#trying to think of tags for this. whatever

[justslightlymental]

"All of them goddamn" - Saja Boys x Reader

Yo... This is just pure smut with just slight plot, also shoutout to this person @k45kart for the idea. (sorry if i tagged wrong person) also another person who wanted to be tagged: @eliengoddes

Okay uhh anyways TW or whatever warnings: Smut, gangbang (obviously) 5 demons cmon guys, I MAY HAVE WRITTEN JINUS NAME WRONG SO IM SORRY. Oral sex both receiving, degrading, praising, uhhh p in v, without protection (dont do this if u dont want kids.) Marking, breeding lowkey, demons going out of control. MAYBE SLIGHT DUB CON??? (its very much consensual but my writing style might fart on itself.) I forgot what else. Cringe warning i havent written anything in ages okay - Everything was okay.. Everything was going to be FINE… The fans were happy with our newest song… And the Honmoon was shining brighter than ever, even a tingle of gold flashing across our eyes, we were so close!!! But then Rumi lost her voice, right in the middle of our rehearsal for our live premiere of “Golden”. Before any of us could say anything she asked for 5 minutes and just ran off to god knows where! “Oh my god, what are we gonna do??” Zoey panicked, her arms flailing around. “Calm down Zoey.. It’s going to be fine… just give her some time alright?” Mira placed a hand on her shoulder to calm Zoey down, though I could see through her poker face. “Yeah, like Mira said. Give her some time… surely she will come in time.” I said, a nervous/worried smile across my face. And she never came… The next time we saw her was at our apartment, she looked shaken up. The only thing we could offer in that moment was comfort and that we did. We decided to go out for some dinner. Rumi still didn’t seem like herself, until she finally spoke. “I'm sorry about the show..” “It’s okay.. don’t worry about it!” Zoey smiled, placing a hand on her forearm. “Besides, Bobby will handle it.” I smiled as well, trying to comfort her.

And just like that he called us and once we answered we heard loud voices in the background and an out of breath Bobby yelling about how he can’t handle this, so many disappointed fans and the network losing their minds. Mira quickly shut off the phone. “We can just schedule another live show within days. Don’t worry!” “I don't think that's possible… my voice, it's in trouble..” Rumi said, awkwardly. “In trouble?? Then why did you push up the Golden release then?” Mira continued, confused. “My guess is the Honmoon, isn’t that right?” I smiled softly.

“(Name) is right.. The Honmoon.. it flashed gold, we are so close and it's so important!”

After that dinner we were brainstorming how to fix Rumi’s voice quickly. And Zoey had the “best” idea to go get some magical tonics from this one place she had heard of. And after we finally got the tonics and as we came out of the clinic Zoey was rambling on about after getting her voice back we could finally focus back on the important stuff like fans-

“Fans!” Mira whisper shouted as we saw some shadows turning into the alleyway we were in, our disguises were not the best so we tried our best to quickly become more unrecognizable-

Until we saw THEM..

Our eyes went wide as the guys walked our way, they all looked so… handsome so sexy… Rumi was the only one who didn’t look absolutely down bad until she saw the 5th guy with black hair.

Meanwhile I was looking at each and every one of them, I mean yeah some of them looked a bit sexier than others but I guess that’s because they're more my time than the others.. When they passed us I could honestly feel all of their gaze landing on me for just a moment before they continued on their way. What the fuck just happened.

And that is how we met our WORST enemies for the first time. Turned out they were a fucking demon boyband. DEMONS in a boyband yeah that's right! I don't know what crack Gwi-ma was on when he sent them to our world but IT’S WORKING. Though I do have to admit… I wonder what it would feel like if-

I smacked my head against the wall groaning, BAD (Name) BAD!!! Do not think of such unholy thoughts about your enemy, especially DEMONS.

We got suited up in our battle gear and oh my I must admit we are always so fabulous. We knew the boyband who are now better known as the “Saja Boys” would be at this game show tonight, we stood backstage looking at them gulping huge amounts of hot sauce, uh yikes. That’s gonna burn coming out- AANYWAY! Rumi said we should wait for them to come backstage and then jump down and make quick work of them, the perfect surprise attack!

We giggled a bit in anticipation as we took our spot over the stage, looking down at them. Little did we know the Jinu guy had noticed us and just as he took the mic talking about “special guests” joining us the lights turned to us at the same time he announced our name. We quickly hid our weapons and forced huge smiles on our faces.

“Yeahh! Hello everyone! We just wanted to yknow congratulate the Saja boys for their successful debut!” Rumi said with forced enthusiasm And after that the game show host and saja boys themselves said we should all slide down into the ballpit, the audience got in on it too so of course we had to oblige, though the leather we wore really made it… awkward to say, the noise was horrible too. Once we finally made it into the ballpit everyone still cheered and now it would be the time to end the show, both us and the Saja boys bowed to each other in fake gratitude and respect as the curtains closed. However once we were finally out of the publics eye they ran off within seconds and we almost had no idea where, but we managed to be able to track them down, to a fucking bathhouse. We had no choice but to go in and it was thankfully empty, and there they stood. “You really followed us here? The men's portion? You guys really are thirsty huh.” Jinu chuckled along with his bandmates. Then the demons came out of nowhere from small ruptures, but like there were a lot of them. You couldn’t lose focus for even a second and if you did it might be game over. At one point my eyes landed on Jinu who just smirked “Have fun you four.” He said as he ran off with everyone else. I looked behind me to see Mira, Zoey and Rumi in a deep fight, they seemed to be taking care of everything fine though, so I took off running after Jinu. I jumped into the air ready to slash him but he managed to dodge my blows one after another, until I finally managed to kick him in the stomach. We landed in a secluded room, it seemed to be a small sauna, the heat made both of our bodies sweaty, yuck disgusting. Finally I managed to corner him, my (weapon’s) handle against his throat as he tried to push me off. The adrenaline was flowing through me, maybe that’s why I felt extra strong right now. “Hah.. you’re a bit stronger… But not strong enough for all of us…” Jinu chuckled. That had me confused, until I could sense the presence of four other people behind us. My eyes widened and my throat closed up on itself. I couldn’t move, I don’t know if I was sweating from the heat or from the fact 5 extremely attractive demon guys were currently alone with me. Jinu quickly took advantage of my shock and pushed me away, I landed on my back, gasping for air. It hurt a little bit but nothing could compare to the sight after I opened my eyes groaning. “There you are… Sorry about the push, hopefully you're not too hurt darling.” Jinu smirked, his eyes glowing a little bit. “G-Get away from me!” I struggled, quickly standing up and forming my weapon once again, surrounded by them.

“Still got a fighting spirit huh? We like that… But don’t think we haven’t seen the way you look at us.. And honestly the feelings are mutual.” Jinu smirked, his fingers slightly grazing my cheek. I was speechless, I felt so small surrounded by them. I could feel their eyes roam my body, taking in every curve and shape. My knees were growing weak, I could feel my body reacting in ways I haven’t felt in awhile. I felt embarrassed, my cheeks flushing a deep red as I tried to not look at any of them. I felt a hand on my shoulder making me flinch. “Calm down bunny.. I won’t hurt you.. too bad.” A deep voice whispered into my ear, I turned around quickly seeing the guy named “Abs”. (bit of a silly name tbh…) ANYWAY “D-don’t-” I struggled to form words until a hand covered my mouth, it was Juni. “Yeah, you’re right… No one has to speak…” He smirked, his other hand slowly going down from my shoulder towards my chest. My eyes widened, I should be struggling, I should be fighting them… But for some reason I wanted this, I wanted them all… I felt myself growing more hot and bothered by the second. The 8 pair of eyes watching Jinu’s every movement, and my reaction. It turned me on so bad. And I swear to god I feel like they could sense my need, with the way their eyes seemed to sharpen with lust. “What do you want…” Jinu asked, uncovering my mouth. “I-I want you… I want you all..” My words were quiet, but that didn’t seem to bother them. It was like a trigger, they had my consent and they wouldn’t back away now. Juni fell back towards one of the seats with me landing on his lap. I moaned out as I felt my ass on his crotch, and he was hard. His knees separating mine as I was exposed to the other guys, not completely nude.. yet. I didn’t even care about how fucked out I already looked, all I cared about was getting that sweet release. “Someone’s impatient hm?” Jinu whispered before his lips attacked my neck, his sharp teeth grazing my skin. I whimpered, it felt so good. The other guys had come closer as well, Romance sitting down on my right side and Mystery on my left. Both of their hands found their way to my chest, feeling me up through my suit. Who knew it felt this fucking good to be touched by like 5 guys at the same time. Oh god I feel like a whore, but honestly i'm a proud hoe rn! 

Abs crouched down between my legs, Baby standing behind him as he preferred to just watch, knowing he would get his turn soon. “I think this suit needs to come off, right boys?” Abs smirked, his hands caressing my inner thighs. “You’re right, I can’t wait to see what you’re hiding under here…” Romance sighed happily, Mystery just nodding along, not really a man of words I see. Their hands turned into a soft purple hue, their nails growing in size as they made quick work of ripping my suit into shreds. I tried to cover myself up but Jinu was quick to grasp both my arms and lock them behind my back. “Don’t cover yourself darling… You wanted this right? To be taken and used by all of us.. you truly have no shame, do you?” He talked softly while Mystery and Romance both leaned down to take one of my tits into their mouths. All i could do was moan through his little speech, my core was on fire, growing wetter by the second. I don’t know if the heat made everything feel 10x better but I was enjoying this. I enjoyed the feeling of being exposed to their hungry eyes, I loved the way their mouths sucked on my tits, the way their tongues swirled around my nipples. My body arched into Juni’s body, my thighs trying to squeeze together to create some sort of friction. Abs was quick to separate my legs to get full access to my core. I did feel slightly embarrassed with his staring but that quickly dissolved as he just dove in like a starved man. His tongue swirling around my clit, making my hips buckle. His movements were precise, taking slow licks up my slit, before sucking on my clit against, his right hand closing in. Fingers painfully close to my opening. I moaned out loudly, begging for him to touch me, to feel his fingers inside. I guess he felt merciful because that’s exactly what he did. I was wet enough to fit 2 of his fingers with no problem, his long slender fingers curling up inside me. It didn’t take long for abs to find that special spot inside me that made my whole body seize. I could barely let out any noise, so over-stimulated, with Juni’s mouth on my neck, Mystery’s and Romance’s mouths on my buds, their hands cressing my stomach and sides. My eyes opened just slightly, the first thing I saw was Baby standing behind Abs, his hand slightly rubbing over his jeans, his eyes seductive as he stared down at me. I felt even more hot knowing the fact he was still enjoying himself, just staring. But I couldn’t think about him for long with the way Abs fingers thrusted deep into me and his tongue on my clit, it was enough to bring me dangerously close to climax. I yelped loudly, hips shaking. “I-Im so close- Please- Let me-” I gasped out, pushing my hips towards his mouth, needing him as close as I could have. “Greedy this one isn’t she?” Baby spoke up for the first time, enjoying watching how his bandmates brought (Name) to the edge of pleasure. “She is so intoxicating… Her scent… I wonder if she tastes just as good.” Jinu said, eyeing down at Abs, slightly jealous of how he was the first one to taste her. With the last curl of his tongue she came undone, her head thrown back in pleasure. Romance and Mystery separated from her breasts, looking down at the mess Abs created. All of them felt their senses heightened up, pupils dilating after smelling her. Their bodies fight against turning into their demon forms. Juni stood up with (name) still in his arms, turning around and setting her against the seat. She was still struggling with getting air into her lungs, slowly coming around from that intense climax. “I think we are all a bit too clothed for this next part.” Romance said smugly, his clawed hands already working on removing his shirt. “She might pass out after seeing what’s coming for her.” Mystery said quietly, following Romance’s lead. “She’s gonna pass out no matter what after we’re done with her.” Jinu grinned. 

(Name) slowly shook her head, coming back to reality, her eyes opening. In Front of her was the shock of her life, she yelled out. All five of them, completely bare, the marks on their bodies glowing ever so often, and oh my god even their dicks had the same marks. Also talking about dicks they were all so different.. Some of them had more girth, others length, already dripping with pre-cum. She felt like she was under some sort of spell as she slowly moved off the seat onto the heated up floor, sitting on her knees, hands traveling up Jinu’s legs and thighs. She looked up at him through her lashes, she looked absolutely ravishing, hair messy, some of it sticking to her forehead, her expression flushed, so full of need. Jinu’s breath hitched as his clawed hand took hold of her hair, bringing her face closer to his cock. “Open wide baby.” He instructed. And she did, her tongue rolled out as the tip landed on it. She could already taste the saltiness of his precum, so delicious. Her mouth closed in on it as her tongue rolled around the sensitive tip. He groaned out while thrusting deeper into her mouth. “Fuck.. Her mouth feels so good- I could get addicted to this.” He moaned out, fangs growing out. “Oh you’re making it sound a little too good. I want some.” Baby chuckled, pushing Jinu out of the way. Taking his place. “Hey! Wait for your turn you fucking moron-” Jinu cussed but decided to let him have his moment, instead just jerking himself off at the sight of her being used by them. (Name) whined at the loss of Jinu’s cock but was soon satisfied again after Baby pushed himself into her warm mouth. His dick was a bit shorter than Jinu’s but the girth was amazing, and like he wasn’t SMALL in any way. Actually none of them were. “Oh shit- You’re right- h-hell.” He whimpered. (Name) looked at the other men who were touching themselves, she didn’t want them feeling left out. She took hold of Abs and Mystery’s dicks, moving her hands up and down. Both of them instinctively reacted and thrusted into her hold. Mystery’s cock was long.. And Abs was just… oh yeah he was the big boy of the group definitely. 

“What a good girl…” Romance smiled, looking down at her. “S-shit.. I-I’m close-” Baby gasped out, his thrusts becoming faster, abusing the back of her throat. She was loving the treatment, even if it was harder to breathe. Her cheeks hollowed out completely, feeling every curve of his veins. “Fuck!” He yelled out as his hips stilled, spilling his load down her throat and she drank up every drop. “Look at that! Drank up everything, what a good slut.” Jinu smirked. Abs and Mystery both were moaning messes as their muscles tensed, her hands working magic on them. She didn’t take long to recover as her mouth went closer to Romance’s cock, taking the tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue just like she did with Jinu. This made the poor guy let out broken whimpers, his legs almost giving out from the sudden sensitivity. Jinu had walked behind her, crouching down, his hand traveling down her stomach towards her cunt. Fingers slowly circling her clit, making her eyes roll back into her head. She separated from Mystery’s cock and turned her head towards Abs’s dick, giving him the same treatment with slight difficulty due to the size difference. It didn’t take long for Mystery to cum onto her hand and arm, and the other to separate from her mouth, spilling his cum all over her chest. “You enjoy being marked by all of us huh?” Romance asked, tilting her head up towards him. “Y-yeah… I-I love it, I want more, please.” She begged, out of breath, whimpering due to Jinu still touching her. “Hah.. I wonder what your huntrix friends would say if they saw you like this.” Abs smiled, his finger stroking her chin. “I-I don’t care… I just want you all.. please. Help me.” She moaned out, getting on all fours. “Well look at that- So submissive.. so perfect.” Jinu said, eyes slightly wide not expecting that. But who was he to complain or deny her. His hands landed on her waist, the tip of his cock just against her slit. Moving his hips up and down just teasing her opening. Though even if she wanted to tease her more, his own self control was slowly withering away. So with the help of his hand he finally sank into her pussy. The feeling was euphoric, both of them immediately letting out strained moans. Her walls gripped him like no tomorrow, so wet, so tight. “Oh.. oh my god- S-Shit- I-I can’t-” He choked on his words, losing himself to his desires. While she was getting absolutely fucked from behind Romance took his spot in front of her mouth, getting on his knees, taking hold of her chin. With a quick ‘open up’ His cock was deep in her throat. She had never felt such pleasure before, seeing the men who just came on her already hardened up and ready to each get a turn with her, it was so sexy. Her body was being rocked back and forth, Jinu’s thrusts growing faster, the sounds of skin clapping together loud. His dick kept hitting that sweet spot in her, she had never felt this full before. All of her whimpers and moans just turned into vibrations against Romance’s cock who could feel himself very close to cumming. Both men reached their climaxes at the same time, spilling deep inside her, not caring about pulling out. The feeling of Jinu’s hot cum inside her was enough to push her over the age as well. Their juices mixed together. As he pulled out her hole leaked, making her thighs sticky and warm. “Help her up guys.” Abs smirked, him and Baby lifting her up from the ground. Her legs could not hold her weight, she was completely at their mercy. She was still so high from her recent orgasm she couldn’t form any words. Though she could feel her right leg being lifted over someone's shoulder. Thankfully she was very flexible. She could feel someone's hands squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, making her suck in air. 

She then felt someone's cock lined up with her entrance again, it felt huge… She could almost guess that- Before her thoughts could finish she saw pure white. Abs slammed himself in her, her pussy clenching around him like no tomorrow. He grunted loudly, his other hand holding the leg on his shoulder and the other on her waist. She whimpered and moaned with every thrust, his dick easily smacked against her cervix, his pelvis hitting her clit with every thrust. “O-oh- Oh my- Shiiiit-” She shook her head, trying to get away from his harsh treatment, it felt too good. She was too sensitive. “P-Please- Ah- Slower- No-” Her hands were pulled behind her, making her body arch in an awkward angle. His mouth quickly over hers, shutting her up. “Shit man- This pussy is amazing! Ah- I don’t know how long I can hold my form back-” Abs grunted, his marks glowing brighter, same with the others. “Right?! She is so intoxicating, I want to taste her soul… Ahg-” Romance inhaled her scent, his tongue licking her neck. “Do you think she could take two at the same time?” Mystery asked with an evil smile. “She definitely could… go for it… break her for good, that’s what she wants anyway.” Jinu laughed. Mystery went behind her, as the others gave him space. Abs slowed down for just a moment, both of the men looking at each other with a sly smile. Mystery lined up his dick right next to Abs and sunk in. She let out a loud yell, the pain… It was delicious. It was good, she had never been this full, never this turned on. “Oh my god look at that! She took it with no problem!” Baby and Jinu both laughed out loud. Both Abs and Mystery now worked together, creating an odd rhythm but it worked. When one went in the other went out. All of her spots being hit continuously was too much, she felt weird, something she had never felt before. “A- Im cuming- Im cuming-” She repeated before her cunt clenched hard around the two men who also just about got pushed over the edge, painting her walls white. The pressure was too much as she squirted out right onto Abs’s abdomen. Both of them retreated from her warmth, leaving her disappointed, she was obsessed, she needed more.

“You still want more? What a slut you are… oh god-” Jinu said, sweating from holding himself back. “I want more of her.. I need more of her.” Romance said. He was the first one whose self control cracked as his body turned purple, his demon side in full show. He basically snatched her out of Abs and Mystery’s hold, bending her over one of the seats, slamming himself right on into her. She yelled out, legs shaking her body rocking back and forth against the wooden surface. His thrusts didn’t falter, hand pushing down her back, keeping her down. It was inhuman how fast he could move against her, making her unable to understand shit. She was completely fucked out. The other guys were staring at their bandmate losing himself, and the way she was completely bare, completely at their mercy for them to destroy finally seemed to snap any of their self restraint. Baby was the second one who snapped, he jumped towards Romance pulling him out before he could finish his peak, pulling (Name) from the seat, placing her on her back, inserting himself into her. Immediately hitting her sweet spot causing her to cum right then and there. Poor Baby had been edged for so long that when her pussy clenched around him deliciously he just came deep into her, but that didn’t mean his cock didn’t get hard again immediately. “Out of the way, I want this pussy again.” Jinu pulled him off, his form also now changed. “Ah- J-Jinu- SO sensitive- Wait-” Though her pleas fell into deaf ears as some sat in front of her pressing her face into their dick. It was Mystery. She didn’t waste time giving him access, still tasting all of their cum on his cock, tongue swirling around him, savoring the taste. Abs and Romance kissed along her body, occasionally sucking and biting, leaving very visible marks on her. Jinus dick was smacking into her hard and rough, chasing only his own pleasure, he was indeed a selfish man. But even if he wasn’t looking out for her that doesn’t mean his thrusts weren’t painfully pleasurable. Every thrust felt like pure torture, her clit was so sensitive even the slightest touch had her body seizing up. Her eyes watering up from everything happening, make up becoming ruined. Jinu’s clawed hands sank into her waist, drawing the smallest amounts of blood. His grunts loud as he came into her for the second time. Mystery separated from her mouth after feeling himself cumming, ropes of his cum going onto her face, messing up her make up even more. All of them looked down at her on the floor, her poor pussy completely messed up and leaking, her face ruined, hair messy, body full of marks. All of their dicks got even harder, it's like she was their own aphrodisiac. 

“How do you feel?” Jinu sighed, his eyes dark with lust. “Mmmh-” She couldn’t say anything else, her legs twitching. “Fuck she looks so delicious like this…” Baby groaned, itching to sink deep into her again. “Can’t we just bring her with us? Our own personal cock sleeve.” Romance sighed dreamingly. She opened her eyes slightly, slowly coming to her senses, everything hurt, but it was so worth it. Her hands roaming through her body feeling the sticky cum and the marks they had given her just a moment ago. “Please…” She whimpered. “Aw you poor thing… We fucked you so good you can’t think about anything else now can you?” Abs smirked next to Jinu. Just as Jinu was about to go in for a kiss he heard distant yells, it sounded like her voice was being yelled out. He stood up looking at his bandmates and nodding at them, they all turned into pink smoke, disappearing from sight. “Sorry to cut this short… and not being able to take care of you more… But your friends are coming, and I don't think you wanna be seen like this…” He chuckled, snapping his fingers as the pink smoke surrounded them both, suddenly her clothes were back in one piece and he was completely dressed up. “I recommend you just tell them you got beat and somehow left alive… you figure it out… But don’t worry, we’ll see you real soon…” He gave her a kiss before disappearing. And right on time too. “Oh my god there you are!! Are you okay? Are you hurt?!” The girls bursted into the room, looking at all the messed up seats that just looked broken and then staring at her messed up hair.

“I-Im fine… Really- Ahg-” She groaned still not being able to stand properly or even realise what the fuck just happened. “We need to get you home!” “Don’t ever run off like that!!” The entire journey home she was scolded but all she could think about was Jinu and his final words. And overall the fucking gangbang she just went through… THE BEST sex she had ever had, honestly. She looked out of her window after finally being left alone by the girls and could feel herself growing wet again, not being able to forget how their touch felt and how their cocks felt inside her. Oh yeah she was definitely waiting for the next time. - thanks guys i did my duty

[lily-bisque]

ＷＡＹ ＯＵＴ ＴＨＥＲＥ 𖠰 ⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

volume four — eternal life

✦ ── pairing: lumberjack!sukuna x citygirl!reader

✦ ── synopsis: taking a hike, alone, in a massive forest to escape your mundane life may not have been the greatest idea you'd conjured up—a realization you'd come to soon after you managed to lose your map miles inland. but when a lumberjack who knows the land like the back of his hand offers you a place to stay, you think maybe your life isn't so tragic after all. besides, for the sake of your safety, who knows what lingers in the shadows after nightfall?

✦ ── contents: lost in the forest au, forced proximity, bantering, angst, trauma/torture aspects, minor injuries, eventual romance, eventual smut, no use of y/n, more tags to be added.

✦ ── a/n: listened to a ton of jeff buckley and novo amor writing this. hope you guys enjoy <3. again, check out the playlist for the curated mood and for a forehead kiss.

✦ ── word count: 4.6k

archive ─ playlist

series masterlist - previous volume - volume five

art by outdmilk on twt

“Didn’t ask for a maid, still don’t need one. Not gonna get on my knees and thank you neither.”

In the bathroom, your knee bobbed up and down, a fiery rage still swirling a tempest storm within you. You had to bite your lip to cease your incessant huffs that began to bubble over like a whistling kettle, nearly tasting copper from the pressure, eyes watering at your embarrassment.

You flexed your fingers open and closed, trying desperately to slow your breathing, but to no avail. 

Besides your snarky personality, you’d been nothing but kind to Sukuna—save for the incident in the woods, but that was when you were in intense pain. He couldn’t blame you for that.

You’d made him breakfast and cleaned up his place, and though you weren’t expecting a ‘thanks,’ you would appreciate him at least treating you like a person. You even groomed his dog for God’s sake.

You didn’t want to be here any more than he wanted you here—so he could cut the act of you being some pesky girl hovering around him like a mosquito and sucking him of his livelihood.

How much longer would you have to endure such an easily riled man no matter what you did?

The cruel familiarity of his words were no comfort either—only cracking open a wound you’d scabbed over long ago. 

But what managed to piss you off the most was that the sole reason you’d come to the woods was now somehow tainted with everything you’d been trying to escape.

The bathroom door creaked, a shadow shuffling below the crack. You could hear the huffs of Sukuna’s breath, quiet and steady, though you could tell he was deep in thought. Or at least you hoped he was after whatever the hell that was outside.

He settled to the ground, back against the bathroom door, eyes dialed in on his bedroom before him. His eyes studied the medullary rays across the wooden frame, small pathways branching out and clawing the across to the end.

You didn’t jaw a peep. If anything, you were steadily holding your breath, Sukuna having you cooling your heels.

He called your name out, gruff and irritated. 

You kept your mouth shut.

He sighed, knocking his head back against the wood and squinting his eyes, trying to decipher the emotions coursing through him. “You gonna live in there forever?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “If it means I don’t have to deal with you.” 

He doesn’t understand why hearing your voice felt like the smallest bit of consolation. “I’m afraid that’s not gonna work.”

“You’re an asshole,” you blurted, worrying your lip between your teeth, peeling the skin and feeling your skin flare in heat. 

“I know.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, the hum of the bathroom fan coming to a quiet drone in the back of your mind. “You know?”

“Yeah.”

You hesitated this time. “You’re a dick, too.”

He grunted, tossing his arms over his knees. “Shut up and come out. I, uh. I wanna show you something.”

You scowled, cracking your knuckles as you heard the wooden planks shift below Sukuna’s weight as he came to a stand. 

His shadow remained still in that little sliver, and you could feel your mood sharply sour when you’d realized he’d stomped inside with his boots still on.

You came to a stand, flinging the door open and already releasing a slew of curses. “You’re fucking unbelievable, I just mopped the—.”

Your voice was immediately muffled as he stuffed… fabric (?) into your face.

Pawing him off of you, you pulled whatever he’d shoved at you into your hands just to see he’d handed you those ugly jorts from earlier and a graphic t-shirt.

He just stood there, eyeing you casually, though you couldn’t ignore the way his eyes searched yours charily.

Clenching your teeth, you dropped your hands to your sides. “This is what you wanted to show me?”

He pushed air from his nose before walking away. “Nah. Get changed and c’mere.”

𖠰 ✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

You’d put the outfit on—not without huffing and cursing under your breath in his bathroom—after peeling Sukuna’s massive attire off, forgetting how it felt to wear clothes that actually decently fit you. 

The top he’d handed you was clearly from some grunge store, thick lettering across the front with flames and guns and skulls, and the words METALLICA in bold.

Hopping your way out of the bathroom, you peered around the kitchen and living room to find it empty, but just past the open drapes you could see Sukuna tossing a bone, Uraume wagging their tail and chasing after it.

“What do you want?” You shot with venom on your tongue, waddling down the steps you’d come to know, spots where your weight would cause squeaks and to avoid protruding nails.

Sukuna folded his arms over his chest, watching you nearly snag your bandaged foot just to see the wrap come loose. He grunted, brushing past you and into his house in a mere few strides.

Your eyes dialed in on the ground before you, eyes narrowed in a focused reverie to avoid tripping and embarrassing yourself further.

Within seconds, Sukuna came back out with the first aid box and his hat, and wrapped a beefy arm around your midsection.

Your eyes flew wide, the world flipped upside down as your maw hung agape. Your vision met his back, effectively tossed over his shoulder in one fell swoop to have your stomach heaving. 

You brought a hand down to smack his back, legs flailing as you desperately tried to pry yourself free. “Put me down, you oaf!” You shrieked, writhing in his grasp.

“Pipe down,” he growled, one bulging arm wrapped around the backs of your knees and the other carrying the first aid kit, effectively dwarfed in his meaty hand.

“No! I said put me—” You felt yourself begin to fall backwards, Sukuna’s hand cradling the back of your head as he laid you down on a patch of grass. 

Blood drained from your face as you actualized the proximity.

One large arm was still cradled along your waist, his face mere inches from yours as his hand pressed into your scalp, draining any sense of rationality from your short-circuiting brain through his finger tips. 

He then slid his hand from your head and allowed himself to steady upright by placing it beside your face in the greenery.

He smelled like Marlboro Reds.

Time felt still for a moment, eyes following the flow of the sooty work permanently decorating his face. You foolishly wondered if it hurt for him to get them—if he’d huff and grunt and blink back the tears while the artist endured whatever curses he spewed at them. 

And in a rash and senseless motion, your finger reached up and skimmed the edge of his cheek, following the inky trail in nothing but mesmerization and keenness. His skin was unexpectedly soft.

You could feel Sukuna stiffen, his muscles tensing as an annoyed growl left his lips.

And then you couldn’t feel him anymore.

He sat up, mumbling something about how you needed to be placed into an insane asylum while he shuffled through the box in his grasp to pull out bandaids.

All you could do was stare up at the sky, wondering why your finger tip was cold.

His hands were cradling your calf, eyeing your wound suspiciously after he’d stripped it of the dressing. “You said you changed it.”

“I did.”

“So not only are you irritating, but you’re a liar, too,” he scoffed.

You couldn’t help the giggle you let out at that, not able to defend yourself as you’d kept forgetting to check the bandage.

His hands worked to clean your wound, not without you wincing and twitching in his hold, but he held firmly. The ointment was cool and sharp like ice, your hands digging into the dirt behind you as you watched him work.

Venerated, your eyes followed the trails of the wide ink markings across his arm that matched his face, curiously tilting your head as your mind worked. Reasons unbeknownst to you, wonder was stitched into every seam of your making.

Every here and there, he’d find your stare and cast you with a look that sent piercing daggers, to which you’d bite your cheek and peer away.

Still, you weren’t sure if you had much of a place to ask. 

You’d fix your wide orbs on spots around you—watching as summer slipped into solstice arms, the world cast in a golden charm, a sweet and gentle surrender.

“It should only take a few more days before you can properly walk on it,” he stated, placing your leg on the grass once he’d finished. He averted his gaze from you, mindlessly staring at his front door, voice now lower. “You’re welcome to stay until then.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in return, eyes dancing across his stern side profile before your lip tugged upwards curiously. “Is this your way of apologizing to me?”

He scoffed, casting his cheek to you before laying on the ground beside you, a hand over his midsection as he pulled his hat over his face. “You talk too much.”

Wiggling your foot, you squinted your eyes as you eyed his careful patchwork. “You don’t talk enough.”

The next few minutes were silent, not stifling but easy. Like midsummer air.

You leaned back on your elbows, mere feet from Sukuna who’s breaths were slow and heavy. He must’ve fallen asleep.

It’d make sense. He’d had quite the day—you could only assume as a guy who chopped wood in his free time. 

The skyline past the pine trees was spun orange hues melting into an auburn red, and you think that right between them could’ve matched Sukuna’s stark hair. It seemed well-kept, which was surprising for a man living on his own in the forest.

The brush tickled your arm, and most people would’ve found it uncomfortable to be splayed out on itchy grass but you found an odd warmth in it. It smelled of honeysuckle and damp moss.

You couldn’t see the sun past his house, but you assumed it was falling and kissing the skies farewell for now. Praying to see another day as the stars would soon glitter the horizon.

You dropped your head, a few twigs prodding your scalp, but you didn’t move. 

You didn’t know how badly you’d needed quiet all this time.

Back home, you’d fall asleep to the bustling of late traffic and night owls, and awake to the early birds starting their day before they’d have their coffee and honk at each other like territorial mockingjays.

But now, all you could hear were the quiet chirps of canaries, the ticking of cicadas, and the steady breaths of the oaf beside you.

You glanced over, his hat covering his enter face, arms folded over his chest that lifted up and down rhythmically.

He was the kind of guy who’d have no issue falling asleep outside.

Uraume seemed to have given up on playing catch, calling it a night and pawing over to their dogshed.

It felt like you were the only person alive right now.

In your own little bubble, you were the only one to watch time patter on, not a single other pair of orbs to witness it.

Sun marked your bare calves, a soft burn that had every hair standing on edge as your  brain dazed into a summer night's musing. 

Your hand lifted over to the edge of his hat, carefully lifting it to take a peak.

Curling your fingertips against it, your slow deliberation worked in your advantage, earning a glance at Sukuna’s resting profile.

Those deeply marked creases that had been carved into him over time seemed to have come to rest, smoothing out his complexion into something gentler.

His jaw didn’t look clenched like it did whenever he was around you.

You wonder what he must be dreaming about. If he was dreaming.

However, your curious train of thought was quickly broken as you felt a pair of fingers wrap firmly around your wrist.

You let out a stifled yelp, flinching as your gaze followed Sukuna’s incredibly quick hand.

“What are you doing?” He grunted, expression hardening though he had yet to open his eyes.

“I- Uh—,” your heart thrummed in your chest, netted in the act of prodding once again to a man who forbade it so fervently. You needed to think quick. “You said you were going to show me something,” you whispered, voice mousy as you emphasized each word, confidence unraveling like caught thread.

He opened his eyes, casting his gaze over you. His arrant crimson irises flickered with something akin to fostered suspicion, before he loosened his firm grip and tugged his hat off. “Uh, yeah.”

You shivered, dropping your hand. 

You ignored the scars you saw littering his knuckles. 

Thankfully, his grip wasn’t tight or anything, just unmoving enough to make you jittery. 

Rule of thumb: Don’t touch Sukuna. Got it.

You dropped your head back onto the grass, your heart thumping along with the calls of the crickets as your trepidation came to a slow halt.

“You said you’re from the city, right?” He dragged a hand across his face, then tossed it behind his head to rest against.

“Oh, yeah. Lived in Yokohama all my life.”

He was quiet for a few moments, sight fixed on the sky blankly, before he spoke up. “You ever sky gazed before?”

You rested your hands against your stomach, peering over at him with a curious and pure gleam coloring you like a child had just been introduced to dinosaurs. “I’ve never had the chance to. Light pollution and all…” you trailed off, looking back at the sky with wonder. “Can you see stars from here?”

He hummed. “But not until the sun is down.”

And so the two of you waited. 

You’re not sure how long you did, lost in a quiet spell like you'd been placed in a doorway between reality and a tender dream.

All warm light drained, day sky devoured and replaced by a mix of blue and purple auroras to color the black canvas. Twinkling stars kissed midnight in white gleams.

Your lashes felt heavy, but your eyes were still full of intrigue and thrill.

For the first time since you could remember, you didn’t feel like the world was caving in on you. Like the world was just waiting for you to finally give in and be swallowed whole.

“I was invited to a wedding,” you blurted out, all sense of silence tucked beneath your tongue.

You couldn’t tell if Sukuna reacted, your eyes fixed on the flicker of a star.

Nevertheless, he stayed quiet.

“The invitation I received… it was from my ex-husband.” You breathed out, feeling your rigid shoulders droop.

A sinner perched in a confessional, misplaced and bitter and bruised. The only cold comfort was the moon tethered to the skies. 

”Ex-husband, huh?” He queried, voice a distant whisper.

“Yeah. Divorced last year.”

And this time, Sukuna stirred—turning his head in his palm to fix you with an incredulous stare you couldn’t see but feel burning you. “Yer kidding.”

You chuckled, though it was nothing short of dry and pitiful. “Seems he found himself a proper wife. Weddings’ not too long from now.”

Sukuna eyes bore into you, heavy and thick with judgement. “Okay, then. So what?”

Your eyes met his, shoulders caging up once more. “What do you mean ‘what’?”

He broke your stare, lazily shrugging his shoulders as he looked back up, eyes registering nothing between him as the cogs in his mind spun. “Why’s it matter what he does?”

You opened your mouth, defenses already loading themselves, before you paused. 

Why does it matter?

You found yourself staring at his side profile, fixed in nothing but displeasure despite his incredibly softening words.

You shouldn’t care—you could barely tolerate your ex-husband. And he clearly couldn’t tolerate you either. 

Sukuna didn’t push. He didn’t need to know your story before stumbling upon you in the forest. He only sees what he has to deal with before you’re healed and out the door.

It was true, it shouldn’t matter. But you couldn’t shake that off as easily. You lived it.

Regrettably, the life of a wife was still engraved into every fiber you were composed of, bleeding into each sorry part and staining it for everyone to witness. 

Or at least you thought. You wondered if everyone could see the chipped and cracked edges of you.

The grief had been so heavy, you had nowhere to place it—clung to you like a thick coat you couldn’t shed.

The years spent in a disgustingly loveless marriage to a sleazebag that looked at you like property, accused you and your womb of things no woman should hear. 

The proud look on your parents faces when they saw that you were finally settling down, done with the prancing around as an unmarried woman of your age.

And to a man with such status, they couldn’t believe it to be true. 

Neither could you. Not until you’d bore witness to his dull, true colors previously brightened with rose-tinted lenses.

You’d rushed into it—a rich, and dashingly charming man with dyed blonde hair. You’d been attracted to his arrogance, assuming it’d be tall enough to build the both of you up.

You were woefully wrong.

“So what’s your story?” You found yourself inquiring, worrying your lip between your teeth.

He scowled, nose scrunching as if he’d just smelled something putrid. “Not everyone’s got a sob story.”

You giggled, leaning on your palm as you watched him reject your entire being in real time. “You saying that is making me think you’ve got one,” you pushed with a grin, leaning closer.

His molars grinded against each other, wishing he could head inside and feed you to the wolves but it seemed the jagged edges of his common logic were frayed. “I ain’t got nothing to tell,” he growled, placing a hand against your looming face and shoving you away.

You gasped, but then began to paw off his claws with giggles, knowing you’d gotten under his skin. “How long have you lived here?” You started. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than you if anything, so it couldn’t have been too long.

“Long as I can remember,” he curtly replied.

Wow. “Alright, don’t have to go and tell me your whole life story,” you dryly and sarcastically taunted, itching your scalp in an attempt to ward off your irritation.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

You rolled your eyes, but still you were desperate for some conversation. “You get into a lot of fights?”

“Huh?”

You pointed at his knuckles, not even caring about your bluntness, to which he moved away as if you’d somehow burned him. “Your scars.”

He waited a beat before replying. “Something like that.”

You shrugged off his deflection with a ‘whatever,’ gaze lingering back towards the sky.

And like a magnet drawn to another, Sukuna felt oddly compelled to begin speaking. Yet, you beat him to the bush.

“I don’t think anyone noticed I got lost in the woods,” you whispered, hoping your quiet admission would disappear with the night.

Sukuna huffed indignantly, but you didn’t know what to make of it.

You brought a limp forearm to your face and casted it over your eyes lazily. “I wonder how long it’ll take for them to notice.”

Your tone was dry, but anyone could make out how defeated you sounded.

Sukuna’s mouth went dry, eyes dancing across the black canvas desperately. “Open your eyes.”

You groaned, tugging your arm off and glancing over at him. 

He lifted an arm, pointing at the sky. “Over there.”

You followed his direction, pointer finger directed at a cluster of stars hung gracefully. “What am I looking at?”

He huffed. “You're not the smartest cookie in the jar. It’s a constellation.”

You beamed at the information, brushing over how he’d just insulted you. “Wait, wait! Where?” You sat up on your elbows, eyes fixed on the spot he pointed out.

“Follow my finger,” he mumbled, fingertip drawing out the constellation before your eyes.

And you did, eyes dragging with his, a childlike wonder twinkling in your irises.

“That constellation is-“

“Lupus.” You interrupted in awe, mouth hanging open slightly as you cocked your head, able to make out the creature's shape.

Sukuna’s eyebrow arched, surprised at your knowledge.

You gazed down at his sudden silence, moonlight casting an ethereal glow on your features, a soft simper on your lips. “Not the smartest but definitely close.”

Sukuna’s brows furrowed, irked at your sarcasm despite every nerve in his body betraying him. “Not that close.”

You shrugged, facing the sky again and hugging your knees. 

Sukuna stared at your back, pulling his cigarette box from his pockets. He placed it between deft fingers, pulling it to his mouth before fumbling for his lighter and sliding his thumb against the spark wheel.

Within moments, the scent of smoke you easily could associate with Sukuna or the back alleys of Yokohama at night, wafted into your nostrils, making you scrunch your nose instinctively.

He hummed, the smoke billowing from his pursed lips.

“Give me one.”

Sukuna’s eyebrows raised. “City girl wants a smoker?”

You pushed air from your nose, unimpressed. “I just said that.”

He hesitated. “Have you ever smoked before?”

You remained quiet, shuffling uncomfortably.

Sukuna chuckled, low, enough to send goosebumps dancing across your bare skin that had nothing to do with a soft night chill. “Here.”

He sat up, shoving a hand into his pockets to dig out the box and handed you a cigarette. You held it awkwardly between your thumb and forefinger, eyeing it suspiciously and suddenly regretting your burst of confidence.

“It’s not gonna eat’cha,” he gruffed, jutting his chin at you.

You frowned, placing it between your lips.

“Cup your hands.”

You obeyed, curling them around the cigarette to avoid the breeze snuffing out the blaze.

He held the lit lighter against the butt, just for a few seconds. Enough for it to burn, sending smoke into your mouth and down your lungs.

You jerked away, coughing up a fit as it seared your insides, clinging to the lining of your esophagus and singeing the hairs in your nostrils.

Sukuna found an odd sense of humor in your distress. He took the cigarette from you and crushed it before tossing it somewhere, placing an arm behind your back on the grass and laughing to himself as his head lolled. “Not so bad, right?”

“The hell do you mean ‘not so bad?’” You retorted with a hoarse voice, wanting to dip yourself into a lake and clean yourself from the prints of smoking. “I feel like I just inhaled fumes.”

Sukuna cocked his head in thought, an uncharacteristic grin on his sharp features. “You technically kinda did.”

You glared up at him, the barely-there buzz from one hit tickling the edges of your psyche. 

Sukuna peered down at you, the distance between you suddenly shortened.

He hollowed out his cheeks, his cigarette hanging between his middle and forefinger, before he inhaled it sharply through his mouth and out of his nose.

His expression was unreadable, as if wheels were turning in his mind, possibly trying to understand you.

Your eyes swam with skepticism, just 24 hours with this man and you couldn’t understand him. “Why’d you let me stay with you?”

He didn’t falter, just blinked at you for a moment, before looking away. “Dunno.”

You frowned at his reticence, but nonetheless bit your lip. Most people would’ve just given you directions and sent you off with thoughts and prayers, not bothering to take you in the way he did.

If you hadn’t run into Sukuna, who’s to tell you wouldn’t be dinner to a pack of wolves for the next few days, a forgotten corpse turned into nothing but a bag of bones.

You couldn’t help but question what kind of person he was.

“Gets quiet out here,” he started up again, pulling his knees up just to toss his arms over them. “Just me and that mutt.”

You stared wide-eyed at his large form beside you, an odd ache in your chest at his admission. 

Who knows the last time he’d had a proper conversation with someone that wasn’t small talk at the work?

He peered over at you, his scowl flinching before he flicked his cigarette to the ground. “Fuck you makin’ that face for,” he grumbled.

You hadn’t even noticed the watery orbs you’d been giving him, shaking your head and wiping the backs of your hands on your eyes. “Shut up. I’m an empath.”

He snorted at that, wanting to shove your face again when he heard you sniffling. “You hungry?”

You nodded quickly, to which he rolled his eyes at.

He stood up, rising to his feet and dusting off his jeans. He grabbed his hat and jacket and strode back inside, you on his tail.

Shutting and locking the door behind you, you watched Sukuna’s form pace around the kitchen. Wandering over to the kitchen table, you plopped down and watched him work.

He’d grabbed his toaster from a cabinet, popping in a couple of chocolate chip Eggos from the freezer and searching for the pan you had used earlier that morning.

Your eyes felt heavy, the quiet clinking and clattering of Sukuna nearly lulling you to sleep, chin bobbing against your chest.

“Oi. Keep those eyes open, I’m not eating two servings,” he grunted, cracking a couple of eggs into the pan.

You adjusted in your seat, rubbing your eyes and yawning. When did it get so late?

Standing up, you wobbled over to the couch and laid down, nearly resigned to your exhaustion from cleaning all day. 

Sukuna peered over at you skeptically, not even realizing he had been quickening his movements as your eyes threatened to shut.

But it was inevitable, your lashes fluttering and your breath steadying.

Sukuna grumbled something, placing both full plates on the coffee table minutes later and looming over you with a chagrined expression.

Within moments, he was snapping his meaty fingers in front of your face, breaking you from your slumber.

You flinched, sitting up and feeling your head spinning. Grumbling, you rubbed your eyes and leaned your head against the back of the couch.

Sukuna plopped down beside you, shoving a plate of waffles and eggs into your hands as if the two of you hadn’t eaten pancakes that same morning.

You were too tired to complain.

With low lids, you brought the fork to your lips and began eating in slow and heavy movements, like your limbs were caught in black tar.

Sukuna eyed you warily, afraid that you’d fall asleep into your plate and you’d somehow stab your eye.

“Aye. City girl. Finish your food.” He cracked open a beer with one hand, tossing it back in just a few gulps. You studied the way his Adam’s apple bobbed while he guzzled it down.

Shuddering, you tossed him a sleepy scowl. “I’m full.”

He passed you a glass of water, grabbing your plate with his and heading towards the kitchen to set it down. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

You let out a small burp after a sip, quickly covering your mouth and tossing him an awkward glance before shuffling in your seat. “I’m going to need a refresher.”

You didn’t actually need one.

Sukuna inhaled sharply at your feigned ignorance, hands placed beside the sink as he stared down, before pushing off and running his fingers through his hair. “I’ll let you help out. Don’t need to wire me nothin’ when you get back.”

You chuckled, grabbing a shopping bag to pull out some pajamas he’d bought for you. A grey satin set that probably cost far too much but you didn’t complain, it’d definitely keep you warm. “Okay. Thanks for this, Sukuna.”

“Whatever.”

[strawbairicake]

stealin’ sweet kisses- various hsr characters x reader 

synopsis: playing the pocky game with your boyfriend! that’s it, send tweet. part 2! 

warnings: uh, none? other than that, idk if my beginner/novice writing counts as a warning. 

word count: 1.4k (oh lord, it’s longer than part 1!)

author’s note: part 1 did pretty well, so here's part 2 no one asked for! i’ll link part 1 here! no beta, we die like my favorite side characters in books! posting this after having a mental breakdown sure is the way to go, huh! disclaimer in part 1 that i'll include here: i genuinely don't know how to write kiss scenes at all! other than like a peck on the lips, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right… right? title was a suggestion from a mootie of mine for part 1, credits to them for the title (credits to you, Sage, lol!)! hope you enjoy! <3

tagging: @axolotsofluv, @sqgeism, @vyyper, @your-sleeparalysisdem0n, @cmiru, @unriding, @sheyfu, @threnodians. @strwbrydreamz, @chokifandom, @sillyseraphie, @riaruu, + @m1ckeyb3rry! lmk if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 

Anaxa: 

how you managed to get your lover to agree to this is beyond you. you just slid the box across his desk, then retreated to the cute reading nook in the home office. Anaxa gave you a skeptical look before sighing and making his way over to you. he sits on the ottoman your legs were resting on and he hands you a stick of pocky. 

“you wanted me to indulge in a game? fine. but make it quick, i have things to do.” he says as he rubs shapes on your thighs near your knees. yeah, he totally does not have the time to indulge you. what a loser (lovingly). but upon seeing the smile appear on your face after his confirmation, he thinks he’ll be sparing more time with you than he should. (he brought the whole box when he made his way over to you, by the way. he’s definitely whipped.)

 so you sat up in your chair, took the stick of pocky from his hand, and waited for him to be ready. he looked… nervous? the great Anaxagoras, reduced to a slightly blushing mess and slightly fidgety. the whole time you had been watching him, he was fidgeting with the box of pocky, and clearly avoiding eye contact with you. no matter, it’s whatever. you gesture him with a wave of your hand to come closer, and he sets the box of sweet treats next to him. part of the sweet treat he’s able to taste and as you lean closer, Anaxa cannot bring himself to look at you at all. you’d think for all his bravado he’d be able to do something as simple as holding eye contact but no. and as the stick breaks right in the middle, before either one of you can pull away, he cradles the back of your head with a hand and initiates a kiss. short and sweet before pulling away. now both of you look rather flustered. 

best to play the game again, no? 

Argenti: 

your lover agreed with no resistance and no questions asked... mostly! he seems rather excited to play this silly game with you, bless him. so here you both are, sitting in the living room of your home. a rare moment for Argenti to be with you given how often he travels. he leaves tomorrow, unfortunately, but you thought playing pocky with him could be a fun ritual you start doing the night before he leaves. granted, it makes it harder for Argenti to leave you in the morning, but seeing how giddy and happy it makes you both makes it worth it. so here you were on your sofa, a box of pocky in your hand as you explain (again, it’s been a while!) the rules of the game. 

“so the point is to get as close to the middle of the stick and not break it. we're supposed to kiss, i think,” you explained.

“so what happens if i break it?” he questions.

“you eat it, and we try again!” you reply excitedly. 

let the game begin. 

dear aeons, you never realized how good Argenti was at this game. he’s locked in, keeping eye contact, and being very sweet. if he senses you getting nervous, he breaks the stick off and waits for you to compose yourself before returning. and bless him, he’s so sweet and patient, that’s gotta mean something, right? 

so after you break the stick for the first time, before you lean back and can escape, he kisses you. nothing rough or mean, almost as light as a peck, but it’s just a bit more. right as you begin to reciprocate, he pulls away, leaving you wanting more. 

you know the game he’s playing, and you can see the slightly mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks at you. 

“one more time, beloved?”

Boothill:

always on the run, you both are. always getting into some kind of trouble. except this time, the trouble in question is a game of pocky and doesn’t seemingly have any consequences. which is good, you both need a break from the run and chase you’re constantly on. now that you think about it, maybe being in an alleyway in penacony wasn’t your brightest move. anyone could see you both and report you. not that common folk would, but people who know about you and Boothill might. just a hunch. but you were in a dark alleyway, Boothill leaning against the wall, his legs spread just a bit, and you were standing in between his legs, just chatting. and Boothill was trying so hard to pay attention, but he noticed the box of pocky in your pocket. 

“what’s the box for, sweetheart?”

“boredom, mostly… also i need sugar.”

“don’t know how ya’d need it if we’re on the run. and i'll give ya some sugar,” he winked. you rolled your eyes at the latter comment. 

“i mean for after the adrenaline wears off…” you mutter. your lover chuckles at the faux pout you started making after your previous statement. he places a hand on your hip and fishes through your pocket and gets the box of pocky out. 

“up for a little game?”

“Boothill, we're literally supposed to be running right now,” you deadpan. he laughs.

“you don’t know how to have fun, sweetheart! just one round, i promise,” he replies. 

and so the game begun. he pulls a stick out of the pack and places one part in his mouth and you place the other part in your mouth. as you inch closer, one of Boothill’s hands remains at your hip while the other one rests on the back of your neck. the cool metal of his arm makes you tilt your head up impossibly more. you reach the middle of the stick and instead of a quick peck, it’s a passionate kiss. he cradles your head so you can’t let go just yet, and he notices you’re quite ready to let go either. give or take a few seconds, you tap his robotic chest with your finger, a sign to let you breathe. you both part. the tips of his ears are a bit pink and you look a bit flushed. you’re just about to get comfortable in the silence you both have before hearing a loud  “freeze!” which makes you both turn your heads.

guess you’re back on the run.

Mydei: 

a rough mission kinda brought you down. and sometimes when you’re down, you’ll head to the marketplace in Okhema just to see if anything interesting is there. and wouldn’t you know it, a seller was giving out a box of pocky with every purchase! you bought a couple of baking ingredients and got your free box of pocky, and honestly? made your bad day a lot better, which was really nice. so when you got home and saw Mydei on the couch in the living room on his teleslate (literally it’s a phone, why do they call it that, ew), you thought nothing of it. you head to the kitchen and unload the few baking supplies you purchased: sugar and flour. it wasn’t a lot, and you didn’t need help putting it away. you knew that Mydei would come and help you put the couple of groceries away anyway (he always did, it was an unspoken agreement between the two of you for whatever reason.). so after you unload the flour and sugar, you sit on the counter and open the box of pocky you got. it was your favorite flavor too, how nice! as you do, Mydei comes in between your legs and watches as you fiddle with the box and bag inside. he wordlessly takes the bag from your hands, opens it, and pulls a stick out.

“what is this for?” he looks skeptically at the flavored treat, which makes you laugh slightly. 

“you take one portion of the stick in your mouth, your partner does the same. then you essentially get as close as you can without breaking the stick. the goal is to kiss, i think. but i also eat this by myself,” you reply after a moment’s hesitation. 

and without instruction, Mydei places part of the stick he took out into his mouth and gestures for you to do the same. so you do, you’re not an idiot to refuse him, especially if he’s offering! you both lean in and while the stick breaks pretty close to the middle, Mydei doesn’t pull away. he kisses you briefly before pulling away. he looks at you and smirks a bit.

“wanna try again, or are you going to quit? i thought the goal was to not break it.”

oh it’s SO on now. 

©2025 strawbairicake. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

[bebethsas]

(copying the tags up here, b/c I wrote them first, and you need them for a little context for how I got here)

#oh...oh they were *made* for this #Cait as the daughter of a lord (in this case Lady) #with her pretty fancy dresses #and perfect marksmanship #and Vi who can drink any sailor under the table as well as win whatever brawl that breaks out #cait joining the royal navy “for experience”

wait, no, shit, ohmygod, this just keeps spiraling outward in my head and I'm thinking faster than I can type--

okay, so Cait--joined the navy for experience, honorary title, one part sailor, one part royal guard

Powder/Jinx--supposedly lost at sea, became a sea-witch / captain of her own lone ship; known for isolated attacks, her dingy comes out of nowhere and wrecks whole ships, then slips away unnoticed

Silco--owner of pirate ship, his home/place of power is Jinx's homebase, has his own sector/ set-up on Pirate Island (think 'Tortuga'). (Edit: One part shelter, one part adopted father-figure for Jinx, but it's more of an allyship (she wrecks ships for him, and ships for herself; she does what she wants, and sometimes it lines up with what Silco wants.))

Jinx takes down Jayce's ship, she kidnaps him in the scuffle and holds him for ransom on Pirate island (which is under Silco's control, or most of it is under his control? Either works). Jayce manages to escape, but is injured in the attempt and forced to hide before he can truly *leave* the island, and is saved/ taken in by Viktor, a merman. They bond over a love of science and inventing and magic (and obvi fall in love, that's a given)--yes, Jayce is the prince, but his passion still lies in studying the Arcane and trying to "bring magic to the world." Viktor is the first person in his entire *life* who not only completely understands him (and his passion), but shares his vision.

Viktor--insanely clever, sarcastic, remarkable, and inventive merman with damaged fins on one side (one was a congenital defect--like Nemo's "lucky fin", and one was torn and healed successfully but the scar tissue still affects his movement). Took a 'cure' from Singed years ago (in order to either improve his weak fin, or so that he could temporarily join the human world and learn more about them, b/c yes, just like Ariel, he's fascinated and curious about humans and all the potential knowledge they may hold), and is now 'cursed' to be a human (with a disabled leg and hurt spine) during the day, and his true self at night. That's how he and Jayce meet--Jayce managed to limp/crawl his way down to the docks, but collapsed in front of Viktor's 'house' (he has a shack/storefront right on the water). Viktor realized who he is and his significance and why Jayce begged Viktor to hide him, and did so.

Jayce doesn't find out that Viktor's a merman for about a month (Viktor hides it from him as best he can). All Jayce knows is that he's living in his new friend Viktor's house, and that Viktor is a little cagey about things (and yeah he's curious, but he's not going to pester the man who saved his life, and demand that he tell him all his secrets), and at night he's visited by this enigmatic, mysterious 'thing' from the water. It's always too dark for him to see what they look like, he just knows that it has fins and scales and human hands, and once, he swore that he saw a pair of glowing amber-colored eyes.

And then, after a month, he knows that it has human lips too. And that whatever-it-is is a great kisser. But he's torn b/c he feels drawn to this mysterious Thing (his night-visitor), but he's also falling for Viktor during the day, and it's all confusing. (It also doesn't help that before all of this, he thought he only liked women?? But now...??? Whatever, it doesn't matter, he doesn't care, he doesn't need labels, all that matters is that he's in love with Viktor...as well as this other thing. And he can't choose between them, but he knows he has to.)

(Before you ask, Viktor wears tinted glasses during the day, yes even indoors, in order to hide his eyes--from everyone, not just Jayce. His eyes are too bright to be human, and they give him away.)

ANYWAY, where was I?? Oh, right.

So, Caitlyn is in the royal guard, right? She's also Jayce's best friend (or at least, his closest friend). She feels responsible for his kidnap, and swears 1) to get him back safe and sound, and 2) get revenge on Jinx (maybe Cassandra Kirammen died in the accident)

So, she needs to partner with someone who knows pirate island. Someone who blends in, someone who can help her sneak in undetected, someone who isn't affiliated with any of the major pirate clans on the island.

There's a rumor of a pink-haired pirate rogue. Someone who can get the job done for you. Someone wo knows this place in and out.

Cait finds Vi at a bar. Vi agrees to help her (Vi works alone, she's worked alone for *years*, she has one small sailing ship that she runs herself--formerly 'The Brawler', now named 'Vander' after her late father. She escaped onto the boat after an accident--mabe they crashed? Maybe they got caught in a storm?--where Claggor, Milo, and Vander were killed, and Powder presumed dead. the explosion killed Claggor, Milo, and Vander, and tore apart Vi and Powder, and has been surviving on it ever since. She was never thrown into Stillwater--she's not affiliated with any major pirate clan, but Zaunites--most of them, anyway--would rather protect one of their own rather than let Piltie enforcers snatch up a kid. She also fights in the ring and earns money that way. She regrets rejecting her sister after the accident, but Powder disappeared before Vi could make amends. So she gets by by running odd jobs for people, being a heavyweight for hire, and fighting in the ring (and earning a cut of the profits), while keeping an eye out for a girl with blue hair mourning the loss of her whole family. Her motives for helping Cait? On the face of it, the sooner that prince is found, the better (Zaun doesn't need *more* trouble). But really, she also wants Caitlyn's help to find her sister. Cait may want vengeance on Jinx (and the lives lost at sea thanks to her attack), but Vi hopes that she can still save her sister. (Edit: She doesn't know if Jinx is her sister or not, she's going off of hope and a hunch. She's heard rumors of a blue-haired wildcard who terrorizes the seas, and after all, Powder's body was never found...) Also Cait is really, really hot, and really, really pretty. (And really, REALLY Vi's type.)

(went back and made edits--hence all the strikethroughs--b/c I reread my original vision for Jinx at the top and liked it better.)

Viktor's shack is at one end of the island, and Vi's boat is docked on the other side. (So while she and Cait are scouring around Silco's territory, Jayce is hiding out with Viktor on the other side. Vi doesn't know Viktor, but she's heard of him, and not by name. All she knows is that there's a rumor of a weird inventor guy who lives at the edge of the island, who can fix just about anything--mechanical or medical--but usually gadgets. Vi doesn't know Jayce, so it wouldn't occur to her to check out the person whose job/ interests would be like catnip for him XD.)

(yes, Heimerdinger is King, yes he's still a yordle, no Jayce isn't really his son, just his chosen successor. Yes, he's king but he lets the Council decide how to run things--at this point, he's retired and only a King in name. He's having too much fun going off and exploring things incognito

The Firelights have their own secluded island a few clicks away from the pirate island; they raid ships but they save lives too. Thanks to the currents surrounding the island, it's near-impossible for anyone to randomly wash-up on their shores, so you have to be independently brought onto the island by an existing resident, who knows how to navigate the waters. Also no one can manipulate their way onto the island by earning a Firelight's trust b/c no one knows that the island even exists. Ekko runs it--like in canon--and is pretty close to his canon counterpart

ohmygod I almost forgot about Mel! Mel: ally, foreign princess, going through her own personal shit outside of Jayce being kidnapped and Zaunite internal power-struggles, discovers she has powers, has to go through her own personal journey of discovery in the *wake* of said discovery. Friends with Jayce, and engaged, but it's more of a smart political move than out of romantic love (they love each other and are lovers (sexually) and could be fairly content with one another, but they're not in love with each other, and their relationship would've started to fall apart at their first major argument). (Basically, if Jayce had never been kidnapped, and had never met Viktor, then he would have gladly married Mel--not knowing what he was missing out on--and, while not feeling happy, would have felt content. But that contentment would have been weak--not fragile, just weak. Because it would only take one conflict--Mel makes a decision that goes against Jayce's beliefs, such as a decision that ignores people in need, or takes advantage of them, or is just too selfish for Jayce's moral code--to shake Jayce's perfect relationship. And once that trust was broken, the cracks would only spread.)

Yes obviously she's still beautiful and charming and glamorous and cunning and strategic, with a kind, gentle side. (Lol, compared to all the others, Mel--and her story--changes the *least*. Okay, everyone else except Ekko. And Jinx, technically. ...also Silco? ... ...okay, I'm realizing that the only people whose stories and circumstances have really *changed* in this AU are Caitvi and Jayvik.)

The fissures run in cracks through the island, and are also cracks in the seafloor than form a natural reef just off the coast, and should be a source of nutrients for marine and human life alike (and traditionally, they were just that), but Piltover's been polluting them for decades, contaminating them and turning them into a source of harm instead of health.

one more thing about Jinx: she blames herself for the wreck that killed her family, it was her fault they were out at sea when the storm hit, she didn't know that Vi survived, so she thought that she lost her whole family and that it was her fault. Silco found her floating on a piece of wreckage from 'The Felicia', took her in, gave her a place to stay, helped her get on her feet. She wrecks ships, but is tormented by the ghosts of her past. She doesn't let anyone get close b/c she's a 'jinx'--anyone who gets close to her gets hurt. She has her own secluded cove.

caitvi in the pirate au

[spicy30]

Vampire

Remmick's reaction/interaction with different speices of vampire (TDV Vampire)

Warnings: Gore

Tags:@themorriganisamonster

-He’d probably first meet you when you’re hunting, and unbeknownst to him, he’s ruined AND taken your meal.

Remmick ran towards the door. Wouldn’t be long till the Choctaw reach him. So he pounded on the door, a story already formulating in his head to have whatever poor souls have the fortune of being in his path, to let him in and hide him from the Choctaw.

“Help!” He pounded on the door yelling for help. The steam from the burns would go away soon enough. He looked back. 

Damn! 

How long does it take to open a damn door? 

Remmick heard as the door knob slowly twisted and the door creaked open. “Y’all—” only there was no y’all, only you. Pretty little thing, out goes his story about an abducted wife. What should he say now? Or doesn’t matter? You’ll be like him soon enough. “You gotta help me…” In the practiced motion of having his hands have a slight quiver and breathing hard all to communicate in the way the human body does, just for little ole you to let him in. 

“I-I thought I could trust them, but…” Remmick went through the motions. He wasn’t all scared. It was sundown. He’d be able to take them soon enough. “They—they tried to kill me.”

“You okay? Seems like they got you pretty good.” It was the first words he heard from you. How kind. This would be simple enough. 

“Ah god.” Remmick laid on thick the theatrics. You seemed nice enough. You’d let him in soon enough, but it never hurts to be thorough. So he kneeled as his hands trembled, pushing some of his loose hair out of his face. 

Though just as he was about to speak, to really seal the deal, you stopped him. Instead you too knelt in front of him with a smile. “You look really hurt, why don’t you come on in and I’ll help patch you up.”

No need for a captured wife. Remmick nodded at your words trying to hide his little smirk that had found his way onto his face as you took his hand in yours helping him and ushering him into the house. As soon as he stepped in, there was no need for his limping. He was nearly all healed anyways.

You almost—almost made him second guess himself, though that was before he saw a white hood. 

Damn. 

- You made a hobby of hunting, killing, and eating Klans members. You had gotten to Bert and Joan before Remmick did. Unfortunately for Remmick, he doesn’t know that just yet.

There was a sense of disappointment in him. Such a pretty, and kind young thing all wasted on such bigotry. S’alright, he’d rectify you soon enough—and judging by the silverware you held—your husband as well.

You had left him in the kitchen when the knocks came. As you turned your back he left to find your husband. Strangely enough, Remmick found him in a rocking chair. He didn’t react to him. Odd. He just stared.

Remmick stepped closer keeping his ears trained as you stepped outside to talk to the Choctaw. He expected the ignorant words that were sure to come from you, but oddly enough, you sounded normal. Not angry, not prejudicial, none of the things he’d heard before. 

Was Remmick sure he saw that white hood?

Ensuring you weren’t coming in anytime soon he bent down to look at the man who had no expression, though the trained eyes on him let Remmick know that he was aware he was there. Was he paralyzed?

How lucky he came along to help. 

-I think when he turns Bert (Bc Joan is dead, dead ash. Eaten three days prior) he gets the memories, but when the compulsion from you starts in play, Remmick can’t see anything because it's no longer Bert commissioning those thoughts or actions, ergo, not his memories. Though I think they would resurface once Bert makes a full transition (dies or drinking human blood, idk, one of those two.)

It all came flooding into Remmick’s mind as who he now knows is Bert fell to the floor bleeding. The man never screamed, or moved. Simply let Remmick feed. First time it’s ever happened.

Slowly the memories trickled in. Played like a movie in front of him. Childhood, his uncle, his first wife, buying a home with his wife, the meetings and executions they both participated in, and their most recent venture, trying for a child. Explains the crib. 

It all looked so recent. 

There was a knock on the door. Bert watched Joan open the door. On the outside you were there standing with a smile. Annoyance and disgust surged within.

“You're not welcomed here. Go on now, best take your leave fore’ sundown.” Bert heard Joan speak. He stood up going to go get the shotgun. Though when he turned around, he found you inside and Joan with a blank look on her face. 

Everything was clear here. You had popped out of the blue one day and came a knockin’ though after that, things started to get patchy. As if certain parts of the memories had been cut out. Remmick furrowed his brows as he sat down on the chair Bert once sat. 

Things have gotten strange since you were let into the house. They didn’t want you here. Your kind isn’t worth their time. So why were you still here? Still eating their food, still sleeping in their bed. 

Though it all came to a halt one night. Bert felt as Joan stood up and walked from their room. It was late. Bert ignored it, until he couldn’t. Gurgling and hitched breaths woke him. Slowly Bert walked to the kitchen. 

“Bert—” 

The memory cut off and Remmick focused again trying to play further into the memory. Nothing came up. 

Bert sat down on his chair outside and watched as you drank some juice. It was red, a drop slid from your mouth and just before it dropped to your shirt, you caught it with your finger and sucked it before turning and giving him a toothy smile.

A deep, resounding, hor—

It cut again and this time Remmick turned to look at the man as he slowly began to move again. His ears focused on the door that closed. 

You walked past the room. Your silhouette is darker than the dark house.

There was another break in the memory just as footsteps sounded.  

You stepped into the room. Your little nightgown left little to the imagination. Eyes adjusted. You had stains on the side of your mouth. Small whimpers left Bert’s closed mouth. The stains were dark, no color visible.

You took his hand and used it to clean the stuff on your face. It was sticky. 

Bert was breathing heavily now. Eyes wide, pupils dilated trying to absorb the little light, the whites of his eye on full display, just like prey in the wild. 

He gave a small shake and you only nodded. His mouth opened as his hand was brought closer and closer. There was a cry that sounded from him. It was loud, too loud for this time of night. 

“Shh—”

The memory is cut off for the final time.  

-Just like in TDV when they get their memories back from being under compulsion, I think the same happens here, but Remmick won’t get access to those memories until Bert drinks blood. Remmick is very offput but the situation and is very much confused, though you were the wife, turns out you weren’t. You the side piece? 

Remmick looked at you. You had your eyes on Bert. “Oh he’s just restin’” 

As if on command Bert began to stand up, his eyes were still wide as he stumbled back pressing himself against the wall. His eyes never leave you. Remmick didn’t let his mask fall, though he was thoroughly confused. 

You simply stood at the door looking at him. Looking as if this were some huge inconvenience. “Y’know, it’s often considered rude when you take things that aren’t yours, especially when you’re a guest in a home.” You stepped forward and Remmick only watched, he felt the fear Bert felt. It was starting to mess with him. “Mi casa is not your casa and my food certainly isn’t yours.”

Yeah, Bert’s fear was messing with him, hard. Remmick did nothing when you leaned down to look him in the eyes, Remmick did nothing when your fingers ghosted over his arm, Remmick did nothing as tried to clean the blood from his face. Remmick did nothing as he heard the stretch and tear of old muscle being reused, Remmick could do nothing as suddenly hopped on him biting into his neck. 

He tried hard to push you off, but you were stronger. His claws pierced your back and only then did you let go. You were groaning in pain as Remmick willed Bert to bite into you. He tore his claws out of you as Bert squeezed you as he drank your blood. Soon enough your were thrown to the side. Arms bent out of shape.

-Just due to the nature of you attacking him first, his first priority is to kill you before you can kill him, though it’s not gonna work out for him. TDV vampires have better stats than he does from what I saw in the movie. 

You stood back up with alarming speed—so fast Remmick’s eyes barely caught the motion. He’d never seen anything like it. And just as quickly, your body had begun to reset itself, bones slipping back into place as if by sheer will alone.

“I’ve been hunting him and his wife for a long time,” you said, voice low, eyes narrowed. “I don’t take kindly to others stealin’ my work.”

“Wasn’t my intention,” Remmick replied evenly. And it wasn’t. He hadn’t meant to steal and turn your prey—it had just happened. He was building something. Numbers. Power. The structure of a future. “I’m just buildin’ numbers.”

“Why him?” you spat, a flicker of disgust crossing your face. “You saw where he came from. That neighborhood’s a sickness. They’re a plague, and he don’t deserve to live forever.”

As you spoke, Bert moved behind you—slow, cautious—gripping a splintered leg of the broken chair. Remmick clocked the movement but didn’t react.

“Past don’t matter,” Remmick said quietly, his eyes steady on you. “Bigoted or not. They all change once I get to ’em.”

You scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. “You’re welcome to join,” he offered, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’ll be all better once I save them all.”

“And end my food source?” You tilted your head, eyes glinting. “Nah.”

Remmick let out a short breath through his nose. “Well,” he muttered, shrugging as Bert threw the wooden stake. “I tried.”

-Would try harder, but you are actively trying to kill him and a hivemind won’t work on you. 

You gasped, arching forward as the wooden stake lodged into your back. Staggering, you dropped to your knees, hands clutching the wound.

Remmick stepped forward, stake in hand, the point aimed at your heart. What a shame, he thought—could’ve been nice to have you. But just as he moved to strike, you twisted. The stake plunged into your shoulder instead.

You groaned through gritted teeth.

Remmick ripped it out, ready to finish it. But this time, you were faster. You caught his arm mid-swing and hurled him across the room. He crashed into the crib, splintering it to pieces.

Bert moved in, yanking the stake from your back, but before he could drive it home, you turned, caught his arm, and flung him clean through the wall. He landed outside in the dark.

Remmick, groaning, picked up jagged shards of the broken crib and threw them at you. The first one lodged into the wall beside your head. The second? You caught it midair.

You didn’t hesitate. You flung it back. Remmick ducked, but not fast enough—it nicked off a chunk of his ear. He cursed, clutching the bleeding side of his head.

Bert was back. Again. Charging from behind. Again. You twisted his arm and slammed him into the floorboards with enough force to make the wood splinter.

He didn’t stay down.

With a shout, he lunged, stake rising from below. You caught his arm, turned the weapon back toward him. He tried to stop it—reaching up with his other hand—but it was useless. You were too strong.

Then—Remmick.

His arms wrapped around your throat in a headlock. You slammed back, both of you crashing to the floor.

Bert went for the kill, bringing the stake down.

You twisted just in time—Remmick took it instead.

He screamed. Bert screamed.

You blinked. “That’s weird.” In one motion, you flung Remmick off and drove Bert into the wall again. He groaned.

Remmick tore the stake from his gut.

So you reached into Bert’s chest and ripped out his heart.

Remmick stood, breathing hard, blood soaking his shirt. He looked at you and laughed under his breath, raising his hands in surrender.

-Stage three, bargaining.

“Now…” Remmick took a step back as you dropped the heart with a wet thud. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

“Oh, now you want an agreement?” you asked, grinning, blood still coating your teeth. You nodded slowly, eyes locked on his. “Alright. You help me track down anyone I want. I’m still hungry. Might take a bite or two of you. Best find another Klan member—and fast.”

“I can take you to his uncle,” Remmick offered quickly. “The grand dragon.”

You narrowed your eyes. “How would you know that?”

“I can see memories,” he said flatly, trying not to flinch beneath your stare.

“No, you can’t,” you said, stepping forward.

“I can,” Remmick insisted, holding his ground.

You tilted your head. “If yer lyin’ to me…” Your voice dropped. “I’ll rip your heart out and eat it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, managing a tight, nervous smile.

-And so it began. A little adventure. I would assume you have a daylight ring and the first time he sees you open a door he thinks you're crazy.

“What are you doing?” Remmick asked sharply, eyes narrowing as he saw your hand resting casually on the doorknob. Had you lost your mind? The sun was up. You’d burn alive.

He’d just helped you turn the Grand Dragon for the memories, while you feasted on the man’s wife like she were a fresh kill. You drained his children next, squeezing them dry and storing their blood in mason jars like preserves. Once the memories were extracted, it hadn’t taken you long to rip the Klan leader’s head clean off.

Now the two of you were supposed to be hiding from the sun. Or so Remmick thought.

“Going out,” you said over your shoulder, like it was nothing. “I want to take a look at this place. We’ll be staying here a while—at least till I finish off whatever blood I’ve stored.”

You gestured loosely toward the kitchen. “They’re in the fridge if you get hungry. Don’t drink it all.”

Then, without ceremony, you opened the door. Remmick hissed and staggered back, flinching away from the light as it flooded the room. But you?

You stepped into it.

The sunlight bathed you head to toe—and nothing happened. No smoke, no fire, no shrieking agony. Just the subtle gleam of your lapis lazuli ring catching the light.

You turned back and gave him a slow, amused smile before walking out, leaving Remmick behind in the shadows.

-I think it continues like that. He discovers new things about you on the road and vice versa. Most likely his favorite trick of yours is compulsion because it’s so similar to what he has. 

“Gosh, that is such a nice hat,” you said brightly, stopping a woman in her tracks as you both passed by on the way to your next meal.

The woman blinked, flattered. “Thank you.”

You gave her a warm smile—charming, disarming. “I want it.” A beat passed.

“Well, it’s mine, so…” She turned to walk away, but you reached out and gently caught her arm. Remmick, a few paces behind, tilted his head as he watched your eyes meet hers.

Your pupils dilated, voice soft but firm. “I think you should give it to me.”

The woman’s face slackened. “I should give it to you,” she murmured, almost dreamlike. She removed the hat and handed it over with no further resistance.

You beamed, slipping it on with a small flourish before turning to Remmick and giving him a spin. “Goes well with the dress, don’t it?”

He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing with curiosity. He still didn’t fully understand how your ability worked, but something about it felt eerily similar to his own hive—just tuned to a different frequency.

“Can you just do that to anyone, then?” Remmick asked, glancing sideways as the two of you walked down the dusty road toward your next meal.

You shook your head, adjusting the brim of your new hat. “No. Wouldn’t work on you. Only the living.”

Remmick gave a slow nod, processing that. “Even then?”

You smiled faintly. “There’s a flower. If they drink it, wear it, even touch it, I can’t compel them.”

His brows furrowed. “Why?”

You shot him a look. “Why does garlic work on you?”

“Strong smells,” he muttered. “It’s antibacterial. Vampirism—mine, anyway—is a sort of infection. That’s why it burns.”

“Hmm,” you mused. “Well, I don’t know why the flower works. Probably has something to do with the Originals.”

Remmick slowed his steps. “Originals?”

You nodded, casually. “World’s first vampires. Oldest. Can’t be killed. True immortals.”

“How old?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “’Bout eight hundred to a thousand, give or take. I only met them once. Wasn’t pretty. Not too keen on doing it again.”

Remmick scoffed, puffing his chest just a little. “I’ve got about two hundred years on that.”

You let out a sharp laugh, tilting your head back slightly as the breeze toyed with the edge of your new hat. The sound was airy, almost musical—if not for the bite underneath it.

“Well,” you said, looking at him out the corner of your eye, “you’re really weak for such an old vampire. Our rule goes: the older we are, the stronger we get. I beat you pretty easily.”

Remmick bristled beside you, jaw tightening. “I put up a good fight,” he muttered, not quite looking at you.

You raised an eyebrow, your smile curling like smoke. “Not how I remember it,” you said, voice soft but smug.

His eyes narrowed. “I got a stake into you, didn’t I?” he shot back, his tone sharper now, the words hitting with a little more weight.

You stopped walking and turned toward him slowly, hands on your hips. “And I ripped your buddy’s heart out, didn’t I?”

The smile never left your lips, but your eyes had cooled—flat and glittering like sunlit glass. “If that was your best, Remmick… I’d hate to see your worst.”

He didn’t think that was funny.

-I think after enough time, a friendship would form between the both of you or something teetering on the line of friends with benefits—but definitely friendship in there. I think a favorite bonding time of his would be observing differing vampire features. Then overtime, maybe, just maybe you’d be more receptive to his ideals. 

“Lemme see em’” The blues of his eyes turned red and you smiled looking at him. You leaned over him as he slouched on a sofa. A lazy smile played on his lips. “They’re pretty.”  His legs spread wide so you could stand in between them. 

“I like yours.” His clawed hand moved to cradle your cheek as you closed one of your eyes. Remmick felt the way the veins felt under his touch. Like the way the stretch of tissue sounded as if it was being used for the first time in decades, like the way your scleras turned a deep red. He liked it all. 

Finally you moved, going to straddle him as your hands found their way to his lips, prying his mouth open. You watched in glee as his teeth shifted, their edges growing jagged like shattered bone. The transformation was fluid, practiced—meant to intimidate. But you only grinned wider, matching him fang for fang as your own canines stretched long and curved.

“Yours are sharper than mine,” you murmured, voice low and almost reverent. You reached out, fingers gliding lightly along the edge of his teeth. A thin stream of blood welled from your fingertip and dripped into his mouth.

Remmick’s eyes darkened as he tasted it. “Don’t mean yours don’t hurt,” he rumbled, his voice no longer singular—layered now, reverberating like a chorus of the damned.

Your smile bloomed, wide and full of wicked delight. That voice. You loved that voice. The way it rolled through the air, heavy with all the lives he’d swallowed, the souls whispering inside him.

“You have cooler powers than me,” you said, almost wistfully.

“You’re stronger,” he countered, tilting his head. “And I can’t compel nobody.”

“You can fly,” you shot back, as if that settled it.

Remmick only laughed, deep and ragged, like something ancient and buried trying to surface.

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

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[zepskies]

UNRAVEL ME - Part 4

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Afro-Latina!Reader

Summary: In the wake of Vought Tower finally falling, you find yourself crossing paths with Soldier Boy. Rogue, weakened, dangerous, and hunted, he needs a place to hide. You’re not about to offer up your own home to shelter a supe wanted by Homelander and the CIA…but he’s also not going to let you refuse.

AN: Here we go! Another big step in their adventure...

Song Inspo: “Mi Muchachita” by Luis Segura (English lyrics)

Word Count: 8.8K

Tags/Warnings: Fake dating (lol), meet the family, some old-school machismo, Dominican food, bachata, “North Cuba” (Miami), angst, rom-com vibes

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Part 4: Food & Family

After driving through the loops of highway along I-95, Ben grows frustrated at the thirty or so signs of exits that lead to different parts of the city. One wrong turn, and it could send you miles away from where you were—even over the bridge to Miami Beach.

You consult the GPS on your iPad, since your new “burner” phone is just an old-style flip phone. 

You’re able to point him where to go to get to the airport. He finally takes the right exit, but he pulls off the highway split, off the main road, and heads into the alley of a side street.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

He doesn’t answer you, just pulls to a stop and shifts the car into park.

“It’s been fun, sweetheart, but I think it’s time we part ways here. I’ve got a couple errands to run before I get the fuck out of here,” he says.

You consider him shrewdly. “Errands? What the hell do you mean? How’re you gonna even get a plane ticket? You don’t have any money…”

And it dawns on you. You suck in a breath, then you glare at him.

“What’re you going to do, Ben?”

“That’s my fucking business, all right?”

“What’re you gonna do, knock over a bank? Kill a few people on your way out?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, sweetheart,” he says. He looks at the darkening alley ahead rather than at you. He’s keeping an eye out for anyone that might spot you two in the car, until you lean over and lay a hand on his forearm.

“Ben,” you say. “Look, I’ll pay for your ticket.”

His brows crunch together. “I don’t want your fucking money, all right?”

You hesitate. Now that’s a first. But you still take your hand back to start digging into your purse for your wallet. He reaches out and stops you with a big, warm hand over yours. Firm.

“You hear what I fucking said?” he snaps.

You just sigh. “Ben, breaking into a bank—”

“Doesn’t have to be a fucking bank.”

“All right, a store! Either way, that might raise a few alarms, don’t you think?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Ben says. His gaze cuts away from you and toward the city behind you both.

Suddenly, it hits you. This is it. No more of this asshole being a human crater exploding into your life. 

But it’s also kind of hard to imagine him getting on that plane alone, fucking off to obscurity again. You bite your lip while considering him. It feels like a waste.

“What if…what if you stay and fight?” you say. “Fight off Homelander. Expose him for the piece of shit he is.”

Ben’s steely expression just hardens further. “I’m done talking about that frosted hole. Whatever formula they mixed him with in that fucking lab, it didn’t come out of my ball sack.” 

You roll your eyes. God, he’s so gross. “Ben. For God’s sake. Don’t deflect—”

“You do realize I have the FBI, the CIA, and the whole rest of the alphabet soup on my ass, right?” he says. Finally, he looks at you. “They don’t want me here. They didn’t even try to find me when the fucking Commies… So no. Fuck ‘em. I’ll make new somewhere else.”

It’s truly incredible, considering how damn angry you were at him yesterday. Angry and afraid.

Now, you begin to feel a twinge of…concern. Yes, he’s arrogant and vulgar, selfish, and more than a bit of a dick at times. He’s killed people, whether on accident or on purpose, even if it was partially for your sake. But after last night, getting just a glimpse of what he went through, you wonder if he really deserves to be run out of the country. 

I may regret this, but…

“Listen,” you begin. “It’s getting late. Do you want to have dinner with me and my family? You’ll get some good food, one more night States’ side.”

Ben looks just as surprised by your offer as you are to suggest it. His lips begin to quirk upward, albeit incredulously.

“You offering to be my tour guide?” he asks.

You give him a knowing look. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s just dinner. Nothing else.”

You raise a finger, gesturing at him to hold on a second, and you grab your phone to call your mom first. She’s easier to talk to than your father, who would probably bombard you with questions about the trip and why it was taking you so long to get home.

“Hello?” your mom answers.

“Hey, it’s me,” you reply.

“Why are you calling from this weird number? Did something happen to your phone? Is that why you haven’t been answering our calls?”

“Yeah, sorry, I lost my phone and had to get a replacement,” you lie on the fly. You’ve had to get good at it over the past week. “I made it to Miami though. I’m almost home.”

“Oh, that’s great! Meet at Mamá’s house though. We’re making dinner right now,” she says.

You smile. Looks like Ben is going to get to meet your grandma too. “Really? Oh, okay. We’ll meet you there then.”

“We? Who’s we?”

“Oh, I’m uh…bringing a friend,” you say, though your face begins to heat in a blush at the way Ben smirks at you.

“A friend, huh?” your mom asks, in a suspicious tone.

“Yeah, okay see you soon!” You hang up the phone before she can ask you any more questions. Sometimes she can be as bad as your dad. You shift your attention to Ben.

“Okay, let’s switch seats. I think it’ll be easier if I drive,” you say.

He raises a skeptical brow at you. “Where are we going?”

You offer him a smile. “Oh, just wait. You’re in for a good time.”

Homelander’s angry strides are heavy and unmistakable. Vought employees veer out of his way and give him a wide berth, keeping their heads down all the while. His heated steps bring him to the Surveillance team, where The Deep has been at the helm for the past couple of months.

And what the fuck does he have to show for it? He’s sipping a soda while flirting with one of the glorified interns trying to sort through the classified files on her screen. Deep perks up when he notices Homelander barging into the room.

“Oh! Hey, sir—”

“Where the fuck is my son?” Homelander snaps.

Ever since the incident last week, Ryan has been ducking out of his room more than usual. Despite him choosing the right side, Homelander’s side, Ryan hasn’t been working with the production team on his superhero image.

Nothing useful has come in about Soldier Boy, and now Butcher has disappeared from their sight as well. Though that one doesn’t matter so much. Homelander will be happy to see that bastard die of the cancer already eating his brain. There’s probably nothing Homelander could do that would be more fucking hilarious than that.

“Uhh, not sure, sir. But we do have something new on the Soldier Boy front,” Deep says. He cues a finger at the girl, Ashley or Annika or whatever the fuck her name is.

She presses a play button on her computer screen, and Homelander bends at the waist to scrutinize the footage. It captures an alleyway between the main building of Vought Tower and the garage.

“This is the day of the, um, the incident,” she adds.

Soldier Boy exits the building, stumbling out really. He eventually crosses paths with a young woman. To Homelander, she almost seems familiar.

Soldier Boy grabs her arm, says something to her that makes her eyes widen with fear, then drags her toward him so he can cover her mouth with his hand. They wait there against the wall for almost thirty seconds. Then, he pulls her into the garage with him.

“Who the fuck is that?” Homelander asks.

Allie chimes in. “Ah, she was a Vought employee, sir. She recently quit without prior notice.”

“See, we had Webweaver on this, but the police just found his body in Lake Marion, South Carolina,” Deep says. 

A slow smile spreads across Homelander’s face. “Fucking finally.”

“Uhh, what?” Deep says.

It’s a lead, Homelander thinks. A trail. One step closer to hunting down dear old Dad. 

Emphasis on fucking old.

Your grandmother lives south, west, and more west, almost right on the edge of the Everglades—a 1.5-million-acre wetlands protected by the state. When tourists and natives alike end up on the news for getting their limbs bit off by alligators or left half-dead by a cottonmouth snake, it’s usually because they were stupid enough to hike through the mangroves and jump into the swampy waters alone.

You pull up in front of your grandma’s house and park in the paved driveway. It’s a modest three-bedroom, Spanish-style home that your dad grew up in with his two brothers, your Uncle Felix and Uncle Luis. They re-painted the outer walls the color of a soft sunset in golden orange, the roof tiles a darker terracotta. A rod iron gate around the property meets at the front with a small arch Ben will later have to duck his head under.

You can already smell freshly cut grass as the sprinklers run in the front yard, but for the moment, you stay in the car to figure out the game plan.

“So,” Ben says, “what role am I playing for tonight, sweetheart? Your work friend, or your boyfriend? Both have their pros and cons, and potential benefits.”

His grin is far too cocksure not to irritate you on sight. You’re already regretting this lapse in your sanity that led you to try being nice to this asshole.

You also realize that you haven’t exactly thought this through. What if they recognize him from the news? 

…Well, your parents don’t like social media and your grandmother barely even knows how to text, let alone what Instagram is. 

“Let’s just play it by ear,” you say, resisting a sigh. “But for now…God, fine, you’re my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” he gamely nods. “How long’ve we been dating?”

“Long enough for me to bring you to see my parents, so let’s say a few months,” you say. Then, you grab his wrist. “Please, try to tone down the cursing and general pussy talk around my family. They’re Catholic and…conservative.”

Again, his lips twitch upward in a way you don’t really like.

“Sure,” he says, “I can turn on the charm.”

He turns his wrist under your grasp to bring your hand up to his lips. 

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I can be very convincing.” 

A warm blush spreads across your cheeks, prickling down your neck.

Shit. You’re already regretting this. 

After slipping your hand from his grasp so you can look yourself over in the little car mirror, you get out of the car first. Ben follows your lead and walks up to the front door with you. 

You look over at him with a more critical eye, humming to yourself. You try to fix his wrinkled shirt, straighten his collar. Ben watches you do it with an amused gleam in his eyes. 

“My mom is the queen of snap judgments,” you explain. “One damn smudge or wrinkle and she’s gonna think you don’t bathe.”

You lean up and sort your fingers through his hair a little, sweeping the strands away from his brow. You have to ignore the way he’s watching you. 

When you turn and knock on the door, Ben settles a hand on the small of your back. You shoot him a raised brow. He winks at you. You don’t have time to comment or even push his hand away, because that’s when the door opens.

You greet your dad with a wide smile to cover up your nerves. Out of anyone that could’ve opened the door, why did it have to be him? He kisses your cheek when you lean in to hug him, but he eyes the man beside you with a note of appraisal. 

“Who’s this?” he asks. 

“Dad, this is Ben,” you say, choking out the second bit, “my boyfriend.” 

“Sir,” Ben greets. He offers the man a firm handshake. 

“Victor,” your dad replies, though he shoots you a look. “You didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend.”

“Is that her?” your mom says. She comes out to greet you and Ben, taking in his tall, handsome form with a pleased scrutiny. “My goodness, this is your friend, huh?” She gives you a teasing wink. “I didn’t buy that one for a minute, but it has been a long time since you’ve brought a man home.”

Ben’s smile takes on an amused glint when he casts you some side-eye. 

“It’s kinda new,” you confess, trying to ignore the hot blush in your cheeks. Your mom is already having way too much fun with this, but she immediately levels up her own brand of Cuban Mom Charm, taking Ben into the house by his arm. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ben. I’m Gloria. This is my husband Victor,” she says, gesturing at your dad, who stands stoically behind her. Ben gives him another nod, then hits your mom with a kind of suavecito that would put James Bond to shame. 

“Now I know who to thank for giving my girl her beautiful smile. We’ve got Miss Florida herself right here,” Ben flirts, squeezing her hand on his arm.

Gloria twitters a laugh, making you bite your lip against a snort. 

She leads him further into your grandmother’s house, while you and Victor follow behind. Ben takes note of all the pictures on the walls and housed in various frames on virtually every shelf and accent table: your parents’ wedding, your father and your uncles when they were young, and you at various ages—kindergarten through your high school graduation, followed by your college graduation. 

There are pictures of you with your parents, your ten first cousins and thirty second cousins, your aunts and uncles, and you with your grandmother—the woman who’s currently cooking up something that smells delicious in the kitchen. Garlic and onions and olive oil; the smells mingle together with the red and green bell peppers being sautéed in a pan with some kind of red sauce. 

Your grandma Sofia takes in Ben from head to toe with wide-eyed, blinking surprise, even a bit of wonder. She glances at you, at Ben’s hand once again resting on the small of your back. Slowly, she brightens.

“Ay, Diosito mio, who’s this handsome man in my house?” she says.

Ben smiles, but you step in before he can flirt with her too. 

“Mamá, this is Ben. Uh, my boyfriend,” you tell her while giving her a big, warm hug. You try to blink past the tears stinging your eyes. You’ve probably missed your grandma the most. 

She squeezes you tight, but she also smacks you on the ass. 

“Hey!” you protest, laughing in embarrassment.

“Oye, you couldn’t call to tell us you finally got another man?” she chides. “How long has this one being going on?”

“Um, a few months—”

The old woman gasps, as if you told her that her recorded episodes of Caso Cerrado, the Latino version of Judge Judy, had been erased. Taking another look at a highly amused Ben, she crosses herself and delivers a kiss to the heavens. 

“Ay, Padre Santísimo. Finally, a man who doesn’t dress como un niño malcreado—like Justin Bieber.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. Your mother snickers, while Ben chuckles deeply. He doesn’t know who the fuck Justin Bieber is, but he knows about at least one of the pussy man-boys you’ve dated in the past. He slides you a knowing smirk.

“No, ma’am. She’s got a real man now,” he adds.

You blow out a subtle breath, trying with all your might not to glare at him. You do shoot him a tight smile, a warning in your eyes.

But he just trails a strong hand across the small of your back. The sensation makes tingles travel down your spine. 

You bite your lip and return your attention to your mom, who grabs some cheese and salami for you and Ben to snack on. You sit with him at the kitchen island and help your grandmother peel potatoes for the meal. By now Victor has claimed his usual spot on the couch, no doubt to catch up on one of the ten new baseball games he always has recorded. If there’s one thing your dad is obsessed with, it’s baseball. 

Ben lingers with you though, casually resting a hand on the back of your chair while he leans back in his seat at the island. 

“What’s on the menu?” Ben asks. 

“Carne guisada, white rice, and tostones. Eh, fried plantains,” Sofia replies. “Have you ever had Dominican food before?”

“No, but it smells delicious.”

“Ay, mija, have you not been feeding him?” your grandma reproaches, to your long-suffering sigh. 

If she only fucking knew.

Your mom watches in amusement while taking over stirring the stew. Meanwhile, Sofia rounds the kitchen island so she can tug you down by your arm.

“What have I taught you, huh?” she whispers. “A man well-fed will stay in your bed.” 

Mortification burns hot in your cheeks. Your hand comes up to half cover your face. 

“Ay, Mamá,” you hiss. Inside, you’re dying a thousand deaths. 

You glance at Ben over your shoulder. He sips at his beer, but by the way he’s smirking, of fucking course he heard her. 

“You call her ‘mom’ too?” he asks.

“Yes, they all call me that because I am everyone’s mother here,” Sofia says. She wipes her hand free of parsley bits and pats Ben’s hand where it rests on the counter. “But you, young man, can call me Sofia.”

“Mamá!”

Ben eats dinner with gusto. Your grandmother is satisfied and pleased by how much he’s clearly enjoying the braised beef stew. She even loads him up with his third serving. You watch him in amusement, even though you shake your head.

He’s stuffing his face as if he’s never eaten real food before. Though you wonder when the last time he had a real home-cooked meal was…before you met him, that is.

Ben and Victor talk about baseball and the classic players they admire (with Ben having actually met a few of them). While the men are distracted with their conversation at the far end of the table, you have to endure your mother and grandmother’s grilling. 

Where is he from?

What does he do? 

How old is he? 

Spring weddings are just beautiful in Miami, you know. Your cousin Julissa had a spring wedding by the beach. Wasn’t it nice?

Needless to say, you should be winning an Oscar for your own improv performance tonight.  

“Where are you guys staying tonight?” Gloria asks.

Your grandma looks affronted. “Well, here of course.”

You laugh a bit nervously. “Actually, Ben can’t stay. He, um…he has a plane to catch in the morning, for a business trip.”

“Oh, what kind of business? You said he works at Vought too,” Gloria asks.

You nod, though you have to think quickly to come up with something plausible. You glance over at Ben, who briefly meets your gaze. The look in his eyes tells you that he’s caught the edges of your conversation and wants to know what you’ll say as well.

“Uh, Ben is in Vought’s Sales Division,” you say. “Sometimes they have him travel overseas.” 

“Oh, wow. Where are you going, Ben?” Gloria asks him.

“Buenos Aires,” Ben replies. “Vought’s trying to develop another Voughtland down there. They’ve been trying for years, but the locals figure they’ve got enough entertainment, what with the tourist traps and the drug cartels and all. So they’ve brought me on to seal the deal. Think of me as a…well, as a closer. ‘S why they pay me the big bucks.” 

You resist the urge to shake your head, but you do squeeze his thigh in warning under the table. He gives you a smile and a raise of his brows. Eying him pointedly, you shift the conversation. 

“So he’s planning on staying at the airport tonight, since it’s such an early flight,” you say. 

Sofia shakes her head, as well as a finger in the air. 

“No, no. You are a guest in my home, so you will stay here tonight. I won’t take no for an answer,” she says. 

Ben gives you a self-satisfied smile, before he answers her.

“Well, who am I to say no?”

It seems strategic, the way your mom corners Ben in the kitchen to try and fish more information out of him. Meanwhile, your dad pulls you aside into the living room.

“So tell me. What’s going on with that job of yours?” he asks. His brows have that telltale furrow of concentrated Dad Worry. On Victor, it looks just shy of being angry.

You cross your arms, debating with yourself for a moment. You’ve been lying a lot tonight, but this is something you know you have to come clean about, even if you know it’s a victory for your father.

“I quit, okay,” you admit.

His shoulders loosen in relief. His gaze raises heavenward while his hands rest on his hips.

“Thank God,” he says. But then, he concentrates back on you. “This mean you’re finally moving back home?”

“I didn’t say that,” you snap. “I’m gonna stay here with Mamá for a little while until I figure out what I’m gonna do. But I’m going to find something in New York. I have time now. Maybe I can finally start my own graphic design business.”

For the past year that you hadn’t been able to find other work to leave Vought, you’d begun to spin the idea in your mind. You have friends in the Marketing department who could help you build a website, run some ads across socials. You know how to create your own content, do your own marketing, even reach out to potential clients. All you need at this point is some time and money. You have one, and you can use some of what you have in savings to invest in the idea—to build something of your own. Something honest.

Victor’s jaw clenches. He swipes a hand of frustration over his face, his gait shifting with the effort of keeping his anger contained in his mother’s house.

“Why do you always have to be so damn stubborn?” he grits out.

“Why’re you always trying to control my life?” you counter, just at hotly. “I’m not a little girl. I’ve been doing what I have to do on my own—”

“But that’s it. You don’t have to,” he says. “You wanna get blown up in one of those buildings? Or run through in the street by one of those fucking supes, like that girl two years ago? You’re smart, mija. Use that brain for something besides selfish little ideas that don’t go anywhere.”

Your mouth falls open, but nothing else escapes. Your heart is in your throat, a painful lump as tears cling to your lashes.

“You went to NYU because the schools here somehow weren’t good enough. Now you’re in debt,” he continues, raising his hand up to his brows. “Hasta los ojitos. ¿Verdad? You tried to make it in that city because you wanted to be an artist. And where did you end up? At a corrupt fucking company that worked you like a dog, and nearly got you buried under a pile of rubble like it was 9/11 all over again.”

His words cut into you like so many knives. A familiar well of acid had been churning in your stomach; now it reaches up into the base of your throat where you’re already choked by embarrassment, resentment, shame.

“Okay, dessert!” your mom calls from the kitchen, this time unaware of her husband. She brings out the large pan of flan she made last night and sets it on the table while Ben begrudgingly brings out the smaller plates and spoons. The smell of Café Bustelo reaches you as the cafetera begins to steam and boil on the stove. Sofia lifts the top of it and nods when she finds that the espresso is done percolating.

“Quién quiere café?” she asks.

Heaving a sigh through his nose, Victor raises a finger. Ben notices you, sees whatever he sees in your face, no matter how you try to bury it down. You can tell that he’s heard every word, just by that look on his face. Ben approaches you and your dad, once again sliding a hand across the small of your back, but you speak before he has a chance to say anything.

“You want coffee, right?”

Ben nods slightly, letting you leave him to escape into the kitchen. He shifts his attention to your father. The man is shorter than Ben, but still a presence that commands respect in the house.

“You still work for Vought after everything that’s happened?” Victor asks him.

Ben’s brow turns wry. “Oh, I’ve got an exit strategy.”

Victor nods. That seems to mollify him a bit, even as he watches his daughter. Ruefulness enters his gaze, even if it’s still hard with his convictions. It just reminds Ben of his father’s blue-eyed stare—the kind that always pierced straight through his skin and saw every scrap of weakness underneath.

“She’d rather live in that fucking cesspool than listen to me,” Victor says. “Young, stubborn, thinks she knows it all.”

Ben’s lips tug at a smile. Yeah, that’s fucking you.

“She thinks she can handle it out there by herself, but take away all that attitude, and what?” Victor shakes his head. “She’s fucking soft.”

Ben glances over at him, then at the silver medals framed in glass on the wall. There’s a picture of a younger version of the man in front him, leaner, just as stoic, wearing an army green uniform and a captain’s insignia. If Victor looked to be in his mid-fifties now, that would’ve put him in his early 20s during the Vietnam War.

Other than a few photo ops after the Tet Offensive and a movie he did in the late ‘60s, Ben spent most of his time snorting coke and fucking the female cast of Bewitched. (Elizabeth Montgomery blamed her failed marriage on him, but that shit was wrecked long before he came into her picture. Literally.)

Ben’s gaze drifts away from the shiny wall of accomplishment, and back over to you across the room. You’re helping your mom set out the plates of flan after she cuts each slice. He sees how hard you try to bury everything you have boiling inside behind the task, swiping a stray curl out of your eyes as you go. He’s come to recognize that look, and the things you do to keep moving forward.

“She can be,” Ben nods at your father. “But maybe she’s stronger than you think.”

Victor’s brows furrow, but Ben doesn’t stick around for more. He joins you back at the dinner table and takes a small white espresso cup you offer him. Your fingers brush with his on the pass, but its his hand casually curling wily strands of your hair behind your ear that earns your attention, your slightly widening eyes.

He smirks down at you before taking a seat. Despite yourself, your lips tug at a smile, and you join him.

After dessert, your parents finally head back home. You finally allow yourself to confess to your grandmother that you quit your job. It’s easier to be honest with her than with your parents sometimes.

She’s sorry to hear the news, knowing you enjoyed your independence in New York. While you didn’t necessarily love your job, up until now it had allowed you to have the life you wanted.  

Since she has more room to spare in her house, she’s graciously agreed to have you stay with her for a little while. You know what you told your dad, but you wonder if you can even go back to New York after this. He might just win after all.

But of course, there’s also Ben.

“I still don’t know what the big fucking deal is,” he says, somewhat grumpily. 

You sigh and shove an extra blanket into his hands from the hallway closet. 

“Look, my grandma is fun, even a little mischievous, but she’s not actually going to let me share a bedroom with my ‘boyfriend’ under her roof. Conservative Catholics, remember?” 

You also hand him a towel to take a shower. “Besides, it’s not like I’d let you into my bed anyway. Can you please just remember our deal?” 

He nods, albeit reluctantly. “Don’t you fucking worry. I’ll be out in the morning before God and everyone wakes up.” 

You hesitate, leaning your back against the doorway to your room. Ben will be staying in the second guest room down the hall.

“Well, you can still knock on my door before you leave,” you say, with a slight smile. “You know, if you wanna say goodbye.”

Ben eyes you, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Might as well get that outta the way now,” he says.

Your smile fades in confusion, but before you can react, he slips an arm around your waist and guides you in close. After a beat to gauge the look on your face—surprised, but not angry, by the way your eyes roam his face—he bows his head to claim your lips.

It’s a thorough kiss, and a little demanding as his lips move over yours, but it makes a tendril of heat lick down your spine as your fingers curl around his biceps. 

You find yourself at a loss when he breaks away. His eyes open to meet yours, smiling when he finds you breathless.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” he says.

And he lets you go, allowing your hair to slip through his fingers. 

You’re tempted to smack that self-satisfied look off his face, but you shake your head with a smile. You guess you can give him one for the road. 

Butcher, Hughie, and the rest of the boys are tearing apart Webweaver’s disgusting apartment. Considering the supe’s phone is dead, and he hasn’t been seen in over 24 hours, Butcher is willing to bet that Soldier Boy killed the little prick. 

Unfortunately for Butcher, Webweaver was feeding him information. 

“There’s nothing here,” M.M. says in disgust, wiping his hands of a sticky substance. He’d rather not know what it is.

“He had to know something in order to pick up the cunt’s trail,” Butcher says. He points to Webweaver’s laptop, where Hughie is trying to hack the password.

Butcher’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Fishing it out and peering at the ID, he smiles slightly at the text. 

I’m close to your apartment. Can we talk?

Ryan. Finally, the kid is coming around. Butcher types out a reply.

Give me half an hour. 

Butcher considers his next words carefully, and he adds…

There are things we needa talk about.

There was too much shit he hadn’t told the kid, for fear of pushing him away. (Already done.)

Or fearing the kid wouldn’t believe him. (Ain’t got nothing left to lose now.)

Butcher only half suppresses a wheezing cough.

Oh, yeah, he’s still fucking dying. But if there’s one thing he’s going to do, it’s find Soldier Boy, so he can make good on their deal on snuffing Homelander.

He knows he’ll have to be even more creative with how he gets the supe to agree, seeing as Butcher double-crossed him once before. But this time, he has M.M. and Annie actually on board with the plan. Homelander plans to get V24 in the military with Victoria Neuman’s help.

So all the fucking Spice Girls finally agree: right now, Homelander’s the bigger threat. Then, they’ll somehow deal with Soldier Boy.

Or better yet, the two will kill each other. 

“Got it!” Hughie fist pumps the air. He’s been able to crack into Webweaver’s laptop, even though he balks at having to sort through a tremendous amount of disturbing pornography.

He finally finds a file labeled: Parking Lot, June 3, 5:34 p.m.

He presses play. The first thing he sees is your scared face come into frame, followed by Soldier Boy. 

​​“Oh my God,” you breathe. “Soldier Boy?” He glances up at you through furrowed brows. He looks ragged and soot-stained, his breathing labored as he leans against the wall. He focuses on you. “Uh, a-are you okay?” you ask shakily, clutching your messenger bag.

“All right,” Butcher drawls. “Who the fuck is that?” 

In the morning, you wake to the sun in your eyes through the windows. You get up and check the room across the hall. The door is open, and the bed is made, clear of Ben’s things. You feel disappointed that he didn’t wake you up before he left.

I guess the one goodbye was good enough for him, you think, not willing to wonder why that kind of upsets you. 

Whatever. It’s for the best. Soldier Boy is finally out of your life, and you can focus on what you need to do to pick up the threads of your life.

With that decision made, you go about starting your day. You don’t bother to change out of your pajamas. You just fluff out your curls and venture out to the kitchen, where the smell of Cuban coffee once again wafts stronger in the air. Your grandma might be Dominican, but she’s embraced her daughter-in-law’s Cuban-centric community with the little things, like espresso and pastries in the morning.

There you find something unexpected. You find Ben sipping coffee, chatting with your grandmother at the kitchen island while she makes breakfast. Her favorite radio station plays on the counter and masks the contents of their conversation, but they’re smiling and laughing, having a good ol’ fucking time.

Until Ben notices you standing there with your mouth hanging open. He grins.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, taking another sip of his coffee. Sofia smiles over at you too.

“Ben,” you say. Your voice strikes a higher pitch than usual. “What happened to your flight?”

“It got cancelled,” he claims, though he beckons you over. You remember then that this little play is still going on—meaning you force yourself to smile and go to him as if you’re so very happy to see him.

Why the hell did I ever think this was a good fucking idea?!

He takes full advantage of the boyfriend charade, laying a heavy hand on the small of your back. It travels around your waist and comes to rest on your hip. He brushes his thumb back and forth over the thin fabric of your pajama top, and even has the gall to eye you with a grin, likely noticing that you aren’t wearing a bra.

“I invited him to stay for a couple more days, get to know the family,” Sofia says while stirring some scrambled eggs. Bacon is also sizzling on another pan on the stove.

While her back is turned, you shoot Ben a knowing glare.

To think you were a little disappointed about being rid of him. Now, you’re just angry and irritated as good sense hits you upside the head. The longer he stays with you, the better chance of Homelander or the government finding him. 

You’re quiet throughout breakfast while Sofia asks Ben more questions about himself.

“Do you go to church?” she asks, with a raised brow.

You snort into your coffee, but Ben just rubs the back of his neck. 

“I’ll admit, I’ve skipped a few Sundays,” he says, somewhat dismissively.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. His skin would probably burn if he took one step inside of a sanctuary. 

“Well, what about kids. Do you like children?” Sofia asks.

Your eyes widen. “Mamá, seriously?”

“I always thought I’d have a few,” Ben replies. You turn to look at him, and the sincerity of his tone and the sudden thoughtful gleam in his eyes surprises you even more.

“Guess I’ve been waiting for the right time to settle down,” he says, glancing at you. It’s hard for you to read that look, but it makes you wonder what the fuck he’s thinking.

He goes back to eating.

After breakfast, you get up to help Sofia clear the table. While she’s putting the pastries away, you grab Ben’s arm and lead him closer to the living room. 

“You really need to go,” you whisper-hiss. “You promised me—”

He rolls his eyes. “All right, keep your fucking panties on. Just one more night of R&R and I’ll get gone.”

“You better be for real, because I can’t—”

“Ay, mi canción,” Sofia says. She comes over and tugs on your hand. “You remember this one, right?”

The song that plays on the radio is “Mi Muchachita” by Luis Segura, the song your mom would always wake you up with on Saturday mornings to get you up to help her clean the house. It was a tradition your grandma started when your dad and his brothers were kids. She later got your mom hooked on it when she came to stay with your family for a few years, shortly after you were born. Gloria had needed the help, and her parents had already passed away a few years back.

Now, Sofia leads you away from Ben so that you can dance with her. She pulls into the bachata—ironically, the dance that began in the bars and brothels of Santo Domingo. In the 1960s, it was the dance of the lower class, the degenerates, and the campesinos. Bolero rhythm was its heart, but the spirit of the common people was its soul.

You protest at first at being uprooted from your grumpy mood, but your grandma has a way of hooking you into almost anything. Eventually your tense shoulders relax, and you’re laughing and twirling under her hand while you let your body inhabit the song.

Ben watches the scene in amusement, becoming transfixed by the sway of your hips, to the quick and natural steps of your feet…until Sofia grabs his hand too. 

“Hey, no. I’m good,” he says. “I don’t dance…whatever this is.”

“So I teach you,” she insists, beckoning him closer. “Come, come! Watch me. Es fácil. Real easy.”

You step off to the side to give them room, and you giggle while watching Ben try to follow her instructions. Sofia is persistent though. She teaches him how to step in counts of two, how to lead her back and forth, then turn her around. She even sends you a cheeky look while she has the man’s hands trapped either in her hand, or on her waist.

You hide your laughter behind your espresso cup. Damn. She’s still got game.

After a few minutes, Sofia leads him over to join Ben’s hand with yours, claiming she needs a rest. She guides you into his arms, and you step in with a good-natured smile.

“This is a bit fucking much,” he mutters to you. “It’s too complicated.” 

“You’re actually doing well. Just feel it though. Don’t watch your feet,” you continue to instruct him, amused by his hesitance. 

He seems to be into this though, and he begins to gain some confidence the more he learns the flow of the steps. He holds your hand more assured as he moves from side to side in time with the beat. For a white boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he has some decent rhythm. 

Ben throws in a spin that’s not quite bachata-like. It feels more like the swing of the ‘40s, the stuff you’ve only seen in movies. Still, it thrills you when you end up even closer in his arms, his warm chest pressed to yours. He looks down on you with hooded eyes that slowly roam your face, stopping on your lips.

He begins to bow his head toward yours, but you clear your throat and smile, a little nervously. You place a hand on his chest and push him back subtly as the song comes to an end. 

“Oh! Before I forget,” Sofia says. 

You almost forgot she was there. Instinctively you freeze where you stand, still catching your breath all too close to Ben. 

“Can you pick up some things from the store for later? I’m making arroz con pollo,” she says. “But you know what, I’ll give you a list, ‘cause I’m out of some other things too.”

Glancing up at Ben once more, you take the excuse to step away from him. You agree to take your grandma’s list, and you head to your room to get changed. 

The man not only follows you to the car, but insists on “getting out of the house” and going with you to the local Cuban-owned grocery store and café. 

“Christ on a Cross, is this the price of steak nowadays?” he mutters, eying all the cuts behind the cold glass. “Used to be cheaper to order it at a fucking restaurant.”

You’ve stopped here to pick up a couple packages of ground beef. You shoot him a glance, wondering why he cares when he had enough money to buy the restaurant, once upon a time. Maybe it’s the principle of the matter with him.

“Welcome to the modern world,” you drawl. “It’s getting too expensive to live, and jobs don’t want to pay for shit.”

He raises a brow, but he follows you down the aisle.

Ben is kind of the worst to go shopping with. He sneaks things into the cart when he thinks you’re not looking. You tell him you’re not buying him three different cakes and a dirty magazine. Where the hell did he even find that? 

You stuff it all back on a shelf, behind some boxed novelty cakes imported from Mexico. Though you agree to buy him one dessert, after you throw in some peaches. 

“You may be a super soldier, but you should eat more fruits and veggies,” you quip. Stuffing himself full of takeout, booze, and weed all the time can’t be good for him.

Ben raises a wry brow at you. He sidles up close while you’re putting goods on the checkout counter. His hand molds to the curve of your waist as he speaks lowly in your ear.

“I’ve got all the peaches I need, sweetheart.”

You blush hotly and send him a wide-eyed look over your shoulder. His hand means to drift lower on your ass, but your lips purse, and you smack his hand away.

“Do you have no shame?” you whisper-hiss. Giving him one kiss was like feeding a stray dog. Now he thinks he can keep sniffing your ass for more. 

“Come on, Chiquita. Would it kill you to lighten the fuck up?” he teases. 

You roll your eyes heavenward, praying for strength. You manage to get through the rest of the transaction of the checkout line mostly in peace, and Ben does all the heavy lifting of putting the bags in the car. However, you’re giving him a bit of a cold shoulder as you get back into the car.  

“All right, what’s the matter now?” he asks. “For Christ’s sake, you don’t have to be so fucking frigid.”

“Why did you come anyway?” you ask, slamming the trunk closed. “Just to cop another feel? What, did you think I was gonna blow you in the alley behind the bodega?”

Ben hesitates with a frown. There’s a moment where you think he might give you an earnest answer, but ultimately, he just shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

You scoff, both incredulous and disgusted as you rip the driver’s side door open and get inside the car. You barely wait for Ben to do the same on the passenger side, before you’re turning the ignition and angrily shifting the car into reverse. 

You back out with more force than Ben would’ve recommended, but he flexes his fingers on his thigh. He doesn’t want to tell you that he hadn’t liked the idea of you going out alone. Not without a weapon, some protection.

But he also didn’t think you’d still be cockblocking him so much after last night. And this morning, he thought you were actually warming up to him…

Guess not, he thinks sardonically, with a roll of his eyes. Whatever. It’s not like he’ll be wanting for pussy when he gets to South America. Pretty soon, it’s going to be him fucking bitches on nude beaches, drowning himself in margaritas, blow, and pussy all day long. 

He doesn’t know what it is about you though. He knows you’re into him, even if you won’t admit it… 

It’s that challenge, that Latina fire that stokes his blood every time he looks at you. Gotta be.

He also knows that the moment he leaves, one of two things will happen. Either Vought finds you, or the CIA does. If it’s the latter, they’ll question you. Even if they don’t get the information they want, they could try to protect you and your family.

Regardless, Ben knows he can’t stay. That’ll just make things worse, for himself, and for you. All he can do is take advantage of the hours he has left here.

“Look, what’s your problem, huh?” he tries again. “Think I can’t show you a good time?”

You heave a sigh without looking at him. “It’s not about that, Ben.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“You’re leaving. You’re not going to stay and fight the deranged prick who’s on the verge of taking over the whole damn country,” you say sharply. “You’re gonna fuck off to who knows where, bury your head in the sand, and numb yourself for the rest of your life. So there’s no point in exploring you and me. I’m not gonna be some quick fuck and ‘Sayonara, sweetheart. Been a good time.’ No! None of that shit.”

That falls heavily between you two, even with the radio playing at a moderate volume.

Ben simmers in the near silence while you drive through the heavy traffic in Miami. You curse when you get stuck at an intersection. 

“This is taking fucking forever,” he grumbles.

You whip your head over at him again. “Okay, and? Should I part the Red Sea of Miami for you?”

“All right, Christ. Enough,” he says. He rubs at his forehead like you’re giving him a headache. 

Good, you think. The feeling’s mutual.

Ben crosses his arms in his seat and stares out ahead. Traffic is starting to easy up, allowing you to inch closer to the righthand turn. 

You blow out a sigh, contemplating the man riding shotgun. You’re not sure why he’s still here with you. Why he doesn’t want to just leave his old life behind and make new somewhere else. It’s obvious that he wants you, but does he care about you? 

There’s no point in exploring you and me.

You hadn’t meant to say that, but it left you with a sinking feeling in your chest afterward. You still feel its hold on you now, steely fingers gripping your heart.

It’s fucking crazy. You must be crazy…to want him to care.

But before you can let your mind devolve any further, Ben breaks you out of your thoughts when he points out a McDonald’s up ahead. 

“How about you pull over into the drive-thru there,” he says.

You raise a brow at him. “You’re hungry again? Already?”

He shrugs. You shake your head, but your lips begin to tug at a smile. This fucking bottomless pit.

“All right, I’ve got this.”

You take him to a hole-in-the-wall Cuban bakery. The sign is half-scratched off, but you know it from memory. This place has been here for over 50 years, since waves of Cubans fled the iron fist of Fidel Castro’s communism in anything that would float those 90 miles—from pristine sands, and the home of guava fruit, plantains, and pure sugar cane, to the rough shores of the Florida Keys.

Ben polishes off a Cuban sandwich and three guava and cheese pastries, washing it all down with three beers and a cigar he got by talking shop with the locals playing dominoes in the dining area. The men are old enough to remember him as Soldier Boy. Even though they watch the news all day long, they have a healthy mistrust of everything they see.

They're more inclined to trust the supe they watched and admired when they were young men, the supe that (they thought) represented the ideals of the American dream; the same dream they themselves had fought for when they arrived in this country.

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna out you to the press,” says the only one of them who speaks English. “I’ll just get to tell the wife that I shared a cigar with Soldier Boy. She don’t gotta know when.” 

The other men laugh, Ben included. You roll your eyes. 

They talk him into playing around of dominoes with them, offering to “teach” him how to play, as long as he bets $5 to start with. You lean over his shoulder and help him make the right moves. Your dad and your uncles taught you how to play when you were a kid.

With your help, he ends up winning $200 dollars off of the old men. They don't get mad about it, all too happy just to spend time with one of the only superheroes they respect. You realize then why Ben is getting along so well with these guys; the man himself is at least twenty years older than them. This is essentially a group of his peers.

And what does that make me? you wonder, not knowing whether to laugh or be icked out. The longer you stare at Ben's profile, the line of his jaw, the cut of his beard, the roguish sweep of his hair and the shape and broadness of his form all too casually sitting in a metal chair, the more that thought fades to the back of your mind.

You focus more on Ben, specifically the way he's all too smirky and cocky and proud of his winnings. You’re amused at the way he counts the bills to himself later in the car. You’d think he won the lotto at Atlantic City or something. 

“Hey,” he says, earning your attention. “Let me take you out before I go. Call it a thank you.”

You give him an incredulous look. “You haven’t tested fate enough today? You should be lying low. Me too for that matter.”

“Relax, Chiquita. Nobody fucking knows we’re here,” Ben says, continuing to count his bills. He glances over at you though. “Besides, you’ll be fine, long as you’re with me.”

You consider him with a tilt of your head. Long as you’re with me, huh?

He wants to actually do something for you. More than that, he wants to protect you.

You fight the small swell of butterflies in your stomach. Matter of fact, you hate those little shits. A small sigh escapes your lips.

This guy is fucking exhausting.

“How many goodbyes are we going to have, Ben?” you ask.

He quirks a smile. 

“Just humor me.”

AN: Did you like the little scene change? I had to give things a more tropical vibe for Miami. 😉 Plus, we got a bit of the fake dating trope sliding in there, meeting the parents, some disappointed father syndrome -- checking some rom-com boxes right? 😂

Next Time:

You lead him away from the tight crowd on the dance floor and around the bar, and into a dark hall near the bathrooms. It’s still loud though, that baseline dropping as the DJ’s sirens go off in the club. 

Ben stumbles, his left hand shooting out to smack heavily against the wall. He dents the plaster. You quickly move in front of him and rest your hands against his chest.

“Ben, you with me?” you say in a measured tone. “Hey, you okay? You hearing me?”

His brows furrow in answer, but you can tell he’s not all there. His breathing is growing ragged. You feel his chest getting warm, and then hot. 

Oh, fuck, your blood runs cold. Is this the strange new explosive power that nearly crumbled Vought Tower? Is this club about to get wiped off the map, like that building in Midtown? Are you about to get blown sky high along with it?

Fuck that. 

You grab his face in your hands. “Ben, you focus on me, okay? Before you blow your cover. Before you hurt someone.”

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[lush-escape]

This is Me Trying

Part 5

pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

a/n: I might not update for a day or two. I only get tomorrow off and then work moved my schedule all around so depending on how busy it is I might not get time to write :( so I hope you all enjoy this yap fest. love yooouuuu

prev: part 4

“Whoa, it's definitely less crowded.” You mumble to your friend as you walk around the busy street.

It's Thursday, race night. You told your friend you were tagging along because you had nothing better to do and needed to get out of the house. But you both knew you were there for Jason, she didn't say anything about it.

“I noticed that too!” She comments in return.

“I think a lot of people are hiding out after J-” Dick speaks up before he stops himself, cleaning his throat.

“After that drug ring was busted last week. I mean, there's a crazed man on the loose bringing in criminals. Is it really so surprising that a bunch of the usual crowd are in hiding?”

“Makes sense.” You agree with Dick not giving it too much thought.

“Do you think he's dangerous?” Your friend asks.

“Yes.” A deep voice comes from behind you three, causing you to startle. Jason stands behind you with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Dick waves his hand, “Nah, I doubt the guy’s dangerous. He's a little crazy yeah but he's probably a big ol’ softy. Protecting his city and all.” Jason shoots his brother a sharp glare, one that has tingles run down your arms. You don't want to be on the receiving end of it - Dick acts like it's no big deal.

“He's a lunatic. Running around the city acting like a hero? Guy's an idiot, prob’ly got a death wish or somethin’.” Jason mumbles.

“Oh, definitely.” Dick snorts.

“It's kind of hot,” Your friend speaks up with a small giggle when Dick looks at her offended. Jason grunts but he doesn't look amused.

“What?” She defends herself from her boyfriend's pout. “It's true! Some guy going out of his way to bring in bad guys like that? Of his own free will? Probably getting all beat up and bloody. Definitely hot.”

Jason looks more irritated the more she talks, “He's probably getting paid.” He says it like it's a fact.

“He's not hot! Baby, angel, please he's not, don't do this to me!” Dick is desperate and you laugh at his dramatics.

“I think it's noble.” You speak up. Jason looks at you and scoffs.

“It's not. It's stupid.”

“Okay, okay. No more fighting.” Dick is finally finished with his final act drama scene.

“We weren't-” you try to tell Dick you weren't arguing or starting a fight but Jason cutd you off.

“Yeah, whatever. I'm heading to my bike.”

You watch Jason walk off and then turn to Dick and already it's like he knows what you're going to say because he simply shakes his head.

“He just gets like this before races.” He explains.

“Right…” you say before your eyes are on Jason's back again. You take in the way his back muscles flex under his black shirt. He's almost graceful with the way he's weaving through the crowd. And just like that he's gone again.

“You're not racing tonight, baby? I thought you were.” Your friend pouts to Dick.

“Not tonight, angel. Car's in the shop.” He replies. “I think we should head down to the finish line though, wait for Jay down there.”

“Yeah, let's go!” She smiles brightly and you follow behind the two, like a child in step with their parents.

Halfway to the finish line someone bumps into you, knocking against your shoulder. You drop your phone with a small gasp. It's not surprising with the crowd. He's tall, big, with a smooth smile.

“So sorry,” he croons as he bends down to pick up your dropped phone. Another shoulder bumps you again.

“Shit.” You turn to look at the person but they're already lost in the crowd. You spend a few moments trying to find the person in the crowd, call them out or apologize but it's no use. They're already gone.

“Here, not a single scratch. Sorry about that.” The stranger hands you back your phone.

“Uh, right. Thanks.” you take your phone back with a forced smile.

“You should be more careful,” they comment, “there's a lot of weirdos in Gotham.” The charming smile on their face doesn't sit right with you.

The warning sends a chill down your spine but you nod.

“Right. Thanks.” Your defenses are up immediately.

“Hey, everything good?” You hear Dick. He's pushing through the crowd towards you, your friend's hand in his. He's not wearing his signature smile and that adds to your uneasiness.

“Yeah, I just dropped my phone. Someone-” you turn your attention from Dick back to the stranger but he's gone.

“... Someone bumped into me.” You finish with a confused look on your face. You sigh and shake it off.

“C'mon, let's go. Jason's race starts in a minute.” Your friend smiles and holds out her free hand to you to hold onto. You take it eagerly, not wanting to get lost in the crowd again.

At the imaginary finish line you push your way to the front of the crowd. There's an electric buzz in the air. The people around you laugh and talk, excited for the race to begin. You hear the motorcycles start up and rev their engines down the street. You can't help the smile on your face, it's contagious when everyone else around you is just as excited.

The bikes fly by in an instant, sleek and modern and customized. It's a flurry of colors and sizes. Loud and rumbling deep in your chest. A small breathless laugh escapes as Jason crosses over the invisible line first.

In all of the excitement the crowd rushes forward, swarming racers to congratulate them, console others. You find yourself following in step with Dick and your friend. There's a giddy feeling bubbling up in your stomach. The three of you are at him in an instant, the crowd around you begins to blur as Jason is the only thing you can focus on.

And then your arms are around his neck in a tight hug. You don't even think about it. It just… happens.

Jason is visibly caught off guard, his arms tensing at his sides. Dick watches with a smile on his face - trying not to laugh at his brother's flustered face. Your friend coos softly.

“Uh,” Jason swallows before wrapping an arm awkwardly around your back. He clears his throat and his thoughts and a smile starts to pull at his lips.

“Oh-” your senses finally come back to you. You barely even know him, ‘What am I doing? I'm the weirdo in Gotham.’ you think.

“Shit, sorry.” You pull back with a sheepish smile. You move to untangle your arms from around Jason but his smile falters into something softer but more serious and his hold on you tightens almost imperceptibley.

“S’fine.” He mumbles. The two of you make eye contact and his ears go red again but you don't notice with the way your eyes dart to the side, your face going warm.

“Congrats, brother.” Dick claps Jason on the shoulder.

“I think that was your fastest time yet!” Your friend laughs brightly. Jason leans back, still sitting on his running bike before he cuts the engine, his arm still around you.

You pull back to hold onto him in an awkward side hug. One arm slung around the back of his broad shoulders, his arm still around your back.

“Lets go get your winnings and head to the party? It's at the beach tonight.” Dick smiles.

Jason shakes his head, “No way are you getting me to the Gotham harbor.” He shakes his head.

“I was actually going to grab an Uber and head home. Get something to eat on the way.” You tell the three. Jason looks at you and your suddenly self conscious of your profile with the way his eyes bore into you.

“Hell no,” he states. You turn to him confused.

“No?”

“No. I'll give you a ride. You can't trust ubers around here, are you kidding? You'll probably get kidnapped.”

Your stomach flutters and you begin to open your mouth to argue but Jason is already putting his helmet on your head. Again, it smells like him and you can't help but smile. A clean soap scent. Jason climbs off his bike and lets go of you. You're almost upset about the loss of contact.

“Stay right here.” He tells you, giving the top of the helmet and firm pat, a smirk on his face. You almost say “yes sir”, instead you just nod.

“He's down so bad.” Dick comments with a smirk as Jason walks away. You shoot him a glare.

“He's being nice.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dick snorts. Your friend slaps at his arm in a silent warning to be nice.

Jason comes back just a few minutes later, shoving an envelope into his jacket pocket. His winnings from the race. You wonder how much is in there with how fat the envelope looks.

“Said you were hungry?” He asks you as he ignores Dick and you nod. Your cheeks raise under the helmet as you smile, causing Jason to smile faintly in return.

“C'mon, hop on.” Jason pats the seat of his bike and you comply wordlessly. “Burgers alright with you?”

“God, yeah.” Your voice is muffled by the helmet but Jason nods.

“Have fun, Jaybird.” Dick teases when Jason gets on his bike and starts the engine. Your friend smiles coyly and waves at you knowingly. Your thankful for the helmet that hides your bashful smile. You shake your head jokingly.

“Don't do anything I wouldn't do!” Dick calls over the roar of the engine which earns him a middle finger from Jason.

“Bat Burger, huh?” You question Jason. You go to take his helmet off but, again, he stops you. Silently insisting he do it himself.

“Yeah. It's the only place open this late with good burgers.” He shrugs. With the helmet off you realize how close he is and it hits you how big he is. Almost towering over you like a shadow that could swallow you whole.

But he's gentle in the way he unclips the strap of his helmet, soft in the way he slowly pulls it off your head to not hurt you.

“You didn't have to do this, you know.” You give Jason a smile as Dick's words ring through your head.

“Was on the way.” Jason simply responds as he eyes the menu on the outside of the building.

“I meant all of this. The ride, the food. I'm sure there are more exciting things you could be doing instead of giving me a ride home. Again.” You're about to say thank you before Jason gives you a look. And despite not knowing him well, you know what he's going to say. You sigh in amusement and nod.

“I know, I know.” You cut him off as he opens his mouth. He closes it with a smile.

Bare minimum.

taglist: @theendofthematerialgworl @vellichor01

[crowliphale]

Shadow Gid AU Stuff!

Info for my AU!! I might update this post in the future, so keep a look out!!

Gideon dies by successfully sacrificing himself to save Kremy's life, resulting in some kind of explosion. This leaves cool scorch marks on Kremy's arms and tail

Kremy goes catatonic for three months just crying and trying to find ways to bring Gid back, simultaneously blaming himself for Gid's death and isolating himself from everyone around him. No one really blames him for this but they ARE incredibly concerned.

Gideon comes back (as a shadow) roughly a week after dying. Kremy doesn't believe it and thinks it's his own shadow playing tricks on him. Gid convinces him he's real! It does almost nothing to soothe Kremy's mourning

(Adding a read more so it doesn't clog any tags)

(During that aforementioned week, Gideon's soul was pretty much trapped in limbo, with the Baron or whatever god trying to convince him he could wait for Kremy in the afterlife. Gideon simply kept refusing until they got sick of him and sent him back as Kremy's shadow.)

Kremy pleads with the Baron twice before Gideon gives it a shot. The first time was almost immediately after Gid's death, and Kremy could barely form a coherent thought through his violent sobs. The second time he was much calmer, but he kept taking a completely emotional "I can't live without him" approach. Gideon argues he has a contract with Kremy that he has to be alive to fulfill. The Baron gives Kremy the ability to summon Gideon after this.

Initially Kremy has to focus really hard to hold concentration, but it quickly becomes second nature. He gets a dedicated item to help him do this a couple months in, and on the anniversary of Gid's death they get enchanted rings! (Ofc they hold a little impromptu wedding about this) Gideon can now stay corporeal and go anywhere he wants as long as they both have their rings on.

Other notes:

- Kremy no longer has control of his own shadow, it's gone forever and replaced by Gid. When Gid is corporeal, Kremy HAS a shadow, but it's just a normal shadow with no special abilities

- before they get the rings, if either of them are knocked out, Gideon goes back to being a shadow. If Gideon is the one to get knocked out, he has a cool down period before he returns as a shadow again. Kremy is always terrified when this happens.

- Kremy and Gideon now have some kind of vague telepathic link. Its up to viewer interpretation whether this link lets them speak telepathically or not, but at the very least they can sense one another from a distance, and Kremy can clearly communicate with Gid even in his shadow form

- once they get the rings, either of them can remove it to turn Gid back into a shadow. Kremy almost always reserves this for emergencies where Gideon may be in danger, but Gid sometimes uses it as a way to practically teleport to Kremy (as a shadow he still has the proximity limit)

- there ARE a couple cases where Kremy feels petty enough to turn Gideon into a shadow mid-argument. Because he's Kremy. It genuinely only happens one or two times tho, Gid's autonomy is important to him

- Gideon has to do charades to talk to anyone outside of Kremy when he's in his shadow form

- Kremy and Gideon get VERY unhealthily attached after this whole debacle. They get physically uncomfortable if they aren't in the same room as one another. This eventually gets more lax, but not by a lot (they'll likely insist on being in the same building together for the rest of their lives)

- During Kremy's mourning period, he often forgets to eat, sleeps a lot, and puts pretty much NO effort into taking care of himself. As a result, Gideon forms a lot of habits where he fusses over Kremy's health and appearance. These habits carry over even once Kremy's healthy again, and Kremy lets him be as fussy as he wants.

- when Gideon becomes corporeal again, he comes back with green/purple flames rather than his usual red/orange. This change is permanent

(Once again, this post might be updated over time as details get added! Keep an eye out! Also, reblogs are turned off so older versions of this post don't get spread around, but comments are welcome and appreciated!!)

[bewitched-hours]

Elo!

do yu do platonic ships? If yu do can yu do bluudud X fem! reader(Survivor) who is 11 y.o. and sometimes suggle up and fall asleep on bluudud arms.

Yu can also do slight angst like the spectre forbids their love or smt but they dgaf, as love is more powerful-

anyway make sure to get some rest and stay hapi

-Kiclown Anony

I do and that's absolutely adorable! It's a nice change of pace to just focus on the children for a bit and have something cute to read about!

As requested, She/Her for the reader!

What's more disturbing?

Another child being thrown into this endless game of life and death or them being thrown to the survivors?

Either way, you seemed almost oblivious to the chaos.

They almost thought you were also somehow convinced this was just a game of tag like C00lkidd but you quickly showed that you knew.

The other survivors were greatly disturbed of course. You were only 11 years old and not showing even a hint of a reaction to the constant deaths around you.

But similar to the kids in the killer's cabin, you were created by someone for reasons yet unknown.

And for whatever reason, your ability to feel fear was just completely gone... Why did the Spectre choose you to be a survivor??

Regardless, you had to be protected, even against your own will at times.

It was stressful when you were up against C00lkidd, Bluudud or Pr3typriincess. Since for some fucking reason you always insisted on distracting them and playing games, giving the other survivors heart attacks as they try to get ahold of your sugar-induced little body.

Speaking of, where did you always get do much candy from?!

Overall, you were a nightmare in such rounds but it was especially bad with Bluudud because you apparently found the colours on his lollipop cool.

Tbf, rainbows have always been interesting to kids since the beginning of time so you couldn't entirely be faulted to flocking to him to easily.

But surprisingly, he went easy on you. The other survivors took note how Bluudud seemed to save you for last but that was probably because you were pretty much ego-boost incarnate. Always praising everyone around you...

And although the survivors are split on it, they agreed to include you more in future strategies where you could distract the kids with your speed almost outmatching theirs.

C00lkidd loved having a playmate who can keep up with him, Pr3typriincess could at least style you up and leave you last to parade her 'art' around and Bluudud got a free ego-boost. Win/Win in a way-

At first BD wanted to keep you at an arms length, thinking you were annoying.

Now? He just sighs and let's you ramble on. It's kinda nice to have a fan on the opposing side, in a weird way.

Sometimes he'd have to shut you up though which he found a few headpats were enough to put a pause on your constant praise for a bit until he has to tell you to continue.

It was... Somewhat cute- if you look past him still being a killer.

Sometimes he even wanted to spare you, inviting you back to the killer's cabin to hang out more and although you'd happily agree, the Spectre couldn't have any long-lasting happiness in its realm!

No, it made sure Bluudud knew what it thought but did he care?

Of-fucking-course not. To him, the Spectre was just like an annoying parent so of course it'll be ignored while he happily let's you ramble on and secretly hopes you try to find the killer's cabin in search of him.

And it's not like you didn't try. You tried everytime after rounds.

Unfortunately, the other survivors always made sure to keep you within vision because some of them were parents and your mere presence makes them all feel responsible. Like they have to take care of a child all together to make sure you don't do anything stupid...

Like trying to find your killer buddy...

So sorry for how it turned out, I didn't really have many ideas for this but it was such a cute request!

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[hansrkive]

NO I LOVE YOUs? (SVT)

You did the “not saying i love you” prank.

౨ৎ PAIRING: bf!seventeen x gf!reader

౨ৎ GENRE: fluff and just pure old romance.

౨ৎ TAGS: seventeen as your boyfriend and one-shot.

౨ৎ NOTES: no thoughts tbh i was bored and i saw a prompt on twitter :/

౨ৎ HYPERLINKS: pinned post, ko-fi and seventeen’s master-list.

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL:

His eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Normally, you would say ‘I love you’ and kiss him goodbye, but as you decided to prank him, the normal things you do before he leaves for work were nowhere to be found. “I love you,” he repeated, quickly striding over to you, his hands immediately touching yours. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, his tone laced with worry.

"Nope?" you laughed. "Go and work out, Cheol."

"But you haven't said it yet," he groaned like a five-year-old kid.

"Fine, I love you," you said in defeat. You immediately knew that your prank would backfire, knowing Seungcheol would use his handsome face to lure you back in.

YOON JEONGHAN:

It was probably the worst prank ever. The prank lasted the whole day, and Jeonghan was not having it. For the first few hours, he tried clinging to you like a child. But as he felt that you weren't budging, the room fell into a deafening silence for the next few hours.

"Hey, I'm going grocery shopping. You wanna come?" you asked, entering your bedroom. You waited for an answer, or even a nod. But to your surprise, he just hugged you tightly.

"Whatever prank this is, it's not funny," he mumbled, making you laugh out loud.

"I'm sorry," you chuckled. "I love you."

HONG JISOO:

Pranking Jisoo was not easy. You were scared that he may take it seriously. “Did you learn that prank from your friends?” he asked, his face screaming ‘you’re busted.’

“What do you mean?” you asked, playing dumb.

“You haven’t said ‘I love you’ whenever I say it,” he laughed, scooting over to you. He then planted a kiss on your forehead. “Nice try, babe.”

"Okay, then. I love you," you smiled as your lips touched.

WEN JUNHUI:

"Okay, babe. I'll be back by dinner. I love you!" Junhui said. He was currently at work, and you didn't know how you would do the prank with him miles away from you.

"Have a good day!" you said, quickly ending the call, not giving him a chance to talk. Thinking that he wouldn't call back, you placed your phone on the granite countertop and went back to stirring the soup you were cooking for lunch.

Ring, Ring. Ring. "Hello?" you said.

"I said 'I love you,' babe." It was Junhui, his voice laced with worry. "Is there something wrong?"

"What do you mean, babe?" you laugh. "Go work! Goodbye!" you tried saying fast, but Junhui cut you off.

"Say 'I love you' back, babe!" he moaned out of frustration.

"God, you're like a baby!" you laughed so hard. "I love you."

KWON SOONYOUNG:

To say that Soonyoung was dramatic was an understatement. He was more than dramatic. Once he didn't hear the three words that made his heart flutter, he started groaning, moaning, and crying. "Babe, please!" he sobbed, clutching his heart as if he were having a heart attack.

"You should be an actor, Kwon Soonyoung," you chuckled, pinching his cheeks.

"Before I take my last breath, please, just say it," he gasped, his hands on his throat.

"You are so dramatic." you rolled your eyes. "I love you."

JEON WONWOO:

You thought he couldn't hear you not say 'I love you' since he was busy playing games with his friends — but you thought wrong. "I can't play another game," he said, removing his headset and coming to bed to lie beside you. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his face resting on your shoulder.

"What do you mean?" you asked, setting your book down on your lap.

"Are you mad? I won't play anymore," he mumbled, kissing your shoulder softly.

"Oh, Wonwoo. It was a prank I saw on TikTok," you uttered. "I love you, baby. I'm not mad.

LEE JIHOON:

Jihoon was probably the 'chillest' person you know. When you did the prank, you thought he just didn't care. "Where did you learn that prank?" he asked as he joined you in bed. "You really thought I wouldn't know?" he laughed, spooning you tightly, his body heat radiating onto you.

"I saw it on TikTok," you admitted, feeling embarrassed that he knew all along."

"Don't do that again, please?" he pleaded. "If I hadn't known, I would've pulled what Soonyoung did."

"What did he do?"

"He cried all day." you both laughed.

LEE SEOKMIN:

He thought you were mad at him. You didn't talk to him the whole day because let's face it, you would've laughed at the first chance you get. So, as you and Seokmin were doing your nighttime skincare routine, Seokmin reached for your hand and looked at you with puppy eyes — with a sheet mask covering his face. "Why aren't you saying 'I love you' and why aren't you talking all day?" he groaned.

"Nothing's wrong, babe," you laughed.

"This isn't funny," he sulked.

"Oh, god. I'm sorry," you laughed out loud. "It was a prank. I love you."

"I love you, too," he finally smiled, giving you a kiss.

KIM MINGYU:

Not even ten minutes into the prank, and you couldn't resist Mingyu's charms. "Come on, say it, love!" he laughed, knowing that you were just pranking him.

"I don't know what you want me to say!" you chuckled as he hugged you tightly.

"Say it, love," he mumbled.

"Ugh, fine. I love you." you rolled your eyes. "I can't even prank you."

XU MINGHAO:

You were trying to make breakfast, but for some reason, Minghao couldn't keep his hands away from you. "I love you," he whispered.

"Thank you," you chuckled, starting right away.

"Thank you?" he asked, confusion plastered on his face.

"What's wrong with that?" you questioned.

Instead of questioning you, he started tickling you instead. "Is this a prank or what?"

"Fine, fine! I love you," you said as the two of you were now on the floor, giggling.

BOO SEUNGKWAN:

Even in texting, Seungkwan was the most expressive person you know. So, when you decided you'll do the prank on him, you knew that he would give you a great reaction.

mr. boo seungkwan: ok i'll talk to u la8er. i love you!

you: okay, bye!

mr. boo seungkwan: huh?

As you were about to type, you suddenly got a call from Seungkwan. "Hey, what do you mean?" Seungkwan groaned. "I said, I love you."

"You are so hard to prank, Seungkwan," you said, giving up in just a matter of minutes. "I love you, too."

CHWE HANSOL:

"I love you, I love you, I love you." Hansol yapped in your ear as you tried to ignore him. You have been doing the prank for almost five hours now, and Hansol has reached his tipping point. "I'm not gonna stop, babe. I have all the time in the world."

"Are you not tired?" you laughed as you folded your clean clothes.

"Like I said, babe, I can wait for days," he laughed.

"You're so insufferable," you chuckled. "I love you, too."

LEE CHAN:

You tried to do the prank, you really did. You ignored him all morning, yet it all backfired. "I love you!" you yelled as you were about to leave for work. "No!" you groaned.

"What's wrong?" Chan asked, getting worried as you slumped on the floor.

"I tried doing the 'not saying I love you' prank on you," you fake-sobbed.

"Oh, babe, you're so cute."

[beastyeastfreak]

PLEASE SILENT SALT HEADCANONS AND MY LIFE IS YOURS, LITERALLY ANYTHING SMUT YANDERE FLUFF IDC..

YEAAAAAAH

im doing something short because im busy with my j*b and lowkey demotivated #savemefromhell

The first half will be regular headcanons and the second will be nsfw

Cw and tags: Romantic, silent salt has a cool horse, theyre kinda a typical knight, nsfw, souljam play, clothed sex, GN! Reader, both reader and ssc have ambiguous genitalia

Written before the silent salt update, purely speculative, watch all of this become inaccurate once theyre out

Normal headcanons

🗡️ - Silent salt is a being of solitude, after whatever occured which caused them to become a beast they became the furthest from the group. They inwardly dislike their fellow beasts, the second they see fit to not be around them, they will take the first chance to leave. Their land is as quiet as they are, it echoes with focus and loneliness. Whenever you arrive, witnessing a land dark and barren, you are loud. It doesn’t matter if you are quiet as a mouse, you are loud.

🗡️ - However you manage to even get Silent Salt to willingly stay in your presence is a mystery. Though trying to get them to save you in order to get closer is fruitless, one a light of Solidarity they now would rather be a bystander or the cause of the issue. So what would attract silent salt? A common goal, a similar attitude, or battle prowess that can withstand their own. Despite now disliking the thought of standing as one unit, if you can prove them wrong and stand with them or help them in some way, they may just try to find out more about you.

🗡️ - Their other interests may include, strangely enough, music. Just because it’s a land of silence doesn’t mean you cant listen to a good playlist sometimes. If you want to do be around them, go on a patrol with them. They wont talk but they love to hear you speak while you both ride on their horse together. It gives them the opportunity to be close with you without seeming like theyre returning to their ways.

🗡️ - I think theres no cookie beneath that armor in the sense they lost their ability to connect with others. Whether that represents physically and there is no true cookie body beneath the metal and just a living suit of armor or there is one, they dont want to be seen. Being seen allows another to see themselves in them, to connect, to feel for them. They want to be seen as a machine, unfeeling and cold. But when they hold you and place their helm against you, you feel the warmth, you know a soul remains just deep within.

🗡️ - They definitely try to kiss you, emphasizing try. They either forget they have a helmet on and get caught up in the moment or simply cannot remove the helmet/their head is the helmet and you have to kiss that. Either way, kissing them earns their heart quickly because it shows you don’t mind it and still see them for them. They make up for not being able to do things like that with gifts. Anything from roses from the garden of delights to foods from the farthest kingdom, they will get for you.

Nsfw headcanons below

🗡️ - BOTTOM next question. After years of isolation they would prefer you take the lead, also i doubt they got around much even before they turned. That being said they are very pent up but are always quietly handling it, so when you come around its a huge change to them. They don’t say anything, but you know when they’re ready, they make it pretty clear through body language. This isn’t to say they wont take control, they’re strong and they’d want to use that strength in bed at least once.

🗡️ - Whatever genitalia they have, i dont think matters. If you believe in the ‘just a living suit of armor’ theory like me your next bet is the souljam. They’ll invite you onto their lap after a drawn out fight, slumped slightly. Under the guise of taking care of them, you run your hands over them while whispering lovely little words against their helmet. They flinch as you run over their souljam located around their mid chest with plates of armor molded around it. What sounds like a night breeze wafting through a creaky metal roof is the only way to describe the noise made, their back arching towards you.

🗡️ - While you caress and press along the crystal in repeating motions their souljam, their hands will explore along you, maybe accidentally ripping your clothes a bit but eventually reaching into groping. They’ll enjoy it if you talk them through it, but if they’re in control they’ll try to keep you quiet. Fingers grabbing against your sex while they stand from behind, edging when they feel like it. Their other hand, still armored, rests on your mouth to keep you shut up. Especially funner if you’re in a place with thin walls or where someone could hear.

[raycatz]

*peaks into the LU tag* oh drama?

*tries to find a source* ah them again.

Make what you want forever! LU is an AU and does not adhere strictly to loz canon. LU fanon does not adhere strictly to LU or to loz canon, and how things are written vary between person both within the LU fandom and LOZ.

I agree that the purity "you can't do this" "oh they're siblings" "oh but they're mirror counterparts" shit needs to stop. Creators in the LU fandom struggle with people trying to police this as well. I'm sorry those purity gatekeeping whatever folks tend to come from the LU fandom. It pisses me off too. It's something creators on both sides are fighting!

LU is one comic and headcanons/background in that comic and in the fandom do not apply across the board to other linksmeets. However, LU is going to be what many people are coming from and I can understand that that's frustrating.

I also agree that there's a lot of game knowledge not used or known in LU fandom stuff. Everyone is coming from different places of access to the games or time to watch let's plays. Doing homework and research should not be a requirement to engage with fandom. It should be something someone wants to do for fun. If you don't like their interpretation, block and move on.

and I'm sure guilt tripping and insulting people is a great method to get them to do what you want /sarcasm

The LU fandom was once a lot better / gave a lot more focus to researching and comparing and contrasting the games. A lot of the initial character building in the earlier fandom days was from dissecting the games and it was SO MUCH FUN. I think that part of the fandom has kind of died down and it's unfortunate. More prevalence is given to the existing fanon instead of understanding where or why that fanon came about, or looking to the games. (whenever I see people asking for if there's a fandom consensus on something I have to resist the urge to tell them that There Is None. There are more frequent uses, but no One Right Way to do something, and that's how it should be. Write what you think is most interesting without worrying about what others may expect. The beauty in the LU fandom for a while was how varied the fandom made the designs, or hcs. It was almost as though each portrayal was it's own slightly different LinksMeet and we were just sharing the cast and building them up together, and that has pretty much come to a slow and steady halt.) (There are youtube videos about the LU characters even which fail to differentiate between LU comic canon, LOZ canon, Jojo's Q&As, and fanon, and it's frustrating!) However, it is what it is? Imo we, (I?-) Should be doing what we can to disambiguate the information instead of picking fights.

I should not be giving time to LU drama rn. However, if people want resources on game info or character analysis hit me up!

There's a good number of LU posts that explore the characters from a game perspective (granted that they're from the LU fandom 2020~2022). If you want to know where a fandom hc came from there are explanations. There are a number of websites for accurate loz game info, and I have playthroughs I could recommend.

[arabe11as]

What to do with you.

warnings: soft!sias alex, no smut but definitely some tension

You’ve been floating around the band’s orbit for a while now — friends with Nick, Jamie, and Matt. You’ve tagged along to afterparties, festivals, even the odd writing session. You’re not quite in the thick of it, but you’re there. Always kind. Always quiet. Always just on the edge of their inner circle.

But Alex?

He barely spares you a glance. Never starts a conversation. Turns the other way the second you walk into a room.

You figure it’s obvious — he just doesn’t like you. Probably thinks you’re annoying. Out of place.

It’s what you’re telling yourself, anyway, the night you’re sat alone on a fire escape at some half-decent LA hotel, watching the streets below still glow with life even though it’s well past 2 a.m.

Your eyes sting, and you tell yourself it’s just from being tired. A long day, too much noise, not enough sleep. But deep down, you know it isn’t that. It’s the kind of sting that comes from holding in too much for too long — the slow crawl of anxiety, pressing against your ribs like it’s trying to escape.

You hear footsteps behind you — slow, uneven. The kind of hesitant steps someone makes when they’re not sure if they should be there at all. You don’t turn around at first, thinking maybe it’s just some drunk guest or someone looking for a smoke. But then you feel it — that pull. Like the air has shifted.

You glance up, and your heart catches.

It’s him.

Alex.

He’s standing a few feet away, half-lit by the yellow glow of a hallway light spilling through the open fire escape door. His hair’s a little messy, and he looks like he’s just thrown on a hoodie over whatever he was sleeping in. There’s something unreadable in his expression — not cold, not exactly soft either. Just… alert.

You wipe at your face quickly with the sleeve of your jacket, pretending it’s casual, like you’re just brushing hair out of your eyes. “Hi.”

His gaze flicks over your face, steady but not sharp — like he’s trying to make sense of something, like he sees something cracked that you’ve worked hard to keep hidden.

He doesn’t say anything right away, just steps a little closer, then crouches near you. Not close enough to crowd you, but near enough that you feel the warmth of him in the cool night air.

“You alright?” he asks, voice low, rough with sleep.

You let out a laugh that sounds far too brittle. “Yeah. Fine. Just needed some air.”

He doesn’t look convinced.

“You’re cryin’.”

“No, I’m not,” you say, too fast. You even manage a half-smile, like that’ll seal the lie. “It’s just this thing — when I’m tired, my eyes get all watery.”

He tilts his head slightly, one eyebrow raised like he wants to say, Really? But he doesn’t call you out on it.

Instead, he eases down beside you, back against the wall, long legs stretched out beside yours. He doesn’t touch you, but his shoulder is close — close enough that you can feel the heat of him through your sleeves, close enough to make your breath catch.

Silence settles between you. Not awkward. Just… weighty. Like something unsaid is hovering between your shoulders, and he feels it too.

You look down at your hands, picking at the skin around your thumb. “Sorry,” you murmur. “Did I wake you?”

He shakes his head, slow. “Nah. I weren’t asleep.”

You glance at him, and he’s already looking out over the street, eyes half-lidded like he’s somewhere else entirely.

The hum of traffic and distant music wafts up from below, mixing with the faint buzz of a neon sign down the block. LA never sleeps, and neither, apparently, does he.

“Could hear the door go,” he says after a beat, like that explains everything. “Figured it were you. Dunno why.”

You smile, just a little. “Maybe I stomp loud.”

He huffs a quiet laugh through his nose. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve got some weird sixth sense for when someone’s sat cryin’ on a fire escape at two in the bloody mornin’.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no heat in it. “I told you, I wasn’t crying.”

He shifts slightly, head turned toward you now. His voice softens, rough with sleep but gentler than you’ve ever heard it. “You don’t have to lie to me, y’know.”

You don’t reply. Not right away. Your throat’s too tight, and besides, what would you even say?

I thought you hated me.

I thought I was invisible. I don’t even know why this is getting to me tonight, but it is, and I just wanted somewhere quiet to fall apart for a bit.

Instead, you shrug. “Didn’t want to be dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” He sounds almost amused. “Christ. You’re the least dramatic person I’ve ever met. That’s sort of your thing, innit?”

You snort at that, wiping your nose with the cuff of your sleeve again, embarrassed. “What, being dead boring?”

“No,” he says, and you glance sideways at him to find him already looking at you. “Just… quiet. Like you don’t ask for much. Like you’re just waitin’ for someone to notice.”

That hits you harder than you expect.

You go still, blinking fast. You’re not sure if it’s what he said or the way he said it — plain, like he wasn’t trying to make it sound nice. Just honest.

“I didn’t think you liked me,” you say, barely above a whisper.

Alex looks down at his hands, rubs his thumb over the edge of his sleeve, then back up at you. “Why d’you think I’ve not said owt?”

You shrug again. “You never talk to me.”

“Maybe I didn’t know how.”

For a second, you’re not sure you heard him right — not sure if the night, the city, your tired brain is playing tricks on you.

But then he shifts, a little uneasy, running a hand through his hair like he regrets saying anything at all.

“I don’t think it’s that I don’t like you,” he says again, quieter now. “It’s just… sometimes you make me nervous. I dunno—maybe I like you too much.”

You turn to him slowly, the words sinking in like warm water after a cold day. He’s staring straight ahead, like he can’t quite bring himself to look at you now that it’s out in the open.

His knee bounces just slightly, and there’s a tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there before.

“You like me,” you echo, stunned.

He grimaces like it physically pains him to admit. “Fuckin’ hell, don’t say it like that.”

You laugh — a real one this time. It bubbles out before you can stop it, too loud for how quiet the street below has gotten. He glances at you then, eyes narrowing just slightly in fake offence.

“Sorry,” you say, biting your lip to stop smiling. “Just… I really thought you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you.” His voice is low, serious now. “I just didn’t know what to do with you.”

You blink. “What does that even mean?”

He finally looks at you properly, and it’s the first time it feels like there’s nothing guarded in his expression — no turning away, no unreadable mask. Just him, tired and honest, staring straight through all the walls you didn’t even realise you were still holding up.

“You walk into a room,” he says, “and suddenly I forget how to act normal. Dunno what to say. My brain just goes weird. So I avoid you. It’s stupid.”

You don’t say anything, but something shifts in your chest, a tight knot you’ve been carrying for months starting to loosen. The way he says it — my brain just goes weird — it’s so painfully, embarrassingly human.

And kind of sweet.

“Why now?” you ask, voice soft.

He shrugs, kicking at the concrete with the toe of his trainer. “Saw you out here alone. Looked like you needed someone. Figured… maybe I could be that.”

You nudge your shoulder lightly against his. “Even if your brain goes weird?”

He huffs a laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Yeah. Even then.”

The silence comes back, but this time it’s different — gentle, settled. Your shoulder stays resting against his. A car horn echoes faintly from a few blocks over. The city hums on.

“I don’t think you’re weird,” you say after a moment.

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” he murmurs with a smile — small, lopsided, but real. His voice is soft, still wrapped in that Sheffield drawl, and before you can even come up with a reply, he’s reaching out gently.

His hand brushes under your eye, knuckles rough but touch careful as he wipes away a tear you didn’t realise was still hanging on. “So,” he says, thumb lingering just a second too long, “what’s got you all upset then, aye?”

You laugh, but it cracks at the edges. “Dunno. Everything, I guess.”

He hums low in his throat. Doesn’t rush you. Doesn’t joke or change the subject. Just lets it hang there.

You glance at him, then away again — out over the streetlights and traffic below. “It’s just hard sometimes. Being around all of you, feeling like I’m always… orbiting. Everyone’s loud and funny and talented and— I don’t know— I just end up feeling like the weird outsider that no one really notices. Except when I’m in the way.”

He’s quiet. So quiet, it makes you nervous again, until he speaks.

“I notice you.”

Your head turns, slowly. His eyes meet yours, steady and serious now.

“I always have,” he says. “I just didn’t know what the fuck to do with that.”

You open your mouth, then close it again,

because again…

what the hell are you supposed to say to that?

He shifts beside you, a little closer now, his knee brushing yours. “You don’t have to try so hard, y’know. You being here… being you… it’s enough.”

You blink fast, eyes burning again, but this time for a different reason.

Alex nudges you lightly with his shoulder. “And if anyone makes you feel like you don’t belong,” he says, “tell me, yeah? I’ll have words.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “You threatening your own band?”

He shrugs. “If I have to.”

A long silence follows, but it’s not heavy anymore. It’s warm, calm, like something finally clicked into place.

You wipe your face again and let out a long breath. “Thanks.”

He glances sideways at you. “Don’t thank me yet. I’m probably gonna say something dead awkward in about ten seconds.”

You smile. “I’ll allow it.”

He shrugs, a tiny blush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, well. I’m not always a dickhead.”

You laugh, and he grins like he’s proud of that.

Then, almost without thinking, he lifts an arm — slow, careful — and wraps it around your shoulders. “C’mere,” he murmurs.

You hesitate just a second before leaning into him, letting your head rest lightly against his chest. He smells like fresh laundry and cigarette smoke, familiar and comforting all at once. His thumb brushes softly up and down your arm in a rhythm so gentle you barely notice it.

You sigh. Not a sad one — the kind that says you’ve finally let go of something heavy.

“Better?” he asks quietly.

You nod. “Yeah. Way better.”

“Good.” He rests his chin on top of your head, his voice muffled slightly in your hair.

Still wrapped in his arms, you lift your chin to rest gently against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. His hands tighten slightly around your shoulders, warm and sure.

He leans down, voice low and teasing. “You alright, love?”

You glance up at him, eyes catching the soft light, catching the hint of something wild and tender all at once. You know exactly what he’s about to do — that familiar spark in his gaze, the way his breath catches just before—

“Alex…” you whisper, voice barely steady.

His lips find yours before you can say more. Soft at first, tentative, then deeper, the kiss sliding open slowly, his tongue slipping inside to explore. Your fingers thread into the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer even as your breath catches.

“Not here,” you murmur against his lips, heart pounding.

He smirks into the kiss, voice husky with promise. “Yes, here.”

His hands trail down your back, warm and insistent, holding you tight. The city noise fades into nothing, swallowed by the quiet rhythm of your shared breaths and the heat radiating between you.

You feel him press you gently against the cool wall behind, his mouth moving against yours with growing urgency but never losing the tenderness. Every touch, every kiss, says more than words ever could.

“Shh,” he breathes, his forehead resting against yours. “Nobody’s watching.”

Your hands slip beneath his shirt, skin warm beneath your fingertips.

Before things can get too heated, his hands start to wander a little too far for your comfort.

You gently press against his chest, just enough to pause him, to catch his eyes. His breath is heavy, matching yours, mouths still close, lips barely brushing.

“Are you going to fuck me on the fire escape, Alex?” you giggle, teasing.

“Aye,” he smirks, eyes dark and amused, “I’m not complaining.”

You roll your eyes, swatting his arm. “Alright, give over.”

He grins, cocky as ever, but leans in to kiss your cheek instead—soft, slow, like he’s making up for getting carried away.

“Let me take you back to bed,” Alex says, voice low but serious.

You grin, shaking your head. “No funny business, Turner.”

He laughs softly, the kind of laugh that rumbles in his chest and makes your heart flutter. “Promise.”

He stands, offering you his hand to help you up. His touch is steady, warm. You take it without hesitation, feeling the electricity in that simple connection.

As you walk back inside, side by side, the city’s noise fades into the background, and all that matters is the soft glow of the room waiting for you both.

Alex leans close, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Sleep well, yeah? I’ll be right here.”

You smile up at him, heart full. “I think I will.”

And for once, the night feels like it’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.

[redheadsramblings]

WIP Whenever and Last Line

I'm going to combine the two because I am a disaster human and the tags got away from me

I was tagged by the lovely @theyearningghoul @woundedsoul12 @notyourmamasdeerbat @thequeenofthewinter @pseudospaceship @sunny374940 @crimsen-khalessi @holdingontojupiter @guacamolleee @tinygameralec @babydinosaur930 @paramortality @dragonracer @scuttlingcrab @hedwigoprah and @tacoteddy22

Told you the tags got away from me 😅

This is all from my secret but not really current WIP. If you know you know and if you don't you'll see soon hopefully 😉🤞

WIP Whenever

Emmrich groaned as he regained consciousness. It had been centuries since he'd last experienced the sensation and he had not missed it at all. The fact that something had managed to render him unconscious was a cause for concern but the greater one was if his love was alright. And so he fought the pull of that inky blackness and slowly opened his eyes. The sight that met him took his breath away. He was suspended in a glowing azure mist and all around him danced twinkling motes of light. Raising his hand to reach out to one he was arrested at the sight before him. A living flesh and blood hand met his eyes and he quickly brought the other up to see it was exactly the same. And it was no glamour he knew that, whatever this place was it had made the impossible possible and he knew to be cautious of such power.

Glancing around and down he was chagrined to find himself utterly and completely naked with out even a scrap of clothing to preserve his modesty. He couldn't even summon something though Maker knows he did try for while his magic was there it was as slippery and elusive as it had been the very first day he'd felt it's power. He resolved to not think to much on his state of undress and hoped he wouldn't met anything or anyone that would cause it to go from disconcerting to embarrassment. He knew he should be concerned about dangers but he knew, all though he couldn't say how exactly, that he was safe here even if he had no idea where here was.

Resolving to avoid thinking about his current au naturel state he decided to move forward to investigate if the mist had a limit, hoping to meet rock or perhaps wood. Though he thought the latter unlikely due to the sheer amount of power swirling around him. And so he drifted in a straight onward direction though without any descendible landmarks he could be going in circles for all the landscape told him. He could even not be moving at all for all the mist changed, oh it swirled and whirled very prettily about him but he hadn't the faintest feeling that he was actually moving and that was deeply frustrating. All these centuries he'd studied the Fade and he might as well know nothing at all. He couldn't even be sure this was the Fade as it was like nothing he'd ever encountered or heard of anyone encountering. For all the mutable nature of the Fade it still followed some rules, it was a reflection of the mortal world but shaped through dreams and nightmares alike but it still had rules. Unlike this blasted place!

Last Line

"Hellohellohellohellohellohellohello—"

No pressure tagging @the-font-bandit @blightedcrow @libdibs @officialnostradamus @serbarris @ferocious-notes @emmg @themontess @mosoderbergh @randomnonsensedragonage @galacticsparkles @mistressandry @scottysketches @draco-illius-noctis @theroseunblown @jukkaricity @danyrics @jochiemgrace @crystalinn @curiouswisp @queenmuzz @andthekitchensinkao3 @lavenderprose @caughtnyact @gomezwrinkles @sofiemystique @crystallpistol @shootingstar7123 @omabell-illustriert @aiyestel @soeasilyswayed @novaobscurity @ermagerdperpehs @kirain @razildor @pwney @mojo-bro-tho @theshotsheardacrossworlds @dymme @aetherflowers @handsignals @avoskorm @basic-x-witch @mercars-musings @ar-ghilas-vir-banal @silshinobii @serstolas and anyone who sees this and fancies a go tag you're it 😁

Dividers are by @flowersforthemachines and can be found here

If you would like to go on my tag list, I have a post here where you can sign up

[fushiglow]

Share the first lines of ten of your latest fanfics (or up to if you have fewer) and tag ten people.

Thank you for the tags, @detta-pica and @hollow-lime-green! I cheated by posting a whole new fic before having a go at this, but there we go. The first fic in this list marks my 34th upload to AO3 for the Jujutsu Kaisen fandom which... Fine. Yeah. Looking forward to celebrating number 40 sometime later this year, I guess.

Let's have a look then...

1. Five Days of Summer

Summer is an endless gasp for breath. It shudders past August and into September. It rattles damp and desperate around Suguru’s lungs. It persists without pause, leaving him aching for relief.

Turned that over in my brain for a whole day. Needed the opening of the fic to capture its essence immediately. It's fire for a reason.

2. Energy

It was a long way down. Long enough to survive the fall? Probably, for him, but was he really going to risk that? A fate splattered on the grimy streets in the bowels of the city for some bleeder to ransack whatever remained of his body? His best friend?

Star Wars AU, my beloved. I wanted to withhold the POV from the reader for a little while since part one, Balance, is told from Megumi's POV. The fic summary spoils it, but alas.

Part two and the currently unpublished part three were originally the other way around, but I decided I wanted to give part three (exclusive spoiler! It's called Warmth and it's a very fitting title) a bit more emotional oomph, so we went back in time a little further first. I'm enjoying the non-linear storytelling of Star Wars AU a lot.

3. Phantom Power

Looking back, Suguru had been stupid to believe everything would simply slot back into its rightful place the moment Satoru came home. Impressively stupid, even for him. It had been easier falling asleep with Satoru’s familiar weight in the bed next to him. It had been easier to drift off tangled in his too tight hold. But they must have rolled away from each other at some point during the night, because Suguru was cold when he awoke in the darkness.

This is kind of cheating since it's the opening to the most recent chapter of a multi-chapter fic, but all of the chapters are standalone shorts so I'm saying it counts. It's also very beautiful with gorgeous accompanying art by bean! This is (not) just a plug!

4. A Cappella 

I could do that. It was the errant thought that passed through Suguru’s mind as he watched Sugar from yet another angle. Childish, really. With his face pressed into his pillow, drawstrings of his hoodie (Satoru’s hoodie) pulled tight around his chin, Suguru dragged the scrubber back to the start and watched the video again.

I watched so many Tiktok dance challenges during the process of creating this oneshot, mostly this one by San from ATEEZ. So we've got Santoru, SaTENru and... Jackson Wang. Yeah, I can't find a way to merge their names, but they're the three main influences on threshold!Satoru at this point. Honourable mention to Taemin, too.

Anyway, make sex sad again!

5. Race You to the Bottom 

Satoru usually enjoyed holidaying with his friends. Usually. However, even putting aside the pandemonium that was the Swiss Alps in the middle of February, it was quickly becoming clear that a group ski trip was Utahime's worst idea yet.

Sigh, take me back to ski fic...

Kidding, I think. I definitely look back on this fic with rose-tinted glasses because it turned out so well and I had so much fun writing the first two chapters especially. However, the last one was hard work. Basically, turns out I enjoyed writing the actual extreme sport more than I enjoyed writing the, uh, extreme sport.

6. Taste Test 

‘Is it a knife?’ he blurted, excited both by the prospect of winning a point and the implications. ‘Is this your way of telling me you want to try knife play?’

The opening lines are just the summary of the fic, so here's Suguru being a horny kinky bastard instead.

7. erase me

Gojō sits in his car and cries. He’s so sick of winter. He can’t remember the last time the sun shone on this shitty little town. Thinks it was probably— Gojō doesn’t want to think about Suguru. Gojō always wants to think about Suguru.

Your honour, I slayed. Severance AU is peak (fan)fiction. And the opening makes it if you ask me. The whole thing reads (and looks) like a poem and I love that.

8. Summer's Last Cherry

Suguru wore his twenty seven years well.

Simply because this fic is tagged "canon compliant", oops.

9. Over the Threshold 

The beat dropped and Satoru went with it, falling to his hands and knees as though gravity had become irresistible. He began moving against the floor like it was his lover, gyrating his pelvis in effortless synchronisation with the gaggle of dancers surrounding him. His soaking wet tank top left little to the imagination, clinging to his torso in a way that was only somewhat offset by the baggy cargo pants that sat obscenely low on his hips. From the shaggy mop of waves atop his head to the chunky combat boots hugging his calves, Satoru was a vision in white, cast in a cerulean hue under the studio lights.

The actual opening is a definition of limiting (which I agonised over a lot, it's important!) but these are the opening lines of the actual fiction. I wrote this so long ago and it's one solid paragraph, which is interesting, because it's not often that I open a fic with a long paragraph like this. It makes sense here, because it's basically a description of the video Suguru is watching rather than any close internal monologue. It gets increasingly silly as Suguru forms an opinion and we drop into his POV, and although I had doubts about the opening to Over the Threshold in the past, I love it these days. I think it conveys the premise and also themes of the fic very quickly.

By the way, I make a direct reference to that last sentence in chapter 14, coming god knows when. Sooner rather than later, I hope.

10. A WIP?? A WIP???

It begins quietly. The instrumentalists arranged on the stage settle into stillness. A cellist at the back of the ensemble taps his bow along his D string on a pedal point played portato. The violins ease in with an eerie whine, playing a dissonant interval suspended over that single sustained tone. Still, the two performers positioned at the centre of the string orchestra remain motionless.

This will probably be the next fic I post (?) and, yeah, I'm sorry it's not Vocal Rest. It's that other music AU I know a few people have been waiting for instead. It's really just AO3 user greaterglow being a nerd about music but in a slightly different font. Who'd have thought?

I'm going to be so honest. The reason I delayed making this post is mostly because I wanted to avoid including ~certain works~ that make me a bit sad, so I waited until I'd posted Five Days of Summer and padded it out with a WIP of music AU number 5725 😭 However, because of this post, I literally pulled up a new doc to start writing the daddy!Satoru pairing for ~that fic~ so I can reclaim it for myself.

I hate that harassment has soured my feelings about a work that was made with so much love for someone who means very much to me. I still haven't replied to a single comment on it, I just pretend it doesn't exist. So, we're going to fix that with an equally emotional and, this time, extremely self indulgent "daddy" counterpart. Make of that what you will.

(If you've spent any amount of time reading my fics, it shouldn't be that hard to work out the angle I'm taking with this, honestly. It's going to be fantastic.)

—

I really don't know who to tag since I'm very late to this and don't know anyone with 10 fanfics who hasn't already done this challenge! However, it was fun looking back through various works! I love yapping about my writing and I'll always take any opportunity to do so!

[fkinkindagauche]

A Monstrous Nature

So excited to finally be able to post my gift fic for the @harringrove-summer-exchange, for @keaganz! She listed the following as things she'd like to see in the fic, and I think I may have got them all: Top Billy/Bottom Steve, Upside-Down shenanigans, angst with a happy ending, smut, hurt/comfort. Hope you like it!

It was absolutely inspired by @safk-art's stunning Demo Steve art, highly encourage everyone to go check that out.

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Billy Hargove/Steve Harrington WC: 6,018 Content Warnings: Blood and gore (canon-typical) Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Billy Hargrove Lives, Demogorgon Steve Harrington, Canon-Typical Violence, Tentacle Sex, Top Billy Hargrove, Bottom Steve Harrington, Monster Steve Harrington, Monsterfucker Billy Hargrove, Light Dom/sub, Bathing/Washing, Insecurity, Blood and Injury, Rimming, Anal Sex Summary:

Billy follows Steve into the Upside Down during one of his patrols, against Steve's wishes. He sees Steve's monstrous side, but the effect is not what Steve expected.

Full fic is on AO3, excerpt is below.

divider by @/strangergraphics

Steve was in a terrible mood as he patrolled the Upside Down looking for demo-creatures to cull. Billy had been livid when Steve left for the evening. He'd been in the trenches of another explosive argument after Billy demanded to come with Steve on his patrol. It was an argument they'd had repeatedly over the year they'd been together. Every time the group located another gate, Steve went in to clear the area in the Upside Down and ensure no demo-creatures leaked into Hawkins. And every time, Billy wanted to come help him.

Steve winced as he went back over the things they'd yelled at each other this time. He was particularly ashamed of calling Billy a "boringly human Upside Down reject". But in his defense, he'd said it after Billy had called him a "deranged flower-faced shit". Steve had slammed the door so hard on his way out of the house that he'd heard glass breaking in the living room.

He didn't understand why Billy insisted on trying to come with him. Steve was uniquely well-suited to this task after all the changes he'd undergone from the demodog bites in the tunnels. Billy, thanks to early intervention from Steve when he'd noticed the creeping presence of the Mind Flayer, was still fully human. He couldn't take on packs of demodogs in the Upside Down and come out unscathed, not the way Steve could.

Steve was pulled from his perseveration by rustling sounds in the trees around him. The gate had appeared near the Henderson house this time, bordering a patch of woods nearby. The human portion of his ears picked up only a vague rustling, and he was unable to accurately place the size and location of whatever was pursuing him.

He focused on the delicate seams along his jaws, instructing his muscles to release the tension holding them together. His head unfurled like a flower, his face opening to reveal a central gaping maw and five petal-like structures lined with razor-sharp teeth.

His senses unfolded along with his head. He could feel the vibrations of the world around him with the thin filaments that filled the spaces between all of the teeth. He could smell so much more with the olfactory organs hidden at the core of the mouth than he could with his human nose.

His brain parsed the new influx of vibrations and scents, sifting through the information to tell him that there were two demodogs in the trees to his right. They weren't even particularly big ones. This would be easy. He flexed his hands, popping his claws out of their sheaths, and waited.

The two demodogs burst from the trees, heading straight toward him. He caught a whiff of an out-of-place scent just before he heard a full-throated human scream. Someone threw themself between Steve and the demodogs.

He placed the scent a moment later - Billy. The fucker had followed Steve in.

Steve felt the vibrations in the air as Billy swung something long and wooden at the closest demodog, hitting it across the torso. He must've stolen Steve's bat. The demodog howled as the conical shape of its head unfurled. The second demodog dove at Billy while he was distracted. Steve sensed the movement in the air as the dog's mouth snapped near Billy's bare arm.

Steve threw himself at the second demodog, driving it to the ground and biting its head off before it could fight back. The first demodog had its mouth wrapped around the bat now, and was slowly pulling Billy toward it.

Steve raked his claws across its torso and it dropped the bat with a startled yelp. He grabbed its head between his two clawed hands, flexing the modified muscles there, and wrenched it sharply to the side. Its neck snapped and the head partially tore free from the body, spurting blood all over Steve.

Steve turned to Billy. He slowly furled the petals of his head, fitting them together to reform his face. Billy stared at him with wide eyes and an indecipherable expression on his face.

Billy hadn't been fully himself during the fight with the Mind Flayer, when the party had come together to save him from its grasp before it could get a firm hold in his mind. He didn't remember what Steve had done then to protect everyone. And since then, Steve had tried to keep this violent, monstrous side of himself from Billy as much as possible. Why had Billy followed him?

Before Steve could descend fully into his burgeoning worries, he picked up on a set of new vibrations with his lingering demo-senses. He could tell even from a distance that it was much bigger than a pair of demodogs.

"We need to go, now!" Steve snapped. He grabbed Billy by the arm and started to run back toward the gate.

Billy shook off his arm and planted his feet. "What? Why? I can help you if there's something else coming!"

Steve grabbed Billy's arm again and tugged. Billy didn't budge. "No, you can't. You're human. What if one of them bites you, and you turn into a fucked up demo-creature?"

Billy shrugged. "Then we'll match."

Steve let out a strangled cry. He gave up on trying to convince Billy. He used his preternatural strength to grab Billy around the waist and throw him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Billy yelled. He beat his fists against Steve's back hard enough to bruise. "Put me down, you sick fuck!"

Steve ignored him and bolted for the gate. He could sense multiple full-grown demogorgons approaching them, probably three, as well as a handful of demodogs. They were getting closer fast. There was no way Steve was going to beat them to the gate with Billy's added weight to carry.

He scanned his surroundings. About 100 feet ahead of them was a large clearing. If Steve could get there, he'd at least be able to fight the hoard with a clear line of sight. He sprinted toward it as he felt the pursuers approaching.

Steve dropped Billy to the ground. Billy's eyes went wide as his limited ears finally picked up on the noises of the demogorgons.

"Shit," he muttered. He stood up, gripping the nail bat.

"Stand with your back to me," Steve said. "Swing as hard as you can whenever they come at you." Dread crept through his veins. He didn't want to lose Billy.

As the first demogorgon crashed into the clearing, Steve unfurled his head and squeezed out his claws. The demogorgon darted straight for Steve. Steve dealt with it easily with a swipe from his claws, knocking it to the side with a gaping wound in its abdomen. It wasn't dead, but that would slow it down considerably.

Steve was stronger and faster than the demogorgons. Taking on three would usually be no problem for him. But adding Billy into the mix was really going to fuck with his methods.

He felt Billy swing his bat at a demodog as the second demogorgon rushed Steve. He tried the same move on this one, but it dodged and swiped at Steve with its own claws. Steve took the hit, not wanting to interfere with Billy's fight by moving back to dodge. Pain seared through his abdomen as the claws tore his skin, but he knew it would heal fast. Demo scratches and bites never stuck around for long on his body.

He feinted with his claws again then lunged for the demogorgon's neck with his mouth as it dodged his claws. He sank his teeth into the meat there and tore, pulling a large amount of circulatory system back out with him. The demogorgon fell to the ground, twitching as it bled out.

Billy grunted behind him as a demodog yelped. The final demogorgon circled around in an attempt to go for Billy instead of Steve. That wouldn't do. Steve launched himself at the demogorgon, abandoning Billy in favor of taking this monster down before it got to him.

Steve scuffled with the demogorgon, taking a few more scratches and one nasty bite before he managed to latch onto its neck. He felt several demodogs piling up on his back, biting and scratching. Good, that meant they weren't going for Billy. He ripped out the demogorgon's throat, then grabbed the two demodogs off his back and threw them into the trees. He heard them yelp, then flee into the trees.

He turned back to Billy. He could sense one final demodog circling Billy as the other man waved the bat in front of him. The demodog lunged for Billy, wrenching its jaws open just as Steve reached him.

Steve gripped the last demodog around the head just before its jaws snapped shut on Billy's neck. He shut its mouth and continued to squeeze, increasing pressure with his huge, clawed hands. He kept going until the entire conical head popped beneath his hands in a startling explosion of gore. It sprayed across Billy's face and the front of his body, coating him in blood and brain matter and bits of flesh.

Billy sputtered, spitting chunks of flesh out of his mouth. "Fucking ew," he muttered, wiping a hand across his face.

Steve surveyed the scene. Two demodogs lay dead at Billy's feet in addition to the last one that Steve had killed. The wounded demogorgon was long gone. There were no surviving demodogs in the area.

Steve drew in the petals of his head, but kept his claws unsheathed. "Did you get bit?" Steve asked, once he had a human mouth again.

Billy shook his head. He was covered in gore, but Steve hoped it was mostly demo-blood.

"Let's get out of here," Steve said. He'd done what he came here to do - cleared the area around the floating gate of creatures before they could make their way into Hawkins. They needed to get back before the gate closed. No one had been able to figure out why these floating gates kept appearing, but they never stayed open for more than a day. Steve tried to only spend two hours tops on the inside, to make sure he didn't get stuck.

Steve couldn't decipher the look on Billy's face, but after what he had just seen Steve do, it couldn't mean anything good. He'd get Billy back to safety and make sure to take care of any of his wounds before Billy inevitably broke up with him.

Billy followed Steve silently to the gate and back into Hawkins.

Looking for the comfort? Finish the fic on AO3!