Tumgik
#X Female Reader
honey-on-your-tongue · 15 hours
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Logan's favorite positionssssss 😫😫😫
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He is a doggy style man THROUGH AND THROUGH convince me otherwise. Holding your hips while he fucks you hard and deep and fast from behind? Yup, he could die a happy man there and then. Seeing your ass jiggle, your back arch, the way you bury your face into the pillows and whimper, “Daddy! Daddy!” are just some of his favorite things.
He's also a huge fan of you riding him. The way you whine, weak, legs exhausted from bouncing on his cock for hours and he just smirks and laughs as he sees you struggling. “C'mon, bub, you can do better than that,” he teases, grinning as tears of frustration fill your eyes. He'll keep teasing you until you finally lose it and he'll lift you up effortlessly, thrusting into you so hard you see stars. Plus, once you both have comed, he likes to watch his thick load drip out of you, milky white and sticky as it coats your thighs.
Missionary? Absolutely. Watching your face getting lost in ecstasy, your legs up on his shoulders, hands grabbing onto the bedsheets hard enough to tear them apart. Plus, he likes to lean down, kiss you softly—if he's feeling sweet. If not, he'll spit into your mouth and love how flustered and embarrassed you get. But he knows you love it since your pussy clenches around his cock tight and you get significantly wetter.
Last—but sure as fuck not least—bending you over. Jesus fucking Christ. Logan loves doing this. Especially over the bathroom sink. He'll grab your hair, pull your head back, make you watch how pathetic you look as he rams into you from behind. There's nothing that fuels his ego quite like watching you stare at your reflection, utterly embarrassed but unable to help it, as you let him use you like a fucking whore. You love it, he loves it. It's a win win for everyone.
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Hehehehehehe send help (or send this man, preferably 🫶)
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writingrock · 2 days
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before he leaves [1]
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pairings: prohero! katsuki bakugou, prohero! eijiro kirishima, prohero! denki kaminari x reader (female) summary: your prohero husband is being called away to a two-week long mission. this is how he says goodbye.
notes: fluff, mild suggestive content, established relationship (married), prohero husband, it's just really cute and sweet, I can't say much more.
word count: 3.7k
a/n: for @onlyisaa becuz apparantly putting bakugou in a timeout is unacceptable
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Bakugou’s been called in for a mission overseas. It’s rare, but when it happens, you know it’s something serious. The night before, you couldn’t help but fuss over every little detail. You’d double-checked all of his luggage, then triple-checked it. And now you’re pacing around the room with your mind running through everything he might need. You’d gone over his gear so many times that even Bakugou, usually patient with your worry, had enough. 
“Damn it, woman,” he grumbled, grabbing you by the waist and physically dragging you to bed. You’d protested at first, but he ignored you, muttering under his breath, “You need to quit worrying so much, you’re driving me crazy.”
Despite his words, there was a softness in the way he pulled you into his arms, his grip firm but comforting. His frustration was just his way of masking how much he appreciated your care. He knew you worried because you loved him, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it. Even as you lay there, you could feel him quietly shaking his head in amusement, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk as he muttered, "My dear wife, always stressing." 
Still, as much as he tried to calm your nerves, there was a part of him that understood. Missions like this didn’t come often, and both of you knew the stakes. And despite the bravado, despite his confidence, Bakugou knew how hard it was for you every time he had to leave.
It’s five in the morning now, and you’re standing by the door, watching as he slips his phone and passport into his pocket. You stifle a yawn, your voice still groggy from sleep. “How long will you be gone again?”
“Two weeks,” he replies gruffly, his eyes meeting yours. You frown at his answer. Two weeks felt like forever without him. Did he really have to go? Your thoughts are full of protest, but you keep them to yourself.
“Are you sure you have everything?” you ask again, for what feels like the hundredth time. Bakugou lets out an exasperated groan, his head tilting back as he closes his eyes in frustration. 
“Woman, for the last time, yes, I’ve got everything,” he grumbles, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His crimson eyes flick back to you, softening slightly despite the annoyance in his voice. “I’m not a damn rookie.”
You know he’s right, of course. Bakugou’s meticulous when it comes to preparation, probably more so than you are. Still, the thought of him leaving for two whole weeks on a dangerous mission makes your stomach twist in knots. You can’t help it— it’s in your nature to worry. And Bakugou knows that too.
He glances at you, and for a moment, his stern expression softens even more. He steps toward you, dropping his backpack onto the floor and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Hey,” he says, his voice lower now, gentler. “I’ve done this a million times. I’ll be fine.”
You nod, biting your lip, but he can see the lingering concern in your eyes. He sighs, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, and for a moment, you can pretend he’s not about to walk out the door.
“I’ve got everything, alright?” he murmurs against your hair. “Except maybe for one thing.”
You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that?”
He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You. But I’ll be back before you know it.”
Does he really have to go?
“Yes, I have to go,” he grumbles, reading your thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. You groan softly and stay wrapped in his embrace. Two weeks without him. His strong, muscular arms, the ones you’ll miss most, tighten around you as you press your face against his broad chest, nuzzling into him with a quiet sigh. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with his familiar scent— the mix of his skin and that faint, rugged cologne you love so much. It’s comforting, grounding, and you cling to it, knowing it’ll be a while before you get to experience this again.
“I’ll miss you.” You softly whisper in his chest to which he chuckles. His arms seem to squeeze you a little tighter. 
“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, savouring the comfort of your presence. He’d definitely miss his pretty wife.
You look up, meeting his gaze. His crimson eyes, still soft with sleep, linger on you with that private smile he shows only to you. His sharp features seem gentler in the dim morning light, and for a moment, you both just exist in each other’s company.
Wordlessly, the both of you share a deep kiss. An intimate mix of love and longing. His hand cradles your cheek as your arms loop loosely around his neck. Reluctantly, the both of you pull away. You sigh softly from the loss of contact. He keeps you close as he gazes into your eyes, his forehead resting against yours. The beautiful eyes of his lover. 
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours in one last, tender kiss before stepping back. You pout a little as his arms fall away, but you know he has to leave.
“I love you,” you say, voice tinged with a reluctant acceptance.
“I love you too,” he replies.
You watch as he picks up his luggage and heads to the car. Standing in the doorway, you call out after him, your voice echoing through the quiet morning.
“Text me updates!”
“I will!”
“And when you’re on the plane—”
“I know!”
“And call me when you get to the hotel!”
“Dammit, woman, I know!” he yells back, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his tone.
Exactly an hour and thirty-seven minutes later, your phone buzzes with a message from him. He’s reached the airport. Twenty minutes later, another text arrives to tell you that he’s checked in. 
Two hours pass, and your phone lights up again with a photo of him and his colleagues on the jet. He looks as sharp as ever, though there’s the usual trace of annoyance in his expression. And next to him were sheepish looking Red Riot and ChargeBolt. His message follows right after: They were late. Typical.
You smile at his grumbling, imagining him sitting there, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. Even from thousands of miles away, it’s like he’s right there with you, sharing his usual complaints.
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You watch Kirishima stretch in the morning light. His muscles ripples beneath his tanned skin as he works out the tension from his body. He’s seated at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. The broad back you love so much, facing you. Kirishima’s back is adorned with battle scars, each with their own battle-hardened tale. The scars stretch over his powerful frame and you feel rather tempted to reach out to touch them.
As he stretches his arms out to the sides, twisting slightly to loosen up, your eyes skirt over the fresh scratches running along his skin. Scratches you left from the night before. The memory of it stirs something warm inside you, and you can’t help but let a soft giggle escape your lips.
Upon hearing your fit of giggles, he pauses mid-stretch. Glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk on his lips. "What’s so funny?" he teases, his voice still a little raspy from sleep, but there's an unmistakable playfulness in his tone. 
“Just admiring my work.” you comment, referring to the latest addition of scratches on his back. He chuckles softly, replaying the events of last night in his head. It was a rather vigorous night. He needed that time with you, though. With a two-week mission ahead, he already knows how much he’s going to miss you. 
He practically jumps back into bed, sweeping you into his strong, muscular arms as if he can't bear to be away from you for another second. His lips find yours in a tender kiss before he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, planting soft, fluttery kisses along your skin. His lips trace over the bite marks he left behind last night, a reminder of the intimacy. 
For a moment, there's only the sound of your steady breathing and the quiet intimacy of the morning. Then, you break the silence, your voice still soft and hazy from sleep. “Do you have to go?” Your hand gently combs through his messy red hair, and he responds with a low hum of affirmation, his teeth grazing your neck playfully, causing a shiver to run through you. 
“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “but I have to.” 
He rises slightly, hovering over you, his gaze tender as he takes in your sleepy features. His hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if memorizing every detail. He’s going to miss you—more than he can express.
You're the reason he’s not in the shower yet. The reason he’s still in bed, holding you close instead of gearing up or standing by the door. He’s prolonging every second he has with you, delaying the inevitable because leaving you feels harder than the mission itself. He knows he's late, that he should already be in the shower, getting ready for the mission. His gear should be laid out, his mind focused on the tasks ahead. But here he is, unable to leave your side.
He knows his hero partner will yell at him.
But how could he resist his beautiful wife?
You know he’s running late too, but you don’t care. Shifting up from the bed, you lazily loop your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his warm, broad back. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you settle into him.
“I’ll miss you,” you murmur, breathing in his familiar scent, already knowing you’ll be raiding his closet the moment he’s gone, wrapping yourself in whatever he leaves behind.
“I’ll miss you more,” Kirishima replies, his voice full of warmth. You can’t see the smile on his face, but you feel it in the way his muscles relax under your touch, the way his words come out soft and sincere.
What time is it? You glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. Six in the morning? He's definitely getting yelled at. A quiet chuckle escapes you as you loosen your grip around him.
“It’s six,” you say, a playful warning in your tone.
“I know,” he groans, clearly aware of the trouble he's in.
“He’s going to kill you.”
Kirishima just laughs softly. “I’ll survive—gotta come back to you.” His words make you laugh, and as you release him, he turns to face you with that toothy grin you’ve always loved.
Just as Kirishima leans in to kiss you, his phone rings, cutting the moment short. A loud groan escapes his lips as he checks the caller ID. He glances at you, a dry chuckle slipping out before he answers.
He doesn’t even need to speak— Bakugou’s voice is already blaring through the speaker, barking orders. You can hear it loud and clear, his usual demanding tone carrying through the room. “Get your ass up, Eijiro!” 
Kirishima doesn’t argue, knowing full well Bakugou had already anticipated this. With a quick tap, he ends the call, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand with a sigh. He knew he brought this on himself, but it’s far too early for all that yelling.
“You heard that, right?” Kirishima asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. 
You nod with a soft chuckle, still amused. “Yeah, pretty much. You should clean up,” you hum, playfully nudging him.
He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna join me?” 
“Eijiro.”
“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, finally getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. His broad figure disappears behind the door, and you roll your eyes fondly, watching him go. As much as he’s procrastinating, you know he’ll eventually get it together—because, at the end of the day, he’s always reliable. Even if he’s late.
Before you know it, Kirishima is already by the door, fully dressed with his suitcase in hand. The image of him shirtless and relaxed on the bed feels like a distant memory as you stand in front of him, sharing one last deep kiss before he leaves. It’s slow and lingering, filled with the kind of warmth that you’ll hold onto while he’s gone. When you finally part, it’s with a soft peck on the lips, and a smile as you watch him step outside.
You wave as he loads his suitcase into the car, and he shoots you that familiar, reassuring grin before the door closes behind him. The car pulls away, and the house feels quieter already.
Two hours pass, and your phone buzzes with a new message. You open it to find an image of a rather grumpy-looking Dynamight, arms crossed and glaring from his seat on the plane. Next to him, Chargebolt is flashing a sheepish grin, holding up a peace sign. You can almost hear Bakugou grumbling under his breath about something ridiculous, probably annoyed with everything around him. 
Kirishima’s caption reads: “Already regretting this trip. Look at these idiots.” 
You laugh, texting him back quickly, already missing him but feeling a little lighter knowing he's surrounded by his friends and trusted co-workers. He’ll be in your arms again soon.
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“Five more minutes.” 
Denki mumbles, his voice muffled as he snuggles deeper into your embrace. He’s still in bed, arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging like he’s never going to let go. You let out a soft hum as your fingers comb through his messy blond hair, the strands wild from sleep and so uniquely him. His head rests against your chest, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you look down at him—the pro-hero you love so much, completely content in your arms.
But this is also the very late pro-hero.
“You’re going to be late, Denks,” you murmur, your voice gentle but with a hint of amusement.
He grunts in reply, barely acknowledging your words as he shrugs and buries his face even further into your chest, clearly not bothered by the reality of the situation. “Don’t care,” he mutters, his voice rumbling against your skin. He’s warm, cosy, and in no rush to leave. Being tangled up with you is the only thing that matters in the world right now.
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You say that now, but wait until Bakugou gets on your case for being late again.”
“I’m not scared of him,” Denki just huffs, his arms tightening around you as if to say let him try. You know he’s dreading the inevitable lecture, but right now, he’d rather enjoy every last second with you. And honestly, you’re not complaining.
The two of you lay there peacefully, soaking in the morning light peeking through the windows. You’re already thinking about how much you’ll miss him during his two-week mission. It’s not often he’s called away for that long, but when he is, you understand. That’s the life of a pro-hero. And while the thought of being apart tugs at your heart, you couldn’t be more proud of him for what he does.
“I’ll miss you,” Denki murmurs into your skin, his breath warm against your chest as he looks up at you. His toned arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His electrifying touch trails in soothing circles across your skin, making you feel that familiar buzz only he can give. He sighs softly, like he’s already dreading the distance. At that moment, you realise just how much you’re going to miss the way he holds you. The warmth of his affection that never fails to make you feel safe.
You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his messy blond hair. “What are you going to miss the most about me?” you ask playfully, your tone light, though a part of you genuinely wonders what his answer will be.
He pauses, his gaze drifting downward to your chest, a playful grin spreading across his face. You immediately catch on, rolling your eyes and swatting him lightly on the head. “Denki!” you scold, but you can’t help laughing as the both of you break into soft chuckles.
He rubs the back of his head, still grinning like a mischievous kid caught in the act. “What? Can you blame me?” he teases, but when he sees the look on your face, he lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as if to reset himself.
“Okay, okay,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Real answer now.”
Denki’s lips curl into a smile, but his eyes stay soft, thoughtful. “Everything,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “The way you smile at me when I walk through the door, the way you run your fingers through my hair like this…” He trails off, propping himself up on one elbow.
Looking deep into your eyes, his usual playful energy is tempered by the sincerity that only comes out in moments like these. “I’m gonna miss the way you make everything feel... normal. Like, when I’m out there, saving the day and dealing with all the hero stuff, it’s easy to forget who I really am sometimes. But with you,” he pauses, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin, “you remind me that I’m more than just a pro-hero. You remind me that I’m enough, just as I am. That I’m just Denki Kaminari.”
His words make your heart swell, and for a moment, you forget about the two weeks ahead. All that matters is here and now, with him in your arms, holding onto you like you’re the most important thing in his world.
Just then, his phone rings, interrupting the peaceful moment. As Denki picks it up, you glance at the screen and catch the time—half past six in the morning. Oh, he’s much later than you’d initially thought. It’s not Bakugou calling, but Kirishima instead. You can hear his deep, concerned voice on the other end, “Dude, get up. He’s already pissed.”
Before the words even fully register, Denki’s already scrambling, bolting upright and pulling on his boxers in a flurry of movement. The sudden shift from lazy cuddles to frantic dressing makes you burst out laughing. He’s rushing so fast that he practically trips over his own feet as he throws open the closet doors, rifling through his clothes in search of something to wear.
“How did you know I wasn’t already out the door?” Denki fires back at Kirishima, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder while simultaneously struggling to put his clothes on. His words are defensive, but the slight panic in his voice gives him away. He’s juggling a pair of pants in one hand, sliding them on while trying to pull a shirt over his head with the other, looking every bit the chaotic mess you love.
You can’t help but chuckle at the scene— Denki hopping around, trying to get his pants on without losing grip on the phone or his dignity. "Because if you were, you wouldn’t be half-dressed and panicking right now," you tease, watching as he stumbles into his shoes, still fumbling with his shirt.
Denki flashes you a sheepish grin, clearly caught, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he finally manages to get his pants on properly. “I was about to be out the door,” he mutters into the phone, knowing full well that no one’s buying it.
“Tell him I’m—” Denki starts as he finds his packed luggage. Thank god he packed the night before. 
“Already on your way?” Kirishima cuts in with a laugh. “Yeah, you can tell him that yourself. You know how he gets when we’re late. He’s already chewed me out. Hurry up man or you’re next.”
It’s hard to hold in your laughter at the situation. Denki shoots you a panicked glare as he starts moving out of the bedroom. “I’ll be out in two seconds!” he says into the phone, though both you and Kirishima know that’s a lie. 
You shake your head, still laughing softly, as you follow him out of the bedroom. Amused by the whirlwind that is your husband in a rush. He’s darting around the living room, frantically patting down his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. The sight is pure Denki— chaotic, yet somehow endearing.
As he’s about to bolt out the door, you catch sight of his passport sitting on the kitchen counter. With a smile, you grab it and walk over, holding it out to him just as he turns in circles, looking confused. “Looking for this?” you tease, waving the passport in front of his face.
His eyes light up with relief. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, leaning in for a quick kiss.
Before he can rush off again, you grab his arm and pull him in for one last peck on the cheek. “Be safe, okay? And text me when you land.”
He flashes you that playful, electric grin, eyes twinkling. “Promise. Love you.” Then, with a wink, he’s out the door, shoes half-tied, practically running to avoid Bakugou’s wrath.
You lean against the doorframe, still smiling as you watch him disappear down the street. Even in his frantic state, there’s something about him that makes you fall in love with him all over again, every time.
Two hours later, your phone buzzes with a message from your husband. You unlock it to find several crying emojis, and you can already feel the laughter bubbling up before you even open the image. When you do, you’re greeted with a snapshot of chaos: a very pissed off Dynamight, glaring daggers at Denki, looking ready to lunge at him. Red Riot is in the background, struggling to hold Bakugou back, his arms wrapped around Dynamight in a full bear hug, clearly doing his best to keep things under control.
Denki’s sheepish grin isn’t doing him any favours either. His expression is simply the statement of "I'm in trouble". You stifle a laugh as you text him back. 
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a/n: there will be a part two of this with deku, shoto and sero! I only had energy to write these three idiots xP
border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight
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The ABCs of Alastor - Dirty Secret
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
MATURE CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI!
Words: ~1600 TW: oral (female receiving) while on period
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"Why are you avoiding me?"
It was a simple question. One simple question, yet the way he looked at you gave away the fact that this was far from the truth.
Alastor never seemed to be so good at comforting people, but with you at least he tried. He'd spend hours with you whenever you were sad, giving you his wise advice that most of the time implied killing someone. He'd bring you different gifts whenever you said you were interested in something. And you damn well knew he would murder someone who dared to do you wrong.
So it was kind of hard to understand why he avoided you so much every time you were on your period. Every time you needed him by your side, he'd disappear without a trace. You'd cry for days from how crazy your hormones were acting and how bad your cramps were and he would be nowhere to be seen. Why?
You thought that maybe it had something to do with his human life. Perhaps he was repulsed by the whole idea, but it was kind of hard to believe that someone like him would get so easily scared by something so simple.
Alastor avoided your gaze and looked elsewhere, he shifted from standing still to leaning against the wall with one hand still placed behind his back. You could tell something clearly bothered him, but it was hard to understand what. "I'm not avoiding you, my dear."
"Then why do you always disappear when I'm on my period?" You saw his smile faintly twitching, his ears pressed back on his head. "Are... Are you disgusted by me?" you asked, suddenly feeling a bit emotional at the thought that it would affect him this much.
"No! Of course not!" He said in a somewhat surprised tone, clearly shocked by the question and immediately approaching you. He stands in front of you, towering over you in height. He was still unable to look into your eyes directly as if there was something else bothering him. "It's just..."
"What?"
"Blood," he said bluntly, his tone so low that you could only guess that's what he said.
"It's... what?"
Alastor sighed, looking down at the floor as he did so. He was struggling to explain himself and his facial expression gave it away. He was ashamed, and his pride was slowly shattering at how weak he felt. "It's your blood, my dear... It makes me feel..." he was tapping on his cane, a dark blush spreading on his face. The sight of him all flustered made your heart tingle, but you kept it to yourself, knowing he wouldn't talk to you for days if you said something that you shouldn't.
"... horny?" you asked, not really finding a better explanation for his embarrassment.
Alastor's face went beet red at your question, as he slowly raised his head to look at you, a bit taken aback by your bluntness "I- What- ...That is-" He stuttered, speechless for a few seconds until he finally mumbled out something. "That's one way to put it I suppose, my dear."
You let out an audible 'Oh.' as you made the connections in your head. It made sense considering his preferences, but you never imagined it could have such an impact on him.
"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked.
Alastor still tried his best to avoid your gaze, now placing a hand over at least half his face to try and hide his expression. He was too embarrassed to speak, and he was silently scolding himself for acting like a fool who didn't know how to talk to a woman properly. "I..." he began but then gave up trying to explain himself. How was he supposed to tell you that he'd eat you up like a starved man whenever you got your period? How was he supposed to say to you he's so weak he can't even control his urges over a normal, biological process?
"You know..." you started, making him look at you, your face blushing softly as this new idea popped into your head. "I think we can... solve this... somehow..."
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"Fuck! Fuck, Alastor - Ahh~"
His tongue was driving you crazy, as his claws dug into your things, making sure you keep your legs open for him. Alastor was completely lost in the moment, his mind consumed by the intoxicating taste of you and the animalistic urge to lick every drop of blood, his senses heightened and all control slipping away. He can't think straight, can't even form a coherent thought, overwhelmed by the need to have you completely.
The sloppy sounds of him eating you up so eagerly echoed in the room, as your grip on his antlers tightened, a low growl vibrating through your body. His usual collected demeanour was long gone as his tongue pumped in and out of you, sucking and kissing your clit, desperate to consume you entirely.
His mind was a chaotic, primal whirlwind of raw need, every sense and thought completely consumed by the overwhelming hunger for you. He couldn't hold back even if he tried; every movement, every sound he made was fueled by an uncontrollable animalistic desire. He was practically snarling against you, his growls a stark contrast to the usual suave tone of his voice.
Your heart skipped a bit as his form grew in size, his radio-dial eyes looking at you, a hint of madness in them. His long tongue delved deeper and deeper, exploring every part of you. The suction and rhythmic movement made your head spin, and the sight of his now monstrous form between your legs was almost too much to handle.
"You have no idea how torturous it was for me, my dear..." you heard him say, the static in his voice almost deafening. "Smelling all this blood without being able to taste..." Long fingers entered you roughly, moving at a fast pace as a thin coat of red liquid covered them.
"Ahh~ Shit, Alastor! I'm gonna... Ahhh~"
His pace quickened as he sucked on your clit, the room spinning as your body aggressively trembled against his mouth. The sudden burst of pleasure almost made you cry, as your walls clenched tightly around his fingers.
The thin line between pain and pleasure threatened to be crossed as he fingerfucked you through your orgasm. The lights in the room flickered as his gaze never left yours for a moment. You shivered slightly, feeling as if you were about to be literally eaten alive by him.
His sharp teeth were full of blood, but you knew he craved more. He always told you how addicted he was to you, how much he needed to just have you completely. And he was going to.
His fingers were quickly replaced again by his tongue, the familiar feeling inside of you rapidly building up again.
"Alastor! Ah~ I can't!" you begged, feeling as if you were about to pass out any moment now, a low growl vibrating against your aching core. If you were being completely honest, you weren't even sure if he heard you. You squirmed against his grasp, only for his claws to dig deeper into the soft skin of your things, making sure you were not moving until he was satisfied.
Your knuckles were white because of how hard you were gripping the bedsheet that was now probably drenched in your blood. Alastor is in the thralls of primal ecstasy, his whole being hyper-focused on consuming you, giving into the animalistic needs that have taken over his mind entirely. The taste of you on his tongue, the sight of you writhing desperately beneath him, are driving him wilder and wilder, his self-control completely shattered.
You scream his name as you orgasm once again and you could swear you almost fainted when you reached the peak, even the feeling of his tongue sliding out of you becoming a torture.
Your vision was blurry as your body relaxed, the sudden feeling of his hand on your stomach, slowly caressing it, making you shiver. You turned to face him, and his appearance returned back to normal as blood was scattered all over his face.
He is panting heavily, the intense primal need somewhat sated for now, replaced by the more familiar persona of the charming radio demon. His touch on your aching skin was a stark contrast to the wildness he'd just displayed. His gaze, although calmer than before, still held a hint of raw hunger. He looked down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion.
"Are you alright, love?"
The way he used that word always made your heart skip a beat, especially now when you saw him so hungry... only for you. You just nodded, not a single word being able to make it out of you. He let go of a deep chuckle, the sound reverberating through you, as he enjoyed the effect he had on you.
Alastor moved closer to you, his frame enveloping your smaller figure protectively. He gently wiped some sweat from your forehead, brushing away a few strands of hair too. He was being affectionate and caring, his usual composed demeanour returning, though you were sure it was not gonna last long.
"You're quite a mess, aren't you, darling?" he teased with a smirk, his voice low and sultry. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before he got up, making his way to the bathroom to prepare you a warm bath.
So, no, Alastor may never have been good at comforting people the way others were, but with you, he always found a way. Even if his methods were… unconventional, they were his way of showing you just how deeply he cared.
And in the end, you were left to wonder—how many other secrets did he keep even from you? Secret passions, secret dreams... maybe even secrets dirtier than this one. You lay there, smiling to yourself, eager to uncover the rest of his secrets—one by one.
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creampie-capital · 3 days
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║My Ex, The Oni║║━ Pt. 1 ━║
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ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ║21,113
The Devil May Lick Me Masterlist ━━━➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞
↳.·:*¨༺𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧༻¨*:·.
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Photo Reference Cred ━━━➤ 82PIGEON on X (Twitter) Do not steal, copy, or repost anywhere. My work is currently on both CREAMPIE_CAPITAL on wattpad and Imtropicalbaby on Quotev. If posted on another account or website, please report and notify me immediately. Now onto the story :)
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Steam wafts off your skin, a transparent whisp that floats from the intense heat emanating from your body. Soaked hair sticks to your limbs before you lean forward and wrap a towel around them to flip over. 
The ringing continues from your bedroom, blaring like scratches on the walls that spur you quickly exit from the bathroom. 'Don Juan,' his nickname since forever, flickers on the screen with the image of his stupid face. 
Fixing your robe, you answer and place it on the speaker. "Hello!!! I've been callin' for the past ten minutes." Rafe drags his voice out, stretching his vowels in the way he loves to when he's irritated. 
"I was in the shower, babe. You already know eight o'clock is shower time." You jeer and respond in the same manner. 
"Right, right." His response is calmer now as he releases a deep sigh. "Sorry, It's just busy at work, but I needed to know if you were busy tomorrow. My parents are visiting, and they want to see you. I know last time they were kind of rude, but that is just how they play around. My entire family is blunt like that, so I guess it's just in blood, haha." 
In an instant, you're biting your lip while your dominant hand curls into a fist. That a**hole, how many times do you have to tell him that you're not going to meet them again after last time? They blatantly insulted you and passed it off as jokes and gags in front of your face and his presence. 
You were surprised you were able to grin and bear it, taking their backhanded compliments and disrespect with awkward laughs and bows of your head. Not again; you're not going to take it again with Rafe sitting right by your side with silence on his tongue. 
"Rafe, come on. I've already told you I'm not going to see them again unless I get a genuine apology." 
"How can they give you a genuine apology if you won't see them again." 
He silences you in that moment as you stop mid-movement from grabbing your panties. "Touché, Don Juan." Rafe had a point. However, your body is engraved with pettiness. The hurt and humiliation they gave you had riddled your very bones with hatred. 
Forgiving them feels like losing the battle and accepting their disrespect. It's been one of your negatives since a young age, bearing rage and grudges even if they affected your closest relationships. Even your therapist struggles to help you settle those internal grievances. 
"I've talked with them, you know. It's hard for them to understand that their bluntness is not something everyone appreciates." You're both silent after his words; the only noise coming from the club is the muted music from the club he bartends at. 
Standing in the middle of your room, with only your panties and damp robe on, you find yourself fighting your resolve as water dries off your skin from the a/c. Now that the heat cools into a mellowness, even your anger somewhat subsides. 
Rafe then cuts the silence as he speaks. "It's only for coffee at Selena's. With the holiday coming up, they wanted to see you and me before they leave. And that means a lot, you know, the fact that they want to see you again." 
Ugh, you're starting to feel bad for constantly rejecting their invites. Only slightly bad, however, because you cannot forget those snide remarks that yeiled your blood to boil. Though...maybe they weren't that bad, but you took them the wrong way because as soon as someone offends you, you close off and refuse to listen anymore. 
However, that doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid. 
"Fine. I'll come but only for an hour. But if they act the same way they did last time, then I'm out. I'm not just going to sit there and take everything while you act like a coward. Got it?" 
"Got it." He murmurs while you hear the sound of his clothes shifting. "And again, I'm sorry about how I acted last time. It was cowardly, and I didn't consider your feelings." 
With a nod of your head, you part your lips to respond; however, a ring from the foyer of your apartment solidifies you in your spot. Immediately, you're on the defense, body tense and eyes narrowed. 
"Hold up, someone's at my door." You whisper before grabbing your phone, muting it, and stalking close to your door. The emergency services are already dialed, only awaiting the call button in case something goes wrong. 
Pressing a button on your apartment intercom, the blank screen flashes to show the video imaging outside your door, and you cannot believe who stands in front of your entrance with a smug a** grin. 
"Oh, my f*cking god." You seethe with the blood inside of your heating up before unmuting your call. "It's nobody important. I call you back; love you, babe." 
"'kay. Be safe, and I love you too. I finish at two, so if you're still up, I call you later." 
Ending the call, you undo the towel in your hair to throw it aside and unlock your door. With a harsh tug, you open it with a deep glare. "What the hell are you doing here, and how the hell do you know where I live?"
Kohaku stands there with that stupid a** grin and glint in his heterochromia eyes. "Come on, can't a guy just say hi?" 
He looks the same as he did in high school, only more muscular as his clothes stretched across his limbs. His hair is still that ink-black slop with the strip of white strands, only longer and slightly styled. 
The little horns on his forehead remain as cute as ever, as much as you hate to admit it. Piercings riddle his pointed ears, and you wonder how he got them done when he's always been a little b*tch about the sensitivity of his earlobe. 
"Not even on my grave would I let you even say hi. What the f*ck do want?" You sneer, though it does nothing to wipe off his grin. 
With a snap of his fingers, he points them at you like finger guns. "First off, you look cute in that robe, but it's a little too short. Not that I mind~." Your face heats up with the boiling of your blood. "Second of all," He suddenly twists around and picks up a...a little girl!? "-I need you to watch this sprat for a couple of months."
He hands her to you, holding her up from under her armpits like he's attempting to hand over a stray pet. The kid doesn't even seem phased, staring with a bored(?) expression as though nothing is going on in her head. 
She's small, maybe five or six, wearing an oversized pink sweater and knee-high black socks with beat-up sneakers. Her eyes, her eyes hold two different colors, one icy blue and the other lime green. She had her own pair of horns that matched her tan skin with the tips slightly peachy red. Even her hair was the same ink black with the one area in the front white from his genetic disorder. It was long, down to her ankles, and unruly. Tangles are everywhere, and the frizz overtakes her head like lions made. 
"Excuse me...? Ex-f*cking-scuse me!?" The roar of your voice was louder than you meant, and you knew in an instant that your neighbors were going to complain. "F*ck, f*ck." You whisper to yourself while opening the door wider and pointing inside. "Get in, quick." 
That grin grew as he waltzed in and immediately began inspecting your place. 
Shutting the door and locking it, you turn back with your arms crossed and a wicked glare. "You got some explaining to do because what in your right mind thinks you can just waltz up in here after everything you did and think I would do you favor? Much less-" You point to the kid he's still carrying. "The favor being taking care of a brat from when you cheated on me?" 
Finally, Kohaku's smile drops as he frowns awkwardly. "Well...when you put it like that, it makes me look like a really bad guy." 
"You are the bad guy." It seems your words nicked a nerve as his blue and green eyes flickered to your face, and his frown withered. 
The Oni set the girl down on your laminated wooden floors before swiping a hand across his mouth and looking away. "It wasn't like that. You know I would never cheat on you. I just-" 
You cannot even handle hearing anymore. The sound of his voice that you used to love trying to justify the way he broke your heart is something you can't bear. "You just what? You got some f*cken freedom in college and went off to do your own thing? Got to finally get away from my 'overbearingness' and 'clinginess' so you could f*ck around with, how did you put it, 'woman that wasn't like me'?" 
Kohaku inhaled a deep breath and finally met your gaze as he placed an open hand on his broad chest. "I was childish and selfish. People were treating me like someone important, and I let it go to my head. I said things I didn't mean-" 
Tears are burning in your eyes, burning like poison, as you step forward to grab the front of his shirt and tug. "You called me in the middle of the night while you were at a party just to tell me things were over! You had been neglecting me for weeks, and when you finally called, when I could finally hear your voice again, it was just to break up so you could f*ck some skank without a guilty conscious!"
He suddenly grips your wrist, the heat of his touch almost shocking you like electricity as he tears off your hold. "The way I broke up with you was f*cked up, I admit it. I apologize for that. But at least I had the f*cken decently to break up instead of cheating on you, instead of hiding it behind your back. I loved you enough to not do that sh*t to you." 
"...What!?" You laugh in disbelief while yanking your arm out of his grasp. "Loved me enough!? If you had even loved me, you wouldn't have been ignoring me when you entered college! You wouldn't have stopped answering my calls! For f*cks sake, if you had really loved me, you wouldn't have broken up with me for some one-night stand when I was your girlfriend you promised to marry!" 
Banging erupts from your living room wall, most likely from your neighbor to tell you to shut the f*ck up. It was already late, people were trying to sleep, and you were having a breakdown. Now that you could hear the silence of the apartment and feel the blood pumping in your veins, you then also realized tears were snaking down your cheeks. 
"Damn." You whisper and turn your head away to march towards the kitchen. "I can't deal with you sober." It didn't take long for you to pour yourself a shot and downing it before grabbing a beer can and gulping half so the effects could hit you sooner. 
From the entranceway, Kohaku says something to the girl before making his way over. You don't even look at him, leaning against the counter as the can hangs loosely between your fingers. So many years have passed since then, yet the wound of it all remains unhealed. He was your first love, someone you gave yourself to wholeheartedly. 
You loved him with everything you had and believed that you both would go to the same college together, then marry later on, have a family, and grow old together. Truthfully, you should have known better; you romanticized that relationship. You both were just kids from a small town, not realizing how big the world was. 
Well, you didn't. Because he was a grade above you, he went off to university first, and that's when he got a taste of what the real world was like. That's when he experienced so many things that a small town just can't provide. 
He had his eyes opened while you remained blissfully ignorant. 
Now that time has passed, you have experienced those feelings firsthand. The world was so different; there was so much going on that you would have never encountered if you stayed in that town. You get it; you get that you were just holding him back. 
But that doesn't stop the hurt from becoming any less painful. It's been how many years, yet the feeling of betrayal still feels so fresh it's almost pathetic.
Were you the one who was more in love than he was? Is that why you're still hurt after all these years, even though you've already moved on? 
"I'm sorry."
His voice right now is no longer pissing you off; it's just making you feel even more pathetic. You don't know if you ever quell the hatred from how he broke up with you, and that's sad. He did the adult thing and ended it instead of just lying behind your back. 
How he went about it was wrong, but he did the right thing and left the relationship. You should be over it by now, but with his reappearance, those feelings have returned.
"...Don't... You're not sorry. You're just tryna make me feel better, and it's only make me feel worse." You murmur while covering your mouth and burping slightly from the carbonation. "So... who is the kid? Gotta be your daughter 'cause she's got that same stupid a** white streak." 
Kohaku laughs in his throat before leaning against the wall on his side and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You used to love it." He teases, and you can tell he really is trying to lighten the mood, but you don't want any of that. "Well, today is actually the first time I've met her." 
"Oh." You release like a breath of air before turning your head to face him. "Do tell." 
He rubs the back of his neck with the leather of his jacket, squeaking from his movements. "That girl from college, we actually started dating after we...you know." 
Something stings in your heart, but it drifts away in slow rolls as you breathe it out. "Wow. I guess it wasn't just some one-night stand, then. Don't know if it makes me feel better or worse, though."  
He clicks his tongue while shaking his head. "Well, a couple of years later, she cheated on me, so we broke up. After that, I transferred to a different university and never saw her again or remained in contact with her. That was until this morning, she just showed up with the girl and some papers and declared I had full custody. She told me that the girl would be my full responsibility and I could do whatever I wanted without getting my ex involved. Then she just left." 
You laugh under your breath. "Drops the responsibility on to you, huh, and now you're doing the same to me. And that girl isn't even mine." Whether you meant to or not, the last part poured from your lips with petty abhorrence. 
It was your dream to have a child, to share a child with him that was from the both of you. Someone else got to have that dream, yet they threw it away so carelessly. 
Kohaku stands to his full stature and steps forward. His height grows, and you remember the enormous height difference that you used to love. Somehow, he feels even taller than you remember. 
"I'm sorry." He exclaims and places an open hand on your back. Was his hands always this big? It feels like he could cover so much space. "I'm really sorry for doing that. I'm not in the position to take care of her, nor is it safe for a kid to be around me. There's no one else I could think of but you to ask for this favor." 
You lick your lips and stare into those multi-colored eyes. "Safe? And you couldn't ask anyone else's in your life? No other friends or girlfriends? Not even your dad?"
He removes his hand to place it against his chest as though he were wounded. "First of all, aren't you honored that you're the only one I can think of after all these years?" 
You give him a deadpan expression while pointing a finger at him. "No." 
"You're literally no fun." He whines. "And for your information, Dad would make things more complicated than they would need to be. I don't need that right now when I've got to figure things out." 
A laugh ripples from your mouth and echoes out. "Ahh, your dad would grab you by the horn and go and on about family values 'till your ear would fall off. Then he'd put that girl to work on the farms. That old fart wouldn't miss any opportunity for free labor." 
Even speaking of it brings forth memories of helping around the farm because you were too nice to say no. He always managed to keep you around for hours until your mother would come to get you. You'd be all dirty, sweaty, and (tanned/burned) from being under the sun for so long. 
You hated those times, but they are memories you will never forget. They were part of your childhood and adolescence, and they did give you some muscle that helped you do well in sports.
Sighing, you lean forward to rest your arms on the counter and your cheek on your wrist as the dizziness comes forth. "How is your old man?" 
"Same old, same old." He responds and maneuvers so he's resting his behind against the counter and elbows on it to hold up his weight. "He'll honestly outlive us from his sheer stubbornness." 
That statement couldn't be any more true. If you were the queen of pettiness, then his father was the king of stubbornness. Whatever his dad decided on, he would stick with it to the end, even if he were in the complete wrong. 
As much as you love the big world and the big city, there is that nostalgic feeling of sitting on his father's porch in that big squeaky rocking chair and drinking a fresh glass of lemonade. It would be nice to do that again and stare out onto the massive field of his farmland, feeling the cool breeze on your skin. 
The same four country songs always seemed to play from his beat-up radio, yet he refused to let anyone change the station. You used to hate that and dread even the sound of a guitar. Now, you find yourself missing it. 
"I miss your batty old dad." You state, mumbling under your breath and blinking heavily. 
Kohaku laughs and nods his head with a slight grin. "As much as that old man gets on my nerves, I miss him too." 
Nothing more is stated; instead, sharing a deep silence that would have been awkward to others but was comforting to both of you. 
Surprisingly, you were looking at the past and yearning for the simpler times. Doing so usually would just leave you aggravated, but tonight, it was pacifying. Life is always so busy, and you like that it never leaves you a moment to dwell on the past and what could have been. 
Maybe you just needed to get those feelings off your chest. After the breakup, you were never in contact with him again. The anger from the heartbreak had you crumble up all those feelings and throw them down in a void. 
They were a weakness, something you refused to give in to. But the anger remained, and questions you always wanted to ask were stuck in the back of your head. They didn't push forward, they didn't take precedent, they were just there, waiting. 
Sniffling, you stand up and step over to the sink to dump the rest of your beer. "What is her name?" 
"Simat? If I could name her, it would have been something cooler." 
You angle your head back to sneer at him. "Don't kid yourself. You would have named her something ridiculous like your Gamertag. I don't even want to hear it." If there is one thing he should never get his hands on, it's naming. 
Abpruplty, your phone rings, and you see Rafe on the screen. You didn't realize how close it was to one o'clock. 
"Ouu, your boyfriend." Kohaku teases as he snatches your phone to look at the picture. "Hmm, he's decent looking and has good nose genetics. However, you could do better. And what's with that name? Don Juan is so ridiculous. And you're the one saying I suck at coming up with names." He utters with a finger on his chin as though he were profoundly contemplating. 
"A**hole." You exclaim and snatch back your cellular device, only for the call to end. "It's a joke nickname from our friend group. And as an ex-boyfriend, you have no right to judge my boyfriend."
The Oni falls back comically while holding a hand against his chest, tugging at it as though he were having a heart attack. "You wound me, (Y/n). As an ex-boyfriend, I have every right. I have to make sure the men you get with aren't better looking than me!" 
His response yields another deep sigh, and you shift your weight onto one leg and cross your arms beneath your bust. "Get the f*ck out of my apartment." 
"What about-" 
"I will do you this favor one time, but after, don't ever come back asking for anything. Don't ever come back, period. You're from my past; you don't belong in my future." With that said, you stride past the muscular man and back to the living room, where the little girl sits playing with a big Orc doll. 
Kohaku follows you around your couch and kneels in front of the girl. He places his big hands on her knees and gains her attention. "I have to go now. I'm sorry for leaving your side, but it's not safe at my place. I'll be coming around every few days to see you, okay?"
Simat doesn't speak, but she nods her head before resuming her attention on her big green doll. The older Oni appears to be observing her appearance for a few seconds before standing up and placing a hand on her head to ruffle her already disorderly hair. 
With one last look, he begins making his way to your front door, with you following behind. "Should I give you my email so you can notify me when you're coming to see her or-" 
"No, I've already got your number," Kohaku states before winking and exiting the front door. "By the way, you need a new robe. I can see your a**cheeks, not that I mind~!"
"Kohaku, you pervert! Wait, how!? I changed my number after high school!" You question in the hallway, but he refrains from responding, only waving his hand until he disappears around the corner. 
With a defeated sigh, you close the door and lock it. Now, it's just the two of you alone in your apartment. It's awkward, and you cannot help the painful feelings. Resentment fills your veins, a nasty bitterness that corrodes your insides. 
You have to remind yourself that this child is an innocent bystander, someone who had no say in what had transpired. It was not her fault she was born, much less from your ex-boyfriend. It's just the way things were. 
Finally, you were able to shake yourself up enough to go to your room, grab some undersized clothes that she could fit into, and return. 
"Simat?" She slowly looks up from her doll and stares with her heterochromia eyes. From the moment you met her, that dead expression has remained, not once going away. She's not crying for Mommy or Daddy; she's not afraid of some stranger standing in front of her. 
It's eerie, almost scary, and it slowly eats away the corroding of resentment. "Do you want to shower or sleep?" You ask her softly, yet she only stares at you with those lifeless eyes. If it were not for the slight movement of her chest from breathing, you would have thought she was some broken, dirty doll thrown out. 
"Okay, umm. Take these clothes and change in the bathroom. I'll make the bed for you." Without wasting time, she stands up to take the clothes and make her way down the hall to the bathroom. You didn't tell her where it was, but she must have been looking around while you and Kohaku were talking. 
She looks pitiful; you cannot help but feel bad for her. 
With her changing, you push forward the coffee table to pull out the bed. It was an expensive couch you bought a while ago for when your girlfriends were too drunk to go home. With their picky choices, you were able to find this one that they actually liked, so it should be good enough for the girl. 
It already has clean sheets, so you go to the closet to grab the piles of pillows and blankets you have before making the bed. Simat returns soon after in your PJs before placing her sweater, socks, and shoes in her little pink bag. 
"Do you want to watch something or..." Simat only stares at you as she stands in her spot. With a slight narrowing of your eyes, you point your hand that had the remote at the bed. "Go lay down." Instantly, the girl listens, grasping the blanket to help haul herself on top. "Simat, get off for a second." Without a complaint, she does so, sliding off and standing right next to it with no change in her expression. 
The pity you felt had intensified, and you suddenly regretted the way you had spoken to her earlier. She seems very closed off for a young girl when she should be expressing herself at this age. Even more, she's incredibly obedient, following orders without a word or complaint. 
"Come sit here for a second. I want to talk to you." The girl listens, climbing back up before crossing her legs and holding the doll against her chest. 
Slowly, you sit on the edge and lick your lips while trying to figure out the right words to say. "I'm sorry for all the yelling you heard earlier. I was just really upset, but that is no excuse. My name is (Y/n). I was your daddy's friend from a long time ago." No words, just a blank stare. "Uh, you'll be staying with me for a while, but your father will be here every few days. I don't have a daughter, so I'm not sure how to take care of you, but if there are things that you don't like, then don't be afraid to tell me. I don't know how things were at your mom's, but here you have every option you want, whether it's if you want to watch TV or not. Okay?" 
No response; her nose barely even flares as she breathes. "To make things easier, nod your head for okay or yes. Shake for no. Okay?" For a second, she seems to hesitate before finally she moves her head up and down a little. 
It feels like a small victory, and you cannot help but smile. "I'm not good at this stuff, but let's learn together, okay?" Again, it takes her a few seconds as though she is thinking about it, but she nods. "Alright. I'm going to put a kid's movie on, but if you don't like it, then here is the remote. You can stay up however long you want for now. In the morning, we'll have breakfast, and then we'll go from there."
Slowly, she nods her head, which spurs you to softly pat her head before standing up and pulling the covers over her lap. "Goodnight, Simat. I'll see you in the morning." The girl doesn't say anything, only sinking into the pillows and staring at the large TV screen.  
Without making much noise, you go to your own bed only to pass out once your head hits the pillow. You hadn't even changed out of your robe, and you're too tired from the emotional rollercoaster no one but your ex can make you ride. 
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
In the morning, you are woken up by the ringing of your phone. Your eyes are still closed, and your mind is half awake as you answer. "Hmm." 
"'Morning, babe. I'm almost done getting ready. Then I'm going to come get you to go to Selena's." Rafe's voice comes out from the device, and you hum in response. 
However, after a few seconds, your head shoots up as your eyes widen. Sh*t, how are you going to explain to him that you're babysitting your ex-boyfriend's kid after no contact for like six years? Rafe is already super jealous and not trusting of any males in your life. His parents would be even worse if you showed up out of the blue with some kid who wasn't their son's offspring. 
Dammit 
"Sh*t babe, I forgot I've already made plans with my sister." You lie straight through your teeth as you sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Your sister isn't even in the same country, busy on her own holiday voyage that he hopefully doesn't know about.
"What?" Rafe questions and scoffs. "Come on, can't you just take a raincheck? You keep skipping out every time they want to see you, and I already told them you were coming last night. You know how it's going to look when you cancel again." 
It does look bad that you are ignoring them, but so what? They were so incredibly rude last time, and seeing them would ruin your day, even if they want to apologize. "It's not my fault they found it so funny to call me slurs and laugh about it in front of my face. I can take a slur as a joke, but they weren't joking. I'll see them when I want to see them. I'm getting ready; I'll call you later." Rafe begins saying something, but you do not even let him get his words out, quickly hanging up and collapsing onto your back. 
Staring up at your ceiling, you take deep breaths to calm your vexation before slowly sitting up. Your back and neck hurt from falling asleep in that awkward position without moving. You must have been exhausted to sleep like the dead.
After taking a moment to center yourself entirely, you get up and open the door to step down the hallway and into the living room quietly. The TV is still on, playing the Lorax halfway through as you peek over the couch. 
Simat was awake, hugging her Orc doll while watching the movie. "Good morning, Simat. Did you sleep?" She looks over before slowly nodding her head. "Are you hungry?" Another nod. "Okay, come. Go sit at the counter over there and wait while I make something." 
She does need to be told twice, obediently following orders as she crawls out of bed and shuffles to the bar stools. You had to hold back your laughter as you watched her struggle to get up, climbing like a little monkey. 
"Alright, let's see..." you murmur while opening the fridge. You look through its contents before removing some strawberries, butter, and milk and setting them on the counter. "I'm going to make pancakes. Are you okay with that?" Another nod. 
Silently, you begin pulling out all the other ingredients you need before setting up the skillet. Simats eyes are watching you the whole time, and you wonder if she's just curious or if she watches your every move out of fear to watch for danger. 
Her silence and obedience already strike you as odd, but it might not be far from a stretch to assume she was abused or, more so, neglected. There is not much you can do as an outsider; she's not even your daughter. But for now, you can just try to give her options and help her understand that it's safe in this place even though you are a stranger. 
"When I was a kid, my mom used to make pancakes that looked just like characters from my favorite anime. Have you heard of Sailor Moon?" When you turn, you see that she shakes her head no. "Really? We should watch it some time then. It's an older series, so the graphics are not that great, but I prefer it still over the remake. Just something about the new one; I just don't like it." 
With the batter mixed, you begin pouring small pools onto a hot skillet. "You know, when I don't like things, I won't do them. If I don't like it, if it hurts me or would make me unhappy, I don't do it." Flipping a pancake, you reach up in the cupboard to grab a plate. "I want you to understand that you are safe here to express yourself. You won't get hurt or yelled at if you say no. I will respect you enough to listen to your feelings, but I need you to respect me enough to listen too, okay?" 
You don't turn your head to look at her, but you can feel her nod. You're unsure if she is truly listening to you or taking your words seriously. Hopefully, she'll keep your words in mind while she stays here. 
After the food was done, you cut up some strawberries and lathered the pancakes in butter before presenting them to the girl and giving her two different bottles of syrup, one with a rich taste and another with a more robust flavor. 
She didn't eat or even lift her fork, only continuing to watch you as you made your way around the bar and took a seat next to her. Her eyes observed as you grabbed the first bottle, poured it over your food, and began cutting it up. Once you had put the bottle down, she grabbed the one you had and poured it over her plate almost the same way you did (dousing it/light covering it). 
Only when you started eating did she tear off a small piece and eat. It was both cute, as though she were mimicking you, but sad as you wondered if she wanted to make sure it was safe to eat or if she even had the right to eat. 
Silently, you both ate together until you finished and stood up to begin washing the dishes. Simat was still eating, but when you turned to check up on her, you noticed she was eating slowly and took smaller bites than before. 
"If you're full, do not force yourself to eat more than what you can handle. I won't yell or hurt you if you are done. And you're not wasting food; you just can't eat anymore." It seemed your words were exactly what she needed to hear as she dropped her fork and leaned back, seeming to pat her belly softly. 
It was too cute, like an arrow to the heart. "Good girl," you told her, then took her plate, emptied the rest away, and finished the clean-up. 
After a few minutes of cleaning, you heard the chair scrape, and Simat came over to the kitchen. She stood right by your side, with her eyes never straying from your figure. Is food the way into this little girl's heart? 
"Woo, I hate washing dishes." You joke with a little laugh before turning to the kid. That unruly hair needs to be taken care of, and she's even got some syrup on her chin that's shining in the light. "Alright, let's bathe you. Come follow me." 
Obediently, she follows you down the hall to the bathroom, where you turn the shower handle, and water bursts into the clean, porcelain basin. "Do you want hot water and bubbles?" she nods. "Good; I love bubbles, too." 
As the tub fills with an obscene amount of bubbles, you begin to help her undress. Other than her matching markings beneath the eyes she obtained from her father, there don't appear to be any scars or markings. 
It was a sigh of relief; you don't think you could hold in your anger if there were physical signs of abuse. She's not you're kid, she's not your daughter, but hurting any child in a manner was unacceptable. A slap here and there if a kid really needs discipline, but anything more would earn your fist in the parent's face. Every kid deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a kid. 
When Simat enters the tub, her attention is immediately stolen by the piles of bubbles, and she begins to play with them. She places them on her chin and cheeks, almost mimicking a beard that brings forth a laugh. 
For a second, she glances at you before returning it to the tub and adding more to her fake beard, the shape taking the form of a long wizard beard. "You make a good wizard. Should I buy you a cape and a wand?" Your joke, which you said more to yourself, had earned the child's gaze. Finally, those dead eyes hold a twinkle, a soft sparkle deep inside her colored irises. 
In an instant, you make a mental note to buy a wand and a cape immediately after this. 
While she continued to play, you washed her lengthy hair, which was way thicker than you expected. You thought you used a lot of conditioner, but this girl gave you a run for your money. You're going to have to buy more while she stays here, in fact, you need to buy lots of things. 
Not that you mind, shopping is fun, and even more fun when you have that Christmas bonus your boss gave everyone for the holidays. 
Once the water begins to turn lukewarm and the bubbles cease, you help her out and give her one of your robes. It was too oversized for her, but she looked cute in it. The two of you enter your bedroom, where you lift and sit her at the edge of your bed while you go scouring through your clothes for something around her size. 
There isn't any underwear that would fit, so you put down a pair of black biker shorts that shrunk in the wash. Even most of your shirts, other than your office clothes, are inappropriate for her age, so for now, you give her one of your crop top sweaters that is just long enough to reach her hips. 
"Alright, you can change into these and then meet me in the bathroom so we can take care of your hair." She nods and reaches for the clothes while you exit and shut the door for privacy. While she does that, you'll brush your teeth and do your own hair since it dried awkwardly last night. 
It's still unbelievable what is happening. After six years, your first love shows up on your doorstep to drop off a daughter he didn't even know he had; what a joke. It feels like a joke, a cruel joke being played. 
When you were just a teen, you used to dream about your future and imagine all these different scenarios of what your life would be like together. You'd probably have a couple of kids, all taking after their father, considering that Oni's blood was seriously dominant. 
Simat really does look like her father other than her tan skin, which made her eyes really pop. There's a knock at the door, and you tell her to come in just as you finish (throwing your hair up/pinning it back). 
She looks charming in your clothes, almost looking like you, frankly. Waving her over, she takes a step in front of you by the sink as you reach for a brush. "It doesn't seem like anyone took care of your beautiful hair, so I'm going to brush it and then cut a little. Is that okay?" Another nod so you diligently get to work. 
Her tangles had mostly calmed down after you soaked it in detangler, so you didn't have to struggle much. However, the ends were really poor, with a considerable amount of split ends, so you had to cut off quite a few inches. Those precious locks that reached her ankles were now just a little past her bum, but now that you see curls coming in, you realize she had curly hair. 
No one seemed to take care of it, so there's no way those curls would have flourished. Luckily, you had some curl cream that would do wonders for the shape. 
"I'm going to use the blow dryer, so be prepared for the loud noise, okay?" Simat nodded as she raised her hands to cover her face, which was too cute. For now, you put it on medium and scrunched her hair while drying it from below. 
"When I was younger, I wanted to be a hairstylist so bad. I thought I was so skilled when I gave all my dolls haircuts. Looking back at it now, I was actually pretty terrible, but my dad told me I was good enough to be a professional." You look at Simat in the mirror and see her daddy in every aspect. "Dads love their little girls very much. Sometimes, they're a little too overbearing, dictating everything we can and cannot do. I used to hate my dad, who always embarrassed me in front of my friends and never let me stay out late. But I look back on it and think how grateful I am that my father took my hate silently so that I could be protected." 
You don't know what Kohaku has been doing these past years or what he's up to, but the one thing you know is that he would be a good father. After all, he brought Simat here to put her safety above all else, even if it made it look like he was abandoning her. 
"Alright, you're all done! Look at these curls! You don't even know how much money girls spend just to get something similar." Simat lowers her hands to look in the mirror, and it is another arrow to the heart as she curiously raises her hair to play with the bounce. "Okay, go to the living room and finish your movie while I change."
You didn't even ask her a question, but she nodded her head and went down the hall. Slowly, she seems to be opening up, and hopefully, you can get her to be as comfortable as possible. 
After cleaning up and putting everything away, you change into jeans and a turtleneck before grabbing a jacket and making your way over to the kitchen, where you left your phone. There are a couple of missed calls from Rafe and a few missed texts from his parents, but you don't even want to see them, so you just swipe them away. 
To your surprise, there was a text from an unknown number.
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
Arise sunshine, I hope u got ur beauty sleep in. I'll be busy today and tomorrow, so I won't be able to talk much throughout the day, but before she goes to bed, try to give me a call. I'd like to speak to her. 
Also, thanks again for taking care of her during my absence. I know it took u a lot to put aside everything and accept it, and I really appreciate that. No one is as reliable as u r. 💖 😘
What a kissa**, trying to butter you to lessen your anger. Unfortunately, It's working. With a sigh, you lean against the wall and respond.
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
Yeah, yeah.
So far, Simat's doing really well. She's still pretty nonverbal, but I have her nodding yes and shaking her head for no. It seems like your ex really neglected her, but I'm trying to get her to open up at her own pace. 
I'm going to take her shopping. I need to get her clothes that fit and some other necessities that the kid needs.
To your surprise, right when you are about to put your cellular device away, it vibrates to show a reply from your ex. 
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
Ur so responsible I'm envious😙😙
If there is one thing I miss, it's being coddled by u. It was nice to lay in bed and have u bring evryt to me.😪😵‍💫 
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
Why do you still text like a teenage girl?
The amount of emojis you use makes me sick. Please get them off my screen before I block you and take your kid away.
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
There is nothing against a grown man using abbreviations.
Stop being prejudiced (Y/n)😠🥶. U really need to fix that stereotyping.
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+get Simat wtv she needs and get urself a little smth on the side. 
Ps. If u still like cherry panties and end up buying sum, pls send pics.
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
First of all, I'm an independent woman, and I make good money, so I can buy whatever Simat and I want. 
SECOND OF ALL YOU LITTLE PERVERT
I'M IN A RELATIONSHIP!
DO NOT ASK FOR PANTY SHOTS UNLESS YOU'D LIKE MY BOYFRIEND TO HEAR ABOUT IT.
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
I can fight.
He is literally so damn obnoxious you cannot stand him. You're just going to leave him on read, but you will take your money, not because you need it. Who would give up free money? 
Shutting off your phone, you place it in your back pocket, grab your purse and keys from the nightstand, and then call out to the girl. "Come, Simat. We're going to go to the store and get you the things that you need." 
The kid turned to face you before glancing down at her doll and then back at you. "Yes, you can bring your doll. Just don't drop it, okay." she nods quickly before hopping off the bed and running up to you. 
With everything ready, you exit your front door and lock it with your keypad and fingerprint. Once that's done, the two of you make your way to the elevator, which requires a key card to operate, and begin your descent to the parking lot. 
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
Simat didn't mind your music while on the ride; she seemed infatuated with the city, watching everything that could be seen. As she sits in the back seat, you give yourself a mental note to buy a booster seat as well. 
Due to the morning traffic, it took a little while to get to the mall, but you both made it safely and parked close to the entrance. With there being many people on a Saturday morning, you crouch down and meet the girl's gaze. 
"Do you want to hold my hand so you don't get lost in the crowd?" It didn't take much convincing for her to nod her head and stick out her left hand. With a smile, you grabbed it gently but held it firmly as the two of you entered. 
With the holiday coming up, it was a bit hectic with all the people there, though the discounts and sales were a nice bonus. First, you wanted to get everything Simat needed before you even looked at your favorite stores. 
Once you enter the mall and start looking at the things you like, you lose all sense of time and are there for hours. 
The little Oni held your hand in her own as she obediently followed you and stayed by your side. While you shopped and picked up clothes that looked in her size, she surveyed everything she could. She watched people like they were in a movie, almost like something she didn't see very often. 
After filling up your basket, it came to your favorite part: the try-on! Of course, you don't mean to take advantage of how obedient she is, but it is crucial that her clothes fit and look good. 
Sitting by the bench by the mirrors and dressing rooms, you giddily awaited every outfit. And you were not disappointed! Every fit looked perfect with her adorable face, cute baby horns, and gorgeous curly hair. Honestly, if you hadn't gotten the job you did, you could have pursued fashion. 
She looked good in everything, and you had to make sure to get a few onesies and animal sweatshirts. There was a hoodie with cat ears that she particularly liked looking at—geez, it was just absolutely adorable. 
Even though Kohaku pissed you off, you still sent him a few pictures of his daughter that you were sure he'd appreciate. 
With the clothes bought and paid for, you went to a store and let Simat look around. She seemed to like playdough and legos. Then, when coming across the stuffies, her eyes sparked on the dragon and wolf. Of course, they were a must, so you bought three each. 
The Oni refused to let them pack it up, so she carried her Orc doll, one dragon, and one wolf stuffed toy. It was both adorable and funny how she carried around these massive toys with a blank look on her face. 
Another snap of a picture, saved and sent. 
Now that her part of the shopping was done, you decided to skip a few unimportant stores since you've already been shopping for so long. It helped that you rented out one of the children's push carts that have a fake car attached to the front so Simat could sit down when she got tired. 
Surprisingly, it was nice shopping with Simat, although her obedience and non-verbal speech made it easy. You wonder what it would be like having your own child by your side to shop with. They'd probably be rowdy, complaining about being bored and exhausted from being on their feet.
And now that you're thinking about it, you don't even see having kids in the future, at least with Rafe. He's a good man; he makes you happy, and your relationship is decent and healthy. But right now, you can't see that far in the future with Rafe. You wonder if it's because your ex-boyfriend suddenly showed up again after six years to stir up your old feelings. It's hard to forget your first love when that was the person you believed wholeheartedly was yours forever. 
But just like before, you'll have to let him go as he is only in your life again for a short while. 
When the music quieted down, you were surprised to hear Simat's stomach growl. She even looked down, embarrassed. You told her that you were going to buy whatever was in your hand, and then you'd both get something to eat. 
It was bustling in the food court with so many people talking and so much general noise. Holiday music was blaring through the speakers while the rings and dings that food was ready echoed out. 
There's just something you love about places that are filled with vigor. Thankfully, Simat didn't seem to mind either as she rode in her little fake car. You got her some chicken tenders and fries and something simple for yourself since you wanted room for dinner, considering you both were eating a little later. For a dessert, though, you did decide to buy some cinnamon pretzels. 
They've been your favorite snack since forever, something you always get whenever you're shopping at the mall.
Just like this morning, she seemed to wait until you started eating before digging it, but when she started eating, she didn't stop until it was empty. Again, she was even patting her full belly like earlier; geez, it was so cute!
Arrow to the heart!
A couple of times, Rafe tried to call, but you texted him that you were busy, and eventually, you just shut your phone to have some space from him. As much as you love him, you don't want to see him questioning if you're hanging out with other men while you're trying to enjoy the outing with Simat. 
Once you both were done, you looked around a little more until an hour or two passed by, and then you decided it was time to move. You drove to the general store and bought the actual necessities Simat would need while also getting groceries and more toys. She got a few bubble blowers and bath playthings before you called it quits. 
If you'd let her, she'd probably grab the entire bubble toy section. 
Now that everything was purchased, you began the drive home with her new booster seat. Only a few minutes into the drive, she had fallen asleep against the door. You had to wait until a stop to take a picture of her mouth open and arms draped by the side. 
You wonder if she felt safe enough to fall asleep in your presence. Most neglected children would probably stay awake for survival, so seeing her ease up like this was a blessing, 
For the rest of the drive, you took your time with the music calm and on low. Oddly enough, this has probably been one of the most gratifying off days you've had. It was peaceful and fun...something you've been missing from life for a while now. 
Pulling into the underground parking lot, you came to a stop and softly called out to the girl. She jolted awake quickly, blue and green eyes wide open as she assessed her surroundings before rapidly calming down and her expression resuming the usual blankness. 
"Hey, girl. Did you have a good nap?" She slowly nodded her head while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "We are back now, but if you are still sleepy, you can finish your nap when we get upstairs." With another nod, you both exited the vehicle, grabbed all the bags, and made your way to the elevator. 
With everything you got, it was actually cumbersome, but Mama ain't raise no b*tch, and you're going to take everything in one trip. "Press the button with the number 5." She studied the buttons for a second before clicking the right one and glancing up at you as though she were waiting for something. "Good job!" She nodded seriously. 
On your floor, you took a deep breath before picking everything up again, speed-walked down the hall, and took the corner before reaching your place at the end. You entered the security lock and your thumbprint and pushed it wide open to carry everything in. 
Quickly, you dropped everything down in the foyer and stood back to full height while shaking your arms. "Phew, my wrist." You complained softly before turning your attention to Simat, who stood silently by your side. "Alright, you can go watch TV while I put everything away. I'll start dinner after, and we'll eat together, okay?" 
With one of her nods, she takes her three giant dolls and walks over to the living room before doing a little hop to get on the bed. 
Now that you were preoccupied, you took your time putting away the groceries and necessities. With her clothes, you pulled out a couple of your collapsable bins and folded her clothes inside. It'll be in your room for now against the wall, so when she needs to change, everything will be right here. 
For dinner, you made loco moco, which should be easily digestible. And who doesn't like hamburgers, rice, a sunny-side-up egg, and brown gravy? Like before, she waited until you took your seat and took a bite first before eating. 
After this big plate, you honestly could go to sleep right then and there, but it was too early, and you didn't want to leave Simat alone. Her toys are all in the ottoman in the living room, so after washing dishes, you let her pull out the things she wanted and played along. Her obsession right now seemed to be the bubbles, so you stood around blowing them as she jumped around, trying to catch them. 
You even sent a video to Kohaku, who still had yet to see the images from earlier. He must be pretty preoccupied if he couldn't look at them yet. Hopefully, he answers when you put her to bed; it would be good if he showed consistency.
"Alright, Simat. It's bath time. Put your toys away, okay?" She nods, following your orders until the living room is clean again, and shuffles towards the bathroom, where you have already filled the tub with warm water and more soapy bubbles. 
Simat's hair texture and scalp didn't seem to need to be washed every day, though you'll scrub it again just for tonight, but this time with products that align with her hair type. All clean, you took her out and gave her a robe her size before traveling to the bedroom, where you pulled out a matching set of kitty pajamas. 
She changed while you cleaned up the bathroom and wiped water that fell out of the bath. When you checked the time, it had just hit eight p.m. At her age, she shouldn't go to sleep any later than nine, so you ushered her to her bed in the living room. 
It now looked more like it belonged to a child with her seven stuffed animals and pink fluffy blanket. "Simat, it's bedtime. Come lay down, and I'll try to call your father." You tell her, and she comes over to hop on the mattress and snuggle beneath the covers. 
Taking a deep breath, you called and hoped he answered for the sake of his daughter. However, it seems your prayers fell on deaf ears as it continued to ring and ring before ending when the call dropped. You tried again, and still, you received no response; it was just the automatic voicemail coming up. 
Now, you have to be the bearer of bad news. "I'm sorry, Simat-" Kohaku's number pops up on the screen, and you breathe a sigh of relief. "About time you answer!" 
He laughs on the line as you hear the sound of cracking and buzzing fading off in the distance. "Sorry, sorry, please don't rip my head off! I said I would try to answer, but I get even busier at night." 
"Doing what?" You challenge only to receive an awkward chuckle in response. Sighing, you lean back against the bed and speak. "Whatever, I don't wanna know. I'm going to hand over the phone to Simat." Without waiting for an answer, you give your phone to the girl, who holds it close with both hands. 
Geez, it looks so cute, arrow to the heart!
While the two 'talked, ' you got up and went to your room to grab a change of clothes and hair products for afterward. He seemed to be talking a lot, so you took a seat in your office and checked over your work emails. 
It appears everything has been running smoothly while you've been off. This is not a surprise, considering most get their act together for a holiday bonus at the office during the holidays. Less work meant less stress and less stress meant happier days and more off time. 
There's a soft knock on your door frame, and you look up to see Simat in the doorway with your phone in her hand. "Oh, are you done speaking with Daddy?" She nods and comes closer to hand over your phone. "Okay, go lay down, and I'll be there to tuck you in." 
You wait for her to be out of sight before raising your phone and asking, "Hello?" 
"Hey, it seems like you two had a good day."��
"Yeah, did you get a chance to look at the pictures and stuff I sent?" You ask and lean back in your swivel chair. 
"I did!" He responds with a slight laugh. There's a flicking sound, something you recognized as the flicking open of a zippo lighter. "I saw you cut and did her hair; it looks really good. Also, she looked so cute in the Christmas dress. Try to have her wear that during the holiday." 
A smile plays on your lips while you shake your head. "She looked so cute in everything else, too. It seemed like she really liked clothes with cat or dog ears that she could play with. For Christmas, you should get her some Legos, probably a medieval castle with a dragon. She seems fascinated with dragons and wolves." 
"I love that. She's creative!" 
You hate the way you can practically hear and see his smile from his voice. It brings about that nostalgia and deep yearning you've been pushing down. "Do you want to hear about our day?"
"Of course, I'm surprised you even asked." 
B*stard, you wish he was just an asshole so you didn't feel this way. But right now, all you can do is keep it in the back of your head, as this is not permanent. In a few months, both of them will gone, and you'll never see them again. 
So, you told him everything about the day, starting with breakfast and the little things you noticed all the way down to her snuggling up in bed and eagerly awaiting to hear from her father. You wanted him to know everything that you've observed so it would be easier for him to understand and take care of her. 
Switching dominant guardians would probably be stressful, but hopefully, it'll be easy for her to assimilate to the change. 
"And that's everything. I'm off tomorrow and the next day, so if you're going to come over, give me a heads-up so I can make food or something." You murmur while playing with the ends of your hair. 
"I got sh*t to do tomorrow, but the next day, I'll definitely come by. It will probably be later in the afternoon, so have some mochi crunch ready for me to pound." 
"For real?" You question while rising from your seat. "You're going to bloat up eating all that soy. Do you really want to scare your daughter by turning into a mush monster?" 
He gasps on the line and murmurs something in Japanese that you cannot hear. "First of all, you need not to be so judgmental, you judgmental b*tch. People get canceled over things like that. Second of all, I ain't hearing sh*t from you, who eats like two bags of hot Cheetos a week."
After all these years, he can still joke like it were just the two of you again, sitting at the small theater and making a fool himself. It makes sense; everyone always wanted to be his friend with his high charisma and colorful humor. 
It makes sense why he couldn't be yours forever. A man like that belongs to others, not to a small-town girl like you. "Whatever. I need to take a shower, so I'm hanging up now. Just be aware I'll be calling you every night at eight because I don't want her going to bed too late." 
"Got it—good night (Y/n). And thanks again for taking care of her. You've always been good at taking care of other people. I just know you're going to fill her with every bit of love and joy you bring. People have always liked coming to you to feel better." 
There's that warmth again in your belly, that little sting that both hurts and feels good. You both want him to get out of your life and stay. 
"Goodnight." Is all you could muster before ending the call and exhaling a deep breath. For now, you don't want to think about him anymore. "Did I take too long?" You ask the little Oni as you come over to the couch. 
She shook her head sluggishly, proving her point wrong as she struggled to stay awake. With a small smile, you tuck her in and lay her stuffies by her side as she snuggles the Orc one. "Goodnight, Simat. Sweet dreams. I'll come wake you in the morning, and we'll have some bacon and eggs, okay?" 
Simat doesn't nod this time; however, you do see the faintest smile on her lips when the TV screen flashes brightly. 
Arrow to the heart! 
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
The following day, you two stayed in your robes and ate breakfast together before lying in her bed together. With the rain wreaking havoc on the outside, you both decided to stay in and pass the day on.
She seemed to want to watch the Dragon Ball movies, so you had a marathon all day with candies and fruits in the living room. Of course, you made sure to fill her in on the lore since there was so much that happened throughout the series that she was not aware of. 
When there are things that catch her interest, she becomes consumed by them, having to indulge in all forms of content before letting it go. It kind of reminds you of yourself and your unhealthy obsession with certain books when you were younger—some of the worst and best times of your life. 
For lunch, you had hot dogs and chips before watching some more, and for dinner, it consisted of smoked pork and green beans. The cycle repeated as you played a little bit longer before she showered and lay down to talk to her father. 
This time, he thankfully answered on the first ring, and two could talk. When they were done, she handed the phone right back to you, only for Kohaku to ask how your day was again. You both spoke for a little bit before you ended the call and tucked Simat in. 
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
It was the day when your ex-boyfriend would be coming over, and you couldn't stop the anxiety you were feeling...nor the excitement of seeing him. So wrong; it was wrong for you to feel like for another man while you were in a relationship. 
But it's fleeting, it should be. 
Today, you both ate some cereal and changed into different clothes. It was not raining, but heavy gloomy clouds remained, so you decided to take Simat out to an arcade. Her blue and green eyes had sparked in the flashing lights of the game room, and you could for once see her excitement. 
Whatever she wanted to play, she got it, and when you played air hockey with her, she just kept beating you. It made no sense; you used to be the undefeated champion?! Even Kohaku fell to your power; it was absolutely unbelievable. 
She ate your a** up in almost every other competitive game; at some point, you just had to let her go off and play the games herself. Eventually, it was a little past one, and you wanted to be back before her father arrived, so you brought her to the reward section and let her get whatever she wanted. 
An arrow stuck you in the heart when she bought matching mood rings and gave you one. 
The drive back was peaceful, and when you arrived at your apartment, you were surprised to see Kohaku leaning against your door as he scrolled on his phone.
"Hey, you pig." You call out and start approaching him. "I thought I said to give me a heads-up. It's gonna make me look suspicious if some emo creep hangs around my front door." 
Kokahu fakes an injury as he holds a hand to his heart and swings a plastic bag by his side. "I'm hurt. How can you get even prettier but meaner as the time goes by." He whines. "I even brought you your favorite dessert from the bakery back home, and this is how you treat me?" 
Damn, now you feel like sh*t and bashful from his compliment. His stupid a** continues to be such a smooth talker, and he doesn't even realize the effects they are having on you. 
"Whatever." You mumble and enter your password, making sure to cover it from prying eyes before opening the door and letting everyone in. 
Simat heads in first and goes straight to her bed, where she tries to grab all her stuffies and brings them over to her dad to see. "Wow, what is all this?" He exclaims and kneels, only for her to shove them into his arms. 
"I told you, she has an obsession with dragons and wolves." You respond while placing her arcade bag down on the coffee table. 
"Did they not have any Oni stuffies?" he asks, coming closer so he can collapse on the couch bed. 
You turned to him with an expression as though you couldn't believe the dense sh*t that came out of his mouth. "Are you dumb? Have you seen the Oni stuffies they sell? It'll give her nightmares!" 
Kohaku only mocks you, clicking his tongue and smacking his lips as he looks away. 
"Simat, why don't you take out your bubbles, and your daddy can set up the automatic one?" She nodded enthusiastically before removing the ottoman's top and all her bubble toys and devices. 
With those two busy, you get out the snacks and make them a tray, placing them down on the nightstand before returning to the kitchen to start dinner. 
The two seemed to get along; it was easy for Kohaku to get along with anyone. He was also the one the kids always liked, no matter their sass or attitude. 
Simat is in good hands; she probably won the game by getting him as her father. He'd honestly spoil her so rotten that you're going to have to instill gratefulness into her so she doesn't get a nasty attitude later on. 
For today's menu, there were buttered noodles and shrimp with a side of fresh Cezar salad. Wait...you don't know if Simat likes seafood or is allergic to it. "Hey, Kohaku." 
The man hums before you hear him shift and make his way over. "What is it?" When you look up, you have to stop yourself from audibly gasping. He took off his leather jacket and shirt, leaving him in a black tank top and jeans. 
His arms have grown to a much larger and sculpted shape, not to mention the wiggly veins that protrude against his pale skin. He's always been fit and attractive, but he seemed to have gone through a second growth spurt, and he exerts masculinity right in front of you. 
"Uh. What was I saying..." You state out loud before shaking your head and returning your gaze to the pot. "Oh, right. Did her mom say anything about allergies, like seafood? I'm making butter noodles with shrimp, but I don't know if she's allergic." 
He shakes his head while stepping forward and leaning over the pot. "No, not from what I'm aware. And I've got to say, I really missed your cooking. My dad still nags me about getting some beef stew that he had last time all those years ago." 
Your heart skips a beat, and blood rushes to your face as you focus on cleaning the shrimp. "Well, nothing beats a home-cooked meal, and your dad could never cook for sh*t." A laugh rings out from your lips from just the memory. 
Staying over at his dad's place on the farm always resulted in you and Kohaku secretly feeding the dogs whatever his father made. It was nearly unedible that only an animal could genuinely eat. Because of that, you'd go up to his room later and snack on all the treats you hid in the mini-fridge. 
The thoughts bring about nostalgia, but you quickly push it away when you feel that bubbling pressure in your chest.
What the hell? Why do you want to cry? Why do you still care? Why doesn't he care like you do? 
"Anyway, uh, that's all I had to ask. You can go back to playing with her." You mumbled and waved one of your dirty hands at the exit of the kitchen. 
"You sure?" Kohaku inquires while taking a step forward. "I can help, you know." 
Why does he have to be so nice!? No one told him he had to be so considerate; no one told him he had to make up for obliterating your heart. "No, Kohaku. I already said you can go back. You didn't come here to hang out with me, so don't waste your time." You didn't mean for attitude to spill from your lips, yet the building anger at yourself was unleashed on him. 
He doesn't say anything, but you can feel his gaze following your movement as you take the tray of shrimp to the sink to clean. No way could you face him at this moment; the embarrassment mortified you, and it would literally kill you to see him giving you a pitiful expression. 
How pathetic it must be when he can see that you still care so much about him. 
"Just give me a holler if you need anything." He responds after a moment of silence, and you only hum back. 
His footsteps fade, and only once you hear his voice faintly from the living room do you allow yourself to turn and face the spot he was standing in. 
Dammit, he fell out of love while you never left. 
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
"Alright, everyone, wash your hands and come to the dinner table!" You inform them while plating their dishes in your fancy bowls. 
Kohaku says something before you hear little fit pitter-patter against the wooden floors as though she were running. He's quick to follow behind, laughing slightly until you hear him praise her as they reach the bathroom. 
Carrying their food, you place them down on the table and return to pour them glasses of water. This feeling of domestication riddles through your brain, igniting flares of satisfaction from within. You've always been a giver and a provider, and doing exactly so scratches a burning itch. 
"Look at this!" Kohaku exclaims while entering the dining room, carrying Simat on his hip. "No one cooks as good as (Y/n). I swear, you are so lucky you get to her food every day." While he speaks, he reaches over to pinch her little chubby cheeks. 
"You're a grown man. You can make your own food." You murmur as you leave to place the pitcher of water back in the fridge. 
"What a killjoy!" He shouts before saying something inaudible to his daughter. 
Now that everything is ready, you grab your own bowls of food and return to eat with them. As you approach, you hear his usual 'itadakimasu' and almost trip over your own feet. In that moment, you could practically be transferred right back into the past.
This is eating you up alive... You're not going to be able to last before you die again of a broken heart. 
It took you a moment and a few deep breaths until you could return and settle down. By then, he was already halfway through his food, chowing down like a pig, with his heterochromatic eyes twinkling in enjoyment. 
He suddenly burps loudly and apologizes before turning to face his daughter and pointing his chopsticks at her. "Why aren't you eating? Do you not like it?" 
"She does this often," you say, your attention on your bowl as you prepare your own pair and start collecting the noodles. "She only starts eating after I take the first bite." 
Kohaku's gaze settles on your body, but you don't say anything anymore before taking a bite and chewing. Now, Simat follows and splits her chopsticks before eating, too. 
"You're cute, Simat." The older Oni states as he reaches over to swipe a small piece of garlic from her face. 
The girl blinks, almost looking stunned, even if her expression remains neutral, and it breaks a smile on your face. "She is, very much so." 
Nothing more is said as everyone continues to eat. Kohaku went back for seconds and made an even bigger bowl than what you made initially, but you're not going to complain. It's better he eats it all than letting it rot in the fridge before you throw it out. 
A sudden ringing from your room grabs your attention, and you realize you are getting a phone call. "Oh, I'll be right back," you murmur and shift to get up and make your way down the hall. 
However, your eyes nearly widen when you realize it is Rafe calling. "Shit." You had been so preoccupied with Simat that you hadn't been in contact with him at all this whole time. 
"Hello?" You answered and quietly shut your door for privacy. 
"Hello? Hello!? Babe, how can you not talk to me for two days straight? Not even just a quick text goodnight or good morning!?" 
He had every right to be mad because it took minimal effort to stay in contact and let him know you were still alive. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've just been so busy, you know-" 
"With what!?" He snaps, and you nearly recoil from his blaring tone. "You don't work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, so what the hell have you been doing? 
There's a lump in your throat that nearly chokes you dead. "First of all, watch your tone when you talk to me. I already apologized for not staying in contact. Second of all, if I'm busy, then I'm busy. It's the holiday, I still haven't bought any presents, and I still need to help management prepare for the office party. Just because it was my off days doesn't mean I hadn't work to do." Straight lying through your teeth, you swear you could have been struck down for such a vice. 
Though you weren't wrong, there were still things you needed to do...you just haven't gotten to them yet. 
"And that warranted not even a text? You know what, I'm coming over. We need to talk face to face." Your breath hitches, and alarmed 'no!' comes from your lips without your will. 
"I-I'm not going to see you when you're pissed off. You know you say things you don't mean when you're angry, and I'm going to take that right now. I'm really sorry for not keeping in contact, and I'll do better. I'm in the middle of eating, so don't talk to me until you've calmed down and thought thoroughly about what you want to say." 
You don't wait for him to respond and hang up. A sigh expells deep from within your lungs as you collapse on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. Rafe was not entirely in the wrong; you could have done better. It does make you feel awful keeping this from him; you've never been one to carry such big secrets. 
If he were just more understanding, you could let him in, and he could even help if he really wanted. But if you think about it, if one of his ex-girlfriends dropped off their kid, who wasn't even related to Rafe, and told him to care for them, you don't know how you'd feel. 
"Ugh!" You're an awful person; everything you've been doing is just reinforcing that. You're in a relationship, yet you're letting these past feelings for an ex affect you! It's not right; it was never right.
You should have slammed that door in his face the minute you saw him. You should have left him alone to deal with his own responsibility. You should have gotten rid of these feelings a long time ago before moving on and getting with a different person. 
But you thought you had. You spent years working on yourself and your career, getting to the point where you didn't need a man in your life to be there for you. In the time being, you went on a few dates here and there, but when you really felt ready, you settled down with Rafe. 
No more, you don't even want to think of this anymore. For now, you just need to handle this. It's only a month or two more, and then they're both gone. 
At this point, your stomach is queasy from the mess inside your head, and you're no longer hungry. You return only to grab your bowls and dump the remaining food. Simat was still finishing what little remained, so you began washing the dishes and attempting to busy yourself. 
Work starts tomorrow, and you have to go in early. Once you finish this, you'll have to call the nursery school or a pre-k so they can watch Simat while you are at work. You'll have to explain some circumstances, but overall, most daycare workers are understanding and accommodating, so you shouldn't have much to worry about. 
Hopefully, Simat will be okay. It's probably too early for her to make friends when she's still opening up to you and her father. However, the environment would most likely do her some good, and she can see how children her age act with one another. 
"Thank you for the meal!" Kohaku beams as he steps into the kitchen to hand you their empty dishes. 
You only hum in response and continue what you are doing. The Oni sighs, and in your peripheral, you see him lean against the counter. "Is everything okay? You've been kind off since-" 
"Since what?" You interject and finally turn your head to meet his beautiful gaze. "I'm busy taking care of your responsibility and trying to make sure your daughter gets everything she needs while you're off doing god(s) knows what." He didn't deserve your anger; all that is happening is your own Karma. Nevertheless, you just need him to stop this good guy act at this point. Receiving his kindness just makes it harder to move on. 
A pathetic laugh makes its way from your lips as you shake your head. "Honestly, you show up at my door in the middle of the night after no contact for six years just to drop off a kid from the relationship you left me for. How ironic is that?" Another laugh echoes out from the sheer audacity. "It's so ludicrous that I can't even believe I let you just walk all over me like that. Am I just a joke to you?" 
"What!?" He exclaims and shakes his head while standing straight up. "Of course not. I-" 
"Not a joke, yet you treated our relationship the way you did once you went to college?" Your interjection silences whatever words are on his lips as he looks away to bite his lips. 
Shutting off the water, you begin drying your hands on a dish towel and keeping your gaze away. "It's whatever. You fell out of love, right? I wasn't what you wanted, and that's just the way life is. But I will never forget the feeling of not being enough. And you're only making it worse by pitying me and trying to make up for how you did me so dirty." 
Finally, you turn and face him, standing right in front of him and craning your neck to stare into his beautiful eyes. "I'm your ex. You're my ex. You're not obligated to do anything for me." 
"I just... can't." He murmurs with a frown. "Before we were even in a relationship, we were best friends." 
With a scornful laugh, you find yourself at your limit. Shaking your head, you step past him, only stop midway and turn back. "We're not friends now and will never be again. Get that through your head." 
You don't let him say anymore, leaving him in his spot as you make your way to your office and shut the door.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
You stayed in your office working on backed-up drafts and clearing fallen deals for the rest of the night. The two continued to play for a while until you got up, only to open the door and yell down the hall that he needed to bathe her.
He's a grown man; he should know how to bathe his own daughter so you can just leave them be. While you worked, they seemed to spend a long time in there before you heard their feet padding across the floor back towards the living room. 
You're not sure how much time had passed before there was a knock at the door that spurred you to jump in surprise. Sighing, you mumbled a 'come in' or something along those lines as you resumed reading the documents on your screen. 
The door parts slowly, and from your peripheral, you see Kohaku sticking his head in as he takes in the appearance of that room. "I just put Simat to bed, so I'm gonna get going." 
"Okay. You can show yourself." You reply without giving him your full attention. 
He remains still as though there is still something left on his tongue. And you were right as you heard him take a deep breath and open his mouth. "I'm sorry-"
"F*ckin A." You sneer and snap your head to face him. "Is that all you know what to say? Your head f*ckin broken? Can't come up with anything other than useless, thoughtless apologies? Just shut up and leave." 
Those words hit the nail on the head as he suddenly nods his head and runs a hand through his black and white hair. "...You're right." That is all he says as he turns and begins walking away. 
You sit stagnant, listening to his fading footsteps before the front door opens and shuts quickly with a faint click. 
Alone, you finally break down, and a sob stuck in your throat finally pours out in strained waves. 
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
The following day, you got ready for work and made breakfast for the both of you. While dressing her up for the day and packing her bag with snacks and her toys, you explained what was going on. She seemed to understand, but you made sure to tell her everything about how the day was going to go. 
With a nice drive, you took her to the daycare and talked with the lady there a little bit to remind them of Simat's unique qualities. She seemed genuine, so you gave the little Oni a big hug and told her to be a good girl before leaving for work. 
Everything was normal; it went by with the usual minor annoyances here and picking up the slack of your department. Half of them usually get so lazy during the holidays, and the other half works their finger to the bone to get that second Christmas bonus. 
As you busied yourself, you couldn't help the little anxiety in your heart. You worried about Simat and hoped she was doing well. If anything happened to her, you would go off; it doesn't matter if they're just kids. There is this intense desire to protect her even though she is not yours. It's surprising how easily you grew attached to her, but then again, she is just a little girl.
Honestly, you couldn't wait to pick her up, but of course, someone messed up an insurance deal, and you had to stay behind to fix it. You're the unit supervisor; this should be designated to someone else, but they're all incompetent. 
Once you finished it, you were out the door. People were trying to talk to you, yet you ignored them as you rushed to your car and sped towards the nursery. You were at least an hour later than what you promised, and I hope she was not resentful. 
When you arrived, you threw the car in park at the front and rushed to get inside. Glancing around, you tried to find Simat, but she was nowhere to be seen. 
"Ms. (L/n)?" 
Your head whipped around to see the worker from earlier. "Hello! I'm sorry I'm late. I was pushed into overtime." Words spill out of your mouth as you attempt to calm yourself. 
The young lady only nods in an understanding manner. "It's no worries; most parents usually end up working later than expected. Follow me. Simat's been waiting eagerly for you." She expresses and waves an arm in an indication to follow her. 
Leading over to another space, you see it's a small room with desk put together where some kids are coloring. In the corner, Simat sat by herself with her head down as she played with her Orc doll. Even though her face always remained in the usual neutral expression, her sagging shoulders and low gaze felt close to melancholy. 
Quietly, with soft steps, you strode up to her from behind before kneeling carefully in your work skirt. "What are you playing?" As soon as she hears your voice, her entire body perks up. Her head snaps in your direction with a slight glimmer of tears glossing over in her colorful iris'.
Unexpectedly, her little hands drop her favorite doll to reach forward and grasp the front of your button-up and conceal her face in your chest. You hadn't expected such a reaction, nor did you think she'd display an expressive depiction of emotion. "Simmy, did you think I abandoned you?" She nods after a moment of hesitation, which strikes you right in the heart. 
Softly grasping her shoulders, you pull her back so you can look into those icy blue and line green eyes. Tears are staining her tan cheeks, which you wipe away softly. "I would never. I have you, and you have me. I'm not going anywhere. Now, let's go home and make something to eat, okay?" 
Rubbing her tiny fist against her eyes, she takes a deep breath, nods, and turns back to grab her pink bag and doll before returning to you. She even holds your hand without you asking, squeezing tightly as though she were afraid you'd slip away. 
How are you going to be able to let her go when the time comes? 
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
Through a consistent cycle, you continue to care for Simat, with her father calling every night before she goes to bed. Every two days, he shows up to see her while you maintain your distance. Sometimes, he takes her out to the arcade or ice skating, which you know does wonders for her development. 
You can see the evolution of her opening up and expressing herself without constraint. She conveys her dislikes more without fear and actively does her own thing without having to be told to. You didn't think you could be so proud of a child that was not yours, but here you are. 
Still, she has yet to speak, which had you severely worried, but the daycare tried to explain some situations to you. From Sim's early childhood, she went through a lot of neglect and stress, which probably formed a health condition called SM, Selective Mutism. It's an anxiety disorder that were affecting her verbal ability to communicate in regular or social situations. 
There were many paths you could take to help her: mental health therapy, speech therapy, or even medication if it comes down to it. At her age, you'd really like to stay away from medicating her, so it will only be acknowledged in a desperate need. 
For now, you and Kohaku agreed to continue what you have been doing and assimilate her into a healthy dynamic. After a few months, she'll go back with him, and then he'll take his daughter to get her recommendations for mental health and speech therapy. As much as you'd like to give her the proper treatment now, it would be best for her to participate in it when she can be in a more permanent environment. 
This is only temporary, but the effects you have on her, as well as the effects she has on you, will become permanent. 
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
November passed, and most of December did before it finally became Christmas Eve. You had your work party, and luckily, it was on the day Kohaku came over. And because it was the holiday, he agreed to sleep over for Christmas.  
Currently, the two were outside playing in the snow. You can see them from your window as you peek to check up on them. 
Three snowmen are built: a little one, another slightly bigger, and a humongous one. The small one has the oversized pink sweater she wore when she first showed up. The middle one has a giant smile and a huge heart drawn over the middle. The biggest one was wearing Kohaku's leather jacket, which slightly sagged on its stick arms. 
Snow continued to fall and build up in the yard; you could practically hear the crunch of it beneath their feet. Simat suddenly fell back, staring up at the clouded grey sky that began to grow dark with the passing of the afternoon. You can see her breath in the air, the cold whisp drifting as she breathed out. 
Kohaku smiled as he came over to pat her face and collapse next to her lightly. He said something you couldn't hear before moving his arms and legs, which his daughter mimicked. They both stood up together and took a step back to look over the snow angels they made. 
Someday, you'd like to be down there and play along as the cold numbs the tips of your fingers and burns the surface of your face. But your place isn't by their side, and very slowly, you are coming around to accept. 
You're almost done getting ready for the party, finished with your hair and makeup, and are now just waiting for Rafe to come pick you up, as he is your plus one. Leaving your spot from the window, you make your way to the kitchen, where you fill a kettle with water and place it on the burner. 
Checking the oven, dinner is almost done; it should be ready a little after you depart. You're not worried about leaving the two alone while you're out; they'll be fine. After all, you're not part of their family. 
The front door clicks and unlocks as you hear the sound of Kohaku's voice. Then the kettle started screaming, steam spewing out of the spout in rapid waves. Grabbing two mugs from the cupboard, you shake the hot chocolate packets first before pouring a little milk and then the boiling water. 
A cacophony of sounds blares from the TV, as it sounds like they resumed their Christmas movie from earlier. Your phone from the bathroom starts to ring, so you quickly place spoons in the mugs and bring them over to the two. "Here," you mumble, placing them down on the coffee table before wiping your hands on the sides of your pants and vacating down the hall. 
Answering the phone with a hello, you hear Rafe's voice on the other line. "Hey, I'm about five minutes away. Should I park downstairs or in the front?"
"In the front. I just have to put on my dress." You respond while entering your bedroom. "Love you, be safe." 
"Of course, love you too." 
The dress for the occasion was a red satin dress, strapless, with a tight-fitting corset that snatched in your waist. You wore a pair of mesh sleeves that reached your upper bicep with white fluff around the band. With a slit on the right side, it was slightly provocative but appealing to show the shape of your leg. Because of its wide flair and slightly long train, you needed to wear a pair of high heels. 
To be honest, you felt overdressed, but there are not many events that you go to where you can really dress up and make yourself feel like a pretty princess. Dress on, makeup set, and hair done; the only thing that is left is to grab your matching clutch purse and your keys. 
"Alright, I'm going. Try not to stay up too late or burn my place down." At the sound of your approaching voice, Kohaku and Simat turned their heads from the movie to face you. Simmy's eyes twinkled, gleaming in the light as she sat up straighter. 
"Wow, gorgeous as ever." The older Oni praised and rested his head against his fist with a smile that showed off his fangs. "Is this prom? Do I need to walk you out to your date and make sure he brings you home at an appropriate time?
Your jaw clenches, and it takes everything in you to eat the words that nearly spewed from your lips unapologetically. It's so funny how he mentions prom when he gave you that promise ring and made a vow to marry you when things settled. 
How naive you were to believe it all. 
Instead of replying, you step forward to kiss Simmy's forehead and tell her goodbye before leaving and locking the door with the passcode and fingerprint. 
You take your time going to the elevator and traveling down, and right as you arrive at the lobby, you see Rafe's vehicle pull up. 
When you got in, Rafe did a double take. He smiled and leaned back in his seat. "Who are you dressing to impress?" 
"Can't I just dress up for myself?" You inquire with a teasing smile. "I practically planned the entire party myself; I deserve to enjoy it. '
With a nod of his head, your boyfriend placed a hand on your thigh and began to drive towards the office. 
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
At a party, regardless of whether it's work-related or not, there's obviously going to be alcohol. You tried to stay away, but it teased you with its fuzzy taste and mind-numbing burn. A lot is going on in your life, including a lot of pain and inner turmoil that you have no outlet for. 
The source of it dwindles in your home, marking everything with their presence. The bed smells of her, and the air reeks of his cologne. Her hair products lay about in the bathroom; his clothes hide in the closet, obscured but there. 
Their shoes sit right there by the door; muddy snow melted on wooden floors. When they leave, getting rid of everything that belonged to them doesn't remove the memories engraved in that place. 
Really, what did you do to deserve this pain? Hadn't you suffered enough? 
Your head is dizzy; your coordination is off, as though you were out at sea. Everyone at the party was enjoying themselves, with faces red and flushed or lighter and hot. Rafe is somewhere, off in some corner, gambling while playing pool. 
Everything tastes the same: the champagne you downed and the water you sipped—it all tastes like bitter resentment. 
"Shouldn't the supervisor who planned the party be enjoying it?" You're barely able to turn your head to see one of your co-workers and fellow supervisor approaching. 
He was at least a decade older than you, with age lines slightly forming around his slim nose. His hair was dark and slicked back, a single stray over his forehead that contrasted against the bright lights of his blue eyes. While others wore ugly Christmas sweaters, Reno refused to wear anything other than his tailored black suit and red satin tie. 
"I'm enjoying it." You hold in a burp and swallow it down. "Don't you see all my drinks?" With gestures at the table, the focus is on the multiple cocktail glasses and stacked shot glasses.
Reno pushed his thin glasses higher up his nose while stepping on the footrest and lifting himself to sit in the high bar chair. "That many drinks are a prescription for a broken heart, supervisor." 
You scowl, twisting your face into a scornful expression. "What you know about a broken heart? You married your high school sweetheart." The words burn worse than whiskey down the throat. "Both of you went to prep school in this big a** city but still married each other." Your pettiness comes forward in full sight as your grip grows tighter on your half-drunken glass. "I hate you and your happy little relationship. Get out of my face." 
Unit one's supervisor laughs in the throat, his gaze shifting to the window. Even this late at night, the city doesn't sleep. Lights blare and flash, horns blare and whine, and people still walk out, even with the snow amassing on the sidewalk. "Everyone is lucky you're a professional, and do not let your emotions affect your work performance." His response sounded so bureaucratic that it only worsened your mood. 
"You are literally the worst person to talk about relationship problems with. I need someone from the streets." Your drunken blunder earns a faint chuckle as the older man reaches for a drink. 
He swirled the burgundy liquid around in the Pinot Noir-shaped glass before shifting to face you. "Whether it is someone with expressive slang or not, we'd presumably provide the same advice." With a reserved sip, he drank from his wine with poise. "Whatever troubles you, the most responsible thing is to confront it head-on. Do not dwell in it, do not prolong it, do not tell yourself that if you just wait it out, things will get better." 
Vibrations from the holiday music rumble beneath your chair, tingling your toes alongside the alcohol buzzing in your veins. How comical it was when he knew nothing of what you were experiencing but nearly hit the mark. 
His simple words somewhat calmed your mind, even managing to get you to sit up and release the glass you had been nursing. "Was Cora your first love?"
Reno licked his lip slightly before setting down his drink. "Actually, no. I had only engaged with my wife a few years after my first love and I became estranged." 
That surprised you as everyone always thought Cora was his first love, considering their dedication to each other. "Do you still think of your first love?"
"Ah, I see where this is going." The supervisor declared with a knowing grin. "I will recount my feelings; however, there is a likelihood that you will hear remarks that do more harm than good." You just wave off his concerns and usher him to continue. With a sigh, he glanced down at his left hand and twiddled with the wedding ring.
"Experiencing your first love is something that no one prepares you for. They do not tell you about the overwhelming emotions or passionate romanticization of every little thing. There is no time to ready your hearts that become utterly consumed by one another. I experienced that firsthand with a young woman at prep named Wilhelmina. A lovely girl connected with a duke in Europe, but even without the knowledge of knowing she harbored royal blood, it would not be far-fetched to think she was a princess. Everything about her was dignified, married with elegance and grace. Many men competed for her hand, and of course, I was one among them." 
You laugh and drunkenly shake your head. "Why am I not surprised that you had relationships with an actual princess? You truly are a man from a different social class than me." 
"Yet we both partake in the same profession," He praises with a raise of his wine glass. "As I was saying, I was attracted to her physical appearance, yes. She was a gorgeous woman; even to this day, many could not even compare. Regardless, her brilliance and compassion outshined all. She was a woman who was all-consuming, and I mean that in the best possible way. Mina treasured knowledge and fell into deep fixation when researching or reading. I was particularly fond of her many tirades when she denounced any bias encountered in educational texts. Very passionate, I must add." 
You narrow your eyes and pucker your lips. "This is all sounding too rich for me. Get to the part where she broke your heart."
Reno scrunched his nose. "I suppose you only have forbearance during work hours." 
"I'm drunk and suffering. What do you expect from me?" You remark, which yields a hum from the older man. 
"Touché, demoiselle. Alright, to the crucial details. Together, our relationship was fiery and passionate. And when I look back at it, I realize it was significantly unhealthy. We became each other's will to live. Life devolved into a diminutive, secluded bubble that others could not penetrate. Every waking moment, we were together, sharing and experiencing the first of certain situations with the other. Many nights, we spoke of what our future would be like, and at the time, neither one of us could fathom a separation. We planned to marry after graduation and move to the Netherlands, where we would live a simple life with a child or two and grow old together. It was idealistic and hopelessly romantic, but to this day, I will never be able to forget that devotion. Nothing I have experienced at this age has even compared. However, it was that strong passion that ended our relationship." 
"What...?" You expel with a harsh gasp. "You broke up for what!?" 
Reno smiled like a parent with a secret they won't tell you. "The connections we shared were strong, overpowering, but unforgettable. I loved her with everything I had to offer, and she reciprocated that fact, if not pouring even more than I did into our relationship. Perhaps that was when the fire of our devotion fizzled out for me while hers burned even brighter, hotter. Mentally, I struggled to maintain a rhythm at her pace and found myself overwhelmed by the fissures forming. No matter how fast I ran or how long I jogged, I couldn't arrive at the same destinations alongside her anymore. Things changed, feelings changed, and I knew that the responsible thing was to confront her and end the relationship." 
Your mouth is dry as the tips of your fingers tingle. "F*ckin A, that's now what I expected. Hey!" You waved over attendance and snatched a shot from her tray before quickly downing it like water. "I wanted your heart shattered! I wanted your heart stepped on and kicked over and utterly obliterated. I hate you men who just fall out of love like it's nothing!" You attempt to grab another shot, but Reno grasps your wrist to stop any movement. 
"Go on ahead." He informs the attendant, who quickly departed from your area. Alone, he lowers your wrist to the table and inhales a deep breath like he couldn't catch a break. "I never fell out of love with Wilhelmina. I still loved her, but what we had could not be maintained. I still love her passion; I still treasure her smile, and I still adore her covetousness for knowledge. I still love that woman, but not in the same manner as before. I was too immature to understand when and where to implement boundaries. I was too young to comprehend that a relationship should not be so obsessive. Wilhelmina and I had loved to live when we should have lived to love. It was not until I spent the years working on myself and maturing that I realized the validity of that statement. Engaging with Cora was not out of necessity or compulsion. I did not need to be with her always or see her constantly. I invited her out for excursions when I wanted to, when I was free. I did not need to ignore my duties and cast aside all responsibilities just because I could not handle being away from her for one second. We took things slow and at our own pace that people often thought we were not together. But it was good for us; we both gave fifty, fifty. Now we've been wedded for nearly fifteen years with not a single lingering issue." 
You've never thought of it at that angle, only burning with wrath from your own overbearing emotions. Wilhelmina sounds just like you; you're relating on a personal level without ever meeting her. The fire of your devotion to Kohaku was so bright that it must have been blinding. It must have been all-consuming, burning away everything that made him who he was. 
Now you understand. You were a flame, small at first, but with all that Kohaku poured into the relationship, into you, you grew into a blaze. You took his kindling without even knowing, consuming his fuel until he could no longer manage his own fire. While your flare evolved into an intense and raging inferno, Kohaku's had extinguished, smothered, with nothing but ashes remaining. 
He did everything and gave you everything to such an extent that the inferno inside of you still burns to this day. 
"I still think of her every once in a while." Reno's voice cuts through your thoughts as your eyes rise from the table. His head faced the window, staring back out at the snowy night sky. "We have remained in contact after all these years, providing updates here and there when we can. Of course, I do lament the way I shattered her heart at the time, but we both agreed that it was the best decision I could have made. Where we are in life currently is everything we could have wanted. It's a shame that such intense flames have become extinguished, but what we love now is a part of our lives, not our entire lives." 
You can only stare at him, tears glossing over and a sting forming in the corner of your eyes. Perhaps this is precisely what you've needed to hear. After the breakup, you cried only once, letting everything out, then buried deep down in a cavern where everything was cold and frozen. You did not heal or express your pain to anyone. So, it formulated into resentment as the years went by, and you could no longer see it rationally, only emotionally. 
For once, you see things clearly and understand what you must do. 
"I guess I didn't need the streets to learn this lesson." You joke softly, attempting to lighten the mood so you do not wail audibly in front of your co-workers and bosses. 
Reno reaches forward, his warm hands settling over your hands to stop tremors you didn't even know that you were experiencing. "You are a good woman, (Y/n). Whatever had transpired in the past is not anyone's fault. Things just worked out the way they did, and you should not blame yourself or your past partner. There doesn't need to be any more blame, just healing." His grip tightened the slightest when you breathed out a trembling exhale. "That man, Rafe(?) I can tell that you hold back with him. Do not try to pacify your flames, (Y/n). Either you share the burdens together or end it responsibly, but it is only advice. Do whatever you need to do." 
Sharing a moment of silence, you both sat there while staring out the wall of windows. The flurries continued to collect on the ground, though it had yet to stop the traffic. Life went on, and life progressed. 
"Now!" Reno had patted your hands before reaching over to his pants and removing his car keys. "Are you in need of a ride, or will you leave along with your date?" 
You didn't answer at first, letting your gaze fall into the distance in the room where Rafe was located. He was enjoying himself, laughing and drinking. He was letting loose, finally releasing all the built-up stress you were causing to accumulate with your lies and hidden secrets. 
"Could I trouble you, good sir, for a ride?" You tease with the first smile you've had all night. 
Reno shared that grin and stood off his seat to offer his elbow while gesturing towards it. "No trouble at all, demoiselle." He remarks in the same joking manner. 
Drunkenly, you wrap your arm around his elbow and allow him to guide you toward the elevator that leads down to the parking lot. Surprisingly, you were aware enough to text Rafe that you were leaving because you didn't feel good. He'd probably not take that too well and be angry with you in the morning, but it's better than nothing. 
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
Your heels hang from your fingers as you shuffle down the hall. Your skin is hot, still burning from the alcohol, so the cool tiled floor alleviates some of that heat. Finally, you reach your door and have to rest your forehead against the wooden partition to steady your coordination. 
When you input your code and fingerprint, the door buzzes slightly, and you attempt to enter as quietly as possible.
The TV is playing, but the volume is low. Not a single light is on but the nightlights and the illumination from Kohaku's phone screen. 
At the sound of the door, he sat up from his position on the living room couch bed, and you could hear the sound of his footsteps against the laminated floor. 
"You were out late." He teases. "Thought I was going to have to track you down and give your date a stern talking to." 
You're still facing the door, you're still holding your shoes, you're still drunker than you've ever been. But it was enough for you to turn around to face him after gathering what little bearings you could muster. 
He stands only a few feet away, shirtless, only in a pair of low-hanging Christmas pants that leave practically nothing to the imagination. The shape of his body was so manly, close to inhuman, with his muscles so profoundly shaped. 
You are starting to understand what Reno meant by boundaries.
"I'm still in love with you." 
Kohaku's heterochromia eyes widen, the whites largely visible as he stands stagnant in his spot. His expression from earlier had fallen, leaving his lips pursed tightly. Even his built chest and broad pectorals hadn't moved, as though you gripped his lungs and tore them out. 
"Why are you looking at me like that?" You slur with a heavy tongue and a slight tilt of your head. "I thought it was obvious." 
He doesn't respond at first, either trying to collect his bearings or figure out the right words to say. "I-, you must have really drank a lot. You always said such nonsense when you had too much to drink." The Oni attempts to jest and laugh, but you do not share that giggle. 
"There you go again, taking me for a joke again." Your murmur at that point was more to yourself as you dropped your shoes and stumbled your way to your bedroom. 
Kohaku followed after a moment of hesitation, lingering in the doorway while you heaved yourself on your bed at the edge. No one says anything, just listening to the faint rumble of the TV. 
"Tonight, I spoke to my co-worker..." You begin faintly. "He married his high school sweetheart, but not his first love." Your attention lingers on the window at the side of your room, staring out at the snowy weather. "I did not tell him what I was going through, but he offered advice that was exactly what I needed to hear. Before...I saw what happened to us as you just abandoning me, completely ditching me because you didn't love me anymore. It was more complex than that, wasn't it?" 
Tears gloss over once again, but this time, you let them fall and smudge whatever makeup remained. "You still loved me; it just became too much. It must have been so exhausting to give your all every waking moment." Everything tastes bitter on your tongue. "I don't fully understand because I still have so much to give...I still had so much to offer. But you...I must have taken everything and still begged for more. I should have understood, but I was young, and immature, and passionately in love with the idea of love." 
The guilt is so evident on his face it's sickening. If this were you just a few hours earlier, you'd probably snap and insult him, unable to bear with his pity. 
"Why are you feeling bad? You made your decision, and you did what you did. It was for the best because if you stayed, we both would have gone up in flames." 
Kohaku inhaled deeply while reaching a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "I just..." His gaze was anywhere else but your face. "I still loved you. I still couldn't forget you. You were...you were everything. What we had was unforgettable; most things can't even reciprocate the feelings I had with you." Everything mirrored Wilhelmina and Reno so closely that the irony spurred you to laugh. 
Kohaku falls silent as you hold your belly with your arms crossed, hunching over and laughing with your eyes shut. It wasn't funny in a humorous way anymore. It wasn't even funny in a pathetic way, either. 
Loving to live, obsessing over the idea of devotion, you were addicted to the unhealthy toxicity of it. 
Finally, after a moment, you calmed down, only for your face to be soaked in tears and smudged across your skin. "I wish you had told me everything you felt instead of leaving me to my own thoughts and suspicions. My heart was bleeding and it never stopped." 
"I'm...I'm sorry. I know you don't want-" 
"It's fine." You interject and clear your throat. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to dump all this on you and make you feel bad. It wasn't to make you try and fix things by being with me out of pity. I've realized that I was stuck in our history, in love with the you from the past. The man you are today isn't the same person... I don't even know who you are anymore." 
The Oni in front of you had parted his lips, but the words wouldn't leave his tongue. Fangs poked out, glinting in the moonlight before he finally closed his mouth and swallowed strenuously. 
Gingerly, he stepped forward and stopped right in front of your body. His large hands reached down, taking your gloved ones in his and squeezing. For a second, you let yourself immerse in the warmth of his inhumanity before pulling away and pushing his arms back towards himself. 
"I had told you to maintain your distance because I could not handle being around you. Now I realize what we need to have: boundaries." Softly patting his hands, you urge him to let them drop by his side. "You cannot treat me like the (Y/n) from before. You cannot compliment me or praise me, or suck up to get what you want. You can't just walk around my place half-naked. In fact, you can't be here anymore while I work on myself. We are not friends; we can't be friends, at least right now... Can you do that?" 
With a solemn nod, the Oni stepped back and shifted to leave the room, yet stopped midway through. His shoulders turned as he looked back to face you and spoke in a hushed voice that you almost missed. 
"Will you at least let me do one more thing?" 
You didn't expect him to ask such a question, so you sat silenced and stunned, your drunk brain buzzing with the remnants of a hangover peeking through. "S-Sure." 
With your approval, Kohaku steps back to stand in front. He's in your bubble, invading it as his hands rise and softly hold the sides of your head. Then he dips down, letting his lips press against your forehead with a fleeting kiss that still lingered when he pulled away. 
"Being with you was an unimaginable experience that I could never forget. You are amazing, just an incredible person. There is no one like you in this world, small town or big city." His voice is soft, precious as he speaks by your ear. "Take all the time you need, (Y/n). I can wait for the day until we can be friends again. Even if I have to wait a hundred years." 
You cannot stop the burning hot tears from expelling past your lids and trading down your neck. The insides of your chest aches; it stings and tightens in your heart as though Kohaku reached forward and tore his way through. 
"I love you."
"I love you too."
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And I, oop, I wrote this in three days. It took longer than I expected because I didn't know where I was going with the idea. This also turned out longer and broken into 2 chapters bc as you know, I love writing realism. I want to showcase real emotions and it just wouldn't make sense for Kohaku to get with the reader at the end of this chapter when the whole time he didn't even share those feelings. 
Of course, my heart is hurting bc DAYYUMM, I could never. Reader is better than me. I'd really be way too petty and once I feel wronged, you'll never be in my good gracious ever again.
Anyway, I wanted to try something new and write a love interest that isn't hopeless in love with the reader (*cough* Zagan *cough*). It just hurts so good, the angst rn. The next part is supposed to have a lot of character development and growth + as you know me, we get a little more gang affiliation bc I love bad boys. 
Also Simat is a W and she will go off in the next chapter bc whoever hurts 'mommy' reader will get their throat torn out.
Might kill the reader, idk yet, still jotting it down.
Ps.
I just want to apologize also for being gone for so long without a single chapter update in like 6 months. I had completely lost all motivation after my wattpad, which I spent NINE years curating, was deleted in one night over nothing. It literally felt like all my hard work and recognition was just stolen and left me with nothing.
Of course, I have my quotev and Tumblr, which I am thankful for. Wattpad just had the most engagement and following, and it was easier to communicate with me. I just want so many people to read what I can do and enjoy the creativity of my storytelling. 
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↳If you'd like to support me or read 30+ drafts of TDMLM or my other stories, please consider buying me Kofi. You can find the link on my profile or here! Thank you :) 
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ᴍᴀᴍᴀ ꜱɪɢɴɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ
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Little something from my drafts since im too packed with school work to write something cool <\3
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You met Katsukis parents before, of course you did. They invite you to dinner all the time. And at first, Katsuki didnt mind, hell, he loved that his parents like you and invite you over! But now? He hates it. You're probably wondering why? It's nothing you did, dont worry. Its beacuse of that stupid book his mom made a few years back. He knew that she still had this book, but he never thought she would show every single page to you. He almost died when he came back from the bathroom to see you and his mother looking at all the embarrassing photos and stories from "Katsuki memory"
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Now he needs to live knowing you saw little him in his hero pajamas, little him holding hands with 'stupid Deku', all his primary school photos... He almost cried when he realised you saw all this.
"Oh Tsuki! I forgot to tell you! Your mom invited us to dinner again!"
Fucking hell.
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luvrodite · 2 days
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RO'S KINKTOBER 2024
welcome to my second kinktober event!!! last year was so much fun and i hope you enjoy this one even more!!
warnings. please mind the individual warnings on each fic and bear in mind that you are responsible for your own media consumption. if you don’t like something, don’t read it! if you feel as though something is missing a tag, please let me know!
happy reading!
ⓘ minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact, you will be blocked!
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ᯓ★ ONE. OCTOBER 1 | FUCK OR DIE
GOT ME CALLING OUT FOR HELP (S-O-S)
in retrospect, it was only a matter of time before you got hit. you should consider yourself lucky — there are worse fates than being fucked like your life depends on it. (it’s gotham. of course it does) or: you get hit and jason deals with the fallout
content warnings. f!reader, dubious consent due to intoxication, chemical aphrodisiac, established relationship, dry humping, penetrative text, begging, unprotected sex, creampie. more tags to come
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ᯓ★ TWO. OCTOBER 5 | COCKWARMING
SIT STILL, LOOK PRETTY
jason doesn’t know what’s come over you, but he’s going to finish this chapter. then, if you’re good – and only then, he’ll make you cum.
content warnings. f!reader, established relationship, dominant jason. more tags to come
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ᯓ★ THREE. OCTOBER 12 | MASK KINK
HUNT YOU DOWN, EAT YOU ALIVE
"did no one ever tell you not to walk around at night by yourself? it’s not safe around these parts." the only problem with his warning is – he looks like the not safe in question.
content warnings. f!reader, established relationship, predator/prey scene, public sex. more tags to come
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ᯓ★ FOUR. OCTOBER 19 | INFIDELITY
SAY YOU GOT SOMEBODY, I'LL SAY, 'I GOT SOMEONE TOO'
he's patient. he knows how to play the long game, he's done it before. a new boyfriend is a hitch. that's all it is. he's always been a good problem solver.
content warnings. f!reader, cheating, obsessive jason todd. more tags to come
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ᯓ★ FIVE. OCTOBER 26 | VIBRATOR
WHAT'S UP, BULLET?
in retrospect, it had been wishful thinking for you to hope your boyfriend wouldn't find out about the toy you kept hidden in a box beneath your bed. you just hadn't expected this reaction.
content warnings. f!reader, use of vibrator, minor overstim, cunnilingus, fingering. more tags to come
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ᯓ★ OCTOBER 31 | SUCCUBUS
EXORCISM...
jason knows a thing or two about bad dreams, but the pretty thing that's been haunting his nights couldn't possibly be so bad, right?
...SEE YOU IN YOUR DREAMS!
content warnings. f!reader, dubious consent, monsterfucking, succubus reader. more tags to come
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ⓘ a reminder that you alone are responsible for your media consumption. if you don’t like something, don’t read it!
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fireya-x · 19 hours
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floral misdelivery
AO3 Link (full tag list) || masterlist
Overwhelmed by the task of gifting his mother flowers, John makes a mistake that turns into a chance to show you, his assistant, what you really mean to him.
[2k words]
cw: none
John Price hated staying late at night at his office, but his work was always unpredictable. He was sitting hunched over his desk, hitting keys on your laptop. It was almost as if you were with him in spirit, the digital ghost of your organized world reminding him of your meticulous efficiency. He couldn’t help but smile, noticing the photo you chose as a wallpaper, a group photo of the 141, that you insisted on taking to commemorate the success of your last mission. In it, you were standing next to Price, who had one arm around your shoulder, as you both grinned at the camera. You looked happy, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something about you was different when you were around him. You seemed more relaxed, more lively. It was something that kept him calm during even the most stressful times.
Notifications would constantly pop up on your device, supposed to remind you about everything the 141 had to do - reminding John about the tremendous help you provided for them and Kate Laswell. Sometimes he wondered if they put too much work on you, with everything going on, but you never complained when asked about it. Quite the opposite, you would tell John that you loved doing everything you could to just take some work off of their shoulders. 
He admired that about you. Looking for an assistant was something he had reluctantly done, because of all the sensitive information being passed around — but he had grown to being able to trust you with his life, like he did with every member of his team. You proved to be loyal, sometimes too much so. Calls at three in the morning made John feel awful, especially. But you picked up the phone nonetheless, sounding ready for whatever was thrown at you. Even if it was just digging through some files for a report that had to be done in the morning.
John Price's gruff exterior, the one that made him the leader he was, often masked a heart full of gratitude. There were many nights when the weight of his decisions, the burden of leadership, and the relentless fight against shadows made him feel utterly alone. Yet, you were always there, not just as his assistant but as a constant, calming presence. There was a warmth, a comfort he found in your competence, a feeling that whatever storm they were facing, you had their back.
He was pulled from his thoughts as a particular notification caught his eye. And he froze. “Mrs Price's birthday!” was set as a reminder for the next day.
Of course. His mother's birthday also had a calendar entry on his assistant’s laptop. He huffed, then took a deep inhale of his cigar. Did you ever have time for yourself? He mentally made a note to give you time off when this next mission was done.
He sighed. His feelings were uneasy. He’d probably let his mum down again, like the countless birthdays he had missed because he had been busy somewhere fighting. He always made a promise to make it up to her, but still, guilt gnawed at him every time. 
He contemplated his options. Visiting her as soon as he had the time was something he would do, no questions asked. Take her for a nice dinner, even.
But for the special day, he needed something to surprise her. Flowers, chocolates, maybe something expensive? Maybe he could get you to take care of it, you were better at these things anyway.
No. It was his mum. He couldn’t just brush it off.
Desperate to find anything, he looked online for his options. He wasn’t tech-savvy as you were, all he did was write reports, but he somehow managed to find a local florist that shipped pretty flower bouquets. He had no idea about these things. Flowers had to look pretty and make his mother happy, that was the bare minimum.
He ended up ordering what looked like a very opulent bouquet that he could imagine on his mother's dining table, colours fitting and all. It was all that was in his expertise about these things. He tried to think of what his mother liked, but the best he could come up with were lilies, the same flowers he gave his mum every year. It was enough. He hoped. He knew she liked them, and it was his luck, because it was the single sort of flowers he could remember what they looked like.
He sighed and shut the laptop, deciding it was probably time to end the day.
The next morning, John sat at his desk, tapping away at the keyboard, trying to concentrate on the mission briefing in front of him. It just had been a few hours and the day already felt like a mess, his focus a complete disaster.
After several frustrating phone calls with Kate, multiple talks with the boys, he finally finished the report he’d been working on. John could barely get through a sentence without sighing. It was the quiet way he handled stress, a groan here and there and a nice cigar, whenever he was overloaded and unsure how to solve the situation.
Just when he started contemplating sneaking out for some peace and quiet, a smile broke across his face. There you were, strolling through his office door, a coffee mug in each hand.
You always seemed to know when he was about to hit that point of utter exhaustion, the point when he needed that extra boost of energy. You were a master at knowing his needs before he even knew them.
“Didn’t know we were married, Cap.” You entered the office and your grin hit him like a bullet. He couldn't help but notice the way your hair, normally pulled back in a neat ponytail, was now falling loose around your shoulders, making your face look even softer. He noticed how your smile lingered a little longer when your eyes met his.
“Married?” He looked as if he’d been told the most shocking news of his life. He had expected a greeting, but not this sort. It made you giggle, as you walked to his desk to set the mug down. It struck him then - he hadn't ever really looked at you that way before. Was he starting to get feelings he wasn't sure how to handle? He shook it off.
“Thanks for the flowers, John. Though, I prefer hydrangeas to lilies.” The playful tone in your voice made him wonder if you knew how much he loved it when you called him by his name. It always felt a little more intimate than just “Cap.”
He shook his head, as if trying to wake up from a dream, taking the mug to take a sip from the freshly brewed liquid. “Flowers? What do you mean? And I'm certainly not married.”
“Then maybe I need to spend less time in our office because someone certainly thinks I’m your wife.” Your eyes sparkled with a teasing glint, and he felt a warmth bloom in his chest, as if the caffeine you poured had an extra kick. He hoped his blush wasn't showing, but with your piercing eyes, there was little hope of concealing anything from you.
“I'm sorry, love, but I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about.” He looked to his papers, then back to you, blinking slowly.
“Flowers delivered to my doorstep with just a tag on them that says ‘Mrs Price’?” You raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.
The image of you as his wife flashed through his mind, vivid and surprisingly alluring. He quickly shook it off as well, his cheeks turning pink, the colour matching those very lilies he’d chosen for his mother.
He could slap himself. Exhausted, he’d clicked through the ordering process without checking the address. All he’d managed to do was type in his credit card information, and he thought he was done. You were holding back laughter, and he knew he’d blown it completely. He hated feeling foolish, but seeing how it made your eyes crinkle in amusement despite his stupidity, made the embarrassment almost endearing.
You recognized the look on his face and sighed, putting your hands on your hips. “Don’t tell me those are for your mum, and you just let the autofill handle the address?”
You knew him too well sometimes, it was scary. No wonder you thought someone might have assumed you were actually married.
“I might have.” He murmured. He felt like such a rookie next to you when it came to the simplest things.
Your heart threatened to melt at the way he looked at you just then. He was usually so cool, so in control, but when he was around you, he felt vulnerable. And it was the most captivating thing about him.
You sighed. “Give me your mum’s address, I’ll drop them off for you and get a nice birthday card on the way as well.”
He looked at you, seemingly shocked. “You’d do that?”
“Of course. I’m your assistant, in case you forgot.” You smiled, the teasing glint in your eyes now replaced with genuine affection. Maybe it would be crazy to admit, but you secretly loved taking care of him. Being able to help when everything felt overwhelming. It made you feel valued.
“Yeah, with missions. Not with my private life.” He grunted, pointing to the countless files you neatly organized on his desk.
You had none of that. “You take your phone and call your mum to wish her a happy birthday, I’ll take care of the flowers. I know you’re busy, so let me help.” You'd rather have it right than have John worry about this any more than he already did. You knew how much he valued his relationship with his mother, and how much he regretted he couldn’t see her sometimes because of work. You had seen the quiet sadness in his eyes whenever they spoke on the phone, and felt a pang in your heart. The last thing he needed was the added stress of failing to properly congratulate her on her birthday.
He nodded, offering you a smile. “Thank you. I’d be lost without you in so many ways.”
The confession caught you off guard. It wasn't the first time he'd expressed his reliance on you, but this time, it felt different. He’d looked directly into your eyes when he said it, holding your gaze for a moment longer than usual. A warmth spread through you, a familiar flutter in your stomach. You hoped it wasn't too obvious, the way you were practically glowing under his intensity. You wanted to say something witty, playful, but instead, you nodded, appreciating his honesty. “That’s nice of you to say.”
As the day wore on, John continued to work diligently, his eyes flickering towards you on the background photo way too often. He didn't want you to know he was thinking about it, because it made him nervous. He didn’t exactly know what he felt for you. He hadn't experienced something like this in a very long time. It made him a bit afraid of what this new sensation meant for him, but certainly he knew he didn’t want to run from it. With a sigh, he opened the internet browser. He wanted to make it up to you for all you did that day.
After delivering the flowers and having a nice chat with John’s mother, who had been very understanding about her son’s work load, you returned to your flat. You turned on the lights and walked into the hallway. There, propped up against the door, was the most exquisite bouquet you had ever seen in your life.
You rolled your eyes, expecting another failed delivery, mentally cursing John for repeating the same mistake. But as you carefully removed the paper, your breath caught in your throat. 
It was hydrangeas.
And when you turned the tag over, your heart melted. “To: Not Mrs Price, but the best assistant someone could ask for. Dinner tomorrow, 7 pm, my place.  John.” 
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ak319 · 3 days
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Weird Yan Cousin x reader (Platonic)
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//Warnings: Mentions of prostitution, human trafficking, kidnapping, weird behaviour but not incest, gore)
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Your life had taken such a twisted turn for the worse this year, leaving you wondering if you were cursed. First, your parents died tragically in a fire that destroyed their home. Then, you found out your partner had been unfaithful. Since you shared an apartment, you had to move out, but they stayed, and the two of you were still arguing about selling it to split the money.
As if that wasn’t enough, you lost your job just three days after the breakup--allegedly for poor performance, which was completely untrue. None of this was your fault, yet everything seemed to be spiralling out of control. You were teetering on the edge when you received a strange phone call.
It was from someone claiming to be a distant cousin, Nova Salem. The name struck a chord--she was from your father’s side, the daughter of your uncle Ralph. But you had never met her or any of that side of the family. Your father had severed ties with them long ago. Ralph was only his half-brother, born from your second grandfather, Edmund Salem, whom you’d also never met.
Her sudden call made you feel uneasy, but you were desperate for help, and she offered it without hesitation. Pushing aside all the questions swirling in your mind--about your family dynamics, her abrupt contact, and the series of unfortunate events that felt like a row of dominoes crashing--you packed your bag. The next day, Nova's chauffeuse, Robyn, picked you up from your friend's place.
Robyn was an odd one, giving you mostly one-word, cryptic answers to anything you asked. What really threw you, though, was the route she took. You’d assumed Nova lived somewhere in the city, but Robyn just kept driving... and driving.
Now, here you were, standing in front of a massive estate in the middle of nowhere. You nearly jumped out of your skin when Robyn suddenly spoke from behind you.
"Let's get you inside, ma'am." Robyn's voice cut through the eerie silence as you gripped the strap of your bag, letting out a nervous chuckle. "Um, are you sure this is--"
"Yes, it's the Salem estate."
You glanced around, trying to keep your nerves in check. It could easily pass as a horror movie set, noting the distant tree line, the stormy skies, and the endless dirt road behind. Was this even the right choice? Panic started to creep in. What if she's not my cousin and just stalked my family tree to lure me here?! I am so stupid!
"Welcome, cousin."
Your eyes snapped forward to see a tall figure standing in the entrance, finally registering. Nova, no doubt. She stood taller than you, with short, thick black hair neatly styled, wearing a black turtleneck beneath a long cloak-like robe, paired with black pants...and bare feet?
Before you could even react, she closed the distance and pulled you into a tight hug, muffling your greeting and leaving you a bit breathless from the unexpected embrace.
"I can't believe you're finally here! You see this, Robyn?!" Nova exclaimed, her large hand gripping your head and shaking it playfully. "My little sister is here at last!"
Robyn merely nodded and silently took your other suitcase inside, leaving just the two of you.
"S-sister?" you stammered, taken aback. Her eyes gleamed even brighter, if that was possible, the intensity in her gaze at odds with her composed appearance.
"Indeed, my soror," she affirmed, her hands now firmly grasping your shoulders. "I never got the chance to feel the love of siblings, and with all the family drama and stuff, I was always left out. I never had the chance to have any real connection with family. You’re the only cousin I have."
Her words tugged at your heart, though you couldn’t shake the underlying suspicion.
"No other cousins at all?" you asked, cautiously.
"Nope. My mother was an only child. Anyway, let's get you inside." Nova kept her hold on you, gently steering you toward the entrance. Just before stepping in, she paused, making sure you took off your shoes in the porch. "Enter humbly," she said with a strange conviction. "We are born of the earth, and to the earth, we will return. It’s only right that we honour our origin, for soil should never fear soil."
What? The statement left you puzzled, but you decided to go along with it, stepping inside the dimly lit hallway.
Candles? Really?
"Um, why are the lights off?" you asked, your voice slightly shaky.
"Electricity? Oh, I forgot--you’re a city girl," Nova replied, her tone almost teasing. "I'll ask Robyn to have the switch on for your room--the fan, the lights---but the rest of the house operates without it."
"Why, though? In this day and age? Like, nothing at all?"
Instead of answering, she simply let out a low, eerie chuckle, leaving your nervous laugh hanging awkwardly in the heavy air.
"Let me show you your room." Nova's voice echoed down the dimly lit corridor, where candle flames flickered against the walls, casting long, dancing shadows. The mansion’s interior had an unmistakably gothic feel, with dark wood panelling, high arched ceilings and classic, aged furnishings. The air was thick with an old-world charm as if you had stepped into a place frozen in time. The paintings on the walls, though faded with age, exuded an eerie beauty, depicting somber figures mostly of a woman--always the same portrait of her--and forgotten landscapes
You stepped inside the room, expecting more of the same gloomy charm, only to freeze in disbelief.
What the hell is going on?
"Why is it… all… pink?" you asked, blinking at the sight before you. The walls were plastered with Barbie stickers that looked as vintage as the rest of the house. The bed was oversized and covered in frilly pink bedding, surrounded by plush toys that had seen better days.
"Isn't this what girls love?" Nova said with a wide, innocent smile. "Like little sisters?"
You spun around, trying to process everything. "Hold up. I just met you for the first time ever, so can you please stop calling me your little sister? We're cousins and barely even know each other." Your voice rose as you gestured at the pink explosion around you. "Also, do you think I’m 12?!" The moment the words left your mouth, you felt a pang of regret. Nova’s smile faded, and she looked taken aback. Guilt set in as you realized how harshly you had reacted. She had offered you a place to stay during a rough time. Maybe you could have been more understanding and patient, especially considering she provided you with a bed and a roof over your head.
"Oh my God..." For Nova, that was the most adorable thing she had ever witnessed.
"Um... I--"
"ROBYN! ROBYN!" Nova’s voice cut through the air, making you back away nervously. Her gaze remained fixed on you as she continued to shout.
"Yes, ma'am? How may I assist you?"
"(Y/n)..." Nova grabbed Robyn by the collar, shaking her with surprising force. "My sister--sorry, soon-to-be sister--just had her first tantrum! All thanks to you, Robyn, you absolute genius!"
What in the world--is she being excited or just passive-aggressive? You couldn’t tell.
"It’s okay! I mean, I like it... It’s good."
"You do? You don’t want another room?"
"Um, if... it’s available th--"
"No, it isn’t."
"...this is it then... I guess."
"Robyn, get the food ready. My cousin needs her evening nourishment."
"Aye."
They left you standing in the room, utterly dumbfounded. Everything about this day--and about her--was making you feel dizzy. The way she carries herself, the way she speaks--it’s all becoming a blur. Something in your heart warns that this is going to be a nightmare.
But at least you’re not in some serial killer’s clutches, as you feared before entering. Being an only child and living in such a large mansion might have messed with her mental health, but you hoped it hadn’t gotten worse than this.
The sudden flicker of the lights jolted you from your thoughts, making your soul feel like it had left your body. The room’s colour was now painfully vivid, almost too much to bear. Honestly, the dim glow of the candles was easier on the eyes.
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You soon found yourself dining with Nova in the grand dining hall, the two of you beginning to learn about each other. Mostly, you listened to her recounting her adventures. It was impressive how many languages she knew and the places she had visited, though she seemed completely oblivious to modern slang and anything related to media, which you found a bit amusing.
"Anthropologist, huh? Isn't it boring?"
"Boring?" She cackled, her laughter echoing through the vast room. "Absolutely not! I get to travel, explore, and find fascinating things." Judging by the eclectic items scattered around the room, she was certainly telling the truth.
"You seem to have a fondness for skulls."
"Oh! Haha! Aren't they so symbolic in their own way? They are empty, yet their hollow eyes seem to gaze into the essence of mortality itself. Each one holds the silent echoes of a life once lived, a reminder of our own fleeting existence and the stories that we leave behind."
"Are they real?"
"I leave that to the admirer to decide. What do you think?"
"Fake or maybe both, judging by how much you’ve explored."
"You think I’d bring skulls from my adventures?"
"Umm..."
Her laugh interrupted you again. "You’re so naive, (Y/N)."
Just as I suspected.
"Anyway, what about your love life?"
"I don't feel attracted to the idea of being subjected to bodily fluids, particularly in moments of passion. " You felt your appetite slip away.
That’s a rather...unique way to say you’re asexual and single...?
"Cool. But doesn’t it get lonely here?"
"Loneliness isn’t something I mind. Besides, I’m not alone--I have Robyn and now you. A little-"
"Cousin."
"Indeed, a little cousin." You picked up your phone and then realized something. "Oh, I need the Wi-Fi password."
"Sorry, but that might not be possible."
"What?! Don’t tell me you don’t use Wi-Fi! That’s atrocious."
"You see, this technology that the youth have become so attached to has many malevolent effects. I cannot let you be subjected to that."
"What do you mean?! I need to find a job! And how do you do your own work?" Her calm demeanour remained unshaken as Robyn appeared behind you, slamming a newspaper down in front of you. The suddenness startled you. What is it with these people and their jump scares?
"This is today’s paper and your source for finding work."
"Are you kidding me? I need Wi-Fi for my job. I do half of my work online!"
"I’ll need to observe the signs this week. If they are favorable, you might get access. Farewell, cousin. Have a good sleep. Robyn, please escort her to her chambers." You clenched your jaw as she walked away. "WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! WHAT SIGNS?! SO YOU DO HAVE WI-FI?!"
God, what is going on? Is this a fever dream?
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You were absolutely enraged in the following days. Apparently, the signs were negative, which meant you were stuck with no FUCKING Wi-Fi!
"Maybe the signs will be positive next month."
Whatever that means. In the meantime, you faced a series of bizarre occurrences that only deepened the unsettling feeling about your stay here and made you question reality. Despite her insistence on not using electricity, the candles lit themselves as if by some hidden mechanism. You were certain she used Wi-Fi--how else would she manage her research and extensive travels?
Her behavior was equally bewildering. She walked barefoot, even in the muddy grass outside during the rain, and would spend hours out there.
Some events left you sleepless for nights.
You once saw her talking to a pillar in the lawn from your bedroom window at night. At first, you thought she might be on a call, but no. She was facing the pillar the entire time. And then there was the incident where she literally smelled your... period.
"Eat this," she said, offering you a bowl of literal pickles. You swatted it away.
"What the fuck, dude?!"
"It’s to relieve menstrual pains. Although not scientifically proven, it is a good remedy."
"I’m fine. AND HOW THE FUCK DID YOU DO IT AGAIN?!"
"Just a matter of having good senses."
In the evenings, she always visited you for tea, bringing her two black hounds along. Despite your protests, she continued to bring them inside. You hated how they always seemed to sniff under the bed, her dark, void-like eyes trained on them as if she wanted them to find something.
Wouldn't want her cousin hiding something, would she? Perhaps thinking she could slip away, unnoticed, back to her old life?
Due to the lack of Wi-Fi, you spent most of your time reading books and exploring the mansion, trying out the strange array of activities Nova had set up for you. She instructed Robyn to teach you various skills like shooting, wrestling, and knife throwing....? You enjoyed it though but yes, you were shocked to discover that Robyn wasn’t just a driver, chef, or butler but seemed to be some sort of retired hitwoman. She never confirmed nor spoke about herself, adding to the mystery.
Despite the chaos and strangeness, you found yourself adapting to this bizarre new routine, almost treating it like a vacation and unexpectedly lifting you out of your depression.
You tried finding jobs but with no success. Every time you found a promising ad, something mysteriously went wrong with the car. It always seemed to break down, as if on cue. The phone in the estate barely worked, with your friend's voice garbled into unintelligible fragments or the call cutting off entirely before you could get a full sentence in. It was as if the house itself refused to let any connection to the outside world slip through.
One day, you had had enough of watching Nova work on her COMPUTER in her study while you languished in boredom.
"Look, I appreciate your hospitality, but it seems I’ve actually found a job, and it's time for me to-"
"You haven’t," Nova said, her voice smooth but chilling as she stepped closer, her face half-hidden in the shadows. "Don’t lie. I despise liars."
"Nova, I’ve had enough of this. I’m sorry, but living here is overwhelming with all the bizarre restrictions, the eerie silence, and the lack of contact with anyone! I can’t stay here. I need to go out and find a job! I didn’t come here to live permanently."
"And you think you have a say in that, cousin?"
"Wha-" Before you could finish, a cloth soaked in a strong, suffocating chemical was pressed against your face. The world around you blurred and faded as you struggled to breathe, slipping into unconsciousness.
"You are not going anywhere, Duif." (dove, in Dutch)
You woke up to the unsettling sound of floorboards creaking and the ominous clinking of metal against metal. Your body felt unnervingly cold, and you soon realized you were bound to a chair with ropes.
"Awake, (Y/N)?" Nova's voice, as smooth and chilling as velvet, made your blood run cold. You shivered uncontrollably as you saw her standing a few feet away. Robyn was in another corner, methodically sharpening a row of gleaming knives.
God, no. This can't be happening...
"Please... Nova, what is happening?! THIS ISN'T FUNNY! Please!" You didn’t care that you were pleading and sobbing in front of this lunatic. Fear clutched at your heart, twisting it painfully. You regretted everything that had led you to this point. You’d already lost your parents, your partner, your job--was your life now slipping through your fingers as well?
"Shush. Don't be scared. I just want you to listen to me. And carefully." Nova said as she grabbed a stool and sat in front of you. Where are we even? Is this some hidden room? Your eyes darted around frantically, taking in the grim surroundings, chains hanging from the bloody walls, a nailed coffin standing ominously in the corner, a table cluttered with various torture tools that Robyn stood beside, and, bizarrely, a fucking jacuzzi in the corner.
"Listen, it's time I tell you the things you need to know. About me, this family and even yours. You see (Y/N), my father, Ralph Salem, he wasn't a good man. He was involved in all types of bad things. Especially regarding...women. I was a teen when I found out he was involved in trafficking girls, the reason he fucked around with lots of women and... young girls, simultaneously abusing my mother mentally and physically. When he caught her leaving with me, he killed her... in front of me. Imagine that, I couldn't do anything." She paused with a dry scoff, "You have seen that pillar right? The devil buried her under it. I couldn't stand it. I wanted to die but he kept me alive because I was his heir, with his fucking disgusting blood inside of me. So I waited, I became the perfect heir for him only so that I could kill him in the most brutal way...which I did," You whimpered at her dark chuckle as she wiped your tears.
"Do you know where you come in?" Nova's voice was icy as she continued. "I began researching you the moment I discovered your existence. I wanted some form of familial love, even after I convinced myself I didn’t need anyone." Abruptly, she rose and moved to Robyn, taking a freshly sharpened knife from her hands.
"Guess what I found? Your parents were my father's business partners at one point. You see these skeletons here?" She gestured to the grim collection. "These are the people I hunt, (Y/N)--the ones my father worked with, those entangled in this... industry. And I continue hunting them. So I did to your parents what I did to all of them. Robyn, show her."
The butler pulled a lever, causing a hidden closet to open. Inside, the bodies of your parents were revealed--half burned, half slashed, with their limbs gone, only torsos-making you scream in horror.
"The bodies at the crime scene weren’t theirs. I used my connections to save them for you--along with another surprise," Nova said, her voice dripping with cold satisfaction as she slid the door open further. There, your partner’s corpse was revealed, grotesquely nailed to the wall like a butterfly, their chest open and hollow, blood eagle...which Nova once told you about. Without warning, you threw up to the side, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You could barely breathe, each gulp of air shallow and shaky, and you felt the world closing in. Please just let this be a nightmare. Wake up (Y/n), wake up!
"Did I mention that I eliminate bad partners too? How could I let them live after what they did to my dear...cousin?" She stepped closer, the knife gleaming in her hand. You shook your head desperately, unable to form coherent words. With a swift motion, she cut the ropes binding you, forcing you to stand. Her gaze was fierce, unyielding.
"You, however , were innocent, unaware of your parent's past. So from now on, you are a Salem. You will live here, as you are meant to." Her gaze darkened. "This is your place, your family. And I won’t have you trying to run away."
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You slammed the trunk door shut and turned to Nova, who was meticulously removing her gloves.
"He was quite the noisy one," she remarked with a nod. "Indeed, sestra. Though you did a commendable job tracking him, little nerd. Now, let’s head back. My favourite part awaits in the mansion."
Ah, yes, it was Wednesday--skinning day.
From a software engineer to an assistant to a serial killer cousin with an intriguing butler, you found yourself strangely enthralled by this new life.
‘I want this world to be rid of those like my father, who mirror him in even the slightest way, together with you, my dear cousin.’
(AN: I realised that Nova might have put her own childhood plushies in the reader's room, which tugs my heart😭my baby)
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multific · 13 hours
Text
Two Pieces of a Puzzle
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Simon "Ghost Riley x Reader
Summary: You are sent on a mission with the infamous LT, but you might have just as many talents as he does, if not more.
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When you found yourself on a mission with a military man, Lieutenant Ghost, you knew you were in for a treat. 
He was a tall, rugged man with an attitude and a sharp wit that kept you on your toes. 
As you set out on your mission, you were quick to realize that you were in for an adventure unlike any other.
The Lieutenant was a seasoned soldier, and his experience showed in every move he made. 
He led you with precision and confidence, never hesitating to make tough decisions or take risks when necessary. 
You found yourself in awe of his leadership skills and his ability to think quickly on his feet.
He was impressive, you weren't going to lie about that.
As you navigated through the treacherous terrain of the dense forest and faced unexpected challenges, Ghost remained calm and collected, always finding a way to overcome whatever obstacles stood in your way.
A rescue mission.
The children and wife of an important politician were kidnapped and you received intel that they were in a hidden house in the middle of a dense forest up in the mountains. 
Of course, your way to the forest was an entire mission on it's own, but you heard the tales of the infamous Ghost.
His determination was infectious, and you found yourself pushing harder and digging deeper than you ever thought possible.
Every second you spent with him, you felt your movements sharpen.
It was inspirational.
But it wasn't just Ghost's military prowess that impressed you. 
On no.
The mystery. 
The secrets he held inside himself.
The mask.
That damned mask.
He also had a wicked sense of humour that kept your spirits high even in the darkest of moments. His jokes and witty remarks never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when the situation seemed dire. 
His jokes, even if they were tired and mostly military-related, did help your mood a lot. 
Despite the dangers you faced and the odds stacked against you, Ghost never wavered in his commitment to completing the mission. 
His unwavering dedication inspired me to do the same, and together we forged ahead, determined to succeed no matter what.
You got to the house, just the two of you, hiding behind trees as you assessed the situation.
"You take the back door, I take the front." he said.
"With all due respect, Sir, I believe Captain was clear, you get me here, I get in and them out. I'm called Shadow for a reason." you smirked and put your gun down.
Your time to shine.
You were a specialist in kidnapping and hostage situations. They always got you as you were quiet on your feet and you always got to the point fast. 
You always rescued the person or people and no one ever saw you coming.
In the end, your mission was a success.
As always.
The happy family was back together as you and Ghost walked back into base.
"That was impressive." you heard him say.
"Thank you, Sir. I do live to impress." you said with a smile.
As you celebrated our victory, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to work alongside such a remarkable man. 
And as you parted ways, you knew that you would always carry with you the lessons from your time together on that unforgettable mission.
Or so you thought.
You would say you were tipsy, others would call it drunk.
Ghost called it sexy.
You loved to see how his scary mask fell from his face. How his walls crumbled as you climbed into his lap and kissed him.
It was dark in the alley you followed him for a smoke.
He sat down on the steps and you followed suit.
"How did you do that? How did you get in and out without anyone seeing you?"
"The same way you got us through that block on the road or how you made me crawl on my stomach under a car so they wouldn't see us enter the woods. Skills, Sir. Years of training and skill."
It might have been your fault that you leaned in too close.
It might have been him when he looked at your lips. You weren't sure. But you were sure about one thing.
The way he kissed you spoke volumes.
He was touch starved and scared at the same time. 
But you did like the thrill of it.
And also because you were the same.
You two fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. 
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Taglist: 
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 
@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum
@asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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pipsqueaks89934 · 21 hours
Text
Yandere Merman x Marine biologist
Warnings: mention of having kids, kidnapping, broken bones, chubby reader
(it's not mentioned but his name is Wade)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was splashing around in the water as I observed the fish in an odd way I took the glass dry and I had to collect water samples and trap the guppy inside, but once I closed the lid, I felt something big tackle me making me black out. When I woke up I was in a cave with the only way out being to swim underwater.
How did I get here?
“What were you doing in my territory?” I heard someone ask from a part of the cave I hadn't seen before.
“I’m so sorry, I didn't know, I promise I won't do it again!” I said quickly while bowing my head.
“Good thing I'm nice,” he said while swimming closer to me. “You'll be my mate for the rest of your life.”
“I’m sorry?” I asked while moving further away from him.
“It's getting close to mating season and I need a mate and all the mermaids are either stuck up or ugly,” he explained as he grabbed my leg and pulled me to him. “But you’re cute and nice, not to mention chubby the perfect size to carry my offspring to ensure they're well nourished.”
“Children?” I asked while looking at him with fear.
“Yes,” he responded while tugging at my swimsuit. “But I can't give you my children with this fabric in the way.”
“Get away from me!” I said as I tried to kick him off me.
He ended up twisting my ankle until you could hear a crack, making me scream in pain.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be!” He said as he ripped off my swimsuit.
“S..stop…” I cried while looking at my broken ankle.
“You are acting like a kid!” he said to me before leaving the little cave.
What has my life come to? How am I supposed to escape?
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shakespearean-simp · 2 days
Text
reader at one of rockstar!mattheo's concerts, taking pics of him
from the VIP spot that mattheo gave reader bc he wanted to see reader during his concert
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weirdsht · 1 day
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(Un)Attainable - Alberu/Fem! Reader
notes: the og prompt for this was suppose to be super angsty, but I'm not so mean that I would make you guys cry the second I have the time to write. Also I notice a lot of people are using "Alver" now but I just can't, I'm so sorry huhu
tags: female reader, vague novel spoilers, forbidden love(?), lovesick Alberu if you squint
English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors
Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission
Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome
Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)
Buy Me Dessert
Navigation Masterlist
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Alberu’s first priority will always be the Roan Kingdom and its citizens. He will always put the welfare of his people before his own wants. Alberu is the type of crown prince who is willing to play as the villain just to see his citizens prosper. Even when no one will be able to appreciate his sacrifices. All for the sake of his selfish desire to see his people thrive.
That’s the simple fact the people around Alberu know.
They know that he has no time for love. No time to indulge in such things when he has a kingdom to run. Alberu Crossman has said so himself several times in the past.
But oh, what is this feeling blooming in the crown prince’s heart? Could they be feelings of romantic affection?
Could the prideful prince be eating his own words of not taking in a spouse in the future?
Maybe, or perhaps not.
He does know one thing though…
It’s the fact that he's charting into dangerous territory.
Not only was he dumb enough to fall in love. That wasn’t enough.
No no no
The quarter-dark elf was stupid enough to fall for the one person he couldn’t get.
Adin’s fiance, the soon-to-be crown princess of the Mogoru Empire. The empire of the Sun God Church. The one place where his chances of his dark elf bloodline being discovered is higher.
But can anyone blame him and his beating heart? How could he not fall when she’s so sweet, so ethereal?
So undeserving of that bastard Adin.
She was so good. So kind, so strong, so smart, so compassionate.
And Adin was… a scumbag, for a lack of a better word. Someone undeserving love.
Despite that, Adin was still her fiance. Adin and not Alberu.
“I’ve known him since we were kids. Our engagement had been decided from the moment the emperor found out I was a girl. They said I was the perfect wife for him. That I can strengthen the royal bloodline.”
She had confided one night. Her dignified yet soft voice had a tinge of longing in it. As if longing for the life she could’ve had outside of being Adin’s bethroed. 
“Your Highness [Name] has your time with Prince Adin made you grow some affection for him?”
Alberu hopes that the answer is no. That despite the headstart Adin had, [Name] hadn’t fallen for his charms.
That instead she’d fall for Alberu’s charms.
He’s the better choice. He could give her so much more than Adin could ever. Alberu will make sure that she will have the chance to showcase her talent to the world. He will make sure to treat her like the princess she is. This crown prince won’t treat her as if she’s a mere trophy whose sole job is to be bragged around.
[Name] was so much better than that.
She has wits that can help run a kingdom. She has the compassion for her citizens. The heart that screams and begs to aid her people. She has a strong persona that has so much more use than just being shown around to nobles.
Alberu Crossman can see that she’s worth more than Adin displayed her to be— no, in fact in Alberu’s eyes she’s worthless. No system of measurement can gauge her worth.
“No amount of time spent with Adin can make me grow affection for the man. Whether it’s platonic or romantic.”
The quarter-dark elf almost let his shoulders sag. He was so relieved that he nearly conveyed his true feelings. 
He has a chance– Alberu Crossman actually has a chance..!
Alberu was so happy that he nearly didn’t catch [Name]’s next words.
“That man is so awful, hence why no amount of time with him can make me tolerate him. But I’m sure you already know of such things. As a matter of fact, my trusted handmaiden is on her way to make negotiations with your dear commander.”
Roan Kingdom’s rising sun had to double-take, unsure if the words he was hearing were correct.
“I’m not as dumb as the world thinks of me.”
Alberu must have had a stupefied look on his face for the lovely lady in front of him to make such a comment.
“No, no my lady, that’s not what I meant. I am well aware of your wits and capabilities. It’s just that my commander and I had been ready to do everything in our power to turn you over to our side.”
To turn you over so that you’ll be in my arms instead– of course, Alberu said no such thing. Only letting such degenerative thoughts run through his mind.
“My lady is highly intelligent, highly perceptive. You are also close to Adin, you are a core player in taking such a man off his high horse.”
[Name] had an incredulous look on her face. Like Alberu was flattering her too much. However, he wasn’t. The poor prince had only been telling the truth.
“I didn’t think that the future king of the Roan Kingdom was one to… get brownie points.”
“You wound me, my fair lady. I was merely stating the truth. Nonetheless, since we’re on the topic… do you mind people who try to get brownie points?”
Alberu isn’t sure where he got the guts to be so coy. But he was glad he did because [Name]’s expression was better than he’d hoped for.
“Hmm well, I guess I don’t mind. If it’s from a silver-haired prince maybe I wouldn’t entertain it. Luckily, blonde seems to be my type… or was it brown?”
[Name] had a knowing look on her face and oh god can Alberu fall any deeper. He should be scared, should be nervous that another person seems to know his secret. But no, instead, he feels himself falling deeper in love.
“Don’t worry your highness your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t do my potential lover dirty like that.”
Yeah… safe to say that Alberu’s in too deep now.
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writingrock · 24 hours
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the tale of two lovers [4]
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pairing: barbarian! katsuki bakugou x reader (female) summary: a bard approaches a lone barbarian in search for a story to tell. Who could have known that the barbarian end up being such a romantic tale.
notes: fantasy au, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, bakusquad, barbarian bakugou, violence, mentions of spiritual creatures, mentions of discrimination
word count: 8.3k
part list
part one: chapter list
a/n: we're finally in the damn woods. this part took way longer than needed.
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Despite your frequent clashes with Bakugou, the bond within the group had deepened over time. Each of you had gradually adapted to the others' habits and idiosyncrasies. The journey started off rocky with Bakugou and you locking horns. But this leg of the journey had been surprisingly pleasant, filled with laughter and shared stories that knitted the group closer together. Sure, you and Bakugou bickered now and then, but it never escalated to anything more than heated words— at least, not yet. 
Now, as the group finally reached the last stretch before Niniel’s Veil, a sense of quiet anticipation settled over the camp. Tomorrow, you all would descend into the maddening forest. A place none of you could fully predict or prepare for. All of you are sitting by the campfire, the warmth of the flames cast flickering shadows on your faces. The night was calm, but you could feel the unmistakable worry around the group. Wrapping around each of you like the darkening forest surrounding the camp.
The group huddled close. Low chatter drifted through the night air, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or a solemn comment about the day ahead. The conversation circled around the forest that awaited them— the cursed thicket known as Niniel’s Veil.
Denki, absently poking at the fire with a stick, broke the silence. “So, anyone else feeling a bit uneasy about tomorrow?” His golden brown eyes focused on the fire, carrying an edge of nervousness.
“Tomorrow’s the big day,” Kirishima replied, his fingers fumbling with the fabric of his tunic. The idle movement showed a small part of his restlessness. He grabbed a stick and poked at the fire alongside Denki, sending a few sparks crackling into the night air. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But we’ve faced worse, right? We just need to stick together.” There was a mix of excitement and apprehension in his voice. 
Mina was sitting cross-legged next to you with a thoughtful expression. There’s a pause before she nodded in agreement. “They say the forest shifts and changes its paths. You can go in with a map and still get hopelessly lost. We’ll need to stay sharp.” She shuddered, remembering the tales she’s heard about the Veil.
Denki leaned back against a tree, casually tossing the stick he’d been using to stir the fire aside, letting it roll to a stop near the flames. He let out a heavy sigh as he verbally recounted the horror stories told about the thicket. “And the creatures that live there—supposedly, some of them are more dangerous than anything we’ve faced before.”
Sero grinned and added, “Well, if nothing else, it’ll be one hell of a story to tell. Assuming we make it out of there.” A part of you wondered how Sero could always be so pragmatic. He seemed to be the most relaxed in the group. Or was he simply hiding behind a calm exterior? You couldn’t really tell. 
You looked down at the flickering flames, their light reflecting in your eyes. “It’s not just about surviving,” you said, your tone more serious. “It’s about navigating a place that seems determined to trap us there. We need to be prepared for anything.”
Mina glanced over at you, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “You’ve been through Niniel’s Veil before. Got any advice for us?”
Advice? That wasn’t something you could offer lightly. You hesitated, the weight of your previous journey through the Veil lingering in your mind. After a moment, you spoke slowly, choosing your words carefully.
“Advice isn’t easy to give for a place like that,” you began, eyes flicking to the evening sky as if it might help you find the right way to explain. Squinting at the night sky, focusing on the stars for guidance. “But… Do you guys actually know the story behind Niniel’s Veil?” Slowly, you lowered your head and looked at the group, studying their expressions. 
They exchanged glances, a collective shrug rippling through the group. Denki leaned forward slightly, intrigued, while Kirishima scratched his head. Bakugou, arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. It seemed that the history of the Veil piqued his interest. Though, it wasn’t just him. One by one, they all shook their heads. You could tell everyone was at least slightly interested. 
“Nope,” Denki said, letting out a resigned sigh. “Can’t say I do.”
Kirishima chuckled nervously. “I’ve heard the horror stories, but not much else.”
Bakugou’s eyes looked at you. “I’m guessing it’s more than just some foggy forest, then.”
Mina leaned forward, clearly eager to hear more. “Alright, mapmaker. Lay it on us.”
You leaned forward slightly, the firelight casting shadows across your face as you began to explain. “Niniel’s Veil wasn’t always this mysterious, cursed place. A long time ago, it was home to a powerful elven kingdom. Hidden away deep in these enchanted woods, the elves used their magic to shield themselves from the outside world. But they were… Well, they were elves.” There was a trace of disdain in your voice as you delivered that last part, the words carrying more weight than intended.
The group’s attention was locked on you now, each of them watching as you continued.
“The elves of Niniel didn’t stay within their kingdom. They pillaged and colonised other lands, stealing relics and treasures from the places they conquered. They weren’t satisfied with just wealth— they wanted power. And the more they took, the more they craved. But they were greedy, and greed doesn’t go unchecked forever.”
You paused, glancing around the fire, letting the weight of the story sink in before continuing. “Eventually, their power was usurped. The lands they’d pillaged banded together, turning on the elves. Niniel’s kingdom crumbled. But the elves… they didn’t go quietly. In their final moments, they cursed the very forest they once called home. As revenge, they scattered the stolen relics throughout the woods, using powerful magic to ensure they would never be found or returned to their rightful places.”
Mina’s eyes widened as you spoke, while Denki shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the dark woods surrounding your camp. Even Sero straightened up, leaning in closer to listen to your tale.
“And the forest itself,” you said, your voice lowering slightly, “became part of that curse. The elves wove their magic into the land, warping it. Niniel’s Veil is designed to trap people— to lure them in, twist their sense of direction, and keep them lost. The trees shift, paths disappear, and you see things that aren’t real. It’s a labyrinth, alive with ancient magic, and it wants to keep anyone who dares to enter.”
The fire crackled softly, filling the brief silence that followed. 
“So, let me guess,” Kirishima spoke in a hushed tone. “Those relics are still out there?”
You nodded. “Yep. Hidden throughout the Veil. Some say finding them all could break the curse, but no one’s been able to gather them all. At least, no one who’s made it out.”
Kirishima let out a low whistle, leaning back as the weight of your words sank in. “So, we’re walking into a cursed maze with no guarantee of getting out, huh?”
“You’ve got me, that’s plenty of guarantee,” you said, your voice brimming with confidence as you glanced around the group. A small, reassuring smirk graces your lips. But deep down, you knew the danger that lay ahead.
Denki chuckled nervously, though the unease in his voice was hard to miss. “Yeah, I’m just going to cling to that optimism, because the alternative sounds pretty terrifying.”
Bakugou, who had been quiet up until now, crossed his arms and let out a questioning scoff. His brow raised at your confidence. “Talk’s cheap. You sure you’re up for this?”
You met his stare without hesitation, your voice steady. “I’ve made it through it and mapped that forest. Trust me, I’m ready. The real question is— are you?”
His eyes peered down at you. Why do you keep challenging him? He wants to be mad but he’s amused. By now, he’s gotten used to you provoking him. There’s a faint smirk that threatens to surface, but he very quickly concealed it. “I’m always ready. Don’t slow me down.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Slowing you down? You’re more likely to charge ahead and get yourself lost.”
Kirishima laughed from his spot by the fire. “Yeah, maybe stick close this time. We can’t have you lost.”
Bakugou shot him a sharp look, snapping at his friend. “I’ll do what I need to. The Veil won’t stop me.” Kirishima chuckled at his words for he could see there’s no real anger behind that cutting gaze.
“You might want to rethink that,” you said, your tone turning serious. “Niniel’s Veil isn’t exactly forgiving. It’s not just about getting lost; the forest has a way of messing with your mind. It twists paths and shadows, plays tricks on you.”
Bakugou snorted as he leaned back against the rock. “Tch. I’ve faced worse.”
Sero raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Like what?”
“Like dealing with you guys,” Bakugou muttered, finally releasing the smirk he had been holding back.
You caught the exchange with a half-smile, the tension of the upcoming challenge momentarily eased by the banter. Despite the seriousness of the situation, there was a growing sense of unity within the group. Each member brought their own strengths and quirks to the table, and as you prepared for the forest that lay ahead, it was clear that this shared journey had already forged a deeper bond among you.
As the night deepened and the conversation drifted to lighter topics, you couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation. Tomorrow, the real adventure would begin. Despite the danger that awaited, there was a sense of resolve and readiness in the air.
You watched the fire crackle, the warmth against the chill of the evening offering a small comfort. “We’ll make it through,” you said, trying to inject a bit of confidence into your voice for the group. In truth, you knew how dangerous those woods were. It was hard to say for certain if it would be smooth sailing all the time.
Bakugou huffed, a rare, soft chuckle leaving his lips. “I hope you’re right. I don’t plan on letting a bunch of trees outsmart us.”
As the night wore on, you could feel the suspense building for the journey ahead. The campfire’s warmth was a fleeting solace before the uncertainty of tomorrow. For now though, it was enough to keep the chill of apprehension at bay. Eventually, the conversation dwindled as exhaustion seeped into the group. One by one, your companions bid each other goodnight, surrendering to sleep.
But sleep had evaded you. You lay awake in the darkness, the stillness of the night amplifying the restless thoughts swirling in your mind. Insomnia wasn’t something you usually struggled with— at least, not recently. But tonight, it tightened its grip on you. It was suffocating. You tried to push those thoughts away, but it was easier said than done. With each toss in your bedroll, those plaguing thoughts only grew more persistent.
Out of all nights, it had to be tonight. But it made sense that you couldn’t sleep the night before entering Niniel’s Veil. You knew exactly what that forest meant for you. With a quiet sigh, you slipped out of your sleeping bag. Deciding that perhaps a walk might help. From your experience, a walk did usually help make you sleepier. 
Carefully, you slid your feet into your boots, moving with deliberate quiet. Reaching into your bag, you retrieved three items: a book, one of your quills, and a dagger. Whenever you found yourself unable to sleep, working on some lazy sketches of the scenery helped you unwind and gave you something to focus on. So for you, a book paired with a quill became a staple for your late night walks.
The dagger spoke for itself. You never knew what could jump out in the night. As you prepared for your walk, you took great care to keep your movements as silent as possible, tiptoeing past your sleeping companions. A few of them stirred slightly, but you held your breath, not wanting to disturb their rest. Once you were far enough from camp, you exhaled softly, feeling the tension ease.
Being a cartographer, you knew most areas well. After all, drawing out those maps tended to etch locations into your memory. Especially if you particularly liked the place. As you walked through the forest, you recalled a nearby spot that had always brought you peace. Confident in your sense of direction, you walked through the darkness. Your sight at night being no issue.
The nocturnal world around you stirred as you stepped through the quiet woods, the sounds of night creatures blending with the soft rustle of leaves underfoot. There was a calmness here, a solitude you had always found comforting. As much as you had grown to appreciate the company of your party, you couldn’t deny the pull of the silence.
Perhaps it wasn’t that you preferred being alone, but that you had simply grown accustomed to it. Cartography was a solitary profession, one that few could endure for long. But for you? This is the path chosen for you from the moment you were born. 
Your only true companion on these journeys had been Kyrah, your golden eagle familiar, whose presence had been invaluable in your work— a reliable partner who needed no more than a summons, carrying no extra weight. Kyrah is a familiar you manifested with the help of your father. She aids you in your mapping endeavours. You can seamlessly merge with Kyrah’s vision, often shifting your perspective to hers as she soars above, giving you a bird’s-eye view of the terrain below. Besides that, she’s a silent companion that helps quell the lonely journeys you go on. 
The sound of flowing water reached your ears, and you quickened your pace, heading toward the source. Soon, the sight of a waterfall came into view, illuminated by the soft light of the moon. It wasn’t a grand waterfall, but there was a serene beauty to it, a simplicity that had always drawn you in. You settled down by a rock, the moonlight washing over you as you gazed at the waterfall, its steady flow soothing your restless mind.
The frogs croaked softly in the background as you prepared you to sketch. When you couldn’t sleep, you’d draw. Sometimes, the act of sketching was enough to lull you to sleep— the rhythmic scratch of the quill against paper, the quiet ambiance around you. You opened your book and began to draw, letting the scene before you pull you into its tranquillity.
A sudden snap broke the stillness. Your heart jumped, and you could feel a large presence behind you. What the hell was that? Sure, things might go bump in the night, especially in the forest. But this was different—a heavy snap, the kind of sound only a beast could make. You weren’t about to wait for the beast to strike first. Instinct kicked in as you twisted your upper body. Ready to make the first move, fully expecting to face the threat head on.
You could have sworn you had grabbed your dagger, but instead, you found yourself holding your quill.
And it’s pressing into a rather familiar throat.
Bakugou had leaned in close, his breath warm against your skin, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at you. His eyes glinted with amusement, the sharpness in them betraying how much he was enjoying the situation. The distance between you was almost nonexistent, the tension palpable. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly under the quill’s pressure, a subtle reminder of how precarious the moment was. Yet he seemed unfazed, confident even, as if daring you to make the next move.
Bakugou raised an eyebrow at your choice of weapon. A shit-eating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You wanted so badly to rub that smirk off. “A quill? Really?” There was a mocking edge to his tone. “You can try, but it won’t do much.”
You narrowed your eyes, clearly unamused by this situation. “Could’ve sworn I had a dagger.”
He responded by waving the dagger in front of your face, the blade catching the light before he dropped it carelessly to the ground. “You mean this one?” his voice dripping with condescension. “You ought to be more aware.” 
You scoffed, pressing the quill harder against his throat, the tip leaving a faint mark of ink on his skin. “What are you doing here?” Your voice was steady, but the rush of adrenaline still coursed through you. As the question left your lips, you retracted the quill and leaned back against the rock, letting your body relax. The immediate sense of danger faded, but the tension between you and Bakugou lingered. 
He didn’t move, his gaze locked on you as he slowly lowered himself onto a nearby rock, keeping a deliberate distance. “I could ask you the same,” he replied, his tone more measured now. “You woke me up. Care to be less noisy?”
He was a light sleeper—not a surprise there. You’ve learnt that during the time you’ve spent with this group. “Could’ve gone back to sleep,” you retorted, your tone dismissive. “What’s your deal?”
Bakugou glared at you, his expression hardening. “My deal? You’re the one sneaking around in the middle of the night, waving a quill like it’s some kind of weapon.”
You let out a short, dry laugh. “You stole my dagger, you imbecile.”
He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Whatever. So what? You couldn’t sleep, so you decided to wander around and wake everyone up?”
You shrugged, avoiding his eyes as you looked out into the forest. “Just needed to clear my head. Walking helps sometimes.”
“Hmph.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not the best idea out here, alone.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” you muttered, half to yourself.
There’s a silence falling between you, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. The tension from your earlier confrontation lingered, though it had softened, replaced by something almost... tolerable. It was strange— how the two of you, so different in temperament and approach, could share a moment like this. You never would have expected to be sitting here with him, of all people, in the middle of the night. You studied his profile, the sharp angles of his face softened by the dim light.
Bakugou finally broke the silence, his voice quieter, less abrasive. "You worried about tomorrow?"
You’re caught off guard by the unexpected question. Was he worried too? "A bit. Niniel’s Veil isn’t exactly a stroll in the woods. But you’re all a strong bunch, so... we’ll manage."
He grunted in agreement, his gaze fixed on the darkened trees. "We’d better. There’s no room for mistakes."
You nodded, the weight of his words settling in. There was no room for error in a place like Niniel’s Veil. A pause followed, a moment of silence where neither of you said anything. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad that he was here. You needed to talk to him about the artefact he was searching for. You never did get the specifics. Taking a short breath, you looked at the barbarian.
“This artefact you’re looking for… do you know where it is within the Veil?” you asked, the weight of the question hanging in the air. As their guide, it was crucial you had this information, and you were kicking yourself for not asking sooner. But the right moment had never seemed to come until now. In all fairness, you could blame it on Bakugou. From the beginning, holding a decent conversation with him was nearly impossible— constant arguing, back and forth. Now at least, you’ve both learned to deal with each other.
Bakugou’s eyes flickered to yours, wearing a mask of gruff determination. “I’ve got a lead,” he said, his voice rough but edged with a hint of irritation. “A place deep within the Veil, near the heart of it. But don’t get your hopes up too high. I heard the Veil shifts around like it’s got a personal vendetta against anyone trying to navigate it.” He’s not wrong about the Veil. 
With a deep breath, Bakugou recited the riddle. His tone as if he were delivering bad news:
“In the forest’s heart where shadows loom,
Find the place where night flowers bloom.
Beneath the boughs where moonlight glows,
The artefact rests where the dark wind blows.”
You raised an eyebrow, struggling to stifle a laugh. “Seriously? That’s the hint? Sounds like a poetic way to say ‘good luck.’”
With a frustrated sigh, he squeezed his eyes shut. His hand ran through his hair as he recited the riddle internally. Bakugou didn’t have any other hints besides this riddle. “Better than wandering around aimlessly, right? Just don’t get lost yourself.”
You nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. “We’ll have to be careful then,” you said, your tone matching the seriousness of the situation. “No reckless moves.” You most certainly weren’t referring to a certain blond hothead. 
Bakugou’s eyes snapped back to you, looking rather annoyed. Seems like he’s caught on that you were referring to him. “Tch, don’t tell me what to do,” he barked, his voice edged with irritation. “I don’t need you hovering over me.”
He crossed his arms, clearly not thrilled by your little jab. “You focus on keeping yourself out of trouble. I don’t make reckless moves— I make results.”
Was he offended? You smirked, holding back a laugh. “I’ll be the one pulling your ass out of there when things go south.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, but there was an underlying smirk under that scowl. “Tch. We’ll see about that.”
The exchange lingered in the air, a mix of challenge and mutual respect. Whatever lay ahead in the Veil, you both understood the risks— and neither of you was backing down. Silence settled over the two of you, a comfortable quiet that neither felt the need to disrupt. You returned to your sketch, the soft scratch of your quill against the parchment a calming rhythm. Bakugou, seated beside you, methodically sharpened his scimitar. The metallic scrape of the blade meeting the stone punctuated the night air, creating a soothing harmony with your drawing.
“You don’t like elves,” Bakugou observed, his tone curious but cautious.  His words cut through the quiet, catching your attention. You slowly turn to look at him. He noticed your tone when you were reciting the tale of Niniel’s Veil. He was trying to piece something together. He was curious as to why your tone held such detest for elves. A species that you’re related to by blood. 
“My perspective on elves are complicated,” you replied, your voice steady but held a lining of spite within. “Besides, most of the continent don’t really like elves.”
“Right, but you’re a half-elf,” he pressed, trying to make sense of it. He hadn’t dealt with many elves before, only knowing them by their reputation— proud, conceited, and, in his limited experience, annoyingly uptight. A prudish bunch, as he calls it. But you’re a half-elf, an extension of their kind, so why do you hate them?
You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “Most elves hate half-elves, you know,” you said, the weight of the truth heavy in your words. “They call us Biir and N' Tel' Quess.”
The Elvish language slipped smoothly off your tongue, the sharpness of the words hanging in the air between you. The fluency of those words caught Bakugou off guard. He wasn’t used to hearing you speak the language, and even though he didn’t understand the words, he could hear the bitterness beneath them.
Bakugou raised an eyebrow, waiting for the translation.
“Garbage,” you said plainly, meeting his gaze. “And Not-People, that’s how they view us.”
For a moment, there was silence. Bakugou’s expression didn’t soften, but you could see a shift in his eyes. A flicker of understanding, maybe even anger at the idea. Bakugou couldn’t stand hearing that. Most would assume dragonborns were fearsome and overbearing, but in reality, they were often tolerant of all races. Extending their courtesy for even the most despised. For him, this was unacceptable. Sure, Bakugou berated most people who crossed his path, but it was more out of indifference rather than malice. He simply couldn’t be bothered with them. To hate due to blood was foreign to him.
It didn’t make sense to him— judging someone for something they had no control over felt pointless, even absurd. In his eyes, strength, character, and actions were what truly mattered, not the circumstances of one’s birth.
It reminded him of the situation with Mina. Being a tiefling in this world wasn’t easy. The hatred toward her kind stemmed from their demonic ancestry, creating a deep-rooted wave of mistrust and fear. Tieflings were often judged before they even spoke, their horns and eyes marking them as something to be wary of, something dangerous. To be one of the most hated races was a heavy burden, and Mina carried it with a grace that most wouldn’t expect.
“Those stuck-up bastards,” he muttered, his hands tightening into fists. “Calling their own that? Figures.” 
You shrugged, the casualness of your attitude not quite matching the weight of the conversation. “It’s nothing new. That’s just how most of them are. Especially if they've not travelled outside of elven lands.”
Bakugou's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. “So they just… call you that like it’s nothing?” 
You nodded, a trace of bitterness creeping into your voice. “To them, it’s not a big deal. Half-elves are reminders of what they consider impurity and grief. That our blood is tainted. We don’t fit neatly into their perfect little world.”
The dislike for half-elves is often a complicated mix of prejudice and resentment. You could dive into the history, recite what your father told you growing up, but that would keep you here all night. Half-elves symbolise something uncomfortable: the idea that elves and humans can cohabitate and create something together. To many elves, it’s a bitter reminder that their kind— whom they see as superior— could stoop so low as to bed a human, a race they often view as fleeting and inferior.
But the resentment runs deeper than just arrogance. Elves live for centuries, and their ability to reproduce is rare and sacred. Their culture involves tight-knit communities and communal child-rearing, with children being raised by the collective village or family over generations. Half-elves, however, live only slightly longer than humans, which more often than not, means the elven parent suffers.
The elven parent must watch their human spouse and child age and die before they've even reached the prime of their own life, by elven standards. For every half-elf born, there’s an elven parent who will grieve long after their family has turned to dust. To them, half-elf serves as living proof that bonding with other races, no matter how deep the connection, is temporary— and that loss comes far too soon.
So while some elves can look past it, seeing half-elves as a bridge between worlds rather than crude blood. Others see the inevitable grief, the reminder that friendship— and love— across races comes at a cost that some are not willing to pay.
Bakugou grumbles under his breath, the disdain clear in his tone now. “What a bunch of self-righteous assholes. Fucking hell.”
You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his bluntness. “Yeah, well, most of them are. It’s a complicated issue but it doesn’t excuse their treatment towards us. ” You take a deep breath from this conversation, continuing quietly. “But I don’t let it bother me. There are still a good bunch of elves that don’t have that terrible view.”
Bakugou grunted, crossing his arms. “Tch. Still doesn’t sit right with me. Doesn’t matter if it’s a few or most— people who think they’re better than everyone else just because of blood? Sounds like a load of crap.”
“Agreed,” you nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “But it’s not that simple. Some of those elves are deeply entrenched in their ways, raised to believe they’re the highest form of existence. They don’t even see it as arrogance— they see it as fact.”
Bakugou's expression hardened, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes. “Fact or not, I think they deserve a reality check just for using those words.” 
You gave him a small, appreciative smile. “Trust me, I’ve handed out a few of those in my time.”
Bakugou smirked at that, the familiar edge of his cockiness creeping back. “Good. ‘Cause if they try pulling that shit while I’m around, they’ll get their ass handed to them.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I can imagine. But you’d be surprised— some of the elves that look down on half-elves would probably never confront you openly. It’s all under-the-surface jabs, subtle insults. They’re too proud to start a fight.”
Bakugou’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “I’m good at starting fights when it’s needed. And ending them.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” you said with a grin. If there’s one thing Bakugou can do, it’s fight. “But like I said, not all of them are bad. Some have moved past those old prejudices. It’s just… a slow change. Too slow, honestly.”
He glanced at you, his expression softening slightly, though his usual fire was still there. “Well, whatever they think, they’re wrong. You’re better than all of ‘em.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, the weight of his words hung between you, and it felt more real than anything you had expected from Bakugou. You smiled softly, your tone quiet but genuine. “Thanks..”
Bakugou shifted awkwardly, clearly not used to moments like this. He grunted, scratching the back of his neck as if trying to brush off the vulnerability that had slipped through. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Right. Wouldn’t want to ruin your tough guy act.”
After a few moments, Bakugou shifted in his seat, the sound of his movements breaking the silence. He stood up, brushing off his pants with an unceremonious gesture. “Get some sleep,” he grumbled, his tone carrying a rare hint of concern. “We’ll need everyone sharp tomorrow.”
You nodded, pushing your sketchbook aside. “Fair point.” You began packing away your sketching supplies. “I’ll hit the hay. Just try not to snore too loudly. Some of us actually need our rest.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrowed playfully. “As if you’re one to talk. I’ve heard the way you mumble in your sleep.”
With that, the two of you headed back toward the camp. The mood was lighter, though it was more than just a shared understanding of the challenge ahead. Your relationship with Bakugou was more akin to a "strained alliance," an uneasy truce bound by necessity rather than genuine rapport.
But you can’t lie, you’re almost starting not to mind him as much. Bakugou’s not that bad. Especially after you opened up about your experience with elves. It was rather warming to see him care. As you both settled back into your respective spots, the night took on a lighter tone, if only slightly. 
The tavern was a far cry from the stillness of that night, but the firelight flickering against the walls reminded Bakugou of the campfires they had shared deep in the forest. He leans back in his chair, his scowl softening as the bard, a curious sort with an annoying penchant for digging into people’s thoughts, strummed a gentle tune on his lute. The tavern was buzzing with quiet conversation, but the bard’s attention was squarely on Bakugou, eyes gleaming with interest.
“It sounds like you and your companion have had quite the journey.”  the bard said, his fingers deftly dancing across the strings. 
Bakugou leaned back, crossing his arms, a hint of annoyance flashing in his eyes as he regarded the bard. “Yeah, well, it’s been a rough ride, but we’ve managed. Gotten used to each other’s ways, I guess.”
The bard’s eyes shined with mischief. “Oh? From what I hear, it sounds like you two have grown quite close. Almost like... friends, dare I say?”
Bakugou’s scowl deepened, though a hint of a smirk almost could be seen. The bard wasn’t exactly wrong but he wasn’t going to admit that. “Don’t get any funny ideas. We’ve had our share of disagreements. It’s more like we’ve learned to tolerate each other.”
The bard chuckled, clearly enjoying Bakugou’s discomfort. “Tolerate, you say? Sounds like there’s more to it than meets the eye.”
Bakugou’s gaze drifted to the fire, his thoughts returning to the journey. The memory of the initial tension with you was still fresh in his mind. It’s a shocking contrast to the relationship you both now had developed. He remembered the bickering and stubborn clashes, the way you both were constantly at each other's necks. But the forced cooperation in the face of danger and necessity, had brought the two of you closer. Close enough to know there was more beneath the surface than either let on. And close enough to know that both of you were skilled in your own ways.
“She’s smart, I’ll give her that,” Bakugou continues, his gaze shifting to the other end of the tavern. As if he could still see her sitting across from him, sketching with that damn quill of hers. “Knows her stuff. More than I expected, to be honest. Thought she’d be dead weight, but… she pulled her own.”
The bard’s fingers pause on the strings, catching the slight shift in Bakugou’s tone. “Sounds like she earned your respect.”
Bakugou huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Respect’s a strong word. She’s competent, that’s all. Doesn’t take shit from anyone, and I can respect that much. But she’s also a pain in the ass. Always has to have the last word, always poking where she shouldn’t.”
“She’s not what I expected. That’s all. She’s got guts, I’ll give her that. But the Veil—” He trails off, his thoughts drifting to the dense, dangerous forest. “The Veil isn’t a place for anyone who isn’t serious. She’s not just a mapmaker. She’s… stubborn. Determined. Like she’s got something to prove.”
“Well then,” the bard asks, his voice softer now. “Did she prove it?”
Did you prove yourself? Bakugou leans back in his chair, his mind drifting to the treacherous journey through Niniel’s Veil. The tales weren’t just stories; they were warnings wrapped in the guise of myths. The forest was alive in its own eerie way, shifting and twisting the paths like a serpent coiling around its prey. One moment, a well-trodden trail would be beneath their feet, and the next, it would vanish, swallowed by the creeping undergrowth, leaving only an expanse of unfamiliar trees.
The canopy overhead was dense, allowing slivers of light to filter through, but it was never enough to guide the way. The forest itself seemed to breathe, each exhale rearranging the landscape, turning known routes into mazes. More than once, they found themselves doubling back, only to be confronted by a landscape that had entirely changed. It was a place designed to ensnare even the most experienced adventurers, to make them doubt their every step.
But you— well, you were the wild card. The mapmaker who had spent years navigating the labyrinthine trails of Niniel’s Veil, sketching its hidden secrets and charting its treacherous paths. 
The moment the group stepped into the forest, it was as if the air itself shifted. The dense canopy overhead seemed to close in, casting an ethereal glow that made the forest feel alive, almost sentient. The ancient trees whispered secrets with every rustle of their leaves. The ground beneath was a patchwork of shadow and light, where every step seemed to echo with a haunting resonance. The forest was beautiful in a way that was both mesmerising and unnerving. Its beauty tainted by an ever-present sense of foreboding.
Bakugou had learned the hard way that these woods weren’t just any ordinary enchanted forest. They were alive. The moment the group entered the Veil, you took the lead cautiously, moving slower than usual. You would stop now and then, listening carefully, scanning the trees for any signs of change. But Bakugou didn't get it. He was growing irritated, impatience festering with each step. To him, it felt like you were wasting time.
“You’re taking too long,” he muttered, frustration clear in his voice as you paused once again to survey the surroundings. This felt like a familiar conversation. 
You shot him a look over your shoulder, keeping your voice low. “There’s a reason we’re moving carefully. This forest isn’t what it seems. Don’t rush ahead.”
Bakugou’s scowl deepened. “You’re being too slow. We’ll never get anywhere at this pace.” It’s almost as if he’s said these words before.
 
You sighed, feeling his impatience radiating off him in waves. “This isn’t about speed. If you push too far ahead, you’ll—”
“Whatever,” Bakugou cut you off, stepping forward, brushing past you. “We don’t have time for this.” He marched ahead, determined to lead, his movements quick and brash.
You watched him go, letting out a frustrated breath but deciding not to stop him. Fine, you thought. If he wanted to lead, let him. He’d figure it out soon enough. 
The group followed Bakugou as he charged forward, the dense trees swallowing them up in winding paths that twisted and turned unexpectedly. The deeper you went, the more the forest seemed to close in, the air growing thicker, the sounds of birds and insects fading into an eerie quiet. 
Bakugou’s frustration only grew as the terrain became more difficult to navigate. What had seemed like a straightforward path quickly revealed itself to be a maze of dense underbrush and looping trails. He stopped abruptly, looking around as if trying to piece together where he had gone wrong, his jaw clenched tight.
 
“Tch,” he growled, his hands tightening into fists. What the hell is this? His head swung around at the environment, scanning the area. “This doesn’t make sense.”
You hung back, casually following along with no rush. Your expression calm despite the increasingly tense atmosphere. You had known this would happen. The forest was designed to confuse those who didn’t understand its nature, and Bakugou, with all his confidence, was falling right into its trap. 
“Having fun up there?” you called out, unable to resist a smirk as Bakugou’s head whipped around to glare at you. 
“Shut up,” he snapped. “This damn forest keeps twisting around.”
“Imagine that,” you said dryly, still not speeding up. “It’s almost like there was a reason I told you to slow down.”
Bakugou huffed, visibly irritated but too stubborn to admit he was lost. His eyes darted around the trees, looking for anything familiar, but the forest had swallowed up any trace of the path you had entered on. His frustration grew with every step.
“Keep going,” you said casually, still following at a distance. “I’m sure we’re almost there.” 
Bakugou shot you a withering glare, knowing full well that you were letting him stew in his own mess. “Don’t think this is funny.”
“I don’t,” you said, trying to hide the amusement in your tone. “But maybe next time, you’ll think twice before charging ahead.”
Bakugou was visibly agitated now, his annoyance clear in every sharp movement and muttered curse under his breath. The deeper he ventured, the more disorienting the forest became. The trees seemed to close in tighter, their branches tangling above like a web that blocked out the sun. The path— if you could even call it that— had long disappeared into the twisting undergrowth. Every direction looked the same, and Bakugou could swear that no matter which way he turned, they weren’t making any progress. It was as if the forest itself was looping endlessly.
His frustration mounted as he realised he couldn’t find anything that might resemble an exit. But the only thing that greeted him was the endless stretch of green. He stopped abruptly, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, kicking at a nearby rock before turning back toward you. You were still a few paces behind, walking leisurely as if the forest’s tricks didn’t bother you in the slightest. It grated on his nerves even more.
He finally snapped. “Alright, fine. Take over.” His tone could barely contain his frustration. “You’re the one who thinks you know this place.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms casually. “Only if you admit you were wrong.”
That ticked him off immediately. Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, the refusal already forming on his lips. “What?”
“Simple,” you said, a small smirk playing on your face. “Admit you messed up, and apologise for not listening. Then, I’ll get us out of here.”
Bakugou’s jaw tightened, his pride practically oozing out of him as he struggled to keep his temper in check. “Like hell I’m apologising,” he growled. “We’re in this mess because we’re moving too damn slow, not because of me.”
You shrugged, unbothered by his anger. “Alright, then keep going. I’m sure we’ll find a way out… eventually.” You glanced around the dense forest with a mocking innocence, as if the overgrown labyrinth wasn’t a problem at all. “Or not.”
Bakugou’s knuckles grew white, his frustration reaching its peak. He turned away, muttering curses under his breath, refusing to give in. But with each step, the forest only seemed to become more twisted, the trees looming larger, the path disappearing further into the shadows.
After a few more agonising minutes, he stopped again, exasperation etched across his face. He glanced over his shoulder at you, the words sticking in his throat.
You raised an eyebrow, waiting.
Bakugou gritted his teeth, his voice a low growl. “Fine. I was wrong.”
You tilted your head, pretending not to hear. “Sorry, what was that?”
He shot you a glare so sharp it could’ve cut through the trees. “I said I was wrong. Now, will you stop screwing around and get us out of here?”
You smiled, finally stepping forward to take the lead. “Was that so hard?” you teased, earning another growl from Bakugou. But this time, he stayed silent, begrudgingly following as you began to lead them out of the forest’s confusing maze.
“Don’t worry,” you added over your shoulder, still wearing that smug grin. If you weren’t the guide, he might have wiped that grin off with a punch. “Next time, you can leave the leading to me.”
Your last words grinded his gears. Bakugou clenched his jaw tight as if physically restraining himself from barking back. He could’ve sworn he was going to snap you in half right then and there, but he held back. As infuriating as you were, a nagging realisation settled in his mind: they were lucky you had tagged along. Begrudgingly lucky, but lucky all the same.
You paused for a moment, surveying the dense woods with a practised eye, before you began guiding the group through with an effortless ease that made Bakugou’s earlier confidence seem laughable. 
Somehow— and Bakugou still couldn’t wrap his head around it— you led the group to a completely different section of the forest. It wasn’t long before the forest’s suffocating maze seemed to lift, and the trees thinned. Bakugou watched as the scenery changed in disbelief. Unable to figure out how you’d managed to navigate a forest that had him twisted in circles. You just had to be a smart ass didn’t you? 
The air felt lighter here, the trees taller and less oppressive. The sunlight trickled through the branches in a way that felt oddly peaceful. It was as if you had simply known the right path all along, and Bakugou couldn’t deny that it both impressed and annoyed him.
“You got the forest in your head or something?” he grumbled as they walked, trying to mask his grudging respect with irritation. “Or just dumb luck?”
You shot him a sidelong glance, an amused smirk plastered on your mouth. “Nah. Some of us just pay attention.”
“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed, folding his arms. “Like I don’t pay attention.”
“Not to the right things, apparently,” you teased, your voice light with sarcasm. “But hey, can’t blame you for getting lost. It happens when you’re too busy charging ahead.”
Bakugou’s eye twitched, his pride bruised, but he refused to let you have the last word. “Yeah, well, next time, don’t take so damn long, and maybe I won’t have to charge ahead.”
You chuckled, enjoying the banter far more than you should. “Or maybe next time, you can just trust me from the start and save yourself the headache.”
Bakugou shot you a glare, the fire still in his eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. “Trust? You?” He huffed, shaking his head. “You wish.”
“Come on, you know I’m right,” you said, grinning. “If I didn’t bail you out, you’d probably still be wandering around in circles.”
Bakugou’s jaw tightened again. He wasn’t going to admit to that. “I’ll get it next time,” he growled, his voice low. “Give me a day and I’ll figure it out.”
“Right,” you replied with a chuckle. “Like how you ‘figured out’ the forest back there?”
He was tempted to send a fireball flying your way. “Shut up.” But deep down, he couldn’t deny the truth of your words. You had saved them time, even if it bruised his ego to admit it. Bakugou might not like relying on anyone, but he knew now that you weren’t just dead weight on this journey. Even if he didn’t say it out loud.
“Well,” you said after a moment, glancing at him with a smirk. “Apology accepted.”
Bakugou glared at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You’re pushing it.”
You laughed again, and for a brief second, even Bakugou couldn’t help the slight curve of a smile that tugged at his lips, though it was gone as quickly as it came. Despite his frustration, Bakugou couldn’t deny that you had proven yourself. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to be said for listening to you every once in a while. Only maybe. 
You weren’t the only one who had to prove themselves on this journey. Bakugou, despite his rough exterior and temper, had shown you that he was far more than some brash barbarian. When it mattered, he actually listened to you. You remembered how shocked you were when he considered your advice for the first time. That alone was impressive, though not entirely surprising. You have always known that he had a sharp mind behind those fiery eyes. He was someone who knew when to comply for the sake of the mission. But what did catch you off guard was how unexpectedly soft he could be.
Bakugou was guarded, always projecting an imposing figure, a man who never let his guard down. But you noticed the small moments when that armour cracked. In the way he bantered with his friends, how his laughter turned genuine when he was with them. He wasn’t just their leader; he was their friend. No matter how many times he’s complained about needing to take care of such a hopeless bunch. He truly cared.
You saw it when Sero got scratched by a dryad— Bakugou had lunged in without a second thought, his only concern being his friend’s safety. Afterwards, he chewed Sero out for being careless. And when Kirishima had tripped and hit the ground hard, Bakugou was the first to reach him, his hand outstretched, his voice stiffened with concern. Admittedly, he also made fun of his dragonborn companion for tripping but there was warmth in it. His care always came with a bite. 
There was a softness to him, a deep-seated loyalty and care for his companions that he kept hidden beneath layers of bravado and aggression. It’s as if his tough facade sometimes melts away in their presence, revealing a side of him that’s rarely seen. It was something you hadn’t expected from him, and it left you wondering just how much more there was to Katsuki Bakugou than what he let on. 
This softer side of Bakugou was revealed in the midst of battle. As you fought off a group of thorn wolves, you found yourself preoccupied with one particularly vicious beast. Your focus was on fending off the thorn wolves in front of you, but a sudden growl from behind warned you of a new threat. 
Before you could react, Bakugou’s figure appeared, crashing into the fray. His greatsword swung at the thorn wolf. Sending the wolf sprawling before he then turned to face you. 
“Watch your back!” he snapped, his tone was clearly irritated with you. But there was something softer underneath. 
You glared at him. Fine, he saved the skin of your back right there but you rather not be indebted to him. You probably could have handled it. “I had it under control.”
Bakugou huffed, eyes flashing with annoyance. “What did you say about us being in over our heads in this again?” 
You raised an eyebrow, dodging another swipe from a thorn wolf. Did he really remember your words from the first meeting? “Didn’t realise you were so invested in proving me wrong.”
He let out a grunt. His expression remained focused on the fight, but there was a glint of something like amusement— or was it satisfaction?— in his eyes. “Just trying to keep you from getting yourself killed. We need you to get us out of this mess.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the chaos of the battle. “Good to know you care.”
Bakugou snorted, shoving another wolf away. “I don’t care about you.”
You nodded, falling back into the rhythm of the fight, Bakugou's presence a reassuringly fierce force at your side. Even amidst the danger, his unexpected softness was a reminder that there was more to him than met the eye. While you’d always been confident in your own abilities, it was oddly reassuring to know that he’d be there, watching your six, just as you’d be watching his.
After the fight, the group busied themselves with tending to the light scratches and wounds they’d sustained. The injuries were minor, nothing that wouldn’t heal in a few days. Especially with your healing hands. You leaned against a tree, studying the compass in your hands, trying to keep your focus off the persistent, prickly sensation of being watched.
When you finally looked up, you found Bakugou’s gaze locked on you. It wasn’t the kind of stare that made you uncomfortable— he wasn’t leering. Instead, his eyes were sharp and focused, scanning your body with a meticulous intensity. It was clear he was checking you for any signs of injury, a gesture that was surprisingly thoughtful coming from him.
“Worried?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 
Bakugou’s face flushed slightly, his irritation evident as he snapped his attention away from you and back to the rest of the group. “As if.” he huffed, his tone gruff but carrying a hint of something softer underneath. 
You watched him retreat into his usual brusque demeanour, a faint smile tugging at your lips. It seemed like he had his own way of showing concern, and as much as he tried to hide it. The journey was far from over, and the Veil still held its secrets. But in that moment, you understood him a little better. Whatever lay ahead, you’d face it together, even if you had to drag Bakugou kicking and screaming the whole way.
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a/n: personally, i loved the lil midnight chat with bakugou wbu? @chocogoldie @l0kisbitch @devils-adversary @miikii0 @onlyisaa @sleepisfortheweakpooh
border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight
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Trine [7]
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Anselm Vogelweide X Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Part One • Trine Masterlist • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • request info • ko-fi •
Series Masterlist
Summary: Anselm and you have meetings all day, and Blue isn't amused.
A/N: This hasn't been proofread, I don't know what I'm doing or what happened this just sort of appeared in my brain.
Warnings: crying, Blue being a bit bratty and then emotional and needy, Blue having emotions?? Whaaat?, oral (m! receiving), reader is married to Anselm, Anselm refers to reader as ‘my love’, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 2813
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Blue glares daggers (and bullets and some kind of illegal toxin that makes its victim's skin fall off) at the man sitting opposite you. He couldn’t be bothered to learn his name, refused to, he was fed up of all of the useless and boring people that had been demanding your time today.
His expression quickly changed when you noticed him standing in your office doorway, he smiled sweetly at you, batting his eyes and walking over when you grinned. 
“Hello, sweet thing.” You say softly, moving a little and pushing your chair out from your desk a fraction. 
Blue leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek then nuzzling into your neck and breathing deeply.
“You okay?” You whisper. 
“Hmm, I miss you.” He mutters, putting on the sweetest voice you have ever heard while sneaking a vicious scowl at the gentleman you were having a meeting with. Practically snarling. 
You knew exactly what Blue was doing. 
But you liked to indulge him. 
“Aww,” you say, lightly stroking his hair. He presses himself closer to your hand, like a pampered housecat. “I won’t be much longer, I promise.” 
He pouts lightly, a hint of a smile on his lips. 
“Come sit with me while I finish this meeting?” 
He grins wickedly the second you finish speaking and climbs eagerly into your lap when you tap your thighs. Warmth rolls off his body as he settles, kissing your neck lightly and wrapping his arms around you before he looks back across your desk. 
He maintains eye contact with your meeting as he puts his heels up on the edge of your polished wooden desk, something he has asked your permission about before. He wiggles his house slippers, trying to be as much of an annoyance to the man as possible. 
To his credit, the man glances quickly back to you, and stays quiet. 
You tut lightly and with humour, gently tapping Blue’s shin. “Behave.” 
Blue chuckles. “I’m sorry.” He whispers in your ear, very unapologetically with unbridled glee in his voice. 
You nod, “Continue Theo.”
Blue rolls his eyes, ugh, as the man across starts to talk. Some nonsense about profits and manufacturing and blah, blah, blah. 
You answer every now and then, occasionally questioning and nodding. Blue likes it when you talk, the way your voice rumbles through your chest into his skin. The sounds of your sweet and silky voice forming the syllables. 
You don’t get up when Theo finishes and thanks you for your time, due to Blue, but you do shake his hand. 
Blue nearly throws a punch when Theo has the gall to ghost his lips over your knuckles. The only thing that stops him is your hand on his waist. 
You wait until he’s left and your office door is closed before you regard Blue with a smirk. 
He grabs your hand hastily, and licks over the spot Theo’s lips touched before he sucks on your skin.
You chuckle at his little display, at the frown that has formed on his forehead. “Did Anselm kick you out of his office?” 
Blue pouts, and eventually pulls his mouth back far enough to answer you. “No.” 
“No?” 
“He was being dull.”
You laugh. “Dull?” You tease.
“He said I was a distraction. And he was ignoring me.” 
“Aw, poor baby.” 
Blue nods, squirming a little in your lap. “I am.”
You stroke his hair with your free hand. 
“He wouldn’t even let me sit near him.” He sulks, “I had to sit on a regular chair with the other people. Like I was just some business associate.” He grumbles, his frown growing. 
You bite your lips together to stop your smile, you’d never seen Blue in quite such a bad mood. 
The agreement had been that Anselm would keep Blue with him while you attended to your meetings today. 
Blue keeps your hand close, squeezing it rhythmically. You don’t think he consciously realises what he’s doing.
“He’s really upset you, hasn’t he?” You ask softly and Blue nods. 
“Yes.” His voice is grumpy and rough, a toddler throwing a tantrum. 
“I’ll make sure he makes it up to you later, hmm?” You stroke your fingers down to his chin, taking hold of it and lightly turning him to fully face you. 
He shrugs, the pout still on his lips. 
Oh, Anselm had really upset him. 
“What did he do?” 
Blue’s eyes flick to you before looking back at your hand. “Nothing.” 
“Nothing?” 
“Hmm.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” You tease, trying to lighten his mood. But he just sighs and just snuggles closer to you, curling up and pressing his head into your chest. 
“Hey,” you say gently, wrapping your arms around him and kissing the top of his head. “You’re ours, you know that right? We love you very much.” 
“You love me.” He grumbles, and you laugh.
“We love you.”
“Hmm.” 
You squeeze him tighter, just holding him for a moment while he relaxes into your embrace. 
“I could get him in here right now,” you say, “make him get on his knees and stuff his mouth with you until you forgive him?” 
Blue snorts but shakes his head. 
Oh, now that’s really, really worrying you. You pause, thinking. “We could go home? I could put you in that chair I’ve told you about, the one dildo and fleshlight?” 
He squirms a little at that, his breathing hitching ever so slightly as he buries his face further into your neck. But it’s still not the reaction you’d come to expect from him.
A little smile spreads across your face, “I have another meeting.” You say softly, and you feel the scowl on his face. “Come on, sit up.” 
He groans a little, but does as you ask, expecting to have to get off and leave. Instead you guide him into sitting with his feet flat on the floor and his back against your chest. 
“Keep your hands on the armrests, understand?” 
He swallows and nods, curiosity mixing with arousal as you unzip his trousers. He’s unsurprisingly hard.
Blue whines the second your fingers touch his length, pressing back closer to you and moaning lightly. 
“You know what to say if you want me to stop, yes?” 
He nods, swallowing. “Yes.” 
“Good.” You kiss his temple and then lean to the side and hit the intercom to your receptionist with your free hand. “Send them in.” 
Blue squirms, his breathing catching in his throat as he fights to keep his hips still. 
“You like being on show for me?” You whisper in his ear, kissing just below. 
He nods, pressing his back as close as he can to your chest. Something settles uncomfortably in his chest, normally this would be driving him crazy. He’d want an audience, demand one. But now…
“Wait…” He grabs your free hand, suddenly unsettled. “I don’t want…” 
“Blue?” 
“Yellow.” He repeats and you stop instantly, quickly hitting the intercom, “Cancel that, I’m not ready for the next meeting.” 
Your receptionist's voice replies with a quick confirmation. 
“Blue,” you kiss his cheek while you rub his arm, “my sweet.”
He nuzzles into you, letting out a little heartbreaking sigh. 
“I need you to speak with me. Is that alright?”
He nods, fiddling with your fingers. You know it’s difficult for him, communicating. There are walls inside him where most only have open fields. 
“What did Anselm do?” You ask gently. 
“Nothing.” 
You let it rest for a moment. 
“It’s me,” Blue says shyly, his voice almost timid. “He didn’t do anything.”
“What happened?” You kiss his temple and he lets out a little soft whimper. 
“I was being…”
“Dramatic?” You tease playfully. 
“Difficult.” He rephrases, but there’s humour in his voice. “As normal.” He threads his fingers with yours and holds his hand close to his chest. 
“Anselm likes it when you’re difficult.” 
“I know. And he was only doing what we normally do, I’m… bratty. And he ignores me and then pretends to get annoyed and then…”
“He punishes you.” 
He squirms a little, his skin flushing with heat as he nods. “Yeah…”
“And you like that normally.” He nods.
“What was different this time?” 
“I… I don’t know.” He swallows, his voice thick. “It felt… I didn’t like him ignoring me.” He presses his face to your chest. “I didn’t like it… it felt… upsetting.” 
You listen, giving him room to speak. 
“And then…” He swallows again, “I didn’t tell him I didn’t like it, I know I should have… but I didn’t want to, in front of the other people.” 
You nod. “I understand.” You soothe. “You know if you had he would have doted on you? Either fucked you in front of them or sent them all out to do it in private.” 
Blue nods against you. “I know, I know he would. Part of me… the…” he taps his head, “knows he would have. But,” he presses both hands, and yours in the process, to his chest. “Here was…” His voice breaks a little.
“It’s alright,” you kiss his head again, squeezing him into a hug. 
“I should have told him.” 
“Sometimes it’s difficult to do things, I understand.” 
He nods, swallowing and blinking hard. 
“It’s good you came to me though. Better to come to one of us or both rather than just be alone.”
“Hmm,” he lets go of your hand to rub at his eyes. 
You let him for a moment and then tilt his head up. There’s wetness on his cheeks. 
You kiss his nose, his forehead and cheeks until he’s smiling. 
“I’m going to get our husband,” you kiss his temple. 
Blue gives you a dopey love sick smile at your turn of phrase, “You don’t have to, I don’t want to bother either of you-”
You shake your head, kissing his nose again. “You are never a bother.” You smile. “Unless it’s in a fun, oh no, you’re so naughty way.” 
He smiles, pressing closer to your neck as you. 
You call Anselm, who answers immediately, and speak quickly in rapid fire German to explain the situation. Blue tries to listen and pick out words as best he can, but the conversation is lost on him. 
When you put your phone down you gently urge Blue to get up and fully redress himself before guiding him out of your office and further down the corridor. 
You take him to a side room, using your thumbprint to unlock the door and lead him inside. 
It’s fair size, decorated in lots of dark wood and wine red. It reminds Blue a little of a fancy presidential suite, but with more touches that are tailored to your and Anselm’s tastes.
“I didn’t know you had somewhere like this here,” he says quietly, touching the bookshelf.
“It hasn’t been used in a while, there was a time when business was a little more unstable.”
His eyebrows pinch together and there’s a rawness in his gaze. He nods, looking a little frail and lost. 
“Here,” you take his hand and sit him down on the large plush sofa, wrapping your right hand over his shoulders as you rest next to him. 
He presses closer instantly, snuggling into your embrace. He breathes deeply, his lips against your neck, the action quickly becoming light kisses to your skin. 
“Blue,” you say softly, trying to deny the heat that pools in your stomach. “You don’t have to.” 
He whines gently for you, the sound almost purring. “Need you, always need you.” He mutters, littering your jaw with kisses until his lips find yours. 
His mouth is hot and needy, desperate as he strokes your tongue with his own. His hands pull at your hips, urging you closer. 
He breaks the kiss for a moment to undo and pull off his shirt, leaving it uncharacteristically in a hasty mess on the floor. 
You run your hands through his hair when he kisses you again, dragging your nails across his scalp and grinning when he shivers and sighs. 
Blue doesn’t hear when the door opens, too lost in the feel of you, but you do. You open your eyes as Anselm walks in quickly. There’s a pained expression on his face. 
You kiss Blue’s cheek, moving back and holding his jaw softly but firmly when he tries to follow you. 
“My kleine blau,” Anselm’s voice rumbles as he reaches the sofa and sits down behind him. 
Blue turns, looking down and hesitant. Embarrassed, you realise. 
“I didn’t mean to get you out of your meeting-” Blue begins, but is cut off by Anselm’s hand on his cheek, pulling him closer, and his tongue down his throat. 
Blue whines softly into the embrace, reaching back and tangling his fingers in Anselm’s wild hair. 
You lean up and run your tongue along his collarbone, sucking at his pulse point. Blue’s muffled cry raises in pitch as he grabs hold of your shoulders, pulling you closer. 
“I did not realise you were distressed, my love,” Anselm mutters between kisses, his voice low with lust but also pinched with worry. “You are more important than any meeting.” He doesn’t give Blue a chance to answer, swallowing his words every time he tries. “Ever. The most important.” 
Anselm moves, lightly touching the back of your neck and pressing warm kisses to your lips. “Thank you for telling me.” 
You smile and stroke your husband's cheek. He rests against your palm instantly, taking a deep breath. 
“I’m sorry for-” Blue tries to start again.
“Nothing. You are sorry for nothing.” Anselm growls while you kiss Blue to silence him. 
“Our Blue,” you mutter into his mouth. 
“Our Blue.” Anselm echos as he kisses down Blue’s chest. 
Blue moans, squirming ever so slightly as Anselm undoes his belt and slides his trousers from his hips. 
“You don’t have to…” He groans loudly as you suck a love bite into the spot just below his ear. 
“We want to,” you whisper as Anselm removes his boxers and flicks his tongue against Blue’s tip. 
He gasps, muscles twitching as he bucks up. 
“Poor thing,” Anselm hums, “being so needy for so long.” 
Blue bites his lip and nods, his eyes rolling back as Anselm sucks the head of his cock into his warm mouth. He lets out a string of whimpers and expletives, mumbled pleads as he gasps for air. 
He presses his head back against the sofa, sinking into the sensations and grabs for both you and Anselm, taking your hand in his left and Anselm’s in his right. 
Anselm sinks lower, taking him further into the tight heat of his mouth.
“Please, please, please,” he whines, not really knowing what he’s saying fully. He squeezes both of your hands desperately, needing you both so badly that it’s painful. 
He hiccups, gasps, “I…” but doesn’t know what he wants to ask for. 
“Here.” Anselm pulls away and presses at the back of Blue’s thighs, practically bending him in half on himself. He licks up the length of him before moving down and lapping at his balls. 
Blue cries out, shivering and shaking in both of your arms. 
Anselm licks lower, “my love?” He nods to you and you know what he plans instantly. 
You move down and flick your tongue over Blue’s slit as your husband dips his head and spreads Blue wider. 
Blue mewls, practically sobbing as you sink deeper, swallowing around his cock as Anselm licks his hole at the same instant. 
“Oh,” he bites his lip, his hips bucking and stomach clenching as you bob your head and Anselm laps. “Oh, god.”
He’s going to faint, he’s going to pass out from the feeling. Both of your mouths so hot and wet and perfect, focused completely on him while he writhes at your mercy. 
The tight ball of pleasure twists and tightens desperately in his stomach, tingles along his veins. His emotions twirl, combine and threaten to pull him under so suddenly. 
The head of his cock bumps against the back of your throat as you swallow, just as Anselm presses the tip of his tongue inside. 
“I’m, I’m,” Blue bites his lip, trying to stop himself but finding himself wanting. “I’m gonna cum.”
Both of you moan as he speaks, the hum vibrating so desirously along his nerves, making him delirious from pleasure. 
He cries out, his back arching as he comes. 
You swallow eagerly as he spurts down your throat, coming and coming so hard that his voice breaks from his scream. 
It’s only when his muscles finally relax that you both break your mouths away from him, kissing up his stomach and nuzzle against his skin, wrapping your arms around Blue and hugging him tightly. 
He breathes deeply, sweat cooling on his flushed skin, as he clings onto you both, needing the safety of your embrace. 
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belovedivies · 2 days
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syndrome ft. thaddeus
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cw: minor spoiler, pining.
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Thaddeus eluded you.
The same way people did him, honestly.
But then there was you again, and you had just kind of been there; standing by Raphael’s side like a loyal dog since day one. Never frowning, never raising your voice. And he didn’t think he minded it, not really. He liked that your serenity balanced out the semi-man-child whom Thaddeus now called his new boss. You were soft, gentle, benevolent. Maybe only at times. Greeting him whenever he passed by you in the hallway. Laughing at his stupid jokes. Humming a foreign song under your breath that the Apostle didn’t recognize.
One less eggshell to walk on, yet two ticking bombs remained.
He liked your eyes too. Shining, dazzling, so unlike Raphael’s. The redhead only felt that familiar twinge of annoyance when you gazed up at the man you called your little brother with so much love and care. Like you were willing to hang the moon and stars for him. And Thaddeus wasn’t jealous, not really. Raphael was your flesh and blood; it’s only natural that devotion would dig deeper than any shovel or sword could.
But you only had that impenetrable smile on these days. Moving with grace and gold. Keeping your distance. He couldn’t even hold a conversation for longer than one minute before you excused yourself out of the room, not sparing him another glance.
Your indifference bothered him.
Made him feel like he was a snot-nosed brat all over again, struggling to survive in that dog-eat-dog shithole he reluctantly called a family. Years ago, when you took the knife out of Raphael’s hands and dug the blade into Father Gabriel’s heart for him, Thaddeus was stuck kicking his legs somewhere far away until his limbs were bent at an inhuman angle, his lungs burning for air. But he pushed through the pain, the tears, the blood early on. He had to become the strongest.
For what, a six-year-old him once pondered.
Sitting by the pond in the garden and swinging his legs in a pair of dojo shoes he had soon outgrown. Martial Arts is about the body and the mind. Integrity, courage, respect. He never intended to frighten others and should have never been considered a weapon of destruction either. But then came the power. The control. The entire continent soon bowed to the King of Kowloon, and Thaddeus was nothing short of elastic.
As much as he hated to admit it, the fight with your little brother knocked some sense into his thick skull. The Apostle didn’t even have time to process his defeat before Raphael wrapped him up in a white body suit that made him look like a goddamn psych ward patient, heavy chains bidding his legs together and keeping him suspended in the air. Thaddeus refused to yield then, gritting his teeth and cursing out strings of profanity that he wasn’t taught before. He fussed, yet Raphael was barely fazed. The punishment didn’t come right away.
It was the days after that.
Days when he was all alone in the base with nothing but his thoughts for company. Thaddeus kept his head hung low and just stared blankly. He felt like a slab of meat. Static noises played on repeat inside his head; and he was okay with that, really. He didn’t want to think anymore.
The hours were so long that he stopped counting. Only then did sleep eventually claim him—a stuffy, dreamless slumber.
The redhead didn’t know how long he had been unconscious. But when he woke up, he found himself on the ground; the chains and ridiculous costume miraculously all gone. He was resting his head on something soft too. Thaddeus’ mind tutted its alarm late, but when it did, his body shot up as if struck by lightning and muttered up whatever little strength was left to put some space between him and this unfamiliar presence. Yet the second he attempted to move, his vision started spinning. A stabbing discomfort gnawed on his nape, and Thaddeus realized he was hit with the worst neck pain ever.
He was going to fall at this point. Crashing face-down on the ground like a pathetic loser. The Apostle’s legs wobbled like overcooked noodles as he braced himself for the fall that never came. Instead, he found himself on his back once more, wondering if his body had even moved an inch in the first place.
But there was you, staring down at Thaddeus with a smile.
“Welcome back,” he hadn’t heard any voice in days, much less one as pleasant as yours. The way your hands cradle his face felt like a hug on a winter day. When you shifted, Thaddeus’ stomach did a weird twist.
You didn’t seem to mind him gaping at you like a dead fish, tilting forward with that same mysterious quirk on your lips. Your hair falls around him in soft curtains, blocking the flicking lightbulb ahead that was starting to hurt his eyes.
“How are you feeling?” Your fingers weaved through Thaddeus’ hair. And it felt good, so good he thought he could fall asleep again right here, with his head on your lap. The stinging pain at the back of his nape went away almost instantly when the tips of your digits grazed through the spot.
He opened his mouth, trying to get the words out. It’s useless; his throat was so parched. Thaddeus guzzled the bottled water you handed him in less than two seconds, not caring if his whole face was drenched too in the process. He heard a giggle from you, sounding like mist drops on leaf dripping down a pond.
You came here by yourself.
That much he collected when you pat his face dry with a handkerchief, the silver cross embroidery at the edge tickling his jawline. The movement was still nothing but gentle, yet Thaddeus noticed the corner of your smile turning icy. You came alone, but not without purpose.
“What do you want?”
It might be a little too late, but his inquiry came out nonetheless. Thaddeus tried propping himself up with his elbows but soon realized they were shaking.
At the question, your head tilted to the side ever so slightly. Legs tucked under your thighs in a too-expensive dress. Not a single wrinkle or hair out of the place. Unfeeling. Unmoving. Pupils blown wide like a doll’s.
“I came to check up on you!” You sing-song, beaming too bright, too superficial he had to stop himself from cringing outwardly. “Sit up.”
The command barely registered in his weary mind when Thaddeus felt his body moving on its own, and he was sitting face-to-face with you.
The smile you gave him was nothing short of satisfactory. Eyes glinting with mirth. Like he was a puppy and just did something endearing.
“Here,” something warm slipped down his throat; soup? Thaddeus blinked in awe, feeling the herb soothing his deserted taste bud. He hadn’t eaten anything for a whole week, “how does it taste?”
“G-Good.” His response came immediately this time, albeit rasped and still shaky. But you didn’t mind, feeding him another spoonful of dumpling that he eagerly bit into. Thaddeus was left starved, and he was gonna rot here to death if you didn’t come.
You were technically his savior.
And you looked pleased too, letting him have the rest of the bowl until it was empty. Wiping his mouth clean. Guiding him to lie back on your lap. You were warm, so perfect. Thaddeus wondered why he wanted to get away in the first place.
“It will get better,” you hum, running your hands through his hair, “once you move in with us.”
Thaddeus perked up at the last part, meeting your eyes. Your gentle smile remained as your fingers slipped underneath his bangs, resting on his forehead. “Have you thought about what he said?”
He did.
More than he begrudged to relent. Between the endless hours hooked up to the ceiling and nasty bug bites bruising his skin, Thaddeus didn’t have much of a choice. If he somehow walked out of here alive, he would be dragging his feet until the friction scoured the heel of his shoes. Bitter. Humiliated. He didn’t want to be reduced back to the disappointment he was back then.
He needed to be strong.
“Good boy.”
Taking his silence as an answer, you giggled and ruffled his hair. For once, he was sure he had made the right choice.
Thaddeus was all over you. In the hallway, in the garden, in between those meetings he rarely ever showed up. Always saying your name with an ear-splitting grin. Always have something to say. A stupid joke to tell.
You never seemed to mind it. You never even liked him to begin with. But he felt comforted when you were there, passing him by like an invisible wall. Thaddeus remembered the way your hands felt on his skin that day. He wondered just what he had to do to have you close again, looking at him like he was precious. Like he meant something.
Raphael was so gonna kill him.
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♡dividers credit: @strangergraphics-archive♡ ♡masterlist♡
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stellayuta · 3 days
Text
Racing Hearts! - F1 Driver! Gojo Satoru (A LOTG spinoff) - Part 2
Part 1
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synopsis: Ferrari sensation Gojo Satoru dominates headlines and social media with his unmatched driving prowess and intriguing personal life. Yet, beneath the surface, Gojo harbors a secret that could shake up the F1 world. An unrelenting F1 journalist, determined to unearth the truth, becomes his unexpected adversary—one who might finally expose the enigma that is Gojo Satoru.
content: mdni/18+, formula one x jujutsu kaisen, afab!reader, eventual enemies to lovers, angst, themes of isolation, mental health themes, swearing, suggestive themes
author's note: I've decided that we all deserve F1 Gojo as much as we deserved F1 Yuta. Hope the jjk and formula one fans enjoy this. This will be much more drama packed than LOTG. Keep following along!
word count: 1.8k
Gojo Satoru knew that the weight on his abdomen was off by a pound or two. Had you lost weight?
"Wake up, already" you coo at him teasingly. "You're such a sloth, 'Toru."
"Mmmm...." Gojo stretches his neck back to its limit and places his hands on either side of your hips. "Five more minutes."
Gojo opens his eyes a little to see you perched on his crotch comfortably. He likes the view. Annoying little leech Y/N, her spaghetti strap falling off on one shoulder, her satiny dress bunching up under her breasts.
"It's media day, you have to wake up!"
"You wake up too. Don't you have work on media day." Satoru groans. "Wear something red."
"Red?" your voice suddenly turns darker. "Shouldn't I be wearing teal?"
Gojo furrows his brows and looks at you. "What d'ya mean?"
"Satoru Gojo, aren't you abandoning Ferrari and shifting to Mercedes?" you cock your head to the side as Gojo's eyes pop open like glowing bulbs as he realizes what you are saying.
"N-no. It's not... How did you know?"
"I know everything... and soon, everyone will." you whisper as you lean down to place your lips on his, your silhouette melting away into the air as the room goes dark.
The sharp ringing of his 6AM alarm slaps Gojo awake.
For a minute he lays there, his breath on a high tempo, unsure of where he is. He looks around for any sign of you - a shoe, a dress, a lipstick. Nothing. You were a dream.
A nightmare.
He slaps his cheeks, trying to normalize his breaths. "Wake up, Satoru!" he tells himself, much like you did, in his dream.
Gojo sits up in bed, ruffling his white hair and blinking at the slivers of early morning light creeping through the hotel curtains. The cool, sterile silence of his Monaco penthouse is replaced by the humid buzz of Singapore. The thin layer of sweat on his skin serves as an immediate reminder that he’s far from home.
Gojo rolls out of bed, stretching his long limbs as he paces to the window. The view outside reveals the glittering skyline, the bustling preparations for the Singapore Grand Prix starting below. The Marina Bay Sands glimmers in the distance, but Gojo's mind is elsewhere.
The weight of the upcoming media day hangs over him like a storm cloud. As one of Ferrari's marquee drivers, he knows every question will be a potential landmine, especially after yet another disappointing season without a championship. Every reporter will try to pull the truth out of him. There will be questions about his future at Ferrari.
"You’re really losing it, Satoru." he mutters as he heads to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. "Dreaming about that leech? Are you really that freaked out?" His reflection in the mirror stares back at him, mocking him with that same charismatic grin he's perfected for the cameras.
He pats his face dry with a crisp white towel, then tosses it aside, grabbing his phone to check the time—6:15 AM. He had about forty-five minutes before the media onslaught would begin.
Breakfast first, he thinks, as he throws on a Ferrari polo and a pair of sunglasses, slipping effortlessly into his public persona.
"Smile for your lovers!" He tells himself. "Smile, or they won't have a nice day!" He tugs at the corners of his mouth, coaching himself.
In the hotel’s bustling breakfast area, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the warm aroma of pastries and eggs. Gojo grabs a plate and scans the room for Yuji Itadori, his teammate. Sure enough, he spots Yuji already sitting at a corner table, enthusiastically chatting with some team engineers, gesturing wildly with a piece of toast in his hand. His face glows with enthusiasm when he sees Gojo walking towards them.
"Sensei!!!!" he yelps out, extending his hands towards Gojo.
"For fuck's sake, I've only taught you for two days, when you were a rookie."
"Whatever. Gojo sensei it is!" Yuji says, shaking his head like a puppy.
"How come you're up this early though? I was about to walk up to your room and create a scene." Yuji comments mischievously.
"Media day. No choice, right?" Gojo says, sliding into the seat next to Yuji. He wouldn't tell him about the dream. Or about the teal.
He gives a casual nod to the engineers, who quickly retreat to give the two drivers their space.
Yuji digs into a bowl of fruit, talking between bites. "You ready for it? They’re probably gonna hammer us about the car upgrades again. If I hear one more question about tire degradation, I might throw a pizza slice at them, mamma mia!"
"That's a sad rendition of the Italian mannerisms." Gojo comments, raising an eyebrow.
Before the playful banter can go any further, Gojo finds his phone vibrating.
—this time, a reminder about the team's pre-media meeting. He stands, adjusting his sunglasses, already slipping into the character the world knows him as.
"C'mon, Yuji. Let’s get this show started."
-
Gojo stood just outside the press conference room, one hand resting against the cool wall as he took a slow, deliberate breath. The air inside the venue was a mixture of anticipation and tension, thick enough to taste.
He entered the press conference room, his signature confident smirk in place, but beneath it, for the first time in his career, he felt something foreign—nerves. The weight of the rumors, the nightmare from this morning, and the pressure of yet another championship slipping away all collided in his mind. His sunglasses remained perched on his nose, shielding his eyes from the bright flashes of cameras. He took his seat at the front of the room, the Ferrari emblem standing bold and bright against his chest. The other drivers filed in slowly, taking their places for the press conference. Geto Suguru from Red Bull sat to his left, already engaged in conversation with one of the FIA officials, while Yuta Okkotsu and Inumaki Toge from Mercedes filled the spots on the far side. The media room was packed, buzzing with anticipation.
The moderator cleared his throat, signaling the start of the event. Gojo knew his turn would come first—being Ferrari’s star driver in the midst of swirling headlines made him the immediate focus.
“Gojo Satoru,” the moderator began, his voice cutting through the ambient chatter. “There have been several rumors about your future with Ferrari. Could you tell us if there's any truth to the reports linking you to a potential move to Mercedes next season?”
Gojo cleared his throat, trying to find his usual rhythm. “You know, I’ve heard the rumors too,” he began, flashing a grin at the reporters. “But I think people have been watching too much Netflix. Ferrari’s my team, and I’m fully focused on bringing home the championship for them. Anything else is just… background noise.”
Lies. Straight through his teeth. Sheer lies.
He tried not to but he made a split second eye contact with Mercedes' team principal - Toto Wolff, who nodded at him.
The reporters scribbled furiously, cameras clicking nonstop. It was a polished answer, the kind Gojo had given a thousand times before, but something in his chest remained unsettled.
The moderator then aimed his next arrow at Okkotsu's heart.
"Regardless of Mr. Satoru's answers, how do you feel about him as a potential teammate for next year's season, Mr. Yuta?"
Yuta looked slightly taken aback by the question. He took one swift glance at Inumaki and said - "It is up to the team. I have good rapport with Toge, here. I'm sure I'll do well with Satoru although, it will be sad to see my dear friend, Toge leave."
A diplomatic answer. Expected from Yuta.
The next question snapped Gojo back to reality.
“Gojo, with Ferrari’s recent struggles, do you think you still have what it takes to win a championship this season?” one reporter asked, clearly digging for tension.
But it wasn't the words, it was the voice that shook Gojo up. It was the same lips kissing him in his dream this morning. Gojo Satoru jerks back into his chair.
"I-I-"
"Do you think Ferrari have a good reason to keep you in?" you press, furrowing your brows. The reporters around you sense this strange animosity brewing between the two of you and start mumbling among themselves.
At that moment, Gojo feels utterly alone in the room.
"We will do whatever it takes to win! That is Ferrari's way of doing things!" a voice cuts through the silence. It is Ferrari's number 2 - Yuji.
A calmness takes over Gojo after Yuji's declaration.
Gojo leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he flashed a cheeky grin. “Do I think I still have what it takes? Come on, have you seen me race?” He let the laughter ripple through the room before continuing, his voice a touch more serious. “Look, the season’s not over yet. We’ve had some ups and downs, sure. But if anyone can turn this around, it’s me. Ferrari’s still in the fight.” He adds.
"Well then, I wish you two all the very best!" you say as you back out from the front row of reporters.
Good. You made them say that.
Gojo sat back in his chair, still trying to steady himself. The press conference had moved on, and the questions were now aimed at other drivers—strategies, tire management, technical updates—but the tension in his chest refused to settle. His mind raced, replaying the brief but intense exchange between the two of you.
He was shaken. Not by the technical questions being lobbed his way earlier, but by your presence, by that strange animosity that had crackled in the air. You weren’t just another reporter; there was something more. You had unsettled him in a way no one else had, and he couldn’t figure out why.
Across the room, the Mercedes team principals exchanged quiet words, their glances occasionally darting toward Gojo. Even though the spotlight had shifted to Yuta, who answered the questions with his usual calm professionalism, Gojo could sense the eyes watching him from all corners of the room.
Meanwhile, you stood among the other reporters, your pen idly tapping against your notepad, but your eyes were fixed on Gojo. You could feel it too—something was brewing in the background. The whispers about his potential move to Mercedes weren’t just rumors; they were part of a larger plan, something carefully orchestrated.
You weren’t sure how deep it went or who exactly was pulling the strings, but you knew one thing: Gojo couldn’t leave Ferrari. He belonged there. The thought of him jumping ship to Mercedes, of abandoning the prancing horse in its time of need, didn’t sit right with you. Something wasn’t adding up, and you felt the need to protect him.
With your job on the line, if you must.
You owe the timid boy from seven years ago, his face freshly red from his first race. You owe him that much.
To be continued...
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