#it’s been a very stupid day and everything is pointless

[fanfoolishness]

When you wake up horny but your spouse has to go to work to launch a space rocket instead of the sexy sort, so you are le sad

Then you realize you’re just in a foul mood regardless and try to distract yourself with art

(Newsflash: it does not work and you hate everything, and sure now you have more prints but you hate all of them)

Then you think maybe you’ll distract yourself with things that need the internet, only to realize your WiFi is utterly completely dead and has been all day

So you try to reset what you think are the router(s)??? (Why does this always happen when husband, who does this stuff, is gone) Except now not only is your network not working but it is just Gone and no longer even discoverable by your devices (now you have a creeping sense of dread you have created much more work for husband)

Then you remember husband also has the home lights all set to work with WiFi

And it was a 14 hour rocket launch shift so now it’s your bedtime and he’s still not here, and you can’t turn off the lights with your phone like normal, but if you turn them off manually, he won’t be able to see anything when he comes home, so you are going to bed with half the lights on so he won’t trip and die when he gets home at 2 in the morning

And you usually fall asleep to streaming reruns, but remember: no internet, so it’s just silence and you aren’t sleepy at all even though you have to be up in the morning

And basically everything is very stupid and you hate everything and everything is the worst.

[nomairuins]

bedtime nowww probably ummm today qas not what i wanted it 2 be but its fine. i dont feel negative just a very very very numb day which is almost worse. but only almost 🙏

[asterdeer]

misophonia kicking my ass today breaking benjamin save me. breaking benjamin. save me breaking benjamin

[filmologetica]

BEHAVIOR — dean winchester

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader.

the one where: you and dean are trying your hardest to have sex but everyone seems to be against it.

warnings: +18. kind of smutty, language, fingering, blue balls king. english is not my first language and it’s 2am here so it might have some incorrect english i plan on checking later.

a/n: this was… something. i’m thinking about a part 2, let me know if you want it <3.

Dean didn’t know if anyone had ever died from blue balls, but if not, he could easily be the first.

Two weeks. It has been two weeks now that Dean and his girlfriend were trying to get some alone time, but it seemed impossible. Every time someone had something they forgot in the room they were heavily making out in and took too long to head out, killing the mood completely, or something urgent to talk to them, or something that needed to be done. Every damn time. And when they finally had time at night they were exhausted, completely worn out.

The tension was growing between them and they just couldn’t help it. They fought for every stupid reason, everything seeing to be extremely frustrating.

“Did you get the milk I asked you to yesterday?” Y/N’s voice was low. She was tired, frustrated and horny. More than that, she was fucking angry with the life she chose. Walking back to back killing monsters was fucking exhausting. She needed a break.

Everyday something new was getting on her nerves. Ghosts, demons, angels and even Lucifer himself. Jesus Christ, she had no more patience for anything.

“Shit, I forgot. Sorry, babe.” Dean was just as exhausted as her, but he was used to this life. What he was not used to was spending fourteen long days with zero sex.

Zero intimacy. Not even a lazy handjob. Of course he could take care of himself but once he was in a relationship - or sort of - he needed to be deep in the woman he craved. And oh, boy, he was craving her. Everything was enough to make his dick wake up and twitch inside his pants.

Every.

Single.

Thing

made him end up with a boner that he wished you would take care of but there was always something in the way.

Fourteen days. And counting.

“Fucking hell, Dean. Is it too much to ask for you to pay attention to the things I tell you?” You snapped, slamming your mug to the counter.

Sam looked up, rolling his eyes knowing very well you two were about to start another pointless argument. Dean wasn’t exactly helping his situation either, as he raised his voice. “If I pay attention to every single thing you talk about every day, there goes my whole day. You never shut up.”

“I’m really sorry. I forgot the only woman you’re capable of listening to are the stupid whores you fuck at every bar we step into.”

“Yeah, at least I can fuck them.”

“Fuck you, Dean.” Your mug was now forgotten in the counter as you marched out of the kitchen, your face red with anger. You knew Dean didn’t mean it. It has been like this for days now, just pointless arguments about nothing.

“Dude, just- Go talk to her.” It was almost like Sam was stuck in a loop all over again. That’s how he felt. He had now lost count of how many times he had said this exact same thing, the exact same way. “I’ll go buy the fucking milk.”

Sam had no idea what was happening. Your relationship with Dean was a secret and that was a deal that you both made until you figured out what it was. Of course sleeping together every night wasn’t exactly nothing but you agreed in taking things slow.

Dean entered your room without even knocking, closing the door behind him with a kick. “I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” He sighed, letting his body fall in your bed. “I don’t want to keep fighting, I’m sorry. You know I listen to you, it’s just- It’s been too much.”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry about what I said. I just-” Dean looked at her, knowing exactly what she would say. “I miss you.”

“Yeah?” Tracing an invisible line at her exposed leg, Dean was taking his time feeling how soft her skin was.

“Yeah.”

“Mhmm.” His hand was now not so innocent, getting to her thighs still gently. The touch enough to make her shiver. “What are you missing?”

Opening her legs, Y/N exposed her delicate lingerie. It was red, and Dean could feel his mouth water with the sight. Her tiny lace panties were now making him rock hard. He could see your pussy clearly and he was ready to show you how much he missed it. “I miss you right here.” Your hands entered the fabric, touching your clit gently.

“God, I love it when you act like a cock slut.” Lifting your dress a little more, Dean was taking up the view. You never needed much to make him hard, but this was a whole different level. It was like he was drunk on your smell.

“I love it when you fuck me with your fingers.” You said and Dean now moved the fabric to the side, to get a clearer view, chewing on his bottom lip. “It feels so good when you ease me up with one finger because I’m so fucking tight for you…”

And just to make Dean lose his mind, you add one finger to your drabbling pussy. It took to much of him to not roll his eyes and come undone without even taking off his pants. “And when you add another one… God, feels so good, baby.” One more finger in, another growl from Dean out.

“I’m going to fuck you good. Make you remember what it feels like when I’m filling you up.” With your most innocent face you nodded, more like begging Dean to fuck you.

When you felt his lips on yours in an urgent kiss, it felt like you were dreaming. His tongue sliding into your mouth roughly while you ran your fingers through his hair desperately. Now, he was on top of you and you could feel his bulge.

You could feel his cock while his hips trusted into you trying to make him feel better even with his clothes still on. When your hand found his boner, using enough pressure on it, Dean moaned into your lips. “Fuck. I need to be inside you.”

And just when his hands found his belt, a knock was heard on the door. “No!” You cried.

Dean sighed, absolutely frustrated and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. “We can pretend there’s no one here. We put a pillow on your face and you make no sounds while I fuck you.”

You let out a quiet laugh, just as frustrated. “What if it’s important?”

“Y/N, this is important!” Dean was furious. Who wouldn’t be? He refused to add one more day to his blue balls count.

“Open up, guys!” Sam said loudly on the other side of the door.

“What the fuck does this guy want?” Dean got up while you adjusted your dress, trying your best to fix your hair quickly. “Yeah, Sam?”

As Dean opened the door, his face was definitely not friendly but it didn’t scare Sam, who entered the room and sat on the bed.

The bed you thought you were having sex seconds before. “We need to talk about your behavior.” He says.

“My what?” You ask and Dean rolls his eyes, thinking about hitting his head on the door a billion times to end his penalty.

“We’re gonna talk about what’s happening between you and Dean and solve this problem right now.”

“I don’t think that’s something you can fix, Sammy.” You wish you could punch him.

“Well, then I’m not leaving this room.”

And with that, Dean left to take a cold shower in his room after being cockblocked by Sam once again.

[inbarfink]

In general, I feel like Zim’s panic and paranoia are very important aspects of his character that sadly often get overlooked and underutilized in the fandom. I feel like some folks just kinda go ‘oh, well, Zim thinks he is the greatest and most fearsome Invader in the universe so obviously he is certain that he can beat every obstacle’ when… I mean, sometimes he is like this - but some of Zim’s most iconic moments are powered by his fear and anxieties about failure.

So many of Zim’s schemes are motivated by an assumption that Humans are a lot smarter and more observant than they actually are. 

Or even just scarier and more dangerous.

He probably would have conquered the planet in a day if he just directly pulled all of the technology he had at his disposal and marched his way publicly to President Land. But he is just so obsessed with the idea that the Enemy is basically constantly one second away from uncovering him that he just wastes his time on pointless ‘infiltration’ and ludicrously overcomplicated ideas of how to ‘subtly’ take over or weaken the Earth’s defenses via fast-food or the Skool Student Council or Dookie. 

I mean, that is basically Duty!GIR’s big complaint about Zim in ‘GIR Goes Crazy and Stuff’. His progress has been stupid, because he’s been far too Stupidly Subtle about information gathering and world conquest and information gathering for the purpose of world conquest. When literally just heading to the public library and sucking out people’s brains is actually incredibly effective and has no real consequences. 

‘Walk for Your Lives’ is another excellent example of how Zim’s extreme ego and extreme anxiety go together. Zim is driven entirely by a totally made-up arbitrary ticking clock revolving around the idea that the Tallests WILL call again soon and so he MUST get rid of the Time Explosion NOW.

But he’s overconfident in the sense that he is certain that the solution he comes up with is Actually Good and won’t just make everything worse even as literally everyone around tells him it would. 

Enter the Florpus’ plot kicks off with a very similar scenario. Zim just comes up with a Made-Up Deadline and a Made-Up Consequence for ‘forgetting Phase 2’ and just starts… stressing himself up with it. 

On one level I think this is like… also a weird result of his Ego. You know, the logic being that if any potential challenge is not 100% effortless for him, Irk’s most amazing and powerful Invader, then it must be a horrible and fearsome threat. If Zim actually fully admitted that Earth is the stupidest, easiest-to-conquer planet in the universe - he would have to admit that failing to conquer this planet of all planets makes him a huge-ass loser. So instead, Zim salvages his own pride by constantly overestimating the humans.

But I also think in general Zim has a lot of anxiety and nervous energy. Maybe just from all the insecurities and failures he’s trying to deny and ignore all the time? And he’s just channeling them into the only channels he can consciously acknowledge - worrying about his enemies. 

[deafsignifcantother]

my husband and I

♥ summary: alastor is an amazing husband, but the tone in the house starts to shift when you learn that he is the serial killer you feared. ♥ relationships: human alastor x deaf gender neutral reader ♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ warnings: big power dynamic issue, reactive abuse, murder, visualization of deafness and dependency, but they still have cute moments bc they're married and love each other ♥ a/n: A VERY SHAMELESS REPOST OF A YEARS OLD FIC THAT'S NOWHERE NEAR HAZBIN RELATED LMFAO

There are so many things running through your mind. You think about the smiles and how they always appear like a cocky smirk. Then, there's the way he laughs, even if it's a short chuckle, he bares his teeth. So many things could have alerted you to his danger. Are you stupid for not detecting it before?

When you think back, you are sure he had tried confessing his hobby (hobby, what a simplistic way to describe it) to you. He had made past comments about how he'd kill people, but you thought it was dramatics, and you had brushed it off.

He knows that you know now. The energy in the house had shifted—from both parties—and became hostile. The hospitality within your home had dissipated alongside the innocent eyes he would give you in the morning.

That night, before he undresses himself to slip into bed, he holds a threatening hand to your neck. He doesn't grab it or tighten his grip, but the implication is there. He signs with one hand,

"Without me, you have nothing, so don't you ever forget that, darling."

It's true. Your job, friends, the chance of a future being single, the idea of making money without him—it's all gone. It has been for a while. Your time in the house is all day, every day, and even if you wanted to leave, you had no car to drive. He keeps you here. It has kept you sane and safe up until now.

"I won't tell anyone." You sign with an empty facial expression. It feels pointless. With him, you feel like a walking corpse, somebody who is already dead.

His hand moves up to your cheek, where he pats you, tilting his head with a smile. "I know."

And after that, he stopped treating you differently. He returned to kissing your face every morning, leaving the house after cooking you breakfast, and doing all the husband-y things he was doing before. The days went on and on, and you were beginning to get used to the dial-back.

But you jump whenever he walks up behind you and places his hands on your hips. He has gotten quieter, sneakier. Is he planning something?

When you're alone in the house, you eye the phone, wondering if, in another life, you could pick it up, call someone, and leave the house without having to worry about what would happen. In a perfect reality, you could talk to the police about everything.

You can't even imagine Alastor in jail.

It would be your fault if anything happened to him. Would you be able to deal with that?

How could he even hurt someone? You try to imagine yourself doing it, standing in the forest and torturing someone.

It has been you and him for the last couple of years. He was all you needed and all you cared for. You didn't notice that he was stripping you of all your relations, your friends and family, stripping you of your independence and the things that made you human. He gave you enough in return. Your social life is spent with his coworkers while he interprets for you. You go to dinners, ones that his job hosted. You are always flashed as if you are a prized possession.

Maybe that's all you are.

You read his facial expressions even closer now. The furrow of his brow or the dropping of his eyelids always makes your whole body tighten. What will he do if he's mad at you? Will he hurt you?

You try to search in your memory: has he hurt you before? No, you realize. He hasn't. A sadistic twitch in his eye only appears in your romantic life. His hands have a consistent way of touching your body as if he is examining it.

You think about these things while you do the housework, while waiting for him to come home from work. Throughout everything: the fear, the sorrow, the guilt, you continue sticking by him. What else is there to do?

When he comes home from work, he puts his jacket around the shoulders of a chair, stepping close to you. You can feel his body—his warmth and his touch. He rolls up his sleeves and helps you with dinner without saying a thing. When you look up to him, he doesn't allow his eyes to look at you. A part of that makes your cheeks warm.

That night, he signs, "It's your turn."

You are too busy gazing into his eyes to realize he has taken his turn.

It was when you first moved in with him that you brought, in boxes, your board games. Whenever Alastor would bring company, he would force you to bring them out and be friendly as he played with them. Now, alone with you, he is being competitive. It's cute. And it's the Alastor you have known.

When you move your piece, he eyes it, tilting his head. Your breath stops. There it is again: he's examining you.

"What's work like?" You ask.

"Same as it has been."

You nod your head, glancing at his hands, trying to think of how many lives they must have taken. Does he shoot people? You can imagine that. The thought of him using his bare hands is beyond you; you've never seen him be violent like that. What about knives? His cooking - skilled, far off from clumsy… he may use knives.

He lifts his chin. His eyes ask the question: what are you thinking about?

There's a vacant space and a lack of words between you. You are chewing the inside of your mouth, grinding your teeth before you raise your hands.

"Do you use knives?"

He straightens his shoulders.

"When?"

"In the forest."

He smiles. The one that looks like a smirk.

"Yes."

You just nod, your cheeks warming. He's a killer. It's true; he admits it and doesn't shy away from the fact. But still, in your head, you can't seem to force yourself to be too worried about it. He hasn't hurt you, not unconsentually, and this thought taunts you like a loaded gun.

What do you have to be scared of?

A lot, you remind yourself. He's the danger: the stranger in your house that you need to be cautious of. Yet, ever since he had been revealed to you, he has done little to further the narrative of psycho-serial danger. He's still your husband. He's still the one you belong to.

That's why, when he comes home bloody, you shower with him before helping him bandage himself. You're the one who ruffles the towel through his hair and against his shoulders, catching the spare droplets. The two of you hardly even talk to each other as you press bandaids against his skin. You kiss each one.

Your lips touch the skin of his bicep, and then you peck upward, continuing to his neck, where you linger in the space between his cheek and his ear. His hand falls to your thigh, cupping the side of it, and he rubs the skin up and down. He doesn't move it from there, doing nothing salacious, not without your direct intention stated to him. It makes your heart race. At that moment, you forget about everything violent about him. But with those kisses, with the way his lips suck on your skin, you wonder if it is contagious. The violence, the wrath, and the war seeped into your skin like poison. You felt it corrupting you: the innocent front you had began to melt away, and suddenly, you were exposed.

Because when one of his victims enters through the backdoor: your home, your safety net, you do what you know Alastor would do if he made it in time. You grab a knife, hiding behind a wall, feeling their footsteps as they step closer. And when they round the corner, you strike them in the face with the back, knocking them down before holding the blade above your head.

You get a good look at their weak body, imagining your kitchen tiles as dirt, a leaf-covered ground, and the walls around you as arrays of trees.

You think about the times Alastor had held you behind him when people tried to talk to you. You think about the times he would protect you from the outside world, the ways he would drive himself insane to make sure you were safe.

He did so much for you, and what have you given him in return? A home filled with paranoia and unnecessary caution? It is unfair to him. You have been lashing out for nothing. So, you decide to gift him this: a new sense of ego—a pride that cannot be hidden, developed from a realization.

In this lifetime, you have one beam of hope: him. With those vows, you both swore to stick together. Through sickness and health, through life and death.

He is your husband; this is the house where you will spend the rest of your life.

When Alastor stands in front of the dead body, he places both hands on his hips, tapping his fingers before signing.

"Is the mess for me?"

You are still breathing heavily. He can see it in your eyes, the way they are wide and craved, the way the person's blood still stained your hair and the skin of your cheek. Your serenity is in the dark gloom yonder.

But you argue against him and his assumptions. When he asks if you are okay, you just smile and nod. "It feels good."

[bucketsofmonsters]

The Witch's Apprentice - Part 6

cw: demon summoning, prolonged isolation, size difference, body horror, forced transformation, self-inflicted injuries, more tags will be added as the story continues

male demon x afab reader

Word count: 3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7

He brought you back into your room. Where else would he bring you? Your soundproofed, locked room that you had no way out of. 

You weren’t any less stuck than you were before. 

That wasn’t going to stop you, couldn’t stop you. You needed to get out. You needed to see Eden. 

You knew any attempt to reach her was pointless. She couldn’t hear you. 

It didn’t stop your desperate attempt to get to her in any way possible. You pounded on the door, the noise of your fists against the thick wood echoing in your ears and never reaching hers. 

You're not entirely sure how long you pounded on that door. It was hard to focus on anything. You weren’t seeing the door, you were seeing Eden’s face and her saving you from those god-forsaken woods and then Lucien doubling over again, hearing how his words got frantic as he tried to warn you about something he just couldn’t say and you’d start hitting even harder. 

An earsplitting, pained scream sounded and it took a second to realize it came from you. You hadn’t meant to scream but what harm could it do? It wasn’t like anyone could hear you anyways. 

You kept pounding until massive, gentle hands wrapped around your wrists. 

You looked down to find Lucien holding your now bloodied hands. 

His grip was soft. You could have pulled away if you’d wanted to, kept on trying to fight your way through a solid block of wood. 

You let him stop you. 

As soon as he realized you were done he released your hands and with that you collapsed to the floor, letting your head fall against the door. 

“You tire yourself out yet?” Lucien asked, watching you from above.

You glared up at him as you sucked in air. 

“I need…” Your voice came out nasally and wet. “I need to understand. I need to see her.”

“This is a bad idea.” He sounded resigned, as if he knew nothing he said was going to matter. You had to do this. 

“Says the demon I talk to every day.”

“Don’t do that. Not now. Not after everything.”

“Sorry,” you said with a sniffle. “You weren’t a bad idea. I think summoning you might have been the only good idea I ever had.”

As you spoke you felt something being pushed under the door into your side. You looked down to see a plate of food. Your dinner. 

You shoved it back out. At least that was something Eden could see, somewhere productive your frustration could go. 

You heard a huff through the door and you knew she was projecting her voice through. “Fine, if you want to be that way.”

“Can I talk to you?” you called out, knowing it was never going to work. 

You didn’t know if she’d left yet but it didn't matter. She never lifts it on your end, never tries to hear you. 

A heavy sigh escaped Lucien as he stared at you with sad eyes.

“As long as you’re dead set on this, do you want to do something really stupid?”

You nodded instantly. At this point, you’d agree to just about anything. 

He held his hand out towards you and waited. 

You took a moment to gather yourself as best you could. There wasn’t much you could do at this point to stop looking like a mess but at the very least you could try to slow your breathing and blink some of the tears out of your eyes. 

When you reached out to take his hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze before you were feeling the same sensation you’d felt when he’d whisked you back to his home. This time you appeared a few steps away, right through the wall. 

Eden’s eyes widened in fear the second Lucien appeared in front of her. She hadn’t even noticed you yet, her eyes locked on his imposing figure. 

As she stumbled backward, reaching blindly for something behind her, her eyes fell to you and that fear turned to anger. 

“What did you do?” she hissed out. 

“What did I do? How about I’ll tell you that when you explain the runes that burnt their way into his skin when he tried to warn me about you.”

You watched all the blood drain from her face. “What has he told you?”

“He hasn’t told me anything,” you shouted. “He can’t, you’ve stopped him. So now you’re going to tell me.”

You felt Lucien’s presence behind you, his hand ghosting over your back as a faint reminder that you weren’t here alone. 

Eden stumbled back again, coming up against a table this time. As she did, she grabbed a handful of the rosemary you always made sure she had on hand and threw it at the both of you, murmuring something under her breath as she did. 

You could feel the empty space where he’d stood before as she banished him. 

There was a manic look in her eyes as you watched her strategize, planning out what she was about to say to you. 

“He’s tricked you,” she finally settled on. “You think he’s on your side but he isn’t.”

“I don’t believe you,” you said, and those words seemed to strike almost as much panic in her as seeing Lucien did. 

“You don’t understand. He’s the one who made the forest, he’s the reason you're trapped here at all. I saved you from that, don’t you remember?”

And then everything clicked into place. “Oh my god, you made him do it, didn’t you?”

She didn’t need to confirm it, you could see it written across her face, across the face that you knew so well. 

She floundered and you just watched in horror as your best friend unraveled in front of you. 

“No, no of course not,” she lied. “I wouldn’t do that to you. It would take a monster to do that to you.”

You remembered Lucien’s confusion when you told him you couldn’t leave the woods. “All this time you could have let me through.”

“I did let you through, don’t you see? I let you through to bring you here and I’ve kept you so safe.”

You fought not to glance towards the door, towards the woods. To not give anything away. You could make a break for it and from there, it was his woods. Maybe he could save you before Eden could command him to do anything else. 

“Lucien made it,” you said again and Eden nodded eagerly You knew exactly what she wanted. For you to blame him, to act as if this wasn’t entirely her doing. 

He could save you, you knew he could. You could run and summon him before his creation managed to swallow you whole. 

Tears pricked at Eden’s eyes but they never fell. She would never let them fall. “You will not leave me.” 

She said it the same way she commanded Lucien, with absolute authority

You weren’t falling for it anymore. 

Your cheeks felt wet again and you reached up to find you’d started crying once more without even realizing it. “I would have stayed. If you’d just asked me I would’ve stayed in a heartbeat.”

“Then why does it matter?”

“Why does it… What do you mean why does it matter? You imprisoned me and you lied to me and I trusted you.”

She scoffed. “You know what? I tried so hard to be out here on my own. I conquered so much, escaped every other weak person who was dragging me down. But something was missing, something I couldn’t run from. And then you showed up, all bright-eyed and grateful and you fixed it all. I was weak and I needed people, needed you. I need you. Is that what you want to hear?”

It fully settled that she meant every word. She needed you here, needed you to keep the sickening loneliness that you were intimately familiar with away. 

And never once did it occur to her to think about that feeling in you. 

Why would it? You weren’t a friend to her, a companion, a person. You were a tool to stave off an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her gut. 

Before you could even process the fact that you were running towards the door you were falling. You hit the ground with a thud as Eden watched on from behind you, her shaking hands pointed in your direction. 

She muttered something under her breath and then you weren’t falling anymore. Instead, you were floating slowly but surely upwards. 

It took a few moments to realize that while you might be floating, your body wasn’t coming with you. It was lying below you, cold and so very far away. 

You looked dead. 

You felt dead. 

And then you were being made smaller. Matter was being summoned up where there was none before and you were being forced into a body that you don’t want to be in, one too small for you that felt far too fragile. 

You could feel bones and tendons forming, snapping into place as Eden held you aloft in front of her. 

Skin started to form over your new, unfamiliar frame and then something else. Were they feathers?

As unfamiliar flesh continued to crawl over the bones and muscles were conjured from nothing, you tried to fight, to move, to do anything in your new form. 

You managed to lift what looked like a half-formed wing and the numbness was replaced with searing pain. 

You felt like you’d been skinned and every feather that wormed its way out of you was like a needle through this new skin. 

Eden plucked you out of the air moments before you’d finished forming into this new shape. 

She held you in her hands and you’d never felt smaller. 

“It suits you,” she said as she looked down at you, the wings she’d forced upon you being pressed into your sides by her fingers. “You were always more of a pet than an apprentice anyways.”

Before you can so much as gather your bearings you were being forced inside a silver cage.  

Functioning inside the mind of a bird was impossibly difficult. You couldn’t hold onto thoughts anymore. The closest thing you had was the fear. That much the bird could understand. 

You did your best to make out what was happening outside your cage. It wasn’t that your vision was worse now, if anything it was better. It was like the things you were seeing were losing their context and gaining a new one. 

You saw Eden summon Lucien, saw them look down at your body as Eden said, “This is your fault.” You could see his breath catch in his chest, the way he doubled over on himself.

But you also saw predators, looming shapes that you wanted to get far away from. Their voices were too loud, you needed to leave. 

Then a voice sounded not from outside your new cage, but from somewhere inside of you. “You're not dead. I can feel you. Where are you?”

You heard the words perfectly fine, you just couldn’t process them. As soon as the next would come the word preceding it was lost to you. 

They were just sounds. Why were there sounds coming from inside your head? That’s not where they normally came from. 

A panicked attempt to fly away was thwarted by this small metal prison. You couldn’t go anywhere and there were sounds coming from inside you and the creatures in the room just kept getting louder and louder. 

The voice in your head wasn’t as loud as the creatures were, and yet you could hear it so much better. It spoke again and you could feel the voice trying to calm you. “...need you to summon me… can’t get to you…”

You could barely process the words before they left you behind. 

You caught a glimpse of your side. You were gray. You weren’t always gray. Were you? It seemed strange. 

You leaned back to straighten your feathers, preening restlessly as your mind told you to get away when you knew that you couldn’t. 

The panic felt familiar in a way you couldn’t place. You knew this panic. It wrapped around your throat and stole your air with a practiced familiarity. 

You were trapped. 

You remembered this. You understood being trapped. 

The sounds started making sense again, if only for a moment. Lucien and Eden were shouting at each other over your lifeless corpse and his voice sounded in your head, pleading with you. 

“Just summon me, I can’t get out on my own.”

But you couldn’t. You didn’t have long enough, didn’t have enough of yourself left. 

He’d known this would happen, had begged to take you away, for you not to do this. He had tried to save you, was still trying to, and you couldn’t get a hold of your own mind enough to help him do that. 

With your fleeting lucidity, you did the best that you could, praying it would be enough. You focused everything you had and with all your might sent him back one word. 

“Eden.”

It was difficult to parse what happened next. As far as you could tell,  it got very loud and everything moved very fast and then something exploded. 

You couldn’t tell where it came from. It was harder to place than the voices were. It felt like you’d exploded, like your insides had folded back apart just as quickly as they had formed but it just as easily it could have been the room around you, breaking apart as Lucien took revenge in both of your names. 

You probably wouldn’t make it out. You knew that much. You were stuck in an impossible body in an impossible situation in an impossible forest. You just hoped Lucien made it out, at the very least. That you did manage to free him. 

The next thing you knew you were lying in a strange bed in a strange room with Lucien looming nervously over you. 

You flexed your hand, your own hand, without so much as a single feather. It felt like a miracle. 

The first words you sputtered out were, “Eden… is she…”

You didn’t need to finish the question. 

He looked down at you, seeming like he was trying to figure out what answer you wanted. “She’s alive. I’d rather she wasn’t but I figured it should be up to you as much as it is me. Besides, I have her name now, she can’t make me do anything ever again. So I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you said, a coughing fit overtaking you after you forced the words out. A gray feather escaped your mouth and you almost threw up at the sight. 

He graciously didn't mention it. “I really do.”

You shook your head but you didn’t have the energy to argue with him right now. 

As you did, you took in the room around you. It was somewhere foreign, the walls of the room a dull gray with beat-up wooden furniture scattered about the room. 

“Where am I?” you asked as you tried to peek out the window that sat behind Lucien without straining yourself too hard. 

“An inn. I would’ve taken you back to hell with me but after everything you’ve been through I figured you’d appreciate being clear-headed. And besides, it’s easier to leave this way, in case you want me gone.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why would I want you gone?”

“I’m the reason you’ve been stuck in your own personal hell for years, you literally have nightmares about something I did to you.”

You shook your head again. “No, that’s not right. She made you do it, didn’t she?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t change what happened to you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You pouting about it won’t change anything either. You’re not going anywhere, understood?”

He nodded as a faint smile graced his face. “Understood. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go pay for the room. I sort of just poofed us into the nearest inn I could remember as soon as I got a hold of you. You’ll be alright on your own?”

You wouldn’t be. How could you possibly be alright after all of this, after everything you knew had been ripped out from under you? 

You nodded. 

He took you at your word, stepping out the door with a final look in your direction. He closed the door softly behind him as if he was worried if it made too loud of a noise you’d spook. 

You collapsed back into the bed, letting your exhaustion take over you. 

As you fell into a fitful sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder what sort of nightmares you’d have now.

[littlespacereader]

I saw that ur criminal minds agere fic is just one so here is my request

Daddy hoch x dada derek x little reader where something is bothering her but she regressed to a headspace where she is non verbal (she is always tiny in her headspace but today she was extra tiny) and they try to find out what's wrong but there gotta go to work but dont want to leave her alone so they go all to the Bau and after a while she falls asleep with her paci in mouth a stuffy under her arm a blankie in her hand and wrapped in a very big cozy weighet blanked 😍😍🥺

GET OUT OF HERE! Don’t actually because this fic is absolutely adorable!! I’m a sucker for a good CG!Hotch fic but CG!Morgan too!! I’m dead!! I absolutely love the ideas you added to the request so I made sure to include them all! I apologize for how long this took me to write. Between school and all the rewriting I’ve been doing it’s been a bit of a hassle. But I’m very happy with how this fic turned out! Please enjoy!! Thank you for the request!

Baby in the Bullpen 🍼🏢📄

Caregiver! Aaron Hotchner, Caregiver! Derek Morgan, & Fem Little! Reader

Tags - SFW!, hurt/comfort, hugs, cuddles, forehead kisses, pacifiers, sippy cups, low key mentions of pull-ups, BAU family

Nicknames - Princess, sweetheart, baby, sweet girl, Daddy for Hotch, Dada for Morgan

Picture a day where everything is perfect. It’s a perfect day where everything goes well and there’s no problem or pressure at all. Almost like you’ve been floating on a happy little cloud.

Today is not one of those days.

Today is a day where everything that could possibly go wrong goes wrong. Like a rain cloud that’s only centered on you.

I knew the moment I woke up it was going to be one of those days. Snuggled between my Caregivers in a nice warm bed, what more could any Little ask for? But my alarm went off and off to work I went.

It wasn’t every day my Caregivers had the day off, so I was especially mad I had work while the two of them were home. But trying to match my schedule with theirs always seemed like an uphill battle.

I arrived to my job at the bookstore to a line, let me repeat, A LINE of angry customers! How you could possibly be angry in a bookstore is beyond me, but today wanted to test me to see my limits.

So there I stood, listening to one complaint after the other, all while trying to keep my composure.

My book came with scratches on the cover!

My book’s cover was supposed to be purple!

I didn’t like the ending!

You didn’t say it was a sad book!

Blah, Blah, Blah. All utterly stupid and pointless complaints that were more ridiculous than the next. Despite their ridiculous claims it’s began to ware me down with one right after the other.

I longed for the day to end, for my Caregivers, who were probably on each others nerve by now without me as their favorite buffer. The thought brought a smile to my face.

Then my manager came over and decided to ruin it all. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to stay later today. Elizabeth called in sick.”

“I can’t I have plans.” Do I actually have plans? No, nothing besides a nice early dinner and cuddling with my Caregivers. But she didn’t need to know that.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to cancel them. You’re the only one here so you’re going to cover it.” And with that she walked away.

Suddenly I felt the weight of the day layered on again. I became overwhelmed with emotions I wasn’t allowed to have at the moment. I took my break and went into the restroom to pull myself together.

Frustrated tears fell from my eyes but I couldn’t break down now, not yet. I would have time for this when I got home. I just needed a minute and then I could go back out there and deal with everyone once again.

~~~

Morgan could see Y/N’s headlights going up the driveway before he heard the car door slam shut.

“Hotch, she’s home.” He called out to him, before the front door opened.

The moment Y/N entered the house, Morgan and Hotch immediately looked over. Morgan sat by the television and Hotch had popped out of kitchen. But immediately they could both see that something was wrong.

“Princess? You alright?” Morgan right away asked. His usual smile replaced with a worried look.

Y/N didn’t say a word. She just dropped her bags and started crying. Morgan jumped from the couch and quickly made his way over to her.

“Hey, hey, hey, what happened? What’s going on?” Morgan lifted the sad Little into his arms.

Y/N didn’t say a word, she just grabbed Morgan’s shirt like her life depended on it and cried. Hotch crossed the house, joining Morgan and Y/N at the door.

The two Caregivers shared a worried look. “What happened sweetheart?” Hotch tried to ask but still Y/N didn’t say a word. She just buried her head against Morgan’s chest and continued to sob.

Morgan began walking around the room with the Little in his arms, lighting bouncing and shushing her cries. One arm wraps around her back with his hand cradling her head.

Morgan and Hotch continue to share worried looks to one another as the two Caregivers turn their profiling sides on for a moment.

“She was supposed to be home at 3 right?”

“Yeah but she texted me saying they had to keep her there long.” Hotch replied.

“So a bad day at work?”

“This isn’t just from a bad day at work. This is a build up. We were gone all last week and now the first day of our break she has to work. Mix that with possibly a bad day and…” Hotch trailed on.

“Poor baby,” Morgan coos, “Missing your handsome Caregiver today huh?” He jokes hoping to get anything from his little one, but it doesn’t get a smile. Instead she just rests her head on his shoulder as tears still slip from her eyes.

Thankfully all the walking around bouncing seemed to work, at least a little bit. Y/N was no longer crying but she didn’t seem too happy either.

“There we go, no more tear gorgeous. You’re okay now. We’ve got you.” Morgan sat beside Hotch on the couch, pulling Y/N in his lap.

Hotch leaned over and wiped the remaining tears from her face. “It’s been a long day hasn’t it?” He asked but Y/N just cuddled closer to Morgan instead of answering.

All at once the two realized their baby was feeling a bit non verbal today. It didn’t happen often with Y/N, but when it did they knew she was feeling especially young.

“Not in the mood for talking? That’s okay princess. We’ve got you.” Morgan starts to say.

“How about this? How about we go upstairs and get changed out of these big uncomfortable clothes and into something a bit more comfortable? Squeeze my hand once for yes and twice for no.”

Morgan took her hand in his. After a moment of thinking he set a single squeeze. He looked to Hotch and nodded. “Alright, let’s get you changed.”

He stands and immediately smells something burning. “Aaron…you’re burning dinner again.” Hotch’s face dropped. He jumps up from the couch and runs into the kitchen.

Morgan smirked and shook his head. He carries Y/N upstairs and while chuckling, “It isn’t really a Daddy dinner if he didn’t burn it?” He joked. That got a small smile from Y/N. They were heading in the right direction.

Once in her light pink bedroom, he set her down on her bed and began going through her dresser drawer. “Okay, I think for you tonight we’re going to get you dressed in the absolute softest pajamas. And the absolute softest pajama you have arrrreeeeee these!”

He turned back to the bed to see Y/N sitting patiently with her favorite stuffie Sharky the shark in hand. “Ta-da!” He held up the fluffy pink long sleeve onesie complete with footed feet.

Y/N squeezes their stuffie as they took a moment of consideration. They decided with a simple nod of the head as a yes to Morgan and the footed onesie.

“Great! I thought I picked a good one,” he winked, “Now let’s get you changed for the night.”

Morgan helped Y/N take off their normal work attire and changed into the soft onesie and a pull-up for good measure. “There we are. Now let’s get your hair out of your face.” Morgan moved to get their hair tied and brush when there was a knock to the door.

~~~

Daddy walked in and he had that look on his face. You know, the look that says something’s wrong and he’s not happy about it.

“Derek I need to speak to you for a moment.”

That’s never a good thing.

“Y/N, we’ll be right outside the door okay? Just for a minute.” Dada reiterated.

My two Caregivers left the room and closed the door behind them. Then, once again, I was alone. The terrible feelings start to come back again.

Dada scared them away with his gentle rocking, shushing and jokes. He always knows how to make me feel better when I’m upset. But now my sadness was returning and with it fear. It’s never a good thing when your Caregivers go to talk about something first without you there.

I squeezed my shark stuffie a little tighter as I stared down the bedroom door. Was I in trouble? Was there trouble? My mind started to spiral with ideas.

It sounded like they were arguing, not with each other but about something. Again, that’s never a good thing to hear. My sadness took a backseat for a second as curiosity took the wheel. I hoped off my bed and walked over to the door with the hopes of maybe catching what they were talking about.

“Call them back and tell them we can’t. I mean you see the kind of night she’s having.”

“You don’t think I know that? *sigh* I tried everything, every excuse in the book. Rossi knows us, he knows Y/N. He wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t life or death, you know he wouldn’t.”

“So what are we going to do? She can’t be by herself tonight-“

I backed away from the door as I processed what they’re saying. Uncle Rossi called? That means they were going to the office. They’re leaving me.

The realization brought sadness back to the drivers seat. I walked back over to my bed and crawled under the covers. Maybe it’s better if I’m alone. I don’t want them! I don’t want anyone!

I cried into my shark stuffie as I heard the door open and close again. Then I heard the sound of footsteps over to my bed before I felt someone sit next to me.

“Sweetheart it’s okay. You don’t have to hide it’s just Daddy.” Hotch said as his hand rubbed the top of the blanket.

Okay maybe I was lying when I said I wanted to be alone…because I don’t. I want him to stay!

I peeked my head out from the blanket and was met with Daddy’s worried eyes. He opened his arms to me as a silent invitation, one I happily took. He brought me into his lap and hugged me close. I rested my head on his shoulder as tears fell from my eyes.

“There’s my sweet girl. Now, there’s something we need to talk about.”

The last scared me, and all at once I started crying some more as I shook my head no. I don’t want to hear the bad news.

“It’s okay, you didn’t hear it yet. It’s not a bad thing I promise. It’s just…a change of plans.” Hotch sighed as he began to rub my back to calm me down, “You see, Uncle Rossi called me and he really needs Dada and I to go to the office and work on something. Now normal I would rather you stay home and stay far away from the office. But I can see you really need Dada and I tonight so…you’re going to come to the office with us.”

My sniffles here and there stopped for a moment as I process what he was saying. I would come into the office with them?

I lifted my head off his shoulder and looked at him confused. I would go to his office, like this? And he was okay with it? I mean, his team knows about my regress. One of them even regresses too. Spencer and I are best friends because of it. But everyone else at the FBI doesn’t know.

I guess Daddy could see my confusing because he explained on. “It would only be us, just our team. It’s too late for everyone else to be at the office anyway. Just Aunt JJ, Aunt Emily, Aunt Penelope, Uncle Rossi and Spencer. No one else.”

That put my worries at ease, but it didn’t answer million other questions running through my mind. Before I really understood what was happening, he stood up and made his way over to the dresser.

He paused seeing my hair ties and brush sitting on top. Daddy chuckled, “It’s a good thing I stopped Dada before he brushed your hair. Isn’t that right?”

I mean he wasn’t lying. When it came to doing my hair, Hotch is my favorite person…well after Aunt Penelope, JJ and Emily of course. Morgan…he wasn’t the most gentle when it came to brushing my hair. He sat back on the bed and began to brush and tie my hair.

Once satisfied, he went to my closet and grabbed my usual Little to-go bag. He began packing it with the usuals some coloring books, crayons, toys, my pacifier, and a weighted blanket. But speaking of paci…

Immediately when I saw my favorite pacifier I whined and made grabbie hands for it. Daddy immediately held it up for me as if to say “is this want you want?” When I nodded my head yes repeatedly, he walked over and handed it to me.

I immediately popped it in and felt the rush of relief. There’s something about a paci that just melts away the stress. I held Sharkey close and closed my eyes for a moment, soaking in the nice fuzzy feeling before it disappeared.

Daddy walked back over with a little pacifier clip. He wrapped it around and clipped it to my onesie so I wouldn’t lose it.

Dada popped in with a sippy cup on his hand. He handed it to Daddy before he zipped the bag up. I looked over at Dada and notice the new outfit he was wearing. Actually, now that I’m thinking that I notice Daddy was the same way. Out of their usual at home comfy clothes and back into their stupid work clothes.

“All set?” Hotch asked Morgan.

“Yeah I’m all set. Is she all good?”

“She’s all packed up and ready to go.”

Then they both looked back to me. I just squeezed Sharky and looked away. Dada walked over and kneeled down beside me.

“I know the last thing you want to do tonight is go out. But…” he dragged the but on, “Think of this whole thing like an adventure. Going undercover with your Caregivers at the FBI. You’re our Little agent tonight.”

I lifted my head up and met his eyes. That did sound cool the way he was saying it. I put my arms out to him and made grabby hands to be held.

He never needs to be told twice. He smiled, lifting me up into his arms. “Come on baby, let’s start our adventure.”

Dada carried me to the car with Daddy right behind. In Daddy’s arms, my backpack and his brief case in the other. Daddy hoping in the drivers seat while Dada buckled me into my seat. Once he hopped into the passenger seat, we were off.

The ride to the BAU wasn’t long at all, but with the emotionally exhausting day I’ve been having, I kept nodding off the whole drive. I really only woke up when the SUV came to a stop in the underground parking garage.

Daddy came to my side of the car, helping me with my seatbelt before I hoped out. It was weird seeing the parking garage so empty. Usually it would be filled with cars. Now it had our SUV and the others cars inside of it with the rest of the spots empty.

We made our way to the elevator. “Wanna press 15 for me sweetheart?” Hotch asked. I nodded and happily pressed the button. With that the doors close and we start to go up.

Once the doors opened I immediately started to feel shy. It’s very rare that I go out regressed like this, walking around in my onesie, stuffie in my hands and my paci in my mouth.

But today was a horrible, horrible day. And there was no way I was going to be much older than I am now.

I walk closer to Dada and grab his hand. He holds onto it tightly as I walk sort of hidden behind him.

Once in the bullpen Rossi greeted us. He began briefing Morgan and Hotch on what’s going on. All the big words fly over my head as I stay hidden against Dada’s side.

After a moment he turns and looks at me, “And hello my beautiful niece! How are you doing tonight? Out on a late night adventure?” Rossi smiles.

“She’s not feeling very talkative tonight David.” Hotch explains.

“Aw! That’s no problem. Whatever is most comfortable for my favorite niece in the whole world.” His kindness starts to bring me out of my shell a bit. I turn from Dada’s side to Rossi with a small smile across my face.

“She’s your only niece.” Morgan chuckles.

“Doesn’t make her any less my favorite.” Rossi winks towards me. Again I can’t help but smile.

With my free hand I lift Sharky up to Rossi to see. “Ahh! Well if it isn’t Sharky! He scared me! I thought there was a loose shark in here! You better keep an eye on him Y/N.” He winked.

Rossi looks back up towards Morgan and Hotch and explaining what they needed to do.

Morgan looks to me and squeezes my hand before letting it go, “Alright princess I gotta go do some work. You’re going to go with Daddy, okay? I’ll see you later.”

With a pat to my back and a kiss to the top of my forehead Dada he made a move to leave. But before he could I grabbed his hand again, a whine sounding behind my pacifier.

I could feel Daddy place a hand on my shoulder as Dada turned around and took his hand from me. “I know baby, I know. I promise I’ll be back soon. You stay with Daddy.” He tried to reassure but I shake my head no.

Tears fell from my face as I watched him walk into the middle of the bullpen and take a seat at his desk. I didn’t want this! I want to be home with the two of them!

Daddy picks me up and carried me towards his office, all while rubbing my back and trying to reassure me. Looking over his shoulder I could see the whole team gathering to talk about the case.

Aunt JJ and Emily stand next to Morgan’s desk chatting with him. Not unusual. What is unusual is Spencer. I’ve never seen Spencer outside of our headspaces before. Whenever we hang out he’s regressed with me. So seeing him working and being his usual adult self was an odd shock to my system.

But soon we were in Daddy’s office with the door shutting behind him. All at once the overwhelming office became less overwhelmed with just the two of us together.

He sat his briefcase down on his desk before crossing the office and taking a seat with me on his office couch. “It’s okay. I know, it’s a long day isn’t it? And it keeps getting longer. But I’m here and Dada’s just a few feet away. We’re here.”

Daddy spends a moment reassuring and comforting me. Once my tears stop falling he coaxes me to start to color at his coffee table. “Alright, Daddy’s got to go do some work and while I do why don’t you color a picture for Dada and I? If you need anything you just come over and I’ll help you.”

With a kiss to my forehead, he picked me up and placed me on the couch. He grabs my coloring book, my crayons and my sippy cup and places them all infront of me before he heads to his desk to work.

For a little while I try not to bother him as he types away on his computer and makes phone call after phone call. But after a picture or two I get a bit antsy. I want to be by him or Dada! Not at this stupid coffee table!

So, grabbing Sharky and my weighted blanket, I make my way over to Daddy at his desk. I round the desk and pull on his sleeve.

~~~

Hotch, who can’t even remember his name at the moment with the amount of work he has, snaps out of his fog when he feels a small tug on his sleeve.

Then a small smile creeps across his face as he sees the tired Little standing infront of him, rubbing their eyes with their fist, a yawn or two escaping behind their pacifier.

“Oh, Y/N. What’s the matter sweetheart?” He asks before remembering.

He takes a moment to look them over before asking, “You wanna go to bed sweetheart?” That gets a nod. “Okay, give me a second and I’ll get the couch set up for you.”

But before he even turns back to his computer, Y/N whiles and shakes her head no. That seemed to upset her.

Hotch turns to her once again, this time confused. She wants to sleep, but not on the couch. “What’s the matter honey?” He asked concerned.

Y/N, with tired tears in her eyes, reach out to him with her stuffie and blanket in her arms. Ohhhhhhh. Finally it kicks in.

“You wanna snuggle honey? Okay. Come here, let’s bundle you up first.” Y/N holds onto her shark as Hotch leans forward and wraps her weighted blanket around her. Then he picked her up like a little burrito and sits her on his lap. Her head rest comfortably against his chest as he wraps his arms around her.

“There you go. Comfy?” He asks getting a small nod in agreement. “Alright, you go to sleep. Daddy will be right here to protect you.” Hotch adds with a kiss to her forehead for good measure.

Hotch continues on working with Y/N peacefully sleeping in his arms. Her head pressed again his chest listening to his heart beat, her paci still in her mouth and her shark stuffie held tightly inside her blankie. She’s the most relaxed she had been all day.

An hour flew by before Hotch received a knock at his door. Garcia popped her head in to ask Hotch a question but that quickly flew out the window as she got a look at how adorable Y/N was.

“Oh my gosh!!! Look at her!!” She whispered, practically dying at the sight of Y/N peacefully sleep in Hotch’s arms.

Garcia couldn’t help herself and alerted everyone to the cute sight. Soon everyone was taking a break from their work to pop into Hotch’s office and see Y/N. They all cooed and awed at the adorable Little who only cuddled closer to her Caregiver.

Morgan smirks and rolls his eyes plays fully, “Hey! When is it my turn?”

“Your chances of being president of the FBI are better than you getting Y/N from my arms.” Hotch jokes back. Now that he had the sweet sleeping Little in his arms, he was not letting her go.

[sgiandubh]

Chère Madame Connasse/ Dear Mrs. Fuckwit

First of all, please excuse the length of this answer (you have also been blocked, incidentally speaking). This deserves its own audio. In French, since the French connection is so fucking tenuous:

Here is the English translation, since I am pretty sure Madame Connasse does not speak any French:

'Dear Mrs. Fuckwit,

Oh, well - how may I put it? I also find interesting that such an idiot would lose her time sending such enormous things to a page she hates and which, in return, cordially tells her to go fuck herself.

I usually am entitled to some pretty mighty garbage, but you do have enough vocabulary as to use words like 'hubristic' and 'vortex'. That makes you, by the way, very vulnerable and also more exposed than Uganda's current budget.

But why not you, after all, like so many others? The more, the merrier and you do write, not without some chutzpah, that my French connection is tenuous, as is my legal expertise and that I make you laugh, along with all the rest of the shipper community. Which, to be honest, is as untrue as possible. But it must be such a pain in the ass for you to see that people read me, that people like what I write and that, who knows, all those people (of which there are many), have a better day, in this bizarre environment.

I have already shown you some pictures of myself, including at official events. It was not enough.

I have already shown you my car, my office, my desk and my diplomatic passport. It was not enough.

With just one click you could have checked all the (very transparent) clues I have patiently scattered in my posts, in order for you to find me. Some did. They know perfectly well that you lie and you know it, too.

So, here's the deal, you stupid bitch: your cackle will turn sour when you'll see this very official paper:

This is just one of my law degrees - my Public Law BA at the Paris II University, in June 2001, as you can see by yourself. I have worked so hard and so passionately to get it, that I don't give a flying fuck about the fact that a nobody, and a coward to boot, doubts me. I have nothing to prove, nothing to demonstrate and I owe you nothing. However, sometimes one must set the record straight and I am a very impulsive person, after all.

I shall spare you all the rest, dear Mrs. Fuckwit. There is much more, but I am afraid your self esteem could never bear it. That being said, think twice, the next time you'd try to humiliate someone you do not know. Internet is so wonderfully sketchy that you never know (pinky promise: like never, ever know) to whom you're really talking. People lie very easily in here: I find this ridiculous and useless, in 2024, when one can find more or less everything about anyone. In no time at all, provided one knows exactly how to do it (between you and me, it's not even that complicated).

You and your posse of Pointless Underlings have insulted and intimidated dozens and dozens of people of our community, with an absolutely revolting ferocity. You have been doing it for years, with complete impunity and the strong belief that you were protected by a particularly perverted context, by some obscure agendas and by the indifference of the Two Main Characters. I am here to tell you I am not afraid and also that I couldn't care less about whatever you'd write or think. You will do it again, of course, because I think your obsessive universe is limited to the tiny window of your delusions.

But don't worry, dear Mrs. Fuckwit: until further notice, I shall make mine what a distant descendant of Irish Rebels, marshal of France Mac Mahon, said during the Crimea War - I am here and I am here to stay.

Also, you know: she who laughs last laughs the best.'

[loveydovey-leviathan]

"promise"

leona x gn!reader

summary: leona pushes you away because he wants you to be happy | 2k words

cw: very loosely based on the song "promise" by laufey, reader is yuu, farena uses yuu's happiness against his brother, kinda ooc, leona doesn't know how to handle his emotions or problems, he's a dick but when is he not, leona pushes you away and he doesn't communicate properly, reader chooses leona over their world, happy ending because im not one of those writers who likes to see everyone suffer /j

.

The day Leona had was too nice and the night too beautiful for him to be putting up with his perfect, always-the-first-choice, thinking-he-knew-what-was-best-for-everyone, and quite frankly just plain annoying older brother.

"What do you want?" he grumbles as soon as he answers the call, lying down on his bed.

"What, I can't call my younger brother just because?" Farena chuckles, a sound familiar to Leona but he knows him well enough to realise that he has an ulterior motive besides just checking up on him.

"You don't call unless it's to tell me something."

"Now, I know that's not true! I've called you plenty of times but-"

"Spit it out."

The voice on the huffs, but it's followed by a few seconds of silence. Leona is about to hang up before Farena finally breaks it.

"I know about your relationship with the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, Leona. Did you really think you could hide it from me.?

"I never hid it from you."

"Then how come you didn't tell me? It's been months!"

"I don't tell you anything."

"I know that but I thought you'd tell me this at the very least," another sigh from the King. Leona waits for him to continue because there's clearly more to this pointless conversation.

"Leona, you may not be King but you still have responsibilities to uphold."

"I knew what I was getting into when I chose ___."

"Yes, but do they know?"

"Of course, they do, they aren't stupid."

"Are you sure? And I mean absolutely sure, no doubts whatsoever and everything was made crystal clear since the beginning. I'm not talking about the stupid part, in case you were wondering."

"What are you getting at," it was more of a demand than a question.

"You're a prince, Leona! That's what I'm getting at, you can't be selfish like this!"

"Yes, I can," Leona knew he was selfish, but so many things had been taken from him purely by chance, but you chose to love him. He was your first choice and he'd love you for the rest of his life, consequences and stupid responsibilities be damned.

"I meant concerning ___. They're from another world, correct? Would you make them choose between you and the family they have back in their home?"

Leona doesn't like to think about it. The thought is shoved into the far corners of his mind, where worries as heavy as this are left to fester, waiting to attack on lonely nights. He grips his bed sheets tight.

"You should consider their happiness as well, Leona," he knows that, everything he's done was in an effort to do so– to prove to you that you weren't going to regret loving him.

"And if they do choose you, and if this relationship lasts until both of you graduate, do you think they'll be happy here with you? It's one thing to date during school, but when you leave its confines and truly become a Prince, will they still be happy with you? Royalty has always upheld a tremendous amount of responsibility, and the spouse of said royalty is expected to share that burden alongside them."

Once again, Leona doesn't answer, and Farena sighs. It's one of finality and exhaustion.

"I hope you think about what I've said tonight, Leona. Good night, and I'm always here when you need me," the call ends and the second son puts down the phone. He doesn't know how long he stays awake staring at the ceiling, but by the end of it, he clenches his fist even harder and grits his jaw. He loves you too much to be selfish.

━━━━━━━

You find Leona under his usual spot in the botanic garden. He’s as pretty as always but it’s immediately evident to you that something is wrong. His body is too tense, there are dark circles under his eyes and his tail is lashing side to side in a rapid manner. 

“Leona?” you call to him, but he doesn’t answer, though you know he’s awake. You step towards him and sit down near his head, expecting him to drag your body nearer so he can lay on your lap. He doesn’t move.

You know him much more than he thinks you do, so there isn’t a doubt in your mind when you ask “...Did your brother call?”. At that, he finally raises an eyelid and his mouth moves to form the question you’ve become used to, ‘How’d you know?’ but only a sigh leaves his lips.

Suddenly he sits up, and you notice that there’s at least a foot of distance in between you. He stares at your face for a while and the silence as you wait for him to say something stretches more than it should– something is wrong and even though he isn’t acting that weird, there’s a heavy feeling in your gut that spreads to your chest and onto your fingers, begging to hold him.

So you do. You scoot closer and entwine your hands with his. He hesitates for 1, 2, 3 seconds before squeezing back and tucking his head into the crook of your neck like all he wants to do is hide away. Gently, ever so gently, you place his head onto his usual spot on your thighs and he buries his face in your stomach. The action is tight and desperate, his body curls as though he wants to mould his very being to you. It cracks open your ribs and makes your heart bleed because when he hurts, you hurt with him.

The rest of the lunch break is quiet but he doesn’t fall asleep. And when you leave you don’t see him for days.

━━━━━━━

He senses you before he even hears your footsteps, before the warm and familiar sound of your voice fills the hallways of this school. It’s always been like that with you, he realises. He doesn’t even have to search for you– it’s like he already knows his place in the world and that’s by your side, so he just gravitates towards the one he’s given his heart to. But he makes a conscious effort to ignore the tug of his legs that instinctively wants to be near and moves away. 

He knows he should just tell you, end it all before he hurts you and the poison in his veins that tells him he’s never going to be good enough taints you as well– which you aren’t, you deserve so much more than a second no-good prince– but he’s also selfish, and he figures out that he is also a giant coward.

The voice that tells him so screams at him when he breaks his promise and goes back to you, tail between his legs and shame on his shoulders weighing him down. It always happens when he’s delirious on sleep deprivation because he can’t close his eyes without seeing you and the hurt expression you try to hide when you think no one’s looking. He tries to push you away, or rather to pull himself away– but he can’t stand the thought of you going back to life without him even though his conscious mind wants you to. 

When he first showed up at your doorstep, the betrayal and shock pummelled his soul to the earth and made his heart drop to his gut. But you didn’t say anything when he barged into your personal space and wrapped himself around you like he never left. He half-expected you to demand why he’d been so distant but all you did was hug him back so tight his heart lodged in his throat and tears welled up from the choking feeling. You took him by the hand and you both slept on the couch that night. By the next morning, he was gone without a word and the guilt felt even heavier, knowing he got your hopes up. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this again.

That night repeats days after and the cycle repeats. His visits don’t have a pattern. Sometimes, he comes after 3 days, others a week or more. By the third visit, you look tired- of him. He hates it but somehow it feels right, not in the way he likes but in the way you’re supposed to. The way you deserve to. Maybe if you hated him you wouldn’t hurt.

━━━━━━━

He’s lost count of how many times he’s visited but tonight when he sees you, you look angry, rightfully so. You’re undeservingly patient towards him. When Leona sees your face, you’re angry– furious at him. You look like you want to throw him across all your furniture in hopes that he feels the same way you feel.

“Leona–” he hates the way you say his name. It’s angry and cruel and deserved. “-- what the hell is going on? You won’t tell me what happened to make you act like this and then you ignore me for days right after–”

“Nothing’s going on,” he stubbornly grumbles. Like he’s said every time you’ve asked. Every time he says this you look increasingly frustrated because it’s obvious that he’s lying– and your eyebrows scrunch in exasperation once more.

But this time your face falls and his heart stops.

“We can’t keep doing this anymore, if you don’t tell me– then I can’t be with you.”

He doesn’t know why he’s so frazzled– this is what he’s been waiting for because he was too much of a weakling to tell you himself, why he started all of this in the first place.

But he misses you, and he’s selfish. He always has been and he doubts he’s ever going to change.

“Would you choose me?” The question makes you pause.

“Leona, I did choose you–”

“If you could go back to your world, would you still choose me?” Would you pick me first?

You’re silent then. His palms almost bleed with how hard he clenches his hands as he waits for you.

“...Yes. Yes, I would. If you tell me why you’re acting like this.” He doesn’t know if you’re telling the truth, if you’ll still tell him that if there really was a time you had to choose between him and your world. But he’s so tired, and he loves you more than the amount of stars there are in the sky.

“I got a call from Farena,” this makes you hesitantly reach for his hand. He meets you halfway and you rub your thumb over his knuckles. The action makes him want to tear up– you’re still so gentle with him after everything.

“Do you think you’ll be happy with me? When we both graduate and I have to help my brother rule, will you be happy?”

He feels your hand on his cheeks, lifting his head to look at you properly. The look in your eyes isn't angry or hurt, it’s soft and understanding. He almost forgot how it felt to be on the other side of your affections.

“I knew what I was getting into when I chose you. You’re rough around the edges but you make me happy in ways no one ever did, like no one ever could.”

He moves his arms to hug you but he stops, still not sure if he’s allowed to. You meet him halfway and he buries his face into your neck. You feel tears stain your shirt and he lets out a sigh so deep and tired it makes you smile.

“Haven’t been able to sleep without you, herbivore.”

You chuckle, “Guess you aren’t getting rid of me then.”

“...Sorry.”

“I know. I love you.”

“I love you too, more than anything.”

You hold him with enough love to break his heart all over again, and he holds you like a beast who doesn’t deserve it but will gladly take anything you give him.

[generalsdiary]

a stupid bet (part 2)

gn!reader x Dr. Ratio

part one here

warnings: kissing, suggestive themes, occasional curse words (?)

word count: 6k~

a/n: didn’t expect so many of you to like it, so here’s part two, I knew which way I wanted to take this – and no it isn’t smut like some might assume. two adults with a complicated situation such as this would behave a tad differently, this ain’t a movie after all. but it was fun writing, a bitch to edit it, I hope you guys like this one as well, I am quite pleased with how it turned out. not beta read (we get snapped like Tingyun), if he is ooc this has been written before he became playable ((doubt there will be another part btw))

description: the aftermath of the bet, how the new dynamic functions, stubborn and arrogant attitudes with the fear to show emotions underneath it, all the while yearning for each other (fluff) yes they are communicating, this ain’t miscommunication trope, DW

It is the same day. Late at night with the workplace practically empty, you are finishing up some work. Being in a high position of power means also late hours, you stand up to stretch from sitting for hours.

It is quiet, everything seems still and desolate, with only the occasional sounds of machines, the soft buzzing of the lights, and the occasional Ruan Mei’s creation passing through.

You’re not alone to your surprise. Another figure also stands up to stretch, you aren’t aware of the presence until you hear the low sigh.

Veritas Ratio was still here, also finishing up work, just like yourself. Both hardworkers it seems… You two have a lot more in common than either of you would ever care to admit.

Upon acknowledging each other's presence he simply says. “Oh, so you’re still here as well?”

You nod, not finding the words to say, plus small talk is pointless in your mind. To which he nods back.

“Mind if I ask what kind of work you’re still working on at the time of night?” He tilts his head, you don’t know if it is cockiness in his voice or actual curiosity. On the other hand, he should also be very aware of your area of work.

“I’m done- about to head home~” You avoid the question, the simple rivalry and some sort of defensiveness still existing.

“Huh.” He ponders for a moment. “We’re both here, we’re both almost done and we’re both also heading out? It seems we’re more similar than I thought.” He makes a lame joke, to which you cross your arms and stare him down with a raised eyebrow as if to ask ‘Seriously?’.

You do answer, more of a scoff, “Perhaps” as you turn off the screen. Then the irony of the stupid attempt at the joke also brings a smile to your face. You don’t even notice it.

He also slightly smiles, realizing the stupidity of it, “Well… I mean, we’re already here at this late night. We could also just go ahead and leave together if it is alright with you?”

You nod, not thinking much of it, “Sure, c'mon.” You two exit the building.

He happily follows you out and you both soon exit the large lab building and walk out into the dark and chilly night. You weren’t aware, or maybe you didn’t notice the weather conditions being added to Herta’s space station. You two walk, all alone in the dark of late night, with only each other’s company to keep you warm.

He looks over to you, as he whispers. “Seems so peaceful and calm here, doesn’t it? It feels as if everyone has vanished from the station with you and me only left standing. Some life of the scientist huh?”

You nod at his words. Noticing your silence, it didn’t feel awkward, more tired, full of confusing thoughts and comforting silence. He continues, “How about we just keep walking without saying anything else? Let’s just… let’s just walk together and enjoy the peace of this… artificial night.”

“Sure” You didn’t mind his suggestion, walking beside him and feeling tempted to hold his hand.

He also gets an urge to hold your hand and even, hold you close. This quiet, late night has always made him feel at ease and rest, and this moment is no exception. In the darkness, it feels different, the way you two interact and behave.

You break the silence. “I’m still shocked we kissed today” to which he chuckles softly.

“I could almost say that I was surprised too. It didn’t feel like just any old kiss, it felt… like there was so much more inside it. A sort of intensity, a spark, that I couldn’t shake off for a long time. Almost as if my body felt as though it could simply melt from that kiss. It took me a bit to focus on my work again today.” He dryly chuckles.

You laugh softly at his analysis, “It appears someone liked it a lot.” And also avoiding the thoughts of it. He laughs softly at your tease and whispers, his voice a bit more tender and sensual. “Oh, I definitely liked it. I liked it a lot. It was as if I could hear some sort of music playing in that kiss. It was as if the very notes that this melody was composed of was just for that single kiss… that was the impression the kiss left on me…”

You smile, “Interesting” Is he actually truthful or mumbling nonsense? Who could know? You two bump into each other while walking and your nostrils fill with his cologne again today, just like while you were kissing and you sigh.

He also sighs and feels a sudden urge to wrap his arm around your waist, to take you in towards himself. He barely holds back the urge. “Interesting would be an understatement. You and I really must share a similar taste,” his voice goes lower, “but I can say one thing. I don’t think there was enough of our… closeness and the kissing.” He has more thoughts about this, yet quite unlike him he decides to keep them to himself, the thoughts of how your lips feel like they were made to just kiss each other and only each other, and perhaps meant to walk together in these quiet night station hours… He sighs softly, his mind turning into just nonsense.

It certainly is pleasant to be walking during these hours, and his words make you ponder over your thoughts and possible bubbling emotions. The calmness is unlike most other places, yet this peaceful atmosphere keeps you calm with which you also feel a bit of temptation. Feeling like you want to give in, want to take his hand in yours… Be close to him.

You both walk slowly, wanting perhaps to be closer to one another, your hands bumping into each other as you walk. Your bumps, as well as every other accidental touch and brush, only seem to tempt you further.

When your fingers brush against his you move them away like you got burnt, it feels like a zap of electricity, they feel too hot, too cold… like fire. And you wonder… gods why do you just want to hold his hand and get burnt? It seems as if those accidental touches are now turning even more intentional. You both keep the slow pace, perhaps both enjoying the feeling of being this close together and not wanting it to end.

Silence befalls you two once more. You don't know what to say. Stuck in a quiet and silent moment, as your bodies brush against each other with each step. Shoulders bumping, fingers brushing. Gravitating closer, you can feel that gentle heat of his body. There isn't much you two can say at this moment – you should just let this peaceful, calm, yet sensual and tempting moment speak for itself… a moment like this is worth more than any words could ever describe. Although this is more like a set of moments, rather than a single moment. Time feels like it is speeding by, seconds running yet it also feels like it has been slowed down.

„Veritas,“ You say his name softly. At the sound of your voice, he turns his head a little bit and looks right at you through the faint night lights. The look on his face seems to be filled with longing and passion, a look on his face that seems to be waiting for you to complete whatever sentence you were trying to say. He seemed quite eager to hear what you were about to say. His eyes looked as if they were burning with passion. Or perhaps you just imagined it all and he was merely waiting for you to speak, but you had his attention.

„You said you wanted to get to know me,“ you're looking ahead while walking, „yet we walk in silence.“ You try to slice the silence, the tension and thoughts of how he smells and how warm his touch would feel filling your mind, so you try to make conversation.

He nods and chuckles softly as you make this observation, „The truth is… it's just that I am enjoying being so close to you that I'd rather keep walking like this for a bit… I just…“ he sighs, closing his eyes for a moment, „I just want to feel you next to me without having to speak a word. And to also be honest…“ His voice turned to a whisper. „…I'm feeling a bit tempted. The quiet and the... silence of the night making everything feel so much more sensual, I'm having a hard time resisting…“

You look up at him, hoping your cheeks aren't shaded pink, „Resisting?“

He is fast to answer, „Resisting the temptation… I want to kiss you again… I want to feel that warmth again. Your perfume is driving me insane��� I just want to get lost inside of you with every kiss… with every touch…“

Veritas' words leave you in shock, he is completely frank, and blunt. Your thoughts scatter at his eagerness. You offer a small reaction. „Oh…“

He chuckles silently to himself at your surprised reaction, he is getting slightly out of hand, out of his usual stoic self, leaning closer while walking to say, „I mean, we could stop here and just enjoy these feelings with each other. No words are needed. I believe the quietness and the silence have just really been making everything feel so much more… as I already said, sensual. So I ask you, dearest, would you like to continue walking together as we are, or would you like to let these feelings finally get the best of us, and just… kiss?“

You stop walking and look up at him. You smirk, „You don't have a lot of self-control with indulgence now, do you?“ You tilt your head when you say these teasing words. Then almost like karma, an artificial draft blows past you two, his cologne filling his senses, making you close your eyes while it returns you the what happened earlier that day before you open your eyes again.

Veritas' eyes light up when you point out the lack of self-control but he can't help but chuckle softly. „You don't know half of it. It has been eating at me today, seems like a dam of suppressed… thoughts burst through. And they seem to be getting better of me the more and more we stand like this. I do apologize for my eagerness, it is improper… Would you really like to know just how hard it has been to hold back from simply kissing you?“ He adds the last sentence as if he is saying a secret, whispering it softly.

You smirk, „Oh, do tell me~“ Barely hiding the way his cologne almost had you swept off of your feet. Of course, he sees your reaction, just how much of an effect he seems to be having on you right now. You can feel your body just wanting to sway towards his, wanting to feel his touch, his warmth.

„Oh, where should I begin“, he does his analysis as a doctor, „My breathing has been feeling… hot and heavy… it's almost as if my heart rate has been rising faster than normal, or perhaps the fact I want to embrace you with every fiber of my being right now. But don't make me start listing the symptoms.“ He ends with a smile, to which you smile back. You'd never normally do that, you wonder what is it about this late at night?...

„Well, a mere hug is innocent enough, Veritas“ You smirk, teasingly and continue walking now. He laughs at your words before speaking, „Indeed it is. But the problem I find with this so-called 'innocent hug' is that it would inevitably lead us into the unavoidable action of you and I embracing tighter and tighter until a point where our hands may wonder and- let me not ramble, but“, he whispers into your ear, „A hug is just the beginning. Would you still like such an 'innocent' act of a hug?“

He is right, and you know he is. You try hard to not imagine it as he speaks, struggling to hold the thoughts back, to try to ease the tension you tease. “Overthinking~” You shoot him down and walk, avoiding anything upfront and making it obvious to the clever man as to why. You know he is as desperate as you to touch each other, feel, hold hands… And confused by it.

“My dear friend”, the nickname icks you the wrong way, but you ignore it, “I have quite the knack for figuring things out. And I can easily see that you want to hold me and embrace me too, but you seem to want to tease and want to be teased. Would you like to tease you a little bit?” He smirks, reading you like a book and recognizing the weak spots he can aim at.

“Oh, Veritas please don’t tease me, I don’t take it well. And, also, I assume then the innocent hug would be a bad idea.” You answer honestly rather than putting up a strong front that would crumble in mere seconds.

He is amused at your sudden concern about being teased and has an amusing tone of voice, “Alright, alright then. I promise to not tease you… well… not too much. Yes… no hug for us. It would lead us to do more… well, it would lead us down a very… not so innocent path.”

You two continue walking at a rather slower pace, you get the feeling of just how close the two of you are getting, bodies moving almost in sort of a sync, every little sway that one of you makes is seemingly replicated by the other. It is as if all other movements have faded away, except for the two of you walking together silently in the darkness.

Your fingers brush each other making you sigh. The touch of your fingertips is felt through the fabric of clothes. You become aware of each other's breathing in this silence. It all drives you insane, why do you want to hold his hand so badly… it makes you sigh again. It appears your fingers brushing has the same effect on him, your hands gravitationally shifting towards each other, as if trying to come in contact with each other, you can barely resist and you can tell Veritas is struggling not to just take your hand in his. More bumping, the desire to hold hands feeling like a natural response at this point, yet you don’t. “Veritas…” You quietly sigh.

The sound of your sigh sends shivers down his spine, turning his head to look at you, and his face is readable like a children’s playbook right now. His desires are, the same as yours. Maybe you’re both too prideful and too scared, to be honest with each other.

“We are almost where I live.” You gesture with your head, telling him the walk will end soon. You now brush your hand against his on purpose, the feeling of getting burned makes your heart skip a beat. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow then…”

He nods and you two stop near your place. His mind wishes for an embrace but you two decided against that, his eyes scanning your body as if wishing he could keep this view of you in his head. “Good night.”

People are much more honest at night time, especially if tired, the walk was something… You sigh when you enter your home, feeling frustrated, the chemistry between you two is insane, but your pride, much like his, is too big. Both without the courage to make the next move. Playing this back-and-forth game, with neither of you being willing to take the leap of being the one to start it. Kissing can be discarded always, but if someone states their feelings… with both of your arrogant personalities and your ‘enemy’ like history… well it isn’t an easy thing. So for now, you both go your separate ways, yet wishing you were in his arms, you and him laying alone in bed.

The thought of him keeps crossing your mind. You are thinking of him as you crawl into bed, feeling the weight and warmth of the blankets surrounding you. As you lay there, you think about how it felt to walk beside him. Imagining how it would feel to sleep beside him, feel his body next to yours. Sleep overcomes you, dreams end up being of him.

The night passes by and another work day begins. As you walk into your workplace you can see Veritas walking to his desk, right across yours. He meets your eyes for a moment, it is obvious that last night left both of you shaken up and still confused… which is an understatement, to be true to the fact, both scared, tension still hanging in the air between you two.

Occasional rumors about the people who saw you kissing feel annoying to you but you divert your attention to work. Both focused on work in your own separate bubbles, time passes by quickly. Yet your mind doesn’t clear up, not with all the hushing and whispering of your co-workers in the background. Everyone seems to be chatting about this supposed ‘romantic attraction’ you have to each other, while you two pretend nothing happened yesterday. You make an effort to not even glance at him, at his indigo hair which just makes you wonder if it would feel as soft with your fingers going through it- no, you stop your thoughts.

Feeling tired from a few hours of work and your mind distracting you with memories and scenarios you get up from your desk, intending to walk outside and get a break, catch some air. Your work building has experiments of installing new weather conditions on the station getting performed on it, so you look forward to the artificial wind on the rooftop.

While you walk away, you hear footsteps, someone had the same intention as you. Following right behind you.

Outside you find a spot without anyone, yet the footsteps follow close behind. You slowly breathe in, and the air feels fresh, the experiment might be successful, but it sure feels real. You turn around to see who followed you to ruin your break and time alone.

When you turn, you find Veritas staring right back at you. You both wanted to get away and walk away from all the noise. His face is neutral, but his eyes are soft while he tries to figure out your mood, and your thoughts. The tension fills the air again, especially since he is the one person who wouldn't help with all the thoughts you had of him.

„Morning“, you say simply, standing a few steps away.

„Good morning to you too.“ He nods, tilting his head slightly, „Did you also want to get a break or some… space from everything?“

„Needed a break, yeah.“ You nod back.

Attempting to turn the conversation about work his tone sounds formal, „The work can be exhausting, stressful… especially when people keep… gossiping“, he gives you a knowing look, „and everything.“

„Sleep well?“ Your voice is also formal, yet soft, not as loud as it would be if you asked him while inside.

„I'll admit“, he chuckles, „I was having a few interesting dreams last night, but other than that, I slept nicely. How was your rest last night?“ You notice how this isn't something a co-worker or a close colleague would just say to one another. You both were behaving differently, dancing on the line, on the edge of it.

„It was alright.“ You keep it simple, as silence falls again. The silence could be cut with a butter knife when the air feels thick, tension growing as you keep staring at each other. How did years of disliking and rivalry turn into this… tension after the bet and the kiss? Well, more than one kiss, but that's beside the point. Both prideful, so prideful. Like cats, predatory cats, so carefully circle their prey, but not sure if the prey is poisonous yet. Both are in the same boat, feeling the same way.

You sigh, „Veritas, I'm-„, you exhale „frustrated, but… prideful. Like you.“ His gaze was still on you when you spoke, his eyebrows raising at your words. Both struggle to get any words out regarding the matter, yet the electricity between you two is too strong, too powerful. You feel a pull towards him, and you look away.

Veritas stares at you for another few moments, before looking down to clear his mind.

„You're awfully quiet“ You complain and move away a few steps.

At this point, he also struggles to contain it anymore. His chest filled with a strange feeling of some sort of anxiety at wanting to say something yet holding himself behind. Even as you walk away from him, he calls your name, making you turn around. „Wait-„ He looks almost vulnerable, yet it could be the experiment's artificial sun making you imagine things. You make a few steps closer, raising your chin, „Yes?“

„I wish to ask you something“ He speaks softly.

„Ask.“ You look at him, a strong wind blows and you both move closer to the wall of the building, the entrance to the rooftop area, now a step or two apart.

Standing closer you can almost feel the heat of his body, it makes you tremble for a second – or is it just your imagination playing with you? He leans closer, and you also feel the desire to lean in close to him as well. He is about to say something when rain starts falling heavily and you both move under the entrance's rooftop, your bodies close to each other. So close, so close… your face a breath away. He exhales shakingly. You make an observation, a wrong one, „Why are you nervous?“

He chuckles a little bit, „Quite the opposite actually. Just finding the words for the question.“

You deadpan, „Ask then.“

The wind blows stronger moving the direction of the rain falling and you two move even closer together. The proximity makes your mind hazy, struggling to find words. Upon moving closer and the sudden temperature drop you feel the heat between your bodies, the strong wind now blowing the rain right over you. The feeling of electricity makes you both lean in closer while your hair and clothes get damp from the rain. The rain cooling you down, your breaths mingling and you curse under your breath.

Almost like you could read his mind you find the words for the very thing on his mind, „Why are we like this?“

“I… we’ve been like this ever since… well we’ve been like this for years. I feel so drawn to you…”

You tsk at his words and look away, your voice full of complaints, “I can’t get you off of my mind since the bet, your… cologne, and your- our kissing… Why the hell do you smell so good?” You furrow your brows.

He chuckles when he hears talk about the bet, making his cheeks blush a soft pink, and laughs a bit when you mention his scent.

You sigh, continuing your complaining, “And it doesn’t help that you’re so goddamn attractive and the fact that despite our hatred we know each other pretty damn well, so all this… tension…” Your words make the man chuckle warmly. He nods, agreeing that you are very familiar with one another, also feeling attracted to you. Veritas looks at you curiously.

Even after the intimate moment in the hallway yesterday you both still hesitate. You sigh, thinking of more things to complain about while he smirks at you and remains quiet.

He wonders, maybe it was more than a bet, maybe an excuse to actually get close to him, he will ask you more about it in the future. You both hesitate now, staying quiet with something just on the tip of your tongue.

You narrow your eyes, “You’re surprisingly quiet for a man who always had something to say about me.” To which he chuckles, very much aware of how right you are. He always had something to pick on about you. But now, he can’t help but smile at you silently. You curse at him softly, “Cat got your tongue?” He laughs even more, the proximity making him speechless, he looks down shaking his head slightly in amusement while you shake your head and look behind him. The tension fills up, cold rain hitting you, the desire to kiss rising. You both turn to face each other and your lips brush accidentally, just barely. You can feel your own heart beating faster when you slow your movements, almost like freezing upon the soft brush. It all feels overwhelming as you both fight the desire to kiss. You sigh and look down.

While you’re focused on resisting your urges, he moves closer. The two of you are breathing heavily, you can feel his breath against your lips, the heat of his body. You observe the way he drifts closer, but his hands remain at his sides. So proud, so hesitant.

You look at each other, the final drop about the overflow everything, you want to reach out, and his hands are formed in fists to hold back his wish to touch you.

You curse and meet his gaze, “I can’t- I… I am not a patient person, Veritas” You say sternly before meeting his lips. This time it feels as if the tension of years that passed is getting released. You both press up against each other, the heat rising. The kiss feels like it will be a longer one, your hunger to kiss him only growing while the rain pours down your back. Your hands move up his chest, over his soaked shirt, feeling the muscles of his torso, one hand moving to his damp hair pulling him closer even.

He turns pushing you gently against the wall, pressing his body into yours almost offering protection from the rain and the wind, unhelpful, you both keep getting watered down like dried plants. Not that you two would notice it that much at this point. The rain is pouring down on you, washing away your worries. You breathe in, his scent swimming around the air, making your mind foggy, both desiring to be even closer to each other. His hand stays a moment on your hips before moving to your back, pushing you into him, the proximity between you two nonexistent.

You pull away, creating a tiny distance between your lips, mumbling, “Sorry”.

He shakes his head softly, but his eyes are on your lips, they’re wet from the rain, like his. He breathes heavily, attempting to catch his breath. You look at each other, the loud rain falling the only sound.

Feeling like your actions spoke louder than words you don’t say anything more than that. He notices, chuckles, and speaks, “I know our… history. I may have never admitted myself but I always found you so… insanely clever, strategic… hot- and all of our good and bad conversations, moments when we behaved as friends- and moments when we were behaving as enemies… I- I was just too stubborn to acknowledge it- that, there might be something below the surface.”

And he was right, you two from yesterday played this back and forth, of talking and making out to prove points, and stating your confused feelings and thoughts, yet still held back. It is difficult, the fear that he might turn around and smirk, mock you for believing his actions, saying it was an experiment or something. It is very obvious that he is experiencing the same fear. Your walls are up high, and so are his. The never-ending pride, arrogance, strategy- move planning, what is the other person thinking… Is this another of his tricks… are you playing a trick on him? Too many years of lending a helping hand, or giving a snarky comment as a bully would. Of course, you would both be on edge, on the edge of control to not jump each other's bones, on the edge of misbelief, on the edge of calling him a liar. Because would you even dare imagine such a thing? You and him… him and you… It sounds good, feels right and feels wrong, feels strange, and feels like it was always meant to be- yet it doesn’t. So you both stand tall, defensive, and wishing for the other's attention. Hoping to recognize the truth and escape the lies.

He whispers, “This rivalry seems like it was an excuse to stay close, which at this moment-“, he smirks, leaning closer, “I don’t mind at all, wouldn’t you agree?”

You shake your head, whispering back, “I don’t know anything anymore”

It is painfully attractive the way he leans above you, his nose next to yours droplets of water dripping down it and falling to your lips. It feels intimate, that one droplet… you lick it off of your lips, and his eyes are glued to the action, inhaling slowly. He gathers himself and whispers, “May I propose a goal? A tool of discovery? A new goal, to sway off of rivalry, a goal of keeping ourselves united and closer than ever, and of helping each other become the best we can be and be the best we want to be for each other?”

You smirk, easily reading between the lines, “Are you asking me to date you?”

Veritas chuckles under his breath, every word spoken softly, no need for any loud or even normal volume, “Yes… yes, I am… it may be ridiculous, but I just… can’t deny the strength of…”, he makes a small break, finding himself at a loss of proper words, “us.” He looks up, “Imagine it… how brilliant we are together. Yes, I could ramble on about a ‘power couple’ of sorts and intellect and how smart we are, but I just want you. I don’t care about that, I love your genius, and the way you work and behave- it is extremely attractive I might add.” He smiles, and continues, “In this moment, I just want you, I want to keep you close, stay close to you, I want to see us and where we would go, would we work…”

You fidget with his fingers, thinking it all over, the cold water cooling you down and the passionate kiss you had moments ago moving away from your mind. Going out, to get to know each other isn’t a bad idea… but you know so much, years of him, years of Doctor Veritas Ratio and his habits. If anything you already know his flaws, as well as his virtues. This leaves only one option you’d do, “I may find myself agreeing to a new goal, Veritas Ratio.” He smiles at your words, but you still feel uneasy- like this is a dream you will wake up from and you are again being snarky to each other, the thoughts don’t help so you say more to yourself than to him as he says, “Thank you-“, interrupting him, “Oh, hush now” and crashing your lips on his again, to drown the thoughts.

This time the kiss feels slower in a way, deeper, passionate. He cups your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your cheekbone. It is almost sensual, the desire still clings onto you two, below the surface, an eternal dance between attraction and emotions, fast making out and slow meaningful touches.

You dare to take your hand in his, he swiftly gives you a small squeeze, and slowly separates your lips, with your bodies still pressed against each other.

Looking at him it feels strange to think he is taken, moreover that he is taken by you. He is yours… well, and you are his. He leans in kissing you softly once more, and you feel both of your desires rising again- “Veritas”, you mumble against his lips. He clings onto you even more, truly lacking the mentioned self-control in moments like these, you catch your breath, separating from the kiss, completely soaked with rain now. “Just because we are at the top of the food chain doesn’t mean we should abuse our power and take too long breaks.” You say in a normal voice, it is very much so unlike either of you to behave such a way, and he probably got carried away.

He laughs softly, nodding to your words. Pulling slightly away to give you some space, the wet clothes making you stick together makes both of you laugh, and he gently tugs his shirt away.

A couple of moments of silence pass, his hand caressing your cheek, gazing into your eyes, not trying to read you like he usually is, it looks like he is almost… adoring you.

Soon enough you two return to work. When asked about why you’re soaking wet- you call out the weather experimenting on the roof, to which people nod in understanding or the reckless ones dare laugh.

Later that day, again you two are the last to leave, and you walk, again, just like the night before. The night is quiet, there’s a cool draft when you exit the building, you both walk in silence, there are not a lot of words to say, and there are too many. At least you’re now together, each other’s. Your hands bump into one another.

You sigh, not wanting yesterday’s walk to repeat, and take his hand in yours, making him smile. It may all be complicated and confusing, but this feels right. You will take it slowly, this… everything. His thumb caresses your knuckles and you two walk with more ease, bumping less into each other.

When you reach your home you both stop, “Good night, Veritas” You say softly, releasing his hand, your mind does wonder how his body would feel warming up yours, would he hold you tight, would he snore… You chuckle at your thoughts. Similarly, to you, he wonders how it would feel to have his arms wrapped around you tightly, your bodies pressed against each other the entire night. You keep staring at each other- “You won’t say good night back?” You tilt your head, teasing, knowing he is thinking about something.

He laughs gingerly, raising an eyebrow and shrugging, “I wasn’t quite sure if you finished saying your goodbye yet, since you were… hmm… staring at me” He smiles brightly, happy with how he phrased it. “But yes, good night. It was nice walking with you. I shall see you tomorrow.” He reaches for your hand and places a soft kiss on the back of it while making eye contact, you step closer and kiss his cheek, whispering, “Sweet dreams, Veritas”.

[eldritch-spouse]

Prevarication

[Reader can be assumed neutral.]

TW: Body image issues; Yandere.

Hudd sits quietly in your vacant room.

He's not meant to be here, of course.

He has better things to do, now more than ever. This is utterly beneath him, every aspect of it.

In fact, ever since he met you, the historian has been tumbling down a flight of endless stairs leading him to an abyss of ruthless indignity. Truly, the demonoid believes that, if he doesn't miraculously find his footing amidst each painful tumble, it will only end with his pride shattered in a million microscopic pieces.

What's left of it anyway…

Hudsyn knew he didn't have much to begin with by the time he approached you. Because who even approaches a human for help? They're such helpless creatures on their own, almost entirely devoid of use in most situations. Stupid. Pointless. Active sophists, denialists, mendacious, perverters of truth-

It was a fool's gamble.

And Hudd tried before, past the wounds of people calling him insane at every turn, he tried to keep his chin up and hope that someone of minimal value would open their eyes, come to see that he pursues nothing but the most noble of goals.

Hope is fleeting however. He supposes he was also bankrupt on that by the time he had ventured to the surface. The surface… As much as it is filled with wondrous sites to explore, it's also deeply bothersome with its intense daylight. Days in Hell are a lot less visually stressful. Probably because there's no standard sun around the annexes, only magical imitations of a day cycle- Meaning the light Perdition inhabitants are exposed to is a lot less intense than raw sun rays. Past the shock of it, Hudsyn has to keep an even closer look on his robes, because it's hard to project facial features when a more potent source of light drowns out his own.

And, frankly, he looks garish enough, the last thing the demon needs is to look totally faceless to strangers.

Nevertheless, in retrospect, if Hudd had to guess what led him to you, it was probably a combo of hopelessness, physical stress, lack of self-respect… And, naturally, your vapid musing out loud.

He wanted to believe, desperately, for a second, that someone actually gave half as much of a shit as he did. In that moment, it didn't matter if you were human, demon, gargoyle- Fuck, you could have been a barely strung together ghoul, he would have still sprinted and sat beside you like a fumbling buffoon.

He regrets that day so much.

For fuck's sake, he's talking about it like it happened years ago when it hasn't even been a measly week… So why does it feel like Hudd's known you forever?

Sure, you said a few weird things to him that kind of put the historian at edge, you're a little weirdo, he has to concede, but you're what he's been desperately craving for all this time. A pair of functioning ears with a decently working brain between them- Someone who respects him! Who cares, who's minimally knowledgeable, critical of everything that's taken as gospel or, at the very least, willing to learn better. Willing to understand that his time is valuable and his findings even more so.

You're a gem.

Hudsyn knows he disappeared on you the day you met. And even if what you did weirded him out, on its own it wouldn't be enough to make him leave. He's seen weirder people with much less harmless quirks. No, he was nervous then. Anxious. He needed to leave sooner or later, because there was too much on his mind.

There's always too much on his mind.

But that was a different type of information. One Hudd couldn't neatly file away in organized categories, picking and plucking and flipping at it to crack secrets out. That was personal, deep, hit him in places he didn't really know how to handle. It was chaos. You made him feel chaotic, impulsive and intense in ways that had exactly zero in common with the hysteria he can sometimes fall into in the midst of his work.

It took mountains of effort for the demonoid not to reach out and touch you. In fact, he had been trying to put space between you all that time to keep himself grounded, even when you seemed receptive to more contact, when you tried to start flirting, for whatever reason. Why would you flirt with him? In truth, Hudsyn just wanted to feel your hair. He wanted to touch your cheek and place your hand in yours. It's small. You're small. Small enough to hold, he's sure of it. He would have liked to. Maybe kiss you. His mouth… Well, you wouldn't enjoy it.

Point is, you remind him of how lonely he is. Sure, better alone than with bad company, but now that he's met someone whose company is not just tolerable but enjoyable, he doesn't really want to be apart from you anymore. It's depressing.

Hudd knew what was happening to him by the time he got over his own shaking to seek you out again. He had deviated from his work just to speak with that little human again… He knew, he knew he was falling into something destructive- But he also had to, because if the demonoid didn't, then he'd just be thinking about you day and night in a rut, brain muddled and knotting itself into a ball.

He doesn't regret it.

You were… So nice to him.

Offered him tea.

Said his eyes were pretty. You idiot, they're hardly eyes to begin with.

Said he was well-spoken.

Said he was cultured.

That you could listen to him for a whole day.

And his heart just fluttered so incredibly hard that Hudd could feel his fur stand on end. It wasn't the only thing that wanted to stand, given your choice of wardrobe, but that's beyond the matter.

Was that a date? Was that your first date? Sure, Hudsyn invited himself into your living space, but you reacted so well, you looked at him so enraptured by his speech… That was a date. Some kind of date. And it went very well. Enough so that he can feel himself smiling at the thought of repeating the experience.

He hopes you smile at the concept too.

As memories flood him, the historian feels himself shiver again. It's more of a rattle, the short fur on his form bristling with the sincerity of his emotions. Hudd wonders if you'd ever willingly invite him into your bedroom, or if he's just continuing to poke where he doesn't belong. He's always been good at that.

How different would that bizarre night have been if he had gotten over his own trance and said something bolder? If you had taken him by the hand, or even the horns, and led him to your bed? Which he coincidentally sits upon now.

Would you say you wanted him?

Maybe it's far-fetched, but Hudsyn likes to imagine you would. After all the rules he's broken and the punishments be carries, Hudd desperately wants to think you'd look at his body and call it beautiful. The same way you described his eyes. Or, at the very least, that you'd look past his blemishes and accept his affections.

He's not pretty like you.

He did look good before, but those days are gone, shelved, covered in dust and cobwebs and all the resentment his heart can hold- He hates beauty in others.

But it's tolerable in you. Because your beauty is the perfect type. The natural one. It shows in all parts of your human figure and he's sure the envious must burn to a crisp at the sight of you, the ones that can decipher that perfection for what it really is.

Hudsyn gets images of you sprawled on this very same bed, your hair disheveled and the same pajamas you wore that night slipping away from your soft skin. You don't care that it's revealing, don't care that you're teasing him, you're just that comfortable. He sees his own pale, bleached hands dragging the fabric down further, greedy for more- And his imagination is so vivid he swears he feels the heat of your skin on his knuckles, the pliant molding of your body as you stretch lazily and part your legs, giving him a view that-

Hudd groans.

His robes shift, and the fantasy dies immediately.

Because if you can't get over his blemishes then you'll certainly never come to accept his genitals. Just feeling his exterior protrusions -He doesn't know what to call them, they're not claspers or tendrils, but they move and swell- Pulse is a painful reminder that he's packing something very weird, and not just by human standards. You wouldn't want that. But that doesn't mean he can't fool himself.

By the time he feels his cock unfurl and poking at the top of his slit, the demonoid huffs, resigning himself to his self-inflicted predicament and lifting his robes out of the way. His dick emerges faster than ever before, probably because he's been in a dry spell for way too long- He likes to keep track of things, but as the years passed, Hudsyn grew a little too embarrassed to keep doing so in this regard.

It's a dark grayish member that curves firmly upwards, thin but long enough to make some men jealous. Hudd pulses, it's not a throb, he can see his own member contract and dilate as if he's going to lay something. But Hudsyn doesn't lay eggs. Maybe he was meant to, and something went wrong, he's not sure. He doesn't care. Beneath his strangely flexible dick, his clit perks and his pussy clenches, starting to make a mess of your sheets.

Yeah, a human might say he's uh- Kinda fucky.

Beyond his own self-awareness, the historian entertains the idea that you might, by a small miracle, react positively to his package. That you'd reach out, on your knees -Because really, that's a human's place in the end. Since the dawn of time, your race has been nothing but a toy- And use your mouth to show your appreciation towards Hudd. Because his time is valuable, and you're a generous little human, aren't you?

What part of him would you want first?

Maybe you'd go for his cock, he hums while looping a hand over his own length, tugging it leisurely from root to tapered tip, imagining it's your small hand, that you'd tongue at his end and try to take him into your throat- Failing, naturally. He's too much for most, but you'd keep attempting anyway, gagging and drooling viscerally, just to please him. Hudsyn shudders, panting in the quiet of your room.

Or, perhaps, you'd service his cunt. It's been so long since he's had anything inside him, your sweet tongue would do just fine, your fingers, your perfect unblemished digits curling into all those wonderful spots while you suck his clit and pump his cock and pop back just to moan how happy you are that he gave you the time of day-

Hudsyn makes a raspy croak of pleasure, arching on your bed like a slut in heat, eyes closed, one hand fisting his shaft furiously and the other filling his pussy. Who is he fucking kidding anymore? You could bend him over in two, he might almost beg for more.

It should be him thanking you.

For listening to him.

Finding him interesting.

Letting him converse with you even when he invaded your home.

Hudd needs to thank you for making sure his pride doesn't wilt completely. Beyond all his denial, all his mixed feelings, he knows that to be the truth.

He feels accomplished around you. Apt. Intelligent.

Wanted.

And fuck, he wants you ten times more. He wants his sweet mentee right at his side. Forever.

The image of you mouthing a tender "I love you" against his soaked cunt and moving up to kiss his length, lacing your hand with his, hits Hudd like lightning.

He doesn't know what shape he's contorting into, horns tearing into your poor sheets and that stump of a tail swatting around as his thighs flex and he orgasms harder than he could ever expect, snarling.

Thankfully, most of the monster's cum falls on his own stomach and robes, this pearly white mess that's going to matt his fur if he doesn't take care of it soon. Still, all Hudd's worried about is riding out the last of his high, fingers still pumping and dick twitching, oozing.

When Hudsyn's minimally coherent, he can only bask in his own shame, clarity chiding him. Mild panic rises in the demonoid's chest when he notices the very suspicious wet spots on your bed.

Fuck.

Now what?

The sound of keys turning has the historian almost squealing in distress.

Hudd jumps off your bed, still exposed and dripping and trembling with aftershocks. He strips his robes fully, crumples them into a gross ball, then throws them out your window.

Just before you can push the door to your bedroom open, he whimpers and vanishes into thin air.

…

It smells kinda funny in here.

[kxxkiecxre]

・❥・WICKED GAMES || Jeon Jungkook ・❥・

PAIRING: Jungkook x reader

SUMMARY: how does one mend two broken hearts?

SERIES: like a moth to a flame.

WARNINGS: arguing(bear with me please 😔), miscommunication, talks of illness(cancer not for reader or Jungkook), constant bickering, cold Jungkook, mean Jungkook, reader is also in the wrong:/, drinking, unprotected sex(you’re not that stupid please wrap it), oral (f receiving), cream pie :), nothing was actually figured out.

As always enjoy!!

Previously… Next…

It pained you to see the clear hurt on his face. It made your heart shed rays like a sun during a solar storm and it burned so bad. The sheer velocity of pain was making you feel like you’d die any second. It was his glass stained eyes that truly had you gulping down the knots in your throat. You understand, you haven’t been exactly fair when you left both of them. Without as much as sparing another word for two months after you’ve disappeared.

He leaned against the kitchen island, palms embedded into the edges as he scoffed and smirked in pure anger, head falling between the space of his arms. He swayed back into an upright posture, biting on his bottom lip. The little dimples that you adore visible In his cheeks.

“I’m having trouble looking at you,” he finally mumbled, “every time I do, you seem to kill me all over again.”

Your brows furrowed, “Jungkook I’m so sorry”

He shook his head, looking around the apartment, “don’t be,” he wasn’t even sure if you apologising is what he wanted. After all, both of you seemed to hurt one another every time one of you got too close. It seemed almost like you were in magnetic field and you and Jungkook were positive and negative, something that just cannot be in a field of neutrality.

“I don’t need an apology,” it wasn’t like he was trying to shame you, or punish you, more like he was trying to be clear, “I need you to look me in the eyes, and tell me truly and honestly, between those moments where it was just us and the night, did you love me?”

Your lips parted, a sigh leaving your mouth and you take a few seconds to reply, “yes.”

He nodded, swaying back and further, chuckling to himself before his eyes landed back on you, “I find that difficult to believe.”

Your heart sunk, hitting the pit of your stomach with so much force it made you feel nauseous.

“Because if you did love me, you wouldn’t have left me like that. You wouldn’t have left everything we’ve worked for and sacrificed, because of one hiccup. I get it, she was mad, after all, she’s Yeji, and Yeji is more than understanding. If we’ve given her space and time she would have come around-“

“Kook,” you shook your head, begging to keep the tears from falling, “I didn’t want to force this onto anything or anyone, it was pointless to push this onto her if we would lose all her trust, which in the process of our own selfishness we have betrayed her, already losing it. However, if I have left without picking sides, at least then, both of you could have worked it out and perhaps you could regain at least an inkling of her trust back. You know that once you lose her it’s very hard to get her back. I just didn’t want to hurt both of you like that”

He sighed closing his eyes, “what about us? Do we not get a happy ending? Do we not get a choice?”

Somehow this night reminded you of months ago when you committed the first of your betrayal on this very counter between you two. You didn’t want to relive this pain, but every word that you share between your conversation it seems like the knife gets dug further and further, pressing your heart, threatening to rip it right out of your chest and throw it out the window.

If you had stayed and chosen sides, it would have broken a bond between one of them and yourself. At the end of the day, all three of you would have ended up hurt and split. Between choosing platonic soulmates and romantic ones, somehow you have forgotten about yourself. That day before the argument happened. It seemed like the best day ever, and all of a sudden everything had burst into flames. You didn’t want to go through that again, better yet, put both of them through that again.

Somehow both you and Jungkook continue being selfish. Standing in the kitchen discussing what ifs about the relationship that you’re not even sure stood a chance, meanwhile your best friend and his sister is in the room down the hall sleeping, fighting a disease you didn’t even know she had. You were a shit best friend, that much you knew.

“Jungkook, she’s in the other room -“

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice dropping an octave, “do we not get a chance? Is this what we’re destined for hm? Fuck it kills me not to have you in my arms when you’re within my reach”

“I don’t know what to tell you! Okay? What am I supposed to do? Tear myself in half and keep both of you happy? What about me Jungkook? What about me?”

It was quite yet again, he leaned against the counter, tapping his fingers against the bottom drawers while you held the cup of tea between your hands, looking at the orange colored liquid inside the glass as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“I love you,” he muttered, “it might be selfish of me, but I didn’t want to fall in love with you. I didn’t want to dream of you every night, to feel like this for the first time. With you.”

Your heart squeezed, trashed around in your chest to escape the hell it was going through, “I didn’t mean to either.”

You looked into his eyes, both of on the verge of crying, “I love you too, unfortunately.”

Her face was pale. The hollows below her cheekbones prominent as she sat on your navy couch, she brushed her frail hands across the fluffy pillow smiling to herself. Her hair was thinning, but it still managed to frame her face beautifully. When her eyes met yours, you could see the happiness and love within them. It made you feel warm inside, it had you smiling within seconds. That’s exactly how yeji works, she’s the sun and we’re all just orbiting her.

“Do you remember when we were 16?”

Your brows furrowed, “when exactly”

“Jackson’s 18th”

“Yeah”

“Do you remember when we promised to always be happy for the other person, even if we disagree?”

Your expression immediately fell. You were so tired, so tired of constantly being reminded of this aching grief within you. Even though nobody has died, you were grieving of what could have been of you and Jungkook, “yeji, let’s not talk about that.”

“No. Let’s.”

“Why?”

“When did you realise you fell in love with Jungkook?”

You looked down to your hands in your laps, playing with the loose string of your silk pyjamas, “when we had that big argument? I realised I didn’t have a crush on him, I was madly in love with him. That night when we made up, it really confirmed it for me.”

She smiled, “I think,” she clears her throat, “I was being selfish… I stood between love, and no one should ever do that. You would never do that to me. At the time when you told me, all I could think about was losing my best friend if something happened between you two, what I failed to realise is, that we are more than best friends. No one can ever come between us, and also, in the process, I could even gain myself the best sister in law ever”.

It wasn’t necessarily that she accepted Jungkook and you, that brought you to tears, it was the fact she set aside her own self to let you guys be happy. That is what breaks you, because Yeji is too good of a person for anyone. No one in this world will ever deserve her. She’s far too good for this impure world, for this universe that will only break your heart. yeji deserves everything good and best in this whole galaxy. No one will ever compare to her.

“I love you so much yeji”.

“I love you too, go get your mans girl.”

“He can wait” both of you laughed, and everything seemed right again.

Still as you caught up with Yeji, you worried on how you’d reconnect and mend things with Jungkook. Surely, he’s tired of all the arguments and the little things that’d come between you and now it all has you thinking. Thinking too much. Because you’re afraid and the more that you go over things, the more you realise that perhaps you’re not good for each other? Maybe you’re too toxic for one another.

All things aside you still love him more than you could ever love yourself. He’s the only person that could ever make you feel like all the stars exploded within your body and it was all just fireworks going off inside your chest. No one ever made you this happy, this overwhelmingly positive and no one’s ever made you feel as beautiful as he would every time he’d touch your body, every crevice his lips would kiss would ignite confidence and love in their wake.

Maybe that is why your heart still calls for him. Because you’d rather give him your heart, whether it was shattered into pieces and glued together and the last drop of your blood then live without him. So even if he was cold, even if he rejected you, you’d do nothing more than love every inch of him and devote your soul and body to him. Because no one’s ever had you this foolish within the desire for another’s heart and body like he does.

No one ever, loves the way Jungkook loves.

By the time things started to become normal, Yeji was finally fully cancer free and steadily recovering. Her cheeks started to become fuller, her skin regaining that healthy glow and her hair was growing and becoming bouncy just like before. In moments, you finally felt some sense of normality, like nothing ever happened. Until it came to talking to Jungkook.

Every time you’d direct your focus on him and speak to him, wether to have a conversation or to ask him a question, he’d either out right ignore you or be extremely short and cold with his answers, distant.

He’s become overwhelmingly distant. It was killing you inside, but at the same time you didn’t have the guts to confront him. Your guilty conscience was holding you back, reminding you that this wasn’t his fault. That he has every right to be upset with you and never talk to you again. It hurt, but you leaving him so easily must’ve hurt him even more. Because you know that if he did that to you, you’d be in shambles.

You tried your hardest to be happy, at the end of the day you’re in Aspen. There’s snow almost every minute of the day, everything is a white blanket of snow and Christmas lights illuminated the streets, glowing in different colours. It was like pure joy and ecstasy throw up within it.

The girls decided to go out for drinks to some club close to the cabin you were staying in, leaving the guys behind. Minho, Jackson, Lukas and Jungkook decided to stay back, start a fire in the chimney and drink beer watching some type of basketball you couldn’t really care about.

Slipping into the champagne rose coloured dress you sighed. It’s a shame nobody is taking this dress off you, because fuck was it beautiful. The satin material was so delightful, the dress was shorter than you’d usually opt for, but in all fairness, it did wonders to your curves. The neckline was deep, showing hints of your breasts, the hem of the skirt reached mid thigh, a dangerous length for bending. The back was exposed completely, aside from protecting the little modesty of your ass. A very flashy thin chain crisscrossed across your smooth back. Of course this type of dress required a warm coat, otherwise you’d suffer from frostbite. You’ll undoubtably will be extremely cold, but that’s a small price you’re willing to pay for this outfit.

Your coat was white and very fluffy, faux fur on the outside, warmed with wool inside. Classy and suits the rose coloured dress perfectly, your heels were high, also rose coloured material on the sides aside from the fact the foot was open, covered with blingy laces that tied up to your mid calf. You looked sexy, that much you knew.

“Suddenly, I wish I had a penis” you hear Alana behind you, her own black heels clicking off the wooden floors of your room.

You laughed, giving yourself a once over in the mirror before you slipped your bag over your shoulder. Linking arms with Alana, you walk down the stairs, where Yeji and Caroline waited. A low whistle is heard echoing the room, the girls stopped talking, smiles bracing their faces as they watched you walk down.

Jungkook watched you across the room, lazily slumped onto the armchair in the corner of the room. You looked so fucking hot and it had something inside the pit of his stomach stirring. He did not want you going anywhere in that outfit. Despite knowing he doesn’t own you or the choice of what you wear, he wishes he could just throw you over his shoulder and rip that dress off your body. He took a sip of his beer as he watched the way your smooth skin shone within the low lighting of the living room.

Good god did you look beautiful. If you were the only person in this room right now, he’d be on his knees right now. Worshipping your body the way it deserves to be, starting from your legs to your forehead he’d cover you in bruises made by his lips, he’d write his name on your body with the way he’d suck on your skin. God he’d destroy you right now, fuck you so good the only thing you’d be thinking about is his name. He wants to imprint his mark on your body, he wants you to reek of him so no man ever gets to come within half a metre of you. So no man can ever touch you again.

God he hates you so much.

Jungkooks a bad liar. He knows that, because his heart is only ever good for you. It only beats to the rhythm of your heart, every time it beats it pumps your name into his blood, injects him with the only poison he’d ever voluntarily ingest. The only medicine that could fix his fucked up head, yet the only thing that he’d let destroy him over and over and over again. He’d write your name everywhere you walked so everyone could know that the most beautiful human being walked the path they are on.

He’d shoot any sick fuck who dared to ever hurt you, he’d slice their throats in a split second to erase them from this world if they ever wronged you. Whatever you desired, he’d feed you it. He’d do whatever you wanted him to do, he’d sell his soul for you.

Even now as the boys compliment you all he does is shoot daggers there way. His eyes only softening when your own lock with his. His heart begins to palpitate, it begins to float only to slam down again, up and down up and down. It was insane the effect you had on him.

As the guys watch the game all he can do is think about you and what you’re doing. Are you having fun? What if you’re making out with someone… what if you’re fucking someone else? Fuck.

He grabs his keys, thankful for only drinking one sip of the cheap beer. Inside the rented car, he pulls his phone out, realising you’ve already been gone for almost an hour, he clicks onto your contact, cooing as he sees the picture he’s set for you, before he calls your phone.

“Yes?” He could already hear the slurring in your speech, his head thrown back into the seat, he closes his eyes trying to focus.

“Where are you?”

You giggle, “why kookie? Are you worried?”

To you, he sounded scared and you knew you shouldn’t mess with him when he’s worried about you. But you couldn’t really care, not when you’ve drunk so much alcohol in such a short period, trying so hard to mend your broken heart with alcohol when you know the only way you’d fix it is with his dick so deep inside you it’d reset you to factory settings. Just a little slut for him, just how he loves to tell you when he fucks you.

“Y/N, you better tell me where the fuck you are.”

You think for a second, taking this as a chance to ask him a question, better over a phone call than face to face, even if you’re going to see him in a couple of minutes anyway, “why do you hate me?”

“What?” He almost whispered in disbelief.

You sighed, blowing your stray hair away from your face as you leaned against the wall, “I’m in the club around the corner.”

That’s all you say before you hang up on him. He cusses, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. He can’t believe you walked to this place in such cold weather in such a flimsy dress, or in heels in this slippy weather. Sometimes you really love testing the waters of how much luck you have. As he enters the club, his eyes swarm across the crowds trying to find you, he finally does. You’re swaying side to side, talking to some guy who seems like he’s also pissed drunk. He waits for a minute, locating yeji before he begins walking towards you.

He looked so good it hurt so much. He wore black slacks, and a black knit sweater. His hair perfectly laying on his head. The sleeves of his sweater were rolled up, his Rolex so shiny and perfect around his wrist. He looked so cozy and hot it wasn’t fair.

“Come on let’s go home.” He says. Draping his trench coat over your shoulders.

“You’re not my dad.” You scoff.

He gives you a look, telling you he’s serious. You roll your eyes, shrugging out of the jacket and brushing past him as you walk to Yeji. His warm woody vanilla scent wrapping around you and already sticking to your clothes.

“Your brother is annoying” you say, with a pout.

She glances behind you, smirking, “he saw your outfit and it probably freaked him out.”

“What do you mean”

“He probably thought you were gonna hook up with some guy, and he’s jealous so he came to collect his girl.” She winks at you, sipping her sprite with a lime on top.

“Oh please, he hates my guts. Ever since that he hates me.”

She shakes her head at your oblivion, “go with him before he chews this place up.”

You groan, taking your bag from her and walking towards the man with the stern face. You groan even louder when you’re near him, huffing and scoffing as he follows you outside. Following behind he smirks to himself, kicking himself to not coo at your little tantrum.

“I don’t know why I’m even listening to you.” You groan stomping your foot as he wraps the coat around you again.

He ignores you, face still stern and cold. What is wrong with this guy. He’s so confusing, “what’s your problem Jungkook! You come here to ruin my night, demanding I go home with you yet all you do is ignore me and you’re so cold to me but everyone claims that you love me. I’m so confused. What is your problem!”

He tilts his head to the side like a puppy, eyes glistening in the night, putting the stars to shame, “let’s just go home.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No!,” you stand your ground, “either you tell me what’s your problem, or I am turning right back around and finishing what I started with that guy” you nod back to the entrance of the club.

It was very sudden, the way he pressed you up against the car, his hand around your jaw, so gentle yet so dominating, “what did you do with him?”

“Enough to have you go crazy if I told you.” you smirked, lying through your teeth but you loved the way it riled him up. You’re just testing Yejis theory.

“What did you do with him?” He asks again, this time his voice has dropped an octave, his eyes darkening.

“First,” your lips pulled into a flirty smile as your hands tangled into the back of his hair, “I lured him into me, I danced with my ass pressed up against him, before he followed me to the bathrooms, that’s where I kissed him,” your lips get awfully close to his own, so much so that if you puckered them just a little more you’d peck him, your hands sprawled over his chest, eyes looking up into his own, “I then kissed his neck, before his hands started feeling me up. He touched my ass first, squeezing it-“

“Stop” he warned you.

“Then his lips kissed my throat, his hand-“

“y/n, i said stop.”

“Why? Are you not enjoying the way I’m telling you the story? Am I taking too long? Should I skip to the part where he fucks me?”

His body pressed against yours, forehead leaning into your own, hands smacking into the car behind your head, your innocent eyes continued piercing into his, “tell me you’re lying.”

“Why?”

“Please.”

You lean into him, all you had to do was reach up and wrap your lips around him. Taste him again for the first time in ages, “I lied.”

The force with which he kissed you, had you gasping into his mouth, clearly shocked by the way your body melted into the black Mercedes which you’re pressed up against. His lips were hungry, angry and so frustrated. He could taste the cherry vodka on your lips and it drove him to kiss you with such passion it had you moaning without him even doing anything. You could feel the wetness of your pussy dripping past your thongs and down your inner thigh.

“Fuck” you whined, he grabbed your jaw a little bit tighter this time.

“Don’t ever mess with me like that again.” He said, the door behind you clicking as he held it open for you.

You ran your thumb across your lower lip, wiping the messy lipgloss because of his rough mouth. Staring into his eyes with a menacing but such an innocent look. He really didn’t want to fuck you when you’re drunk but shit was he itching to stuff you full of him. As you sit inside the car, his tongue pokes his cheek. Your lipgloss reflecting of his lips.

“I’m going to go get your coat, stay here.”

Not like you had much of a choice. If you did leave he’d probably set this place on fire. So you sat on the leather seat, the bottom of it warm against your ass. Did he set it to heat up for you? That’s so sweet. That’s exactly what he does though, he does these little gestures to make you think you’re progressing only to give you the shoulder. It takes every inch inside you not to scream at him.

He returns shortly with your coat, holding it in his hand the other in the pocket of his pants. It was unfair that he gets to look so good without even trying.

Before he could even reach the car, a woman runs behind him. A stunning woman at that. She was slim and tall, skin as white as the snow outside and hair platinum blonde. Her eyes wore a smoky black eyeshadow, her body dressed in black from head to toe. She was so fucking hot, even you could admit that.

She seems to call out for him, he smirks before turning around to face the strange woman. They talked for a minute, and like some psychopath, you could see the smile on his face just from the back of his head. It had your pink nails digging into the leather seats, a scoff leaving your mouth. Fucking bitch. Surely she could see you in the car.

You were being irrational, you can acknowledge that. But something inside of you kept eating the anger like fire would with gasoline. It had you hot and bothered, so angry steam could be seen coming from your ears. Jealousy was the most infuriating feeling one could ever have to face. It had you out of the car within a second. Walking fiercely towards the man who conversed with the woman.

Your hand wrapped around his shoulders from the back, your voice becoming cute and sultry as you spoke to him, “come on baby, I’m cold I want to go home.”

The woman standing across you, smiled, her face dropping in disappointment as he turned his head towards you for a second, “yeah we should get going hm?”.

He so badly wanted to make you feel an ounce of the furiousness he felt just a few minutes ago when you were telling him about your little hook up. He wanted you to feel how insane it can drive you. Maybe he partly succeeded, but he wanted so badly for you to experience the pulsating jealousy he feels through his body, but he was better than that. He’d never embarrass you like this, not when he can clearly see you uncomfortable. Maybe even a little insecure. To which he’s not sure why, because he’s almost a hundred per cent sure every man and woman alike was staring at you.

He nodded a courtesy ‘bye’ to the woman before wrapping his arm around your waist and guiding you towards the car again, “what did i tell you about staying in one place? Where’s the jacket?”.

You roll your eyes, scoffing.

God you make him crazy, “I don’t want you to get sick, why do you never listen to me.”

You sat inside the car again, your body getting wrapped in a hug of warmth. So cozy and warm. You close your own door before he gets to do it, evidently not happy with him. He gets in beside you, starting the car and pulling off. Your oddly silent, not saying a single word to him.

“Are you warm enough?”

You don’t say anything, just continue looking out the window as he continues driving down the road. He smirks to himself for a split second, before wiping it off his face. He clearly got you riled up and fuck did it make him want you even more.

“So you’re ignoring me?”

He’s about to lose it. What’s the deal with you? What’s the deal with him? Why can’t he be a normal human being and embrace the fact that he can now freely be with you? Is it because of how you left? Without a single word? Without bidding goodbye? Is it perhaps because he had to mend his hurt and self pity but also his disappointment with his own self without anyone there for him? Could it be that he’s so hurt and betrayed that he cannot see past it? Hardly.

Sure enough as you reach the house, the other car is gone from the driveway. Jungkooks brows furrow for a minute, before he reaches for his phone, and sends a text. “The guys are gone out to join the girls.”

You don’t say anything, once again. You simply leave his car and head for the door of the cabin. The cold outside was bitter, a cloud of mist coming out your mouth with every breath that left you. You put the key into the door and open it, setting your bag down on the little black desk by the door. Along with your keys. Jungkook follows you, also discarding his personal items. The silence in the room was loud, it was screaming at you within each corner, it was something that would surely break the toughest soldier.

“Stop ignoring me, it’s rude.”

The scoff that leaves your chest could rattle the the roof right off this little cabin, “excuse me?”

You turn to face him, a rather nerve-racking look is on your pretty little face, and just like mentioned, it made Jungkook nervous.

Your eyes turned into slits as you slowly walked towards him, your heels clicking off the wooden floors, “you’ve got quite the nerve to tell me I’m rude for simply not being in the mood to talk to you, but you can ignore me for the last couple of weeks like it’s nothing. Fuck it’s almost Christmas, we’re leaving to go back home in three days, and the only time you’ve spoken to me within the three weeks that our group reunited is now. Now when I was finally going to try and move on, when I was finally going to stop being stuck on you and have fun. Even if it wasn’t going to be good. Even if it wasn’t with someone who I actually wanted, at least, I wouldn’t still be hung up on you.”

“Have fun with someone?”

“Oh my god,” you whined, “are doing this on purpose? You have me confused for weeks, you don’t talk to me and then suddenly when I feel a small faint of happiness you kiss me! You make me go crazy, I’m going fucking crazy!”

He scoffs, “and you think I haven’t? You left me without a word, you didn’t even have half a mind to talk to me. You just left me. I didn’t know if you were going to come back, if you were going to ever talk to me or yeji again. The moment you walked out that door you took my heart with you, and now you returned, and what? Did you want everything to go back to how it used to be?”

“I don’t know! Maybe? But at least we could have talked about it.” You said.

He walked towards you, hands stuffed in his pocket as he reached you. He looked down at you, so close and personal he could probably see every pore on your face. He made you nervous, the good type of nervous. It was honestly silly how quickly and simply he could have you forget what you’re mad about. How lightning fast he could make your heart skip beats and just how much you wanted him. His hand reached for your waist, grabbing onto the curve of your hip, scrunching the dress up.

“You really think, someone could ever make you have fun, like you do with me?”

Your eyes finally looked up, meeting his darkening gaze. The sultry look on his face had you picking up on confidence. That’s exactly how Jungkook worked on you, he influenced you so much. With him you felt like you could take on the world, like you were the only woman alive. He made you confident, and he made you feel so sexy.

Your eyes turned lazy, lips parting as you looked between his lips and eyes, “you really think I need you to have fun?”

He chuckled, his nose burying in your hair as he closed his eyes to the familiar scent, “oh I know you can have all the fun by yourself.” He smirked.

“Of course you do, at the end of the day, you liked watching me have fun,” your fingers wrapped around his chin, thumb running along his plump lip, “you especially loved watching me have fun when you couldn’t join”

Your hands were almost immediately grabbed into a tight grasp with his one hand, he pinned you against the wall. Your bare back meeting the cold wall had you arching into him with a small gasp, his hips pressed against your lower stomach, “and if I remember correctly, you loved it when I had my own fun with you.”

Your lips were sealed with his own, your breath was caught in your throat as you gasped right into mouth. His mouth was merciless, swallowing you like he was dehydrated. He was crazy, kissing you like his life was on the line. His grip on your hands eased, just so both of his hands could grab your hips, pressing you further into him and at that point you could feel his belt buckle right at your belly button, you moaned mid kiss, the vulgar sound sending blood to his dick and that’s when you felt him hard against your lower belly.

The butterflies that swarmed your stomach had you detaching from his mouth, your body arching into him as your head leaned into the wall, giving him ample space to latch his lips onto your neck, kissing so hard he surely left marks. He really was fucking crazy, shit.

“Fuck, we gotta move, they could be back any second.”

Without much effort, he lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, forehead leaning up against his as his lips sucked into your bottom one, nibbling at it. Your dress rode up, exposing your ass to the cold air and bunching up at your thighs. He took this opportunity to grab a good handful of your ass, slapping it gently. Groaning into your mouth. He walked into his bedroom, on the opposite side of the living room.

He laid you down on the bed gently, his body still against yours your legs relaxed around him. His mouth began kissing down your neck, leaving a bruise on your collarbone before he tapped your ass, “sit up,”

Obedient as always, you sit up. Letting him undo the dress from the back, unbuttoning the three buttons above your ass, “I hate this dress.”

“Do you hate it or are you just jealous?” You smirked.

“Less talking, more kissing.” He chuckled as he kissed you again.

This felt like Jungkook. The Jungkook you know, the sweet man who cares about you. The one that would set the galaxy on fire for you. He slipped the dress of your body, with one smooth move, taking your underwear with him when you lifted your hips up. Your ass still on the edge of the bed, you leaned up on your elbows, your mouth parting as he drops to his knees, and for a second, you thought he was going to take your heels off, instead, he set your foot over his shoulder, kissing your inner thigh, his mouth warm against your cooler skin.

Your head leaned back, anticipating his lips. He kissed right on top of your pussy, watching your reaction as his tongue dipped inside your wet cunt. Your mouth opened, a small smile playing on your pretty lips. His tongue licked from the bottom to the top of your slit, collecting your arousal in his mouth, moaning lowly as he attached his lips on your clit sucking onto you, the pleasure forcing your body back down onto the sheets. His tongue began flicking, earning moans as a response. Your hands tangling onto the sheets, he loved you liked this, immersed in your own pleasure.

His finger entered your pussy, the feeling had you whining, biting onto your lip as you moaned, “Jungkook,”

The vibration of his low moan against you, sent shivers down your spine. He added another finger in you, stretching you out and your heel began digging into his back and that in turn made his own moan resound through you, “fuck please I need you.”

He didn’t listen, instead his tongue worked faster on you, his fingers curled in a “come here” motion, rocking inside you with so much strength your body began moving with his motions. Your whines became muffled, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip and finally you came on his fingers.

fuck I missed you”, he said, coming back onto his own feet he impatiently took his sweater off, mouth wrapping around his fingers to suck your cum off them. Your stomach rose and fell, and he was too impatient to take all his clothes off, instead he chose to kiss your body instead, pecking randomly all over stomach, chest and face, “I missed you so much”.

Your hands unbuckled his belt, pulling his zipper down. You started taking of his pants, getting them past his ass and letting them pool around his ankles as you kissed him messily, “I missed you too”.

You pumped his cock in your hand, running your thumb over his tip, collecting the precum and sucking it off right after, “condom.” You say as he begins rutting his dick up your slit, “fuck I didn’t bring any”.

You groaned, his tip hitting your sensitive clit, “I’m on birth control, are you clean?”

His mouth was busy creating bruises behind your ear, “I haven’t slept with anyone since you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He lined himself up with your pussy, his hands found yours, locking your fingers with his as he raised them above your head. His hips thrusted forward, entering you with a slight stretch. Both of you gasping in time with each other, lips hovering over each other. He took his time pushing inside you. Slowly, stretching you out and your body responded within a second. As if awaking from hibernation. Your hips moved with his as he bottomed out. Your eyes closing as he watched your beautiful face contorted in pure pleasure. He began slowly, his thrusts gentle before your breathy moans made him pick up his pace. His body thrusting with yours as your skin rubbed against each other.

The fullness inside your lower stomach was so good, the way his cock was dragging in and out of you with such precision. It had your toes curling inside your heels. Which made you wonder why he didn’t take them off you.

“You’re mine you get it? No one else’s but mine. I get to, fuck,” he moaned, your pussy clenching around him for a split second, “I get to love you.”

“Yes, fuck yes.” You agreed, your eyes so round and beautiful as they glistened, reflecting all his dreams and hopes in them.

His arm wrapped around your waist, and the force which he began thrusting inside you had you practically screaming, your nails digging into his bag as your chest and cheeks began blushing with your impending orgasm, the bed creaked with his merciless thrusting. His tip hitting something inside you so good that your moans silenced, sweat beading your body as the pleasure seeped from your head to yours toes, shooting electricity through your body as your pussy clenched around him. Leg shaking as you came without much of a warning, your voice choked up, “fuck”.

“Shit” his breathing was fast, moans resonating so deep inside his chest it felt like a rumble against yours. Face hiding in your chest as his thrust became sloppy, he chased his high, your overstimulation making tears form around your eyes as your moans drove him to cum inside you. His dick twitching, pumping hot liquid onto your walls.

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

A/N; so nothing was resolved really aside from some sex lol. I apologise for the slow updating I’m so busy. Masterlist is linked in my bio ;).

NO RECREATION OF ANY TYPE OR COPYING IS PERMITTED!

[live-laugh-lenney]

im not sure if youve already done this but what do you think arthur(tv) would be like as a s/o?

also i love ur work sm 😘🩷

we definitely need to talk more about this!!!

almost perfect.

he would be the most supportive, loving, kind and caring significant other who would put you first the entire time. he's always thinking of you, always talking about you when he gets the chance, always trying to include you even when you aren't by his side. you're his very first thought in the mornings and the very last thought at night, the first text message he sends in the morning and the last one he sends at night, the first person he checks in on once he wakes up and the last person he checks in on after a long day.

he surprises you with gifts when he's been away to places like sri lanka or norway, new york or ireland because, even though it was for his work, he wants to make you feel like you were included. wherever he goes, whoever he goes with, you're always there at the front of his mind. a snowglobe, a shot glass, a magnet... anything that has the city/country he visited.

he invites you out when plans are made, making sure it's not just a 'guy's night' before getting your hopes up, and he loves being able to show you off to his friends. always talks about you on his streams whenever he goes live on twitch or discord. brags about how lucky he is to have you and he's always a simp on his socials to make you feel loved on a platform that's usually filled with hateful and nasty things.

and i say almost perfect because he definitely has his moments.

there are moments when everything becomes a little frustrating with him - like everyone feels every now and then. the petty arguments you have where you clash over stupid topics. silly comments that he says without thinking. cancelling plans when his schedule is a little busy and being late when his shoots overrun.

because nothing is ever perfect but he is the closest thing to it.

always saying sorry first, even when he wasn't sure what he did, but it always makes the whole argument and petty conversations seem so silly and pointless. being the bigger man so they could ease the air before talking about things calmly. both promising to do better in those scenarios. before going about your day like nothing had gone on between you both.

but it's the rollercoaster of life and he doesn't mind the bad times when it means making up with good, better and much more loving memories. xx

[slytheringlambert91]

No, Tim, You’re Not Being Kidnapped! (Except Maybe You Are…) Chapter 3

Chapter 3 is finally posted!

The next morning, Bruce meets them in the kitchen.

“Morning, boys, I thought I’d drive you to school today, that alright?”

Jason nods, grabbing some fruit off the counter as Alfred places their plates on the counter.

Tim only stares, somewhat bewildered. Jason guesses he’s never had his parents drive him to school, or at the very least it has been a very, very, long time.

Jason reacted the same way the first time Bruce drove him to school.

When they reach the school, Jason and Tim get ready to get out of the car.

“My meeting with the principal is after school,since I have a morning client meeting to get to, ok Jay?”

“Ok, see ya, B!”

“Have a good day, boys.”

Tim watches Bruce pull away, a somewhat mystified look on his face.

“Is it always like this?”

“Nah, most days Alfred brings me to school,”

“Do I need to take the bus after school, since you guys have your meeting?”

“Hell no. It shouldn’t take too long, Bruce can drive both of us home afterward. There’s no point in you taking the bus.”

English that day is…interesting, to say the least. When he walks in—and hands in the work from last class—Mrs. Campbell barely acknowledges him. After that, she opens class the same way she did before, but with a slightly more creative writing prompt: “What’s your favorite piece of literature and why?”

Jason keeps his head down and does his work, and aside a few pointed comments about respecting elders and whatnot, and the weird smugness oozing from her—as if she’s actually won, Jason wants to roll his eyes at the thought—class is peaceful.

It’s strange how peaceful it is.

Until the end, that is.

“Mr. Todd, see me after class. Everyone else is dismissed.”

Tim hesitates, eyeing Jason and Mrs. Campbell, then mouths “don’t do anything stupid,” at him.

Rude. He’s never done a stupid thing in his life.

Once everyone’s left, Mrs. Campbell calls him up to her desk.

“Just to confirm, the meeting with Mr. Wayne is after school, correct?”

“Yes, I—”

“Yes, ma’am. Not that I’d expect a street rat like you to understand, but in civilized society we respect our elders.”

“I respect those who deserve it. You definitely do not.”

“Why, you little—” she cuts herself off, takes a breath, and starts again. “You better fix your attitude, Todd. you might just find yourself dumped back on the street, seeing as how you are just Mr. Wayne’s ward. He’ll get tired of you soon enough, I assure you,”

No, Jason knows Bruce won’t abandon him, Bruce wouldn’t do that.

But what if—

No.

“Actually, ma’am, dumping me back on the streets would be child abandonment regardless of the situation, and he wouldn’t do that. Furthermore,” He revels in the shocked look on her face when he throws out a ‘big’ word, “I was adopted two years ago. Legally I am his child, and I would appreciate it if you recognized that. Now, I need to be going to class, seeing as how this little—pointless—meeting has made me late to biology.” He stalks out without waiting for a response, leaving the teacher to stew.

Bruce isn’t going to abandon him…right?

No.

No, he promised he wouldn’t.

Jason just needs to trust him, that’s easy, right?

Bruce has proven to be very trustworthy.

He’d thought he’d gotten over this fear, Bruce had shown him time and time again he wasn’t going to abandon Jason, but…

What if it was all a lie?

Only 3 and a half more hours. He needs to focus.

When he got to math a bit later, Tim met his gaze, “Everything ok?” He mouths.

Jason nods, and finds his seat.

“Why are you late, Jason?” The teacher, Mr. Gilbert, asks.

“Mrs. Campbell wanted to speak with me, she didn’t give me a note or anything though. If you want to confirm, you'll have to ask her.”

Mr.Gilbert grumbles under his breath, but turns back to the board and resumes teaching.

Jason struggles to focus, even though he knows he should. Math is his worst subject, and yet he can’t drag his thoughts from the whirlwind of fears running through his mind.

Bruce could get tired of him, nevermind that he hasn’t in the last 3 and a half years.

Jason runs through the rest of the day on autopilot, barely managing to take notes in his classes.

Tim meets him outside his last class of the day, History, and they head to the office to wait on Bruce. He leans against the wall, while Tim finds a seat on a bench outside the door.

When Bruce comes in a few minutes, he barely quirks an eyebrow at Jason’s blank stare. He squeezes Jason’s shoulder, snapping him out of his daze.

“Everything ok, Jay?”

Jason just nods mutely, not meeting Bruce’s gaze.

“He’s been quiet since after English.”

“Why? What happened in English?”

“The class itself was normal, but Mrs. Campbell made Jason stay back to talk to her afterwards. I don’t know what she said.”

Jason shoots a glare at Tim, “S’not a big deal. Let’s just get the meetin’ over with.” He scuffs his shoe on the ground and pushes off the wall.

Bruce sighs, but lets it go. He leads them into the office after quietly telling Tim they’ll be right back. He keeps a hand on Jason’s shoulders, and he has to force himself not to lean into it.

Bruce greets the secretary with his most charming ‘Brucie’ smile, trying to ignore how tense his son feels. He doesn’t know what that teacher said to him, but by god if he isn’t going to find out. This isn’t like Jason.

Jason meets everything with a sarcastic smile or sharp comment. He doesn’t shut down and go quiet.

The secretary waves them into the office, and he sees who he presumes is Mrs. Campbell sitting Primly in a chair across from the principal.

“Ah, Mr. Wayne, Now that you’re here we can finally begin.” The principal—Dave Horton, maybe?—begins. “I’ll be honest, I am very disappointed we are already having another meeting to discuss Mr. Todd’s behavior, it is only the 3rd day of school, after all.”

“His name is Jason Todd-Wayne and I expect you to respect that.” Bruce’s voice is hard, he is sick of dealing with this asshole of a principle. He’d had enough issues with Dick, and then it only got worse when Bruce adopted Jason. He should have just put Jason in another school.

“Yes, of course. Frankly, Mr. Wayne, I don’t know that Jason belongs at Gotham Academy. He is clearly uncivilized, and unable to meet our standards.”

“What makes you say that? Jason has been near the top of his class since I first enrolled him.”

“Be that as it may, he refuses to respect the faculty and staff, and if this continues we’ll—”

“Does he ‘disrespect’ the faculty that don’t make him feel inferior or question his place here? Because from what I’ve heard, it was Mrs. Campbell who started it, by refusing to acknowledge Jason’s proper name.”

The principal opens his mouth to respond, but Mrs. Campbell beat him to it.

“I was merely reminding Mr. Todd that his place here is, ultimately, temporary. He doesn’t belong here, and eventually, you will send him back to Crime Alley where he belongs.”

When he felt Jason tense even more under his hand, he realized what had probably triggered the borderline dissociation, the teacher had managed to hit Jason’s most deep-rooted fear.

“I don’t think that’s your decision. Jason is my son, in every sense but biologically. What would ever give you the idea that I would willingly abandon him?”

“Well, isn’t that what happened to the gypsy? You took him in, and now you haven’t been seen together in public in a very long time. Clearly you got tired of him and replaced him with a younger model.” The teacher says it all with a wicked smirk on her face, and hot rage washes over Bruce. Before he can react though, she’s continuing.

“I mean, it only makes sense, right? Why else would you replace the old one as soon as he becomes an adult, if you’re not using them?”

Before Bruce can respond, Jason is lunging at Mrs. Campbell. He barely manages to catch him before he hits her.

“Jay, stop. Either calm yourself down or go sit outside with Tim.”

Jason glowers, but settles himself down. “Fine.”

“I did not replace my son, Mrs. Campbell. He had career aspirations that led him to Bludhaven. I couldn’t just ignore Jason when I saw he needed help. Dick and I are still on perfectly good terms, and there was no replacing of anyone. However, I am wondering how the school is going to replace my funding once I pull my son from your school? Need I remind you of the generous donations I make yearly, on top of my tuition payments?” The principal paled, “You do realize that’s inevitable, right? I won’t stand for this treatment of my son. I shouldn’t have allowed it to continue for so long, but the truth was I was too optimistic in hoping for change. We’re done here. I will be pulling my son, and all my funding, out of this school.” Bruce revels in the shocked faces of the faculty. How could they expect this wouldn’t be the outcome? Maybe if they had actually been respectful and at least attempted to apologize and change their behavior, this wouldn’t have happened.

But they didn’t, they were rude from the start. Of course Bruce isn’t going to leave his son in a hostile environment.

Speaking of his son, Jason seems to have shut down again after his outburst. Bruce loops an arm over his shoulder and steers him out of the room.

Tim stands as soon as he sees them come out the door, wringing his hands nervously. Jason forces a smile and pulls out from underneath Bruce’s arm.

Hm. He’d have to talk to Jason about the abandonment thing again.

“Alright, let’s get going. I’m sure Alfred will have more cookies or other snacks prepared for you when we get home.” He leads the way out to the car, vaguely aware of Tim trying to break Jason out of whatever trance he’s in.

By the time they get home, Jason is engaging a bit more.

“C’mere, Jay.” Bruce gestures when they get out of the car. Tim steps slightly awkwardly off to the side, and Jason rounds the car to stand in front of Bruce.

“Yeah?”

Bruce doesn’t say anything, just opens his arms to offer a hug. Jay collapses against him and buries his face in Bruce’s chest.

“You know I love you, right lad? I’m never giving you up. I promise.” Bruce barely feels him nod, but doesn’t say anything else.

At some point he opens an arm to Tim, who hesitates for a while before joining.

Bruce loses track of how long he stands there holding his son and the boy he is fighting to get guardianship of, but eventually they do separate.

When they get into the manor, Dick is waiting for them.

…on the banister.

On the 2nd floor.

“‘Sup Dickhead. Ya come just to be a jackass again?”

Well, at least Jason’s in a better mood.

“...Should we be concerned?” Tim leans over to ask Bruce.

“He does this all the time, he’ll be fine.”

“You’re one to talk, but no. I came to apologize. Bruce and I had a disagreement,” Dick pointedly doesn’t look at Bruce, “and I took my frustrations out on you and Tim.” Dick flips off the balcony, and Bruce swears his heart stops until he is landing safely in a roll.

“Dammit, Dick, how many times have I told you not to do that?”

“Yeah, yeah, B. It’s fine. Anyway, I’m sorry guys. You didn’t deserve that. Especially you Tim—”

“Hey!”

“Shut up, Jay. Tim, you’re a guest, you definitely didn’t deserve my anger yesterday.”

Tim just nods, seemingly unsure of how to respond to that.

“Dick.”

“Language.”

“It’s his name!”

“Not when you say it like that.” Jason just rolls his eyes, and it’s a useless battle. “Dick, you staying? I’m sure Alfred has a snack in the kitchen.”

“Nah, I got practice in a bit. I’m already running a bit late since I was waiting for you guys.” He starts sauntering towards the door, calling over his shoulder, “I’m taking the Ducati.”

“Wait—” Bruce rushes to follow Dick.

“Right. That’s our cue to leave, they’re gonna get in a fight about safety again or somethin’.” Jason steers Tim towards the kitchen. “Whatcha wanna do today?”

“Is it always like this?”

“What?”

“Families. Are they always like this?”

“I dunno, I think this one’s jus’ fucked.”

“I love it. It feels so relaxed.”

“I think we gotta work on your definition of relaxed, Tim Tam. Those two are always at each other’s throats.”

“At least they’re around.” Tim quiets, staring at his feet.

“There is that, at least”. Jason’s voice gets more somber too, and they stay silent until they reach the kitchen.

The rest of the day passes smoothly, with Jason and Tim relaxing in the library.

Everything is fine.

Until Tim gets a call, his face immediately pales and he rushes to leave the room.

********

Tim’s heart drops the second he reads his mother’s name flashing across his phone.

He rushes from the room, entering another one down the hall.

“Hello, Mother.”

“Timothy, what is this nonsense about you not being at the house?”

”I am at the Wayne’s, you’ve always said connections are important, so I assumed you would approve of endearing myself to them.”

”Well you assumed incorrectly, Timothy, that is just absolute nonsense! Why would I want you to associate with a street rat and a gypsy? And that nuisance of a business man is in no way suitable for your company!”

”But—“ the phone is gently pulled from his grasp before he can finish his argument, and a quick glance shows Bruce holding it.

Jason tugs him out of the room, “C’mon, Bruce will handle it.”

They head to the sitting room and set up the game console.

The next hour or so passes slowly, with Tim’s anxiety building.

”What could be taking them this long?”

”Dunno, Bruce should be back soon though.”

Tim can’t focus on the game anymore, he drops his control and his fingers tap on his thigh.

Jason glances quickly at him, “It’ll be fine Timbo, promise.”

Before Tim can respond, Bruce comes back downstairs and hands Tim his phone.

“It’s handled, officially nothing has changed, but privately I will have custody of you for as long as they are out of the country.”

Something in Tim relaxes, he loved his parents, but after seeing how the Waynes act with each other—though they are so far from being a normal family—-he can’t help but crave that.

He wants a real family, not a mausoleum of a house.

The relief must show on his face, because Bruce is pulling him into a hug.

“Does it make me a bad person to feel relieved?” Tim mumbles against Bruce’s chest.

“Of course not, sweetheart, you just recognize that this isn’t normal, and you want something closer to it. You’re not a bad person, I promise.” Bruce’s voice is low, and he’s running a hand through Tim’s hair soothingly. He shifts back, looking at Jason and then Tim, “C’mon, it’s getting late. Why don’t you guys go get ready for bed?”

They both nod and scurry upstairs.

Jason barges into Tim’s room after he brushes his teeth, and scoops the boy off his feet. “How the fuck are you this light?”

“Rude.”

”Whatever.” Jason somehow carries Tim all the way to BRuce’s room, and again a=barges in without knocking.

”Bruce!”

An amused smile spread across Bruce’s face, “What’s up, Jaylad?”

”Hold the child. He doesn’t get enough physical affection.” He drops Tim on the bed, then shoves him over and climbs in after him. “Bedtime.”

”Ok, Jay.” Bruce laughs, then switches off the lamp and wraps his arms around both his boys.

@morganbritton132 @the-booty-crusader @ursulasteffany @raphyo @passing-through-bd @aidenxcz @seannasideblog @suffering-for-eternity @malflora @crow-in-trash @fhteehj @mysecret02 @idekwutoput @comicbooker16 @narration-ator @wothmzn @sp0rksupremacy @montywithchildhoodtrauma @nix-illustrating @shinelie

[sunandflame]

Flame and Water, Chapter 3

Summary: You are the Water Pillars Tsuguko and for some reason you are terrified of the Flame Pillar. Kyojuro x Fem!Reader

Warnings: burns, fire

Word Count: 743

Masterlist of Flame and Water

"Let's sit down and talk first."

You didn't know how these words made you feel. As well the strong grip of his hand around your wrist. Yes, you could maybe fight him, but what good would that do? You weren't even remotely as strong as he was, he'd proved that earlier and you were not dumb. The only option to get out of there was to comply with his request.

"Okay" Was your answer and he made you follow him to sit on the engawa. He still refused to let go of your and looked stern into your face. "You won't run away if I let go of you now, right?" That was actually your plan, but something inside you said he wouldn't be so forgiving this time as he would just catch you again, so you just shook your head in affirmation. "Alright!" He let go and you immediately felt the cold breeze on your wrist. You hadn't even noticed how warm his touch had actually been. He generally radiated a very warm energy as if his core was flaming in fire.

Both of you sat there now and none of you said a word. The silence was oppressive, since you didn't know what to say or what he expected from you. After all it was him who wanted to talk to you, so he should start the conversation, right?

But what you didn't know was that Kyojuro himself was now overwhelmed with the situation. He had been waiting for days to talk to you, now he had you where he wanted and now he didn't knew how to start it. So he shouted your name. "Y/N!" You inevitably flinched. "Yes...?" Your voice was the opposite of his. Quiet and hesitant. He noticed how you flinched and made a mental note speak a little more restrained. "Y/n I'd like to know if I wronged you"

Your gaze was lowered to the ground, your fists gripped the hem of your haori. What kind of answer did he expect from you? You knew from yourself how unfounded and stupid your fear towards him was and yet you couldn't stop shaking and fleeing at the sight of him. "No..." Was the only thing you could get out and you heard Rengoku sigh deeply next to you "Then why do you keep running away? Why are you so afraid of me?"

Was it that obvious? Where you like an open book? No... No, it can't be that. You were even more reserved than Giyuu probably. Maybe, you thought to yourself, just maybe you have to change that? You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You felt the fear tighten in your throat and your hands started shaking again. What was the matter with you?! You were a Demon Slayer! Though no longer a Tsuguko, but you were still of high rank and you had killed many demons that were more terrifying! So why were you so scared? You fidgeted with your hands to hide the trembling, when suddenly you heard Rengoku turn to you and take your hands gently in his own. You realized how big his hands were and you looked up into his eyes. His eyes and smile were warm and gentle, as were his hands. "It's okay, don't be afraid"

His red golden eyes, like flames stared to you and brought back a memory you had been successfully suppressing. Until now. And suddenly you felt hot. Very hot. As if you were standing in a sea of flames. The air was stuffy and you start coughing. Your vision was distorted and you recognize a person whose hair resembled fire, even what he wore looked like flames. He saw you with his red golden eyes in which was a fire. Everything around you were burning and you felt the heat on your lower body, screaming was pointless as the pain had taken over just to make you unconscious. As soon as you regained consciousness you knew something bad had been done to you. That someone did something bad to you. Caused you pain because your little child's body was bandaged from top to bottom. Your skin was 40% burned as that was what the nurses around you were talking about. They also talked about other stuff that your child brain couldn’t comprehend at that moment, but you were certain of one thing. You knew that the flame man had done this to you...

🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥

Oh.. What have I done to Y/N... Well we will see how she snaps out of her flashback and if she gonna tell Kyojuro...

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