#you see what I'm saying right? not that I have the answers; but this fines as fees is a failure of policy

[hairmetal666]

It's 3am. It's pouring down rain. Steve's soaked to the skin, been wandering the city for most of the night, hasn't slept in almost 24 hours, thinks maybe he's on the brink of delirium, and then a truck hits a pool of ponded water, sending a muddy wave cascading over him.

He just wants to go home but Dustin lost his dog and he can't leave a puppy out in this weather.

Steve steps off the curb, and what looks like a shallow puddle turns out to be a water-filled hole. He crashes towards the pavement, nothing he can do to stop it. As fast he's falling, he's miraculously not, arms wrapped around his waist. It takes a second for his brain to catch up, to understand that he's being held upright in an old-fashioned, romantic dip.

"Careful, sweetheart," a deep and smoke raspy voice says from above him.

it sends chills down his spine, the good kind, and warmth slips through him. His rescuer is a solid 10 knockout. Long, curly hair; eyeliner; decked out in leather and studs and chains. He smells like booze and cigarettes and weed, and it's intoxicating. Steve has to fight the instinct to nuzzle the guy's leather jacket. He's beautiful, holds Steve with the swagger only a guy with rings on every finger could pull off.

And Steve is a mud soaked mess in sweatpants and a threadbare Hawkins High tee. But the guy holding him isn't letting go. He stares down at Steve, brown eyes wide.

"Steve!" A voice calls over the patter of the rain.

"Dustin?" He says at the same time that the man holding him says, "Henderson?"

"Eddie?" Dustin asks.

"Wait, dnd Eddie?" Steve gets his feet under him, but Eddie's arms don't drop.

"You're the famous babysitter Steve I've been hearing all about?"

They gape at each other until Dustin reaches them.

"What are you still doing out here?" Dustin shouts. "We found Dart hours ago."

"Dustin!" He thinks he might cry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You weren't answering your walkie!"

"Fuck." Steve drops his face to his hand. The walkie. Which is on the table by the front door where he and Robin leave their keys.

Steve swallows his frustration, the misery of waterlogged shoes, having to be up to open the store in a few hours, meeting the hottest guy he's ever seen when he looks like a drowned rat.

"I promised I'd find Dart, didn't I? Now what the hell are you doing out so late?"

"Mom and I were looking for you!"

"Let's get you back to the car, man, okay?" Steve says to Dustin. He wants to end this weird, terrible, embarrassing night before it gets even more humiliating.

"I can give you a ride home," Eddie says. He's got this weird, intense look on his face, staring at Steve.

"I'm only a few blocks away. I'll be fine. C'mon, Henderson."

"Oh, I can walk him. You head home."

He nods, starts towards his apartment, but turns back just in time to see Eddie and Dustin share a look he can't parse.

---

A few days later, Dustin's following him around at work, chattering about dnd as Steve shelves books, and without taking a breath during a soliloquy about owl bears, says, "Eddie's running a one-shot for us next week. You should come! It's a great way to get into the game."

"I'm not playing dnd," Steve answers. He slides a book onto the shelf. "I've told you this."

"Yeah, but you liked Eddie, right? He'd help you out!"

Steve squints at the kid. "I didn't really meet Eddie to know. Anyway, I'm sure he doesn't want a newbie crashing."

Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn't like him, based on their short introduction, so he's not interested in forcing himself into the guy's dnd club. The night they met was humiliating enough, Steve in all his dorky glory.

"No, he totally wouldn't care. C'mon, Steve!"

"No can do." He ruffles Dustin's hair as he walks away.

He thinks that'll be the end of it, but every few days, for weeks Dustin and all the rest of the kids stop at the store to beg him to join their dnd club.

---

Steve is working the register and he hears the shuffling clank of a customer, looks up and finds Eddie. He's staring at Steve with that same look from the night they met, intense and piercing, cutting straight through the heart of him. He feels himself start to blush.

The first thing out of Eddie's mouth is, "Wait, this is your store?"

"Yeah?" Steve asks. "Is that--is that weird?"

"No! Not at all. It's a good store. Cute." His nose wrinkles when he says it and Steve's blush grows hotter. He knew Eddie thought he was a dork.

"Cute. Yeah. Right. Can I help you with something?"

Eddie rocks back on his heels, hands going to the pockets of his leather jacket, sending his chains jingling. "Oh, so, actually I wanted to see if you were busy?"

"Yeah, man. I'm busy." He laughs, doesn't intend to be mean about it, but he and Robin only opened the store six months ago and both take night classes at the local community college. Plus, everything he does with the kids.

Eddie's face flushes bright. "Oh, sure, of course. Yeah, I--I'll see you around."

The door thunks to a close behind him, and a voice immediately pops up to ask, "What the hell was that?"

He turns to find Max Mayfield hands on hips, glaring up at him, Robin close behind.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

Max rolls her eyes and strides up to the counter. "Why were you an asshole to Eddie?"

"He started it!"

"I highly doubt that."

"Okay, Ms. Know-it-all, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I know for a fact that Eddie came in today to ask you out. So, tell me, Steve Harrington, why he rushed out of here looking like a kicked puppy?"

"What?" He yelps. "Eddie doesn't even like me!"

She glares. "Doesn't like you? He's been pathetic about you since you met."

He gapes at Robin. "Don't look at me," she shrugs. "But that guy was definitely here to ask you out."

"Fix it." Max commands as she stomps out the door. "He bar tends at that metal place on 68th."

---

It's just after 9pm and he's at the metal bar on 68th, decidedly out of place in the yellow t-shirt and jeans he wore to his business accounting class.

It's fairly busy for a weeknight, but Eddie's not hard to find. He's obviously in his element, bobbing his head to a song Steve's never heard as he mixes a drink.

With a hard swallow and a healthy dose of humility, he walks up to the bar.

"Be right--" Eddie starts, balking when he notices Steve.

"Can we talk?" he shouts over the music.

Eddie's eyes widen a little, but he nods, slips out from behind the bar to guide him to an employee exit.

"What's up, Steve?" Eddie asks. His hands are in his pockets, shoulders bowed in.

"I wanted to apologize."

"What for?"

"Earlier, I--when you said the store was cute I thought you were making fun of me."

"But--why?"

"I thought you didn't like me." Steve cringes at the admission.

"What?" He laughs.

"I don't know. We met in the middle of the night and I was covered in mud looking for a dog that wasn't lost anymore."

"Steve. Holy shit." Eddie shakes his head. "You looked gorgeous that night. The way your clothes were sticking--you know what? Never mind. Did you think I wanted you to come to dnd because I hated you?"

"You wanted me to come?"

"Dustin didn't..."

"No! And he's been asking me to play dnd weekly for the past five years."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie slumps agains the brick wall at his back. "No wonder you turned me down today."

"To be fair," Steve slumps next to him. "If I had realized you were asking me out, I wouldn't have turned you down."

"No?" Eddie asks. His brown eyes gleam.

"Definitely not. I've had a crush on you since that night. Sort of devastating since I thought you didn't like me." Steve runs his hand through his hair, watches Eddie track the movement.

"The store is cute, Steve. I--uh--I've been a few times. Back before I knew you were the owner! I just kept seeing a hot employee with great hair and a perfect ass, and the vaguely mean lesbian barista gives me free drinks."

"That's Robin," Steve says. He's smiling so hard.

"I know that now," Eddie smiles back. "Sorry for being an idiot."

"Me too." Steve nods. "Do you--could I still come to dnd? Or take you out sometime?"

"Why not both?" Dimples pop on Eddie's cheeks, and Steve's heart flips.

"I like both." They're still against the wall, but drifting into each other's space.

"So Dustin said."

It surprises a laugh out of Steve. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Too bad. He's a nice kid."

"Eh, we've got six more to choose from."

"I have a few more hours here, but there's a diner down the street that does some of the most mediocre pancakes I've ever tasted. Meet me there? Around 2?"

"A thousand lost puppies wouldn't make me miss it."

The next time Steve is out at 3am he's pressed against a building, Eddie kissing him so thoroughly he knows he's never recovering from this one.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #meet ugly #misunderstandings #feelings confession #mutual pining #idiots to lovers #hero eddie munson #damsel in distress steve harrington #steve thinks eddie is disgusted by him #meanwhile eddie is down bad crying at dnd #the kids try to do matchmaking and only max is successful #bookstore owners steve and robin #bartender eddie munson

[satoruxx]

you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."

#COPING BY WRITING MY OWN CANON LETS GOOOO #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk #jjk x you #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk drabbles #gojo drabbles #gojo #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you

[moonstruckme]

babe you’ve got me obsessed with doctor remus!

can i request a drabble where reader gets into like a car accident and has been taken into a&e with like mid/severe injuries and remus has been assigned to treat her?

if not then that’s fine! love your work bae 🎀

Hi gorgeous! Thank you for requesting (I'm obsessed with him too) :)

cw: hospital

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 716 words

The nurse leaves, and you think you might finally get more than five seconds to yourself but then the curtain pulls back again, a tall doctor taking her place. You’ve been able to feel your heartbeat pulsing through every inch of you since you’d stumbled out of your smoking car, and this new man doesn’t help matters. 

He’s lovely. With a face smattered with warm freckles and silvery scars and a mop of brown hair that looks like it’s never once been brushed, this is the kind of person who would fluster you on a normal day. Now, you don’t even know the word to describe the effect he has on you. 

He has to ask his question a second time before you hear it. 

“Have you had allergic reactions to any medications?” 

You blink. It still feels like reality is moving at twice its usual speed. You don’t know if it’s just you shaking, but it feels like the whole room. “Uh, no. Sorry.” 

“That’s alright.” The doctor’s voice is businesslike but kind, with a Welsh lilt. He flips a page on his clipboard. “Anything we weren’t able to address in the ambulance? Any new aches and pains?” 

“I—I don’t think so.” 

He lowers the clipboard slightly, looking at you. His eyes are a lightish brown color, like honey left too long in the sun. “Has anyone talked you through grounding exercises?” 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “What?” 

He almost smiles. “I’ll take that for a no.” He sets down his clipboard on the edge of your bed, pulling up a rolling chair and sitting down in front of you. “I’m going to have you breathe with me for a minute, alright, sweetheart?” 

It’s not in your nature to contradict professionals, but you feel your head shaking as if from somewhere outside of yourself. “Why?” you ask. “Aren’t there more important things?” 

“There are still things left to do,” he allows, seeming unaffected by your questioning, “but you’re stable. It’s nothing that can’t wait for a few minutes, and it’s important that you’re calm so you can think properly.” He takes your hands in his, ignoring the odd padding of the splint around your broken wrist and holding your fingertips instead. “All I need from you is for you to copy my breathing. Can you do that for me?” 

You nod. As he starts to talk you through it, your eyes begin to sting, an effect of his gentle tone or the respite your body has been craving or both. Your doctor’s expression doesn’t change when he sees the silver lining your eyes, but he gives your fingertips a light squeeze. 

“Okay, in for eight this time,” he says in that lulling voice. “Good job, just keep at it.” 

You manage to breathe in for long enough to satisfy him, and after the exhale he drops your hands. 

“Well done,” he murmurs, mindful of the small cuts on your face as he thumbs away your tears. “Are you feeling a bit better?” 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. The word comes out like a sigh, and his lip curves softly at the plain relief in the sound. 

“Happy to hear it. You were right earlier, there’s still plenty left to do,” he says, expression sombering somewhat as he looks at you intently, “but if you ever need a break, you tell me or someone else, okay? I don’t want you suffering in silence.” 

“Okay.” You wet your lips, feeling much more solid than you had a few minutes before. The world has slowed to its regular speed. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” 

He smiles, which is altogether too charming for a place like this. It makes the long scar going across his cheek crinkle slightly and you could swear his eyes lighten a shade. “Well, see, that’s how I know you weren’t really with me when you came in, because we’ve already been introduced.” His expression lets you know he hasn’t taken any offense, but your face still heats at your impoliteness. “It’s Doctor Lupin, but you can call me Remus.” 

Something in you rings at this new knowledge, like a tuning fork has been struck. Remus, your consciousness echoes quietly. 

His smile softens. “We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other today.”

#doctor!remus lupin #doctor!remus x reader #remus lupin au #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin hurt/comfort #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders au #marauders x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: told myself to slow down, didn’t.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You finish your cocktail before you go into the concert hall. Roxie grabs a third and you pass, not wanting to run back and forth to the bathroom. Besides, you don’t really like the way the vodka stirs in your stomach and little behind your eyes.

The band is decent. You don’t know any of the songs and only vaguely heard of the artist they are a tribute to. Still, you enjoy the live show; you focus on their instruments and how they use them. You always wanted to be musical but never had a sense of tone or melody.

By the end of the set, you’re yawning. Your sister is on her fourth drink and you can’t tell if she’s swaying to the music or if it’s more than that. As the rows empty, you shuffle out with the rest of the concert goers. The bright lights of the casino greet your squint and your ears pulse slightly from the noise of the strumming and crashing show.

“Mm, so, what’d’ya say?” Your sister makes almost every word into one, “how do we spend this?”

She fishes out the chip and you give a sheepish frown. You almost forgot about it. You still think you should turn it in. You don’t feel right spending someone else’s money. You do that often enough, much too old to be living off your mom.

“Don’t be boring,” she warns, “jeez. It’s just cards. Odds are, whoever dropped it, would’ve lost it to the house anyway.”

She claps her hand around your shoulder. You pull back the sleeve of your cardigan to check the time. It’s after ten! You haven’t been out that late since... ever.

“I’m not boring,” you cross your arms and shrug her off. “I just... am different than you.”

“Boring,” she repeats. “You can’t spend all day in your room.”

Yes, you can. And you do.

You don’t argue. When she’s like this, it’s only bound to become a scene. There are too many strangers around for that.

“Black jack,” she declares and spins the coin. It slips from her grasp and falls between her feet. She bends over shamelessly in her dress to pluck it up. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

She struts ahead and you shuffle after her, nervously wringing the strap of your purse. Hopefully she loses it quickly and you can just retreat home in defeat. You catch up to her as she reaches the stairs. She giggles as she leans on the railing and you take her other arm, trying to support her wobbly steps.

“Want another drink?” She asks.

“No, think we’re good.”

“We?” She scoffs, “I’m fine.”

“Please, Rox, let’s just find a table,” you peek around as her voice rises a bit louder than you like.

“Pfft, fine, but if I win, I'm getting a drink.”

You nod. Go along to get along. That’s what your mother always told you when it came to your sister. She’s more like your father than she cares to admit.

You get to a table and she sits easily on the high seat of the tall stool. She lays down the single chip and the dealer offers to break it into smaller ones. She nods and shrugs. You envy how smoothly she just breezes through things.

You stand behind her. You don’t want to take up a seat and the stool is too much of a climb for you. You can see it wobbling as you attempt to hitch yourself up with the crossbar. You’re good, you shouldn’t get comfortable.

You listen to the shuffle of cards as your sister murmurs something you can’t make out. You can only hear the low drone of voices as you stand back. You sidle out of the way as a man claims the empty stool beside your sister. He buys in and another hand is dealt. Hasn’t she lost yet?

The man leans into your sister and you grimace. She turns her head to listen to him and she giggles. Your cheeks blaze hotly and you cross your arms and rock. Neither seem to notice you as they get closer and closer.

As the game progresses, you can only really make out what the dealer says; the different numbers that have grumbles coming from other players. You bring your hand up to pick at the button on your cardigan. The man puts his arm around your sister’s back, his hand on her hip as wiggles in her seat coyly. What about Tom?

You peer around awkwardly. Do you stop her? Remind her of the boyfriend that got her the tickets for tonight? You bounce in your flats and pause as you find someone else staring back at you. Or are they? Just as quickly as your eyes meet, the stranger’s eyes flit away and he’s back to chatting with another man. It’s the very same man who gave you the chip. Maybe her forgot you. That’s not a surprise.

You return your attention to your sister. The man has moved his arm between them and your sister squirms. You watch his elbow as he pulls his hand back. He’s touching her leg. She’s wiggling and suddenly, she shoves him away and screeches.

“EH! I got a boyfriend, perv! I said stop.”

Her voice carries along the high ceilings and you cringe. You back up, cowering away as she stands and the stool teeters dangerously. She fists her hand and you think for a moment she might just hit the guy. He scoffs and turns in his seat.

“Babe, just wanted to buy you a drink.”

“Whatever. You fucking creep!” She hollers.

“Ma’am,” the dealer calls from the table, “is there a problem?”

“Y-yeah,” she hiccups, “this dude had his hand up my skirt.”

“She’s drunk,” the man shakes his head, “listen to her.”

“I’m--” your sister’s denial catches in her throat, “doesn’t mean he can just touch me.”

“Ma’am, if you’re drunk, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’m fine. I'm not that...” She slides off the stool and stands, grabbing the chips in front of her seat and tossing them across the table. “You’re all a bunch of crooks.”

Her ankles tangle as she spins and she barely gets her balance before she storms away. Her strides are uneven as she bobbles drunkenly. You watch after her with wide eyes before you follow. She leads you into the bathrooms as she growls and grumbles. She slams into a stall and you stand outside.

You wait until she comes out. She’s quieter and her eyes are hazy. She washes her hands and applies a new coat of lip gloss.

“What a bust,” she pouts and rolls her eyes, “one more drink and we’ll go.”

“Maybe we should just leave now.”

“That guy was such a pervert,” she sneers at you, “you saw where his hand was.”

You nod, “yeah, I did...”

“So, you know I wasn’t being dramatic.”

“Yeah, but... everyone heard.”

“Oh fuck off,” she pushes your shoulder and stomps past you.

You feel bad. It’s not that she shouldn’t defend herself. You admire that she can, but she didn’t need to be so obnoxious. You trail after her into the casino. She heads directly for the bar. You hang your head and wait behind her. This time, she doesn’t offer you a drink. She’s mad at you now so it’s the silent treatment.

“Honey,” another man approaches, “how about I get that for you?”

“Huh?” She babbles, “oh, sure, baby, that’s sweet.”

The man offers his card to the bartender and orders a highball. He leans his arm on the tall bar top as he faces your sister. She bats her lashes at him and giggles as she pulls her drink closer.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” He asks.

You blink. It’s like you’re not even there. You watch awkwardly, wishing the floor would swallow you up. Instead, you find an empty stool one seat away.

“Roxie,” she answers as you struggle up onto the seat. “And you, handsome?”

“Sam,” he returns, “what’re you drinking then?”

You notice him touch her glass along the brim but can’t see much else around your sister. She replies and his own drink is served. You shrink down and sigh. She’ll get her free drink and then you can just leave. You hope. You hold your chin as you dread another scene.

“Can I get ya something?” The bartender approaches.

“Er, water, please,” you choke out. He seems disappointed but gets you a glass.

You try not to overhear your sister and that man. It’s awkward and you hate this. It’s not the first time she’s done it either. The few times she’s brought you along, you’ve somehow become a third wheel. It reminds you of when you were kids and your mom forced her to take you with her somewhere. She doesn’t actually want you around, she’s genetically obligated.

“Woah, baby, you okay?” The man raises his voice and your sister’s body slumps. Shoot. No.

You barely get off the stool as the man clings to her drooping body. She giggles wildly as you tweak your ankle and rush over. That man, Sam he called himself, seems somewhat calm given the situation.

“Slow down, babe,” he chortles, “Jesus.”

She’s drunk. You knew she shouldn’t have had another drink. Your eyes meet Sam’s and he squints.

“You know her?”

“My sister,” you murmur.

“Oh, right, well...” he clears his throat and looks around, “you can take care of her then.”

“Wait--” you barely keep her up as she leans on you as she’s almost sideways on the stool.

He’s just leaving you? What the heck? You guess if he can’t get anything out of her, she isn’t worth the effort.

You sniff and struggle to slide your sister down to her feet. She’s heavier than you expect and her height makes her difficult to balance. You glance over as the bartender nears.

“Everything okay?” He asks sternly.

“We’re leaving,” you assure him, “sorry.”

“Five minutes,” he taps his watch face, “or I call security.”

You nod and move your arm around your sister’s back, “please, Rox, gotta work with me.”

She laughs again, “hey, where’d that cute guy go?”

“Please,” you beg again, “don’t...”

“Oh, hi,” she touches your faces and squeezes your cheeks, “baby sister.”

You hate when she’s like this. She’s always been a drinker, ever since high school when her friends would sneak out bottle from their parents’ stash. What was once an act of rebellion as a teen is now concerning as an adult.

“Excuse me, everything okay?” The timbre makes your heart drop and you nearly let go of Roxie as she leans in the other direction.

You look up. Oh god. It’s him. That dark-haired man in his expensive suit.

“I’m just... we’re on our way out--”

“She alright?” He points at your sister.

“Tipsy,” you utter.

“I see,” he pushes his hair back as it slips forward, “can I help?”

“Uh, you don’t--”

Before you can answer, he has your sister’s other arm. He almost lifts her entire weight off of you as he supports her against his shoulder. Your entire body is emblazoned in humiliation. You refuse to look above the floor as you’re certain you must have an audience.

You get your sister across the floor and into a hallway. There's an exit sign ahead but you're all turned around. The man stops you and Roxie.

"Where'd you park?" He asks, "this leads to Lot 5."

"Oh, uh..." you blanch. You hadn't thought of any of that. You slouch under Roxie's weight and try to see around her. "I'm not sure but... I don't drive. She was supposed to."

"Ah," he clucks, "and now she can't."

"Right," you agree glumly, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Why?" He asks.

"I didn't think... I let her--"

"Did you let her drink or did she make that choice knowing she was supposed to get behind a wheel?" He challenges.

"I guess... yeah. Sorry."

"Really, doll, no need to keep going on like that," he dismisses, "well, it's late and I can't in good conscience let you wander out with her like this. Especially if you don't have a way home."

"I could..." you begin. A taxi? You'd have to ask your mom to pay the driver when you get home. "Why would you... care?"

"Well, as the owner of this establishment, it won't look good on me if two pretty girls left and went missing," he chuckles then stops himself, "sorry, that's not funny. I just... we overserved your sister obviously so it's on us."

"Owner?" You gulp. You didn't think this could be any more humiliating.

"Bucky," he reaches around you sister.

You hesitate. You can't shake his hand properly as yours is around your sister so you just sorta grab his hand briefly and squeeze two fingers, retracting with another raze of embarrasment. You barely squeak out your name.

He repeats your name before he continues, "I'll get you two a room so she can sober up."

"What? No. That's... too much."

"It's late," he insists, "here," he pulls Roxie away from you as her head lolls and she snorts. He lifts her against his chest, carrying her easily. "I know a back way, just follow my lead, doll."

"Ummmmm," you drone and he waltzes back the way he came, hardly detered by the drunken body in his arms. You can only kick yourself and scramble after him. This night could not have ended any worse. Well, you guess it could if it went the way he suggested.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #all in #au #casino au #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

[minkyungseokie]

第三章 | First Day of Work

warnings; age gap love(R: 23, S:39, T: 50), untranslated Korean, untranslated Chinese

note; chapter three!! I might be falling out of love with the sport ngl. After this, I might take a long break

note2; please feel free to request moodboards, blurbs, smaus, or anything else you want for this series. Or just request anything as long as you read my rules and how to request thing

fc; imleslie(Y/n), xavier serrano(Aaron Antognelli), blanca soler(Chiara Lorenzi)

Come Talk to Me

Driven by Destiny Masterlist | Previous | Next

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Toto Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

DO NOT ask me to update this story. I'll update this when I can.

An arm reached out from under the mound of blankets and practically slapped the phone off the table as the alarm pierced through the quiet and comfortable atmosphere, "Ugh.." Y/n groaned, retracting her arm and cuddling into her pillow. Just as she was about to fall back to sleep, the familiar sound of her ringtone rang through the air, "God fucking dammit." Y/n cursed, throwing the blanket off of her body and grabbing her phone.

Y/n put the phone on speaker and threw her legs over the side of the bed, "What?" She barked, "Woah, why so hostile? You told me to call you to ensure you woke up." The voice of Y/n's sister, Jisue, or Rachel, said. Y/n sighed and picked up her phone, unplugging it from the wall before walking to the bathroom, "Yeah, I remember. Sorry, I just...didn't sleep very well last night." Y/n groaned, running a hand through her hair as she searched through her drawers for an outfit.

"It's fine. You forget that I'm your older sister. It isn't my first time dealing with you when you're like this. Do you know what you're going to wear?" Rachel questioned, "Nah, I'm completely clueless, mate. You wanna hop on FaceTime and help me pick an outfit?' Y/n asked, grabbing her phone and waiting for her sister to answer.

"Duh. You know I would love to help you out. Say, I'm at Mum and Dad's right now, so I can get Olivia to help as well if you want." Rachel suggested. Y/n gasped, "Yes! Yes, go get her!" Y/n encouraged. She loved all of her siblings the same amount and Y/n refused to treat one better than the other two, but Olivia was the baby of the family, everyone had a soft spot for the girl.

She was an absolute sweetheart, as all of the Lee siblings were. "Okay, hold on. She'd love to help since you're probably her favourite sibling." Rachel joked, Y/n scoffed playfully and rolled her eyes, "Oli doesn't have a favourite sibling. If she did, it'd be Felix."

Rachel quickly got up and went to go get Olivia while Y/n pulled out some options to wear otherwise they would be there all day going through her clothes.

Thudding was heard on the other end of the phone and the thump of someone landing on the soft bed the phone must've been on. "Y/N!!" Olivia greeted cheerfully, "Oliva!" Y/n copied her enthusiasm. "Olivia, be careful with my phone." Rachel hissed, plopping down on the bed next to her youngest sister, "Oh shush, Rachel. I was being careful. Anyway, I'm going to FaceTime you now." Olivia directed her attention to Y/n.

The older Australian waited until the screen for the call popped up and immediately hit answer, "G'day, my lovely sisters." Y/n greeted again, waving with both hands. Olivia was lying on the bed with her feet up in the air, swinging back and forth while Rachel sat behind her.

"Hello! Show us what you have already." Olivia said, getting into a better position, "Move over, Olivia." Rachel ordered, getting on the bed and pushing the youngest Lee sibling over gently. "Okay, keep in mind that I want to make a good impression on my boss." Y/n reminded, putting the shirts over her arm so she could get ready to show them off.

Y/n looked at her phone to see both of her sisters giving her looks of suspicion, "What?" Y/n asked, "Since when did you care about giving off good impressions?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at the younger woman, "Yeah, you usually don't care unless..." Olivia let out a loud gasp, "You're...are..Y/n! Do you want to attract your boss?! Is he or she attractive?! What's their name? I'm going to look them up."

"Woah, woah, woah, Olivia. Calm Down. What are you getting at?" Rachel asked, putting a hand on their sister's shoulder, who was vibrating in place as she grabbed Rachel's laptop. "You weren't around when this happened, but every time Y/n put more effort into her appearance, she found the boss super attractive," Olivia explained.

"Is this true, Y/n? Do you find your boss attractive?" Rachel questioned with a teasing smile growing on her face, Y/n looked to the side as her cheeks gained a hue, "Maybe, but it doesn't matter. She's married and way out of my league. Anyway. here are my shirt options." Y/n brushed off the topic and showed off each of the shirts.

"Hmm, personally I like option number three the most. I think go with the black button down. You look amazing in black." Olivia said, "I agree, black is a part of your aesthetic." Rachel agreed.

Y/n took off her pyjama shirt and threw it onto the bed just as she got another call, "Who's calling you?" Olivia asked, "Yongbok. I'm going to add him to the FaceTime call." Y/n said, picking up her phone again and sending a text to her younger brother.

After the text was sent, it didn't take too long for Felix to join the call just as Y/n was propping the phone up, "Hello. Why are you shirtless?" Felix asked as his face popped up on the screen.

A face popped up over Felix's shoulder and stared at Y/n with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, "I was getting dressed for my first day at work. Hey, Hannie." Y/n greeted, waving at the wide-eyed quokka.

The chubby-faced boy waved back, "안녕하세요, 누나." Jisung greeted, "지성아, 말해봐요. 이 셔츠 마음에 들어요? 아니면 다른 걸로 갈까요?" Y/n asked, holding up the black button-down. "Black..is good. I like black." Jisung answered, giving the girl a thumbs up.

Y/n unbuttoned the shirt and threw it on, "너도 도와줄 거야, 하니?" Y/n questioned, seeing the younger man was still there, "네, 괜찮으시다면." Jisung answered.

"Next up are the pants. Show us what you got." Felix said, "Yeah, I'm ready to see what you have for pants." Olivia spoke, "Knowing her they are all going to be high-waisted pants that are either in black or that weird tan-beige colour." Rachel joked.

Rachel looked at Y/n, who was now standing frozen with a guilty look on her face, "Y/n, you do have jeans in more than one style and two colours, right?" Rachel asked. Y/n pursed her lips and picked up two pairs of shoes, "So what shoes should I go for?" She asked, changing the subject

"I like the platform Doc Martins." Felix said, "I like the boots." Rachel said, pointing to the Doc Martin boots that Y/n held in her other hand/ "I like the platforms." Olivia said, "I like..boots as well." Han spoke.

"So we have two for the boots and two for the platforms. Hey, Olivia, go get mum and ask for her opinion." Y/n ordered. Olivia rolled her eyes but went to go get their mother as requested, "Mum!" Olivia called out as she jogged to wherever their mother was located in the house.

"So how are things in Monaco?" Felix asked, "Oh, Monaco is amazing so far. I've only been to a few places which were the market, my new home, a cafe to meet my new boss, and that's about it." Y/n shrugged.

"Speaking of her new boss. Y/n might have a little crush on her married boss." Rachel told Felix, "Rachel! Lixie, don't listen to her. I don't have a crush on Mrs. Wolff. I do think she's gorgeous, but nothing would ever come of it if I did want to be more than friends, or more than boss and PA, with her." Y/n rolled her eyes.

"I don't think it means anything. You know how Y/n is. She finds people attractive, but she's too scared...sorry, shy, to do anything about her attraction." Felix said.

"Hey!"

"I'm back with Mum!" Olivia announced, running into the room and diving onto the bed. Sure enough, after a couple of seconds, the Lee sibling's mother enters the room and sits down, "Hello, Mum!" Y/n greeted the beautiful woman.

"Hello, sweetheart. I just want to let you know that I'm proud of you for finding such a good job." Mrs. Lee said sweetly, wishing she could hug her child and run her hands through her hair.

"Thank you, mam. I'll be right back." Y/n said, grabbing her clothes before stepping out of the frame. Mrs. Lee got up and exited the room since she was no longer needed, "Do you guys really think Y/n isn't interested in the boss lady?" Olivia asked in a low voice.

"I am not sure, honestly." Rachel admitted, "Y/n 누나는 쉽게 사랑에 빠지는 타입이 아닙니다." Han spoke up, "You're right. She really isn't the type to fall in love easily and she definitely isn't someone who is into homewrecking." Felix agreed.

Rachel opened her mouth to say something, but the sound of rustling clothes getting closer made her snap her jaw shut as quickly as she opened it.

"Okay, how do I look?" Y/n asked, giving the group a 360 view of her outfit. "You look amazing as always." Rachel complimented, "As pretty as always." Felix added, "Unbutton a few of those buttons. You look like a fuc- ahem a nerd." Olivia said.

"N/n, I'm being so serious about this when I ask and I don't want you to think I'm accusing you of anything, but..." Felix trailed off, unsure as to how to phrase the question.

"You usually wear more masculine or androgynous clothing, but all of a sudden you're being really feminine," Olivia spoke up. 

Y/n nearly reeled back in shock. She wasn't doing much of anything other than getting dressed and ready for her first day at work, which she had to get to in an hour. "I'm not sure if I follow what you're trying to say." Y/n narrowed her eyes.

"I'm just saying that maybe you're much more attracted to that woman who hired you than you thought and maybe you're unconsciously changing things about yourself to appeal to her." Rachel shrugged.

Y/n stared at her family with wide eyes. She didn't know why they were accusing her of being into her boss, but it made her want to rip her cochlear out of her head, but it wasn't that serious.

Y/n didn't understand why they would think that. Y/n hated things like that.

Love at first sight.

To her, it wasn't real and never existed. How are you going to fall in love with someone based on nothing but their looks? It's shallow and it's also how people end up in bad relationships since someone could be the most handsome man or woman you had ever met and simultaneously be the shittiest person alive.

To Y/n, being accused of being so attracted to Susie without her properly knowing the woman made Y/n feel like they saw her as shallow and superficial.

To Y/n, being accused of trying to dress to attract a woman with a family meant calling her a homewrecker.

Y/n didn't associate with people like that or live by the love at first sight thing because beauty will fade, but one's character will not.

"You guys know damn well that I'm not like that." Y/n hissed, "Y/n, we don't mean it like that--" Rachel started.

"No, you do mean it like that. I dress for myself and my success, not to attract an already-married woman. What kind of person do you think I am? I told you that she's married. I told you that she has a family." Y/n interrupted.

"Y/nnie..." Han called out, "I'm sorry, but I don't want to talk to any of you right now." Y/n huffed, pressing the 'end call' button. 

The Chinese Australian dusted the imaginary dust off of her outfit and finished getting ready. She grabbed her glasses and put them on before putting her hair in a half up half down style.

Y/n grabbed a belt and wrapped it around her waist, making sure she didn't miss any of the belt loops before grabbing her backpack and the keys to the BMW Series 3 she had rented.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Y/n sat in the car with her hands on the wheel and her eyes closed, she felt bad for assuming what her sisters had meant by what they had said. She also felt really bad for getting so upset with them and she didn't even know why she was so upset by it.

Yes, she was willing to admit that Susie Wolff was an absolutely gorgeous woman, but to say that she was changing herself in order to attract the older woman was blasphemous to her.

Y/n input the address into her phone and followed the directions to a makeshift office that Susie used while In Monaco. The Headquarters was in London and Susie had a son to raise, so she couldn't be in London all the time like she wanted to be.

"Wait, does this mean I'm going to have to travel all over the world? I know that I have an expensive apartment and rent this expensive car, but I'm not rich. This job better pay me enough." Y/n muttered.

Y/n stopped in front of the makeshift office and exited the car with her bag in hand, shoving her keys into the bag as she walked up to the front door. As she stared at the building, her stomach did flips, she hated starting a new job.

Starting a new place of work always made her feel like her stomach was flipping so hard that it'd fall out of her ass. Taking a deep breath and gripping the straps of her bag, Y/n muttered encouragements to herself, "来吧, Y/n。别这么娘娘腔 男人......呃......女人，快滚进大楼" 

After cursing at herself in Chinese, Y/n finally opened the door and stepped inside. "Hello, how may I help you?" The receptionist asked with a sweet smile on her face, "Um, I'm here to see Mrs. Susie Wolff. I am her new PA." Y/n explained, wiping her clammy hands on her pants.

The receptionist typed a few things before picking up her phone and calling someone. After a few minutes, the woman looked up at her again, "Okay, you can go sit and Mrs. Wollf will be with you shortly." 

Y/n nodded and turned to go sit in the lobby. The girl sat down and looked around, studying the lobby of the building. This must be where Susie works when her husband is busy doing whatever it is he does and she wants to be around her son.

"Alright, have a wonderful day. Be a good boy for Jessi, okay?" Y/n turned at the sound of Susie's voice to see her kneeling down with her hands on a little blonde boy's shoulders. The little boy nodded and wrapped his arms around Susie's neck.

Y/n and Susie watched as another woman, whom Y/n admittedly didn't notice at first, picked the young boy up and walked out of the building. Y/n continued to watch the duo leave, not noticing Susie turn to her with a smile.

"Ms. Lee? Ms. Lee?" Susie called out before putting a hand on Y/n's shoulder. Y/n jumped up in surprise and whipped around, "妈的! Oh, Mrs. Wolff. I apologise. I didn't see you walking up to me." Y/n breathed, putting a hand over her heart as if it would stop the racing.

"Did I scare you? I'm sorry." Susie apologised with a chuckle, "It's fine. Anyway, good morning to you, Mrs. Wolff. How was your morning so far?" Y/n questioned, standing up.

"Oh, it was okay. It's been a long and busy one. How about you? How was your morning so far?" Susie asked, "It was a morning. I woke up, got dressed, and drove here." Y/n answered.

Susie gestured for Y/n to follow her, "That's certainly a way to start the morning. Are you hungry?" Susie questioned, Y/n opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by her stomach growling.

It wasn't as loud as books and stories make it out to be, but when in a huge, silent, echoey hallway where things seemed much more audible than they really were...

Y/n's jaw dropped and her hands pressed against her stomach as if that would stop the growling. "I guess that answers my question." Susie chuckled, "We don't have food in the office, but I was planning on revisiting that cafe we went to last time. It's a tad bit stuffy in the office anyway."

Sussie led the younger woman out of the building, "Do you want to ride with me or are you fine taking your car?" Susie questioned. 

Y/n wanted to take the rental car, but she also wanted to ride with Susie. It would be nice to get to know her boss better, but at the same time, Y/n didn't know if it was appropriate to do so.

But wait.

She's a PA, which means she should be nearby at all times during work hours, right? With a nod, Y/n walked up to the passenger side door and put her hand on the handle, "I hope you don't mind if I ride with you." 

Susie waved her in, "No problem. Come on in." She said. Y/n opened the door to the Mercedes and slid into the passenger seat. 

Y/n looked around the interior with a look of awe. She had never been in such a luxury car. She rented the BMW, but it was at a discounted price and even that price was much more than she could afford.

"You like the car?" Susie questioned, looking at Y/n inspecting the interior of the car, "Yeah, it's much nicer than any other car I've been in. When I make enough money, I'm going to get one. A Mercedes, I mean." Y/n answered.

"Is your current car not good enough?" Susie asked, reversing as Y/n buckled up, "No, that's not my car. I rented it and I have to return it soon. I don't have enough money to get one at the moment. Spent all of my money on my expensive apartment." Y/n sighed.

Susie's smile faded as she processed what Y/n had said, while Y/n herself was practically kicking herself. 

Why would she just tell her business to her new boss like that?

"Y/n, do you have enough money for food?" Susie asked but got no answer, which was enough of an answer for her. 

Susie cleared her throat, "Moving on, I'm going to need you to fill out some stuff when we get to the cafe. I forgot to bring it with me last time." Susie changed the subject.

"Of course. I'm excited to go to the cafe again. They had delicious pastries. Have you tried their normal menu?" Y/n asked, gratefully accepting the topic switch.

She didn't need to or want to, seem like she wasn't in a good place. She wasn't, but she wasn't going to tell her new employer that she had spent so much on her apartment, the car, and buying her first set of groceries, that she had no more money.

Which was a huge reason as to why she got this job in the first place. She was a wannabe model whose life went to shit as soon as she tried to be a model. If it weren't for her parents and Felix, she'd...

Y/n shook her head. She didn't want to think about what would've become of her if they hadn't lent her enough money to pay her bills. 

In a way, they were also the only reason she was able to make it to Monaco. 

Susie looked at her new assistant out of the side of her eye. She had been talking to her, but she could tell Y/n's attention wasn't on her.

Her face was blank, but her body said that she wasn't happy with what was going through her head. Susie parked the car in the lot of the cafe in which they first officially met and turned the car off.

She studied the half-Australian before reaching out, pulling her hand back in hesitation before fully reaching out and placing her hand on top of Y/n's clenched one.

Y/n nearly jumped out of her skin when Susie's smooth hand covered hers, the touch was cool yet sent sparks of heat in her stomach. Y/n looked up at the much older woman with wide eyes, "Sorry ma'am, did you--?"

"Are you okay? Truthfully, are you okay?" Susie questioned, Y/n nodded her head, putting her free hand over Susie's, "I'm fine. I was just deep in thought. We should go in." Y/n said, pulling her hands away and exiting the car.

Susie let out a sigh and followed Y/n. It wasn't her place to push the girl, but as her employer and more importantly a mother, she couldn't help but want to understand more about what was upsetting her.

She wanted to help the younger woman as much as she could. But first, it seemed she had to gain her trust.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The two women now sat at a two-person table on the patio with menus in their hands and a silence between them. It was the type of silence that was not uncomfortable nor was it comfortable. 

It was the type of silence one could enjoy for a long time without feeling awkward, but it wasn't the type of silence that was comfortable.

Y/n didn't know how to describe it in any other way than that.

The dark-haired half-Aussie looked up when she heard Susie clear her throat gently, "Uh, do you know what you want yet? The stuff we got last time was pretty good, so I might take some home for my family." Susie said, continuing to look at the options for food.

"Uh, yeah. I think I know what I want, but I don't know if it's any good. It's the Brioche au Homrd façon Riviera. What about you?" Y/n asked, Susie showed Y/n the menu and pointed at which one she wanted, "Ah, the Croque Monsieur à la Truffe. It sounds delicious. Oh, here comes the waitress." Y/n noted, politely waving over to the waitress.

As the waitress walked over, Susie's phone began to ring, "Shoot, I have to take this. Do you mind ordering for me?" Susie asked, grabbing her phone from her purse.

"Go on, Mrs. Wolff. I'll order for you." Y/n smiled before turning to the waitress.

Susie walked outside the cafe and stood by the car, "Hello?" Susie answered, "Hello, liebling." The gruff voice of her husband greeted sweetly.

"How are things going in Sakhir?" Susie asked, "Things are going great. The car is looking wonderful and I'm really confident this season. How are things going with your new intern?" Toto questioned.

"She's my personal assistant, Toto. And she's wonderful so far. A really beautiful and sweet girl that I think will make a wonderful personal assistant." Susie said. Toto could hear that she wanted to say something, but didn't want to continue and, knowing her, whatever it was was eating at her.

"And what is the problem?" Toto questioned, "I..." Susie hesitated. She wanted to help Y/n because she knew that the woman would end up in a really bad situation. She'd earn €33,965 per year or €2,684.85 per month and, as much as it seemed, it would only pay for her rent. 

It wouldn't be enough for her to fully live off of and Susie wished she could raise the amount she had to pay, but she wasn't legally allowed to.

But it also wasn't any of her business, so she just shook her head, "Nothing. Nothing at all." Susie sighed.

After about a twenty-minute conversation with her husband, Susie hung up and made her way back to the restaurant. "I'm back. Sorry for keeping you." Susie apologised, pulling out the chair and sitting down.

"It's fine, Mrs. Wolff. The food just got here anyway." Y/n said, placing the food Susie ordered in front of her. 

"Okay, so while we eat, I'm going to have you sign some documents that I forgot to have you sign and I'll explain what you'll be doing," Susie said, opening up her purse and pulling out some papers.

Y/n, who had begun cutting her lobster roll in half, looked up at the sound of the paper being placed in front of her. Her hands were a bit messy, so she extended her pinky and used it to drag the documents over to her side where she could see better.

After looking it over, Y/n grabbed her napkin and wiped off her hands before grabbing a pen that Susie offered, "Thanks," Y/n muttered.

"So as my personal assistant you will help me with managing schedules, communicating, taking notes, planning, organizing, preparing, and reminding." Susie explained, picking up a half of her sandwich.

Y/n looked up from the paperwork she was doing and looked at Susie with confusion written all over her freckled face.

 "I know I didn't explain it well. You will basically be helping me schedule meetings, appointments, and events. You'll help me answer phone calls, emails, and any inquiries. You will be taking meeting minutes and transcribing from dictation, planning travel, including flights, accommodations, and transportation, organizing events and conferences, preparing reports, presentations, and briefs, and reminding their manager of important tasks and deadlines." Susie said.

Y/n put her pen down and nodded her head, "I know it sound like a lot to do alone, but you won't be doing git alone. We'll be working together. The only thing that you'll probably be doing alone is running errands for me when I'm busy." Susie reassured, biting into her sandwich.

"Oh, I understand. Doesn't sound too difficult to do." Y/n spoke, picking up her roll and taking a big bite. Y/n hummed in satisfaction as the flavours of her food hit her tongue, "This is really good." The woman muttered.

"I've never had food from here either, but I'm really enjoying this." Susie agreed.

"So, Mrs. Wolff, how long have you been in motorsports?" Y/n asked, "Well, I started out as a driver and then I decided I'd  help little girls achieve their dreams of becoming F1 drivers themselves. What about you? I read that you used to be a really talented driver before quitting." Susie noted.

"I was close to becoming an F1 driver, but I contracted menegitis and I lost my hearing, so I couldn't compete anymore. Also, I couldn't get any sponsors despite being "talented"" Y/n said, putting air quotes around talented.

"I've watched some of your old races and I think you would've made it pretty far in F1." Susie complimented, wiping her hands and mouth.

"Thank you, Mrs. Wolff." Y/n thanked bashfully.

"Please, call me Susie. We'll be working close together from now on." Susie gave Y/n a smile and, once again, the girl couldn't help but notice how beautiful her smile was.

The two had settled into a comfortable silence where the only sounds that were heard was the ambiance of the cafe with the patrons chattering, utensils clinking against plates, and the sound of the kitchen workers making food and drink in the back.

Susie finished her food and wiped her hands and mouth again, leaning against the table and watching Y/n finish up her own food. 

"Say, Y/n," Susie called to grab her attention. Y/n looked up and tilted her head curiously, "If you had the chance, would you become a driver again?"

Y/n froze. Driving again had always been a sensitive topic to her. She wanted to drive again. She wanted to feel the wheel under her hands, a helmet on her head, and the seat that's fitted perfectly for her.

She wanted to be a driver more than she wanted to model, but she knew she could never do it again. The inside of her ears didn't work, which means she couldn't hear any radio messages.

Unless there was a way they could help her hear without using the ear pieces, it was impossible and Y/n told her just that.

"I would if I could. But with me being unable to hear normally, there's just no way. I have to wear headphones that cover my cochlear and hearing aid or else I wouldn't be able to hear anything." Y/n explained.

Susie nodded in understanding, thinking about something before deciding to discuss it with her husband later.

"Okay, well, back to business. The F1 Academy won't be announced until November, but we have a lot of things to do before it opens. Are you ready?" Susie asked.

"I am."

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[k-aay]

💭ˎˊ˗ lie detector - geto suguru

💭ˎˊ˗ an !! - jus a little smth I put together! enjoy <3 (geto's so fine literally my mans)

You were wondering how it ever came down to this. How it came down to you sitting in front of everyone, waiting for a distraction to take all eyes off you. You could feel sweat dripping from your temple as you glance towards different people across the room. 

"Are you going to answer the question or is it time for you to do a dare?" one of them question, you could've sworn that you were about to strangle them with all your force. "Uh... sorry...." you begin as you slowly start to calm down. "What was the question again?" The person sighs and rolls their eyes. 

"Do you like him or not." Lying wouldn't have been a problem if only you weren't strapped to a lie detector. One that was accurate enough to detect even the dirtiest secrets. You didn't have any that were big enough to destroy your entire reputation. But you had one that could ruin-what you thought- was your life. 

Doing the dare was an option, but it would leave everyone to believe that you didin fact have a liking towards him. Geto Suguru. At first, you were dying to do everything in your power to avoid him since you two did not get along in the slightest. But now, you were dying for a way to get out of this lie detector so you didn't have to admit to liking him. 

"No. I don't like him," you bite your tongue after the lie you spit left your mouth. You made eye contact with Geto across the room. To your surprise, he seemed interested in the game he called "stupid" and "immature." Interested enough to have a disappointed look wiped across his face but also a hint of hope in his eyes when the detector loaded a response to your answer. 

LIE! 

You shut your eyes closed at the sound, knowing defeat was just at hand. You glanced at Geto and back at the people behind the screen, viewing the detectors results. "I dunno, y/n, it seems like your heart rate is going up by the second. Are you sure?" You nod your head immediately, "You're really going to believe a stupid machine? This thing can be broken for all we know!" you try to defend yourself. 

"Lies! I say you have to do a dare! Who's with me?" Slowly, the people in the same room as you started chanting "Dare!" You sighed, wanting to just disappear right this second. "What's the dare?" you question, removing the necessities for the lie detector machine. 

"May I be the one to choose the dare?" Geto stepped forward and placed his hand on the shoulder of the man who was running all this nonsense. "Uh, yeah, sure!" Geto's eyes shifted from the man to you with a grin plastered on his face. Oh, that stupid grin. It was the one he always looked at you with when you both knew that he was winning. And you hated it, you hated how you knew you were losing and you hated how good he looked. 

"So, y/n," he begins, walking up to you. You stood up from the chair you were sitting in before with your arms crossed. "Yes, Geto," you respond with an attitude. You put on your best tough-look, but in reality, you were hoping that he wouldn't see past that and realize the fear in your eyes. "I'm not evil or anything so I'll make this simple." He brings his face closer to your ear and whispers, "Just stay in a room with me alone for ten minutes. I want to talk with you." 

You could feel the smile on his face against your ear and it only irritated you further. "That's... fine," you finally say, clenching your fist. He notices, "Great, because I'm sure you don't have a choice anyways." He places his hand on your wrist, relieving the tension you had curling up in your hands within a second. 

He knew the affect he had on you, you loathed him for it. 

Geto pulls you to a seperate room from everyone else. You could still hear the murmurs and the whispers about the two of you yet still being in a different place. "Why waste such a good dare to talk to me when you could've humiliated me in front of everyone with the snap of your fingers?" you question, not wanting to make eye contact with him. "Just because..." he trails off, not bothering to properly answer your question. 

"I'm surprised I even managed to get you here with me all alone." Geto places his hands in his pockets as he walks ever so slowly towards you. "But that's not the point here, angel. We only have ten minutes here so let's spend it wisely." He takes another step towards you. "What's your plan here?" You cross your arms, finally breaking the no eye contact rule. Then he takes another step. "To make you admit you like me." 

You scoff, "What are we in, middle school?" Another step. Only now, you realize how close he is to you yet you don't bother to move back. "I thought you found this game stupid and immature. What's with the change of mind?" 

"You." He reaches out for your hand, you don't stop him. "You always manage to bombard my mind with thoughts that I can't escape," he admits. You could sense the desperation in his eyes, the sincerity in his tone. He couldn't have been more honest. And he couldn't have wanted anything more than you. "I know you feel the same way, angel. Face it, you want me as bad as I do you." 

"What makes you think that?" He places a hand against your hip, "The fact that you're not moving away when I touch you. How you slowly begin to break eye contact with me when all I want to do is look into those pretty eyes of yours." He leans in closer to you. "How much I affect you and rile you up so easily." 

"You're delusional," you spit. Just as he said, you break eye contact with him. "I've already passed that stage when I stopped denying my feelings for you, my angel." You hated how right he was. You wanted him. Badly. 

"You're doing it again. You're not as good at hiding as you think you are. Especially when it comes to how you feel." He places his hand on your chin, redirecting you to face him. 

"Look me in the eyes and say you don't want me as badly as I do. Only then I'll believe you, angel." 

#jjk x reader #fanfic #fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #angst #jjk #geto fanfic #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #imagines #geto x you #enemies to lovers #romance

[cinnasalmon]

→ Zevlor NSFW Alphabet

Various NSFW relationship headcanons, one letter at a time! Very long. Even longer than the SFW one. Sorry not sorry

SFW Alphabet here !

CAUTION: There is some dom/sub and kink talk. Nothing graphic, but JSYK.

→ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The doting just doesn't stop with this man. No matter how rough the sex was, how feral he was, how much of a different side of him he showed, he will revert back to his usual affectionate self.

He will make for damn sure his partner his taken care of before he even thinks of sleeping—no matter now tired he is. He cannot fully rest until his partner or lover is relaxed. Water, a bath, extra cushions, blankets, massaging oil, etc. at the ready. 

God forbid he does fall asleep before they do, the entire next day is dedicated entirely to them, 100%, even if they state several times they're fine and he's got nothing to worry about. Doesn't matter to him, in his mind he needs to make up for lack of being a good partner.

→ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His self-esteem has seen better days, so he probably doesn't have a favorite body part of his own. I think if he had to choose, maybe abs or legs: they gotta be toned as hell, even at his age. Good job, Zevlor. You earned it. 👏

Favorite body part of his partner's though? Is “everything” an answer? Body worship extraordinaire over here. Whatever body part his partner doesn't like of their own, he'll love on it extra. They don't even need to verbally state they're self-conscious about it; he takes notes, and he knows. Next time, he'll spend plenty of time leaving slow, loving kisses on it and caressing it with a heated touch.

→ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Oh lordy this man has a lot of cum. Hah, maybe not as much as someone like Halsin, but the longer he goes without cumming the more cum his loads will have, obviously. But even otherwise, I still think he's got a fair bit. 

His taste isn't too distinct; it's pretty run-of-the-mill. But he has quite a bit and it is thicky and sticky, so if his partner is one to swallow, get ready. And if they don't swallow, well get ready, too. He'll be cumming everywhere and if he cums on their face? They better have their eyes shut tight that's all I'm saying lmao

→ D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I've seen a couple of people mention a possible scent kink and I can't get it out of my mind. This man cannot get enough of his partner's smell; their pheromones drive him uh, fucking bonkers. Of course he enjoys it after a fresh wash, but when they're hot and sweaty? My goodness he's got a chub just from a whiff. And when their scent changes from becoming aroused? Insert boi-oing sound effect here ‘cause that's what's happening in them trousers.

Convince him to give some training, particularly outdoors for best effect, and watch as he becomes more… hands-on as time goes on. Wouldn't be hard to get him to tussle—a little play wrestling if you will—and he'll be tempted to fuck right there in the dirt. 

→ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

For sure knows what he's doing. He's got experience under his belt (hehe), it's just… been a while is all. 

Back in his heyday, Hellriders were the local authority and sought after as partners and lovers, so no shortage there. I'm not fixed on one set of headcanons for Zevlor's young soldier days, so whether he had a hoe phase or was committed to one partner the whole time, I do think he's had experience nonetheless. (However, I have been toying around the idea of a virgin/celibate Zevlor, but that's a whole other can of worms not particularly relevant right now)

Plus, he's a romantic, so even if he doesn't have much experience, his intuition and drive will translate well in the bedroom.

→ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

OH LORD. Anything where he can see their face. He likes seeing just how good he makes someone feel, just from his touch (and/or words 👀). It doesn't matter if he's dom or sub or top or bottom or what-the-fuck-ever—he gets so much pleasure from seeing his partner unravel. He's cum solely from getting his lovers off before, so that's nothing new, either.

Missionary is a given, but he also enjoys lotus. If he's riled up, mating press and the like is also on the menu. If he wants to show off his high strength and his partner fits the bill, he'll stand up, hold them by their ass, and bounce them on that thang. 

→ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I mean, he is pretty serious for the most part—he aims to please. But sometimes sex is weird! There's funny noises and cramps that happen sometimes. He's used to it, and he'll go with the flow. He just enjoys being intimate, no matter how awkward it can be. He may chuckle here and there, but he mainly feeds off of the energy of his lover. If they get embarrassed, he'll reassure them they shouldn't be ashamed of their own body and the weird noises it makes sometimes. 

And sometimes if a particularly contorting position spontaneously falls apart and they fall on top of each other, he'll make sure they're okay first and foremost, then have a laugh at the happenstance—it was worth a try!

→ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This is quite influenced by my own bias/preferences as I'm borderline turned off by body hair, so please proceed with caution knowing that lmao

I personally don't see him as a hairy guy like, hardly at all. He keeps his face shaved (and has fairly dark stubble when it starts growing back) but otherwise his body hair is very fine and sparse. Mainly arms, legs, some hairs on his chest, a semblance of a happy trail, and a light bush that doesn't really grow enough to warrant much maintenance. 

Color-wise, very close to his sandy locks, perhaps a shade or two darker.

→ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Oh. My. Lord. He is a king and expert on intimacy; as I've stated numerous times before this man craves connection above all else. He is focused entirely on his partner and their pleasure, created and caused by himself. Sure he likes the little bit of ego boost from seeing his partner through to their climax just from his touch, but what matters most is they're safe and comfortable enough to be in such a headspace with him. 

→ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

So, this really depends. Before Elturel fell, it wasn't too terribly often, maybe a couple of times a week. 

But I think after the exile, he'll be too stressed to take care of himself. Howeverrr… if he pines after and crushes on someone, he'll realize just how pent up he is. He'll still try to be a gentleman and not frantically get himself off to the thought of their naked body rubbing against his, but eventually he'll cave and have an immediate and immense sense of relief… and feel like a total pervert.

Being in an established relationship, he doesn't really feel the need unless he or his partner is away for a few days or more for whatever reason. He misses their companionship, so his hand will have to suffice until they can be together again.

→ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

The most obvious is breeding kink. This man has always wanted a family but never let himself have one due to the expectations and stress of being a Hellrider. But if his partner begs him to breed them, regardless if they can physically bear child or not, he's going to snap.

And like I mentioned before, scent kink. 

→ L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Not into exhibitionism; he likes the intimacy of privacy. He doesn't have to worry about prying eyes or ears. So, anywhere that is secluded, ideally at home or a room at an inn, but if the situation calls for it, “secluded” is the keyword here 😉

→ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Ummmmmm anything his partner does (jk…ish). But for real, body worship, y'all: make him feel wanted, loved, noticed, etc. His self-image can be in the pits sometimes, so love on him plenty, dote on him often; show him he is worthy, he is enough, and let him steer the reins if he wants to take it further. 

If you want to go from 0 to 100, the base of his tail is extremely sensitive. He could be holding back with a steel resolve, but consider that the feral button. A gentle touch will become a pointy grip. A relieving sigh rolls into a hungry snarl. Godspeed.

And honest to god, I think he would probably get turned on if he saw his crush or partner do something heroic or good (without expecting anything in return). Killing some threatening hyenas or goblins, breaking up a fight… shit, even helping an old lady pick up her spilled groceries. Whatever they're doing, he's in pure awe, and will jump on those bones at the opportunity.

→ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

(CAUTION: degradation, pain, humilation, and mindbreak)

As a dom = degradation or pain kink is going to be very dicey. He's devastated just by seeing his partner hurt, but if it’s caused by him? Girl bye. Even times when he gets a little carried away and feral and draws some blood with his scratches or bites can wrack him with guilt, no matter how much his partner reassures him they enjoyed it both in the moment and afterwards. So anything beyond that would probably be a hard no from him, but he'll be willing to hear their reasoning behind it and see if a compromise can be reached.

As a sub = my first thought is humiliation kink like, bordering mindbreak. I think he can handle some embarrassment, but humiliation where it's teetering the edge of mindbreak would be a no-no zone. Obviously from the events of Act 2, he doesn't take well to any threats to his psyche, and I'd wager that would extend to kink as well. But he's got immense mental fortitude—so he can handle some heat, if you're picking up what I'm putting down. 

→ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I'm a parrot when it comes to this but it's true—he is a man. of. service. And I'm not just talking in terms of a paladin.

He aims to please—especially his partner, like hello!!! Of course he loves receiving, but he wants to give more than he receives. That's his motto, baby. He gets pleasure from pleasing his partner, he could cum just from getting them off (and he has!)

And skill? Oh have no fear, he has experience, but it'll only take one, maybe two times before he knows his lover's sensitive points that sends shivers down their spine. He loves their taste, their arousal, just from his touch. He'll be an expert in his partner's body language in no time, he knows how to read them. They won't need to suggest or tell him to do anything.

→ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Oh oh oh he loves to go slow and sensual by far ! He wants to see every single thrust he makes unto his partner reveal on their face. 

And on the contrary, he loves it to be slow and sensual when he's on the receiving end, too. He wants to feel everything. 

Don't get me wrong, the also loves it rough both ways as well, but to feel the most connection with his lover/partner, slow and sensual is the way to go. Though sometimes he just wants to go hard and fast, feral as fuck, to breed and be bred. 

→ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As stated before, he likes his lovemaking like one cooks a stew—low and slow. He prefers to take his time, but boy howdy it would be mighty difficult for him to decline a quickie. More than capable of achieving it, especially if he's been teased beforehand. That way, by the time the clothes come off, he's already hard, baby! 

The best quickies are when he and/or his partner have somewhere to be soon, but they neeeeed to get it out now; he looks so good; they can't stop thinking about it; etc. until they're basically blocking the front door. He may huff and puff but secretly, he likes the game 😉

→ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Very open-minded, willing to try just about anything once. His partner's pleasure is his priority, so if they're super into something or want to experiment, he's all for it.

Not much of a risk taker nowadays, unless he knows it'll pay off (or if he thinks it's worth it). Many, many moons ago he would've been riskier, and every so often that side of him will come back out should the stars align. 

→ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It depends. He's still got lots of endurance in him, but the whole ‘aging’ thing is creeping up on him. He can go a few rounds, but his refractory period is a bit longer now than it was 20+ years ago. 

But, get him riled up enough, and through sheer force of lust he might even be ready again before his partner is. 

He likes to cum at least once before stickin’ it in—giving or receiving—because he will last longer that way. Not that he would cum instantly, but it has happened before (cough the first time he and his partner had sex together cough)

→ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He may have a toy or two for penetrating himself, but largely he just gets himself off with his hand, especially after being exiled from Elturel. I don't think his toys were a priority to take with him. But hey, you never know. 

If his partner has a toy, he's willing to try it out if suggested to him, especially if the relationship is matured and could use some ‘newness’. He's very open-minded, especially if it's something his partner is already into.

→ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He isn't naturally a tease unless he gets riled up. Then at that point, it's payback, i.e. if his partner rubs their ass up against his groin in public, then best believe he'll be taking notes and um…. ‘review’ them later in the bedroom. 

It wouldn't be impossible for him to tease, though, he likes the cat-and-mouse game and likes to switch it up sometimes. His payback for teasing him earlier would probably be when his partner is tending to household chores. Especially something like cooking, where they can't just walk away from a roux they've spent the past 15 minutes continuously stirring.

→ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not very loud, but he does make more noise the more turned on and (at times) feral he is. If his lover is very vocal and loud, they won't hear him very well. 

Makes a lot of grunts, growls, anything guttural and throaty, really. Including—if the other party can get him to speak it—Infernal. He'll mutter some Infernal curses every so often, but to actually speak it? He has to be in a specific headspace.

→ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Following up from above, I like to headcanon the more Infernal he speaks, the more wild and unhinged he gets, and vice-versa. His “lizard brain” (fiendish brain?) tendencies come out and override his otherwise natural behaviors: goes hard and fast, chasing his own high, clawing, biting, tail thrashing around if it isn't already tightly coiled around a leg (or other body part 👀), etc. 

As a bonus I also have been thinking more of the headcanon that tieflings have succubus/incubus spittle (only when very aroused) and uh… yeah. Talk about a whole new layer of arousal and connection for our Hellrider. Hoo lordy /fans self

→ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's in fantastic shape. Being a military commander is one thing, but in a cavalry? Where one has to wield a weapon, shield, and/or flag while on horseback? Lord have mercy. He won't be ripped to shreds or jacked as hell, but his muscles are firm and well-toned. 

In addition, lots of scars. Even if much of the city guard stayed within city limits where crime was low and they didn't have to do much of anything, Zevlor always preferred to be out in Elturgard and fighting threats head-on. Because of this, he's got his fair share of past battles decorating his skin. 

→ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

So there's a whole lot of layers to that onion of a headcanon I don't want to get into here, but once he knows he has a partner or lover he can go to for sex, best believe he'll be taking them up on that. Pre- or post-exile, he'll have plenty of stress to let out. Sparring and training can only alleviate so much. 

But once he's in an established relationship, it's much more of a sharing-of-pleasure-and-uniting-as-one kind of thing. It means a lot to him to copulate with his partner. He strives for connection in all ways, and sex is certainly no exception.

→ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I am so sorry you have to hear it from me but at his age? He's falling asleep immediately. Once he's had his fill (hehe), it's lights out quicker than you can say “That was amazing.” But! The more he's turned on, he'll go for more rounds obviously. Though once he's at his limit? Good night, see you in the morning. 

———

If you made it this far congrats! Also I encourage you to fill out this alphabet too, for Zevlor or whoever!

#zevlor #bg3 zevlor #headcanons #nsft #i only proofread this once so #weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee #sorry it took so long i wasnt planning on my sinuses imploding

[jangofettjamz]

Stay with me

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

TW: Depression, Self Harm, General Unhappiness

Summary: Jenna discovers your ongoing depression.

2nd Person POV

Three weeks.... three long weeks of loneliness. You had all but isolated yourself from the world, not to be seen by anyone. Your family and friends constantly worrying about you and your whereabouts. But you didn't care. You just didn't care anymore.

Your sleeping pattern was completely destroyed, eating habits fluctuating between eating too much or too little or just not eating at all. Hygiene was at an all time low, snack packets littered the house like a landfill.

You felt defeated, conquered. You couldn't even get out of bed to check the time. The only thing you could hope for is the mattress to swallow you whole removing you from the world; not that it'd make a difference. So you kept telling yourself.

You lay in your bed staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, only to be disrupted by the ringing of your cell phone on your nightstand. You almost didn't lean over to see who it was but curiosity had its way with you and forced you to look. It was Jenna.

Embarrassment radiated through your body having not even thought about how your absence might effect her. Your reached out your arm to pick it up and hovered your thumb over the answer icon.

Mustering up the courage, you finally answer the phone and gave the best performance you could to ensure her that you were fine. "Hello"

"Y/N? Baby are you alright? No one's heard from you for weeks! I've been trying to call you and went to your door multiple times, babe." Regret. Thats what you felt the moment she expressed her worry for your well being. How could you be so selfish?

Still you persisted in trying to convince her "I'm fine, Jen. Really I am. I've just been really really busy at work; barely any time to myself" you fake laugh.

Jenna saw right through your facade "Really..? Because I called your boss and they said you haven't turned up for work in about a week and a half and I haven't seen you for three. Honey you know I'm the first one to call if you ever need help, so why won't you let me in?"

She was pleading, something you had a very emotional reaction to. The last thing you ever wanted to hear from her was pleading. "Jen... its... *sniffles* "

Jenna doesn't back down "Y/N... please... Tell me what's wrong"

"I... I can't get out of bed... my bed is a mess and so is my room. I feel sick to my stomach and I..." you held back tears.

"Go on, sweet boy it's okay. Tell me what's going on" She says with pure softness in her voice. No hint of contempt.

"I hurt myself. I've been hurting myself, Jenna" There it was, an admission. With your pride broken and tears down your face you confessed to your girlfriend about your dangerous little habit.

"I'm coming over. I'll be there in 5 minutes tops." You can already here her bustling around her house looking for her car keys. You were sobbing from the guilt. "Hey Hey l sweet boy it's okay. I'm not mad I promise. We're gonna get you cleaned up and figure this out together, okay?"

"O-okay.... I love you, Jennie..." you sniffle as you call her your little affectionate nickname.

"I love you too, sweet bunny. I'll be there very soon." She blew a kiss through the phone before hanging up.

*Five minutes later*

Jenna opened the front door via the spare key, her eyes taking in the mess of the living room. She couldn't focus on that right now, instead she made her way up to your bedroom and knocked the door.

"Y/N? Bunny are you in there?" She called out to you but you refused ti answer, hoping that she would leave and not see you in your pathetic state. "Babydoll I'm gonna come in now, okay?"

The sound of the door opening made you hide under the covers from the fear of judgment; her judgement. However, that never came. The footsteps drew closer and closer and you felt a hand remove the sheet you were hiding under.

The state she saw you in broke her sweet heart, wanting nothing more than to just pick you up in her arms and shield you from everything despite the height difference. "Oh sweet boy... hey... it's only me"

That did it. The dam of tears collapsed on itself and you bawled like a child leaving Jenna to pick up the pieces. "Shhh, sh, sh, sh it's okay baby. You're safe I promise. It's only me in here, no one else." Her hands went through your greasy hair, evidence of your lack of hygiene the last few days."

"I-I'm sorry for n-not calling you J-Jenna..." you wanted to give her a thousand apologies and you didn't even know why.

Jenna shut down your apologies immediately "its okay bunny you did absolutely nothing wrong. You're just going through a very hard time right now." Even in the dimly lit room she could see the marks on your forearm, but didn't draw any attention to it; nit yet anyway.

"My love why don't you have a shower, hmm? Or bath up to you. While you do that I'll clean up your room and check up on you afterwards. You have any clean bedsheets for me, angel?" She asked sweetly.

"In the basket downstairs with all the other clean washing" you answered lowly.

She gave you a loving kiss to your forehead "Thank you. But before you take a bath, can I clean your cuts? I'll be gentle I promise" you were hoping she'd just ignore the cuts, but they do need to be cleaned. You nodded your head with lingering shame.

She helped you to the bathroom, which was thankfully clean and sat you on the toilet seat. Jenna grabbed the first aid kit and got to work "Honey I need to clean the cut of dirt first before I disinfect it. Can you put your arms under the sink for me?" You did as you were told "That's my good boy there you go. Just hold your arms under for a few minutes"

It stung but you weren't expecting it to be painless. After the wound was clean of any dirt she started to disinfect "You're doing such a good job for me, bunny. So brave for me" she praised. You truly did not deserve this woman

"These dressings are waterproof so you can bathe with them, but try not to get it too wet, okay?" You nodded at her instructions and she proceeded to run the bath. While the water ran she rubbed your back and rocked you to keep you calm and not overstimulated.

"Alright baby it's bath time" She helped you into the bath with a gentle guidance. The temperature felt just right, something you were very grateful for. The last thing you wanted was to be overstimulated from how the water felt on your sensitive skin.

While you cleaned yourself, Jenna cleaned the bedroom from all the junk and replaced the bedsheets. She wanted to ask so many questions but she knew not to overwhelm you in your extremely vulnerable state.

Around 35 minutes after you got in the bath you finally decided you were clean enough. Your hair was clean and fresh and the body odre was gone. You grabbed a towel and went back to your room to find Jenna sitting on the now clean bed inside your now clean room.

She tapped the bed signalling you to sit down next to her. Once you did she instantly wrapped her arms around your fragile body in a protective hold refusing to let go. "Sweetheart what happened?" The inevitable question was finally asked, you couldn't really narrow it down to one event since it's been building up for a while.

"I... its been building up for a while. I started feeling unhappy for about a year and it just escalated from there. You know I've been going to therapy and stuff but it just kept getting worse and worse... I didn't think I'd start hurting myself... *sniffle* I feel so stupid" you started crying heavily again

"Shhhhh you're not stupid baby boy, not stupid at all. You're just going through so so much and you felt like you needed some form of release from all the stress regardless of what it was. But please don't feel like you can't let me in, I wanna help my precious baby whether be physically or mentally." She wiped your tears with the pad of her thumbs and held your very close.

"I know you had your reasons for doing this bubs and they're completely valid, but please let me help you. There's better ways than this I promise. I don't wanna lose you, bunny. You're too precious to me to lose, I love you so so much and I need you here with me. I need you to stay with me baby."

You weakly nodded at her words, you knew this wasn't going to be an easy road ahead but she was going to help you navigate it together. "I won't leave, Jenna. I promise."

"That's my perfect angel..." the two of you share a loving deep kiss, only sealing the love you two felt for one another. She pulled back and looked into your eyes. "So gorgeous. My perfect boy" the praise made you tear up again which made her hold you against her chest and lay down on the bed.

"You're gonna be okay, Y/N. I'm here now, everything's gonna be okay. Such a good boy for me, it's all gonna be okay." And you really believed her, despite everything you've went through you fully believed her words. Jenna cradled you in her arms in whispered sweet words, pulling you into a safe space where you felt nothing was wrong.

"How about we get some pizza and chill for the next few days. Its the weekend and I've missed you a bunch. Maybe we can even go somewhere tomorrow, whaddya say?"

"Okay. Dominoes?"

"Whatever you want, sweet boy. I'd do anything to make you happy" Those words brought a smile, a small smile but a smile nonetheless.

And that made Jenna very very happy

A/N: This hasn't been proofread so the spelling/grammar/punctuation might be shit. Sorry I've been M.I.A but I've been really down lately and that's putting it lightly. I haven't forgotten about you guys and I hope this fic can make it to you.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #male reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #wednesday x y/n

[imshii-kin]

Good Luck

Chapter # 4 As Sweet as Sugar Cookies

Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader

Wattpad

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 (You are here), Chapter 5

Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. - Mary Poppins

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

"No," Tim says crossing his arms. "I have homework to catch up on, I can't play Minecraft with you right now."

Y/n frowns, "But Tim," she whines "Everyone else is busy, and I'm booored!" She complained while tugging at his shirt.

The boy rolls his eye at the young girl's antics, "Fine if I play with you, will you leave me alone?" Y/n nodded furiously.

With a tired sigh, Tim leaves his desk, picking up the game chip. "Thirty minutes, max, you got it?"

Y/n laughs happily, running out of his room and down to the lounging room. Tim smiles, a familiar warmth filling his chest.

_

Tim opens his eyes slowly, the early morning sky peeking through the curtains to greet him. A dream, a memory, a mix of both. Tim groans, what a mess this whole situation was.

Slowly, he lifted himself out of bed, checking his phone to see what time it was.

5:34 am

He let out another tired groan, it was too early to be awake. Sadly, he knew falling back asleep would be impossible. Slipping on some sweatpants, Tim makes his way to the kitchen to brew some coffee.

He makes it to the kitchen, tiredly grabbing the coffee grounds from the cabinet, and making his way to the coffee machine.

Tim watches the coffee slide into his mug, the smell of coffee filling the kitchen, before walking back to the cabinet to get some sugar. While he would usually drink his coffee black, he was in the mood for something sweet.

"Can I borrow the sugar when you're done?" A groggy voice asked him.

Tim jumps, swiftly turning around to see who spooked him. Y/n stands behind him with a bowl of Cheerios.

"..."

"..."

Tim sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Why are you up this early?" Y/n shrugged, "Couldn't sleep." She answered.

Frowning, Tim walks back over to the coffee machine, which has stopped brewing. Y/n watches, frowning at his lack of answering, before following.

He puts two spoons of sugar into his coffee, stirring it thoroughly, then passes Y/n the sugar. She mumbles a quiet thank you, putting a little bit of sugar in her cheerios.

Tim and Y/n sit with each other, quietly enjoying the silent Manor.

──●◎●──

It was early afternoon, and Y/n was sneaking some of the cookies Alfred had made. They were heavenly, light, and sweet, the chocolate rich and smooth.

Jason enters the kitchen, clearing his voice, and catching Y/n's attention. "Looks like I've caught a little thief," Jason smirked, Y/n giving him a wide-eyed look, knowing she was caught red-handed.

"...You can have Dick's portion if you don't tell."

Jason laughs, before nodding, "OK, deal." He walks over to Y/n, taking a cookie and biting into it. "Mmm~ They are as good as I remember." Jason chuckles, "Plus, Dick has enough sweets, I'm sure he won't mind me taking some of his."

"Oh? Really now?"

Y/n and Jason look at each other before turning around slowly facing the eldest Wayne. He had a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.

"You think I've had enough sweets? Can't help but feel like you're implying something, Jaybird."

Y/n makes a break for it, leaving Jason behind. "Wha- You Traitor!!" Jason yells as Y/n makes her getaway.

While running Y/n bumps into Damien, causing both of them to stumble. "What the- why are you running around the mansion? You're supposed to be with Alfred." Damion glares at Y/n, annoyed. She bashfully rubs the back of her head, "I was running from Dick," she admits, "speaking of which, do you know any hiding spots? I think I can hear him coming, he must have finished off Jason." Rest in peace Jason... again.

Damion deadpanned, "Seriously?" He blandly questioned. He grumbled when Y/n nodded, a pleading look in her eyes. Dick has been annoying him recently. So, Damien supposes helping Y/n would be a good way to get back at him. Nodding, he helps Y/n up. "I've got some places for you to hide. Follow me."

──●◎●──

Y/n and Damion hid in a small crawl space behind one of the larger paintings for around twenty minutes.

Sadly, Dick is very set on finding Y/n, so twenty minutes was not enough hiding time.

"I got you Y/n!" Dick picked Y/n up, a squeal escaping her as he spins her around. "I'm going to get you back for eating my cookies," he said playfully while carrying Y/n to the living room. Throwing her onto the couch, then trapping her in a hug.

"Let me go." She whined, trying to get out of his grip. Dick smiles, laughing at Y/n's misery, "No, you ate my cookies. Now you must pay the ultimate price." He cackled evilly.

Y/n frowned, "And here I thought you were a hero who believed in mercy." She said, giving him a betrayed and disappointed look, and making him laugh.

Bruce enters the room with a serious look on his face, instantly killing the mood. He looks at Y/n and Dick, before talking.

"Y/n, Clark is here to visit you."

@rosecentury

#batfam #platonic yandere #yandere batman #yandere bruce wayne #yandere clark kent #yandere damian wayne #yandere dc #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere justice league #yandere robin #yandere red robin #yandere red hood #yandere nightwing #yandere superman #yandere superfam

[calliesmemes]

EPIC: THE MUSICAL — ACT ONE

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS featuring lyrics and dialogue pulled from EPIC: THE MUSICAL by Jorge Rivera-Herrans, a new concept album adapting the story of Homer’s Odyssey into a musical.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

❛ I know that I’m ready. ❜

❛ I don’t think that you’re ready. ❜

❛ Know that he will grow from a boy to an avenger. ❜

❛ I could raise him as my own. ❜

❛ Please don’t make me do this. ❜

❛ The blood on your hands is something you can’t lose — all you can choose is whose. ❜

❛ This is the will of the gods. ❜

❛ You’re as old as he was when I left for war. ❜

❛ Will these actions haunt my days? ❜

❛ Every man I’ve slain is the price I pay. ❜

❛ I would trade the world to see my son and wife. ❜

❛ When does a man become a monster? ❜

❛ When does a reason become the blame? ❜

❛ Six hundred men under my command. ❜

❛ The problem’s not the distance; it’s what lies in between. ❜

❛ My kingdom is waiting. ❜

❛ So Captain, what’s the plan? ❜

❛ Look! There, in the distance. I see an island. ❜

❛ I see a light that faintly glows. ❜

❛ Something feels off here. ❜

❛ I say we strike first; we don’t have time to waste. ❜

❛ We should try to find a way no one ends up dead. ❜

❛ You can relax, my friend. ❜

❛ I can tell that you’re getting nervous. ❜

❛ Is this how we are supposed to live? ❜

❛ Here we have a chance for some adjustment. ❜

❛ Give it a try, it's not that hard. ❜

❛ This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms. ❜

❛ Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart. ❜

❛ Stay back, I'm warning you. ❜

❛ Kindness is brave. ❜

❛ Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you? ❜

❛ I see you changing from how I've designed you. ❜

❛ Have you forgotten your purpose? ❜

❛ My life has one mission. ❜

❛ We'll make a greater tomorrow. ❜

❛ Enlighten me, what's your name? ❜

❛ If you're looking for a mentor, I'll make sure your time's well spent. ❜

❛ If there's a problem, we'll have the answer. ❜

❛ I still intend to make sure you don't fall behind. ❜

❛ Don't forget that you're a warrior of a very special kind. ❜

❛ It’s almost too perfect, too good to be true. ❜

❛ Who are you? ❜

❛ We’re just travelers. We come in peace. ❜

❛ What gives you the right to deal a pain so deep? ❜

❛ Your life now is in my hands. ❜

❛ I’ll take from you like you took from me. ❜

❛ There’s been a misunderstanding. ❜

❛ Maybe you and I could make a deal. ❜

❛ I’m so glad we see eye to eye. ❜

❛ If we're defeated, they're good as dead. ❜

❛ No backup, no chance for support. ❜

❛ Our foe must be thwarted right here and now. ❜

❛ Show me how great is your will to survive. ❜

❛ Stand up and fight for your lives. ❜

❛ Defeat is not allowed. ❜

❛ We must live through this day, so fight! ❜

❛ You’ve hurt me enough. ❜

❛ You won’t live through this day. ❜

❛ We must move quickly, we don't have much time. ❜

❛ But captain, what'll we do with our fallen friends? ❜

❛ We are not to let them die in vain. ❜

❛ Our comrades will not die in vain. ❜

❛ Mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use. ❜

❛ The blood we shed, it never dries. ❜

❛ I am neither man nor mythical. ❜

❛ You're a warrior meant to lead the rest. ❜

❛ That's just like you, why should I be surprised? Selfish and prideful and vain. ❜

❛ Every time someone dies I'm the one who is left to deal with the strain. ❜

❛ This way, you won't plague my life. ❜

❛ What a waste of effort spent. ❜

❛ At least I know what I'm fighting for. ❜

❛ Since you claim you're so much wiser, why’s your life spent all alone? ❜

❛ This day, you lost it all. ❜

❛ Is it nature or divine or a blessing in disguise? ❜

❛ Our home's in sight. ❜

❛ Brace for a storm, the likes of which we’ve never seen before. ❜

❛ I'll ensure that we prevail. ❜

❛ We're taking too much damage to survive. ❜

❛ At this rate, we won't make it out alive. ❜

❛ Please don't tell me you're about to do what I think you'll do. ❜

❛ You've heard the legends; this proves they're true. ❜

❛ Don't forget how dangerous the gods are. ❜

❛ How much longer til your luck runs out? ❜

❛ I still believe in goodness. ❜

❛ I just don't wanna see another life end. ❜

❛ You're like the brother I could never do without. ❜

❛ Don’t forget how much we’ve already faced. ❜

❛ I need to talk to you in private. ❜

❛ I can't have you planting seeds of doubt. ❜

❛ I ask for your assistance so we at last can go the distance. ❜

❛ Sounds too easy, what's the catch? ❜

❛ Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. ❜

❛ The end always justifies the means. ❜

❛ Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. ❜

❛ Time for me to be the father I never was. ❜

❛ Why are my eyes and my heart and my soul so heavy? ❜

❛ It isn't very often that I get pissed off. ❜

❛ I'm left without a choice. ❜

❛ I’ve gotta make you bleed. ❜

❛ I need to see you drown. ❜

❛ Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves. ❜

❛ You are far too nice. ❜

❛ I've got no mercy left to give. ❜

❛ The line between naïveté and hopefulness is almost invisible. ❜

❛ I am your darkest moment. ❜

❛ What have you done? ❜

❛ Any last words? ❜

❛ There's only so much left we can endure. ❜

❛ I'm not a player, I'm a puppeteer. ❜

❛ I can’t sleep now knowing everything we've done. ❜

❛ I must say what a brilliant speech you gave. ❜

❛ I don't know who you are nor why you're here. ❜

❛ One wrong move, then you're done for. ❜

❛ All I hear are screams, every time I dare to close my eyes. ❜

❛ I no longer dream, only nightmares of those who've died. ❜

❛ I am the prophet with the answers you seek. ❜

❛ I see a man who gets to make it home alive, but it's no longer you. ❜

❛ How has everything been turned against us? ❜

❛ How did suffering become so endless? ❜

❛ Do I need to change? ❜

❛ What if I'm the problem that's been hiding all along? ❜

❛ If I became the monster, and threw that guilt away — would that make us stronger? ❜

❛ I must become the monster. ❜

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #rpc help #* sentence meme

[py-dreamer]

Rant about shadowpeach (WARNING! Mac slander)

I'm sure you've all heard this time and time again but you know what screw it I'm tossing my 2 cents into the ring

I think my bias for Wukong definitely has a part in this but I will try to be as neutral as possible which is impossible. My personal opinions will absolutely shine through but it is just that: a personal opinion

I love my trio of gay monkeys, I really do.

Is Macaque a good character? Yes

I do think he's a genuinely interesting character, with cool mystery ,interesting backstory, cool powers, he's fun to watch, has a kickass theme song and aesthetic and I can see why a lot of fans attach themselves to them.

Do I love seeing him with Wukong? Yes

Their banter is fun, past shadowpeach can be sweet as sugar (or spicy, I don't judge) and their angst is real yummy.

What I don't like is when the angst is all Wukong's fault. And everyone and their grandma will harp on the Monkey king and just ignore all of Mac's bullsh!t. Especially in fanfics.

Like don't get me wrong, keep writing that good stuff! But like...jeez

The amount of smack that the golden monkey goes through in this fandom is like...yikes.

Look, I know we're all hung up about the bloody murder thing.

(Personally I'm on the theory that Wukong didn't actually kill Mac, if they were really that close he wouldn't have acted so casual upon their battle after he murdered him, but I digress)

And Wukong should be called out on that BUT.

Mac also isn't blameless here.

(If you like toxic shadowpeach, fine. But this is for peeps who think that Wukong is the only toxic one and Mac was just a victim.)

Take it from this perspective:

The two were really close during the brotherhood era. Wukong kept doing stupid things to gain power and getting them in trouble and in the final battle did something astronomically stupid and they all lost.

Then they all ditch him...leading to his imprisonment (five phases mountain) and torture (furnace and also being fed iron pellets and hot mercury)

Fair, Mac probably shouldn't have been trapped too but he visited once out of 500 years, had a fight and never came back by the looks of it.

He assigns himself the role of the warrior who always stood by his king's side.

And then ditched him in his time of need.

Mans really failed at his own self proclaimed job.

Fine, he probably should've taken a break, none of them were in the right state of mind and Wukong was being very bratty.

BUT

IF HE TRULY VALUED THEIR RELATIONSHIP (from the looks of his lil gay play, he did) HE WOULD'VE Y'KNOW. COME BACK AND TALK?!?!

If he really valued their relationship, outside of calling him a coward and LEAVING, never to visit again. Would that not be a perfect opportunity to communicate?

Like, my dude. He's stuck in the rock. He can't run. Could you not find the roots of the problem and solved it?

But lets say "He was too busy taking care of flower fruit mountain"

(despite him literally EATING one of the monkeys in JTTW, but that was JTTW and I don't think its canon in Lmk. But still, interesting to note.)

I'm sure his subjects were worried about their king? Did he never answer them? If he really valued their bond, could he not have I dunno, shadow portaled some monkeys to see their king or like put time aside to communicate and update the monkeys?

But lets say "He was too traumatized from the burning of his home and was too angry"

500 gosh dang years seems like a long time to take a break.

I feel like at that point, he should've let go of Wukong

BUT NOOOO HE DOESN'T NOW DOES HE.

We establish that their relationship is kinda wrecked.

They don't communicate.

He ditched Wukong for 500 years.

But when he see's the pilgrims decides that Wukong ditched him and the brotherhood..?

So by his logic, Wukong has abandoned ffm the brotherhood and him, after they ditched him under a mountain for 500 years, never visited, never talked, never tried to rebuild their relationship.

Sees the circlet being used, sees the pilgrims not trusting him, sees him go on this journey unwillingly, not allowed to leave the monk unprotected, and comes to the conclusion that Wukong is a traitor...?

But plans to free him because he's being abused and forced to do it?

Pick a lane my dude. Did he abandon you or not?

BUT THEN.

He impersonates him, destroys what little trust the group had

WHILE TRIPITAKA STILL HAD EASY ACCESS TO THE FILLET MIND YOU

hurts Wukong multiple times, till he gets banished. And tries to kill Tripitaka as he still had the bloody circlet?!

This isn't sad lover getting revenge at being abandoned.

This is bitter jealous ex getting petty revenge and still expecting to get back together like this.

Also he says he watched as the pilgrims tortured him with the fillet. If he watched them, he'd know that Wukong is also obligated to fight and most of the time he does kill them, despite the pacifist monk.

He's required to PROTECT THE MONK AT ALL COST.

So tell me...

WHAT THE HELL WAS HIS PLAN?!

He does realize that like this was mandated by heaven right? And there'd be huge consequences to killing the monk right?

So basically:

Mac: yea so my plan is to impersonate you and commit crimes you didn't do, get you in trouble and inadvertently hurt you severely, traumatize you even more then kill the monk so we can go back to flower fruit mountain like we wanted to right?

Even though there will probably be astronomical consequences for you, me probably the rest of the monkeys for letting me kill this monk on the trip mandated by heaven. By failing to protect him, redeeming yourself and also losing a close friend heaven might probably put you under another mountain again probably forever this time, and I will probably use my powers to get out scotch free and we'd all blame you even though I killed him.

But you're still to blame for abandoning me, the brotherhood and your subjects even though I never visited you after our fight, calling you a coward, immediately leaving never to come back and update you on what happened. Its your fault the mountain is like this even though I never asked you for help or advice or even contacted you to let you know our home was destroyed.

Meanwhile I'm the victim and you never valued our friendship.

.

.

.

This idiot-

In summary, he abandons his king, accused him for ditching them all comes back claiming to help him by antagonizing him, hurting him and puts himself in a position where he kinda has to do something?

Because Mac was set on killing the monk.

Everyone acts like he just visited, said something mean and Wukong played the stab game bit too hard.

But he tried to kill him and wouldn't back off?

Seriously what did he expect Wukong to do?

The fandom acts like he was given a pass to not die when he's already broken off the relationship and put Wukong in an impossible situation where Mac wouldn't freaking leave or let go about killing the monk.

I'm not saying that Wukong should've killed Mac on the spot. But I just wish that everyone stops acting like he was being such an asshole and killing him out of nowhere.

(for someone with six ears and is meant to be all hearing he sure is bad at listening)

Then he gets revived by the lady bone demon and let me check:

steals all of Mk's powers

tries to kill the kid despite having no bad blood with him

antagonizes Tang, ridiculing him and calling Wukong a coward despite ditching him under a mountain

makes a copy of the TEA van to kidnap and traumatize Mk even more

Traumatizes Mk AGAIN in the shadow play and steals his friends souls

Hold Mei and Sandy hostage for the rings and tries to squeeze the life out of them

Shooting the airship down (OOOHHHH WUUUKOOOONG this ape is down bad.)

Chokes Mei and uses her as a hostage again for the samadhi fire ritual

Immediately leaves after Mei's firey outburst

Wants to leave possessed Wukong to the clutches of LBD

never gives Mk the full story in the ink scroll that he tried to kill Sanzang or how he never came back.

NEVER APOLOGIZES

I don't even think Macaque has apologized for any of his bullsh!t.

Some of his acts were necessary but he just makes it uneccessarily cruel and revels in their pain

And the fandom makes them all buddy buddy at the end, excuse all his actions and collectively hate Wukong?

Yes he does help Mk in fighting possessed Wukong but like LBD's reign would end the world as he knew it. What else could he do? DBK would probably do it in his position.

But he never apologizes to any of the cast.

I've seen fics where he does apologize which is good.

But he also never apologizes to monkey king?

But that will be in pt2. Yes there will be a goddamn pt2 cause I've not even scratched the surface when it comes to fanfics.

But I will take this chance to share a fic that does tackle this issue really well:

Fractured Pieces make a mosaic by @furornocturna

Cause this fic is genuinely so good I am vibrating at the seams, its one of my favs (also furornoctura's writing is good in general)

One of the only fics I've seen where the characters all call out Mac being a jackass and in an interesting way.

One day I will make some fanart for this but till then this will do

Their writing is so yummy go check it out

#just a drabble #lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk macaque #liu er mihou #lmk wukong #lmk wukong deserves better #lmk shadowpeach #shadowpeach #macaque slander #sun wukong #the hero and the warrior were like the sun and the moon #but the warrior was being an *sshole #and no one ever calls him out #so i will #its almost midnight #but my rage fuels me #I still like macaque he's a good character #he just sometimes sucks ass man #i will die on this hill

[devastatinglygreen]

Okay so now do what you think will happen after Colin finds out about Lady Whistledown. 🙏

so i sat on this for a little bit because i didn't really know how to answer it but i was chatting with @gleefullypolin, while totally not talking about polin nonstop, no. talking very normally i assure you.

i'm going to put the rest under the cut because it might have spoilers or speculation that people don't want to see:

alright so we know when colin finds out about LW, right? and we know they have a fight. a big one. obviously.

i think colin has to have a regression of his character. he's only been vulnerable around one person so far this season. penelope. and he loves and adores her and she's going betray (hello eros and psyche!) his trust.

there is no love without trust.

there's something very interesting we noticed while chatting about colin and his bro friends. they've been there each time he makes a choice about penelope.

the first ball, he chooses her over them after they're like, "the featherington girl? why concern yourself with her?" but then he tries to take it somewhere private and she checks him hard and cracked his armor. she was not impressed with that version of him and he knew it.

and he definitely will when he learns she's LW if he wasn't aware before

when he's not near them, he chooses her without thinking about it, he runs out after her at a ball when gossip about them is pretty much being said to their faces. even at the first brothel scene, he tells them he's late but then we see him at the market waiting for penelope. this man is a fake and a liar and we see him, we know what he's about. nerd.

in episode 3, he's with them at the balloon thing and they're messing with him about helping penelope and he's so dumb because he's like "i'm done with all of that. it's good to back" all cocky and lame like he wasn't just eating the same cupcake thing she did and staring at her. i was a dramatic teenage girl who once had a crush on a guy who i only saw at lunch and never knew his name and even i wasn't down that bad. good lord. embarrassing.

not really i love it, i love him so much

but he picks penelope over them again when he runs off to save her from the big mean hot air balloon.

we see them again in episode 4, at the library while he watches penelope through a mirror. because that's definitely not crying, screaming, throwing up behavior. they invite him out. for revelry. regency bro speak for possible syphilis and liver disease, it's fine.

he can't get down with his ladies of choice because he's knee deep in wishing he was balls deep in penelope instead. he stares at a wall. they manage to make us feel bad for a man sitting in a brothel. amazing.

we see them at mondrich's. they're talking about girls they probably didn't actually sleep with. oh sure, totally buy that you had access to a woman for 6 months straight. you bet, my guy, totally believable. colin is unhappy. he's like don't you ever want to have a feeling? they're like, no, i just feel the syphilis. it burns, bridgerton. we need antibiotics.

antibiotics won't be a thing for like another 100 years give or take good luck i guess

but he stays and drinks. he's picked penelope but he can't have penelope at this moment. he's in bed laying there waiting to sleep. or die. idk. he's a bridgerton, they're dramatic.

he sees them one last time in episode 4. they stop him. they're dicks. rude to will on top of it? pls. they invite him out and he says no. he's picked penelope once more but he doesn't say anything but "excuse me" and pushes through. they don't push back. they're like, fine. more chronic liver failure and fake stories for us, bro.

he finds penelope. causes a huge social upset that no one pays attention to because he's too busy ragging on debling for having the audacity to leave penelope for years. which is fair. colin would never.

chases penelope. catches her. not quite balls deep but knuckles deep at minimum, let's be real.

which, i am very sorry for this being this long at this point, is why i think we could see his "friends" again before the end. he's going to go through something world shaking and they're always there when he's making a choice but i think what's important to note is that he always makes the right one, he always picks penelope. i think he's not fully dropped that armor and it's easy to slip back into someone pretending not to care, especially when you're hurting. he's got to reject the man society wants him to be and, essentially, be the man penelope needs him to be. she's his purpose.

eta: colin loves to be penelope's hero. i think he's going to feel that pull over whatever else is going on.

i'm just saying it's a mirror of how penelope needs to reconcile how she's both penelope and lady whistledown. they both need to come to terms with who they want to be moving forward. symbolism or some shit.

or i'm totally wrong and all those words above mean nothing. either way i got to avoid folding laundry. time well spent if you ask me.

#asks #anon #polin #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton speculation #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin's douche friends

[mysilaan]

Hi!! Could I request some headcanons for Thomas (MCL NG), when he starts falling in love with Candy/Ysaline? 💕 Thank you

I had a hard time imagining it ‘cause… I DON’T KNOW ??? So I just decided to write some kind of ‘chapter 2’ of my last Thomas headcanon ⭐

(note : if you want to read the part.1, there's a "mcl ng headcanons" category on my blog to find it more easily)

__

THOMAS MCL NG HEADCANON PART.2 🍒

⭐

As promised, after a long day at work, Thomas was waiting for you in order to give you a ride on his motorbike. You had to admit that you spent most of the day thinking about this long-awaited evening. You joined your colleague at the exit and greeted him with your best smile. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.” you asked. “It’s okay.” You were now used to Thomas' way of ‘making conversation’; you remembered how impolite you found him when you first joined Devenmentiel, but you eventually ended up understanding that it was not in his intention to be rude: it was just the way Thomas was. When you finally reached his motorcycle, he opened the trunk and handed you a black helmet as he put his on. You thanked him and put it on your head properly… or you thought so… Thomas’ hands approached your face without any warning. You stepped back a little, startled at first, but accepted it when you realized he just wanted to tighten the straps correctly. “Oh… Thank you.” The moment was a bit awkward as Thomas scrutinized your face to see if your helmet was on properly without saying anything. “We’re good.” he finally said. He hopped on his bike and gestured for you to do the same. You slid behind him and put your hands around his waist, which made him tense up a little. “Sorry! Do you want me to put my hands somewhere else?” “No, it’s fine… Which restaurant did you choose to go to?” “Oh, right !” You almost forgot to give him the address. Once you did, you both were ready to ride through the city. Feeling the motorcycle growl beneath you was absolutely thrilling, and as you finally started moving, the adrenaline filled your head. Thomas wasn’t riding too fast, considering he had a passenger, but he was still going at a thrilling speed to your delight. It wasn’t the first time you were riding a motorbike with someone, but the sensation was always the same: it was liberating and immensely soothing. You were even slightly disappointed when you parked up in front of the restaurant. As the two of you took off your helmets, Thomas was about to ask you what you thought about the ride, but seeing your ear-to-ear smile was answer enough. He smiled to himself, satisfied that you liked it, which you decided to express verbally anyway. “It was insane! I absolutely loved the sensation! I’m tempted to get my license and buy one myself now…” “Why don’t you?” he asked honestly as you were heading in the restaurant. “Uhh... Lack of time? Or will… I don’t really know. It's something I always wanted to do but never had the courage to. Watching other people is cool, but once I'm in control, I find it pretty terrifying... Same for cars, that’s why I still take the bus,” you laughed.

The conversation paused as a waiter led you to your table and gave you the menu, but Thomas continued it anyway. “I understand it seems scary, but at the beginning, you have instructors all around you. Once you understand how it works, it's easy to trust yourself.” “Yeah, I know… But the hardest part with these things is taking the first step.” Thomas simply nodded, his eyes were fixed on an invisible point, he was deeply thinking about something but his attention quickly went back to you. During the dinner, you had the chance to talk about things other than work with Thomas. It was mainly about motorcycles at first, but the subject ended up drifting away, and you found more interests in common to talk about. You listened to him talk about his passion for hacking things, with that rare spark in his eyes that always appeared when he talked about something he liked. In return, he listened to you talk about your hobbies with genuine interest. It felt nice having someone listen to you without being judgmental. You left the restaurant, knowing a little more about each other and wanting to know even more. It was a strange feeling, as if your mind were connected at that moment and that, without talking, you were telling the other that this won't be the last time you’d go out together. Something even scraped the back of your mind. Could you consider this a date? But you chased away the thought, blushing a little, hoping that the red-haired man beside you didn’t notice. When you approached the motorcycle again, Thomas didn’t get on immediately. “Hey, would you like to try riding it?” You thought you didn’t hear well. “What?” “You said you were hesitant to get one yourself. If you’d like to try and see how it feels, you can. I’ll still help with the controls, of course; I wouldn’t want you to wreck my bike.” Was it okay for you to accept? But before you could weigh the pros and cons, you nodded and approached the bike. “Your helmet.” Thomas reminded you before doing anything. You put it on, the right way this time, and hoped on the bike once again, but on the pilot seat this time. It felt so weird… Thomas sat behind you, leaning on you a bit to show you the commands. “Here you have the brake lever, and you press here to start the bike: it’s the starter pedal.” You listened intently to his instructions and looked up at the nearly empty parking lot in front of you. All you had to do was to go straight ahead, with Thomas’ help on top of that, but you were so scared to mess it up. “Keep your hands firmly on the handlebars, and like when you learn to ride a bicycle, watch straight ahead.”

His voice was calm as always, yet firm. He was really involved in his improvised role as motorcycle instructor. He continued to explain to you many other things, and you suddenly became aware of how close your bodies were, he was almost leaning over you, but wasn’t even noticing.  “Are you listening?” “Yes! Yes… sorry, I am… I’m just a little nervous.” “There’s no need, I’ll make the most of it, just try to hold the handlebar well.” “Alright.” You firmly grabbed the handlebars as if your life depended on it (which it did, in a way), and it felt like you were back in your younger days, learning to balance on a bicycle, except this one had a motor. You startled a little when Thomas’ hands wrapped yours, for safety reasons… “Let’s go.” he finally said, making the vehicle move forward. You weren’t going fast at all, but it was already quite hard to maintain the handlebar still and go straight ahead without damaging anything; thankfully, Thomas’ strong grip over yours helped to avoid any unnecessary accident. When he braked the motorcycle after a few meters, you let out a relieved sigh.  “Wow… It’s definitely harder than it seems. It was great though!” You couldn’t see Thomas’ face behind you, but you could swear you felt him chuckle a little against your back. “I can’t say you did well but I hoped it gave you the will to learn now.” “Thank God I know you… If it had been me before, I would never set foot on a motorcycle again!” you joked. “Sorry.” Thomas was sorry? Now that was unusual. “I was just joking, don’t worry!” He didn’t answer, but knowing him, he probably just nodded. You got off the bike to give Thomas his place back, and took yours behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist one more time. The ride back to your house was as thrilling as the one to the restaurant, but the mood had changed a bit. The air around you was chilly, yet you couldn’t help but feel warm against Thomas. Despite the city being filled with motor and honking noises, you were in your own bubble, shared with the man in front of you, shutting out any noise coming from outside. It felt like you were on a different planet. Letting him go of your embrace made you cold all of sudden, a shiver ran down your spine, but you had to accept that it was the end of your little trip. You handed back his helmet to Thomas, and offered him a sincere, gratifying smile. “Thank you for tonight… You didn’t have to do all that, but I’m thankful you did.” When you said that, something changed in Thomas' attitude but you couldn’t say exactly what. “You’re welcome. It was… nice?” You chuckled softly, knowing it was the best he could express his feelings. “Yeah, it was nice.” you repeated “Get home safe, thank you again. I’ll see you tomorrow!” You waved him off and headed home.As you searched for the right key to unlock your door, Thomas waited silently without moving. He was thinking that he’d like having other moments like this with you. He liked your presence and talking about anything with you. It really felt nice, but he couldn’t say why. When you finally opened your door and waved one last time at him, he watched you close your door, thinking that he was really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.

#mcl new gen #amour sucre #my candy love #mcl ng #mclng #mcl thomas #mclng thomas #mcl new gen thomas #thomas rheault #my candy love new gen #corazon de melon #my candy love new gen thomas #amour sucré new gen #beemoov #mcl ng fanfiction #candy x thomas #my writing #writing #mysilaan mcl ng headcanons #mysilaan headcanons #mcl new gen headcanons

[coopigeoncoo]

Meat Cute, Chapter 5

Chapter Links: First, Previous <- Chapter 5 ->Next

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (rating may change)

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing

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In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour!

---

“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

–--

A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!

Most days, Charlie's incessant prattling amused Alastor.  It was one of the few traits they both shared after all; the ability to pick up the threads of dropped conversations and weave them into something new.  Usually a pithy quip on his part while Charlie would provide some long-winded tirade about friendship and optimism; nonsensical sorts of things that Alastor didn’t spare much thought towards. 

Generally, it was an effortless feat for Alastor to redirect Charlie's attention and energy onto something or someone else; goodness knows that the residents of their hotel could generously be described as an absolute mess most of the time.  There was always some sort of disaster brewing that the little Princess couldn't help but insert herself into.  A lovers tiff here, a genocide there, another new guest with an uninspired tale of woe that required comfort and a supportive embrace or two.

But there was a stubborn streak in Charlie today that kept her focus fully on the Overlord.  And while he usually never shied away from being the center of attention, Alastor had to admit that he was beginning to grow increasingly weary of her present line of questioning.

“-so what do you think?  Are you willing to give it a shot?”  Charlie asked, her entire body practically quivering in anticipation for his answer.  

“Hmm?  I'm sorry, I must have drifted off for a moment there. What were you saying?” Alastor apologized, his eyes alight with false sincerity.  

“Oh, come on!  There was no way you tuned out that entire musical number!” Charlie groaned in frustration.  “I hit like, three super high notes!  There was confetti-”

“I was dancin’,” a passing sanitation worker interjected, unceremoniously dumping a bin full of used hypodermic needles into the back of an idling trash truck.  

“-the garbageman was dancing, Alastor!”

“I’m sure it was a most spectacular sight!” Alastor assured him.

“Damn right it was,” the garbage man grumbled under his breath as he hefted a heavily stained mattress into his arms.  

“Okay, just- ugh! ” Charlie sighed, dragging a hand down her face in exasperation. “Forget the song-”

“Way ahead of you, my dear!” Alastor grinned, spinning his staff merrily as he set off down the sidewalk, Charlie quickly catching up despite his longer stride.  

“I'm just worried, Alastor.  You haven't really made any effort to open up to anyone at the hotel.”

“Haven't you ever heard the saying about mixing business and pleasure?  I'm merely maintaining a professional demeanor.  I would hate for the sterling reputation of our fine establishment to be tarnished by unprofessionalism!” Alastor explained, wiggling his fingers at a passing sinner who cowered under the oppressive weight of Alastor's fleeting glance.

“See, this is exactly what I mean!” Charlie shouted, frantically waving at all the pedestrians ducking down alleys and darting recklessly into oncoming traffic to avoid having to cross paths with the Radio Demon.  “People are afraid of you, Alastor.”

“As well they should be!  I am an Overlord after all, my dear.  Being terrifying is part of the job description.”

“Yes, I know that!  But the problem is that everyone is afraid of you.”

“Are they now?  I guess most people must be smarter than they look!” Alastor laughed in delight as Charlie's consternation grew. 

“I'm being serious here!  Even the people at the hotel are still…uncomfortable with you,” Charlie offered diplomatically.  “Which isn't what the hotel is supposed to be about.  It's supposed to be a place of friendship and comradery- where people can feel safe enough to open up and be vulnerable.”

Charlie paused in her explanation to gesture to the palpable air of malevolence that radiated from her hotelier.

“And you come off as everything but safe.”

“Oh, stop it!  You're making me blush!” Alastor cooed, lifting a coy hand to cradle his pale cheek.  

“Alastor,” Charlie sighed, quickly shuffling around him on the sidewalk so she could place herself directly in his path, forcing him to come to an abrupt halt and look into her pleading eyes.  “Please.  I need the hotel to be a success.  And I think that's what you want, too.  For whatever reason.”

Alastor was quiet as he examined the determined jut of Charlie's chin, his head tilting slightly to the side in consideration.  “What exactly is it that you require of me?”

“To be friendly.  To honestly try and connect with someone.”

“Shall I braid your hair then?  Gossip with the Effeminate Fellow about boys? ”

“Those are both great ideas!  But they…don't really seem like your thing,” Charlie hesitantly admitted.  “Why don't you start out with something you're good at?”

“Torture?” 

“Talking.”

“If you insist,” Alastor sighed.  “But my suggestion would be considerably more entertaining.”

“Hey, you never know where a good conversation might lead!  Just look at me and Vaggie!,” the Princess chirped excitedly, her eyes sparkling in delight at the mere thought of her taciturn partner. “She would barely say two words to me when we met and now we tell each other everything!”

“Ahhh,” Alastor narrowed his eyes in suspicion.  “Is that your angle?  To find me a partner?  A paramour?  To try to soften me up with affection? ”

“What?  No, that's not it at all!” Charlie rushed to assure him, her hands flapping wildly in front of her body as though she could physically waft away the misunderstanding.  “I mean, it would be great if you could find someone like that, you know, if- if you wanted to!  It's nice to have someone to care about- to care about you , in that way.”

“Please, do elaborate,” Alastor said, gesturing in front of himself with an exaggerated wave of his hand, encouraging Charlie to continue down the hopelessly cracked and pitted sidewalk towards Cannibal Town. 

“Oh- uhhh,” Charlie sputtered, stumbling over her own legs slightly as she moved to fall into step beside Alastor, her fingers nervously twiddling around each other as she struggled to find the words to explain herself.  “Partners are, well- it's sort of like being friends, but more?  Better, I guess?  You talk with them and spend time with them like friends, but they just-”

Charlie paused, heaving in a deep sigh as she imagined her girlfriend in her mind's eye, and tried to verbalize all the wonderful feelings that Vaggie cultivated in her heart.

“When you see someone you love, your day just instantly brightens.  You get excited thinking about the next time you see them- it feels like a bunch of moths are fluttering around inside of your belly.”

Alastor's upper lip curled up in revulsion.  “And that's a desirable feeling?  Intestinal insects?”

“Well, not when you put it that way,” Charlie huffed, crossing her arms across her chest in frustration.  “It's something you can't really explain unless you've experienced it.”

Alastor was unusually quiet, the ambient humming that surrounded him barely audible as they continued on their way.  For a moment, Charlie worried that she had maybe gone too far; that she had drawn an exclusive circle around herself and her experiences that painted Alastor as even more of an outsider than he already was.  An apology sat perched on her tongue, ready to assure him that it was okay to never have felt these things, when Alastor spoke up.  

“It doesn’t feel like fluttering ,” Alastor drawled, his free hand pressed against his abdomen pensively.  “It’s more akin to a gnawing sensation.”  

“Wait- ,” Charlie gasped, quickly sucking in a lungful of the humid Hellish air.  “Alastor, is there- is there someone you have feelings for?”

“Upon reflection I do believe there might be, based on your exceptionally vivid description of the experience,” Alastor informed her with an excited grin, pushing open the reinforced glass door of a building and ushering Charlie over the threshold ahead of him with a courteous incline of his head.  

“Ooooohhhhh, Alastor!” Charlie squealed, bouncing on her toes in barely suppressed jubilation as she queued up in the short line in front of the register.  “Who is it?  How long have you known them? Can I meet them?  Do you think they like you back?  Wait- that's too many questions!  I'm sorry!  But I'm just so excited for you!”

“It's fine, my dear!  Perfectly understandable,” Alastor reassured her with an indulgent laugh.  “And of course you can meet them, if that's what you'd like.”

“YES! ” Charlie yelled, only realizing how loud she was once all the numerous eyes of both the customers and the walls of the store quickly shifted their focus onto her.  She coughed into her fist and straightened her lapels in embarrassment as she waited for the other customers to lose interest and turn away. “I mean- that is to say, it would be lovely to meet them at your earliest convenience.”

“But of course!” Alastor agreed readily as he stepped with Charlie to the front of the line.  “Here she comes now!”

“Now?” Charlie squawked, spinning around frantically in quick circles to try and catch a glimpse of who in the store Alastor might be referring to.

“Here you are, Alastor, Sir,” you announced with a nervous grin, sliding a large, paper-wrapped parcel across the counter.  “One whole venison round, as requested.”

“Thank you, my dear!” Alastor said as he took hold of the meat, vanishing it to locations unknown with a quick snap of his fingers.  “I was wondering if I might trouble you for a moment longer, though?”

Sweat immediately began to gather at your hairline as you tried to swallow down the bile creeping up your throat.  “Is- is there a problem with your order?”

“No, no, nothing like that!” Alastor assured you with a sharp grin that did little to settle your nerves.  “It has recently been brought to my attention that I am enamored with you.”

All sounds inside the butcher shop abruptly halted, like the entire store had been sucked into a vacuum; customer's jaws hanging slack in shock at the unexpected confession. 

“You're what?” You squeak in obvious distress, casting pleading glances at your coworkers who were quietly peeking in  through a slim crack through the backroom door, eager to spy on the unfolding drama.

“Enamored, my dear!  Beguiled!  Infatuated!  Smitten, if you will.”

“You… like me?” You muttered dumbly as your brain struggled to process the bizarre scene you had found yourself thrust into the middle of.  

“Apparently!” Alastor laughed, reaching behind himself to tug his companion to his side.  “See, I was chatting with my associate here, Charlie, the Princess of Hell-”

“Your Grace,” you croak dryly, dropping into what was hopefully a passable curtsy.

“Hey, uh- nice to meet you!” Charlie greeted with a stiff wave and an even stiffer smile. 

“-and she made me realize what my true feelings for you were!  How you make my day better, how I look forward to the next time I see you, how you make my stomach rumble, ” Alastor growled lowly, his already towering form seeming to elongate as he loomed over you.

“...It ah- it sounds like maybe you're just… hungry whenever you see me?”

“Perhaps!” Alastor cackled, his staticy laugh even more distorted up close.  “But one man's passion is another man's hunger, as they say!”

“Do they say that?  Is that a thing people say?! ” You whispered manically towards Charlie, her shoulders jumping up towards her ears in a helpless shrug.

“Gastrointestinal palpitations aside, you can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow, his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place; afraid that any sudden movement might somehow cause him to pounce. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

“RIGHT , okay!” Charlie interrupted with a nervous laugh, slamming a handful of bills down onto the counter as she managed to mercifully push herself between the Radio Demon and the meat counter.  “So sorry, but we have to go- there's important hotel business we need to get back to!  It was lovely meeting you, have a nice day, BYE!”

You were still staring at the door minutes after Charlie had frantically pulled Alastor out of the store, only snapping out of your daze when your manager shuffled up beside you, nose buried in the employee handbook.  

“I've triple checked and experiencing sudden romantic overtones isn't grounds for taking personal leave,” he explained, pointing to the exact passage in the well-worn guide.  “You're gonna’ have to finish out your shift.”

“Of course,” you replied distantly, unable to meaningfully focus on anything other than your racing thoughts and the strange, muffled ringing in your ears.  “What about if I pass out?”

“Says here you'll get a fifteen minute break and a strong cup of tea.”

“Better put the kettle on then,” you mumbled as your knees buckled, vision going black as you plummeted towards the floor.  Your manager looked down at your crumpled body and sighed, nudging you out of the way with his foot and stepping up to the register.  

“Next in line!”

#alastor x y/n #alastor x female reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #pigeoncoos🕊 #hazbin hotel x female reader

[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

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#gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #vampire gojo #vampire #tw: loss of virginity #tw: yandere #jujustu kaisen #gojo x you #bree's fics!

[jimingyue]

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🖋️ meowful-musings Follow

🕊️ birdwatching Follow

what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine

💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204

op wheres the natural feeding option

🌲 outdoorsy Follow

you guys are getting fed?

#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look

7,192 notes

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3

🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow

as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3

#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....

154,688 notes

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right

❤️ loving-paws284 Follow

um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...

🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow

OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD

🐟 tunafeesh Follow

also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks

anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse

#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now

32,456 notes

🍃 naturalliving Follow

BORN TO DIE

WORLD IS A FUCK

猫神 Kill Em All 1989

I am trash cat

410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS

#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly

48,971 notes

🎣 salmonpurina Follow

can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther

#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks

34 notes

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!

🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow

evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

make your own pawst

💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721

umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...

👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow

Nyaverage shelter cat behavior

#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up

545,460 notes

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo

💡 discourse-meows Follow

hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

1. i was making. a joak

2. i'm literally gay???

#literally what's your pawblem

7 notes

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

i know you fuckers are lying

🍭 gaykittens Follow

this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

shut the heull up

988,653 notes

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise

🐁 ladymouser Follow

op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us

#long post #cat #fake dashboard #unreality #dashboard simulator