#And I only knew it was them cause they did the 'My work here is done' crouch walk away

[pathologicalreid]

Spencer x fem!reader fic based on “Work Song” by Hozier?? Whatever storyline or category you want!!

work song | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, near death experience, blood, gunshot wound, hospitals. word count: 1.77k a/n: hozier song request makes my brain go brr. i hope the people of tumblr enjoy this bc i most definitely enjoyed writing it.

boys, when my baby found me

Your hair whipped your face as you spun around through the labyrinth of a warehouse that your team had found themselves in. It seemed like an impossible task, trying to navigate this space, but you had already cleared over half of the space.

A small noise, like a shoe squeaking, caught your attention, causing your ears to rise like an animal hunting for prey. Turning a corner, you had your flashlight and firearm raised, coming face to face with Morgan. The both of you relaxed ever so slightly, no longer ready to pounce.

Ricocheting throughout the warehouse, you heard a deafening gunshot. The sound bounced off of the metal walls of the building, making it almost impossible for you to determine where the sound originated from. Meeting Morgan’s eyes, he nodded his head to the left, signaling for you to go that way while he went right.

You affirmed his tactics, turning slowly and making your way to the left. The rusted building was now so eerily quiet that goosebumps were sprouting across your body, even under your bureau jacket.

Continuing your way down the narrow passageway, you saw movement inside of a room. Sliding your back along the wall, you peeked into the room, seeing two bodies on the ground. You whispered almost imperceptibly into your radio, calling for medical. One of them was the local officer that the BAU had been working the case with.

The other one was Spencer.

You pivoted so that you were entirely in the doorway, facing the UnSub, he raised his gun at you, but you were already pulling the trigger, hitting him square in the forehead. Breathing heavily, you lowered your firearm before scrambling over to Spencer.

I didn’t care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her

In your ear, you could hear Morgan shouting, “Y/N, Reid, sound off, dammit!”

Something needed to happen. You needed to do something, but you had such severe tunnel vision that the only thing you could think about was Spencer.

He was gasping for air on the metal ground of the warehouse, lying in a pool of his own blood. You observed in horror as the red puddle spread with each passing moment.

Launching into action, you tugged your jacket off, stuffing the fabric onto Spencer’s side in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Even Kevlar vests had an Achilles heel, and the UnSub had managed to strike him precisely where there was a gap in the material. All the while, you were muttering the words, “Stay awake.” Just those two words, over and over again, like a prayer.

You hummed, using one hand to apply pressure to his wound and lifting the other so that you could smooth his hair back. His skin was alarmingly clammy, and you knew that, even with your attempts, he was losing too much blood. “Y/N,” he muttered, sounding like he was using all of his strength to say your name.

Gently, you hushed him, “It’s okay, Spence. Don’t talk, you’re gonna be just fine,” you insisted as his blood soaked through the knees of your jeans. You weren’t sure who you were trying to console at that moment.

“It makes sense-“ he said, being cut off by a cough, sending blood spurting out of his mouth. If his lung was collapsing, there was nothing you’d be able to do. You tried to shush him again, but he had more to say – he almost always did. “That I’d see you while I’m dying.”

Choking on tears, you leaned your face onto your shoulder so that you could wipe them away without moving your hands. “I’m here, I’m really here,” you urged, he wasn’t hallucinating, and he wasn’t dying. Not on your watch. “It’s me, Spence. I’m right here,” you told him carefully.

He opened his mouth again to speak, and you wanted to tell him to save his strength. You also didn’t want to deprive him of his words. “You…” his voice trailed off as he searched for the words, “You’ve always been my favorite dream.”

Sniffling, you shake your head, “I’m not a dream, I’m right here.” You told him, watching carefully as his eyelids grew seemingly heavier, “baby, open your eyes.”

in the low lamplight I was free

His skin was pallid. Even in the dim, orange light of the warehouse, you could see a sickly sheen forming on his skin. His body temperature was dropping, and it was all you could do to not cover his body with yours as you tried to keep him warm. “Spencer, please,” you rasped, urging him to open his eyes.

Your only solace was that his chest was still rising and falling. His breathing was rickety, but he was still breathing, and that had to count for something. “Spencer,” you cried, watching as blood sept through your jacket, flooding between your fingers as you tried to keep him in one piece.

“Love, open your eyes,” you begged, your eyes flooding with tears until everything was just a blur of red.

His heart was beating, you could feel it beneath your hands. A weak, unsteady beat under your trembling hands. “Baby, please, oh my god,” you pleaded, verging toward incoherent babbling.

You were second-guessing if he was still breathing. If his heart was still beating. With that realization, you screamed.

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

At first, you were just screaming, letting the vibrations of your vocal cords portray your emotions, and then you screamed for your team. You had never felt more alone, kneeling in a puddle of Spencer’s blood, and no one was coming to help you.

This couldn’t be how it ended. You refused to acknowledge it, even as you felt the life leave his body.

Leaning your head to the side, you spoke into your radio, “I need medical. I’m in the upper west wing of the building. The suspect is dead, I have an officer and an agent down.” Tears continued to stream down your face.

You heard footsteps behind you as people piled into the room, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off Spencer. Not when there was a chance that it would be the last time you looked at him while you were both still breathing. “Agent,” someone said, but it didn’t register. They kept repeating themselves until two strong arms wrapped around you, dragging you away from Spencer.

Now sat on the floor, you clocked the paramedics that were now frantically working on Spencer, packing his wound, and cutting off the Kevlar vest.

Breathing heavily, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Rossi approached the local officer, checking his pulse. Emily was hovered over the UnSub, collecting his weapon from his corpse.

You were still being firmly held back, trying to pry the tattooed arms of Derek Morgan off of your torso. “Stop, let me get to him. I need to get to him,” you struggled against his grip, but any attempts at freedom were futile. The medics were saying awful things about a weak and thready pulse and pneumothorax.

Clinging to any semblance of hope that you could find, you listened to them talk about Spencer’s pulse, knowing that a pulse meant he was alive.

Your breathing quickened as you looked up at Morgan, Hotch was hovering behind the two of you, “I should’ve called for medical sooner.” Your voice was miserable, you had sat there with your jacket to his side for far too long. He could’ve gotten help from professionals.

“You radioed almost five minutes ago for medical,” Morgan informed you. “The EMTs just couldn’t find you in this damn maze.”

While you had no recollection of calling for help when you first found Spencer, you also knew that Morgan would get no pleasure out of lying to you.

You heard one of the paramedics say there was no pulse, and you didn’t remember anything that followed.

no grave can hold my body down

Crumpled in a ball, you picked at the crusted blood in your fingernails as you focused on the steady beeping of Spencer’s heart monitor.

According to Emily, who had been there when you woke up in the hospital, you had passed out around the time that the medics lost Spencer’s pulse. The doctor said it was just a result of stress. Thanks to some IV fluids and hydroxyzine, you were able to be discharged.

Spencer had been out of surgery for several hours now. The doctors had been careful to use the term “if he wakes up”, while you had made sure to say “when he wakes up.” You were playing the most horrendous waiting game, and there’s nothing worse than playing a game you have no interest in.

You were now donning a pair of black sweatpants and an old Academy t-shirt. Being the only team member permitted to see Spencer while he was still sleeping – girlfriend privileges, as Morgan phrased it – you waited with only the noises of his monitor to keep you company in the ICU.

Nurses came in and out, trying to manage his pain without the use of narcotics, making sure his blood transfusions were helping, and every once in a while, they’d check on you.

At this point, you had been nursing the same cup of ice water for hours, remembering the last thing Spencer had said to you: You’ve always been my favorite dream.

There was something so peculiar about being with someone who read so much, especially when he said such eloquent things while bleeding to death. You sighed, slumping back in the chair, you looked back at Spencer, only to be surprised that he was looking right back at you.

You jumped slightly in the chair, leaning over so that you could look at him, “Hey,” you whispered, maintaining the reverent tones of the Intensive Care Unit. “How do you feel?”

He’d lie to you and tell you he was fine, but you could tell by the way his heart rate increased that it was a lie. His eyebrows furrowed as he clocked the white patient ID bracelet on your wrist and your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been crying,” he observed.

Despite yourself, you smiled softly, “I thought you were dead.” Your voices were each raspy, yours from screaming and his from being intubated.

Slowly, he unfolded his arm so that his hand was extended to you. Without a second thought, you placed your hand in his. He hummed softly, “And leave you? Never.”

I’ll crawl home to her

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #margot's requests #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid whump #criminal minds whump

[nachojaehyun]

like a part 2 where the reader just keeps on acting nonchalant like nothing happened and wonwoo gets more and more riled up. cause “why am i the only one going insane here” type of feelings. and he just ends up taking here in a dressing room or something cause damn they need to fuck

she’ll ride the dick like a carnival

pairing. idol! wonwoo + new staff! fem reader!

summary. since that one fateful night at his apartment, jeon wonwoo realizes that he is fucked. but not really, since he can’t seem to get you in his bed.

warnings. [PLEASE READ] dom/sub dynamics, slight dom wonwoo, dirty talk, use of nicknames, THICK dick and lowkey desperate wonu, reader is VERY nonchalant, implied mirror sex, riding, wonu almost cries… AGAIN, sloppy kisses on the tits, subtle jizz play — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. desperate sex that turns steamy and passionate is my favorite genre holy shit 😭 first time answering an ask! hope you like it :)

find part 1 here

jeon wonwoo could only watch you from across the waiting room as you pranced around in a midi skirt, chatting happily with the staff.

he wanted to cuss you out.

shifting in his chair, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, angrily sniffing.

how could you act like this?

how were you so nonchalant? so unbothered about the fact that you had him seeing stars merely 72 hours ago?

it had been 3 days since you had sucked the soul out of his body. 3 days since he couldn’t stop rutting his cock into his fist to the thoughts of you. 3 days since he had become insane.

he tried to get your attention, he really did. the poor boy would keep trying to pry anything out of your mouth that gave him a hint about your feelings.

but you were unpredictable, just as he had thought.

your face was like a wall — completely emotionless. any thought that passed through your head could barely be understood and wonwoo wanted to smash his head into the concrete at that realization.

“jeez, what’s got you this tense?” mingyu sits down next to him, adjusting his costume as he stared at his best friend. “i’m just… worried about the performance, nothing else.”

mingyu knew that wonwoo was lying.

hell, even wonwoo knew he was lying.

but none of them seemed to question each other as they sat in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.

“wonwoo-ssi?” your voice called out to him. the boy singled out you and your sound amid nearly 50 people in the room, surprisingly springing to his feet as he walked towards you.

“your outfit is ready, follow me.”

the man silently walked behind you, striding toward the secluded attached room in the corner.

he pulled the curtain and stepped inside, and he was immediately handed his clothes. the outfit was simple— a sleeveless shirt and some baggy white jeans.

“i’ll be outside,” you nodded, bidding him farewell as you pulled the curtain.

sighing, wonwoo turned to look at himself in the mirror. his hardened cock stared at him in the face— a haunting image of the effect you had on him.

how am i the only one who is this riled up? he wondered. i can’t be the only one… right?

he wasn’t.

you would be lying if you said your panties weren’t glued to your core since you walked in. the sight of him had your head spinning, wanting nothing more than to strip him down and pull his dick into your throat.

but of course, you were not some depraved whore.

you set boundaries after that night. he was your client, and you were his stylist. of course you weren’t supposed to suck him off!

the fitting next morning after the incident had made you lose your self control. you recall how you had to get yourself off in the bathroom, relishing in the thoughts of seeing wonwoo in a tight fitted suit.

but of course, you would never voice these thoughts out loud. being in the same room as him was punishment enough to remind you of your sins. you wondered if applying for a styling job for a different member would work—

“uh?” wonwoo’s deep voice cut off your lewd thoughts, making you shake your head to clear them out. “a little help?”

“you good?" you sighed. “i’m coming in,” sucking in a breath as you stepped inside the small box.

wonwoo was leaning against one of the mirrored walls, one leg up on a stool in the corner. “what’s wrong?” you searched for a solution in his face.

“i seem to be stuck in a seemingly hard situation.”

one look down to his hands, you immediately realized the problem.

wonwoo’s dick was hard, the bulge over his boxers made that evident. the problem? the sheer size of his chub was not allowing the zipper of his jeans to zip up.

the man had a small waist but also had weirdly broad hips. his pants always had to be altered so that they suited his body type.

however, this was a problem that no other stylist had ever had to deal with.

“what do i do?” wonwoo whined, pouting his lips as he pushed up his glasses.

“wonwoo-ssi,” you spoke. your voice remained surprisingly stable, despite the fact that you could feel your pussy pulsating.

“i think you need to solve this problem on your own,” you looked into his eyes, almost feeling bad at how he panted.

however, before you could turn around and leave, wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and caged you between his arms.

your back hit one of the mirrored walls, as a surprised gasp fumbled from your mouth.

“wonw—”

“for the love of god woman, do you not see what you do to me?”

the desperation in his voice made your knees buckle as you stared into his eyes, gaze alternating to his lips as he bit them.

wonwoo heaved as he inched closer towards your face. “give me one good reason why you shouldn’t take care of my problem. you’re the one that caused it after all.”

hearing him voice out his thoughts, you turned your head to the side, embarrassed by the effect his voice had on you. how was this even your fault—

but with a harsh grip, jeon wonwoo grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing to you look at him.

“can’t think of anything can you?” his head dipped down, tracing his teeth along your neck. the sensation made you hiss silently. “help me, please. what would carat think if i went out on stage looking like this?”

“sit,” is all you managed to say, voice enamoured with need.

you all but pushed wonwoo onto the iron stool in the corner, hauling yourself onto his lap as you crashed your lips into his.

fuck, your lips were way better than he had ever imagined. they were soft and pillowy as they engulfed his mouth, tongue grazing against his own as you ground down on his crotch.

wonwoo’s free hand pushed your head impossibly close as he licked into your mouth, wanting to memorize every crevice.

spit dribbles from your connected mouths, sloppy and wet kisses sounding obscenely loud in the secluded area. the man does not care that drool is now staining his tank top. he could never get enough of this.

his other hand gripped tightly onto your ass, groping and fondling the fat. after a second, he pulled away from you, glasses foggy and lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath.

“shit baby, i can’t take it anymore,” he whisper-screamed, tears coating his lashes. you wished you could burn this image into your head for the rest of your life.

you could only nod, ready to sink to your knees before wonwoo stopped you, tutting. “pull your panties to the side, doll,” he commanded, chest heaving.

the change in his tone had your thighs tingling. you pulled your midi skirt up, tucking the ends into the hem as you exposed yourself.

at the sight of your baby blue cotton panties, jeon wonwoo nearly growled.

the material was thoroughly soaked and ruined, a deep blue patch staining the cloth. as you pulled them to the side, he noticed how slicked up your heat was, a string of arousal connected your folds to the cotton.

you gripped onto his shoulders for support in your half-sitting position as he glided two fingers against your folds.

“so wet for me already, huh? don’t even need to work you up for my cock,” he smacked his lips. “filthy girl.”

wonwoo strained his ears to listen for any footsteps near the area as he sucked his dampened fingers into his mouth. your taste was making him dizzy, breath faltering as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

without wasting any more time, you pulled his cock out of its confines, sliding his boxers down just enough to free his length.

the sight of him always made you salivate. however, it was clear that he didn’t want that happening today.

steadily, you positioned yourself over him, hovering before you finally pushed his fat tip in.

the sensation had you moaning out loud— before he slapped his hand over your mouth. “shh! don’t be so loud baby, they will hear us,” he cooed.

you nodded frantically, slowly inching downwards as his dick began to fill you up. once he was bottomed out, you couldn’t help but sob into his palm.

“i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” he smirked, shushing you with sweet words as he let you adjust to his size.

wonwoo’s thick dick was buried up to your hilt, and you felt so incredibly full. your poor walls clenched around his cock, nearly making him bust.

without a word, the man beneath you grabbed at your waist, moving you up and down on his length, slowly. with him pistoning in and out of you, you could feel your senses going into overdrive.

wonwoo tugged your top down with his teeth, suckling along the valley of your breasts to keep himself quiet. your pussy felt incredibly tight, creaming him for all he was worth.

his strong arms continued to guide you, until your legs automatically adjusted to the pace. your body began to move on its own accord— tits jiggling in wonwoo's mouth with each bounce.

"f-fuck!" you whimpered, beginning to lose your mind. for a moment, he looks up at you through his glasses, smiling widely from between your breasts.

the bastard's cheeky grin has you forgetting your own name as he lapped his tongue around your skin like he fucking owned it.

"already going dumb on my cock? shi— you ride so well baby."

your bounces show him just how stretched you were, making wonwoo's stomach clench as he split you apart. you tease him a little by slowing down, grinding down on him as he bites his lips and throws his head back.

as his hands grab onto your cheeks to spread them, he accidentally catches a glimpse of your back in the mirror opposite to you two.

god, you looked so fucking hot.

without knowing why, you felt him twitch inside. "not gonna— oh shit! — last very long now baby."

at the sound of his confession, you bring a hand down to rub at your clit. taking the hint, he begins to rut back into you, using all his strength to fuck into your heat.

"p—please wonwoo hah! cum inside, please please please,"

you're not sure why you beg, but you're too cock drunk to process anything but the fact that you want him filling you up, stuffing your cunt full with his release.

"you su— fuck fuck fuck—" wonwoo whispers, biting down on your right tit to subdue the moan that was about to leave his throat.

with that and a grunt, he cums inside your pussy, filling you up to the brim. his length twitches inside you, shooting out excess spurts. feeling himself soften, wonwoo pulls out of you. you whine at the sudden sensation of feeling so empty.

the boy stays mesmerized at the way your cum mixes together, escaping your spent hole in small globs.

as a pathetic attempt, he uses two fingers to plug the release back inside you, making you whimper again at the sudden intrusion. "sorry," he apologizes, before placing your panties back where they belonged.

with a fluid motion, jeon wonwoo tucks himself back into his calvin klein boxers, meeting your dazed eyes with another cute smile. "see? it fits now."

you can’t help but smile back at him, panting to catch your breath.

your thighs hurt from the awkward position, but you were sure that you never have it any other way.

so, that's how you end up walking around the rest of the working day— wonwoo's cum safely filled up inside you, as you and him exchanged comically wide-eyed looks every few minutes, a shade of pink grazing your cheeks.

© nachojaehyun, 2024.

#jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #wonwoo #seventeen #wonwoo asks #seventeen smut drabbles #svt x reader #seventeen drabbles #seventeen thoughts #svt hard thoughts #svt x you #seventeen smut #kpop hard thoughts #kpop hard hours #kpop smut

[4pfsukuna]

What about sukuna trying to make reader jealous but readers not fucking with it and gets mad instead or something🤔

Jealous? My facecard dont decline!

Heres something for  Heian era because i wasnt sure what time period you wanted but if you submit this request again I’m more than happy to do a modern day plus smut if you’d like💖 i had so much fun with this!

Waking up in a full nelson at the sound of “wake your stupid ass up” is the last thing Sukuna expects…. Like ever. The grip has him ready to pass back out and the only thing keeping him awake is the fact THRILL that it's you. Now you may be wondering:

“what did he do to make you so mad?”

Discussing fabrics with the seamstress was taking longer than it was supposed to but you didn't mind. not only were you the it girl and material girl of the land you were Sukunas girlfriend meaning you could have anything you want. New wardrobe? Yours. Blood of your enemies? You could have their blood and their enemies blood.

It seemed the only thing you couldn't have was alone time to be a baddie. As the seamstress opened up the jewelry box revealing 3 new sets of gold hoop earrings, 5 gold bracelets, an assortment of anklets and necklaces to match it with the different silk fabrics you grin happily when all of a sudden you hear this agitating sound.

“You’ve been at it for hours with this shit” Sukuna growls, walking in for the fourth time scaring the other woman and finally pissing you off. She doesn’t do her best work when she's terrified because her hands begin to shake.

“Would you fuck off” you hiss at your boyfriend completely annoyed at his pestering antics and the way he just cant take no for an answer. And it wasn’t even that you told him no to anything, it was more so that you just wanted to indulge in yourself, it takes time to be a bad bitch.

He was equally annoyed with you as well, truth be told for several reasons. He had no idea what kind of sorcery you’d done to have him this hooked. He knew you were nearly as powerful as him with the ability to summon any snake any size and that your body contained every snake venom known (and unknown) to man. The way your eyes would focus on him when he spoke taking in every word as if it was water and you were dehydrated, the way you reach for him in your sleep and God forbid he leaves bed to finish up work(gossip with uraume) you'd storm down stairs and plop in his lap demanding to be held falling asleep the minute he holds you. Or your lips? The way you smiled at him as he cupped your chin to guide his tip—

“No!” He snaps annoyed he has to fight an inanimate object for your attention and he leans forward causing something neither of you expect it happens to fast.

Your hands grab the back of his head locking into his hair yanking so he's now eye level with you, a dark look in your eyes as your tounge grazes your lips before you can say anything his intensity matches yours.

You expect it because how dare you embarrass him in front of lower levels like this?!

His hand wraps around your neck and soon it's a power battle as it usually is with an underlying sexual tension that keeps things flowing between you, the temperature of the room dropping 20 degrees on your behalf and quickly raising 21 on his. 

Petty king.

You drop your hand not wanting to fight with him and knowing deep down he didn’t either. But how dare you defy the great sukuna.

“By the time i'm done with my meeting i expect you to be done with this” he seethes making sure to set fire to all the plants as he walks past them. How dramatic!

Sighing knowing that was his way of inviting you to the meeting you turn back to the woman sending her a look of reassurance to continue.

Walking down the bare marble halls the only sound of distant footsteps and chatter as you listen to uraume who fills you in on the gossip. You gasp with a wide eyed expression stopping to face them.

“And they were bunkmates” and your jaw nearly hit the ground at the tea. The servants were so messy you wanted to see if Sukuna knew anything about it and if anything would stop your fued it would be gossip.

Urauma glances behind you, their smile falling completely off their face replaced by nervousness before bringing it back but it was already too late.  It's when they try to guide you back to where you had already come from that you get suspicious and turn around seeing Sukuna with one of the servant girls pinned to the wall, his large tattooed arm above her head as he talks.

You almost laugh at the display and at Uraume trying to get his attention, instead you link arms with your boyfriend's bestie and continue to walk past them.

“He couldn't make me jealous even if he tried! I sit on this man's face nearly every night, he buys me everything I want and besides do you see what i look like? My body was crafted! My face was sculpted i cant be jealous when i look like this” you arrogantly spit loud enough for all 3 of them to hear and a slither of you feels bad for the poor girl she had mearly been roped into this and Sukuna feels his heart swell with pride, you were his fucking girl.

But he sees a challenge, he's still a man nonetheless and being a man comes with doing stupidness you couldn't explain.

Like having another woman on his arm at a dinner he hosted with Curses he somewhat respected and neighboring estates just to show off. He was arrogant you'll give him that, and you were livid.

Watching him flaunt this ditsy little flat bodied bimbo around was pissing you off not cause you were jealous but because you were the one that should be meeting all of his allies. You were the one who’s power matched theirs, even rivaled it. You could feel your human eyes turn to snake eyes as your anger rose and roared through you.

It was disrespectful and downright embarrassing! Not only did people not know your status and who you were to him, not only did it make you feel lower than the Queen you actually were not only did you look like a complete fool having Sukunas initial on the gold beads that decorated your butt length braided ponytail but she had the audacity to smile at you as if she won.

He let another woman take your place, let another woman feel like she was above you. He let another woman sit on YOUR throne that is his lap and you can feel yourself losing your composure faster than you ever have.

You want to react in this very moment cause a scene hell even release some of your snakes but you couldn't imagine looking as dramatic and childish as Sukuna did earlier! That wasn't very it girl material of you. Instead you look over at Uraume finishing your glass of Sake, there was no point in wasting it, before shoving it in their hands and disappearing. 

Sukuna would never try no shit like this again.

Uraume sends a pointed look at Sukuna who instantly dismisses the servant smirking outwardly at your silent anger, a nerve wracking thought of if he pushed entirely too hard as the silhouette of you leaving replays in his mind. Were those his initials in your braid. He instantly feels disgusted and wants everyone to leave while he talks to you but swallows the thought.

He was Sukuna Ryomen, the king of curses, the king of doing whatever he wanted and nobody could stop him or tell him otherwise. So he parties, drinks and continues the night without a hitch until the sky is at its darkest and he bids a good night showering and laying in his empty bed. 

He spends about an hour tossing and turning unable to sleep not knowing where you are and pissed you aren’t in bed with him.

It's when he finally dozes off at the beginning of a dream playing that he thinks he feels the tips of your fingers in his back trailing over his broad shoulders and all four arms.

“Wake your stupid ass up” he hears before there's a vice-like grip on his neck pushing against his windpipe. He struggles for a little bit to breathe as your wrist digs into his pressure points.

“Y/N!” He shouts your name yet you only grip tighter and he doesn't even fight to get you off just shocked at your murder attempt.

“No dont fucking Y/N me! You tried to make me jealous and only pissed me off! Do I look like some weak willed bitch to you? Do you not see what i look like and you think you can make ME jealous, my king im offended! and the fucking audacity to try” you snap squeezing tighter and his hands come up to grip your arms.

 “Ryomen If you ever treat me like im not your girlfriend… your fucking queen ill poison you, have you an inch from your life and take over your thrown as i watch you die” you whisper the last part in his ear sending a chill down his spine before your grip loosens completely arms unsnaking.

Climbing under the covers you make yourself comfortable before turning on your side instantly falling asleep the minute your head hits the pillow. 

You miss the way your boyfriend holds his neck in disbelief with slight arousal and a tad bit of fear. You were fearless yet angry enough to not only threaten him but attempt to kill him? It’s when he hears your soft snores that actually sounds more like a snake hiss that he knows you're actually asleep.

Not only did you just pull that stunt but you had the audacity to sleep peacefully knowing he wouldn’t kill you. Not even a sliver of fear in your body. It’s like you were testing him! 

He may have been a sick man because he loved every second of it, he doesn’t test his luck by wrapping any of his arms around you, instead just lays close enough to still feel your body heat until you roll over wrapping an arm and leg possesively around him. 

He grins for a woman nearly a foot shorter than him, you may have the biggest ego in the room. 

“Wait, she tried to kill you in your sleep, threatened to kill you once you woke up and you’re shopping for wedding rings right now?” Uraume asks and this is one of the only times Sukuna had baffled them with his madness. Uraume never questioned Sukuna, it wouldn’t make sense to and that’s how it was easy being his most loyal and right hand but this… this was different.

“Yeah, any woman that bold is made for me!” Sukuna grins looking over the rings trying to find the biggest, brightest, most sinister looking ring.

“You think after yesterday's events consisting of making her jealous and ignoring her you should propose?” Uraume stated in that pestering ‘duh jackass’ voice that would usually have sukuna second guessing.

“What? No, she rode my face this morning until she blacked out again and I sent her to the next land over shopping for whatever her heart desires then set up a hair appointment with a stylist from her homeland.” Sukuna picks up a ring with a blood diamond circled by red rubies that matched the red of his eyes. He was sure the ring could be used as an anchor… you’d love it.

“Your highness for the cost of that ring we may have to take over a small village to not have this affect our funds” Uraume advises making small notes of villages near by in other peoples territory knowing Sukuna would start a war if it meant funding his queens lifestyle.

“A village is too small i want kamiro territory, ill kill him and anybody that decides to follow him. I don’t like the way he smells anyway” Sukuna shrugs, picking up a matching bracelet for you.

“You two have more drama than the servants”

#sukuna x black reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #jjk x black!reader #sukuna x oc #sukuna x you #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x uraume #uraume x black reader #uraume x sukuna

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 4

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

Joe grunted as his text message to Kiyana went unanswered for another day. “Gotta be Josh’s punk ass.” He muttered, throwing his phone onto the couch next to him. It’s been six months since he had Kiyana in his bed and he was feening for more. 

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back as he remembered how tight she felt wrapped around him. How intoxicating her moans sounded as she moaned in his ear . “Fuck” He whispered as he felt his pants grow tighter. He groaned and opened his eyes. “Fuck.” he muttered again, grabbing his phone and sending Kiyana another text message.

“Baby, when the last time you had some dick?” Kiyana choked on her lunch and glared at Samara as she reached for her cup of soda. 

“Girl what?” Kiyana asked. Samara shrugged. 

“You so wound up. That’s exactly what we’re doing this weekend. Getting you some dick.. Grade A dick.” 

“Can you stop saying dick?!” Kiyana hissed. “I do not need any of my coworkers over hearing this conversation.” Kiyana looked around, grateful that they were seated towards the back of the cafeteria and only one person was near them but he had on headphones. Samara had shown up to the hospital on Kiyana’s first day to have lunch with her and to hear about her day out with Josh and the boys. 

“I’m just saying.” Samara shrugged again with a smirk on her face. “Last person you had sex with was Joe, right?” Kiyana nodded. 

“Oh speaking of Joe. He texted me again.” 

“Did you respond?” Kiyana shook her head and Shrugged. 

“What was I supposed to say?” 

“Oh, big daddy Joe. I need you and that dick.” Samara said playfully, batting her eyelashes at Kiyana and laughed loudly, ducking the french fry that Kiyana threw her way. 

“Sorry to interrupt.” Kiyana and Samara looked towards the person and both of their jaws dropped open causing him to laugh a bit.  “I just wanted to introduce myself.” He said, his eyes never leaving Kiyana’s.  “I’m Elijah but everyone calls me Eli. You the new labor and delivery nurse right?”  Kiyana nodded, her mouth going dry when he flashed her a grin. “Nice to finally meet you. See you around.” He said, giving her a nice once over before biting his lip and walking away from them. 

“Fuck what I said about Joe.”  Samara said, eyes wide as she and Kiyana watched Elijah walk away from them. “If you don’t ride that man six ways to Sunday… I will.” 

Josh let out a growl when he saw Shanté waiting outside by his rental. He knew it was too good to be true. He could have swore her crazy ass had got sent back down to NXT but here she was, wearing a customized YEET shirt that had “MRS. USO” on the back. 

“Bruh, you trippin’” He muttered. Standing as far away from her as possible. “Whatchu want?” He looked around to see if there were any lingering fans around. He did not need any picture of him and Shanté hitting social media. 

“I miss you.” She pouted and Josh rolled his eyes. “C’mon Josh. Those four months meant something to you too.” 

“I didn't,” he said bluntly. “We had sex that’s it.” Shante rolled his eyes not believing what he was saying. 

“Josh, come on! You were so mad that I went out with Theory.” 

“Nah” He shook his head., “I was mad that Kiyana was being a bitch and refusing to bring the boys to see me because we were fighting and I took it out on you. I don’t give a damn about you and Austin.”  Shante furrowed her eyebrows. 

“What?”

Josh sighed. “It was nothing but sex Shanté. Yeah I said some shit that I shouldn’t of said. But I never wanted to be with you.” He shrugged, not caring if it came off mean. He was sick and tired of popping up everywhere. “It was just sex.” He repeated, and as expected Shanté marched up to him and smacked him in his face.

“I’m happy Kiyana divorced you, you piece of shit” She glared at him before ripping her shirt over her head and throwing it in a nearby trash can. Not caring that she was now walking around in her bra. 

“You and everyone else.” He muttered before climbing into his rental and driving towards the hotel. 

Kiyana fell backwards onto her bed. She was beyond exhausted. She closed her eyes and sighed. She would have to get used to this feeling, no longer a stay at home mom or a wife. She was almost asleep when he phone dinged with a notification, 

ElijahDaniels has requested to follow you. 

Kiyana bit her lip as she scrolled through his instagram account.

This man was too fine for his own good. She accepted his follow request and immediately received a DM from him. 

ElijahDaniels: those your kids? They look just like u.  KiyanaJackson_: yeah and thank you, lol. You’re the only person to ever say that.  ElijahDaniels: i aint know you was married tho. Tell you husband my bad lmao.  KiyanaJackson_: divorced actually.  ElijahDaniels: good KiyanaJackson_ good? Lol ElijahDaniels: yeah, now i can get to know u better.  ElijahDaniels: see u tomorrow ❤️

Mr Elijah Daniels MD 😉... our girl KiKi is back in the game!

(Joe is coming, i promise.)

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

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#wwe #jey uso x black reader #jey uso imagine #whatdoeseverybodywant writes #main event jey uso #wwe x black reader #jey uso x reader #wwe x fem reader #wwe x you #wwe x oc #wwe x y/n #wwe x reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #jey uso fanfic #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x exwife! reader #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns fanfiction

[chiqelatasblog]

In the Middle Of the Night🌙

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part Three is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub-Zero x Reader, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x Reader, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x Reader

Author’s Note : Welcome to another long chapter, everyone! 🙌🏻 (It’s about 11k words) Writing from Bi-Han’s perspective was a bit of a challenge, as he wasn’t always cooperative, but I’m proud of how it turned out. As I did with Kuai Liang, I put my own twist on his powers. (He is touch sensitive) Also in this version, I’ve adjusted it so that despite the portrayal in MK1 where Bi-Han doesn’t really see Tomas as part of the Lin Kuei, I’ve changed that here. Sharing the same trauma bonds people more closely, as my therapist once said, so I’m using that here to bond them as brothers!

Hope you enjoy diving into it as much as I did writing it! Happy reading!❤️

.

.

.

In the middle of the night,

Just call my name, I’m yours to tame.

In the middle of the night,

In the middle of the night,

I’m wide awake, I crave your taste.

CHAPTER FOUR : BI-HAN

Bi-Han had never liked to be touched or to touch others.

As a cryomancer, Bi-Han was unaffected by the cold itself. Yet, any touch, no matter how gentle, caused him intense discomfort, akin to frostbite searing through his skin. This peculiar sensitivity, despite his otherwise stoic demeanor, left him feeling isolated and disconnected from those around him. The only exceptions to this rule were Kuai Liang and Tomas, whose persistent presence he gradually grew accustomed to over time.

As the future grandmaster of the clan, Bi-Han knew he had to cope with this discomfort and eliminate any weaknesses that his enemies could exploit, just the thought was enough to make his nerves tense. In order for him to protect and maintain the future of his clan, he had to be perfect; he could not have a weakness. It was impossible for him to make mistakes like others because, at the end of the day, he would be solely responsible for the cost.

The temple of his clan, where he had spent every day since he first opened his eyes, was nestled among the mountains, at the edge of the forest, surrounded by towering rocks and fortified walls. Despite the bitter chill of the morning frost, Bi-Han emerged from his room before the sun had even begun its ascent, his cryomancer abilities shielding him from the biting cold that would incapacitate others. Today, the weather was particularly tumultuous, with fierce winds howling through the mountain passes, a harbinger of the impending snowstorm. Despite the harsh conditions, Bi-Han sought comfort in the discipline of his training, finding strength in the knowledge that one day he would inherit his father’s legacy and rule the clan with honor and power.

His hands sometimes fell apart because he worked long hours, his wounds bled nonstop for several days, his legs sometimes trembled, contracted, and ached from fatigue, but Bi-Han turned a blind eye to all of them. Although it is a fact that he was cruel to everyone, he was even more cruel to himself. The relentless pursuit of flawlessness drove him to push his body beyond its limits, disregarding the signs of strain and injury. It was as if his own well-being mattered little in comparison to the unyielding demands of his ambition.

More machine than man, Bi-Han’s focus was solely on the future of his clan and the welfare of his brothers. As an assassin, emotional bonds were his greatest vulnerability and also a liability; enemies could use them as weapons against him. Despite this, Bi-Han made exceptions for Kuai Liang and Tomas. In the earlier days, he was wary of Tomas, seeing him as an outsider not yet fully integrated into the clan. However, Tomas’s unexpected achievements and unwavering loyalty gradually took him by surprise, earning his trust. However, Bi-Han never openly expressed his true feelings to either of his brothers. Emotions were shackles to him, vulnerabilities to use against him. He became adept at burying his emotions, concealing them beneath a facade of stoicism. Instead, he pushed their limits and often subjected them to his sharp tongue, all in the name of unlocking their full potential. Though he understood the underlying rationale for his strictness, Bi-Han avoided dwelling on it, choosing instead to bury those feelings deep within.

This transformation permeated his entire being over time. People shied away from confronting him, even avoiding making eye contact. Like his powers, his demeanor grew as frigid and merciless as ice itself. He concealed all traces of fear, weakness, and humanity behind the impenetrable walls he erected, never once allowing himself to glance back in their direction. The weight of leadership, burdened with its responsibilities and grim tasks, further solidified his detachment.

The day Bi-Han was appointed as the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was etched in his memory like a knife drawn on ice. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows across the courtyard, the wind howling through the mountains, and everything cloaked in an icy chill. With the loss of his father’s life, his heart beat strongly in his chest as he officially took on his responsibility in a simple ceremony before the clan elders. He had worked for this moment for years, and now as he stood amidst the frozen landscape the satisfaction he felt was unlike anything he had ever experienced. As he accepted the leadership mantle, Bi-Han vowed to preserve the clan’s traditions, to lead with wisdom and strength, and to protect its heritage against all odds.

But everything changed during their ill-fated mission to retrieve Quan Chi’s amulet. Bi-Han had always believed the trials he faced were diffucult, the stress thickening the walls he had constructed while honing his coping mechanisms. He often forgot he possessed feelings at all. Yet being ensnared as a love slave within the pages of a book presented a trial unlike any other he had encountered before.

Bi-Han contorted in agony as searing pain enveloped his body, his heart and mind consumed by swirling darkness. Despite his fierce resistance, the curse proved relentless, its cruel grasp tightening with each passing moment. Every fiber of his being screamed in protest as he fought against the overwhelming force, but it was as if he battled against an invisible, unyielding foe. As he writhed in torment, Bi-Han felt the tendrils of his sanity slipping away, replaced by an insatiable hunger beyond his control. In that moment, he knew he was no longer the master of his own fate, but ensnared by the caprices of lust—a fate more tormenting than death for a man who had spent his life mastering the art of control.

Bi-Han initially fought with every fiber of his being, honed as he was in the ways of an assassin since childhood. Taking a life had become as natural as breathing for him; he executed his duties without hesitation, always looking forward without a flicker of remorse. But this situation was unlike any other. Despite his desire to confront and overcome this weakness, physical contact had always unsettled him. The myriad sensations overwhelmed him, hindering his ability to focus and defend himself.

The relentless persistence of the curse, turning this discomfort into a constant torment, pushed Bi-Han to his limits as never before. Like he always did, he also concealed this vulnerability, never allowing it to surface and be used against him. Yet now, this situation had brought about an unforeseen consequence; nearly every master of the book who came and went sought to “tame” him.

Bi-Han was well aware of his challenging temperament, he bared his teeth, lashed out with insults, refusing to allow anyone to assert control over him. He was not a possession to be claimed; he was an assassin and the grandmaster of an esteemed clan, determined to safeguard his reputation and honor at all costs. However, the curse spared no effort in testing him, as it did in all things.

Given his heightened sensitivity to touch, fulfilling their desires proved more difficult for Bi-Han compared to his brothers. Coupled with his abrasive personality, he inevitably stood out as the outlier among them. Most of the masters relished the challenge of attempting to tame him. Despite his burning desire to unleash his fury upon them and spill their blood, the protective barrier surrounding them thwarted his efforts each time, leaving him writhing in agony.

He refused to be controlled like a mindless animal, he would sooner take his own life than submit. It was not in his nature to surrender without a fight, to yield until his last breath. This defiance was quickly understood, but when the punishments were directed at his brothers instead of himself, Bi-Han found himself compelled to submit, despite the vehement protests of his soul.

The methods used to tame him differed from those employed with Tomas and Kuai Liang. Bi-Han lacked the knowledge of how to navigate intimate interactions, particularly with the opposite sex. His life had been consumed by rigorous training and duties, leaving no room or desire for physical contact. After all he had always recoiled from touch, never seeking it or showing any curiosity about it. Focusing proved exceedingly difficult for Bi-Han, especially initially, as he struggled to regulate his body temperature. Prolonged contact resulted in searing pain and burns on his skin.

In the room, two women surrounded him, one beneath him as he drove into her with hard, fast thrusts, eager to end the encounter as soon as possible. The other, his current master, positioned herself behind him, her arms coiling around his body like a serpent, her hands grasping his pecs and trailing down to his abdomen and upper legs, where his muscles painfully contracted under her touch. She watched him intently, issuing commands to satisfy their pleasure, her tongue tracing along his jawline with small, biting movements. The air was heavy with their mingled scent, their moans grating on his nerves. Sex and sweat permeated the room, each touch searing pain into his skin, overwhelming him and making it difficult to focus. His muscles tensed, veins bulging visibly beneath his skin, and he felt trapped in this hellish place with no means of escape.

Over time, he had learned to grit his teeth, ignore the pain, and maintain control over his body. The burns on his skin had decreased and eventually vanished altogether, yet Bi-Han derived no pleasure from it. The constant tingling sensation, like millions of tiny needles dancing across his skin, persisted, causing him to clench his jaw in frustration. His demeanor grew even more obstinate, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He harbored a particular resentment towards himself for his inability to put an end to the situation. How much longer could he allow his honor to be trampled underfoot? Time continued to pass, yet he remained entrenched in the same place, consumed by turmoil.

His fists clenched tightly at his sides as he surveyed the vast landscape before him. Departing the cramped apartment before sunrise had become routine; he detested confined spaces, and the apartment felt as suffocating as a doghouse. With a determined effort, he forced his nerves to remain steady, inhaling deeply the crisp, cool morning air.

A month had elapsed since their emergence from the book, yet nothing transpired as he had anticipated. He had expected his brothers to exhibit a sense of sensibility, maintaining their customary distance and aloofness, as they did with all other masters of the book, except Leilani. Tomas, the most naive among them, was quick to extend trust and belief, a habit Bi-Han begrudgingly tolerated, especially after the events with Leilani. Yet, Tomas seemed to revert to his trusting nature in your presence, sporting a foolish grin and soft, welcoming gaze. While Bi-Han could comprehend Tomas’s susceptibility due to his youth, he struggled to fathom why the hell Kuai Liang chose to share the same fate. He was logical, cautious, and maintained a calculated distance from others, knowing the dangers his powers could inflict. Although he had mastered control over his abilities, ingrained habits die hard, and Kuai Liang remained vigilant against causing intentional harm beneath his stern demeanor.

The fact that both of them succumbed to your influence, and so swiftly, perplexed Bi-Han. From his observations, your approach mirrored Leilani’s initial demeanor—calm, gentle, and devoid of authoritative commands. Yet, Bi-Han remained convinced it was all a facade, awaiting the moment when you would reveal your true intentions. Patience was not his forte, but once he set his sights on his prey, he would not relent, biding his time for a misstep to expose your true nature. Despite his brothers’ failures, he remained resolute in his distance from you, determined not to fall to the same mistake. He had sworn an oath to end this and had no intention of breaking it. When two months pass, he’ll remain as the sole fortress in this situation, committed to restoring his brothers to their former selves. Whatever game you were playing, Bi-Han was resolved not to allow you to reduce them to rubble. It had happened once before, and he would not permit history to repeat itself.

A few days prior, he had successfully contacted Sektor via your mobile phone. Sektor, one of the clan’s foremost assassins, possessed unparalleled expertise in electronic devices, often partnering with Cyrax on missions. In the ten years since their entrapment within the book, this was the first time Bi-Han had managed to establish contact with them. Contacting his clan had been a daunting task, as previous masters had imposed stringent bans, subjecting them to severe punishment if disobeyed. Enduring the pain himself was one thing, but risking the safety of Kuai Liang and Tomas was another. They had always supported each other, relying solely on their own trust and dependence.

Sektor mentioned that he would come once the connection was established. He wanted to verify for himself if the person who contacted him was truly the grandmaster of their clan, with his brothers, also second-in-commands, accompanying him. Bi-Han couldn’t blame Sektor for his caution; he would have taken the same approach if he were in Sektor’s position.

As the sun slowly cast its warm glow upon the awakening city, Bi-Han rose to his feet. A few blocks away, he silently descended from the rooftop, using the fire escape to make his descent. Despite the passing years, his body still tensed with apprehension at the thought of returning. He refused to acknowledge the draining effects of the curse upon him, despising every aspect of it—his weakness, his submission to its power, his dependency. These traits clashed with the values he had imposed upon himself, and he loathed them to his core.

Upon returning to the apartment, he sought to enter without a sound, wary of your keen senses that could detect even the slightest noise. Your ears were too sharp for a human; you could easily hear him coming and turn your attention to him. Despite his attempts to push you away with his brusque demeanor, you never wavered in your kindness. A plate of food always awaited him, set aside with care, and despite his biting words, you never cast him out or administered punishment. Bi-Han couldn’t comprehend your motives—why weren’t you angered by his actions?

In the days following their emergence from the book, it became apparent that you harbored fear towards him and his brothers. Your movements and speech were cautious, tinged with timidity. However, as time passed, this fear seemed to dissipate, particularly in your interactions with Tomas and Kuai Liang. Though you maintained a distance from him, your influence over him was profound. A single word from your lips could bring him to his knees. Yet, even though you refrained from wielding that power, Bi-Han saw no reason to hold back from testing your boundaries. He yearned for you to reveal your true self, to discard the mask you wore. With each passing day, his nerves stretched taut like an arrow, poised for release.

A deep conversation flowed between the three of you, so engrossed that neither you nor his brothers heard his silent entrance. Bi-Han observed quietly from his position, unmoving. In the kitchen, Kuai Liang and you were preparing breakfast. It was no surprise to see his brother immersed in the task, given his secret interest in food, but witnessing him so relaxed and at peace beside you was an image Bi-Han hadn’t seen in a long time. Meanwhile, Tomas lounged in one of the chairs at the kitchen island, engaged in animated chatter about movies while absently stroking the kitten perched on his lap. The faint strains of music from your phone wafted through the apartment, adding a tranquil ambiance to the scene.

Struggling to contain his anger, Bi-Han gritted his teeth at the sight of his brothers’ expressions. After all they had endured, how could they choose to trust again? Had none of them learned their damn lesson? When they faced the harsh realities of the real world once more, it would be too late. The book had stripped them of their identities as assassins, reducing them to mere instruments for the satisfaction of its owner. This was the bitter truth even if the owner had no desire for them; such was the insidious nature of the book, compelling its wielder to use them.

Despite the cramped confines of the apartment and the thin walls that allowed certain sounds to permeate, Bi-Han detected no indication of intimacy between you and his brothers. Your interactions typically consisted of innocent touches and kisses; he saw no demand for more. However, he knew it was only a matter of time before this changed, as he had witnessed such scenarios before.

Your body would ignite with primal urges, gradually clouding your mind until all you could think of was desire. As you resisted, the need would intensify, evolving from a flicker into an inferno, causing you agony, prompting you to seek relief using his and his brothers’ bodies. Once this barrier was breached, the rest would follow more easily. A few of the past masters, aware of their capabilities, hesitated to utilize them even under the book’s protection. However, when consumed by desire to the point of losing their sanity, they would resort to using their bodies for release, realizing that they wielded true power in such moments. They were no longer individuals with thoughts, wishes, or desires; they were merely slaves to be used at the whim of another. Bi-Han felt dehumanized, reduced to a mere object, easily discarded once his purpose was served.

The first to sense his presence was the pesky cat, leaping from Tomas’s lap in a frantic dash, its tiny legs propelling it as fast as they could go. Bi-Han restrained himself, resisting the urge to freeze the creature in its tracks. For some inexplicable reason, the cat seemed fixated on him, adding to the already cramped quarters of the apartment as he struggled to fend off its insistent attempts to climb onto his lap.

“Bi-Han, when did you get here? Hey, Ninja, wrong way, girl. Come here.”

As Tomas rose to retrieve the cat, both Kuai Liang and you turned, your gazes meeting his. Bi-Han observed the fleeting spark in your eyes, your lips parting as if to speak, only to halt at the last moment, offering instead a timid smile before refocusing on your task. Neither he nor his brothers missed this subtle exchange. While Kuai Liang observed you silently, brows furrowed in contemplation, Tomas’s initial concern flickered briefly in his gray eyes before morphing into indifference tinged with a hint of resentment upon meeting Bi-Han’s gaze.

Cradling the persistent kitten attempting to climb his legs, Tomas muttered softly under his breath, audible only to him.

“This is your doing. Are you satisfied now?”

Bi-Han’s brow furrowed deeply as he absorbed Tomas’s response, a pointed glance conveying his dissatisfaction as a muscle twitched in his jaw. It seemed absurd to feel unsettled now that you were finally grasping his cues. He had grown weary of your saccharine words, always probing if he was alright or offering assistance that he did not seek. Your sincerity failed to sway him; instead, your persistent interference felt like an unwelcome intrusion. So while he should have been content with your quiet acknowledgment, Bi-Han found himself strangely different. It was as if he hadn’t anticipated you relenting and giving him what he desired; instead, he was met with a hollow emptiness.

Instead of responding to Tomas, Bi-Han shoved him with his shoulder and strode past, trying not to indulge in the tantalizing aroma wafting from the kitchen. Judging by what you and Kuai Liang were preparing, it seemed to be an Asian breakfast, the nostalgic scent evoking memories.

“Are you hungry?” Kuai Liang asked, casting a sidelong glance at him. Bi-Han made a small affirmative sound. Among them, he could endure hunger the longest; his metabolism was slower than his brothers’, allowing him to subsist on just water for weeks without issue. Especially after the curse, he often forfeited his meals to Kuai Liang, who needed sustenance more urgently. The strong survived, after all.

However, Bi-Han noticed that his meals were often laced with aphrodisiac-style drugs, subtly altering his senses and clouding his mind. At those moments, it was as if his body was enveloped in a thick fog; his hands and feet became unnaturally heavy, as if weighed down by lead. His senses dulled, his vision blurring at the edges, and his thoughts slowed to a crawl, as if his brain was wrapped in layers of cotton wool.

He resisted eating to avoid vulnerability, refusing to succumb to such manipulation again. Yet, you always reserved a plate for him, untouched by others, even when he abstained for days. It was as if you understood his reluctance and respected his choice.

Almost as though you had read his thoughts, when you put the plate you had prepared in front of him, Bi-Han lifted his head and looked at you again, meeting your gaze. You weren’t looking at him the way you looked at his brothers; it couldn’t be said that you were afraid, but there was a bit of underlying timidity in your gaze and a sadness that he couldn’t understand. In earlier days, Bi-Han was filled with terrible rage because he thought you were pitying him. However, with time and observation, he realized that he was mistaken in this belief.

“Do you want some green tea?” you asked, and Bi-Han silently confirmed. As you turned to prepare it, he felt a slight weight on his leg. Without needing to glance down, he sighed inwardly, ignoring the cat’s plaintive mewls.

“Ninja! Are you gambling with life? Come here.”

“How difficult can it be to control this pest?” Bi-Han remarked, breaking his silence and turning to Tomas, who had been holding the cat.

“Would you believe it’s harder than some of the missions I’ve been on? It’s so tiny, I feel like I’ll crush it if I hold it too tightly,” Tomas replied, eliciting a chuckle from you. Setting down the cup, you moved to pick up the cat, cradling it gently in your arms as it wriggled in protest.

‘’Come here sweetie, your breakfast is here.’’

Bi-Han kept his gaze fixed on you as he took a sip of his tea. Watching you care for the little cat in your arms, he couldn’t deny the sense of peace that settled over the room, despite his reluctance to admit it. The subtle smile on your face, the tender look in your eyes as you cradled the kitten with such delicacy, as if afraid of causing it harm… These details felt genuine and convincing, casting doubt on his previous perceptions of you. Despite the lingering uncertainties swirling in his mind, for a brief moment, Bi-Han entertained the idea of reconsidering them, but quickly dismissed the thought to a remote corner of his mind. With a hardened gaze, he reminded himself that pondering such matters was futile; their time here was limited, and he had more pressing issues to attend to—such as finding a way to put an end to this curse.

‘’Oh, somebody’s pretty hungry,’’ you said with a chuckle, watching the kitten eat with gusto.

‘’When is she ever full?’’ Kuai Liang hugged you from behind, planting a small kiss on your cheek as he observed the cat over your shoulder. Bi-Han struggled to contain his disdain, unable to stomach his brothers’ easy affection for you. Seeing them so tender was unfamiliar; he hadn’t known they harbored such warmth. Tomas was mild-mannered, Kuai Liang a mediator—they both possessed kindness, but this was different. It felt as if he were witnessing something sacred, untainted, and pure.

He also didn’t want to admit it, but looking at both of you, you looked good. Covered by his brother’s arms, you seemed soft and vulnerable, but also well-protected by the muscular arms, shielding you from any harm. You were almost radiating with a gentle warmth, soaking Kuai Liang with the same energy, making him more relaxed than ever.

‘’You’re right, she has an appetite that defies her small body. I’ve started to worry that I won’t be able to keep up.’’ you said with another chuckle, affectionately nuzzling Kuai Liang and placing a loving kiss on his cheek in return.

‘’Can you blame her after what she’s been through on the street?’’ Tomas interjected, popping a slice of peach into his mouth from where he sat.

‘’True, she’s been through a lot,’’ you acknowledged, turning to Tomas with a look that was a blend of sadness and warmth. ‘’But she’s in good hands now.’’

‘’We won’t let her go hungry again, we’ll make sure of that.’’ Kuai Liang affirmed, a gentle smile lighting up his face. The spark in his eyes, so reminiscent of yours, exuded hope and vitality, as if each glance at you reignited his spirit.

Bi-Han listened in silence, his facial expression betraying his inner turmoil. This situation diverged from anything that had defined their lives for years. He could already see his brothers becoming attached to your presence. Your natural demeanor, particularly your smile, never failed to catch Bi-Han’s attention, offering a glimmer of hope he couldn’t dare to believe. He wished he could feel the same; waking up without the curse looming overhead, knowing he could return to his clan, should have been a comforting notion.

‘’You talk as if you’re going to keep this cat here,’’ Bi-Han remarked after a while. There was a brief silence as you wriggled out of Kuai Liang’s arms and reached for your own cup, giving the kitten a final stroke on the head.

‘’She’ll stay here until I find her a good home, but my priority is to help her regain her strength and socialize,’’ you explained gently. ‘‘My budget is barely enough for myself, and I don’t know what will happen if I can’t find a job soon. Unfortunately, I can’t meet the needs of a cat under these circumstances.” There was a hint of sadness in your voice, as if you had already grown attached to the little creature and were reluctant to let go. Bi-Han’s gaze shifted to the kitten, standing a little apart from you.

The kitten was indeed tiny, easily overlooked if one wasn’t careful where they stepped. Yet, it possessed a courage that belied its size. Despite Bi-Han’s imposing stature and deep voice, the kitten persistently sought his attention, jumping at his ankles, meowing, doing everything to engage him. Its bravery reminded Bi-Han of you, actually— despite the biting words he hurled at you, you still sought help, a notion he struggled to comprehend. After all, they were total strangers to you, and there seemed to be nothing to gain in return. On the contrary, you stood to lose the power and control you had over them, something coveted by many but attainable only by you.

It seemed unbelievable that you would willingly abandon this control.

***

You left the house a short time ago for another job interview that you found couple days ago. They were all aware of your situation before you mentioned that the budget was tight. Even though there was a brave smile on your face, trying not to show your distress, Bi-Han could see all too well the underlying worries, as could his brothers. You weren’t as adept at hiding it as you thought you were.

That’s why Tomas and Kuai Liang decided to take advantage of your absence and left the house right after you did. Since you gave them unlimited space to act as they wished, without giving them orders or prohibitions, his brothers decided to ‘shop’ at the grocery store to support you—though their true intention was to steal. Tomas was extremely skilled at it when it came to stealth, thanks to the smoke magic. They wanted it to be a surprise for you when you came home, regardless of whether you got the job or not, to at least put a smile on your face, and they wanted to support you because they shared the house. Bi-Han didn’t even try to stop them or reason with them; he found it quite pointless now. He had realized weeks ago that his warnings were useless. He could only protect himself in this matter.

Although he hoped to enjoy some quiet time alone at home, the pest wouldn’t leave him alone for a moment. As danger signals emanated from all over his body, either the cat was too half-smart to understand it or it didn’t care about the consequences. He didn’t want to lock himself in the study; he was already locked in there when he wasn’t going out. The moment he stepped out of the room, it grated on his nerves to see you and his brothers hanging out without a care, laughing and having fun.

When the kitten continued to cling to his ankles, squealing for the last five minutes without stopping, with a sound so thin that it almost bled his ears, Bi-Han growled, crouched down quickly, and grabbed the cat by the neck, lifting it to eye level with him. “What?! What do you want?” When the words burst from his lips almost like a roar, the silence he had longed for covered the room.

While the kitten stared at his face speechlessly, Bi-Han also breathed deeply and met the cat’s gaze. But then something unexpected happened, when the cat started purring loudly and rubbed its small head against his chin, this time Bi-Han remained absurdly motionless. He shuddered with a strange feeling when the soft fur touched his chin. It wasn’t hatred, but it was unfamiliar. It was the first time he had come into contact with a pet since childhood.

“So, this is what it takes to keep you quiet, huh?’’

The kitten let out a mew as if she understood his words, rubbed her head against him a little more, and when she started purring louder, Bi-Han felt the edges of his lips curl up to form a smile. Just like Tomas said, the kitten was tiny between his long fingers and his big hand. It was so easy to hurt her; he could have ended her life instantly with a little squeeze of his hand. But instead of doing this, without stopping the kitten’s purring for a moment, he pushed her small, soft, and imperceptibly light body into the area between his neck and shoulder, surprising even himself.

With the comfort of no one seeing him, Bi-Han collapsed on one of the seats and started stroking the little body with his other hand that was not holding the kitten. His actions were probably too careful to be funny to an outsider; he avoided ending the cat’s life for the slightest mistake because the possibility of this was quite high. Bi-Han didn’t know how long he had been sitting on the couch like that. When the kitten’s purring gradually decreased and finally stopped completely, he took her back into his lap to see her sleeping body.

The only place that was white on her body, covered with black fur, was her eyes, which was a funny detail, creating the impression that she was wearing a mask. Her ears, which had been huge at first, were now standing more proportionally on the top of her head as she gained weight. With her tiny nose in a triangle shape and pink paws underneath, curled up like a ball on his hand, sleeping deeply, Bi-Han couldn’t help but be surprised that this little animal had trusted him despite everything.

At that moment, when the front door swung open with a deafening crash, Ninja jolted upright, her fur bristling as she leaped from his lap to seek shelter behind the seat. It couldn’t have been you or his brothers who came; none of you had ever opened the door with such force before, as if intent on shattering it.

As an old silhouette, one that Bi-Han hadn’t laid eyes on in a decade, crossed the threshold accompanied by a dozen assassins, Bi-Han’s eyes widened imperceptibly. Yet, amidst the initial shock, a sense of familiarity washed over him, like finding an anchor in the stormy sea of uncertainty. Sektor’s presence, along with the assassins bearing the emblem and colors of their clan, brought a surge of relief, as if Bi-Han had finally returned to the familiar grounds of home, sense of belonging and reassurance, the tension that had gripped his shoulders for so long finally beginning to ebb away.

“Grandmaster,” Sektor greeted with a sharp inhale, leading the group in a respectful bow before Bi-Han. “It’s been too long.”

Sektor’s face bore the familiar features Bi-Han remembered, albeit with a slightly bushier and longer beard peppered with white streaks, his black hair pulled back tightly with strands of gray weaving through the dark locks. The passage of time was evident in the wrinkles near his eyes, a silent testament to the years that had slipped by in his absence. With an incredulous expression on their face, Bi-Han gestured for them to raise their heads as they greeted him. He briefly embraced Sektor, one of his right-hand men and a loyal friend, feeling a sense of familiarity and trust in his presence.

‘’You found the apartment spot on.’’ he said as he stepped back.

‘’I followed the signals from the phone with which you contacted us, and it led us to the woman you mentioned,’’ Sektor explained, gesturing to one of the men behind him with his head. ‘’She put up quite a struggle.’’

As the group of seven split into two, revealing you with an assassin gripping your arm, Bi-Han’s heart clenched at the sight of your distressed form. Your eyes widened with fear, unshed tears glistening, while blood trickled from your lip and purple fingerprints adorned your throat. The desperation in your eyes struck him deeply, igniting a fierce protective instinct within him. He didn’t even grasp how it happened; one minute ago, he felt a deep-rooted sense of belonging after seeing his clan members in front of him. But now, seeing you shaken and hurt because of him, he felt a surge of emotions he didn’t know he had. He couldn’t understand why. Why was he feeling this way? He should feel relieved, since the book only protected you before them, not from the outside world. It was a possibility that you could get hurt. But now, it didn’t sit well with him. You didn’t deserve this treatment from him or his men.

‘’Release her,’’ Bi-Han growled, his voice laced with authority, anger and a little bit of protectiveness. When the assassin hesitated, Bi-Han seized their wrist and forcefully pulled you towards him. You were startled by his grip, his touch either too cold or perhaps the recent events had left you shaken. Whatever the reason, it prompted you to avoid his gaze, focusing instead on the ground beneath you. In that moment, Bi-Han anticipated the familiar pain that usually accompanied touching skin, however, to his surprise, all he encountered was the remarkably soft and sensitive skin beneath his fingers.

“Bi-Han,” your voice, usually moderate and friendly, trembled with fear, resembling a fading whisper. ‘’Let me go, please. I just want to retreat to my room.’’

Even after everything, you were still pleading instead of demanding or seeking vengeance for the harm inflicted upon you. Standing there, head hung low and trembling slightly in his grip, the quiver in your voice as you implored him to let you retreat to your room—all these details spoke volumes. They revealed a vulnerability that struck Bi-Han sharply. In that moment, it dawned on him with startling clarity. Perhaps, from the very beginning, your actions had been genuine, and this moment was the ultimate test to reveal your true nature. It was a realization that left him reeling and cast doubt on his previous assumptions about you.

The timbre in your voice, your posture, or whatever it was, made Bi-Han pull his hand away from you as if it had been burned. Throughout the whole encounter, you hadn’t lifted your head once, and as you quietly passed into your room without a word, Bi-Han was at a loss for what to do with the emotions that were rising up inside him.

“Grandmaster?” Sektor’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and when Bi-Han turned his gaze back to the others, he saw them watching him carefully. “Did we do something wrong?”

“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” Bi-Han replied, avoiding a direct answer. “And be careful not to step on the cat.’’

With those words, he followed after you. When he looked through the partially open bedroom door, he saw you sitting on the end of the bed, your back facing him. He knocked once to announce his presence and then entered without waiting for your response. Startled, you glanced over your shoulder, an old T-shirt in one hand as you dabbed at the wound on your bleeding lip. You appeared small, vulnerable, and innocent, tears streaming down your cheeks silently. Your expression bore a sadness that tugged at his heartstrings, catching him off guard.

As Bi-Han closed the door behind him and stepped inside, you tried to wipe away your tears with a sniffle. “I didn’t know you hated me this much,” you said, your voice hoarse with emotion. Another tear crept down your cheek, and Bi-Han felt a pang of guilt wash over him at the sight of your despair.

“My orders were not in that direction. There was a miscommunication. I only asked them to come here, not to hurt you.” Bi-Han explained, though even to his own ears, his words sounded unconvincing amidst the swirling emotions he couldn’t quite grasp.

You must have been thinking the same thing too, so you didn’t answer him. Instead, you lowered your gaze, and a heavy silence settled between you. This situation bothered Bi-Han more than he expected. He had never cared much about what you thought of him until this moment. Now, he didn’t want any misunderstandings to grow, nor did he want you to think that he could give a command to harm someone defenseless. Another detail that bothered him was your demeanor; it was different from what he was accustomed to. You looked defeated, your shoulders slumped, as if trying not to take up too much space on the bed. Despite his words or his actions, there was always a flicker of light in your eyes, a desire to fight, but now it seemed extinguished. You seemed resigned, as if you had emerged from a battle knowing you couldn’t win.

‘’Show me your wound.’’ said Bi-Han, breaking the tense silence. You looked at him with a puzzled expression, clearly not expecting him to speak.

‘’It’s not a big deal. I can handle it. It would be better if you don’t keep them waiting.’’ you said kindly.

‘’Don’t tell me what to do,’’ Bi-Han growled, his voice taking on a contrary tone. Once again, you averted your gaze and shrank back, as if trying to disappear. Bi-Han cursed himself silently; he was too accustomed to speaking aggressively. Instead of further escalating the tension, he sat down beside you and ,as gently as possible, lifted your chin to examine your wound. Bi-Han had been expecting pain, but to his surprise, he felt the same softness and warmth of your skin as before. There was no biting pain or discomfort. It was unexpected and strange. Turning his gaze back to you, he found you watching him.

‘’Give me what you’re holding and stand still,’’ he said, attempting to soften his voice. You complied silently, handing over the T-shirt. As he applied pressure to your wound to stop the bleeding, he noticed you take a sharp breath.

‘’Does it hurt?’’

‘‘A little,’’ you replied softly. Bi-Han clenched his jaw, still feeling your nervous gaze on him as he tended to your wound with a care he didn’t know he possessed.

‘’Why do you hate me?’’

‘‘If I hated you, I wouldn’t be doing this right now, would I?’’ Bi-Han responded, his tone firm yet tinged with something softer. You took a shaky breath, your voice carrying a hint of innocence and hope that tugged at his heart.

‘’So you don’t?’’

Bi-Han didn’t answer, his eyes trailed to the purple fingerprints on your throat. Sektor had applied too much force. Anger surged within him at the sight of your injuries. You didn’t deserve this. Seeing you filled with fear in your own home where you should feel safe the most, blood on your lip, marks on your throat… Bi-Han had been trained to bear the weight of his responsibilities, but looking at you now, his conscience gnawed at him like never before. He should have foreseen Sektor’s aggression and prevented this. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to admit it out loud.

Before he could say anything, the sound of his brothers entering interrupted the moment. You exchanged a glance, then Bi-Han’s gaze lingered on the door.

‘’I think you’d better go,’’ you said again, your voice feather soft and light. Despite the fading fear on your face, you still looked vulnerable, like a fragile trinket that could be easily broken.

‘’I don’t trust you, but I don’t hate you,” Bi-Han said suddenly, the words escaping before he could fully process them. Your eyes widened in surprise at his unexpected admission. Something about your presence in that moment had prompted him to speak. “I hate this situation I’ve fallen into,” he continued, his voice tinged with years of pent-up frustration. “The power you have over us, this dark magic, the book, everything.” Then without waiting for your response, Bi-Han rose from his seat and walked out of the room, refusing to look back. He needed space to process his emotions, to distance himself from the turmoil that surrounded him. As he entered the living room, he found Tomas, Kuai Liang, and Sektor engrossed in conversation. Relief washed over his brothers’ faces at the sight of Sektor, and Bi-Han knew they were glad to see a familiar face after so many years. Noticing his presence, Kuai Liang turned to him.

‘’Why didn’t you tell us you had contacted Sektor before?’’ He asked, his tone more curious than reproachful.

“Your attention wasn’t quite suitable at the moment.”

Both of his brothers frowned, understanding the implication. Tomas’s gray eyes scanned the room briefly before settling on him again.

“Where is she?” He inquired, his brows furrowing further.

‘’In her room.’’ Bi-Han replied.

Tomas’s expression darkened, and he rose from his seat, his eyes narrowing as he headed towards your bedroom. Bi-Han stopped him by grabbing his arm.

‘’You should know there was an incident.’’

Tomas’s head snapped towards him then, anger clearly evident in his expression now.

‘’What are you saying-‘’

‘’Tomas?’’

When you peeked out from your bedroom, Tomas’s words hung in the air, left unfinished as he caught sight of your appearance. Bi-Han silently observed Tomas’s reaction as he swiftly reached your side. Sensing your hesitation to open the door fully, Tomas instantly noticed and, with a suppressed growl, swung the door wide open.

‘‘Who did this to you?’’ he demanded, his voice laced with pure anger.

Upon hearing Tomas’s question, Kuai Liang sprang from his seat and darted past him like a gust of wind. Bi-Han watched as his brother approached you with a kindness he had seldom seen in Tomas before, tenderly cupping your face in his palms and inspecting the wound on your lip with his thumb.

‘“I’m fine, guys. It’s nothing, really. It doesn’t even hurt.” you said, attempting to reassure them.

“Bi-Han mentioned there was an incident,’’ Kuai Liang interjected, shooting Bi-Han a knowing look before turning his gaze back to you. Bi-Han watched as the hard edge in Kuai Liang’s brown eyes softened with concern as his fingers traced the purple marks on your neck. ‘‘Tell us what really happened.’’

Your eyes darted to his, filled with desperation, as if searching for the right words. Given that you seemed to have Kuai Liang and Tomas wrapped around your finger, they were inclined to believe whatever you said, no matter how absurd or hard to believe. A clear example of this was just a few weeks ago when Tomas confronted him on your behalf. Yet, there was a palpable sense of caution in your demeanor, as if you were treading carefully to avoid escalating the situation or triggering them further.

‘’I-I…It’s just-‘’

‘’I contacted Sektor through her phone,’’ Bi-Han interjected, unable to bear the helpless expression on your face any longer.Sektor also joined him halfway through, taking charge and completing the explanation.

‘’I’m sorry for hurting you,’’ Sektor apologized, his gaze fixed on you nestled between the protective arms of his brothers. Stepping forward, he bowed as a form of apology. ‘’I thought you were responsible for their absence.’’

‘’No harm done, really. You don’t need to apologize,’’ you said, panic and embarrassment evident in your voice. ‘’I was just a bit scared. I mistook you for Quan Chi and his men at first, so I was hesitant to answer and didn’t want to cooperate.’’ As you speak, Bi-Han observes your expression closely, noting the shift from fear to relief as Sektor apologizes, his sincerity reassures you.

‘’You thought he was Quan Chi?’’ Kuai Liang asked softly, gently caressing your face. You offered him a small smile and nodded in confirmation. Tomas joined him, planting a loving kiss on your cheek.

‘’You could have been seriously hurt,” Tomas said, his tone now tinged with awe and kindness rather than anger, reflecting the concern he felt towards you. His gaze softened as he looked at you.

‘’I just wanted to protect you,’’ you whispered, your voice laden with emotion. Bi-Han felt something stir within him at your words, a feeling he couldn’t quite name. He had imagined you must have been scared when you encountered Sektor, but mistaking him for Quan Chi and still trying to protect them… it was different. No one had ever shown such bravery to him or his brothers before. They had never needed it, and they were too proud to admit otherwise. Moreover, you didn’t even know how to protect yourself, yet you still resisted until you realized who Sektor was. It was foolish, yet admirable. The courage you displayed, even in fear, was something not everyone possessed.

Bi-Han understood better at that moment why his brothers were so fond of you.

As they returned to the living room, Bi-Han recounted the events, with his brothers occasionally adding their own insights. He wasn’t sure how many hours had passed; after all, they had been absent for ten years, and it must have taken them hours to catch up on the clan’s affairs. Throughout the conversation, Bi-Han remained seated in his usual spot, while you held Ninja on your lap, nestled under the seat after you reached out to her. You were installed next to Kuai Liang, while Tomas and Sektor occupied seats opposite you.

He was relieved to learn that the clan had remained steadfast since the day they were cursed. Sektor and Cyrax had worked diligently to maintain order and uphold traditions. In fact, Sektor mentioned that their numbers had increased slightly, and their training had become more comprehensive.

Once there was nothing left to discuss, Bi-Han spoke up once again. ‘’I want you to contact Lord Liu Kang. If anyone can lift this curse, it’s him,’’ he instructed.

‘‘Won’t you come back with us?’’ Sektor’s surprise was palpable. ‘’Everything’s ready, Grandmaster. Just give us the command.’’

Bi-Han yearned to return to his homeland, to the land where he belonged, where he was born and raised… But he had to consider the bigger picture. It was impossible for them to stay away from you for long due to the curse. If you came with them, you would be vulnerable to their enemies, who might exploit you to harm the clan. Bi-Han wanted to keep this situation as secret as possible, at least until a solution was found.

‘’It’s best if the curse remains discreet between us. The sooner you reach Liu Kang, the better.’’

“But brother—‘’

‘’They can use her as a means to reach us,’’ Bi-Han interjected, cutting off Kuai Liang. When his gaze shifted to you, a guilty expression flashed across your face, as if you felt responsible, and you quickly averted your eyes. Bi-Han cursed himself silently for yet another misunderstanding. ‘’It’s for the best, for all of us. If Liu Kang can’t find a solution, return here in two months and retrieve the book. I want us to remain within the clan thereafter.’’

‘’As you wish, Grandmaster,’’ Sektor replied obediently.

***

A few days had passed since Sektor’s visit. The scar on your lip had almost disappeared, and the fingerprints on your throat had turned into a pale yellow stain. The memory of your expression upon seeing the amount of food that Tomas and Kuai Liang had bought—enough to feed a small African tribe—remained vivid in Bi-Han’s mind.

‘‘What is all this?’’ you asked, your cheeks slightly flushed with excitement. Tomas scratched the back of his head bashfully, while Kuai Liang pulled you close with a gentle arm around your waist, planting a kiss on the bruises on your neck.

‘’We did some grocery shopping.’’ Tomas replied.

‘’But how?’’ You inquired politely, fully aware of they didn’t have an money, yet the bemused expression on your face was endearing, a blend of amusement and sweetness. Your cheeks held a faint flush, while your eyes sparkled with excitement, reminiscent of a delighted child receiving a cherished gift. Witnessing your joy, Bi-Han was taken aback by how effortlessly you found happiness in such simple gestures.

‘’It would be more accurate to say we obtained it without being seen.’’ Kuai Liang chimed in, taking over the explanation from Tomas. Your raised eyebrow and playful glance prompted a chuckle from him.

‘’So you stole it, did you?’’

‘’Is it stealing if no one saw?’’ Tomas quipped, eliciting a laugh from you that echoed through the small kitchen.

‘’Tomas! That’s exactly what stealing means!’’ you exclaimed, still smiling as you surveyed the bounty of food. ‘’You even got food for Ninja, guys, I can’t believe you! I hope I can fit this much food in the fridge.’’ Turning in Kuai Liang’s arms, you planted a happy kiss on his lips, filling his face with pride and joy. “Normally, theft is never something I would approve of, but I really needed it, thank you.’’ you said, moving to hug Tomas tightly and also kiss him like you did with Kuai Liang.

‘‘We can imagine how difficult it is for you to feed us all at once. We wanted to ease your burden.’’ Tomas explained. In response to his words, the innocence in your smile deepened, and Bi-Han watched as the warmth in your eyes softened further. He had never witnessed anyone gaze at his brothers with such sincerity and purity. Your gestures, your smiles—everything you offered them seemed so natural and genuine. It was as though you held deep affection for his brothers. For a brief moment, Bi-Han found himself contemplating how it would feel if those same tender glances were directed at him. It seemed absurd to entertain such thoughts, as he typically dismissed such sentiments. Yet, in that moment, he couldn’t help but wonder. Had he ever missed something he had never experienced? Was it jealousy, or perhaps longing? The unfamiliar emotions stirred within him, leaving him perplexed yet intrigued.

Shaking off his reverie, Bi-Han sat alone, you having gone out for a walk with Kuai Liang and Tomas an hour ago, leaving him alone with the cat. Glancing at the feline curled up in his lap, he found himself stroking her soft belly absentmindedly. As he sat at his seat, his gaze wandered to the window, where colorful city lights illuminated the evening sky. Below, people bustled about, returning home after a day’s work, while the distant sounds of car engines added to the city’s cacophony.

Suddenly, the cat perked up, alerted by a sound outside. Bi-Han’s attention shifted to the door, where he heard the anxious voices of his brothers approaching. As they entered, Tomas was holding you in his arms, with Kuai Liang in tow. Bi-Han’s brow furrowed as he took in the state you were in.

“What’s going on?”

“She’s not well,” Tomas’s voice was tense, dominated by a helpless and worried expression rarely seen on his face when he felt powerless. Kuai Liang remained silent, his eyes stormy with concern, his jaw clenched so tightly that he was sure his teeth were aching. “While walking in the park, she suddenly doubled over and started holding her stomach, whimpering in pain.” he explained.

“Side effects of the book,” Kuai Liang interjected, his tone tinged with anger. “She’s been experiencing symptoms for a while but hasn’t said anything.”

Bi-Han found himself grappling with disbelief as he processed the situation. Despite a part of him anticipating this moment, he couldn’t comprehend how he missed the telltale signs. Since they showed up at your house, he had always kept his eyes on you. He waited for you to drop your mask, quietly following your every step, scrutinizing your expression with sharp eyes. Perhaps, in hindsight, he was so overwhelmed with details that he failed to see the truth before him. Normally, within a week or so, whoever wielded the book would inevitably use them for their own pleasure.

Initially, the feeling would emerge subtly, like a thin fog in the corner of their minds, not applying pressure but making its presence felt. But as the days passed, this feeling would grow hostile and aggressive, leaving no choice but to use them, as relief could only come that way. Bi-Han had heard this definition before from several different masters, none of whom could endure the escalating wave of pain to the end, especially when the solution was within reach and there were no obstacles.

The fact that you had been enduring this pain silently for a while, and moreover, that you hid it from them without flinching, was something Bi-Han couldn’t reconcile with his logic. Why were you trying to endure this pain?

“I’m all right,” you weakly protested, barely audible amidst the turmoil. Bi-Han’s gaze softened as he observed you, held in Tomas’s embrace. Sweat glistened on your forehead, your face contorted in agony. Despite not touching you, he could sense the fever radiating from your body.

“This can’t continue,” Tomas insisted, concern etched on his features. “We can help you.”

“No,” you managed to gasp in pain, struggling to open your eyes. Bi-Han could see clearly the extent of your suffering, tears lined the edges of your eyes. “I don’t want you to do this because of the curse.”

“We are going to do this for you,” Kuai Liang countered, his voice laced with anger directed at the situation rather than you. However, in that moment, it came out as a snarl.

“Doesn’t matter. After all, I’m in this state because of the curse, and I don’t want you to be put under the same obligation again.”

“Do you want us to stand by while you suffer?” Kuai Liang pressed, his concern palpable.

Unable to speak, your eyes squeezed shut as a whimper escaped your lips, writhing painfully in Tomas’s lap as you began to take deep, labored breaths, resting your head on his chest.

“She’s burning,” Tomas remarked, his voice increasingly concerned. Then, as if a realization dawned on both of them simultaneously, Bi-Han crossed his arms over his chest and gave them a piercing, almost deadly glare.

“No.”

***

He couldn’t comprehend how he found himself lying in bed with you. Moments ago, he was at odds with Kuai Liang and Tomas, and now he lay on your double-sized bed, staring at the ceiling. His logical mind urged him to leave, yet his body remained rooted for reasons he couldn’t fathom.

Turning to where you lay, he observed you from his position. There wasn’t much space between you on the bed. Your body curled into a fetal position, drenched in sweat, causing the sheets beneath you to dampen. You looked so pitiful and helpless, as the only thing you could do at the moment was keep breathing.

“Why are you resisting?” Bi-Han’s voice lacked its usual aggression or coldness, replaced instead by confusion. He couldn’t grasp why you still kept enduring this suffering.

“I want to keep all of you safe,” your fragile voice answered. Bi-Han’s brows furrowed deeper at your response.

“Is it worth enduring this pain?”

“Yes.” Your answer was swift and simple, stirring an ache in Bi-Han’s heart. ‘’I told Kuai Liang that I would offer you a safe space, and I will do so as well. You deserve more than that, but this is all I can do. I don’t want you to do anything that the book obliges.’’

What you thought was insignificant was actually a tremendous sacrifice for their comfort. He was speechless for the first time in his life. He didn’t know what to say, what the right and necessary words were. He had never met someone like you who sacrificed themselves in this way before. As he needed a few seconds to digest what he was hearing, he simply looked at you.

At that moment, Bi-Han heard the answer to the ‘Why’ question that had been spinning in his mind for weeks. Because you cared not only about your brothers but also about him with all his thorns, sharp words, and rude manners. Despite everything, you weren’t keeping him apart from Kuai Liang and Tomas, and you were enduring this pain inside for him as much as you were enduring it for them.

As you writhed in pain, still maintaining a careful distance, Bi-Han realized that what he had been waiting for wasn’t you to drop your mask, but for him to acknowledge your genuine care. You didn’t play games; your sole purpose was to only help. While gaining the trust of Kuai Liang and Tomas, you rejected their assistance, a reaction unfamiliar to him and his brothers. Despite the opportunity for relief, you refused their aid.

With another whimper, you completely crumpled down where you were, and when tears started to flow from your eyes once again, Bi-Han pulled you to himself as he grasped you, without thinking about anything else, along with the emotions that sprouted in his heart. Even though he knew that you would be surprised under normal circumstances, your indifference and continuing to cry quietly while being embraced by him by doing the exact opposite, tugged at his heart strings.

“I’m sorry,” your voice muffled against his neck, yet Bi-Han heard every word. “I know you don’t like me… I’m sorry you had to endure this.’’

“Be silent, woman. You talk too much.” His tone was surprisingly gentle as Bi-Han held your sweat-drenched body against him tightly. A small moan escaped your lips, a sign of relief amidst the pain. Since Bi-Han has always kept his distance from you, you’ve had almost zero contact with him, so in addition to his body being cold, his touch was also more effective compared to his brothers. That’s why, actually, part of the pain you suffered was because of him, that you couldn’t touch him the way you could have touched Kuai Liang or Tomas.

Your body slowly relaxed in his arms, Bi-Han’s hand finding its way under your shirt, offering what little coolness he could. It felt natural to hold you this way, as if it was where you belonged all along.

“Bi-Han…” your voice was soft and vulnerable, triggering his protective instincts. As he rested his chin on top of your head, completely caging you with his arms, your breathing steadied a bit, and the tremors subsided. “You don’t have to do this.” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. Your lips brushed against his throat as you spoke, a detail Bi-Han found himself liking.

“I remember telling you to be silent.”

“I don’t want to cause you any more inconvenience. I’m feeling better, please, you can let me go.” you said, the obvious lie and stubbornness in your voice softening Bi-Han’s heart while simultaneously angering him. He grabbed you by the neck so that he could see your face, and when he lifted your chin up with his thumb, he faced your innocent gaze. All the while his touch was gentle and incredibly cautious, much like when he handled Ninja. You resembled her at the moment, fragile and delicate.

“Under normal circumstances, you can’t force me to do something I don’t want to,” he asserted, his hand tracing from your chin to your temples. As his fingers moved over the lines, a moment of relief washed over you, your eyes closing briefly in response. Bi-Han found solace in providing you with comfort, a departure from his typically cold demeanor that often left others chilled rather than soothed. “This is one of those rare instances.” When Bi-Han whispered the last part towards your lips, your eyes opened, and you suddenly looked at him with so much emotion that Bi-Han felt his breath getting smaller and clogged in his throat. He could see his own reflection in your eyes.

‘’I have been cruel to you, even though you did not deserve it.’’ His confession enveloped the room like a heavy blanket, yet Bi-Han didn’t feel suffocated beneath it. On the contrary, he felt a sense of relief, as if he had shed a bit more of the burden he carried. When his gaze shifted from your lips back to your eyes, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at the profound understanding reflected in them.

‘‘You had your reasons, it’s okay.’’ You said it with your usual forgiveness. ‘’I have not given up hope for you.” Despite everything, when you managed to put a small smile on your pain-weary face, Bi-Han felt that his heart was being suppressed inside his rib cage, as if it was being squeezed from both sides. How pure your heart was, so full of kindness that Bi-Han started to feel like absolute shit when he thought about the times he hurt you so many times.

‘’You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.’’ He said after a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as he spoke.

‘’Is that… a bad thing?’’ You said in a timid voice.

“No,” Bi-Han said without hesitation. “It’s something I never thought possible until now.” He had buried his feelings so deeply that now, as they began to surface, distinguishing and naming each one became a daunting task. He felt overwhelmed by them, but refusing to ignore them any longer felt like the only honorable choice, especially after witnessing your endurance of pain on their behalf.

While he seethed with frustration towards his brothers, he never anticipated finding himself in the same predicament as them. Typically, he’d be harsh on himself for failing to maintain his vigilance. Even before assuming leadership of the clan, he embodied the role of the older brother, a figure of experience and protection, standing resolute where they faltered.

Yet, as he observed you, he teetered on the edge of conflicting emotions. You touched a part of him that had remained untouched, your essence reaching deep into his soul. Physically fragile you may have been, but your heart—your heart was a beacon of forgiveness and strength. Your presence illuminated every space you entered with a comforting warmth, a stark contrast to his reserved attitude.

Despite this, a part of him resisted. A lifetime of emotional barricades made him wary of letting anyone in, fearful of disrupting the balance he’d maintained. If Liu Kang couldn’t find a solution to the curse, he was doomed to lose you. Did he really want to take this risk despite knowing the inevitable outcome? As he looked at you, the answer became clear in his mind. Though brief, even if it were to end eventually, Bi-Han yearned to taste the light before returning to eternal darkness. You were a rarity, a once-in-a-lifetime encounter he couldn’t bear to reduce to a mere ‘wish’. No, he wished to imprint every moment, every sensation of you, onto his memory. The desire boiled within him, igniting his veins like wildfire, as his gaze once again descended from your eyes to your lips.

‘’Throughout my life, I’ve learned to be self-sufficient, prioritizing my clan above all else and neglecting my own desires. It’s become second nature, so much so that I didn’t realize what I truly needed until this moment.” His thumb grazed your lower lip, a gesture filled with longing. “It’s you,” Bi-Han declared, his voice echoing with a possessive growl that emboldened him. “I want to taste you, to feel you. I need you.”

Your expression softened even further, a tired yet content smile gracing your lips. “I’m here.” Those words were all Bi-Han needed to act. As his lips met yours, he felt the warmth radiating from your body, a heat he was determined to temper. Your kiss was slow and tentative, your movements guided by exhaustion and lingering pain. Bi-Han welcomed your presence, relishing the sensation of your lips against his. He felt every subtle shift and curve; your lips were so much softer than he ever could imagine, delicate like butterfly wings. Your taste was intoxicatingly sweet and warm, tinged with the fever that had consumed you, yet achingly innocent.

It felt like stepping onto solid ground after sailing through a raging storm, finally finding a peace and comfort he had never experienced before. It felt like returning home, to where he truly belonged—welcoming, gentle, and forgiving.

“Bi-Han,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if afraid to disturb the delicate moment. Pulling back slightly, you sought to catch your breath, your lips brushing against the tip of his chin in a tender kiss. Nestling your head against the crook of his neck, your hand resting gently on the side of his neck. “Thank you for trusting me enough to give me a chance.” you murmured, your words laden with sincerity.

Then, as if on cue, your body grew heavy, slipping into the embrace of sleep. Careful not to disturb you, he adjusted your position to ensure your comfort, his hand instinctively finding its way to gently stroke your hair. It felt natural, as if he had been doing it all his life, bringing him a sense of peace he had long yearned for.

“Trust, huh,” Bi-Han whispered to himself, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. It struck him then that this was exactly what he was offering you in this moment. As you lay peacefully, surrendering yourself to him, Bi-Han couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Everything felt so right, so true, in this moment with you. If breaking his oath was the price to taste this peace, he was willing to pay it. His decision was made the instant he lay down beside you, even if he couldn’t bring himself to admit it.

As your skin gradually returned to its normal temperature, Bi-Han found comfort in the gentle contact. Your touch, a testament to your presence, was undeniably soothing. It carried a silent promise of healing, a balm for the wounds inflicted by the curse. Like the calm waves of the morning sea caressing the shore, your essence enveloped his soul, offering comfort and reassurance. The rhythm of your breathing, the soft glow of the lamp, the weight of your body against his—all of it contributed to a sense of serenity that permeated the room. For a moment, Bi-Han allowed himself to relax fully, succumbing to the tranquility that surrounded him. With a sense of surrender, he closed his eyes, trusting that his brothers would keep watch and ensure your safety for the hours ahead.

He had harbored a lifelong aversion to physical contact, but now, as he yearned to etch into his memory the sensations evoked by your touch, along with every intricate detail, he realized that touching could bring comfort and pleasure instead of pain.

And it was all because of you…

***

Author’s Note : As you can see, Bi-Han was a virgin before being sealed inside the book, due to his strong aversion to physical touch… But! He’s in good hands now. Welcome to the party, Bi-Han, albeit a bit late. Better late than never, right? By the way, Bi-Han sees the reader as non-threatening, which is why her touch doesn’t hurt him at all, but he isn’t aware of this. Subconsciously, he’s reacting this way, and it’s only with his brothers where he truly feels safe. Reader is now a part of that inner circle.

See you in the next chapter! 🥰

#mortal kombat #bi han x y/n #bi han x you #bi han x reader #bi han mortal kombat #kuai liang x y/n #kuai liang x you #tomas x you #tomas x reader #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 bi han #mortal kombat1 #smoke mk1 #ao3 writer #ao3fic #ao3 author #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic

[janeyseymour]

La Cosa Nostra- pt 11

cowritten with @schemmentis

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.

Summary: Melissa's pissed with recent news, the Feds are back at it, and you go to a place and person to find some comfort.

WC: ~2.05k

At this news, Melissa quickly slips into the seat on the other side of Dom's table. “Are ya crazy? I told you they've already torn this place to shreds, and you want to bring the money in through here?” She hisses as she leans more into the middle of the table. “Listen, losin’ the salon is already bad enough. You know what it did to Y/N when you took her off it.”

“That didn't come from me, Mel. I just had to deliver the message. You know that.”

“I don't care who it came from. You knew, and you did it just the same. Now you have the coglioni to sit here and say we should run it through here. I already ain't gonna forget the slightin’ of my wife, youse know that- the lot of you. You wanna tell me I gotta run this shit through my restaurant? Then tell me. Don't act like this is some proposition, Dominic. Tell me what to do, and I'll handle it. ‘Cause you and I both know how this shit works, but I am tellin’ you,” Melissa points an index finger at the man across from her sternly. “Right here, right now, I am tellin’ you; this fucks up my restaurant and youse all are gonna have a much bigger problem than the fuckin’ Feds, capisce?”

Dominic's face remains neutral, though there is an amused glint to his eyes as his palm shifts along the head of his cane. He nods quickly and respectfully to Melissa. “We want things to go well even more than you do, kid.” He says softly.

Melissa leans back in chair, arms crossing over her chest. She raises an eyebrow, silently urging him to say what he needs to say. 

“We'll work out the details on our end. You only have to make sure you're here when the money comes through. Simple as that.” Dom says. He sighs when Melissa still merely stares at him expectantly. “Sí, sí. We're telling you this is how it's gonna work from now on. Clear out a spot in the office in the back. Nobody else needs to know it's anythin’ different than a regular shipment comin’ once in a while. None of it happens if you ain't here. This is big, Lissa. They're trustin’ you.”

“Like they trusted my wife?” Melissa spits out as she pushes herself out of the chair. “Texts only. They call and wake up my girls while they’re sleepin’, I'll take one of my bats to their kneecaps.” She adds on her way past Dom in his seat to storm back toward the kitchen.

You raise a brow as you watch your wife storm into the back and Dominic starts to slowly make his way out. You grab one of the other servers milling about, silently asking them to keep an eye on your girls while you go check on the redhead.

When you get into the back, she’s slamming her fist into the linoleum counter where they prep the food. Her hand is already bruising, and you take her fist gently into your own.

“My love,” you whisper as you hold her hand in yours.

“Let me go,” she hisses.

You shake your head, refuting her request. “You’re hurting yourself. You know I can’t let you do that.”

“I don’t give a shit,” she grumbles as she starts to curl her other hand into a fist. You grab the other one before she can even think about causing damage to that hand.

“Melissa.”

“They’re usin’ the restaurant as their new front,” your wife tells you quietly. “Said that it’s what we have to do, and they trust me… that we’re in the clear because the feds saw how busy we are and that we bring the girls around here, so it has to be safe.”

“I’m not letting you do this,” you tell her. “And I’m not letting them put the girls in danger.”

“We don’t got an option, Y/N. I told Dom I would handle it,” Melissa sighs as she leans against you. “And I will. You just… take care of the girls. No matter what happens.”

“Melissa, don’t talk like that- like you’re gonna die.”

“I’m just being realistic. You did the same when they were using the salon,” your wife says softly. “We both knew that if something happened, I’d have to keep the girls safe. But now, it’s on me, and I know that you’d do the same if something were to happen. We don’t have a choice.”

“Fuck,” you whisper again. “Shit.”

“Get… get the girls out of here, and tell them that I’ll be home late tonight,” your wife runs a hand over her face. “I have to make it work here.”

“No,” you say softly. “I’ll… I’ll get someone to come pick them up so I can help you.”

“Y/N,” Melissa grits out. “Go. I can handle this.”

You give her a look, one that tells her she doesn’t have to do this- that you’ll handle it. You don’t want to have her be the one in danger.

But she just shakes her head and insists you get the girls out of here- just in case Dom did give the two of you up, and he’s setting you up for failure. The girls cannot watch their mother(s) go down.

You cradle her face in your hands, kissing her a few times. “No more punchin’ things, hey? Can't have you bustin’ up those pretty fingers more than you already do.” You whisper. “I'll take care of the girls. You do what you gotta do.” When she nods, just a little, you kiss her one more time before finally turning away.

You gather your girls with a thank you to the server watching them for you. 

“Mam! We have to wait for Mommy!” Cat is insisting as you walk with both your girls out the front door.

“Auntie Val needs Mommy's help tonight, sweetheart. So, we're gonna go home and make sure everything is cleaned up and nice for her, okay?” You speak to your girls though you're glancing around the parking lot on the way to your car.

You take note of Dom's car pulling out but don't see any cars with sirens or lights careening into the lot afterward. You carefully buckle your girls into the backseat. When you're shutting the back door after making sure they're both safe, you look around again on the walk around to the drivers side. There's nothing different or out of the ordinary. No sign of agents or officers. Which means Dom has only done exactly as he said he did.

You slip into the driver's seat, throwing your seatbelt on. You swallow as you carefully pull out of the spot and towards home. Dom telling the truth is maybe worse than if he had flipped. They're really putting this on Melissa and Twelve Tables. Part of you despises it. The amount of risk it puts on your wife. You know it intimately. The other part, the part that grew up in all this and doesn't know anything else, that part is proud as hell. It isn't anything to turn your nose up at to be entrusted with the process of mafia money. It speaks volumes. Volumes that equally excite and terrify you.

Danik and Shaw are back at the precinct, contemplating everything that Dominic told them- that you and your wife had nothing to do with the murder of Bobby. He told them that even if you did have something against the man, you could never do anything- you rescue wasps because you don’t have the heart to kill them despite the fact that your wife is always screaming at you to kill the damned demons. They go over the fact that you bring your twins into your restaurant, you take the girls to church with you, you always are on time to get the girls to and from school. If you were a part of the mafia and mob that dealt with things pertaining to ordering hits and murder, you wouldn’t be such dutiful mothers.

But they also know that you never brought the girls into the salon- they’ve only ever seen the two girls with you at the restaurant. And that is a bit suspicious in their eyes. So, they plan to head back to the salon the following day.

When they get there, you aren’t there- which is unusual. You’re almost always there, and they know that. Instead, Tony is out on the floor with the other stylists. But you are nowhere to be seen; your car isn’t even in the lot. And it isn’t in the lot because you’re somewhere else.

You’re sitting in the sanctuary of your church. After dropping the girls off at school and leaving your wife to her restaurant turned mafia front, you go to the one place where you can find some sort of solitude- because even now your home reminds you of everything happening in your world.

There’s no service today, so you find yourself sitting in the back pew by yourself, looking up at the ceiling. You’re speaking silently to whatever God is out there to please spare your family from all of the heartache that you can only imagine is in your inevitable future. Finally, you bow your head, and you begin to weep silently. 

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel someone slide into the pew next to you and wrap an arm around your shoulder. Your eyes pop open in surprise, and when you look next to you, Barbara is sitting there.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t ask why you’re here and not at the salon or at the restaurant. She doesn’t mention that she knows what the two of you do outside of your legal businesses. No- she sits in complete and utter silence as she holds you gently. And you can’t do anything about it. You can’t explain why you’re here in a puddle of your own tears, not without giving away what she already knows to be true. So you don’t say anything. You just continue to cry out your fears and worries over everything while clinging to the shawl that Barbara has draped over her shoulders. And when you pull away, you let out an ugly, choked out laugh.

“You probably think I’m crazy.”

“Crazy? For coming to the one safe little corner of the earth where you can feel anything and do anything and not be judged for it?” the woman asks you. She shakes her head silently. She takes your hand in her own, and together the two of you pray. You don’t realize that she is praying for the same thing that you are, but she is. The two of you silently pray that you’ll somehow get yourself out of this mess- that your family will be able to return to some sort of normalcy- or better yet turn a new leaf and start a new life where there is no mafia or mob, no illegal businesses that put everyone in harm’s way.

And when you lift your head, hers is still bowed for a few seconds before she lifts it with a quiet, “Thank you, God.” And then, as if nothing happened, she pats your hands gently with her own and goes on her way. 

You take a few deep breaths once Barb is gone. Carefully trying to get yourself together. You wipe at your cheeks and eyes, focusing on the distant altar at the pulpit. You sit in the last pew, breathing deep and slow. Staring at the large depiction of Jesus on the cross behind the altar. Slowly, you feel the serenity you were hoping to. You don't know that praying will do anything, actually change anything, but it's at least felt like getting it off your chest. In a way that doesn't jeopardize your family or anyone else. You suddenly understand Barbara's devout faith. You can't say that will ever be you but you get it. You make the sign of the cross over your head and chest as you finally rise from the pew and slowly make your way out of the quiet church.

TAGS (and let me know if you want to be added!): @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #mel #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

[vintagenahbi]

HOME pt.1

Jin x Reader

Summary: You and Jin discover that you are expecting your first child, but are faced with challenges that neither of you could imagine.

Warnings: topics related to pregnancy that could be considered controversial.

Jin and the guys were about to start shooting In the Soop when I got the news I would be allowed on set with them. I had been dating Jin for two years now, but never got the chance to see him in his work element. I was so busy with work myself that I rarely had the time to visit him or even know what all went on behind the scenes.

Unfortunately, I had been sick for the past two weeks and Jin did not feel comfortable leaving me home. Since I had moved to South Korea alone, I didn’t have anyone to care for me, leaving the only option of going on set. It was entirely Jin’s idea to have me near him in case my sickness worsened.

When we arrived, everything was going smoothly for me. I made it to my room which was separate from the main house so I wouldn’t be seen by any of the cameras. I had my own space that Jin could come see me anytime, not to mention the beautiful view outside my window. Although I felt a little isolated I didn’t mind. It was peaceful being in nature, not having to work and only focusing on getting better. Plus I got to spend some time with Jin.

I put on my lounge wear and got into bed immediately after unpacking. I had been exhausted, I had flu symptoms that were out of this world. Some days all I could do was stay hunched over the toilet for hours at a time. After a while it started to take a toll on my body causing me to be tired all the time. I knew once my head hit my pillow I was going to be out like a light.

I heard a soft knock at my door. I sat up to see Jin’s head peaking through. I smiled as he walked his way over to me. He sat on the bed with his long slender frame. He looked at me with his stare lingering down to my lips. I quickly pressed my lips against his causing him to blush. He pulled me in for a hug, pushing me down back on the bed attacking me with kisses. I started to giggle.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me. I wish you felt a little better though.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. As I was about to kiss him, I felt the sudden urge to throw up. I moved him away, rushing into the bathroom. I lifted the toilet seat up and all the contents from my stomach came rushing out. Jin stood behind me rubbing my back. I tried to apologize but I was too sick to even speak.

I heard Jin sigh. Being this sick was almost unbearable. I had never felt this bad in my life. I wanted to cry and apologize, but nothing ever came out.

We heard someone yell out Jin’s name to signal him to come back for a side interview. He rubbed my back one more time kissing my forehead. He left the bathroom. I curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor simply because I was too weak to get up. I started to cry because having no control over my body for two weeks was causing me to suffer. Then it suddenly dawned on me. The light bulb went off and I gathered the strength to figure out what was behind this sudden illness.

I sat on the bed holding the slender object in my hand. Hours had passed and I had not seen Jin since earlier. I heard on a knock on the door and it was Jin. I hide the object in my hoodie pocket. I grabbed his hand and walked him over to the bathroom again. I turned off his mic as if I was a secret informant who couldn’t have this conversation get to anyone else.

I took the object out my pocket and handed it to Jin. He looked at it. I watched his expression closely. Nothing changed. Absolutely no reaction. He handed it back to me.

“Jin say something.” He ran his hand through his hair.

“We can’t.” Those words cut me like a knife. “We can’t have a kid right now. The timing is not good.” I looked at him shocked. His facial expression shifted from panic to a realization of what he had said. “I didn’t mean that.”

“So I’m gonna have to raise this baby alone? Like you said it’s not a good time for you.” I shoved him away. He grabbed my arm and wrapped his arms around me. I cried against his shoulder. He held me close almost as if it were for dear life. I could feel his breathing quicken and his heart was pounding.

Jin pulled me away and rubbed his thumb against my cheek. I cleaned my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie. He lifted my chin to look up at him. I could tell he was about to get serious. Before he could speak I cut him off.

“I want this baby.” He had no verbal response, he only pulled me back in for a long embrace.

“I want it too. I’m sorry I reacted that way, it’s just that it’s sudden. I thought I’d be married first. I thought you’d get to know my family better, not to mention I haven’t met yours yet. I thought it would be different.” I nodded my head in agreement. I thought it would be different as well, but these were the cards we were dealt. It was starting to make sense. All the sickness, me barely being able to stay awake during work, constantly bloated.

He grabbed my hand and took me over to the bed. We laid down and cuddled for a while. The entire time he kept his hand on my stomach, nearly imagining what was about to be. Jin checked his phone and saw that he had 5 missed messages telling him to come back to the main house. He left again and I was stuck there to face the reality alone. My mind excited, my body weak.

The next day I managed to go unseen. I got a ride to the doctors so that Jin and I could confirm if I was really pregnant. The doctor gave me the news I was already expecting. I was 9 weeks pregnant, however I was blindsided when I immediately found out this pregnancy could cost me mine and the baby’s life. I sat on that doctor’s chair frozen. The drive back I felt absolutely numb.

I got back into my room and crawled into bed. The room was spinning and everything felt like it was a dream. Jin walked in without knocking this time to make sure I was okay.

“What did the doctor say?” Jin said inquisitively.

“He said that it’s a high risk pregnancy. I could have this baby but there is a-“ I paused for a moment to clear the lump out of my throat. “There is a chance that I and/or the baby might die.” The last word nearly took Jin’s breath away. He sat on the bed immediately taking in the news he just heard. “Before you say anything, I still think we should keep this baby.” He looked at me with a stern face. He rubbed his tongue on his inner cheek to contain what I assumed was anger.

“No.”

“Jin, I want this baby.”

“No Y/N, our story isn’t going to end with me losing you. You can’t. I don’t want you to. I can’t lose the thing that jolted me back to reality. I’m not losing you.” I started to get teary eyed. I understood his pain. Although it had been two years of dating, I had found my best friend. Now there was a chance that that would be taken from the both of us or we would have to grieve the pain of losing a baby.

“Jin.” I whispered. He looked at me with tears flowing down his cheek. The door suddenly opened and we both looked. It was a PA telling Jin to go back again. He collected himself and stood up. Before he left the room he turned back to look at me.

“I can’t lose you Y/N.”

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts reader #bts x reader #bts #bts jin #jin x reader #jin imagine #jin #kim soekjin #soekjin x reader #bts soekjin

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ~ 𝐩𝐭. 𝐨𝐧𝐞🤍

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

previously titled Talk Dirty

word count: 1.7k

genres/tropes: romance, dealer!chris, sturniolo au, slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers

teaser: here

summary: Christopher Sturniolo has built an unshakeable empire in Los Angeles, California. He manages "business transactions" and "cargo export and intake" along with his two brothers, Matthew and Nicolas. One night the three gentlemen attend a high-end nightclub in the more affluent district and are met with a nervous bottle-girl working her first shift. Christopher strikes up conversation in the way only confident men can until an accident causes her to spill a drink on him. In a panic, she drags him to the bathroom to clean him up, and, quite amused, he lets her. Thus, their strange friendship begins.

warnings: drug usage, alcohol consumption, guns mentioned and used (non-sexual context), smut, mature themes and topics

notes from bambi: this is a multi-part series, and updates will be sporadic. lmk if you're interested in this one <3

The year I almost died held more excitement, danger, and tenacity than any one person deserves to encounter. Definitely more than I knew to prepare myself for…I wonder sometimes, as I look back on the events of these last few months, if the choice to go back and change anything is one I would make. 

But then, if I did, I would never have met Christopher Sturniolo, and I can confidently say he is worth every moment I spent at gunpoint.

My life as a bottle girl seems so far away now, though at the time, I couldn’t imagine anything more glamorous. Every darkened hour of my shift filled with music and soft neon, running trays of drinks beneath beautiful people on shining poles, weaving past tables covered with swaths of chips and cards and surrounded by only the most elite clientele Orange County, California so graciously offered.

It stands to mention that at the time I felt I had no talent, no prospects, and no education, and therefore would only get so far in life. Until Christopher, I sold myself short in every aspect of my life.

The hour of 2 a.m. always buzzed–the air itself breathed to the rhythm of some unknown heartbeat, all exemplified by the lively hum of the building of vices I called “work”. At 2:07 a.m. three gentlemen in dark suits accompanied by a small entourage were ushered into Private Room 9 and as I only just clocked in, I took them onto my books for the evening.

Pressing my hand on the opaque glass, I pushed the thin, floor-to-ceiling door inward and braced myself for whatever I might encounter. Working in the pleasure business left no room for shock or awe, and though I knew better than to comment on anything I may see, my face hadn’t quite picked up that particular skill.

The entourage caught my attention first. A dark-haired and strikingly beautiful young woman sat primly on a cushion near the darkest corner of the room, running her elegant fingernail along the edge of her empty glass. To one side of her sat a scantily-clad, gorgeously built man with a side shave, his curls tamed into a neat row down the back of his neck, and to the other side, one of the men in suits. I realized then that every man in a three-piece that sat before me also wore the same facial structure–I was looking at identical triplets. 

“You look so pretty!” the man with the side shave said to me, reaching over to lay an arm behind the girl.

“Thank you, sir, I try,” I responded, hoping to keep the conversation light and fast to disguise my glaring inexperience. I was rewarded with a simple chuckle–nice job. “How can I serve you tonight?”

One of the triplets spoke up. His voice had a gravelly quality that I made sure to note internally. “Pinot noir for the room, please.” He carried on with his individual order as I kept meticulous, if not shaky, written record in my notepad. 

“For you sir?” I directed this to another suited man, this one sporting a deep red tone to his hair. 

“Champagne, thank you.”

“Are we celebrating?”

The last triplet, who had up to this point remained silent, cracked a smile in the soft lighting. “You could say that.”

“And you, sir?”

He lounged in the plush couch beneath him as if completely at ease, which rendered me baffled–though perhaps this scene didn’t phase him as it did me. The first shift at a new job has a funny way of making you forget everything you’ve ever known.

“What do you recommend?” This one’s voice flowed like honey, smooth, slow, warm. 

I paused, thoughts trampling over themselves in an effort to tumble most ungraciously from my tongue. “...That depends, sir. What taste are you looking for?”

He waved his hand. “Christopher. Call me Christopher. You’re an employee, not a servant.”

The room chuckled along with him and returned to their own conversations. 

“Alright…Christopher,” I said, tasting the name for a moment before releasing it. “We have an excellent collection of reds, if you’d like a variety…Though I have to suggest the Oak Knoll Merlot, she has a bit of a plum taste without being too sweet,” I suggested. I clenched my fists slowly in the hope none of them would notice they’d previously been shaking–I really hoped I’d just told him the right shit, because if not, this night was about to go downhill very quickly.

Christopher nodded. “That one, then. Thank you.”

I dipped my head and turned to leave. 

“Miss,” his voice hummed, “What was your name?”

I looked back at Christopher and his loosened black tie, laid in such sharp contrast to his white button-down. “Cassandra.”

He smiled again. “Pleasure, Miss Cassie.”

I ducked out of the room as blush bloomed across my cheeks.

My heart thundered down to the main floor and all the way to the bar. With trembling hands I poured the wine, and unsure wrists did their best to support the tray of drinks. Weaving back through the crowd, I managed to keep from any mishaps, but only barely. One misstep and hundreds of dollars would splash all over patrons, staff, and the freshly cleaned floor–and off of my already-measly check. Finally off the social level, I ascended the underlit staircase and made my way toward the private rooms. The music pounded through the walls, our DJ losing himself in the height of his set, and the floor seemed to breathe in time with the sultry bass. Room 1, 3…5, there’s 7, 9, here we go…

I leaned against the door with my hip and entered the room once more. A faint, sweet smell touched my nose, and it twitched of its own accord.

“She’s back,” said Side Shave. “Hey, girl.”

“Hi,” I offered weakly, trying my hardest to focus on the drinks in hand. “Champagne…for you,” I said as I placed the tall flute in front of what I hoped was the right triplet. He smiled, revealing a small gap in his teeth. Dark red hair, gapped teeth…that’s one of them. Now how to tell the other two apart? 

“For you…” I murmured to the one with the gravelly voice, and he nodded his thanks. “The Pinoit for the room,” as I placed it on the low center table, “And the merlot for you, Mr. Christopher.”

At that moment, the glass door shattered into a thousand pieces, and I yelped, jumping in shock as the wine went flying all over Christopher.

Christopher's POV:

A man fell unconscious on the floor as bits of glass tinkled down around him. The culprit responsible for the door, I assumed. Looking around, I took note of the lack of injury, at least injury of the physical. Poor Cassandra stood frozen in shock, hands trembling, face drawn, taught with fear. “Matthew. Nicolas,” I said, “Please call security and have this man removed.” My brothers nodded and, after carefully stepping over the slovenly, drunken man on the floor, disappeared down the hall. “Ms. Thompson, take our lovely server to the bathroom please-” Tara stood to lead her out, but Cassandra suddenly leapt into action. 

“Your shirt, I am so sorry sir, let’s get you cleaned up, I–oh god, I’m so sorry, so sorry, I–” As she rambled, Cassandra took a firm and unyielding hold on my wrist, dragged me up from the couch, and before I could say a word, she tugged me around Tara and Larray, out through the door frame, past the arriving security guards, and down the darkened hallway. I blinked rapidly for a moment as my body ceased to become my own, held captive by the strange woman who led me toward…the bathroom? 

Sure enough, she ducked into the Women’s room, and I couldn’t help but smile a bit in apprehension. “What exactly are we doing in the restroom?”

Her breathing had become labored as she gulped oxygen around her stuttered apologies. “Your shirt, sir, it’s going to stain, we’ve got to–here I’ll just…”

My jaw went ever so slightly slack at the sight before me. Cassandra, who only moments before had been a simple picture of nightclub elegance, now furiously loosened my soaking tie, unbuttoned my dripping shirt, slipped them off my body, and threw them into the sink, running the water as cold as she could manage, scrubbing away at the red-stained fabric. “I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to–You have to know that was an accident, oh god, I’m so sorry, so sorry–”

In her manic cleansing, she failed to notice my hand until it rested on her shoulder, at which point she jumped, and my lip twitched. “My apologies. I don’t think you’re of any use to anyone if you deprive your body of air and keel over dead on the tile.”

She stood stock still, panting from the exertion of the past few minutes, her eyes locked onto mine.

“I know this wasn’t your fault. It wounds me that you think I’d be so unfair,” I said with what I hoped was a comforting smile. “After all we’ve been through together, you really think I’d take something so accidental and make it so personal?” I prayed she understood the sarcasm.

Cassandra cracked a smile that vanished as quickly as it appeared, though I would have none of it. “I saw that smile. There’s no going back now, I’m afraid.”

She looked to the floor and took a moment to breathe, or so I assumed. When she turned her gaze to me again, I saw a pooling of tears at the base of her eyes. 

Change the subject, you idiot. “Where did you learn the cold water trick for wine stains?” I asked, hoping to give her time to recover.

Cassandra went back to scrubbing relentlessly at my now-sopping wet shirt. “I know that cold water is best for blood stains, so I assumed it would work for wine as well,” she said quietly, the soft hiss of the water almost beating her out for volume. I snorted. “Do you deal often with blood-stained clothing?” Her gaze snapped to mine, and, realizing my mistake, Of course she does, you dolt, she’s a woman, I tried to recover myself. “Or do you take every man to the bathroom and strip him naked?” And now you’ve accused her of prostitution. Zero for three, Christopher.

#the sturniolos #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic smut #christopher sturniolo fanfic smut #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic fluff #christopher sturniolo fanfic fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #bambi slxt

[carnivorousmossbeast]

Tears of time

Content Warning: major character injury, Simon “Ghost” Riley’s backstory (adapted to my cause), can be read as major character death, major character injury

I’m going to try to update this every week! And I want to try something new, so I’m going to add polls to let you decide where you want this to go! Sharing is highly encouraged!

It started out as a regular morning in April when Simon Riley’s world shattered, and even time herself was moved to the point of tears.

They were ugly things, wicked and jagged and salty enough to leave burnt earth in their caustic wake, worse even than the rotting dead soil from which he had dug himself, burning beneath the desert sun until his skin turned red and flaked off dry and useless. He shed himself of the fear, the dirt and the epithelium, to reduce himself down to his core — painful, swollen red flesh ripe with infection. Cells bursting and spilling toxic deluge into his system with every move he made, stumbling beneath the unforgiving sun. His path until here had been harrowing, a nightmare that she couldn’t have dreamed any better herself, a cautionary tale of cockiness and end results.

Perhaps time should have cried back then already, but she hadn’t. She watched, she waited, she plotted and drank his dread like expensive red wine, and washed it down with his sorrow and the grief, watched him crawl out of his grave, out of his skin, something other, something that shouldn’t have been. Something that should have died and rotted with the broken, mangled jaw of Major Vernon. Instead, time let herself pass on the opportunity to catch him and on a whim aligned his path with a young sergeant from a Mexican special unit. A kind soul, one she knew she would take from, time and time again she would strip him down the same way she stripped them all, skin from muscle and muscle from bone, until they were grief-stricken and pained shells of their former selves, until they were nothing but a raw nerve, humbled by experience and the things they took for granted until she liberated them from their mindless grasp.

Perhaps she hadn’t cried for Simon Riley then because he’d only been a man. A sad man, a dry husk of a person. He’d danced across her battle fields, knocking into things like bran, uselessly dry and brittle, flakes of a core that had once been lively — before time had sunk her claws into him and ravaged him.

But when Simon Riley lost John MacTavish, time cried. His pain was too much for her, too intense did his anguish cover her lips and her eyes, sealing the tumultuous emotions inside instead of letting them pass through her, and perhaps for the first time in her entire existence, time opened her mouth and breathed. And did the cold, dank air of the abandoned Russian military complex bite her delicate throat and burn her sensitive nostrils. Diesel exhaust and old chemical agents cut into unused skin, ripped away the layer of stardust and cosmic detritus that had settled on her throughout the aeons of laziness.

Time cried, ravaged by her own hands and the pain they caused, and decided with tears brimming on her waterlines, that Simon Riley wouldn’t have to endure her without the man that humanised him. She decided that even a creature as wretched as Simon Riley deserved something as uniquely mundane and confusingly, singularly spectacular as love.

Time watched the last of her tears fall, and then cracked her spine before she got to work.

#fanfiction #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap #rodolfo parra #alejandro vargas #no beta I bite my own bullet

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 6

[all chapters here]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: I feel like this chapter took forever to write, but it was literally only a week (also shoutout to @eddiernunson for helping with it!)??? I put so much work into this one, so I can't wait to see what everyone thinks! Updates will probably change to weekly for the time being, as chapters are starting to get longer. Enjoy~~

wc: 5.7k

taglist: @a-queen-blr @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

Eddie once again met you outside the school on Monday morning, waiting - presumably for you - near the front entrance. As you spotted one another, Eddie grinned flirtatiously, and you relaxed your face, realizing that before making eye contact with Eddie that your jaw was clenched and your gaze was harsh. You hadn’t realized how cold your neutral expression was up until recently.

Eddie pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, meeting you at the front door in time to open it for you. The corner of your lip pulled up in thanks, and once you were both inside, Eddie rested his arm over your shoulders, causing you to let out a surprised breath as your neck grew just a touch warm. You were glad that you happened to have a book to hold and keep your hands occupied, as you just knew without it you’d have crossed your arms or let them awkwardly hang at your side; even in previous real relationships, you weren’t a particularly physical person.

“Princess,” He greeted mockingly, as if he knew putting his arm around you would make you tense.

Your eyes narrowed a little as you taunted back, “Freak.”

“I thought we said only nice nicknames.” Eddie turned his over-dramatic, sad eyes on you.

“I also remember telling you not to call me ‘princess.’” You retorted, intentionally avoiding his eyes.

“Ah, but it suits you, doesn’t it?” Eddie continued teasing as various students looked your way, some doing double-takes as they realized who you were walking with. Your eyes briefly flicked up to his face, but you looked away before he could notice your gaze.

As the pair of you approached your locker, you were almost disappointed that no one was lingering there prepared to try and drag you back in with the crowd you always knew. It was nearly surprising just how quickly everyone seemed to leave you in the dust the moment you started feigning any interest in Eddie - years of friendship really seemed to mean nothing, huh? But the disappointment didn’t show on your face, as it was outweighed by the opposite sense of relief that you didn’t have to put on too much of a show, that your plan had done its job almost too well.

Once you were at the locker, Eddie let his arm fall from you so you could shuffle around in your bag and your locker. You both took that opportunity to look around, and you nearly smiled when you realized Eddie was doing exactly the same thing as you - that he was looking for reactions, that he was looking for the faces of people that knew either of you. So, you noted, he seemed to be enjoying this charade, too.

“So,” Eddie eventually leaned against the wall of lockers to look at you as you fussed with your belongings, “my band has shows on Tuesday nights.”

“You’re in a band?” You ask with a hint of disbelief, looking up at his face for a moment, which furrowed a little at your question.

“I did mention I play guitar.”

“You didn’t mention the guitar or the band.” You countered smartly, to which Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Alright, fine,” You smirked to yourself while closing your locker, leaning your shoulder against it to mirror Eddie’s pose, “You should come to our show tomorrow.”

Before you could stop yourself, you made a critical face at the suggestion. Based on the way he dressed, you knew exactly the kind of music Eddie most likely played, and you were far from interested in that. And you had no idea if he was good or not, or who the hell his bandmates were - for all you knew, they were even bigger losers than him.

In response to your mean expression, Eddie narrowed his eyes, his jaw a touch tight, “Stop being stubborn. Maybe you’ll enjoy it.”

“I doubt it,” you said with an unamused grin. A moment later, Eddie looked past your shoulder, his eyes showing recognition for whoever the hell he was looking at. You whip around to see a friend of his, the one with the locker near yours; said friend appeared a little confused as he looked between you and Eddie.

Without warning, Eddie snatched your hand and dragged you in the other boy’s direction, causing you to nearly trip in the process. You, of course, glared at him for how quickly he pulled you along, but you said nothing as the two of you approached his puzzled friend.

“Gareth,” Eddie started with a charismatic grin, his voice loud with excitement that you weren’t prepared for. He tugged you alongside him, keeping a hold on your hand as if he were enjoying the fact that you couldn’t just pull away. With his free hand, Eddie presented you as if you were some prize, “You’re familiar with the resident ice princess.”

Gareth’s eyes went back and forth between the two of you, trying to keep his confusion from totally twisting his expression, which he did a poor job of. You, as well, were trying to keep your face from showing any annoyance or disorientation from this whole thing, although you were certain you instead just looked like a total bitch.

“Yes…” Gareth started hesitantly, his eyes finally settling on Eddie’s face, “I didn’t think you two knew each other, though…”

“Recent development.” Eddie shrugged nonchalantly, releasing your hand only to throw his arm on your shoulders again before you could retreat. You side-eyed him, briefly unconcerned with whether or not Gareth saw it - Eddie was being exceptionally annoying this morning.

“How did you two…?” Gareth pointed between you, his muddled voice trailing off.

You and Eddie looked at one another with realization - you didn’t have an answer for that. Neither of you had even considered that that was a story you needed, and you felt stupid for not thinking about it from the get go. Now, one of you had to come up with it on the fly; you weren’t sure if you’d prefer coming up with it yourself or leaving it to Eddie.

You should probably take this one, you decided - just your luck, if you left it to Eddie he’d come up with the most ridiculous story that could never hold up. Still staring up at him, you take a deep breath, prepared to come up with some explanation quickly, but Eddie beat you to the punch.

“We were meeting for a deal,” he began, and you briefly wondered if he was about to tell Gareth the truth, “chatting became flirting, so I asked her out on a whim; didn’t expect her to actually say ‘yes,’ though.”

Eddie gave you that charming smile of his, feeling your shoulders relax - that explanation was nice and simple, believable enough that no one would ask questions. It looked like it appeased Gareth, too, because his confusion didn’t appear nearly as blatant as it was a minute ago. You were sure he still found it odd and probably had minor doubts, but he didn’t seem the type to vocalize those things.

“She’s coming to our show tomorrow night.” Eddie added, to which you turned your harsh stare onto him again. Your mouth immediately opened to dispute, although you hesitated for a moment as you realized Eddie did this on purpose - he dragged you over  to his friend and put you on the spot, thinking you wouldn’t be able to argue in front of someone else. And you nearly debated whether or not you should, however, the small, smug look on Eddie’s face was exactly the catalyst you needed.

“I never said that.” You stated simply, watching the surprise that crossed Eddie’s face; yup, he didn’t think you’d debate this if another person was involved. You could see the hesitation in Gareth’s body language, could see that he was still getting over the fact that you and Eddie were, apparently, together.

“I thought you did?” Eddie put on a very convincing look, pretending to mull it over, trying to set you up to agree to it. You’d hand it to him, he was determined.

“No.” You raised your brow to challenge him, and you couldn’t help the small defiant smirk that dared to cross your lips, “I’ll need some incentive for that.”

“Whatever you want.” Eddie said without hesitation, returning his attention to Gareth with a humorous smile, “She’s not so bad once you get to know her.”

To that, you gave his chest a little smack, meeting Gareth’s eyes, which remained just as perplexed as before. Your customary impassive expression was on your face, “No, I’m worse.”

Gareth nearly looked nervous until you finally cracked a small smile, although he still seemed put off - he probably didn’t know whether or not you were kidding, even as you grinned at him. Maybe you needed to relax and not scare Eddie’s friends too much, it may eventually piss him off.

Eddie gave your shoulder a squeeze, as if it were a silent plea for you to behave yourself. You looked at his face for a few moments, once again challenging him, before returning your eyes to Gareth with a sigh.

“I’m not that bad.” You reassure plainly, certain that you don’t sound terribly convincing. Nonetheless, Gareth’s face isn’t nearly as hesitant, although you knew he was far from coming around to you.

“You get used to it.” Eddie chimed in while giving your shoulders a little tug, a signal that you two should start walking, “Don’t let her scare you too much, Gareth, the power will go to her head.”

You gave his chest another small smack while you scoffed. Eddie simply grinned and shook his head in amusement; he gave Gareth a nod of farewell before you two began to walk through the hall towards your first class of the day. Once you were out of earshot, you looked up at Eddie from the corner of your eye.

“Don’t set me up like that.” You instruct plainly, trying to avoid any malice that you would’ve used on him only a week ago.

“Oh, lesson learned.” Eddie retorted with a small sound of mirth, “I should’ve known you’d enjoy being difficult in front of other people.”

You shrugged, finding some mild amusement in it as well, “I just can’t seem to help myself.”

“You can say that again.” The pair of you walk in an easy silence for a few moments before Eddie looks at you with hopeful eyes, “But you will come tomorrow, right?”

You raise your brows at him, your face showing your disagreement with the question, “It’s not like I need to - I doubt anyone will be there to see us.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe how easily his thoughts and feelings about you fluctuated - one second, he enjoyed your company, the next he found you tiresome.

“Oh, come on,” Eddie started, studying your face, “Are we dating or not?”

“Well--”

“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut you off, knowing exactly what you’d say to his poorly phrased question. You nearly laughed, but tried to keep a straight face - you didn’t need Eddie seeing you amused while you were trying to argue your case with him, “You know you have to meet my friends eventually, might as well be now. And I’d bet your parents wouldn’t be so happy about you going to a dive bar with a guy they don’t even know.”

As you two paused outside of your classroom, you gave Eddie a scrutinizing look, mulling over his two points - the one about his friends was neither here nor there, but he did make a good point about your parents. And from the look on his face, you figured he also knew that it was a good point.

While you studied him, Eddie leaned towards your face, his voice challenging, “Live a little.”

You narrowed your eyes, wanting to argue despite knowing that you were already losing. As you stared at one another, Eddie raised his brows impatiently, urging you to agree already and stop being so stubborn. You finally shook your head with a sigh of defeat, your brow furrowing even more as a cocky grin spread across Eddie’s lip.

“Fine, I’ll go. But I’m not gonna like it.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You sneered with distaste as you eyed the Hideout, your gaze critical as you took in the neon signs, the filthy windows, and the crowds of older bikers and alcoholics. This is the place Eddie dragged you to? You could kill him for not better preparing you for just how seedy and unsavory it would be.

Behind you, Eddie and the band were pulling equipment from the back of the van, the clatter of cymbals and their mingling voices drawing your attention. As you turned around, they all quickly whipped their eyes in another direction, quieting just a little - of course they’d been staring at you, talking about you. How could they not, considering that all of a sudden you were dating one of the losers amongst them. And said loser gave you a friendly wink as you met his eyes, but your attention turned back to his friends, making them all nervous with your intense gaze.

Admittedly, you loved that they were scared of you, loved that they were too damn nervous to even look you in the eye. You couldn’t help but find it funny, and you figured it would take a long time to get them to even talk to you without tripping over their words.

You crossed your arms as you looked back up at the bar again, frowning, “This place looks like a venereal disease waiting to happen.”

You heard one of them make a surprised sound at your comment; you’d bet the band was sharing shocked, nervous glances just behind you.

“Relax, princess,” Eddie flung his arm over you, his guitar case in the opposite hand, “just try to have fun, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

You gave him a smart look, “You say that now, but just you wait until some creep tries to grope me.”

Eddie blew air between his lips, “You’d probably scare anyone that even looked at you funny. Besides, you already let one creep grope you.”

He made a grabby hand over your shoulder as if to suggest he was about to touch you indecently, and behind you two the band chuckled, causing Eddie to grin largely. You gave him an affronted look as you hit his shoulder.

“Shut up!” You were taken aback by the joke, but you realized Eddie was probably all riled up by his friends - he was a boy, after all, they always said shit just to make their friends laugh.

“Sorry, sorry.” He raised his arms in surrender, his eyes apologetic as they met yours, “None of those jokes, I get it.”

You continued to glare at him for another moment before looking back towards the band. Eddie introduced the other two that you hadn’t met before, but you were already forgetting their names. Jeff? Grant? You weren’t totally certain. You could see a thoughtful furrow in Gareth’s brow as you glanced over all of them, and something told you to pay attention to him - you had a feeling he didn’t believe you and Eddie, that if anyone were to figure out your lie it would be him. That made him a far more observant friend than any of yours.

Eddie took hold of your hand and started dragging you to the bar, his band following right behind the pair of you. As Eddie held the door open, the sound of bluesy rock music met your ears, and you took in the various patrons and surroundings of the Hideout. You could immediately tell the Hideout seemed to cater to musicians - the stage was cramped, but well-loved, central with bright lights and a crowd formed to watch the band currently in the spotlight. The place wasn’t packed - after all, it was a Tuesday - but there were more people than you were expecting.

You could tell your group brought the median age of the bar down dramatically, everyone else looking 40 or older. As you made your way through the patrons, a few glanced at the band in recognition, one man even clapping Eddie on the shoulder as you passed. Corroded Coffin must have spent a lot more time here than you gave them credit for.

You stayed practically tucked into Eddie’s side as he led you through the Hideout, not wanting to get lost amongst the crowd of drunks. Once you reached the bar, Eddie greeted the bartender with familiarity, pulling you in closer to introduce you to the man with an eager grin, really selling that you were his girlfriend. His tone could’ve even fooled you.

“Keep an eye on her, alright, she’s trouble.” Eddie joked with the bartender, causing you to roll your eyes as they laughed.

“You look like you can handle yourself.” The bartender offered while meeting your eyes. Although he had a rough exterior, there was nothing about his gaze that felt off, so you gave him a small look of confirmation.

“That’s the problem.” Eddie teased, looking at you playfully.

You realized the rest of Corroded Coffin was already waiting in the wings, watching the other band finish up their set. Eddie gave your hand a small tug, drawing your attention back to him; he leaned down a little as he spoke, mouth close to your ears so you could hear him over the loud music.

“Stay here with Jack, alright?” He nodded his head towards the bartender, “That way I don’t lose you.”

“I thought you said this place wasn’t as bad as it looked.” You pulled back a little so he could see you raise a taunting brow.

“It’s not.” He reiterated, “but just my luck, you’ll draw trouble to you.”

You hummed in disagreement, “If there’s trouble, that’s on you.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Eddie grinned in contrast to his words, his eyes amused. He leaned towards you again as if he wanted to put on some show of physical affection, but hesitated; why did that ever so briefly make you nervous? Instead, he pulled his hand from yours while bringing his lips close to your ear again; you unconsciously flexed your hand now that it was free.

“We’re going on soon. Try to have fun.” Eddie took a deep breath before pulling back, and you almost thought that he had smelled your hair, but you figured that couldn’t be true.

As he’d done before, Eddie’s fingers grazed your back as he walked off in the direction of the stage. You watched him closely, the realization hitting you that this was a new place and you knew no one here. And it’s not that that frightened you or made you nervous, but the observation put you on your guard, made you a little more tense and aware of your surroundings.

Your eyes stayed locked on Eddie as he laughed with his friends, taking the stage to set up their equipment. You took the opportunity to study him, taking in the way his laugh spread through his entire body, the way he seemed to be so much more dramatic and playful and boisterous with his friends around. For a few moments, you didn’t even realize you were nearly smiling, although your expression quickly evened out with that realization. What the hell were you smirking about?

“Drink?” Jack’s gravelly voice asked over your shoulder, so you turned back towards the bar and eyed him momentarily.

“No, I’m not--”

He cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand, knowing what you were going to say about your age, “Does this look like the kind of place that cares?”

His tone was matter-of-fact, and you smirked in appreciation at it. You considered for a moment what you wanted to drink, hopping up into one of the bar chairs as Jack watched you patiently, “What’s the girliest drink you know how to make?”

He laughed at the question, shaking his head but accepting it, “Ah, one girly drink coming right up.”

The corner of your mouth tugged back - there was something about Jack that instantly amused you. Maybe his grumpy vibes were entertaining, or maybe it was the fact that he found his own amusement in your drink order. Regardless, maybe it wasn’t so bad that Eddie effectively left this man as your babysitter.

The sound of a bass being tuned caused you to look back up at the stage. Eddie’s guitar was slung over his shoulder as he discussed something with the band, everyone looking prepared to start any minute now.

As Jack set a pretty drink in front of you, Eddie tested the mic, looking delighted at the crowd as the band finished their preparation. Again, you caught yourself smiling a little, blindly picking up your drink from the bartop as you continued to watch Eddie.

Of course, the almost endearing look on your face disappeared entirely once the music started. Just as you had expected, the drums were loud, the guitar thrashing, and Eddie’s singing rough and whiny. You couldn’t help the sneer on your face - this was so not your kind of music. Although the crowd seemed to respond positively, this just wasn’t your scene, and you unintentionally sat stiffly in your seat.

You hoped the lights were bright enough that Eddie couldn’t see you. Considering that his eyes hadn’t settled on you in some time, you figured the stage lighting made it difficult to find you. You just knew the disinterest that your body language exuded was bound to annoy him to some extent. Sure, you could fake being his girlfriend easily enough, but you couldn’t fake any interest in metal music. It was so damn loud and aggressive that it made your chest hurt and left your head confused.

However, once you got past that, you were able to study Eddie a little more. He was… actually good at this. You knew absolutely nothing about music, but just from watching Eddie you recognized how complicated the guitar was, how much skill it actually took to play these complex chords. His vocals were another story, but with that guitar Eddie showed an impressive amount of expertise, skilled hands with an intense care and focus. At one point, you nearly began to zone out while watching Eddie’s hands work up and down the neck of the guitar, and when you finally shook yourself out of the trance, you had to wonder just how long you’d been staring so damn intently at Eddie’s hands.

As the band played on, Jack brought you a second drink before you were even done with your first. You smiled in thanks before knocking back what was left in your first glass. Like any good popular high school kid, you’d been to your fair share of parties with alcohol aplenty, but that didn’t make you any less of a lightweight. One drink you could handle just fine, but it was always the second drink that started to make things a little blurry. So, you eyed your new glass warily, deciding whether or not you were brave enough to drink it.

But what did you have to lose? Despite its appearances, you were safe enough here at the Hideout, you figured you wouldn’t be out too late, and one more drink wasn’t going to totally mess you up. So, you grabbed the glass decisively, returning your attention to Eddie as you took a sip. You’d just cut yourself off after this one, no need to get plastered on a Tuesday night.

But damn it, Jack was too good a bartender, because as you were about finished with this glass, he put another in front of you. You furrowed your brows a little, stopping him before he could walk away and attend to the other patrons.

“I really shouldn’t!” You had to shout over how damn loud Corroded Coffin was - did someone turn up the speakers, or did they sound even louder because of your drinks? Jack leaned on the counter, his expression gruff but his eyes somehow still kind. He pointed in Eddie’s direction.

“Have one more, I trust that kid’ll take good care of you.” You made a doubtful face, looking between Jack and the drink. Unconsciously, you went back to sipping at the one in your hand, scrutinizing the bartender, “I’ve known Eddie since he was 14 - when I say he’ll take good care of you, I mean it.”

The comment was surprisingly genuine, causing you to cock your head curiously. Seeing something in your expression change, Jack gave you the slightest of smirks before turning his attention onto the other waiting customers. You realized a moment later that you hit the bottom of your glass; you stared at the melting ice briefly before looking at the new drink in front of you. Fine, one more. As you swapped the glasses, you hopped to your feet, forgetting that Eddie had asked you to stay at the bar.

That second drink put you a little more at ease; the loud music didn’t bother you nearly as much as it did before, and you didn’t mind pushing your way through the bar patrons anymore. You didn’t know where you wanted to go exactly, but you knew you needed to get on your feet for a little bit. So, you began to maneuver closer to the stage, keeping to one side of the crowd so you weren’t entirely packed between people. Your gaze stayed almost zeroed in on Eddie, taking in his stage presence thoughtfully.

Aside from him actually showing talent that you weren’t expecting, you also noticed how excited he was to be up there playing for people. The elation in his face, the animation in his body language - he had a lot of love for music, that was obvious to you. And because the drinks had been loosening you up over the course of the set, you realized that you were actually smiling as you watched him, actually enjoying the sight of Eddie live it up on this dinky little stage.

You didn’t even try to fight the look on your face, assuming that Eddie still couldn’t see you - you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were having a good time, after all. You even caught yourself tapping your foot along to the music at one point, as if the rhythm was beginning to make sense to you. It was more than just cacophonous noise - or at least that’s how it felt now that you were nearly three drinks deep - although you still didn’t quite understand the appeal of metal. Nonetheless, you found yourself trying to enjoy it.

It was as Eddie announced the final song that you finished your drink, leaving the empty glass on some nearby table. For a moment, you caught yourself wishing you weren’t here alone, wishing you could’ve dragged Amelia or Janet here to keep you company. Although the music and venue were far from anyone’s taste, this was exactly the kind of thing you all would have normally done together. But just as quickly as you thought that, you also remembered all the times Amelia had just disappeared on you at parties, all the times Janet flaked at the last minute when you discussed going to shows up in Indianapolis.

You got so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn’t realized Corroded Coffin just wrapped up their set. And you didn’t come back to yourself until a hand cupped your ass, immediately setting you off like dynamite.

You whipped around to find a grimy but otherwise nondescript man lingering behind you, a slimy look on his face. You were also briefly aware of Eddie’s voice calling something from the wing of the stage, but you were already in go-mode, arm reeling and swinging ungracefully to crack the guy. Your aim was a little off and you nearly missed, but you still managed to make contact, although with his throat rather than his jaw like you intended. If there was any pain in your own hand, you probably wouldn’t notice it until tomorrow.

As he stumbled back, you felt someone else come up behind you, and you were about ready to hit them, too, until you were spun around to face Eddie. He held your shoulders, but you still had to steady yourself by grabbing his forearms, meeting his shocked eyes with far too much of a calmness about you. Eddie’s brow furrowed as he looked you up and down then looked past you at the man you hit, then back at you.

“Jesus, can’t leave you alone, can I?” His tone was bewildered, as if he couldn’t believe he saw you, the ice princess, hit a guy. Sure, he knew you had quite a bark, but he didn’t know you also had a bite.

Thanks to the drinks in you, a laugh escaped your throat - was it a nervous one, or did you find the whole thing actually funny? You looked back at the man to see him already being taken care of, Jack dragging him out of the bar. No one else seemed to bat an eye at the ruckus, perhaps because they were used to it, choosing to carry on and ignore it. You met Eddie’s concerned eyes again, grinning uncharacteristically large.

“Fucking idiot.” Eddie looked nearly offended until he realized you were talking about the man and not him. He sighed, shaking his head with near mirth, still trying to wrap his head around this whole thing.

But after a few moments, he laughed - it was small and breathy, but when his eyes met yours again, there was definitely a glimmer of amusement there. He stepped back from you looking around in disbelief, a smile threatening to pull at his lips.

“Don’t piss you off, got it.” Eddie finally smiled while looking you up and down; now that the shock had passed, he was actually a little impressed by how it handled yourself. Feeling a touch sobered up, you shrugged in defense of yourself.

“Well, he shouldn’t have acted like an idiot.” Eddie chuckled at your comment, nodding in agreement.

“I didn’t know you had a right hook like that.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” You counter, swaying a little on your feet yet again, which made your statement nearly laughable. Eddie put out his arm in case he needed to steady you, looking you over heedfully.

“I think it’s time we get you home.” He says simply, putting his hand to the small of your back and guiding you towards the band as they packed up their equipment. You allowed him to lead you, although you rolled your eyes a little at how cautious he was being with you, as if you were a baby bird or something.

“Oh, come on, the night is young.” You say far too lightheartedly, making Eddie eye you with a curious look - after all, this lax attitude was incredibly odd for you. Is this how you always behaved when you drank? Open and approachable and even a little fun? He’d have to keep that in mind, keep an eye on you in the future.

“You’ll regret saying that tomorrow.” Eddie teased while grabbing his guitar case from where it leaned against the wall. Meanwhile, you relaxed against a nearby speaker, watching as the group finished collecting their belongings. You realized Gareth was looking at you, and rather than glower as you’d normally do, you instead gave him a tipsy grin. That seemed to confuse him even more, as he nervously looked back at what he was doing.

“You guys aren’t half bad.” You say to no one in particular, although they all briefly glanced up with varying degrees of surprise. Only Eddie smiled.

“Is that meant to be a compliment?” He ribbed. You playfully made a face, but didn’t grace him with a response.

Eventually, you and Eddie were back in the van, the rest of Corroded Coffin having carpooled separately. As Eddie pulled away from the Hideout, you watched him drive, studying his hands as they drummed on the steering wheel. Some metal music you weren’t familiar with played through the speakers, but luckily Eddie kept the volume low enough that your brain didn’t rattle.

Watching Eddie’s fingers move, you recalled his skill on the guitar, how easily his fingers slid over the strings, how his hands practically danced on the instrument. It was a talent that you actually found quite impressive, although you weren’t about to divulge that information to him. You turn your attention to his face, how the moonlight highlighted certain features; a sheen of sweat caused his bangs to stick to his forehead, his cheeks still flushed, a content look settled on his face. Once again, you found yourself zoning out as you stared at him.

“You were good tonight.” The words left your mouth unexpectedly as you continued staring at him, and Eddie looked over at you with disbelief, as if you actually giving him a compliment was so foreign. His eyes pulled you from your slight daze, and you tried to collect yourself but fumbled, “You’re good at… guitar.”

God, that sounded stupid. And as if to emphasize it, Eddie laughed merrily, clearly delighted by your own confusion in your phrasing. You glared harshly, hating the fact that you sounded so dumb.

“Your singing could use some fucking work, though.” You retaliated unnecessarily, huffing as you crossed your arms and slouched in the seat. Eddie’s laughter died down as he looked at your pouting face, although that in itself made him want to keep laughing. But he pushed down that desire, not wanting to get you riled up.

“Oh, come on,” he reached over to nudge your knee, his palm hot against your skin. If you weren’t so grumpy, you probably would have liked the feel of it, “Sorry… but thank you. Glad to know I’m good at guitar.”

You glanced at him, still glaring, but his expression was genuine and nonjudgmental, sweet even, and you felt yourself begin to relax.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things

[thoughtsbydorian]

Random Hazbin HCs cause I can’t sleep

- The cannibals don’t have eyes because they eat them after they regenerate. Cannibal town works so well because no one actually dies they just take turns being eaten before regenerating. Cannibals are NOT hellborn, rather most of them are victorian folks who indulged in the mummy craze.

- Molly died before angel dust, i think she died in a shooting because of the mafia when they were teens/young adults. Hence why Molly was never really involved in the family business and I think it could also account for Angel’s turn to illicit substances.

- Angel and Husk knew each other in life, maybe even hooked up briefly. Husk is actually the younger of the two but not by a lot.

- Charlie used to have another group of sinner friends but they were all killed in the first extermination.

- Angel and Alastor are the only ones of the main crew who were never married in life.

- Nifty got married her senior year of high school and did her best to be the perfect wife. She had some fertility issues and had mental breakdown, causing her husband and family to have her institutionalized. After a while she escaped and took out her rage on her husband and her older cousin who he was cheating on her with. She ended up setting the house on fire and causing a small explosion in which she lost an eye. However she tried to continue her rampage, going to her parents where her father was the one who shot her down.

- Vaggie was never alive. Rather she was created to care for children souls in heaven before she was recruited to be an exorcist. Part of the reason she became an exorcist was to protect the kids. She was under the impression that all children went to heaven. Though when she went to kill the cannibal kid, she realized she was wrong and the system was far more flawed than she realized.

- Angel was a an overlord under his father for the first few years he was in hell (leaving after he realized that he didn’t need to pretend he wasn’t gay anymore)

- Every so often Charlie locks her self away to cry about the idea of losing all here friends

- Alastor has a very strict moral code when it comes to who he kills. He only kills those who take advantage or abuse of others. Which is why he didn’t kill Husk when he could’ve.

- Nifty and Alastor would tag team Valentino so hard

- Part of the reason Vaggie didn’t put together that Angelic weapons could harm angels is because she thought she had already fallen before her eye was cut out. She thought the mere thought of questioning the system made her fall.

- Valentino has a major superiority complex, so he thinks he’s the one in charge of the Vees when in reality he’s the last person to be consulted on big decisions.

- Vox was a small local news reporter with dreams of going national. Unfortunately that never happened as he was killed by a falling set piece on live, making him more famous in his death than in his life.

- Sir Pentious had two sons when he was alive. One lived well into adulthood, the other died when he was barely a teen from typhoid or some other old timey disease. It’d be the same disease the Pent ends up dying from. Though not before he starts obsessing over how to cure it, his other son continues his work and ends up discovering the vaccine for it.

- Pentious was a snake’s oil salesman for most of his life.

- Nifty had a lobotomy in life

- If others hadn’t been there, the val and charlie would’ve ended much differently(she was ready to kill him before angie stopped her)

- Charlie has tried to cut her hair short(like pixie) multiple times but whenever she loses control of her powers it just grows back, the only loophole for some reason being and undercut or side cut. as long as the hair on the crown of her head is long it’s fine.

- Alastor’s mom was a teen mom; my brain says 13 or 14. Her parents kicked her out after they found out she was pregnant forcing her to become fully dependent on her (now) husband. They had a shotgun wedding and a really tumultuous marriage. His dad left them both when he was 5 or 6. He also isn’t an only child though i’m not sure if he has a younger sibling or older. probably younger.

- Husk’s actual name is Jack, it’s part of his deal with Alastor that his old name was sold to Alastor. Him and anyone who knew him as Jack have completely forgotten it, they know his past but think he’s always been Husk. I’d like to think if he or anyone else rediscovers his name the deal would broken, kind rumplstisken vibes.

- Quite a lot of the sinners had kids in life, most of them assume that their kids ended up in heaven.

- Sir Pentious’ sons did end up in heaven and recognized him instantly and was elated to see his dad after so long.

#hazbin hotel husk #controversial hazbin hotel takes #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vox #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin niffty #hazbin sir pentious

[fickkkin]

idk man. i should be humble and whatnot but i have to defend myself

#strrambles #ok first we can all agree i had noble intentions yeah? #right then. did i do plenty things wrong? well no #my only mistakes i argue were pushing my responsibility onto jakob #and letting narzissenkreuz take over #first of all carter was fully justified. he was in full agreement. we had appropriate intentions. #and i regret it? mm maybe. without him we couldnt have continued our research. #(and here i must say people look back on these actions with a lens from the present. they judge us because they know the archon would #save the day. but we didnt know that.) #the foundation of the ordo was once again justified. we were open with our ideas #we showed them the revelations. which were accurate at that time #and offered a utilitarian method that would allow us to preserve everyone #we were open with the idea #and they joined. #we knew only how to dissolve and merge #and were aiming for a solution after the mass dissolutions #which im sure we could have achieved and as a result reseparated post disaster #though i guess i cant speak of what ifs here #but look those were the intentions and none were: hey lets live in a hivemind forever! #that being said #my major mistake was dissolving myself #i know ascension in that way requires you to strip all psyche and ego and the freud shit #but i overlooked just how unethical narzissenkreuz would be without those things #and arghghgg. i dont know man. though narz isnt me because i die with my psyche #i have an obligation over my creation #and he — or they — messed things up badly. #and yeah by that dissolution i also indirectly caused my own brother to take such a dark route #the lengths he went to just to revive me was. frankly very cool of him. in my lens. but also terrible for himself and terrible for everyone #else. like if id just held off on that dissolving part and let myself figure things out for a bit longer #if my dissolution even WORKED in the first place

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while). Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?). Word count: 2.2k+

Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included. 

The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost. 

The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger. 

You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence. 

You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely. 

It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?

Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life. 

One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–” 

“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.” 

Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?” 

You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.

 “What are you trying to say?” You ask. 

“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."

Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?” 

Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.” 

Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did. 

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.” 

You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”

“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek. 

You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him. 

“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”

“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?” 

Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder. 

It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside. 

As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in. 

“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?” 

“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"

You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.

“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses. 

“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.

“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says. 

“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!” 

Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just…just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.” 

Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings. 

As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?

Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.

Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time. 

Chapter II [x]

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel

[salaciousdoll]

· · Just in: Gojo Satoru just found out he’s a chubby chaser like the rest · ·

･˳ . ⋆ Reporting From Gojo Satoru x Chubby!Fem!reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : Smut, Dirty talking, pwp, fluids( squirting, cum on body and inside), creampie, heavy body worship, Gojo calling you a cry baby and chubby bunny, words of affirmation, pet names ( such as doll, Angel, etc.), missionary position, stretch marks mentioned, reader is shoko’s nurse assistant( guess you could say it’s the original verse/ au in a way idk), please enjoy yourself. Wc: 800

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from Maydayaisha: This is for my chubby girls who doesn’t feel like their fave or anyone would love them. I wrote this with myself and other chubby/plus size babes. Love you all so much and just know I’m here for you all. Anyways, love you and enjoy my first time Drabble I decided to do! Also please note I did this in 45 minutes so it’s not gonna be perfect at all. <33

“ Give it to me, baby doll.”, Satoru moans into your ear as he presses your body underneath his. The cushion of your body was something he needed to drown in. He couldn’t get you off his mind the moment he saw you working alongside Shoko as her nurse assistant.

Your eyes were shut tightly as your dried-up glitter lip gloss lips opened in a big O. You couldn’t take him and he knew you couldn’t because of the whispery moans falling from your pretty lips. “ Cat got your tongue, Angel. Too much f’ya.” Gojo rose up off your body— watching you shake from how deep he was inside of you. He chuckled whilst rubbing your clit— your legs were about to close but his hand stopped it, “ Ah ah Ah, no, keep them just like they are, pretty. Shit! You’re fucking squeezing me.”

“ Sato-Ahh~ I can’t— I can’t please pull out for a minute. Lemme - ugh! Mmm.”, Your moans were a ballad to him, a beautiful ballad. Gojo leaned down to kiss your bruised, puffy lips as he slowed down his strokes. Only then long stroking inside of your sloppy cunt. His cum was already painted over your pussy and he still had the energy to keep going. It was so painfully good because you two have been at this for about— shit who are you kidding you lost track.

Gojo knew he was digging inside of your stomach because of your juices traveling down his big cock, “ fucking pussy is eating on my dick. You’re that eager to take me in your stomach, Yeah? Don’t leave me hanging here love, Answer me.” You were speechless and couldn’t even talk— especially when he rolled his hips in a perfect circle, pausing to fuck his dick inside of you with the speed you never knew he had.

Tears danced in your pretty eyes, eventually dancing down your big apple cheeks causing Gojo to lick them off as he snapped his hips into yours. Your body vibrations were the topping to his cake. “ Got your breath took away, huh? Didn’t answer me-mmm- but you’re still so pretty for me, perfect pussy taking me deep.” Gojo slapped your pussy with his clean, pretty hands. “ You’re crying too? Such a big baby while taking my cock. Come on, just a little more for me, cherry pie.”

Gojo rose up again, smiling at you, “ No matter what anyone says, you’re beautiful, fucking gorgeous to me, especially when you’re taking my cock inside of that warm pussy of yours. Gotta say, Angel, you’re holding on so well.” His words of affirmation did nothing but make you squirt on his dick like a fire hydrant on a hot sunny day. “Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Gojo was chanting the words like the crowd chanting for their teams on a game night, only whispering it against your face when he bent down again. His moans were getting louder as he braced himself to cum anywhere in or on your body.

Soon Gojo’s long, slender fingers intertwined with your chubby fingers as his white hair clouded his vision from seeing you squirm and come undone underneath him. He stopped fucking you with a loud and long groan, pulling out of you when some of his cum got inside of you. He wanted some of his fluid inside of you and on top of your chubby body. Your pretty tummy with stretch marks was now being drowned with his white , thick cum. Gojo’s body was shaking drastically as he stroked his cock above you, “ Fuck, Shit! So so good. My chubby bunny. Such a good- mmmgh!- little slut. My good little slut.”

He stopped stroking his thick, pretty cock once all of his cum came out of his body and onto yours. Yours and his chest was rising and falling harshly. His red flushed face was an art you admired even through diamond like a vision from your pretty teary eyes. Gojo chuckled— watching you try to get your vision back by whipping your eyes. His big, rough hands grabbed your wrist, you should’ve known from his little smirk on his face, he’ll say the one thing you hated being called during sex, "My little crybaby as well.”

Gojo was now just staring at your body with his blue Crystal like eyes. He studied the different areas your stretch marks appeared at. He licked his lips at your body rising and falling slowly now. Your cute double chin was so admirable to him. He was in love with you. Maybe even obsessed. He fucking adored your chubby body. If this is what it means to be a chubby chaser then he’s at the top of the list. Maybe even in the VIP section with Geto, Toji, and Nanami.

Tagging: @shunsuist @happygoluckyalexis @honeybleed ( my baby I am so sorry for not tagging you when I put this out, forgive me) @mastermindenoshimaalicia @cybercandy1 @simpingfor-wakasa @angelshub and anyone else who wants to be tagged in drabbles

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #x black reader #black reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x chubby reader #anime smut #anime x chubby reader #anime men x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #satoru gojō x reader #angelshubnetwork

[ladadiida]

𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.

#opla #opla x reader #opla x y/n #one piece #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece sanji #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji live action #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #opla sanji x reader #angst #one piece sanji x reader #ਏਓ ladadiida

[vixzwrites]

slytherin boys: pet names for you

authors note: heavily inspired by them slytherin boys react tiktoks i keep seeing everywhere. readers gender isnt specified.

possible tw: over working yourself (idk), mention of weed/being stoned, bullying possibly if you squint, drinking

Draco Malfoy;

- darling

- i feel like he'd use it in a slightly mocking tone before you guys became offical but after it would the most common pet name he used

"you should leave harry and his friends alone!" Draco wasnt known as the nicest boy in hogwarts, which didnt suprise you after seeing his relentless behaviour to the so called 'chosen one'. "oh yeah, darling?" he quipped back. God he was insufferable.

"darling? you here?" Your boyfriend had just got back from quidditch practice. You could tell he was exhausted the way he stumbled into his dorm already taking his uniform off and slumping it into the washing basket. He worked really hard but you knew best how he could over work himself. When he saw you his face softened. You outstretched your arms allowing him to enter them. "i'm going to take a shower first." At least he was taking care of himself.

Mattheo Riddle;

- bro is such a princess/prince man

- it obviously comes with the princess/prince treatment ig

- similiar to Draco he would tease you with it before dating but after seeing you blush and stutter, why would he ever stop using it?

You had came late to Snape's lesson, which was your first mistake; struggling to find your seat was the second. "sir, there aren't any seats left." Snape glared over at you clearly bothered by your disruption. "well miss/mr (l/n) if you had not arrived late to my lesson, there may have been a seat left for you." and with that he resumed his original task. "there's a seat next to me, princess/prince." Turning your head to meet the one and only Dark Lord's son, only to see him nodding towards the empty seat next to him and his fave plastered with a big smirk. "o-oh, erm... thank you" Did he just call you princess/prince?

It was if your own knees had betrayed you giving out underneath you and causing you to collapse onto the common room couch. You were exhausted all the exams and revision had really taking it out of you, not to mention quidditch practice in the early hours of the morning. "Hey, Princess/Prince." The sound of his voice was comforting and caused you to snuggle into his side. "You okay?" before Mattheo could get a reply, you had already drifted off.

Theodore Nott;

- angel (i couldnt decide between theo and enzo)

- he wouldn't use this to tease you at all he would use it more when he's feeling soft lol

Someone's arms sneak around your waist and pull you close to their chest. Startled, you spin on your heels ready to bitch slap this boy into next week. When you're met with the handsome face of your boyfriend, that idea goes out the window. He pulls you furthur into him and rests his head in your neck. "Hello, Angel. Have you missed me?" You whine causing Theo to chuckle into your neck.

Lorenzo Berkshire;

- sweetheart

- enzo is just a soft boy being raised by women he knows how to treat them right too

The night of the yule ball was finally happening. Lorenzo had made it his mission to get you as his date and when it had finally happened, it was safe to say the boy couldnt be happier. He was on his way to collect you from your dorm. Knocking on the door, he could hear you on the other side before the door opened revealing you in your ball attire. "wow you look- you look amazing. No not amazing, you look stunning, sweetheart." You giggled at his antics. "give me a spin?" You spun showing off the outfit, pansy had helped you chose.

Blaise Zabini;

- babe

- i feel like blaise is very whiny lol and he would definitely drag out the 'e' on babe espeacially when hes stoned (i need to write a fic aboutstoned blaise hes stuck in my head)

Common room parties were common, if you excuse the pun. You had been to many through out your years in slytherin and enjoyed the laughter and fun you had. Right now though , your in need of another drink. Your boyfriend had other plans though and was determind to keep you by his side. He smelt strong of weed and alcohol, he wasn't doing much to cover up the fact he was most definately drunk and stoned. Wriggling out of his grasp, you get up to find another drink. "babeeeee! where you goin?" His words were slurred and his senstences were missing words. He will just have to deal with out you for 2 minutes, you were sure he could manage that.

Tom Riddle;

- lets be honest he'd definitely call you something degrading in and out of the bedroom

- but since we're all delulu he calls you my love

- its a rare occasion as he isn't big on pet names but he does use them

"what are you doing?" Startled by the sudden stern voice, you jump. "i was just seeing if you had a spare tie i could borrow?" You felt shy under his eyes. "oh my love, i didnt mean to scare you." He reached a hand out to you so you could take it and lead you over to his bedside draw. He pulled a tie out for you. "now lets see of i can make it up to you for scaring you."

(sorry that its so short idrk how to write for tom without making him look like a complete dick)

idk if i did this correctly but im pretty sure you can request now and id love to hear other peoples ideas. you can request anything (smut, fluff, angst, comfort etc.) for a drabble headcannon, fic etc. so pls doooo.

#slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle headcanon #theodore nott headcannon #draco malfoy headcanon #lorenzo berkshire headcannon #tom riddle headcanon #blaise zabini headcannon #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader #draco malfoy x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #tom riddle x reader #blaise zabini x reader #vixzwrites