#✧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ —— this is the last damn thing that i hold close to me ⌗ dalphahale ( allison x derek ) . | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wosospacegirl · 20 hours ago

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Matching stitches - Grace Clinton

Summary: Y/n can handle tough tackles and intense matches—but stitches? Absolutely not. After a head collision mid-match, the last person she expects to help her through it is Grace —her opponent.

Warnings: mentions of blood; hurt comfort; just a meet cute overall with a lot of found family and accidentally liking old pictures on ig hehe

Word count: 7k

MASTERLIST

The game was heated.

1-1 and both teams wanted to win.

Y/n didn’t see it coming.

She was close to the Manchester United goal, ready to assist either Alessia or Foxy. Leah had played a long ball to Y/n, who jumped as the ball got closer, ready to receive it.

As the ball came closer, Y/n felt the impact of a body against her, knocking her to the ground. She felt something sharp open her inner lip and hit her forehead.

She fell on the pitch, her back hitting the grass painfully. For a moment she couldn't breathe, her lungs aching from the impact.

“Fuck,” Y/n muttered.

The crowd fell silent.

Y/n could smell grass, blood and sweat. It was a mixture of smells that Y/n was used to, but at the moment it reeked.

Her whole body ached as if a knife were slicing through her lips and forehead. She tried to move her head, but that hurt too. She could not see who crushed her.

The Arsenal players came running as soon as Y/n’s hit the ground. A mix of familiar voices reached Y/n’s ear. They were all talking at the same time, but it was as if they made no sense, it was just a blend of words being thrown around.

“She’s fucking bleeding!” Y/n heard Leah’s voice. “Stop the game! Call someone!”

The referee hadn’t blown the whistle yet. Maybe they should because Y/n was not going to get up anytime soon.

Y/n felt lightheaded like she was going to pass out any time soon. She wanted to stay there on the pitch, the grass hugging her, even though it irritated her skin.

Okay maybe her brain wasn’t getting all the oxygen it needed. She felt dazed.

“There’s been a head clash here! Where are the bloody medics?”

Someone said Y/n wasn’t sure if it was Kim or Katie, maybe it was Jen. Oh no, Jen had retired a couple of seasons ago, hadn’t she? Wow, they really needed to get someone to help her out.

Her teammates, whether retired or not, sounded worried. Was it bad, maybe her injury was worse than she thought it was.

Y/n felt like she was dying, but her teammates usually just called her dramatic when she was tackled in a game.

Was she being dramatic right now?

She wasn’t sure. But she was tired though. And it hurt.

She wanted to rest. Maybe she should do that.

“No, don’t. Keep your eyes open,” Y/n felt the warmth of a hand holding hers, “They’re going to take you to the infirmary, okay?”

“Damn, she’s out.”

Was the last thing Y/n heard before everything went black.

“Y/n?”

Y/n forced herself to breathe. The air went in and out of her lungs, and her back didn’t hurt anymore, just the slight discomfort of being tackled and lying down on a hard surface.

Was she in a hospital? The bed she was in felt like a hospital bed. It was uncomfortable.

“Y/n, you need to open your eyes, I know you are awake,” the voice said again. It wasn’t familiar to Y/n, but it seemed to belong to an older woman.

Y/n tried to do what the woman asked her. She carefully opened one eye and then the other, but the lights in the room were too bright. She decided to close them.

Y/n didn’t remember exactly what happened. She was on the field playing, then someone crashed into her, and then she was out. She had a faint memory of Leah’s voice saying something to her as she was being carried off the pitch on a stretcher.

The first shock of pain hit her.

Y/n whimpered, bringing her hand to her lip and then to her forehead. Both places were wet and tender. Two very fresh bruises.

Medicine. Why hadn’t they given her some painkillers? If she was in a hospital, it must have been a bad one because she was in pain, her mouth tasted like iron.

Y/n tried to open her eyes again, the light was not as intense as before. She removed her hands from her face and looked at them, they were red.

Blood, fresh blood. She had been hurt and it hadn’t been long ago.

Why did it feel like days?

“Don’t look at it,” the older woman said, taking Y/n’s hands and cleaning them with a tissue.

“What hospital am I in?,” Y/n asked the woman.

“We're in the infirmary, the stadium’s infirmary,” another voice said beside Y/n. The voice was calm, not as energetic as the other women’s, and it was younger.

It was probably the person who had bumped into Y/n.

She was so disoriented that she hadn’t even noticed that someone else had been hurt as well. But if the pain on her face was any indication of how hard they had bumped into each other, the other player was probably in bad shape too.

She tried to turn her head around, but it hurt too much, so she just kept staring at the person in front of her.

Nurse Mary, the badge said. She had a kind, round face.

“Are you all right?” The younger voice said again.

Y/n tried to remember who the voice belonged to. She was being marked by Gabby George and Millie. T seconds before she was hit, but they were in front of her and the collision was caused by someone running to her side. So Y/n didn't see who it was.

Y/n turned her head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl, but the movement was too fast and nausea hit her stomach.

“Mary, I'm gonna throw up,” Y/n warned the nurse.

A few seconds later there was a bucket right next to her.

Y/n emptied her stomach. The vomit was mixed with blood from her new injuries and she just wanted to go home, put an ice pack on her face and pretend this day never happened, especially after throwing up in front of two strangers.

Nurse Mary patted Y/n’s back maternally. “It's okay, honey. You’ve got a concussion, it's normal to feel nauseous. Miss Grace here also had a concussion.”

Grace? Grace Clinton?

Great, she had puked in front of Grace Clinton. Not embarrassing at all.

Y/n had the vaguest recollection of seeing Grace in the tunnel as they walked to the pitch. She had her hair in a low bun and her shirt looked a size too big for her.

Grace was a midfielder for Man United, she was very young but very skilled. Y/n had never had the chance to talk to her before, but Leah had told her once that Grace was very calm on the pitch and that she should mark her, but not be too aggressive about it, as Grace herself had a chill style of play.

“You bumped heads during the game,” Mary continued. “It wasn’t too bad, so there was no need for an ambulance.”

Y/n felt like she had been hit by a whole bus, not just bumped heads. Clinton was strong, so it made sense that she was in so much pain from the collision.

“–But you Y/n got the worst of it, Grace’s teeth bit your inner lip open when you both fell,” Mary added.

Grace's teeth?

That explained why she felt like her lips were split open.

When Y/n opened her mouth to ask Grace if she was all right, a wet, cold cloth was pressed into her face.

“Ouch! Fuck, it hurts,” Y/n said angrily, but regret quickly struck her. She shouldn't be yelling at Mary.

“I-'m sorry, it just…”

“Hurts?” Mary finished the sentence for her.

“Yeah,” Y/n mumbled, accepting the cloth to her face, the coldness of it helping with the burning sensation and easing her pain. She stayed with the cloth for a few seconds before Mary took it away from her.

“You two sit nice and still, okay?” Mary said. “I need to get some supplies in the other room, but I’ll be back.”

“I’ll talk to your teammates, too, Y/n,” she said, turning to Y/n now. “They were quite a bit worried about you, especially the skipper.”

Before Y/n could reply Mary left.

She and Grace were alone in the small room, the smell of antiseptic and disinfectant filling Y/n’s nose. She hated it.

Y/n slowly sat up on the bed and finally looked at Grace, who was sitting on the bed next to her.

Her back was propped up against two pillows, she was still wearing her Manchester kit, stained with dirt and blood. Her hair was down around her shoulders, a few leaves of grass lying in between the strings.

Should Y/n tell her about the grass? Well, given Y/n’s situation, she wasn’t really in a position to judge. She hadn’t looked in the mirror yet, but she knew she was a mess.

Grace had a very soft, baby-like face, with delicate features, but right now she looked like she had come back from war. Her bottom lip was swollen, with a deep cut on it. Y/n couldn't see it properly because Grace was holding an ice pack against it, but from what she could see it was obvious that the girl’s lip was just also bruised.

“Your mouth–” Y/n said, pointing at Grace.

“Yeah, yours doesn't look too different either,” Grace said, removing the ice from her face. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I don’t remember how it happened.” Y/n admitted.

“Tooney made a high pass, I tried to get it with my head and I didn’t see you were close,” Grace said with a sad smile. “They say we bump heads but I pretty much bit your lip off, too”

“it hurts,” Y/n said in a low voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“It's okay. Are you okay?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine, but we’re gonna have to get stitches though,” Gracie said casually as she leaned back on her bed.

Stitches.

Great.

“I don’t think I’ll need stitches,” Y/n said, trying to sound stoic. She couldn’t freak out in front of Grace Clinton.

She was terrified of needles and anything that had to go into her skin. She didn’t even have any tattoos for that reason. Y/n was most definitely not going to get stitches, nonetheless here in the Man United infirmary. If it was in Arsenal’s infirmary might be cool about it.

“Well, I can barely understand what you’re saying because of how much your lip is so busted, so I think you are going to need stitches,” Grace said with an amused smile on her face. “She’ll put a numbing cream on it, you won’t feel a thing, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.” Y/n lied, her trembling hands betraying her. She quickly tried to hide them by sitting on her hands, but then her feet began to move anxiously.

Grace looked Y/n up and down, an understanding smile on her face. “You don’t have to act tough, it’s okay.”

Y/n felt a rush of blood to her cheeks. “I’m not acting tough,” she muttered, looking down.

She was a grown woman with a fear of needles. She felt silly.

Mary came in, a box written with suture materials on her hand.

Y/n went pale. Maybe she was going to throw up again.

“Okay sweeties,” Mary said enthusiastically, as if she enjoyed sewing people up. “Good news first: I found the anaesthetic cream,” she held up the small tube up as a prize.

“And bad news: we’ve got to be quickly because Y/n’s bus is waiting for her to leave, so let’s get going!” Mary continued.

Good to know that Y/n hadn’t been completely abandoned by her teammates in the middle of Manchester.

“Y/n, let’s get you stitched up first, yeah?”

Y/n gulped and opened her mouth, but she froze and couldn’t say anything. She looked frightened at Mary terrified and then at Grace.

“I can go first, Mary,” Grace said, holding up her hand. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay, then,” Mary said.

The nurse took the suture kit and walked in Grace’s direction. Y/n couldn’t see what Mary was doing because her body was directly in front of Y/n. The girl could only hear the nurse open the cream, and then it was quiet.

Mary started stitching Grace up. Grace didn’t make a sound or move. Y/n was in awe, she just couldn’t believe that she was being switched up and not shaking all over.

In less than 10 minutes Grace’s stitches were done. They were just on her lips, in the same place where Y/n would get hers.

The stitches were small, they looked raw and swollen, but the scar would be tiny.

“Okay, you’re good to go, honey, just make sure you don’t carry any heavyweight until your bruise is completely healed.” Mary patted Grace on the back as the girl got up from the bed.

Mary turned to Y/n and pointed at her. “Now it’s your turn, lie down on the bed for me please.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat again.

Okay, she could do it. All she had to do was breathe in and out.

Y/n tried to breathe, but the air didn’t reach her lungs. Her hands started to tremble. She shook her head and put her hands in front of her body, not letting Mary get any closer.

“I don’t want to,” Y/n said, trying to get away from Mary. “I’ll get stitches when I get back to Arsenal.” She was most definitely not going to do that.

Mary looked at her like she was a child.

“And are you planning to sit on a 4-hour drive to London with blood dripping from your forehead and mouth?” Mary asked patronisingly. “Don’t be silly, there’s no way a player like you is afraid of a few stitches, now lie down, I haven’t got all the time in the world and neither have you.

Okay, Mary wasn’t so nice anymore.

If Y/n hadn’t just had a concussion, she’d swear she’d seen the slightest frown on Grace’s face.

Y/n was embarrassed. She was a professional player and she was afraid of stitches, blood and needles. Y/n’s worst nightmare wasn’t to tear her ACL, but to suffer some kind of laceration during the game. And right now her nightmare had come true.

Her brain was already planning an escape route. There was nothing in her contract that said she had to go through with medical procedures if she didn’t agree with them.

And yes, her teammates would not enjoy spending 4 hours on a bus with someone bleeding, but what could they do? Put her on a train and send her off to London on her own.

If she could just get Mary to look away for a second, maybe she could reach the door and…

Y/n felt a dip in the mattress by her side.

“You guys won, did you know it?” Grace said, smiling at Y/n. “Cooney-Cross scored, 2-1 to Arsenal.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “You’re trying to distract me, I know it.”

“I just want to talk, really,” Grace said relaxed as if the infirmary was her favourite place to make small talk. “

Mary put the numbing cream first on her forehead and then on her lips. It stung at first, but then she couldn’t feel her skin anymore, as if it was anaesthetized.

Y/n breathed in and out again, trying not to panic. She would get stitches and she would be fine.

She closed her eyes.

“Who-who assisted Kyra?” Y/n questioned. If Grace was being kind enough to help her, Y/n would cooperate as well.

Mary’s cold hand found her skin. She didn't know if she was getting the stitches yet. Maybe not feeling them was worse than feeling the pain, at least she could understand what was happening.

“That Fox girl, I think her name is Emily, right?” Grace said. “Is she American?”

“Uhum,” Y/n said.

Breathe in and out. She just had to pretend there weren’t any kind of needles near her face.

“Now I’m going to do your lips, just keep them closed, Y/n,” Mary said.

If she was working on Y/n’s lips then maybe she was done with her forehead? She didn’t feel any pain, so it was probably good.

“I’ve always wanted to visit America,” Grace said, more to herself since Y/n couldn’t answer her. “I saw that Arsenal played in Washington last season, I hope Man United can play there too, it would be fun to travel with the girls.”

Y/n smiled, thinking about the trip. It was really a nice change of scenery to play in America. The crowd was different, the weather was warmer. It was a good memory.

“Try not to smile now, honey,” Mary said. “I’m almost finished here.”

“We’ve got a game in France next week, it’s just a friendly against Lyon, but it’ll be nice to get away from England’s winter,” Grace continued. “Not that the weather in France is any better at this time of the year. But still, I would rather be cold and eat a good croissant.”

Y/n wanted to smile at Grace again but remembered Mary’s scolding.

“And we’re all done here!” Mary said, clapping her hands. “Now you’re both free to go, I’ll email each of your clubs what we’ve done so they can include it in your medical report.”

Y/n opened her eyes and was met with Grace’s face. She looked pretty, even with the stitches on.

“Thank you, Mary,” Y/n and Grace said in unison as they left the infirmary. They were met with a silent and empty corridor.

Manchester United Stadium was pretty and clean, but it was way too dark to see anything. The hallways were gloomy and Y/n wasn’t a fan of the dark.

“Thank you for what you did there,” Y/n said, looking up at Grace, she couldn't really see her face, but Y/n knew she was there by the subtle touch of their hands as they walked. “You didn't have to, you’re probably late now and–”

“I know I didn’t have to,” Grace said as they walked through the corridors. “I just wanted to do it.”

Y/n honestly didn’t know where she was, she was just following Grace, hoping that the girl knew her own team’s stadium better she did.

“But you were scared and it was my fault that you had to get stitches at the end of the day,” Grace continued. “Besides, it was nice talking to you.”

Y/n blushed slightly. “You still think that even after I threw up in front of you and almost had a panic attack because of some stitches?” Y/n said half-jokingly, feeling a small shiver as their hands touched again

“Well, I did cut your lip open with my teeth, so I’d say we’re even,” Grace joked, turning left into a hallway that was less dark than before.

“It’s a very physical game, it’s bound to happen,” Y/n said smiling. “You don’t have to apologise.”

They walked on until Y/n finally realised where she was. She was near the changing rooms for the away and home teams. Next to the changing room was the media room, where the players, but mainly the technical staff, answered questions from sports journalists.

There were a lot of voices coming from the media room, it looked busy.

Y/n took a quick look inside the room and saw both Arsenal and Man United managers answering questions.

She wasn’t as sneaky as she thought she was, though, because in a matter of seconds a girl with a badge that said ‘Media’ was standing in front of her and Grace, mobile phone in hand.

“Hi girls, I’m Tara, I work for the Barclays Women's Super League’s Instagram and I was wondering if I could get a picture of you two together?” The woman asked nicely. “The fans are worried about your injury, so it would be nice to give a little update.”

“Would it just be a picture? Or an interview? We can’t talk much because of our lips,” Grace said, pointing at Y/n’s mouth and then at herself. “We just got stitches.”

“Just a picture to put on the Instagram feed,” Tara explained professionally. “If that’s all right with you, guys?”

Grace and Y/n exchanged a look and then nodded to Tara, who smiled and asked them to stand in front of one of the lights in the hallway.

Grace took a step closer to Y/n and gently placed her hand on Y/n’s hip. They smiled as Grace made the peace sign with her hand.

Y/n missed Grace’s hand after she had taken it from her body. It was warm, she liked it.

“Okay, that’s great! Thanks, girls,” Tara said after looking at the picture on her phone. “I hope you make a full recovery”

Tara left, leaving Y/n and Grace alone.

“We should probably go before more journalists come, I don’t really feel like talking to them,” Grace said.

“Well, we actually can’t talk much, anyway.”

They walked until they reached a door with the words “Player’s car park” on it. Grace opened the door for Y/n and they were greeted by the Manchester night.

Y/n quickly spotted the Arsenal bus. She even forgot that her teammates were waiting for her, they must be tired of waiting. It was already late.

Y/n turned to Grace “Thanks again, for staying with me…and being so nice,”

Grace smiled, “You don’t have to thank me, it’s alright, I’m the one who should thank you, if it was any other player they’d be mad at me for the injury, it was reckless.”

“I don't think anyone could be mad at you,” Y/n said, looking into Grace’s green eyes

“Oh they could,” Grace joked, looking around the car park. “Sorry again for hurting you, I hope it heals soon”

“It will, I’ll take good care of it,” Y/n said.

“Good. I’ll see you around, yeah?” Grace said.

“Yeah, of course,” Y/n said, feeling warmth in her cheeks. Grace was pretty, very pretty.

“Bye them, have a safe trip,” Grace waved before walking to a car parked on the other side of the parking lot, Y/n assumed it was hers.

Y/n made her way to the Arsenal team bus, but when she opened the door all she could hear was her teammates yapping.

“I think I should go check on her,” Kim said worriedly. “She’s been there for an hour!”

“I already talked to the nurse, she said it would take some time to stitch her up, mate, be patient,” Leah said.

“And that’s why somebody should go with her, Y/n is scared of needles, how is she going to get stitched up alone?” Kim stated.

“Kim, mate, relax! You always fuss over us, Y/n's fine, I just spoke with the nurse.”

“Of course, I fuss over you guys, I’m the captain! And you, Leah,” Kim said pointing at the blonde, “should do the same, since you’re co-captain.”

Leah rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll go! You’re talking as if I didn't stand by the infirmary door like a dog until the nurse kicked me out,” Leah muttered as she walked down the steps of the bus.

As she walked down she came face to face with Y/n.

“Oh look who’s here,” Leah said smiling, stopping in her tracks, she turned around and shouted, “Guys, she’s here!”

Leah took Y/n’s hand and the two girls walked into the bus. It was mostly dark, with an annoying smell of the peanuts Katie was always snacking on.

When the girl saw Y/n they all smiled at him.r

“Hey girl, how are you?” Alessia said, getting up from her seat to give Y/n a hug. “I was so scared when you fell there was so much blood on Grace's face! And the referee took forever to stop the game.”

Leah put a comforting hand on Y/n’s back. “You fainted, I thought they were going to call an ambulance. Don’t do that again, please”

“Do that again? You’re saying it like I wanted to get my forehead and lips cut open,” Y/n mumbled, waving and smiling at Kim.

“Leah and Kim were so angry,” Katie said from one of the last seats, “I think the only reason Leah didn’t scream at Grace was because she was hurt.”

“Of course, I wanted to scream! What was she thinking, jumping on you like that?” Leah said, her protective side showing as she squeezed Y/n’s shoulder a little harder. “She knows better than that. If it had happened at Camp, Sarina would’ve benched her on the spot.

“Come on Leah, you’d never forgive yourself if you shouted at Gracie girl,” Beth said, “she’s a sweetheart when we play for England.”

“Plus, I don’t think she saw Y/n, she wasn’t even looking at her side,” Kim said, “But let’s forget about Grace, how are those stitches? Did you panic?”

“Yeah I kind of did, but Grace talked me through it,” Y/n said, sitting down in her usual spot next to Alessia, the blonde wrapping her arms around her.

“That seems like grace, she is like the nicest person ever,” Alessia said. “And she gives great hugs too.”

“Okay, now you’re all making me feel bad for getting mad at her,” Leah said, rolling her eyes and sitting down in her seat a few rows away from Y/n.

“So y/n, tell me, do you think the game was mind-blowing or what?” Kyra said teasingly, sitting in the row right behind Y/n and Alessia, Steph by her side.”

“Too soon to be making puns about her bruise, you menace,” Steph said, playfully smacking Kyra on the head. “At least wait until it heals.”

The Arsenal team have been on the road to London for two hours. Everyone was asleep, some girls had their sleep masks on, and others were wrapped in blankets.

Everyone except Y/n.

The pain in her lip and forehead was bothering her and she didn’t have any painkillers she could take, she’d have to wait until she got home to take some ibuprofen. The pain was the main reason why Y/n was awake and playing games on her phone next to a very sleeping Alessia.

Y/n had set the screen brightness to the lowest possible, the bus was completely dark, which made her feel furtive in some sort of way.

She was halfway through with her Sudoku when she got a notification on her Instagram.

Barclays Women’s Super League tagged you on their post.

Y/n quickly clicked on it and in a matter of seconds, the picture of her and Grace appeared on her screen.

“A tough game, but both players are on the mend! ⚽” read the caption. There were an awful lot of comments on the post already. Maybe people were really worried about them.

The picture was cute.

Well, Grace looked cute. Y/n looked awful, her kit was completely dirty with grass, blood and mud, her hair was in a messy bun, and you could literally see the sweat on her neck. Gross.

Y/n’s stitches looked awful as well, they were very red, swollen and just raw.

Of course, Grace didn't look much different from Y/n, neither of them had had a chance to shower before the photo, but still, for some reason, Grace still looked pretty in her Manchester United kit.

Y/n stared at the picture, then the picture stared at her back.

She clicked on the post and saw Grace’s Instagram handle. She clicked on it and started scrolling through Grace’s profile, but not in I'm-obsessed-with-you way, more like a you-were-so-nice-i-want-to-get-to-know-you-better way.

Her Instagram was like any other player's. Lots of pictures of her on the pitch, in training, and at camp, but not much about her private life, unfortunately.

Y/n didn't know why she felt so creepy while scrolling through Grace’s Instagram, It wasn’t like it was wrong or weird, they just met and y/n wanted to know more about her… see if there were any hobbies she was interested in in in, what places had Grace had been, and stuff like that.

Grace seemed like a very nice person through the lens of Instagram. She seemed very dedicated to football, loyal to a few of her friends, and funny but also private.

Y/n wasn’t much different, she also didn’t like to post much about her life outside of football on social media. She and Grace had this in common.

Y/n went back to the picture of them together.

Maybe she should comment on it. Something casual, something funny, but not bold.

Stitch up buddies! she wrote, but then deleted.

God, that was so lame.

Matching tattoos are overrated, so we got matching stitches instead.

That was good. It was casual, it didn’t sound like she was flirting.

She hit send.

Then she dramatically put her hands in her face. “Bloody hell why did I do that?” she whispered to herself, but not loud enough for anyone to hear.

Would Grace think she was weird? She didn’t tag Grace on the comment, maybe the girl wouldn’t even see it and they’d just get on with their lives. Maybe she could delete it.

Y/n waited a few seconds before unlocking her phone again. She decided to finish her Sudoku, maybe it would help her fall asleep.

When she was almost done with a square her phone buzzed. She read the notification.

Grace Clinton replied to your comment.

Y/n’s heart dropped. She hesitated before opening the notification.

No one I’d rather get stitches with❤️

Y/n smiled as she read it, feeling like a giggling teenager with a secret crush.

Grace saw her comment and replied to it, and put a heart emoji next to it and it was a red heart emoji. Y/n stared at the comment for a few seconds before deciding she needed big help.

“Hey Less,” Y/n nudged Alessia, who was sleeping, face against the window, wrapped in an Arsenal hoodie. “I need your help.”

“Mm?”

Y/n place the phone on Alessia's barely awake face, she squinted her eyes because of the sudden light and pushed it away slightly, confused.

“What does a heart emoji mean?” Y/n asked,

“Huh?” Alessia said again, still sleepy.“What are you talking about?” She rubbed her eyes.

“A media girl took a picture of me and Grace after we got the stitches and they posted it, see here” Y/n showed Alessia the picture, but the girl still looked barely awake.

“Okay–?”

“So I commented on it, and Gracie replied to my comment!” Y/n did the same thing, showing Alessia the screen, but this time Alessia took the phone to read it herself.

“Oh,”

“Oh? What does "oh" mean?” Y/n said worriedly.

Alessia smiled at Y/n, a little grin on her face, something you didn’t normally see from Alessia. “Oh as in she used a red heart! That's good, oh.”?”

“Yes! That's what I thought, she could choose a blue one, right or even a yellow one?” Y/n said enthusiastically. “But do you feel like she picked it in a friendly way or…”

“What are you guys on about?” Kyra chimed in from the seat behind Y/n, just her face sticking out of the side of Y/n’s seat. “

“Y/n has a crush on Grace,” Alessia said in a low voice.

“I-What?! It’s not a crush, stop it,” Y/n denied, frowning. “It’s–I just think she’s cute, that’s all.”

“Oh wow, a crush, huh?” Kyra said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Are you star-crossed lovers? She bit a part of your lip and now she has a piece of your heart?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and pushed Kyra's face back into her row. “You’re so annoying, go back to your seat.”

“What are you going to do about that comment?” Alessia asked, ignoring the usual bickering between Kyra and Y/n.

“I don’t know. What do you think I should do, Less?” Y/n asked.

Alessia and Kyra were Y/n’s go-to girls for every problem she had, although she always leaned more towards Alessia when her problems involved other people.

“You should reply to it,” Kyra said, sticking her head back to Y/n’s row. “Drop a heart too, I dunno, but you can’t just leave it at that.”

“How do you even know what we are talking about? I haven’t even told you what she commented” Y/n turned to Kyra.

“I was eavesdropping,” Kyra admitted, “You guys were whisper-yelling.”

“No, we were not,” Y/n argued.

“Yes you were, you should be grateful that Kim sleeps with earplugs. Do you remember the last time we woke her up during a trip? She made Less cry.”

“She scares me sometimes,” Alessia said, looking into the void.

“Guys back to the real problem!” Y/n said, pointing at her phone. “Should I just like the comment and say anything? Or maybe I don't like it at all?”

“Can I take a look at it?” Kyra asked a pout on her face. “Please?”

“Yeah, of course, babe,” Y/n said, giving the phone to Kyra.

She was so bad at socialising and interacting with people in general, especially the ones she found attractive, like Grace.

She wasn’t even sure if Grace was into girls. Then again, she was a football player, so there was at least a 75 per cent chance—but still. Y/n bit her lip out of anxiety, but a sharp pain came, she forgot she had just got those damn stitches.

“Oh no,” Kyra whispered.

“What?” Y/n and Alessia turned their heads at the same time, not so much as whisper-yelling anymore.

“I liked one of her pictures,” Kyra admitted, talking fast “I’m so so sorry Y/n, I just disliked it back, but she’ll get the notification anyway.”

Y/n went pale. Fuck no.

“Kyra!” Y/n said, taking the phone out of her hands.

“Was it an old picture?” Alessia asked, biting her nails and looking from Kyra to Y/n. “Y/n don’t freak out, it’s okay.” She put a hand on Y/n's back and patted it.

“I think it was from 3 years ago,” Kyra said. “I just wanted to see her profile! I’m really sorry!”

“I’m gonna eat broken glass,” Y/n said. No expression on her face.

Alessia put her arm around Y/n. “It’s okay, maybe she won’t even notice, she must get a lot of notifications all the time, she probably won’t see yours.”

“Yeah! Especially after a game, people go crazy when we play,” Kyra said guiltily. “I’m really sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“It’s okay, Ky,” Y/n said, leaning into Alessia's shoulder as Kyra’s hand patted her arm.

“I guess I’ll just never play against Man United ever again,” Y/n continued, biting her nails. “It’s not like football is my only talent, I can quiet it. That’s a good option.

“When’s our next game against United anyway?” Alessia asked, ignoring Y/n ramblings.

“In two months,” Kyra replied. “But it’s just a friendly.”

“Just so you know I’ll have a serious case of period cramps by then. Y/n said. “Renée will have to bench me.”

Y/n was in distress. Now Grace was going to think she was some kind of weird stalker going through old pictures of her. She wanted to hide away in her bed and never come out into the world ever again.

Y/n’s phone buzzed again, unexpectedly.

The three girls held their breath.

“I can’t look at it,” Y/n said, giving her phone to Alessia and burying her face in her shirt. “You look at it.”

Alessia took the phone as Kyra moved her head to see the screen.

“Oh she definitely noticed you,” Alessia said teasingly. “She just followed you! Yay! ”

“What!?” Y/n said, taking her face out of her shirt. “She followed me?!”

“And liked your last post about helping stray animals,” Kyra said, holding the phone to her face.

Y/n felt disappointed. “Really?

“No, I'm kidding, she liked a selfie, and an old one too, from 2021,” Kyra smiled as she jabbed from Y/n playful punch. “Congrats, she likes you back,”

“Now Y/n, you have to say ‘Kyra thank you so much, your mistake was a blessing in disguise, I’m so lucky to have you as a frie–”

“Who likes you back?”

The three girls turned their heads.

Leah was staring at them, arms crossed, frown on her face, her pillow tucked under her arm. She looked tired.

“W-what?” the girls said in unison.

“Did we wake you up? Kyra said, trying to give Leah one of her sweet smiles, but the frown on Leah’s face continued.”We’re sorry,”

“Yes you did, you’re out here giggling like schoolgirls,” she muttered. “But it doesn’t matter, at least Kim is still asleep. If she woke up we’d have a problem.”

They all looked to their left where Kim was in a deep sleep.

“Last time she woke up–”

“Yeah, we remember,” The girls answered Leah again in unison.

“But back to the point,” Leah said. “Who likes you back?”

The bus was silent.

“Oh come on, it’s the least you can do after waking me up,” Leah said, crossing her arms. “You know I never pry on your life, just tell me this once.”

Y/n looked at Alessia, then at Kyra, waiting for them to come in and elaborate a straight-up lie so she wouldn’t have to admit to Leah that she had a crush on the girl who sent her to the infirmary just three hours ago.

“I think Grace Clinton is cute.” Y/n quickly and defensively, crossing her arm and imitating Leah.

Leah grinned. “Grace Clinton, huh? Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. Do you have something for a girl who draws you a little blood? “

“Stop it, Leah, don’t say it like that!” Y/n blushed. “I think she’s cute and kind…and I’m not embarrassed about it.”

“I mean… yeah? Why would you be embarrassed about it? ” Leah said with the i-don’t-really-care-that-much usual tone in her voice, " She is a nice girl.”

“Yeah, she is,” Y/n stated, a little defensive.

Ok, maybe she should let her guard down, neither Alessia nor Kyranorr Leah were judging her for her little crush.

“She just helped me calm down with the stitches,” Y/n explained. “And she’s pretty.

“You should just ask her out whenever we have a game around Manchester or London,” Leah said casually. “You could take her out to dinner, or to some coffee shop you like.”

“You say that as if it’s easy to just ask someone on a date,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes.

Leah looked at her confused. “Well, it is easy. You just have to ask them. If they say yes you go on the date and if they say no you just say ok and move on.”

“Things just work that way because you are Leah,” Y/n said, defeated. “I'm not like you, I'm not naturally charismatic or good with other people”

“I think you’re quite charming if that’s any consolation,” Kyra said, winking at her.

“It absolutely does not, Ky, but I appreciate you throwing me a pity bone,” Y/n said desolated.

Leah held out her hand, palm open. “Give me your phone–I’ll fix it in like ten seconds.”

“What, no!” Y/n said, holding her phone close to her chest, and protecting it.

“Why not? If you’re too scared I can ask her for you,” Leah rolled her eyes.

“I think you should do it,” Alessia said. “Or else you’ll regret not doing something about it,”

“Yeah, and you’ll whine about it every girl's night,” Kyra said. “Do it, come on.”

“What if she says no?” Y/n whined.

“Then you’ll get over it,” Leah said bluntly. “Haven’t you ever been rejected before?”

“No!” Y/n said. “I’m never the one who initiates anything.”

“Bloody hell, you’re hopeless.” Leah pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Leah!” Alessia said in a more stern voice. “Don’t say that, you have to encourage her.”

Leah held Y/n’s shoulder and leaned forward so they were the same height.

“You can’t be a coward forever,” Leah said, using her authoritative voice. “You need to woman up, are you a chicken or are you a girl?”

Y/n was silent for a few seconds.

“A girl,” she mumbled.

“Exactly, a girl, so let’s do it!”

Y/n thought about it and hesitantly handed her phone to Leah. “Don’t be too bold or too flirty or too Leah about it,”

Leah rolled her eyes but took the phone.

“Hey, Grace. Coffee next time we’re in Manchester or London?” Leah said aloud as she typed.

“No, that's too direct!” Y/n said

“Oh fine,” Leah huffed. “Hi, let me know if you’re ever around London, we could grab something to eat, xoxo.”

“I don't use xoxo.”

Leah looked at Y/n impatiently and clicked on the screen with more force than necessary, deleting the last part. “ok, no xoxo.” she huffed again.

Leah finished typing but didn’t hit send right away. She picked up the phone, teasing Y/n: “Are you going to do it, or should I?”

Y/n takes a deep breath, grabs the phone, and hits send herself—a small victory for her confidence.

“She’s gonna say yes, I can feel it,” Kyra says dramatically as Alessia hugged Y/n.

Y/n stared at her phone, her heart hammering against her ribs. She couldn’t take it back now. Well, she could, but that would be humiliating. The message was out there, sitting in Grace Clinton’s DMs, waiting to be read.

“See?” Leah smirked. “That wasn’t so hard.”

Y/n groaned and buried her face in her hoodie. “I’m never doing that again.”

“Oh, babe,” Kyra cooed, patting her head. “You’re gonna have to survive until she answers first.”

Y/n peeked at her phone screen one last time before locking it. Maybe getting stitches had been less painful than this.

Notes: Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

#woso fanfic #woso x reader #woso appreciation #woso community #grace clinton #grace clinton fanfic #women soccer

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slut4megantheestallion · 9 hours ago

Text

JJK Characters React to Their S/O Going Down on Them in a Risky Place

→ pairings: satoru gojo, suguru geto, shoko Ieiri, nanami kento, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, nobara kugisaki, choso, Sukuna

→ a/n: finally had the time to write something for jjk!!! because I haven't done it in a while because I stopped watching the show and because of school.

GOJO - Under the Meeting Table.

Gojo loves a good thrill, so when you crawl under the table during an important Jujutsu High meeting and unzip his pants, his smirk falters for just a second. He adjusts his sunglasses, spreading his legs slightly to give you better access.

When your tongue runs along the underside of his cock, his fingers twitch against the table. Yaga is talking about school regulations, but Gojo barely hears a word. Instead, he struggles to keep his voice steady as he quips, “Mmm, I think we should be more… flexible with the rules.”

When you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, his foot nudges yours under the table—his subtle way of telling you he’s getting close. He’s gripping the edge of the table, and his voice is just a little too breathy. Shoko side-eyes him suspiciously.

“You good, Gojo?” she asks, raising a brow.

“Oh, I’m doing great,” he grins, though his muscles tense when you swirl your tongue around the tip. He shoots you a warning glance under the table. Behave, it says. But his hand finds your hair, pushing you down ever so slightly.

Suguru Geto- Private Dinner Party.

A private, high-end restaurant, soft candlelight, and a table just long enough to keep you hidden. Geto is mid-conversation with some important higher-ups when you decide to slip beneath the table and surprise him.

The moment you pull down his slacks and take him in your mouth, Geto’s expression doesn’t change—he’s too damn composed. But his hand drifts under the table, fingers brushing against your cheek as if to praise you.

“You were saying?” he asks smoothly when someone calls his name, voice utterly controlled despite the way your tongue flicks over his slit.

His thigh muscles tense when you take him all the way in, his breathing just a tad slower. He’s good at maintaining a poker face, but the way his fingers tighten in your hair gives him away. “Such a needy thing, aren’t you?” he murmurs down at you.

If you push him too far, he’ll grab you by the jaw afterward, lips brushing against your ear. “Couldn’t wait until we got home, hm? You’ll pay for that later, sweetheart.”

Shoko Leiri- Doctor's Office

Shoko leans back in her chair, puffing on a cigarette, not even bothering to hide her smirk as you kneel between her legs in her dimly lit office.

She exhales a slow drag as your tongue flicks against her clit, watching the smoke curl toward the ceiling. “You really are bad for me,” she chuckles, voice husky.

When you suck a little harder, her thighs twitch, and her free hand finds your head, fingers tangling in your hair. “Mmm, right there—fuck, yeah, keep doing that.”

She doesn’t hold back her moans, the door unlocked, knowing anyone could walk in at any moment. But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?

When she comes, her cigarette is half-burned, forgotten in the ashtray. She takes one last drag before crushing it out and pulling you up by your chin, pressing a kiss to your swollen lips. “Next time, I’ll return the favor on your desk.”

Nanami kento- After hours at the Office

Nanami is a disciplined man, but you? You’re his one indulgence.

When you drop to your knees in his office, pushing his chair back slightly, he sighs deeply. “This is highly inappropriate,” he murmurs, but he’s already unbuckling his belt.

He watches you intently, jaw clenched as your lips wrap around him. His fingers twitch when you take him to the base, resisting the urge to grab your head and thrust deeper.

“You’re making this—ah—very difficult for me,” he says, voice strained. When you suck harder, his grip tightens on the armrests, knuckles white.

When he finally comes, he exhales a long, heavy breath, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “You are insatiable,” he mutters, pulling you into his lap. “Now, let me make you come undone.”

Yuji itadori- Movie Theater

Yuji is nervous as hell when your hand sneaks into his lap during the movie.

“W-We’re in public,” he whispers, glancing around. But when your fingers unzip his pants and pull him free, his breath hitches.

He grips the armrest, eyes wide as your mouth wraps around him. “Oh, fuck—” he mutters under his breath, quickly covering his mouth to muffle a groan.

He keeps his eyes on the screen, but he’s not watching the movie at all. When you swallow him down, his hips buck slightly. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he breathes.

When he comes, he bites his lip so hard he nearly draws blood. As you sit back up, he looks at you with dazed, half-lidded eyes. “You’re evil,” he whispers. “And I love you for it.”

Megumi fushiguro- car ride

Megumi grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white.

“This is so dangerous,” he hisses, trying to keep his eyes on the road while you lean over and take him in your mouth.

His breathing is ragged, jaw clenched as you suck him deeper. “Fuck,” he groans, his free hand gripping your thigh. “You’re gonna make me crash.”

His body shudders when he finishes, eyes squeezed shut for a second. When he pulls over afterward, he glares at you, cheeks red. “You’re making me drive home like this?”

Nobara Kugisaki- Dressing room

“You are so bad,” Nobara giggles, biting her lip as you kneel between her legs in the dressing room stall.

When your tongue flicks against her clit, her nails scrape against the mirror, a muffled moan escaping her lips. “Fuck, keep going,” she whispers, legs trembling.

When she comes, she tugs you up, breathless. “You’re buying me something expensive after this,” she teases, kissing you deeply.

Choso Kamo- Alleyway

Choso leans against the wall, panting as your mouth works him over. “Shit,” he mutters, fingers threading into your hair.

His red eyes burn with hunger as he watches you. “You love making a mess of yourself, don’t you?” he groans.

When he finishes, he pulls you into a deep, slow kiss. “You’re mine,” he murmurs.

Ryomen Sukuna- Throne Room

Sukuna watches you with predatory amusement, his fingers tangled in your hair. “On your knees before your king—good pet.”

When you take him deep, he growls, throwing his head back. “That’s it—fuck, just like that.”

He doesn’t let you up until he’s satisfied, pulling you into his lap afterward. “You’ll be doing that again later.”

#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #gojo satoru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto #nobara kugisaki x reader #yuji itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #sukuna x reader #choso kamo x reader #shoko leiri x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk smut

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heliosunny · 18 hours ago

Note

Helloooo!!! Sorry to bother, but Could we get a part two of your Yandere!Mydei x Neko! Reader? Its really given me interest and I think it’d be cool, them marrying and all and how would reader react to it? How would it go? Would reader end up enjoying the marriage or suffer in it?

Yandere!Mydei x Neko!Reader [2]

Visit [part 1]

Days turned into weeks, then months, life at Mydei’s estate had become… normal. At least, as normal as it could be when you lived under the same roof as a man who seemed hellbent on making your life difficult—in the most infuriating ways possible.

The maids now treating you with respect (if not a little wariness, given your close relationship with Mydei). You had found small ways to be useful, helping organize documents, assisting in the gardens, and occasionally running small errands for Mydei’s work.

You had gotten used to everything.

Except him.

Because somehow, no matter how much time passed, Mydei always found new ways to tease you. And you never saw it coming.

One morning, you were walking through the hall when

“My, my. Has anyone told you how adorable you look when you’re lost in thought?”

You flinched, ears twitching violently as you whirled around. Mydei was leaning against the wall, watching you with that damn smirk of his.

“You—” You exhaled sharply. “Can you not sneak up on me like that?!”

“I wasn’t sneaking” he said. “You were just too distracted to notice.”

“What do you want?”

He stepped closer, towering over you. “Nothing much. Just enjoying the view.”

“Stop saying things like that!”

“Oh?” His smirk widened. “Would you prefer if I whispered it instead?”

You bolted. You can hear his laughter followed you down the hall.

Another time, you were in the library, trying to reach a book from a high shelf. Just as you were about to grab it, a hand easily plucked it away. You huffed, turning—only to see Mydei flipping through the pages, his expression casual.

“…Mydei.”

“Yes, pet?”

You held out your hand. “Give it back.”

He hummed, tapping his chin. “I don’t know… What will you give me in return?”

“It’s my book!”

“And I’m simply holding it,” he mused. “Now, if you really want it back, perhaps a little please, my dear lord might do the trick?”

You lunged for it.

He lifted it higher.

You jumped.

He stepped back.

This continued for a full minute before you finally grabbed onto his arm, using your weight to drag him down.

Both of you tumbled onto the couch, you landing half on top of him.

You stiffened as Mydei’s arms settled around your waist, his breath warm against your ear.

“Well, this is quite bold of you, pet” he murmured. “If you wanted to be in my arms, all you had to do was ask.”

You flew off him.

The book?

You completely forgot about it.

His victorious chuckle haunted you for the rest of the day.

No matter how much time passed, no matter how comfortable you became in his estate—you would never get used to him.

----

You had woken up expecting another normal day.

Instead, you found yourself curled up in the blankets, significantly smaller than usual.

Your ears twitched. Your tail—wait, your tail?!

You looked down, and instead of hands, you had small, soft paws.

You had… transformed. It was rare—so rare that you barely even remembered the last time it happened. But maybe, just maybe, it was a side effect from when you had sacrificed one of your lives to save Mydei.

Panic flickered in your chest.

You had to find a way to change back before Mydei saw you like this.

The bedroom door opened.

“Pet—” Mydei’s voice started casually before he stopped, scanning the empty bed.

A deep frown tugged at his lips. “Where did you run off to this time?”

Your fur bristled. He was already assuming the worst.

…Well.

Maybe this was an opportunity.

He doesn’t know it’s me.

If he thought you had simply gone out, then you had time to figure things out. A little harmless wandering wouldn’t hurt, right? And so, you took full advantage of your new form, slipping out of the room undetected.

For the first time in forever, you explored the estate in your small, feline form.

You darted between the hallways, slipping past the maids’ feet, leaping onto high bookshelves with ease. You even snuck into the kitchen and stole a snack—not that anyone could blame a harmless little cat, of course.

But the best part?

Watching Mydei suffer.

He waited in the main hall, arms crossed, golden eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Still not back...” he muttered, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair.

The longer you stayed hidden, the more irritated he became.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair before grumbling, “When they come back, I swear I’ll keep them locked in my room for a week.”

Maybe you should stay like this a little longer.

You continued your little adventure, enjoying the rare freedom that came with being small and swift. The estate was huge, and in this form, it felt even bigger. You weaved through the garden, basked in the sunlight by the windowsill, and even had a little fun swatting at the occasional falling leaf.

It wasn’t often you got to just… relax without Mydei teasing you every five minutes.

Speaking of him, you found him near the entrance of the estate, still looking for you.

You perched on a high wall, ears twitching as you observed him. He looked mildly annoyed.

“They’re still not back” he murmured to himself, fingers running through his hair. “Where in the world did you run off to, pet...”

You watched, amused. If only you could tell him.

That’s when his gaze flicked up and locked directly onto you.

“A cat?” Mydei tilted his head, his irritation fading into mild interest.

Your tail flicked.

He didn’t recognize you.

Perfect.

You were about to hop away when suddenly—

“Come here” Mydei said, his voice taking on that damn smooth, commanding tone.

Your body reacted before your brain did.

Before you knew it, you had leapt down.

Right into his arms.

…What?

You blinked, startled at yourself.

“Well, well. Aren’t you obedient?”

You screamed internally.

Why did you listen?! It had to be instinct—some part of you still used to following his commands.

Noticing your frozen state, Mydei chuckled, gently scratching behind your ears. “You’re quite the cute little thing, aren’t you?”

He brought you inside, casually petting your fur as he read through paperwork.

“You’re quite the well-behaved cat” he mused, fingers lightly scratching under your chin. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”

You flicked your tail against his hand in protest.

At dinner, he set a small dish of food beside him.

“For my little guest” he said.

You glared at him but ate anyway.

At some point, he held you up, his eyes analyzing you closely.

“…Why do I feel like you remind me of someone?”

Maybe it was time to run.

The moment you finished eating, you bolted.

Mydei barely had time to react before you dashed out of the room, paws barely making a sound as you disappeared into the halls.

For a second, he just sat there, blinking at the now-empty space beside him.

“Running away already?”

His amusement didn’t stop him from standing up, golden eyes glinting as he chased after you.

You weaved through the garden, slipping through bushes and around hedges, your small form making it easy to avoid detection.

Or so you thought.

Because when you finally made it to a tall tree at the edge of the estate and climbed up to safety, a shadow loomed below.

“There you are.”

You looked down.

Mydei stood at the base of the tree, arms crossed, an expression of clear amusement on his face.

“You really thought you could escape me?”

Then, to your absolute horror, Mydei climbed up after you.

Your instincts screamed at you to move, to get higher, to escape.

So when Mydei finally reached up to grab you, you lashed out.

A startled scratch landed on the back of his hand.

You froze, realizing what you had just done.

He looked at his hand, a small scratch marking his skin.

Your ears flattened, guilt washing over you.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and licked the wound.

Mydei went completely still.

“That’s not how you treat a wound” he said, though his voice was more amused than scolding. “Honestly, are you a cat or a troublemaker?”

You huffed, lightly swishing your tail.

With an exasperated shake of his head, he reached out—this time, more carefully—and scooped you into his arms.

“You’re coming inside. No more running off.”

Even as he carried you back, even as he got someone to properly treat his hand, even as he kept you close for the rest of the evening—

You had a feeling he was never going to let you live this down.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You shifted slightly, feeling warmth pressed against you—something solid, something comforting.

Your ears twitched.

Wait.

Your ears?

Your tail?

Your eyes snapped open, and you quickly looked down at yourself.

Hands. Fingers. A normal-sized body.

You were back to normal.

Which meant—

A slow, sinking realization hit you as you felt the steady rise and fall of someone else’s breathing right beside you.

You turned your head—

And came face to face with Mydei.

His arm was draped around your waist, holding you firmly in place.

You were in his bed.

What. The. Hell. How did this happen?!

You wracked your brain, trying to recall the night before—but all you remembered was him carrying you back inside. At some point, you must have fallen asleep, still in your small form.

Which meant—he had probably taken you to his bed to keep an eye on you.

But now that you were back to normal, you had to get out of here.

Slowly—very slowly—you tried to move.

The moment you even shifted, Mydei’s arm tightened around you.

“Mm… Trying to escape again, pet?”

“I—I wasn’t—”

“Then why are you trembling?”

You were trembling. Your body was practically vibrating with embarrassment. This was not good for your heart.

“I—um—”

Before you could say anything else, he suddenly reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“…Back to normal, hm?” His voice was softer now, “Shame. I rather liked carrying you around.”

Nope. You were leaving.

You quickly tried to roll away—only for his grip to pull you back.

“Ah, ah. Not so fast.”

You squeaked. He chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of your flustered state.

With a sigh of mock disappointment, he finally loosened his hold. “Fine. I suppose I can let you go… for now.”

You didn’t waste another second, bolting from the bed.

You had spent the entire day hiding.

The embarrassment from that morning still burned in your mind, and there was absolutely no way you were going to let Mydei see you again so soon.

Unfortunately, your stomach had other plans.

By the time evening rolled around, hunger had fully betrayed you.

Your ears flattened as you peeked out from your hiding spot, making sure the path was clear before sneaking towards the kitchen. If you were quick, you could grab something to eat and disappear again.

You didn't believe in your own eyes. Standing at the stove, sleeves casually rolled up, was Mydei himself. You nearly turned around immediately, but your stomach let out a small, betraying growl.

Mydei didn’t even turn around.

“I was wondering when you’d finally show up. Hiding all day must’ve been exhausting.”

You swallowed down your embarrassment and shuffled over, cautiously standing beside him.

“…You cook?”

He smirked, stirring the pan. “Occasionally.”

The warm scent of food filled the kitchen, and despite your shame, your tail gave the tiniest flick of anticipation.

Noticing this, Mydei chuckled.

“You must be starving.”

You refused to answer, but your stomach growled again, exposing you.

Without warning, he picked up a piece of the food with a fork and held it up to your lips.

“Here, eat.”

You hesitated.

He raised a brow. “What, suddenly shy?”

Your ears twitched in protest. He was doing this on purpose!

Still, hunger won in the end.

You leaned forward, taking a bite.

…It was good.

Really good.

Your tail swayed slightly before you could stop it.

Mydei noticed immediately.

“You like it?”

You quickly turned away, trying to hide your reaction. “It’s… decent.”

He chuckled, clearly seeing right through you.

But instead of teasing further, he simply fed you another bite.

And another.

Until you realized—

You hadn’t even picked up a plate.

You were just standing there, letting him feed you.

Just as you were finishing your meal, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your ears.

A man strolled into the kitchen, dressed in deep navy robes embroidered with intricate golden thread. His jewelry glimmered under the warm candlelight—rings, necklaces, even a few delicate chains woven into his sleeves.

Your ears perked up.

Shiny.

The man exuded a regal yet laid-back air, his dark brown hair tied back loosely as if he didn’t care much for appearances, despite the wealth he clearly carried.

“Mydei!” the man greeted smoothly, giving a short nod. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Mydei sighed. “That depends. If you’ve come to dump your problems on me again, I may have to reconsider allowing you in.”

The man laughed. “Oh, don’t be so cold. I bring interesting news.”

You barely paid attention to their conversation because you were too distracted by the gold. It wasn’t your fault! It just—sparkled.

You stood behind Mydei, eyes locked onto the shimmering rings as the man casually gestured while speaking. The way the candlelight bounced off the metal, the soft clink they made whenever he moved his hands—

Your tail flicked in fascination.

Mydei noticed. His golden eyes glanced over his shoulder at you, catching the way you were so entirely focused on his guest’s accessories.

And yet, you didn’t care.

You just kept staring.

A chuckle escaped his friend. “Well, aren’t they an interesting one?”

That was when you finally snapped out of it, realizing how obvious you had been.

Heat rushed to your face, and you quickly straightened up, clearing your throat as if that would erase the past minute.

The man smirked in amusement before offering a slight bow. “Elias Von Luthen. A pleasure to meet you.”

You hesitated for a moment before murmuring your own name in response.

He smiled, then added, “I must say, I don’t often see Mydei with company. You must be rather special.”

Your ears twitched, and Mydei merely sighed. “Don’t start.”

Elias ignored him, continuing, “Actually, I came here because I’ve been dealing with a rather elusive group. My companion has been helping me, but we could always use more sharp senses.”

He paused, glancing at you.

“If you’re interested, you could accompany me. It would be beneficial to have another of your kind along. You’d be well compensated, of course.”

You blinked. You weren’t entirely opposed to the idea. The thought of traveling, using your skills, and even learning from another hybrid was tempting.

But before you could even consider it, Mydei spoke first.

“They’re not going anywhere.”

Elias raised a brow. “Oh? I wasn’t aware you had them bound to you.”

“I don’t. But if you think I’d let my dear companion run off with you so easily…”

He leaned back slightly, his gaze flicking toward you.

“…Then you clearly don’t know me well enough.”

Elias finally stood, stretching his arms as he let out a satisfied sigh. “Well, this has been quite the pleasant visit, but I should be on my way. My friend is probably wondering if I got kidnapped.”

He turned to you with a smirk. “If you ever change your mind about my offer, you’re always welcome to find me. Though… judging by Mydei’s reaction, I doubt you’ll get far.”

Your ears twitched, and you glanced at Mydei, expecting a sharp remark or at least a smug retort.

But strangely… he said nothing.

He merely watched Elias leave with an unreadable expression before turning on his heel and walking off without a single word to you.

Weird.

Usually, he’d at least tease you about your staring or make a sarcastic remark about Elias’ offer. But this time? Nothing.

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or suspicious.

Hours passed, and you didn’t see Mydei again.

At first, you assumed he was just busy. Maybe he had some business to attend to. Maybe he was just giving you space.

But when you asked the maids if they’d seen him, one of them hesitated before replying:

“His Grace? He left the estate for something. We’re not sure what, but he seemed… oddly pleased about it.”

…That definitely set off alarms in your head.

Because if Mydei was pleased about something, it always meant trouble for you.

Meanwhile, in the depths of the city’s underground market, Mydei was browsing through a selection of rare and enchanted artifacts.

He held up a small, shimmering vial, speaking smoothly to the vendor.

“This,” he mused, watching the liquid shift inside, “will definitely do the trick.”

Oh, he wasn’t letting you off that easily.

If you thought he’d forget how easily distracted you were by shiny things…

Well. You were about to sorely underestimate him.

That night, you were restless. Mydei still hadn’t returned, and the silence was starting to get suspicious. You knew he wasn’t the type to just disappear without reason—especially after Elias’ visit.

Something was definitely up. But no one knew where he went, and that was even worse. Just as you were about to give up and retreat to your room, the main doors finally creaked open.

Mydei strolled inside, his coat draped lazily over one shoulder. He looked too pleased.

You immediately took a cautious step back. “...Where did you go?”

His smirk widened. “What, no ‘welcome home’?”

“You’re up to something.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, delicate vial filled with a swirling, shimmering liquid.

Your eyes caught the way it sparkled under the chandelier light.

Your instincts locked onto it immediately.

Shiny.

Wait.

You forced yourself to blink and look away. “...What is that?”

Mydei hummed, casually twirling the vial between his fingers. “Oh, just something interesting I found. Nothing too important.”

“If it’s nothing important, then put it away.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why? Does it bother you?”

You knew that tone. That was his teasing tone.

Which meant he definitely had bad intentions.

“Nope. Not at all.”

“Hmm.”

The next thing you knew, he popped the cork open.

The scent hit you instantly.

Your instincts flared.

Your pupils dilated before you could stop them.

The air carried something sweet, enticing, almost hypnotic. Your tail twitched, and your body suddenly felt too warm.

“What—what is that?”

You took a step back, but your body felt wrong. Your senses were sharper, your ears picking up even the faintest rustle of fabric as Mydei took a step closer.

Your claws itched to grip onto something.

Oh hell no.

You spun on your heel to run.

But before you could even take another step, Mydei effortlessly caught your tail.

“My, my,” he mused. “Are you reacting to it?”

“Y-you—this—this is—!”

He gave the slightest tug on your tail, and your breath hitched.

Your instincts were screaming at you, but not in a way you could control. The warmth in your chest made you restless, and Mydei’s smirking face only infuriated you further.

So, you did the only thing that made sense in the moment.

You bit him. A sharp chomp right on his wrist.

“Ah—” Mydei barely reacted, only letting out a small chuckle, though you felt the slight tension in his arm. “Oh? That’s adorable.”

You glared up at him, ears pinned back.

“I hate you” you hissed, teeth still sunk into his skin.

“You sure about that? Because you’re still holding on.”

Your tail bristled, and you finally let go, stepping back with a sharp huff.

Unfortunately, you moved too quickly, causing something to topple over.

A loud clatter echoed through the hallway.

“My lord?” A servant’s voice rang out from the other side of the door. “Is everything alright?”

Your ears flattened in panic. If they walked in right now, they’d see the absolute mess you had caused—your ruffled clothes, Mydei’s slightly scuffed sleeves, and the very clear bite mark on his wrist.

You lunged for the door and quickly locked it before she could push it open.

Mydei chuckled, leaning against the desk like he was thoroughly enjoying this. “Hiding the evidence now?”

You shot him a glare.

“Everything’s fine!” you called out, trying to sound normal.

“…Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

Then, reluctantly, the servant’s footsteps faded as she left.

You let out a breath of relief.

But your problems were far from over.

Because Mydei was still holding that damn vial.

Your eyes flicked toward it.

Surely… surely it wouldn’t do anything to a human, right?

You lunged.

Mydei’s eyes widened slightly at your sudden movement, but before he could react, your hand smashed into his, knocking the vial loose.

Time seemed to slow.

The shimmering liquid tumbled through the air. It spilled all over him.

The scent immediately intensified, and before you could even process what had happened—

Your instincts snapped. Your ears twitched. Your body moved on its own. You pressed yourself against him and, without thinking—

You licked him.

Right on the neck.

Mydei was more than shocked.

You, however, did not stop.

Your tongue dragged over his collarbone, your hands clutching onto his coat as you instinctively nuzzled into him, your body overcome with warmth and an undeniable urge to—groom.

You had never been this overwhelmed before.

And yet, all you could focus on was how good he smelled, how nice he felt, and how much you wanted to—

“Ah.”

His voice rumbled in amusement.

You froze mid-lick.

Slowly—very slowly—you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

Golden eyes gleamed with pure satisfaction.

“My, my,” he murmured. “This is far better than I expected.”

Your soul left your body.

You tried to move away.

You really did.

But your body betrayed you, instincts still running rampant, and instead of pulling back—

You licked him again.

---

Finally, finally, it was over.

Whatever effect that damn vial had on you finally faded, leaving you exhausted, drained, and wanting nothing more than to curl up and disappear from existence.

Your body gave out, and before you could stop it, you instinctively popped back into your full cat form—small, fluffy, and completely sprawled out on top of Mydei.

You were too tired to care.

And, surprisingly… he didn’t move you.

You barely registered the way his hand rested against your fur, his fingers giving one last teasing scratch before he finally drifted off.

By the time morning arrived, you were back to normal.

And Mydei was gone.

You sat up, ears twitching, eyes darting around the room in slight panic.

He wasn’t here.

Lucky.

You weren’t sure if you could face him right now—not after what happened. Your tail flicked, a deep shame curling in your chest as you remembered every single embarrassing thing you did.

You licked him.

Multiple times.

You needed to erase that from history.

But more importantly—

You needed to ban that damn vial from existence.

Without wasting another second, you bolted out of bed, snatching up a pile of blank parchment and a stick of charcoal.

You were going to make it very clear that such a thing was never allowed in this house again.

It took hours.

But by the time you were finished, the entire estate was plastered with your angry little sketches—hastily drawn pictures of the accursed vial, each one crossed out with a big, aggressive “X.”

Some were on the doors.

Some were on the walls.

Some were even on Mydei’s office desk.

And to your absolute satisfaction, no one stopped you.

The servants said nothing.

Mydei—who had definitely seen them—said nothing.

He probably thought it was hilarious, but at least he wasn’t teasing you about it.

Yet.

For now, you stood back and admired your work, hands on your hips, tail flicking in satisfaction.

Good.

That thing was never coming back.

#yandere x reader #yandere #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #mydeimos #mydei #hsr mydei #mydei x reader #honkai star rail mydei

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threeacttragedy · 4 hours ago

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Entry 20: The One Where We Take a Course in Rear Window Ethics

Oh, hey, hey – you’re back!

Yes. I, uh – we need to – uh... What the hell are you doing with that Exakta VX camera fitted with a 400 mm Kilfitt lens?

Come here. See those open windows across the courtyard?

Uh, yeah…

Well, I’m trying to zoom into that apartment –

Wow. Because that’s not creepy as fuck.

Oh, don’t be so modern. This is New York City, 1954. It’s fine.

Yeah, okay. I need you to focus for a moment. Seriously – put down the zoom lens. Headquarters called and wanted to know why Dorothy was still in Oz. You know we were told to take her home.

No – actually we were told to throw stones at that wannabe Wizard. And we did. Kind of. Okay, whatever, but surely you can feel the shift. At the very least we’ve infiltrated the base camp with a bunch of flying monkeys. They’ll take care of the rest. God, there’s one in there –

And we were supposed to help Dorothy find her way back home.

Meh, don’t worry about Dorothy. I don’t think she’s ready to go home. Even after the ping-pong bullshit of the past few weeks, she’s still standing on her own two feet. Although Toto continues to be a mild pain…

But –

But nothing. Dorothy’s had the power to get her own ass home this entire time. When’s she’s ready, she’ll go.

Okay, well, obviously you’re not going to be of any help as you seem preoccupied with spying on your neighbors. So, I’m going to need to borrow the hot air balloon. Where’d you put it?

Oh, it’s on the—wait! If you take our balloon, how am I supposed to get around? I’m not staying here indefinitely. There’s no air conditioning in this damn apartment!

How about I promise to come back for you? Maybe.

Damn you. Fine, I’ll go with you. Let me get my shit together. Here, hold my camera – and don’t drop it!

Hmph, this is heavy. How does it work? I just look through this and… <points camera towards apartment across the way> Oh – this is interesting. What the hell did you say was going on over there? “…[S]tart from the beginning…Tell me everything you saw – and what you think it means.”

You know those days when you have no choice but to catch up on the work you’ve been blowing off for the past few days (maybe even weeks)? Well, last week, I was having one of those days. The work I’d been pushing down my list for weeks finally needed to be addressed. Regardless of how mind-numbing it was, it had to get done otherwise things were going to start going awry.

I’m one of those people who – when working on the mundane – has a mind that tends to wander every few minutes or so. I find myself Googling things like, “What is the fastest animal on the planet?” And, for your own Useless Knowledge, the cheetah’s land speed of 60+ mph doesn’t come close to the peregrine falcon’s dive bomb of 240+ mph.

Anyway, to keep my mind from wandering, I usually have something running in the background to force my brain into paying attention to two things at once – somehow that helps me maintain focus. The most popular “something” is almost always one of the many (quite possibly too many) British detective shows available for streaming. But, the other day, I simply wasn’t in the mood to rewatch Season 3 of “Dalgliesh” for the seventh time.

So, after a bit of scrolling, I put on an old movie I hadn’t seen in years: “Rear Window.”

The 1954 original, of course.

I’m rarely impressed by anything put out by Modern Hollywood, but the old shit – well, there are some legit classics out there, including this one.

One of the reasons I’ve always been fond of this movie is because you go into it knowing the “bad guy” right from the word “go.” I’m one of those extremely annoying people who can guess the villain within the first few chapters of a book, or within the first twenty or so minutes of a movie (like I said, I am rarely impressed by Hollywood). However, I will admit, one book did slip by me. Damn you, Agatha Christie. Honestly, though, the thrill I felt with being wrong was far more memorable than anything I’ve ever felt with being right. Good or bad, a surprise always leaves its imprint, doesn’t it? Plus, the hysterical elation my father must have felt – and later exhibited – knowing I was going into the final few chapters wrong – well, damn him, too. And, no, the book was not “Three Act Tragedy.” That one was quite easy.

Okay, enough about Ms. Christie. Back to Mr. Hitchcock.

As I sat busily typing away and listening to the dialogue of “Rear Window” playing in the far reaches of my office, it suddenly occurred to me that the parallels between “Rear Window” and the Lukola fandom were rather, well, thought-provoking. Here we have a man (and later his sidekicks) peering into the personal life of another human being. Our protagonist in “Rear Window” witnesses an event (a cover-up, actually) and sets out to prove it – all from the perspective of an onlooker looking in. Sound familiar? I thought it might.

So, welcome to your course on “Rear Window Ethics.”

Now, I cannot intertwine “Rear Window” with the Lukola fandom without dragging your ass into the story. Actually, I could – but it’s far more entertaining for me (and hopefully you) if I form a nexus between you and the movie.

Therefore, you, of course, get to align yourself with L.B. Jefferies (played in real life by Jimmy Stewart). If you’re still in this fandom, it’s because you’ve witnessed something you simply cannot ignore and you’re almost certainly hellbent on proving it at this point.

It’s very likely most of you entered the Lukola fandom alone. You watched some portion of the World Tour and became intrigued. Your mind began to wander, which sparked some urge in you to do some digging. Eventually your investigation led you to the Devil – sorry, I mean, social media. There you met like-minded junior investigators, and you’ve now found yourself chatting with these newfound friends and theorizing in the burrows of underground group chats.

So, about your sidekicks…

The part of “Stell-aaaaaa!!!!” (yes, that is my hat-tip to Jake) is given to your most “inventive” Lukola friend. You know, the one that has their own “theories” channel in your private chats; the one who scurries down the rabbit hole – not in search of the White Rabbit – but in search of the Cheshire Cat. Stella is the reason you think outside the box. In “Rear Window,” Stella (played by Thelma Ritter) is Jefferies’ nurse (Jefferies is injured and bound to his apartment; hence why he has so much free time to gaze out the rear window). This friend will throw anything and everything against the wall to see what sticks – even if it occasionally takes a deep-dive into how to cut up a body in a bathtub.

Next, we have Detective Doyle, Jefferies’ long-time friend (played by Wendell Corey). Doyle is quite possibly your spouse, haha, or anyone who side-eyes your involvement with this fandom. Doyle half listens to Jefferies’ theories and usually counters Jefferies with an alternative piece of evidence. But don’t fret, although Doyle teases Jefferies about his wild theories throughout the film, Doyle is, in fact, supportive of Jefferies and does comes around in the end.

I’m going to switch gears for a moment but not before acknowledging that, yes, I am aware I’m missing a player here. Don’t worry – she will arrive shortly.

Alright, on to our subject matter: Lars Thorwald.

Thorwald (played by Raymond Burr) is our straight-outta-Hitchcock-baddie who has been spotted by Jefferies trying to cover up the murder of his wife. The obvious parallels I’m going to draw between “Rear Window” and the Lukola fandom are (1) Thorwald’s crime being equivalent to the World Tour and everything that has happened thereafter, and (2) Jefferies’ obsession with proving Thorwald is guilty being comparable to the fandom’s obsession with proving Lukola is real.

Now, I’m going to get the ball rolling by fast-forwarding through the World Tour all the way up to where I last left you – the post-release of “Mis-Directed.” Recall that shortly before the book’s release, in a surprise turn of events, Luke appeared with Antonia at the Boss event held January 30. However, this was almost immediately negated by Luke snubbing Antonia post-event (and perhaps even more shockingly, Antonia’s mirrored lack of acknowledgement of Luke). And try as Nicola might, there’s no skirting around the innuendo made throughout that fan-fic of a book.

“Watson! Get up! There’s fuckery afoot!”

Who the hell are you?

I’m Dad. Who are you?

Ah, not that guy!

Yes, that guy. Of course, Dad has entered the room. After all I needed someone to fill the role of Lisa Fremont (also known as Grace Kelly). Lisa is your Lukola friend with the highest degree of common sense. She takes the “evidence” presented and looks at it with some realism. She is never going to take the Dwight Shrute Route and state something as “Fact,” but she is the one you rely on to delineate between what makes sense and what doesn’t. In short, this is your friend who understands human nature.

Alright, before I really get this ball rolling –

Since I’ve now added a third wheel (Dad) to the back-and-forth dialogue of my two wizard-chasing-balloon-riding-time-traveling-narrators, I suppose I should also give these two imbeciles names.

You first.

Uh, well, I’m Charley and that’s –

I’m Crowd.

Full credit for these two make-believe idiots is given to my dad. He created the personas of “Charley and the Crowd” for my two nieces a few years ago. They would show him their dolls and my dad would narrate what was going on in their stories. Of course, my nieces regularly corrected him with, “No, Papá, that is not what Barbie is doing!” Still, Charley and the Crowd stuck around, playing the role of two, usually counter-productive and sometimes ignored, news anchors at a Macy’s Day Parade-like event hosted by my nieces’ massive collection of L.O.L. Dolls.

And just for clarity’s sake, during the dialogue between Charley, Crowd, and Dad, actual statements made by Dad will be in quotations. Any statement not in quotations was added simply to move the story along.

Let’s begin (finally).

In “Rear Window,” every time Jefferies and his sidekicks present their findings to Detective Doyle attempting to prove Thorwald’s guilt, they are thwarted by evidence discovered by Doyle’s investigation. It’s a constant back-and-forth throughout the movie; however, regardless of how “solid” Doyle’s evidence is that Anna Thorwald is still alive, Jefferies remains sat on the hill that Thorwald killed his wife. It was this parallel – not the peeping Tom aspect of the movie – that piqued my interest last week. No matter what was thrown at him, Jefferies remained steadfast in his opinion Thorwald murdered his wife. Nothing budged him. I realized Jefferies’ level of resilience mirrored every diehard Lukola’s reaction to every piece of contradictory evidence thrown at them. Nothing budges them.

The tail-end of January and all of February was a bit wild in the Lukola fandom. I mean, there were a lot of narratives being thrown around only to be counteracted by another event. As I mentioned earlier, we ended January with the Boss event but that flame was quickly extinguished by Luke and Antonia’s complete lack of follow-up. Luke had the perfect opportunity to make it “official” with Antonia – to finally shut down the Lukola shippers – but he didn’t.

Crowd: Antonia not doing anything with it is the biggest tell, in my opinion.

I’m not going to spend much time rehashing the Boss event because I already discussed it in Entry 18 (link below), but I will touch on two things that I believe deserve an Honorable Mention.

The first being –

Charley: Why didn’t Antonia have her phone or even a handbag at the Boss event?

I mention this little detail because it was echoed at the BAFTA afterparty Luke attended with Antonia on February 16. In fact, I suspect this may be the modus operandi when Antonia attends an event with Luke – she is not given the opportunity to have a phone with her. One would think, at the very least, you would see Antonia entering and/or leaving an event with some kind of handbag or clutch. But we have pictures of Antonia entering both the Boss event and BAFTA afterparty without one. I will acknowledge we don’t see her leave these two events; however, if we rewind time, Antonia does not have a handbag with her during Papsmear.

Dad: “Well, that’s extremely odd.”

I don’t believe I’ve mentioned it before – at least not on this blog – that my dad has an eye for women’s fashion. My sisters and I grew up under his critical eye and, to this day, my father doesn’t know where he went wrong with my older sister. This is entirely why he was given the part of Lisa Fremont, the movie’s style icon in the form of Grace Kelly. The fact that Antonia is never seen with any type of handbag at these events sparked his interest.

Dad: “[It seems] they [at a minimum Luke] wanted complete control [of what Antonia could take away from the event]. No handbag. Nowhere to hide a phone. No rogue pictures floating about.”

Charley: Yes, it does seem that way.

The second event I wanted to mention was – although neither Luke nor Antonia liked the Boss grid post of the two of them entering that event together – Nicola did. Now, this wasn’t an immediate like. In fact, Nicola waited almost two weeks to like the post, on February 12.

Crowd: The day before Nicola went back and liked that post, that video was being dissected across social media.

Dad: Why?

Charley: Because it was suggested Luke said, “Let’s get this done,” as he walked inside the event with Antonia.

Dad: “I don’t hear shit.”

I will admit, when this video was initially sent to me, I didn’t hear anything except the background noise. However, when I was told what was allegedly being said, I was able to hear it. This very well could be the power of suggestion but the timing of Nicola’s like on this post is, at a minimum, noteworthy.

Once we leave the Boss event, we stumble right into “Mis-Directed.” I’ll post the links to my review of that book at the end. It is what it is – and it’s a whole lot of…umm, yeah…maybe Dad said it best.

Dad: “Either your Lukola thing is real, or Ireland is a psychopath.”

Crowd: Seriously, who let this guy in here?

I’m going to have to hard agree with my dad on this one. Not necessarily about Nicola being a “psychopath,” but the references made in the book are too on the nose for it not to be intentionally Lukola- and/or Polin-coded.

I’m also convinced this book was edited after the World Tour, with the most obvious example of this being demonstrated with the quote: “The dates here coincided with the time period of Leicester Square… Below the words was a symbol of a V-shaped flying dove. At first glimpse, it strongly resembled two raised fingers.” If our duo is to be believed, Luke and Nicola had no idea prior to the World Tour that the fandom would go wild over Colin’s fingers. But after the release of Part 1, any mention of “two raised fingers” would send the fandom into a feeding frenzy. And it’s such an extremely random bit of innuendo, I have trouble believing the author came up with it on her own.

Charley: When you think about it, if Antonia hadn’t shown up at the Boss event, the Lukola fandom would have taken the book as confirmation that Lukola was real.

Indeed, a hefty portion of the fandom would have done just that. The fandom was already convinced that Luke and Nicola spent the holidays together – even without direct evidence – because there was evidence that Luke and Nicola did not spend the holidays with Antonia and Jake, respectively.

Antonia appeared to be with family at Christmas and in the Maldives over New Year’s – without making even the slightest insinuation that Luke was with her.

Jake seemingly spent the holidays with Dylan B., as demonstrated by his pre-Christmas stories with Dylan in their (basically) adjacent hometowns – without Nicola, who, by her own account, was in Galway. Jake and Dylan’s Christmas stories were followed up with their jointly hosted New Year’s Eve party – at which Nicola was not present (as evidenced by Nicola’s comment to an attendee’s New Year’s Eve post: “Have the best night miss yous”).

Dad: “It is weird they [Nicola and Jake / Luke and Antonia] wouldn’t spend any of the holidays together. One? Sure, maybe. But all? No.”

But, even with that statement, my dad chose to play the role of Detective Doyle (a/k/a the Devil’s Advocate of “Rear Window”) regarding the holidays because –

Dad: “Misty [Antonia] was with her dance troupe. Jake was with his friends. Ireland was doing her thing. But no one knows where Thang [Luke] was. Everyone else has a trail except him, which is odd. He could have been with Ireland, but you can’t prove it, so what you have is not really evidence.”

Charley: Thanks, Dad.

But, let’s face it, my dad is right. There’s no solid evidence that Luke and Nicola spent their holidays with each other or anyone else. You can apply the same theory to the birthdays. The only “evidence” we have that two people did not spend a birthday together was Jake posting a belated birthday greeting to Nicola followed by Nicola posting what appeared to be an intimate birthday dinner for two, presumably from the night before. We can surmise Nicola’s birthday date was not Jake, otherwise he would not have posted the late greeting.

About Jake’s birthday –

Crowd: Oh, yeah, “hard launch No. 54” because Nicola used a red heart in her birthday story to him.

Charley: You mean the same one she used in a story for another friend just the other day?

Crowed: Yep.

Dad: “I don’t know what to say about those people [the Jakolas]. They need to resubmerge or something. There’s no relationship there [between Jake and Nicola].”

The Jakolas are banking this “hard launch” on the fact Nicola posted a birthday story for Jake, but not for Luke, and vice versa. These are the same people who will argue that Luke and Antonia not posting about each other’s birthdays is because they’re private – but, in the same breath, refuse to acknowledge Luke and Nicola may not post about each other’s birthdays because they’re private.

I believe it’s worth mentioning that no one from the Bridgerton cast except James Phoon posted about Nicola’s birthday on January 9. When Nicola acknowledged her birthday greetings the day after, she did not repost Phoon’s story nor did she repost fan-favorite JVN’s birthday story. And I should have placed bets on this next part – no one from the Bridgerton cast posted about Luke’s birthday on February 5. Surely, I’m not the only person who saw – and anticipated – the comraderie there.

What the Jakolas should have been focusing on with Jake’s birthday was the fact that it was Dylan and Becky’s boyfriend that were wearing matching “Jecky” shirts at their joint birthday party. No one else had that shirt except for the two people believed to be their significant others. Although I’m not fully convinced Jake is dating Dylan, I am one hundred percent convinced Jake would date Dylan over Nicola.

Charley: What’s next?

Crowd: God, there was so much shit going on in February! Uhh, let’s jump to Valentine’s Day. Nicola attended the IFTA’s with her mother and sister, and Luke attended a GQ dinner event alone.

This holiday follows in the same vein as the previously noted holidays, except it’s Nicola and (amazingly!) Luke that are both accounted for. Jake was presumed to be in Sheffield rehearsing for his play; and Antonia was nowhere to be found, not even at the GQ dinner.

However, Antonia does make a brief reappearance at a BAFTA afterparty alongside Luke on February 16.

Crowd: But it was a repeat of the Boss event. The next day, neither acknowledged the other.

Charley: And Luke was reported to have left the party after only an hour – without Antonia. He even posted a picture of himself getting into a car alone.

Dad: To me, “[i]t seems like Thang took his dog [Antonia] for a walk and left her at the dog park.”

Two days later, Luke – actually out for a walk – is papped getting coffee, alone. Is it horrible of me to say that the most exciting thing about these pictures was the untucked versus tucked shirt? I’m not even sure why I’m taking the time to mention this except I felt there would be some side-eye if I did not.

And to be honest, I’ve left out some details and minor events from the months of January and February because, if I were to add them, this post would be twice as long as it already is. For example, don’t get me started on sunburns, tan lines, and “sunny places.”

If we were in the movie, “Rear Window,” everything stated up until this point would run parallel to the back-and-forth between Detective Doyle and our Trio of Peeping Toms. Evidence is presented by the Trio, which is then countered by Doyle. Doyle’s evidence is dismissed by the Trio because, again, they’re hellbent on proving their case, so they continue theorizing and digging into Thorwald. All that leads up to the movie’s climax.

Charley: Have we finally made it to the SAG?

Crowd: Yes, yes, we have.

Charley: Dad – Dad – wake up!

Dad: Huh?

Alright, the fucking SAG awards. This would be about the point in “Rear Window” where Lisa gets caught by Thorwald rifling through his belongings in search of evidence. We’re in the audience biting our nails because Jefferies can’t do a damn thing to help Lisa except watch everything unfold. And that’s what we did with the SAG awards. The entire Lukola fandom was hyper-focused on Luke and Nicola – and they did not disappoint.

Forget all the drama we endured from the sideshow characters and the nonsense that came with them.

Forget Luke being AWOL for six months.

Forget everything except the “hug heard ‘round the world.”

The ice was broken; the champagne was flowing. Luke and Nicola’s joint SAG appearance was like the World Tour on steroids.

Dad: Can I say something?

Crowd: Fuck. What?

Dad: “It was their season, right? So, their joint appearance on the red carpet wasn’t earth shattering. Neither was them sitting together. It was their night to celebrate.”

Crowd: Who invited this wet blanket to the party?

Dad: I wasn’t done. “Their season has run its course, right? They’ve ‘graduated.’ So why are they the focus of mainstream media?”

Charley: <thinking> Because there’s something newsworthy there?

That is your climax. Not their SAG appearance – because everyone can have their own interpretation of Luke and Nicola’s behavior and those interviewers’ Q&A’s – it was the mainstream media going ga-ga over Luke and Nicola that sent the Lukola narrative tumbling out the window. If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll understand that reference.

By the following day, Luke and Nicola were everywhere. I genuinely appreciate the “Librarians” of the private group chats – those people who track and record every single post, story, like, non-like, follow, unfollow, literally everything – their job was grueling last week. The Sincerely Ignorant Lukolas who jumped ship months ago were frantically trying to climb back on board, while the Jakolas were desperately trying to find their Dramamine. The Defectors went silent except to remind their hive of hornets not to worry; that they will get “a reminder soon…”

Charley: A reminder of what?

Crowd: Oh, that there are two side characters floating about.

Well, lo and behold – right on schedule – a random picture of Luke and Antonia in an elevator surfaced the day after the SAG awards. The problem with the picture was that it was dismissed by Lukolas almost immediately. The account that dropped the picture on X was suspicious. Antonia’s hair and clothing seemed “so last year.” The Lukolas were far more focused on Luke and Nicola liking anything and everything to do with the SAG that day than to pay any attention to the “same old song and dance” about Antonia. Even Nicola liking Jake’s very bland “Nicola” comment on her grid post was dismissed with a “shooing” wave of the hand and an uninterested half laugh.

On February 25, the “insinuation” pictures were at it again. In fact, it was a rather busy day. An event host posted a picture of what appeared to be Antonia perfectly centered at an L.A. hotel pool. The story was reposted by the hotel itself. In fact, that’s the only reason the picture was found by the fandom. A new elevator picture of Luke and Antonia dropped; however, it, too, was dismissed fairly quickly, regardless of it being dropped by a different, less dubious X account. The Lukolas just didn’t give a fuck about Antonia. Luke was the subject of a blind that insinuated he had spent most of his time at the SAG looking in a mirror. And the evening was rounded out by something that would have rocked the boat in June 2024 but had little effect in February 2025 – Nicola followed Antonia on Instagram and vice versa!

Oh, shit – Jefferies just lost his grip and fell out the “Rear Window.” But he didn’t die! So, that’s a plus.

The following day, February 26, Antonia started to remove tags from her Instagram account including the “Soho” New Year's 2024 picture of Luke and his friend group, which included Antonia. And Nicola responded to the “mirror” blind about Luke with “I can confirm this is 100% not true [laughing/crying emoji].” So, interestingly, we had Antonia backing further away from Luke and Nicola stepping up to defend him.

Crowd: So, where do we go from here?

That’s a good question. The thing I’ve learned through this “course” is that the Lukolas are now unmoved by the shenanigans happening around them. You can serve Antonia to them on a silver platter, and they’ll flag down the waiter and ask them to return her to the kitchen. And you won’t find Jake anywhere on their menu (hence why I didn’t even bother to mention Jake’s play).

Dad: I think “the whole thing has run its course.”

It really has. The Lukolas are tired but unyielding. At this point, they just want their version of Thorwald to confess. The narratives running parallel to each other (i.e., Lukola vs. Jakola vs. Lutonia) can’t go on much longer. One of them is going to crack under the pressure.

Remember, “Three can keep a secret…”

P.S.

Dad: “Is Ireland still wearing that ring?”

Me: Yes.

Dad: “Then why did you call me?”

Me: <deep sigh>

#lukola #nicola coughlan #luke newton #my thoughts #my opinion #speculation only #my humor

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omiomi · 3 days ago

Text

Master list

Part 6

Code Red: Unfinished Sutures (Part 7)

Baek Kang-Hyuk x Fem!Reader

The first thing Y/N felt was warmth. A slow, steady heat pressed against her skin, traveling through her veins like a quiet reminder that she was still alive.

The second thing she felt was pain. Dull and heavy, curling in her chest with every breath she took.

The third was him.

Baek Kang-Hyuk was slumped forward in a chair beside her, head bowed, his hand wrapped around hers like a lifeline. His grip was strong—almost too tight—but she didn’t mind. It grounded her.

She tried to speak, but her throat was too dry. She swallowed and tried again. “Malak…”

His head shot up so fast she thought he might have hurt himself. Bloodshot eyes met hers, filled with exhaustion, relief, and something deeper—something raw and unguarded.

“Y/N,” he breathed. His voice cracked.

She managed a weak smile. “Did you… cry?”

Baek exhaled sharply, a sound caught between a laugh and a scoff. He rubbed a hand over his face. “You almost died, and that’s the first thing you say?”

Her fingers twitched in his grasp. “Did I?”

His jaw tightened. “You were gone for a moment. You lost so much blood—” He stopped himself, exhaling shakily. “I had to transfuse mine while operating. If you had—”

He broke off.

Y/N’s chest ached, but not from her injuries. She had seen Baek serious before, even afraid, but never like this. Never like he was standing on the edge of something he couldn’t bear to lose.

“You saved me,” she murmured.

Baek let out a breath, slow and unsteady. “I couldn’t let you die. Not after everything. Not after waiting so damn long for you to be ready.”

Y/N frowned. “Ready?”

“For us.” His fingers tightened around hers. “For you to find your own reason to live. Your own identity outside of this place. So that when you chose to come with me, it would be because you wanted to, not because I asked you to.”

Her heart clenched. “Kang-Hyuk…”

He shook his head. “I never wanted to take you away from Black Wings if you weren’t ready. I never wanted you to follow me just because of what we have. But damn it, Y/N—” His voice broke. “I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Y/N stared at him, her breath shallow.

It was always unspoken between them. A love tangled between stitches, between lives saved and lost, between the battlefield and the quiet moments in between. They had never needed to say it.

But now, with the weight of near-death between them, silence wasn’t enough.

She reached up with trembling fingers and cupped his cheek. His breath hitched, eyes dark and searching.

“Then take me with you,” she whispered.

His whole body went still.

She let out a small, shaky laugh. “I don’t know how to live outside of this place. But if you’ll have me, I’ll learn. I want to learn.”

Baek inhaled sharply, as if trying to hold himself together. But then, in the next moment, he was leaning in—so close she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips.

“Say it again,” he murmured.

Her heart pounded. “Take me with you.”

Baek Kang-Hyuk closed the space between them.

The kiss was everything and nothing like she imagined. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was steady, certain. A vow sealed between them, whispered through lips that had seen too much war and too little peace.

She melted into him, fingers curling into his shirt, and Baek held her like he never intended to let go.

And for once, he wouldn’t have to.

Because this time, she was choosing him, too.

—

Y/N hated feeling weak.

She had spent years training her body, sharpening her skills, surviving war zones most people wouldn’t last a day in. But now, she was stuck in a hospital bed, her body stitched together by Baek’s hands and sheer luck.

She let out a slow breath, shifting slightly against the pillows. Even that small movement sent a dull ache rippling through her body.

“Don’t even think about moving,” Baek’s voice came from the doorway.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. He had been hovering ever since she woke up, and though she’d never admit it, a part of her found it… comforting.

Baek walked into the room, carrying a tray. “Brought you food,” he said, setting it down on the table beside her. “You need to eat.”

She eyed the tray suspiciously. “Did you make it?”

Baek scoffed. “You think I have time to cook?”

“Then I might actually eat it.”

Baek gave her a dry look but didn’t argue. Instead, he adjusted the blankets around her—fussily, she noted—and sat down on the chair beside her bed.

Y/N studied him for a moment. His face was sharper than usual, dark circles under his eyes, his usual cocky smirk replaced by something quieter.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

Baek shrugged. “Since we got back.”

She frowned. “That was—”

“Two weeks ago.”

She blinked. Two weeks?

“You haven’t left?”

Baek leaned back, crossing his arms. “Where the hell else would I be?”

Before she could respond, a sudden knock interrupted them.

Baek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “That’s them.”

“Them?”

Before he could explain, the door swung open, revealing three unfamiliar faces.

“Finally!” Jae-Won stepped inside, arms crossed. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up, you know.”

Beside him, Jang-Mi with neatly tied hair and a clipboard tucked under her arm sighed. “Dr. Baek has been an absolute menace these past two weeks. You’ve caused us so much trouble.”

Gyeong-Won nodded quickly. “We had to drag him out of here just to make sure he didn’t pass out.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, glancing at Baek. “They sound like they know you well.”

Baek pinched the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately.”

Y/N blinked at them, then turned to Baek. “So these are the people keeping you in check?”

Baek exhaled. “Barely.”

Jae-won grinned. “He’s been a pain in the ass ever since he got back. Snapping at everyone, refusing to leave this room—”

“I was not snapping—”

“—and scaring the interns half to death,” Jang-Mi finished.

Y/N smirked. “Sounds about right.”

Baek shot her an unimpressed look.

Jae-won nudged her foot lightly, careful not to touch any of her injuries. “But seriously. He’s been out of his mind worried about you.”

Y/N glanced at Baek, who was suddenly very interested in the floor.

She softened.

“Well,” she said, meeting Baek’s gaze. “I’m still here.”

Baek exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he murmured. “You are.”

And for the first time since waking up, she let herself breathe.

—

The hospital rooftop was quiet, the city lights stretching endlessly beyond the railing. A cool breeze carried the scent of rain, the sky painted in hues of deep blue and fading gold.

Y/N stood at the edge, leaning against the railing, the wind playing with the loose strands of her hair. She inhaled deeply, letting the crisp air fill her lungs.

She was alive.

The thought had settled into her bones over the past few weeks, but it still felt… surreal. Black Wings was behind her now. The life she had known—the one that had once defined her—was gone. And yet, here she was. Still standing.

“You shouldn’t be up here.”

She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Baek.

“You say that every time,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.

Baek stood a few feet away, hands in the pockets of his white coat, watching her with that same unreadable expression he always wore when he was thinking too much.

Y/N smirked. “Shouldn’t you be working, Dr. Baek?”

“I should be.” He stepped closer. “But you’re more important.”

Something in her chest tightened.

He stopped beside her, resting his arms on the railing as he looked out over the city. For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then—

“What now?”

Baek’s voice was quiet, but there was something beneath it. A careful question.

Y/N let out a breath. “I don’t know.”

Baek hummed. “Liar.”

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

His gaze flickered to her. “You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”

She hesitated, then exhaled. “I’ll stay.”

Baek didn’t react at first. Then, slowly, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“I knew you’d come around.”

Y/N scoffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Baek chuckled, shaking his head. But there was something warm in his expression, something that made her feel steady, like she wasn’t just floating in uncertainty anymore.

Like she belonged.

After a moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hospital ID. He held it up between them, the dim light reflecting off the plastic.

Her name was printed on it.

Y/N stared. “You—”

“I pulled some strings,” Baek said casually. “Figured you’d need a place to start.”

Y/N took the ID slowly, running her fingers over the letters. Dr. Y/N.

Her throat tightened.

She looked up at Baek, finding him already watching her.

“Welcome to the team, Malaika,” he said softly.

Y/N swallowed.

Then, before she could second-guess herself, she reached for his hand.

Baek blinked, caught off guard, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled around hers, warm and steady.

For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid of the future.

Because this time, she wasn’t facing it alone.

—

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store hummed softly overhead, casting a sterile glow over the aisles lined with instant meals, snacks, and drinks. It was a quiet night, the streets outside empty save for a few distant headlights, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Baek Kang-Hyuk had nothing to do but stand beside Y/N as she debated which ramyeon to buy.

She tapped her chin in exaggerated thought. “Should I get spicy or extra spicy?”

Baek gave her a flat look. “You cried last time you had extra spicy.”

Y/N gasped, clutching her chest as if personally wounded. “I did not!”

Baek smirked. “You did. You downed three bottles of milk after, and then you swore you were ‘never eating again.’”

She huffed, turning back to the shelf. “Maybe I was just being dramatic.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe?”

Y/N swatted his arm. “Fine. I’ll get the regular spicy.” Then she turned to him with a teasing glint in her eyes. “And you, Dr. Baek? Still going for the mild one?”

Rolling his eyes, he grabbed a cup of spicy ramyeon and tossed it into the basket. “I can handle spice.”

“Sure you can, Malak,” she said, smirking as she walked to the register.

Baek followed her, shaking his head but smiling.

As they reached the counter, the elderly cashier glanced up at them, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Newlyweds?” she asked, ringing up their items.

Baek choked on air.

Y/N, however, just grinned, tilting her head playfully. “Something like that.”

And just like that, the warmth in Baek’s chest grew a little stronger.

—

The world outside their window was slowly waking up—birds chirping, the occasional car passing by—but inside their small apartment, everything was still and quiet.

Baek stirred first, his body instinctively attuned to early mornings, but the weight against his chest made him hesitate before moving.

Y/N was curled up against him, her face buried in his shirt, her breathing slow and even. One of her arms was draped over his stomach, her fingers loosely curled against his side as if she had fallen asleep mid-thought.

Baek sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He had never been the type to stay in bed longer than necessary, but this—having her warm and safe in his arms—made the idea of moving seem absurd.

A soft mumble escaped Y/N’s lips.

Baek glanced down. “Did you just call me ‘Malak’ in your sleep?”

She groaned, shifting but not pulling away. “Shut up.”

He smirked. “Never.”

Y/N buried her face deeper into his chest. “Five more minutes.”

Baek exhaled, shaking his head. “Hopeless.”

But he tightened his hold around her and closed his eyes again. Maybe, just this once, he could stay.

—

The soft strumming of a song played from Y/N’s phone, filling their small living room with a gentle melody. She swayed lightly to the rhythm, barefoot, the fading sunset casting golden light over her figure.

Baek sat on the couch, arms crossed, watching her with an amused expression.

“You know I don’t dance,” he said.

Y/N turned to him, hands on her hips. “You stitch people up like it’s nothing, but this scares you?”

He frowned. “It’s different.”

She grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. “It’s not. You just follow my lead.”

Baek hesitated, then let out a resigned sigh. He let her place his hands on her waist as she rested hers lightly on his shoulders.

“Just sway,” she murmured, guiding him in slow, simple movements.

At first, he was stiff, too focused on getting it right, but Y/N smiled up at him—so effortlessly, so freely—and something in him melted.

He exhaled, relaxing into the rhythm.

Then, without thinking, he twirled her.

She let out a surprised laugh, her joy infectious. “Look at you, Dr. Baek. Who knew you had moves?”

He smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

Y/N rested her forehead against his, her voice softer now. “Too late.”

And as they swayed in the quiet of their home, Baek realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind dancing as much as he thought.

—

Baek had always been the type to focus intensely when studying, while Y/N had a habit of making notes… and then promptly falling asleep in the middle of them.

Tonight was no different.

He looked up from his textbook to find her slumped over the table, her head resting on her folded arms, soft breaths escaping her lips. Highlighters and open medical journals were scattered around her, her pen still loosely gripped in her fingers.

Baek sighed, shaking his head. “Hopeless,” he muttered under his breath.

Carefully, he pushed back a few strands of hair that had fallen over her face, tucking them behind her ear. He let his fingers linger for just a moment, tracing the soft curve of her cheek before exhaling.

Then, without waking her, he scooped her up in his arms.

Y/N stirred slightly, her head lolling against his shoulder. “Where we going…?” she murmured sleepily.

“To bed,” he said softly.

“Mmm… ‘kay,” she mumbled, curling into his warmth.

Baek chuckled. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Even half-asleep, she smirked. “You love me.”

And damn it, she was right.

Baek exhaled softly, tightening his hold on her as if to ground himself in the reality that she was still here—warm, breathing, alive.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice rough with quiet conviction. “I do.”

Y/N made a sleepy sound of acknowledgment, her fingers curling weakly into his shirt, as if she knew, as if she had always known.

Baek carried her through the dimly lit hall, each step feeling heavier with the weight of everything they had been through. The fear of almost losing her, the years of waiting for her to be ready, the desperate, selfish need to keep her in his life.

But now, for the first time, he wasn’t just holding onto a memory or a fleeting moment. He was holding her—his future, his reason to keep going.

And this time, she was holding on just as tightly.

End

Taglist: @study-with-reine234 @redhoodedtoad @celestialstar111 @ryujinxzyy @urfictional

Thank you for accompanying me throughout Malak and Malaika’s journey! i hope we all find someone like Malak who would wait for us, and someone like Malaika who is worth waiting for. fear not, we’ll certainly see more of them in side stories and one shots!

#baek kang hyuk #baek kang hyuk x reader #baek kang hyuk x you #kdrama #netflix #the trauma code: heroes on call #x reader #baek kang-hyuk #ju ji hoon #fluff

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wanderingwolfwitcher · 3 days ago

Note

The Witcher savored the silence, save the crackling of the fire and the falling rain outside as he prepared their supper steadily, stirring the cooking pot he had set up over the fire, adding the ingredients of the stew. Working like this here in a cavern was nothing so new to him... but it felt surreal to be doing so on an island holding an eldritch cosmic entity, a cult and a lost city below. There was never a dull moment in the life of a Witcher, at least, however long one tread the Path. Destiny always found ways to pull the rug out from under him. Still, for the moment he felt relatively safe, their preparations made, as well as not having exposed himself to the corrupting power of many eldritch artifacts. When Sabrina squeezed his hand back and spoke up again, he stopped what he was doing and turned his viper eyes to her dark pair, surprised by what he heard. Something almost approaching regret. He couldn't say he was expecting that out of her. He was good at reading people though, with his experience and mutated senses, able to tell far more often than not when someone was lying... and knew her better than most. She didn't seem to be lying... especially in the state she was in, at present, vulnerable from the close brush with the Leviathan. He should have felt anger towards her... might again yet, but in that moment, their shared, complicated past felt thousands of miles away. At last, finding his words, his deep, grim voice returned to her just as honestly.

"Won't lie and pretend I haven't wanted to kill you. Deidre's blood is no less on your hands than it is on mine, with that Black Sun nonsense Eltibald and Stregobor cooked up... the Council you served enforcing it. Will pay them both a visit in Kovir, one day, loose ends I will tie up. It was all an excuse to grasp for the power of a Princess, destroy her life and drive her into insanity in pursuit of her magical mutations. Mages have always coveted mutations like the ones Alzur created, envious, why they destroyed our schools. And yet destiny bound you and me together all the same, no less than it did me to Deidre. A destiny I betrayed. When I heard Henselt put you to the fire and stake after your firestorm, I did not feel the relief and satisfaction I should have, only coldness. Yet all that is the past. Can't be undone, only learned from. I learn my lessons the same way as everyone else. The hard way. We have far bigger fish to fry anyways... of late. Saving the world, doing what a Witcher does best, is leagues more important to me than any hatred I feel for you. We're too old to waste vital time on the past, just now."

Eskel returned his attention gradually to his cooking in the wake of his words, before the crimson haired Sorceress pitched in to help with her magic, and as it had been with warding up the cavern, between them they cooked the meal in little time at all. Once it was prepared, he began to dig in, taking out his bottle of Mahakaman Spirit and White Gull as well, sipping it between bites, the welcome warmth burning in his throat and chest. For now they would eat and she would recuperate, and when they were ready they would wage war on the occupants of the island. Search out the answers they required. Likely he would have to kill most or all of them... the more he thought about it, the less likely it was there was anyone who lived on the island that hadn't been corrupted by the power of the Great Old Ones... the flesh of the Leviathan they had devoured. It would make things simpler if true, if not easier. Still, he was going to make damn sure that was the case, first. It was not a cat, bear or viper medallion hanging from his neck, last time he checked. He would hold on to his sanity and professionalism... all the more important now, considering the nature of what they were up against. When she spoke again, his eyes returned her way, jaw tightening a bit, and nodding his agreement. Speaking again between bites of his meal and sips of the hard drink. Thinking ahead, to their course of action when she was ready to move out.

"And make sure that damn cosmic octopus thing remains sleeping and imprisoned down there. Kill the Leviathan, if possible, or it will just keep trying to wake its master and father. We know it can be injured now, at least, back there with your portal. If we pull this off, would be best to magically reinforce whatever is holding Cthulhu and the Deep Ones in R'yleh. Alert the Arl of Skellige to make this island and the surrounding waters off limits to future visitors. As many precautions as possible. Even if we slay the cult here, and miraculously slay a Star-Spawn... you can bet there are others in the world, biding their time. We'll need to warn people, spread the word on these cults."

@fallesto

Sabrina took his words to heart, her eyes reflecting the flames in the fire as she nodded solemnly. They shared a quiet moment, the crackle of the fire and the patter of rain outside the only sounds in the vast cavern. She felt a warmth from his hand that seemed to chase away some of the chill that had settled into her bones. His grip was firm and comforting, a reminder of their shared history, of battles won and lost. In the quiet, she resolved to be more cautious, to listen to the wisdom that Eskel had gained over his long years fighting the darkness. She knew that she had been reckless, driven by her curiosity and desire to help, but she also knew that she could not change who she was entirely. Her nature was to seek knowledge, to push the boundaries of the known world, but she would do so with more thought for the consequences. Her hand tightened around his, a silent promise to be more mindful of the risks she took.

“I should have hired you in the past, to do more work for me, instead of everything that happened between us, I know deep down you hate me, and you would wish to kill me if not for fate, I understand it, but at the same time, I am who I am, and after all of this, maybe too much knowledge, is a bad thing, given how the northern lands have burned, witches are done in courts, and magic is not what people want anymore.”

She sighed as they sat there, the warmth from the fire began to dry their clothes, and the gentle scent of roasting meat filled the air. She would move her finger to bring forth the supplies, some rations to eat. The meal was simple, but it was hot and filling, a balm to their weary spirits. They ate in silence, their thoughts turning to the tasks that lay ahead. The cultists, the monsters, the very fabric of reality that seemed to be unraveling before their eyes. It was a heavy burden, but one they both knew they had to bear. As she nodded and would agree with him, Sabrina felt the weight of his words, and she knew that he was right. She had been too eager, too willing to dive into the abyss without considering the consequences. Her eyes never left the flickering flames, as if seeking answers in their dance. She had to be stronger, for herself, and for those who might still need her, which now was done to one person, him in a twisted way of fate being cruel. The warmth of his hand in hers was a reminder of the bond they shared, a bond forged in blood and magic.

"We'll face this together.” She said. "We're a good team, you and I. We need to keep it that way, we destroy the book, and all the cultsits."

#fallesto

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eeerrrrewsd · 18 hours ago

Text

Losing Game

Jason Todd x Reader

(Based on I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski)

Jason Todd had always been a losing bet.

You knew it the moment you met him—the way he carried himself like he had already lost everything worth holding onto. He wasn’t the kind of person people chose. Not for long, at least.

But you did.

You chose him, over and over, even when it hurt.

He was standing on the rooftop when you found him, cigarette smoke curling in the cold night air, the faint glow of Gotham’s neon lights casting sharp shadows across his face.

“You didn’t come back last night,” you said, stepping closer.

Jason exhaled, tilting his head slightly but not turning to face you. “Didn’t think you’d notice.”

You scoffed. “That’s funny, Jay. Really.”

Silence stretched between you, tense and brittle.

“Where’d you go?” you asked, softer this time.

Jason sighed, finally looking at you. His eyes were tired, bloodshot, the kind of exhaustion that sleep wouldn’t fix. “You know where.”

Of course you did.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you whispered.

Jason huffed out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You say that like it’s a choice.”

“It is a choice,” you said, stepping forward, closing the space between you. “You don’t have to throw yourself into every fight, every damn war like you’re trying to die.”

Jason clenched his jaw, looking away. “What do you want me to do, huh?” His voice was sharp now, cutting through the cold air. “Sit around and do nothing? Pretend everything’s fine? Because it’s not.”

You felt it then—the weight of it all pressing down on him, the way it always did.

He never let himself rest. Never let himself believe he deserved to.

“I just want you to want to live, Jason.”

That was it. That was the truth.

Jason stared at you, his breath coming out in shaky exhales. “I don’t know how,” he admitted, voice so quiet it barely reached you.

Your chest ached.

You reached for him, hesitated for only a second before pressing your forehead against his, fingers curling into the leather of his jacket. “Then let me show you.”

He let out a trembling breath, his hands hovering over your waist like he wasn’t sure he should touch you, like he didn’t trust himself not to ruin this too.

But you didn’t let him pull away.

You never did.

Jason closed his eyes, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, gripping onto you like you were the only thing tethering him to the ground.

And maybe, just maybe, you were.

But you couldn’t hold onto him forever.

Jason Todd had always been a losing bet.

And yet, you kept placing your heart in his hands, hoping—just this once—you wouldn’t lose.

#x reader #angst #dc universe #dc comics #jason todd x reader #comfort #jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #angst with comfort #fluff #angst x reader #mitski

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empressdede · 1 day ago

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The Secretary - 8

Chapter Eight

The next morning, Serena stepped into WWE Headquarters with her usual air of professionalism—but underneath it all, she was nervous as hell.

Last night had felt too good. Too easy. Too natural.

But now, in the harsh light of day, she had to remember who she was in this building: Serena Westbrook, Executive Secretary to the Tribal Chief. Not his almost-lover. Not the woman he kissed in a locked room. She had worked too hard for her reputation to let herself get caught up in something she wasn’t even sure could last.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her blazer and walked toward her office, determined to keep things professional.

But the second she stepped inside, she froze.

Roman was already there.

He was leaning against her desk, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching her with an expression that was way too unreadable for this early in the morning.

“Morning,” he greeted smoothly.

Serena blinked, gripping the strap of her bag. “Uh… morning.”

Roman’s lips twitched like he was fighting a smirk. “You nervous?”

Serena scoffed, stepping forward and setting her bag down. “Please. I don’t get nervous.”

Roman let out a quiet chuckle. “Right.”

Serena ignored him, booting up her computer and reaching for her planner. “What’s on your schedule today?”

Roman didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pushed off the desk and walked closer—so close that she could smell his damn cologne.

“I missed you this morning,” he said casually.

Serena’s breath caught.

She closed her eyes for a second, mentally cursing him and herself for how easily he could shake her.

“Roman,” she warned, keeping her voice even. “We’re at work.”

“I know,” he murmured, leaning just slightly over her shoulder. “I’m behaving, aren’t I?”

Serena clenched her jaw, gripping her pen a little too tightly. “You’re testing me.”

Roman smirked. “A little.”

Serena inhaled through her nose, flipping open her planner with more force than necessary. “You have a production meeting at eleven, a sponsorship call at two, and—”

“You look good today,” he interrupted.

Serena froze.

She turned slowly, narrowing her eyes. “Do you want to get me fired?”

Roman just smiled, looking entirely too relaxed. “I’m just making an observation.”

Serena glared at him. “Go to your office, sir.”

Roman chuckled, but finally took a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good.”

“Damn right you will,” she muttered, flipping through her notes.

Roman smirked on his way to the door. “See you at eleven, Miss Westbrook.”

Serena didn’t even look up. “Goodbye, Mr. Reigns.”

The second the door closed behind him, she let out a deep breath, pressing a hand to her forehead.

This man was going to drive her insane.

And the worst part? She wasn’t sure she even minded.

The rest of the morning went by without any major incidents—unless Serena counted the few times Roman caught her looking at him during the production meeting.

Which, to be fair, she wasn’t staring.

She was doing her job. Taking notes. Staying focused.

But Roman, being the absolute menace that he was, would occasionally glance over at her, like he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

And when the meeting ended, as everyone got up to leave, he had the audacity to lean in and murmur, “You sure you don’t wanna sit in on my next meeting? I like having you close.”

Serena had given him a perfectly professional, totally not panicked glare before shoving her notepad into her arms and walking straight out of the room without responding.

She wasn’t about to let him play games with her in front of everyone.

Now, back at her desk, she was doing her best to focus on emails when Naomi popped her head in, a knowing grin already on her face.

Serena groaned. “Nope. Whatever you’re about to say, nope.”

Naomi stepped all the way inside, closing the door behind her. “Girl, I saw you two in that meeting.”

Serena sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “There was nothing to see.”

Naomi scoffed. “Mmm-hmm. That’s why Roman was lookin’ at you like you were the only person in that room?”

Serena groaned again, dropping her head to her desk. “Kill me.”

Naomi laughed, sitting on the edge of the desk. “No can do. I’m too invested in this.”

Serena lifted her head. “There is no ‘this.’ We talked. We… handled things.”

Naomi raised a brow. “And by ‘handled things,’ you mean you finally admitted your feelings and kissed?”

Serena’s face burned. “Naomi.”

Naomi just grinned. “It’s about damn time. But what now?”

Serena sighed, staring down at her desk. “I don’t know. We agreed to take things slow. Keep it professional.”

Naomi folded her arms. “And how’s that workin’ out for you?”

Serena groaned. “It’s not.”

Naomi laughed again, shaking her head. “Girl, just let yourself have this. Roman ain’t out here playing. You see the way he looks at you?”

Serena bit her lip. She did.

And that was the problem.

She felt everything.

Naomi gave her a pointed look. “If you want this to work, you gotta stop running.”

Serena exhaled slowly. “I know.”

Naomi smirked, standing up. “Good. Now, I gotta go collect another bet from Jey, ‘cause I knew you’d try to act professional today and fail.”

Serena gaped at her. “You bet again?!”

Naomi winked. “Baby, I always bet on love.”

With that, she strutted out, leaving Serena sitting there, torn between wanting to scream and maybe admit that Naomi was right.

Maybe she was running. And maybe… it was time to stop.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Roman leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he listened to Jimmy run his mouth for the last five minutes.

“You just gonna let her run circles around you all day?” Jimmy asked, shaking his head. “Come on, Uce. You’re Roman Reigns. Since when do you just wait around?”

Roman smirked. “I told her I’d take things slow.”

Jimmy scoffed. “Slow don’t mean you let her pretend she ain’t feelin’ this.” He leaned forward. “She’s been dodging you all day, hasn’t she?”

Roman sighed. “More like trying really hard to keep it professional.”

Jimmy snorted. “And how’s that goin’?”

Roman chuckled, shaking his head. “Not great.”

“Exactly. So do her a favor—pull her aside and give her exactly what she’s been running from all day.”

Roman raised a brow. “And what’s that?”

Jimmy grinned. “Give her a kiss. A kiss never hurt nobody.”

Roman smirked. “You just want more money off these bets, don’t you?”

Jimmy held up his hands. “Hey, I ain’t gonna lie, I do love gettin’ paid.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “You and Naomi are a damn mess.”

Jimmy laughed. “Yeah, yeah. But am I wrong?”

Roman exhaled through his nose. “No.”

Jimmy clapped his hands together. “Aight then. Handle that, Tribal Chief.”

Roman didn’t say anything, just pushed back his chair and stood up.

He already knew exactly where Serena was.

And it was time to make sure she knew she didn’t have to run anymore.

Serena was standing by the conference room window, going over her notes for Roman’s next meeting, when she heard the door click shut behind her.

She turned, already knowing who it was before she even saw him.

Roman leaned against the door, arms crossed, watching her with that unreadable look that had been driving her crazy all day.

Serena straightened her posture. “Do you need something, Mr. Reigns?”

Roman smirked. “So we’re back to ‘Mr. Reigns’ now?”

Serena lifted her chin. “We’re at work, aren’t we?”

Roman exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Serena.”

She swallowed. “Roman.”

He took a slow step forward.

Serena immediately stepped back. “What are you doing?”

Roman didn’t stop. “Something I should’ve done earlier.”

Serena’s back hit the wall, and before she could even think about another escape, Roman was right there, boxing her in with his arms on either side of her.

Her breath hitched. “Roman, we can’t—”

“Why not?” His voice was low, his eyes locked onto hers. “Because we’re at work? Because you think I don’t mean this?”

Serena’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “Because I’m trying so hard to do this the right way.”

Roman leaned in just enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath. “And what if this is the right way?”

Serena’s resolve was hanging by a thread.

She had spent all day avoiding him, trying to convince herself that she could separate work from whatever this thing between them was.

But the way he was looking at her now—like he had always been sure of this, even when she wasn’t—made it impossible to think straight.

Roman lifted a hand, trailing his fingers along her jaw, tilting her chin up. “You still running, Serena?”

Serena swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

Roman’s gaze flickered to her lips. “Then let me help you figure it out.”

Before she could even take another breath, his lips were on hers.

And this time, she didn’t run.

She melted into him, gripping the front of his shirt as his arms wrapped securely around her, pulling her flush against him.

The kiss was slow, deep—like he had all the time in the world to make sure she felt everything.

By the time they pulled away, Serena was breathless, her heart pounding.

Roman rested his forehead against hers, smirking. “Still wanna pretend this isn’t happening?”

Serena let out a shaky breath, her fingers still curled into his shirt.

“…No.”

Roman chuckled. “Good.”

Serena sighed, finally relaxing against him. “You’re impossible.”

Roman smirked. “And you’re mine.”

Serena opened her mouth to argue—but she didn’t.

Because maybe… just maybe…

She didn’t want to fight this anymore.

Serena didn’t know how long they stood there, wrapped up in each other like they weren’t in the middle of work, like they weren’t supposed to be keeping things professional.

But honestly? She didn’t care.

Roman’s arms around her felt right. His warmth, the steady way he held her, like he knew she was going to try and talk herself out of this—out of them—and he wasn’t going to let her.

She sighed, pressing her forehead against his chest. “This is crazy.”

Roman hummed, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles against her lower back. “Yeah. But I don’t hear you complaining.”

Serena scoffed but didn’t move.

Because he was right. She wasn’t complaining.

She was terrified—but she wasn’t running.

That had to mean something.

After a moment, Roman leaned back just enough to look down at her, his hands steady on her waist. “Tell me what’s going through that mind of yours.”

Serena bit her lip.

The truth?

She had spent so long making sure she was taken seriously, working twice as hard to prove she deserved her spot in a world where people like her weren’t always given a fair chance.

She had built herself up to be untouchable, unshakable.

And then he happened.

Roman, with his impossible confidence, his patience, his steady way of looking at her like he knew her, even when she didn’t want to admit what was in her own heart.

She exhaled slowly. “I just…” She met his eyes. “This isn’t just a moment for you, is it?”

Roman’s expression didn’t even falter.

“Serena,” he said, his voice steady, certain, “I don’t do ‘moments.’ Not with you.”

Serena swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in her chest.

Before she could respond, there was a loud bang as the door suddenly swung open.

“YEEEAAAHH!!”

Jey Uso literally jumped into the room, throwing his arms up in victory. “I KNEW IT! I KNEW Y’ALL WAS GON’ STOP PLAYIN’!”

Jimmy walked in behind him, shaking his head with a smirk. “Took you long enough, Uce.”

Naomi strolled in last, folding her arms with a very satisfied smile. “Well, well, well. What was that about keeping it professional, Serena?”

Serena groaned, burying her face in Roman’s chest. “Somebody kill me.”

Roman just laughed, tightening his hold around her. “Y’all ain’t got no jobs to do?”

Jey waved him off. “Nah, this is way more important. We been workin’ overtime tryna get y’all together.”

Jimmy held a hand out to Naomi, who smirked and placed a crisp $50 bill in his palm.

Serena’s head snapped up. “Are you SERIOUS?!”

Naomi shrugged. “Baby, I always bet on love.”

Serena groaned again while Roman just grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much.

Jey nudged Jimmy. “You think we should leave ‘em alone?”

Jimmy shrugged. “I mean… we could.”

Jey smirked. “But it’s more fun to mess with ‘em.”

Serena glared. “I hate you all.”

Roman just chuckled, pulling her closer. “Nah, you love us.”

Serena sighed dramatically, but the warmth in her chest told her he was probably right.

And maybe, just maybe…

She was finally okay with that.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

VIP TAGLIST : @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @pr0tost4r @paigereeder @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01 @mzv11 @trippinsorrows @partypoison00 @isabella-2025 @jstarr86 @chrisevanswife0405 @fearlesschimera @cyberdejos2 @whowrotethenote @potatosackk @ajaxcleaningsupplies @sayyestoheav3nn @chasssssworld @christinabae @glittergirl7 @itskii01 @fame-ass-ers @li-da-savage @ashykneee @kianaleani @holisticcoach @pittieprincess22 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandairene88 @luvrsluxe

#empressdede #empresswriting #wwe #black reader #roman reigns #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x black reader #the secretary

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tvintedspvrkarc · 1 year ago

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𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗖𝗖𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟 : 3 / ∞

— 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 / 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 —

#{ BABY BOYYYYYYYYYY }#✧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ 🤍 ‧₊˚ ⋅ and my dumb ass just got completely wasted ⌗ asher .#✧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ 🤍 ‧₊˚ ⋅ but at least i found a home inside my head ⌗ lucas .#✧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ 🤍 ‧₊˚ ⋅ this is the last damn thing that i hold close to me ⌗ mika .#✧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ 🤍 ‧₊˚ ⋅ you and all of your new perspective now ⌗ visage .

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tonycries · 7 months ago

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I'm A BIG Stepper!

Synopsis. Too big? There’s no such thing as “too big”.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, saying it’s “too big”, FÉRAL boys, spítting, chokíng, them being big like REALLY big, cúmplay, oraI (male + fem), Choso’s rings, breéding, víbrators, creampíe, again - REALLY big, kinda mean Choso hehe, true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.7k

A/N. When you accidentally choose “thought daughter” and half your synopses are questions WHOOPS.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “That? M’bigger.”

“Yer killin’ me, doll.” Toji huffs out in ragged jealousy at those slow, sultry noises. “Look at you- just look at how she’s just begging f’me.”

Such cute lil’ whines leave your pretty lips as he works your puffy cunt open with that hot pink vibrator of yours. Soaked, thick - customized to the exact measurements of the achingly hard cock sat between his legs right now.

“B-but-” you gasp, eyeing down at the way your puffy folds were bulging around the toy. “S’barely even ngh- all the way in, Toji.”

“So?” he rolls his eyes. And Toji knows he’s being ridiculous, he knows it’s for his own good to stretch out your gummy walls so that you can take his massive size. But all it takes is another hard caress of that buzzing length against your poor g-spot for him to snap.

Eyes becoming crazed when your jaw falls slack, back arching up like such a slut up against his hard abs as you squeal, “Toji! Oh my god m’close—”

Close?

Suddenly, Toji can’t take it anymore - he needs to feel you wrapped around himself.

Now.

“M’gonna- wait what- ngh!” You’re batting your dewy eyes up at him when he drags the vibrator out with a loud squelch! All at once. Still reeling from disappointment, “Baby, why’d you-”

“Because.” he interrupts, and you keen when you feel the urgent throb! of Toji’s fat tip kissing at your swollen folds. Red and angry, leaking thick precum over your pussy lips in a pretty gloss. So mesmerizing that you almost miss the familiar flex of his thighs, the way his dark brows furrow in concentration. “-this pussy of yours says s’time for the real deal.”

It’s all that’s said before he’s suddenly dipping his girthy head just barely past your first ring of resistance. Difficult.

“Relax.” he hisses. Pushing in lingering, determined little grinds past each clench, still easy - still patient. For now. “Breathe f’me. Breathe f’me come on, She can do hah- do it, right, my girl?”

Shit, a part of him thinks he should’ve almost waited longer with the vibrator. Because Toji knows he’s big. He knows your cunt is so tight so heavenly he might just pass out right now. Until-

“Hngh! Toji!” you scramble onto your elbows when you feel his fat head finally bullies past to brush up against your hidden sweet spots. That little divot squeezing past to mark your walls inside. “You promised you’d hah- last longer with the oh vibrator tonight.”

Honestly, a part of Toji was impressed you were still able to form coherent sentences with the way you were being split apart on his monster cock.

He leans down to nuzzle your neck, “Awww, did I?” Hiking your limp legs further and further up his broad shoulders where he had you folded in half. “I don’t remember, maybe your pussy was jus’ c-calling t’me.”

“You- you liar!” you cry out, and he can’t help but grow impossibly harder. Fighting off that dangerous, feral part of himself that just wants to ram into you like some animal already. Because oh how he loved when you act like you weren’t bucking up mindlessly into the smooth staccato of his hips as he eases his way in. “Hngh- fuck you jus’ got- oh!”

The stretch - fuck the stretch. You never got used to it, no matter how many times he used that damn vibrator on you. Pushing you to your limits. It’s like he was nudging at your lungs already.

“F-fuuuck-” you can’t hold back your desperate moans, nails dragging reg marks down his biceps almost the size of your head. “Are you- ngh are you at least halfway in, Toji?”

“Nope.” he hums smugly, popping the p. “Though…”

And in a split second, he’s sitting up, with you splayed out so prettily on his fat length. Lips quirking into a mean little grin when two big arms of his help gravity pull you down, down, down onto his thick cock. Inch by fucking inch.

Turning his head to lick a long, languid stripe up his wrist. Groaning at the sweet sweet taste of your juices forming a sheen on his skin from the little “preparation” before. And fuck you think you feel him grow thicker - angry veins pulsing against every nook and cranny of your cunt.

Full. So full - and he wasn’t even all the way in yet.

“Oh- oh my god- fuck you’re so deep.” you mewl, body jolting with the inability to decide between wanting to run away or slam your hips down for more.

Toji notices - of course, he does - it was always like this, a few tears, a few whines, a few strokes with that pathetic “replica” of his swollen cock to stretch you out. He splays a hand out over your lower stomach, pressing down. Hard. Twitching wildly at that familiar bulge inside you, “M’so much deeper than that stupid toy.”

It’s all you can do to whimper, strained and utterly fucked out already. “Wh-what?”

“Heh, ya wanna know a secret, doll?” He’s leaning down to chuckle darkly in your ear - sending shivers down your neck, your arched spine, all the way to where he gives harsh thrust. Calculated. Once. Twice.

This time, not stopping until he was bottoming out.

Your puffy folds meeting his pelvis in a lewd kiss, his heavy balls smacking against your ass, thick cock settled deep - right where Toji’s been dying to be all night. Toji coos at the way your poor cunt was stuttering and bulging with the greedy effort to take him.

He plants a sloppy kiss right on your lips, “That vibrator’s made smaller than me.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Gentleman.

Now, Nanami Kento has always been told he looked like a gentleman - everything from his neatly styled hair, to his perfect suits, to the stern reading glasses always at his nose. Nanami Kento was a gentleman - both inside and out.

Well, except for that massive cock he hid away behind dapper dress pants, of course.

The one that always got so girthy and angry at the mere thought of not being stuffed inside your pretty pussy. The one that was currently beading hot precum at your pussy lips, forming a lewd little pool from where he was spooning you from behind.

The perfect remedy after a long, hard day at work - you, his cute lil’ wife.

“Bad day?” you whisper over your shoulder, Nanami’s nods coming out in feverish little puffs against your heated skin. “Then, I want you to put it in, Ken. All of it, don’ wanna waste time on preparation.”

And Nanami was never one to deny his wife - never one to doubt anything you wanted. But at this very moment, he’s loosening that speckled yellow tie he didn’t have the patience - nor the sanity to remove. Sliding the divot on his fat tip across your clit with a hushed, “Can’t, my love. I promised to not overwork you.”

You huff, “S’not overworking- just ngh- Ken-”

“Don’t.” he warns, hips rutting up lewdly at the mere sound of your voice. Sliding the mess of his glisteningly swollen cock right between your puffy folds. “Fuck- don’t. Jus’ had a bad day n’ this naughty pussy’s gonna make me lose control, darling. Have you calling out of work tomorrow.” He kisses down your neck left hand snaking down to give your cunt a gentle smack! The cool band of his wedding ring burning against your clit, “S’that really what you want?”

And it was meant to be a question to himself more than anything, really. A reminder that you weren’t even prepared yet - not stretched and teased to his heart’s content like usual. A reminder to fucking reel his sanity back before he breaks you.

But, alas, maybe you’re a genius - maybe you’re just stupid. Because you whine stubbornly, “Well, I hear it’s the best solution for a bad day, so why don’t you?”

In an instant, that’s all it takes for your leg to be stretched up in the air. The cozy bedroom chill hitting your bare cunt - only for a split-second, before Nanami’s achy tip is filling you up. Everywhere. Anywhere.

“Hold onto this.” his free hand presses his tie onto your shaky one, hip still pushing. Still rutting up in a steady pressure on your snug cunt. “Pull on it if m’going too rough- fuck- fuckin’ choke me I don’t care. Jus’ let me know because from now on…” he trails off dangerously.

But you’re not left to wonder what the end of his sentence will gift you. No, because you feel it.

He’s pushing in - nothing like the slow, languid strokes you were used to. No, barely even giving you the time to adjust while your husband just keeps pressing and pressing and-

“Ah! Ken!” you involuntarily tug on his tie when his sensitive slit massages at those syrupy sweet spots insides. “You’re so deep- fuck just fuck me how you want to.”

Nanami’s head feels light, vision getting spottier with each heaving breath he’s taking - maybe from your tightening grip around his tie, maybe from the way you’re squeezing him so fucking tight. But it takes him a few seconds to pull himself together enough to grit out, “Fuck- I want to. Oh, how I want to.” As if to confirm his statement, he’s thumbing apart your sopping slit, groaning at the sight of you drooling eagerly down his cock. “But you’re so fuckin’ tight I can’t ngh- s’this how you feel- fuck! I think m’gonna hafta take y’like this all the time, my love.”

Each word has him speeding up in jagged little pistons. Feeling so mean with the way he was bullying those cute moans out of you.

“I don’t care- ngh-” you babble, when his fingers roll over your clit. Squirming your hips down to meet his, trying to press up against those neat tufts of blond at his hilt. “-just want you all inside me.”

Shaping your cunt to this shape of him, losing his breath with each and every dense push inside your sloppy entrance. Still stuck not even halfway in yet - but you feel like you’re losing your goddamn mind.

“You’re so fuckin’ hah- hold on.” And then, your beloved Nanami pushes your leg up even further, craning his neck over to spit. A steady, sinful stream of saliva right onto the bulging mound of where he was sheeting himself in your pussy. Circling your clit, he hums in satisfaction at the mess he’s made, “Now I can ruin you exactly how I want.”

You open up so pliant for him, massaging every bump and ridge along his long, long length while you let him skim past. Being split open so well. So maddeningly.

Like you wanted to be ruined.

And just the thought of it is enough to push Nanami over the edge of his sanity - and to push the entirety of his raw, needy cock inside your tight pussy. Finally. Finally bottoming out.

“Ngh- shit-” he lets out a long breath, sharp canines puncturing at the sensitive skin on your neck. Hips stuttering and getting sloppy with each jittery push deeper inside. Even when Nanami feels your hips fucking back into his to meet the brick wall of his toned abs. His twitching balls sensitive against your ass. “Now, lemme tell ya how how it’s been a-” Just slamming his hips into yours, a ruthless depraved cadence. Fingers ruthless on your clit. “-long fuckin’ day without you.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Till m’stupid!

“P-please!” you try - and fail - to pull off his need mouth from your poor, overstimulated cunt. Fingers clasping desperately onto his long, inky hair. “I jus’ wan’ you in me- hah-”

It’s around your fourth orgasm that night when you’re finally crying out in surrender, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks with each high, legs spasming and trying to run away from Geto Suguru’s mean mouth. Your breath catching in your chest when he only hums around your ravaged clit in answer.

“I dunno, gorgeous.” Geto teases, sloppy tongue darting around your pulsing hole. Stretching. Lapping up each and every drop of your syrupy cunt. “Don’ think she’s ready to take me, yet.”

Fuck, you knew what that meant.

You knew that meant another few sweet rolls of Geto’s tongue against your clit, another few bullying praises spat into your sensitive cunt while he dragged you through another high - another orgasm that wasn’t on his swollen cock.

And despite how much you loved the way your boyfriend teased and toyed your needy cunt with his mouth - you needed more.

So you tug once again on his dark locks, tongue getting loose with delirium, “You’re so mean, Sugu. So what if I j-jus’ wan’ your cock.”

Oh how he loved to have you begging.

At this, his glassy eyes meet yours right from where Geto was still making out with your pretty pussy in a slow, languid kiss. The squelches and suckles ringing in your ears over your own words. His brow quirks, already with the nickname, huh? Interesting.

“Can’t cum a-as good if it’s not on your cock.” you plow on. Oh, now it’s flattery? How cute. You manage to sputter out while your words don’t even slow him down, “And! And if you don’t-” Ah, Geto muses, this one’s probably the threat. What will it be? Last time it was making him do all the dishes. The time before that it was buying you that handbag you really loved- “-m’gonna go on a sex ban!”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Now, if there’s one thing you know to never threaten Geto Suguru with, it’s a sex ban. But, alas, desperate times call for desperate measures.

So here he was - face wrenching away from the honeypot of your sweet cunt like it hurt to leave. Eyes wide as he scrambles to meet you, your slick glistening down his gaping lips, his burning cheeks - fuck, he’s never looked prettier.

“My baby…” Geto purrs into your ear, coming up to graze his lips against your in a messy crash of teeth and tongue. “Gorgeous, you never thought I’d be serious- right? Hah- sex ban my ass. You’re funny, real fucking funny.” But for all how confident he was, Geto was soothing out his words with the slightest tremor. Hastily sliding his furiously leaking tip between your sopping slit. Up and down up and down up and- “-cuz who said I could live another second without being in this cute pussy?”

As if to prove his point, Geto’s sliding his fat head past your puffy folds, stretching out your entrance so taut around his thick cock.

A big hand of his finds its way onto the small of your waist, and in a split-second Geto has your position flipped so that he’s splayed out on the mattress instead. Your limp body now toppling precariously where you were sat on his swollen cock.

“Oh.” his pretty mouth falls slack when his hazy eyes lock down at where the two of you were connected. Your pussy lips spread and sucking him up so well. He marvels, “Oh shit look at you. You always take it so well when you’re cockdrunk like this.”

And it’s true - Geto could barely feel that familiar little resistance of muscle. Instead, you’re letting his vein poke at your cunt welcomingly. Bullying himself inside.

You’re keening when an experimental thrust has Geto plunging in even deeper, throbbing veins massaging every nook and cranny of your gummy walls. You could feel him everywhere. And it’s like he could see the strain to take him. To milk him even greedier.

“S-Sugu-”

“Shhh, this is what y’wanted, right?” he’s breathing, strained - like he’s at the end of his sanity with each inch you’re bouncing down his length. “To be fucked on my cock? No matter how big?”

You don’t even have the ability to respond at this point - just the way he liked it. That smart mouth of yours too drunk to think of anything other than him. To only whine when he pools your salty tears on his tongue, murmuring into your skin, “Now now, ‘nough with the cryin’ hah- you wanted to be fucked stupid- n’that’s exactly what m’gonna do.”

Ah, he loved this part.

Loved how all those previous orgasms were crashing together to render you barely lucid when he’s shoving his entire cock up into your slutty hole. Glossy lips trembling when he hits the back of your cunt- already? Shit, that last orgasm must’ve hit you harder than he thought.

That slightly upwards curve of his dick was driving you wild now buried to his hilt. And only shoving himself deeper with each grind that Geto was bucking up to. Until his heavy balls rested behind your ass, neat black happy trail rubbing up against your skin. Until it was impossible to go any deeper.

Your drunken eyes are snapping up in surprise when feeling him grow even thicker inside you, the rough girth shaping out your sloppy hole. He rasps out a chuckle, “Wonder how loose you’ll be after a fifth one, hm?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Make him break!

Now, Choso knew your dirty lil’ tricks, he knew not to trust that sultry curl of your lips when you called out to him. That dangerous little glint in your eyes when you begged him to go deeper, one he almost misses with the way your heavenly cunt was trying to suck him up greedily. Almost.

Always playing with his sanity.

Always asking for more.

“But, baby.” he whines, pressing a concerned little peck to that adorable pout on your lips. Breath catching in his chest when you tug stubbornly on his bottom lip. “I don’t wanna- hah- don’ wanna hurt you, y’know?”

In response, you’re only wrapping your legs around his toned waist tighter, sure to leave sinful little marks at those dimples at the bottom of his spine. “I know what I want- n’ what I want is-” your elastic walls squeeze around his girth. Hard. “-more.”

Choso can’t help but let out a slow, hoarse drag of your name. Dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead when he throws his head back, hips grinding down, down, down-

“Hah! You- oh-” his hazy eyes are flying open when he realizes he’s playing right into your evil hands. Biting his sharp canines down on your pulse - a little warning. “You know what happens when I go all the way, baby. M’not gonna fit- m’gonna lose control. M’gonna-”

“Please?” you hum sweetly.

He was about halfway in now - mouth watering at the way your pussy was spread open so shamefully for him. Already bulging and leaking onto the drenched silky sheets below with the struggle to take him - and you wanted more?

“Tha’s right.” you hum, and it takes his saturated mind a second to realize he said that out loud. And even longer to blink up and meet your hungry gaze, “I want more, Cho.”

Fuck, and it was so unfair. Maybe it’s the nickname, maybe it’s the way you buck your hips up sloppily, lewd squelches ringing in his ear when you bully his swollen cock just an inch more.

Maybe it’s just you. .

But that’s all it takes for him to gasp, eyes snapping wider - crazed even - hips stuttering so messily forwards before-

“Fuck, you’re such a little slut, baby.” And before you know it, Choso’s ramming his hips forwards. Letting the loud smack of skin-on-skin sound across the heady air, bruising. Painful, even. “Such a greedy little bitch-” Watching his throbbing length disappear, he’s sure it’ll leave marks - his heavy balls on your ass, toned pelvis against your thighs, fat cockhead hitting at your cervix. “-N’ s’what you’re gonna be treated like.”

It only takes one kiss of Choso’s leaky tip right against the bottom of your snug pussy before he’s cumming and cumming so hard you can almost feel him twitch at your lungs.

Not waiting for you to adjust, not even waiting for his high to bate. no, don’t make him laugh. Just spearing you on his long length, barely even easing your poor, quivering cunt into it before he’s fucking you into the mattress.

Fully bottomed out now - exactly as you knew would happen.

“No- no no no hold on.” Choso holds both your thrashing legs still with one of his, pushing past that feeble resistance while he finds his rhythm at your gaping hole. “This is- hah-” he groans, voice shot over your wrecked ah! ah! ah! Plunging inside you like he was molding your pliant walls to his shape. “Told you m’gonna break ngh-”

He was massive already - barely even managing to squeeze past and massage your dripping cunt. But oh the sweet overfill of his seed had you keening, scrambling to grab onto the sheets, the headboard, his shoulders to keep even an ounce of your sanity.

“Ngh- fuck!” you whine at the feeling of rope after rope of his thick cum sloshing around inside your plush walls. His veins throb! throb! throbbing! against your sensitive spots to make such a mess of you below. “Fuck- jus’ like that, Cho- keep- hah- keep goin’”

And you didn’t even have to ask. As expected, your boyfriend’s brows after knitting together, pushing your legs so far apart it burned. Abs flexing as his hips moved in jagged, desperate pistons to massage your gummy walls.

This was what you wanted so badly - the way he always breaks like this.

Always.

“Y’asked for more n’ you’re gonna get it.” his voice stutters, cracking ever so slightly with each smash into that spongy bundle of nerves. “More- hah!” Letting out a humorless, almost-shrill laugh, “You knew this would happen, huh?”

You’re just batting your lashes deceivingly innocently, pressing a honeyed peck to Choso’s snarl, “I highly hah- doubt-”

“Look at you.” he spits at your bumbling retort, “Can’t even speak.” Two thick fingers coming up to circle the thick globs of seed pooled at your ravaged clit, purposefully grazing against the sensitive nub. “Fuckin’ wanted more and you’re gonna- get it.”

Slamming into you fast. Out of control.

You open your mouth - no doubt to spit out some other taunt - but before the words leave your lips, he’s shoving his now-sloppy mess of his index and middle finger inside. Forcing the salty taste of his cum spilling out with each thrust, and the cool metal of his thick metal rings. You wanted to break him - and that’s what you’re gonna get.

“So you hah- better shut up that pretty mouth of yours unless I break the bed again and you along with it”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Twin bitches, twin bitches

“Enough admirin’ me.” Sukuna chuckles darkly from above you, reaching down to cradle your dazed head with a large, clawed hand of his. “The faster ya get back to doing yer lil’ job, the sooner that pretty cunt can take me.”

And it’s all you can do to heave for air, looking up defiantly at the two massive cocks kissing at your mouth. Barely getting a few breaths in before Sukuna’s hips thrust forwards once again to spear your heavenly mouth one of his swollen lengths. Smirking at the way your glossy lips bulge around him, “Yeah yeah, what? Got somethin’ to say, brat?”

You’re squeezing your soft palm up and down the drenched hilt of his other cock. Managing to gasp out, “I- want you-” Before your mouth is being fucked again like some little fucktoy - by both of them. Over and over. Taunting, “I want- you- now.”

“Now?” And Sukuna sounds genuinely surprised, baring his sharp canines in a shocked grin. “Y’think you can hah- already take me now?” Hissing as he drags your sloppy mouth up and off his sensitive lengths, only to question. “You sure about that?”

This angle gives you the perfect view of his intimidating cocks - massive, painfully hard. Fat tips flushed the same shade of pretty pink, angry and weeping all over your swollen lips. Twin veins throbbing urgently at your hot breath, both swollen lengths twitch so animalistically when you spit. Once. Twice.

“Heh- you always do surprise me, lil’ human.”

And shit you were goading him into it - toying with him.

But you didn’t expect that in all of two seconds, Sukuna would be lifting you easily off the ground with two big arms, wrapping your boneless legs around his waist to fit you snugly like a puzzle piece against his muscled body.

“Wh-what-”

“Y’asked, my girl.” he whispers, ragged at what a needy lil’ slut you were being for him right now. His other two free arms aligning both leaky tips at your quivering cunt. “N’ since you’re so fuckin’ spoiled, guess I gotta always hah- give ya what you want, huh?”

“You mean- oh-” It’s right around this time that you can’t think - you can’t even breathe. Can’t do anything but surrender to the two massive lengths bullying past your stretchy ring of muscle. Molding the entrance of your cunt to the shape of his cocks.

“Mmm fuck m’never gonna get tired of this stretch.” he’s groaning throatily, humming with each little half-thrust inside you. Just barely a push and pull. “So wet n- how the fuck hah- are you this tight?”

You scoff, mouth sharp even when it feels like he’s splitting you in half, “I can think of ngh- t-two reasons.”

And then Sukuna has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh - laugh - loud and baritone, the force of his chest rumbling having you slipping deeper and deeper down his massive cock. Losing your barely-there footing with each inch he’s feeding into your needy cunt.

You sputter, “Ngh- f-fuck you’re in so deep.”

“F-f-fuck you’re in so deep.” Sukuna mimics your moans in a pitch much higher than his own. Giving the fat of your ass a sharp smack! as he massages your way down. “M’not even hah- halfway in yet so ya better buckle up, brat.”

And it was true - he was still pushing in desperate, purposeful ruts upwards of his hips. Short strokes that you’d never have the king of curses do - unless he was feeling particularly nice.

Your legs dangle in midair, nails digging into his tan skin with each smack of his heavy set balls with each movement, leaving a smear of precum and spit. Sliding you down so much easier than he thought it would. Down, down, down…

“Ya feel me in here?” you’re gasping at the pressure of one of his sharp nails. Dangerous. Trailing down, down, down to draw an imaginary line on your stomach. One. And another one not too long aways, “And here?” At your cockdrunk little nod, he smiles - dark and wild. “Use your words if you ah- want what’s comin’.”

He feels you milk his cocks even harder at that, like you’re trying to drag out something delicious when you squeal, “Can feel you- can’t feel anything but you-”

The tip of his thick finger dances higher and higher. And he gruffs out, “Well, soon enough m’gonna be- hah here!”

That deep promise is all that runs through your oversaturated mind before Sukuna’s ramming into you - no mercy. Just shoving you down his throbbing cock until he could see them bulge outwards from your supple skin, leaving a lewd little mark right where he predicted it would be.

Bullseye.

“Oh fuuuuck, so nice n’ tight f’me.” Sukuna whimpers - he whimpers. Fuck, the feeling of your walls trying desperately to take shape to his cocks so addictive. So dizzying the way he can feel himself rubbing against one another, bulbous veins throbbing in time to an erratic staccato. “So nice and- and-” he’s losing his words now, slurring with each languid half-thrust up into your cervix. “-mine.”

The word seemed to have made something so feral and dark poke its head out of Sukuna’s exterior. Because then he’s dragging you sloppy cunt like he owned her, all the way from his weeping tips down until your clit was scratching against those tufts of pink at his hilt.

Slamming into you promisingly until you see stars, until you’re cumming. Electricity running through your veins just at the feeling of being so full.

Fucking you through your high, Sukuna only taunts, “Now this is where the real fun starts.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - NO CONTROL

“Why the- why the fuck-” your gasp is drowned out by the sharp rip! of fabric echoing across your boyfriend’s luxurious childhood bedroom. Pieces of your poor panties currently laying in tatters on its hardwood floor, “-do they make these things so easy access?”

As if they could be anything but easy access.

Not with the way Gojo had you bent over the nearest desk he could find, your wrists pinned, skirt bunched up, cunt slobbering and already struggling around where he was just dipping his fat head inside.

Yet, you still manage to hiss over your shoulder, “If- if it’s so ‘easy access’ then why the fuck did you hah- rip it, you fool?”

But ah you should’ve known better than to give Gojo Satoru one of your glares. Because that along with your honeyed insults have him twitching ferally inside you, the curve of his cock jolting perfectly against your hidden sweet spot. Of course.

“Because.” he gives you a sly chuckle, the very tip of his aching cock dragging along your gummy walls. “You should know this by now.” Nipping at the shell of your ear, “M’so big that even those panties are a problem, sweetheart.”

And oh the smug bastard, he’s pushing into your heavenly cunt in languid grinds. Savoring. Hypnotic.

You’re gasping when one of his calculated thrusts mashes against your sensitive areas, the slow push and pull having your nails almost digging into the wooden desk. Scrambling onto your very tip-toes to glide your gummy walls against his thick length.

“Toru…” you moan, hissing in warning. “Y-you better be quiet or else your hah- your parents are gonna hear us.”

“Hah! Me? Me?” he cackles, drinking in your bleary gaze, the way your mouth was falling slack with each tempo of his hips. “Think you should be more ngh- worried about yourself, sweetheart.” He’s pressing a hot mess of a kiss one your swollen lips, your shoulders. Down, down, down wherever he could reach down your arched spine, “Besides. We’ll be s-sneaky, m’jus’ puttin’ in the-”

And perhaps for the first time in his life, the great Gojo Satoru is utterly speechless. Words catching in his chest at the sinful sight right below him.

Your legs spread, shaking. Inner thighs smeared with the glossy sheen of the mess he’s making of your poor cunt. And you pussy- oh fuck, your pussy. With your puffy folds spread, bulging even with the effort to take it just past his fat head. Quivering and struggling with each experimental grind.

Fuck, it was hard to look at it, too. It made him throb so painfully - it made him grow bigger.

“Ngh! What the fuck-” you spit at the feeling of that familiar burn, your syrupy walls being stretched to their absolute limits.

“Shhh shhh- change of plans, sweetheart.” Is all Gojo grunts in response, bending his long, long legs at the knees to bully himself inside easier. Two big arms wrapping around your middle, reaching over to give your clit a determined swivel of his fingers. “M’gonna go about- halfway? Yeah, halfway.”

And yet, he sounds unsure himself. Voice just a pitch higher, breathy, like he was losing more and more of his sanity with each little half-thrust he’s gifting your poor cunt with.

Just quick, methodical little kisses of his hips to yours, heavy balls smacking against your thighs with each inch your greedy cunt is swallowing up. Milking the absolute fucking soul out of him.

“F-fuck!” you keen when that thick vein of his down the middle massages your good spot. The adorable sound making Gojo’s eyes light up, smirking as he hikes his knee up higher to piston deep into your dripping pussy. Heady with the squelches from below. “Th-this is hah more than- half Toru-”

Fuck, was it?

Gojo hadn’t even noticed - too drunk on the way you were squeezing his poor, overworked cock so tight. Until it was almost difficult to plunge into your dripping cunt - to split you apart on it exactly the way he wanted.

But, well, now that he was taking a long, hard look - he was just a bit more than halfway through. Brows raising in delight at the way your hips are pushing back in mindless little swivels for more.

“Then, I guess-” he trails off, two large hands of his coming to rest at your waist. A disappointed whine rips from the back of your throat when his ruthless hips slow down to a still, pulsing with anticipation. “-might as well finish the job.”

“Oh- what- you fuckin’-” The rest of your sentence is swallowed up in the way he rolls his hips forwards - fully. Inch by fucking inch. Catching in your ring of resistance less than all the way through, but still pushing. Still rutting forwards so animalistically. “Toru—” You whine at the stretch, the pure dizzying feeling of him shaping your cunt to the thick girth of his swollen cock. “S’too big- I can’t ngh-”

Pretty pink lips shut up your babbling mouth, murmuring deeply, “No no no no- no you can take it- you can oh.” Long, slender fingers coming up to roll against your poor clit, loosening your feeble reisstance, “Look at the- fuck jus’ look at the way you want me.” And you’re barely registering the hand smushing your cheeks together in an embarrassing pout, forcing you to look down at the steady, lazy torture of him splitting you apart on his massive cock. “This isn’t even fuck- me. Look at how you’re fucking back. How you want me so badly.”

And, usually, you’d snap at Gojo - tell him he’s too cocky for his own good.

But it was true.

You were meeting his sloppy, untimed bounced halfway through. Helping yourself be fucked into that expensive desk. And he’s pushing - so persistent.

So utterly wrecked when his leaky tip nudges against your spongy cervix, stars behind his eyes when his heavy balls smack your thighs. Unstopping - not until your ass was settled snugly against those tufts of white at his base. Finally, all the way in.

Through it all, he manages to rasp out, “Hey, did ya know the walls in his house are soundproofed?”

“...”

“So why don’t we go a proper round, sweetheart? Or five?”

A/N. I did NOT expect these to get so long but yk what I’m not upset.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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hinatsu · 3 months ago

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katsuki would be so damn clingy as your bf </33

he’d follow you everywhere, all throughout the house. in the morning, the second you get out of bed, hes right behind you. if you head to the bathroom, hes there too, phone in hand, leaning against the doorway while you brush your teeth or go through your skincare routine.

when you wander into the kitchen to start breakfast, hes trailing after you, barely awake but watching your every move like its the most interesting thing in the world. his hand finding its way to your waist as the other rubs the crust from his eyes, resting his chin on your shoulder. he kisses your temple and hugs you from behind while you wash up the dishes from last nights dinner, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go.

its quiet the entire time, no words, just him soaking up your presence like he cant get enough of you.

and when you finally sit down to eat, hes stealing bits of food off yr plate even tho he swore up and down he wasnt hungry, and if you try to swat him away, he’ll just smirk and tease you, his fingers quick enough to snatch another bite before you can stop him. he doesnt even care what it is; you made it, so its automatically good.

later, when you’re trying to get things done, hes still there, hovering nearby. sitting on the couch with one arm thrown over the backrest, watching you move around the room. occasionally he’ll call you over just to pull you into his lap, lips brushing against your neck as he grumbles, “ ‘been movin’ around too much,, sit still for a minute.”

it doesnt matter what ur doing— laundry, cleaning, even just scrolling through your phone on the other side of the room, he needs you close, always. and at night, when you’re finally back in bed, hes pulling you into him, one leg thrown over yours, holding onto you so tight its like hes afraid youll disappear… i need him so bad

#clingy katsu..#i love him #fluff omg?!? shocked emoji #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugo fluff

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levenlike11 · 7 months ago

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his hands come up to your cheeks and hold, looking- rather staring into your soul. you smile and your cheeks in his hands squish up making them look chubbier.

"wanna bite you." he says it still holding instense eye contact. you laugh and a faint smile appears on his face. "i missed you." his head drops on your shoulder and he takes a deep breath of your perfume.

"missed you too." you put your head on his, as if it hasn't only been less than a full day since you last saw each other. he thanks the owners of the place for the dim blue lighting in the dark room as it conceals the blush starting to make itself known on his face.

his hands that are hugging your figure travels down and down until they hit your waist and sneak under your top to caress your soft skin. every inch his fingertips touch burn with excitement and leaves goosebumps on his way.

"missed you so. damn. much." he sighs into your shoulder and places a small kiss on there, slowly moving upwards on your neck. you open yourself to him and throw your head back, enjoying his acts. his hands are softly scratching your back while he keeps kissing and nipping at your skin.

"show me how much you missed me then." you whisper near his ear and peck his lobe, knowing it makes his knees weak every time you do that. his attention is now diverted to your chin, biting it tenderly. "baby-" you whine when he licks the part he bit to soothe the pain he caused.

"my pretty thing. all mine." staring into your eyes again, he touches your nose playfully with his pointer finger. you close your eyes and lean into him, letting your lips touch gently at first. it doesn't take long until he's exploring your mouth feverishly, teeth clattering and tongues brushing against each other with lust.

you push him off of you for a second to take a breath but he chases after your lips and doesn't let you leave. you can taste the drink he previously had on his tongue and it mixes with the minty taste your altoids left in your mouth. he thinks he's found heaven, right here in your arms.

when he eventually pulls back, you can't help but giggle at all the lipstick stains on the lower half of his face. (and trust my word on this one, he wears it proudly until you force him to wash it off- which leads to another make out session, in the bathroom this time.)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

eren, jean, levi (aot) geto, megumi, toji, nanami (jjk) SUNARIN, hinata, iwaizumi, akaashi (hq) reo, chigiri, rin, sae (blue lock) draken, wakasa, mitsuya (tokyorev) giyuu, sanemi (demon slayer) and anyone else you'd like!

all feedback is extremely appreciated, sorry for the inactivity!🥹🫶🏻

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rafesangelita · 24 days ago

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♡ after a nasty break up, you and rafe find yourselves at the same valentine’s day party, both of you on a mission to distract yourselves for the night. what started as a petty competition to piss each other off, soon turned into a competition to see who would tap out first..

warnings: toxic!rafe, mentions of stalking, jealousy, oral (m. receiving), fingering, face fucking, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, degradation, dirty talk, orgasm denial, hair pulling, slapping, choking, biting, asphyxiation, very little blood, multiple orgasms

a/n: now presenting… ‘EXES AND O’S’ 🤍 this was originally a fluffy prompt with frat!rafe.. idk how we ended up here but i hope you love it nonetheless <3

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 2.5k

“what about him? he’s cute.” you followed chanel’s line of vision, your eyes landing on a guy with curly brown hair, a soft smile, and freckles that dusted across his cheeks. “he’s too cute.” you looked away, sighing to yourself as chanel snickered at your side. “oh, i’m sorry, i forgot you only like guys who look like they’re damn near unapproachable.” just then, you spotted rafe in the corner with another girl, that stupid flirtatious look adorning his face as he spared you a single glance. he knew you were looking at him, his hand trailing down the stranger’s back until he grabbed a handful of her ass through her dress.

truth be told, rafe didn’t really care about the girl in front of him. he was at this party for one reason, and one reason only; pussy. after you two ended things in a fit of rage, rafe couldn’t stop thinking about you, even going as far as stalking all of your socials and camping outside your house just to catch a glimpse of you since you enforced a strict ‘no contact’ rule. at the end of the day, he had needs, and his preferred need didn’t want shit to do with him, so now he was here; telling this girl whatever she wanted to hear in hopes he could ‘hit it and quit it’ as soon as possible.

he hated how sexy you looked sitting there. hair freshly done, your face was in what you called ‘full glam’, but your outfit? he was on the verge of dragging you out of the house and taking you home with him just for wearing it. a black see through dress, that he indeed could see through, black strappy heels that hugged your calves perfectly, and his personal favorite; a black lace choker with a ribbon in the front. to put it simply, you looked like sex on legs. “are you even listening to me?” rafe snapped out of his trance, a shit-eating grin playing on your lips while he cleared his throat awkwardly.

he was so pathetic, he had a free opportunity to get his dick wet standing right in front of him and he still couldn’t help but get distracted at the sight of you. if he wanted to make you mad, he needed to have actual competition, and just like both of you knew; there was no such thing. if rafe was going that low, you were going to go even lower. getting up from your spot on the couch, rafe’s eyes followed your every move as you made your way to the crowded living room. the lights grew dim, one of his favorite songs playing over the speakers as you started dancing.

you weren’t even by yourself for a full minute before you felt a pair of large hands snake around your waist, the person’s frontside digging into the soft flesh of your ass as your hips moved against the mystery man. rafe felt his eye twitch, his jaw clenching as you looked up just in time to hold your new dancing partner close by the back of their neck. “you fucking bitch..” he whispered to himself. as if you could read his lips, you turned around, looking up at the hottest guy in the room. besides your ex-boyfriend, of course. he had dark hair, a chiseled jawline, and was exactly the type to make rafe pissed.

pulling him down to your head level, you leaned in and kissed him, your eyes staying on rafe’s the entire time. at first, rafe was just gonna let you have your moment and let you think you got the last laugh.. but then he saw the guy’s hand slip underneath your dress and your tongue slip out of your mouth. “fuck it.” rafe nudged the girl off of his arm and stormed upstairs, your chest blooming with pride as you watched him disappear. once he was out of your sight, you pulled away from the stranger with a roll of your eyes, leaving the poor guy confused in the middle of the living room.

now that rafe was gone, you were bored once again, your phone going off inside your purse.

[10:10 PM] chanel <3: come upstairs!! hottie alert..

your eyebrows knitted in confusion at the message. ‘hottie alert’, chanel did not talk like that. adjusting the hem of your dress, you made your way upstairs where a line for the bathroom wrapped around the hallway. you could feel everyone’s gazes burning into your skin, your eyes scanning for your bestie in the crowded area. walking past some of the bedrooms, you paused once you reached the last door on the right.

“give me my phone you fucking psychopath!” the voice belonged to none other than chanel, your nails clicking against the metal knob before you swung the door open. “what the fuck are you doing?!” you shoved rafe in the chest before ripping chanel’s phone out of his hand. “i wouldn’t have to text you from your friend’s phone if you didn’t have me blocked on everything.” he spat, a teasing smile gracing his lips as you whispered something in chanel’s ear. “..are you sure?” you had just told her to give you a moment alone with him, your bestie feeling a little uneasy at the idea.

“trust me, i’ll be fine,” you scoffed, “look at him.” both of you turned around just in time to see rafe stand up with a wince.

you may or may not have pushed him straight into the chiseled edge of the hardwood dresser that sat in the corner of the room..

chanel accepted her phone as you handed it to her, making sure to shoot rafe one more glare before shutting the door behind her. rafe watched you click the lock, his figure towering over your own as he caged you between the wall. “posing as my friend to get me upstairs.. really, rafe? you look desperate as fuck.” you laughed, the degrading sound turning him on. he laughed along before wrapping a hand around your neck, the smile dropping from his face the second he leaned into you. “so what does that make you? ‘over here shoving your tongue down some random dude’s throat.”

you scoffed before rafe pressed into your windpipe, your eyes fluttering shut at the force. “you started it.” your voice barely came out above a whisper, a shiver running down your spine when you felt his breath fan against your cheek. “yeah? well, then i guess that means i should finish it too then, huh?” before you had a chance to get out some catty remark, he gripped the sides of your neck, dragging you over to the bed before pinning you down by your wrists. he took this time to examine your outfit closely, his nostrils flaring as your nipples were visible through the fabric.

“looks like you came here for the same reason i did,” he laughed, “what? you don’t got any panties on either?” you struggled against him, thrashing in his hold while your heel clad feet dangled off of the plush mattress. “why do you care? you’re not getting anything.” rafe smirked, his eyebrows lifting as if you just proposed a challenge. taking one of his hands off of your wrists, you wasted no time in landing a slap across his cheek, the action only making him grow hard in his boxers. “the fuck was that supposed to do?” he laughed, “that’s just foreplay for me, baby.”

you groaned, rolling your eyes before you felt rafe’s hand slip underneath the waistband of your panties. all objections died in your throat when his fingers worked skillfully around your clit, your body jolting at the familiar stroke of his digits. you hated that you let him get to know you like the back of his hand. the man knew what it took to get you purring, your hips chasing his touch for more friction. “look at you, you’re so fucking easy.” you shoved his chest in a poor attempt to get him to back off, the action deemed useless as he took your hand and pressed kisses to your knuckles instead.

“i hate you.” you moaned. without warning, rafe slipped both his middle and ring finger inside your soaked entrance, your arousal contradicting your words. “hate me? it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it..” you cried out when he curled his digits, the tips of his fingers pressing against your sweet spot. it didn’t take long before you were trembling, your thighs threatening to snap shut around his wrist. one look up at rafe and you could see just how much he was enjoying this, the erection in his pants catching your attention. you decided right then and there you weren’t going to be the only one coming undone.

palming him through his jeans, rafe’s mouth opened as he let your other hand free, your dark gaze meeting his own before you were working him out of his pants. he gave you a little bit of leeway, allowing you to sit up just enough to be eye level with his throbbing cock before he ran his tip across your lips. “you know what to do with it, baby.” poking your tongue out, rafe groaned as you held him at the base, taking the first half of him between your lips. “see? this is what your mouth is for.. ‘it’s not for all that fucking attitude you give me.” he stroked the side of your cheek before cradling your head with both hands.

just as you rested your hands on his thighs, rafe tugged on the roots of your hair before forcing himself to hit the back of your throat. you whined, your nails digging into the denim of his jeans. asshole, you thought. rafe could see the combative look in your eyes, a knowing smirk gracing his lips before you swallowed around his length, drawing a hiss from the man above you. he continued dragging your mouth up and down his length until he was panting, his eyes rolling back the same way they did before he was going to shoot his load. pinching his side, rafe groaned as you pulled away with a gasp, slipping out from under him.

his cock was standing straight up against his stomach, your saliva running down the underside of it while his chest rose and fell with each breath. “you were just waiting to do that shit to me, weren’t you?” he stood up, kicking what was left of his jeans off of his ankles before wrapping a fist in your hair and slamming you against the wall. you yelped, a teasing grin taking over your features as he hiked your dress up, lifting you off of the floor with ease. rafe held you, his large palms squeezing the globes of your ass before slapping the flesh there harshly.

rafe leaned in to kiss you, his ego taking another hit when you moved your head to the side. “i’m about to fuck you stupid and you can’t even let me taste you?” he tsked, “is that really how you wanna be on valentine’s day?” you scoffed at his words, your eyebrows knitting together as he pulled your panties to the side. “you don’t even care about valentine’s day. you said it was corny, remember?” he ran his leaking tip between your folds, a whimper leaving your lips when you felt him nudge your sensitive bud. “yeah, i said a lot of shit, i know that, alright?” rafe grabbed your chin, forcing your head to stay in place, “but i want that to change.. ‘want things to be different between us.”

it was hard to deny him when he was sliding into you, your arms wrapping around his neck as he moaned in your ear. “you say that every single time..” you grumbled, your walls fluttering around the girth of him. rafe bit down on the sensitive part of your neck, a small gasp emitting from your mouth before he started rocking into you. “i mean it, though,” he grunted, “i want you back at home, at tanneyhill.” slowly but surely, rafe kissed up your jaw until you hesitantly gave in and let him take your lips with his. it was searing— the way your mouths melted into one was nothing short of addicting.

rafe’s hips slammed into your own with a precision that turned you into a puddle of nothing, your nails running along the back of his head as his chest pressed into yours. “you want me back home?” you bit his bottom lip, tugging on it until he cursed out loud. you ended up pulling a little too hard, a small bead of blood pooling in the indent you managed to make with your teeth. rafe was turned on out of his mind, his hips moving faster as he began thumbing at your clit. “fuck— yes, i need you back home. m’gettin tired of this stalking bullshit.” you giggled at the revelation, pulling him in for another kiss.

both of you moaned at the metallic taste on your tongues, your hand snaking down to fist his t-shirt. “prove it then.” that was all rafe needed to hear before he went all in, his thrusts growing rapid and hard— your head knocking against the wall behind you. your moans were so graphic, rafe couldn’t believe he lasted this long without hearing them. pretty soon, you were gasping for air, the band in your tummy snapping as rafe watched the way you lost yourself in his arms. you were so fucking pretty like this. swollen lips, heated skin, sparkly eyes and your now fucked up hair. you looked absolutely perfect.

having been denied an orgasm the first time, he had no idea how he hadn’t filled you with his seed yet, his climax just in arm’s reach. “please let me cum,” rafe pleaded, his abs constricting as the familiar heat began to simmer in the pit of his stomach, “i haven’t finished in fucking months.” you did a double take, your eyes widening slightly. “are you tapping out, ‘cameron?” the man in front of you rolled his eyes before burying his face in the curve of your neck. “are you really gonna make me say it?” your cunt was sucking him in like a vice, his eyes screwing shut as he started falling over the edge.

“of course i am. tell me i win before i unwrap my legs around your waist.” rafe gave in immediately, a pathetic ‘you win, you win, baby!’ was grunted into your flesh as you felt the hot ropes of his cum paint your insides. he stilled, his cock twitching until you took him for all that he had. rafe’s fingers dug into your skin, leaving crescents engraved in their wake. “shit.” he sighed, peppering your exposed chest with kisses. very gently, rafe carried you over to the bed where he adjusted your dress. “as much as i love the way this looks on you, you’re keeping this dress inside the house and that’s it.”

grabbing your phone, you opened your text thread with your best friend. rafe could hear the rapid clicking of your nails on your screen, his eyebrows knitting together as he pulled his jeans back on. “what are you doing?” he asked, craning his neck to steal a glance over your shoulder. “i’m just letting chanel know we didn’t kill each other.”

fair point.

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