile of his. It’s very bright today, his crows feet tight and cheeks plump. 

“I know, me too.” You approach him with a smile, unfolding his jacket from your arm and holding it out to him. “Here’s your jacket.”

“Thanks.” He takes it, still smiling. 

“Did you—were you really, planning on teaching me how to ride a horse?”

“Well,” he sighs, “not really, was just tryna get you away from there without raising any… suspicion.” He smirks. “But I can, if you want.”

You consider. Being taught how to ride a horse was not exactly on your mind either, and it would be the more responsible move, but you don’t really care. You just want to see him, and it warms your heart that that's all he really wanted to do, too. 

“Well, we could,” you shift on your feet and fidget with your hands.

“Well, do you want to?”

“I mean…” something in you is too nervous to be truthful, though you’re not sure why. Joel chuckles in response, “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. We can just spend some time together. I’d like to do that.”

With that, you’re back to beaming. “Me too.”

“Then, that’s what we’ll do.” He smiles back. 

You spend all afternoon in the barn, just talking and laughing, first standing, then leaning, then sitting on bales of hay, and, when a few men came by to do something or other with their horses, you retreated to the pen in the back. Joel stuck a piece of straw in his mouth and you laughed and he smiled and it was like the sun. The conversation flows smoother than butter, and it reminds you of how much you missed people, missed talking, missed friends. 

Maybe you’re easy prey, but, every time you doubt yourself, your heart or maybe another lonely bit of you pushes it aside. What are you supposed to do? He’s handsome and he’s kind and funny and he cares and he won’t be here long, and you love talking to him, so, you will. It’s not even anything of real substance, mostly shooting the shit, stories about town and the country, misadventures, gossip about strangers to each other, all lightweight, giggling like kids. It winds around paths you can’t keep track of and that don’t really matter, and like a new stream through a nook in the sandy desert, it fills you and quenches a thirst that’s been there so long you hadn’t even realized how long it’d been. 

As the conversation continues, all the way until the sun is in front of you and no longer above, the two of you have ended up wandering closer and closer until you’re just about shoulder to shoulder, sitting against the barn wall. You’d think those butterflies in your chest would get tired, and, to be fair, they’ve calmed some, feeling more and more comfortable with him, but they pop up to dance at every touch of his shoulder to yours. 

At the tail end of a laugh together, there’s a knocking beside you, and you whip your head to see the hairy face of Ben Marley. He’d been a close family friend when you were younger, but your dad turned a cold shoulder to the whole world when your mother left it. Now, he’s mostly a passing smile and nod. 

“Your father’s lookin’ for you,” he says, tone one to tell that he’s warning you rather than here to drag you to him by the scruff of your neck. Still, your heart jumps to its feet, and you follow suit. 

“Does he know I’m here?”

Ben shakes his head. “Nope. But get goin’ ‘fore he does, little lamb.” At the nickname you haven’t heard in years, you pop a small smile. 

“Thank you,” you give him a sincere look, and he nods with a smile before disappearing back into the barn. You turn to Joel then with a regretful one, “I’m sorry, but I’ve really got to go.” 

“I understand.” He nods, keeping a serene smile. 

After smiling back, you switch your head to the barn door, then think twice, and make your way to the fence line. 

“Where’re you goin’?” Joel chuckles behind you. 

“Well, I figure if he catches me, it might look like I was—going on a walk or something,” you explain as you start climbing through the fence, probably not making yourself look all that attractive or graceful in the process, but then there’s a hand on your elbow, and you turn to meet Joel’s gaze. It stops you in your tracks, because there's something in his eyes, something about his parted lips and the breath that leaves them before he says, “I wanna see you again tonight.” His Adam apple bobs, and you realize that he’s nervous. 

You blink. “Yes.” Is all that comes out, because this is the first time you’ve seen that from him. It makes him look young, like just a boy. Just a boy that wants to stay out late with a girl. 

He smiles, only half of his normal demeanor coming back, before lowering his voice. “Back here, after dark.”

“Back here, after dark.” You repeat, and he nods. 

“Good.” He finally smiles again, but you’re stuck until he gives your elbow a quick, gentle shove. “You better get lost before your daddy catches you with me.” It gets a chuckle out of you before you finally turn to less than gracefully stumble the rest of the way out from the fence, then making quick steps back towards the saloon, not even looking back, because you’ll see him tonight. 

Two nights in a row, meeting in the dark with a handsome cowboy. Not just any handsome cowboy, but Joel Miller. Sweetheart, gentleman, a man that makes words come out of you easy, that makes your belly ache from laughing, that you hadn’t even realized you’d spent half the day with, because time is different when you’re with him, the air is different with him, you’re different with him. 

You hadn’t bothered to hide how miserable you’ve really gotten these past few years. Life was fun when you were young, you were so full of love, so excited about life, big dreams with bigger hugs to give. And then momma got sick, and within a few weeks, the whole world fell apart. And soon enough, you had just about no one. Poppa got quiet. Real quiet. Got into fights. Told Ben not to show his face at your house again, you woke up to him yelling one night, and Ben did what he was told. Your father created a cold air around him that froze your life over, too, and ever since you left school, you’ve been pretty much alone. Reflecting on it, Henry the Drunk is about the closest you’ve had to a friend in years. It’s a sad and sobering thought as you make your way back home. 

You are, in fact, easy prey. Head over heels for the first man to give you a real conversation. But damn it all, what else have you got? You’re a goner, what else have you to do but fall?

“Forgot about dinner.” Pa grunts, anger in his voice, not even looking at you as you pass through the saloon doors. 

“Sorry, pa.” You reply quickly, going straight upstairs. 

Your hands are swift as you start in the kitchen, heating up the soup already ready in its pot, sawing at the bread that he should be able to saw himself just fine, all these thoughts swirling in your mind, before you slam your palms down on either side of the cutting board. 

You feel like you’re losing your mind. Part of you pulling you down a rabbit hole of doubt, timidness, and anger towards your circumstances, the other pulling you up into the daylight of Joel and disinterest for just about everything else. 

Is he playing with you? Fooling you? How much will it hurt when he goes? Is a few days worth that heartache? Why would he like you in the first place? Are you really anything special at all? 

You deserve this! You like him. He likes you. Can’t it be that simple? 

But you really like him. More than you’ve liked anyone before. 

It’s only been a day since you met him! Easy prey. Little lamb. Damn it all to hell, you’re defenseless. 

But he’s no wolf or lion, no slobbering maw, just a sweet smile, gentle hands, a jacket around your cold shoulders. 

“Hell were you doin’?” Your fathers voice interrupts, you too lost in thought to hear the creaky stairs behind you. Within a few seconds, the bread is sliced and lukewarm soup in a bowl. 

“Sorry pa, I was just taking a walk, it’s just so nice out today and I—” you start to explain as you set the table, but he stops you with a stern tone. “Only few things I ask you for. I give you a roof over your head, food, a job, but you think you can go mess around in town and ignore your responsibilities like an ungrateful—”

“Ungrateful?” 

Your own tone surprises you. Not quite harsh, but still far from the passive tone you’re both used to from you. His eyes are almost wide. 

You take a calming breath, though you can feel yourself boil. “I have done everything you have told me to do the second you tell me, for years. And I have smiled at you every day, never met with one back, and not one of my smiles have been genuine. Pa, I've been your maid for years, not a question asked. Not a single request. I waste my life in that bar, I’m wasting my life, pa, at your request. I make your meals—I do everything. What have I done to make you see me as ungrateful?” Your voice starts to quaver as the boiling water bubbles and spits, and you take a step towards him. “I am your daughter, but I’m treated like—”

“Not another damn word.” The plate and cup jump at his fist on the table, his other hand pointing an almost shaking finger at your chest, his tone sharp as a blade, and you freeze. 

You’ve never been quite this scared of him before, but you’ve never raised your voice like this, either. 

The two of you just stand there for a moment, shaking for different reasons. 

“You will do as I say.”

“But I do—”

“Not another damn word!” His volume rattles you into a seat at the table, and when he leans in, his bared teeth look slobbery, and you feel like a lamb. “You get no say. Because you are my daughter, I raised you, and you do not get to raise your voice at me.” His deep breath is shaky, finger right in your face. “I am out bustin’ my ass every goddamn day to keep this house,” he lies, but you know better than to say a word, “I am the one that keeps you alive, rather than lettin’ you go dancing out for any starvin’ cowboy that comes through here, or rottin’ out there in the desert, and you have the nerve to talk to me like that? Tell me I’m a bad father? Well, if you hadn’t noticed, I’m the only one you got left. Your momma is gone, so alls you have is me, and you will show me the respect I deserve for puttin’ up with you.” 

It hurts like an iron ball swinging right into your chest, and a tear falls within seconds of his last words. There’s not a hint of remorse in his eyes, though you search desperately for it, for a whiff of love left for you in them, but they’re simply cold. For a moment, you feel empty. Defeated. 

“Now get back down in that damn bar and you stay there till I tell you you can go. Wasted too much time already fixin’ one simple goddamn meal.” He sits down like he hadn’t just broken your heart, and you leave like you don’t have to clasp both hands over your face to quiet the sobs. 

You pause at the bottom of the staircase, squatting before the door to the bar, hands still pressed over your mouth, muffling the sobs while the tears pour. 

You’d had a feeling he hated you, but he hadn’t proven it until now. Your own flesh and blood, the one who created you, helped deliver you, name you, watched you grow. You really are nothing but a maid to him. 

After a moment, deep breaths wash out between your fingers, brow now creased in near rage. 

Fuck your father. Fuck this saloon. Fuck this passive girl you’ve become. You’d rather rot in the desert than rot in this town. 

As you push open the door, slapping tears off your face, you place yourself behind the bar, and make a decision. 

You’re leaving. Someway, somehow, you’re leaving. 

—

The sun is mostly set by the time your father comes back down, heavy steps and a glare on you as he comes around the bar. “Supper.” Is all he says, and you clench your teeth as you rush around him and up the stairs. 

You slam your way through the meal, teeth still clenched. But as soon as it’s done and a few slices of bread are shoved in your mouth, you’ll be gone out the window, on your way to Joel.

He is the only bit of warmth left in your world, your one clean breath of air, your one escape from this dead end life you’ve found yourself leading. The one thing that’s yours, untouched by the soot of your past. And he’s waiting for you, out in that barn. 

Another thing you decided while standing behind that bar—you’re going to fuck Joel Miller. 

—

Your hair is combed and blouse clean, jeans on just in case Petunia is on the docket tonight as you climb through your window. The sun has already set and air chilled, but you leave your coat in hopes of having Joel’s leather around your shoulders again. 

There is the fact of simply missing that feeling, but the added bonus of getting that piece of his clothing out of the way. You are not one to woo people, you’ve got no real idea of how to do this properly, but you know clothes do come off. Your steps are swift, breaths deep and calming as you make your way to you and Joel’s new meeting spot. 

The nerves last merely a moment more once he comes into view, his profile framed by moonlight as he leans against Petunia's stall. The air feels easier to breathe again, the weight falls from your shoulders, and your frame eases as you cross the threshold. 

“Hi.” Is your simple greeting, a smile on your face. 

“Evenin’, little lady,” he grows a smile back, coming off of the wall to meet you. “Almost thought you weren’t gonna show.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs. “Well, thought you might’ve gotten your fill of me.”

“Gotten my fill?” You chuckle. “No.” You walk right up to him, smiling unabashedly. “Nowhere near it.”

“Well, good.” He replies after a moment. There’s only about a foot separating you, and you can tell that he feels it by the pause before he speaks again. “So, what do you want to do tonight, sweetheart?” By the smirk twisting his cheek, he must know what he’s doing when he calls you that. 

But you raise him one, “Well, what would you like me to do?”

He lets out a quiet breath, and your heart applauds your brain for coming up for that one right before the red thing faints. “Well… you can do whatever you damn well please, darlin’,” he smiles lightly, a sight that’s become a good friend in and of itself, “but what would you like to do?”

Are you teasing me? “Well…” you clasp your hands, trying to find another thing to throw at him. I’d like to do you, is the first thing that comes to mind, but no way would you survive saying that right to his face. You take a small step forward, working on closing the gap as you think, smile tilted up at him. “I—” Before you can get anything more than that out, your lips are shut by his, having been grabbed up by his arm around your waist, his palm on your cheek, fingers in your hair. 

After the most loathsomely short of moments, he pulls back, letting go of you completely and taking a few steps back. “Jesus, I’m sorry,” he rushes out, taking a breath, voice full of remorse. 

“What?” You nearly stutter out, heart pounding so hard you can almost hear it in your ears. 

“I’m sorry I—that was, damn I just fucked up just then,” he smooths his hand up his forehead and lowers his gaze to the floor, placing his hands on his hips. 

“No, no,” you rush forward, almost pressing yourself back into him to find his eyes with your own. “Joel, I want you to kiss me, please,” it starts off fervent but falls back on sheepishness, almost quiet when you finish, “kiss me again,”

There’s a beat, and you watch his face as his lips part with a look you’ve never seen. His pupils, you find, are much bigger than they’ve been before. Your heart starts to sputter its pounds as you feel his hand, softer now, placed on your waist, and your eyes can’t help but fall closed as his other hand cups your cheek, gently, and then, just as gentle, finally, his lips press against yours. 

It’s soft, and warm, and you feel the breath from his nose, and you’re so close, finally, and everything is warm and buzzing as your hands fall onto his arms, snaking up to his shoulders, grabbing at his lapel and curling into his hair. Another breath comes from his nose as his grip tightens in a way that tickles that spot between your legs, but then he pulls away, leaving only inches between your lips. You watch his eyes skip around your face, and you stare back, lost and amazed and hungry. 

“You know how beautiful you are?” He asks in a whisper. There’s no telling how red you must be right now, especially once his fingers start to trail down your cheek, his eyes following his touch like he’s studying the details of your skin. “You might be the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.” You’re putty in his hands, few thoughts at all in your head as you simply stare back. “C’mere.” Joel whispers, like you’re not already in his arms, but then he brings you closer, crossing his arms around your back, and kisses you again. 

This is the first time you’ve enjoyed a kiss—not that you’ve done all that much of it, but you always thought it was overrated, all wet and rushed and gross. Maybe just because it's only been with townie boys your age. But Joel knows what he’s doing. It’s leisurely, but not a second of it makes you think he’s not enjoying it just as much as you are. He tastes so good, and smells like leather and something else, and that something else on his tongue, too, you realize, is just him. It’s like nothing else. It tastes and smells like… home. At this sudden realization, you pull back slightly, but then you’re magnetized back to his lips, and Joel sweeps his hand through your hair, cupping the back of your head. 

Stars are exploding in front of your closed eyes, his beard on your palm as it runs over his cheeks, the other gripping tight his jacket’s thick lapel, holding on like he might just slip away. You’ve never felt anything like this, not even close. It feels like everything you’ve ever wanted, somehow, all of that in your mind culminating into this one moment. Nothing has ever felt so right. If you’re not careful, you’re sure the words I love you would slip right out of your mouth. But if they were to right now, they’d be met with Joel’s tongue, and now there are very little thoughts in your head at all as his hand slides down, crossing over your back to grip your hip, pulling you ever closer to him, tongue twisting with yours. You’re melting into him, but all you want is to be closer—more, you want more of him. You want to know more, about him, how his body feels, how it… looks. How it’d feel against as you lay in bed on a lazy morning, and how it’d feel to dance with him, one hand in yours with your feet swinging in unison and him smiling down at you. You want to be a part of his life, and he yours. You want to be with him for the rest of your life. 

He is all you can taste, all you can smell, but you can’t get enough of him, can’t touch enough of him. You grab at him, snaking your hands under his jacket, over his shoulder, up his neck and into his hair, cupping his cheek, pulling his face closer. But then he pulls away yet again, keeping his arms around you, but enough for a breath, and your eyes meet. 

“Darlin’…” he whispers. “Have you got some extra time for me tonight?”

“Yes,” you reply, catching your breath in the process, eyes now on those lips, wet from yours. Yours. 

My night is yours, Joel, I have all the time in the world for you, just for you. All my time, it’s yours. Please. 

“You wanna, uh, come on—come on to where I’m stayin’?” His usual casual confidence is wafted by a sort of nervousness in his low tone, but all it does is make your heart beat faster. 

“Yes.” You answer immediately, still a bit out of breath.

“I’m just over at uh—”

“Stowie’s?”

“Yeah, Stowie’s.” He breathes out a chuckle. “You sure do know this town by heart, huh?”

“Yeah.” You can’t quite muster a chuckle back, a bit out of sorts now. I want to know you by heart. 

“Well, there’s a whole lot more you don’t know, honey.” He smiles, and you’re almost dizzy. 

“Teach me?” You’re impressed by your own quip once again, but you have a feeling it’s not your brain talking anymore.

“It would be my pleasure.” He smiles, then kisses you again, short and punctuated by, “Anything you wanna know.”

I would like for you to teach me how to fuck. How to fuck you. How to be fucked by you. You don’t say any of this, of course, but your eyes must betray you, by the way he looks at you and then grabs your hand, leading you close behind him as he walks to the Inn.  Once inside, he tips his hat at Winona, the owner, and you flash her a pleading smile, gratefully accepting a knowing smirk and small nod. She was the one who bothered to teach you about the birds and the bees in the first place; you could always count on Winona. But, once inside Joel’s room, all thoughts leave your head once again when his lips are immediately back on yours, but hungrier this time. His hands are on your hips, then sliding up your sides, and then pulling your body against his. You meet him easily with just as much hunger, it filling you as you pull and push against one another, almost tripping on each other's feet. His leather thuds on the ground, and then you know the game is on. The buttons on each of your shirts cause a mess of fingers between your bodies, all the while backing into the bed until the edge hits the back of Joel’s knees, and suddenly you’re on top of him, struggling to keep up with holding yourself up, his shirt, and the compulsion to maul his face. Joel seems to be having just as much trouble, and you feel suddenly like you’re just a couple of animals, tearing each other apart as the balloon of tension is finally popped, triggering a torrent of lust.

[boatem-probler]

It's Triple Feature Night in... Tokyo Soul!

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / You Are Here! / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / Wrap-Up

There are THREE days in this report, because I was speeding through them so I could get to the Lizzie Episodes. Also Grian isn't in most of these ones, he's too busy being locked in the basement dungeon.

This report contains mentions of: slavery "jokes", death, violence, blood, stalking, sexual harassment.

Previously on Tokyo Soul:

ALL HAIL THE MOON LORD

This Time...

Episode 16 – BUY A TAURTIS!

I’m just gonna cut right to the chase – Sam is doing a full-on master-slave roleplay thing with the Taurtis clones, and it is not played as fetishy at all, even jokingly, it is really just. Slavery. It’s a whole thing. It’s not funny. The whole episode is sort of about it. Sorry.

Anyway, there are now four Taurtises, the new one is Taurissa. And there’s a Taurtis626 in the chat now? Coming back to this later because I think I figured it out. Taurtis00 found a sailor fuku in a barn and changed her name to Taurissa00. Trans rights. Taurtis69 is still Taurtis69, not the one who exploded, a different one. And Taurtis626 just showed up overnight. Everything clear now? Great!

Anyway Taurtis seems to be attracted to Taurissa.

Sam claims to not know where Grian is.

On the way to school, they find Jerry in the park. He’s another Taurtis clone, but sort of wall-eyed. Also he types in a manner that makes it clear he is meant to be stupid in an ableist caricature way.

Sam tries to auction off some of the Taurtis clones at school. Jamberite asks which ones are good for experimenting. I have no idea what is meant to be up with her.

Oh Geode’s smile is even wider now. But at least his eye is back.

Anyway he and Dr. Nurse MD each buy a Taurtis, before Señor Loro comes in to bust things up. Everybody scatters.

Except Nurse MD. Who apparently has DONE SOMETHING LIKE THIS BEFORE?? Señor Loro is talking to him like he’s an alcoholic. Eventually Nurse MD relents.

Anyway. The chupacabra fucking Got Tori. Sam chases him out of the school. Everyone goes back to the classroom to poke Tori’s head with sticks. Señor Loro walks in on this. He tells the class not to tell anyone this happened, because they “don’t have insurance”. He goes off to find a substitute teacher.

Sam and Taurtis decide that Jerry should be the substitute.

Episode 17 – JERRY THE TEACHER!

Jerry teaches the class about JerryKats. They are made out of Jerry and Cats, apparently.

“This is the most I’ve learned since we’ve been at this school, to be honest.” – Taurtis

Dr. Nurse makes Taurtis put on a sexy nurse outfit. He says he wanted to make Grian wear it. He also says it’s his fetish. Oh god and now Kurokuma’s here WHY. There is a limit to how much of this one guy on the internet can take, you know.

Anyway, basically, the “lesson” is Dr. Nurse MD letting this creepy old man harass Taurtis in front of the class.

After class, they run into Jorje the goat, and attempt to warn him about the chupacabra, but he’s more interested in flirting with Jerry. Señor Loro shows up and “confiscates” Jerry.

Today is swimming day in gym class! Time to see if all those Taurtis clones are still in the pool! They are not!

Episode 18 – TAURTIS IS DEAD!

They all go into the locker room to change. In Taurtis’s locker there is a note. Written by Taurtis. That he doesn’t remember writing. It says:

Taurtis is freaking the fuck out.

Taurissa claims she can’t get in the pool because she is having a baby.

Igbar is just having a great fucking time swimming.

In Professor Geode’s class, Sam and Taurtis attempt to glean clues from Geode’s behavior to help them figure out if Taurtis is really a clone. Unfortunately, Geode’s behavior is rather erratic, because today is Teacher Inspection Day!

Geode has prepared an entire decoy classroom that he hurries all the students into before Señor Loro shows up. Geode is suddenly wearing a chef’s outfit and pretending to be a teacher called Mr. Dayman. Señor Loro is completely fooled, much to Taurtis’s chagrin.

Then they all go back to Geode’s actual classroom, where Geode confirms that Taurtis is, in fact, a clone. But he’s also constantly backpedaling and trying to deny the existence of clones outright, and Taurtis is clinging onto this.

Geode takes a blood sample from Taurtis by hitting him with a knife.

They run into Jerry after school, who says that “the goat” is dangerous and scary.

Episode 19 – TEACHER CHUPA!

It’s a new day! Taurissa made salmon for everyone. Taurtis tries to eat a cactus. Taurissa explodes. Jerry takes this as a sign that their time has almost come and they’re all doomed. He says their “expiration date” is near, and they need an “antidote” that Professor Geode made. They figure they can ask Geode about it at school.

Outside, Jorje is trying to find Jerry. He’s also wearing a school uniform now. Sam and Taurtis tell him that Jerry expired while Jerry sneaks out the back door.

Jorje is already in the school lobby (lobby? Do schools have lobbies?) when they get there. He’s talking to the chupacabra, who is wearing a suit. He’s the new teacher. Unclear if Jorje recognizes him as the chupacabra, but Señor Loro definitely doesn’t.

The boys go to Geode’s classroom. Geode’s smile, somehow, is Even Wider now. He also disappears mysteriously.

The bell rings, and it’s time for Mr. Chupa’s class! It’s a History class, apparently. Also, the classroom is full of candles and cushions arranged in a wonky circle with a dead-looking bonsai in the middle of it, so I’m sure nothing weird at all will happen in this class.

Mr. Chupa leads the class in a meditation exercise. The meditation is mostly about Goats. Also Sam and Taurtis accidentally tell Jorje where Jerry is hiding.

Episode 20 – DR NURSE MD!

Nurse MD has decided to dedicate this class to teaching his students why they will all be terrible parents. They’re doing the thing where everyone has to take care of an egg, but in pairs, and also they’re encouraged to try to break other people’s eggs.

The eggs are actual Minecraft eggs. You can imagine how this goes.

Taurtis626 explodes at the back of the class and Sam literally Does Not Notice.

Jerry is pretending to be a potted plant.

Dr. Nurse MD literally has to come out into the hallway and GET THEM because none of them noticed Taurtis626 exploding. He just walks up and asks them to explain why his classroom is covered in blood. It's the funniest fucking thing.

They rush to Geode’s class again, where he very slowly tells them about the antidote. Taurtis69 explodes (again). The bell rings and Geode refuses to tell them anything else, because they need to go to gym class.

The gym teacher isn’t there. It turns out that Señor Loro hired Jerry as the replacement gym teacher.

Episode 21 – GEODE’S DUNGEON!

Jerry is having some difficulties controlling the class and fending off Jorje at the same time, so nothing has really been done by the time the bell rings.

Taurtis hurries them along to Geode’s class, because he can “feel his innards bubbling”.

Geode announces that the class is going on a field trip, and will be playing a game on the way there called “don’t get caught by Señor Loro”. They get caught by Señor Loro as soon as they step outside the school. Geode quickly puts on a ginger fake mustache.

Geode takes them to the dump, and tells them whoever digs the most will get a prize! Taurtis is convinced Geode took them to the dump because that’s where the antidote is.

Sam: “I mean, I really doubt he cares, at all.” Taurtis: “We’re his creations, Sam, of course he cares about us!”

Sorry Taurtis but I think I’m with Sam on this one, actually. Sentences I never thought I would say.

Taurtis immediately falls down a hole. At the bottom of the hole are, apparently, “a bunch of heads”. Sam jumps down to see. The heads don’t appear to be from anyone we’ve seen, but they sure are a bunch of heads.

Meanwhile, Igbar finds a “demon sword”.

Dom gets angry about everyone destroying his home, because apparently he lives at the dump now.

Taurtis continues to ask Geode about the antidote. Geode tells him that the antidote is “safe at home” in his vault.

Sam tunnels into Dom’s house, which is inside a hollowed-out trash heap.

Sam and Taurtis sneak out of class to break into Geode’s house. They bring Dom with them, because Dom is good at parkour and would therefore, they reason, also be good at breaking and entering. They also pick up Jerry on the way.

Geode’s house is very mad scientist-core, it’s got the beakers, the metal floors, the big test tubes, the whole shebang. The test tubes are each labeled “Test Subject [number] – Failure”. There’s also another container labeled “Samples of Taurtis’s Garbage”.

Taurtis opens up a manhole cover on the floor leading to a basement with At Least One Skull in it. Sam and Dom go down the ladder on the other side of the room. Taurtis is stuck in a cage. They all work to break down the cage door while Sam and Taurtis argue over whose fault this is.

Taurtis: “You know I love jumping down mysterious holes.”

They unlock a door in Geode’s office with a lever from their house that Taurtis had in his pocket. Inside is a block of coal labeled “The Perfect Taurtis”.

They go down a different ladder into a larger basement. There’s a big door with a bunch of levers next to it and a sign reading “Secret Taurtis Gloop Vault – password: 1”. There are also more Taurtis clones, and one Dom clone for some reason? They’re theorizing it was the milk. None of the Taurtis clones are moving, but the Dom clone is. He’s Dom3 according to the chat. They break him out. He and Dom immediately start flirting with each other.

Sam inputs the password into the vault and the door opens, revealing chests full of “Icky, Sticky, Taurtis Gloop”. Taurtis drinks a bottle. Jerry isn’t looking too hot. Geode has arrived to “take care of his children”. They all hide behind various Taurtis clones.

One of the clones apparently wants to take Geode on a date. Geode responds, “Why, of course, Chosen One”. So, that’s a thing that’s happening I guess.

Geode notices the gloop vault has been opened. Everyone bolts. Geode’s house is connected to a train station, so they’re able to hide there while Geode runs past them. Geode yells that he is going to inform his superiors.

Jerry doesn’t feel so good. Taurtis gives him a bottle of goop. Jerry’s head swells up, but nothing else happens. Apparently he was able to hold the explosion in, like a sneeze.

Back at home, Taurtis wonders if he has a number, and figures out by typing in the chat that he is Taurtis2.

STAR WARS SPECIAL!!

Since Pug already covered these episodes in this post, I don't focus too much on what's actually happening moment-to-moment, but more so the little details and the things related to the ongoing Tokyo Soul, uh, "plot". So my "summary" probably won't make a whole lot of sense if you haven't either read Pug's summary or watched the episodes yourself.

You know, I had assumed the Star Wars Day Special would have been posted on May the 4th, but no, it was posted on January 19th. Is this like one of those “Christmas in July” things?

Taurtis claims that “Grian used to always make us breakfast”. Not sure when this is meant to have happened, since they rarely eat on screen in either series, from what I’ve seen, and also they’ve been in Tokyo for Exactly One Week by my count, but maybe this is just one of those things where one of these kids will just fully make something up about another one of them.

Grian: “Do you know what he did???” Taurtis: “He’s done a lot of things…”

This is the funniest possible description of Sam to me. He’s done a lot of things.

Grian doesn’t know who Jerry is. He says he heard a bunch of Taurtises talking and then he “kinda went to sleep for a while”. He was there when they rescued a bunch of clones from the pool, so he knows about the clones, but the last time there were more than two Taurtis clones in the house was Yesterday Morning, which sort of implies that Grian has been Depression Napping for at least an entire day. Just thought you guys might want to know that.

Grian also asks if Sam named Jerry that because of “what happened to me”. This Kills The Man.

Grian has a very blasé reaction to being told that Taurtis is dead and the one walking around with them is a clone, but I guess there’s a lot going on in his life.

He also doesn’t really react to hearing that Tori was killed. I guess even if she was a pretty reasonable person they still didn’t do a whole lot in her class.

Taurtis wants to join the Stormtroopers because they’re all clones.

Just wanna point out that they’re learning to use the Force from the chupacabra. How the hell did the chupacabra learn how to use the Force?

Sam lost the egg he was supposed to be taking care of for Dr. Nurse’s class and goes looking around for one to “borrow”, which means we get to see inside Igbar von Squid’s locker! He has emergency breathing helmets, a gun named “Humie Hunter”, some raw fish, and some kind of crystalline thing named “Hyooman Souls”, so that’s interesting.

Okay why does Dr. Nurse suddenly want Geode dead I wasn’t under the impression he was part of this plotline. We’ll see if that actually sticks around past this special I guess.

Dr. Nurse: “Boys, I am trusting you, with all of my idiotic heart.” Taurtis: “There’s your first mistake.”

It’s occurring to me that aside from a couple remarks about not wanting to be in a cramped closet with him, Grian’s venom towards Dr. Nurse is still mostly about his intelligence/teaching skills. Which, like, makes sense since Grian wasn’t there for the whole… nurse outfit thing. But it’s still a little disconcerting to me.

Not sure why Geode is Jabba the Hutt suddenly, but okay. I mean. Star Wars Special is why, but. You know what I mean (I don’t even know what I mean).

Mr. Chupa fully eats a student. Will it last? Vote now on your phones.

Theory: everyone is being pushed by some cosmic force into playing the role of whatever Star Wars character they’re dressed as. Wouldn’t be the strangest thing that’s happened in this town. Definitely wouldn’t be the strangest thing that will ever happen in this town, we haven’t even gotten to Cthulu yet.

Also all the stormtroopers are Taurtis clones. Sam and Grian kill a bunch of them in the process of climbing an AT-AT.

We’ll also have to see if the principal stays dead after the special because they kill him too, because he’s Darth Vader or something.

They shove all the Taurtis clone Stormtroopers into the basement dungeon. They find Taurtis69’s diary in the process, which reveals that he dug the room out himself, and then later on Jerry decorated it. Sam goes inside to see for himself and Grian locks him in. Happy ending!

No Trauma Count This Time Because Pug Already Took Care of That

Something I'm thinking about. Taurtis is unavailable: Grian and Sam fuck around in a superstore for a couple episodes. Grian is unavailable: huge personal revelations. Out-of-story, it feels weirdly like Grian is still being considered as a "guest" character even though he's been on the show for a while now.

In-story though. Taurtis is Important, it's Important that Taurtis is There. But it's not quite as Important that it be the same Taurtis the whole time. In Sam's mind in Yandere High School, and now in the narrative itself in Tokyo Soul, there just has to be someone present who can fit in a Taurtis-shaped outline.

Idk. I'm Chewing On It.

Next Time... LIZZIE LIZZIE LIZZIE LIZZIE

[owlf45]

hi, i really hope you don't mind me asking this, but i love candor and i absolutely love seeing author behind-the-scenes stuff, so i was wondering if we could maybe hear more about how the original premise of candor changed to what it is today? it seems like it was originally very different. it'd also be so cool seeing how you outlined candor (if you did?), because seeing how other ppl do it is so so interesting, esp when you're a writer yourself

if you don't want to though, it's no trouble. i hope you have a wonderful day!

i finished typing the og idea up and it goddamn forever so the tl;dr is, it was the same simulation idea but with more contrived rules, ending with izuku outsmarting a bastard vestige afo. the long version is underneath the read more section. it should be a heading, its also underneath all the outline bullshit.. which, speaking of:

okay. so. how did i outline candor.

truthfully, i had a rough outline that i just. had in the original document and that i deleted + added to as i continued writing. which is partially why it spiralled out of control, because i just kept adding more stuff. my outline was very vibe based. at the top of my outline i had a rough direction of how i wanted to go through the holders, like so:

Sixth → Second → Sixth → Fifth → Seventh → Fourth → First → loop between death a few times → Third → Nine

and then i had important scene outlined underneath that describe how it jumped from one holder to another (for example, fourth and first had interconnected themes of isolation, so i could easily jump from fourth's loneliness to first's vault scenes). the beginning, the thread of which ofa users i was moving through, and the ending was the most outlined and concrete things i had planned. everything else was just. vibes. me vibing. me going insane. what motifs i wanted to express and what lessons i wanted the holders to teach izuku, basically.

obviously i changed a lot because my outline was very superfluous. much of what i outlined in the beginning changed, although the ending remained a constant goal in my mind, so i wasn't all that concerned.

here's a (snippet) of an active outline i still had 110 pages into the project:

OUTLINE BULLSHIT

Sixth → Second → Sixth → Fifth → Seventh → Fourth → First → loop between death a few times → Third → Nine 

“Boss said it himself”-- “his quirk doesn’t react well to people who pry where they don’t belong” 

Izuku experiences all the holders’ deaths

SECONDS DEATH PLS PLS PLS 

Cycling through all the quirks 

Smile motif 

Idealism 

Bullet bounces, bounces, bounces

Sixth meets up with them, asks if he’s okay

They see the event where workplace discrimination is outlawed based on mutant quirks

Someone hugs Izuku and is so happy that they cry 

Screaming and hollering for pure happiness 

Cheering and singing 

Katsuki as a kid (very cute, very small) 

Monoma asking if the projection is necessary

All the suits in the wash

Underground heroes were their own thing, had their own hero gestures not even the Commission could crack. Not always legal, blurred the lines, played the bigger picture so they could get shit done 

Commission hated them bc they knew everything. If they tried to not pass a bill protecting heroes, the undergrounders knew immediately. Had a underground hero family-sys, anyone too competitive/recluse/sellout would be excluded from information networks and could fail/die (created a culture of very loyal, buddy system, etc of heroes) 

Ofa not helping as much bc theres a villain fight 

Your quirk will blow off your own limbs if you tried to use it right now 

When’s the first time you used it??

The entrance exam 

“I  predict in a few holders… it’ll kill them within just 3 or 4 years. Having the quirk, I mean”

Youve had your quirk for two weeks and all of your classmates have had them for 10 years

You need to catch up

Everyone is stronger than you right now

You have maybe two years before All For One comes for you 

He doesn’t know you have OFA now but he will soon 

He’s like a child using his quirk for the first time

Broke all the bones in your body… you wont ever have function of your hands the same way

“Performance is abysmal..”

Monoma: “Lucky, you have a strength quirk! I’m sure you’ve always been loved and supported! Could you imagine having a quirk society actually hates…?” 

Shinsou: “You don’t know what it’s like to be hated for something you don’t have any control over” 

Sixth saying “Hopefully in a next life I’ll get another strength quirk instead” 

“We need stronger quirks. Quirks that can overpower All For One” 

Scene where Izuku stumbles into a park, it’s calm, and a younger Katsuki is staring at him 

“A hero?” Katsuki is barely 5 when he looks at Izuku. “Don’t make me laugh. You’re just a quirkless Deku.” 

Garaki: “It’s because of the double joint, you see. It’s a common marker for those who are quirkless.” 

Mom: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Quirkless statistics say that less likely to be hired, more likely to commit suicide, etc.” 

“I don’t think it’s discriminatory, I think it just makes sense. I mean, if you have a choice between identical candidates and one’s quirkless and one whos made of slime that smells like shit, I’m going to choose the guy who makes the office a little more interesting! It’s not that deep!” 

“We’ve become a eugenecist society where we want to hide or villainize quirks that aren’t ‘good’, and we want the quirkless to disappear entirely” 

Slime Villain slowly chokes him out, makes him lose his consciousness slowly 

Mom’s “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” 

His advisor’s glazed eyes skim across the page. When he reaches the bottom, the man looks up at Izuku. “You understand why this isn’t rational, Midoriya,” the man says. “Heroism is a very dangerous field. It’s impossible if you’re quirkless.” “I—” Izuku stutters out. His advisor pushes his glasses higher up his face and crumples the piece of paper in his hand. Izuku watches as his words and dreams get smashed and curled. The advisor throws it into the trash by his desk. Izuku stares at the pink crumpled ball. The man reaches across his desk to pull out a fresh slip of paper and a simple black pen. He slides both in front of where Izuku sits. “We still have a few minutes,” the man says tiredly. “Write something more realistic down. Like, I don’t know… a librarian? You like reading, don’t you?” 

“Be realistic” 

“A hero? You can’t just be a hero because you like them. Just because you know every fact about them, isn’t going to make you suddenly strong enough” 

“Strong? Deku? Don’t make me laugh”

Izuku applying to UA scene, classroom laughing/Katsuki bullying scene 

“Hey, I’ve got a good idea… why don’t you just take a swan dive off a roof” 

“Can you become a hero…? No, I don’t think so” - All Might 

Youll just get murdered by the time you master your quirk

Everyone’s ahead

“This is your starting line!”

Jeez, he’s like a toddler with his quirk

You have to catch up

“Poor little useless Deku, crying again like a baby”

Youll die in two years

You’re not ready

Screaming

He has all that power and none of the skill. He doesn’t even have his own quirk. He’s wasting every opportunity he has 

He’s the Ninth one and he’s the least prepared out of all of us

He’s the last one and when he screws up, this entire legacy is gone! All our efforts go to waste! 

“You’re lucky. You’ve never had to understand what it’s like to have a quirk that turns everyone against you” 

You’ll never be enough

The heat on his shoulders grows to be unbearable 

The voices stop as Izuku stands behind his desk, which has his hero name carved into the wood 

Trying to remember who Deku is to him

“You’re Nine,” the man says. “You’re safe. You’re grounded. These are not your memories. We can leave at any time.” 

Izuku just stares frozen at it for several minutes

When he sits beneath the desk, he has to stop himself from crying 

He reminds himself what his other classmates have been through like Iida losing his brother to remember that its just words 

He finally croaks out: 

“I’m trying. I’m trying. Isn’t that enough?” 

Rubs his face, stands up, hollowly goes back through memories 

Goes thru all the memories back and forth, sticks thru All Might telling him he can be a hero to gain some courage

Gets back to the scene where All Might said he couldnt when it finally clicks 

“Oh, duh” 

“Oh, duh” 

“Oh,” Izuku says. “Duh.” Take a swan dive off a roof. 

The reason why he started as Sixth’s memory. If he got it from the start he could’ve avoided it all 

When he realizes it, the other holders all arrive and try to stall. Izuku reveals that he knows what he has to do, but he says that they’re not going to like it 

Gives them all whiteboards 

Wakes up in a safehouse with a kettle and sticky note explaining what’s going on 

As you can see, there's a lot going on here. A lot changed, a lot was scrapped. You have some developed scenes and some one-off. The important part was getting a string that connected these in a way that felt natural, eventually culminating into Izuku's breaking point.

this is a very, very small chunk of what the outline was altogether at all stages of the project. but its a good representation of what i put together for each user. this is a very izuku-heavy section. the odds and ends were parts i wanted to go back and add at a later time when i thought of them. manyyyy of the scenes i wrote for earlier chapters were written when i was much further into the fic. i just kept thinking of new things to add.

OG CANDOR IDEA

okay. so basically the og idea was the same: mental simulation, involved the school, blah blah, except Izuku actually remembered he was in a simulation. In the og idea, it was All For One that took control of the simulation and dragged Izuku into the mental vault, basically trapping him away from where the other holders could reach him. The simulation worked the same as in the final version, so that Izuku had to 'complete' a certain objective. AFO took advantage of this by defining the objectives himself, and Izuku accepted those objectives as truth, forcing the simulation to basically.. warp around that contract?

The objectives were this: there were nine cups izuku could drink from, the eighth one was full of medicine, and drinking from the ninth cup would let him escape the simulation at any time. while he drank from each of the other eight cups, the ninth cup would fill proportionally (it was a much taller glass than the other ones), and if it overflowed, the whole simulation would restart. finally, one vestige had to die.

Izuku couldn't see the 'shadowed figure' who was explaining the simulation's rules to him, so izuku didn't know it was All For One. (The fic started with him waking up, sitting a table with nine cups and a shadowed figure across from him.) The first seven cups held the memories of the seven dead OFA holders. as izuku drank from the cups, he would see their memories. however, the 'liquid' in each of the cups was basically a mental poison. so izuku was poisoning himself more and more in different ways, but he couldn't stop drinking from the cups unless he wanted one of the vestiges to die.

in between drinks, izuku basically unraveled the mystery of his 'guest' (which he eventually figured out was afo), and the people he was saving (the ofa vestiges), and where he was located (the mental vault in ofa). it would constantly reference izuku's (the ninth) cup, which was filling up higher and higher, and it also eventually referenced how the ofa holders in the simulation were trying to break open the vault door.

eventually, izuku clears the first seven cups, and he's about to try and stave off the 'poison' that's killing him w/ toshinori's (medicine/eighth) cup. However, at this point AFO relishes in pointing out the 'final decision' he's forced to make:

if izuku drinks from the eighth cup to cure the poison, he'll cause the ninth cup to overflow at this point, restarting the whole simulation.

if izuku drinks the ninth cup, the condition 'a vestige must die' wouldn't be fulfilled, so the simulation would reset.

if izuku did nothing, the poison would kill him

So basically, izuku was going to be stuck in a constant loop of resetting until he gave up and let himself die

but! alas! izuku outsmarts afo because it never said how or which vestige had to die. so izuku goes off the fucking rails bc at this point, the ninth cup has all seven different poisons from the first seven cups, so he throws it on afo and bam! fight scene! and then he kills afo's vestige within ofa, escapes the vault just as the other ofa holders burst into the vault, and then he wakes up in a cold sweat in the gym at UA to all of his classmates being like "what the fuk!"

anyway. aha. there you go. if you were wondering why it took so damn long to answer this... this is why. hope this sated ur curiosity!

[k-femdove]

Teach Me || Q.K

inspired by the one and only dematus and gentlyfillmyveins on ao3!

pairing :: sub!qian kun x dom!gn!reader

warnings :: omegaverse, boypussy omega kun, kun is a TA, alpha!reader (has a dick- can be read whatever gender), reader is a student, mr. lee is taeyong, tutoring, porn w/o plot, like it’s just porn, reader loves his scent, omega slick, like lots of it, and cum too, not explicitly stated but 100% consensual, hickeys, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, overstimulation, kun is a tsundere, reader has a massive cock, fucking on a table, kun squirts once, reader calls him princess, mindbreak, breeding kink, kun is a slutty lil pillow princess, knotting, passing out, reader takes photos of him passed out, slight somnophilia (reader makes kun taste cum while he’s asleep), fucking with glasses on,  jesus Christ how did I fit all of this

word count :: 2.5k... i got a little carried away with the content

Synopsis :: You've always had a thing for pretty, smart, older men.

playlist link here! or listen to “Promiscuous” by Nelly Furtado

You were never the best student. You didn't mean to be so unfocused; it just turned out like that. Whether talking with your friend or scribbling on your paper until it bore you to death, your attention would be on everything but the lesson.

"Y/n, could you stay for a moment?" Your professor, Mr. Lee, called out after most of the class had left. He sat at his desk, his younger TA next to him. Both were young- maybe less than a decade older than you? 

"What's up?" You asked, leaning onto the desk. 

Despite asking, you already knew it was about your grades. Even though your performance was lacking, it wouldn't hurt to improve. 

"As you may know, your recent assignments have been lackluster."  He began, looking the papers over. "It may be a good idea to get a tutor. I've spoken to Mr. Qian about it, and I trust him enough to provide you with the help you need. What do you say?"

Mr. Qian? You glanced at the TA next to your professor. Hm. So that was his last name. You had never really spoken before, so you knew him as Kun. He was soft-spoken and very well-mannered, always speaking eloquently. The man was never in the same part of the room as you, so you didn't pay much attention to him. 

You smiled, turning back to Mr. Lee. "When do we start?"

When you agreed to private sessions, this was not what you hoped would happen. It was Sunday morning, and the warmth of fall was still present. 

Then Kun walked in. As you opened the door to let him in, a strong omega scent hit you like lightning. It reminded you of strawberry candy, the type you'd find in those tiny plastic wrappers. You know, the ones you'd find in a typical Asian store. There was a strange depth to it that was more than just candy. The sweetness was intoxicating, so easy to breathe in and savor. 

You could feel your mouth water as you led him to your coffee table- god, had he always smelt this heavenly? 

Not only that, but he suddenly appeared much more attractive. His silver-rimmed glasses lay perfectly on his face. You began to scan his clothes discreetly, eyes pleasantly surprised. 

He noticed your gaze as he let out an awkward chuckle. His hand moved up to adjust the sleeve of his sweater. It was a light blue with white stripes at the collar, like a vest he usually wore over a collared shirt. You glanced at the sweater again. He wasn't wearing a shirt underneath it. 

"I guess I am a little underdressed. It's warm today- I hope you don't mind?" 

"Oh, of course not." You said, snapping out of your trance. "I don't mind at all."

You didn't mind an hour ago. Now you wished you said otherwise.

As Kun was halfway through a lengthy and detailed explanation, you were practically glaring at him. A sleeve of his sweater slipped off his shoulder, exposing his collarbone. 

Dirty thoughts filled your head. Him without the sweater. Him moaning as you marked his gorgeous collarbones. Him bending over as he begged for your cock-

"Y/n, are you listening?" He said, waving a hand in front of your face.

Your head jolted back up to look at his concerned face, desperately trying to hide your spontaneous boner. Fuck, you just got a boner from your teacher. This day couldn't possibly get worse.

"Are you okay? You've zoned out this whole time." He said, genuinely worried. 

"I-I'm sorry." You blurted out, eyes darting around the room. "I'm just distracted."

"Distracted?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed. "Distracted by what?" 

"By- well- this." You explained, gesturing to his hole whole appearance. 

"This?" Kun repeats, now mildly offended. Then he looks down at your raging hard-on and back at your flustered face. "Oh... Oh."

Another wave of his scent fills the air around you. You begin to lose control of your senses, leaning in closer. Your pupils dilate, and your eyes fill with lust as you breathe it in. 

Kun begins to panic as the scent of your arousal continues to trigger his, his panties already dampening. 

He had to admit you were attractive, catching himself staring a few times in class, but he had never expected it to go this far. 

"T-This is so inappropriate." He stuttered out. "I'm supposed to be your teacher!"

"Inappropriate? My entire apartment smells like you! You're the one wearing that stupid sweater!" You exclaimed.

"You've never had a problem with my scent before!"

"That's because you've never looked this fucking sexy!"

Kun falters for a moment, eyes wide open. "Wait, looked? I thought it was just the scent!"

"No, it's just you! Stop seducing me!" You say, hands on his shoulders. 

"And if I don't?" He replies quietly, testing the waters. 

You pull him in closer, inches away from his face. Kun starts to leak as your pheromones affect him. 

"I'll fuck you until you can't even walk."

He whimpers as you kiss him, hand palming your erection. A small string of saliva connects you as you pull away. You trail kisses down to his collarbone, where you suck harshly on the skin you've wanted to mark, eliciting a faint whine. 

You shove his back onto the table and pull his jeans off, throwing them god knows where. You’re met with the sight of his gorgeous legs, smooth to the touch. As your eyes move up his thighs, you move a hand to rub him through his soaked panties. 

“Stop teasing me….” He pleads, unconsciously pushing his lower half onto your hand.

You laugh at his eagerness and place a hand on his hips, preventing him from moving. 

You hum lightly and inch the pretty panties off him, placing them on the side of the table.

His scent grows stronger as you spread his legs, exposing a pink, hairless, and virtually untouched pussy. Your mouth watered as copious amounts of slick began to drip on the floor. 

“God, you're going to be the death of me...” you mutter, feasting on him with your eyes. 

You eagerly lean in and begin kissing his thighs. Kun groans as you guide your mouth everywhere but his pussy. 

As Kun begins to grow irritated, a gasp escapes his mouth as you lick a stripe on his pussy. The taste of his arousal spreads through your mouth. 

If the scent of him drove you crazy, his taste was on another level. It had vanilla and strawberry undertones, sweet and sugar-like. 

You dove back in, licking circles around his clit. Kun mewled as you moved your tongue down to his entrance, hungrily tasting the slick he let gush out. Your tongue easily entered him, plunging in and out. 

“F-Fuck,” he said, moans growing louder. “I’m so close.” 

Just as his thighs began to shake, you pulled away completely. Kun let out a loud whine, desperately trying to chase after his lost orgasm. 

Once you were positive that the buildup was lost, you easily plunged a finger into his hole. Slick or not, it wouldn't hurt to prep him a bit more. 

You took your free hand and slid it up his sweater, caressing his nipple. Kun’s breath hitched and his thighs instinctively squeezed together. 

You forced them apart again, inserting a second finger and sucking harshly on his clit. He let out a surprised yelp that quickly turned into loud, needy moans. 

Your fingers curled up as you thrust them deeper, eventually finding his G-spot. You pressed up against it, thrusting in and out. 

Kun’s entire body shook as he neared orgasm yet again, only for you to halt your movements. He makes a pained noise as he attempts to fuck himself back onto your fingers, but the stimulation was lost. 

You laughed at his reaction, already pushing a third finger into him. The slide was incredibly easy and your fingers jabbed against his G-spot once more. 

He sobbed as arousal pooled in his stomach, nearing his high again. He panted heavily and moved to take his glasses off, but you grabbed his hand. 

“Don’t.” You said, looking at his disheveled appearance, his glasses beginning to fog from the heat. “They make you look sexy.” 

Kun whimpers as you continue to finger fuck him, so close to the edge- closer than you'd ever pushed him. He squeezes his eyes shut in the hope that you’ll let him cum, only seconds away from his orgasm. 

A broken sob escapes his lips when you pull your fingers out completely, licking them clean. 

“You- You're so mean...” He cries, eyes glossy and beautiful. 

“Me? Mean? I don’t think you should be insulting a student, Mr. Qian.” 

Kun winces as reality hits him. He bites his lip and looks at you, teary-eyed. 

“I hate you, y/n.” He whimpers, averting his eyes away from you.

You smirk at him, eyes filled with lust. “You say you hate me, but your slick is getting all over the floor... Again. Tell me, sir. Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

He bites his lip before glancing at you. “Please...” He whimpers again, spreading his legs farther apart. 

You smile, unzipping your pants and pulling your massive cock out of your underwear. Kun widens his eyes at the size. He’d never taken anything like that before. 

Your cock throbs as you swipe a glob of precum with your finger and point it at Kun’s mouth. 

The man catches on immediately and eagerly takes your digits into his mouth, moaning from the taste. Another wave of arousal gushes from his entrance, and you lick it up before your floor can become even wetter. 

Kun moans as you push your cock in, already pushing against his G-spot. 

“Halfway there, princess.” You say, grasping his hips and pushing him farther down. 

Only half? He thinks, already feeling filled to the brim. 

He screamed as you shoved yourself inside, stretching his insides as you buried yourself balls-deep inside of him. He couldn't believe how full he felt, how much pain mixed with pleasure. 

It only takes a few small thrusts before Kun already feels like cumming, his denied orgasms making him a thousand times more sensitive. 

You grunt as his velvety soft walls begin to clench around you, so you pull out completely. 

He cries out at the feeling of being empty, grinding his hips into the air. 

“Fuck, please!” He whines.

“Please what?”

“C-cum! Please let me cum!” He pleads, but you pound into him before he can even finish talking. 

His stomach bulged as you thrust deeper inside him, reaching places no one else could. He gasped as he felt himself stretch further than he thought possible.

The sudden sensation caused him to squirm wildly, trying desperately to escape the pleasure. It only intensified the feeling as he struggled to cope with it. The pain and pleasure were almost unbearable, yet it felt so good. 

Before Kun knew it, his orgasm hit him like a truck. The room filled with his pretty noises as he clenched around your cock, cumming all over it. 

Panting heavily, he rode out his orgasm before realizing that you weren't stopping. The pleasure turned to the pain of overstimulation. His thighs shook as you thrust into him, pleasure slowly taking over his body. 

“Ah, wait- what are you doing?” He moaned as you pounded into him ruthlessly as if you didn’t care about how he felt. 

“You said you wanted to cum, right princess?” You said, hand massaging his clit. 

Kun screams as he squirts all over your cock before coming a second time, having no time to recover as you continue to thrust into him.

He cried out as you fucked him hard, causing his body to shake uncontrollably. Every nerve ending seemed to fire at once, causing him to feel like he was going to pass out. And then, just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, yet another orgasm washes over him. 

“You good, princess? We’re nowhere near done yet.”

He nods lazily as you coax orgasm after orgasm out of him. His eyes are glued shut at this point and his voice is hoarse from moaning like a slut. He feels so faded that he can't even remember how many times he’s come, the morning turned to the afternoon as you fucked the living shit out of him. 

“Fuck me harder!” He begs, his insides practically memorizing the shape of your cock. “Ah- please! Breed me full of your pups! ♡! ♡♡!” 

You take a moment to admire your work. The once-composed and eloquent TA was reduced to nothing but a babbling mess. His sweet scent was long gone and replaced with the smell of pure sex. 

You considered his request. You knew he wouldn't get pregnant, so what harm would there be? 

Kun cums one last time, clenching even harder around you. You feel your knot expanding, catching against his rim. 

With one final thrust, you bury yourself in him. Cum shoots deep inside him in regular 5-minute intervals, filling him up until you can see a faint bulge in his stomach. 

Kun is pretty much passed out, so you scroll mindlessly on your phone until your knot comes down. 

When the time comes, you ready your camera and pull your cock out. Thick and slick gushes out into a small bowl (you had prepared for this beforehand) and you snap one too many photos. 

Kun looks majestic. He's wearing nothing but his oversized sweater and his collarbone is exposed, covered in dark hickeys. His hair is ruffled in a post-sex mess, and glasses laying on the tip of his nose. 

You take a few photos of his gaping hole, pink and clenching around nothing. You hum before scooping a generous amount of the cum-slick mixture with your fingers and feeding it to him as he lets out a small moan in his sleep. You clean him up a bit before getting dressed and cleaning up your apartment, which smelled an awful lot like strawberry candy (courtesy of a large amount of slick on your floor), and your citrusy scent. 

Once done, you lay in bed next to Kun before falling asleep, holding his body close to yours. 

By the time you woke up, the man was already gone. 

True to your word, Kun showed up to school the next day stumbling and with a noticeable limp. He had done a good job cleaning himself though, and all remnants of sex were gone. 

You giggled as Mr. Lee and numerous students approached him asking if he was okay, concern painted on their faces. 

Right before the lesson began, you approached Mr. Lee as he spoke with Kun. 

“I've been having trouble with this lesson, so could Mr. Qian sit with me? I've learned over our session that he's good at many things.” 

Kun’s eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his spit, face growing red. 

Thankfully for him, the professor doesn't seem to catch on, and now Kun is taking a seat in the back of the class with you. 

The tension seems to ease as you stay silent for most of the class, but you turn to him halfway through and place a hand on his thigh. 

You can already smell his scent releasing again before you lean in and whisper something into his ear. 

“We’re still on for that session Wednesday, right princess?”

a/n :: decided to post this while you guys wait for first love pt.2... it’s not very good but it’s what we have for now (i literally wrote this at like 3am bc I was horny or something...) i’ve been dreaming of tutor!kun and we need more boypussy sub!idol fics !!

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Smut 18+ thigh riding, fingering, oral, daddy kink, plot to make up for my first attempt at writing smut.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter One

“Fucking hell.” You sighed as you looked at the still tall stack of essays that needed grading. “I’m never getting through this.”

Your stomach grumbled, signaling it was time for a break. Stretching, the quiet was interrupted by the sound of your bone’s protest from sitting in one position for hours. It was nights like these you had regretted your choices. Sure you had known Professor Jacob loved to torture his students with too much work, but when you took the job as his assistant you assumed that he’d shoulder some of the weight. A ridiculous thought now that you’ve experienced working with him. Why should he even think of grading an assignment when he had a perfect little lackey doing it for him? That was a non question. He had been strict about the work not leaving his office, which meant you had accidentally fallen asleep in his office more than often than you would have liked. The pile of work never seemed to diminish. 

Walking out the office, you thought briefly of the joy you would feel when you’d never have to see it again. These long corridors would be a thing of the past in just a few, short months. Then you’d probably go to the city and struggle for a while but at least you would be free from here. As much as you prided yourself for getting through the first round of college, the walls of the building gave you more of an annoyed feeling than anything. 

Pushing open the door to the teachers lounge, you made a beeline for the fridge. The leftover pizza already seemed like a feast until you noticed it was nowhere to be seen. “Hannibal,” you whined to the empty room as you closed the fridge. 

“Yes, darling?” 

You startled, immediately turning around to face him, a mischievous smile was plastered on his lips. Usually your missing dinner meant to head over to his office. It wasn’t typical, but the two of you had managed a comfortable friendship between the shared late nights. Though, you suspected he’d stay longer than necessary to accompany you in the empty building. “Would you mind telling me where my dinner went, handsome?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Old pizza can hardly be considered dinner. Come,” he motioned to sit next to him at the table, “I’ve got a better meal prepared for you nonetheless.”

“Or maybe you just need to learn to appreciate the simple things,” you quipped as you took your seat.

“And you, the finer.”

You gave him an obvious look over, “I’d say I appreciate you plenty enough.” 

Being so forward wasn’t usually in your cards. However Hannibal had always been a gentleman and it had been fun to tease at him a bit. He never complained, often just acknowledging what you said with a raised brow or chuckle. Still there was always some truth in jokes and you’d be lying to say that he was anything less than tempting. Especially in the dark grey suit and dried blood red shirt of his. ‘No’ wouldn’t come to mind if he ever offered.

“Naughty, Miss LN,” he chided you, ��What shall we do with you?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

“Eat your dinner,” he said, humor in his voice as he shook his head.

You choked back a comment about him just wanting to see your mouth stuffed, deciding it was too much of a push. Instead you just opened the lunchbox he placed in front of you. Hannibal watched you expectantly as you took a bite of the meat.

Closing your eyes, you savored the bite. It had been a while since you had something home cooked. “Han... I’m going to miss you most. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. Delicious, as always.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He went back to work on his own stack of papers as you ate. “Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to allow you to live off street food once we part.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find me another man that insists on throwing away my perfectly good food to serve me home cooked meals.”

Hannibal left some remarks on a paper before pushing it to the side. “You could always come learn a few things. Maybe I’ll rest better knowing you know how to make yourself a couple of decent meals. Any guesses for the meat?”

It was a strange guessing game, but you indulged him, he was just eccentric. “Oh, definitely human,” you teased, making sure to pick up some spinach and artichoke in the next bite, “Probably had a boring name like David.”

“Close. It was Richard,” he corrected. 

“Beef, it was the Rolex of all farm animals hand picked by you and I’m very grateful you shared some with me,” you smiled at him, “So how are things going with Baltimore?”

“I’ve found a beautiful home. The office, however, seems to be harder to find.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect one.” Your phone started ringing. Grabbing it from your pocket, you looked at the screen. Mom. “They’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” you sighed to yourself. 

Hannibal looked at you with peaked interest as you shut off your phone and pushed it away. “Is something troubling you?”

“My parents aren’t taking too kindly to the no contact rule. It’s the tenth call today.”

“You’ve cut them off?”

“I thought about what you had said,” you shrugged, “I’m tired of always having to get them out of troubles and be their ATM when I don’t have enough for myself. It’s just too much on me right now. Between school assignments, Jacob’s work pile, and my other part time, it’s all just suffocating. They keep trying to use my grandfather’s death as a leverage to make me feel bad about not talking to them now, but they just want some money. I don’t want to feel guilty about this but I can’t help it.”

“Don’t,” he placed his hand over yours, “You deserve to feel taken care of and appreciated. They aren’t providing you with that now. Especially now when they use the death of the person who raised you as leverage,” he shook his head, making a disgusted sound, “It’s for your own well-being that you take some time to breathe and be young. They provide too much stress…” Hannibal fell silent. “I’ve suggested this before but i-“

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I’m not taking your money. We’re friends. Money complicates things. Muddies the waters.”

“Friends help each other,” he reminded you, “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t want any payment.”

“But I’d still feel like I owe you.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t feel right to me. I’m fine. I promise. Though, if you’re so willing to help me with something, I wouldn’t say no to those cooking lessons. They could be fun.”

He spared you a smile, “It would be my pleasure to teach you what I know.”

“And I’d never deny your pleasure,” your mouth spoke before you could think about it, “Sorry.”

“I don’t deny myself pleasure either,” he said, amused. “You’re fine. Now, how about we meet on Sunday? I’ll have time to figure out a full meal and gather all of the ingredients.”

“Great!” You ignored the heat that still lingered on your face, “I- um, do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nothing at all, I’ll make sure to take care of everything. All you need to do, sweet girl, is bring yourself and an appetite.”

You stifled a pleased smile at the term of affection. “I’ll make sure to do that,” sparing a glance to the clock, you frowned, “I should probably get back to work on those essays.”

“Why don’t we work on them together?” He suggested. “My colleague is notorious for drowning you in his work. I can help you sort through it all and you can have a restful Saturday without Micheal’s added stress.”

“I really can’t ask that of you. You already have enough work as it is.”

“We’ll work together. First your work, then mine. What happened to never denying my pleasure?” 

Your eyes widened, but you laughed all the same. Maybe a while more in his company wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. Hold me to my words, but it’s only going to cause you a headache. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. These new kids are… something else.”

“They’re nothing,” he stood, grabbing his papers in one hand, “Meet me in my office. We can be more comfortable there and I may have stowed away a bottle of wine.”

“What would I do without you Doctor Lecter?”

-

“You have arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice informed you as you parked.

You took in the mansion of a home. It was too big for someone that lived alone. The thought made you shiver. Homes should be filled with life, not empty space. Then again, he was a fan of dinner parties, extravagant ones at that, so you supposed there was life in those walls on occasion. The home itself reminded you of the houses in old movies. Ones where the lightning would strike at just the right moment as a warning to stay away. But this was real life and there was no lightning, just a sun setting on a near perfect day. 

Without a warning telling you to keep away, you grabbed the gift bag and stepped out of your car. He had said to bring nothing, but you couldn’t resist a simple gift. The ties in the bag had taken out a decent chunk from your pocket, but he deserved them. Between agreeing to give you cooking lessons and helping you out with grading every so often, the simple pieces of fabric meant nothing. Besides, it was a two way gift, he’d get more of the patterned ties he was fond of and you’d get to see him in the darker colors you liked on him, knowing he’d feel compelled to wear them to show you his gratitude.

Knocking on the door, you waited a couple of minutes before he emerged. “YN, just in time. Please, come in,” he stepped to the side, “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

You smiled and stepped past him. “I have too. Entertained myself a bit today by finding you a gift.” 

“Darling, you shouldn’t have.”

Nervousness bit at you slightly, a bit self conscious they’d be too cheap for his taste. Too late to back out of it, you handed over the bag. “You’ve always been so kind and I really appreciate everything. Let me do something for you.”

He set the bag on the nearby table, laying out the ties to get a better look at them.  “They’re all lovely,” he ran a finger across the fabric of a maroon one, “Fond of me in darker colors, YN?”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “We catch ourselves spending a lot of time together. Why not make you a decent piece of eye candy?”

“Inappropriate,” he chided you, before signaling you to follow after him.

“You just wear them so well, Doctor Lecter.”

Shrugging off his navy suit coat, he draped it over a chair, making quick work of rolling up his sleeves. “Ready to get your hands dirty, my little sous-chef?”

“What are we making?” You asked, looking at his kitchen wide eyed. It was definitely bigger than your measly studio apartment. 

“Frisee aux lardons, duck with a pomegranate-citrus glaze. I took the liberty of preparing a blood orange sorbet for dessert.”

“I have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t do any of that and just have dessert for dinner.”

“No,” he gave you an amused glance, “There’s more pleasure in waiting for things. Why don’t you start washing up the vegetables and I’ll start preparing the duck?”

You stuck your tongue out at his back but set to your work. “This is what I get for befriending a charming old guy.”

“Keep going the way you are and our next meal together will be langue d’Agneau en papillote.”

“That can’t be a threat if I don’t know what that means,” you quipped, setting aside an endive. 

“It means, darling,” he pointed his knife at you, “The fondness I feel for you is an inconvenience. Nonetheless, it’s welcomed.”

You smiled at him brightly, as you brought the washed vegetables over to him. “I’m fond of you too, but you gotta stop flirting and teach me how we’re gonna cook Daffy here.”

He motioned for you to grab a cutting board and a knife of your own. The two of you worked in quiet harmony, occasionally he’d tell you exactly why he was doing something a certain way or just give you simple instructions and let you have a hands on feel of exactly how to prepare something. It was nice to see him in his element. Hannibal seemed much more content in his kitchen than any where you had seen him at the college. Eventually he set his work to the side and washed his hands. 

“You’re cutting them too thick. Thinner is better for this dish.” He stepped behind you, “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.” You attempted to move to the side, but Hannibal had already caged you in between himself and the counter. His cologne was different from the one you were accustomed to him wearing, but the subtle spice of it gave a more homey feeling to him. 

Hannibal grabbed your hand that had yet to  let go of the knife. He made sure to show you how to cut them the right thickness. “See? A little thing can unbalance everything.”

“Hm,” you hummed, catching yourself relaxed against the man, his frame strong against yours, “I don’t see much of a difference. Pretty sure this is just your variation of a putter.”

“You assume I have hidden motives,” He acknowledged, looking down at you, “And if there were any?”

Taking the bait, you pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I wouldn’t be too upset.”

His head dipped into your shoulder, taking in a breath. “What happened to not wanting to bring on complications in our friendship?”

“We only have weeks left with each other,” you shrugged, “There wouldn’t be any complications. Not really.”

“We really should get back to making our dinner, darling,” he sighed, almost seeming reluctant to pull away, “What else did you did you do today?””

It took you a second to respond, still shaking off the embarrassment. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do that. When you looked up at him you grimaced. Grabbing a napkin, you carefully wiped away the lingering lipstick. “The ties were the more interesting part of the day, I didn’t plan anything eventful. Honestly most of my day was taken with trying to recall the shop you mentioned that carried the ones you liked.”

He hummed in appreciation, “You also managed to pick out two I have had my eye on. I’ve got new suits coming in soon that will pair perfectly.”

You beamed at that, happy he did actually like what you had chosen. “Lucky guess. It was difficult remembering the ones I had seen you wear.”

Hannibal made to grab some ingredients and set them on the counter near the stove. “Have your parents tried calling you this weekend?”

You sighed, sure you didn’t have to tell him the truth but you wanted to, he had a compelling thing to him that made it easy to just speak. “I sent them money for rent. Which was honestly the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”

“It wasn’t idiotic,” he stated, setting to work on making the pomegranate sauce as you watched, “They’re you’re parents. It’s only natural you worry about them. Though, I do worry they’ll think of you as a person that doesn’t stick to her word.”

“I know, I really meant to, but the thought of them out on the street. It’s not my responsibility, but I’m just so used to being their adult.”

“It’s difficult to detransition. You worry for them as they should worry for you.”  He checked over a pan he had been heating, “That’s perfect. If you could please..” Grabbing the plate with the duck you set them on the pan. “With duck it’s important to render off the fat. A low heat is necessary.”

You nodded, “Low and slow, got it... You know, I’m not sure they worry about me at all. I mean- I know they don’t. It should hurt, but it’s just a fact of life.”

“They didn’t give you an opportunity to be a child. When you were supposed to be in the most carefree moments of your life, they burdened you with the responsibilities of an adult.” He held out a spoon with some of the pomegranate sauce for you to taste. “Any pain the notion inflicted on you has been killed with time.”

“There are still moments though. Suppose that’s common enough, isn’t it Doc?” You leaned in, allowing him to feed you, “That tastes amazing. I really should have paid attention.”

“It’s simple, I’ll write it out for you later.” Casting the sauce aside, he set a pot of water to boil. “Very common. We aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to how quickly we had to grow up. Very different reasons, but the fall out isn’t much different. Our paths left us in places where we’re very much alone.”

“What happened?” You asked, realizing that he had known a great deal of your family and you had known nothing more past how his day had gone or his preference of coffee. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t.” Hannibal went to fill two glasses with wine. “I was very young when my parents died. My father had implemented in me that, if anything were to happen, I was to take care of my mother and sister. Which meant I had grown fiercely protective of Mischa when the time came. Soon I was acting more as her father than a brother.”

“Where’s Mischa now?” You asked, knowing at the very least she had to be in her late twenties.

His lips set into a frown, he took a quick drink. “Lost her sometime after. There was a lapse of judgement on my part and she suffered because of it. My days have often been shrouded by the thought that I could have done better by her. The ways I failed burdens me significantly.”

You rubbed his arm sympathetically. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine that pain.”

“It’s something I never wish to experience again. Losing someone you love so dearly, it changes a person.”

“I’m sure you tried your best. You’re a good man. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that when you were so young.”

“You think too highly of me,” he patted your hand on his arm, “Far better than I deserve. Still if my childhood had taught me anything, it’s to value those I hold dear. Such as yourself.” 

“I’m glad we found each other. Even if it is for a short while.” You watched as he stepped back into the rhythm of cooking. Maybe you weren’t any help to him but watching him work was comforting. 

He raised a brow, “Just because the amount of time we physically see each other will diminish, doesn’t mean we need to completely break apart. I’d like to have you at my dinner table later in life.”

“I’d like it if we kept in touch,” you replied, looking at a small box on the counter. The small black beads glimmered in the light, calling at you to take a peek. A neat row of recipe cards in his impeccable penmanship, numbered as high as 120 but there could have been more. “That’s sweet,” you mused, looking at the back of a card, noticing a couple had business cards on them, “You keep track of your friends’ favorites like this?”

“Friends, acquaintances, business partners. It’s difficult remembering everyone’s preferences. When I have dinner parties I like to make sure there’s a bit of something for everyone.”

“Hm, well I’m sorry I don’t have a card for you to have.”

When everything was said and done, you helped Hannibal set up the plates to have dinner. The conversation became light as you laughed along to the better memories of Mischa. From his smile it was easy to see he adored the usually shy girl. You never pressed on to find out how she died, simply choosing to bask in his soft smiles and laughter instead of entertaining curiosity. It was easy to see he rarely talked about her and you were grateful that he found that much comfort in you.

Some time later he was sitting at his harpsichord, playing a self composed melody as you browsed his shelves. There was an almost familiar calm in the air, like this was a usual happening and it would simply just happen again. A naturally reoccurring moment. You found comfort in his presence too. 

You looked up from the shelves when you heard his sigh. “I can’t seem to master this melody,” he stated, “The ending never sounds right.” The annoyed demeanor contradicted his lax look. At least lax for him. His vest and suit jacket had been discarded a while ago leaving him with a popped button, loosened tie, and rolled up sleeves. “I may just leave this one in the air.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” you said, walking over to him, “Though we can be our own worst critics. I know I’m mine.”

“It sounds… forced. Almost as if it’s reluctant to work with me.”

“Forced things just need time.” You placed your hand on his shoulders, digging in your thumbs to relieve the tension you felt. A soft groan as he let his head lull back to rest against your stomach. “Time is all you need sometimes. I thought you would have learned that already, old man.”

He opened his eyes, raising a brow at you. “Always with that mouth.”

You smiled down on him fondly, something- probably the wine in your system -thought about pressing a kiss to his forehead right then. “What can I say? It has a mind of its own.”

“I do prefer when it’s otherwise occupied,” he stated, closing his eyes again.

Your fingers dug a little deeper at that, caught off guard. “And yet.”

Hannibal played a couple soft notes, seemingly testing the waters for his next attempt at getting it to sound right. “And yet.” The first melody seemed almost innocent, but was followed by a second seemingly stalking after it. “Would you mind putting on a record? It seemed I’ve grown bored with music of my own.”

“Sure thing, Han.” Giving his shoulders one final squeeze you pulled away from him. At the record table you browsed through his selection. Hannibal was still composing as you decided to go with a record that looked more worn than the others, figuring something well loved would help him out of his frustrated state. Setting it on the platter, you gave it a brief once over with the anti static brush, knowing he’d probably be attentive to that type of thing, and dropped the needle. The music filled the air as you took in the melody. “Very you.”

He let out a soft chuckle, abandoning the harpsichord, in favor walking over to you. “Very me, indeed.” Hannibal took the record sleeve out of your hand, setting it down on the table. The music’s build up reached. “Would you give me the honor?” His hand was stretched out toward you.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “Afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher,” he pressed, a charming smile on his lips, “We all start somewhere. Let me be yours.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you as you took in his look of boyish excitement. “You’re not allowed to complain when I step on your toes.” You placed your hand in his. 

He gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you’re too terrible, I’ll show you the way I taught Mischa. You can stand on my toes as I try to help you commit the movements into muscle memory.”

“Handsome and a comedian.”

“I try my best.” Hannibal gave you a gentle spin as he pulled you closer. A kiss was pressed to your hand before he placed it on his shoulder. “Now, just follow after me,” he instructed, placing his hand on your hip.

The moment could have made you fall for the man as you danced with him throughout the room. Toothy smiles and teasing winks were sent your way the couple of times you stepped on his toe. Soon enough, you figured out the pace and learned how to follow through with his unspoken plans. Still, ever the novice, you managed to place your foot in a way that sent you both stumbling to the floor.

Hannibal held you close to his chest, ensuring you didn’t get hurt in the fall. “Oh my sweet girl,” he laughed, “we are going to need more practice.”

You hid your face against his neck, ignoring the fact that he could feel how hot your face was getting. “You want more of that?”

“You were doing perfect, YN,” he stroked your hair sympathetically, “One misstep isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted off of the older man, opting to sit beside him on the floor. Hannibal followed suit, leaning back on his elbows. “I really am going to miss seeing you regularly,” you admitted, reaching out your hand to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. 

“We spend much of our time together,” he acknowledged as he looked at you curiously. “In the kitchen-“

Your eyes widened slightly, “We don’t need to talk about that i-it’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Romantically or physically?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you see me as a romantic or physical conquest?”

“I, um,” you opted to look at your fumbling hands, “I’m honestly not sure about romance… especially considering… everything and my experience when it comes to romance. Never really thought past- I’m talking too much.”

Hannibal’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Oh? What happened to the confident girl in the kitchen? Don’t go shy on me now.”

“I was high on your cologne, you can hardly blame me,” you rambled, “It pairs with mine nicely I think.”

His thumb stroked absentmindedly at your jaw. “Such a sweet little thing you are… Now, tell me, YN, what couldn’t you think past?”

“You,” you offered lamely, “Mostly nights when I needed to relax. You’d cross my mind. I’d wonder how you felt. How’d you do things. Maybe you’d like to leave bruises only you’d ever know about…”

“There’s something special in knowing what others don’t,” Hannibal acknowledged, “I do enjoy my lovers wearing my marks, hidden from others view and only acknowledged by myself. As it should be, I’m certain you agree.”

You swallowed thickly at the implication of being marked as his solely. The idea of having normal conversations with him at the college with evidence of him knowing you well burned against your skin. Maybe you’d see if you could convince him into one particular fantasy Friday night had conjured. 

He rested his thumb against your bottom lip, bringing you back to him. “I’ve had thoughts of my own… I wonder… Have you ever wrapped a hand around your own neck?” Hannibal smirked at the way your lips parted in surprise as he felt the heat rise to your face, caught in a way you hadn’t expected. “Sweet girl, were you desperate for me?”

You went to lick your bottom lip out of habit, instead finding the pad of his thumb. “Yes, sir.”

“Darling,” he sighed out softly, almost disappointed, “we could have sorted you out this entire time, if you’d only ask politely. There would have been no need for you to imagine, creative as you might have been. You always put everyone’s needs before yours, but where does that leave you?” Hannibal his thumb pressed against your lips lightly, humming in satisfaction when you let him in, already so compliant. “All you have to do is ask. What would you have me do tonight?” A soft pop sounded in the room as he pulled his thumb back, smearing your spit onto your lips and chin. 

“Just tonight?” The words rolled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. 

A soft laugh. “Maybe more, if you behave.”

Hannibal threaded his hand into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Leaning closer he took a deep breath, taking you in, before leaving a simple kiss against your neck. His warm breath fanned across your face as he kept you in anticipation. Finally he graced you with a feather light kiss, so quick you weren’t sure you even noticed. You didn’t have time to feel ashamed of the whine that had escaped when he started to move away. Following after him, you caught him in an urgent kiss, threading your own hands in his hair to make sure he’d stay close. Hannibal bit at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding in the second you gasped. You ignored the sting and slight coppery taste. 

Sure you had had your fair share of ventures. It was only natural to crave the attention for the night or a couple hours. However, Hannibal didn’t feel like any of your past partners. His kiss was unrelenting and passionate. Quickly he learned exactly how to kiss you to ensure you’d moan into his mouth. You weren’t sure how long had been spent like this. Lips on lips. Someone’s wandering hand trailing down the other’s body. The growing need. Every movement slowly became bolder. Hannibal took the time to pull you onto his thigh, closing the distance between you even more. He kissed along your neck until he found a spot that made you buck against him. 

“Please,” you sighed out, not really knowing exactly what you wanted, but having faith that he’d give you just what you needed. 

Hannibal leaned his forehead against yours, “Are you sure about this, darling?” 

It wasn’t time for contemplation though, everything was already set into motion. He had just asked out of politeness. His hands moved to your hips, he dragged you against himself in a way that clouded your mind. “You’re very convincing,” you said with a shuddered breath. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you matched his rhythm. At the moment everything in the world was him and you couldn’t find it in you to mind. 

“You came to me,” he pointed out. His hand tugged at your shirt and you allowed him to pull it off. Fingers raised goose bumps along your skin as he followed the fabric of your bra to unclasp the material.  

“Could you blame me?” You kissed the side of his jaw for the second time this night. The lipstick mark left behind wasn’t as embarrassing when you were half undressed on his lap. A blush blossomed in your chest as you watched his darken eyes take you in.

Hannibal kissed along your chest. His hand made its way into your pants, drawing slow circles on your clit. Your soft moan and jut of your hips urged him for more. Before you could ask, he thrusted two fingers inside of you, the pace changing every so often as he took in your reactions. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you grinded against his hand. Soft whimpers were muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

“Come on sweet girl,” he used his free hand to pull you off of his shoulder by the hair, “you shouldn’t be hiding. Look at me when I’m touching you. Don’t you want to be my good toy?”

You nodded meekly, unable to make a smart comment when you saw a smirk settle on his lips as a too loud moan took its place. 

“That’s it, no one can hear you,” he teased as he worked at the spot harder, his thumb rubbed at your clit. “You seem very close, what if I…”

As he went to move his hand, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, no, no. Please, I’ll be good for you.”

He chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he brought his pace back up. Instead he chose to revel in your soft sounds and the way you had to focus to keep your eyes on him. Finally, he decided keeping you on the edge was enough and allowed you to cum on his fingers. 

“Clean up your mess,” he said as he thrusted his cum coated fingers into your mouth, “There you go, good girl.”

You watched him as you sucked his fingers clean. Bringing a hand down you palmed cock through his pants, fully intending on returning the favor. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I’m afraid that status isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hannibal kissed your pouted lip. “Don’t worry, I fully intend on taking care of you. Come, let’s make you more comfortable.”

As he stood, Hannibal offered you his hand to help you up. You followed him through the home to his bedroom, a place you didn’t think you’d end up but were more than pleased to see. Still you weren’t exactly taking in the sights when you were pulled into a rougher kiss as he led you toward his bed. A not too gentle push to your chest landed you on top of it. Leaning back on your elbows, you watched as Hannibal took his time undressing you fully. 

“You don’t play fair,” you complained, shifting yourself higher on the bed, away from him, “I like a pretty view too you know.”

He smiled, looking down at you fondly, “Very well, but only as a reward for earlier. I know you struggled.”

You smiled at that, shaking your head, “Come here won’t you?”

There wasn’t any time wasted when he settled on top of you, you didn’t have his patience. Your hands worked on his tie and buttons as his lips and teeth trailed across your chest. A subtle grind against your pussy had your thighs squeeze his waist. Pushing his shirt off, you felt down his chest, still surprised by how muscular he seemed to be underneath it all. You wondered if he’d stop you as you reached for his belt.

“That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.”

An annoyed huff was all you could manage. 

“All in its time, darling.” A surprisingly gentle kiss was dropped on your cheek. “Can you manage waiting a while longer for me?”

You resisted the urge to nuzzle against him, unused to such soft displays from past partners. “Yes, sir...”

“Always such a sweet, polite thing.” 

Hannibal kissed and bit his way down your body, ensuring there would be evidence of him the next time you saw yourself in the mirror. He allowed you to thread your fingers in his hair, giving him a soft push down when he took too long marking you in one spot. It wasn’t much longer until Hannibal was level with your thighs, he pushed them further apart. A moment passed without anything before you remembered his rule. Willing yourself up you looked down at him, catching a wink before you were rewarded with a broad lick. Hannibal sucked your clit, pressing your hips down when you grinded against him. 

A helpless noise was the most you could do.

He bit your thigh, his fingers immediately making their way back inside of you, targeting the spot he had quickly learned turned you to putty. 

“You really are beautiful like this,” Hannibal acknowledged, “Completely at my mercy. Desperate for anything I’m willing to give you.”

There wasn’t any time to think up something to say as Hannibal’s mouth replaced his fingers, silencing any words that weren’t his breathy attempts of his name and pleas. Teeth grazed against your clit and a soft moan of his own was enough to pull you closer. 

“Please, daddy,” you begged, too far gone to be embarrassed by your slip, “I’m close…”

Hannibal was merciful, helping you finish as quickly as you had asked. Maybe at another time he would have teased and made you hold on longer but there was only so much patience he had. Especially when there was such an eager lover begging him. You watched him, dazed, as he came back up, his hand gripping at your jaw.

“Open.”

Doing as he wanted, you opened your mouth, instantly receiving a mix of the still lingering wine he had drank at dinner and you. He watched as you swallowed.

He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “So pliant.” 

Hannibal kissed you, finally allowing you to get your way as you pushed off the last clothes. You pumped him in your hand, working up the courage as you shook off the daze he had left you in. He was definitely the most talented partner you had had.

“We don’t have to go any further,” Hannibal reassured you, kissing the side of your mouth, “I’m perfectly sedated watching you.”

You shook your head immediately, not wanting him to think you were hesitant. “I want to, college guys aren’t so giving, just needed some time to clear my head.” As if to prove your point you gave him a squeeze, that made him thrust into your hand on instinct. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”

“I prefer it,” he groaned quietly, as you thumbed at the slit. Hannibal rolled so that you could be on top of him, “But if you insist…”

A soft laugh. “That was hardly the fight I was expecting,” you muttered teasingly, kissing his jaw. 

“My patience is running thin.”

At that you straddled him, your hand lining him up with you. His hands held you steady as you sunk onto him. The both of you moaned softly when he was fully inside. Hannibal slowly grinded you against himself as you adjusted to his size. Hands against his chest, you started riding him in earnest. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you, his fingernails digging harder into your hips. 

“Yours,” you whimpered, too enthralled in the feel of him to pay any attention to the weight of what you were saying. His groans underneath you encouraged you more than anything. “All yours.”

Hannibal sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you firm against him. His soft kiss was a contrast to how roughly he was working himself into you. You couldn’t find it in you to care that he had taken control again. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased, just enjoying the way his hands and lips would travel across your body. Teasing, pinching, biting everywhere he could reach.  Your chest alone would be covered in marks left behind by Hannibal. That would be a problem for the future you to deal with at the moment you were too preoccupied with begging him for more. He’d slow his thrust whenever he felt you close to the end, chuckling lowly at the whining sounds you had made.

“Give daddy one more sweet girl. I know you can.”

You moaned loudly, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. When he wanted. Drained, you fell limp against his shoulder. Every small sound you made broadcast directly to him as he used you for all your worth. His arms tightened around you when you tried to pull away from the over stimulation. 

“Daddy’s close,” he promised, his accent thicker than usual, “I’ve taken such good care of my girl. Be good for me.”

Nodding, you dug your nails into his shoulders. You could be good. He had been so good to you after all. Still your vision blurred and it had taken a while longer for him to finally go still inside of you. 

Hannibal kissed the side of your head, before pulling you to lay down against him. His thumb wiped away the stray tear that had managed to fall. “You did so well for me. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You sighed sleepily, curling into his side more comfortably, “I’m alright. Just want you.”

“We’ll take care of you later,” he promised, seeing how tired you were, “You should rest, darling. I’ll be right here.” His hand rested on your hip, thumbing at forming bruise gently. Between the soft touch and his quiet humming, it didn’t take long for you to find sleep. 

NextChapter

[chocolatecakecas]

Quality Family Time: Baby Jack ficlet

for the bah discord besties<3

In Dean's humble opinion, the week was off to a pretty good start. Sunday, he and Cas took Jack to the library and let him go wild in the children's section, then let him run off his "excitement about literature" in the park, ending with lunch at their favorite diner, which is Dean's humble opinion qualifies as a pretty great Sunday afternoon. And then Sammy and Eileen finished up their hunt earlier than expected, and they even brought back Claire and Kaia as a surprise. Meaning they got to all have a much-needed family dinner, movie night, and catch up with the girls. And they decided to stay for a few days, which meant extra babysitters, which really meant, he and Cas could have their date night this week. And of course it also meant Dean had a few days to just hang out with his family, watch some movies, watch his kids bond, run some stupid errands, cook some big meals. 

Now it was Wednesday, and Dean was spending the day with Eileen and Jack, while the others opted to help Sam with the supply run. Eileen was getting a movie queued up for Jack's nap, while Dean got a start on some laundry.  

(read the rest under the cut)

He was currently running out to the garage to grab the blanket he keeps folded in Baby's trunk, smiling fondly at the memory of Monday's date night.  

So yeah as far as Wednesdays go, Dean was having a pretty good one.

At least, he was.

Dean's stomach dropped as he flicked the lights on, barely registering the clang of his keys hitting the floor, standing frozen in the doorway.  

He's hallucinating, he must be. There's absolutely no way that-

He squeezed his eyes shut, counting to ten while he tried to will away the hallucination with his mind. But unfortunately for Dean, he didn't have that kind of mind power, because that thing was still sitting there when he opened his eyes.

Fuck.

Forcing his feet to move, Dean stepped further into the garage, reaching out a shaking hand as he inched forward. 

He'll just touch it and his hand will go through it, and he can blame this hallucination on that questionable burger he ate at some local joint they all went to last night. It'll be fi-

Dean's blood turned to ice as his hand connected with cool metal. He quickly jumped back in shock, jaw hitting the floor.

Because last time he checked, Dean didn't leave an 18 foot long Lightning McQueen sitting in his beloved Baby's parking spot. 

He tried to speak but all that came out was an incoherent squeak, as he raced around the car inspecting every inch of it.

He couldn't get any of the doors open or the hood for that matter, but as far as he could tell it seemed to be a real car, despite being a cartoon look-a-like. 

Well, at least it wasn't talking. 

"Ka-chow"

Dean slumped over onto the roof of the car, banging his head, fists following in defeat.

Because there was a Lightning McQueen look-a-like with a toy voice box, parked in the garage of their super top-secret underground Bunker, in place of one of his most prized possessions. 

Maybe he spoke too soon about having a pretty good Wednesday. 

Why is this happening? How did this thing get in here? Where is his Baby? Is she alright? Can he even get her back? How the hell did this ev-

Son of a bitch. 

"Jack!" Dean called, voice coming out more strangled than he'd care to admit. 

Of course. Cars had become Jack's new obsession over the past week, they first watched it on Friday night and he's insisted on watching it at least once a day ever since. 

Dean groaned scrubbing his hands down his face. There's truly never a dull moment with a half-Nephilim toddler. 

Jack probably didn't even realize what happened. Sometimes his powers react before his mind can catch up with them, like when he subconsciously made all of his toys come to life after Toy Story became his favorite movie. The kid probably didn't even know about the Cars wannabe parked in the garage, besides his kid would never tamper with Bab-

"Dee! You found Lightning!" 

Dean's jaw once again found its way back down to the floor. His own kid.

He turned to see his four-year-old come bounding into the garage, practically bursting with joy.

"What the hell"

Dean tore his gaze away from Jack to see Eileen frozen in the doorway, who's jaw also joined Dean's on the floor. 

"Look see it's just like Lightning, Dee!" Jack cheered as he ran over to check out the car, regaining Dean's attention.

"Uh...ye-yeah buddy. I-I can see that bu-" Dean began sounding pained, only to be cut off by Jack.

"It's a real car, Dee. You can drive it! And look I gots all the stickers on it too"

"Yeah kiddo, bu-"

"And it can talk too! It says all of Lightning's things! Do you like it Dee? Where you surprised?" Jack asked as he wrapped himself around Dean's legs, smiling up at him without a care in the world.

Dean still mostly in shock, glanced up at Eileen who looked to be in the same boat, except she was holding back barely contained laughter. 

Great no help from his best friend, traitor. So Dean shakily knelt down placing his hands on Jack's shoulders.

"Listen, Squirt. I was definitely surprised. But yo-"

"Oh my god"

Dean's head jerked up to see Sam, Cas, Claire, and Kaia now standing with Eileen in the doorway, dropped grocery bags spilling out onto the floor. All of them too stunned to move, except for Cas who luckily must have noticed the distress in Dean's eyes.

"Jack, Baby. What is this?" Cas asked, quickly making his way over to them, quickly kneeling down beside Dean.

"I made Baby into Lightning! Ta da!"

"Wait, that thing is my Baby?" Dean asked voice cracking. 

And of course, that's what did it.

Sam doubled over in laughter, Eileen, Claire, and Kaia quickly following, and Cas was beside him, clearly trying to conceal his laughter.

"God this is the best thing I've ever seen" Sam wheezed in the background, and if Dean weren't still reeling he'd walk right over and punch him. 

Cas placed a grounding hand on Dean's shoulder, all while trying to bite back his smile. Well, Dean appreciated the gesture, at least he was trying to be considerate, unlike some people he knew.

"Bug, do you remember what Daddy and I told you about using your powers?" Cas begins, trying and failing to sound stern.

"That I can't make my toys be alive! And I didn't Baby isn't alive, and she's not even a toy!" Jack explains with a smile. 

"Yea-yeah Squirt, but the second part of that little talk was that you shouldn't use your powers unless you ask Daddy, or me, or Uncle Sammy or Aunt Eileen, remember?" Dean supplied after he finally got his gears spinning again.

"Ooooohhh. Oops, sorry!"Jack shrugs and he even had half a mind to at least look a little bit sorry, but it's drowned out by another fresh wave of laughter.

"I'm so glad we decided to stay longer, does stuff like this happen all the time?" Kaia laughed behind him, as Claire wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Oh I'm so glad my distress is amusing to all of you!" Dean shot back, voice still a little unsteady, which only caused them to laugh harder. Cas met his eyes, as he squeezed his shoulder, scooting closer.

"Squirt it's okay, just uh don't do it again....now where exactly is the real Baby?" Dean asked cutting right to the chase, not missing the look Cas gave him for glossing over the whole "don't use your powers without asking" lesson.

But there was time for that later, because right now his Baby was currently a firetruck red cartoon racecar with eyes.

"That is Baby. I just made her look like that, it's her. See!" Jack explained jumping up and dragging Dean over. Everyone else followed suit, Sam giving him a shit eating grin as he handed Dean the discarded keys.

To Dean's surprise, the key unlocked the car just like baby, and the interior looked exactly the same.

"Wow kid, this is honestly pretty cool" Claire complimented with a low whistle, which earned her a death glare from Dean, only making her laugh harder.

Unbelievable. All of his kids have it out for his car today.

Dean heaved a sigh as he watched his family examine every inch of the car, not bothering to hold back their laughter at this point.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing we didn't watch How to Train Your Dragon" Cas quipped wrapping Dean in his arms as he pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Dean flopped over and laid his forehead on Cas's shoulder, letting a soft laugh escape.

"Yeah well, at least my car wouldn't have been caught in the crossfire" Dean groaned back, feeling Cas' laugh rumble in his chest.

"Yes I know this is a tragedy, clearly the real live dragons would have caused less damage-well less emotional damage anyway"

"Woah, look at that, he's got jokes. Alright everyone step away from the racecar" Dean smirked, yelling that last bit as he pushed away from Cas' chest. He made his way over to Jack who was currently in the driver's seat (keys nowhere near the ignition of course), showing everyone how the horn says McQueen catchphrases now.

"Alright Houdini, while the Lightning McQueen trick was very cool, and we've reminded you that we don't use powers unless we ask. It's time to turn him back into Baby, capiche?" Dean said in the most no-nonsense tone he could manage as he kneelt down to Jack's level.

And of course Dean's very logical, very simple, very warranted request resulted in an uproar from his family.

"Wait you aren't even gonna take it for a spin?"

"You've literally got thee Lightning McQueen sitting in your garage"

"Dean c'mon one dri-"

"Nope. Not happening. Now way am I driving that thing" Dean cut in, flinging his arms out for emphasis and effectively silencing the traitor-his family.

Then he felt a little tug on his shirt.

"Please Dee? One time, then I change Baby back?" Jack asked with his best puppy dog eyes, and Dean quickly made a mental note to kick Sam's ass for teaching him that.

And as he slowly tilted his head back up, he was met with four pleading faces, all hovering around the car He desperately turned his gaze towards Cas knowing he'd be the voice of reason, he'd neve-

"Well, it would be a waste not to take the car for at least one ride" Cas shrugged almost sheepishly, barely hiding his grin. Dean stared back into his eyes trying to will him to change his mind, but he knew it was pointless.

Dean sighed his defeat, running a hand down his face. Damnit

"Fine, one drive-and I mean one. Twenty minutes tops" He shouted, throwing his hands in air in exasperation as everyone cheered.

And when Dean found himself driving back to the bunker four hours later, he and failed tried to hid his smile. He glanced in the mirror at Claire and Jack passed out, while Kaia and Sam held a whispered conversation in the magically (which Jack may or may not have had a hand in) stretched out backseat. Eileen turned in the front seat joining the conversation, as Cas sat in the middle, pressed up against Dean.

Cas gave his hand a squeezing, shooting him a knowing smile, which only earned a nudge from Dean.

So yeah, maybe Dean did almost have a heart attack earlier in the day. And maybe he did have to let a bunch of annoying people in the next town over pose for pictures with the car when they stopped for dinner. And maybe the horn said "Ka-chow" and "I am speed". And maybe the drive was more than twenty minutes. But in Dean's humble opinion, it was still a pretty good Wednesday after all.

Lightning McQueen be damned.

Tag list pt 1:

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @subbydean @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without

@tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149 @dakiaty @seffersonjtarship @angeltiddies @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @jewishdeanwinchester @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @aestheticflyer26

@athenixrose @slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @thiscowboyisbisexual @carverera @milfcodeddean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie

[redrobin-detective]

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

[mrpenguinpants]

Bennett: Affection HCs

I KNEW I HAD THIS ASK IN MY INBOX AND I JUST READ BENNETT’S BIRTHDAY LETTER TO YOU SO I SAID FUCK IT. I’M WRITING THIS. I MAY HAVE 2 FICS IN THE PROCESS BUT I CARE ABOUT BENNETT SO MUCH. 

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Xiao Ver: Affection HCs

Bennet: Windblume Love Letter HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

 @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact​ @morthecreator​ @ aanne2601 @aklxojjk​ @fulltimeventisimp​ @hanniejji​

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Bennett: Affection HCs

Bennett has so much love and affection to share but he’s also so shy and awkward in his delivery. It’s so endearing that you can’t help but but try and stifle your giggles lest he get more embarrassed. He just get’s so nervous since this is his first relationship and he knows his track record on luck isn’t super bright so he’s always fumbling. Trying to force his nerves away when he wants to hold your hand but as soon as he reaches out to lace your fingers, you’ll turn around, and Bennett throws his arm back so hard that he accidently pops his shoulder out of his socket. While you’re fretting over him he’s trying to reassure you that he’s completely fine and that this happens all the time. Which isn’t very comforting, he thinks things could have been worse. What if he accidently slips and drags you down with him or even worse, his pyro vision acts up and he has sweaty hands? He’s screaming internally at that.

Bennett totally reads romance novels to get a better understanding on what a relationship is like but his execution is a bit questionable. He tries to be suave and attempts to wrap his arm around your shoulder but he accidently slips halfway and he’s fallen into the fountain. But when he hears your barely contained chuckles as you try and help him out, he can’t help but feel a flutter in his chest that he doesn’t mind the unlucky accidents that happen to him if it makes you laugh. He’ll shake the water out of his hair and grin at you before he takes your hand in his and you both go back to the church to dry him off.

Whenever he sees you he has to take a couple minutes to calm his heart. Even when he’s out with Fischl and she’s talking in her special way, as soon as he catches sight of you, he’s sighing in adoration with the love-sick puppy eyes. That’s when Fischl knows she’s completely lost Bennett and you’re probably behind her. She sighs out a bit exasperated as she shrugs before she’s dragging him to meet up with you. No matter how red Bennett gets or what he’s yelling, Fischl has a death grip on him and grins smugly before she calls out your name to let you know someone’s got heart eyes for you.

While he’s extremely grateful to the Adventures guild and Mondstadt, having you beside him really hits deep. That you accept and love him despite the unlucky streak he has. You are so special in his eyes and the fact you choose to stay with him makes him sniffle a bit. Somedays he wakes up and can’t help but feel the rush of happiness he feels just being able to see your smiling face. He might get poked fun from his Dads but it’s completely worth it. It’s actually really wholesome when Bennett wants to introduce you to his family since they already know plenty about you because Bennett will literally not shut up about you.

The praise he receives from his dads and Katherine make him grin happily but when you praise him, he ends up growing so shy and pink. Awkwardly scratching at his cheek as he says it wasn’t that big of a deal just because he wants to hear you praise him more. He’s pretty hard on himself so your words really mean a lot to him. Likewise, Bennett is super optimistic. He’s your #1 cheerleader and it’s contagious adopting his positivity outlook on life. Whatever you’re interested in or wish to do, he’s fully on board and supportive.

He’s always coming back from his adventures with scraps and cuts that it really concerns you when Bennett shakes his pain away. He’s always had a head-first battle tactic that’s not easy to change in one day, so instead you ask Barbara to teach your some healing abilities or tips to try and help him out a bit. While you’re a bit clumsy and not as well-versed as Barbara. Bennett still hugs you with so much force as he exclaims he’s never felt so empowered before.

When Bennett feels sad, he’ll lean his shoulder against yours and close his eyes. Slowly moving down until it’s his head against your arm. He stays there before you reach over and place his head in your lap and slowly run your fingers through his hair. It’s a small and ordinary moment but it means the whole world to Bennett.

Bennett always keeps whatever you give him in a special pouch, from a small slip of paper wishing him luck to the small four leaf clover you gave him, it’s always on him whenever he sets out. He knows that despite his best wishes, you can’t spent every waking moment together and he doesn’t want to endanger you with his bad luck on more dangerous expeditions. He actually full on bawled when you said you wanted to join the "Benny's Adventure Team" and actually stuck around even after all the unfortunate incidents that happened. But whenever he’s far away from Mondstadt, away from you, he’ll take a small break and go through the small trinkets you’ve given to him with the softest smile as he handles them with care. They are his treasures after all.

It’s been a rather challenging adventure today. Bennett and you took on a commission to investigate a hilichurl camp on Starsnatch cliff only to run across an Eye of the Storm instead. While you both managed to defeat it, you both got your fair share of cuts from the anemo winds and the hard ground when you had to dive away from the orb crashing down. You’re silently thanking yourself for taking those lessons from Barbara as you’re trying to patch him up. 

“Sorry, I didn’t expect an Eye of Storm to appear instead. I guess my bad luck is spreading again,” Bennett chuckles awkwardly to himself as he winces a tiny bit at the throb of his cuts. You simply shake it off as you try and gently place the cloth back on his cheek to wipe away the small amount of blood. You’re just happy that you both managed to get away from that monster without any serious injuries. 

“Don’t say that Bennett, we defeated it didn’t we? That’s one less problem for the Adventures guild right?” you say as you smile encouragingly at him. He nods in silent agreement but his eyes rake over the cuts and on arms and knees and he can’t help feel sadden. He gently pushes your hands away from his injury's as he opens his own pouch that carries his adhesive bandages to place upon your scrapes.

“Bennett?” you question. You’re so used to the happy go lucky Bennett that this sudden quiet atmosphere looms above you as Bennett quickly returns the favour. It’s only when he takes a small moment to scan your body for anything he missed before he takes your hands in his. Rubbing small circles over your skin, whether he’s trying to comfort you or himself into speaking you’re not entirely sure. 

“There’s a dream I want to tell you about. I want to find the most valuable treasure to give back to Mondstadt and get our Adventures guild to become the biggest branch in Teyvat. That way my Dad’s can take a break and we can go adventuring all over the world. We can go visit Fischl at her home or take Razor to see the ocean!” he grins happily at you as his eyes light up in such a way that it takes you a few moments to register what he’s saying. You can feel such a rush of love pour into your system at his wholesome dream that you can’t help but clutch his hands closer to yourself. 

“I’ll stay beside you the entire time and I promise we’ll make your dream a reality. Benny's Adventure Team will be the greatest adventure team there ever was,” you lean forward and boop your nose against his, “But you need to take better care of yourself first mister.”

“Now come on. Let’s go home together Bennett,” you smile down at him as you stand up and extend your hand out to him. It takes a few moments for Bennett to act as he gazes up at you. The hand that’s been placed in front of him as support in so many of his unlucky incidents, covered in the bandages he carries around from the family he cares about, the hand that is still there after everything. Bennet knows he’s always been unlucky. That’s just the way it is. He’s always running on what drops of luck he can grab and live life to the fullest but right now. Even with the dull stings of anemo winds on his cheeks, the throb of new bruises he’s probably developing, he reaches out and takes your hand. He’s never felt luckier in his entire life.

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Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go gag on the sugar I just wrote. I may have strayed away from the affection hcs but I care about Bennett and his character stories cripples me. I had to re-write this so there are some issues but I’m tired. Either way, Happy birthday best boy 💕💕💕

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.  

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.  

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.  

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?  

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.  

[dracowars]

could u write where draco and y/n tells scorpius how they met, their relationship etc etc throughout hogwarts ☹️☹️ and scorpius is just like omg :O and maube y/n can be a hufflepuff so like a super cute slytherpuff relationship ARGH (ofc u dont need to do it 👍🏻 no pressure!! have a great day 🤍)

undying love | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x hufflepuff!reader

word count: 1,5k

summary: where draco and y/n tell scorpius about their love story

a/n: i love family tropes :( thank you for sending this in! <3

warnings: none

universe: harry potter

“Mommy, look what I found!”, your son calls for you through the house and shortly afterwards you can hear him coming down the stairs at an unbelievable speed, running to you in the kitchen. With a cup of tea and the latest edition of the Daily Prophet, you sit at the dining table and look at Scorpius as he walks towards you with what looks like a photo in his tiny hands.

“Look, look!”, Scorpius says excitedly while placing the moving picture on the table in front of you. A gentle smile forms on your lips as you take a closer look. The magical photo shows Draco, your friends and you at your graduation from Hogwarts so many years ago. You proudly hold your certificates in front of the camera, the traditional graduation hats on your heads, waiting for the enchanted boats, that took you to Hogwarts prior to the start of your very first year, ready to leave Hogwarts forever.

At the sight, beautiful memories of your school days come up inside of you and you have to hold back a sob until you notice that Scorpius’ big, interested puppy eyes are still on you.

“Yes, that is us, Scorpius darling”, you smile at him gently and pull him onto your lap in order to take a closer look at the picture together.

“But Mommy had completely different hair then!”, Scorpius giggles and points at your former self, which is smiling brightly into the camera with Draco’s arm tightly embracing you and pressing you against him. “And the hats look funny!”

“That is true. The photo was taken several years ago. It was when we graduated from Hogwarts. You know, in a few years, you will be going there too. It is a special school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is for young magicians, to teach them everything they need for their life in the Wizarding World”, you explain to your son, whose gaze is still fixed on the photo.

“Mommy and Daddy have been a couple for that long?”, Scorpius marvels at your words and averts his gaze as he shifts on your lap to look up at you. Kissing him on the forehead, you smile and nod.

Before you can tell him more about it, however, the slamming of the front door announces that Draco is back home.

“Daddy!”, Scorpius immediately exclaims excitedly and hops down from your lap, takes the photo from the table and rushes to the entrance. Because of Draco’s following laughter coming from the hallway, Scorpius must have happily thrown himself around his father’s neck as he usually does as a welcome.

With Scorpius in his arms, your husband finally walks into the kitchen while Scorpius is babbling incoherently. Not quite sure what it is about, Draco just smiles before greeting you with a tender kiss before putting Scorpius back down on your lap.

“Look, Daddy! Look what I found! That is you!”, your son giggles and hands Draco the photo. A big grin immediately decorates his lips when he looks at the picture and he sits down at the table with you.

“Oh yes, it really is us. But we were still pretty young then”, Draco chuckles and Scorpius fidgets on your lap, wanting to know as much as possible while leaning forward.

“How was it at Hogmarts?”, Scorpius asks innocently and due to the misnomer, you and Draco can’t help but giggle in unison before Draco softly tousles your son’s white hair, which he naturally inherited from his father.

“It was a great time that I would not want to miss for anything in the world. If I had not gone there, I would have never met Mommy”, Draco explains, getting Scorpius’ full attention. “Just wait until you are eleven years old. You will experience incredible adventures that you would not even dare to dream of right now.”

“Eleven?!”, Scorpius huffs out in shock and puts on an offended expression while crossing his arms in front of his body. “That is too long! I want to go there now.”

“I am afraid you will have to wait a little longer, but I am sure that you will become a great wizard someday”, you reassure Scorpius, although you feel a little nervous inside. Yes, you have had wonderful adventures that ultimately made you stronger. Still, most of them were extremely dangerous, and it was not just once that you skipped death.

“Once you are in Hogwarts, you have to make sure to get into Slytherin”, Draco mentions, earning a shocked expression from you.

“No way! Scorpius will definitely be a Hufflepuff. I mean, look at him!”, you deny your husband’s statement and softly squish your son’s cheeks. “It is in his blood.”

“What is a Slinger and Pufflehuff?”, Scorpius asks interested, looking up at both of you.

“There are four different houses at Hogwarts that every student is placed in during the Sorting Ceremony at the beginning of their first year. I was a Slytherin, the best house there is. You will get into Slytherin if you are resourceful, determined and ambitious. Your mother, however, was in Hufflepuff”, Draco explains to Scorpius, a disparaging tone in his voice as he talks about your house. “Only the uncool children who are patient and loyal go there. Totally boring.”

“Draco!”, you utter out indignantly and give him a slap on the upper arm.

“I want to be a Slytherin”, Scorpius decides and while Draco is obviously happy about this statement, you can only shake your head in disbelief. “But if you do not like Mommy’s house, why did you fall in love?”

In response to Scorpius’ straight forward question, even Draco’s words get stuck in his throat and he does not know what to say next.

“Oh exactly, why did you fall in love with me when I was so extremely boring?”, you mock him playfully, raising your eyebrows as you now look at him expectantly.

“In the end, everyone is the same, no matter what family or house you come from. You must know, Scorpius, your mother actually hated me, but she just could not resist me and my charm”, Draco winks at you while telling his lie – well, maybe not all of it is a lie.

“Your father was really obnoxious when he was younger. Always considered himself the most sublime and someone had to teach him otherwise and get him back to the ground. He really did not like that it was a girl from Hufflepuff who taught him a lesson in the end”, you giggle and make Scorpius laugh with your story.

“That is not funny! Everyone laughed at me after you turned me into a weasel!”

“Wow! You can do that?”, Scorpius asks amazed and turns to you while you reach for your wand that lays on the table, nodding.

“And I could do it again anytime”, you threaten your husband and point the tip of your wand at him, but he does not move a bit.

“You would not dare. Unless you want all your books to fly around your head again”, Draco replies, thus awakening the painful memory of when he had bewitched your books and they literally flew around your head.

“Actually, your father always did all of this to impress me. At some point it might have actually worked”, you continue to tell Scorpius about your love story, a love story which is probably not that common.

“If I had not negotiated an armistice back then by taking you to the Yule Ball, then maybe we would not be here today.”

“And if I had not given you another chance, I would probably never have found out what a great person you actually are”, you smile at him lovingly, while Scorpius just sits in front of you with his mouth wide open, listening intently. “Suddenly, Daddy was very friendly and attentive, he bought me gifts every week until I finally showed mercy and returned his love.”

“What are you even talking about? I clearly had to reciprocate your love, not the other way around!”, Draco intervenes immediately, although you both know exactly that what you said is true. He just wants to look cooler in front of his son.

“Mommy and Daddy loved each other very much and that is why I am here”, Scorpius grins, leaving you two speechless yet again, ending your little argument.

“You are right. And I could not have asked for anything better in my life than your mother, Scorpius. Had she not been there a few times, I would have done very stupid things. I am very grateful that we have found each other and that we now also have you in our life. I could not think of anything more beautiful”, Draco admits, and his demeanor is suddenly so loving and gentle, something he was afraid to show back then. Something you taught him to not hide but to show openly.

“Your father and I, we complete each other. We always did”, you reply as you all take a look at the photo again. “I would even say that we are even happier now than we are in this picture.”

[bringbackthebastard]

Bring Back the Bastard Daily Prompts

Hello, folks! I'm posting these two weeks before we begin our fest, on September 1st, to give folks some inspiration on what to write each day as we celebrate Severus Snape's pettiest, most dastardly moments. I specifically picked out moments Snaters always harp on, that Snapedom personally enjoys--from any moment with Trevor to bitching at Lupin at Sirius, to the moments that Lily turns away and Dumbledore's face flashes with disgust--sure, he's a bastard, but he's our bastard, and that's what we like about him. You don't want him? Good. We'll keep him. Here are 30 scene prompts for 30 days--it's a long list, pulled chronologically from all seven books, but I found that it reminded me of everything I love about this character. The moments where he's called deranged, the moments where he slips into all-caps, the ugliest moments of the soul. Hope yall enjoy. Excited to kick off the fest starting September 1st, and absolutely excited to see what Snapedom will do. Let's Bring Back the Bastard! The prompts are below the readmore.

Day 1: The Scar Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacheer with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes--and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead. "Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head. "What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look--a felling that he didn't like Harry at all. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to--everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Day 2: Bad Impressions Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new--celebrity."

Day 3: Potions Class "Potter!" said Snape suddenly "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand shot into the air. "I don't know, sir," said Harry. Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut--fame clearly isn't everything."

Day 4: A Horrible Sight Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages. "Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but-- "POTTER!" Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped. "I just wondered if I could have my book back." "GET OUT! OUT!"

Day 5: Maybe He's Ill "Hang on..." Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table...Where's Snape?" Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic, and disliked by everybody except the students from his own House (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions. "Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully. "Maybe he's left," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again!" "Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him--" "Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

Day 6: Slytherin Takes the Field "But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "But I booked it!" "Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

Day 7: No Quidditch For You! "I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest." "Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong." Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly. Snape looked furious.

Day 8: Expelliarmus! "Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry--you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" "Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear. Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at *him* like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them. "As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our fist spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course." "I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth. "One--two--three--" Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Day 9: Only Bite Him A Little Bit, Please "Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."

Day 10: Poisoning Trevor The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron. "Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned." The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small op, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm. The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown. "Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

Day 11: Insufferable Know-It-All Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air. "Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between--" "We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on--" "Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..." "Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf--" "That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Fire more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Day 12: Your Saintly Father "I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter," he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you--your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't gotten cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts." Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared.

Day 13: Don't Talk About What You Don't Understand "KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end o his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent. "Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you..." "The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" --he jerked his head at Ron-- "I'll come quietly...." "Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black...pleased enough to give you a little Kiss, I daresay...."

Day 14: A Great Disappointment "He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have let somebody in the room with him. When this gets out--" "HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE *OR* DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS--HAS--SOMETHING--TO--DO--WITH--POTTER!" "Severus--be reasonable--Harry has been locked up--" BAM. The door of the hospital wing burst open. Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself. "OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" "Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!" "See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw--" "THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth. "Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!" "YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT--" "That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the war ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?" "Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!" "Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further." Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward. "Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore." "Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Dumbledore quietly. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

Day 15: Haven't You Heard? "Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er--Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'....Thought everyone'd know by now...Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night...He's packin' now, o' course."

Day 16: I See No Difference "And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain." "Potter attacked me, sir--" "We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted. "--and he hit Goyle--look--" Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi. "Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly. "Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!" He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth--she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back. Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Day 17: The Dark Mark Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He struck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled. "There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eater to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Day 18: If You Are Ready...If You Are Prepared... "Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...if you are prepared..." "I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely. "Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.

Day 19: Obviously "Now...how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard. "Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable. His eyes on Snape, Harry added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange. "You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape. "Yes," said Snape quietly. "But you were unsuccessful?" Snape's lip curled. "Obviously." Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. "And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?" "Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry. "Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge. "I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily. "Oh I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile. "I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed. "Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers'--er--backgrounds...." She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson, and began questioning her about the lessons. Snape looked around at Harry and their eyes met for a second. Harry hastily dropped his gaze to his potion, which was now congealing foully and giving off a strong smell of burned rubber. "No marks again, then, Potter," said Snape maliciously, emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand. "You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?"

Day 20: Very Like His Father "How touching," Snape sneered. "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?" Yes, I have," said Sirius proudly. "Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape said sleekly. Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table toward Snape, pulling out his wand as he went; Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius' wand-tip to his face. "Sirius!" said Harry loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear him. "I've warned you, Snivellus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better." "Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months very seriously?" "Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?" "Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform...gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?" Sirius raised his wand. "NO!" Harry yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them, "Sirius, don't--" "Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge. "Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.

Day 21: Wormtail's Whine "We...we are alone, aren't we?" Narcissa asked quietly. "Yes, of course. Well, Wormtail's here, but we're not counting vermin, are we?" He pointed his wand at the wall of books behind him and with a bang, a hidden door flew open, revealing a narrow staircase upon which a small man stood frozen. "As you have clearly realized, Wormtail, we have guests," said Snape lazily. The man crept, hunchbacked, down the last few steps and moved into the room. He had small, watery eyes, a pointed nose, and wore an unpleasant simper. His left hand was caressing his right, which looked as though it was encased in a bright silver glove. "Narcissa!" he said, in a squeaky voice. "And Bellatrix! How charming--" "Wormtail will get us drinks, if you'd like them," said Snape. "And then he will return to his bedroom." Wormtail winced as though Snape had thrown something at him. "I am not your servant!" he squeaked, avoiding Snape's eyes. "Really? I was under the impression that the Dark Lord placed you here to assist me." "To assist, yes--but not to make you drinks and--clean your house!" "I had no idea, Wormtail, that you were craving more dangerous assignments," said Snape silkily. "This can be easily arranged: I shall speak to the Dark Lord--" "I can speak to him if I want to!" "Of course you can," said Snape, sneering. "But in the meantime, bring us drinks. Some of the elf-made wine will do."

Day 22: A Loving Caress Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view. "The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible." Harry stared at Snape. It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy, another to speak of them, as Snape was doing, with a loving caress in his voice? "Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" --he indicated a few of them as he swept past-- "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" --he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony-- "feel the Dementor's Kiss" --a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall-- "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" --a bloody mass upon the ground.

Day 23: Better People "What does it matter?" said Malfoy. "Defense Against the Dark Arts--it's all just a joke, isn't it, an act? Like an of us need protecting against the Dark Arts--" "It is an act that is crucial to success, Draco!" said Snape. "Where do you think I would have been all these years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if you are placing your reliance in assistants like Crabbe and Goyle--" "They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!" "Then why not confide in me, and I can--" "I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!" There was another pause, then Snape said coldly, "You are speaking like a child. I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment has upset you, but--"

Day 24: Revulsion and Hatred Etched on His Face "Severus..." The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading. Snape said nothing, but walked forward and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed. Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. "Severus...please..." Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra!"

Day 25: Don't Call Me Coward Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi-- "No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. He could hear Hagrid yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on him where he lay, wandless and defenseless as Dumbledore had been. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore. "You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them--I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, woudl you? I don't think so...no!" Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight. "Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward--" "DON'T--" screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly deranged, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them-- "CALL ME COWARD!"

Day 26: The Guest Voldemort raised Lucius Malfoy's wand, pointed it directly at the slowing revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds. "Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort. Snape raised his eyes to the upside-down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as thought they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!" "Ah, yes," said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

Day 27: I Regret It "All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner...and I think I have the answer." Snape did not speak. "Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen." "My Lord--" "The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine." "My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand. "It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last." And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue. "Kill." There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor. "I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

Day 28: You Hurt Her! "Tuney!" said Lily, surprise and welcome in her voice, but Snape had jumped to his feet. "Who's spying now?" he shouted. "What d'you want?" Petunia was breathless, alarmed at being caught. Harry could see her struggling for something hurtful to say. "What is that you're wearing, anyway?" she said, pointing at Snape's chest. "Your mum's blouse?" There was a *crack*. A branch over Petunia's head had fallen. Lily screamed: The branch caught Petunia on the shoulder, and she staggered backward and burst into tears. "Tuney!" But Petunia was running away. Lily rounded on Snape. "Did you make it happen?" "No." He looked both defiant and scared. "You did!" She was backing away from him. "You *did*! You hurt her!" "No--no I didn't!" But the lie did not convince Lily: After one last burning look, she ran from the little thicket, off after her sister, and Snape looked miserable and confused....

Day 29: Save Your Breath "I'm sorry." "I'm not interested." "I'm sorry!" "Save your breath." It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. "I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here." "I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just--" "Slipped out?" There was no pity in Lily's voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends--you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?" He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. "I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine." "No--listen, I didn't mean--" "--to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I any different?" He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole....

Day 30: Anything "If she means so much to you," said Dumbledore, "surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for the mother, in exchange for the son?" "I have--I have asked him--" "You disgust me," said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to drink a little. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?" Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore. "Hide them all, then," he croaked. "Keep her--them--safe. Please." "And what will you give me in return, Severus?" "In--in return?" Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, "Anything."

[soupbabe]

Could I get the Bucci gang and Diavolo with a ghost sibling? (like the one you did with Dio and the Crusaders) I really appreciate your writing and you've inspired me to try to write my own reader stories sometime!

Ghost Sibling HCs: Bucci Gang Edition! (+ Diavolo)

Oh my god that's so nice of you to say!! I think it's so cool that I actually inspired someone!! Ily so much anon!! <3 My only impression of Diavolo just has been his fight w Bruno, so I just wiki'd everything for him. So I apologise if he's not entirely in character!! Also, I genuinely had nothing for Abbacchio so he's not in this one. I really hope you don't mind

Warnings!: Goes into how reader died, Spoilers for Part 5, and Mentions of abuse from Giorno's part! Please stay safe !

Bruno Bucciarati

You were an older sibling of Bruno and you also stuck around with your father when the divorce came along

You commonly worked along with your father and ended up getting murdered when the gangsters infiltrated the boat

While your father was able to survive, you died at the scene. Your soul set to haunt the surrounding dock

Although it was tricky trying to see you due to the lingering fear of potential gangsters, Bruno always managed to find a way to visit you

It was hard for the younger Bucciarati, he cared about you as much as he did his father

Almost every visit was paired with a somber undertone, no matter how normal you tried to make it

But you were proud of Bruno and the man he's become today and you two still keep in touch

I do believe that as he gets older, he'd look at this place with a bit more fondness. Replacing the tragic memory of you and your father with all the times you tried to be there for him

When he became Capo, Bruno made certain to keep tabs on the small fishing village, making sure your resting place is in pristine condition

He's well aware that you might not get to pass on and he just wants to do what can to get you the best

Giorno Giovanna

You were Giorno's older step-sibling, having there be a 5-8 year age difference between the two of you

You were well aware of your father's abuse and did what you could to protect your little brother

Of course, your father didn't take too kindly to your behavior and it only made your punishments worse

One night, your father took out most of his anger onto you and it ended up killing you

Your soul latched onto Giorno, wanting to keep on protecting him even in death

You were there for him through everything and you were happy that he was able to find better family through the gang

And even in the gang, you were able to find your own peace in a way

(mostly) everyone welcomed you with open arms and it was a nice change of pace from talking to only Giorno for the past 10 or so years

Pannacotta Fugo

You were an older sibling, praised by your parents and used as an example for Fugo to follow

He never really resented you because of it though. You were helpful when he had the toughest lessons and treated him with the care that your parents never gave

I can imagine Fugo accidentally killing you during one of his rages, you got too close and he lashed out at you

As if he wasn't freaked out and panicked over your murder, seeing your ghost wasn't any better

He ignored any note of your presence, leaving it up to some hallucination rather than a ghost of all things

It took him a while to actually accept the fact that you're still with him and it was really awkward for a while

It made his guilt about the situation worse tbh, like it's been too long that he can't really apologize for what he did to you

And I don't imagine you being too happy either. Spending your eternity with your murderer and have him deny your existence for a couple of months does hurt

It's just one of those cases where your relationship couldn't be repaired after death, leaving you both to spend each other's company with an awkward weight on each other's shoulders

Both of you were never well taught in emotions so trying to cope with something as strange as this is not likely.

Narancia Ghirga

You were Narancia's twin sibling

you were just as loyal as him so you didn't bat an eye when he proposed that you both take Polpo's test

It's not like he would do it without you anyways, you two were a package deal

What he didn't take in account was you not surviving the stand arrow

It really did break Narancia seeing you dead and then seeing your ghost, looking like nothing happened

I feel like you haunting him furthers his denial of your actual death. That it doesn't actually matter since you're still next to him and able to laugh like nothing happened

It would be a combination of you and Bucciarati to help him with his grief, but he was still joyful to have you around

Even though you couldn't interact much with the physical world, he still invited you to his math lessons with Fugo and treated you as a valid member of the gang

Guido Mista

You were Mista's younger sibling that haunted his apartment

He'll admit that it was a bit freaky dealing with you at first, but he managed to adapt to it pretty quickly

He was able to live his usual carefree lifestyle, the added money from being apart of Passione was used for making the house a bit more comfortable

He felt bad that you couldn't leave and tried to make it more bearable

Plus he did it as an apology for all the times you cleaned up the pigsty that is his room

He also enjoyed that you were also free home security

He's made a couple of enemies in his time and having someone who can't be injured through typical means was helpful

He always enjoyed the occasional stories you told of the intruder's terrified faces at the fact that their guns and knives had no effect on you

But even if you were already dead, he'd ask for the faces of the idiots who disrespected and tried to kill to you.

Just because you're dead doesn't change the fact that you were still his family and he needed to teach those losers a lesson when you can't do it yourself.

Diavolo

Oh my god I'm so sorry for you

Listen, this man was not above attempted murder of his own daughter to hide his identity. You would've been one of his first targets

When he'd see that you never actually died, he would use whatever he had in his arsenal to get rid of you

But of course nothing worked, having to come to terms that you were a ghost

I don't think this could make his paranoia worse because technically you are gone and you can't go outside without him/Doppio, it's just a great inconvenience

He usually acts like you don't exist, yelling at you if you were to interact with the mafia boss

To Doppio you were only known to be a close friend of the boss and nothing else

He would happily chat with you, blissfully unaware that he was talking to a corpse

I think being anywhere near Diavolo in this state is a fate worst than death

Being around such a dark and negative energy already isn't good for the living, imagine how the dead feels

Plus not to mention the rough period of occasional murder attempts, all in new ways for Diavolo to get you gone for once and for all