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hhawks · 3 years

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AND YOU HAD TO GO, I KNOW, I KNOW, I KNOW.

✰ starring: sasha braus x fem!reader ✰ synopsis: in which you dread the life you live without sasha. ✰ content warnings: aot season 4 spoilers, literally like 400 words of fingering the rest is just me being angsty n sad sasha died ✰ word count: 2.8k ✰ a/n: song: memory lane

when sasha died, you should have been the first to know. you should have been, because if you did you wouldnt have made her favourite dinner in preparation for her return. you wouldnt have made the sheets, cleaned the house, you wouldn’t have waited day and night on that couch for her to open that door and come barreling in at you, talking at a mile a minute. you should have been the first to know.

or rather, she shouldn’t have died. she shouldn’t have been unprotected on that plane, shouldn’t have been caught offguard. maybe if floch hadn’t been so noisy, maybe if lobov hadn’t stayed out of the airship. maybe if jean had knocked her out of the way. but those possibilities could haunt you for days, and still grant you no reprieve from the grief of losing her. your most beloved. your girlfriend of four years, the only person who knew you, soul and body.

so when they come off the airship and you’re leaning against the railing looking for the glimpse of auburn hair, for the glint in her umber eyes, listening for the sound of her laughter amongst the other voices, you never find it. all that surrounds you is sombre silence and in your heart, you know.

you know what happened.

and yet it’s so hard to believe.

you see her body, still and beautiful and unmoving and her eyes shut as if she’s sleeping. you can convince yourself it was like that if she didn’t have a fucking hole blasted in the centre of her torso, if they aren’t carrying her out on a stretcher. you could convince yourself that maybe, if you close your eyes hard enough you can forget the pain etched forever in her face, the shock in connie’s and jean’s, the ugly stench of silence that hangs over the survey corps.

you can forget the way they look at you, with heavy eyes and heavier hearts. you can forget the way you came here with the weightlessness of a ring in your pocket, now leaving with the burden of the hole it’s burning in your pocket. you can forget that you have dinner waiting for her at home, that you would have to go home to an empty house, with no one to sit on the opposite end of the table, no one to chatter over mindless things.

no one to hold when the nights got a little too cold. no one to kiss when wine courses through your veins, sparking you with alcoholic courage. no one to love, to share your soul with, no one to be sasha.

you learn the days are hard, but the nights are harder.

“it’s only for a couple months,” sasha vowed, voice wintry, wavering. “it’ll be over before you know it, i promise.”

“i know,” you smiled gently. “still going to miss you. who am i supposed to feed now? i’ve got nothing to do without you here.”

“that’s not true!” she laughed, tinkling in the night. you wanted to hold on to it forever. “okay, maybe a bit.”

“all of you are going to marley,” you remarked. “i would say i wish i could go, but i’d be more dead weight than anything. i can’t even hold a gun properly.”

“and i hope you never have to.” sasha’s voice was gentle, hands coming to find yours in the sliver of pale moonlight that curves on your bedsheets, tangled in your legs. “i hope you never have to hold that wretched thing. and hopefully after this mission, neither will i.”

her lips found yours in the silence that grew between the two of you. her lips warm, honeyed starlight mixed in your spit. sasha kissed like she would never see you again, like a goodbye, like she had one chance to make things right in the world, and she took it. there was a passion behind her kiss, a fiery temper, a force to be reckoned with. but you never held up a fight. you never had to. sasha made you feel like you were melting, bursting at the seams. she made you feel everything, all things good in the world.

“when i come home,” she said, “we’ll get married. i promise. when all of this is over, we’ll live in a huge farm like my parents and we’ll raise cattle and grow wheat and i will love you, forever.”

“forever,” you repeated slowly, like the word tasted bitter on your tongue. “can you promise forever?”

“whether or not i can; i’m going to.” she shifted closer to you now, burying her head in the crook where your neck met your shoulder. “i love you. when i come back, i’ll promise you forever.”

when i come back.

when i--

“hey.”

you glance up. “hey.”

jean stands awkwardly in front of you, in his survey corps coat. the sky is overcast, little droplets of rain making home on your black dress, staining the fabric with tears of god. why are you crying? you ask him. you took her away from me. you don’t deserve to cry.

“i thought i’d find you here.” he says. “we, uh, you-- we-- connie wanted to ask you if you wanted to join us. we know that you probably-”

“i’m okay, jean,” you whisper hoarsely. how many days have you sat in this exact spot, back resting against her headstone? how many people have you watched come and go, stutter through apologies, making up some kind of condolence when they see your puffy eyes and half-hearted smiles? the pain is only made worse with every coming stranger, a poignant reminder that she’s gone, she’s really gone.

jean sighs. “no, you’re not.” he sidles next to you, knees bumping as he settles himself on the patch of grass. “and that’s okay. we’re here if you need us, you know that.”

“i know that,” you repeat. you feel the urge to usher him away, to reiterate, i’m fine, i’m okay, but the truth is, you’re not. you’ve spent your hours awake out of your house because the silence of your home has grown overbearing. everything is so still, so dull, like the sunlight’s been sucked right out of it, leaving it in chilly lifelessness. you hate it.

and you hate the cold empty canvas even more. you hate how you can roll around in your bed, how it feels miles long, rough sheets stretching on for eternity without a warm body next to you. you hate the warmth because sasha isnt tugging the covers over herself, you hate the cold because sasha’s chest isnt pressed to your back. she isnt. she isnt. she isnt.

she’s gone.

“you dont have to deal with this yourself,” jean’s voice brings you out of your daze. you’d almost forgot he was there. “we’re all in this together. you’re part of us, whether you like it or not.” he slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “sasha wouldn’t want you to coop yourself up in your house all by yourself.”

the mention of her name has bile rising in your throat. you wriggle your way out of jean’s grasp, plucking his arm up above your shoulders and dropping it back between the two of you. “please don’t say that.”

he hums confusedly. “say what?”

“that she wouldnt like this or that. she’s gone. it doesnt matter what she wants now, does it? she’s gone,” you find your breathing ragged, hands trembling. “she’s gone, and she’s not coming back for me.”

for me. for me. for me. how could you be so selfish? jean was sasha’s best friend, had been since they were 14. he looks at you now, pity painted across his face, underlined with a tone of grief. how could you forget he was going through the same thing?

“i-- i didn’t mean it like that--”

“it’s okay,” he reassures. “i would be distraught too if my girlfriend died. probably sucked even more that you werent around when she died, huh?” his words hurt. they punch holes in your gut, but you find yourself more appreciative than angry. finally, someone who isn’t treating you like porcelain. who’s telling you the truth, for what it is.

“i should have been there,” you start. “i should have been on the airship with you guys- i should have been there, i could have saved her--”

“that’s what we’re all saying,” jean breathes. “we could have saved her. if i knocked her out of the way she’d still be here. if we’d just listened to her, she wouldn’t have been hit.” his voice is wavering, and you look over at him, the dark shadows under his eyes, the stubble that lined his jaw. “they’re all what ifs. we can’t bring her back now.”

he’s right. you hate that he’s right. you hate that you get to live now, that you get to see the setting sun, that people get to live and love for the rest of your lives while the only person you’ve ever loved in your life is buried six feet under you right now. it’s unfair, you think, that no one gets to feel the way you do. that no one gets to feel the way sasha loved again, that no one gets to hear her voice. you think it’s unfair that you’ll never see her again, never be able to stand with her in your kitchen after dinner, whispering soft nothings in your ear as you sway in her arms.

you think it’s unfair that you get to live and she doesn’t.

on nights like these, with soft candlelight flickering by your bedside table, sweet sounds mixed into the twilight air, there was only one thing that mattered; the way sasha held you close to her as you came, murmuring gentle praise and how much she loved you.

“you’re so beautiful,” she murmured against your skin, her fingers expertly finding your sweet spot, where you unfurl and fall apart in her grasp. your gasps are soft, swallowed by her lips that find yours, her spit honey sweet and mumbling praise against your mouth.

“sasha--” you bucked into her hand, canting your hips in search of deeper, of more of her. you were crying, fat tears streaking down your flushed cheeks. she hummed, her fingers curling inside of you, buried to the last knuckle in you. “sasha, please, i’m-”

“i know, lovely,” she kissed your tears away, her lips like heaven against your skin. you squeezed your eyes tightly shut, the coil in your belly growing, growing. she was giving you everything and more, and you were taking it, swallowing it like you would die without it. the way you looked, fucked out and keening for your orgasm, sasha thought maybe you would. “open your eyes, look at me,” she whispered, free hand coming up to brush your stray hair from your face. “wanna see you. you’re so pretty, you know?”

you opened your eyes, catching her kindling gaze, kind and loving and filled with mirth. it was all lost to you, her gentle words, her affirmation. she showered you in it day and night, genuinely smitten with the way you wrapped around her, reacting to even the smallest of her touches. her love bled into her touches, gripping the fat of your hips as she fucked you into oblivion, until you were shaking, whimpering, “i-- i’m cumming, sasha, sasha--!”

she cooed, pressing kisses into your hairline as you came around her fingers, the lewd squelching sound of her fucking you through it a hazy thought at the back of your mind. “so good, so beautiful.” you looked at her, eyes glazed over and she had never loved like this before, so irrevocably, so inevitably. fate had brought the two of you together, and she was determined to keep it that way, keep you by her side. and she told you all this, when the lights were turned out, when you cuddled next to each other, noses gently brushing against the other’s. “we’re gonna get married,” she hummed, her hand coming to wrap around your torso, pulling you in closer.

“i know,” you smiled. “i’m already planning it. had it in my mind the day i met you.”

in the dark, a sliver of her face illuminated by glinting silver moonlight, she smiled too. and you felt at peace, felt on top of the world. with sasha in your arms, you in hers, there was nothing else that mattered. you two stood in the middle of a burning room, watching each other while the world fizzled to wet ash around you. as long as she was here with you.

you dream of her every night.

maybe they’re memories, or premonitions of a next life. but she’s smiling in every one, looking back at you as the sun bathes her in a gentle halo. she’s here, with you, just an inch out of reach, and every time you stagger forward, she moves just a little bit away.

it’s infuriating, to watch her slip away, to watch her go and knowing there’s nothing you can do about it. you scream for her, cry out for her to just come to you, to hold you for just one more second. “come back to me,” your voice is wrecked, hoarse from screaming into an oblivion, never to be heard for millennia. “please, sasha, i need you.”

and today, she stops. when you move towards her, she doesn’t move away. a breath leaves you in a trembling gasp, and you lurch forward until your body is pressed to hers. she feels warm, heavenly, hollow, gone. it’s a constant reminder this isn’t real, but in a moment of twilight, it almost feels like home.

“you have me,” she whispers to you, and it’s angelic. how long has it been since you heard her voice? “you always have me.”

“no, i don’t,” you beg. “come back to me, please, i can’t do this without you.”

she kisses you. it feels weird, like lips ghosting against yours rather than warm and supple, but you take it, you bathe in it, you live in it. you’re gripping on to her like she’ll leave, like she’ll disappear through your fingertips. her hands are clinging on to you too, and you think maybe, maybe, this is real. you sink to the floor, holding her in your arms, tears pricking the back of your eyelids.

“i’ll see you soon,” you hear her whisper. “only a matter of time.”

when you wake up, you’re alone. you don’t cry, you don’t scream like you did every other night. you lie there, and you wish for death to come, to reunite you with your beloved.

you don’t dream of her anymore.

maybe one day you will stand at the edge of the world, watching as it dies around you. maybe you don’t run away from the inevitable, you don’t try to escape your fate. you stay still, and you wait for it to bring you back.

maybe you see her in the dust, and you bite back your tears. only a matter of time.

maybe you’re crushed, reduced to dust on the surface of the earth. you become nothing and everything at once, you are dipped in heavenly glow and the excruciating pain of being human. maybe you come to be where you’ve dreamt of for weeks. maybe, just maybe,

she stands in front of you, her long brown skirt flitting in the wind, her hair undone and beautiful, framing her like a halo. sasha sees you, and she smiles. “i told you,” she says, and you can hear her even though she’s so far ahead of you. “only a matter of time.”

you launch into a run. you feel alive, more alive than you’ve been in months, lungs burning and legs moving and you’re running, running along stretches of white. the distance between you closes, and she hangs her arms open to catch you. you’re crying, of course you’re crying as you fall into her embrace, real and sturdy and warm and you’re home, you’re home, you’re home.

“i missed you so much,” you sob into her chest. “why did you- leave me?”

her face crumples, and you watch her amber eyes well up with the same tears. “i’m sorry,” she whispers, a hand coming around to cup your cheek. “i’m sorry i made you go through that. but i’m here now.”

you look at her. she’s here, she’s really here, and you kiss her. it’s sugar sweet and you’re burning in her hands, melting into her. and maybe it never ends, you never leave her side. and maybe, maybe, you’re alive again.

#sasha braus #i know people hate wlw content i don't give a fuck #sasha aot #sasha angst #aot angst #aot smut #sasha baby <3 #sasha x reader #writing tag #sapphic

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pa-panda-heroes · 3 years

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blue hour.

demon!au!dabi x reader nsfw; find the sequel here

Inspired (sorta) by this post. This was initially a 400 followers celebration fic but took so long I got to 500, plus it’s Halloween!! 🎃🎃🎃

i listened to Mothica’s song Blue Hour while i wrote this and honestly fell in love with it. hence the name! please go give her a listen!

Minors, go away. This content is not for you.

Warnings: brief description of kidnapping, tiny mentions of religion (nonspecified tho!) and human sacrifice, injury + blood mention, foul language, brief cremation, Dabi being horny (hehe), Dabi absolutely 100% not using magic on you nope, thigh fucking, orgasm denial, biting, dirty talk, degradation?, spanking, overstimulation, dumbification if you squint?

Words: 14k+

Summary: Kidnapped and held as an offering to an ominous demon, you thought your death was near. Soon enough you find your captor dead and the demon you were offered to becomes your savior. Dabi clearly has plans for you, but what are they? Or was everything just a dream?

Your heartbeat thrummed within your ears, sweat sweltering and becoming a thick layer on your skin all over, making the fabric of your clothes cling to it ever-so-uncomfortably. It felt like you were being smothered from head to toe in fabric. The cooled blood that began just above your temple and trickled all the way down your face and neck had dried by now, acting as a crusty reminder of the reason behind the throbbing in your head. Trees swayed in the chilly winds that passed, making the cool air even colder - yet here you were, sweating like there was no tomorrow. You were bound by the wrists and ankles to a musty wooden pole in a forest you’d never seen before, the sky dark yet bright for the blue moon. The stars looked so free, so beautiful, so serene tonight. Yet you didn’t feel it.

Your breathing was quick, panicked, and hurried to the extent that you’d take in more oxygen by breathing less. Your poor, puffy lip was numb from having been chewed on so much, to the point where you couldn’t remember whether you were a chronic lip biter or not; but you sure were, now. That is, until he gagged you by tying an old handkerchief around your face. You struggled against your scratchy, dry restraints so much, they began to dig into your skin and bleed, sending a trail of blood down your arms and a jolt of burning, throbbing, stinging pain through your nerves.

You were far from alone.

The only other human body you knew of was the one who put you in the position you currently find yourself in after a night of dancing, booze, and sweat. The inebriation from the alcohol made you an easy target, you guessed. God damn it all.

The night began with your celebrating a friend’s birthday at a club, drinking, dancing, and making merry. You had regretted agreeing to go at first after having a long, agonizingly tiring day at work, which gave you the burning desire to wrap up after a bath and lay in bed until the next day when you’d have to get up again. But as the night progressed, you were glad you tagged along; after all, it was an unexpectedly nice release after a bad day.

Now you were regretting it again.

If only you hadn’t gone to the club.

If only hadn’t agreed even if begrudgingly to go.

If only you hadn’t left your apartment.

You made the mistake of trying to find a bathroom on your own and ended up in an alleyway. The last thing you saw was a filthy dumpster before it all went black, and upon waking you found yourself bound in this horrifying forest.

Around you was a circular dirt clearing bordered with a solid line and filled with various marks made upon it, ones that you’d never seen before. They looked to be of a lost, long-dead language - the language your masked captor was evidently speaking as he sat on his knees with his hands in the air before a makeshift altar of a sort. There was some distance between him and the altar, probably about two meters, that being the same distance he sat from you as you watched in horror.

He was going to kill you, but not before torturing you - or other things. For some hideous purposes that looked a lot to do with a demon or something. All because you were a virgin that just so happened to cross his path.

You tried making noises, tried screaming, but it made no difference. He wouldn’t stop his hideous chanting and no one could hear you anyway. The thick forest swallowed your every scream and the gag held back your every cry. More tears run down your cheeks at your predicament, your struggling against your binds only digging into and stinging your skin as piping hot blood continued to trail down your tender wrists and ankles. It felt like frostbite was setting in. Was it actually, or was it your nerves?

A pillar of black smoke began to rise from the ground in front of your masked captor, who then bowed with his forehead to the ground. Your own heart was beating in your ears so quickly you thought it would explode any minute. If only it would - you wouldn’t have to endure this any longer.

“What... the hell do you want?” you hear a voice boom, distorted in such a way that made it sound like it echoed a thousand times. “Filthy human.”

“Your favor, my lord. I offer you this virgin.”

You try screaming again, your throat beginning to feel scratchy and dry. It almost felt like it was bleeding. Could it be bleeding? Your mind was almost a haze, now.

You can see a form emerge from the ground where the black smoke stands, and you’re stunned and scared into total silence as you see the silhouette of two large wings and a pointed tail. Other than that, the silhouette appears mostly human. But it’s not.

“My favor, eh?” you hear the voice again. The silhouette swings his arm and with it vanishes the smoke, and the reality that this... thing isn’t human finally settles in your heart. His hair is black and spiky, there are pieces of what look to be burnt flesh under his minty eyes and the lower half of his face, bound to the unblemished skin by silvery staples that seemed to spit steam. Three dotted piercings adorned his nose, and plenty more his ears. His wings reminded you of a bird’s with feathers and all, and they were a flat charcoal in colour, albeit they seemed a little worse for wear and severely burnt. The demon’s horns poked out from each side of his forehead and curled around like that of a ram’s. He wore a dark, simple cloak.

You almost wondered if he had goat hooves for feet.

He looks down on the human who summoned him, literally and figuratively, it seemed. His eyes narrow viciously at the man, before jolting to you - and you, honest to all that exists, feel what you can only think of as a bolt of lightning course through every nerve - no, cell - of your body before it feels like your heart stops beating. You can feel the blood coursing in your veins, and it’s ice-cold, all of this forcing you to tense every muscle you’re able. He looks away and you’re instantly back to normal, slouching in your restraints.

“Is this asshole bothering you, little one?” the voice of what’s clearly a demon rings.

“I-I beg your pardon, m’lord Dabi?”

“Shut your trap, moron.” Clusters of the brightest, bluest flames you’d ever seen erupt above each of the demon’s eyes and he leans downward to grab the man by his neck, before easily lifting him in the air as the human choked. “Y’know, back in the day, sacrifices in some cultures were an honor. It was seen as a gift, a way to serve ancient - nonexistent, mind you - gods. People vied to become a sacrificial lamb. I’m ancient, too, you know that.”

The human man stammers and stutters, trying to say something coherent but failing out of fear.

Dabi lets the man rest his feet on the ground as he jerks your captor to look at you, and you want to just shrink into yourself. “What the fuck is that, huh? Do you see the fear in her eyes? The bruises covering her body? The blood seeping down her arms as she fights against that rope? Does that look like a willing sacrifice to you? Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t think she is willing at all.”

You blink. What? How? Why?

“You piss me off.”

Dabi throws the masked man to the ground away from him, then raising his palm into the air and summoning flames to filter out of the ground. They swallow him hole, and whilst he’s screaming in agony and burning alive, the demon turns on his heel and saunters your way. “Well, this is quite a mess, eh, dear?” His eyebrows are pointed upward, almost as if the gentle tone behind his words is sincere, yet almost as if there is deviance behind them.

You can’t help but gulp at the look in his eyes. Smile and arch his brows as he might, he was still clearly a demon unfitting of your trust. Right? He was going to hurt you. Surely.

His hands reach up for your face and you shut your eyes tight and turn away.

Much to your surprise, fingers work away at the handkerchief splitting open your poor, stretched, and saliva-coated lips, and you nearly gasp at the relief of pressure on them, the ache in your cheeks quite apparent and downright agonizing. Not only that, but the corners of your mouth were rubbed raw, and you weren’t sure if there was saliva mixing with more saliva, or blood mixing with saliva at the site. Dabi drags a finger from the corner of your mouth up to your cheek to wipe away the tears staining your skin, and you have no strength to fight the shiver that runs up your spine as your eyes fall half-lidded.

“Fuck me, you’re lookin’ a bit worse for wear, little one,” you hear him coo. “Easy, babe. You’re alright. That ugly, scary man’s all gone.” He seems to chuckle at the irony, before a toothy smirk splits his lips. His teeth are sharp, certainly enough to puncture skin without much effort, and you shiver again.

You’re quickly relieved of your bounds, but with the little strength you have left, you’re not able to stand on your own and collapse into his chest, spent and sore. He’s warm. It’s... nice. Fuzzy. Cloudy. Soft. Where are you, again? What’s going on? Why is everything spinning?

Everything fades to black.

:·•·:

You groan and turn over in your bed, pulling the fluffy covers up closer to your head as your body ached. You were warm and settled in, nothing could make you leave the comforts of your bed, yet you knew you needed to. To explain the achy joints, you tried reminiscing the night before. You remembered that night. Parts of it, anyway. When you tried to remember the feeling of being bound or the blood trickling down your wrists, nothing came up. When you tried remembering the chanting of your captor - nothing. It seemed that any parts which could be deemed... unsavory were gone from your memory. You brought your wrists up and felt around them and-

Also gone were any wounds.

It was odd. You could remember it all happening, but at the same time, you couldn’t. Must’ve been some whacked out dream induced by the alcohol.

You had no want to, but you sat up in bed and reached over to your nightstand to switch he clock around so you could see it. It read about half an hour after midday, and you sighed. How long were you asleep? You picked up your phone from the nightstand and switched it on, your heart leaping into your throat at the amount of notifications. Texts, emails, calls, there were dozens upon dozens of them.

“How long was I asleep?!” you shriek.

“Enough to nearly get evicted.”

Your head jolts up so quickly you hear your neck crack, and you see the demon leaning against the wall in front of your bed. You can’t help but gasp and scoot away, your back banging against the headboard of your bed. It wasn’t a dream.

He waves his hand lazily. “But don’t worry, I got it covered. Congrats, you have free rent for life, now.” His wings, horns, and tail are all gone, and he almost looks human, save for the staples and scars. You guess he can’t change his appearance much. Perhaps he doesn’t want to.

The teeth showing off from his smirk look just as sharp as before, however.

Your eyes are drawn to the huggies piercing the cartilage of his ears. They’re as shiny and plentiful as you remember. Your heart rate spikes, and you begin to breathe heavily.

“That soreness is probably from you bein’ out so long, sweets,” he comments, arms crossed in front of his chest, his right ankle also crossed over his left. His voice is smooth and a clear attempt at comforting you - yet there’s something behind it.

“Th-thank you. For saving me, and... the rent... I guess.” You hoped he would leave if you thanked him. Why else would he stick around?

He only shrugs, though. “Sorry, little one, but you’re not special. That sacrifice wasn’t done right in the first place.”

‘Ouch!’

Ah, you remembered that, now. But you couldn’t remember his name.

“What’s your name?” you ask hesitantly. He’s obviously not going to kill you by now. Why would he stick around?

“Dabi.”

“That’s it?” You tilt your head. You were surprised at how... nonchalant you were beginning to feel about this. The longer he stood there, the more it felt normal.

“That’s it, dollface.”

:·•·:

He ended up not having goat hooves for feet.

You knew there was a catch to being saved by that demonic bastard.

Aside from the fact that he wouldn’t leave you alone, keeping a demon cooped up in your apartment wasn’t easy. It especially wasn’t easy when said demon was constantly on your heels, pressed right up against your back. Personal space was not in his vocabulary. Dabi was constantly up to something, and he loved to harass or scare your neighbors with his devilish form; it was just too easy. “What else have I got to do while you’re gone all day?” he’d say. “Gotta entertain myself, somehow, doll.”

Apparently, it had been a long time since someone had summoned him at all, let alone with an offering of some kind. He hadn’t seen the mortal realm in hundreds of years, and because you were offered to him, he decided to stick around you. You only agreed to it as long as he never left your apartment.

Well, technically. He wasn’t actually giving you a choice, he was going to stick around anyway. Dabi so loved giving innocent mortals the impression that they were in control when they never truly were. The demon practically got off on the idea of giving a helpless little thing like you a false sense of security.

Having him essentially stuck to your hip, you couldn’t let him cause any trouble with the human world, be it harmless pranks or downright murder; hence why you left a line of salt in front of every opening to your place one day, to keep him home. He was a curious demon, a sketchy one.

And a bit of a horny one, at that.

If the groping or peeking in on your showers wasn’t enough of a clue, the fact that he did everything else in his power to seduce you certainly was.

Demons don’t sleep. They’re immortal, they don’t need to. Yet, as you lay snuggled up in your bed at night, he always snuck in with you to poke and prod at you, the exchange usually ending with you kicking him out of bed - sometimes literally. Other times, he’d randomly lean into your ear and say the filthiest things you’d ever heard - and then some, obviously - to get a rise out of you, giving him the opportunity to tease you about unconsciously clenching your thighs, whether it was for friction or out of denial.

You were starting to think he was a damn incubus.

But no, he denied that. He looked almost insulted when you made the insinuation before explaining that incubi and succubi are one and the same, changing back and forth between male and female. First as a succubus, the demon collects... “seed,” and then transforms into an incubus to “plant” it. He could change his physical appearance if he so wished, but he never had much want or need to, save for hiding away or using his devilish form; nor could he procreate, he was so proud to tell you.

It seemed the fact that you were a virgin only spurred him on to seduce you. With Dabi being the vile and damned being that he is, you thought he wouldn’t give a damn (ha) if you consented or not at first. The thought was honestly horrifying. Yet not once had he forced you or went too far. It was “poor taste,” he once said, there being no fun in it. You wondered if his rule of consenting sacrifices played a part in his discipline.

And of course, Dabi would go on about how badly he, a demon, an unsavory being to say the least, wanted to be the one to take your virginity and “defile” you, “the pure, innocent treat that you are.”

Defile? Really?

And treat?

‘Pick better wording next time you sex-starved, pointy-tail-having, staple-wearing, horned son of a bitch,’ you thought sarcastically, shoving dishes into their proper places after having dried them. He’d left you alone for most of the day, talking to you and treating you like he was a normal human being. ‘Then, maybe I’d consider letting you get your dick wet.’

Would you, though?

Nah...

Right.

One of the plates was a little wet still, and managed to slip out of your hand and shatter on the counter in front of you. You yelped when a shard cut into your palm after you’d instinctively reached to catch the plate, failing miserably. “Dammit,” you mutter, holding your left hand up to inspect the cut. From the looks of it, no stitches were needed, but it still stung like hell.

You should’ve known better than to think he cooled his jets for the day, because in an instant he’s standing next to your left side and reaching for your wrist.

“It’s fine, just a tiny cut,” you mutter, quirking a brow as he seemingly glares at the wound. “I think I’ve got a first-aid kit somewhere... Have to keep it clean, at least.”

“Nah, don’t need it,” he mutters, before pulling your hand toward his mouth. His tongue slithers out from between his lips and drags along the cut in your palm, the wet appendage searing against your skin.

A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation, and yet another soars when you see the hungry, predatory look in his eyes, which are fixed on your wound. You can’t help the gulp that sounds from your tight throat, or the yelp that fights out of your lips when his whole mouth latches onto the fatty part of your thumb where the cut is. Your knees begin to feel weak and your eyes fall half-lidded.

Dabi sucks on the flesh there, licking the wound occasionally as well. His eyes then flicker to yours, and they burn into you like no other ever has. You feel the heat of a blush trail up your neck and to your cheeks and ears, your heart thrumming in your chest and lips slowly falling open just a tad as he licks away at the opening in your skin.

“Ah-“

The demon pulls away with a pop from one final suck of your flesh, whilst a trail of his saliva - do demons have saliva?! - hung between your hand and his mouth. “See? Take a look.” He pushes your hand towards your view, and amidst the clear wetness on your skin, you see no wound at all.

Your mind flips back to the wounds you should have had from that night.

“Back then... did you... y’know...”

“Naah. There’s spells and the like for bigger stuff like that,” he explains nonchalantly with a shrug. He almost seems proud of himself with his next line. “Tiny paper cuts like this can be taken care of with good ol’ fashioned demon spit. It’s nice, huh?”

You deadpan at him. “No, it’s totally gross.”

Dabi chuckles at you, waving a hand as if to wave you off. “Admit it. Your virgin ass enjoyed it.” His words are crass, but you know he’s only teasing and they’re not meant to insult.

Yet it still riles you up.

That heat crawls up your neck again, and you huff at him. “Shut up!” you gripe, then turning away from him to at least try to clean up the dish shards. There was nothing wrong with being a virgin! A lot of people wait for the right person, or they just aren’t ready. People have their reasons, and there’s no shame in it! Just like there’s no shame in being the opposite. As long as it’s healthy, that’s all that matters!

“Jerk! You seem to forget whose apartment you’re squatting in!” you grumble, scooting the pieces of the plate you broke together - ever so gently - with a washcloth from the sink. “I could kick you out, y’know.” You forgot for a short moment that he managed to achieve free rent for life for you, but you told yourself it wouldn’t matter anyway. It was still your apartment, after all.

“Really, now?” The demon scoffs, then leaning against the counter and crossing his arms - clearly at you. “How would you go about that, little mouse?” His tone is unconvinced and sultry, the look on his face painted with doubt.

You avoided eye contact with him and perused the kitchen for a plastic bag before marching back to the mess of plate shards and trying to sweep them off the counter and into the bag. “I’d exorcise you,” you mutter. Finding a priest in this area would prove difficult, but you could manage to find one willing to travel. You could do it if needed.

Dabi only laughs you off, though. The sound is smooth and velvety, yet you’re left to describe it as littered with smoke and ecstasy. “C’mon, doll! That wouldn’t work,” he says finally. “Besides, we both know you don’t wanna do that. You like havin’ my sorry ass around too much, eh?”

“Ha! You’re right about you being a sorry ass,” you sass with a huff before tossing the bag into the waste-bin.

Oddly enough, while you’d never tell Dabi this and end up stroking his already massive ego, you felt safer with him around. It was hard to pinpoint why. Nothing had happened for him to be called to protect you; however, you lived in a less than savory part of town, which wasn’t entirely unbearable, but shit still happens. And you’ve already been abducted once, leading to your acquaintance with this horny (I’m more ways than one) asshole. Maybe it was because you knew part of what he can do, all that aside. Push comes to shove, he’d protect you, right?

That was a nice thought to have, if a bit naive, you thought.

He was a demon, not a guardian angel of some sort. He had no obligations to you.

Yet here he was, still living with you over a month after that awful night.

Your thoughts are completely swept away when you’re pushed by the hips against the counter with your back to it, your hands instinctively bracing the edge on each side of your hips for support. The demon’s face is immediately in front of yours, his breath easily filling your nostrils with an ashen smell. You see those horns of his again and have to fight the urge to reach up and grab one, maybe even give it a tug. He’d probably cremate you for it.

Could he hear your thoughts? Previous instances somewhat insinuated that he could, but he never admitted to it - or denied it.

Dabi was right. You don’t want to get rid of him. Especially not when he’s looking at you like that. There is an intensity in those half-lidded, fiery eyes of his that has never before been directed at you by anyone, and it leaves you wishing you could read his thoughts. Are his eyes merely looking at your own, or are they bearing into your soul, calculating and appraising it?

What you can tell is that it’s full of impatience and want. Greed. Lust. And so much of it all.

You tilt your chin down a bit and look up at him with a gulp quietly. You can’t think of anything to say, and tension builds within your chest as you search; you feel as if that silence ought to be filled, yet here you are, at a loss for words as you stare at your own reflection in his glossy eyes. On the other hand, he seems totally content letting you lie in it, letting you squirm for him as he smirks.

And so you look away, bringing your hands to your chest and holding them there bashfully. The sleeves of your sweater are soft and warm and plush - just how Dabi would describe you right now.

This maneuver of yours not being what he wanted, Dabi scowls a bit and grabs your chin to essentially force you to look at him, his thumb ghosting over the softness of your lower lip. He tilts his head at you almost curiously, perhaps evaluating your reaction as it’s been so long since he has seen or felt the mortal world. Those eyes narrow at you, though not out of ire. Dabi’s thumb pokes at the crevice between your lips, and the rest of his fingers on your jaw tug downward.

Confused, you comply anyway and part your lips for him, only for his thumb to invade your mouth and press hard on your tongue, coaxing you to gag and instinctively grasp both hands on his wrist. You attempt to pull it away, to relieve the pressure in your mouth, but he doesn’t want that.

Hell, in reality, neither do you. You just don’t feel like gagging and clouding your vision with tears.

Aw, you poor dear.

With a contemplative hum he pulls his appendage out of your mouth and holds it not far from your mouth, as if planning another venture into your wet cavern. You can’t help but stare at the string of saliva still connecting your lips and his hand as it glistens in the low lighting of your kitchenette.

“Open back up for me,” he huskily demands, but it’s not cruel and dictating, so you comply, entranced as if under a spell. But you know you’re not. This time, it’s his forefinger and middle finger that roam between your teeth, and as if he had told you to do so telepathically, you close your lips around them. With an innocent, doll-eyed look, you suck his fingers and lick at them with your tongue, earning yourself hushed praises and a searing trail of touches up your ribcage and back down. You continue to lick away, occasionally wrapping your tongue around his digits or cradling them as you suck on them, coating them in your saliva as some of it trails out one of the corners of your mouth. They feel cold, as if there was a lack of circulation, and it only spurs you on to warm them with the toasty cavern of your mouth and soft plushness of your tongue.

You’re sure you’re less than apt at this, but the praise and touch you’re receiving helps you feel less... off.

Dabi leans in for your ear, his hot breath against your cartilage sending a chill down your spine before his wet tongue laps at it, and you jump in your skin at the burning, completely unknown sensation. It’s so hot it almost stings, but it’s not painful; tingly, maybe. In the process you lean away to your left a bit, at which he seems to pause. But then you lean back as if to tell him to go on, and you can nearly hear the simper he gives just before he latches onto your ear, licking and nibbling away as you tremble and whimper around his fingers. The heat at your core throbs in tandem with your racing heartbeat, creating a melody of your arousal that you hoped only you could witness.

But you knew better than to doubt the senses of a demon.

“You’re doin’ good, doll,” he breathes into your ear, aggravating the sound of blood flushing through your ears and the thump of your heartbeat. “Such a good girl for me...”

The digits in your mouth get a little adventurous and explore your wet cavern a bit, but they’re quick to push down on your tongue again and you gag around them. Tears start to pool within your eyelids and your whimper is stuck in your throat.

The demon then unceremoniously pulls his fingers from your mouth to reach down at the hem of your sweater and yank it up over the swell of your chest, leaving your torso and bra-covered breasts bare. Dabi seems to drink up the sight of you as if it were a sweet wine he hadn’t indulged in for centuries. Both his hands then trail ghostly fingers - really, they felt like spiders - up your belly and to your sternum. You shiver and a mewl fights out of your throat unexpectedly, your back arching unintentionally toward him as you clutch onto his forearms. Dabi lets out a hot breath, just thereafter his hands roughly squeeze your breasts through your bra as he grinds his pelvis against yours, the outline of his hardened cock clear as day against you. You don’t even try to fight back the moan it elicits as your head droops back at the stimulation.

Why bother, right?

The inhuman entity before you takes the opportunity to use your open mouth, his own latching into yours and tongue exploring your mouth in a battle for dominance you have absolutely no hope to win as he makes a mushy mess of you. You accidentally lacerate your tongue on the sharp point of one of Dabi’s teeth and flinch a bit, the sting on your tongue nearly coaxing you to pull away while the taste of iron floods your mouths. That tase you could certainly live without only encourages him, as Dabi growls and grips the base of your neck to hold your head in place as he quite metaphorically devours your tongue with his own, before his teeth latch onto your lower lip and you squeak in surprise as he pulls away.

“Aw, what’s’a matter, little mouse?” Dabi taunts, left palm dropping to rub against your clothed sex.

“Ah, Dabi-!” You jolt at the sudden stimulation on your clit and breathe in hard. Even if there are a couple layers keeping his bare hand from touching you, if feels damn good to have someone else touch you like this. Ripples of warmth flood through you and you feel your body temperature rocketing. Your own breath feels as though it’s on fire as it leaves your heavily salivated mouth and bloody lips in rabid succession, alongside your increasingly rapid heartbeat. Your grip on his firm arms tightens and you resist the urge to grind against him as he continues his ministrations. “Fuck...” Your lips throbbed, yet you weren’t sure if it was from the tiny wounds he created or your blood pressure spiking.

“Hm?” The demon hums, inquisitive and high in pitch - yet maybe condescending. “‘Fuck,’ huh?” His grip on the back of your neck relaxes only slightly before his tongue pokes out of his mouth and drags along your lower lip, lapping away at the blood pooling there and drawing a slight whine from you. “What about it? You sayin’ you want me to fuck you, doll? Tell me.”

Blood rushes to your face like there was a race and your eyes wander from his bashfully, instead choosing to look at the horns cutting through his spiky black hair. He’s right, you do, you have to admit it. But admitting it out loud was embarrassing! With a gulp you elect to simply nod, but his brows furrow and he’s clearly unimpressed considering the animalistic growl that claws out of his throat.

“Hey, I’ve been locked away from you humans for so long, y’know,” he breathes, his voice dark and low. “I’m a bit behind on gestures. You have to tell me.” This time, you can tell by the almost playful tone of his voice that he’s really lying and just trying to make you admit it aloud. Dabi’s palm leaves you before moving up to the waistband of your jeans while his other hand snakes up your neck and latches onto a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, say it. Where’s all that spunk from earlier? You’re all bark and no bite, little one.”

“Y-yes, Dabi. I... I want you to fuck me.” You finally meet his eyes again, and the hunger in them from before hasn’t faded at all; it’s only deepened. What else has changed was the hunger and arousal in your own eyes.

That smirk appears again and Dabi leans into your ear. “You want me to fuck you,” he parrots, “do you? You want my demon cock to take your virginity and fill you up? You want me to fuck you against this counter until your voice gives out? You’re a slut after all, little one. Beg like one, then.”

Your thighs clench together and you gulp. This was... not how you fantasized your first time to carry out. “Demon cock” was not something you’d ever thought you would hear someone say.

But who cares? Not you.

“Yes, please. Please!” You tug at his jacket in an attempt to coax him toward you, your knuckles turning white from your grip. “Please, fuck me with your demon cock...” Your this time voice is less loud and demanding, albeit it’s more desperate and pleading. “Please.” Your voice breaks this time.

Nor was it something you thought you would ever say.

A groan rumbles from Dabi’s chest. “Good little human. Keep it up, yeah?”

You squeak as he roughly yanks your sweater over your head before working to unbutton your jeans, his lips and teeth savoring your neck all the while. Your head cranes back again, a mute gasp leaving you at the sensation of his searing tongue on your recently sweat-slicked neck as his fingers work to remove your bra before they move onto yanking your panties down. At least, you thought he yanked them down, but a quick glance to the floor revealed he ripped them off, rendering them unusable.

“I liked those!” you whine, still panting.

“Tough luck. I didn’t.” It’s not like you need to wear panties around him anyway. He’d burn every pair you owned to mere ashes if it meant getting you to waltz around your apartment with no panties. They just got in the way.

“Daabi! Why would you-

“Oh god!”

You jump and thrust against Dabi’s hand when his fingers run through the slick of your soaked cunt, your breathing ragged, while he gathers the slick abundant there and edges toward your clit. His tactic coaxes ripples of pleasure that lull a low moan out of you.

“Ha,” he scoffs in your ear, “no gods have anything to do with it, babydoll.”

Dabi’s fingers finally work their way to your clit and circle around it a few times before rubbing in a steady rhythm around it. You moan at the combination of the bliss he gives you and the pet name, and your legs instinctively open wider for him as you mewl.

“I’m really not sure you are a virgin, doll,” he starts with a chuckle, “You’re fuckin’ soaked, you know that? Like a slut begging for my dick.”

“D-Dabi!” You flinch at the sinful words he’s spitting at you, embarrassed.

The demon’s digits leave your clit and trail back through your folds, and the wet, lewd sounds that result almost surprise you more than the fact that you want to fuck a demon. You buck your hips in hopes of encouraging his fingers back to your clit, albeit his other hand distracts you with a flick to your nipple, before it rubs circles over the sensitive nub as the rest of his hand palms at your tit.

“Ah, feels so good,” you find yourself muttering.

In response his ear seems to twitch. “Speak up.” His lips are sucking and nipping at your neck, either ignoring or enjoying the layer of sweat built up on your skin as the heat coming from his body begins to overwhelm you. Not that you mind either way. He’s definitely leaving a mark here and there as he works around your neck. Not that you mind either way.

“Your fingers... ah, feel so good!” Your head cranes backward, your hands dropping to the counter against your ass for support as your legs begin to feel weak. The shockwaves of pleasure his hands send through your nerves leaves you feeling weak and mushy.

“Good. Now hold still.”

You give a confused look, eyebrows pointed upward before you feel the tip of his digit poke at your weeping hole, eliciting a loud gasp from you when his finger plunges into your pussy with no reserve. You hiss at the sudden intrusion, you walls stretching pleasurably yet painfully as he slowly moves his finger around, letting you adjust. His other hand merely plays with your breast.

Biting your lip, you lean forward and plant your sweaty, flushed forehead on his shoulder. “Hey, it kinda hurts,” you whine.

“Just relax, doll.” Dabi’s voice isn’t as crass as it was before, nor is it entirely soothing. You figure he just doesn’t have it in him to coddle you, being a demon and all that.

You whimper as Dabi ever so slowly thrusts his finger in and out, the mixture of pleasure and pain not at all what you’d expected. When his finger hits a spongy spot, you jolt and moan for him, and he takes the opportunity to take over your mouth again in a wet, hurried kiss with a groan. Dabi swallows any and all sounds that you make, and in the process you feel the hand on your tit move downward to your hip before it swings around and wraps under your thigh to lift your knee up to his hip level. The muscles of your legs tensing and the choked moan in your throat tell him the pain is starting to very slowly fade away. At the realization, he carefully dips another finger into you and you moan, higher in pitch, into his mouth before he pulls away to stare at the sight of his fingers fucking into you for only a short moment. Dabi is then quick to shove his tongue back into your salivating mouth.

The lithe digits within your wet walls pick up pace gradually, giving you time to adjust and not barreling into you. By now there is still a barely-there stretch, and all the pain has essentially faded as the assault on your nerves takes place and you near an orgasm. Your eyes lull shut and your head cranes back, your hips almost thrusting involuntarily on his fingers as his pace keeps increasing and pushing you over the edge.

“I’m- ah, I think I’m...”

Dabi hums as if requesting you repeat yourself or perhaps simply acknowledging your sputtering, but you’re too busy moaning louder and and thrusting into the palm of his hand, to do so, as the coil between your legs tightens. His fingers graze over that same spot as before and you cry out for him, for which his fingers increase their pace even more rapidly and slam into that spot over and over and over again as he groans at the lewd, wet squelching resulting.

“Shit! I’m gonna cum, Dabi, I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it. Cum for me, babydoll.” His voice is much more authoritative and huskier, and as per Dabi’s demand you cry out almost loud enough for your neighbors to hear as your orgasm slams into you like a tsunami of pleasure crashing into your nerves. Your soft, hot walls convulse around his fingers in your release as he uses them to fuck you through your first orgasm of the night, with your hips still thrusting toward him uncontrollably as you go through your high and begin to climb down, panting.

Your head feels light in the best way possible and your legs are weak, so you whine lowly as he pulls his fingers from your heat with a pleased sigh. The second your legs give out, he catches you by the ribs before grabbing your trembling hips and lifting you onto the counter, with you latching onto him and holding tight all the while, your forehead on his shoulder and arms around his neck while your legs wrap around his hips.

Dabi drags the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, sending a jolt of calming, electric waves up your spinal cord as he repeatedly kisses your hair and ear on the side accessible to him.

“Atta girl,” he mutters into your hair.

Do you... thank him? He’s giving you a compliment, after all, right? Do you nod? Do you hum? You have the energy to do all three, but what response does he expect of you?

“I didn’t... do anything,” you mutter quietly, chest rising and falling in quick succession.

“Technically. Doesn’t matter because you will, soon.” He leans into your ear like he’s so fond of doing, his lips grazing your earlobe. “We’re not done, doll.”

Your legs twitch around him unconsciously, eliciting a deep, amused chuckle from the demon.

You see pointed pearly whites bear at you before he lifts you off the countertop and plops you down in front of him. Dabi’s hand squeezes your ass cheek, said hand then spinning you around to put your back to his chest. Searing breath on the back of your ear makes it twitch. “You’re wet and all, doll, but I’m not sure you’re wet enough,” he taunts, his hands splaying out on your abdomen and gently roaming around, fingers spread wide as they adore your body.

“For what?” Dabi’s chest against your back prevents you from turning around and giving him a confused look.

“My cock. What else?” he jabs.

Your curt reply is totally cut off and forgotten when you feel a wet tongue singe the side of your neck toward the back, and you gasp shakily.

“What to do, what to do...?” you hear Dabi whisper into your now-pebbled skin, his hands ghosting down toward your thighs.

“Oh.”

Remaining silent yourself, you could feel the damn lightbulb light up in the bastard’s horned head, but you didn’t know what exactly would entail.

Before you can ask what the hell he was on about, his fingers drove between your glistening folds and prod around, as if measuring the lewd slick settling there. They quickly pull away after a quick hum from Dabi.

“Be a good little human and bend over, yeah?”

Without a word or thought against it you comply, bending over your countertop and leaning on your elbows a little. You gulp at the thought of your leaking cunt bearing for Dabi. You weren’t sure what he could see from this position, but you were a little embarrassed, nonetheless. With a gulp you shift your weight back and forth on your feet nervously.

Hands rub and palm at your ass cheeks as thumbs rub deeply into your flesh in a symphony of soothing touch. You sigh blissfully and spread your legs for the demon without realizing, but it’s over all too quickly when he instead moves your legs back together. You crane your neck to look at him. “Wha...?”

Wasn’t he going to fuck you from behind?

Suddenly the weeping tip of his cock slips between your thighs, gliding against your dripping cunt and through your folds. There’s no piercing despite his many others, though perhaps that was why he asked you to take him to a parlor not long ago.

Dabi’s cock manages to grace your clit and your body unwillingly jolts a little, still having been sensitive from your previous orgasm. A soft gasp leaves your swollen lips and you hear Dabi growl behind you while he pulls back from your ass end only to jut forward again. Legs beginning to tire out, you unconsciously spread them, only for his hands to push them together roughly.

“Don’t fuckin’ spread ‘em,” he hissed, hips holding still. The fingers on your thighs push deep with force sure to leave bruises while you hiss quietly at the stinging pain they bring to your nerves. But that sensation is quick to fade into something warm and euphoric yet electric and sensitive, causing your head to spin even though he’s not fucking your desperate pussy. He pistons his hips into your ass, and you mewl.

“That’s your last warning, fuck!” he grunts.

You nod vigorously, content with letting him fuck your thighs so long as he keeps grazing your puffy clit like this. His pace quickens and soon enough you hear loud skin slapping against skin, his hips jutting into your ass and balls pattering against the crevice between the soft flesh of your thighs. The quick pace and silkiness of his cock against your clit is euphoric, leaving you to wonder if it would be better than this if he were inside of you. Are you drooling? Your head droops lazily as you revel in pleasure.

The wetness and heat between your legs has increased several-fold, but it’s apparently not enough for Dabi. Your poor body rocks against the counter and your eyes are clenched shut, head fixated on the sensation of his cock grinding against your cunt and between your soft, drenched thighs. You weren’t sure if it was the position or your nerves going haywire, but your legs ached with a dreadful burn.

“D-Daaabi,” you whine pitifully, “my legs... aah, hurt...!”

A hand jumps to your navel and brings you back toward him to allow room for his fingers slithering to your cunt. Before they graze over your clit, they stop. “Cum for me, then,” you hear him command, voice deep and breathy and sending a chill up your spine. “Maybe when you’re done, I’ll take you to the bed and fuck you into the mattress. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya, doll?”

“Yes, b-but,” you suck in a breath when his hand envelops your tit, “‘maybe?’” You parrot the word desperately, your head going blank as you near orgasm.

“Mhm.” You can hear the smirk in it, and the sound of the hum rumbling in his chest is oddly euphoric for you to hear.

You hated having him behind you like this. All you wanted in the moment was to latch onto him and relish in his heat no matter how intense it would be for a mortal like you. You wanted to touch him, to be able to see him, and he was depriving you of it all - very likely on purpose.

Your moans and squeals get higher in pitch and Dabi evidently picks up on your cues, thrusting against your cunt faster and faster until your entire body tenses.

You cry out his name ever so quietly, yet before you can climax he pulls away and leaves you panting and weeping, a whine escaping your throat. “But you told me...!”

“Changed my mind.”

“You’re a jerk!” you half-gripe and half-whine, standing up to glare at him. “I was so... so close, you know! You better make it up to me!” You huff and puff from the intensity of almost cumming.

“You’re awful feisty when I’m not touching you,” he remarks cockily.

You’re going to regret saying what you said. At least, that’s what the look in his eyes tells you when he spins you around. It’s dark and already you shrink in front of him. The next thing you know, Dabi’s pushing you against the counter and mumbling something into you ear, that something being an incantation that sends a trickle of electricity though every nerve of your body. Suddenly you’re cumming hard as heavy waves of pleasure wrack your cunt clenching around nothing rapidly as whatever the demon used on you pushes you through your orgasm, your toes curling and lips shrieking, head falling back so fast it almost slammed into the cabinet if he hadn’t caught it. You don’t register that you had wrapped your arms around his waist until his hands grasp them as if holding you there.

“How’s that for makin’ it up to you, eh?”

With his voice pulling a moan out of you, your poor brain goes foggy and full and it spins within your skull as you pant away, your body feeling heavy. Dabi grabs hold of you and lifts you onto the countertop when it seems like your legs are going to give out. “Hey,” he mutters into your sweaty neck, “don’t tire out on me. I wanna fill that pussy up with my cum ‘til it’s dripping out.”

You feel heat rush from your heaving chest up your neck to your cheeks. “Stop... that! You pervert.”

Dabi chuckles at you. You weren’t prudish, you were inexperienced. “What? Stop what, hm?”

“Talking like... that.”

He only hums, though, and he’s not to comply with your request. “Ya know, if you weren’t a virgin, I’d take your ass, too. Or put you on your knees and shove my cock down your throat until you’re chokin’ on it. Fuck, you’d sound like an angel.” Dabi chuckles at his ironic comparison, seemingly proud of himself for it.

You shrink in front of him and shiver, the room feeling so cold. You glance at your bedroom door and he notices promptly.

“I’ll carry you, for a price.”

Your eyes flicker back to him and the simper he flashes you would’ve had you weak in the knees had you been standing.

“Like what, my soul?” It’s a slightly genuine, slightly snarky question.

“Your mouth.” Dabi waves a hand at your widened eyes. “Not tonight. Maybe next time. You won’t know up from down and I don’t feel like playing teacher more than I already am.”

The demon doesn’t wait for your snarky remark before he picks you up and lugs you to your bed. You let out a noise when he literally drops you onto the mattress, your form bouncing atop it before he pins you to the bed roughly, so quickly you get dizzy. He dips his hips between your legs and spreads them wide while his mouth delves into the crook of your sweat-coated neck to let him begin suckling and leaving stinging marks with sweet, little kisses peppered in between.

It seems he’s suddenly gone soft on you, but it won’t last, even if you don’t know it.

Your back arches against him, ready to finally feel his torrid body against yours so that you can relish in his warmth despite the fact that your body was soaked in sweat; you wanted so much more, you needed it. Your next moan is dealt without a care who can hear, and thereafter with you wrap your arms around his neck tightly. Dabi grabs your hips and squeezes the plump flesh before his hands roam down your thighs to your knees as he hikes your legs around his hips, with you far too eager not to comply.

“Dabi,” you breathe, and he hums with one of his hands still on your hip as the other supports his weight by your shoulder. “Kiss me. Please.” Your voice is desperate and needy, and you’re starting to think this is more than lust pushing you on.

Had he used another demonic spell on you?

When Dabi complies, his hips grind against you to allow his hardened cock to nudge the folds of your glistening pussy.

This time around, with his tongue prodding in your mouth at a slower, more passionate pace, you catch on and realize he has a tongue piercing. Your walls clench at the thought of what it would feel like licking stripes up and down your soaked cunt, wondering whether it would be cool to the touch or searing hot due to his body temperature.

Searing hot would be the answer, though you don’t know that as of now.

The demon grinds against you as he devours your mouth with his own, his weeping cock sliding through your your wet folds. On the other hand you’re careful not to cut your tongue on his teeth again, albeit he wouldn’t complain if you did; if anything he’d encourage it. Your hands splay on his hot back, and you wonder that if leaving them on his searing skin for too long will burn you. If it gave you the opportunity to roam your fingers over his muscles and caress the staples, goddamn would it be worth the burns. With a sigh into his mouth your hands move from his back to grab onto those horns you’d thought about, your grip gentle yet exploring as you try to focus on feeling the rough texture of them.

Dabi pulls away from you to pepper open-mouthed kisses among your jawline, growling all the while. “What’re you doing?” he brusquely asks between the wet gestures, and you croon. His voice was so rough and gravelly while the gestures were soft and... sweet. You almost dare to say it was heavenly.

“Just feelin’ ‘em, babydoll.”

You throw his pet name back at him purposefully, and the mockery elicits a dark chuckle from him. Ever so slowly, you were beginning to learn how to be more brazen. You were getting comfortable with him on this intimate level. You’d already been comfortable in some way with him living forcibly in your apartment for over a month, but not on this level, not like this.

The stapled hand on your leg disappears before it reappears in your hair and gives a pull - not a yank - to tilt your head back and further expose your neck. You expect him to ravage it with his mouth like earlier, but he stopped to admire his apparent handiwork. You can’t see the marks he’s left, albeit he’s apparently satisfied as he smirks.

“What’re you doing?” you mimic him playfully.

“Thinkin’ about how I want you, of course.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

In response, you huff at him.

“Let’s see,” he begins, moving closer to you, his breath fanning the lower half of your face as his eyes bore into your soul, “chest up against the wall, or on your hands and knees... hell, maybe just your knees...” He moves down so that his breath reaches just under your jaw, his eyes still staring intensely up at you while his hand slithers to your tit, rolling the hardened bud under his finger and you mewl. “...could always put you in a mating press and fuck you like a bitch in heat... I might even let you get on top, if you’re a good girl. Decisions, decisions, eh?”

“What,” you huff, “you mean, with all that whoring and harassing you did, you never thought this through?” You mirror his smirk with your own quirked brow while you rub the horns on his head, thoroughly enjoying their soft yet rippled texture.

“Oho, that’s the problem, doll. I’ve thought about it too much.” Dabi’s teeth put on a show for you to see from his widening smirk. Next thing you know, his fingers are pinching and tugging your nipple roughly for the first time and you keen under him from the shock before his wet mouth matches onto your other tit, tongue lulling over the bud. You mewl and flick your head back, chest heaving in your panting as you feel him suction onto your plump skin and suck away with a sopping, hot mouth, his low sigh into your skin blissful.

Your hands drop to his shoulders as a result of the distraction his mouth brings. Demonic saliva coats your tit and glistens in what little silvery moonlight filters through your blinds, all while you feel the pull of your leg over his right shoulder and prodding at your weeping heat with the tip of his cock.

“Ya know what?” he murmurs into your skin, “I wanna see these lovely tits of yours bounce.” With his other hand he guides the tip in and gives a moan at how warm and slick the entrance of your cunt is around him. And tight as hell, too. Of all the summons he could’ve answered, he answered the one that, unbeknownst to Dabi, lead to you, just on a whim. And fuck, if it wasn’t worth it.

You whine and writhe underneath him, needy as can be, as your entrance clenches around the head of his cock.

“Use your words, babydoll.”

You groan at him. “Just please hurry up and fuck me!”

“Your wish is my command...” Dabi’s voice is full of tease and mockery, which makes you want to bite his tongue.

Without any warning he sheaths his cock all the way into you as a groan escapes his throat, and you jolt at the sensation of suddenly being so goddamned full, your lustful gasp resonating off the walls of your bedroom. That one hard pump of his hips sends a wave up pleasure through your nervous system and the stretch of your tight walls leaves you wanting more. He’s much longer and thicker than his fingers, and you can’t help your cunt clenching around him like it does. The subconscious movement has Dabi groaning and panting out as you clench on his cock, and he still can’t help but relish in how fucking worth the wait you are.

That stretch of your cunt is back again, sweet and sinful as before. His cock brushes against all the right places, filling you up perfectly and having you drool for more.

Dabi holds still at least, though you can tell it won’t be for long.

“So goddamned tight,” he spits through his teeth against your neck, fighting the demanding of every cell in his body to fuck you like a rabid animal. Dabi’s hot breath fans over your neck, his teeth clenching as a result of your tightness around him.

His hips slowly start pushing and pulling to gently thrust his throbbing cock in and out of you, slowly letting you adjust before he can pick a normal pace.

...is what you thought he would do.

But nay, he begins with slow and agonizingly yet blissfully hard thrusts into your wet core, his grunts being drowned out by your wails and mewls as he slams into your sopping cunt. The lewd sounds of wet skin slapping slowly against skin and hot squelching mixes into it all, creating a melody of sin only you and Dabi share, that only the two of you can hear.

You were definitely going to hell, by now. But hey, good dick seemed worth the eternal damnation. Right?

With one particularly hard thrust, Dabi bites into the crook between your neck and shoulder, unexpectedly not breaking the skin, eliciting a cry from your parched throat and your eyes shut tight. The teeth latching onto your skin feel less sharp and more human, as he’s morphed them not to tear into your flesh and draw blood. He’d never hear the end of it for getting blood on your sheets, he knew that. Besides, if he wasn’t careful it would kill you.

He doesn’t want that happening again. Ugh. That was a godsforsaken mess - literally.

With every pounce of his hips, your tits bounce on your chest like he set out to do and he was sure to take in the sight of it all very well, having waited over a month for it. The smarting pang you felt earlier when his fingers fucked you is completely gone by now, leaving you to writhe and thrust your own hips from the overwhelming fucking of your senses.

“Dabi, Dabi!” you sob, your thoughts blending together until nothing but the demon inside of you remains in your consciousness. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, drawing a thick, black liquid in the deep crescents, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Words, babydoll,” he breathes out, emphasizing the first word with a thrust. “C’mon, you know better.” He groans above you.

A yelp and another, higher in pitch slap of skin resonates within the room amidst the wet, sloppy ones and his grunts, but it doesn’t register that he’s slapped the underside of the thigh perched on his shoulder until you feel the pulsating sting that scatters through your leg. The yelp was apparently yours.

“Faster!” Your voice is devoured by a whiny tone and squeals that fight out of you, but it’s drowned out by the rhythm of his hips against yours.

Another slap hits your senses, and you cry out, tears flooding your eyelids. All you need is a little push.

“So fuckin’ demanding... Where are your manners, little mouse?” His lips are on your ear again, almost as if threateningly. “I’d be a little more... ngh... polite if I were you.” The covers bunch and roll under your body when it’s slid back against them from the hardest thrust he’s graced you with yet, the process bringing a shriek out of you and shock as a result of his hitting that special spot after angling his hips just right and causing your poor head to spin. With Dabi then yanking you back to where you were with the hand on your thigh above the reddening cloud of flesh, you croon underneath him as he stops fucking your dripping wet heat altogether. You’re left to stare into his fiery blue eyes directly while hot breaths flood out of you in rapid succession. His nose almost touched yours, and the look in his eyes tells you he’s dead serious.

“Hate to break it to ya, but you’re at my mercy, doll. If I don’t want you to cum, you won’t.”

“Nonono, I’m sorry! Please! Please! I’m sorry!”

A cross between a hum and growl leaves his throat, and you shrink underneath him.

“‘Please,’ what?”

“Go faster, please!”

Dabi’s teeth are on your neck again when he picks up his thrusting into you, increasing in speed and fucking your sopping pussy like you had requested. With his hands on your hips, the demon mutters praises and moans into your neck and you sputter incoherent gibberish when you’re not gasping for air and squealing and bawling out from his almost inhuman, blissful pace. The leg wrapped around his waist clenches as hard as you’re physically able as he slams into you, and while your senses are being ravaged and brutalized, you hear faintly those wet squelching noises and the sounds of metal and wood creaking. You weren’t sure if the thrumming in your eardrums was your heartbeat or your headboard hitting the wall, but the thought of the latter rolled your eyes into the back of your head. Dabi angles his hips just right and smacks his cock into that oh-so-special spot within your soft cunt, and the jolt of pleasure and utter bliss that results brings you back to reality momentarily - yet still somehow throwing you out of your mind.

“Right there! Dabi! Oh, fuck!” You sob with a slur, your hands grasping and clawing at his back desperately. Incoherent garbling follows thereafter, and Dabi doesn’t even try to decipher it even if it is silk against his ears.

The fingers gripping onto your hips are so tightly embedded into your skin, Dabi’s sure they will leave round little bruises in their wake and he relishes in the idea, but the sting they bring you feels so damned good, you welcome it, too. The tension that builds within your cunt keeps building and building, your hot walls clenching around Dabi as you near carnal release. You’re close, so fucking close to the height of true bliss, your moans getting higher and higher in pitch as your back lifts off the mattress without you willing it. You feel that familiar tingle before-

It stops.

You sob at the utter emptiness and lack of release, your head spinning.

The ancient bastard denied you of your orgasm.

Chest heaving up and down in your panting, your wordless whine and protest at the emptiness you can feel is seemingly ignored by Dabi. The lack of warmth at your pulsating core is almost... cold. So cold.

“Wh-why...?” you whine.

The demon lets out a breathy groan. You can feel him dip his lips to your collarbone and smirk. “Just ‘cause.”

Quickly the demon sits back on his haunches and your arms droop off his shoulders. Dabi blinks at you with his hand holding your ankle to his shoulder, all the while staring you down with an intensity that has you feeling small, like an ant before an elephant. You’re so vulnerable and naked under his unwavering gaze, it’s nearly frightening. There’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen before. It’s soft but it’s predatory. He drinks in the sight of you leisurely.

You know damn good and well blood is rushing to your face, your hot breaths leaving you in weak puffs.

“Aren’t you precious?” you hear him remark with a toothy smirk. “Just for me. Right?”

You nod.

Demonically slitted eyes narrow at you darkly. “Say it, then,” he demands.

“Just...” you pant, “for you.”

Dabi’s hand pulls your ankle off him and puts your foot flat against the bedding next to his knee as he looks down at you. The moonlight striking the vibrant color of Dabi’s eyes is breathtaking, if your breath could be knocked out of your lungs further. It almost forced you to liken the sight with tinted ice, with icy waters off Iceland or perhaps glacier-dwelling seas of the Antarctic. And yet, you knew better.

The sight before Dabi was more than he’d expected, albeit just as sinful. Seeing you splashed out in bed, sweating and panting and dripping in your own essence just for him drove him wild. You were so adamant against fucking him, about retaining your innocence and saving it for the “right” person, in the beginning. And yet now, you let him do as he pleases and he didn’t doubt it would be the first time. He knew better.

“Get on your hands and knees, love.”

That was a first. “Love?” You like it more than the several others. It was smoky and gravelly and breathy all once.

Without your knowing your eyes soften and you grin the tiniest grin at the demon, knowing he won’t return the favor and be as gentle and sweet with you. He’s quick to quirk a brow at you, but you turn on your side to maneuver your body around and comply with Dabi’s command. Your breath has evened out by now, as you prop yourself on your elbows with your ass pointing out to Dabi, weeping cunt ready to be filled. It was embarrassing being on display like this again. You glance back at him with curious eyes, only to be met with silence and what felt like a dark presence. He’d gone cold on you.

You feel a hot hand on the nape of your neck and swear on whatever god you used to believe that your skin sizzled for a bit, while another lands on your left hip as his cock presses up against your folds and slithers through between your legs a couple times, gathering the slick of your essence - as if it needed to! - before he delves into your pussy once again. You croon in front of him, and the moan that comes out of Dabi has you clenching around his cock for the countless time. He mutters something untranslatable to you and pushes down on your nape, easing you face-first into the mattress. Your bedding was so soft and warm from your own body heat. Maybe it was leakage from the demon’s body temperature, you weren’t sure. Maybe it was a mix of both, intermingling like perfectly-cut pieces of a puzzle.

With a sharp moan, Dabi bottoms out in you, your mewls being swallowed by the bedding pressing against your cheek. You sigh into plush warmth, but the soft and gooeyness you feel is quickly torn away by a harsh snap of Dabi’s hips. Your gasp is cut through by a squeak from your throat, only urging him further as you already feel that coil tightening and readying to snap. You feel him shift a little against you, and you try to glance at him as much as you can before he begins thrusting into you again. That hard but slow pace makes its appearance for a short while, and hot damn is it heavenly. You moan and whine completely unabashedly. The walls of your apartment were thin and cheap, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

It was just an effect he had on you.

So what if your neighbors knew your were getting railed by a demonic being from ages past?

He certainly wanted them to know.

Dabi’s pace picks up again and you already feel the ripples of pleasure soaring through your body from your clenching cunt, your grip on the fabric underneath you tightening as you fight back the urge to bite into it. Even the lewd slaps of his hips against your ass are louder and quicker, and fuck aren’t they wetter. Dabi himself seems proud of this.

Your breathing quickens and your lungs almost burn like the hand on the back of your neck, your keening and sobbing getting higher in pitch and filled with rushed air. His thrusts only seem to get deeper and harder, if it were possible, and your eyes close shut tightly as your body trembles. Dabi adjusts his hips and continuously hits that oh-so-sweet spot that makes your head cloud over totally, his head falling back at the way your pussy hugs him tight.

“Dabi!” you sob. “Don’t stop, please!” Your wording is heavily slurred and slightly hushed from the impact of his fucking your nerves and your cheek being pushed into the bed, but you manage, nonetheless. You can’t fight back the drool that droops out the corner of your mouth.

The demon chuckles. Dabi could hear you say his name like that for a thousand years straight and it wouldn’t be enough. “S’pose you’ve been a good girl, babydoll. Go on, I’ll let you cum.”

The hand on your neck moves to your shoulder and soon enough, your chest and face are removed from the sheets, albeit you’re still on all fours as he fucks into you. Thereafter you feel the piping heat of his chest against your back, a crude reminder of the seven layers of arson Dabi’s capable. His hand holds you still while he continues to wrack your body with thrusts into your wet heat. You feel his fingers rub and circle your clit after a torrid hand snakes around your ribs and down your navel, and the pace of Dabi’s fingers is almost in beautiful tandem with his fucking as he hits that special spot over and over and over again. You can feel your essence flowing down the insides of your thighs like you thought wasn’t even possible, pussy dripping onto your bedding.

Ah, fuck.

With a lustful shriek, your spongy walls convulse around his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, your vision going white as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body rocks back and forth, legs twitching and torso shuddering. It takes almost everything Dabi has not to cum then and there, his hiss and loud growl being evidence of that. You just feel so good, why wouldn’t he want to cum now? But no, that would be a treat for you later.

Your clutch on the bedding underneath is as tight as you’re fully capable, and your knuckles turn white while you revel in your own personal bliss, courtesy of whatever the hell Dabi is. The intensity of it all has your head spinning and body pulsating. Poor body beginning to come down from the fierce high, you wondered if Dabi would stop and let you bliss out - but nay; he continues to fuck you like an animal and abuse your clit while you cry it all out. You were drenched in sweat, your cheeks flooded with tears you didn’t know were there until now.

“Too much, too much,” you squeak quietly, so quiet you’re not even sure he could hear you. But maybe it was incoherent. Maybe you were babbling and drooling like a fucked out hole at this point. Was it getting overwhelming? Yes. Did it feel ungodly good? Fuck yes.

“You’re so fuckin’... wet, though,” he pants, before slowing down slightly. “I think you’re playing innocent. You like this, ah, don’t you?” Dabi groans as you continue to flutter, sensitively, around him. “You want me to fuck you stupid, to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore, right?”

Dabi chuckles at your lack of response and continues to ram into your soaking heat with your cries and squeaks only urging him further. An attempt to glance at Dabi is mostly thwarted by the pace he’s taken on, or maybe it’s because everything’s spinning - or is it the tears flooding from your eyelids - you manage to meet his icy, slitted eyes once, which prompts him to poke kisses at your nape and behind your ear. You feel that familiar warmth in your entire pelvis, you cunt clenching down on his cock as the waves of pleasure intensify.

“Dabi, I- nnn, it’s too mu-much,” you whine. “Please.”

“Nah, you’re okay, babydoll,” he drawls cockily, voice gravelly and breathy enough to make you cum on command. “I think you’ve got a few more for me, don’t you? C’mon.” He makes a point to hit your g-spot harder than before after he’s done talking, and goddamn does it take the air out of your lungs. You choke on your own spit when you feel that piping hot hand patted against your asscheek repeatedly.

Your shriek and wet slopping fills the room as you cum yet again, albeit this time the pressure on your nerves feels different - smoother, warmer - and the tingle in your belly is intense as your scream feels like it claws at your throat until it bleeds. Your thighs are drenched in your juices, cunt twitching and clenching in the aftermath of your mind-splitting pleasure. You mumble and whimper as he finally slows down and gives you a sliver of mercy, both of his hands now holding you up by your hips when your torso slowly droops down like it was before. Dabi chuckles behind you quietly as he comes to a halt.

“You good, doll?”

He’s definitely not sincere.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you heave and pant, the fabric in your fingers wrinkling in their grasp.

“Oi, you can’t quit on me now,” he demands. “I haven’t cum yet and I gotta make you squirt again.”

Trying to get a whole, solid word out was a struggle as a result of your heavy breathing and the overstimulation. Your head was fuzzy and the room was spinning like a damn typhoon, and for a split moment you thought you’d fallen unconscious. What spills out is garbled nonsense.

The demon hums that inquisitive hum again, urging you to speak.

You lift your cheek off the bed slightly, as you’re able. “Will...”

You’re not sure why, but the thought of Dabi skipping off after taking your virginity so unceremoniously rang into your thoughts, giving you a sense of loneliness and anxiety. Why, though? Why now?

“Huh?” He leans in so close, his horn bobs off the side of your head when he arches over you to put an ear to your lips. “Try again, love. Go on.” He sounds quite intrigued, probably the most you’ve heard him.

“Will you... hah, leave... me?”

The grin against your neck is dark.

“Whaddya mean, little mouse?”

His voice was downright excited. You were worth the wait. How long had it been since he’d had a human so obedient, so innocent yet so easily corrupted? You were his, now - whether you liked it or not was irrelevant. But he knew you would. Dabi had grown on you far more than you’d ever admit, he knew that for a fact. You were clearly enjoying yourself now, anyway. And it didn’t take magic to do all of this, save for one here and there to coax you to enjoy yourself and to bring out subconscious feelings. Like right now. You felt these things, he just amplified them to an unbearable extent. Whoops. You poor thing.

“Don’t go.”

Eyes half-lidded and droopy, you turn your head to look back at the demon, only to be met with sharp teeth shown off in a naughty grin. You blink once and you could’ve sworn you saw an image of a black, smoky aura surrounding him.

“If you can handle me, dear.”

You nod against the bed slowly before trying to push your ass against him with what little stability you have. Even if his cock was still buried in you, without any movement you felt empty and... alone.

“I thought it was too much?” he quips, hand rubbing at your reddened ass cheek in a way you have to describe as soothing. It felt so silky and mellow. Yet you knew he was far from that. “Well? I thought you were bitchin’ out on me like the virgin you are.”

“In... insi... inside,” you sputter shyly, mental clarity not quite returning, albeit you manage enough to think of that at least. You want him to cum inside, to know what it feels like to be stuffed full of his cum, to feel his cock twitching inside after his release. “C-um.”

You never would’ve thought about that before you met him. Why would you feel this way?

“Aw, what is it?” The hum that results from his scarred throat is dark. “You want me to cum inside right now? I’m not sure you’ve earned that yet.” His voice is bastardly and maybe even a little teasing, and he sighs almost happily at your squirming. “Asking me to cum inside like that the first time you get fucked - such a whore. Have I fucked you stupid already, doll? Shame, I thought you’d hold out better than that.” Dabi clicked his tongue and shook his head, though you can’t see. “Broken so early. Guess there’s no point in me stickin’ around after all, huh?”

A noise sounds from the back of your throat in protest and nearly unbeknownst to you, drool slithers out the corner of your mouth. Dabi seems to ignore your noises as his hands adjust your hips, giving you enough friction to elicit a whine from your lips. You can’t register this at the moment, but Dabi was a victim to his own whims and could be a mix of soft and downright mean in the bedroom, and there’s no telling which will arise. Sometimes he’ll want skin against skin, tongue lashing against yours, fiery pleasure; sometimes he wants to insult you and lash his hand across your ass cheek, leaving bruises or drawing blood wherever he can.

“I was gonna make you convince me,” he breathes, slowly thrusting. “But considering you’re still conscious, I think that’s enough.” Dabi chuckles behind you. Well, you were only conscious as per his meddling. He was the one keeping your consciousness pulled to the surface, preventing you from letting go of reality and passing out. “You’re most welcome to cry and beg, though, babydoll.”

Hell, that list was half-checked off. Tears stained your cheeks and blurred your vision already, and the more he fucked into you, the more they fluttered out. Your lungs burned at this point, a searing heat cutting through your chest. Anything you try to say comes out incoherently, a sputtered and garbled mess, when it’s not a pitiful sob.

You push your hips back against him in an attempt to fuck yourself on his cock while Dabi fucks your puffy cunt, drawing a condescending chuckle from him. The jolt of overstimulation beckoned you to crawl away and relieve yourself of him, but the need to have him thrusting and cumming inside you overcame it. His release and what it would feel like to have his cum mixing with your juices and dripping out of you was all you could think about, as if entranced in a spell that bound your consciousness to that one thing. The rest of your thoughts were jumbled and incoherent even to you, the drool trickling out your mouth and the rolling of your eyes into the back of your head representative of that.

As Dabi watched your pussy envelop him, he couldn’t help but envision his name carved into your asscheeks with a sharpened claw of his. Ah, the squeals and squeaks that crawl out of you would be divine in the most sinful way possible, and the threads of blood that would trickle down your skin would taste head-spinningly beautiful. Maybe next time. Dabi’s jaw clenched at the throb of his cock within your sputtering, velvety walls, the tightness in his abdomen building. Just one more...

“Fuck, little one...!”

As the demon drags sharp claws up your thigh and asscheek, it leaves red ribbons in its wake and the squeeze of your cunt and pitiful squeal tells him well that you’re enjoying it far more than you ever thought you would.

“Such a good fucking human... good fuckin’ hole,” he grunts, voice strained. His hand plants on the middle of your back and pushes hard, bowing your poor back as his other hand keeps your hips up, his cock ramming into you at a faster pace. Dabi lets out a loud groan when he sees the blissed out, tear-stained, drool-covered face of yours before his thrusting loses rhythm and he suddenly feels your pussy flutter around him hard in orgasm again, soaking him in your slick again. Finally he allows himself to find the release you’d internally begged for, fucking into you at a less than rhythmic pace as his own mind begins to become overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Ah, shit. Fuck, fuck, motherfucking-!”

Dabi soon finds his teeth embedded into your flesh and gripping it hard enough to leave a bruise or even cut into the skin as his hips move entirely on their own against you. With a strained moan he cums, thick, warm ropes of cum painting your fluttering, sensitive, and overstimulated walls as you literally cry and sob underneath him, his hips still involuntarily thrusting into you as your cunt milks him for all he’s worth.

“Fucking hell,” he bites out, body relaxing against yours as he comes down from the high, yet he doesn’t pull out. “I missed this.” His voice is breathy and littered with pants against your neck. Dabi leaves a few wet kisses to it before leaning back and slowly pulling out with a groan, leaving you empty and dripping before him. He watches as his cum begins to trickle out but is quick to gather it with his fingers and push it roughly back into your pulsating cunt.

“Atta fuckin’ girl.”

Your poor head spins and you don’t know up from down, so Dabi ushers you to lay down and before he knows it, you’re passed out asleep. Eh, he’ll consider aftercare next time maybe. With a yawn that’s more out of sudden boredom than it is exhaustion, Dabi lays down next to you and props his head up with his hand, leaning against his elbow as he watches you sleep peacefully, a complete contrast to a few mere minutes ago. With a smirk he wipes the tears off your cheeks. Those cheeks...

“I oughta answer sacrifices more often.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #dabi #mha #bnha #blue hour.#*throws candy* happy halloween have some mediocre smut!

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cordelia-cardale · 3 years

Note

The prompt number 16 is quite interesting lol 16. “Control your anger or you’ll have me to worry about.” Choose the ship/character you like :)

Hello! Ok, there are literally zero reasons as to why it took me a year to write this bloody thing except maybe that I had some not fun moments and also this literally never could have been written if I hadn’t waited this long. I don’t know if you’ll read it. You’ve probably forgotten about this in all fairness but if you do read it I hope you like it.

Also taking this opportunity to thank everyone for following me. I’m at 400 followers! This is insane. I’m not sure why you’re all following tbh but to celebrate I forced myself to finish this long overdue fic, hope you like it! Also disclaimer: I love all of the characters from TLH. I am aware of the existing debate around Matthew and Alastair and my writing in here does not represent my point of view. But I I decided to represent Matthew and his view in this way for story telling purpose. Please don’t come at me with gun blazing. If you do wanna talk, we can, but in peace 😊💕

Somewhere Where Our Shadows Meet, It Feels Like Coming Home -

a Fairdale one-shot (is that even their brotp name???)

This was the fifth time James was rereading the passage of the book he had picked up. It was no use. Each time he finished the page he had already forgotten the beginning. His mind was foggy with a multitude of thoughts. Thoughts about Lucie and her strange dalliance with a boy who used to be a ghost, about Grace which inevitably led to unsolicited questions on his own identity, and, as much as he tried not to think about it, thoughts of Matthew and Cordelia. He really did not enjoy these last kinds of thoughts. He couldn’t help but imagine what kind of relationship could have blossomed between the two during their trip to Paris. He knew how Matthew felt, but when it came to Cordelia, he had no single clue. He constantly wondered as to whether she hated or loved him. Daring to hope that he hadn’t ruined everything. Just for that hope to vanish the next second because there was no possible way he did not ruin it. And even if ever decided to ask her, he would have no idea how to approach the topic without sounding like an arrogant bastard.

James let out a long breath, rolling his shoulders, trying to let go of the tension. He was pretty sure that if he ventured to look at himself in the mirror that was hung above the chimney, he would see huge dark circles beneath his eyes. Circles which color could rival the color of London’s night sky. A result of many nights plagued by bad dreams and worry. During some of those sleepless nights, James had gone to Cordelia’s room. The first time it was under the pretext of looking for books. Her room had been full of her personal belongings. A bottle of perfume on her vanity table, an evening dress carefully laid out on the chaise longue, a copy of Majun and Layla on her bedside table. So many little pieces of who Cordelia was scattered in a room she had run away from. She hadn’t been back to Curzon street since that night. Upon arriving in London, she had decided to move back with her mother using the excuse of the soon-to-be new baby’s arrival. James kept going to her home though, eventually admitting to himself that he did so because of the smell of Jasmin that lingered. It was the closest thing he had to a semblance of her presence in the house. It was a soft smell that grounded him. It was also a heady smell that reminded him of the sweetness he had lost.

He shook himself out of thoughts of her. Something he had gotten quite good at to be fair, considering how many times he thought of her in the span of a day. Pushing himself up from the table he was leaning against, he closed the book he was reading, giving up on understanding it, and made his way to the window. Outside the sky was tinged in pastel colors drawing the day to a close. James would slowly make his way back home. He would rehash the day, come up with new plans to wake his sister from her deep sleep, find out that these plans would fail again come morning, and finally decide that he would need to eat a bite because going to bed with an empty stomach was just not advisable. His parents had offered for him to stay at the Institute with them but James had refused. He preferred the calm and silence of Curzon Street. He found that the bittersweet cloak that covered his house was, in some ways, almost reassuring. Maybe he was going insane. Just when he was ready to go bid his goodnight to his family, he heard the doors of the library open wide behind him and slammed shut again.

“Did you know?” Matthew growled. James might have thought that he himself had gone slightly deranged chasing down the smell of Jasmin throughout his home, but at least he did not look half as unhinged as Matthew looked right this instant. Matthew’s eyes were wide, his pupils dilated, and his fist clenched so tight his knuckles were turning white.

“Are you alright?” James asked, keeping an even tone.

“Did you know?”

“Know what?”

Matthew took a few strides in James’ direction. His stare holding James’ gaze in place as if daring James to contrary him. “Did you know about Thomas?”

“Um yes,” James nodded, a sly smile playing on his lips. “I do know Thomas.” At that Matthew narrowed his eyes and almost seemed as if he was trying hard not to grind his teeth. Noted. Attempts at humor and alleviating the situation were not going to work. “What about him?” James tried again. His smile replaced by a serious gaze.

“Did you know about Alastair?” Matthew asked, almost spatting out Alastair’s name.

James took a few steps back, reinstating the much-needed personal space for such a conversation. James did know about Alastair, but only because Thomas had looked so miserable and James had pried so insistently that Thomas had had no choice but to give up his well-kept secret. James had understood, sometimes you couldn’t choose who you fell in love with. Sometimes you fell in love with something that only you saw in the other person. Love was usually shrouded in mystery this way, best not to question how it worked. Obviously, by the look of things, Matthew did not agree.

“Please sit down,” James pointed to one of the green velvet armchairs. “I’ll pour you a drink.” James said, making his way to the stash of liquor in one of the dark wooden commodes. James had always wondered what kind of people, for what kind of situation kept alcohol in the library of all rooms. It always seemed to him that a secret stash of tea would have been more appropriate. Now he understood what kind of situation required people to put alcohol in every room, even if it was just one abandoned bottle of Parkmore. “Is Whiskey alright?” James turned his head in Matthew’s direction.

“So you knew?” Matthew answered, seemingly in a staring competition with the mustard yellow wallpaper in front of him. “He told you?”

Whiskey it would be for a total lack of all other present choices James thought as he started to pour a glass.

Matthew kept going on his verbal onslaught towards the wallpaper. In all fairness mustard yellow was a color that could potentially enrage everyone. “How can he? It’s Alastair that we are talking about. It’s not as if there wasn’t any other man in London that Thomas couldn’t have a fling for.”

James very much doubted that a fling could start to describe Thomas’s feelings for Alastair. However, seeing how Matthew was nearly spitting out every single one of his words, he thought it safer not to share this piece of information.

“Matthew, please calm down and control your anger or you’ll have me to worry about.” James handed the glass to Matthew, which he waved away.

“No, thank you. I don’t drink.”

James squinted. “Since when?”

“Since Paris.”

James couldn’t help but feel a pinch in his chest at the mention of Paris. Paris city of lights, city of lovers. An escape his friend had taken with the only girl James had ever, truly, loved since he was barely old enough to understand the concept. It was a wondrous thing how much pain a single word could hold.

“What a strange place to decide to stop drinking.” James took a sip of the honey-colored liquid, trying to hide his hurt to the best of his ability.

“Cordelia asked me to. That was her condition for coming with me.”

James did not want to go in the general direction of a conversation that involved Cordelia. Especially not if that conversation was with Matthew. He had written a letter. James had understood. He slightly had the urge to strangle his best friend for going with her; for loving her; he did not quite know. But that was it. They hadn’t spoken of Paris nor of Cordelia together and that was for the best. Neutral conversations were for the best, they could avoid the hurt and the blame, and if James let it come to that again who knew what would be next. Yet he couldn’t help but ask.

“Why did you leave?”

Matthew turned to James, his anger receding ever so slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” A beat, a choice to either keep going or retreat before it is too late. A beat, a choice to see where this could go “why did you go to Paris?”

“You owe me an answer first. Did you know about Alastair?”

“Yes.”

“How could you not tell me?”

“You weren’t here Matthew.” James’ voice almost broke, almost. “How was I supposed to tell you anything?”

James had wanted to throw so much more at Matthew’s face. Throw words that he wouldn’t be able to take back. He had been feeling so alone. So utterly lost after Grace’s admission. After Cordelia’s departure. He had needed his best friend. He had wanted to tell him so much, to figure it all out with him. To have Matthew hold him at times when he didn’t know if he could hold it up together and tell him, simply, that he believed in him. But Matthew hadn’t been in London. He had been in Paris. Happy. With Cordelia.

“And you accept it?” Matthew asked, carefully studying James.

“I guess it depends on what we are talking about. In any case,” James turned away from the fireplace to look at his friend. “why are you so against it if it makes Thomas happy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because Alastair doesn’t deserve to be loved?”

“Maybe it is more about deserving a second chance rather than deserving of love. Maybe it is about getting a chance to fix your mistakes. Surely no one is worthless of that.”

“Sometimes the mistakes are too big to fix.” Matthew shrugged, breaking eye contact.

“Is that why you ran away?” The question was asked so softly as if asked any louder and James would be terrified to see Matthew run away again. James wasn’t sure he could bear it, no matter how much frustration towards Matthew he still felt.

“I didn’t run.” Matthew shook his head. His gaze far and distant as if in another land, in a shadow realm. “I took a train, there’s a difference. And I left because of Cordelia.”

James had an inkling he hadn’t left because of Cordelia but rather Cordelia had followed in a desperate pursuit to drown both of their sorrows in the glamour of a city like Paris. After all, Paris was so similar to Matthew, it was no wonder he had chosen it. At the surface, both were golden and shining like a polished jewel box. Once that jewel box was open, however, shadows, pain, and sadness would pour out like a damn breaking loose.

“I never thought you’d try to run away from me.” James knelt in front of Matthew, his knees landing on the soft midnight blue carpet. “That one day, I’d become a part of the shadows that you try to outrun.”

Matthew turned around so fast and reached for James’ face. His green eyes were darker than usual. “You’re not my shadows, Jamie Bach. You’re my home. You are the reason why I still believe I’m worth being forgiven for.” He said those words like a damned man dying for a confession, following blindly a faith he held so dear to his heart, hoping that that faith could be his saving grace. James understood that he had become that faith.

“Forgiven for what?” James asked.

“I can’t tell you.”

“It’s me, Matthew. What is so bad that you cannot tell me?”

“I can’t tell you because I’m afraid. I need you to stay with me. I need you to believe that I am good, even if it means that you believe in a lie.”

“Matthew …”

“If you keep choosing me and believing in me,” Matthew interrupted. If he couldn’t finish now, he never would. “then maybe I can believe that I am no monster.”

“You are not a monster, you are my parabatai.”

James felt like they were back on that bridge, at night, so close to being let in in Matthew’s secrets. Back then James hadn��t been in control of himself, he hadn’t known what was happening to him. He had lost his chance. It would not happen again. It could not happen again. James was so tired of walking a frayed rope line with Matthew, guessing at hinted truths. Being someone’s constant north took work and time and effort but because it was Matthew, James could do it. He would always do it and he needed Matthew to know that as clearly as they both knew that one day would come when they would both cross the other side together. Because after all, that was what it had always been about. Despite shadows and lies and deceptions and miscommunication, they would always be together. So James continued.

“Do you know what that means? It means that I made a promise to you. I said entreat me not to leave thee, for wither thou goest, I will go. If aught but death part thee and me. I will not leave. No matter what you’ve done, I will stand by you, because that is the choice that I have made. That I still make. There is not a thing in this world that you could have done that would make me stop loving you, calon fy enaid.”

Matthew looked up at James and teased “Does that mean that you accept my feelings for Cordelia?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I must say, I don’t think I’m her type. It’s a pity, really.” Some strands of Matthew’s hair fell in his eyes as he shook his head. James could see the old Matthew again. The carefree one that balanced out his own shadows so well. The one he would choose and forgive a thousand times over because he too was his home.

“Matthew.”

“All right, all right.” Matthew threw his hands up in a mock gesture of surrender. “I just … wish you could promise that I would not lose you.”

“I promise.”

“You can’t promise something you don’t know.” Matthew said before he started to talk about his own misbeliefs that had led to a terrible accident. James listened and did not judge and stayed long in the night after Matthew had said everything that had weighted so heavy on his heart for so long. And somewhere, under the warm light of oil lamps and next to a warm fire, the frayed rope between the two started to mend and James could only describe the feeling as one of coming home.

Tag List: @lady-ofroses @clockworknights @the-axewielding-herondale @tess-the-dreamer @coloandreablog

Do let me know if you want to be on the tag list and I’ll happily add you! (I have a tag list now visibly, wild and mind-blown) I will try to post more now that my exams are somewhat done. Who am I kidding? There will always be more stuff to do XD

#tlh fanfic #the last hours fanfiction #the last hours #tlh #coi spoilers #coi #chain of iron #chain of gold #chog #Matthew Fairchild #james herondale #lucie herondale #jesse blackthorn #cordelia carstairs #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #grace blackthorn #jordelia

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representshinjuku · 3 years

Text

Tomoshibi

[MTR]

All hardship turns to flow and what’s ‘beyond help’ helps itself

Shinjuku’s lure-lights* release, release, release

No matter how faint a light it might be, if they’ll shine again please illuminate me

Are you ready! If you run, make it forwards. We blades are assembled, spitting out my verse

[Jakurai]

Even if everything is pulled out from under me, I still want to save everyone

I won’t allow this wish of mine to be eaten away by the unknown

I ceased counting what I’ve lost so that I might fight my remaining anguish

I’m searching for the words omitted from the outline, hidden in the dark of this work called ‘me’

[Doppo]

“Good spirits bloom out of season, a musical you’ve created. Your existence is greater than any medicine to me.”

[Jakurai]

I will follow myself alone. But I’ll be fine, for I have two by my side.

Straight ahead—just straight ahead—from the labyrinth wall to the exit door

To save everyone, I’ll deliver all Japan a paper ladle** that will never again break

[MTR]

All hardship turns to flow and what’s ‘beyond help’ helps itself

Shinjuku’s lure-lights* release, release, release

No matter how faint a light it might be, if they’ll shine again please illuminate me

Are you ready! If you run, make it forwards. We blades are assembled, spitting out my verse

[Hifumi]

My mental state is tofu, fragile with fear, but clad in my suit I move on like it’s nothing

I want to understand how you express yourself—that motherly instinct appeals unbidden today too

Standing in a haze, sitting with a thud, even when your emotions are unstable

Don’t turn away, use your words and seize that proof

But it’s too cold today; I can’t lend it out yet. One day I want to lay this suit softly over you

From the start you were my precious, only one—is what I say, but daybreak marks the end

I’ll move on with Sensei and Doppo

[Jakurai]

“What we touch now is a chilled-over door.”

[Hifumi]

As friends we’ve talked together, supported each other

Dropped all pretense, cut away our shells, fought with a dispersing flow

I’ll cultivate this barren earth with all my heart and make a flower bloom

[MTR]

All hardship turns to flow and what’s ‘beyond help’ helps itself

Shinjuku’s lure-lights* release, release, release

No matter how faint a light it might be, if they’ll shine again please illuminate me

Are you ready! If you run, make it forwards. We blades are assembled, spitting out my verse

[Doppo]

I’m the kindling snapping beneath the company’s feet but so I don’t get fired I’ll put in 400%***

I always used to wonder “why just me?” but the truth is I knew and still warped myself

The night scenery working overtime extinguishes even the moonlight, I scream out my feelings into Tokyo’s heart

Actions speak louder than words; I muster up my courage

[Hifumi]

“Don’t be nervous. We’re at your back.”

[Doppo]

How you feel now, bosses!? Let me lay out the proposal—not lip service, a full-body effort***

With the same hand that clutches the train straps I hold a mic to sing. Just getting out on time makes my future, this world less dark

I’ve only got this verse to back me up. One day what wets my pillow will be not tears, but drool

If you lose to yourself then who will you win against? You don’t need to make war, just go boldly

[Jakurai]

Adding a “microphone” to my stethoscope, follow the chord and spit out “rhyme and flow”

[Hifumi]

Bring out all the “iced shots” you dare, but I’ll stay sober and “love you”

[Doppo]

Getting on the train I’m “on my way” to work packed in with the crowd everyday is “like a live”

[MTR]

Behind us is the “nonexistent tomorrow” we’d been running from; we’ll face the morning together, determined “life goes on”

All hardship turns to flow and what’s ‘beyond help’ helps itself

Shinjuku’s lure-lights* release, release, release

No matter how faint a light it might be, if they’ll shine again please illuminate me

Are you ready! If you run, make it forwards. We blades are assembled, spitting out my verse

Because the three of us share in victory, we’ll continue to sing with all our hearts

It’s time the door we couldn’t open alone starts to move

We don’t have time to rest on our laurels, without rest we reach out for the moonlight

For these lights must lead to the end

*漁火(いさりび）specifically, a lure for catching fish at night

**金魚すくい（きんぎょすくい）aka. A goldfish scooper lol

***These lines are wordplay. The first one is 会社の手となり足となり首とだけにならねえように倍に倍 or more literally, “I become the arms and legs of my company (meaning: Doppo gets taken advantage of at work) but I give quadruple my efforts not to become the neck (首/kubi)” as ‘kubi ni naru’ actually means “to get fired”.

The second one is making a play on “yoissho” being an expression of exertion (ie: pushing yourself up off the ground, lifting something heavy) but also meaning to suck up to someone, a very similar meaning to what he just said he wouldn’t do

#koutranslates #hypmic translation #tomoshibi #matenrou #edits have been made from the twitter version #(read: fixed my stupid mistake :^l)

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writer-k-pop · 3 years

Text

The Dancer (k.h.s) - Waning Crescent Hotel

Please read this (W.C.Hotel) if you this is the first post of this series that you see. Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of death Genre: Angst, Hotel Del Luna AU, Choose your own adventure, SVT x Fem! Reader Staff: Yong (Spirit General Manager) / Jiwoo (Human General Manager) / Soon Bok (Room Manager) / Mun Hee (Front Desk Receptionist) / Shin (Grim Reaper assigned to Waning Crescent) Word Count: Ending A - 3.2k / Ending B - 3.3k

W.C.Hotel | Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

"For the last time, Mun Hee." I cross my arms and give him a stern look, "No, we cannot bring a puppy into the hotel."

"But it would brighten up the entire place." Mun Hee pouts.

"The animal world is run through a different building and I'm pretty sure if we brought a puppy from the living world, the Gods would have my head on a silver platter." I declare, definitively ending the conversation.

Mun Hee continues to pout as we walk across the lobby.

"Why are you so pouty?" Jiwoo asks him walking up to us.

I look at Mun Hee in boredom, "He's upset that we can't have a resident puppy in the hotel."

"Excuse me." A soft voice asks from behind me.

We all turn our attention to the guest and Mun Hee immediately replaces his pout with a smile.

"How can we help you?" Jiwoo takes the lead. I stay silent, as always.

"How do I reach the sky patio?" The guest asks.

"I'll show you." Jiwoo gestures the guest towards the elevators, "It can be confusing the first time."

"He's always so busy showing people around." Mun Hee comments, shaking his head and crosses his arms in concern.

"Can you help me?" A male asks Mun Hee and he immediately puts on his helpful face.

"Yes! What can I do for you, sir?" Mun Hee dives into a conversation with the guest.

As they walk away, I scoff at Mun Hee's mood swings and head for the elevators.

"Excuse me?" A male voice makes me pause and look around for the source.

A few feet away, a young adult male stands sheepishly with a book in his hands. I shakily nod my head, his appearance taking my breath with it. He's not Hoshi, no. But he looks extremely like a student Hoshi was once close with: Samuel was his name.

"What time does the cafeteria close?" He asks.

It takes me a second to register his question. "Uh, uhm, it closes at 8am." I answer him.

"And it's downstairs, correct?" He continues.

I nod, "Yeah, you uhm, you just turn down that hall way and take the stairs."

The boy nods and thanks me before walking away. I watch in awe as he disappears around the corner.

"I'm impressed." Yong's voice suddenly appears next to me.

"Jesus!" I exclaim, holding both hands over my heart.

"Is one of the most important figures in Christianity, a religion you have no interest in." Yong says with bored sarcasm.

I straighten up, slightly upset that she would use such sarcasm after scaring me like that. "Why were you impressed?" I question, changing the topic.

Yong nods towards the corner where the boy disappeared. "I think that was the first time I've seen you help a guest in like 400 years."

I cross my arms in defiance, "He was special."

"I don't think he's one of the thirteen, is he?" Yong asks.

I shake my head, "No, he just looks extremely like Samuel."

"The one that Hoshi cared for like he was his son?" Yong questions.

I nod, "Speaking of Hoshi." I start.

"Checked in for 8 days." Yong reads off her list of guests, "And Soon Bok put him in room 156."

"(y/n)! (y/n)!" Mun Hee's screams echo through the lobby as he comes running from the outdoor beach entrance.

"What's going on, Mun Hee?" Yong asks for me.

"There's a fight!" Mun Hee frantically points towards the entrance.

I wave a dismissive hand at him, "They'll figure it out. I'm not getting involved."

"It's pretty bad." Mun Hee cringes, "Jiwoo's tried to stop it but he got knocked back!"

Annoyed anger courses through my body and my fists clench.

"Should I get the ax or the bat?" Yong simply asks me as we start to walk towards Mun Hee.

"Hurry!" Mun Hee waves his hands, motioning us clsoer.

"I haven't had a good swing in a while." I give Yong my answer without saying the word.

"Bat it is." Yong nods in understanding.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry." Mun Hee says quickly. He rushes behind us and pushes us to get us to go faster.

~The Eighth Day~

"Why do I look like a chicken and you look so good?" Mun Hee's voice echoes down the hallway.

"You do not look like a chicken," Hoshi's voice laughs at his comment, "You just need more practice, and a bit more flexibility."

"Do you think it'll actually work?" Mun Hee wonders, a little out of breath.

"Oh yeah, show her that and she'll let you get a puppy in no time." Hoshi responds and the smile on my face is wiped away.

I round the corner and find the two of them facing each other. Hoshi's got his hands shoved into his pockets but his attention is solely on Mun Hee who is excitedly talking and moving his hands about.

"I'm so gonn- oh." Mun Hee finally notices me leaning against one of the pillars. My arms are crossed and I hope from my eyes he can tell I'm not all that happy. "Heh. Hi, (y/n)." He nervously laughs and gives a small wave.

Hoshi turns and he smiles when his eyes land on me.

"Did you tell him I had already told you no to the puppy?" I question Mun Hee with a raised eyebrow.

Mun Hee lowers his head and pouts, "No." He says similar to the way a child would when they get caught between two parents.

Hoshi pats him on the back, "Don't worry. Maybe you could show it to Yong and have her take you to go see puppies instead." He suggests and I shoot him a glare.

Mun Hee, however, brightens up slightly, "Good idea." He says before running off.

Pushing off from the pillar, I walk over to Hoshi, "Stop giving him ideas. He knows we have rules."

Hoshi smirks, "I see you're still the same strict lady."

I roll my eyes and sit on the bench, legs and arms crossed. "And I see you're still the same carefree man."

"Come on, (y/n)." Hoshi coos and plops himself down next to me but I shake my head, "You weren't this strict with Samuel."

"Samuel was different." I explain simply.

"Oh, uh huh, sure." Hoshi quickly raises his eyebrows, not believing me. "How did you come across Mun Hee anyway?" He wonders.

"The same way you came across Samuel." I say, playing with my hair.

Hoshi nods. "Did he also come to your door in a basket?" He jokes.

I slap his shoulder but can't stop the laugh that comes out. "You threw that joke out so much, I'm pretty sure he believed it."

Hoshi shakes his head, "No, he never believed it."

"How do you know?" I ask.

"He told me." He tells me. "I saw him."

"Here?" I wonder.

Hoshi nods, "It was a couple days ago. He found me at the bar and told me that I may not remember him but I would and that he was thankful and that he always knew he wasn't brought to me in a basket."

I quickly rise to my feet, "He could still be here, we could find hi-"

Hoshi grabs my hand and sadly shakes his head. "He left yesterday. I saw him walking out with the Jiwoo guy." I slowly lower myself back down, hand still in Hoshi's. "By the time I had asked someone what it was all about, he'd already left."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Hoshi." I give his hand a squeeze.

"You don't have to be." Hoshi counters, "It was part of the plan so there's no one to blame. I'm just glad we were able to be in the same place for at least a little bit."

I lean my head on his shoulder, "He was a good kid." I reminisce about Samuel and my time with him.

"He was." Hoshi says quietly, "But seriously, how did Mun Hee get here?"

"You're really that curious?" I ask with a chuckle.

"Yeah, because I never expected you to have someone with his personality around." Hoshi explains.

I sigh and point towards the sky, "They did it."

"The Gods?" Hoshi clarifies.

"Yupp," I confirm, "It was a few years after I was placed here. Yong and Soon Bok were asking for help because they were running short on staff. So I had to bargain with the Gods to give me someone. They only said they would if they got to choose the soul. I had no option but to agree. Then three days later, Mun Hee showed up with Shin and that was that."

"That is not how Samuel showed up to me." Hoshi emphasizes 'not.'

"No but life gave the exact opposite from what you were expecting." I reason. "Samuel was way younger than you had hoped. Mun Hee's personality was the exact opposite of what I thought I needed in this hotel." I shrug, "Same thing."

Hoshi chuckles, "You're definition of same is vastly different from the rest of the world."

"I don't exist in that world." I remind him.

Hoshi hums in agreement then falls silent. We sit there for a couple minutes, just soaking in each other's presence with our hands interlocked. But not long after, I can feel Hoshi's buzzing energy return. Nothing different from how we were. I was the quiet one but he kept my days buzzing with energy and conversations.

"What is it?" I ask him to keep him from quite literally vibrating off the bench.

"Can I ask you a question?" He glances over at me.

I nod, "Ask me any question you want."

"What have you been doing since you left?" Hoshi asks, sincerity laced in his voice.

"Me? I mean, I haven't been doing much." I answer his question, "I've been running this hotel and waiting for life to pass by."

"No exciting stories?" He wonders, like he doesn't believe I've told him the entire truth.

"Not really." I try to think of anything interesting that has happened at my hotel but nothing comes to mind. "Honestly, nothing interesting happens when I sit and wait for years."

We fall into a silence again and this time it takes only seconds for Hoshi to start itching to ask a question.

"Spit it out." I chuckle.

"Do you want to know what happened after you left?" He asks and I mentally facepalm for forgetting to ask about him.

I turn my head to look at his side profile, "Only if you want to tell me." I smile lazily.

"If I wan- woman, of course I want to tell you. There was so much you missed that you should know about." Hoshi says as if I'd gone crazy for thinking he wouldn't want to tell me.

I sit up properly and smile, happy to know that he wants me to know. "Then tell me."

Hoshi giggles, "Alright, first off, you actually leaving was shitty. And that hurt." He starts but quickly diverts to happier things, "Samuel, though, man that kid was something. You know he went off to college. He didn't study dance even though I had asked him to think about it. But he graduated in the four years with a degree in like psychology or something."

I raise my eyebrows, "You don't even remember?"

"Hey," Hoshi points a finger at me, "It was a long time ago."

"Hey," I point a finger back at him, "You should remember what your son majored in."

"He was only a few years younger than me. He was more like a little brother than a son." Hoshi defends himself. "A son would've been cool to have, though." He says thoughtfully.

"Did you ever have any?" I ask, tilting my head to the side.

Hoshi shakes his head, "I was graced with the drama of two daughters." Then he chuckles, "You know, it was probably better that I didn't have any sons."

"Why?" I ask, amused.

"Let's just say there were moments when I was the one more interested in their interests than they were." Hoshi laughs, pulling a laugh from me.

"Did they grow up well?" I wonder, tucking a foot under my leg.

Hoshi nods, "My oldest had some health issues when she was young but they went away after a few years. My younger was a rambunctious child but had no major problems. They grew up well. They went to good schools, got good degrees, married good men. My oldest gave me three grandchildren and my younger gave me two. I was happy."

"What was your wife like?" I ask, too busy imagining his life to really think about what I was asking.

Hoshi pauses, "You want to know about her too?" He asks, giving me a skeptical look.

I shrug, "She's the one who ultimately stole your heart and gave you children and a life." I explain.

"Well, she wasn't you. But then again, no one is like you." Hoshi starts, "She was beautiful. The perfect height for me to smother her in a cuddle when she wasn't feeling great. She was always making a fuss about the mess I'd leave in the house which she passed onto our daughters. I never got a break from the nagging.

"We traveled around after our daughters moved out and started their own lives. She enjoyed the trips but I don't think she really truly understood what I loved about it all. The inspiration I pulled from the world." Hoshi continues, playing with my hand. "You always understood that part. She never did. But she let me do what I needed to do so I was thankful for that."

I smile softly knowing that he was loved after I left. He deserved it. After all he did to raise and care for Samuel and after suffering from the effects of my punishment, he deserved to be loved.

Hoshi quiets down and just stares ahead at the bare tree in front of us.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask, his gaze set on the thoughts rolling through his mind.

"Just what to tell you next." Hoshi ponders.

I smile, "Hoshi, tell me everything."

He smiles brightly before starting the story about Samuel's dating life and how it was one of the most exhausting things he'd gone through.

We sit there for hours. Hoshi telling me every detail he can remember about his life and me listening and soaking up every word he says. The sound of his voice soothes some of my rough edges that had reappeared in the time I had been away from him. Like the way water tames the wild stray hairs after a sleepless night of tossing and turning in bed.

That was Hoshi. The water with energy to flow for days but with the ability to soothe my rough edges. That was my Hoshi.

"Do you think I'll remember how to dance when I cross over?" Hoshi suddenly asks as the sun dips lower.

I raise myself from my previous laying position and look at Hoshi with worry. "The Gods wouldn't take away something like that." I offer but am unsure of the answer myself.

Hoshi gives me a small side smile, "You don't even know the answer, do you?" He asks.

I shake my head, "I don't. I've never crossed so I can't say for sure what is kept and what is washed away."

"Well," Hoshi looks up towards the ceiling, "I hope you won't take away that." He says as if he's talking directly to the Gods. And I pray that they hear him.

He lowers his gaze to the west windows, "Sunset means it's time to go, right?"

I purse my lips, not wanting him to leave just yet. But Hoshi always had an equal amount of practicality to offset his amount of energy. He knew when things needed to be taken seriously.

"Your silence is telling me it is." Hoshi says after I stay silent, locked away in my own selfish thoughts.

"It is." I say quietly in confirmation. "But I don't want it to be."

Hoshi lowly chuckles, "That's not for us to decide now it is? Plus, you have others that are coming. You gotta be ready for them so when Mr. I-got-to-love-(y/n)-first arrives, you'll be able to leave this place with a peaceful heart."

I giggle at his nickname for the one who will release me from my punishment. Hoshi rises to his feet and dramatically bows while holding out a hand.

"My lady." He says, lifting his head to wink at me.

I smile at his silliness and grab his hand. Lifting me up, he suddenly pulls me into his chest, wraps the other arm around my waist and rests his nose against mine.

"What are you doing?" I whisper, relaxing into him.

Hoshi smiles lazily, "Enjoying my time with you." He says before kissing me lightly.

Before he can pull away, I press my lips onto his, giving him another kiss, this time harder. I feel him smile before he attacks my cheeks with kisses. Giggling, I try to pull away but his grip on me is like iron, unbreakable. Hoshi presses a final soft kiss onto the tip of my nose before pulling back.

"We should go." He says, unwrapping his arm from my waist. "I don't want that creepy Grim Reaper to be hunting me."

I laugh at the version of Shin that Hoshi is imagining. He smiles at my laughter and we begin to walk out of the garden. Hoshi swings our arms back and forth but his face is thinking, trying to cover up the sad thoughts with happy actions.

I'm so focused on watching Hoshi's face, that I don't realize we've exited the hotel until my heels sink into the soft dirt.

"Careful." Hoshi steadies me. He then glances at Shin and the car waiting to take him over. "Does he always just wait there?"

"Only when someone is leaving." I answer him as we resume walking towards Shin. "The dead are great at being punctual."

Hoshi releases a breathy laugh at my attempted joke. "I guess I shouldn't be the one that's not then."

I wrap him in a hug as Shin opens the car door. Hoshi squeezes my body tightly and I breathe in his familiar scent one last time.

"I'm going to remember you." Hoshi declares quietly, "Even if I don't remember, I'm going to remember."

I choke out a laugh through the tears that line my eyes, "That's not even possible."

We pull apart as I sniffle. Hoshi wears a smile but his eyes are clouded with sadness. "Just you watch. I'm going to do it, love. I'm going to remember you."

I smile a nod, "I love you." I tell him.

"I love you, (y/n)." Hoshi smiles sadly before turning and walking to the car. He pauses for a second just before he's in the car and turns around, "Does he ever smile?" Hoshi points a thumb at Shin.

I laugh as a tear slides down my cheek and Hoshi, satisfied that he got me laughing, ducks into the car. Shin shuts the door behind him and soon the car is on its way.

As I watch the car take my dancer away, tears slowly fall from my eyes. When the car is fully swallowed by the forest fog, one chrysanthemum in my garden loses its bright white petals and withers away.

After my tears have been spent, I dry my cheeks and sniffle on the way back inside the hotel to continue my waiting.

Return to the Navigation Page (Waning Crescent Hotel) to choose the next guest.

"Hey, (y/n)," Hoshi grabs my attention as the sun sets, "Do you think we'll remember how to dance when we cross over?" He asks.

"You mean will you remember how to dance and will I remember how to look like a toddler learning how to walk." I correct him with a smile.

"You could dance." Hoshi reassures me.

I give him a look of 'really?' "If Mun Hee looked like a chicken trying to learn your dances, then I looked like baby giraffe trying to stand up."

Hoshi barks out laughing, "I find that hard to believe. I thought you were pretty graceful."

I hum in amusement, "That was when I was younger. My knees are older than you remember."

"Do your knees still work to walk?" He asks, standing up, and shoving his hands in his pockets, waiting expectantly.

I jump up to prove they work, "If they didn't, would you have carried me?" I question.

"In a heartbeat." Hoshi dramatically places a hand over his heart and closes his eyes.

I giggle, "Come on. I wanna say good bye to my staff before we leave."

"Happy to be leaving?" Hoshi asks as we leave the bare tree behind.

"I'm happy that my punishment is over," I answer, "But part of me is kind of sad to be leaving Soon Bok, Jiwoo, Yong, Mun Hee, and Shin."

"That's natural." Hoshi says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

As we get closer to the lobby, Hoshi drops his arm and grabs my hand. In the lobby, Yong, Mun Hee, Soon Bok, and Jiwoo stand solemnly.

"So this is it?" Mun Hee asks with tears in his eyes. "This is the day you leave us?"

I wrap him up in a hug, only a tiny bit annoyed that he's being so sappy. "Maybe I'll get punished again and be back here by the end of the year." I try to joke but Mun Hee abruptly pushes back from me.

"Don't you dare say that. You better not return here." He says angrily through his tears.

I chuckle, "I won't come back. I promise." Then I hold out my pinky to him, "And no puppies."

Mun Hee links his pinky with mine, "No puppies." He promises.

Turning to Soon Bok, I thank her for her service and her amazing work. Something I never did and should've done more.

Next onto Jiwoo. I also thank him for his and his entire family's service then I unclip the bracelet that has held him to this place.

"When you leave today, you won't be able to find this place again." I inform him, "I hope that you'll be able to go and live your life happily."

Jiwoo nods, "Thank you for letting me work with you. I won't ever forget you."

I smile sadly, "You will. But thank you."

Finally I reach Yong who is sniffling and trying so very hard not cry.

"You'd think after all these years of waiting that I'd be prepared for this day." She says through sniffles.

"Thank you, Yong." I rests my hands on her shoulders, "For everything. Thank you."

With lips pursed together, she leans forward and wraps me in an unexpected hug. But I soon wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tightly.

We pull apart after a couple seconds and I wipe the few tears that have escaped from her eyes.

"Keep this hotel running beautifully." I tell her before Hoshi grabs my hand again.

With final waves of goodbye, Hoshi and I walk out to the foggy forest that will take us to our resting place.

At the edge of the forest, Shin stands next to an idling car, a somber look on his face.

"(y/n)." He says when we reach him, "It has been an honor working with you. I wish you both a peaceful rest." Shin bows his head and I pat his arm.

"The honor was mine." I tell him with a smile. Now the tears start to line my eyes as the realization fully sets in.

I'm free. I served my years of punishment and now I'm free to let my soul rest.

I turn back towards the hotel and look up to the top where the rooftop patio is outlined with bright string lights. Then to the mid floors where random room lights are turned on, some guests staying in while others opting to experience the hotel's many services. Then to grand base where guests would be milling around, waiting their turns to leave this world.

"(y/n)?" Hoshi softly asks pulling my attention to where he sits just inside the car, "Are you ready?"

I take one last quick look at the hotel before turning away from it. "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

I lower myself into the car and Shin securely closes the door after I am completely inside. As the car begins to drive forward, Hoshi securely grabs my hand and I let his warmth guide me towards our final destination.

In the garden, the final chrysanthemum withers and dies so that no more stand at the base of the bare tree.

#kpop #kpop imagines #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen hoshi imagine #seventeen soonyoung imagine #hoshi imagine #soonyoung imagine #kwon soonyoung imagine #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #writer-k-pop #waning crescent hotel #seventeen hoshi #seventeen soonyoung

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mrsren · 4 years

Text

I have no current plans to continue this, but it popped out of my head while I was trying to find an idea for my tragedy fest piece that I still have not written because I am a garbage can. Like 400 words of Voldemort Wins AU, Dramione Angst under the cut. Trust me, it’s literally nothing. Lol.

His voice brought back memories of broken bones and darkened rooms.

There were things that she would never be able to forget, and Hermione often replayed them as she lay in the stone room that reeked of mildew, and her own blood. With that familiar tang in the air, Hermione counted the specks in the ceiling while threading her fingers together over her stomach.

She could remember her father’s face, his lips quirked up into a content smile as they moved from room to room in a game of hide and seek. Her mother’s lips brushing against her hair when Hermione was still a child who needed to be read a story when it came time to sleep.

Sometimes now, Hermione recited that same story to herself as tremors rolled through her skin. But if she were honest, she couldn’t remember the story in itself, only the emotions it had brought. And so, the stories always changed.

Over and over again until they were unrecognizable.

Some nights, when he was there, he held his wand to her temple, and whispered words that allowed him to live inside her head.

Sometimes, came the traitorous thought that shouldn’t have formed, she wanted him to stay there. Right there with her forever, in the only capacity that she could ever have him.

From the outside—in nights that had come a long time ago—Hermione could remember spitting in his face.

Yanking his hair as hard as she could when he came to close—false words of reassurances pouring form his mouth—and she’d watched blond strands slip between her fingers.

Stockholm Syndrome, she had called it. Maybe he hadn’t known what the muggle diagnosis was, but he undoubtedly knew as the months had scraped by.

A day at a time, a story at a time, Draco Malfoy had visited her.

She wasn’t sure that he was allowed to; she’d never asked.

If she did, it might unravel the thin string that held her together.

Unfortunately, he had the power to do that all on his own.

#dramione #drabble #mrsren #dark #voldemort wins

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cilliankelly · 3 years

Text

text 📱 cillian & jude.

Discord text thread featuring: cillian & @judetaylorhq

When: january 24th

Mentions: @robinscnfm & @claudiafernandez96

Description: jude asks cillian to check his bank statement for him. upon discovering jude has $30k in the bank, cillian freaks out. they argue, they break up, and then they get back together. bc these two literally can not go to bed angry at each other.

trigger warnings: mentions of the car accident.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

actually can you do me a favor

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

anything

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

i left my office computer open, can you check my bank statement and see if a payment went through today? it was like around 400 bucks or something.

my phone keeps kicking me off the app

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

yeah give me a second

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

thanks baby

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t really know what i’m looking at here.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

there should be a business account and a personal one

you'll be looking at the personal one.

and the payment was for my bike, so it's like to a dealership

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i can’t be reading this right.

it doesn’t make any sense.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

it's just a payment babe.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i see that but it says there’s like 30k in this account. maybe i’m looking at the business one hold on.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

no that's right. can you tell me if the payment went through?

we seriously need to teach you about basic bookkeepping huh babe? lol

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

what do you mean it’s right?

no, i can fucking read, i just can’t believe that you have 30k in your personal account???

there’s no way that’s right.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

oh. well yeah i told you i was trying to buy a house

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

jesus christ

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

what?

just spit it out.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i just...??? what are you fucking playing at? acting like you’re still southie trash while you have 30k in the fucking bank?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

playing? we grew up together asshole

i have a fucking job?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

how could i possibly forget?? you with your adult ass job and your adult ass money and your adult ass house?

who just has 30k in the bank?? fucking northies, that’s who. jesus fucking christ.

am i like a fucking charity case to you or something?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

i'm not doing this.

that bank account paid for your fucking hospital bills jackass, you didn't have a problem with me dropping 8k on your fucking leg.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you don’t think i feel guilty about that? you don’t think i feel shitty about contributing absolutely nothing money wise to this relationship?

guess i didn’t have to worry, fucking money bags over here

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

you're being stupid.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

now i’m fucking stupid?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

no you're acting stupid.

you're seriously pissed at me before having a savings account?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

no you know what?

i am fucking stupid. i should have known. as soon as you got that fucking job, we weren’t on the same level anymore.

your life is so fucking together.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

so we're doing this again?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

apparently, yeah.

since i had no idea you were fucking loaded this whole time

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

i'm not loaded that money is spoken for.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

right bc you’re buying a fucking HOUSE at 24

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

jesus christ cillian.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i can’t remember the last time i had more than $100 in my account.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

i guess that's my fault.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t fucking get it

giving ellie hell about her rich boyfriend while you’re making six fucking figures.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

yeah, at a job i work my ass of for everyday. i'm not marrying some rich douchebag.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

no, you’re just dating a broke ass loser with no prospects. so that somehow balances everything out.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

You want me to apologize for having a job? And knowing how to save money?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

no, why should you apologize for being an adult with adult responsibilities and an adult job? clearly i know nothing about any of that, so who am i to say anything at all.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

your words.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

what was wrong with the way things used to be? before you went to fucking school?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

everything? we were miserable and our life sucked?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

well. fuck me for thinking what we had was enough i guess.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

what do you want me to do here, Cillian?

what are you looking for?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t know. i feel fucking stupid.

i feel like i’m always behind. like you’re doing all this shit and i’m just along for the fucking ride. and that fucking sucks.

and you know how i feel about this money stuff. it makes my fucking skin crawl.

i hate feeling like a fucking charity case. like you feel sorry for me or something because i can’t do anything for myself.

i hate needing you as much as i do.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

So what do you want then? You want to break up? You want to move out?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

what so you can continue paying my fucking rent while i live in your apartment? the fuck??

why the fuck is ellie texting me.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Because you don't listen to me.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

so you went to ellie???????????

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Yeah, I did.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i guess that makes sense. of course she would take your side.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

My side of what?

Fuck me for having a job?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i told you how i felt and your response was to ask me if i wanted you to move out and texting ellie to ask her to “check up on me”?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Fine, I'm the one fucking this up.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you??? fuck something up??? that’s my job, remember?

i’m going over to claudia’s.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Great. Yeah go fuck claudia Cillian.

You know what, just stay there. You two can fuel each other's misery and wallow.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

right, because you don’t care if i’m fucking her as long as you can watch.

that’s what we’re best at.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I don't care if you fuck her. Just know you're not welcome back here if you do.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you don’t make any fucking sense sometimes.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Aren't you supposed to be off to cheat on me now?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you asked me not to. and i told you i wouldn’t. but i think you’ve made it pretty obvious that you don’t trust me, so.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I think it's pretty sus that everyone you go to for advice or when we fight is someone you fucked already.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

now you’re acting stupid.

tee is a fucking therapist. and claudia is claudia.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Yeah he's a great therapist, I'm sure.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

at least i could talk to him about my feelings without him threatening to break up with me?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I'm not doing this. If I come home and you're gone then I'll know. That's it.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

how many times have you told me you’re not coming home when we’re in an argument? now i try to get some fucking space and you tell me it’s over? fuck off.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Fine.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

fine what

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Do whatever you want.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

fine.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

you're a jackass.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

not news. asshole.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

find a place.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

so that’s it then. you’re kicking me out.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

everytime we fight you throw it in my face that i take care of you.

so this is me not taking care of you, since that's what you want.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

fine. not as if i haven’t been thrown out before. i’ll figure something out.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

and maybe we should take a break.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i knew it.

it was just a matter of time before you gave up on me too.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

i'm not giving up i'm giving you what you want

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

whatever. i don’t need the excuses. i’m used to it.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

it's not an excuse asshole. i'm the one that's in love with you and wanted to take care of you.

you're the one calling me a fraud because i have a goddamn job.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

whatever.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

fine. so we're done then?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you said you wanted a break.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

fine.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

fine.

an hour later...

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I know you'd stoop low but this is some new shit jackass

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

???

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I meant what I said. If you fuck her don't bother coming back to me. Ever

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t know where this is coming from. but i wouldn’t do that. believe me or not, but i also meant what i said. that you’re the only one i want. sorry if it’s really that difficult for you to trust me.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

It's difficult for me to trust you with her.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

in the month that we’ve been dating, the only times i’ve fucked her is when you invited her to bed with us. don’t give me that shit.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Whatever Cillian.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

no, don’t whatever me

not when you’re the one who has tried to bring her into our relationship multiple times.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Because if I don't you're gonna leave me for her

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

what?

you can’t honestly think that

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Don't act stupid.

Yeah, I do. I know it and tonight proves it

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

where else was i supposed to go?!

she’s my friend jude but that’s it! that’s all she is. i love you and don’t know how many times i’ve told you that. that you’re the only person that matters to me. why can’t you fucking believe me?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Because why would I be your first choice when I'm no one else's?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

jude.

you know that you’re the first and only person that i’ve ever been in love with right? you’re my oldest friend.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Well that means nothing to you bc I have a few bucks saved up

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

a few bucks.

why didn’t you just... i don’t know. why weren’t you honest with me?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I told you weeks ago that I was saving up money. Sorry I didn't give you a bank statement dumbass.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

yeah, well, my mom is saving money. she has like $250 in her savings account.

i felt so fucking guilty, jude. i thought i lost you the fucking house.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I told you not to worry about it

I told you it was fine.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i’m not used to this.

i’m not used to someone looking out for me. taking care of me. not the way you do.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

You should be used to being an asshole you've been one all your life.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

yeah well. painfully used to that one, thanks.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Whatever.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

yeah. whatever.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I don't deserve the shit you give me just because I take care of you. If being with me is such a burden then fine, I release you or whatever. We're through you can be with someone who never gives you anything.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

so i’m an ungrateful little shit then.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Well it's either that or I'm a piece of shit for taking care of my crippled boyfriend.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

is it crazy?? for me to feel like shit for not being able to do for you what you do for me??

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

It's crazy that you have to make me feel like shit about it.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

sorry i’m such a shitty boyfriend.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Yeah. Me too.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

great. well. we done here?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Apparently we are.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

great.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Be safe.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you too.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I am.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you’re home then?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Where else would I be?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t know. just forget it. good night.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Forget what

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

that i even asked.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Why did you ask?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i dunno jude, maybe i just wanted to make sure you were okay.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I'm fine. I'm sleeping alone.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i trust you. even if you don’t trust me.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I'd have more trust if you didn't go straight to the girl who you've admitted you have no control around.

I already cleaned up the last mess you made with her.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

so you keep fucking reminding me. what happened to not holding that shit over my head?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Oh like you're currently holding my job over mine?

You know..

Never mind.

See you around.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

fucking say it.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

You'd rather die in a car wreck than grown old with me.

That's why I can't stop holding it over your head because I never stop thinking about that

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

if that’s honestly what you think

then everything i’ve done these last couple weeks has been a waste of fucking time.

if me actually giving a shit about my future isn’t proof enough then nothing will be.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Right that's why you freaked out at me for having one.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

maybe it’d be better if i had died in that fucking car wreck, huh? at least maybe then i wouldn’t make you so fucking miserable all the time.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I'm not doing this. I'm the one that is planning for OUR future. You're the one that keeps running away from it.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

whatever. i’ve already said everything i can say at this point. this is pointless. i’m fucking tired of arguing.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

So that's it then?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t know anymore.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Fine. I love you. But clearly it wasn't good for you while it lasted.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i’m sorry if you honestly believe that.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I didn't. But the way you're talking now.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

at 3am when i’m fucking tired and pissed at you?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Are you going to come home tomorrow?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

do you want me to come home tomorrow?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Do you want this to be your home still?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i’m still pissed at you.

but you’re the only home i’ve ever had.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Tomorrow then.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

tomorrow.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I love you.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i love you too.

i really hope you know that.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I do. Doesn't mean I'm okay with you being in bed with her and not me.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i’m yours.

i was mad at you. and maybe i knew it would bother you... but i would never cheat on you. with her or anyone else.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I believe you. But I don't trust she won't try something. She already told me if she did you'd say yes.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

she’s pissed at you too.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

She can go fuck herself.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i know you don’t trust her.

but she wouldn’t.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I don't believe that.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

regardless. i’m not gonna let that happen. okay?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Okay.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you’re it.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Forever?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

no matter what happens.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I love you

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i love you too.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Night baby.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t think i’m gonna be able to sleep.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

You'll be fine. You know Claudia's boobs are like sleeping pills, just lay on them. But don't get hard because I'll kill you.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

if i get hard it’s only because i’ll be dreaming about you all night long, babe

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Don't be gross.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you love when i’m gross.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Sometimes.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i miss you.

and i’m hungry

i really wanted that pizza

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

There still pizza. I'll put it in the fridge for you.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

thank you.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

...I could take tomorrow off?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

only if you want to. i know i gave you grief but... i mean you don’t have to do that for me.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

It's fine. I'll be here when you get home

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i love you

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I know. I love you too. So much, Cillian.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you’re my best friend, jude. and you’ll always be my first choice.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I guess I have my own demons to face.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

we’re gonna try together, remember?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I know. It just feels impossible some times.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

trust me, i know. but we’ve got each other.

i know i put you through a lot. that you deal with a lot of my unresolved shit. and i know that’s not easy. but if you need me to take some of the weight every once and awhile... hold you up... i can do that.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Always. And..fuck.

I just...I'm trying to hold myself together for you. But it's like...even though I have a job and shit...I'm still a disaster.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i put a lot of pressure on you to keep me together, and i know that’s not fair. if you need to fall apart on me i promise i’ll do my best to put you back together, okay?

i love you so much.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

We'll talk about the money tomorrow. It's been a long time saving up. I have a plan. For us.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

okay. tomorrow.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Love you my baby.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i love you too, so so so much.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I know. I know. You're my whole world.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

and you’re mine. forever. no matter what happens.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

No matter what happens baby. Go to bed, come home early.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

okay. i’ll see you tomorrow

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Okay my love.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

all yours 😊

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Mine 🥰

#discord #texts → cillian & jude

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bluejaytaco · 4 years

Text

Yet again DND with Jay

(Another long one, folks. In our campaign, we have something we call a ��Daiquiri Night.” It’s used for when too many people can’t be there or in situations where people are too preoccupied to do anything deep and plot-heavy. It’s pretty much a filler episode where we’re free to fuck around with very little consequences and, towards the end, the DM throws in small plot hints so it’s not a complete bust. It’s good for character development and getting the party a little closer.

Last session, we all drank and were expecting such an session. What we got was heavy plot stuff and horrible consequences. Also, so far most of the Daiquiri Nights are run by Ticket Master; being the only god who follows us so closely.)

Ticket Master: (Stopping Hennessy B from killing us and dropping Alabaster back into our party) Alright, so! Who wants to die right now?

Everyone: .....

Ticket Master: No one? Great! Now, who wants to go on a fun-filled adventure?

Everyone:...

Art: (slowly raises his hand)

Koejin: (Pushes Art’s hand back down) No....

Ticket Master, ignoring Koejin: Everyone? Great! Let’s go.

(We get pulled into a world that is just one giant Carnival. After giving our tickets over to Ticket Master, We all enter and start to go our own separate ways. This is where things become very character plot heavy.)

Koejin: (climbs the Ferris Wheel to see if she can see anyway out)

People on the car she’s standing on: (her parents, who keep screaming about being abandoned and how she let them die.)

DM: You see the parking lot you walked through to get here and then, far beyond that, you see mist. Above you is the portal you came through; it’s still open.

Koejin, nodding: Alright, I’m gonna head back down

Koejin’s parents: (riding on the car she’s standing on top of) You left us! You took another woman as your mother! You can never be forgiven!

Koejin: (jumps down once she’s at ground level) I didn’t abandon you. You died and I was five.

Ticket Master: (pointing at the now faded parents) Yeah! She was five! See? I backed you up.

Koejin gave him a little pat on the shoulder and nearly lost an arm for it. She then heads over to the bar to drink her face off.

Theodora, on the bumper cars: (Getting blamed for the deaths of her soldiers. She bumps cars with a young, fifteen year old Koejin.)

Young Koejin: Ugh, what are you doing here?

Theodora:...I....

Young Koejin: You should just leave! No one wants you here; you’re ruining everyone’s fun!

Koejin: (In the bar, drinking real alcohol and being served by a bartender that’s not Ticket Master. In other words, having a good time. A Ticket Master portal opens by her head to show her what’s going on by Theodora.).... (Pulls out her bow and arrow and aims for Young Koejin’s head.)

DM: I want you to think about what you’re doing here. You’re about to shoot young you in front of Theodora. (Sidenote: DM also implemented a “sanity meter” for us. Anytime we see something fucked up or extremely jarring, we become a little more insane.)

Koejin’s player: I know. I’m still doing it.

Koejin shoots Young Koejin right in the head and Theodora has to roll a Wisdom saving throw. Luckily, she rolled a 19.

DM: So, Theodora. You don’t see it as young Koejin dying in front of you. You see it for what it is; Koejin apologizing.

Koejin, from inside the bar: I was an asshole. Come drink with me.

(Theodora goes through the portal to join Koejin in the bar.)

Hennessy, at the balloon shoot: (All the faces look like his team mates, He sits in front of Theodora’s.)

Vincent (Hennessy’s fiance), sits down at the Hennessy head: I bet you I can get mine to pop before you.

Hennessy, immediately suspicious: Alright, what do you wager? (Rolls perception to find out for sure he isn’t Vincent. His suspicions are confirmed.)

Vincent: Well, if you win, you and Vincent live happily ever after and he never has to work again. If I win, you fall out of love with him.

Hennessy: No deal.

Vincent:... Well, how about just the ring then? He can always make you another one.

Hennessy, noticeably more hesitant:...Still no.

(A Ticket Master portal opens to show Vincent slaving away at his work for Mrs. Red. His pain has him in tears but he continues on.)

Fake Vincent: You would really not save him from this pain?

Hennessy: (just starts playing the game and shoots water into Theodora’s mouth. The portal shifts over to the bar.)

Theodora, in the bar: (takes a shot and it shoots right out of her mouth. Her stomach starts to bloat and she starts to spit up water.)

Hennessy: (Immediately stops)

Vincent: (stands up) you know, Hennessy, you can be a catty bitch. (walks away)

Hennessy: (watches him)....and don’t you forget it. (Goes through the portal into the bar.)

Meanwhile, at the bar

Ticket Master, sitting on the bar: (Watching as Theodora keels over) If only there was someone who could destroy that water, you’d be fine! ((Another running gag in the campaign; Alabaster casting Create or Destroy Water more than any other move.))

Wreybar, over at the Test your Strength

Wreybar: (Picks up the mallet)

(Her father’s head appears on the target as she swings down.)

DM: You still have the chance to stop.

Wreybar’s Player: ... I’m gonna follow through.

DM:...What, really? Shit, didn’t expect that! So, you smash in your father’s head. Blood, bone and grey matter fly everywhere. Then, you’re entire family comes running out cheering and screaming “Wreybar! you killed us! Yay!”

Wreybar: (starts crying) I’m sorry!

DM: As you see everyone praising and cheering you, you notice something weird. There is one person not doing that. It’s your brother.

Wreybar:(goes up to him)

Wreybar’s brother: Wreybar.... what’s going on? (Unlike everyone else, he seems real)

((I was drinking so this particular convo gets a little foggy. But it ends with someone killing Wreybar’s brother (Almost positive it was Ticket Master) and the DM pulling her aside to discuss something in private. I’m typically the one who keeps track of the story so I hope Wreybar remembers this part well enough. If not, its our DM’s job to remind her anyways.))

Art, At the Fortune Teller (Koejin’s player: Of course you would go there!)

DM: You step in to see a robotic person who is a very racist stereotype. He’s dark skinned, wearing a turban, talking in a thick accent and saying, in a broken robotic voice “I aM a Raacis-t dePICtion! Wo-ould you like your FoRTune?!”

Art: Uhhhh, wow. This was not at all what I was expecting... Uh, is there a way out of here?

Fortune Teller: A W-ay OuT? Whaat evR do you Me-aaN?

Art:....Nevermind. Can you just... not do this? Turn into someone else.

Fortune Teller: Wh-o would you LYKe?

Art: Literally anyone else would be better.

Fortune Teller: (Turns into Alabaster) Bet-ter?

Art:... Yeah, I can work with this.

Fortune Teller Alabaster: S-oo... WouLD you lYKe your Fooort-une?

Art: Sure. Uh.... what’s my future look like?

Fortune Teller Alabaster: BLEAK!

Art: Sounds about right.

Fortune Teller Alabaster: (Morphs into Hennessy. All robotic jerking is gone.) Now, how about we talk about why you’re a piece of shit?

Art: ...And that sounds like something you’d say to me.

FT Hennessy: And it’s true; you are a piece of shit. My hubby says you abandoned your sister and I’m inclined to believe him over your lyin’ ass.

Art: Okay no. Hennessy’s the smartest one out of all of us. I know for a fact he has enough sense to not follow Vincent blindly and think I actually meant to abandon my sister.

(A Ticket Master portal appeared in the bar near Hennessy. He tunes in just in time to hear Art speak.)

Hennessy: .... (reaches through the portal and smacks the Fake Hennessy in the face. It melts away to reveal Ticket Master underneath.) You’re right, Art. I am the smartest person here. And I’m smart enough to know you have a lot of problems; abandonment is not one of ‘em.

Art: ...Alright. I guess.... you’re not so bad.

Ticket Master: (Hand on his cheek) Hennessy just slapped me.... what an honor! (Hearts appear around him)

Art, noticing this: Okay, that’s not at all concerning.... (Goes through the portal and into the bar with everyone else.)

Alabaster over by the Carousel (Everyone to the DM: You better not fucking hurt him, I swear to god. ((We are all a part of the Alabaster Protection Squad.)))

Alabaster: (Sees his family near one side, his old friend on another, and Eris (the daughter he recently adopted) on a third. Sidenote: Eris was his old friend’s and General Blue’s daughter. Blue left her to Alabaster, but we ended up killing her long before knowing about Eris.).... (Sits by his family being that he hasn’t seen them in 400 years)

Blue: So, you’re gonna completely ignore my daughter? Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted you with her. Maybe I should just kill her now and put her out of her misery now.

Alabaster: There is no need to resort to....

Blue: (Goes to Eris)

Alabaster: (immediately dives for Eris)

(Ticket Master Portal appears in the bar next to Theodora. She doesn’t see it until Wreybar points it out to her. This turns into a fight for everyone to keep Blue away from Alabaster and Eris, which everyone learned was just a heated water baby.)

Alabaster: (casts blindness on Blue)

Art: (Reaches in for Alabaster)

Alabaster, to Blue: You’re sight will return momentarily. And I promise you, Eris will be well taken care of. There is no need to worry.

DM: Alabaster, Art; you two look at each other and remember the first time you met, back in that pit where Thia saved you. You think about how much you’ve been through together and start to feel a little more at peace. Both of you roll a 20. If it turns out you somehow get the same number, your sanity will be at -20 (The scale goes from -20 to 20. Negatives are more sane.)

(Alabaster and Art rolled an 18 and a 17 respectively. The numbers were so close, the DM gave us both a point for sanity.)

DM: So, you guys are at the bar, having a grand old time. The bartender, for each of you, looks like you’re ideal sexual partner.

Koejin’s Player: (laugh) does that mean Art’s is just Ticket Master?

Me:..... yeaaahhhhhhh.....

DM, looks at Alabaster’s player knowingly: And what’s Alabaster’s?

Alabaster’s Player: A giraffe with Jeff Goldblum’s head.

Everyone: (laughing)

Me: Can anyone else see that? Cuz Art might be judging his best friend if he can.

DM: Nope, you can only see your own. But you guys are having a good time. Alabaster and Wreybar are understanding they both have a similar history and have been through a lot of the same issues. That starts to bring them closer. Hennessy and Art; you two now understand there is more to one another that you didn’t know before. You feel as though you’re coming to terms with one another. And, Theodora and Koejin. The two of you understand now that the past should be left in the past. There is a lot to work on, but you’re on the right track.

....(Personally, I think this would have been the perfect time for Ticket Master to send us back and let that be the end of the session. We were all closer than before and all that.... but the DM had a different plan.)

DM: The bartender shifts from your ideal partners to Ticket Master... So, he stays the same for Art.

Ticket Master: Well, now that you’re all closer, I’d say this is a time well spent. Now, here’s something you can do for me. (He slides a blank piece of paper in front of everyone.) When you’re ready, all you need to do is sign the bottom. No rush.

Art: (Sees the actual contract and decides to keep it to himself.)

Theodora: (Takes out a cigar that Ticket Master gave her and hands it back to him.) Here, so you’ll have a last smoke (she throws the contract back) when I kill you.

Ticket Master, frowning(A rare occurrence):... you shouldn’t have done that.

Me: Oh shit...

Koejin’s Player: Byyyeee Theodora....

Alabaster’s Player: (covering his mouth) nononono

Ticket Master: (his face opens up to reveal unspeakable horrors. Tentacles move out to grab for Theodora and drive her to complete insanity.)

Wreybar: (Moves in the way to share some of the insanity. Both are now insane, but Theodora is at least able to function.)

Alabaster: (Casts create or destroy water over them. I think the purpose was to get Ticket Master away from them. Don’t remember; was pretty drunk.)

DM: Oh god... shit! No...(Sigh) well, I need to follow my own rules... As the water comes down, you see a giant minotaur come from the ground behind Ticket Master. It’s Shmoogie. Ticket Master stops what he’s doing but, before he can say anything beyond “you don’t-”, Shmoogie grabs him and tears him apart. In Shmoogie’s hand, you see Ticket Master’s face. He’s saying “You have no idea what you’ve done!” Then, Shmoogie crushes it.

Shmoogie: You’ve all done well. We will deal with him now; no need to worry.

Skelly, at Shmoogie’s side: Yeah, we did good!

Theodora: Skelly! How do you know our buddy, Shmoogie?

Skelly: Well, I like sand. And I don’t have any memories, but would really like to have some so.... God of Sand and Memories.

(Shmoogie then disappears back into wherever he came from.)

Koejin: Well, good work team! No more Ticket Master.

Art, who isn’t the happiest about this turn of events:.... but now we’re stuck here.

Koejin: That sounds like a problem for Next week Koejin!

(And this is where we left off. I have conflicted feelings about this situation. Art is.... a little less conflicted than me....)

DM: Oh shit! I almost forgot!... you guys are sitting around, thinking about everything that just happened and, suddenly.... Art dabs.

Art:.... (hating his life and his creator)

Theodora: Art..... you’re so dated.....

(Context: Me and the DM are close. So close that we have a tendency to argue about anything and everything. This doesn’t work when I’m a player in his campaign. Which means, he decided that, inspired by a miniature I just bought, any time I say no to something DND related, Art has to dab. It’s a stupid little thing, but a thing nevertheless.)

#dnd #adventures of art the bard #dnd wizard #dnd bard #dnd tiefling #dnd cleric #dnd ranger #dnd barbarian #dnd paladin #dnd elf #dnd gnome #homebrew characters #can't wait to see how we fucked ourselves over here #Art's gonna drink his face off from everything we got going on #He's gonna wanna save Ticket Master #and he'll most likely be alone there #shut up jay

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valkyriesryde · 4 years

Text

Midnight Visitor

JUNE - THE LONE KIWI

Pairing: Avengers x OC Samantha Thompson, Bucky Barnes x OC Samantha Thompson (eventually...)

Summary: Samantha stumbles into a disheveled Steve and finds a monster in the dark that needs taming.

Word Count: 1264

Warnings: PTSD (and talks about it), swearing, angst?, fluff?

A/N: This is also for @a-mess-of-fandoms ‘s 400 writing challenge the prompt is bolded! Congrats again hun! there is also another author’s note at the end that adds some explaining and context to what she’s talking about that I would appreciate it if people read that bless. ENJOY

Masterlist

~~~~

He’s shaking, but he’s sweating. Too hot. Need to take off layers. Head leaning against the glass too feel some sort of cold.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” it still rings in his ears.

“I DON’T NEED YOU!” like gun fire that makes him retreat back into himself. Arm held against his chest so it can’t hurt anyone.

There’s muffled voices outside that break through the cloud he’s hidden himself in.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing - nothing, you should be in bed.”

“So should you...Steve?”

“Yea?”

“He doesn’t mean it...whatever he said.”

“I know.”

“Go to bed Steve, he’ll be okay.”

“You should too, he just needs to be alone.”

He winces at the voices, at the memory from a mere ten minutes ago that flashes across his mind. A disheveled Steve, scared almost, small like before.

“GET OUT STEVE!” the words cut into him and he lets out a sob, his chest hurting from holding his breath. It doesn’t sound like him but it is, he knows it is. It’s like he’s just looking back at himself, like he’s no longer a part of his being, he’s left his body, watching himself yell and cry and push away Steve and anyone else that tried to come near him when he got like this. He didn’t want to. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

Until Steve nodded dimly and walked out the door. And Bucky slid down the glass wall, curled into a ball pressed into the corner of the room and squeezed his eyes shut. He deserved this.

Until the door inched open again, after footsteps walked down the hallway. It opened then closed but he didn’t dare look at it, he couldn’t stand the look off hurt on Steve’s face.

“Just let me be Steve,” he whimpered out, an attempt at being strong but it failed dismily and slapped him in the face, you’re not okay you fool.

“What if I’m not Steve?” Sammy, she didn’t deserve to see him like this. She didn’t deserve to be the victim of his rage.

“Go away.” He opened his eyes and stared a hole into the glass. Through the reflection he could see her, standing by the door, not even a step in.

“No.” His eyebrows knitted down and his arm tightened around his knees, his metal fist clenched against his ribcage. “Either I sit on this side of the door or the other. It’s up to you.”

He stayed silent and glared at her reflection. Watched it slide down the door and rest her head against the door. “I’ll pick for you.”

She closed her eyes. He watched her chest move up and down steadily and calmly. She shouldn’t be calm, her guard shouldn’t be down. Bucky glanced down at his hand, black laced with gold and then suddenly silver and dripping with red. He gasped and blinked, the red back to gold and the silver gone black, catching the light of the moon on his forearm.

A deep breath in. Just in case she was watching him, so she couldn’t see how unstable he was. He’s not sure how long it’s been now. She won’t say anything, she’s not moving. She’s just sitting there, picking at a loose thread in her sweatpants.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” His words are venom, he’s sick of the unwanted attention. Spit it out and leave me alone. He wants to tell her. Never to her though.

“Why would I do that?”

“It’s what they all do. Say something inspiring that should be on a stupid poster with a fucking cat,” then fuck off.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

Silent again and Bucky can’t take it anymore. Why isn’t she saying anything?! She usually never shuts up and not she’s just sitting there picking at a loose thread? Two more minutes pass and Bucky’s toes have stopped tapping.

“Why are you here?” He finally looks at her to find her eyes already on him with a small smile that he can’t return.

“Because if the roles were reversed I wouldn’t want to be alone...no matter what I said.” Samantha stretches her legs out in front of her and shrugs her shoulders. “I might not be able to talk about it, might not be able to understand some of it. It’s not like I was ever a prisoner of war, I don’t get bullets shot at me every other week or have nightmares every other night.” She stands up and walks over to stand across from Bucky’s curled figure, sliding down the side of the dresser across from him. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you go through it alone because when you can’t look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark.”

Bucky clenched his fist, and sucked in a breath, he nodded his head slightly but didn’t look at her as her words settled in his mind and he furrowed his eyebrows. The moon continued to light up the dark room, almost as if it was looking for her as it glowed around her.

“You forget the PTSD,” he muttered.

“What?”

“You listed everything but post traumatic stress disorder. I have that too…”

“Oh I know...I listed things I don’t have in common with you Bucky.” Bucky is shocked for a second. He doesn’t believe it and then he’s telling himself off for assuming and not believing her. Why would she lie to him? She wouldn’t. “I don’t get nightmares like you and only rarely will I get flashbacks,” he watches her twiddle her thumbs and avoid his eye like he had before, eyes drawn to the window and the moon. “But it’s the reason why I prefer elevators to stairs. It’s why I can’t be any higher than the tenth floor of a building without someone with me. Or why my stomach drops when a truck goes past or the wind gets really strong. When before I used to have no problem flying but any sort of turbulence now and my skin crawls and I can’t breathe. It’s a miracle I made it here to be honest,” she breathes out a laugh that sounds more like a huff and leans her chin on her knees and holds out her hand for Bucky.

His position almost mirrors hers if it weren’t for the arm he kept tucked away from her but he reaches out with his flesh hand and their fingers brush against each other, lightly holding onto to one another like a safety net, though not quite sure yet.

“You don’t have to tell-”

“I thought you wanted me to talk?”

“Normally people just tell me it’ll be okay and this will pass, they don’t normally talk about their own traumatic experiences.”

“Hey Bucky...it’ll be okay, this will pass.” Samantha sticks her tongue out slightly and Bucky and he can’t keep the slight smile from breaking out.

The pair sit there together, fingers holding fingers for a few minutes. It’s quiet, peaceful. Bucky’s anxiety has lowered tremendously from where it was when she entered until she holds out her other hand. He gulps down and his fingers twitch against his side. She holds out one finger and slowly Bucky reaches out his metal appendage and his forefinger curls around hers. Bucky doesn’t look at her, his eyes are locked on the mix of metal and flesh even though small. She’s not afraid, not afraid of him, not afraid of what’s going on in his head, not afraid of the damage he’s done or capable of doing.

~~~~~

OKAY So for context, as we know Samantha is a New Zealander but more than that she’s from Christchurch as am I. This time of year is really weird for me and I wanted to put that into this character because it really is a stable part of a person of her (my?) age who grew up in Christchurch. SO this past Saturday was the nine year anniversary of the Christchurch earthquake which literally destroyed my city. And yea, PTSD is a massive thing here because of it even if its undiagnosed or ignored, anxieties run high at this time of year. Some of the stuff she (Samantha) talks about are things that myself and my friends go through and I wanted to shed some light on that and since this series is about enabling me to explore and experiment with characters and styles I figured it was the perfect opportunity. I don’t really know want I’m saying but if you have any questions or want to chat about it then hmu and im more than happy to chat. ANYWAY THANKS FOR READING I APPRECIATE IT GREATLY LOVE YOU ALL BAI

Permanent Taglist (open): @witch-of-letters @tonystankschild @morsmordrethings @buckysdumbmetalarm@marvelsangels @momobaby227 @weirdlyokaywithit @disgustangg @bucky-blogs @sebbbystaaan@geeksareunique @stuckonjbbarnes @ellieslifefails @mushyjellybeans @lovesmesomehiddles @nat-alia-novna @this-kitten-is-smitten @itsunclebucky @kitkatd7

Bucky Taglist (open): @bxrnsfeyson @brilliantbellesoares @supraveng @chubby-dumplin @meganlikesfandoms@mood-pancakes

#kaylins400writingchallenge #kaylin's400writingchallenge

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arcanesupern0va · 5 years

Text

Down With The Rickness; Ch3: Scene Of The Crime

Summary: Vindicators 3: The Return of World Ender? Never heard of him either.

A/N: Thank you for reading this far and thank you so much for your continued support. ♥ So I think the next one is gonna be a Halloween inspired one. I watched a movie last night that I really wanted to just force Rick into so I think that's what's going to happen. Probably won't be anywhere near as oooey gooey as this one was but I can't resist making Rick a goshdang sap because it's my god given right. Hahaha. Be sure to let me know what you think! Unless it's mean and just generally not constructive in which case pls don't because I am soft and my feelings bruise easily.

CW: Thar be Drunk Rick here. And blatant use of an episode. Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 6704

My ao3

Masterlist

~Rick In The Water~

|Ch2: Silhouettes|

Surprisingly, it was a horrid stench that woke me up, along with Morty gently nudging me into consciousness. I groaned, rolling over and bringing the blanket up to cover my nose and save me from the horrendous smell that had permeated the room.

“C-Come on Aunt Nova, we gotta go,” Morty murmured, shaking me again before standing up and moving away from the bed. “Rick, uh- He had one hell of a night last night.”

Whatever I had been imagining didn’t match what I found in the conference room. Rick was splayed out, completely coated with shit and sleeping peacefully despite it. I clasped my hand to my face trying desperately to purge the image from my brain before it made itself at home. I turned to focus on Supernova and Morty, turning my back on Rick completely.

“Good morning. Looks like your boyfriend had a long night,” she remarked. My cheeks burned as I peeked around her despite myself, seeing the full extent Rick’s mess went to. “Crocubot, why don't you escort Mr. Sanchez to a more comfortable spot so that someone can… clean up his diarrhea.”

“Whoa, I'm nervous about my first mission,” Noob Noob declared proudly, entering the conference room toting multiple weapons.

“Actually Noob Noob, you have a new mission,” Supernova told him coldly, flicking her wrist to replace the weapons with a mop.

“Got damn,” he said sadly, resigning himself to his new “mission”.

“Vindicators, prepare for arrival. Worldender dies today, with or without Rick’s help.” She ordered, leading us to the ship we would be descending to Worldender’s hideout planet in.

My head was still reeling as the ship took off from the main ship and soared down to Worldender’s planet. Morty kept me calm, explaining the different Vindicators to me before we were forced to drop down onto the planet from midair. Vance grabbed my waist with a sly grin, pulling me uncomfortably close to him before jumping out of the back and landing safely on the ground below. I pulled away from him quickly, only to be confronted with the pungent smell of burning flesh and rotting corpses as I surveyed my surroundings. Most of the planet seemed to be composed of corpses and bones and it just reinforced my assumption that the vast majority of space was just disgusting. Vance offered me a handkerchief to cover my nose with but I politely declined, not wanting to offer him any more of an ‘in’ than he already thought he had. I used the sleeve of my shirt instead, pressing it against my face hard enough that the skin ached around my nostrils from the pressure.

“A-Aunt Nova, are you okay?” Morty asked, looking up at me with concern plastered all over his face but noticeably unbothered by the smell.

“Y-Yeah,” I coughed, unsurprised the air tasted as bad as it smelled, “how are you so relaxed right now? This place fucking reeks.”

“Oh, Rick implanted me with a scent filter for my nose. There was a planet that smelled like burnt tires and rotten eggs and he got tired of hearing me complain about it,” Morty explained, “Sure, it’s based off Rick’s preferences so I haven’t smelled lavender and sweet pea in over a month but whatever you’re going through looks like it sucks.”

“So you can’t smell anything right now?” I asked, astonished.

“Nope,” he shrugged, “right now all I can smell is your shampoo and Vance’s cologne.”

“Must be fuckin’ nice,” I grumbled, staring at the ground ahead of me as we followed behind Supernova.

Drones approached us at an alarming pace but Supernova made quick work of them using the powers of whatever the “Star Mother” was. We advanced, only to come to a total dead end. This time it was Alan Rails’ turn, somehow creating a train to blast through the wall so we could advance further.

“Is it just me, or are their powers a little… stupid?” I whispered under my breath to Morty, only to earn an annoyed sigh.

“You sound just like Rick. These are actual superheroes, Aunt Nova. Most people just get movies but you’re actually in the presence of people that do everything they can for the better good,” Morty chastised.

“Like, I get that but even you have to admit they’re pretty lame. I mean, sure Supernova uses powers from some ‘Star Mother’ but like, the one guy is literally just an amalgamation of ants? And Alan can just call on the power of trains? Ghost trains? In what way could that possibly be helpful other than complete and utter destruction?”

“You don’t get it-”

“Aah! Gun Turret,” Million Ants interrupted us.

“Are you alright?” Supernova asked, concern flooding her voice.

“Yes. I only lost 400 ants. My queen is laying more,” he assured her as the holes in his chest mended in front of us, “I am back to one million ants,” he announced proudly as a look of relief flashed over Supernova’s features.

“Someone wake up Sanchez,” she demanded, glaring as she watched Crocubot toss Rick gracelessly onto the ground as Vance bent over him.

“H-Hey, wait- What are you doing?” I started nervously, as Vance pointed a finger at his face. Supernova shook her head briskly at me, holding up a hand as the tip of Vance’s finger opened and a blue gas emerged from it.

“Ugh,” Rick groaned, his bloodshot eyes taking in his surroundings as he familiarized himself with his location. “Oh, christ.”

“Oh, good. You’re up,” Supernova remarked sarcastically.

“Barely,” Rick growled, pulling himself to his feet.

“Rick, we're taking fire from an automated turret. Can you bring it offline?”

Rick grunted in response, pulling out a thermos as we watched him mix chemicals to produce a small creature. He held the plump creature over his eyes, squeezing it and relishing in the relief the liquid it produced offered.

“Ahh, that’s better,” he sighed, blinking away the bloodshot in his eye and looking around the room. His eyes fell on me and for a moment, a look of fear passed through them. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Rick!” Supernova shouted, irritated by the delay.

“I can’t help if I can’t see,” Rick shot back, shaking away his concerns for a moment and pulling out a small roving device that scurried over the floor into the line of fire. The top opened to allow a transparent disc to absorb the bullets before it spit out three compact discs that morphed into small robots. They climbed on top of each other, propelling themselves up onto the turret and fixating themselves over the barrel. Rick winked at me before jumping in front of the turrets in a ‘ta-da’ pose and I felt my heart drop as the turrets began shooting. I’ve moved to go after him, to pull him out of what I assumed to be certain doom but he turned to face me, grinning like a madman as the turrets fired until they exploded.

“And that’s how you do it, baby.”

“I could've just used a ghost train,” Alan grumbled, shoving past Rick and continuing through the door.

“Really? You don't say. You would have used a ghost train?” Rick gloated, rolling his eyes as he looked around the room. “H-Hey, everybody, the ghost train guy would have used a ghost train!” The rest of the Vindicator and Morty pushed passed him, mumbling under their breath and shooting looks of disgust and irritation at Rick as they passed.

“Is there coffee?” Rick asked, stopping Morty as he pressed on past his grandfather, the disgust and irritation even more prevalent on his face than the rest of them, “H-Hey, Morty, can you be a pal? Grandpa left his coffee maker on the ship. Y-You know, the French press thing?”

“Get it yourself,” Morty shot back, going around his grandfather to follow the rest of the team. As I passed him, that same look of fear covered his face as he looked me over, making sure I was okay. Once he seemed satisfied, he turned away to follow the group silently. We navigated the halls to Worldender’s lair in silence, Rick focusing in on Morty to avoid having to face me.

“You’re sni-uuuuurp-ppy this morning,” Rick remarked, following closely behind Morty while also keeping a watchful eye on my progress behind him.

“Just focus on the mission, alright,” Morty snapped, not interested in anything his grandfather had to say at this point.

“Oh, oh, oh, I'm sorry. Oh, you're right. Ooh, real serious. Gotta take it real serious, huh?” Rick said mockingly, glaring at the back of the Vindicator’s heads.

“Rick…” I called out gently, trying to relieve Morty of the punishment of dealing with his hungover grandfather. Rick turned to face me finally, a bit too eagerly for his liking it seemed as he groaned and stopped in his tracks to wait for me to catch up.

“H-Hey, Nova,” he grumbled as I caught up, “You shouldn’t have come.”

“And what, miss out on all the fun?” I chuckled. “Seems like you’ve had one hell of a night.” I watched him carefully, trying to ignore the part of me that was simply relieved that he was awake.

“Yeah, I got, uh, upset,” he shrugged, sidestepping a corpse as we entered a large room.

“I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” he said, cutting me off. “What are you even doing here? You know this is supposed to be incredibly dangerous right?”

“I figured you’d be here,” I shrugged, holding my arm against me and rubbing it.

“Jesus,” Rick muttered, shaking his head.

“Son of a steam engine! They're all dead!” Alan interrupted before Rick could say anything else. I took the room in only to find it littered with corpses, posed in various sex positions.

“Why would Worldender do this to his own men... and several women?” Crocubot asked, confusion leaking into his robotic tone.

“Well, he is the Worldender. The guy ends worlds. Kind of his thing,” Vance said, rolling his eyes. Rick kept moving forward, not interested in the massacre only to step on a hidden panel on the floor. A large hook bearing a corpse swung down from the ceiling in front of us, leaving Vance to cry out in horror, “What the fuck?!”

“It’s Worldender!” Supernova exclaimed, “What happened to him?” Worldender let out a weak moan, alerting us that he was still alive. I stared in horror as the monster on the hook gurgled in agony at us, unable to form any true speech.

“I sense his life force is fading,” Million Ants remarked, moving closer to take a better look.

“Million Ants, ladies and gentlemen! The ant colony with the power of two human eyes!” Rick snarled, unable to help himself. Worldender sputtered some more before an organ flew out of his mouth. “All right. Short mission, good mission. Remember when Alan wanted to use a ghost train? See you guys in Vindicators 4. Morty, Nova?”

“Rick, whoever did this is an even bigger threat than Worldender! We can't leave now!” Morty exclaimed nervously, looking to me for assistance.

“He's right. This is far from over,” Supernova insisted, hovering over to Rick.

“Well, have fun with that. But we have a comet girl, a monorail man, two assholes, and a full alligator to meet in, like, an hour,” Rick dismissed her, ready to head back through the door to the lair. As he turned to leave, however, a large shutter descended in front of him. It missed him by a hair as all of the exits sealed up immediately and left only one remaining door. The Vindicators and Morty prepared themselves for a fight but Rick grabbed my arm and dug into his lab coat for his portal gun, only to come up empty.

“Shit,” I murmured, the real terror of the situation descending on me quickly, realizing whatever had locked us in here truly had us stuck and Rick didn’t have a way out.

“I sense the presence of a greater evil,” Million Ants remarked looking around the room as if whatever it was would pop out at us immediately at his revelations. A large monitor descended from the ceiling, much to my surprise and it immediately cut to a video of a very drunk Rick.

“Check, check, One, two. Okay, is it recording? Good. Hello, Vindicators. Welcome to your reckoning, babyyyyy,” Drunk Rick held the last word out as we all turned to look at him.

“Well, it's official. I had too much to drink last night,” Rick remarked sheepishly, not quite meeting my eye.

“Rick, what did you do?” I asked nervously, my eyes darting around every corner.

“To be honest with you, I don’t really remember,” Rick admitted quietly, his eyes still trained on the monitor.

“ If you guys are watching this, you're, you know, the Vindicators,” Drunk Rick slurred, adjusting the camera to assure he was in the frame.

“R-Rick… buddy…” Vance started, training one of his wrist-mounted pistols on Rick as he looked him up and down cautiously, “What’s, uh, what’s going on?”

“Obviously, I came here last night during a blackout,” Rick told him flatly, gesturing up at the screen.

“Obviously?” Supernova demanded, exasperated, “You came here and defeated our arch-nemesis while so drunk, you don't remember doing it? That's something ‘obvious’ to you?”

“Look, I'm a lit-little more complex than you guys and, no offense, but I've always suspected that a lot of what you do in a year could be knocked out in a couple of hours,” Rick replied nonchalantly. Supernova opened her mouth to speak again but instead trained her attention on the screen.

“...So I thought, why not just do your job for you so we can have a little fun game,” Drunk Rick mumbled, pointing to the left where a spotlight flashed on and illuminated a large board with each of the Vindicators on it along with a defining trait for each of them.

“Rick, what did you do?” I demanded again, eyeing him nervously myself now.

“Is this a ‘Saw’ thing?” Morty asked angrily, moving closer to the board to investigate closer, “Are you ‘Saw’-ing the Vindicators?”

“I’m a drunk Morty, not a hack,” Rick snapped, looking around the room nervously.

“I certainly hope you idiots didn’t bring Nova with you because if you break the rules, lose the game or try to leave, you will die. Like in *uuuuurp* ‘Saw’,” Drunk Rick finished clumsily. Rick’s eyes met mine nervously and my mouth went dry.

“Well, I-I-I think we've seen enough. I'll just figure out how to unplug this,” Rick hurried off quickly looking for a plug while the rest of us stared up at the screen as Drunk Rick continued his tirade.

“Okay, here we go, room number one. The Vindicators are known throughout the galaxy, but do they know yourselves? Do you know yourselves? Match your... your shit, your... your gimmicks with your faces and y-you get it, it's a matching thing. And do it in three minutes, or you'll *uuurp* all die.”

“Screw this, I’m not playing his game,” Vance declared. “I'm gonna find us a way out of here.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on, Vance. He said we'd die if you tried to leave,” Rick reasoned, stepping in front of Vance, “I really don’t give a fuck about you but I can’t let Nova die, why in the hell did you assholes let her come again?”

“I informed her of the risks yesterday, she seemed assured that you would keep her safe,” Supernova told him coolly, much to his irritation.

“Th-this guy probably knew she’d be too stubborn to listen to any of you assholes so here’s hoping he didn’t go too crazy with the booby traps.” Rick was trying to convince himself as well as the rest of us as paced back and forth.

“Why are you acting like that's not you?!” Vance demanded hysterically.

“What part of ‘blackout’ don't you understand? I thought you drank?” Rick snarled, looking up from the floor.

“Like cool drinking! Like sexy drinking, not this psycho trailer-park shit!” he bellowed, looking around the room for some kind of reassurance that he was in fact not the crazy one.

“Vance, stay calm…” Morty said cautiously, bringing Vance’s wrath down on him instead.

“Oh, so you're the leader now because we gave you a jacket?! You're the learning-disabled kid we do photo-ops with!” Vance reamed Morty, his breathing quickening with every syllable. I moved to step in, to defend my godson against the sudden onslaught from his heroes when he shook his head at me quickly and swallowed his hurt.

“Okay, ouch, but-”

Vance began hyperventilating fully again, fanning his face against the red that was inching its way up from his collar. “Okay, this... this is triggering me. I need space. I-I need SPACE! FROM THIS!”

Before anyone could stop him, Vance engaged his rocket propellers after eyeing a conveniently placed vent in the ceiling. He shot his way up to it, ripping away the grate and flying into it. Sounds of saws and gunshots echoed as we could do nothing but watch as Vance’s legs contorted in agony before plummeting back down and landing in front of us. We stared in abject horror as one of the rocket boots kicked back to life and started flying around the room leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

“I really wish I could say I was sorry about that one,” I murmured numbly, staring at the rocketing foot until Crobubot finally took aim and shot it out of the air. “What the fuck is going on right now?”

“H-Hey, Nova,” Rick started, moving closer in an attempt to comfort me but I winced away from his touch, “it’s gonna be okay, I’m not going to let-”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn't crush your windpipe!” Alan interrupted, grabbing Rick by the throat and holding him against the wall.

“Wait, no!” I grabbed Alan’s arm, trying my hardest to pull him away from Rick. I may not be able to reconcile all of this away right now, but I still couldn’t bear to watch him hurt. Alan looked over his shoulder for a moment, pushing me down to the ground with a malicious glint in his eye that was all too familiar before returning his attention to Rick.

“Because my epidermis is laced with a nanofiber defense mesh,” Rick answered coldly, strange electricity covering his body before Alan was launched back away from him. “And because, like I said, I don't remember last night.”

“I told you not to invite this mummified motherfucker back!” Alan bellowed from the ground, shooting a dirty look over his shoulder at Supernova.

“Alan, I'm not proud of what's happening here, but if you keep coming at me or if you touch another hair on Nova’s head, there's gonna be another passenger on that ghost train,” Rick snarled, taking a step toward him and leaning down to really drive his point home.

“Guys!” Morty called over to us, “I figured it out.” While Rick and Alan had been fighting, Morty had taken to solve the puzzle Rick had set up for the Vindicators. “I figured I didn’t want to die so I better actually figure this shit out before this asshole gets us killed.”

“Congrats! You did i-uuuurp-it!” Drunk Rick slurred proudly when the monitor flashed back on. The door opened, revealing our path forward.

“It was a bit. All of the descriptors apply to all of you,” I murmured, reading the descriptors and matching them up to what little Morty had told me about the Vindicators, “Drunk Rick's point is that none of you are very special or different.”

“That's always his point,” Morty affirmed, despondent.

“Let's just get through this as quickly as possible. Then, we'll deal with the three of you,” Supernova said contemptuously, hovering past Rick and me.

“Th-Three of us?” Morty exclaimed, looking heartbroken before he turned his ire to Rick, “I hope you're proud of yourself!”

“Uh, I kind of am. I saved the goddamn universe.”

“That's not the issue, Rick!”

“Ahh, it would've been if I hadn't.”

*+*

We made our way through the next room, losing Crobubot in the process. Drunk Rick appeared on another monitor again, this time sporting a deerstalker cap and presenting a large map for the puzzle of the room. Crobubot’s confidence had chosen to reveal even more questionable backstory about the Vindicators from when Rick hadn’t been with them. This time it was concerning an entire planet they had to destroy because they couldn’t locate their target at the time, something called Doomnomitron. I was stuck watching in real-time as glimmers of hope and respect Morty held for the team started to rapidly deteriorate. Rick pointed out that he could’ve just created a device to seek out Doomnomitron but apparently it had been Alan’s call not to call Rick back.

Morty solved the puzzle yet again and the in-fighting only worsened as we made our way into the next room. This time Drunk Rick was wearing one of my old Hawaiian t-shirts, holding up a coconut filled with more booze.

“Aloha... means hello and goodbye in Hawaii. But, uh, aloha means... has nothing to do with this room,” Drunk Rick sputtered as his head rolled around loosely on his shoulders. “I'm so fucking drunk. Nova’s going to be so mad at me in the morning. Jesus Christ, she better not be in here with you.” Rick’s eyes met mine, unspoken apologies and frustration boiling over. “Ugh, okay, here's the deal. I-I want to rest my eyes for a little bit. I'm--I'm not going to sleep. I just... just need to rest my eyes, so let's make this one simple. Just try to hit some three-pointers.” Lights came on to light up a basketball hoop and a small bomb rigged to blow. “Let's say... you have to hit... five three-pointers in... five minutes or, I don't know, the whole place--the whole planet will get blown up with a n-neutrino bomb. And try to make it a-a lesson about yourselves like, like how... selfish you a-are, or something. Also, Hawaii,” he rambled, his head resting on the desk for a moment. This time, however, the video didn’t cut out and just continued playing as Drunk Rick struggled to keep the contents of his stomach within.

“Jesus Christ,” Rick murmured, staring at himself on the screen before Morty grabbed his arm and dragged him over the neutrino bomb.

“M-Maybe I should take N-Nova to Hawaii,” Drunk Rick mused, stifling down the urge to vomit as he rolled his head back and forth on his workbench, “She thinks I hate her… The fuck is she thinking? I can’t even get up in the morning without thinking about her.”

“O-Oh,” I blurted out, my eyes glued to the screen as Million Ants and Supernova made quick work of the Three Pointer Challenge and Alan Rails started accusing them of some alleged infidelity. Rick’s eyes were still trained on me, however, much to Morty’s chagrin as he continued disarming the bomb without Rick’s help.

“I mean, s-she’s not the brightest when it comes to my work but sh-she’s just brings me so much peace. Like a stupid amount of peace that I don’t deserve,” Drunk Rick continued almost incoherently, “She doesn’t expect me to be the s-smartest guy in the room and sh-she’s never wanted me to solve all of her p-problems even though I’ve tried like hell and p-p-put more effort into her problems - oh, fuck I’m gonna puke - th-than I’ve put into anything else in my life. I-I-I don’t know, sh-she’s just so-so-so special to me. And sh-she keeps asking me what’s wrong and I-I-I don’t know how to explain it to her. I-I-I can’t get drunk and tell her, I mean look what do when I’m just mildly irritated with Morty,” he rambled. I couldn’t stop the watery giggle from falling out of my mouth as my eyes flicked to Rick again. He and Morty were struggling with the drunkenly improvised bomb but my small outburst didn’t go unnoticed by Supernova behind us.

“Something funny to you, girl?” she hissed, her voice wavering. I tore my eyes away from the screen to find Alan, well, everywhere. While I had been enraptured in the drunken ramblings of the emotionally closed-off man I’d fallen in love with, Supernova’s affair with Million Ants had come out into the open. The fight had turned deadly when Supernova had confirmed Million Ants’ superiority in the bedroom, leaving the sentient ant colony to defend the woman he loved. The fight ended when Million Ants possessed the Ghost Train Conductor or whatever the hell he was and exploded him from within, surprisingly killing the “undead” man.

“I-I-I wasn’t- I-I-I didn’t,” I stammered as she descended towards me at an alarming pace.

“You think you can just wander through here while all of my friends are killed at the hands of your… boyfriend,” she spat the word out as though it left a disgusting film in her mouth. “Who’s to say you deserve to live when my team has reduced to shambles.”

“You touch her and what happened to your friends will seem like a day in the park after I’m done with you,” Rick threatened lazily, barely looking up from the bomb as Supernova drew closer.

“Rick!” I squeaked, trembling as the cosmic grew closer, the energy from her righteous anger pulsing around her.

“She’s not going to do shit,” Rick said dismissively, focusing in on the bomb as Morty’s attention was drawn away. “There we go. Disarmed.”

“Y-You’re supposed to be heroes!” Morty bellowed, standing up to face the cosmic atom bomb in front of me. “She hasn’t done anything to you! Leave her alone!”

“Morty- Don’t,” I urged him, as he moved closer to the ticking time bomb in front of me. His words seemed to have an effect, however, and the pulsing around Supernova shrunk as she stood down.

“You will all pay for Rick’s crimes,” she declared coldly. With a flick of her wrist, cuffs appeared around our wrists. “I don’t want you three disappearing once this is over, all of these deaths are on your hands.”

“Oh, come on, maybe a couple of them, but definitely not the train guy,” Rick scoffed, quickly searching the black bands around his wrists for a way out but coming up empty.

“All of them,” Supernova hissed, launching one of the planets hovering around her into Rick’s groin. I moved to rush to his side, only to be launched away from him with another of her planets. “Not so fast. Rick won’t leave you behind, judging by his drunken ramblings, so you’re what I like to call… insurance.” Million Ants made the final three-pointer, allowing the door to open to one final room. It was a simple room, only a small pedestal sitting in the middle of it.

“All right, by now, I've been pretty clear that I think the Vindicators are full of shit,” Drunk Rick slurred on the monitor, taking a bite out of his piece of pizza, “But... you do have one thing I'll never have and probably another that I probably won’t have much longer. The first is the only part of the Vindicators that has any value to me and the second the most amazing thing in the room, besides me. So if you know what they are, place them on the platform. Guess wrong and the pla-planet will explode. And probably the solar system, 'cause I kind of fucking eyeballed the neutrino bombs on this one.”

“So what's the trick? Morty, you're the Drunk Rick expert,” Supernova asked callously, looking between Morty and me.

“I think for the first one... no matter what we put on there, we die. He said it's the part of the Vindicators he values. That means nothing. He wants our last moment alive to be spent knowing how few fucks he gave.”

“Jesus! Okay, open to second opinions!” Supernova glared, looking around at each of us.

“I-It could be Morty,” Rick admitted reluctantly.

“What?!”

“Hey, I don't know,” he shrugged. “I mean, look, when I get drunk, I get stupid and emotional and there's no logic to it. We all heard all that shit from the last room. It's, like, possible I got so drunk, I felt like I was losing Morty to the Vindicators, and maybe this is my way of saying ‘Okay, you can have him, but only if you know how important he is, otherwise I'll kill you.’”

“That is a... really specific guess,” Million Ants remarked.

“Look, I... there's nothing in the room but us. I'm just using logic to connect some dots. It's the best guess I've got.”

“But you're betting our lives on it,” Supernova said accusingly.

“I'll cover that bet. I get it,” Morty said smugly, heading for the platform.

“Wait, Morty, I think you're making that smirky face because you're misinterpreting the moment,” Rick said urgently, “I am not being coy about some hidden love for you. I want to be really clear that, if anyone has a better guess, like, if I gave you an amulet last night, or-” A loud ding rang out and everyone let out a sigh of relief before a chair shot up and scooped up Morty.

“Oh, shit,” Rick swore, staring at the now-empty platform.

“Alright. The second one?” Drunk Rick demanded expectantly.

“Well, go ahead, Nova.” Rick nodded at the platform in frustration.

“M-Me?” I stuttered. “I just watched that thing eat Morty. I don’t think I’m in a hurry to hop on up.”

“Look, he said the most amazing thing in the room. It’s definitely none of these assholes. Do you really think I’m going to hurt you, drunk or not?” Rick said flatly. I walked up to the platform hesitantly, glancing at Rick one last time before another seat appeared, dropping me into a cardboard Tunnel of Love.

“Jesus Nova, couldn’t just stay out of the line of fire could you,” Drunk Rick chuckled, twisting his hands over as I floated down the long tunnel. “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick and I’m really sorry you had to go through all of these hacky shenanigans to prove my point to the Vindicators and Morty. I brought you down here because I just didn’t know how to tell you how much I was struggling with all of this. Watching you hurting- Seeing you walk out into that lake and not come back up. Jesus Nova, you know you’re everything to me, right?” His voice cracked and the tears welled in my eyes instantly. “It’s not like I can’t relate though, believe me. When I came back, it was just to give Beth some closure before I killed myself but when I saw you- when I saw the way you looked at me, something changed in me. For once, I can’t explain it.

“I’m sorry for leaving you with these assholes too, by the way. I thought you were going to come with me like you usually do and when you didn’t I just- I don’t know, I took it personally I guess. I got about twenty minutes away before I shut my damn ego up and flew back.” The cart pulled up to the final monitor and much to my surprise, Drunk Rick was crying. “I can’t do this without you, Nova. Please, despite all of the logic in your brain, please don’t give up on me.” I bit my lip, fighting back tears as I stared at the broken man on the screen in front of me. “So just, you know, think about it okay? Whatever you want, I’ll accept but I don’t want to lose you. I’m sorry I couldn’t just say this to your face. I’m just… so sorry. Alright Nova, I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later.” The cart sped back up the track and soon I was being raised back up through the platform. Morty looked less than amused standing next to his grandfather but I started to rush into his arms, only for one of Supernova’s planets to launch me back to her side.

“Not so fast, girl,” she hissed. The room shuddered and the entire platform began rising from under us.

“I sense this means we’re not dying,” Million Ants said, surveying the room.

“Not all of us,” Supernova said darkly, using her telekinesis to hold Rick, Morty and I up by our throats.

“Sweetheart…” Million Ants started gently, moving toward Supernova.

“Just let Titty-Bean do this, Snuzzles. It's for the greater good,” she replied irritably.

“Titty-Bean?--”

“Greater Good?--” we sputtered under her force-grasp that grew tighter with each movement.

“It's like you said, Morty: there's no right or wrong,” Supernova hissed, hovering closer to Morty.

“Never said that!”

“It's the galaxy's faith in the Vindicators that keeps the galaxy secure!”

“Yeah, I feel safer already,” Rick muttered sarcastically.

“No doubt. Who do we make the check out to?” I replied, meeting his gaze for a moment.

“Titty-Bean, listen to me. When you came to me, I was merely a sentient colony of ants. It was your beliefs, your pursuit of justice, that taught me to be a man,” Million Ants said soothingly, pulling her closer to him. We fell to the ground, sputtering for air as Supernova became distracted with Million Ants. Rick pulled me into his arms, desperately clinging to me for dear life as he patted my hair down.

“When did it get so complicated?” she asked mournfully, nuzzling into his hand.

“Who knows? But we can make it simple again.”

“You were always the romantic,” she remarked sadly before taking a step back from him, her eyes narrowed. “Which is why you can't leave either.” We watched in horror as she dug her hand into his chest and extracted his Queen Ant, crushing it in her palm. “Goodbye, my love.”

“Damn! She double-crossed Snuzzles!” Rick exclaimed, pulling away from me momentarily as she descended upon us.

“Silence! I'm going to enjoy this,” she hissed, raising her hands in front of her. As I buried my face into Rick’s chest, airhorns interrupted her attack as the platform finally reached its destination.

“Let's give a huge thanks to Rick Sanchez for killing Worldender, putting this awesome party together, and for booking one of the hottest talents out there: Logic!” an announcer called out and a spotlight descended upon us. Supernova lowered her hands, realizing the sheer volume of witnesses surrounding her.

“Look at that. Geez, I must've planned a whole party. Invited a bunch of people. Not bad, Drunk Rick, not bad,” Rick said, pulling himself to his feet before extending a hand out to me and pulling me to my feet. As Logic started a song about the Vindicators, Supernova slipped into the crowd, much to Morty’ dismay.

“Rick! Supernova’s getting away!” he shouted, pointing at the section she disappeared into.

“Oh well,” Rick shrugged, dancing along to the song.

“But… she was trying to kill us!” Morty retorted.

“Morty, twenty people try to kill me every week. I end up getting high with half of 'em,” Rick assured him flatly. “J-J-Just enjoy the festival, alright? I’ll worry about her later.”

It looked like just about everyone had gotten an invite as Beth, Summer, and Madi squeezed through the crowd over to us. I hugged Madi tightly before Summer pulled her into the crowd to introduce her to some of the friends she’d made adventuring with Rick.

“So, I’ll just assume nothing is going to happen to her here?” I asked Rick nervously, watching her hair bounced as Summer pulled her behind.

“Look, I invited Beth to this, she should be safe.” I narrowed my eyes at him, unconvinced but he just groaned, grabbing my hand. “Come on, let’s party.”

*+*

When we finally got home, the exhaustion from being in a life or death situation hit me like a truck. The moment I fell into my bed, I was out like a light. When I finally woke back up a day later, I was surprised to find Rick sprawled out next to me, sleeping peacefully with his arm draped over me. I carefully extracted myself from underneath him and made my way to the bathroom, desperate for a shower. As I opened my door, I found Morty headed in the same direction.

“O-O-Oh, hey Aunt Nova,” he mumbled, his eyes trained on the ground in front of him. “W-Were going to take a shower?”

“Y-Yeah, but you go ahead. I waited this long, I can wait a little bit longer,” I assured him, moving to head back into my room.

“I-I-I heard what Rick said, in the Hawaii room,” he said quickly, grabbing my wrist. “I’m not saying I was wrong about him, but I get what you see in him, I guess. A-A-And, I guess how he feels about you too? He’s still a dick and piece of shit a-a-and you deserve better but-”

“It’s okay Morty, I understand,” I assured him quickly. He looked relieved, waving as he headed for the bathroom. I went back into my room to find Rick stirring, sitting up and rubbing his eyes as he looked up at me.

“I was starting to think you were in a fucking coma, you know,” he yawned at me.

“I don’t know, something about almost dying just makes me really tired, not sure what that’s all about,” I shrugged sarcastically. “Speaking of which, we should probably talk about all of that.”

“Yeah, I get a little… dramatic when I drink. Sorry about that,” he groaned, standing up and stretching.

“Well, yeah. That was something else, but I’m talking about what happened when I got up on the platform,” I said cautiously, watching his face for a reaction.

“What about it? I don’t remember anything from that night? I probably just called you like, super pretty for five minutes,” he said defensively. “Did I say something fucked up? Morty was not happy with me after coming out of his.”

“N-No, not quite,” I chuckled. “No, it was more along the lines of you being worried I was going to leave you or whatever. You know that’s never going to happen, right? A lot of bad shit has happened since you’ve been back. I’ve been kidnapped, you killed my husband and maybe even my parents but you haven’t fucked up nearly as bad as you may think you have. I probably wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you.”

“Well, I mean, if that Rick was going to come kidnap you then you would probably just be stuck living on the Citadel and hella fucking confused,” Rick argued awkwardly.

“So not the point,” I groaned, rolling my eyes at him. “Look, all I’m trying to say is you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere. Effectively, you’re stuck with me.”

“Are you okay? With everything that happened?” he asked hesitantly. “Being with me, it’s not a normal life and it never will be.”

“Rick, not to sound cliche but my life has literally never been normal. As long as you bring me home now and then so I can see Madi, I could literally care less. Just don’t leave me, okay?”

“Nova, I told you already, I don’t think that’s possible,” he assured me. “Even that twenty minutes I left you with the Vindicators and Morty was hell. I tried to get back as soon as I could but by the time I got back, you guys were gone.”

“Look, I get it. I’m not going to say it was okay because it wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination but I get it,” I reasoned. “I was drunk and being a dick.”

“Welcome to the club, sweetheart,” Rick laughed, holding his flask up in solidarity. “We’re gonna be okay, right?”

“Oh, I hope not. Putting my neck on the line all the time is half the fun of being with you.”

“I love you too, brat.”

+Ch4: Every You, Every Me+

#rick and morty #rick x reader #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez x reader #Rick Sanchez/reader

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