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satoruxx · 2 months

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PARACOSM OF THE GODS.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words

SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing

RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33

i. the unknown

satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.

his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice.

you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone.

"who's the rookie?"

satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes.

it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei.

he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care.

"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.

satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons."

suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit."

the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around.

suguru is the first to interrupt the peace.

"maybe she's strong?"

"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities."

ii. routine

"can i ask you guys a question?"

a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching.

"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile.

"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue.

"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?"

satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another.

"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.

"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could.

you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him.

the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.

"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness."

after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.

"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him.

"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it.

"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."

the conversation ends there.

shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.

shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you.

a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment.

but you can't.

iii. halcyon

"hey suguru?"

"hm?"

"how come you always do your hair the same way?"

suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.

"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.

"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."

"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.

"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"

he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."

you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"

he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.

"how should i style it then, hotshot?"

his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."

he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.

"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"

suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"

you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."

he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.

"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.

"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.

"i like yours."

you blink. "mine?"

"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."

something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.

"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."

"do mine like that," he says quickly.

once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"

"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.

"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."

"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.

iv. fragility

"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—"

"—so that makes you her family then."

suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles.

"…yes."

you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat.

"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him.

"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims.

"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?"

satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe."

you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?"

he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably.

"we'll do things the way she wants us to."

it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him.

that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?

your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge.

v. longing

riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen.

satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.

you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko.

"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.

"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you.

"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?"

suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh.

"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot."

you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest.

your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him.

the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face.

and in that moment, nothing can be ruined.

"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands.

"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."

his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?"

he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always."

"me too."

he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle.

"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream.

you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru."

he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!"

"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty."

he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours."

"mine?" you chuckle.

"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room."

"oh? and why's that?"

suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home."

you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest.

"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room."

"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.

"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?"

"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!"

suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist.

"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears.

vi. ice bath

shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.

the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you.

"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!"

you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.

you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.

suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.

now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape.

shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait:

where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you?

you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell.

"shoko?"

it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you.

"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before.

vii. acid rain

the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices.

"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"

you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively.

"let's get out of here, guys."

your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing.

satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut.

you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?

"do you want to…kill them all?"

the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows.

"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.

you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man.

you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.

satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him.

"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry.

you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips.

"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?"

"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers."

satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both.

you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind.

"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that."

viii. fever dreams

satoru lies next to you.

a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time.

tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway.

it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while.

his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.

you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you.

"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies.

"i know."

ix. doubt

satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.

not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks.

"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!"

there's an odd note of glee in his voice.

"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around."

he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!"

your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak.

"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?"

there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"

a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?"

"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"

"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all."

x. shadow

satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.

you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"

"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.

"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."

your head is spinning.

"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"

"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.

"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."

you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"

satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.

"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."

you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.

"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"

shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.

god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.

"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.

"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.

"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"

a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."

you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.

"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"

you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.

his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"

his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."

xi. hellfire

you hear suguru before you see him.

his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.

you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.

or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.

it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.

you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.

now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.

suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.

you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.

"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"

your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.

you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.

"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.

he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"

"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"

"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."

you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.

"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.

"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.

"he went back to the dorms."

"okay."

you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.

the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.

haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.

not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.

you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"

his voice sounds far away. "hm?"

"are you okay?"

he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."

"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."

you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.

"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.

but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.

haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.

"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"

his voice tickles your ears.

"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?"

hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.

suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.

you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.

"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"

"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."

something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.

you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense.

you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.

but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.

xii. split

he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it.

you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself.

but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse.

that's what everything came down to, right? curses.

suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one.

"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye.

"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.

but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression.

"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now.

"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome."

you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.

you don't know what to say to him now.

"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?"

"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap.

"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"

the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders.

"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true."

your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"

suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?"

anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please."

suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again.

"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true."

"suguru—"

"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it."

you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully."

a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…

"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—"

"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…"

he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?"

you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot."

you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."

he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"

you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either.

he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing.

nobody has laughed in a while now.

you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him.

he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.

"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand."

his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him.

"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left."

a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.

"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions."

you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost.

"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…"

go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair.

"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel.

"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then."

"better late than never, right?"

the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death.

his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls.

"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head.

"'m not crying."

suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.

he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more.

he doesn't.

"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"

"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…"

he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."

he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears.

you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go.

you accept your fate then and there.

you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.

he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.

xiii. sanctify

satoru's at your door again.

you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable.

"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read:

YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.

underneath it, satoru had scrawled:

hotshot failing class now huh? :P

and shoko had added:

both of you stfu you're failing too

you had drawn a heart next to her name.

"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"

satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away.

"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off."

he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.

a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades.

"want help?"

"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed.

"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful.

"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…"

you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist.

"…are all of suguru's things."

there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there.

"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that."

satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face.

"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble.

"guess not."

you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.

you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward.

a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale.

"let's get started then, hotshot."

he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either.

but it's enough for the two of you.

"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him.

"so do you."

"i am," you admit honestly.

"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here."

"i know," you answer. you always are.

nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more.

you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.

both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections.

you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up.

"hey."

you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention.

"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind."

you frown. "what are you talking about?"

"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that."

you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?"

satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?"

you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips.

"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."

xiv. idyll

it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.

tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.

"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.

"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."

"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."

"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."

"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"

you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."

satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"

"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.

"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.

"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."

satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."

he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.

so you don't say anything either.

the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.

when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"

you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."

"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."

"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."

"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."

you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."

satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"

you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"

your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.

he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"

your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"

satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."

he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."

he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.

"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.

his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."

"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.

then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."

everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

you can't help but smile. "always."

you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.

the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.

he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.

xv. retribution

the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.

he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.

and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.

except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.

he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.

the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.

suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.

you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.

it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.

you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.

a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"

you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"

"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"

your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.

"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"

he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"

there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.

"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.

it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.

his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."

you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.

he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.

but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?

you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"

he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."

"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.

"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"

he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.

another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.

and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.

he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.

when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.

"you're late, satoru."

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yzzart · 5 months

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hii!! love your work and i appreciate you so much for writing for tom <3 i was wondering if you could write a tom blyth x reader for the interview the cast did of how well the know each other??

An unfair test.

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader

summary: do you, Rachel and Josh, really, know Tom?

word count: 1.990!

notes: anon, you don't know how much i enjoy writing these types of interviews and i love you for requesting this! — and i'm serious, I LOVE writing this!

"And today, we'll be competing against each other to see how well we know our friend Tom Blyth!" — You explained, crossing your legs and excited about what could happen.

"And I'm saying…" — Rachel raised a finger up, supporting it in a sign of pronouncement. — "I'm saying that I think it's unfair for Y/N to participate in this!" — She laughed, looking at you and, soon, wanting support from Josh; you took one of the small cards that Tom was holding, which was part of the game, and placed it on your face, holding it.

"I also think!" — Josh confessed. — "Is asking his girlfriend to answer questions about him cheating?" — He asked, jokingly, with his arms raised.

"Not in my world." — Tom mentioned, shrugging his shoulders, looking at the camera and pointing the small white cards towards it.

"Are you afraid of losing?" — Now it was your turn to tease, arching your eyebrows and running a hand through some strands of your hair and returning the small card to your boyfriend.

"Oh yeah?" —Rachel said; while, Tom's hand gently and knowingly held your and the camera captured and focused on the moment. - "Look at this!" — She exclaimed, surprised and Josh's laugh was followed by the camera.

"Alright, let's do it." — Tom continued with an excited tone, moving the pen, which will be used, and reading for quick seconds the question that was on one of the cards. — "First question…" — He placed the card with the name 'Vanity Fair' on his chest. — "…what is my biggest fear?"

Tom looked at you, with a funny look of complicity and as if he was saying "oh, you know the answer" and it was, impossible, to try or contain the laughter. — Receiving looks and attention from Rachel and Josh.

"She knows." — Josh stated, thinking about his possible answer or something that could come to a correct conclusion. — "She definitely knows." — Leaning on the chain, you touched his arm.

"It's kind of funny to look at you and be like, hm, let me guess." — Rachel leaned over, resting her fingers on her chin, indicating a thoughtful pose and appearance. — "Let me guess, you don't wanna die alone." — She laughed. — "Please, Y/N, give me a clue!" — Her head rested on your shoulder.

"Wait, i guess i'm not so sure about my answer." — Tom's eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened, dramatically, a little at your words. — "I just think! "— You bit your lip, poking his knee.

"I have a guess." — Rachel turned to her boyfriend, waiting for him to say something or even give the correct answer.

"I think, mine is probably a little bit more shallow, but i think i got a guess, too." — Tom laughed at Josh's comment.

"Mine's the opposite." — Rachel said. — "You have a fear of like open water." — She observed some reaction or at least a simple speck of something new on his face, trying to guess if she was correct, but, she found nothing. — "Okay, you don't."

"What, is that your guess?" — He asked, tilting his head, as if wanting confirmation and certainty, to Rachel.

"Yeah, that's my guess." — She shook her head.

"Okay, Josh?" — Tom asked.

"I was gonna say mountain lions." — He reflected, still not sure if he would really go ahead with this guess and loud, synchronized laughter erupted in the room.

"In what way is this more shallow?" — Your boyfriend questioned himself and looked for a justification, a meaning for that comment. — "I'm curious."

"That's very poetic, in certain words." — You raised his hand in defense.

"I thought you were gonna say something like conceptual." — He referred to Rachel's guess, which failed along the way, and tried to justify it.

"Are you sure about your guess, darling?" — Tom pointed the card, with the answer, at you and he couldn't hide, even biting his lip, the anxious smile and, really, hoping that you would say the right answer. — "Or will it be a concrete answer?"

"You're making me nervous, excuse me?" — Rachel and Josh laughed. — "Definitely snakes." — You replied confidently, looking at your boyfriend and then at the camera.

"Actually, ironically, and that's like my childhood fear…" — He waved his hand. — "…which i've already overcome." — Tom finally turned the little card over so that the answer was visible and being revealed. — "Snakes!"

"The purest irony, that's incredible." — Tom pointed at you, a sign of affirmation. — "And so funny at the same time."

"Yes!" — He turned the card over again.. — "I was afraid of snakes when i was a kid because i saw a lot of Indiana Jones, and i watched a lot." — A scenario of little Tom watching Indiana Jones played in his head, causing a smile to appear on his lips. — "And i feel like this fear transformed me, you know?"

"Because cool people can be afraid of snakes." — Rachel added.

"Because cool people are afraid of snakes." — Tom agreed.

"And the fact that on set, we had two snakes, and you had to act with them for one part, is impressive." — Tom once again placed his hand on your knee, squeezing it lightly.

"But, i'm not afraid of them anymore." — Maybe, a little, but, he wouldn't say at that moment. — "I've had a lot of therapy, honey." — You laughed. — "That's my biggest childhood fear, like, it's the first thing that would come to my mind if you asked me that."

In the future, during the editing of the video, a scoreboard with your name, Rachel's and Josh's would appear at that moment and with each one's score. — And you would be ahead, even with your colleagues' comments about how unfair it seemed that you were winning. — Indeed.

"Next question!" — Tom warned, holding up another card. — "Who is my ideal dinner guest?" — He looked at you again as you thought of yet another answer or possible guess.

"Normally, i would say, but, anyway." — You shrugged, pretending to be thinking about something and got laughs in the room, including from the people who were working behind the cameras; Rachel rested her hand on your back, still laughing. — "This is difficult even for me."

"That's my first and foremost answer!" — Tom stuttered confidently, lifting the paper carefully so that the answer wasn't visible. — "But, let's consider a second option."

"I'm going to say Francis Lawrence…" — Rachel suggested, slowly, and focusing on the main camera in front of her. — "…director of The Hunger Games." — You laughed. — "And to be fair, we'd all have him as a special guest, and he's the best guest."

"He's a great dinner guest." — You mumbled. — "I think he could easily be my guess."

"Oh, mine too." — Rachel positioned herself. — “And i feel like you, that's your ideal, someone who can talk about wine and loves food.” — She paused, thinking about her words and acting as if she said something. — "Y/N could fit that description like a shame, now that i see it." — Her voice swore, and turning her head towards you .

"I was going to say that now!" — Josh said, crossing his arms. — "My guess, which i feel is terrible, is going to be Cyndi Lauper, you know." — He uncrossed his arms, resting one of them on his leg and Rachel hugged the other.

"Okay, okay." — Tom turns the paper to the camera. — "I think it would be David Bowie." — God, you would never get that right.

"I swear he didn't cross my mind for a second." — Your head shook in denial, and in disbelief.

"Me too, i wouldn't understand that." — Josh looked at one of the cameras and Rachel moved one of her hands, a little in disbelief and intrigued.

"What it is, i just think it would be really fun." — Tom tried to justify. — "Okay, so, we have no points for Rachel and Josh and…" — He acted out a movement like they were playing a drum. — "…one point for Y/N."

"We are terrible." — Rachel confessed to her boyfriend. — "Terrible."

“And i feel like she can get another point now.” — Tom read the question quickly, before looking at you, who furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

"Really?" — You questioned, shook your leg and the british nodded.

"What's my go-to karaoke song?" — He read it and, in the same second, he started writing the answer and thousands of songs ran through his mind; one after the other.

The last karaoke night where you and Tom were present was recent; and, magically, incredible to the point of completing an album of photos and videos in your gallery. — However, it was clearly impossible to conclude what his favorite song was. — And it wasn't an exaggeration or anything like that.

"And you saying i was going to get this one right." — Your complaint passed through the ears of your boyfriend, who showed an incredulous expression.

"Our last karaoke night was, like, two weeks ago?" — Tom didn't remember, and he remembered few things. — "I think, i'm not sure."

"I'm not going to karaoke with you guys" — Rachel's soft voice introduced. — "And i need to start going." — She turned to Josh and you.

"I don't think you sing." — Josh looked up as he spoke.

"He actually sings." — You answered him. — "And he dedicates himself like no one else, a true spectacle."

“I will say it was definitely a punk rock thing.” — Josh's guess entered his mind, and he thought about agreeing with it. — "Something like."

"I would say that a chorus of a Spice Girls or Backsteet Boys song with your voice crossed my mind, but i don't want to consider it as a guess right now." — You placed your hand on your mouth, laughing at the fictional scenario.

"And i would say i don't know what to say." — Rachel murmured. — "Serious."

"I'll give you a hint, it's probably not what you'd expect." — Tom tried to help, but nothing came to her mind.

"I guess that didn't help, dear."

"Mambo number five…" — Josh suggested, speaking quietly, but sure of his guess.

"Josh's mambo number five, what's your guess?" — Blyth directed the small card towards you and Rachel, waiting for your response.

"Any of backsteet boys." — You didn't even specify any of the group's songs, and you wouldn't even have time to choose them; it was as if all their names had disappeared from your consciousness. — "Any one."

"I'm gonna say…" — Rachel thought.

"No, i'll change mine to All the small things." — At the last second, Josh changed his guess and you thought about changing but decided against it.

"All the small things, okay." — Tom pointed out.

"I'm going to say 'I miss you' by Blink 182." — Rachel said with certainty, as there weren't many options due to the lack of opportunities to attend singing nights.

"Wow, it's really the 2000s." — He separated some cards on his lap before turning to the question. — "The answer is, somewhat surprisingly…" — For the third time, Tom turns over the paper with the answer. — "Senhorita by Justin Timberlake."

The disbelieving and doubtful reactions and expressions on your faces were met by Tom's warm and loud laugh. — None of you expected that song. — And you don't remember him singing it.

Or, simply put, that memory was in the back of your mind.

"No chance, not possible." — You said intrigued, looking at your boyfriend and shaking your head in denial, for the second time.

"I don't remember you singing that." — Josh also tried to remember or have some memory with the mentioned song but nothing happened, he didn't remember either. — "Serious."

"We sing!" — Tom insinuated, pointing at you and Josh, who looked at each other and still don't remember the moment; that is if it really existed and he sang that song. — "Because Y/N mentioned Backsteet boys, we can put at least half a point." — Therefore, your name would have a new punctuation, even though it was small and not very valid. — "And she continues ahead!"

"Oh, i give up." — Rachel and Josh spoke at the same time, holding their hands up and laughing loudly.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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I'm not sure if you did this before but can I ask for practice kisses with Genshin men and what kind of excuses they would use?

I haven't done this before actually and I haven't seen many of these outside of canon x canon so I will channel my knowledge of those.

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Thoma, Childe, Tighnari, Cyno, Baizhu, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, crush, lots of kissing, grinding, slightly suggestive, mention of boners, friends to lovers

A/N: I'm curious, is this something people actually do? Cause for me this would be super awkward.

Kaeya loves to talk big game and get super flirty with you, all cocky when he jokingly asks you if you want to kiss but once you say yes some of his confidence dwindles. He doesn't need practice obviously! You do, he's doing this for you benefit, so pucker up and be happy that you have someone as skilled as him to help you out with this, otherwise you'd be hopeless.

Diluc a nervous mess when he asks you to practice kissing with him. Good thing he's got gloves on so you can't tell how sweaty his hands are. Really hesitant at first because he's one, your friend, and two, your boss. Very slow to ease into it and pluck up the courage to deepen the kiss but once he does he's not letting you go any time soon.

Itto doesn't just ask, he kind of barks it out really loudly at you and later on has to be tracked down by you due to running off. He cannot believe he just yelled that. You probably don't wanna kiss him now, he was so uncool. You stop his bad train of thoughts before he can get any worse, and in your mind, he doesn't need to practice a lot, just watch out for his fangs a little more.

Thoma sits next to you, hands in his lap and glancing at you then back into the tea cup. You don't have to do this with him if you don't wanna, he just thought that it would be nice to do with someone he trusts so much. That way when he gets a crush, which is totally not you, he won't look like a fool. And again you don't- oh. Your lips are very soft on his, softer then he expected.

Childe can barely hold back his excitement when you say yes to his request. He's all smug as he pushes you against the nearby wall and slots between your legs but the moment your lips touch he goes soft and gentle, cupping your cheek and turning his head, a little sloppy but still gradually deepening the kiss and please don't mind what's happening between his legs right now.

Tighnari tries to stop his ears from signaling her nervousness but they keep flicking back and forth as you scoot up to him. Both of you are nervous, trying to figure out the best position for your hands and your lips. He can almost feel his heart jumping out of his chest. It gets even worse when he feels your nice, soft lips against his own. As the kiss goes on he bites at your lip, making you yelp. How cute.

Cyno cracks many jokes when he asks you, trying to play of the whole thing as just good fun, for the both of you obviously. Kisses you with a big grin on his face, a very quick kiss at first, then you dive in for another, and another, and another until he gets a little flustered about suggesting it. He doesn't want you to see him like this so he starts kissing you again, trying to make you focused on the kissing.

Baizhu is really embaressed about asking for this. He's really sloppy and inexperienced and hesitant at first. When you push him down and get on top of him his whole body gets warm, there's pressure between his legs that he wants to release but even kissing gets him this flustered it will be a while until he can take the next step. Once he gets the courage... you're not getting out of bed without hickies.

Zhongli doesn't need to practice kissing, he's very experienced with it but you on the other hand... Judging from how you reacted last time you could use a little practice. He can take it slow at first, until you get comfortable with his lips against yours, his body against yours, his hands running over your body and pulling you close to him. With his help you'll be a kissing expert in no time.

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kyokutsu-sama · 1 month

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Hi may I ask if you could do headcanons on William Vangeance who falls for an enemy mid-battle like the enemy has him in their trap and are just casually talking to him while he struggles to break free and they accidentally knock his mask off showing his mark and he thinks the enemy will make fun of it but their actually not bothered by it at all

Thank you I know this is super specific so if you don't want too you don't have to write for it

A/n: Hi @weebwith-problems!! Your request was very interesting and I love William so much❤️ I actually like it when requests are specific, it helps me write them better. I hope you like it☺️

____________________________

William always managed to enter the battlefield and defeat his enemies without much difficulty, using his magic. But there are times when we have to try harder and this happened on a day when he had gone on a mission with other members of the golden dawn.

He was trying to defeat his opponent, but it was proving more difficult than he imagined. In the middle of the fight they managed to catch him by surprise and use a spell to trap him and ensure he was safely trapped.

He wriggled but couldn't free his body.

They approached William and he thought they were going to kill him at that moment but that didn't seem like it was going to happen.

"You're strong, you know, William" They said looking at him and he said nothing other than his slightly confused expression

"What are you carrying under that mask? Since we've been fighting, I've been asking myself that. I'm really curious about it" They looked at him imagining what his face would look like without the mask. "Can I take a look?" They asked as they approached him

William must have been focusing on that fight and getting out of there but at the same time he was afraid that they would see his face and that they would make fun of him for it, something that reminded him of his painful past.

"Wait..." He said as he tried to free himself but they got close to him and removed his mask almost so quickly that he didn't even notice

William remained static, his body that seemed to want to run away just now, was completely still. They didn't laugh at William, they didn't make any comments about the huge scar that crossed his forehead and eyes from one side to the other.

The enemy seemed quite comfortable even after seeing his weakness.

Their hands slowly passed over the scar, the captain tried to turn his face but the hand continued to trace paths there and that comforted him knowing that they didn't seem scared by that scar.

"It's a hell of a scar" They lowered their hand and he looked at them in the eyes and they smiled tenderly. "Why do you hide it? You look pretty" They caressed his cheek

William was speechless about what was happening, he saw them as an enemy minutes ago but after that he didn't know what to think. They were the only ones who praised him for being like that and he was so grateful to have heard that.

They released them from the restraints and he fell to the ground and looked at them, they crouched in front of him and held his face.

"If anyone ever said anything bad about this scar, I'm going to kill them" They smiled and he smiled at them too. "Take your mask. I have to go, don't forget that we still belong to different sides, but I hope to meet you again one day"They got up and ran away from the captain, who looked at the mask in his hands and then at them as they walked away from the place

It had been a few days since that meeting and he couldn't forget the way they were so kind to him. He just hoped to see them again and under different circumstances so he could talk with them.

He didn't really realize it but the truth is that he fell in love in that moment when their fingertips caressed his skin so gently.

#Black clover #black clover fandom #black clover headcanons #black clover x reader #william vangeance #william vangeance x reader #sfw headcanons #hes so cute #I can already imagine William telling him what happened and then Yami starts making fun of him because of the way he's blushing #These two😅

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cod-dump · 9 months

Note

I come back with another TV series quote, Stranger Things addition. I've been seeing all these posts about how done Gaz is with Soap and Ghost, so I thought I'd contribute.

Ghost, driving to the rendezvous point: *Arguing with Soap* What are you gonna do, walk to the extraction point?

Soap: I will do anything if it gets me a way from you!

Gaz, very tired and very done with this bullshit: Children! Children! Children! This interminable bickering was amusing at first, but it's getting stale, and we've got a long drive ahead of us.

Gaz: So why don't you two cut the horseshit and get to the part where you admit your sexual feelings for one another.

Ghost, almost stearing into a ditch: Woah!

Soap: You are way off base, buddy!

Gaz: Oh, spare me, spare me, spare me! *Leans into the middle concel, looking at Soap*

Gaz: Yes, yes, hes a brute. I know. Probably reminds you of a bad relationship, and gosh, you'd really like a nice man to settle down with, but admit it, you're real curious to know what he's like I'm the sack!

Gaz, turning to Ghost: And you! Hah! Well, you're just a big man baby who'd rather act tough than show his true feelings because the last time you opened your heart, you got hurt. Owie.

Gaz: And now, rather than admit these feelings, you're dancing around one another with this mind-numbing and frankly borish mating ritual. So please, for my sake, either quit

Gaz: Or pull over, tear off those clothes, and get it over with!

Ghost and Soap: *Silence*

There was a period after all that was said that Gaz was sure that he was dead.

The silence was loud, suffocating. Nothing was said for several minutes and that gave Gaz plenty of time to think about what exactly he had said and to who. He’s known Ghost longer, he knows how he feels about being confronted with his emotions, his humanity. Gaz felt comfortable with Soap but he knew the man sometimes had a explosive temper. So the silence, the silence that would not exist if it was just one of the men instead of both, was very nerve racking.

The fact nothing was said the rest of the drive said far too much, that Gaz said too much.

They made it to the extraction point where Nik was waiting. Again, nothing was said that was strictly business on the flight back. It was obvious that Nik picked up on the tension and quickly figured it stemmed from Gaz. Man had always been observant so Gaz was hoping he could rely on him for protection if it came to that.

They made it back to base and thankfully Price was there, waiting for them in a professional yet relaxed pose. Silently, the three climbed out and Gaz hung back to avoid walking between the all too quiet Soap and Ghost. He felt Nik’s gaze on him and then Price’s, the man quickly picking up on whatever Nik and felt/seen. Fortunately the man didn’t say anything about it and just walked them inside to debrief.

Everything after that point would just be too quiet. Even with the regular chatter of the soldiers, everyone moving and working as normal, it was too fucking quiet. Soap and Ghost went their separate ways after the debriefing and just disappeared all together after that. Gaz was terrified to go to his office or room so he chose to stick next to Price.

“Sergeant… dare I ask what the hell happened on that mission?”

Gaz just sat silently next to him, eyes flickering to the door of the room, as if expecting someone to come barging in and attack him. That might’ve been Soap’s approach, Gaz has never seen Ghost go in guns blasting unless there was no other option.

“More like what happened afterward… I think they’re going to kill me.”

“Why would you think that?”

Price was definitely showing more interest in whatever was going on with Gaz over the paperwork before him. Man loved to hear gossip even though he would rather eat straight coffee grounds than admit it.

“May have overstepped with Soap and Ghost.”

Price was laser focused on him and it made Gaz shudder. He tried to avoid looking at his captain and just focus on the door completely. Gaz knew he couldn’t beat around the bush forever (Price would beat him if he did) so he just took a deep breath and told him everything. He explained their argument, what lead to it, and what Gaz had said to them on the car ride to the extraction point. Gaz took a breath after the final word, leaning over the table and closing his eyes to avoid looking or perceiving anything.

Price laughed loudly and Gaz just hunkered down more. Price tried to say something throughout his fit of uncontrollable laughing fit but was simply unable to get anything out. Price wasn’t the type to laugh at someone’s misery (though it has happened) so Gaz was hoping the situation was just too ridiculous and Gaz’s worry was purely irrational.

Finally, after Price laughing long and hard enough for him to be out of breath, the man calmed and pat Gaz’s shoulder.

“I wish I could’ve been there!”

“Cap-“

“You’re fine, Kyle. They’re not going to do shit.”

Gaz relaxed at Price’s certainty. Price was right, he was fine.

Gaz would stay fine until the next day early in the morning. He would be at breakfast in the mess, attempting to chase away the grogginess with coffee when he noticed someone sit at the table he was at.

“Hey, Gaz. How’d you sleep?”

Gaz was surprised to hear it was Soap, “Fine. You losing your voice, mate? Sound like- OH MY GOD-“

Gaz had opened his eyes to see Soap and the absolute murder scene that was his neck. It looked like someone strangled him then bit him to hell and back. Gaz gawked, Soap avoiding looking him in the eye like he was Medusa. Gaz struggled to say something, anything.

“What the fuck happened to you?!”

Soap was red in the face, turning his upper body away from Gaz. Gaz was going to push more but then Soap muttered, face practically on fire.

“Had a… ‘talk’ with Ghost about our feelings yesterday.”

Gaz gasped louder than what others would’ve deemed necessary, but to him it was very necessary. Soap decided to leave quickly, Gaz just staring after him with his jaw hanging open. Soap disappeared out of the mess and Gaz didn’t know what to do other than grab his phone and immediately text Price what he had just learned and seen.

#first bigger thing I’ve written in forever! yay!!#cod mwii #call of duty #modern warfare ii #kyle gaz garrick #john price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #drabble #ficlet #fic

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yuri-is-online · 1 month

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The TWST cast from the original Fyuuture Kid timeline is so Cleopatra by Lumineers coded. They just get their (pregnant) joyfriend ripped away from them, cursed, and then sent back to earth, where they can't follow all in one day. That's gotta be a fucking nightmare. They just lose everything at the same time. Bro. Imagine Jamil or Azul, they had to fight for everything and just when they finally, FINALLY, think they have something that will never leave, it's taken away. Imagine malleus or cater or silver; they've already lost so much, silver just lost his dad and now, when he's going to make his own family, they're taken from him too.

TW FOR SUICIDE.

You wrote one time that of Yuu ever died, Floyd would be quick to follow, so. Did Jade and Azul have to put him on suicide watch? My mind is reeling there were NO WINNERS in this timeline Goddamn.

Sorry for the angst dude I just think about this AU a lot

i am so sorry for making you all live with this many thoughts and just waltzing on off to do fuck all

So there weren't any winners in the original timeline no, but the way things went down sort of prevented the type of outcome you are describing with Floyd due to the potential for hope, that most dangerous of falsehoods. In a way that sort of makes it worse though... so lets talk about what went down shall we?

(I'm going to keep this post to more general information, but I did write some specific ship thoughts I'll probably use for another post later on, I just need to think on some of them more...)

notes: they/them used for Yuu, this is part of my fyuuture kid au which can be found under the series section of my masterlist. This post will not contain discussions of suicidal ideation, but will contain major character death and descriptions of violence. If you are curious about what happened to Yuu and Fyuuture kid, look at this post here.

General Original Timeline Facts

To give a brief re-cap of what happens to Yuu, they were arrested by the Magical Marshall's office and sent back to their world, while pregnant, and cursed to forget everything that had happened to them in Twisted Wonderland. Something I didn't mention in that first post, mostly because I intended to imply it in the answer about Riddle's relationship with Yutu but ended up cutting, is that none of the characters actually know that this is what happened at first. They know that Yuu disappeared, but they don't know that the Marshalls were involved or that Yuu went back to their world, which causes a real sense of panic in all of them because holy shit their spouse and unborn child just went missing and they can't seem to get anyone to take this seriously. How the Marshalls went about hiding this information, and what the general public believed happened to Yuu depends on who their husband was, as did the fallout of their disappearance.

For anyone who might be a bit confused, the Magical Marshall's Office is an elite squad of police officers who investigate magical crime, and occasionally deal with overblots. They are the organization that Deuce wants to join one day, which does mean that the people who made the decision to see Yuu as a threat to public safety and send Yuu home were Deuce's own co-workers and friends.

Deuce is the first to suspect that the Marshall's might have had something to do with Yuu's disappearance, but he isn't able to really do much with that. He tries, but he is stonewalled and eventually fired- though by the time that happened monster attacks started getting really bad in the Queendom and Deuce had a whole other set of questions.

Speaking of those monster attacks, the instant Yuu is removed from Twisted Wonderland Grim overblots I have an idea as to why, but it isn't super set in stone. This "Chimera" begins hunting and stirring up monsters, inciting them to attack civilization while it focuses on trying to "wake up" the Phantoms of the Great 7. These phantoms want to re-join with their respective overblot boy, which is an easier task for some of them than others.

The first phantom to re-appear was the Thorn Fairy's. Malleus chose to seal himself and his phantom in an eternal sleep inside the Briar Valley capital after ordering Sebek and Silver to evacuate everyone who lived there, leaving his people truly leaderless and in shambles. He technically also ordered Lilia to go with them, but he refused. He wasn't able to abandon another Draconia to die alone. A lot of nocturnal fae died to the Phantom before Malleus's sacrifice, but because the problem was more or less contained to Briar Valley not all of the other nations saw the monster problem as a threat. They should have.

The second phantom to re-appear was The Queen of Hearts'. Riddle, having been approached by Deuce with his suspicions regarding Yuu's disappearance and outraged by what he saw as a clear violation of the law (if nothing else) was easy prey and re-assimilated into the monster. The phantom then began hunting down each of Riddle's previous dorm mates to corrupt them into card soldiers for its army, eventually fashioning four lieutenants that were a touch more sentient that the others out of Trey, Cater, Deuce, and Ace.

Certain members of the Al-Asim family saw that happen and quietly, without Kalim's knowledge, arrange to have Jamil killed. This doesn't prevent the Sorcerer of the Sands' phantom from reuniting with him, it just means the monster is puppeteering a corpse. And dragging around a second once it gets its hands on Kalim...

Obviously at this point something of a pattern has been established, meaning S.T.Y.X. is expected to do something. Idia does not actually overblot for a second time thank you very much, Phantom Ortho has a mind of his own and he promised to stay in the Underworld until it was Idy's time. His first order of business is to check in on Vil, Azul, and Leona to make sure they're ok. He manages to make contact with Vil, but the Coral Sea proves impossible to get a message through to and Leona is M.I.A. Literally, he and Ruggie have both disappeared while investigating monster attacks around the slums. Idia has a decision to make, and it's not one he really likes, but S.T.Y.X. has a better relationship with the Sunset Savannah than it does the Coral Sea, so it's off to the Elephant Graveyard while Vil agrees to stay behind on the Isle of Woe under observation for his own safety.

It's a decision Idia regrets later. He gets to Leona in time to help him fight and kill the King of Beasts's phantom, but it costs Leona and Ruggie their lives, and while he's there, the Sea Witch's phantom finds Azul and begins using his magic to drain the merfolk dry. Floyd manages to use his unique magic to distract Azul long enough to allow Jade to escape, who only flees because he thought his brother was behind him the whole time. The oceans become polluted with blot, forcing the surviving merfolk to the surface. Many go to NRC and take refuge in the Octavinelle dorm pocket dimension, resulting in the Mostro Lounge being closed to make more room. Somehow that feels more like a killing blow to Azul for Jade than what the phantom did.

Schools like NRC, RSA, and Nobel Bell become sort of centers for survivors due to the large amounts of mages, magical wards, and artifacts that such schools typically have made them safer than most towns. NRC specifically has seen a large influx of magicless people who run a lot of the things the ghosts used to and runs a lot of normal school classes in additional to the magic program, which shifts over time to be more focused on fighting due to the increased monster attacks.

Also Crewel is now Headmage. It would have been Trein but I don't think he needs the stress. I haven't decided if he is still alive or not, but Vargas and Sam are still kicking.

So to give a run down of where everyone stands in the original timeline in order: Malleus and his phantom are trapped in an eternal sleep, Lilia is dead, Silver and Sebek are alive (at least at first) and trying to help the fae refuges displaced by the Thorn Fairy's Phantom. All of Heartslabyul are overblot phantoms, and actively making the Queendom of Roses unlivable. Jamil was assassinated and the Sorcerer of the Sands's phantom went on to kill Kalim and most of his family. To be clear that wasn't because of Jamil's lingering emotions, but good luck explaining that to most people. Vil and Idia are overblot free, Vil because he is being detained on the Isle of Woe and Idia because of his promise with Phantom Ortho. Leona and Ruggie died fighting the King of Beast's phantom. Azul and Floyd are blot phantoms, while Jade is alive and tending bar at what remains of the lounge at NRC.

Now Epel, Rook, and Jack aren't named in that list. No one really knows what happened to them, but they are assumed dead (or at least Jack and Epel are.) Since this is my AU and I get to give out the information, I'll let you know that Rook is a phantom under control of the Fairest Queen's phantom, Jack is dead, and Epel is alive, but cut off from the rest of Twisted Wonderland by the monsters under the Fairest Queen's control. He's right teed off about that, hey Yutu go get him that ladder he's gonna give Rook a piece of his mind-

I do have some ship specific thoughts but I want to cook with them a bit more... but to maaaybe tease some of them?

Yutu and his friends had to fight the Heartslabyul boys multiple times. Yes this hurt their Yutus a lot, and is one of the main reasons Riddle! Yutu hates his dad so much.

Vil can hear the Fairest Queen talking to him and it's not great for his mental stability. Neither is being cooped up in the Isle of Woe, his Yutu did meet him and remembers it being a terrifying experience.

Jade has a good relationship with Floyd! Yutu, Jade and Floyd are their own people but losing Floyd killed a part of him that was slightly healed by getting his nephew back. He likes to tease Azul! Yutu and told him a great deal about his dad. As for his own Yutu... their relationship is a tad strained by how protective Jade is over his son. He is terrified of losing him and what is left of his pearl...

Not all Yutus are in the same dorm as their father. I haven't decided on where all of them are yet, but I did mention once in my replies that Azul! Yutu is in Savanaclaw. I did not mention that he did intend to transfer but couldn't when he accidentally became the Dorm Leader because he got tired of being mouthed off to and knocked someone out. I have an ask about Cater! Yutu I'm working on but I'll add him here as having been put into Octavinelle, and I think I want to put Kalim! Yutu into Pomefiore but I need to cook more...

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #tw character death #ngl i cried when i was writing about jade #so no one yell at me i am already yelling at myself ok

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ghostgirl101 · 2 years

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how about a micheal myers dating headcannon list? i always thought he was pretty,,

Dating Michael Myers Would Be Like This:

A/N: The version of Michael Myers I'm writing for here is the younger, original 1978 Halloween, so if you want the older version or Rob Zombie's then feel free to request it (just no smut 🙃)

🔪• Michael Myers... it's hard to know where to start with this. You may have caught his attention as a potential victim, or even as an aspiring slasher, but whatever you did, you can't undo. You're The Shape's new obsession now, and it'll be almost impossible to not carry on being so.

🔪• He doesn't know what it is he's feeling at all; maybe it's the way you stared up at him expectantly, your fear mixed with something searching and curious as you waited for impact, but Michael couldn't make himself kill you. His head told him to do it, and do it now, but, for once, his own willpower won. Michael brushed past you instead, while you watched in surprise, his knife sticky with crimson as it swung slightly as he walked away.

🔪• It won't be the last you see of him, though. Whether you notice it or not, Myers is never too far away, watching you blankly from around the corner, inside a passing beige car, or in plain sight on the road opposite. It's unnerving, his dark eyes hidden and seemingly empty behind the mask as he observes ominously, but if you could get closer, you would see the confusion, annoyance with himself, and the fond calmness he gets just from being in your presence, in his hidden expression.

🔪• You have to sort of allow him into your life and home after a while of him following you around, subtly or obviously, depending on how he feels and what's happening. If Michael wanted you dead, you'd be dead, so him being nearby whenever you look behind you is a form of protection on his part, that, for whatever reason, he wants and needs to give you.

🔪• Simple things like cooking him food and patching him up after his kills mean a lot to him. I mean, the first few times, he'll be looming and making sure you're not poisoning it, or apprehensively staring at the things you're using to fix him up with and stop the blood. But little by little, Michael trusts you more, and gets a bit more relaxed. He still only eats when he's alone because he doesn't want you to see him unmasked (yet, we'll get to that later) but he'll hang around more when you're not in any danger, like watching tv or catching up on work. He's not particularly focused on that, more on you... he stares, a lot, obviously.

🔪• Being in a proper relationship with a lover is something that Michael Myers has never really come close to experiencing, so he has to be eased and gently guided into it. If he panics when things move a little too fast, he won't hurt you or anything, but he'll disappear for an hour or so, until he's in a better state to try again. It starts with small physical touches, sitting closer together, holding hands, and even managing to lean on him or hug him a little. It fazes him at first, and he freezes up but doesn't push you off. It just takes him a bit to mirror it, like letting a strong arm go around your shoulders as he awkwardly returns it. He gets better and more comfortable with it over time.

🔪• Michael is extremely protective, no matter who you are or what you do. He hates the thought of you being scared of him too... I mean, usually, it's a great rush of a feeling, when his victim runs off to get caught by him, with looks of horror on their faces. But it feels wrong with you. You're not his victim. You matter, and you're his. Simple as that, to him. So the stalking doesn't fully stop, since he likes knowing where you are and who you're with; not necessarily in an overly toxic way, more as in him not trusting anyone but you, and making sure you're as safe as you can be. When you're at home watching TV or something, then he'll feel confident enough in you to go off to his nightly activities, before he returns in the early hours of the morning and lets you coax him to sleep.

🔪• Michael Myers finds it almost impossible to sleep, and often time he gets nightmares. He's never slept as well and deeply as he does when you're beside him, or feeling your soft weight on him, grounding him in a way. He still gets nightmares every now and then, but in the dark, he can use the opportunity to cling to you instead, in a way that's a lot more vulnerable than usual. He'll act like it never happened when you get up for the day later on, though, and gets all flustered under his mask if you bring it up.

🔪• Sometimes, after his kills, he'll bring you back little trinkets, like jewellery Michael thinks you might like, or expensive-looking things. Either that or bloody teeth. You accept his more appropriate gifts with a thankful smile and a hug, though you can't wear it out much in case someone notices it. He also likes it when you wear his stuff, like the oversized black t-shirts he wears underneath the boiler suit. It makes Michael feel a lot more possessive.

🔪• Another thing is communication. You can tell what he wants by him just standing straight behind you for you to bump into him when you turn back, whether it's food or to go somewhere else or a hug. Sometimes he'll leave brief, one or two-worded notes around your home when he's gone to tell you to 'stay home' or 'sleep soon' with a small, wobbly heart hidden on the corner of the paper. But what's surprising is that, although he's selectively mute, a part of him wants to talk to you. It's difficult after being silent for so long, but every once in a while, he'll whisper a faded, odd compliment when you're in bed, alone together, to comfort you or answer a question. Unless he can't be bothered. Then Michael's back to doing things himself and just standing in the doorway like 🧍

🔪• Eventually, eventually, Michael feels confident enough to take off his mask with you - and only you - around to see. We saw how taken aback and uncomfortable he was in the movie when the mask was yanked off him, and although his expression usually is calm and stoic underneath, when it's bare, he hates how it's a lot easier to read his feelings. But it is you, so Michael doesn't mind as much. If you slowly reach up to touch his cheek or brush his hair with your hand, he'll flinch back instinctively at first, but grows to like it. If you earnestly tell him how pretty he is, if you look closely, you can see a faint blush dusting his cheeks before he huffs and looks away.

🔪• He likes you playing with his hair, too. It's more of a reason to keep his mask off, like when you're lounging around the house or trying to sleep. Gently tugging and carding your fingers through his brown curls makes him slump onto you and let his mind wander into a place that's not full of darkness and blood. The same goes for if you pull his hair slightly when you're making out. You have to teach him how to kiss you properly first, since he's never done this before. But Michael tones down the roughness and desperate, quick moves the more you do it, and learns how to be gentle. Well, gentler. He likes the feeling of being close together and connected on a deeper level, it balances him out a bit, and he lets himself enjoy it.

🔪• Random point, but if you find the one, specific ticklish spot he has, you could catch a glimpse of his rare smiles as he forces your hands away and tries to glare at you in annoyance. If you're ticklish, watch out, cus he'll get you back until you're in a laughing crying fit. You make him laugh just by being you every so often, and his smile is heart-stopping.

🔪• Michael knows that you're his forever, and that's exactly how he wants it. It's honestly not that bad a relationship (overlooking the kills and all, obviously) if you can take his protectiveness and weird mannerisms. But in the whole world, you'll never find a loyaler person, or anyone who loves as hard and obsessively as him. No one would think it - especially not Loomis - but you treating Michael Myers as a human and not as The Shape or some evil monster keeps a special little part of him awake amongst the darkness that swarms in his head.

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miasmaghoul · 9 months

Note

Trans dew starts leaking milk and Swiss is like, very very happy about it for completely holy reasons and not cause he wants to lick it all up and tell see how amazing is and dew is just gone, subspace, as high as he can be without the help of drugs

gjhfjd okay yeah sure. maybe not exactly what you requested, but this is the way the ghouls demanded this happen. 🙏

(what is a ficlet this is so long)

(also warning for potential body dysmorphia/dysphoria. dew is fine with all this, but I am not trans and would not want to presume that things like unexpected breast growth would be easy for everyone. please proceed with caution ♡)

Swiss cannot stop staring.

"I swear they're bigger than usual," he mutters, squinting across the common room. On the next couch over, Mountain looks up from his book.

"Huh? What are?"

He follows Swiss's suspicious gaze to where it rests on Dew in the kitchen. The little ghoul is busy putting away dishes, bobbing his head and humming along to whatever is pumping though his headphones. He's in his standard skinny jeans and tight black t-shirt, golden hair pulled into a tight knot at the base of his skull. To Mountain, he looks the same as ever.

To Swiss, though,

"His fuckin' tits."

The ghoul spits the word like it stings, but that couldn't be further from the truth. The thought has been on his mind all week, and every time Swiss focuses on it his cock throbs. He holds up both hands.

"I swear to Satan they're like," he makes a honking motion with his hands, one that Dew would whack him for,"...puffier than usual."

Mountain makes a rather undignified sound in response, shooting Swiss a raised eyebrow. Swiss doesn't so much as glance back. Mountain clears his throat, looking back at Dew with pinking cheeks.

"I, uh...I guess? Maybe?" Mountain tilts his head, adjusts his glasses. "I think you'd know better than I would, I'm more familiar with Rain's than Dew's."

Normally he would be correct, but -

"He won't let me see 'em!" Swiss whines - whines - pressing an unsubtle hand to his tingling dick. "All week, no matter how much I ask, he just -" Swiss waves at the air in lieu of finishing his sentence, eyes fixed solidly on Dew's chest. Mountain gives him a curious look.

"Is he okay?"

"He says he is," Swiss shrugs. He trusts Dew to say otherwise. "Ate him out for two hours last night, he sure as shit wasn't shy about that." Swiss gives himself another squeeze at the memory, sniffing his mustache on the off chance it still held Dew's musk. "He just won't take his fuckin' shirt off!" Mountain gives him a derisive chuff, settling back in with his book.

"What a tragedy," he murmurs, crossing his legs. Swiss pays his sarcasm no mind.

"C'mon Mount, you know how weak he is to nipple play." Dew folds like a house of cards at the slightest brush, and Swiss has spent many an evening wringing pleasured noises from the little ghoul's throat using nothing but those sensitive buds. And yet, "He won't let me near 'em. Won't even touch 'em for me!"

"Sound the alarms," Mountain deadpans, turning his page, "call the police, please, won't someone help us."

Swiss hurls a pillow at his crotch and Mountain catches it easily, tucking it under his neck. Swiss grumbles at him and slumps back into his seat, refocusing on the little ghoul. Watching him put away silverware.

He knows he's right. He knows Dew's chest is obvious now, has been getting more and more so over the course of the last week. Maybe longer, but he can only really think about the days that have become Dew's perma-shirt era. He can see that slight swell, made all the more noticable by Dew's stiff nipples. They poke out through his shirt constantly now, and it makes Dew's denial of access so much worse.

Swiss sighs and shoves himself from his seat, sauntering over under the guise of rummaging through the fridge for a drink. But then Dew stands on his tiptoes to put away a glass, exposes a stripe of his midriff, and Swiss is forced to divert. He slips warm fingers around Dew's skinny hips and the little ghoul jumps, nearly dropping his next glass.

"What the - fucker, warn a guy!" Dew sets the glass down and pulls out his earbuds, leaning away to fix Swiss with a scowl.

"Sorry," Swiss lies, "your hips looked like they missed me."

He hooks his chin over the little ghoul's shoulder and glances down while Dew snorts out a disbelieving laugh. The sound makes his chest jiggle the tiniest, most insignificant amount, and Swiss can't believe the things that movement does to the warmth in his belly.

"Sure they did," Dew murmurs, resting his own hands over Swiss's. He hums, nosing at the little ghoul's warm throat. He smells like whiskey and dishsoap for the most part, but he's carried a new scent for a short while now. Like...maple syrup, Swiss thinks.

"Not the only thing that misses me," he tries, brushing his thumbs under Dew's shirt, just along the bottom of his ribcage. Dew goes still, and Swiss steels himself to edge higher. Just enough to barely graze the skin he misses so much. The little ghoul gasps.

Then, as he's done every day for the last week, Dew stops his hands.

"Swiss," he warns, low. Swiss whines. He can't help it.

"Sorry, Sparky," he sighs, wrapping both arms around Dew's little waist instead. He knows when not to push. "I just -"

"Not here," Dew adds suddenly, and Swiss blinks.

"Huh?"

"My room," Dew mutters, shrugging off Swiss's grip and picking his headphones up. "Wait for me."

Swiss doesn't quite know what to do with himself. He really doesn't have much of a choice but to listen, Dew already going back to his task. Mountain catches his eye as he heads to he door and Swiss can only shrug.

Dew doesn't make him wait long, slipping through the door while Swiss sits at his fireplace, bouncing an anxious knee. The door is barely shut when Swiss looks up, and before he knows what's happening he has a lap full of Dewdrop.

Swiss groans when the little ghoul shoves his tongue in his mouth, kissing hard and deep, starved. Spidery fingers thread though his tight curls and Swiss's hands fly to Dew's waist, gripping tight.

"Dew," he manages to gasp between strokes of Dew's tongue, "fuck, what's - mmph - what're-"

"They miss you too," Dew blurts out, kissing a messy path down Swiss's throat. "Fuck, they miss you too."

Swiss groans deep in his chest, loud enough to nearly rattle the windows, and his bruising grip on Dew's waist loosens. He means to slide warm hands up his slender sides, to cup the little mounds he adores so much. Means to feel how hard those peaked nipples of his are beneath his palms.

Before he can, Dew catches him again. Grabs both of his wrists in his surprisingly strong grip.

Swiss doesn't mean the growl he looses, but it earns an eye roll from Dew just the same.

"Shush," he nips at Swiss's neck with chastising fangs. "Just...just gimme a second."

"For what?" Swiss adjusts the little ghoul, gets him in a proper straddle. He can feel the familiar warmth of Dew's cunt right through both of their jeans. "You finally gonna tell me what's been up your ass all week?"

"Rain, mostly," Dew says without missing a beat, and Swiss can't help but laugh. The corners of Dew's eyes crinkle, but there's something lining his face that Swiss can't quite place. He tips his head, leans in to press a kiss to the tip of Dew's nose.

"Seriously, what's up with you? You said nothing was wrong, but -"

"Promise you won't laugh," Dew interrupts softly, and Swiss cuts himself off with a confused sound. "I'll - I'll show you," Dew mumbles, fiddling with the buttons on Swiss's shirt, "if you promise not to laugh."

Swiss blinks up at him, and it hits him all at once how...vulnerable Dew looks. His proud features clouded with apprehension, kiss-reddened lips caught between his fangs, slight shoulders drawn tight. He tries very hard not to look at the way Dew's posture makes his tits that much more obvious.

"Oh, Dew," he says gently, resting a hand on his flushed cheek, "I only laugh at you when you want me to, you know that."

"I mean it," Dew insists, eyes hard. "It's...it's weird, and if you fuckin' laugh -"

Swiss cuts him off with a gentle kiss, and Dew relaxes just enough for Swiss to pull him closer.

"I promise, spitfire," he assures the little ghoul, pressing warm lips to the hollow of his throat. "I promise."

After a moment, Dew sighs. Nods. He pats Swiss's hands again and Swiss reluctantly lets go, silently mourning the loss of Dew's unnatural heat. But he lets Dew stand, lets him step back so Swiss can watch him pluck at the hem of his t-shirt. Swiss squeezes at himself though his jeans, cock fat and warm against his thigh. Dew watches him like a hawk, and after a beat takes a deep breath.

In one quick, smooth motion Dew strips off his shirt, and Swiss's dick twitches so hard he grunts, mouth watering at the beautiful sight before him.

The barely-there bumps Dew usually carried were a distant memory, his tits swollen into luscious, perky mounds that sit perfectly on his chest. His nipples are more pronounced too, stiff and flushed darker than their usual sweet pink. The rings threaded through them sparkle in the lamplight. Swiss can't help the way he gawps at them, and to his credit Dew doesn't try to hide. Hell, he's staring too. Frowning down at his chest.

"I knew they got bigger," Swiss mumbles without really meaning too, but it pulls a chuckle from Dew regardless.

"You've been staring enough to know," he grumbles, but there's something nervy threaded through the words. Takes away the acerbic edge they're meant to carry.

"Why?"

Not that it matters, but he can't help be curious. He's not even sure which 'why' he's asking - why they'd grown? Or why Dew had kept them hidden? Both, he supposes. He can't imagine why Dew thought he would actually laugh at this - all he wants is to bury his face in Dew's perfect little tits and never come up for air again.

"Dunno," Dew says with a shrug, and they bounce. Swiss starts to sweat. Dew brings those elegant hands of his up to cup his little tits and Swiss's eyes nearly bug out of his head. "They started swelling last week, I don't -" Dew gives them the lightest squeeze and it pulls a hiss from him. "They're so -"

"If you say 'sensitive' I'm gonna cum in my pants," Swiss announces, perhaps a touch dramatic, but it pulls a sound he really likes from Dew anyway. Honestly, it doesn't feel all that dramatic to Swiss. His balls hurt more and more the longer he ogles Dew's chest.

"That's the one," the little ghoul mumbles, weighing them in his palms. Swiss leaks copiously against his thigh. He's losing his mind, he's certain of it. It's spilling right out of his dick. He watches Dew give them a fondle, watches the way supple flesh gives under his fingertips. It's stunning.

He may just spill in his pants after all.

"Sore, too," the little ghoul adds, but he doesn't frame it like a complaint. "But, uh," Dew swallows, scratching at the back of his neck. "That's...that's not the weird part."

Swiss forces himself to look up at Dew's face, then. Drawn by the hesitance in the words. Swiss comes back to himself some at the sight, the hand on his clothed cock going still.

Dew looks terrified. Bright red and breathing faster, eyes blown so dark. Swiss pushes himself from his chair without a thought, settling himself on his knees before the little ghoul and holding his slender waist.

"Dew, baby, what is it?" He strokes rough thumbs over soft skin, watching Dew take careful breaths through his nose. "Are you sure -"

"It's weird," Dew insists, and oh, maybe that isn't terror Swiss sees on his face. "Swiss, I - fuck, just look."

Dew grabs hold of his hair, forces Swiss to look square at his puffy chest. His other hand curls around one of those firm mounds, squeezes, and -

"Oh Lucifer."

All the air rushes from Swiss's lungs when the first drips spill from Dew's nipple, flowing over pale skin. It's barely anything, no more than a few drops, but it forces palpable silence into the air. Swiss stares at Dew's tit while Dew stares down at him. Time probably doesn't freeze, but it sure feels like it does.

"I told you it was weird," Dew blurts, suddenly jerking away. Trying to step back, to cross his arms.

"Dew," he manages a hundred years later, voice thick, "was...did...are..." Swiss forces himself to look up, jaw slack. "...milk?"

Swiss pulls him close before he can, burying his face in Dew's neck and holding him so tight Dew yelps.

"Not weird," Swiss promises, kissing the words into overheated skin. "Not...not weird, firecracker, unholy shit."

Dew makes a hurt sound, but wraps his arms around Swiss's shoulders anyway. Holds him tight, tight as he can manage. Swiss can hear him sniffling, just a little, but it's nearly impossible for him to focus on anything but the press of Dew's chest against his own. He's really trying, he swears, but fuck is it hard.

"Dew, please," he pants, hips rolling into nothing and drooling against the little ghoul's throat. He knows how desperate he sounds and Swiss could not possibly care less. Not with how hard his cock throbs, how quick Dew's breathing has gotten. "Please, can I...you gotta lemme touch 'em, baby boy, please -"

"Shut the fuck up and do it," Dew demands, and Swiss needs no other encouragement.

The feel of them is exquisite, firm with just enough give. They still don't quite fill his palms, but it's close. Dew's jaw hangs lax while Swiss explores, his touch soft and reverent. His gaze remains firmly on Dew's dusky nipples, on the quick rise and fall of his narrow chest, but he remains hyper aware of Dew's mannerisms. His little gasps and grunts. Keeps himself on high alert for the first sign of any undue shame or discomfort.

"Did you really think I'd laugh at you?" Swiss traces the edges of his areolas with his thumbs and Dew's breath catches, muscles in his stomach fluttering.

"Dunno," Dew sighs, hands stroking Swiss's forearms. Grounding himself. "I don't...I thought -"

"Can I kiss them?"

Dew sways like he's dizzy, makes a gurgling sound, and then he's grabbing at Swiss's hair to drag him in. He wants to chuckle, but it's easy to groan instead.

Dew moans long and low when his Swiss's lips meet his heated flesh, when he kisses along the slope of that sweet little handful. His nails rake over Swiss's scalp when he presses a wet, sucking kiss to its underside, just where those stunning droplets fell earlier.

Swiss drops a little baby kiss onto the very tip of his nipple, and Dew makes a truly pathetic sound. Swiss licks his lips when he pulls back, cupping both of those little tits like they're precious. He gazes up at the little ghoul, drunk on the very idea of what he's about to do.

He gives them a firm squeeze, Dew chokes on his inhale, and the sound that escapes Swiss when those gorgeous nipples leak is pure sin.

A few pale drops flow over smooth skin, and Swiss is powerless but to lick after them. Every slide of his tongue is an offering at Dew's altar, worshipful and deeply needy. It tastes like mana from the heavens, like sweet sap from the tree of life itself. Swiss can't believe he gets to taste it, that Dew almost kept this hidden from him. It's sensational. Life-altering.

"Oh," Dew gasps when he squeezes again, milks out a little more, and Swiss stares up at him with blown-out adoration. "S-Swiss, will...fuck, will you suck on them?"

He doesn't have to ask twice.

Swiss doesn't know which of them it louder when he wraps his lips around a firm nub and begins to suckle, massaging it with his tongue. Dew gasps, covering Swiss's hand on his chest with his own. Encouraging him to massage there too.

Swiss's eyes roll back in his head when Dew starts to let down, sweet warmth coating his tongue.

He doesn't know when it happens, but at some point Swiss collapses. Slides from his knees and ends up sitting on the floor with his legs spread. Dew's straddling his lap again, hands in his hair while Swiss drinks him down, his slight body twitchy and coated in a fine film of sweat.

He doesn't know when it happens, but at some point Dew fumbles with both of their flys. Swiss can hear the rasp of zippers in the distance, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is the way Dew fills his mouth, the way he gasps and keens when Swiss gives him a firm suck. He pays attention to little else, hardly recognizes that the little ghoul is trying to shift.

Then searing heat envelopes his cock, and Swiss jerks so hard he pops off Dew's nipple. Drools a mouthful of milk down the little ghoul's belly, watching in a daze as it gathers in his barely-there happy trail. Dew's clit pokes stiff and red from his folds, and as Swiss watches his length disappear into Dew's cunt he swears everything else fades away.

"Why'd you stop?" Dewdrop whimpers, gasping as he takes Swiss to the hilt. They both moan, Swiss throbs, and when the little ghoul rubs his little tits in his face it takes everything Swiss has not to pin him to the floor and fuck him brainless. "C'mon," Dew goads, breaths uneven and so shaky, "let...let me feed you."

Swiss thinks he may not survive this night.

~~~~~~~

"You really don't know why?"

Dew shakes his head, humming when Swiss works out a knot in his shoulder. They've been in the tub for ages now, the little ghoul floaty and absent after taking Swiss's knot twice over. He's mostly back now, and it seems like as good a time as any to ask.

"Nope," Dew says, voice worn. "Asked Aeth too, he couldn't figure it out either."

Swiss wants to ask more questions, wants to help, but the Dew yawns. Snuggles himself back into Swiss's broad chest with a soft sigh.

"Can we sleep now?" He presses a kiss to Swiss's pec. "'m tired." Swiss drops a kiss into his squeaky-clean hair.

"'Course," he says, patting Dew's shoulder. "Can you stand, fireball?"

"Dunno," Dew murmurs, shrugging. "Carry me anyway."

"Swiss?"

Swiss snorts, but he's still too blissed out to argue. It's easy to slide himself from the steaming water, hoisting Dew over the side and sitting him on the vanity for drying purposes. Easy to towel the both of them off while Dew magickally blows out his hair. Easy to dress Dew in an oversized tee, one that won't chafe his tender nipples, and soft boxers. Easy to carry him around the mess they left on the floor and deposit Dew's spent body onto the sheets and get him tucked in. The little ghoul purrs up a storm through it all, sweet and sleepy as he is.

Swiss moves to climb in after him, but Dew perks up before he can.

"Yeah?"

"Tea?"

"Can I have some tea?"

Swiss raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Dew replies with a nod, snuggling back into the pillows. "There's a new one Mount made, has a purple tag. It's nice. Please?"

Swiss chuffs. The little guy really is sweet like this. He ruffles Dew's hair and smiles.

"Whatever you want, princess."

Dew chirrups and Swiss pads his way to the kitchen in search of tea. It's late, he can hear snoring from behind most of the doors in the hall, and when Swiss strolls into the common room he's surprised to find Mountain still on the couch. His book lies abandoned on the floor, glasses askew, and Swiss rolls his eyes with a smirk.

"Wake up, grasshopper," he lilts, patting the other ghoul on the chest. Mountain jolts awake with a gasp, blinking as he gets his bearings.

"Ugh," he groans, back cracking audibly when he pushes himself up. "What time is it?"

"Late," Swiss replies, covering up a yawn as he gathers a mug and their electric kettle. "Where's your purple tea?"

"My huh?"

"Teabags," Swiss clarifies, filling the kettle.

"Oh, uh," Mountain shoves himself from the couch on autopilot, easier for him to show than to tell.

He digs through the cabinet over the stove, pulling down a silver box with eight internal dividers. He groans at the state of its contents, what was undoubtedly once organized now in a messy pile.

"Purple is all I know," Swiss says, yawning again. "Dew said it was new one you made, I got nothin' else."

"What kind did you want?"

"Purple, huh?" Mountain sorts through the bags while the kettle heats, and as he does Swiss watches his brow slowly furrow. "Wait..." Mountain starts smelling the little bundles, huffs out a dammit, Sunshine, and Swiss raises an eyebrow.

"Something wrong?"

"Did you say Dew's been drinking this?" Now it's Swiss's turn to frown.

"I guess? He just asked me to make him the purple tea. I didn't ask questions. Why?" It takes him a second to notice Mountain's cheeks going pink. "Why?"

"These...shouldn't be here," he says quietly, making a pile of all the bags with purple tags. "I told Sunshine when she was helping me, violet and pink to the infirmary, lilac and peach to the kitchen. She said she...she said -"

Swiss gives him a look, and Mountain hangs his head.

"These are ones Aether requested," he explains, "for maternity. They're...they're to help with lactation."

The last word is said on a sigh, Mountain rubbing at his eyes as the realization hits. The kettle starts to whistle, and Swiss doesn't acknowledge it. Lets the thing shut itself off while the wheels turn in his head.

He should certainly tell Dew about this. Let him know what was happening, why his body had so suddenly begun to betray him. While the thoughts churn he can hear Mountain yammering on - he's sorry, it's his fault, any effects should fade in a couple of weeks without continued exposure. Swiss smiles to himself, turning to gather the kettle and Dew's chipped old Looney Tunes mug.

He grabs a purple labeled bag from the pile, and Mountain stares at him like he has three heads. Swiss shrugs as he sets it in the mug, pouring water over it and noticing with some amusement that the same maple syrupy scent Dew's been soaked in recently floats up on the steam.

"Take the rest to Aether," Swiss says, smirking while he dunks the teabag, watching it stain the water, "I'll tell him this is the last one." Mountain frowns.

"Swiss -"

"He's could add his own milk to this mug, Mount. One more round won't hurt him."

"Enjoy it," Swiss murmurs, pressing a kiss to Dew's temple. "That was the last purple one."

Swiss clicks his tongue, winks, and wanders back to Dew's room without another word.

He finds Dew half asleep and purring. Swiss pushes the mug into his bony hands while he curls in beside the little ghoul, basking in the soft, happy sound he makes at the first sip.

"Mmm, I'll get Mount to make more," Dew hums, drinking down the boiling hot tea as though it were tap water. "'S good shit."

He drains the mug quickly, yawning and shoving it back into Swiss's hands before hunkering down again. Swiss rolls his eyes, setting the thing to the side and switching off the bedside lamp. Swiss molds himself to Dew's back, wraps an arm around his waist.

Dew guides Swiss's hand up his shirt instead, settles it on one of his pert little tits, and Swiss selfishly hopes the swelling lasts a while longer.

He won't let Dew waste a drop.

#miasma's work #the band ghost fic #this is once again just a full fic omg #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swiss/dew #swiss x dew #transmasc dewdrop #my first foray into lactation! huzzah!#transghoul Tuesday

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wolfoftheblackflames · 1 month

Text

Help! I couldn't help myself and wrote more fluff! Enjoy ya Misfits!

Hooves and Wings:

“You have hooves?” A memory had made itself known to Charlie, who smiled fondly at a gift she was preparing.

It had been when she first met Vaggie, and the two became friends, though it was a rocky start with the angel not exactly settling down. (Cue Flashback)

It had been over several days since Charlie had rescued a cute girl by the dumpster. She hadn't noticed the golden blood until it was on the bandage over Vaggie's eye socket. “Hmm..” It made the princess curious but she decided to respect her friend's privacy. “Looks like it's healing nicely, shouldn't be too long now till you're fully recovered.” She smiled at Vaggie moving some of that short hair to the side.

“Still feels weird..” Vaggie muttered as the angel was given fresh bandages and a gauze over it. Charlie was gentle with her and smiled softly. “Yeah? Well I have something for you.” The blonde grinned slightly and took out a small box.

Vaggie tilted her head curiously, and with a nod from Charlie, the angel opened it and stared. “Esto es muy lindo..” (This is really cute.) She smirked a bit seeing the eyepatch in the box. “Thanks Charlie..” She added picking it up to examine it.

Charlie giggled. “I like making stuff so I figured I'd make this for you.” She blushed, scratching her cheek. The two were in their casual attire as Charlie playfully did some cute hand tapping on her own thighs. “There's also something else.” She added with a giggle.

Vaggie blinked and looked back into the box and found what looked to be a beautiful looking red-pink ribbon that matched the stitched in x design on the eyepatch. “You're spoiling me here…” She replied with a soft smirk.

“I couldn't help it.” Charlie gulped and rubbed her neck. “You're like the first friend I've had in a long time, so..”

“Well I'm flattered…” Vaggie smiled warmly, her eye focused on her friend.

Charlie stretched and got off the bed in the guest room. “It's getting late, I'll leave you alone so you can sleep. Good night Vaggie.” She smiled and went to her room.

What happened next surprised the demoness as she blinked hearing a knock. “It's open!” She called from her bed as she was slipping off her shoes. What greeted those ruby eyes was an adorable sight, Vaggie was in a beautiful white nightgown while holding a pillow and blanket. “Vaggie, what brings you here not that I don't mind?”

“You said we're friends right? I'm not used to it but.. Um.. Would you like to do a sleepover?” Vaggie rubbed her neck with a bit of golden hue to her cheeks.

Charlie beamed at the idea as she grinned patting the bed. “I'd love to! Just let me change into my pj's ok?”

Vaggie smiled and nodded though blinked, spying Charlie’s feet. “You have hooves?” She tilted her head.

“Y-yeah, I was about to do some cleaning actually…” Charlie blushed, lightly rubbing her neck. “Are they weird…?” She asked since before she was told they were by her douche of an ex.

“N-no, they're actually kinda cute?” Vaggie replied with an awkward smile. “It just caught me off guard seeing them, that's all…”

Charlie blinked a little surprised with a slight blush but that small crush she had on this cute woman only grew. She smiled fondly at Vaggie. “So what did you have in mind?” She giggled but then pointed to her large shelf of movies. “If it's a movie, feel free to browse my library while I go change.”

Vaggie nodded watching the princess do a light skip to the bathroom. Though once Charlie came back out in her red long sleeve pj shirt and pj pants she blinked seeing Vaggie sitting on the bed by the hoof care kit. “You've done a lot for me already, so may I help you with your hooves?” She asked as Charlie blushed slightly. “Sure..”

The two sat on Charlie’s rather large bed, though the princess fought the urge to squirm as Vaggie tickled her hooves while cleaning them. She found it cute seeing her crush so focused on the job at hand. “Pffft…. Vaggie!” She couldn't hold back a giggle. “That tickles!”

Vaggie blinked hearing Charlie snort, and it earned the princess a small laugh from her new friend. This only made Charlie crush even harder since that laugh was the cutest she's ever heard. Once their giggle fit was done Vaggie finished picking out the last of the debris from those cute red hooves. “There we go.”

Charlie giggled, flexing her hoof toes with a delightful grin. “You kept tickling me, you know?” She smirked, coming closer to Vaggie who blinked. “Time for some payback!”

“Charlie!” The angel couldn't escape the tickle barrage as she was once again a big giggle fit, with the most adorable snort. “Ack! Can't breathe!” She howled with laughter. She managed to catch her breath when Charlie looked satisfied with her tickle attack.

“You have the cutest laugh.” She grinned but blinked seeing Vaggie grumble with a small wince. “Oh sorry, did I hurt you?!” She was alert and attentive as Vaggie gave a small smile.

“No, I'm ok..”

“You sure?” Charlie gave a soft, concerned look. Vaggie giggled a bit and nodded. “Yeah.”

Charlie sighed in relief, she had been worried she aggravated the wounds. “Sorry about that though.”

Vaggie looked a little surprised but then smiled a bit and went to grab a movie. “Oh? A knight’s tale? That's a classic.”

“Yeah I like it cause the protagonist chased his dreams and achieved them.”

“Want to watch it then?” Vaggie smiled holding it up. “Yes please, I'll go grab us some popcorn!”

The two snuggled up under a blanket that was draped over their shoulders with a bowl of popcorn in Charlie's lap. Alongside them were two adorable goat dragon demons Razzle and Dazzle since who could leave those two out. Soon Charlie pushed play on their movie night. (End of flashback)

------

In the present day Charlie was grinning widely while carrying a gift box for her precious angel. “Hey Vags?” She peeked into their shared room.

“Hm?” Vaggie blinked looking back, she was casually cleaning her spear. “Oh hey sweetie.” She flashed a smile before her attention went back to the spear.

Charlie pouted a bit, but soon smirked devilishly. “I guess you're super focused right now, you don't want the gift I got you..” She stated in a playful sing-song-like tone. This caused the angel to look back at her, raising an eyebrow.

“You got something for me?”

“Yep. So could you put the spear down please?”

Vaggie shrugged and did so, she could always sharpen it after. “Alright, you have my attention, love, what is it?”

Charlie grinned and walked over carrying the box with a pretty red bow on top. “Just something I figured you needed babe.” She replied and handed Vaggie the box to open.

“Oh?” Vaggie removed the neatly wrapped bow and looked inside, she blinked, spying the gift. “Do you like it?”

“You got me a wing care kit?” She sounded surprised. Charlie grinned and nodded. “Yep, I figured since you regained your wings, I'd help you take care of them.”

Vaggie just looked at Charlie though smiled gently at her and planted a soft kiss to her wonderful girlfriend’s cheek. “Gracias mi amor..” (Thank you my love)

“I know a little bit about wings since when I was little my dad let me play with his…” Charlie replied and smiled. “Seeing how beautiful yours were, I knew for sure I'd have to get you some care stuff for them.”

Vaggie chuckled. “You spoil me, hon..” She soon brought out those gorgeous gray gradient feathered wings, which made Charlie squee. “I'm glad you like them..” She smiled a bit but then looked a little sad.

Charlie lightly cupped Vaggie's cheek, with the big secret out in the open, the princess knew why her sweet angel made such a face. “I absolutely love them, my cute song bird.” She smiled softly, lightly touching Vaggie's forehead with her own. “It makes me happy they came back because of the love we have.”

Vaggie closed her eyes with a soft smile, though her cheeks became a darker shade of gold hearing that new nickname. “Song bird?”

“Yeah, cause your wings and that beautiful voice you have love.” Charlie giggled nuzzling her. She peppered Vaggie's face and neck with kisses earning more giggles from her beautiful girlfriend. “Charlie stop, that tickles!”

The two remained close for a bit until Vaggie reluctantly pulled away. “You're such a goof..” She wiped a stray tear from her eye. “Go ahead.” Vaggie turned and stretched those wings out for Charlie while moving that long silvery hair away to expose more of the feathers and her back.

“Your goof.” The princess grinned and lightly started to run her fingers along the feathers. “Quick question?”

“Hm?”

“Does it get like… Bedroom-ish? Sorry but I'm curious.”

Vaggie rubbed her chin, though shuddered a bit when Charlie ran her fingers through the feathers near the base. “Yeah?”

“Oh.. Hehe..” Charlie had a cute grin. “OK so only in the bedroom then..” She couldn't help it as her tail popped out and started wagging a bit.

Vaggie noticed and gave a playful smirk. “You perv..” She teased making the hellborn turn red with blush.

Charlie decided to get Vaggie back for making her flustered with a soft kiss to the old scarring on her songbird's back. With both equally a blushing mess the two soon burst into laughter. Vaggie smiled fondly as she felt Charlie being careful with her wings, giving each feather a soft comb through and lightly taking out any damaged ones. “Ooo!” Charlie grinned, having some old feathers in her hands. “I kinda wanna turn these into stuffing for pillows…”

Vaggie snorted. “Of course you'd say that..” She chuckled, shaking her head. “What having a pillow that smells like you would be nice?” This only earned more laughter from Vaggie who held her stomach.

Charlie grinned, hearing that laugh she loved so much. She tried to continue, but Vaggie was in a cute giggle fit. “Vaggie, if you keep moving, I can't apply the oil!”

“Sorry, but the thought of you cuddling a pillow stuffed with my feathers is too cute..”

Charlie pouted but rolled her eyes smiling waiting for Vaggie to settle down. “That's the coverts done.” She stated making Vaggie look at her.

“Since when did you know wing terminology babe?”

“Uh, I.. Well I looked up how to care for wings beforehand…”

Vaggie blinked but smiled. “You planned this for a while huh?”

Charlie nodded softly, she smiled cutely as her fingers gently combed through the tertiary feathers. “Yeah… You always work so hard to take care of me and the hotel. I wanted to do the same back..”

“You do though..” Vaggie looked back and smiled.

“How so?” Charlie blinked as she couldn't help but be curious.

Vaggie thought for a moment then smiled. “You gave me a place to call home when I was torn away from Heaven..” She stated fidgeting a bit. “I'm not proud of who I was, I always felt so guilty about killing your people Charlie…” Charlie blinked but remained quiet as she went to the secondary feathers next. “Being an Exorcist, it was strange but I had a place there, even if the praises sent shivers down my spine.”

Charlie blinked but soon brought her tail to lightly hold Vaggie's wrist while her fingers carefully aligned those feathers. “Honestly I never really had many friends until I met you.” The angel continued finding comfort in the small gesture. “I had one job, to be a murderous killing machine..”

“Vaggie…” Charlie's heart ached for her girlfriend. Sure the secret did hurt her, but she gave a soft look. “You were scared to tell me weren't you? You basically didn't bother to correct me when I thought you were a sinner..”

“Yeah…”

Charlie dipped her head down and nuzzled into Vaggie's hair giving her girlfriend a soft kiss on top. “What happened to you then?”

Vaggie blinked but sighed. “I don't exactly like talking about it..” She muttered, looking away. “But I'll try..”

“Vaggie, you don't really have to say anything..” Charlie replied lightly, reaching over to take her hand.

“I do hon, it'll eat away at me if I don't.”

“But..”

Vaggie gave that hand a gentle squeeze. “One request please…” She sounded a little hesitant. “Anything love?”

“I like your hands… Could you keep roaming them on my wings, please? It relaxes me..”

Charlie nodded and continued her work. She looked worried at how nervous Vaggie looked. Her mind drifted back to her once, saying, “If I can't help you, then what's the point of me?” The princess gave another comforting kiss to her songbird's wing, this time making the angel relax more.

“You remember how we met, babe?” Vaggie's gaze drifted to a photo of the two together. “I do, it was horrible, you were so hurt…”

Vaggie steeled herself and took a soft breath. “I came down from heaven that day, and the guilt took over when I chased a child sinner to an alley… I let them go.” She stated as Charlie gasped.

The angel raised her hand to stop Charlie from speaking. “You won't like the next part..” She looked at her loving princess. “Do you… Still want to hear it?”

“Yes…” Charlie gave her a soft gaze. She loved Vaggie more than anything, even when the secret was revealed and she was hurting, Charlie didn't deny that deep in her heart, it already belonged to this wonderful person in front of her, her talk with Rosie reassured it tenfold.

Vaggie blinked, seeing that loving kind glint in those ruby eyes. She smiled softly, though her old wounds began to ache at the mention of the next part. “Okay…” Vaggie took a soft breath. “Next thing I knew, someone was behind me, and with much brutality, my eye was taken..”

Vaggie felt the heat from Charlie's demonic form, yet continued knowing it would piss off her beloved even more. “I was in shock and fell to my knees, and in a quick second I saw who it was, someone who I thought was a friend, but no she was petty and always had it out for me.” Venom dripped from her words as Vaggie gritted her teeth. “Lute, Adam's right hand bitch.”

Charlie stared and growled. “And she also ripped off your wings?! All because you spared a child?!” She moved her hands back and dug her claws into her own palms.

Vaggie looked at Charlie and blinked seeing those beautiful hands starting to drip blood. “Hon..” She gently took those hands. “I plan to settle the score next time I see that asshole.” She smirked looking determined.

Charlie looked at her with deep demonic red eyes. “Yeah, and I know you'll kick her ass. But love, we stick together ok?” She loosened her hands letting Vaggie hold them. “I don't want you getting hurt anymore.”

“Hey..” Vaggie lifted those hands up and kissed the palms. “I don't plan on dying in the battle with heaven, babe.” She then got up and picked up her spear. Charlie blinked, still fully demonic as she saw her beautiful angel do a small kneel, which reminded her of the knight from one of her favorite movies. “O-oh!” Charlie blinked, seeing her beloved take her hand and kiss the knuckles. “Sorry but I also plan to protect my home with everything I've got as well.”

Charlie couldn't help but swoon at Vaggie, who looked incredibly dashing right now. “Geez, someone's feeling theatrical today, I guess I rubbed off on you.” She teased but smiled warmly gently pulling Vaggie up from her kneeling. “You even remembered our first sleepover movie.”

Vaggie blushed but smiled at Charlie, though it was replaced with a cheeky grin as she set down her spear again. “Yeah, but I also remember this too.” Her deft hands came to Charlie’s sides and easily tickled her princess, sending the demoness into a laughing fit. “Nooo!”

This caused Charlie to revert back and whine as she howled with laughter. “Revenge.” Vaggie grinned as she let up the tickle barrage when Charlie tapped out. “Meanie…”

“You love it though.”

“True, now we have a big day of training tomorrow, shall we go to sleep?”

“Don't forget your hooves, hon..” Vaggie stated with a soft smile. “Oh, it's been so busy I almost forgot, thanks love.” Charlie flashed a cute grin. She then rewarded Vaggie with a loving kiss to the cheek.

“Go you goof…” Vaggie playfully shooed her away as Charlie giggled. The two then started their nightly routine, it was one of the last peaceful moments they were able to share before the big battle with Heaven.

#charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #hazbin hotel #cute as fuck #i wrote this instead of sleeping #fluff #lute mentioned #awkward vaggie is fun #flustered charlie is fun #starmoth #rainbowmoth #damn theres alot of chaggie ship name alternatives!#I love charlie's hooves #i think Vaggie has beautiful wings #hurt/comfort

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eddiemunsonw · 5 months

Text

None of your business | PART 2

PART 1 - PART 2

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Summary: It's one week later and Gator returns for more

CW/Disclaimer: Smut, handjob, oral (f and m)

Author's note: A few people wanted to see a part 2, so here it is! I have something sitting in my askbox still that I'll try to write for next, so don't expect a part 3 anytime soon (or ever really, if I'm being honest)

Words: 3694

Next Saturday came around and you found yourself paying more attention to the door than you usually would. Despite being the one doing the favor, you had enjoyed your little late night escapades with Gator more than you’d like to admit. In fact, it had given you your own release thinking back on it every night since. The thought of rocking his world to the point that he was more focused on wanting to kiss you rather than getting his own jizz out of his face was also hard to forget.

However, there was no Gator. You wondered if maybe he was too busy, duty calls and such, whatever that meant as Roy Tillman’s son. Maybe he had found the confidence to ask someone else now that he had a sliver of experience. You didn’t know why that annoyed you so much. Brutal Bob was the last to stick around that night. Normally he would have gone by now. He hadn’t asked for a refill in a bit and if he wasn’t still obviously breathing and looking alright you would have taken his temperature just to make sure. There was an amused expression on his face, which widened when you met him with a confused glance of your own.

“What are you so smiley about Mr Bob?” you asked with a chuckle. “I keep seeing that sneaky smirk of yours!”

Brutal Bob laughed, which sounded more like a cough and something gurgling in his throat.

“What’s it with you and Tillman’s boy, sweetie?”

“Tillman’s boy? What do you mean?”

You were genuinely curious, considering nothing had really been going on when Brutal Bob had been around.

“He’s been “sneakily” looking through the windows every ten minutes or so. You got a date or summit?”

Immediately, your head turned to the nearest window where sure enough, you could see just about the edge of a cap peaking from below. Did he just hide himself from you?

“Oh, I don’t know Bob, I think the likes of them fancy a proper girl. They’re not gonna find that one with me,” you said with a shrug. Brutal Bob shook his head with a smile and you got the feeling that he was smarter than he let on.

“Alright dearie, I will call it a night so you can go to bed as well. If it’s your bed you’re sleepin’ in t’night.”

“Bob! Stop it,” you chuckled as he threw you the fattest, most exaggerated wink as he got up from the barstool. “Mind your business old man.”

“Alright alright. Just nee responsible like I am!”

With one of his bouldering laughs (and coughs) he left the bar. If you weren’t mistaken, he announced his departure loudly once he was outside. It took about another five minutes for Gator to come in. With… flowers? Which he had clearly plucked out of someone’s garden. Interesting.

“I thought he’d never—” Gator coughed, “I mean, the lights were still on when I happened to drive by so I thought I’d come in and say hi.”

“A very spontaneous decision I’m sure,” you said with an amused smile and a pointed glance to the flowers in his hand. He followed your gaze and tightened his grip around the makeshift bouquet of daffodils.

“Just thought this dim bar could use some color,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“You think they’ll survive in this dim bar?” you asked curiously, wanting to see his response to your teasing.

“Just take the damn flowers, woman,” he grumbled, holding them out for you to take. “I need to take a piss.”

“Thank you for the flowers, man,” you called after him as he disappeared towards the bathroom as soon as you accepted the flowers. With a chuckle, you grabbed a vase to put some water in, giving them the spot on the bar that would get the most daylight. Daffodils usually didn’t last that long. When he came back, he glanced over at the vase and then his eyes flicked over to you to watch you warily.

“So?”

“They’re lovely, thank you. Who knew you could be cute when you wanted to,” you said with a subtle smile teasing your lips. Gator groaned. He wasn’t mad, just “annoyed”. Quotation marks were in order.

“Shut up, remember who you’re talking to. I’m not cute.”

“I think giving a woman flowers after getting a surprise first timer handjob is pretty cute.”

“Isn’t it like, the bare minimum for first date shit? What’s cute about the bare minimum?”

It sounded like he genuinely wanted to know. You decided not to tell him that the fact he had been waiting outside for the perfect moment to step in was cute too.

“Sometimes I think things people do are cute when you don’t expect it from that particular person. I expected you to… I don’t know. I actually expected you to not come in at all, at some point,” you told him honestly. Gator frowned and stepped behind the bar, finding his comfort in your close proximity again.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked, again, genuinely confused. You took a step towards him as well, waiting for him to back away except, he didn’t.

“Well… thought you’d find it elsewhere than the last resort now that the awkwardness of the first time has passed.”

You had no idea why you were being this honest with him. Maybe it was because he was looking at you with an openness you hadn’t seen before. He was still frowning, but it was easy to see through the tough exterior.

“I don’t see why I’d search for someone else when I already got myself a woman right here,” Gator mumbled. “Besides, I don’t know everything yet. You said I wouldn’t be able to get you off so why would I bother with someone else? I want you to tell me what to do. So I can…”

Find someone more suitable and prettier for my needs, you finished off in your head. When he seemed to hesitate, you promoted him to answer. You just wanted him to confirm it for your own sake.

“So you can…?”

A blush spread on his cheeks but his eyes flared with annoyance. One step closer and he towered over you. It shouldn’t make your heart beat this fast to see his gaze drop to your lips.

“Just— shut up! Shut up and let me… do the… do it back.”

“Do what back?”

“Finger you.”

He gave you a challenging look as if to say, yeah I’m using big boy words and so what? You couldn’t help but laugh and felt a little guilty when the confidence drained from his face.

“What?!”

“Nothing.”

“Spit it out, woman.”

“Ah, if only it was said with a little less disdain, I might have considered complying...”

“Do you want me to finger you or not?” he asked impatiently. From the way he was fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket, you figured he was the one really wanting to do the deed. Return the favor, if you will.

“Well jeez I’m gushing down there from this sensual foreplay, oh my,” you mumbled sarcastically. “You’re not gonna get me wet with just your fingers, you gotta put some work into it, get me in the mood.”

“Females are such a handful…”

“Women just require a more complicated manual. Men are embarrassingly easy honestly.”

“Men are not embarrassing!” Gator protested.

“Right, tell that to the string of jizz nearly hitting your eye out of eagerness last week, hm?”

Gator grabbed you roughly by the shoulders and pushed you against the wall right next to all the expensive liquor. The bottles rattled faintly as you gasped in a breath.

“I’m fucking done. Never mind this- this bullshit—”

You grabbed his hands from your shoulders and put them on your waist instead. Confusion mixed with anger, though it was more so exasperation, etched into his face. You felt his fingers flex just lightly under yours.

“Come on. Touch. Show that you care about her. Show her that it matters to you how she feels too.”

It kind of sucked, removing yourself from the narrative despite being the most prominent factor there alongside him. However, since he clearly had plans to learn and move on, you didn’t want to let your mind linger too much on what could have been. After a moment, you let go of his hands when you felt he wanted to let them wander on his own. Whichever words he had left for you died on his tongue when you let go of a soft, content sigh. His hands were big and frankly it had been a while since someone touched you with such tenderness. Gator watched your face like a hawk, focused on every reaction his wandering hands caused. As his thumbs brushed the underside of your boobs, his lips parted to run his tongue along them. Your eyes shifted towards his and you were surprised to meet his gaze, a softer one this time.

“Can I touch your tits?”

There was nothing that had prepared you for Gator Tillman asking for permission rather than just taking it. You wondered why that was. As far as you knew, the Tillmans never asked for anything. They took. Normally you probably would have giggled at the way the words left his mouth, but right now you only found yourself nodding. Gator’s hands didn’t waste a second to cup them fully, squeezing them over and over as if they were the first pair of boobs he ever laid his hands on. It probably was. Soft curse words rolled over his lips in quick succession, his eyes full of lust as they trained themselves on the view his hands created. He seemed to drown in the feeling, the freedom to give into his urges. You gently cleared your throat and his eyes immediately flicked up.

“Bad?”

“No, it’s- it’s alright.” It was better than alright. “Was just wondering if you were still with us,” you finished with a soft smile. Gator rolled his eyes and moved his hands back down to your waist, pulling it against his own.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he mumbled and with the pressure you felt straining in his pants you wondered if he made a subtle innuendo there. You nodded and he moved away until your hands grabbed his waist to keep him there.

“This part can be good too,” you told him gently, emphasizing what you meant by a roll of your hips. His breath stuttered and he bucked his hips against you, forehead coming down to rest against your own.

“T-That’s uh— But, for you too?” He struggled to make coherent sentences. You looked down at your skirt, considering. While you weren’t much of a skirt wearer, you had to admit that you had pulled on this stretchy short pencil skirt with Gator in mind. It would just be easier to move things out of the way, wouldn’t it?

“Less clothes in the way helps,” you mused softly, as you hitched up your pencil skirt until it rested on your waist, black tights and matching black panties on display in the dim light of the bar. Gator’s hands immediately came down to grasp the curve of your hips, his fingers digging deeply into the soft skin.

“Fuck… you’re…”

For some reason, he stopped himself and instead fumbled with his own pants until he could push them down to his knees. You didn’t have to tell him to slot his leg between your thighs as his natural instinct took over. His forehead came to rest against yours again as he rolled his hips deliciously against yours. An easy moan left him as soon as he found a rhythm, his hands holding your hips hard enough to bruise. You flung your arms around his neck and glanced over his shoulder towards one of the windows, realizing you never shut the blinds.

“You know… any passerby could see us right now,” you whispered into his ear. His breath was picking up as he rolled his hips quicker and a shaky moan left him at your words.

“Fuck, you can’t just say that shit!” You could tell he tried to sound annoyed rather than horny, though he failed miserably at it. Your smile rested against his cheek.

“Oh, you like that, hm?”

He mumbled something incoherent.

“Shut up.”

Oh. Hm.

“Make me.”

For a moment, Gator stopped moving, as if his brain couldn’t keep up with both your conversation and the actions of his hips. Then, his gaze snapped up, his face already so close to yours.

“Say that again,” he ordered, even though his expression was more hopeful than demanding. You nodded, a smile teasing your lips.

“Make. Me.”

Gator crashed his lips against yours and moved them eagerly yet so clueless, while his hips failed to maintain their rhythm now that he was occupied with kissing you. It was a little sloppy, but he happened to use just the right amount of tongue and for some reason it was working for you. You needed to gasp for breath and right in that moment, you felt his grip on your right hip loosen as his hand wandered down and slipped below your tights. Normally, you’d tell him that a little teasing above the fabric could be very enticing as well, but right now you honestly really just wanted to feel his calloused fingers against your skin. He clumsily found his way down and immediately started rubbing you way off your clit which you couldn’t really fault him for. Some men still couldn’t find the clit after several encounters.

His impatient kisses faltered a little when you wrapped your hand around his own, probably fearing he’d done something wrong. To assure him he had nothing to worry about, you kissed him again and adjusted his fingers to where you needed them. Hesitantly he continued to move them once your hand slipped out again and when it was rewarded with a soft moan against his lips, he rubbed your clit a little faster.

“Good?” he sighed against your lips, not giving you the time to answer with words as he stuck his tongue inside your mouth again. You hummed in approval and moved your legs apart a bit more to give him better access. Apparently he noticed, because his free hand wandered down your hip to hoist it up, his hand easily holding it there.

“Oh, Gator—”

“Yeah?” You felt him smile against your lips and his next words sounded a little cocky. “You like that, huh? Like it when I play with you baby?”

Very cocky, actually, all things considered. But god it was working for you. He teased your entrance with newfound confidence and after feeling around your wetness he was quick to add a second before he actually started thrusting his fingers into your cunt in quick succession. His palm happened to make just the right contact with your clit, which you considered beginner’s luck on his end. On your end, it was pure bliss. Your hips bucked into his hand and a low chuckle left his lips.

“Not so talkative now, eh? Jesus you’re wet down there. It’s like— you’re just so wet for me. Because of me.”

His stupid words and his quick finger work were what pushed you over the edge not much later. It wasn’t the best orgasm you ever had, but you certainly weren’t complaining either. A little out of breath, Gator reached for your face after gently letting your leg back down.

“I think I’m a natural, huh?” he mumbled with a cocky grin, “can fucking smell you.”

And just like that, he brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled. Without removing his gaze from you he experimentally gave his finger a lick, followed by a groan.

“Fuck…”

One moment he was in front of you and the next he was down on his knees, pulling your tights and panties down and pushing your legs apart before hoisting one over his shoulder. His nose tickled you as he accidentally leaned in too close, though he made quick work of letting his lips follow the same trail, and then his tongue.

Eagerly, he started to lap up your juices in eager licks from your dripping cunt all the way up to your clit. You had never been eaten out this hungrily, noisily. His spit mixed with your juices was running down your thighs as he grunted into you, licking and sucking everywhere until it was all cleaned up. You were almost on your way to your second orgasm when he suddenly stopped and you realized you had been moaning and grabbing onto his hair desperately. You wanted to wipe the smug expression off his face but instead all that came out was:

“Please.”

His chuckle vibrated against your clit right before he took it between his lips and sucked. His fingers found your cunt again and it was easy to forget that this man was a virgin a week ago. His fingers could use some work but holy shit his mouth was heaven sent. He moaned with you when you grabbed onto his hair tighter and rode yourself to your orgasm on his tongue. When you glanced down at a particular desperate moan from his lips, you noticed he was jerking himself off.

“Don’t come,” you warned, trying to sound stern purely because you wanted to listen to his protests. When his hand didn’t slow down, you nudged his balls with the toe of your shoe.

“Don’t.”

Sure enough, his hand slowed and his mouth worked faster. You were certain you nearly pulled out his hair with the force you held it with but he didn’t seem to mind. Once again you couldn’t help but look down and to your surprise he was watching you as your hips moved over his tongue. That intense gaze was all you needed to get there a second time.

Gator immediately went for cleaning you up with his tongue again but you pulled him back by his hair this time and made him get up so you could drop to your knees instead.

“Oh…”

He watched your hand as you wrapped it around his base and bit his lip hard enough to bleed when you rested your tongue under the head of his throbbing cock. His hair was a mess thanks to you and together with the rosy cheeks, he had never looked cuter (and hornier). He frowned a little when you grabbed his hand and guided it to the back of your head where you helped him grab onto the makeshift ponytail. Quickly catching on after that, you watched as his pupils blew wide into lust and his hand tightened around your hair as he started to move his hips. Slowly at first, and you assumed he did that so he wouldn’t blow his load in two seconds, then faster, and faster, and sure enough in under a minute, he was done. His hips stuttered as weak, high pitched, dragged out moans left him while he enjoyed the warmth of your mouth. He kept you there for a moment, nose buried in his pubes, looking up at him as you swallowed around his head.

“God, fucking look at you…” he mumbled. “Wanna keep you there forever.”

Yet, he pulled back and pulled you back up. His lips ghosted yours with a temporary hesitance before he kissed you softly. There was no rush this time when he tenderly explored your mouth, his hands resting on your hips.

It surprised you when he pulled your skirt back down before he pulled his boxers up and the smile he had was calmer than any you had seen before.

“Can’t have people get a look at you,” he mumbled, as if you practically hadn’t been giving a show to any possible passerby. You doubted anyone would have seen, considering the time, but still. A hesitant smile formed on your face and you nodded quietly. He’d probably go somewhere else now, right? To someone else? You hadn’t done everything but the last part was honestly the easiest if you did the rest well enough. Gator took your chin between his fingers and gave you a concerned look.

“Why are you so quiet? Did I hurt you or something?”

“No, you didn’t, I’m fine.”

Gator rolled his eyes at your obvious lie and bent down to help you back into your panties and tights. As if that would help. If anything, these unexpected kind gestures only made it harder. His next question surprised you.

“Why’d you say “touch her” earlier? Make “her” feel good?”

Honestly, you wish he just left. What kind of question was that? Wasn’t it obvious?

“Well, since I know you’re here to… learn, and it’s not about me or anything, I thought I’d… I don’t know. Just removed myself from the narrative I guess.”

“Well that’s stupid,” Gator mumbled. “I’m here to have sex with you, not someone else. I came back, didn’t I? I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t good and… tonight was really good. Like, better than watching porn.”

You snorted and felt relief slowly surge in your body as you took in his words.

“I sure hope so, yeah,” you sighed with half a smile.

“Are you only having sex with me because I’m a virgin? Is it a savior complex kind of thing?” Gator looked at you intensely, impatient for your mouth to give the answer.

“No.”

“Why then?”

“Because I…”

Like you.

“I like you,” Gator blurted, voicing your own thoughts out loud. “I only wanna have sex with you. I wanna go all the way someday too but… not now.”

He looked a little shy, as if being open about his feelings was a completely new concept to him. It probably was.

“What do you wanna do now?”

“Kiss you. But only if you like me back.”

You smiled and loosely wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I like you back.”

“Good.”

He kissed you slowly, with the silent promise of doing it again, and again, and again.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

#gator tillman #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x y/n #joe keery

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the-milk-monarch · 4 months

Note

Hello! I just want ya to know that u are my favorite writer for tdi in all honesty. I love how thought out your work is and how detailed it is. I saw that you wrote for Cody If so, could you possibly write a thing about how they would act if the reader was Chris’s favorite intern, and would sneak free gifts to help them in challenges (not that big just little small things) like a sweater for when they are somewhere cold, or a cookie if chefs cooking was bad. Could they also be confident and funny? (Strong reader supremacy).

I know you have a lot on your plate, it’s ok to deny or take as long as you need. Feel free to use this idea for other charecters :)

I love this gif

☣ Aw that's so sweet to hear, tysm!! I never thought anyone would enjoy my writing so much so that's really lovely to hear 🫶 I try my best to write well thought out stuff bc I honestly enjoy thinking about it lol

[𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂'𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝚂/𝙾]

[𝙲𝚘𝚍𝚢]

⚠︎ | setting: Total Drama: World Tour

Cody really likes being around you.

You emit energy that just gives him that daily boost.

Whether it's your confidence and lightheartedness or a good joke, he usually has a smile while hanging around you.

He also likes to join in on playing the comedian with you if he feels creative, so you're a fun duo!

He's curious why Chris likes you so much.

I mean, he can see why, you're like, the best person ever to be around, (in his opinion) but still.

And you're kind enough to share anything extra with him!

You got him by a surprise when it first happened, as at the time you were friendly, but only briefly spoke to each other.

Next on the trip list was "Yukon". You knew it was gonna be cold. But being the TV host's favorite intern wasn't that bad, you knew you were probably gonna get decent clothing. As you expected, the temperature was freezing. But of course, Chris couldn't be cold, so he got himself a cozy and stylish jacket. You and Chef also got the blessing of getting something warm to wear, unlike the rest of the campers. You felt some hope after Chris announced that he ordered the jackets for the others, but it quickly washed away when you heard his response to Heather that "they should arrive in six to eight weeks". You sighed, but ultimately you were helpless to do anything. You took a liking to Cody, he was fun to be around and you thought his "tough man" was both entertaining and kinda sweet. I mean, at least he tried, right? You started talking in the short moments when you both had a break and a chance to interact with someone in between the challenges. You never went out of your way to help anyone as it was technically cheating, but you felt like you had to do something when you saw Cody freezing after he fell into the cold water and Sierra had to rescue him. You saw her throw him on the land from the floating ice block, thinking he's somewhat safe now, until you heard the abrupt sound of him hitting the nearby mountains which made you cringe from the secondhand pain. Once the camera focused on the other contestants trying to make it through the challenge, you sneakily approached Cody, who was visibly shaking while laying on his back and processing what just happened. "Oof- Dude, you alright?" You hovered above him with a concerned look on your face. "Y-Y/N?" He managed to stutter out while the cold tried to shut up him up. You offered him a hand so he could get up, to which he accepted with a shaking grip. Without a word, you gave him the only thing you had on you, your jacket. "T-That's for me?" He asked, a bit in disbelief for your kind act. "Of course, I can't let you freeze to death." You quickly explained with a smile on your face. "But what about you?" He questioned once more, seeing as you had nothing else to put on. "Hey, I haven't fallen into the freezing water, did I?" You pointed out, although you appreciated him worrying about you as well. "R-Right." He flashed a shaky smile and extended his hand as you passed him the clothing item. "T-Thank you." He tried to keep his teeth from grinding, which stopped as soon as he put it on. The cold was still biting your ass, but at least you felt good knowing he wasn't about to die anymore. Cody started to feel a bit awkward seeing you start to shake, though. "Hey- now that you're the one being cold, I feel kinda selfish here." He admitted, halfly-joking. You took a second before responding. "Well- There's always an option with huddling for warmth" You responded, also halfly-serious. You didn't mind close contact and free warmth, so you hoped Cody wouldn't either. "Unless you got cold feet." You heard a slight chuckle come out of his lips after your words. "Okay. But only to break the ice." He put on a grin which showed his goofy tooth gap. He was pleasantly surprised with the amount of casualness from you, but also a bit lost on how to act, so he resorted to lightning up the mood as well. You reciprocated the giggle and stepped closer, feeling his body against yours. He hesitated a little, but finally embraced you into his arms. "Don't let Sierra see you though, you might make some enemies with her after that." He warned you only slightly serious about it.

Cody was far more casual and friendly with you after that one kind gesture.

And with time, he began to see you as legit one of the closest people he got to meet on the show.

But the thing that made him enamored in you was when you got to his heart through his stomach.

You knew that the teams had to endure Chef's horrible cooking each time they lost, and you were glad when you didn't have to worry about the food being a probable cause of your death when Chris gave you your share of the meals. So, naturally you also wanted to grant that opportunity to your close acquaintance as well. Per usual, you approached Cody after you had a moment to yourself. "Hey Codemeister, what's up?" He turned his head towards you as he heard the familiar tone of your voice. "Y/N, hey!" His face lighted up and he straightened his back to properly look at you while sitting on the crappy, wooden seat, "Had your dinner already?" You asked casually, sitting next to him. "If that's what you call it- yeah." He cringed at the economy class food. "Why?" "Well, I just had this cookie that i conveniently kept for you, so..." You slightly teased as your hand slowly got the packaged, delicious goods out of your pocket. "What, dude, no way!" He gasped slightly as he saw the cookie in it's glory. "It's mine?" "Yeah." You nodded with a smile, already happy about his excited reaction. "You're amazing!" He attacked you with a hug without thinking twice. You felt Sierra staring daggers at you.

#total drama #total drama x reader #x reader #headcanon #imagine #gn reader #gender neutral reader #cody #td cody #total drama world tour #td cody x reader #ask #request #headcanons #total drama cody x reader #intern reader

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elizaditton · 1 month

Text

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 16)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

A/N & T/W: Hey guys, just as a heads up I wanted to let you know that this chapter contains an intrusive daydream of Kaylin's that may be uncomfortable or traumatic for some of my readers. It deals with food and the idea of humans and pertheans eating together. I wanted to convey how this makes Kaylin uncomfortable without making my readers uncomfortable. I've thought a lot about what I've written and I don't believe I've crossed any lines, but for those like me who like G/t but struggle with the idea of food or sharing a meal in that context (and of course, the fears associated with that), the content may be uncomfortable to read. I just want to make it clear that my content does not and never will contain fetish material. My writing will always be safe for work content as I strive to please God in all I do. With that being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

- - - - - - - - - -

It was only about a month ago that Dad and I packed our bags and moved half way across Koronia, and now it's already Rosan. At first, I wasn't expecting much from my dad's hometown, but I've been blown away with how much has happened since we arrived in Chancelor. I wasn't expecting to be forced into attending a deskmate school, and I certainly wasn't thinking I'd ever become friends with a perthean. I always worried about what would happen if a perthean found out about my fear, but never in a million years would I have ever predicted that one would actually want to help me overcome it!

Derrick and I have met up after school a few times now, and although these meetups have been helping me a little, I'm still not sure what my deskmate has in mind for us in the long run. Surely there's more to this than practicing eye contact and learning how to step onto a perthean's palm without falling over.

I think through what could possibly be next as Brittney and I make the trek from the cafeteria back to the pickup area.

"I really wish we could all just have our lunch together, you know?" Brittney says with a huff, interrupting my thoughts.

"What?! What makes you say that?" I ask, my heart skipping a beat at her suggestion as I desperately try to keep my mind from forming any pictures of sharing a lunch table with pertheans.

"It's just... we'd have so much more time to hang out as a group if we had our lunch together! Since this school is so focused on getting humans and pertheans to get along, you'd think they'd want us to have meals together, right?"

I hadn't thought about it before, but I guess what Brittney's saying makes sense. I was surprised when I first found out I wouldn't be sharing Physical Education or lunch periods with my deskmate, but in my relief, I decided not to question it. I suppose separating for P.E. makes sense since it's not a good idea to mix humans and pertheans for strenuous activities like exercise, but what about lunch period?

"Come to think of it," I start, a part of me curious to know and another part of me fearing the answer, "why do we separate for lunch period, anyway?"

Brittney's eyes narrow as she looks away, her lips pouting.

"It's all that Steven's fault!" she says.

I blink. "Steven? Who's Steven?"

"Soaring Steven, back in the twenties. Lunch period was shared here until he had his deskmate throw him across the cafeteria to see if one of their friends could catch him. Landed in a girl's soup and even broke some bones in the process," Brittney says.

I shudder at the realization that humans are light enough to pertheans to be thrown across a room by them. Not only that, but we're small enough to swim in their soup, too! I'm relieved that I don't have to suffer through a shared lunch period with my deskmate, but I can't stop myself from shaking at the idea.

I turn from side to side only to realize that I'm surrounded by mountains of colossal foods stacked much taller than I am with no way of escape. I spin around to face a wall of green fabric that I trace up, up, and up to my deskmate's enormous face. He ravenously gorges himself on nearly half of the sandwich in his hand—tearing off a hunk bigger than me—and thoughtfully chews his meal, his eyes locked with mine. My legs tremble beneath me as I stumble backwards, my eyes darting anywhere but the sight in front of me. This isn't happening.

As I continue to inch away from the perthean in front of me one of my feet makes contact with a thick metal prong, causing me to let out a yelp as I fall flat on my back. Lightheaded and out of breath, I sit up and discover the object was one of the tines on a huge fork.

A massive digit rests under my chin and leads my gaze back to the tall perthean boy in front of me. He gulps down the rest of his sandwich while his big blue eyes scrutinize my fallen form.

"Kaylin," he chuckles. "You're so... tiny, you know that?"

I stare into those massive blue orbs of his as blood rushes to my cheeks, making my ears hot. Anxiety floods my nervous system leaving me incapable of doing anything but quiver where I sit.

Tiny...?

"Anyway," Brittney says, interrupting my thoughts again, "after that incident... the school decided it would be best for deskmates to have 'less time for shenanigans' or something like that. If you ask me, they shouldn't have punished the whole school for a couple of students' idiocy!"

I stare down at my quaking hands. Tears prick the edges of my glazed eyes, and one or two trail down my face. I try to steady my breathing, but my lungs begin to take in more and more air at an increasing rate.

"Hey," Brittney says, turning to me. "Kaylin, are you—"

WHAM!

Something crashes into Brittney and I, interrupting our conversation and sending us both to the floor along with the contents of our open bookbags.

"Hey! What's the big idea?!" Brittney says, dusting herself off as she sits up.

"I-I'm sorry, I couldn't—" utters a boy on the floor in front of us. He coughs, lowering the tone of his voice. "I mean, it was an accident."

Brittney sighs. "That's okay. Here, let me help you with your books."

"Th-that won't be necessary." The boy says, brushing his black hair away from his green eyes before scrambling to pick up his books.

I rub my head, which throbs from the impact with the boy. I blink a few times, staring at him. He's familiar to me, but I'm not sure why.

"Hey, wait a minute," I start, remembering my encounter with that boy from my apartment last week. "Aren't you—"

The boy looks to me, eyes wide, and shakes his head vigorously. He grabs the rest of his books from the floor and stands, running off to the balcony without another word.

"Ugh! Rude! And hasn't he ever heard of a bookbag?" Brittney grumbles. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I say, picking up Brittney's Algebra textbook and passing it to her.

"The nerve of that guy! 'That won't be necessary...' just who does he think he is bumping into people and then running off like that?"

As Brittney passes me my Koronian and Biology textbooks, I can't help but wonder why Sam was in such a hurry to get away from us. He's run away from me twice now, which I find a little odd. And why wasn't he wearing his glasses? He probably could have avoided bumping into us if he had worn them.

"Hey, what's this?" Brittney says, picking up my sketchbook and flipping through the pages.

My heart sinks heavily in my chest. I've never let anyone look through my sketchbook before! Most of the drawings in there are unfinished sketches, many of which I never ended up being happy with, and none of which I feel too excited about sharing. But as Brittney flips through the pages, her eyes widen in awe with every new piece of artwork she lays eyes on.

"You made these? They're incredible!" Brittney exclaims.

"They're not that great, really." I say, reaching for the sketchbook.

Just as I'm about to take the book away from Brittney, she lets out a big gasp and turns the interior toward me. On the pages are two nearly completed sketches of Captain Tristen and Merlot from Stranded, respectively. They're old drawings, and not ones I'm particularly proud of. My insides convulse and cringe as I'm met with the sight of improper foreshortening and all sorts of rushed, sloppy details.

"You draw Stranded?! You know this is my favorite show ever, right?!"

Brittney babbles on elatedly and at a rate I find myself straining to keep up with. I can hardly make out what she's saying, but from what I can tell she's gushing about some recent revelations about Merlot and how she was able to predict them in her fanfic.

"Anyway, here! See? This is my cover!" Brittney says, pulling out her phone and swiping to Splosion. She shoves her phone into my hands to reveal the cover for 'Jack And Merlot: A Frame Of Mind,' which consists of a crude doodle of the titular duo holding hands.

"Oh, um... cute!" I respond, my mind still struggling to process what she's going on about.

"Do you think you could draw me a new cover?" Brittney blurts out, her hands clenched excitedly.

"I-I don't know... wouldn't it be put online for anyone to see?" I ask, the idea of strangers seeing my art making my insides flip.

"Well, yeah, but they don't have to know who drew it unless you want them to!" Brittney responds, folding her hands together and pleading with her big brown eyes. "Come on! Pleaaase? Your art is so good!"

I think for a moment as I look into Brittney's unrelenting puppy eyes. I guess it wouldn't hurt to draw her a picture for her story, especially if no one has to know I'm the artist.

"Sure," I finally answer.

"Yippee!" Brittney exclaims, jumping up and down like a little kid.

"Come on," I say, handing Brittney's phone back to her and taking back my sketchbook. "We're going to be late for sixth period!"

"Oh! Right!"

Brittney turns and hurries down the hall to the balcony. Before following after her, I quickly flip through my sketchbook and land on a page with a finished sketch of a perthean boy and a human girl laughing together under a cherry tree. My cheeks redden when I lay eyes on it and my insides flip around again. I let out a sigh, relieved that Brittney didn't get this far into the book.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"So!" Brittney exclaims from the balcony, her hands secured on the railing as she beams up at my deskmate. "Your birthday! What do you have planned?!"

Derrick rubs the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. "I didn't exactly plan anything."

"Come on," Brittney says, "there has to be something you'd like to do on your special day! Can't you think of anything?"

Derrick places a hand under his chin and closes his eyes, thinking for a moment. "Well, I won't be home until around five, since I have... an appointment."

Kevin looks up from his phone. "You made an appointment on your birthday? What for?"

"I— well, yeah. It's a... doctor's appointment. I forgot to reschedule," my deskmate says, glancing in my direction. "But if you guys want to come over to my house at 5:30 or so, we could hang out? Maybe play some games?"

"I'm in!" Brittney hollers, pumping her fist in the air.

"Sure," Kevin answers, his eyes once again glued to his phone. "Need us to bring anything?"

"You could bring some games if you have any, but other than that nothing comes to mind," Derrick says.

Brittney turns to me, her eyes wide with excitement. "You're coming too, right Kaylin?!"

The world begins to spin as the others' eyes all turn to me. Me? Go to a perthean's house? No way! The enormous classrooms at school are hard enough for me to deal with as it is, but an entire house? I don't think I could handle it! The sheer scale of everyday items would overwhelm me for sure!

"I... don't know," I say. "I think my dad needs me home for... something." I mentally kick myself for not being able to think of any kind of real excuse.

"I'm sure your dad won't mind!" Brittney reasons. "After all, birthdays only come once a year!"

I look around at the group. Brittney's grinning with her hands pressed together, gazing at me expectantly. Derrick gives me a knowing smile, his brows upturned. And then my eyes fall on Kevin. His narrowed brown eyes look void of any life as he stares me down from above. My gut twists and turns as the weight of his stare presses down on me.

I can't go to this party. No way. Not if he's coming. How did Derrick manage to become friends with this guy, anyway? Was it just because of Brittney? And why is Brittney even with this guy? They're complete opposites! My fear may include all pertheans, but it's pertheans like Kevin that really terrify me!

"Kaylin?" Brittney says, pulling me from my thoughts. "What do you say?"

"I-I'll talk to my dad," I stutter. "But I really think he needs me for... that thing."

"Great! See you all there!" Brittney spins around with her arms stretched wide and heads for the door. I don't think she registered what it was I said at all.

"Hang on there, princess," Kevin says, causing Brittney to come to a halt and turn back around.

Princess? I never expected a guy like Kevin to call his girlfriend something so sappy!

"Yes, my prince?" Brittney answers, clasping her hands together as she flutters her eyelashes.

"If you're going to Derrick's place, you might as well come with me. You can't get there by train, you know," Kevin says.

"I guess you're right," Brittney giggles.

Kevin looks over his shoulder, presumably to see if any teachers are nearby, and then offers his open palm to Brittney who runs and leaps into it with a loud 'wheee!' The way she flew into his hand without a second thought makes me think about how I can barely even walk onto Derrick's open palm without struggling and stumbling. How does she make it look so easy?

"Shh!" Kevin hushes his girlfriend. "I'm not supposed to pick you up this way in here!"

"Sorry," Brittney says, her lip protruding in a pout.

"See you later," Kevin says to Derrick before walking off, mumbling something to Brittney about how he doesn't want to get in trouble 'again.' I guess I'll have to ask Brittney what that means later.

Derrick looks at me and laughs.

"What?" I ask.

"I'd like to see you jump into my hand like that," he says.

My face reddens, and I immediately avert my gaze. "D-don't be ridiculous! What those two did was dangerous!"

"I know, I know," Derrick says. "It's just that..."

His unfinished phrase hangs in the air for a moment, causing me to wonder what it is he means to say. I look back at my deskmate, his gaze fixed on me. What emotion is filling his eyes I can't say, but what I do know is that something has to be weighing on his mind.

"It's just that what?" I finally ask.

"Nothing," Derrick says, shaking his head. "I'll see you out back."

With that, he turns away, leaving the balcony behind him as he heads down the hall. My heart sinks in my chest. What isn't he saying?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I heave a sigh as I close the door behind me. I feel bad we didn't cancel our meetup for today, considering it's Derrick's birthday and all.

"Hey," he says with a smile, approaching the balcony and placing his hand on top of it. It's sort of become routine for me to walk onto his hand at the start of our meet ups, not that I've gotten any better at it.

"Hey," I answer as I approach his open palm.

The size of his hand still manages to freak me out, but at least I'm not as averse to it as I was when he first started helping me with my fear. After a bit of wobbling and struggling, I manage to position myself in the center of my deskmate's palm and sit down.

"Sorry for making you come out here on your birthday," I say with my head down as I nervously twiddle my thumbs. "I know there's other things you'd rather be doing right now."

"Aw, come on, you know that's not true!" Derrick beams at me from above. "There's nothing I'd rather be doing right now than helping out a friend."

I smile back at him, though his words don't reassure me completely.

"Now," he starts as he moves beside the balcony and gently sits down, "since you've been improving so much this week with both eye contact and with walking onto my hand, I thought we'd try something new. If you're up for it, that is."

"Something new?" I ask, my gut immediately beginning to twist. "Like what?"

"Would you be up for trying shoulder etiquette?"

"Shoulder etiquette?"

"Yeah! I'd place you on my shoulder, and you'd stand there," Derrick explains. "It's a formal form of etiquette that even the teachers use, so we can practice it during school as well."

My mind flashes back to orientation day, when I saw most of the school staff going around in pairs like that. I remember Derrick had asked me that day if I wanted to try standing on his shoulder, and I coldly turned him down. A weight fills my chest as I think about all the ways I was unkind to Derrick before we became friends.

"Okay," I say, "we can try it."

Derrick nods and lifts the hand I'm in up to his shoulder. My core tightens and my heart thrashes about within me as the distance between us gets smaller and smaller. As I find myself nearing the crook of his neck, I begin to feel heat radiating from his body like a space heater. He's so warm! My insides do a somersault, and my cheeks redden as I release a shuddering breath. I don't think I've ever been this close to anyone before, let alone a perthean!

I slowly rise from my place in Derrick's palm, carefully maneuvering past his fingers and onto his shoulder. I nearly slip once or twice as I struggle to maintain my balance, but manage to secure myself by grabbing onto the collar of the white button up he's wearing under his blazer.

"How are you doing?" He asks, removing his hand and leaving me stranded on his shoulder.

My eyes can't help but wander downward until I'm gazing helplessly at the hard concrete below us. Even though my deskmate is sitting down, I'm still so high above the ground! A fall from this height would certainly kill me! I let out a yelp and slam my eyes shut, gripping the collar of Derrick's shirt more tightly lest I slip and fall to my death!

"Hm, not good?" Derrick asks. "I suppose it takes some getting used to. Just hold onto me, you'll be fine."

"Mhm," I hum as I try to keep myself from trembling. If my legs continue to quake like this, I'll slip for sure! I have no idea how the teachers or the other students at school manage to go around like this!

"So, while you're getting adjusted..." Derrick begins, "is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

"Um..." I think for a moment. "You're turning eighteen, right?"

"Right. Just two more years and I'll be an adult."

"How has preadulthood treated you so far? Do you feel prepared for adulthood?" I ask.

Derrick hums, thinking through my question. "Well, I guess it beats being a teenager. I still can't drive, but I'd say I can cook, clean, and budget decently enough to live on my own if I wanted to. I'll probably wait until university to move out, though. What about you?"

"I've learned a lot from my dad. He's a good teacher. He taught me nearly everything I know about being a preadult. Cooking, cleaning, budgeting... although he's not very good at home repair..."

"Did your mom teach you anything?"

My heart plummets to the ground, and my guts twist and turn tightly within me.

"I... well, my mom died when I was only six. It's just my dad and me."

"Oh... I'm sorry," Derrick apologizes.

"No, it's okay. I'm over it. It was a long time ago," I sigh.

I bite the inside of my cheek, unsure of whether I'm being honest or not. It's been years since my mom passed, but I've always longed for her to be a part of my life. I wonder all the time what might have been if only she hadn't...

"You know, I guess my mom did teach me something," I say, letting my mind go to the past. "I remember when I was a little girl, I'd watch her make different pieces of artwork. I was so fascinated with how she was able to draw such fine details and pick such beautiful colors to paint with. I have a memory of her sitting down with me and teaching me how to draw different flowers. Pansies, bluebells, rotizelles... and although I'm still not very good with flowers, she did instill in me a love for art."

"I remember you said you liked to draw when we first met, and I've seen a few of the doodles in your notes," Derrick chuckles. "I have yet to see a finished piece from you, though. Especially since you're always hiding your drawings."

My face gets really hot really quickly as my mind turns back to the sketchbook I brought with me to school. "A-actually," I stutter, "there's... something I wanted to show you."

"Something you want to show me? Really?" Derrick asks, surprised. "Am I finally going to see one of your drawings?"

"I-I— well," I stammer, embarrassed, not really knowing what to say. Is what I'm about to do really a good idea?

I reach into my bookbag and feel around for my sketchbook. Pulling it out, I turn to the page with my finished sketch of the two of us laughing under a cherry tree and look it over for a moment.

'It's hideous!' I can already hear my deskmate say. 'Is that supposed to be us? What an ugly art style!'

"Kaylin?" Derrick asks after a long silence.

"I— um...! H-here, I... made this for you," I sputter. "For your birthday!"

I grip the collar of Derrick's shirt with one hand, and with the other I stretch out as far as I'm able and present my sketchbook to him.

"For... me?" Derrick asks, taking the sketchbook in between his thumb and forefinger.

Silence fills the air as my deskmate stares down the human-sized book in between his fingers. My heart pounds and pounds while my insides swarm with butterflies! What will he think? What will he say?! I almost wish I never brought this up! I'm sure he'll think it's a pathetic gift! I knew my art wasn't good enough to be shown to anyone, so why did I ever think it would be a good idea to make this dumb drawing for his birthday?

Derrick gasps. "Wow, I don't know what to say."

I try my hardest to slow down my breathing, but it's no use. My whole body shakes as I brace for the impact of whatever criticism is about to come my way. He hates it, doesn't he?

"Kaylin, you drew this? This is amazing!" my deskmate exclaims.

"I'm sorry! I knew it wouldn't be good enough!" I say, only to blink a few times in confusion. Do my ears deceive me? "Wait, what did you say?"

"This is amazing! Is this what I think it is?" Derrick asks.

"I-it's... you and me," I answer, "under that cherry tree we saw the other day."

Derrick continues looking the drawing over. "Wow," he says again.

"I-I can send you a photo of it, if you want," I suggest.

"That would be great!" he says, handing the sketchbook back to me. "After all, I'm sure you wanted to keep your book."

I put my sketchbook away and quickly open up my phone to send a picture I took of the drawing to Derrick. Once I send it, his phone buzzes almost instantly, and he unlocks it to view what I sent.

"Thank you, Kaylin," he says, gazing at the drawing once more. "Really. It's a wonderful gift."

A warmth fills my heart, soothing any remaining anxieties I had about the drawing and leaving me with a grin that stretches from ear to ear.

Time continues on in the blink of an eye, and before we know it, we've already reached our usual time of departure.

"Well," Derrick says, carefully standing up from his spot beside the balcony, "I guess we better get going."

My heart races and my eyes widen as he stands to his full height. I look beneath me at the ground below and watch as it gets farther and farther away. If the distance to the ground when he was sitting wasn't enough to kill me, this distance will surely do the job! My vision doubles as the scenery around me spins and my insides churn and convulse! I grab onto the collar of Derrick's shirt with a death grip, lest I topple down toward the unforgiving concrete below!

"Sorry," Derrick says. "I tried to be more careful, since you're on my shoulder."

"N-no, you're fine, it's just that... I feel like I..." I trail off, unsure of how to describe what's going on inside of me.

"You feel like you're going to fall?"

"Y-yeah," I murmur, trembling where I stand on my deskmate's shoulder.

"Don't worry," Derrick says, pressing a hand against my little frame and gently pinning me against the side of his neck. "I'll keep you safe."

Is this... a hug?!

I blush. Hard. My trembling increases as I'm wedged between Derrick's hand and his neck. What do I do?! I can't move! I can't escape! I begin to breathe in and out at a rapid pace, shuddering more and more with each exhalation.

After a few seconds, Derrick removes his hand, releasing me from what had to be the most frightening embrace I've ever been on the receiving end of!

"Hey, listen," he says. "About earlier... you really don't have to come over if you don't feel like you're ready. I understand that the idea of visiting a house twenty times bigger than what you're used to is likely overwhelming to you, especially if other pertheans are involved. But, in case you do want to come, I thought I'd ask anyway—would you like to come over?"

"Um, yeah! Sure," I say, Derrick's words going in one ear and out the other as I try to calm myself down.

"Wait, really?" He asks. "You'll come over?"

"Sure," I say. "I just... need a moment." I try to steady my breathing again using the techniques I learned in therapy as a kid, still not registering what it was Derrick just asked me.

"Alright, well, we should get going then," my deskmate says, walking away from our spot behind the school and heading toward the sidewalk beyond the school grounds.

I'll have every opportunity to think through what just happened when I get home.

#too small to be afraid #tstba #perthea #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #giant/tiny writing #gt writing

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nar-nia · 10 months

Note

Hi could you write about the scene in chamber of secrets (Harry Potter) where Harry saved Ginny. But the reader is Ginny who got saved by a Enhypen member ( you can decide which Enhypen member saved the reader)

yes i caaan <33 i'm so sorry it took me a while, i feel like i've gone from one writing slump to another. but i hope you like this!

secrets

warnings: mentions of unconsciousness, memory loss

word count: ~800

~~~

Jungwon couldn’t even begin to describe the relief that washed over him when he saw you sitting in that hospital bed, eyes looking around while your foot was jumping up and down on the ground. It was a big contrast to just hours earlier, when he had found your almost lifeless form on the ground of a cold chamber. The chamber of secrets, as it was called, even though Jungwon would now rather call it the chamber of horrors. And something gave him the feeling that you might think the same.

“Hey,” he mumbled, finally gathering the courage to step closer to you. “How are you feeling?”

Your head whipped around, wide eyes focusing on you. Jungwon tried to ignore the dreadful feeling in his stomach when he saw the dark circles under your eyes and how pale you still were, instead putting a smile on his face when he grabbed a chair to sit down next to you. “You gave us quite a scare.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, refusing to meet his eyes now. “I didn’t mean for all of this to happen, I swear.”

“I know.” Jungwons heart broke a bit when he saw the fear in your eyes. “No one is blaming you for it.”

“They do.” You shook your head. “I can see them staring at me when they walk past the hospital wing.”

“They don’t know what happened yet,” Jungwon tried to reason. “They will understand.”

“Do you?” You finally looked at him, lips pressed tightly together. “Understand?”

“Of course I do.” Jungwon smiled again. “I saw the power he has. I even used the diary myself.”

“You did?” Jungwon was relieved to see that you seemed to calm down a bit, your glance now curious. “I didn’t know that.”

He nodded. “I fell for it too. Anyone would have. So, I could never blame you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. The two of you sat there for a bit in silence, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Especially when Jungwon noticed how your breathing seemed to calm down a bit again and your foot stopped jumping.

“They never told me what happened in that chamber.”

“Oh.” Now it was Jungwons turn to get nervous. “What can you still remember?”

“Nothing… my memory has been messed up for a while now.”

Jungwon nodded, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to work you up more, so maybe saying nothing would be the best? But you deserved to know the truth.

“This guy used you to open the chamber of secrets,” he finally started.

“They told me that… and that you got me out of there?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We figured out how to get into the chamber and that’s where I saw you lying. It was scary.”

“I’m sorry,” your voice had started to get shaky. “I really didn’t mean for it all to happen.”

“I know. I would never blame you.” Jungwon reached for one of your hands, softly squeezing it.

“Thank you.”

“I think I should tell you the rest some other time,” he smiled. “The important thing is that we got you back and you’re okay. And that this chamber will be closed.”

“I hope so. I just want to forget about it all.”

“I get that.” He really did, mostly because he himself wanted nothing more than to forget about it too. But there was one small thing that still lingered in the back of his mind…

“This guy said some things in the chamber… about you.”

Your eyes went wide again, your face going pale.

“What did he say?”

“That you wrote your worries in that diary. And that some were about me.”

“Oh.” Your head turned red, your eyes avoiding him again. “I- What about you?”

Jungwon didn’t want to say it. He shouldn’t. But then again… there was a pretty big reason why he should tell you. He took a shaky breath, trying to gain his confidence and ignore his beating heart.

“I like you too, y/n.”

“What?” Jungwon could practically feel you freeze in front of him. “You like me?”

“I like you, y/n.”

“Oh… wow.” Your face was still incredibly red, but now there was also a smile spreading on it. “This was not what I expected.”

“I didn’t expect to be told by a creepy guy that you like me but here we are,” Jungwon chuckled. “You do like me, right?”

“I do.” You took his other hand, the smile on your face only getting broader. “I like you, Jungwon.”

“I like you too, y/n.” Jungwon felt like his heart might burst any moment, especially when he looked at you. He couldn’t stop smiling.

“You know,” you mumbled, “if this is the outcome, I don’t mind getting kidnapped into creepy chambers.”

“Uhm, no.” Jungwon laughed. “I can confess as often as you like but no more kidnapping or creepy guys.”

You joined his laugh, and Jungwon could have sworn his heart actually just exploded. “That sounds perfect.”

~~~

permanent taglist: @maeum-your @suneonu @hoonsmarsbar @soobin-chois @sjyuniverse @taekbokki

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

Text

Ride Or Die | The Party pt.1

mafia!jungkook, druglord!jungkook, angst, smut, unhealthy relationship

Word Count - 4.5k

Jungkook wants you to join him at a BTS party. Warnings: swearing, drinking, angsty emotional pain, mentions of past ab0rtion, violence & guns, drug use. cliffhanger, pls wait for part.2 if this bothers u i'm sorry :( Important note: this is fiction and i do not condone this type of behaviour / relationship

MINISERIES COLLECTION

“And you’re sure, you’re certain there’s no reason Namjoon would wanna see you after all this time?” Jungkook sniffs, the remains of class-a substances almost completely disappeared from his airways now. He’s been very curious about your past relationship with RM, but for obvious reasons you’ve kept what truly happened to yourself.

It’s been almost a week since your dearly beloved pressed the barrel of his gun to your chin and terrified you beyond belief. Much like everything else he does it’s not been mentioned since, as though it never happened at all. You’re hurting, longing for an escape from this life but truthfully you know you can’t leave him. You’ve tried. You were almost killed.

Being with Jungkook is like you’ve been transformed into a rubber band, the harder you pull away the more painful the inevitable snap back into his arms will become. And much like a rubber band you know if you keep pulling and pulling and pulling away from him, you’ll break.

You need him.

“For the millionth time… no.” You swallow, avoiding your boyfriend’s gaze while trying to live vicariously through whatever reality tv show is playing on the new television. Giving that Jungkook had to replace the last one after the two of you… broke it.

There are multiple reasons Namjoon would want to see you, with multiple possible motives. Your somewhat whirlwind romance with the ex-club owner was short lived but it was intense. An intimate affair in its own right. There was a time you never left his office, never left his lap. He’d asked you to run away with him, but the timing was off and you were left behind. Finding out that the infamous RM who simultaneously completed and broke your heart four years ago was actually BTS' old leader was less than settling. You really didn’t know the man at all, not even his real name, and so you have no idea why he would be outside the hotel room you were nearly killed in.

Why would he come for you? Because of the abortion? Why now? Was he trying to save you? Save you from… his new gang? Nothing makes sense, your head hurts, your brain feels fried and heavy inside your skull. It’s like an inescapable bad dream, especially when it’s all your present gang leader boyfriend wants to talk about. As if he's avoiding mentioning his extreme reaction completely.

“The gangs having a party tonight.” Jungkook’s tone is somewhat absent, he’s busying himself counting stacks of dirty money next to you, not bothering to glance in your direction, too focused on the task at hand, “Do you still have that long black dress? The one with the thigh split?”

“You want me to go?” You bite back a scoff. It’s no secret that you rarely attend the BTS parties, why would you? To watch your boyfriend knock back white slug after white slug of cocaine? The idea alone makes you nauseous. You hate that side of him.

“Mhm,” Kook nods once, wetting his thumb to separate some of the bills that are stuck together, “I’ll behave I promise, no drugs.” He’s chuckling to himself, but the sound does nothing but make your skin burn.

You love him. You adore him. But you hate him. A contradiction in itself, you’re fully aware of that. To love someone so bad for you is to knowingly consume poison because you like the familiar taste. That’s what being in his life is like, the constant daydreaming and longing for things to be different all while begging they remain the same. Are you in love with Jungkook? Or are you in love with the idea of who Jungkook could be if he finally changed his ways? The man physically pulled a gun on you, despite you being ‘the love of his life’. And yet, frustratingly, he's still the most genuine and sweet man you’ve ever known.

Perhaps what you hate the most is how much you love him.

“I don’t particularly want to go to a BTS party…” You admit cautiously, nervous gaze flickering to the man you’re seated next to. He’s shirtless, wearing nothing but ripped black jeans after his shower, even his feet are bare against the cream fur rug centre of the living room. “I think I’ll just stay in tonight, thanks for inviting me though.”

At this Jungkook stops what he’s doing, carefully piling the stacks of cash next to him before turning his face to you. The thing about your relationship is that you’re constantly walking on egg shells, you never know which of his personalities you’re going to be faced with. To your surprise his handsome features are kind, his hair still damp and brushed away from his face. When you lock eyes his immediately soften, crinkling with the beginnings of a breath-taking smile.

“Please?” He gives you a goofy grin, one that’s impossible not to mirror. If only he were always this genuine and non-threatening. Things could be so different if he dropped his Russian roulette lifestyle and remained true to the man you fell in love with. “I need to look my best, and that’s just not possible without you by my side.” He winks, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Nice try,” You’re giggling, playfully slapping his denim-clad-thigh, “But flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, I’m staying in tonight.”

Jungkook’s features drop into something cold and icy faster than you can register, until your giggles fade into a deathly silence. There’s something fierce flooding his eyes. Something that makes every nerve ending in your body freeze over with caution, “Staying in or running off again?”

“W-what are you talking about? No…” You whisper, fuck, he found the bag. You stifle a groan, attempting to remain visibly indifferent.

Right after he held a gun to your chin you packed a bag, adamant he’d hurt you for the final time – but you didn’t go through with it. Of course you didn’t. You rarely do, and when you actually do you always end up back in his arms.

Jungkook leans closer, until he’s draping a muscular tattooed arm over your shoulders. Glaring at you, through you, and it’s enough to make you swallow uncomfortably. “You and I are more alike than you think, looks like we’re both liars, baby.” The sound of him scoffing sends a rush of nausea through your stomach lining.

“I didn’t lie about anything—”

He messily grabs your jaw with a contradicting gentle grip, smirking when he leans in closer, until his pierced lips are a hair away from your own, “You weren’t exactly honest with me either, even if you didn’t go through with it you were planning on running off again at some point. I found the bag. Clearly I can’t trust you anymore, which is exactly why you’re coming to the party tonight whether you like it or not.”

“Jungkook…” Your exhale is shaky, your words even more so as they begin to rot in the back of your throat, “I-, I was scared and I…” You peer up at him through long eyelashes, blinking slowly, defeatedly, “I’m sorry.”

“I know baby, I know you are…” He coos, softening his hold and exchanging it for an inked finger lovingly caressing your cheek. His touch is equal parts comforting and nerve-wracking, but your body melts beneath it either way, as it always does. “Go and get ready,” His sharp chin tilts toward the doorway, “It’s a fancy party so I recommend that dress I bought you for our anniversary last year.”

“Okay…” You swallow again, glancing round the seemingly normal young couple’s apartment. There are pictures of you both throughout the years on the side table, the glass on the frames smashed right over your bright smile. The place screams young love, when in reality, you and Jungkook are far from the normal young couple. It’s poetic really, how the cracked frame conceals your happiness. Because that’s exactly how you feel.

Sometimes happy. Sometimes broken.

Wanting nothing but an easy life you do as he says, taking your time to get ready for the night ahead. The dress he bought you is stunning, a floor-length black gown with a long thigh split and plunging neckline that flaunts the swells of your fake breasts – another present from Jungkook two years ago. Your hair hangs in loose waves, diamond droplet earrings peeking through the strands and perfectly matching the diamond necklace sitting between your collarbones. Yet another gift from Jungkook.

The thing is – he treats you ‘well’. Everything you desire is yours without a moment of hesitation. From the breast implant surgery you wanted, to almost everything you wear. It’s yours, it’s all yours. He buys you everything a woman your age could possibly ever want. Beyond everything you could ever want. Puts a roof over your head, keeps you alive. And when he isn’t drugged up to the nines he’s so sweet, caring and genuinely loveable. Sometimes you think you’re overreacting, everybody has flaws. It’s just his flaws could very well kill him. And they’ve put your life in danger also.

Footsteps against the wooden flooring outside the bedroom prompt you to stand from the dresser, having just finished your makeup. A smoky eye and nude glossy lip, it’s been a long time since you’ve had an occasion to dress up for and so you’ve made the most of it – even if you’d rather stay at home.

When you open the bedroom door you’re greeted with your boyfriend looking every part of delicious. Raven hair slicked back and wet-looking, emphasising the undercut style. Plentiful silver hoop earrings that somehow manage to bring your focus to his jaw. Jawline so sharp it could do the man’s dirty work for him, killing anyone who dares to touch it. Everything he’s wearing is black. The suit, the shirt, the shoes, down to the tie. It’s been equally as long since you’ve seen him dressed up like this too, so much so it almost takes your breath away.

“You look—” You’re at a loss for words, jaw slack and eyes wide. You swallow, a genuine smile creeping onto your features, “You look so handsome…” And he does, he really, really does.

“Nothing compared to you…” His hooded eyes drag themselves from your toes to your face, hungry and swimming with lust. They flicker down to your breasts once, twice, three times before he smirks. Looking you dead in the eye. “Fucking look at you. You’re so beautiful Y/N.”

“Uh-, thanks…” Blood rushes to your cheeks, but he doesn’t stop the string of compliments there.

“I really am the luckiest guy in the world to call you mine.” His smirk transforms into a smile, a panty-dropping, earth-shattering bright smile that throws you off balance. “Gorgeous.” He hums with pride, edging close enough to steal a soft open-mouthed kiss that you reciprocate.

Soon his strong arms snake round your body until they find your ass, squeezing it softly when his tongue slips into your mouth. You’re in a daze, hypnotised by the feeling of his body so close to yours. If only things could always be this simple, just you and him, untainted by anything else. It’s when you playfully tug his bottom lip between your teeth that he chuckles, letting go of your ass cheeks with another smirk, “Later baby, I promise. We’ve gotta go.”

“Right now?” You pout, using your best whiny voice that you know drives him insane. The icy discomfort of the accusation he threw at you earlier has completely dissipated, being with him is so hot and cold and right now? You feel nothing but hot.

At this he closes his eyes, inhaling, as though he’s having the debate of the century inside that handsome head of his, he sighs, kicking his head back with a tiny groan. “Trust me I wish we had time, trust me. You-, ah… There’s no way you’re not getting your brains fucked out tonight wearing that.” He grins, shaking any intrusive thoughts from his mind before he plants a chaste kiss to your temple. Breezing past your body to get to the dresser.

“What are you looking for?” Your gaze follows him.

“This,” He holds up his favourite gun before tucking It neatly into his suit jacket, “And… This.” He slides the brass knuckle duster onto his inked fingers, flexing his hand a couple times until he’s comfortable with the way the new accessory feels. Your stomach churns, reality shooting you in the face. Back to feeling cold.

Jungkook fixes his tie in the mirror, a hand brushing back his hair to keep the style in place. Everything about him screams danger tonight, he looks like he means business. Which is less than fortunate for you considering what line of business that entails. Clearing your throat you walk over to your shared bed, grabbing your stiletto heels.

He's staring at you through the mirror, “Sit down.”

“It’s okay I’ve got it—”

But Jungkook doesn’t fold, gently pushing your shoulders until you’re perched on the edge of the mattress that’s seen thousands of your most intimate moments together. He kneels before you, gripping your ankle and planting it atop his bent knee, sliding your foot into your heel before criss-crossing the dainty straps over your smooth legs, being sure to make the knot extra tight.

“Thank you…” You whisper, grateful and albeit a little surprised by the gesture, giving him the other foot. “I could’ve done it myself though.”

"I know," The corners of his lips tug into a smile, focussed on your other shoe, "Just another excuse for me to show you how much I love you." He says, affirming his words with a small kiss to your ankle.

You giggle lightly in return, staring at him with nothing but love and adoration. It’s moments like this that you wish could last forever, when your boyfriend is selfless and kind. But the glimmer of the brass knuckle duster beneath the bedroom light is a painful reminder that he’s not always this person. Not by a long shot.

BTS’ manor house is nothing shy of extravagant. It’s tucked behind other huge mansions concealed and protected by a large black gate that even you don’t know the access code for. By the time you arrive the party looks to be in full swing, music booming from every angle of the obnoxiously gigantic building. Your stiletto heels knock uncomfortably against the stones on the driveway, prompting Jungkook to lift and carry you inside from the car, effortlessly, as though he’s always had the weight of you in his arms.

“Jungkook! Over here!” His best friend calls from the bar as soon as you step inside, nursing a flute of champagne and entertaining all of three women who’re practically clawing the grey suit off his frame. “It’s good to see you Y/N.” Jimin adds when you get a little closer, your boyfriend finally resting your feet to the ground.

“Looking as gorgeous as ever.” Jimin hums, tugging you into an awkward half-hug where he kisses your cheek, prompting Jungkook to laugh.

“Careful there. Keep your hands to yourself before I have to break them,” He jokes, though there’s a spike of malice to his tone that even you notice, “Is everybody here?”

Jimin nods, pursing his usually plump lips into an awkward line, “Whole team is here now, yeah.”

“What’s this party for?” Your gaze flickers between the two men, thanking Jungkook when he passes you your own flute of champagne. The manor house is busy, bursting at the seams with fabulously dressed men and women who look as though they own the world. Everybody here has money, not just money but money. It’s obvious, wealth oozes from the crowd of party-goers and you’re glad you listened to Jungkook’s outfit recommendation.

“You didn’t tell her?” Jimin’s frowning, nudging his blonde bangs from his eyes with one hand, feeling up one of his groupies with the other. You bite back a grimace at the sight, “This party is for you Y/N.”

“I-, what?” It’s your turn to frown, stare snapping to your boyfriend instantly. He’s nodding slowly, expertly analysing the crowd as though he’s looking for someone. “What do you mean this party is for me?”

“A welcome home party.” Jungkook sniffs, still busy searching for something hidden in the sea of people, “I missed you baby.”

Jimin’s smiling, peeling a small button-sized packet from his suit trouser pocket, filled with crushed white powder. “He was insufferable without you Y/N,” He chuckles, opening the tiny bag and dipping a key into the snow, taking a heap of it on the metal before vacuuming it up with his symmetrical nose, “You want a bump Jungkook?”

You freeze, heart hammering inside your chest. This is exactly why you don’t come to these things. For this reason. You love Jungkook, but you hate the fact he toys with his life so recklessly. He knows you hate drugs, he knows you don’t approve of the risky decisions he makes every time the dust of forced dopamine finds it’s way into his nostrils –

“Nah, not tonight.”

“Really?” Jimin’s brows are hiked so far up his forehead it’s wrinkled, taking the surprise straight out of your mouth, “You sure? It’s good shit, imported from Columbia and I haven’t crushed it with anything else. It’s pure cocaine Kook, your favourite.” The bag has found it’s way into the hands of one of Jimin’s adorers and you watch her with nothing but disgust when she takes a bump too. So out in the open, in front of everybody.

It's not that you're too proud to partake in such activities. It's more that you've witnessed first hand what this lifestyle does to people. When you used to work as a stripper the amount of girls who destroyed their lives over this stuff was more than enough to put you off ever trying it yourself. At first you didn't particularly care that Jungkook took drugs, most people in their twenties swimming in dirty money and guns do. But as you fell deeper and deeper in love with him, his after hours hobby started to bother you more and more.

It was around then that you established that you love him dearly - but sometimes you fucking hate him too.

“I said not tonight.” Jungkook’s tone is absent, as though he’s not fully paying attention to what’s happening right here in front of him. He's sipping champagne, finally zoning back into the conversation when the next words tumble from his lips, “I’m done with that shit.”

Jungkook’s looking right at you, deadly serious.

“Yeah, okay.” Jimin snorts, sounding every part of congested and you wonder how much of the substance he’s already consumed, “I’ve heard that before. When you change your mind let me know.”

“I’m not gonna change my mind Jimin.” If looks could kill, Jungkook’s best friend would be dead. You feel awkward, as though you shouldn’t be witnessing this unfold. Truthfully had you not been here you know it would be a very different outcome indeed, it always is. “I’m done. I’m done with coke, done with pills, I’m done with all of it.”

“You are..?” You whisper, heart thumping in your chest as though you’ve just taken a hit of the class-a powder yourself. Is this a façade? Is he only saying this because you’re standing right here? You want to believe him, but with his track record it’s a little difficult. A little too good to be true.

“I am.” He cracks a small smile, wetting his lips, “For good.”

“Well I’ll have Mr No Fun’s then…” One of Jimin’s admirers pipes up, seductively batting her lashes in the direction of your boyfriend. You frown upon seeing her sultry expression, clicking your tongue to the roof of your mouth with an audible pop. The audacity of some people, you're standing right here.

A puff of air rips from Jimin’s partially blocked nostrils upon seeing your reaction, but he turns to the red-headed woman with a drunken grin, “Yeah you will baby, come here…”

“I’m gonna-, where are the rest rooms?” You have to physically stop yourself for pulling the woman’s cheap hair extensions from her scalp when she takes a bump of blow, being sure to stare at Jungkook the whole time. Going as far to send a distasteful wink his way.

Jungkook’s already noticed your discomfort and internal anger, prompting him to tug you into his arms before his lips smash against yours hard enough to bruise.

He kisses you with everything he has, with everything the man is. As though he wants the world to know, wants her to know, that he’s taken. That he’s yours. A content rather smug hum lands in his mouth along with your tongue, swirling against his in a kiss so sinful you almost forget you’re in public. On muscle memory alone his free hand finds the swell of your ass and squeezes, a small chuckle rumbling his strong chest when you yelp.

Pulling back with a grin you hand him your champagne flute, determined to show this girl exactly who you are. When you face her she’s already staring, mouth agape and eyes narrowed with disgust, but you don’t care. It’s been a while since you’ve had to use the art of seduction to get what you want – giving that Kook’s almost always the one to come onto you first. But you have a plan, a brilliant, evil plan. You used to be a stripper after all, you know exactly how to show her who’s boss. Jungkook’s boss. Things with him may not be perfect by any means, but he's yours.

“Come here…” You whisper, locking eye contact with your new enemy. Motioning with your finger you’re very grateful that she obliges, until her face is impossibly close to yours. Jimin, the other girls and Jungkook all watch on with very cautious gazes. Though in your peripherals you can see your boyfriend smirking into his champagne glass, lips smeared with your lip gloss.

“What?” The red head says curtly, quirking a single brow.

And that’s when you lean in closer, until you’re a hair away from her dry looking lips, giving her the chance to pull back if she’s not into it. But she doesn’t, instead she gauges the situation perfectly and kisses you before you even have the chance to make the first move. You kiss her back, nothing too salacious just an innocent closed-lipped kiss that lasts no longer than ten seconds before you chuckle against her mouth, resting your forehead to hers.

“If I were you I’d savour that taste,” Your voice is loud enough for the other’s to hear, “Because that’s the closest to my man you’re ever going to get.” Pulling away you wink at her, palms finding Jungkook’s chest when you turn, “I’ll be right back…” You whisper, sweetly kissing his cheek.

Jungkook’s laughing in disbelief at your boldness, though when your body brushes past his you feel that your little display has definitely, definitely caused a nine inch problem in his slacks. “I’ll come with you,” His voice is hoarse, eyes trained to your curves before he swallows, “Excuse us.” He’s rushing you to walk faster, breath hot in your ear when his strong arm snakes round your middle, “Jealousy has never looked so fucking sexy.”

“I’m not jealous of her.” You tut, rolling your eyes all while trying to rid your features of a triumphant smirk, “I just don’t want her to think you’re available, because you’re not.” You remind him with a smile, a smile that has the suited-man equal parts flabbergasted and horny.

“Oh I know I’m not, I’m all yours baby. All fucking yours.” His fingers lace with yours before he tugs you in the correct direction, being careful not to knock over anybody in his way, “And you’re mine.” The weight of his words are met with a firm slap to your ass.

It’s when you’re almost by the restrooms that Jungkook is called over by a nearby waiter, holding a glass of champagne with a single red rose petal floating atop the bubbles. He stills, looking every part of irritated that he’s been summoned by the staff and his plans of a bathroom stall fuck have been delayed. But to your surprise, and to his utter shock, the tall waiter’s gaze zones in on you.

“For you miss, from a gentleman over there…” His head tilts behind him, Jungkook’s stare snapping in that direction faster than the speed of light itself. You swallow, brows pinching with uncertainty. On the tray there’s not only the drink but a small white card inked with beautiful black calligraphy that reads:

My cinnamon, I’ve missed you.

"RM wanted me to let you know that you won't get a chance like this again Y/N." The waiter's words are laced with venom, piercing blue eyes fixated on your horrified features.

This is not happening right now, RM is here, in the BTS mansion. And Jungkook doesn't have a clue about what truly happened between you and your old boss. His old boss. It's only a matter of time before you're forced to tell the truth and that genuinely terrifies you. You swallow, peering up at Jungkook who's large palm is reaching into his suit jacket, for the gun you saw him put in there.

"Jungkook don't." You try to warn him, but it's too late. He pulls the gun from his inner pocket and pushes it against the nameless waiter's stomach, eyes burning with blind rage.

"You've got five seconds to tell me what he wants before I shoot." His voice is serious, any flirtation long forgotten about. With a firm hold of your hand and the other pressing presumably a loaded gun to the other man's stomach, you freeze.

"Isn't it obvious?" The water laughs, in the blink of an eye pulling his own silver gun and shoving it to your ribcage hard enough to make you hiss in pain. "He wants his girl back."

Jungkook's jaw tightens upon seeing the man click the safety off his gun, eyes blown out with wrath and disgust, maybe even a flicker of fear. The kind of look that makes every hair on your body stand to attention, simultaneously wanting to escape him now he knows the truth, and be saved by him all at once.

There's a deafeningly loud gunshot that follows, but you feel no pain. For it wasn't you who'd been shot, rather the waiter who's dropping to the floor with a pained shriek. You swallow when the crowd begins to scream, chaos ensuing at the aftermath of your boyfriend's quick thinking.

That's when he turns to face you, his expression nothing short of panicked when his fingers untangle from yours,

"Run."

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