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flemingsfreckles · 1 day

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Grandkids

Jessie Fleming x Reader (parent fic)

Synopsis: You and Jessie catch wind that your teenage daughter might have a boyfriend. Jessie loses her mind over it.

Warnings: discussions of sex, bird and the bees type conversation

WC: 1.7k

A/N: literally no one asked for this but I’m struggling to write. This is just another short blurb that got written because I had a single thought about Jessie being a mom to teenagers and having to give her kids the birds and the bees talk.

When your children had gotten home from school that day, you and Jessie were in the office, organizing old documents. The office was just located off the kitchen where your two children had walked through the door.

Your youngest child, Riley was already interrogating at his older sister. “So what is he your boyfriend now, are you guys all gross and in love?” You paused what you were doing, listening further into the conversation.

“Stop Riley.”

“Amelia and Nick sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Your younger one continues to taunt his sister

“Ughhh, shut up!” Your daughter's voice begins to fade, you assume she’s walking out of the room and away from the teasing that’s going on.

“Where are you going? To call your boyfriend?” You hear Riley call after her followed shortly by the slamming of a bedroom door. Normally the door slamming would be immediate grounds for either you or Jessie to go talk with your daughter. However you and your wife both remained frozen in the office.

You hear your son grab something from the fridge and make his way to his own room before closing the door.

When you heard his bedroom door close Jessie started speaking. “Did he just say her boyfriend?”

“I think so? I don’t know?” You shrug at your wife before turning to put more papers away, no longer being distracted by the conversation between your teenagers.

“Why are you fine with this?” Jessie now standing, no longer caring to organize and shred paper. Clearly Jessie was not taking the new information well.

“Fine with what?” You look at Jessie, taking the papers in her hands to finish filing them away.

“Our daughter having a boyfriend.” She says as if it’s the most obvious answer.

“Oh right, I’m sorry, she didn’t turn out gay like us, we tried our best.” You feel the smile creeping across your face. “Maybe we should’ve let her play softball and dressed her in more flannels as a little kid.”

“Can you take something seriously for once?!” Jessie was usually a fan of your humor but it appeared that today was not the day for it. She was clearly upset.

“Jessie, first of all, Riley is 15 he might not actually know what he’s talking about, he might’ve just overheard some school gossip. Second of all, Amelia is 17, not 12, she can have a boyfriend.” You roll your eyes at your wife, seeing and hearing the panic that she was having.

“I thought we had agreed when she was born that she wasn’t allowed to date until she was 25!” Jessie was whispering yelling at you, not wanting to alert your children.

“That was a joke Jessie, I’m not controlling my kid’s romantic life until they’re 25!” You both had jokingly talked that you wouldn’t let anyone near her, she was your little girl, you both overbearing as brand new parents. You had forgotten about that, obviously realizing that she’s a human and will likely date before she’s 25.

“Well she can’t have a boyfriend.” She crosses her arms, staring at you like you’re the bad guy in this situation. You throw your arms out, not sure why Jessie is upset with you.

“She’s 17, it’s fine, we don’t even know if it’s actually a boyfriend.” You tried to reason with your wife but you could practically see the steam coming from her ears.

“She’s too young to have a boyfriend, she’s too young to be having sex!” Jessie whispers the word ‘sex’ as if just saying it was going to cause a teenage pregnancy somewhere in the world. “We cannot have grandkids yet!”

“Oh my god,” you start to laugh. “You’re fully losing it over this aren’t you?” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s dramatic jump from a potential boyfriend to your daughter giving you grandkids in a matter of seconds.

“I don’t know why you’re so okay with our daughter having sex with a boy we’ve never even met!” Jessie is wildly waving her hands, her face has a look of panic on it.

“Alright, sit, take a deep breath.” You push Jessie’s shoulders forcing her to put her weight up against the desk, half sitting on it. She takes a deep breath and you take one with her. You keep your hands on her shoulders, giving them a squeeze as you talk to her.

“We don’t know he’s her boyfriend. Let’s not jump to conclusions here. Amelia is a smart girl, you know that.” You take her hands in yours. “If she’s determined that now is the time she wants to start dating, I think we need to understand that that’s okay. We can talk with her about it. We’ll tell her our expectations, the expectations we have for her and whoever she wants to date. It’ll be fine.”

Jessie takes her hands from yours, crossing her arms over her chest, letting out a small huff. “But it’s not fine, I don’t trust him, I don’t think he has good intentions.”

“You’ve never met the kid, Jessie just because he’s a teenage boy, doesn’t mean he only wants sex from her.” You pause before you continue, knowing your wife would likely not be happy with the next few words you said. “And Jessie,” you grab her face making her look at you. “if she is dating this boy or dating anyone, and she’s curious about the physical intimacy that comes with that, I think that’s okay.”

“No its-” you hold up your hand to stop Jessie’s sentence.

“Let me finish. If she’s curious and has questions, I’d rather she feel comfortable coming to us than to the internet or her friends who don’t know and will give her terrible information. Yes, 17 is young, but she’s practically an adult Jessie. She’ll be off at school in a year, where she won’t have us to help her with these things.” You can practically see the rage building up in your wife’s face. “Now I'm not going to sit here and tell her to go have sex, but I'm not going to let our daughter be taught that sex is a sinful or scary thing, you know that. We’ve raised them to be open and honest about sex so far, we can’t become a sex-negative household now that she’s at that age where it might be a thought. We can talk with her, have an adult conversation. We’ll explain the emotional aspect that comes with it, we’ll make sure she understands all the aspects of what it means to have sex with someone. And that if,” you take a deep breath, “if she’s planning on, or has any interest in having sex, we’ll get her set with birth control or condoms, probably both.”

“She’s too young, putting her on birth control would be like offering to buy them a hotel room to do it.” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s behavior still, you thought your reasoning would’ve helped her opinion at least a little.

When you first learned you were having a girl, Jessie was admient that no one would go near your daughter until she was 30. But the two of you had done your best to raise your kids to be informed, you taught them about consent early, you taught them the anatomy of where babies come from, when your daughter turned 14, you and Jessie sat her down, giving her the full bird and the bees talk. You did most of the talking, Jessie was there but she looked just as mortified as your daughter did. You taught her sex wasn’t bad and sex wasn’t just for babies, it was for intimacy, connection, enjoyment, it was fun, it was a way to connect with another person, but that didn’t make it any less serious. Jessie had been on board before with these discussions, she didn’t always participate fully, but she was always there and you knew your daughter had gone to her to ask her some questions after to get clarification. But now that the reality of your daughter starting this part of her life was real, Jessie had done a 180.

“Jessie, she’s a teenager, teenagers have hormones. If she wants to have sex, it’s going to happen, teenagers find a way whether we like it or not. I’d rather her be having safe, informed, and protected sex, than unsafe sex in a boy’s mom’s car in a sketchy dark parking lot in the middle of nowhere just so they can avoid getting caught.”

You both sit in silence, Jessie looks at the ground and you look at her.

“I hate that you’re right.” She mumbles after a few minutes.

“I know.” You kiss her cheek with a smile. “Jessie” you grab your wife’s hand, your thumb rubbing over where her wedding band and engagement ring sat, “Let’s just go talk to her, that way we’re not sitting here guessing and making up scenarios. For all we know it’s not a boyfriend.”

“I just can’t believe she wouldn’t tell us. She’s our little girl, she used to tell us everything.” You can now see the sadness in Jessie’s eyes.

“I know, but our little girl is growing up, she’s a moody teenager now, she’s not going to want to share everything with us, and that’s okay.” You sit down next to Jessie, resting your head on her shoulder as you both stare at the door of the office.

“I want her to go back to being so little. I used to be able to hold her in one arm.”

“I know, they both used to be so little.” You and Jessie sat together, your head on her shoulder, reminiscing on the 17 years that seemed to have flown by. Thinking about how small their fingers used to be, how small their clothes were, how they’d babble at you, all of that gone, you now had two grown children.

“We did a pretty good job with them I think. They’re good people.”

“Yeah,” Jessie laughs, “just not to each other.”

“Well they’re siblings.” You respond back. You realize you’ll probably have to talk to your son too about his teasing. “Ready to go talk to her?” You ask Jessie.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to watch her grow up but I don’t think I have a choice.” Jessie says pushing herself off the desk. “Let’s go.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #jessie fleming blurb

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mingisdoll · 12 hours

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But I like them

Trope: actor!Seonghwa x manager!reader

Includes: gn!reader, cold Seonghwa but he's actually just shy [yet scary when angry], angst with a fluffy ending

@newworldnet

@blossomnet

They say famous actor Park Seonghwa doesn't match the happy roles he's given. But that's just it. They were roles. On camera, most of the characters he plays were happy-go-lucky and he likes to get along with people.

Off camera is a different story.

Once a scene ends, his smile diminishes and he has this stone-cold facade that scares everyone. From the camera crew to the staff. Some even grew afraid of him to the point where they beg him not to fire them after one minor slip-up.

Spoiler alert: they don't get fired since he's actually very kind.

He doesn't know how to show it properly.

He's been criticized by all kinds of media, claiming that he won't get anymore roles or that his fame will die down if he keeps on being mean to his staff.

Some even spread rumors that he scared off his managers.

That wasn't true! They were simply incompetent and always pressured him into smiling, saying that he'll get more views or new fans if he smiled. If he didn't smile, they would yell at him and claim that he will die alone since he scares everyone that cares for him away. He's gotten used to it and even told them that they could walk out the door if they didn't like it. Most of the time, they did.

Then you came along.

Unlike most managers, you didn't necessarily treat him like a client. Rather, you treated him like a friend. You always say good morning, ask how he is doing, and even asks if he slept well. His answers were short since he wasn't used to this treatment but you didn't mind. After all, you wanted to show him that you were different.

Today wasn't anything unusual. You greeted him, asked about his wellbeing, before getting into the schedule for the day.

"A new role opened up for you -"

"I don't want it. If I have to play another happy guy, I refuse."

"Come on now, you big womp! This is different."

"That's what they all say, Y/N."

"Ok look. If it's another happy role, I will discard the invitation and tell the director to fuck off. Sound good?"

One thing that Seonghwa liked about you is that you weren't adamant about your persuasion and you were willing to compromise. If he didn't like it, you wouldn't push it any further. Another thing that Seonghwa liked about you was that you weren't so formal when it was the two of you. You treated him like a human being, not a celebrity they put on a pedestal.

Sighing quietly, he took the invitation in between his slender fingers and opened it. His eyes widened as he read up on the information provided for this new role. You even saw his eyes shine bright with determination and confidence as he read it over and over. He slammed down the paper with excitement and he looked over at you.

"Tell the director that we should meet up immediately! I accept."

"Told you it was different."

Your heart fluttered as you saw the biggest smile on his face appear. You achieved the impossible.

All you did was provide him a role opportunity that didn't have him acting happy.

So then why would his acting agency fire you as soon as you told them that Seonghwa accepted the role?

As soon as you were out, a new manager came in. And Seonghwa didn't like it. He grew accustomed to you and he wanted to bring you flowers as a thank-you gift for helping him land this role. Imagine his surprise when he found a random woman standing there, claiming herself as his new manager.

The smile on his face disappeared once more.

The flowers dropped from his hand and his fist clenched. The woman eagerly grabbed his hand and giggled.

"It's ok, Seonghwa! Turn that frown upside down!"

"That's Mr. Park to you."

The woman's smile dropped as he pulled his hand away from her and watched with fierce eyes as she stepped away and bowed her head upon hearing his anger. The board directors of his agency rolled their eyes and spoke up.

"Come on, Seonghwa. We're just trying to help out. This role is too depressing and it won't look good for your image."

"MY IMAGE OR YOURS?!"

Everyone flinched. This was the first time he yelled at them. His rage was coursing through his veins and he was breathing heavily. He continued to speak.

"FOR YEARS, I'VE BEEN WANTING TO BROADEN MY ACTING EXPERIENCE! YOU PROMISED ME OVER AND OVER AGAIN THAT YOU WOULD PROVIDE ME ROLES THAT DIDN'T FIT THE HAPPY-GO-LUCKY CRITERIA! I AM SICK AND TIRED OF THESE ROLES! WHAT GOOD IS ACTING IF I DON'T EXPLORE OTHER CHARACTER TYPES?!"

"Seonghwa, please calm down -"

"THAT'S MR. PARK TO YOU! AND I WILL NOT CALM DOWN!"

"Your fans won't like this new role - "

"Contrary to what you may think, my fans have actually been begging me to explore different character types! They say they're tired of my smiley roles!"

"Mr. Park, if you can just cooperate - "

"IF YOU DON'T BRING BACK Y/N AND LET ME ACCEPT THIS ROLE, I WILL QUIT THIS AGENCY AND WATCH IT BURN TO THE GROUND!"

That silenced the agency right away. Seonghwa sighed shakily and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"If I don't see them back here tomorrow, I will quit. Not just this agency but acting altogether. Don't come crying to me if you end up being boycotted."

The sneer on his face and the anger in his voice frightened them to no end and they all nodded. Seonghwa straightened out his suit jacket and picked up the flowers.

"Now then. If you'll excuse me, I will bring these to their apartment and apologize on behalf of your stupidity for letting them go. Don't stop me."

They watched in fear as he walked out of the office and stomped his way over to where you lived.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A satisfied look appeared on Seonghwa's face as he walked into the office and saw you sitting there with two cups of coffee. One for him and one for you.

"Morning, Hwa! How are you?"

"I'm doing a whole lot better now that you have arrived."

"I heard you scared these guys shitless yesterday."

"And what about it?"

"That's not your best behavior, Mr. Park."

"Will you punish me for being a naughty boy?"

"Yeah. I ain't taking you to get Korean barbecue after this ends."

The pout on Seonghwa's face made the agency directors realize just how comfortable Seonghwa was with you.

"But but but but but - "

"No ifs, ands, or buts. You gotta apologize for scaring them."

Seonghwa sighed dramatically and turned to the board directors before spewing out an apology. Was it lame? Yeah. Did you complain? Nah. After turning to you for approval, you nodded slowly.

"Ok that works. Now come on. The director of that action show is here. Now that this mess is over, you can finally get some pointers on how to portray a villainous CEO properly."

"We are getting Korean barbecue afterwards. Right? Please please please pretty please~"

The shininess in his doe eyes almost made you fold. You sighed and nodded.

"Fine. But you're paying."

After clapping giddily and smiling brightly at the thought of food, the two of you exited the office.

#newworldnet #blossomnet #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader

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narrans · 20 hours

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My Borrowed Son | 23 | Terse Table Talk

Chapter Twenty-Three | Terse Table Talk

Kers heard the voices extinguish like a snuffed candle as soon as the call of, “hello?” left his lips. There was a slight shuffle of light souled shoes. A few hushed whispers Kers couldn’t make out but guessed it had something to do with protection and curiosity.

He decided to call out again.

This was one thing he hated about meeting new Borrowers – the apprehension and fear of whether they were kind or evil. Too many times his encounters ended up with the later rather than the former.

Images flashed in front of Kers’ eyes of memories long passed. It was quick, but just enough to set Kers on edge as he spoke up again.

“Hello? Listen, I don’t mean to intrude. My name is Kers. I just moved here with the human. If you don’t want me around, I’ll go somewhere else. You won’t even know I’m here. I just wanted to explore the walls and set up a good place to stay. From one Borrower to another, any help is appreciated.”

The words he spoke were words Kers heard his brothers say countless times when they moved around as kids. Just saying it made his throat constrict, but he would muddle through that later.

The silence that followed was deafening and thick with unease. It put the Borrower on edge to the point he reached for the pin on his side. The only hesitation came when a masculine voice, smooth and aged, answered.

“You alone?”

Kers breathed a relative sigh of relief, but he was far from being in the clear yet. It was a start though.

“Yes, I am,” he replied as he thought of Parker, a topic he decided was not good to bring up right at this moment.

Another pause.

Then, emerging from the corner, was who Kers assumed was the father. He had thick facial hair but a thinning hair line, both speckled with blond and silver hair. The Borrower had fierce eyes that absorbed the light coming from the light that was on the end of his walking stick. He had his staff light held out defensively and quickly evaluated Kers. Whatever this Borrower had seen in his life, he obviously was a quick reader when it came to character.

It took a few moments before he retracted his staff.

“New arrival, you say?” he asked gruffly. Kers nodded.

“Yeah. Haven’t even been here twenty minutes,” replied Kers.

“From where?”

“Electrical outlet in the living room. Don’t worry. I put it back.”

“And the human? Does she know about you?”

Kers had to think about the Borrower’s question for a moment. The truthful answer was yes and no, seeing that Amanda knew about Parker; but, that wasn’t the question.

“No, she doesn’t know about me. I’ve been around her for four years. I can share what I know. Patterns. Organization. Schedule,” offered Kers.

The Borrower’s eyes narrowed as he evaluated Kers’ offer. He actually reached up and stroked at his silver streaked beard as he considered the possibilities in front of him.

“In exchange for?” he asked after several more tense seconds.

“Nothing. Just one Borrower being friendly to another,” stated Kers. “Though if you have an idea of where would be good for me to set up camp to not be in your way or space, I’d appreciate it.”

The offer of nothing obviously raised the Borrower’s suspicions, but followed up with a suggestion of where to live seemed to, at the very least, amuse him. He nodded and, after a moment, extended his hand for Kers to shake, which he did gladly.

“Well, I think we can agree to those terms. I can tell a liar when I hear one, and that’s not you, but don’t try anything. Got it?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” agreed Kers. With a stiff nod, the Borrower stepped to the side and gave a little gesture for Kers to follow along. It took everything in him for Kers to keep from resting his hand on his stay pin sword and his thumbtack dagger as he followed the other Borrower. He also didn’t dare ask anything too personal. This guy seemed like the type to provide essential information when the time was right.

They rounded the corner and Kers instantly spotted three other Borrowers in varying ages. The oldest was obviously late teens and shared many features with his father including those light absorbing eyes and blonde hair. The middle child was a girl who looked, to Kers, to be just a little younger or about the same age as Parker. She had dark brown hair and the same coal black eyes as her older brother. Then there was the youngest boy among them, a dark haired blue-eyed boy who was maybe eight or nine years old.

“Kids, this is Kers. My oldest, Finnick, my daughter, Sprokit, and my youngest son, Reed,” introduced the Borrower. “I’m Toulouse.”

“Nice to meet all of you,” Kers said. His insides churned nervously as he glanced at the piercing eyes of Toulouse’s children. All of them seemed to have the same ability their father had in seeing straight through someone. Perhaps it was just the color of the two eldest children’s eyes, but Kers felt like the secret of Parker would not remain so for long.

“Well, our plan was to go out and show Reed the ropes of running outside the walls, but gathering intel on this new human might be better,” pointed out Finnick, whose hand was also resting on what looked like a razor blade dagger at his hip.

“My thoughts exactly,” replied Toulouse. Reed was obviously crushed. His shoulders slumped and his features fell, but he didn’t say anything in objection. Kers didn’t know if it was because Reed wanted to behave himself and be rewarded with time outside of the walls or if he was a bit shy around strangers.

Whatever the case, Finnick gestured for Kers to follow, and so he did.

The five of them trekked through the walls, Reed stomping up the stairs from time to time to demonstrate his frustration in getting his wall trip cut short, while Toulouse followed behind. Kers almost felt like he was surrounded and being escorted to some kind of holding facility like how they did in the movies.

Kers had that privilege of watching a few movies from front to finish without Amanda and Parker noticing, and this felt like one of those movie scenes.

Up the walls. Across beams. Down some wires and then back up again.

Eventually, they made it to a section of wall that was very clearly part of the attic crawl space. It was a spot that was either segmented off from the main house or in a space that could never be reached by the residents of the house. Whatever the case, the house was made of sturdy cardboard and wood.

The windows were aglow with warm light, most likely from more fairy lights, and there was a smell of something in the air coming from the kitchen. Inside, Kers could hear someone singing softly along with coos and young giggles.

“Don’t forget to take off your shoes when you go in. Mom hates dirt in the house,” said the girl.

“Oh, right. Thanks. Sprokit, was it?” asked Kers. The girl huffed slightly as she pried off her borrowing boots and began unstrapping her gear.

“I go by Kit, actually. Dad just prefers full names for introductions,” replied Kit.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I’ll remember that,” apologized Kers.

“Don’t be rude, sis,” mumbled Reed.

“You mind your business,” Kit shot back.

One look from their father silenced their bickering as they retreated into the house. Kers noticed that none of them removed their various blades and pins as they went into the house.

Smart. They don’t trust me and are staying safe. Guess I’ll do the same.

Kers removed his shoes and walked further into the house as he heard who he presumed was the mother and wife to Toulouse address the kids. Her voice was as sweet as her singing.

“Hey there. Back so soon? Did something happen? Or did you all find what you were looking for that quick?” she asked.

“We have a guest,” Kers heard Kit say. There was a distinct inhalation before the conversation continued.

“Ah. I see. Well… I guess I need to set another bowl on the table,” she replied.

Kers glanced around the living area and caught a glimpse of the kitchen.

The place was pristine. The crochet blankets were neatly piled in the corner of the room. There was a table made of what looked like glued together playing cards and shelves made of popsicle sticks. It made where Kers used to live look like a hovel.

Still, they probably never had to move in their lives. Or, at least, they haven’t had the need to move in a while.

Lucky.

“Hi!” Kers snapped too when he felt a tug at his hip from another little Borrower child. She had blonde hair and blue eyes and a smile that stretched as wide as a jumbo rubber band. “Hi!” She must’ve been four or five years old by Kers’ estimates.

Stunned, Kers could barely manage his own, “Hello,” before spotting the baby girl’s mother. She had dark brown hair and blue eyes that were pale like glacier ice. She was wearing a skirt that fell just below her knees and an apron of sorts with various tools and threads spilling off of it.

What really caught Kers’ eyes, however, was what he noticed when she walked over to snag the Borrower child. She walked with a severe limp and the leg that poked out from under the skirt wasn’t real. It was fake.

A prosthetic – and it looked well made.

“Dove! So sorry about that,” she smiled. Kers shook his head and smiled as he looked into the woman’s features. There was so much life in her eyes, like she couldn’t be deterred from anything she set her mind to.

“No. Don’t worry about it. No harm or anything,” said Kers. “I’m Kers. Just moved in when I met the rest of your family.”

“Barely arrived,” said Toulouse as he entered the kitchen and leaned over to kiss his wife and take the baby, Dove, from her arms. “His pack is by the door.”

“Wow! So, you must’ve arrived with the new human. Yeah? The other family was here yesterday moving things around and then they were gone. Now we have a new human.

“I didn’t think humans could move so quickly. Then again, they have all of those tools and everything. Good for us. There won’t be any gap in borrowing,” she smiled. A thought must’ve dawned on her because she immediately wiped her hands on her apron and held out her hand for Kers. “Sorry. I’m Mira.”

“Nice to meet you.” The two of them shook hands before her husband cleared his throat.

“What do you need to finish lunch?” asked Toulouse. Mira gestured to the table and the stove, which looked like part of a heating element that was hooked up to electricity.

“Just your bums in the chairs and the pot on the table. I hope you don’t mind potato soup. I thought we were going to have to start rationing, so I went ahead and made a big batch to start storing,” Mira replied. “Here. I’ll get-”

“I’ve got it, mom,” said Finnick as he hoisted the pot off of the stove and set it onto the table, making sure to put it on the cloth fragment to keep from burning the table. Mira smiled and nodded as she maneuvered the youngest from one hip to the next with the smallest wince before carrying her over to the table, the rhythm of her walk showing she had experience walking with a child on her hip.

Before he knew it, Kers was sitting down at the table across from the oldest boy and beside the youngest with Toulouse immediately to his left. There was a warm bowl of soup in front of him and conversation all around.

Never before had he experienced anything like this.

A lump formed somewhere in his throat. More images flashed in front of his mind of days gone by.

Had he really been alone for so long?

“So, Kers,” said Mira as she wiped up her daughter’s face once again. “Tell us a bit about your travels. Have you always lived around this new human downstairs? Or was this a recent development?”

Just as if someone had snapped their fingers, Kers was out of his trance and in the moment once again.

“Um… I… well… I mostly moved around except for the past four years, which is when I started living in Amanda’s building. That’s the name of the human woman downstairs,” said Kers. “As for my travels… well… there’s nothing really to tell. Lived as an Outie for most of it, but lived as an Innie when I could.”

“An Outie? You mean you lived outside in the elements with the wild animals and everything?” asked the youngest, Reed. His eyes were bright with curiosity and also filled with the innocence of never being truly afraid in his life. Kers didn’t want to scare the kid but nodded simply to be polite.

Already, this was more words than he would say in a year, and he was feeling burned out from conversation. Still, he endured the further onslaught as all of the children as well as their parents asked question after question.

How long had he lived on his own?

What were his skills?

Would he be interested in helping ward off some animals trying to get into the baseboards?

Where was he thinking about setting up?

What kind of things did he need to get started?

What really started to make Kers nervous was when they began to ask about the human and her habits.

He told them everything. He told them she worked from home a lot but slept soundly through the night and generally kept to herself when she was home. The Borrower went into all of the details he could when it came to how she liked to put things into drawers and the things she would notice going missing.

“This is really good, dad,” Finnick said as he helped clear away the dishes. “We’ll be able to get everything timed to the second. It’s even better because she doesn’t have any kids.”

Kers felt his insides twist, making acid build in the back of his throat. It was like walking on pins and needles. Kers knew he needed to discuss this as soon as possible, but it didn’t stop the impending dread. Before things went any further, Kers decided to speak up.

With no real plan of attack, he took a breath and dared to begin the impossible conversation.

“Actually… she does have a kid.”

The family glanced around at him curiously before continuing their dinner clean-up.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” muttered Toulouse. “Thought we’d get a break after the last family left. No matter. We’ll be no worse for wear. We’ll just…”

“Actually,” interrupted Kers. “There’s… something about the kid that… is going to be a bit hard for you to hear.”

The room quieted as all eyes fell on Kers. It made him feel like bugs were crawling all over his skin. He hated attention, even as a child, and this was his ultimate nightmare. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he continued.

“The kid’s name is Parker. He’s a really sweet kid, but he’s a little different; especially from Amanda.” This was it. The moment of truth. “Because he’s a Borrower.”

It felt like someone set electricity into the air, charging it and making everyone’s hair stand on end. Everyone’s eyes widened to the size of human dinner plates. Expressions varied from confusion to disturbed horror and anger. It was a scene of complete and utter mortification, and Kers knew the bombardment from earlier would be nothing compared to what was in store for him.

Toulouse was on his feet in the blink of an eye as the kids retreated several steps away from the table.

“What do you mean? She… captured him?” asked Mira. Kers shook his head and took a visible breath in hopes it would deescalate the situation.

“No, I don’t think so. I honestly think that she found him and has been taking care of him for all of his life,” replied Kers. “I want to tell y-”

“You mean to tell me a human has been keeping a Borrower hostage and you’ve just watched for four years?” growled Toulouse.

“Dad… do you think he’s her pet too?” hissed Finnick as his hand now rested obviously on his hip dagger, ready to draw in an instant. The afternoon had turned from a pleasant one to one of utter chaos in a matter of seconds.

This was bad.

Kers knew he had to rise to his own defense and provide some kind of explanation. He cursed himself for not being as eloquent as his eldest brother. He continued to sit and shook his head as he said, “I’m no pet, boy. You would do well to remember that. And I can tell you I’ve wrestled with this from the first day I found them together. I’ll tell you if you’re willing to hear me out.”

The family exchanged wary glances, so Kers continued in a rapid word vomit that put teenage gossipers to shame.

“I was moving in the middle of winter from the home I was previously in. I thought I might’ve been seen and kept to the Borrower code of staying on the move. I saw them playing in the snow outside and began planning a rescue mission immediately.

“When I made it to their home, I saw them sitting together watching a movie just like any other parent and child I had seen in previous homes. She made sure he had food and they even read together that night. I had no supplies and no way to take care of him, and Parker didn’t seem like he was in any danger.

“I decided to get enough supplies to survive and then I would rescue him, but the more I watched the more I realized this kid had no idea that he was a Borrower and was happy living with his adopted mother. I’ve been watching ever since to make sure he was alright, keeping to the shadows and being ready if anything should happen.”

Kers realized how difficult it must be to hear and understand everything he was saying. He wasn’t even sure half of his words made sense. It wasn’t until he paused to take a breath that his brain registered the changing expressions on everyone’s faces.

“So… you don’t think… he knows he’s a Borrower?” asked Mira. “You don’t think that this human took him from his parents, do you?”

“No, I… I don’t think so. I hope not. She doesn’t seem like the type to…”

“To what?” interjected Finnick. “Abduct Borrower children? Keep them like pets? Pampering and feeding and taking them out for walks?”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Kit spat as she boldly pulled her blade from her side. Both parents shot their daughter a warning glance before turning back to Kers.

“Well?”

“I didn’t have to tell you any of this, but I did,” concluded Kers. “I’m telling you because I have a plan in place to talk to the kid and to Amanda.”

“You plan on telling the human about us!” roared Finnick, also drawing his blade. Kers’ heart was in his throat. He knew this wasn’t going to go well no matter what he did, and now he had disturbed this family’s peace. Guilt ridden, Kers shook his head and let his shoulders slump.

“No, I’m not; and Amanda already knows, she just doesn’t know much. All she understands is that there was a small boy no bigger than his fingers that needed her help and she gave it. She doesn’t know about Borrowers; and, if she did, Parker might’ve gone venturing into the walls to find more Borrowers – to find me. He would be asking questions,” insisted Kers.

“So, you do plan on talking to the human?” asked Mira. Kers bit his lip and nodded mechanically.

“Trust me. I’m not looking forward to it, but it needs to be done. The only one she’s going to know about is me, and it’s only for Parker’s benefit,” insisted Kers. “I swear I will not tell Amanda about any of you or your family. The only one at risk here is me.”

No one in the family looked reassured.

“What if we don’t believe you?” asked Toulouse. Kers sighed and shook his head.

“I’m not asking you to. What I am asking for is time. I plan on talking to Amanda once they’ve moved in,” said Kers. “I swear I will keep your family safe. If I had known there were going to be others living here, I would’ve talked to them long ago. That was my mistake.”

Toulouse looked to Kers and then to the rest of his family. With a wary eye and a threatening stare, Toulouse gestured to the door. It made Kers’ heart sink into his shoes.

“I think you’d better leave; and I swear if you put my family in danger, you will live to regret it.” The oath of a father’s protection was a strong one, and Kers knew it.

“I won’t put any of you in danger, you have my word. I’ll keep to the floorboards beneath the kitchen if that’s alright,” said Kers.

“It is fine,” said Toulouse.

Kers knew the time for words was gone. He stood and carefully walked back toward the door, snagging his belongings on his way out.

It was far from how he wanted his first introduction to go, but it was necessary he talk to them about this right off the bat. Kers couldn’t imagine what their reaction would have been if they found Parker all on their own.

Defeat was only one of many words expressing Kers’ emotions as he hoisted his bag onto his shoulders once more and headed out of the front door. If there was more evidence needed for him to have an honest conversation with Amanda, now would be the time. Heart heavy, he headed for the space beneath the kitchen to set down his things and, hopefully, find the words he needed to use to talk to Amanda.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Meanwhile, in the home, the Borrower family was a flurry of emotions. None of them knew whether Kers was being truthful or if they were in danger. Immediately, their father ordered them to prepare a few go bags with essentials.

While they knew running here and now would be the best option for them, they also were reluctant to leave their home so readily when Kers could have been telling the truth.

They would be ready.

They were prepared.

Nothing was going to happen; at least they hoped.

Kit, however, was very vocal about her thoughts on the matter.

“Dad, we can’t just leave him! He’s one of us! He’s a Borrower, and he’s been taken. We need to rescue him!” insisted the teen.

“Kit, we can’t risk going down there now. If Kers has a trap planned with the human and it involves that boy, we need to stay as far away from both of them as possible.” Toulouse sighed and leaned heavily against the char at the kitchen table. “I was such a fool to invite in a stranger so quickly.”

Mira stepped up beside her husband and rubbed his back with sympathetic affection.

“You didn’t know, love,” she said.

“Mom! We can’t just leave him,” argued Kit.

“We have to wait and see what’s going to happen. I know it’s hard, but we can’t go down there without a plan,” Mira said. Frustrated, Kit stormed off to her room. Finnick and Reed, who were nearby, looked at their parents anxiously.

“So, we’re just going to leave him? If we need to run?” asked Finnick. Both parent shook their head.

“No, we won’t leave him if it can be helped. We just need time to figure this thing out first. We can’t act rashly. We need to find out if Kers is telling the truth and whether this boy is in danger or not,” replied Toulouse.

Silently, he hoped his certainty came of as confidence despite how he actually felt. Both Borrower parents couldn’t imagine having any of their children taken by a human. They also couldn’t imagine what it was like for Parker growing up with a human, if that was what really had happened.

In all reality, they were unsure of whether they could help the Borrower boy Kers spoke of and doubted they would be able to stay in their home in the days to come.

Still, they held out hope.

And little did they know that their plans weren’t the only ones in affect.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue | Coming Soon

Beginning

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justcallmecj · 20 hours

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Walking AC Unit

"-It being a hot day in Twisted Wonderland, and im assuming since Y/N’s a dragon with ice magic, they probably radiate coldness so everyone’s swarming around them" Once again, courtesy of- Your Imaginary Friend on Quotev

As I've previously mentioned through out my writing, Y/N naturally produces an icy air around them. While the heat bothers them, their cold helps them to stay on the cooler side of things. One particularly hot day at NRC, the First Year Squad, whiling hanging out with you, found out that you helped them cool down by just being near. They stuck with you the rest of the day, others would soon follow suite.

"Why does it have to be soooo hooot today!?" Epel whined. He fanned his face with his hand rapidly. Ace's face was flushed red, Deuce's body slouched from exhaustion and Jack's ears drooped down as he panted lightly. Sebek said nothing, but the sweat on his forehead was easy to spot.

"I don't know man, but it's starting to kill me!" complained Ace. It was a peculiarly hot day at NRC. The sun shone brighter and hotter than it has all year, and the schools AC system did nothing to stop the students from overheating. Even the teachers couldn't really teach during class because of the heat.

Jack decided to speak. "Man, things were bad enough this morning, but everything got worse after that, even at the end of the school day. It's hotter than Savanaclaw out here, and that's saying something. His tail wagged behind him in an attempt to cool off.

"I don't know what you humans are talking about! This weather is nothing! I don't feel a thing!" Even the heat couldn't stop Sebek from yelling. "Shut up, Sebek!" the other boys said in unison. That was enough to convince Sebek to quiet down. Deuce turned around and spotted someone familiar.

"Hey guys, look, it's Y/N." he said as he pointed at the tall dragon heading their way. Everyone else turned to face You. You walked towards them pretty quickly, it was kinda scary from their point of view.

"Are you guys heating to death right now!?" you asked. Your voice had a hint of exhaustion in it. The others groaned in confirmation. You nodded your head in understanding. Ace eyed you up and down, his face changed to look confused.

"You don't even look hot, Y/N. Do you even got hot? Being an ice dragon and all." You paused. It was a question you've been asked before, and were tired of hearing. You looked at him with a strained, open smile and close eyes. Your fangs glinted off the light of the sun. It sent a shiver down his spine. Behind him, Epel let out a quiet gasp. He's known you long enough to know about you and heat.

"Yes, Ace. I am an ice dragon. Despite that, even a little bit of heat can effect me. Ice dragons just don't sweat. I feel like I'm dying." you told him with a dangerous edge in your voice. He backed off. Epel decided to ask how you were staying cool enough not pass out. You pointed at the medium sized bag that sat across your chest.

"I bought this at Sam's shop. He knew I was coming and had it ready for me. It's enchanted and creates ice in its pockets. When I get to hot from the heat, I just take out a piece of ice-" you grabbed one for a demonstration. "-and plop in into my mouth and eat it." The ice fell in your mouth and crunched as you chewed it. "The extra ice in my body allows me to cool down and my icy mist gets colder." You could already feel the effects.

"That's actually pretty neat, that's all it really takes for you to control your body temperature." Deuce said with his chin in his hand as he looked at you. The others nodded in agreement.

"WOAH, WAIT!!" Ace yelped. Everyone turned to him. He was patting his face and neck frantically. "How in the world?!". He looked genuinely confused and shocked. Deuce placed his hand on Ace's shoulder.

"Dude, what's wrong? What's got you so riled up?" Deuce asked. Ace looked at Deuce and pointed at his face. "I don't feel hot anymore!! I've stopped sweating too!!" he exclaimed. We all took a closer look at him. He was right, his face even lost the red it was once covered in and no sweat could be seen. Everyone else started patting themselves down to find that they weren't hot anymore either. Epel stopped and stared at you.

"Y/N, you said that you create a cold mist around you, right?" You nodded. "It must be that then! You're mist is cooling us down, just like it does to you!". You thought for a moment, soon coming to the same thought process as Epel. "You're right, it's actually not the first time it's happened. I just didn't think about it before this.", you said as your wings opened. If your friends were really benefiting from your presence, might as well help them out a bit more with more mist.

"Now that I look more, I can see the mist around you." Jack said. "It's faint, but there." His beast-man eyes helped him out.

"That's great!!!" cheered a new voice. Cater came out of no where and jumped onto your back, clearly not thinking. He immediately regretted his decision as he felt your cold scales send a jolt of freezing cold up his arms and through his body. He backed off and took to standing under your open right wing. "Now I have a way to keep cool from this blistering heat." he said with a dramatic twang in his words.

For the rest of the afternoon, Ace, Deuce, Epel, Jack, Sebek and Cater stuck with you like they were attached to your hip. It was annoying at first, but you quickly adjusted and didn't mind the company in the end. You all found a large, shady tree to sit under. They snuggled up close to you while you sat with your back to the tree. Apparently, being outside now meant they didn't mind the freezing of your scales. Epel sat between your legs, Jack and Cater on your right side laying in your lap. Deuce and Ace sat on your left with Ace's head on your shoulder and Deuce nudging into your side. Sebek, grudgingly, placed his head against you thigh.

Cater took out his phone and snapped a picture of you all together. You only managed to get a glimpse of the caption he posted with the picture. Staying cool w/ the first years! #Y/NIsThePerfectACForTheHotDay! You decided to ignore it and just let him do his thing. You know how Cater can be at times. Nothing happened for a while, that is until you got some extra guests.

Leona and Ruggie found you all. With no words, Leona joined the group and quickly fell asleep. Ruggie joined as well and told you that he and Leona had seen Cater's Magicam post and just had to get in on the action.

Soon, even more of your friends came by. Kalim, who was followed by Jamil, came and both found a snug place right under your right wing. Jade, Floyd and Azul found you eventually. Floyd got as close as he could and Jade sat next to him, Azul found a comfy spot between the Twins. Rook plopped down from the actual tree and laid in the grass next to your tail.

Riddle and Trey had actually accidentally stumbled upon your dog pile of boys. They found spots under your left wing. Ortho saw Cater's post and dragged Idia by the collar and forced him to come as well. Idia kept a distance at first but fell asleep and Ortho pushed him closer. Vil was reluctant but Rook convinced him to lay down. Later came Lilia, with Silver sluggishly in tow. Silver passed out immediately after finding a spot in your lap (if anyone could still fit honestly). Lilia climbed the tree and found a low hanging branch where he decided to take a nap upside down. Malleus, who was right behind Lilia and Silver, sat next to you and he revealed his tail. He intertwined yours and his tail with a smile.

Eventually, you were the only one awake. The heat of the day left everyone exhausted. Much to your surprise, all the boys covering you didn't make the heat worse. Just in case though you ate a piece of ice. The mist got colder and everyone seemed to get a bit more comfortable. You stretched your wings our further and made sure to cover those you could reach. You felt your own exhaustion start to take over and your eyelids fluttered open and shut. Content with the people you cared about surrounding you, you gave into the desire to sleep, happy with where you were at.

(I loved the idea of you and all the boys sitting under a tree with your wings spread across everyone! Fun fact: After this hot day, Professor Oski (refer back to First Day of School chapter) taught you how to use the personal snow cloud spell. It helped from this incident happening again.)

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ice dragon!reader #justcallmecj fics

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habibi-bambi · 2 days

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The Fall of The First Man [ADAM]

Adam dies,,, but the story does not end.

PART ONE.

“Nifty?!”

Charlie and her father had won the battle when Lucifer had defeated Adam by beating him up to a complete pulp with nothing but mischief and bare hands. No angelic powers, or devil powers. Just bare hands and the fury of a dad reigning hell on the scum who dared to hurt his daughter. Just when he was about to use his powers and end the First Man for good, Charlie intervened. Adam would deserve it but there was no need for further violence and death. They had won, and if her dad killed the guy, it could escalate the fighting between Heaven and Hell which was the last thing Charlie wanted.

And then Nifty, who had appeared out of nowhere, grinned like a maniac and let out a deranged laugh as she kept stabbing Adam “Blood!”

Everybody was staring in complete silence. Completely dumbfounded and stunned, all except Vaggie who was smiling with joy as if it was Charlie’s anniversary present for her. Nifty then returned to looking like an innocent, sweet dwarf sinner and merrily hopped to the ground as if she hadn’t murdered the leader of the murdering angel bastards who terrorized the Pride Ring for thousands of years.

“No!”

Right on time because Adam’s lieutenant rushed to the first man. She was all bruised and injured, with one arm torn. She bled gold blood, but she didn’t care as she fell to her knees and cried. Turning the first man over, she cried.

“Sir?! Sir!”

Adam looked at the furious red sky of Hell. It was ugly as fuck. The only beautiful looking thing in this shithole was the sight of Heaven. He could feel his strength and lifeforce draining away. Lute came over him, crying and screaming. Silly girl, wasn’t she already too big and strong to weep like a baby? She’ll be fine, Adam knows it.

Adam was going to die.

Fucking finally, was all he could think of.

He let out the smallest briefest sigh.

What was that saying again? The one from the Harry Potter books? Ah, yes.

Death is just another great adventure, one that Adam would happily welcome because honestly? He was waaayyy to old and tired of this shit. And Heaven is just way too fucking- Heaven, for him.

“Sir, Stay with me!” Life fades away and leaves behind dull, gold eyes.

Adam smiles peacefully.

“NO! ADAM!”

From the dust and dirt of the earth you were made of.

To the dust and dirt of the earth you will return.

In the beginning, on the ‘Sixth Day’ of Creation, Man and Woman had been created by God. He created them with the rich and blessed earth from the paradise on Earth, the Garden of Eden. God then sculpted the dirt into a shape, one that was beautiful and wonderful, because humans were to be created after God’s image.

When he was all said and done, the Creator of everything then split the shape into two. One was a ‘man’, and the other was a ‘woman’.

God breathed life, and from then on, ‘Adam’ and ‘Lilith’ came to life.

Lilith eventually left and was replaced with Eve, but that was a story for another time.

All that was important was that Adam knew he was created from the dust and dirt of the greatest paradise on earth. Adam also knew, and had expected, that he would return to the earth when his time had come.

It had been 300,000 years ago since he was made. He died nine hundred years later after his creation, and ascended to Heaven. 50,000 years before now, he became the leader and head of the Exorcists and would come down to Hell’s Pride Ring every year on the eve of Jesus Christ’s birth to kill every sinner they could find. From day one, Adam had been obedient and loyal to God and to Heaven. From day one, Adam had been a faithful servant. From fucking day one, Adam had done nothing but did everything for God and Heaven.

He died from some fucking coward sinner. It was surely a no-name sinner, all of them were lowly scums who deserved to rot. But angelic steel is angelic steel. He might be Adam the First Man, but he was stabbed by some psycho from the back over and over. The knife went past his chest. It was the end. Pathetic, yes.

But it was an end.

His end.

He should be fucking dead.

So why the fuck isn’t he dead?

Lucifer Morningstar lets his daughters and her sinners go to the ruins of her hotel, and stays behind to watch the sobbing exorcist hunched over the corpse of Adam.

He was keeping watch, to make sure no crazy bitch tries anything funny. That was all. There totally wasn’t a small part of him waiting for the angel to just fuck off to heaven like the rest of the other exorcists did so he could come close to the corpse of Adam.

Yup. Totally keeping a close eye on that angel for his daughter. It was totally just Lucifer keeping watch to make sure the angel finally leaves! Why the fuck would he want to see Adam? The First Man was dead, and good fucking riddance!

His tail flickered and snapped to the ground in impatience. A vein popping from annoyance.

…Just how long is that angel going to keep crying like a baby and fuck off to Heaven? For fucks sake, it been almost an hour already! It’s surprising that a woman would actually cry over Adam (Adam no bitches, ha!) but Lucifer just wants her to be gone already. God, what a stupid bitch, crying over a man like Adam. His eyes narrowed at the albino angel. Look at her, looking like some poor wife whose husband was just murdered in front of her. He could puke. If she doesn’t fly up to Heaven, Lucifer’s going to send her to where her precious ‘Sir Adam’ is-!

! Lucifer’s train of thought is stopped suddenly when he hears a quiet, but sharp inhale for air.

“S-Sir?”

He looks over in confusion, and then shock.

Adam sits up. His big gold wings twitching weakly at his side. There was gold blood everywhere. Holy blood of the angels who served God and Heaven faithfully. It was fucking everywhere.

And Adam… was still alive? Lucifer’s red eyes zeroed on where Charlie’s little crazy sinner had went all crazy on Adam.

There was nothing but a scar.

Huh.

Seems like no matter how garbage Adam had become, he was still Father’s most beloved human.

“Adam! Sir! Your alive, thank fucking god!” The exorcist that was by Adam’s side let out a big sigh of relief. Gold eyes lit up in joy.

Adam ignored her though, terribly rude that man (no fucking surprise, this was Adam after all) just to look at Lucifer dead straight in the eyes.

“Stay there Lute. I need to have a chat with this God Damned asshole real quick.”

Blessed gold eyes of an angel at Damned red eyes of the Devil.

(bright brown eyes of Man meeting twinkling gold eyes of the Morningstar.)

Adam stood up. He was a big guy, and Lucifer was as short as ever. So if if it were anyone else, the sight of Adam hulking over them in fury would make any sinner tremble and bolt away. But not Lucifer, whose eyes never strayed away from Adam.

He could see how Adam was still weak and vulnerable despite having a divine intervention equivalent to a bandaid slapped on him by God.

“I’m surprised you could survive that, Adam.” Lucifer says, smiling coldly. His red eyes were sharp, but he stayed at ease and unwary as Adam the First Man approached him, ignoring his lieutenant for Lucifer “But I guess you could survive anything if you are God’s ‘perfect’ creation.”

“You fucking asshole…!”

Lucifer wasn’t surprised when Adam grabbed ahold of his collar with his one hand to pull him closer and pulled the other hand to punch him

(If Adam wants another round of being a loser, then Lucifer will give him one. He always strived to give what Adam asked for after all, lol.)

Adam gritted his teeth, his hands shaking. His every cell in his body aching to fucking rip the head of this smug asshole who ruined his life and the entire humanity, and just beat up the headless body to the ground.

But killing Lucifer was his second greatest wish. What he really wanted was-

“Kill me.”

Cricket Noise.

Lucifer stared at him as if he lost his mind,

“Adam what the fuck???”

“The fuck?” Lucifer’s smarmy smug smile was gone, and stared at Adam with big wide eyes, his red slit pupils becoming round again from how he was taken aback by Adam’s sudden loss of sanity “Are you okay? Did that munchkin sinner also hit your head or did Dad whacked your head so hard from healing you that you suddenly lost sense?”

“I’m serious, Lucifer. Kill me. Do whatever you want with me. Just make it quick, because you owe me you asshole. Kill me and let’s be done with it. Hurry the fuck up Lucifer. It shouldn’t be a problem for you since your the Devil and you hate my guts, so just fucking do it already you goddamn asshole!”

Adam was yelling and shaking Lucifer so hard, his voice growing louder and louder. Growing more manic and desperate as he tugged Lucifer back and forth. Adam roared “LUCIFER!-” but was cut off.

Lucifer pulled Adam’s hands off him easily, and instead, gave him a slap so hard it would leave a mark.

Adam was stunned to silence, face still turned to the side. A red slapmark bright on his face, with four gold scratches that were left behind by Lucifer’s claws.

Good.

A slap that hard and painful should be enough to put some sense back to him!

“Adam! What has gotten into you?!” Lucifer snapped.

The angel, Lute (a name he would continue on ignoring and forgetting as the woman herself) steps forward to pull Adam back, who only shook her hand off and grabbed Lucifer’s wrist.

Adam’s hand was much bigger than Lucifer’s thigh, so his wrist was easily wrapped around as if Adam was just holding a stick. A pasty, white pale stick.

If Lucifer wasn’t who he was, and if only Adam could, Adam would have snapped the wrist in his hand a long time ago.

“I’ve been stabbed to death by a psycho sinner of yours, Lucifer. Why the fuck am I still alive?!”

“Not my fault, Adam! That would be God’s and Heaven’s or a You Fault!” Lucifer pulled his hand away, shaking his hand as if Adam really did hurt him “For fucks sake, one would think you’d be thankful and swear revenge on us or some shit, instead of this crazy crap your pulling on me right now.”

“Kill me!” Crazy Adam yelled.

“Get a fucking grip, Adam!” Lucifer yelled back, pushing Adam from him “I am not doing that!”

“Of course you wouldn’t help me out. Of course. You’re Lucifer. A fucking asshole who hates me to the core. You'd rather have me suffer eternity than kill me! God, you are such a fucking asshole! You wife-stealing, garden killing, God damned devil asshole!” The look of rage and insanity in Adam’s eyes with his words made Lucifer flinch “You ruined my life. You ruined humanity. You ruined Eden! You owe me Lucifer! You fucking owe me but once again, you proved yourself to be the same fucking asshole who can’t do anything right! FUCK YOU LUCIFER!” Adam screamed.

Adam stepped back, and stopped looking at Lucifer and instead, at his own hands. A haunted look in his eyes and a look of horror on his face.

"Three hundred thousand years.” Adam whispered, staring at his shaking hands “I’ve been alive and existing for three hundred thousand years since God created me and Lilith-” Lucifer flinched at the mention of of his estranged wife “and I’m still not dead. Why am I not fucking dead?”

“shit.” Lute cursed quietly, eyes focused on her leader and the shitshow was happening. She looked around, and it was still only them. But that will not last for long “Sir, we have to go. Heaven is calling us back.”

“Shut the fuck up, birdbrain. Can’t you see he’s having a breakdown? I don’t know what’s his problem but help for fucksss sssake!” Lucifer says, angry.

“I’m trying!” Lute snapped back at the King of Hell. Lucifer Bristled at the rude impertinent useless wench for having the gall-!

“I’ve spent my entire fucking life, afterlife included, being good and obedient and all that shit for God and Heaven. I listened to every single fucking thing they said, and did whatever I was asked to do! I did nothing wrong! Even when I have to be responsible of shit, of garbage, that wasn’t mine to be taken care of, I still did it. Because it was asked of me!”

Adam stepped away from Lute’s carefully reaching hands, far away he stumbled on a broken construction of the Hazbin Hotel, and he leaned against it. Hunching over, his wings drawing closer to him, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“I did nothing wrong. I did everything right. Everything they asked me. Everything.” was all Adam said, losing more sense and becoming more emotional and irrational in his grief “Why am I still alive?”

Adam looked up at the shy. Up at Heaven. He looked up and hoped that the goddamn Big G was up there wand listening to him at this very moment.

“I did everything you wanted me to do. I did everything for Heaven. I was a faithful and obedient servant of yours. So fucking tell me why in the fucking Lucifer shitstained face did you bring me back you b-” Lucifer’s eyes went wide at Adam finally losing all sanity. Did this idiot want to Fall? He was definitely going to Fall with how he was cursing God “I’ve done EVERYTHING! I’VE BEEN PATIENT AND STEADFAST AND STEADY IN MY FAITH AND SERVICE. I DID ALL THAT WAS ASKED OF ME SO WHY DID YOU BRING ME BACK?! WHY WHY WHY WHY-”

Adam collapsed on his knees.

“Just let me return to dust and be at fucking peace, please…” Adam dropped his face in his hands. A small muffled sob escaped. He looked small and weak. Pathetic.

He looked miserable.

Lucifer feels a discomfort in his heart at the sight. He tries to swallow the hard lump in his throat.

And then Heaven’s light reached down to Hell and touched where Adam was kneeling. Gold, holy divine light that would turn any sinner and overlord and Sins to ash, and give Lucifer a big fucking nasty ass burns if the light were on them.

That wasn’t just Heaven.

That was God.

(Fucking hell. You ignore your black sheep of a son who tries to talk to you for thousands of years , but you respond to the crazy mental breakdown of Adam at once? Way to make your favoritism obvious, Dad!)

Adam’s eyes are big and round glimmering gold in that light.

“IT IS NOT YOUR TIME YET, ADAM. LIVE.”

And the light fades away, leaving behind a dead-eyed, empty looking son of a bitch who has gone all lifeless and colorless.

“Adam?” Lucifer hesitantly reaches out, concerned.

Lute steps in front of the King of Hell with a steely look in her puffy, red rimmed eyes. She looked pathetic with her wounds and one arm missing. But despite her sorry appearance, she was still blocking Lucifer from Adam.

“Lute, stop fucking asking for a quick death by pissing off the shitty Devil and lets fucking go.”

“Wait, Adam-”

“I have nothing to say to you other than your a fucking useless asshole. I hope I never see your ugly face again.” Adam says.

With that, Adam then just ignores him as if he’s wind, and with Lute’s aid, flies back up to the portal to Heaven.

Leaving Lucifer looking up at the sky where the portal Adam had been with a strange knotted feeling in his chest. His hands were curled tight and shaking.

What... What had just happened?

PART ONE END.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #ao3 fanfic in the process #my writing #also #adamcore #adam headcanons #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar #lucifer x adam #adamsapple #guitarapple

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rosenfey · 3 days

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⊱ tagged by @thanekrios to recommend some books! I've been back to reading since last winter and it brings me so much joy so I'd absolutely love to talk more about books! ☕🌸

1. — the last book I read:

GRIEF IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS by Max Porter. I just love Max Porter's writing style. It's unlike anything I've ever read before. The way he manages to capture some of the deepest, most confusing human emotions in such a succinct way without making them sound too saccharine is incredible.

2. — a book i recommend:

HOLLOW PLACES by Christopher Hadley. This is my favourite book of all time. I used to sleep with it next to my pillow so the cover is crooked and worn and i love it so much. It's a non-fiction exploration about the life of a medieval legend, how it shaped through the years and affected people around it. It's very much an essay on human memory and culture and our desire to tell stories, inadvertently leaving pieces of ourselves in the narrative as we go. It's beautiful, it's touching, it's incredibly entertaining to read, and it makes me feel so much love inside. As someone who studied folklore and religion in university it is deeply personal for me to visit all the castle ruins and other places people from the past lived in. It's a way to connect with them and to see that even though we are so incredibly different, we are also incredibly similar in some aspects. And this book captures that so well.

3. — a book that i couldn’t put down:

LANNY by Max Porter. Another fave from Max Porter. It's about this sleepy village and the eldritch horror forest being that stalks it and a little boy that is very much very strange. It's also a social commentary and an essay on environmental mindfulness. And it's incredible. I finished it in two days.

4. — a book i’ve read twice (or more):

WITCHES ABROAD by Terry Pratchett. This is where I come out as a Discworld fan. They were a huge part of my childhood and I remember especially loving the books about wizards and the witches. This one was definitely my fave and I did read it basically in one day when I read it for the first time. And I loved it so much I came back to it.

5. — a book on my tbr:

There are literally so many (I have a hoarding problem). But the most recent ones are: The Land of Maybe by Tim Ecott and Master and Margarita.

6. — a book i’ve put down:

The Witcher series... The writing style is really not for me and the plot (and the blatant sexism and male fantasy type of storytelling) lost me after the 5th book (sorry).

7. — a book on my wishlist:

Again, so many. I literally have two excel spreadsheets for my wishlisted books and it's getting out of hand. But the one I am especially keen on getting is A Natural History of Fairies, a beautifully illustrated little guide on fairy folklore.

8. — a favorite book from childhood:

REAPER MAN by Terry Pratchett. I used to be terrified of death when I was a kid. I still am but now I at least know he loves cats, has a horse called Binky, and supports labor workers.

9. — a book you would give to a friend:

WEIRD MEDIEVAL GUYS by Olivia Swarthout. If you are my friend then you know that I am absolutely normal (read "insane") about marginalia art. And this book has some of the silliest ones available for your thine pleasure (I would not want to fuck with a rabbit that has a bomb. Or a cat with a massive club. Or the snail with those grabby hands. Like nu-uh. They would grab me. With their hands. Cuz. Ya know... we still friends right???)

10. — a book of poetry or lyrics you own:

KYTICE by Karel Erben. Okay this is me being Slavic but also not generally into poetry much (as in I don't collect poetry books) but. I adore Kytice. It's a collection of ballads that center around monsters from slavic mythology (eat it witcher I mean I am sorry I just don't like the witcher please don't leave me come back I swear I am more than just a hater listen to me baby give me a chance) and they range from brutally sad to tragic to super gruesome and gory (okay most of them are pretty gory. but in a poetic way). Anyway I am not sure if they were translated to English yet but there is a movie and hopefully that one has subtitles (if not I am gonna learn how to make subtitles because I need people to see it).

11. — a non-fiction book you own:

DON'T TELL MY HORSE by Zora Neale Hurston. Because we need to mention more classical works by people of color. This is basically an anthropological view on the Haitian + Jamaican voodoo beliefs and it's so incredibly intricate and interesting to read I recommend it to anyone who is interested in the subject or just wants to broaden their range of classical literature.

12. — what are you currently reading:

Alice in Wonderland. I got the prettiest edition for my birthday so I am revisiting my childhood. :3

13. — what are you planning on reading next:

The Land of Maybe by Tim Ecott. It's a book about the slow life and nature of the Faroe Islands which is where I am staying at currently!

⊱ tagging (I am not sure who exactly reads from my mutuals so I will be using my regular tag list, feel free to ignore <3):

@hibernationsuit﹒@lavampira﹒@euryalex﹒@starforger﹒@pawnguild

@florbelles﹒@baldurians﹒@archonfurina﹒@dekarios

@inafieldofdaisies﹒@feykiller﹒@zahra-hydris﹒@noughtomaton﹒@corvus-rose

@ferwynter﹒@thefrostyshepard﹒@melancholicrainstorm﹒@sylvthara﹒@katsigian

@rindemption﹒@juniemoe﹒@eldensrings﹒@claudiawolf﹒@therapyvibes

@sibeal﹒@epheyang﹒@lotusfaebell﹒@ravensgard﹒@princessmelinoe

@lutebard﹒@nokstella﹒@pavus﹒@gothimp﹒and you ♡ — (un)like this post to be added / removed.

#ambie got tagged #sorry for the long post i just love books gngngn

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janiedean · 3 days

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i have seen people claim that the situation with brienne will be the thing that pushes jaime back to cersei. also I have seen people compare what brienne is going through with stoneheart to what jaime went through with aerys and saying brienne may need to put her down

I am the second people and not the first people but like….

I don’t wanna sound rude or anything but with this fandom I feel like no one grasps the point of occam’s razor like sorry but

- jaime spends affc getting progressively away from cers and burns her letter at the end when in agot he’d have dropped everything to run there

- jaime in adwd barely thinks about her and goes like eh ig i’ll have to see her again ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and runs off with brienne

- as i am people 2… listen brienne is having the EXACT same aerys situation except worse because like aerys always was a pos and jaime hated him for two years and never gaf about him beyond he’s the king, cat was literally the first woman to treat brienne properly and like a human being and like she RESPECTED her and trusting her with being her liege lady and gave her her first knight job so to speak, also cat was a generally nice person (OVERALL the jon thing doesn’t count but to brienne cat was a good thing) and became a zombie after being horrifically murdered like….. sorry but brienne having to murder her former liege lady gone mad out of grief because she’s out of control and is killing innocents when she cares about cat and knows she was a good person before is like…. kind of hitting worse than killing a guy whom you’ve hated for two years and gave you trauma you know

- also like everyone is conveniently glossing over the fact that brienne would have rather died than killed jaime on cat’s orders and only agreed to it bc she didnt wanna drag two innocent ppl in it but like sorry i think the above + your crazy liege lady wanting to kill the man you love who is also fulfilling a vow to HER together with you is a mindfuck

- also everyone conveniently glosses over the fact that what fucked jaime for good was people not even asking why he killed aerys and deciding he was a pos not the actual killing

- so like…… let’s say jaime from adwd with all the char development finds out that brienne almost died for him (if someone from the brotherhood doesn’t tell him she screamed his name at night i’ll be surprised) and sees her kill cat in front of him BECAUSE she doesn’t want him to die and only dragged him there to save two innocent people

- that’s a jaime who has OBVIOUSLY done some self reflection in the last two books and actually sounded his age in the povs or at least not like he was stuck at 17

- at this point he either could see brienne going through the aeryslike ordeal that HE went through (and is therefore in a position to help her that NO ONE ELSE HAS bc HE knows how it feels that’s it), he’d know that it was for HIM (doubt he has a line of ppl around who are willing to die for him and go as far as almost getting hanged) and he’d see it happen to someone he considers a true knight and HIS protector (like i can go off on that for a year but nvm it now). he’s this close to figure out he wants her to make a honest man out of him…. and THAT could tip him off, AND he could help her not turn into a bitter cynic the way he did, and they could get closer and he could see that the person who saved his ass and looked out for him when they didnt even like each other actually WENT THROUGH IT for him so much she WENT AGAINST HER VOWS when it was the most important thing in the world to her AND at that point they could figure out together that vows should be taken sparsely and meaningfully AND they could fulfill theirs to cat together in her memory…..

- or he can get pissed off and go back to cersei when like he DIDNT fuck off when everyone he’s known for his entire life failed him and that was never enough to make him say well fuck you i’m not coming back until he learned cers cheated on him

like………… if thematically the first one doesn’t seem to people like the most sensed outcome of everything jaime has done since now and of his arc so far okay but then idk what to tell them because at this point is shooting at the red cross as we say here

and anyway without going into that whole bullshit: at the last adwd chapter when cers and kevan talk and she asks where jaime is and dismisses that he’d ever go with brienne over her…. she says he’s been missing for WEEKS and the riverlands aren’t the wall, if he wanted to go back to cers after brienne’s supposed betrayal he’d have been back in camp already and if he had been dead people would have known at that point so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ if people want to do the math without counting that stuff in their prerogative but like idg the point of denying the obvious at this rate

#ask post #megashadowdragon #jaime x brienne #anti-jaime x cersei #anti-lannincest #anti-cersei lannister #anti cersei lannister #like my people i don't give a damn about jon*rys and ik it'll be somewhat canon at this rate #but like do y'all see me grasping at straws to justify it not happening no #queue of the beam

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ma-ri-yana · 3 days

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Castaways

A/n: helloooo. Thank you once again for checking this out! As usual, I hope you enjoy and have a great day :D lmaooo I almost forgot to add chapter links.

Warnings: a little bit of cannibalism because the ghouls have to eat sometimes.

Brief summary: you are an alien on your way to visit another planet when your space ship is attacked and you crash land on Earth. The Ghoul is hunting down his next pay check and finds you. The story is set thirty years before season one.

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6

You’d made it out of Wyoming after a few days and travelled along the border of what used to be North and South Dakota. Along the way, you’d encountered a few raiders and cannibals, some other bounty hunters still trying to cash in on Elena Zakharova’s person; but you didn’t really have to lift a finger, the guys had you covered on that front. That was mainly because your brothers felt it necessary to “keep you out of the way” so you wouldn’t stop them from outright killing people. The way you did that night when you had pressured them to welcome the two irradiated humans into your group. Your brothers and the ghouls made sure to aim for the head whenever an attack occurred to prevent you from getting any ideas about helping the aggressors. It was just another way they held you back from your “naivety” as James liked to call it.

You weren’t going to lie and say you were okay with all the death that seemed to drown you. You’d argued with them tirelessly; worried they were giving up their morals and ideals. Maybe they weren’t as attached to them as you were. It bothered you that the simple change of location was enough for them to drop their principles. The things they were taught, the things they grew up valuing. If you were to think back to the comfort of your own home, a place where rules existed and society felt obliged to assist one another —to an extent—, you would not have dreamt of even holding a conversation with a murderer. Yet here you were, travelling with and trusting your life to four of them. Maybe you were too harsh in your train of thought. Too judgemental. You weren’t home, after all. You were stranded on a planet over a hundred light years away with no way to communicate with your people without giving away your location and risking your lives. You had to understand, to some extent, that you were all doing your best, even if you didn’t agree with the methods.

You bit your lip as you continued to ponder, walking along the sandy landscape. It seemed all the fighting brought the men together because the further along the wasteland you all travelled, the friendlier they were to each other. They even joked about their kills. It made your face twitch in irritation. You’d expected it from the humans, but not your brothers. They were raised differently. It must’ve been some kind of a trauma bond kind of thing. Or maybe it was simply your brothers finally coming to terms with your situation and letting go to their circumstances. More so Nikkand’r than Dimiil. Dimiil always held himself up to some kind of standard of decorum, even if this situation was unbecoming of him.

The terrain of the Earth that you’d gotten to see so far was… boring. At least in comparison to your home planet. But you still marvelled at it as you passed. You found a lot of the mutations to be gross, you weren’t going to lie, the grossest being rad roaches, of course. You squirmed every time they came into your view. They’d always laugh at you for it. Well, they all did, except for the Ghoul. That man always looked out for you. He’d immediately shoot and kill them the moment he’d caught them in his line of vision. Luckily, because of this, you didn’t see them as often as any normal human who’d lived in the wasteland would have. And while you weren’t a fan of death, you also weren’t a fan of being eaten by those things. For all the judgement you passed along to your companions, maybe you weren’t any better than them.

Neither of you had spoken about the moment you’d shared in the lab, the one where you’d almost kissed. But the two of you seemed to have an understanding of sorts, of how much you cared for one another. You didn’t need to talk about it because he showed you with his actions. The way he protected you from everything; not to the point where you were left ignorant to the world around you, but he comforted you when you felt uneasy. He knew he wouldn’t be doing you any favours by shutting the world away from you, but he always made it known he’d be there for you. He knew you were a pacifist, and while he didn’t hide you from the violence this world forced onto its people, he made sure you wouldn’t have to act as a result of the violence. He knew you wished to help people and he didn’t necessarily get in your way, but he made it known to you after some time that he wouldn’t outwardly assist by working on the people himself. He’d advise you against it, as the rest of the group did, but he wouldn’t stop you the way they did. The two of you had a deep, mutual respect of one another. He felt as if you connected him to the man he used to be before the Great War and shortly after. Back when he wasn’t so jaded.

When he and James had left for the younger ghoul’s ranch for the horses, he had picked a white one for you. It was very rare to find a spotless, white horse, especially in the new world. But the moment he laid his eyes on it, he thought of you. You were too chicken to ride her on your own, of course, so he let you ride with him. But you kept the horse with you and cared for her anyway. Since you weren’t riding her yourself, everyone loaded their items on her, naturally. When he’d brought the horse to you, you pointed out how the life forms on Earth seemed so mundane and expressed how much you loved that. The Ghoul chuckled to himself because he knew that was far from true and that it was just another one of those things you’d learn sooner or later on your journey. Anything on this planet was far from mundane.

You were halfway across the state when you came across what used to be the Standing Rock Reservation. He told you all to remain cautious and do that “x-ray thang” with your eyes as your horses threaded through the reservation carefully. Luckily, the area seemed as though it had been abandoned. At least for the first hour or so of passing through.

That was when you heard it, the sound of a child crying. Your brothers caught it when you did too but the two humans couldn’t. It was too far and quiet for their ears to register the noise. You looked around but couldn’t see anything. You instructed the Ghoul to have the horse continue walking in the direction you heard it coming from. He expressed his confusion and you just told him to trust you. He nodded and directed the horse towards the path you’d pointed out to him. The rest of the group followed scrupulously. They didn’t have to be too cautious, the area wasn’t heavily wooded, but that didn’t mean the creatures in the place couldn’t hide anywhere, either. Between the few trees that populated the area and the giant hills and mountains here and there, there was always room for some human interaction that could range from somewhat positive to downright abysmal.

“Stop,” Dimiil commanded, you let out a sigh in annoyance as a result. “It’s an ambush.”

“So what? You’re gonna let that kid get killed?”

“Better her than us,” Nikk scoffed.

“Sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?” The older bounty hunter turned his head to look at you as best as he could.

“I take it your sweetheart is gon’ get us killed with that lil’ nice girl act she’s got goin’ on, that’s what,” James pulled out a cigarette to smoke. “Ain’t that right, sweetie?”

“Darlin’, we can’t go ‘round savin’ everybody… You’re askin’ us to get in a whole lotta trouble for what—“

“Incoming,” Dim announced, putting up the forcefield the aliens had used on them when they first encountered the very humans they travelled with. A considerably large bullet shell bounced off the barrier.

“See what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, hon?”

“I got this,” James announced, pulling out his pistol and pointing it at one of the natives he’d seen running in between one of the scarce trees.

“No! Nononono!” You and your fellow aliens yelled in unison to no avail, the human had already fired a shot. He had aimed at your attackers but the bullet simply hit the barricade and ricocheted back in their direction.

They moved out of the way as quickly as possible but James took a hit to the shoulder. He didn’t seem too phased by the pain and simply took out one of the chems you’d prepared for him out of his pocket and plopped it into his mouth, “I’m gon’ need some more of these later, girlie.”

“Do not, I repeat, do not shoot at them while this,” Nikk pointed at the forcefield, “is up. Or you will fuck us.”

“Well, I say to hell with that thang and let’s kill us some smoothies. I’m hungry,” James twirled his pistol by the trigger circle in his index finger. The motion—and his words—made you feel uneasy.

“We will not kill anyone,” you protested as more bullets bounced off your invisible wall.

“They’re shootin’ at us!”

“We’ll be fi—“

“Enough. We’ll take care of this,” Dimiil nodded at the two humans. He then turned his head toward you. “You can stay and take care of the horses.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you crossed your arms. “You’re just gonna have me sit here while you fuckers destroy an entire village?”

Dim and Nikk turned their heads and nodded at each other, “yes,” the eldest alien answered calmly. “Unless you’re willing to partake?”

You grumbled and looked away, focusing your eyes on yet another native that shot at the forcefield that shielded you all, “I will not.”

“Okay then. You can stay here.”

“Can’t we just… go through?”

“You know very well this doesn’t last long,” Nikk answered telepathically, not wanting to risk anyone having that information. Not the ghouls and definitely not the humans shooting at you. While you knew no one understood your native tongue, there was no guarantee in your minds that you were entirely safe to freely speak your thoughts.

You sighed, “fine. But promise me she’ll be safe.”

“Girl, for all you know, they could be usin’ her as bait for suckers like you. She’ll turn on us the moment she sees her friends are dead,” James spat his excess saliva on the ground.

“How could you be certain?”

“I can’t. But I ain’t gon’ risk it for the sake of your little experiment,” he shrugged. “We goin’ or what?”

You stayed quiet as the older bounty hunter jumped off his horse and helped you down. He ruffled the top of your head, messing with your disguised hair. “I’m sorry, bunny, I can’t promise you nothin’…”

You fixed the hair that framed your face, tucking a big strand of hair behind your ear as you looked away from him. “Yeah yeah,” you muttered.

“Thank about it, sweetheart, the more mouths we gotta feed, the harder it’ll be to get where we need to go,” the younger ghoul took another puff of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it. “We’ve already got all these fuckers to feed, includin’ ourselves.”

You nodded, not wanting to keep the argument going any longer, wishing it would all be over already. You watched as the forcefield went out for a second to allow the males to step out of it, guns blazing. That invisible shield went back up the moment they’d stepped out. You leaned on your horse as you watched them blow those poor people’s heads off. Grimacing as you watched the scene play out in front of you. You didn’t quite understand how they all managed to remain stoic—how the two humans seemed to enjoy themselves, even smiling as they pulled their triggers. But something you understood even less was how your brothers seemed so unphased at the prospect of taking those human lives. You grew up in the same household, after all. But then again, their training in the military back at home was slightly different than yours. Theirs was more combat oriented—yes, you were all trained to be spies first and foremost, but they were trained to be more combative while you were trained in more intelligence based fields such as chemistry and stealth. That kind of explained their nonchalant attitude. Even if you had just rationalised everything in your mind not too long ago, their blatant disregard for the lives of intelligent beings still took you off guard.

You watched as they advanced to the centre of the town, surrounding themselves in the town’s population. “Ghouls! Kill them!” You heard the townsfolk yell, prompting your confusion. Did the Ghoul know these people? Why were they yelling his name? Had he been there before? You wouldn’t be surprised. The humans told you they’d tracked Elena around all over the place, this could’ve been one of her stops before the Anthraxans cut her thread of fate.

The yelling didn’t last very long, silence engulfed you in the matter of seconds. You held your breath. You sighed with relief when that girl’s crying resumed. You dropped the forcefield and ran over to meet your group, opening the container that was placed in the middle. The container the girl had been stuck into by her fellow villagers. “My name is Jessie,” you heard her mutter to herself. The Ghoul shot you a sorrowful look but you were unsure why. His eyes told you he knew more than he was letting on. “My name is Jessie,” she repeated, her head shook frantically, growling in between. You pulled her out and hugged her, the Ghoul stepped up only to be held back by James.

“She’s gotta learn,” he mumbled to his friend.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jessie,” you smiled softly at her. “I’m Y/n.”

“My name is Jessie,” the girl repeated, her growls becoming more agitated, furrocious. That’s when she made a move to attack you but before the little, irradiated girl could strike, the older bounty hunter shot her in the head. Her blood splattered all over the left side of your face, blue tears started to stream down your cheeks.

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“She was gon’ kill ya, darlin’,” he answered you softly, a pitiful look on his face as he walked closer to you and tried to pull you into his arms. You backed away. “She was goin’ feral. This is what happens to people like us when we’re not properly taken care of. We go nuts and start attackin’ anyone and anything in our path.”

“We could have helped her then!” You screamed, enraged and overcome by your grief for the girl you never got to know. “We could’ve medicated her! Like I’ve been medicating you! She was sick!”

“That’s different, honey… She was too far gone. Once the process starts, ya can’t reverse it. What I did just now was a kindness, believe me. It ain’t right to let people live like that.”

“I warned you,” James chuckled. “Don’t expect everythang to be peaches n’ cream. This place ain’t been nice to nobody for two hundred years,” he looked up at the sky ruefully.

The older bounty hunter held his hand out to help you up but you didn’t take it. You pushed yourself off the sandy ground and wiped your blue tears off your cheeks, sniffling and pushing past him to get back to the dead irradiated human girl. You stroked her stringy hair, some of it fell out in your hand as you did. You felt Dimiil place his hand on your shoulder, “we need to go.” You ignored him and continued to cradle the girl in your arms. He shook you by the shoulder and forced you to get up by dragging you up himself. “Nebby. Let’s go.”

“Girly don’t wanna leave without burying the whole village, does she?” James cackled and shook his head, ��we ain’t got time for all of that. Not unless you feel like adding more bodies to the pile. I got a feelin’ that ain’t all of ‘em. I suggest ya move whatcha momma gave ya.”

The Ghoul held his hand out to you again. You wiped your tears and sighed, letting him lead you back to his horse and letting him help you climb it. He climbed up right after and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. He turned to wipe the blood off your face. You stayed quiet as he did so. You didn’t want to look at him, not right now, at least. He then put his handkerchief back into his pocket and grabbed your hands from behind him, placing them on his waist to make sure you were holding onto something before the horse started moving again. “It’ll all get easier with time, sweetheart. You’ve just got…” he sighed, “a lot to learn.”

After having ridden for a while, you finally let your anger drop, your head along with it as you leaned on the Ghoul’s back. You found yourself crying again, “she wasn’t going to do anything…” you insisted.

The Ghoul turned his head to try and get a look at you, but he couldn’t see much aside from the top of your head that you’d buried into his back. “She was going to and I couldn’t let her try,” he answered patiently, looking ahead again as you all continued down the Standing Rock landscape.

“It’s getting dark,” Nikkand’r spoke, “let’s set up camp.”

“Alright. I don’t know about you fireflies, but I’m gettin’ me some shut eye tonight.” James climbed off his coffee coloured horse.

Nikk nodded, “you humans can get some sleep tonight. We’ll keep watch.” You started setting down two blankets on the ground for the ghouls to lay on. “You get some sleep too, sis.”

“I slept last night, though.”

“And you’ll sleep tonight too,” Dimiil cut in with a smile. “It’s not fun picking on you when you’re sad.”

“Look at the bright side, at least your face didn’t get chewed up. Just imagine, if she would’ve chewed your face off— your exposed teeth showing through your ripped up cheeks. Ooo—“ he shuddered obnoxiously. “That would’ve been gnarly.”

“Thanks, Nikk. I needed the visual.” You rolled your eyes.

“See? I made it fun… for myself. It’s all about perspective, Dim.”

“Praise be to Yevnologin for not making you any more insufferable than you already are,” the elder alien muttered, raising his arms in worship as he looked up to the stars.

“Is that a challenge I hear?” The youngest was never the religious type.

You scoffed, Dim kept ignoring his annoying brother’s attempts at jokes and turned to you. “Seriously, rest. Get yourself together. We’ve got a long journey ahead and can’t really afford for any one of us to ‘go nuts’ as those humans would say.”

“I’ll try to if I don’t end up having nightmares about the poor girl splitting my head open,” you glared at your younger brother who simply snickered in response. Boys are gross, you thought to yourself as you pulled a third blanket from one of your bags and set it on the floor. You laid down and stared up at the starry sky. You couldn’t fall asleep for the life of you. Between the thoughts that raced your mind and the cold nighttime air, you were struggling. No one prepared a fire that night. The aliens didn’t feel like it was necessary and thought it smarter to leave the world in darkness in order to avoid unnecessary attention. As a result, you shivered in silence but took advantage of the darkness to turn off your disguise. You listened as your brothers paced your little camp. They were close enough for you to hear their footsteps and chatter but far enough for it not to disturb anyone’s slumber.

“You chilly, doll?” You hear the Ghoul whisper to you from his spot on his blanket.

You ignored him, turning your body in a different direction so you wouldn’t face him. You didn’t need to answer, he could see you shivering and hear your teeth chattering. You heard him sigh and walk over to you. You felt him place his frayed coat over your body. “I could’ve grabbed another blanket for myself,” you grumbled to yourself. That’s when you heard some more shuffling and felt one of the blankets that were packed cover you. He didn’t mind the attitude, he was happy to hear something. Even if it was for much, he was grateful you hadn’t become mute.

“You warm now, sweetheart?” He asked you, not really expecting an answer. He made these gestures without the assumption of getting anything in return from you. He just wanted to make you comfortable in a world that ripped comfort away from its inhabitants. You ignored him again. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate his simple deeds, you were just upset that he wasn’t upset the way you were. That he could do these things and not bat an eye. That he’d killed the girl knowing you’d only wanted to help her. He walked in front of you and sat a foot away from your face. “You understand why I did what I did, right?”

“Good grief, I’m tryna sleep here, people!” James groaned, stirring in his slumber. The Ghoul sighed and bore daggers into his head with the look he shot the man.

You turned the other direction to indicate that you didn’t want to speak to the irradiated human. You heard him sigh. You don’t think he left that spot either since you didn’t hear him get up. You didn’t hear any shuffling or any footsteps to indicate that he had. Instead you heard him dig into one of his pockets and smelled the change in the air; he was smoking a cigarette. Those two men kept each other’s smoking habit alive much to your chagrin. Your olfactory receptors were not accustomed to that habit of his, you didn’t have those things back at home. The things people smoked on your planet were either scentless or flowery in scent. Of course, you could smell the charred undertones but that came with anything that was lit on fire. But that was rare. Only the puritans smoked the old fashioned way. Most chose to smoke through inhalers and the product within the inhalers didn’t burn, they boiled. Much like the way that the Ghoul had previously ingested his chems before you took over making them for him.

If you were honest, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint why you were upset with the Ghoul specifically. Aside from the fact that he had shot the little girl who sat in your lap, her blood spattering on your face. He had explained why he did what he did. Logically speaking, you understood his reasoning. Was it because you wanted nothing but to reach out to him for comfort? But you felt wrong for seeking his comfort? You wanted him? The heartless human who killed others like him without sparing a thought for them? That wasn’t true. If he were completely heartless, he wouldn’t have treated you the way he did. Or did he coddle you because he felt indebted to you for convincing your brothers not to take his life? Why did it matter to you? It’s not like you were compatible with his lifestyle. He was accustomed to the filth and toxicity of his environment and you weren’t. You grew up in a world where your life was stable and privileged; a place where laws and values still ruled it’s society. A world where you had a right to live. In this world, life was something one fought for and earned. And how much of a fool were you to get so attached to this stranger you’d only met weeks ago? You only knew him as Ghoul and you weren’t entirely sure that was even his real name.

You couldn’t sleep like this. Not with him watching you like he was afraid you’d fall apart if you fell out of sight. You didn’t take any pleasure in avoiding him. You considered him a friend, your rock. You were just confused. Why were you even angry in the first place? It wasn’t really new information that he killed people. You groaned, aggravated with yourself. You took the blanket that the Ghoul had placed on you and brought it over your shoulders as you got up and stomped off to where your brothers were. You needed some kind of a distraction.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep, sissy?” Nikkand’r called out once you reached his line of vision. You shrugged and told him you couldn’t sleep. He didn’t need to ask, he knew you too well not to know what was going on in that brain of yours.

But Dimiil beat him to the punch, “you’re being a hypocrite, you know that, right?” You crossed your arms, you didn’t argue with him. He was right and you knew it. “We’ve been killing people left and right and you haven’t once flipped out on us?”

You purse your lips and hesitated to make your admission but went ahead anyway, “it’s not like I haven’t been upset with you guys.”

“I know,” he paused, “and yet, here you are speaking to us instead of the man you’d rather be with.”

You scrunched up your face, “what the fuck are you on about?”

Nikk interrupted and spoke as crudely as he usually did. You feigned shock anyway, trying to pretend that what he said was unfathomable and wrong. “What he's saying is that you obviously have a crush on him and you’re sexually frustrated and making it everyone’s problem. He likes you too, you doof. Go and talk to the guy so we can stop hearing you cry about this shit.”

“You talk to Wanda with that potty mouth of yours?”

“Of course not. She’s my angel. You’re a gremlin. Now go. We gave you the night off so you could get your shit together.”

“Speaking of Wanda, how is she?”

“Stop trying to change the subject and go,” Dimiil cackled. You grumbled to yourself. They were right.

You walked back to where the rest of your party sat and slept. The two humans were in the same spots as when you’d initially walked off. James was snoring from his spot on the ground and the Ghoul was looking down at his feet as he smoked that horrible cigarette you hated so much.

“I suppose…” The Ghoul heard your soft voice ring in his mind as you sat back down on the dirty ground in front of him. He looked up at you, curious to hear what you were going to say. You didn’t look directly at him, opting to alternate your gaze between his hat, his bare hands, the nasty stick he held between his fingers. You weren’t bad at apologies but you weren’t particularly enthused about admitting you were wrong, especially about this specific topic. “That you were right to do what you did. I’m sorry for having been rude to you for it…”

“I’m sorry for upsettin’ you, darlin’,” he lamented sincerely, he reached out and placed his bare hand on your cheek. You leaned into its warmth.

“That poor girl…” You weren’t quite ready to let go of the grief you felt for the girl. But you were ready to forgive him for putting her out of her misery. Maybe it really was the most humane thing he could do for her.

“She was dead already,” he caressed your chin. He could feel the tears streaming down from your eyes and moved his hand up to wipe them away. You made a move to climb onto him and straddle his lap but he placed his hand on your shoulder and stopped you. He shook his head and you could feel your heart fall into the ground and shatter into a million pieces. “I respect you too much…” He could tell by the look on your face that you were devastated and he took no pleasure in it. You moved back and covered yourself again with that blanket, using it to comfort yourself from his rejection. You looked away, embarrassed and dejected. You didn’t notice him leaning over until he’d moved your head back in his direction by the chin. He slowly brought his lips closer to yours but he stopped short of actually kissing you. He resisted his urge to, though it was getting increasingly difficult by the second. “I just want to make sure you don’t do anything you’ll regret, sweetheart.” He whispered, his eyes darting back and forth between your violet irises and your plump lips.

“Why would I regret this?”

The Ghoul shot you a look of despair, he didn’t tell you what he was thinking. His insecurity was what held him back from touching, kissing and feeling you the way he wanted to. How could you look upon his scarred face and find any semblance of someone to love? It didn’t make sense to him. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck and moved up to catch his lips in a kiss. Your kiss had a sense of urgency to it, you pulled him down to bring him closer to you. He almost gave in to his desires and met you with the same sense of haste, he felt his pants get tighter; but then he slowed the kiss down, softened it. He pulled back in spite of his growing bulge, “sweetheart, please don’t take this the wrong way…” You slowly opened your eyes, afraid of what he was going to say. “It’s not that I wouldn’t love the pleasure of your company in… this kinda way. I’d just… like to do right by you. I don’t want to rush you into anything. And you deserve so much more than this dirty sand.” He stroked your hair and pecked your lips softly. He desperately wanted to feel them crash against his scarred lips again but maintained his self control.

The snoring stopped. “Uh-uh,” James protested loudly. “If y’all are gon’ get to fuckin’ each other like some fuckin’ rabbits in heat, I’m gon’ kindly ask you to either let me get in on the action or knock it off so I can get some sleep. I can hear y’all devourin’ each other from here, fuckin’ animals,” you heard him grumble.

The older ghoul rolled his eyes, “we weren’t doin’ none of that, ya degenerate. She’s a lady.” He yelled out and winked at you, letting his scarred mouth crack a smile at his own statement.

You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, “thank you.” You whispered. He wasn’t sure how to take that. Were you grateful he’d stopped you from having sex with him? Were you grateful that he stopped you from making the worst mistake of your life? Were you embarrassed that you might have been linked with engaging in a sexual activity with him and grateful that he’d stopped the idea from spreading? It was almost as if you were listening to his thoughts because in that moment, you spoke again. “Thank you for always looking out for me.” You clarified and pecked his lips. You stood up and bent down to take his calloused hand in yours, leading him to the blanket that had been sprawled on the floor earlier. You laid back, using your elbow to prop yourself up and patted the spot next to you. “Will you at least keep me warm, Ghoulie?”

How could he resist you? He shook his head and his worries away and kept that lopsided smile on his face as he climbed into the spot you’d cleared for him. He wrapped his arms around you and you did the same, laying your head against his chest. “Did you know those people?”

“Hm?” He had already started falling asleep when you blindsided him with your question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I heard those villagers screaming your name, I was wondering if you’d met them before.”

The old ghoul snorted, “no, sweetheart. I’ve never met ‘em.”

“Then how did they know who you were?”

“Whatchu mean, sweetheart?”

“They were yelling your name…” You repeated.

Then it clicked for him, for some reason, it hadn’t the first time. “My real name ain’t Ghoul,” he chuckled softly. He then sighed, the smile falling off his face. “Ghouls are… well, what I am.”

“Irradiated humans?”

“In a sense, yes.”

“Ah…” you mumbled, finally drawing the connections in your mind. “Then what’s your real name?”

He kissed your forehead, “you can keep calling me Ghoul for now.” You pouted but you weren’t going to keep pushing the subject. Clearly, he didn’t want you to know. You weren’t sure why. A name was a name, it wouldn’t do him any harm to tell you who he was but that wasn’t your decision to make. You shuffled in your space a bit to get more comfortable, your index finger traced circles around his chest as you found yourself drifting into sleep. He spent the next few minutes, wrestling with his thoughts. Debating with himself why he felt the need to keep that part of himself hidden when he wanted nothing but to share himself with you. It wasn’t like he was trying to erase his past—no, he wanted to remember it. No matter how painful it was, he needed to remember who he was. It was part of the reason he was able to maintain a friendship with James. He realised his hesitance was futile. He wanted to build something honest with you and he needed to be honest to do that. He cleared his throat and just as he was about to speak, he heard a faint whimper escape your lips. You had already fallen asleep. Then a question popped into his head that tanked his mood: what was the point if you were just going to leave him anyway? It’s not like he’d be able to convince you to stay, would he? He sighed. Maybe he’d just go along with this and try to enjoy your company anyway.

The next morning, you woke to the harsh sun beating down your face once again. You stirred in your sleep as you were pulled out of your slumber by the merciless star. You didn’t want to get up, you wanted to sleep a bit longer. You had gotten plenty of sleep but you still felt like you could use some more. The world was heating up around you and the layers of fabric that covered you made the heat unbearable. You threw your half of the blanket off and sat up. The human’s eyes snapped open as soon as you did that, immediately noticing the absence of your touch. He watched you adjust to your environment and saw you look down at him. He gave you his lopsided grin. You smiled back at him softly.

“Rise and shine, motherfuckers,” Nikk’s voice boomed, loud music blasted from seemingly nowhere. He danced around your forms like he was performing some kind of a ritual. James groaned and yelled at your brother to turn that goddamn noise off and sat up, as did the Ghoul. The younger ghoul grabbed a rock and threw it at the obnoxious alien. Unfortunately for the human, he missed. The younger human told him once again to turn it off so they wouldn’t attract any Dakotan wildlife to the group. The alien assured him no one could hear his noise but them. Much to their chagrin, the music kept blasting and the alien continued dancing. James muttered something about this being some kind of CIA torture technique. He piped down when Nikk then started to throw random chunks of meat at the two ghouls that they caught midair with ease. It became apparent to them that your brothers had gone back to the village and cut up the dead bodies at some point in the night to feed the humans. Nikkand’r wasn’t big on sharing his food and was tired of the ghouls stealing his chips. Did he have any confidence they’d keep their calloused fingers off his snack stash? No. But he figured minimising their appetite would help.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” You looked him up and down judgmentally. You were still grouchy from having just woken up; you weren’t much of a morning person. You definitely weren’t in the mood for the ruckus this early in the day.

Your younger brother shrugged, “maybe the sweet taste of violence has rejuvenated me!”

“Where’s Dim? He’s given you way too much creative freedom.”

“Here, just had to walk Marge.” Dimiil came back into view with his pet wolf by his side.

“Can’t find time for a girlfriend but he makes time for a dog,” Nikk crossed his arms and leaned on his left foot.

The ghouls were only partly invested in the conversation at this point. They were more interested in devouring the tasty pieces of bright red meat that laid in their laps.

“That’s what happens when you don’t listen to your sister. You end up fumbling a pretty girl and become old and alone with ninety dogs.” You teased.

“For your information, Jaina and I were gonna go on our third date before we got stuck in this shithole—“

“This is our shithole, thank you very much. I’m very proud of it, actually,” the Ghoul jested as he chewed on the raw meat, waving the chunk of meat around as he spoke. He liked to talk with his hands. Human meat was a delicacy, —or so he convinced himself— it didn’t need to be cooked or seasoned, in his opinion, at least. But he wasn’t in the mood to eat the skin, so he pulled it off before taking another bite.

Dimiil chuckled, “no offence.”

“Offence has been taken,” James added, speaking with his mouth full. You marvelled at him, it was a wonder the food didn’t spill out from the exposed parts of the man’s cheeks.

The look of surprise on Nikk’s face was priceless, but he wasn’t paying attention to what had captured your eyes. “What? Why didn’t you say anything? This whole time we thought you pussied out and didn’t even try calling her—“

“Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell.”

“That is the lamest thing I have ever heard come out of that crusty ass mouth of yours—“

“And we’ve heard you say your fair share of corny shit, dude,” you cut in as you and Nikk laughed hysterically, high fiving each other. He high-fived you and mumbled something about being happy you were back. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk, Y/n.”

“Ohhhhhh shit,” Nikk put his hand to his mouth. “It’s a showdown,” he danced to the annoying music he played.

“Seriously, are you on something right now?” You side eyed the alien.

“Hey, don’t take your anger out on me, take it to the source! Are you just gonna let him talk to you like that?” The youngest instigated, howling with laughter. His music still blared in your minds.

You saw a bright white ray of light shoot out and pushed your brother to the ground. As a result of having pushed him down, a strand of your hair was cut by the ray of light as it passed. The Ghoul raised his bald eyebrow in confusion, whipping his gun out in an instant. Dimiil noticed another light fly toward him and immediately brought his wrist up so he could use his watch to put up the forcefield that had protected you on and off in the past. Your antennas emitted a blue light. “It’s them, isn’t it?” He said to no one in particular. He was frightened. The three of you were, you knew what you were up against.

The two humans weren’t necessarily as frightened, maybe it was because they were confident in their ability to fight for their survival. Or maybe it was because they were simply ignorant to their new enemy. In any case, no one answered the eldest alien, too focused on getting their own weapons ready. Not that they particularly needed to, he was just trying to alleviate his mind of the stress caused by their impending doom.

The three aliens looked at each other. You mouthed some words at your brothers, the Ghoul couldn’t make out what you were saying, but your intended audience seemed to understand you perfectly fine. He watched as the three of you ran in the direction of the light bullets. He tried to follow but found that he and his friend were trapped by the invisible barrier.

#fallout tv show #50s 60s alien aesthetic #alien reader #alien reader x ghoul cooper howard #alien x ghoul #aliens and ufos #cooper howard x reader #fallout season one #fallout fluff #fallout ghoul #fallout #ghoul x female reader #ghoul fluff #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul fallout

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depresseddepot · 2 years

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his name is bodie

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gojonanami · 4 months

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❝ 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ! ❞

❝ I HEARD FROM A FRIEND OF A FRIEND, THAT DICK WAS A TEN OUT OF TEN !! ❞

✧ pairing: jjk au sorcerer! suguru geto x sorcerer! reader

✧ summary: geto's routine after a mission -- ingest the curses that he collects before his shower. but after he does, his body begins to burn and ache with lust to the point of pain -- and he can't get rid of the feeling alone. so what else can he do when you show up at his doorstep offering to help but accept it (aka a sex pollen / aphrodisiac curse fic).

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, jjk compliant au, geto stayed a sorcerer and didn't defect, reader is one year younger than geto, (set during jjk s1), aphrodisiac curse (sex pollen), multiple orgasms, multiple positions (missionary, doggy, riding, other positions mentioned: standing, against the wall, spooning from behind, against the wall), masturbation (m), soft dom! geto, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, cervix fucking, panty stealing, squirting, mutual pining, a little angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc), but a lot of comfort, cuddling, gojo hijinks

✧ wc: 8,180

Suguru was only sure of one thing, as he stared at himself in the mirror — cheeks flushed red, sweat nearly soaking through his black t-shirt, and a painful and glaring problem in his boxers—

This was a curse — literally.

Curses were made up of different negative human emotions — from loneliness to grief to anger, these negative feelings would pool and create a curse. Sorcerers were made to exorcise these curses, and Suguru did so — but in a different way than the others. He had to consume them as part of his technique. And even with the hundreds of curses he’s swallowed over the years, he would never get used to the taste — a shit soaked rag used to clean up vomit was how he could best describe it, but even then, that didn’t come close to the indescribable act of swallowing the manifestation of the worst negative human emotions — at least for most of them.

The one he had swallowed today was different — he was sent to exorcise a grade 1 curse in the heart of Tokyo that dwelled in an abandoned building — from the inside, he could tell that it was used as a strip club and possibly a bathhouse-turned-brothel, from the seedy mattresses left behind with dirty sheets and mussed covers, with rusting incense burners placed around the room, and the gaudy, fake jewelry that laid strewn about the place — assumedly any real jewelry picked clean. He swore he could have even smelt the ever lingering scent of cheap perfume in the walls and vents.

But the greater concern was the curse he had found himself with — a grotesque creature that stared back at him — its body a deep maroon, many eyes dotting its back with a large pair of black lips that Suguru didn’t care to draw any closer to. It was more humanoid than most — its form showing a more sophistication than many curses did, muscles of its many arms contracted as it finally spotted Suguru, its many eyes settled their gaze on him.

It was far too easy for him to take down the curse in hindsight — far too easy — and it seemed to watch him summon curses — and he swore it almost had seen a glimmer of recognition in its eyes and then it allowed him to deal the final blow.

He had kept the curse on hand — he could swallow it later, when he was near a toilet and perhaps some mouthwash — though that barely did much to remove the taste from his mouth. He had returned to Jujutsu Tech to do his reports, and hopefully head back early — Satoru was out on another overseas mission and Shoko was busy tending to patients and bodies as always, but you—

He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to text you. Not after what Satoru said.

“When are you guys gonna fuck already?” the strongest sorcerer asked, making Suguru choke on his Sprite — strong in ability, but not in tact, “you and her have been eye fucking for weeks and you had such a thing for her before she decided to move to Kyoto—”

“That was years ago—”

“She has a key to your apartment—“

“So do you!” he glares.

“Then what about last night at the bar?” Satoru leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground, as he pulled his sunglasses down, “you could have murdered the guy that was hitting on her with your look alone — and I think you did when you stuck yourself to her side with your arm around her waist, until he ran with his tail between his legs,”

If looks could kill, Suguru would have surely murdered his best friend — infinity be damned, “She looked uncomfortable, what was I going to do—”

“Well, she certainly didn’t look uncomfortable with you hanging all over her, now did she?” He raises an eyebrow, as he leans forward again, the front legs of his chair landing with a thunk, “what are you gonna do if a guy comes along that she falls for? You’re telling me you’re not gonna regret it, Suguru?” Suguru says nothing, unable to meet Satoru’s gaze, as Satoru crushes his own can into a ball, before tossing at Suguru, “You guys just got to hurry up and fuck,”

Suguru swats the crushed can away, “You’re disgusting,”

He grins, as his words seemingly only confirm what he assumes, “Disgusting, but correct, and if I’m right, you’re taking some of my missions off my hands,” he grins.

And Satoru’s words had been running around in Suguru’s head — just like any annoying song on the radio — but he couldn’t let Satoru’s words stop from hanging out with you. He had just gotten you back in his life again — he couldn’t lose you, not again.

Geto: Are you free to watch a movie and have takeout?

You: sounds good - did you get back from your mission alright? No injuries I need to yell at you about?

He snorts, as he types his reply: no, not this time.

You: Let’s keep it that way! :)

He bites back his smile as the two of you decide to have you head over in an hour to his place — you preferred it that way since you were still settling into your place, boxes still unwittingly everywhere there should be actual furniture. Last time he came by to pick a report up, he found you eating your meal on a packed box, instead of a table.

And he catches himself smiling, before his face sours at the thought of Satoru again.

Satoru was right — and he hated to admit it, his knuckles pressed to his lips. A year under him, you had spent days with him, along with everyone else — you always waited for him with his favorite snacks when he would return from a mission. You sat with him sometimes when he would get sick from swallowing curses, helping him swallow some water and saltines after he turned his stomach inside out. You were the one that pushed him when he hid his disillusionment from everyone else — even from Satoru. You wouldn’t leave him alone, you wouldn’t stop dogging his every step with snacks and comfort and company, hounding him to sleep, to eat, to say something, anything.

Until he did — one late night you spent up together — he didn’t sleep much those days anyway. And he told you everything — the poison seeping from his body, and leeching onto yours, your frown and hurt was the whole reason he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone to begin with. But the frown wasn’t yourself — it was for him, as your arms only curled around him, and he let you hold him the entire night.

“You don’t always have to pretend to be strong, Suguru. You’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to be angry, you’re allowed to grieve — but don’t bottle it up,” your fingers raked through his wet hair, undoing the tangles gently before running the comb through it, “don’t let it kill you from the inside out,”

“I feel like I did die — along with Amanai,” and you pause, your arms curled around his shoulders, chin resting on his head before you pinched his cheek and he flinched.

“There, you’re definitely not dead,” you say, “so don’t act like you are. And don’t act like you’re alone — because you’re not. You have me, you have Satoru and Shoko — even Nanami and—“ you voice cuts off at the thought of Haibara — “Haibara wouldn’t want you to hide from us, he looked up to you — more than anyone else, even Satoru,”

“I don’t know why,” he mutters with a sigh.

“I do,” your fingers guide his face to meet your gaze, your face an inch or two from his, “because you’re kind, you’re intelligent, and you’re strong,”

He scoffs, “Satoru is the strongest,”

“And you think Satoru thinks any differently of you? That any of us feel differently? You’re the only person who can understand him — and he’s the only one who understands you,”

He gives a small chuckle, “not the only one,” and he tears his eyes away, hoping you don’t see the way his cheeks burned.

And when he found those two sorcerer girls locked up — you were the one who called. The rage and anger had built into murderous intent, but he could hear your words ringing in his ears and before he knew it, he had called you to come to him.

You saved them together — Nanako and Mimiko had fallen asleep in your respective laps after all was said and done on the ride back — without much bloodshed (not that the blood that was shed was worth much, in his opinion) — and with Gojo and you smoothing things over with the higher ups (mostly with veiled threats and petty remarks), you managed to allow the twins to grow up safe, under Geto’s care, and your own.

At least for a time. After you graduated, Nanami left — and you were the only one of your class left — and the absence of your best friends weighed on you, even if you didn’t show it.

“I’m leaving for Kyoto,” you told him one afternoon the two of you spent lazing around his dorm, you sat against the bottom of his bed, as he lounged on the mattress, his gaze snapping to you, only able to see the back of your head, “this place holds too many memories — i need perspective, I need space from all of this,”

He wants to ask if you have to, ask you if he could convince you to stay, if he could do something, anything to make you stay — ask if he wasn’t enough to make you stay. But he doesn’t, because it’s the best decision for you. So he instead slips off the bed, sitting beside you, his hand ruffling your hair, “You’ll come to visit right?”

He knows you’re blinking back tears, but he pretends not to notice, your lip quivering, and god, he knows he wants nothing more than to tilt your gaze toward him by your chin and brush his lips against yours, until every sad thought has evaporated under his touch.

But he knows that would only be one more thought that would make things far more difficult — for the both of you. It was better this way. And it was. Years had passed, the two of you had become teachers at the Tokyo and Kyoto schools respectively — but as the years had passed, your relationship grew more distant, as it always seemed to with time and distance.

But then you decided to come back to Tokyo, transferred over — Yaga explaining it was due to all the happenings in Tokyo with the special grades and emergence of Yuji as Sukuna’s vessel — and he found himself in your presence again. And it was as if no time had passed — your days off spent in his apartment — as yours had become a haven of unpacked boxes. And he couldn’t help but wonder — when he’d glance at you in the dark of his living room, the only illumination was the TV that played some shitty horror movie (your words not his) you had put on — if the special grades were the only reason you’d come back. Your fingers were so close to each other’s on the couch, but an inch felt like a ravine.

One he couldn’t dare to cross.

But It was fine, just as he told Satoru — you were just friends, until both of you decided otherwise. Not that it would ever happen — no, he thought that ship had sailed, even if his heart had stubbornly said that it hadn’t.

Until he decided to consume the curse — and his heart was no longer the problem.

Or at least, not his main problem.

He sat in his bathroom, towel in the shower rack, ready to shower after he dealt with this. He had discarded his uniform jacket and pants — only in a black t-shirt and boxers. He stood by the toilet — as he learned his lesson the first few months swallowing curses — he never knows when one will turn his stomach inside out.

He holds the balled curse in his palm — he could feel it squirm just underneath of his cursed energy — the thing keeping it contained at all, itching to be freed from his grasp — though it never would. He pressed the ball to his lips, bracing himself as he opened his mouth, nearly having to unhinge his jaw for how large this curse was and pressing it past his lips and into his mouth. His palms pressed against his mouth, as he swallowed, eyes squeezed shut.

It…wasn’t as bad as he thought. He frowned, brow knit as he stared at his empty palm — it was still appalling to consume, but it was….sweet? But it burned as it went down, heat remaining in the pit of his stomach, even as it should have faded.

That should have been his first clue.

Either way, he turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped in. The water felt warmer than usual, as he washed his body first, letting his hair grow wet under the shower head. His fingers reached for the shower handle, turning it even colder, but his body barely reacted to the water — was it even cold?

Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning — a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you.

….what? He tried to shake that thought from his head — it wasn’t the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training — your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk met—

This wasn’t helping.

The burning had traveled southward, as his blood did, and he glanced down at his raging hard-on.

Fuck.

No, he couldn’t.

But his fingers were possessed, already reaching for his aching cock, large beads of pre-cum leaving his slit just as hand closed around it. He hisses when he does, a gasp ripped from his throat, as he braces himself against the shower wall with his other hand.

He palms his erection, swallowing thickly, as he grunts, as he begins to pump his cock from base to tip, smearing his pre along his length. But his mind wanders to you, how pretty you’d look pressed against the wall of his shower, his hard cock dragging between your ass. Lovely moans parting your lips as his fingers would reach around to rub at your puffy clit.

“Suguru, please—“

“Tell me what you want baby, gotta use your words,” he’d murmur, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock.

“Need your cock — need you to fuck me,” you would whine, words nearly enough to make him bust there and then. And he would sink into you just as he does his fist, but your sweet cunt would feel so much better than his hand does.

Fucking wet and tight and just for him, as he works his dick deeper and deeper, until his tip is nudging your cervix. And he’d fuck you hard, just like he’s fucking his fist now, skin slapping each time his hips met your ass.

You’d cum before he would, he would make sure of it — one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, the other toying with one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. And your walls would squeeze and wring him dry, just as he squeezed his own dick now.

He spilled all over the wall of his shower, white spurts kept coming, as he grunted, imagining he was painting your walls instead. He panted, but as the afterglow ebbed away, the heat only came back tenfold.

He panted, as his fingers left his cock, only to find it still hard — the tip red and angry, twitching as he stared back at it.

What the fuck is going on?

He finally left the shower, pulling on his shirt and boxers delicately — every inch of his body felt feverish and sensitive, even the rubbing of his clothes against his skin was almost too much for him.

He stood in front of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain as he tried to will his erection away, but each thought was only chased away with thoughts of you — of the dress you loved to wear riding up, of your legs spreading for him, of the wet patch on your panties—

He was so fucked. Sweat dripped into the sink, as he glanced at himself in the mirror — skin a ruddy red flush, lips impossibly dry, pupils blown out with need — he was so fucked.

He called Shoko — the embarrassment of this situation far gone at this point fading into plain need of wanting this situation to be over. One ring, two rings — finally five rings and she picks up.

“It’s not like you to call—“

“I need your help,” he cuts her off, biting back the groan from his cock rubbing against his boxers the wrong way — “I don’t know what’s happening to me,”

Her voice shifts from curiosity to concern, “Slow down, Suguru, tell me what’s going on,” and he tells her his symptoms — and she’s silent on the other line for a moment, “you have been a teenage boy before right? You’re not really calling me because you’re horny and you don’t know what to do—“

“It’s not that—“ he hisses, running a slow hand down his face, “I already tried…solving the problem myself but it didn’t work. And I feel weird — it only made it worse. I can’t stop sweating or thinking about—“ he cuts off — he couldn’t stop lewd thoughts of you from springing before his eyes, the thoughts of your moans, how soft your flesh would be under his fingers, how you’d look when he— “what is this, Shoko?”

She pauses on the line for a moment, “When did it start?”

“Right before my shower I think,” his mind foggy with need, he could barely even comprehend a coherent thought.

“And what did you do before your shower? Anything different?” he’s swallowing the lump in his throat, as he resists the urge to brush his hand over his hard-on.

He’s barely hearing Shoko at this point — “I took off my clothes, I got my towel, and then I—“ and the realization struck him — the curse, “I consumed the curse I collected today from my mission,” he mutters, “fuck—“

And then there’s a knock at the door, “Suguru?” He heard you call through the door. His dick throbs at the sound of your voice.

Shoko’s voice cuts through the white noise, “Suguru, the curse you ate — was there something different about it?”

“It was a grade one — it seemed a little too easy to defeat — it formed in—“ he swallows thickly, “in a brothel,”

“I’ve heard of curses being lustful, but not of them becoming a stimulant,” she murmurs, and he can hear her sigh, “you could try extracting the curse from your body — I doubt that would be effective at this point. I assume the effects will linger until the symptoms pass — just as it does when you become nauseous or sick from swallowing other curses,”

His phone buzzed with texts from you:

You: I’m outside, I grabbed takeout for us this time since you always treat me!

You: are you home?

His mind swam, it wasn’t the takeout he was craving — it was you. But no, no — he couldn’t. Not like this, but he was fighting a losing battle and he just about lost the war along with it.

“I don’t know, how do I get it to pass?” he was desperate, the sounds of your knocks and messages ringing in his ear, along with your sweet voice — why do you sound so good with his name on your lips? So sweet — his boxers grow even tighter — bet you even taste even sweeter.

“If dealing with it yourself didn’t work, then,” she sighs, “you’re going to need a partner,”

Another knock.

“Shoko, I have to go,” and he hangs up before she can get another word — a thought to thank her and apologize shoved to the back of his mind, as he stumbles to his door, a thunk as he nearly tumbled into it, wood and hinges groaning under the force and weight.

“Suguru?” you’re so worried yet his name on your tongue was nearly enough to have him cumming in his boxers then, the wet patch of his boxers nearly making the fabric translucent, “are you okay?”

He says your name, “You should go home, I’m not feeling well—“

“What’s wrong? Do you need help?” And he’s biting his lip, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood, “let me in,”

“I can’t—I can’t let you help with this,” he’s shaking his head, “please, sweetheart, you have to go—“ And he hears the clink of your key going into the door — fuck, that goddamn key he gave you, and the door pulls open, just as he braces himself against the doorframe.

Your brow furrowed in concern, takeout bag in hand, as your eyes examined him, until they found their way to his boxers.

“Suguru—“

“You should leave — I can’t explain, there’s a curse inside me—“

Your eyebrows knit together, “Suguru, a curse did this to you? What happened?” And he’s shaking his head, mind far too gone, as he forces himself away, “let me help—“

“You can’t help. I have to get out of my system but the only way is—“ he cuts off, as he groans again, body and mind railing against each other, as his body just seemingly burns from even being near you.

“There must be something—“ and you step closer, and he can barely hold back from grabbing you, fingers twitching to wrap around your waist, the other holding your neck, lips finding yours, as he fucking rips his own clothes off— “I want to help—“

He’s tugging at the collar of his shirt incessantly, as you step closer, closing the gap between your bodies, and he can only focus on the way your pretty lips part, the way your chest curves under your shirt, and the far too short shorts you choose to wear — fuck.

He was so fucked.

He can’t hold back, as he’s drawing close to you in a moment, his mind clouded with lust, the hitch of your breath only making him want you more — but he forced every muscle in his body to stop. He couldn’t. Not until you agreed.

“If you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” he says lowly, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “I want you — regardless of this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” the confession tumbles from his lips because he needs you to know, needs you know so you can either leave him to his fate or help him get through this, “but if you don’t feel the same—“

But to his surprise, you lean closer, breath warming his skin until it was left scalding, “who said I didn’t?”

And he can’t hold back.

His lips crash to yours, his hands holding your cheeks, as he grasps desperately to you, takeout boxes spilling from the plastic bag and your purse spilling your things when you drop it, your fingers grasping at his damp t-shirt.

And your touch alone even through the fabric is nearly enough to make him bust a nut there and then — and his mind hadn’t even felt so clear until he felt your touch. He could notice every little detail about you — the way your breath caught when his fingers ghosted down your sides, the way your lips parted for his tongue without hesitation, and the way your knees shook when he squeezed your hips.

“So pliant for me,” he murmurs, eager to touch more, to taste more, “such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?”

And you’re nodding wordlessly — lips kiss ruined and red, saliva clinging to your lips when he parted from your lips — and he wonders which one of you swallowed a glorified sex curse.

“Know how long I wanted to do this?” words said pressed with heated kisses down your neck — he was right, you tasted so sweet, he bet another part of you tasted even sweeter — “how many times I thought about this?” He nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, rewarded with a pretty gasp, “wanted to mark you up so many times — when that fucker tried to hit on you — I wanted to do more than just wrap my arm around you. Wanted to show him how he could never please you,” and he’s sucking a mark there, teeth grazing and pinching your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. He smiles against your skin, as he admires his handiwork.

You whine when he drags a thumb down your puffy lips, “Sugu, please, more,” and his lips find yours again, swallowing your complaints and moans eagerly, as his large palms slide down your back to rest on your ass, squeezing as he presses you flush to his body, hard on pressed against your body.

“Need my touch that much, Princess? Should’ve just fucked you in that club, huh? Let them see that you’re mine,” And he’s walking you backwards towards his room, as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor of his living room. Your fingers running over his exposed flesh, thumbs teasing his sensitive nipples, pretty little lips pressing teasing kisses to both sides.

Fuck, the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. But he wanted to feel good first — been waiting too long. He had all night to fuck you — but he only had one time to do it right the first time.

He’s walking you into the edge of his bed, as you both tumble onto the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging at the hem, and you help him take it off — and he hissed at the sight of nothing underneath.

“Were you always coming to my place with no bra on?” his lips curl, as your eyes look away, embarrassment painted on your expression, “wanted this as long as I did, Princess? Don’t get so shy now — you’re the one who insisted on helping me, so aren’t you going to fulfill your promise?” His lips brush against your earlobe, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly.

You shiver, biting your lip, before you’re tugging him fully onto the bed, before slinking off of it and onto your knees for him, “Then let me help you,”

When your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, he’s ready to cum right there — he’s so sensitive still, he’s sure he won’t last long, but fuck, he doesn’t care with how pretty you look between his legs.

“Don’t be a tease, Princess, or I’ll pay you back later,” but your lips only curl, as you lean forward and press a kiss through the drenched fabric, tip of your tongue teasing his slit through his boxers.

“Oh I expect you to,” and you’re pulling his boxers down painfully slowly, letting the fabric of his boxers rub against his hard-on teasingly, a low hiss leaving the thin line of his lips, his balls aching with his release as his cock slaps against his stomach, “fuck, Sugu,” you murmur in almost reverence — he was thick, the tip flushed red with lovely beads of pre-cum already dripping down his length, your fingers already eager to trace those pretty veins, and feel the slight curve of his cock in your aching cunt, “how am I gonna fit you all in me?”

And his cock twitches at your words, as you pity him with a chaste kiss to the top, “Please,” he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, fingers knuckles white as they fisted the now creased sheets, “fuck—“ as you blow air along his length, “I’ll cum all over your face at this rate,”

“Oh I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sugu?” your point finger lightly follows the trail of his vein, as your lips continue to press butterfly kisses along his length, “paint my face with your cum,”

And his fingers thread themselves in your hair, pressing his length to your lips, and you smirk, looking up at him with half lidded gaze, as your lips part and his length slides in — that’s all it takes.

The coil in his stomach snaps, as he cums down your throat, hot seed spilling into your mouth, as his hips jerk against your mouth, his groans of your name sending a hot stripe of heat down to your cunt.

Despite that, his cock only seems to grow larger, twitching against your tongue, as you part for a moment, a trail of saliva and cum dripping from your lips, “Taste so good, Sugu — gotta have you one more time—“ you envelop him with your lips again — and he’s a mess of moans, head thrown back, thick haze of lust as his eyes finally meet yours. You swallow around him, tongue wrapped around his length, as your sinful fingers touch whatever can’t fit in your mouth.

“S’good baby, should’ve fucked this mouth a long time ago,” and he’s gone, as his hips begin to slowly roll against you, watching as you don’t resist, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, “good fucking girl, never gonna go a day without these lips around my cock,” and god, he’s so close — twitching in your mouth, but what sends him over the edge is when he feels you moan, and spots your hand down your shorts.

Fuck, he’s pulling out, “can I—“ and you pump him in response, a grunt of your name as you let him cum all over your face and chest, the sight enough to make him hard all over again — his thick release slipping down your lips, as your tongue darts out to taste it again.

And he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting his own cum on your lips, before grabbing his discarded shirt to clean you off. His hand grabs your wrist and eases it from inside your cunt, tongue darting out to lick the release from your fingers, cleaning each of them.

In an instant, he’s got you spread on his bed, legs parted for him, “where’s that attitude now, pretty?” And his lithe fingers sneak under the elastic of your panties and snaps it against your skin, making you squirm, “seems like all those words fell out of your head just from sucking my cock,”

He’s slowly dragging your underwear down, before pulling at his bedside drawer to stuff your panties in, “for later use,” and you can’t managed a reply before his lips are pressing butterfly kisses up your thighs, before his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, before sucking and soothing it with his tongue, “mine, all mine,” he’s already hard again — the feel of your soft skin under his lips was enough to have him cumming again like a virgin — the burning in the pit of his stomach only burned brighter for you — god, would he ever work his way out of this state? But as his gaze was met with your lovely dripping cunt with your puffy clit begging him for attention, he couldn’t seem to care.

You hiss when his fingers slowly spread your folds, “So fucking tight, baby, how am I gonna fit in you?” he clicks his tongue, inhaling, as his nose brushes against your clit, making your hips jump, “patience, gotta take my time with this princess cunt, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” his dick twitching at his next sentence, “because I sink my cock in here, we’re not stopping at one round,”

Your cunt squeezes around nothing at his words, his breath warming your sensitive pussy, until he finally drags a stripe up your needy folds.

“Sugu, fuck,” his arms brace your thighs and hips down, as the tip of his tongue drags teasing circles around your clit, your slick gathering on his tongue, as he tastes it with a groan.

“Fucking, the best thing I’ve tasted,” and as much as he wants to bury his dick in you, he could live with his face between your thighs, “so perfect f’me,” and his tongue trails in tight circles around your clit, while his finger toys with your entrance, gathering your pre on his finger, teasing your entrance and delighting in the way your breath hitches.

He looks up at your face between half lidded eyes, you’re too fucking pretty — your hair a mess from, a sheen of sweat on your body, the lovely way your nipples were erect, and your eyes — pupils lost to lust and need. And all for him.

Fuck, he knows he won’t last long at this rate, he can already feel the urge to palm his raging cock, but he wants you to cum first, and he’s sinking a finger into your sweet cunt. He can almost imagine how your walls would feel fluttering around his cock — but he doubts his engorged tip would be even fit right now.

No, he needed to make this good for you — he slowly starts to finger fuck you as his tongue circles your clit in tighter circles, even sucking on it, and by the way your fingers grasped at the sheets, crumpling under your touch — you liked it.

Pretty moans left your lips, as your fingers found their way to his dark locks, still slightly damp from his shower — as he added a second finger inside. His name said between pants, as his fingers drag against your molten insides — the wet squelch rang in his ears as he fucked your cunt open. Knuckle deep in your sweet pussy, he knows he’s addicted — to the feeling of your molasses insides — warm and soft for him, his digits curling against your walls, looking for that one place that would make you fall apart.

“Sugu, please, please ‘m close—,” and he knows you need a little more, and he’s obliging with a chuckle, a third finger joining the other two, and he’s fucking you in earnest now — lips closing around your clit and sucking mercilessly, as his fingers find that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. Your back arches, as your nails dig into his scalp, as you cum around his fingers — walls fluttering as he eats you out through your high, his name leaving your lips again and again, as you slowly come down from your high, thighs twitching and chest heaving as you do.

As he finally pulls away, his chin and mouth glossy and drenched in a mixture of your cum and his spit — that he licks clean from where his tongue can reach, fingers collecting the rest, as he looks at your sticky cum gathered on his fingers.

Fuck, he could live in your cunt. Your sweet taste was the only thing he’d crave now after consuming curses — he wondered if you’d let him eat you out for hours after the curses he ate — he was sure your taste was the only thing that would erase that disgusting like nothing else ever would.

He’s giving you soft kisses after, dotting them up your body, murmuring praises, but you’re pulling him into a kiss, your fingers resting against the back of his neck, as your other hand finds his aching erection, swallowing his gasp with pleasure.

“Want you, Sugu, please,” and your words are enough to make him cum right there, as he tugs your hand away, “Sugu—”

“Won’t last long if you keep touching me and whining like that, Princess,” the heat only seems to lick at his skin like flames, engulfing him with every touch, and his cock was the epicenter of the wildfire, while you were the fuel that only made it consume you both to ash, “but I know it won’t be long until I’m fucking you again anyway,” Your cunt throbs at his words, as he draws close, dragging his weeping tip against your folds, watching his pre-cum smear against your slick with a grunt, “feels like you’re already trying to swallow me up, princess — you want this cock that bad?” fuck, he can’t hold back anymore, as he’s lining up himself up, and he’s sliding right into you with a groan, “know how long been waiting to do that?” his skin meeting yours as he bottoms out deliciously, stretching your walls out with his girth, pleasure ripping up your spine, “wanted to do this since the moment you walked through the door, but needed to do this right — when nothing about this was right,” he had so many things to say, while your mind had left you with not even a syllable, his cock twitched and pulsed inside your walls, dragging against it deliciously, “wish our first time wasn’t like this — but I’m so glad it’s finally happened, sweetheart,”

And you can’t help but smile up at him, lips parted with a small moan, as tears burned at your eyes from his size, “Me too, Sugu, wanted you for so long, needed you—” and he’s kissing your tears and words away with his lips,

Then he begins to fuck you — hard, the slapping of your skin and the wet squelch of your sex filling up most of the silence of the room, while both of your moans and grunts took up the rest. Your cunt was heaven to him — warm, wet walls wrapped around his aching cock — the slightest bit of relief was overcome with waves and waves of need — he needed to fuck you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside — he just needed you.

“S’big, Sugu, too big,” you whine, he was almost too much for you, the way his dick fucked places you only could imagine reaching, as his mouth leaned down to take a pert nipple between his lips — sucking and licking, as he couldn’t have enough of you, while his hand toyed with the other, “feels too good,”

“I know baby, gonna fuck your princess cunt so good — make sure its made just for me,” he’s murmuring, as his teeth graze your tit, as he pistons into you again and again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix with each thrust, “all mine, baby, fuck — such a good girl for me,” and the praise has you keening against him, the knowing flutter of your cunt that tells him you’re all too close to the edge, as his hand reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit, “cum for me, pretty, need to feel your pretty little cunt squeeze me,”

And you do, falling apart as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again — fuck, you felt so good, as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release forming around his base. He’s fucking close too — can feel his balls tense, eager to blow his load, “where—”

You’re still moaning, eyes blown out in pleasure, as you watch him fuck you again and again, “Inside, Sugu, fill me up,” and that’s it, he’s gone — spurting his hot release, painting your walls, as he does, fucking it inside you — deeper, deeper, until he stills for a moment. And you’re twitching, eyes fluttering shut, when he pulls out, a groan parting his lips as he watches his seed spill from your cunt.

But then silence for several moments, the soft pants of your breathing only, before you hear him swearing and grunting, as your eyes open, and your pussy twitches at the sight before you. Suguru’s hand slid up and down his still erect cock, his eyes squeezed shut, as he groaned, “Suguru—”

“Wasn’t enough, need more,” he’s shaking his head, as his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, “thought it would be enough to cum with you, but I can still feel it—” and he’s groaning, as you sit up, watching your mixed releases drip from you, “baby—”

And your lips kiss the tip of his weeping cock, “I told I’d help you,” and you ease his hand away, as you lick up his length, your eyes fixed on his, “just because we fucked, doesn’t mean we’re done,”

And in a moment, he’s got you flipped onto your hands and knees, as his cock slaps against your ass, his fingers squeezing the flesh, as he leans over to kiss your back, “Then I guess we’re gonna be up all night, sweetheart, because if you’re okay with this — I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with just a blowjob,” his tip drags against your messy cunt, “gonna need something a little tighter than your mouth,” and he’s sinking his thick cock into you again, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to fuck you, “better cancel any plans you have, pretty — because we’re not leaving this bed for a while.”

“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby,” his fingers grab your chin, and force you to meet his gaze, as he fucks into you, as you sit on his lap, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, “almost gonna cum, and don’t want you to be asleep for it,”

How many times had you fucked? You had lost count — but you knew you had done it in far too many positions — on your hands and knees, standing up, against the wall, from behind with his hand gripping your leg up, and far too many others — and now you were spread in his lap, cock deep in your pulsing pussy, his lips kissing your neck, as he fucked into you, his dick reaching a deeper angle from this position, easily able to hit the furthest parts of you.

He had cum in you more than you thought was humanly possible — and you supposed it wasn’t — it was only the curse that enabled this — it was animalistic even, the way he rutted into you desperately. He grabbed a water bottle only to take a swig, and find your lips again, forcing you to swallow the water.

“Good girl,” he’s grunting, his hips beginning to stutter, “I’m close baby, are you?” You hadn’t thought it was still possible to feel pleasure at this point, but it was — his cock dragged against your walls, his dark gaze finding yours, “tell me you wanna cum,” and your pussy twitches at his order, “use your words, pretty, or have I fucked them all out?”

“Please, Suguru, I wanna cum on your cock,” and you’re so fucking close again — the all too familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap any moment.

“Fuck, greedy pussy hasn’t enough of me? We’ve been fucking until the daylight now,” as his hand grabs your chin to make you see the first rays of light peaking over the horizon, and he’s making you bounce on him with each thrust of his dick — your orgasm building and building with every brush of his tip against your g-spot, “fuck, s’good for me, baby — been so good — just need one more and we can stop,” and tears stream down your cheek that only make him groan, his lips finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth right as his cock hits at the deepest part of you—

And you squirt all over him, drenching his cock and lap as you cum, your lips parting from him, as your head is thrown back, boneless, as he fucks into you, your spasming walls pulling him over the edge as he paints your insides with his release, fucking it into you, until he finally slows, your body draped on his, head resting on his shoulder. Bodies sticky with sweat and cum, his cock finally softens inside you, the heat finally beginning to dull, as he presses soft kisses and gentle caresses to every inch of your skin, as he lays you down carefully, pulling himself from you.

“Thank you, princess, thank you,” and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck, soft breaths cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin, “did so good for me,” and he slowly rises, grabbing his shirt and running it under water to clean you off, if only a little.

You’re already half asleep, eyes only fluttering half open to watch him, and he can’t help but bite his lip, “Sugu?”

“Yes, princess?” And you nod, fingers twitching for him, and his lips curl as he obliges, wrapping you up in his body, “know it was rough on you baby, I’ll make it up to you — don’t worry, just rest,” he grabs a water bottle, and lifts your head ever so slightly and helps you drink some water.

“I know you want to ask me something,” and he pauses, as he pulls the bottle away, “I can see the gears grinding in your head — you can ask me anything, y’know,” you had quite the way of embarrassing him, didn’t you?

“I know, I just,” he swallowed, “was there any other reason you came back to Tokyo, aside from the threats, did you come back for anything else?”

And your lips curl, raising an eyebrow knowingly, “Anything or anyone you mean?” and you chuckle when his eyes can’t meet yours, your fingers finding his again, “baby,” and your hand brushes against his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw, making his breath catch, “I did come back for someone — a very particular someone,” and he smiles, as your lips lean up to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “and my friends, of course,” you add, “I love Utahime, but I missed Shoko and Satoru, and you,”

“You did?” he murmurs, and you giggle, kissing him again, melting into his touch again, as your foreheads brushed against the other’s, “Sugu?” and it’s your turn to ask something now, chewing on your bottom lip, “can we do this again?” you murmur, before adding, “not like this but—“

And he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer, lips finding your leaping pulse, “Yes, we can, if you want to — because I know I do, because,” his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “but I want all of you — want your body, your thoughts, your time, your heart and soul—“ and his lips quirk at the sight of your eyes widening ever so slightly, “is that okay?”

And your lips find his own as an answer, sweet kisses turn languid, heat stealing any doubts from either of your minds, “As long I have yours as well,” and the two of you share only a few more kisses, before you both finally drift off.

“If he’s fine, and I’m checking on him, I’m kicking his ass,” Satoru grumbled, as he held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Shoko sighing as he rooted through his pockets for his keys.

Shoko chewed her lip, she hadn’t heard from him in hours, “He was in bad shape, I can't find the time to go check and you were on your way home anyway,” Shoko says, wiping her brow, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.

“Yeah, on my way home back from a mission,” he finally finds his keys, sticking Suguru’s spare key into the lock and turning it, “If I have jet lag, and all I find is him jerked off and sleeping, you owe me,”

He twists the knob, and looks — he doesn’t see Suguru in the living room or kitchen — but he does see takeout containers spilled on the floor, along with a very familiar bag, and he blinks, before his lips curl. He asks if she’s heard from you, to which she says no,

He walks silently to Suguru’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to see you and Suguru curled up against each other, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, the comforter strewn about and covering the rest of your bodies.

Satoru only grins, before he pulls his phone from his ear and switches to the camera.

“Never mind, Shoko, I owe you one,” and he snaps a picture of the two of you, wondering how many missions he could pawn off to Suguru now, “I’ll treat you to lunch.”

✧ a/n: so this turned out way longer than i thought (story of my life). i had so much fun writing this - i've been writing this in conjunction with prof geto part 3 and its been funny darting back and forth between these two -- although the scenes i've been writing

✧ taglist: @peachyminx, @garfunklefield, @unicornqueen05, @hiyori-ii, @equikaz, @unoriginalidea, @forest-fruits-jam, @torusinfinity, @hellkaiserinphoenix, @loonimae, @gojoedd, @sugurufic, @glaceliy, @telvess, @kentocalls, @nayasch, @iluvvreze, @yamaguccitadashi, @faeismism, @hanxyy, @catsgomurp, @sukaibg, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @gojorgeous, @getos-slvtt, @sirencholia, @teatreeoilll, @dewdropdive, @appysauc, @kobycetacean, @missroki, @fushitoru, @pricetagofficial, @that-goth-bisexual, @shoyosdoll, @regrettinglifechoices, @mostinsanegirl, @roseybean, @fayyyrieee, @gojobbg, @strangehuman101, @saccharine-nectarine, @i-belong-in-a-retirement-home, @spider-fan72

#sab [mlist]#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #geto smut #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x you #jjk x you

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

Text

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1] [Pt.3] [Pt.4][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

Danny dragged up another plastic wrapped body from the bay.

“It’s you. What are you doing?”

“Oh, holy smokes!” Danny screeched. “What-! Oh, it’s you! The litterer!”

Batman stood in front of Danny, cape draped around his shoulders and a far better sight to see than the last time Danny had seen the guy.

“… I’m Batman.” He introduced himself to Danny awkwardly.

“Uh huh. You missed a couple of things cleaning up the beach last time.” Danny dropped the body on the pebbled shore of the bay and crossed his arms. He sent Batman an unimpressed look. “You’re just like your city. There’s trash all over the water!”

Batman glanced down.

“That is a body.”

Danny scowled.

“No, that’s plastic. Plastic does not belong in the ocean.”

Batman sighed. For some reason, Danny thought he seemed less… antagonistic. Wait, did he think Danny killed the guy?!

“That is a body wrapped in plastic.”

Fuck it.

“If it was a body, then bury it. Or decompose it before you people decide to dump it into the water. Even the sharks have the decency to decompose when they’re dead. Do you know how long plastic takes to deteriorate??”

Batman glanced to the side, where the line of plastic wrapped masses had caught his eye to begin with.

“I do. Did all of these come from the bay?”

“Quite obviously, yes. I don’t have enough time to clean the waters! Ancients, it’s like they’re multiplying!” Danny knew why they were multiplying. It’s because Gothamites were getting murdered and dumped weekly. The problem is that Danny has classes and assignments to complete and he couldn’t be out here every week.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, will you? And how do you plan on doing that when you couldn’t even properly clean the beach of your plane? I even stacked it up nicely for you to pick up!”

Alright, so maybe Danny had a couple of grudges. Like… a solid one that’s based on the hours of sleep he missed cleaning up after Batman and the wreck.

“We didn’t get everything?”

“No.” Danny huffed. “Whatever. Just figure out what to do with these bodies. I was not looking forward to digging graves for all of them.”

“You were going to dig graves for them?” Batman sounded off.

Danny scowled again. “I’m dead, genius.” And now Batman looked like someone ran over his dog. “Respecting the dead is important and graves are important for the dead. How else would we know we’re remembered?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Humans,” he muttered, like he wasn’t half human himself.

“Anyways, I’m leaving. Handle this properly or else I’m haunting you.”

“Wait-!” Batman said, but Danny had already disappeared.

So, while Batman had an angst crises at two thirty in the morning and thirty new unidentified corpses to contend with, Danny Fenton flew back to his apartment and passed out on his shitty couch.

——

“You need to stop.”

“Pay me to stop, then. What are your villains going to do? Kill me? I’d like to see them try.”

Danny looked Batman right in his lenses and plopped another body down at the man’s feet.

“I can tell you who they are for a fee.” Danny offered the vigilante. “Some of these still have shades of their souls attached still.”

“What.”

Danny tilted his head, moon once more lighting a halo of flickering white flames around his head. “$100 per identity.”

Batman stared.

#sea cryptid Danny phantom #sea spirit au #dcxdp #danny phantom #bruce wayne #batman #bamf danny phantom #Danny the tired college student #Danny is broke #Batman is not #Danny: business opportunity???#sea cryptic! danny au

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scuderiahoney · 4 months

Text

Be Brave

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: none

a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!

In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.

The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.

You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.

Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.

Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.

The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.

“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”

You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”

Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”

“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.

You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.

“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”

“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”

“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”

Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.

“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”

Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.

“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”

You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.

“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.

“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”

He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.

“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.

He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.

“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.

“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.

He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.

“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”

Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”

Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.

“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.

“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.

“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.

With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.

You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”

The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.

“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.

“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”

“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”

He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.

Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.

“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.

“Never,” Lando lies.

“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.

“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”

Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.

Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.

“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”

Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”

The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.

“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.

Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.

“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.

The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.

“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”

A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.

You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”

“We were happy to,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.

“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.

You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.

“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.

You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.

It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.

Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.

And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.

“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“

You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.

“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”

Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”

You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.

You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.

The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-

Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.

“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”

You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”

Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.

“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”

You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.

“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”

Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”

“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”

Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.

“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.

“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”

Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.

Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.

“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.

He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”

Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”

He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”

You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”

He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.

“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”

Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”

You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.

“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”

Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”

He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.

He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.

“Who?” His dad asks.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.

“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”

His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”

Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.

On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.

“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”

He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.

“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”

You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”

She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”

You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”

You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.

“Got a secret admirer?”

You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.

Hi,

I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,

Oscar

His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.

“Just a friend,” you lie.

“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”

She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”

You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.

The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.

“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”

“Papaya,” you correct softly.

“Huh?”

“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”

You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.

“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.

“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.

She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”

“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”

“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”

“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”

You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.

…..

It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.

You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.

You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.

The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.

You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.

He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”

You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.

His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.

He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”

You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.

“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”

He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”

You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.

“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

He blushes. “Shut up.”

It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”

“Cool,” Oscar says.

“Cool,” you agree.

Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.

…..

Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.

“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.

You laugh. “Did you?”

He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.

When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.

Okay, maybe it is.

a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

#Oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri fanfic #Oscar piastri fluff #formula one fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formual one oneshot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #honeywrites #op81

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ja3yun · 24 days

Text

The Doll House | Park Sunghoon

doll!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (f.rec), fingering, dom!hoon (i didn't mean this, it just happened), begging but not really, horror elements, anything else lmk! wc: 8.9k synopsis: once you find out the dolls' secret, you're on the hunt to find out how they became this way. in the library you stumble across something and you're left alone with park sunghoon who promises to keep your rendezvous with jaeyun a secret from their owner, but not without something in return jaeyun | masterlist | jongseong a/n: hi! this is the second installation of this series and i'm enjoying writing it so so much! there's a little bit of the lore in here and i tried to put in some little nuggets like word play and everything to give you guys some hints! i hope you enjoy and as always, likes, comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

In the week following your encounter with Jaeyun, you've stirred something deep within him. Whenever possible, he finds his way to your side, lending himself to you as he helps you with your daily chores, holding onto your hand when you sit down for some relaxation time between cleaning and cooking, and most importantly - at least for him - he’s been fucking you like crazy.

Something about last week made him feel alive, stronger than he had ever felt before, and he wanted to have that feeling ignited within him almost every day. He coaxed you into having sex a second time around by using those beautiful round eyes to pull at your heartstrings and break your resolve and from then your embarrassment subsided and you used one another to your heart's desire.

Having sex with a doll puts you in the same bracket as those lonely middle-aged men who have no friends and find solace with their rubber girlfriends, which is quite embarrassing. But this is different, you like to think, Jaeyun is for all intent and purpose alive and might as well be a real human.

Sure, he doesn’t have internal organs, his skin is made from thermoplastic elastomer, and his doll shell is made from durable porcelain with insulated heat, but he’s as real as they come. You did ask him how he can get hard and fill you up to the brim with his faux seed, but he says it’s just the way he’s designed.

Soonyeol is a kinky bitch and she knew exactly what she was doing when she purchased these specific dolls.

You break Soonyeol’s rules almost every day because of him though, venturing into his room to fuck him silly, both of you seeking pleasure and comfort in each other's presence, holding one another close late into the night, swapping stories and laughter; it is nice to have someone to talk to, even if it’s in hushed tones.

Your inquiries into his origins and existence yield no concrete answers; after all, he's only been "alive" for a short time and consequently doesn’t know much about himself, his only offering is to explain that Heeseung and Jongseong know the most out of the four of them. And with your promise to Jaeyun to keep his slip-up of spilling the beans to you a secret from his brothers, seeking clarification from the other dolls remains off-limits.

That doll can get you to do anything he asks if he wants to and it’s almost embarrassing to admit.

As you go about your daily routines, you maintain a facade of normalcy, interacting with the other three dolls just as you did before discovering their secret. You speak to them as if they were merely inanimate objects, not expecting any response in return.

Despite your efforts to remain composed, a sense of unease creeps in the longer you’re in the room with any of them that isn’t Jaeyun. You can't shake the feeling that their eyes are following you, tracking your every move with an unsettling intensity. What once was blissful ignorance is now hyper-awareness.

At times, you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye, only to find objects mysteriously rearranged or misplaced when you turn to investigate. It's a subtle form of mischief, one that leaves you feeling disconcerted and off-balance, unsure of what other tricks they may have up their sleeves.

Jaeyun assures you time and time again that none of his brothers would act in malice, however, his words fail to instil any comfort, especially around Heeseung.

From the moment you arrived at the mansion, Heeseung had captivated you with an inexplicable allure, drawing you in with an intensity that bordered on hypnotic. It was as if he possessed a power unlike any of the other dolls. He was the one that got you to say yes to staying, you know it.

But beneath that surface charm, there's a darkness that unsettles you, a sense of malevolence that lingers in the air whenever he's near. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's a palpable sense of foreboding that hangs over your interactions with him, like a shadow creeping across your consciousness. He is dangerous and the soul - or whatever it is that he has that brings his doll to life - is entrenched in a dark cloud, one that you want to steer clear of for the rest of your time.

Despite your reservations, you find yourself drawn to Heeseung, unable to resist the pull of his enigmatic presence. But with each passing day, the feeling of unease only grows stronger, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath his doll facade.

You’re cleaning the library and the sun is beaming through the large windows, the hot sun adding an uncomfortable heat to your body.

You continue regardless, wiping your brow and dusting down the shelves with a lime green feather duster you found hidden in the kitchen cupboard. You wanted to do a good job but the library is extensive with wall-to-wall shelves filled with books ranging from present to pre-world war one and you’ll be damned if you’re cleaning each book one at a time; the feather duster will be your new best friend.

As you make your way toward the desk positioned in the centre of the room, a surge of curiosity washes over you, compelling you to indulge in a bit of snooping. The allure of uncovering secrets about the mansion and its mysterious owner, Soonyeol, proves irresistible, fueling your determination to explore further.

With cautious steps, you approach the desk, scanning its surface for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed documents. Your fingers itch with curiosity as you reach for the drawers, your heart pounding with excitement and trepidation. If there are any clues to be found, surely they would be nestled within the confines of this desk.

It’s ridiculous how exciting you find all of this like you’re in some James Bond movie about to uncover the deep secrets of the villain. It’s not that deep but you need to find some excitement in the quiet of this home, so why not make snooping around the fun part of your day?

Beside Jaeyun, of course.

When Jaeyun is with you, you don’t pry into the mansion, scared that he will take it the wrong way, like you’re trying to expose the brothers and their minder.

Listen to yourself, Y/N. You’re worried about a doll’s feelings, you think to yourself and cringe. It’s concerning how much you don’t want to hurt the doll but that’s just the effect he has on you.

Your fingers wrap around the drawer handles, eagerness flowing through you as you prepare to reveal whatever mysteries may be hidden inside. You gently tug on the drawers, but to your dismay, they remain firmly closed, guarding their contents from prying eyes.

Frowning in frustration, you give the handles a harder shake, trying to remove whatever mechanism is keeping them locked. Despite your attempts, the drawers refuse to move, it's secrets tantalisingly out of reach.

“Shit,” you murmur, trying one more time.

Your gaze wanders over the desk, looking for any sign of a key or secret compartment that may lead to the contents of the drawers. Your pulse rushes with excitement as you dig through the desk, brushing your fingertips around the edges in search of a secret latch or trapdoor.

However, as you scan every inch of the desk, your search provides no results, leaving you feeling irritated and dissatisfied. There must be some way to get those drawers open, there’s no way if there wasn’t something secret inside, some form of incriminating evidence about Soonyeol, that she would keep them locked up.

As you stand before the locked drawers, your mind flows with questions regarding Soonyeol's occupation and the mystery surrounding her actual identity. The mansion's vintage furnishings and rows of ancient porcelain dolls appear to point to a career in antique collecting, but an ongoing feeling of anxiety suggests darker possibilities. If she was a mere collector, how on earth did she manage to obtain four dolls who are alive? Is she just insanely clued up on possessed dolls and where to find them on eBay?

You look around the room to see if any pictures are hung suspiciously, all those nights of binge-watching Sherlock Holmes are coming in handy because you know now that pictures almost always hold either a safe or a taped-up key behind them.

You meticulously inspect each picture frame in the library, your eyes scanning for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed keys. You check portrait after portrait, your fingers tracing along the edges of each frame, but your efforts yield no results. Disappointment threatens to overwhelm you as you realise that your search has so far been fruitless.

Why is this proving to be so difficult? Surely there has to be something you can scope out, even a bobby pin would suffice at this point so you can pick at the locks.

Just as you're about to give up hope, your eyes fall upon an unusual floor-length portrait hanging inconspicuously on the far wall. It depicts the bizarre scene of a lamb with a human body, eating its sheep counterparts. It’s an unsettling fusion of outlandish and grotesque. You can't help but grimace at the tasteless decor choice, wondering what possessed Soonyeol to hang such a peculiar painting in her library.

“Seriously? She is one fucked up lady,” you wince to yourself, wondering why she couldn’t just have a poster of some kittens or literally anything else.

Despite your feelings of unease, curiosity overcomes you, and you move forward to inspect the painting more closely. As you reach out to touch the frame, your fingers brush over the edge, and you notice that it seems there is a gap between it and the wall, as if there is something hidden behind it.

With your heart pumping from anticipation, you carefully pull the picture from the wall, exposing a dark wooden door that is concealed behind it. Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that this may be the breakthrough you've been waiting for. With shaky hands, you reach for the rusted doorknob and give it a cautious jiggle.

But just like the locked drawers, the door remains firmly sealed shut, thwarting your attempts to uncover its secrets. You groan out loud, tossing your head back and shutting your eyes in frustration.

"What has a girl gotta do to find out what the fuck is going on in this place?" you mutter under your breath, your voice tinged with frustration and determination. You refuse to be deterred by this setback, knowing that you're not one to give up easily.

Gathering your resolve, you kneel down to inspect the door handle, your fingers tracing the contours of the keyhole with a sense of anticipation. You can feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on you, the tension in the air palpable as you prepare to uncover whatever secrets lie beyond this enigmatic door.

As you peer inside the keyhole, your breath catches in your throat, your eyes straining to penetrate the darkness that shrouds the room. Every fibre of your being is on high alert, a sense of anticipation tingling at the back of your mind.

But then, just as you begin to make out the faintest hint of movement within the darkness, something catches your eye - a faint glimmer of red light flickering like a flame from within the depths of the keyhole. Your heart skips a beat as a surge of apprehension courses through you, a sense of foreboding tightening its grip on your chest.

What is that?

Your heartbeat quickens as you realise whatever it is, it’s not good and it’s trapped behind that door for a reason. You squint your eyes further, trying to focus on the faint shapes you can see throughout the room but it’s proving difficult, the red beam being your only sense of light.

Time appears to slow to a crawl as you watch the red light pulse and flutter, its intensity increasing with each passing moment. Your palms go sweaty in anticipation, and the hair on the back of your neck stands on edge as you brace yourself to find out what is behind the door.

Then, without warning, just as you go to reach for the handle once again, the red light bursts brightly, obscuring your eyes. With a startled scream, you stagger backwards and deck onto the hardwood floor, your heart beating as adrenaline rushes through your veins. The room swirls around you as you try to regain some form of direction, your senses overwhelmed by the abrupt blast of light and the overpowering feeling of dread that persists in the air.

“Fuck!” you manage to yell out and as your senses slowly return, you find yourself gasping for breath, the remnants of the red flame still burning brightly in your vision, creating white spots behind your eyelids. With trembling hands, you reach out to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest as your blood pumps nervously through your veins.

In a daze, you glance to your right, your gaze falls upon the portrait you had removed from the wall and it's changed - it is now portraying a human head with a sheeps body, eating it's mesty carcass, blood smeared over it's mouth and wool.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you quickly rush to replace it, your hands shaking as you fumble with the frame. Your heart feels as though it's about to burst from your chest as you struggle to hang the painting back in its rightful place.

Finally, with the portrait back on the wall, you step back, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to steady your racing heart and swallow the sick that rose from the pit of your stomach out of fear.

But as you turn around, your heart jolts to a panicked stop in your chest as a new wave of terror washes over you. Sitting there, in the corner of the room where there was nothing before, is one of the dolls - Park Sunghoon, motionless and silent.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you are the last thing I need right now,” you say in frustration, pinching your eyes to extract the last few spots from your vision. It’s bad enough that you’ve just been blinded by god knows what, and now you’re being startled by Sunghoon’s sudden appearance.

Breathing out, you compose yourself and nod, “Okay, so I won’t be going near that door again,” you swallow thickly, trying to inject a laugh to lighten your heavy heart. Scouring around in Soonyeol’s drawers was one thing but you would rather be massacred by a hatchet at the hands of dear Sunghoon over there than find out whatever the fuck is behind that door.

As you regain your composure, a manic laugh escapes your lips, a mix of nervous energy and relief bubbling to the surface. Sunghoon remains motionless, his expression unchanged, as if unaffected by the chaos unfolding around him.

You approach him with a mixture of curiosity, noticing the pair of frameless glasses perched on his face. It's a strange sight as you certainly didn’t put them on him this morning because why on earth would a doll need reading glasses?

"A fashion statement?" you quip, tapping the side of the lenses lightly. The failed joke eases some of the tension that still lingers in the air, and you find yourself chuckling softly as you take a seat on the table beside him.

Leaning in close, you lift Sunghoon's chin to meet your gaze, studying his features with fascination and admiration. Despite the unsettling circumstances, there's a strange comfort in his presence, a sense of solace that washes over you as you take in his ethereal beauty.

His hair falls in soft waves around his face, his bangs framing his eyes in the most captivating way. His features are striking, from the delicate freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks to the sharp line of his jaw. Sunghoon's beauty is almost otherworldly, captivating you in a way that you can't quite explain.

"You'll protect me from whatever is in there, right?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood but Sunghoon sits mute and unmoving. You ponder if staying still like that hurts them or is uncomfortable; does it just come naturally? There are so many questions but after that ordeal, you’ll give up on prying for now.

You pat Sunghoon's cheek softly, smiling down at him before deciding to press on with your chores, hoping that the mundane tasks will help ease some of the weight from your shoulders and restore a sense of normalcy to your day.

With careful hands, you adjust Sunghoon's head to stare forward once more, a futile attempt to spare him any unnecessary discomfort - although you can't help but wonder if he's even capable of feeling pain. Setting him back in place, you make your way to the desk and retrieve your duster, ready to resume your duties.

Focusing your attention on the far side of the room, away from the ominous door, you begin to polish the ancient globe that sits near the entranceway.

Spinning it idly, you sigh and think about all the places you want to see before you die. You’ve been stuck in this city your whole life only going as far as hopping from city to city and you are in dire need of some vacation time. Maybe it’s the red light that almost blinded you, but you’ve never felt more of an urge to pack up and go.

Maybe it’s just this place you need to get away from.

But you’re stuck, something is keeping you here. Any normal person who saw what was behind that door would have run for the hills and never looked back, yet, despite the fear in your body that lingers deep inside, you don’t want to leave.

You’ve said this whole time it’s for the money but you could find work somewhere else, a job that wouldn’t give you chills in your bones.

Once you’ve settled your nerves fully, you want to keep investigating this place and find out why Jaeyun and the other dolls are alive, and unfortunately for you, you have a sneaking suspicion that whatever is behind that door might just hold your answers.

As you continue to clean, your eye is pulled to an object perched on one of the shelves: an old camera. Intrigued, you approach it, admiring its appearance with a mix of curiosity and nostalgia. The camera's folding body, made of worn leather, emanates timeless beauty and carved nameplates on the side hint at its extensive past.

Upon closer inspection, you recognise it as a model from the 1940s or 1950s, similar to the Agifold your grandmother used to own. Memories of her beloved camera fill your thoughts, followed by a twinge of regret that you never got the opportunity to use it yourself. But now, with no one to stop you, an opportunity presents itself.

Gently, you pick it up and inspect it further, opening the back to see some film still lodged inside. You gently pick up the camera, its weight cooling in your hands. Opening the back panel, you uncover a roll of film that is still wedged inside.

Raising the camera to your eye, you adjust the focus and squint, searching for the perfect angle to capture the essence of the room. With a steady hand, you press the shutter button, the satisfying click echoing in the silence of the room.

Flash.

As you lower the camera from your eye, a satisfied smile tugs at the corners of your lips. But as your gaze sweeps across the room, a chill creeps down your spine, and the smile freezes on your face.

Something is…different.

You scour the room, your eyes darting from one corner to the next in an attempt to discern what has changed so abruptly. It feels as though the world shifted in the blink of an eye, leaving you disoriented and on edge. The familiar sights of the room offer little solace as you search for any sign of what could have caused the sudden disturbance.

The painting of the sheep still hangs on the wall, which means the door remains shut - good. The books on the shelves remain undisturbed, their spines aligned in neat rows. The windows are shut tight, allowing only a faint breeze to filter through the cracks in the draught. Everything appears to be as it was before, except for one glaring absence.

Sunghoon.

Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that the lifelike doll is no longer within your line of sight. He has vanished without a trace, leaving behind only an eerie emptiness in his wake.

A shiver runs down your spine as you consider the implications of his disappearance. Despite Jaeyun's assurances that his brothers are harmless, you cannot shake the feeling of unease that settles over you like a heavy fog. Even though Jaeyun is kind to you, the others may not share his benevolence. In a house filled with secrets and shadows, trust is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the slightest whisper of doubt.

“You shouldn’t go around touching things that aren’t yours,” a hushed voice flows from behind you, taking advantage of your transfixed body to reach around your waist and take the camera from your trembling hands.

As he lets out a chuckle, Sunghoon moves around you with grace, returning the camera to its rightful place on the shelf. His towering presence now looms over you, casting a shadow that seems to swallow you whole.

Yet, you don’t feel threatened like you thought you would, somehow it was his lack of presence that put you on edge but now that he is standing before you, you know deep down you are in no harm. Your body relaxes a little, your spine finding its strength again as you straighten your posture.

Your movements amuse Sunghoon, his tongue running along his prominent canine as he smirks, “You don’t seem surprised?” he asks but it’s more of a statement than a question. He knows you must have already been in on their secret, “So was it Jaeyun? Did he spill like we thought he would?”

Jaeyun’s saddened face pops up into your head after your first time with him, begging you not to tell the others as they already see him as incompetent. The memory tickles your heart and you start to shake your head definitively, “No, I am shocked, look!” you say, bringing up your shaky hands to his eye level, a feeble attempt to convince Sunghoon.

“Oh really? Then why didn’t you question how I moved from my bedroom to the library without you carting me around in that fuck awful wheelchair?” Sunghoon queries, raising his eyebrow in mock suspicion. He knows you know, he’s just waiting for you to admit it.

“No, I…I just thought…I was…”

“You are a terrible liar, Y/N,” he scoffs out an endeared laugh and pushes your hand away from his face, “It was him, wasn’t it?”

Your heart pounds against your chest as Sunghoon’s stare holds you captive, those beautiful glass eyes slowly dissolving your loyalty to Jaeyun. You are trying so hard to come up with an excuse as to how you know their secret but the doll before you is so alluring in his beauty that your brain might as well be replaced with a tin of mushy peas.

He licks his bottom lip and starts to laugh as your silence becomes his confirmation.

“Shit,” you huff out, looking down, feeling bad for betraying Jaeyun like this. One tiny secret was all you had to keep and you’ve given it up without even uttering a word. Fuck these dolls and their power over your resolve.

Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief, “He really can’t keep his mouth shut,” he says to himself quietly, astonished that he even had any faith in the yapping puppy to begin with.

Your back goes up, eyebrows knitting together, “Hey! Don’t blame him like that,” you say defensively.

He halts his laughter and slowly looks at you, tilting his head, “Oh?...oh…” he mutters, a wide smile of bewilderment appearing on his face as he starts to piece you and Jaeyun’s relationship together, “How on earth did he manage to pull you? Did he give you a bat of his lashes and that signature pout? Did he make his eyes do that stupid sparkle? Hmm?”

You're taken aback by Sunghoon's accurate description, a mix of surprise and embarrassment colouring your expression. How did he know exactly what Jaeyun had done to win you over? Does Jaeyun do this with every housesitter?

Sunghoon watches your reaction with amusement, his grin widening as he sees the realisation dawn on you. "Ah, I see it now," he says, his voice tinged with playful mockery, "He's quite the charmer, isn't he? You know, he isn’t as innocent as he looks, he knows what he is doing."

You shift from one foot to another, looking down at your hands. It’s embarrassing for any woman to be hit with the truck of truth, especially when it’s about succumbing to a man, but a doll? That’s even more humbling.

Lifting your chin, he gives you a smug smile as he sees inside your mind, “You shouldn’t feel ashamed, baby girl, Soonyeol is the same. She loves it - to look after him, coddle him whenever he wants, and give him kisses in passing,” he leans down to make direct eye contact with you, a flash of something behind his iris’ brings you to attention as he continues, “That’s all that matters, isn’t it, that you have fun?”

You feel yourself nodding because he’s right. Inside of yourself, you knew Jaeyun was luring you into bed but you wanted it just as much as him, so did you really get played? And you enjoy his company, his constant telling of stories and his high energy, you’ve grown to cherish him with each passing conversation.

Sunghoon observes the gears turning in your mind. "Can I tell you something?" he asks, his lips whispering over your cheek. You nod, permitting him to continue, your eyes fixed on his as he leans in closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear. "He's been unusually happy since you arrived," he murmurs softly, "I think you might be his new favourite person."

His admission causes a warm flush to spread across your cheeks, a mixture of surprise and delight flooding your senses. Knowing that Jaeyun feels a similar connection to you fills you with a sense of happiness and validation. You can envision Jaeyun becoming a lifelong friend, someone you cherish deeply.

While his initial intent might have been to charm you into fucking him, the time you've spent together since then feels genuine and sincere. You take comfort in knowing that Jaeyun values your companionship and enjoys your presence for more than just physical intimacy.

Sunghoon inhales sharply through his teeth, a disapproving tsk escaping him, "I don't think Soonyeol would be too pleased about that," he remarks, pulling back slightly as if considering the ramifications. "After all, Jaeyun is her favourite, and if she were to discover you've been fucking her precious little puppy..."

Your eyes widen in alarm as you grasp the implication of his words, shaking your head frantically as you instinctively raise your hands in a defensive gesture, "No, no, no, you can't tell her!" you exclaim, your voice tinged with desperation. You find yourself on the verge of pleading, almost dropping to your knees in a last-ditch effort to appeal to Sunghoon's mercy, "I need this job," you implore, your voice trembling with anxiety.

Sunghoon's lips curl into a sly smirk as he watches your panic-stricken reaction. "Well, I suppose I could keep my mouth shut..." he muses, drawing out the suspense and relishing in your apprehension.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hang on to his words, hope flickering within you at the possibility of him relenting. But just as quickly as your hope appears, it’s gone as you see the dark shimmer in his eyes behind his glasses, the way his tongue is sitting on the inside of his cheek as he watches you.

“You can’t be serious? You’re blackmailing me into having sex with you?” you retort, the revulsion evident in your tone.

"I'm not a creep, Y/N, I wouldn't do that," Sunghoon responds, a hint of offence lacing his words. As you meet his gaze, you feel a pang of regret for assuming the worst about him. But he lowers his voice, his eyes hooded as they lock onto yours. "I'd only fuck you if you wanted me to," he murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You find yourself involuntarily rubbing your thighs together, a nervous habit forming as you bite your lip.

Sunghoon's hands find their way to your waist, drawing you closer until he’s pressed firmly against you. His nearness is intoxicating, and you can't help but tip-toe to etch closer to his face, craving more of his presence. His lips hover tantalisingly close to yours, teasing you with the promise of something more.

"Oh? Would you like that?" he asks smugly, his grip on your waist tightening as he effortlessly makes you melt under his touch, succumbing to him like putty in his hands. It's crazy how much power these dolls possess over you, their allure is irresistible and their influence undeniable.

His smug expression only adds to the internal chaos, making you feel both irritated and strangely drawn to him. You want this more than you would like to admit, perhaps it was the comfort he was bringing to you after your ordeal with the door, or maybe it’s because you’re an idiot that simply wants to fuck him.

Sometimes there is no other reason than pure lust.

Sunghoon's grin widens as he sees you surrender to him, his fingers dancing on your waist as he leans in even closer, closing the already minimal gap between your lips and before you can fully comprehend what's happening, his lips brush against yours in a teasingly soft caress. It's a fleeting touch, but it ignites a fire within you, awakening something.

You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are in this moment, how easily Sunghoon has managed to unravel your defences and ensnare you in his web of temptation. He is doing exactly what Jaeyun did to you last week, and just the same, you’re letting him because you want it.

"Tell me to stop," Sunghoon whispers, his voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. His hands continue their gentle exploration, tracing the contours of your sides with a feather-light touch that sends tremors of pleasure coursing through your body.

It's a cruel temptation, the way he places the power in your hands, knowing full well that you won't utter that simple word; not when every caress feels like fire against your shivering skin.

Instead, you close the gap, your mouth melding against his as your once shaky hands now thread through his hair, pulling him further into you. You can feel his victorious smile against your lips as he guides you to sit on the very desk you were snooping around earlier, pressing your ass against the edge.

He briskly undoes your jean buttons, his lips planting one long kiss on yours before he sinks past your tits and stomach until he is on his knees in front of your pussy. Teasingly, he pulls down your bottoms, slowly but surely exposing your dampened core to him.

“There you are,” he mutters, placing a gentle peck on your pubic bone, his lips lingering there as he savours the moment. He looks up at you behind his glasses and smirks as he sees your chest rising and falling in anticipation, “I’ll make sure you feel good, baby girl, don’t worry.”

His smirk widens as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he trails kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. Each touch is deliberate, calculated to elicit a response from you, and you can't help but arch your back in anticipation, silently urging him to continue.

With a soft sigh of contentment, Sunghoon grants your unspoken desires, his tongue delicately tracing the beginning of your slit. He flattens it against your tender flesh, savouring the taste of you as he lingers there, lost in the intoxicating sensation of your essence.

You grind your hips onto his face and before you know it, you’re riding his face, using your hips to move your clit along his rigid tongue. Your fingers desperately seek to find refuge on a surface to steady you, which they find in his hair, tugging gently at his scalp to help anchor you.

Sunghoon is loving it as much as you are, the smile on his face is a testament to this. He pries your legs further apart to sink his mouth further into your heat, the tip of his wet muscle now working in tandem with your hips to help you out.

"F-fuck," you moan breathlessly, your body arching instinctively towards him as he spreads your folds between the fingers of his right hand. Anticipation courses through your veins as he teases you with soft, long licks, each stroke of his tongue sending waves cascading through your body.

You're consumed by both pleasure and longing, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of his touch. Every lingering, deliberate swipe of his tongue against your clit makes it throb with need, and you find yourself clenching around nothing, yearning for more.

You want him to go faster, to get you to the edge quickly so he can fuck you against this desk, but at the same time, you're intoxicated by the slow, deliberate pace of his movements. He’s so good at this it’s almost awe-inspiring.

Sunghoon's long fingers stroke up and down your folds with a delicate touch, savouring the sight of you spread open before him. But he needs more, he wants to see you completely exposed and at his mercy. With a determined gaze, he shifts your legs over his shoulders, positioning you firmly on the edge of the wooden desk.

"Your pussy is the closest to heaven I'll ever get," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your needy expression. Your whimper for attention to your clit only fuels his desire further, "I want to make you beg so bad, baby girl," he adds, his voice dripping with need, "but I don't want to wait to see what it feels like to have you cumming on my tongue."

The plea escapes your lips before you can stop it, your desire overriding any sense of restraint, "Please, Sunghoon," you moan, your hips instinctively thrusting towards him, begging for his touch.

He can't resist the temptation any longer. With a hunger that borders on desperation, Sunghoon spreads your folds open once again, his gaze fixated on you in this new position. He licks his lips in anticipation, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening wetness.

His tongue flicks over your hood, teasing your clit with quick, back-and-forth strokes that send electric shocks through your veins. You writhe beneath him, lost in the overwhelming sensation of his touch as he expertly pushes you to the edge.

Sunghoon’s glasses steam up as he switches between licking and sucking your clit, drawing out moans of pleasure from both of you. There is nothing he loves more than eating pussy, the feeling of someone’s sweetness on his tongue is the best feeling he’ll ever know, he could spend hours just worshipping each and every cunt on the planet.

But he knew from the moment you walked in, that he had to have just one taste of you.

“Sunghoon, fuck,” you moan through bated breaths, holding his head hostage between your legs - not that he minds, the desperation your exhibiting only heightens his desire to consume every part of you, to make you unravel under his touch.

Your back presses against the desk, the crumpled documents from Soonyeol's work forgotten beneath your squirming body. In this moment, nothing matters except the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you both.

Sensing that you're on the brink of orgasm, Sunghoon dips two of his fingers into your warm, inviting heat, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Fuck, Sunghoon, yes," you scream, your voice filled with desperation and hunger as his fingers join his mouth to drive you wild. You're teetering on the verge of bliss, your body twitching with anticipation as he deftly guides you to the peaks of pleasure.

"That's it, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Let go for me..."

As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, you cry out his name, your body trembling with the intensity of your release. Sunghoon watches you with a satisfied smile, his own desire burning brightly in his eyes. His fingers never let up, continuing to pump in and out of you as your climax washes over you, coating his hand and even spurting onto his face.

Standing up, Sunghoon keeps his digits buried deep inside you, still wriggling them around as he leans over your spent body on the desk. "If this is you with just my mouth and fingers," he says, pausing to give you a sweet kiss, "then just imagine you on my cock."

His words send a shiver of want down your spine, and you can't help but imagine the feeling of him buried deep inside you, filling you completely. The thought alone is enough to reignite the fire of desire within you, and you find yourself yearning for more of him, for the pleasure only he can provide.

Withdrawing his fingers from you, he brings them to his mouth, licking himself clean of your cum. The sight has you gasping, wishing his mouth was back on you, using that tongue just one more time. Sunghoon sees the need in your eyes and smiles cockily.

"You want a taste?" he asks, already offering his fingers to your parted lips. You eagerly accept, sucking and licking them clean, savouring the lingering taste of yourself on his skin. "You taste unreal, right?" he remarks, his voice husky with desire.

You nod, popping your mouth off his fingers, "How can you taste me if you've got no taste buds?" you ask, genuinely curious. There's still so much you don't know about these dolls, and each revelation only adds to your intrigue.

"Ah, we're all different makes. Some have functions others don't," Sunghoon explains as he begins to undress, leaving him in only his boxers and glasses.

"So you can taste? What can the others do?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued.

"You bored of me already, baby girl?" he teases, deflecting your question with a smirk. His hands grip the bottom of your t-shirt, and with a swift motion, he lifts it over your head, leaving you exposed and vulnerable on the desk, "The real question you should be asking is what else I can do."

You lie naked before him, anticipation palpable in your expression as you look him up and down, suddenly intrigued by the possibilities. "What can you do?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, eager to discover the depths of pleasure he can offer.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

He pushes his boxers down, revealing his throbbing arousal. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, his length throbbing in his hands. Each time he pumps, the pulsing of the fake veins quickens. He presses his cock against your folds and you feel the pulse.

"Do you feel it?" Sunghoon asks, already knowing the answer as he watches you involuntarily move your hips, seeking more of the delicious friction his cock provides.

You nod eagerly, your desire mounting with each passing moment. The anticipation of what's to come sends a wave of heat rushing through you, and you can't help but yearn for more of him.

You understand Soonyeol a lot more now.

Slowly, Sunghoon guides himself to your entrance to let you feel the throbbing more intensely as he begins to push inside you. The sensation is electrifying, sending your body into a flush as he fills you completely with his length.

Imagine if every man possessed this kind of touch; maybe, just maybe, there'd be less reason to complain. It's like slipping into a dream, feeling his hands explore every inch of you as he eases into a gentle rhythm of thrusting.

You find yourself lost in the sensation, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. His movements synchronise with the rhythm of your heartbeat, building a crescendo of desire.

You can't help but draw comparisons to Jaeyun, though you don't mean to. Their approaches to pleasing you are starkly different. Jaeyun is fervent and eager, consumed by his own need for you. His passion is raw and primal, leaving you breathless and craving more, even as you revel in the intensity of his desire.

In contrast, Sunghoon's touch is confident and measured. Each thrust is a masterpiece of skill and intention, as if his sole purpose is to ensure you experience the pinnacle of pleasure. There's a depth to his movements, leaving you utterly captivated by the artistry of his fucking. He was born to do this.

Once he senses your body yielding to him, growing accustomed to the girth of his cock, he presses his hand firmly against your lower stomach, anchoring you to the desk as he intensifies his rhythm. His muscles tense with each powerful thrust, driving deeper into you with a primal urgency.

"God, you're tight," he remarks, a cocky grin spreading across his face. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose, his tousled hair falling into his eyes, "Are you sure Jaeyun's been fucking you?" he teases, his voice laced with playful arrogance as he revels in the control he holds over your pleasure.

As Sunghoon's words cut through the haze of pleasure, a pang of guilt tugs at your conscience. Despite the lust coursing through you, his casual dismissal of Jaeyun stirs conflicting emotions within you. Jaeyun may not be perfect, but he holds a place in your heart that you can't deny.

"I... I don't like when you talk about him like that," you manage to say between breaths, your voice wavering slightly.

But that only makes him pound into you deeper as you cry out. Your hands reach for his arm as you grip it tightly, trying to keep yourself grounded as he fucks you with an intensity like never before.

Sunghoon's response is a low growl, his grip on you tightening as he drives into you with an almost punishing force, "You don't want me talking about your little puppy?" he taunts, his words laced with a mixture of lust and disdain. The sound of the drawers rattling beneath you only adds to the chaotic symphony of pleasure and pain enveloping you.

Your head swims with conflicting desires, torn between the familiar comfort of Jaeyun's touch and the intoxicating thrill of Sunghoon's dominance. And as his thumb finds its way to your clit, sending bolts of ecstasy shooting through your body, you can't help but succumb to the overwhelming pleasure, surrendering yourself completely to the man who's determined to claim you as his own.

"I hit a nerve, huh?" Sunghoon's laughter rings out, a mixture of amusement and triumph lacing his words as he continues to tease your sensitive clit, each flick sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You try to form a coherent response, but all that escapes your lips are desperate moans and gasps as Sunghoon's relentless assault pushes you closer to the edge. Sensations overwhelm your senses, leaving you trembling and breathless in his grasp.

"What's the matter, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice drips with mock concern, his tone betraying his underlying satisfaction, "Did I touch a sore spot because you know I’m right? That pup could never fuck you this good, just admit it." His thumb circles your clit once more, sending a bolt of lightning up your body.

You bite back a whimper, your mind clouded with a mixture of arousal and frustration. The realisation dawns on you that you're caught in the middle of a rivalry, a competition between two men, each determined to outdo the other.

But amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions, one thing becomes clear - in this moment, there is only Sunghoon, his touch, his dominance, consuming you completely.

As Sunghoon redoubles his efforts, fucking into you so good you think you might struggle to walk for a week, you find yourself surrendering to him; but as long as you’re getting fucked like this, who cares?

"Sunghoon," you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your voice pleading yet smothered with arousal, "Please..."

He pauses, his movements slowing as he looks down at you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Please what, Y/N?" he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement, "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head frantically, unable to form a coherent response, "No," you whimper, your fingers clutching at the edge of the desk for support, "Fuck...don't stop."

A wicked grin spreads across Sunghoon's face as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear, "That's what I thought, baby girl.” He kisses you messily, his fingers circling your sensitive bud as he continues his pace.

Sunghoon's eyes latch on yours, a knowing grin on his lips as he awaits your release. The air crackles with eagerness, "You're almost there, aren't you, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice is deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine as his words stoke the fire inside you, "Just a little more..."

His words propel you over the brink, sending you spinning into oblivion as waves of ecstasy rush over you. You yell out his name, your body quivering with the intensity of your release as you surrender totally to the euphoria surging through you.

Sunghoon stares at you with dark, hungry eyes, his own release near as he continues to push into you with unwavering passion. He turns his thrusts from rapid to sharp, the vibration excruciating with each punch of the tip of his cock to your linings. He is so smug as you knock the lamp off the table by accident, too busy trying to escape the overstimulation you’re pussy is experiencing, but he holds you still.

"Give me just one more minute, baby girl, you can handle it, right?" he rasps, his voice thick with desire, eliciting a groan from you. He's moving with the intensity of an animal, overwhelming yet fucking satisfying.

His glasses teeter on the edge of his nose, moving by the force of his thrusts. With a swift motion, you snatch them from his face, placing them on your own and viewing him through a new lens. He's breathtakingly beautiful, with or without the glasses, but especially in this moment.

"Please, Hoonie, cum inside me," you plead, pushing the glasses to the tip of your nose. As Sunghoon takes in the sight of you, combined with your newfound nickname for him, he loses all semblance of control.

With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his release coating your insides as some spills onto the desk below. The vibrations from his cock cease, and he remains still inside you, his face buried in your neck as he trembles with the intensity of his climax.

Sunghoon's trembling subsides as he lifts his head from your neck, his eyes locking with yours in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, "You're incredible, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence, “I can’t let him have you to himself,” he admits, a smirk playing on his face.

You return his smile, your chest still heaving and your body buzzing with the aftermath of your shared passion. "He did mention that Soonyeol shares you all," you point out, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sunghoon nods, his expression turning serious as he brushes a strand of damp hair away from your face. "True, but she doesn't exactly fuck us every day," he confesses, his voice low and husky with desire, mischief evident in his expression.

"We don't have to..." you begin, but Sunghoon cuts you off with a determined look.

"You're fucking mad if you think for a second I'm going to let any opportunity to have you slip away," he declares, his tone leaving no room for argument, "I'll take you whenever and wherever I can, Y/N. That's a promise."

“Am I going to have to sort out a rota?” you joke, giggling as you begin to sit up, his cock slipping out of you with a soft pop.

Taking a tissue from the box laid on the desk, he wipes you down, something Jaeyun doesn’t do at all. But Jaeyun does cuddle which is something you can’t imagine Sunghoon doing.

As he tosses the tissue into the waste basket and begins to get dressed, you watch him with a mixture of affection and anticipation. "Put me on the first shift tomorrow, yeah?" he requests, his voice tinged with eagerness.

You nod with a smile, already looking forward to the next time you'll be together. "Consider it done," you agree, a spark of excitement igniting within you at the prospect of what tomorrow might bring.

You hop off the desk and begin to put your clothes back on, satisfaction courses through your body, yet your mind remains unsettled. There’s one lingering question you hope Sunghoon can answer before he retreats back to his room.

“Hey, Hoonie?” you shout before he reaches the door to exit. He turns around and looks at you expectantly, “What’s behind that door?” It’s a loaded question but one you need answers. No amount of fucking can make you forget that spine-curling red light.

Sunghoon sighs, his steps retracing back to where you stand, his hands reaching for your face. You wonder what he's up to until you feel him peel off his glasses, giving them a quick clean before settling them back on his nose.

“Do me a favour?” he asks, his tone carrying a weight you can't ignore. You nod, hoping he'll grant your request for insight into the mystery beyond that door.

“I won’t tell Soonyeol about you fucking us if you agree to stop sticking your nose into matters that don't concern you, understood?” his words sting, his stare unwavering as he awaits your response. Whatever lies behind that door is a sensitive topic, only fueling your curiosity further.

There’s no denying you need this job though, so with a reluctant sigh, you nod in agreement, accepting the terms of his proposal, "Okay, Hoonie," you concede, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your shoulders, "You have a deal."

Sunghoon's lips curve into a small smile, a glimmer of appreciation shining in his eyes. "Good," he replies, his voice softening with approval. "Now, let's keep this between us, shall we? Jaeyun doesn’t even know and if Heeseung catches a whiff that you know about that thing, he will kill you before you can even attempt to find a key.”

His warning sits like vomit in your throat at the mention of Heeseung, the most mysterious one of them all. You don’t know enough about the cherry-haired doll to debunk whether Sunghoon is joking or not.

You offer him a solemn nod, a silent promise to uphold your end of the bargain. But what he doesn’t know is that as he leaves, you have your fingers crossed behind your back.

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