#i would die laughing at my brain forever if so.

[soymilkwriter]

As a writer and a romantic, I am surrounded by love. Whether I read poetry, write my own, or read my romance novels, I can’t escape falling in love. I spent most of my teenage and young adult years believing I would only ever experience love vicariously through my friends or the media I consumed. I never knew I was worthy of love or attention. I wrote about it, read about it, witnessed it, and yet still felt like I would never be able to experience it. I hated this. For years, I lived on the sidelines, envious of everyone around me. I loved love, and I still do. But I hated never being able to experience any of it for myself. The soft glances or the smiles only the two of you understood. Then, I met him.          Every writer always talks about “the first meeting.” What they felt when the love of their life first entered their lives. Maybe the world went quiet, or perhaps they locked eyes, and their heart stopped. I’ve known of him for a long time before I officially met him. I figured we’d cross paths every couple of months, maybe have a conversation here and there about what’s going on in our lives. Nothing more but a friend in passing. My heart was intrigued while my brain did everything possible to undermine how much I wanted to get to know him. I could sit and write for hours the thoughts that entered my brain when I knew I’d have to see him, the random nerves I could never quite explain. I hoped every time I saw him, the meeting would go better than the last. I won’t be so nervous this time, or I’ll make him laugh with a quick joke. My insecurities got the best of me for a while, and I realized I wouldn’t see him for a while, so what’s the point of trying? But something in me refused to let this one go.          I knew I fell in love with him because being with him never felt forced. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone I wasn’t from the first time we ever hung out on our own. The moment he smiled at me; it was like an unspoken way of telling me that he was someone I could be safe with no matter what relationship we would ever hold in the future. I knew I fell in love with him because his arms around me felt like another extension of me instead of something suffocating, when hugging him felt like going home. When he laughs, I get angry at the world for depriving me of that laugh for years. When he speaks to me about his interests, I would choose to listen to him for hours over my favorite songs. When he looks at me, I don’t just feel like I am loved. I feel like I am the definition of love.               My whole life, I was told that hating me was easy while loving me was difficult. Because of that, I thought everyone was hard to love. People have their flaws; I know I have many. They can be mean, selfish, and complicated. Everyone complaining to me about their boyfriends made it seem like loving them was a chore. But loving him feels easier than breathing. They say when a writer falls in love with you, you can never die. Whether I get to have him forever or for a moment, may my love for him be immortalized anyway.

[milo-is-rambling]

Me vs confusing gender thoughts vs mental illness

[snowsinterlude]

stuffed.

(coriolanus snow x f. reader)

summary: what better way to show your affection towards one than trapping them by your side forever? well, if there was one, president snow didn't knew about it.

c.w: forced breeding, baby trapping, president snow, cnc, slapping, forced creampie, possessiveness, stockholm syndrome at the end, fem. reader, reader is (was) a opera singer

singing like there was no tomorrow was something you did quite often, being a opera singer to the capitol was the best thing that could've happened to you before. especially since you were from the districts.

so now, knowing the president is your fan (something you didn't expected, not even in a thousand years), you were singing your heart out at his parties. every bouquet of white roses he gave you always hid something. pearls, diamonds, earrings of white colored jews. he seemed to like white very much- even though his suit was always the red ones.

then, there was money.

the motive for him to give so many things was revealed when he was pinning you on the wall, the posca he drank seemed to have took control over his brain. somehow, you didn't mind it. maybe because the idea of being the president's favorite girl was something quite appealing- something your stupid self seemed to like very much.

feeling so desired, feeling so loved was something adorable, lovely. especially when he woupd promise you so many things.

you didn't believe any of them. you always made sure to be on the pill, always made sure to put a condom on his dick, always made sure to tell him to pull out when you didn't had a condom.

he was tired of it. he wanted you to be pregnant for him, wanted to see your belly showing through your clothes and the fantasies you used when performing. he wanted you closed on his room with your legs open and your pussy wet- he wanted to kill all of those who were thirsting over you, over the way your corset hugged your body so nicely and made your boobs bounce.

with that in his mind, you noticed just how rude he was tonight.

"i want you to be my wife," he said, midfucking. he would always say things like that while pounding inside you. it was crystal clear to you that he didn’t really wanted it, or so you thought, because his intention ever since he saw you was to fuck his babies into you and make you bear all of them.

"c-cory, let's talk about it later- oh, fuck!" you moaned, fucking yourself on him as his dick entered you so nicely, hitting all the right spots. as always.

you recieved a slap on your ass, accompanied by a thick, strong grab. "not later," he pounded inside you, hand on your waist, grabbing you so tightly you felt like you'd simply die at his touch. maybe it was a good thing. "now. 'wanna talk about it now."

you mewled as he thrusted inside your cunt again, his dick hitting all the right spots, from your cervix to your sweet g spot. "n-no, later, mm, truly."

he slapped your clit. it was getting rough now. you could notice from how hard he bit your nipple, it's not that you don't like it- it's just because you weren't ready for it.

"i'm serious, dove. i want you to be my wife." you didn't listen, too caught up in the pleasure, in the painful bites on your nipple, on the angry soft slaps on your swollen clit.

"s-stop it, you know i can't- i'm a performer, i-"

"i don't fucking care," he grunted, his nails buried into your skin "you're mine. from the moment i layed my eyes on you you were mine." he said, looking at your mewling melted state. "you're so wet, so tight on me, and yet you claim you don't want to be my wife?"

he laughed, as if telling a joke to himself, as if that was the biggest joke on the world. each two thrusts made you squirm, you already came some minutes ago. there were two condoms filled to the brim with his seed by your side on the bed of his guest room.

trying your best not to cum again, he took himself out of you, taking the condom of your side into his hands. he hated the texture. if it depended on him he would fuck you raw everytime. and yet there he was, obediently following your rules just to fuck you senseless.

"w-wait, what are you doing? stop. stop it! ah, fuck!" you squirmed at the hot feeling of his cum entering you, being poured inside of you, it felt so good you couldn't help but want more, for your own surprise. "p-president snow-"

"now is president? until some seconds ago it was coryo." he said, fingering his own cum inside you, making sure nothing would spill.

"p-please stop, i can't be pregnant-"

"you can." he stuffed you with it again, spilled all the cum of he other condom inside you "you will. i'll make sure of that"

taking the condom out of his dick again, the blonde introduced his dick into you again, smiling at the sight and the feeling of your wet cunt.

"fuck- look at you. so wet and still trying to say you don't want it." he smiled, nibbling on your nipple.

"n-no- i dont want to be pregnant, i can't- i have to sing!" you moaned, your hips meeting his with every thrust. you bucked your hips on him, did your best not to like it, but you couldn't lie to yourself, it was wonderful.

"if you don't want this then why are you fucking yourself on me?" his answer was a long moan you gave him, your nails scratching his back, burying themselves deep inside him. "god, you're a whore."

"p-pills. i-i need to find my pills!" you squirmed, your cunt tightening around him so deliciously god that you had to bite your bottom lip as to not let anything out- not to let him know you liked it, from his dick inside you to his cum stuffed into you.

"you wont find them," he smiled. "threw them away"

"oh fuck- pull out, p-pull out!!" you squirmed, but it was too leste already, you were cumming on his dick and he was laughing at you while pinching your clit.

"you said you didn't want that"

"i-i don't. i can't, i sing. my entire life revolves around singing"

"not anymore" he came inside you, dick throbbing into your cunt as you squirmed. "just for nome months, you'll be a caged bird."

the idea he pictured to you was terrible. a wife, always in white, drained out from taking care of two babies. even if the feeling of his cum inside you was terribly good, the thought of being a mother was your worse nightmare.

he proposed to you again the next night. and of course you had to accept. being a single mother is never good to a girl who were originally from the districts. a lot of the capitol's people were running their mouth already, saying you seduced him, manipulated him, or whatever it was.

it was the contrary.

but of course they wouldn't know that, not with your wings clipped together for you to not sing your way out.

not with your round belly showing up. not with the two babies on his arm and his. both looked like you both. your nose, his eyes. his mouth, your hair. you loved them.

maybe it wasn't so bad.

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader

part 2 ----->

A/N: My HC is that DogDay has an adult inside of him, unlike Catnap.

“Congragulations! Your application was chosen, and you are now part of the Playtime Co family! Please review all the following information provided in this email.” was all that was said in a recent email I had gotten. Finally, after weeks of job hunting, I heard back from someone, and it only took them a day to respond! I briefly skimmed through the email, knowing it was just boring company policies. At the very bottom it said that my first day was tomorrow. Wow, they sure do not waste time. I set an alarm and went to bed early, excited about my new job. 

---------------- 

When I applied, I put down that I did not mind working anywhere in the factory so imagine how surprised I was when I showed up, they told me I would be working down below in a room called ‘Playcare.’ In fact, it was highly requested that I was to be stationed there. They told me it’s where they house orphans. It’s fascinating that a factory that builds toys for kids has its own orphanage here, right in the factory! I was given a uniform to change into and the uniform was honestly quite cute! The shirt was a golden-brown color that smelled like vanilla, I was given a nametag with a sun pin attached and... a headband with dog ears the same color. I didn’t think much of it and just went to change before heading off to Playcare. 

--------------- 

I stared in awe as I looked down below at Playcare. This place was huge! I still could not believe that little kids lived here. I looked around at all the buildings. There was a school, a circus tent, a few more buildings and right up top was where all the orphans lived. Seeing all of this gave me the vibe of that one anime called ‘The Promised Neverland’ but I soon laughed at the thought. Kids do not die here, no demons feed on their brains, they get adopted. Adopted. 

--------------- 

As I exited the cable car, I was instructed to meet my boss inside of the Playhouse. While walking to the playhouse some kids would run up to me and call me ‘girl DogDay’ whatever that meant. I just smiled and waved at them before entering the Playhouse. I was not given a name for who my boss was but was just told that they would know what I looked like and would spot me. Lots of kids were in this area. All screaming and chasing each other. One of them grabbed my hand and said, “Hurry we have to hide before he finds us!” I had no time to protest as I was led behind some foam building blocks. “Um, who exactly are we hiding from?” I whispered back to the kid, might as well play along. “Shh. He has good hearing.” was all that the kid said before peeking over the blocks we were hiding at.  

--------------- 

Two minutes went by before we both heard some footsteps approaching. “He’s coming! Run!” and then the kid ran into a slide and started to climb up. I laughed at the kids' action and started to get up before I felt breathing coming from above me. I slowly lifted my head up and was shocked to see a giant dog hovering above me. “Hiya Angel!” I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything, I was in shock. This enormous dog that looks like a plushy is speaking to me. “I found you which means now you get to help out with catching everyone!” The dogs tailed wagged. I stood up and got a good look at this...dog thing. He was tall, around 8 ft. He had a pendant in the shape of a sun, and he smelled like vanilla. Oh, that’s what the kids meant earlier by ‘girl DogDay,’ this is DogDay. “Come on Angel, I know if we work together, we can find all the kids before time is up” and then DogDay ran on all fours like an actual dog, in search of the other kids.  

--------------- 

I think it was safe to say that DogDay found the rest of the kids while I just knew of the one that was with me before was hiding at. As we made our way back to the entrance, I noticed the kids laughing and trying to climb onto DogDay. Maybe he’s been with them forever and that’s why they don’t seem terrified by a dog that stands 8 ft tall. DogDay looked over and saw me and the last kid approaching and waved at us. The other kids stopped what they were doing and looked in my direction. In unison they all screamed “Girl DogDay is here!” I smiled sheepishly and waved at them. “Hi there....” Did these kids know about me? DogDay then put down some kids that he was holding and walked over to me. “Sorry about that Angel, I told them that I was getting a helper the other day and they have been wanting to see you.” “Oh, that’s fine. Hey um DogDay was it? Do you happen to know who my boss is by chance? I was told to meet them in here.” The kids behind Dogday started giggling. “You’re looking at him Angel!”  

Huh? He’s joking right? This dog looking mascot is my boss?! DogDay then picked me up and hugged me tight. “We’re going to have so much fun working together Angel.” I could hear his tail wagging back in forth. He put me down and led me to the rest of the kids. “Kids, we have a new face joining us today. Why don’t you introduce yourself to us Angel.” I suddenly felt nervous. All these little eyes staring at me so excitedly. “O-okay, um well hi, my name is Angel- wait no” the kids started laughing. That wasn’t my name but hearing DogDay call me that this whole time just slipped out. DogDay was even laughing. I blushed in embarrassment. I cleared my throat and continued. “My name is Y/N, but I guess you could also call me Angel. I like to read, draw, um I guess sing, but I haven’t done it in a while. Umm, I’m 20 years old and my birthday is on November 14th and that’s pretty much it I think.”  

DogDay clapped and soon the other kids followed his lead. “Well put Angel, now it’s my turn, though I think I’ll let the kids introduce me.” All at once the kids started yelling over each other to tell me about him. “He’s the leader of the Smiling Critters!” “He smells like vanilla!” “Super strong!” “DOGDAY CALLED YOU PRETTY!!” “Okay! Thank you, Damian, no need to shout now friend.” The shift in DogDays attitude changed, he was the one that seemed nervous now. The kid that was hiding with me was named Damian. Dogday then cleared his throat. “Let’s all go outside and wait for KickenChicken now alright?” The kids yelled in delight and pushed their way out of the Playhouse. 

It was now just me and DogDay. “So, um I’m guessing you picked me to work here?” I tried breaking the awkward silence between us. I decided to not bring up the fact that he called me pretty, too awkward right now. DogDay then seemed to snap back into his cheery self. “Yep! I looked through a lot of applicants, but yours stood out to me.” It’s amazing that a toy factory lets a toy pick out an employer. DogDay then grabbed my hand and led me outside. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour of the place Angel.” I smiled and went along with him. I could see myself liking it here.  

A/N: part 2 anyone?

[stuffeddeer]

imagine mistaking beastzai as your usual dazai (you thought he wanted to be emo for a day) and like did usual silly cute things with him then dazai came home and he’s like HUH WHO IS THIS GUY R U CHEATING ON ME :(( but in the end you have… double boyfriends but one’s moody and one’s fucking annoying

anons that think alike omg telepathy … use ur powers for good!!! two asks in one btw i feel so productive

alsooo beast!dazai would be giddy like a child to be in the main tl w his love… he’d be twirling you around and enjoying what could’ve been before he has to go back!!! all dazais are cringy and in love w u it's true they told me themselves !!!!

“What’s with the outfit?” You spoke bluntly, clearly a little put off by the reappearance of the black coat and red scarf. “Dude, you look like Mori.” Harsh, sure, but your boyfriend worked so hard to walk alongside you in the light, so the last thing you wanted was to see what would’ve been, if not for — 

Dazai smiled, seemingly amused. “Ah, love, it’s merely a costume. Thought you’d get a kick out of it,” he replies easily, pulling off the long red scarf: a staple of the Port Mafia’s boss.

His words help to relax you, letting out a small sigh as you push the coat off of his shoulders. “Let me grab you your coat, I know it’s around here somewhere…” You flittered about your shared apartment, pulling a backup brown coat from its spot buried underneath your closet. “This better suits you,” you speak under your breath as Dazai pulls it on. The fit seems a little… different. Is it somehow looser than normal? You frown.

“Thank you, love,” he repeated the same pet name. It felt as though he missed saying it, which doesn’t quite make sense.

You choose not to dwell on it — maybe seeing him in black again just rewired your brain for a moment. He’s alive and well in front of you and nothing else matters. A nod is all the reply Dazai gets before you slip on your shoes.

“I thought you might have headed to work early when I didn’t see you in bed this morning, but I guess that’s my fault for assuming the impossible,” you decide to tease.

Dazai easily slips behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin against your shoulder. “Mm… I love you, you know that? Let’s skip work today. We can spend time together, ‘kay?”

He’d always been unpredictable and spontaneous, so you merely laughed in response. “I don’t have work today, remember? But you still do.”

Shaking his head, he pouts — there’s the Dazai you love. “Nope!~ I refuse to go into work today. I’m spending my whole day with my love!” He practically jumps for joy, hands moving to gently hold your waist. “Let’s bake cookies.”

There isn’t much you can do, watching with an amused grin as Dazai unties your shoes before dragging you to the kitchen.

“It does not take two hours to make cookie dough…” you sigh, trying to jostle the white flour from your hair. “We baked cookies together, like, two weeks ago! How could we already have forgotten everything…”

Dazai grins, planting kiss after kiss on your cheeks, melted butter staining your skin from when he accidentally tried to drink from the cup you’d used to soften it. “Hard to remember much when I’m with you.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You chuckled, grabbing a towel from the counter to wipe both your face and his lips.

“Yep!~ It’s like.. my love is so pretty I can’t think when I’m around them! Oh, I could just die in… No! I don’t even want to die! I could live in your arms, grow old together and watch you get all frail and saggy,” Dazai speaks dreamily, swooning over the idea of growing old with you. How sweet.

You push him away gently and begin balling up the chocolate chip cookie dough, pressing it onto the silver pan you made Dazai buy when you first started staying over. “Saggy? No, I’ll be young and beautiful forever,” you joke, but Dazai only nods in response.

“It’s true! No one holds a candle to my love. Why, I wish I could spend every day just staring at you.” Dazai’s voice always sounded teasing when he was with you, but even as you put the last of the cookie dough onto the tray (only had enough to fill one, since Dazai kept spilling, throwing or eating the ingredients..) you could feel the genuineness in his words.

Oven preheated, you slid the sheet in to bake (making sure to start the timer) before turning to Dazai. Before you could get a word in, the front door to your shared apartment creaked open. Heart dropping to your stomach, you grabbed the closest thing to you: a whisk your boyfriend had licked clean. Said boyfriend only seemed to sigh, falling into a more somber mood, head hanging before he sent you a sad smile.

“I think the jig is up, love…”

Your name is called from the front door, the voice… suspiciously familiar. “Are you in there? You weren’t answering your phone and I got worried...” Dazai stepped into your apartment, hanging his keys by the door before turning around (an addition you made, since he tended to forget his and jumpscare you by picking the lock every few days).

The three of you stood still, no words spoken and the only sound being that of your metal whisk dropping to the floor. Spinning from one Dazai to the next, you wiped a splotch of flour from your shirt collar. You felt guilty for some reason, like you were at fault for not recognizing an imposter Dazai, and wanted to make yourself look more presentable.

“Awww, love!” The Dazai at the door pouts, throwing his coat on the floor as he quickly heads over to you. “Are you cheating on me?” He continues, slouching over you to impose as much of his weight as he can. You struggle for a moment, his bone crushing hug enveloping more than you expected.

Guilt still apparent as your tummy twisted, you shook your head. “I didn’t— “

The other Dazai, the one wearing a black tie and covered in various cookie ingredients pouted as well. “Maybe she’s cheating on me! I mean, I can’t believe my love moved in with another man…”

God, this was too confusing. You gently pushed Dazai A off of you, stepping back from the two. “I don’t— “

“I can’t believe this… I head to work early one time and now you’re making cookies for someone else!” Dazai A whined, face smooshed against the oven door’s glass in longing. “I’ll never be on time again! In fact, I think I’ll always have to be late.”

Dazai B pulled Dazai A back towards him by his collar, whispering obnoxiously, “I’ll share the cookies if you share the beautiful partner.”

Dazai A nods in approval, eyes closed and arms crossed like it was the easiest decision to make in the world. “I want half the sheet. And, I want a kiss…” He pouts towards you. Ugh, how annoying.

You deadpan towards the two, no longer feeling guilty. These two were just as much Dazai as they could get. Arms spread, you let Dazai A pull you into a hug so you can give him a proper welcome home kiss. “Both of you are obnoxious. Is that all I’m worth? Half a sheet of cookies?”

“Half a sheet of your cookies,” Dazai B grins. “That’s not something either of us would give up lightly.” The other Dazai nods in agreement.

Both of your stupid, annoying, clingy boyfriends tug on your sleeves, forcing you over to the couch so they can both receive your affections while the cookies bake.

the timer goes off after a while but they both whine about not wanting to let u get up. once you threaten letting the cookies burn they're quick to let go. i hate them both.

[drewstarkeyslut]

Dark!rafe and dark!reader who show up to the boneyard with different people and after a verbal fight the two end up hooking up in his truck. Maybe they leave together 👀

RIDE OR DIE ᡣ𐭩

Warnings: smut (p in v), choking, slapping, creampie, kidnapping, rafe forcing jj/sofia to watch as he fucks reader (idk what else, sorry if i missed anything)

A/N: sorry it took me forever to finish babe, my motivation has been down the drain lately. i truly dont know if i like this, it’s mehh.. but i hope you enjoy it🥹🥲 also wanted to thank @drudyslut for helping me alot with it by coming up with some ideas, your brain works wonders! ilysm bestie💕

You and Rafe were together but not together, it was complicated. You loved to get under each others skin. It was like a competition, every fucking time. Rafe was a jealous guy, and you were a jealous girl, that was obvious. Shit got crazy from time to time, it was inevitable. You two were toxic together.

Tonight there was a party at the boneyard and you decided the best way to mess with Rafe’s head was to show up with none other than JJ Maybank. You and Rafe had gotten into it the night before, nothing new but you were out for blood. You knew his hatred for the pogue, so you definitely knew what you were getting yourself into. That was the plan and you went with it.

What you didn’t know was that Rafe was two steps ahead.

You and JJ arrived at the boneyard, his arm draped around your neck. His hand basically grazing over your breast. You two walked in smiling and laughing. That’s when you locked eyes with Rafe, he was seething and you knew it. You were living for it.

The first thing you noticed when you looked over at Rafe was the girl who threw herself all over him, peppering his neck with kisses. It was Sofia, the girl before you, the one bitch you despised.

“Hey JJ, you go ahead, I’ll catch up with you in a bit!” You give him a smile and a kiss on the cheek. You knew Rafe was watching and it killed him to witness that even when he just had the bitch all over his neck just a few seconds ago. No one touches his girl, and if they do, they might as well be dead.

“Alright Princess, be safe.” JJ nods at you then proceeds to catch up with the rest of the pogues.

“Hey fuck face!” You shout, storming towards Rafe.

“Who me?” Sofis questions, obvlious to the situation and making it obvious she was annoyed with your presence.

“Not you, you nasty little whore. Him.” You point in Rafes direction. He’s already eyeing you, theres no telling what he’s thinking about with that blank look on his face.

“What do you want y/n? Shouldn’t you be with your little pogue boy toy, Maybank?” Rafe spat, his arms pushing Sofia closer into him. He did it to piss you off, and it was working.

“Actually, yes. Just wanted to stop by and say fuck you, have fun with this dumb cunt! Just know you’ll be thinking about me when you’re inside of her. Have a good fucking night.” You hiss, looking at him then to Sofia. You turn around making sure your hair whipped the bitch in her face.

“Oh I will, sweetheart.” Rafe jabbed. A devilish grin adorning his face as he took a sip from his cup.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Sofia questions Rafe. His eyes are still locked on you as you make your way back to JJ. He watches as JJ wraps his arm around you pulling you closer to him. He says something to you that makes you laugh then plants kisses on your forehead.

“Nothing Sofia, just…fucking drop it.” Rafe’s mind was spiraling, all he could think about was you and that fucking pogue and he didn’t like it one bit.

A couple hours passed since you arrived at the boneyard, you were currently grinding on JJ, genuinely having fun. You were feeling a bit tipsy, not quite drunk yet but definitely not sober. You honestly were just having a good time. You didn’t want to think about Rafe right now, thinking about him with Sofia would just push your fucking buttons.

“Hey JJ, would you please get me another drink?” You ask him with pleading eyes.

“Of course princess. I got ya, I’ll be right back!” JJ gushed.

You were dancing with Sarah and Kie while waiting for JJ to come back with your drink. Ten minutes go by but it felt like hours, JJ never came back. You start to worry as your eyes scan the boneyard. You get a glimpse of where the drinks are set up, but still no sign of JJ. You decide not to worry.. just yet, thinking he probably bumped into John B or Pope and got carried away.

After another hour of dancing and talking with Sarah and Kie you wander off to look for JJ. He certainly wasn’t with John B, because he came looking for Sarah. Pope was with Cleo. So where the fuck did JJ go? Did he find some other girl to take to the Chateau? And if so, why didn’t he just tell you? It’s not like you two were an item.

You were so lost in your thoughts when all of a sudden a hand covered your mouth and an arm wrapped around your torso pulling you into someones chest.

“Shh. Baby girl. Don’t make a sound.” Rafe whispers in your ear. His dick was slightly hard, you could feel his bulge poking into your ass.

He leads you to his truck, throws you inside, and walks to the drivers side, hopping in.

“What the fuck Rafe?!” You yell.

“Shut up y/n! How ‘bout you be quiet f’me..yeah?” Rafe mutters. He starts the truck and starts speeding off.

“Where the hell are you taking me? I don’t want to go anywhere with you, where is Sofia? Got bored of her already huh?” You start going off, still pissed about him bringing Sofia to the boneyard.

“I said shut the fuck up! It’s not that hard to listen is it?” Rafe hits the steering wheel, noticably agitated, he turns up the music to drown you out.

“Well god damn. Alright. Someone is fucking pissy.” You mumble under your breath and roll your eyes. You were used to shit like this when it came to Rafe, nothing surprised you anymore. You stare out the window as you listen to “RUNRUNRUN” by Dutch Melrose blasting on the radio.

Rafe finally pulls up to Tannyhill, you look at the beautiful home you knew all too well. You knew what Rafe wanted from you, why else would he have brought you here? Shit, you wanted it too. You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to.

You hop out of the truck without Rafe having to force you out of it. Rafe stalks towards you, he opens the door to Tannyhill and you both step inside. You push Rafe against the wall as you look up at him with hungry eyes, his eyes dart down to your tits, licking his lips. Rafe grips your throat, turning his body so that now your body slams against the wall. He always wanted to be in control, especially tonight.

“You know Rafe, if you wanted to fuck me, you could have just called me.” You bite your lip looking up into his eyes.

He wastes no time going in for a kiss, you don’t hesitate, not even for a second as you kiss him back. He releases the tight grip from your throat, putting his arms out low enough so he could pick you up.

“Jump” Rafe orders. You do as he says, wrapping your legs around him as he holds you up against the wall.

He shoves his tongue in your mouth and you moan into his mouth, your tongues clashing. You two were completely absorbed in making out as he carries you up the stairs into his room and throws you on the bed, climbing on top of you.

“Shit, you got me hard as fuck. I can’t wait to fuck this tight pretty little pussy but first....” Rafe reaches over and turns on the lamp, letting the light brighten the room just a bit.

You see something from the corner of your eye as you look over and see JJ and Sofia tied to chairs. They were gagged with tape over their mouths so they couldnt make a sound. They were crying and fighting their restraints. Rafe made sure they wouldn’t be able to get out of them.

“What’s going on Rafe, why are JJ and Sofia here, like that?” You question him, you weren’t even shocked to see them restrained as if it happened before.

“Oh hmm, I don’t know — maybe because JJ here didn’t seem to know that you’re my girl y/n, and no one fucks with my girl. No one touches what belongs to me.” Rafe stated confidently, looking JJ straight in his eyes. “So, he and miss Sofia here will be watching me claim what’s mine. They will know who owns you.” Rafe smirked, palming himself through his shorts.

There was something so sinister in the way Rafe thought and did things that surpisingly didn’t bother you and did quite the opposite. It turned you on.

“All yours, and only yours Rafe! Let this cunt know that this pussy is the only pussy you’ll be fucking that cock into, the only pussy that cries for you.” You grinned, pulling him closer by the loops on his shorts.

“Fuck, you really know how to get me goin’ such a good slut f’me. I need to feel you, need to be inside of you, now.” Rafe growls. He pulls his shirt off, unbuttoning his pants and taking those off too.

“Wow no boxers huh?” You giggled. You start drooling at the sight of his hard cock, precum dripping from his tip and onto you. Just the sight of his cock had your pussy sopping wet.

“I bet you’re not wearing any panties, damn slut. How about we check?” Rafe laughs, lifting up your dress to reveal your pussy glistening on full display.

You pull your dress over your head and undo your bra throwing it on the floor. You wanted him, you were impatient.

“Fuck me Rafe. Right now. Want to feel every inch of your cock, need you to fill me up full of your cum.” You moan. Rafe pins your arms above your head, visicously gripping your wrists.

He smashes his lips against yours as he enters his length into your wet cunt. You gasp, your moans muffled from Rafe’s tongue down your throat. His cock slowly thrusting in and out of your pussy. His cock drowning in your wet pussy.

He pulls away from the kiss, one hand giving a slap to your cheek.

“You like that huh? You filthy slut. Fuck. You feel so damn good.” Rafe gives the other side of your cheek a slap.

“Fuckkkk, y-yyes! ch-choke me Rafe. I need to feel your big hands wrapped around my throat.” You beg,

“Whatever my little cumslut wants, she gets. But.. can you handle it baby girl?” Rafe asks but wastes no time as both hands release the grip from your wrists making their way down to your throat. The grip was deathly, your airways were absolutely constricted, face turning a light shade of pink.

“Oh fuck, yes. Oh my god, faster please daddy. Feels so fucking good! I want to cum” You scream, your words coming out strained due to your struggle for air.

Rafe picks up the pace, his cock ramming into your cunt, his thrusts sloppy and brutal. Your juices making a mess on his large veiny cock.

“This pussy is mine. You’re all mine. You belong to me. You got that y/n?” Rafe rasped. You just nod your head, too focused on how his cock was making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You couldn’t lie, he was the best fuck you ever had and ever will have. You were addicted just as much as he was.

“Yes sir. All yours. Every inch of me belongs to you.” You moan out as he releases his grip from your throat.

“That’s my fuckin’ good girl.” Rafe praises.

“Fuck! Ahh, Rafe I’m gonna cum!” You let go and squirt all over his cock.

“Shiiiit, I’m gonna fill this pretty little cunt up. You want it? You little slut. Fuck come on, tell JJ and Sofia just how much you need my cum baby girl.” Rafe taunts. You almost forgot that JJ and Sofia were in the room, tied up, and trying to keep their eyes shut so they didn’t have to witness this.

“Rafe p-please I need it! Need your cum to fill me up and drip right fucking out of my pussy!” You whine. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him more towards you. His cock pushes deeper into you making you tremble and scream.

“God damn baby girl, keep grippin’ this fuckin’ dick just like that. Ah fuuuck, you’re doing so well f’me. Fuckin’ take it like a filthy whore. Oh shit baby girl, here it comes!” Rafe groans loudly, a string of curses falling from his lips and thick white ropes of cum shooting deep inside you.

He looks over to JJ and Sofia, “Bet you thought you’d be the one in this sweet pussy tonight, yeah?” Rafe laughs. JJ mutters something under his breath as he still struggles to find a way out.

Rafe goes back to paying him no attention. He pulls out, his warm seed spilling out of your pussy and dripping onto the bedsheets.

“Wish it was you filled with his cum instead, hmm? Too damn bad it will never be you, bitch.” You stare into Sofia’s eyes, you hated that bitch and wanted her to know that he was not hers to fuck around with. Rafe was yours. Always will be.

[apclyptc]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN PT.2—matt ver.

foreword: please read the first part linked here for this to make any sense! i mean technically u could read it as a stand alone but it’s best read with part one 😇

warnings: nice little makeout sesh, fingering, love bites, praise, lots of praise, erm insert more warnings here

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“i pick… matt.” you spoke.

matt’s eyes widened, but only for a moment. you suddenly felt like a fool, he was one of your best friends, you’d known him forever.

but at the same time, this had been a long time coming. it was going to happen sooner or later, right?

nate’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“i was not expecting that! i think this game has been my best idea ever so far.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, “don’t get so ahead of yourself, this game is still stupid. but i will admit that it has been funny.” you turned to matt again, his face unreadable and it made you nervous.

“so uh, which room are we even going in?” matt’s eyes averted from yours. oh god, is he going to let you down gently? was his hand on your thigh just a friendly pat and you’d read into it too much because you wanted him to touch you just once?

you’d simply die if that was the case. was it too late to choose waylon?

nate pointed towards upstairs. oh god.

“pick any room. well maybe not mine, i still have to sleep in it tonight.” nate winked, causing a few of the others to laugh.

“cmon, we’ll only be up there for ten minutes. don’t be ridiculous.” matt shrugged off his friend’s suggestive comment and stood from his chair, signalling you to stand too.

‘we’ll only be up there for ten minutes’. you wondered what you’d get up to if you had longer.

you followed matt up the stairs into what looked like a spare room, and he shut the door.

“nate has really outdone himself this time, don’t you think?” matt asked, as if he was putting himself off of an inevitable and awkward conversation.

“yeah… it almost makes me scared to think he’ll try to one-up this next time.” you responded. now that you were up here alone, you were realising the errors of your ways and you desperately wished that ten minutes would be over as quick as it started.

“listen, y/n. we’ve been friends for a long time now, so i understand if you want to just sit here and wait out the ten minutes.” he explained.

the way he worded it made it seem like he didn’t want to just sit here, but he was okay with it if you were.

surely not…

“we could do that,” you began, mentally noting that his face dropped ever so slightly, “or maybe we could… never mind.” you realised half way through your reply that you couldn’t bear to hear yourself say the words to him.

but matt wasn’t going to let that happen, not now, knowing that maybe what he was feeling was reciprocated.

“we could what?” he stepped closer to you, the room feeling smaller than it was when you first walked in.

“it doesn’t matter, it was stupid.” your breath hitched in your throat, he was getting closer and closer to you until there was barely any space left between you.

“tell me. i just want to hear you say it, once.” matt’s hand came up to rest on the side of your neck, the hand that was adding pressure to your thigh not long ago.

“i mean, it’s just a game, right? so we could… just…” you trailed off as his lips came into contact with yours. it was a soft, slow kiss, that melted your brain into mush.

“this isn’t just a game to me.” he spoke before reconnecting his lips to yours. soft and slow was no longer how your kiss could be described. no, this time it was desperate, charged, with clanging teeth and roaming hands.

you couldn’t believe one silly card game could put you in such a position.

matt walked you to the edge of the bed, sitting both of you down and placing his hand back on your thigh. you pressed them together, trying to distract yourself from the arousal that was no doubt pooling underneath your skirt.

pulling away from you, he mumbled, “i was hoping you felt the same way.”

the needy expression on your face was more than enough of an indicator, but if there was any doubt in his mind, it was instantly quelled when you took his hand and let him touch the dampness of your underwear. he sighed with want, dragging his fingers along the wet spot.

“please, we don’t have long.” you pleaded, and who was he to deny you?

tugging the waistband of your panties down your legs, he admired the glistening of your pussy, begging to be touched.

“so pretty.” a single finger swiped at your core, and you let out a short breath.

matt slowly increased his pace, stroking up and down at your leaking cunt, as if mesmerised by it.

truth be told, he couldn’t believe such a thing was happening. he’d had only the smallest of feelings for you when you were younger, but they had quickly blossomed into something much more, or rather they had torpedoed into a carnal desire for you once you had traded hoodies for tube tops.

he couldn’t control his urges for you any more than you could.

“matt,” you pleaded again, aching for more, “please.”

matt could cum solely from the sounds escaping your throat alone, but he had decided to use his ten minutes to make you feel good rather than himself.

using his fingers already coated in your slick, he pushed them inside you. the moan you let out had surprised the both of you, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, letting your other stabilise yourself on his shoulder.

“keep quiet, you don’t want everyone downstairs to hear, do you?” he spoke softly, and you weren’t sure if he actually wanted an answer to his question, though you weren’t in any position to answer. you were too focused on muffling your moans with your hand.

just like he had done downstairs, matt attached his lips to your neck, leaving another bite next to the other, this one darker than the first.

he pulled his head back to admire his work.

“i’d love to cover you in these,” he continued thrusting his fingers into you, “they suit you.”

you felt a twang in your stomach.

“you, fuck, you should leave them in places where no one can see but you.” you panted, struggling to speak without whining expletives.

“yeah? you want that?” matt glanced down at where his hand connected with your pussy, and used his thumb to touch your clit.

“ohhh fuck, yes i want that, keep doing that.” you felt yourself already slipping over the edge, getting closer and closer to sweet release.

“knock knock!” nate’s voice taunted from outside the room as he thudded on the door, “times up!”

you instantly felt embarrassed. did he hear all of that?

“i guess we weren’t quick enough.” matt pulled his fingers out of you.

“yeah i guess no-” your words were cut short by matt sticking the fingers that were just inside of you, into your mouth.

“clean my fingers for me, would you? i got them all messy.” he smirked at the implications of his words.

you did as you were told and licked your own arousal off his hand, feeling your cunt clench.

“there’s a good girl.”

straightening yourself out, you opened the door to a beaming nate.

“so? did you keep my sheets clean?” he asked.

“shut up, dude. we didn’t even do anything.” matt denied, walking past nate and back downstairs with you to the others.

nate followed behind, “then how come y/n has another hickey?”

like a deer in headlights, you stopped in your tracks.

“no comment.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n oh my god this is so so so ass. this is what i get for getting drunk instead of updating and having to rush writing this bc everyone’s waiting.

regardless, i hope it was worth the wait! now all i have to do is write the whole chris chapter and pray it doesn’t come out as terribly as this

bye….

© APCYLPTC 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.

[ratcash-wasgud]

So like you know that one anime my dress up darling? Yeah so basically Mizu AU that but Mizu's a photographer who loves anime stuff and reader who's her fav cosplayer

Reader does a lot of risque cosplay stuff though and makes Mizu blush having to take close up shots of her body :3

hey lovely!

i've never seen this anime lmao, but this sounds good so I'll give it a go !!

I also made some audios for this one, beause RAAAAAAAAHHHHH I'M FERAL

(btw this is pretty short, and kinda unfinished but I didn't just want to leave this one in the drafts forever.)

"Okay, could you...hold your hand up a little? Like...to your face?" Mizu mumbles from behind the camera, her tounge darting up to wet her lips. She has done this a couple times before, doing a free photshoot for you while you're in cosplay. Not only because it has both of her favourite things: Anime and pretty women, but because well...it's you.

She has seen your cosplays online a couple times, so when she ran into you on a con, and she asked for you number to do a photshoot later, and you said yes despite her suttering, she almost wet her pants in excitement.

She loves taking pictures of you, in and out of cosplay too. During your three months of knowing eachother Mizu has developed a fat crush on you. She has realized that under you lovely exterior, you're so very sweet on the inside. You always smile even when her camera isn't in her hands, and you bring her sweets and little gifts everytime, as if you owe her anything. If anything, she owes you for letting her gawk at you.

This time is different though. Mizu couldn't take one single usebale picture so far, because her hands are violently shaking. The reason is simple...today's cosplay is Misato, from NGE. But this time, you have your Misato wig and makeup on, but you're outfit consist of a towel wrapped around you, referencing that one scene where she runs out of the bathroom. Why? It's niche. And you love niche stuff.

"Okay uhm...sorry, can we...take a quick break?" Mizu lowers the camera, needing to take a deep breath. She has never been this close to an almost naked woman before, and it's fuzzing up her brain. Plus that almost naked woman happens to be you, so she definetly needs a breather.

"Yeah, sure." You say, straightening your back and getting out of the pose you were just doing. "Is anything the matter?" You ask, giving her that sweet, but so oblivios look she love-hates. It's unbelievable to her that someone as hot as you can be so unaware of the effect she has on people.

"No, no, I just...it's just...I need a bathroom break." Mizu says, not really wanting to admit how insanely attracted to you she is. It would help sooooo much if you knew by default. She escapes to the bahtroom like the coward she is, and washes her face. She checks her phone just to see the groupchat blowing up.

Taigen: omg are u dead yet?

Akemi: staaawp she is probs nervous leave her alone >:(

Ringo: Is she still there? Tell her she is pretty and her smile shines like a thousand suns!

Taigen: dumb ass advice

Taigen: tell her her ass looks good

Akemi: can u stop acting like a dog

Taigen: why it usually works

Mizu just sighs as she reads the texts. They are definetly not helping. She comes out of the bathroom in the same helpless state she was in before. When she sees you again, you're leaning against the wall, the towel slipping a little lower, giving Mizu a clear picture of where your areola starts. She swallows hard, but it's somehow dry and tries her best at wiping her sweaty hands in her pants in the least obvious way.

She must've been staring for a while because you hit her with a "What?" and a chuckle.

"Uh...nothing." Mizu blinks rapidly to snap herself back to reality. "Just uh...you know." Mizu awkwardly gestures at her chest, micking a pulling up motion. "Your uh...fans might die if I took pictures like that."

You look down, realising your towel has slipped. "Oh...Oh God, sorry!" You akwardly laugh as you pull it up. "Jesus...that's so embarasisng." You say, trying to laugh it off.

"No, no, it uh....shouldn't be embarssing. It's fine." Mizu says, waving her hands around in a way that's supposed to be dismissing. "I liked it." She adds quietly.

But, it somehow made it's way to your ears, as you lifted an eyebrow.

"You...did?" You chuckle, tilting your head.

"Uh, I..." Mizu is stunned. Fuuuuuuuuuuck nobody ever hears what she's mumbling why now? Why the most embarassing thing ever?

[deans-queen]

Love Or Die 💜🔪

Mini Series

Paring: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (Y/N)

Plot: Reader (Y/N) can’t stand Dean Winchester and everything about him, but she has a secret and that is: she’s madly in love with him.

Inspired by the song: Can’t Hold On Forever by Laura Marano

Bold text: song lyrics

Warnings: SMUT, p in v (wrap it up kids), oral (female & male receiving), mature and sexual language.

Part 2 - Reader’s P.O.V

Later that afternoon, Uncle Bobby went out with Sam to get some supplies, so Dean and I were alone. Again…

Which I usually didn’t mind, just pretending that I didn’t have feelings for him was exhausting.

He was sitting across from me, his head lost in a book, we were doing more research about the mansion.

I tried so hard to keep from looking at him, but he was so perfect.

Okay, back to the mansion…

Uncle Bobby told us that it belonged to this man named Master Turner.

Sam also mentioned that the mansion was cursed, but we didn’t know why.

So, Dean and I decided to do more research on Master Turner and we found a bunch of stuff!

He was left with the mansion when his parents died in the late 1800s.

Shortly after that he was engaged to this girl named Lillian but she was from a rival family and everyone forbade it. But they didn’t care, they loved each other.

So they decided to get married in secret and run away to start a new life.

Then the night before the wedding, she was found dead in Master Turner's bedroom.

People think she killed herself out of guilt or that someone killed her.

After Master Turner heard the news, he died of a broken heart.

Since then the house has been cursed not only with Lillian’s spirit but Master Turner’s as well. Including everyone who lived in the mansion at the time. Which makes sense because the spirits were never laid to rest so they’ve been hanging around the mansion all these years.

“Must be awful.” I said out loud to Dean. “These poor spirits, wandering around earth for all eternity.”

“Yeah, well, life’s a bitch.” Dean said, sarcasm in his voice.

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “You could show some sympathy.” I closed my laptop, my brain was starting to burst.

“So how the hell do we get rid of this curse?” I said to Dean, while I walked to the fridge to get a couple of beers.

“Well, I think if we can find who killed Lillian it will link up to the curse.” He removed the cap from the beer bottle and took a sip of it.

Never have I ever wanted to be that beer bottle….

Ugh, snap out of it Y/N he’s an asshole remember??

“What are you looking at?” He said curiously

“Oh, ummm nothing. I was just thinking about something.” I said, fidgeting with the beer bottle.

Dean shrugged, got up and walked away taking his beer with him.

“Ugh….. how much longer can I keep this up.” I said to myself.

Later that night, I went into my room and started getting ready for bed.

My brain was fried from all this research we’ve been doing.

I picked out a cute spaghetti-strap tank top, and shorts for my pjs.

I walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth and Dean was in there.

He was getting out of the shower, and had a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Would it kill you to put some clothes on?” I said, trying to cover my eyes.

Dean scoffed at me, and walked past me down the hallway.

It took all of me to resist the urge to rip that towel off of him and admire his strong body.

After brushing my teeth I went back into my room and Dean was in there still in the towel, and sitting on my bed.

“Dean, what are you doing here?”

“You don’t have to pretend anymore Y/N, I know you have feelings for me.”

“What are you talking about?” I said, looking away, folding my arms.

“Y/N, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I see the way you look at me, the way you bite your lip when you stare at me.”

Damn, was I that obvious? Maybe I should just come clean…

“Okay, Dean, fine. Let’s say I do have these feelings for you. But how do I know you don’t feel the same for me?”

He walked towards me, looking at me up and down. He stood in front of me and got closer. His face was just inches in front of mine, I could feel his breath on my skin.

“But I do.”

“Show me how you want me.” I said to him, as he grabbed my waist and pulled me in.

"I can't ever lose you," he growls.

"You won't," I reply quietly, right as the tip of his nose traces down my neck.

"I might."

"Nev—

Before I can say never, he cuts me off with, "Because I think I'm about to fuck everything up between us."

“Don’t give me a no, just give me your lips.” I said, fearlessly.

And then he kisses me. His lips mold to mine and his calloused fingers weave into my hair as his grip turns soft.

After kissing me for several minutes, he pulled away and said, “It’s you baby. It’s always been you. You and I. Love or die.” Looking into my eyes as he spoke. I knew he meant it.

“I like the sound of that.” I said, smiling softly. I pulled him back in to kiss him more. His lips were sweet like honey. I was addicted to their taste.

We can go hard, far if you want to

Skin kissed on your tattoos

Touch this moment with you

We can't hold on forever

Show me how you want me

Stay or leave us empty

You and I, love or die

We can't hold on forever

I removed the towel from around his waist, letting it pool beneath his feet. He looked at me smiling and pressed his lips against mine. I instantly got goosebumps. “Let’s take this to the bed,” he said grinning. We both laid down kissing one another when he removed my tank top, while feeling my boobs he put another hand on my pussy. “You’re so wet.” Dean says quietly.

He kissed down my stomach, and teased his lips in my inner thigh. The stubble of his facial hair tickled my skin. He slowly removed my shorts and then took off my lacy panties. He began to devour my pussy like it was his last meal. Licking and sucking on my clit, I moaned and arched my back. “Oh fuck, Dean, please don’t stop.”

He kept going faster and faster then suddenly he stopped. I was like “Why did you…”

“Get on top of me, I want to feel you on my cock.” So I did. He was rubbing all over my butt and gently stuck his finger in my pussy. I gasped, with a heavy moan leading afterwards. “You like that?” Dean said. I nodded, hinting at him to keep going. He proceeded to finger me until I was dripping wet, He then slowly guided his cock in my pussy and we both grabbed onto one another and moaned. He held me down like he was giving me a bear hug, my tits were all in his face and he was thrusting up and down super fast.

At this point I was extremely wet and cum was dripping down all over his cock, that seemed to turn him on even more because within seconds Dean came inside me, we both looked at each other heavily breathing and kissing on one another trying to cool off. “That was fucking amazing.” Dean said, while stroking my hair.

“Yes it was.”

I hopped off, looked down at his semi hard cock and began sucking while his warm cum was dripping out of my pussy. I looked up at him and smiled and told him, “This is what you’ll be experiencing next time we’re alone.” I said, teasing him as I’m playing with him.

“Can’t wait, sweetheart.” He winked.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this story!

Feel free to let me know what you think!

Like & follow for more !! Xoxo

Check out my other stories! Masterlist 📝

Read Part 1 Here - Part 1 💜🔪

Taglist: if you would like to be added LMK 🫶🏻

@dimitrampl

@girls-alias

@kr804573

[wraithlafitte]

i'm not really dead

pairing: dean winchester x reader

CONTENT: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship

word count: 691

a/n: there is a pt. 2 to this that is just smut… but u let me know if that’s something u wanna see or not lol

You dropped your keys on your dresser and nudged your bedroom door shut with your foot. You had just gotten home from a long search through library archives, and you were feeling brain-dead. The bunker was empty, so you figured you would take advantage of the silence and treat yourself to a little nap. A little resting-of-the-eyes, if you will.

You plopped down on the leather footstool by your bed and started untying your shoes. It was a little too quiet, now that you thought about it. You went through the roster in your head.

Sam was out of town, visiting a museum in Portland or someplace following up on something he read in a Men of Letters file.

It was not uncommon for Castiel to be MIA, so you weren't worried about him.

You kicked off your shoes. It was Dean you should have been worried about, but you figured he was probably on a beer run and forgot to write a note. He wouldn't have gone and done anything dangerous alone.

A familiar set of footsteps hammered down the hallway. Speak of the devil, you thought.

The door flew open, revealing a flushed and out of breath Dean. His eyes landed on you instantly, and he stumbled across the room and fell on his knees at your feet, grabbing you into his arms.

"Dean?" you asked, concern lacing your voice. "What's wrong, baby?"

His voice was muffled, face buried in your chest. "Nothing." But his voice cracked with emotion.

"Don't lie," you admonished lovingly, rubbing his back.

He breathed a heavy sigh and said nothing. Then, "I thought you were dead." His voice was hoarse. You wondered if he had cried the whole way home.

"I'm fine," you soothed. "Why would you think that?"

Then it hit you. He had gone and done something dangerous alone.

"Dean, you didn't go after that djinn, did you?" you asked, alarmed. You pushed him back and forced him to look at you.

"I've killed plenty of djinns before," he defended, dropping his eyes. "Alone, even."

"I know you have, but baby," you said. "You said you would wait until Sam got back. And clearly you should have, if it got to you."

"It's fine, I got it," Dean argued. He took a shaky breath. "It just touched me first, and I-" His voice cracked again.

You pulled him back in. "It's okay. It was just a dream."

"A nightmare," came his muffled voice.

"A nightmare," you agreed, stroking his hair.

Dean turned his head to the side. "I was still fighting it, but you were there too, and..." he trailed off, not wanting to voice what he had seen. "I've seen too many people I love die," he finished.

You kissed the top of his head. "Well, I'm not dead. So you didn't really see me die."

He snorted lightly in response. "So literal." He looked up at you, resting his chin against your sternum. You kissed him softly.

"Let's get in bed," you said when you parted.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I know you like it when I cry, but-"

"Oh shut up," you laughed, swatting him. "I meant to take a nap, my brain melted out of my ears doing all that reading earlier." You stood up and turned around to hop into bed. You patted the blanket beside you and Dean gladly collapsed and rolled into your side.

You pressed your forehead to his and tried to look into his eyes.

"You look like you have one eye," he mumbled, smiling. You giggled and planted a kiss on his plush lips that turned into more kisses and Dean swiping his tongue across your lips. His mouth moved against yours, lazily making out with you, tongue licking gently into your mouth. You breathed through your nose, feeling like you could kiss him forever.

He broke away, keeping his face nuzzled against yours. "I love you," he whispered. "Don't go dying on me, okay?"

"I won't," you said solemnly. You gave him another peck on the lips and snuggled down into his embrace, wrapping your arm around his waist. "I promise."

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[starlost97]

— melt.

summary: After seeing how heartbroken the families of the people who work for the department get when they die, you decided to not get involved with anyone. You didn't expect, however, to have that ice wall melted away by someone — Jay Halstead — in your own unit. And when Jay got hurt in one of the cases, you couldn't help but be mad at him, and it didn't take long for him to figure out the why.

keywords: fluff, personal favorite, kind of grumpy x sunshine trope, Jay Halstead is a smug bastard, gn!reader.

characters: Jay Halstead.

warnings: mention of near-death experience, swearing.

a/n: wrote this after episode 7 of the Percy Jackson series (hence the Asphodels mention) at 2AM. I was actually going to request that but I ended up wanting to write it myself! hope u like it :)

word count: 1,248.

requested?: no.

Grumpy, reserved, quiet. All words used to describe you. And they weren't really that mistaken.

There was a thick ice wall between you and the rest of the world. A wall that didn't allow you to build any deeper relationship with anyone. One that burned people with its overwhelming coldness.

A wall that you build it yourself a little over a month after entering the Chicago's Intelligence Unit. Specifically after you watched how destroyed a family felt after losing a relative who worked for the department.

You felt selfish for even thinking of getting emotionally involved with someone. What if something happened to you? To them? You would never forgive yourself. You'd be rooted in the Asphodels Meadows — trapped with your own regret for all eternity — if anything ever happened because of you.

Everything was going well with it. You weren't that happy, but you were happier than you would be if you carried all the guilt of putting a loved one in danger.

But you never could prepare yourself to the warmth of Jay Halstead.

How cheeky of you to fall in love with a sweet smile. But it was true. You felt pathetically helpless any time he laughed at your jokes and showed you his teeth.

It was bittersweet. His laugh sounded like heaven and it made your life a living hell. How could you not be selfish? How could you think of being a good person when he was so close to you?

You tried to rationalized it. Tried to think that he wasn't that good. That perfect. That it was just your love-starved brain romanticizing him to tempt you.

Which lead you to the mistake of getting to know him.

Everything got worse.

The attempt of hating his flaws turned out to realizing that his loyalty was too much for his own good. He would mindlessly die for you, without a second thought or regret. How intoxicating.

He was like a honey-flavored poison. The sweetest way to lose yourself forever.

And unfortunately, you tasted him. Not only that, but it was never enough. You couldn't get enough of him. He became everything.

So when he almost died during one of the cases because he risked himself a little too much to get information, you were mad.

"Will you tell me why you're not talking to me?" He asked you, leaning over your desk and tilting his head, letting out a sigh. "Come on, I could've died and you won't even talk to me?"

"It's exactly because of that." You murmured, annoyed, not looking at him.

"What? I didn't hear you." Jay said, getting closer.

"It's because of that!" You said, now louder. You two were alone in the office. You were finishing up some papers while Jay — who couldn't for the life of him be separated from you for more than a couple hours — made you company.

"You're not talking to me because I risked myself?" Jay asked, confused, watching as you got up from the chair and went to the break room.

"I'm not talking to you because you're irresponsible!" You answered, finally looking at him in the eyes. Your bodies facing one another.

"I did it for the case! We needed the info!" Jay argued and you groaned, massaging your temples.

"Oh, my God, you really don't understand, do you?" You brushed your hands against your face, trying to calm yourself down.

"No, I don't. You do things like that all the time, and usually is worse. But when I do it, I'm irresponsible?" He asked, frowning.

He looked at you, trying to understand what was wrong. You weren't like this. You didn't fight with people unless their actions harm the case. So what was happening?

It was when the realization hit.

You were worried.

"Detective," He called, flashing you that damned smile that you so desired to kiss. "are you mad because I could've died?"

"Wha- What? No!" You mumbled, taking a step back as he approached you.

"Oh, yeah?" He mumbles, smiling smugly at you. "Are you sure of that?" He asks, getting closer and closer.

"Y-Yes, I am! If you died, it would've been a loss for the team and all the time and money that they invested on you would go to waste and-" You gulped, feeling the cold wall against your back and watching as he trapped you, putting his arms on each side of your face. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You said, nervously pushing his chest, but not really wanting him to leave.

"Like what?"

"Like that! Staring at my lips! Stop it!"

"Or what?" He asked, smugly.

Your breath got stuck in your throat, and as the seconds went by, he got closer. His forehead was soon touching yours, and his smile only grew bigger.

"Looks just like a dream I had." He said, putting his hand on your chin. "It ended very well. "

You didn't answer right away, trying to process your thoughts. You wanted to give a good answer, something that would make him go away — even though you didn't really want that —, but a wave of curiosity hit you with the revelation that he dreamt of you.

"How so?" Your voice was almost inaudible.

"I got to do more than just kiss you." He whispered, as if telling a secret. "But I think that just being able to kiss you would already make me the luckiest man on earth."

Your gaze fell to his lips, and just the thought of kissing them got you nervous. Your heartbeat rapidly beating against your chest, and for a moment he thought that he could feel it too.

But it was actually his own.

"Please," He asked. It could be mistaken for a beg, but the smug look on his face said otherwise. "detective."

"I thought…" You were breathless. Your nervousness didn't let you speak properly, but still, for some reason, you knew exactly what to say.

"Say it."

"I thought you were a man of action," You breathed out. "detective."

He smiled.

His hands — painfully — slowly went to the nape of your neck, holding it as he pressed his lips against yours, devouring it slowly, torturing you with it.

The kiss was the epitome of breathtaking. His lips moved slow and tenderly against yours, savouring you like it was his last meal.

He could live the rest of his life devoting himself to kissing you. How could it taste so sweet?

Jay wasn't much of a religious man, and he was even farther of believing in Greek gods. But as he felt your body against his and your sweet kiss on his lips, he was sure that you must be Aphrodite's work.

Masterpiece, actually.

His hands traveled around your body, feeling your curves, trying to memorize it so he didn't feel so sad when they weren't against his fingertips — even though that he knew it would be his life's biggest torment.

And he got a taste of it when he had to part himself from your lips.

"What were you saying, baby?" He asked, with a smug smile on his face.

"Fuck you, Jay Halstead." You said before kissing him again, feeling his smile melt against your mouth as your fingers intertwined his hair.

"You wish." He mumbled against your lips, lifting you up by your thighs and wrapping them around his waist.

Jay warmth was definitely more than enough to melt the ice wall away.

[dogs2shouldvote]

during my latest relisten of taz balance, i recorded every line i found even the slightest bit funny with zero context, not even who said it (though some are pretty obvious). here’s all my favorites!!

“i’m probably studying.. my cantrips”

“just say mastrubating, dad”

“don’t come in mom i’m studying my canteips!!”

.

“yeah you’ll do any dumb shit”

.

“it’s like a bag of holding! but for.. ass.”

.

“do we know how much damage we did to him?”

“six damage, you said it out loud with your mouth.”

.

“it should be in the player’s handbook! get your salty snack to enjoy while you play dnd”

.

“my grandpa says it’s rude to whisper. especially on a train!”

.

“i’m not going to go toe to toe with a crab while youre armed with a terrible scottish accent and travis doesn’t even have his sheild. i’m out! … did i say travis? i mean leman kessler.”

“nope! that was wrong all the way around.”

.

“i’m cosplaying taako right now, as a stupid man.”

.

“who’s just rolling dice? who is doing secret checks that i don’t know about?”

.

“i always waste my 20’s on perception checks. like i give a shit.”

.

“it’s completely conceivable he would have a name tag.”

“IN A GANG?”

.

“like a pelt??? like a bramble*pelt*?????”

.

“is there a math check? what are you talking about?”

“yeah it’s your fucking brain. you use your brain to add numbers together”

“16”

“what are you fucking doing??”

.

“griffin i love you youre my brother. but if my skill called history doesn’t literally help me with history trivia questions in a category called history what are we FUCKING doing here??”

.

“can i ask you a question? are you guys mean to everyone?”

.

“fus-ro-over dere”

.

“that one was actually a badass bernie sanders”

.

“hey thug! what’s your name? i’m about to tentacle your dick.”

.

“a d6 is like some dice ass dice. that’s some monopoly shit.”

.

“i thought you were saying merle, it’s his bread and his body, take 2d6 healing points”

.

“you two remind me of something… you remind me of the babe! and then i throw the glass sphere at them.”

.

“make a constitution saving throw to see if you can eat this fucking rock with your mouth.”

.

“dungeons and dragons is a. great game.”

.

“my name is magnus burnsides”

“marchins burchens”

.

“magnus would not say that. however, travis would.”

.

“can we please not talk about chekhov’s bush?”

.

“we’ve got a ball, a sack, and a tool!”

“everything is gross here in dnd.”

.

“only losers smoke, isaac.”

“i give isaac an hour long lecture about the dangers of smoking.”

.

“i’m just gonna put my mouth down there and go buck wild”

.

“there’s a lot of go cart tracks called the adventure zone and i’ve been working with my lawyer to shut them all down forever”

.

“does taako fish?”

“yeah taako fishes.”

.

“a rock hard-“

*justin, clint, and travis laugh*

“come ON, *really*?”

.

“taako rushes in!”

“what! magnus follows him.”

“merle’s good out here!”

“WHAT is going on?”

.

“how do you not have a d6 it comes with every board game”

“my daughter-“

“eats them for power???”

.

“uhhh how much health do you have.”

“im not gonna tell you.”

.

“let’s see… i am going to hurt jenkins. with a magical spell.”

.

“this is about to become the taako show starring taako.”

.

“BLUFF FUCKING BLUFF O’CLOCK?? WHAT IS THIS, HALF PAST PERSUASION TIME??”

.

“i’m not laughing in game” *justin fucking loses it*

.

“she’s the best at burning shit ever.”

.

“traaav griffin got to do his show for so long and now he’s gonna destroy yours.”

.

“fucking lup finds like. a gun.”

.

“for sure, keep it sleazy. we’re out, bye!”

.

“i have to believe…. i’m gonna get those fifteen dollars back from greg fucking grimaldis”

.

“based on the rules of the game, dad… you die.”

.

“dad’s making a jerk off motion at me”

.

“don’t play the pennywise card like you ALWAYS try to”

.

“should i talk slower so that everybody who has been complaining about us not playing dnd has time to nut?”

.

“i am a wizard. my name is taako. and i am pretty well fucked.”

.

“yeah i’ve got cumin who do you think i am?”

.

“hear that, babe? we’re *legends*”

.

“i’m clint mcelroy and i played merle hightower-“

“nope”

[onlymurphy]

Worthy of You

SPOILERS: Through Whole Cake Island

First post on Tumblr, wow! Little Sanji angst for your evening.

Safely aboard the Sunny and sailing away from Sanji’s nightmare arranged marriage, you can’t help but worry that your husband has been pushed too far past his limit. Injured, tired, and unsure of himself, Sanji is nothing like the man that left you two weeks ago. Of all your years as friends, crew mates, and lovers, you’ve never seen Sanji so broken, and you worry that the Vinsmokes might be what’s taken him over the edge.

Sanji x fem!reader (no y/n)

Angst | Fluff | Smut

18+ MDNI

TW: Depiction of wounds, parental death, mentions of child abuse.

Cross-Posted on AO3

Request here

“Marry me.” 

You placed a hand on Sanji’s cheek, stroking the blushing skin with your thumb. He looked so sweet - eyes tired, face still tinged red with lust and love. 

“I want to” you whispered back. “We will, Ji.” 

He smiled. You could die happy if the last thing you saw was that beautiful smile.

“No, I mean marry me. I’m asking. I’m proposing, I guess.” 

Marry him. He’s asking.

Of all the things that could have come out of your mouth, you laughed. You didn’t want to laugh at your boyfriend’s vulnerability, his gentile and his romance, but there was no way you were receiving the thing you wanted most in the world on a random Tuesday night in bed. 

You weren’t worthy of being his wife yet. You still had so much you had to give him, so many wounds to heal and things to prove.

He couldn’t possibly want to marry imperfect, frustrating you.

You didn’t have any words for him. You just stared, jaw slack, nothing flowing into your brain. 

“My love?”

You shook your head a bit. “You want to get married?” You stammered. “To me? Now?”

“More than I want to breathe air.”

You had always imagined Sanji’s proposal being more grand than any royal kingdom in the Grand Line. Of course he had always bragged on and on about how he was going to go above and beyond to ensure you said yes. The thought of it had always made you a bit nervous. You weren’t exactly into pomp and circumstance the way Sanji was in public. You were always preferential to this Sanji, soft and squishy Sanji with no walls up between the two of you. Of course you would have said yes no matter how Sanji asked for your hand, but being asked in your bed, not even clothes between you, was a welcome surprise.  

In that moment, thoughts crashed down on your mind like a tidal wave. You saw yourself dressed in white, Sanji in a handsome suit as two of you joined hands and laughed your way through wedding vows. You saw a honeymoon on a crystal clear beach with good drinks and lovemaking. You saw the two of you growing old together, getting a home, having children.

For the first time, you saw a future that went deeper and further than just a few months. You saw forever, a forever you weren’t afraid of.

“Yes” you breathed before you had even realized what you were saying. “Yes. Yes, let’s get married.” 

His lips tore into the largest smile you’d ever seen on his face. He closed the distance between you, pressing his lips hard to yours and pulling you against him by your hips. Nothing was held back. Years of pining and waiting, sacrificing and learning to love one another seemed to burst out from just a single kiss. He lavished you with his lips, his tongue, his teeth, both hands roaming your naked back. It felt like he believed he’d never be able to kiss you again.

“My fiancée” he whispered, pulling back just enough to form the words on his lip. “You’ll be my wife.”

You giggled despite still being breathless from the kiss. “You’ll be my husband.” 

That set him off on a burst of  joy he didn’t appear able to contain. His lips were back on yours in an instant. He rolled you onto his chest, naked bodies pressed together in the already hot, humid room. His lips tasted like sweat and cigarettes, and you were addicted. 

You always had been.

Sanji reached down, grabbing your thighs and pulling them apart across his hips so you were straddling him. 

“Ji” you laughed, rubbing the tip of your nose on his. “We just had sex. You are impossible.” 

He smiled that million berry smile he used to capture your heart in the first place. “You’re my fiancée now” he breathed. “Gotta practice how I’ll make love to you on our wedding night. It has to be perfect.” 

You felt your skin heat up at his words. How was he still able to fluster you after all this time?

“It’s always perfect with you, Sanji.” 

He placed a quick, small kiss on your already swollen lips. “Do you remember the first time? After Drum Island when my back cramped and you had to spend the night waking me up so my back wouldn’t lock up?” 

You laughed out loud at the memory. Your first time being intimate together had been so perfect, sweet and cautious in Alabasta. In the midst of the emotional cries and loving touches, Sanji had cried out in pain, his back injury from Drum Island sending him into agony. Instead of spending the afterglow of sex cuddling and talking in bed, you had to massage his aching muscles and soothe him to sleep. 

It was odd and hilarious and awkward. It was perfectly you two. 

You tapped his nose. “If I have to massage knots out of your back on our wedding night, it will be the best night of my life.”

Sanji flinches away from you when you dab the antiseptic down on his swollen side.

You’ve hurt him. 

Again.  

It breaks you, but you can’t break. Sanji would surely be cut on the pieces trying to put you back together.

“I’m sorry” you breathe, trying to hold your voice steady as the tears that have welled in your eyes threaten to pour. “You’re doing so good, Sanji. Breathe for me.” 

He inhales -albeit shakily- as you press the cloth back down on the wound. No matter how gentle you are, not matter how desperately you try not to bring him anymore pain, it doesn’t matter. He simply can’t handle more.  

He cries out, face twisting in pain as his body slumps forward and tears drip into his hands. 

“Ji?” You begin, bringing an arm around the chair he’s in to help hold him up. “Sanji? Are you passing out?” 

He nods weakly. “My ears are ringing.  I can’t see.” 

You’re able to push him back into the chair enough to steady him before rising to your feet. 

“I’m going to get Chopper. I’m gonna get you in bed first” you tell him, reaching for him. 

He shakes his head. “No Chopper, I’m okay. I’m fine now. It was just the pain.” 

You hesitate. Any other day you’d let Sanji hold onto his pride, but the urge to run for more help is too strong within you. He has to hurt to get better, but you just can’t fucking stand to hurt him anymore. You can’t take it, but you have to.

You tear up the lump in your throat with your teeth and swallow it down.

“Are you positive?” 

He nods. “Keep going.”

You sigh, kneeling back down beside him to continue dressing a gruesome burn on his rib cage. It sickens you physically to look at the damn thing. It stirs something primal in you, something that wants to find everyone that’s ever laid a threatening finger on your Sanji and tear them open. 

“You said they burned you with a cattle prod?” You question. “I’m worried about this, Sanji.” 

“It was something like that, electric pole. Pierced my skin and shocked me.” 

The wound is absolutely hideous, pus covered and dripping a strange orange fluid. It’s been like this since the lot of you returned to the Sunny the day before. Sanji hasn’t told Chopper about it. The doctor is busy caring for other Strawhats that were injured by Big Mom’s crew, and Sanji keeps insisting to you that he’s already been too big a burden on them in the last few weeks. 

It makes you ache, hearing the love of your life call himself a burden.

You try to be gentler this time. You go back in at the wound, Sanji hissing when you do. The antiseptic makes the wound bubble a bit. It drips, blood and pus running down Sanji’s side. 

You’re quick to wipe it away, only to disturb more bruising on his fragile body. Sanji moans, burying his face in his hands. 

“You okay?” You wonder. “You’re almost done.” 

“Thank you, my love.” 

You grab the bandages from beside you, unraveling a large piece. “I’m just glad you’re home and you’re okay.” 

He turns his head to look at you as you spread the bandage over the wound. He looks more exhausted than you’ve ever seen him. Neither of you got any sleep last night, Sanji in too much pain while you fretted over his condition. Though he’d never mention it to the crew, he’s been terribly frightened. Small creaks of the Sunny make him stir. Approaching footsteps make him wrap an arm around you and act as though someone is coming to steal you away.

“You don’t sound like yourself. What’s the matter, my darling?” He asks you, retrieving you from your thoughts.

You don’t answer right away. The entirety of your week has been chewing on your mind since it began, and you still haven’t been able to unravel the entire mess. The image of your husband at the altar with another woman is burned into you brain. No matter how much you try to cover it with memories of the two of you together, you cannot. It’s like a parasite, consuming more and more of your mind the longer you allow it to linger.

“I missed you” you tell him simply. “I hated not knowing if you were dead or hurt. It was killing me.” 

You secure the bandage over his burn and stand up beside him. He frowns.

“I’m here” he promises you. “I’m home. I’m okay, my love.” 

You offer your hands to help him stand. He accepts, taking your hands and pulling himself to unsteady feet. 

“Thank you” he tells you again, his voice much softer now. “My love, I’m so, so, so sorry.”

You’re taken aback by your husband’s sudden shift in mood. His eyes are welling up once again, hands shaking in yours. 

You give him a weak smile. “Sanji, you have nothing to apologize for. You were protecting us and your dad. I understand.”

Despite himself, he gives a little smile when you refer to Zeff as his father. It isn’t a new thing for you. You’ve always felt that way about their relationship, but you’re glad that Sanji seems to finally be comfortable with the idea that Zeff is truly his father. The man surely deserves the title after years of putting up with the antics you and Sanji were able to pull in your youth. You never imagined that he’d be your father in law when you were just a little thing running around Baratie, but the joy of it has been one small bright spot in the last few days.

You scrambled behind your dad’s leg, clinging to the pants of his Marine uniform as you stared up at the man towering before you. No matter how many times you had met Chef Zeff, the former pirate never failed to make you a bit nervous. You were still trying to work out in your mind how you father -a powerful Marine- could be such close friends with a former pirate.

“Zeff” your father greeted politely, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. “How’s business? How’s your boy?” 

The man rolled his eyes. He never quite seemed as polite or cheery as your father. “Business is good. Sanji bit me yesterday.”

Your father’s gruff laughter sent a warm wave through your little chest. 

“Bit you?” You father questioned his friend. “Now why on earth would an eight-year-old bite you?” 

Zeff shrugged. “Kid’s scared of the dark. Patty put a pot on his head last night to tease ‘em and he was cryin’ and screamin’ so hard that he kicked me and bit me when I tried to pick ‘em up.” 

Sanji. Though you had never really met the little boy before, it was always a guarantee that you could catch him staring at you through a crack in the kitchen door. He’d peak his blond head out every few minutes while your family dined, and then dash away when you caught him. It always made your little heart sail, but he had never come out to say hello in the three months your family had been frequenting the Baratie. 

Your dad leaned to peak around his friend, so you did the same. Sure enough, there he was. Sanji stood with half of his face peering out from the double doors to the kitchen. When you spotted him, he nearly pealed from his skin as he turned tail and ran back into the kitchen. 

You dad frowned to Zeff. “Skittish little thing, isn’t he?” 

“Eh” Zeff began. “Wasn’t until a few months ago. Started havin’ nightmares and sleepwalking and all kinds of weird garbage. Odd kid.” 

Nightmares. You knew a thing or two about those.

“Go get the kid” your dad suggested. “This one here’s not exactly a social butterfly either.” 

He placed a hand atop your little head, ruffling your hair much to your discontent. 

Zeff looked unsure, but nodded despite himself. “He won’t come easy, little brat.”

With that, Zeff turned and headed toward the kitchen, leaving you standing in the now quiet restaurant with your dad. He looked down at you, nudging you slightly so you were standing in front of him. 

“Okay” he began, his eyes gentle and calm. “Sanji’s a little bit…different. Be nice.” 

You tilted your head. “I’m always nice, papa.” 

“I know” he assured you. “But Sanji can sometimes be not so nice, but it’s not his fault. You know how when you’re really, really scared at a scary story, and you scream without even thinking about doing it?” 

You nodded. 

“Well, sometimes when bad things happen to people, regular things can feel like hearing a really scary story. They might say things or be mean without realizing they’re doing it.” 

You didn’t quite understand. Bad thing? What bad thing possibly could have happened to such a little boy?

“Oi, Admiral” Zeff called from behind you, pulling you from the conversation with your father. “We got introductions to make.”

You turned, finding Zeff no longer alone. You’d never seen all of Sanji before, just his face. He was a skinny little thing, tall for his age with unkempt blond curls and a scowl on his face that looked permanent. It unsettled you a bit, but you didn’t want to show it. Boys back at home were apt to pick on you, and you weren’t about to let alone get the joy of doing so.

“Sanji” your dad greeted in the same voice he’d use with any other man. “How are you, buddy?” 

Sanji shrugged. That was the only response your father received. 

Zeff nudged the little boy in the back a bit, pointing at you now. 

“Oi, brat. There’s a lady. Say hello.” 

Sanji finally laid his eyes on you, blue and deep like the sea you’d sailed in on. He smiled at last. It was itty bitty, barely there and all deep dimples and cracked lips, but it was enough. Your heart damn near soared from your tiny little ribs. 

You were done for.

You reach up to push some of the hair from Sanji’s eyes. That same sea-blue gaze lands on you, and even though his dimples and freckles are lost to you now, you can picture the boyish face he once had in your mind. 

“I miss my dad” he says finally, breaking the silence that’s fallen over the two of you. “He’s probably burned down Baratie by now.”

For the first time in two weeks, you laugh. Some things just never change. No matter how much Sanji loves Zeff, he’ll never miss the opportunity to insult the man. 

“We haven’t seen him since our wedding” you remind your husband. “We should try to plan a trip home soon, or maybe get my dad to get Zeff to the Grand Line.”

Sanji finally finds it in himself to lower his body down your bed, sitting with a stiff back on the messy sheets. 

“He would never” he scoffs. “He’d make some half ass excuse that it’s our job to come visit an old man.” 

You take a seat next to him and place a gentle hand on his bare back. “We’ll make it work. We always do.” 

He appears to soothe back into your touch. His eyes flutter closed, a deep breath causing his bruised and battered chest to rise and fall. You don’t try to push him any further. Instead, you content yourself with lightly scratching his back.

After a few minutes of this soft silence, he turns his tired eyes to you. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. I love you” you tell him for probably the millionth time today. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do you? How’s your back?” 

You let your hand trail down to the long, straight scar in the curve of his low back. He hums when you run your fingers over it, a pleasant sound that reverberates in his his chest. 

“Sore” he admits. “It’s been sore for weeks.” 

You press two fingers into the muscles of his low back, pulling a low moan from his throat. 

“Fuck” he mutters. “Fuck that hurts.”

“Do you want me to stop?” 

He shakes his head. “Feels good, I think.”

He whines when you pull your hand away and lay it over his.  

“Come on, lay down. I’m gonna rub your back” you direct. “Tell me if it gets to be too much.” 

He does as he’s told, slowly climbing into bed and collapsing onto his front. 

His back has always been scarred, sore and rough. You’ve always been obsessed with ridding him of his shirt and massaging his muscles until he’s snoring away into the pillows. There’s a vulnerability to it, a sense of trust. He has enough faith in your love for him to turn his back on you, loosen his muscles, and let you touch the hurting skin.

You begin the massage the way you do every night. You start at his tight, aching shoulders. They’re a bit freckled, pale and soft when your thumbs begin to work into the muscle. He sighs into the sheets and immediately begins to loosen up beneath you. 

“Feel good?” 

“So fucking good.” 

You continue here for a few minutes before moving downward, careful not to upset the massive burn scar tissue between his shoulder blades. He always twitches and hisses a bit if you touch the marred skin too much. Of all the scars on his body, the ones left by Enel are the most sensitive. They never seem to fully heal. Today, the edges of the burn are raised and red as if it’s becoming irritated all these years later. You abandon the rough digging of your thumbs in favor of running your palms over the mark. 

“I assume you weren’t taking care of this while you were gone?” You hypothesize, running a finger along the burn. 

He shakes his head. “Couldn’t reach it.” 

“Tomorrow we’re taking a long bath and giving you a spa day” you tell him, leaning in to place the ghost of a kiss over the scar before moving your fingers further down his back. 

He snorts out a small laugh. “Spa day?” 

“You know” you begin. “My nice soaps, some lotion, a bath.” 

He rolls his head over on the pillow so you can see his eye. “You mean getting naked, wet, and rubbing each other with lotion?” 

“I hate you.” 

“Then why do you want me naked, wet, and slippery?” 

If he hadn’t had such a horrible time lately, you’d pinch him. He’s laughing beneath you at his own foul, odd words, and all you can do is blush as you laugh along with him. 

“Glad to see this mess hasn’t made you less of a perv” you tease him. 

He winks at you. “The most beautiful lady to ever grace the surface of the planet is on my back in her panties right now talking about sexy massages, and I’m the perv?” 

 “I never said the massage would be sexy.” 

“You could take those panties off and we could make it sexy.” 

Gods, he’s horrible, and Gods you missed him. 

The fun is cut short when your thumb strikes a bad chord in his lower back. He cries out loudly into his pillow, all the muscles in body locking into knots. 

“Sanji!” You gasp, scrambling off his back. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry, Ji. Are you okay?” 

He breathes heavily, exhaling loudly into the fabric. His hands are gripping the pillowcase so hard that his knuckles have gone white. 

“Sanji?”

He nods, but doesn’t speak. 

You can see the muscles in his back spasming a bit, the skin blushed and irritated with inflammation. 

“I’m going to get painkillers from Chopper” you inform him, finally putting your foot down. “You need them, Sanji.” 

He doesn’t argue with you. He just whines into the pillow as he seems to give in. 

You hate to leave him even for a moment, but you want him out of pain as soon as possible. 

The Thousand Sunny is quiet when you step out into the hall. It doesn’t shock you. No one was in particularly good spirits when you left Tatto, and no one wanted to get in the way of Sanji’s recovery. Everyone seemed like they just wanted to tend to their wounds and lie down in their beds. 

You make your way to the infirmary, only the sound of the ocean and your own footsteps to guide you. You’d find it peaceful if such a fresh hell hadn’t just bombarded your crew.

You give a soft knock when you reach the infirmary door. A bit of warmth flows through you when you hear the familiar sound of tiny little hooves clicking across the floor. 

You smile down at the little doctor when he opens the door. “Hey Chop.” 

He returns your joy. “Hi! What are you still doing awake?”

“Oh jeez” you begin, bringing your fingers up to massage the bridge of your nose. “Sanji’s hurting. Do you have a painkiller I can give him?” 

Chopper frowns. “Does he need me? I’m not busy!” 

You shake your head, reaching down to ruffle the doctor’s fur, his hat no where in sight. “I think he just needs some medicine and some rest. He’s grumpy.” 

Chopper’s face is covered in apprehension, but he doesn’t argue. “Come on in, I have stuff.” 

You follow the little reindeer into the room, placing yourself down on the bed as he begins to root through his drawers. 

“What kind of pain is he having?” He wonders, antlers knocking into things on his desk as he searches.

“His back” you reply. “From where Doctorine fixed it. He has a burn, too. It’s bad.” 

Chopper turns his head. “A burn? He didn’t show me a burn.”

“I think he would’ve hid everything from you if he’d been able to” you admit, a bit of guilt suddenly crawling up in your gut. “Something’s up with him. He’s going back and forth between being totally himself and being…odd.”

“Odd?”

“Yeah, like spaced out, I guess? I’m worried.” 

Chopper produces a little vial from his drawer, handing it over to you. “I’m no therapist, but it must have terrible to have to see all those awful people.” 

The green liquid in the vial unsettles you a bit, but you’re in no place to question your doctor. 

“Yeah” you mumble. “It’s so hard to get him to talk to me about stuff. He has this weird ‘men shouldn’t burden their women’ kind of thing.”

Chopper narrows his eyes, seeming to consider your words. 

“Hm” he ponders. “His dad said some pretty mean stuff about him, even just when we were leaving. Do you think they were mean to him about the kind of husband he is to you?” 

This little doctor, always so adorably wise. 

“I didn’t even think of that” you breathe. “You think?”

Chopper crawls up on the bed beside you, swinging his little legs off the ledge as he snuggles up to your side. “If they wanted him to marry the other lady, I don’t think they’d be very nice about you.” 

The thought of it makes your blood boil under your skin. You’ve spent the last decade trying to make Sanji feel like he’s worthy, like he can express himself and share his emotions. Even when you were just two young friends, Sanji could barely accept praise or appreciation. He viewed himself as a burden, and sometimes, it’s clear that he still does. The fact that Judge and those little monsters he made have stripped Sanji of all the progress he’s made is infuriating. 

You wrap your arm around Chopper then, giving the reindeer a tiny squeeze before rising to your feet. 

“Thank you, Chop” you tell him gently, smiling. “You could be a therapist, you know. You give great advice.”

His little hooves come together in a clap, his face pulling into a wide grin. “Stop! I’m just being silly! It’s not like I know anything about everything, ya know!” 

You would do just about anything for Chopper.

 “Love you, Chop” you say through a little laugh. “Night.” 

He waves goodbye, watching you go. You shuffle back to your room as quietly as you can, hoping not to have to explain Sanji’s state to any of the other Strawhats. You know that there’s going to be the eventual fallout from Sanji’s embarrassment over the crew seeing him breakdown. When he’s truly forced to face them again in a healthier state, you know it will be difficult for him.

You open your bedroom door slowly, hoping that Sanji has fallen asleep, but to no avail. Instead of resting as you told him to do, he’s back on his aching feet. He slowly makes his way around the room, grabbing up the bloody tissues and antiseptic bottle from the floor. 

“Sanji!” You snap, rushing to his side to pull the items from his hands. “You shouldn’t be bending and stretching. You need to lay down.” 

Despite the fact that he’s sweating, he waves you off. “I’m fine. The least I can do is help my beautiful lady clean up.” 

Fuck, it’s so hard to stand your ground and not allow that sugary sweet voice to lure you into his desires. You’re so used to him running about and doing things for you, tidying up and fixing you meals before you even realize you need to do it.

“Ji” you repeat. “Please. You’re gonna hurt yourself. Lie down.” 

His nose twitches a bit. 

Classic Sanji. He’s getting frustrated. 

He takes a deep breath and leaves that smile plastered on his face. “Love, I’m not helpless. I can pick up a few tissues and bottles.” 

It’s your turn to take some breaths, closing your eyes for a moment to try and steady yourself. You’re exhausted. You’ve been pushed to and far past your limits, but it isn’t Sanji’s fault. To him, he’s just trying to be a good husband.

“Ji” You begin again, slowly as if not to startle him. “The way you’re stretching is going to hurt that burn. If it reopens it might get infected. Please sit down for me.”

You can see his fist gripping the tissues in his hand, but he doesn’t show the building agitation on his face. He just speeds up his cleaning, hands quickly gathering things from the floor as he begins to shake. He looks almost like a child cleaning up his mess. It’s as if he thinks you’ll wake in the morning, see the disaster, and blame him for the mess. 

It burns you. 

“Sanji.”

You reach for him, but the instant your hand makes contact with his wrist, he pulls his arm away from you.

“I said I’m not helpless!”

The bottle of antiseptic in his hand is released upon his declaration, flying opposite the two of you across the room and shattering against the front of your dresser. 

Time stops. It’s as though neither of you is breathing, the room silent but for the waves slamming into the side of the Sunny. Antiseptic drips down to the floor. The drops of the liquid is hypnotic against your ears, pulling you into a swirling of panic that’s rising up in your chest like a fire. 

Never, not once in your life has Sanji been anything even close to violent at you. He’s refrains from even allowing you to see him when he fights or yells. He protects you from his rage. 

He protects you from himself.

You don’t speak as he looks away, walking over to where the bottle has shattered and bending down to begin picking up the shards of glass. He grunts when he makes it to the floor and reaches for his side for just a moment, but lets it pass as he cleans. 

You’re shaking. The ship suddenly feels cold, like all the good air has been sucked from it, leaving only an unbreathable weight. 

He didn’t mean to throw it. You know that much, but to see Sanji lose his cool with only you in the room is enough to send your heart breaking free from your ribs. It feels as though it’s already laid out before you on the floor, blood seeping in between the boards of your bedroom, poisoning the life you’ve made together before you can stop it.

In the midst of your own trembling, you hear Sanji’s voice from across the room.

“I’m sorry” he mumbles. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

His breathing is ragged now, heavy and quick as he cleans. Glass pieces slip form his fingers, hitting the floor again and breaking into even smaller shards. 

Crack.

Sanji curses under his breath, hands shaking as he roots through the fluid and glass.

Crack.

He goes down to one knee as his body is no longer able to hold him up. 

Crack.

He’s stopped cleaning. His hands fly to the front of the dresser to support his weight as his other knee gives, and a sob chokes up from somewhere deep in his chest.

He screams. He sits on his knees over the mess of broken glass beside your marital bed and screams. 

It’s visceral. It’s agonizing. It’s a sound you wish you could go back and never hear tear up from your husband’s throat.

You’re at his side in an instant. You collapse to your knees, wrapping your arms around him and allowing him to fall back into your chest. 

“I’m sorry” he weeps, hands clinging to your arm as if it’s the only thing holding him to the earth. “I’m sorry.” 

All you can think to do is hush him as you sit back on the floor. You pull the two of you away from the pile of broken glass, leaning against the bed so you can pull him against you. 

He’s broken. You’re now the one holding shattered glass in your hands. 

You can barely understand him when he begins to babble into your chest. 

“I almost hurt you” he frets. “I almost hurt you, and I hurt Luffy, and I hurt Nami, and I hurt Chopper. I hurt that poor fucking Charlotte girl and I hurt my sister and I made my mother sick.” 

He’s incoherent at the end. His hands pull at your shirt like he’s trying to sink into you, and you can only hold him. You can only rub his back and hush him until he calms from this indescribable pain. 

“My Sanji” you whisper, hands moving to stroke through his hair. “I scared you. You didn’t mean it. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” 

He doesn’t lift his face from the crook of your neck as he speaks. 

“Does it matter if I meant it?” He wonders. “Everything I do hurts someone whether I mean to or not.” 

“That’s not true” you assure him even though you know the words barely penetrate his panic. “Sanji, look at me.” 

He shakes his head against your neck. 

You bring a slow, gentle hand up to cradle his cheek, coaxing his tear-soaked face from your skin so you can meet his eyes. 

“Breathe” you direct him, hands holding him steady. “Breathe for me. In” -you take a long, slow inhale- “Out, okay?”

He follows, and though his breath is shaky, he’s able to catch it. You smile. 

“Good boy. Breathe slow. Count if you have to.” 

He does as he’s told. Over and over again, the two of you breathe together until his rhythm sounds human again. When you feel comfortable that he can once again breathe through his fear, you place a hand in his hair and slowly begin to stroke his scalp.

“You sacrificed yourself to save your father and your crew” you remind him. “That girl tried to shoot you, and you comforted her.”

He doesn’t reply, but appears to still be focused on slowing his breathing. You take the moment to continue on. 

“You take care of this crew. You feed us and rescue us and make sure that none of us ever want for anything you can give us.” 

He begins to gnaw at his bottom lip. “That doesn’t outweigh the amount of times I’ve screwed up” he counters. “You can’t tell me it does.”

You reach from him, wiping some of his tears away and tucking his ruffled bangs back. “Sanji, you were my friend when no one else wanted to be. I used to have a calendar in my room and I would count down the days until the next stupid fucking Marine Admiral dinner so I could see you at Baratie. When we’d go to school at home, I used to write your name and put little hearts around it so often that my mom would ask me if we were secretly dating when I was like, eleven.” 

He sniffs. “So?”

“So” you breathe, gently pulling him back in so he’s settled comfortably against your chest. “That was when we were eleven, and I’m still here. I knew you when you were eight and like, really weird, and when you were a teenager, and when we joined this crew. I can probably count on my hands the number of days I’ve gone without seeing you since we got here. I wouldn’t have married you if you were hurting people. I wouldn’t have stayed, but you make me feel safe.”

He doesn’t reply, but brings a hand up to begin tracing a finger over your collarbone. The repeated motion seems to soothe him, skilled hands brushing over your skin so lightly that you barely feel his presence. 

“I love you” you promise him. “I love you because you’re a good man. Everyone on this crew thinks so, and that’s why you’re here with us. That’s why we refused to leave there without you.” 

“I left a family behind” he whispers. 

“You left your abusers and an adult sister who thinks the world of you.” 

He takes a deep breath, removing his hand from your collarbone and finding your fingers that he can intertwine his with. 

“And” you begin, trying to keep your voice as soothing as you’ve ever made it. “You were five years old when your mom died, and she died to make you into exactly the man you are. She’d be so proud of you.” 

He grips your hand. “She’d love you.” 

You giggle a bit, pressing your lips to the top of his head. “Elegant genius Vinsmoke Sora would love a pirate that swears more than she showers?” 

He nods. “For being yourself. And for loving me.”

All you can think to do is hold him against you as your own tears flow. You’ve often wish that you would’ve gotten the chance to meet Sanji’s mother. You love her boy so dearly. From everything Sanji has told you about his past, you know that his mother probably died thinking he wouldn’t be cared for, wouldn’t be loved. You would give anything for the chance just to tell her that you’ll take care of him. 

After a few moments, you tap his back. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

You help him to rise to his feet, holding his beautiful hands in yours and even peppering kisses along them once you’re standing. Despite your affections, Sanji frowns. 

“Let me help you clean this mess up” he frets. “Please. I made it. It’s the least I can do, my love.”

You take his hand, pulling him back over to your bed and slowly helping him sit back down. “You are the sweetest, most delightful man in the world. Now get your ass in this bed and keep it there.” 

“My darling-“

You cut off his words with a kiss, leaning in and placing a gentle peck on his lips. He sighs, losing his resolve to tidy up and leans into your kiss. 

You separate from him, but keep your lips gently brushing his. 

“It’s very late” you whisper. “It’s time for bed.” 

He reaches up then, grabbing the collar of your t-shirt and pulling you back down into a kiss. It’s rough, strange for Sanji. He’s not one to touch you with any sort of ferocity, even sexually. He’s always been a gentle lover. He only touches you with vigor when he’s desperate, searching for some sort of security or reassurance. 

“Sanji” you gasp, pushing him away a bit. “My love, aren’t you tired? Aren’t you sore?” 

He shakes his head. “Just wanna kiss you for a bit, my beautiful.” 

His words are very much Sanji, but there’s still a sadness, a fear in his voice that you don’t like. It’s shaking, unsure. 

He’s insistent, though, so you don’t argue with him. He wraps an arm around your back, slowly lowering you down to the sheets. You do what you can to support your own weight on the way down, but he’s quiet eager. He sets you on your back and crawls over you with a strange look in his eyes. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to let your concern show. “Think you should take your pain meds first?” 

He replies by reconnecting your lips. He’s absolutely insatiable in this moment, gripping the sheets next to your head and forcing his tongue into your mouth. He hasn’t been like this in a while.

He sits up on his knees then, reaching to unbuckle his belt. It’s abandoned to the floor, and he wastes no time unbuttoning his jeans and flattening his body back over yours. 

You want so badly to ask if he’s okay, ask what more you can do for him, but he just tastes so good. His body feels right, comfortable over yours. His hardening length on your inner thigh is a familiar pressure. You want to touch him, pleasure him, but the image of him crying out in pain is stuck in your mind.

As if the universe is reading your thoughts, Sanji groans into your mouth, but not in the way you’d like him to. 

“Ji” you fret, pulling away. “Slow down. You’re really hurting.” 

He presses his forehead to yours. Tears drip from his eyes and onto your cheeks, rolling down your skin as if they are your own. 

“I’m sorry” he pants. “I missed you. I hated the thought of being someone else’s husband. I would’ve taken a thousand more punches and burns if it meant I didn’t have to marry someone else.” 

You reach up to cradle his bruised face in your hands. He’s hot, sweating. He nearly feels feverish. 

“I know you didn’t mean it” you promise him. “You’re mine. Now everyone else knows it too.” 

He kisses you and speaks against your lips. “Yours. It’s the best thing I am.”

You give him a soft, warm smile. “You should really get some sleep, Sanji. You’re in your own bed with your actual wife and your crew is right down the hall. It’s okay to rest.”

He shakes his head. This change in him has happened so quickly, like all the fear and desperation has materialized into the need to physically be released. He now craves touch, feeling, something to ground him in the moment. 

“I need you. I just need to touch you and make sure you’re really you” he breathes. “Please.”

Your heart burns for him. Anytime you and Sanji kiss or touch, he’s filled with joy. He smiles and laughs, places kisses all over you and showers you in praise. This need, this release of emotions is incredibly rare.

You place gentle hands on his shoulder, pushing him ever so softly to guide him down onto his back. He lets you, but is quick to wrap his arms around you again when you’re atop him to pull you close.

“Sanji” you begin in a whisper. “Talk to me. What do you need?” 

He looks as though he’s about to begin panicking again. God, he hasn’t gotten like this in so long. The nightmares, the panic attacks - it all began to slow when you got engaged. Before this mess, he was getting good sleep for the first time in ages and actually resting. 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, making your body rise and fall from where you straddle him. 

“I used to have nightmares that Judge would find you and torture you” he begins. “And then when I was there, he told me that if he got his hands on you, he’d kill you in front of me if I ever tried to leave.” 

If you ever see Vinsmoke Judge again, you’re going to kill him. 

“You won” you remind him. “We’re here together. We’re all safe. It’s okay.”

He shrugs. “I’ve had nightmares about all the ways he could kill you. I’m afraid to sleep.” 

There it is, the admission. It always takes you so long to coax Sanji’s true concerns. 

You brush his bangs out of his eyes, stroking your fingers down his bruised cheek. “Then let’s rest. I can hold you, or I can stay up for you. I can do whatever you want me to do.” 

He bats his eyes away, but reaches up to pull on the waistline of your panties. 

“I…can you…” he trails off, his cheeks going red, but you understand. 

You lean down to give him a quick kiss before reaching for the hem of your shirt. 

“What do you need?” You ask him again, a new weight to the question as you pull your shirt over your head and reveal your bare body to him. 

He reaches for you, letting his fingers slowly trace down the bumps of your vertebrae. “Anything you’re willing to give me.”

Willing to give him. It’s a terrible way to word it in your mind. You’re never ‘willing’ to give Sanji anything. You’re happy to give him everything. He already has everything. He’s the only man you’ve ever loved, the only man you’ve ever given yourself to. He has your heart, your soul, your body, and he treats all of it with such tender love. 

How can he not know that?

“Do you think that you have to earn love?” You ask him suddenly, climbing off of him to remove the rest of your underwear and begin work on his pants.

His eyes go wide. He doesn’t even have a reaction when you rid him of his dress pants and boxers, too focused on your face and your question to move a muscle. 

Only when you gingerly take him in your hand does he exhale softly, letting his eyes drift shut. 

“I do have to earn back your love” he tells you softly. “I left you.”

You sigh, but know your patience has to persevere. For Sanji, physical intimacy always brings about vulnerability. He’s emotional lover, open and feeling.  

“To save me” you counter.

He doesn’t argue, but instead grips your arm as your hand tightens around his length. 

You follow his lead and release him from your grip, earning a low whine as you crawl back over him. His skin is flushed and his eyes have grown glossy. 

“Listen to me” you begin, hovering so your face is just a breath from his. “Everything you’ve done since the moment I met you has made my life better, Sanji. You are such a sweet boy. You don’t have to keep driving yourself into the ground to earn love from the people around you.” 

He exhales, a tear finding its way down his cheek. 

“I saw you” he breathes, shaking his head. “I saw the look on your face when I told Luffy I didn’t want to come back.” 

You brush the tear away with your thumb. “And I was there when you begged us to let you come home. We’re not robots, Ji. We understand why you did everything you did.” 

He sighs. “I never want to hurt you” he whispers. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It’s chaste all things considered, your hand coming to cradle his aching cheek. 

“And I’m sorry that I didn’t get to you before they hurt you” you say to him, so quietly that you can barely hear your own words. “I promised I’d never let anyone hurt you.” 

So many times; so many times you’ve promised Sanji you’d never let anyone hurt him, and this week has been the ultimate betrayal of that promise. 

So much is just flowing from your lips now. So much has built up in you since the moment you read Sanji’s letter that he was leaving the Strawhats. Anger, terror, guilt. Even now with Sanji in your arms, your stomach twists at the sight of his wounds. 

Sanji turns his head to place a kiss on the palm of your hand. “Do you think it’s a good thing that we’re bothered by each other’s pain?” 

“Maybe” you whisper, bringing your fingers to his lips to slowly trace his Cupid’s bow. “Are you still in pain?” 

“Only because you’re still so far away from me” he tells you. “I want more. I want you.”

You don’t keep him waiting. Instead of trying to sort through more words, instead of forcing your tired and confused mouth to babble out more nonsense, you bend forward to press your mouth on his. 

It’s most familiar thing in the word, the safest you’ve ever felt. He’s home. He’s the only person in the world that knows everything about every inch of you.

How did you manage to let him go? How in the world did you let someone hurt him?

You press yourself closer to his chest, bending so far that your behind slides back and brushes against his cock. 

He hums quietly into your mouth, gently taking your face and pulling back. 

“Let me sit up” he urges you. “You can sit in my lap. I know this isn’t good for your back.” 

His concern reminds you of the aching and burning that’s rushing up your spine. It’s been that way since you got here, the stress doing nothing to help your constantly sore muscles. 

You run a hand through his hand. “You sure? I’m more worried about your chest.” 

As if to prove to you that he’s fine, he arches back a bit, stretching out his long torso. His plan backfires when he winces and curls back up at the action. 

“Mmmm” he groans, desperately trying to keep his voice neutral. “I’ll be fine sitting up. It’s stretching that hurts.” 

You don’t quite believe him, but you want to appease him a bit this evening. Sanji lives to please. If he has the slightest idea that he can pleasure you, he’ll go through great lengths to do just that. 

You swing your legs over his narrow hips and offer him your hands. He accepts, using your strength to push himself up so he’s leaning against your headboard. You’re more than happy to quickly scramble back into his lap, his cock nestled against your stomach.

He’s still for a moment, content to lean his forehead against yours and take a few deep breaths. Typically, he’s raring to go the instant you get your clothes off. He’s always a gentleman of course, trembling as he asks to perform his every move and waiting to see how you respond before he proceeds. He is never, however, calm and silent. He’s a whiny, impatient darling. This slow and soft behavior is new. 

“You okay?” You wonder, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer.

 The friction brings that familiar moan from his throat, but he doesn’t pull away from you. 

“I really thought I’d never be with you like this again” he whispers. “I laid in bed every night and just tried to remember everything about you so I wouldn’t forget you.” 

That pain is back again, the one in the center of your chest that rears its ugly head whenever you think of Sanji’s suffering. There’s nothing more you can do, no closer you can hold him, and yet you still feel like you have to be better for him, be more. 

“What can I do?” You wonder. “ I wanna make this easier for you.” 

He kisses you gently, loosely, letting his lips stay on yours as he speaks. “You’re perfect” he tells you simply. “There’s nothing more you could possibly do for me than just being you, my darling.”

You kiss him again. He grabs your hips, pulling you against him in a slow, languid rolling motion. 

He devours the friction. His moans on your lips are delicious, deep and trembling as that usual impatience begins to creep into his movements. 

He pulls his lips from yours and buries his face into the crook of your neck. Wet, kiss-swollen lips lave at your skin. 

“I need you” he whispers, his voice shaking. “Please.” 

As much as you adore hearing Sanji beg, you know shouldn’t keep him on edge tonight. Physical touch, love-making, intimacy; all are things that have always been able to calm your lover’s racing mind. Knowing that your body is enough to set his mind at ease is a strange yet endearing feeling. 

You sit yourself up on your knees, taking his length in your hand and slowly -as if to savor it- sink your body down over his. 

His eyes slowly shut as a sigh leaves his body. Relief is written on his face, his head rolling back to settle against the wall. 

You let your fingers brush gently across his cheeks. “Sanji?” 

A hard swallow bobs his Adam’s apple in his throat, but he doesn’t look up to you. He just wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest. 

The shift in his position inside you makes you shiver. You want so badly to grasp his face and kiss him until you can’t breathe, but you don’t want to rush him. He’s been through so much. He’s been so deprived of softness and care for all his life while working tirelessly to give it to others. 

He deserves your warmth. He deserves your patience.

After a minute of this odd peace, he raises his head and buries his face back into your neck. His hands raise you slowly on his hips, pumping his cock into you a few time before his grip tightens. 

“Is this okay?” He wonders, kissing your neck. “I hope I didn’t rush you.” 

You’re so lost in the delectable, burning stretch of taking him that you nearly miss his question. His face is shrouded in worry when you look up at him. 

You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. To qualm his worries, you press your hips down until he bottoms out, so deep that you tilt your head back to let out a quiet moan. He nearly whines as you grind forward, his entire length buried inside you. 

“Oh fuck” he breathes. “Fuck, I was made for you, darling.” 

His words, the sounds he makes; it’s all like fine wine to you. It spurs you on, knowing that the longer you have him whining and shaking beneath you, the closer you get to being drunk on his fucked out, spacey expression in the afterglow. 

You want to ravage him, bite down on his tender flesh and bounce your body on his cock, but you refrain. He’s too sweet with his face nuzzling your neck. His little whines are too soft.

“I love you” you assure him, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re so good to me.”

The praise makes him thrust his hips up to meet you. You can feel his cock throbbing, fingers digging into your hips to hold you down as he continues his slow pace. 

He attaches his lips to your neck and nips at the skin. “Can I lay you down? I want more.” 

You nod, urging his face from your neck so you could press a kiss to his lips. 

He wastes no time pulling your body even tighter against his and guiding you gently down into the sheets, being sure to cradle your head before softly letting it down on your pillow. 

You smile up at him, his cheeks blushed. 

“You know I basically helped fight the mob this weekend, yeah?” You remind him. “You’re being so gentle.” 

Your teasing doesn’t seem to get to him. His face is almost trance-like. He moves a piece of hair out of your face and exhales. 

“You deserve to be kept safe” he tells you. “Even from me.” 

There’s something heavy about the sentiment, something that weighs on your chest. He says it with such a kind and soft voice, but you hate every bit of it. There’s nothing about Sanji you’d ever need to be kept safe from, nothing in him that could hurt you. 

“Sanji” you breathe, aching hips crying out just a bit as he hooks your legs around his hips so he can sink back into you. 

You try to contain yourself as you arch close to him from the sensation. He feels perfect inside you, finally as close to you as possible where you can pleasure him with just a grind of your hips or a ghosting of your lips over skin. 

“Ji” you whine. “My love, there’s nothing about you I want to be safe from.” 

He replies by pressing his hips into yours, beginning to set a steady pace of his body on yours. It’s clear that he no longer wants so speak, but instead wants to chase his own high while pulling moans from your throat.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full of him. Every time your bodies meet, he feels deeper, closer than usual. It might be the unbearable longing you’ve had for him the last few weeks. It might be the way he’s clawing you closer, trying to press the space between the two of you away, but you don’t care. He’s finally here with you, exactly the way you’ve needed for so many nights. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, unable to help yourself as you gingerly sink your teeth into his shoulder. You’re nearly hungry for him. Even having his cock fucking deeper into you with every thrust isn’t close enough.

He cries out into your neck at the unexpected sting. You don’t let the pain linger for long, kitten licking the pink mark you left on his flesh. 

“My darling” he moans, lips still pressed against your neck. “More. Please.”

He continues to whine into your shoulder when his words are finished, his hips striking yours with and aching, newfound fervor. 

Your lips caress the teeth mark now throbbing before you. “You’re already bruised enough, my love. I don’t wanna leave anymore marks on you.” 

He reaches down to grab your thighs then, hiking them up further so he can press closer to you. The new angle is punishing. He slows his pace, but only so he can keep his cock buried inside you to repeatedly grind up into your g-spot. 

“Please” he pleads, huffing into your neck. “Please. I need more. It makes me feel human.”

His words tear you open down the middle. 

Make him feel human.

You tangle your fingers into his hair and give a pull. He moans, the deep sound spreading from his chest to yours as it vibrates through your ribs. 

Pain. That’s new for Sanji. 

“I don’t want to hurt you” you admit to him, releasing his hair and stroking it softly back over his head. 

He places a featherlight kiss on you neck. “I like it. I promise. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.” 

He’s never been one to ask you for things like this in bed. He’s all about pleasing you, giving you everything. Your ecstasy has always provided him with his own, so you’re a little thrown hearing him ask for something in such a desperate tone. 

You return the soft kiss on his cheek. “Okay. Let me know if you want me to tone it down.” 

He nods, sighing when you lock your ankles in the small of his back. 

Your bodies are pressed so closely that you can almost feel his heartbeat as his thrusts pick up again. He’s shaking, maybe from his injuries, maybe from the anticipation when your teeth graze against his neck. You test the waters by giving little nips to the sensitive skin.  

His breath hitches, his hips stuttering a bit. “Please. Baby, please.”

You let your hands fall a bit from his hair, landing on his broad shoulders. Your teeth migrate down as well and bite down into his other shoulder. 

He thrusts so deeply into you that you scream into the bite, teeth sinking even further. 

“Oh. Oh fuck“ he moans. “Thank you baby. Fuck.” 

You remove your teeth, the taste of iron on your tongue. White hot terror sears through you when you see a small trail of blood trickle down his shoulder and drip onto your skin. You freeze, reaching for the wound. 

“Sanji-“ 

“Don’t apologize” he interjects quickly. “Feels so good.” 

He readjusts himself so he’s higher on your body, your knees nearly touching your shoulders. The position burns nearly every muscle in your body, but his cock is so deep that you can’t bring yourself to care.

“So full” you mumble, head lolling back into the pillows. “Fuck, Sanji. More for me, sweet boy.”

Sanji takes the opportunity to kiss your throat, drawing the tip of his tongue up until he can kiss at your chin, your cheeks. It clear that he’s eating the praise up, hips stuttering with each thrust after it leaves your lips. 

“I love you” he groans into your skin. “Fuck, I love you. So close.” 

You don’t know what’s coming over you, but you let your fingernails drag down Sanji’s back until your hands reach his behind. You’re desperate for him. You claw at his toned bum, hips, back. You know you’re leaving marks, but you’re too far gone now. His thrusts are deep and hard, his cock barely leaving your body as he chases his high.  

“So good, baby” you praise him, words pouring from your lips like honey. “So good, Sanji. Let go for me.” 

He whines into your neck. He’s trembling above you, body weight almost completely pressed down onto your as he nips and sucks at your neck. 

God, you’re both going to be marked up to hell tomorrow. You’ll never hear the end of it from Nami, but you don’t care.

You have your Sanji. He’s with you. He’s in you. You have everything you need. 

“Fuck” Sanji cries suddenly. “I can’t…I can’t, baby.” 

Contrary to the rest of the evening, you gently kiss his cheek. “Tell me what you need.”

He pulls his face away from you, but you’re stunned to find tears streaming down his face. 

“Sanji” you gasp, reaching up to wipe them away with your thumb. 

His eyes flutter closed as he continues to fuck into you. “I need…fuck, you. More. Anything.”

You cradle his face in your hands and bring his forehead down to meet yours. His tears dripping onto your cheeks is like a baptism, washing the horror, the pain, the terror of the last few days. The sins you engaged in to bring him back to you are cleaned from your soul when he buries himself into you and finally finds his peak. You’re right behind him, the heat of it all pushing you rapidly over the edge as you cling to him for some sort of balance. 

He cries your name in a broken, quiet voice as he lazily thrusts through his orgasm. You’re enamored by his huffing breath and quiet whines. It’s perfect. It’s Sanji. 

He’s with you. He’s safe.

You don’t know how much time passes after. Sanji rolls onto his back, holding you on top of him with a grip that almost feels fearful. You speak to him a hushed tone while you stroke his skin. 

“I’m here. No one’s gonna take me from you.”

“You’re safe. You’re home.” 

“I’m not letting you go again.” 

He continues to silently cry, but it feels almost like a release. His breathing slows and his heart calms as the tears flow, his muscles easing until the two of you are tangled together in a comfortable cuddle. 

After what seems like hours, you prop yourself up on your elbows and look down at him.

He smiles at you, a real smile despite his eyes still being swollen from his tears. 

“Hi” he whispers. 

You push his bangs out of his eyes. “Hi. I think I need a shower.” 

He pouts. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

The warmth in your heart from seeing your husband’s typical goofiness is indescribable.You’re no fool. You know it’s going to be awhile before he’s himself again, and you know that this experience is always going to be a shadow that gazes at the two of you every now again. But, if you can just hold onto him, hold him together when he begins to fray, you’re confident that the two of you can grin and bear it together. 

You lean down to kiss his nose. He can’t maintain the pout when you do, lips breaking into a smile. 

“You should check to see if Chopper is still awake” you urge him, knowing that night-owl doctor is surely still in his room mixing away with his medicines. “Have him take a look at that burn, and then we can go to sleep.” 

You know that it’s the post-sex brain fog that makes him give in, but a win is a win.

“Fine” he caves. “But hurry back. I never wanna sleep without my beauty again.” 

The two of you untangle your bodies and throw on whatever clothes you can find, but as sanji reaches for the doorknob, you stop him. 

“Ji?” You begin, walking up behind your husband and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything for my sweet.”

You hesitate, not wanting to upset him further, but knowing you won’t be able to rest with the question still lingering in your mind. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘it makes me feel human’?” You breathe, the question feeling sour on your lips. 

Sanji is quiet for a solid two minutes. You don’t rush him, but you do grow nervous when his grip on your hands tightens. 

Finally, he tangles his fingers with yours and sighs. 

“They’re barely human beings” he whispers. “My brothers, I mean. They don’t…they don’t feel anything.” 

You and Sanji had a conversation about his siblings in the hours after leaving Tatto, but he didn’t want to go too deeply into it. You stay quiet, waiting for him to be ready to speak. 

“It’s part of the reason I always have my hands all over you” he tells you, a small change in his voice making you lift your head a bit. “Besides, ya know, your stunning and indescribable beauty.” 

You tickle his belly a bit, earning a small laugh before he continues speaking. 

“I figure that if I can touch you and feel my heart beat faster, or see you naked and still get nervous, then I win. I can still feel.” 

You kiss his bare back. “I don’t want that to include hurting yourself or letting other people hurt you.”

“It doesn’t” he promises you. “But to let you bite me or scratch me and be able to trust that you won’t take it too far is about as vulnerable as I can get. I like trusting you. I like testing that boundary, if that makes any sort of sense. Every time I do, I get reassured that I’m loved.”

The tears are instant. Never, not a single time in your relationship has Sanji acknowledged that he is, in fact, incredibly loved. He always darts his eyes away and gives an awkward laugh when you remind him. 

‘I’m loved.’

It’s the most amazing thing he’s ever said you. 

“I fucking love you” you breathe. “I missed you, Sanji.” 

He sighs at the feeling of your lips tracing along the skin of his back. “I missed being able to trust someone around me. I love you.”

“I trust you” you assure him, bringing your kisses across his aching shoulders. “Do you trust me?” 

“With my soul.” 

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Unpredictable, Part 8-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: This took me way too long to write but as per usual, please let me know what you think and if you want more.

Warnings: angst, negative family dynamics, eating issues, body issues, and swearing.

Word Count: 7.8k

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @badbishsblog, @gardenof-venus, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog, @kasslucilfer, @darksoul100

Luke’s smile would have been more contagious if my thoughts were not so jumbled. Even though he was standing right across from me, my brain refused to believe he was real. Sure, he was wearing his favorite brown jacket over a t-shirt with jeans, and the sun (or whatever light) highlighted the natural glow around him. But, it was impossible.

“Impossible?” Luke asked. “That’s a little harsh.”

I hesitated and pressed the back of my hand to my forehead. “Sorry, this is a lot to take in.”

But I could see the scene in my mind’s eye: the Vought clean-up crew hosing the blood off the cobblestone in front of Lamplighter, the chunks of Luke they put in biohazard bags, and the smell---

I wretched at the thought of it and tried not to double over. Luke rushed over to me and softly grasped my shoulders.

“Hey, are you okay, Y/N?” he asked.

“No,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I…I saw you die, and this is a messed up joke if this is a joke. Or…”

Luke sighed. “You’re not dead if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He slowly backed away and I straightened up. Then, I launched myself at him and he caught me in a bear hug, laughing as he did. The scent of pine and clean aftershave almost made me cry.

“I miss you,” I mumbled into his chest.

“I miss you too,” he replied.

“I wish none of this happened. Why didn’t you tell any of us what was going on?” I demanded.

Luke paused. “I didn’t know how but, it sounds like you guys are figuring things out.”

I slowly pulled away from Luke and eyed him. “How can you tell?”

Luke pursed his lips. “I’m a manifestation of Cate’s subconsciousness. So, I see everything she sees.”

At his words, my eyes wandered around the forest. At first glance, it looked like any other forest with large trees and whistling wind. But on closer inspection, there were no woodland creatures, no sounds of birds, and the sky was more like a large gray cloud with red cracks that flashed every few seconds.

“I’m in Cate’s head?”

“You catch on quick but then again, you always do.”

I looked up at Luke. “So, if I’m in here, what’s happening to my body? And where’s everyone else?”

“You touched Cate when she was in extreme duress and she retreated to her mind but she brought you with her,” Luke explained. “Your body could be experiencing several things: seizure, vomiting, a comatose state, or hysteria.”

I groaned. “So, her going into shock put me in shock?”

“Pretty much.”

Another shock of lightning flashed across the “sky” but this time, it struck and destroyed a boulder that was about thirty feet away from Luke and me. The crash made me jump and Luke grabbed my arm.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“She’s kind of self-destructing. This hasn’t happened before and the only way to get out is if she wakes up,” Luke warned.

“So, I just need to find Cate and wake us both up,” I confirmed with a nod.

Lightning cracked through the sky and I jumped further into Luke’s grip.

“Basically but you don’t have a lot of time. If she doesn’t wake up, you’ll be stuck here forever.”

His words hung heavy over me and I could feel pressure weighing down on my shoulders. Somehow, I had to find Cate and snap her out of this state. Even though she’d been through a lot in the last few hours, she didn’t have to go this far.

I managed a smile. “Well, at least I have you here as a guide.”

Luke straightened up and puffed out his chest. “Of course. So, all you have to do---”

An instant later, a flash of lightning took him with it. It was difficult to tell whether knowing he was already dead made this second loss easier or harder. At the same time, it was nice to see Luke again, to talk to him, and touch him.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to think. The best course of action would be to try to use my powers again and figure out the best route out. It definitely could not hurt after the last couple of tries.

I closed my eyes and focused on the best way to find Cate. However, it was like my powers didn’t exist at all. Before, it felt like they were just out of reach and this was definitely worse.

I opened my eyes as I felt my heartbeat pick up.

“Breathe, Y/N, breathe,” I hissed.

There was no time for my anxiety to spike. No one else was here except me and Cate and I was the only one who could find her.

After a few deep breaths, I opened my eyes and saw a large glossy oak door standing in front of me. The door looked familiar, and I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing its knob and pushing it open.

Seconds later, the bright light stunned me as I wandered into the space. When my eyes adjusted, I realized that I was in Dean Shetty’s office, complete with the expensive furniture and tapestry. Dean Shetty sat at her desk and stirred some sugar into her cup of tea. Cate was sitting across from her but she looked much more innocent, like she had when we first met.

She sipped from a pristine teacup and tapped her gloved fingers against the porcelain. She wore a white varsity sweater and ripped jeans.

“How is your first week as a sophomore?” Dean Shetty asked.

Cate nodded. “It’s going well so far. It feels different.”

“That’s only a natural feeling. You are much more in control of your powers and you are more experienced.”

“Thank you, Indira, it’s all because of your help.”

Dean Shetty shook her head and set her teacup down. “No, I only supported you; you did a lot of work. You are in the Top 20 for a reason.” She clasped her hands together. “Considering your progress, I think it’s time that I give you a new challenge.”

Cate raised her eyebrows. “Challenge?”

“Yes. I believe it is time for you to pass on what you learned and that you are ready now. There is a freshman that I would like you to meet. She is an incredibly bright, talented supe but, she needs some guidance to realize her full potential.” Dean Shetty grinned. “Considering how similar your abilities are, I believe you would be a fantastic match as her peer mentor.”

Cate paused. “Peer mentor?”

“Yes, a guide of sorts about how to succeed at Godolkin; who to befriend, what events to engage with, and how to gain more control over your abilities. These sorts of things tend to come better from someone who is of a similar age. What do you think?”

Even though it sounded like a question, it wasn’t. Dean Shetty’s tone was light but her eyes seemed to darken slightly and she straightened up a little as she eyed Cate. Cate stared at the teacup in her hand for a while, mulling things over.

“Okay, if you think it’s a good idea, then I’m open to it,” Cate declared.

Dean Shetty smiled. “Wonderful.”

“When do I meet her?”

A second later, someone knocked on the door behind me and Dean Shetty rose from her seat.

“Right now,” she commented.

As she walked towards me, Dean Shetty’s gaze never left the door. Even as she walked past me, she didn’t acknowledge me.

“They probably can’t see me,” I concluded.

Dean Shetty opened the door in one flawless motion but she stood in a way where I couldn’t see who was on the other side.

“Am I early?” a soft voice asked.

“No, you have impeccable timing. Come on in.”

Dean Shetty stepped aside and in walked a very anxious freshman version of myself. I watched as my freshman self fought to not grab at the black tennis skirt that swayed when she walked. The silk pressed curls bounced against the middle of her back as she approached Dean Shetty’s desk.

Cate stood when freshman me got close enough and Dean Shetty stood next to me.

“Cate, I’d like you to meet Y/N Y/L/N. She’s at the top of Brink’s first-year class and I am confident her star will continue to rise with proper guidance,” Dean Shetty announced.

Freshman me extended a hand towards Cate and Cate accepted it. “It’s nice to meet you. I saw your TikTok on supe psychology and it was really cool.”

Did I always ramble that much?

“I’m glad you liked it and it’s nice to meet you too,” Cate responded.

Dean Shetty gestured for Cate and freshman me to sit and she poured freshman me a cup of tea. “I was just telling Cate that I think she would be a wonderful peer mentor.”

“Peer mentor?” I echoed.

“Yes, someone your age who can help guide you through GOD U. I’m sure you’ve noticed how hectic it can be and not everyone survives here. Any freshman would kill to have personal time with a Top 20 supe but they do not all meet the standard to do so.”

Freshman me’s eyes widened with each word Dean Shetty spoke. “That’s amazing but, why me?”

“Like I said you are exceptional in your classes already and your skill set and Ms. Dunlap’s are similar and cause similar side effects. I believe she can help you navigate that as well as all things GOD U.”

Freshman me turned to Cate and smiled softly. “If you’re okay with it…”

“Of course. What is your ability, by the way?”

Freshman me rattled off my ability and Cate nodded, impressed. Then, Dean Shetty’s cell phone rang and she excused herself to take it. Cate leaned closer to Freshman Me.

“Don’t be so nervous. I already know that we’ll be friends,” she smiled.

Freshman me grinned in reply and I could feel the residual giddiness or that could have been me remembering this day. Cate was so impressive at that point that I was afraid that she wouldn’t want to be stuck with me or ignore me. But the anger that rose at the sight of Cate’s grin leapt out of me.

“If we were such good friends, why did you trap me in your head?” I hissed.

Cate turned to me. “I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I thought your powers were impressive and I could tell how powerful you were when we first met. I still want us to be friends.”

I stomped over to her. “Then, let’s get out of here. We can go together; we don’t have to stay here.”

But as quickly as she was there, she was gone. Suddenly, I was in the corner of the training gym and Luke, Andre, and Jordan were hanging out on the other end. Jordan was in their female form, wearing a baggy tank top and loose sweatpants, something they’d rarely wear outside of a memory.

I remembered this, this was the first time I ever trained with the Top Five. Cate had dragged me to the gym, insisting that I meet her friends and almost-boyfriend while also improving my combat skills. At the time, I thought she was crazy and that maybe it was a cruel prank but her genuine smile and encouragement were comforting.

Slowly, I approached the group, moving to stand near Jordan and listening to the conversation.

“So, who’s this girl Cate’s bringing?” Andre asked.

“Her mentee. Shetty set them up, but she sounds excited,” Luke answered.

“You don’t have a name?” Jordan asked.

Luke laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Cate mentioned it, but I can’t remember.”

Jordan rolled her eyes. “Well, this freshman better not waste my time.”

Luke playfully elbowed her. “Stop being so grumpy. If Shetty paired Cate with her, it probably means she’s impressive. At least give her a chance.”

Jordan scowled. “Why do you always have to be nice?”

Andre clapped his hands on Luke’s shoulders. “Because he’s Golden Boy.”

Watching past Jordan in all their surliness was jarring and I felt like a freshman again.

A second later, the training door opened, and I watched as Cate strutted in confidently with an arm wrapped around freshman me’s shoulders. I could feel the terror and anxiety wafting off freshman me as I watched her nervously eye the trio.

“Sorry, we’re late!” Cate called.

“It’s okay,” Luke insisted with a dazzling grin.

I giggled as Freshman me’s knees wobbled; it was funny how such a short time ago I couldn’t even make eye contact with Luke.

“Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N, my peer mentee. She’s doing amazing in her crim classes but needs a little help with combat,” Cate explained.

Freshman me did a small wave to everyone and Andre smirked as he swaggered up to her.

“Cate was keeping you all to herself, huh?” Andre commented.

Freshman me hesitated. “Uh…”

“Relax, Andre,” Luke said.

“Yeah, I don’t want you freaking her out with all that rizz,” Cate mocked.

Andre rolled his eyes and muttered something about the couple being “cockblockers”.

“Oh, you must know Jordan since they TA the first-year class,” Luke acknowledged.

“Um, sort of, we never…really…talk,” Freshman me admitted.

“Aw, don’t be scared of Jordan, their bark is worse than their bite,” Cate encouraged.

Andre raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

Jordan scoffed. “I’ll give you this, you’re the least annoying freshman.”

“Thanks?”

“Okay, let’s split up into pairs.” Cate turned to Freshman me. “Don’t worry about getting hurt----we never go all out in training and we only spar until someone’s knocked out of bounds.”

Freshman me nodded and I watched as she side-eyed Jordan. Even though I’d known that I’d have to spar with them, it didn’t make my nervousness any better. However, the four of them split up amongst themselves, with Andre and Luke going first, followed by Cate and Jordan, and decided that the winners of those rounds would play rock-paper-scissors to determine who sparred with me.

Andre and Luke’s fight was interesting, and I forgot how close of a match they were. Of course, Luke used his fire and flying abilities to his advantage, but Andre was still a force to be reckoned with. Luke still won and Andre grinned as Luke helped him to his feet afterwards. Cate and Jordan’s fight was as surprisingly decent as I remembered. Even though Jordan switched between their forms depending on the circumstance, Cate managed to keep up for a while. It wasn’t until Jordan leg swept her, knocking her out of bounds, that the fight ended.

“Not…fair,” Cate panted as she sat up.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Jordan teased as she helped her up.

Cate smirked and they stepped out of the ring. Andre playfully rubbed his hands together.

“So, who gets to fight the freshman?” he sang.

“It’s Y/N,” Cate corrected.

“Right, sorry.”

Freshman me smiled softly as she stood from her seat and walked closer to the group. Luke and Jordan faced each other and played rock-paper-scissors. Playing best out of three was a little cruel since Freshman me hoped to spar with Luke. At the very least, he would be nice when I inevitably lost. Jordan was difficult to read but I’d had a feeling that they would taunt me about losing.

When Jordan won, I couldn’t read their expression but Freshman me was terrified.

“Stop looking like I’m going to kill you,” Jordan snapped.

Freshman me jumped and Cate placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Like I said, don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” she whispered.

At the time, I was so frazzled that I couldn’t focus on the outcome of the fight. Instead, I had focused on keeping my lunch down. Instead of joining Andre, Cate, and me on the sidelines, Luke stood on the mat, a couple of feet outside the circle. He waited a couple of seconds before signaling for Freshman me and Jordan to spar.

My shoulders hiked up towards my ears as I watched Freshman me clumsily evade Jordan’s attacks. At that time, I’d learned how to predict my opponent’s movements but I rarely landed strong attacks. Brink thought that because my mental strength was so high my physical strength had no choice but to lag.

“It would be unfair at that point. But, as a future supe, you do need to learn the basics,” he’d instructed.

Freshman me’s form was all over the place; her guard slipped every few seconds, her feet never had solid contact with the ground, and any kick or punch was weak at worst and sloppy at best. I cringed when she took a small energy blast from Jordan that knocked her out of bounds. It didn’t hurt but it was definitely a shock at the time.

“Jordan!” Cate admonished as she jumped to her feet.

She started to rush forward but Andre held her back and Luke shook his head.

“She’s fine,” Luke mouthed.

Freshman me panted on the ground, sweat staining the lime green Alo set she wore a couple of shades darker. Jordan shifted into their male form as they sauntered over to me and extended a hand. Freshman me stared at his hand like it would turn into a snake at any second.

“Come on, you just saw I won’t bite,” he quipped.

At his words, Freshman me accepted his hand and Jordan pulled her to her feet in one move. I smiled as she almost bumped into him, but Jordan steadied her by gripping my forearms.

“I never thought you’d be this clumsy,” he commented.

Freshman me huffed. “I’m, uh, usually not this bad.”

“Well, your form needs some work, and you need to build up more confidence when you’re on the offense. But, you were great at evading me.” “Until that last move.”

“Not a lot of people could avoid that, especially not a freshman. Don’t worry, we’ll work on it.”

Freshman me frowned as Jordan turned and started sauntering back to Cate and Andre. “Wh-what does that mean?”

Jordan glanced at her over his shoulder. “It means I’ll spar with you more often. You can’t be one of Brink’s new favorites and be this bad at fighting, freshie.”

Freshman me continued to gawk at him as he walked away. Andre finally let Cate run over to Freshman me and she insisted on looking her over. When Jordan finally got close enough to me, he had the smallest smile on his face. I stood just as he bent down to grab his water bottle.

“I still don’t get how you flipped like that. You mostly ignored me until then and I was a horrible sparring partner,” I commented.

Jordan chuckled. “I thought you’d get it by now.”

When he turned to face me, my stomach dropped. I didn’t understand why I still had this reaction to him after everything that happened. No matter what, every time he looked at me, I felt warm all over.

“You agreed to train with some of the highest ranking supes on campus and even though you were intimidated, you did your best and you didn’t give up,” Jordan stated. “Before we sparred, I thought Brink liked you so much because of your ability but it was more than that: you face challenges, even when you don’t want to, like a real supe.”  

“So do you,” I pointed out.

Jordan shook his head. “Yeah, but it’s different when you do it. I didn’t want to dig into any of this GOD U shit but you didn’t hesitate. It’s scary but also inspiring.”

It took all my strength to keep my mouth from falling open. I inspired Jordan? The same Jordan who did everything in their power to stay in the Top Three. The same Jordan who impressed one of the most influential crime experts so much that they became his TA.

None of this made any sense and I wondered how long Jordan thought of me like that.

Do they actually think about you like that?

I blinked and my heart sunk at the realization that Cate could have been messing with me; this was her domain after all.

 But what if Cate knew what Jordan was thinking or feeling at the time? It was possible, especially if she had her gloves off.

“Jordan---"

“And that’s when I said, ‘I hate to tell you buddy but, you’re looking at the wrong end’!” a loud voice cut me off.

When I turned to face the direction of the voice, I was suddenly standing in the corner of the dining room at Mom’s. The candlelight from the tables reflected off the wall, giving the space a false sense of warmth. The scent of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, and collard greens tickled my nose as I wandered further into the room.

At the long table, Mom and Dad sat on opposite ends, the large spread Ms. Murphy, the family cook, prepared obstructing their views of each other. My brother, Isaac, sat on one side, grinning from ear to ear as both our parents laughed. My fourteen-year-old self sat across from him, smiling as she pushed some greens around on her plate.

I remembered this, this was our first Thanksgiving after Isaac took the Buenos Aires job. The tension was so thick in the air that I could have choked on it and it nearly stopped my appetite.

Younger me slouched in her chair, clad in a red plaid cap-sleeve dress with her hair swept up in a loose curly bun. My face was so much rounder then. As I slowly traversed the table, Isaac pushed up the sleeves of his charcoal gray Brooks Brothers sweater.

Everyone liked Isaac, boys, girls, adults, everyone. If no one fell for his charm, his good sense of humor, or his fantastic social skills, they tended to be drawn to his tall, broad frame and smooth copper skin. When I was a kid, Isaac was everything.

“And that happened your first day?” Dad asked as he adjusted his glasses.

Isaac shook his head. “First week.”

“As expected from our brilliant son,” Mom bragged, sipping some Dom Perignon.

Isaac’s laugh sounded like a deeper-pitched version of Denzel Washington’s. Younger me smiled widely at the sound while I stared on, knowing full well that he probably got it from years of practice.

“I mean, I’m still learning a lot. Everyone I work with has been very welcoming,” Isaac insisted.

“Are you learning a lot about the culture? In school, we learned that it’s so vibrant there,” Younger me piped in.

Mom’s gaze cut towards me. “Y/N, don’t interrupt Isaac.”

Younger me shrank back and I flinched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “Y/N was only asking a question, Y/M/N. She hasn’t seen him in months, it’s only natural.”

Isaac raised his hands. “It’s okay, everyone.” He looked at Younger me. “It’s a really good question, Y/N. These past two years, I’ve really immersed myself in the culture and I’ve even started picking up more Spanish. Also, the Argentinians are a very welcoming people and I’m so fortunate to work and live with them.”

For the first time, I realized how practiced Isaac sounded. It was the same way Coco sounded whenever she practiced speeches but, she was also going into political science.

Who was Isaac trying to impress or sway?

I made my way to Younger Me and stood against the wall behind her. Her eyes were so wide and sparkling, hanging on to Isaac’s every word. I wondered if that was the same way I looked when I was rushing Si Chi.

Younger Me ate a mouthful of yams and nodded happily. “I’m glad you’re having such a good time. We miss you here, though.”

“But this is a great opportunity for your brother, Y/N. We couldn’t hold him back here,” Dad interjected.

“Right, yeah---” “Yes,” Mom corrected.

“Yes,” Younger Me repeated, turning to Isaac. “Can you pass me the turkey?”

My stomach dropped as the memory echoed in my ears. I wrapped my arms around my waist and leaned further into the wall, rubbing my sides.

“Sure, Sis.” Isaac grabbed the dish and started to hand it over when Dad placed a hand on Isaac’s wrist.

“Y/N, you’ve already had a…generous helping. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” he asked gently.

I thought I was sinking into the ground as I watched Younger Me grasp for words and could feel how flustered she was in my chest.

“You can’t blame Y/N, Dad. Ms. Murphy’s an amazing cook,” Isaac tried.

Mom scoffed. “It’s all that cooking that made her fat.”

The room was silent for a moment. Suddenly, Dad looked both shocked and understanding as he stared at Mom, Mom was staring at a painting on another wall as she sipped her drink, and Isaac couldn’t take his eyes off the turkey dish in his hands.

I could feel the ball begin in Younger Me’s throat and the tears burned in her eyes as she tried to keep herself together.

“Y/M/N,” Dad admonished.

Mom cut her gaze towards him. “Don’t use that tone with me. Unlike you, I care for our daughter’s health. It’s especially important considering her abilities and we have no idea how obesity could impact them!”

Dad set the turkey dish down and Isaac started nibbling on some mac and cheese. “Don’t do that, I care about Y/N’s health. She has made a lot of progress thanks to my encouragement.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’re saying that like the dance lessons that I paid for had nothing to do with it?”

“Oh yes, Y/M/N, only your contributions supported our daughter. When will you stop acting like you’ve financially supported our children this entire time? Don’t forget who gave you the money to start your agency.”

If looks could kill, Dad would have been dead a long time ago. Mom threw her head back and drained the last of her glass. When she set the glass down, she maintained a neutral expression.

“You can stop throwing that in my face now, Y/D/N; I’m the one who grew it without your or anyone else’s help!”

They went back and forth for a few more minutes and I watched Younger Me’s mind race.

Finally, she interrupted, “Did I tell you that I got all As for the semester?”

The statement made Mom and Dad pause and they relaxed a little.

“That’s wonderful, Y/N,” Dad praised.

“That’s my little sister,” Isaac added with a grin. “Have you solved any cases recently?”

Younger Me grinned. “Well, there’s this one murder that happened out in Cincinnati; a woman was found in a dumpster horribly attacked. The police think it’s a one-off but, that makes no sense since it matches the MO of several other murdered women who were found in the state.”

“What’s the MO?” Isaac asked, sipping some pinot noir.

 That was when I noticed that there was something different about Isaac’s eyes. The light brown orbs looked slightly more playful than usual, almost mischievous.

“Oh, she was bludgeoned to death with a blunt object and raped post-mortem,” Younger Me rattled off.

“Y/N, we are eating,” Mom said slowly.

Younger Me hesitated. “Sorry, Mom, I was just answering Isaac’s question.”

“You’ll get better at reading situations, hon,” Dad assured.

Mom shook her head and started stabbing at some greens on her plate. “I don’t recall having this issue with Isaac.” She glanced warmly at him. “You were always so polite and well-mannered.”

“I was well-mannered,” I huffed.

Isaac smiled sheepishly. “It’s different for different people. Y/N will be fine.”

Younger Me nodded slightly but I knew she was trying to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

“I hope so. You know, Vought is merciless about who they select to represent them. With every B-list hero in my agency, they are trained to hell in PR. There can be no mistakes, Y/N, not if you want a future as a supe.”

Younger Me nodded. “Yes, Mom.”

After a few moments where the only sounds were cutlery hitting the plates, Ms. Murphy stepped into the dining room. The portly older black woman rubbed her hands on the towel attached to her apron.

“Pardon me but, dessert is about ready. Should I have the table cleared?” Ms. Murphy asked.

Isaac stood. “It’s alright, Ms. Murphy, I’ll clear the table.”

“Isaac, there’s no need, we have people for that,” Mom insisted.

“It’s okay, I’m happy to help.”

Ms. Murphy nodded and shot a glance in Younger Me’s direction before slipping back into the kitchen. Isaac gracefully collected his plate and started going around the table, collecting ours.

“What a polite boy I have,” Dad complimented, playfully punching Isaac’s arm as he past.

“Despite all that success you’re so humble,” Mom added. “Remember this when you start to get big, Y/N.”

Younger Me nodded and once Isaac was at the kitchen door, she stood. “I’ll go help with dessert.”

Neither of them responded as she trailed behind Isaac, and I trailed behind her. The kitchen smelled like pecan pie and my mouth watered. Ms. Murphy was fantastic at her job, but no one could do desserts like her. She claimed that the secret was that she used full-fat everything.

“A growing girl like you needs that,” she quipped once.

In one corner of the room, Ms. Murphy was adding the finishing touches to the immaculate pecan pie perched on a silver server. Isaac set the dirty dishes on the counter and opened the dishwasher. I decided the island was the best position since it gave me a good view of the two of us and kept me at a decent distance.

“Let me help you,” Younger Me insisted.

Isaac paused and nodded. “Sure, sis.”

“I’m gonna go take this out to your folks,” Ms. Murphy said, pecan pie in hand. She leaned down to Younger Me. “You eat as much of this as you want.”

Younger Me smiled softly as the older woman disappeared into the kitchen.

“It’s really good to have you home, Isaac,” Younger Me commented as she handed Isaac plates.

“You keep saying that,” Isaac joked.

“It’s true. It’s like before when you’re around,” Younger Me said.

Isaac tensed a little but continued loading the dishes. “So, how have things been since I was gone?”

“Horrible,” I stated.

At that time, Mom and Dad cooled off from World War III which was their divorce but they still fought every time they saw each other. Even though Dad moved out a while ago, they would still see each other for my dance recitals, cheer events, or awards ceremonies. And whenever one of them dropped me off with the other, the tension made me sick but the worst part was how they bad-mouthed each other.

They both said things that no daughter should hear about her parents.

“Fine, things have been fine,” Younger Me lied.

I could have cried for her as she fidgeted with a plate. At the time, I didn’t want to burden Isaac since all the phone calls and text conversations we had were so positive. He was doing important work and I didn’t want to complain. But at the same time, he had to know things were bad.

“That’s good to hear,” Isaac replied. “I want to make sure my little sister’s okay.”

Then, Younger Me hesitated and handed him a plate. She bit her bottom lip and several moments past before she said, “Actually, sometimes, things get really, really bad. They both say some things that I hope they don’t mean and sometimes, I know what’s coming but it still freaks me out.” Younger Me shrugged. “Sometimes, I wish I could escape far away from here, like you did.” As innocent as the words were, little did I know at the time that it would be enough to set Isaac off. He straightened from loading the dishes and closed the dishwasher door stronger than he had to. When he turned to Younger Me, the pleasant expression he wore all night disappeared; his jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed.

“You think I escaped?” he asked slowly.

Younger Me blinked and the realization of her words poured over her. “Isaac, I didn’t mean----”

“You think I took that job so that I could run away? It was a fantastic opportunity, and I would have been an idiot not to take it!” he hissed.

Younger Me flinched and I gritted my teeth. “No, it’s great, Isaac, really. We’re all so proud of you and you’ve been doing so much great work. I just meant that it must be nice to get away.”

“I would never want to get away from my family. Adults fight sometimes, Y/N, grow up.”

Isaac’s words stung against my face and I clenched my fists as Younger Me fumbled for words. As Younger Me pled more and more with Isaac, my anger grew.

“I’m sorry, Isaac, really. It’s okay, everything’s okay, don’t worry about us,” Younger Me insisted.

I scoffed. “Nothing was okay, and you had to know that.”

Then, Isaac’s gaze left Younger Me’s and burned into mine. “Stop overexaggerating, Y/N. You never went crazy and you got into the special supe school; you’re doing just fine, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

It was hard to tell whether Isaac’s tone or his insistence on being right was the nail in the coffin but I didn’t care as I charged around the island and stood in front of Younger Me.

“Are you kidding me? I had a million anxiety attacks, and I could barely sleep. No one noticed, though, because I almost killed myself keeping up good grades and trying not to eat too much because Mom and Dad would comment,” I snapped.

Isaac hesitated. “Like I said, though, you’re doing fine now.”

“I’m not fine!” I exclaimed. “I never was but I couldn’t show that because someone had to be the adult in this house. I still don’t understand how you all thought that was okay when it wasn’t.” I scoffed. “Wait, I have an idea, maybe it’s because perfect little Doctor Isaac couldn’t be burdened with the fact that he abandoned his little sister in hell!”

“I didn’t abandon you, it was a good job!” Isaac argued.

The laugh that erupted from my chest was spiteful and it had no joy or air in it. Then, I couldn’t stop laughing, to the point that I doubled over. Isaac must have thought I had lost it but I didn’t care as I straightened up.

“What are you laughing about?” he asked, frowning.

“You could have gotten a surgeon job anywhere in the country and you’re telling me the best offer was ten thousand miles away? You graduated at the top of the class, you had to have other offers.” I huffed. “I had to be so deep in denial but I knew, I had to know. But what does it matter as long as you’re still the favorite.”

“I’m not the favorite; you’re the one they made a superhero,” he defended.

“Please, Isaac, they think I’m a freak at worst and a profitable freak show at best. They never criticized you, they only ever did that with me.” I sniffed and looked up at him. “By the way, why didn’t you ever tell them that I wasn’t fat?”

Isaac hesitated. “What?”

“You were in school for, what, ten years and you became an expert on the human body and health. You could have stopped them from tormenting me about food and my body, but you didn’t. Why did you never defend me?”

His silence almost sent me into another fit of mad laughter, that and the stunned expression on his face. The giddiness and rage that flowed through my veins was almost dizzying as I stared at Isaac. I didn’t blink for so long that his face began to blur. Then, my legs started moving and I wandered around the state-of-the-art kitchen.

“You were always better at this than me-----the performing. It must have been easy coasting as an only child and every gold star, and every A was praised.” I paused and poked at the pot of greens. “They were happy back then.”

“Y/N, you’re talking crazy,” Isaac insisted.

I shook my head. “No, I’m not. All the overthinking and overanalyzing finally helped me realize the truth: you all hate me. No matter what cases I solved, how well I did in school, or how much weight I lost; it was never good enough.” Isaac was silent and I think it was the first time he didn’t know what to say. It was okay because I knew exactly what to say.

“This whole time, I thought that I had to earn people’s love and that if I just worked hard enough, I could get Mom to call me pretty or Dad to post a picture of us without trying to spite Mom.” I finally made eye contact with Isaac. “You made me think that I was broken.”

Then, the kitchen door swung open behind me and Mom and Dad entered the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Mom asked.

“We heard yelling,” Dad added.

I smiled as I turned to them. “You all made me think I was worthless unless I was perfect. I thought I was going to die so many nights because I made one mistake in an essay or lost a friend because my powers creeped them out. But none of you cared.”

None of them spoke and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear any of them. All they could do was lie since I finally realized their true feelings.

My family hated me.

None of them ever really loved me.

My vison blurred as I tried to make eye contact with them again. “How could you think I could end up perfect when you all screwed me up so bad? You make me question myself so much that I’m not even sure what I want anymore.”

I could feel the sobs coming on but I willed them to stay at bay for a moment.

“I’ve met a lot of amazing people at Godolkin, crazy, talented people. But two of them stand out. One of them is this standoffish bigender person who always has a comeback but is actually the kindest person I’ve ever met. The other one is this amazing girl who can see the brighter side of things no matter what, even when people betray her.” I sighed. “And I like both of them, I want to be with both of them, and I don’t know what any of it means and as much as that terrifies me, I’m so happy that I met them.”

They must have all been stunned but I couldn’t focus on them as my chest felt lighter but my throat constricted and I could feel my heart rate pick up. I slowly walked away from the oven and back to my original spot at the island. My hands crept onto the marble counter and I realized that my knees were wobbling.

“You know what’s funny, Isaac?”

Isaac jumped but eyed me.

“If you wanted to abandon me, you didn’t have to go to another continent. Mom and Dad managed to do it and I saw them every day.”

Then, the sobs broke from me and I pressed my hands to my mouth, trying to shove them back in but there was no point. My shoulders shook as I slipped to the ground, the pain barely registering to my brain as I hiccupped into my hands. The tears were hot as they ran down my face and everything hurt so bad and felt so good at the same time; it was like an emotional massage.

Everything that I thought and felt was finally out in the open and none of it was even real.

For a second, I thought a toddler was wailing at the top of their lungs but I almost started laughing again when I realized it was me.

This was it; I was going to be stuck in Cate’s head forever; alone and with nothing to show for it.

The first thing I noticed was something warm against my back. The second was a pair of strong arms wrapped around me. The grip was firm but non-threatening like the owner wanted me to know they were there. The third thing I noticed was Marie’s brown eyes staring back at me as she knelt in front of me.

I paused in my sobbing and sniffled. “Ar-are y-y-you r-r-real?”

“Yeah, I’m real,” she assured.

Her words made me freeze and I started trying to wipe my face, but Marie carefully grabbed my hands. Her thumbs rubbed the top of my hands, and I could feel my sobs slowing down.

“H-h-how’d y-y-you g-get h-here?”

“We found you and Cate and somehow got transported into her head,” Marie explained.

I sniffed, wincing at my congested nose.

“We got to go through a lot of memories, freshie,” Jordan mumbled behind me.

I tensed in their grip and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Andre standing off to the side. He glared at my family with so much malice that my parents cowered next to Isaac.

I gasped. “Th-this i-is s-so embarrassing. H-how m-much of t-that d-did y-you hear?”

“We heard everything you told your brother,” Andre stated.

Marie placed one of her hands on my face. “Breathe, Y/N, you’re hyperventilating.”

It took a couple of minutes, but I managed to even my breathing and once I did, I felt like shrinking away from her and Jordan.

“I can’t believe you were going through all this and never said anything,” Jordan muttered.

I shrugged. “How could I? You, Andre, Cate, Luke, Marie, and everyone in Si Chi are perfect. If I was going to be accepted, I had to be perfect but now you all know that I’m a mess.”

Marie grabbed my other hand again. “Everyone’s a mess; it doesn’t mean something is wrong with you.”

“If we’ve learned anything by wandering around in Cate’s head, it’s that everyone’s a mess,” Jordan mentioned.

I shook my head. “Don’t say that to try to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.”

Jordan quickly rattled off everything they saw: from Cate and Indira meeting to Andre and Cate cheating to Jordan knowing about Brink drugging Luke to Marie killing her parents. Even though he was brief, everything hit an emotional nerve and it almost shook me back into being myself.

“So don’t act like you’re special or anything, we’re all screw-ups,” Jordan concluded.

“And just so you know, I don’t think that you liking me and Jordan makes you weird or bad,” Marie confessed.

At her words, I jerked my head back to Jordan. “You told her?”

“No, you said it while you were yelling at your brother!” Jordan exclaimed.

My face warmed at the realization, and I groaned as I buried my head into Jordan’s shoulder. This day could not have gotten any worse.

“Wait, you told Jordan before you told me?” Marie asked.

“I was going to tell you but then I got sucked in here,” I murmured.

Marie huffed. “Well, you’ll both have to make it up to me once we get out of here.”

Wait, both?

Marie couldn’t be serious; it would be impossible for her to agree to any of this. It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. That didn’t stop my heart from pounding faster though as I leaned away from Jordan’s shoulder to look at her.

Before I could say anything, Jordan and Marie both helped me to my feet.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay?” Jordan offered.

“Uh-huh.”

At that moment, Andre approached my family and they tried to scramble away from him.

“You should all know that Y/N is the best thing to come from you shitty people. If I see you outside of here, we might have some problems,” Andre threatened.

“Please, don’t hurt us,” Mom begged.

It was hard for me not to laugh as Andre slowly backed away, flipping them off as he went. I laughed a little as he came closer to us.

“Thanks, Andre,” I said.

“No problem. Does anyone know how we get out of here?” he asked.

“We have to find Cate; I saw her briefly earlier but I haven’t been able to find her since,” I admitted.

“If you found her once, you can find her again,” Jordan said.

“Not unless I find you.”

In an instant, my mom’s dining room turned into Cate’s dorm, complete with green accents and comfortable furniture. She sat on her bed, eyes bloodshot and downturned. Marie was the first to approach her and Jordan and I trailed behind her.

“Cate, I’m so glad we found you,” Marie said.

“You have to wake up,” Jordan added.

Cate shook her head. “I don’t want to. You all can wake up but I’m going to stay here.”

Marie frowned. “You’re going to die? But, there’s so much we can do once we’re out of here.”

“Yeah, we can expose what’s going on at the school but we need your help,” Jordan insisted.

No matter what anyone said, Cate remained unresponsive. Both Jordan and Marie tried to reason with her while Andre snapped at her for everything that happened. All I could do was watch and wonder if her behavior made sense. In a way, her entire world fell apart and she’d exposed everything in all of us. She must feel alone but what did she think would happen?

How could she incense me and make me feel sorry for her at the same time?

Finally, I stepped over to her and bent down so that we were eye to eye. “Despite all the psychological torment I experienced in here, all I can think about is what else you haven’t told us.” I swallowed. “Because I have a really bad feeling that if Shetty used you like this, she would use me too.”

“No, Y/N, Indira wouldn’t do that.”

“She’s been in your head since you were a kid, Cate, it would make sense that she would go after Y/N too and you wouldn’t notice it,” Jordan pointed out.

Cate hesitated and then looked at her gloved hands. “This is all my fault.”

“You can make it right but not if you stay in here,” Marie said.

I didn’t know how much time had passed as Cate mulled over her options. All I knew was as she was deciding, my heart continued pounding in my ears as the lightning cracked above our heads. My hands shook as the cracking got louder and louder.

Then, it stopped.

[sugaflake]

Poison | myg [m]

One.

Summary: A dark stranger with an even darker secret crosses your path. 

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader 

Word count: 4312 

A/N: The biggest thank you has to go my best friend, @jeonsjiddies​ for always encouraging and pushing me to write. This has been the first fic I’ve actually put out and posted out of the countless ideas I’ve rambled off to her and stored away. Her fic Toxic is ultimately what sparked this idea - please go read it, it’s amazing. She’s my forever beta reader and editor, and I can’t thank her enough <3

Warnings: swearing, alcohol use, degradation, fingering, handjob, exhibitionism, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, cream pie, piercings (male genatalia), porn with *some* plot, dirty talk, dom!yoongi, rough sex

“You need to actually get out and meet some new people. You need to get out of this musty-ass apartment.” Your best friend since childhood, Morgan, and the biggest pain in your ass right now threw open the curtains in your bedroom, allowing some natural light to stream in. “And when was the last time you showered?”

“No, I don’t want to,” you whined as you threw yourself back against the pillows, pulling the covers over your face, “I’m perfectly fine in my musty-ass apartment with my pain in the ass friend who just let herself in, rude by the way, and I showered yesterday, not that it’s of any concern of yours.” 

Morgan ripped the covers from the bed and off of your face. 

“You never do, not anymore. Not since your breakup.”

You shot her a glare. You wanted to say something, you opened your mouth to, but quickly closed it before pulling your knees to your chest and buried your head there. You didn’t want to look at how depressing or destroyed your room looked. No longer did it share memories of you and your boyfriend. No longer did it have any warmth or love. All it harbored now was loss, angst, ripped pictures and T-shirts, and lost echoes of remembrance. You felt the bed shift as Morgan took a seat beside you, pulling you into a hug. “Y/N, I know your breakup with Minho has been really hard on you.”

“Yeah, easy for you to say. Jimin would never cheat on you.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” You looked up at her, eyes beginning to fill with tears. 

“The point is, you need to try and put it behind you. I know it’s hard. It’s not going to be easy, but you’ve got to try.” 

“I don’t want to. I’ll just die alone and lonely. I’ll never find someone or be like you and Jimin.”

“You’re right,” she said with a little laugh, “you won’t be like me and Jimin. You’ll be like you and whoever you find. You’re you and I’m me. Besides, you like all that weird kinky shit, you need someone who can satiate that weird,” she waved her hands in your general direction, trying to find the right words, “whatever it is you’ve got going on in that funky-ass brain of yours.” 

You both laughed.

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” she said as she got up and headed to the closet, throwing the doors open.

“I suppose.” You watched your best friend rifle through your closet looking for the skimpiest thing possible to wear. “So where exactly are you wanting to drag me off to?”

“There’s this new club that’s downtown! It’s apparently really exclusive and it’s really hard to get into. Jimin knows the owner, so he managed to get us in!”

“Of course he does and of course he did.”

Jimin was right, this new club wasn’t like any of the others you’d been to. It definitely was more high class than any of the ones you’d ever visited. The name, Venom, seemed to clash with the vibe the club was trying to go for, but was likely just right for the seedy underbelly type of people that would frequent. 

You leaned into the large cushions of the booth you’d been thrown into by Morgan and Jimin, fruity drink in hand. You sighed as you watched the two blissfully and drunkenly grind each other senseless on the dance floor, not a care in the world. You pulled your phone from your clutch and went straight to Minho’s Instagram page. Your heart sank as you scrolled through the images of him looking happy, arm looped around another girl’s waist. The girl he’d been cheating on you with. The girl you stupidly believed was “just a friend”. There was a part of you that wanted to just curl up in a ball and cry. But there was also a part of you that wanted to set his house on fire with him and that little bitch inside of it.

Groaning, you downed your drink, about ready to wave the waiter down for another one. As much as you didn’t want to really be at the club, at least Jimin managed to get you guys in the VIP section with unlimited drinks you didn’t have to pay for. If you were going to be forced to be here watching your best friend and her boyfriend be gross and not think about your stupid ex and his stupid bitch, you weren’t going to be sober. 

Yoongi leaned against the bar, swirling his whiskey in his glass, eyes scanning the room. He didn’t see what the big deal about this club was. It seemed like every other club he’d ever been to. Bored assholes with too much money bribing their way in, drugs on their lips and in their veins, cocks hard for drunk girls who can barely stand up. 

He watched as couples humped each other drunkenly, stumbled across the floor, and made their way to private rooms. It was all typical behavior.

Except for one. 

One girl caught his attention. One girl with curls falling down her bare shoulders. A girl sitting by herself looking as though she were absolutely miserable and waiting for the ground to swallow her whole. 

Yoongi downed his whiskey and motioned for another one before he slowly walked a little closer, tilting his head to the side, watching the girl scroll through her phone. 

“Stupid fucking piece of shit,” she seethed, continuing to scroll, “she’s not that pretty… I mean I guess she is, but whatever. I hope you’re fucking happy, you douchebag and little bitch. I could just fucking… ngghh!” 

She threw her phone back in her bag, chugging the pink drink the waiter had just given her. A smirk crept across Yoongi’s lips. ‘Now she seems like she could be some fucking fun.’

Dark eyes continued to watch the girl as she sat alone. His eyes traced over the small tattoos that littered her shoulders, He continued to wait a little while longer to see if anyone would join her. He could tell she hadn’t come alone, having spotted another purse. After several minutes of no one joining her, Yoongi decided to take this opportunity to make a move. 

Your eyes scanned the dance floor, having totally lost your friends somewhere in the haze of lights, fog, and music. Your head started to feel a little fuzzy after the last watermelon margarita you deep throated in negative three seconds. So far the night was a bust. Your friends had abandoned you to be horny teenagers, which you couldn’t blame them (even though you wanted to). You’d wasted a clean pair of clothes and a shower. You honestly were ready to call it quits and crawl back into your bed in your musty-ass apartment. 

Just as you were resigning yourself to gather your shit and go - a hot, scratch that, a very hot tattooed man with piercings, dark hair and dark eyes slid into the booth beside you. “I think you might be at the wrong table.”

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. His hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, making you shiver. “I saw you from over at the bar. You looked bored.” 

“I got ditched by horny love birds,” you rolled your eyes with a withering smile. 

“We love that.”

“No we don’t,” you laughed as you tucked some hair behind your ear. 

The man with dark hair leaned close to your ear, his dark hair falling in his eyes, “why don’t we ditch your horny love birds and make our own fun?” 

He wrapped his arm around the back of the booth, ringed fingers lightly touching the skin of your shoulders.  The sultriness of his voice and the heat of his touch caused you to shiver once more. And that wasn’t the only thing beginning to shiver. You cleared your throat and crossed one leg over the other. “And what exactly did you have in mind?” 

A smirk crept across his lips, exposing his gums. He reached his other hand over and began slowly drifting lazy figure eights with his fingers up your bare leg, slowly working his way from up your knee to your thigh. Your cheeks began to feel warm, and it wasn’t too long after a waiter came by and dropped off six shot glasses of varying colors, filled to the brim. He leaned in close again, planting his lips by your ear, “I’m sure you’re a smart enough kitten to figure that out,” he cooed, licking his lips. 

The tip of his tongue grazed the curve of your ear and you leaned into him with another shiver, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to keep the moan that threatened to escape. He was warm and fuck did he smell good. You cleared your throat once more and reached out and touched one of the shot glasses, trying to focus on anything besides the growing heat between your legs.

Had it really been that long since you’d had any physical touch since your breakup? You’d tried to recall, not even remembering you having the willpower to please yourself. ‘Depressing.’

The dark haired stranger reached his long tatted arm out and pointed at the shots. “Three for you, three for me.” 

Your eyes looked at the varying colors of the glasses. You weren’t always a fan of shots. You always managed to pick the nastiest, most bitter ones. 

“What are they?” 

“This one’s Strawberry Starburst,” okay, sounds fruity, you didn’t mind the sound of that, “this one’s Buttery Nipple,” it had a thick layer of cream on top, surely it was good, “and this one’s a Wet Pussy.” 

Your eyes widened, flicking up to meet his. He looked down at you hungrily, dark hair covering his face, wicked grin creeping across his lips. That was all it took for your core to tighten. 

“So what do you say, kitten? Have some shots and some fun with me.” 

You stared at him for a long moment, the sounds of the club fading away briefly. This wasn’t the type of girl you normally were. You liked to build and take things at a decent pace. But he - whoever the hell he was - swooped in like a raven in the night and knocked that wall down. Jesus Christ on roller skates he was hot as hell. And it had been so long. 

Fuck it. 

“So ho-“

“Yes,” you cut him off before he could finish. Fuck it. You wanted this. You needed this. Maybe it would help you get out of your little funk and you could go back to living a normal life. 

“Well all right, then.” The dark haired stranger pulled the first pink shot glass towards the both of you. He wrapped his veiny hand around the small glass and slightly lifted it from the table, waiting for you to do the same. Your heart pounded in your chest, as you took the same shot in hand. 

“Bottoms up,” he said, bringing the glass to his lips. 

You had no idea just how literal that term would become. 

The fruity alcohol sent a warm heat down your throat as you kicked back the first shot. It was good, better than expected. Without much prompting, you grabbed the second glass and waited for the stranger to do the same. 

“Eager little one, aren’t you?” 

You clenched your legs together a little tighter, your cheeks heating once more. You both had your shots in hand, each tossing them back like the first. The second shot tasted even better than the first, and a wobbly heat began to come over you, settling in your legs. 

You looked up at the stranger, sweat damp curls pinning to your neck. “You seem more eager than me, plying me with drinks.” 

You could tell you were slurring ever so slightly, the words leaving your lips at a slow pace. You could handle your alcohol somewhat decently, but the addition of three strong shots one right after another would be the tipping point.

A sultry, deep growl washed over you as the stranger slightly traced his tongue along the shell of your ear, “don’t start something you know you can’t finish, kitten.” He ever so lightly grazed his lips against your neck, only causing the pesky throbbing between your legs to strengthen. 

He pulled the third and final shot glass towards you. He wrapped his large calloused fingers around yours and brought the purple drink to your lips. “This kitten,” he cooed, pressing his lips to your neck once more, “this is how I’m going to leave you.” 

FUCK. 

He ran the sticky rim of the glass against your bottom lip with one hand, while the other slowly snaked its way to just beneath the hem of your skirt. Your breath hitched, catching in your throat. Some of the drink dribbled down your chin and chest. “Such a messy little girl you are,” he chided with a smirk. He moved his hand from the hem of your skirt to wipe the alcohol from your chest before popping his fingers in his mouth, “mmm, sweet.”

“Mmnf…” you whined as you clenched your shaking legs as close as they could get, rubbing them together to get some mild semblance of relief. Who the fuck was this guy, and what the fuck had he done to you in such a short amount of time? You clenched your free hand into a fist, nails digging into the soft flesh of your palm. Your chest rose heavily as you took a ragged breath. It took all the self restraint you had from shoving his hand between your legs right then and there.

Fuck it. 

You grabbed his hand and pulled it back towards the direction of your skirt, pushing it beneath the fabric and slowly towards your now dripping core. Your eyes desperately searched his begging for his touch. You were sitting in the middle of a busy nightclub with a random stranger all but tipsy on however many drinks you’d had previously, two shots and one more to go with his hand you’d shoved up your skirt, begging for him to finger you and you absolutely didn’t fucking care. Heat and hunger radiated through your body as you looked down at the strained but clearly thickly tented erection growing beneath the tight black jeans. 

The dark headed stranger swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, that damned sexy smirk appearing once more as he lightly ran his middle finger up the once dry lace. “You really are a messy little girl, aren’t you?” He pulled his hand away once more, the action extracting a mewling whine you hated yourself for making. He licked the wetness from his finger, “I’m not sure what’s sweeter, the drink or you.”

You squirmed beneath him, feeling like you might explode at this point if you don’t get something - anything. For the briefest of moments, your ex came to mind. Not once in the four years of your relationship had he managed to reduce you to a whimpering withering mess without even touching you like this random stranger had.

“Please…” you whined, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, your nose falling into the crook of his neck. The smell of him absolutely intoxicated you. The faint smell of cigarettes lingered on his breath and clothes mixed with a cologne that had a biting freshness and some kind of animal sensuality that you were finding very hard to resist. Morgan always said you were gross for liking the smell of cigarettes, but you didn’t care. You loved it. You breathed deep, dying to sink your teeth into the vein that throbbed. 

A deep, throaty laugh escaped the stranger as he lifted your chin with his finger. He leaned in close, eyes level with yours. Your pupils were blown wide, chest heaving, legs practically wide open for the entire club to see. “Good girls finish their drinks first.”

In the haze, you’d all but forgotten the last shot that left sticky remnants on your lips and down your chest. You nodded like the good girl you were and bit your bottom lip. You looked at the glass that he still held. The purple liquid taunted you, your head already dizzy. Honestly thinking you wouldn’t have the strength to hold the glass, you stupidly parted your lips, eyes stuck on his. 

“Mm, yes, that’s a really good little girl.” He pressed the glass to your lips and tipped it back, pouring the sweet liquid down your throat. You leaned your head back some to swallow, eyes never leaving him. He curled his lips into a wicked snarl exposing his teeth and gums that left a devastating pang to your already tightly wound core. He picked up his shot and knocked it back with ease, tossing the glass on the table. 

His lips enveloped yours, tongue fiercely pushing its way in. The taste of alcohol washed over you as you sucked on his tongue desperately, whining into his mouth. Without warning, he slipped his hand beneath your skirt, past the ruined panties and straight into your soaking heat. You gasped in his mouth from the sudden touch, but definitely wasn’t prepared for the feel of two very strong fingers pushing their way in. He gagged you with his tongue, pumping his calloused fingers in and out with a harshness you weren’t used to but desperately craved. 

Your body shook as you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you, blocking you further from any prying eyes. But at this point, you honestly didn’t care. This stranger could splay you out for all to see and you’d be perfectly fine with it. 

He pulled away from your mouth, a string of saliva pulling between the two of you, “you like this, don’t you, kitten? You like that I can get you off and so wet with all these people watching. You like the fact that I got you off and didn’t even touch you, you little slut.”

Your whine was a little louder this time, your entire body shaking. You planted your face into his neck again, fingers making a mad grab for the arms of his tank top. 

He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. 

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes…”

“Yes what?”

“Sir… Yes sir!” you croaked as you pulled your hands from his top, trying to cover your embarrassment with your arms. 

“Nah.” With his free hand, he pulled your hands from your face and over your head, “I know you like this, you little exhibitionist. I know you like the idea of me fingering you into submission right here in this booth.”

You hated the fact that he was right. You hated the fact that this was turning you on in a major way. What sort of witchcraft had this stranger performed on you to make you such a whimpering little simp? You were never like this with Minho or any other boyfriends for that matter. This was never something you’d imagine ever doing. But right now, there was a dark excitement that filled you, and you absolutely were living for it. 

A few more rough pumps and you were practically screaming, shaking, convulsing almost, hips bucking into his hand and riding the wave of white hot euphoria that washed over you. The only saving grace being the loud music cutting the two of you off from the rest of the club. 

You tried to steady your breathing as you shifted in your seat, cum dripping from your soaking cunt and ruined panties. You looked at the abandoned glasses littered on the table many toppled over from your greedy fit of needing to be touched. Your eyes turned back to face the dark haired stranger. He smirked, popping the fingers that were just inside of you in his mouth and sucking on them. Yet another whine escaped you while you watched him. You’d have assumed you’d be spent at this point, but some kind of hunger had been awakened in you, and you needed more. Shaky hands pawed at him as he pulled his fingers from his mouth.

“What?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side. Knowing full well what you wanted and needed. You bit your bottom lip and glanced down at his growing erection that was just dying to be released. You yourself were dying to know what else was in store for you. One of your hands slid to the bulge and you lightly squeezed it, keeping your eyes on him for his reaction. The guttural moan that left him was all it took to invite you for another squeeze, this one a little rougher than the last. “Remember what I said, kitten. Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he growled as he bit the side of your neck. 

“I’ll be a good girl…”

That was all it took to yank you from the booth and harshly and quickly pull you towards the bathroom, your bag with your fucking phone and keys completely forgotten. The only thing on your mind was where he was leading you. You watched as one guy came out of the single use bathroom and shoved the other guy who had been waiting out of the way. “Move.” 

You tried to not make eye contact with him as the stranger pulled you into the bathroom and locked the door behind you. His mouth immediately crashed into yours, your back roughly being pushed against the door with a thud. 

Your hands scrambled, trying to make quick work of the belt that held his pants tightly around his toned waist. He pulled away from you just enough to unbutton and unzip his jeans, sliding them and the dark gray boxer briefs partially down his thighs. His cock sprang up against his stomach, precum seeping from the swollen head. It was soft and pale like him, but long, thick, and veiny. The one thing you hadn’t expected was that it was pierced. Three horizontal bars consisting of a frenum ladder. Your mouth dropped open for a second. That would be a new experience. 

“Like what you see?” Your only answer was a nod before your hand immediately found purchase around the trunk of his cock, dragging your hand up and down, using the friction to your advantage as more precum dribbled down the sides. “Ff-fuck,” he growled, one of his hands twining through your curls. 

Core instantly throbbing, you pumped your hand several more times before moving your hand and all too gently tracing your finger down the length of his fully erect cock. It was your turn to smirk this time, but you were stupid for thinking you had the upper hand. You should’ve known better. 

“Oh, no, no. Dirty little girls like you don’t get to be in charge.” Reaching his hand between your legs, the stranger ripped the lacy panties in half at the crotch with absolute ease. The fabric flapped uselessly by your thighs, cum dribbling from your cunt. You opened your mouth to say something but were cut off by his hands wrapping themselves under your ass cheeks and lifting you to just above his eye level. “Bad little girls have to be punished for thinking they’re too big for their britches… or lack thereof.” 

That wicked, wicked smirk plastered across his lips once more as he rammed his hard dick deep into your wet pussy, using the door at your back to his advantage. 

You yelped, grabbing onto his back for support, nails digging into his bare shoulders. With the music muffled from the bathroom, your squelching sounds were much easier to hear, and it would’ve almost embarrassed you were you not being thrown into a stupor. Your back rammed into the door as he pounded into you and your legs wrapped around his waist, one heel falling from your foot from the intensity.

“I-I nnff…!” You bit onto his shoulder, feeling yourself tighten around his cock. With each movement, you felt the bars effortlessly slide along the sides of your walls, making it very hard for you to last much longer. 

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled in your ear, “show daddy how good your little slut cunt can be…”

You shuttered as one last drag and pound of his cock was all it took to throw you over the edge, creaming down the length of him. He took your mouth in his and kissed you through his own wave, bucking against you as he shot his load into you. He pulled himself from you, leaving you a dripping, wet mess with your ass and pussy exposed to the open air. You whined as you the felt the balls of the piercings slide from you, leaving you empty. 

“What a pretty little mess you are,” he cocked his eyebrow, licking his lips as he lowered you back to your feet. You stumbled for a second or two as you tried to gather yourself and quickly put your dropped heel back on your bare foot. Your core ached with overstimulation, but was so desperately begging for more. The stranger tucked himself back into his boxers and jeans, pulling them back over his hips and buttoning himself back in. 

Like that, his conquest was over and he was about to turn on his heel and leave, but you reached your hand out and grabbed his, pulling him back. “Wait…” His dark eyes looked your face over as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes even in your heels. “Take me with you.” 

[kakujis]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓… ☽

baji vers | geto vers

synopsis: unbeknownst to you, the grave you visit everyday has been empty for years. keisuke is finally ready to come see you again.

warnings: gn!reader, vampire!baji, character death, devotion, grief and dealing with it, slightly angsty but also fluffy, pet names (baby, kitten), swearing, a little selfship coded, NOT PROOFREAD!, SFW feel free to interact but pls remember i'm an 18+ blog!

ft: vampire!baji x reader, 2.4k

network: @enchantedforest-network

an: here's baji's version!! actually, this one was supposed to come AFTER suguru's but... erm... hehe. it also was supposed to be spookier, but i am nothing but a big ole softy for my loverboy. ): happy halloween! i wanted to post it on his birfday, but i think this is more fitting! could've been longer but i just wanted to get something out LOL. thanks to nie for letting me ramble about this lil fic!!

life is such a finicky thing. and sometimes, the time ticks by too slowly for your liking until it’s suddenly too fast, too short, too soon.

you’ve been to this grave a hundred - no maybe thousands of times, over the years. and yet, like the snowfall, your tears slip down your cheeks, hugging the warmth of your body, til they fall onto the ground disappearing into the asphalt. 

chifuyu matsuno thinks one day, he’ll beat you to it. one day he’ll be the one who arrives first, turning around with a smile and holding a bag of peyoung yakisoba. it’ll be his eyes rimmed red with hands trembling so hard that he’s sure they’ll snap. but you are always here first, almost every day for the past god knows how many years. 

every aspect of the word “first”, is what keisuke baji had embodied. first division captain, first born son, and your first love. he was rowdy, rough, sometimes a little insensitive, but at the end of it all, he was loyal. he was yours. 

“if i’m yours, then you’re mine.” he grinned, toothy, vibrant and all encompassing. his hands held yours like they were the world, and maybe, in a sense, they were. but even the world cannot last forever, the stars themselves bursting at the seams when their time has come. 

“they’re so pretty.” you told him, leaning against his shoulder, pointing up with your index finger. “don’tcha think?” 

“they’re alright,” he mumbled, but he kept his eyes upward, staring at the same stars as you. “i'd rather look at you.” 

“you’re so fucking cheesy.” you laughed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

when stars die, they leave a beautiful supernova, an explosion of color across the galaxy, painting the universe in rich hues of color. but when baji died, you thought it was so fucking ugly. you remember throwing up the first night, your own shitty constellation within the porcelain of your toilet. 

then the world started to dim, like the world was dipped in muted shades when there used to be so much vibrance. the sun was no longer as bright and you no longer sought comfort under the moon, hiding away from even her blue light. 

if there is solace in one thing, it’s that baji was a really good liar. sure, he was different that day and sometimes had trouble looking at you, but there was nothing to suspect that he would decide to plunge in that knife and bleed out on the ground of that god forsaken junkyard. 

“i’m scared you’ll go away,” you told him one night, so desperately wishing now that you would’ve noticed the way he tensed ever so slightly. “like, one day, i’ll wake up and you’re not there anymore.” 

you remember how he leaned in, nose brushing against yours before pulling back slightly. “and where would i go that doesn’t have you in it?” he grinned, another bright fanged smile that eased every single worry out of your brain. and you decided in that moment, that keisuke was always going to be the one that held your heart in his hands. 

“marry me one day.” you replied and he laughed, before holding up his pinky to yours. “good. saying no wasn’t an option.” 

“figured.” 

but today is not a day to be caught in memories as the sun plummets below the horizon, as the sky shifts from a pretty magenta pink to inky black. feet bouncing off the pavement, you scurry over to his grave. you chastise yourself for being late today of all days, it was his birthday. 

“sorry!” you call out as you finally make it, hands on your knees as you suck precious air back into your lungs. “sorry i’m late, kei.” 

you do the usual of pouring water onto the tombstone, before you light a candle and spread the blanket beneath you, sitting cross-legged as you pull out the contents of your bag. “i got a little something extra today,” you say, eagerly pulling out the sealed little slice of cake you got at the bakery. “okay… so it looks a little fucked, but don’t mind that.” you giggle, before sighing.

“if you were here… what would you say?” you mumble to yourself, before putting on your best keisuke voice. “hah? it’s still edible isn’t it?... or something.” you nod as if in response to him, before tearing it open and setting it down. “chifuyu saw you earlier right? did he bring you something good? oh! and, i was looking at some of the cats at the pet shop earlier, they’re no peke j but, they’re still cute, y’know?” 

you always do this. you ramble and ramble, relaying your day to him as if he’s listening intently to you. sometimes, you’ll imagine when the two of you sat in his room, his lips quirked up into a smile as he nodded and listened to you. 

“the cake is good!” you exclaim, taking a bite. it’s fluffy, creamy, and sweet, it almost masks the saltiness of your tears that seep past your lips, onto your tongue and settle on your buds. 

almost.

“fuck- sorry. sorry for crying.” you use one hand to wipe away at your tears, the other holding onto your convenient plastic fork. it’s harder to breathe now, sobs wracking your body as your mind floods with “what ifs” once again. what if you had asked him to stay with you that day? what if you tried harder? what if you had noticed something was wrong sooner? could you have done anything? and what if-

lost in your thoughts you almost miss the familiar drawl that used to set your heart and soul on fire. “still a crybaby, eh?” 

you freeze, the fall breeze caressing your cheek as you sniffle and ever so slowly, turn. you must have been hearing things, you think, as there’s nothing there but the other stone graves and the leaves on the wind. 

“maybe i am losing my fucking mind...” you mutter, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, “i should look into therapy.” 

you shake your head, a little spooked. it’s getting later by the moment, the only light nearby being the candle, a warm-orange flame surrounded by night. you lean over to blow it out, but stop, feeling that you should stay a bit longer. not only are you late, but it’s keisuke’s day, it wouldn’t be right to leave so soon. you frown, before settling back in place. 

“anyways, what was i saying?” you hum, taking another scoop of your dessert. “something-“

“something about the new cats at chifuyu’s shop right?” that familiar voice sounds again, closer this time, tickling the shell of your ear. 

you immediately jerk around and almost pass out at what you see. crouched down and smiling, that familiar wolfy grin is keisuke, looking just like you remembered. from the way his long, inky hair frames his face to the vivid carmine of his eyes, it’s keisuke. 

“hey, continue the story baby, i was listening.” he gestures to the cake on your fork, slipping off the utensil from the shakiness of your hands. “lemme have a bite?” 

you’re snapped from your stupor when he finally touches you, cold fingers lightly guiding your hand upward towards his mouth. you immediately scramble back, the cake falling onto the blanket below. 

“kitten,” he says, frowning at the mess, “y’know i hate wasting food.” the pet name almost sends you into a spiral, the way it falls off his tongue so easily, just like he always used to say it, almost like it was your name at times. 

“you’re not real.” you whisper, shaking your head slightly, the words trapped behind the door of your brain unleashing in that moment. “i’m hallucinating. i have to be.” 

he inches towards you as you continue to crawl back, back hitting the cold gray stone. keisuke leans in, snuffing out the candle between his fingers first before redirecting his attention to you. he’s so close you’re sure he can feel your breath, but the odd thing is, you can’t feel his.

“if i wasn’t real…” he starts, inching in so close your noses just barely touch, just a hair widths away, “could i do this?” he kisses you then, just barely holding back his deep fervent need to snatch you up and take you home. wherever that was. 

it’s strange, baji’s cold, nearly ice, and yet you feel the familiar rush of warmth through your veins that once bloomed so deeply in your heart, that everything suddenly does feel real. the two of you stay like that for a few moments and when he pulls away you lean in again, snatching him by the collar to press another kiss to the lips that you missed so much. 

baji’s wolfish grin plays on his face in between the kisses you continue to plant against his lips and his skin, alternating between his cheeks and jawline. “yeah, yeah, i missed you too, you big crybaby.” he laughs, cupping your face to swipe at the tears that fall freely once again. 

you whine when he forces you to pull off, bringing your hands up to his, almost as if you’re sure he’ll run off again and be gone by morning. “you’re really keisuke? …this isn’t a joke?” you shake your head as you ask, hiccuping and trying your best to heave in gulps of air. 

“yeah, it’s me.” he answers, the crinkle of his eyes never leaving. 

but you just don’t get it. how is baji here and not well, six-feet under? almost as if he can read your mind he speaks, “i’m not really sure how it happened either.” he starts, releasing you and staring down at his palms, opening and closing them, almost as if he’s also in a daze. “i shouldn’t be here, i know that. i made sure i wouldn’t and yet, i woke up not too long after that day.” he lifts his shirt up and you wince in anticipation, but there’s nothing where the old stab wound should be, like it never happened. 

hesitantly, you place your hand flat against the area, before your fingertips trace the outline where it should be. you exhale deeply before speaking again, “how come you only showed up now?” 

he gives you a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck, as the hem of his shirt falls back into place. “well… i had to sort of figure things out. dunno how well received i would’ve been if i just showed up after my own funeral.” he jokes, but you glare at him. 

“do you have any idea at all how badly that fucked me up?” you ask, remembering the countless nights you spent staring up at your bedroom walls so utterly exhausted from crying or the days you spend in a haze, trying your best to get through the day. you won’t lie, you’ve been so angry since that day. endlessly lonely, endlessly empty, and just when you thought you’d be able to get over it, he shows up like it wasn’t that big of a deal. 

“well, i watched you a lot.” he admits, gazing around the cemetery. “you come here every single day, you cry every single time, even when you say you’re not going to. you’ve cursed me out in death more times than i can count and i think you’ve tried every single type of peyoung soba. you, chifuyu, and kazutora have only come here together a handful of times and everytime one of you ends up drunk crying.” he snorts, before continuing, “you sleep with my hair ties under your pillow and almost had the balls to ask my mom for my toman jacket, multiple times.she would’ve said yeah, by the way. every evening you say goodnight to me and that you love me.” 

he grins when you sit there, mouth agape, and asks, “did i miss anythin’?” 

you shake your head, “but what now? i still don’t get why you came here today?” 

he shrugs, “i’ve got a question for ya.” but his expression is serious now, the shift in his features making you nervously fidget with your hands. but before you can look away, he tilts your head towards him, the other hand intertwining with yours, locking you in place. “you still wanna be with me forever?” 

your heart pounds in your chest, almost alarmingly so, as you gaze at him with lidded eyes while your voice is light, fluttering back up to him and relaying the answer he’s been waiting to hear. “of course, keisuke.”

“and you’d do anything? …let me do anything?” he questions further, squeezing when you nod your head. 

you’d let me turn you?

and you’re aware now, what it is he’s asking. and maybe, you think it’s because you centered so much of you life around him, that leaving it behind doesn’t sound too bad. if you were the clouds, then baji was the sky, always trying to stay in that space so intrinsically bound to one another that only death could have separated you. 

he never said the word, but he didn’t really need to. what was the one thing that could have escaped death like this?  what else was he but a vampire? 

“okay,” he sighs, “if you’re sure.”

“more than ever.” you state. 

keisuke is fast, picking you up and into his arms. naturally, you wrap yours around his neck, a part of you still thinking that this must be a dream. 

“well, there’s no way we’re gonna do it in some freakin’ cemetery.” he jokes and you giggle. if his heart could beat, he’s sure it’d flutter just as fast as yours. 

“hey are you gonna turn chifuyu?” you ask, blinking up at him, “or tora?” 

“you think they’d wanna hang out with us? for eternity?” he asks, picking up the pace as he walks.

“hmm, maybe you’re right. besides, takemichi’s gonna miss them too much right?” you continue, the breeze kissing your now dried cheeks. 

“don’t forget mikey.” he adds, before continuing, “well, it’s not like we can’t visit sometime.” 

you nod, placing your head on his shoulder, “not too soon though, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” 

he smiles at you as he answers, “don’t worry. we’ve got all the time in the world.” 

as the two of you leave, you peek back towards the lights of the city, becoming smaller and smaller with each step. and you wonder how upset chifuyu’ll be tomorrow when he finds your half-eaten cake, spread out on an already forgotten blanket.