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#and I will find every way under the sun to get it
suashii · 3 days
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— 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓊𝓃 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 1.3k wc. ノ sfw ノ fluff ノ non-canon compliant ノ farmhand!boothill ノ flirty teasing ノ pet names ( sweetheart :3 ) ノ mentions of food
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boothill is usually making his way back to the house by now, but you don’t hear the click of the door opening to announce his arrival or the sound of him kicking off his boots at the entryway. his schedule has become familiar to you as you’ve established one of your own and you’ve taken note of how he always strolls in around lunchtime. you’ve taken note of other things, too, like his big appetite, how he eats whatever you cook without complaint, and the way he never fails to thank you for the meal.
his flattery when it comes to your cooking skills knows no bounds and consistently earns eye rolls on your end but it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his gentlemanly qualities.
lunch is just about ready and the farmhand is nowhere in sight. you turn to your grandpa who’s sitting at the table as you wipe your hands on the dish towel. “did boothill go out?”
his focus shifts from his half-finished crossword puzzle to you. “not that i know of. he’s probably just finishing up.”
he’s right, the man could be in any minute for all you know. but something feels wrong about setting the table and starting to eat without him. as much as he grates on your nerves and makes you feel feelings you’d much rather bury, you’ve grown used to three people sitting around the table. the next words that push past your lips make you wonder if you’re truly the one to speak them.
“i’ll just let him know the food is ready.”
your grandpa hums in acknowledgment, letting you slip past the sliding doors without protest.
the heat of the air hits you immediately and you close the door behind you quickly to be sure it doesn’t warm up the kitchen. the long-sleeved blouse you put on this morning suddenly feels excessive as you traverse the grounds in search of boothill.
it’s not as easy to find him as it has been in the past and you’re beginning to think that he did leave but the fact just slipped your grandpa’s mind. you’re nearing the edge of the property when you consider dropping the manhunt and returning to the house. maybe boothill won’t mind if you set aside his plate for later with a little note explaining that you couldn’t find him.
the moment you think about turning around, something catches your eye. there’s something propped up on the post of the split rail fence. you squint your eyes to get a better look only to realize it’s not something, it’s someone—boothill.
he’s sitting up with his back against the post and his feet stretched to the next—they’re crossed at the ankle. his arms are crossed, too, resting comfortably on his stomach. the hat that’s usually situated atop his head is tipped down to shield his face from the sun’s harsh, bright rays.
you’re unsure if he’s awake or not so you approach him quietly, light steps carrying you closer to the man. the wind catches his hair, blowing unbound black and white strands in rhythm with the breeze. your newfound proximity offers you a better glimpse at the man, namely his exposed chest that you didn’t take notice of a few seconds ago. his shirt is unbuttoned nearly to where it’s tucked into his jeans, leaving smooth, glistening skin on display. even the addition of a denim vest over the white button-up isn’t enough to hide his tanned skin and the beads of sweat forming on it.
you catch yourself staring and shake your head before turning it up to look at the clouds. the blue sky and fluffy spots of white are a pretty sight but the picturesque scene does nothing to help you get the image of boothill’s toned abdomen out of your head. you fear it’s stuck to your eyelids, haunting you every time you dare to blink.
how are you going to look at him across the table without imagining what’s under his shirt now?
the thought reminds you of why you came out here in the first place—you’re supposed to be bringing him inside for lunch. you’re sure he’s asleep by now—he most definitely would have felt your greedy gaze on him if he weren’t—but you’re willing to stir him from his nap if it means getting him out of this summer heat (and getting him to cover up).
you cautiously reach out to take his hat in your hand, lifting the accessory away from his face. you’re not sure how the sudden introduction of light doesn’t bother him but he remains still like you never disturbed him at all.
his resting expression is different from the others you’ve seen paint his face. there’s no crease between his eyebrows like there is when he’s working hard, no curl to his lips like when he’s got a teasing remark on his tongue. he simply looks peaceful, calm, unbothered. pretty, you have to stop yourself from saying aloud.
and it’s all ruined in a moment.
“see somethin’ you like, sweetheart?” his eyes don’t open but the little smirk you so often find him wearing has made itself comfortable on his lips. you take a startled step back—you were sure he had nodded off. how long has he been awake? does he know you were staring?
the lack of an answer from you leads boothill to open his eyes, though they squint almost instantly upon being met with the brightness of the sun. although, that doesn’t stop him from meeting your eye and holding your gaze.
you disregard his question and keep your eyes on his face, not risking letting your gaze fall below his neck. “if you’re tired, you should go sleep in the house. it’s way too hot to nap out here.”
his eyebrows raise ever-so-slightly at your suggestion, smile unwavering. conversely, yours furrow at the change in his expression—nothing good can come of it. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you’re worried about me.”
you press your lips together. is that what led you out here—your worry about him missing a meal? worry doesn’t feel like the right word… you simply want to adhere to your routine which, whether you like it or not, now includes boothill. that’s that, worry is out of the question.
“i’m not worried,” you tell him, clenching your fists as if that’ll help you convince yourself. it’s only then that you realize you’re still holding his hat. you look down at it in your hand and suddenly your palm and the tips of your fingers feel hot, like that hat is a scorching fire that’s burning you. you quickly toss the accessory into the man’s lap. “i only came out here to tell you lunch is ready.”
having gotten your job done, you turn on your heel and start back towards the house. you only make it a few steps before boothill is coming up beside you, his steps falling into rhythm with yours. it’s a mistake to glance his way as he hasn’t bothered buttoning up his shirt and his hands are stuffed in his pockets like he had no intention of doing so.
you're not so lucky to go unnoticed this time and it would be unlike boothill not to comment on your wandering eyes. “what? like my outfit that much?”
you silently scold yourself for staring, eye flitting away from him. “it’s fine.”
“oh? somethin’ else catch your eye, then?” he asks, and you can hear the humor in his voice. “maybe it’s my—”
“oh my god!” your hands fly up to cover your ears and they’re hot to the touch. “shush!”
despite the barrier, you can still hear his hearty chuckle that comes at your expense. 
the thought comes far too late but you realize you would have been much better off leaving him to bake in the sun, never making the effort to call him in at all. because now, even after you’ve made it through lunch, washed the dishes, and are back in the comfort of your bedroom, you’re still going to be thinking about the farmhand and his annoyingly perfect abs.
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thanks for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated ❤︎
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euthymiya · 2 days
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help me forget (until my only memories are you) ft. wriothesley
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in which wriothesley is plagued with dreams of his past, tucked away in the quietest corner of the fortress until you find him. a thermos of tea, an ocean view, and a heartfelt conversation later, you both decide your memories only matter when they’re of each other
contains: 2.1k word count ; female reader ; established relationship ; hints at wriothesley’s backstory, including mentions of blood and murder ; nightmares and trauma (wrio) ; reverse comfort ; fluff and (cheesy) banter
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“thought i’d find you here,” you say quietly as you walk up to wriothesley—it’s quiet enough that’s it’s almost as if you’re trying not to startle him.
(and yes, it’s a bit of a pointless gesture. you know he can hear your footsteps approaching him for a good distance before you even reach him, but, all things considered, you don’t think a little extra gentleness will hurt him.)
“well, looks like you found me,” he hums, legs spread out before him as he stares through the glass. he’s eyes the ocean, his pupils following the schools of fish and casts of crabs as they swim past the glass tunnel that separates you from the water.
the glass tunnel in the fortress is wriothesley’s favorite spot. for a number of reasons, really—first, the inmates aren’t allowed here without official permission, so he has the area to himself for the most part. second, there’s some sort of sign of life to witness, something breathing and moving apart from the rowdy bunch of prisoners he’s in charge of every day. and third, it’s nice to see colors, something vivid and lively outside of rusted metal and dingy lighting.
wriothesley loves this tunnel. it helps him appreciate his life, his home, when he’s especially regretful he doesn’t get to live up at the surface. that regret doesn’t come very often—he’s happy with the life he’s made for himself and the family he’s grown here, but he’s only human.
sometimes even the warden would like to know what it feels like to wake up under the sun, feeling the rays kiss the skin of his cheeks like a mother does her son, so warm and gentle and endlessly filled with love.
he supposes a mother’s love is as unreachable as the sun for him, a regretful conclusion he’s long come to since the tender age of early teen hood.
you plop down beside him, tucking yourself against his side as you hand him a small thermos, making him quirk a brow up.
“tea,” you explain, “i figured it would help.”
“aren’t you sweet?” he chuckles, unscrewing the top and pouring the warm, freshly brewed tea into the lid as he takes a slow sip. he turns, pressing the rim to your lips, letting you take your own sip before he sighs and wraps an arm around you. “did i wake you?”
“of course,” you huff theatrically, “i was so cold. do you have any idea how cold the fortress gets at night without a big, strong, muscled warden to keep you warm?”
he snorts, eyeing you with an amused glance as you bite back your own grin.
“well, my dear lady, i offer my sincerest apologies. you will never wake up cold again.” he indulges your banter with a tight grin.
wriothesley is good at that—good at pretending his feelings don’t exist, pretending he doesn’t feel them in favor of putting on a brave face. you see through the tiny cracks of his mask, though. you can see the tousled hair and bruised under eyes from his lack of sleep. you can see the sore knuckles of his hands from punching bags. you can see the distant, hazy look in his eyes as he stares off into the never ending sea ahead, not sparing you the usual soft gaze he sends your way.
wriothesley is good at pretending everything is okay. just as good as you are at knowing when it isn’t okay at all.
“i’d rather i don’t wake up alone,” you trace the scar along his chest with a finger, visible from the neckline of the tank top he wears to sleep. he doesn’t say anything, swallowing as he swirls the contents in his makeshift cup, purposefully avoiding your gaze. “wriothesley.”
“i’m sorry,” he mumbles, “i figured i’d let you sleep.”
“you don���t need to apologize,” you furrow your brows, hooking a finger under his chin and gently coaxing him to turn and meet your eyes, “i’m not mad, baby. it’s okay.”
“i know,” is all he says.
“will you talk to me?” your head lays against his chest, grabbing one hand and fiddling with his fingers, lacing them with yours as you compare the size of his rough, rugged palm against yours while his other hand lifts the cup to take a long, slow sip of the tea.
it’s hot against his throat, soothing the raw, dryness that builds.
“don’t i talk to your ear off enough through the day?” he tries to tease, deflecting the topic that you try to breach. but you’re good at following just as he is at running—you bring his knuckles up to your lips as you kiss them one by one, so gentle, so feather like in touch, he can’t help but shiver.
“so you’re tired of talking to me?” you tease back, making his lips twitch fractionally.
“nah,” he breathes a small laugh, “never tired of you.”
“that’s good to know,” you exhale a relieved breath, still playful and lighthearted as you add, “i thought you were running away from me while i slept.”
“i’d have come back.” his voice is low, barely audible—you hear it anyway, feeling the rumble of his words through the vibrations in his chest. “you kick the blanket off. someone’s gotta tuck you in.”
“well you didn’t come back before i had to come find you,” you point out. “so tell me, what’s on that mind of yours? can’t be nothing if you leave me cold and alone in our bed.”
“just a silly old dream,” he shrugs off, laughing dryly as he says, “nothing a tough warden like me can’t handle.”
“oh yeah?” you press gently, leaning up to kiss his jaw with a delicate, warm press of your lips. it makes him swallow thickly, inhaling a shaky breath as he nods.
“yeah.”
“you don’t have to handle it,” you offer carefully, “not alone, at least. you know that, baby?”
“do i look that troubled?” he smiles weakly, but it drops as soon as your hand cups his cheek, pulling him to lean in until his forehead is pressed against yours and his eyes can’t leave their spot of looking directly at you.
“do you trust me?” you whisper. he nods, unable to speak. “i love you, you know.”
“i know,” he croaks. “i love you too.”
“so then talk to me.” your hand falls from his cheek to his chest, laying right on his heart while your other hand squeezes his as it keeps it in its hold.
so he does. with a shaky sigh, he tells you about them, the things he sees in his sleep.
sometimes, wriothesley has dreams. dreams of his mother brushing back his hair with her fingers as she wakes him for breakfast. dreams of his father patting his back as he throws a ball to one of his brothers. dreams of childlike, gleeful laughter ringing through his ears in a muffled, distant sound before it morphs into pained, horrified screams.
his legs carry him down the hallway of his childhood home, bare feet pounding against the hardwood until finally, he turns to corner into his living room. and there he stands—face to face with himself. one version of him in crumpled pajamas and another in oversized, scuffed up clothes like he’s drifted from street to street. he stares at himself, only he notices he looks older, more distant, more tired.
and then he notices the blood. it’s everywhere—on his hands, splattered on his face, dripped onto his clothes, pooled on the floor.
blood is everywhere. it coats the same floors he ran on, stains the same walls his height was marked against. it dirties every happy memory of this house of his, no longer a home.
w-what have you done? he asks his older self.
the boy—the one with his own face—glares down at him, so angry and betrayed, so unlike his happy self as he mutters, what had to be done.
and then he wakes up. he’s always covered in cold sweat, panting, and shuffled far, far away from your peaceful and beautiful sleeping figure. how can he wake you? how can he disrupt your pure, sweet state to wipe the blood spilt on his hands? how can he ask you to carry the heaviness of his sins when you’re so free and weightless from that darkness that plagues someone like him?
you listen as he spills his heart, quiet and unmoving against his side as your palm never leaves his chest. his eyes follow the movement of the fish outside of the glass while he speaks, and your eyes trace over the new red, angry marks on the back of his hand.
“just thought i’d come down here to clear my head,” he confesses, “you looked like you were tired.”
“i’d have woken you,” you admit, looking up at him. he meets your stare, furrowing his brows in confusion until you add, “if i had a bad dream, i mean. because you’re the only place i feel safe.”
he breathes out a soft chuckle, cheek laying on the crown of your head as he whispers, “it’s ’cause of the muscles, right? years of boxing will do that to a guy.”
“so what i’m gathering is that i have to take up boxing for you?” you grin, nudging him with your shoulder playfully as he bites his bottom lip to fight back his grin, shaking his head at your antics.
“i just don’t want to wake you every other night.”
“i want you to wake me every night if you have to,” you frown, reaching over and giving his forehead a reprimanding flick with your fingers, “it’s what i’m here for. what’s the point of being together if you’re going to be all alone, wriothesley?”
“i’m not alone,” he argues, lifting your joined hands before his warm lips press a lingering kiss to the back of an equally as warm hand. “i have you.”
you blink, staring at him blankly. “you just kissed your own hand, you fool.”
“right,” he nods, flushing a slight shade of pink before he twists his wrist to kiss the proper hand, “it was on purpose. it’s self love and all that good stuff, you know?”
“uh huh,” you lift a brow, snorting as you shake your head. he gives you a sly wink, leaning down to kiss your lips briefly as you shuffle closer against his side. “you know,” you breathe against his lips, “sometimes we dream about our pasts because our minds want to change something about them.”
“oh? i suppose i could think of a thing or two to change about mine. maybe a happy childhood. maybe the ability to trust people. that’d be nice, don’t you think?”
“i would change mine,” you admit, making him stare at you for a moment as he ponders over your words.
“would you now? and what would you change?”
“i’d meet you sooner,” you hum, “we could be like the cute stories, you know? childhood friends turned destined lovers. wouldn’t that be sweet?”
he looks at you quietly for a bit—dazed, awed, slightly bewildered. you couldn’t possibly want to know a guy like him in your youth, he thinks. how utterly foolish. but there’s no denying that unbearable, pressured clench of his heart, right where only you can reach to squeeze.
“of all stories,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “that’s what you want for yourself? childhood friends to lovers with a premeditated homicide convict that reforms a prison in his adulthood?”
“a traumatized homicide convict,” you correct, “that’s the part that gives it nuance, you know?”
“oh, you’re right,” he nods sarcastically, “how silly of me.”
“don’t laugh at me,” you huff, pouting at him as you poke his chest, “i’m serious. i’d meet you sooner if i could.”
“me too,” he murmurs, pecking your lips in a wordless apology. you accept with a soft kiss of your own in return. “i’d have met you way sooner too, sweetheart.”
“maybe you’ll dream it some day,” you wink cheekily.
“let’s hope i do,” he laughs, pulling you to sit between his legs, your back to his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs in content. “you’re the only place too, by the way,” he adds after a few moments, breath tickling the shell of your ear as he whispers the words.
“hmm?” you tilt your head in confusion, gasping when his arms wrap tightly around you, his face burying into your neck as he presses a tickling kiss into your skin.
“where i feel safe.”
“oh,” you breathe, smiling slightly in wonder, “good. then you’ll wake me next time?”
“will it keep you warmer in this cold, unforgiving fortress of ours?”
“oh yes,” you nod, giggling lightly. “very warm.”
he smiles into your skin, replacing the vivid images of blood in his mind with the soft hues of your eyes. “then i suppose i have no choice but to wake you.”
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childhood friends to lovers with wrio where reader flips neuvillette off and marches down to the fortress and drags wrio back up to the overworld by the wrist when he’s convicted bc she makes the rules around these parts
jk i love you neuvi my sweet angel dragon
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mx-pastelwriting · 2 days
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Back to you
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(Post-War) Cooper Howard x GN! Reader
Summary: Splitting from the ghoul bounty hunter just for him to appear again, just like last time.
Warnings: Argument, Guns, Held at gunpoint, Blood, Violence, Slight Soft Cooper
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Dragging along through the barren desert, hearing the continuous sound of Cooper's gun hitting his leg, not resting for hours with the sun eating away at your skin, slowly losing your shit only a few feet away from him. 
Finally, your knees gave out, plating you on the ground, the thump drawing the attention of the ghoul, who stopped just to sigh. "Come on, get up," he says flatly, anger bubbling. "I can't" is all you could say with a dry throat. 
"Get up, or I'm leaving ya" He responds more sternly, annoyed at his uncaring tone, snapping back, "Then leave!" watching as he turned around without another word and did just that. 
Cooper knew your limit for more than a year, yet he ignored it, at times leaving you dehydrated or in the heat for days, all from forgetting human needs. Swearing under your breath at times, it was on purpose to always have to rely on him.
Watching as he slowly disappeared in the distance with the sun starting to set, allowing you to get up to find shelter, parting your ways with the ghoul. Having fought a few days before over a deal gone wrong, blaming you of course, but swearing his gun went off first. The fight being one of many breaking points. 
Coming upon a still-standing house, making your way in ready to shoot at anything that moved, luckily only a few radroaches sprang up, leaving you to relax. The house looked as if it was trapped in time, as if not one person had been in it since. Shaking off that eerie fact before laying down on the stiff couch, needing to rest only for a moment, making sure to keep your gun close. 
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Waking to the feeling of cold metal pressed against your head, opening your eyes to a man covered in dirt in blood. Definitely from the wasteland. "Get up," he says, anger filling his tone, doing so slowly with arms raised. A crashing boom pulled the moment's tenseness to the front door.
"He's not here," the new man says, causing the other to look back over to you. "Where's the ghoul?" asking with the same angered voice. "Who?" you answer, pulling off the best-confused face you could manage. 
Not having any of it, he pistol whips you, face turned, he asks you again. "Maybe they don't know," the other man says, interrupting the interrogation. Having his attention drawn away again, you grab his gun fighting for it, keeping it pointed away from you while trying to pry it away. 
Losing the fight as he pulled the trigger, paining your ears, hearing only rigging while being pushed to the ground with a kick. Watching through blurred vision, his mouth moves with no sound, only the sight of the gun being pointed at you once again, then his head being blown apart. 
Feeling footsteps against the wooden floor that had now been covered in brain matter before being peeled from it and out the door. Taking a peek at your savior, seeing a familiar cowboy hat and stern face, a smile grew on your face, knowing once again he had come back to you.
Making it to the small camp that had been not too far from where you were abandoned just before sunrise, sitting on a worn pullout chair close to him, still smiling like an idiot. "I knew you'd come back for me," you say, watching a smile appear on his face in the darkness.
"Heard a gunshot it sounded like fun, darling, that's all." He tries to play it off, but you continue, "Whatever helps you sleep, Coop." Having traveled with him for so long, having many fights, then splitting up just for him to show back up every time as if he couldn't help coming back to you.
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Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!
𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @emoguardian
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tcustodisart · 2 days
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What are some cute moments that occur throughout the different acts that aren’t necessarily in the game but live in your head rent free?
Oh, this one is going to be a long answer, because there's a lot of squatters in my head and there's a lot to be unleashed. Let's start with this doodle with the boys playing lanceboard at camp and continue under the cut. Lots of cringe and brainrot incoming, so brace yourself.
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Act 1:
Connie is constantly bickering with Astarion over him stealing his journal. Gale suggest to cast arcane lock on it, but Connie knows it won't stop that gremlin from reading it so why bother.
This sad pile of rugs is where I imagine Connie sleeps in Act 1. Additional Astarion line: "Damn darling, you live like this?"
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During the first romance scene Connie tells Shart about his family, about how he and his brother know the city inside and out, about his parents and the tavern they run, about the trap incident. It's the most he talked to someone who wasn't his family or his crow in years. He wishes that night would never end.
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Connie sends letters to his family via Faust, he stops after entering Underdark.
Act 2:
I mentioned it before that Connie is not taking the Shadow Curse very well. He misses the sun, misses the grass, he's unable to contact his family, Shart has distanced herself from him. Karlach notices it and tries to cheer him up. They end up having long talks almost every night. That's the moment their friendship evolves from just friends to besties.
When Connie finds the second warding bond ring, he wishes he could give the other one to Shadowheart, but finds the moment inappropriate. He ends up giving her the ring at the beginning of Act 3.
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Act 3:
I have a lot of stuff for this act.
This is inspired by one of Jaheira's lines: "'The Cub and the Crow'- sounds like a cautionary tale. As it probably should." Connie draws her a mock up cover for a kids book. Jaheira sticks it to the traveling chest (I mostly store food there, so to me traveling chest = fridge).
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Connie goes through a serious breakdown at the start of this act (after a companion is abducted), he ends up crying and saying that for the first time he doesn't believe they're going to make it, that he'll never hug his mom, never hear his brother sing again, won't be able to tell his step dad that he saw Darkmaw the Wicked. He's being comforted first by Jaheira and then by the rest of his party.
His favorite armor gets damaged one time, he's very upset about it. But the next morning he finds it magically repaired (Astarion fixed it, from the start of Act 3 they become besties).
This wip that I'm very slowly working on happens during act 3. Connie makes some flower crowns and talks about how his mom taught him to do that. I'm not going to say more, because I really want to finish that comic.
Connie has a deal with Popper that he'll pay him double for every night orchid he finds (I actually did that in game, I bantered him more money for the flower than he asked for, I love that little guy so much).
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This one is more funny than cute but when Connecticut Tav was younger and still lived in Baldur's Gate he used to visit Sharess's Caress pretty regularly because it was the best way to practice drawing people. He really enjoyed talking with the workers there, he eventually convinced them that maybe creating an union isn't such a bad idea. He ended up being banned from entering the brothel because of that. So when the party approaches it to meet Voss, he's very nervous that the owner will remember him (she does). There's a dialogue in my head but it would work better with some visuals, so maybe one time I'm going to draw it.
In my head, the cottage they end up living in is Connie's old hunting hut. So after the conversation with Shadowheart about her plans for after defeating the brain, he suggest that it would be the perfect place to go. He then draws the house to show her how it looks like, tells her that it's surrounded by a forest, there's a lake nearby, a small stable that can be turned into a barn if needed, and that he's not sure about the quality of the soil, but he did grow some herbs there, so maybe it's going to be good enough to grow flowers.
At the end of the game Connie decides to stay in Baldur's Gate for a while to help his family fix their tavern (which was heavily damaged). He tells Shart to go the house I mentioned before, because he wants her to start her new life as soon as possible + because it would be better for her parents. He stealthily puts his journal in her stuff with a note attached to it saying that he finished it this morning and she can read it if she wants to. He also gives her Faust so she can write him letters whenever she wants to. After 2 tendays he arrives at the cottage with some gifts (night orchid bulbs and a pamphlet about how to take care of them, there was supposed to be another gift, but he wasn't able to find it just yet, but that's for another story).
Epilogue party (because I'm that insane):
It's been sitting in my wips for more than two months, so I don't know if I'll be able to finish it. But during the party Connie and Shadowheart take 10 minute brake to visit the place from the first romance scene. They have a very similar conversation like before, but their roles are reversed now - It's Connie asking questions about Shart's current life. "Tell me something about yourself, but no tadpoles, weird artifacts, petty goddesses. Something about you."
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Vampire Smile
Pairing: Thrall!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Vampire!Reader Rating: E Warnings: Vampires, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Blood, Blood and Gore, Self-Hatred, Human/Monster Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Codependency, Toxic Relationship, Self Indulgent af with way too much flowery shit, I wanted to be expressive for once, Self-Indulgent, Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Smut - Let me know if I missed anything! Wordcount: 5934 After trying to push Simon away, he comes back, and distance only makes the heart grow fonder.
(I made Simon’s blood type A Positive, we’ve got two skins with two conflicting blood types for him so I just chose this one) Vampire Smile - Kyla La Grange and Too Sweet - Hozier were playing on repeat while I wrote this. I'm not even sorry. For @glitterypirateduck's Simon Riley challenge. It started from thinking about using 4. A kiss on the inside of the wrist but it became so much more. Thank you @noxturnalpascal for beta-ing for me!
Ghost Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3
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“Please.”
Your skin crawls as you hear his voice, ringing around your mind like he’s in the room with you. But that’s impossible, you haven’t seen him in weeks. You don’t want to see him.
Liar.
“Stop it,” you hiss into the darkness, “You need to stop.”
“I can’t, please. Just need to see you,” Simon’s disembodied voice weakens you as the hooks of his desperation find purchase in your resolve. He shouldn’t have this control, this access to your mind. You should be the one dictating the link, not him.
“You should be focusing on you, on staying alive,” you groan as you writhe under the blankets of your nest. You’re burning up, phantom sweat prickling at your skin as you push the heels of your palms into your eye sockets.
“Why?”
The question shakes you. So filled with venom, bitterness, self-hatred. A single syllable loaded with contempt, defiance, loss. He’s learned to manipulate your bond, he’s had help.
“Because I need you to live, Simon,” you groan as your nipples tighten as you feel him swelling in his boxers. It’s like you’re pressed against him, like that night in Tripoli – the beginning of the end for you both. You relive the way his heat bled into you as you let him worship your body. Your fingers dip down under the blankets and over the valley of your breasts.
“Stop thinking about that,” you snap, clenching your fingers into a fist as you snatch your hand away from your aching core. You’re too old, too strong to let a mortal like Simon play you like this.
He doesn’t respond, instead the mood of his thoughts shift, you hiss as you feel your fangs extend down over your lips. Your mouth floods with the heady tang of blood, his blood. It’s an illusion, a memory conjured up just for you, but it tastes so real.
“Simon,” you warn, voice hoarse as you pull your sleep mask from your eyes. You wince, even with your light-proofing, you can feel the UV radiation raging against the building around you. The burning threat of the sun behind your blackout curtains quells the thirst, the hunger for a brief moment.
“My Lady,” he trades your warning for one of his own, for every inch of his yearning you feel, you know he feels your pain.
“Where are you?” You groan as you force your aching limbs to move, you need to drink something. You’re sleep deprived, hungry, and no matter how hard you try to dispel the psychic haze blanketing your mind you can’t get the taste of Simon’s blood from your lips.
There’s a pause, a stutter in the psychic link, before you feel a deliberate, abrupt severance. You jump from your bed as experience the cold grip of fear wrap around your throat for the first time in decades.
“Simon?” You call to him, probing the cauterized connection in your mind as you search for his presence. He’s not there, he’s cut you off, somehow, he’s blocking your attempts to reestablish the link.
Or he’s dead.
The thought comes unbidden as you let the tendrils of terror twist around your dead heart. It’s pain like you’ve never felt as you realise, you’re trapped here. Simon could be bleeding out somewhere, dying alone, all because you couldn’t face your own feelings. Because you cannot venture into the light to find him.
You call Simon’s number, dread weighs heavy in the pit of your stomach as it goes straight to voicemail. You try again, and again. By the fifth time you’re pacing the length of your hall as you try to fight the urge to rush out into the sunlight.
You just need to know that he’s safe, but where do you even start? He could be anywhere in the world right now. But you’re stuck here, confined to your crypt.
You make yourself move, straight to the kitchen. You focus on the blood bags in your fridge, the A POS label taunting you as you snatch one up. It makes a dull slap as you throw it into your microwave, it kills some of the potency, but you’ve never been one to drink cold blood.
The microwave beeps cheerily and you tear the bag open with your exposed fangs before devouring it in hasty mouthfuls. The crimson liquid dribbles over your chin as you lean back against the kitchen counter.
You feel sharper, less hazy as you feel the warmth spread through your body. It numbs the need to throw yourself out into the sunlight. But it doesn’t stop the ache in your chest as you feel yourself spiralling.
Then you feel it.
He’s here.
The sound of a car door slamming down the street makes you sprint to the door, looking through the peep hole as you feel someone else’s anxiety bubble in your chest. Simon’s anxiety.
You hear his boots crunch on the gravel path, the gait of his walk memorised like a second heartbeat. Favouring his left, caused by an old injury left over from a time before you. It’s hard to imagine a time before him. Before this.
You hover at the front door, hiding behind the thick wooden barrier, fingertips poised over somewhere level with where you know his heart rests within his broad chest. You can almost feel it. Your skin pulses with the faux rush of his blood, tantalisingly close, yet so far away.
“Let me in,” he whispers, too low for a normal human to hear, but you pick it up as easily as if his lips were pressed to your skin.
“No,” you say, loud enough for him to hear, but it wouldn’t matter, the psychic link has burrowed back into your mind. He can feel your desperation, your need for him.
“My Lady,” he groans as you feel him slump to his knees on your doormat, “Please.”
You sink to your knees in a perfect mirror, forehead colliding with the door with a soft thud as you try to find the strength to deny him. When it was just the two of you, communicating with thought alone, it was like chipping away at an iceberg. His attempts to sway you miniscule.
But now, with his heat so close, his scent, gravelly and raw mere inches away, you’re powerless to resist.
“I’ll be in the bedroom,” you say softly as you reach up to unlock the door. The sound of the mechanism turning is deafening in the silence between you.
You trudge back to your bedroom, bed unmade, twisted up in a mass of pillows and blankets. It’s been like this since you sent Simon away. What’s the point in cleaning, in making an effort, when the only person who made you feel remotely human is gone? The rest of the house is spotless, but you’d have to leave your bedroom for more than just blood and to answer the door to even make a mark elsewhere.
You sit in your sleep shorts and his oversized Metallica hoodie. You hadn’t even realised you were wearing it until you looked down to assess your appearance. You consider changing, putting on something less emotionally charged, you could certainly do it before he reached you.
But you hear the solid thud of the front door closing behind Simon and you freeze. His scent invades your nostrils within fractions of a second of the door closing. It’s like liquid sunshine flooding your senses, bright and intangible. You smell his cologne first, the one you bought him for his birthday, subtle woodsy notes with hints of juniper and spice.
You close your eyes, shutting off your vision to enhance your smell. He’s only down the hall, the thrum of his blood in his veins roaring in your ears as his heartbeat increases. You know he can feel you, that invisible string tying your hearts together, it tugs on your chest too.
Then his natural fragrance hits you, he must be at the doorway to your room, he must see you waiting for him in his clothes. His bloodstream fills with Oxytocin, you can smell the shift as his cock hardens in his trousers. He’s smells so fucking good.
Even without looking, you call tell he’s hydrated, sober, eating well, exercising and maintaining his health. The realisation that the distance has only made him more whole and you devastatingly empty makes your eyes sting with tears that will never come. It’s a bitter vindication, the stark reality that you were – are – bad for him striking your heart with more force than any stake could ever deliver.
You want to open your eyes, witness the rejuvenation of his soul, but you can’t. You know it’ll break your heart if you see it with your own eyes. He lingers in the doorway for a moment before you feel the air shift between you. He whispers your name as he kneels at your feet, close enough you can feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but he refrains from touching you.
“Why are you here Simon?” You ask, voice fractured and weak as you ball your fists on your knees, drawing your gums painfully tight around your fangs.
“You know why,” is all he says in return as you let him flood your mind with images of the good times.
Dancing under the stars in Lima, hushed whines and writhing bodies under canvas in the desert, lazy Sundays on Simon’s couch.
It’s almost enough to sway you but you’re pulled under by the riptide of guilt as waves of bitter memories surge up between you.
Simon’s pale form after you took too much, his life fading behind his eyes as you desperately fed him your blood to keep him alive. Tripoli. Where you bound his soul to yours, ruined his life, marked him for death and destruction. You finally found the tenderness and joy you’d never experienced in life, but with an unforgivable trade-off. You were forced to admit you were slowly killing the man you love.
“Then turn me,” Simon says with a groan as he lays his head on your thigh, “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t shut me out again.”
The plea stings, venomous rot agitated and burning in your chest as your eyes fly open.
“You can’t ask that of me,” you hiss as you move to push him away, but you’re frozen in place, palms flat on his chest.
Simon’s ochre eyes pin you in place as you see the fruits of his distance from you. His skin is glowing, tanned and healthy from decent exposure to sunlight. His eyes, though baleful, are radiant as he gazes upon you. He’s filled out, a healthy layer of fat covering his muscular body.
Ripe.
You recoil from his touch at your intrusive thought, you’re crawling back onto the bed, away from him. He sits back on his heels, tears shining in his eyes as you feel the rejection sting through him across your link.
“You look good,” you mumble, making conversation, trying to delay the inevitable expulsion of him from your lair. You want him to leave. You need him to stay. You’re trapped in a web of your own design. Locked down as you cower pitifully from your prey.
“You look like shit,” Simon counters with a chuckle and there it is again, the clawing need for him to hold you as you laugh together. A human, irrational need to grow old with him.
“You’re doing better without me,” you say, selfishly, bitterly, as you meet his gaze.
“I’m doing better for you,” he shakes his head as he places his broad palms flat on the end of the bed, pausing in his movement as he realises what he’s doing. He’s just as drawn to you as he was weeks ago it seems, but there’s a glimmer of hope flickering in your chest as he holds back. It’s not a compulsion anymore.
“Simon,” you say with a gnash of your teeth as he takes your lack of protest as permission to join you on the bed, “You can’t fix me,” you try to reason but with every second he’s getting closer, breaking down your feeble attempts at pious resistance.
“No, I can’t,” he says with a sad smile as he slots between your thighs, hands either side of your head as he impotently cages you in, “But I don’t need to fix you, I just need to be with you, forever.”
“Si,” you whimper as you rest your forearms on his shoulders, warmth blooms in your palms as you clasp his thick neck between your palms, “I won’t turn you. I won’t make you a monster.”
Like me.
“I’m already a monster,” he growls as he leans in to kiss you, his lips ghosting against yours, “My body count is probably close to yours,” he jokes, but there’s undeniable truth there. It’s like he wants you to bite, to take and take and take. But you won’t, this can’t be a suck and fuck that ends in already half-broken promises and dooms your narrative for good this time.
“We have to talk about this,” you plead as he places a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “After.”
“After?” He goads as he nips at your jaw, you burn for him. You’re pliable under his touch, but you refuse to be the first to break. He needs to claim you, not the other way around. You won’t be complicit in ruining this man.
Even if that ship has sailed.
“Make love to me,” you whisper, “But I can’t bite you, not today.”
He pauses as his lips brush your throat, exposing his own to your fangs as he hovers there. It’s a challenge, a promise.
“But I want you to,” he breathes, hot against your cool skin as your gums sear with need to plunge your fangs into the broad, veiny neck mere millimetres away.
“Then leave,” you snap, teeth clacking as you refrain from giving into the heat in your belly, in moments like this, you would give Simon anything. You would let him drive a stake through your heart and it would please you.
For Simon, you would do anything. Anything but damn him to the curse of your lonely eternity.
“I will,” he says with an edge to his voice, dark and dangerous, “If you really want me to leave, and never return, just say the word.”
“No,” the word leaves your lips before you can stop it.
“Then, just for today,” he hums before he licks a thick, hot stripe up your neck, “Indulge me, feed from me,” he growls as you hook your ankles around his waist.
It’s textbook really, the thrall begging to be drained. But there’s something about the way he holds it over you, like there’s true agency there, that breaks you.
It’s like the world silences around you, the sound of Simon’s blood rushing in his veins is the only thing left. You don’t even stop to kiss him, you just bite.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
His heartbeat is a melody in your ears as you break the skin as easily as slicing through butter with a white-hot knife. Your fangs pump aphrodisiac into your mouth, directly into his bloodstream. You’re nearly delirious as you cling to him. Fingernails digging into the back of his shirt, ankles pressing into the small of his back as he grinds down against your barley-clothed cunt.
Monster.
You groan as the splash of blood hits your lips. Honey, cinnamon, spring water. All the things you remember that make up the heady drug that is your Simon.
“Thank you,” Simon’s voice is hoarse in your ear as he lets out shuddering breaths across your rapidly warming skin.
The urge to keep feeding binds you like silver chains, burning at your skin as you feed and feed.
Thump, thump, thump.
“Take what you need,” his voice is quieter now, like he’s speaking through a veil. Your tongue laps at the blood that runs in molten rivers down his skin.
Just a little more.
The poisoned voice in your mind urges you on, it wants you to drain every last drop. Leave behind a pretty little corpse for you to mourn and grieve for eternity. It wants to twist you into the monster you claim to be. You’re about to give in, to flip Simon on his back, pin him down and rip out that beautiful, thick throat.
Thump. Thump.
But he whispers so sweetly in your ear the words you’ve been dreading to hear. Because how can you hide from him now?
“I love you,” his voice is strong in your mind as his lips brush against your skin.
You push him off you, retracting your fangs just in time to stop his skin from tearing under the power of your jaws. He groans as you straddle his hips, your hands flying to his throat, thumbs pressed above his Adam’s apple. There’s no pressure in your grip, it’s weak despite the power raging through you. Simon has made you strong, stronger than you thought possible as you watch his amber eyes gleam with unshed tears.
“Knew you wouldn’t hurt me,” he says with a grin as he takes your wrists in his hands, thumbs brushing over where you once had a pulse.
“Never,” you vow, but your hands don’t move, blood smears against the heel of your right palm as the punctures bleed freely.
“I trust you,” he says with a smile as you feel his mind brush against yours, hazy and blissed out from your venom and his blood loss.
“You’re a fool,” you splutter as you lean down to pepper his scarred face with your bloodstained kisses, “Too stubborn for you own good,” you chide but there’s no malice in it.
“Look who’s talking, My Lady,” he grumbles as he drops his hands to your waist, fingertips dipping under the hem of his hoodie, “Fuck, I feel so good.”
“Yeah?” You purr as you feel the scratch and pull of his callouses on your skin.
“Yeah,” he repeats with a lazy smile as he palms your breasts with both hands, “Let me see you.”
You respond with a flurry of movements, too fast for his eyes to follow as you tear your clothes from your body. You grin down wolfishly at him as you now sit bare above him. You move his hands to your hips as you start to grind down against him.
“Like this?” You ask as you rock your wet cunt over the front of his trousers, using his painfully hard bulge to seek some relief in your aching core. Your breasts sway to the rhythm of your rolling hips.
“Yes,” he breathes your name as he grips your ass with both hands, encouraging you to move faster, but you slow down, to a veritable whisper of motion as you tug on his shirt.
“Your turn.”
He sits up with more strength than you expected. A bonus of being nourished and healthy, you think morosely to yourself as you try and push aside the negative twist of guilt in your gut.
You’re back on top of him in no time at all, his coarse happy trail rubbing deliciously against your clit as you splay your palms across his broad chest. His hands cup your cheeks as he pulls you down to slot your lips over his. You melt into his embrace and swipe your tongue over his bottom lip.
He cedes his mouth to your bloody maw as you tug at his hair, short blonde locks twisted around your fingertips while you pour your soul into his mouth. Unspoken admissions of love are written in the dance of your tongues. Hot muscle sliding over cold, feeling his warmth seep into your bones.  
His cock glides between your ass cheeks as he refrains from taking you. The echo of his pleasure rippling through you every time his tip catches on one of your holes, leaving you groaning in depraved desperation when he angles his hips away.
“I want to taste you,” he growls against your lips as he swipes his tongue over his own, collecting blood and venom before swallowing thickly. Your cunt clenches at the way the muscles in his neck flex and ripple. You want to bite down again and again, but you focus on Simon’s eyes, smiling down at him as desire swells within you.
“Then taste me,” you say with a smile as you feel the cobwebs of despair being blown from the corners of your mind. It’s easy to forget the bad times when you come together like this. It’s more than sex, it’s in the sweet intimacy as Simon flips your positions so you’re onto your back. In the way he eases you down onto the pillows, cradling your body in his strong arms as if you’re made of glass. It’s in these moments you forget and allow yourself to feel human again.
The irony makes you giddy as he kisses your jaw, nipping firmly against your cool skin before leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your body. His lips latch on your left nipple as he swirls his tongue around the hardened peak. The noise he makes as he worships your breasts makes your legs weak.
Caught in his throat, somewhere between a whine and a moan. Your response is desperate, feral.
“Simon, please,” you beg as he hums contentedly against your skin, slowly moving further down your body. His tongue lashes at the curve of your stomach, over the expanse of your ribs. You yelp in surprise and pained arousal as he nips at your skin. You buck your hips up as his lips meet your clit.
You want to cry out, to say something meaningful, but all that spills from your lips are strained whimpers. You’re gasping, even though you have no need for air, as he laps wetly at your slick folds. His hot breath and broad tongue ignite against your skin as he devours you. You buck up into his thick tongue, grinding against his slick muscle and he growls into your core.
“Taste so good, been dreaming of this,” his voice is muffled but you can see the flashes of those nightly visions behind his eyelids.  
First, you’re riding his face, face contorted into a fanged snarl as he pulls orgasm after orgasm from you. Next, pushed down into the mattress with his nose bumping against your dripping hole as he delves his tongue through your folds, lapping at your clit as you fall limp against the bedsheets.
The images run wild through your mind as he loops one arm over your belly, pulling your cunt tighter against his mouth. Two thick fingers tease at your hole and you’re whimpering for him, begging with thighs tightening around his head. Your fingers knot back into his hair as you urge him on, fingernails scraping on his scalp just how he likes.
He eases his fingers into your slick pussy, curling them up just how you like. Hours spent mapping your body out with his tongue, his teeth, fingers and his cock have made your pleasure second nature to him.
“Don’t leave me again,” he groans before sucking your clit between his lips, tongue swirling over your exposed bundle of nerves as he fucks you roughly on his fingers, “This cunt is mine.”
The sudden possessiveness arouses and angers you as a primal, monstrous need to dominate him flares at the base of your skull. It’s another blow to your twisted, broken ego, pulling you down from the precipice of total annihilation. It humbles and excites you just enough to let hope seed in amongst the putrid rot of self-hatred in your chest.
“If it’s yours,” you pant as you feel the subtle fraying of your nerves as your orgasm builds, “Then take it, show me how much you need me Simon Riley,” you growl, invoking his name like the night in Tripoli, “Show me you’re worthy of me.”
“Yes, My Lady,” he whimpers into your slick folds as he fucks his thick fingers into you, a pace and force strong enough to bruise if you were capable of such a thing, “Anything for you.”
Your mouth burns with the venom that leaks from your fangs as you dose yourself on your own poison. It’s blistering euphoria as you clench hard around Simon’s fingers. Slick gushes from you, coating his mouth, his chin, and his fingers. You scream his name as you remove your hands from his head, fisting and ripping at the bedsheets. Even this far gone, you will not hurt him.
Never again.
“Simon,” you whisper as you tremble, legs falling weakly as he laps gently at your core, worshiping at the altar of your sex as he drives you to overstimulated bliss.
“Did I do well?” He asks softly as he dips his tongue into your quivering core, causing your back to arch.
“Of course,” you croon as you sit up, fingertips tracing the scarred ridges that litter his face, palms cradling his jaw, “More than well, Simon, my love,” you whisper as you press your cool forehead against his, eyes closed as you let yourself just feel. Heat flows between you as his hands find your face.
“May I fuck you?” He asks, strong nose pressing against yours as he kneels between your legs, amber eyes flashing with desperation while he awaits your command. He smells of you, your essence smeared over his lips making you shudder as you press a chaste kiss to his lips.
“I don’t want you to ask permission like I’m your Lady,” you say as you feel his apprehension spike across your bond, “I want you to take what is already yours, Simon. As my lover. Not as a pale imitation of a pet.”
He pauses and you feel the flash of indecision under your skin like it is your own before his eyes darken. There’s something simmering under the surface as he trails his hands down your body, lingering on your waist as his thick fingers curl around your hips.
“I need you,” he murmurs your name, “I will have you.”
“Then take me,” you purr as you twist your fingers through his hair, pulling his head back taut as he snarls, “Use me, show me the meaning of need.”
Simon presses you back into the mattress, his hips slotting between your thighs as you feel his cock slap against your clit. You look down to see how broad he looks, and whimper at the sight of his hips rocking lazily back and forth. His tip catches at your entrance before he slides his shaft up through your folds.
You tremble as his bulbous head bumps against your overly sensitive bundle of nerves again and again. He’s toying with you now, making you squirm as he tests the limits of your patience. But you simply smirk up at him as you drag your fingernails down the column on his neck, his hips stutter and the way he grins down at you is almost enough to make your heart beat again.
“So beautiful beneath me,” he coos as he finally relents, notching himself at your aching core, “Oh fuck.”
He presses into you slowly, stretching you out, filling you to the brim in one slow, agonising roll of his hips. You huff out an empty breath, devoid of the air you no longer breathe, but the instinct to make room for his weight on top of you, deep inside you, prevails.
“Take me so well,” he grunts as he presses his chest against yours, head falling forward as he nips at the line of your jaw, “Like we were made to be together.”
You wrap your ankles around his waist as you expose your throat for him, it’s an unspeakable act of submission to a human. But you don’t care, you war with the monstrous instinct that makes your blood boil. You want to give Simon this, this symbolic gesture of equality. What he does with it, you dare to hope will change things for the better between you.
No more invisible noose around his neck, nor stake pressed to your heart.
He presses his cheek to your own, his scent invading your senses as you wrap your arms around his back, digging your nails into him as he slowly pulls almost all the way out.
“Bite me again,” he whispers against your skin, right where your pulse once throbbed, “I can take it.”
“Simon, I-,” you’re cut off by the arcing pain that erupts from your neck as he sinks his blunt, inefficient teeth into your neck, sucking wildly as he snaps his hips into you. He groans into your neck as the loud, wet slapping of skin on skin weaves through the air between you.
Pleasure rips through you as he splits you in two on his cock. It’s maddening as you feel another orgasm flaring hot at the base of your spine. You can’t help the way your fangs slide back over your lips as his sweat glistens on his neck. His blood pulses visibly under his skin as you let go, lips pressing to the thrum of his lifeblood. It echoes in your mind as you taste the salt of his skin.
“Please,” he growls one more time before you lose your grip on your carefully cultivated self-control.
Your fangs sink into his skin and you drink greedily the moment the tang of his blood hits your lips. Your pussy clenches like a vice around him as he ruts into you, desperate noises spilling from his mouth as he bites you again and again.
You take from him as his thrusts increase in pace, your release crackling up your spine as you try to last a little longer. Honey and cinnamon, spill onto your tongue as you gulp down more than you should. But Simon doesn’t falter, his pace punishing as he chases his own release now.
“Simon,” you whine as you force yourself to stop, “I’m gonna come.”
“Do it, milk me dry, fucking- hah- please.”
You do as instructed, a coy smile on your lips as you realise you enjoy being dictated to by him. Your orgasm blurs the line between your bodies as you clench hard around him in desperate, erratic bursts. You pull him into a kiss, letting him taste himself as your tongues tangle together. You swallow his shallow moans as his rhythm falters and he snaps his hips into you twice more before he’s buried to the hilt, filling you with his spend.
You’re bound together in a mess of hot and cold limbs, Simon’s ragged breaths fanning across your skin as he kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you until you have to roll him onto his side to stop him.
“Enough,” you scold him playfully as you curl into the deep warmth of his form.
You lie there quietly for some time before you feel the tension leave his body, his breathing slows and you hear the telltale sign of sleep in his heartbeat. You peel yourself out of his embrace to clean up in the bathroom down the hall. It’s not strictly necessary, but you were a sucker for sexual hygiene in life, you were never going to give that up, even in undeath.
Once you’ve washed up, you head back to your bedroom, grabbing Simon some water and a protein bar on the way.
He’s exactly where you left him, sound asleep as his blood smears against the sheets around him. It’s a beautiful sight, seeing him like this, exhausted and sated but not broken. It’s not something you’re used to, not something you ever thought you’d see.
“Come back to bed,” he grumbles, and you can’t help but smile as you throw the bottle of water and snack onto the bed next to him.
“Only after you’ve eaten something and drink all of that water,” you protest as you settle on your knees next to him. You refrain from touching him as your euphoria ebbs, there’s a bitterness clinging to you as you realise that you’ve lured him back into danger.
“It’s ok,” he says as he rips open the packaging of the snack bar, “I’m ok.”
He rests a broad palm on your knee and you feel the assurance flood your mind. He’s baring his heart and soul to you through your bond and you nod. Despite the fear in your gut that threatens to devore you whole, you believe him.
“So,” you start as you watch Simon finish off the protein bar, “You going to tell me who I need to murder?”
“What?” He nearly chokes on a mouthful of water as you feel the panic rise in his chest.
“You had help,” you say, probing against his mind with your own, “With this.”
“Ah,” he chuckles as he flops back on the bed, “Yeah, Johnny’s been helping me with it, with everything.”
“Son of a bitch,” you grumble as you realise Soap has probably seen more of you through Simon’s mind’s eye than you’d like.
“He got a nip slip, of sorts,” Simon grumbles as his cheeks flush pink, “Asked me to think of the strongest memory, focus on it, channel it,” the aforementioned memory rippling into your mind as you watch yourself, asleep in Simon’s bed. It’s from the first time Simon let you feed from him, you’re splayed out under a simple sheet, moonlight illuminating your form. Your left breast is uncovered as you watch Simon move the sheet back up to cover you.
“I remember this night,” you say with a smile playing on your lips, “We fucked like rabbits,” you giggle to yourself as you feel a new wave of emotion rush in through your bond.
“Thrall or not,” he says with a heavy sigh as he pulls you down to lie on his chest, “It was the first night I knew this was more than a fling.”
And you feel the truth in his words, the raw honesty and the clarity in his mind. It sets your mind at ease, for the first time in months, you don’t feel like you’re damned to ruin him. You rest on his chest as his heart hammers in his chest, a deep rhythm etched into your soul.
“Thank you,” you whisper as you feel his breathing slow as sleep threatens to take him.
“For what?” He asks, thick fingers tracing patterns on your back as he holds you impossibly close.
“For trusting me, for getting better,” you breathe as you place sloppy kisses to his pectoral.
“Was selfish,” he shrugs it off as he places a kiss to the top of your head, “Can’t love you if I’m dead, can I?”
“No,” you shake your head, “I guess you can’t.”
There’s an unspoken understanding, flowing between your psychic link as you vow to keep him safe. To keep him by your side. For as long as he wants you.
You eventually settle back under the sheets, tangled together, saying little as you pull the blankets around you both. You know this isn’t perfect, that there is work you and Simon need to do, things that need to be said. You know there will be more pain to come but for now you’re content to exist in this moment a little longer.
And for the first time since you died, you feel warm.
Ghost Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3
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anemos-orca · 2 days
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Better than Almond Tofu
Xiao x GN!Reader Smut, MDNI!
CW: blowjob (Reader giving), established relationship, semi-public (?), kissing (hehe :3), shy Xiao, swallowing, comfort/aftercare
NSFW under the cut
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Working as the new chef at Wangshu Inn had put a lot of stress on you. After Smiley retired, it was up to you (his apprentice) to maintain the culinary reputation of Liyues favorite Inn.
No pressure.
However, despite the weight of high expectations, you never woke up feeling stressed or overwhelmed (well, there would always be off days, but those were off days)- partially because you loved your job, and partially because your long time crush, and now boyfriend, considered the Inn as his "lair." Which, speaking of- you had tried to suggest terms other than "lair" because it sounded very villainous, but Xiao had no intention of changing his vocabulary. You would sigh and narrow your eyes, but despite his stubborn continued use of the deviously connotated word and how it made you shiver at first, you eventually came around, finding the title rather endearing and ending up using it yourself.
It had been a long, busy day, and now that the sun was set, the workers of Wangshu Inn all collectively sighed in relief, retreating to their respective abodes for a good nights rest. Saturdays were always busy.
"Im heading up to Xiao, g'night Ms. Goldett!" You said to the boss of the Inn with a friendly wave, grabbing the plate of Almond Tofu you had made for Xiao. By now, it was your nightly routine- finish cleaning, make Xiaos meal, say goodnight to the boss, and head up to his lair before bed (though, more often than not, you fell asleep laying on Xiaos lap, insisting that it was better than your cold, lonely bed).
The boss waved right back at you as she shoved the last of her belongings into her bag, preparing to retire for the night herself.
Making your way up the stairs with two hands on the plate of steaming food (archons forbid you drop it like that one time), a smile began to tug at the corners of your lips just as it did every other night. You couldnt help it, not with the way Xiao smiled so softly and graced you with little kisses, followed by a barrage of "thank you"s as though he were indebted to you and your cooking, even after telling him each night that you cooked for him because you loved him.
"Xiao?" You softly peeped, not wanting to startle him as you stepped up onto the balcony.
The Yaksha was leaning against the railing and staring out at the expanse of Liyue, only peering over his shoulder once you called his name, "Hm? Oh, (y/n), its you," he gave a gentle smile and left the railing to meet you half way, his hands rising from his sides to hold the plate over your own, making you blush. You noticed how his gloves were taken off, your heart fluttering as you realized that he remembered how much you loved it the last time he took them off.
You would think his body cold and calloused, but it was quite the contrary- his touch was as gentle as that of a tiny canary, his warmth as soothing as a fond childhood memory, and his skin silkier than even the finest silks of Teyvat. He was so soft, sweet, tender- it was intoxicating and you were never able to get enough, even if you were to spend every waking moment of the day with him.
He took the plate of tofu with a "thank you" and set it aside, focusing his attention on you, "You look so sleepy. Are you feeling alright?" He asked, his voice a soft coo.
You nodded, bringing your hands up to hold his cheeks, "Mhm. Just a long day, but i dont mind. Come here," you purred, leaning in and pressing your lips on his. You thought he would only reciprocate like he usually did- pressing his lips against yours before pulling away to cover his blushing face- but tonight was different. He slid his hands onto your waist and pulled you closer, kissing you back with a passion you didnt know he had in him yet. Gently pulling away, he gazed into your eyes, an intense blush creeping over both of your faces.
Your hands fell from his cheeks to his shoulders and your words seemed to catch in your throat from the pounding of your heart in your chest. Xiao brought one hand up to caress the soft skin of your cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth as he studied your eyes, "Was... was that okay?" He asked, his voice gentle and soothing, pulling you out of your racing thoughts.
You smied and nodded leaning into the comforting touch of his warm hand on your face, "Can I have another?"
Xiaos eyes widened a bit, not having expected you to ask for more- though it was a welcome surprise. He leaned in and kissed you again, this time deeper than before. His tongue swiped against your lips and you parted your mouth, inviting him deeper. Your tongues pushed against one another in a messy kiss, swapping saliva as his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair. You instinctively rested your body against his, making his breath hitch in his throat with a quiet gasp.
It continued like this for several minutes- you were lost in his embrace, the sweetness of his mouth, the warmth of his body pressing against yours. Time melted away and all you could think about was the way his tongue felt inside your mouth, and the more he kissed you, the more you wanted.
You couldnt help but quietly moan into his lips as the hand that was once gripping your waist moved to the dip in your lower back just above the hem of your pants, pulling you against him. Xiao didnt seem to realize, but by pulling you that much closer, you could now feel the tightness that was forming in his pants, causing your once steady breathing and quiet moans to stutter. That, Xiao did notice. He gently broke the kiss, lightly panting, "A-are you okay?" He asked, concern lacing his voice.
You licked your lips and nodded, "Hm? Why wouldnt i be? I was just a little... surprised, is all," you explained, your gaze softening and a reassuring smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Xiao seemed a bit confused, his brows slightly pushing together in thought, "Surprised..?"
It suddenly hit you that Xiao hadnt exactly noticed the tent in his pants. You leaned in, "You... have an erection, Xiao," you explained, your voice soft and lightly laced with desire.
Xiaos eyes instantly widened and his entire face turned red as he froze up, glancing down to where he had pulled you closer as if to make sure he wasnt hearing things. When his gaze rose back to you, you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was mortified, so before he could spew out a tsunami of apologies and disappear, you tightened your grip on his shoulders to ground him, "Xiao, its nothing to be embarrassed about, please dont go!" You plead, earning an apologetic expression from him.
"B-but-"
"Please...?" You said, cutting him off.
"I-it... wont go away on its own, i have to go s-so i can take ca-
"Let me do it for you," you offered, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes, "I-i... i want to help you... please, dont go."
Xiao gulped hard, thinking for a moment. He had never done such a thing before (which was to be expected considering his lack of experence with, well, anything and everything to do with humans), having always taken care of it himself, but he knew for a while now that this would have eventually come up. He knew that when humans got in relationships they indulged in frivolous, physical romantics, but he never understood any of it- until he met you. The way your fingers moved so grasciously over his each time you held hands, the way the sweet taste of your lips lingered on his after each little kiss, the way he couldnt help but stare a moment longer than he should whenever you would wear revealing or form-fitting clothing- it all made him start to catch himself thinking shameful, perverted things about you and your body. Thats when he understood human romantics- thats when he started looking forward to the day he got to experience it with you.
With a shakey breath, Xiao nodded, agreeing to let you help him, "J-just... be careful, a-and dont push yourself..."
Your eyes lit up with excitement and you couldnt help but press an adorable little kiss to his bright red face as a genuine smile spread across yours, "Ill be gentle, i promise."
If you had a tail like General Gorou, it would be wagging like crazy right now.
You had Xiao sit in one of the two chairs you brought up to his lair quite some time ago before carefully dropping to your knees before him. You looked up into his gaze with those pretty doe-eyes of yours, making sure he was comfortable and okay as your hands slid up his clothed thighs. He brought one arm up to his face, covering his mouth with the back of his hand to try and stifle the little whimper that fell from his lips as your thumbs caressed his inner thighs. He watched as your fingers wrapped around the hem of his pants and gently tugged them down, guiding the restrictive fabric off his bulge. Xiao gave a strained groan as his erection sprung free- if it was possible for his face to turn any redder, it would have.
Your mouth instantly watered at the sight of his member and how hard it was just for you, forcing you to swallow down the saliva pooling in your mouth. His erotic scent filled your nose as you squeezed his thighs and leaned forward to kiss the precum drooling from his tip, your eyes never leaving his. You wanted so badly to tell him how cute his whimpers and gasps were, how you wanted him to not hold his voice back, but you kept it to yourself, not wanting to make him self conscious. You pressed your lips against the base of his cock, leaving a trail of heated kisses along the entire length before wrapping your lips around his leaking tip and circling your tongue around it. You watched with satisfaction as Xiaos eyes rolled back into his head and his brows furrowed together in pleasure, a full-blown moan rolling from his throat. His hand found its way to the back of your head, his fingers tangling into your hair as you began bobbing your head over his cock, taking the time to ensure that every inch was given the special attention it deserved.
"Ngh~... (y/n)..." Xiao breathlessly said between whimpers and moans, his eyes meeting yours once again as you managed to deepthroat his entire length, if only for a moment. Your thumbs massaged circles into his inner thighs and you moaned onto his cock at the taste of his delicious precum coating your mouth, a tiny tear pricking in the corner or your eye as you gag around his length.
"F-feels so... a-ah~ good..." Xiao whimpered, his grip on your head tightening. You felt his cock begin to twitch in your mouth and his hips slightly buck up into you as he drew closer to climax. Lewd, wet sounds of you sucking him off filled the air and you purposefully moaned more to send vibrations through his throbbing length as his breathing evolved into desperate panting and moaning.
"(y/n)... (y/n), i-im," he said before being interrupted by his own embarrassingly loud moan, "im gonna- haahh- cum, im gonna cum, l-let go before it gos in your m-mou-"
Before Xiao could even finish his sentence, you sucked harder and faster, running your tongue along the sensitive underside of his cock before deepthroating him one last time. With a sharp cry of your name, he pushed your head down further and released his hot seed deep inside your throat. You continued sucking and running your tongue over what you could reach to milk him of every last drop he had. He gasped hard, fully covering his mouth with his hand and squeezing his eyes shut as he hunched forwards from the intense waves of pure ecstacy, his hand clenching a fistful of your hair. You bobbed your head over his throbbing length a few more times to help him ride out his climax before pulling back and swallowing. Drool was smeared over your lips and chin and a little teartrack shone on your cheek, but the only thing Xiao saw was the happy, satisfied smile on your lips as you fixed his pants back around his waist and gazed up at him.
"(y/n)..." He said under his breath, still feeling aftershocks of pleasure.
"Did you enjoy it?" You asked with a lustful twinge in your voice, wiping your face clean with the sleeve of your shirt.
Xiao weakly nodded, still catching his breath and blushing hard, "Y-you... didnt have to... swallow it..." He murmured, stammering and tripping over his own words.
"Why wouldnt i?" You asked, fixing your hair.
"I-it... it cant taste good, y-you shouldve spit it ou-" Xiao began, only to be cut off by your finger on his lips to shush him.
You got off your knees and moved to straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck, "I liked it. It tasted good, like you," you quietly explained, feeling his arms hug around your waist, "You know, from now on, i-if you... want to do it again... id be more than happy to."
"... I-i... wouldnt mind that..." Xiao admits, nuzzling his cheek into your hair as he holds you close.
"I love you, Xiao."
"I love you too, (y/n). Always."
There was a brief moment of silence as the two of you basked in one anothers embrace. Had you been cats, your purring would be so loud that you wouldnt be able to hear even the loudest of thunder claps.
"(y/n)?"
"Hm? Something wrong?"
"No, no, i was just thinking, uhm... if you wouldnt mind, id like to help you next time, too."
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a/n: i hope it was enjoyable :) apologies for how long it is, i got a bit carried away! Should i try and keep these shorter in the future? idk what you all prefer ~w~
a/n²: rip that almond tofu its cold as hell now qwq
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loveharlow · 18 hours
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SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 002 (PART 2)
PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[5.9k] Trying to lay-low in Kildare doesn't go over too well and just when things were looking up, it all comes crumbling down.
WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, gun violence, mild animal cruelty, general angst
NOW PLAYING‧₊˚
A/N‧₊˚ if you didn't wanna report my blog from part 1, you're gonna want too after this also im posting this NOW because of the whole explicit blog situation🙄 i think we all deserve a little reward. THIS SONG IS ☺️🥹😖😫 "DID YOUUUUU TAAAAKE MY LOVVE AWAYY FROM MEEEEEE?"
˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗
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IT TOOK ALMOST ALL NIGHT TO SAIL BACK TO KILDARE, the sun just rising once again when the six of you arrived at the edge of The Marsh at the crack of dawn. You were tired and starving, the guys and girls splitting off into two separate groups to go look for food.
You, Kie, and Sarah had found some watermelons just as the sun’s heat started to break through the Kildare clouds. You and Sarah were sitting in the grass while Kie took up the space on a metal bench, each of you munching on your respective melons, fingers stained pink.
Kiara was quick to urge Sarah to catch her up on what happened, the blonde girl spilling every detail about what happened from the moment John B and her disappeared.
“The boat tipped and I honestly thought that was it, I thought that was the end. Next thing I know, we’re waking up on a boat headed to The Bahamas…” She recounted. She told you everything, from finding the gold again at Ward’s vacation home to getting shot by Rafe, to…
“I’m sorry, you got married?” Kiara exclaimed, her eyes wide as her hand paused from where it was digging into the fruit. Sarah just had a sheepish smile on her face, chewing as she nodded.
“It’s not exactly legal, but…” She trailed off, throwing a chunk of the melon into her mouth and looking at both of you. “Yeah, we did.” She admitted, smiling and chuckling in Kie’s direction before she seemed to conjure up another thought. “And *gulp* Am I crazy, or is there something going on between you and Pope?” She spoke, mouth full of watermelon.
Kiara smiled and shrugged, avoiding eye contact with the Cameron girl. “Maybe...” She said, squinting her eyes as she looked out in front of her. “I’ve come to a couple of…realizations, recently, I guess.” She said under her breath, eyes peering at you for the shortest of moments, so swiftly that Sarah didn’t catch it and you barely did yourself.
“That’s not a no.” Sarah egged on, still eating. The three of you fell into silence for a few passing moments, the only sounds being the birds flying by and the chewing of fruit before Sarah spoke up once more, this time her questions aimed at you. “You okay? You’ve been kinda quiet.” She asked, her wide eyes peering at you.
You just shrugged, looking down at your lap as you spoke. “‘M fine. It’s all just a little surreal, y’know? Up until a couple of hours ago, I really thought you and John B were dead.” You said, building the courage to meet her eyes. “It’s honestly the biggest blessing that you guys aren’t but... a lot happened while you two were away. That’s all.” You assured her, sending her a tight-lipped smile and returning to eating.
“...It was really hard to find a a way to contact you guys. And we didn’t want to risk someone tipping off my dad or the police just yet. It’s gonna be a shit show when we get back to the island, that’s for sure.” Sarah scoffed, raking her fingers through her hair.
“...Sarah?” You piped up, the girl humming response. “It’s good to have you back.”
She smiled happily in response, her teeth showing as her cheeks reddened. “It’s good to be back.”
JOHN B DOCKED THE DRUTHERS TOO AT THE CHATEAU WITH LITTLE HESITATION, A familiar bundle of golden fur running towards him and jumping on him the second he was off the boat. 
“Woah, hey, hey…” He cooed, petting Marley softly as she pawed at his thighs and torso.
“Sorry about that,” You said, shielding your eyes from the sun. “We’ve been crashin’ here since…” You trailed off, shrugging as John B looked up at The Chateau, jutting his bottom lip out and shrugging one shoulder.
“The place looks great, actually.” He said, directing his gaze to the grass, looking side to side. “The weeds are gone and there aren’t any beer cans in the grass.” He laughed out.
“That would be courtesy of me.” JJ bowed dramatically. “Mowed the lawn and threw in a little extra service.” John B rolled his eyes playfully and walked towards the entrance of the home, the five of you following behind him. 
“Not to bring the mood down or anything but I’m not exactly looking forward to a check-in at home…” Kiara announced, walking at the very back of the group. “My parents have probably already arranged my funeral.”
“Same. I predict unpleasantries at the Heyward household after I left the truck in Charleston.” Pope cringed at the thought, holding the straps of his backpack. 
“...No one knows we’re here, right?” JJ threw out, deep in thought judging from the look on his face. “And you two-” He pointed at Kiara and Pope. “-aren’t gonna get in anymore trouble for showing up twelve hours later. Am I right or am I right?”
“You’re not wrong…” Pope seemed to contemplate.
“So that means we have twelve hours to do whatever we want.” JJ smiled, clapping his hands together. “A little pogue fellowship, how does that sound? Let the shit hit the fan tomorrow.”
“The cops are looking for us. It just seems really stupid…” Sarah reminded, a look of worry on her features.
“Sarah Cameron,” JJ approached the girl sitting on the rail of The Chateau stairs. “You’ve heard of my philosophy, right?”
“No.”
“Stupid things have good outcomes all the time.” JJ spoke as you and John B mocked him, sending a smile in each other’s direction as you tried not to laugh. The blonde boy turned around, clapping his hands. “Who’s with me? Let’s go get some beer!”
KIARA HAD MANAGED TO STEAL SOME BEERS FROM THE WRECK, SEEMINGLY WITHOUT BEING NOTICED. By the time Sarah and JB had showered and JJ and Pope set up the lights and hot-tub, the sun had fallen again. The pit in your stomach had started to settle, allowing you to actually enjoy the fact that your friends were alive and well and back where they belonged. Although other events were still swirling in your mind and dampening your mood, you wouldn’t let it show.
The six of you crowded the hot-tub, shotgunning beers as music played faintly from a speaker plugged in near the porch. JJ and John B had some impromptu dance battle while Pope started freestyling out of nowhere, the remaining three of you watching it all like a comedy show from the comfort of the hot tub.
At some point , JJ rolled a joint that made it’s way through the group in record time. You currently had the object clutched between your fingers, laying on your back in the grass near the oak tree with Marley next to you as JJ and Pope wrestled in the grass. 
“Single-leg sweep!” John B cheered, watching Pope pin JJ to the ground — JB, Sarah, and Kie sitting and watching around a bonfire. 
Pope got up triumphantly, hands in the air as JJ got up and dusted himself off. He and JJ shook hands with lazy smiles on their faces before Pope snatched up his beach towel and turned around in the direction of The Marsh. “I’m done!” He called over his shoulder. “I’m outta here…”
“You want a round two?” JJ called in his direction, cupping his hands around his mouth.
Pope chuckled and waved him off without a glance back. “Yeah, I think I’ll take my losses.” The group’s attention was stolen by Kiara who grabbed her shirt from the lawn chair she was on, getting up and following Pope. 
You just scoffed and took another hit of your joint, watching from a few feet away as Sarah’s jaw dropped while John B and JJ cheered. “Really?” Sarah exclaimed. 
“Way to be discreet!” JJ called after the two.
“I leave and this is what happens.” John B sighed in mock disappointment, slapping his hands against his knees as he rose from his seat. “Your boy’s out.” He shook the red cup in his hand. “Beer time.” He told the two blondes before walking in your direction, your splayed figure going unnoticed in the dark of night as JB reached into the cooler to grab a fresh beer, his eyes landing on the art piece the four of you had engraved into the tree.
You watched as he slowly paused, his eyes glossing over as the boy attempted to suppress his emotions. 
“You better cry.” You spoke up, speech mildly slurred from your tipsiness. “It took me two hours to carve your long ass name into that...big ass tree.” John B looked around startled for a moment before looking at down at you laid out in the grass like a snow angel. You smiled and waved lazily at your friend.
He rolled his eyes and laughed, cracking open the canned drink in his hand. “You scared the shit out of me, little weirdo.” He said, taking a small sip. “I forget you’re a lightweight. You need a water or somethin’?”
You simply pursed your lips and waved him off. “Pfft. I am fine. And I’ll have you know I am not drunk or high, just…thinking.” The Routledge boy cocked an eyebrow at you, JJ and Sarah’s mindless banter filling the silence. “I’m serious!” You chuckled out. “I’m not, I swear. I just needed some time to think for a little bit…”
“About?”
“...Are you kidding?” You asked incredulously, lifting yourself up to lean on one arm. “John B, you came back from the dead. And believe me, I am so glad that you and Sarah are back but I’m scared for you guys. Sooner or later, someone is gonna find out you guys are back on the island and when they do?…”
He simply nodded. “That's fair." He sighed. "We tried to get through to you guys for weeks before we were able to send that message.” You hummed in response before yawning. “And even though you haven’t said it yet, I missed you too.” He winked at you.
You flipped the boy off and plopped back down into the grass as the footsteps of someone else appeared.
“What’s happenin’ over here?” He asked cheerfully, slapping a hand on John B’s shoulder. He met your eyes but you looked away. You still didn’t want to talk to him. 
John B looked between the two of you skeptically before letting whatever thought he had go, pointing at the tree in front of him. “This cute little art project.” He told the blonde, referring once more to the memorial carving. “Killed the tree, though.”
JJ laughed, bowing his head down. “Probably, yeah…” He said, sniffing before looking at JB. “I fuckin’ missed you, man.” He said seriously, pulling John B into a tight hug. They buried their heads into each other’s shoulder, embracing one another as tight as possible.
“Kind of lonely over here!” Sarah called out, the two boys releasing one another as she waved the three of you over. The slapped each other on the shoulder and began walking back over to the bonfire, you getting up and whistling for Marley to do the same, the golden retriever standing up slowly and shaking herself off before following you. 
“Aww, look.” The blonde girl cooed from her place on a log, staring ahead as the three of you followed her gaze to find Kie and Pope sailing away on the HMS Pogue. 
“There he goes.” JJ cheered, sending a thumbs up to the couple on the boat. “He jacked your boat, dude.” He said to John B.
“Pope’s poking on the Pogue.” He replied with little emotion, staring out like he couldn’t believe it while Sarah wolf-whistled in their direction. Through her cheering and whistling, you thought you heard something in the distance, prompting you to turn around with a look of confusion etched across your face.
“Hold on,” You spoke up, the remaining pogues attention turning to you. “Did any of you hear that?”
“The chickens?” JJ threw out a possible solution, you shook your head.
“No, I heard something. Like a car door shutting…” You said confidently, eyes trained on the trees in front of you trying to see through them.
After a few moments of squinting, you managed to make out two figures creeping through the bushes and if you weren’t mistaken, they were both armed. “...There’s people in the woods. They have guns.” You said, a hard expression settling on your face as you quickly took hold of Marley’s collar.
“Wha- are you sure?” Sarah asked panicked, standing up from the log she was perched on and edging closer to John B.
“Yes, I’m sure.” You replied quickly. “Hide. Hide somewhere, anywhere but in the house.” You instructed, the three of them just staring blankly at one another. You looked at them stupidly, snapping your fingers to gain their attention. “Hello? Earth to Powerpuff Girls? Unless your wanna play bullet-tag with the strangers in the woods, I suggest you hide!” You whisper-shouted, guiding Marley into the chicken coop by her collar as your three friends seemed to silently decide on hiding in the large oak tree, not before John B put out the bonfire and followed JJ and Sarah who were scattering and climbing up the trunk of the tree one by one.
There was more than enough space for you to hide Marley in the coop, pushing her inside as quietly as possible as she started to whine lowly. You brought a finger to your lips, shushing the animal as you gently pet the top of her head. “It’s okay.” You assured, pushing her a little further in as the sound of leaves ruffling got closer. “Just sit and stay. Okay?” You instructed as you stood up and made a b-line for the tree, climbing up as quickly and quietly as possible, taking the hand that was offered to you and planting yourself on top of one of the thick branches.
Through the leaves and branches, you saw the two figures emerge into the lights of the backyard. 
It was no one other than Rafe and Barry.
There was no way they found out about Sarah and John B that fast.
Barry crept up the side steps to the front door, gun held in front of him as Rafe wandered through the backyard, right under your noses. He stopped in front of the freshly blown out bonfire as Barry threw open the door to The Chateau, creeping inside. 
“Where the hell are you?...” Rafe asked mainly to himself, eyes wandering from the smoking wooden planks. Just then, the sound of glass breaking came from inside the house, followed by the sound of Barry groaning in frustration just before the man in question came barrelling out of The Chateau. 
“Ain’t shit in there!” He shouted, jogging down the small staircase. 
“Nothing?” Rafe asked, his tone calm in contrast to the drug dealer’s.
“No, nothing, Rafe.” Barry spat. It seemed as if Barry’s frustration began to rub off on the Cameron boy.
“They were obviously just here based off the smoke, man.” Rafe reprimanded, voice raising slightly as he threw a hand out in the direction of the smoking pit. 
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Barry ignored him. “Great observation, Boy Scout.”
“They gotta be around here somewhere...” Rafe reminded, Barry rolling his eyes and began kicking things around in the yard as Rafe turned around, staring viciously at the length of the tree. 
“P.4.L.” Barry mocked the words carved into the wood, Rafe looking back and laughing with the man, the gun in his hand pointed directly at the carving. 
“Well, shit…” The Cameron boy chuckled breathily.
“So, your sister’s a ‘Pogue For Life’ now, huh?” Barry taunted, watching as the lazy smile on Rafe’s face dropped as he looked back at the tree. His eyes started twitching as he gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his nostrils flaring out too. You were no stranger to that look on his face — he was losing it…
“...Shit!” He hollered like a madman, the loud reverberation of his voice causing you and Sarah to flinch violently. Even Barry flinched behind the boy. Within seconds, Rafe had cocked the gun back and fired off several shots, the four of you ducking behind the branches as bullets flew. Barry, who tried to take the gun from his hand, ended up forcing the guns aim upwards, the four of you just narrowly missing being shot. 
“Rafe, chill!” Barry scolded, snatching the gun from the boy’s hands. “You gon' get our asses busted!” 
The silence that occurred after Barry’s warning was what allowed the duo to hear a faint whine coming from somewhere in the yard. Your hands clawed at the wood of the tree, your nails splintering under the force.
You prayed they would ignore it. That they would leave her alone.
But you knew that wasn’t going to happen the second Rafe rotated his whole body in the direction of the chicken coop, his face twisting as he walked towards it. Bending down in front of the small opening, he scoffed, running a hand down his face.
“Would you look at that?” He laughed, eyeing Barry before looking inside of the coop once more. The whining never stopped. “They left the damn dog.” He told him, voice raspy. He snapped his fingers and whistled, trying to get Marley to obey. “C’mere girl.” He tried, but she wouldn’t budge.
“The fuck…just leave it, man. What the hell you gon do with a dog?” Barry tried, annoyed at this point.
For what it was worth, your dog had a very good judgment of character. But you guessed that trait didn’t make Rafe too happy. It was like something in him snapped, shooting a hand out and grabbing Marley by the collar, dragging her out the pen when she wouldn’t listen.
She whined and barked, trying her best to resist his pull as her paws slid across the dirt. 
“No, no, no…” You muttered under your breath, moving to climb down the tree when a forceful hand wrapped itself around your arm, your eyes meeting JJ’s. “Let go. What are you-”
“You can’t go down there, are you crazy. He will hurt you.” JJ told you seriously, his eyebrows setting into a straight line. 
“The hell I can’t.” You spat back, trying to wiggle your arm out his grip to no avail. “If I don't go down there, he’s gonna hurt her.” You told the blonde in hushed tone. You hated how shaky and sad your voice sounded.
“We’ll get her back.” He told you, his grip tightening lightly in reassurance. “I promise you.” You shook your head at his words, swallowing harshly as your teary gaze went back to where Rafe was manhandling Marley. She wouldn’t stop crying out and it broke your heart.
“Jesus, you gon have to get a muzzle for that bitch.” Barry groaned. “And what you gon do when daddy asks where the mutt came from, huh, Country Club? ‘Cause you already know Snoozie’s gonna be looking up and down the island for her, missin’ posters ‘n shit gon be up before you make it back to Figure Eight.”
Rafe just licked his lips, positioned slightly bent down to keep a good grip on your dog. “Trust me, she knows where she is. They’re here, I know that for a fact.” He told Barry, his eyes wandering the seemingly empty yard. “You want your dog back?!” He shouted out into the empty yard space. “Looks like you're gonna have to put on your big girl pants and come and get her!”
That was the last thing you all heard before the two men were leaving, dragging a hysterical Marley behind them. Most dogs would bite when threatened. But Marley wasn’t a violent dog. That was one of the many things you loved about her. But in this moment you hated it.
BY THE TIME KIARA AND POPE HAD RETURNED WITH THE BOAT THE FOUR OF YOU NEEDED TO LEAVE, THE SUN HAD RISEN SIGNALING A NEW DAY. You were all silently petrified and hadn’t said more than five words in the last, what you guessed was, six hours or so. JJ perked up when he spotted his two friends in the small boat, slinging his backpack up on his shoulder and heading towards the two as the remaining three of you followed silently.
“Yo, don’t tie up yet!” He called out, skipping down the pier just as Pope was about to tie up the boat.
“What?” Kiara replied back, squinting her eyes from the sun.
“We’re dippin'.” The blonde told the girl, jogging towards the boat and coming to a stop in front of the two, throwing his bag into the boat.
“Wait, why?” Pope piped up.
“We gotta get the hell outta here.” John B said urgently, getting into the boat right after JJ, you helping Sarah down into the vehicle as JB held a hand out for her, the girl still limping mildly due to her injury.
“Rafe knows we’re here so we have to leave, like, now.” She panted out, sitting down in the boat as you climbed in after her, not saying a word.
“Okay, okay…” Pope spoke absentmindedly, hurrying to un-tie the portion of the rope he did secure, tossing it into the boat. “Wait, what about the dog? Where’s Marley?” Sarah, John B, and JJ all looked at each other then at you, prompting Kie and Pope to share a look before doing the same.
“...We’ll explain everything later.” John B threw out, caressing Sarah’s back. You didn’t protest or say anything, you were too angry to do anything. The pair of them glanced at you once more before getting into the boat themselves.
“We’ll sail a few miles out, find somewhere to camp out for a bit.” Pope announced, getting behind the wheel and starting the engine. "Then, you have to tell us what the hell is going on."
“LOOK, IF RAFE AND BARRY KNOW, IT’S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE EVERYONE KNOWS.” John B started, hands on his head as he paced back in forth in the grass. The group had found an empty clearing a few miles away from The Chateau, an open field near The Marsh.
JJ scoffed, shaking his head. “I told you. We should’ve gone south, man.” He added. “Why does no one ever listen?”
The rest of you sat in the grass not talking. You were sitting criss-crossed, plucking individual strands of grass. 
“...I have an idea.” Sarah croaked, swallowing harshly as she stared down at her shoes. “With me back, my dad’s going to have to choose between me and Rafe.” You paused in your grass plucking, peering up at the girl. 
“Sarah-” John B started only to be cut off.
“He’s gonna choose me.” She said confidently, looking at John B. 
“Just please listen.” Her boyfriend pleaded, holding a hand out in her direction to let him speak. “Ward keeps lying to you, Sarah.”
“No,I…I know it sounds crazy-”
“Yeah, it does.” Kiara told her bluntly. 
“I know.” Sarah defended herself, biting her bottom lip and looking around at the five of you. “But he’s my dad. And I know him, and I know he loves me.” She pleaded with the group, rubbing her hands nervously against her thighs. “I’m just asking for two hours.” She concluded, eyes wide and begging for you all to understand.
You simply shook your head, looking out at the water in front of you. If Sarah believed that her father would choose her, who were you to disagree? You had your doubts but you kept them quiet. If you learned anything in the past month or so, it’s that you have to let people see who others really are for themselves, otherwise they'll never believe it.
Without any more objections, Sarah tucked her hair behind her ears and stood up, looking at the group of you one last time before walking off.
SARAH HAD BEEN GONE FOR NEARLY AN HOUR, THE FIVE OF YOU WANDERING OFF AWAY FROM ONE ANOTHER. Pope and John B were at the edge of water talking, Kiara was laying in the grass plucking flowers, and you were leaning on a nearby tree. 
You got the urge to look up from where you were digging the toe of your shoe into the dirt when the sunlight was no longer beaming on you, coming face to face with possibly one of the last people you wanted to talk to.
You sighed, crossing your arms. “What part of leave me alone do you not understand?”
The blonde scratched the back of his head, looking side to side before shoving his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Look, I don’t know what I did to make you this mad at me. And even though I would really like to know and won’t stop bothering you until I find out, I promise I didn’t come over here to press you about it right now.”
“Then what are you over here for?”
“I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.” He said, eyes roaming your face as you looked away for a brief second. “You may hate my guts right now but we’re still pogues. And you know how I feel about you...” His voice lowered to a whisper as he leaned in closer. "That doesn't change just because you're pissed at me."
“I don’t hate you.” You didn’t mean to say it. You planned to let him talk to himself while you didn’t respond but something about JJ thinking you hated him really made your stomach turn. Sure, you felt betrayed and led on, but you didn’t hate him. You don't think you ever could.
It would take forces between the heavens and the earth before you would ever even come close to hating JJ.
“...And no. I’m not okay.” You said bluntly, straightening your posture. “I am angrier than I have ever been in my entire life and I can’t do shit about it, JJ.” You groaned, rubbing the back of your neck. “I don’t have any parental figure left, some psychopathic rapist who has an obsession with trying to ruin our lives just kidnapped my fucking dog, my best friend just came back from the dead and the only evidence we have to clear his name and keep him out of jail for a crime he didn’t even commit is being withheld by some batshit crazy woman who lives on a former slave plantation and has a live-in bodyguard, and you...” You ranted all in one breath, stopping yourself right before you went too far. 
JJ just nodded, rolling his lips in on themselves as he gave you a moment to collect yourself and catch your breath before speaking. “Yeah…yeah, that about covers it.” He said, the unhelpful statement causing you to roll your eyes. You don’t know if you purposefully left out the part about him and Kie or if it was a subconscious thing. You figured that would’ve been the best time, if any, to bring it up. But it also seemed like the most miniscule on your list of problems at the moment.
“Well…what about the box?”
“The what?” You said exhaustedly, squinting your eyes as he shifted his weight, allowing the sun to beam on your face. You were too blinded by the golden ray of light to notice how the blonde got distracted by you — the way the sun illuminated everything about you. It made the naturally lighter pieces of your hair more visible, it made your eyes a shade brighter, made your eyelashes more visible, and casted a heavenly glow across your skin. Deep down, he really wanted to get to the bottom of whatever he did to put you off from him this badly because the idea of having you in his life as more than a best friend was looking more appealing every second he looked at you.
Snapping himself out of it, he replied. “The, uh, the box of shit you stole from your mom’s office? That’s, like, hardcore evidence, right?” You pondered on the boy’s statement for a moment. It wasn’t like you’d forgotten about the evidence, it crossed your mind ever since John B’s text came through. But your biggest problem was Shoupe — you didn’t trust him. And you weren't sure if a couple of tapes would be any help.
“Ward has Shoupe and the entire Sheriff’s Department wrapped around his finger. If I hand over the only evidence we have and Shoupe chooses Ward over his oath as an officer, we lose everything.”
“But you don’t think it’s worth the risk if it can clear Bree?” He cocked an eyebrow, clearly questioning your judgment.
You bit your lip in contemplation, shaking your head. “...I’ll sort through everything and see what we can possibly bring to Shoupe. If things go south with JB and this whole key that Pope keeps talking about, I turn it all over to the police. Deal?”
JJ nodded his head, glancing back at his two friends at the edge of the water. “Deal.”
“In the meantime?” You threw out, pushing yourself off of the tree and adjusting yourself. “I’m gonna figure out how to get my damn dog back.” Just then, you saw the HMS Pogue coming towards the shore, Sarah perched on the edge.
The five of you stood up, approaching the edge of the water and watching as the girl let the engine die and the boat come to a halt. The guys moved forward to pull the boat up onto the sand, the girl taking the hand John B offered to assist her out of the boat.
“So, how’d it go?” He asked, hair blowing in the wind as you all crowded each other. Sarah looked to her feet, shaking her head.
“You guys were right.” She sniffled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It didn’t work.”
Everyone nodded despondently, expecting nothing more or less but still disappointed by the outcome. Despite you and JJ’s separate conversation, the pogues weren’t completely aware of the evidence you were holding onto. You figured they'd forgotten. You didn’t want John B and Sarah to have run again, but you needed some time to get what you needed to at least attempt to clear their names without backfire.
“We still have one more opt-”
“What’s that?” Kiara interrupted you, looking petrified at the water ahead of her. You all followed her gaze, finding a fleet of boats with flashing lights sailing directly towards the six of you. 
“How’d the cops find us?” Pope added, taking a weary step back as the boats got closer. 
“They must’ve followed you here.” John B told his girlfriend. “It had to have been Ward.” He spoke rather calmly. 
“Stay on the beach with your hands in the air!” One of the officers commanded through a megaphone. But since when were any of you known to follow rules?
A shared look amongst the group had you all bolting in the opposite direction within seconds, almost tripping over one another in the process. Running on sand was a harder task than you ever imagined, the ground feeling as if it was slipping underneath your feet.
One quick glance behind you and the officers were hopping off their boats, chasing after you all. Your shoes were submerged when you had to run through a shallow bank of salt water to get to the other side of the beach, hoping the trees would hide you. 
Sarah started to slow down, the running causing a strain on her side. John B was quick to scoop her up, throwing an arm around her torso and slinging one of her own over his shoulders. Tree branches and bushes nipped at your calves but you paid no mind to it. 
You could hear the heavy footsteps and radio chatter of the officers behind you all, scattered in the woods, trying to find you all from any and every angle. Reaching the edge of a pond surrounded by weeds, you all let John B help Sarah in first before following, the water going above your knees. 
The further in you waded, the deeper it got until you all had to literally swim across the body of water, Sarah at the tail end of the group. The murky water splashed into your mouth and in your eyes but you kept going. 
The sound of splashing and yelling behind you signaled that you’d been spotted just as you reached the other side, you being the first one out of the water. With no where else to go, you all hid behind the largest tree in sight, the object able to conceal the half dozen of you.
Sirens blared in the distance, your heads snapping behind you to find two police cars flying down the dirt road.
“We’re trapped.” Pope panted, crouching behind the tree. “They got us surrounded. What do we do?”
“We’re not getting out of this.” JJ said, blonde strands soaked, his shirt sticking to his body as he rang out a bandana. “We gotta make a stand.” Pulling the infamous gun from his waistband and wiping it off. You looked at him crazy, snatching the object from his hand before he had a chance to react. Your own hair was sticking to your face, the damp feeling of your clothes making you uncomfy,
“That’s the complete opposite of solving the problem.” You told him as he absentmindedly reached for the weapon. You held it out of his reach, oblivious to John B watching the entire interaction occur.
He was grateful that he had friends willing to get into this kind of trouble for him. But his heart wouldn’t allow any of you to go down with him. Unbeknownst to you, JB had climbed down from the tree, taking hold of your wrist of the arm that held the gun.
Your eyes met his as he slowly took the weapon from your grasp, letting it fall to the ground. Your eyebrows furrowed as he looked at each and every one of you with the most detached look on his face. Smiling at you all, he spoke.
“It’s gonna be all right.” He choked out, gently letting your wrist fall. It was then that you knew — he was surrendering. He took slow, backwards steps away from you all kicking a pile of dirt and leaves over the gun to conceal it.
Just then, Shoupe arrived, wasting no time in drawing his gun in your friend’s direction. “John B! Step out into the clearing!” He hollered, officers surrounding you all from every direction and every single one of them armed. 
“I’m surrendering!” He told the man, hands in the air. 
“Aye, the rest of y’all stay right where ya are, keep your hands where I can see 'em.” Shoupe told the five of you behind JB, all of your hands going in the air slowly. 
“Hey, listen Shoupe, I wanna testify!” John B cut in, eyes red and teary. 
“It’s ‘bout time.” The man said, approaching the boy with two officers trailing behind him. All three of them pointing pistols at you all. “Get down, do not move a muscle. Everybody else, don’t move!”
Shoupe directed one of his deputies to detain John B, the man storming over as he holstered his weapon. He pat JB down quickly before snatching the boy up into a chokehold, clearly out of anger and not protocol. 
“Are you serious?!” JJ was the first to call out, voice echoing throughout the woods.
“Hey, what the fuck?!” You shouted yourself, taking one small step forward but the female officer that chased the car a month ago, Deputy Plumb, was quick to stop you, pointing her pistol right in between your eyes.
“Stay where you are!” She instructed firmly, her eyebrows setting into a fine line. 
You and your friends were forced to watch as the officer arresting John B, who Shoupe referred to as Deputy Thomas, slammed your friend onto his back into the grass and beat on him. You were all shouting and screaming but anytime you took a step, there was officer in your face with a fully loaded pistol or an assault rifle. And these people looked too trigger happy to be arresting a teenager.
Shoupe finally stepped in when Thomas had John B by the collar of his shirt. The man in charge attempted to pull his deranged officer off of your friend but he was pushed back as the man faced John B once more, nostrils flared as he held the boy mid-air.
“...This is for Peterkin.”
And with an uppercut, John B was out cold.
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feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.
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58 notes · View notes
chickycherrycola · 3 days
Text
perfect
Happy SoMa Day to all who celebrate! A national holiday, as far as I'm concerned 😋I offer a fluffy, bite-sized little ficlet as my contribution, which features some of my favorite Soma tropes - grumpy Soul, domestic fluff, accidental cuteness, and BREAKFAST - all in less than 1k words!
Read it on AO3, or under the cut in its entirety!
-
“You’ll feel better once you have some food in you.”
Soul knows she’s right–Maka is almost always right, not that he’d willingly admit it–but still, he’s choosing to gripe about it.
He gripes about it all the way from his motorcycle to the glass entry doors of the restaurant, through the tightening of his meister’s grip on his wrist, until they're sliding into plush, squeaky booth seats and the hostess is shoving menus into their hands with a stifled smirk.
He bitches a little less, however, when his eyes fall upon the wide selection of food items displayed on the pages of said menus, as he flips through the smorgasbord of breakfast offerings. Banana nut pancakes and huevos rancheros, Belgian waffles and eggs benedict florentine. This place has every breakfast delicacy under the sun.
Unfortunately, the rest of the population of this po-dunk little Midwestern town must know this, too, as the restaurant is packed, and harbors every social annoyance under the sun as well. 
Screaming toddlers. Middle-aged brunchers clinking their glasses of mimosa too loudly. Elderly couples staring at him obviously, their expressions aghast with horror. A crowd of servers gathered around a nearby table, presenting a young girl with a stack of birthday pancakes as they sing to her. 
His head hurts, they got back to their hotel room after the mission way too late, and he’s running on a less-than-optimal amount of sleep. He wants to shovel a giant plate of scrambled eggs and bacon into his face and then promptly crash into the nearest sleep-able surface.
Soul groans and lets his head fall to the table, his forehead meeting wood with a heavy thunk. Moments later, there’s the all-too-familiar sensation of a pinch to his ear. 
“You’re such a grump,” Maka giggles.
“I’m allowed.”
“Never said you weren’t,” she replies. He waits for her to continue berating him–’sit up straight already’ or ‘stop breathing on the table, it’s disgusting’- but she doesn’t. He rolls his head around, angling his eyes up to look at her, and finds her attention focused elsewhere.
“Isn’t this place just the cutest?” she muses. “I love the décor. It’s so cozy and welcoming.”
She’s gazing out at the room beyond, a twinkle of delight in her eyes as she takes it all in. Soul notices, too, for the first time–opposite them is a flickering fireplace framed by a brick hearth, and whimsical works of modern art hang upon every wall. Strategically placed ivy plants bring some color to the dining room, their jade-green, star-shaped leaves cascading down in long, elegant tendrils. 
And on the wall of the booth they’re presently seated at, a lushly textured panel of artificial greenery. Maka’s flaxen head contrasts nicely against the darker shade, and–it would make for a lovely photo backdrop. 
“Hey.” He sits up, suddenly feeling invigorated, and reaches a hand into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve his phone. “Smile for me real quick?”
Maka blinks at him. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Are you… are you taking a picture of me?”
“No, I’m checking the weather for our flight home later,” Soul deadpans. In response, Maka sticks her tongue out at him and wrinkles her nose in an exaggerated grimace. Soul shrugs and hits the camera button, forever immortalizing the moment on digital film, and Maka blanches when she realizes he’s snapped a photo. 
“H-Hey! Delete that!”
“No.”
“W-Well, take another one at least–”
“Pose nicely, then.”
Maka pouts, her cheeks visibly flushed and her brows cinched together, but before he can get that expression on film, she composes herself–adjusts her pigtails and straightens her spine, schools her face into a pleasant, soft smile. Soul lines her up in the viewfinder of his camera app, and–
Snap. 
He examines the photo for several minutes, eyes darting between his meister and the image of her on his phone screen, before nodding subtly to himself. 
“Well? How do I look?”
“Perfect.”
His fingers tap, tap, tap away as he uploads the picture to his story, witty caption and all–’She dragged me to a bougie brunch place instead of letting me sleep in’- and doesn’t realize Maka has fallen silent until he’s hit the post button. 
When he puts his phone down and looks at her once again, she's staring at him with a strange expression on her face, her bottom lip between her teeth and her cheeks a shade of scarlet nearly rivaling his eyes. 
“What?” he asks. 
Maka clears her throat, runs a nervous finger idly around one of her pigtails and looks down at her lap. 
“N-Nothing.”
At that moment, his phone pings–a reply to his story post from Black Star. 
“Bro, you’re such a sap.”
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itsabouttimex2 · 17 hours
Note
This can be for anyone you think would best fit.
I have a personal comfort item that I cuddle to sleep. I get pissed if I am not cuddling it so what would ANY of the yanderes do about this?
Stuffie Reactions
Sun Wukong, MK, Azure Lion
What does this character think of your comfort item?
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Cute, cute, cute. Sun Wukong considers your attachment to be simply adorable, and doesn’t interfere with the attachment you have for the thing. We get to see that he’s a little nostalgic for the past, so I think he’d understand the love for a long-standing comfort item. If it’s a plushie of some kind, the Great Sage will probably have a few commissioned in similar fashion to give you a ‘troop’ of cuddle-buddies.
That being said, he still wants your attention! Cuddle your plushie all you’d like, but come and lay your his in his lap while you do. Clean and brush it, but let him wrap an arm around you while you’re at it.
As long as he gets the same amount of love that you dish out to the personal possession, Wukong won’t complain. Start ignoring him I’m favor of it… and he’ll find a nice little cranny to hide it in. Maybe a few sleepless nights spent looking for it will drive you to his arms… eventually. He can wait.
He’s not the one losing sleep over it, after all!
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MK is, in a word, jealous. He wants to be your hero, the one who scoops you up and delivers you to safety, the one who comforts you and wipes away tears. And instead of him, an actual hero, you have… a toy.
Regular MK wouldn’t care- in fact, he’d sympathize with you, given he’s got a massive monkey plush of his own! But with obsession to bog the mind, he’s more demanding of your time and attention- as well as your affection.
He wants those cuddles you give to the precious plush you’ve kept since childhood! He wants to be the pillow you rest on! Honestly, MK is more than a little hurt that he’s being one-upped by a literal object.
He briefly considers stealing and trashing the stuffed animal, but settles on an even better idea that won’t break you heart- his power to transform.
MK slips the worn plush under your bed and stealthily takes the thing’s place, shifting into an exact replica- every bead, stitch, and discolored patch is just as you remember, left right where you always put it before leaving your room-
So you don’t hesitate to give him it a good cuddle.
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Azure Lion has a tendency to view his obsession as much younger than they truly are- you having a stuffie only reinforces this incorrect view.
Anytime he sees you holding your plush, it’s as though ten to fifteen years drop from your age. He can’t see a teen or an adult in you- just a child that needs him. (If you are a child, he spoils you with plushes and dolls to make up for his frequent absence. It’s not like he’d allow you to have real friends, after all.)
It’s not like Azure is going to grow jealous over a stuffed piece of sewn fabric- he’s just happy that you have something that makes you happy. He can just steal away into your room at night, settling for stroking the hair from your face and tucking the blankets tight.
(And a forehead kiss. Always. He’s never once forgotten it.)
Unlike the monkeys above, though, Azure Lion will remove your plush as a punishment. Not out of jealousy or desire for affection- but as a method of keeping you in line.
To him, it’s a particularly beloved toy, not really an object worthy of respect or love. And since taking it seems to be a good way of getting the response he wants, Azure is prone to snatching it away without hesitation- and returning it promptly once you’ve “learned your lesson”.
Thankfully, he’s not cruel enough to destroy it.
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chaosduckies · 15 hours
Text
Restoration (Chapter 11)
The time has come! This took me about five drafts for me to actually think it was decent so I hope you guys enjoy it! There’s just a whole lot of little scenes I liked to make. It’s a roller coaster of emotions, you’re going to hate me but it gets better! (Please don’t hate me I will not hesitate to cry TwT) Otherwise, enjoy!
Word Count: 12.7k
CW: Death, Vague mentions of suicide, severe trauma, vague gore warning, violence, I think that’s it!
11- Ryker 
It was quiet without Angela and Lucky. Mostly because Dylan and Lucky are almost always the cause of all the loud noises, but sometimes Angela and Isabelle just liked to play around. Now, it was lonely. Of course Nathan always let Angela talk with us on his phone for hours since we can always see Lucky at school, but Angela was being picked up by Nathan for almost a full week. Nathan says she’s been doing fine. She plays some games with his mom and he likes playin hide and seek with her when she’s bored. As for Lucky, Nathan says he’s just been doing his own thing. What he usually does. He also says that he’s on the phone with Dylan all the time too. Not surprising. 
No worries though. They’ll be back before Christmas. There was no way I was letting them miss it. Plus, the riots and stuff have been going down lately. They can finally come home, and I really, really missed them. No matter how many times I’ve had to clean up after them or they’ve given me half a heart attack every time they’re on the edge of somewhere high in the house. They were my siblings, I couldn’t just not care. 
Jasmine helped me take down all of the elevators around the house. The only bad part about that is that we can’t exactly put them back once they’re off, so it’s going to be like this until I can find the time to put some in later. They’ve never had a problem being carried around everywhere anyways. 
I sighed, laying down on my bed and staring at the ceiling. There wasn’t anything to do really. Dylan stayed in his room talking to Lucky while also playing whatever game he had, Jasmine was in the living room playing with Isabelle since no one else could at the moment. Usually Angela kept her busy. 
“Ry!” I heard Jasmine’s voice yell through my door. I groaned. I didn’t feel like getting up. I just laid down not too long ago, can I not get a break? 
“What!” I screamed back. 
“Isabelle says she’s hungry!” 
I placed a hand on my forehead, forcing my body under the covers. I was too tired to do anything, but I’m pretty sure we have some leftovers from last night she could eat. Jasmine and Dylan can make themselves something. I just wanted to get some sleep at this point. 
“There’s leftovers in the fridge!” 
I heard the fridge door open and close, then the microwave starting all the way from my room. I finally relaxed, the pillow cold under my head and my lights off with the blinds closed, blocking out any evening sun that threatened to creep inside my room. Perfect time to go to sleep. the best part about it was that I didn’t have school in the morning either. I was so physically and mentally exhausted I could just pass out. And I did. 
—————— 
When I woke up, it was to the smell of burnt pancake batter, making me scrunch up my nose and hurry to the kitchen, where Jasmine was currently throwing out her entire plate of pancakes that were beyond burnt. I laughed, watching her hurry to turn off the stove that was surprisingly not on fire. Jasmine just glared at me, leaning agianst the counter in defeat. I walked up next to her, smirking the entire time, “You just lost to pancake batter.” 
She playfully punched me in the shoulder, laughing along with me. I looked back at the box she had used, seeing that there was still enough for the four of us. I sighed, grabbing another bowl and placing the old one into the sink. Might as well make the rest if they really wanted pancakes. 
“Why’d you try cooking? You hate being anywhere near a stove.” I asked, mixing together the powder with milk. 
“You were asleep.” Her voice slightly a higher pitch. I looked back at her for a second, watching as she tapped her hand on the counter. 
“What else?” I grabbed a new pan that didn’t have burnt remains of pancakes and turned on the stove. Dylan knew how to cook a little bit. Jasmine would have woken him up to help her. So why didn’t she? 
“Nothing. Isabelle and I woke up about an hour ago and she just told me she was hungry.” Jasmine shrugged her shoulders. I poured some of the newly made batter into a pan and let it sit there for a couple seconds. She wasn’t going to tell me. At least not anytime soon. Better to just accept her answers now before she gets mad. 
I stayed silent until Dylan walked into the room, immediately sitting down on top of the counter and yawning. He scrunched up his nose, the faint smell of smoke in the air, “What did Jasmine burn this time?” He joked, earning a punch to the shoulder that actually looked like it hurt. 
Everyone grabbed their plates, and we all watched a cartoon in the living room. It just felt quiet without Dylan and Lucky constantly messing around with each other or Isabelle and Angela playing with their stuffed animals. I knew we all missed them. Just two more days. Two more days and they’ll be back with us. Everything was going to go back to normal. I’d really have to thank Nathan and his mom for helping us out so much. I smiled at the thought. 
———Nathan———
Despite there being two more people in the house, is was actually relatively quiet. Which was surprising given that Ryker’s house was usually filled with a huge commotion. Maybe it was because they were away from each other? I really did feel bad. I mean, they all seemed really close to one another. Plus after Ryker told me what happened to their parents… It must be hard. I couldn’t think about leaving my mom for any reason, so it must be so much worse when it’s your own siblings. 
They were going back this Sunday. Things have gone down and it’s nearly Christmas so I didn’t want them to miss that. Lucky was taking a nap on the couch while Angela was busy with a coloring book my mom had bought her the other day. She was currently coloring a picture of a parrot, and for a four year old she was surprisingly good at coloring. My mom was cooking dinner. I offered to do it instead but she just argued that she hasn’t cooked for me in a while. I just left it at that. 
So now I was laying down on the couch. School was out for winter break finally. Which meant only five more months until I would be left alone again. Just my mom and I. I didn’t plan on going to college, maybe just a part time job. After what happened so many years ago I’ve been afraid to live on my own. But let’s not think about that right now. 
What I was worried about was what if Ryker didn’t like the present I would be giving him. The concert tickets of course. They didn’t really cost much. Like a seventy dollars for two tickets? Not bad. I had bought everyone else’s gifts except for Dylan’s. I knew he liked sports and all that, but I couldn’t get him something like that. I had zero idea and I really needed to ask Lucky what to get him, because I’m pretty sure Lucky had bought something for him before he came here. I’d just have to ask. Not now though. 
I know Ryker loves reading, drawing, cooking. What else? Lucky mentioned something about sweets? Like cookies and all that? How would I even do that? I can’t just bake something fifty times my size. I had thought about buying something like a cake but how would I even get it to him? I mean… I could ask for help. Maybe from Jasmine? Nope. Get that thought out of my mind. She hates my guts. Dylan then? That would mean I’d have to ask him for a favor, and I didn’t really want to. But how else would I give Ryker a good gift? 
I guess that’s what I would do. But instead of buying one I’d ask Dylan to make it using my recipe. Would he though? I mean he seems like a nice guy. I guess the real question would be if I could be alone with him for about two hours. Or if could handle it at least. I’ve really only been around Ryker. 
——————
After we ate dinner, it was around 7 but Angela already looked exhausted. My mom set her to sleep in the guest room before leaving for work. I didn’t get why she always overworked herself. I knew she was tired too, but yet she stays awake almost all day to take care of us, and then leaves for work at night. When it was just me here as soon as she came back she’d give me a hug, take a shower, and then head to bed until it was later in the evening. I guess having more people in the house is making her think she has to stay up. I can take care of everyone. I didn’t mind playing around with Angela, I didn’t mind joking Lucky in a game, or going outside with everyone. I also didn’t mind cooking for more than just two people. So I didn’t exactly know why she stayed awake when she was so tired. 
“I can’t wait to head back home alreadyyyy.” Lucky groaned, the tv playing quietly in the background. He was on his phone while l sat reading a book as usual.  
“Sorry.” I mumbled, closing my book and turning my head to face the tv that was currently playing a movie about some cops trying to catch a serial killer or something like that. I wasn’t paying attention. 
Lucky stayed quiet for a while before facing me, “Sorry for what?” 
“That you have to stay here.” I answered. 
“It’s not even your fault. Plus, it’s not even bad here. I just miss being with my family, y’know?” Lucky explained, now facing the ceiling with his arms under his head. I nodded my head. I didn’t exactly know how he felt about this whole situation. I’m sure he realizes why he even has to be here. Because some people just don’t like humans. 
I opened my book again, trying to get at least halfway done with it before I fall asleep. At least that was my goal. Honestly I was extremely tired for no reason. I go to bed relatively early, and since I don’t have school anymore I’ve been waking up at around nine in the morning everyday. I didn’t know why I felt so exhausted. I wasn’t too worried though. I feel fine in the morning so it’s fine. 
“Can I ask you a question, Nathan?” Lucky asked, still staring at the ceiling. 
“Sure?” It came out more as a question. 
“Do you like Ryker?” 
My eyes widened. What kind of a question was that? “Yeah. He’s a nice friend. Why wouldn’t I?” Lucky started laughing, sitting up and now looking right at me, “I meant like, like him. Y’know, like a couple?” 
I felt my cheeks immediately heat up at the realization. Lucky started laughing so hard he was choking while I buried my face in my hands. This was embarrassing. I tried getting rid of the red blush that just seemed to be painted on me at this point. I groaned as Lucky caught his breath, still waiting on an answer, though I’m sure he’s already assume one. 
I’ve never really thought about it. I mean I do like him as a friend. He’s done nothing but help me ever since I’ve met him. I really do like being with him too. But do I really like him? I could just be mistaking it for liking him as a friend. That was probably it really. I don’t think I do. Nope. Plus, what makes anyone think that Ryker would like me back? It just didn’t make any sense. was he even into boys? Was I even into anyone? I’ve always thought that no one would want to be around me pretty much my whole life. I don’t know anymore at this point. Why were we even on the topic? 
“N-no. We’re just friends.” The blush on my face was still painted across my cheeks. Lucky just rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say.” 
I grabbed my book that I had lightly thrown on the cushion next to me and hid my bright red face in it. Just forget about it. Why would he ask that question anyways? It so random to ask. I was so unprepared too. There was no way I could just forget about this. 
———Ryker———
The cold air outside felt great. A thin layer of snow now covered the entire city from last nights little shower, and it just felt great to be outside. Today was going to be a good day. I could feel it. Today also happened to be the day that Lucky and Angela would be coming home with us, which we were all excited about. 
Jasmine had work today, and of course she was angry. It actually took me a while to clam her down so she wouldn’t be late for work. So now it was just Dylan and Isabelle with me as we headed to the bus stop to go and get them. I guess this counts as a family reunion? I mean, we haven’t really seen each other for nearly a week. It may not seem that long, but when all you have are your siblings, it’s not easy to let go of them. Let alone be apart from them for this amount of time. 
Nathan had already texted me that they were already waiting. Apparently his mom wanted to say goodbye to Angela because she grew attached to her. I wasn’t very surprised. They must be freezing though. I know this kind of weather is kind of amplified for humans too. My mind went back to that night that seemed like forever ago. When Nathan had just snuggled up as close as he wanted to me for warmth. My heart fell, and a small smile appeared on my face as we walked along the sidewalk. 
When we arrived at the bus stop, Lucky had practically ran as fast as he could to Dylan’s hand. Isabelle stayed in the back, smiling. I had told her before we had left to keep her distance from these two. Mainly because I had noticed how alert Nathan was when Isabelle was around. But that’s not something I should worry about now. 
I crouched down, watching a small four-year old girl stumble over the snow to get to me. I let down a finger for her to hang on to while I talked to Nathan and his mom, but I couldn’t help but notice how the woman standing next to Nathan flinched as soon as Angela had hugged my finger. Did she think I’d hurt my own sister? That-that can’t be it, right? 
“Thank you both so much. I don’t know what I would do if you hadn’t helped.” I slightly smiled, they smile back, “Oh you’re welcome! If you need help you can send them our way anytime!” His mother offered. She was the complete opposite of Nathan. She didn’t seem sheepish around me at all. So then why was Nathan so afraid? The thought snuck into the back of my mind, but I just pushed it aside. 
“Ready Angel?” I asked, waiting for her to nod her head, but instead she rushed over to Nathan’s mom, gave her a hug then hurried back. I chuckled, tilting my hand slightly for her to climb on herself. I turned to Nathan, who waved a little before quickly stuffing his hands into the pockets and scrunching up his jacket. Just as I called it, he was freezing. Maybe he wants to come with us for a little? I have to take them shopping since there was only a couple days until Christmas, and Dylan and Lucky still needed to find gifts. 
“Wanna come with us, Nathan? We’re just going shopping then heading back to my house.” I asked. He looked shocked before turning to his mom who nodded and whispered something to him. Nathan nodded his head with a smile on his face. I let my hand down again, watching him lift himself up on the first try, but still trip over thin air and fall. I would help him, but judging by the way he reacted a week ago when I was just trying to check up on him, I don’t think I really want to freak him out even more. 
I thanked his mom again for helping, and we left. Dylan and Lucky were catching up while we made our way to the small store where we usually go to. I handed Angela to Isabelle. She knew what to do and what not to do. I couldn’t imagine Isabelle ever hurting anyone or anything so it was fine. 
Behind me, Lucky and Dylan were laughing about something, and it made me kind of curious, but I didn’t want to bother them. Even if they spent hours talking on the phone and as much time together in school as they could, they still acted like they haven’t seen each other for years. That’s what happens when you let them share a room when they were younger. It wasn’t a bad thing though. Not at all. 
It wasn’t too early. Maybe about midday so it was a little warmer, but that didn’t stop me from worrying about the little ice cube in my palm that was shivering. Was he just sensitive to the cold? It would make sense. Not even Angela was, but then again she was wearing a thicker jacket. I slightly cupped my hand a little more, watching him adjust his position and bundle up a little more. My heart fell, I wish I could help more, but I was scared that he’d freak out again if I did anything more. The last thing I wanted was for him to be uncomfortable. 
“We’re almost there. You okay?” I asked worriedly, passing by some people on the sidewalk that seemed to be coming back from shopping themselves. A lot of them were carrying bags and wrapping paper. So people had the same idea as us.  
Nathan nodded his head, a slight smile on his face. Just a two more blocks. I looked back, seeing that Dylan was holding one of Isabelle’s hands and smirking right at me. Lucky was on his shoulder, and I’m guessing he was doing the exact same thing. I raised an eyebrow, making them both laugh. I rolled my eyes, turning to the huge parking lot coming into view. Surprisingly enough, there weren’t many cars. I guess it was a good thing we came relatively early. 
As soon as I entered the store, I was hit with warm air, slightly making it hard to breath for the split second I was under the heater. I stared down at Nathan, who looked relieved, but he still felt like an ice cube in my hand. Just give him some time. He looked like he was doing better already. A small smile involuntarily formed on my face. 
“Sooo it’s only Lucky and I picking out gifts today?” Dylan walked beside me. 
“Well yeah. If Isabelle and Angela want to get some things too.” I shrugged my shoulders, walking over to the sitting area where the small deli stand was. There weren’t too many people here, and I was just kind of here to make sure everything would be okay. I needed to get gifts too, but I just need to go pick them up when the order is done.  
“Alright. We won’t be long.” Dylan grabbed Isabelle’s hand again, asking her and Angela if they wanted to go pick out gifts for everyone. I laughed when they both cheered. Meanwhile, I let Nathan down on the table. It took him a while to catch his balance, but he just sat back down on the table instead of the human-sized table on top. It’s not like I minded though. We’ve shared a desk together since the start of school anyways. 
“Feeling better?” I asked, holding my head up with one of my hands. 
“Y-yeah,” He stuttered, playing with his hands, “Why’d you w-want me to come a-anyways?” 
I shrugged my shoulders, “Why not? You could have said no if you didn’t want to come.” 
He thought about his response for a bit, “Thank you.”  
I was a bit surprised. Why was he thanking me? What did I do for him? Get him out of the house? I was about to ask what for, but I wasn’t going to. He probably has his reasons. Whatever’s going on in his mind I guess. But I could say I was grateful that he said yes. I would have probably just been on my phone while waiting for Lucky and Dylan to pick out gifts. It gets boring. 
Crowds of people were leaving and some were entering. Every time someone had passed by us I couldn’t help but notice Nathan inch closer to me. Right. It’s been a while since we’ve really hung out I forgot he doesn’t really do well when other people are near him for whatever reason. I used my free hand to hide him from everyone’s sights. Maybe he’s just reticent. It wouldn’t be shocking. No offense! 
“Um, what are you doing for Christmas?” I tried taking his mind off of whatever was going on in there. He slightly flinched, then shook his head like I had just brought him back to reality, “Ah, um, reading? We… We don’t r-really do Christmas. Just hand each other gifts and th-that’s it.” He smiled like that’s normal. Then again, as far as I know it was only him and his mom. Still, it must be pretty sad that the doesn’t really celebrate. 
“That’s it?” I looked at him sadly as he nodded his head. Usually we just kind of decorate together, which was why I hadn’t even set up the tree yet, but then Dylan and I make dinner, and we just open gifts. It’s not like this big thing though. It used to be when my parents were still here. 
“If you want to you can celebrate with us. You don’t need to get us gifts or anything either.” I offered, making him laugh. A confused look was plastered on my face before he explained, “I kinda… already have g-gifts for you all.” 
I blinked a few times. That I was not expecting. When? Why? Why did he get us all gifts? He didn’t have to. Now I kind of feel bad that he actually spent money on us. Did he get one for everyone? I think he did. 
“Huh? W-why?” I was at a loss for words. Of course I bought him something, and I really hoped he liked it, but now I have to worry if it’ll be equal to whatever he bought for me. My initial plan was to surprise him with it, but apparently he had the same idea. I just hoped that it wasn’t anything crazy expensive because then I’d really feel bad. 
“You’ve all b-been really nice to m-me,” He started, “Oh yeah! I still d-don’t have anything for Dylan. D-do you mind helping me?” 
“I mean, yeah of course, b-but how did you even…?” I was confused. How did he get presents if he’s… vertically challenged. Our size difference limits us a lot so how did he even buy gifts if they’d be fifty times bigger than himself? Even we struggle with that which explains why we all go Christmas shopping at different times with Lucky since Angela can’t walk into a human-sized store by herself. 
“I haven’t b-bough them yet. I actually need y-your help with that too.” He laughed nervously. Now that makes more sense. I just nodded, smiling. Nathan was too good of a friend for me. I wasn’t expecting anything honestly. I would definitely give him a hug if I didn’t think he’d be afraid. 
——————
I gave Nathan a list of everything Dylan was into, even the embarrassing stuff that only his family knows about, but I trust Nathan not to tell anyone. Eventually he found something and sent it to me to make sure. It was a poster of one of his favorite actors, signed and everything apparently. Dylan absolutely loves watching movies. Even the old ones made thirty years before he was even born. I don’t know where Nathan found that at, but oh my gosh if all the gifts are like that I am going to feel so bad that mine won’t even be comparable to his. 
Right on time, Dylan and all of them came back with bags in their hands. We all left and walked back to our house. Like I said, today was a good day. 
———Nathan———
Today really was a good day. I have no idea why I had thought that hits morning, but obviously it wasn’t lying to me. It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with Ryker, so of course I said yes to his invitation. Before I left my mom just whispered for me to go, like she was going out to do something as well. I knew she took off work today as well so obviously something was happening there. But I completely forgot about it while I was at Ryker’s house. 
It was already getting late. The sun just barely peaking out over the horizon. There was a light snow outside, covering the already frosted ground outside. It was nice and warm inside, with the heater on and slightly blowing right on me. I was snuggled up near the windowsill in the living room, blanket on top of me and staring outside watching the sun go down. Ryker was helping his siblings wrap gifts, so it was just me for now. It was surprisingly quiet except for the faint crinkling of wrapping paper. 
The front door opened wide, letting in cold air that slightly stung my face. I peaked my head around the wall that obstructed my view, seeing a girl with long, curly black hair with a few dark purple streaks walk into the house, carrying a two bags and a uniform that looked like it belonged to a gas station. I guess Jasmine was working or something? Either way, I pressed myself up father into the corner, trying not to be seen by her. She scares me. Even if Lucky said she’s a lot nicer than she’s been to me, I don’t exactly think she’ll ever like me. 
“Ry! I’m home!” She screamed from across the house. I stayed under the blanket, staying hidden. I have a feeling the second she sees me she’ll start asking questions or threaten me. Luckily, she didn’t see me, and instead headed off to her room, soon followed by the sound of the shower starting. 
Ryker walked back into the room, grabbing something off from a table and leaving again. Then everyone had started bringing in the now wrapped presents and placing them on the on the floor. Ryker came back with a box and set it down beside the couch. I forced myself to crawl a bit closer to see what they were doing. Setting up a Christmas tree. I’m guessing they had the ornaments in the box too. 
“Alright, you guys go crazy.” Ryker laughed, opening up the box and walking to the couch by the windowsill I was currently sitting down at. He sat down, sighing and turned to check on me. I flashed a smile, earning one back. 
I watched as Dylan set up the tree for everyone while Isabelle quickly grabbed some white streamers and draped all over the tree messily. My attention was turned to the still form on the couch next to me. Ryker’s chest slowly fell and rose, his eyes closed and covered up in the blanket. He looked comfortable… 
Was he asleep? Probably. I would too if I had to keep up with this many people. Was it hard? Well no duh, Nathan. He always looks tired when he’s at school. Should I leave now then? I didn’t want to wake him up when I had to go. I would feel terrible. Actually, now would be a great time to ask Dylan about getting Ryker an extra gift in case he won’t like the one I have for him. The only problem is mustering up the courage to even talk to him. Alone. I think it’d be fine though. It’s only for a little bit until I can eventually make this. 
It took them around twenty minutes to place all of their ornaments on the tree, but they did. None of them dared to wake up Ryker after they were done either. Jasmine walked into the room, dressed up in white sweatpants and a sweater. She walked up to Ryker, rolling her eyes with a smile on her face before she noticed me. Her smile disappeared as she glared at me. I sank back, burying myself in the blanket. What did I do to her? 
She averted her attention to the tree, smiling and talking with both Isabelle and Angela. Thanking them for helping with the tree and then continued to play around with Angela in her hands. No wonder she threatened me so much when she had to watch Angela leave. Jasmine was really attached to her. Kind of like my mom. 
“Boo!” I physically jumped, my heart racing from the scare. I looked behind me, seeing Lucky laughing, nearly choking. Dylan was also laughing, but I just smiled. Where did he even come from? 
“Oh my gosh you should have seen your face!” Dylan let out a hand for me to help me get on my feet. It took me a while to balance myself from sitting down for so long, but I managed. 
“You want to get out of here for a bit?” Lucky asked just as soon as Dylan offered an open palm. I stared at it, wide-eyed. I really only trust Ryker to hold me, but I guess this won’t be so bad. 
“Sure.” Lucky grabbed my wrist as we walked on, and for the first time in my life I didn’t trip and fall on my face embarrassingly. Okay, so I had help this time but one day I’ll be able to do it on my own. Hopefully. Or maybe I won’t even have to. 
Dylan took us to his room, where there were tons of posters of games and a little tv stand with a shelf full of some books that he probably needed for school and some games along with VHS tapes. I was honestly really surprised by the place. I don’t know why expected there to be sporty things like weights and basketballs. Y’know. What athletes have. 
There was a bedside dresser with a few human-sized things on it which I was guessing was Lucky’s temporary room. I was guessing these two just shared a room since his other room wasn’t at all filled with things. Just a few clothes and a dresser. I’m guessing everything else was here. 
Lucky and I were set down on the dresser while Dylan sat down on his bed. Lucky gave me a short tour of his own little room before letting me sit down on his bed while he sat in a chair. It was quiet for a second before Jasmine’s voice screamed from the other room, “Lucky!” 
He groaned in response while Dylan snickered, letting lucky onto the floor. It was just the two of us now. I waited until I saw Lucky leave before trying my hardest to calm down before I had a actually tried to talk to Dylan by myself. I could when there were people around. What’s so different this time? I had no one to save me if I said the wrong thing. 
“Oh hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you what you got Ryker for Christmas. Lucky told me you had something good.” Dylan spoke first, a grin on his face. Well I already told Lucky, so if I don’t tell Dylan he’ll just end up telling him. There was no point in hiding it. 
“C-concert tickets.” I answered, hoping he could hear. I was guessing he did by the reaction. His eyes went wide and his jaw slightly opened wide in shock. 
“That one band he’s absolutely crazy for?” 
I nodded my head. Not the way I would word it. I actually kind of find it funny how much Ryker loves that band. I forgot the name, but he’ll remind me when I show him the tickets. 
“Oh my gosh he’s gonna to go crazy.” Dylan laughed. Does that mean he’ll like it? If that’s so then I don’t need to ask for help. This makes my life so much easier. I’m so glad I don’t have to ask for any favors. It’s not exactly a grate first impression to immediately ask for something. I let out a sigh of relief.
——————
I didn’t leave the house until about an hour after Ryker woke up. It was close to midnight, but it’s not like I’m some little kid who has a bed time. Heck, we don’t even have school tomorrow so it really didn’t matter. 
When I arrived home, my mom was asleep on the couch, the tv playing The Golden Girls per usual and the blanket halfway on the ground. I smiled to myself, pulling the blanket over her and turning up the heater. She was freezing. I headed to my room, grabbed a pair of clothes, took an extremely hot shower, and buried myself under the blankets. Things were going great. Maybe life really didn’t hate me all that much. 
———Ryker———
It was Christmas Day. The day everyone was waiting for. Especially Angela and Isabelle who woke me up at six in the morning to wish everyone in the house a merry Christmas. I admit, I was just the slightest bit annoyed, but that was because I went to bed late at night cleaning up and setting up gifts. I also had to take out some food to defrost for later. 
This morning was a huge mess. Even if we weren’t really doing anything until later, I still had to go pick up a few things before. The day before I helped Nathan with the gifts he had bought, which by the way he ordered online (I don’t know how I didn’t think about this sooner) I wrapped the one’s I could while he wrapped the other two that belonged to Lucky and Angela. I was honestly surprised at how thoughtful he was. He even bought one for Jasmine and I know for a fact that Jasmine would absolutely love it. Although she doesn’t like to admit it, she absolutely loves stuffed animals. I just don’t know how he even knew. Was he just guessing? Then I also noticed that he was hiding mine from me. I wondered what it could be, but I would find out later today. 
I also had to go pick him up today, but that wasn’t my priority right now. I planned on going early in the morning, but the snow was coming down pretty heavy so I had to wait. I wouldn’t have minded heading out there, it’s just I didn’t want to get sick. I rarely do, but when it does happen, it’s terrible. So now it was almost four in the afternoon, only about two hours before all the stores started closing. Just barely making it in time to go pick up the cake Jasmine had ordered. Why she didn’t get it herself? I had zero idea. I would have made her get it if she hadn’t been half asleep. 
Once in the store, the sweet smell of strawberry and chocolate filled my nose. Curse my sweet tooth. Where did she even find this place at? It was like in the middle of nowhere, yet it looked so nice inside and smelled delicious. A woman walked up to the counter, her apron dressed in icing and batter. 
“Hi! Did you have an order?” She smiled, ready to tap away at the screen in front of her. 
“Oh, um, I think it’s under the name Jasmine?” I replied, not being able to take my eyes off of the amazing looking cookies that were displayed. 
“Yup! Let me just go get the box.” She left the room. Jasmine purposely made me come get this. She was doing something at home, and she thought she could distract me. Damn it it’s working. 
The woman came back with a white box and typed something in the computer before l grabbed the box, and I guess she saw me looking at the displays because she just laughed, “I’ll give you a small box for free. How’s that sound?” 
“Yes please.” I almost immediately replied, laughing along with her. I swear if Jasmine makes fun of me for this when I get home… I was handed another small box while I thanked the lady and left. 
When I walked in the house, Jasmine was waiting right at the front door, a huge smirk on her face. I glared at her. 
“Why the extra box?” She could barely hold in her snicker. I rolled my eyes, “Shut up. You’re not getting any.” I stuck my tongue out immaturely, while she tried reaching for the extra box I was holding just above my head. She gave up about two minutes later, snatching the cake from my hands and muttering something as she made her way to the kitchen. 
I looked at the time, reading six thirty already. Now would be a good time to go quickly pick up Nathan. I gave him a quick text, placed the box of cookies in my room, and went back out. 
——————
It only took me about half an hour to walk over there and back. Everyone knew Nathan was coming, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited. I mean, he’s never had a real Christmas according to him, so I’m glad I can at least give him the opportunity. Even if we aren’t family or anything, I think it’s a nice change of things. Plus, afterwards the younger ones go to bed while the rest of us stay up a little longer and go to our separate rooms. Really I was the only one alone because Jasmine falls asleep almost immediately. Nathan was actually staying the night, and not in the human accommodating house. I didn’t want him to be alone so I had offered to make a little space for him in my room. He agreed. 
So now we were at the house, Nathan sitting down in my room away from the chaos happening. I was cooking, Dylan clearing the middle of the living room for later, Jasmine keeping the little ones busy, Lucky was taking a shower. Things were going great surprisingly enough. This was only the second time time we’ve celebrated without our parents, so I was expecting something to happen, but everyone seemed happy. The first time was hard for us, and we barely even wanted to celebrate, but it’s what our parents would have wanted, so we kept on going. 
The food was relatively done, I just needed to go get some plates and get everyone in here. I went to my room, finding Nathan sitting on the makeshift bed I made out of some soft cloth I cut off of one my hoodies. What? I don’t used that one anymore. I would have been more than happy to let him on my bed and I sleep on the floor (I’m sure he was terrified just as much as I was about what could happen if we slept on the same bed) but I figured he’d feel bad, so I tried to make it as comfy as possible. 
“Sorry for just leaving you here. I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with the chaos happening in the other room.” I explained, offering a hand. He shook his head, stepping on and falling forward yet again. He’ll get it at some point. Hopefully. 
“It’s fine.” He replied, groaning as he sat back up. 
Lucky was already making the three of them a plate. I don’t really know where he learned how to do it, but he just did. I wasn’t complaining. It was less work for me anyways. As soon as everyone had their plate, we ate around the coffee table, laughing and sometimes messing around with one another. Jasmine had brought up the cookies again before I lightly slapped her shoulder. 
Once we all finished eating, it was time for presents, which I handed out to everyone. Nathan told me to let everyone know to open the present he gave them last just so he knows how much they would all really like it. I just went along with it, so now everyone was kind of excited. I opened mine, getting one of the hoodies I had shown Jasmine just a few days ago. From Dylan a pair of new headphones since my old ones broke sadly. Lucky bought me some new markers since my old ones were dry. Isabelle and Angela combined their gifts and gave me a little picture frame of both of them (My heart was melting) that I would definitely be placing on the tv stand later. 
It was weird for me since I didn’t have a physical gift from Nathan, and I didn’t really know how to react to that. Just what did he get me? I was so confused, but I waited patiently. I’m sure I’d love whatever it is either way. 
Everyone was done opening their gifts, only left with one. Nathan jumped when all the attention was on him, visibly trembling. I stepped in for him. “Jasmine should go first.” I grinned. She rolled her eyes, grabbing the box I had stuffed the gift in. 
“Like this is gonna be good…” She mumbled. I elbowed her side while Nathan looked down a little sadly. Just wait… 
As soon as she had opened it, her jaw nearly dropped. She glared at me for a split second before turning back to the adorable looking teddy bear. She hates admitting it, but she loves those kinds of things. 
“Okay, maybe you’re not so bad after all.” She smiled at him for the first time ever. 
“My turn!” Isabelle and Angela both opened theirs at the same time, revealing a matching set of clothes. I had to cover my ears from the high pitched squeals. Nathan laughed, covering his ears too. 
Lucky opened his, a game that he’s been wanting for forever. He hugged Nathan, he flinched at the contact, but either way hugged him lightly back. Dylan followed, confused at what his could be before he opened it up all the way and stuttered, struggling to find what to say. 
“H-how did you…” He looked over the me, but I just shrugged and smirked. 
“You are literally the best.” Dylan laughed, folding the paper back up. 
We all laughed, including Nathan who was walking closer to me, waiting on the edge. Was he waiting for something? Oh! I let me hand out, seeing him use my thumb to help him balance so he didn’t embarrass himself in front of everyone. I brought him closer, confused the entire time as he pulled out his phone, and seconds later my own phone going off. He pointed at his as I hurried to pull mine out, and nearly dropped my phone when I saw the pictures he sent. 
“You’re kidding, right?” I felt my face heat up slightly, watching him shake his head and laugh a bit. I did a double take before covering my mouth with my free hand. 
“Told you he’d love it!” Dylan smiled. 
I absolutely do yes. 
“I-I, um, wasn’t sure if you’d like it.” 
“Are you kidding? This is literally the best thing you could have ever given me.” I laughed, trying my hardest to hide the blush on my face, but it was too late because everyone was laughing except for Angela and Isabelle. Including me. Oh my gosh this was so much better than my gift to him. How was I even going to compare to his? 
I looked to Lucky, who nodded his head and grabbed it really quickly before I even let Nathan back onto the table. Lucky handed it to him and pointed at me. Nathan started opening it, stopping halfway as he tried to figure out what it was. It wasn’t anything too special. Just a picture frame of the two of us. A picture we had taken a long time ago when we had to share classes. The same day that we hung out together for the first time. 
“It’s not anything special. I’m not the best at picking gifts, but I hope you like it.” 
I was surprised when he hugged it close to his chest and looked like he was about to cry. 
“Awww.” Lucky joked around. I couldn’t help but notice the slight blush on his cheeks. He loved it. 
We cleaned up, had the younger kids go to sleep and Jasmine. Dylan and Lucky were in their room watching a movie, while my door was closed along with my curtains. The only light was coming from the dim lamp I had on my desk. I let Nathan down on the nightstand. We were both changed into something more comfortable. So now it was just the two of us. 
“I can’t believe you bought me tickets.” I exasperated, still in shock. 
“Well yeah. You’re really nice to me, help me out a whole lot.” 
I turned to face him, a slight smile on my face, “Really? I feel like you’re the one always helping me.” He nodded his head. It went silent for a bit before I decided to break it, “Are you tired?” Honestly, I was exhausted, but I was willing to keep Nathan company until he fell asleep. 
“Mmm… yeah.” He replied, already under a blanket. I chuckled lightly, gettin under my own, “Good night then.” 
“Good night, Ryker.” I heard him reply. I’ve rarely heard him say my name before, and I don’t know why my face started heating up. 
Four days later.
———Nathan———
Everything was going so great. The Christmas party at Ryker’s was amazing. Even the few days before that it was great just the be with everyone. My mom was happy, I was happy. Life was finally turning around for me. For the first time in years I finally felt like I could actually have a normal life. I had friends, I was going to graduate in five months. Everything was looking all up for me. 
So why did it get flipped back around? 
My mom and I were just going to go buy fireworks. Just the small ones. Nothing too huge. That’s all we wanted. This was really the only thing we truly celebrated together since it marked the start of the a new year. It marked that we could restart our lives over again. We loved watching the many colors paint the sky. That’s all we wanted. And we couldn’t have it. 
We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time I guess? Because everyone just acted like nothing had happened. That everything was going to be fine and okay. But it wasn’t. Nothing was “fine and okay.” I had really thought that maybe my life was finally turning around for the better just like my mom’s had, but no. I can never have anything nice just once. Just once I wanted something nice. And I couldn’t have it. Just like the fireworks we couldn’t have. 
The store we were shopping at was relatively empty. Only a few people here and there. The only thing about it was that it was really close to the giant part of the city. That was all we were wary about. But we brushed it off. After all, we would only be there for about an hour then head back home. 
“Ooo these look nice, right?” My mom picked up a tiny pack. I smiled, holding out the basket I was holding and let her place it in along with the two other tiny packs we had. We had continued looking, not at all aware of the large tremors that only grew more and more. And neither did the other people in the store. We all had just thought it was some unaware giant walking across the street. If only that were true. 
The next thing we know, there’s screaming outside, we heard people fighting, we were rushed outside so we didn't get hurt, but we shouldn’t have ran outside. Two giants were fighting right in the open. Brutally at that. One had a very muscular build while the other was built, but not as muscular as the guy on top of him, laying punches in the face. People tried to break up the fight, but it only grew worse, and soon enough, the giants decided to bring humans into it. The one that was being pouched in the face continuously had tried to reach practically anything he could, and that just so happened to be a human-sized tree from a nearby park. Right where my mom was standing dialing 911. 
I mean, what are the chances of that? It seemed like a made up lie, but it wasn’t. Trust me, I’ve tried my hardest to convince myself that it wasn’t real, that there was no way my mom would just be standing there and it just so happens that the giant would try reaching for the tree right next to her. Hah! It was ridiculous, right? I only wished I wasn’t telling the truth. 
I stood in fear as I heard her scream at the top of her lungs while in the giant’s fist which was also holding the huge tree that looked minuscule in his hand. I couldn’t move. My mom was there. Getting hurt. And all I could do was stand and watch. 
Eventually help did come, all the other humans had gone away except for the few that actually cared about what happened with my mom. I knew I was, because as soon as the paramedics came to see how she was doing, I nearly started sobbing in front of so many people. I’ve seen her like this before. She’ll be okay. Just let her heal for a few weeks and she can come back home. Right? I wish that were true. I wish that we hadn’t even decided to go to that stupid store. I wished that she was standing right next to me. But she wasn’t. And now everything I’ve worked so hard to build up here in this city is just taken away. 
I stayed at the hospital, right next to my mom’s limp and weak body. The doctors were trying their hardest to keep her from… you can probably guess. Five broken ribs, a broken leg, and internal bleeding. I’m also pretty sure the doctor’s were hiding something from me, but I don’t know. She couldn’t breath well, and she winces every time she tries to move. Every time she wakes up she tells me to go home and get some rest. I tell her that I wasn’t leaving until she would be able to come home with me. 
Today was no different. She would wake up, struggle to sit up, and eat her breakfast while I stayed sitting on the little bench. The doctor’s let me stay the night. I guess they felt bad or something? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t leaving her here. My phone would go off at least two times a day. It was always Ryker. I’m guessing he had heard what had happened, but I really didn’t feel like talking. Not now when this was when my mom needed me most. 
“You should…. Eat…. Hon.” She had to take a few breaths between each word, which worried me, but the doctor’s would help with that. I believed it. 
“I’m okay mom. Don’t worry about me.” My voice was light and tired. I didn’t feel hungry, but I knew my body was. I hadn’t eaten since the day she came here which was about three days ago. School starts tomorrow, but they called and said I didn’t have to come back until two weeks.  
I refused to cry over this. If I did, then it would show that I’d given up. Mom always hated to see me cry. So I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to anyways since she would be coming back home with me. 
My phone started going off again. Everyday at exactly nine and six Ryker would call, and I would let it ring until he was sent to voicemail. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to eat. I didn’t want to do anything but stay here with my mom and make sure she gets better. If she doesn’t then I don’t know what I would do. 
“Maybe… you should… talk to him.” She wheezed. I shook my head, “I don’t feel like talking to anyone.” 
“He’s worried, Nate. Just… promise me… you’ll talk to him?” I thought about it for a second before nodding my head. I was already hanging onto a promise her and I made all those years ago. 
——————
“Mom!” 
“Yes, Nate?” 
“Do you promise to stay with me for forever?” I hung onto the hem of her tattered dress. 
“Of course.” She smiled down at me.
——————
She had to keep that promise. She’s all I have left. Dad was already gone… I didn’t want to lose her too. 
“Honey, go get some breakfast. For me, please?” She had begged, and I just couldn’t say no. I walked over to the door, and told I would be back. 
———Ryker———
What happened three days ago was heartbreaking. At first I didn’t believe it. That’s a really big stretch, but it happened. How do I know? Because I’ve been calling and calling Nathan, and he doesn’t answer. It’s almost like he doesn’t wan tot talk, but then again I did the same with my own siblings after our parents passed away. I pushed them away and locked myself in my room. That’s what was happening with Nathan. 
I had heard his mom was in the hospital, still healing, and I really do hope that she would be okay. Her and Nathan. It’s going to break Nathan if she… y’know. 
Everyday I call him twice, he never answered. I understood why. I couldn’t be mad at him. The same thing happened to me. I pushed everyone away, and I only pulled myself together when I realized that they were also hurting. They helped me out like they did each other and now look at us. Back to some-what normal. Not to mention that they didn’t know how to cook or clean. 
I groaned, leaning back in my desk chair while looking at my phone. I felt terrible. All I wanted to do was to try and help him out as much as I could. I would give him anything he needed. I know how bad it gets, and I would hate to see him like that. 
My phone was going off, and I was surprised to see that Nathan was actually calling me back. I quickly picked up my phone and clicked the green phone button. 
“Oh my gosh Nathan! Are you okay? I-I heard what happened and-“ 
“This is Ryker, right?” It was a raspy woman’s voice. His mom.
“Oh, y-yes ma’am.” My hands were shaking, my heart racing. I don’t know why. 
“I-I’m sorry to ask… you of this but… can you do something… for me?” I covered my mouth, my heart throbbing. She sounded terrible. How could Nathan still be there and listen to his own mother like this? I couldn’t if I was him. Oh Nathan… 
“Anything!” 
I heard her lightly chuckle, “Just make sure… Nate doesn’t do anything bad… please? H-he’s really not… doing good.” 
“Of course.” I would imagine he wouldn't be doing too good. 
“Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome.” 
She hung up. 
I threw my phone on my bed, worried about what Nathan was even doing. I really am worried about him. So is nearly all of my siblings. Including Jasmine. I really wanted to talk to him. But I don’t think he’s going to school for the next couple of weeks. How do I know? Because I have the exact same message from the school. Also with a small note from Mrs. Kay saying that I should be there for him. Why wouldn’t I? I’m not a fake friend. I just hoped Nathan would call me eventually. 
———Nathan———
She wasn’t getting any better. Actually, I think she was getting worse. The doctor’s increased the amount of pain meds for her, and nearly everyday they have to do an emergency procedure because she couldn’t breath right. That’s when I received the news that she had a punctured lung, which explains why she couldn’t breath properly. But that wasn’t good news. There was none. Anything I had heard was something that was wrong with her. 
It was evening now, I was reading a book while she had the channel turned on to The Golden Girls. Everything was peaceful until she had a fit of coughs, and eventually the heart monitor was beeping fast. The doctors rushed in, and I could hear her struggle to breath again. 
“Mom!” I yelled, watching as they had rushed her down the hallway. 
“I love you, Nate.” She formed a weak smile right before they shut the door on me to the procedure room. 
——————
I came back home after a week of staying in the hospital on that uncomfortable bench. I had a bag over my shoulder, and stood in the empty living room. It was quiet. You could only hear the faint sounds of crickets outside in the dark. I headed to my room, turned on the lamp in my room, and laid down in my bed, holding the old teddy bear up against my chest. 
She was gone. 
Tears formed in my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. And I didn’t. She wouldn’t want to see me like that. She would say that there was no reason to cry. But there was. I had no one now. Just myself. What would I do now? I sucked in a shaky breath, falling asleep and hoping that all of those was just some sick nightmare. 
When I woke up the next morning, it was quiet still. I stood up, changed my clothes and headed to the living room, where no one was sitting down watching tv. I headed to my mom’s room, finding her bed messy. She always makes sure it’s made before leaving the house. 
So it really wasn’t a nightmare. 
I wasn’t hungry. At least I didn’t feel hungry. I had only eaten that one day, and even then all I had was half a muffin. It’s been about four days since then. I felt that my body was weak, but I didn’t care. There was nothing for me to care about. I had just thought for once second that everything was alright. That everything was going great, and then this happens. It’s just my luck, right? 
My phone was going off. It hasn’t for a while. Ryker was calling again, and I still didn’t really feel like talking to anyone. Of course I realized that he was just trying to check up on me, but I really wasn’t up to the task. I wasn’t even up to the task of making myself something to eat, so what makes anyone think I could hold a conversation. 
It was cold in the house, so I just grabbed a blanket and bundled myself up on the couch. The tv was on in the background. It was usually on, and I was so used to it playing something while I was in my room reading or taking a nap. What was I supposed to do with my life now? There really was no meaning if I didn’t have anyone anymore. Ryker could move on. He didn’t need to worry about me. I was just a temporary friend anyways. 
Why am I thinking like this? 
I can’t believe I fell for a false ending. I thought I could just live a happy life now. Of course whatever bad luck was following me never went away. I could keep wishing all I want, but it wouldn’t bring any of my parents back. I could cry, but it wouldn’t bring them back. No matter how hard it was to keep the tears from falling. They would hate to see me like that. They would also hate to see me alone, but it was hard to choose between the two. 
I don’t want to leave Ryker. 
I groaned, burying my face into my hands. Maybe Ryker would give up on me too if I stayed quiet long enough. He’d eventually stop calling me everyday and find a new friend that was much, much better than me. Then again… I don’t want to lose him too. I really do like him. He’s been nothing but patient and kind to me. This was how I’d be repaying him? I was a horrible person. I would tell him that I’m sorry if I had the guts to. But I don’t. There’s nothing more I want in the world than to just cry and cry and cry, and I couldn’t. 
“I’m trying to keep myself together, mom.” I whispered, stifling back a sob and burying my entire body under the sheets. I felt terrible. I deserve everything that’s happened to me… I’m a horrible person and no one would disagree with me. 
——————
For the next four days I just slept. Off and on. There were some days I would sit outside in the cold and watch as people walked down the street or how many cars went passing by. I’d go back inside, lay down on the couch with my little bear and go to sleep. I didn’t feel like doing anything else, and somehow I woke up the next day feeling even more tired than before. I didn’t know if that was a sign that my body was giving up on me, or if was from the lack of food that I’ve been neglecting to give to my body. I just haven’t been feeling like it. 
Ryker never stopped calling, and each time he did my heart throbbed. Each time he called I had to hold in the tears that were already so hard not to let out. All of a sudden I wanted nothing more than for him to hold me close and keep me warm like he used to. I missed it. I missed him. Which was an odd thing for me to say. I grew too used to him, but was that really a bad thing? It just means it’ll hurt more when he eventually leaves me. He’ll take one good look at me now, and abandon me. Even the slightest mention of the thought was enough for me to not to answer his calls. I wanted to answer so badly. 
Please help me. 
I always repeated in my mind. I still had his gift. The picture of the two of us the first time we ever hung out together. I didn’t realize how small I really was next to him until I saw that photo, but I loved it. I had a real smile on my face. I haven’t been able to do that for a while. 
This morning wasn’t any different, I sat outside for a while until I couldn’t feel my fingers, walked back inside, grabbed a book, and read until I fell asleep. When I woke up, I’d put the tv on, clean up whatever little mess was in the house, and head back outside for a little. I at least like to get a little bit of sunlight everyday. I wasn’t really taking the best care of myself, but I could just do this one little thing. It couldn’t hurt me anymore than I already was. 
Maybe I could walk over to Ryker’s? 
That was an insane thought. There was no way I could do it. Plus, he probably doesn’t even want to see me. He’s called so many times I forgot what number I was at. Why would he want to see me? I really haven’t been the best. At all. Though… I could at least try. I know where he lives. I’ve been there plenty of times to know. I really did want to see him too. 
I grabbed my phone, zipped up my jacket, and started to walk slowly down the sidewalk. It was a long walk just to reach the small gas station that was close by their house. The sun was long gone, it was cold and snowing lightly outside, my face was freezing and my skin stung from the cold, but I kept on going. I was almost there. If he wanted to see me, he’d let me in and I could be warm again, have someone to talk to, finally be comfortable. If he doesn’t, then I’d be left out in the cold and get hypothermia unless I can make it back to my house in time. 
In total, it took me nearly an hour and a half to reach their house. I stared at the huge door in front of me, shivering. This was a bad idea. This could either go really good, or end really badly. I guess there was only one way to find out. 
I grabbed my phone with my shaking, ice-cold hands and called Ryker back. 
———Ryker———
Everyone was gone on some overnight school trip. The entire district. It was to some theme park a couple hours away from here, and I didn’t really feel like attending. Actually, I haven’t even been going to school since I received that message. I’ve been hanging onto hope that Nathan would eventually answer one of my calls. He never did. 
So now, here I was, watching a movie by myself in the living room. It was pretty late, but might as well finish off the movie. I was sitting down with a bowl of half-eaten popcorn when my phone started ringing. Probably just one of my siblings- 
It was Nathan. 
I freaked out, quickly pausing the movie and placing the bowl I had on the coffee table in front of me before answering. 
“Hello?” 
It took a while for Nathan to reply, but he did, and I was more than shocked. 
“U-um. C-c-could you o-o-open your d-d-door?” 
He just walked all the way from his house to mine. In the cold. While it was snowing. Of course I hurried to open the door, seeing the small being that was Nathan on my doorstep, shivering. I dropped my phone of the floor, scooping him up into my hand, hearing him let out a tiny squeak before I shut the door behind us. 
I gave him a second to catch his breath, his chest quickly rising up and down. I apologized so many times as I slid down the door. Nathan did not look good at all. He looked skinnier, I could tell he wasn’t really taking care of himself. I waited for him to say something, but he was struggling himself just to find the words. 
I wasn’t mad at him. Not at all. I’ve wanted to see him. I’ve wanted him to say for me to help him. Was this the time? I would do everything I could for him. Starting with making him something to eat since I’m positively sure he hasn’t been eating. I technically made a promise to his mom and I was not about to break it. 
“Did… did you want something to eat?” I whispered. It took him a second to process what I asked him, but he nodded, and I couldn’t tell if he was shivering of trembling in my hand. I stood up slowly, guiding us to the kitchen and tilting my hand on the counter for him to get off. I grabbed a plate of leftovers I made for myself last night and started heating it up in the microwave. I watched with sympathy as he scooted his back up against the paper towels and dug his head into his knees. He felt bad. 
“H-hey look, I promise I’m not mad at all. I understand why you didn’t answer my calls.” I tried to make him feel better. It’s not like I would lie to him. Nathan just shook his head, taking deep breaths to stop himself from crying. I bit the inside of my cheek, hearing the microwave go off. I took out the small container of chicken and rice and worked on making Nathan a small enough plate. I handed him the small pieces, offering a small smile as he took a bite. 
I waited until he was full, seeing that he didn’t really eat much, but it was better than nothing. Then, went over to the living room to turn off the tv. Obviously he wasn’t going home tonight. He was probably exhausted anyways, and I never did get rid of those makeshift accommodations for him. I don’t think he really wants to be alone either. 
“Do you wanna go lie down for a bit?” I asked, my hand palm up and ready for him to climb on. Nathan nodded his head, climbing on and sitting in the middle, a little warmer now. I closed the door to my room and turned on the lamp on my desk. I placed my hand on the nightstand for him to get off, but he didn’t Instead, he shook his head, grabbing as much of my sweater sleeve as he could and hung on tight. My heart fell. He just wanted someone to be there for him, and how could I deny him that? 
I smiled, sitting down up against the head of my bed and just let him stay in my palm. He was hurting, and I couldn’t just leave him like that. That’s when he let go and pointed back to the set up I had on my nightstand. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I don’t mind. I get why you’re upset. I’ve been through the same thing.” His eyes went wide before shaking his head, “It’s not the same thing! I watched the doctors take her away. She said ‘I love you’ right before she went through the doors, and she never came out. She knew she wasn’t going back with me. I had no one waiting for me at home because my dad was also killed right in front of my face! I’ve been depressed and lonely for years, and I had no one. Did you have to watch your own parents die in front of your face? Were you alone after everything happened? No, because you had your siblings to help you!” He covered his mouth as I stared wide-eyed right back at him. He wasn’t wrong. I had people help me. Nathan didn’t. Which was why I wanted to help him. But the next words that came out of his mouth shook me to the core. 
“Please don’t hurt me. I-I’m s-sorry.” 
He brought his knees up to his chest and covered his head with his arms. My heart skipped a beat. He was afraid of me, and that just made me horrified. He never told me what happened to him before he moved here. He never told me why he was so afraid of giants. So, whatever had happened was obviously was affecting how he felt right now. 
“What? No, never little guy. Why would I hurt you?” 
“You’re not mad?” 
I shook my head, “Not at all.” 
I watched as he wiped away loose tears, sniffling them back and scooting closer to me. I braced myself for what I knew what was coming next. 
———Nathan———
Once the tears had started flooding my eyes, there was nothing I could do to stop from crying in front of Ryker now. I bit the side of my cheek so hard the faint taste of blood filled my mouth. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, don’t cry. But my own words didn’t stop the tears from cascading down my face. 
Ryker fixed my position in his palm while I struggled to wipe away the loose tears that were only falling down harder the more I kept thinking about the tragic events that have happened this past month. Why? Why’d she have to leave me here? 
I was full on sobbing at this point. I had buried my face in Ryker’s hoodie to muffle the sounds of my cries. I could hear the faint sound of his heartbeat, I could hear his light breathing. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ryker. Is what I wish I could say to him, but I currently couldn’t 
Something warm pressed me up lightly against Ryker’s chest. I flinched, slightly turning my head to see that the pad of his thumb was offering some kind of comfort. It felt weird to me, but somehow I liked it? I didn’t want him to let go of me, but I was also scared at the same time. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m right here, Nathan.” Ryker whispered softly, noticeably trying to comfort me while I just cried and cried into the fabric of his hoodie. I’m sorry Ryker. I wanted to say it so badly, but I couldn’t. Why did he worry about me so much? I should be at home, alone, crying into my pillow. Why did he want to stay with an insignificant little human whose life somehow gets turned upside down every other month? 
“I’m s-s-sorry.” I managed to say in between sobs. He lightly squeezed me against him before responding, “You’re the one who’s hurt, Nathan. You don’t have to apologize if I’m the one who wants to help you, okay?” 
And I could practically hear the sad smile forming on his face as he continued to offer a comforting presence. 
I quietly kept on crying, grabbing fistfuls of as much fabric as I could while feeling safe up against his chest. Was this what I needed? To be held just like this and cry and cry? It felt so good. I didn’t want Ryker to ever let go of me. The soft, warm touch on my back felt amazing. 
“I-I miss her, Ryker.” I cried in between sobs. 
“I know, I know. It’s alright,” He started lightly rubbing my back, making me slightly shudder, “Do you want me to let you go?” I quickly shook my head, sniffling while tears silently fell down my face. Please don’t ever let me go. I snuggled up closer, closing my eyes. This felt right. Nothing else could make me feel better. 
“You okay?” He asked me. I nodded my head, hearing him chuckle above me. I missed both my parents. So, so much. Nothing could describe just how grateful I was that Ryker didn’t shut me out. I’ve never felt better than right now at this very moment. I don’t know what I would have done. Probably continue to starve myself until I eventually died. That was probably my initial plan, but I doubt that now that I’m with Ryker he’d just let me do that. Heck, the first thing he asks me is if I want something to eat, which I involuntarily nodded to. I felt safe when I was around him. 
Ryker moved, but never moved me. He just laid down and just let me lay down on him. I smiled to myself, closing my eyes and just letting sleep take over me. 
And it felt like the first real sleep I’ve had in ages. 
——————
Please don’t hate me, I was just in an extremely angsty mood TwT. But hey, at least we get some comfort, right? Hahaa… (Please don’t hurt me)
I’m sorry this one took so long, it’s just I wanted to add a whole bunch of wholesome scenes. It was fun and depressing to write this, but everything’s all coming together. (Please don’t mind the many errors I was too tired edit it) Only a few more chapters and it’s done! Thank you guys for sticking with me on this ride, thank you all!
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I’m back with yet another fix-it for TBOSAS! A very simple premise this time:
The district kids aren’t fed in the zoo, and the mentors don’t realize they’re their tributes’ only source of… everything. So despite their best efforts the kids’ performances don’t give them enough to feed everyone (they share what they can, because they’re all kids in the same boat who don’t want anyone to die). They look skeletal by the time the interviews come around, and their appearances remind everyone of the siege from the dark days. Especially the parents, who now see their own kids in these tributes, and it gets a ball rolling where capitolites realize they’re literally doing exactly what they demonize the districts for doing. Except they’re arguably worse because the war is over. They’ve won, there are no ends that may justify these “means”, the war’s already over. The capitol has no reason to do this outside of riding on their power trip to torment those they see as beneath them.
Only a few people are fired up enough to start protesting immediately, but these people encourage and convince others to join in until their numbers are so high not complying would pretty much destroy any chances of re-election for the president. If this is the movieverse, then possibly the president himself is swayed because he starts thinking about what if it was Felix who was standing on that stage, severely malnourished and clearly only conscious through sheer power of will, eyes hopeless and scared and desperate.
Idk I like the idea of complicated capitol people. They’re not monsters, propaganda and “us vs them” is just a hell of a drug. We see it in real life too, where being threatened by (and possibly losing loved ones to) the “other side” makes it easy to write them off as evil, so they deserve what’s being done to them. My main idea here is that the capitol citizens were particularly mad about the innocents who suffered, especially the kids. There’s a righteous fury, which is why seeing the tributes on stage in such a disheveled, dirty, famished state is so hard-hitting. Because the image that made the games “justifiable” is now thrown right in their face in the form of the same people they hold so much disdain for. It’s a wakeup call that they are at best no better than those they despise.
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imperiuswrecked · 1 year
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If I had a nickel for every time a non-canon het ship for Namor went mainstream in the Marvel Fandom and the fans became very annoying about it to the point it’s all anyone ever talks about when that character is brought up because both ships have reduced Namor to the Casanova for their female leads then I would have two nickels which isn’t a lot but it’s annoying that it’s happened twice.
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phantomrose96 · 3 months
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If anyone wants to know why every tech company in the world right now is clamoring for AI like drowned rats scrabbling to board a ship, I decided to make a post to explain what's happening.
(Disclaimer to start: I'm a software engineer who's been employed full time since 2018. I am not a historian nor an overconfident Youtube essayist, so this post is my working knowledge of what I see around me and the logical bridges between pieces.)
Okay anyway. The explanation starts further back than what's going on now. I'm gonna start with the year 2000. The Dot Com Bubble just spectacularly burst. The model of "we get the users first, we learn how to profit off them later" went out in a no-money-having bang (remember this, it will be relevant later). A lot of money was lost. A lot of people ended up out of a job. A lot of startup companies went under. Investors left with a sour taste in their mouth and, in general, investment in the internet stayed pretty cooled for that decade. This was, in my opinion, very good for the internet as it was an era not suffocating under the grip of mega-corporation oligarchs and was, instead, filled with Club Penguin and I Can Haz Cheezburger websites.
Then around the 2010-2012 years, a few things happened. Interest rates got low, and then lower. Facebook got huge. The iPhone took off. And suddenly there was a huge new potential market of internet users and phone-havers, and the cheap money was available to start backing new tech startup companies trying to hop on this opportunity. Companies like Uber, Netflix, and Amazon either started in this time, or hit their ramp-up in these years by shifting focus to the internet and apps.
Now, every start-up tech company dreaming of being the next big thing has one thing in common: they need to start off by getting themselves massively in debt. Because before you can turn a profit you need to first spend money on employees and spend money on equipment and spend money on data centers and spend money on advertising and spend money on scale and and and
But also, everyone wants to be on the ship for The Next Big Thing that takes off to the moon.
So there is a mutual interest between new tech companies, and venture capitalists who are willing to invest $$$ into said new tech companies. Because if the venture capitalists can identify a prize pig and get in early, that money could come back to them 100-fold or 1,000-fold. In fact it hardly matters if they invest in 10 or 20 total bust projects along the way to find that unicorn.
But also, becoming profitable takes time. And that might mean being in debt for a long long time before that rocket ship takes off to make everyone onboard a gazzilionaire.
But luckily, for tech startup bros and venture capitalists, being in debt in the 2010's was cheap, and it only got cheaper between 2010 and 2020. If people could secure loans for ~3% or 4% annual interest, well then a $100,000 loan only really costs $3,000 of interest a year to keep afloat. And if inflation is higher than that or at least similar, you're still beating the system.
So from 2010 through early 2022, times were good for tech companies. Startups could take off with massive growth, showing massive potential for something, and venture capitalists would throw infinite money at them in the hopes of pegging just one winner who will take off. And supporting the struggling investments or the long-haulers remained pretty cheap to keep funding.
You hear constantly about "Such and such app has 10-bazillion users gained over the last 10 years and has never once been profitable", yet the thing keeps chugging along because the investors backing it aren't stressed about the immediate future, and are still banking on that "eventually" when it learns how to really monetize its users and turn that profit.
The pandemic in 2020 took a magnifying-glass-in-the-sun effect to this, as EVERYTHING was forcibly turned online which pumped a ton of money and workers into tech investment. Simultaneously, money got really REALLY cheap, bottoming out with historic lows for interest rates.
Then the tide changed with the massive inflation that struck late 2021. Because this all-gas no-brakes state of things was also contributing to off-the-rails inflation (along with your standard-fare greedflation and price gouging, given the extremely convenient excuses of pandemic hardships and supply chain issues). The federal reserve whipped out interest rate hikes to try to curb this huge inflation, which is like a fire extinguisher dousing and suffocating your really-cool, actively-on-fire party where everyone else is burning but you're in the pool. And then they did this more, and then more. And the financial climate followed suit. And suddenly money was not cheap anymore, and new loans became expensive, because loans that used to compound at 2% a year are now compounding at 7 or 8% which, in the language of compounding, is a HUGE difference. A $100,000 loan at a 2% interest rate, if not repaid a single cent in 10 years, accrues to $121,899. A $100,000 loan at an 8% interest rate, if not repaid a single cent in 10 years, more than doubles to $215,892.
Now it is scary and risky to throw money at "could eventually be profitable" tech companies. Now investors are watching companies burn through their current funding and, when the companies come back asking for more, investors are tightening their coin purses instead. The bill is coming due. The free money is drying up and companies are under compounding pressure to produce a profit for their waiting investors who are now done waiting.
You get enshittification. You get quality going down and price going up. You get "now that you're a captive audience here, we're forcing ads or we're forcing subscriptions on you." Don't get me wrong, the plan was ALWAYS to monetize the users. It's just that it's come earlier than expected, with way more feet-to-the-fire than these companies were expecting. ESPECIALLY with Wall Street as the other factor in funding (public) companies, where Wall Street exhibits roughly the same temperament as a baby screaming crying upset that it's soiled its own diaper (maybe that's too mean a comparison to babies), and now companies are being put through the wringer for anything LESS than infinite growth that Wall Street demands of them.
Internal to the tech industry, you get MASSIVE wide-spread layoffs. You get an industry that used to be easy to land multiple job offers shriveling up and leaving recent graduates in a desperately awful situation where no company is hiring and the market is flooded with laid-off workers trying to get back on their feet.
Because those coin-purse-clutching investors DO love virtue-signaling efforts from companies that say "See! We're not being frivolous with your money! We only spend on the essentials." And this is true even for MASSIVE, PROFITABLE companies, because those companies' value is based on the Rich Person Feeling Graph (their stock) rather than the literal profit money. A company making a genuine gazillion dollars a year still tears through layoffs and freezes hiring and removes the free batteries from the printer room (totally not speaking from experience, surely) because the investors LOVE when you cut costs and take away employee perks. The "beer on tap, ping pong table in the common area" era of tech is drying up. And we're still unionless.
Never mind that last part.
And then in early 2023, AI (more specifically, Chat-GPT which is OpenAI's Large Language Model creation) tears its way into the tech scene with a meteor's amount of momentum. Here's Microsoft's prize pig, which it invested heavily in and is galivanting around the pig-show with, to the desperate jealousy and rapture of every other tech company and investor wishing it had that pig. And for the first time since the interest rate hikes, investors have dollar signs in their eyes, both venture capital and Wall Street alike. They're willing to restart the hose of money (even with the new risk) because this feels big enough for them to take the risk.
Now all these companies, who were in varying stages of sweating as their bill came due, or wringing their hands as their stock prices tanked, see a single glorious gold-plated rocket up out of here, the likes of which haven't been seen since the free money days. It's their ticket to buy time, and buy investors, and say "see THIS is what will wring money forth, finally, we promise, just let us show you."
To be clear, AI is NOT profitable yet. It's a money-sink. Perhaps a money-black-hole. But everyone in the space is so wowed by it that there is a wide-spread and powerful conviction that it will become profitable and earn its keep. (Let's be real, half of that profit "potential" is the promise of automating away jobs of pesky employees who peskily cost money.) It's a tech-space industrial revolution that will automate away skilled jobs, and getting in on the ground floor is the absolute best thing you can do to get your pie slice's worth.
It's the thing that will win investors back. It's the thing that will get the investment money coming in again (or, get it second-hand if the company can be the PROVIDER of something needed for AI, which other companies with venture-back will pay handsomely for). It's the thing companies are terrified of missing out on, lest it leave them utterly irrelevant in a future where not having AI-integration is like not having a mobile phone app for your company or not having a website.
So I guess to reiterate on my earlier point:
Drowned rats. Swimming to the one ship in sight.
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lale-txt · 27 days
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❥ falling asleep besides you for the first time ↳ w/ Toji, Naoya, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Higuruma, Sukuna & Choso
a/n: this came over me like a fever dream during another episode of insomnia. some of those drabbles are a little sad, i apologize. it's what you get with all those tragics characters. reader is gn!
word count: 1.4k
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𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t even want to fall asleep; it’s not like he had a good night of rest ever since… well. He tells himself he’s just gonna close his eyes for a bit, stretched out on the couch next to you, his weary head in your lap. There’s still blood on his hands and on the side of his face, he’s gonna get cleaned up in just a bit, he mumbles, but the words come out heavy and drowsy, and your fingers are tangled in his hair now and your voice is this sweet whisper, baby, I love you anyway, and Toji–Toji just gives in. For the first time, sleep doesn’t come over him as a heavy veil, as if he’s drowning; for once it’s something peaceful, something quiet. Something he welcomes. Next to you, you with your fingers woven between his, you who loves even the broken parts of him, you with quiet love and reassurance that you’re still gonna be there when he wakes up again.
𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀 hasn’t had another warm body next to him under the covers in a long time. He doesn’t realize how much he missed this until your body melts into his, one leg swung over his thighs, your arm sneaking around his waist and your head finding its spot in the crook of his neck. His cheek falls softly against your forehead when he pulls you closer, breathing in the scent of you that’s the closest to home he ever felt, pressing kisses on the crown of your head. It’s not just lust–oh, he wants to devour you, but there’ll be time in the morning–it’s the absence of loneliness and unspoken confessions. Higuruma can tell when he’s falling in love and in this moment he’s wading deep, deeper through his feelings for you, biting his tongue so they don’t spill out all over the pillows and into you. You already know anyway, and when the sun comes up again, you’ll lick them from the cave of his mouth like a prayer.
𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀 can’t fall asleep, not on his wedding night, not when your mouth is whispering all those words he’s demanding from you. His cheek is pressed against your palm while he’s pinning you down, almost nuzzling into it like a touch-starved stray, golden eyes lingering on you. Say you’re mine. Again. Say who you belong to. Mine. Mine. All mine. He isn’t aware how pleading he sounds, how raspy his voice gets the more you obey, every time you sigh his name so softly into his open mouth. Naoya doesn’t care if you’re lying, as long as you wear your wedding band on your ring finger for everyone to see. You’re his to keep now, and if he could have it his way, you would be forbidden to leave this bed forever; he wasn’t aware just how much he had craved the presence of another being by his side at night, one who doesn’t leave once he had his share of pleasure. No, you’re his now, and before sleep eventually finds him, he’ll make sure to sink his teeth into you till his name rolls off your tongue like a lullaby. 
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 doesn’t let go of your hand; he’s afraid it’ll go cold if he allows himself to let his guard down even for one second. This isn’t how he had imagined spending the first night with you. Not under the fluorescent lights of the infirmary, not with your body wrapped in gauze and machinery monitoring your heart rate. It dawns on him as he’s sitting on your bedside–how attached he’s gotten to you, then: How he had almost lost you today. He squeezes your hand tighter and sighs, his weary head sinking down on the mattress. Your fingers twitch and find their way into his hair, combing through it weakly. As if they say, it’s okay, I’m alive, you’re not to blame. So please don’t leave and take all your love with you. And Nanami takes your hand once again and kisses your fingertips, pressing promises against your skin, promises of a future where you and him can just be, one where he can finally put all of these feelings down, down in your open and gentle palms for you to keep.
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 is clingy throughout the day, but even more so at night. He doesn’t like the eerie quiet that settles in once the sun has sunken, not when he can listen to your steady breathing next to him instead, so naturally he feels a rush of joy when you push your futons together for the first time. His heart is beating way too fast to find sleep now, his eyes taking in everything about your sleeping figure, from the way your chest rises and falls to how your nose scrunches slightly for a moment. Choso wants to know what you’re dreaming about, what colors your dreams are, and if he’s ever in them. He wants to engrave himself into your being, wants to keep you wrapped in his arms forever. His kisses feel light against your skin, careful not to wake you but enough to fill his desire. Choso loves you with his entire being, and sleep is merely an obstacle, cutting away from your time spent together–though he must admit, his eyes flutter shut quite easily in your embrace.
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 realizes that his idea of ‘sweets in bed’ now has a double meaning, seeing you sprawled out in his sheets with candy wrapping paper clenched between your fist and more of it lying on the floor. Cute, he can’t help but murmur as he lays down next to you on his side, mustering you with an amused smile on his lips. When he told you to knock yourself out on the sweet souvenirs he brought, he didn’t assume you would take it that literally. His thumb brushes over the corner of your mouth, collecting some of the powdered sugar that’s still stuck there, and Gojo could swear he never tasted anything sweeter than this when he brings it to his tongue. He gently replaces the trash you hold onto in your sleep with his fingers, woven between yours, and pulls you close to him, his tall figure embracing you; and for the first time in a long time, Gojo feels a wave of calm wash over him, allowing him to exhale and sink into a dream almost as sweet as you.
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 doesn’t know why he keeps entertaining your antics. Sharing a bed, sleeping together side by side? How utterly foolish, but as to be expected from a mere human; they’ve always been like this, seeking comfort and warmth when they’re the most vulnerable. Of course a predator like Sukuna wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping safe and sound. Yet still; he can’t help but let his gaze linger on you, wrapped up in his embrace, four arms holding you in place on top of him. Everyone else would freeze in fear, but you? You snore quietly without a single worry in the world, knowing you have a king watching over you in your slumber. Sukuna huffs but still brushes a strand of hair out of your face. Maybe he’ll tell Uraume that you’re off the menu, for now. As long as you know your place–in his embrace, wearing his marks with pride, providing a sense of comfort Sukuna had never known before. Fool, he mutters and rests his chin on top of your head, not sure if those words were for him or you. 
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 doesn’t question when you knock on the door of his dorm room, asking for shelter after a particular nightmare. He hasn’t found any sleep yet anyway. When he lifts up the covers for you to slip under, he’s surprised that you don’t even hesitate to do so, wrapping yourself around his body as if it was molded for that only. Geto can tell that you’re trying not to tremble, but the nightmare still lingers. He knows it all too well. His fingers brush through your hair when he pulls you closer to his chest, as if this could prevent you from falling apart–though deep down he’s aware that he might be the one on the verge of breaking. You know it too, don’t you? Geto is tired, oh, so tired. The kind of tired sleep can’t fix, and he can’t help but wonder if this would also be the last time that you’re in his arms, clinging onto someone who is long gone; a version of him that he shed together with his dream of letting himself love you.
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gojorgeous · 4 months
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“heatwaves”
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pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k
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Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 
Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 
But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 
“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 
You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 
You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 
Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…
“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 
When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 
Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 
“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 
You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 
Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 
You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 
You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 
“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 
 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 
“Yes… Thank you.” 
Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”
You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 
“Take care.” 
Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 
You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 
You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?
You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?
You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  
You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 
Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 
Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.
You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 
“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 
Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 
You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 
“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”
You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 
The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 
“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 
“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 
That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”
He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 
“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 
“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.
He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 
But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 
“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 
That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 
You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”
His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”
You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.
That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 
You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”
You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 
You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 
Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 
“N-no–” 
A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 
You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 
Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 
Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 
“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 
His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 
Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 
“‘M following your scent, baby.” 
He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 
You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 
Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 
“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.
Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 
You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 
“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 
“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 
He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 
He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 
You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 
The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 
“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 
His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.
“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 
You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 
You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 
“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 
You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 
Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 
The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 
His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 
Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-
“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 
“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 
You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.
“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 
You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 
“You on birth control, baby?” 
Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…
You shake your head. “N-No…” 
There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 
There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 
“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 
Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 
“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 
His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 
“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 
“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 
Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 
Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 
You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 
Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 
“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”
You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 
“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 
His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 
You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 
His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 
You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.
It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.
You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 
His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 
Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.
His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 
His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 
A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.
There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.
His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 
Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”
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satoruhour · 4 months
Note
You and Gojo making out around Suguru’s dick. 🙏
TWICE THE TROUBLE !
a/n: sorry i took so long to get to this anon i hope this finds its way back to you <3
warnings: poly!stsg, dom!geto, sorta sub!gojo, fem!reader, oral (f and m receiving), masturbation, suguru watches for a while, multiple rounds, use of ‘slut’, cum eating, cum shot, filthy and dirty as hell lol, n*sfw under the cut
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it’s no secret that geto absolutely adored the both of you — whether it be looking at you bickering over whether maple syrup or honey is better for pancakes, or when he’s watching the two of you deep in slumber after getting out to get groceries at dawn to beat the morning crowd. it’s hardly different any other time, too much deep in adoration for his two babies that even fights are done with calculated voices and soft apologies.
and even now — watching how satoru whines for attention from the both of you, pulling gently at your nape to separate your lips from geto. you can feel the latter throb under you when gojo leaps forward to kiss you while you’re still in the other’s lap, feeling his hand leave your waist to trace the line down satoru’s back and right to his ass.
“sugu—” you hear against your lips, moaning something akin to your name after when your hands pull at satoru’s white hair shortly after, “n-need both of you . .”
“patience, satoru,” geto practically purrs, purposely humping his hips up into your cunt that you whine softly, too, grinning at how he’s always got the two of you at his beck and call. he runs the show indefinitely, and you’re both fine with it, heart fluttering when he asks for a favour.
“can you eat her out, baby?” he pleads with gojo, not before leaving you with a sweet kiss that leaves you wanting more and gently detaches himself from you, “let me watch my two pretty lovers, hm?”
you giggle a little at gojo’s eagerness when he nods and takes his place in front of you instead, rushing into a kiss that has you clashing teeth and groaning in pain, but with a small sorry from gojo and kisses down your neck, you’re forgiving him instantly when he finally peels off your soaked panties, groaning to himself at just how wet you were.
at the corner of your eye, you can see suguru stripping himself of his own underwear, stroking slowly at how gojo forces your sensitive legs open to lick a slow stripe up your cunt.
“’toru—” you shut your eyes tight, head tipped back as you put all your weight into your elbows, body naturally crawling away from the other’s skilled tongue from the intensity but satoru takes his time with you, easing you into the pleasure with how slowly he tugs you back to him.
“relax, princess . .” he mumbles, feeling himself get hard just from hearing geto’s hand along his cock, and now, at how he gets to eat your pretty pussy, “let me in, yeah?”
you moan softly just as he sucks on your clit, one hand reaching for his hair and the other for geto’s hand, him barely catching you just as you dig your nails into his forearm, dominant hand stuttering at little at the minor pain. gojo mutters praises into your cunt, slurping up your juices like it’s the very first time he’s eating you out.
“satoru— s’too much—” you writhe within the sheets, rendered warm from the morning sun that filters in and you can already feel your back start to line with sweat at the ecstasy, your boyfriend never stopping his relentless tongue flicking and sucking at your bud.
your other boyfriend watches in amusement and fondness at the two of you; the drop of your mouth and the twitches in your leg, to the subtle humping of satoru’s hips and his downturned eyebrows. satoru is just lost in your pre, making sure every bit of it isn’t lost to the silk sheets that he so impulsively bought for the both of you.
you gasp when your knees are pushed to your chest, left immobilised under gojo’s hand as he loses himself in your folds, tracing his tongue down your slit and right to your hole.
he makes sure to give you what you want when you only pull him more desperately into your core with moans that reach the moon. you’re grateful that at least suguru squeezes and twines his fingers with yours, watching with that damned smile on his face at your falling apart.
“’toru, sugu, i-it’s— i’m c—”
geto laughs, “so fast, doll?”
you burn at the small teasing remark, clenching around satoru’s tongue at the same time and he groans, nudging his nose deeper into your clit. with small jerks in your body and long whines that turn into short pants, they both know you’re close. the other speeds his hand up as well, following gojo’s noisy, sloppy licks along your pussy.
“pussy so sweet, suguru, hope ya can taste her later,” his muffled speech gets the other chuckling, even more so when they see their pretty baby all ruined over their sheets, their groans mixing in with your garbled speech, just whimpering and mumbling any word your foggy brain can think about at the moment.
“yeah? lookin’ forward to it, then.” geto struggles through gritted teeth at the feel of his hand — it would never compare to the both of you, but it’s all he can manage. he did say he wanted to watch and he’s enjoying gojo’s hips humping the sheets now as he focuses on your puffy, sensitive clit.
“she close, ’toru?” gojo’s affirmative moan sends vibrations up your body, sending you into overdrive when geto leans down to meet your lips, releasing your hand to your chin gently to steal your breath. it’s rough, drool dripping from the messiness of it and the other willingly swallows your sounds, tipping over the edge just as satoru lays his tongue flat along your cunt.
“mm fuckkk—, s-shit, satoru—!” you cry into suguru’s skin, wrapping fingers around his wrist for some anchor as you gush all over your other lover’s mouth, coating his face with cum. geto’s lips part as he watches the both of you, filling his ears with your high-pitched mewls against satoru’s deeper moans that he spills with your names on his lips, filling his hand with his cum.
but the dark-haired man isn’t done, oh, no, and you both sure as hell aren’t either with the way you don’t hesitate to bring his other hand to your lips to clean it, scooping all of his cum onto your tongue.
“dirty slut,” he whispers, relishing in how you start to suck on his fingers. and then he’s blessed with the both of you tugging on his arms so he’d be on the edge of the bed, seemingly an arrangement you two agreed on. it’s obvious that you two definitely had a little talk about this when he switches between both you and satoru kneeling on the ground, tongues out and waiting.
“oh . . darlings,” geto coos, stroking his cock lazily. you’re the first to wrap your lips around his tip, suckling as he shivers at your warm mouth. but it’s not long until you’re taking it out and bringing gojo’s head closer, slapping geto’s sensitive cock on the other’s tongue. the scene sends immediate thrills down to your core, pulsating and throbbing under you.
suguru groans at the sight, his two pretty lovers using him however which way; gojo bobs his head along his boyfriend’s cock, pressing his tongue against the base of his shaft while you aid him momentarily with a hand to his nape. your hands never forget his balls, squeezing and playing with them while satoru sucks him off — and then it switches again.
this little game continues on for a while, gurgling noises and wanton moans filling the room every time his cock enters one of your mouths.
it’s so different, too — you like to have saliva dripping everywhere, a sloppy blowjob with his tip touching the back of your throat and your nose buried in his pubes. satoru likes consistency, stroking the parts he can’t reach and bobbing his head obediently and making sure he looks up at him with those blue, blue eyes of his.
“oh, baby, baby, shiiit . .” suguru groans out, hands clutching the sheets so tightly it might cramp, until you’re both squishing your faces together, each getting a share of his tip that’s leaking the remnants of the previous round. 
“t-that’s so hot, fuckin’ hell,” he swears when you two start to make out around his cock, equal part of lips on each other and his length that he gets twice the pleasure and the blessing of the two of you. geto slips both his hands into your hair, cradling your heads as you two slurp and suck and slobber over his throbbing dick, moaning into each other’s mouth.
there’s strings of cum that connect you both to geto, translucent white all over your lips and hands that only adds to the obscenity, your hand coming up to help stroke his cock.
satoru follows suit, larger hand engulfing yours and looking up at him through white eyelashes again, smiling to himself when he hears geto’s choked up words. he’s so hard it hurts, the mere grinding against the sheets doing nothing for him so he moves a hand between his legs, letting out soft pants.
“i’m gonna— c-cum . .” it’s even a wonder he’s held out this long, and you add fuel to the fire when you speed up your hand along his shaft, catching the glint in satoru’s eye with a giggle and sharing in the honour of being able to have geto suguru at your mercy.
your mind is muddled, the mixture of suguru’s previous load and satoru’s strawberry scented lip gloss sending you into a frenzy. under your lips, you can feel the dark-haired man twitch, you can feel gojo’s soft lips, it’s almost too much when the latter whines into your mouth. geto interrupts; “i’m g’nna give both of you my cum— haah . . ”
you’re both off him when you hear that, pleading with two sets of eyes and with outstretched tongues while your hands never stop their assault. gojo makes use of his pretty ceruleans while there’s multiple “please’s” falling from your throat, ears flooded with the wet shlick’s of your hands.
“oh my g—god . .” geto’s hands are so tight around your hair it borderline hurts, just hunching over the both of you with his eyes fighting to stay open, “fuck— i’m c-cumming—”
his pupils are blown wide when he sprays his cum over both your faces, spurting his seed all over your tongues and cheeks. the room fills with your moans at the feeling, with hand making sure you’re milking his cock for what it’s worth. suguru’s lips contain variations of your names alongside profanities, thighs shaking under him as whines escape him.
“aw, the both of you—” geto hums, fingers releasing your hair to hold your cheeks and he wished his hands weren’t so gross and sticky so he could at least make you two pose for his camera, but his jaw drops when you both turn to each other to have your lips meet again, mouth gaping as he watches his semen drip everywhere and your tongue against satoru’s — a scene of pure filthiness.
“j-just know how to treat me . .” suguru watches, dumbfounded as gojo licks his cum off your face and vice versa, before you both turn to him with grins that remind him why he likes to take the reins in the bedroom.
“and now, i’ll treat the both of you . . how’s that sound, darlings?”
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