#[ but just the gradual realization of the weight on his shoulders after he gets his coat

[moonstruckme]

Hi!! Could you please write something for Spencer where r is used to men being like really loud and rough and all that (maybe bc of her father or smth) and just her getting used to how gentle Spencer is and almost thinking it’s too good to be true?

Thank you for requesting angel <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 905 words

It happens when you’re still half asleep. You fumble for your phone on Spencer’s nightstand, your alarm chiming, and knock a picture frame off instead. You’re fully awake by the time you hear the sound of glass shattering against the floor. 

You mumble a curse. Spencer hums questioningly into his pillow. 

You get down from the bed, managing to step over the glass, but you’re not thinking clearly enough. When you sink onto your knees, little shards prick the skin. You pick the frame up carefully. It’s a picture of Spencer and his mom. An old one, of her chasing a three or four-year-old Spencer around someone’s yard. They’re both laughing, her arms outstretched towards him and his face turning to look over his shoulder. It’s obviously a sentimental photo. 

Your cursing intensifies, though you keep it internal now. You feel awful. 

Spencer’s head appears over the edge of the bed as you’re scraping the glass into a pile. His eyes are half-open, expression still weighted with drowsiness. 

“What happened?” he asks. 

There’s no accusation in his tone, but you feel suddenly teary. You haven’t fought with Spencer yet, and you weren’t expecting to be yelled at first thing this morning. You suppose you’ve earned it, though. 

“Spence, I’m so sorry.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I—I knocked over your picture. The frame broke. I feel awful, I’ll get you a new one o—or I can replace the glass if the frame is important to you.” 

“What?” Spencer blinks, brows furrowed as though he’s having trouble grasping this. “No, it’s—stop. Don’t do that.” 

You still, looking up at him hesitantly with your hands cupped around the glass pile. “What do you want me to do?” 

“You can’t clean glass up with your hands.” He shuffles his way out from under the covers, taking a big step over the class to stand behind you. His hands wrap around your elbows. “Get away from there.” 

His tone conveys some upset, but not nearly as much as you were prepared for. And his grip on your arms is gentle. You can’t make sense of it. 

You let him guide you into the bathroom, sitting up on the counter when he prompts you. Spencer takes your hands in his, looking them over and brushing his fingers lightly across your palms before determining there’s no glass in them. His eyes skim you over. When they land on your knees, his expression pinches. 

“Why did you do this?” You expect him to grasp your knee roughly, but his fingers wrap around it with care, thumb rubbing over the soft underside as though to soothe you. 

“I wasn’t thinking,” you say softly. “I feel so bad about the picture with your mom, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Spencer sounds surprised. His eyes flit up to yours, soft brown, curious. “I can get a new frame. You didn’t need to hurt yourself.” 

“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose.” Your voice drops to a murmur as Spencer bends down, opening a drawer to take out first aid supplies. 

He pulls each tiny piece of glass from your knees with heart-aching care. One hand stays on the back of whichever knee he’s working on, to steady him and to comfort you, and it’s a slow, attentive, tender process. Gradually, a realization seeps into you. 

Spencer isn’t going to blow up at you. Maybe someday, but not about this, not over just anything. You’re not sure how you could have been so expectant of someone who’s been nothing but kind and gentle with you turning harsh and forceful at the first upset. 

You don’t even wince as Spencer cleans up your knees. He’s careful to give you no reason to, every touch considerate and sweet. He straightens after smoothing bandages over the cuts, still holding your lower thighs in his hands. 

“That wasn’t a very nice way to wake up,” he says. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, but you hold your arms out for a hug anyway. 

Spencer’s happy to oblige you, his hips fitting between your legs and palms sliding across your back. He smells like sleep. You hook your chin over his shoulder, contentment filling your belly like warm honey. 

“You seemed upset,” he murmurs, a question if you choose to answer it. 

“I was nervous,” you admit. “I thought you’d be mad.” 

“For knocking the frame over?”

“Mhm. I still feel really bad.” 

Spencer draws a line between your shoulders. “Don’t feel bad. You didn’t do it on purpose.” 

You hum. “You’re a lot less loud than most guys, do you know that?” 

He pauses. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” You pull away from him, cradling his face in your hand. “I’m just not used to it, is all. I keep expecting you to yell at me, but that doesn’t seem like it’s really your thing.” 

“I guess I don’t think of it as my thing,” Spencer agrees, mouth curving as he repeats your words. “My mom says I was always a quiet kid. I guess I just never thought yelling would get me anywhere.” 

“Don’t start.” You grin, and his cheek dimples under your palm. “I like you like this.” 

“Okay, I’ll try not to.” He tilts his face into your touch. His hands drop back to your knees, skimming down the unharmed sides next to the bandages. “And you shouldn’t get angry at yourself on my behalf anymore, either.”

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook’s new lip piercing makes you want to cry, and he can’t live without you.

> established relationship, fluff / word count: 1.4k

> warnings: mention of or*l (f. receiving)

> in which masterlist!

note: heh surprise :D my impulsive, jungkook lover brain couldn’t resist so here’s a little something 🥲

—

“why are you looking at me like that?” jungkook nervously asks as the excited beam lighting him up gradually fades. “do you not like it?”

you remain speechless with an unreadable expression written on your face. dumbly staring at the lower right corner of his lips, it is adorned with yet another piercing that makes your boyfriend appear more enchantingly attractive in your eyes — which are, by the way, currently blurry and dazed. your brain is still fuzzy around the edges, short circuiting the longer you observe the silver stud.

it infuriates you, almost, how he still manages to effortlessly drive you crazier for him five years later.

it’s extremely rare for you to fall asleep before 10pm, and to be frank, you hate him for waking you up because you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep until 3am no matter how tired you are. and you’re still not quite certain if you’ve already registered that your consciousness has been rudely pulled back into reality; because then again, you’ve always been obsessed with his lip ring, maybe unhealthily so, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that you’d dream of him surprising you with a new piercing just beside it.

however, there is a particular reason that holds you back from strongly wishing for that to come true.

“but you loved the ring, even the eyebrow ones… did i pick an ugly placement this time?” he wonders out loud with a frown, confused that his surprise didn’t receive the type of reaction he expected.

when he tries hard enough, he can picture them vivid enough to draw from memory… your eyes glittering with awe and adoration each time he presented himself with a new piercing or tattoo. you, showering him with love and praises that erased every ounce of anxiety he had about his life-altering decisions that usually came in the aftermath. what others would call impulsiveness, you named his fearless self-expression.

“ow- ouch- baby! what the hell? what was that for?”

with doe eyes struck by headlights, he gapes at you in surprise as he rubs his poor shoulder that was slapped without warning.

“why did you get it there? we’re not allowed to make out again until it’s healed!” you pettily complain with a drawn-out whine, knees bumping against his thighs as you bounce your crossed legs in bitter vexation.

“oh, shit.”

in real time, you witness the realization comically dawn on jungkook’s face, flabbergasted that in the thick haze of his excitement, he forgot about this excruciating restriction during the extended healing process. in his defense, it’s been forever since he got his first lip piercing.

oh, he’s in so much trouble.

he stares back at you, frozen and unblinking as he slowly speaks with a guilty wince. “ahh, you’re right… i must be out of my mind… i can’t eat you out, too… fuck, how did i survive this back then?”

the genuine innocence lacing his voice only fuels your urge to curl into a ball and cry in frustration. yearning for his touch while he’s not physically present is one thing, but this is much, much worse.

“stop talking.” you glare at him, angry eyebrows contrasting the puffiness of your face caused by sleep.

“you’re so adorable.” the endearing sight elicits a breathy chuckle from him, followed by a small whimper triggered by the pain that spreads on the lower part of his face immediately after. he brushes it off without care, muttering quietly- “come here.”

he carefully guides you to sit on his lap, sinking further into the soft mattress with your weight added on top of him. and for tonight, you allow him to manhandle you as he likes, not having the energy to jokingly pretend to argue with him. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, only realizing how much you’ve missed him now that you’re skin-to-skin.

“don’t be upset, baby. i’m sorry.” he sweetly coaxes you into a better mood. “i will make it up to you after. i promise. i always do, right?”

with drowsy eyes still trained on the new jewelry that shines from the light of the night lamp, you sniffle and pout at him.

“and we can still do this, remember?”

the world becomes still and quiet, and the oxygen gets trapped in your lungs when jungkook holds your face in between his warm hands, crossing the short distance between you. your eyelids slowly flutter shut, lashes kissing your cheeks as his lips softly brush against yours. languid and tender, slightly sticky from your sleeping mask that smells like candy. he ends the blissful moment too soon with a gentle pucker of his lips, leaving you with a simple peck that will haunt your mind for the weeks to come, as if you’re a teenager who just had their first kiss in the middle of the dance floor.

“hmm, see, baby? not bad?” he says quietly, pads of his thumbs tenderly stroking the apple of your cheeks.

jungkook is too persuasive for his own good. the memories of you suffering last time are clouded with the new sweet memory he just orchestrated, and you’re almost convinced that it truly might not be that bad after all.

“but we need to be veeery careful like that for now, understand? so it’ll stop hurting and heal fast.”

and just like that, you’re a little more awake.

“does it hurt a lot? did you bleed a lot?”

hearing him say that he’s in pain made you worriedly react within a split second. his heart melts, and then breaks into two as he gathers all the self-control in his body not to pepper your face with kisses like he usually does.

“the piercer was good and quick, i didn’t feel a thing. but i’m definitely feeling something now.” he shakes his head, uttering the last sentence humorously.

“of course, it hurts now. you won’t stop moving… let me see.” you scold him with a roll of your eyes, slightly turning his head by the back of his ear to have a better view of the swollen flesh around the piercing.

“how is it doing?” he inquires after a few beats, curious and impatient with your silence.

and that’s when he sees that look on your face, the glittering eyes he was anticipating to meet since he finished his appointment the morning before. you grin from ear to ear, scrunching your nose cutely before giggles bubble from your chest. sheepish with your transparent delight, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, tickling him with your every exhale.

“my boyfriend is so cool, and so handsome. i’m so lucky and proud.”

that’s him. that could only be him.

jungkook, despite being elated by the compliments, can only muster a small shy smile. he carresses your hair lovingly, securing his tattooed arm around you as you threaten to slip off from his lap.

“really?”

“hm, i like it. so much…” you hum, planting a chaste kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck. “you’re always putting me through this, making me want to kiss you more all the time. this is so unfair.”

“baby, please. behave for me?” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s in unmaginable pain. in his dramatic mind, currently flooded with love chemicals, he is. “if you keep talking like that, i will really end up risking an infection.”

you lift up your head to show him a grimace of disgust. “ew, pull it together. i wouldn’t want to kiss you with that.”

“tsk, you’re such a brat.” he calls you out with a pointed look, lightly smacking your thigh, revealed by your shorts that has further ridden up, before kneading the soft flesh under his large palm to soothe it.

you teasingly stick out your tongue in response, breaking out into laughter. and not so subtly, you squeeze your thighs together, grasping his wrist in a futile attempt to control the frenzied butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“have you cleaned it?”

“not yet.”

“then let’s do it. i’ll help you.” you climb off his lap as you eagerly tug at his arm, planting your feet firmly on the ground. “love, hurry- hurry. i want to see it in better lighting.”

exhausted after an eventful day, jungkook limply flops down, occupying the side of the bed that you’ve kindly warmed up. “you can go ahead. i’ll follow you after five minutes.”

“ugh, no, you won’t. you’ll fall asleep if you keep your eyes closed for another thirty seconds, and then i’ll have to wake you up.”

he pops one eye open, and then another, meeting your affectionate gaze with a silly grin because damn, you know him so well.

“i love you… don’t ever leave me. i think i’d seriously die without you.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[bitchlessdino]

Imagine boyfriend!Wonwoo wanting you to cut his hair at home. He sees you cutting your hair just fine and he doesn’t think that his should be any harder. You remind him that just because you follow a couple of tutorials and perfect your bangs for the first time after multiple tries does not mean you were licensed to cut his hair no matter how low maintenance he thinks it is.

“It’s not even that long. It’s actually at a really cute length,” you argue as you rake through his dark locks that now reach his shoulders.

“You’re not giving me a whole new style, it’s just a trim. I trust you with a trim.”

There was no way that you trusted yourself, but if it’s what he wanted, you were willing to give it a try. You sit down on a dining chair placed in the middle of the bathroom in front of a mirror. You take deep breath as you flex the blades of the scissors between your digits, mustering up whatever courage you have.

Your boyfriend turned client seems to be calmer thanyou are, despite the fact he would face the harsh consequences. Instead he softly strokes your back, letting you know that whatever happens it will be okay. It calms you down only just a little bit.

You asked him to remove his glasses, placing them aside where they wouldn’t be a bother. You reminded of his pretty brown eyes that stare back at you in amusement, joined with his soft smile that perks up when he sees your face.

Breaking out of he trance, you finally snip the side of his hair and you were able to breathe again. The snips slowly gradually grew more confident finally seeing potential in this spontaneous new project until you’re met with an obstacle. “Dammit, this chair is too low.”

You bent your knees, but still, it was not enough for you to reach the end of Wonwoo’s the way you want. You move closer towards him, his thigh bordered by either of your legs, and there is a glint of something in his gaze. You exhale softly, snipping off more of the hair you placed between your fingers.

Focused on the task at hand, you didn’t notice how your weight shifted into Wonwoo’s thigh, almost leveraging him as a seat while you did him the favor he asked. Cutting off the bit of hair left in front of his eyes, you smile in contentment until you realize that you were in Wonwoo’s direct line of vision and slowly you settle into the warmth of his body.

Holding the scissors at arm’s length, you’re lost in his longing and cannot get a word in edgewise as he captures all of your vocabulary in a gentle liplock that heats up every passing second. He bites into your moan like an apple, crisp and sweet, while his hands goes up your back to press you closer towards him until there is room to even breathe.

When he parts, it’s bittersweet, but you catch the mischief in his eyes before he says, “Does this mean I have to give you a bigger tip?”

You ignore the obvious innuendo and lightly smack him against the apple of his cheek to which he winces exaggeratedly. “It not that kind of service, sir.”

“But if I can afford it?” He grins.

“Then you shouldn’t be getting haircuts at home cheapskate.”

[mattybsgroupie]

sleepover | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); thigh riding (f); p in v; creampie; mommy kink; sub!matt

- ♡ -

notes: i wrote two dom!matt fics in a row i do not recognize myself. back to the sub!matt agenda, somebody has got to do it, i am the chosen one!!! (please it’s a trump meme) this is a silly little one i wrote cuz i’ve been dreaming some weird things these last few days and i’d very much like to fuck matt afterwards. not proofread but hope you enjoy it. always so thankful for every like, comment, reblog and follow, love y’all sm ♡ btw next week i might post a chris request i got idkkk

- ♡ -

i woke up out of breath, sweat dripping from my forehead as i tried to calm down. it was a nightmare - a terrible one, where i no longer had matt and no matter how much i’d scream, my voice wouldn’t come out. my phone buzzed, the screen lighting up the ceiling and part of my room. it was 3am.

i reached for the nightstand, first taking a sip of water and then grabbing my cellphone, checking my notifications. i had one missed call from matt and two other messages, which only read “babe, you up?”

i felt as the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders, my chest gradually lowering as i got more relaxed. i smiled and speed dialed the first number on my list.

“why are you awake!” matt picked up in a surprised tone, not really waiting for my answer. “i just texted you, did you feel it coming or something?” he giggled.

“hi, babe” i said, my voice still shaky. “i just woke up, actually”

“what happened?” matt asked me once again, clearly concerned as he heard how i sounded. i gulped and gave a few taps on my chest as i rested my back on the headboard. “what is it, hm? bad dream?”

���uhum” i nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. he knew i’d soon be curled up between the sheets, trying to fall asleep again. “what about you babe? can't sleep?” i asked, already knowing the response.

matt sighed and i could picture him running his fingers through his hair, trying to not upset me “anxious”.

“i’m sorry to hear that, matty” i pouted from the other side of the screen. “do you wanna facetime?” i suggested what we had done plenty of times. we’d be facing each other, talking nonsense until one of us fall asleep - of course, when things didn’t take a turn to either matt’s or my own horniness.

“actually… was thinking about coming over” i smiled, but he couldn’t see it. he always made me feel like a teenage girl, changing the reason of my nervousness to something silly, like him coming over.

“no way, you’re not getting the road right now” i said, playing hard to get.

“what?” matt sounded confused. “why not?!”

“it’s late and i worry about you” i responded. “don’t you have something schedule for tomorrow?”

“i don’t give a fuck” matt said, “i wanna be with you right now, do you wanna be with me?” i nodded and as if he could see me from there, he continued. “please, mommy?”

“i’m waiting!” i jokingly hang up on him after gasping by the nickname, as if it was too bold of him to call me that.

- ♡ -

i heard three knocks on my bedroom door and didn’t bother getting up. i rolled myself on the bed, waiting for him to join me.

“did i take too long?” matt asked, biggest smile on his face. he locked the door and quickly came next to me, lying down by my side.

“yeah, you know mommy doesn’t like to wait” matt widened his eyes, gulping at my words, realizing what he had done over the phone.

“i just said that so you could let me come over” he said, acting tough as he rolled his eyes before resting his head above my chest, snuggling into me.

“oh, that’s too bad” i pouted, my fingers running through his hair. “you got me all worked up…”

matt quickly raised his head, blue eyes staring at me in surprise, grin growing on his face. “did i? really?”

“of course, my good boy always gets me going” i teased, matt’s cheeks turning red. “why? you came here to sleep?”

“i mean” he started, grabbing my waist, turning my body over and changing our positions. he was now under me, his hands resting on my hips while i adjusted myself in order to get comfortable on his lap. “not anymore”.

matt leaned in for a kiss, holding the back of my head and bringing us closer. i could feel his beard slightly tickling my face as he deepened the pressure of his lips against mine, silently asking to go further by sticking his tongue and teasing me. i opened my mouth and matt’s tongue quickly slid in, the wet sounds taking over my darkened room.

one of matt's hand moved to my breasts, massaging it over the shirt. i gasped for the sudden contact, pulling away from the kiss, which led him to go to my neck instead. he trailed his lips down, altering between biting and licking my skin. my hands went to his hair once again, tangling my fingers on his curls.

matt lowered his head and stopped right above my nipple before looking at me with needy puppy eyes. i nodded vigorously, but instead of removing my shirt, matt hid his face underneath it, streching the cloth in order to fit inside. i felt his wet tongue teasing my nub and since i could no longer pull his hair, i rested my hands on his bare thighs. as matt started to swril his tongue, i threw my head back and couldn't help but start to move my hips forward, trying to get some friction to my already wet pussy.

i let out a moan when his free went to my other boob, his thumb circling the hardened nub that poked through the shirt. i wanted to look at him - wanted to see how his beard looked like rubbing against my skin, which color the hickeys he left would be, how much would the saliva run down my torso.

with my eyes closed and feeling matt sucking my tits, i tried to touch the hem of my shirt in order to remove it, i couldn't stand one more second without looking at his eyes again - however, my palm met something harder, covered by a soft fabric. i groped his shaft and received a muffled moan from matt, still busy in my tits. now with my eyes open i could finally take my clothes off, revealing matt with his messy hair, beard wet from rubbing his face against his own kisses, lips swollen.

“look at me baby” i called and carressed his cheek, “you said you wanted to sleepover and now look at you, already a mess for mommy...”

“i'm s-sorry, mommy” he started, “can't help it, you taste so good”.

“yeah? did you miss me?” i teased, starting to drag myself over his thigh once again. “we saw each other two days ago”

“it's too much” matt complained, hands going to my hips, helping me set a proper pace. “needy again”, he glanced at tent on his shorts, where my palm rested.

“is mommy's baby needy?” i almost mocked him and he nodded pathetically, but still not letting me take full control as he started to pump his legs' muscles, making my pussy clench. i opened my mouth, but nothing came out of it. matt's grip tighetned and he forced my body down, completely leading my movements.

“mommy seems needy as well” matt spoke, smashing his lips against mine. i let out a frustrated whine, wanting to feel more - i needed him inside of me. “aren't you?”

“yes- fuck” i said, trying to come back to my senses regain control of the situation “babe, be a good boy for me hm?"”

when i finally stroked matt's boner, his hands rapdly went to my ass, both palms groping it harshly as i entered inside his pants. i wrapped my fingers around his aching cock, and being the good boy he was, matt lifted up his hips, allowing me to pull down his shorts and reveal his hardened dick. he touched my waistband in response, silently asking if he could do the same to me. i mimicked his moves, letting the fabric slide down my legs.

“thought i had told you to not wear panties to bed” he said, pulling the strings of my underwear. “isn't mommy supposed to be good as well?” matt was driving me crazy with all the teasing.

i suddenly started to move my fist up and down, quickly jerking him off. matt was used with me starting slow and building up his excitement until he climaxed. but tonight, it didn't seem like he wanted to be treated kindly. matt threw his head back and closed his eyes, groaning loudly “f-fuck!”

i brushed my thumb over his tip, matt’s body immediately reacting, jointing his hips forward into my fist. i dragged my finger on his slit as matt’s nails dig into my skin, spreading the pre-cum down his shaft. his breathing got heavier, chest rising and falling quickly while he bit every inch of skin he could reach.

“not talking back anymore?” i asked, gradually stopping my motions, receiving a groan in response.

“mommy, don’t be mean” he pleaded as his sneaky fingers made their way to my entrance, pulling my panties to the side. he kissed my neck, making my eyes roll as i melted into his touch.

“matthew” i caught his attention since i didn’t really use his full name often. “stopping teasing so fucking much and just fucking say it”. he widened his eyes before letting the grin grow wide on his face.

“please, please, please” he said, “ride me, momma”i immediately got out of his thigh, adjusting myself to be in between his legs. i could feel matt’s cock being lazily dragged against my now bare pussy, panties removed as soon as i got up.

i lowered myself on his shaft, nearing my throbbing cunt to his leaking tip. both of my hands went to matt’s shoulders, looking for balance as his grabbed my hips, helping me fully sit on his length. matt’s dick was huge, stretching my walls as he hid his face on the crook of my neck, tickling beard making me giggle as i tried to adjust myself to his size.

“wasn’t so hard, was it?” i asked, getting comfortable to move my hips up. as i started riding, matt wouldn’t say a word, only muffling moans in my ear. he denied with his head, whining as i fastened my pace.

“c-close” he said, gripping tighter. “mommy- fuck”

“hold for me baby” i spoke, already out of breath, bouncing harder on his dick. matt decided to stick his face on my boobs and dragged his tongue along my skin, biting my nipple and holding me by my waist, jointing his hips forward in order to reach his high quicker.

“yes baby, just like that” i praised, matt now pounding mindlessly into me. “good boy, good boy” and that’s what took for him to snap, groaning loudly as his cock twitched and he released the knot on his lower belly, spurts of his warm cum filling my insides.

his spasms brought me closer to the edge, but i wouldn’t stop riding him. i kept on bouncing on his cock, now in search of my own climax. “mommy- mommy, fuck!” matt cried from the overstimulation. his whimpers got louder and so did my moans as my orgasm washed over me, mouth hanging open with my trembling body as i came over matt’s shaft.

i was too tired to remove myself, letting my weight fall over him. matt rolled us over, both of us laying in my bed. he turned to the side and pulled out, the mix of our realeases running down my legs and staining my sheets. matt let out a chuckle as he wrapped his arms around me, bringing me closer to his chest.

“should we sleep now?” i asked, running my fingers through his tummy.

“kid” he called, pointing to my bedroom widow. “the sun is already up” he spoke - as if this was gonna stop us from sleeping till noon. “but that’s why i came here, right? sleepover”

“of course, you’re always so clever” i rolled my eyes and giggled, allowing my body to relax next to his. i closed my eyes and knew that, while matt was around, the bad dreams would no longer come.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattswhore-44 @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattttypooh @sturnsmia @sturnthepot

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited) widowedfather!simon gets help with his daughter. [ connected with this post as an au! ] [ one, two ]

the incessant wailing of the baby seemed never-ending. her plump, delicate cheeks were tinged with a crimson hue, and torrents of tears streamed down her face. simon, standing amidst the formula cans, wondered briefly how such a tiny thing could produce such an ear-piercing noise, the sound grating at his ears, which only served to exacerbate his already troubled state of mind.

he was at a loss, unable to figure out what was causing her distress. simon had just fed her, burped her, and changed her diaper recently—yet she continued to cry inconsolably, legs kicking and arms tucked to her body. it’d been like that, him desperately trying to calm her down while receiving judgmental glares from onlookers (although he couldn't bring himself to care) for the past fifteen minutes.

she misses her mother.

well, she's gone. he was all she had now, and he wasn't much– he knew that. he’d asked price’s wife for help several times after she was born, when he couldn't figure out why she was crying, what to do when she wouldn't go to sleep. simon eventually stopped asking for help a couple of months later, didn't want to inconvenience them any more than he already had. didn't matter if they swore that he wasn't. he was a father, he needed to act like one.

simon had never been annoyed or angry with his child. how could he ever find it in himself to be annoyed or angry with his own flesh and blood? especially when she bore such an uncanny resemblance to his late wife.

no, his anger was solely directed towards himself, anger for not being able to understand her needs quickly, anger for not knowing how to soothe her. doubt plagued his every thought, making him question his capability to raise her properly.

“hi, would you like some help with her?”

taken from his thoughts, simon turned slightly to where the voice spoke, a woman standing just a few feet from him. her grocery cart was filled with food and two children, twin boys, were hanging off the side he realized. they seemed to be no more than five years old, but they were calm; giggling amongst themselves and pointing to what cereals they would eat early tomorrow.

simon redirects his attention toward the woman, her smile is warm, sympathetic, and non-judgmental. she eyes the newborn with starry eyes and a slight pout on her lips. simon shakes his head softly. “s’alrigh, don’t want t’bother you.” he murmurs gently. regardless, even though he declines her help, his daughter continues to cry inconsolably, much like the day she was born.

she waves him off and grins— everything about her was so, motherly, so kind. “believe it or not, i miss the newborn phase. they're like little critters when they hit their tot years.” she whispers the last part to avoid her kids overhearing and sends him a wink. he chuckles, it's small, barely there but she hears it nonetheless and responds with a soft laugh of her own.

the woman takes a few steps forward and gently takes the baby from his grasp, despite his hesitation, before he can decline once more. and a weight is lifted from his shoulders, his body no longer tense from not understanding what was wrong. simon watches as she cradles the newborn, a bright smile adorning her face, before she looks up at him. “she’s just a little gassy, feeding her while she’s upright will help to stop this from happening.”

simon anxiously nods, his heart pounding as the woman gently applies pressure just below his daughter's tummy, causing the gas to escape gradually and the baby's cries to turn into soft whimpers instead. his heartbeat slows, and he readjusts his arms to take the child. the woman lovingly coos at the newborn one last time before placing her delicately into simon’s waiting embrace.

she waves him off once more when he goes to thank her, smiling. “we parents need to stick together,” she says, before she walks back towards her cart and affectionately runs her hands through her children’s hair. “so, where to next?” her laugh is soft and loving as the two excitedly shout, "candy!" she looks over her shoulder at him and rolls her eyes, mouthing: ‘critters’

and simon, since the death of his wife, finally feels something.

[tightjeansjavi]

knead

A/N: so after rewatching Narcos all weekend and staring at the screen with big ole heart eyes for the infamous Javier Peña, I decided that he, like Joel, deserves nice things 🤍

~word count: 1.2k~

Summary: Javier Peña desperately needs a fucking break and to be kinder to himself <3

Pairing | Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of guns, cigarettes, implied death(s) due to an unsuccessful raid, established relationship, fluff, hurt and comfort, Javi is incredibly hard on himself, takes place during season 3 of Narcos, both Javi and the reader speak Spanish, reader has no physical descriptions, no age gap, +18 minors dni!

Lo entiendo, hermano. - I understand, brother.

No lo entiendes, hermano. Nadie lo entiende - You don’t understand, brother. No one does.

No tienes que esperarme despierta todas las noches, querida. Tu sueño es importante también, cariño. - You don’t have to wait up for me every night, querida. Your sleep is important too, baby.

Jav, yo quiero asegurarme de que has llegado bien a casa. - Jav, I always want to make sure you’re home safe

Javi, No tienes que disculparte por nada. Por favor, mi amor. - Javi, please don’t apologize for this. Please, my love.

Siempre tan bueno conmigo - Always good to me

Te quiero con todo lo que pueda ofrecerte, cariño - I love you with everything that I have to offer, cariño

Te quiero más a ti, Jav - I love you most, Jav.

When he comes home, he’s still in his olive green tac vest. His hair is strewn about in a sweaty mess across his face. He reeks of gunpowder, stale tobacco, and disappointment. It drips from his pores and lands in a puddle at his shoes, once shiny, now dull, scuffed and speckled in blood. A failed raid. Innocence lost, and disappointment. So much fucking dissapointment that swallows Javier Peña alive.

An anonymous tip leading to more fucking bloodshed. So much for things being done differently this time around.

A hero? Hardly.

Javier doesn’t feel like a hero. Not when all he’s done is failed over, and over again.

We’ll get them next time, Javier.

Will we?

Of course. You know the Cali Cartel like it’s the back of your hand, Peña. We’re this much closer to bringing them to justice.

Justice? He laughs. If there was any justice in this world, I would be in fucking jail right now.

Lo entiendo, hermano.

Javier laughs, voice rasped in bitterness. He swings his keys around on his pointer finger, jaw ticked, muscles aching beneath the sweat stained fabric of his shirt.

No lo entiendes, hermano. Nadie lo entiende. Javier responds coldly and unlocks his car door before climbing into the driver seat.

He thinks hard on his failure the entire drive home. He doesn’t listen to the radio. He sits in silence, puffing away on a stress cigarette even though he swore he was trying to quit.

In the lowlight from the hallway, Javier is able to make out your sleeping mass under the colorful patterned quilt on his couch. He swings the door shut softly behind him and quietly locks it.

His back and shoulders are tense, aching with each step he takes. Another jab and painful reminder of his failure tonight.

Despite Javier’s protests, you always wait for him to return home. He appreciates this more than you realize. It’s his one sense of comfort that he feels he’s undeserving of.

No tienes que esperarme despierta todas las noches, querida. Tu sueño es importante también, corazón.

Jav, yo quiero asegurarme de que has llegado bien a casa.

The worn couch cushions gradually press down from the weight of his body as he slowly sits down in the unoccupied space between your covered feet. He winces when he feels that annoying pinch in his lower back and brings his hands over his face, dragging them down over his alquine nose with a heavy sigh. He pulls out his gun, badge, cigarettes, and lighter. He tosses them onto the coffee table and leans back just as you begin to stir awake from the sound.

“Jav?” You murmur softly and subconsciously reach for him over the blanket.

“Its me, cariño.” He rasps. His hand reaches towards you in the dark, finding you soon after. He laces his fingers through yours.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly, sitting up and facing him.

“No. I’m not okay.” He admits.

“What happened?”

He looks over at you through the darkness and shrugs his shoulders. “What didn’t happen.” He clarifies. His thumb skates across the back of your hand gently.

“Do you want to talk about it?..”

“No. I just..I’m tired, querida. I’m tired of failing all the fucking time.” He sounds exhausted. You know just how much his job truly weighs on him.

“Javier, my love, you are not failing all the time. You aren’t. No one thinks that you are a failure, Jav.”

He makes a snuffling sound through his nose that comes across more like a scoff. His movements cease when he feels your freehand grasp his jaw and pull him in close. Even in the dark, your eyes are soft, gentle, and laced with concern.

“Everyone tells me that I’m a hero, cariño. I’m not a hero. I’ve never been a hero.”

“Javi, you don’t have to be a hero. People mean well with their words. I know they do, but you have to try and not let it get to you this much. Okay? Javier, you have one of the toughest jobs out there. No one but yourself is going to understand how you feel. Whatever happened tonight, does not make you a terrible person, or a failure. You’re doing everything you can to take down the Cali Cartel.” You reassure him.

“I feel like I have to be the hero. Javier Peña, the dashing DEA agent that took down Pablo Escobar.” He laughed. “Cariño, I was told that this time things would be different, but they were wrong. Everytime I try to ensure that innocent lives won’t be lost, someone gets caught in a crossfire. A civilian. A child. An unsuspecting bystander. It weighs on me. It fucking weighs on me more than I’m willing to admit.” He said in an exasperated tone.

You saw the tears begin to brew along his waterline before he even realized he was crying. You detected the strain in his voice, and sprung into action. Your hand dropped from his face only to then pull him into a hug with your hand gently cradling the back of his head and your fingers slipping through his hair, nails scratching his scalp gently in hopes to soothe him.

His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap so he could be closer to you. His warm palms slid under the thin fabric of your shirt along your lower back and he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled. “I don’t want you to see me like this, cariño.”

“Javi, No tienes que disculparte por nada. Por favor, mi amor.”

“You’re so good to me.” He kisses the exposed skin on your neck, the tips of his mustache tickles you as you hug him tightly, rubbing your hands up and down his back and shoulders in a soothing motion.

“And you’re good to me, Javier. Siempre tan bueno conmigo.”

He nuzzles you affectionately, wishing he could crawl inside of you and live there forever. “Cariño, can you do something for me?” He asks softly, dragging his lips across your skin once more.

“Anything, Jav.”

“My back and shoulders are fucking killing me. Can you—” you cut him off before he even has a chance to finish his sentence.

“Of course I can.”

He breathes a sigh of relief through his nose “Gracias, cariño”

He slowly drops his arms from around your waist so he can remove his shirt. He undos each button with meticulous precision and slowly slides the fabric down from his forearms. He lays his shirt along the side of the couch while you slide into the space behind him, with your thighs wrapping around his torso. He leans back into your touch, lashes fluttering shut when your hands work their way up from his lower back, kneading the tender strained muscles there.

You work your way upwards and pay close attention to the areas where he’s feeling the most pain. He murmurs praises in both Spanish and English under his breath when you slowly and delicately work through a particular nasty knot between his shoulder blades.

Your gentle, yet firm touch sends the DEA agent into a state of bliss, and he’s putty in your hands in no time.

Your chin comes to rest along the crook of his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss along his jawline. He hums and tilts his head to the side, finding your lips in a gentle kiss. A thank you. An I love you, and an I appreciate you can be tasted through the kiss. He rests his hands along your thighs that are wrapped around him, gently kneading the soft flesh with his strong, yet gentle hands.

“Te quiero con todo lo que pueda ofrecerte, cariño”

You smile against his lips, kissing him deeper while your fingers gently brush through the wispy tendrils of hair along his forehead.

“Te quiero yo más, Jav.”

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

I no longer have a taglist so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications.

[13rurururi]

♥︎ "my boyfriend is a two-faced liar" (geto suguru x reader)

To an outsider, Suguru seems like the most gentle and doting boyfriend. Little do they know, he's quite the rough brat-tamer behind closed doors, and you're left to handle his harsh punishments like the good girl you are.

pairing: Geto Suguru x Female! Reader

cw/s: 18+, degradation, dirty talk, pussy slapping, vaginal sex, fingering, mirror sex, suguru is possessive, dom! suguru, sub! reader, cockwarming, nicknames (princess & baby), etc.

a/n: everyone is aged-up

Suguru is the sweetest boyfriend.

You are merrily walking side-by-side in the boisterous streets of Shibuya. Bashfully, he gingerly clasps his hand on yours, keeping you snuggled right beside him. He treats you to your favorite meals and buys you numerous gifts in your beloved date spots — cafés, parks, and shopping malls — all the while taking pictures of your giddy, smiling face.

He nuzzles his face on the crown of your head and softly kisses your cheeks 'til they're blushing red. He offers you his jacket when you feel cold, and he laughs heartily at how it loosely drapes around your adorable figure.

When the sun prepares to set, he walks you home, letting you blabber and giggle about anything on your mind. He's a good listener, and you feel truly loved by your dearest Suguru.

As you near your house, however, the softness of his eyes gradually dissipates into a darkening stare. You feel yourself shrink under the intensity of his perusal, and your words falter until it's silent. You're at the entrance of your home, and Suguru doesn't bid you goodbye; instead, he towers over your figure, firmly grabbing your waist under his jacket that flutters around your frame.

He doesn't bid you goodbye — instead, he hoists you up his shoulder and brings you to your bedroom without uttering a word.

After all, Suguru is a two-faced bastard.

Now, as you limply flail over his broad shoulder, he mercilessly trails his cold fingers up-and-down your inner thighs, purposefully ghosting a thumb over your aching pool of arousal.

"You think you can just flirt with anyone like a whore, huh?" With his harshly spat words came a whine-inducing slap on your ass, eliciting a broken whimper from your parted lips. He carries you with ease, as if you weighed nothing to his well-trained, muscular form. Without missing a beat, Suguru pins you down on your bed, nearly burying you in your thick duvet.

"I wasn't flirting! He—he asked me for directions, that's all—" Your attempt at explaining yourself to your agitated lover is interrupted by two thick fingers shoved into your mouth, making you uncontrollably salivate on Suguru's rough digits.

"You could've ignored him, but you talked to him like a slut desperate to get all her holes stuffed full," he berates you in a deep rumble, keeping his fingers in your gurgling mouth despite your desperate effort to move his burly arm. On instinct, you feel your jaw clamp down on your boyfriend's fingers, making him faintly yelp at the prick of your teeth on his skin.

Realizing what you have done, you gape at Suguru with a frantic look in your widened eyes. "Suguru, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

Rip!

The resounding tear of your dress envelops the room, and you feel goosebumps travel across your bare skin — both from the cool air and the sharp, lust-filled glower of your boyfriend's eyes.

Geto takes a step away from the bed, taking a moment to admire your depraved, squirming figure. You didn't wear any underwear; after all, he had requested (borderline demanded) you to do so, and who are you to deny your sweet, sweet lover?

Feeling a vulnerable coolness prick at your bare skin, you cross your legs together as you clumsily try to shield your perky nipples with Suguru's jacket that you're still sporting. Geto dives back into your bed, his sudden weight causing you to lightly jump and jiggle in all the right places.

Fuck, he's getting so hard. He'd usually succumb to your sensual whimpers, but his pretty girl needs to pay for her mistakes. He releases a huff of air through his nostrils as he latches his palms onto your bare midriff, repositioning you to sit on his lap with your back against his sculpted chest.

Spreading your legs in a torturously slow manner, you feel his lips subtly move against your ear as he gravelly mutters, "You know who you belong to, right?"

Your whimper is cut short by him twisting his figure to directly face both your bodies towards a full-length mirror near your bedside table. Such a mirror is an essential prop to multiple cute couple selfies you make Suguru take with you.

You recall taking a romantic picture with him just this morning prior to your date. In the photo, you were carelessly leaning on his well-defined chest while Suguru snaked a strong arm around your waist — both of your faces were alight in joy and evident infatuation for one another. It's your favorite portrait taken with him yet.

Now, as you tearily gaze at your wet, bare cunt spread wide open by your supposedly gentle lover's calloused fingers, you realize that your innocent mirror may soon become tainted by your boyfriend's darker desires. You have no time to ponder further, for Suguru hastily buries two digits deep into your squelching pussy.

Instantaneously, your moans begin to penetrate the sex-filled air, urging Suguru to move his digits quicker. His motions are fluid, precise, and merciless as he manages to hit the spot that makes you arch your body in pure bliss.

Grabbing your chin with one hand, he forces your gaze back to your sinful caricature in the mirror. He relentlessly pumps his fingers in-and-out of your tight hole, coating your slit and sensitive clit with a thin sheen of your wetness.

"My slut — you're my slut, my pretty little cumdump," he gruffly mutters from behind you as he suddenly ceases his ministrations, entirely removing his coated digits from inside you.

The abrupt loss of stimulation made you wiggle on his lap, begging for relief in a shrill, blissed-out voice. "Suguru, please touch me!"

The last intonation of your desperate plea is unconsciously relayed in a scream when Geto roughly brings his palm down on your sobbing pussy, slapping you into a flutter of pain and hedonism.

"Nngh! Mmh!" You're left with no ounce of coherence as Suguru continuously strikes your sensitive pussy lips in a consistent and devilishly harmonious tempo. Your euphoric melody accompanies each slap, slap, slap perfectly — together, you compose a depraved symphony that Suguru regards as his favorite tune.

Soon, Suguru grows satisfied with your obscene reflection on the now-corrupted looking glass. He nudges your limp head to urge you to see, and you can't help but lightly twitch in building arousal at your state: your legs are wide open and limp across your boyfriend's lap; your pussy is fully exposed, revealing a mess of reddish skin and glistening cum; finally, you look at your lover's face on the reflection — the lustful haze is yet to clear, and you know he still has plans for you.

"Think you deserve my cock now, baby?"

The dark undertone of his usually calm voice makes you swallow your anxious anticipation. Tilting your head to face him, you gingerly peck his cheek in an unspoken submission; and you stare into his eyes with a look you know makes him relent and tirelessly please you all night.

"Can I please have your cock, Suguru?"

Blinking your eyes in innocent seduction, you drag your fingers across his clothed chest, trailing down to unbutton his dress shirt. You stop your movements right above your boyfriend's throbbing member, unlatching the buttons of his pants, which makes Suguru shakily sigh in short-lived relief.

"Please, Suguru?"

With a low groan, Suguru maneuvers your frame to face him, sitting you down on his erect cock. He makes you shed off your remaining garments — his jacket — and gives you the illusion of control as he sits back and watches you remove his clothes with clammy fingers.

Your fleeting sense of boldness disperses into air once the two of you are entirely bare. Your sudden shyness makes Suguru chuckle at you mockingly, and he runs his rough palms from your hips to your breasts, toying with your pert nipples by pinching them with his thumb and index finger.

You instinctively rub your body against his in response, yearning to be wholly engulfed by his warmth. Seeing you so desperate in your lewd display, Suguru decides to give you just that.

"Then take all of it, princess."

Wrapping his hands around your arched waist, he hovers your sopping cunt right above his fully-erect cock, and as if you were his ragdoll to play with, he brings you down on his entire length without an ounce of warning.

An explosion of sensual moans, breaths, and the beat of skin-on-skin permeates your bedroom. You ground yourself by latching your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his loose man-bun. You occasionally tug his locks, and such an action makes him release a short, pitched moan that only heightens your excitement.

Suguru watches your connecting bodies with dilated pupils, his movements slowly becoming sloppier with your gradual approach to release.

"You're fucking sucking me in, baby," his breathy words of humiliation make you subconsciously squeeze his length even more. "You're so damn cock-hungry for me, huh? Only for me, right?"

You rapidly nod to appease your boyfriend, for you feel as if you have been stripped of all sense due to the overflowing pulse of pleasure coursing through your veins. Geto's cock stuffs you full with each thrust, and his ruddy head manages to hit your g-spot each time. Your warm walls twitch when his cock leaves you, only to cry out in a painful stretch when he enters you in the next beat.

You feel Suguru's fingers slip from your waist — either due to a layer of sweat or his approaching climax — and you press your lips together to muffle a particularly loud whine when he circles a finger on your bulging clit. The combined actions of your surprisingly impatient lover accelerate your build-up to release. Then, suddenly—

"Suguru!" Your shrill yelp of pleasure indicates the arrival of your climax, and it was romantically simultaneous with Suguru's own release. Your vision blurs and is momentarily overtaken by a bright light before you regain consciousness once again.

Panting and grunting faintly, he sits you down on his half-hardened length. To your surprised contentment, he brings you closer to him as he fully embraces your limp and sensitive frame, sensually kissing your forehead.

You still need to get used to Suguru's abrupt switches from a sweet and loving boyfriend to a domineering bastard that leaves you fucked senseless, and vice versa.

Regardless, you embrace him as well, and you hum in hazy satisfaction when he rubs gentle circles on your lower back. You know you'll spend the rest of the evening cock-warming him as he listens to your hushed stories. If you're lucky, you may get him to share some of his tales, as well.

In the end, your boyfriend Suguru truly is a two-faced bastard; however, your exciting days of eruptive pleasure always end in tender kisses and embraces.

"I love you," he whispers in your ear, and it feels like the universe silences itself to make way for his meaningful declaration.

Truly, you wouldn't want it any other way.

a/n: Here I am once again with Suguru brainrot. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one — he's such a complex character, you know? Reblogs and notes would be appreciated! ☆

[muddyorbsblr]

onyx pt2

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Thor's return to the Compound reveals that your new pet kitten wasn't quite what you thought he was

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: language (it's like 2 cuss words but i'm still not sorry, Rogers); the lightest sprinkle of angst [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: himbo Thor hours

You couldn't believe what you were hearing from Thor. Implying that the sweet tiny kitten on your shoulder was actually the god that wouldn't even spare you a single glance sideways. The one that barely even registered that you existed.

"Thor no. It can't be. This little bub is small and baking biscuits on my cheek. He purrs. He's cat-shaped. Onyx is a cat. He's my cat. And right now you're scaring him being all up in his face like this. I say this with so much love…Thunder? Back the fuck off." Your kitten shivered even harder as he snuggled into your neck, keeping his little face buried in your hair.

"Lady Y/N, I know my brother's eyes anywhere. Especially after he disguised himself as a snake when we were merely eight years old and--"

"Changed back and stabbed you. Bleh it's me. I know the story, Thunder," you finished for him, suddenly exceedingly aware of the weight of maybe-Onyx-maybe-Loki on your shoulder despite the tiny feline frame. "But I'm telling you there's just no way that my cat is--"

You looked into Onyx's eyes and immediately your shoulders dropped, realizing that it wasn't a coincidence that his eyes were a familiar shade of blue. Thor was right; he knew his brother's eyes anywhere. The kitten embraced your face, pressing his nose to your cheek repeatedly.

"Onyx, look at me." He stilled against your cheek, his wide pleading eyes looking into yours with something that looked akin to resignation. "You were hissing at FRIDAY and Shaun about getting chipped because you understood everything we were saying. Am I right?" He didn't move, the pupils in his eyes growing wider and the corners of his eyes starting to fill with tears. "Because you're Loki?"

He took a deep breath, this little chest puffing up with air and suddenly looking significantly less cat-like than he did a minute ago. Onyx -- actually, Loki -- pressed his face to your cheek again, the action now making your breath hitch in the back of your throat. Then finally he nodded,  and the air left your lungs.

You walked over to  your apartment, Thor's heavy footsteps following just behind you, and placed Onyx/Loki on your desk in front of a notepad and a pen. "Talk." He looked up at you again with those wide pleading eyes. "Please," you added, unsure of what to feel now that the last few hours you spent with your newfound pet was being colored with the context of who he actually was.

Too many thoughts, too many questions, floated around your head, nearly overwhelming you, as your last round of pain meds began to wear off and the discomfort you were feeling gradually became a throbbing pulsating sensation throughout your left side.

Most of them revolving around why he acted the way that he did in this tiny form with you, and how long this could have gone on if Thor hadn't revealed his identity within ten seconds of seeing him. The blond god pulled out a chair for you to read along as Loki's green magic surrounded the pen and words began to form on the paper.

I made a misstep while practicing my magic and cast a spell that turned me into this diminutive feline form. I had exited my quarters earlier today to find assistance in retrieving the spell I require to reverse its effects.

"Hold on." The pen stopped mid-stroke, the cat looking at you with your hand held up. "If you can make things move with your mind, why couldn't you just get the spell book--"

"Grimoire," Thor corrected you. "He gets a bit testy when you use the other word."

"Right then, why couldn't you just move the grimoire down and reverse the spell on your own?" The pen lifted again, you and his brother crowding around the paper to read his answer.

When I scale down my form to something so vulnerable, my magic is not as potent. In theory the grimoire is only just at the limit of my powers' reach in this form and I run the risk of crushing myself with the tome.

"Loki, are you telling me you need help reaching the top shelf?" Thor chortled at the question, sounding like he was struggling to keep his chuckles at bay. "Can it, Thunder, it's not that funny." The cat nodded at you, starting to stand on his back legs again. "Okay, so why not ask your brother? He's way taller than me."

"Oh that I can answer for him, Lady Y/N," he quipped, raising his own hand up in the air. "My brother doesn't trust me around his possessions. Something about how I have a tendency to break his things."

"You know what, that tracks," you muttered, standing and presenting the kitten your hand. "Come on then, let's get you back to normal." He hopped onto your hand and you were about to put him on your shoulder before you stopped, keeping him perched on your hands instead. He meowed at you, starting to climb up your arm before you picked him up again, keeping him in your hands.

"Think my brother wants to be on your shoulder, Lady Y/N. Seemed quite comfortable there," Thor spoke up, letting out a soft chuckle when the kitten started nodding enthusiastically, agreeing with him. "Perhaps you should--"

"I let him stay there earlier because he was my cat," you shot back. "Now he's your brother, it's not the same thing." He whimpered, his little cat body shaking in your hands, taking every ounce of strength you could spare not to give in and just place him back there. He kneaded at your palms the entire way to his apartment, Thor carrying around your stepping stool.

You all got to Loki's study, setting him down on the desk as he guided you to the grimoire he needed, shaking his head at each tome on the shelf that you'd pointed at so far.

"My word, Brother, your attention to detail in these sketches is remarkable, you even got--" Loki hissed at his brother, who was currently standing by a stack of journals, a small sketchbook in his hand. "Alright alright I desist. I shall take my leave. You shall be the one to divulge this information once you are yourself again."

The blond Asgardian's heavy footsteps sounded throughout the apartment until he left, then a few moments afterward you faintly heard his booming voice as he rejoined the rest of the team. You pointed at another grimoire that finally had him nodding his little head, stepping aside on the desk to make room for you to set it down.

"Okay then," you spoke up once you stepped back down to the ground, suddenly feeling more awkward as you stood alone with him in his apartment. "I'll uhh…I'll leave you to it."

You made it to the door of his study before you heard his tiny meow again, seeing him standing on his back legs at the edge of his desk, grabby hands outstretched towards you.

"I'll see you when you're…you again. Later, Loki." The sound of his little meows tugged at your heartstrings, nearly making you turn around and…honestly you didn't even know why he'd want you there with him but you'd stay if only to wipe the sad look from his face. You couldn't deny the adorable little cat much anyways in the hours he was yours.

Then again, you probably couldn't deny him anything in his Asgardian form, either.

An hour after you walked out of Loki's apartment you were hobbling your way back to yours, having eaten enough to take your next round of medications and toting a compound that Banner whipped up in his lab that could maybe help your injuries heal a touch faster. You had half a mind to just cut the sweatshirt off of you once you got inside to avoid the lingering discomfort, but ultimately decided against it.

That wasn't a good enough reason to let a perfectly good forest green sweatshirt go to waste.

You were about to start using the compound on your ribs first when a voice stopped you. "Darling…"

That voice. You recognized that voice anywhere. Giving you butterflies whenever you heard it in mission briefings. Haunting your vivid fantasies regardless of the time or appropriateness. The voice that had you incapable of forming words on any other day.

"Good to see you back," you said, trying to keep your composure around the god.

You reached for your sweatshirt again to cover yourself from his piercing stormy gaze, but before you could, he stood before you, his hand gently grasping your arm while the other rested on your waist. "I received a message from my brother while I was in my feline form, asking if I could check on your injuries. Aid in your healing somehow, if I feel inclined. His words, not mine." Your breath hitched when his thumbs stroked at your skin more tenderly than any of your former lovers had ever touched you. "I would have done it regardless."

Your pulse was thumping in your ears from his proximity, from the way he held your gaze. From the way he held you like he was fighting every urge to pull you to him. Like he would let you step out of it if that was what you wanted.

But all you wanted at the moment was to ask him, "Why didn't you tell me who you were the second you saw me in the pantry?"

The journal Thor was holding earlier materialized on your desk, diverting your attention to the open page. Probably the page that he was commending earlier that made the raven-haired god hiss at him in cat form. The image on the page had the air leave your lungs.

It was a sketch of you.

"My refusal to look at you before was not from disdain, little mortal," he spoke, taking a step closer to you, his hand traveling up your arm and framing your face. You could feel his breath on  your skin. "It was because every time I would look upon your features, I had to fight back every compulsion to do this."

He tucked his finger under your chin, turning you to face him before pressing a tender kiss to your lips that had you weakening in his hold, your stomach violently fluttering as his lips moved against yours. You whimpered against his lips, making him pull you into his arms, weaving his fingers into your hair.

"I've longed for you, precious mortal," he whispered once he pulled away, pressing kisses along the side of your face while you caught your breath. "To know the taste of your lips on mine. The feel of your supple body pressed against me." He kissed you again, lifting you off your feet and carrying you deeper into your apartment. Into your bedroom. He laid you down on your bed, briefly licking into your mouth before pulling away, making light wash over the room with a wave of his hand. "May I heal you, darling?"

Words failed you at the sight of him hovering over you, eyes wide and pleading as he looked on at the bruises and cuts that colored the left side of your torso. You wordlessly nodded your head to grant him the permission he needed to go forward, giving you a soft smile before he leaned down and pressed his lips to your bruises.

"Much better," he breathed out, nipping at your skin before moving his hands down to the waistband of your leggings, lips traveling down to your thigh and kissing you over the fabric. "Once I have seen to your injuries, you should know that I have every intention to make you mine." He kissed you just below your belly button, humming against your skin as you squirmed underneath him, deft hands working the tight fabric down your legs. "If you wish to be, that is."

"I do," you gasped out, ceasing to give a flying fuck how desperate and wanton you sounded at the moment. "I'm yours, I'm all yours."

He smiled against your skin, kissing away at the injuries you sustained on your left leg before making his way back up your body. "You've no idea how delighted I am to hear those words from you, my darling." You felt what remained of your clothing melting away along with his, your moan when skin met skin muffled by him slanting his mouth over yours.

You woke up the next morning to the feel of Loki's nose brushing against yours, pressing kisses along your face until you let out a soft giggle from his attentions. "Good morning, sweetheart."

Your response had him running his fingers along your sides, turning you into a squirming giggling mess as you tried to wrestle your way out of his hold. "Good morning, Onyx."

A/N: I heavily debated w/ myself if I was gonna put smut in this but ultimately decided not to because it's a fluff story and I wanted it to stay a full fluff story 🥴 Just know that he did, in fact, give her plenty a mango ride 😏😏

This is probs the last story I'll post for 2023, so I'm gonna wish you all a Happy New Year and here's to the whorish insanity we'll all get up to in 2024. I have a whole lot planned out, starting with more horny bitches cuts and…a certain celebration I've been putting off because I'm drowning in a sea of WIPs 😂

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

[ackermai07]

Hi! Could you write a one shot for Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kirishima where the class is watching a movie or something at the dorms and their crush falls asleep on them? I can see the boys getting all blushy when she unconsciously snuggles up closer to them 🥰🥰

Thank you!

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ˢᵒ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵒᵇᵃˡᵉ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗ ᵘᵍʰʰʰʰʰ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ⁱᵗ

wearning! : pure fluff

Don't repost please!!

"Is everyone ready?"

Mina shouted, making sure everything was set and everyone was prepared.

In short, what was happening was that tomorrow is a holiday, and after a tiring week, the girls suggested the idea of watching a movie (the kind you like), staying up late, and enjoying themselves to compensate for the positive energy lost through training and studying, and of course, everyone agreed.

𝗕𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗞𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶

The surprise was how this early-to-bed, serious guy had actually agreed to this silly movie night offer, but of course, no one dared to comment on it (they didn't want to be the reason for him changing his mind).

"Tsk... why on earth did I agree to watch this stupid movie in the first place," Bakugo muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the TV screen where the movie was playing. Truthfully, he knew the reason he was here- 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

Bakugo had always admired your confident, composed, and intelligent personality, to the point where he found himself gradually falling for you, struggling to break free from its grasp.

Another annoyed sigh escaped his lips, feigning irritation as usual, but deep down, he was genuinely happy to be sitting next to you on the couch, able to inhale your soothing scent.

It didn't take another minute before he felt a weight on his shoulder. His eyebrow raised in confusion, and when he turned his head to see, he was met with your lovely, soft face resting on his shoulder. The boy swore he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest, and for a moment, he stopped thinking, just staring at you with flushed cheeks, thankfully unnoticed in the dimmed lights.

"Oi... you," he said in his rough tone, which seemed calmer, then lightly shrugs trying to wake you up. "You'll miss the damn movie... wake up."

Meanwhile, all he got in response was a sleepy nuzzle from you, moving closer to hug his side more, enjoying the warmth emanating from him.

Poor Bakugo stopped his movements and froze in place for about a few minutes. The first to notice was Kirishima, who turned to see what was up with his friend.

"Hey Baku-bro, what's wro..."

And there Kirishima caught sight of your sleeping form next to him, a wide grin spreading across his face. Even before he spoke, Bakugo silently gestured to him, thus ensuring he stayed close to you for a longer period.

He absentmindedly played with your hair, eliciting contented hums from you, which seemed to draw the attention of the entire class towards you two. Oh, and don't worry about any commotion; once Bakugo gives them the death glare, they'll turn away without saying a word.

(half of the class has fallen asleep already, anyway).

By the end of the movie, he didn't even realize he had fallen asleep, his head resting on yours, inhaling your refreshing scent and feeling your warmth.

(This incident might actually serve as a strong incentive for him to hurry up and confess to you as soon as possible).

𝗧𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗶 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗼

It was known that Shoto often found himself in these kinds of nights, spending time with his friends, and with you, the love of his life.

Both of you attended the same middle school, and there were many clashes between you, but at that time, Shoto was only focused on his deep-seated hatred for his father.

Now, at U.A. High School, he found the time to develop his feelings for you, thus becoming immersed in love for you.

And there he was now, on the floor in front of the TV, covered with blankets for comfortable seating. You were sitting beside him, and oh, how difficult it was for him to focus on the movie content with you so close.

He also threw sidelong glances at you, admiring your focused face on the screen, and your slightly parted lips from concentrating so hard on the events. Honestly, he wished desperately to overwhelm your lips with kisses until you couldn't breathe (you can't really blame him).

As he was lost in his fantasies, he suddenly felt something descending onto his lap. And guess what? It was your head being placed on his lap.

The poor boy's brain stopped functioning as he tried to process what had just happened.

(He also felt like his heart stopped for a moment.)

"Y/n... y-you okay?" Shoto whispered softly to you, making sure only you could hear him, and his hand moved to brush a strand of hair away from your face, while a terrible blush spread across his cheeks.

The poor boy wasn't used to being affectionate :(

"Very... sleepy," was your only response as you hugged his waist and snuggled closer to his left side where warmth emanated.

Let's say he miraculously managed to control his quirk so as not to accidentally hurt you.

Meanwhile, the boy's heart swelled with emotions, and he found himself gently stroking your hair, a small smile adorning his handsome face.

And as soon as the movie ended, he carried you bridal-style and took you to your room under Momo's guidance, making sure not to wake you up at all.

On the other hand, he couldn't sleep a wink that night, but be prepared to receive the most beautiful confession in your life soon.

Bonus points: His desire to kiss you became unbearable.

𝗞𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗮 𝗘𝗶𝗷𝗶𝗿𝘂𝗼

He was one of the biggest supporters of the idea, especially since you were the one who suggested it, so of course he would always support your opinion.

He always did, seeing you as a fun person who radiated warmth like the sun, an optimistic personality he fell for boundlessly.

You were always a source of inspiration for him with your positive energy, encouraging him and praising his perseverance, and in return, he gave you the brightest smile.

His friends somehow learned about his secret admiration for you (Mina was the reason... ahem)

and they always tried to involve you both more to bring you closer together.

This event was no different as they made sure you two were close to each other, leaving the couch for you to sit on together.

(Kaminari was included to sit next to Kirishima just to make it less suspicious.)

Now, in the middle of the movie, just like Shoto, he couldn't focus at all.

He was just captivated by the little sounds you made whenever an exciting scene came up or your eyes sparkled with interest at what was shown on the screen in front of you.

He was literally in his own world, worshiping your facial expressions and your gentle demeanor.

But at some point, he stopped paying attention to you, replacing it with discussing the details of the movie with Kaminari. Then, in a sudden moment, he felt something land on his chest... it was your head.

The boy quickly covered his mouth to suppress the scream that was about to burst from the depths of his heart.

In contrast to the two above, he had a quick response as he gently shook your shoulder.

"Y/n, y-you awake?" His voice came out as a somewhat quiet tune, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Sorry... feeling sleepy... just... a little nap." After that, you held onto his arm and used his muscular chest as a pillow, drifting back to sleep.

Because of your action, his quirk activated for a few seconds, and he slapped his own face out of embarrassment and happiness he felt.

Your sudden move caught the red-haired boy off guard to the point he didn't know how to react :(

"Yes, of course... it wouldn't be manly of me to move and disturb you," he muttered to himself in embarrassment, stiffening in his position before wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer to him.

But he forgot about Kaminari, who saw everything and struggled to suppress his laughter as he ran away, catching the attention of the class, only to stare at both of you in awe and admiration.

All I can say is that by tomorrow, you'll see plenty of pictures taken of you sleeping on Kirishima, and his friends endlessly teasing him about it.

Then get ready for his confession of his feelings for you.

ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ

ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ

sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.

[stinkyturd]

Sweet Wishes

Haru Sagara/Reader

Comments: Spicy? At what point do I say it's NSFW? Would have made this longer guys, but I got a Fever Dreams Chappie to get on. Featuring 90's classic anime nosebleeds. Some of you may not be old enough to get it, bahaha.

"Did you ever find your soul mate, Dandelion?"

Towa sits with you under the stars near the Jabberwock House. The two of you had been sprawled out in the grass, looking for constellations, until the ball of sunshine popped the random question on you. Towa turns his head to meet your gaze, wearing an angelic smile. You wonder what prompted him to ask, as it had been months since he first brought it up.

"I think so," You reply. And you did, but it was more wishful thinking than anything.

Towa sits up, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Really? Who is it?"

"Well, I think it's entirely one-sided... so I don't know that soul mate is the right word, then," You explain with an airy laugh, staring up at the night sky.

Towa scoots forward, hovering his face a little too close over yours. "So? Who is it?"

Your eyes meet the Jabberwock vice-captain's again, as his face is now blocking your star gazing. "It's Haru."

Towa blinks, his mouth hanging open in awe at your admission. "Haru...?"

"Yup. He's really grown on me," You add.

You weren't sure exactly when you had first realized it. It was a gradual build up. After you were inspector for Jabberwock, you found yourself helping out Haru a lot when you had free time. The eccentric Captain had a ton on his plate and the other two members of Jabberwock didn't really pull their weight like Haru did, so you decided to drop by one afternoon. When you so quickly picked up on the routine and memorized all the anomalies feeding schedules and clean up times, Haru timidly asked you to return whenever you were available.

"Does he make your heart flutter, Dandelion?" Towa asks, tilting his head curiously.

"Yeah..." You say with a nod. "Haru's very caring and sweet. I like working with him and he's so easy to talk to. Plus, his nurturing nature towards the anomalies here really does something for me. I don't have a Daddy kink, but if I could call anyone Daddy, it'd be him. Ya know?"

Towa didn't know. He nods anyways.

"I've tried flirting with him, but it usually goes over his head. Or he's just swerving me," You ramble, mindlessly running your fingers through the grass at your side.

Towa hums, his expression pensive. Tilting his head up, he looks at the sky. "Dandelion, look...! It's a shooting star." The Jabberwock vice-captain points at said star's location.

You follow his line of sight and he's right. "It is, isn't it?"

"Make a wish, Dandelion."

"Hmm... I wish Haru would notice me. As a potential romantic interest," You say aloud.

Towa giggles. "If you say it out loud, it may not come true."

"Whoops. Maybe, next time."

"That's okay," Towa starts, looking back down at you. "I think I can help make your wish come true."

"For real?" You wonder what the little ball of sunshine has in mind.

Towa nods, getting to his feet. "I think so."

"Haru, (Y/N) says you're her soul mate."

Haru sits on the floor in the main living area of the Jabberwock house, portioning out bags of feed for the next day. The Captain is currently concentrating on resetting the scale he is using for the task and the darn battery must have been going out, because the tare function had been acting up.

"That's nice, Towa," Haru replies, though it's evident he's not really listening. The red-head sighs in exasperation, flipping over the scale and opening the back compartment that held the battery.

You had already left for the night back to the cathedral and Towa is determined to get the ball rolling with making your wish come true.

"Did you really hear me?" Towa persists, peering over his shoulder.

Haru pulls out the dead battery from the scale. "Yes, yes I did! Now, can you help me with this please, Towa? There's batteries in the drawer by the kitchen sink."

"Hmph..." Towa puffs out his cheeks. Towa knows Haru didn't hear him, but he goes to get the batteries for the Captain, anyway. Once he pulls two out of the drawer and brings them back, he holds them out to Haru in the palm of his hand.

"Thanks, Towa!" Haru takes them from him, his lips pulling into an appreciative smile. The Jabberwock Captain makes haste to change them out so he can be done portioning within the hour.

"(Y/N) says she would call you Daddy," Towa deadpans.

Haru drops the scale in his hands onto the floor, causing the cover he just set to pop out again. The Captain tilts his head up at Towa, his jaw going slack. "W-W-WHAT...?!"

Towa beams, nodding fervently.

"T-TOWA...! T-That's not funny! Don't joke like that, my poor heart will explode! Who will care for Peekaboo, then?" Haru dramatically motions his hand over to the rabbit-like anomaly, sitting idly in it's playpen.

"But it's true," Towa protests.

"Do you even know the implication of that word? You can't just go around saying things like that," Haru chastises, his voice gradually getting calmer as he replaces the cover again.

Towa exhales. "...I didn't say it first."

"If you hold the bags open, I can pour the feed in and we can tag team this faster! Easy peasy," Haru suggests, completely dodging any more talk of the subject.

"...Fine, okay."

Towa resigns, sitting by his Captain's side. He would try again later.

--

Attempt Two.

A few days later, you're once again at the Jabberwock House. It was now evening. After your classes, you had come to help after Haru sent you a text asking for your assistance. You had been there since the early afternoon. The Jabberwock Captain recently had said something about winding down for the night and said he would be right back. Currently, you sat in an armchair looking over your emails on your phone.

"Dandelion."

Glancing up, you find Towa in front of you, holding out his hand.

You shoot him a skeptical glance, but you place your hand in his anyways. "What's up, Towa?"

"Come with me," Towa urges, gently pulling at your arm. "I have something to show you."

"Uh... sure." That is vague, but unsurprising coming from the source. You get to your feet and allow Towa to pull you along.

Towa drags you around the house for a bit, sprinting in between rooms. At first, you wonder if there is any real destination in mind and by the time you become suspicious enough to ask, the vice-captain stops in front of a door. If you're not mistaken, you're pretty sure it's one of the bathrooms.

You flit your dubious gaze on the white-haired man. "Uh... you need to pee, Towa?"

Towa giggles and shakes his head. The vice-captain opens the door, ushering you in, before shutting it behind you.

"--What the heck, Towa?" You blurt out, tilting your head in the direction of the now shut door behind you.

You hear movement from somewhere within the room. Looking forward, you make an attempt to spot the source of the disturbance.

Okay, so the steam emanating around the room makes it obvious that this bathroom is in use, or had just been used. Directly in front of you is a partition separating the changing area from the soaking area. And you happen to spot a few articles in the hamper just to the side of you that look awfully familiar.

A flashy orange jumpsuit, in particular.

Subconsciously, you think back to Towa's promise a few days ago. He couldn't have...

Footsteps pad from behind the partition, approaching where you stand. You know you should turn heel while you still can, but your pervy temptations take over and you stay grounded. Besides, Towa brought you in here! Anything that happens after is the consequence of circumstances entirely out of your control. You were just an innocent bystander who--

Haru appears from behind the divider, humming a tune that sounds vaguely familiar. Save for the wrapped bandages around his right arm and the small towel around his waist, he's completely nude. Haru's toned musculature is completely bare for you to admire. All those countless hours tending to the little farmland the young man had cultivated, really paid off. In fact, so much so, you're pretty sure you feel blood draining from your nose. Haru has yet to notice you so far. Right now, he's smiling pleasantly and pulling his clean clothes off a hook attached to the wall.

It wasn't until Haru slips his shirt on that he spots you from the corner of your eye. The Captain yelps in surprise. "AAAGH! W-WHAT ARE YOU...?!"

You watch as the Jabberwock Captain's face flushes a deep shade of crimson. Your heart beats violently in your chest when you realize he's getting closer to you, his shock faltering into a look of concern.

"(Y/N)...! Y-You're bleeding!" Haru brings a hand to your face, a look of panic on his own. "Are you okay?! I can get you a washcloth to clean that up! Stay right there!"

You stand there like the pervy goblin you are, as Haru rushes on the other side to get a cloth to clean your face. Closing your eyes, you inhale sharply. You thank whatever deity that may be looking out for you. There must be one, for you to have been blessed with such a sight. Or maybe you should just thank Towa.

A very warm, damp, cloth pats your face. You lean into the contact unconsciously, finding comfort in the heat. A hum of contentment escapes you.

"I should have shown you where the rest of the bathrooms are! And I forgot to lock the door, looks like, too," Haru clicks his tongue, making a displeased sound. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this! Ah, I really ought to be more careful."

"Don't apologize. I would have been thoroughly disappointed had I showed up any later," You say. It's meant to be flirtatious, obviously, but…

Haru nods, pressing his lips into a thin line as he finishes cleaning your face. "Right? I wouldn't have been able to find a washcloth for you!”

"..."

"Do you need me to take you to Mortkranken? I can, if you need to," Haru offers, tossing the now bloody cloth into the hamper next to him.

"No, it will be fine. Probably just the uh… weather changes. Between houses," You fib. “... Anyways, I'll let you finish getting ready.”

Haru regards you skeptically, before nodding. “Well, if you're sure!”

–

Attempt Three.

“Hey, honor student.”

“Hey, Ren,” You reply back, not diverting your eyes from the paperwork in front of you. A few days have passed since the bathroom incident took place. At the moment, you were going through vaccination records for the anomalies. You were trying to figure out which ones were due for their newest rounds.

“Here,” Ren says, tossing something at your side. Paper crinkles as the object lands, and you shift your attention to focus on it. It's a bouquet of assorted flowers, wrapped neatly in decorative paper.

You glance up at Ren, your lips quirking into a mischievous smirk. “Trying to confess to me, huh?”

Ren rolls his eyes. He plops down on the loveseat across from you, returning his attention to the handheld gaming device in front of him. “Read the card on it. It's not from me.”

“Oh…? Where'd you find it?” You peel back the paper surrounding the bouquet and pick up the card.

“Was on the porch,” Ren replies simply.

“To (Y/N), with love Haru,” You read aloud.

It's from Haru?

“Why would Haru leave this outside, though…?” You wonder.

“Dunno,” Ren says with disinterest. “Maybe he got shy. He's still outside trimming those weird sheep anomalies.”

Well, if this was really from Haru, you were absolutely ecstatic. A blush crept up your neck at the idea of him arranging the flowers. Did Towa help him? Were they sorted by meaning? Either way, you're going to thank him.

You get to your feet, flowers in hand, with intention to look for the Jabberwock Captain. Exiting the house, you walk through the grass and head towards the part of the field that Haru typically shears at. After a few minutes of searching, you spot him kneeling in the grass as he bags up piles of wool.

“Haru…” You call out as you approach him.

The red-head glances up at you, a smile spreading across his features. Haru stands up, dusting himself off. “Heya, (Y/N)! Whatchya got there?”

Assuming he's being coy, you walk right up to him and wrap your arms around his waist, eagerly pulling him into an embrace. “Thank you, Haru! You're so sweet!”

Haru yelps in surprise at the sudden contact, though he doesn't make any attempt to shy away. “Ah… You're welcome, (Y/N).” The Jabberwock Captain timidly wraps his arms around you, returning the hug. Though, he notably pats your back in a comforting gesture like you're his cousin, or a younger sibling, rather than a love interest. “... But what are you thanking me for, exactly?”

Haru does sound genuinely confused. Shit.

“Oh…” You lean back slightly, looking up at him. “Um… You didn't leave me these flowers?”

“Flowers…?” Haru repeats, his lips downturning slightly.

You step back, reluctantly parting from the contact to hold the bouquet and card out to him. “These?”

Haru takes the card from your hand and reads it. After a beat, the Jabberwock Captain sighs, shaking his head. “I'm sorry, (Y/N). This is Towa's handwriting.”

So, that's it.

Towa must be still trying to fulfill his promise. It's cute and you appreciate it, but you do feel a little disappointed. Maybe you should just be even more direct with Haru to save the vice-captain the trouble?

“Oh, I see,” You mutter, making an effort to sound particularly bummed out by the revelation.

“Yep. I'm not sure what's gotten into that little rascal lately! Maybe he's trying to tell you something, but he's embarrassed?” Haru guesses, but you know he's grasping at straws.

“Towa isn't shy,” You say point blank. It was true. The guy puts his face centimeters away from yours on a regular basis. Haru knows it too!

Haru laughs weakly, scratching the back of his head in a nervous manner. “Well, you caught me there! I'm not sure what's up with him, but I'll let him know that it's not nice to play tricks like that on you.”

“Haru, I think I need to tell you something,” You start with determined resolve.

The Jabberwock Captain's expression shifts into a more serious one, maybe because of the tone in your own voice. A bullet of sweat drips down Haru's cheek. “... Okay. You can tell me anything, (Y/N.)”

Just as you're about to open your mouth, a thunderous noise reverberates from somewhere behind the two of you. Haru flips around to identify the source and you follow his gaze.

For whatever reason– probably a petty one– Towa was in the background summoning lighting on the Capybus again. The now burnt creature groans blaringly, before collapsing to the ground. You feel the earth quake underneath you on impact and Haru immediately begins sprinting towards the vice-captain’s side.

Turning his head for a brief moment, the Jabberwock Captain shouts back at you. “Hold that thought, (Y/N)!”

You watch as Haru begins scolding Towa for his mischievous behavior and makes an attempt to tend to the defeated mammoth sized creature. Needless to say, the whole debacle took longer than anticipated to resolve.

You didn't hold that thought.

–

Attempt Four.

You had just returned to the cathedral not even an hour ago. The classes scheduled today had come to an end and you were now sitting at your couch in your room, reading a book. A vibration on the coffee table breaks your attention from the novel in front of you. Leaning forward, you pick up your phone and notice a text notification from Haru. You open the message without hesitation.

‘Please come over tonight so we can have a date! 🥰🥰🥰’ 2:22 pm

Holy shit. Is this for real?

‘Yes, okay. What time?’ 2:22 pm

You wait with anticipation for probably another several minutes before another text comes in.

‘I'm so sorry, (Y/N)! Please disregard that message. (╥﹏╥) Towa took my phone and just started typing smzjdjwnsvehwjsv.’ 2:27 pm

Damn. Well, you can't say you're too surprised. But why let this opportunity go to waste? You almost confessed to him not that long ago, anyway.

‘Really? I was really hoping it was for real this time 😫💔!’ 2:27 pm

This time, a reply doesn't come for so long that you begin reading again.

‘Haha! Always goofing around, I like that! I'll make sure to put a lock on my phone so it doesn't happen again. Sorry for the trouble! ヅ’ 2:39 pm

‘Haru, I'm not joking.’ 2:39 pm

Surely. SURELY he can't dodge this one. You even left out emojis this time!

A minute or so later, your phone starts ringing. Haru is calling you.

Promptly, you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. “Good afternoon, Haru~”

You hear background noise on the other end. It's distorted, but you're pretty sure it's the nonsensical jabber coming from some of the anomalous farm animals. “(Y/N), I got your text. I wanted to call you to be sure of your tone before responding properly!”

“That's very cute of you,” You flirt shamelessly.

You hear Haru's adorable nervous laughter on the other end. “Aaah, I try? Actually, no wait! I wasn't trying there. Scratch that!”

“I really like you, Haru,” You confess with conviction. “I don't want you to mistake my text as a joke. I wanted to tell you a few days ago, before Towa zapped the Capybus. And Towa knows too.”

You can practically hear the nervous panic in the Jabberwock Captain's voice. “Aah, really? I guess that explains a lot, haha… Okay. Let's do this properly, then.”

You feel your stomach flip at his words.

“You can come over tonight and we can have dinner. How does that sound?” Haru asks.

“That sounds like a dream,” You reply.

“Ahaha, you're such a flatterer…! Come by around seven? I will make us something! But it probably won't be done until around eight, I think. I just don't want to make you walk around past dark!”

Ugh, he's so cute.

“Okay. I would love that, Haru.”

“GYAAH…! Wait, come back here!” You hear Haru shout at an anomalous animal. “Sorry. I'll talk to you later, (Y/N). Gotta bounce!”

“No problem, see you soon.”

With that, you end the call and immediately run towards your wardrobe to plan your outfit for the night.

You arrive at the Jabberwock House around the planned time. Usually, you would just barge in, but this time you're practicing date etiquette, so you knock on the door and wait.

You definitely made sure to put effort into your appearance this time. Before arriving, you went to the trouble of applying makeup and even styling your hair. Most of the time, you didn't do either. After all, when you weren't taking classes or running errands for Darkwick, you were getting all sweaty tending to the farm at Jabberwock.

Accompanying your glam, you chose a modest dress and cardigan to go over it. You wanted to make it obvious that you were serious about this for the dense Captain, but didn't want to do so much that he would find it off putting.

It didn't take long before Haru opened the door. He was wearing his normal casual wear, with an apron over it all. Haru even had oven mitts on, likely from still being in the process of cooking.

God he's so…

“(Y/N)...! Sorry for the wait–” Haru's words die in his mouth, as he assesses your appearance. “Aah… t-this is really happening isn't it?”

You take a step inside, boldly standing just inches from him. It wasn't as if you hadn't gotten close to him before, but this is the first time he understood your intentions.

“Need help?” You ask, your lips tugging into a playful smirk.

Haru closes the door behind you, staring down at you rigidly. “I, uhm… N-No, I can take care of it! You look so cute! I'm sorry, I didn't have much time to dress nicer.”

“You look very handsome, as always,” You assure him.

You can't help but notice that he spritzed some cologne before your arrival. Traces of sandalwood and amber fill your nostrils at the proximity. If Haru had the idea to use cologne, he must have planned on getting close like this, right? The mere notion leaves your heart hammering like a drum.

“Ah, you really think so?” Haru asks and the question sounds sincere. Like he hasn't the faintest clue of the effect he has on you.

“Of course.” You slip your arms around his waist, pulling him into a gentle hug. “It's been a couple of days since I've seen you. I really missed you.”

Haru's heart beats rapidly against his chest, so loud that you can easily hear it right now. “I really missed you too, (Y/N),” The Jabberwock Captain replies, his voice raising an octave at the admission. This time, he returns the hug without patting you platonically.

The sound of the stove going off startles Haru out of the embrace. “Oh! I'll be right back, the oven is preheated.” The Captain begins walking briskly towards the kitchen.

You look around. There's currently no sign of Towa, Ren, or even Peekaboo. That makes you wonder if they already know about your date. You remove your shoes and make your way over to the couch, before plopping down.

It wasn't long before Haru returned, frantically making his way over to you. The Captain sits to your left, a few feet from you, reaching for the remote to the tv on the coffee table. He immediately relinquishes it to you. “Ah, here! You can pick whatever you want to watch.”

You hum, pointing the remote in the direction of the TV. It rested on top of an entertainment center in the middle of the room. Clicking the power button on, you watch the television come to life. “What do you like to watch, usually?”

“It's been so long since I've had time, I can't really remember!” Haru admits, laughing awkwardly. “I will be okay with anything, though.”

“I'll hold you to that,” You tease. Daringly, you scoot right next to Haru to where your hips are touching. An audible gulp sounds from the man next to you when your legs meet.

“Where's Peekaboo?”

“... I pleaded with Ren to watch him for the evening,” Haru answers. He regards you tentatively, as if he's not sure what to do with his hands.

“I see.” Helping him out, you lace your fingers with his left hand as you look for a streaming platform. “Is this okay?” You ask for his permission softly.

“Yes! Yes, of course it is!” Haru attempts to relax back into the couch behind him, though his posture remains somewhat rigid– you can only assume from nerves.

He is too freaking cute.

Following by example, you settle yourself back into the couch cushion, then nestle your head against Haru's shoulder. This was seriously the pique of comfort and you couldn't be any more elated. You randomly select a movie, a thriller you think. The description hadn't been interesting enough to hold your full attention before you played it, though you're not sure anything could right now.

At some point during the intro of the movie, you feel Haru's free hand slip onto your partially exposed thigh. Butterflies stir in your stomach as you observe his gloved thumb rubbing small circles against your skin.

“Haru,” You say.

The Jabberwock Captain stills his hand, for the moment. “Y-Yes…?”

“Did you feel anything for me before I confessed to you today? Romantically.”

Haru haltingly resumes the subtle movements of his fingers against your skin. “Ah… it might be more strange if I didn't. You are always helping me, even when I know you have your hands full. You're so good with Peekaboo and the other animals. And you're very pretty, (Y/N).”

You absorb his answer for a while after he says it. Your eyes are unfocused on the movie playing in front of you. Some guy is getting his ass kicked on screen. You're pretty sure you don't even know the main character's name.

“You could have told me that all those times I was hitting on you, ya know,” You tease.

“I-I wasn't sure if you really meant it,” Haru counters.

“You're so cute.” Craning your head forward, you land a chaste kiss on the closest place your lips would land in your current position. That place happens to be the side of Haru's neck.

The Jabberwock Captain's hand clamps firmly on your thigh as he gasps involuntarily from the contact. Warmth crawls up the base of his neck and you admire with satisfaction as the tips of his ears turn bright red.

“Y-You really know how to make a fella nervous,” Haru remarks, a nervous chuckle tumbling from his mouth.

You nestle yourself back into his side, thoroughly amused by his jitters. “Don't be, it's just me. We can just watch the movie and I'll let up… for now.”

The last bit of your sentence was meant to be glib, rather than a reflection of your actual intentions, but Haru appears even more restless after the words leave your mouth. You return your attention towards the screen ahead. It takes a bit of time, but eventually his heart rate slows to a more normal pace as he relaxes fully into the cuddling.

You're not sure what Haru has in the oven, but it's taking a while. The movie you picked was boring enough that it wasn't really holding your interest. Hopefully Haru liked it more than you did. The warmth of the kind Captain at your side brings so much solace and relief that you find yourself inevitably drifting off to sleep.

By the time you wake, the lights are already off, but the dimly lit screen of the flat screen just ahead, illuminates the room you're in. Something else plays, it looks like an animation you don't recognize and the volume is now exponentially more quiet. You're also in a new position, lying your head on a throw pillow, with a thin blanket covering you. And you happen to be laying on your left side. You must have been moving around a lot in your sleep.

Shit, wasn't Haru cooking something for the both of you? And you went and dozed off for how long?

Mild panic settles in and you really hope you didn't offend the Jabberwock Captain. You knew it was highly unlikely that was the case, but this was your first date. Haru probably wouldn't often have the time for such things. Where was he, anyways?

You're about to sit up when you feel a hand move to your hip. Said sneaky hand begins tracing small languid circles, not dissimilar to the ones you felt earlier. Though, this time it felt more suggestive based on your current position. You're so touch starved at this point that you begin to feel heat pool in your loins from something most would consider so kosher.

Haru must be lying behind you. And who else? Certainly not Towa. He was touchy but you can't imagine he'd do this considering how you felt about Haru. You want to turn around to confirm, but for some reason that typical bravado you try to maintain around him is completely flopping right now. Maybe you could try to ask.

“Haru…?”

The hand, now on your waist, stills. But it doesn't leave. “Oh, you're awake. I hope this is okay. You were flopping around like a fish once you fell asleep, so I tried to make it more comfortable for you,” Haru explains, amusement lacing his voice.

The idea of him still taking care of you long after you had fallen asleep on him makes your stomach do backflips. How was this man so effortlessly sexy without even trying? Is it too soon to start making advances? Because at this point, you don't know what to do with yourself.

“Haru, I don't mean to alarm you, but I'm warning you now. I'm extremely turned on right now.”

You swear you hear the Jabberwock Captain choke on air behind you at the declaration. “... O-Oh?” Haru's hand tenses on your waist.

“I'm going to turn around. If you have any objections, you should let me know now,” You warn.

Haru remains silent for a few moments and for a second you worry that you're about to be rejected. “... No. No objections from this guy.”

Without hesitation, you flip around on your side. Haru's face is just inches from yours, his expression a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. He's flushed beautifully as he peers back at you. You pull your hands up from underneath the blanket cloaking the both of you, then delicately bring them to cup his face.

“So sweet,” You murmur as you close the distance fully, joining your lips with his.

Haru responds immediately, scooping you in as close as possible with his left hand. He returns the kiss eagerly, abandoning all shyness he may have felt moments before.

Haru's lips taste like lavender salve, something he must have put on in preparation for your date to cure any chapped skin that may have been there before. You don't mind. Your lips continue to interlock with his over and over again in an onslaught. Eventually, you find yourself wrapping your arms around the Jabberwock Captain's neck, searching for a closeness that only intertwining souls might achieve.

Haru takes the initiative, slipping his tongue past your lips, coaxing you to take it all a step further. And you oblige, tilting your head as you press yourself flush against him, allowing the kiss to deepen. Haru is warm, he tastes like spearmint. Haru is inviting, like the sun. You want to explore the light he radiates and the heat that comes with it.

You feel your cardigan begin to slip from your shoulders. You're so preoccupied with the fervid makeout session that you don't even realize that Haru is peeling it away on his own. It wasn't until the red-head broke the kiss to relocate his lips to your neck that you piece it all together. You gasp for air, partially from the lack of it during your heated exchange. But mostly because you feel his tongue press against your throat as he litters you with countless clumsy kisses. You feel his teeth graze once your twice, each time it elicits a pathetic whimper from your lungs.

“Fuck, Haru. I want you,” You blabber out, mindlessly.

Maybe it was reckless, considering you just addressed your feelings. But how the hell do you just stop now?

Haru, who had already been making his kisses trail farther down to your clavicle, barely separates himself from you to respond. His voice comes out raspy. “Y-You… You're sure?”

It seems almost ridiculous to ask such a thing, considering that you're already hyper aware of the tent having formed in his pants that was now pressing invasively against your thigh.

“I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my life,” You deadpan.

Haru hums in contentment, wrapping his arms securely around you as he buries his face into your chest. “Anything you want, I'll be happy to be of service,” He murmurs against you.

You're seriously in love with him.

Just when you're about to continue getting this show on the road, the overhead light flickers on. The sudden change in the room's brightness startles Haru enough to sit upright from you.

“It worked!” Towa declares from the front entrance. The ball of sunshine is beaming brightly after he voices his snap judgment assessment of your compromising position. You suppose there is nothing else to think, with Haru basically on top of you.

“GYAAAH…!” Haru removes himself from you so quickly that he almost stumbles off the couch. “T-TOWA, AT LEAST ANNOUNCE YOURSELF! HOW LONG WERE YOU THERE?”

Towa merely snickers impishly, blatantly ignoring the question directed at him to address you. “I'm glad your wish came true, Dandelion!”

Your face burns bright, but you manage a smile, paired with an awkward chuckle. Sitting up fully yourself, you respond to him. “Yeah, you're like a real life fairy, Towa.”

“What wish?” Haru interjects, cluelessly.

Towa’s face splits into a shit-eating grin before he bolts up the steps.

“H-Hey, wait you didn't answer…!” The protest dies in Haru's mouth as his vice-captain makes a hasty retreat. “Aaah, and he's gone.”

“Pfffft,” You stifle a laugh when you notice Haru's aghast expression. “Well… in his defense, this isn't the most private place to be fooling around at.”

Haru lets out a breathy sigh. “Yeah, you're right.” The Captain gets to his feet, holding his hand out for you to take. “My room?”

Your heart flutters, as you admire him in the now bright light. Placing your hand in his, you nod. “Kay.”

Once the two of you begin to make your way to Haru's bedroom, he pops the question again.

“So what was the promise Towa mentioned?”

[darlingsblackbook]

Start of something new

Nanami Kento x Reader

Summary : After admiring the blonde from afar for a long time, you two have finally been assigned a mission together. What happens when trying to impress him goes wrong?

Warnings : Ugly curse, Nanami getting hurt, reader getting hurt. Not a lot of angst ( for the first time )

AN : This was not what I had in mind, I wanted angst but my hands had other plans and wrote this instead.

°•♡○° Masterlist °○♡○°

Being a jujutsu sorcerer wasn’t a job anyone took lightly. It wasn’t like the flashy, glorified superhero stories you’d see in movies. It was brutal, unforgiving, and most of all, lonely. We lived with death breathing down our necks every day, knowing that one wrong step could mean the end. But somehow, despite the constant danger, I found myself thinking about something—or rather, someone—far more distracting than any curse I’d faced.

Nanami Kento.

He wasn’t like the others at Jujutsu High. He wasn’t playful or reckless like Gojo, nor was he filled with the raw energy that fueled some of the younger sorcerers. Nanami was calm, composed, and, in many ways, distant. He treated sorcery like a job—nothing more, nothing less. He showed up, did his duty, and left. Simple. Efficient.

And yet, there was something about him that drew me in.

Maybe it was his strength. Or maybe it was his quiet sense of integrity, the way he carried himself like he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders but never letting it break him. I’d watched him from a distance for months, admiring how he handled every mission with precision and control. There was a certain allure to his predictability, his steadfastness in a world that often felt like it was crumbling around us.

But I’d never spoken to him beyond a few short exchanges. Nanami wasn’t the type to engage in small talk or idle chatter, and frankly, I wasn’t either. Still, I couldn’t help the flutter in my chest whenever he walked past me in the hallways, his sharp gaze always focused ahead, never lingering on anyone or anything that wasn’t important to the task at hand.

That’s why, when I was assigned to a mission with him, my heart raced for reasons that had nothing to do with the danger we were about to face.

The mission itself was standard enough on paper: locate and exorcise a curse that had been terrorizing the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t supposed to be anything out of the ordinary, just another day of risking our lives to maintain the fragile balance between the human world and the malevolent forces lurking in the shadows.

But there was something about working with Nanami that made the air feel heavier, like every step I took had more weight than it should.

“You’re unusually quiet today.”

His voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I realized I’d been staring at the ground as we walked through the city streets. I glanced up at him, trying to gauge his expression, but as always, his face was unreadable, his eyes hidden behind the thin frames of his glasses.

“I guess I’m just thinking,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended. I wasn’t lying, though—thinking was pretty much all I’d been doing since the moment I found out we were going to be working together.

Nanami didn’t respond immediately. He rarely did. Instead, he kept his gaze forward, scanning our surroundings with the same meticulous attention he gave to every mission.

“There’s no need to overthink,” he said after a moment. “Focus on the task at hand.”

Of course. That was Nanami for you—always focused, always prepared. He probably thought I was nervous about the mission itself, which was partially true. But there was a different kind of tension bubbling under my skin, one I wasn’t sure how to handle.

We continued walking in silence, the city around us gradually thinning out as we approached the more desolate outskirts. The buildings here were older, crumbling in some places, and the air felt heavier, like it was saturated with negative energy. It wasn’t hard to see why a curse had taken root here—this place felt like it had been forgotten by the world, a perfect breeding ground for malevolent spirits.

“Stay close,” Nanami instructed as we neared the warehouse where the curse had been spotted.

I nodded, gripping the handle of my weapon tightly. I wasn’t a rookie—I’d been through plenty of missions before, but something about this one felt different. It wasn’t just the ominous aura surrounding the area or the fact that the curse we were hunting was stronger than usual. No, what made this different was the weight of Nanami’s presence beside me, his calm demeanor both reassuring and intimidating at the same time.

The warehouse loomed ahead of us, its rusted doors hanging loosely on their hinges. A thick, oppressive energy seeped from the cracks in the walls, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Nanami stopped just outside the entrance, his gaze fixed on the dark interior.

“This curse is stronger than the ones you’re used to,” he said, his tone as even as ever. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks. Stay behind me and follow my lead.”

I bristled slightly at his words. I knew he meant well—Nanami wasn’t the type to put others in danger carelessly—but it still stung to be treated like I couldn’t hold my own.

“I can handle myself,” I said, a little sharper than I intended.

Nanami glanced at me, his expression unreadable as always. He didn’t argue, but the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t convinced. Without another word, he pushed open the door, and we stepped into the dim, musty interior of the warehouse.

The air inside was thick with cursed energy, so heavy it felt like it was pressing down on my chest. Every breath I took felt like it was dragging through tar, and my pulse quickened as we ventured deeper into the building. Shadows danced along the walls, shifting unnaturally, and the faint sound of something wet and slimy echoed through the space.

Nanami moved with the same steady precision he always did, his cursed energy barely rippling the air around him. Meanwhile, I could feel my own nerves starting to fray. This place was wrong—every instinct I had was screaming at me to leave, to get out before it was too late. But I couldn’t back down now. Not with Nanami here. I couldn’t let him think I was weak.

“Over there,” he said, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence like a blade.

I followed his gaze to the far corner of the warehouse, where a figure was slowly emerging from the shadows. The curse was massive, its body shifting and writhing as though it was made of a thousand different parts stitched together. Its eyes—if you could call them that—glowed a sickly red, and its gaping maw was lined with rows of jagged, uneven teeth.

It let out a low, guttural growl, the sound vibrating through the floor beneath our feet. I tightened my grip on my weapon, steeling myself for the fight ahead.

Nanami didn’t hesitate. With a single fluid motion, he unleashed his cursed energy, his blade slicing through the air with precision and force. The curse let out a roar of pain as the attack connected, its body writhing in agony.

For a moment, it seemed like we had the upper hand. Nanami’s attacks were sharp, calculated, and I moved in sync with him, following his lead just as he’d instructed. We were making progress, slowly chipping away at the curse’s grotesque form.

But then, something shifted.

The curse’s body began to regenerate, faster than I’d ever seen before. The wounds Nanami inflicted sealed up almost instantly, and the creature’s energy surged, filling the space with a suffocating pressure. I felt it latch onto me, a cold, suffocating weight that wrapped around my chest like chains, making it impossible to breathe.

Before I could react, the curse lunged. Its massive form crashed into me, slamming me against the cold, hard concrete of the warehouse floor. Pain exploded through my side, and I gasped, struggling to regain my footing.

“Y/N!” Nanami’s voice cut through the haze of pain like a lifeline, but I could barely hear him over the blood rushing in my ears. My vision swam as I tried to push myself up, but my limbs felt heavy, unresponsive. The curse had pinned me down with a force that knocked the air from my lungs. I could feel the weight of its energy pressing into my skin, suffocating, burning.

This wasn’t just an attack—it was feeding off my fear.

I tried to summon my cursed energy, to push back against the overwhelming force, but nothing happened. My body wouldn’t cooperate. Panic clawed at my throat as the reality of the situation sank in—I was helpless.

No. I couldn’t let it end like this. Not like this.

I forced myself to focus, to pull what little strength I had left to fight back, but the curse was relentless. It loomed over me, its grotesque form shifting and writhing, as if it was made of pure darkness. Its red eyes burned into mine, mocking my weakness. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

Was this how it would end? Was this how I would die—trapped beneath a monster, unable to fight back, while Nanami was forced to watch?

Nanami.

I turned my head, searching for him through the haze of pain. He was still fighting, his cursed energy flaring as he slashed at the creature with precision, but the curse wasn’t giving him an opening. It regenerated faster than he could inflict damage, its body reforming almost instantly after every attack.

I knew he was strong. Nanami was one of the most skilled sorcerers I’d ever seen, but even he couldn’t fight something like this alone—not with me dragging him down.

“Stay behind me.” His words echoed in my mind, a bitter reminder that he’d known this would happen. He’d known the curse was stronger than anything I’d faced before, and yet I’d been too stubborn, too desperate to prove myself.

I should have listened. I should have stayed out of his way. Instead, I’d made things worse. Now, I was nothing more than dead weight, lying here useless while Nanami risked his life to save me.

The curse moved again, its massive body shifting as it turned its attention back to me. I could feel its energy surging, growing stronger as it prepared to strike. Fear twisted in my gut, paralyzing me.

I was going to die.

“No.” The word slipped from my lips, barely a whisper, but it felt like a scream in my head. I wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet. Not like this.

But my body refused to move. Pain radiated through my chest with every shallow breath, and my vision blurred as the edges of my consciousness began to fade.

Suddenly, a blur of movement crossed my field of vision, and before I could process what was happening, Nanami was there. He stood between me and the curse, his back to me, his body tense with determination.

"Stay down," he ordered, his voice as calm and controlled as ever, but there was something different this time. Something that almost sounded like urgency.

I wanted to argue, to tell him I could still fight, but I couldn’t get the words out. The weight of my injuries held me down, and all I could do was watch as he faced the curse head-on.

Nanami’s cursed energy flared brighter than I’d ever seen it, golden and fierce, as he raised his blade. He moved with a precision that took my breath away, every strike calculated, every movement exact. There was no hesitation, no doubt—only the sheer force of his will.

But even as he fought, I could see the strain in his posture. The curse was relentless, its energy growing more erratic with every second. And Nanami, despite his strength, was starting to falter.

I tried to push myself up again, my hands shaking as I braced against the cold, hard floor, but the pain in my ribs flared, sharp and unforgiving. My breath caught in my throat, and I collapsed back down, gasping for air.

Nanami didn’t turn to look at me. His focus was entirely on the curse, but I could sense the urgency in his movements. He was running out of time—we were running out of time.

The curse lunged at him, its massive form crashing down with a force that shook the entire warehouse. Nanami blocked the attack with his blade, but the impact sent him stumbling back, his feet skidding against the concrete.

I could see the curse’s grotesque form shifting again, its body warping as it prepared for another strike. This one would be stronger, more devastating. I knew, deep down, that if Nanami didn’t find a way to end this soon, he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.

Desperation clawed at my chest, mixing with the pain that had already taken root there. I couldn’t just lie here and watch him die. I couldn’t let this happen.

With a surge of adrenaline, I forced my body to move. I didn’t care about the pain, didn’t care that every breath felt like knives in my lungs. All I cared about was reaching Nanami before it was too late.

“Nanami!” I screamed his name, the sound raw and desperate, as I pushed myself to my feet. My vision swam, the warehouse tilting dangerously, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.

The curse struck again, its claws swiping through the air with deadly precision. Nanami dodged, but I could see the exhaustion in his movements, the way his breath came in short, sharp bursts. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

And then it happened—so fast I barely registered it.

The curse’s clawed hand lashed out, and Nanami wasn’t quick enough to avoid it completely. The blow connected with his side, sending him flying across the warehouse. He crashed into a stack of old crates, the impact shaking the ground beneath my feet.

“Nanami!” I screamed again, panic surging through me as I stumbled toward him.

He didn’t move.

The curse let out a low, rumbling growl, its red eyes glowing brighter as it turned its attention back to me. I froze, my heart slamming against my ribs as I watched it move, slow and deliberate, toward where Nanami lay.

No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. Not Nanami. Not like this.

I forced my legs to move, pushing through the pain as I ran toward him. My body screamed in protest, every muscle burning, but I didn’t care. I had to get to him. I had to—

A blast of cursed energy rippled through the air, and suddenly, the curse was thrown back, its massive form crashing into the far wall of the warehouse. I stopped in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat as I stared in disbelief.

Nanami was on his feet again, his cursed energy flaring like I’d never seen before. It surrounded him, lighting up the dim warehouse like a beacon.

He stood tall, his shoulders squared, his grip on his blade steady, despite the blood that dripped from the wound on his side. His expression was as calm as ever, but there was a fire in his eyes that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Stay back,” he said, his voice low and commanding. There was no room for argument.

The curse let out a guttural roar, its body shifting and writhing as it prepared for another attack. But Nanami didn’t give it the chance.

With a single, swift motion, he surged forward, his blade cutting through the air with lethal precision. The curse barely had time to react before he was on it, his attacks landing one after the other, each strike more devastating than the last.

The curse screeched, its body writhing in agony as it tried to regenerate, but this time, Nanami didn’t stop. He pressed forward, his cursed energy crackling through the air, overwhelming the creature with sheer force.

And then, with one final, devastating blow, Nanami brought his blade down, slicing clean through the curse’s core.

For a moment, everything was still. The curse let out one last, pitiful wail before its body dissolved into a cloud of dark, inky smoke.

It was over.

The warehouse was silent, the oppressive energy that had filled the space dissipating like a bad dream. My legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. The pain in my side was almost unbearable now, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was the man standing in front of me, his form silhouetted against the dim light.

Nanami stood there for a moment, his shoulders heaving with the effort of the fight. Then, slowly, he turned to face me.

His eyes met mine, and for the first time since this whole nightmare began, I saw something in them that I hadn’t expected.

Relief.

Without a word, he crossed the distance between us, kneeling down beside me. His hands were gentle as they carefully checked the wound on my side, his expression focused, but there was a softness in his gaze that made my heart ache.

“You’re hurt,” he said, his voice low and steady.

I tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. “So are you.”

Nanami’s lips twitched, just barely, before his expression returned to its usual stoic calm.

“Can you move?” he asked, his hand hovering over my shoulder as though he wasn’t sure whether to help me up or not.

I nodded, though the truth was, every part of me screamed in protest at the idea of moving. The pain was sharp and constant, radiating from my ribs and making it hard to breathe. But I refused to show weakness. Not in front of Nanami.

“I’ll manage,” I said through gritted teeth, forcing myself to sit up. My vision swam for a moment, and I bit back a groan, determined not to let him see just how bad it was. I didn’t want him to think I was a liability—not after everything.

Nanami watched me carefully, his eyes scanning my face as though he could see through the lie. “You need medical attention,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

I shook my head. “I’m fine.” The words tasted like a lie even to me, but I wasn’t ready to admit just how broken I felt. There was a deep sense of guilt gnawing at me. I’d nearly cost us the mission. If Nanami hadn’t been there, I might have been dead.

His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, his eyes softening just enough to make my chest tighten with something that wasn’t pain. Without a word, he extended his hand to help me up. I hesitated for a split second before placing my hand in his, allowing him to pull me to my feet. His grip was firm, steady—everything about him radiated strength and control.

But underneath it all, I could sense his exhaustion. His breath came in quiet, measured paces, but the way his shoulders sagged ever so slightly didn’t escape me. He was hurting too, no matter how composed he seemed.

“Nanami, I—" I started, but the words caught in my throat. What could I even say? I’d nearly gotten us both killed. “I’m sorry.”

Nanami’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he glanced at the ground, then back at me. There was no judgment in his expression, only a quiet understanding that seemed to weigh heavier than any scolding ever could.

“We’ll talk later,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “Right now, we need to get you to safety.”

The finality in his tone left no room for argument. Despite the lingering pain, I nodded and fell into step beside him as we made our way out of the cursed warehouse. Every step felt like fire lancing through my side, but I pushed through it, focusing on Nanami’s steady presence beside me.

The cold night air hit us as we exited the building, and I sucked in a deep breath, wincing as my ribs protested the movement. My body felt like it was going to collapse any second, but I kept walking. Nanami didn’t speak as we left the area, but he stayed close, his gaze flickering toward me every few steps as if to make sure I was still standing.

After what felt like an eternity, we reached a quiet, secluded area where the oppressive energy of the curse couldn’t reach us anymore. Nanami finally stopped, turning to face me.

“You need to rest,” he said, his tone leaving no room for debate.

I opened my mouth to protest, to insist that I was fine, but the look in his eyes stopped me. There was a weariness there, something deep and unspoken that made my chest ache. He wasn’t just talking about me—he was talking about both of us.

I nodded silently, sinking down onto the ground with a sigh of relief. The pain in my side flared as I sat, but at least now I wasn’t on my feet anymore. I leaned back against a nearby wall, closing my eyes for a moment as I tried to steady my breathing.

Nanami stood in front of me, his arms crossed as he looked out into the distance. For a long moment, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching between us like an invisible barrier. I wanted to say something—anything—to break it, but the words felt stuck in my throat.

Finally, Nanami turned his head slightly, glancing down at me. “You’re not weak, Y/N.”

The words caught me off guard, and I looked up at him, my eyes widening slightly. “What?”

“You’re not weak,” he repeated, his voice as steady as ever. “Today was difficult. But you didn’t back down.”

I blinked, trying to process what he was saying. “I almost got us killed.”

Nanami shook his head, his expression softening just enough to let me see the truth behind his words. “You did what you could under the circumstances. That’s all anyone can ask.”

The weight of his words hit me like a punch to the gut. I’d been so focused on my own failure, on the guilt that had been eating away at me, that I hadn’t even considered the possibility that Nanami didn’t see it that way. He didn’t blame me. He hadn’t written me off as weak or useless.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with emotion. “I just didn’t want to let you down.”

Nanami’s gaze softened further, and for the first time since we’d started the mission, I saw something like warmth flicker in his eyes. “You didn’t.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It was heavy with understanding, with a shared experience that didn’t need to be explained with words. Nanami wasn’t someone who gave praise lightly, but when he did, it felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest.

I took a deep breath, the pain in my side still present but more bearable now that the worst was over. “Thank you,” I said quietly, meeting his gaze.

Nanami nodded, his expression unreadable once more, but I could feel the sincerity in his silence. He didn’t need to say more—his presence was enough. In that moment, I knew that despite the horrors of the mission, we’d made it through. Together.

And that, somehow, was enough.

All Rights Reserved © 2024 DarlingsBlackBook

[avonne-writes]

can we hear more about absolutely jacked massive bucky and gale's reaction to this transformation

Re: this post 😄 Sure!

Bucky starts freshman year of college as a skinny, tall twink and gradually fills out his frame over the next few years. He always had strong legs for running but his thigh muscles get even thicker. The most noticable change is in his upper body, because he pretty much ignored that in high school but the new training program works on his arms, chest, back and shoulders too.

Gale enjoys this transformation. The first thing he notices is that the waist of Bucky’s trousers starts leaving red lines on his stomach, and that the sleeves of some of his shirts stretch around his biceps. He pays more attention to Bucky's looks then and the feel of his body when he moves on top of Gale, and he realizes just how much Bucky has changed in a few months already.

When they're not fighting anymore, one of his favourite things to do is making Bucky lie down half-naked (or naked 😏) on his stomach and giving him a massage. Bucky hates it and loves it at the same time, because his muscles are often tense and sore and he always whines that Gale has "mean hands", but then it gets good and he either falls asleep or gets turned on.

Gale likes to kiss and suck or bite marks on the inner side of Bucky's thighs, likes to mouth at his stomach and grope his arms. Bucky has more strength and stamina too, which makes sex even better than before.

But it's not just a turn-on. Sometimes, Gale gets so distressed about something (family/school) that he feels like his body hurts, but they find out that if Bucky climbs on him and lays his full weight on him, he feels better. He also loves it when Bucky hugs him from behind and he can lean back into him. This is something they always liked, but it feels even better after the change.

[celenawrites]

₊˚ෆ soulmate au, wherein you get to see the world through your soulmate's eyes and experience what they're feeling at that moment

awful editing(no beta), a lot of pov shifts, loads of grammar mistakes, description of violence, smut below the cut. 

just an idea i have been marinating in my drafts this month. 

MDNI.

the first time Simon Riley realizes he has a soulmate, he's 24 and well on his way to becoming a lieutenant. it's an early winter morning, filled with white fog and chilly breeze that seeps through the balaclava he wears while off duty. he's in the cold, congested room that has been assigned as his office and he's trying to catch up on the stack of paperwork that had accumulated while he was risking his lives on the front-line just to feel something.

the scene shifts with a few gradual blinks and he realizes he's not in his office anymore.

he's she's standing in the kitchen, brewing up a cup of tea while humming an old melody. he's awfully out of place here, and he almost thinks his mind is tricking him with a sudden daydream and then she pours out the tea into a green mug, and exits the kitchen - finally sitting down in what he assumes to be a living room.

she turns on the tv to watch some melodrama he doesn't know, as she carefully blows onto the mug to cool down the steaming liquid before carefully taking a sip. he feels the green tea trickle down his throat, warming him from inside. he can feel the cushion behind her back and the glasses that rest on the bridge of her nose. he can feel the tag on her shirt scratch the nape of his nick uncomfortably so.

the scene is serene and unfamiliar and he feels out of place - it is homely and clean and pure, not tainted with blood, violence and avarice. it is uncomfortable for him to watch her be good and domestic and kind, almost feels like he doesn’t deserve it after the life he’s led. and yet, with time, seeing the world through her eyes is warmly welcomed after a dud of a day doing what he's best known for - being a ghost.

and he almost feels sorry for her, whoever she is. he’s sorry for the man he is, for the soldier he is. he’s sorry that she gets a one-way front ticket to seeing him kill people without remorse. 

most of all, he’s sorry she had to end up with him. 

for you, seeing the world through your soulmate's eyes has been nothing short of a grim nightmare. every time you'd shift, you'd almost pray to God and cross your fingers to avoid seeing any of the gruesome scenes that he encountered almost on the daily. you cannot see his face, but you can feel how heavy the protective gear is against his body, how taut his shoulders are and you can feel the synthetic fabric of the gun strap dig into his shoulders and chest. you feel his hands touch the steel barrel of the weapon and your blood runs cold. it’s not long before he’s aiming the said gun at a man before shooting him dead without hesitating. the first time you witnessed him doing something this abhorrent, you ended up having a panic attack - still able to feel the weight of the gun in your hands, convinced that you’re the culprit who shot someone in cold blood. 

it’s not long before the scenes you witness through your soulmate’s eyes follow you even in your sleep. you’re taking melatonin, chamomile tea, antidepressants - anything to help you cope with the fact that having a soulmate like him means being haunted by gruesome visions for the rest of your life. it’s not long before your co-workers comment on your baggy eyes and frail health - even uniting together to urge you that taking a break would probably do you some good, but you turn them all down with a gentle shake of your head. 

and then, you meet Soap through him. scottish, demolition expert, part of the military. wild mohawk, likes to draw, always the victim of your soulmate’s dry jokes. Gaz - british, a sergeant, youngest of the lot, always willing to help, but has enough snark to keep up with Soap about the most ridiculous of things. and Price - captain of his team, with impressive mutton chops and loud sneezes. 

you see them relax around each other, see them drink tea, see Soap and Gaz banter and compete with each other at the training grounds - and this change of pace is far more welcomed than seeing people die on the battlefield. 

and then there’s him, a pariah. everyone he comes across calls him ‘Ghost’, which just sounds ridiculous. no one knows anything about him, but there are moments when you are where he is and you see Price’s eyes twinkle with something - but your lack of physical presence always hinders your curiosity about the subject. no one has really seen his face, and you fear that you’d never get to know the man who’s destined to compliment you in all aspects of life. 

there are moments though, when sharing vision and emotions with you, gets awfully overwhelming for him. it takes a lot to get a man of his stature to waver in his step, but you do that job perfectly. he sees you one day, in your bed with soft satin sheets failing to cover your body. he sees your hands trail down your body and his breath hitched when he feels you play with your cotton panties - before sliding them to the side and rubbing soft circles on your clit. he swears under his breath, trying to hold onto his sanity as it slowly slips away from him when you use your other hand to tease your nipples with skittish touches. it’s not long before Simon has locked himself up in the bathroom stall, using his hands to relieve the tension he has all because of you - matching his rhythm so that he comes at the same time as you. 

he wonders if your hands would feel softer. if you’d kiss him before begging him with those doe eyes to make you feel good. if you’d tell him that you love him. if you’d love him enough so that he can be anew  - without his past dragging him through the mud. 

if you’d lose yourself to him and let him piece you back together with the adoration he carries for you. you’re practically a stranger, and yet you’re the only person who can get to him. 

divider by @/cafekitsune

[tonysbed]

pages of horror | OP81

Oscar Piastri x autistic!reader

!AUTISTIC READER!

Summary: Oscar realised how burnt out you actually were..

warnings: burn out, stress, autism

mental health masterlist | main masterlist

Oscar Piastri was living his dream, racing on the global stage with the roar of engines and the thrill of the track fueling his every move. But alongside his meteoric rise, there was a quieter, equally remarkable story unfolding: that of his girlfriend, who was balancing the demands of university and the emotional rollercoaster of supporting Oscar’s racing career. She navigated her courses with determination and attended his races whenever possible, her dedication unwavering despite the toll it took on her.

For the most part, she managed to juggle it all. Early mornings spent in the library, afternoons filled with lectures, and weekends at the track. She found comfort in the routine, even as the demands increased. But as the semester wore on, the weight of it all began to bear down on her.

She was exhausted. Her mind, always so sharp, felt foggy. Simple tasks became monumental challenges. The sensory overload of the university, with its bustling crowds and endless noise, left her feeling raw and exposed. She was running on fumes, barely managing to keep up with her assignments and attend Oscar’s races.

Oscar noticed her growing fatigue but attributed it to the typical stresses of university life. "Everyone gets overwhelmed with school," he’d say, offering a reassuring smile. He’d seen other friends burn out, only to bounce back after a good night’s sleep or a weekend off. He figured she just needed a bit of rest.

But it wasn’t just school stress. It was everything. The constant pressure to excel academically, the sensory overload, the emotional strain of maintaining a long-distance relationship, and the physical exhaustion of travel. She was spiraling into a period of severe burnout, and Oscar’s well-intentioned but misguided reassurances did little to ease her burden.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, she broke down. The tears came unbidden, a flood of frustration, exhaustion, and despair. Oscar found her sitting on the edge of their bed, head in her hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, rushing to her side. "What's wrong?"

She tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. All the emotions she’d bottled up for so long were now threatening to overflow. Oscar wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she cried. For the first time, he truly saw the depth of her struggle.

"I’m so sorry," she whispered through her tears. "I’m trying so hard, but it’s all too much."

Oscar felt a pang of guilt. He’d been so focused on his own career that he hadn’t realized how much she was sacrificing, how much she was struggling. He kissed her forehead gently. "You don’t have to do this alone," he said softly. "We’ll figure this out together."

The next day, Oscar helped her arrange a meeting with her academic advisor. She explained her situation, and together, they came up with a plan to lighten her course load and provide the support she needed. Oscar insisted on taking her to every appointment, standing by her side as she navigated the university’s bureaucracy.

At home, Oscar made sure she took the time to rest. He ran her baths, the warm water soothing her frayed nerves. They spent quiet evenings together, watching movies or simply sitting in comfortable silence. He took over cooking and cleaning, ensuring she had one less thing to worry about.

Gradually, she began to recover. The fog in her mind lifted, and the overwhelming fatigue started to ebb away. She was still navigating the challenges of university and supporting Oscar’s career, but now she had the support she needed.

Oscar learned to recognize the signs of her burnout and took steps to prevent it, whether that meant encouraging her to take a break or simply holding her hand and reminding her that she wasn’t alone. They became a team in the truest sense, each supporting the other in their dreams and struggles.

And as Oscar continued to race towards new victories, he knew that none of it would be possible without the love and strength of the woman by his side.

[shadesslut]

Hi

Could u do a Ethen Landry × fem reader

Where reader and Ethan have been dating for a few months, and like reader and him have a fight (about whatever that's ur choice) while they were studying at his house.

And in anger reader leaved the house and goes to her house and like he attacks her as Ghostface but it was like just to prank her, and she gets shit scared and gets an asthma attack and like doesn't have her inhaler with her and like she had to get more inhalers so he panic and like runs to a pharmacy and gets her an inhaler, but when he's back she's past out.

You can choose what happens next

Thank you <33

🤍🤍

Hope you like it:)

i love you

Pairing: Mean!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Content Includes: Asthma attack, angst, fluff

Summary: Ethan decided to scare Y/N after a fight, it doesn’t end well.

Masterlist

✮

✮

✮

It had been two hours. Two fucking hours of Ethan studying. Y/N had been laying on his bed, randomly scrolling on her phone. She came over after her classes to work on an assignment for a class they shared, but after finishing, Ethan wanted to study for his Econ final the following day. Every thirty minutes, she would try to get him to spend time with her, rubbing at his shoulders and gently kissing his neck, and every time, he dismissed her.

“Ethan,” she whined, drawing out his name.

“What?” he mocked. His pen frantically moved across the paper as his head turned to his textbook and back to his notes.

She took a puff from her inhaler, which caused Ethan to turn around. His eyes looked tired, and his shoulders looked tense. Y/N knows how much Ethan hadn’t slept lately, the nights where she felt him slip out, presumably to work on school. What she didn’t know though, is that her perfect, shy boyfriend, was out killing.

“Can you take a break?” She asked as she sat up. He sighed and put pressure on his temples. “Do you need advil?”

He shook his head as he looked back up to her. He stood up and walked over to grab the water bottle on his night stand, taking a quick swig. “I think you need a break.” She suggested.

He groaned at her. “I need you to stop being so clingy.”

She was taken aback by his words, he had never snapped at her before.

“I’m..I’m not? I’m just worried about you.”

“Bullshit, you’ve been trying to get me to pay attention to you for the past hour.” Ethan argued as he sat back at his desk. His back was turned to her, but he could feel her gaze on him.

“Don’t be an asshole,” she muttered, getting up.

He let out a half tired half annoyed laugh. He rubbed his palms over his face. He genuinely wasn’t pissed with her; he had been stressed from his dad getting into his ass and his poor grades in classes. He did want to spend time with her, he was just…frustrated, in certain ways. He needed to let out his stress with some form of relief.

“I’m not being an asshole, I just have a shit ton of work.” Ethan grumbled.

She nodded and grabbed her purse. “Then I’ll just leave you to your work.” She spat before leaving, slamming the door.

—

On her way home, she clutched the strap of her purse. She felt her anxiety peaking, checking her phone for any messages.

Ethan kept behind her carefully, watching her intensely. He watched her turn a corner, and he checked around him to make sure they were alone. He slid his mask on and quickened his pace.

Y/N started looking through her purse for her inhaler, feeling each breath getting heavier and heavier.

“Shit.” She cursed once she realized she probably left it on Ethan’s bed.

Her eyes started to water from the overwhelming weight on her lungs.

She heard quick footsteps grow louder and louder behind her, and she pulled her pepper spray out. Ethan caught up to her, grabbing her by the shoulders and yelling “Boo!”

She screamed bloody murder and turned around, spraying towards him. He inhaled some of the spray, instantly coughing.

“What,” cough. “The.” cough. “Fuck?”

He took off his mask and coughed more. Y/N gradually fell to the ground and started to wheeze. She held her hand over her chest, gasping for air. Ethan looked at her after his coughing fit, and his eyes immediately widened. “Shit. Shit.”

He leaned down and went through her purse, desperately trying to find her inhaler. She gasped and wheezed as Ethan ransacked her purse. She felt tears spill from her eyes as she began to panic. Could this night go any worse?

“Fuck, there was a pharmacy near by. I’ll go, I’ll go get an inhaler.” He said quickly before getting up and running back around the corner. Her eyes followed him as his form disappeared, and her vision started to blur.

When Ethan came back, she was laid on the floor, eyes closed.

His eyes widened and he dropped down on his knees next to her. He shook her limp body and called out her name.

“No, no, fuck fuck no,” he cursed as he picked up her motionless body.

–

She woke up to a bright light shining in her eyes as she softly groaned. She moved her hand up to her eyes and gently rubbed them. She saw someone jerk their head up out of the corner of her eye, and she saw Ethan enter her peripheral vision.

“H-Hey! Are you okay? Do you need water?” He immediately asked, grabbing her hand.

She looked at him and blinked. “What happened?”

He gulped and looked down shamefully. “I- Uh,”

She thought for a moment, and she sighed as she remembered. He looked at her and knew she knew, and he waited anxiously for her response.

“I remember you scared me.” She said.

“Y-Yeah, I did. I’m so sorry. You started to panic, and I-I went to go get an inhaler for you, but I came back and you were-“ he stuttered, face heating up with embarrassment.

She grabbed his other hand and squeezed. “H-Hey it’s okay,” she said, softly smiling.

He shook his head at her. “It’s not, I was an asshole. I’m sorry, my dad has been such an ass, and I’ve been so stressed lately. It’s not an excuse, b-but I-“ he was cut off by her lips gently meeting his.

He sighed and relaxed his shoulders, kissing her back. She pulled away slightly and smiled.

“They said you were lucky I got you here when I did.”

“My hero,” she softly praised, making his ears turn red. She caressed his warm cheek with her palm, and she leaned forward and kissed his nose.

“Good.” He said smirking, tugging her towards him, kissing her harshly. She breathed heavily at a quicker pace, and she pushed him off of her, looking around the room.

“Here,” he said, offering her inhaler. She grabbed it and took a puff, slowing her breathing.

She thanked him and he nodded at her.

“I’m gonna have twenty of those on me everywhere we go now.” He joked, causing her to softly chuckle. She rested her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

“I really am sorry. I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you too.”

[crescent-blades]

"Everyone's carrying something that matters. You just don't realize when you're carrying it. It's only after it slips out of your hand that you realize how heavy it was in the first place. So many times I thought that I'd never carry a load like that ever again. And yet, before I realized it, I was carrying it again. I'd feel so much better if I just got rid of it. But I just can't bring myself to do it."

Was all this power really worth it? 

Once again, this question would loom in his mind, a contemplation that had now become his constant companion. All this immense strength he had fought so hard to attain was once a singular desire of his heart—it was the only thing that truly mattered to him; it was the only thing that would truly bring him peace. To become the strongest samurai in the land—a dream he had envisioned ever since he was a child. It was a weight that he carried ever since he was young. 

—Everyone carries something that matters. 

With each passing day, he fought against his own limitations; with every sunrise, he pushed himself further, extending his limits. Fractured bones, damaged muscle fibre, and the splinters and abrasions on his delicate hands gradually transformed into an increased muscle mass and rough callouses that now marked him. The repetitive motion of swinging the shinai, day in and day out, became a ritual, all in pursuit of a glimpse of that elusive power.    

The days would soon pass by, dragging on slowly, taking away his youth and turning him into a man who would eventually get married. All the duties that would now be placed on his shoulders, as he had now finally attained what he had long desired. This power.. everything he had worked for—as he ascended to a position of authority, commanding even those seasoned warriors who had once been his superiors. All this power.. that had drawn the gaze of rival lords and samurai, each one eager to claim his head. All this power that the commoners had learnt to fear throughout the generations; instinctively parting ways and bowing before him. All this power— 

And he sacrificed it all for more.

Soon, all of his burdens, his obligations—all this weight slipped away through his fingers like fine sand carried off by a gust of wind. He had achieved everything he had ever yearned for. As his six eyes surveyed the fallen swordsmen at his feet, their bodies sprawled across the ground—lifeless; only one remained, clutching a black blade, standing before him in complete solitude. Another lay marked for death by his blade. He was truly untouchable. The relentless struggle for power had now come to an end. 

No one could rival his might; he stood alone at the summit, like a solitary wolf among a herd of sheep. In this ruthless game, he walked a path devoid of allies or equals, for anyone who dared to approach him would inevitably disappear. And he would remain untouchable for many years to come..

For countless years and centuries, he would seek the finest warriors, travelling far and wide to seek the strongest within the lands. However, engaging them in combat felt like crushing ants. Yet still, day after day, he relentlessly pursued them, pulling time along in his wake, biding his moments until they reached their zenith. He even took it upon himself to train some of these warriors, nurturing their skills only to ultimately take their lives, all in the pursuit of an ounce of thrill, a worthy challenge, and soon—  

He knew that he was carrying that weight all over again.

A weight he had placed upon himself—a burden he understood would lift if only he could let it go. Time and again, he found himself reflecting on this, disappinted yet again as he clutched the entangled hair of the beheaded swordsman in his palm—weak, just like the rest. Just another offering to present his lord as was customary, as he found himself pondering once more—

 Was all this power.. really worth it?