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moririki · 3 years

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⤷ PUSHING THE LIMITS

TSUKISHIMA KEI X READER -> 2.7K you decide to see how far you can push your boyfriend before he snaps

REQUEST -> ✰ CONTAINS -> SMUT!!!!!, bratty reader i GUESS, uhm my second smut ever so quality won't be amazing, fingering, oral (giving), unprotected sex, , tsukki teasing you <3, but hes also soft at the end brrr MORI'S THOUGHTS -> WOOOWOOOO 100 FOLLOWERS EVENT IS A GO!!! sry about the quality dipping halfway through i did not write this in one sitting ✌️

YOU KNEW THAT YOU WERE COMING OVER TO YOUR BOYFRIEND'S DORM TO STUDY, but when he greeted you with a searing kiss that was enough to have you trying to catch your breath, you realised that he may or may not be wanting to play dirty. he had a history project, you had an essay to finish, the two of you were fairly busy. luckily working together in a comfortable silence worked surprisingly well for the both of you. most of the time, anyway.

but you were still reeling from his kiss and your thoughts were straying far from the subject material needed to finish your paper. only ten minutes in to your study session, you were ready to call it a night and spend some quality time with tsukishima. currently, the two of you were lying side by side on his bed, trying not to slip off the edge due to how narrow it was. while your pen had stilled on its page, tsukishima was rapidly typing away on his laptop with slightly furrowed brows.

even with his facial features scrunched up, you still found yourself admiring your boyfriend's face as he concentrated on his project. the reflection of the laptop on his glasses only added to the look, and you almost found yourself sighing dreamily at how handsome he looked.

"quit staring, idiot," tsukishima mumbled without glancing up from his work. when you didn't make a single movement to follow his suggestion, his eyes flicked towards you with an unimpressed expression adorning his face. he raised a hand from the jeyboard to flick your forehead lightly, just enough to make you huff and return to your notebook. though yiu already had gotten the structure and general points already planned out, the actual construction of your essay was yet to happen. instead, you twirled your pen before raising it to your lips. you bit your lip in mock thought on just how to start writing your essay, though a more satisfying result occured when you heard a sharp intake of breath from beside you.

you tried not to look too smug as you turned to look at your boyfriend in amusement.

"look who's staring now, kei," you smiled up at him and he glowered at you.

"bite your lip once more, i dare you." you only giggled at his threat, seeing as he was playing directly into your hand.

but now you had to play a waiting game, so you went back to your essay. you even managed to complete an opening paragraph before deciding to ramp things up a notch.

you faked a yawn, arching your back as you stretched before rolling over, closer to tsukishima. you ended up on your back, practically underneath him, with his golden eyes watching you carefully. they remained trained on your face as you batted your eyelashes at him, before trailing down to your mouth again as you oh-so-carefully tugged your bottom lip between your teeth.

you barely had time to blink before you found yourself really lying underneath him, one of his hands resting against your face, his thumb coaxing your bottom lip back out from your teeth. the other had collected your hands, pinning them above your head by the wrist with ease.

"i thought i told you not to do that again, hm?" despite his tone, kei's eyes had some glint of mischief in them, enough to make you squirm under his grasp.

"oops." the way the smile never dropped from your face did little to convince kei that you were sincere, but he knew you were looking for some sort of reaction when you held his gaze as you parted your lips, softly biting the tip of his thumb.

you watched the way his eyes darkened from above and his grip on your wrists tightened. kei surged forwards, pressing his lips to yours roughly and you grinned as you kissed him back with as much vigour. the hand that had been on your jaw now travelled downwards before reaching your bare thigh.

kei gripped it harshly, hiking it up roughly to latch around his waist. you hummed into the kiss at the sensation, digging your heel into his back to feel some friction from his crotch rubbing against your thigh. kei groaned at the sensation, breaking the kiss to glare at you.

"you're such a brat."

"yeah, but you love me." you grinned up at him, face flushed and body practically buzzing from his touch.

kei muttered a "whatever" before kissing you again, harder than before. his hips rolled against yours, making your breath hitch in your throat. you tried to free your wrists to wrap your arms around his shoulders, anything to get him closer to you, but it was futile. kei snickered at your attempt to overpower him, though he had some mercy when he pulled away again to slip off your shorts with his free hand. you clamped your thighs together when you were left in just your underwear and under the scrutiny of your boyfriend.

"don't go shy on me now, pretty," kei teased you, rubbing soft circles into the plush of your thighs with his thumb. you flustered at the pet name, but let him part your legs and hook a finger along the waistband of your panties and drag them down your legs ever so slowly.

the cold air of the room made you clench slightly, but kei blowing on your pussy made you gasp and squirm in his hold. kei smirked at your reaction, trailing a single pretty finger of his around your entrance, humming at how wet you already were.

"you're really making my job a lot easier, pretty," he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he slowly slipped a single finger inside you. you sucked in a shaky breath as he curled it inside you, feeling him reach the spongy spot which had you tensing and moaning softly.

his palm rested against your clit, the slight roughness of it proving to be enough stimulation. you found your hips raising, desperate for more friction, but kei's hand stilled as you whined from underneath him.

"come on, what happened to being patient?" he teased. you managed to glare back at him, before kei dipped his head again and decorated the column of your neck with deliberate kisses that had your head tilted back with pleasure. kei's finger started moving again, leaving your body blistering with sensations that were quickly building up to your release.

kei soon added another finger, with you moaning at the additional stretch. he scissored them inside you, stretching your walls out and leaving your toes curling. with his lips never stopping from administering hickeys all across your collarbones, you felt the heady buzz of an orgasm start to wash over you. you felt your lower stomach tighten in anticipation, only for it all to be ripped away from you at the last minute as kei removed his fingers from your hole, now sopping wet with your slick.

"what do you say that we put your mouth to good use, huh?" you could only nod at tsukishima's suggestion as your chest rose and fell rapidly, head still spinning from being taken so close to the edge. you just about registered tsukishima raising his hand and bringing his souled fingers to your mouth.

without a single word from him, your lips parted and you welcomed his two fingers into your mouth, sucking on them softly to clean them and tasting yourself on him. kei groaned at how compliant you were, pulling his fingers free before connecting your lips with his once again. he could taste the faintest trace of you on your tongue, and this dragged a soft moan from him that went through you like a shock if electricity.

with that, tsukishima finally released your wrists, leaning back before getting off of the bed. he grabbed hold of your ankles, dragging you until you were seated at the edge of the bed right in front of him, staring up at him expectantly with your heartbeat running wild. kei almost cooed at the lovestruck expression in your eyes, but he chose to lean back, eyes appraising your figure in a leisurely manner.

"strip for me." you almost took a double take at his words, though the tone showed just hiw serious he was being. his eyes were hungry as they zeroed in on your fingers curling around the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head fluidly so that your top half matched your bottom. "aww, aren't you eager," kei crooned, his hand cradling your face. if you weren't blushing profusely from his remark you might have asked him about his own flushed cheeks.

instead, you diverted your attention to his own shirt, tugging at it softly to prompt him to do the same as you had seconds ago. kei caught on quickly, tugging the material over his head along with your help, your hands smoothing over his toned skin as soon as it was revealed. with your wrists finally freed, you could touch him just as much as you wanted, and you did. your fingers trailed down his sides and back up again, tracing patterns into his skin. you decoded to be brave, hooking your fingers into his waistband and pulling his body closer to you, to which kei gladly complied.

then your mouth was on him, leaving open mouthed kisses that trailed dangerously lower down his v-line. you came back up, making sure to suck a hickey into the skin just above his hip where a rare mole rested. you heard another shaky intake of breath from your lover, and felt a small jab of satisfaction at the sound. you felt fingers thread theough your hair, before pulling on it and forcing your head back until you were locking eyes with tsukishima.

"i think your mouth can do something else now, hm?" you nodded as best as you could, pulling your lip between your teeth as you focused on the rather visible bulge under your boyfriend's sweatpants. you curled fingers underneath his waistband once more, pulling both his sweats and boxers down in one go.

kei's dick, now freed, slapped against his stomach, already leaking precum that had inevitably soaked the material of his boxers. you pumped his length with your hand a few times, able to slide it up and down easily due to his precum, before taking him into your mouth.

no matter how many times you've done this, you still struggled to fully swallow his length. you still managed a great amount, and the rest was handled with your hand. you bobbed your head, setting your own pace and resisting the urge to gag when you felt his tip hit the back of your throat.

you settled into a rhythm, relaxing your jaw and placing a hand on his thigh to brace yourself. you coukd hear his groans from above you and it spurred you on, even thiugh your lungs were starting to burn from a lack of breathing.

before the sensation got unbearable, kei laced his fingers in your hair and pulled you away from his dick. when you looked up at his face you couldn't help but admire how pretty your boyfriend was all over again. while last time he had been focusing on a history project, his cheeks were flushed and he was out of breath, even going ahead and biting his own lip now. you thought the urge to be sarcastic about it.

"fuck, pretty, i can't wait," kei groaned, his fingers finding purchase on your hips and helping you lift them. in one swift motions, you hd been turned so that now you were on your hands and knees, feet hanging off the edge of the bed. you felt a hand smooth over the small of your back before kei leaned over you, his body radiating warmth as he pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder- a nonverbal question as to whether you were ok. when you looked back at his face and nodded, your boyfriend grinned before turning his attention to his dick.

he used a hand to position it, just barely parting your folds. you whined at the contact and how kei was teasing you, running the tip between your folds as you squirmed.

"kei, please," you pleaded breathily, and the hand that he rested on your back stilled.

"that's all you had to say, pretty," he mumbled, before pushing into you.

you moaned at the sensation, enjoying the stretch of him filling you up as he bottomed out. after a few moments of him staying still, you reached behind you to squeeze his hand and remind him that yes, he could in fact move.

at your confirmation kei placed his hands on your hips, keeping them still as he pulled out then thrusted back in, eliciting a soft moan from you. kei groaned in unison, the timbre of his voice making you clench around him. his hips never stilled, picking up a pace that had you moaning unashamedly and fisting kei's bedsheets as his dick hit the spot inside you which had you seeing stars.

a particularly hard thrust had you falling to your elbows as your arms gave out. the new angle only helped kei hit deeper and you practically screamed into the sheets at the stimulation.

"kei, fuck!" you barely sounded coherent, and the sound of your fucked-out voice just spurred kei on with his brutal pace. his thrusts were starting to lose their rhythm, though, and kei could tell that you were close too from the erratic spasms of your walls.

you couldn't even warn him that you were going to cum when kei brought a hand down to your clit, providing just that extra amount of friction to send you over the edge with a cry. that didn't stop kei from thrusting into you, helping you ride out your high as he let out a groan from the feeling of you clamping down around him.

he indulged in a few more thrusts before pulling out, pumping his length to finish before cumming on the shallow dip of your lower back. he then rather unceremoniously flopped down onto the bed next to you, joining you in the breathless afterglow of both of your orgasms.

after a few minutes, he rolled over to pepper kisses along your shoulderblade and run a hand down your back, careful to avoid the mess that he made.

"you feel like finishing that essay now, brat?" you giggled at his question, curling your hand around his as your spent body regained still regained strength.

"mm, maybe tomorrow," you hummed. kei kissed your shoulder one last time before getting up, padding off to the bathroom to clean himself up. you heard the distant sound of a tap running for a few seconds before kei came back to you, wet towel in hand. you felt the warmth of it against your back as kei cleaned you up, before handing it to you to clean the rest of yourself as he pulled on his sweatpants.

after you finished, he then handed you his sweatshirt, helping your tired arms to pull it over your head so that you were swaddled in the cloth.

the two of you lay down in tsukishima's bed, your back to his chest as you shared the same pillow. with the average hours of sleep that you both got as university students, this rest was needed. one of kei's hands came up

to tilt your face to look at his before he captured your lips in a kiss, albeit softer than the others he had given you earlier.

"goodnight, brat," he whispered to you.

"love you too, tsukki," you mumbled, already feeling the embrace of sleep tugging you towards unconsciousness. your boyfriend tugged you closer as well, pressing his face into your shoulder and making you grin in the dark.

that smile only widened when you heard the quietest love you too escape his lips minutes later, when he thought you had fallen asleep.

"i heard that, you know." kei only grumbled, squeezing you tighter.

"no you didn't, go to sleep."

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titanicsimp · 3 years

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Rising star

Pairing: Enji Todoroki x Female!Reader

Genres: Smut

Warnings: Sexual content including; vaginal and anal sex, creampies, degrading talk, general rough sex, manhandling, name calling, slight voyeurism, thigh riding.

Summary: You have been rising through the pro hero ranks like a rocket, and you can’t help but tease the new number one about it.

A/N: I’m a Enji fucker and I’m proud! 🗣

“And now, the pro hero ranked as number four this year is...”

“Ironheart!”

You could barely believe it as you jumped up from your seat. You made it into the top five!

You waved at the crowd, a big smile on your face as you joined the others on stage. The bright lights and camera flashes were a little overwhelming, but you could get used to it.

God did you feel good. You could take on the world in that moment, basking in the cheers of your fans. Last year you had been ranked twentieth, so this leap was huge.

As the announcer went back to announcing the list, you peaked over at the current number one hero. Endeavor was standing stone faced as always, but you caught him glancing at you from the side.

You smirked. You could practically smell the resentment from here. How thrilling, you would have to pay the flame hero a visit later.

Getting into Endeavor’s VIP room at the event had been a doozy. The guard had been too starstruck, only asking you to give him an autograph. You had cringed at the picture he had made you sign. It was one from the shoot the hero agency made you do, which had been done to market on your sex appeal. But you had pushed aside your agitation and walked right into Endeavor’s room.

The space they gave him is excessive really. The room is extremely spacious even though it’s equipted with two full sized couches, a long coffee table, and a bar with barstools and all.

Endeavor is sitting on the couch that faces the door, busy signing pictures of himself which he’ll be giving out later.

It takes only a second for him to notice you, and when he does he immediately puts on his flames. You chuckle under you breath. Really, who is he keeping the appearance up for?

“Long time no see, Endeavor.” You purr as you stride over to him.

He looks annoyed, so nothing new. “Get out.”

You scoff. “Not even a congratulations? I think I’m rising through the ranks faster than you ever have.”

You notice his eyebrow twitch at your comment. He’s so predictable.

“Number four is still a long way from number one.”

You touch his knee, stroking your hand up his leg gingerly. “Yet I’m standing so close to it.”

He regards you calculatingly with those blue eyes of his. “What do you want?”

You pull back your hand with a bright smile. “Well, I thought we could get to know each other better. Us being colleagues... or perhaps rivals, as some may call it.”

Endeavor crosses his arms. “I doubt anyone would regard us as rivals. You’re too far behind me.”

“Hhmm, you say that but I saw that little glance when we were up on the stage. Seems I’ve been on your mind, Endeavor.” You tell him.

You walk around the couch and go to stand behind him. Most people would back up from his flames, but you had nothing to worry about. The metal wristbands you wear start shifting under the influence of your quirk, quickly ungulfing your arms and hands so the metal fits around them like a glove.

You put your arms over Endeavor’s shoulders without care. He grunts disapprovingly, but does nothing to stop it.

“Your flames feel slightly hotter than last time, good job!” You giggle.

He sighs your name, not your hero name, but your real name. “Stop wasting my time.”

His flames die down and it seems like he really is done playing with you. You retract the metal around you back to look like simple wristbands.

You jump over the couch and sit down next to him, giving him sad eyes. “Who thought a flame hero could be so cold?”

“Especially after our little bathroom adventure last year...”

You feel Enji stiffen beside you. “Or do you do that with all upcoming heroes?”

You throw your legs over his lap, grinning at him. Yeah, that’s what you thought, he hasn’t forgotten.

Though he tries to keep his face straight, you can see it starting to crack. “You still don’t know what’s good for you.”

“I felt pretty good last time.” You quip back, and he finally snaps.

Enji throws your legs off of his lap and grabs your face, his big hand engulfing your chin and cheeks. “You need to be put in your place.”

You bat your eyelashes at him. “Why don’t you help me with that, number one?”

His free hand forces your legs open and cups your core through your herosuit. You both groan when his thick fingers rub over your slit, pushing the tight fabric and your panties against it.

“How do you even fight in this thing.” Enji says disapprovingly.

You roll your eyes. It’s not like you are the only hero in this room with a skin tight suit, and he seems to be enjoying it well enough.

A loud ripping sounds throughout the room and you gasp in shock at the hole he has created in your suit, exposing your panties.

You try to move to stop him before he can ruin that fabric as well, but within the seconds it takes you to react it’s too late. “Bastard!”

Enji chuckles. “Can’t afford to replace them?”

He knows damn well you can. You might not be ultra rich like him, but your hero career sure has payed off.

Sliding his fingers through your wetness testingly, he gives you a mocking grin. You buck up into his touch without embarrassment, he’s doing exactly what you want after all.

Enji’s grabs you and drags you onto his lap without a word. When you go to grind against his bulge, he stops you. He corrects you to sit on one of his thighs, giving you a pointed look.

You smirk at him. “How dirty of you, Enji.”

“Shut up and grind.” He growls in response.

Happily obliging, you sway your hips, dragging your wetness across his thigh. The fabric of his suit is a bit rough, but it only adds to the friction.

Enji brings his hand to your throat, squeezing it lightly as you ride his thigh. You smile at him, softly moaning under your breath.

“Look at you, getting off on rubbing yourself against me like a bitch in heat.” He says with a condescending tone, but his body tells a different story.

You can see the large tent in his pants, making his excitement quite obvious.

A whimper leaves your mouth when his fingers squeeze tighter and a rush of wetness slicks your thighs.

Enji’s gaze turns darker with lust the longer he watches you slide yourself up and down his thigh. Getting an idea, you lean forward and lick across the length of his neck, causing him to shiver under you.

Maintaining a tight grip on your neck, he moves you off of him and then throws you onto the coffee table in front of the couch.

A oof leaves your mouth as you hit the wood, the slam having slightly taken your breath. When Enji looms over you, you shoot him a grin. Would’ve been a real smacker if your skin wasn’t infused with minuscule metal pieces.

The corners of his mouth turn upwards at seeing your reaction. Being able to throw you around without consequence turns him on to no end.

Enji flips you over, propping your ass up. You grab onto the end of the table. If it will be anything like last time, you’ll need something to hold onto.

You bite your lip when he drags his cock through your wetness. God, it’s your favorite part of him without a doubt.

“Are you ready?” Enji asks from behind you, but as you open your mouth to answer, he slams his cock all the way inside of you in a swift thrust.

You scream loudly at the feeling of his thick length stretching you out. It stings a bit, but in all the ways you like.

His big hands grab onto your ass as he starts fucking into you, groaning loudly.

His thrusts are so hard and his pace changes constantly, making you grab onto the table so hard your fingers turn white.

“A slut like you will never outrank me.” Enji growls, his grip on you tightening.

You mewl at his statement. Him talking down to you only makes your walls clench around his cock.

He lifts one hand off of your ass, only to bring it down in a hard slap. Noises and cries escape your lips without stopping as he spanks your ass and continues to ram him himself into you.

“That useless guard is still outside, I wonder if he’s hearing you cry out for my cock.” He pants out.

“I bet he’s enjoying it.” You get interrupted multiple times by Enji’s thrusts, but you get your sentence out eventually.

“Ah Endeavor!” You scream out extra loudly on purpose.

You feel his cock twitch inside you. “Giving him a show?”

You giggle breathlessly. “Come now, don’t be jealous.”

With a rip, Enji tears your suit up further, exposing your asshole as well. You hear him spit on his hand before he presses one finger into your ass. Your back arches at the new sensation and your cunt twitches in pleasure.

“Scream then.” He commands, slowing his pace just slightly so he can finger your ass.

As soon as he feels you relax, he adds a second, and your eyes tear up at the fullness. You start feeling so hot, and you have no doubt that it’s radiating from Enji.

When he rubs his fingers against your wall where he feels his cock, you cum suddenly. Your vision goes blank for a second as your orgasm washes over you, your legs shaking violently.

With a loud groan, Enji follows suit and empties himself inside of your cunt. His pace doesn’t slow down for quite a bit, fucking his cum into you.

When he’s finished, he pulls out of you suddenly, letting his cum drip out onto his cock. He fists his length, lubing it up with your mixed juices.

You can sense what’s coming next, Enji’s fingers still in your ass.

“Tell him what I’m about to do.” He tells you.

It takes you a moment to even remember the guard, but when you do you smirk. Seems like it gets Enji’s fire going, so why not.

“Please Endeavor, fuck my ass!” You yell out.

He removes his fingers and presses the head of his cock against your tight hole. “I’m going to have you walking around with cum dripping from your holes like the dirty slut you are.”

With that promise, he presses forward into you. He goes slower when entering your ass, but you still struggle to keep up.

When fully seated inside you, he gives your ass a loud slap, causing you to yelp out. As soon as he starts thrusting, you both know that neither of you is going to last long.

Enji’s fingers find your clit, rubbing and pinching at it as he fucks into you.

By this point you’re a sweating, drooling mess, and when you approach another orgasm, you whine desperately. “Fuck Endeavor, ruin me!”

His low chuckle makes a shiver run over your spine. “As you wish.”

He starts slamming himself into you, not holding back in the slightest. Your chest pushes against the table aggressively as he fucks you into it.

You cry out his name as with a last rub at your clit, you cum again. The table is a blessing as your legs give out, keeping your body up.

Enji uses your body till he’s cumming again as well. Your body already feels so hot, and his cum filling you ass too doesn’t help. You whimper and flex your sore fingers from grabbing on when he pulls out.

Your ass, cunt and thighs are absolutely drenched in his cum, his thick loads still leaking out of you.

Too tired to move for now, you watch as Enji grabs a marker from the table. He scribbles something onto your asscheek, giving it a final slap afterwards.

He comes into vision after he has adjusted his suit, his figure showing no trace of what the two of you just did.

“Let’s do this again, hero.” He tells you as he throws the marker at you, the last word clearly mocking.

Later, when you go to clean up, you spot what he wrote in the mirror. You smirk as you look at the phone number that he wrote onto your asscheek. Snapping a quick picture of your cum covered ass, you send it to his number with the message ‘I knew you’d warm up to me ♥️’.

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itadorisgf · 3 years

Text

YOU MAKE IT DIFFICULT TO NOT OVERTHINK.

note: fushiguro megumi pls reply to my text messages

word count: 1.5k

pairing: fushiguro megumi x gn!reader

warning: takes place after fushiguro gets his shit rocked by tōdō, blood, mention of injuries

The word plagues you the moment it falls from his lips.

“As long as a person is compassionate, then I don’t need anything else.”

What did he mean by that?

You glance sideways at Kugisaki and Maki who are too engrossed in conversation to pay you much mind. Good. You slip your phone, which managed to escape unscathed following your encounter with Maki’s rather unpleasant twin, out of your pocket and unlock it. It’s not as if you’re unfamiliar with the word, but you type it into the search engine anyways to look up its exact definition.

A definition pops up instantly after you press enter. “Compassionate: feeling or showing sympathy and concern for others.” Your brows unconsciously pinch together as you read the definition a second time. You gnaw on your lower lip, hissing when your teeth accidentally come in contact with a cut. You bring your hand up to your lip, tenderly pressing your forefinger against the thin cut, and then pulling it away to look at it. The cut still stings but at least it’s not bleeding anymore.

Your mind wanders back to Fushiguro’s words, and you can’t help but feel unsettled by them. It’s too…simple. How is it that the only quality that Fushiguro desires in a romantic partner is compassion?

It’s simple, but at the same time, it’s not. Compassion is intangible. It’s not a physical quality that you could simply check off if you had it or not. It’s a feeling that one possesses, and can only be seen through the actions that one takes. You kind of wish Fushiguro had said something shallow instead. Even if you didn’t fit his type at least there wouldn’t be any room to overthink it at all. You would be able to wallow in self-pity for a while that your crush on him would go unreciprocated and then move on afterwards.

But, that’s not who Fushiguro is.

“What’s the face for?” You lift your head up to look at Maki and Kugisaki. You answer Maki’s expectant gaze with a shrug of your shoulders while slipping your phone back into your pocket.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about the Exchange Event.” You slightly shrink under Maki’s unrelenting stare before she turns to look forward once more as Kugisaki launches all three of you into a discussion about the upcoming event. You’re thankful that Maki didn’t press you for more information when you both know that you were lying straight through your teeth. She’ll drop the issue for now and wait until you eventually come to her about it.

You mainly listen to the two converse, popping in here and there to add your own comment, but Fushiguro’s words continue to weigh heavily on your mind. You’re lost in thought once more when you hear Kugisaki gasp from beside you. Looking up to see what caused such a reaction from your friend, you release a gasp of your own as you take in Fushiguro’s bloodied state.

He’s holding a piece of cloth, soaked through with red, to the side of his head. His clothes are soiled and blood is smeared across the entirety of the upper area of his face. He looks like shit, but he’s standing up with the help of Panda and Inumaki, who each have an arm hooked under his shoulder.

“Fushiguro?” He raises his head at the sound of your voice. You rush over to Fushiguro’s side, replacing Inumaki, who slips out of your way with no complaint, and slide an arm around his torso to help support his weight. “What happened to you?”

“Tōdō,” he mutters, wincing when Panda jostles him a bit too roughly. You grimace upon hearing the name. You didn’t realize that Tōdō would have roughed up Fushiguro to this extent, but you weren’t too surprised. Tōdō was a fearsome opponent. The mere thought of facing him in battle was enough to send a shiver up your spine.

“I’ll help Panda bring Fushiguro to see Ieiri,” you inform Maki and Kugisaki. Inumaki joins them, standing off to the side of the duo.

Maki waves you off with a knowing glance. You dislike how it feels like she’s peering right into the depths of your heart as if she knows the secrets it holds. You inwardly groan to yourself. She most likely does have an idea and you positively dread the talk you’ll be having once this is all over. You’re unsure if you’ll be able to handle the inevitable teasing that will ensue.

“Do what you like, just don’t be late for our training session tomorrow morning.”

You nod and watch the trio walk off as you readjust your grip on Fushiguro. You remain quiet, lost in your thoughts, all of which center around the male whose weight you’re currently supporting, and listen to Panda happily discuss the Exchange Event that seems to be the topic on everyone’s minds. It’s not long until you find yourself at Ieiri’s door. The room you’ve visited a fair share of times for your own injuries in the past lies empty at the moment. As soon as Fushiguro’s eased into a sitting position, Panda disappears with a hearty goodbye, leaving you and Fushiguro alone as the two of you wait for Ieiri’s arrival.

“Let me get something to clean the blood off,” you mutter when the quiet gets to be too much for you. Fushiguro just grunts in reply as you flounder around the room, searching for the faucet and a clean towel.

You grimace and take the bloodied rag from Fushiguro’s dirtied hand and toss it aside before replacing it with the clean dampened towel you prepared.

“Close your eyes,” you murmur. Fushiguro’s eyes flutter shut in response to your quiet demand. You’re confident that the walls around your heart would have crumbled all too easily if Fushiguro kept his eyes open and trained on you. You swallow down your nerves and ignore the hammering of your heart as you gently swipe the rag over his eyes.

He scrunches his face up and clenches his eyes shut automatically at the cool sensation before relaxing again. The action is much too endearing and you remind yourself that this is no time to be admiring Fushiguro’s profile when he’s injured. Your hands are gentle as you drag the rag over his bloodied face, doing your best to not cause him any more discomfort than he’s already experiencing in his injured state.

“That’s the best I can do right now.” Fushiguro slowly opens his eyes once more as you lift the red-stained towel away from his face. You quickly turn around to place the rag in the sink, unable to face Fushiguro while you’re in such a flustered state. You hadn’t realized how close you were to his face until after you were nearly finished wiping off all the blood and dirt that coated his skin. “I’ll leave the rest for Ieiri to take care of.”

Your heart lurches when Fushiguro reaches out and loosely circles your wrist with his hand. He draws his arm back quickly as if he’s surprised as well with his sudden action when you turn around to face him.

“Thank you.”

The words come out stilted and awkward, and you think you may be more seriously injured than you originally thought because a stark redness paints itself across Fushiguro’s pale cheeks and you are sure that you cleaned all the blood from his face. It takes a moment for you to realize that this isn’t a figment of your imagination or a daydream. That sitting less than a few feet away from you, Fushiguro is blushing. His eyes are averted away from your form, but he does nothing to hide the scarlet hue of his cheeks. Oh. Your heart really cannot take this.

“It’s no problem.” Your voice cracks, and you internally scream because at this rate you’re going to make a bumbling fool out of yourself in front of the boy you like. “I’ll see you later, Fushiguro.” You rush out of the room as quick as you can, hoping that the way your face has warmed up goes unnoticed by him.

You don’t allow yourself to relax until you collapse on a bench far away from Ieiri’s room, all the way on the other side of campus. Your frame sags and your pulse races as the mental image of Fushiguro blushing flashes to the forefront of your mind once more. This is really not good for your heart. At this rate, Fushiguro is going to give you a heart attack whether he means to or not.

“So you and Fushiguro, huh?”

You visibly startle at the teasing tone, scrambling to sit upright and twisting your head to face the owner of the voice. An arched brow and a grin that promises nothing good greets you as you look up at Maki. You swallow in an attempt to dislodge the lump in your throat.

There’s no way you’re getting out of this unscathed.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #fushiguro fluff #celeste.scribs #celeste.adores #adoring.fushiguro

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icerosecrystal · 3 years

Text

An Unexpected Turn Of Events

Mominette Month 2021

Day 01 - Find A Child

Masterlist

Authors note: Hi, everyone! Just one quick to let you all know so that this fic is not confusing for you. This fic is a reverse Robin fic. In other words, Dick is the youngest instead of the eldest, and Damian is the oldest instead of the youngest. This same thing applies to all of the other bat children as well.

Marinette sighed in relief as she finished rifling through her purse. She had woken up late and had hastily left her hotel room for her consultation. She had thankfully not left behind anything that she would need during the consultation. Feeling a bit paranoid, she looked once more through her purse, and there was the tape measure, pencils, notebook, sewing kit, and the NDAs. She may or may not have flipped through the grimoire belonging to the guardians and found the spell for expanding the space in her purse to be the way it was for her yo-yo when she transforms into Ladybug. Unlike her yo-yo, the expansion was still limited. But the extra space was still beneficial.

As Marinette was walking, she pulled out her phone to look at the time. 9:50, she thought, leaves me enough time to get to Wayne Tower by 10:00 if I want to be on time. As she was putting her phone away, she felt something hit her legs and torso. She let out a slight oof at the unexpected weight against her lower body. As she peered down, she saw a cute boy, probably around eight years old clinging onto her legs. He had black hair, and as he looked up at her with teary eyes, she saw the most devastating sparkling blue eyes she had ever seen. His slightly chubby cheeks were flushed pink, and his nose also had a pink tinge to it. The flushness was probably a result of the choked sobs he was currently letting out.

As Marinette looked around, she realized that none of the nearby grown-ups looked to be his parents, nor did they look like they were missing a child. She bent down and smiled softly at him, hoping to calm him down a bit. After a beat or two, her smile seemed to do the trick, and his sobs reduced down to a few tears. Once she knew that he had calmed down, she softly whispered, “ Hey, honey. Are you lost? Do you want me to find your parents?”

He sniffled a few times before replying with a slight tremor in his voice, “Yes. Please help me find my Boose.”

“Your Boose?” Marinette questioned.

“Yes,” he slightly whimpered, “Boose is my new daddy. My other daddy and mommy had to say goodbye to me.”

Marinette gasped in shock at his words. This poor kid, so young, and yet his parents were gone. Dead. Marinette thought about the many akumas which her parents didn’t survive. She then shook herself out of her thoughts. Come on, Marinette. Stop worrying about yourself all time. Your parents are okay now. But this kid is lost! Get out of your head! Steeling herself, she gently asked him, “What’s your name, hon? Mine is Marinette, but you can call me Mari..”

Surprised by the kindness and warmth in her voice, he stuttered out, “Richard… but I like Dick better. Richard sounds old. I’m not old!” He then shyly added, “It’s nice to meet you, miss. You have a pretty name.”

Marinette smiled as she saw his confidence growing with every word he spoke. Marinette laughed aloud at the words he shyly said, “It’s nice to meet you too.” She then questioned, “Do you remember where your daddy is?”

Dick was now bouncing on his heels, and he squealed out in excitement, “Yes! My daddy is in the big, tall building with the huge ‘W’ on it!”

The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. Dick’s excitement was infectious. His words then caught up to her. Well! It looked like luck was on her side after all! She would have enough time to get Dick back to his dad and still be on time for her consultation. She stood back up and then smiled down at him, “Well, I’m heading there too! So why don’t I take you back to your daddy?”

Dick nodded his head rapidly before holding her hand with his much smaller one. They then started walking towards Wayne Tower. Dick continued to babble on about the most random of things. He talked about his grumpy older brother, who it seemed begrudgingly liked him. He also discussed the many pets his older brother had. It also seemed like Dick’s adoptive dad had a slight problem with adopting too many children from what could be told from the many siblings that Dick mentioned.

When the door of Wayne Tower came into sight, Dick stopped talking, allowing them to walk in comfortable silence. As she was about to speak to ask him where in the building his father worked or the name of his dad, Dick blurted out, “I like you, Miss Mari. Can you be my mommy? I don’t have a new one yet!”

Marinette stopped in shock before trying to stutter out something, anything, but all of her words were incoherent. What do you say in response to a question like that, she thought to herself? She saw Dick looking at her for an answer, and after a while, he decided to pull out some puppy eyes. Shoot! Marinette thought. I need to say something to stall for time. At least until I get him to his dad. She reassured him, “I am thinking about my answer, Dickie! But how about we first get back to your daddy, and then we talk about it?”

Dick contemplated her words before nodding in agreement and practically bouncing through the doors. Marinette sighed in relief and also walked through the doors. Her head was down as she speculated what she should do about Dick’s question. Suddenly, a rough voice spoke up in front of her, “Hello. Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I presume.”

Marinette lifted her head, and there in front of her was Bruce Wayne, her newest client. And clinging to him was the very boy that was holding her hand just seconds ago. She suddenly remembered hearing something about Bruce Wayne adopting the son of some acrobats who were in an accident. The name of the kid was Richard Grayson! She hadn’t made the connection!

Realizing that Bruce was looking for an answer, she hastily stuck out her hand, stuttering, “That is correct, Monsieur Wayne. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He stared at her hand before gently taking it and raising the back of her hand to his lips. “Please, the pleasure is all mine. Let’s make our way upstairs.”

She blushed at his gentlemanly actions before squeaking out a small, “Let’s.” The three of them climbed into the elevator and went to the top floor of the building. The doors of the elevator opened up, and Bruce gestured for her to go first. She did so and looked around at the beautiful interior of the building that she had not yet noticed. Bruce then opened up the door to what seemed to be his office. Inside she saw there to be seven kids. She smiled at them in greeting. Most of them smiled back at her. The exception to this was what looked to be the oldest and one of the younger ones. (Damian and Jason, if you didn’t figure it out.)

Marinette felt Bruce step closer so that he was next to her before he spoke once more, “These are all of my children, biological, adopted, or otherwise.” He pointed to the man with stunning green eyes stating, “This is my oldest son, Damian. He’s 22.” Damian gave a tight-lipped smile in response, along with a slight tilt of his head.

Next, Bruce gestured to what looked to be the second oldest saying, “This is Tim. He’s 18 years old.” He was sipping coffee and giving the briefest of nods to her. He looked seconds away from collapsing.

He then acknowledged a blonde girl, remarking, “This is Stephanie, but she likes to be called Steph. She’s 17 years old.” The girl seemed to be bouncing in place and close to bursting from excitement.

He pointed to a rough-looking boy stating, “This here is Jason. He just turned 15. He’s a few months older than the next youngest.” The boy smirked at Marinette in acknowledgment of his introduction.

Bruce finally gestured to a girl with Asian features saying, “This is Cassandra or Cass. She’s 14, but like I said, a few months younger than Jason.” The girl seemed to be peering through her very soul. After gazing for a few seconds, she hummed in what Marinette deemed to be satisfied as if she liked what she saw.

Bruce then turned towards her, “And you’ve already met Richard or Dick. Thank you for bringing him back.”

Marinette smiled in acknowledgment of his compliment before replying, “It was nothing Monsieur Wayne. He was all alone, so I had to help him. But he was delightful the whole time. Now as for what I came here for, what type of clothes have you been looking for–”.

But before she could continue, Dick blurted out, “Daddy, I like Ms. Mari! Can we keep her? I want her to be my mommy!”

The result was instant. The room burst into a flurry of noises, each of Bruce’s kids trying to speak over one another. Marinette was blushing very brightly. In fact, from how hot her face felt, she was sure that she was inventing new shades of red. Marinette looked over to see Bruce’s reaction and squeaked when she saw him staring at her with a sharp, analytical gaze.

Marinette took a few breathes to calm herself down. She then softened both her gaze and voice as she addressed Dick, “Dickie, honey, as much as I loved meeting you and talking with you, I, unfortunately, cannot be your mommy. Bruce is your daddy, and he will someday find a lovely lady who will be your mommy.”

At her last sentence, all or most of the kids seemed to have snorted in amusement. It seemed as if they disagreed with her statement. Dick looked sad and seemed to be growing teary-eyed. Marinette looked over to Bruce for some help but only found him concealing the amusement that he was most likely feeling quite well. If she hadn’t been Ladybug, she probably would have never noticed the slight bit of emotion peaking through his mask. She glared at him reproachfully as if saying, this is your kid, so you need to help me convince him that I would not make a good mother.

He rolled his eyes in return as if trying to say, Don’t kid yourself. You would make an excellent mother. And you’re already attached to him, don’t deny it.

As Marinette sighed in response, Bruce turned away from her towards Dick and knelt to his level. He then gently said, “Now Dick. Miss Mari can’t be your mommy.” Marinette started nodding as if agreeing with Bruce’s words. But then stopped when he continued, “But she can visit you and maybe one day be your mommy.”

Marinette opened and closed her mouth, no words coming out. Before shyly looking down before raising her head, stammering, “Well, I guess I could visit.”

All the kids started cheering in response. The exception to this was Damian. But the corner of his lips was slightly raised as if the start of a smile. Dick bounded over to her, hugging her and babbling out everything he wanted to do with her. And in all the chaos, Marinette’s and Bruce’s eyes met. They both exchanged small smiles.

Marinette then clapped her hands together, reminding them, “I do still have to do a consultation with all of you. So how about we do that, and then we can do something fun together?” Seeing everyone’s nods, Marinette then continued with the consultation. But unbeknownst to anyone in the room, their relationship would change drastically in the coming months. But ultimately, it would change for the better.

One Year Later

It has been a year since the faithful day when Dick requested Marinette to be his mom. And since then, they only seemed to grow closer. She had met Alfred, Bruce’s Psuedo father and the children’s pseudo grandfather. She thought that he was extraordinary. And honestly godsent. She also experienced a lot of adventures with the Waynes. In fact, after only four months of knowing each other, she figured out that they were the Bat-Family. She had caught them once after patrol and raised her eyebrow as if demanding an answer, and god did she get an answer from them!

Marinette and Bruce had also started dating. This change in their relationship occurred a few weeks after she found out their identities. They were now engaged to be married in a few months. All the children had warmed up to Marinette over the months, even Damian, who always withheld his emotions. But they had all come to see her as their mother figure and were ever so grateful for her. And so they wanted to do something for her birthday.

The very morning of her birthday, everything went wrong. Marinette woke up to quite the sight. All over the kitchen was what looked to be cake batter. It seemed as if they were trying to put the baking she had taught them to good use, but they had also made the cake batter explode. Marinette and Bruce stared at the mess before they both started laughing. Marinette had a light, melodic laugh, while Bruce had a very gruff laugh.

Marinette beckoned all of them forward for a hug before proclaiming, “I love that you all were trying to do something for me, but none of you had to do anything. But it’s the thought that counts, so thank you. But next time, please stay away from the kitchen.”

She then shooed them on their way before getting two mops, handing one to Bruce as she passed by him. She kissed him on the cheek before starting to clean up the mess, Bruce following her actions. She then quietly snickered, “Well, this was quite a sight to wake up to on your birthday. I would have thought that today would have been relaxing.”

She looked up to see Bruce shoot her a small look before shaking his head in amusement. “Mari, darling, when has our lives with them ever been relaxing? They are always getting into trouble.”

She snorted in response, “Yes, well, they get it from their father.”

Bruce glared at her lightly before pulling her into a deep kiss, “I don’t know. Their mother seems to be just as chaotic sometimes.”

She shook her head in amusement, pulling herself away from Bruce’s embrace and questioning, “How is this even my life anymore?”

He chuckled lightly, alerting her that he was about to sass her in some way. “Well, from what I remember, about a year ago, you came across this kid that–”

Marinette held up a finger to his mouth, stopping him from uttering another word. She was also glaring at him reproachfully. “Yes, I do know-how. I was there. Now go away so that I can clean up the rest of the kitchen. You’re distracting me.”

He let go of his mop before giving her another deep kiss and then darting away. As he strolled out of the room, he shouted over his shoulder, “Oh, I know how distracting I am. I am well aware of how irresistible I am, ma coccinelle.” He could hear her spluttering in response before yelling back at him, but he continued on his way to his office. Along the way, he chuckled to himself.

Back in the kitchen, Marinette was glaring at nothing. She was also plotting ways to show her fiance who the irresistible one was. She then sighed in happiness. Yes, her life was amazing. A year ago, if someone told her this would be her life, she wouldn’t have believed it. But now she was living it, and god was it amazing. Funny what finding a child will do to you, Marinette thought to herself before carrying on with her task of cleaning up the mess her kids had made. Yeah, life was amazing.

2,683 words

I actually got it done!

~ ❄ Crystal ❄

@mominettemonth

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#maribat #brucinette #mominette #mominette month #mominette august #mominette month 2021 #mominette-month-2021 #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #cassandra cain #tim drake #jason todd #stephanie brown #alfred pennyworth #fluff #i finally updated #miracles do happen

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 14

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

Going to Florida on vacation also seemed to be the perfect time to find out where the other boys came from and their pasts.

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter warning(s): The boys share their pasts, which can be rough. Mentions of suicide, past abuse, PTSD. There’s also quite some drinking in this chapter.

“He’s fine. Just a little bit too much sun.” You chuckled in a whisper, tucking Jin under the blanket. With that, you exited the room with the 6 others. The oldest had felt a little faint after playing in the sun, which led to his current state.

“We should-”

RINGGGGGGG

“Ugh, one minute.” Jimin took his phone out of his pocket, walking away to answer his call. You and Jungkook looked at each other, shrugging. You headed to the living room, with you draping your legs over Hoseok to watch television, not that Hoseok minded.

“Jin hyung is asleep... That means his snacks are unguarded!” Jungkook shot up from the couch, running to the pantry.

“Nothing stand between him and food.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow. Namjoon shook his head and chuckled, bidding all of you goodbye before leaving with a book tucked under his arm.

“What’s for dinner?” Yoongi asked.

“I think steak and pasta.” Jungkook said, mouth stuffed to the brim with cookies. The staff that worked here had the same schedule as those back in Korea.

“What shall we do tonight?”

“I don’t know. We should stay in on our first night. To just... chill.” Hoseok shrugged and everyone nodded in agreement.

“Even when we put a vacation notice out, work doesn’t seem to stop coming.” Jimin stormed in, complaining. Taehyung raised an eyebrow at his best friend, shifting to let him sit on the couch.

“That’s what you get for opening a new place 2 weeks before the vacation. And a big place, with a lot of manpower needed.” Jungkook scoffed. Jimin sighed, full of regret. He had opened a new male host lounge for ladies 2 weeks ago and safe to say, the business was booming. His phone was ringing non-stop from wanting business partners.

“I’ll just leave it to the others to handle.” Jimin said.

“Yeah, put the phone away. You’re here to relax.” You put your hands behind your head.

“I’m guessing you did the same?” Yoongi faced you.

“My family knows I’m on vacation. There’s an emergency number if they really need to reach me, which I doubt they will. It’s my last vacation before I have to hear my mother start nagging me again.” You rolled your eyes.

“Nag you?” Taehyung tilted his head.

“My brother’s, her star child, is coming into town with my very pregnant sister-in-law for the birth of her second grandchild.” You explained and the boys all nodded, understanding. At the ball where they met your parents, there was a brief mention of your older brother.

“I was an only child. Never had siblings. Omma was worried that if she had another, he or she would come out sick like me.” Jimin forced a smile.

“I’m sorry, Chim.” You reached over to hold his hand.

“It’s okay. Fortunately, Yoongi hyung was there to break me out of the hospital.” He turned to the older, who was sitting on the adjacent couch, sipping from his red wine glass.

“You broke him out of a hospital?” Your eyes widened. Yoongi let out a long sigh, placing his glass on the table.

“Since she couldn’t figure out the reason why Jimin was always sick, Mrs Park thought the only way to provide Jimin the care he needed was to lock him in a hospital.” He explained. Jimin cleared his throat.

“I first met Yoongi hyung at a martial arts convention. Since I used to train in kendo, omma let me go but I couldn’t participate in the demonstration. When he found out that omma checked me into the hospital, he got me out and brought me to join the family. Even when I was sick, Yoongi hyung and Namjoon hyung took care of me.” Jimin gave a small smile.

“I mean, since we’re telling our family stories, my mother abandoned me when I was younger, at an amusement park. I joined an orphanage after.” Hoseok said.

“Yoongi hyung’s father adopted me to be hyung’s playmate but that was it. We could only see each other during playtime. Other than that, I stayed in the small hut in the backyard.” Hoseok continued.

“It was practically a tool shed with a mattress.” Yoongi said bitterly.

“Yoongi, so your father...”

“He was rich, powerful, as was Namjoon’s father. We had been friends for a long time since our fathers were friends. After our fathers died, we dissolved their associations and formed our own.” Yoongi explained.

“I see... I didn’t know both your fathers were also... in the same line of business.” You tried to speak.

“With the way my father treated Hoseok and my mother, we don’t bring him up. Same with Namjoon.” Yoongi said but there was a warning tone in his voice.

“I-Is it, my turn?” Jungkook lifted his head.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You comforted. Jungkook took a deep breath, shaking his head. If anything, he trusted you and wanted you to know his background.

“I was quite a small kid, so I was generally quite quiet in school. I had one older brother. Mum and dad worked a lot so it was mostly my brother and me. At first, hyung was the best brother I could ever ask for. He took care of me, protected me, everything.” Jungkook gulped.

“Then one day, he started treating me like I was invisible, at school and at home. That progressed to him hitting me and bullying me, hurting me.” He said sadly.

“Jungkook...” Jimin said sadly.

“Namjoon hyung was passing by an alley when my brother almost beat me to death. He brought me to the hospital to get treated. Since then, I’ve been living with him.” Jungkook finished.

“Did your parents come find you?” You asked.

“They never believed me when I told them hyung hurt me. He must have told them I ran away or something since he thinks he left me for dead.”

“But you’re stronger now.” Taehyung patted Jungkook’s head. Considering Taehyung didn’t start his background story, the others assumed that he already told you about him.

“Dinner is served.” The butler informed, breaking the thick tension in the air from all the heavy conversations.

“I’ll get the others.” You said, going to head upstairs. The first person you checked on was Jin, he was still fast asleep, which you let him be. Namjoon was standing in the hallways, outside of Jin’s bedroom.

“I heard what the boys told you.” He said. You nodded your head in acknowledgement.

“(y/n), I think you know that with such backgrounds, it’s not all black and white for them. On top of always falling ill, Jimin lived with a fear of being a burden, like how his own mother treated him. Yoongi hyung lives with the guilt of how his father treated Hoseok. He feels the need to make it up to him with his life.” Namjoon started.

“Hoseok is afraid of abandonment. Taehyung dealt with meltdowns, panic attacks, so much trauma. You’ve seen it, he’s still not over what happened to him.”

“And Jungkook, I can’t tell you the number of times I had to stop him from taking his own life. He was afraid of being hurt by the one he loved, just like before.” Namjoon sighed.

“I know, Namjoon. It must have been a lot for you and Yoongi to face, along with your own fears. But look at who you saved. Where would they all be now if you and Yoongi didn’t help them?” You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Everyone comes with their own battle scars. But that’s what makes us human and survivors, right?” You smiled.

“You always know what to say, doc.” Namjoon chuckled.

“Of course. I’m the best, am I not?” You nudged him, making him laugh even more. With that, the two of you headed downstairs to the dining room, where the others were seated around the table. Namjoon sat at the head of the table while you sat between Jungkook and Yoongi.

“Let’s eat.” Namjoon waved for the wait staff to bring in the trays of food and pour the drinks. Even if the dinner was quieter than usual, it wasn’t suffocating. You’ve reached a new level of understanding with the boys.

“What shall we do tomorrow?” Jimin asked.

“I wanna go look around the city. If possible. Maybe buy some things for myself.” You shrugged.

“Yes! Shopping! We’ll come too!” Taehyung and Jungkook cheered. You smiled, somehow knowing that it was going to be chaotic with the boys. Hoseok clapped his hands in excitement.

“What if I wanna go on my own?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No way! It’s not safe for you to be on your own.” Jungkook shook his head, putting his arms in a cross.

“Are you saying I am not capable to defending myself?” You asked him with a smirk.

“Ooh, you’ve done it now, Kook.”

“Yeah, even I don’t go there.” Yoongi decided to join in on the fun of teasing the maknae. Jungkook’s eyes widened when he realised what he did, immediately facing you and rubbing his hands together in an apologetic matter.

“I’m sorry! You are very much capable of defending yourself! Even better than me or anyone else because you’re a strong, independent woman! I would never doubt your strength! Please don’t kill me!” He rambled on. You threw your head back in laughter, reaching over to pat his head. Even the others just looked on in amusement.

“Alright, let’s stop teasing, Koo.” You said.

After dinner, everyone was gathered back in the living room, watching some show that was playing on the television.

“The night is young! We should party!” Hoseok declared.

"This is not going to end well.” Yoongi clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. It was obvious he had to deal with his drunk brothers multiple times before.

“I brought drinks and snacks!” Jungkook brought two big trays out, one with different alcoholic drinks and the other filled with snacks, courtesy of Jin’s stash. You took a bottle of beer. Hoseok and Namjoon did the same, clinking bottles with you. Jungkook grabbed some soju.

“Hyung? You want one?” Jungkook offered a filled shot glass to Taehyung. Taehyung, who doesn’t usually drink, shrugged and accepted it. Yoongi stuck to his whiskey like always.

“Honestly didn’t think the drinking was gonna start on our first night here. But I’m not one to complain.” You shrugged.

“We’re on vacation. It’s always drinking time.” Hoseok said.

“I agree!” Jungkook grinned. You snorted in response. Jimin decided to have soju with the other two, taking an empty shot glass. Jungkook happily filled it up for him.

“Hey...” Jin stood at the stairwell.

“Hey, Jin. How are you feeling?” You asked as you stood up to head to him. Jin gave a small smile and a thumbs up.

“Are those my snacks?!” His eyes widened as he marched over.

“Shot?” Jungkook offered as a consolation. Jin glared at the maknae but took the tiny glass, glancing over at you. You shrugged, nodding your head in approval. Hoseok and Taehyung shifted to give Jin space to sit down. Everyone with their drinks, cheered to your first night on vacation, taking a swig. You leaned against Jimin’s side.

“Do you want dinner, Jin?”

“Nah, I’m fine with the snacks and drinks.” He waved you off.

“Alright but if you feel dizzy again, stop and rest. And tomorrow, please remember to hydrate yourself when out.” You lectured. The boys all groaned, even if you were only directing your words at Jin.

“Now you’re nagging.” Taehyung boxed his ears, whining. You rolled your eyes, reaching to smack him.

That night, when all the boys retreated to their rooms, passed out drunk, you were in your room spending some alone time. There was a knock on your door and you stood up from your bed, shuffling over to see who it was.

“Hobi?” You were shocked.

“C-Can I come in?” He rubbed the back of his neck. You nodded your head, stepping aside for him to enter.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked softly.

“Just a lot on my mind.” He admitted with a soft sigh. You sat on your bed, legs dangling off the side. You patted the space beside you and Hoseok gladly accepted, sitting beside you as the moon shined in.

“Bringing up the past isn’t easy. It opens a lot of scars you thought were healed, memories that you thought was locked away, feelings that you thoughts were gone. It’s okay, Hobi.” You whispered with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around him. Hoseok placed his head on your shoulder.

“It’s okay.” You comforted.

“She left me there, all alone. For strangers to take me. And I probably will never know the reason why until the day I die.” He said aimlessly.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Hobi.” You squeezed his hand.

“Yoongi hyung still feels so guilty for what his father did when he adopted me. But I always think that even if he did treat me badly, I still got to leave the orphanage and meet Yoongi hyung.”

“And then you met the rest of the boys. Look how inseparable you all are now.” You stroked his head.

“I also got to meet you.” Hoseok added.

“I’m just there to clean your cuts and take care of you when you’re sick.” You laughed.

“That’s not true. You mean a lot to me and everyone else, more than you’d think, (y/n).” Now, it was Hoseok holding your hands, looking into your eyes, his full of honesty and sincerity.

You woke up the next morning, rubbing your temples, feeling the slight effect of the alcohol from the night before. Hoseok was still passed out beside you, sleeping soundly. You got out of bed quietly, washing up before heading downstairs. The house was quiet, signalling that maybe no one else was awake, still sleeping the alcohol off.

“You’re up?” You nearly jumped when Yoongi appeared, drinking a cup of iced coffee, his hair slightly damp and messy from his shower.

“Yeah. I need a hangover cure and a coffee.” You went to the kitchen. The maid brought you a cup of water and the small bottle of hangover cure. You downed the bitter liquid following that with water.

“Here.” Yoongi fixed you an iced coffee of your own.

“Thank you.” You sipped it.

“Hoseok... he’s with you?” Yoongi cleared his throat as he asked. You nodded your head with a hum.

“Yeah. He came over to talk then we just fell asleep after.” You explained. Yoongi gave a nod, moving to sit out on the deck. You trailed behind him quietly, taking the seat across him. All you heard were the crashing of the waves and the strong wind rustling the trees.

“I’m part of the reason he’s like that.” Yoongi spoke.

“Why do you burden yourself with that?” You asked back. Yoongi blinked, seemingly surprised by your words.

“You know it’s not true, you know that Hobi doesn’t think that, and yet you force yourself to live with the guilt. You know that you’re not like your father, whatever he did to Hobi was out of your control.” You said.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yoongi said with gritted teeth.

“Exactly, I don’t. But what I see is you feeling sorry for yourself and Hobi being worried about showing his emotions because he doesn’t want you to start feeling guilty again.”

“He said that?”

“Not exactly. It’s pretty obvious to a bystander.” You shrugged.

“Yoongi, I have better things to do than to stand here and taunt you. The only people there were you and Hobi. Will anyone ever understand what each of you went through? I don’t know. You and I both know that Hobi holds whatever happened close to him. But he sees the light, even in a dark situation. If he can do that, I don’t see why you can’t.” You said.

“I know.” Was all he could reply.

“I’m going to check on Jin, okay?” You stood up. But you were yanked back by your wrist. Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your middle.

“I hate that you’re right.” He mumbled. You let out a soft hum, patting the top of his fluffy hair. When Yoongi released you, you looked down at him.

“You saved so many of them, Yoongs. Give yourself more credit. They all look up to you for a reason.” You laughed.

“Go check on Jin hyung.” He said, patting your hip.

“Right on it, sir.” You saluted. That made Yoongi break out into a small smile as he watched you leave. You hummed a random tune as you headed upstairs to see how Jin was doing today.

“Doc? You’re here.” He slowly opened his eyes, squinting to focus his vision on you. He gave you a sleepy smile. You smiled softly as you nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you placed your hand on his forehead. He wasn’t warm to the touch.

“How are you feeling?” You whispered.

“Okay. Sleepy... Hungover.” He chuckled, a little embarrassed.

“I’d bet. You can come down later to get some hangover cure. Luckily I told the butler to stock the house when we arrived yesterday.” You patted his shoulder, making him laugh.

“(y/n)!” When you exited Jin’s room, you saw a shirtless Jungkook barreling down the hallway, headed straight for you. You jumped back but he caught you.

“Good morning, Koo.” You said in amusement as he hugged you. He mumbled something in his sleepy stupor.

“What are you saying? I can’t understand you.”

“I went to your room to look for you but you weren’t there. I thought Hobi hyung was you but it wasn’t. Why is Hobi hyung in your bed? Where were you? Ugh... I have a headache and I’m hungry.” He rambled.

“Alright, alright. Slow down. I went to get some coffee to help my hangover and was with Yoongi on the deck. Then I went to check on Jin. Hobi just stayed the night after we talked. I have alka seltzer to help your hangover and I think the chefs are cooking hangover soup for all of us. Would you also please put on a shirt?” You answered all his questions, ending with one of yours.

“I’m sleepy.”

“I thought you were hungry?”

“I don’t know! My head hurts.” He whined. You sighed, patting his back as you led him back to his room.

“You stay here. I’ll bring you a hangover cure then you can see how you feel after that.” You instructed. He nodded his head like an obedient child. You went downstairs to get a small bottle and a glass of water.

“Thank you.” He received the two, drinking one after another, cringing slightly at the bitterness.

“It should help your headache and funny stomach. I’ll go check on the others to see if they need help.” You told him, tucking him back into bed under the blanket.

“Will you come back?” He held your hand.

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

I kinda find it funny how, if Ed didn't break up with Bella and then chase after Victoria in NM, we might not have gotten the events of Eclipse. Girl was just vibing with her makeshift "guards," and he had to mess it all up by having her see how newborn armies work and inspire her. Do you think Vic would've still would've gone after Bella if not for NM's events (and how it'd go down)? Cause low key I think it's funnier if she wasn't a danger but Ed made her into one jfksaldjf.-Sw

I think she would have.

True, Victoria comes up with the newborn army scheme after Edward chases her down to Mexico, but she also doesn't use it right away. She tests the waters in Forks for a very long time before she decides to invade.

In other words I, sigh, agree with Edward on this: Victoria was coming back to murder Bella Swan in vengeance no matter what was happening.

Without the newborn army, however, things would have played out very differently.

A Bit on the Romantic Tragedy Penned by Edward Cullen

First, a note, Edward had always intended to leave Bella. From the moment he realized he was in love with her he told himself that he would one day leave her. It was just a matter of when.

In Twilight, he's torn. He knows he shouldn't be a part of her life, that bringing her into his world almost necessitates her becoming a vampire, but he also really doesn't want to let her go. He doesn't think he's strong enough to do it.

And as Bella keeps getting herself into danger he gives himself more and more excuses.

If he's not there, then Bella will get crushed by a van or raped in an alley or eaten by bears. Her number's up, and Edward is single handedly fighting fate to keep this angel alive.

Bella needs Edward, therefore he can't possibly go.

The birthday party put things back into perspective. Edward's family is the most dangerous threat to Bella there is, Edward himself really may lose control one day and devour her, and unless she turns (which Edward absolutely does not want) then she has no future with him.

The family has to leave now.

However, if there's no birthday party, then Edward doesn't have that catalyst and reminder. He likely decides to himself that he will leave Bella after graduation, his family will move towns, Bella will attend whichever university she attends, and he will have had a few wonderful years with Bella pretending he's a regular high school boy dating a regular high school girl.

When Bella then dies a natural human death sometime later, Edward will go to Volterra and kill himself (and force the Volturi's hand when Aro refuses to do it).

Of course, he'd probably break here too, but that's a different story.

I do think without Jasper's slip up and the birthday party, that Edward would have stuck around for New Moon.

The World Without Bella's Birthday Party

Bella throws the fit she didn't in canon.

She doesn't want this birthday party, she never asked for this birthday party, AND WHY DOES BELLA ALWAYS HAVE TO HUMOR ALICE?!

Bella has had a summer filled with Alice. In canon, this was a delight, in this world Bella realizes that maybe they spend most of their time doing what Alice wants to do rather than what Bella wants to do.

Alice is clearly throwing this party for Alice's sake, everyone knows it, and Edward tells her, "Please humor my sister and be a good sport."

Isn't this party supposed to be about Bella?

Alice is terribly upset and does not handle any of this well, Edward tells Bella to be reasonable and be the better person and give Alice this party, Rosalie thinks this is all petty bullshit but has mild respect for Bella on calling Alice out on this, and Carlisle is rubbing his temples somewhere trying to let the children deal with this themselves.

In the end, they compromise, Bella's birthday is Edward taking her out to dinner at an expensive restaurant in Seattle of Alice's choice, Bella wearing a fancy Chanel dress that Alice selected for her.

Bella's still embarrassed and miserable, but at least there aren't a billion pink candles.

As a result, there's no birthday party, no papercut, and no dumping.

The next several months instead are spent with Bella and Alice in a battle of wills and a real rough spot in their friendship. Bella tries to explain to Edward that Alice treats her like a doll, not a person.

Edward, of course, has no idea what she's talking about.

Bella fails to realize that Edward also treats her like a doll and not a person.

Laurent's Scouting Mission

As in canon, Laurent is probably sent by Victoria to scout. Victoria probably never left the area which means (remember this is book universe where Riley was in California) that she never turned Riley.

Without being all over the Forks area killing hikers, probably fewer wolves are turned. Yes, the Cullens are in the area, but they've been there three years, are very non-threatening, and in that time only Sam shifted.

We don't see the deluge of shifting until after the Cullens have left and Victoria starts actively attacking the area.

(Yes, this is worthy of a meta but that meta is not this meta)

Regardless, Laurent shows up, Sam's not sure if he's one of those friends of the Cullens or not, and Laurent walks in to see that all the Cullens are there.

Just like he expected.

Because Victoria has sent him to die.

Carlisle feels a headache coming on but is not shocked to see that Laurent's eyes are red again after only a few months. (Though this explains the sobbing phone call that Carlisle got from Irina asking if he'd seen Laurent because that beautiful, perfect, man has gone missing!)

Laurent provides some weasley bullshit explanation anyway. He asks, though it's really more of a demand, that he join the Cullen coven (much larger than the Denali, very gifted, and very powerful). Carlisle says no, Laurent has to stick to the diet if he joins the coven and he has to mean it. Given Laurent's current appearance, it seems as if Laurent is not willing to do that.

Laurent then begs them to let him stay: Victoria will murder him otherwise (and oh by the way she's after your Lunchable Bella Swan). That gets Edward into action, he demands Laurent's death and that he then hunt down Victoria personally.

Carlisle politely suggests that Laurent, rather than seek shelter from them who he knows Victoria intends to cross paths with, go back to the Denali and give the diet another whirl.

Laurent flees back to the Denali, Irina is ecstatic to see him. Victoria's not even surprised.

The family discusses what to do about Victoria. Carlisle would rather not hunt this woman down on hearsay alone. Jasper thinks they should have killed her to start and letting her escape was foolishness, he told them she'd be back. Edward for once is with Jasper, Victoria must be destroyed before she can harm Bella. They look to Alice and, yeah, there's a good possibility that Victoria will be back.

Edward is torn between hunting down Victoria and protecting Bella in person. Jasper leaves before he can make the decision, which of course angers Edward beyond belief, but, well, he guesses it is what it is.

Edward decides to not tell Bella that a vampire is after her life: it'll just worry her.

Jasper's Hunting Mission

Jasper likely has a devil of a time catching Victoria, as he did the first time, because of her gift. He ends up having very long phone calls with Alice as he tries to coordinate a successful solution to this.

Because Edward never left Bella, she never sought out Jake. She never forms her friendship with Jake nor realizes the secret behind the shapeshifters.

Billy tries to give Bella a few more ominous warnings but there's no getting through to this girl.

Edward never proposes to Bella because he's intent on leaving her after graduation. He does not tell Bella this though she constantly worries about it.

He assures her they can have a long distance relationship at college (he has no such intentions).

Victoria is kept out of the Forks area by Jasper and likely takes the one obvious route left to her. She has nothing left to live for, and it doesn't matter how much terror she lives in the Volturi, if this means her death then so be it.

She goes to the Volturi and narks on the Cullens.

Victoria Narks

It... does not go as planned.

Aro placates Caius with many excuses: this girl is in her primary schooling, is the only daughter of a police chief, she cannot simply disappear.

Carlisle is likely waiting until after she graduates and can disappear across the country.

And yes, technically this James fellow had bit Bella and they had their perfect chance but... Well, Aro will talk to Carlisle, it is not breaking the law yet.

Aro travels to Forks in person with Renata, shows up on Carlisle's doorstep, and says, "We need to talk."

Aro lays down the law, this girl better be turned after graduation, and Aro can only stall Caius so long. Also, great to see you, you built yourself a coven and that's perfectly marvelous.

Edward, of course, throws a fit but the law is the law and the law just visited them for tea. Aro makes it very clear that either Bella is turned, she dies, or Aro will have no choice to take adverse action against Edward at the very least (if not Carlisle and the rest of the Cullens).

Aro also points out this is an unsustainable relationship that's not good for anybody. Yes, it's too bad the girl has no choice, but they really should have thought of that before Edward walked around strongly hinting he wasn't human.

Edward insists they vote.

The vote doesn't go the way he likes.

Esme doesn't want Edward to live in misery after Bella dies, Rosalie doesn't like the idea of turning Bella but it appears they have no choice, Jasper (via conference call) doesn't want to be the one to eat Bella and it's stupid given the VOLTURI IS IN THE ROOM FOR THIS VOTE, and Carlisle notes that it appears Bella has no other option and at least this seems to be what she wants?

They will turn Bella after graduation.

Edward smashes a TV.

They tell Edward to tell Bella, it should come from him, Edward never does.

Instead, out of nowhere, he asks her to marry him and elope. They can live on a deserted island somewhere.

Bella thinks this is stupid and says no.

Edward dies inside.

Victoria Chooses Death

Victoria is out of options, the Volturi did not come through, and she wanders out of Volterra in a daze.

She guns it for Forks with Jasper hot on her tail. If there's one thing left for her, she will murder this Bella Swan before she dies. She fails, Jasper catches up to her in Forks and murders her.

No one tells Bella.

Graduation

After graduation, Carlisle picks Bella up. Bella has no idea what's happening, Carlisle assumes she does. Carlisle lays down the game plan, she's going to take a summer abroad before school starts, travelling with Alice, then both she and Alice will disappear in an accident.

Bella asks him to hold up, what the hell is he talking about?

Carlisle realizes with dull horror that Edward never told Bella. He awkwardly explains that the Volturi personally came to visit and, well, they have to turn Bella into a vampire.

He's very sorry.

Bella's very on board with this, she asks if it can be Edward that does it.

Carlisle says no, that's not a good idea.

They stare at each other.

Carlisle cannot believe Edward didn't tell her.

Edward and Bella do not get married nor does she have sex with him as a human.

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theraspberryler · 3 years

Text

IRL Benchtrio Tickle Fic (creative, I know)

Welp, here you go! This is my first ever fic, and I’m actually kinda happy with how it turned out.

Summary: Ranboo’s staying with Tubbo in the UK, and Tommy goes over to visit them. However, Ranboo ends up finding himself in a,, mood, of sorts. He overthinks the situation too much and ends up freaking out, but luckily, he’s got two awesome friends who are there for him! (hurt/comfort)

~This is a tickle fic! If that’s not your thing, then move on please~

TW - Panic attack, self deprecating thoughts, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ranboo had been in the UK with Tubbo for a couple days now, and the two of them have been having a blast, the pure joy and excitement of finally getting to see each other in person had given them the energy to keep going constantly over the past two days, with them doing multiple streams and other activities. They had decided to meet up with Tommy that day, planning to record a vlog for Tommy’s vlog channel, but the past nights of practically no rest had caught up to the two, and when Tommy arrived at Tubbo’s house and saw how exhausted they appeared, he insisted they take the day to rest. They could record the vlog later, it wasn’t a big deal.

Of course, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately protested, but once Tommy made up his mind he was a force to be reckoned with. Eventually they settled to spend the day relaxing at Tubbo’s house, no cameras, and Ranboo had to admit, it was pretty nice. The three of them hadn’t had the chance to just talk without the stress of cameras being in their faces for quite a while, and they all needed the chance to just mess around and act like kids. No need to worry about carefully choosing their words to avoid any discourse.

Tommy was currently sitting in the chair at Tubbo’s desk, aimlessly spinning in circles as he recalled the events of the previous day, waving his hands around with an animated expression. Tubbo and Ranboo were seated on opposite ends of Tubbo’s bed, Tubbo laughing at Tommy’s over dramatic retelling of,,, something. Despite his best efforts, Ranboo couldn’t seem to pay attention to Tommy’s words. He told himself that he didn’t know what was causing his fidgety mood, but he knew he was lying to himself.

Earlier that day when Tommy first arrived, he shoved the door open with his usual flair, and loudly announced his arrival. Obviously excited to see him, Tubbo and Ranboo rushed over to greet him. Ranboo had instantly gathered Tommy up into a hug and held him close. And despite the show Tommy put up of not liking Ranboo, he latched onto the other as well, though of course not without poking fun at the other for being so eager to greet him, and a few playfully exchanged insults. That had been great, the thought brought a smile to his face. The part that had Ranboo squirming in his seat right now, was the way Tommy scribbled his nails into his sides after not being able to come up with a witty comeback to one of Ranboo’s playful jabs. It was brief, and after laughing at the squawk Ranboo let out good-naturedly, he dropped it. But, it was more than enough to send Ranboo’s brain spiralling into a lee mood, which only intensified as the playful atmosphere in the room continued.

Ranboo had told Tubbo before about this,,, liking of his before, and he had responded with only positivity, and he knew deep down that Tommy wouldn’t judge him either, but he still tried to forcefully shove the mood down, still telling himself that it was weird, and that Tommy and Tubbo would surely mock him if he admitted to them how he was feeling.

The only problem was, while Ranboo was lost in thought, the other two had noticed how unusually quiet he had been, and Tommy paused his storytelling, asking if he was alright. At the attention being turned to him, Ranboo froze up, and his nerves kicked in, but he still tried to play it off.

“I-I uhm, y-yeah, I’m fine.” Ranboo cursed himself for his lousy attempt to reassure them, and the other two clearly didn’t buy it.

“You sure, ‘Boo? If we’re doing something to make you uncomfortable, you can tell us.” Curse Tubbo for being so damn sweet, and those big, worried eyes that were carefully observing him. Ranboo fidgeted in place, refusing to make eye contact with either in the room. He was silent, getting increasingly frustrated with himself. Why couldn’t he come up with a response? Why did he have to be so bad at social interaction? This is so stupid for me to get worked up about, just say something!

As Ranboo remained silent, Tommy and Tubbo’s concern for him only grew, and Tommy pushed himself up from the chair he was sitting in. making his way over to sit on the bed next to him. Seeing how uncomfortable Ranboo seemed, they didn’t push him to talk anymore, and both shuffled around to sit on either side of him. Ranboo risked a glance to his side, and, catching his gaze, Tommy offered him a kind smile, slowly reaching out to softly grasp his hand. And, oh shit, Ranboo could feel that familiar burning behind his eyes, and he quickly pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face into them. God, why were they always so sweet to him? He was getting so worked up and upset over a stupid mood, and couldn’t even manage to say anything to them! In his frustration with himself, the tears in his eyes began to overflow, and his breath hitched.

Tubbo pressed up closer to him, bringing his arms up to wrap around Ranboo, before he paused.

“Hey, ‘Boo, it's alright. Can I touch you?” Ranboo managed a nod at that, and Tubbo wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. It was a little awkward with Ranboo being so much taller than him, but the embrace still served its purpose and Ranboo melted into his touch. Tommy brought his free hand up to Ranboo’s back, rubbing circles into it.

“Hey, Ranboo, it's okay. We’re here. Breathe with me, yeah?” He hadn’t even noticed how his breathing had sped up, but he allowed Tommy to guide him through the panic attack, as he counted their breaths, in and out, moving the hand on his back up and down along with the rhythm.

After a few minutes of counting and failed attempts, Ranboo had managed to considerably calm down. In that time, the three of them had managed to maneuver into a laying down position, both Ranboo and Tubbo practically laying on top of Tommy, nearly crushing him, but somehow, they were comfortable. After a couple more moments of them all breathing together, Tubbo broke the silence.

“Hey, ‘Boo, you think you could manage to tell us what happened? You don’t have to, but it would help Tommy and I be able to help you.” Ranboo took a deep, stuttering breath, before he opened his mouth to speak. His voice was rough and scratchy, but he pushed on anyway.

“I-Its stupid, really. I was just in a certain, u-uh,, m-mood, and got frustrated with myself. I-I’m fine, really, I was just upset that I couldn’t say what I was thinking.” Tubbo caught on to what Ranboo meant by “mood” pretty quickly, Ranboo having told him about it before. Tommy still didn’t know what he meant by that, but pushed on anyways, and spoke up.

“That's not stupid at all, not being able to say what you’re thinking can be really frustrating and scary. You did a great job just now, though, with telling us what happened, I’m proud of you for that.” Ranboo whined at the slight praise, though he couldn’t deny how Tommy’s words and reassurances made him feel better.

Tubbo forced himself to sit up, stretching his arms and rubbing his eyes.

“Why don’t we put on a movie? And, uh,, if you wanted to um,, do something about that mood, ‘Boo, we could. Or not! Whatever you’re comfortable with, I don’t wanna push you! We could just watch the movie!” Tubbo was hesitant to offer; not because he didn’t want to help Ranboo with his mood, oh no, he just didn’t wanna make him uncomfortable, or make him feel like he had to.

At the offer, Ranboo felt his face heat up. Wow, and to think that he could have just gotten that so easily. Ranboo pushed the mildly self-deprecating thought away, and shyly nodded in response, hiding his face in his hands. Tommy, still confused as ever, just watched their interaction, not saying anything.

Tubbo gently pulled one of Ranboo’s hands away from his face, offering him a reassuring smile.

“Is it alright if I explain to Tommy, ‘Boo? You know he would never judge you.” Ranboo looked away and nervously bit his lip, but nodded after a few moment’s hesitation, pulling his hand back. Tommy looked between the two, his confused expression growing concerned, both because he was worried this “mood” Ranboo was in was something bad, and because Ranboo had thought that he would judge him for it. Tubbo noticed Tommy’s concern, however, and was quick to set him straight as he guided Ranboo to lay down on the bed of his back.

“Don’t worry, Toms, it's nothing bad. Ranboo explained it to me over Discord one night. I’m pretty sure he called it a ‘lee mood,’ which basically just means that he's in the mood to be tickled!” Tubbo didn’t miss the flustered squeak that Ranboo let out when he said the word, and smiled fondly at him, even though Ranboo couldn’t see it, since he was covering his face.

Tommy, upon hearing that indeed nothing was wrong and this “mood” was something as sweet and innocent as that, instantly lit up.

“Awe, Ranboo, that's so sweet! There's nothing wrong with that at all! You want us to tickle you, big man? Is that alright?” Ranboo squeaked again, and thought this just may be the most flustered he's ever been, but it’s not a bad feeling. Definitely not.

He couldn’t even attempt to hide how happy Tommy’s positive response made him, and at the light, teasing tone in Tommy’s voice towards the end sent tingles down his spine. Unable to find his words, Ranboo just nodded in response, curling up slightly. He let out yet another squeak as he felt someone’s hands on his sides, unable to hold in his anticipatory giggles even though the hands weren’t even moving yet. He shyly peaked out from behind his hands to see who had placed their hands on him, only to immediately hide again as the other two cooed at his reaction.

“Giggling already, ‘Boo? I haven’t even done anything!” Ranboo shook his head in response, his giggles heightening in pitch.

“Dohohon’t tehehease!” Tubbo pouted playfully at Ranboo, not that he could see him.

“Awe, why not? It's fun teasing you, because I get to see your adorable little flush and hear your sweet giggles!” Ranboo only whined louder, causing both lers to laugh.

Tubbo began to lightly massage little circles into Ranboo’s sides where his hands were laying, occasionally scratching his nails into the sensitive skin. Ranboo, his sides being a fairly bad spot and already being wound up from the teasing and anticipation, let out an embarrassingly loud squeal, arching his back.

“Whoa, did you see that Toms? His sides must be sooo ticklish!” Tubbo snickered.

As much as he was enjoying watching Tubbo tickle Ranboo to bits, Tommy decided he was bored of just watching, and would find a spot as well. After a couple moments of consideration, Tommy fluttered his fingers over Ranboo’s neck, gasping excitedly at the squeaky giggles the spot produced. Ranboo shook his head back and forth and scrunched up his shoulders, still keeping his hands over his face.

“C’mon, ‘Boo, stay still for me, yeah? It’s hard for me to tickle you when you’re moving around all over the place.”

Ranboo still couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it had been such a long time since he’d been tickled, he honestly wasn’t sure where he was ticklish, or even if he was ticklish at all anymore.

So when Tommy’s fingers glided over his ears by accident, even he was surprised by the shrill shriek that he let out. The sound startled the other two into stopping for a moment, and Ranboo felt himself flush darker. He was about to start apologising when suddenly Tommy’s fingers were back to his ears, tracing his nails around the shells of them.

“Holy shit ‘Boo, I didn’t even know someone’s ears could be so ticklish,” Tommy giggled.

“SHUHut uhuhuhup!” Ranboo’s plea fell on deaf ears, as Tubbo picked up his tickling at Ranboo’s sides.

“No fair! How come Tommy gets the good spot?” Tubbo playfully complained, a childish pout on his face. Tommy let out his signature barking laugh, and stuck his tongue out at the other.

“Sucks to suck, bitch boy!” Tubbo just huffed in response, deciding to try out a different spot; maybe he could find a spot worse than his ears.

Ranboo would normally laugh at them and play along with their childish antics, but something about how they were talking about tickling him so casually was extremely flustering to him.

“Guhuhuys! NohoHOHO!” Tubbo’s fingers had pressed into the divots between Ranboo’s ribs, vibrating them in place. Ranboo threw his head back in laughter, his hands finally leaving his face to instead latch onto Tubbo’s wrists, though he didn’t push them away.

Tubbo grinned victoriously, flashing Tommy a cocky smirk as Ranboo began kicking his legs out underneath him. Tommy just growled in response, immediately searching for a new spot. He experimentally squeezed at Ranboo’s thigh, being rewarded with another hiccup, but not much else. Tommy pouted as Tubbo cackled at him, narrowing his eyes at the shorter.

“‘Sucks to suck,’ huh Toms?” Tubbo mocked, eyes lighting up as he reached Ranboo’s upper ribs, causing Ranboo to let out a louder hiccup than the others and a squeak.

Ranboo couldn’t even attempt to form proper words now, between how hard he was laughing and how flustered he was, and he was enjoying every second of it. After a bit longer, Tubbo began to slow down his fingers, allowing Ranboo to take a breather.

As Ranboo began to recover, Tommy smirked as he got an idea. He gracelessly shoved Tubbo off of Ranboo, earning him an undignified squawk from the shorter, before he sat himself on Ranboo’s hips and unleashed all ten of his fingers along his belly.

Ranboo jolted like he was electrocuted, not expecting the sudden attack, before snorting and falling into loud belly laughter. As Tommy crowed victoriously, Tubbo couldn’t even bring himself to be upset that he lost their little ‘competition,’ instantly cooing at Ranboo.

“Awwe, does someone have a ticklish belly?” After a moment of violent thrashing, Ranboo went limp, and just accepted his fate. Even though he was laughing so hard his belly was starting to hurt, and he could feel tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, he couldn’t deny how good this felt. To be so carefree around his friends, not even trying to muffle or contain his reactions as he snorted and laughed to his heart's content.

“NAHAHAHA- *snort* T-TOHOHOMS!” Tommy laughed as his name was called out, pulling his hands away from Ranboo’s belly, flopping on the bed next to him. Tubbo climbed back up on the bed as well, laying himself across the other two. Tommy grunted from Tubbo’s weight being added onto him, and pulled Ranboo into his arms, rubbing his back soothingly. Ranboo buried his face into Tubbo’s hair, trying to regulate his breathing. After a minute of comfortable (almost) silence and Ranboo’s giggling still hadn’t let up, Tubbo laughed, rubbing his shoulder.

“You alright, Boo?” Ranboo nodded, his head falling back against the bed, taking deep breaths.

“Y-yeahahaha, I’m goohohod.” Tommy fondly rolled his eyes as the giggling still didn’t completely stop, pulling the two closer to him. Tubbo shifted around, wrapping himself around Ranboo, before relaxing and closing his eyes. The only two followed shortly after him.

“Softyinnit.”

“Shut the fuck up Tubbo.”

#tickle fic #mcyt tickle fic #lee!ranboo #ler!tubbo #ler!tommy #ler!tommyinnit

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duskholland · 4 years

Text

Meet Your Match || Mob!Tom Smut

Summary ↠ It’s always awkward when your current boyfriend meets your ex, but it’s a whole new level when it transpires that your ex-boyfriend is the leader of Tom’s rival mob...

Warnings ↠ 18+, contains mature nsfw material. There are extended warnings beneath the cut, but this is quite heavy.

Word count ↠ 5.9k

A/N ↠ Genuinely am shocked that this came out of my head tbh. It is very intense so please consult the warnings before you dive in ! The entire concept of the first half is very random and almost crack, but then the second half...phew. Sheesh. Thanks to V, mischiefandi, for suggesting I write in a hot Irish mobster as Y/N’s ex...love that for her, and I love you V. I hope you all enjoy this :)

This is a part of my mob!Tom series – a collection of oneshots set within the same universe. You don’t need to read the other parts for this to make sense! You can find the other parts in my masterlist.

18+ do not touch this if you are a minor.

extended warnings: lol. mob themes including gun mention and punching, a broken nose ft minor mentions of blood, a bit of a dodgy ex who makes some uncomfortable comments, alcohol, possessive!jealous!Tom, d/s dynamics, soft!dom!Tom, mean!dom!Tom, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), spitting, orgasm denial and edging, guided masturbation, rough sex, doggy-style, like two minor instances of spanking, he calls her slut once. im not here to fuck around this goes hard so if you aren’t into rough stuff this isn’t for you. also includes unprotected sex -- please practise safe sex (condoms provide barriers against STIs as well as unwanted pregnancy. pls be safe irl). i would like mob!tom to rail me thank u. enjoy.

--------- Meet Your Match ---------

You’d never given much thought to the possibility of Tom meeting one of your exes. Why would you, when being with him is infinitely more satisfying, loving, and enjoyable than it had ever been with one of them?

But if you’d had to imagine it, you would’ve pictured it casually. Maybe you’d be out somewhere together - at a café, or a market, with Tom’s arm wrapped safely around you. You’d see your ex - whoever it may be - and there’d be an awkward encounter. The exchange of painful hellos and goodbyes, maybe some piercing stares, and pinched words. Then, you’d move on, and that would be that.

Never, in your wildest dreams, would you have imagined you’d run into your ex-boyfriend whilst in attendance at a meeting of the London mobs.

It’s a special event - a large, networking occasion, organised by Tom, as an opportunity for him to meet with his partners and rivals, as they come together to cordially bond over beer and discuss business plans. It’s hosted right in the centre of Piccadilly, in the elegant conference room of a luxurious hotel. You’re just starting to relax and settle in when you glance across the room and see him:

Aidan. Your ex-boyfriend. At… A meeting of the mobs of London?

“What the fuck,” you mutter. You almost drop your glass of champagne as you narrow your eyes and stare. The conference room is vast, adorned with glittering chandeliers and large banquet tables, but it’s undeniable: Aidan is here.

“Everything alright, love?” Tom’s by your side, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your shoulders. He’s in remarkably high spirits this evening. The event is fully underway, and judging by the snippets of conversation you’ve been hearing, Tom’s latest plans are coming into fruition - something about warehouses, and a shipment of class A drugs. But none of it matters now, because your mind is entirely elsewhere.

“No,” you state immediately.

Tom cranes his neck, his eyes seeking you out. You manage to drag your gaze away from Aidan for a brief second.

“What is it?” He’s looking at you with those deep, warm brown eyes, and his gaze is so tender it makes your breath hitch. One of Tom’s fingers moves up to caress your cheek, and you find yourself shifting guiltily on your feet.

“Who, exactly, did you invite to this meeting?” You ask your boyfriend, speaking in hushed tones. Your eyes slip back to Aidan, and you feel yourself relax as you note he’s still deep in conversation with a few men.

“Suppliers, rivals, allies… Anyone of importance, really.” Tom narrows his eyes, his thumb brushing over your chin as he looks at you closely. “Why?”

“Did you know that you’ve also invited my ex-boyfriend?”

Judging by the look of utter shock on Tom’s face, he had not, in fact, realised his fundamental truth.

“Who?” He asks immediately. His face shifts through several shades before settling on jealous, with his eyebrows bunched together.

You turn around, resting one hand on the broad shoulder of Tom’s suit before using your other to point out across the crowd.

“Aidan.”

Tom squints his eyes, a small rumbling noise travelling up his throat. “Aidan?” He repeats, his voice flooded with confusion. You hum affirmatively. “Bloke with the blond hair? Irish?” Again, a hum. Tom releases a short, curt chuckle. “Angel, he’s not called Aidan.”

“What?” You exclaim.

Tom releases a deep sigh. “That’s Gordy. He runs the Eastside.”

You feel your jaw loosen. A fake name. “Gordy Byrne?”

“The one and only.”

“Shit.”

You’ve been with Tom for a year. Over those long, fulfilling twelve months, you’ve picked up on several important key pieces of information about the London mob: it’s split into three factions, each sector run by a different figurehead. Tom and his family control the South-West, and they’re in constant disagreement with Gordy, of the East, and Monique, of the North. Each third is continuously testing the waters, trying to take over land, and supplies, and emerge as the solo Kingpin of London. The fragile alliance between the three families is constantly on the verge of disintegration.

And Gordy is your ex, who you’d met three years ago at the same exclusive club you’d worked in when you’d met Tom. Your relationship had lasted eight months and ended on equal terms as you’d mutually agreed the spark had fizzled away. Despite the considerable span of your relationship, you’d had no suspicions that he’d been involved with the mob. The thought is incredibly jarring.

“Seems like you have a type,” Tom comments, his voice entirely too flippant.

Before you can call him out on his apparent feelings of resentment, your evening takes a further turn as you realise Gordy has spotted you and is now working his way through the sea of people towards you.

He looks just as you remember: 6’2, blond, green-eyed. His shoulders are stocky and broad, and his suit bulges with disguised muscles. He maintains that signature swagger you’d come to associate with him, his eyes glinting as he throws out a wild smile. Your eyes catch on the presence of a few new golden teeth fixed in his mouth, and then to the tattooed knuckles that hang by his side.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Gordy greets, green eyes skimming across you appreciatively, “Who’d ‘a thought we’d meet again?”

All you can really do is let out a squeak of agreement, and pull away from Tom’s side to greet the man with a kiss on the cheek. The familiar scent of Gordy’s musky cologne drifts up your nose, and it makes your head spin.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as you pull away, looking at him incredulously. His pale cheeks wear a scruff of fuzz, highlighting the high arches of his cheekbones.

“What are you doing here?” He returns, his Irish accent twanging. His eyes shift over to Tom, then back to you, and then they watch as Tom reaches out and carefully tangles his fingers with yours. “Wait…”

“Evening, mate,” Tom greets, voice a little clipped. You feel the grip on your hand tighten, and you let him reel you back into his side. You find home beneath Tom’s heavy arm as he repositions it across your shoulder, keeping you near. “I see you’ve already met my girlfriend.”

The air seems to flicker with tension.

“Interesting,” Gordy comments. He shifts his attention back to you, drawing the lines of your face with his curious eyes. “Didn’t take you for the type, Y/N. Would’ve stuck around if I’d thought you could handle this life.”

His words dig into you, and you find yourself clenching your teeth.

“You told me you worked in banking.”

“Oh, I do.” He runs his fingers down the front of his designer suit, winking. “The mob is quite a lucrative business.” He pauses, and something a little like guilt flashes over his face. “You know my real name, yeah? Gordy, not Aidan. Sorry about that. I hate the lies, but they’re for protection, y’know.”

You feel almost dizzy as you bring your glass of champagne to your lips and throw it back. The bubbles do little to soothe down your discomfort.

“Wow,” you manage. Your eyes shift up to Tom, who’s looking at Gordy with apprehension in his gaze. You understand why: for the past two months, Tom’s been engaged in a brutal turf-war with Gordy’s family over in the South-East. Men have died, shipments stolen. You know one of Tom’s primary motivations for the meeting tonight was to see if he could reach some kind of agreement with them, but the circumstances were tense enough as it was, before this.

“Isn’t this fun,” Gordy comments. He’s eyeing up Tom now, a cocky smirk hanging from his plush lower lips. “Well, Thomas, it’d seem you and I have a lot more in common than we’d thought, eh? Maybe we’ll be able to come to an agreement.”

Your stomach turns, and you feel Tom tighten his grip on your arm. He clears his throat, and when he speaks, his tone is so severe that it knocks the air from your lungs.

“Don’t talk about Y/N like that,” he warns darkly. “We will not be making any deals tonight, Gordy.”

You raise your eyebrows, trying to meet his eyes but finding that Tom ignores your attempts and instead keeps staring straight ahead at your ex-boyfriend, a determined frown hanging from his thin lips.

“Why’s that, Thomas?” He quips.

“I don’t like your attitude, I don’t like your policies, and I don’t like the way you’re looking at my girlfriend.”

Gordy arches an eyebrow. His hand slips down slowly to rest on his hip, but not before his suit jacket has ridden up just enough to expose the sleek outline of his gun, hanging low in the holster on his belt.

“Is this how it’s going to be, Tom?” He asks, shifting his eyes back to you. “Eh? I bed your bird and suddenly business is off the table?”

You can feel the mood sour, and as much as you’d like to reach out and give Gordy a piece of your mind, you are painfully aware of the circumstances: you are standing in the lion’s den. Despite the meeting of Tom’s creation, you know that there’s no chance in hell that Gordy has walked into the evening alone. To initiate any sort of heated discussion whilst surrounded by London’s most notorious gangsters would be a disastrous move.

“Tom,” you murmur, recognising all too well the signs of anger that curl out across Tom’s face: his clenched jaw, the deep frown marks on his forehead, the tight line of his lips. “Let’s go.”

For a moment you think he’s going to follow you. Tom lets you shrug off his arm and take his hand, and his posture loosens as if he’s about to turn and walk across the room with you. But then, of course, Gordy just has to get in the last word.

“Oh, well, if you’re going, you won’t mind giving me a goodbye kiss, eh, Y/N?” He peers at you with mischievous eyes, his voice lilting lightly. “Just like old times?”

Tom’s moving before you can even attempt to stop him, and you hear a loud crack as his fist sweeps up and collides with Gordy’s nose. The man doubles over, groaning profusely, and your eyes widen as you take in the stream of blood that immediately begins to pour from his face.

“Tom!” You exclaim, your eyes wide and your hands shaking. Your boyfriend grabs at your fingers, squeezing your digits in his.

“He’s not allowed to disrespect you like that,” he mutters darkly.

“I don’t need you to defend me, I can do it myself,” you hiss back. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you feel the hot lump of anger melt away as Tom looks at you through those brown, golden eyes, his mouth positioned into a guilty smile.

Two men emerge from the crowd and flank Gordy’s side. You feel a deep swell of fear pool in the pit of your stomach, and instinctively your fingers move down towards your bag for the switch-blade you’d buried alongside your lipstick. But you find your actions stilling as Gordy clears his throat, rights himself and holds up a bloody hand.

“It’s fine,” Gordy tells his guards. He tilts his head in your direction. “I deserved it. No disrespect to the lady.” His beady green eyes move to Tom. “We can finish this discussion some other time, Thomas. Good evening to you both.”

Before waiting to see if Gordy turns around and walks away, you tighten your grip on Tom’s hand and lead him out of the large conference room. It’s completely silent, and the groups of people seem to part like the sea as you escort your boyfriend from the scene, his lips brushing over the back of his bruised hand as he winces. You don’t say anything, not until you’re safely stowed away in the backseat of a large car, the doors locked, windows tinted, and driver separated by partition.

“Love, look, I’m sorry, but I-”

You cut Tom off by climbing from your seat and meeting his mouth with a deep, needy kiss. Your boyfriend releases a noise of surprise, and his hands shift up to grab at your waist as he pulls you onto his lap eagerly, pressing back against your lips with fervour. It’s messy, and you enjoy running your hands through strands of his unruly hair as he keeps you close, his fingers grasping at every area of your front and sides, mapping you out.

“What did I do to deserve that?” Tom murmurs, his curious eyes meeting yours. “Thought I was in trouble.” His hands cup your cheeks, and you give him a coy smile.

“You shouldn’t have punched him,” you tell him, biting your lip as his thumb brushes over the soft skin of your face. “I’m glad that you did, though. He was a dick.”

Tom hums. “And also the enemy, love.”

Your eyebrows knit together, and you sit back on Tom’s wide thighs as you sigh. “I can’t believe he runs one of the other mobs,” you mutter. “I can’t believe I’ve dated two mobsters, and I didn’t even know.”

Tom’s smile doesn’t quite stretch to his eyes, but he still manages a short chuckle. “I hate the thought of you being with him,” he admits. His eyes stir with something darker, and his fingers dig into your waist. “I hate the thought of you being with anyone other than me.”

You bite your lower lip as you twirl the short strands at the nape of his neck around your fingers. “It was a long time ago,” you tell him. “Our relationship wasn’t anything of consequence.”

Your boyfriend chuckles, but he’s still got that hungry glint in his eyes. You feel a shiver roll down your spine as his gaze sweeps across your face, his hands shifting up to rest on the curves of your breasts. Your dress is thin, and the neckline meant you had to go without a bra. A soft gasp falls past your lips as Tom’s thumbs brush over the lines of your nipples, which prick in response to his touch.

“Is our relationship of consequence?” Tom asks, his voice dancing. He’s staring at your chest now, his smirk widening as you instinctively push further into his hands, enjoying the feeling of his large, warm palms groping at your breasts.

“Of course.” You swallow and bring your fingers away from his neck. With careful movements, you reach up and pull the straps of your dress from your shoulders, meeting Tom’s gaze as you roll down the front of the garment, exposing your bare chest to him. “I love you.”

Tom seeks out your neck with his lips, and you release a small gasp as he sucks firmly on the base of your throat, his fingers moving over your bare chest. You can feel his mouth pulling the blood to the surface of your skin, but the pain makes you cry out in pleasure as your fingers wrap around his suit jacket and fist at the expensive material hugging his back. He takes his time as he works his way up your neck, sucking and biting, and then soothing the throbbing marks with gentle laps of his tongue and soft, open-mouthed kisses. By the time he reaches your ear, you’re squirming in his lap.

“You are mine.”

His tongue teases the lobe of your ear as his hands move all across your bare back, caressing your skin gently with his palms. The cold metal of his silver rings bites to touch, but you shiver in enjoyment.

“Yours,” you agree. Tom shifts from your neck to look at you straight on, his eyes full of dark, heady lust.

“Mine,” he repeats. His mouth is on yours, and you let him prise apart your lips with his tongue. His hands fist at your hair and he pulls you closer roughly, and your teeth collide as he kisses you sloppily, groaning into your mouth. It’s messy - with noses bashing and his digits tugging at your strands and your lips moving everywhere, slick with spit - but you feel him gather you up in his arms as he holds you. He owns you.

You make-out until the car arrives home, at which point your lips are tender and puffy and your entire body throbs with persistent arousal. Tom’s eager with his affection, but you can feel the underlying pulse of fear coasting through his veins; you want so desperately to placate it: to let him know that he has nothing to worry about - that you are his now, and probably always will be. Tom’s not alone in his discomfort - you, too, feel jilted and unbalanced after running into a ghost from your past. You need Tom desperately, in more ways that one. You need him to look after you - to hold you, be firm with you, and show you your place within your relationship. You need him to be your dom, and you crave the release of submitting to him entirely - with your mind, body and heart.

“You can do anything you want to me tonight,” you tell him. You’re standing at the foot of the bed, Tom sitting up against the headboard. His suit jacket lays off to the side, tie hanging loose around his neck and his top two buttons undone. You’ve made a mess of his hair, but he looks so fucking pretty with his chestnut curls all tousled and his lips bright pink and inflamed.

“That’s funny,” Tom comments, eyes glinting as he tilts his head to the side, “I thought I could already do that.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself biting your lower lip as your face fills up with heat.

“Do you want me to take off my dress?” Your fingers toy with the straps, which are all rolled up and uneven thanks to the hastiness in which you’d scrambled from the car.

“No.” Tom sits up, and he pats his thigh invitingly. “Take off your panties and come up here.”

You tease him a little bit, enjoying the way his gaze weighs down your figure. You’re slow to push your dress up to your waist, and you make a show of hooking your index fingers beneath the band to reveal lacy panties. You tug at the material until it falls to pool at your feet, and then you delicately step away from them and approach your boyfriend. You have a sudden thought that it’s as if you are the prey, walking straight into danger, but you welcome it: Tom’s looking at you, his expression hard but excited and his eyes swimming with darkness, and it makes your throat dry up.

“Such a gorgeous girl, aren’t you?”

The material of Tom’s slacks feels coarse against your centre as you straddle his left thigh. His hands press at your waist, pushing your cunt straight against his leg, and the contact makes you moan softly.

“You look so pretty with your neck all marked up.” Tom presses a light kiss to one of your hickeys, and you gasp as a line of pain ripples out across your skin. “You look like you’re mine.”

“I am.”

“I know.” Tom strokes his hand through your hair, eyes watching you carefully. “I’m just going to remind you.”

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” You ask, your voice wavering.

He hums, the noise suspended with confidence. “You’ll see.” His hands dig into your waist a little firmer, and he starts to guide your movements. “Work yourself against my thigh, darling. Make a nice wet spot for me.”

His words make you moan, and you’re quick to comply. You recognise the dark glint in his eyes and the layers to his voice - he’s slipping away into his harder, more dominative side, just as you find yourself eager to oblige him. You grind yourself down over his thigh, and his trousers are rough against your flushed centre. The friction burns beautifully. A few moans slip past your lips, and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press over you, digging into your waist, guiding you. Tom is very much in control, and as the seconds slip past, you give into it.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmurs, rich voice drifting into your ears. You bite your lip, your hole clenching around nothing as you swivel your hips and feel the pressure to your hot bud.

“Feels really good,” you admit, voice a whimper. “Love it when you let me touch you.”

Tom takes your chin between two fingers, looking at you with a hard stare. He pulls your face to him, his tongue licking a wide stripe over your lips. As you try to push forward for a kiss, he just moves away, a teasing smirk on his lips. “No,” he says softly, “You’ll take what I give you, and you won’t be greedy about it. I don’t want to have to punish you, babygirl.”

You nod quickly, the movement hurried and messy. It’s getting hard to think of anything other than the fact you’ve made his trousers slick with your arousal. The burn between your legs is gradually swelling to a crescendo.

“Sorry,” you whisper. Your fingers find purchase on his shoulder, and you find your forehead dropping down to rest there too as your breathing hitches.

“Are you close, darling?” He’s very soft and gentle, and it makes you whimper out a small noise of agreement. Tom chuckles, pulling at your hair as he brings your face back up, his hands bearing down on your hips to halt your movements. “Lie down for me, please.”

You scramble from his lap, your centre pulsing as it leaves his thigh. Your eyes catch on the way you’ve left a large, wet mark on his trousers, and you watch with wide eyes as Tom stands from the bed. He walks around to the foot of the mattress, his figure commanding your complete attention.

“I’ve been thinking about what I’d like to do to you,” he says, speaking quietly. His nimble fingers work down the buttons of his shirt, popping them quickly. Once his shirt is discarded, Tom works on his slacks. As the metallic sounds of his belt clicking fill the air, he smirks at you. “Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes,” you say immediately. You squeal as Tom grabs at your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor, hauling you closer until your thighs are over his shoulders and his face is near your heat. Your dress scrunches up at your waist, and you whimper as his hands press your legs apart. “I’ll always be good for you.”

“Is that right?” Tom asks, index finger running lightly over the inside of one of your thighs. He looks up at you, eyes hooded and blown wide with lust.

“Yes.”

“Prove it to me,” he instructs. “If you think you’re about to cum, you need to tell me.” Tom’s gaze darkens. “If you disobey me, you won’t enjoy what happens.” With tender lips, he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, looking at you with a gentle smile. When he speaks again, his voice is lighter, “Is this okay, darling?”

You nod.

“Words.”

As two of Tom’s fingers spread your puffy outer lips, you stammer out a broken, “Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl.”

He dives in quickly, and the press of his warm tongue against your pulsing pussy makes you cry out. You’re already feeling hot and bothered from the time you spent rutting against the coarse material of his trousers, and the pressure soothes you. He’s too far away to touch, so you curl your hands into fists and pull at the silky bed linen, eyelids fluttering shut as his tongue caresses you, over and over.

Tom makes out sloppily with your cunt, two of his slender fingers pulling up to push into your heat. He fills you easily, taking the edge off your desire as his tongue flicks over your clit, unrelenting, hard. He’s eager for it, holding nothing back as he coaxes you quickly towards a high, moaning and grunting into your centre. The vibrations drive you mad, and your mind spins off as he holds you in place.

“S-Shit,” you stammer, back arching. As much as you don’t want to say it, Tom’s already pushing you towards climax. As he curls his slender digits up against you, his tips brush against your g-spot, and it has you seeing stars. “I’m gonna cum, Tom.”

All movements stop. Tom’s mouth pulls back from your cunt, and his fingers still inside you. Your walls clench around him, but he relaxes them, halting all stimulation of your sensitive pussy as you whimper.

“Good,” he coos. Your eyes seek him out, and you moan as you see his chin slick with your juices. “You taste divine, sweetheart.” His free hand strokes over your inner thigh, calming you with gentle circles and caresses. “We’ll do this a few more times, I think. I want you dripping onto the sheets. I want you to forget about everything apart from me, and how desperate you are for me.” His teeth nip at your thigh, and you squirm.

True to his word, Tom works you up, over and over again. Each time he brings you to the edge of a high, he pulls back at the last moment, leaving you teetering on the edge for a painful second before your climax goes ebbing away from your reach. The time it takes to build up to each edge narrows considerably with each completion, and you find yourself growing desperate for more. Your skin is hot and prickles, your forehead breaking into a sweat. The muscles in your legs ache from the exertion of almost spasming into climax, time and time again, and your throat hurts from your eager, desperate moans. He’s a demon, his deep brown eyes watching you closely, sharp ears picking up each noise and sound, and he seems intent on drawing this out for as long as possible.

“I think that’s enough,” Tom finally says. Your sigh of relief is so loud and pronounced that it makes him chuckle. “What, you didn’t like that?” His hand comes down over your inner thigh, slapping softly. As the pain ripples across your skin, you whimper. “Don’t lie to me, angel. I know you love it when I’ve got my head between your legs.” His large hands slip under your thighs, and he pushes you up the bed, slipping up over you. With his body suspended above you and a hand either side of your head, Tom raises his eyebrows. “Open,” he instructs.

What he does next makes your eyes roll back. You open your mouth immediately, and he chuckles darkly. One hand holds your jaw, and you watch as Tom purses his lips, eyes you intently, and then spits directly into your mouth. The taste of your cunt spreads out across your tongue, and your hole clenches around nothing as you moan loudly.

“Swallow,” he says. You close your mouth and do just that, and then you stick out your tongue for him to see. “Good,” he coos. Tom kisses you suddenly, the action hard as he sucks on your tongue. When he pulls back, he kisses your nose. “Pretty girl, aren’t you? My pretty girl.”

His lips skate all across your face, dusting you in warm kisses of reward.

“I love you,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The gratitude you feel towards him for knowing exactly what you need is boundless, consuming.

“And I love you.” You share a tender moment of understanding as Tom brushes his hand over your face, and in the look you exchange, you know that he feels as you do: appreciation towards your partner, for reading you and obliging you. He hums softly, slipping away from you after a final kiss to pull off his boxers. “Take off your dress for me, love. Give me a show.”

You’re shaky on your feet, but you manage to stand in front of the bed. Tom sits up against the headboard, working his hand over his erect length as he watches you. You tease him, just like you know he enjoys, taking your time as you roll the sleeves down and unzip the back. The material goes tumbling to the floor, pooling at your feet, and then you’re entirely naked - wearing only his hickeys, and his spit between your legs.

“Beautiful,” he says, eyes glinting. “You’re an angel, aren’t you?” When you shrug bashfully, he nods. “My angel. C’mere.” You move to him, but he stops you before you can reach for his cock. “I want you to lie down here and show me how you get off.”

“But I want--”

He shuts you up with a hard stare. “Do you really want to finish that sentence?” When you’re quiet, he hums. You can’t stop staring at the way his hands slide over his length. Your mouth waters at the thought of letting your tongue wander over his leaking tip, collecting the beads of salty precum. “Do this for me, and then I’ll let you have what you want.”

You part your legs, your thighs aching. As you dip your hand between your legs, you whimper to feel your slick mixed with Tom’s spit. Your skin is soaked, and as you nimbly press two fingers into your hole, you find it looser, already stretched from Tom’s exploration earlier. You can feel his eyes on you, watching your hand move as you slowly fuck yourself with your fingers, getting pleasure from the knuckle of your thumb as it brushes up against your clit.

As you begin to whimper, Tom swoops in with his final lesson of the evening. He reaches down, wrapping his hand around yours, guiding your movements. He sets the pace and the angle, speeding up your thrusts. The sound of your wetness sloshing around makes you cry out loudly as he edges you perfectly, like he knows your body better than you.

“You see this,” he mutters, voice husky. “I give you pleasure. It doesn’t matter if it’s my tongue in your cunt, or my fingers, or my cock. This cunt?” He curls your fingers, and they brush up against your g-spot, making you cry out. “This cunt is mine. You are mine.”

You almost lose it right there, the deep husky tones of his dominant voice sending you spinning, but then Tom pulls away. As your walls flutter weakly around nothing, he pats at your hip.

“Hands and knees, darling.”

Your arms shake as you roll over, adopting the position. Again, Tom stands at the foot of the bed, pulling you back until you’re spread open for him. You feel his cock, dragging through your slick folds, teasing your tender clit until your hips jerk forwards. Your bud aches almost painfully, your body pulled tight with an overwhelming need to climax.

“Please,” you beg desperately, dropping your head between your arms. “Please, please.”

Tom’s hand smooths over the curve of your ass, silver ring biting coolly against you, “Does my darling want to feel my cock?”

“Yes, please.”

“Hmm.” Easily, he slips the tip of his cock past your entrance. “I suppose you deserve it,” he teases. “Been such a good little slut for me, haven’t you?”

When Tom finally fucks into you, the moan you release is almost pornographic. He’s been teasing you, over and over, drawing you close to orgasm only to jerk it away from you each time, but now that he’s got his length buried up to the hilt inside you, you know it’s been worth it. Nothing compares to the relief you feel as you realise you’ll be allowed to finish soon, your walls squeezing his cock.

The pace is punishing, and everything blurs together. His hands on your hips, holding you in place, pulling you back rhythmically to meet with his thrusts. As his slick cock pounds into you over and over, his flushed tip nudges against your g-spot. The stimulation makes your eyes tear up, and a few hot tears skate across your cheeks as you whimper and cling to the sheets.

“Fuck, princess, you’re fucking perfect for me, aren’t you?” A hand falls over your bum, and you moan. “So tight and warm. Feels so snug around me, lovie. So perfect.” Tom’s voice comes out firm, but it wavers, and you can imagine the grimace of pleasure on his face. “Always take me so well.” His hand moves to the top of your back, and he pushes you into the bed. Your face buries into the sheets as the angle adjusts, and you gasp loudly as the adjustment means he can rail you harder.

“S-Shit,” you moan. “Love your cock, Tommy. Pl-Please.”

“What do you need?”

You whimper, the power of his thrusts fucking you further into the mattress. “W’nna cum.”

“You can play with your clit then.”

Tears fly down your cheeks, and it feels overwhelming as you nudge a hand between your legs to fondle your bud. Tom’s hands hold your hips, keeping you nice and open for him, and you’re glad for the heavy pressure on your skin. It keeps you anchored down.

“Are you close?” He asks, grunting heavily as he feels your walls squeeze him.

“Yes.”

“I think you deserve to cum, don’t you?” He pauses briefly, cursing lowly, pace faltering. “Let go, darling. Let me feel you squeezing me. I want to feel what I do to you.”

The action of his deep, fast thrusts mixes with your fingers on your clit, and you cum with a loud, quivering scream. Tom holds you down, fucking into you as you spasm and writhe in the sheets, and after a few, mind-numbing moments of pleasure, you feel him follow you with a grunt. His hot speed paints your walls, his noises of heady enjoyment mixing with yours, and it just prolongs your climax.

When you calm down, Tom carefully pulls out from you. You whimper at the loss, feeling a little out of it as he turns you over, pushes you up into the centre of the bed and pulls you on top of him. Your head settles in the crook of his neck, his hands palming over your back as he kisses the top of your head, over and over again.

“So good for me,” he mumbles. Your legs tangle together. You can feel his cum spilling from your hole, dripping down onto him, but he doesn’t seem to care. “My best girl. I love you so much.”

You hum quietly, rubbing your hand over the top of his arm as you whimper. “Love you too,” you manage, voice hoarse.

Tom’s hands cup your face, and he gently coaxes you up until he can meet with your eyes. His fingers brush away the teary residue from your cheeks, and he kisses you softly.

“Mine,” he mumbles against you, smiling into your lips as you hum in agreement. One of your hands folds into his curls, and you feel your heart stirring contentedly in your chest.

“Yours.”

---------

lol. hope you enjoyyyyed :)

I’m intending to do some mob!Tom blurbs next week for mob!Monday, so if you have any concepts you’d like to see, please send them to my ask box!

ask box is open for your thoughts!! I’m dying to know what you think of this... 👀

masterlist linked in bio!

#tom holland punch my lights out challenge ❤️#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #mob!tomfic #mm #smut #y/n #y/n use #self insert #self-insert #yeeeeeep #queue

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sableseb · 3 years

Text

Illusion

Jack Benjamin x escort!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: allusions to homophobia, sex work, smut, rough & quick, spanking, exhibitionism, dirty talk, degradation

The events that have unfolded in the past couple of days lay scattered in Jack’s mind. He paces the expanse of his lavish quarters thinking of how his life went to shit this fast. His mother and father know. They know how he craves the touch of a man. His father told him to hide it, hide the feelings he has and never let them resurface. His mother slapped him for saying he loved another man. He pushed his secret lover away for the sake of his reputation. Now, the whole court is questioning him, hanging his sexuality over his head in case they ever need to bring him down.

His parents explicitly stated that to be King, he must put away his sinful, lust fueled desires for the same sex. This kingdom his father built is based on the Christian faith and what sort of God fearing kingdom would want a King that kisses men? What a joke. It always leaves a bad taste in his mouth and a sick feeling of not being accepted in his stomach.

As Jack looks out of his bedroom window to the twinkling night life below, he makes a decision. To him, being King is above his true feelings. He’ll follow his parents wishes like the good little soldier he always is. He’ll keep up his playboy, panty dropper act for the sake of the crown resting atop of his head one day.

They want a ladies man? They’ll get one, they’ll see he’s worthy of the crown. He may prefer sleeping with men, but that doesn’t mean he has a disdain for the feeling of a cock drunk broad wrapped around him. And luckily for him, his suave attitude and pretty boy face works like a charm each time he needs a quick fuck.

He knows of a night club that’s crawling with bachelors, married men, and even women looking for a good time, with their night ending by taking one of the ladies who work there home and finding pleasure in between the sheets.

Jack pulls out his cell and taps the first number in his contacts. He bites his nails on the hand currently occupying the phone in anticipation for what he has planned tonight. It’s sure to get everyone off his dick.

It rings for a beat before a, “Hello?” cracks through the speaker.

“Louis? It’s Jack. I’m going out tonight. Make sure all the paparazzi knows. Tell them I’ll be at Pyre.” he says hastily while going around his room searching for his coat.

The line is silent for a moment. Louis knows not to question Jack’s requests when he gets that oddly, erratic tone in his voice. Without a second thought Louis says, “I don’t know what you’re up to, but be careful.”

Jack ends the call and makes his way out of the castle down to the city goers below. There’s a slight chill in the air that goes unnoticed by the people in barely there clothing looking for their next party spot. He brushes through the crowds to his desired destination. Bright, neon colors light up the whole block and to his right, he sees it. Sultry, red cursive lettering spelling out, “Pyre.”

He’s met with flashing cameras and yelling at the front entrance of the club. Good to know Louis is still a worthy asset. He flashes that pearly, white smile that borders boyish charm and slyness. The King and Queen’s son is always a hot topic in the press. And he’s sure that after tonight, he’ll be a hot topic nationwide.

As he steps through the club’s threshold, he’s met with darkness and thumping music. The only source of light coming from the strobes that bounce across the sweat soaked bodies grinding against one another.

He starts to assess the women and sees you. Clad in a silver dress that falls just below that round ass and heels that accentuate those long legs leaning against the bar stool. You’re perfect. Perfect enough for him to already sport a hard on.

He makes his way to you with a certain air of confidence that only he seems to possess. He comes up beside you and leans into your ear to, rather loudly, say over the bass, “The name’s Jack. And I’d really love to have some company tonight.”

You turn to face the man that made his presence known and take him in. Oh, so the prince is the one who needs a good fucking. You’d be lying if you said that this moment in time didn’t give you an ego trip. You’ve always thought about what it would be like to press your lips to his perfect pout and stare into those baby blues as he takes you apart ever since he graced the cover of VOGUE.

You smirk into your drink. “I know a prince when I see one, Mr. Benjamin.”

He figured as much you’d recognize him. All the kingdom knows of him and his risque reputation.

“Then, I’m guessing you won’t deny a prince of his request? I pay handsomely.” he states matter of factually.

He honestly didn’t have to pay you to do anything he desires. You’d have dropped on your knees in the middle of this club if that’s what he wanted. And little did you know, that’s close to what he needed your assistance for in the first place.

With a hefty transaction and a few drinks, you’re walking arm in arm with Jack to the hotel he rented a room in. You feel like a celebrity. A devilishly handsome man on your right, paparazzi on your left, and thousands in cash sitting nice and pretty in your purse. You just hope he’s a decent lay. You haven’t had one of those in awhile. Most of the men you’ve worked with didn’t even make you cum, always left you high and dry. But, the cash they guaranteed was worth the disappointment.

He walks up to the lobby desk and asks for his key card. As the lobbyist searches for the correct one labeled “Benjamin” your gaze drifts. This place is nice to say the least. It’s sleek and mature. A complete contrast to the man next you with his bright eyes and plush face.

After acquiring the card that’ll seal your fate for a one night stand, you both make your way to the elevator. You decide to make the first move once the doors close. Your sexual attraction getting the best of you. As the numbers ticked up, you turn to face the Adonis. You fist his jacket between your hands to pull him in close and whisper low in his ear, “Ya know, Jack,” you let your lips graze his ear with each word you speak, “I really hope you live up to that title you carry.”

Your hand rubs down, starting at his chest and snaking its way down his toned stomach to cup his dick through his pants. Jack’s breath hitches as you languidly palm him. Little shocks of pleasure spike across his spine. He’s a bit taken back from this forwardness you possess. No one ever showed a dominant side with him. He’s the one always in control. And he’s keeping it that way.

He runs his large hands along your curves causing you to lean into him even more before he takes your hand off him and retches your arm back. You’re spun around with such force that your mouth hangs open in shock. He roughly pulls you against him, trapping your aching arm between your back and his firm body.

“Listen real close, baby.” he spits, words laced with venom. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m the one in charge. So, be a good little whore and keep it in your panties until we get to the room.”

The elevator dings and he lets you go, only to grab your hand and practically drag you to the suite. You take note of the wetness that’s pooled in the flimsy fabric between your legs from the little altercation. This little playboy has a rough side, and you can’t wait to see just how rough he can get.

His slender, ringed fingers put the key card to the scanner until the light turns green and you're swept away into the most luxurious room you’ve ever stepped foot in. Dull lights make the blue hues and black tones even that much more alluring. A giant mirror hangs above a bed fit for a prince and the large windows show the city in all its glory.

Jack stalks over towards the window sitting in the middle of the large room. He sees men with cameras still mingling about below trying to get some shots of him and his latest conquest. He’ll give these sleazy excuses of people the shots they desire and more.

You shed your coat and purse before making your way towards the hulking figure near the window. You can tell something plagues his mind. It’s not hard to sense when he looks like a lost puppy in the moon’s hue.

He glances at you as he moves to stand behind you. He pulls you in close by your waist and brushes your hair away from your neck. His fingers are so feather like you almost couldn’t register them. His lips though, you can feel them just fine as they pepper kisses and bites along your neck.

“City’s beautiful isn’t it?” he asks in between his sucking and biting. Creating little patch works of art across the expanse of your skin.

You’re in a trance and all you can do is hum in agreement. The feeling of his hands groping the soft flesh of your hips and his lips dragging along the base of your neck has you silently enjoying the attention. The only sounds coming from you are whimpers and breathy moans.

It’s a symphony to Jack’s ears. He finds your sounds more beautiful than anything Haydn conducted. He may just want sex, but he knows how to appreciate the beauty he finds in the people he beds. He might be an asshole, but he’s an asshole with a taste for the human form.

He places your hands against the window and kicks your legs apart. “What’re you doing?” you ask in slight concern.

As he’s making quick work of discarding his clothes he simply states, “I’m going to fuck you while the city watches.”

What? You couldn’t have heard him right. There’s people down there that could easily see, there’s a million dollar mattress made for a rough fucking. A window is not what you wanted. But, what you want doesn’t matter in your profession and it certainly doesn’t matter to the prince as he pushes his naked body against your clothed one, trapping you against the cold glass.

He hikes your dress up past your hips and stares at the pretty lace thong sitting between your full ass. He grabs at the flesh, pawing and kneading before landing a harsh slap. You jerk against the glass and you feel the sting go straight to your core.

The cool metal of his rings soothe over the places he strikes, easing the burn. His cock is leaking at the site of you spread out for him and the whole world to see.

“You see all the cameras below us, baby?” he asks while rutting his aching member against you. You can feel his precum sticking to your skin. He reaches around your body and pulls your breasts from the confines of the sparkling material of your dress. He starts treating your chest like he did your ass just moments ago. His rings catch your nipple with each grope of your chest making you mewl and arch back against him.

“Make sure to smile pretty, cause you’re going to show them how good I fuck this cunt.”

He rips your panties down your legs and stands between them. You’re soaked for him. And the thought of people watching as he uses you makes you even more wet. You feel him rub his dick through your sticky folds. He bumps your clit a few times and your legs shake with each pass of his bulbous tip against your bundle of nerves.

He slowly pushes in. Your walls welcome him as he bottoms out with ease and you're both letting out pleasured groans. “Oh, fuck.” you gasp. The feeling of his thick cock resting inside you makes your eyes roll in the back of your head. He’s almost hurting you with his size. And so, you try to scoot up a bit to relieve the ache he’s creating.

He grabs your throat, jerking you back up to him. You let out a pained cry. You’re trying to adjust, truly, but he isn’t helping you.

“Nuh uh.” he growls. “You’re going to take what I give you, slut.”

The bit of gentleness he showed you was just the calm before the storm. He forces your face against the window and starts to thrust in and out. His pace is hard and rough. His grip on your scalp helps with leverage. He knows you’re enjoying the stroke of his dick with the screams you let out and the way your pussy is pulsing around him.

“God, how is a whore this tight?” he leans in towards your face, taking in the sickly sweet fragrance you adorn and pants against your neck, “You like being watched don’t you, my dirty girl? I know you do because this,” he lands a smack against your pulsing cunt, “is milking me.”

You let the degrading words help you towards your climax. He’s hitting that spot inside you just right. His balls are hitting your clit with each sharp snap of his hips and it’s all too much. You can barely hold yourself up, the only anchor you have is his firm hold across your stomach.

You both notice the flash of the cameras going off, but it doesn't faze you, you both love it. It makes both of your senses heightened. The thought of these pictures plastered on every magazine and news station has Jack gripping your hair even harder and driving into with such force you fear the glass may crack.

“Jack,” you cry. “Oh, fuck right there. Harder.”

He slaps a hand over your mouth to silence your pleas. “Shut up, bitch.”

He forces your head back and the new angle your body creates has tears welling up in your eyes. The pleasure he’s giving you is borderline painful. But, his tight grip across your mouth and the delicious force of his dick has you wanting more.

Jack can tell you’re getting close because it’s getting harder to pull out of your tightness. He takes his hand that's in your hair and braces it against your hip, making you fuck yourself against him.

“You wanna cum, baby? Go ahead. Show em’ how this cunt swallows me up.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. You scream behind the palm of his hand. You can’t seem to catch your breath, your lungs ache from the air he’s keeping you from. You’re practically lifeless as he fucks up into you, chasing his own release.

“Shit...” he gasps. The vice-like grip you have on him has him snapping his hips against you faster. Jack feels his lower stomach tighten and his balls constrict before he pulls out and finishes on your lower back, just below the bunched up fabric. He takes a moment to admire the mess he created on you. He’s sure his plan of fucking a woman so openly will diminish any doubts about him and who he beds.

He pulls on his underwear and makes his way to the bar occupying the corner of the room to make himself a drink. You take a moment to catch your breath and drag your body from the condensed window pain. Your hair is wild, makeup smeared, and you have cum stuck to your thighs and back. You feel more used than usual. But, this prick just gave you the best orgasm of your life and you’d do it all over again.

You straighten yourself up as much as you can before turning around and being met with a steely, blue gaze. “Congrats, sweetheart.” he smirks, taking a drink from whatever concoction he created, smacking his lips. “You’re a star.”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #jack benjamin #jack benjamin smut #jack benjamin x reader #kings

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n1kolaiz · 3 years

Text

"Man fears death and yet, at the same time, man is drawn to death. Death is endlessly consumed by men in cities and in literature. It is a singular event in one's life that none may reverse. That is what I desire."

Character Analysis: Dazai Osamu

Age: 22 || Ability: No Longer Human

I've done a lot of research concerning Dazai's character because of how complex he'd initially appeared to me. It is still a question as to what his personality type is; some say he's an ENTP while others argue that he's an INTJ, and his enneagram would most likely be 7w8 (The Realist), but that isn't the thing I'm going to focus on.

According to general databases and fan analyses, his temperament is dominantly melancholic. A person's temperament is basically how they react to and live in this world. For those of you not interested in such details, don't worry, I'll get to my point.

The melancholic behaviour is characterised by individualism, self-reliance, and reservation. People of the melancholic temperament are described as having been overcome with sorrow and depressive thoughts, which is beyond the feeling of "just being sad."

Nonetheless, they are generally calm beings, with a tendency to hide how they truly feel by keeping their composure, even in events that demand severe reaction otherwise. Other aspects of melancholic temperaments is that they are absorbed in the cruelty and tragedy of this world, and tend to get lost in their thoughts.

Sound familiar?

Dazai is seen to be as the comic relief of the adaptation, and he'd never fail to bring about a sense of lightheartedness to relieve the serious moments; we all know that for sure. Remember the time both him and Kunikida found Nobuko Sasaki in that godforsaken hospital, and how Kunikida asked him about his opinion on the current state of affairs?

But, despite having developed a calm and serene personality, Dazai's dark side was more apparent during the Dark Era. There was a type of intimidating and arrogant flair evident in his behaviour, or even on his face. It was the type of demeanour that came off cold and terrifying to the rather unlucky people he dealt with. In a moment's notice, they could literally die by his hands. And I believe most of them usually did. It was during this time, he was more brutal and vicious. He lacked remorse. Plus, Dazai's suicidal ideations were more dense during this Era, and his suicidal tendencies did not do anything to alleviate the depth of how dark his character was posed to be.

Side note: Unfortunately, people misunderstand this 'depressed' part of Dazai; they minimise his character so much to the point that people use only a single word to describe him: suicidal. He is, in fact, so much more than that. I'll elaborate more on that in a while.

"Hey, Odasaku, do you know why I joined the Mafia? I joined the Mafia because of an expectation I had. I thought if I was close to death and violence—close to people giving in to their urges and desires, then I would be able to see the inner nature of humankind up close. I thought if I did that… I would be able to find something—a reason to live."

Dazai's approach to life is that of an aimless soul, weary of the world's oppressions and exhausted from the concept of living itself. Nevertheless, what he said above about having an expectation made me realise something: he had a goal, which he wasn't that enthusiastic about achieving—seeking for a reason to carry on with life. So he joined the Mafia.

And there, he met Oda Sakunosuke.

Despite how resilient Dazai carried himself to be (especially during the Dark Era), this specific excerpt stands in direct opposition of how he effortlessly embodied all things daunting:

"With every step I take, I feel as though the earth has opened up into a bottomless pit as I fall endlessly. As Dazai pointed to his forehead and approached the muzzle, the look on his face – like that of a child about to burst into tears – had already been branded upon my eyes."

- quoted by Oda Sakunosuke, excerpt from Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era Light Novel.

When I read this, it sent my mind into a spiral of despair and confusion. It was so vague, yet it made so much sense. Dazai was desperate to escape from this life, but part of him seemed to live in conflict with his desire for death. I won't elaborate more on this, because this specific excerpt has personal meaning to me, as I'd expect it to have for others as well; so I wouldn't want to ruin anyone else's perception on it.

Back to my point: Odasaku was one of the only characters who managed to interpret the complexity of Dazai's mindset and was able to compartmentalise the specific details of his persona that made Dazai the way he was. Oda knew that Dazai wasn't just suicidal.

"For most things in life, it's harder to succeed than fail. Wouldn't you agree? That's why I should attempt suicide rather than commit it! Committing suicide is difficult, but it should be relatively easier to fail at attempting suicide!"

Others boasted about how he was just a suicidal maniac, and that was only because of how good Dazai was at concealing his own feelings whilst flamboyantly priding himself in new, risky techniques, which he sometimes elaborated on. But Oda, on the other hand, saw through his jokes, and empathised with his friend, never wanting to ever barge into his vulnerability without Dazai's permission, but still trying to be there for him.

"Listen. You told me if you put yourself in a world of violence and bloodshed, you might be ale to find a reson to live. You won't find it. You should know that. Whether you're on the side that takes lives or the side that saves them, nothing beyond your own expectations will happen. Nothing in this world can fill the hole that is your loneliness. You will wander the darkness for eternity."

Notice how Odasaku recognised Dazai's despair, before Dazai even dared to acknowledge his very own emotions? That was why, at Oda's death, he took the initiative to uncover Dazai's bandaged eye to show him that there was no use in concealing his feelings anymore.

Odasaku's last words to Dazai was to "be on the side that saves people," for he was aware that even though Dazai didn't believe there was a clear distinction between good and evil, he thought that perhaps Dazai would find meaning in his life, even if it was just a little bit of purpose.

In Dead Apple, we briefly relive this moment, but I'll write more on that some other time.

And when Dazai joined the ADA, he loses that dark side to him. No, wait, let me rephrase that: he loses a part of that dark side to him. He eliminated the raw sense of bitterness against the world from his face, and instead, he is seen to be a little more passive, and a little more adaptive. No doubt, he still does explicitly state his desire to die, but his wishes are very specific, if you know what I mean.

And a few years later, his journey with Atsushi began.

Atsushi and Dazai's relationship is just one of a kind. I think it isn't a matter of whether Atsushi needed Dazai, or whether Dazai needed Atsushi. It's the fact that they both needed each other. It's the way they both worked hand in hand, and how they sustained each other in ways they were lacking.

The two were polar opposites, but they had a tender kind of warmth embedded in their protectiveness for each other. Atsushi was just as lost as Dazai, but somehow, they worked together just fine. It was like their duality was meant to be. It was the type of symbiotic relationship, where their care for each other was implied, but very deep.

Does this also sound familiar... perhaps, in relation to Dazai's friendship with Odasaku?

Side note: Oda and Atsushi have the same enneagrams, which is Type 2, 'The Helper.'

There is a sort of balance that is brought about by two opposites. Odasaku taught Dazai many things, and I believe Oda learned a lot about a man's life from the way Dazai lived out his life with the innate desire to die. Atsushi sought for the right to live, while Dazai searched for a reason to live; in addition, Dazai validated Atsushi's feelings, and Atsushi was able to acknowlegde the amount of pain Dazai was going through.

Despite how Dazai's perspectives and beliefs stood in contrast with those of Oda's and Atsushi's, a type of inseparable bond connected the man who no longer felt like he was human, to the people who was the most human.

No Longer Human in the Japanese romaji is 'Ningen Shikkaku.' Ningen means "human," and Shikkaku means "disqualified." The late author, Dazai Osamu, wrote the book No Longer Human. He had gone through the rough throes of trauma and wrote this book as a semi-autobiography, whose plot was centred around a man who faked happiness, for he was tainted by the truth that everyone around him was fake themselves. He turned his life into a joke in order to protect himself from the delusions of this world.

This brings us back to the melancholic temperament, where a person was too deeply immersed in the sad truths of reality and the world itself.

And that's what Dazai's character and ability is based on: being disqualified as a human being, because he wasn't well-versed with what being human was actually like. The fabrications of being human sprung up all around him, but he wasn't willing to be fooled by how ingenuine the world truly was.

“I am convinced that human life is filled with many pure, happy, serene examples of insincerity, truly splendid of their kind—of people deceiving one another without (strangely enough) any wounds being inflicted, of people who seem unaware even that they are deceiving one another.”

- excerpt from Dazai Osamu's No Longer Human.

People who don't feel human emotions or don't react to circumstances the way humans do have a variety of ways of explaining how they feel inhuman. They are highly intelligent, which separates them from the average class of humankind, since they've analysed and untangled the truths of life in order to attain understanding, which they value above all else. But, this understanding of the world and its painful truths results in a deep kind of sorrow, which only a few people can seem to empathise with in order to help them out with that burden.

“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.”

-excerpt from Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment.

Don't you think that this deep sorrow that lies in the heart of the intelligent, makes them the most human of all? They're too human, to the point where they don't feel human. Perhaps, it is a type of defence mechanism, where the mind numbs the heart from feeling normal human emotion, because logically breaking down such concepts is easier than feeling them. But it comes at a price. The heart is willing to recklessly comprehend and fathom any sort of emotion, including pain in its true form, but the mind bears more pain in understanding such concepts because it seeks to decipher every single agonising detail of how complex human emotions are. The mind thinks, the heart feels. There is a clear distinguishing factor between the two. Whether feeling hurts more than thinking, or thinking hurts more than feeling, or whether both these processes work hand-in-hand to make up the reality of life itself, is up for an individual to decide.

Only a few people can seem to empathise with intelligent people who are deeply sad at heart, in order to help them out. As for Dazai, it was Atsushi and Oda. They never took away the pain, but they made him grow from it; it worked vice versa, too.

Of course, there are less tedious and more appealing aspects to the concept of Dazai's intelligence. Dazai was seen as a threat to his enemies because of how manipulation and his keen skill of deduction made up how sharp his mind was. Besides, no one could commit '138 murders, 312 cases of extortion, and 625 cases of fraud, along with various and sundry other crimes,' without having a certain level of intelligence, right?

Dazai had the moral alignment of 'chaotic neutral.' He was more focused on using his intellect to achieve the desired end results of a predicament, and he wasn't afraid to use the wrong means. A famous example was when he deflated the airbags of Ango Sakaguchi's car in order to gain the assured protection of Kyouka Izumi.

Justice is a weapon. It can be used to cause harm, but it cannot protect or save others.

Another example was when he blew up Chuuya Nakahara's car.

Just kidding. That was just a simple pastime (；・∀ ・)

His moral alignment points to what Oda said about him: the part where he mentioned that Dazai didn't really see any difference between good and evil. As long as his ends were achieved, especially if it were in the benefit of his fellow colleagues, he wasn't afraid to exploit, threaten, or endanger others' wellbeing. Because, at the end of the day, the end result triumphed the morally bad methods utilised to achieve it, correct? He always had a reason for his motives and actions, even if those actions were evil and inexcusable.

(eg. action: the psychological abuse he bestowed upon Akutagawa Ryunosuke.

motive: to enable him to hone his own ability favourably and to curb his arrogance)

But the consequences of one's actions will always catch up with a person, no matter what heights they've achieved.

Okay, we're reaching the end of my rambling very soon, I promise.

“If I had to go, I’d like to go out just as beautifully.”

“I’d prefer you don’t go.”

This part of the post is highly inspired by iwachuwu!!

An important factor of Dazai's development is highlighted BSD Wan's episode 10:

I'd like to appreciate that this scene focuses on how much Dazai actually means to Atsushi. When Atsushi responds with "I'd prefer you don't go," he said it lightheartedly for he thought Dazai was joking. But he wasn't. And once Atsushi absorbed the fact that Dazai meant what he said, he was overwhelmed with anguish at the thought of ever losing Dazai. Dazai, on the other hand, had a sense of longing on his expression. There was that look of pure desperation on his face. He was so desperate, yet he knew he couldn't act on his desperation due to a promise he'd made to someone dear to him. But keep in mind, Dazai is unpredictable, so we can never be sure of what's going on in that headspace of his.

Nevertheless, this time, Atsushi recognised Dazai's suffering, as no one usually cared to do, and Dazai didn't put in any effort to hide how he truly felt, as he habitually did. And this mutual emotional connection happened countless times during all the times Oda spent with Dazai as well.

To summarise,

Dazai's character had been carefully wired and patterned out in a way only a few would put in the effort to understand. Dazai was more than just suicidal; he was a being wandering from place to place with no specific aim. He was too smart for his own good. Dazai understood too well of how the world worked and deemed it void of any sort of hope.

Side note: Yes, the truth does come at a price, but it all comes down to how a person understands the truth. As for Dazai (both character and the author he was based off upon), well, it was quite tragic. But that's the way it is for some people, I suppose. But everyone has a different path to travel on, remember that.

His transition from working with the Port Mafia to the Armed Detective Agency was proof of how well-executed his character development was. It was two different personas morphed into what he is today: a womaniser with questionable morals a person who is still standing even after the rough refining process endowed upon him by the realities of this life.

However, he had people along the way come and teach him a thing or two, which perhaps made his life a little more interesting. Perhaps these people were passing clouds that hid the void out of sight for just a moment, and Dazai was always seen to be grasping on to these moments, and letting them go whenever it was time to let go.

His outlook on life makes his intellect look all the more intriguing. It shows that not only does his intelligence contribute to his own wit and shrewdness, but also the practical sense of realism that explains how tired he is of the concept of living because of the truths there are to bear.

However he's enduring the pain right now is by far the most bravest thing a person could commit themselves to doing. It takes courage, and it takes strength, but only a few would ever take the time to recognise such efforts.

Dazai has one of the most beautiful character developments, but I do hope that the development doesn't reach its end anytime soon.

fanart credits: @S7dOZPN3jWBB6cW on twitter

“Now I have neither happiness nor unhappiness.

Everything passes.

That is the one and only thing that I have thought resembled a truth in the society of human beings where I have dwelled up to now as in a burning hell.

Everything passes.”

excerpt from Dazai Osamu's No Longer Human.

#bsd #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs wan #bsd wan #bsd dazai osamu #bsd characters #literature analysis #literature #dazai osamu #bsd odasaku #bsd atsushi #bsd analysis #bsd atsushi nakajima #.ryley.speaks

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todorokibois · 3 years

Text

{1} - Spring Day

Reincarnation AU - Part of the Spring Day Series

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Possible Smut (In later chapters)

Pairing: Itadori Yuuji X Reader X Ryomen Sukuna

Words: 5,059

A/n: I just recently got into Jujutsu Kaisen but I love it so much already! Ever since I watched episode four and five this little idea has been running around in my mind, and I've seen a few others do an au like this so I decided I'd give it a shot. I’m still learning all the rules and stuff of the world, so please bear with me. Some of the characters may be ooc for the time being, as well as for plot purposes. I hope you enjoy what I have planned, and please do let me know what you think of this. Feedback is always greatly appreciated!

Summary: Being Yuuji’s best friend? Piece of cake. However, you never expected to be the reincarnation of Sukuna’s former lover. - You promised each other forever, but forever came.

Note: The characters are all aged up for this fic, so now they will be in university.

You can still remember the first day you met Itadori Yuuji like it was yesterday. Nothing really eventful happened on that day, but you know that it’s one you’ll never forget, for he’s your best friend and you are his. In fact, having just entered middle school at the time, he was one of the first friends you ever made at your new school.

He seemed impressed by how unafraid you were of the supernatural, the two of you spouting ghost stories to one another during lunch every day. Each day was a competition to see who could freak the other one out the most with an even gorier horror story every lunch period. So far, your record is thirty to twenty-nine in your favour, with more ties than you can count.

Soon enough, middle school came and went, and then the two of you found out that you were to go to the same high school. Both of you were excited that you would know at least one person, not to mention that that person is your best friend. At least you wouldn’t have to give up your daily routine with him. Needless to say, it came as quite a shock to Yuuji when you stopped coming to school about halfway through your first year.

Even though the two of you continued to text every day since your transfer, things never felt the same to either of you. Every time Yuuji asked what school you transferred to, you’d brush off the question, or give him a fake school name. He knows they’re fake since the one time he wanted to surprise you after school one day by visiting you, but when he went inside and checked the registry, your name wasn’t even close to being listed there.

That was a small rough patch in your relationship. Yuuji was hurt that you would lie to him like that, and it took about a week before you could cheer him up again. He just had to see you in person, that was the only way he would stop moping about. That, and he jokingly said it would be the only way he’d forgive you.

Again, as the two of you were walking around the shopping district, he asked you which high school you transferred to. Well, you couldn’t exactly tell him you transferred to a school that teaches you how to become a jujutsu sorcerer, now could you? So, you gave a vague description of the place, stating that you honestly always forget the name, but it’s hidden somewhere in the mountains surrounding Tokyo. Regardless, he made you promise that he could come visit at some point.

Every day, you miss him, just as he misses you, and every day you wish you could see more of him. Despite the amount of trips you plan together, nothing can replace no longer seeing each other every day. Oh well, at least you still keep in touch.

Yuuji never told you, but it was pure agony for him when you left without a clue as to where you’d gone. The fact that you couldn’t answer him for a few days made him go crazy. When he finally got an answer, it felt as if the world had finally started moving again, because to him, you are his entire world.

He doesn’t exactly know when his platonic feelings towards you turned more romantic, but he knows that they’ve never gone away, no matter how many years have passed. Perhaps it was that time in your second year of middle school when you tricked him into playing shogi with you, a game you had convinced him he could beat you at, only to be severely disappointed. How was he to know you were the best in the year when you had never mentioned it before that day? Or perhaps it was that one day during the summer break before the start of high school when the two of you were running through the park, laughing at each other as the sunlight reflected off of your hair, lighting up your eyes in a way he’d never seen before. Either way, he knows he’s been in love with you for a long time now, and he’d never do anything to jeopardize your friendship. He just hopes that someday, his feelings are returned.

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t get to spend as much time with Yuuji over the break as you wanted to, what with your duties and all. However, you’re hoping you’ll be able to soon. You wanted to see him one last time before he started university, but unfortunately you couldn’t. Weeks passed, and you finally made plans to visit him a few months into the semester, but you had to cancel due to a last minute mission you got thrown on. Little did you know what would happen that night.

Earlier that evening, you had gotten a voicemail from Yuuji, informing you that his grandfather had died. You managed to take a detour long enough to call him back, making sure that he’s okay and letting him know that you’re sorry for his loss. His grandfather was the closest family he had left, so you know that as soon as you’re done with this mission, you’re going to see him. He told you he was fine, but you want to make sure. After all, you know how he can get.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you focus in on the task at hand. Clearing this abandoned building will be easy for you, nothing you haven’t done before. All there are are two level two curses to take care of, piece of cake. You only wish it was located closer to where Yuuji is, that way you could get to him sooner.

It took a few years, but you managed to quickly work your way up to a grade one sorcerer. You’re a very quick learner, and the fact that you already had strong reflexes thanks to always competing with Yuuji helped a great deal. You’re only surprised your mother kept her family secret for so long. However, you’re grateful for how long she kept it secret, because if she had revealed it sooner, you might not have met Yuuji, and you don’t know where you’d be today without him in your life.

With a sigh, you enter the building. Shifting your gaze around, you begin to hunt the curses currently within the vicinity. It doesn’t take you long to find the first one, quickly disposing of it before it even has the chance to retaliate. Locating the second takes a little bit longer than anticipated, but eventually you find it, preparing yourself to take this one down just as you did the first.

“Man, you really are one ugly thing, aren’t you?” You tut, shaking your head.

The curse in question did not seem to like your words, letting out a screech and lunging for you in the next moment. Quickly dodging, you parry the curse’s attack, managing to sever one of its many limbs before jumping back and keeping a bit of distance between the two of you. You’re just about to jump in for another attack when you falter, a sudden wave of specialized curse energy pulsing throughout your entire body.

Taking advantage of your momentary loss of composure, the curse lunges at you. You just manage to block the blunt of the attack, still getting a small scrape on your cheek in the process. You curse.

Another two minutes pass by and you’re finally able to dispose of the second level two. Immediately, the air in the building seems lighter, and you know you’ve cleared all the required curses and purified the space. Breathing a sigh of relief you head towards the exit, ready to be clear of this building once and for all.

As soon as you step outside, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, signalling that you’re getting a call. Thinking it to be Yuuji, you don’t even bother checking the caller id before answering right away.

“Hello?” You say, just as you hear the door fall shut behind you.

“(Y/n)! So glad you answered on the first ring,” the voice of your personal teacher and trainer, Gojo Satoru answers in a chipper voice. “Listen, I have some news for you.”

“Listen, teach, if you’re just gonna tell me about the mochi you bought today-“

“Ryomen Sukuna has been released,” he cuts you off, and you can only freeze in your tracks as your breath hitches in your throat. “We currently have control of his vessel.”

“What happened?” You ask, steadying yourself with your back against the side of the building you’ve just exited.

“Ah, nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about,” Gojo assures you. “We had it under control.”

“We?” Your brow quirks slightly even though he can’t see it.

“Yeah, Fushiguro and I,” he replies. “Well, it was mainly me, but who’s keeping score?” You can faintly hear grumbling in the background and then a chuckle from Gojo. “Anyways, best return to campus as soon as possible.”

“I can’t,” comes your immediate response.

There’s silence for a moment until, “and why’s that?”

“I have to go visit Yuuji,” you bring a hand up to rub at your temples. This conversation is giving you a headache.

“You mentioned he lives near Sendai, correct?” Gojo inquires.

“That’s correct,” you confirm, “why?”

“The incident was near there, so you can’t come, it’s not safe for you,” he explains.

You scoff, “since when have you ever been concerned for my safety?”

“I’m offended,” he feigns hurt. “As your teacher, I’m always concerned for your safety.”

“Bullshit,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “Anyways, that’s all the more reason I should go and see him. Now I have two reasons to make sure he’s okay.”

You hear a deep sigh on the other end before Gojo is speaking once more, “listen, (Y/n), you know I’m not usually one to be a stickler for rules and such, and I hate enforcing things, but I’m going to need you to get back to campus and wait in your dorm until I come get you.”

“But-“

“That’s an order,” his voice is firm, and you know that there’s no arguing with him once he’s made up his mind.

“Fine,” you sigh, pushing yourself off of the wall in order to head to the train station. “Will you at least tell me the name of Sukuna’s vessel?”

“All in due time,” he says, sounding too cheerful for the current events which have just taken place this evening. “See you back at the academy!”

Without another word, the line goes dead and you know he’s ended the call to avoid answering any more of your questions.

Letting out another sigh, you tuck your phone away in your pocket. You sent a quick text to Yuuji beforehand, just explaining that something came up and you’re still thinking of him during this time. You hope you can see him soon.

The ride back to campus is spent thinking about the effects of Sukuna now being released. You know the elders will probably fight to execute whoever the poor idiot is that ingested his finger. Knowing Gojo, he’d fight against whatever the elders decide to do. You’re just hoping that whoever the idiot is that turned out to be Sukuna’s vessel is strong enough to both contain and control him.

Making it back to campus, you immediately head to your room, just as Gojo had instructed you to do. Figuring you have enough time before he comes calling, you take a quick shower, washing off the dirt and grime from the events of this evening. Once done, you change into some comfortable clothes and lay down on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you wait for Gojo to appear.

It’s not until noon the next day when Gojo finally shows up at your door.

“Took you long enough, I’m starving,” you grumble, noticing he’s carrying what looks like two prepackaged lunches in his hands.

“You could have gone out for food, you know,” he chuckles, already moving to sit down in your desk chair.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was told to ‘wait in my room and await further instructions,’” you cross your arms, allowing your door to fall shut as you return to sitting on your bed.

“Details, details,” he waves you off as you grab one of the lunches he hands you. “Anyways, I came to update my favourite student about what’s going on.”

You simply quirk a brow at him as you open your lunch, waiting for him to continue.

“Well, for starters I’ve delayed the inevitable,” he begins, to which you only give him a look. He goes on to explain that the vessel will most likely be joining the other first years in training to become a sorcerer until the proper time comes. “I’ve basically convinced the elders to allow the vessel to consume all of Sukuna’s fingers before being executed.”

“Okay, and?” You stare at him expectantly.

“Please, do hold your applause,” he grins, expression only faltering slightly when you continue to remain silent after a few moments. “Geez, tough crowd. Anyways, I thought you’d be more happy about this.”

“I only feel bad for the poor idiot who got involved in all of this,” you sigh, continuing to place food in your mouth while chewing thoughtfully.

“Oh, he’s an idiot alright,” Gojo chuckles.

“And who exactly is he?” You tilt your head slightly, looking at him expectantly.

Gojo lets out a deliberate yawn while standing up, stretching his arms above his head, “would you look at that? I’m late for a meeting with the principle. Toodles!”

Without another word, he vanishes from your room, only leaving you just as frustrated with him as you were before, with many more unanswered questions building in your mind. It’s just like him to do this to you, too. Always keeping information this important from you until you’re thrust upon a situation where you’re forced to confront the facts of the matter. You just hope that this is another one of his stupid training exercises and not him purposely avoiding telling you straight up who the vessel is. You also hope whoever the vessel is, is someone you don’t know since it’ll probably make it easier when the time comes. Still, knowing Gojo, he probably will come up with a plan to save the poor soul set for execution even after everything is said and done. If the poor boy even lives that long.

Finishing up your lunch, you decide to head towards the principle’s office. You are technically considered a first year in the university courses, so maybe you’ll have a chance to sneak a look at the vessel if you’re lucky. Besides, Gojo did mention something about Fushiguro and you meeting up with the other new first year tomorrow, so you want intel on what’s happening in regards to that.

Just as you raise your hand to knock on the principle’s door Gojo opens it as if he was expecting you. You attempt to sneak a glance past him but to no avail, only causing him to chuckle as he steps into the hallway and shuts the door behind him.

“How can I help you, my dear student?” He smiles, leaning against the now closed door.

“When are we meeting the new girl, and is the vessel accompanying us?” Your questions are direct and straight to the point.

“Ah, yes, Nobara,” Gojo nods. “Unfortunately, you won’t be accompanying us guys to meet up with her tomorrow, you have another mission to attend to.”

“Since when?” You scoff.

“Since now,” he singsongs. “Level one curse spotted at an old primary school. I would take care of it myself, but as you know, I care deeply about every single one of my students so I must be there to meet Nobara on her first day! Besides, you’re the only one I trust to do this assignment right now.”

Any protests you had soon die in your throat at his last statement. Though still ticked off you won’t get to go with them, you understand why he’s chosen you. Besides, this is your job, and you know it will help with your training.

“Fine,” you grumble, “but I still want to meet the new kids.”

“All in due time,” he waves you off with the same words he told you last night. “Now you better get planning before that curse gets too out of hand! I’ll text you the details!”

“Yeah, yeah,” this time it’s your turn to wave him off as you turn around and start walking back to your dorm to grab your stuff, muttering under your breath, “you old croon.”

The offended gasp you hear behind you is enough to drown out the sound of the principle’s door opening once more, two people stepping out to join Gojo in the hallway.

“Who’s that?” Itadori asks Gojo as they watch your retreating form disappear behind a corner.

“One of my best students,” Gojo hums proudly in response.

“Funny, she looks just like my best friend-“

“C’mon, I’ll show you to your dorm!” Gojo cuts him off before he can finish his sentence, leading him down the hallway in the opposite direction to which you disappeared in, Itadori not being able to do much else but follow close behind.

Sure enough, about twenty minutes later Gojo sends you a text with all the details you’ll need to exercise the curse tomorrow at the primary school. You plan to leave early in the morning since it’ll take you at least an hour or two to get to the location, and then another hour or two to get back. You also want to see if you can catch the guys before they leave, see if you can introduce yourself to one of the two newbies at least.

Unfortunately for you, it doesn’t seem like the luck of coincidence is on your side in the morning as you prepare to leave campus. Letting out a small sigh, you make your way to the train station, ready to begin your mission for the day and get it over with as soon as you can. Perhaps you can time things just right so that you get back to campus around the same time that they do. After all, this task should be a walk in the park.

Oh, how wrong you are.

Not only did it take you three hours to arrive to the primary school, but the curse, which was supposed to be one level one turned out to be two level one curses sharing the vicinity. They cornered you and you ended up getting thrown harshly against the wall, causing your whole body to ache all over once you finally managed to exercise the curses. You’re pretty sure you pulled a few muscles in the process, too, and the amount of scrapes and bruises you acquired since the other day has tripled. Damn Gojo.

Limping back to the train station, you check your phone. Speaking of your personal trainer, he’s been keeping you up to date with the newbies all throughout the day, though he keeps referring to the boy as ‘the vessel’. Furrowing your brow, you find it strange how he hasn’t told you the boy’s name yet, only making you believe that it probably is someone you know. There’s still a tiny sliver of you that’s hoping Gojo is just testing your deduction skills, but at this point, that’s probably not the case.

Sitting down in the first free seat you find, you text him back. Almost immediately you get a response, letting you know that the two newbies have just passed their first test and that you should be proud of your fellow students. You play along with his enthusiasm for the time being, being obviously sarcastic in your responses, but Gojo doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, it seems as if he’s amused by your reactions, only serving to irritate you further.

By the time you get back to campus, you’re drained. All you want to do is take a nice, warm shower, curl up in a ball on your bed and sleep. You don’t even care if you miss meeting the new students. That’s how your day is going so far. Besides, it’s getting late and they don’t seem to be back yet. There’s always tomorrow.

Except, you don’t get to meet them the next day, nor the day after that. It takes a full week before you even cross paths with Nobara, and even still, the meeting seems rushed. Luckily, you manage to properly introduce yourself to her the day after that one, but for some reason, Sukuna’s vessel just keeps eluding you. That, or someone is purposely keeping the two of you apart. It’s not until two weeks after that fateful day has passed that you finally get your answer.

The three first years have been tasked with handling a few curses at a juvenile detention centre while you accompany Gojo on one of his missions at the same time. You’re getting real tired of his antics, every time you ask him about the boy who’s Sukuna’s vessel he answers you either cryptically, or changes the subject. The worst is when he ignores your inquiries all together. You’re hoping to get some information out of him this evening though, otherwise you might just sneak over to ‘see’ Megumi one day and actually go to see his neighbour who just so happens to be the vessel.

Another reason why you’re in a bit of a grumpy mood recently is that Yuuji seems to be distancing himself from you. Your conversations are very dry as of late, and he doesn’t seem to want to tell you what’s going on in his life. There’s even been a few day where you’ve tried to sneak away to go visit him, but each time, Gojo has stopped you in some way or other. You’re convinced he’s hiding something, but you don’t want to accept the reality he’s been presenting to you as of late.

“(Y/n), I need you to focus,” Gojo snaps his fingers in front of your face, successfully startling you back to reality.

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” you blink a few times to clear your head, needing to focus since this is a serious task for the both of you.

“Everything okay?” He asks, the two of you now continuing to move through the labyrinth laid out before you, having yet to stumble upon any one of the four special grade curses you’re supposed to be exercising.

“Just fine,” you sigh before muttering out, “it’s not like I’m going to get answers anyways.”

“Now, now, you don’t know that for sure,” he grins, hands in his pockets as he walks beside you nonchalantly.

“Considering every time I bring up the new guy you avoid the topic, I’d say, yeah,” you peek around the corner before confirming the hallway is clear, turning back to face Gojo who already seems to be looking at you amusedly, “I do know.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet,” he hums.

“There’s not much to go on,” you reply.

“Oh, I believe there’s plenty,”

“Yeah, well, that’s cause you already know everything there is to know about this subject,” you huff.

“Oh, you flatter me so,” he chuckles, only causing you to roll your eyes at him in exasperation.

“Well, I suppose there is one question I have for you, teach,” you start to say, until you finally come across one of the special grade curses.

The two of you quickly press your backs against the wall, preparing to attack. Gojo gives you the go ahead to attack first, and you do, using his quick distraction of walking out and gaining the curse’s attention to sneak up on it and destroy it. No more than two minutes pass and you’ve succeeded.

“What’s the question?” Gojo calls your attention back to him as you both continue on through the hallway.

“On the day he was released, I felt a sudden wave of specialized curse energy ripple through me, almost as if there had been a part of it dormant that had suddenly been awoken,” you say, turning to look at his face in order to gage his reaction. “Is that normal, considering how far I was from the main site?”

“Hmm,” he brings a hand up to cup his chin in his fingers, contemplating the new information you’ve provided him. He only wishes you would have told him sooner. “Considering the distance and Sukuna’s total power, it’s not that surprising.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. “However, since at the time it was only one-twentieth of his power over that great of a distance, that is very odd. Considering that you know our reputation with strangeness in this trade, this makes it even stranger. Has it happened at any other point in time after that?”

Your brow furrows as you contemplate his question. “Actually, yeah, now that I think about it. I think it was a day or two after the initial release.”

“Huh, interesting,” he hums once more, a slight frown pulling at his lips as he considers what this means. Looks like his original hunch was correct as both these surges you’ve felt correspond with Itadori ingesting one of Sukuna’s fingers.

“What, exactly, is interesting?” You stare at him expectantly.

“Nothing you need to worry yourself with for the time being,” he assures you, just as another one of the special grade curses jumps out at the two of you. In an instant, Gojo has eliminated the threat, neither of you faltering in your steps down the hall.

“You know, sometimes I swear you take the phrase ‘having blind faith’ too seriously,” you let out a long breath.

He laughs at this, “what makes you say that?”

You just raise a brow at him in response, the look on your face enough to convey your thoughts. He laughs once more.

“Nothing wrong with having a little faith in me, you know,” he jokes as you two near the centre of the building where you can feel major curse energy pouring out.

You say nothing, opting to shake your head at him in response as you ready yourselves to enter the main room. Slowly opening the doors, you walk in, the two of you scanning the room for either of the final two curses that have still yet to show themselves.

All is silent for a few moments until you feel a pang reverberate through you, the familiar feeling of specialized curse energy flowing throughout your whole being. Your eyes widen as this one far exceeded the power of the first two.

“Hey, uh, teach?” Gojo pauses mid-step as he observes you, hearing the uncertainty in your voice. “It just happened again.”

As soon as those words leave your lips, the final two curses you’ve been hunting for pop out of nowhere and attack the both of you. The one closest to you manages to knock you into Gojo, him steadying you as the two curses near the both of you to attack.

“(Y/n), I’m sending you to where the first years are, I have a bad feeling something terrible has happened,” he says lowly in your ear.

“What? Right now?” You don’t even have time to look at him incredulously as you both jump in opposite directions to avoid the attacks of the curses.

“Right now,” he confirms. “Don’t worry about me, I can handle these two clowns.”

The curses growl at him as he says those words, with him managing to split one of them in half in the next moment.

“I wasn’t,” you reply, unamused.

“Well, best hurry, wouldn’t want Sukuna wrecking havoc,” he grins at you and something clicks in your mind.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you growl. “At least tell me the name of his vessel!”

“You already know it,” is the last thing you hear before your vision shifts, you now standing on a path outside in an unfamiliar area.

You mentally curse him as you collect your bearings, noticing Megumi standing across from you, facing towards you as another man stands between the two of you with his back turned to you. You’d recognize that back anywhere, not to mention the hair. Now you’re really mentally cursing your teacher.

You remain still, noticing how Megumi darts his gaze over to you as if to tell you not to move. Assessing the situation, you begin to plot your best course of action as you see drops of blood dripping onto the ground near Sukuna’s feet. A quick scope of the area has your eyes widening slightly, telling yourself to remain calm as you see a heart laying in the grass as if it was tossed carelessly off to the side.

Of course, Sukuna felt your presence before even bothering to turn to look at you. At the moment, he’s more focused on talking to Megumi, then he can deal with this newer secondary presence, no matter how familiar it seems. He can feel the eyes trailing over his back before he even sees them, but your voice has him halting his actions momentarily.

“Damn, Yuuji, I leave you alone for two weeks and you decide to get tattoos?” Your voice is light, playful even, despite the grim situation you know that you’ve been thrust into.

Megumi shoots you a cautious look as you both notice Sukuna tense slightly between the two of you, before standing up straighter and rolling his shoulders once. A chuckle escapes him, causing you and Megumi to share another concerned look between you both before his movements catch your eyes.

Sukuna would recognize that voice anywhere. Oh, how cruel fate can be.

Turning deliberately slow, he faces towards you, eyes roaming over your figure and nearly sending a shiver down your spine until they come to lock with yours. With a smirk on his features, he licks his lips, “(Y/n).”

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Loved 8

Danny found himself without human senses or even a rough analogue of a human body. Even so, he still had an understanding of his surroundings, alien senses leaving impressions on his mind.

His body was soft, boneless, rounded, unformed. He was intimately connected to, part of, and entirely surrounded by an infinitely greater being, whom he was dependent on. He was known, all of him, by this being.

If he’d had eyes to cry with, he would have, knowing that he would never be able to know this being as he himself was known.

Amusement and affection – or, at least, things that were like them – pressed into him as the being contracted around him. An object was inserted into the single orifice he currently possessed.

Slowly, Danny became aware of an intense… discomfort in that area. He couldn’t call it pain. He currently had no sense of pain. But he could feel it and he didn’t like it and it was growing—

He woke up, tangled in blankets, skin slick with sweat, head and teeth aching.

Except, he didn’t. He was in the Dream. But if he were in the Dream, what had that been?

Already, many of the details were slipping through his fingers. He could no longer recapture what he had felt, although the general events were still somewhat clear.

He… had sleeping here somehow peeled back the layers of metaphor through which he experienced the Dream? Or had that just been a different metaphor, no truer than this one?

He sat up – or, rather, he tried to. An unexpected weight around neck stalled him. Overnight, the chain of Clockwork’s Love for him (and his Love for Clockwork in return) had more than doubled in size. It had also been reinforced by thick, colorful, silk ropes wound in and out of the links as well as other, smaller, chains.

There were also two of them, now, leading in opposite directions. As if Clockwork’s Love was simply too great to be confined to a single representation.

More carefully this time, Danny sat up. At least the collar, despite being far, far heavier, was no longer configured like a neck brace. Danny could turn his head to look at things.

The dog, evidently sensing an opportunity, deposited itself in Danny’s lap. Danny, not knowing what else to do, started petting it, running fingers through shadowy fur. He had always wanted a dog. Although, he didn’t remember telling Clockwork that…

“Maybe I should name you,” said Danny. He wasn’t sure how he felt about naming a personification of his hate, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what the dog was, or if the dog was just a container for his hate. It was confusing. “How about Cujo?”

The dog wagged its tail agreeably.

“Cujo it is, then.” He sighed and looked around the room. It didn’t have a door or any other visible opening. Honestly, in comparison to everything else he’d experienced in the Dream, that was pretty pedestrian. He supposed he’d just have to wait until Clockwork came back.

Maybe he could take a look at some of those interesting objects along the wall in the meantime? Something in his mind whispered that they were his and they were toys. They could take his mind off the pain building in his jaw and temples.

He stood up and walked almost all the way to the edge of the depression in the floor before being brought up short. He stumbled and sat down abruptly. What-?

The end of the chain was buried in the floor at the center of the depression.

Oh. Well. This whole room was part of Clockwork, too, so Danny really shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t like the chain hadn’t acted like a chain before.

Still.

Being forcibly trapped in, well, a crib was infantilizing. Not that everything else about all of this wasn’t. This just seemed like a step further.

The collar hummed lightly against Danny’s throat, eliciting a croon as he reflexively attempted to harmonize. The act settled him somewhat, and he gazed blankly at the runes surrounding the depression. The drop between the depression and the rest of the floor was too high for him to get over by himself anyway… no, that wasn’t right… couldn’t be… he couldn’t see the runes if that was the case, he’d be too short… but the lip there was definitely too tall, he knew it…

He tore his eyes away, squeezing them shut against his suddenly raging headache. The dog, Cujo, padded over to him and sniffed him gently. Danny whined, trying not to cry.

It looks like your horns might be growing in as well, said Clockwork’s avatar, running a hand through Danny’s hair. Poor baby. Teeth and horns all at once. That must hurt.

“Horns? Like Nocturne?”

Yes. They will help you navigate the other layers of the Dream once they are fully grown. With practice.

Danny let Clockwork’s avatar lift his head, resting his chin in its palm. “Layers of the Dream?”

You did not think the Dream was as simple in structure as that place you call reality, did you, little Love? This place you have become familiar with is only the closest layer to that place, no matter how deep you go.

“But—” said Danny, trying to work out how that could be. The answer slotted itself neatly into Danny’s mind. “It’s… like a tesseract?”

More than that, but essentially, yes. The avatar was gathering blankets around Danny again, swaddling him. Danny squeaked and tried to twist away, but the avatar easily anticipated him, and the fight quickly went out of him.

Danny was carried from the room and brought to a long table covered in bowls. The bowls contained pastel orbs of various sizes and colors. A single piece of furniture shaped like a basket woven of silver strips sat next to it. Clockwork’s avatar set him down gently on this piece of furniture and several of the strips peeled off to wrap securely around Danny.

Time for breakfast, said the avatar, happily.

Mentally and emotionally, it was easier to eat the orbs than the obviously alive things of his previous meal. Physically…

Danny asked why the orbs were so tough and difficult to chew. The avatar murmured something about practicing using his teeth. Danny wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse, so he was filled to satiation and beyond, until every piece of food on the table had been eaten.

By the time Clockwork’s avatar lifted him again, he felt exhausted and disgusting.

“Can I go home now?” he asked.

You are home.

“You know what I mean.”

It would be remiss of me to let you go when you are still in so much pain. Besides, sleep is necessary for children such as yourself to properly digest food.

“Don’t want to sleep,” said Danny, alarmed. He didn’t want to go back to the place he was before, where he could not see, hear, smell, taste, or touch.

That is not the only place you may go, said the avatar. In fact, it is rather unlikely for you to return there unless you do so on purpose. It touched the place where one of Danny’s horns would eventually bud. It was tender and Danny whined. Which is not something you can yet do. It paused. Perhaps I could guide you to a… cozy layer. One you might find educational. Would you like that?

“I wanna go home. I feel icky.”

I will set up a bath for you when you wake up.

Danny moaned and tried to tuck his face into the avatar’s shoulder. “Don’t want a bath.”

You do need one eventually.

“Don’t wanna.”

The avatar lowered Danny back into the nest of blankets.

Sleep well.

Danny woke up. This time in an actual crib. A mobile with star shapes hung overhead. He reached up with a chubby baby hand. A medical bracelet jingled around his wrist.

With some difficulty, his hands lacking dexterity, he turned the bracelet over. The writing there was incomprehensible and made him slightly dizzy. He huffed and rolled over before pushing himself up onto hands and knees.

The room he was in was dark, and far more defined than he was used to in the Dream. He could see picture frames on the walls and clocks. Every wall had at least one clock.

He grabbed the top of the crib railing and pulled himself up into a standing position. The rest of the room looked normal. Lived in.

The door opened, letting light in. A figure walked through the doorway and picked Danny up.

“You’re awake already! Ready for the day?”

“Clockwork?” squeaked Danny.

“Hmm, yes. But there’s something else you can call me here, hm?” The figure shifted, light falling on a feminine face and long hair.

“Mama?” tried Danny.

“There we go,” she said.

“Where are we?” asked Danny, lisping his words slightly. He wasn’t sure he had teeth right now. He put his hand in his mouth, feeling his gums. “’s different here.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork, walking out into a hallway. It was bright. There were clocks here, too, evenly spaced on the walls. Danny hid his face. “Oopsie daisy. Too bright, baby?”

“Mhm,” said Danny.

Clockwork balanced Danny on her hip and fiddled with a dimmer switch. The lights dimmed to a more comfortable level. “I’m sorry, baby. I keep forgetting about your eyes.”

“What about my eyes?”

“You’re photosensitive. That’s what the bracelet is for. You need low light.”

“Mama?”

“Hm?”

“What is this place?”

“Ah,” said Clockwork, putting him in a highchair. “A world within the Dream. Once,” she punctuated the word by clipping Danny into the seat, “it was much like the place you were first born. But we came to understand it completely and everything that thought or dreamed opened themselves to us. We engulfed it, brought it here. Now everyone is happy.”

Clockwork put a sippy cup on the little table on the highchair and then several pieces of cereal. Danny didn’t recognize the brand.

“Do I have to?”

“You need energy for today,” said Clockwork.

“But I just ate so much.”

“Not here. Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little bit.” Clockwork sat down in one of the chairs at the dinning room table, brushing her hair over her shoulder. She smiled. “Isn’t this nice?”

Danny shrugged.

“I know you don’t care for the other part of the Dream, that you find it frightening, so… If you like this place, you can stay here. It’s just like the other place. The one you like. Would you like that?”

“My friends are there.”

“I can bring them here. It’ll be difficult, but very possible.”

Danny shook his head. Clockwork sighed.

“Well. Let’s just see how this day goes before you decide. Maybe you’ll like being here so much you’ll never want to leave at all. Give it a chance. Just for one day, okay?”

“Okay,” mumbled Danny.

“And that means eating your breakfast.” She ruffled Danny’s hair. “Okie-dokie?”

“’Kay.”

Clockwork smiled, eyes crinkling. “We’re going to have so much fun today, just see!”

#danny phantom #eldritch abomination au #loved #dannymay 2021 #dannymay 2021 day 23: cozy #dannymay

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vintage-writes · 3 years

Text

Come here, Captain Levi Ackermann x Reader

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Summary: Getting kidnapped by the Scout Regiment was not on today’s agenda. Levi Ackermann being the one to watch you was an unexpected turn of events. However, don’t be fooled, You’re still in charge.

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Oral (M. receiving) Fem!Dom!Reader, Sub!Levi, Corruption Kink (if you squint).

18+ ONLY

A/N: This was originally just supposed to be fun and then I decided to add some spice.

Word Count: 2 070

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The streets of Trost were quickly filling up with people. The crowds were letting loose a series of cheers and shouts, all jeering in excitement for the King’s generosity. His decision to open up the royal food supplies to Trost was like a saving grace to the starving.

Or rather, it’s excellent bribery. The king has been desperately trying to garner support from the lower class. This is most definitely due to the rising conflict within the government. Erwin Smith, Commander of the Scout Regiment, has been placed behind bars and will most definitely be executed. Whether or not that would be today or tomorrow, I’m sure they wouldn’t let me know.

Two days ago You approached the higher ups about the arrest of the Scout Regiment. They were uninterested in what You had to say, fully believing that the anomaly known as Eren Jaeger would be the end of humanity. Their fear is driving them forward and the Scouts were apparently plotting to harbour this secret titan power for themselves. You pointed out that that was ridiculous and was immediately slapped for my ‘insubordination’.

Whatever the case. You’re now patrolling around the Trost district. The watchful eyes of a few of your subordinates are keeping you in check as many apparently believe that you’re a step away from chasing after the scouts and pledging my loyalty. All information regarding the situation has been kept away from you, you feel as though you’re being locked up in a cell despite your freedom to walk down a street.

This is ridiculous. A General shouldn’t be monitored by a bunch of recruits. They’ve even confiscated your gun, leaving you vulnerable with nothing but a knife.

You adjust your jacket, the military police insignia sewn proudly onto the back. The Unicorn, the perfect creature for the biggest joke in the military.

Glancing behind your back, you notice that one of your ‘babysitters’ is currently occupying themselves with a lost child. A young boy was tugging on his pants while he awkwardly tried to pull him off.

Perfect.

You duck behind the nearest corner and dart into the alleyway. Your boots thudding gently on the pavement. The thrill of finally dodging the watchdogs was like a fresh breath of air. And then.

“Don’t move”

Of course you would run into the only dumbass in the world willing to rob an MP. A knife’s sharp edge presses at your throat. The hand that grasps it connects to a young boy with blond hair and sharp eyes. Although, despite the fiery look in his eyes your instincts tell you that he wouldn’t follow through with his threat. He quickly grabs a ball of fabric from his pocket and stuffs it into your mouth. You let out an indignant shout but it’s muffled by the cloth, however before You can grab the brat You hear another voice, this time from behind you.

“Lift up your arms.”

Behind you, a heavy metallic object nudges you slightly forward. A Rifle, no doubt.

You slowly raise your arms as you feel the presence shift forward and grab them. You expect him to tie them together but instead he hesitates. It feels as though he is unsure of himself. Instead he brings your arms behind your back and simply holds them.

Well this is certainly awkward.

“You’re coming with us.”, says the blonde in front of me.

You raise your eyebrows at this. Robbing an MP is certainly a bold move but kidnapping is a whole other ball game. Whoever these guys are, they’ve certainly got guts.

About an hour later You’re sitting in a remote part of Town in a stuffy warehouse. Luckily, you’re gagless as it appears no one here has anything to tie my hands together with. After the long faced asshole with a stupid hair cut tossed me into the corner you pulled out the gag and threw it at him. It smacked his head with a wet thud before rolling away. He let out a high pitched wail before vigorously rubbing at the spot, tossing insults at you like they were going out of fashion.

“Oi, Brat!” shouts a rather familiar voice. “Quiet down.”

In walks Captain Levi of the Survey Corps. The pieces begin to click together as you realize what’s going on. Despite the missing Wings of Freedom sigil on everyone’s back, you can tell that you’re looking at the Scout Regiment or more specifically, the Levi Squad.

Humanity’s strongest soldier is currently staring down at you, completely uninterested. You, on the other hand, are very interested to see him. Despite being a relatively strong soldier and Erwin’s right hand, he’s generally rarely seen around the Capital. His appearance has been described as plain but I disagree. His features are sharp and he’s incredibly lean and muscular. His dark eyes never miss a thing, an air of constant alertness surrounds him. He’s certainly the most attractive man you’ve seen by far.

You shift backwards a bit, your back now resting on the table. Two Glasses sit atop the wooden surface, completely empty. Levi notices the slight movement and turns to the two boys.

“Why isn’t she tied up?” he says, face remaining stoic.

“Because I’m not into rope”, You respond dryly.

He sends you a glare before ordering them away to find something suitable to keep you still. You roll your eyes at this before fixing them on Levi. He leans on the locked door, the only other exit besides a window barely small enough to crawl out of three meters above you. His eyes feigning disinterest but any soldier with a brain can tell that he’s watching very closely.

“So-”, You begin to say.

“Shut up.”

Excuse me?

“I thought I was here to answer questions?” you say instead. Why else would they go through all the trouble of kidnapping you?

His eyes study me and you can see he’s contemplating something.

“I figured Daddy’s little girl might have other uses.”

Ohhhh, You get it now, somehow Levi has figured out that one of the King’s dear advisors is your father. Little does he know, that man will likely rather leave me for dead. You couldn’t be a worse leverage. Although the phrase “Daddy’s little girl” coming from those lips have you smirking up at him. How very kinky, Captain.

“Well you know-”

“Quiet”

Oi. Let me speak.

“Captain”, You say with warning.

“General”, he retorts. His voice is surprisingly rough and low.

Who do you think is in charge here Captain? Despite what it may look like, You don’t think he has as much power in this situation as he thinks he does.

You shift forward preparing to stand up. You’re done being stuck in this stuffy place, you need to escape before everyone else comes back. Levi immediately straightens up in front of you. Despite his size, the amount of danger radiating off of him is immense and you don’t have a weapon on hand. The slow sinking feeling that maybe you’ve underestimated him begins to settle in.

“Sit back down. You’re not leaving.”

Reluctantly, you shift back into place. Maybe escaping right now isn’t the best option.

He begins again, this time his voice drops considerably deeper, "If you move one more time, I swear I’ll choke you until you pass out”

His eyes have turned to slits. Suddenly you feel as though you’ve made some kind of mistake. However, despite his pretty face staring angrily into your soul, you feel incredibly excited.

Leaning your head back, your eyes spot the two glasses sitting on the table. You tip your head to make eye contact with him. You hold his gaze. Warning signs flashing in his eyes as you turn your body to face the table. Eyes still locked on his own. You raise your right hand and sweep it across the table, knocking them onto the floor. The glass shatters instantly upon hitting the ground.

The look of surprise on his face sends your heart racing. Eyes widening as his face flushes red. You turn back to face him

“Alright”, You say.

You tilt your head back, looking down your nose at him. You brush your hair away from your neck and continue to stare intently at him.

“Come here, Captain”

He backs away a step. Excellent, you’ve caught him off guard.

“What’s wrong, Captain?” You taunt, “Are you not going to keep your word?”

He straightens up quickly and presses his lips together.

Good. Let him put his mask back on so You can rip it off again. You quickly straighten up and hop onto your feet. Slowly, step by step, you make your way forward, until you stop right in front of him. His eyes burn into yours.

You lift up one hand and bring it to his chin. He exhales sharply. You bring your lips to his ear. Gently breathing in his sweet musky scent.

“Are you not the one in charge here, Captain? Or have you finally remembered that I outrank you?” You breathe against him before moving your head back. His face has completely reddened.

With the hand still on his chin you gently tilt it upwards and apply pressure, effectively pushing him back into the wall.

“As a General, I don’t particularly like taking orders”, You say moving both hands to his shoulders before beginning an achingly slow descent. “I’d rather be the one giving them. Now stand still and be a good boy.”

Both hands finally reach the top of his pants and with a single finger begin to slowly trace the inside, moving across the inside until you reach his pants button. He jerks his hips towards you. He releases a sharp breath as you begin to unbutton each one before opening them. You run your hands back around to his waist and tug them downwards. They softly thump against the floor. You look into his eyes as you drop to your knees, he still hasn’t said or done anything to stop you. Excitement flares within you. The idea of having humanities strongest wrapped around your finger has heat flooding downwards.

You pull away the last layer of clothing separating you from his dick. His hand flies to the back of your head. Fingers tangling into your hair. You stare up at him. He doesn’t make a move to push you forward or away. The ball remains in your court as he simply stares down at you, licking his lips, breaths short and heavy.

“Levi”, You say gently, breath brushing against his member as he begins to squirm. You smirk, “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

You place a kiss to the inside of his thigh. Another slightly higher, and higher again. His hips buck forward.

“Stop moving”

He stills beneath your hands as you decide to finally grab onto his hardened member, dripping with precum. Slowly but surely, you pump him up and down as he sighs out. you lean forward and place another kiss at the base of his cock. You run your tongue from the base, to the underside and all the way to the top where you twirl your tongue around the head. The grunt that accompanies this action urges you on as you begin to suck deeply.

He Whines out, “Y/N”

You pause and he squirms some more. Hands gripping your hair harder.

“Yes?”

“Please”, he blurts out. “More”

“Do you want to cum?”

He nods vigorously. Good, let Y/N break him. You do your best to relax your throat and breathe deeply through your nose. With a slow push You push forward all the way to the hilt. He Gasps. He’s panting now.

“Please”, he breathes out. Mumbling over and over again. You pull back slightly and let your tongue swirl around the head again. You look up and make eye contact. Mouth hanging open, eyes wound shut. His lips let out moans and whines.

“Oh God!” He lets out before releasing in your mouth. You swallow everything before standing up again. You run your tongue over your lips before looking at him.

Pants pooled around his ankles, eyes glossy, mouth slightly open as his breathing begins to slow. His face is of pure ecstasy.

“So are you willing to listen to me now?” You smile at him gently. “Or do you want to take a minute?”

#aot #levi attack on titan #levi #ackermann #attack on titan #aot fic #levi smut #aot smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #sub!levi #dom!reader #levi ackerman

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stxleslyds · 3 years

Text

MY TOUGHTS ON PART THREE OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY :)

A DC RENDITION OF THE SONG “MOTHER KNOWS BEST” FROM TANGLED.

Here I will leave the links to my reviews of Part 1 and Part 2

Well, here we are, three issues in this story of only six parts and i still cant tell if i like it or not. What i know for sure tho is that Zdarsky never read any Red Hood books, i had my suspicions but now i am at least 95% sure.

This Jason has been nerfed. We had a perfectly balanced Jason back in 2005 he was smart, skilled, confident and strategic. Then from 2011 to 2020 (let’s put the fact that Lobdell is trash aside for a moment) Jason was skilled, he had the whole “chosen one” thing going on with the all-castle, and in some moments you could even see him being quick witted and confident. But now in this first half of this story he is extremely insecure, his skill set and expertise is barely there and is presented as just reckless.

The other day i was talking about how DC treats Jason, how they just can’t decide on who he is, what motivates him or what he wants. His personality is a whole ass mess, it was fine in 2005 and 2010 when Winick wrote him but then Lobdell from years 2011 to 2020 just couldn't decide what he wanted to do with Jason or his relationship with Batman and his rules. After Lobdell finally left Jason was passed around people who either only read Lobdell's work, or didn't read anything from him or didn't take into account Jason's life because their book was set in a future that may never happen.

What i am trying to say is that Jason doesn't have a personality, and writers don't really add things to the Jason that we “know”, what they do is start his story from zero over and over again. There is no consistency to Jason's character and while you could argue that maybe this new start could be the definite version of Jason Todd/Red Hood i will point out that this nerfed version of him is a major disservice to the character that he was when he was brought back to DC.

It’s simply not nice.

And in this particular issue the “Jason isn't that good at this whole vigilante gig” is even more pushed because of the whole “batman knows best” bullshit. I am not getting this (anthologies) book with a Red Hood story just for Batman to come in and be like “I am actually good at this job, you know nothing AND i have the moral high-ground”, this is NOT it.

If you are reading a Red Hood story chances are that you will be interested in Red Hood not Batman.

Oh one more thing, Jason was an excellent Robin. He was kind, smart and skilled. I liked the flashbacks in UtRH because it showed Jason being all that but he also understood a couple of things about the kind of criminals that Gotham had, your common thug is easily scared of the concept of Batman but the dress-ups knew that no matter what they did the Bat would never kill them, that’s what Jason thought about criminals there.

This Robin Jason is treated rather poorly by Zdarsky at times, he feels insecure and inferior to Dick but he is also dismissive of him and the Robin mantle in the first issue, now in this one he is shown as way too reckless (which is kinda bad because it feeds into DCs favorite trope of “Jason’s death was Jason’s fault”) and his stance on “low level” criminals is weird, like it was made clear that drug related criminals are Jason’s biggest issue, thieves were not.

Those are my general thoughts on this issue and the current state of Jason’s characterization. I have some panels from this issue that i want to talk about in more depth tho, so here we go.

The issue stars were we left off once more, Tyler defends Jason and when Batman asks who he is Tyler says that he is the Blue Hood, that was really sweet of him, that child is adorable and he needs to be protected.

Once the Bat distracts Tyler Jason tells the Bat that the man he killed was Tyler’s dad.

There are a couple of things i want to point out from these panels, Jason feels incredibly guilty, not about killing Andy but about leaving Tyler in a situation that is similar to the one he was left in when his own mother died. He still believes that Andy was not a good man and deserved to be dead, after all he was drugging his own son and was the reason Tyler’s mom overdosed and is now in the hospital. It just hits incredibly close to home for Jason and i understand completely.

The other thing i want to point out is that Jason says “I know your rules. No killing in Gotham” so, this is (to me) confirmation that Jason hasn’t killed in a long time and that he has been sticking to the Bat's rules (at least in Gotham). Andy (a drug-dealer) is the only person that Jason has killed since the events of UtRH (that are apparently canon in this story because it was mentioned in the first issue).

Following this conversation the Bat says that he will take care of Tyler’s mother (yikes, i really thought in my last post that Jason was the one who would have tried to get her the help she needed, to me it seems more appropriate if Jason does it given that this is his story but what do I know)

This is where this Red Hood story transforms into the Batman show.

Not only will Bruce take care of Tyler's mom but he will clean up the mess and shut down the making of the drug all by himself. Jason tells him that he will do it but the Bat tells Jason that if he wants to do it they will have to do it together because there is no way he is letting Jason out of his sight, he made a mess!

Yes, nothing like making the lead character look incompetent at his job. Love that for Jason.

Before the team up starts Batman and Red Hood go to Leslie's place to leave Tyler with her. This is a good moment only because there is a dog involved, well…Tyler, Jason and a dog are involved, best panel in the whole issue? I think yes.

Maybe I have a couple more panels that are my favs in this issue, here they are, a lil bit of positivity in this extra bitter post.

Now I will be honest, I hate Batman (Bruce’s Batman, love Dick Bats he was the MVP) so him saying that he is helping a Robin makes me want to shoot him. You are not helping; you are overtaking, as you do. Never a team player, the Batgod must always be the center of the show.

Back in the new cave Bruce talks to Jason about the drug and who he thinks might be behind it's production. He also makes sure to let Jason know that he is very smart and might be the only person outside of Crane's circle that knows how analyze a very unstable compound…weird flex but okay. He also teases Jason about his detective skills. Yay.

Flashback time! Get ready!

Robin Jason and Batman are at a crime scene and Jason doesn’t seem to be in the mood to play CSI: Gotham with Bruce.

At one moment Jason says “and then we will stomp the guy who did this” (“this” being murder), which makes Jim Gordon (who came to see if batman was done playing Sherlock Holmes) uncomfortable, so Batman tells Jason to wait for him. As Jason is going he sees someone acting suspicious.

Back to present day Batman and Red Hood are visiting the woman that created the compound that makes Fear Gas, the interrogation starts well but because this is the Batman show and Jason is bad at reading people and asking questions we have a scene that shows Jason being a bit too much.

I honestly thought that the first question was fair, but then after they leave the office they were in Batman basically goes on a rant about the things that Jason missed.

Ok, I get it Batman = good vigilante. Red Hood = Incompetent.

Zdarsky is honestly trying to make us believe that Jason hasn’t picked up any of those things, in his years as Robin with Batman AND Nightwing? They both taught him, there is no way Jason doesn’t know the basics of how to read people. Also do you guys remember Jason in UtRH and Lost Days? That guy read people perfectly, how is UtRH canon in this story, did Jason lose his skills in the explosion when he blew up the Joker?

As if that wasn’t enough Batman calls Red Hood reckless after they don’t agree on what to do next.

To this I say the following: Never again make me believe that Jason will willingly work with Batman. They don’t work together and neither are willing to meet each other halfway, even less let the other lead. This makes the idea of Jason following the Bat’s rules and him being part of the “Batfamily” the joke that it actually is.

They don’t work well together anymore; bring duality back to Gotham 2021.

Back in the past where the previous flashback is resumed we have Jim telling Batman that the new Robin seems a bit too rough around the edges. Did Jim ever meet Dick as Robin? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Dick was a sweetheart but he also beat criminals alongside batman every night. It just doesn’t feel like what Jason said was that much of a violent statement or anything, maybe I just don’t get it.

But don’t worry if you don’t get it, because we are shown Robin Jason going after that suspicious man, he is beating him asking if he knows anything about the murder or what exactly he was doing so close to the crime scene when Batman arrives. Through Batman we are told that that man was no longer a criminal, to which Jason says this, “…The guy is a jewel thief! He will always be a thief” and Batman responds “I refuse to believe that. Didn’t I meet you in the middle of stealing the Batmobile’s tires?”

I can’t believe Bruce went full “It’s over Jason. I have the moral high ground” on Robin Jason.

I mean Jason is OOC, we know this, but he has to be that way in order to make Batman look better when compared to a child. DC hates Jason Todd #Confirmed.

It kinda reminds me of that thing DC does with Dick and Barbara, Dick is skilled and smart as long as Barbara isn’t in the room, if she is then Dick will forget to check if there is someone inside his apartment and then be thrown across the room by her and then be told that he sucks at putting security in his living space.

Moving on...back to the present one last time Jason is interrogating a man while he dangles him from the edge of a building (did Dick teach him that? I bet he did.) After getting some information he calls Oracle so he can make sure that the place he is going to is safe. Oracle tells him the she will help him but she did not like the fact that the last time she helped him someone ended up dead.

Now, fair warning, Barbara and Jason big NO for me and after Geoff Johns and his antics in Three Jokers I have zero love for their “team-ups”.

Jason says this,

Believing in him? Excuse me? Chonky, baby, she only helped you find a building.

All I can do at this point is pray to whichever god or whoever hears that this does not lead to Jason pinning for Barbara. We don’t need it (Barbara doesnt need it), I might be overreacting, I hope I am, but nobody wants that kind of drama right now, thanks.

When he arrives to the place he was looking for I think everyone can tell that it’s a trap, everyone but Jason apparently.

How on earth does Jason not realize it’s a trap up until it’s too late? Are you joking? Is this a Red Hood story? Are we really doing this? Just how incompetent is Jason in Zdarsky’s eyes?

Freeze…is it Freeze? I don’t care but he is there, he freezes Jason and that’s the end of the issue.

Listen, I wish I could say that this is the worst Jason has been treated and that this book is horrible, I wish but I can’t. I can’t do it because this isn’t the worst characterization or book of Jason, this is still a pretty good story, could it be better? Yes.

I mean this story is written by someone who obviously doesn’t know Jason and that sucks but it still isnt the worst characterization and it messes me up. Three Jokers was worse than this, certain plot decisions in Future State: Red Hood were worse than this (in my opinion) and Lobdell’s New52 RHatO was pure trash (that is the worst book, just horrible please dont read it).

I am saying this only to make it clear that even tho this issue was painful (mostly if you don’t like Batman) I still have hope that it can turn out to be good. I cant help it, i want and need this story to be good and there is still time for it to get better.

Alright thats all i have to say, let me know what you thought about this issue and my review, bye!

#jason todd #red hood #batman urban legends #urban legends red hood #dc comics #red hood outlaw #robin jason todd

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fandom-space-princess · 3 years

Text

The Game of Us

Rating: T (gen, no warnings)

Chapter 4: Lucifer

“You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here? It’s over. I’d say you won, but I get the feeling we both lost, after all. Isn’t that enough? Can’t you leave me in peace?”

“Is this peace?” Michael asks quietly. “What you have here?”

Lucifer bends a leg up to curl arms around it, rests his chin on his knee. “I am very good at being alone, Michael.” Michael winces, but that curious flatness is back in Lucifer’s voice; the words, for all that they should be an accusation, hold only stale resignation. “Better than you know.”

Read below the cut, or on AO3

************************************

“Why are we here? Who are you, that you would ask this of us?”

The man—and he is a man, now, for all that his form remains indistinct at the edges—regards him critically. “You continue to plead ignorance on each of those points, but come now. We both know better.”

Michael says nothing, but his shoulders slump in resignation.

“I had hoped... well. It doesn’t matter.”

“Denial can protect you in some circumstances, spur you to action in others. It will do neither in this case, and you know that. Your Maker will not return for you, Mikha’el, not now and not ever. He was never the being you believed Him to be, but that is hardly your fault. Come to terms with it, and move forward. You have responsibilities to attend to.”

The man strides off, unwilling to slow his pace, and Michael plods after him. Each step is a challenge; the mass of disquiet and unease he carries feels more of a burden the farther he goes. He studies his feet as he walks. There is one thing he cannot deny now, at least: he is certain that he no longer looks like Chuck. Whatever image he does currently project, his benefactor has no commentary to make on the subject. His thoughts lie decidedly elsewhere.

“I am here to restore balance to reality,” he continues. “Nothing more, and nothing less. It is my sole and solemn role in this universe, and it is one I take quite seriously. Whatever your Father intended for His creation, your presence is required for that balance to hold—all four of you. Recent events have threatened irreversible catastrophe. I refuse to let this come to pass.”

He thinks of Raphael, immovable and still in their mourning. “All of us?”

The man waves his hand, dismissive. “Save your worrying for where it’s needful. The healer will come along in due time. We have—reached an accord.” He pauses. “Talking of needs, you still have one brother left to convince. Bit of a hard sell, I’m afraid you’ll find.”

His grace roils within him, but he feels the shape he wears begin to solidify. The space around him begins to brighten, bit by bit. “If I fail to convince him... what becomes of us? What will you do?”

The man fixes him with a stony look.

“What I always do. To wit: clean up the mess of those around me. Believe me, reinstating the four of you is by far my preferred option; a good deal more pleasant for all of us, all things considered. But if that option is unavailable to me, I will do what I must.”

The man smiles. He thinks the expression might be intended as gentleness. “I have the utmost faith in you. Appreciate what you are being given, First of Heaven. Take advantage of it to the fullest, while the opportunity is still available to you.” He shrugs, and motions for Michael to walk ahead without him.

“Not everyone is offered a second chance.”

************************************

The path under his feet may be constant, but around him reality ebbs and flows like the tide, hills and forest eddying away on the greater currents of night. He focuses only on the path, on keeping his feet under him; ignores the pull of psychic undertow that threatens to drag him down.

I am not like my Father, he thinks as he walks. It stings. He feels carefully around the edges of the thought, tries to grasp it again. I am not my Father’s creature. That one hurts too. I am not the son He wanted me to be.

The light surrounding Michael continues to brighten, a dim but insistent glow.

He was not the Father I thought I had .

That one hurts worst of all.

What am I, if not the son to the Father I thought I knew? What is my purpose, if I do not serve?

Without noticing, he has begun to climb. The path winds slowly up, toward the peak of a hillside overlooking the expanse of the sea. It is only when he crests the hill and comes face-to-face with a low stone wall that he realizes what this place is meant to be.

It has been millennia since he last gave thought to the Oracle of the Dead.

He runs his hands across the memory of stone, worn smooth by time in some places, pitted in others by the salt-sea air. Twenty paces along the perimeter of the wall, and a gap in the earth yawns open before him. Rough-hewn steps lead downward to a shadowed door. He thinks of the gate to the Cage, and shudders.

He has come this far. For his brothers, for himself—he can do this.

Michael descends, and the ground closes in around him.

************************************

Though he has never set foot in this place corporeally, knowledge is a map etched into his grace. An antechamber, high and vaulted, stands between himself and the temple’s ceremonial gates. Through these, human mourners and congregants would have passed to seek communion with their dead. A labyrinthine warren of lesser tunnels spreads out from this point as well. Passages to more intimate chambers in which those same seekers would have made preparation: catechesis from holy priests and cleansing by water and by more esoteric means. They would have walked their own paths to this destination, he thinks. They would have made sacrifices.

His own path will have to serve as purification enough. Inhaling deeply, he passes under the first gate. As he does so, the light surrounding him brightens.

There is no denying the source of that light, now.

Beyond the first gate, the way descends again, switchback tunnels with secrets hovering just beyond his grasp around each corner. And yet, he feels as though he’s gaining ground: for every step nearer his destination, his will is becoming more focused, achieving something like surety. He can feel it in the settling of his grace, in the resolution of the image he is now all but certain he projects.

At the second gate, he hears the distant rumble of water. The way beyond is flat, and straight. Five hundred feet on, the third gate looms.

Shadows flicker around him, though the torches set into the dusty walls have long since forgotten flame.

As he draws near the final threshold, he sees them, out of the corners of his eyes. He’d had few enough occasions to manifest them during his brief time on Earth, but now he cannot seem to do anything else.

The trailing edges of his wings, pulled tight to his shoulders, brush the walls of the tunnel. They’re glowing, what of them he is able to see, casting light in this darkest of places.

The light is like...

Michael shivers.

Like the dawn.

************************************

The final gate opens, not onto any chamber carved by the hands of man, but a natural grotto, rock worn away over the span of centuries. The river pours through a crack in the ground far above. Its name whispers in his mind, hallowed and ancient: Acheron. It spills forty feet through open air before spending its energy in a churning subterranean pool. Light from his wings refracts through the waterfall, dancing and shimmering across the walls.

Then again... not solely from his wings.

The figure seated at the foot of the waterfall stares into it, and does not look up as he approaches.

“Why are you here?” Lucifer asks. The words come out flat, oddly empty. As though it were not truly a question he cared to hear the answer for. “What could possibly bring our Father’s favorite son to the edge of the river of woe?”

Michael walks past him, circling the edge of his field of vision. He feels the moment Lucifer turns to lay eyes on him for the first time. Senses the hard edge of immediacy his focus gains.

At least he has his attention. He sighs. For all that he knows what to do with it.

He seats himself at the edge of the pool, extending one unshod foot out to dangle over the water. Studies his reflection, looking back up at him. Everything about the face he wears is sharp: high carved cheekbones and ice-chip eyes, blond curls smooth as cut diamond. He glows brightly, now, as though he has swallowed the sun; a luminescence that overflows, spilling out across skin and wings and pulsing a song of home holy bright pure home home home.

The Lightbringer’s first form had always been radiant.

His reflection is abruptly joined by its double in the water. Lucifer settles next to him, staring openly.

“You mock me.”

Michael grimaces. “I don’t. This place... if there is any mocking to be done, I’m a far worthier target than you are.” Lucifer reaches out to him, caution and curiosity warring across his face. With the tips of his fingers at Michael’s jaw, he turns his head. Examines his duplicate with narrowed eyes. After a moment, he draws back, and his gaze returns to the waterfall.

A glint of metal catches his eye, and Michael flinches. Thick golden manacles encircle Lucifer’s wrists. He can’t believe he has failed to noticed them until now. Though his brother seems undisturbed by them, Michael knows how heavy they must be.

“Is this peace?” Michael asks quietly. “What you have here?”

For several long moments, the only sound is the crash of the water.

“I was told to come to you,” he ventures finally. Lucifer’s gaze snaps to him, and Michael fights a sudden impulse to squirm under it.

“By whom?”

Michael shakes his head sadly. “Not... not Him.”

The spark in Lucifer’s eyes fades as rapidly as it had appeared. He tilts his head and squints, as though listening to a conversation just at the edge of hearing. A blink, then he scowls. “Ah. Him, then. What does he want? I’m dead. So far as he should be concerned, his job is complete. Can’t get much deader.”

“We’ve been tasked to return to the world. Our Father no longer orders the universe. Without us, reality stands to fall to ruin. I was commanded to bring you back with me.”

Lucifer stares at him, wide-eyed and incredulous. Then he tips his head back, a bark of laughter tearing free from his throat.

“You—you honestly think I’ll come with you. Why, exactly? An overabundance of goodwill? A sense of camaraderie? Family? You took a few too many blows to the head in life, O Best-Beloved Son. What has reality been for me but pain?”

His grin is serene, beautiful, and all the more vicious for it.

”The world can burn.”

He turns away. Glides languidly to the lip of the pool, and extends an arm to let the mist from the waterfall dance across his fingers.

“I don’t think it is peace I have here.” Water runs down his hand, collects over the metal at his wrist. He watches it bead and fall, a slow and steady drip. “But at least I have certainty. You know, I never really let myself believe that it would play out like this? I should have understood you better, but I always...” He glances back at Michael, then shakes his head. “... you were always His, at the expense of everything else. Everyone else. That’s all He made you to be.”

The air between them is stretched taut, tense and fraying. Michael feels it in his bones, the ease with which he could snap it.

Instead, he stands, and paces to Lucifer’s side. Lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry."

Lucifer tenses under his touch.

“You aren’t,” he spits. “You’re desperate, and you’re serving a master. Just like you’ve always done.” He turns abruptly to face Michael, all cold and sudden fury, and grasps his wrist.

“I am,” Michael says. He lets the remorse resonate in his voice, and knows Lucifer hears it when he snarls in return.

“Too little, too late, Mike. All I’ve ever been is the means to someone else’s end.” He shoves Michael back a step. “The universe needs me so much? Well, good riddance to the universe. Nothing Dad made is worth saving. Nothing.”

His wrath is incandescent, a blaze of grace through the air around them. He advances on Michael; poised to do what, Michael isn’t sure. Lucifer raises a hand, as though to strike him, or push him away again? And—

Michael sinks to his knees before him, and bows his head. It startles Lucifer into stillness.

“You are.”

"What? "

“You are,” Michael repeats, barely a whisper. “Worth saving. Gabriel is, and Raphael is, and you are. And if you don’t agree...” His breath hitches, and his eyes clench shut. “Then I won’t fight you. I haven’t earned the right, and I know that. But I’m not leaving here, either. If everything ends, then it ends.” He inhales deeply. “But I won’t let you stay here and burn out of existence alone.”

In the space between heartbeats that follows, the silence is absolute. Even the sound of the water vanishes. Michael opens his eyes, and dares to peer up at Lucifer.

His face is blank with shock.

“You don’t mean that,” he grits out, but the conviction has gone out of it.

“I do.”

He drops to the ground beside Michael, head falling into his hands. Cautiously, a millimeter at a time, Michael extends a wing. Until, at last, it drapes across Lucifer’s shoulders.

“Come with me,” Michael asks. “Please. Gabriel and Raphael are already waiting. We can move forward. Become something new, something beyond Him. Together.”

From behind his hands Lucifer chokes on a laugh that transforms partway through into something more closely resembling a sob. “How?” he asks. Michael hears the rest of the thought, unspoken but weighty: how can we leave this behind? How do I move forward?

Gently, he tugs Lucifer’s hands from his face. Takes them in his own.

“Drink from the river.”

Lucifer’s gaze flashes to the waterfall, and the corner of his mouth quirks in what might be amusement, voice thick with emotion. “Cleanse myself like the humans did, huh? ‘Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.’ I have to admit it has... style.” He chuckles.

Michael smiles back at him. “Nothing about this is what I expected it to be. Least of all our benefactor’s sense of humor.”

They pull each other to their feet, and Lucifer turns to face the river.

“Better than the last time I interacted with him. Guess that’s an apology I owe. Though I suppose I’ll be seeing him soon enough.” He steps forward, then looks back at Michael. “Hey, Mike?”

“Yes?”

“Not that this isn’t a good look on you—” A broad, sweeping gesture indicates Michael’s still-radiant form, identical to his own. “But I hope you can find something that suits you better. He can’t define you any more, no more than He can define me. Even by virtue of opposition.” He extends both hands out into the waterfall, water trickling down his arms as before. This time, when it makes contact with the golden metal at his wrists, the manacles dissolve away, mist into mist.

He watches them go, an unreadable expression on his face.

“We both deserve to be more than that.”

He dips his head to his cupped hands, and drinks.

************************************

(Chapter notes:

- Latin from the Aeneid. “If I cannot bend the will of Heaven, I shall move Hell.” Acheronta in the case of the original quote being Virgil’s colloquialism for the underworld as a whole, in addition to the name of the river.

- The setting here is very, very loosely based on descriptions of the Nekromanteion of Acheron. The original purpose of the temple was the practice of necromancy, and to pay tribute to Hades and Persephone. People would come to the temple to cleanse themselves before seeking to speak with the dead. As a place to reinvent yourself so completely that you end up literally reincarnated, it seemed fitting :) )

#spnarchangelweek #day 3 lucifer #michael spn #gabriel spn #raphael spn #lucifer spn #my fanfic #spn #supernatural

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