#and left the sun to clean up his mess as usual

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Shameless

Tags: dad!Toji x fem!reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, he calls himself daddy

Synopsis: You’re Toji’s live-in nanny. He wants to breed you, and he successfully does so.

An: This is my story on ao3!! You can read it here. If you’re feeling extra nice, a kudos would be cool too.

Being a single dad was hard. Toji learned quickly after his wife's death that he in fact couldn't do this alone. The way little Megumi's big eyes looked up to him for direction... him of all people. He was not cut out for this. Megumi's mom was a wonderful mother: sweet, nurturing, and patient. Toji really didn't know if he was any of those things.

Luckily, her life insurance provided Toji with a relatively comfortable life combined with his job in construction of course. Construction might be his vice. He got away from home for 12 hours a day, and he worked so hard that his brain was mush by the time he was home. Not that he didn't love his son, he did, but every time he looked at Megumi he saw his sweet late wife. He also saw his short comings as a father.

Babysitters quit on him regularly. It was always the same excuse. "Megumi's an angel, but I can't be here 7 days a week. I have a life too." It was incredibly annoying. They'd stay for Megumi but left due to another one of his shortcomings.

Another one quit. That would be the third one this month. "Listen Mr. Fushiguro, I know a friend. She does this sort of thing on a different level. Have you ever considered having a live-in nanny?"

That stupid girl's question enlightened Toji. He had completely forgotten that live-in nannies still existed. After getting her friend's number and paying her what he owed her for her time, Toji relaxed on the couch with little Megumi tucked into his side. The three-year-old was happily babbling next to him, enamored by Toji's phone that was in his hand.

Toji looked at the number dialed into his phone, and he sighed. He was tired of making cold calls to potential babysitters like he was some desperate whore, but maybe, maybe this would be different. He wouldn't mind having a live-in nanny. His house wouldn't mind it either. Toji would be able to finally breathe. No more coming home from 12 hour shifts to pop something to eat in the microwave and wash the dishes. He wouldn't even have to see this so-called nanny often. He could pick up more hours at work with all of his new freedom of not having to worry about pissing off the babysitter.

*** *** ***

Either way, that's how you ended up in Toji's house. For the past three months you had taken care of Megumi, cleaned and deep cleaned his entire house, cooked him plenty of dinners from scratch, and even did his laundry the exact way he preferred. His house has never looked better, and Megumi had never looked so happy.

Despite being here for three months, you barely saw Toji. He seemed to avoid you like the plague and only answer with one-worded answers, which was fine. This was your job, not your actual family. There was no need for extensive communications. Though, you had gushed to your friend plenty over text about how hot "Mr. Fushiguro" was. He was conventionally attractive, yes. But you also always had a thing for the brooding types, and dammit, Toji was brooding. There was also something to be said about how he came home in the evenings. A black wifebeater clinging to his skin from a long day of working out in the sun. His jeans would be dirty from the work he was doing. His skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was always a mess. Goddammit. It was enough to make you feel fertile.

It was early in the morning, Toji was getting ready to go to work. Megumi had woken up, crying for his papa not to leave him. He's going through an extra clingy phase. He's usually okay once Toji's gone.

"Papa!" Megumi cried as Toji entered the living room. You had Megumi in your lap, rocking him with a sleepy look on your face. His tears were wetting your shirt, but you didn't seem to mind.

"He'll be back tonight, Gumi." You shooshed him and continued to try to rock him and pat his back.

Toji's face was unreadable. He was never one to get all upset over Megumi's crying, but hearing his son cry out for him tugged on his heartstrings extra this morning. Then, there was you. You were a godsend to Toji's life. Getting a live-in nanny was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Above that, you were excellent with Megumi. You were sweet... nurturing... patient. He hated how seeing you with his son made him feel. It almost felt like maybe 2 kids wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maybe 3. One on each of your legs and another one swelling in your belly. God. He was disgusted in himself for thinking like that.

"I love you, kiddo." Toji said quickly as he leaned down, giving Megumi's forehead a quick peck. The toddler made grabby hands for him. It was almost enough to make him stay home. Almost. Toji's eyes met yours as he was still leaned over. His face was close to yours. The tension between them were palpable. The moment felt like eternity between them.

Then, a black credit card was in view. "I need new work gloves. Get the extra thick rubber ones, will ya? Also, get whatever you and the kid want. I'll be back late tonight." He handed you the card and sauntered out of the house despite Megumi's pleas for him to stay. You looked at the Amex black card and blinked a couple of times. Only the top earners in the world had cards like this. Toji was just an average blue collar dad... It made you wonder how he got a card like this.

You still spent that shit though.

*** *** ***

Toji looked at his phone on the jobsite. No one dared to tell him to put it away. Toji was the best most competent worker out on the field. He could work circles around supervisors and project managers alike, and he was damn smart. He didn't need a pencil and paper or a calculator to make quick conversions in his head. So, most people stayed out of his way.

He smirked and chuckled at the notifications rolling in from his bank. 78.97 at Target. 21.25 at McDonald's. 43.52 at Barnes and Noble. 9.24 at Starbucks. He was happy you and Megumi were getting to have a little shopping spree.

You were also great at keeping him updated. You sent him lots of pictures and videos of Megumi. He cherished each one of them, immediately getting some of them printed and hung up in his house. There was even a picture of you and Megumi proudly displayed in the living room. In his mind, you were an integral part of the family. The "family" simply would not function if it weren't for you.

A fond smile spread across his face as he opened his messages. A picture of Megumi's little hands trying to fit into his new gloves that she had bought him. Great. She got the right ones. "I think he wants to be just like daddy :)", the message read.

Oh.

Oh.

The twitch that just occurred in his pants should be punishable in a court of law. In no way should he have gotten turned on by that. You were just being nice. It was a normal thing for people to refer to him as "daddy" in that context. It never affected him in the way it was right now.

So anyways, that's how he ended up in the port-a-potty busting a load all over a picture of you that he had on his phone. After the shock of his orgasm that came quicker than ever, he looked down, disappointed in himself. He wasn't some horny teenage boy anymore. This was just downright deplorable. Begrudgingly, he wiped his phone clean from his sins. Post-nut clarity swirled his brain. He couldn't believe he just did that.

He called your number. He had to make things right.

"Hello? Is everything okay?" You immediately asked. After living with Toji for some time now, you learned that he doesn't just call people. He will absolutely decline a call to just text and ask what's up.

"Everything is fine." He replied, trying to hide his amusement. It was cute that you seemed so worried for him. "Are you still in town?"

"Yeah, Megumi and I are about to leave Starbucks and head home. Why? What's up?" You responded back to him. He could hear Megumi happily singing a song in the background.

"You know you spent 152 dollars today?" Toji asked as he popped his back up against the port-a-potty door. He had a lazy smirk on his face.

"Oh- crap. I'm sorry. You can take whatever you see fit out of my pay-" He interrupted your nonsense quickly.

"Do you think I'm poor?" His voice was amused, not angry like you expected it to be.

"What-? No.. no, sir. I was just-"

"I told you to get whatever you and the kid want. Don't come back home until your certain that you can't carry the amount of stuff you bought in one trip." He said quickly. His stomach was already coiling from how you called him sir. He grimaced as he felt another twitch. I just took care of you dammit.

"Oh... oh, okay? Are you su-" Click. He hung up on you. One too many dumb questions. You looked at Megumi as he strapped into the backseat of your car. He looked intrigued by the conversation even though you knew he realistically had no idea what was just said. "Daddy said we have to go to the toy store." You grinned at him. He was smiling and clapping over the word "toy".

234.22 at Toys-R-Us. 122.56 at Lego. 208.38 at Aerie. 88.21 at Ulta Beauty. Another 94.48 at Barnes and Noble.

The way Toji grinned each time he felt that familiar vibration of his phone go off, meaning another notification from his bank was off-putting. Workers on the jobsite never seen him so happy. It was his penance for being such a horny freaky fuck.

*** *** ***

It was later that same evening. Megumi was in the living room surrounded by toys and crafting materials. He was currently drawing all sorts of "shadow animals" as he called them. You would of course look and nod your head, congratulating him on each terribly drawn animal. You acted like that was the best damn wolf-bear-owl hybrid you ever saw.

You were in the kitchen cooking chicken and dumplings. The clock on the stove read seven p.m. You didn't expect to see Toji at all this evening. He said he was working late this morning. Usually, that meant he was dragging his feet in through the door until well past ten p.m.

Still, you made him a serving of chicken and dumpling soup. You always did. Even when he worked late, you would put him a helping of dinner in the microwave to keep warm. You never knew, but he was always delighted by that. He ate the dinners each time.

A key jingling in the door handle caught your attention while you were getting Megumi settled at the dining room table. Three-year-olds were so hard to manage: too small to eat by themselves but too big to be locked in a high chair.

Toji stepped into the living room with a small grunt. He smirked as he looked around at his destroyed living room. Toys, crayons, and pieces of "artwork" were strewn all about the place. He glanced up towards you and Megumi in the kitchen. He took note of how your face was flushed and surprised.

"Papa!" Megumi happily shouted before the little bastard ran from your grasp to go hug on Toji's legs. His dad smiled as he looked down at Megumi, and he used his hand to mess up Megumi's hair affectionately.

"Go eat your food, kiddo." Toji said warmly to his son. Megumi happily obliged and ran right back to his seat right next to you, and you fed him a spoonful of the soup.

"You're home early." You stated the obvious.

Toji would never tell you, but he left early because he missed you two.

"Don't sound too happy to see me." He remarked in a sarcastic tone.

"What-? No, I just.. would've cleaned up more had I known you would be home so soon..." You responded. Megumi was sitting beside you whining for another bite of food. You snapped out of your surprise, and you fed him another bite of chicken and dumplings.

"Why? I don't give a damn what this place looks like." Toji said with a small nonchalant shrug. He walked through the living room, carefully stepping over the toys. Before you had become his nanny, this was how his house normally looked: messy, lived in. "I've got a bowl of dinner in the microwave. My kid's happy and fed. I couldn't care less what that living room looks like."

Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Toji was easy to please. He really just wanted what was best for his kid, and that was you. "I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." You replied. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. It looked like he might've wanted to say something, but he had backed out last minute. He hummed and walked towards his bedroom to shower the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day.

While Toji showered, you had finished feeding Megumi and yourself. You allowed Megumi to have about an hour of TV time before bed. He really enjoyed old X-Men cartoons. You turned them on for him and parked him on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket.

You hummed softly as you worked in the kitchen. You packed meal prep containers of soup for Toji to take for lunch for the next couple of days. Then, you were washing dishes in front of the sink.

*** *** ***

"I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." Your words repeated in Toji's head over and over like a mantra. He hadn't felt so... cared for in a long, long time. It made his heart feel full, which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. A less unfamiliar feeling was his dick standing fully erect and at attention. He groaned quietly as he leaned his head back in the shower.

Something had to be in the air recently. He was a grown man with desires, sure. But this was a new record for him. Ever since you started being a live-in nanny for him, the boners were a daily thing. Hell, twice or three times a day sometimes. He's tried everything... Well, okay, maybe not everything, but he's tried cold showers and staying away from you. Neither of those things work to soothe him.

His hand was gliding up and down his length for the second time today. He was facing the shower wall with his arm propped up on it, supporting his head. Damn you for making him feel like a slave to his desires. You wanted to make sure he had nothing to worry about? Then, you should be the one in here fixing this damn mess, not him. He pitifully rutted into his hand, imaging he's plunging deep into you. Imagining the multiple ways he'd fuck the hell out of you is the only thing that soothes the ache, but this time he didn't see an end in sight.

He gritted his teeth together, and he balled up his fist, rearing back before stopping himself. He's not a teenager anymore. He can't punch walls. He took a deep breath and turned the shower off. No, this won't do. He needs to fix this at the source.

After quickly drying off and getting dressed, he walked back into the kitchen. His eyes scanned over the house. Megumi was enthralled by the TV, and you were washing dishes. Perfect.

He slowly approached you from behind. He could tell you didn't hear him as you were still softly humming. Usually, you would stop humming if he entered the kitchen. He never understood why. The sounds of your melancholic hums were beautiful and soothing to him.

He was directly behind you, and his hands gently cupped your hips. You immediately flinched and made a soft scream that was quickly silenced by one of his hands. "Shh, we don't want to disturb the little brat, do we?" Toji said into your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

Toji's eyes flicked over towards the living room. Megumi hadn't moved an inch. Perfect.

Toji slowly released your mouth. To his delight, you didn't make a sound. He could hear how your breath was slightly labored from him scaring you. A small chuckle rose from his throat. His hands went back to your hips, and he pressed himself against your voluptuous ass. A hum of approval escaped him. He could see your hands gripping the countertops.

"Nod your head. You like this? Want me to keep pressing myself against you?" Toji whispered into your ear. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded your head eagerly, giving him consent.

"Dirty fucking girl." His voice was like a growl in your ear as he started to move his hips, dragging his length up and down along you. You could feel each inch of his length beckoning for you. "I knew you'd take whatever I gave you, but this? Letting me grind against you like a pathetic teenager while my son is in the living room? You're such a fucking slut." His hands were digging into your hips as he continued his controlled motions.

"Mnn.. fuck.." You softly whimpered out. Thank god the X-Men were currently in a loud fight scene.

You slightly frowned as you suddenly didn't feel Toji behind you anymore. You were about to turn around and ask what he was doing, but his fingers curling into the waistband of your leggings told you everything you needed to know. "Toji-" You managed to whisper out. No way could you two do this while Megumi was in the next room over.

"Shut up." Toji interrupted you. He had taken his throbbing length out of his sleeping pants, and he had a look of concentration on his face as he angled himself right at your entrance. "You have no fucking idea how long I've needed this. So just be a good girl, shut up, and take what I give you."

Direct orders from your boss. Who were you to deny the man who just spoiled you all day today?

It was a tight fit. Toji wasn't a gentleman. He didn't prep you with his fingers or mouth. This wasn't love making. It was hardly fucking. This was fulfilling a need.

"God... fuck. I didn't expect you to be that tight." He growled into your neck as he held your hips still against him. It felt like he was splitting you apart. You couldn't even respond to him.

He noticed how tightly you were gripping the counter and how you weren't responding to him. Your knuckles were turning white. He almost felt guilty. His hand came around the front of you, and he gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. "Shhh... You can take it. I know you can." He whispered into your ear as it was taking every last shred of self-restraint not to fuck you into oblivion right on this counter. He slowly pulled back until just his tip was inside, and he pushed all the way back in. "That's it. There's my good girl." He praised in your ear. It was not lost on him that he felt you get wetter with each praise.

He hesitated, but he said it anyway, "You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. That phrase made you tremble in his arms and nod your head. He slowly pulled back out and pushed right back in, taking you slowly. "That's right... hngh, fuck." He moaned into your ear. "You want to be fucked by daddy. You want to take his cock like a good girl. Take it." His hips started to move with more conviction.

You were already so out of it. This was like a dirty fantasy come true. You couldn't help but check the TV a few times to make sure X-Men was still playing. You were still worried that Megumi might run in here for whatever reason and see you bent over in front of his dad. You knew it was unlikely. Megumi could watch that TV like a zombie all day if you let him. Besides, you would be able to hear the small pitter-patter of his footsteps.

"Stop looking at the fucking TV. Trust me." Toji growled into your ear as he forced your hips down onto him roughly. A noiseless gasp escaped you. He wasn't small, and he knew that. He was using it to his advantage.

"Fuck." He groaned quietly as he rubbed you with a bit more fervor. You could already feel that familiar warm feeling coiling in your stomach. "I'm going to fuck a baby into you. You were fucking made for this. Made for raising my kids and taking my fucking load." He was spewing nonsense into your ear, but in the moment, you couldn't help but nod and moan. "You were made for me." He proclaimed as his hips continued harshly snapping into your backside. Somehow the sounds were masked.

"You want that, don't you?" He asked as he bit down on your neck then lapped at the bite mark with his tongue.

"Yes, daddy!" You quietly exclaimed. His thrusts only increased in power. Your eyes started to cross, getting lost in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're gonna look so perfect pregnant with my baby. I won't let you have a break. As soon as one comes out; I'm puttin' another one in you." He continued on yapping about how many kids he was going to pump into you. "I'll breed you again and again." His thrusts were heavy and brutal. You couldn't take it anymore.

He moaned as he felt you clenching around him, finishing all over his cock. It was enough to drive him overboard. He pumped you full of cum until you were sure some of it was seeping out.

There was a peaceful moment of dizzy highness for you two. Toji panted against your back. For the first time in while, he's felt satisfied. A soft amused laugh escaped him as he heard the iconic X-Men episode coming to an end. He swiftly pulled out of you, and he tried to ignore that little whimper of protest you let out. He tucked himself back into his pants, and he pulled your leggings and panties back up for you since you were still a trembling mess over the counter.

"Alright Kiddo, c'mon. Time for bed." Toji said as he sauntered off into the living room as if he didn't just rearrange your guts. He put Megumi to bed that night, and he cleaned up the living room for you, allowing for you to recover in his bed for round two. He was much more of a gentleman for round two.

*** *** ***

"Hey... I know I ain't been to see you in a while. I'm sorry." Toji said as he sat down on the grassy ground. "I was letting life pass me by for too damn long." He said as he took a wet washcloth and began to wash up his late wife's gravestone. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry about me."

"Megumi's growing like a weed. I'm sorry I didn't bring him to see you... I just don't know how to explain it to him." Toji's voice was full of guilt as he dragged the wet washcloth against the stone. "He's a good kid though. He looks just like you, damn bastard." He softly laughed, knowing his wife would've struck him over the side of the head for calling Megumi a damn bastard.

"Listen... I met a girl." He leaned his head over the gravestone. It had been close to three months since you and Toji started sleeping together. There wasn't a formal label to your relationship, but it didn't feel necessary. You two both knew you were sleeping exclusively with each other. "I think you'd like her, or maybe you wouldn't since she's fucking your husband. But either way... I-" He choked up a bit as he held onto the cold stone. "I feel so fucking guilty... I know you're not coming home anytime soon, but I just... I need your blessing. If you can somehow hear me, please... I never asked you for anything until I asked you to marry me. Now, I'm asking... please somehow show me you approve of this."

"She's good for me... She takes good care of Megumi. He's so damn attached to her somedays." Toji softly laughed as he remembered how a few nights ago Megumi crawled into bed with you and him because he had a nightmare. Instead of taking to Toji like he normally does, he crawled into your arms. Toji had never felt so damn proud and slighted at the same time.

"I should get going. Give me a sign though.. Something that tells me you approve." He finished his visit with his wife, and he went home.

*** *** ***

That night at dinner, Megumi sped into the kitchen with an action figure in his hand. He was pretending to be Batman. "Gumi, I've told you three times. Stop running." You said as you gave the small child a look. Toji smirked as he knew that look good and well. It was the look a mom gave as a warning. Megumi was on his last warning.

"I'm sorry, mama." Megumi apologized, causing for both you and Toji to freeze right in your tracks. Megumi had never called you mama before. He always said your name.

Your heart swelled in your chest. It was a feeling of affection and guilt. "Oh no... baby.." You said softly as you took his hand. You lead him into the living room, and you crouched down, showing him a picture of his mom to him. "That's mama." You gently corrected him.

Toji watched the scene like a hawk from the dinner table. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never been shy about telling Megumi who his mom was, but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about how his mom passed away when he was a small baby.

Megumi pointed at the picture. "Mama." He said quietly. You nodded and patted his head.

"That's right." You praised affectionately. He then turned his attention to you. and he poked your chest with his tiny finger.

"Mama." He said, pointing at you.

"No-"

"It's alright." Toji spoke up from his seat at the dinner table.

"I don't want him to be confused..." You replied as you slowly stood back up, looking at Toji.

"He doesn't sound confused to me." He retorted with a small grin. You turned your attention back to Megumi, and Toji looked up towards the ceiling. "Thank you." He muttered so quietly before kissing the necklace that hung around his neck. He had his wife's blessing. This proved it.

After finishing his dinner, Toji joined you two in the living room. You and Megumi were curled up on each side of his while watching that old X-Men cartoon. Suddenly, Megumi rose from the couch. You and Toji watched him with a hint of confusion.

"What is he doing?" You softly asked Toji as Megumi bent over, and he looked between his legs at both you and Toji.

"I have no fucking id-" He was about to respond, but then, it hit him. "Get up." He said as he stood up from the couch. He quickly grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet like a madman.

"What? What? Is something wrong?" You asked as you had never seen Toji move this fast. You quickly got up too.

"Nothing's wrong. Come on. We're going to the store." He grunted as he swooped Megumi into his arms.

You were confused and in denial when Toji bought a pregnancy test and made you take it. Now, both of you were waiting outside of the bathroom for the five minutes to be over. "This is crazy, Toji. I'm not pregnant."

"It's an old wives' tale. When babies do that, it's supposed to mean their looking for their sibling." Toji said with a nonchalant shrug as if what he said was matter-of-fact. "My mother told me that's how she knew she was pregnant with me."

The timer went off on his phone, and both of you fought to get into the bathroom first. He eventually overpowered you and snatched the pregnancy test off the counter quickly. "Oh." He said quietly. The room went still.

Suddenly, your heart was racing. "What is it? Is it negative?" You asked a hint of disappointment hit you. You didn't know why, but a small part of you hoped for it to be positive.

"Oh, you're fucking getting it tonight." Toji smirked as he turned the pregnancy test over. Two pink lines were clear as day on the test. You're pregnant.

Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby

[py-dreamer]

Oh! It's Mac(aroni)-learns-the-consequences-for his-actions o'clock!: the AU

To my marshiemallows who saw my other post, no this isn't the part two I was talking about

(it's coming dw! ...I am going to roast those fics over a pit like a rotisserie chicken...)

but this is some more Ma-caca slander so if you're into that...

"get in loser we're going to yell into some all hearing (but terrible at listening) ears"

(DISCLAIMER: I do enjoy Macaque as a character, he is well written in the show imo

This is a call-out to those who think he's just a victim and excuse his crimes in the show, in lore and make him the "uwu soft boi who needs to be protected at all cost who everyone loves including all of Wukong's subjects apparently"

and make Wukong the "selfish narcissist who's a lazy good for nothing, a monster who killed Mac for funsies then cried for centuries afterward without his waifu, doesn't deserve anything good, everyone hates him for good reason, he kills puppies on a daily bas-"

yea you get the point)

I know there're some AUs where there's an artifact that can change time or transport you into a different dimension

Yea so y'know what, let Macaque get his hands on one of them, mid battle with the monkie kids.

They tell him to calm down and give the artifact back but Mac gets pissy about an earlier conversation with Wukong.

About how he made a shrine to honor his pilgrim brothers and Mac gets mad.

He tells Wukong that it's been centuries since they've died so why doesn't he let them go and Wukong of course gets pissed too.

Then Mac-aroni bursts at him why there was nothing for the brotherhood or DBK when he sealed him or when he died

He adds some extra insults for flavor then leaves (as usual) without giving the monkey king to give his perspective and cuss him out

Back to the present, Mac decides to alter the timeline just a wee bit...

"Tang Sanzang was killed by the six eared Macaque during their first encounter"

Then we see this new world...but it's not all happy like Macaque hoped

First off, the journey was to retrieve holy scriptures from India which would help to cleanse the east apparently. But it was also because of the journey a lot of corruption was stopped (eg slow cart kingdom with its policy on Buddhism, kingdom of women and the demon guarding the abortion spring, the demon who overthrew the black river god, kidnappings in general)

So yea if it was cut short, a lot of that corruption would still be in power.

With most of the human population being overtaken by humans or corrupt kings or busy being eaten or courtnapped, yea society could not evolve. It stays mostly stagnant, so a lot of technology hasn't been invented yet and most humans (particularly lower class) are doing worse for wear.

But it wasn't his fault; it was the society and humans for being to weak to upturn itself.

Mac sees them, doesn't really care and goes off to find Wukong because hey, he's curious

However he finds the Camel Ridge trio instead and we know what kinda happened in that town.

The surrounding area is dry and barren because all the life is being sucked out of it. Heck, its probably even more arid cause the trio's reign has lasted for centuries.

They all welcome Macaque with open arms asking him where he's been and they haven't heard of him since the monk's murder.

The trio thank Mac since they heard how the monk had Wukong on a leash and how he was no more than a guard dog and they were worried that he'd make the monkey king reign his wrath on the city if they ever crossed and without him, the journey never continued and there was no encounter

He's disturbed by the friends he once loathed and fought welcoming him with open arms and owed their success to his actions.

But it wasn't his fault for their corruption, it was their city and their choices, someway or another karma will get them probably...maybe...

Since without the journey, the brotherhood never would've ended up in the ink scrolls

"Its a shame Wukong and Brother Bull can't join us"

Mac asks what they mean and where DBK was.

He learns the demon bull family were in mourning.

You see, without the pilgrims and more importantly, Sanzang and Wukong present, the sealing of the samahdi fire probably wouldn't have went the same.

They couldn't find anyone available who'd survive the flames so DBK, PIF and Nezha had to try it themselves...and were sadly unsucessful

The infant's power caused mass destruction, many deaths, injured both his parents greatly...

...and ultimately led the child to an early grave.

Leaving the clan and couple devastated for years to come.

But it still wasn't his fault: it was just due to unfortunate circumstances!

Macaque, disturbed by this leaves without saying goodbye, goes to flower fruit mountain to check on its status. Since without having to continue the journey, surely the monkey king would be basking in the sun with his subjects happily gorging themselves on fruit-

Only he comes back to a total wasteland.

As a consequence of letting the monk be killed and failing his chance at redemption, heaven punished Sun Wukong and he was never seen again (much to Mac's surprise).

But not only that, it seemed the gods took their rage out on Flower fruit mountain as well. This was the 2nd time it was burned but now they made sure to finish the job, every last tree engulfed in flames.

Without the monkey king coming back to save them, all the inhabitants were at risk of the burning and any left who fled to the mainland were captured and sold, starved or hunted and eaten. There were no survivors.

Upset by his discovery, Macaque was filled with rage at the king. How dare he not take care of their home, he failed as a friend but now as a king too. So he snuck into heaven to find out his location to find answers and yell at him.

It wasn't his fault their home was destroyed. That was Wukong's duty as king! He failed his subjects and he must pay

A tear filled Macaque snuffs through heaven's files as even he couldn't find the location of Sun Wukong's prison.

He learns that Nezha after failing to seal the fire, got terribly burned in the process probably crippling him and causing mass destruction to many nearby towns and minor gods had been cast out of heaven.

Some of the guilt started weighing in on him but he put that aside, because of course it wasn't his fault; the god was just too weak and shouldn't have stuck his nose into other's business.

And finally, the main course we've all been waiting for: confronting Wukong.

He's back under 5 phases mountain but this time with many more locks and security cautions. Macaque learns nobody had heard from the king in a 1000 years.

He finds the king and screams at him that it was his fault how FFM was now a desolate dessert devoid of life.

But to his surprise, the king laughs.

The king laughs maniacally, practically howling with laughter but with crazed eyes like a madman.

"I assume you'll blame me for 'abandoning' you too?"

He rips into Macaque about how they always swore to stay by each others side but the moment things get ugly Mac will always save his skin. And asks where was he for him through all this.

Not during the battle vs heaven.

Not during his trials.

Not during his imprisonment.

Not when he asked him to go back and leave the pilgrims alone.

Not when heaven pointed fingers at him that the monk's murder was his fault.

Not when FFM was destroyed and Wukong didn't learn until some heavenly officials told him years later as they fed him metal pellets and molten iron.

Even now, the only reason he came was to complain.

(I imagine a lil conversation to go like this:

Macaque: They abused you! They didn't free you!!

Wukong: WELL NEITHER DID YOU!!!!

Macaque:...

Wukong:...neither did you...)

Then Mac decides to ask what the pilgrims did afterward and bet they all ran off too...how wrong he was

(Macaque: Then where are your 'pilgrim' brothers now? Why aren't they here to help you the-

Wukong: they're gone

Macaque: what..?

Wukong: They're gone...They're gone...gone...DID YOU NOT HEAR ME? ARE YOU DEAF? I SAID THEY'RE GONE!!!

Macaque: but how...

Wukong: after you fled the scene, the heavenly officials came to detain me....hahahah...I was caught in that diamond snare again and Ao Lie jumped in to defend me.

Macaque: but I thought...

Wukong: I was so distraught, I couldn't do anything...They said that it was also their fault master was dead so they'd better stay quiet if they wanted to lessen their sentence....hahahah...I watched them all die one by one Macaque...

Macaque:...

Wukong:...they all defended me...even the goddamn pig... And do you know where that lead them? They all died...Liu'er...they're dead...I WATCHED MY BROTHERS DIE IN FRONT OF ME FOR DEFENDING ME...I DID NOTHING LIU'ER...DO YOU KNOW WHERE AZURE AND THE OTHERS ARE NOW? I'M SURE THEY'RE PARTYING AND LEAVING ME TO ROT. MEANWHILE MY BROTHERS GAVE THEIR LIVES FOR A USELESS MONKEY. I COULDN'T EVEN PROTECT MY SUBJECTS...OR SANZANG...THE GREAT SAGE EQUAL TO HEAVEN CAN'T EVEN PROTECT A SINGLE HUMAN...ALL THAT TIME, TRAINING, USELESS!! SO SURE...BLAME ME ALL YOU WANT BECAUSE I DESERVE IT AT THIS POINT!!!! COME ON!!!!

Macaque: God, you've really gone mad...)

I want this man to meet his inner demons or someone able to slap him around to just really remind him of the consequences to his actions maybe some ink scroll action.

Just basically:

And maybe if I'm feeling nice we get a happy ending, Mac reverses the spell or something and perhaps says something nice to Wukong for once.

If anyone has any thoughts or suggestions on how the timeline would change, do tell I'm curious to hear your thoughts.

@furornocturna might be reminding Mac-adoodledoo of his crimes to the monkie kids in the present but I'm taking him for a roadtrip to the past

(or other present...time travel is complicated y'all)

(Again I recommend 'Fractured pieces make a mosaic' on Ao3.

I shall call them my partner in crime for Mac-caca bullying if they shall so let me have the honors...also @nightmarebunnyking...they also do good slander

No I will not stop advertising their work. Cause it's good outside of the slander, Wukong is very affectionate, we love that for him and MK collects dads like pokemon cards

also kinda want opinions on more ole'Mac-doodle had denial. E I E I O

I propose we gather in a circle and beat him with a stick

...pls interact its 1 am rn)

Also fun fact this is my 2001st post so uhh...yay..?

[kaiser1ns]

#. IT SUITS YOU . . . !

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, takiishi chika togame jo, kaji ren, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, sakura haruka, endo yamato

fluff. he thought there was no other way to make him love you more until he saw you in his clothes.

UMEMIYA HAJIME

It was unbearably hot outside, so you and Umemiya decided to spend the day indoors, lounging on the couch and eating ice cream while watching some random show on Netflix. You thank the people who decided to create the air conditioning, and the ice cream felt heavenly against your tongue.

Halfway through the second episode, you managed to get a dollop of ice cream on your shirt. "Ugh, I'll be right back," you said, heading to the bedroom to change.

You rummaged through your drawers but couldn't find anything, then you stopped at a very interesting design as you grabbed one of Umemiya's shirts from the closet. It was soft and smelled like him, instantly making you feel cozy.

When you returned to the living room, you saw Umemiya's eyes widen and his jaw drop. In his shock, he accidentally let go of his ice cream, which fell to the ground with a splat.

"Ume, what was that for?" you asked, grabbing a wipe to clean up the mess.

It was strangely quiet, and when you looked up, you saw him staring at you with heart eyes, a blush spreading across his cheeks, and a huge, adoring smile on his face. His hand was clutching his chest dramatically.

"PUMPKIN, YOU ARE SO CUTE!" he screamed, fangirling, waving his imaginary tail like a little puppy. The sight was absolutely adorable. He started to pull off his own t-shirt, "PLEASE PUT THIS ONE!" You laughed and stopped him, "Another time, baby."

Days later, you were doing the laundry and noticed most of the clothes in the basket were Umemiya's. Little did you know, he had secretly left most of his shirts in your wardrobe during his sleepovers. But that was a secret, a sweet gesture of his love that you didn't need to know about.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

You woke up early on a lazy Sunday morning, the sun just beginning to filter through the curtains as you stroll into the kitchen, trying to find something to eat while dressed in your boyfriend's shirt that somehow became your pajama. The faint scent of his cologne that still lingers on was very comforting and calming, it made you more lovesick.

Takiishi, still half-asleep, shuffles into the kitchen, wondering why did you left. His hair is tousled and his eyes are still heavy with sleep, but when he sees you standing by the counter in his shirt ... he doesn't say anything per usual, as he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. It's his shirt, the one you brought, not Endo. His warmth envelops you, and you can feel his steady heartbeat against your back. Despite just waking up, he finds peace, feeling so comfortable that he can drift back to sleep.

"You'd make a good teddy bear," you tease gently, turning in his embrace to face him. His expression is as calm as ever, but you can't help but notice the small smile that he tried to hide. "My pillow disappeared," he murmurs, his voice still husky with sleep. Well, of course, you are his personal pillow and blanket, but you didn't mind that at all.

With a groan, you realize you'll have to bring him back to bed. Gently, you guide him out of the kitchen, his arms still loosely around you playing with the shirt, as you lead him down the hallway. He leans on you heavily, his steps slow and relaxed, completely trusting you to guide him to where he can rest again.

As you reach the bedroom, he stirs slightly, murmuring a soft thank you against your neck. You can't help but smile at his sleepy self, carefully helping him settle into bed. He snuggles under the covers, pulling you close so you're curled up against his chest and he will always be close to you either with his arms around your body or with his shirt on you.

TOGAME JO

You really wanted to go to the store, and so you did, grabbing the first jacket you saw on your way out. It was a bit oversized, and you didn't think much about it. When you returned home, you were met with a scene of mild chaos. Your boyfriend, Togame Jo, had turned the house upside down.

"Jo, what are you doing?" you asked, taking off your shoes and looking at the scattered items.

"I can't find my Shishitoren jacke—" He paused mid-sentence, turning to look at you. There you were, standing in the doorway, wearing the very jacket he was searching for. A soft smile spread across his face. "It looks good on you, doll."

Realization dawned on you. You had grabbed his jacket by mistake. Well, you wouldn't lie—you did look pretty good in it. "I'm sorry, I'll take it off," you said, starting to remove it. Togame made a slow, dismissive gesture with his hand. "No, no. Keep it on."

"But don't you need it right now?" you asked, puzzled. "Won't Choji complain because—"

He cut you off with a teasing grin, "They already know who I am. Wear it so they know who that jacket belongs to."

Your heart fluttered at his words. Snuggling into the jacket, you smiled back at him, feeling a warm sense of belonging. Togame stepped closer, wrapping an arm around you.

"Besides," he whispered, "you make it look way better than I ever could."

KAJI REN

Kaji seemed to like hoodies, no he loved hoodies. And he especially loved when you wore them. The sight of you, cozy and snug in his oversized clothing, always made him somehow melt. But now, as he stood shivering at the bus stop, he started to regret his choice of giving you his favorite one. After all, it was cold, and you had forgotten to bring something warmer, leaving him only in his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Ren," you said softly, guilty as you glanced at him. Your boyfriend stood there, his arms wrapped around himself, his breath visible in the chilly air. The bus wouldn’t be here for another 30 minutes, and you could see he was freezing.

He wasn’t that mad, just a little bit, a tiny little bit. But he preferred you to be warm and safe, so when boyfriend duty called, he answered. With a small sigh, you snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso, hoping the soft material of the hoodie would warm him up. His initial shiver softened as he felt your embrace, and he glanced down at you.

"Please don't be mad at me," you pleaded, looking up at him with those big, apologetic eyes.

"I am not," he replied, shaking his head. "Just next time, wear one of my hoodies or put something with sleeves," he sounded calm, well his other senses didn't work that well when freezing, as you hummed in response, pressing yourself closer to him as a way to share whatever warmth you could muster.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bus arrived. As you both climbed aboard and found a seat. The heater was a blessing, and you leaned into Kaji, feeling him gradually warm up. He wasn’t mad, but you noticed the sniffles starting the next morning.

Now, as he lays on the couch, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by tissues, you felt even more guilty. Kaji has come down with a cold, and you are taking care of him. You brought him hot tea, fluffed his pillows, and made sure he had everything he needed.

"Ren, I'm so sorry," you said again, placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. He looked up at you, his eyes a bit glassy but still filled with affection. And you knew that he would rather be sick than have you catch a cold.

SUO HAYATO

As you finish the final touches in front of the mirror, you can't help but feel a bit nervous. The smooth white silk of the changshan glides against your skin, as you admire how the elegant fabric hugs your form, the intricate patterns catching the light just so. Suo's appreciation for Chinese-styled fashion has always intrigued you, and today, you decided to surprise him by matching his style.

A quick glance at your phone reminds you that Suo is waiting outside, though he texted you saying he’d be there for a while, giving you more time to get ready. With a deep breath, you grab your bag and head out the door.

Stepping outside, you spot him immediately. Your boyfriend stands there, looking effortlessly handsome as always in his own changshan, and a smile playing on his lips. But as his eyes land on you, his expression shifts to one of pleasant surprise.

"Y/N?" he calls out, the amusement and admiration can be heard and seen as he takes a few steps closer, his gaze never leaving you. "Is that my changshan?"

You nod, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "I wanted to match with you today. Do you like it?" He chuckles, the sound warm and teasing. "Like it? You look amazing. But I must say, you pull it off better than I do."

"I just wanted to try it out. You always look so good in these, and I thought it might be fun." Suo reaches out, gently adjusting a strand of hair that had fallen out of place, his touch is warm, "Well, you certainly succeeded. But now I’m worried everyone will be looking at you instead of me."

You roll your eyes, knowing he's just teasing. "Oh, please. You know you always steal the spotlight." He grins, his hand holding yours as you start to walk together. "Maybe so, but today, you’re the star. I’m really happy you did this, Y/N. It means a lot."

The honesty in his voice makes your heart flutter. "I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate you. And maybe… steal some of your fashion secrets."

Suo chuckles, squeezing your hand. "Anytime, Y/N. You know, we could make this a regular thing. Matching outfits and all."

You smile, the idea sounding more and more appealing, "So I will see you wearing Hello Kitty pajama's?" and as you think about how cute he will look in pink pjs while you apply a face mask and watch movies, it makes your heart melt, and he just laughs softly. "Who am I to deny you?"

KIRYU MITSUKI for my pookie @heartkaji

You’ve borrowed his shirt for the day, its soft fabric with vibrant pastel colors and shapes, a comforting reminder of him, paired with your pink skirt and cute Converse sneakers. The combination makes you feel especially adorable, and you notice the admiring glances from your boyfriend who undoubtedly thinks the same.

Kiryu’s been quiet, his phone in hand more than usual. You’ve caught glimpses of him smiling subtly at the screen, making you assume he’s checking something interesting. Perhaps a new game or a video that caught his eye.

You find a cozy bench and settle down together, your head finding its familiar spot on his shoulder. The day has been perfect, and you close your eyes for a moment, to get a rest from all the walking. When you open them, you notice his phone gallery is open, the screen filled with so many photos.

You tilted your head for a better look. The gallery is full of pictures of you—captured candidly throughout the day. These aren’t just any blurry photos; they look professionally taken, each one perfectly framed and lit. Your heart skips a beat as you realize Kiryu’s secret. Blushing, you nudge him playfully.

"Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looks at you with that calm, gentle cat like smile that always makes your heart melt. “I didn’t want your facial expression to be forced for the picture only.”

His words make your cheeks flush even more. You feel an overwhelming rush of affection for this boy who loves you so deeply, capturing your natural moments with such care. Leaning up, you press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

Kiryu’s smile widens just a bit, and he pulls you closer. “And you’re beautiful. Wear my clothes more often, they suit you.”

ENDO YAMATO

Endo often went shopping with you, spoiling you with many bags that would pile up during your hangouts. You appreciated his generosity, but sometimes, the sheer number of bags was overwhelming.

Today, home alone, you found yourself rifling through Endo's closet. You slipped into one of his oversized shirts and a pair of his jeans, the latter needing a makeshift belt to stay up. To complete the look, you even drew some lines on your arms to replicate his intricate sleeve tattoos. Standing in front of the mirror, you struck a pose and imitated his voice, "I am Endo Yamato and I'm going to tell you some philosophy shit I don't understand myself." You couldn't help but giggle at your own 'cosplay'' if you can even call it one.

Unbeknownst to you, Endo had come home. He stepped into the room whistling, his phone held up and recording. You froze, eyes wide as you locked gazes with him. He was grinning ear to ear, clearly entertained, while you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

Before you could react, the makeshift belt gave way, and his jeans slipped down to the floor. Luckily, the oversized shirt and tank top you wore covered you just enough.

"You didn't see anything. Get out," you stammered, cheeks burning. Endo chuckled, the phone still capturing every moment. "Good impression, although, one note: you forgot to draw this tattoo," he said, pointing to a specific spot on his arm.

You grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. "I said get out!"

"Right, right," he replied, backing out of the room with a mischievous smile. "But don't beg me to delete the video; you were so cute."

You groaned, knowing you were in for a relentless teasing. "Endo, I swear, if you don't stop…"

But his laughter was already echoing through the hallway, leaving you to change and try to remove the tattoos you drew with a permanent marker. It can't get any worse than this, can it?

SAKURA HARUKA

The sky was clear when you and Sakura set out to run errands for Kotoha, but halfway through your way to the store, the heavens opened up, and a heavy rain began to pour. You dashed for cover, but it was too late. Your white blouse quickly became soaked, clinging to your skin, making you aware of how exposed you felt. With your hands crossed in front of your chest, you glanced over at Sakura.

He was blushing furiously, doing his best not to look directly at you. His eyes darted nervously, and then he shrugged off his jacket. Holding it out to you, he kept his head turned away, the redness creeping up his neck and ears to the tip of his fingers. "H-here," he stammered, his voice soft and gentle.

"Thank you," you said, taking the jacket from his trembling hands. You slipped it on, the warmth from his body still lingering in the fabric. Sakura's scent enveloped you, and you could see him stealing a few glances, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. It was clear he was trying hard to keep his composure.

You stepped closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest. Standing on your toes, you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'll return it tomorrow if it's not a problem."

Sakura.exe had officially stopped working. He stood frozen, eyes wide and lips slightly parted, unable to process what just happened. His cheeks were burning, not from the cold rain but from your touch. "Sure, keep it, yeah," he finally managed to say, his voice shaky.

You laughed softly at his reaction, making a mental note to treat him to something nice next time as a thank you. The rain stopped after not too long, but you were still with his jacket on, and he didn't mind at all. Sakura will probably make you run in the rain again, or do anything else, just to have an excuse to give you the jacket.

BONUS !

KOTOHA + TSUBAKI using he/him for tsubaki

Guess what time it is? It’s the casual Girl’s Night that occurs on most Fridays. Tonight, you, Kotoha, and Tsubaki are at Tsubaki's house for a sleepover, and the evening is already filled with gossip and laughter. The three of you sit on the living room floor, painting your nails in bright, fun colors while a horror movie plays in the background. You all giggle at the ridiculous actions of the main characters, the jump scares only adding to the fun.

Soon, the nail polish is drying, and you move on to your next activity: karaoke. The living room transforms into your stage as you each take turns singing loudly, the music echoing through the house. Your voices blend together in a chorus of joy, rockstars quite literally.

After the concert, it’s time for the fashion show. You rummage through Tsubaki's closet, matching your clothes with pieces from Kotoha's and Tsubaki's collections. With a dramatic flair, Tsubaki sets up the "runway" in the hallway, grabbing a flashlight to act as the spotlight.

"Lights, camera, action!" Tsubaki shouts, and you begin your strut down the hallway, feeling like a top model. Tsubaki's enthusiasm is infectious as he cheer, "You are so beautiful, Y/N-chan! I knew that skirt would suit you!"

Kotoha's eyes light up with admiration as she sees how her makeup looks on you. "You look stunning, Y/N," she says, her smile genuine and warm, clapping her hands.

The three of you take turns walking the runway, posing and twirling as you go. Tsubaki snaps photos, capturing every glamorous moment. Once satisfied, you all crowd around his phone, reviewing the photos and choosing the best ones to post on your socials.

Just as you hit "post," your phones buzz with notifications. The Bofurin group chat, which is 99% boys, suddenly goes crazy when Tsubaki sends a video of your model walk. Messages flood in, filled with surprised reactions and compliments.

"Is that Y/N?" Tsubaki reads Hiragi's message. "SO CUTE!" Umemiya added, and for some reason, Sakura sent a thumbs-up emoji, don't judge him, he is still learning to use a phone properly.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[secretlovezz]

Simon with an s/o who has a cat

Prt.2 here! <-

He hates your cat 😭

Their literally mortal enemies it's ridiculous

The cat glares at Simon 24/7 and he stares right back

You finally make it home after a stressful day at work ready to shower and relax. You open the front door and call out, "I'm home!" You get no response. It makes your brows furrow in confusion, having been used to a little furry friend lying on your unused shoes waiting for you to get home or hearing the heavy steps of your boyfriend making his way toward you. But today there was no welcome wagon for you.

Your heart immediately racks in worry the once steady beat of it moving to an unnaturally quick pace. Your hands move faster to remove your shoes and jacket wanting to look for the person and cat that once populated your apartment.

You call out again, "Simon? My Baby?"

"In here, dove." At the sound of your lover's voice, you're on the move heading to where his voice had been most prominent.

When you get to Simon- in the bathroom -he's clad in only a towel water still dripping from his hair and body and condensation on the mirror signifying he's just gotten out of the shower. Then your gaze goes to his face and his eyes aren't on you they're focused on something on the counter.

Your cat.

They're staring at each other both of them refusing to look away from one another. They were barely blinking. Then you realize why Simon's having a glaring contest with your pet, it's because the cat was on his clothes refusing to move out of pure stubbornness.

Suddenly you're glaring at the both of them too, "Are you guys being serious right now? This is getting ridiculous," you tell them and with Simon's response you roll your eyes and walk away.

"Oh, this is deadly serious, love"

Sometimes when Simon walks by your cat it latches onto Simon's leg kicking and biting the shit out of him (your poor boyfriend is just about ready to chuck the cat into outer space)

Your little fur baby definitely steals or tries to steal food from Simon's plates. Simon swears the cat gets stronger when determined to get into his stuff

Simon's cups have been knocked off of tables more often then not being left to clean up a mess that isn't his

Your looking up from your plate of food as soon as you hear grumbles and silverware clanking roughly against a porcelain plate. You smile a little at the sight in front of you. Simon's pushing your cats head back away from his food, while the cat uses all of his strength. Simon's scowl at the animal only gets deeper when he sees you smile at his unfortunate situation.

"You better not be smilin'," He says annoyance clear in his tone.

Now your laughing, a sound simon usually adores, one that makes his body relax, one that makes him feel safe, but now it has him clenching his jaw and has his eyebrows furrowed.

"Make 'im stop," He growls.

You pretent to think about it for a moment, pointer finger tapping your chin in faux thought, "I don't know si... this is thoroughly entertaining. What's in it for me if I help you?" The vein on his arm looked like it might burst at your question.

"If you don't get this dammed cat away from me it's gonna go missin'," you roll your eyes at his dramatics but called your cat to you regardless.

When you cuddle with one of them the other gets sooooo jealous

Simon will literally toss your little baby off the bed

The cat hits and claws for simon to get away from you

(Your constantly having to scold them its like having two children)

These two will argue with each other Simon's voice is stern its how you imagine he talks to new recruits and your cat is meowing loudly at him clearing cussing him tf out

Groggily peeling open your crused eyes open but quickly closing them as the bright morning sun peeked through your bedroom window you start to awaken. You rubbed into your eyes with the back of your fist before opening them again moving to look at the clock on the bedside table.

11:23

You slept in, or really someone let you sleep in because to your right your boyfriend seemed to have long since left the bed leaving the side he usually accompanied empty and cold.

You stretched and groaned the sheets and blankets moved with you weird groans and grunts leaving your yawning mouth as your joints crackled and popped. You sat up in bed still drowsy with sleep barley aware of your surroundings but still you gripped the enormous blanket and wrapped it around yourself as an act to shield the breezy-ness of the winter weather that leaked into your apartment.

Mreeeooow!

Your head whips to the door at the loud sound. Your cat was talkative but he was never very loud about him. This time the usual cute sound was replaced with an almost screech that made you cringe.

You take a deep breath before standing up and making your way to your room door. Once you open it the sounds of your cat get louder and now you can hear Simon too. His voice is booming but isn't loud it's stern and serious but filled with frustration and anger.

As you walk down the hall to the living area your duvet drag behind you on the floor. The floor creaks and groans under your feet alerting the two others in your home. Both their heads snap towards you. Your little baby's ears are pinned back in airplane mode and his pupils are dilated. Your big baby has his nose scrunched and lips downturned into a frown.

Your voice is laced with tiredness and a little deeper than it normally is, "What are you two arguing about this time?" The back of your hand is rubbing one of your eyes again as you speak.

"The little fucker is bein' disrespectful, he's not listenin' to me."

The cat meows loudly in response to Simon seeming trying to say he was lying.

You sigh and move to pick your cat up, he turns to putty in your arms and nuzzles his head against your chin. You walk towards Simon now. Leaning into him and humming contently when he wrapped his arms around you and the little one in your arms pretending to be annoyed but fully relaxing against your body.

[lixie-phoria]

summer sun forever (stray kids comforting their 9th member!reader)

pairing : platonic stray kids x fem!9th member reader

requested : yes

warnings - mentions of blood, description of poor parenting (lmk if i've missed any!)

genre - angst to comfort

jeongin thought it was normal, the way you would sit alone during group discussions giving your input only when asked directly.

seungmin though it was a habit, the way you would immediately pinch yourself if you made a mistake.

felix thought it was out of good nature that you would constantly appreciate his sunshine-like personality and inability to be mad for longer than a few moments.

han thought it was adorable, the way you would cover your smile while laughing at one of his jokes, trying to hold back any laugh that was louder than a giggle.

hyunjin thought it was just your strive for perfection that you would spend hours more than the other boys trying to perfect your choreographies, scared to mess up.

changbin thought it was a personal preference, the way you'd always dress up in lose clothing, rejecting anything that was too fitting.

lee know thought it was impressive, the way you could recognize any member just from his footsteps approaching your room or the way you always left one ear uncovered when using headphones.

but chan knew. or he thought he did, at least. maybe it was brotherly instincts kicking in, but he knew these habits weren't healthy. far from it. it concerned him, but he didn't know how to approach you either.

his concerns were triggered for the first time when you dropped a glass at the dorms, sharp shards scattering everywhere. you didn't notice him rush to help you as he stopped dead in the doorway of the kitchen, watching you pick up the broken pieces with bare hands. he saw the way your hands were trembling and how a particularly tricky piece sliced right through your skin, blood oozing out. you didn't even flinch, sparing the cut a small glance before you went back to cleaning the floor. you didn't bother trying to disinfect it, opting to only run it under the tap and wiping it away with a few tissues. then you crumpled them up, making sure the members wouldn't notice the red on the paper and went about your day as usual. chan waited, patiently, expecting you to bring up the injury to anyone, but you didn't, so he thought maybe it was just a small cut. maybe it was just a small wound, after all.

you would tell them if you were really hurt, right?

the second time chan notices something wrong is when you hit your upper arm at the edge of the table during dinner. it had hurt, that much he knew from the way you yelped and rubbed the sore spot. he had laughed at your clumsiness with the others as you smiled sheepishly, ducking your head and running away to your room to do who knows what. he thought he saw tears in your eyes, but you didn't mention the bruise again, so they all thought you were okay.

but chan's breaking point was when stays themselves noticed something was wrong. he was scrolling through instagram when a particular reel caught his attention. it was of their dance performance, and the fan had zoomed into your figure - specifically your upper arm - and the large reddish blue spot was so strikingly evident it took him three rewatches to make sure it was not an edit. how had any of them missed it? then another reel came up, and it was you wincing slightly as lee know jokingly shook your hand, the same one you had cut while cleaning the glass. and it's like the pieces immediately fall into place.

chan doesn't think twice. before he knows it he's out of his room and walking (more like storming) towards yours, and he doesn't bother knocking. but even then, you had been expecting him, because you're staring at the door with a small smile on your face.

"i heard you coming. is everything ok?"

it's the first time your keen observation skills concern him, but he doesn't answer, instead striding towards you and lifting your arm despite your complaints. when his eyes zero-in on the bruise that you had expertly been concealing, he sees red. he isn't sure why he's angry. it's not your fault. but he is mad, and he couldn't control it.

of course you could see it on his face, and it's like you go into auto pilot mode, snatching your arm back and immediately apologizing, making excuses that fly straight out of his ears. he tries to hold back, he really does, but he can't. and before he can stop, the damage is done.

"don't bother. you clearly don't trust us enough anymore."

in hindsight, that was probably the worst thing chan could have said to you. blaming you would only worsen things, but he's so confused and disappointed in himself. he didn't know what kept you on the edge so often, and it hurt him that you wouldn't open up.

and thus the apparent cold war began.

you weren't mad. no. far from that. you were terrified. you had disappointed chan, the one person who made you feel safe always. the one person you knew you could go to with anything. but you chose not to, and now maybe you never will be able to. and it was like you were a teenager again, crying yourself to sleep every night, cautious of every word you spoke, and jumping at the slightest raised voice.

chan wasn't mad either. he was confused. he was hurt, a little bit. and he regretted the words he had carelessly spat out. it clearly hadn't been the right approach and now it hurt him to see the way you would tense whenever he stepped into the room, not making eye-contact and apologizing profusely to everybody for the smallest mistakes.

he thought giving you space was the best option for now. but in hindsight, that was a terrible decision too. he didn't realize how angry he was coming off as. he didn't know that not just you but all the members thought he was giving you the silent treatment. and for you, that hit too close to home. literally.

"ynnie, do you want some more soup?"

felix is met with a timid yes as he happily pours you another serving. but even his bubbly smile couldn't diffuse the obvious tension in the atmosphere. the other 7 didn't know the details of what had happened. chan knew you would want to tell them yourself if you told them at all, but they knew it was bad. because now you barely smiled and chan always seemed tense.

"and salt?"

again, you only nod, reaching towards the jar he was offering, when it happens. all of a sudden. jeongin's arm brushes yours, and as his elbow pushes into your bruise, you yelp, the lid falling to the floor with a loud shattering sound.

the silence that follows immediately after is loud, and everyone notices the way you go completely still. unnaturally still, as though waiting for someone to yell at you. lee know recovers first, and as he bends down to pick up the fallen object, you flinch, and their hearts collectively shatter.

what was the matter with you lately?

before they know it, you're gulping the steaming hot soup down, hurriedly apologizing and making a bee line for your room. but this time, everyone can see the tears brimming your waterline.

nobody gets up, but nobody eats anymore either. the silence only intensifies until chan groans, burring his face in his hands.

"hey lix, you mind checking up on her? i don't think she's doing very well."

the blonde boy doesn't need to be told twice. he's making his way towards your room and when he enters, the floor slides from beneath him. you're curled up in your bed, trying to muffle your sobs that wrack through your body.

when you see him come in, your first instinct is to hide. to not show. but it's too late, because he's rushing towards you, embracing you in the warmest hug. its comforting, in a way you have never felt before, and that only spirals your break down further.

felix doesn't know what to do or say. he doesn't know what happened. he doesn't know what could make you feel better, but it's so incredibly heart breaking the way you curl up into yourself as though trying to reject any help that it brings tears into his own eyes.

it isn't long before the others come following, and when chan sees you it's like a part of him dies. you look so small, so hurt, so breakable. and deep down, he knows this could have been avoided if he'd thought twice before lashing out at you.

"yn."

his voice is soft, and when you notice him you're scrambling out of felix's grasp, and he almost thinks you're trying to get way from him. but then you're throwing yourself into his arms with apologies tumbling out along with your sobs. he tries to calm you down, running a hand through your hair, but you're inconsolable. they have never seen you cry like this before.

"calm down, angel. please. talk to me."

it's the first time chan has spoken to you in more than a week, and you hadn't realized how much you had missed it. how much his silence had been affecting you.

"please don't be mad at me." you whimper as chan guides you sit on your bed, the other 7 hovering around unsure of what to do but concern reflecting in each of their eyes.

"mad? i'm not mad, ynnie. i'm concerned."

his words come as a shock.

he's concerned?

"but i'm crying."

"that's exactly why i'm concerned."

"oh."

you've never heard these words before. you never thought you would. growing up, showing emotions was a big no. crying was almost a taboo. showing emotions was for the weak, as your parents would say. they didn't wish to raise a weak daughter. nobody ever showed you concern. it was either anger or silence.

you've run out of tears, but dry sobs still shake your body every few seconds as chan holds you closer, motioning for the rest to sit down.

"do you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head. no. you were bad at talking about your feelings. they didn't have to know. it's not that important.

"you have to open up at some point, yn."

"i don't want to burden you guys."

"burden us?"

even seungmin, who usually stays expressionless during conflicts, seems appalled.

"yn, your emotions are not a burden."

"that's not what mum used to say."

you didn't mean to say it out loud, but it slips from your mouth and they all seem to have heard it.

chan's grip on you tightens. none of them knew much about your family. you didn't like talking about it. now it was slowly coming to them exactly why this preference could be.

"you can trust us, you know? we want to be there for you."

"i do trust you."

"then why won't you tell us what's wrong."

"don't want to annoy you any further."

the guilt gnaws at chan as felix pulls you away from his grasp, snuggling you into his side.

"yn, i wasn't mad. i was trying to give you space."

"i thought you were ignoring me." and in a smaller voice you reluctantly add "like my parents used to. everytime they were mad."

even han is somewhat misty eyed as felix runs calming circles against your upper arm.

"we would never give you the silent treatment."

"yeah! we love you way too much for that."

"is that why you're so closed off?"

"changbin! you can't just ask her that."

you giggle tiredly, earning a small smile from chan.

"it's alright. i'm glad you asked binnie. i think i'm ready to tell you guys."

they're all attentively waiting, and you shift uncomfortably. you never thought you would have this conversation.

"growing up, my parents didn't encourage me to express myself very much. i wasn't allowed to make mistakes, and if i did, they would give me the silent treatment for days on end. i hated it."

your voice is so small and fragile it breaks their hearts a little more.

"i've gone weeks trying to get my mother to speak to me normally. to act like she cared. but she'd always be so cold, insistent on punishing me for every little thing."

"and-" your voice broke, making hyunjin join felix in smothering you with cuddles.

"take your time, yn."

you hum, closing your eyes to stop the fresh wave of tears.

"and when chan stopped talking to me, i felt terrible. i thought i disappointed him too."

there was no more place, but chan joins the tangle of you, felix, and hyunjin as well, rubbing a soothing hand on your back.

"i'm so sorry i made you feel that way ynnie. i had no idea."

"it's not your fault," you admit, leaning into his chest.

"are we good now?"

"i hope so."

chan lets out that breathy laugh of his which you've grown to love over the years.

"don't ever hide your feelings from us, ynnie. you're a part of us. we don't want to see you hurting."

felix bops your nose as you smile, and it's all so corny and sweet, but it's also exactly what you need.

"now can we please have a movie night?"

"yah! jeongin. give her some time."

"no no, i'd actually love that. please?"

they're all ready to do whatever you want. it warms your heart and you almost cry again. nobody ever did this for you. you learned to think you didn't deserve it.

but here these 8 boys were, scrambling around trying to a build you a pillow fort and searching the shelves for snacks, yelling at each other across the house.

and as you're sitting there, you think that this could be your favorite site. they could be your favorite people. this could be your favorite memory. this feeling of being at home could be your favorite forever.

©lixie-phoria, 2023 taglist : @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr (send an ask to be added/removed)

[konigsblog]

how's breakfast/lunch/dinner with farmer könig around the table? (maybe with his twins babies too). are they quiet or loud? talk abt what to do today etc etc??

farmer-könig headcannons... ☀️🌾🌽

könig spends the majority of his day outside in the searing hot sun, doing work on the field with the animals, which means that you do the cooking and cleaning. although you're not complaining, it's rewarding to see that chunky, large man crawl inside after a day of hard work, devouring two servings of your nutritious, calorific food.

while könig is eating, he'll spoon-feed one baby, while you feed the other. it's always pretty noisy, especially with the babies sweet giggles and könig making aeroplane noises to encourage them to eat their food. a mess is always left behind, but könig insists that he'll help you despite stinking of sweat and freshly cut grass from hours on the field.

breakfast is usually something fruity, something including strawberries (of course, könig's favourite fruit HAS to be included) or perhaps a traditional meal könig's mother had taught you how to make. he needs his breakfast, otherwise he's cranky and sluggish. if you don't eat breakfast, könig will be concerned until lunchtime rolls around. he might force you to drink a glass of orange juice in the morning so that you don't faint, even if you're not likely to faint.

lunch is something quick, like soup, or even a quick sandwich. sometimes könig will have both, wiping his mouth and kissing your cheeks, thanking you for the delicious meal. he works up an appetite out there.

dinner is always made with lots of love, even if it's something quick and easy, perhaps even something microwavable if you're poorly. könig needs lots of calories, so you'll make extra just for him. the majority of the time — if not all the time — könig will eat two, perhaps even three servings. if he doesn't, he'll it as leftovers for lunch the next day. :3

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 2: He's not yours to keep

genre: more angst than fluff, but I swear fluff is coming up next!

word count: 5562

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you are trying to make sense of all this mess, but it's time to learn that, sometimes, things are just messy and chaotic and you have to learn to look for the silver linings.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

author's note: I am absolutely over the moon with the response I've gotten on this series and I'm really thankful for all the love and support <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments!

You don’t usually dream. 

Well, actually, if you tell Spencer that, he will say that you’re wrong– you do dream, you just don’t remember it. It’s common, not really recalling the scenes your brain conjure, Spencer would say; it can be due to a series of factors including high levels of stress and poor sleep. He would then tell you to stay home for a day, read a good book, and drink one of his fancy teas Penelope got for him a long time ago. 

But the thing is, Spencer can’t really tell you any of it. 

Not when you seem to be avoiding him even inside his own home. 

It starts after you wake up still in his armchair, feeling exhausted and disgustingly sticky, you finally have a couple of moments to yourself. Spencer is still sleeping, and you’re actually surprised to see him stretched out on the couch– his tie is throw on his coffee table, the purple colour suddenly too bright in the dim apartment, but otherwise, still wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday. You don’t understand why he didn’t change into pyjamas, but then again, you don’t understand much of anything right now. 

So you go through the facts. 

One by one, you list them in your mind– and little by little it dawns on you just how bad this really is. It’s hard, conceptualising that this is reality; that you really do have a psychopath targeting you. It’s the kind of thing that you only saw in those TV shows you loved to binge on late night, the kind of thing you read on the newspaper, happening to other people, but never really you. Except, it is happening to you, and you are not sure what to do next. Do you just sit and wait for her to make a move? Do you continue to live your life normally? How? How are you supposed to ignore the fact that a, as Agent Hotchner had described her, ‘prolific serial killer’ might know who are?

“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself, head falling in your hands. The watch on your wrist, an old, analogue thing your mom had given you before you left New York, is pointing to a time you would never have been awake before. 5:23 in the morning. The sun is not even up yet and you have hours before you have to open the store, but then again, you have to clean the mess that was left behind due to your rushed departure from it. You wince, disgusted at the thought of having to clean old vomit from the floor, and disgusted with the bitter taste it left behind. Right now, you are a shell of a human being and you need to get yourself back together. 

You follow a familiar routine of recovery. It’s something you’ve done before and something you will surely have to do again, and it all starts with a simple list. 

Firstly, you need to get up. You need to stretch your legs, throw them to the side, and stand. You need to walk, remind your self that you can still make your own path even if it’s only to the bathroom down the hall. 

Then, you need to brush your teeth. The bitter taste stuck to your mouth makes you wince with memories that you want to bury. 

Showering would be your third step, but this is not your home. This is not your space, and these are not your things. 

A pettier side of you, one that is bothered and angry and irritated in a superficial level, wants to march back out to the living room, as loudly as you can, and shake Spencer away. You want to wake him up at the crack of dawn and make him share your torment, because in some level, even if you try to push against it, you blame him. Deep inside, you know that there is a big difference between the two– between blaming him and it being his fault. One is purposeful, conscious; it’s a decision you take and lay on his head. If you blame him, you commit yourself to hate him. The latter, however, is a fact. It’s irrefutable and immutable as the fact that you need air to live. It is his fault, but it was not his goal. 

“He didn’t mean it, but it’s still his fault,” You whisper to yourself, pushing yourself off the sink to try and figure out his shower. It is his house, that’s a fact. But you also deserve a nice, warm shower, and that is another fact. He pushed you to come stay with him, so you need to also push yourself to feel comfortable in this space that feels so foreign to your senses. “He didn’t mean it, but it’s still his fault.”

The words become your mantra. He didn’t mean it, but it’s still his fault. Somewhere in you, you know you have what it takes to forgive, but you just don’t have what it’s needed to forget. By repeating those words, you allow your brain to slowly process this situation as what it is– something that happened because of him, but not by him. As much as you want someone to blame, someone to scream at, Spencer Reid just isn’t that person. 

It takes you a moment to realise you don’t really have a towel or any of your products here, and using Spencer’s shampoo just feels… odd. Like an invasion of his space almost. “Oh thank god for you, Spencer,” You sighed, happy to see the pairing of shampoo and conditioner sitting perfectly on the corner. His hair had been one of the first things you noticed about him, all chestnut and shaggy and longish, but you are aware that not every man knows the basic of self-care. There is something about the way his smell takes over the bathroom, floating with the evaporation of the warm water hitting your skin, makes you smile. You feel closer to Spencer than you’ve ever been, and that is when your sense of danger hits. Your heart starts speeding, and your breathing is suddenly really shallow, and you’re trying to come out of the shower, to breathe in cold air, but all you get is humid mist and you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe at all, you can’t–

“Spencer!” You gasp, eyes wide in desperation once your legs feel like they might just give out. Scrambling to hold yourself up, your hands knock over some things in the counter, making more noise on top of the running shower. “SPENCER!” 

“What? What? What– oh my god,” The door slams against the wall and back, almost hitting him on the side when he crouched down next to your naked, curled up body. It’s quite unnatural for you to witness, him jumping into action so fast, like he is trained to make these decisions in a split second. But then you remember that he actually is trained to make these quick choices– like grabbing the towel before anything else, covering you without a single quip about your nakedness; like sitting you up and putting your back against the wall; like turning off the shower and sitting back down right next to you, breathing deeply and loudly. It’s unconscious, how you let your breathing fall in line with his, and it takes a moment to realise he’s doing this on purpose. “Y/N, are you okay?” 

“No,” You whisper, shaking from either the cold or the nerves or both. There are goosebumps all over your legs, the towel not covering you much from the top of your thighs down. “Spencer, I’m not okay. I’m… Until yesterday, you were just the adorable guy who shared my love for books. Y-You’d come into the store smiling and we’d talk and talk and– and now I have a serial killer possibly tracking me. How am I supposed to be okay? I’m so scared… oh god, I’m so scared, Spencer…” The one thing you are proud, amidst your utter embarrassment, is that you are not crying anymore. You still sound a bit rough, throat tired and hurting, and there is no energy left in you and he can hear that, you know he can, because when your voice echoes in the silent bathroom, kicking from wall to wall, you hear it too– the exhaustion and the numbness and the emptiness left behind. 

“I-I’m still that guy,” He stutters, head falling down in shame but voice still twinged with something resembling hope. “I love books. I love talking to you about books, I love going to your store first thing in the morning. I’m still this guy, I just… I just happen to work for the FBI.”

“Yeah, but I… I think that after having my life turned upside down because of a serial killer who has a crush on you, I’m just not that same girl.”

That is the last time you talk to him that day.

—————————————

Actually, that was the last time you talked to him that entire week. 

After he dropped you at the store that day and you were forced to face the embarrassing remnants of your lowest moment in life, moping old vomit from the floor, that feeling of turmoil in your chest died down. It settled. And it hardened. 

He tried making conversation on the walk back to his, but you’re clearly not up for it, so his voice slowed down, getting lower and lower, until it stopped altogether. This time, you shower before bed and make a beeline to the armchair again, letting Spencer’s begs and pleas for you to sleep on the bed fall in deft ears.

For five days, you two don’t talk. 

It’s a dance of chaos, how you step around each other at the apartment, and seeing him biting his words back or catching a glimpse of the bags under his eyes makes you feel guilty; of course it does. But you know that you can’t help him right now. Even if you were to forgive him, to force your mercy onto the situation, it wouldn’t be genuine. It would give him a false sense of relief while you’d forever be uncomfortable next to him, and you don’t want that. You don’t want to feel on edge next to Spencer, you don’t want to feel nauseous and scared when you’re with him. You want to talk about books and coffee and favourite places to order take out from. Instead, all you get to do is talk about her.

It would be a lie to say you don’t feel slightly jealous with the way that his mind seems to be so wrapped around Cat Adams. The imposed talking ban is hard on you both, that much you know, but the more Spencer let it happen, the more he let it stretch out and continue, the more you feel like maybe he doesn’t care that much. Maybe what is hard for him is the awkward tension trapped in his own apartment, rather than the pain of seeing each other so close yet not being able to laugh like you used to. And you know– you know how ridiculous your thought are, how childish you’re acting, but you can’t really blame yourself for being so on edge lately, not when your emotions are so zip and zapping through your body like thunder and lightening. 

There are exceptions, though. In this case three exceptions, three moments in a day in which he brakes the ban, and you, for once, allow yourself some weakness. 

“Good morning,” Is moment one. He says that every day, when he blinks himself awake on the couch. Ever since you’ve been there, a total of six days now, Spencer has slept on the couch, right next to the armchair you’ve claimed as your own. For these, you meet his eyes and nod, as if saying same to you.

Breakfast is quiet. He makes coffee and you make eggs, because despite you being there under forced circumstances, you are not going to be ungrateful and so you pay him back by getting groceries and cooking most meals. Which leads you to exception number two– the moment when he drops you at the bookstore.

You two walk there at 8 and he’s gone by 8:07, giving you enough time to mumble a “Be safe,” and give him his lunch for the day. He tried telling you that you didn’t have to cook for him, but you don’t really listen. As pathetic as it seems, this is the one way you’ve found to keep what you two had before, alive. 

The third exception is the one that truly breaks your heart, again and again. It’s when he gets home, and he looks exhausted, and his hands fidget with the files he holds close to his chest. You are the first thing he looks for, and you almost melt at the way his shoulders visibly relax when he spots you– always ready for bed, always in the armchair. He stopped trying to come get you at the bookstore at night once you’ve agreed to let the officers walk you home. The spare key he added to your keychain should hold a bigger meaning than it does, though it feels like it does hold a bigger weight. A means to an end, you tell yourself every time you unlock his front door. This is just a means to an end. “Thank you,” he will then say, before he even moves to the kitchen to see whatever it was on the plate you had made and set in the microwave for him. “And good night.” By then, you’re already semi-asleep and you don’t really say anything. 

You never thought you would miss these forbidden exceptions when they’re gone. 

You know that travel is a big part of Spencer’s job, but with all that is going on, you never really considered the fact that he might need to leave for a few days. At least not until he calls you, right before you lock the store. The irregularity of it all has you scrambling to pick it up. “Spencer?” You barely whisper, voice cracking in half as little by little, you freeze up. The sensation is like ice running through your veins, burning it’s way to your heart until it makes it stop. “Spencer? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” He quickly answers, voice rushed in a way that makes you relax. He always talks fast and you find it incredibly endearing, even during these times apart. “I’m okay, it’s okay. I’m calling because we got a case.”

“Uh, okay?”

“Y/N, that means they need us in Ohio. Today.” He seems almost hesitant to tell you he needs to leave the state. 

And you are as hesitant to accept it. “Oh,” You mumble, suddenly needing to making sure the officer assigned to you is still outside and ready to go. “Okay. Do… Do you need clothes or something?” 

Spencer’s chuckle almost makes it all okay. Almost. “No, thank you. I just– I want you to be comfortable, okay? Feel free to sleep in my bed and do anything you want to do, I don’t mind! Feel at home! Just… be comfortable.” 

For a second you nod, forgetting he can’t see you right now. “Okay. Thank you.” 

“And Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You started biting your nails when you were twelve and middle school was kicking your ass. To this day, right now, you still bite them when you’re nervous. 

“It’s good hearing your voice.” 

Going home and knowing he won’t be there is not as comforting as you thought it could be. The two of you are not speaking and the constant walking on egg shells does get tiring, so you try to rationalise this as something that is just not that bad. Maybe Spencer going on his mysterious trips is not that bad anymore. Before, your curiosity was your downfall– you worried he had gotten sick or worse. However, you don’t think knowing the truth is much better. The nature of his job is incredibly dangerous, and you don’t even know much about it. Now, you still worry, that much hasn’t changed. What has changed, though, is that getting sick would be considered lucky. Right now, you worried about the ‘or worse’. 

Your mom’s voice fills the empty space for a while. She texted you a couple of days ago and you just now got around to calling. “Sweetheart, how do we switch to video again? I want to see your face.” Alarm bells sound off in your mind and you immediately shut down the idea. “Sorry mom, I can’t right now. I’ll video call you tomorrow, okay? I’m cooking dinner right now.” Her worry is that of a mother, comforting like a blanket and familiar like a home. It is not, though, the worry you want. 

For obvious reasons, you don’t tell her what’s going on, much rather preferring to tell her about the mundane things that keep you going. “And I sold out of the book!” You say, a short-lived excitement running through you. “It’s quite exciting, mom– since I opened the shop I have never sold out of anything! This is a first!”

“That’s amazing, sweetie!” She says, and you can’t help but wonder how Spencer would’ve reacted to the news if he was there. It’s only then that you realise you’re halfway through making him a plate for when he comes home, except he won’t be back until the case is complete and you gulp, too aware of the common noises you hear around you. 

This is when you realise how much you miss you Spencer. And how much, even if unconsciously, he makes you feel comfortable and safe. You thought it was the apartment, but now, by yourself, laying on the armchair yet again, you feel vulnerable and exposed. Footsteps can be heard from time to time, neighbours getting home or leaving for the night, and every time, without a fault, you hold your breath and wait. Maybe the door will open and she will be there, or maybe it will be another delivery. God, it could be anything– a letter, flowers, another box. Knowing that Cat Adams had such easy access to Spencer’s apartment is enough to get you up and running to his room. 

Green. The walls are green, muted and cozy, and you smile even when your eyes sting with tears. There is a hole in your heart right now and it’s Spencer shaped. “God,” You groan, rubbing your tears clean so aggressively that it hurts. “When did things get so fucked up?” 

There’s no real answer to that, and you if you think any longer about this, your brain might just implode. For now, all you need is to sleep, but that won’t happen for a while; not with the way your heart speeds up at every crackle coming from his old, metal heather. Still, the chill air of Autumn seeps in through the walls, and you shiver. I want you to be comfortable, Spencer had said before leaving, and you might be crossing some boundaries right now, but you need him close to feel comfortable. You might not be able to get him, but the next best thing you have right now is one of his sweaters, and you have no qualms about opening his wardrobe and grabbing the first thing you find. Ironically enough, it’s an FBI Academy hoodie, though you can’t really imagine Spencer and all his formal glory in a hoodie. You put it on, nonetheless, shutting the door with your foot and just as you turn around, your eyes catch sight of something. Something big, and beige, and bone chilling. 

The box. 

In the heat of the moment, you simply thought he had throw it away. Hell, it would’ve made sense to throw it away! What the fuck was that box doing there…? With a shaky breath, you open the wardrobe door again, hoping, praying, that you were actually hallucinating and that what you saw was nothing but a shoe box or a bag. “God, please, be a bag, be a bag…” Safe to say, your words are in vain. “Fuck, Spencer, what is wrong with you?”

You’re shaking when you pull the box out of its hiding place, breathing shallow and fast. Reason escapes you as you quickly open it, not worried about how it was or even about putting it back in place; if it was up to you, this box would’ve been gone a long time ago. Clearly, it had not been up to you. “Oh my god, I’m going to be sick.” 

Expectations are a tricky thing to deal with. When it comes to your life, you never expected anything big. You know your limitation better than anyone and the largest you’ve dreamt before was the store. You didn’t expect an FBI agent. You didn’t expect a serial killer. And you certainly didn’t expect a box full of sex toys. “What the…” You don’t want to touch them, not with your bare hands, but it looks like there are tens of toys in there, varying in shapes and sizes and colours. It makes you wonder… last he told you, her games are psychological and manipulative. From what you are seeing, though, this is incredibly physical. This is about touch and intimacy and… fuck. This is about connection. You don’t have to be a profiler to know that, not when you are so secretive about your own toys, hidden in the back of your besides drawer away from unwanted eyes. It’s a private thing, and only people you trusted, people you let into your life, knew about them. 

Before you know what you’re doing, you rush to find your phone. It’s somewhere in the house, and you need to find it, you need to call him. “Pick up,” You whisper when you finally find it in the living room, under your favourite blanket on the chair. Even your fingers are shaking, vision a bit blurred from the adrenaline rushing through you– you feel like you’re in danger, and you don’t know what to do. “Spence, pick up, pick up, please pick up–“

“Hello?” You almost cry when you hear his raspy voice on the other side. It doesn’t make you feel any better to think that you might just have woken him up.

“Spencer,” You whine, embarrass with how needy you sound. The nice officer that brought you home is standing outside the door, and you could’ve gone to him– could’ve opened the door, asked him to stay inside, talk to him a little. Or you could’ve called Penelope. She had given you her number with promises that more often then not, she stayed behind to work from the BAU office. There is no place safer than my office, she had promised you, but how do you tell her that the problem is not your environment, it’s not where you are or what you’re doing… how do you tell her that the problem is you? She might not understand it so you don’t even dare try to explain it. You don’t dare to give her and the team this part of yourself too and you shut your mouth with a firm hand over your lips. 

Memories of a life you left behind flash behind your eyes, and you whimper, hugging your knees to your chest while you hear him desperately calling for you. As far as you can, you kick that godforsaken box away from you. “Y/N?! Y/N, say something, please! Are you okay? Y/N!”

“I’m here,” You whisper, pushing your hair away from your face. “I’m here.’ 

“What’s going on?” 

“Spencer, I–” A moment of regret and hesitation makes you pause. What can he even do all the way from Ohio? “I want to go home.” 

You’re not his priority. 

You’ll never be his priority. 

There is no point to this.

“…did something happen?” This is the Spencer you know– voice soft and guarded– and for a second it feels like you two are getting to know each other all over again. “Did officer Kaper make you uncomfortable? I’ll ask for a change of guard, I’ll–“

“N-No,” You cut him off with a shaky exhale. Your head falls on your free hand, finger tangled with your messy hair, and you tug on it. Sharply, the tingly pain on your scalp grounds you for a second, brings you back to this situation you created. “No, Spence, no no no, I just want to go home, I need to go home, I–“ 

“Y/N, breathe,” He coaches you as gently as he can, voice stable and strong, everything you seem to be lacking. “You’re going to set yourself off in a panic again if you don’t breathe. You’re safe in my apartment, okay? I know it’s not the same as being home, I know, but you’re safe there!”

“You’re not here, Spence!” 

There is a moment of silence for both of you. “You’re not here and you didn’t throw that fucking box away,” You whisper, keeping the moment something in between just the two of you. It’s enough that you are falling apart like this in front of Spencer, you don’t need officer Kaper bursting in the door to witness this too.

“You found the box,” He sighs. This is the first time you notice just how tired he sounds.

“I found the box,” You confirm, sniffling in a stubborn attempt to not start crying all over again. 

“It’s evidence. I can’t throw it away, Y/N.”

“Why is it here?”

“I’ve been working on the case on my free time and it just made sense to keep it at home…” 

“Spence, I want to go home. I don’t feel safe,” You admit, shaking your head. “I don’t feel safe here when you’re not here, Spence, I want to go home.” 

“I thought you hated me.”

“Spencer…” He has a point, though, and you know it. This is the first time you two speak in days, the first time you experience this type of comfort again, but it’s still not enough. He’s still not here, next to you, watching over you. He’s still not with you. “Spencer, I’m sorry.” 

“Silly girl, why are you apologising?” He asks, chuckling on the other side and you can picture him– you can see him shaking his head, hair falling around his pretty face like a perfect picture frame when his eyes, pure honey with specks of green, search for yours. Yeah… you can imagine it to perfection, almost like you are the one with eidetic memory. “This is all my fault. And I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Y/N and I’m trying to protect you, so I need you to stay there, okay? I need you to stay in my apartment, please.” 

You don’t know what to tell him. Your eyes wander around the room, looking at all the details he left behind without even noticing. There is a copy of Dostoevsky on the bed side table. I hate Russian literature, you remember telling him once. He was in the shop, bringing you coffee, when you caught a glimpse of a book you certainly didn’t sell him. And I’m appalled you’ve been buying books somewhere else. The way he laughed then, like his biggest problem in the world was explaining to you that this had been a gift from a friend and that he would never betray your trust like this. What do you hate so much about it?, he had asked, leaning over the counter and into you, eager to debate this topic he loved so much. I hate that it’s all about suffering. Even the moments of realisation and self-improvement, they are all through suffering and misery. And of course he had a retort to that, fingers twitching with his enthusiasm. But it’s contextual, you see! Those were written in time of civil unrest and political chaos, and it makes sense to have characters and plot lines that revolve around suffering when that is all you know from the world around you. To this day, your answer paralyses you. I’m a believer in silver linings and happy endings. And not because I’m naive or ignorant, but because the world around me has made me believe that there must be something better out there. Isn’t that nicer?

“Y/N, please tell me you’ll stay there, I need you to stay there.” 

His words almost escape you, but you catch them in the very last minute. It gives you a glimpse into a side of him he has yet to show you, and it absolutely shatters your heart in bits. I need you to stay there, he had said. Not you need to stay there, but I need you to stay there. Suddenly, you realise that this– all of this, the relocation, the involvement of the FBI, the dropping off and picking up– is not just for you. 

“I’ll stay here,” Whispering with him like this helps. “I’ll stay. I’m sorry I woke you up.” 

“Don’t be. I’m happy you called.” 

“I’ll let you go back to sleep, but Spence?” 

“Yeah?”

“Be safe. I need you back here.”

“I’ll be home in no time.” 

For a second, you trust him. You trust everything will be okay, that you can make everything okay until he gets back, and then you’ll pass the responsibility onto him. For a second, you trust him, but you also trust yourself. 

Everything will be okay. 

Everything will be okay. 

Everything will be okay. 

You fall asleep like this; wearing his hoodie and hugging your phone, nose buried on his pillow in hopes to dream of him. The sun wakes you up, and there are birds chirping at your window. Despite the heaviness you feel in you and dooming headache you know will settle soon, the romantic in you believes that today will be a good day. That today will be an okay day.

“Miss Y/L/N? It’s officer Kaper.” 

The knock doesn’t scare you anymore. On days one through three it had you jumping on air, heart about to stop from how fast it was beating. Days four and five were easier, less scary and more anxious, waiting for the punctual 9AM knock. From day six onwards, it was a welcome start to your day, knowing that someone is looking after you. 

You check the fisheye like Spencer told you to, and then you open the door only when you recognise the face on the other side. “Good morning, Officer,” You smile, nodding at him a bit stiffly. The two of you had been formally introduced by JJ, but it didn’t make this any less awkward for you. “Would you like some coffee?” 

“Sure,” He nods, smiling as he comes inside with his usual stack of mail. Everyday, without fail, someone picks up your mail and brings it to Officer Kaper. “Here’s your mail for the day, ma’am.” 

“How was the night shift?” It’s almost like a scripted conversation, these back and forth questions you throw at each other, and you’re finding that you hate this. You hate the stiff conversations and the self-imposed bans. But this is day two, and in just more two days, Spencer would be home. And you would talk to him, just like you used to before, just like you did over the phone. Nothing will change; you’re not going home any time soon and Cat Adams isn’t going to just magically disappear. It’s time to accept it and learn how to live with it, as hard as that sounds. 

Sifting through your mail has to be your favourite part of the day. It’s normal, slightly boring, and a peek into the routine you used to have and love. No one ever sends you letters, so it’s just bills. “Water, electricity, marketing, marketing,” The coffee is brewing in the background and Officer Kaper is telling you about his daughter. She’s a tiny girl, just two and very, very shy, but apparently, she loves stories. “I might have a book for her,” You get distracted from the letters for a second, smiling at the kind officer. “I’ll bring it to you later tonight!” 

When you look back again, it’s the one on top. 

The envelope is white, like any other letter, and it has no thing in the back but your name and address scribbled in red, a big heart right next to it. “Uh, Officer, this is… this is weird.” You’ve been instructed to let someone know if you received anything unlabelled or unexpected. This letter is certainly unexpected. “It has no return address.” 

“May I open it?” He asks and you nod. He opens it with a knife, pulling a small piece of paper inside. “Okay, it seems like a normal letter. There is no signature of any kind.”

“What does it say?” You’re nervous now, walking around Officer Kaper to read over his shoulder. “Oh my god.” 

“Does this mean anything to you?” 

Nodding, you’re dialling Spencer’s number already. “It means I’m fucked.” 

On the table, laid a message you’d never forget.

He’s not yours to keep. 

---------------------------------------

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[gavisimmaculaterizz]

— bother II / jude bellingham.

summary: after a long tortuous night, jude finally decides to apologize. (part 1 here)

special thanks to @stephiii29 for the inspiration 🤍

warnings: none

masterlist

jude was not the type of person to be confrontational, and so were you. the night was cold and aloof, it felt heavy and suffocating to say the least.

jude couldn’t sleep knowing he messed up real big, which was letting his anger out on you. he knew that he shouldn’t project his anger out on you, but your question made him snap, losing his consciousness and not thinking straight. all night he twisted and turned, hoping the sun rose soon to apologize to you.

he knew it’d be difficult to apologize, knowing you were not the person to express feelings. so he put his mind to think on ways to make you forgive him.

meanwhile in the comfort of the living room, you laid in the couch, still sad over the mini “argument” you and jude had earlier. you knew it wasn’t your fault, but you still felt a guilt in your stomach for causing him to snap at you. you really missed his touch, his scent, everything. it was like you were deprived for his touch. when you and him slept together, you felt like he protected you,

like your personal bodyguard.

you shook your thoughts away and checked your phone. you looked at the time and realized it was still early for your liking.

3:49 am

jude usually gets ready at 7, so you forced yourself to sleep, taking meletonin. you knew you were being a brat by trying to avoid jude, but it was the best decision you could make at the moment. you didn’t want to anger jude more, so you thought it’d be better to leave him alone to marinate in his thoughts and go to sleep.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

7:15 am

jude was awoken from his short slumber with an obnoxious alarm, signaling it was time to get ready. he did his usual routine which was showering, changing, brushing his teeth, and combing his gorgeous locks. during his whole routine he couldn’t stop and think how he left you last night, he deeply regretted what he said knowing it hurt you more than him.

he left your shared apartment disappointed. before he left he stopped by the living room and noticed you knocked out. he noticed the little details in your face, especially the dried tears on your face. his heart shattered seeing you broken, all because of his words.

on the way to the ciudad deportiva del real madrid, jude stopped by a local flower shop, placing an order of your favorite flowers to give to you when he came back from practice.

thoughout the training session, his teammates couldn’t help but notice the way he was training. this wasn’t like the jude they knew, did the loss in the bernabéu last night really affect him?

“tío, are you still angered over the loss yesterday?”, asked modric.

jude couldn’t help but stare deeply into the croatian’s eyes, shaking his head, signaling it wasn’t about that.

the croatian took it as a sign to not further bother the british.

as practice finally ended, jude quickly got ready and stopped by the flower shop to pick up the flowers he got you. he couldn’t also forget to stop by your favorite fast food restaurant. he knew you like the back of his palm, he knew every nook and cranny about you that it felt like you two have known each other since birth.

1:05 pm

apon arriving at your shared apartment, jude prepared his apology, making sure to not forget why he’s apologizing.

he fixed his shirt nervously, slowly opening the door to your shared apartment, trying not to make any noise.

you were in the kitchen, cleaning up the remaining mess you left from last night, forgetting to clean the dishes up from when dinner was served. you heard his footsteps behind you, your heart beating faster than ever.

“hi my love.”, jude said softly. you couldn’t help but mentally fold because he called you my love, you always fell more in love with him when he used that pet name.

“hey..”, you said softly, copying his tone, trying to sound put together. upon your words, jude immediately hugged you.

“please forgive me for what i caused you last night y/n. i let my emotions get to me, i never meant to make you feel sad or guilty over what happened last night. please just forgive me…”, he said nervously. you couldn’t help but smile at his apology. immediately accepting it by giving him a kiss.

“apology accepted.”, you said sheepishly. he immediately gave you a kiss, later then showing you what he bought you.

you couldn’t lie, he was such a sweet person when it came to apologizing. you could apologize to him right on the spot because of his gorgeous looks.

after all you weren’t a bother to him..

a/n: ty guys so much for the support on my first fic! i really appreciate it 😞❤️!! also this is really rushed bc im kinda busy 🥲

[loveshotzz]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do Perv!Eddie getting caught masterbating with his best friends stolen panties only to find out she’s as perverted as him? Please and thank you!

also- if you could add the fact that reader has stolen things from him too? thank you!

Love your work!! ❤️

OOOO THIS IS SPICY. Let me see what I can do for you bb 💞 I hope you like it!

Warnings: Masturbation both m and f. Perv!Eddie and Perv!Reader. MINORS DO NOT ENTER.

You watched Eddie frantically throw clothes around his room, shirts, pants, underwear.

“Where the fuck is it?” He mutters under his breath, dumping out his laundry basket all over the floor. His room looks like a bomb went off.

“What are you looking for?”

Eddie’s hunched over the pile of clothes on the ground, the bottom of his hellfire shirt rising up. Blue and white checkered boxes peak out the top of his tightly fitted jeans. Biting your bottom lip the sight makes your thighs press together.

God, you gotta get it together, he’s your best friend.

“My favorite Iron Maiden shirt, I haven’t seen it for like a week. I wanted to wear it to the show tomorrow.” His voiced is muffled as he moves to his small closet ripping everything out of there next.

Your eyes go wide at the mention of his Iron Maiden shirt. You had pocketed that shirt in your back pack last week while Eddie had been in the shower. Both of you had spent all day outside at Lovers lake, the heat of the sun making you both sweaty messes. There was something about Eddie’s musk that had always made your mouth water, you couldn’t help but turn into a thief when the opportunity presented itself.

On nights after the days where his fingers brushed against you more then normal or he used pet names a little too freely, you’d wrap it around your pillow using it to get yourself off. Imagining it was his cock you were bouncing on, his scent swirling around you made your fantasies seem real in the moment.

Heat rising to your cheeks you had to think of something quick. You couldn’t just let him destroy his room for something he was never going to find.

“Why not your AC/DC one? With the flames? That one’s cooler.” You try lamely, nervous fingers playing with the hem of your shorts.

“No, I want this one.” You knew once he made up his mind there was no going back. “I just don’t know where it is, I wore it to the Lake last week…” Eddie stands there looking up at the ceiling trying to jog his memory of its whereabouts. Index finger following an imaginary timeline.

Suddenly his dirty carpet is the most interesting thing in the world to you. Sweaty palms and rosy cheeks, if Eddie were paying more attention he’d see the guilt written all over your face.

The sound of Uncle Wayne opening the front door is your saving grace, using the distraction to make a quick exit you ignore Eddie’s confusion at your sudden need to leave.

You were going home and washing that shirt, you’d sneak it back into his room when he wasn’t home. He’d never know.

——

Eddie always had band practice on Friday’s the one day out of the week he didn’t take you home from school. It was the perfect time to do it, all you had to do was wait until Wayne went to work.

It sounded like a fool proof plan until you showed up that late afternoon and Eddie’s van was still parked in front.

After an internal battle you decide you’re already here and the shirt was clean in your hand. You just needed an excuse to give him as to why you had it.

The walk up to his front door is spent running through a list of reasons why, finally landing on accidentally grabbing it with a shirt that you had left here. It wasn’t a far off excuse, practically living here part time.

Digging the spare key he had given you out of your pocket, you let yourself in. It was something you did all the time, Eddie always playing his music too loud to hear you knocking.

Shutting the door behind you, it takes you a minute to realize how quiet the trailer is. Eddie’s van was here, Wayne was gone, usually your eardrums are threatening to rupture.

“Fuck— you like that?” Eddie’s breathy voice breaks through the silence followed by a low moan.

Your heart sinks, Eddie didn’t tell you band practice was cancelled because he was with a girl. A girl that was living out your fantasies.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you like how your best friend fucks you?”

His words confuse you, is he secretly fucking Gareth? You don’t have any control over your feet as you make your way to his room,curiosity getting the best of you.

Peaking through the crack in his door, nothing could prepare you for the sight in front of you.

Eddie was laid out on his bed, shirt lifted up just above his belly button with his pants shoved half way down his thighs. His eyes were closed, brows knitted together with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead causing his bangs to stick. Your eyes roam the happy trail that haunted your dreams following the dark length of hair to an even thicker darker bush at the base of it.

His cock was everything you had ever imagined it to be, even in his big hand it looked massive. You could see the glint of precum leaking from the tip as he continued to fist himself, his motions getting faster chasing his orgasm. Eddie was close and you couldn’t find it in yourself to walk away.

Something pink caught your eye in his other hand as he brought it up to his nose inhaling deeply.

“You smell so good y/n you gonna let me cum inside of you?”

When Eddie says your name it feels like your world stops. Watching him take the pink fabric from his nose bringing it to the head of his leaking cock, you realize that pink fabric was your underwear.

The panties you had been searching days for. Finally chocking it up to them falling into the dryer abyss even though you never remembered washing them. Here they were in Eddie’s possession wrapped around his dick ready to collect his cum.

The idea of Eddie stealing your dirty panties to get off to makes the wet patch in your underwear become almost unbearable. Shuffling your feet trying to gain friction you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

Eddie’s eyes snap open and meet yours when he hears you at his door way, but he’s too close to stop now. Eyes locked on yours, the idea of you watching him fuck himself in your panties sends him close to the edge. When his eyes leave your half lidded one’s and he see’s the Iron Maiden shirt clutched in your hand, it all comes together. Your strange behavior, the red in your cheeks, you were stealing his clothes too.

The realization mixed with the thought of you getting yourself off with his shirt has him spilling himself into the soft fabric of your panties. Eyes rolling in the back of his head, his whole body convulses with the intensity of the orgasm crashing through him. Your presence escalating everything, not even his own fantasies could come up with this. With his eyes still closed Eddie needs a minute to catch his breath, his fingers gripping tightly to your panties that were now dripping with his cum.

“I just came to return your shirt.”

Part Two

[ox-imagines]

Tokyo Debunker as Romance Tropes

Feel free to ask me to write a longer imagine/oneshot for any of these!

Pt. 3 | Jabberwock

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7

Haru - Love at First Sight

Haru is a very busy man. He’s always on the go, rarely ever thinking about romance because he’s got thirty-thousand other things on his mind. One day, all these things weighing on him distracted him enough that Peekaboo managed to get out of his pen, wandering off out the back door that Ren had left open again. When he realized Peekaboo was missing he almost lost it, flying into a full panic and racing out the door. He found him playing with you in a large clearing in Jabberwock, you sitting on the ground picking wildflowers and handing them to Peekaboo, who’d sort them into piles based on their color. He was so relieved he came to a dead stop on the spot, a horrid crunch coming from one of his ankles from the sudden force of his momentum. He fell over, wincing softly, and you quickly moved over toward him, asking if he was ok. When he looked up at you, his breath caught in his throat. The sun was behind you, framing you and lighting up your loose hairs like they were glowing, and you wore a soft, concerned look on your face, which as far as he was concerned may well have been the prettiest face he’d ever seen.

“I, um, I’ll be fine, it, it happens! Thank you for watching my baby, I can’t believe I let him escape… whaddya say I, uh, treat you to dinner tonight as a thank-you?”

Towa - Soulmates

Towa has always loved the idea of soulmates. Towa loves love, period. Unfortunately, his love and devotion to Haru get in the way of him finding his own soulmate. At least, until you come into his life. He thinks you’re perfect: you understand him better than anyone ever has before, you’ve got an uncanny way of keeping his rapid mood swings at bay, and soon, he listens to you and does things for you unlike he will for anyone but Haru. The two of you can often even communicate without words, you adapting to his nonverbal tendencies so well you sometimes adopt them when you’re around him. You’re a bit free-spirited, but grounded enough that his wild, free spirit is calmed around you. Even if you don’t believe in soulmates, Towa does, and he’s certain that you’re his and won’t hesitate to let you know that on a regular basis. He regularly comes to you with R&R permits asking you to go off campus with him.

“~~~. You’re the one for me, Dandelion. Please never change~”

Ren - Roommates

All things considered, Ren is a good roommate. He doesn’t really help clean, but he also doesn’t spend much time outside his room to make much of a mess in the first place. He minds his own business, he never makes much noise, and sometimes, you can convince him to play video games with you. Ren loves video games. Sometimes, Ren loves video games more than he cares about his personal space, at least considering you’re also laid-back and mind his boundaries, so every once in a while he’ll even invite you into his room to play something with him, or watch game playthrough videos. One day, he does something you wouldn’t have ever expected of him, inviting you to watch a movie with him. You agree and go make popcorn, only to realize he’d meant in his room rather than the living room. You end up sitting up at his headboard together rather than perched on the end of his bed like you usually do when you’re in there. This becomes more frequent, the space between your shoulders decreasing little by little each time, until the night you fall asleep on his shoulder. He gets flustered, not even realizing you’re asleep at first, but he can’t deny that it’s a nice feeling to have you cuddled up next to him like that.

“So, uh. There’s a new movie that came out a couple weeks ago and it’s available to rent now, do you maybe wanna watch it tonight? I know you don’t love horror stuff, but…”

[tojisxslvt]

Make up, or break up.

Summary: Toji comes home from a long day at work his mood completely off, yes Toji said whatever he wanted at all times but today he was unusually snappy, the last thing he said, had Y/n on the verge of giving up their relationship completely.

First person and sometimes Toji’s point of view and I dunno I say “You” sometimes but mostly in first person, try not to get confused.

Warning-degrading words, cursing, again Toji because he is a warning himself. Ykm by now I’m writing the most stomach turning smut there is for Toji.

A/N-I don’t feel like proof reading much but, I’ll do it enough.

Enjoy my little dilf lovers 😭

Despite how slow today was, the sun seemed to go down a lot faster than it usual does. Toji still not being home while the kids destroyed our home, Toji brought them a can of silly string and now the couch and floor was covered with a silly slippery messy.

“Gumi!” I scold looking at the boy, whom of course answered with a shrug and a monotone expression his older sister smiling up at me, “we had a silly fight!” She insists answering for her brother making me huff angrily trying to get a grip.

“And you’ve made a silly mess! How are we gonna clean it?” Miki smiled while I pushed my hands through my hair finally scrubbing half of the goo off my couch with a scowl the kids going in the guest bedroom I had for them until things were final and I moved with Toji, which was a process itself.

Once I hear keys twist the door opened I perk up to see my tall muscular boyfriend walking into the house, instantly pushing his index finger into the loop of his tie, something was unusual about him, but it always was, I smile “welcome back how was work?” I ask, but Toji walked right by me after closing the door.

I blink turning my head to him “Toji?” I ask but he simply kicks off his shoes pulling the tie off completely, “Toji.” I say putting the rag down, he huffs in annoyance walking back towards the room “Fushiguro!” I yell causing him to snap his head toward me shooting me a cold look, “what.” He said, me hearing in his voice that he tried his hardest not to yell.

“You don’t hear me talking to you?” I say feeling offended by his response, his stare turns into a glare “Toji!” “Fuck off alright?! Just leave me the fuck alone!” He yells slamming his fist into the wall, “what the fuck is your problem! Don’t bring your nasty ass attitude here!” I yell feeling his anger latch onto me.

No way was I going to allow him to speak like this in my house, “oh shut up, if you would have just gave me a few fucking minutes to wind down! Yet you wanna have a whole conversation when it’s obvious I’m not in the fucking mood!” He shouts his fist balled, “when I speak to you! You speak the fuck back!” I say pointing at him.

“I don’t have to do shit fuck off.” He said bluntly, he then, walks away telling the kids to “get ready,” before putting all of his things back on, was he really leaving? I stand there watching him not knowing what to do as he pulled his shoes on and grabbed his Keys brushing past me.

“Toji..” I muttered clenching my fist tightly but he simply ignored me firing up my anger even more “you know what? You wanna go?! Then fucking go and don’t come back!” I shout having him pick Miki up saying simply “shut up.” Before him Tsumiki and Megumi leave out of the door.

I walk into my room slamming my door pissed, I didn’t do anything for him to blow up like that, I do so much without so much as a single glance of annoyance and he has the nerve to look at me with evil and annoyed eyes?

I flop onto my bed burying my face Into a pillow that smelled just like him, and finally the tears, I couldn’t believe this was happening then came the guilt, maybe I should have just left him alone.

After a while I pass out in a pool of my own tears.

Toji walks back into the house food in hand,after maybe about three hours “go on walk in,” he instructed the kids as he held the door opened for the little munchkins that ran in he huffed closing the door behind him, his eyes Averted to the couch. Full of silly string mess.

He didn’t mean to go off on the girl, but sometimes his anger boiled over, a part of him Maturing he would always try to walk away. But today he blew up and he hated himself for it because out of all people, he blew up on you. He sighs putting the food down cleaning up the rest of the mess and when he was done he grabbed the food and walked into the room seeing you knocked out on the bed.

He softly comes up rubbing on my back with soft words as he pulled me into his chest after climbing into the bed, “I’m sorry [name..]” but when I opened my eyes I pushed against his chest coming to my senses, “get off of me,” I say trying to get out of bed but he just pulls me back.

“Please just relax,” “now you’re calm you wanna tell me to calm down?!” I say after sitting up, Toji huffs holding my wrist so I wouldn’t storm out “I know it was fucked up what I said, I didn’t mean to blow up like that..I’m telling you today..at work was rough, I walked away from you so I wouldn’t take it out on you..” he said pulling me closer.

I tear up and he pulls me into his chest, “I hate seeing you cry..” he admits cooing as he rocked with me “and knowing that I’m the one that made you cry makes this worse…” he said holding me tightly, his rough voice so soft as he spoke to me.

“Toji let me go..” “no.” He said “relax, you’re really starting to piss me off, can’t you see that I’m sorry,” he said his soft voice going back to being rough quickly.

I glare at him, of course I wanted to crumble at his very touch, but I didn’t want him to think I was that easy. “You think I give a fuck about pissing you off?!” I yell standing walking towards the door. Toji stands quickly pulling me towards him but I pull away “clearly not, whatever you want to do or say, say it here don’t take the shit out in front of my kids.” He instructed causing me to snatch my hand away.

“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want in my house!” I yell Toji’s grip on my arm tightens “I don’t give a shit what you do in your house. But when my kids are here try to act like a fucking adult,” he said his patient soft voice Turing back into the same rough voice that started all of this. I try to snatch my hand away but he simply pulls me by my waist.

“You’re so fucking stubborn..” he said lifting my chin kissing my lips instantly shoving his tongue into my mouth; I melted gripping onto his shirt and in frustration I fought his tongue, but of course he won, grabbing the back of my head to hold me there as he sucked on my tongue maintaining eye contact.

I shiver feeling him pull back and instantly when he does I reach down unbuckling his pants, “instead of having an attitude all you had to do was ask for it~” he says keeping the eye contact that made my soul burn, he closes in the space taking a soft nibble of my bottom lip, while I reach my hand into his pants feeling just how hard he was.

Toji pulls back looking down at my hand lifting his shirt a bit revealing his toned torso, he bit his lip as I dropped to my knees, “you’re already so hard..~” I whispered as he helped me pull his boxers down just enough to where his cock sprung out.

I whimpered at the radiating heat I felt, “what can I say…arguing turns me on..~” he said pushing the tip of his dick against my lips, “open.” He demanded causing my mouth to open without a second thought taking only half of him in as the tip already touched the back of my throat causing my eyes to water, Toji gripped my hair as I wrapped my hand around whatever I couldn’t fit.

I crawl closer on my knees bobbing my head watching the part I was sucking glisten in the light with my spit while the part I couldn’t fit stay completely dried.

Toji took a breath “thaaat’s it..~” he mumbled out leaning his head back as he started to thrust up into my mouth causing me to hold his legs in a way to keep my balance. He starts to buck his hips faster, my chest heaving as I gag, I moan out bobbing my head again rubbing whatever I couldn’t fit in my mouth.

Toji pulled back panting as he looked down at my teary eyes drool seeping down my chin, “Toji..~” I start, “yeah yeah..” he said picking me up laying me on the bed my face pushed into the pillow. He yanks my pants and panties off causing me to yelp, he then pulls off his shirt watching how I rocked from side to side, my ass in the air, “please don’t make me wait..~” I say looking back at him.

Toji smirks and simply kisses my lower back jerking himself off mixing in my spit with his precum, he pulled my waist roughly pushing himself into me, I hiss biting hard on my lip as I pull the sheets off the corner of the bed from balling it up in my hand fight back a scream, “I know mama…I know..~” he cooed pulling back just to thrust his cock deeper into me. “Jussst let it out..~”

I let my lip go panting out long stands of moans “fuck! Toj-“ I cut myself off burying my face into the pillow as he leaned down holding his upper body up with his fist digging into the mattress.

Toji leaned down when he noticed my reactions, “look back at me baby..~ watch me..~” he added with a Smirk turning my head from the pillow peering down into my eyes, causing me to clench around him tighter, he’s so fucking sexy, and he knows it.

He leans down to me rolling his hips into a spot that made my body quiver, he lays his forehead on the side of my head panting into my ear causing me to whine out with each thrust.

“To..haa~ pleas..mph..~” I moan out failing to warn him about the climax I was quickly approaching yet the constant pounding in my spot wouldn’t allow me to think straight. Toji kisses my ear whispering, “go on..use your words..you had no problem doing so earlier right..~” he coos out through pants right into my ear.

I moan out loudly into the pillow hearing him chuckle ontop of me as I lift my head to catch my breath feeling my pussy squirt when he pulls out flipping me on my back wasting no time to shove himself inside of me causing me cover my mouth screaming out into my arm.

Toji looked down at me eyes low and lust filled as he grabbed both of my arms pinning them to the bed, “what’s wrong with being loud now huh..? What happened to saying whatever the fuck you want in your house hm?~” he said his breath shaky I arch my back my mouth hanging open as my head hit the headboard with each thrust.

“I’m close..~” I pant out as he leans down to me pecking my lips as he bucked his hips roughly into me, “I dunno mama..you haven’t been very good to me~” He said chuckling against my lips as my legs shivered against his waist.

“I’m..~ mm! I’m sorry please..~” I say into his ear burying my fingers into his hair as he rested his head onto my shoulder, Toji pushed his head into my neck sucking harshly on my neck, causing me to shiver even more moving my head so he had more room, but that only made him suck in a new spot as he slammed into me causing my head to spin.

“Toji please! I’m so close just let me..~” “at the same time then princess..mm..” he groaned a bit telling me he was close, he then lifted up pushing my leg up as he pushed into me roughly the sounds we made together would make anyone who could hear us feel embarrassed to even hear it.

I claw at the back of his hand that was holding my thighs tightly as I whine turning my head into the pillow biting on it as I let out multiple strings of moans and whimpers and finally he pushed in two more times before cumming into me deeply.

Instantly I cum as well pushing whatever was inside of me out in a mixture of our own cum.

Toji looks down at me with a cheeky grin dropping my legs just for me to wrap my legs around his waist pulling him down he smiles laying his head in my chest as I shivered under him panting resting my hand into his hair.

He hums kissing my breast, nuzzling his head between them, I blink my legs shaking while they were wrapped around him.

I really was sorry, I guess.

[bzurk]

what gets dirtier the more it cleans?

series masterlist:

thursday, week one:

cw: oral (f recieving), general assholery, enbeta'd

You can’t keep doing this.

The sun barely peeks through the heavy drapes as you drag yourself out of bed, every muscle in your body protesting with a dull, persistent ache. Not even your luxurious brand-new mattress could help. The bruises from last week’s encounter with Simon are still fresh, dark streaks that bloom across your skin, a painful reminder of how things have escalated. Your bones feel heavy, weighed down by exhaustion, but there’s no room for weakness. Not when all four men have been home lately.

It’s almost like they’ve made a game of it, testing your limits, seeing how far they can push before you break. The day stretches out like an unyielding task, each hour marked by the small, deliberate messes they leave in their wake - crumbs on the counter, boots tracking in mud, papers scattered across the dining table. You clean it all up, of course, because that’s your job, but it’s more than that. It’s their way of keeping you busy, keeping you in your place.

They linger in your space, always just close enough to unsettle you. They hover while you scrub the floors, leaning against doorframes with arms crossed, eyes watching your every move.

And then there are the touches. Lingering, teasing, dangerous touches. A hand brushing against your hip as you reach for a rag, fingers skimming the back of your neck as you bend to pick something up, a hand on your back as you dust the mantle. They’re always in the way, always in your space, and it’s deliberate. You know it is.

They watch you, always observing, their gazes a constant pressure on your skin. You try to ignore it, to focus on the tasks at hand, but it’s impossible to pretend you don’t feel the weight of their presence. Whenever you think you’ve found a moment of peace, one of them appears, disrupting your rhythm, forcing you to start over. They’re more hands-on than usual, their touches lingering longer, their comments sharper, edged with something dark and hungry. It’s like they’re daring you to snap, to push back.

Johnny’s the worst of them today, his presence oppressive as he follows you from room to room, his eyes tracking your every move. When you finally make it to the kitchen, he’s there, leaning against the counter with a smirk playing on his lips, watching as you scrub at a stubborn stain on the floor.

“You missed a spot,” he drawls, pointing with a socked foot to a smear of grease you hadn’t noticed.

You grit your teeth, biting back the retort that bubbles up in your throat, and drop to your knees to clean it, the cold tile pressing into your bruises. You can feel his gaze burning into the back of your neck, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of looking up. It’s a small act of defiance, but it’s all you have left. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just stands there, a silent shadow looming over you. The tension between you thickens, coiling like a snake ready to strike, and you wonder how much longer you can keep this up.

Simon is next, brushing past you with a careless shoulder as he grabs a beer from the fridge. His hand lingers on your hip, fingers pressing into a fresh bruise, one he left there, and you wince, a sharp intake of breath betraying your pain. He chuckles, low and rough, the sound vibrating through your chest as he walks away, leaving you trembling in his wake.

And then there’s Kyle, who’s taken to invading your space with a kind of casual intimacy that leaves you on edge. He sits on the counter as you clean, his long legs dangling off the edge, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, pulling you closer under the guise of idle curiosity. His touch is light, teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of something darker, something that makes your stomach twist in knots.

When the evening rolls around, your body is screaming for rest. The exhaustion seeps into your bones, turning your limbs heavy and sluggish. But there’s no stopping, no escape. You push through, as you always do, wiping down counters, folding laundry, and trying to ignore the simmering tension in the air. By the time you reach the living room, you’re running on fumes, your body aching from the constant strain. Price is the only one who hasn’t cornered you yet, but you know it’s only a matter of time.

Your muscles screamed in protest as you scrubbed and swept, your body moving on autopilot, driven by the need to finish and escape before you completely unravelled. But even as you worked, you felt the cracks spreading, the fragile composure you’d been holding onto all week starting to shatter. Your breath hitched as you folded the last of the laundry, your hands trembling, and the tears you’d been holding back all day threatened to spill over. Your muscles ache from scrubbing floors, lifting heavy loads, and enduring their touch. You just needed to get out - out of this house, out of this oppressive atmosphere, away from the eyes that never stopped watching.

You rushed through the final tasks, barely paying attention to what you were doing, your mind consumed with the singular thought of escape. You could feel the tension in your chest growing tighter, your heart racing as you fought to keep it together for just a few more minutes.

Finally, with the last chore completed, you bolted for the door, your feet carrying you down the hallway at a frantic pace. You didn’t care where you were going, only that you needed to get away, to breathe, to find a moment of peace before you completely, finally, broke down.

You push through the front door, a breath away from the solitude you desperately crave, only to be stopped short. The night air is cool, but it does nothing to soothe the heat that lingers beneath your skin, the prickling unease that coils in your chest.

John stands on the porch’s stairs, the heavy wooden steps creaking under his weight. He’s smoking a cigar, the thick, pungent smoke curling around him in lazy spirals. The orange glow of the cigar’s tip flickers in the dim light, casting his face in harsh shadows. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with those sharp, assessing eyes that seem to see right through you. His presence is a wall, an unyielding barrier between you and the freedom you’re so close to grasping.

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. The tension you’ve been holding all day threatens to spill over, and for a moment, you consider turning back, retreating into the house, but the thought of being trapped in there with the others is too much to bear. You square your shoulders, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, even though every instinct screams at you to look away.

“Goin’ somewhere?” His voice is low, rough, and slightly muffled by the cigar clutched between his teeth.

You swallow hard, your throat dry. “Just... just done for the day.”

His gaze never wavers, and you feel the weight of it bearing down on you, suffocating in its intensity. He takes a slow, deliberate drag from the cigar, the end flaring bright, before exhaling a plume of smoke that curls around you, invasive and thick. It’s like a noose tightening around your neck, squeezing out any semblance of defiance you might have clung to.

He doesn’t need to say more, doesn’t need to invade your personal space or loom over you to assert his dominance. The entire house is his domain, and by extension, so are you. Everything within these walls bends to his will, and you’re no exception. He’s content to let you squirm under the weight of his gaze, to watch as the last vestiges of your resolve crumble away.

“Done, hmm?” He turns in place, blocking your path entirely, the solid bulk of his body an imposing wall between the handrails on each side of the steps. This was his move, this convenient smoke break. Just like Johnny smudging up the kitchen, Simon cornering you by the fridge, Kyle’s flirting. This was Price’s play.

His eyes narrow as he leans in, the warm scent of tobacco clinging to his breath. He’s perched two steps down, hunched over, yet still somehow managing to loom over you. His gaze sweeps over you slowly, lingering on the bruises peeking out from under your sleeves, the exhaustion etched into every line of your body.

“That’s good, love. You look knackered,” he says, his voice deceptively kind. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t let you pass. “Why don’t you rest up for a bit? You’ve earned it.”

You force yourself to stand a little straighter, to meet his gaze with what little strength you have left. The words catch in your throat, but you manage to choke them out. “No, I—” your voice wavers, betraying the tears that gloss over your eyes. "I'm done, John. I quit. I'm leaving."

His expression hardens, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. John shakes his head slowly, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

“Now, hold on,” he says, his voice a notch firmer, carrying a weight that makes your resolve falter. “You don’t want to do that, love. You’ve had a rough day, sure, but quitting? Just like that? That’s not the answer.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and persuasive, and for a moment, you waver, exhaustion clouding your judgment, blurring together your emotions. But then the reality of your situation crashes over you, a suffocating wave of despair.

“I can’t keep doing this,” you manage, voice trembling. “I’m done. I can’t... I just- can’t.”

John steps closer, his presence towering over you, the cigar now an afterthought as he speaks. “You’re tired. Worn out. But you need to think this over… Don’t make a decision you’ll regret.” He pauses, letting his words sink in, his gaze softening slightly, though his stance remains unyielding.

You just shake your head, a small, determined gesture. “No. I’ve made up my mind.”

John’s jaw tightens, and for a long, tense moment, he simply stares at you, the air thick with unspoken tension. Then, finally, he steps aside, just enough to let you pass, though his presence remains a lingering threat.

You take a tentative step forward, legs trembling beneath you. As you pass by him, your shoulder brushes against his firm chest, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. The stairs creak under your feet, and the moment you’re clear of him, you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

The cold evening air wraps around you like a frigid embrace as you reach the bottom step. You’re almost free, almost out of their reach, when a metallic jingle behind you freezes you in place. The sound is unmistakable, loud and distinct, each jingle a jolt in time with your pounding heart.

You don’t need to turn around to know what it is. Your fingers dig into an empty pocket, and panic seizes you as the realization hits.

“Forgetting something?” Price’s voice is calm, almost conversational, but there’s an edge to it, a coldness that sends a chill down your spine. You turn slowly, your eyes locking onto the keys dangling from his finger. The smirk on his face is faint, barely noticeable, but it’s there - a subtle twist of amusement that churns your stomach.

“I— You—” The words die in your throat as he takes a step closer, the keys clinking softly as he swings them idly. It’s a game to him, a cruel game where the rules are made and broken on a whim.

“Let’s talk about what’s got you so upset, yeah?” he murmurs, his voice curling around you like a possessive caress.

You stare at him, your mind racing, heart pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it. There’s no way out. No argument you can make that he won’t twist back on you. You’re too tired, too worn down to fight, and he knows it. He’s always known it.

So, you nod, a small, reluctant dip of your head that feels like the last shred of your resistance crumbling away. Price’s smile widens, just a fraction, and he steps back, gesturing toward the house with a nod.

He’s quick to pocket your keys and start up the steps, his presence a shadow that looms over you as he guides you back inside, into the darkness you’ll never truly escape. The door clicks shut behind you, sealing you inside the suffocating warmth of the home. The walls feel closer than ever, the space shrinking, constricting around you like a vice. Price’s hand on your lower back is both guiding and insistent, his touch firm and unyielding. You move as if in a trance, too drained to resist, too worn down to even try. Exhaustion has seeped into your bones, making every movement sluggish, every breath an effort.

You enter the living room, the muted sounds of a football game drifting from the TV. The flickering light casts erratic shadows across the room, but the game is nothing more than background noise, ignored by the men lounging on the couches. Kyle, Johnny, and Simon are there, their eyes shifting from the screen to you as you enter.

Johnny’s gaze locks on you first, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. There’s a predatory glint in his eyes that makes your stomach twist. Before you can even process what’s happening, he reaches out, his hand curling around your wrist with a firm grip, pulling you down onto the couch between him and Simon. The suddenness of it takes the breath from your lungs, and you find yourself sandwiched between the two men, the cushions sinking beneath your weight.

Price stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, watching the scene unfold with a frown. His presence looms like a dark cloud, heavy with unspoken authority. Johnny’s grip on your wrist tightens for a moment, his smirk widening, but it falters when Price’s glare lands on him, a silent warning that cuts through the tension in the room. There’s an unspoken message between them, a silent understanding that makes Johnny’s expression falter.

“Go on,” Price says, his voice low and calm, but with an underlying firmness that carries weight. “Tell them what you told me.”

The room falls silent, the sound of the football game on the TV a distant murmur in the background. All eyes are on you, waiting. The pressure is suffocating, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest, squeezing the air from your lungs. You glance from one face to another - Kyle’s furrowed brow, Simon’s icy glare, Johnny’s barely restrained anticipation - and feel the walls closing in around you, the space shrinking until it feels like you can’t breathe.

Price’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade. “Go on, love. We’re all listening.”

Your mouth is dry, words sticking in your throat like sandpaper. You know what they want to hear, what Price expects you to say. But the truth, the raw, ugly truth, clings to you like a second skin, impossible to shed even in the face of their looming presence.

“I... I told him I wanted to quit,” you finally manage, your voice barely more than a whisper, but the words hang in the air like a bomb about to detonate.

The reaction is immediate. Johnny’s grip on your wrist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin with a force that makes you wince. Kyle shifts in his seat, his expression darkening, a storm brewing behind his eyes. Simon leans back, arms crossed over his chest, the blank stare never leaving his face.

“Quit?” Johnny’s voice is sharp, disbelief and anger laced through it. He releases your wrist only to grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You want to just walk out on us? On this?”

Kyle’s expression softens, but there’s something calculating behind his gaze as he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Why, love? What’s got you thinking you need to leave?”

The room feels like it’s spinning, the pressure in your chest building until it feels like you might explode. Price remains silent, his presence a looming shadow behind you, waiting, watching, letting the others close in on you like a pack of wolves circling their prey.

“I’m tired,” you say, your voice shaking. “I can’t keep doing this. It’s too much.” You’re pleading now, desperation lacing your words as you look from one man to the next, searching for a glimmer of understanding, for a crack in their armour.

But Johnny’s grip on your chin only tightens, his blue eyes narrowing. “We’ve taken care of you, haven’t we? Given you everything you need. And now you’re just gonna walk away? After everything we’ve done for you?”

Kyle’s hand on your shoulder is gentle, but there’s a possessiveness in his touch that makes your skin crawl. “You’re tired. We get that, love. But this... We want you here. With us.”

Simon smirks from your other side and he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You think you can leave, but you won’t. We know you, love. We know what you need.”

The truth of his words slams into you, a brutal reminder of the tangled web you’re caught in. They do know you, better than anyone else. They know how to push you, how to break you, how to make you stay even when every instinct screams for you to run.

Price’s voice cuts through the chaos, calm and steady. “You’ve had a rough day. We understand. But running isn’t the answer.” His words are measured, deliberate, each one landing with the weight of a command. “You need to rest, relax. Think things through clearly later. Why don’t all just relax now, and we’ll talk it over in the morning with clear minds, hm?”

The finality in his tone leaves no room for argument. The decision has been made, the outcome already determined. You’re not leaving. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

You nod, the fight draining out of you, leaving only a hollow sense of resignation in its place. “Okay,” you whisper, the word barely audible, but it’s enough. Enough to satisfy them, to ease the tension that had been building like a pressure cooker ready to burst.

“Now, why don’t you lot help her relax?”

The room’s atmosphere shifts at Price’s suggestion, the tension transforming into something else, something darker, more insidious. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and you feel it settle over you like a heavy blanket, smothering any last spark of resistance.

Johnny’s grip on your chin softens slightly, but he doesn’t let go, his thumb brushing along your jaw in a slow, possessive stroke. His blue eyes lock onto yours, and there’s a flicker of something behind them, something dangerous and predatory. “That’s right, bonnie. Let us take care of you,” he murmurs, his voice low and coaxing, like a hunter luring prey into a trap.

Kyle’s hand slides down your shoulder, his touch lingering as it moves to the small of your back. “We just want what’s best for you,” he says softly, his voice filled with a gentle persuasion that only deepens the sense of entrapment. “You’re safe here with us. No need to worry about anything.”

Simon chuckles, the sound deep and resonant, vibrating through the space between you. He leans in closer, his chest to the back of your shoulders, his breath hot against your neck, and you can feel the heat radiating from him, seeping into you like a slow burn. “Not going anywhere, love,” he whispers, his voice a seductive purr. “Not until we’ve made sure you’re feeling better.”

Price steps forward, his presence a commanding force that draws all attention. His gaze sweeps over the scene, taking in the way you’re held between the three men, their bodies pressing in on you, surrounding you. There’s a calculated calmness in his expression, a cool detachment that only makes the situation more unnerving.

He gestures to the couch, his tone decisive. “Why don’t you lie down, love? Let the boys take care of you. You need to relax, just let us handle everything else.”

Johnny releases your chin but keeps a hand on your shoulder, guiding you gently but firmly backwards onto the couch. Kyle’s hand remains on your back, his touch both comforting and possessive, while Simon trails a hand along your arm, his fingers brushing over your skin with a familiarity that makes you shudder.

As you’re lowered onto the couch, the cushions sinking beneath your weight, a feeling of inevitability washes over you. You’re surrounded, hemmed in on all sides by their presence, by their touch. There’s no escape, no way out of this web they’ve spun around you. And as much as your mind screams for you to resist, to fight back, your body betrays you, too exhausted, too worn down to do anything but comply. Simon’s fingers stroke through your hair as your head rests against a solid thigh, his touch deceptively gentle. You feel worn down, sanded and scraped to your raw nerves.

Kyle’s hand rubs soothing circles on your back, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You’ve done enough today. Let us do the rest.”

Johnny leans over you, his breath warm against your cheek as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. “You belong here, with us. Always.”

Price watches from his place by the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. But there’s a satisfaction in his eyes, a silent approval of the way the men surround you, their touches more than just comforting. His authority looms over you like a dark cloud, a constant reminder that you’re not just in their care, you’re under their control.

You feel like you're in a dream, caught up in a haze of desire and submission. Your heart races, but you can't seem to get enough of the sensations coursing through your body. As Simon moves his fingers through your hair, bunching it out of Kyle’s path, you shiver slightly, goosebumps breaking out on your skin in response to his touch. His grip is firm but gentle, his other hand resting on your shoulder to keep you steady and pinned in place. The heat of his body feels like a blanket wrapping around you, protecting you from the chill in the air.

Kyle nuzzles his face into your neck, kissing softly first at the base of your ear and then trailing his lips down to your collarbone. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine, and the stubble on his chin scratches lightly against your skin in the most tantalizing way. His free hand works on the buttons of your shirt, slowly unfastening each one until he reaches the last one, which pops open with a satisfying sound. He slips his hand inside, tracing lazy circles on your stomach before dipping lower to run along the waistband of your pants. You shiver again as his fingers graze over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

They’ve never been gentle, affectionate with you like this, like something treasured. Three bodies press against yours, forming a cohesive unit, as if you were always meant to be here with them. The men's movements are slow and deliberate, as if they're in no hurry to rush this moment. They treat you like fine wine, savouring every sip, every touch, every breath you share.

Simon's hand finds its way to your chest, tracing lazy circles over the fabric of your shirt. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Wanna see you," he murmurs.

Kyle leans back slightly, giving Simon enough room to slip your shirt off your shoulders. It falls to the floor, revealing your torso to their gaze. The air is cool against your heated skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Beautiful," Johnny whispers, tracing patterns on your stomach with his fingers. Simon leans in closer, his lips brushing against your neck again. You can feel the roughness of his stubble against your soft skin, sending tingles down your spine. His hands find their way underneath you, lifting you slightly so that he can better reach the clasp of your bra. His kisses trail down your collarbone, making you shudder with anticipation.

Kyle's hand slides further down, slipping your underwear off your hips, down your thighs, and tossing them aside.

The air is thick with tension, charged with an energy that makes your skin prickle. As Kyle's fingers slide down your thighs, a soft, shuddering breath escapes you, the sensation almost too much to bear. You're laid bare before them, every inch of you exposed to their gaze, their touch. The cool air contrasts with the heat of their hands, a sensation that makes your breath hitch in your throat.

You’ve never felt this vulnerable, this helpless, and yet there’s a strange comfort in their presence. They surround you, hemming you in with their bodies, creating a barrier between you and the rest of the world. You’re caught in the eye of the storm, the chaos swirling around you yet leaving you untouched, cocooned in a false sense of security.

Johnny’s fingers trace delicate patterns across your skin, each touch igniting a spark that travels straight to your core. His eyes, usually sharp and mocking, are softened, filled with a tenderness that makes your heartache. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in an almost reverent gesture. “You’ll stay,” he whispers, the words a quiet echo of a truth you’ve fought so hard to deny.

Simon’s hand rests on your chest, his touch light but possessive. He watches you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, as if he’s memorizing every curve, every contour, committing you to memory. “You’re ours,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

Kyle’s hands, gentle yet insistent, guide your legs apart, his touch slow and deliberate as he explores every inch of your skin. He takes his time, savouring each moment, each reaction as if you’re something precious, something to be cherished. The way they move around you, the way they touch you - it’s different, it’s foreign. There’s an undercurrent of something more, something deeper, than just physical desire. It’s possessive, yes, but it’s also protective, like they’re staking their claim on you in a way that goes beyond mere ownership. The way one cherishes their favourite toy.

The world outside fades away, the weight of your exhaustion slipping from your shoulders as their touches ground you, anchoring you in the moment. It’s overwhelming, this attention, this care that feels almost tender, as if they’re trying to show you something, to tell you something with their hands, their lips, their bodies.

And yet, there’s a part of you that remains alert, a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you that this is a performance, a role you’re playing in a script they’ve written. The lines are blurred, the boundaries indistinct, but you can still see the edges, the places where the reality of your situation bleeds through the fantasy they’re trying to weave.

But for now, as Simon’s lips graze your neck, as Johnny’s fingers dance across your skin, as Kyle’s hands explore every inch of you, you let yourself be swept away in the tide, let yourself be carried by the current of their touch, their words.

It doesn’t matter that this kindness, this tenderness, is temporary. It doesn’t matter how easy it is for them to drag you right back into their web.

“Shit,” you hiss out when Kyle runs his tongue over your clit. It's all the warning you get before he pushes his face into you, mouth dropping open to let his tongue roll over your folds.

The sensation is so sudden, so shocking, that your back arches off the couch. The pleasure is almost unbearable, white-hot and searing, pooling low in your belly, making your toes curl. Your nails dig into the leather couch, your short nails leaving gouges in the soft material. “K-Kyle...” you gasp, barely able to form words.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, his smile wicked. “Like that, huh?” he purrs, his voice low and gravelly. His tongue swirls around your clit before flicking it once more, sending a spike of pleasure through you that makes your knees weak.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily against his face. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, the sensations too much to bear. Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps, your entire world narrowing down to the warmth of Kyle’s mouth on you, to the gentle caress of Simon’s and Johnny’s hands on your skin.

“That’s it, love,” Simon coos in your ear, his voice low and soothing, at odds with the fire they’re stoking within you. “Give in. Let go.”

But you can’t, not yet. Not when the memories of the past few weeks are still fresh in your mind, still raw and aching. You clench your jaw, willing yourself to hold on, to not let them win so easily. Kyle senses your hesitation, and his grip on your hips tightens, his ministrations becoming more insistent, more demanding.

He’s relentless, his tongue working its magic, his fingers dipping inside you, stroking you in time with his tongue’s movements. Two hands hold you open, another dipping into your entrance, toying with you so perfectly. Simon’s fingers snag on a tangle in your hair and the moan you let out is unbidden, loud and debauched and you’re coming, quivering and shaking as three pairs of hands play you expertly.

Your whole body trembles, your nails digging into the sofa cushions as waves of pleasure crash over you, eclipsing everything else. For one brief, blissful moment, you’re floating, suspended in the throes of ecstasy, your mind wiped clean of everything but the sensations coursing through you.

You’re dimly aware that you’re mewling, that your nails are digging into the leather so hard it’ll leave marks, but you can’t bring yourself to care. All that matters is the feeling, the way they’re making you feel. It’s too much, and yet, it’s not enough.

Kyle doesn’t relent, even as your climax begins to ebb, even as your muscles unclench and your grip on the couch loosens. He laps at you lazily, like he has all the time in the world, and a part of you wishes he did.

It’s only as the pleasure begins to ebb that you become aware of your surroundings again, of the panting of your own breath, the sticky heat between your legs, the three sets of eyes trained on you, dark and hungry and calculating.

Your eyes dart from face to face, searching for... what, exactly? Empathy? Understanding? A shred of humanity? But all you find in those depthless eyes is a cold, calculating hunger, a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine and has you clenching your thighs together in an effort to regain some semblance of control.

“Good,” Kyle says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips swollen and glistening. “Relaxed yet?”

You nod lazily. You feel like a ship without an anchor, floating adrift.

“That’s too bad.” Price hums from the door. “Gotta return the favour, don’t you?”

[ymechi]

Who is the real Creator?

Hello! I have a bit of an announcement to make I don't think everyone has seen the previous post but an anon asked me if I will continue the series and to be honest I don't think I will. This series was made on a whim and was really fun to write except I hit a roadblock. I am unsure where to continue with this I feel like I have written enough and not sure where to go from here story wise, that is why I decided to discontinue the story. Thank you everyone who commented and liked I enjoyed seeing your guys reactions. For now this is the last chapter. If I ever decide to continue this or make a new series I look forward to seeing you guys there!

-TW: cult au, yandere, impostor au, mentions of being hunted down, mentions of trauma, self harm (nothing major), OOC character

-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, this is part 6

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The beat of their heart was as loud as a drum. Reader could even feel their head vibrate in tandem with the marching drums they had heard before when they were younger. Their vision felt blurry and their head was light. The fading sun outside the windows caught their eye. Reader felt nauseous.

They were such a coward they had left Nahida and Wanderer to clean up after them as they ran away. Reader wanted to help her not add more trouble yet here they were weak and unable to speak.

Distantly they heard a gasp.

"Reader! Are you okay? Oh no- Traveller come quick!"

Two blurry figures came closer to Reader. They idly noted one of the figures was floating. . . Ohh, it was Paimon and Aether.

Seeing the two somehow calmed them down and they tried to take deep breaths. With a calmer and clearer mind, they noticed that both stared at Reader with worried expressions.

Reader gave a wry smile.

"Hi Paimon, hi Traveller."

The two said nothing staring at Reader and then at each other coming to an agreement of some sort.

"Paimon thinks you should sit down first," she said, trailing off and looking down.

Reader also noticed Aether was looking down as well to the side, it was then it dawned on Reader they were looking at their sliced palm. They subconsciously tried to hide it but stopped midway bringing it forward towards the duo.

"I guess you two were also summoned but were late haha," they said with a flat laugh.

Traveler continued to look at them with a worried frown and Paimon who usually had a positive expression looked even more worried. Reader's wry smile seemed not to work sadly.

"P-Paimon is still not sure what is going on but Paimon thinks you should sit down first. . ."

"I agree let's get you somewhere to rest first."

Aether reached his hand out as an invite and Reader felt too weak to reject him. He took their hand and guided them further down the hall towards a seating area where guests could sit. There Reader was able to sit down and calm down.

"Thanks, I do feel better."

Aether smiled and nodded while Paimon's eyes sifted from looking at them and then at a wall.

"Uhm- so Paimon has been wondering. . ."

It was obvious what she was referring to. They held the sliced palm with the other hand almost cradling it.

"Sorry, I did not mean to keep it from you guys. . . I just found out recently as well, I-I hope you are not mad."

"What! Why would we be mad? You are the creator- Oh no should we bow?" Paimon said looking at Reader then around as if someone would pop up and admonish her.

Traveler shook his head at his companion's antics and gave Reader a sad smile.

"I hope you can forgive out-"

"Oh no stop there!"

Reader jumped out quickly from their seat causing the duo to step back (the other to float back) in shock. Reader stepped forward and looked at them with a serious expression.

"I don't care if I am some creator or whatever and I don't care about that formal shit, especially when you two are my friends!"

Reader was not sure where this outburst came from. Was it because of the stressful day? Was it having to see people you did not like or was it because of having to watch Wanderer act subservient for so long?

"So no your grace or bowing!"

The two still looked aback. Suddenly Reader felt embarrassed shouting at them when they were concerned about her.

"W-well uhm, sorry, yeah I should not have shouted. . ."

Reader wrung their hands together but stopped when they noticed the sliced palm. They looked down at their shoes.

"Paimon. . . Paimon thinks of you as a friend too," she said and her cheeks turned red.

Reader smiled at her and Traveller sighed but gave the floating girl a smile.

"If that is what you wish for then who are we to say no?"

He sounded a tad bit too formal for Reader but it would have to do for now.

"None of that now, how have the two of you been?"

Paimon opened her mouth about to answer Reader's question but she was interrupted unexpectedly.

"Your Grace-"

Reader's heart skipped a beat and not the good kind. The calm they experienced before was gone and their body froze again. The one who spoke was unmistakably the retired geo Archon. He looked frazzled and looked at Reader in a way they could not decipher.

"Your grace I. . ."

"That is enough I had already told you they were not ready to talk to you yet."

Nahida came afterward it looks like she rushed over to where they were. Her face was stern and it looked so out of place compared to her more relaxed and curious features. Reader's stomach clenched. Zhongli looked as if he wanted to argue with her. His face took on a harsher stance as he looked at her.

No.

They would not let him.

"Whatever it is you want to say it's with me leave her out of this."

Their hands were shaking but they held them together. Nahida looked surprised at them and Reader wanted to reassure her it was going to be alright. Aether from his side approached them and stood between the Archon and Reader. The implication that he was willing to defend them from one of the strongest beings in Teyvat was not lost on Reader. They did feel safer by having him on their side and Paimon as well.

"Your grace I," Zhongli paused his gaze on Reader with a guilty look that made them feel uncomfortable, "If I had known if only. . ."

"That does not matter anymore," Reader interrupted him.

He looked at them and flinched.

"Save your what 'ifs’, you did what you did and I won't forget it."

The unexpected venom that came out of Reader surprised even them. Zhongli had taken to look down he looked ashamed, how dare he? Now he wants to act all guilty. Reader scoffed.

"You have done enough damage for today, I suggest you leave neither me or the Dendro Archon are in a mood to deal with you," Reader said and crossed their arms.

They idly wondered if the meeting had gone awry for her to come here. Nahida looked thoroughly surprised.

Zhongli opened his mouth to speak but Reader beat him to it.

"That is all I have nothing more to say."

"I think I will take it over here with Mr. Zhongli and the rest."

They nodded at Nahida. Reader tugged at Aether's scarf for him to follow them.

.

.

.

They entered Reader's new room and their muscles went lax. It felt though as if they had carried a heavy boulder. They threw decorum away and sat on their desk stool.

"Sorry, I think I need a bit of rest."

"It's okay Paimon doesn't think anyone would handle talking to a guy that tried to kill as well as you did."

Aether glared at Paimon and she jumped up in the air while still floating.

"Maybe Paimon should not have said that. . ."

Reader looked at her and shook their head with a smile.

"It's okay, you sort of reminded me I did something pretty cool huh?"

Paimon's expression eased and she nodded.

"While Zhongli is our friend what he did to you was unforgivable so Paimon thinks he ought to get kicked around for what he did."

"Heh, it seems like you can speak some sense from time to time."

It was Wanderer who had entered when the door was still unopened. Paimon did look angry at his remark.

"You! What do you mean Paimon always says things that make sense!"

"Yeah sure," he said with a mocking smile and crossed his arms.

"You came early did something happen?" Reader spoke.

Wanderer uncrossed his arms and shook his head.

"No Lesser Lord Kusanali came back with the funeral consultant and told me to look out for you."

Ohh, Reader's heart melted a bit. They really had a good friend, next time they should make her something as thanks.

"Paimon has a question are you planning to announce it to everyone that you are the creator?"

Aether looked at Reader more intently as well. It seemed he was interested in the topic.

"No, I rather not, we decided to let the acolytes know for now their words hold some sway if they could calm the public down after the 'fake' left."

Aether had a thoughtful expression and nodded at Reader's answer. Perhaps he guessed Reader was not in the mood to talk about this particular topic and left it a that. Reader was once again thankful for their friend's thoughtfulness.

"Sorry for all the drama today take a seat what have you two been up to?"

Aether smiled and sat down while Wanderer ever the polite one bought fruits and left to get some tea. The Traveler and his companion told them of the many new adventures they had and the people they met. After Wanderer came back with the tea all of them sat down and listened as Paimon did a dramatic retelling of a recent commission they took on.

"I see everyone is having a fun time."

"Nahida!" Reader went out of their seat to check on the Archon.

"I hope there was not too much trouble are all right? Did something happen?"

"No worries I am fine and nothing happened it took a while to convince some to leave, there were acolytes who wanted to meet you."

Reader grimaced.

"Yeah sorry, next time I won't run away like that."

Nahida shook her head.

"No, it is part of my duty, there is no need for you to do it if you don't feel like it."

"You shouldn't have to shoulder this," Reader argued.

"Lesser Lord Kusanali is right if you are not ready it might do more damage to your health," Wandered interjected.

At that Reader could only be silent. They felt so helpless.

"For now let Nahida handle it you can be there and see how much you can handle," Wanderer said after sighing.

Reader wrung their hands together and looked at Nahida with a guilty look.

"If it's okay with you could I?"

"Only if you think you can handle it."

For now that would be their solution.

Reader ushered Nahida to take a seat and poured her some tea. Paimon took it upon herself to start over her tale once again since Nahida was there and the Wanderer scoffed at her which caused them to bicker for a few seconds. Reader could only laugh behind their hand. The rest of the day was spent comfortably talking.

"It is getting late Paimon doesn't want to intrude any longer."

The Traveller nodded as well.

"Wait you both could stay in my room?"

Traveller and Paimon looked surprised.

"We don't want to interrupt your resting time there is also only one bed."

"The bed is big enough for all of us we can have a sleepover?"

Reader wrung their hands together. It was just, they did not want to sleep alone today.

Traveller and Paimon looked at each other they must have had a silent conversation.

"If you are okay with it Reader."

"Yeah it would be nice I haven't had a sleepover in a long while Nahida and Wanderer you could join in if you want to." They said with a smile.

"I've never had one before but I would love to try it out."

Wanderer was silent for a while before he quietly answered.

"I will join then. . ."

Reader smiled it almost hurt their face. They gathered a lot of pillows and extra blankets just in case. Reader took the middle while Nahida was to the right and Paimon to the left. Respectievly Aether took Paimon's side and Wanderer slept next to Nahida. It really did feel like a huge sleepover. Reader slept soundly that night sourrended in warmth.

Extra:

Reader felt warm and fuzzy images of Christmas lights surrounding their vision. the lights were blurry and smudged. Gentle snow started to fall blanketing the ground in white. The blanket that surrounded them kept them warm and they snuggled closer to it.

The stars above twinkled and They watched with interest as they changed shape and colour. Then a star started to fall, no it was a snowflake. A huge giant snowflake was falling towards Reader and they tried to struggle but it was in vain as the blanket held them in place. With horror they watched as the snowflake landed on their head.

It was rather soft and it did not hurt but the snowflake was beginning to limit their breathing. Reader tried to open their mouth to breathe in more air.

With a gasp, they woke up.

The thing smothering their face was not a snowflake or anything nefarious but rather Paimon herself. Somehow she had ended up on their face. They struggled to shake her off and after a few seconds of prying she rolled off to the side.

She was still asleep her mouth open and she mumbled something about food no doubt.

Reader sighed.

They blinked a few times as they looked out to the window where the sun was shining. It was already morning.

Reader was rather in a bind, literally. Nahida had curled up in her chest, she looked so small and cute Reader’s heart melted and they wanted to pat her head. Their feet somehow got tangled up with Wanderer’s and to the side Aether was hugging their arm.

They could not get up.

”If I was in a different room I would still be able to hear your squirms.”

It was wanderer who woke up. His voice was hoarse. Now that they thought about it Reader had no idea if he could sleep or if he even needed to.

”Sorry,” they said whispering.

Wanderer sighed and came closer towards Reader shutting his eyes.

Wait, was he not going to get up at all?

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Taglist: @resident-cryptid @probablynoposts @esthelily @mitsukashi @charming-mage @chaoticfivesworld @irisxiel @dulcedelechenginamo @yu-ulda @samohxt2-0 @pinkpainc @vianitry @dreamlessnight @kurayamioterasu @fantasyhopperhea @victoria1676 @liansh3ng @game-savvy @uchihaeirin @awelygirl @klemen-time @synthe4u @deadgirldreaming @quacking-simp

[in-som-niyah]

soft/domestic!Jason with an overstimulated!reader where he just squashes her in a hug until she calms down???????/

GIVE US THISSSS PLSSS

i keep my promises <3

"These arms are always yours, love"

soft!Jason Todd x overstimulated!fem!Reader

WARNINGS: graphic description of skin picking?? (not self-harm)

Today was going to be a shitty day.

The moment your eyes cracked open to an absence of sun peeking through the window, you knew outside was going to be gloomy.

You turned your head to face your nightstand, but in doing so, increase your awareness on how the sheets feel on your body. Were they always this rough? Surely the fabric softener did its job, right?

Groaning, you made your way out of bed, your feet planting themselves on the small rug on your side of the bed. It was a soft contrast from your now-cold, rough sheets.

As you took a step toward your dresser, you felt a crunch beneath your left foot. Though it was dark, you could make out the leftover potato chip crumbs from the bag Jason was eating before he went on patrol for the night.

You asked him not to eat it there to prevent this exact scenario, but here you fucking are.

Now, you were annoyed at not only the fact that the sun in Gotham is apparently having the same shitty day as you, but now you also have to clean up something that shouldn't be there in the first place.

Thankfully, it was a Sunday, meaning you had Jason all day to make more fucking messes. Yay.

Your spitefulness wasn't warranted, but in the moment, you didn't care.

As you carried on picking the remains of the food off of your foot, Jason stirs on the bed, scanning the other half of the bed with his arms. Seeing that he can't find what he's looking for, he relents and opens his eyes.

Jason knows something is up.

But, he won't push. Not yet.

"why're you s'far away?" he slurs, half awake and starting to shiver since he flung the covers off looking for you.

You wanted to answer him, you wanted to jump back in his arms and hold onto the scent of his skin forever, but you were too annoyed and anxious to say anything.

"No reason." you quip. Far too snappy for such a groggy early morning. Jason knows you've been up for a while now.

Before any more words could potentially be exchanged, you tugged on a pair of clean sweatpants and one of your own shirts. Usually, you would wear one of Jason's to the point where you genuinely forgot you had your own drawer full of clothes.

You storm your way out of the room quickly and go straight to the bathroom to take off your bonnet and fix your hair.

Lo and behold, the twist out didn't work out as intended, and now your hair didn't look as you wanted. The curls were wonky, there was almost no volume, and the back was still wet.

Your frustrated eyes land on Jason's clippers. Through and impulsive rage, you wanted to take it to your head and juts be done with it. This was not the first time your hair didn't work out, nor the first time you wanted to cut all of it off.

Suddenly back in reality, you begin to feel guilty for snapping at Jason earlier, and thinking so badly of him.

God, is this who I am?

All you wanted to do was burst back in there and hug him and tell him that you didn't mean it and that you were sorry and-

Hot tears began streaming down your face, burning rivers into your sullen face. Above all, you craved Jason, but he deserved the sleep and peace on the rare occasions he has to relax. Why couldn't you be peaceful?

You covered your sobs, which only made your feelings worse. The bathroom tile was too cold, but you were too warm at the same time.

It was so dark but too bright. Your skin felt hot but frigid at the same time.

Every quick expansion of your lungs pushing against your ribcage hurt badly. It didn't help that you were beginning to hyperventilate.

Speaking of hyperventilation, you soon realized that even though you weren't sobbing anymore , you couldn't breathe.

Your lungs were taking in all the air around you but also none at all, and you felt lightheaded.

At the same time, your skin began to itch from the beads of sweat surfacing, and your sharp nails began to dig into your skin to scratch it.

Drag after drag of nails on your skin caused it to feel raw and exposed.

While you were caught in your own whirlwind, you didn't hear Jason call out to you. Or his frantic footsteps when you didn't respond. Or his pleas for you to open your eyes and pay attention to him.

Jason was beyond worried when he saw you, panicked and frightened, digging into your skin and rushed to stop you.

He gently pried your fingers from your skin and made a mental note to talk to you about it later.

"Hey shhh baby, no more of that...it hurt's doesn't it?" he cooed as he began to hold your sharp fingers in his hands.

You nod tentatively, still trying to will air to stay in your lungs for longer than half a second.

"Alright princess, you're gonna breathe with me, okay?" Jason says as he tries to hide how concerned he was in effort to keep you as calm as possible.

"Okay breathe in" he begins, eyes trained on your eyes and hands massaging your palms.

You follow his prompts to the best of your abilities, trying to control your breaths the way he does.

After a few cycles of calm breathing, the guilt has nested itself fully in the pits of your stomach.

How could he be so kind after you thought so ill of him juts a few moments ago?

Surely you didn't deserve this.

Surely, he was playing a sick joke on you.

There's no way that he could actually lo-

"Princess? You here with me?" Jason's calm voice cutting through your thoughts.

You look up at him, shame set deep in your eyes.

"I'm so-"

"Nope." he quips with practices ease.

"But I-" you try again, this time determined.

"No. You will not apologize to me for being human." He insists as he rests his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes at the contact, a stark contrast to the sickly feeling your skin had moments ago.

Your eyes begin to sting once more as thoughts of being undeserving of such kindness resurface. You turn your head away from him and haul yourself up from the floor in effort to avoid him seeing you cry again.

As you turn away to step out the door, barely holding back a sob, Jason's warm, soft hand catches your wrist. Gently, he pulls you back into him and wraps his strong arms around you.

Careful not to crush you, he squeezes, physically pressing all his love for you into the hug as you continued to cry softly.

"'m not upset baby, I promise i'm not" Jason reassures as he rocks you in his arms.

He is all too familiar with the guilt you're feeling and so desperately wishes he could make it go away. He knows what it's like to say and think hurtful things you don't necessarily mean about the people you love.

His arms begin to rub at your back, soothing your inner hurt. You felt safe, calm and protected in his embrace.

Slowly, you calmed and your sobs were reduced to sniffles.

Jason tried to let go and move you, but you clung to his tighter in silent refusal.

He chuckles at you gripping his shirt and barely shaking your head that was buried in his chest.

"Alright, alright. These arms are always yours, love."

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i'm so sorry its taking me so long to finish these requests my chronic pain is making it hard to be a human rn

[alienoresimagines]

What about blush for the way to kiss prompt? 👀😊

[ blush ] for a kiss on the cheek

Here's 700-ish words of Buck being sleepy and pining, a mix that leaves him with none of his usual reserve resulting in a blushy Bucky 💕 I hope it can cheer you up a bit, Ame 🥺❤️ Also on AO3

Buck has too much to do and too little sleep, or alternatively, coffee, in his veins to be an amiable company. Yet John still insists on driving him to the mess with the jeep he isn't supposed to have and Gale can't say no; he's too tired to walk the 20 minutes to the mess or to bike there. Bucky's driving might just wake him up a bit actually. 

Except that 2 minutes in he finds himself dozing off, despite the bumps he knows to be on the road. Either he's more tired than he thought and hasn't even registered they'd passed them or John is driving deliberately slowly. The thought shakes him from his imminent slumber to find Bucky looking careful of all things as he drives the jeep, slowing down before each bump, driving them smoothly down the road. He hasn't even spoken a word since the engine roared to life, and warmth blooms deep in Gale's chest, spreading to his very toes as though back in Wyoming, lounging in a field under the summer sun.

Of course, Bucky would notice his being quieter than usual and offer him a relaxing drive to give him a few more precious minutes of sleep. 

However, Bucky thinking Gale would prefer silence over his chatter is nothing short of unacceptable.

Rubbing the last remnants of sleep off his eyes with his hand, he wills himself awake and ignores the exhaustion still clinging on to the marrow of his bones.

"You gettin' breakfast with me?" Bucky startles at his voice and frowns at him, as though surprised to see him awake. A sudden fear grips at Gale's heart that the other would offer to sing him to sleep but to his relief, John only rumbles a negative noise as he pulls to a stop to let mechanics cross the road.

"I'm Meatball's lawyer for the morning," that does peak Gale's interest, the mention of the dog enough to bring a light smile to his face. Nonetheless, the engine rumbling underneath him doesn't help his battle with sleep so Gale pinches at the bridge of his nose in hopes it would wake him up. Next to him, John observes him silently for a moment, mouth doing that little quirk it does when he wants to speak but hasn't decided on what to say yet.

The little mole on his chin is entirely too distracting for Gale's sleep-addled mind.

"What does Meatball need a lawyer for?" In Gale's opinion, the dog could do no wrong except howling his ears off when Benny puts him on a plane but apparently, one English farmer has a different opinion, according to John. Eyes slipping closed, lulled by the movements of the car and John's voice -which is decidedly quieter and softer than usual but that's something for future Gale to mull over, he decides-, he drifts in and out of sleep, a fake New-yorker accent washing over him like the warm breeze of summer spent in golden fields. There's a fleeting warmth on his left knee, and if his eyes weren't glued shut he'd open them to check it is what he thinks it is, the broadness and warmth of John's palm unmistakable, but as it is, he can only find comfort in it.

The next thing he knows, the car is pulling to a stop and Gale startles awake at the clamor of men leaving the mess, joyous chatter too loud in his ears compared to John's soothing voice. 

From the entrance of the building, Benny calls out his name then gestures inside, probably to let him know he'd save him a seat and Gale nods, a bit saddened the drive was so short. On his left, John is drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, exchanging a few quips with passersby and he looks so handsome in the early morning light, so sweet in his care that Gale's still not fully awake mind cannot find a reason not to lean over to feel a clean-shaven cheek against his lips. 

Mint and the distinctive smell of John's cologne surround him for a moment that is definitely too short, and all he can think about is how it would feel, now that he knows how soft John's cheek is, to kiss his lips and the coarse hair of his mustache. Against him, John freezes but barely a second passes before Gale mutters a "Thanks for the ride, Bucky" and slips out of the jeep and into the mess.

Behind him, John stares bewildered at his back, mouth slightly open in shock and ears red as berries, slowly bringing his hand to his cheek to trace the ghost of Gale's soft lips with his fingers.

What just happened? 

My other Clegan fics

[lunajay33]

New World🪵🍂

Summary: You grew up in a crappy town with one friend who kept you going, everything started to fall into place, that’s until the world ended and the dead ruled the world

•Masterlist•

I just came home from teaching, throwing myself down on the couch, usually Daryl stops by every night for supper and it’s been a tradition we have continued every night since I came back from college

I hated leaving but I needed to get out of this shitty town for a bit, and when I got the opportunity to come back and teach I had to, I couldn’t be apart from Daryl, my best friend, anymore

We’ve been friends since his mom died, my parents told me about his mom and so the next day in school I sat with him at lunch and from then on we have been inseparable, sure he was a hard nut to crack but after that he was the sweetest kindest person I’ve ever met

As I got up to start dinner the door burst open and Daryl and Merle came running in frantic

“Guys what’s wrong?” I asked worried

“Ya need to get yer fine ass movin” Merle laughed

I never liked Merle he was a terrible person and a terrible brother

“We need to go..now” Daryl said grabbing a bag off my counter and throwing a bunch of food in it before taking my hand and dragging me to his truck while Merle got on his bike

“Daryl what’s going on you’re scaring me” my voice trembled as he started up the truck and followed Merle down a back road out of town

“Shits happenin, people are dyin, comin back and eatin everyone, we just gotta get outta here” he said taking my hand in his

“Oh god…..well where are we going”

“Up to that quarry I took ya to last summer, it’ll be far away enough from the city and we got fresh water, don’ worry sunshine I’ll keep ya safe” he said giving me a reassuring squeeze

It was silent for most of the drive all I could hear was the blood pumping in my ears, how could this be happening? What was going to happen now, everything was just falling into place, me and Daryl were just planning to go on a trip to Tennessee too but I guess that’s down the drain

Everything I imagined for my life felt like it was slipping away

“Remember that first day we became friends?” I asked trying to distract myself

“Yeah, ya came and sat with me at lunch, had that green dress on and lil matching bows in yer hair, ya were my first friend, glad ya came up to me that day” he smiled looking at me

“I’m glad too, you were so scared and a blushing mess when I was talking to you, it was adorable then I gave you my cookies and you finally opened up to me” I laughed remembering him snatching my pouch of cookies when I held it out to him

“I wouldn’ cute” he groaned

“Come on Daryl you were adorable you still are” I teased loving how he was getting red

“Stop that” he gentle pushed me making me laugh

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long drive we finally made it to the quarry only to find a few people already camped out but thankfully they allowed I three to stay given Daryl and Merle’s hunting abilities

As daryl and Merle were setting up the tent I went around getting to know everyone and asking them what they knew about everything, it’s been scary everyone’s experience and lucky I had Daryl to get me out safely

As the sun got closer to setting I and the air was cooling I helped Lori clean some fish as she laid it over the fire

“Do you need anymore help?” I asked tired

“No dear you go relax for now we will come get you when everything’s ready” she smiled

I smiled and nodded as I made my way over to the tent, unzipping it I found Daryl and Merle having a heated conversation

I stepped in and took my usual place next to Daryl on his sleeping bag

“What’s going on?”

“There’s lots of folks here I say we jack all there stuff and get outta here ‘fore the sun rises” Merle said smirking

“Come on Merle these are good people we need to stick together and we are in a good place can we just see how things go I don’t wanna leave”

“Damn pussy, I knew we shouldn’ have come and got ya” he groaned as he left the tent

I sighed and turned to look at Daryl and of course he had a defeated look

“It’ll be okay Daryl! I’ve gone around and they seem like a good group to be with everyone carries their own part, we can make it work” I smiled trying to cheer him up

He didn’t say anything which was typical but I was fine with that I knew he wasn’t much of a talker I just hoped my words got through to him a bit

“So…..where am I sleeping tonight” I asked trying to avert the conversation

“Ya can take my sleepin bag I got a blanket I can use” he said looking back at the little thin blanket by the sleeping bag

“No daryl it’s your sleeping bag I can take the blanket”

“Nah ya ain’t doin that”

“Well….i mean the sleeping bag is big enough for us both to fit” I said feeling the heat rise to my cheeks, but it’s not like daryl and I have never shared a bed, we’ve had many sleepovers as kids when his dad was being an ass but this felt…..different

He shrugged his shoulder “sure might get cold tonigh’ anyways” always the survival man

“Okay umm….dinner should be ready soon we should go set up around the fire” i said standing up and pulling my shoes back on, I looked back at him and he was just staring

“Ya coming?”

“Ya I’ll be out soon” he said grunting as if clearing his voice

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daryl’s pov

Me and Merle were coming back from hunting when we safe people on the sidewalks being torn apart, guts everywhere, people screaming and and we knew we had to get outta here

“We gotta get away from these things, we’ll stop by the house get some shit, my bike and we will head to the quarry” Merle said speeding to our crappy house

After we got everything I stopped Merle

“We gotta get y/n, I can’ leave her”

“Nah leave that slut here, just gonna slow us down”

“Man im gettin her, ya either follow me or not but im gettin her” I groaned as I hoped in the truck and drove off the her place

After I got her she was so panicked but tried not to show it but I could see it in the way she acted, I’ll do anything to keep her safe even if I gotta but my life on the line, she everything to me and has been the only one to keep me going, she’s my sunshine

~~~~~~~~

Normal POV

I got a seat on a log pushed up close to the fire some were sitting around as there was two fires going to keep the flames not as big

Finally Daryl came out and I pat the spot next to me while he laid a blanket over my shoulders

“Thank you” I smiled he always showed his friendship to me in little ways and they always made me feel warm inside

I handed him a plate of fish and some random vegetables the group has found

“So y/n, how long have you guys been together?” Jacqui asked startling me with such a question

“What?”daryl asked confused

“You and y/n, you’re a couple aren’t you, you both seem like the perfect couple” she smiled

“Oh no he’s my best friend, been friends since we were 9, barely been apart”

I looked at Daryl and he was clearly uncomfortable and the people around us could sense it as well so they carried on with their own conversations

After we finished eating he stood up and left towards the tent, I sat my plate ontop of his and thanked the girls for supper and headed of towards the tent as well

“Can I come in?” I asked at the tent door

“Ya” he grunted as I heard him shuffle around

I unzipped it seeing him changed into more comfortable clothes sitting on his sleeping bag

I zipped the tent back up and smiled

“Maybe I should have packed some clothes quickly before we left now I gotta sleep in jeans”

He shuffled through his bag and pulled out one of my big night shirts

“Where’d you get this?” I asked confused

“When ya come over for the night sometimes ya left a few things and I kept them just incase, thought I’d bring em along” he shrugged

“Thank god for those sleepovers then, mind if I change in here?” I asked taking the shirt from him

“Sure” he turned as I started to unzip my pants and pull off my shirt, quick to haul the oversized shirt over my head as I came down to the middle of my thigh

I folded up my jeans and “day” shirt and laid it by his bag

“K I’m done” he turned and started to crawl his way into the sleeping bag

He opened one side and waited for me me to join, it was snug but with the chilly night air god was it warm, I turned so my back was to his chest so we could fit more comfortably and he laid his arm over my waist

“Where’s Merle?” I asked not having seen him all night

“Said he was going down to the quarry must have wanted to get his own fish er somethin?” I hummed in understanding feeling my eyelids getting heavier

“Daryl….please don’t ever leave me” I said finally understanding the weight of everything and that this is probably gonna be our forever world now

He grabbed my waist and held me closer

“I ain’ never leavin ya”

My heart felt a bit later after such a strenuous day

“Good night Daryl” I said as I laid my hand ontop of his

“Night sunshine”

—-///—-///—-///—-///—-///—-

How is everyone liking the first chapter of this new series! I’ve very excited for this story! If you wanna be part of the taglist lmk!!

Taglist: @ghostboneswrites

Part 2<-