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#corpse husband comfort
strnqer · 2 years
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something about you
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— pairing: corpse husband x afab!reader
— quote: “did you mean it?”
— warning(s): cursing, hurt/comfort
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(𝐲/n) sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day, she was contemplating on wether to post the cover song on her platform or not.
she rubbed her hands on her eyes to rid her of any desperation and replayed the song once more.
in my room,
singing along with you
and my baby
you know that i got you
(y/n) closed her eyes as she leaned back on her gaming chair remembering every face-time call they've had just to listen to music. they'd simply sit and take in each other's presence, corpse' eyes would remain on his screen as he watched her write on her journal or feed her cats(or just breathe), his longing stares would always remain unnoticed seeing as every time (y/n) glanced at the camera she'd be met with the comforting sight of darkness—
not that she minded, she loved seeing his outline, she'd memorized it by how often they'd call just for (y/n) to go on with her day as corpse watched with soft music playing in the background.
it was a safe space for corpse to come to when he needed a small escape from reality, every second spent with her was a moment more where he truly felt happy.
hit the road
i'm taking off with you
not in a hurry
there's something about you
ah
late night drives were the highlight of her day, (y/n) loved how either her or corpse would randomly jump into their car and drive up to the others place to pick them up. most of the time corpse would appear on her doorstep late at night when he couldn't sleep, he'd ask her to take a drive with him—usually with (y/n) driving since she preferred having corpse fall asleep mid song. it'd give her a peace of mind knowing he at least slept for a few minutes with her.
aside from his naps, the air around them would be filled with loud chuckles and spilling of secrets, they'd always have some sort of calming music in the background mostly consisting of piano or guitar. (y/n) could always tell he had the biggest smile on his face underneath his signature face mask, she loved to know he was happy because of her. she loved him.
he looks just like a dream
the prettiest boy i've never seen
from the cover of a magazine
(y/n)'s shaky hand lifted up to press pause once more. she took in a deep breathe, deciding to post it once and for all. what's the worse that could happen?
her fingers moved efficiently across the keyboard, matching black nails that she'd done with corpse clicking against the letters. ' something about you cover — for you, bear; the man i'm fucking in love with ' she'd type, using the same nickname she'd given the older man long ago. (y/n)'s mind drifted back to what this decision might cause, the pain, the loss. . .she took in a deep breathe allowing her mind to relax before allowing herself to upload the video—patience is all that was left.
the video didn't take long to upload, in fact in less then 10 minutes the video was up and running on her youtube—fans had already begun their attacks, many were already suspecting and other were painfully clueless. she received dms and tags on all of her social medias but none were from the man she wanted most.
a few fans began a chain on twitter, they pointed on the fact that she was wearing corpse's hoodie and the painfully obvious one which were the lyrics. (y/n) let out a sigh of relief, everyone was taking it somewhat okay and the weight was finally lifted from her sore shoulders.
the pretty girl lifted herself up from her desk to make her way over to her bed but before she could even move a muscle the familiar ringtone flared noisily through the air. she winced at the sudden noise but accepted her fate, and with a shaky hand she answered corpse's call.
heavy breathing filled the tense atmosphere that surrounded the pair, no one dared to say a word. "cor—"
"do you mean it." corpse's voice ripped through her like a cut to the heart and suddenly everything became much more realistic. there really was a chance she'd loose him.
"i mean it." (y/n)'s voice wavered slightly, she shut her eyes tightly waiting for his rejection to come but nothing came. his heavy breathing filled her thoughts before suddenly it disappeared, she snapped her eyes open only to see he'd ended the call. . she should have expected it, she shouldn't have done it. words of rejection filled her head, voices flared their thoughts around her and loud ringing made its way to her ears. she was dying. she couldn't do anything about it, she felt herself explode yet nothing had happened, she still remained in the quiet room, everything was in order.
(y/n) lifts her hand as if to delete the video but decides against it knowing that it'd cause problems among their fans.
an hour passed, she'd lost any and all hope she had.
two. suddenly she was hyperventilating, the song she'd sang so lovingly for her best friend played over and over again in the background. large, hot tears made their way down her face, leaving a wet trail in their wake. she sobbed and sobbed yet no one heard, her heart hurt inside of her chest, she didn't feel a thing. a knock ripped through the moody air and straight into her chest, she stood, hope evident in her dull eyes as she walked over to her door. she hesitated slightly, her hand pulled back to wipe away her tears and runny mascara.
corpse waited patiently outside of her door. he had paced around his room in the brinks of a panic attack, the only person that could help him through it wasn't there—he was in disbelief, he felt stupid for how he ended the call. he couldn't imagine how terrible she felt at that moment, he punched himself repeatedly, over and over. he couldn't say those simple fucking words over the phone. he needed to tell her. corpse had determinedly made his way over to her apartment.
the door creaked open only to uncover her, oh how he wished he came sooner.
her eyes were rimmed with red, purple ish bags were already forming underneath her eyes from all the stress she—he had put her through along with the furious scrubs of her sweater clad hands against her weak features.
he despised himself. the way he felt now seeing her in such a fragile state pained him to the rim. he wished only to make it right and hoped that he wouldn't make a fool out of himself for trying.
upon opening the door the weight on her heart multiplies, the man of her dreams stood a few inches away wearing the same stupid mask he wears out in public that she unknowingly adored.
(y/n) takes in a deep breathe while pacing along her thoughts for words.
"i- what're you doing here corpse?" her voice broke slightly off at the end and the man whom it was directed to winced.
"i had to come see you.." her eyes casted to her feet before she took a few steps back into the comfort of her home, allowing him to move in and shut the door behind him.
as if he were in a trance, corpse practically ripped his mask off along with his beanie, then throwing it somewhere in the room.
as if on instinct (y/n)'s eyes cast down to the floor, suddenly the small cracks seemed interesting. she felt the taller man walk up in front of her which caused her muscles to tense. "look at me." he demanded, yet his voice was far from stern and his hands which now rested on her cheeks were far too gentle.
her eyes slowly trailed up his figure until they finally met his eyes. she took her time in memorizing his perfect features. he was everything she's imagined him to be and much more.
the slight tremor in corpse hands didn't go unnoticed, she gently placed her own hands on top of his, uttering those three little words that had corpse flush like a little kid. "you're so gorgeous"
his hands moved swiftly and efficiently as he pressed her against his body. his back hunched over as he shoved his face in the crook of her neck. (y/n) gently stroked his back as he took her in, "d. . .did you mean it?"
"i-i did." she took in a huge breathe, her muscles slowly tensing underneath his weight and soon he was laughing. laughing.
she closed her eyes, heavy tears building up and piling over as she waited for his rejection. but it never came.
corpse moved away from her for a split second before his lips came crashing down to hers, the salty mix of both their tears caused them to smile and soon enough the contagious sound of laughter forced its way out of their throats and their lips were no longer able to meet.
corpse held her tight, and she held on just as tightly.
a childlike demeanor overcomes the darker male as he excitedly asks her to sing the song to him.
(y/n) nods with a loving smile on her face as she sits on the beanbag with her guitar.
corpse on the other hand has the widest smile he's ever had, his cheeks were almost strained and red from the amount of happiness he displayed for her, yet there he was,
asking her to play it again and again as he listened to her talking so lovingly about him.
taglist:
@georgesbee
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nanoa1foryou · 1 year
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Me, watching people in my tags say they miss Corpse as if he’s dead: ”They don’t even know about the Foolish Gamers streams.”
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nikkisix · 1 year
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Corpse Husband keeps you calm
I thought about something that would keep you calm if u are scared or hurt. I hope u guys love this one too.
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Y/N: *came back home terrified as shit and you sat in the sofa wrapped yourself up in a blanket that was near you, and we're shaking badly*
Corpse Husband: *comes down the stairs and sees on you the sofa pale* Kitten, did something happen to you?
Y/N: *too petrified to even speak*
Corpse Husband: *sits down in the sofa next to you* Kitten?
Y/N: *Looks over and cuddles up onto him*
Corpse Husband: Can you tell me what happened to you and why do you look pale?
Y/N: *Tells what has happened*
Corpse Husband: Oh shit...I'm sorry that happened to you...almost happened. *tummy gurgles loudly* 0///o
Y/N: *lays your head against his belly*
Corpse Husband: Well since you love laying down on my stomach, I'll comfort you in that way. *Smiles softly*
Y/N: *nods* Are you...hungry?
Corpse Husband: A little. I was up working on the videos I did. *Tummy growls*
Y/N: *smiled and giggles a bit* Cute tummy. *Rubs his tummy*
Corpse Husband: Heh thanks. Just stay indoors with me at night or I'll just come along with you late at night. At night is very dangerous in the area.
Y/N: Okay, Corpse. *Snuggles up on his tummy*
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pollyollie · 1 year
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Company.
Platonic! Corpse Husband x TEEN! Reader
Gender not specified, They/Them. Reader is assumed 15 years old.
Summary: After another argument with your parent you go to your nice neighbors apartment down the hall. Who would've thought your neighbor happened to be your comfort streamer?
Extra: You don't know Corpse is a streamer. Assume you know Corpse by his actual name and not by his streamer name. (We don't know his actual name therefore he will be referred to as Corpse for simplicity)
Warning(s): Gaslighting, Name calling (lazy, bitch, self absorbed, sensitive, crybaby), arguing, mentions of abandonment. Panic attacks
You and your guardian got into yet another argument. You tried opening up about your feelings with them, telling them how they're treatment towards you is aggressive and it made you feel unappreciated. It started with a fun little family outing until the two of you were alone together while your siblings and other parent were on a ride. The argument resumed the moment you got home and lasted for what felt like hours.
"you're proving my point exactly right now that you don't care about how I feel! All you ever care about is my grades not me!" You said, your voice raising from the pure adrenaline of the argument.
"You think the world will care how you feel? Maybe if you weren't so lazy I wouldn't have to push you so hard! You're missing the big picture over a minor issue!" They yelled back.
You could feel your eyes watering and you know your voice would start shaking. You tried to breathe to relieve the tightening grip in your chest, to no avail. Still, you continued. The last sentence repeating like an echo in your mind.
"You think my feelings are just a minor issue?" You asked. Hurt evident in you voice. You'd hope they'd take it back, realise what they had just said. But again, your hopes were only in vain.
"Oh great here we go again!" They exclaimed, rolling their head dramatically while flailing their arms in the air.
"All you care about is you! Your head is so far up your ass that you just become some self-absorbed bitch! Then when someone gets mad at you, you wanna get all sensitive like a fucking crybaby! Grow the hell up not everything is about you and how you feel nobody gives a shit!"
Your mental barrier collapsed. The air was too thick to breathe in. Your chest tightened. It hurt. Where is all the air? Why the fuck can't you get any air? Your eyes are burning, ears are ringing, throat stinging, something's clamping down on your chest. You can't breathe. You left the apartment. Your guardian let you. Yelling at you to get the fuck out of their face as you left.
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You went down a couple doors, hot tears still streaming down your cheeks. Your shakey finger pressing the button right next to it. Past the relentless sniffles you listened to the ring echo throughout the apartment.
No answer.
Desperate, you try again. Knocking this time.
"Uhm, anyone home? It's Y/N" You spoke, shakiness still lingering in your tone
Your phone buzzed with a notification. You hadn't even realized you still had it on you.
Corpse: coming rn one sec
A few seconds later the door unlocked and opened up. You met face to face with a surprised look on Corpse's face.
"Holy shit kid, you're not lookin' so good" He joked. He was worried of course, but he finds humour is the best approach
"Another argument broke out. Really bad one this time. Can I just crash on the couch for a bit, until I calm down?" You asked. Nerves on edge even though he's never said 'no' before.
"Yea sure come in, just ..gimme a sec real quick"
You walked in and closed the door behind you, making sure it was locked. You sat down on his couch, knees to your chest, before turning around to see Corpse walk into the room he never let anyone in. That certainly peaked your curiosity. It sounded like he was talking to someone, muffled sounds came from the room a bit longer before he walked back out. Tugging the ends of his shirt down (a nervous habit he seemed to have, you've noticed)
"Sorry kid, I'm a bit busy. You can turn on the TV just not too loud. You can also text me about it if you want, I'll keep my phone on vibrate." He explained. He felt a bit guilty, but he couldn't leave the stream for too long. People would get suspicious.
"It's alright. I'll just play on my phone for a bit until your done. Just being out of the house with you nearby is enough to calm me down. Thanks for answering the door still" you said, finally being able to breathe. Your body was still sore and you still felt like crying. You just couldn't bring yourself to do so since it would pressure your nice neighbor into abandoning his seemingly very important job for your silly emotions.
"Anytime. When I'm done we can watch a movie or something" He said simply.
You smiled and nodded at him letting out a hum of agreement. He sighed affectionately while reaching down to your spot on the couch. One elbow still propped up to the back of the couch, the other patting your shoulder, rubbing his thumb across once lightly.
His phone buzzed, catching both of you off guard. He opened the notif quickly. You wondered who it was from.
"I've gotta get back in there now" he said gesturing towards the mysterious door. "I'll be back though. Help yourself while I'm gone"
Must've been his boss wondering what's taing so long, you thought. "You make it sound like you'll be hours away instead of a room over" you joked. He laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners. He then went back into the room, closing the door behind him.
Though he gave you full permission to TV usage, you whipped out your phone. His TV didn't have twitch and you wanted to see if Corpse_Husband was streaming. As though heaven itself finally showed you some pity, he actually was! You found him by chance and noticed he sounded alot like your kind neighbor! Of course you know it's a bit rude to compare people, but since his voice sounded similar it brought you an odd sense of comfort. Often watching the vodds or horror story narrations whenever your neighbor wasn't able to keep you company. Having to be 'somewhere else for a while' he always said.
You sat watching the stream for awhile, being on edge whenever Corpse was the imposter, having to carry the match since his teammate was voted off early. Corpse said he'd be right back on the stream. Your neighbor came outside the door, checking in on you. You thought the timing was funny, somehow lining up. Of course you only thought it was a coincidence and nothing more.
It didn't bother you, as you still watched the stream. Until it happened 2 more times. Corpse leaves, your neighbor comes out of the room, Corpse comes back, your neighbor is inside his secret room. You got skeptical but wanting to keep denying it. Corpse is very secretive and doesn't want anyone, not even his irls knowing about his identity! If you figured it out, and it turned out to be true, wouldn't that be the same as never being allowed to see your neighbor again? He'd also start avoiding you. Then he'd make you delete all of the funny videos/pictures of him for security reasons. Oh my god. What if he can't handle the anxiety so he moves!?
You weren't even upset about not being able to see your comfort streamer, or him keeping it a secret. What scared you was your kind timid neighbor, who you spent so much time with, who you'd text and game with when you couldn't sleep, who would watch movies and shows with you no matter how childish, listened to you with all your family bullshit, leaving you. He'd block your number, un-add you on his videogame friends list, and cut you off. Your chest tightened again. Your eyes burned even more. It's all too much. Way too much. If he leaves you what would you do? At this point you literally thought of him as family. He's the older brother you never got. Much better than your other brothers. Who seemed like they could give less of a shit.
You felt a warm weight on your shoulder, shaking you slightly. The feeling seemingly yanking you out of your thoughts. Your head whipped up looking at your neighbor. His expression filled with concern. It didn't help your situation. Seeing his face made you curl further more into yourself (you didn't realize you were curled up to begin with), and start crying. Full on sobbing like a baby who'd just lost their parents in a public place.
Corpse froze, not knowing what to do. He's seen you in a wreck before, but this is a new level. It's alot, even for him. Not knowing what to do, he just hugs you. You feel his arms wrap around you and you instinctively wrap yours around him. Hugging him tighter than you probably ever have. Corpse was in pain due to how hard you were squeezing with his already sore body (from gaming and sitting too long) but he never told you about his fragile body, only that he'd get sick easily. He sat and endured while he tried calming you down. Pretty ironic
"I'm fucking horrible at this, but hey try to breathe okay? in and out. For 5 seconds each"
He said. Now he's glad he's done a lot of research for calming panic attacks. Granted, it was so he can try to calm himself down but it helped him help you, so that's a bonus.
His mind was racing, seemed like he has to calm himself down too before he goes into a panic attack with you. Why did you start breaking down? Did you get a mean text/call? Were you just building up too much emotion? Wtf?? He curiously glaced at your phone and saw his character. His amongus character on the screen. He panicked even more at his stream being watched by you while he was in the apartment actively doing it. Then he saw chat asking where he was and what was taking so long. Some speculated he was just busy, others were worried his health made him have to pause the game, some joked saying he had a hot goth chick over, others were so lewd he didn't even wanna think about it... His anxiety was off the chart. Between his viewers, his friends and you. Great. Now he was panicking.
"Just give me one second, I'll be right back" He quickly said. He practically ran into the other room, told the viewers to calm down we wasn't dead. Then made up a lie that he was in the kitchen making some food and eating it, since if he didn't eat now he wouldn't have a chance to later. Thankfully most of them bought it. He made sure to re-mute his mic and came back to you. He noticed red flash on your screen and saw that Toast had killed him. 'That fucker. I knew he was the imposter ' Corpse thought to himself. The little distraction helped calm him down a tad, boosting his ego knowing he was right.
"Ok, listen kid tell me what's wrong. If you don't, I can't help, if you don't wanna tell me that's chill too I just uh- I don't know or I can stay here for a minute?"
He spoke out hastily. Yet still the words came out better than he expected them to.
"I-it's-"
you stuttered out. Should you even tell him? No, you should. He has the right to know and make his own choice about what to do with you later
He looked at you patiently. Waiting for you to speak clearly.
You took a big breath and spoke as fast as you could.
"I watch this streamer his name is Corpse except now I think you're Corpse, but I know Corpse doesn't want anyone knowing about his identity and he gets bad anxiety! so I really really hope that this is some giant misunderstanding cause if it's not I might lose you or things would change and-"
Your lungs burned as you heaved in air. Tears pricking the corner of your eyes yet again. This time from lack of oxygen. Also yea, maybe a bit of stress..
Corpse was hella panicking at this rate. You know? How many others knew? Did they just keep it from him to try and give him comfort? He tried not making it obvious. Fuck. Before he could speak you spoke up again, having a decent amount of air in your lungs.
"-And I really don't want you to leave me or feel weird about me being here! I know teens are stupid but I promise I'm not stupid and I won't tell people I know or send them photos of your face or something!"
Your breath slowed, the words coming out on their own.
"just please...please don't cut me off ______."
He was dumbstruck. Utterly dumbstruck... He couldn't be any more clueless. Cut you off? You? You don't need anything else going wrong in your childhood. He himself is barely managing to try and hold it together. Sure he was scared of people figuring out who he is, but he wouldn't cut them out of his life. Especially for something so small. Don't get him wrong it's a big deal but damn. He felt a bit hurt that you'd think he'd do that. Not like he could blame you though. He knows how anxiety takes over all rational thinking. He didn't know what to say, but still he opened up and finally spoke.
"dude, I don't know if I should be offended or not" a small chuckle escaped his lips
"Trust me, I'm not gonna cut you out of my life just 'cause of that. I mean hey, with how often you come over it was gonna happen eventually."
He paused, configuring his next set of words carefully.
"To be fair, it'll probably be easier now that you do know. Now I can finally stop telling chat I ordered pizza. They're probably verryyyy concerned about my food choices" He partially joked
You couldn't help but laugh at that, wiping your tears in the process.
"Aren't you mad? Or like, scared of me leaking your face?" You asked
"oh no, scared shitless. You've got some heavy blackmail, looks like now I'll have to cater to that expensive sweet tooth of yours" He said, putting his hands up in defeat like he was surrendering a fight
That one made you burst out laughing. You couldn't even imagine blackmailing him for sweets! Without even thinking you blurted-
"Yea sure! If I wanted my face plastered over the news and my name in the next amber alert!"
You both started laughing your asses off. All the worries are seemingly forgotten. You stayed like that for a few minutes, just joking back and forth then laughing even more. Your ribs HURT like hell but it was all too funny!
After a while when you two *finally* calmed down Corpse realized he forgot about his stream. I don't think they'll fall for him "eating food" for nearly 30mins.
Panic mode was activated but he pushed it back a bit.
"How about you come in the room. We can handle specifics later but I think chat wants an actual explanation on why I've been gone for so long and I don't think they'll buy the 'I was eating' act. In the meantime I can introduce you to my friends"
Your heart was racing at the thought of going inside his secret room. On top of that talking to chat AND meeting his friends who happened to be streamers you also really admire!
"I'll take you up on that offer! I'll sit on the floor and watch!" You said, practically hopping out of your seat on the (probably tear and snot stained) couch.
You went into the room and everything felt alright again. Some new ground rules would be set of course but you didn't mind. Your kind neighbor wasn't leaving you, he's even letting you be a part of the stream! It's been a rough day but you know by the end of your comfort streamers well--stream you'd be better off than you have been in a while.
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A/N: This is my first fic for Corpse and my first fic in general for Tumblr! Sorry if Corpse here seems out of character, I tried. I haven't proof read it all the way, I'll re-read it all once I get the chance. That's all <3
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bombing-daisies · 2 years
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I finally got my hands on the hellfire club tee from HotTopic the other day and my plan was to wash it first so it doesn’t have that fresh new smell before i wear it. But I decided to put it on to make sure it fit just now and you guys….the amount of happiness I felt was dizzying
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cicidarkarts · 2 years
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Comfort piece of Corpse Husband x self-insert
Disclaimer: I do not sexualize/romanticize Corpse Husband the person, only Corpse Husband the caricature :3 ala crushing on Loki but leaving Tom personally out of it
Check out my speedpaint over on YouTube! 🖤 [link] 🖤
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ellitx · 1 month
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Entrapment | Alastor x Reader
Okay, hear me out. Alastor being a darling husband he is with his darling wifey is cute and all, but what about a darling wanting to escape from Alastor himself?
word count: 2.3k
warnings: alastor is enough to be a warning already, depictions of blood and gore, toxic and unhealthy dynamic
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When you were still alive, he always had his eyes on you and controlled you like his little puppet. You hated it, you hated being commanded and controlled for every little thing you did and if you even dared run away from him, he’d always manage to find you. You hate every atomic part of his existence so much that you’d be willing to kill yourself just so you could escape and get that taste of freedom.
But you can’t and he won’t let you.
Alastor would never allow the tip of the knife nor even a simple piece of office equipment reach your hands. And if someone has the audacity to touch his play toy, it’s time to say goodbye.
You know he’s a malicious murderer, and he knows that you know about it. If you’re feeling brave enough to tell it to the police then go ahead, because by the time you report this to them and leave the station, the next day you find yourself throwing up yesterday’s dinner upon hearing the cops were all dead.
No one will ever believe you that the infamous radio host of your city is a murderer. For a puny citizen like you, what power do you hold to convince everyone? They’ll laugh it off and say you’re crazy.
But it’s crazier how they are all deceived by the facade he puts on. His knife plunged into the chest of your coworker, their blood spluttering on his cheek.
Alastor’s wide smile was strained and wicked, the image of the blood dripping from your head and lips when he entered the broadcasting booth was as clear as his collection of polished knives.
The audacity to lay a hand on you and push you down the stairs. Do they have the right to push you off? Of course not! He’s the only one who could torment you until you break!
He’s the only one who could tarnish your being and leave a wounded mark on your soul and heart, a reminder for you there’s no one but himself who could make you so powerless and helpless.
Do they have the right to make you so confused? To put all the blame on you, as if you were the worst person in the world? To try their best to tear you apart piece by piece? Because, after all, it’s always the fault of someone else, right? The audacity to hurt you more than any human has ever hurt another human being before… The nerve to be sure you will never find true happiness again because you're now scarred for life.
He thrust the blade again, the rains of scarlet droplets continued to pour until his face and glasses were doused.
But he didn’t let it hinder him from making sure they were as good as dead. He lifted his head and took a glimpse at the sky above. It was gloomy, gray, and dark. Not much sunshine.
Alastor smiled, stabbing the knife at the corpse's chest before wiping off his glasses with his clean napkin. Then an idea clicked onto him.
It's the perfect time to give you a little visit.
He laughed under his breath and stood up straight.
He knew his outfit was not in good condition, but oh well... Perhaps, he’d instead leave a gift for you on your porch. Oh, how he wished he could make an unexpected appearance, just to witness the shock and horror on your face as Alastor comes to the hospital drenched in a coat of glistening crimson.
The anticipation of your reaction fueled his excitement, the more he thought about it, the bigger his grin became. If this would truly happen, it will surely be a sight to behold.
Still fragile from your time in the hospital, you stepped through the threshold of your home.
You missed the sight of its familiar structure, the only space you feel safe and protected, away from Alastor and your colleagues.
A sense of relief washed over you. The familiar sights and comforting aura of your own space enveloped you like a warm embrace. But something was different, something unexpected awaited you.
There on the polished surface of your entryway sat an elegantly wrapped box, its rich paper adorned with intricate patterns and tied with a luxurious ribbon. Your fingers traced the smooth edges of the packaging and you checked for any signs who sent it. Alas, no name was found.
Who could have left this for you? And why now, upon your return from the hospital?
You had a bad feeling about it.
As you carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the layers of paper, you stared wide-eyed at the contents hidden within.
Severed limbs, skin deathly pale and stiff.
Your stomach turned violently and you threw the box away from you, the gift spilling across the floor.
"Oh god, oh my god, what the fuck?!"
You were shaking. What was this? Was this a threat? A sick joke? Your heart thudded heavily in your chest, each beat pounding like thunder. You took a step back and stumbled, falling hard to the floor.
It didn't stop there.
Wounds inflicted on every part of your body, the scars on you began to open, rendering the healing done by doctors and nurses useless.
Wounds made by knives, claws, scissors, guns. Every imaginable instrument of torture. You cried out loud. Your voice pierced the quiet of the night, disturbing the tranquility of the neighborhood.
It was a perpetual and horrid nightmare. Just closing your eyes for even a millisecond, the image of his wide creepy smile flashed before you. You could hear his dark cackles, enjoying the sight of your vulnerable form as he tormented you in and out of your work.
“Run as far as you want, dear. In the end, I’ll always be ahead of you.”
The worst part was not knowing when he would strike next. He could appear anywhere at any time.
And it was all because of his sick game.
You didn't know what to do anymore. How long did you have to keep running from him? How many more days did you have to hide from the world? You were so tired of this, tired of having to live in fear of the monster that hunted you.
But God had finally heard your pleas and granted the wish you’ve been wanting for so long. So when the news came to you that the notorious radio host was dead, relief and happiness flooded every vein in your body.
You rejoiced, celebrating the death of the one who had terrorized you for a long time.
The nightmare was finally over.
The radio station was sullen by the news of their popular host, but you didn’t care. Your work became more efficient. You didn’t feel the need to be so wary and anxious by every move you made in the station. You have finally gained your freedom and the chain that was tied to him has shattered.
This was the best thing you could ever ask for.
Even on your deathbed, it was the best dream. Years without Alastor torturing and tormenting you was bliss. A man’s greatest wealth of freedom.
But then, the dream quickly turned into a nightmare, for it was never over. The demon who you thought was dead rose once again. It was only then you realized that he was never human in the first place. He was a monster.
And now, it was you who were caught in his web.
"My, what a wonderful reunion. Did you miss me, darling?”
The demon before you was mysterious.
Unfamiliar.
But his aura and voice screamed for you, the alarms in your body ringing, to run away from him as far as you possibly can.
The wide smile plastered on his face was all too familiar. Too familiar to be hated in the living and the dead. You’d be a fool if you didn’t recognize it.
You knew who he was. You just kept on denying what was the truth, brushing all the facts laid before you beneath the rag, and keeping your pretty little head away from the politics of Hell.
A demon who is powerful, dangerous, and cruel.
A demon who was feared by the other demons in Hell. A demon who is not to be messed with.
Alastor. The Radio Demon.
It was a miracle, or rather a curse, that you were brought back to life. But now you are a prisoner to this Hell. Trapped inside an inescapable cage with a dangerous beast, you could only hope that your second death would come quickly and peacefully.
But it seemed that fate was not on your side, and Alastor was the ever cruel demon. He did not scar you easily and instead prolonged your suffering, making your life a living torture.
Beads of sweat rolled from your temple. Your hands began to tremble and you felt yourself slowly succumbing to your fear. You had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.
You were cornered, trapped.
Alastor had you where he wanted.
You watched him closely, eyes locked on him and every single movement. If he did something, you would see it.
"Are you frightened, dear?" he asked. His eyes met yours and he smiled. "There is no need to be afraid."
"Stay back! Don't touch me!" you shouted at him. The corners of his lips curled up, his smile turning sinister.
"Now, now, let's not act too hastily."
His gloved hand reached out and caressed your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. His red eyes bore into your soul, burning with hunger.
You couldn't bear to look at him. You didn't want him touching you.
"Don't," you whimpered.
"Don't be afraid. You have no reason to be afraid."
Rivers of tears streamed down your cheeks as the fear overwhelmed you. You didn't want him touching you. This man... He was the same one who hurt you, who ruined you.
"Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you here?"
The smile on his face grew wider.
"Do I need a reason? It’s obvious why we’re here," he replied, cocking his head to the side, eyes piercing through your eyes and consuming every little bit of your reactions in his head.
You gulped and stepped back, trying to create some distance between you and him.
"What are you going to do with me?"
He chuckled. "What a silly question! Would a little reacquaintance hurt?"
Reacquaintance? He was talking like this was a casual meeting. Like you were old friends reuniting. But this was the man who hurt you.
"What's the meaning of this?” You sobbed, shaking your head.
Alastor laughed loudly, his grin never faltering, and it makes you sick he finds everything amusing. An entertainment for his delight.
"You never fail to amuse me, dear. Aren’t you the one who killed me?” His antlers grew, his pupils changed to radio dials and his shadow stretched out of him, becoming more demonic in appearance.
You trembled. Your heart beat faster, your legs felt weak, and your mouth was dry.
"I... I…."
He stepped closer, and you stepped back.
Nothing came out of your lips. The words you wanted to say were stuck in your throat. You didn't want to look him in the eyes but his gaze held your chin up high, forcing you to face him. He smiled, and his eyes turned back to normal.
The knees that kept you upright gave in, unable to stabilize you any longer as your body slumped onto the rough pavement.
"Oh, darling," he sighed, the radio static in his voice disappeared as he crouched down. 
Your gaze remained fixed on the ground, avoiding any chance encounter with Alastor's piercing stare. Instead, your eyes trailed to his cane, a silent witness to the tense atmosphere between you.
You dared not meet those fiery red optics that seemed to delve into the depths of your very being, dissecting every nuance of your expression. Fingers clenched tightly, you seek some form of solace in the texture of the barren earth beneath you, as though it could take you amidst the storm brewing within.
Alastor took your chin between his fingers and delighted your vulnerable form. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy and cheeks stained with tears.
"Fate has intertwined us together, dear. Run from me, I’ll always find you."
You didn't know what was more cruel—being brought to hell when you only wished for peace or being toyed around with him after death.
The nightmare you once thought had finally ceased returned to resume its cycle in the afterlife.
"I'll never get away from you..." You said, voice low and wavering. All hope was lost and so was your faith to continue living in this fiery pit of Hell.
"That's right. Good girl," He patted your head, taking a few strands of your hair and twirling it between his fingers. You fought the impulse to recoil, suppressing the urge to swat his hand away. 
The consequence of such defiance weighed heavily on your mind; after all, provoking one of hell's overlords was a gamble you weren't willing to take. So you held your ground, masking your inner turmoil beneath a facade of obedience, unsure of what consequences awaited should you dare to challenge the infernal authority before you.
In the dim light, his hand tenderly brushed away the tear tracing its path down your cheek. But as your eyes met his, a glint of something primal flickered in the darkness, casting an eerie glow upon his sharp, yellowed teeth.
Upon the moonlight, his crimson irises blazed like embers, drawing you into their hypnotic depths with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
"But fear not, darling. I can promise you a good time. And now that I found you again, we can pick up from where we left off. It will be just like old times."
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tender-rosiey · 9 months
Note
I really like your writing about protective husband dazai x reader can you do make one with fyodor ☺?
[HILISE'S FANS 🌺]
sin — fyodor dostoyevsky x f!reader
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a/n: I am glad you liked it, sweetheart! I hope you enjoy this one as well <33 mentions of blood + death
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you loved the way fyodor’s glided along the cello as he played tune after tune.
it was comforting, calming, and sent a wave of security through your being.
but, at the moment, the sound of the cello is antagonizing to you. it creeps you out and makes you want to hide.
your husband isn’t the one playing it and the man who is playing is smiling wickedly as he moves his hands, roughly and stiffly—almost mockingly, “to think that fyodor had such a pretty plaything. I wonder,” he looks at you, “will he actually come to save you?”
his cackle echoes throughout the room and you hate that you can’t give a confident answer to his question.
will fyodor really come to save you?
or were you one of the chess pieces that can be discarded?
you shake the thought out of your head and try looking around once more for anything that would aid your escape.
your captor notices and quips, “give it up; this room is full of nothing—save for you and me, of course.”
you feel your chest tighten and despair is starting to fill your heart. will you really die here? Dark thoughts start flooding your mind.
but then, you snap your heads towards the door when it opens.
it finally reveals your husband, fyodor. the man leaves the cello, dropping it to the floor and you could swear that your husband’s eyes narrow, and approaches fyodor, “long time no see, fedya! hope you didn’t mind that I stole your wife for a bit.”
fyodor’s eyes travel to your form, ignoring the man, and analyze your state. you’re safe, but he would be blind if he couldn’t see the bruises on your arms, probably from their filthy and harsh grips on you.
the man snaps his fingers, catching fyodor’s attention again, “did you get my stuff? your wife for the goods, you know the policy.”
fyodor sighs, “you don’t deserve the salvation I will grant you, but—you also don’t deserve to walk this earth after what you have done.”
the man laughs, “and what will you do, fyodor? a frail man like you can only kill me if he touches me.”
a smirk settles on your husband’s face, “are you so arrogant to think that I would come unprepared?” and so fyodor snaps his fingers and a portal opens.
it’s nikolai’s, you note.
on the other hand, the man doesn’t get to react as a pole impales him right then and there.
a frightened scream escapes you at the sight and you look away. your breathing quickens and you try to move away from the puddle of blood forming.
Fyodor simply walks past it and looks at the man’s dead body, “may you be punished for all your sins,” he sneers then nears you, his eyes softer.
he kneels in front of you, taking your hands into his own, “are you okay, milaya?”
your eyes dart frantically from your husband to the corpse, “w-what about—?”
your husband shushes you before placing a kiss on your forehead then on your eyelids, “he deserved it. if left alone, a sinful fool like him will only cause chaos.”
fyodor pulls you close and strokes your hair, “you get it, don’t you, my dear?” he buries his face in your face, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “he thought of hurting you and that alone is a big sin.”
you pat your husband’s back, “were you…worried?”
“you’re smart enough to figure that out, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he pulls away to examine your face, “surely, you don’t think that I don’t care about my own wife, right?”
you avoid his eyes and he frowns lightly, “foolish wife of mine,” he gazes at you and his lips graze your ears, “I wouldn’t have kept you if I didn’t care.”
for the longest while, he was shocked by how much you became to him, but he never fought it. he embraced it a while ago and he has come to the terms that to him, you being hurt is the biggest sin anyone could do.
so he pulls you close once again and prays that you’re spared from the aftermath of any action he does. because he is sure that once something happens to you, his heart will know nothing but vengeance in your name.
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @waosobii
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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arabellasleopardcoat · 4 months
Text
Lookalike (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)
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Summary: Inside the highest tower of the Red Keep, lives a girl with long silver hair...
Warnings: Oh man. What a trip. Rapunzel, innocence kink, daddy issues, cursing, mature language. Light groping, kissing. Daemon, and all his usual warnings. Manipulation. I tried to make it whimsical. You know, a fairy tale.
Requested: Yup. For the bingo. Daemon + retelling of another story. Posted it early because I couldn't sleep last night so I stayed up finishing this.
Once upon a time, in a far away land called Westeros, lived a King and a Queen. The Queen was a beautiful woman, with hair made of spun silver and gold.
The King and the Queen had a daughter, a bright girl called Rhaenyra. They loved her deeply, but as many powerful men behind him, the King could not help but wish for a son.
When the Queen had carried Rhaenyra, her pregnancy had been harsh. She had struggled to fall with child, and when she had, she had been sick the whole time. The Queen was not too sure if she could withstand another pregnancy.
“My love, I need my heir.” The King said to her. “You must help me and try again.”
“But husband, you know we cannot. The Maester said pregnancies were too rough on me."
“If I can't have my heir, I fear I will lose my throne!”
So the Queen decided to try again. Soon, she was with child. Yet, the Queen could feel something was different, this time. She got twice as large as she was when she was carrying Rhaenyra, her body ached even more. Only the hottest baths could soothe her abundant pains.
“This pregnancy is not normal, not normal at all.” Said the Maester, when examining the Queen. “I fear the delivery will be hard.”
And hard it was. For there was not one baby but two. A girl and a boy, a moon and a sun. The parents only found out when the Queen was unable to deliver the baby, and the King, believing it to be his precious heir, ordered the Maester to cut her open.
Wailing into the world they came, shrieks so loud they rose half the Red Keep. Every bell in the city was toiling for them. The King named his heir Baelon. The girl, the little moon, was forgotten. That was you.
Too young to know it then, your first hours were spent in your sister's arms, both of you forgotten in favor of the new heir. But it was barely hours at all when your little brother passed away.
At the funeral, the King was the picture of despair. His Queen was dead by his hand, his heir lasted no longer than a day. Now a father to a baby girl he didn’t know how to care for, and an unruly maiden.
Perhaps, sensing his despair and hoping to offer some words of comfort, and Arryn cousin took you from him and gasped:
“By the Sevens! If she is the very image of Aemma as a babe.” No one took in consideration that this Arryn cousin was not, in fact, older than the Queen.
“Is she?” The King asked, on the verge of tears. Your father could not stop remembering your mother’s face, as the Maester aided your entrance into the world. Her cries haunted him even in his sleep. He was turning into a decaying corpse, from inside out, guilt rotting him alive. “Rhaenyra, come here.”
“Father?”
“Does she look like your mother?”
Your sister squinted at you. You yawned, a toothless, sweet thing. Rhaenyra wasn't very knowledgeable about babes, but she liked you. You had grabbed into her finger the first time you had seen her, tiny fingers turning into the most adorable rings.
“She has her beauty.” She answered, politely. The King hummed, an idea sparkling into his head. Soon, the highest tower in the Red Keep was being repurposed, and the Hand relocated.
Nine and ten years later, that brings us to you, in a continent named Westeros. Inside it, Seven Kingdoms. Inside them, a city called King's Landing. Inside the city is a castle. In the castle, a tower. In the tower is a room. In the room, a girl. You.
You stared at your reflection, squaring your shoulders. You gave yourself a big smile.
“Father, I want to try claiming a dragon.” You repeated to the mirror, before shaking your head. “No, no. Too disrespectful. Lord Father, I was wondering if I could go and try to claim a dragon?”
The reflection did not answer. You frowned. You didn't like groveling, but you weren't too sure of what else you could do. Perhaps, sending him a note would be better.
As the youngest sister of the heir to the Iron Throne, you had led a sheltered life. Even more so, as the spitting image of his late wife, according to your father. When looked in the right light, your eyes were the same shade hers had been. And the way you spoke did resemble the short, clipped speech of the Vale.
No one dared question those things, even though your accent had been ensured by your father by providing you with tutors only from that region. The King was very protective of you, set on expiating his guilt over the death of your mother by ensuring your safety.
All of your care had been provided by him after her death. Viserys knew nothing about child-rearing, but refused to let any servant touch you beyond the wet nurse. You grew into a child, and your father didn't even know how to cut your long, silver hair.
Years passed, and soon you learned to take care of yourself. Used to long hair as you were, you never thought about cutting it. Instead, your mind was preoccupied with more urgent matters. For example, how could you get out of the Red Keep.
Sometimes, your father's protection turned overbearing. Unlike your older sister, you were not allowed to leave the castle. Nor had you been allowed to partake in the activities other young ladies did. The only way you had managed to know the world around you had been through your books and observations.
Your rooms were in the tallest tower in the Red Keep, ensuring you would be kept safe from intruders and even invaders, if such a thing ever came to pass. You had double the guards Rhaenyra and Viserys did. Instead of providing his new Queen with a sworn shield, he had chosen to devote all the Kingsguard to you.
While you knew your tower had been used for other things before, it had clearly been refurnished. Now, it worked as a castle of its own, inside which you had a tiny kitchen, bathing quarters, rooms, and a library. The idea was that you would never need anything outside it. A tiny universe, just for you. You had plenty of space for your books and trinkets, but it made for a lonely existence.
Each time there were unknown men roaming the Keep, you got sent back to your tower. Your father didn't like the idea of you being married off or corrupted by them. You were too precious, too good. He had said that when the day came, he would find you a good match. One that, you suspected, would keep you close to home. Perhaps Aegon, or one of your cousins in the Vale.
If you married at all, of course. Your father had gone through a phase of encouraging your faith in the Seven, in the hopes of you deciding to be a Septa. If you did, the King would be most pleased, for it would mean you would never suffer the same fate as your mother.
You wanted neither. What you wanted more than anything was to see the world, do the things Rhaenyra told you happened outside the Red Keep. And according to you, it would all get started if you got your own dragon.
With a dragon, you would be protected. Your father always used your lack of one as an argument for denying you the experiences ladies your age had. Your egg had not hatched, but if you claimed one, you would surely be allowed to leave.
Unfortunately, what was required to be able to bond with a dragon had been deemed too dangerous for you. King Viserys had banned you from the dragon pit, arguing that dragons could be unpredictable.
Today, you had been sent back to your tower due to an impromptu visit from your Uncle Daemon. You knew the man by reputation only, by how much he angered your father. If there was one person who you were prohibited from speaking to, it was him.
You had heard the rumors, of course. A few years back, after your mother's passing, he had taken Rhaenyra to a pleasure house. Whatever had happened inside was between her and him. To your father, though, it was enough to keep you away from him.
Smile. Square your shoulders. Try again to assert yourself. You eyed your reflection once again, wondering how you could convince the King to let you try to get a dragon. Outside, something scraped against a rock, again and again. Curious, you went to the window.
On the very base of your tower, there was a man hopelessly attempting to climb upwards. He was very dashing, sporting the same silver hair you did, only much shorter.
“Who are you?” You asked, slightly frightened. In truth, you were not used to strangers being so close to you. Your father always said men were dangerous, and that outside the Red Keep there were aberrant creatures, mean and ruthless, that hurt young maidens for their enjoyment. “Step away from my tower, or I shall call my guards!”
The man ignored you, choosing instead to stab a sword between the rocks that made up your tower. You screamed, alarmed.
“Stop that! That's not allowed, you are damaging my tower.”
The man ignored you, trying to use his sword to climb. He grunted in exertion. You ran towards your chambers and filled a jar with water. Then, you ran back to your window and dumped it on his head.
The man shrieked and fell down the few meters he had managed to progress. You laughed, startled.
“Aren't you a fearsome thing?” He muttered to himself. Then, he looked up at you, with the most purple eyes you had ever seen. “Please, Princess. Help me out.”
“Why should I? You are an intruder.” You glared down at him, not even entertaining the notion, but deciding to play along regardless. In truth, you were curious about him. And starved for companionship.
“I am being chased.” He screamed up at you, frantically looking behind him. “Please, help me.”
You leaned down towards your window, bracing your arms on the edge of it.
“Bad business, that.” Your voice was cheery and woefully uninterested. This was the most exciting that had happened to you in years, you were not about to stop it. But at the same time, you did remember all of your father's warnings. There were people out there that were not kind.
“Damn it, you are just like Aemma. Pair of cynics.” He cursed, and started to try to retrieve his sword. Your eyebrows raised.
“You knew my mother?”
The man looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand. He squinted at you. His bone structure reminded you of someone.
“I did.”
Your mother. A cynic. You smiled. No one had ever told you about her, not beyond all those polite things everyone said about the dead. How kind she was, how beautiful and learned. It did nothing to make you feel closer to her, these empty platitudes. They were generic, they could be talking about any woman.
Your father never went beyond that, either. The Aemma he talked about was an idolized version of her, a woman frozen into a perfect state of likeness to the Mother. He didn't allow anyone to contradict him, not even Rhaenyra. When you were younger, she had told you your mother had been hesitant about having another pregnancy, and struggling to carry another baby to term. Your father had banned her from visiting you during the next six moons.
But this stranger was speaking of her as if he knew her well. Your heart ached to know more about your mother, know the real her. It was enough to help you make your choice. You gathered your hair and threw it down the window.
“Come up then.” You ordered.
The man looked at the mass of hair in bewilderment. He touched a strand of it, fascinated by the way it picked up the light. He did not move.
“Use it as rope. You won't hurt me.” Were all men so dumb? Surely, if this one was so slow, he could not be a threat.
“Of course. Magic hair. Fucking Viserys.” The man started to climb. He got quickly inside, panting with exertion.
“You know my father, too?” Your body tensed. This, you did not like. What if he was one of the men that were supposed to visit the castle today? One of those who corrupted and hurt young maidens?
Your heart started to beat harder and harder. You tried to convince yourself he might not be a bad man. Perhaps, he had met the King through your mother. Regardless, you turned away from him, keeping your voice and posture deceivingly calm.
“Would you like some water?” You did not wait for an answer, starting to move towards the kitchen. You reached into a cabinet, as if searching for a cup.
The man followed. You could hear his footsteps on the stone floor.
“I do know your father.” His voice was strange. As if he were realizing he was making a mistake but couldn't pinpoint why. Uninterested, you took out a cup. “He is a great King.” He added, hurriedly. Just in time for you to grab a pan, turn and smack it against his head as hard as you could.
The man dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. You hiked up your skirts and rushed to his side. Kneeling by him, you took a closer look at his sword and grinned. You had seen it before. In your books. That was Dark Sister, Visenya's sword.
You had caught Daemon Targaryen. What better proof to show your father that you were not helpless? You tied him to a chair and gagged him for good measure. Then, you pushed him inside your bathing quarters. Only then did you call for a guard.
“Could you summon my father? I need him.” The guard bowed, but didn't speak. Most of them didn't. Your father said they weren't allowed to.
Despite not receiving an answer, you knew your father would be here soon. He always came when you called. You placed a kettle in the fire. Before it could boil, King Viserys was already there.
“Dear.” The King kissed your forehead. You tried not to wrinkle your nose at the smell of herbs and milk of the poppy. Your father always smelled like a medicine cabinet. “As beautiful as your mother, like always.”
You smiled.
“Father. Tea is not ready yet, but sit.” You pointed to your small parlor. When you were a child, the two of you had used to pretend you were a great lady, hosting tea parties there. It had been how he had taught you courtly manners.
The memory was bittersweet. Your father was good to you. He had raised you as best as he could, loving you more fiercely than any of his other children. It was not your intention to upset him, but you knew this topic would do exactly that.
“Were you lonely, my heart?” The King settled on one of the loveseats. You sat across from him.
“I did miss you.” You gave him a coy little look. “But I asked you to come for something else.”
“Do tell.”
“Father. I think I am ready to claim a dragon.” You rushed to say, almost tripping over your words. Already, you could see how his expression was clouding over, a storm raging behind his eyes.
“You know you are not.” The King answered, sternly. “It's too dangerous.”
“I can handle myself.” You fought for your tone to remain even. If it came out too angered, your father would say you were hysteric or having a tantrum, and refuse to take you seriously. So was the curse of being a woman.
“My heart, you have never stepped out of this tower.”
And you had not. But what did dragons care about one's knowledge of the world? You had read about dragons bonding with babes, sharing their cradle with them. To claim one, being well traveled or wise was not required. One had to be chosen, that was all.
You raised your hands in the air, palms up, as if placating a beast.
“I don't want you to get upset, Father. I wanted to prove to you that I am capable, too.” You got up and opened the door to your bathing quarters. “Do not be scared.”
The bound Daemon was still gagged, inside the tub. This time, though, he was awake. Upon seeing his brother, he immediately started screeching and squirming, making up a ruckus.
“Shh.” You said to him, kicking the tub a little. He was turning out to be a very annoying guest. “As you can see, Father, I caught him.”
“And you put him in the tub.” The King said, perplexed.
“He was dripping water all over my floors.” But your explanations fall on deaf ears, since your father has already moved on from his shock. He grabbed Daemon's shirt, forcing him to sit upright.
“Haven't I told you this tower is out of limits?” The King barked at him. “I will throw you into the deepest, more dark and humid dungeon I can find, and then I will…”
“Father.” You did not like being ignored. Daemon was a secondary concern, you just wanted to know if you were allowed out now.
Yet, your father seems to think the issue was an entirely different thing.
“Oh. Sorry, dear. What father meant is that Uncle Daemon has been very bad.” He gave him a shake for good measure.
“I can tell.” Your tone was flat. “Have I proven myself enough to be allowed to try to claim a dragon?”
The King let go of Daemon. He turned towards you and tenderly started checking you over for injuries.
“I would die if something happened to you.” He answered, evasive. You didn't need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. It was too dangerous. It was a no.
Five more long days went by. Poor you, having to stay all day in your tower. After Daemon, your father had now deemed it too dangerous to allow you to roam the Red Keep. It was the tower and nothing more. All you could do was sing Old Valyrian songs and look out the windows. Sometimes, birds would chirp from above, and you would feel slightly better, as if they were singing with you.
Perhaps it had been your song, what had led him to you. Perhaps it had been his own guilty consciousness for a sin long forgotten, or a sliver of empathy for the lonely girl in the tower up above. Whatever it was, before the sixth day came to an end, Daemon appeared under your window.
“Princess, Princess, let your hair down.” You heard him say. You walked to your window, curiously. Daemon was back!
“Come down if you want to be free.” The Prince ordered. “I do not have much time.”
His words stilled you. Freedom. Your father often said freedom was a dangerous thing. If you let people make their own choices, it was much more likely that they would choose unwisely. That was why you were kept in the tower, safe from the world and bad decisions. As long as King Viserys controlled your life, you would be protected.
But what if you left? What if you ran, jumped out of your tower and made your way to Dragonstone to get your dragon? You imagined a version of yourself, dress fluttering in the wind like a flag as you ran, barefooted in the sand. You imagined yourself feeling the sun in your face, having your first cup of mead or watching a parade.
Then you imagined yourself tripping and falling into the sea. You didn't know how to swim. No one saw the need to teach you such a thing. You imagined yourself at the parade, getting robbed. You imagined a man, trying to hurt you. What if people out there, what if Daemon, were truly as wretched as your father said they were?
Your face must have shown your distress because Daemon, impatient, shouted something more.
“I won't hurt you.” The Prince raised his hands in surrender. “I will not tell you I am a good man, but I will take you to Dragonstone.”
His honesty was what sealed the deal. You threw your hair down, grabbed one of your warmest cloaks, and shouted for him to loop your hair around a branch and not let go.
Daemon obeyed. You jumped, and as your feet hit the floor, you wished to be able to say you didn't look back. But you did. And as you saw the silhouette of your tower getting smaller and smaller in the distance, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness deep in your chest.
Noticing how quiet you have gotten, Daemon adjusts your cloak and gives you a grin.
“Do you want to ride Caraxes?” He asks. You match his grin, sadness nearly forgotten. There is a whole world out here, begging to be explored. You can be sad later when the adventure ends.
Caraxes is the most bewitching creature you have ever seen. He is red and serpentine, looking so much like the drawings of dragons you used to do as a child. You nearly scream in excitement.
Daemon whispers to him to stay calm, but Caraxes seems to sense your happiness, for he keeps trying to correspond your loving pets.
“Oh, by the Seven Hells.” The Prince pushes you towards the saddle. “If neither of you stop the tail wagging, we are going to get caught.”
“And we don't want that.” You agree, kissing Caraxes' scales one last time.
Caraxes gives another excited, full-body wag. He seems to be preening under the attention. Daemon must not praise him very much, which is a shame.
“You are such a good boy. So pretty, too.”
Caraxes preens even more. It makes his body shake, tail hitting against the floor in an ominous beat. Daemon groans.
“Enough, enough.” The Prince grabs you by the waist and gets you up in the saddle. You shriek in laughter. Caraxes appears to be happy about it, too, since he starts spreading his wings. “We are going to get caught.”
Daemon jumps into the saddle, hugging you tightly to him. You squirm, unused to the closeness of another human being. When your father and Rhaenyra touch you, it's never like this.
Daemon feels overwhelming, in the best kind of way. His chest is firm, and his smell surrounds you. His arms around your waist hold you tight, but remain loose enough to not hurt you. Your hips fit snugly against his, and make something you can't yet name stir in your lower belly.
It's different. It's strange. You want it to stop. Why do you feel so nervous, as if Caraxes was suddenly dropping down and not barely getting ready to fly?
“Soves, Caraxes.” Daemon orders, careful not to scream in your ear. “Are you alright, little Princess?”
You cease your squirming, hoping that he doesn't notice whatever is different with you.
“Why wouldn't I be?”
“You keep squirming as if there were ants inside your bodice. Are you uncomfortable?” The Prince snickers by your ear, pressing a soft kiss right by the top of it. What happens next is impossible to hide. Your body gives a shiver, all of your hairs standing up. The sensation is as confusing as it is pleasant.
“My stomach feels funny.” You complain, knowing that it isn't exactly that, but close enough that he probably won't question it.
“Funny how?” Daemon kisses behind your ear. You make a hurt, confused noise. You have been kissed before, but never there. In your experience, kisses are not this devastating.
“Funny.” You refuse to elaborate because while naive, you are not dumb. This must be precisely why your father wanted you away from men. If they were able to inflict so much pleasure, it was no wonder why maidens let them do whatever they wanted to them.
“Does it hurt, little Princess?” One of his palms goes to your lower stomach, pressing slightly. “Here?”
You squirm. So he definitely knows.
“Yes.”
“Hurts? Or…?” Daemon's hand goes dangerously low, nearly pressing between the parting of your legs. You squirm more. He brushes something that makes you jolt, delighted.
“We shouldn't.” You answer. It would be much more convincing if you were not relaxing into him. He laughs right in your ear, but retracts his hand.
Even with his hands away from your most sensitive areas, you still feel worked up. Your bodice is too rough against your skin, the way Caraxes moves under both of you makes the area between your legs tingle.
You keep your eyes firmly on the sky in front of you. As it starts to change into pinks and yellows, the feeling ebbs and starts to fade. You feel sleepy, so you recline more against Daemon. A tiny yawn escapes you.
“Tired?” Daemon brushes your hair back, much more tenderly than your father would. With your father, the touch is always harsher, more possessive. As if he is always grasping to the last threads of Aemma he can hold. With Daemon, it feels like he is actually touching you.
You hum, soft and sweet.
“Sleep, little one.” He kisses your cheek. “I'll wake you up when we get there.”
The next time you wake up, it is in an unknown bedroom. At first, you panic. The canopy over the bed looks too similar to the one in your tower, and you wonder if perhaps you dreamed it all. Daemon, Caraxes, the flight, your feelings. Then, you get even more scared because the more you look, the more you realize this is not your room.
You get out of bed. You are still dressed in the same dress you were wearing earlier, but your shoes are gone. The door is closed. Fear grips at you. What if Daemon has sold you to someone evil and rotten, as your father says people outside the Red Keep are? What if he is the evil man?
You rush to the door. It opens easily. There is a hallway that looks much like the ones in the Red Keep, but there is no one there. You scream in fear.
Another of the doors opens in the hallway. Daemon, in a sleeping shirt and breeches, runs out.
“Princess!” He hurries to your side. You are crying, you realize, as he wipes away some of your tears. “What is it?”
“I woke up alone, and I didn't recognize…” You sob, softly.
“Oh, little girl.” Daemon scoops you in his arms. “I should have thought of that. I am so sorry.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you look at him, eyes swollen from your crying.
The world had impressed you during the day, but now that the night had fallen, and you found yourself in an unknown castle, you were afraid. What if there were monsters lurking in the hallways? Or if you needed something? What if someone hurt you?
“I do not want to go back there. I am scared.” You rubbed your eyes. Your hands dug into his arm, not wanting to let go of him.
“Do you wish me to keep you company while you fall back asleep?” Daemon asked, gently smoothing your hair down. You must look a mess, and would find it embarrassing were it not for the fact that being alone in such a big place terrifies you. At this point, you would do anything to keep him here.
“Please.” No more words are needed. Daemon doesn't want you to beg, nor does he want anything in exchange. It's comforting.
One of his hands goes to your shoulder blades, leading you back to the room. Daemon tucks you in and sits by your side.
“I'll stay until you fall asleep.” He says, smoothing down your frown with the gentlest touch. Daemon starts to hum in High Valyrian, softly. You know the melody. It's about flames and burning together. Almost against your will, your eyelids start to drop.
“Don't… Don't want you to go.” Your body feels so heavy, as if sinking into the mattress. With great effort, you manage to curl your fingers around one of his.
“Oh, Princess.” He says, interlacing your hands.
“Stay.” You order.
Daemon lets go of your hand, and you whine, awake instantly. You go to sit up, but he shushes you.
“Shh. I am just… Let me.” He slides under the covers, behind you. You close your eyes, trying to relax against him. It's no hardship at all. Now that the candles have been blown, the light is low and Daemon feels so warm against you.
He starts to trace your features. Finger meets brow, temple, cheek. Thumb brushes nose, then lips. Idly, so very idly, his voice mutters near your ear.
“How many mouths has yours kissed?”
The question startles you. You suppose there is no harm in telling him, yet there is a tinge of embarrassment over it, too. It has finally dawned on you what this new, uncomfortable, thrilling feeling is. Desire. You lust after Daemon.
“I have…” You answer, softly. You do not dare speak it out loud. Not when you rather know exactly how far the two of you are. “How about you?”
“I have lost count. Twenty, perhaps more so.” Daemon says it so casually, as if it did not matter at all. But to you, it does. What are you, compared to this man? How could you want him in such a manner, having so little to offer?
“What makes it special, then?” There has to be a reason for him to bother with kissing all these people. Perhaps, to him, all kisses feel as devastating as his does to you.
“The person, I would gather.” The Prince answers, softly rubbing your back as one would do to help a child fall asleep. You frown. It does make sense. You know what love is, after all. Being in love with someone, or at least desiring them, must make it special.
You would like to kiss him, you think. Daemon is handsome, and his touch does not feel as damning as other's do. He has already provided you with pleasure, even if unknowingly.
You make a wish, then. For your first kiss to be special, with someone you like and that knows what they are doing. If not Daemon, at least someone like that.
“Was your first special?” You ask, curious.
“No. She was terrible. Sharp teeth and all.” Daemon moves your hair aside, exposing your neck. You barely get any warning before he is taking a bite out of your nape. For a playful gesture, it's oddly painful. Your body tenses, and you try to fight it, but Daemon's hands are like a vice around your waist. “Like this.”
With no other choice, you ride it out. Pain is nearly unfamiliar to you, beyond small cuts or painful cycles. It's scorching red and hot, making you break into a sweat. Daemon forces you to take, and take, gently holding your hands in his. It's only after that you go limp under him, twitching slightly, that he lets up.
The aftermath of pain is sweet, you learn. Daemon kisses around the painful bite and blows a raspberry behind your ear. Now that he has let go of your nape, you find out that the pain was not so bad. You are not even bleeding.
“You are such a good girl.” Daemon praises. “So strong. I'm so proud of you.”
You preen as if you were Caraxes, delighted to make him feel proud of you. Daemon smiles against your temple, as if amused by you, and presses a little kiss there. It’s so tender, and so loving, a sharp contrast to his earlier behavior. It makes you feel as if you were once again on dragonback.
“Could you kiss me?” The words escape out of your mouth, without any real thinking. You know they are the wrong thing to say as soon as they leave your mouth.
Daemon pulls away from you. A hurt, confused noise leaves your throat, hands desperately searching back for his warmth.
“Oh, little Princess.” Daemon mutters, tone full of regrets. “I should not.”
“Why not?” You complain. You are not used to being denied so. The only times others do not bend to your will, you get what you want by your own means. Case in point, leaving your tower. Your father had said no, so you had ensured it happened by other means.
“I have done…. What I have done to you, why I took you…” Suddenly, it is as if an icy hand has taken hold of your throat and started to suffocate you. Betrayal settles over your features, overpowering it all.
“You are only doing this to piss off my father.” You say, shocked. Daemon raises his hands, trying to interrupt you, but you halt him with an imperious wave. “You had no intention of taking me to the dragons. You sought to ruin my reputation, as you did Rhaenyra's.”
“No, Princess, no.” Daemon shakes his head. You get up from the bed, angered. He does not try to stop you. “I swear I didn't mean for anything untoward to happen.”
“I bet you said that back then, too.” You retort. You have half a mind to do something crazy. To grab the fire poker and smash his head with it, to set the whole place on fire. You want to make him hurt.
“I… I did mean to anger your father.” Daemon admits, still trying to placate you. It only makes you wish to scream and scream and never stop. “But I do think it is a shame not to let you even try. Dragons are your birthright. Denying you is unnatural.”
You glare at him. You are unconvinced of the truthfulness of his words. Your father was right. You were unprepared for the world, and it couldn't show more. Daemon has tricked you as easily as if he were taking candy from a babe.
“I'll take you there regardless. I promised to.” His eyes are pleading, but you do not wish to hear him, or see him any longer. Instead, you sit in front of the vanity and look at yourself.
The long, silver hair. The scared eyes. The night, the first you have of freedom, is spent utterly cold and miserable. You stare at yourself and stare at yourself until you think you are going mad.
Daemon does not say a word. He doesn't leave the room, either. Perhaps he falls asleep at some point, perhaps he does not.
You look at your reflection again. You look at your hair. Silver, like his. The lovely color Daemon loves so much. Long, and braided back, flaunting your maidenhood and youth. Forever your father's little girl, never allowed to grow, to love, to lust.
A braid that long won't allow you to claim a dragon. You are more likely to set yourself on fire or trip on it. It's that thought that gives you the determination needed to do what needs to be done.
In the first drawer of the vanity there are a few miscellaneous ribbons. There is also a pair of scissors. You grab it, and grab your braid. You chop it off. As it falls from your shoulder, you feel a weight lift off from you. No longer your nape is heavy with the weight of all these expectations laying on you.
There is a woman staring at you, from the mirror. She looks like she is getting ready for war, eyes alight with determination. You stare at the contours of her face, mesmerized by what you see. All traces of Aemmas's ghost are gone from your reflection. You look more like yourself than you have ever done.
Daemon is up at sunrise. He may have been watching you chop all your hair off and expose the lovely bite mark that now mars the skin of your nape. He may have been sleeping. Whatever it is, he doesn't say a word about your change of appearance, choosing instead to dress in silence.
“Off we go.” He says, briskly, leading you out of the castle. Daemon points to a hill in the distance. “But after that, you are on your own.”
You are suddenly filled with doubt, the determination you had felt when looking in the mirror dissipating under the morning light. Your stomach clenches. Your legs are sore, unused to the exercise of riding. The bite on your neck burns.
"I do not feel ready to claim a dragon.” You say to him, as you get closer and closer to the hill. You feel like a fool. What if your father is right? What if you end this escapade with nothing to show but a ruined reputation?
“You are.” Daemon answers, barely paying attention. It makes you angry beyond belief. To make your mood known, you stomp over a few leaves, grinding them to dust under your heel. Ugh. Why were you looking to him for reassurance in the first place? It was not like Daemon wanted to help you. He just wanted to make himself feel less guilty over trying to cause a scandal and kill your father from the fright.
“I am not.” It’s almost as if you can hear the voice of your father in your head, telling you exactly why no dragon would bond with you. You are a fool, you are a little girl, you…
“You are a Targaryen.” Daemon interrupts your trail of thought with a squeeze to your nape. Right over the bite. It makes your knees nearly buckle. “You were born ready.”
“But what if it isn't enough? What if they see me, and don't want me? I am not brave, like Rhaenyra, or cunning like you or learned like my father. ”
“They will.” Daemon says. “Because you are strong here.” He taps your sternum. “And your father is a fool for not seeing it.”
You look at him. Past the guilt, past the acting up to get your father's attention. His eyes are nervous, but they hold the same steely determination yours had earlier. Daemon believes in you, you realize. You look up at the hill and think to yourself, it is time to see if you can claim a second dragon.
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queenendless · 4 months
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❤️‍🩹Tough Love (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)❤️‍🩹
A/N: This is a paid commission I wrote, requested by @anime-lover1234
Content warning: JJK AU with lots of angst, hurt/comfort, short injured teacher/sorcerer reader with lots of boo boos, overprotective!upset!SatoSugu hubbies yall.
Haibara alive in this AU, Nanako and Mimiko are first years here with Yuji Megumi and Nobara and they're your students too. Plus Gojo can heal others in this AU.
AND NEARLY 7K LONG SO THERE!
*Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like and follow instead.
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You wanted to impress them.
You wanted to prove your worth in battle.
But things went far off the deep end.
It all began that one sunset evening.
As a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer, you were a perfect match for the Grade 1 curse spirit lurking in the forest near an abandoned school rumored to be haunted after closing down due to allegations of murderous cover ups.
As you pulled down the Curtain, the cool winds blew at your hair, swaying along with your black attire, as the sun was setting for you exorcized the curse at last.
You were turning, ready to return to Haibara-kun who was waiting by the car parked out front, when you felt a stir in the air.
You sensed it further deep in the thicket.
Another cursed spirit.
Small … but on the highest level.
Curiosity and cockiness came in, seeping into your being, compulsively drawn towards your next – spontaneous – assignment.
It was a tall skinny humanoid one, blood painting its skin, eating one of the few mangled teen corpses strewn about the splattered wrecked tents of the makeshift campsite.
"Forgive me. I couldn't save you all." You muttered, cursed energy pulsing through your legs. “I'll avenge you by exorcizing that curse.”
Then you chanted quietly.
“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."
With the barrier now placed; this one designed to keep curses in, you moved in.
With its eyes slowly turning to spot you bouncing off the branches, a swift blur dashing through the air, you warped right behind it, readying a blow right to its head.
But going toe to toe with a special grade cursed spirit on your own … you know it's not the same as it was before. But you were willing to take this golden opportunity.
Your fist blazing with cursed energy, ready to strike, even as —
The spike in its cursed energy went through the roof in that split second.
The atmosphere now pricked with that rotten flesh smog coming off its figure.
One that sprouted up to 10 ft tall.
Your cursed punch missed its mark.
Its sharpened hand going right into your side.
It was all a trap.
And you fell for it.
Hook line and sinker.
Your banshee cry startled the birds as you warped out of its grip, blood spraying out from the forced movement, skidding back on shaky limbs, its toxic touch seeping into your gash wound.
Flashes of white exploded in your mind.
The screams of your two mighty husband sorcerers were blowing out your eardrums.
Your vision was spotty but you felt the shift in its cursed presence spring forward through the air, barely dodging its swipe but feeling the tips of its claws scrape your stomach.
Deciding to draw it away, you became the injured bait, running for your life, warping out of its grab, ready to slam a kick down from above —
The sight of Satoru and Suguru bleeding and crumpled before you took its place. A twinge of fear stabbed your nerves — you were socked hard from the side, paralyzing your cranium, warping in your dazed state right before slamming into a tree.
Covering your ears in futility at the intrusive fake voices invading your eardrums, you squeezed your eyes over your unwillingness to see their gutted crimson painted selves.
"Don't leave us here!"
Toru.
"How could you leave us behind!?"
Sugu.
"It's not real. They're not here. They can hold their own. Even against bastards like you." You growled under your breath, keeping your eyes shut. "Don't see. Don't hear. Just feel."
Sniffing the air as cursed energy heightened your nostrils, you followed its putrid stench and nothing else. Trusting your sense of smell by amplifying it to near max — your limit.
Yet the debilitating toxins were slowing you down. You were getting lightheaded as blood trailed down your side and leg from that open wound. The punches and kicks you managed to land on it were barely making a dent on this creep.
This curse was sapping you of your strength, your swiftness, and your stability at an alarming rate. All you could do was dodge and weave. But didn't stop the onslaught of punches, kicks and slashes littering your body.
Those normal – now dead – teens were just fodder to it.
Now that you; a sorcerer, was in its domain, you became its toy. It would kill you. But first, it would take its time and play with you, prolonging its enjoyment as long as possible, wearing you down until you broke …
Down at the nearby rural town, outside a combini, a bespectacled man just stepped out, throwing away the wrappings of his just finished sandwich, turning to where the foul energies were resonating, seeing the barrier among the thicket of trees …
Curled into the ground, gashes, bruises and blood painted your now immobile body, keeping your head to the ground when you suddenly sensed a trusting presence slipping inside the veil, looming above you, followed by the anguished roars of the special grade collapsing.
"Don't let it hit you … its toxins can make you hallucinate … and can mimic voices." You rasped out the warnings, coughing out blood in the process, when his folded work jacket was pressed into your hands then against your crimson dripping side.
"Understood. Keep pressure on that wound. You've lost enough blood already." You choked out a sob of relief at that low rumbling voice.
Kento Nanami.
A fellow Grade 1 sorcerer. A dependable comrade and a close friend. One of incredible proficiency. Extremely precise aim. Evades with clever maneuvers. Reinforced body with cursed energy.
Tying his spotted tie around his fist, he went into Overtime. With his now stained clothed blunted sword in hand, Nanami struck in as many weak spots as he could create on that titan.
The red and black sparks of Black Flash streaking right off him to chop off its enormous arm.
His words were ringing in your ears as he revealed his hand intentionally to raise his power levels.
Slashing weak points in the surrounding pine trees, he follows it off with diving in to cleave off its legs by the knee.
Bringing it face down to ground level just to cleave its head in two horizontally.
Releasing both his binding vows to enact that single blow, Nanami's extension technique Collapse activated, causing those pine trees to come tumbling down to bury it for good measure.
Scooping you up at breakneck speed, you two got clear of the fallen debris, slipped through the decaying barrier.
Neither of you sensed it any more.
Nanami's eyes bore great disappointment down upon you from on high. "And here I thought you were better than to emulate those two's recklessness."
You felt your pride crack, your ego bruise, and your shame boosted over Nanami-san's disapproval when you felt yourself blacking out and your form became limp too quick for his liking.
Nanami's exasperated, panicking face getting all up in yours, his shouting going mute in your ringing ears, occurred before it all went dark.
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
Hastily calling Nitta-san to send the proper authorities to handle post cleanup in those woods, Nanami kept pressure on your wound in your stead as he situated you two carefully in the backseat as Haibara stepped on it; his wary eyes peeking in the rearview mirror now and then just so he wouldn't crash the car.
Watching in dismay as the only signs of you still alive was your little shifts of discomfort paired with frail mumbling, calling out for your loves, as fear worked its way to the front of your mind.
Hurriedly calling Shoko immediately after to meet them at the foothills of Mount Mushiro where the screeching halts of the car's tires skidded to an almost collision at the first torii gate.
The backseat was tainted red as Nanami tossed his stained business jacket aside then undid the buttons of your uniform jacket then tugged up your undershirt enough to show your biggest wound, allowing Shoko to lean over and work.
“What a way to spend my night." She huffed, concentrating as pure white light emanated off her hands and over your wound.
"She's lost a lot of blood already on top of fractured broken bones. And hallucinogenic, auditory ailments are still in effect even when curse has been exorcized." Nanami added, brooding from the added severity of the situation.
"What the hell, L/n?” Shoko heaved heavily, shedding sweat. "That curse's toxins are still in her system. It's making it difficult to fully heal her.” She was able to seal up your side wound though. “That will have to do for now. We need to move her."
"I'll join you all once I park the car." Haibara informed them, quickly leaning over from the driver's seat to kiss Nanami.
Nanami's tender gaze came Haibara's way before he got out of the car, carrying you, carefully treading up the steps, Shoko shutting the car door and hurrying behind him, with Haibara driving off and Nanami's bloody business jacket left discarded on the back seat.
Shoko spent the late night hours repairing your damaged self, collapsing over the metal surgical table from the overtime stress, panting from her energy spent. Blood pumped into a vein on your arm via the cannula connected to the drip. And your shallow breathing toppled with a cold sweat only made her push herself further as she squeezed your hand to keep you as grounded as possible and you continued murmuring the guys names in raspy, pleading whispers.
A harried Nanami patted Shoko's forehead with a clean spare rag lying on a counter while Haibara gave her a water bottle to hydrate.
Coming in and out of consciousness, tugged between horrish illusions and bleak reality, your once weakened pulse grew stronger as Shoko's RCT filled you, pushing the toxins out of your system.
So when you finally awoke, faded scars and bruises dotted your skin, front and back, leaving you groaning weakly as you clutched your pounding head. You felt like a truck had run you over.
"About time you woke up. Those fear toxins should be leaving your system now. But it did make healing you quite taxing for me. We can continue your checkup in the afternoon when we've both rested. But I could really use a drink right now.” Shoko apathetically griped as she carefully pulled the IV out of your arm just to place a cotton ball sticking to a bandage over the small leaking prick.
“Sorry about that, Shoko.” Feeling her gloved hand holding your still sore one, you barely squeezed back. "I failed to exorcize that special grade … I'm sorry I made you all overwork because of my screw-up." Your guilt stricken face struck their hearts.
"Nitta-san made sure the bodies were collected … what was left of them. Just count yourself fortunate that the curse was just dragging it out when I arrived. Never underestimate them." Nanami chastised you at the end, his goggles currently off, sternness laced in his eyes.
"Please … don't tell the guys. It's bad enough I couldn't exorcize it by myself. If they find out, they'll never let me live this down. Satoru especially." You weakly pleaded, struggling to sit up but able to get up on your bum as Haibara pulled you up.
"They'll find out sooner or later. And there'll be hell to pay if you choose to omit it from them. I will not partake in that sort of nonsense." Nanami griped, dreading the world flipped on its axis once your husbands found out.
"They'll never want to leave my side after this! They're already dealing with workloads of missions as is! Adding this to their pillars of stressful shit … I just need to be right as rain ASAP."
"No such thing as stress free in our line of work." Shoko bluntly stated.
"Gojo-san and Geto-san would be heartbroken if you kept this from them." Haibara frowned, personally wounded.
"They'd be even more wrecked that this happened and they weren't there to stop it …" Anxious guilt raked your bones.
A hand plopped into your hair, brushing it gingerly. “Your foolish pride as a sorcerer better be worth it if you're prepared for what will come of this endeavor." Nanami's foreboding didn't stop you from embracing him around his waist, pressing your face in his stomach, humming as Haibara gently hugged you from behind, and Shoko smiled nonetheless at the cute scene, especially at Nanami's sternness lessening and patting your head some more.
Still too out of it to walk on your own, you were pushed out in a wheelchair by Haibara, straight back to the dorms, stating he would stay in the room beside yours in case you needed any aid for the night, needing to head out in the morning alongside Nanami.
Carrying your ruined uniform clothes in the recyclable bag Shoko kept them in, you set them aside as you limped about to change into familiar comfier PJs you kept on hand in your old dorm room closet whenever you had to crash at the school grounds.
Pulling your phone out of the zip lock bag it was kept in thanks to Shoko too, you had seen it was still on.
They had been messaging you all night. Notifications of your group chat popping up on your lock screen.
But you just … felt too ashamed and embarrassed to reply back.
So you turned it off.
Without them smushing you between them tonight, there was no comforting warmth keeping you safe and sound.
And the aftermath of those horrific illusions and their copycats speaking during and post battle still lingered in your memory. Tittering between life and death, you were trapped within your worst nightmare yet.
Their disapproving glares.
Their cold voices.
Turning their backs on you as they walked into the foggy embrace of bloodshed against your voiceless cries and your wavering hand fruitlessly reached out into nothingness.
So going back to sleep was the last thing you wanted.
But even so, being in your old single dorm bed, your quiet sobs swarmed the room, your pent up agony painting your pillow in tears, stewing internally over wanting to suffer your follies alone versus wishing more than anything to have Toru and Sugu embracing you to chase all those bad dreams and fears away like they have always done.
Your phone stayed isolated on the small wooden bedside table, plugged in and charging. In silence.
Meanwhile, in a hotel, nestled in the Saitama prefecture that lies above Tokyo…
"Well, the twins are sleeping. Their mission definitely exhausted them both." Suguru softly informed, returning to his partner's side after checking on the girls in the room across from theirs.
A pouty Satoru groaned miserably, splayed out like a moody pancake across the bed, puppy eyes trained on his phone. "Suguru~! She's not answering me~!”
Now splayed out beside him on their shared hotel bed, Suguru ruffled Satoru's poofy hair. "Perhaps she's sleeping."
"She always answers me though! She didn't even send me a cute kitty gif~! The injustice!" Satoru cried, shoving his phone screen right in his best friend's face.
Suguru pushed Satoru's phone aside, pulled out his own from his sweatpants and sent a heart your way. And yet, it was not even read on your end. His forehead creased with worry. "No response for me either … I do hope nothing bad has happened.”
Satoru slung an arm around Suguru's neck, pulling himself snug against him, frowning vividly. "I miss her."
Suguru plopped his cheek atop Satoru's noggin. "So do I. The sooner we finish here with our own cases, the sooner we can have her in our arms again. Until then," Suguru brushed aside Satoru's snowy bangs to smooch his velvety forehead, tenderly grinning. "We'll just have to keep each other company~"
Now that piqued Satoru's intrigue, cheekily giggling as he rolled them over so the raven head could straddle him. “Nothing wrong with that~”
Suguru quickly turned the side table lamp off before engaging in a long, sensual make out with his smirking mate, whisking the night away.
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
Your new strategy going forward?
Keep your phone off.
Give off the illusion of still being out in the field, doing assignments far off in the distance.
Stay locked up in your old room except for Shoko's treatments and bathroom breaks.
Until you were all patched up; no visually alarming marks blemishing your skin, you wouldn't let any aside from those that already knew find out.
Not your students.
NOT your men.
By the time you had awoken, Haibara had already left as informed. His sticky note he left on your bedside table with morning greetings and hopes to see you soon followed by a scribbled smiley face did turn your frown upside down.
But it meant you were the only one left in the dorm as your throbbing self painstakingly grabbed some long sleeved apparel outta the closet and changed before putting on some slippers. It was fall now, slowly transitioning to winter, so it was the perfect cover up to be snugly dressed.
You had just gotten outside when you noticed the trio heading to the torii gate exit.
Yuji sniffing the air was what alerted you; skidding to a halt as he was literally across from you on the other side of the long stone pathway, turning to eye you with an unpleasant awkwardness. Running over, his nose dove in closer to get a deep long whiff of you to your jitteriness.
He was your best student in terms of enhancing his senses to their peak with cursed energy. And one you cherished like your own pride and joy. Your pure son.
“L/n-sensei … you're injured. And you look restless. Did something happen?” His eyes became glassy saucers.
Your game plan was on the rocks now. Super human senses at work!
“Hey! The sooner we finish our mission from that blindfolded madman, the sooner I can get to shopping! So move it! No offense, sensei!” Nobara snapped out loud, waiting by the gate, curious what was occurring but impatient to wrap things up for her own reasons.
“Cone on Itadori! We're burning daylight!” Megumi coaxed.
“Alright alright, I'm coming!” Yuji's voice then softened for just you two to hear. “Sensei, whatever’s going on, just … take it easy, okay?”
Your heart swelled at his considerate caring nature like the precious boy he is, smiling thankfully. “I will. Thanks.”
“Welcome back.” That genuine smile of relief and joy of Yuji's almost made you tear up; your swelling up heart touched by his words, doing your best to smile through the soreness as you waved at the boy, saluting back to you, joining his friends, and heading off.
You started uncomfortably limping on your way the moment you students were out of eyesight. Shoko met you halfway, presenting a new wheelchair for you to make traversing more easier. “Sorry but Nanami-kun wanted me to remind you to work on your report about last night. We can head to the faculty office first. Besides, you look ready to topple over.”
You internally groaned at the stingy procedures, expected to recount your near death experience down to the last detail; literally occurring just last night, sending a grateful look her way. “What would I do without you, Shoko?”
“Let's just say I'm better off with you in my life … and I know I'm not the only one.” Apathy gave way to relieving passion in her gaze that you looked away to brush your wet eyes. And you both left it at that as she wheeled you the rest of the way.
Flash forward to some time later …
“I can't believe you going gung ho back there cost me my chance to hit up that sale at my new favorite boutique, you boneheaded idiot!” Nobara bit out.
“Okay okay, I get it! Go easy on my shoulder, Kugisaki!” Yuji yelped in pain at how much she was fussing as she and Megumi helped him walk since he took the brunt of the hits in their latest mission.
“Always ready to put yourself on the line for us … we can handle ourselves, you know, doofus.” Megumi was less harsh, making sure not to hit his shin against Yuji's stabbed one; wrapped in the torn sleeve of Yuji's uniform to stop the bleeding.
Yuji noticed the tender gaze his spiky haired friend gave him, smiling in recognition, chuckling sheepishly. “Protective instincts, I guess.”
“Serves you right, idiot.” Though Nobara and Megumi spoke such mocking words, they were softly spoken, still irked but also grateful they're all still standing.
The moment the trio splurged through the morgue door, spotting your bare back littered with bumps and wide slash marks had them faltering as their short beloved teacher and practically mother figure was in this state.
“WHAT THE HELL?!”
Their unified exclaims startled Shoko enough to press too hard on a red welt on your forearm, causing your excruciating shout.
You slapped your palms over your mouth, mortified at legit blowing your cover out loud.
Due to the fact that Shoko at the moment got a sudden phone call while examining you.
From THEM.
“Shoko, what was that?” Suguru demanded.
“Sounds like a wounded animal!” Satoru exclaimed.
“Takes one to know one. I have work to get back to. Bye bye~” Shoko's false perky jab reverts back to her usual demeanor after hanging up on them. “I would say stay hidden until everything settles down but I'd be lying. I know 25 mins away means those two lunatics will floor it by the end of the day. I wish you the best of luck, my dear.” Her sympathetic pat on your shoulder did not calm down those anxious belly butterflies.
“I knew you were hurt but … OKASAN WHO DID THIS TO YOU!?” Yuji's own wounds were forgotten as he scrambled over to you, blubbering out waterfalls, throwing off everyone by legit calling you mom out loud but too overwhelmed to notice right away.
You pulled your shirt back down, flushed in shame. “Special grade got the upper hand on me. Nanami-san saved me. Sorry to have you three see me like this. So please … keep this between us? Please?” You literally prayed for it.
“For my favorite sensei, my lips are sealed.” Nobara assured.
“Geto-sensei may be less hysterical … Gojo-sensei not so much … but those two together … oh God.” Megumi paled up at the reality.
“The calm …” Nobara ominously started.
“Before the shit storm.” Megumi drearily ended.
“Uh, while I'm not a big fan of keeping things from Gojo-sensei, if it's what you want, then I'll do it.” Yuji, skeptical but willing to make you happy, blushed pink as you embraced him loosely due to you still not being at full strength yet.
“Thank you.” You weeped.
Megumi, Nobara and even Shoko joined in on that hug.
Meanwhile, back in Saitama, again, nestled outdoors in front of a patisserie.
“That was suss as hell.” Gojo lowly rumbled, sitting under the umbrella covered table on one end, stuffing his last – now smooshed – Maneki Usagi Manju from his hands straight to his mouth.
“We know that shout all too well …” Geto's eyes teemed with cynicism, sitting across from him, sipping Sayama tea in one hand, his phone in the other.
Their mentality synced, restlessness in their bones, their six senses flaring up with red alerts.
Something did happen to you.
Something big.
Something bad.
With their cases long since finished; not surprising, their leisure time was spent sightseeing, tasting the treats the places they visited had to offer. Meaning more sweets for Gojo to savor. However, his gut along with Geto's twisted at the thought of you in trouble.
“Girls, gather your things. We're heading back now.” Geto firmly spoke while speed dialing Ijichi-san to come pick them up.
The twins, sitting at the table beside theirs, stopped taking selfies of themselves with their cutely decorated drinks at his announcement. “Yes, Papa~!”
Throughout the ride back to the school; Ijichi-san fidgeting and sweating bullets at his seniors stewing in silence, panicked thoughts raced through the duo's minds.
The one constant that kept coming up?
Whatever was going on with you …
They were getting to the bottom of it.
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
The sky changed from blue and calm to orange and warm.
Getting healed by Shoko before being ushered out to continue healing you, the trio crashed in the common room slash longue when the sight of Nanako and Mimiko waving and smiling as they entered with bags of gifts and snacks to share and give had the trio beaming at the twins safe return.
However, the sight of their teachers coming round the corner into view, radiating such potent agitated auras, sent the trio's hearts racing in dread.
It spelled the first sign of doom.
Gojo zipped up right to them, a wide ass smile on his face, waving with bags of souvenirs on the other arm, cheerfully greeting them all.
“Oh my precious students~! Your esteemed adoring sensei has returned! And I come bearing gifts for you all! As thanks for a job well done! But on the condition that you answer me truthfully! Do you happen to know what our dear Y/n has been up to as of late~?”
“Nope.” Megumi kept a straight face.
“Nada.” Nobara is the same.
“We know nothing.” Yuji as well.
Their calm blunt responses had Geto narrow his eyes at their stoic behavior, the twins shuffling to him in nervousness at the tense situation, and Gojo's fake smile fell, becoming so straight faced. “Hmm … okay then. Hold these, please and thanks.”
Dropping their bagged gifts into their arms, Gojo warping away was the second sign.
Appearing again before them, with a squirming distressed you in his arms, was the final nail in the coffin.
Gojo hastily set you down, firmly grabbed your sweater sleeve covered hand, and tugged that sleeve up to your shoulder. Even with the blindfold on, you could picture his Six Eyes shrinking to dots at the colorful splotches and littering your once unblemished skin.
“What the hell?” Gojo's shaky raw voice had you gulping.
“How did … when did … Y/n explain yourself!” Geto's perturbed face turned to aggravation.
Keeping your head ducked, you could picture their eyes bearing those same cold, disappointing glazes those curse's nightmares forced you to bear. Your state of panic got triggered!
You wince in pain, trying in vain to tug your hand free of Gojo's iron hold. Warping into the morgue, literally sweeping you off your feet, greeting Shoko, then warping out of the morgue all meant your recovery got cut short.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going!?" Gojo jested, pulling your back against his front, caging you in his hold, knowing to restrain himself on the pressure, gritting his canines at seeing those same colorful marks on the back of your neck. “You better start talking.”
"You mustn't strain yourself any more, either! You can barely walk as is!" Geto irritatedly griped, wrapping his arms around your other one, leaving you wobbling, therefore needing either of them as counterbalance.
"I'll be fine! I'll get better! I'm innocent!" You babbled desperately, wiggling like a worm, to your utter dismay and their annoyance.
Geto narrowed his eyes, downtrodden. "Have you no shame, Y/n? And you three knew about this, didn't you?!” His eyes flared up with scorn as his face whipped to the trio, having all three flinch back at the irritated sight.
“And after all the trouble I went through to get you all gifts!” Gojo dramatically complained.
“Unnecessary to be honest.” Megumi dryly rebuttal.
“My tastes far exceed yours, anyway.” Nobara throwing shade.
“I'll take them all, thank you very much! I felt like telling you Gojo-sensei, I swear! But L/n-sensei was in pain and I just wanted to help her!” Yuji blabbed.
“Softie.” Mimiko and Nanako teased smugly.
“Yuji~!” Gojo weeped.
“I told them to keep quiet. Shoko and Haibara too. Nanami wanted no part in it. It was all my fault!”
Your pleas only riled them up more. Their eyes returned to you, burning intensely, straight into your soul as they cushioned you between their built bodies just like a mating press.
You gasped as Geto's hand slid under your top, his calloused touch sending anxious tingles through you, feeling that tender scar left on your side, lips trembling and eyes wavering. “Honestly believing you could pull the wool over our eyes, dearest? Ridiculous.” Geto belittled.
Gojo scoffed, suddenly frightening as he towered behind you, alarming everyone besides Geto as he pulled down his blindfold to stare down at you now with those glaring Six Eyes. "Screw that. This isn't panning out well for you, darling. Not at all.”
Your weak whines of protest made the teens cringe with pity. Your short self was literally trapped between giants. The atmosphere was so thick with tension that trying to cut it with a knife would mean getting obliterated. GoGe might as well be a bomb.
But to see tears swell up in your e/c eyes and trail down your cheeks, glistening from the guilt, embarrassment and pain, everyone in that room froze in paling realization.
You were the actual bomb.
And you just got set off.
"DON'T HATE ME!"
Your heartbroken scream had the strongest duo become the weakest. Their grips laxing, their tunnel vision eroding, their resolve dusting, as you pulled away freely, tugging your sleeve back down to cover the damage, sat down on the couch to your buckling knees relief, and cried in your tarnished hands, becoming a mess for them all to see.
"L/n-sensei no!!! Please don't cry!!!" Yuji went into a panicked frenzy, squatting down before you, frazzled as you bowed your head against his jacketed shoulder, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to soothe you, sweating bullets at the sight of his once mighty teachers now becoming statues at this turn of events. "None of us hate you! It's okay! Everything's gonna be okay! R–Right guys?!”
"You two are the scum of the Earth, you are! Harassing an injured emotional woman!" Nobara yelled abhorrently in their stunned paled faces, pulling out tissues from her small flowered package she kept in her belt pack along with her cursed tools to offer you. “Here sensei. Take these.”
"I won't blame her if she files for divorce." Megumi gripes under his breath, sitting down beside you, timidly rubbing your back in comforting circles. "L/n-sensei, you need to calm down and rest."
“Geto-sama, do something about this! Mama is a wreck now!” Nanako was willing to put her foot down at this insolence.
“This is depressing.” Mimiko patted your head from behind the couch.
Your desperate need to melt into a puddle and just die from utter disgrace was dashed when you felt Gojo approaching.
His serious blazing eyes spoke for themselves to let him handle you himself, but those kids hesitated letting this slide when the gentle shushing of their usually obnoxious teacher threw them for a loop. Sitting down in the free space on your other side, gently brushing your hair, he leaned in to your ear to confess —
"I'm sorry." You stiffened at his words as they rumbled against your ear. While you were partly miffed and scared due to his attitude, his gentleness returning made you drawn to him all over again, recollecting how much you did miss him — miss them both actually cause OF COURSE YOU DO!!!
Weaving his hand through your hair, he carefully pulled your head to rest against his chest instead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, a shaky vulnerability leaking into his voice. “I'm so sorry.” You dare set down your hands to see his eyes as glittery blue glass. "I shouldn't have snapped like that. I hate seeing you cry like this.” His wandering hand had his fingertips weave through yours to squeeze your hand benignly. “Especially when you're all banged up. I just …”
“I'm deeply sorry as well.” The moment Suguru sat down in Megumi's spot, the kids had already stood back and watched with anticipation as his arms gently hugged your waist from behind, kissing your blotchy cheek, regret radiating on his face. “We both shouldn't have approached you so harshly. We were out of line. We just …”
They were both at a loss for words.
Taking a chance, a risk, a leap of faith, you decide to tell them the truth, rather preferring for them to hear it from you than read it from a document.
“The other night … a special grade curse popped up just when I finished my case … I wanted to prove myself … I thought I could take it on … but Nanami saved me in the end. I was … ashamed … anxious … afraid. It showed me … illusions … nightmares … of you both suffering and abandoning me … and I panicked when you both got upset earlier … I just – !”
“You haven't properly rested at all.” Geto delicately gripped your chin and turned your face to see the dark circles under your now red eyes. “Beloved, you of all people should know that keeping your troubles bottled up inside does no one any good! Least of all hiding your pain from us when we can help!”
“You can't always be there for me … I can't keep weighing you down … but I can't hold my own when it really counts … I'm never gonna be at your level … even as a Grade 1 … by myself … I'm not good enough.” Your eyes squeezed shut, deep seated in this emotional turmoil.
“Yes you are!” The sharp conviction Satoru had made your eyes snap back open. It got your attention attentively. “We still think of them … Kuroi … Amanai … what we could have done differently or better … had we not failed them. If anything happened to you … and if we weren't there to stop it … and it already has … then what the hell’s the point in being the strongest when we can't protect those that matter to us the most?!” You shook as his tears hit your nose, rubbing his wet nose against yours with those beautiful blue eyes now red with compassion looking into yours, for even his watery smile is breathtaking. “You've never been weak. Not to any of us. You kept us together through all the shit thrown our way since that day. I don't need Six Eyes to tell me this truth … that you are the most beautiful, genuine, strongest soul I know you are inside and out.”
“You're the very reason I gathered the courage to reach out to everyone when my resolve wavered … when I lost my way … it's difficult to wear a heartfelt smile in this world …” Sugu's voice slipped for a moment, his almond eyes twinkling as his wet cheek nuzzled yours, pressing a timid kiss to the corner of your lips, another breathtaking smile amiss the waterfalls. “But you brought back my smile. You helped me find a better way … I'm no longer alone. So you don't get to be either. Not anymore.”
Unified, their cracked voices caved.
“We can't lose you too.”
You breathed in their natural scents, submerged in their warmth, coveted in their supportive treasuring embrace, their crying faces resting against either side of your neck, just to be as close to you as possible without hurting you more so than that curse and themselves already have.
In this moment of vulnerability, the strongest duo put down their guards just to show you how immensely you've always mattered to them. Your pain, your sadness, your doubts … they're theirs too.
Your hand that was still being held by Satoru weaved down to rub against Suguru's knuckles, drawing him in to lay his hand atop both yours. “I feel the same way.”
“But damn Y/n, you scared us shitless." Gojo sighed exasperated, now chewing and suckling hungrily on your red cheek just to hear your raspy squeals for their amusement.
"Immensely." Geto hummed conspiratory like, chewing and tugging on your other cheek for good measure, your squeaking making them smirk.
“I'm sorry!” You garbled out, mewling.
Suguru popped off your cheek, pecking it several times apologetically. “We're sorry too. We're just relieved that you're alive.”
Satoru popped off your cheek as well, smooching the welt left in his wake. “Still injured though, but I'll finish healing you myself.”
Catharsis finally came as your waterworks were one of relief. “I missed you both so much~!!!”
"Yosh, yosh~” Satoru doting on you, petting your head like the cutie you will always be in their eyes. “We missed our cutie patootie too~” Now that got you to smile at last, shedding tears of joy, as your chortled laughs made them smile as well.
The kids left you three a while ago when the mushiness kicked in. The twins giggled as Megumi summoned his wolf Shinigami for them to ride on so they could stop pestering him, right before he buried his bashfully blushing face in the crook of Yuji's neck who carried him and Nobara with ease from her own pestering, heading off to do whatever.
Now drained from the mental and emotional trip you went through, all you wanted now was sleep.
And to be honest?
So did the guys.
Your old dorm bed would make do just this once. For old times sake. Warping you three there was easier on an already wiped Gojo, anyway.
Their uniforms, boots, and socks along with your slippers littered the floor.
The AC hummed in the background.
And the drawls of moonlight slipped through the curtains.
Tepid flustered gasps left your parted lips as Satoru sensually trailed his smooth sly hand across every inch of your backside under your top, healing you from that point as you relaxed.
You smothered your face in Satoru's snug black tee covered pecs as he ran his fingers through your hair, languidly brushing it to further soothe you, pecking your forehead. “It wasn't the same without you.”
Suguru carefully splayed on top of you from behind, warmth seeping through his snug white tee and into your cloth covered back, heatedly breathing down your flushed nape as his veiny giant hand caressed your bare tummy underneath your top as well as stroking your thighs with his other hand. “Having you to cuddle again, all snug in between us, truly feels like heaven.”
“No angel to sleep with … oh how did we cope without you~?" Satoru ranted quietly as he could for your sleepy sake.
Suguru gave him a sly smirk. “Satoru~”
Satoru chuckled, ruffling Suguru's loosely free hair, before resting that hand on Suguru's lower back. “Okay, it wasn't bad at all. Even so… can I please just keep us in this moment and never let each other go ever again?” Satoru gently begged.
“As long as I can get some shut eye. And new uniform garbs.” Your cheek nuzzled his chest, consenting in a yawn.
“Deal.” With Six Eyes now switched off, Satoru became heavy-eyed at the sight of his two favorite people in bed with him. Back together again.
“No more bad thoughts for us tonight.” Suguru languorously rumbled in your ear.
“Plus those nightmares will get a kick in the balls if they come back.” Satoru grumbled drowsily.
“If it's a curse, sure. Dreams, not so much.” You mumbled softly.
Satoru could feel your body start to reach the end of its recovery from his healing touch, trailing his hand from your back to cover your hand that rested on the front of his shirt where his heart lay.
Suguru's own hand traversed, resting atop Satoru's, all three splayed on his chest in the same exact spot.
You sagged as you felt the weight of all that battle damage lift right off you, for all the pain got replaced with fuzzy tingling warmth.
Shivering with delight, you felt those two curling in on you from both sides, their legs tangling with yours, as you all smushed in the middle, with Suguru's face against your shoulder and Satoru's in your hair.
“Toru … Sugu … I love you guys.”
Satoru breathed in your scent, smiling drowsily. “We love you too … so damn much.”
"Truly. We'd be lost forever if we never knew you.” Suguru mused languidly.
A tiny smile formed as you succumbed to your long awaited dreamland. “I … feel … the same.”
And the kiddies, poking their heads through the crack in the slide doorway, eyed you snug between those two in just their tees and boxers, your entangled limbed cocoon, the bed comforter halfway touching the floor, as gentle snores and breathing made up your guys personal symphony.
Taking some snapshots for potential blackmail material; basically on Nobara and Megumi's part, they left you three to rest.
Of course, knowing you three, you'll stay in bed all day tomorrow. Whether to sleep, talk, cuddle, make out, do the devil's tango — nah it's all of the above! Meaning no classes.
The weekend is free.
To unwind and reflect.
Your old room feels more homely now that they're there with you.
That night, you’re gifted with cathartic, stress relieving dreams where those two awaited you with smothering embraces and enriching laughter.
Through their tough, imposing, and fierce exteriors …
There lay the true blessings that are their empathy, passion and humanity.
Your chaotically lovestruck sorcerers.
And you, their heaven sent wife, will feel their love till the very end.
And even beyond.
For Infinity.
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jtkys · 7 months
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𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 + 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ☆
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐞. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 :𝟑
𝐭𝐰𝐬/𝐜𝐰𝐬: 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐧 𝐠𝐮𝐭𝐬 (𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐦), 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐣.
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐚𝐟 𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧. 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐝𝟎 (𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫)
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐂𝐒 ->
We’ve had our era years ago of unnecessary twinkification or crps, it’s time to be fr
He’s 6’6. Cause. Yeah. As shown in the middle image above, he’s a big dude. MUSCLES!!!!!
He literally eats people and I personally hc he hunts them down himself, ESPECIALLY if he’s super hungry. So he’s gotta have some muscle on him. (Foaming at the mouth rn)
Has ombré (retractable) claws u will not change my mind. His blood is either the same kinda ooze that comes from his eyes or a dark blue
He’s really fucking warm. Like he’s a god to be around in the winter because he’s just insanely hot. Figuratively and literally
I’m tryna figure out what he voice sounds like in my head, I definitely think it’s really deep. Forgive me but I think he’d sound a bit like corpse husband
He can definitely growl, but almost never does it because there’s no reason to since he’s level headed and hard to piss off, but also because it’s genuinely scary 😭😭
Not my original hc but I saw someone once saying he purrs in his sleep and AGH YES!!!
Has thermal vision: I think I mentioned this before, but I really enjoy this hc. As I’ve Also said before, he’s got really sensitive hearing and smell because of his lack of proper sight.
Is a gentle giant 100%. As much as Jeff can try his hardest to piss him off, he’s hyper aware of his strength and how easily he could tear someone apart if he lost control and that’s the last thing he wants, so he makes sure to keep his cool
Even if he’s somehow managed to get pissed off, if he can’t leave the situation he’ll just get more verbally aggressive (never physically) but if he CAN leave the situation, he removes himself immediately to make sure he or anyone else isn’t hurt.
Is actually really good with Sally and young kids in general, but has no idea how to handle babies. At all. Mostly because he’s scared he’ll drop them, but also because he can’t communicate with them like he can with young kids, and the crying and screaming babies do really upsets his sensitive hearing and ears 😭
Rarely removes his mask around the other creeps, and only really takes it off infront of sally and when it’s a small group of calmer proxies.
Loves loves LOVES to read books. It’s his favourite thing to do in his spare time
He either really loves or hates coffee, I haven’t made my mind up. But I’m pretty certain that he never drinks alcohol, because he doesn’t ever want to be put in a situation where he’s out of control.
Probably smells blood after he’s eaten, but most of the time has a really nice earthy kinda scent to him
He uses Aussie hair products fight me rn. Look me in the eyes and tell me he doesn’t have luscious curls..
uhm sorry he likes sealife and worships David Attenborough i dont make the rules
Really likes the Lego Batman movie. I won’t elaborate
𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐂𝐒 ->
As I said before, gentle giant
Isn’t overly affectionate at first because he’s a lot more nervous than given credit for, and will sometimes overthink it if he wants to hug you or hold your hand because he’s scared of his claws or misjudging his own strength.
So if you wanna hug him I think he’d, at first, just kinda stand there awkwardly and stiffly but would probably give your head a soft pat or rub your back if you insist.
Eventually he’d probably become a lot more comfortable, and more secure and confident that he wouldn’t hurt you
(It’ll take quite a bit or convincing but oh well)
Is more than happy to let you read with him or be in the Same room as him, no matter what you’re doing. Just being in each others company is sweet and enough :D
hugs from behind from this man would be legendary bro. ESPECIALLY CAUSE HES SO WARM AUGH 💔💔
i dont think hes as possessive as the other creeps (cough cough the diy scrub daddy) (jeff) but he can certainly be protective imo
godly cook. bro.. i want him to make me food rn..
as in u call up this mf at 3 in the morning to ask for some spaghetti bolognese with extra cheese and my boy is in the kitchen before u can blink
like the real man he is 🔥🔥🔥🔥
look me in the eyes and try and tell me his claws wouldn't give GODLY scalp massages bro.
Is really good damn attentive, especially when it comes to people he cares for. As in he knows ur sleeping, eating, breathing patterns like the back of his hand to make sure that he notices immediately if anything is wrong
Likes watching his partner sleep NOT IN A CREEPY WAY. just probably finds it really enjoyable and endearing to see someone he cares for so much in such a vulnerable and calm state
He’s so silly I’m in love with him
I’m honestly not sure what kinda pet names he would use, because he doesn’t seem the type to use the generic “babe/baby” to me, but he’s def not like Jeff (who will come up with the most downright jaw droppingly nasty names ever for fun)
He’d probably use either “sweetheart” or “darling” nothing too major, but would probably just mostly use a shortened version of your name or a nickname he gives u. He silly he bbg
Really loves cats. Really really loves them, and will get on one knee and propose to you if you have any (/hj.)
>>>
𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚/𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐣 𝐬𝐨 :𝟑
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐩
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nanoa1foryou · 1 year
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I love how you can hear the smile in Corpse's voice when he talks to Foolish. They are so dear to me
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nikkisix · 1 year
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Corpse Husband Comforts you
Fanart by K
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I need help honestly. I just have to get this one off my chest 😩I can't stop thinking about this 😫 Don't judge
Corpse Husband:*wakes up when he heard you crying* Hey, what's wrong Kitten?
Y/N:I was bullied online. *sniffles*
Corpse Husband:I'm so sorry. Lemme hold you.
Y/N:*cuddles up with Corpse*
Corpse Husband:I'm here for you. Just ignore them. You're perfect in your way, kitten.
Y/N:*lays your head against Corpse's chest, listening to his heart thumping*
Corpse Husband:It's okay. I'm not gonna let anyone harm you.
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ansloww · 23 days
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I'd love to see some headcanons of reader who knew Alastor when he was alive and then meeting him again in hell! Fluff, and sfw but you can add nsfw if you want to!
Ignore if you don't want to do it, thanks! <3
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warnings : male reader, fluff, don’t mind fem but don’t fetish it = blocked, established relationship, mention of blood, ooc Alastor (?),short and rushed.
summary ; [request]
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𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇,,
[Name] met Alastor in high school, in high school people would call them the ‘high school sweetheart’. Their relationship was healthy, sweet and easy. It leads them to an early marriage in their 20s. Him and Alastor would spend time together by going to dates, hangout and others.
Alastor couldn’t really describe his emotions towards him but, he knew that every time he saw him it makes his heart flutters. His lover’s smile, laugh,eyes make his face reddened from the blush. He didn’t knew what was love before high school, he never experienced it before he met [Name].
Years after the marriage, something bad happened to his husband, blood was everywhere, the only thing he could see was red and the corpse of someone were his. he died in hallway from the stab wounds. The person who killed his partner was the father of the victim he killed shortly before. He wished that heaven was good enough for you to stay, but he won’t be able to see him again he doesn’t deserve a place in heaven.
It’s been awhile since [Nickname] and Alastor last saw each other, the radio demon always wondered who was his husband, if heaven was great. He hoped to see you again.
The overload was walking on the street, having that wide smile with his sharp teeth showing off, the street was noisy people steal, bombed, etc the city it was quite the usual for the red haired male.
Someone accidentally bumped into to his chest and looked down at them, the only thing that came out of the deer demon’s mouth was a chuckle, he seemed irritated, the stranger didn’t apologize to him. He leaned to their face, invade their comfort zone. "My dear, shouldn’t you apologize when you bump into someone ?" No answer, no answer came out of their mouth.
"ah, and you are ?" This voice was familiar to Alastor, he didn’t thought much about their voice. "Alastor, from the radio show, quite a pleasure to meet you, you fellow demon." The shorter demon grew silent just by hearing the name of Alastor.
The demon took off their hoods, revealing their face. Alastor’s eyes widened his grinned grew wider than before "[Name] ! It’s been awhile !" He exclaimed himself, god he missed him so much. The [brunette,etc] male smiled as a small blush appeared on his face
[A/N not dead (yet) ]
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x-reader-theater · 6 months
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Secret Messages from a Lover
summary: While you're streaming, your boyfriend sends you a message.
pairing: Corpse Husband x Gender Neutral Reader (no pronouns are used.)
word count: 670
warnings: none.
a/n: i really just needed to write something so self-indulgent because god i want this so bad. i figured others want it too. i've been so depressed lately that I just need a little fantasy, you know? my requests are open, and you can find my request rules here.
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“God, that video is so fucking funny,” you say, pulling your blanket around your shoulders tighter with one hand while the other brings your patterned tumbler with the sparkly straw up to your mouth, so you can drink your water. Your knees pull further up to your chest, which is easily done in your very spacious gaming chair. “OTV never fucking misses.”
You press a button on your stream deck, switching from the video you were just watching to your face, with chat scrolling in the top left-hand corner. You take another sip from your tumbler and pick out one of the comments passing by, scrolling to stop it from moving as you read it aloud.
“Were you on the newest Fear& episode? I was. QT, Hasan, Will, and I just kinda chatted for a bit. That was a good fucking episode, though,” you say with a grin. “Love those guys. QT especially, she’s fucking hilarious. She makes me laugh so fucking hard whenever I talk to her, even if we disagree on Taylor Swift.”
You keep scrolling back down, so you can keep seeing the comments when another one jumps out at you. “Are you gonna keep streaming? Yeah, chatter, I actually just started before that OTV video. I think Toast is gonna invite me to some Pico Park today? If not, I’ll just play some Valorant or something to pass the time. I gotta git good if I wanna beat, well, anyone,” you admit with a laugh, hiding your shame by taking another drink of water.
You see your phone light up in front of you. It’s a Discord notification, which you quickly check on your second monitor, assuming it’s Toast inviting you to the Discord call.
It’s not. It’s your boyfriend, Corpse.
“You look so cute today babe. You look so cosy wrapped up in your blanket and your smile is so bright. I'll never get tired of seeing it. I love you and have a good stream 🖤”
You feel your cheeks heat up at that, and you take a sip of your water to try and hide your reaction. You haven’t told anyone you're dating Corpse yet, and you have no plans on it any time soon, but he makes you so happy you find it hard not to blurt it out whenever you can.
You send back a bunch of yellow hearts and an “I love you too!!!!!!! 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛”, biting your lip as you type on your very satisfying, clack-y keyboard.
That’s when you get the notification from Toast to join the shared call.
“Ah! Toast’s calling!” you exclaim for the benefit of your audience.
You quickly join the call, the connection sound filling you comfortable, over the ear headphones.
“Hey! What’s up!” you say into the call, getting a couple of “Hey!”’s and “Hello!”’s back.
Then you hear a familiar voice say, “What’s up.”
“Corpse!” You’re grinning at this point as you continue, “I didn't know you were gonna be playing!”
“Uh, yeah. Toast invited me last minute. Surprise?” he says like it’s a bad thing.
“We haven’t played anything together in a while and I saw him online and thought, ‘Fuck it,’ yaknow?” Toast asks and you chuckle.
“Well, it’s good to talk to you again, Corpse,” you say, setting your tumbler down on your desk. He got you that tumbler for your birthday not long ago, and it’s your favourite thing you own. He also got you the blanket that’s wrapped around your shoulders for your six-month anniversary, and it’s the warmest blanket in your house. You always wear it when you stream because the A/C is always blasting.
“It’s good to talk to you too,” you say, shivering as your heart hammers at his words.
You begin loading up Pico Park, just listening to everyone talk to each other, when you get another notification on Discord.
“I love you 🖤” it says.
“I love you too 💛” you reply, smiling into the camera for just a moment, just for him.
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yunjinified · 6 months
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Minghao fic recs
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✿=personal favourites
note: all of the fics i have recommended either have a female or gender neutral reader. this will constantly be updated.
terrified by @lovelyhan warnings and genre: smut, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, idolverse, established relationship, extremely slight angst. word count: N/A
✿rush hour by @lovelyhan warnings and genre: smut, enemies to lovers, dancer au, unresolved sexual tension, promiscuous behaviour in public. word count: 6700
golden hour by @synthetickitsune warnings and genre: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, blond minghao. word count: 1500
✿fixer upper by @seungkwansphd warnings and genre: smut, slow burn, affectionate member slander. word count: 9500
impatient by @ressonancee warnings and genre: friends with benefits, smut, humor, brat!reader, sub and dom undertones. word count: 3040
love bleeds lilac by @hoeforhao warnings and genre: non idol!minghao, fluff, slight mentions of mental health issues, angst but not angst, discovering self love, comfort. word count: N/A
10:52pm by @blue-jisungs warnings and genre: N/A word count: N/A
to love easily by @minghaoyoudoin warnings and genre: fake dating, smut, angst, fluff, non idol au, non idol!minghao, mentions of cheating and resulting in trauma, food consumption, kissing, dirty talk, pet name(darling), explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex(m and f receiving), vaginal penetration, marking. word count:13 500
whisper game by @sunnylovespickles warnings and genre: smut, public sex, fingering, gagging, spit as lube, marking, horny minghao, pet names. word count: 960
smut prompt event(minghao) by @hoeforhao warnings and genre: smut word count: N/A
opposites attract by @rubyreduji warnings and genre: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, thigh high kink, creampie. word count: 1800
April 12th, 3:36pm by @gyupinkys warnings and genre: smut, mafia!minghao, yandere!reader, murder, gore, violence, guns, weapons, toxic relationship, manipulation, yandere, unprotected sex, public sex, sex with corpse in the room, scary dirty talk. word count:2700
idubilu by @toruro warnings and genre: smut, ceo!minghao, husband!minghao, fluff, oral(f receiving), pet names(princess, pretty). word count: 2800
(pretty) hungry by @icyminghao warnings and genre: fluff, drabble, established relationship, mentions of food. word count: 600
i don't understand (but i love you) by @icyminghao warnings and genre: fluff, some angst, comfort, established relationship. word count: 1500
4:18am by @number1mingyustan warnings and genre: smut, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, multiple orgasms, mentions of sex, grinding, hands, pianist!minghao. word count: 2300
✿wrong turn by @meltwonu warnings and genre: vampire au, smut, dom!minghao, vampire!minghao, small about of blood play, dirty talk, degradation, fucking in public, overstimulation, squirting. word count: 3000
home yet? by @idyllicdeco warnings and genre: smut, subspace minghao. word count: 1700
22:34 by @toruro warnings and genre: smut, vibrators, pet names(pretty thing) word count: 610+
part 1:chérie by @venerex warnings and genre: duke!minghao, smut, oral(f receiving), fingering, virgin! reader. word count: 2500 part2:the poet by @venerex warnings and genre: smut, duke!minghao, fingering, virgin!reader. word count: 2300 Part3:mon amour by @venerex warnings and genre: duke!minghao, smut, fingering, intercouse, reader's first time, talks of having children, reader passes out. word count: 1900
blocked contacts by @jae-bummer warnings and genre: angst, fluff. word count: N/A
f* me, emo boy by @sunnylovespickles warnings and genre: rock guitarist!minghao, smut. word count: 1800
✿the letter by @toruro warnings and genre: jun's little sister!reader, slow burn, angst, fluff, childhood f2l, idol au, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, arguments, pent up emotions, miscommunication, hot headed reader. word count: 26 000 the letter(smut) by @toruro warnings and genre: smut, oral(f receiving, fluff. word count: 1300
✿red (k)nights by @toruro warnings and genre: knight!minghao, smut, fluff, royal au, princess!reader, secret relationship. word count:6700
oh my! by @toruro warnings and genre: smut, oral(m receiving), mutual pinig, fluff, mentioned past toxic/controlling relationships. word count: 13 600
dreamt of heaven by @jeonride warnings and genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, fiance!minghao, profanity, somnophilia, slight voyeurism, oral(f receiving), hand job, fingering, pet names(angel), praise. word count: 2400
✿felix felicis by @blue-jisungs warnings and genre: fluff, light angst, hurt and comfort, humour, slytherin!minghao, hufflepuff!reader, mentions of social anxiety, swearing. word count: 7000
✿now or never series by @heartkyeom series warnings and genre: strangers to lovers, ex!joshua, fake marriage, angst, fluff, mentions of food, big crowds, mentions of chronic illness, journalist!seokmin, food, smut, brief flashbacks, mentions of family planning, oral sex, descriptions of female anatomy, blowjobs, long car rides, cursing, dumbification, alcohol, fighting. word count: N/A, 5 chapters
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