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lostfracturess · 4 months

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symptoms and causes | ch. 06

ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader

ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

ღ wc 7.4 k

ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood / abuse, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

ღ author's note dive in and let me know what you think—i love hearing your thoughts! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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You woke up in Satoru's bed, the soft sheets still carrying his scent. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting dappled patterns of shadows on the floor. As you stirred, your head pounded with a heavy, throbbing ache. Fragments of last night's events swam hazily in your mind.

The clock on the bedside table read noon.

You sat up and looked over your shoulder. The sheets on the other side were crumpled. Satoru must had slept beside you. But now, his side was empty, the room silent except for the distant sounds of the city life outside the windows.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and paused briefly, hoping the throbbing in your head would ease. You could barely remember anything from last night. But you sure remembered one thing — the marks on your thighs unmistakable remnants of Satoru.

You threw on one of Satoru's loose white shirts and made your way out of the bedroom. The living space was neat, the remnants of last night's chaos nowhere in sight. Your eyes were drawn to the kitchen where Satoru stood, his back to you.

He was busy at the counter, seemingly preparing something. The morning light streaming through the window illuminated his figure, highlighting the numerous red scratches scattered across his bare back — unmistakable remnants of you.

You paused, watching him for a moment.

"I didn't know you were a calvin klein man," you remarked, eyeing the hem of his boxer shorts peeking out from his low-hanging sweatpants.

Satoru turned, his eyes met yours, a sly grin forming on his lips. "Where are you staring at?"

You walked closer. "Where your pants at?"

As you reached the table, you let yourself sink into a chair. A glass of water and an array of pills were neatly arranged in front of you.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck," you said, rubbing your temples.

"Take these," he gestured toward the pills. "They'll help. And I'll make you some coffee. Caffeine should do some good."

You eyed the pills, suppressing a sudden feeling of nausea. You reached for the glass of water and downed the pills.

Satoru moved around the kitchen preparing the coffee. You watched, momentarily lost in the captivating display of his back muscles, shifting and flexing with each movement. His hair was slightly tousled, his forearms flexed, revealing defined muscles and veins.

He turned to you with two steaming mugs of coffee, the rich aroma filling the kitchen. "Here," he said, handing you a mug. "This should help clear your head."

You accepted it with a faint smile, the warmth of the mug seeping into your hands. Satoru fumbled in his sweatpants pocket and pulled out a small flashlight. "Let me just check something real quick."

He turned on the light and flickered it in front of your eyes. You blinked, startled by the sudden brightness. "Satoru, I'm okay."

He ignored your protest, carefully checking your pupils before turning off the light. He gently cupped your chin, turning your head first to one side, then to the other, observing your eyes closely. "Any dizziness when I do this?"

"No."

He then placed his hand against your forehead. "You don't have a fever, do you?"

"No," you said as his hand already moved from your forehead to under your jaw, his fingers checking your lymph nodes.

"You want a saline drip?"

"What? No."

Satoru met your gaze, his fingers still working gently around your neck. "Works wonders sometimes."

"Why would you even have that at home?"

His lips formed a thin line.

Yeah. You shouldn't wonder why a man constantly carrying a scalpel with him has a saline drip at home. It was just Satoru being Satoru — always a doctor.

"I'm fine, Satoru, really." You tried to push his hand away, but he already grasped your wrist, extending your arm to feel your pulse. His touch was tender as he cradled your wrist with one hand while he glanced at his watch, timing the beats.

After a moment, he released your wrist. "Good," he said, sounding relieved.

"Did I pass your check-up?"

Satoru smiled as he pulled back. "You did."

He leaned against the counter opposite you. You took a sip of the coffee, the bitterness sharp against your tongue. "You've got some scratches on your back."

"Yeah, I thought so. Got quite a few stares during my run earlier."

You nearly choked on your coffee. "You went out running like that?"

"Looks like they are a bit more obvious than I thought." Satoru glanced over his shoulder at the scratches. "They definitely caught some attention."

"Why didn't you wear a shirt?"

"It's hot outside."

"Oh my god," you muttered, rubbing your temple.

Satoru chuckled. "Next time, maybe go a little easier on me."

Next time?

"So," he started, "how much do you remember about last night?"

You pondered for a moment, the events of the evening coming back in fragments. "Bits and pieces. But it's all a quite blurry. I don't remember much from the club. But I remember everything clearly after we got here, if that's what you're asking for."

He didn't repost to that. He only watched you. "I got the results from your blood test this morning."

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his jaw tensing. "That guy at the club, he tried to drug you with tramadol. Thankfully, it wasn't a high dose. But whoever he is, he's likely from the medical faculty. It's not something someone could easily get their hands on. I've already reported it to the university."

"Tramadol?" you murmured, trying to process the information. "An opioid? That's an odd choice."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's what you find intriguing?"

"No, that came out wrong." You shook your head. "I can't believe someone from our faculty would do something like that."

"I'm just relieved that you're safe. The mere thought of you being in danger..." He trailed off, his hands clenching into fists.

Suddenly, his body shook. He turned away, gripping the counter tightly, his knuckles whitening with the strain. "If I ever get my hands on that guy—"

The room fell silent.

Maybe it wasn't the best time, but you couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Satoru," you began cautiously, "about what I said yesterday...I meant it. You have to get clean."

He paused. "We can talk about that some other time. You've been through enough already."

"But Satoru—"

"Not now," he cut you off.

He pushed off the counter and started to move around the kitchen, busying himself with cleaning up. He was obviously avoiding the conversation.

"We can't just keep avoiding this."

He continued his task, his back to you. "I know," he said quietly, "but now's not the time. Let's focus on getting you back on your feet first."

"God, Satoru, you're so selfish!"

At this, Satoru turned around. "Selfish? You're the one who's always running away. You left me last night, after I told you what I feel for you."

His tone grew sharper, his words laced with pain. "I had no idea what you were doing, where you were, whether you were safe and it killed me. Every damn second I didn't know what was going on killed me."

His accusation struck a nerve. "What was I supposed to do? Just ignore everything you've done and act as if everything is fine?"

"Did seem to me like that last night, as you begged me to fuck you so hard, that you would forget everything," he shot back, "but I did, even though it felt wrong, because you said you needed it. So don't tell me I'm selfish, when I'd do anything for you."

"Don't go there, Satoru," you warned, feeling a surge of anger. "You have no right to judge how I handle my feelings."

"Like getting drunk and flirting with the first guy who looks your way?"

"That's not fair."

"I've told you how much I want you, how much I crave being with you. Still you go around, like what I said meant nothing."

"Because it means nothing, Satoru!" you shot back, your voice rising. "You say you want me, but your actions tell a different story! If you really meant what you said, you would have told me about your addiction. You would be fighting it. Otherwise, your words mean nothing."

Your blood began to boil. You stood up, pushing the chair back with a loud scrape. Your heart pounded in your chest. "Sweet words aren't enough, Satoru. You have to show me that I mean something to you. Show me that you want me!"

"And I thought I had already shown how bad I want you," he replied.

"Not by fucking me, damn it. Show me by fighting your addiction."

"My addiction has nothing to do with my feelings for you."

"But with mine, Satoru! Your addiction is affecting my feelings. And you're hurting me!"

He paused. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want the truth," you gasped, breathing heavily. "Stop lying to me."

There was a long silence.

He said nothing.

You turned away, frustration boiling over.

You left the kitchen and stormed through the living room. That's when your eyes landed on a chessboard set up on a small table. For a moment, you stood there, staring at it, an idea forming in your mind.

You grabbed the chessboard and returned to the kitchen. Satoru watched, a puzzled expression on his face, as you set the board on the table between you.

"Let's settle this," you declared. "Sixteen pieces. Sixteen questions. We tell the truth every time we lose a piece."

Satoru raised an eyebrow. "You're going to play by the same rules?"

"Yes."

He pondered for a moment, watching you. "Just so you know, I'm pretty good at chess."

You met his gaze squarely. "Then the game should be interesting."

You sat down at the table and arranged the chess pieces on the board. Once done, you moved it to the center of the table and looked up at him. "Begin."

Satoru pushed off the counter and sat down opposite you. His shirtless chest now on full display as he rested his arm on the back of the chair next to him. He pondered for a moment and then made his move.

You recognized the strategy immediately. "Hm, the King's Pawn opening," you commented. "Planning to take control of the center early, I see."

Satoru met your gaze. "You know I never hold back."

"I've noticed." You countered with your pawn to c5, setting up the Sicilian Defense.

He gave a playful smirk. "Playing defensively. I expected a more direct attack from you."

"Just wait," you warned. "You'll see what's coming."

Satoru developed his knight to f3, and you solidified your position with d6.

The stage was set for a strategic play.

Satoru thought for a moment. Then he moved his pawn to d4, challenging your setup.

[Piece captured: Satoru's pawn captures your pawn on d4.]

"Your first question," you prompted, looking up at him.

He watched you for a moment before he spoke. "Do you regret sleeping with me last night?"

Huh?

That's what he wants to know?

You bit your lower lip, considering. His piercing blue eyes awaited your response. "No," you said, then moved on the board, capturing his pawn on d4 with your d6 pawn.

Too easy, he was smarter than that — he gave you that.

[Piece captured: You capture Satoru's d4 pawn with your d6 pawn.]

Satoru shifted slightly in his chair, absorbing your move. "Now, your first question."

You watched him for a moment before speaking. "Do you even want to get clean?"

He hesitated.

"No lies," you remained him.

He clenched his teeth. "I could. If that's what you want."

"That not my question. I asked if you want to."

You could see the muscles in his every being tense as you waited for him to answer. After a long pause, he finally answered, "No."

Your heart sank as you looked into his blue eyes — suddenly so unfamiliar.

At least now, both of you knew where you stood.

The board was set for the next phase of the game.

You developed your knight to f6, targeting his e4 pawn. In response, Satoru's knight moved to c3, supporting his pawn structure. Satoru's bishop then moved to e3, and you responded by advancing your bishop to g7.

Satoru then positioned his bishop on e3. You responded strategically, moving your bishop to g7, placing it on the long diagonal.

Satoru leaned forward, rubbing his lower lip with his hand as he considered his next move. Playing f3, Satoru hinted at a kingside attack. You castled to safeguard your king. Satoru moved his queen to d2, setting the stage for a potential offensive.

You huffed. You moved your other knight to c6, increasing the pressure on the board.

[Piece captured: You capture Satoru's d4 knight with your c6 knight.]

With the knight taken, you looked up at him. "When did it start, your addiction?"

"I'm sure Suguru must have told you."

"I want to hear it from you."

Running a hand through his hair, he leaned back in his chair.

"It started during my undergrad years. Methylphenidate was the first. It helped me focus, gave me that extra edge for exams. It was harmless."

"Then, at a party, someone offered me sedatives. It was different. It helped me calm down in a way cannabis could not. It made me forget the stress for a while. But it wasn't just sedatives. There were nights with ecstasy. Cocaine too."

He paused, as if reliving those moments. "You know, I was always at the top of my class. Always pushing myself as expected from me. But somewhere down that line, I became dependent on tranquilizers just to cope with university stress, to keep my mind sane."

He didn't break eye contact for a second. His piercing blue eyes absorbed every slight change in your expression.

"During my master's program I moved on to stronger stuff. Codeine at first, then oxycodone. By the time I was working on my dissertation I was given my own lab, leading my own research, publishing papers and taking daily morphine just to function. On really bad days, hydromorphone."

You took a shaky inhale, feeling a heavy weight on your chest. You dropped your head into your hands, your fingers tightly gripping your hair. "God, Satoru. Was there anything you didn't try?"

"I'm not experimenting anymore. I've found my routine. I have it under control. At least until you came into my life."

You raised your head to meet his gaze. "What—What routine?"

You shook your head. My God, he was speaking about his drug use as if it was as normal as taking a daily vitamin.

"You talk about it like it's nothing. Satoru, you're really deep into your addiction. You have a real problem."

"Does that scare you?" he asked.

If his addiction scares you? What a stupid question.

It didn't scare you.

It made you furious.

"Not your turn for questions," you retorted sharply.

Satoru's expression hardened. He leaned forward, making a swift move on the board, capturing your knight with his pawn.

[Piece captured: Satoru takes your c6 knight with his b7 pawn.]

"Does my addiction scare you?"he repeated his question.

"No," you replied sharply. "But is that all you worry about? Whether I'm scared of your addiction? Are you afraid that I see you as a bad person? Is that why you lied to me all the time?"

"It's not your turn for questions," he reminded you.

You frustration boiled over. You moved your queen to a5, putting pressure on key pieces in his defense.

"Getting aggressive, aren't we?" Satoru commented, observing your play.

You didn't respond.

Satoru moved his rook to d3. You doubled your rooks on the b-file, intensifying the pressure on Satoru's queenside. Undeterred, Satoru advanced his pawn to g5, aiming to disrupt your kingside pawn structure.

The move was bold. He wasn't going to back down easily.

What a bitch.

You maneuvered your knight to h5, targeting the advanced pawn and readying for an attack. Satoru's queen moved to h4, aligning with your king and adding tension to the board.

You shifted your rook to b4, setting up a potential attack on Satoru's queen. Satoru responded by placing his rook on b1, defending against your aggressive rooks.

Moving your queen to c5, you aimed at the weakened pawn structure around Satoru's king. Satoru repositioned his rook to b3, attempting to neutralize your threats.

You lined up both rooks on the b-file, preparing for a decisive strike. Satoru retreated his rook to d1, bracing for your impending attack.

Stupid mistake.

[Piece captured: You capture Satoru's f3 knight with your g7 bishop.]

"What is it that you're so afraid of that you've been lying to me all this time? That I will spill your secret?"

He paused before replying, "Losing you."

"Liar," you retorted.

"There are no lies in this game," Satoru countered, capturing your bishop on g7 with his queen. "You set the rules yourself."

[Piece captured: Satoru takes your g7 bishop with his queen.]

"How do you really feel about me?"

The question took you aback. You paused, raising a hand to your mouth and biting on your fingernails. Satoru watched you, waiting for your response.

"I don't know."

"That's not an answer," he prodded.

"What do you want me to say? That I want you? Yes, Satoru, I want you. But I also hate you. I hate you for lying to me. And I hate you for what you've put me through."

"That's why you flirted with that guy last night? To get back at me?"

"Not your turn for questions."

You advanced your queen deep into his territory, directly challenging his king. Satoru moved his queen to c4, a defensive play against your aggressive approach. Your knight leaped to f4, adding pressure and threatening a checkmate pattern.

In response, Satoru maneuvered his rook to c1, attempting to fortify his defenses against your aggressive moves. Seizing the opportunity, you captured Satoru's pawn on e2 with your queen, threatening his king directly.

[Piece captured: You capture Satoru's e2 pawn with your queen.]

"What substance are you currently on?" you asked, your gaze fixed on the board.

"I'm on a regular dose of hydromorphone, sometimes alprazolam."

"How much?" you pressed.

"Just one question—"

"How much, Satoru?"

"Hydromorphone, six milligrams every few hours. Alprazolam, two milligrams but that's only—"

You met his gaze. "Only what? If the sun doesn't shine?"

"Only when I'm around you."

Your grip on the chess piece grew tighter. "What's that supposed to mean? You need tranquilizers just to be around me?"

He didn't respond, his silence speaking volumes.

You felt like you're about to throw up.

You looked away and moved your knight to f4, escalating the attack and setting up a potential checkmate. "How can you even function like that? That dosage would hospitalize most people."

Satoru's response was prompt, his queen moved to f2, attempting to trade pieces and reduce the pressure. "I've developed a high tolerance."

Without a second thought, you captured his queen with your rook.

[Piece captured: You capture Satoru's queen with your f2 rook.]

With Satoru's queen removed from the board, you pressed on. "Who else knows about your addiction? Besides me and Geto?"

"No one. Just the two of you."

Satoru then recaptured your rook on f2 with his rook on d1.

[Piece captured: Satoru's d1 rook captures your f2 rook.]

"Why did you flirt with that guy last night?" Satoru asked.

"I didn't flirt with him. He just happened to be there. That's all."

You then realigned your remaining rook to b8, positioning it on the open file directly opposing Satoru's king.

Satoru hesitated, his hand hovering over the board. "Did you think of me, while you were with him?" He suddenly asked. His voice softer now.

Huh?

You paused and looked up from the chessboard to meet his gaze. His usually sharp, piercing eyes now held a hollowness, as if they were clouded. His brows drawn together as if in pain.

Your response was soft, almost inaudible. "Yes."

Satoru held your gaze you for a moment, before moving his other rook to f1, trying to fortify his king's position. You advanced your rook to c8, putting it directly opposite Satoru's king, signaling your preparation for the final attack.

He moved his king to b1, seeking a safer position, but the options were dwindling. You maneuvered your rook to c4 in preparation for an attack. Satoru's rook moved to f3 to create a potential counterplay.

You moved your rook to a4, pinning one of Satoru's rooks and setting up a lethal threat. Satoru's rook moved to b3, trying to defend against your imminent attack.

Your knight leaped to e2 cutting off the escape routes for Satoru's king. Satoru's rook moved to b2, the last line of defense, trying to hold off your attack.

You played your knight to c3, putting Satoru's king in check.

[Check]

Satoru's king retreated to a1, the only available square. Your rook slid to a3, cutting off the king's escape and setting up the final play.

Satoru leaned forward, his fingers rubbing over his lower lip as as he took a moment to assess the board. "Well played," he said as he made his last move.

You moved your rook to a2, delivering a checkmate. Satoru's king was trapped, with no squares left for escape.

[Checkmate]

Satoru looked up from the chessboard, his eyes searching yours. "What's your final question?"

"Will you try to get clean if I asked you to? I mean really try."

A moment of silence passed as he contemplated your question.

"Yes."

You bit down on your lower lip, still boiling inside.

You stood up. Leaning forward, you placed your hands firmly on the table, fixing Satoru with a steely gaze.

"Here's how this is going to work from now on," you began. "You'll reduce your hydromorphone dose gradually, only five milligrams every four hours from now on. Then, you'll cut it down to four milligrams for the next two weeks until you're completely off."

Satoru absorbed your words, his jaw clenching.

"You'll stop the alprazolam immediately. No more strong tranquilizers."

"Wait—" Satoru began, but you cut him off.

"Don't you dare say anything now, Satoru. Shut it."

Satoru pressed his lips together.

"You'll take clonidine to help with the withdrawal symptoms. But only low doses. Got me?"

Satoru inhaled sharply. "That's a tough plan you're laying out. I'll be in heavy withdrawal. You know that, right?"

"I don't care," you snapped. "You'll fight through it. And if you feel like you can't take it anymore you'll call me, if you feel like you need to take a pill you talk to me, if you feel like dying you'll come to me, got me?"

"Seems like we'll be spending a lot of time together then."

"I want you clean by the end of the summer break, Satoru. If not, I'll report you to the director."

He leaned back in his chair. "Didn't know you could be so fierce, first-year."

"Save your breath. I'm dead serious about this."

"So am I."

"Then we're clear?"

His lips curled into a boyish smile. "I'll do anything you asked of me, sweetheart. I'm all yours."

You felt a slight release of tension, your shoulders easing down a bit.

"But I want something from you in return," he added.

"That I don't break your neck should be enough."

Ignoring your remark, Satoru stood up and leaned across the small table towards you. His posture was imposing, his broad shoulders now more pronounced as he closed the gap between you. His face only mere inches from yours.

"I need you to help me in the OR over the summer."

"I'll not do that surgery again," you said.

"Not the implanting of the transplant, I'll do that. I want you to assist me. On every single surgery, the whole summer. We'll work on perfecting the procedure until it's ready for publication."

You frowned slightly. "Satoru, I need to study. Did you forget I'm still a student? I can't spend every waking moment in the OR with you."

He inched even closer, his breath warm against your lips. "Then I'll help you with your studies," he offered, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're a first-year; the material is not that hard."

Ouch.

"Do we have a deal?"

After a moment of consideration, you nodded. "Deal."

As Satoru's gaze lingered on your lips, you added softly, "Oh, and Satoru?"

"Hm?" He leaned in closer, expecting something.

"No sex until you're clean."

"What?" His eyes widened slightly as he pulled back, searching your face for signs of jest.

"You really think you get rewarded for this?"

Satoru gave a half-smirk, half-grimace. "You know, I tend to function better when I'm... satisfied."

"Well then, I'm sure your right hand will have a busy summer," you said, pushing yourself away from the table.

─── ·✧· ───

A week has passed since that day.

Satoru was deep in thought, staring at research data on his notebook, when the door to his office flew open. Geto stormed in, a newspaper clenched in his hand, and slammed it down on Satoru's desk with a force that made the pens rattle.

The headline screamed "charming surgeon couple sets new medical standard", accompanied by a picture of Satoru and you in surgical gear.

Geto's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Have you lost your mind, Satoru?" he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

Satoru looked up. "What are you talking about?"

"This!" Geto clenched the newspaper in his hand, his forced smile fading. "This article. It's basically a public statement that you're having an affair. You're on dangerous ground."

Satoru stood up, casually walking over to his bookshelf as if the conversation were of no importance. He pulled out a book, flipping through it. "It's just an article, Suguru. They needed a story, we gave them one. It's good publicity for the hospital."

Geto's hands balled into fists at his sides. "It's not just an article, it's a spotlight on something that shouldn't even be happening. You're her mentor, for god's sake."

Satoru, still perusing the book, shrugged. "You're overreacting. She's done groundbreaking work, she deserves recognition. The article doesn't imply anything else."

"Don't play dumb with me. I know you better than that," Geto retorted, his voice rising. "You're a ticking time bomb, Satoru. And when you fall, she'll be dragged down with you, you know that."

Satoru closed the book and finally faced Geto. "My personal issues are under control."

"Under control?" Geto sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You think popping pills and then playing the charming surgeon in the OR is under control? You're risking not only your career, but hers as well!"

Satoru's expression hardened. "I'm handling it, Geto. She's not in any danger from me."

Geto stepped closer, his frustration palpable. "You're not thinking straight. She's just starting her career. What happens when she gets caught in the crossfire of your mess? Have you even thought for a second about the consequences?"

He replaced the book on the shelf and faced Geto squarely. "Your concern is noted. But I assure you, she's safe with me."

"And that at the conference? What about that?"

"It was a mistake, I know."

"Mistake? God, Satoru, you should be grateful that everyone was so drunk that night that they barely noticed that you were locked in with a student for a few minutes and came back with your pants still open. What were you thinking?"

Satoru's composure faltered, a hint of frustration seeping into his voice. "I know! But—but she was hurt, Suguru—hurt about what happened at the club and—and she was confused, and then said, 'use me'," Satoru waved his hands helplessly to make his point somehow clear, "—that's when I lost it."

Geto's eyes narrowed. "Wait, what? After what happened at the club? You fucked her twice?"

Ouh.

Before Satoru could respond, Geto lunged forward, grabbing him by the collar and pushing him back against the bookshelf. Books tumbled down as Satoru hit the shelf, the sound echoing in the room.

"You're not just playing with fire, Satoru. You're diving headfirst into it!" Geto hissed, his face inches from Satoru's. "And you're dragging her down with you. She's a student, Satoru. A student under your guidance!"

Satoru grasped Geto's wrists, trying to pry them off. "I know, Suguru, I know. But I know what she means to me. And I swear, I won't let my problems affect her."

"You better be right. Because if things go south, it's not just you who'll pay the price." Geto exclaimed, his grip tightening on Satoru's shirt.

"I know, but—," Satoru gasped under the strain. "I'm trying to get clean. I've promised her."

Geto released him, stepping back. "Get clean? Satoru, you've been addicted for over a decade."

Straightening up, Satoru rubbed his neck where the fabric had constricted, his breath uneven. "Wow, you have so much hope for me. I'm flattered."

Geto's gaze bore into Satoru, skepticism etched in every line of his face. "It's not like you haven't tried before."

Satoru let himself slide down along the bookshelf, slumping against it on the ground. He glanced at the disarray around him, running a hand through his hair. "I know. But this time, it's different. I'm doing it for her."

"I have a plan," Satoru added. "Reducing dosages, substituting meds, the whole thing. She's got a whole schedule. A tough one, I may add."

Geto crossed his arms. "What schedule?"

"I'm down to only five milligrams hydromorphone every four hours now, and then it'll be even less over the next two weeks. She's also completely taken me off tranquillizers."

Geto visibly winced. "That's tough."

Satoru nodded, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, it is."

"But weren't you on ten milligrams lately?" Geto asked.

Satoru looked up, offering a weak, somewhat strained smile. "Yeah, but let's keep that between us, Suguru."

"You're stupid. You've halved your dosage practically overnight. You can't go through with that. How can you even function at all right now?"

"Barely, but I'm trying."

"And you think that's going to work? Just because she's involved?"

"It has to. I don't want to lose her."

Geto raised an eyebrow. "What did she do to you?"

Satoru paused for a moment, his gaze distant. "I don't know... maybe she's the one."

Geto sighed. He held out his hand to Satoru. "How about we grab something to eat?"

─── ·✧· ───

The warm sunlight greeted Geto and Satoru as they stepped outside. The air was alive with the chirping of birds and the distant hum of students enjoying their last week before summer break.

The lush greenery surrounding the cafeteria's outdoor seating area swayed gently in the mild breeze. It was a popular spot, especially on such a beautiful day. Professors and students mingled, their conversations punctuated by occasional laughter.

Geto and Satoru joined the line at the cafeteria, grabbed something to eat and then scanned the crowd for a place to sit. It was then that Satoru's gaze inadvertently fell upon a familiar group. There you were, sitting among your friends at one of the sun-drenched tables. Your laughter reached his ears, bringing a smile to his face.

"Looks like we've found our spot," Geto remarked, following Satoru's gaze. Without waiting for a response, he led the way towards your table.

As they approached, the conversation at your table paused. All eyes turned towards the new arrivals. "Mind if we join you?" Geto asked with his usual charm.

Maki looked up. "Of course, professors, but only if you promise not to spring any surprise tests on us."

Geto chuckled. "No surprises today, I assure you."

Everyone shuffled to make room. Satoru settled down across from you, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that was hard to ignore. You met his gaze, lifting your eyebrows slightly to remind him that you were not alone at this table.

"So, what's everyone's plan for the summer break?" Satoru asked the group.

Maki leaned back in her chair. "I'm hitting the trails. Hiking. It's high time I actually enjoyed a summer."

Yuta chimed in, "I'm searching for internships for next summer. Never too early to start, right? Still figuring out what field to dive into, though."

Maki groaned. "Oh, internships... just thinking about applying gives me a headache."

"You'll land something good, I'm sure," you reassured her.

Maki shot you a playful smirk. "Easy for you to say, miss one-half of the 'charming surgeon couple.' Seems like you won't be needing an internship after all."

Yuta laughed. "Yeah, thanks to her, we've been the center of attention all day."

Geto brushed off the concern. "Don't worry too much about it. The media's always onto the next thing. This will be old news before summer."

Yet Maki pressed on, her grin mischievous. "Speaking of summer, must be nice, having such an interesting summer break lined up with Dr. Gojo," she remarked. "Surgery after surgery, all season long."

You shot Maki a warning look, on the verge of answering, but Satoru was quicker.

"Well," Satoru began, "working closely with such a skilled partner certainly promises a summer of... intense teamwork." His gaze lingered on you just a moment longer than necessary, the ambiguous implication of his words clear to all present.

Under the table, your foot found its target—Satoru's shin—eliciting a sharp, yet subtle, reaction from him. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Geto rubbing his temple. He must have a headache by now.

"But Zenin has a point," Satoru recovered smoothly, "there's no substitute for hands-on experience. You should all consider internships."

Yuta then turned his attention to Geto and Satoru. "Are you two planning to come to the summer gathering?"

Satoru, caught slightly off guard, tilted his head. "Summer gathering? What's that?"

"It's just a small thing we're putting together to mark the start of the summer break. The whole practical class will be there, along with Dr. Kento and a few other professors from the department. It's casual, just a way to celebrate together," Yuta elaborated.

At this, Satoru's gaze shifted to you, an eyebrow arching in silent question. "How come I'm just hearing about this now?"

You gave a somewhat embarrassed smile, caught out for not mentioning it. "I assumed you'd be too busy."

"For something like this, I can always make time." His eyebrows raising even more.

"We'll be there and looking forward to it," Geto declared, casting a glance towards Satoru. "Right?"

Satoru, however, seemed momentarily distracted, his gaze still fixed on you. "Of course, I wouldn't miss it." It was clear he was irked by being kept in the dark. You felt a sudden shiver run down your spine.

You stood up abruptly. "I think I'll grab some dessert."

Satoru was quick on his feet, almost too eager to accompany you. "I think I'll get something too," he said, his voice betraying none of the annoyance his eyes had communicated moments before.

In the bustling line of the cafeteria, with the hum of conversations and the clink of dishes in the background, Satoru leaned closer to you.

"Why didn't you tell me about the gathering sooner?" he asked, his eyes searching yours. "After what happened at the last party, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be there without... well, without someone looking out for you."

"It's just a casual thing, Satoru. No alcohol, and plenty of faculty around. It's completely different and perfectly safe."

Satoru frowned slightly. "Still don't like the idea. I should go with you, just to make sure everything's okay."

"As what? My boyfriend?" The words slipped out before you could stop them.

He smirked. "If that's what you like."

You glared at him. "That's not what I meant." Deciding to change the subject, you asked, "How are you holding up? With the withdrawal, I mean?"

"I'm not done talking about this," Satoru said, his tone sharpening. "You have to tell me such things."

"Since when?"

"Since—certain things happened."

"Oh, you want to further elaborate that?"

"You know what I mean."

"I can handle myself, Satoru."

"Yeah, I've seen that." he said, his voice laced with irony. "But be sure, I'll be keeping a close eye on you during the gathering." Without another word, he stepped out of the line, leaving you to process his abrupt departure.

"Wait, aren't you getting dessert?" you called after him.

"The only dessert I want right now is off-limits," he said, his voice fading as he walked away.

─── ·✧· ───

"Seems like Dr. Handsome can't take his eyes off you," Maki whispered, leaning in closer.

You turned your head slightly to see Satoru, indeed, staring at you.

Wow. He's not even trying to be subtle about it.

It was a warm summer evening, the kind that felt like a gentle pause in the rush of academic life. The summer gathering unfolded under the soft glow of twilight. A bonfire crackled at the center, casting a warm, flickering light over everyone there.

Satoru found himself on the periphery of the gathering, engaged in conversation with Geto but with his attention drawn to you. Despite the distance, you could feel the weight of his gaze, an invisible tether connecting the two of you across the space.

You tried to focus on the chat with Maki, Yuta, and Toge about their upcoming internships, but the sensation of being watched was hard to ignore.

"Oh, you know how it is," you said to Maki. "He's probably just making sure I don't accidentally set the bonfire ablaze."

Maki smirked. "Hmh, sure."

You reached for your phone.

[7:28 PM] You: Ever considered letting your gaze wander elsewhere?

[7:28 PM] Satoru: And miss out on the best view here? Not a chance.

[7:28 PM] You: Compliments will get you nowhere, professor. Maybe you should socialize a bit. Lots of interesting people here.

[7:29 PM] Satoru: Perhaps, but none of them are you. Let's strike a deal. I'll divert my attention if you spare me some time later tonight.

[7:29 PM] You: Quite a broad request. What did you have in mind?

[7:30 PM] Satoru: Nothing untoward, I assure you. Just the pleasure of your company, away from the crowd. A quiet walk, perhaps?

[7:31 PM] You: Just the two of us?

[7:31 PM] Satoru: Just the two of us. Unless you're afraid you might enjoy my company too much?

[7:32 PM] You: You're too sure of yourself. Alright, a walk it is. But keep your hands to yourself.

[7:33 PM] Satoru: You have my word.

[7:33 PM] You: We'll see about that. Meanwhile, try not to stare too hard.

[7:34 PM] Satoru: Anything you want, first-year.

You slid your phone back into your pocket, turning your attention back to the conversation with Maki, Yuta, and Toge. Some time later that evening you were gathered around the bonfire, its flames casting a warm glow against the darkening sky.

Geto and Satoru eventually joined, effortlessly blending into the casual flow of conversation. After a lighthearted debate about the most challenging surgeries they had witnessed, Satoru found an opportune moment when the others were momentarily distracted by attempting to roast marshmallows over the bonfire.

He leaned closer to you, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "You know," Satoru began, his breath warm against your ear, "I can't wait to have you all to myself."

"Needy, are we?"

"Can you blame me?"

You tilted your head slightly, checking your surroundings to ensure no prying eyes were on you. "Looks like someone needs to work on their patience."

Satoru inched even closer. "I'm in withdrawal. My patience is wearing quite thin these days."

"Too bad for you, professor. But we had an agreement, remember?"

His hand reached out to gently cradle your chin, urging you to meet his gaze. "I was hoping we could bend the rules a bit?"

You pushed his hand away. "You really have no shame, do you? In front of everyone? And with Geto just over there?" Your eyes darted briefly to Geto, making sure his attention was elsewhere.

Satoru grinned. "I like living on the edge. It's more fun that way."

"You're giving me a headache."

Yuta, reaching to feed another log to the fire, suddenly froze, his attention caught by a figure on the opposite side of the flames. "Hold on, isn't that the guy?"

You tried to follow his gaze, squinting into the darkness. "What guy?"

"From that party," Yuta clarified. "The one who drugged you."

At this, Satoru's demeanor shifted, his face hardening as he locked eyes with the student Yuta pointed out. The memories from that night were hazy, but something about the guy seemed familiar. "It might be him. I don't know really."

"It's definitely him," Maki was more certain. "We need to do something, report him or—"

"Zenin, are you sure it was him?" Satoru interjected.

Maki nodded. "Yes."

As if sensing what was about to happen Geto turned to Satoru. "Satoru, don't." But it was too late. Satoru was already in motion. Geto hurried after him, but Satoru was already closing the distance.

Before anyone could react, Satoru had the student by the collar, the first punch landing with a sickening thud that silenced the surrounding chatter. He stumbled, crashing to the ground.

Satoru hovered over him as the next punch followed—and the next—and the next, until Satoru's hand was smeared with blood.

The area around the bonfire erupted into chaos, the festive atmosphere shattered. Geto moved through the crowd, his voice booming over the noise. "Satoru! Enough!" He reached Satoru, pulling him back with a firm grip.

The crowd around them had backed away, forming a wide circle. Silence fell over the scene, broken only by the muffled moans of the injured student on the ground and the distant crackle of the bonfire.

You pushed your way through the crowd, your heart racing as you reached Satoru, who was still being restrained by Geto. His usual crisp button-down shirt now stained crimson.

The student lay curled up on the ground, groaning, his face bloodied. You didn't take a closer look at him, the sight of blood on the ground enough to paint a vivid picture of Satoru's force.

You turned to Satoru and took his hand in yours. His skin was ripped and blood flowed freely from his knuckles. Geto met your eyes, his expression grave. "Get him out of here. I'll handle this."

You nodded. The crowd parted silently as you led Satoru away, their eyes following every step, whispers beginning to bubble up.

"Are you okay?"

"Never been better," Satoru said, his breathing heavy and uneven.

"God, Satoru, what were you thinking?"

He winced slightly. "Not much, I guess."

You guided Satoru through the maze of university corridors, his pace mechanically in sync with yours. The few staff and students you passed gave curious glances, but you paid them no mind. Reaching his office, you quickly ushered him inside and locked the door behind you.

"Sit down," you instructed. He complied, his movements sluggish.

You hurried to his medical supplies. Thankfully, he was always well-stocked. Returning to his side, you pushed another chair beside him and took his hand. The knuckles were raw, skin broken in places where his blows had connected with the student's face.

"Didn't I tell you to stop making me patch you up?" you said as you began to clean the wounds. Satoru flinched slightly but didn't pull away.

"You're going to be an expert in emergency care long before your graduation at this rate." He let out a short, strained laugh. "But it was worth it. God, I hope I broke his jaw, aimed right where it hurts the most. That's for sure a slow heal."

"You what?"

"I took my shot."

You shock your head. "I can't believe you sometimes."

You observed him closely. Satoru's hand in you care was shaking more than could be attributed to the adrenaline of the fight. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his breathing was too fast, too shallow.

"Satoru, you're shaking."

"I'm fine. Just a bit rattled from everything."

"Don't lie to me."

He slumped further into the chair, legs apart, head thrown back. His face was a mask of strain, brows drawn together, lips parting slightly with each labored breath. "It's nothing I can't handle. Just... not used to being without my... usual dosage."

"How much clonidine did you take today?"

"None."

"None? Satoru, you really should—"

"No, clonidine doesn't work. It just conceals it."

"You're going through withdrawal. You need something to take the edge off."

He sighed. "I know what I'm doing. I've been through this before," he said, though his voice lacked conviction. "If I can't get my high, then at least let me feel the pain from the withdrawal."

"You make yourself suffer more than you have to."

"It's fine," he said. "I've promised you that I'd get clean. Just trust me on this."

"Hard to when you go around punching people in the face," you remarked, securing the last of the bandages around his hand. "Director Yaga will have your head for this, you know right?"

"Yaga will do nothing. He can't afford to lose me. He knows that. He's too dependent on me and Suguru."

As you finished with the bandage, you looked into his eyes. "But he won't stand by and watch you act out like that all the time."

Satoru adjusted his posture slightly. "I know."

"And that guy? I doubt his nose was the only thing you broke." You gently moved the fingers of his injured hand. "Can you move them well?"

"They're good. You always do an excellent job," he said with a weary smile. "And the boy is nothing money can't take care of."

Your gaze hardened. "Satoru, that's not the point. What if you seriously injured him? What if he takes this to court?"

"Then I'll deal with it."

"Still, this is not okay."

"That he drugged you is not okay."

You sighed, shaking your head. "You're unbelievable."

He cracked a small smile. "I know you love me, though."

Huh?

Satoru relaxed back in his chair. "Just do me a favor and steer clear of parties for a bit, okay?"

You removed your gloves, giving him a long look.

Noticing your prolonged silence, Satoru cracked open an eye. "What is it?"

"Satoru, they will talk."

"Who?"

"Everyone. I mean, I just dragged you out of there, in full view. They all saw us leave together."

"So? A student was worried for their professor. That's all they saw."

"Yeah. That's sure what they'll say."

Satoru leaned in closer. He took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to it. "Don't stress your pretty head over it. I'm here, and I won't let anything get to you." He then stood, and placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head. "Come on, let's head home. It's been a long day."

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: if this is not the perfect stage for trouble to unfold haha. thank you for the wait, dears! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. As always feel free to leave your thoughts! :)

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future!)

#gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #satoru gojo fanfiction

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kentosbabes · 1 year

Text

D for an A.

Professor Nanami who walked into class on the first day not expecting to see you, you had met previously at a party hosted by one of his college friends. But there you are, sitting in his lecture hall with a pen in your pretty mouth. Nanami remembered you vividly, your aura and beauty brought men from all ends of the house to right in front of you. He can remember the drunk kids you shared on a dare. Nanami can see you conversing with another classmate of yours, your head flogging back with a laugh on your lips.

Professor Nanami hated how you made him feel like a blushing schoolgirl. He feels an unbridled desire for you, it shakes him to his very core. He knows he shouldn’t like you like that. It’s wrong, its perverse, you’re so innocent and naive to the ways of an older man. He refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you, which is becoming an increasingly difficult way to suppress his emotions. Nanami fucks his fist with your name on his tongue and your face flicking through his mind in a post-orgasmic state. It makes it much harder to see you the next day for class.

He was nervous, Professor Nanami asked you to stay back after a mock exam. He noticed you haven’t been yourself for a couple days, your usually high exam results have taken a hit. You’re one of his more intelligent students, so seeing you do so bad? It infuriated him. He knows you can do better so that was probably why he asked you to stay back. “I’m disappointed in you and your attitude to my class, do you feel like you don’t have to try so hard because you get good results anyways in the real thing?” Your eyes start to well up and Nanami realises you might actually cry in front of him, “I just want to know why, that’s all, so I can best support you.”

Professor Nanami was shocked when you told him the that the reason why you weren’t doing so well was because of you break up with your boyfriend. You broke it off mutually due to compatibility reasons but it didn’t hurt any less. Nanami was only wishing that he could make you feel better, perhaps go down on you or fuck you till you forget his name and who he was.

It was awkward for Professor Nanami and you after your random breakdown in his office, he was strangely an excellent listener. The kiss you shared at the party was initiated by the crowd chanting and the haziness from the hella drinking you did for your friend's birthday. You assumed he'd want to bring it up but all he gave you were lustful stares when he thought you weren't watching, but you would have to be blind to not notice his darkening gaze when you spoke or looked at him.

You confer with your friend about Professor Nanami and she aptly suggests you need a rebound and he seems single and ready to fuck. Thus began operation D for an A. Nanami noticed a lack of effort on your part in his class work, he asked around and it seemed like this was an issue in his class and his class alone. What was different about him? He told you to stay back to discuss your recent performance in class.

Professor Nanami looked good enough to eat, your plan was simple, to fuck him and rebound from your ex. Hopefully, he's down as well. He asked you to stay back and you hope he's finally gotten the hints you have been giving him all week, including the dropped items you bent down to get and sucking all manners of items like pens and lollipops. He locked the door, "Darlin' we need to talk about your grades." You look up at him and decide to be a brat, "well, have I been a bad girl? Maybe you need to punish me?"

Professor Nanami was not expecting this at all. His eyebrows raised to his hairline, you wanted him? Why? You were under a decade his junior. He stepped forward and put your chin in between his index finger and thumb. "Oh really?" He teased, he would think about the practicalities of this relationship later, right now you're too irresistible for him to resist. You lean in to kiss him and it is nothing you have ever felt before, the sheer practice and experience made you feel out of your depth.

His cock twitched at the thought of you cucking on his dick like you teased him with that god-forsaken lollipop. Lord knows how you pictured yourself on your knees sucking Professor Nanami's cock in his office. The thrill of getting caught somehow made you even wetter if that was possible. You don't know what prompted you to be so promiscuous, but this worked for him. You closed the gap between you and started to unbuckle his trousers, looking up through your eyelashes for permission.

Professor Nanami nodded and you pulled his black boxers down alongside his trousers. His cock was hardening under your touch, it was like nothing you have ever seen before, definitely, the largest you have ever sucked. You wonder if it's even going to fit in your mouth. His grunts and groans sound melodic to you as you kitten-lick him to get used to his size. You breathe through your nose, a tip learnt from your friends but never got to use due to your ex's uselessness in bed. Taking a breath and sucking, deep-throating him. Your cheeks hollowing and tears streaking your face almost made him cum right there and then.

Professor Nanami could've taken you right there on his desk, but he wanted to take his time with you and fuck you senselessly so you forget that ex-boyfriend of yours. He could feel himself drawing to a close, right on the edge, "Doll, I'm going to cum," he pauses, "good girls swallow, can you do that for me? hm?" He throws his head back with a whine caught in his throat, you swallowed. You actually swallowed his seed because he asked, the image of white cum leaking out of your mouth and streaked makeup could've made him fuck you right there.

You ask Professor Nanami for a second round at his place. "Obviously, I still need to fuck you so well you forget his name."

Masterlist

#kentosbabes #kento nanami #nanami smut #nanami headcanons #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento headcanons #nanami kento drabble #kento x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #fem reader #x reader #one shot #teacher x reader #teacher x student #hes so fine and for what #i need him so bad

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kenny-the-ken · 1 year

Note

perv mysterion x perv fem reader? i’m in need for some juicy stuff like this with kenny

Superhuman Lovers

ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS!!! NSFW content and strong language!! I'm so sorry for lack of content last night guys, I promise I'll try and get some more stuff out today 🥰

The night air was cold, and you could feel the goosebumps on your skin, a shiver down your spine. Either something bad was going to happen, or you seriously needed to put more clothes on.

That was when you heard a light thud from behind you, turning to see what had made such a noise, especially on top of a roof in the early hours of the morning.

That's when you saw him, Mysterion. You had been involved with Professor Chaos and were the only female in his team, but you had an upper hand, no guy would want to hurt a woman, so you found yourself rarely injured in battle.

Before you could open your mouth to talk, you felt a hand wrapping around your throat, pushing you backwards to the ground, a weight now sat on top of you.

"We need to stop meeting like this, baby." Mysterion spoke, a smirk planted firmly on his face. You knew his identity, the only person who ever chatted you up like that was Kenny, and although you were on opposing teams, you couldn't help but let your mind wander.

Kenny was good looking, and he knew it. And deep down, he had been suppressing feelings for you for what had felt like forever, but you were sworn enemies, and what kind of hero would he be if he slept with the enemy!

"You found me, Mysterion. What's wrong, your underpants getting too tight around me?" You flirted, you and Kenny were friends, and extremely similar in a lot of ways, including having a dirty mind. You could both work each other up to no end, but had never been alone long enough to test the waters fully.

"And so what if they were? I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Mysterion spoke, your faces mere inches from each other, you flashed him a grin, before speaking again.

"I wouldn't mind it. Besides, it looks like you're the one getting flustered under that mask." You retorted, making Mysterion scoff to himself.

"Me, get flustered by Chaos scum like you, I think you're just dreaming again, pretty." Kenny spoke, his teeth catching his lower lip.

"And who said I was interested in someone from Freedom Pals, as if I'd betray Professor Chaos like that." You replied and Kenny's eyes were dark, cunning. You knew he was up to something.

"One night with me, baby and you'd be begging us to let your ass join." Kenny spoke, having you still pinned to the ground, his eyes scanning you up and down, lifting his knee to between your legs, pressing against you, a smirk on his face, as he let your arms go, bringing his face closer, so he whispered into your ear.

"By the time I'm done with you this whole part of town will know who you're loyal to, I'll make you scream my name." Kenny whispered into your ear, and you could feel your panties begin to dampen, your cheeks flush beneath your costume, and your breath hitched as Kenny attached his mouth to your neck, biting down and sucking your sweet spot, a light gasp leaving your parted lips.

"And what make you think I want you, Mysterion?" You spoke, the skirt of your costume high up your thighs, thanks to Kenny's leg, and your top pulled down a bit more than usual, showing off some cleavage, as if you knew he was coming for you tonight.

Kenny's knee pressed harder against you, a smirk on his face and a low, breathy chuckle emanating from him, his lips still against your neck and working their way down your chest, closer and closer to your breasts.

"I think your reactions are telling me otherwise, or are you just a slut like this for anyone, hm?" Kenny pressed further.

"And how eager you are tells me you're just as worked up as I am, Mysterion. Don't try and be coy." And just as those words had left your mouth, Kenny replied.

"We never speak of this to anyone." Kenny warned, before pressing his lips to yours, and you kissed him back. This was wrong, you two were supposed to be rivals, sworn enemies, yet here you both were, melting against each others touches, like a modern day Romeo and Juliet.

Kenny kept you pinned beneath him, enjoying his control over you, he couldn't roam his hands quick enough, he wanted to feel every little bit of your body, ravish you like he'd wanted to for a long time, and finally he was getting his way, and he would make sure this was a night neither of you could ever forget.

The kiss was passionate, both of your tongues fighting for dominance, and you finally gave in to the man above you, allowing yourself to submit to him.

"M-Mysterion." You breathed as the kiss began broken, both of you gasping for air, and Kenny knew you were under his spell, pressing kisses down your chest, as he slowly began to unclasp your corset, his lips between your breasts already, before his gaze met your own, his piercing blue eyes giving you butterflies in your stomach.

"I've wanted to touch you this way for a long time, y/n. Wearing such a seductive outfit, it's like you did this on purpose, do you know how many times I've touched myself thinking of you?" Kenny spoke, his mouth grazing over your erect nipple, a gasp escaping your swollen lips, and Kenny felt his head spin. He'd wanted this for so long, and by god was he going to enjoy this.

"I've wanted this for a long time too, Kenny. I always knew you had a thing for me." You spoke, a smirk on your face. Kenny had made short work of your corset, and he started taking his own costume off, his blonde, messy hair springing free from the constricting costume he wore.

He was ethereal, the dull orange street lamps creating enough light for you both to see each other clearly, and Kenny's eyes never left you for a second, apart from when he pulled his top over his head, leaving him full undressed apart from his trousers.

That was when you heard it, the shouting of your team mates and Kenny's. A battle had begun, and you both knew you should go and fight for your respective teams, and help your friends, but the enemies embrace clouded your mind, and all you could think of was Mysterion, hovering above you, completely shirtless and sucking hickeys on your breasts.

"Ken, they're fighting." You whispered, and Kenny hummed to himself, pulling away from your breast and leaving a dark purple bruise where his mouth once was.

"Let them fight, I'm busy making the enemy submit to me." Kenny replied, pulling your skirt from your body in one quick motion, leaving you in nothing but your panties, your face flushed.

Mysterion smirked, moving closer to you, taking his own trousers off as he moved closer to you, and you were motionless as you lay where you had been on the roof of the building below you both.

Kenny was such a tease, he was pressing wet kisses up your inner thigh, biting your soft skin and leaving bruises where he saw fit, but you were growing impatient, you wanted him, and you wanted him now!

"Typical Freedom Pal, all talk and no action." You spoke, a smirk on your face, before feeling Kenny's hands grip the waist band of your panties, he didn't just pull them down, in fact he tore them into two pieces and threw them over his shoulder, a smirk on his face.

"That enough action for you, baby?" He questioned, not letting you speak before he licked a long stripe along your pussy, widening your lips with his hands to circle your clit perfectly with his skilful tongue. And you couldn't believe the pleasure already, how wet you really were, and now long you'd been waiting for this to happen.

"K-Kenny." You let out, feeling him smirk against your cunt, he skilfully inserted two fingers into your tight hole, and god you felt electric, your back arched against the cold roof tiles, a long moan leaving your parted lips.

"Feels good to be fucked by the enemy, huh?" Kenny spoke, curling his fingers as he thrust them in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

"F-Fuck... need more." You moaned out, eyes screwed shut, legs spread wide and Kenny's fingers buried inside you, teasing you to no end.

"Need more what, baby girl? Use your words." Mysterion spoke, a smirk still planted on his face, his lips coming to meet yours, both of you getting lost within each other, and as Kenny trailed his lips down to your neck, pressing rough kisses, you spoke.

"I-I need you inside me, Kenny. Please?" You begged, your hands tangled in his messy blonde hair, tugging gently on the ends and earning a grunt from Kenny.

It was your turn to tease, pulling his cock free from his boxers, and pumping his erecting shaft a few times, a smirk on your face as you did.

"Oh baby, I'll be inside you soon, but first..." He trailed off, eyes sultry as he stood above you, and you knew what he was alluding to.

"Suck." He ordered, and who were you to argue in such a vulnerable state? His boxers were off completely now, and you balanced on your knees, taking his cock back into your hands, licking a bead of pre cum off his sensitive tip before taking him fully into your mouth, hallowing your cheeks to create suction, and bobbing your head at a steady pace. You gazed up at Kenny, who had one of his hands tangled in your hair, your eyes were dripping with innocence as your picked up your pace slightly, causing low groans and moans escaping his lips.

Kenny liked the fact that you wore your hair up in a pony tail, and he gripped it tightly, tugging your head backwards, his cock slipping out of your mouth, gazing up at him, saliva running down your chin, your eyes watering.

"Look at that, how would Chaos feel, knowing you're sucking the cock off one of his biggest rivals, hmm? But you don't care, you're desperate for me, aren't you?" Kenny spoke, his tone low and his voice husky, and god you needed him more than ever before.

"Get on all fours, I'm gonna fuck you like a slut." Kenny ordered, and you did as you were told, fully submitting to your enemy.

Kenny hummed to himself, eyeing up your ass that was in the air, begging for him to slap it, so he did, several times, earning nothing but strangled moans from you.

And before you had any time to react he slid his cock into your wet cunt, throwing your head back and moaning as he started a fast pace from the start.

"Fuck, M-Mysterion!" You moaned out, which Kenny seemed to like just as much as hearing his own name, slapping your ass again, before gripping your hips with both hands, slamming himself into you deeper.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight for me." Kenny grunted, his chest resting on your back, as he gripped your hair, pulling your face up to his, and you turned to look at him as best as you could.

"I'm gonna cum deep inside you, and then you're mine. You understand?" He whispered, his pace never faltering once, and god you were in heaven. Kenny was big, but he also knew what to do with his dick, and not a lot of guys did.

"Fuck, Ken, I'm getting close already." You moaned out for him, and he delivered another sharp slap to your ass cheek, making you gasp, more moans spilling from your lips.

"Yeah? Gonna cum round my cock?" Kenny groaned, his pace quickening as he neared his own release.

"Cum for me, slut. Let this whole town know who fucked you this good." He spoke, and you couldn't hold it back any longer, you came round his cock, your cunt pulsating round Kenny's length as he kept up his brutal pace.

"Kenny! Fuck, oh my god! Yes yes yes!" You moaned loudly, as Kenny's thrusts started to become sloppy, his eyes shut as he slammed himself deeply into you.

"Fuck, y/n, you're mine, you're fucking mine, shit!" Kenny moaned out as his cock shot ropes of cum deep inside you, both of your moans filling the night sky, and you could no longer hear any fighting from your teammates, not that either of you cared.

Kenny was still inside you, hunched over your back, both your bodies sweaty in the freezing cold, and he slowly got off you, pulling out his cock and smirking to himself as he watched his cum spill out of your used hole.

It took you a while to get your clothes back on, blushing when you realised you had no panties, because Kenny had torn them to shreds.

You turned to look at him, and he was dressed in his costume once more, holding out his arms to embrace you, and you gladly accepted, hugging him back, your head pressed to his chest.

"I've really liked you for a long time, but we're gonna have to keep this quiet, if that's okay with you?" Kenny asked, pressing a gentle kiss to your head, a complete attitude change to what you were used to.

"I'd love that, Ken. I've always liked you." You replied, both of you blushing, before Kenny spoke once more.

"Come on, I'll take you home. Maybe we can go for round 2 at your place?" He flirted, and you shoved his shoulder playfully.

"You should be so lucky, question mark boy." You replied as Kenny lifted you on to his back, a smirk on his face.

"Weren't calling me that five minutes ago."

#kenny mccormick #kenny south park #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick smut #eric cartman #kyle brovlofski #stan marsh #kyle south park #stan south park #south park #south park x reader #south park smut #south park fanfiction #mysterion x reader #mysterion #fanfic #kenny sp #sp kenny

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devildom-moss · 7 months

Text

Roses for You (9)

This had all started when you noticed a link between a book on the language of flowers you had borrowed from Satan’s room and the current lessons from your Seductive Speechcraft and Magical Potions classes.

In Seductive Speechcraft, you had just reached a section on the effectiveness of spells using non-verbal communication: enchanting glances, dance, and offerings. Meanwhile, in Magical Potions, the professor had been discussing the significance of using specific quantities when concocting potions; they had spent fifteen minutes just providing examples – including adding petals from two different flowers when using them for a love spell.

You couldn’t resist discussing the use of flower language – utilizing the type, color, and quantity of the flowers – to specify the magical intent of an offering as a form of seductive speechcraft. Asmo and Solomon listened intently. The same idea popped into both of their minds, and before you knew it, everyone was looking into color and number meanings, searching for the perfect combination to convey their feelings for you and try to put you under their spell. The only rule for their little competition to charm you? Only roses are allowed.

Will you be charmed by their attempts?

Nine Roses - Barbatos

Word Count: +1,500 (sorry. I think my bias is showing.)

Eternal love

“Hey, Barbatos, why did you want to see me today?” You stood at the door to the Demon Lord’s castle.

Barbatos chuckled and stepped aside to allow you in. “What would you say if I told you I simply wanted to see you?”

“I’d say, ‘I’m glad you invited me because I missed you, too.’”

You missed the brief widening of his smile. He was delighted by your response, but the thought of someone walking into the foyer and seeing him practically fawning over you caused him to suppress that joy.

“Actually,” Barbatos started with a hint of something between hesitation and musing. “I was finishing up a task that I believe you might enjoy. Would you like to try your hand at making a flower arrangement?”

“I don’t know if I’d be any good at it, but it sounds fun.”

“Excellent. Come with me to the garden.” Barbatos turned, hiding the sudden appearance of a grin, and led the way. Perfect, he thought. It was no coincidence that you “caught him” in the middle of this particular task. He had worked hard to complete his necessary duties ahead of time so that he could spend the entire afternoon with you. This last task had been postponed until you were on your way with the hope that it would spark your interest – with the expectation that his plan would come to fruition. “I have a table set up in the garden where I was previously making arrangements. The flowers around the castle required refreshing. Although, as you can see, I’ve already completed a few.”

There was a vase slightly ahead of you on a table in the hall. You recognized the purple basil and black calla lilies, but there was something else in the arrangement – some alien- or Devildom-looking plant. It was a large dark reddish-brown, almost black, with petals that resembled wings – some pointed, demonic version of an orchid. Even stranger were the long, whisker-like tendrils that jutted out from the center. You’d never seen anything like it. “What type of flower is that?”

“I take it you mean the black bat flower?” Barbatos hummed and stopped in front of the vase.

“Is it native to the Devildom? It’s incredible. I half-expected it to growl at me as we walked by.”

“No, my dear,” Barbatos chuckled. “This plant is from the human world, but it tolerates Devildom conditions quite well; in fact, it flourishes here – much like yourself. I’ve heard about your recent interest in flower meanings, would you happen to have learned about any of these?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s the same for purple basil, but basil is usually a symbol of love, right?”

“It is now, although I’ve read that it once symbolized hatred. It was said to drive men insane. What an interesting turn of events. Both the calla lilies and the bat flower symbolize transformation, strength, and mystery. However, the black calla lily has a rather unique association.” Barbatos paused and turned to face you. His tail wrapped around the back of your thighs and pulled you closer to him. He held your gaze seductively and spoke, slow and heavy: “forbidden love.”

Barbatos had brought you here on purpose – both to see that particular arrangement and because the hall was quiet and not prone to foot traffic. He gave you a gentle smile that smothered the spark of heat you had felt in his eyes.

You found yourself searching for something to say – to cut the charged tension in a still-very-public part of the castle. “It’s a beautiful arrangement, Barbatos.”

Barbatos chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, dear, I lost myself momentarily. Shall we continue to the garden?”

He didn’t wait for a response before he turned and began to walk. You immediately felt his tail drop and encircle one of your calves, pulling you along with him.

The table Barbatos had set up in the garden was filled with a variety of flowers. You could see that he had nearly completed another arrangement before you had arrived. Barbatos added a few more hell roses and a sprig of black grass before he wrapped it carefully. “I’m going to place this in an empty vase. You’re welcome to use whatever you’d like to create your arrangement.”

“Will you display it in the castle when I’m done?”

“I’d like to, yes – if you don’t mind.”

You grinned to yourself as Barbatos walked away. The thought of Barbatos looking at an arrangement you made throughout the week as he went about his duties left you nervous but eager to please. Instinctively, you reached for a blue anemone. Sure, you probably should have considered what would suit the castle and the potential surrounding décor, but all you could think about was Barbatos. You added a few purple hyacinths, and cursed baby blue eyes, rotating the placement of each selection, but you felt that something was missing. The pale blue glow of hell jasmine called to you. Strange; the scent of hell jasmine was said to make a demon extremely needy. Why would Barbatos want to display these in the castle? That seems a bit dangerous. However, on closer inspection, the scent had been hampered significantly compared to other times you had run into this plant.

“Let me guess,” Barbatos spoke up as he returned to the garden. “You’re wondering if that hell jasmine has had an effect on me today?”

“Sort of.”

“Worry not. This variety has been modified. Its scent has no power over me. That honor is all yours today. It’s perfectly safe to use in your arrangement.”

“Oh!” You felt the heat rise in your face. You weren’t sure you believed him with all his sweet-talking. But that didn’t matter. If the hell jasmine was safe to use, it would make for the perfect final touch. You wanted to surprise Barbatos with your creative decisions. “Close your eyes, please.”

“As you wish.” Barbatos made no attempt to get closer and shut his eyes. You finished your arrangement and brought it to Barbatos, holding it out to him like an offering.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.” You watched as a look of pleasant surprise was sketched on Barbatos’s face. The smile on his lips filled you with an unfamiliar pride – so warm and encompassing as if you had performed a miracle. There was no restraint in that smile. “I made it with you in mind.”

“Oh my.” Barbatos brought the knuckle of his index finger to his mouth. “I beg your pardon, but would you indulge my selfishness and put your arrangement in my room? There’s an empty vase on the table near the door.”

“You want to display it in your room?”

“I would feel better knowing something so thoughtfully crafted by you was in my room. I’m afraid I would feel quite jealous allowing someone else to admire it. That is, I want the sole joy of seeing it and thinking of you each day. Is that okay?”

“Are you certain the hell jasmine has had no effect on you?” You looked at him suspiciously as if that would distract from the way he flustered you.

“I’m afraid not. This seems to be a consequence of thinking about you so much today. Now, will you do me a favor and deliver those to my room? I believe you’re adept at finding my room on your own by now,” Barbatos added a seductive tinge to the last sentence. He turned you towards the entrance and gave you a gentle nudge. The warmth of his hand lingered as you headed to his room.

When you returned, Barbatos was carefully wrapping a bouquet of blue roses and darkness thyme – likely both of which were cultivated by Barbatos. It was simple, but the blue roses were stunning, and their rarity was only complemented by an equally rare herb. Barbatos tied a silky blue bow around the bouquet and held it out to you with both hands – an oddly elegant gesture.

“Where would you like me to put these?” you asked.

“No, my dear, these are for you.”

Your eyes widened and you took a closer look at the bouquet. Nine blue roses. Nine was for a timeless, eternal love. Blue roses signified mystery and uniqueness, but they could also mean something unattainable or impossible. You frowned. “Eternal love is impossible?”

Sure, maybe Barbatos wouldn’t love you forever, but that message seemed a bit cruel.

“Not quite.” Barbatos laughed at you softly. Had his laugh not been so sweet, you might have been upset. “Blue may represent the impossible, but here it is – a dream come true. If I can be so bold, you are a dream come true – the only one I could adore like this for all of time.”

The frown fell from your face, and you were left with shock and shyness. Something must have gotten into him today. In truth, the thought of the others giving you roses only encouraged Barbatos to charm you as much as he could, and that meant he would need to bare his heart to you. Barbatos pulled you in close and kissed you with a sweetness that matched his words.

“For a demon such as myself, eternal love is a rather serious proposal; will you still accept it?” His thumb ran across your lower lip.

“That would be a dream come true.” It was your turn to kiss and fluster him now. Hopefully none of the little D.s would go into the garden that afternoon.

#this was not supposed to be this long. I just got too into it. I'll try to go back to shorter posts next time.#I took my idea and ran with it so here it is #barbatos #gn!mc #obey me series #obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #please let this one get some much craved (by me) attention #also did I give Barbatos soft dom energy or what?

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grazieschillivera · 9 months

Text

Longing curses 2/5

-His persuasions-

Chapter Summary: After the little incident at the dueling club Tom has to start over to win you back. Now that he knows how the little dance of love works, he decides to not only show you how similar you both are but also shares a new secret with you

Word count: ca. 2000

Warnings/tags: some fluff (I guess), manipulation, making out

Some days went by. Tom could feel how tense you were again in his presence and he started to think about how he should show you that you were wrong. One afternoon Tom's studying got softly interrupted when a gentle laughter echoed through the shelfs. His head turned around in curiosity. He had never heard such a sweet laugh and his heart arched in a unknown way once his eyes found you. You stood there with a friend who just made you giggle and you suppressed the rest of it to not interrupt the other students further while you gave your friend a warm smile - instead of him, he thought. He was supposed to make you laugh, you should be at his side by now. Maybe you were right. He had to give something to get something, love needed commitment. True commitment, and Tom needed to find a way to share this with you without breaking himself.

✧ ⊹ I ✧ ⊹

A week later you had curfew again. Occasionally you would see some of the other prefects when your routes almost crossed.

,,Coffee?'' a voice next to you asked, making you stop in your admiring of the painting over the library entrance. The shadow next to you was easy to recognize. Unsure you looked down at Toms bottle.

,,Its safe, see. Helps with the tiredness'' he said while he held the bottle in front of you after he had taken a swallow.

,,Thanks'' you said when you took it from him. Your gazes were still locked.

,,You can trust me. I have every book I want. But I want to go inside to show you something'' he said. You drank some of the coffee and even though it was welcomed, your lips still curled down due to the bitter taste. Or maybe because of the offering Tom gave you.

,,I'm not interest in you showing me whatever you have in mind'' you said handing over his drink.

,,You don't mean that. I fear you misunderstood me last week. Give me another chance'' Tom said and made a step to the library’s huge wooden door, but you blocked his way by standing up in front of him.

,,I'm very clear with my opinions. You're just as cunning and self-serving as your friends, you don't care about others and just want things your way'' you said.

,,If I am all those things, then why do you think I had invited you to the club? Like it or not but I'm not the person you want me to be. In fact, I think you are scared to look at me without your assumptions. Thinking if you don't keep those borders up, you will get lost between them'' Tom said, showing you that he didn't lose his confidence despite your little argument some time ago.

,,Don't think of me as so stupid. I might suck in dueling but I'm not beneath you Tom! I know what I want. In a different world I would be a win for you.'' you said and tried to make you a bit bigger to meet his eyes. His relaxed smile really frustrated you.

,,Of course you would be. Thats why I like you. Me and you could be something special. Is my motive still so self-serving now?'' he asked still standing before you but not in an intimidating way you noticed. More like a friend who tried to talk you out of something harmful.

,,Well yes. After all I'm not interested. And I still have your little secret about you letting your friends sneak out during curfew. I will tell Professor Dumbledore tomorrow if you don't let it be Tom'' you said but not as sternly as intended.

,,Using our shared secrets as blackmail – who is cunning now? Seems we aren't so different from one another after all'' said Tom but you did not join his amusement.

,,No we are not. I follow rules, I treat people equally.'' you said confidently, knowing Tom had nothing in his hands that could harm your reputation.

An unsettled cry reaches your ear and you stop.

,,Thats in my wing'' you said and walked back upstairs. Tom followed you.

✧ ⊹ II ✧ ⊹

,,Its curfew. What are you doing here?'' Tom asked before you could.

A girl sat on a bench and wiped her tears from her cheek. She muttered something about her ex boyfriend and how she couldn't get back into her dorm, because he and his new girlfriend were there. Tom showed less interest in her excuse. With big steps he approached her to bring her to her head teacher.

,,Tom wait'' you said and walked in his way.

,,Its against the rules. Easy as that Y/N'' said Tom. Even though he didn’t care about the girl he still found himself very thankful of this lucky coincidence.

,,My wing, my understanding of the rules Tom'' you said, trying to not make a fool of yourself considering what you just had stated about your loyalty to rules. The way you said his name added more fun at his persuasions. Up to now it sounded always like a warning call but it would soon fade into something more suitable for his expectations.

Eventually Tom gave in and promised to accept your wish.

,,Please don't'' you simply said when your eyes met Toms again when you walked back.

,,I'm not judging your actions. Why should I? But since you are so keen to keep your reputation, you gave me a new secret. And I would like to trade it for a little favor. Just as you did'' said Tom, enjoying this feeling about giving you a taste of your own medicine.

,,Back then in the Pub I explained to you how getting to know someone works. I never thought you would misinterpret it so wrongly'' you said already knowing that you would go inside the library.

Tom lazily defended his actions, he already was occupied with other things in his mind but he played along for you.

,, You're sure this is a good idea. I'm not used doing such things'' you said silently, when you sneaking closely behind Tom, even though he had politely held the gate of the forbidden area open.

,,You'll be fine just stay quiet''. Tom took hold of your hand and walked confidently along the corridor, as if it was his wing that you walked in.

Due to the moonlight the bookshelves shimmered whitely when you passed them. You could only hear your own footsteps and it felt like Tom and you were somewhere completely else.

✧ ⊹ III ✧ ⊹

,,Sit down. I will be right back'' Tom said softly like he knew you needed someone to calm you down a bit. After all breaking rules made you still feel uneasy. He pointed to a bench that stood between some bookshelves from where you could look at a huge tapestry that showed the founders of Hogwarts. The air was cool.

Tom came back with a huge old book. On it laid a smaller one, that he took beside him. He tested the waters and asked you somethings about the founders. You both started to talk about it freely enjoying each other’s knowledge.

,,I have a next secret I would like to share with you. You Hufflepuffs can be trusted right?'' Tom said, his lips almost formed a grin. He seemed to suppress a feeling. Was it confidence? Or was it out of tension?

,,Sure I wont tell. Promise'' you said with a low voice prepared to stay open minded but carful.

For a moment you both shared in intense look. It was as if Tom wanted to read you despite your promise to be trustworthy. It crossed your mind that your odd friend fought an urge within him. But you couldn't really tell what it exactly was.

At first he kept his usual practical attitude he had whenever he talked to someone. Only the last part started to sound strange. For one second you thought it wasn't Tom who talked to you but then you figured, that this person was the actual Tom, or at least another part of him you hadn't seen until now:

,,Since my researches I finally understand myself, what I am, what I am capable of. I read everything from him, one day I will know all his secrets'' Tom said.

After am moment of silence he started to talk about the relationship Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff shared in their lifetime. Loudly he questioned how they could share such a good bond, that was so infamous in Salazars diary, then he looked at you. Although he didn't mention it, you could sense what he thought after his last words. It made your stomach twist. But was it out of fear or curiosity?

You said that you are not the heir of Helga with a chuckle and that you don't live for this amount of pathos in your life. But it was useless, Tom saw something great within you. You couldn't change his mind and I a strange way you realized it did something to you. Being praised and called for the things you did so dearly. So you decided to also open up for him because that was what this night was about. Tom had decided to be honest instead of cunning. He was one of the good ones, it was clear to see for you.

A bit shy you brought a book out of your robes pocket and presented an article that shows your family, who has a little reputation considering healing potions and herbology. It was almost like an unspoken law since the accident in the club to keep your distance from Tom but something made you break it.

You shared your story- that the glory vanished because your parents and grandparents had different interests, and that was completely fine for you. No one should practice something that made him unhappy. Nevertheless, you like it to sometimes research about your family from those better times. You found an ancestor of your father fell in love with someone very smart and they both ended up starting the little glory of you family.

,,I understand you, I do the same sometimes. Having a look in the past can give some orientation for what can be possible. Its like looking in a twisted mirror.'' you said still a bit lost in your memories about your family. After your words there was a cozy silence in the room. Being here didn’t feel forbidden anymore. It felt comforting.

,,I like this thought.'', Tom admitted showing his approval. You looked back at him and gave him an honest smile.

Now you knew what Tom searched for in life, and he knew what you searched for in a partner. And suddenly he became not only the keeper of your secret but also the answer to it.

With your permission Tom read some phrases out of Salazars diary to you and you started to get lost in the way his voice sounded so softly and his eyes now and then flew away from the lines and lingered on you. The words that held such a dangerous ambiguity couldn't reach your mind anymore, it was directed to Tom and the feeling he started to give you. At some point his hand had reached out for yours, he softly pressed it before using his words again.

,,I respect your values. Actually, we are quite similar Y/N. The difference between us is that I'm willing to prefer some people over others. Thats passion, isn't it? When there is this one person who outshines the others-who is simply more important'' he said and led your hand carefully to his lips to savor the feeling of your skin on them in such a way that your cheeks turned hot.

While you had the feeling that you and Tom melted into each other, Tom had the impression to finally wrap you around his finger, now you fell in love for him as well. At this moment you could only see him. Those not so beneficial values of your house would just vanish over time if you devote yourself truly to him. He would take care of it, and of you.

The hold Tom had on your arm stayed while his lips caressed your skin of it, carefully testing how close you would let him be.

,,You can't treat everyone the same Y/N.'' said Tom. He suppressed his satisfaction with you, who finally started to think, that you and him were possible. That only your mind was in your way of happiness.

,,And you don't want to treat me just as everyone else. Whenever I read about Salazars past, I see us. Just give it a taste Y/N'' added Tom close to your face after he had shoved you softly closer against him.

Slow and deep beats of your heart pounded against your and Toms chest, he was so close to you, he could feel how you were. If he couldn't see your pleading gaze, he had thought you planed on running away. But you weren't. Your mind told your body to stay still, Tom was finally in your head. To reward you, he pressed his lips against yours and felt how you fought against your last insecurities, while moving your lips shyly against his.

Patience, was all Tom had to remind himself of. Not only towards you. He realized despite his lust for you, that he was also in some way shy about this new form of intimacy. Still he would keep the control of it for you.

,,Doesn't this feel right? You feel so good Y/N. How can you ever deny us something so good again?'' Tom asked between wet kisses, that grew hotter the more he got lost in the feeling of your sweet lips and tongue that tried to keep up with his pace. It only made it harder for you to answer Tom, who demanded it.

But your shy nods and 'yes's weren't enough for him. Within minutes Tom had pulled you on his lap. His hands caressed the soft skin right underneath your breasts while his lips were attached to your neck to get every little moan out of you, that you tried to hid. You were in a library after all. But now fully consumed by this new ecstasy you moaned every answer out of your mouth he wanted to hear from you.

You looked down at Tom's eyes. They were so dark and yet so clear, that you could see yourself in them. And while you eyed this new side of yours, you also observed how Tom seemed to experience the same with you.

The moment felt so unusual intense that your hands searched for Toms as a comfort, that were still around your ribcage. Before some fitting words of luck could be formed from your lips, Tom pressed his lips against yours again. It felt all so good your mind kept running and your heart beat so fast that you felt like a star that could explode. So you just made him stop.

Back on your spot on the bench you tried to study his feelings. For a second some kind of hurt crossed his frowned faced. Was it love that he wanted or was this just a trap you were naive enough to have fallen into for a brief moment?

,,Have you done this before Tom? Because I have not'' you said, your voice faded a bit away- you were unsure whether to feel pride or guilt.

,,Does this matter? It's what people do when they want I each other. And I only want you if this is what you want to know'' Tom said his last words with a secure smile, his hands brought you to his mouth before he gave them a kiss.

You were back at the same position where you just had started to fall for him again. But now something has changed. Something told you that he was meant to be yours and you were meant to understand him, to love him- because he had allowed you to do so. And Tom belonged to those people that rarely allowed such things- so this means he loved you truthfully, right?

,,We have seen each other’s true self now and we seemed to enjoy it'', said Tom now silently hoping to at least earn a nod from you. ,,Don't back away Y/N. Give it at least a try''. His hand that had held yours on the entire way back wouldn’t let go of you. Carefully he kept his grip around it.

So you nodded. Later Tom brought you to your common room offering you an invitation to a dorm party to give him and his friends a chance to show you, that you and your feelings would be safe with him.

#tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x oc

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cherrysoulth · 1 year

Text

JUMP

💕Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

✏️Genre/au: Non-Canon, Smut, Alternative relationships, University AU

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 5762

⚠️chapter warnings: Smut, explicit smut, Bondage (dominant-sub dinamics, spanking, semi-public sex, voyeur.) Non-sexual dominance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

This is a paralel one-shot to a comming series The library (when I finish one of the 7 in master list.)

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While the professor pulled the upper board down to keep writing, you saw a phone sneak over your shoulder with the screen on. Shifting your sight from your notes, you took a glance at it and had to suppress a scream. The giggle that escaped your friend’s throat and blasted in your head to make you do exactly the same, as she hid her phone away, was the snitch of your mischief.

He turned around and his dark beautiful doe eyes fixed on you. Eyebrow warning for a required silence, then he went back to writing and you bit your lower lip, nervously. Then a little ball of paper passed over your head and landed on your desk.

‘Let’s meet up after the classes.’ The clear and almost calligraphic hangul belonged to Yoongi. You looked behind with an eyebrow raised before picking your phone to write in it. He’d messaged you the exact same phrase but you had been too focused, then distracted, to acknowledge it.

As you typed the emoji, a shadow towered over your desk and took the light coming from the ceiling. You stopped typing straight away but you dragged your eyes from his thighs and crotch until you met your teacher’s eyes.

“A word.” he demanded and moved away walking towards the door as you stood from your place to walk there too. He waited with the door open for you to step outside and then locked the door behind himself. He then looked at each side of the hallway before pushing your back against the wall next to the door, towering you with his whole body. “Such a good student with such bad behaviour,” he whispered and then tisk-tisked his tongue, which made your skin crawl and your slick wet immediately. If it was Yoongi you would have fallen obediently to your knees after that sound. Mr. Jeon leaned towards your ear, “Thank the fact that we are in the middle of a lesson.” The smirk you felt on his words, made your cheeks turn red and you moisturized your lips with the tip of your tongue. His scent, the warmth of his body, and the way his position was only a threat of what he could be doing; it made your breath hitch. “Let’s go back inside and I hope you stay off your phone for the rest of the class. I don’t care that he’s the genius of the university basketball team, I can still kick his ass out of class for disturbing it,” he said, standing completely straight and making distance, not looking at you.

You didn’t even have time to compose yourself from your arousal, he simply slid the door making the room go quiet and walked to the board, waiting in silence for you to take your seat.

You made your way in, eyes not meeting Yoongi’s, whose stare you could feel like flames licking over your skin. You knew your cheeks were slightly pink and, that, he most certainly would notice. He noticed details other’s couldn’t. Bridges, voids, anything in a person’s character and actions; how they interacted with others or how they behaved when they thought they weren’t being watched. He was able to read through those little details to judge who he was dealing with. The same went down on the court and he had his gestures, stares and moves to make his team move with him when he saw his chances with the other team. They called him ace as much as they called him genius.

You could feel his eyes on you as you sat down in your place but you never gave the stare back because if he knew what you and the teacher had going on, even with the character of what you had with him, he would most probably end things with you.

Jungkook boxed, you could see him through your window in his living room, on the next building one floor above, but Yoongi's mind was scarier than muscles. You didn't really know what his reaction could be since he really seemed to act like you were more than sexual partners.

The arrangement was only on that aspect, but the way he treated you when he didn’t have you sitting on his cock without moving as he studied; told you he was at least very comfortable spending time with you. Comfortable when he fucked you against one of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his room, risking being seen by someone outside. Comfortable as he dragged ice cubes over your body, letting the cubes slide between your ass cheeks to watch the melting water drip over your lower lips as you lay on your tummy, a pawn to the casualty of his behavior.

Maybe it was all just your imagination. He had extraordinary control over himself and that was the reason why you trusted him to do non-ordinary sexual practices. Because, how could you trust someone to control you if they didn’t have control over themselves? Yoongi wasn’t sadistic but loved bondage and the adrenaline in the risk of being caught. All with a very calm attitude, so he was simply your match.

Analysing how popular the whole BDSM thing had become from not so well done novelistic material, one had to be careful on detecting predators in disguise of dominants. Not that you practised anything extreme, but things could get ugly if you chose the first instead of the second, because those would not respect your limits or your will. Thankfully, you knew what to ask and how to act to find out exactly what you were dealing with. So, the first time he suggested tying you to his bed you easily discussed the dynamics. Next time after that, he simply respected what you had previously arranged.

Just the day before he had played like a sneaky boyfriend. It wasn’t like you had previously planned it but the role play had come up very naturally. The way he entered the only-woman building like nothing and got to your floor undetected was exciting, even for you.

You had opened the door and acted like you were going to close it on him, but with some muscle he kept the door still, even when you tried to push it, without really putting an effort to do so. Then he slithered into your room, closing the door behind himself and locked it from the inside.

“Yoongi, I want to study. Can you leave?” If someone had heard you, they would have believed it, but he knew by the way you put the lid to your pen over your notebook and how you pushed your five wheeled office chair near the table that you were preparing for his next move.

He got closer to you and tried to grab you by the waist before a little smirk appeared when you moved away from him. Your serious face would tell him you really wanted him gone but he knew better for how you were getting closer to the bed as you ‘fed’ him. He then walked closer again.

“Why so grumpy?” he questioned, taking his time with the steps that led him to you. You raised your eyes and he knew by your silence the bet was up. “Uh…” he murmured and got closer, pulling you towards his body.

“Stop.” you complained, trying to pull away. He then pushed you towards the bed on your back and hovered over you starting to tickle the skin just below your ribs.

“Let’s change that pouty face,” he said as you started to fill the room with giggles. You tried to fight him off but he held your wrists at the sides of your head and you simply surrendered to his will. His teeth pulling your lower lip towards him, was only the beginning of what happened next.

You couldn’t even remember how you had managed to finish your subject and follow your study plan after the way he had fucked you into oblivion. You could still feel his teeth on you, the nibbles and the full mouth pressings. He had left one single hickey on your hip because you hadn’t played the way he wanted you to. Your groin was still kind of sore from his rough thrusts during missionary but in the moment you had simply touched the sky.

Your phone had only buzzed two times, expected from Yoongi, who wouldn’t be insistent when it came to talking. Still, you didn’t dare to look behind you. Then a small piece of paper fell onto your table.

‘Why did the teacher only call you out? He saw me with my phone too.’ He had written down. This one you couldn’t ignore. You looked at Mr. Jeon, who was still writing down and proceeded to reply.

‘I don’t know, mr. SuGa.’ That was kind of mean but you didn’t want to continue any kind of conversation. Even less if it was leading to what you thought. You folded the three finger sized paper back and put your hand over your shoulder for your friend to pass it to him. “Yoongi,” you whispered as the professor started speaking. The paper marched its way back. Seconds later it fell on your table again, perfectly basketed in your pencil case. You frowned automatically and made sure you hadn’t been caught.

‘He gives zero fucks about my team position, like most teachers. You know that already. What has he told you that you came back looking like you’d been complimented more than scolded?’ He had done his writing in a very tiny typo so you couldn’t excuse yourself with a short answer. To Jungkook, it looked like you were taking notes when he turned around to check on his class planning notebook.

‘He told me I am a good student and that I shouldn’t let boys interfere with that.’ You couldn’t tell him the truth. The paper did another travel and a new one was basketed in your case again. You turned to look at him and he was touching the corners of his lips as he gave you a glare from above but went back to taking notes.

‘Was that all?’ You felt his eyes on you again, or you were at least sure he was staring. You felt the pressure of a lie, but what were you supposed to tell him?

‘What happens if it wasn’t?’ you wrote and made the paper do the trip.

‘Depends. Especially when I know he wants in my pussy.’ his note said when you opened it and looked at the back. His lettering was sharp where he had marked ‘my’.

‘What makes you think that?’ You passed the paper to your friend. Unfortunately, Jungkook raised his eyes from the books and caught the moment your hand lowered when your friend took the note.

“Miss Nam, what is that you have in your mouth?” wondered Mr. Jeon, straightening his back and looking at her properly.

“No-Nothing.” Your friend's voice sounded kind of raspy and your eyes bulged when you realised what she’d done.

“I hope the transgression doesn't cause you indigestion.” he said, loud enough for the whole class to hear as he turned around. You wanted to slide down from your chair and let the floor swallow you.

The ten minutes left of class went on quietly but as soon as Jungkook dismissed you all, Reema made sure to pull you with her out of the class and out of both men's grasp, taking you to the nearest bathroom.

“I can’t fucking believe you have both the hot teacher and the basketball ace wanting a piece of you,” she said after checking the bathroom stalls were empty. “Well… the last one got it but… Hot teacher? Hmmm…” she growled and rolled her eyes up to her forehead. The image she was showing you during class was a sneaky one she took from the window of your room when your curtains were technically closed. He was taking off his shirt after boxing and his perfectly muscled chest showed over his grey sweat pants. “Have you had sex with him?” she suddenly wondered. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod… HAVE YOU?” she started spiralling.

“Haven’t seen any more than you have, unfortunately…” you responded.

“What then?” She sat on the counter and a girl entered to use the stall.

“The guy is hot as hell. He caught me touching myself this one time,” you whispered getting closer to her. “And he gave me orders through a message as he watched from his flat.” She shrieked in excitement. “Shhh!” you scolded.

“What else?” she wondered. The girl came out of the stall and looked at you before washing her hands with a slight blush on her cheeks since you were positioned in between your friend’s legs and very close to her face. The two of you scrunch your nose with a smirk as the girl left. “We are lesbis now.” she pronounced and you raised your shoulders not giving a damn before both of you bursted on laughter. “So what else?”

“He might have watched me and Yoongi fuck in my room last night.” you said, remembering that you had had the curtains open the whole time and how you would have sworn Jungkook’s curtains moved at some point. Her eyes bulged and she covered her mouth from an astonished smile.

The next thing she did was ask for details, which you gave her because it seemed like there had been quite a lot to catch up ever since she had been back home with her parents for the semester break.

As you two walked around speaking from A to Z you ended up in front of the gym. She pulled you in and made you sit on one of the bleachers. Yoongi was quick to spot you and give you a knowing look. One of the boys gave him a look while nodding with a smirk but he ended it by giving the guy a menacing stare, making him move out of the way and focus on the game immediately.

There you checked your phone when you felt it vibrate.

You replied to Mr. Jeon while your friend looked from your side and giggled. There was a moment you didn't notice Yoongi staring up at you as you were on your phone but as soon as the training finished, he walked up the bleachers and lowered his upper body to yours, then whispered in your ear.

"Let's go to my apartment when I'm done," he said and you suddenly remembered your conversation. You moved to meet his eyes that were sharp and dark.

"Ok. I'll wait until you're done." you whispered back. Then he bowed to you both and left.

"I mean… I totally get why both but… Girl… You've just arranged two meetings with very little time difference. Do you wanna end up in a wheelchair?" she wondered putting a hand over her chest faking to be astonished. You laughed at her comment but knew the two plans were impossible to achieve together.

"I'll have to cancel the tutoring…" you said as if you were sad.

"Oh c'mon…" she pouted. "Girl, I would rather fuck Mr. Jeon than the player… have you seen his chest? How big he his? I'm betting my ass that everything on him is big," she added shamelessly. The idea made you press your thighs together but you only giggled to her before daydreaming for a second.

By the way his muscles flexed when he punched the bag and how easily he did his push ups, you thought his stamina would probably be very good. The image of him holding your waist and slamming his against it, made your slick drop a bit in your panties. It would be hard to cancel.

"Do you want us to accompany you on our way to the apartment?" you asked as you saw Yoongi get out with his sports bag on one shoulder. You had to recognise how cool he was, over anything else. Your friend nodded.

You dropped her off at your building and left with Yoongi towards his, at the other side of the university. During the walk you could tell he was slightly tense but he didn’t say a thing about whatever was on his mind. He just walked coolly, with a straight posture and eyes fixed to the front. Until you decided to not leave it there. You suddenly moved to face him and stared straight in his eyes as he stopped.

“What?” he wondered. You felt the slight pissed off tone on his question.

“What is going on?” you asked, completely oblivious to the nature of his mood.

“What do you mean?” he decided to ask a question instead of replying, in hopes that you would leave the subject alone.

“You are pissed.” you confirmed, but he didn’t change his expression. “I wanna know why.”

“Ok…” he replied, nodding his head and finally letting his expression change to a much sharper and darker look. “Are you fucking Mr. Jeon, Rue?” The fact that he used your name instead of ‘angel’ stung a little, even if you didn’t know why.

“No.” you answered. ‘Not yet.’ your mind betrayed.

“You don’t need to lie, you know. This thing we have is supposed to be based on trust. If you just lie you are not respecting it-” he began talking.

“What makes you think I’m lying?” you fought back. He raised a brow, disliking the attitude. “I’m not lying. I haven’t fucked him, I don’t need to lie about that.” you said, more calmly.

“You just want to, then.” he didn’t ask, it was the confirmation of a thought. You suddenly felt wrong about it. “I’m not shaming you, hell knows I’m the last one to judge this stuff, but I just need you to be sincere about it. Do you want to be with him?”

“I don’t think I’m following you.” you muttered blankly.

“Do you want to date him? Only, him.” he explained.

“No. I mean, that’s not the nature of whatever is going on between me and the teacher.” you explained.

“What is it then? I’m merely curious.” he clarified.

“Are you really comfortable talking about this?” you wondered, astonished by how cool he was taking the whole thing.

“Yes, I’m not particularly insecure to be jealous or feel threatened. Also, we haven’t talked about not having other partners, so I can’t really complain. I just don’t like being played with or lied to.” he pointed out.

“Oh… Well, in that case. I don’t know. It was this one time he caught me masturbating in my room…” he frowned. “I mean, his living room has views of my room and-”

“Wait. What?” he wondered with a smirk. “Does this mean he could have seen us yesterday?” he chuckled.

“Cool, uh? I think he did.” Yoongi smirked again. “So, basically he told me to look at him and slow down. As I did, he watched while leaning over the glass of his window,” you explained. “It was hot.”

“It is hot,” he confirmed. “So, the teacher likes to watch…?” he gave you a naughty look.

“Uh oh…”

“Is he home?” he asked and you nodded. “Let’s go to your room then.” he pulled you towards his body. “We are not behaving. I’m sneaking in."

He did just that, he walked past the bedroom’s guard as you distracted her with needing a spare pen and then you walked to the staircase where he was waiting. He entered your room calmly, just as he had done the day before and you walked straight to the window to see if Mr. Jeon was matching with the sandbag, without a shirt on. When he stopped and let himself fall on his hands to start doing lift ups, you got slightly distracted. Suddenly Yoongi came from behind and pressed your body with his against the glass.

“Do you like the view?” he whispered in your ear as he pressed your lower body further with his.

“Yes, master.” His dick twitched against your asscheeks while your thoughts started clouding with want for it. He let you go suddenly and grabbing you by the nape he led you to the bed.

“Lie in the middle of it and don’t move,” he ordered. Then started to look for something in your room. He came back with four scarves and started tying you by wrists and ankles to the bed. “Remember your safe word,” he warned before doing the last knot. Then he grabbed his phone and dialled while getting near the window, leaning an elbow in it and looking at the working teacher. Suddenly Jungkook stopped and stood to pick up something from the sofa next to him. Yoongi put the call on speaker just in the moment the other person replied.

“Min Yoongi-sii, how may I help you?” the teacher replied.

“Look down. There’s something you might want to see.” he explained before hanging up.

Jungkook only took a second to gaze down to your room and then they exchanged looks before Yoongi dropped his phone and took off his jacket that allowed the white t-shirt to display his well built chest.

He then walked to the edge of the bed calmly and crawled up to your knees before pulling your skirt up to expose your prune lace panties and then did the same with your loose fitted t-shirt to expose the matching bra. He didn’t look up again because he knew that Jungkook wouldn’t take his eyes away, but you did and he was leaning against the crystal with his sweaty chest and the grey sweatpants, the image that made your walls contract around nothing.

Yoongi placed two fingers against your lips and you obediently opened your mouth but instead of introducing them in the wet cavity, he slid them down from the chin to your throat. Then he opened his hand to rest it over it, before he looked up to Jungkook with a smirk. You didn’t even tense, trusting whatever he wanted to do would not trespass your boundaries. You shifted your eyes from him to the teacher and saw him tense up but you simply relaxed, looking back at your master. Yoongi continued his way down between your breasts and grasped the centre of your bra, ripping it off to free your breasts.

“Hey!” you complained. He raised an eyebrow.

“Behave. Second warning.” he said, staring straight into your eyes. You knew exactly where the first fault had been.

He then peeled off the fabric to reveal your breasts. Without warning he pinched and pulled both nipples with the index and the thumb of both hands before leaning over to nibble around them, making you have to hold the moans. One of his rules was silence unless you were told the opposite. His luscious mouth was making it very difficult for you, for the way his wet and precise tongue kept on playing around but forgot the erected pebbles that screamed for attention.

Then, biting at each side of your lower ribs he put the cherry on top by giving one single and strong lick to each side. The mess between your legs was leaving your underwear ready to be discarded. He looked straight at it as if he had read your mind but it was more likely that he knew exactly what he was doing to you. His smirk confirmed that it was exactly what he expected but the way he put down your skirt to cover it, almost made you want to pull on your restraints.

He then stood and untied you from the bed calmly. As if the voluptuous bulge on his pants wasn’t bothering him at all. He sat at the end of the bed and you waited patiently for his next order.

“Come here,” he ordered and patted his thigh as he placed himself further backwards. You knew exactly what he wanted and it was a thing that you found to be humiliating but at the same time a major turn on. So you obeyed. Sitting down on one of his thighs you started humping on it and he simply let his upper body fall over the bed with his hands behind his head as he watched you doing so.

The friction played a part in your arousal and it leaked onto his denim making him smirk. You couldn’t really know since the fabric of your core was soaked but for that same reason you expected it to happen.

You started rolling your hips harder to increase the contact, knowing that was what he liked you to do but suddenly your own pleasure betrayed your closeness to an orgasm with the sound of a throated moan.

"Stop." Yoongi raised his upper body. "Get off me." The third strike was counted and you obeyed. "On your fours over the bed." You obeyed that one too and he was quick to pull your skirt up and panties down. "I want you to count." He then placed himself behind you on his knees over the bed and a spank was heard before it stung on your right cheek. It was measured but still stung.

"One…" you whispered. Another landed.

"Louder." He ordered mildly.

"Two." you spoke normally. Another followed another and so until the seventh time when his phone rang and he simply stood, walking to pick it up.

"Uh… Professor interrupts." You had almost forgotten he was watching and suddenly felt self-conscious of your image, societal shame refraining you from looking at him.

"Stop that shit." You heard Jungkook on the speaker.

"No. That's her punishment for not following the rules. Now if you excuse me," he pronounced before hanging up and leaving the phone in the exact same place. You felt the mattress take some weight before he pressed his crotch against your core and allowed his upper body against your back, reaching to grab your wrists. Then he rocked his hips, making your whole body bounce, forward and backward as you kept your position against him. Your dripping cavity screaming to be filled by the hardness you felt against it. "You'll be a good girl and take the rest of the punishment, right, angel?" His hot breath against your ear as he whispered raised your whole body in goosebumps.

"Yes, master." you replied, needy for what you thought would come after. Right then he moved away and you contained a complaining moan. The next spank was softer, as if he had lost his interest in the subject and the last two came quickly after, still, you knew your cheeks were red.

He caressed them softly and let his hands slide down your thighs to where the panties were still stuck and patted you to step out of them, sliding them down to your ankles and then he walked around to get near your face. He showed them to you and you saw the dampness of it had turned the centre darker. He placed them on top of the headboard before walking back to the end of the bed again and then the silence was made.

It felt like an eternity, in which you knew that turning back from the position he wanted you to be in, in full surrender, would mean another punishment. He suddenly pulled you by your feet and twisted you to get you on your back then hovered over you pinning his pelvis to yours as he leaned over your body. The shape of his member drawing over the fabric to your skin.

With most of his body over yours he leaned on his elbows at the sides of your shoulders and looked at you in the eye.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Angel?” he questioned raising an eyebrow, his low husky tone making you scream internally.

“Yes, please.” you said with a thread of voice. Your vocal cords felt soft under his influence, as if your muscles and nervous system were only up to feel him. He left a low growl before allowing his soft lips over yours, a slow kiss went on crescendo until his tongue darted through your lips and with it his hips plunged against yours, making your breath hitch with his wave.

“Sing for me, Angel.” he whispered between kisses that slid down your chin and he buried his head on the croak of your neck, keeping the motion of his hips against yours. Your core was yearning for the presence rubbing against it over and over, until your moans turned into whimpers of need. A hand slid down in between your bodies and you heard him unbuckle a button before he pulled down his fly.

The touch of his plump head against your sensitive folds, made you hold your breath and the way he bared his teeth against your throat as he pushed in, made you lose your mind. The man knew how to make himself unforgettable. How to make your body respond to his, the exact way he wanted it to. And as his hips kept on rolling against yours, caging his dick between your walls whilst picking up a pace, you could only mewl and feel him. No thoughts, just him and how your bodies connected.

He knew exactly how to push your buttons and with ease, when he knew you were close to ecstasy, he pulled one of your thighs up to have a better hold and angling precisely he sped up, making you almost scream as the orgasm made your whole being set off fireworks. The release of it, making you giggle a little bit which he matched, still against your throat.

In that position, you finally looked over to the teacher. He was leaning with his head against the glass and one forearm above his head, holding his weight, staring at the image in front of him. Both of you looked gorgeous like that. He thought he'd never be attracted to a couple but it was the both of you in that scenario that made his hardened dick twitch in his pants.

The way you submitted to Yoongi, knowing you for someone with personality and character, fascinated him. And you looked beautifully tempted, with rose cheeks and lusty eyes. He loved the vision of your nakedness under Yoongi. How your bodies were still connected, even if he couldn't really see it.

Yoongi looked gorgeous too with his new undercut and the orange dye that made his loose threads add to his feline gaze. His body was toned and it looked flexed in that position. He looked like a tiger over a submitting tigress. Beautiful.

Your eyes went from delineating his beautiful features to his torso and straight up to the bulge in his sweatpants.

Your eyes met Yoongi as he pulled out and you felt the cold air against your wet core and your moist body. He pumped himself a couple times, using your juices before he stood from the bed again.

Then he pulled you by the ankles and made you turn once you reached the end of the bed. Without much of a warning he pushed himself back in again and pounded you gripping on your hips.

From your position with your head tilted to the side over the mattress's covers as he pounded, you could see him tilt his head to look at the other man that was taking part of the action without being able to participate. The smirk on his face turned into a pleasure face, biting his lower lip, as he picked up a pace.

He suddenly put a hand over your head and you felt him pull you by the hair. You followed his motion, raising your upper body to a standing position while his hips sped up as he kept his hold on you. Your vocal cords singing the tones he wanted to hear, your walls taking the friction to pull you to your next elevated state.

Suddenly he stopped and you tried to look at him, only for him to tilt his head towards the teacher's direction. Jungkook was panting as he didn't miss a detail, but his free hand was now inside one of his pockets as he gripped himself up and down his length. Your walls clenched around Yoongi's cock in response and he smirked.

Yoongi then freed you and pulled out, leaving you with bulged eyes staring at him as he made his way to the window. Jungkook had stopped moving and was following him. Yoongi gave him a mocking smirk and pulled the curtains closed very calmly, taking his time to swing them from the two ends of the room.

Jungkook's eyes bulged too and that was the last thing you saw him doing before Yoongi came back, only lit by the light coming from the window behind you that was a floor-to-ceiling window with opaque glass.

He then put the hand that had previously been in your hair, over your throat and the other on your hip as he paced it back to speed, almost making your moans turn into screams.

He covered your mouth in the exact moment your orgasm hit you and kept his rhythm through it, making tears drip down your cheeks and a throaty laughter reach his palm.

A low growl escaped his throat the first time his pace stopped and he gave deep and slow thrusts as he emptied deep inside of you. He let out a longer growl at his last and then chuckled from pure satisfaction.

When he pulled out, you felt his seed drip down to the sheets but you fell on your rear over them, not giving a damn. Not having strength to keep standing.

A knock on the door interrupted the moment of bliss but you still answered with a good mood.

"Who's there? I'm busy."

"I can tell. May I come in?" Jungkook asked on the other side.

"The door is unlocked." you replied, suddenly realising the fact.

He opened the door and entered, closing it and locking it behind himself. You initially thought his hair was wet from sweat but the clean black sweatpants and how ragged his breathing was even if he was remarkably good at keeping his composure, told you he had hit the shower quickly and rushed to you. Making you scream internally.

His head fell backwards against the surface of the door as he took you both in under the dim light.

"I want to join." he said, lowering an octave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

100 thanks to @moonleeai for her beta work and support 💜

#bts smut #bts au fic #bts angst #yoongi au #yoongi x oc #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #alternative relationships #alternate universe #community

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lovelivingmydreams · 11 days

Note

Questions about powers in your Raven Poetry AU because there is a voice in my brain that is screaming at me to learn everything possible about this world’s magic system. (Sorry if any of these were answered in an earlier chapter and I forgot about it) (and I’ve only read up to chapter 30 so if any of these are answered in a later chapter… yeah.) (also feel free to not reply at all, idc)

So, in this AU, everyone has a power, right? And they manifest/become strong enough to be noticeable during childhood. (how does that part work?) Are there any cases of people who don’t develop powers? Or whose abilities don’t develop until adulthood? Are there any really useless powers/powers with no practical applications like… idk, always switching radio stations at the right time to catch the beginning of a song? Being able to fold paper perfectly? Being able to lower the IQ of anyone within a metre radius of you by exactly 3 points? Does everyone have a completely unique power? Are some powers more common than others?

Functionally, Roman has multiple powers. But technically (and I would assume legally), he only has one. Are there people who technically do have multiple powers? Like, could someone have super strength and X ray vision with absolutely zero connection between the two?

Focusing on Roman, do his different gimmicks have some kind of time limit on them? Would they ever time out at an inconvenient moment like mid-flight? Or do they magically fade away when Roman wants them to, or when it’s safe for the power to disappear? There is an image in my head of Roman frantically trying to come up with a poem for flight while falling through the air, but (based entirely on vibes) it doesn’t seem like such a scenario would be possible. I know you’ve mentioned that he doesn’t tend to do more than two, maybe three powers at once, but that he probably could if he had to… and what would the repercussions of that be? Does conjuring powers wear him out?

Really curious about what’s going to happen with the Fortunas Trinitae (hope I spelled that right) plotline, but if any of the answers to these next questions would spoil that, probably don’t answer? Ultimately it’s up to you if you want to do spoilers though. (Might not even be spoilers, like I said I still have 20+ chapters to catch up on)

So:

Theoretically, could Roman summon powers of wealth creation, fortune telling, and luck manipulation? Or is there a plot device that keeps that from happening? Can Roman only summon physical abilities like the angel wings and fire monster? No, right? Cause he had that study boost thing. Are there any powers that he’s unable to conjure? Can he copy powers? Can he steal powers? (Is there anyone whose power is stealing/suppressing other’s powers?)

Virgil… definitely something is up with his spidey sense. Pretty sure that it has to do with Professor Daniel’s experiment thing, and also that I’ll probably find out once I actually read the rest of the fic.

uh. yeah. I think that’s all the questions I have? If there’s anything else you feel like sharing about the magic system, PLEASE DO. No worries if you haven’t thought super far into it, I just think it’s really interesting! Sorry for the long ask, and again, no pressure to answer. Have a great day!

Hi! No worries. I got so excited when I saw all these fun questions. It means so much to me that the world is of interest to you. So let's get started: (warning long ramblings under the cut)

Yes, everyone is born with some kind of power. Some cause physical changes in the body (like Logan's tail) and those will be noticable at birth. Other powers will present themselves sooner or later. Virgil's by example is a very intuitive power so he'd be using it from very young even if he didn't understand it yet. Roman's power wouldn't show up until he developed a certain way with words and found his passion for the performing and literary arts. In my head the power can change slightly with the personality of the person. The baseline is established at birth. But by example, Logan's curious nature made him understand all the animals. Someone else with the same 'baseline' power might have just developed 'animal instincts' or develop better senses.

There is always a power. Sometimes you don't realize it is a power until later. But developing a power is as much a given as having a heart or a brain. They might not all be equal but they are all there. There are always late bloomers but that's more a late teens situation. There might have been one or two cases of adults discovering their abilities. But that's more not realizing what it was. Like how do you know your power is attracting luck? Or maybe you have healing powers but every time you just figure you didn't hurt yourself as bad as you thought until you are seriously bleeding one moment and then perfectly fine the next.

There are plenty 'useless' powers. One of Virgil's teachers always knows when it's going to rain. There'll be a character who can change the flavor of food. Mundane stuff. We didn't give the main cast any of those cuz we were having too much fun comming up with them.

There are more common powers, you'll find that telekinesis is one of the comon ones. It manifests slightly different in every user though. But Ro's dad does a good job explaining that in a later chapter so that's all I'll say on the matter for now.

There is always a connection. Wether it is obvious or not. You get one power. That power can give you multiple benefits or be used creatively (Like using telekinesis to fly). But there is always a same point of origin. Being able to use multiple powers like Roman does is Extremely rare. So no Superman's in this universe except for in the comics where the artists can take liberty with the established rules behind powers if they really want to. Superman is an alien there cuz it gives a canonical reason to why he has multiple powers that have nothing to do with each other.

About Roman's powers. I'm pretty sure we elaborated on that before, but a refresher never hurts. Roman's powers run on his emotions. That's why he got so powerful when he was upset about Virgil being kidnapped the first time. So falling out of the sky likely wouldn't happen. It would mean he went form high emotional state to perfectly calm in a second. He always knows he's running out in time. He's practiced enough to be able to tell. Speaking of practice, the more practice he has with a power the easier it is for him to summon it. His charm barely requires any energy anymore as he's used it so much to keep his secret identity. Using a lot of powers or fighting for a long time, is emotionally draining of course. He'd get exhausted if he did too much for too long.

Trinitas Fortuna: He could defenitely do that. But they'd all only work temporarily. Maybe that's good enough for TF maybe not. We'll have to wait and see. If Roman can dream it he can do it. It does help if he is familiar with the power in question though. The study boost one was improvised and gets better with time. I'd say his limits aren't in his power but in his own disposition. If he's scared or grossed out by one it likely won't manifest. So stealing someone's power would only happen if it was the only way. And it would likely not be permanent as none of his powers are permanent. We don't have an All For One in this universe and I'm inclined to keep it that way. But there might be a few who can turn other people's powers off for a bit Erasure Head style.

Virgil. You should defenitely read on for that one yeah.

Something we'd like to add... Well not sure how obvious it is in the story. But in this universe, powers have been part of the human experience since forever. Every belief system has their own spin on where they come from. Scientifically it is just accepted as fact with no difinitive answer on the how and why of it. Of course there is an attempt at categorizing cuz we're humans and our love for boxes is only outdone by cats. So there are active powers (not always happening, only when you choose too. Roman for example) Passive (Can't turn it off. Ever. Like Logan). And within those you have a sub category of Body modifications. A power that changes the body of the individual from the standard humanoid form. Those can also be active or passive. There are still powers that lie in murky waters probably with this one, but it's the best they could come up with.

@skeletinmoss anything to add?

#Raven Poetry #Ask #Oooh I loved gushing about this world so much!!!

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misslili265 · 2 years

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hello, sweetheart. sooo, if you finished the series... can i ask dom Giyu, pls?? he is literally the personification of repressed emotions. let the boy get a little mad

Hey Love, it took me too long, sorry, but here it is your adorable emo boy, be a good girl with him today, he is mad... 💓

YANDERE GYIU X F.READER ( AU MODERN)

⚠️ It's a Yandere you can see dark themes

The hands pull the tie that until now was choking Gyiu. Suffocating, he looked in the mirror and reflected all the suppression that he feels lately come in around his mind.

At the sink hands as beautiful as marble, are fixed in support of the body. In the mirror the serious look and full of a whirlwind of emotions when looking at himself the he knows, today will be different.

Being a teacher is not an easy task, he needs to be assertive, patient and donate... always everything he does it's for the benefit of others. But today some peoplegonna be surprised... groups of students causing bullying on others in the school corridor were not only verbally warned as usual, it was possible to see the focused sensei Gyiu, pulling the cowards ones of the institution by their robes, in addition to taking few and good with the thrusts of a daggers, which came out of Gyiu's mouth as he talked about, how they were nothing but trash to society and how they didn't think for themselves but always followed the sheepdog like sheeps.

Those students returned home with their spirits crushed, as they have done several times for other students, today for sure, they would have a lot to think about...

while this, in the teachers' lounge when trying to prepare his own classes, Gyiu has a colleague teasing him, this was part of Gyiu's routine, until now, the math teacher Shinazugawa, whenever he has the opportunity, approaches to Gyiu to subliminally say that Gyiu's function does not perform the same importance in which Shinazugawa works.

Gyiu's mind is exhausted and he makes a decision. " No more."

With a gaze as deep as the Laurentian abyss, Gyiu rises from his chair, words are not uttered, but Sanemi's sarcastic smile is soon transformed into a hard-to-named set, as Gyiu's fists are kissing his face as he punch him, Shinazugawa is repeatedly beaten.

The teachers around, watching the scene in shock, rush to an intervention.

Who separates them is Gyomei, who calmly talks to the two. "- Gyiu, I understand your anger towards Shinazugawa, however, we don't want to set this example for children, please calm down." Says Gyomei gently placing his hands on Gyiu's shoulder which starts to let the air enter more smoothly into his panting lungs.

Shinazugawa is wiping the blood from his mouth with his shirt cuff, and not satisfied threatens Gyiu. Looking contemptuously.

But this time Gyiu take the lead and responds. "- I just hit you because I'm tired of your voice next to my ear, you don't make any difference in my life, for me you're nothing but a dog that was torn apart by someone, look at you, disgusting. I'm not afraid of a damn chihuahua like you. "

The embarrassment that Gyiu's words caused Shinazugawa was enough for him to jerk his arm out of Professor Kyojuro's hands and at that moment the most he could do before heading out of the room was to respond with a grunt. "- Tch."

The art teacher, Uzui breaks the tension of the moment, Gyiu "- I have to admit, Shinazugawa is a torment sometimes. And your punches were flamboyant, hahaha."

Gyiu doesn't respond. He just moves in a way to spoil his neck that snaps back, and goes again to his function. The room is silent, everyone is surprised, no one expected this, not from Gyiu. Who is always silent , calm and serene. But they realized something important this time, underestimating Gyiu would be a mistake, after all, he tame the explosive Sanemi Shinazugawa, and let's say that this is not an easy task.

Finally, at the end of the day, this moment is always special and awaited by Gyiu, who knows that in the following steps, he will soon be guided to your desired presence where he always find peace.

The door to Gyiu's shrine opens, the home he shares with his beloved wife, you.

But he's coming in and you're getting ready, the uniform shows you need to do an extra shift at work, this happens all too often, let's say that Gyiu got tired of it too. Just as he got tired of not having your cozy warmth around when he needs it most, it's at this moment that Gyiu is thinking as he looks at you, and decides for you, you can see he analysing your figure, you get a little stunned, but needs to leave for work.

You kiss him sweetly on the cheek and say goodbye."- Love, I'm leaving, see you later."

Normally he would respond with, "I love you too." Today, Gyiu's response was instead to let you go he goes to grab your wrist. "- Y/n, today, you will stay at home, with me."

You are surprised, and you try to understand. "- Honey but..."

"- I won't repeat mysel." He answers coldly. Gyiu takes the phone out of his pocket and looking into your eyes he is making a call while still holding it close to him. As the phone rings he raises his eyebrows in a warning and says

"- Shhhhhh... hello, I'm Tomioka Gyiu, I'm y/n's husband, sorry to inform you but she is not feeling well and won't be able to do the night shift, I needed call earlier but I couldn't, I hope you understand, thank you."

You are apprehensive.

"- Don't worry, your boss's reaction was just of concern, you will remain here, with me today."

Gyiu's hands now slowly are guided to your face, of course you are slightly scared, but, with you he wouldn't be like he did with everyone around, no, but he wants everything to go as he wishes today.

"- Y/n, put on that dress I like."

In his tone you can hear, he is not asking, he is demanding.

The fear is screaming in your eyes.

Gyiu always so calm has suddenly turned into a domineering man, you think twice before say something so as the things are like this you have to be silent.

As your "boss" said, you leave his presence and goes to your room, where you open your closet, taking from it, Gyiu's favorite dress, he loves when you put it on, the summer dress he gave you, it's comfortable, at the height of your thighs and has a certain transparency, the fabric lightweight is smooth to the touch.

While feels the fabric gently enveloping your body, as you look at yourself in the mirror, Gyiu's reflection it's already waiting, you couldn'thear his steps, with his arms crossed and waiting for you.

Your heartbeat is racing and the questions keep running through your mind. "What happened? Why is he behaving like this?" But today you don't will do nothing against his will...you slowly turn to him, showingyourself as your hands goes through the dress and your your face goes toward his.

Gyiu slowly walk to you. Again, your face is caressed, and your hair get into his game, being entwined between Gyiu's delicate movements of his fingers.

He comes closer and sticks his nose to your neck taking a deep breath and letting out his hot air.

In an hallucinate state he says. "Oh, oh...my y/n... how I want to smell this delicious scent of yours all night long."

Even seeing that Gyiu is different, you can't help but feel the shivers rising and falling caused by your husband's breathing, you cringe slightly.

Gyiu, seeing your reaction to his touch, goes crazy.

Grabbing you by the waist he kisses you as if he were going to swallow your mouth, it's a deep and intense kiss, you practically can't breathe, Gyiu doesn't want care about it, give your way y/n.

His body is thrown with yours on the bed. Gyiu continues to caress you madly, kissing you and using his lovely and experienced hands to run through your entire being and squeezing you all over at the point to make that spots purple later.

For a moment he stops and before saying what he has in mind, Gyiu invite you to look at his sapphire eyes. Oh...those blue eyes are the ocean that drowns you every time you dive in, the suffocating feeling of always getting lost in it is terribly pleasurable.

As an alpha he claims. "- Today you are my y/n, only mine."

Gyiu has a lot of stress to release, and I don't imagine it's little, but with you, all evasion will be in the form of the most possessive and genuine love.

Lucky woman...

#demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #tomioka x reader #gyuu x reader #yandere demon slayer #yandere x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere tomioka x reader #kyojuro x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #uzui x reader #yandere muzan #gyomei x reader #yandere kny #yandere kny x reader #obanai x reader #yandere demon x reader

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falseroar · 3 months

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Murder on the Warfstache Express

Part 4: Putting on the Brakes

((After dinner, all of the guests return to their rooms, expecting to be arriving at the next station the following morning. That doesn't happen.

Link to Part 3: Dining Service here in case you missed it and one for the masterlist.))

After the meal was over, the passengers streamed into the lounge car. Abe took a seat while Happy assured him he would handle switching their belongings between the two rooms, which was fine by Abe. He barely even remembered what he packed, much less believed he had anything in there worth hiding.

The only thing that stopped the agent from going straight there was the sight of Richard and Mack headed that way as well, and Abe suppressed a grin at the sight of Happy doing an obvious U-turn and awkwardly hanging around the bar until the coast was clear. He vaguely remembered Dorene and Illinois joining him and chatting with Benjamin when the bartender returned from presumably cleaning the dining car while the professor went back to her books and papers with the same intensity as before.

Or maybe not the same. Abe blinked, he was sure it was just a second his eyes were closed, but when they reopened the car was clearly darker than it had been only a moment before, the bar empty and closed, the professor and her papers long gone. He was sitting alone in an empty car.

Except he wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t quite as empty as he first thought on waking up.

“Funny place to take a nap,” Wilford remarked, watching as Abe flailed and nearly fell out of his seat.

“Wha—How long have you—” A jumble of questions crashed together on their way out of Abe’s mouth until he sputtered out the winner, “Why?”

“Why what?” Wilford asked. “Why anything? Why is it still snowing out there? We get the point, it’s cold and winter, just knock it off already!”

He rapped on the glass like that would tell off the elements outside and Abe winced at the sound.

“My head…” The detective put his hands to his temples like that would stop the feeling that his head was going to split in two at any moment. “What time is it?”

Wilford hissed. “Yeah, me and time don’t really have what you’d call a ‘working relationship’ at the moment. Most everyone else has turned in for the night, if that helps.”

Abe wasn’t sure if it did or not. All he knew was that the room wasn’t so much spinning as drifting up and down, more like the movement of a ship on the high seas during a storm than a train trundling along on its tracks.

He remembered standing up, or at least trying to, but almost immediately his knees buckled under him, the floor rushing up to meet him only to crash land on a narrow bed.

“There you go, nice and…Eh, mostly on there,” Wilford said from somewhere above and behind him. “Some drinks at dinner tonight, huh?”

Abe answered, his already disoriented thoughts muffled by the pillow so that it sounded like one long grumble. Wilford listened, head tilted to one side until the muttering stopped, and nodded.

“Right, right, you’ve got your eye on me, I won’t get away this time, yadda yadda yadda. Honestly, detective, you act like I’m always up to some kind of mischief.”

Another grumble from within the pillow.

“Well, yes, but I’m hardly the only one. Besides, this is supposed to be a vacation! ...I think.”

Wilford paused, pink-tinged mustache twisting sideways with his mouth as he tried to remember something before giving up with a shrug. If it was that important, he wouldn’t have forgotten in the first place. Probably.

“Anyways, you just sleep off your nightcap and I’ll see you bright and early when we reach the next station, how’s that sound?”

Abe groaned.

“That’s the spirit, detective!”

Wilford hummed as he left, and Abe winced again at the sound of the compartment door closing behind him.

He shouldn’t be letting Wilford just walk away, he should be up and after him, it had only been a few drinks, hardly worse than what he did to himself on the average weeknight—these and a hundred other thoughts ran through Abe’s mind, but try as he might, his body refused to listen to reason and get back up.

Not that his mind was able to put up much of an effort before it gave in to the darkness again, the detective unable to pick out the exact moment his confused thoughts turned into even more confusing dreams, nightmare images tangling with painful memories to form a net that dragged him down, down, down until—

Until, with a screech that seemed to last for hours, the entire train wrenched to a stop and Abe was thrown out of his bed in a tangle of sheets and blankets.

Nightmare and reality blended together, the memory of distant gunshots still ringing in Abe’s ears even as angry, scared voices began to filter up and down the car alongside the thumping and banging as Abe wasn’t the only thing to hit the floor. Including something big enough to make the floor beneath him shudder from the fall. He staggered to his feet and after a few tries found the light switch by the door, only for it to do nothing no matter how many times he flipped it up and down.

Abe yanked open the compartment door and stared into darkness, the ambient light reflecting off the snow outside the now still train through the windows behind him providing just enough to almost make out the wall opposite his door. The slide of the door in its tracks was repeated up and down the hall, along with more than one set of hurrying footsteps, the sounds easy to make out now that the constant background noise of the train was gone, the engine still and unnervingly silent.

“What the hell just happened?” Abe asked, but his question was lost among all of the others in the dark train car, voices running into and over each other in panic and indignation.

“I can’t see a thing!”

“Why did the train stop? We haven’t reached the station already, have we?”

“Ow! Watch where you’re going!”

“Why is everyone shouting?!”

“Everyone, please remain calm!” That last voice clearly belonged to Benjamin. “I’ll just go up front and see what the engineer has to say about all of this. Until then, if you could all just stay in your rooms to reduce the chance of injury—ow!”

Judging by the thump and the rattle of a door, Benjamin had confidently walked in the wrong direction.

Abe sighed and drew a lighter out of the depths of one of his pockets, glad he hadn’t been in any condition to get undressed or he would have never been able to find the thing. There was the scratch of metal and then the tiny light burst into life, not doing much to light the whole car but making a world of difference all the same.

“There’s no smoking in the passenger car,” Benjamin said, still rubbing his forehead from where he ran into a wall.

“Good thing I’m not doing that then, isn’t it?” Abe said, like he hadn’t just been about to reach for a cigarette to make the most of the light. “I’m not big on sitting around while something’s going on, so how’s about you and I go talk to the engineer together and see if we can’t get this train moving again?”

“Or you could simply lend me your lighter.”

“Yeah, not happening,” Abe said, stepping fully out into the hallway and using the action of closing the door behind him as a way to hide how he needed to take a moment and lean against the frame until the floor settled beneath his feet.

At the moment he didn’t think he could have handled the lights coming on, and the sooner he could get everyone to just stop talking the happier his aching head would be. He would have loved nothing more than to flop back onto his bed and sleep while someone else figured this out, but it didn’t work like that.

It never did.

So maybe he was a little jealous when he saw the door to the compartment next to his already sliding shut, Happy no doubt getting back to sleeping or keeping an eye on the compartment across the hall, where Mack was standing outside the door and blinking owlishly in the small circle of light at Abe like someone else who had just woken up from a nightmare.

Or found himself back in one, to judge by the pain in Mack’s eyes when the now familiar snap of fingers came from the compartment behind him and he sighed so long it threatened to put out the lighter.

“Aren’t we going to the front of the train?” Benjamin asked when Abe staggered across the hall and rapped on the door next to Richard’s room.

The door was locked, but after a moment Abe thought he could make out the sound of snoring. Absolutely absurd that anyone could sleep through all of this, but Abe wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He could deal with the Warfstache problem later.

“Do be careful, gentlemen,” Dorene said, the black robe clenched tight around her shoulders barely visible as Abe and Benjamin passed her door, the door pulled just far enough open to create a narrow gap. She muffled a yawn and said, “I think I’ll be getting back to sleep. Some of us can’t be skipping on that beauty rest, you know.”

“Oh, come now,” said the man in the next room over, the one she’d identified to Abe earlier as Illinois. He had his hat pressed to his chest as he leaned against the doorframe, posing like someone who’d shown up too early for the photo shoot. He winked at Dorene and said, “I think you could run circles around the rest of us if you felt like it.”

“Then it’s good for you I’d much rather get some sleep.”

Illinois shrugged and said to the other men, “I’d offer to go with, but three’s a crowd, especially if we’re tripping over each other in the dark. Say the word though, and I’ll be happy to help however I can.”

His smile was dazzling even in the dim, flickering glow of the lighter, and if Abe wasn’t using all he had to keep walking in a straight line, it might have done a number on him.

The last open door was empty, the occupant already retreated back into her room where Abe could hear the scurrying of paper and the click of various trunks being opened as the professor muttered, “Can’t work in these conditions, but I’m sure I can rig up something…”

Only for her muttering to be broken by a jaw-aching yawn followed by a groan.

“Perhaps you should be getting some sleep, Professor Beauregard?” Benjamin suggested, only for the professor to throw what, upon smashing against the wall inches away from the concierge’s ear, proved to be a coffee mug. Benjamin’s voice was notably higher as he continued, “Or not, you’re an adult and more than capable of knowing what’s best for yourself.”

He motioned for Abe to hurry it up and get them out of throwing range, and with some effort Abe managed to get the door at the end of the car open. It wasn’t stuck or anything, he just had some difficulty getting his hand and the handle to connect long enough to do the whole opening thing on the first couple of tries.

“Are you well, detective?” Benjamin asked when Abe had the same trouble with the next door, whose handle seemed to be on the opposite side of anything that made any sort of sense.

“I’m fine,” Abe muttered, resting his hand on the side door and blinking hard at the brilliant white snow out there. The snowstorm from earlier was still going strong, the wind howling as it whipped against the train and threw flakes at the windows so hard they could hear the constant tink of snow hitting the glass. A few feet out and it was impossible to see anything for the haze of white film over it all. They could be within hailing distance of the next station right now for all he could tell.

“If you’d like to go back to your room and get some rest, I would completely—”

Abe didn’t let Benjamin finish that suggestion before he yanked open the door to the luggage car, his spite allowing him to get it on the first try and even carrying him halfway through the narrow aisle between row after row of shelves before the stars gathered around the edge of his vision again.

He paused again, leaning against one of the shelves for support while the former butler caught up. His heart rate slowed, only to pick up again when Abe felt the distinctive tell of eyes on him, the feeling that he was being watched so strong that he whirled back around so fast that the lighter went out on him.

“Damn it,” Abe muttered, trying and failing to light it again until the third attempt, at which point any shadow he thought he saw back near the door they had come in through was long gone. Still he asked, “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Benjamin asked, craning his head to look like it would do any good now.

“…Nothing,” Abe said, but he was on edge now and every shadow drew his eye as they continued on, and there were so many here.

So many nooks and crannies where anyone or anything could be hiding, and here he stood in the middle of it all with a lighter in hand, painting himself in light to make all the better a target.

Abe tried to shake it off and keep moving, hurrying too fast to notice all the things he should have he would realize later, but right now finding the engineer was the priority.

That, and getting the hell out of this car.

Benjamin handled the next set of doors, only to retreat from the engine with his hands raised when Peter turned on them, backlit by the lantern set next to the controls behind him which also illuminated the truly massive wrench he held in both hands like a metal club ready to swing.

“Whoa!” Abe instinctively braced himself for a fight while Benjamin said, “Please be careful with that thing!”

“What?” Peter looked from them to the wrench before hastily dropping it with a clang that shook the floor, his awkward smile so apologetic that it was almost possible to forget the real, genuine fear Abe had seen in those eyes when he turned around. “Really sorry about that, wasn’t expectin’ to see anybody else up here.”

Peter paused, looking from one man to the other before asking, “Why are you two here, exactly?”

“We’re trying to figure out why the power’s out,” Abe said, tilting his lighter to emphasize his point.

“And why the train has stopped moving,” Benjamin added. “What the devil is going on here, Peter?”

“Well, I don’t know what caused the power to go out, but I can show you exactly why we ain’t going nowhere any time soon.” Peter waved his hand for them to step forward to the front of the car where he held his lantern up toward the front window. “Tell me what you see out there.”

“Whole lot of snow?” Abe said, cautious in case this turned out to be a trick question considering there wasn’t much of anything else out there.

“Exactly!” Peter pulled open the door and hopped down from the train, oblivious to the freezing cold or the wind still whipping around as he called for them to follow.

Abe and Benjamin weren’t exactly dressed to be out traipsing around in the middle of a snowstorm, but then neither was Peter and a single shared look confirmed that neither one wanted to be left behind in the car, with or without a lighter.

Abe sank into the snow and tried to follow in the footprints the conductor left behind, the crunch of snow behind him confirming Benjamin was trying to do the same. They didn’t have to go far though before they reached the front of the train, or at least that part of it that wasn’t currently wedged into a mountain of snow.

“Tracks are completely covered,” Peter said in case they missed that fact, raising his lantern to cast more light. “Lucky thing it cleared up just enough for me to see it coming and hit the brakes, else it would have been a lot worse than just getting stuck, I’ll tell you.”

“Stuck?” Benjamin repeated. “You mean we can’t just back out of this?”

Peter shrugged. “Maybe, but then we’d be backtracking for miles just to get to the last junction and hope no one’s coming down the line behind us past that point. Might be easier to just clear the tracks here, but we’d need to wait until morning to see how much of a job that is. That said, if we stay here for now, I know the schedule for this bit. No one else due through until the day after tomorrow, so no need to worry about anyone running into us.”

“And no one to come help us out,” Abe pointed out.

“The next station will notice if we’re not there on time, and surely they’d send someone to check,” Benjamin said. He looked to Peter and asked, “Is there any way we can contact them before then?”

“Yeah, if we had some power.” Peter slapped the side of the train, which was still steaming from the quickly evaporating heat of the cooling engine. “Like I said, it was lucky enough that I even could see the tracks were covered in time with the lights going out the way they did. Just ‘boom,’ darkness, can’t see a thing. Whole electrical system, down. Fuel still works to keep the train moving, but that doesn’t do a lick of good if I can’t see where we’re going.”

“And how far to the next station?” Abe asked.

“Maybe thirty miles or so, going off the last marker I remember seeing,” Peter said.

Abe nodded. “No one’s walking that, not in this snowstorm. Speaking of, can we go back inside now?”

He was starting to suspect his shoes were not as waterproof as he once thought, at least not when the snow rose higher than his knees and had a tendency to trickle in every time he shifted his weight.

“Right, right, sorry, it gets so hot up front near the engine this kind of feels nice to me,” Peter admitted as they walked single file back inside. “You don’t look so good though, are you okay?”

Abe stomped and brushed himself down to get the outermost layers of snow off, using the movement to ignore the question and ask one of his own. “You said the power was already out before you hit the brakes—what can do that on a train? Is there just some emergency off button, or��?”

Peter shrugged. “Darned if I know, but I’ll keep trying to restart everything. Gotta be honest with you though, I’m a train engineer (and conductor), not an electrical engineer. Those’re what you’d call two very different things.”

“Do you at least have more of those lanterns around, for myself and the passengers?” Benjamin asked. “The lighter can only do so much.”

Abe looked at the lighter in his hand and said, “Don’t you listen to him, you’ve been doing a great job.”

“Yeah, there’s a whole bunch of them in the luggage car, up near the front in the storage area,” Peter said, leading the way only to stop short at the door. “But maybe I should stay here with the engine. You’ll see them, they’re right by the spare fuel canisters.”

“That…does not sound up to code,” Benjamin said doubtfully, following Abe back through to the luggage car where he stopped short and said, “And that does not look up to code, either. Why are there so many flammable objects so close to the engine?”

“Because that’s where the boxes of matches are,” Abe answered, pointing to said boxes on the same shelf as the lanterns, above the crates full of fuel, paint, and discount fireworks. “How many do you think you can carry?”

Abe lit a lantern, and between the two of them they carried enough to leave one hanging at either end of the passenger car, plus a few that Benjamin said he was going to take back to the kitchen car for the chef’s later benefit while he walked the train in search of any other issues.

“And then I will try to get some rest, and I suggest you do the same, detective. As Peter said, we can only wait until morning before having a full idea of the situation.”

“Somehow, everyone telling me I need some sleep doesn’t make me want to go to sleep any faster,” Abe muttered, but he went into his room all the same and pulled the door shut.

Hanging the lantern by the bed, Abe changed into some dry clothes while he stared out the window, the situation running through his mind as quickly and relentlessly as the snow falling outside.

“Oh, the train! Oh, I remember the train. How long were we stuck in the snow for?”

Abe froze, hands resting on the top buttons of his shirt as Wilford’s words faded into the back of whatever corner of his mind they came out of, leaving a pause just long enough for Abe’s wide eyes to meet their terrified reflection in the glass of the window.

The compartment door jumped its tracks when he yanked it open, but Abe didn’t waste time trying to close it behind him as he crossed the hall and banged on the opposite door.

“Warfstache!” he bellowed, oblivious to the complaints from the other rooms as he tried the door again, ready to force the lock if he had to, only for the door to easily slide open with no resistance.

Abe didn’t stop to question it, he just barged into the room with a snarl already forming on his lips.

“You’re going to tell me what the hell is going on here, or I swear I’ll—”

This time Abe did stop, as he belatedly realized that his pointing finger was aimed at the only occupant of the compartment’s bed, a stuffed teddy bear wearing a false mustache and monocle.

“What…?”

“He’s innocent on all charges, Your Honor. Well, except for the bribery, drug smuggling, impersonating an officer, and all of the manslaughter.”

Abe spun around and saw Wilford sitting in the sill of the window, in full view of the open compartment door where the detective couldn’t possibly have missed him.

Wilford shrugged. “Other than all those little things, he’s not a bad bear.”

“What are you talking about?” Abe asked, before tossing the teddy bear aside and closing the compartment door. “Never mind, I don’t care. What I do want to know is how you knew about this.”

Wilford stared at him for a second, then prompted, “About what, exactly?”

“This! The train, the snow, the, the—” Abe hissed, a hand to his aching temple. There was more, but even trying to think about that night after the disco hurt even when his head didn’t feel like someone had shoved a swarm of bees in there when he wasn’t looking. “How did you know this was going to happen?”

“I haven’t got the faintest clue what you’re talking about,” Wilford said brightly.

“…What are you doing here, Wilford?” Abe asked, wondering if the train had started moving again or if the floor swaying under his feet was just his imagination.

“Oh, same as you, I’m sure. Just enjoying the journey.”

Abe scoffed and Wilford tilted his head.

“You are having fun, aren’t you?”

“Why would I be having fun?” Abe gestured around at all of it. “We’re stuck on a train with no power in the middle of nowhere! What about any of this is fun?”

“Says the man who can’t sit still without some mystery to solve, some murderer to chase down, some bad guy to bring to justice or whatever it is you do,” Wilford seemed to give up halfway through that sentence, flapping his hand at Abe as if to say he knew the rest. “I thought you’d be more excited than anyone with something strange afoot.”

“Stranger than you?” Abe asked.

Wilford feigned indignation. “Strange? Me? I’m perfectly normal, thank you very much. It’s all the rest of you that’s strange, but you won’t catch me saying anything about it.”

Abe winced, the absurdity of that statement too much for him to even start to pull apart right now.

“Say, Abe, are you okay? You don’t look so—”

“I know, I know! Could everyone stop saying that for two seconds?!”

Turns out yelling didn’t help, and Abe had to sit down and hold his head between his knees until the nausea passed.

Breathe in, breathe out, slow, deep breaths—all easier said than done with his present company, but gradually Abe felt his head start to clear only to stick again on something Wilford had said.

Something strange was going on, he could feel it in the air, and he knew it wasn’t just because of the power outage.

“I need to talk this out, get it out of my head,” Abe said, standing up. He preferred to work with visual representations, boards, notes, photos, all tied together with string—seeing the connections laid out, no matter how complicated the result might be, that always helped.

Unfortunately, he didn’t exactly have the material to work with yet, physical or otherwise. When that happened, having someone to talk to, bounce ideas off of until something clicked into place, that was as key as any clue in an investigation.

“Ooh, I’m listening,” Wilford said, raising one hand only to slowly lower it when the detective glared at him.

“I had someone else in mind,” Abe said, and headed for the door while Wilford shrugged.

“Fair enough. I’ve never been really good at the whole retaining information thing. Speaking of, what’s the name of your partner again?”

Abe slammed the compartment door behind him, and at the end of the hall nearest the lounge car there was a startled shout before Benjamin said, “Really detective, if you could be a little more respectful of the other passengers!”

Abe pressed a finger to his lips and shushed the other man, stage whispering, “Don’t shout, people are trying to sleep around here!”

Petty, but worth it to see Benjamin’s pretty face give an affronted gasp in the light of his lantern, even if another door opened behind him and Dorene said, “Yes, we are. Do you two not have something better to do than making all this noise out in the hallway?”

“Wh—he started it!” Benjamin said, pointing his finger at Abe.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m just going to go check in with Happy, we’ll try to keep it down,” Abe said, heading toward the room that had been his earlier. “Can’t speak for that guy though, you’ll want to keep an eye on him.”

Abe ignored Benjamin’s protests and knocked on Happy’s door.

When no answer came, he knocked again, harder this time, before calling out, “Happy, you up?”

“I don’t see how anyone could sleep through all of this,” Dorene commented.

“He wasn’t asleep just a few minutes ago,” Abe said. “How fast can one man fall asleep?”

“Perhaps you should leave whatever the matter is until the morning,” Benjamin suggested, even as Abe put his hand on the doorlatch and froze.

“Benjamin,” Abe said, his voice odd, strangled. “Do you have a key to these rooms?”

“Why, yes, but if you think I’m going to let you into someone else’s—”

“Get this door open, now!”

The order came with such authority that Benjamin moved forward, keys jangling in his hand while other doors started to open up and down the car.

“What’s going on?” Illinois asked, as calm and cool as ever.

“It looks like the detective got locked out of his room and is making us all suffer for it,” Mack said, the lack of sleep probably having something to do with the annoyance in his voice.

Behind Abe, Richard sounded too tentative compared to his earlier arrogance as he whispered, “Detective, is this related to our…discussion earlier?”

Abe didn’t answer, because as Benjamin moved closer to the compartment door the light of his lantern caught the doorlatch, illuminating the red stains on it and Abe’s hand. Benjamin breathed in sharply and soon found the key, unlocking the door and, careful not to touch the smear of blood, pulled it open.

Abe took the lantern and raised it without stepping inside, the soft glow catching on the pool of red surrounding the body lying crumpled on the floor, one hand outstretched toward the fedora that had fallen just out of reach while the other was tucked inside his jacket where his weapon lay hidden. One look confirmed what Abe already knew the moment he spotted the blood on the door:

Agent Harold Apless was dead.

Not just dead—murdered. Abe, a beat too late, realized he maybe shouldn’t have said that last bit out loud when shocked gasps rang throughout the car behind him.

((End of Part 4. Thank you as always for reading!

Hey look, that thing this fic is named for finally happened!...Sorry, Happy.

Link to Part 5: Buddy System.

Tag list: @silver-owl413@asteriuszenith@withjust-a-bite@blackaquokat@catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @95fangirl @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-star-eyes @shyinspiredartist @avispate @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox @hidinginmybochard))

#markiplier #fanfiction #wkm detective #wilford warfstache #wkm butler #murder on the warfstache express #not a bad bear #he's just made some bad choices is all

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soap-lady · 5 months

Text

Happy...whatever

Okay, I'm back on my nonsense so here's a super long (11k) story in my Hellraiser domestic fluff series.

CW: Cyber stalking, physical stalking, thoughts of violence, kidnapping, profanity, threats of torture, threats in general, and Trevor Gooden.

@tenebrare was a huge help and I couldn't have gotten this done without them.

@angelqueen13art @idreamtofmanderleyagain Hope you enjoy this.

Kirsty’s Abhorrent Admirers

When Kirsty announced her plans to return to college, Tiffany and Elliot had been one hundred percent happy and supportive. Kirsty had a quick and clever mind and it was wasteful for her to languish indoors when there was a world of opportunities for her.

Her tuition was paid for by a trust fund created by her parents after she was born, so there would be no financial burden and after some documents prepared by legitimate medical professionals, Kirsty’s time away could be explained as a Gap Year.

Kirsty was pursuing a career in business, very useful for handling her own finances as well as clients looking for stable investments. It was all very wordy and technical and Elliot renewed his efforts to learn more about the modern world. The Cenobites kept up with technological advances but contemporary business practices, much like social norms, were somewhat unexplored as they were deemed unimportant for their work.

Tiffany was proud and pleased. She was happy that Kirsty was learning new things and moving on from the Channard Institute, just like she was. They joked about being “study buddies” and that Tiffany should visit the campus and see if she’d like to attend Kirsty’s university as well someday.

Elliot tried not to let his personal feelings brought on by old doubts affect Kirsty’s enthusiasm. True, not many women went to university in his day but he could see that attitude was foolish and outdated. There were times he truly loathed regaining his memory; he’d always thought of himself as progressive; he’d even supported women’s suffrage. But his old beliefs were now so old-fashioned. He knew neither young woman needed him as a protector and provider, but he still longed to take care of them as they took care of him. He missed the days when it was just the three of them and he didn’t have to share either girl with the outside world.

You think like an old man, Spencer. Kirsty would laugh if she knew what you were thinking and Tiffany would be ashamed.

So he did what he thought was best; suppress any misgivings he had and actively encourage and assist her in every way he could. He was learning more about computers and was accumulating as much knowledge as he could hold. They were both progressing well in their self-defense lessons and would soon be ready for weapons.He could also listen to her talk about her professors, tell her how proud they were of her, and give her the emotional support she needed.

Everything was wonderful for the first few weeks. Then problems arose when Tiffany and Elliot noticed Kirsty was garnering loads of…admirers.

Men, for the most part. Lots of them.

At first they were just morbidly curious about the young woman who survived not only a massacre committed by family members but a massacre committed by an insane psychiatrist trusted to treat her survivor’s guilt and trauma. Most of them had buggered off when she refused to answer their questions . There was also the icy glare given to them by Tiffany and Elliot when they’d dropped by the School of Business to take Kirsty to lunch.

Had Kirsty been interested, she had a wide variety to choose from. There was a junior professor, a teaching assistant, an assistant at the university library, and scores of her fellow students.

The junior professor tried to impress her with philosophy. The TA wrote her poetry. The lad from the library always volunteered to help with research materials. They and Kirsty’s fellow students were mostly harmless. Some were almost eligible and had many traits in their favor, such as intelligence or a good position. He didn’t consider any of them worthy but had to concede it was her decision.

Fortunately, Kirsty didn’t seem too interested. She didn’t think dating a professor was a good idea, even if he wasn’t one of hers. Getting involved with a teaching assistant could invite accusations of cheating or getting the answer sheet early. The library assistant was nice and funny but a girl named Megan in her Economics class had eyes on him and Kirsty refused to pursue him, citing, “Sisters over Misters.” Tiffany explained to Elliot that it was against the Girl Code of Ethics to pursue a man you knew a friend, or at least a friendly acquaintance, liked.

Then, there was Trevor.

Elliot had taken an instant dislike to him. The man wasn’t unattractive and had blue eyes that seemed to draw female attention. His smile was practiced and his teeth were so perfect Elliot wanted to ram them down the other man’s throat in the hope they would be shat out.

Ahem

That was an unkind thought and though he had many opinions on the matter, only Kirsty was allowed to decide who could court her, even if he were a smug little sod who kept trying to find excuses to touch Kirsty. One time he rubbed his thumb across hers while handing her something. Another time he touched her hair by claiming a leaf had flown into her curls. He would also try to sit beside Kirsty, but Kirsty thwarted him by having her “girl squad”, other female students she was starting to become friends with, occupy any seat near her. Tiffany and Elliot filled this role whenever they visited or went out with Kirsty’s peer group.

If Trevor noticed Kirsty’s less than enthusiastic response to his pursuit, it didn’t stop him from trying to ask her out or suggesting she join a “group chat” to discuss assignments. Any time his eyes met Elliot’s he would grin smugly as if he’d already won Kirsty over. Elliot had also heard himself referred to as “Kirsty’s Dad” or how glad he was that “older people were so interested in education.”

He knew he was twelve years older than Kirsty, hardly an insurmountable age difference, and she’d been an adult when they met. She seemed fond of him now that she’d forgiven him for trying to kill her or condemn her to eternal torture. There was something to be said for experience and he was a man who had been educated at the finest military academy in Britain, so he was closer to being Kirsty Cotton’s equal than some uncouth sod who leered at her with all the subtlety of a baboon.

Sigh.

He would keep his opinions about Trevor to himself until and unless Kirsty asked him directly.

Elliot refused to lower himself by replying to Trevor’s barbs. He would trust Kirsty to make her own decisions and protect herself when he couldn’t be with her. He handed Kirsty her lunch and asked for her input about supper. He was always rewarded with a kiss on the cheek and a “see you at home, Dear” before he and Tiffany left via public transportation. He did his best not to look smug that Kirsty would rather kiss him and not Trevor. Some of Kirsty’s peers referred to him as Kirsty’s house husband and Tiffany was laughing so hard she could barely explain.

“It’s um…a reversal of gender roles, you know?” she managed at last while looking over her homework. “Kirsty goes out, earns the money and you stay home and take care of the house.” Before he could protest she added. “There’s not much social stigma for stay at home dads or husbands any more, not that a guy who used to wear a skirt cares much about social norms.” She winked at him. “Besides, everyone can tell she likes you a lot more than Trevor. Trevor is a douche canoe who gives off creeper vibes. You’re family.”

It never failed to warm him when Tiffany or Kirsty called him family. He missed feeling as if he belonged somewhere or to someone. He’d worked along his Order for decades. He was glad to have regained his independence but he was sorry that they hadn’t survived along with him. They had been good soldiers and he missed their loyalty and company.

Elliot did his best to take Tiffany’s words to heart but the fact Trevor could be around Kirsty for hours on end, away from her family, where he had a chance to charm her or wear her down until she agreed to “give him a chance” and date him made Elliot uneasy.

He doubted that Trevor had good intentions towards Kirsty. Perhaps he saw her as a conquest and would discard her once he’d had sex with her. Maybe he wanted her because he couldn’t have her and enjoyed the challenge. Then again, and to Elliot’s mind this was the most likely motive: money. Kirsty didn’t flaunt her wealth or act haughty but the university she attended was not inexpensive and many of her classmates worked for their tuition or had a collection of scholarships, grants, and loans.

Kirsty did not. Elliot once heard Trevor whisper that Kirsty “must be a trust fund baby” and bristled on her behalf, reminding himself that stomping people to death was illegal. Kirsty was leagues above the women of his class in his youth; she would never be content with a life of leisure, a pretty doll on a man’s arm. She wanted to create her own destiny and decide her future for herself. It was admirable and made him respect her even more.

Their days as a small but ideal family might have continued in a state of equilibrium for years on end. Kirsty showed no preference for any of the men who pursued her, even if one of her friends referred to the young woman’s admirers as a “reverse harem.”

Then the texts started.

Most of them were innocuous. Compliments, snippets of poetry, even a few photos of Kirsty sitting in class or laughing with her new friends. Clearly this was someone who knew her from university.

It bothered him more that he wanted to admit that some unknown git was upsetting Kirsty and following her. It enraged him that someone thought that Kirsty, his Kirsty, belonged to them, as if her thoughts and feelings didn’t matter. He found himself reaching for tools that no longer hung at his waist. No matter. The army taught him how to kill and there were other techniques he had perfected as a Cenobite.

Elliot and Tiffany had just arrived to escort Kirsty to their usual “Friday Night Family Dinner” at a revolving series of restaurants when Kirsty’s text alert went off.

She pulled out her phone, groaned, and then rolled her eyes. “Not this shit again,” she sounded annoyed.

“Is it the return of Captain Douchebag?” Tiffany asked.

The number the person used always came up as “Unknown” so Tiffany had started calling him “Captain Douchebag”, a name no doubt thought up by Callie, who had started referring to her ex-beau by that moniker. It was oddly appropriate for the person bothering Kirsty.

“Yep.” Kirsty read the message aloud.

Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky And feel its total dark sublime, Though this might take me a little time

Kirsty snorted. “Auden. At least the douche is avoiding the worst of cliche love poems, like Shakespear’s sonnets or ‘How Do I Love Thee?’ So he’s at least slightly original.”

“What makes you so sure it’s a guy?” one of Kirsty’s male classmates asked. Elliot was surprised that it wasn’t Trevor. The younger man seemed determined to insert himself in every conversation as much as he seemed to want to insert himself…no that was vulgar.

“I can’t see a girl thinking poetry would work on me. He’s clearly trying to be aloof and mysterious but he’s coming off as a stalker.”

The group laughed and Trevor of all people tried to be the concerned voice of reason.

“No offense, Kirsty, but aren’t you taking this guy…or girl…or nonbinary a little lightly?” Trevor frowned. “They could be dangerous. I mean…” he shrugged, “they could follow you home and stake out your house…follow you to class…attack you”

Kirsty didn’t scoff or acknowledge his concern. “He’s hiding behind a screen and using an unknown number. I keep blocking him but he texts me again from a new number. Probably a coward.” She ran her thumbs over her phone then grinned in satisfaction. “There! Blocked again! That should give us time to eat in peace.” She stood up, then grabbed Tiffany’s then Elliot’s hands and pulled them to their feet. She smiled at the group but did address Trevor. “I’m never alone. I have people watching my back.”

“I for one, would feel a great swell of pity for anyone who tried to harm Kirsty,” Elliot’s cool blue eyes swept over Kirsty’s peers and a few of them shivered. “But not for very long.”

The three of them walked arm in arm as they decided on a Greek restaurant for dinner.

*****

“You know, next semester I might see how many classes I can take online,” Kirsty was saying as she poured Elliot a glass of ouzo.

Elliot gave her a nod of thanks and took a cautious sip before setting down his glass. “Why is that?” I thought you were doing well, making friends…”

The server placed down a plate of stuffed grape leaves and gave them all a professional smile. His eyes might have lingered on Kirsty but she didn’t seem to notice. Tiffany dived in and grabbed four before anyone else.

Kirsty nodded. “Yeah. I’ve met some pretty cool people. There’s all sorts of campus activities…even support groups for trauma survivors.”

Elliot cleared his throat, then tried the ouzo again. The black licorice flavor was a bit cloying and the subject made him uncomfortable.

Tiffany caught his eye, looking sympathetic. “That’s a good thing. You know…for your dad, or Channard.”

Kirsty frowned as she put some dolomedes on a small plate and passed them to Elliot. “Well, I’d have to talk about the circumstances surrounding Dad’s death and we technically are still under a gag order pending the lawsuit with Channard’s estate. I couldn’t say much without getting into legal trouble or ending up in another asylum.” She laughed and there was a tinge of bitterness in it.

“Tiffany was telling me about a phone app that matches you with a therapist and you can remain anonymous,” Elliot suggested.

Kirsty smiled at him and continued. “Good idea. Thanks, El.” Returned to her previous subject. “Don’t get me wrong. There’s some great people in my classes.” She sighed. “But they’re all…” she gestured with her hands. “…normies, y’know?” She looked from Elliot to Tiffany. They looked back at her. Tiffany nodded in understanding while the term confused Elliot but he was still attentive.

Kirsty explained. “Their lives are so normal and mundane. They don’t know what it’s like to lose a family. They have their own struggles with money but no huge tragedies. I can’t really relate to them. All they want to do is…” she frowned as she tried to think of how to phrase her thoughts. “Go out and drink and party all weekend. Go to class on Monday hungover, swear they’ll never do it again. Then they do it again the next Friday. They laugh at me for studying and tell me “you only live once!”

There was a part of Elliot that was jumping up and down. He knew he was being selfish but he didn’t want to share Kirsty or Tiffany with the outside world. He knew it was an unhealthy attitude; that most humans were social creatures and needed the company of other people. That didn’t stop him from wanting to wrap his girls in cotton and protect them from the outside world.

“Then there’s all the attention, especially male,” Kirsty rolled her eyes and looked at Tiffany, who also rolled hers.

Elliot had the feeling he was about to step on treacherous ground. He wanted to protect her but he also knew he had no right to forbid her from anything. “You’re an attractive young woman so of course people are going to notice you.” He tried to be tactful. “Still, the young men around you seem a bit…intrusive.”

“And touchy-feely,” Tiffany added.

Elliot shook his head in disapproval. “They find any excuse to approach you, touch you. Intrude on your time. I know it isn’t my place but…” he placed his hands on the table. “Why do modern men find it so difficult to believe you’re not flattered by their attention?”

“Because they weren’t taught manners,” Tiffany spoke up before Kirsty could but the older woman nodded. “They don’t take no as ‘I’m not interested’. They take no as ‘Try again later,’ “ She grinned at Elliot. “Maybe you could do a TED talk for modern guys or something.”

“Or something,” Elliot agreed. He turned back to Kirsty. “It’s your decision of course,” he longed to make the decision for her, “and you know Tiffany and I will support you either way.”

Kirsty beamed at him and he pretended not to notice that her eyes were tearing up a bit. “Thanks, El,” she leaned forward and took his and Tiffany’s hands in hers. “It means a lot to me that after dealing with classes and weirdos over text that I can come home to you guys.” She squeezed their hands. “You understand me.”

Tiffany nodded, also getting emotional. “Same.”

Elliot raised their hands to his lips and kissed their knuckles. “You are two of the most amazing people I have met in decades,” he told them. He looked at both of them and smiled. “I’m honored you consider me family.”

None of them spoke for a few minutes as they basked in comfortable silence with people who understood them. Elliot was hesitant to say more and hoped his eyes did all the talking for him. He was grateful to have their trust and hoped, in a way, he also had their love. He knew he loved them but it was a nebulous sort of love. Tiffany was the daughter he never had but he hesitated to define his feelings for Kirsty. He wasn’t sure how she felt about him. Could she separate the nightmare creature he had been from the man he was now? He told himself to be patient, to let her come to him.

Then she would smile or laugh at him and tease him and he felt his resolve weaken. He also found it difficult to separate the worthy opponent from the young woman before him. She’d been his adversary. Now she was his family. It was still jarring for him.

Kirsty shook off whatever emotion she was feeling and looked at the menu. “Okay, okay, enough of me being sappy. This isn’t the Hallmark Channel. Who wants to try the souvlaki with me?”

*****

Elliot’s phone buzzed in his pocket as he perused the used book store near the mall. It was a tiny little place in a shopping plaza next door to a cafe. The store was old but clean and he had a delightful conversation with the clerk about the debt modern science fiction writers owed to Mary Shelley, H.G. Wells and Jules Verne. He excused himself, paid for his items, and exited the store to answer the call.

“Hallo, this is Spencer. Is this Tiffany or Kirsty?”

None of the people he dallied with had his number. He didn’t give it out. If they wanted to see him during the week they usually rapped on the door while the girls were away and made an appointment. He wondered if Kirsty was ill or if Tiffany had forgotten her lunch again.

“Hello, Darling.”

He paused. He recognized the voice as Kirsty but she sounded strange. Her tone was too bright and filled with syrupy affection. Plus, she referred to him as “darling”. Kirsty never addressed him with any endearments. She usually called him Elliot, Elli, Spencer, or if she was annoyed or trying to tease him, Captain Spencer.

The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Kirsty was either in danger or in a situation where she felt uneasy. “Are you being followed? Can anyone hear you?”

“How did you know? I swear you have to be psychic!”

He assumed she was answering yes to both of her questions. “Where are you? Are you safe?”

“I just got out of class and had to call you. I was going to head home but I’d much rather meet you somewhere.”

Someone was following her and she didn’t want to lead them home. They were close enough to hear her conversation so she was speaking to him in code.

Anyone who didn’t know her well would miss the slight tremor in her voice, the way it was pitched higher than normal.

Kirsty Cotton, the young woman who’d escaped his Order twice, was afraid.

Elliot’s concern for her melted into anger. His skin felt hot and his blood roared in his ears. He wanted to slice this person’s stomach open and strangle them with their own intestines. He wanted to crack their skull open and feed them their own brain. He wanted-

Kirsty’s voice cut through the haze of anger surrounding him. “I really need to see you. Where should I meet you?”

He looked around. “I’m near the shopping mall. It’s rather crowded today so it’ll be easy to give someone the slip. Don’t take any side streets. You could get lost in a cul-de-sac. Take the most public roads you can. I’ll meet you near the soft pretzel place you like. Park on the third level of the parking garage. It’s the most well-lit. If nothing else we can take the bus home and pick up your car later. Just don’t leave anything inside and we’ll let security know why it’s there. Be safe, Kirsty.”

“I will, Darling. See you soon.”

*****

Kirsty met him fifteen minutes later. She must have sped all the way there but it was hardly the time to lecture her about traffic laws. She surprised him by wrapping her arms around him as if he’d disappear if she let go. Elliot stiffened at first then allowed himself to relax and hold her. He rubbed her back in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

Eventually he reluctantly released her and stepped back. She stopped hugging him but still held his hand. Her eyes were huge, pupils dilated, and tinged with red. He imagined she either cried on the way over or it was a very near miss.

“Is he or she still following you?” he asked and then inwardly cringed. That was hardly a diplomatic thing to ask but he felt it was important to know.

She looked unsure. “I don’t know. I kept making weird turns to make it harder for him to follow me but he might have put a tracker on my car.”

Him. So it was a man, one of the idiots from class or a professor who thought they were entitled to her time and attention. Disgusting. In his day women might have had to worry about being accosted by a stranger on the Tube but any man of honor knew to take his defeat and withdraw once being rejected. Really, these modern men continued to disappoint him.

“We’ll thoroughly search your car once we’re safely home.” Really, this was a world that sent people to orbit the earth and cure diseases yet used this wonderful technology to more efficiently stalk a woman who was clearly uninterested.

Kirsty continued to look at him. Her hand trembled, her lips wobbled and he dearly wanted to put her in his pocket and keep her safe. That, or bash the idiot’s brains in. But that response might get him arrested. And probably banned from the mall. He looked around.

“I believe near the west end of the mall is a store that recently went out of business. If I recall correctly there was a bench in front of the store where we could sit and talk.”

She nodded in agreement, then frowned. “Isn’t that a little isolated?”

He shook his head. “Usually, yes, but it’s also near the security office. We should be all right.”

*****

They made their way to the abandoned store, Kirsty holding his hand the whole way. It bothered him that this brave, confident girl was reduced to clinging to him due to fear. He imagined it had reminded her of running from her disgusting uncle, or perhaps his Cenobite persona. He selfishly hoped it was the former.

After they had sat down he turned to her and asked, “Would you like to tell me what happened? You can take your time of course.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when she wrapped herself around him and began to weep, shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

His neck felt wet and he assumed she must be crying. It shamed him to admit it but he enjoyed the feeling of her arms around him. He rubbed her back and let her cry, occasionally murmuring, “it’s all right. Let it all out. I’ve got you.”

After five minutes she let go of him and he was finally able to reach into a pocket and pull out a handkerchief. She thanked him and wiped her face. He kept an arm gently draped across her shoulders and she leaned against him.

His conscience pricked him and he wondered if he were somehow taking advantage of the situation. “Would you like to talk about it? Or if you prefer, we can go home and you can speak to Tiffany if you’d be more comfortable talking to a fellow lady…”

Kirsty shook her head and managed the tiniest of smiles. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

He felt warmed by her belief in him once again. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She took several deep breaths to calm herself and then began. “Well, I started this yoga class before lunch. You know, with Parvati and Ilsa? Well, I was taking a shower and I thought I heard a man’s voice.”

He ignored the shower and focused on her voice. Elliot swallowed his anger and asked, “a custodian, perhaps?”

She frowned and leaned away slightly. “I thought so too at first but the custodian for the women’s locker room during the day is a woman. A man only cleans it when the college closes down at night.”

Elliot nodded to show he was still listening and she continued.

“I dressed as fast as I could and walked near the exit with my keys sticking up between my fingers. I figured if someone tried to attack me I could jab them with my keys.”

He dipped his head in approval. “A sensible precaution. Well done.”

“Well, then I heard women’s voices. They were probably wondering what the guy was doing there and he left. They saw me and,” Kirsty took another deep breath, “and said the guy was probably a pervert and it was dangerous to be alone, so they walked me to the cafeteria and we had lunch.”

“Very clever, all of you,” he approved.

She just shrugged. “Class was fine and I’d almost forgotten about the guy until I was leaving class. The business building is pretty old and near the back of campus. There’s this covered sideway which has hedges on both sides. It’s pretty, but-”

“Isolated,” he finished.

Elliot knew she could protect herself. She was clever and brave and a fierce fighter. She was learning hand to hand combat with ease but had her weaknesses like everyone else. He was beginning to wonder if she needed a bodyguard; the thought that she was followed, even to the women’s changing room worried him. He wondered if she would allow him to accompany her to class. If not him perhaps they should consider hiring a professional. Better safe than dead.

Kirsty rubbed the back of her neck and gave him a rueful smile. “Yeah. You know how the hairs on your neck stand up when you’re scared or think you’re in danger?” He nodded and she nodded back. “So that happened. I could hear and feel someone following me. I didn’t want to risk looking back to see them.” She gestured with her hands. “I didn’t want to walk faster and let them know I knew they were there so I pulled out my phone and called you. I figured you could come meet me or I could meet you and if they tried anything there would be a phone record.”

She was so very very clever. He couldn’t help but admire that about her, even if it had been frustrating for him when he was the Pontifex Inferi.

He spoke softly and gently to her, afraid he might spook her. “Forgive me for saying this but…this incident…it must have felt like…”

Kirsty pulled him close and put her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were dark and haunted. “Yeah, I know. It felt just like when Frank was wearing Daddy’s skin and hunting me through the house. I thought I was gonna die, just like back then.”

Even though it hadn’t been his intention, he was glad the arrival of himself and his Order had spared her something vile. “I’m sorry, Kirsty.”

It wasn’t his fault Frank was such an unrepentant bastard but he was still furious at the man for attempting to subject Kirsty to his perverse lust. He too was a lustful creature, in life and in service to Leviathan but the thought of coercion disgusted him. Now another man was making Kirsty feel unsafe and he burned with the desire to inflict any and all tortures he could imagine upon the filthy creature.

Kirsty gave him another side hug and looked up at him. “Crying makes me thirsty.” She managed a smile and they both pretended it was real. “How about a latte at Nova Novak's?”

*****

They ended up having not just lattes but elderberry scones as well. They chatted about nothing about consequence and he even succeeded in making her laugh. She was beginning to relax when she stiffened and sat up straight, looking off into the distance.

“Don’t look at him directly,” Kirsty warned him, “but I think I just saw Trevor.”

“Does he work here?”

Kirsty shrugged. “Nah. Trevor thinks he’s too bougie to work at a mere mall. His friend Brent works at a phone kiosk.”

Elliot mentally ran through all the information she had given him about Trevor. Pompous ass, entitled git, yes…opinionated prat with unknown designs on Kirsty.

Wait.

“Didn’t you say someone kept texting you from different burner phones?” he asked her. He tried to both look at and not look at Trevor.

Kirsty stopped trying to observe Trevor with her makeup mirror and stared at Elliot, wide-eyed. “Having a friend who works for a phone carrier would make it easy to get a new phone. He could just trade in an old phone for a new one.”

It was both clever and disgusting. If he paid cash for each phone it would make them hard to trace and his accomplice could help him dispose of old phones by recycling them. Many carriers had a program where people could donate old phones. Even if a phone could be traced, it could not be traced back to Trevor.

“Interesting,” he mused aloud, “and if we hadn’t just coincidentally been here today, we might not have known for weeks or months.”

There was a clatter as Kirsty rose to feet so fast she made her chair wobble. Elliot could see her intent; she was about to go to the phone kiosk and confront Trevor publicly, perhaps even attack him. He could not let that happen.

“Kirsty, don’t!” he firmly grabbed her hand and shook his head at her once he saw he had her attention. He softened his voice. “Don’t. Please don’t. Not here.”

“Why-” her first impulse was to dash off and take control of the situation and force Trevor to confess. Then she realized people were watching and she sat back down, eyes narrowed. She was tempted to tell him to fuck off but stopped herself. Elliot might have some good advice for her so she decided to hear him out. She lowered her voice and asked through gritted teeth. “Why the hell not?”

Kirsty was brave, clever and resourceful. She was good at improvising on the spot but she was also impulsive and that got her into trouble. He wished he still had his chains and a convenient place to hide bodies. Trevor would be strung up for all to see and Elliot would have made a necklace out of his ears for Tiffany and his hide would be boots for Kirsty. Now that he was human and only had human means of punishment he would have to work within the law. To do otherwise could risk his family.

He also lowered his voice. “Because as enjoyable as it would be to confront him or attack him, this is neither the time nor the place. You have scores of witnesses and you can almost be assured there would be video evidence online. Plus, someone would call security and you could be arrested. That would not be good for your academic career.”

Elliot gave in to the urge to grab her hand. “I can understand your desire for revenge. I would feel the same way if someone was stalking me for whatever reason.” He wasn’t quite pleading with her. “But we must be cleverer than Trevor. Document everything. Someone with his arrogance would cock it up sooner or later and expose himself publicly.”

Kirsty bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Expose himself, huh?”

He realized what he’d said and flushed. “Not remotely what I meant.” He offered her his hand and helped her to her feet. “We’ll need a plan and we’ll make one together. That way we can figure out how to make Trevor incriminate himself.”

*****

The next two weeks were relatively peaceful. Aside from a few “Who the hell were you talking to?”! texts Kirsty’s “mysterious stalker” more or less left her alone. Between Elliot, Tiffany, a temporary bodyguard named Beatrix, and Kirsty’s female classmates, she was never alone. She was starting to relax and enjoy her education again. By contrast, Trevor looked increasingly frustrated every time Elliot caught a glimpse of him. He supposed Trevor’s grand plan was failing spectacularly. Amateur. Elliot had cut his teeth on books by Tacticus and Sun Tzu. Some plebeian with a mid tier education didn’t stand a chance.

Kirsty’s college friends thought she was being harassed by an abusive ex and thus did everything in their power to keep her safe. They also kept a close eye on anyone trying to interact with Kirsty and it helped Elliot’s cause to have a dozen other eyes helping with surveillance.

Tiffany had come with Elliot to accompany Kirsty home. Kirsty’s friend Ilsa had spotted the girl and smiled at her, sliding across the bench to make room for Tiffany and Elliot. “Hey, sis!” She addressed Tiffany. She looked Elliot over and winked. “Hey, zaddy.”

“Er…hello, Ilsa,” he smiled at her. Ilsa blushed.

Trevor looked annoyed, as he always did when any of the women in their circle showed him any positive attention. “Please. Like he knows what it means.”

Tiffany answered before Kirsty or Elliot could. “Yes he does. I’ve been tutoring him in Gen Z.” She gave him a side hug. “He’s such a fast learner.”

Elliot patted her shoulder. “Thank you for educating an old man such as myself, poppet.” He smiled and she smiled back. “I quite literally learn something new every day.”

Trevor once again interrupted a conversation that didn’t need his input. “Is one of those things how to be a pedophile?”

Kirsty and Tiffany glared at Trevor. Most of the people at the table stopped talking and glared at Trevor. He found himself greatly outnumbered and instead of apologizing and politely withdrawing he continued to speak.

“Oh, come on!” he went on. He gestured at Kirsty. “She’s barely old enough to drink!” He then pointed at Tiffany, who stared at him in shock. “And she’s only fourteen! And he lives with both of them!”

“And what’s your point?” Everyone looked at Parvati, who rarely spoke up. She looked a little self-conscious but continued. “He’s Tiffany’s family. Kirsty told us all he’s her only living family. I doubt they share a room.”

“We don’t even share a bathroom!” Kirsty was quick to defend Elliot, who had decided the wisest thing to do was keep his mouth shut and let the women in his life talk. He felt a great sense of pride and gratitude that he didn’t have to ask the ladies in his life to defend him, they did it on their own.

“Everyone has their own bathroom. And their own room.” She looked Trevor over and didn’t even try to hide her contempt for him. She decided to publicly embarrass him, just as he was trying to do to Elliot. “Really, what’s your problem with Elliot? Why are you starting shit when he’s never done anything to you?” She scoffed. “What, are you jealous you’re not living with a fourteen year old?”

Even the other guys in the group were snickering at Trevor and he realized he wasn’t going to win over public opinion. So he decided to go on the attack.

“Unlike your roomie, Kirsty, I don’t have a taste for jailbait,” he sneered at Elliot. Goddammit, Spencer was such a cock blocker! He thwarted every attempt he made to ask Kirsty out and poisoned her mind against Trevor. Now the asshole was poisoning all his friends against him.

“So keep your creepy uncle pedo vibes to yourself, Spencer, and-”

No one knew what else he was going to say. Before he could continue (swore everyone who saw it happen) he was down on the ground with the wind knocked out of him.

Tiffany stood over him. No one remembered seeing her stand up, much less punch Trevor in the stomach. It was a very good shot and Elliot and Kirsty were secretly impressed. Shocked, but impressed.

The young blonde brandished a fist. “Come at my family again. See what happens to you.”

Before he could stand up she turned and walked towards Kirsty’s car without stopping to see if the rest of her family was following her. They scrambled to their feet and fell in step behind Tiffany. Kirsty might have accidentally on purpose stepped on Trevor’s leg. Elliot definitely gave the other man a triumphant smirk as he passed his prone form.

“That was quite a punch, Tiffany,” Elliot said as they walked to the car. “But next time, don’t tuck your thumb into your fist. You could break it.”

*****

Two days later Trevor was nowhere to be found. He’d skipped all his classes and hadn’t answered any texts. Even his best friend Brent had sent a message to the group chat asking if anyone had heard from him. No one remembered adding him but they all promised to let him know if anyone had heard from Trevor.

Elliot was blissfully unaware that Trevor was missing and would not have cared if he’d known. He’d had a “morning visit” with a neighbor, who was kind enough to drive him to the library to check out some books about automobile restoration. He then had lunch with and then “afternoon delight” with another neighbor and went home feeling quite satisfied.

He began to worry when Kirsty texted him that she’d be late and couldn’t pick up Tiffany so he would have to make sure she took the bus home.

He’d texted Tiffany to let her know and hadn’t received a reply. That surprised him. She was always on her phone and after the incident with her first date she kept it charged and they’d increased her cellular plan. They’d also installed an app that would let them, with Tiffany’s permission, track her if they hadn’t heard from her after a certain amount of time.

Had a teacher confiscated it? Tiffany had been careful not to text in class but accidents happened. It could have been damaged but if that had happened she would have texted from Callie’s phone to let them know. She had before.

This wasn’t like Tiffany and he was growing worried. Kirsty might not be his direct responsibility but Tiffany was and he decided he was going to find her.

He pulled out his own phone and activated the tracking software. It showed Tiffany’s phone was stationary, if slightly off of school grounds.

Well, he wasn’t going to sit around and worry. He was going to take action…by taking the bus down to Tiffany’s school.

*****

Tiffany had told him about a shack just off the school campus. The school had once used it as a garden shed for agriculture classes but after the school had been renovated it was discovered that the building was technically not on school grounds but on public property. The renamed “squatters shack” sat just off of the school campus and was used by the occasional homeless person but also by students and (rumored) by teachers to either get high or get laid. It was forty foot by forty foot (twelve meters by twelve meters) and quite roomy.

Her phone signal was coming from there. The front entrance faced the street but there was also a back entrance with a ramp for when the shack contained large sacks of fertilizer that needed to be removed via wheelbarrow.

Elliot listened at the door and heard two voices. One was high-pitched, the other lower and gruff. He looked around for something he could use as a weapon and found an old rake. The metal bits were rusted but the handle was made of solid wood and barely rotted. It would have to do.

The building looked old and the door was closed but he doubted it had a deadbolt. One good kick should do it.

He braced himself and kicked the door open, sending dust and splinters everywhere. His voice briefly regained the strident military cadence it once had. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Elliot brandished the rake then stopped, blinking in shock.

This was not at all what he was expecting.

Instead of coming to rescue his teenaged ward he’d stumbled across a tall bulky man trying to hoist a familiar twit with a pulley. Under the man was a large metal tub half filled with water. Clearly some sort of water torture was the order of the day, the victim was perhaps half a meter above the water.

Trevor Gooden, looking slightly worse for wear, was tied up with and suspended by hooks from chains. Unfortunately they only pierced his clothing and not his skin. The man’s formerly expensive shirt was in tatters but the denim of his jeans was strong enough to bear the weight of the chains; otherwise Trevor would have fallen into the tub and drowned.

He brandished the rake handle at the stranger. “Let him go,” he demanded. He sighed inwardly as he prepared to save the life of someone he couldn’t stand.

The stranger looked at him. They wore what looked like a gas mask over their face, a little more modern than the ones he was used to. They wore all black, even down to their gloves and thick black wellies. The figure shook its head. “No. This worm has offended and attempted to dishonor the Sunset Queen and must be punished. He has invaded her privacy. He has harassed her. He has attempted to keep tabs on her by attaching a tracker to her vehicle.” The person’s voice sounded male, its tones reverberating throughout the small room. Trevor begged for mercy and Elliot felt confused.

“Sunset…do you mean Kirsty?” Elliot asked. The person nodded. He took a deep breath and tamped down his anger. This disgusting creature thought he had a right to Kirsty! But no, he wouldn’t stand by and let the sod die, even if he deserved it. He did not want the police poking around the house or in their lives. Again. Kirsty and Tiffany did not need their names in print or on television again, even though that Summerskill person was rather nice. “Thank you. We’ll find the tracker and remove it but you don’t have to become a murderer to protect her.” Tempting as it was in this case.

“Look, Spencer, I know we’re not friends but even you can let this freak kill me!” Trevor shouted.

Yes, Elliot could, but he wouldn’t. Not when the consequences could affect his girls.

Elliot tried to be persuasive and calm. “Kirsty would not want anyone to die, even a disgusting piece of human garbage like Trevor Gooden-”

“Hey, fuck you, Spencer.” Trevor spat out.

“Get in line, Gooden,” Elliot countered and then ignored the man in chains to address the captor. “Please. Consider how this would affect her.” Kirsty would be furious if anyone died in an ill-conceived attempt to protect her. “Let him go.”

The figure seemed to consider Elliot’s words and then nodded.“Whatever you say,” and started to release the chains.

Trevor screamed like a toddler when his face touched the water and Elliot shouted, “Not like that! Don’t drown him. Just release him. Please.”

The person shrugged again, then nudged the water tub out of the way with their foot before quickly letting the chains go. Trevor hit the ground in an undignified heap and the chains loosened enough for him to release himself. He tore the hooks out of his remaining clothes and threw them at Elliot and the figure in black. They missed of course and if the situation wasn’t so dire Elliot would have laughed.

Trevor scrambled unsteadily to his feet and reached for Elliot’s rake. “Give me that. I’m gonna ram it up this dickhead’s ass.”

Elliot held it out of his grasp and kept his tone commanding. “I think you should leave now, Trevor, while I can hold him off.” He pointed at the other man’s clothing. “You look like you lost a fight and he’s twice your size. Run while you can.”

Trevor looked like he wanted to argue but even though he was free he was still outmatched. Probably a coward as well. Gooden was the type of man who preferred to hide in the shadows to stalk women because he was powerless and cowardly. He was hardly the type to win against a larger opponent. Finally he fled, giving the chunky person a wide berth.

Once he was gone Elliot heaved a sigh and approached the person. Once they were close he reached out and booped them on the nose. “This was not the plan, poppet.”

*****

After Tiffany had returned everything she’d borrowed and they’d righted the potting shed, the two of them went to a small independent diner that served very good burgers and chips. They also had a rotating menu of original milkshake flavors and so Elliot decided to indulge in a chocolate cayenne shake while Tiffany had a white chocolate blackberry one. After the server had left their order and his number under Elliot’s glass, the two were left to talk.

Elliot brought the glass from his lips and drank from it. He never drank from a straw, too wasteful. Plus he didn’t want to look like an idiot when the liquid was too thick for the straw.

Tiffany had no problem looking like a fish on dry land and he tried not to smile at her. What she had attempted was dangerous for everyone involved.

He set down his glass and looked at Tiffany. “I had thought that we had a plan to deal with the Trevor problem.” He was trying to sound stern and angry but the faces she was making trying to suck her milkshake through a straw were funny. “We were going to act out our plan thoughtfully and only if he targeted her again.”

She nodded and looked a bit ashamed as she pushed her glass away. “What happened?” he demanded.

Tiffany sat straighter and looked him in the eye, not ashamed or regretful. Determined. “I swear I was gonna follow the plan.”

He must have looked skeptical because she hastily added, “I was! But…he went after me, Elli!”

Elliot froze and looked her over again. Her skin was pale, eyes opened wide and eyebrows raised. Her hands shook marginally and her pupils were dilated. She was afraid.

“Explain it to me,” his voice became gentle and he nearly reached out to comfort her but stopped when she flinched.

Tiffany nodded. “I wasn’t expecting him to come looking for me, but like I said, he put a tracker on Kirsty’s car.”

He frowned. “I thought your school had a security system, guards, and a closed-circuit camera system. I mean,” he shrugged, “it was highly touted in the pamphlet.”

She just shrugged. “My school is expensive but they spend money like it’s cheap. Most of the cameras are fakes just for show. Only one guard patrols the school and the other guys are sleeping or pretending to watch the cameras.”

“We’re being overcharged,” he muttered.

Tiffany continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “But everyone knows about the old potting shed and weak spots in the fence. So anyone could get on school grounds if they had any brains at all.” She took a deep breath. “And Trevor’s smart but lazy.” Maybe he found the weak spots in the fence by accident. Maybe he knew where to look.”

Elliot was beginning to wonder if Trevor had been stalking Tiffany as well, hoping the young girl was Kirsty’s weakness. He clearly needed to step up her self-defense training if people like Trevor were being so blatant. He didn’t think it was the time and clearly his poppet needed to talk.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I was on my way to the drama room because Mrs. Singer wanted me to help organize and pack up some old costumes. I heard Trevor’s voice and figured he thought he could get to Kirsty through me.”

Elliot once again felt anger and outrage sweep over him. Kirsty was a grown woman and he knew she could easily handle Trevor. Tiffany on the other hand was underaged and was ostensibly his responsibility, legally or morally. The fact Trevor had targeted his dau-his ward made him wish he’d broken the lad’s neck and damn the consequences. That tosser must be angry that Tiffany defended him and made him look like the fool he was in front of others.

“Um, Elli?”

Tiffany’s voice interrupted his murderous thoughts and he blinked, focusing on her. “Yes, poppet?”

She was pointing at his face and looked afraid. Afraid of him. “Your…eyes.”

She slid a makeup mirror across the table to him, letting go of it before his fingers could touch it. He opened it and looked at his reflection. He tried not to gasp out loud. His normally blue eyes had turned as black as they had been when he was a Cenobite.

Elliot closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to calm himself. After a few minutes he looked in the mirror again. Blue. Good.

He slid the mirror back towards Tiffany, who was also taking deep breaths to calm herself. “I…I didn’t know you could do that,” she stammered.

“Neither did I.” He thought for a moment and then said, “It must be an after effect of my…former occupation.” He looked across the table at her and said, “I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologized.

Tiffany shook her head. “I trust you.” She didn’t sound very convincing and said again, “I trust you, Elli. It was just a little bit of a shock, you know? Especially after today.”

He nodded and she continued her story. “Anyway, I heard him calling out for me. So I hid. When he was looking for me in the wardrobe trunks I doubled back around and hit him with a dressmaker’s dummy and knocked him out. Then I put him on a cart and wheeled him out to the potting shed. I figured no one would hear us out there.”

Elliot nodded in approval. He was very impressed with her improvisation. “Clever girl. Well done.”

She blushed under his praise and went on. “There were these bits of costumes from when they did a play about the Grim Reaper where the guy playing the Grim Reaper used a voice changer. There were also these construction stilts? To make the guy taller. They wanted the Grim Reaper to look seven feet tall and the guy was only five seven…”

He blinked in confusion and Tiffany could see she was losing her one person audience. “Anyway, I put on some padding and the costume pieces, grabbed a mask and the voice changer and decided I’d scare him into confessing to harassing Kirsty.” She waved her hands in a helpless gesture and sighed.

“But…” he prompted but she didn’t speak. “What happened, Tiffany?”

She spread her hands and gently slapped the table. “I don’t know! I mean, I found that tub but the pump outside wasn’t working right so I couldn’t fill it all the way. Plus,” she seemed exasperated. “He was heavier than I thought he’d be and even though I found some hooked chains and a pulley it was still really hard to pull him!” Tiffany sighed and looked at him. “I was debating whether or not I should just tie up the chains and leave him there to free himself when you showed up.”

Elliot raised his eyebrows and felt impressed despite himself. “It wasn’t a bad plan, just…went a bit mushy towards the end.” He gave her a disapproving frown. “You weren’t supposed to engage him, not alone. You should have barricaded yourself in a closet and texted me or Kirsty. We would have found you and you wouldn’t have endangered or incriminated yourself.”

Really, this could have ruined everything. Tiffany was very lucky no one saw her, even if Trevor would have gotten arrested for trespassing. They would have all been implicated; Tiffany would have been taken away, Kirsty’s past in a mental hospital would have been used against him and who knows what would have become of him. Studied, perhaps.

Still, he understood. She was afraid and panicked. He might have done the same thing at her age but it could have still gone horribly wrong. Trevor could have caught her or unmasked her and then blackmailed her into letting him get close to Kirsty. She could have died.

Tiffany could have died.

He shook his head to clear it. That was not something he wanted to contemplate and besides there was still something unsaid between him and Tiffany.

“I doubt anything would have developed between our Kirsty and Trevor,” he said after taking another sip of his milkshake. “Clearly he wasn’t her type. He was a cad who thought stalking and harassing a woman would make her turn to him for protection.”

“That’s incel behavior,” Tiffany said after taking a huge gulp of her milkshake. “Dude was not just sus, but entitled.”

“Er…yes,” Elliot understood most of that sentence. Then he said what he’d been reluctant to say, something he knew they had both been thinking. “But the next man might succeed.”

Tiffany’s face fell and he felt his heart drop into his stomach just saying the words aloud.

“Kirsty’s great,” Tiffany mumbled. “She’s pretty and smart and kind. Other guys besides Trevor have noticed and a few of them might not be creepers.”

They were silent, just sipping their beverages. Kirsty was the most “normal” in their little family. She could find proper love, build a real family or have a career she deserved. They could be left behind. Well, he would be. No sane husband would let a grown man like Elliot live under the same roof as his wife; he would be regarded as strange or competition. There was a slight chance he and Kirsty and whoever she married might be able to form a polyamorous relationship but he doubted it. Who wouldn’t want someone as wonderful as Kirsty all to themselves?

Tiffany would probably fare better. She was a sweet, clever girl and Kirsty saw her as a little sister. Elliot could easily imagine Kirsty telling anyone who wanted to marry her “love me, love my sister”. Tiffany would have a home until university at least.

Elliot and Tiffany looked at each other and shared a moment of understanding. A man from the past and a youngster from modern times shared a common fear; Kirsty leaving them behind. The family would become broken.

He impulsively grabbed Tiffany’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Kirsty would never abandon you. She loves you.”

That made her smile. “She loves you too.”

Neither of them said what they were thinking. For now.

*****

Two days later Tiffany and Elliot decided to enact their plan B. Well, it was originally Kirsty’s plan but they didn’t want her involved for now. She had a term paper due.

The first part of the plan called for Tiffany to nick Kirsty’s phone and send a message to the class group chat. She claimed she knew who the harasser was and decided to meet the person at a certain spot on campus at a certain time. She would show her evidence and give them a choice between having charges filed or leaving her alone and remaining anonymous.

Tiffany and Elliot waited on the outer edge of an unused fountain near the art building with beverages and snacks to keep them occupied as they watched for their quarry to arrive.

He did not disappoint. His predictability would be amusing in any other situation but he’d harassed their Kirsty and threatened Tiffany. Under the circumstances, they were being shockingly nice.

“Look, Kirsty, let me explain-” his whiny attempt to save himself was cut off and he glared at them. “Oh, it’s just you assholes.”

Tiffany fiddled when her phone then set it down to cover her ears. “Language!” she admonished Trevor with mock outrage. “There’s a child present!”

Elliot looked Trevor over. He was trying to be commanding and in control of the situation. Captain Spencer had survived four years of the bloodiest war fought in the past century and a half and had spent one hundred years as the high priest of Hell. Gooden’s attempts to dominate were laughable.

“Hello, Trevor,” he said after looking the other man up and down with an amused smirk on his face. “You seem none the worse for wear.” He crossed his legs and then put his hands on his knee. “You’re welcome by the way, for the rescue.”

Trevor just sneered. “A rescue I wouldn’t have needed if you hadn’t had your accomplice hit me over the head and chain me up.” He shook his head. “Where the hell did you find that guy anyway? Is he Kirsty’s ‘darling’ ?”

Elliot shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’d be much more interested-” he cut Trevor off before he could say anything. “-in what you were doing at a high school. Tiffany’s high school, to be exact,” he said with a nod at Tiffany.

“You were lucky Elliot didn’t report you and just let you go. I mean,” she shrugged, “you were trespassing on school grounds. He could have had you arrested, you know. Perverts these days.” She shook her head in mock disgust.

Trevor scoffed. “He was there too,” he jabbed a finger at Elliot. “So what does that make him?”

“Tiffany’s cousin and her guardian,” Elliot told him in a voice that could freeze boiling water. “I am both her emergency contact and an authorized pick-up person. You however are not.” He nodded at Tiffany. “She called me and asked her to pick her up because she thought someone was following her.”

Trevor opened his mouth a few times but nothing came out. He stared at the two of them who stared back. Their cold blue eyes and expressionless faces made them look very much alike at the moment and erased Trevor’s doubts. These two were definitely related. And united in their dislike of him.

He was afraid but couldn’t back down. “I’m wasting my time. You two clearly don’t know shit.”

He was about to leave, confident he had the last word when Tiffany spoke up. “Kirsty saw you.”

Trevor whipped back around. “What?!”

“She saw you at the mall buying a new phone from that friend of yours. Brent, right? According to the lady who works the pretzel stand, you’re there every few days buying a new phone.” Tiffany raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “She thinks you’re a dumbass who keeps losing your phone. Kinda suspicious.”

Trevor stopped and looked them both over. It was clear he was wondering how much either of them knew.

Elliot didn’t want to talk to this sod any more than he had to so he delivered the coup de gras. “We removed the tracker you put on Kirsty’s vehicle, Trevor.” He tsked as Trevor’s eyes widened. “Rather careless of you to leave fingerprints all over it.”

“That wasn’t me! Brent installed the damn thing! I thought he was gonna be careful-” he broke off as he saw the triumphant grins. He glared, knowing he was caught. Then he noticed Tiffany was playing with her phone again. “Are you recording me, you little bitch?!” She put her phone down her blouse and Elliot stood in front of her to keep Trevor away from her. Trevor backed away when he saw the deadly look on Elliot’s face but kept grinning.

“That’s illegal,” Trevor thought he had leverage. “You’re not supposed to record someone without their knowledge unless you’re a cop and have a warrant.”

“No it isn’t.”

Both men turned at the sound of the new voice. Tiffany peeked out from behind Elliot to look at the new person and smiled in relief.

Kirsty approached them. Her hair was a glorious halo of curls with the afternoon sun setting them alight behind her. The trench coat she wore over a patterned vest and tailored pants flared out behind her like a cape. Elliot was sure he wasn’t the only person staring at her.

Even Trevor swallowed several times before trying to speak.” “Kirsty-” he barely croaked out her name.

Kirsty smiled back but it wasn’t friendly. It was of a mountain lion who knew she had her prey trapped. “It’s not illegal to record someone without their consent in a public place if they are visible and audible, especially if they don't have reasonable expectations of privacy. I looked it up. It would only be illegal if we were somewhere private. Besides,” she held up her own phone. “Tiffany wasn’t recording you. She had her phone on speaker the whole time. “I, on the other hand, was recording you.”

Of course Trevor was so arrogant he thought he could somehow talk his way out of the situation. “Look, I’m sure you’re just confused about what you saw. I’m sure you just mistook me for someone else and it’s all just a huge misunderstanding.”

Kirsty rolled her eyes and ignored him, addressing Elliot and Tiffany instead. “And look at that! He’s even gaslighting me too. He actually thinks I’m dumb enough not to believe my own eyes. Or the tracker I took off my car. Good job incriminating yourself, Gooden.” She smirked at him. “And implicating your best bud? Way to throw him under the bus. I bet he’d tell the cops it was all your idea; both the tracker and the burner phones. All to cut a deal.”

Trevor sputtered. His strategy had failed. The woman he was after was not only not interested but could put his ass in a sling and send him to jail. That shithead she lived with and their baby bitch too, they’d planned all this together. He’d fallen into their trap.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Trevor.” Kirsty refused to let him talk. “You’re going to withdraw or transfer, I don’t care which, to another school out of state. You can tell everyone you had a family emergency or some shit, I don’t care. In exchange,” She talked over him. “Tiffany doesn’t tell her school about you trespassing and stalking her like a pervert. I don’t report the tracker and the harassing phone calls. And my dearest friend,” she smiled at Elliot and he nearly melted. “Won’t gut you alive and throw you in a vat of acid.”

“I never thought of acid,” Elliot smirked at the look of terror on Trevor’s face. Oh, how he missed his tools. Not that he needed them at the moment. Kirsty was a magnificent sword and shield.

Trevor made a last ditch effort to hurt them. “Oh yeah? Well, what if I went to Immigration about your dear friend here?” He was almost snarling. “I bet his visa’s about to run out. It’d be a shame if poor little Tiffany’s only family was deported.”

Tiffany nearly launched herself at him. “You bastard!” Elliot barely held her back. “Language, pet.”

Kirsty seemed unconcerned. “Eh, I could just marry him. Then he can get a green card and work on his citizenship.”

Trevor shook his head in disbelief. “A fake marriage? Really? This guy matters to you so much? He’s not even your real family.”

“He would be if we got married,” Kirsty reminded him. “And who said anything about a fake marriage?” She winked at Elliot, who couldn’t help but stare back as she pushed past Trevor to wrap one of her arms around Elliot’s waist and declare, “If I had a husband as charming and sweet as Elliot, I’d fuck him every day of the week and twice on Sundays.”

Tiffany started to cough in surprise. Elliot stared at Kirsty like a gormless idiot. “Er…thank you, my dear. I think.”

Kirsty laughed. “Hey, you might be a little older than me but that just means you know what you want and you’re ready to settle down. Nothing wrong with that.” Her hand slipped down and she pinched him lightly on the arse, making him yelp. “And there’s a lot to be said for experience.” She looked at Trevor with contempt. “Most guys my age couldn’t find the clitoris with a GPS.”

Tiffany fell off the edge of the fountain. They all turned to her as Elliot helped her to her feet. “I’m okay!” she let them know.

“Think about it, or prepare to have your life ruined, Trevor.” Kirsty’s tone was final. She looked at Tiffany and Elliot. “Time to go, fam.”

As they walked towards Kirsty’s car Elliot couldn’t help but say what he was thinking.

“Only twice on Sundays?”

Tiffany stumbled.

#kirsty cotton #hellraiser #domestic fluff #tiffany is their daughter/little sister #i don't know what i'm doing #badass family #captain elliot spencer

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