#a villains twisted heart hook

[elfqueen006]

Darling

Captain Hook x Reader

Tw: canon-typical violence, canon compliant, mention of drawn blood, angst, jealousy

---

Currently, Hook's renewed Jolly Roger was being faced off by the Unraveler yet again, who came with his own new and improved ship, that he likely acquired in a manner of minutes rather than with the hours of care Hook's crew had put into his own vessel.

Ever the valiant one, Hook wasted no time throwing himself back into a captain's role and commanded a spyglass from a member of his faithful crew.

"Let's see what tricks the lubber has now-"

The captain stiffened upon looking through his spyglass and his throat bobbed a great lump.

Your brows drew together in concern, immediately picking up on his faltered state. "Hook? Is something wrong?"

"No. No, it's nothing." He replied flippantly, "Nothing to be unnerved about."

Hisame's pale hand swiped the device from him, sneering. "Fool. If you're rattled it's obviously something we need to know." He looked through the spyglass for a moment, but his face became perplexed. "They have a girl."

"Like, a hostage?" you asked.

"Doesn't seem to be. She's consorting with the Unraveler in the open."

"Let me see." Hisame handed the spyglass off to you and you began scanning the ship. The first thing you noticed of course, was the Unraveler with his stark white features against the crew of black clothes. It made sense with what you knew of him, he'd want to stand out amongst the world he deemed himself a god over. 

He seemed to notice you too, smirking before he called to someone yet unseen. When they came up you mentally flinched. It was a girl. And something about her appearance was so distinct from even the Unraveler that it prompted you to get a closer look. Adjusting the spyglass you focused more on her face and dress.

She couldn't have been much older than you, a young woman probably entering college or just leaving it. A fair complexion with a few stray freckles on her face. Pink and full lips, very womanly. Dark hair falling to her shoulders in ringlets. She wore a bright blue dress but no shoes.

"Wendy Darling..." you said, lowering the spyglass. Flowing through your mind were countless memories of the heroine portrayed in the pages of your old books and in the faces of the movies adapting them. And then the more recent ones of the faceless and yet presumably cold woman who had broken Hook's heart. You knew she existed and yet you never thought you'd be able to meet her. Especially like this.

You looked over to Hook, who was paler than usual. His face flushed as he used his hat to fan himself.

"...Captain?" Your call made him look up with wide eyes. You hated to see him so... vulnerable. Well, against his will. A million thoughts must have been running through his head right now. A million memories. But now was the time to act, and act fast. "What should we do?"

He shifted his gaze elsewhere, "We...we persist. But be ready for anything. This is still the Unraveler we're dealing with; a familiar face may very well be another opponent."

He’s obviously still very shaken up. But what else can you do but follow him? If there’s anything Hook excels at, it’s leadership under pressure. He’d walk this blind if he had to. At least, you hope so. 

It isn’t long before the Unraveler deploys his men to overtake your ship. They come in swinging, clashing their swords with Hook’s men. Many try to overpower Hook himself, but he’d knocked the swords from their hands with his skilled parries and thrusts. One man had come up and grabbed hold of Hook’s sword arm, cocking his own arm back to deliver a punch before Grimm had come in from the other side to knock him down with a swipe of his heavy claws. Hook grinned and slapped his back, to which the wolfman gave a scoff but assumed a smirk full of pride when he went off to ward off more attackers.

You felt yourself smile. It was nice to see Hook be himself again, especially after such a rattling development. But that didn’t mean your foes would be deterred. Few men came after you, approaching more methodically than they did your comrades. It was likely the Unraveler still had use for you and ordered that they take care not to damage a possible asset. You weren't as skilled as Hook with your sword, but you made use of your size by dodging and slipping under the bigger men and redistributing your weight along with the direction of your sword to fend them off with swift and heavy strikes. And they just kept coming! As if you were a capoeira champion, you made sure to keep light on your feet, no matter how weary you felt yourself getting.

Hook glances over at you in the middle of his own fight. He feels his heart race in an unpleasant way at seeing you grow sluggish. He cursed himself for not teaching you more in melee combat. It also didn’t seem like you were doing a very good job at handling them permanently. Almost like it was a second instinct not to hurt or maim but to defend. No matter how dire the situation, he supposed he couldn’t fault you for being an inherently caring person. It isn’t just something you could unlearn… at least not so fast.

As the man in front of him lifts his arms up with his sword, foolishly giving Hook an opening, the pirate ran his own sword through his stomach. He kicked the wounded man down and ran over to you. He was halfway there when suddenly–

Clang!

Whether it be luck or pure instinct, Hook had blocked the Unraveler’s sword in time. “Going somewhere, old friend?”

His cerulean eyes widened before going cold with a sneer. “We’re friends now, are we?” Hook twisted his sword and shoved him backward. The Unraveler slid back but stood his ground before going in once more to parry him.

“Of, course! There’s an unspoken bond between a hero and his villain. Maybe even more than their damsels, wouldn’t you say?” the Unraveler said.

Hook only growled in response as he delivered a particularly harsh blow against his sword. 

The Unraveler snickered, “Struck a nerve, did I? What’s the matter? I thought you’d be happy to see Wendy again-”

“Wendy is dead to me!” This time, he actually managed to cut the white-haired man, who made a surprised yelp when his cheek was grazed by his opponents’ sword. His hold loosened on his swords’ grip and Hook quickly knocked it from his hands, catching his collar by his hook and raising his sword to run him through.

Clang! His arm jerks back at a sudden force and his gaze is drawn to the swift passing of a blue gown. He takes notice his own sword has been flung across the ship deck. The scraping of metal on wood draws everyone’s attention to the fight in the middle of the deck; it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

You look agape at the shocking scene before you: James Hook has the end of a sword to his throat. Your gaze travels down the blade and the woman behind the guard. Wendy holds her weapon assuredly as she assumes an almost pouty expression. Her dark blue eyes stun him in place as his throat bobs with the contact of her blade. That familiar flushed look is on his face. The Unraveler is down, clutching his sore wrist as he smirks up at them.

“Thank you for making this easy for me.” She remarks coldly. But there’s a hint of something else in her tone you can’t place. Either way, the image before you is sobering and your eyes dart to the closest man in front of you. Your blade is still placed over his, and a small pull and thrust to his neck has him gushing and gasping, grasping at his neck while you turn away, taking a running start at Wendy.

You hear Grimm and Hisame call out to you but your blood rushes to your ears as you harshly bump your shoulder against Wendy’s and away from Hook.

“Y/N!” He took a step forward after you but once again was cut off by a punch from the Unraveler.

“We’re not done!” The Unraveler hissed.

As the two fought, both you and Wendy had managed to get yourselves up to the deck stairs. Wendy regains her footing quickly and shoves you back down. You clumsily stumble down but place one foot atop a stair and one back on deck.

Wendy stands above you at the very top. The sun halos her hair, the light giving it a distinct shine. She frowns, sticking her chin out while looking down at you. She is authoritative in a very British noblewoman sort of way, even with the trace of dirt and wetness at the ends of her dress. Still, she’s more than antagonistic, especially with the way she apprehended Hook earlier. You wouldn’t put it past her to be poised to kill.

So you would have to… 

You would have to kill Wendy…

“You’re wearing one of my gowns.” She suddenly announces. Somehow, her voice is louder than the chaos occurring behind you both, which sounds almost muted when you focus on her and her alone.

You look down at your nightgown. It’s a satiny red that’s sheer near the bottom. You never took much notice of it, but now blowing in the wind against your legs, you do feel a bit exposed.

You clear your throat awkwardly, “I never took you for a 'red’ type of girl.”

“Neither did I…” Her eyes dart briefly over to where you assume Hook is. But you don’t take your eyes off her for a moment. She was definitely more skilled than you. Any slip up could mean certain doom.

Her lips then pull up in a sneer, “So did you have fun in it?”

“Excuse me?”

“Was he…able to provide you a swell time without cutting you up.”

You feel your cheeks burn at the implications, but your mouth runs before you can think. “You’d be surprised. Hook is very skilled with his hands.”

Now it’s her turn to blush. In fact her face almost glows pink. It nearly matches Hooks own expression toward her. And for some reason that sickens you.

“Ha! That’s putting it heavily. I much prefer the light touch of a gentleman.”

“I bet you would, darling.”

Her lips tighten up with an ugly scrunch of her nose. She flicks her wrist to flash her sword in the light. The gleam of it draws your gaze to the blade. A warning. You hold your own blade assuredly, bringing it in front of you.

You advance up the stairs and thrust your sword against hers. 

Swinging your sword around, you chase her over the upper deck, likely breaking and scraping little fixtures in the ship with your assault. When it seems like you have her, you bring your sword down again. She jumps back as she parries you, and when she leans in close, she thrusts again. Your body moves before your sword, flinching away from her swift strikes. At some points your weapon drags across the floor. You can feel the adrenaline rush from earlier wearing off. The tilt of the floor below you, along with the sun’s beating heat, is making you loopy.

Wendy takes notice of this, smirking. “You don’t even have what it takes to be a pirate.” She turns her left arm and strikes down at your leg. You cry out rather loudly, the stinging pain of being cut way harsher than expected. You hop back as she advances and you’re both going down the other flight of stairs.

The crowd behind you makes way subconsciously. Hook looks over with worry as he fends off the Unraveler. “Two women fighting over you – exciting isn’t it?” His opponent’s taunts fall on deaf ears.

You continue to backup, swinging wildly at Wendy. But she’s too confident. Too bold. She’s sure she will win. And for a moment, you think she might too.

The heel of your foot then catches on something big and you fall on your back. You turn your head, nearly lurching at the sight. Slumped over is the newly dead body of the man who’s throat you slit a moment before. His eyes are rolled upward, mouth slack and open. His chin and neck are coated in his own blood. You turn away just in time to see Wendy raising her sword overhead.

“Don’t worry.” she coos, her voice rising in glee. “Leave Hook to me.”

You hear him scream out of earshot, “Wendy!!!”

Without thinking you lunge for her middle, tackling her down with a newfound fierceness. Her sword flies from her hands. You make a grab for her neck, effectively throttling her and banging her head against the hardwood. She flips you over, about to do the same but you reel your knee back and send her flying off with a harsh kick.

She scrambles for purchase but you’re not finished, grabbing her by her hair and wrenching her up to her feet so you could cock your fist back and slug her across the face. 

“You brute!” Wendy shrieked. Her eyes squinted in anger with her jaw tightened and teeth clenched. She slaps you roughly before pulling at your hair as well. Her actions are that of a young angry woman, flailing and jerking about as she attacks you. Her blows still hurt, but she isn’t as methodical as before. And that’s your in.

“Y/N!” When Hook calls your name, your arm sticks out almost on instinct. You feel something cold and ribbed land in your palm. You curl your hand around the grip and jam the dagger into Wendy’s stomach. Her hands still in your hair, clench harshly, making you wince. You look into her wide blue eyes that trailed down to the blooming red in her dress. Her mouth hung open, taking in sharp little gasps at the sight. Her hands fell from your head, and after a beat, she went slack on your dagger. 

You ripped it from her body, letting her fall with a heavy thud.

Her death marks a gradual hush of the deck. Hook looks on, his eyes upon the body with an unreadable expression. Grimm and Hisame stand speechless as well. And finally, The Unraveler makes an expression that portrays genuine befuddlement at the scene before him: his heroine laid to death by the presumably meek and passive fledgling Reader he kidnapped just days before.

“I can fix this…” he mutters, backing up from Hook. “...I can always just … write her back to life later.”

Immediately he pulls out a book and reads him and all his men away and to their ship. Even Wendy’s body is nowhere to be found.

The pirates of the Jolly Roger cheer but it’s white noise in your ears. You feel yourself give in to the fatigue from the fight, stumbling backward and into a mast. The boys rush to your aid, coming at you from all sides. In your waning vision, you see Hook reach out to you before it all goes black.

—

When you wake up, you’re in his bed. Not the private room he gave you, but his own quarters. There’s maps lined up on the wall, and jewels and treasures placed around miscellaneously. 

You barely have time to process anything else before two sturdy arms envelope you in a tight hug. You feel yourself grin at the sudden greeting, but begin to groan when he presses kisses all along your face.

You lighty shove him back, “Augh, Hook… lemme go!”

His grin is unmistakable to place, even in his voice.

“Never, darling, never!”

===

It's five ammmm and I'm finished with storyyy :33

So sleepy gn - Elf queen

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 2 MATCH 5

Hook propaganda:

“I can go on a rant about this guy that'll make me look like Charlie in that one red string board meme image but I'll try to keep it brief- I wasn't sure about this guy at first but by the end of the novel he won me over completely. Mf has a lot of depth to him that a lot of other Genius INC characters don't have. He's a pirate that has a big heart for his crew and eventually for the protag as well. While he's smug and cocky and confident he has body image issues due to his disability bc his past girlfriend left him over it, but you can help him see that his disability isn't a bad or ugly thing and that he isn't less of a person because of it. He likes mind games and teasing but damn if this guy doesn't fall hard for the protag as soon as they show they genuinely care about him. He tries to play it off like they're foolish for caring about him or anyone but he always tries to jumps to protags aid when something bad happens to protect them. He also tries to coax protag out of their shell a little and get them to loosen up and have fun in life and gets happy when they fo wanna tag along with his ideas. His ending is super sweet too, he chooses to stay with the protag in their world instead of going back to his oen and becomes a photographer after learning about more about the protag's world.”

Edelgard propaganda:

“to summarize, she started a war but she was right. maybe her means weren't the best, but I'll always support my wife to tear down the church and end fodlan's reliance and discrimination on Crests”

[smash-or-pass-otome]

Hook from A Villain's Twisted Heart

Hook

[writeblrfantasy]

my 10 holy grail pieces of writing advice for beginners

from an indie author who's published 4 books and written 20+, as well as 400k in fanfiction (who is also a professional beta reader who encounters the same issues in my clients' books over and over)

show don't tell is every bit as important as they say it is, no matter how sick you are of hearing about it. "the floor shifted beneath her feet" hits harder than "she felt sick with shock."

no head hopping. if you want to change pov mid scene, put a scene break. you can change it multiple times in the same scene! just put a break so your readers know you've changed pov.

if you have to infodump, do it through dialogue instead of exposition. your reader will feel like they're learning alongside the character, and it will flow naturally into your story.

never open your book with an exposition dump. instead, your opening scene should drop into the heart of the action with little to no context. raise questions to the reader and sprinkle in the answers bit by bit. let your reader discover the context slowly instead of holding their hand from the start. trust your reader; donn't overexplain the details. this is how you create a perfect hook.

every chapter should end on a cliffhanger. doesn't have to be major, can be as simple as ending a chapter mid conversation and picking it up immediately on the next one. tease your reader and make them need to turn the page.

every scene should subvert the character's expectations, as big as a plot twist or as small as a conversation having a surprising outcome. scenes that meet the character's expectations, such as a boring supply run, should be summarized.

arrive late and leave early to every scene. if you're character's at a party, open with them mid conversation instead of describing how they got dressed, left their house, arrived at the party, (because those things don't subvert their expectations). and when you're done with the reason for the scene is there, i.e. an important conversation, end it. once you've shown what you needed to show, get out, instead of describing your character commuting home (because it doesn't subvert expectations!)

epithets are the devil. "the blond man smiled--" you've lost me. use their name. use it often. don't be afraid of it. the reader won't get tired of it. it will serve you far better than epithets, especially if you have two people of the same pronouns interacting.

your character should always be working towards a goal, internal or external (i.e learning to love themself/killing the villain.) try to establish that goal as soon as possible in the reader's mind. the goal can change, the goal can evolve. as long as the reader knows the character isn't floating aimlessly through the world around them with no agency and no desire. that gets boring fast.

plan scenes that you know you'll have fun writing, instead of scenes that might seem cool in your head but you know you'll loathe every second of. besides the fact that your top priority in writing should be writing for only yourself and having fun, if you're just dragging through a scene you really hate, the scene will suffer for it, and readers can tell. the scenes i get the most praise on are always the scenes i had the most fun writing. an ideal outline shouldn't have parts that make you groan to look at. you'll thank yourself later.

happy writing :)

[nanamiskentos]

THAT'S SO TRUE — toji fushiguro

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (e) and let the show begin !

prologue. → you vowed to yourself that you would rock toji fushiguro's world as a new year's resolution. but it's christmas eve already, and the year is almost over. by hook or by crook, you're gonna that gorgeous, buff older man in your bed tonight.

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns)

warnings. reader has never been chill a day in her life, áge gáp, dílf!toji, big díck toji (ofc), voyeurísm (sorta implied), másturbátion (f), jealous sèx, reader watches toji through binoculars, they match each other's freak, creámpíe, reader gets called 'slutty' and 'doll', orál (m and f. receiving)

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. that's so true — gracie abrams

a/n. incredible art by sakimichan 🍃 i had so much fun writing this 😁 reader is an adult!! i imagined toji to be 35-ish, and reader to be 22...? its christmas day for me so i'm a tad late 😩

mp3. bet you're thinking 'she's so cool' kicking back on your couch, making eyes from across the room. wait! i think i've been there too!

if your friends knew what you were up to right now, they'd skip the intervention and go straight to dragging you to the nearest police precinct.

forget a lecture, they would slap a pair of handcuffs on you first, citing charges of being horny to the first degree.

officer! she just can't keep it in her pants!

but did you care? not in the slightest.

you adjust the blinds, nudging them just enough to angle your binoculars a little lower. focus sharpened, lens zoomed in, and there he was. the object of your totally healthy, not-at-all unhinged plan.

the target in question? toji fushiguro.

your next-door neighbour, who also happened to look like he'd walked straight out of a naked biker calendar. leather jacket snug over his broad shoulders, a frame built for sin, and pectorals that were so sculpted, you often dreamed of bouncing walnuts off them. just to see if the nuts would crack.

months ago, you had made a new years resolution to yourself that you wouldn't end this year without bagging the man at least once.

yet here you were on christmas eve, a few days shy of the year's end, still plotting and scheming like a bond villain on how you could charm the socks right off toji fushiguro.

but you feared that tonight was beginning to deliver a cold, harsh slap of reality.

your heart suddenly gives an undignifed lurch as toji swings off his motorcycle in one fluid motion. but your smirk — yes, you had been smirking and you wouldn't deny that, vanished the moment your binoculars caught sight of her.

right behind him, a woman dismounted with all the grace and mature confidence that you wished you could summon on a good day.

you twist the focus knob, an unfamiliar figure sharpening into clarity. tall, polished, probably closer to toji's age rather than yours, and way too pretty for your scheming, heinous comfort.

she's hooking her arm through his like they did this all the time, and her cherry-sweet smile beams up at him like he'd hung the damn christmas lights himself.

and then, then! she leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, casual as a snowflake fluttering onto the concrete below.

your chest tightens oddly, though whether it was from jealousy or sheer mortification, you couldn't tell. and you didn't want to tell.

toji fushiguro, for his part, didn't seem fazed, at least, not outwardly. he turns his shaggy head away, smiling faintly with that gruff and polite expression he sometimes wore when someone cornered him into small talk.

not that it mattered. you couldn't stop the frown that tugged at your lips, watching the pair disappear out of view, the motorcycle keys still dangling from his thick fingers.

you sigh, setting the binoculars down with a little more force than necessary. tonight was supposed to be your night, the grand finale where you capped the year off with a big win in the shape of this six-foot-two man, with green eyes that could strike you dumb.

and you had even planned ahead! you'd been certain that there wouldn't be any pesky interruptions, particularly of the pint-sized variety.

not that you had anything against megumi fushiguro, he was a good kid — if a little unnerving with that brooding energy he carried around like a hefty backpack.

but still, you'd never really spoken to him much. call it morals or basic decency, but dragging a clueless kid into your schemes just felt a little wrong.

so when you had overheard toji casually mentioning that megumi was out for a sleepover with some friend, something about how nice it would be to have a night for himself, you had taken that as a sign from the universe. a green light.

fate herself waving you through the doors to make your move.

except now, traitorous fate had also thrown you a curveball in the form of the older, mystery woman who had been clinging to toji's back on the motorcyle. all expensive burgundy fur, and a darling blowout that was way out of a college student's pay cheque.

still, you're not the kind of woman who folds at the first sign of trouble. no, you think, squaring your shoulders. who would you be if you gave up now? perseverance is the backbone of triumph, or something like that.

the walls of this apartment are criminally thin, and you trust that the muffled thuds coming from next door are none other than toji fushiguro leading his...date up the stairs and down the hallway. the metallic jingle of keys confirms it, a sound that sends a pang of irritation prickling beneath your skin.

your gaze shifts to your desk, to the corkboard cluttered up with polaroids of your friends, random university flyers, and pinned up lecture schedules that you never follow. you press three fingers to your lips, in a respectful and solemn kiss, before tapping your photograph of aaron hotchner, in a promise for the near future.

"i won't give up, hotch," you murmur, the solemn, printed face of thomas gibson crossing his arms — gazing back at you, a beacon of motivational determination.

and with that, you grab a notepad and the first pen you can find, even though it's half-dried and it can barely write. you flip the pages open, and begin dotting down your back-up plan on how to score toji fushiguro tonight.

you're pretty sure it's been an hour since you started furiously scribbling on paper. five dried-out pens and a mountain of crumpled drafts later, each one titled with variations of how to get toji fushiguro in my bed, your notepad is starting to look like a pathetic manifesto.

you sip idly at your grape soda, the fizzy sweetness staining your tongue a violent purple. and listen, to be clear, you're absolutely a feminist. truly. you're not the type to believe in pitting women against each other. that's messy, unsophisticated, and frankly it's far beneath you.

but sadly, here's the other thing. desperate times call for desperate measures. and as much as you hate to admit it, toji fushiguro, your brooding and hulking neighbour with shoulders that eclipse the sun, has your resolve teetering right on the edge. the wanting and lusty human spirit is unbreakable, and the idea of losing is as appealing as licking sandpaper.

the sound of a low thud breaks through your plotting, as you drop the end of the pen out of your mouth. your ears perk up at the faint creak of a door opening. you recognise the gruff voice, muffled through the thin walls.

"damn heater's out again. 'm just gonna go check the switch downstairs."

uh-huh. that's what you thought. this was just act one of the stage play.

see, about forty five minutes ago, inspiration had struck. you'd realised you needed to get toji out of his apartment, and given his bear-like simplicity: eat, sleep, grumble, repeat, it wasn't exactly that easy.

but every man needed his rest, and no man could rest on christmas eve when the snow was sticking to the window pane from the cold.

so, you had snuck downstairs and flipped the heater's breaker to his apartment off, leaving the rest blissfully untouched. setting an ideal trap for the vast man.

you crack your door open, just enough to watch him lumber off towards the left staircase.

it's one of two routes down to the basement, and the fastest, if you hadn't intercepted fate. about twenty minutes into your plan, you had grabbed a handful of out of order signs (printed with comic sans, the true villain of typography) and plastered them halfway down the left flight of stairs.

you dart towards the right staircase, your knee-high socks skimming the concrete steps in a frantic descent. as you reach the halfway point, you hear the telltale grunt of a frustrated toji.

"damn management can't even warn people about closures," he's muttering to himself, heavy footsteps falling in line behind yours.

right on cue. by the time he reaches the basement, there you are, innocently peering at the big, clunky switchboard. like it wasn't you who had just broken into it to render toji's apartment a freezing chill.

your sweater's been strategically tugged off one shoulder, and you're pretending the icy air isn't slicing at your bare legs, left exposed by the shortest pair of shorts you own.

"what brings ya down here?" toji grunts, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.

you count it as a small victory when his eyes sweep over you, slow and deliberate, before the older man coughs and shifts his focus back to the switchboard. you sidle closer under the guise of curiosity, so close that the fabric of your sweater brushes his arm. the steel biceps flexing under the tight, black fabric of his tee.

"i don't know," you sigh, feigning innocence with a touch of melancholia, "it jus' got so cold of all a sudden." you cross your arms over your chest, pretending to shiver just enough to catch his attention without looking concerningly ill.

toji glances down at you briefly, his brow furrowing, "mhm. yeah," he mutters, before turning back to the labyrinth of switches, "can't believe how these clowns the place."

you watch as the man leans in, studying the panel like it's some kind of ancient artefact. his expression is set in that serious, furrowed way men always get when faced with the unfamiliar terrain of household maintenance.

cute. almost.

you, of course, had done your homework. a quick google search of the model number earlier had led you to the manual, and you already knew it was the purple switch on the top right. but why rush, eh? if toji fushiguro wanted to play handyman, who were you to deprive him? especially when you needed a little more time to set the mood, to give him some ideas.

every time his fingers hovered closer to the correct switch, you leaned in, cutting him off with casual chatter. enough to have the man's eyes drop over you once more, before flicking away before he could break the bounds of propriety.

"so, are you doing anything tonight?"

"what?" his gruff tone reverberates through the dim basement, bouncing off the concrete walls.

you flutter your lashes at him, meeting his sharp, verdant gaze, "i mean, it's christmas eve. got any fun plans?"

he straightens slightly, his hand falling from the panel as he looks right at you, "nah. just stayin' in." but toji tilts his head and throws the question back at you, "why aren't you?"

"why aren't i, what?" you tilt your head to mirror the man, feigning confusion, "staying inside? i was, but then i got cold. y'know, busted heater and all."

toji exhales through his nose, and you watch mesmerised as the scar twitches over his lip, "no, doll. i mean, doing something fun. you're young. got your whole life ahead of you to be old and boring."

the faintest flicker of a genuine smile tugs at the corner of your glossy lips. if only he knew. you clear your throat, "i guess," and you shrug, the movement subtle, but just enough to let your sweater slip a little further off your shoulder, "it's just not my...taste."

your gaze trails over him, deliberate but not obvious enough to tip the scales out of your hand. you hope that you're not wide-eyed taking in how his broad shoulders ripple, almost tense?

"ah." toji fushiguro, everybody. a man of great wit, and even greater vocabulary.

he's tapping a knuckle against the switchboard, frowning at the rows of colourful levers like they've personally insulted him. you take the moment to edge a little closer, peering up at him with a deliberate and doe-eyed expression.

"need help?" you ask, voice sweet enough to break through teeth.

toji snorts, "you? help me with this?" he glances at you sideways, one thin brow quirking up, "i've got this, doll," but he seems to sober up, remembering that he does not have this, "unless you even know what this thing does?"

"of course i do," you shrug, feigning nonchalance, "i'm pretty good at flicking the right switch."

and what a sweet, untainted victory when toji's movements still. he doesn't tear his gaze away from the switchboard, but his hands pause and you see his lips twitch, "uh-huh."

"you should probably head back upstairs," he says gruffly, his tone almost concerned, "basement's freezin' and you're gonna catch a cold in, uh," and toji's gesturing vaguely at your thin ensemble, clearly trying to be polite.

"i know, but i was just comfortable in this," you run your hands, pretending to tug at the hem of your shorts. ignoring how the goosebumps are practically beating your ass right now, and you're about an inch of a temperature drop away from hypothermia.

toji fushiguro mutters something under his breath, something about attitude and young people these days, but he doesn't move away when you sidle back closer to him again, the faint brush of your arm against his making the great man stiffen up again.

"so, no christmas eve plans at all?" you press again, cocking your head, "not even a little festive cheer? eggnog?"

"festive cheer?" toji scoffs, finally pulling the purple switch as the low hum of the heater continues to chug away. dusting his hands off like he's just solved a national crisis, like you couldn't have solved that ten minutes ago, "i'm not big on christmas."

"that's tragic," you sigh, "and i was gonna ask you to stand with me under the mistletoe." your tone is teasing, light enough to deflect any serious questions but you let your lips form a soft pout. just enough to teeter on the edge of innocence. the faint, almost-whine in your tone is carefully calibrated: harmless on the surface but laced with the kind of undercurrent that can plant ideas in a man's head.

"ya' got jokes tonight," toji's gaze lingers, a little longer than necessary. you don't miss the way his shoulders draw tighter together. how his jaw ticks, but the real prize for you is when his hand slides up to rub the back of his neck, fingers kneading at the thick muscle, like he's trying to shake something loose.

the corner of your mouth twitches again, oh. you've got him now.

"imagine going through life, so lonely on christmas. that's gotta do something to a person." you're so not seeing the pearly gates, but you've come to terms with that.

"yeah? like what?" toji huffs.

you tap a finger against your chin, pretending to think, "well. for starters, it probably makes you very grumpy."

"tch, 'm not grumpy," toji rasps, but his tone says otherwise, as he runs a hand through sleek strands of dark hair, "yer' something else, you know that?"

"i've been told."

tojo shakes his head again, and you don't miss the faint smile tugging at the corner of his thin mouth, "alright, kid. time to head back up before you freeze to death down here."

time's up on this charade. you puff out a breath, your coy bravado dimming just a little bit, "fine, fine. but i'm not a kid, y'know."

toji's green eyes flick to yours, like chips of sea-glass as he holds your gaze, before turning back towards the stairs, "yeah. i know."

you follow him up in silence, the soft patter of your socks suddenly too cold on the pavement. at the top of the steps, toji pauses, glancing back at you with an unreadable expression, "get some rest. and make sure no-one's messin' with the switches."

"why would they do that?" you say, a touch too quickly.

"no reason," toji says, just as abruptly, stepping back as though putting physical distance between you two would help, "but it's all fixed now. go on, back to your apartment."

you blink, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift, "what? no thanks for keeping you company."

"thanks," toji fushiguro says flatly, but his gaze isn't unkind.

"wow. don't get too sentimental on me now."

"goodnight," the man deadpans, swinging your door open for you, just for good measure. before turning on his heel, and heading for his own room.

back to the drawing board.

toji fushiguro is convinced that the universe has it out for him. some karmic retribution is surely circling overhead, just waiting to strike. because really, what other explanation is there for his constant predicaments?

his life had been fine, a little lonely, sure, but manageable. until you moved in next door, perhaps sometime last year. sweet, maddening, entirely too pretty for your own good.

what the hell was toji supposed to do with that?

he's still rubbing the back of his neck, pushing open the door to his apartment. his date, right, was still perched on the old couch, scrolling through her phone. she's looking up at him when he entered, arching a brow.

"hey, you were gone for a while," she lightly comments, tucking her phone away.

"yeah, uh, sorry 'bout that," he mutters, crossing to the kitchen, "this place has a habit of breaking down on me."

shui had set him up with this woman, insisting that toji needed to crawl out of his self-imposed hermit hole and start living a little.

"you're not getting any younger, fushiguro," shui had snarked, as if toji didn't already feel every year weighing on him. so, fine. he'd agreed, figuring one dinner with a woman way out of his tax bracket wouldn't kill him.

and to be fair, the date had been...fine. the woman was attractive, sharp-witted, and she didn't pester him with inane questions. the kind of woman that most people would be thrilled to spend an evening with. but toji just couldn't shake the strange emptiness that had settled in his chest.

still, he had told himself to quit overthinking. maybe he was just out of practice. or maybe shui oddly had a point, and he needed to stop letting life pass him by. so, he'd invited her back to his place, hoping another glass of wine and small talk would lead one things into another.

what he hadn't counted on was running into you in the basement. how your light voice would replay in his head, that teasing lilt burrowing under his thick skin and leaving him restless.

tojo shakes his head, reaching for a couple of glasses and the half-decent bottle of wine that he kept stashed away from megumi's prying hands. kid was at that age where he was too damn curious for his own good about everything. his brain, however, was still stuck in the basement, circling around you.

what the hell had you been doing there anyway? sidling up to him all close, sickeningly sweet perfume or some shit that made his jaw clench. batting long lashes at him, and teasing him about mistletoe kisses.

civility. decency. that was the bare minimum that he could give you, wasn't it?

"you've got quite the collection of, uh, things up there," his date's voice pulls him back, gesturing to the open cabinet with a polite smile. toji glances at colourful boxes of cereal, and the little plastic bowls with cartoon animals splashed all over them. megumi's favourites.

"yeah," he says gruffly, pouring the wine, "got a kid. just the one."

she nods, taking the glass he hands her, "that's sweet. how old?"

"six. he's...not here tonight."

before his date can reply, catch the insinuation that he's thrown out, another sound filters through the paper-thin walls. a giggle, a sweet laugh followed by a voice he knows all too well.

"i know, right! he was like, totally into me!"

toji freezes, the wine bottle hovering mid-pour over his second glass. he sets the bottle down with a little more force than necessary, pretending not to notice the way his date glanced toward the wall, clearly having heard you too. fantastic. as if the universe hadn't done enough to torment him today.

his teeth ground together as your voice floated through again, a singsong lilt that made his chest thump, and irritation flare all at once. what were you even talking about? who the hell was 'totally' into you?

"uh-huh," you had been laughing, your voice carrying through the wall, "and then, he asked me out!"

toji's grip tightens on his glass, wondering who on earth managed to pull you into a date. wait, why did he even care?

his date seems oblivious to the internal war raging inside of him, taking a sip of her wine and smiling, "so, what's your son's name?"

"megumi," he mutters, absently, eyes flicking through the wall like he could see through it if he squinted hard enough. ugh, what an awful thing to think. what was wrong with him? acting like freak, not able to mind his own business.

his date's laugh is soft and polite, "that's cute."

cute, yeah.

you thought it was cute too, didn't you? he remembered the way your eyes lit up when megumi toddled after you once in the hallway, clutching one of his ridiculous animal-print bowls.

"oh, what did i say?" your voice drifts again through the walls, following by a light laugh, "look, he was cute and all, but he just wasn't my type."

toji rubs a hand down his face, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his noise. you're just his neighbour. you're entitled to have your fun, to live your own life. that doesn't mean he has to like hearing about it.

meanwhile, his date sits stiffly on the couch, politely pretending your voice isn't bleeding through the walls like a radio she can't turn off. she's doing a commendable job of feigning disinterest, but toji knows it's killing what little momentum the evening had.

he clears his throat, trying to salvage things, "so, uh, got any plans for tomorrow? something fun for christmas?" great, now he's stealing lines from you.

her smile tightens, polite but clearly wavering, "just lunch with my family. my sister's bringing her kids over."

toji nods, grasping at conversational straws, "that's nice. i've got, uh, a brother. and an annoying little cousin."

"right," and she's glancing up at the clock, her patience thinning faster than her smile.

"oh, come on," your voice pipes up again, clearer this time, "you know my type's never been those kinds of guys. i like the big, rough ones." there's a pause, and then you laugh, the sound both coy and infuriatingly knowing, "yeah, like a bit older. all muscles."

toji freezes, trying to pretend like his insides aren't doing the tango. his date, on the other hand, has clearly reached her limit. her lips purse into a tight smile as she stands, smoothing her dress, "look, you've been nice and all," she says, voice clipped, clearly cutting off the chances of a second date, "but i really should get going."

toji fushiguro doesn't argue. doesn't even try to stop her. just watches as her expensive-ass coat swings off his couch, her heels clicking toward the door and her figure vanishing down the hallway.

he slouches back on the couch, arms sprawled wide, feigning a calm that he doesn't definitely feel. in truth, he's seconds away from keeling over, his chest tight and his pulse betrays him.

"huh?" your voice filters through the paper-thin walls, questioning and laced with mirth. the sound sends a shiver down his spine, and down somewhere else, "oh, my neighbour? toji, yep, that's him!"

his head jerks up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, eyes boring into the wall like he can will it to dissolve. tch, he's being such a dog. his ears are straining, sharp and unreasonably hopeful.

"yeah, he's so perfectly my type. tsk! yes, of course, i wish he'd just...yeah. anyway. but," you sigh, a dramatic exhale, "but i just don' think he's into me."

toji freezes, as heat floods his face, creeping down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. there's a traitorous clench in his groin as his stomach flips in a way that's both exhilarating and completely unwelcome.

the truth — shameful and complicated as it is — is that he is very much into you. has been for months. and it's getting worse.

every time you lean into him with those wide, sparkling eyes, every time you tease him with some playful jab or brush your fingers against his arm like it’s nothing, it carves a little deeper into his self-control. you're sweet, bright, always full of questions and comments that manage to sound innocent and maddeningly suggestive all at once.

but there's a prickling shame that comes with it, too, a harsh voice in the back of his head that tells him to grow the hell up. he's a grown man, for crying out loud.

a grown man with a kid who needs him, who already has enough on his plate without the complication of a pretty little neighbour who could turn his world upside down without even trying.

what could he offer you, anyway? you, who barrels down the hall in the mornings with an oversized bag bouncing against your hip, always late for something important, always in motion.

your life is big and full and bursting with possibilities. his, by comparison, feels...worn. quiet. comfortable in a way that makes him feel ancient when he looks at you.

still, it doesn't stop toji from looking. or from thinking things he shouldn't, like how your laughter lights up even the dullest days. or sometimes, in the quiet hours of the night, pulling his hard cock out to tug on it, imagining your doe-eyes peering up at him.

toji rubs a hand over his face, groaning quietly into the crook of his elbow. what the fuck is he supposed to do with this?

you're starting to lose precious steam. for all your big talk about not giving up and winning toji over, the spark of confidence that got you this far is starting to sputter out. the lines that you'd carefully scribbled in blue ballpoint ink, a full script of fake laughter and coy quips begins to feel...a little tragic.

half an hour of pacing your apartment and pretending to be on the phone has left you feeling deflated, and painfully self-aware. your voice has grown too practiced, too rehearsed and you're starting to wonder if you even sound convincing anymore. and for all you know, toji fushiguro didn't even hear one word of it.

he's probably in there, sprawled on his couch, having a great time with his date. maybe laughing, maybe pouring wine, or maybe he's taken her to bed. fuck, your stomach lurches as your insides flip for no good, kind reason.

you glance at the cooling grape soda on your nightstand, still fizzing lazily in its can, and suddenly feeling quite awful. disgusted with yourself for the plotting, the dramatics, and the fact that it hasn't paid off in the slightest.

with a sigh that's more frustrated and resigned, you flop back onto your bed, ignoring the slight bounce of the mattress as you land. your apartment suddenly feels too hot, the air sticky and stifling.

you kick off the blanket that's bunched around your ankles, and you lie sprawled on top of the quilt. head tilted back against the pillows as you take in the dull hum of the light fixture and the occasional creak of the pipes.

with a despondent sigh, you find yourself half-heartedly parting your legs — maybe to entertain some false fantasy instead. you could have gone out, maybe really lived a little, just as toji had suggested.

you roll down the waistband of your shorts, pulling at the soft, elastic band. just tugging them down enough so you can trail your hands over the flesh of your thighs. yeah, you were that morose right now.

perhaps, you should have accepted the invites to all those christmas parties. you could have dolled up a little, grabbed a sweet drink or two on the house, fallen into the strong arms of a stranger?

you trail your hands over thin, soft skin. nails gently grazing over your mound, as you quickly run your middle finger through your slit, already dewy and moist. you muffle a small whine, because for all your showmanship earlier, you weren't above decency. and these walls were truly that thin.

but it's hard to not buck your hips up into your own touch, working your puffy cunt open with steady fingers. one finger, and then a second, fluttering at a gentle pace. how telling that the mysterious stranger in your fantasies is suddenly far older, with hazy green eyes and charcoal hair falling over his face.

you substitute the slap of your fingers for his, pretending its a rough thumb that pulls at your clit, gently pushing the throbbing hood up to run misshapen circles over the bundle of nerves.

"hah," you try to gnaw at your lower lip, keeping your mouth shut, as you're desparate for the creak of your bed frame to not carry over into the apartment next door, "t-toji, please."

there's a faint thud from next door, like someone has just hit their head. but you can hardly register it in your own mind. shuffling whines leaving your lips, as you use your fingers to stretch out your slick, sodden walls. getting faster, and faster with each piston-like gesture to curl the pads of your fingers up. searching, keening around for that rough spot that makes you squeal.

your eyes are fluttering shut, lashes falling against your cheek as your jaw tightens, heartbeat beginning to race as you heave for air, back arching up as you use your other hand to furiously flick over your clit, building up a steady ache in your wrist that you ignore, "ah, ah, toji, r-right there, fuck, 'm close."

each press of your finger against the walls of your entrance results in a large squelch echoing through your ears, getting closer and closer to that devastating peak, all the while as hallucination-toji snickers down at you and —

"hey!"

and just like that, your long-awaited orgasm, your beautiful climax, well. she disappears with nary a goodbye. your eyes snap open, heart hammering as you blink up at the dull ceiling. your hand is yanked away from your cunt, the cool air suddenly hitting the slick that's coating your fingers. your mind stutters, scrambling for clarity as an all-too-familiar voice cuts through the quiet.

"hey! c'mon, doll. don't have all day."

toji. toji fushiguro. oh, shit.

the panic rises quickly, what are your options? dive out the window and hope that you land on your feet? or fake an illness so convincing that you convince him that's contagious so he leaves? you consider it for a moment, but something else takes over. far more brave, or just reckless and lust-addled. you pull yourself upright, tugging your shorts back up. you shift your sheets, making sure that the dark, translucent patch is covered.

you pad towards the door with the air of a man marked for execution. when you swing it open, you're met with a red-faced toji. is he flushed?

you drop any cute pretense, and instead, lock your petulant gaze on his chest, straight up with the no eye-contact rule. it gives you a real, shameless good look at those heavenly sculpted pecs.

"what do you want?" you ask, voice as flat as you can possibly manage. but you're keenly aware of that mirror-gloss still coating your hands, and you wonder if its too obvious to scrunch your fingers in your sweatshirt. gross, someone get you out of here. the misery of your own making.

toji stands there, entirely dumbounded, and you notice the flush creeping up the peachy tan of his neck, a shade deeper than usual, "what do i want? what do you want?" he says, his voice rock-rasp.

you swallow thickly, ignoring the addled scent of leather, musk and something far more faintly addictive, "i have no idea what you mean."

toji huffs, obviously amused, before mimicking your voice with exaggerated sweetness, "oh, toji, please. right there, toji." he's mocking you, and your skin burns with the recent memory of that exact tone.

you consider for a split second if you can just hand him your lease tomorrow morning and call it quits. but then, toji continues, "y'know these walls are thin, right?"

you cross your arms, trying to steady yourself, ignoring how your poor cunt clenches with the faint memory of her ruined orgasm, "really? i had no idea."

toji mirrors your actions, his arms folding, but the effect only pushes his pecs up, and you try not to get distracted. but it's hard, very hard, "don't get all smart with me now. been hearing you giggle all evenin' and being all slutty."

"thought you had a date," you mutter, the act of playing pretend has long since passed and you're too far gone now to pretend. you scowl up at toji, meeting his gaze head-on, feeling your heart race as his eyes narrow and his pink lips part slightly. you can almost feel the urgent heat of his gaze dragging over your hand, your damp fingertips.

"how'd you know about my date? suddenly real concerned for me?" toji tilts his head, voice laced with infuriating amusement, and you fight the urge to lash out, to throw yourself into him and kiss him fuckin' stupid. instead, you dig in your heels, staying put.

"no, i'm not concerned," you stutter, floundering for a reason, "i'm just, well —"

"who asked you out?" toji cuts through your flickering thoughts, an undercurrent of something sharper in his tone.

"huh?"

"who was it? the one who isn't your type?" toji fushiguro says this all so casually, making your stomach flip. so he had been listening, he heard every word of you flouncing around your room.

you swallow hard, ignoring the sudden fluttering in your chest, "why? you jealous?" the words spill out before you can stop them, you raise an eyebrow, feeling a small victory in the way his priggish expression falters just slightly, "just go back to your date, fushiguro."

"gettin' real bold now," he murmurs, and you realise just how close the two of you are. how you can feel his body heart radiating off him. the tension between you is suffocating to say the last, and you can't decide if you want him to step back or push closer. he doesn't give you a chance to answer.

"thanks to your pretty antics, she sent herself packin', and now i'm all on my lonesome."

"how sad for you," and you suddenly curl your lip, "get a vibrator."

toji's maw drops open for a split second, before he shakes his head, "you first. don't know how you were doing all that without one," and he nods to your hand, "and because i wasn't hearin' much else."

something bold and red-hot comes over you, egged on by the damp sticking to your thighs, "want a visual demonstration?"

you barely have time to form a coherent thought before toji moves, a low growl rumbling in his barrel-like chest as he surges forward. his hands, large and calloused and warm, cup your face with surprising gentleness, though the intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt. then, his lips crash against yours, rough and unrelenting. the faint scrape of the scar cutting across his mouth sending a shiver through you.

it's not careful, it's testing and tasting. as if he's waiting for you to push him away. but oh, you're not going anywhere. not when his kiss is setting your nerves alight, and sending your heart into a dizzying free fall. merry christmas to you, indeed.

you respond in kind, just as desperate, your hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders. the solid, hefty weight of toji beneath your fingers grounds you, even as the world tilts on its axis.

"ohh, look at you," toji all but purrs, pawing his hands over your back, your waist, settling over your hips as he pushes you further into your apartment. a strong arm stretching out to slam the door closed, tugging you further in. it seems he's too needy to even reach the bed, and you whine as you're shoved with your back to the wall. his hand coming up to make sure you don't quite slam in with too much force.

toji's lips are practically meshed to your own, and he's already pulling at the waistband of your shorts again. just as you were doing earlier, and you shudder, feeling thick fingers run along your hips.

"s-shit," toji gasps, "if ya' don't want me to —"

you groan, "no, n-no. want you," your voice quivers suddenly as warm fingers press into your soaked cunt. finding home right among your weeping slit. you don't even see where your shorts have been thrown, instead focusing on toji's hazy eyes flickering when they see that you've been wearing nothing underneath. all damn evening.

you don't think you've ever seen the man so dishevelled, heaving for air, as he tries to come to terms with all this, "so when you were in that basement, jus' tryna tease me? is that what you wanted?"

you can't help but laugh, but it's quickly cut off when toji's pressing a hot kiss to the very tip of your clit, it's so feather light and oddly gentle for the gruff man, and it has you keening over.

"that's it, gon' have you all in my mouth. gonna drink ya' up, it's what you wanted, right?" he uses two fingers to press right up against your entrance, parting your oozing folds so he can narrow his eyes at how ready you are for him, "gonna put this all in a cup, and drink it."

"t-toji!" you whine out, feeling your head go all light, and weightless, watching toji play with your core. seeing the older man gape at how you're soaking divots into his fingers, seeing emerald eyes darken with a carnal need to taste you. right now.

"stay still, doll. yeah, just for a sec," toji's hands tighten around your thighs, smacking a fat glob of spit over your trembling core, letting his index finger run the fluid up and down your pussy, a ragged laugh running raw from his smart mouth, "had no idea you were like this, been burying your pretty fingers in your cunt for me before, right?"

you need to get a hit of your own in, before toji fushiguro turns your mind to mush, "you been fisting around your cock for me, then too? bet it super hard when — fuck!"

your words are cut off by the flat pads of his fingertips coming down to deliver a jolt to your throbbing clit, slapping wet arousal around as toji almost glares up at you, but it's softened by lazy fondness.

"watch ya' mouth, doll. 'm wanting to go easy on you tonight."

he's delving straight into your cunt, like a man starved and searching for salvation between your thighs. you feel your mind go blank, that ruined orgasm of the past hour practically gaining a life of her own and cheering once more, coming back to you in embarrassing, full force as it barely takes a few, quick munches of toji's tongue around your sweet pussy.

that's all you need before you're quickly seeing flashing stars, and doing your best to hide the tremble in your thighs. but toji's having none of that.

his laugh is low, mocking and so ruined, "tchh, i really did interrupt ya' didn't i? must have been so close on that bed," but he's not stopping, practically speaking into your stimulated cunt, punctuating his words with buttery kisses, "must have caught ya' on the very edge for her to so ready for me."

"shut u-up."

"your wish? my command," toji snickers, letting your slick, running juices gather over his chin, "and you taste so good. she's a sweet thing, right," and you realise that he's not talking about you, but rather, about your weeping, glossy cunt that's shoved against his sharp nose. you've got the man practically pussydrunk already, and he's hardly gotten a good feel for it.

his hand comes to rest on your bare thigh, tapping it, "now 'm gonna need you to move that, yeah, that's right," you're slotting it over his broad shoulders, and it pulls him closer. and at this point, you don't even care for how you should be embarrassed, should be feeling some shame at having this rugged, older man salivating into your cunt. but there's a shocking glee instead, a quiet victory that's bubbling in your abdomen and already demanding an encore.

his tongue darts out again, this time he's prodding the muscle at your entrance, feeling for that slight resistance made weaker by your fingers earlier, all on your own. the very tip of his tongue in you has you whining again, slapping a hand over your lolling mouth.

"move that hand," toji grunts, punctuating each word with a flick to your clit.

"i c-can't," you gasp, hands finding a home in his clingy, dark strands, "people are gonna hear-ahhh," he's practically mouthing himself onto your pussy, slick strands separating from his lips each time he pulled away for air. the stimulation is making you so much more sensitive, tears springing to the corners of your eyes as the pleasure begins to sting so deliciously.

you pull fingers through ink-black hair, delicate threads that are soft to the touch and feather-light, "h-here, toji," you curl your fingers to angle him perfectly just so, and the burly man is letting you use him, letting you drag his mouth over your slippery folds. just so you can get him to flick his tongue over that spot that makes you cry out so perfectly.

and toji thinks he's never seen a greater sight. he feels a dizzy, heaving tightness in his jeans, that ache building in his groin like he's about to bust his load just from having you fall apart so prettily on his tongue. he ups the pace, making sure to nimbly etch patterns over your heated, swollen clit. he had you right where he wanted you, needed you, and he'd be damned before he'd left you high and dry.

"y'know, 'm thinking about to see this pretty pussy cum again," and toji sounds so proud, taking gratified in the fact that after only one taste, he's already attuned to the signs of your climax. the way your eyes roll back in your head, tears pricking at your eyes in a way that makes his cock ache even harder.

you're unabashed now, rolling your hips into him at a messy pace. letting spikes of white-hot and red-searing pleasure curl up in your abdomen, ready to burst. the entirety of his lower chin is coated in sweet slick, glistening his rough scar, with a clear drop just beading at his lip.

"i-i think 'm gonna, toji, toji - feels s-so —"

toji's mocking you, pitching his raspy voice up again to capture your tone, "oh yeah? 'm gonna, what? what are ya' gonna do? gonna cum, because that's what i'm here for, doll."

he's making a mess now, switching between a cool, short puff of air at your throbbing clit, and letting his tongue push into your gummy walls, unending pleasure until —

"aaand, cum. now, doll."

it bursts within you, swiftly and briskly. so intense that the edges of your visions become clouded with dark spots, a hazy vignette of sheer pleasure from toji's mouth running all over the filthy mess you've created. the gushing climax that must be soaking the scuffed, dark floorboards beneath toji's bent knees.

you don't even realise that you're still babbling his name, entirely lost in the daze of your second orgasm of the night. little cries of toji, like a prayer over and over, mantras that are making toji grin with his gleaming lips underneath you. all as he wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you with brute strength. all the while not separating himself from your oversensitive cunt, petting soft kisses over your inner thighs, "gorgeous thing, aren'tcha? think ya' give me another one?"

you groggily lift your head as he sets you down on the bed, caging you beneath his considerable frame, "why? don't wanna, uh, stuff my stocking tonight?"

toji's green eyes flicker with mirth, amusement, only punctuated by him rolling them back in faux-disgust, "still runnin' that clever mouth, hah."

you squirm as he pushes his rough hands under your sweatshirt, letting both hands cup your breasts, pinching and twirling fingertips over your nipples, "are you a, mmph, a candy cane, toji?"

he doesn't break his concentration from where he's peeling your top off, "what nasty shit are ya' gonna say now?"

you giggle as he brushes past a particularly ticklish spot, "because i think you're s-sweet, and i wanna suck you."

"fuck."

in the blink of an eye, he's got you perched over on your knees, just as he hovers you. waistband pulled down enough to reveal black boxers, close enough that you could stick your chin out and press a soft kiss to the darkened patch of pre-cum that must be driving toji crazy.

and well, it's big. like it's jingle bells, jingle balls type of big. you drag your eyes from soft, curled black hair at the base of his groin and down an angry, thick red shaft that makes you clench your thighs.

"wan' me to slide over your chimney?"

that gifts you a barked, punched laugh out of the man — toji's got a large hand wrapped around his cock, "c'mon, doll. put that smart mouth to good use then," inching it closer to your lips in silent permission. you part your lips, anticipating the savoury pre that coats your tongue, the translucent fluid dripping from your mouth already.

he's thumbing down on your lower lip, easing the red mushroom tip into your waiting, eager mouth, "hah, think ya' were meant to take me. how's...how's this slutty mouth so perfect?" toji sounds ruined, all rock-salt rasp and his pink lips fall open, and a flush is painted over his tan skin.

you've never been one to give up, ready to angle your head lower, eager to take as much of him as possible into your mouth. but it's a hard stretch, as crystalline tears cling to your lashes, from the tight wrap of the back of your mouth around his throbbing cock.

toji's got his hand wrapped in your hair now, and you can tell that he's trying to be gentle with the strands as he angles your head lower, purring as you take him so well, "f-fuck, a perfect tease, yeah? fuckin' amazing," and you know he's telling the truth, for his cock is practically twitching with a life of its own in your mouth.

you've got this man hazy and drunk, just from sucking you off, and the realisation makes you whine all over again. reaching a hand down in between your thighs to rock up against your clit, all at the same steady pace.

and you know that toji is close, for those sculpted thighs of pure muscle tremble now, the powerful cords quivering as he bucks his hips, fucking your mouth in long, steady strokes. you also realise that you want him to cum, just like this, to have thick white fall from your lips to really seal and sweeten the deal.

but suddenly, you're left popping your lips shut, as toji groans, genuinely groans and shudders, pulling himself out of your mouth with a wet slop!

"don' give me that look, doll," toji chuckles, his chest heaving underneath the sculpted outline of his dark shirt, "can stuff ya' mouth with my cock later, if that's what you want. but 'm really gonna lose it if i'm not in her right now," and he's angling you back to give a loving, gentle pat to your glistening cunt.

rough, calloused hands slide across your bare back with an unexpected gentleness, against the soft curve of your spine as toji presses you into the mattress, so your head is finally resting back against the pillow.

toji's enjoying this, you know that, just from how he's taking your times to pull your thighs apart, sucking in a harsh breath at how your sleek entrance practically winks at him. tugging his hands roughly on his rock-hard cock, all so he can run the fat tip over your clit, making you mewl.

"don't t-tease, toji," you sniffle, feeling the searing tip push up against your clitoral hood, that nerves so stimulated that you're bucking up into him, wanting toji to just put the damn thing in already.

"fuck, doll," toji's taking a small mercy on you, pressing the first inch into your cunt, "i don't 'm the tease here, god knows how long you were jus' jacking off on the other side of the wall. hopin' that i'd come and stuff you like this?"

each inch that's bullying itself into making your head spin, making you wrap arms around his thick neck, just as he presses a soft kiss to the crook of your collarbone, "ya' good, doll? 's not too much for your, hnngh, tight lil' cunt, is it?"

you mewl as he bottoms out, and the stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's so deliciously big within you, scraping at the inside of your walls, "wan' be on top, toji."

"oh, yeah? lucky that i like ya' this much, givin' me orders and bossin' me around," toji huffs, using thick arms to pull you up instead, flipping you around so he's got you straddling his thighs, split apart so perfectly around his gliding cock.

"mmph, 's much deeper like this, toji," you chase after his lips, running your tongue over the taut, rigid scar that cuts over the right side of his mouth, all while he starts to set a maddening pace, bouncing you like a pretty toy over his cock, swabbing your insides with buttery wads of pre-cum, all sticky and loud in the silence of the night.

"lookin' good, doll," toji's grin can only be described as shark-like, and he's clearly pleased by the echoing squelches from the filthy mess that's dolloped between your groins, the smack of your ass against your thighs, tacky strands sticking to skin.

your chest is pressed against his shirt, and he's so enjoying the view. loves seeing how the swell bounces and hypnotises him, fuck, toji wonders how he's gonna go about the rest of his life away from you and your perfect pussy.

your eyes widen as you glance back, swivelling your head over your shoulder to watch the smacking movement of you against him, at how his thighs hold you up with a steady rhythm, "you're f-fuckin' me really well, toji," and god, he thinks he might just lose it all, then and there. the praise from your dewy lips is rushing straight into his cock, turning his mind to mush as he finds himself on some sort of autopilot.

he needs to cum in you, right now, needs to feel you milk him for all he can give. to stuff your syrupy cunt with mounds of weeping inches, and he's picking up the pace. smacking heavy, laden balls against your skin, so you whine and keen into him.

you're so caught up in the pleasure that you don't even realise toji had said something, words snapping around his teeth as he bounces you over and over, making sure that you ride him good, "w-what?"

"a date, doll," toji groans, smacking your hand away from your clit, just so he can toy with it, faster and faster, "lemme take ya' out properly, what'd ya' say to that, huh?"

"wanna take me o-out?" you all but weep over him, spearheaded on his tip, and raking sharp nails over iron abs, all underneath his tight top, "please, please, t-toji, wanna go out with you! and then," you hiss as he angles himself just right, curved sheath kissing that perfect g-spot deep within you, "and then i wanna do t-this all over again."

it makes toji's hips stutter, "yeah? pretty girl wants me to take her out, parade her around t-town, hah, i can do that. i can do all of that," he's gasping, feeling your tight heat snatch the life out of him. each girthy vein rubbing itself against your tacky cunt, "i can do all of that, and more. jus' lemme show ya', i'll spoil ya' for anyone else. those d-dumb college boys."

and you look at him with such gorgeous, pretty eyes that toji wonders how on earth he's gonna function now, with you so supplanted in his life. on his cock, even. he can taste something faintly sweet and artificial on your tongue, like tangy grape as he sucks on the muscle.

"never wanted a-any of them anyway, jus' you, toji. only you."

toji fushiguro loses his mind, he's cumming and his own orgasm is hitting him so hard that, in the back of his mind, he's concerned at how he's just filling you up. sloppy thrusts slowing down as thick, white translucent spurts paint your insides, right up to where he can see the divot of his tip through your abdomen. where you've taken in him so deep.

"s-shit," toji presses his mouth to yours again, harder, "look what ya' doin' to me, ruining me," and he also feels just a little bad for ruining your sheets, right as your own umpteenth climax for the night hits you, glossy and clear over the black tufts of hair. your pretty mouth pulled open in a wordless cry of his name, but toji doesn't let go. he lets you ride it out, that sticky mess becoming an afterthought for later.

in the hazy glow, toji's eyes wander over the mess of your room. but something else catches his attention, wads of paper flattened by an empty can of soda. he tilts his head, hair falling over his forehead, dampened by sweat. reaching for the paper with his curiosity piqued.

before he can fully read the words, you're suddenly pawing at his arm, practically leaping into him to get in the way, "wait, toji, don't! hey, that's private!" your voice is an odd mix of urgency and embarrassment, nothing like the angelic whimpers from a few minutes ago. you're swatting at his thick hand, trying to grasp at his fingers.

ignoring your protests and squirms, he crumples the paper open and reads the bold, hastily scrawled letters: how to get toji fushiguro in bed.

damn. so you had been responsible for that heater, the staircase, a fake phone call. he always did like them a bit cuckoo-bananas.

toji chuckles darkly, glancing up at you, barely able to suppress a grin. you're flushed, looking like you'd rather disappear into the floor, oddly shy despite the fact that you were so bold, and a minx riding him earlier to hell and back.

"look, i can explain. don't be mad, because i swear —"

toji groans, shifting you slightly in his lap, "mad? doll, 'm hard all over again. how'd you want it this time?"

[urdreamydoodles]

Bat-Villains x Reader

They realize they love you after a nightmare about you dying

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

The Joker

- The Joker had always laughed at the idea of love. It was messy, inconvenient, and far too human for someone as “elevated” as him. So, when the nightmare came—your lifeless body crumpled beneath the rubble of some grim Gotham alley—it caught him off guard. His cackles turned to hollow echoes as he screamed your name, the vibrant color of his world bleeding into dull gray.

- He jolted awake with a gasp, his face covered in a rare sheen of sweat. His usual smirk was absent as his wild eyes darted around the room, landing on your sleeping form beside him. You were alive, breathing softly, your face peaceful in slumber. The sight of you alive was a jolt to his twisted heart.

- For the first time in a long while, he didn’t laugh. He sat there, his thoughts in chaos, a war between his denial and the crushing realization that he couldn’t imagine a world without you. It scared him more than Batman ever could. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the emotions bubbling to the surface.

- “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, his voice shaking. But his hand moved on its own, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. You stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, and he froze, a flicker of vulnerability flashing in his usually unhinged eyes.

- He stayed awake for hours, staring at you, convincing himself that this was just some fleeting weakness. But the image of your death lingered, gnawing at him, turning his denial into reluctant acceptance. “You’ve done it, haven’t you?” he whispered bitterly. “You’ve made the Clown Prince of Crime care.”

- The next morning, his usual theatrics were toned down. He stayed unusually close to you, his hand lingering on yours longer than normal. You raised an eyebrow at his behavior, and he waved it off with a manic laugh, but deep inside, he knew he’d never let you out of his sight again.

- That night, he held you a little tighter than usual, his arms wrapped around you as if to shield you from the world. “You’re mine,” he whispered into the darkness, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “And no one will take you from me. Not even death.”

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Harley’s dreams were usually chaotic, filled with explosions, bright colors, and nonsensical antics. But this one was different. It was dark, quiet, and horrifying. She saw you, broken and bleeding, calling out to her with your last breath. No amount of laughter or jokes could save you.

- She woke with a start, her heart pounding and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Puddin’?!” she gasped instinctively, but then her eyes landed on you. You were there, next to her, your chest rising and falling steadily. Relief washed over her, and she let out a shaky laugh.

- Harley wasn’t one to dwell on emotions—she usually masked them with jokes and a bubbly exterior. But this dream? It shook her to her core. She sat up, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch your face, as if reassuring herself you were real.

- “What’s goin’ on with me?” she whispered to herself. She knew the answer deep down but wasn’t ready to admit it. The thought of losing you had torn her apart in the dream, and the intensity of her feelings scared her.

- For the rest of the night, she stayed awake, her mind racing. She replayed every moment with you, every smile, every laugh, and every time you’d stood by her side. “Guess I’m hooked,” she murmured with a small, bittersweet smile.

- The next day, she was more clingy than usual, following you around and cracking even more jokes than normal. You noticed her odd behavior, but she brushed it off with a wink and a kiss on the cheek. “Just feelin’ extra lovey-dovey today, sugar!”

- That night, as you lay in her arms, she finally whispered the words she’d been too scared to say aloud. “I love ya, ya know? Like… the real kinda love, not the crazy kinda love. Well, maybe a lil’ crazy, but still real.” She kissed your forehead, her heart lighter than it had been in years.

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- Pamela’s dreams were rarely nightmares. But this one? It was a haunting vision of you lying lifeless among her beloved plants, your blood staining the green foliage. The image was so vivid, so horrifying, that it shattered her usual composure.

- She woke with a sharp inhale, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes darted to your side of the bed, relief flooding her as she saw you curled up peacefully. The nightmare lingered, though, its dark tendrils wrapping around her thoughts.

- Ivy wasn’t one to let emotions control her. She prided herself on being logical, detached. But this dream forced her to confront the truth she’d been avoiding. She cared for you—deeply, irrevocably—and the thought of losing you was unbearable.

- She reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the curve of your cheek. Her touch was soft, almost reverent, as if she feared you might disappear if she pressed too hard. “You’ve rooted yourself in my life, haven’t you?” she whispered.

- For hours, she stayed by your side, watching you sleep, her mind racing with plans to ensure your safety. She’d protect you, no matter the cost. “No one will harm you,” she vowed quietly. “Not while I still breathe.”

- The next day, her demeanor was gentler than usual. She handed you a cup of tea, her green eyes soft as they met yours. “Drink this,” she said. “It’ll keep you healthy. And stay close to me today, alright?” Her protective side was in full bloom.

- That night, as you lay in her arms, surrounded by the soft glow of her plants, she finally let herself be vulnerable. “You’re the one thing I can’t afford to lose,” she admitted. “I’ve spent my life fighting for the earth, but you? You’ve become my world.”

Bane

- Bane’s dreams were typically filled with battles and conquests, but this one was different. He saw you, broken and defeated, your life slipping away because he hadn’t been strong enough to protect you. The sight of your lifeless form was a blow worse than any he’d taken in the ring.

- He woke with a start, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon. His eyes immediately sought you out, relief washing over him when he saw you safe and sound, curled up beside him. But the dream lingered, the pain and helplessness gnawing at him.

- Bane wasn’t used to feeling weak, but that nightmare had shaken him. He sat up, his massive frame tense as he stared down at you. “You are my strength,” he murmured, the words foreign on his tongue but no less true.

- For hours, he sat there, replaying the nightmare in his mind. He realized then just how much you meant to him, how deeply you’d carved yourself into his life. “I cannot lose you,” he vowed, his voice low and resolute.

- The next morning, his protective instincts were in overdrive. He insisted on accompanying you everywhere, his large hand resting possessively on your shoulder. When you questioned his sudden behavior, he simply replied, “You are important to me. That is reason enough.”

- That night, as you lay in his arms, he finally let his walls down. “I have fought many battles,�� he said quietly. “But the thought of losing you? That is a battle I cannot win.” His voice was thick with emotion, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see.

- Bane’s love was fierce and unwavering, and from that moment on, he made it his mission to keep you safe. “You are my heart,” he admitted softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I will protect you with every ounce of strength I possess.”

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- Jonathan’s dreams were often macabre reflections of his own fears twisted into nightmarish landscapes. But this time, it wasn’t about him. The nightmare was about you—your lifeless body crumpled in a dark alley, surrounded by shadows, your voice calling his name in desperation before falling silent forever.

- He woke abruptly, his breath shallow and ragged, the echo of your scream still ringing in his ears. For a moment, he sat frozen, his hands trembling slightly. Then his eyes darted to the bed, where you lay peacefully, your chest rising and falling in soft rhythm.

- Jonathan wasn’t one to embrace vulnerability, yet this dream left him shaken. He stared at you, his mind racing with an uncomfortable realization: he cared for you far more than he’d ever allowed himself to admit. Losing you, even in a nightmare, felt like losing a part of himself.

- He leaned closer, his hand hovering over your cheek but not quite touching, as if afraid to disturb the calm you radiated. “You’re more dangerous than fear itself,” he murmured quietly, his voice tinged with a rare warmth. “Because you’ve made me weak.”

- The following day, Jonathan was quieter than usual, his sharp words softened when directed at you. He lingered in your presence, finding excuses to stay close, though he masked his concern with his usual intellectual aloofness.

- That night, as you stirred beside him, Jonathan finally let his guard down. “You don’t realize it, do you?” he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’ve made me care… and that terrifies me.” His fingers brushed against yours, a silent vow to keep you safe.

- From that moment on, he became even more meticulous in his plans, ensuring no one could ever harm you. Jonathan Crane, the master of fear, had found something he feared more than anything: a world without you in it.

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- Harvey’s nightmares were like a coin flip—sometimes they reflected his inner turmoil, other times they felt like cruel twists of fate. This time, it was the latter. He saw you, the one person who made him feel whole, bleeding out in his arms as he screamed for help that never came.

- He jolted awake, his hands clutching the sheets tightly as he gasped for air. His scarred side twitched involuntarily, but his eyes sought you immediately. Relief washed over him as he saw you sleeping soundly beside him, completely unaware of his inner torment.

- Harvey sat up, running a hand down his face. The nightmare had been too vivid, too real. He couldn’t shake the image of your lifeless body, the way your eyes had stared at him, full of trust even as the light faded from them.

- “You’re my anchor,” he whispered, his dual voice cracking slightly. “You make me believe there’s still something good in me.” The thought of losing you wasn’t just painful; it felt like losing the last shred of humanity he had left.

- The next day, Harvey was unusually protective, his coin flipping idly between his fingers as he shadowed your every move. When you teased him about being overly cautious, he brushed it off with a half-smile. “Can’t be too careful,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed his deeper worry.

- That night, as you curled up beside him, Harvey wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You’re the one thing in my life that doesn’t need a coin flip,” he admitted softly. “I’ll protect you, no matter what.”

- From then on, his duality softened slightly when it came to you. Both sides of Harvey Dent—man and monster—agreed on one thing: you were worth everything. And he wouldn’t let anyone take you from him.

Edward Nygma aka. The Riddler

- Edward’s nightmares weren’t random; they were puzzles of his subconscious, riddled with hidden meanings and twisted scenarios. But this time, the riddle was cruelly simple: you were dead, taken from him in a moment of chaos he couldn’t control or predict. The answer to the nightmare was devastatingly clear—he couldn’t solve it.

- He woke in a cold sweat, his mind racing as if trying to piece together clues to prove the dream wasn’t real. When his eyes landed on you, still peacefully asleep beside him, he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding his system.

- For once, Edward was at a loss for words. The nightmare had shaken him in a way few things could. He prided himself on his intellect, his ability to plan for every contingency, yet the thought of losing you felt like an unsolvable equation.

- “You’ve become my greatest mystery,” he murmured, brushing a hand through his hair as he watched you sleep. “How did you manage to make me feel this way?” His voice was tinged with frustration, but beneath it was an undeniable warmth.

- The next day, Edward was more attentive than usual, his riddles and taunts aimed at others rather than you. He stuck close, his sharp eyes scanning for any potential threat, though he masked his concern behind his usual arrogance.

- That night, as you curled up against him, Edward allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. “You’re the only thing in my life that doesn’t need a riddle to explain,” he admitted softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. “And I’ll make sure no one ever takes you from me.”

- From that point on, Edward’s plans always included you at the center, his mind working tirelessly to ensure your safety. For a man obsessed with answers, you had become the only certainty in his life.

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- Oswald’s nightmares were usually filled with power struggles and betrayal, but this one was personal. He saw you, his constant companion and solace, gunned down in a rival’s crossfire. The sight of your blood pooling beneath you was enough to send a chill through even his cold heart.

- He woke with a start, his usual composure shattered as he sat up, his breath heavy. His sharp eyes immediately sought you out, relief flooding him as he saw you beside him, alive and unharmed. But the nightmare had left its mark.

- Oswald prided himself on his control, yet the dream had revealed a vulnerability he couldn’t ignore. He sat in silence, his mind replaying the nightmare over and over, each iteration driving home just how much you meant to him.

- “You’re more valuable than all the riches in Gotham,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff. He reached out, his gloved hand brushing against yours, the gesture unusually tender for a man like him.

- The following day, Oswald’s protective instincts were in overdrive. He doubled your security, barking orders at his henchmen to ensure your safety. When you questioned his sudden behavior, he simply replied, “You’re too important to risk.”

- That night, as you rested your head on his shoulder, Oswald finally let his walls down. “You’ve done the impossible,” he admitted quietly. “You’ve made the Penguin care about something other than power. And I won’t let anyone take that away from me.”

- From then on, his love for you was evident in every action. For a man who thrived in Gotham’s cold, dark underworld, you were his one source of light—and he’d do whatever it took to keep you safe.

[rosenclaws]

Valentines Day Blues || Worst!Logan x Reader

summary: Logan has never really cared about Valentines day until he met you, but despite his best efforts nothing seems to be working out for him.

warnings: angst to fluff, a little spice at the end but no smut, logan's self doubt and slight anger issues, happy ending.

wc: 2.8k

a/n: This is my entry for Loveuary event by @lubdubology and @yxtkiwiyxt! I had pick worst logan my love and add some angst bc I love angst but it all works out for our boy <3 Happy (Early) Valentines day guys!!

Sometimes Logan wonders why he even tries anymore. It's like the world is out to get him specifically. All he wanted was to plan one perfect day. Just one day where he can prove to you, to himself that he's more than a fuck up.

Logan has never really cared about Valentines Day. He's celebrated before. You know gone to dinner, to the movie, had a few hook ups. When he lived at the mansion he remembers the heart decorations and all the red and pink. The kids sharing valentines and watching them experience their first love. But thinking back on his long life there just wasn't anything about the holiday that stood out to him.

For Logan, things just never seemed to work out. Love wasn't his thing. He had lost the ones he loved. He hadn't thought about it, felt it, for years. It never even crossed his mind anymore. Too afraid of losing yet another lover. He went about his life, a shell of the man he used to be. A disgrace to the name X-Men and a monster parents tell their children about at night.

Until Wade showed up and everything changed. He's a hero now, well he's not a villain in the eyes of citizens. He'll take it. He could be free to live again, to make friends, enjoy life. To heal and live in memory of his fallen friends rather than run away from the pain. He doesn't think he'll ever forgive himself, but he can start by being a better man.

It's been so long since Logan felt love that he didn't even recognize it at first. He didn't understand why his heart beat faster, why he felt sweaty, why his stomach twisted and turned by just your mere presence. He thought it was something else.

Maybe you're a mutant and were using your powers on him. Maybe you had heard what he had done and decided that he wasn't worthy of redemption. He avoided you like the plague. Unable to shake whatever you were doing to him no matter how hard he tried. It wasn't until Wade slapped him on the back of the head and spelled it out in big bold letters.

He had a crush.

Logan just scoffed. A crush? That word...It felt so juvenile. A crush is something between two kids who stare at each other from across the classroom. A crush is small and innocent and Logan is far too old and far too worn to be crushing on Wade's friend. But he could only lie to himself for so long. It wasn't a crush. No that wasn't the right word.

He was in love. When he started creeping back into your life it hit him full force. Took him by the neck and shook him until it all clicked. He longed for your attention, to be close to you. To make you laugh, to watch you smile. He wanted to hold you at night, to hear your voice when he drifted off to sleep and to wake up the next morning with you by his side. He was utterly fucked.

It was funny really. Especially to Wade, I mean how clueless could a man be? You would think two hundred years of experience would mean he could pick up on these things. But Logan doesn't notice those things anymore.

He's so in his own head he never even noticed that you were mirroring his feelings. That the mere sight of Logan was enough to make you weak in the knees. That his laugh, as rare as it was to hear, was music to your ears. That you were heartbroken when he started to avoid you, anxiety filling your brain about why the man just couldn't stand to be around you.

Wade treated it as his own rom com. Making popcorn and watching the longing looks shared between the two of you. Except Wade wasn't a patient person and he wasn't trying to watch a slow burn where both of you refuse to talk. So he pushed you two together. Spilling both your secrets right in front of each other and walking away like he didn't just change your lives forever. But it worked. You had to give him that at least. Even if Logan really didn't want to give Wade any credit ever.

Logan remembers that night like it was yesterday. You took his hand, so nervous to look him in the eyes. He locked your fingers together, squeezing your hand softly and tilting your chin to look at him. Colossus passes by and using the man as cover he kisses you. He could hear a faint "Oh come on! What is this Disney Channel?" From Wade but he pays it no mind.

Since that day Logan has vowed to spend every moment being the man you deserve. You tell him that you love him but sometimes it's hard to believe. How could someone like you love a man like him? Your heart was too good for him. Too bright to be with a man who wasn't even sure he had a heart just a year ago.

But nevertheless you're still here and Valentines day is fast approaching. This is his chance to show you how much he loves you. To buy you the perfect gift and plan the perfect date. If he could do this, he could be just a fraction of a man good enough for you.

He wanted to make you breakfast. To dress up nice and proper for once with flowers in his hands. A picnic at the park. To watch the sunset together all wrapped up in blankets. A night time drive that ends in a passionate night.

But life has other plans.

The day starts with a broken alarm clock. Logan groans as he wakes up, reaching out for you only to feel an empty bed. He shoots awake, looking at the clock to see that it was well past breakfast time.

"Fuck!" He hisses as he throws the covers off and scrambles to the kitchen. To his dismay you're already awake and eating. His heart sinks, failure number one.

"Hi honey, how did you sleep?" You ask sweetly as you wrap your arms around his waist, sighing happily as you hug your boyfriend.

"Alright, I meant to wake up earlier than this." He mumbles as he holds you tight. He tries not to show his disappointment as he covers it with a smile. He still has his other plans, the day is just starting.

"That's okay, I'm glad you were able to get some rest." Logan huffs but nods along with you.

He pours himself a cup of coffee. He suddenly realizes to tell you something and pulls you back into him, kissing you fiercely. You squeak in surprise but melt into his embrace.

"What as that for?" You tease as he pulls away. Logan shrugs and kisses you again.

"Happy Valentines Day Sweetheart." He purrs. You giggle as he buries his face in your neck.

"Happy Valentines Day Logan."

"Now, I have the whole day planned so go get ready." His disappointment from earlier fading as he thinks about the rest of the day. "How romantic of you." You kiss his cheek and turn to go back to your bedroom. Logan smirks and gently slaps your ass as you walk away.

"Logan!" You scold him but he just grins wider.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself."

Logan packs the picnic basket as you get ready. He made sure to buy all your favorite things and handmade chocolate covered strawberries last night after you went to bed. Those were romantic right? The clock ticks by faster than he realized and it dawns on him that the flowers he ordered have yet to arrive. His phone buzzes and he growls as he checks it.

Of course.

A text from the florist shop that they can't complete his order despite the fact he ordered these weeks ago. Fuck. Well maybe he can grab something on your way to the park? No he can't buy them right in front of you. Plus what store even has flowers right now. Maybe he can cut a few from the neighbors garden. They won't miss a few roses.

"Logan? Everything okay?" He snaps out it and shoves his phone back in his pocket.

"Just fine sweetheart," His eyes land on you and he lets out a low whistle.

"You trying to kill me or something?" He says with a smirk as he takes in your outfit. Fuck you're perfect.

"This old thing? I just had it laying around." You joke.

You grab onto his belt and pull him into you, his lips capturing you in a hot kiss. His hands slowly slide up your body. You could get lost in this kiss forever.

A loud boom breaks you apart. Your heads whip towards the window and see the sky darken before your very eyes.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Logan growls as he lets go of you. Stalking his way to the window to see rain pouring down outside. There goes the picnic plans. He slams the window shut. Frustration taking over his mind.

"It's supposed to rain all day," You say as you check your phone. You notice Logan's mood turn sour and you start to get worried.

"Of course it is." He scoffs. Logan searches for something in his brain to fix this day. Maybe he can just drive out of the city and you can still go on a picnic or watch the sunset.

"Logan are you okay?" You ask softly. He grunts as his phone buzzes once again in his pocket. Wade's picture flashes up on the screen and it takes everything in Logan to actually answer.

"What."

"Hey so...I might have borrowed your car last night for reasons that are not important to you and well lets just say its going to be out of commission for a couple days k sorry gonna hang up before you process this bye love you!" Wade speaks fast and hangs up faster.

No breakfast, no flowers, no car, no park, no sunset. Just fucking great. He can't even do one fucking nice thing for you. Logan crushes his phone in his hands without even thinking. He's done, he just. He doesn't get it. Why can't he just do one nice thing for you?

"Logan!" You hurry over and try to comfort him but he just holds his hand up.

"What's wrong?" He just sighs, stands up and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"There are no plans anymore. I'm sorry." He says lowly. Disappointment seeping into his tone.

"I had everything planned, I had the perfect day. A day where I can just... you know what? Forget it. I don't even know why you bother with me anymore." He mumbles.

He ignores the calls of his name as he walks out the door and leaves. The rain soaks him right to his metal bones. He just sits on the grass. Letting the rain hit him. Dramatic? Maybe but he's defeated. Just. Purely defeated.

His inner thoughts swarm with attacks, the happiness he had hoped to feel was draining. Being replaced with self doubt that can only scream that he's not worthy of you, not worth the love.

"Logan you get your ass back inside right now!" Your voice cuts through the harsh patter of the rain. He turns to see you marching forward, your pretty clothes all ruined now as you walk over to him.

"Go back inside, you're going to get sick." Logan says with concern but you don't care.

"No, not until you talk to me." You say stubbornly. He huffs and takes off the jacket he had put on earlier to hold it above your head. Rain pelts his back but its stopped hitting you.

"It's nothing."

"Stop that! Stop shutting me out Logan. Look I know this is hard, that sometimes you get wrapped up in your own head. But that's why I'm here." You grab his face, making sure he can't get away from you. You don't know how many times you need to drive this into his thick skull but you will if that's what it takes.

"A bother? Do you really think I'm just putting up with you? I fucking love you, you idiot! I don't care about if the date is perfect or if you get me flowers or chocolate. I care about you."

"Everything got fucked up today sweetheart. Literally everything I wanted was ruined. Don't you think that's a sign? That the universe is trying to fucking tell me something?" You scoff and shake your head.

"Tell you what? Huh? What could the universe possibly tell you that I can't. I'm telling you right now. That you are the love of me life. I love our lazy mornings, the soft kisses, the movie nights, the way you make my day brighter and my stomach flutter. Fuck the universe. Logan, I'm right here." Logan does so much for you that he doesn't even notice.

He loves you and his love is more than enough. It bleeds into everything he does. The way he looks at you, how he talks to you, the pure love and adoration in his eyes.

"I wanted today to be perfect for you. I wanted to show you that I'm worthy of every part of you." He confesses.

You pull him in for a kiss. Not caring if he drops the jacket that was once covering you. You let the rain fall as your lips move passionately with each other. Logan groans as he wraps his arms around you. Your hands reach up to grab at his wet hair, pushing it back and running your fingers through it. His hands grip your waist tightly, pulling you impossibly close to him. Reluctantly you pull apart, needing to catch your breath. He's got this dopey smile, his eyes softening as you rest your hands on his chest.

"You idiot, you're already are worth that and more." You whisper. Thunder rolls through the sky and you tug on Logan's hand.

"Come on, let's go back inside. I don't need to find out if your metal skeleton attracts lightning." He chuckles but follows you back inside. After drying off and changing back into your pajamas he finds you trying to push the couch back.

"What are you doing?" He asks as he walks over and picks it up with ease.

"Show off." You mumble. You grab a blanket it and lay it on the floor.

"You wanted a picnic, so let's have one." Placing a couple pillows on the floor, you and Logan sit in your living room with the food he had packed earlier.

The sound of the rain hitting the windows was oddly peaceful. Your heart warmed at the sight of everything Logan had packed. He really put thought and care into this. You were practically in his lap at this point. His hands wanting to be on you at all times.

"Here," You lift a chocolate strawberry to his mouth and he takes a bite.

"Sweet, not as sweet as you though." He says with a cheeky smirk.

"Cheesy," You roll your eyes playfully. He chuckles, his thumb rubbing the side of your mouth where some chocolate was. His face softens, eyes brimming with an emotion you can't read as he stares at you.

"Hey, I love you."

You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You're everything. I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life. Logan feels it all, you're it for him. But he doesn't know how to say it quite yet, so he settles for I love you and hopes you understand how much he truly means it.

"I love you too Logan, more than anything." He presses a kiss to your cheek and peppers them down to your jaw. His teeth grazing your pulse point.

"There's still one more thing I had planned that we can do right here." Logan purrs. You giggle as he flips the two of you so that you're on your back, your head on a pillow.

"Oh really?" You tease as you slip your hands up his shirt.

"Happy Valentines day Logan." You hum as he nibbles on your neck.

It's not the day he had expected to have, but it's turned into one he'll never forget. Maybe this holiday isn't so bad. He smirks as he sits back on his knees, still in slight disbelief that you're his. You know what? The universe can suck it. Because he's happy and for once he won't let anything get in his way.

"Happy Valentines day sweetheart."

Here's to many, many more.

[valentine-cafe]

stuck thinking about amab reader edging 209 rishen 😞💔💔💔

his needy lil cries 💔💔💔

˖⁺. ﹙ bttm mad scientist hybrid  x top male reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . say please !! 🍒 :  mad scientist ˖ moth-spider-mantis hybrid ˖ science ceo ˖ villain character﹙ verse 209 rishen. ﹚

your typically smooth, confident boyfriend turns into a whiney slut once he's under you 

“l-leett me cuumm -”

you should be proud of yourself for getting him to this state. spread out on his deep brown desk. papers scattered across the floor and illuminated by the faint crimson lights that circle around the edges of his office. they accentuate his face twisted in need al the more.

brows creased at the centre, that tremble on his lips — oh you simply have to pepper your kisses all over his face. while your hips ease another slow, hard thrust into the bundle that sends him straight to zenith. yet wailing in the abhorration.

a proud man, is what your beloved is. a scientist with a cocky head and sly tongue. quite the achievement to have that same skillful muscle now poked from between his lips smeared in his own scarlet lipstick.

“wanna cum darling? cry some more.” your chuckle eases into a hushed groan at the thrum of his tight walls around your cock. for all you know, he is trying to milk you dry.

with his sounds and the way his ass flutters, clenches and pulses around you? well, you wouldn’t think it too far fetched.

“p-please - please, por favor - I-I’m sorry, I’ll try harder - ah-!”

it is not much, really. all it took was a steady rock of your hips. a rhythm that they fall back into that has his eyes fluttering like that of a butterfly’s rapid wings. he certainly does seem to be flying straight into the clouds with the way his head tosses back into the desk and his hips cradle up into yours.

while his moans are a delight to your ears, your palm itches. sated only when it hooks around his throat and your thumb presses into his pulse. feels the sweet thrum of his racing heart and attempt to time your thrusts with it. chase the pace until he tightens. tenses. cries.

“y-yes - yes yes - yes please fuck pl—nhooo nononono-”

the air he sucks in burns his lungs. much like the tears that pour from his pitiful maroon eyes when you slam all the way in and halt once more. the only thing better than stealing his release from him - is beholding his reaction when your own fills him to the brim.

again.

“darllinngg,” you slur. the lazy grin on your lips makes his breathes heavier. surely if he was in the right state of mind, he would have snapped at you ten times and over. all that wells in its place are his hushed breaths linked with sniffles and cries. a delight for your arousal. “oh. . . aww baby, is it too much? yeah?”

your palm spreads to deliver a pointed spank to his ass. a clap through the office that is certainly heard from the assistants busy at work just outside his door. not that you care. his cries alone are signal enough that the charming, cunning ceo of valence is splayed out on his own desk and whining for his lover. whining for you.

“I. . . I-I fuck. . . hhinng h-hate you.”

“shame.”

you only click your tongue and bring a thumb to his tip. make him hate you more with the slow swirls and languid rub against his slit that sends shivers down his spine. has his head tilting back with lips parted, fangs on display and noises oh. so needy.

since he enjoys complaining so much, you’ll withdraw your cock from his walls. give him another spank when he tries to plead for you to fill him up. and while you would love to simply flip him onto his tummy and bend him over the desk — you are simply too caught up in the sinful leak of your own cum that drips out of him.

like a mockery to his quivering dick that weeps for release.

perfect for your plan. two skillful fingers collect the slick and trace back to his fluttery hole. since he has so many complaints, perhaps your fingers will be of better use to him?

hardly, the poor thing will find himself whining and crying over his desk regardless. yet all you’ll do is squeeze around his throat and piston your hand until he’s on the brink - then swap out once more.

[herstoryheaven]

Descendants Harry Hook x Reader: The Pirate's Enchanted Locket

Prompt: Y/n has an ancient locket that transports her to The Isle of the Lost. Captured by Harry Hook, he initially suspects her of being a spy. As he grows fascinated by her, he defends her against a rival gang’s attack. In a moment of intense emotion, Harry confesses his feelings.

Reader: Female

Word count: 3584

Average reading time: 13 min

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: This story contains themes involving emotional distress, fear, and harassment. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with care.

The full moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the restless sea. Y/N stood at the edge of a rocky cliff, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Clutched in her hand was an ancient locket, a mysterious inheritance from her mother that promised to bring you what your heart desires the most. The locket felt warm in her palm, as if it had a life of its own, pulsating with a gentle rhythm. As she carefully opened the locket, wisps of magic light surrounded her, pulling her through time and space.

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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When the light faded, Y/N found herself on the deck of a pirate ship, the grimy structure silhouetted against the dark waters of the Isle of the Lost. The smell of saltwater and smog filled the air, and the sound of creaking wood and flapping sails was almost deafening. Disoriented, she stumbled across the deck, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The ship was bustling with activity, rough looking pirates shouted orders and heaved ropes, their faces shadowed by the dim lantern light.

Harry Hook, Uma’s fierce first mate, appeared, his sharp eyes immediately spotting her. He was a tall figure, his dark hair hiding underneath a black pirate hat, a silver hook gleaming dangerously in place of his left hand.

“What do we have here?” Harry’s voice was a low, dangerous growl. His accent was thick, his tone dripping with suspicion. “Someone trying hide, or perhaps a thief?”

Y/N’s heart raced. She had heard the stories of these pirates, the children of villains of old tales, but never imagined she would meet them. “I’m not here to steal anything. I was just—”

“Save your breath, Lass,” Harry interrupted, his voice cold and commanding. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “We don’t take kindly to intruders. Especially ones who appear out of thin air.”

Before Y/N could protest further, Harry took her arm with surprising strength and dragged her below deck. The narrow, dark passageways twisted and turned, lit only by the occasional flickering torch. Other pirates stared as they passed, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright hostility.

They reached a small, dark cell at the far end of the ship. Harry shoved her inside, and the heavy clang of the iron door as it shut behind her resonated with finality. The cell was cold and damp, the air thick with the smell of rust. Y/N sank to the floor, her mind racing with confusion and fear.

“What have I gotten myself into?” she whispered, clutching the locket tightly. She could still feel its warmth, a faint reassurance in the darkness. 

Time passed slowly in the cell. The sounds of the ship and the ocean were muffled, creating a deafening silence. Y/N's thoughts were a whirlwind of worry and regret. She thought of her grandmother’s stories, the tales of magic and adventure that now seemed all too real.

Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, the door creaked open. A confident pirate girl, with turquoise braids and a mischievous glint in her eyes, entered. It was Uma, the sea witch’s daughter and the ship’s captain.

“Well, well,” Uma said, her voice smooth and taunting. “What do we have here? A little runaway, or maybe something more?”

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Uma’s. Gathering her courage, she replied, “I’m not a runaway. I was brought here by magic. This locket” she held it up, its faint glow illuminating the small cell, “it brought me here.”

Uma’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the locket. She leaned closer, inspecting it with interest. “That’s no ordinary locket.” she murmured. “Where did you get this?”

“My mother.” Y/N answered truthfully. “She said it would bring me what my heart desires the most.”

Uma’s expression shifted, a calculating look in her eyes. “And what does your heart desire, little one?”

Y/N hesitated. “Adventure,” she said finally. “And maybe something more.”

Uma laughed, a sound both sweet yet disturbing. “You might just get what you wish for,” she said. “But remember, magic always comes with a price.”

With that, Uma left, leaving Y/N alone in the dim cell but with nothing but her thoughts and a glimmer of hope. She clutched the locket tighter, its warmth still present.

-----

Days passed in the cell, at first Harry occasionally came to check on their prisoner by Uma’s order. But soon Harry’s visits became more frequent, yet the fear of her situation never quite faded. The walls, slick with dampness and grime, seemed to press in on Y/N, their oppressive presence a constant reminder of her imprisonment. Yet, each day, as Harry’s visits became more regular, a subtle shift began to take place.

Harry’s demeanor, once arrogant and indifferent, softened. His initial curiosity about Y/N’s resilience grew into genuine interest. He began to linger longer during their conversations, and the tone of his voice, previously sharp and commanding, carried an undertone of care. There was a tension in the air, an unspoken connection that neither of them acknowledged directly but both felt deeply.

One evening, as the cell was bathed in the dim, flickering light of a single bulb, Y/N’s curiosity overcame her usual caution. She looked up from her seated position against the wall, her face illuminated by the pale light, and asked, “Why do you keep coming here?”

Harry leaned against the bars, his usual arrogance tempered by a weariness that spoke of long, restless days. His expression was a blend of annoyance and hesitant interest, a reflection of the internal struggle he faced. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, Lass. You’ve got spirit.”

Y/N’s eyes met his with a mixture of resistance and fatigue. “I don’t cower.” she said, her voice carrying a steely edge. “I just don’t see the point in making things worse.”

Harry’s gaze softened slightly, revealing a glimpse of the conflict within him. He crossed his arms, his posture less rigid than usual. “You’ve got a point. It’s not every day someone ends up on Uma’s ship with nothing but a locket.”

The mention of the locket brought a flicker of emotion to Y/N’s eyes. It was a small, delicate piece of jewelry, a token from a life that seemed impossibly distant now. “The locket belonged to my mother.” she said quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “It’s all I have left of her.”

Harry’s expression changed as he looked at her. The hardened exterior he maintained was marred by a rare hint of empathy. He looked at the locket as if seeing it for the first time, acknowledging the significance it held for Y/N. “She must’ve meant a lot to you.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. “She did. And it’s more than just a memory. It’s a reminder that there was a time before all this, a time when things were different.”

For a moment, the cell fell into a thoughtful silence. Harry seemed to wrestle with his own thoughts, the weight of Y/N’s words evident in the furrow of his brow. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. “You know, Lass, you’re not what I expected. There’s something about you, something that makes me think maybe, just maybe, there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

Y/N’s gaze lifted to meet his, her eyes searching his for any sign of him lying. “And what does that mean for me?”

Harry’s expression was unreadable, a mask of guarded contemplation. “It means,” he said slowly, “that you’re not entirely alone in this. And maybe, just maybe, there’s more to be learned from each other than either of us thought.”

As the silence stretched between them, the tension in the cell seemed to ease, if only slightly. Harry moved closer to the bars, his fingers gripping the cold metal as he leaned in, his face inches from Y/N’s. “Why do you trust me enough to talk about her?” he asked, his voice a hushed murmur.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel the warmth of his breath, the intensity of his gaze. “I don’t know if I trust you,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “But I think you’re different from most. There’s something in you that’s... kind.”

Harry’s eyes darkened, a mixture of frustration and longing flickering in their depths. “Kindness is a dangerous thing around here.” he warned, his voice barely audible. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re bringing out a part of me I thought I’d lost.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the cell seemed to disappear. The tension between them crackled with unspoken words and suppressed emotions. Harry’s hand reached through the bars, his fingers brushing against Y/N’s cheek, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Harry...” Y/N’s voice was a breathless whisper, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Y/N,” he replied, his voice heavy with an emotion he couldn’t name. “Be careful. This... whatever this is between us... it’s dangerous.”

Y/N’s hand covered his, their fingers entwining through the cold metal bars. “I know.” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “But I’m willing to take the risk if you are.”

Harry’s eyes softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re something else, Lass. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I promise you this, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

-----

The nights grew colder, and Harry’s visits became a small comfort. However, one fateful night, the tranquility shattered as the ship was attacked by a rival gang of villains. The sounds of battle swords clashing, men shouting filled the air, growing louder as the intruders neared.

Y/N's heart pounded as the chaos drew closer, each step of the invaders echoing her rising dread. The cold metal of her cell door creaked open violently, the sound slicing through the din like a knife. A rough hand yanked her from her confinement, dragging her into the harsh light of the battle-torn deck.

"Look what we have here," one of the attackers sneered, his breath hot and foul against her ear. He gripped her waist with brutal force, his fingers digging into her skin. "A pretty little thing, aren’t you?"

Terror surged through her veins as she struggled against his iron grip. Another attacker, his eyes gleaming with malice, leaned in close, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke.

"Why don’t you give us a kiss, darling?" he taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. Y/N turned her head away, revulsion twisting her stomach.

“Get away from me!” she cried, her voice trembling with fear. She twisted in their grasp, desperate to escape their leering faces and grasping hands.

"Help! Someone, please!" Y/N’s voice trembled, barely audible over the surrounding tumult. Her pleas seemed swallowed by the night, lost in the brutal frenzy.

Her captors laughed at her desperation, their taunts ringing in her ears. “Scream all you want, girl. No one’s coming for you.”

But they were wrong.

Harry’s blood boiled when he saw the attackers’ rough treatment of Y/N. With a roar that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, he burst onto the deck, his sword gleaming with deadly intent. His eyes blazed with fury, locked onto Y/N even as he swung his weapon with lethal precision.

"Back off, you scurvy dogs!" Harry's voice was a thunderclap of rage. "Touch her again, and I’ll have you all walk the plank!"

The attackers hesitated, the ferocity of Harry’s assault breaking their resolve. They had underestimated him, and now they were paying the price. One by one, they began to retreat, their faces pale with fear as Harry cut a swath through their ranks, his determination an unmistakable force.

The attacker holding Y/N released her, shoving her roughly to the ground. She scrambled back, her heart racing, watching as Harry fought like a man possessed. Each swing of his sword was a vow to protect her, his movements a blur of deadly grace.

One of the attackers, emboldened by desperation, lunged at Harry with a dagger. Harry parried the blow effortlessly, his sword flashing in the dim light as he disarmed and incapacitated the man with brutal efficiency.

When the last of the attackers had fled into the night, Harry's attention turned to Y/N. She stood trembling, her face pale, tears carving silent paths down her cheeks. Her eyes met his, wide and haunted, a mix of fear and relief swirling in their depths.

Harry approached her slowly, his expression softening, the pirate's fury melting into concern. Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders, his touch a grounding anchor against the storm of her emotions.

“It’s over now,” Harry said softly, his voice a soothing balm against her raw nerves. “You’re safe.”

Y/N collapsed against him, her body wracked with sobs. Harry held her tightly, his embrace a shield against the horrors of tonight. For a moment, the world was reduced to the two of them, the warmth of his presence pushing back the cold grip of fear.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. “I was so scared…”

“I know,” Harry murmured, his hand stroking her hair gently. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not ever again.”

-----

His arms wrapped around her, carefully lifting her in his arms. Y/N’s heart fluttered as she felt his warmth and strength surrounding her. She buried her face in his neck, her tears flowing freely. The world outside seemed to fade as Harry carried her through the remaining chaos, his movements both strong and tender.

“Harry…” Y/N’s voice was muffled against his skin. “They—they were touching me… I was so scared.”

Harry’s breath hitched at her words. He tightened his embrace, his heart aching at the thought of her suffering. He carried her to his quarters, the soft glow of lanterns casting a warm light around the room. Gently, he set her down on the bed and knelt beside her, his eyes full of concern.

“No one will ever touch you like that again,” Harry vowed, his voice firm yet gentle. “I swear it on my life.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and increasing affection. “Thank you for protecting me, Harry. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Harry’s gaze softened. He brushed a stray tear from her cheek, his touch light and comforting. “You don’t need to worry about that. You’re mine to protect, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

The room was filled with an intense, charged silence. Harry’s hand gently cupped Y/N’s cheek as he leaned in closer. His gaze was locked on hers, his eyes burning with a mixture of fierce protectiveness and deep affection. 

Slowly, he pulled her closer, his hook wrapping around her waist in a tender embrace. With a gentle yet firm grip, he tilted her chin up with his other hand. The proximity between them was electric, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as Harry’s lips hovered near hers.

Without breaking eye contact, Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle at first, a soft, reassuring touch that spoke of his promises and his unspoken feelings. As the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, filled with the urgency of their emotions and the relief of their survival.

Y/N’s hands found their way to Harry’s chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. She clung to him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring herself in the moment.

When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling in the warm, intimate space, Harry’s eyes were filled with a mixture of relief and something deeper, something that Y/N recognized as love.

“I’m yours.” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. “I want to stay here with you. I want to be where I belong.”

Harry’s eyes shone with a mixture of pride and tenderness. “And I’m yours, Lass. I’d let the world flood if it means knowing you are safe.”

Y/N felt a profound sense of safety wash over her. She reached out, her fingers tracing the lines of Harry’s face, committing every detail to memory. The flickering lantern light played off his features, casting shadows that danced and flickered with a life of their own. 

“I never knew I could feel this way,” she admitted, her voice soft and filled with wonder. “Like I’m whole when I’m with you.”

Harry’s expression softened even further, and he took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to her palm. “You complete me, Y/N. You’re my strength and my reason. I’d do anything to see you smile again.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, but this time they were tears of joy and overwhelming emotion. “You already have,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “You saved me, Harry. In more ways than one.”

Harry’s eyes glittered with unshed tears of his own as he pulled her into another embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively. They sat there for a long moment, holding each other, finding comfort and strength in their shared connection.

Finally, Harry pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a serious expression. “We’ll face whatever comes next together. You and me. No one can stand against us.”

Y/N nodded, a sense of determination filling her. “Together.” she agreed, her voice steady and confident. “Always.”

They stayed close, the warmth of their bodies mingling as they found comfort in each other's presence. Outside, the world continued its relentless march, but inside Harry’s quarters, time seemed to stand still, allowing them a precious moment of peace and love.

Harry brushed his lips against her forehead, a gentle promise of his unwavering commitment. “Rest now, Lass. You’re safe with me.”

With a sigh of contentment, Y/N closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax fully for the first time in what felt like forever.

-----

With the dawn of a new day, Y/N knew she had to make a choice. The locket’s magic had brought her here, but if she wanted to truly stay with Harry, she had to break the bond that tethered her to her world. Without hesitation, she took her mothers locket no matter how much it meant to her and broke it, the magic dissolving into the morning light.

Harry watched her with a mixture of pride and deep affection. As the last piece of the locket crumbled, he pulled her into a close embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively.

“You’ve chosen to stay,” he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude. “And I’ll be here, always.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a profound sense of belonging.

He took a deep breath, the weight of his words heavy with promise. “I want more for you than just this Isle of the Lost. You deserve a life full of beauty and opportunity, not one mired in darkness and danger. I’ll get us out of here. We’ll find our way to Auradon, and I’ll give you the life you’ve always dreamed of.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart swelling with emotion. “Harry, I don’t care where we go or what we do, as long as I’m with you. You’re my home.”

Harry’s gaze softened. “Then we’ll make a new home together. I promise you, Lass, I’ll fight every step of the way to give you the life you deserve.”

As they were completely lost in each other's embrace, the door to Harry’s quarters creaked open. Uma, the formidable pirate queen and Harry’s captain, stepped inside. Her eyes flared with curiosity and a hint of amusement as she took in the scene before her.

“Well, well, well,” Uma drawled, her voice filled with her usual commanding presence. “Seems like you two have been busy. Thought I’d check in on my first mate and supposed to be prisoner.”

Harry’s posture stiffened, but he quickly masked his surprise with a smirk. “Just taking care of things, Uma.”

Uma’s gaze softened slightly as she looked at Y/N. “You’ve caused quite a stir, girl. This place is no vacation. But if Harry’s vouching for you, you must be something special.”

Y/N, feeling a bit awkward under Uma’s scrutiny, managed a small smile. “I’m just trying to find my way.”

Uma nodded, her expression becoming more serious. “Well, if you’re sticking around, you’d better be prepared. Life here isn’t exactly gentle.”

“I’ve learned that the hard way,” Y/N admitted.

Uma’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Good. Because you’ll need all the strength you can get. But if you’re with Harry, that’s a good start. He’s not one to take chances with those he cares about.”

Y/N glanced at Harry, who looked back at her with a mixture of pride and affection. Uma’s approval meant something—especially if it meant a smoother journey ahead.

“Well, since you’re both set on staying,” Uma continued, her tone softer, “let’s make sure you’re prepared. Harry, we need to talk about our next move. And you, Y/N, might as well come along. If you’re with Harry, you’ll be part of the crew. It’s best to know what you’re getting into.”

With Uma’s words hanging in the air, Y/N felt a newfound sense of determination. As Harry’s hand slipped into hers, she knew they were on the brink of a new chapter, one that promised adventure, challenges, and a future built together.

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[elfqueen006]

I'm not that far into Season 2 of A Villain's Twisted Heart, I'm basically at the beginning. But I had a random thought. If the Unraveler made himself Peter Pan, would that mean a hypothetical Wendy and Tinkerbell was Hook's love interest beforehand?

Personally, I've always thought Hook and Tinkerbell have had a little something even in past iterations (lowkey give enemies to rivals to lovers) so it'd be fitting if Tinkerbell were Hook's fairy friend in the "original story".

Could possibly open a window to a jealous Tink x Hook x Reader/MC. Or a Tink!Reader I guess. I dunno it just sounds fun.

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 1 MATCH 9

Hook propaganda:

“I can go on a rant about this guy that'll make me look like Charlie in that one red string board meme image but I'll try to keep it brief- I wasn't sure about this guy at first but by the end of the novel he won me over completely. Mf has a lot of depth to him that a lot of other Genius INC characters don't have. He's a pirate that has a big heart for his crew and eventually for the protag as well. While he's smug and cocky and confident he has body image issues due to his disability bc his past girlfriend left him over it, but you can help him see that his disability isn't a bad or ugly thing and that he isn't less of a person because of it. He likes mind games and teasing but damn if this guy doesn't fall hard for the protag as soon as they show they genuinely care about him. He tries to play it off like they're foolish for caring about him or anyone but he always tries to jumps to protags aid when something bad happens to protect them. He also tries to coax protag out of their shell a little and get them to loosen up and have fun in life and gets happy when they fo wanna tag along with his ideas. His ending is super sweet too, he chooses to stay with the protag in their world instead of going back to his oen and becomes a photographer after learning about more about the protag's world.”

Teo propaganda:

No Teo propaganda :(

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober day 9

@flufftober

Prompt: "Don't do that!" / "But..."

Pairing: Yelena Belova x gn!reader

Warnings/Tags: FLUFF, Yelena being annoying (but we love her), confessions, kisses

Summary: You decide tonight's the night you're going to make your move. But Yelena beats you to it.

Word count: 1k

I hope you enjoy! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated 💜 Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Yelena was too close to you. You could feel her incessant blowing on the nape of your neck as you lined up your rifle, trying to distract you.

"Don't do that." You hiss at her, trying to line up the shot.

"But..." She pouts, throwing you a perfectly adorable puppy dog look. "I like to annoy you."

"No," You correct her with a huff, taking aim. "You like to win."

There's three short pops, and three mechanical ducks disappear from view. Blaring music sounds alongside flashing lights and you squint your eyes. The sound of a deep, dramatic narrator yelling "Winner!" cuts through the music and you shrug at Yelena nonchalantly, who's giving you a stormy look with her arms crossed.

"Pick your damn teddy bear." You say smirking over at her. It's now her turn to huff with faux-annoyance as she scans the prizes. The problem with two assassin's going to the fairground is that everything at the fairground is a competition. Yelena had won you a teddy bear and bet you couldn't win one for her. Now that you'd proved her wrong, very smugly you might add, she picked the the teddy that had matched yours; both of you now proud owners of a matching teddy bear pair.

You smile at her choice, heart fluttering. She always had that playful demeanour about her but it was infinitely better when she wasn't using it to wind up villains or you during training. It was nice seeing her in a happier, more relaxed setting.

You take your bear and press its nose against the nose of her bear, your smile twisting into a teasing smirk.

"Look, Lena, they're kissing," You make gaudy, theatrical kissing noises and she laughs brightly, nudging your shoulder with hers. Her laugh makes you grin wider, your heart beating rapidly with her proximity. You're not really paying attention to what she's saying when she points in the direction of yet another fairground game that you will both excel at; but one you'd let her win just to see that smug smirk of pride on her face that you love so much.

Her perfume mingles with the sickly sweet scent of popcorn and cotton candy as she takes your hand and drags you towards a hook-a-duck. The world slows. The music and laughter of the fair sounds like it's beating it's way through cotton wool - the only thing you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears drumming to a beat that you can barely keep up with. She tosses her head around to beam at you excitedly, her hair swishing behind her and you melt all over again.

Tonight, you reminded yourself. Tonight I have to tell her.

Minutes turn to hours and the fairground is closing.

You still haven't confessed - yet. Too caught up in the sweet moments and falling on your ass in the fun house. Now, you had no choice. Coincidentally, Yelena wanted her last ride to be the Ferris wheel and you thanked the stars above you she had. It was a lot more romantic than asking her to be your girlfriend at the hook-a-duck stand. Or the Haunted House. Or the Hall of Mirrors... and the bumper cars.

You gripped at the bar nervously, palms so sweaty you thought you'd slip out of the car.

"Oh ho ho," Yelena teased, settling besides you, holding her bear tightly in her lap like you had. "No need to be scared."

She pats your hand with hers and leaves it there, entirely mistaking your nerves for a fear of heights. Unknowingly making you fluster more at her affectionate reassurance.

The climb to the top of the Ferris Wheel is agonisingly slow. Yelena points at the crowds beneath you, babbling at all of the different things she's noticing like Eye-Spy on steriods. You manage to shakily ask what her favourite part of the night was, assuming it would be when you fell over on the Funhouse and she'd laughed so hard she joined you on the floor. But you were surprised by her answer.

"It hasn't happened yet," She responds with a soft smile. Her eyes glimmer in the moonlight but you can't quite read her expression. The movement of the wheel draws to an uncomfortably unsteady halt and there's silence between you for a few moments.

You're both staring at eachother and you both go to speak at once.

"You go first."

"No, you."

Another beat of silence. You open your mouth to speak but Yelena sighs dramatically.

"Fine." Her cheeks are tinged pink and she can't quite look you in the eyes. " Would you... like..."

She clears her throat and you're gripping the safety bar like a vice.

"Would you like to officially be my... partner." She rushes out, rubbing her nose anxiously. She's still not looking at you, which may be for the best, because you're gaping at her.

She beat you. She beat you to a confession.

"Partner like on missions or-" You raise an eyebrow, trying to quell the breathlessness in your lungs. You don't want to get your hopes up. Yelena looks at you like you're insane.

"No like dating." She huffs, then her eyes widen in horror. "Oh. Did I misread -"

"No you haven't!" You practically yell at her, face flushing. This was going terribly. "I just wanted to make sure. You, erm, beat me to it. I was going to ask you the same thing."

Yelena sighs with relief. "Oh, thank God. That would have been awkward."

You chuckle and smile so hard at her your face hurts. "You said officially... did you think we were already dating?"

Yelena looks sheepish, but smiles over at you. "We...weren't?"

You shake your head in disbelief, leaning over slightly to give her a gentle peck on the lips. "You are something else, Lena."

She flushes, her body relaxing as she leans her head onto your shoulder, overlooking the fairground. "I know."

By the time you're both exiting the Ferris Wheel car, you're holding hands; making sure your teddies are doing the same too.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Let Me Take Care of You (18+)

requested by @transparentgayprotector: Dead serious, soulmate au, post battle hook up but sweet

-----

It was always a complete joy to Damian when he got watch his soulmate fight. He understood now that strength was not the ends all and be all of life but he still preened openly at having such a powerful and regal life partner.

Today Damian had the absolute joy of backing his lover up while he fought one of his rogues. Well, technically there were a few of the other bats here but he was clearly the most helpful. They were taking care of any summons the villain attempted to throw at them so that Danny could focus on the main fight. Damian might have resented that but he knew perfectly well how strong Danny was.

It had been a hard fight for all involved at first, until the fool of a rogue realized how completely outclassed they were an how little good their pathetic mobs were actually doing. They had dropped all their summons to focus on Danny and Damian had been able to sit back and enjoy the show of power and force. He wished he had brought some snacks to enjoy the show, perhaps that would keep him from getting so hot under the collar.

Damian could have purred when Danny sent the villain twice his size running. "Welcome back Phantom," Damian greeted, reaching up for Danny as he drifted down to them. "Are you injured?"

"No, don't worry I'm fine," Danny said, resting his hands in Damian's, so pale compared to his own, like holding snow.

"Are you sure? You know I'd feel much better if you let me check," Damian said, pulling Danny down closer to him.

"What? No really I'm okay-" Danny started before Damian yanked him close.

"Please Beloved, take me home," Damian purred in Danny's ear, his voice soft and sultry.

"Oh- Oh, ya of course," Danny said, blushing bright green, it made his star-like freckles stand out all the more on his cheeks. It was adorable, how something so powerful could be so precious Damian would never understand.

He glanced around to make sure there wasn't to much damage as he touched down on the ground and wrapped his arms around Damian's waist. "Thank you all so much for your help, I owe you one!" He said, his voice pitching up just a little when Damian wrapped his arms around Danny's shoulders and nuzzled against his throat.

"Ya, ya you're welcome! Now take him home before he jumps you in front of all of us," Jason teased them, Damian could only grin to himself about how correct Todd was.

"Right, Well, thanks again," Danny said sounding Very flustered before he ripped open a portal and pulled Damian through with him.

Damian was very pleased when they landed directly on the bed, his love knew him so well! Damian got comfortable straddling Danny's waist and kissed him slow and passionate. Damian hummed when Danny cupped his face and kissed back.

Damian saw a bright flash through his eyelids and when he opened his eyes he could see Danny's living skin, warmer and less freckled, his now blue eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched together in adorable concentration as he focused on the kiss. It made Damian's heart swell and the branching scars of Danny's electrification tingle in his chest and down his arm.

Damian broke the kiss and leaned back, unbuttoning Danny's blue shirt, he leaned down and kissed the scar on his chest, from Damian's own death. The lightning scars had long since faded on Danny's living skin but they lived forever on Damian's, the scar on Damian's chest had been overwritten when he was resurrected, but it lived forever on Danny's.

"I love you," Damian murmured against Danny's twisted skin, vulnerable and true.

"I love you too," Danny replied, running his fingers through Damian's hair. He had none of the trouble Damian did when it came to giving and receiving love. Early on in their relationship Damian had almost been jealous of how easily Danny got along with his family, how quickly he let them in and how easily they loved him. He was long since over that now though, he was just grateful that Danny was fated to be his.

Damian made a soft sound of acknowledgment and moved to the edge of the bed to kick off the boots he was still wearing. While he did Danny shrugged off his button down and went to undo his own shoes. Damian tutted and pushed him back down, deft hands undoing the laces of Danny's shoes and pulling them off himself, Danny's socks were too large and came off along with them.

Damian's deft and knife callused fingers curled around the back of Danny's heel, pressing a kiss to his ankle. Danny's breath hitched slightly in his throat, Damian knew that Danny was a King, nearly a god, and how uncomfortable he was with the roll. Danny did not want to be worshiped, at least not in that way, in bed was a different story.

He kissed up Danny's leg, his shin, above his knee, his thigh, then his stomach just above the waist of his jeans. He undid Danny's pants and pushed them down slowly, nuzzling against his hip fondly. Danny watched him, wide eyed and flushed, letting Damian have his way and Oh how Damian loved having his way with such a powerful man.

He chuckled breathlessly when Danny's dick practically jumped free of his underwear once they were pushed down. Danny let out a soft whimper, an eager little sound he simply couldn't hold back. Adorable~

Damian nuzzled the underside of Danny's dick making him gasp and grab the sheets, his other hand flying to Damian's hair. He didn't pull or push, just held on and let Damian do as he pleased, so Damian continued, secure in the knowledge that if he wanted to Danny absolutely could stop him.

Damian let Danny's member slip between his lips, soft and warm as it nudged against the back of his pallet. He hummed contentedly as he drew a moan from his lover. He closed his lips around the engorged flesh and started sucking, his mouth watering as he bobbed his head, his saliva dripping down along the length he couldn't quite fit in his mouth.

He pulled back, letting Danny's dick fall from his mouth with a small pop that made Danny's breath stutter. The sound made him smirk. "Pass me the oil please Love," Damian requested while still slowly stroking Danny's dick.

"Sure," Danny breathed, sitting up and reaching over to the bedside table, scrabbling through the drawer for the body safe oil they used as lube. While he did Damian took the chance to strip the rest of his own clothes.

Danny handed the lube over, his eyes roaming over Damian's body. he smiled and sat back to let Danny look, he knew he was painfully hard as well, but he wasn't thinking about that, too focused on Danny at the moment. He saw the way Danny's pupils dilated when he was planning to pounce and beat him to it, swooping down to kiss the other man and hold him down without any real force.

Damian knew his intention was enough to keep Danny firmly on his back right now. "Let me take care of you," Damian crooned. He straddled Danny's waist and leaned back, bracing one hand on Danny's knee so he had a good view as Damian started to work himself open slowly. He knew he looked good, and it made him feel good being watched like this, to be enjoyed by his lover.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous," Danny breathed, reaching up slowly enough that Damian could have said no. When he didn't Danny ran his hands over Damian's toned chest and taught stomach, settling for holding his hips and helping hold the angle as Damian tried not to focus to much on his own pleasure.

"Alright," He murmured to himself, letting out a shuddering breath as he pulled out his own fingers once he was lose enough. He shifted down, lining himself up with Danny's cock and holding it carefully with one hand as he lowered himself with a long shuddering moan.

The sound of pleasure Danny let out when he bottomed out inside Damian was particularly inhuman. He'd been self conscious of those little snarls and wails at first but Damian loved them. They made his skin pebble in goose flesh and a shiver run down his spine, a tiny little twist of fear to add spice to his pleasure.

He leaned forward, shifting and swiveling his hips slowly until he found the angle that felt best and most comfortable. Beneath him Danny's breathing came fast and shallow, his grip on Damian's hips turning bruising as he struggled to control himself. Still Damian wasn't actually scared, he knew his beloved would never hurt him.

"Ohhh," he sighed when he found just the right position and quickly pushed himself up so he could sink back down. His moan was pleasant backing vocals for Danny's snarl as he threw his head back. Damian gave a breathless laugh and started riding Danny quickly having just about used up Both of their patience.

He kept his own noises soft, little gasps and moans, not because he needed to but because he wanted to hear Danny. His own pleasure was incidental and inevitable as he worked to draw as many varied noises as he could from his Lover.

"Damian! Damian, I'm going to cum," Danny warmed breathlessly.

"Good, me too," Damian breathed.

Damian let out a startled yelp when Danny sat up quickly, surging up to kiss Damian almost to hard, holding him tight as Damian came, shuddering and collapsing in Danny's arms. Shivering with the odd combination of disgust and delight that came with being covered in and filled with both their orgasmic fluid.

"Straight to the shower?" Danny asked, sounding amused. He knew Damian so well.

"Yes please. Carry me," Damian demanded imperiously for the sole purpose of making Danny laugh. Which it did, even as he did exactly what Damian asked and scooped him up in a bridal carry.

[letters-to-rosie]

okay time to collect some thoughts

spoilers for season 2

as soon as they said there were other regions going to be explored, I knew Noxus was going to be the big thing, and that the battle between the cities and the class conflict angles of the story were going to be set aside. if you know me, you know I would hate this, but because I anticipated it, it wasn't too bad. I had already killed the version of the show I wanted in my head and was ready to take things as they came. and it wasn't all bad. Ambessa makes for a great villain, and all the twists and turns with her and Mel were pretty enjoyable

that being said, the second season in general did away with most of the things I liked about the first: subtlety, nuance, environmental storytelling (and all that sweet sweet class conflict)---I mean the cities just faded into the background as we watched everything play out. even a lot of the great character work we got in the first season was just left as it was. most the characters didn't really get to move much from where they were in the first season. even the ones I enjoyed (like Ambessa) were essentially the same as they were before. there were a lot of things that were cool. a lot of things that were interesting. most of them don't work when put together

Jayce? liked him this season, actually. had fun when he was suffering lol and fighting Viktor. Jayce disappearing out of the blue when the basement of the hexgates wasn't set up at all? boooooo

Jinx? gets to realize she isn't just a jinx. gets to help people. is this realized in a satisfying way? nope. we get one scene of people touching her and then Isha dies and she's back where she was at the start of the season, almost. plus her relationship with Sevika just drops off, and I was having fun with that

Cait? love her evil era. I also like that the plot didn't let her entirely off the hook. love less how she engaged in fucking chemical warfare like what even and that was never addressed

Ekko? has my whole heart. did before, but whatever. saved everyone's asses by being the best boy. love how he's motivated by helping the people who need him. love MUCH less that we never get to see him doing that work. like what did he think of Jinx becoming inspiring to people? how would that combine with his experience in the alternate timeline?

I could go on. I might be better prepared to deal with this than some because I didn't think it would be good in the first place lol I had like no hope. it was such a grand show in the first place and they made it so much grander. there's a lot to like, but the first season REALLY carries it. it feels like two separate shows. I don't begrudge anyone really liking the second season, but I will maintain that the fanbase deserved (and still deserves) better

[kyywritess]

CHAPTER 5: KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER

pairing: aged up!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

summary: After six intense years in Japan, YN LN has firmly established herself as a renowned gym owner. She's known by many pros for her charm, strength, and boxing abilities. She has a strong support system and amazing friends... her life in Japan was everything she dreamed it would be.

But everything changes one fateful night when a mysterious package appears on her doorstep. No note, no return address—just a plain box wrapped with a single pearly pink ribbon. As she unravels the contents of the box, she’s drawn into a dark, twisted mystery that seems to reach deep into her own past—a past she thought she had buried when she left her old life behind.

wc: 2.8k

---

Staring out at the skyline of Musutafu, Bakugo sat at a conference table with other pro heroes, the atmosphere heavy as grim photos flashed on the screen.

“There’s been another casualty,” a senior hero announced, their voice grim. “A young woman, found in her home last night. However, we managed to recover some security footage.”

Bakugo’s attention snapped to the screen, his heart skipping at the mention of a young woman and camera footage. His mind immediately jumped to you, but the knot in his chest loosened when he saw the images—it wasn’t you.

Still, he hadn’t seen or heard from you in days. He’d stopped by your place during patrol the other night to check on you after you’d taken a bad fall and hit your head.

When you hadn’t answered, he’d let himself in with the key you’d given him, scanning the apartment for signs of forced entry. Nothing seemed out of place—until he called you, and you finally answered.

The sound of another man’s voice in the background had caught him off guard.

Bakugo wasn’t one to get jealous. He didn’t chase after anyone. But you? You were different. You weren’t just anyone.

From the moment he met you—the sharp-tongued gym owner who could spar with him almost as well as you could trade barbs—he’d been hooked. There was something about the way you carried yourself, the spark in your eyes, your effortless strength.

Over time, his admiration had deepened. He noticed the little things: the slight change in your perfume, the way you’d stopped wearing your hair in a certain style, the way your laugh could disarm him like no villain ever could.

You were the exception, the one person he’d chase to the ends of the earth if he had to. And he wasn’t about to lose you to some extra who probably couldn’t throw a decent punch.

Snapping back to the present, Bakugo narrowed his eyes at the screen. Something in the footage caught his attention—a detail others had missed.

“Zoom in on that image,” he ordered, his voice cutting through the room.

Deku, holding the remote, adjusted the image, focusing on the man in the footage.

“More. His wrist.”

The screen zoomed in, revealing a tattoo on the man’s wrist. The word Omertà was inked in bold, an unmistakable symbol of the mafia’s code of silence.

“He’s flaunting it,” Bakugo growled. “The bastard knows we’re watching.”

Todoroki frowned. “It could be a coincidence.”

“No way,” Bakugo shot back. “He made sure the camera caught it. He wants us to know.”

Deku suddenly pulled up an old news report on his laptop. “This might be connected. A few years ago, an abandoned warehouse in the U.S. was blown up. They only recovered a few bodies, but every one of them had that same tattoo.”

“If this is an American mob, why are they here?” Todoroki asked, his voice steady but curious.

Deku shook his head. “The report didn’t give many details, and when I searched, there weren’t any follow-ups. Officially, they called it an accident.”

“Someone buried it,” Endeavor said, his tone grim. “The question is, who?”

“We need intel,” Bakugo said, his fists clenching. “Get the American Hero Committee on the line. If they’ve been dealing with these guys, they’ll know something.”

“I’ll handle the calls,” Deku offered, already typing.

Bakugo pushed his chair back, rising abruptly. “Do that. I’m not sitting around while these scumbags think they can move in on our turf.”

“Where are you going?” Endeavor asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Got somewhere to be.” Bakugo muttered, heading for the door. “Keep me updated.”

The team exchanged glances as Bakugo stormed out.

He couldn’t shake the thought of you, though. Whatever was happening, Bakugo knew one thing for sure: no one messed with his city—or with you.

---

YN’S POV

The past few days had been a blur of caffeine-fueled frustration as you and James worked tirelessly to gather intel. Despite countless hours and far too many coffee breaks, the pieces of the puzzle still didn’t fit together. Meanwhile, life didn’t slow down for your obligations outside the investigation. Running the gym meant you couldn't rely on your employees to pick up the slack—it wouldn’t be fair to them.

Tonight’s task was a children’s class, and your special guest was nowhere in sight.

You glanced at the clock, the start of the class just five minutes away, while kids eagerly laced up their gloves, their excited chatter occasionally turning to questions about your promised guest. Anxiety crept up your spine as you called him yet again, only to be met with voicemail for the umpteenth time.

It wasn’t just about tonight—you hadn’t spoken to him since the night you hit your head. Something about his silence gave you the nagging suspicion that he was mad at you. But you hadn’t expected him to be petty enough to completely ditch the class.

“You didn’t think I’d show, did you?”

The voice startled you, low and full of smug satisfaction. Spinning around, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Katsuki Bakugo himself.

“Katsuki! What the hell?” you exclaimed, punching him in the arm with more force than necessary.

“Oi!” He winced, rubbing the spot with an exaggerated glare. “What was that for?”

“You were supposed to be here ages ago!” you huffed, arms crossed. “Do you know how many voicemails I left you?”

“I dunno, ten? I didn’t count,” he shot back, the smirk creeping onto his face only fueling your irritation. “Relax, I’m here now.”

“Barely.” You gave him your best stern look, though his lack of concern made it feel like you were trying to lecture a brick wall.

He quirked an eyebrow, his crimson eyes sparkling with mischief. “A meeting ran late, okay? I came as soon as I could.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, still not entirely appeased. “Help me grab these pads. We’re working on defense today.”

As you handed him a few pads, you retrieved the rest from the tote and launched into your explanation. “The kids can throw decent punches, but their defense is still pretty weak. I figured we’d give them a proper demonstration to help it click.”

Trailing behind you to the mat, Bakugo’s expression softened when he noticed the kids’ wide-eyed stares and excited whispers. The realization that Dynamight was standing in their gym had lit a fire of enthusiasm you hadn’t seen in ages.

“Alright, everyone,” you began, clapping your hands to gather their attention. “As promised, we have a special guest today—Dynamight himself!”

Gasps and cheers erupted, the kids practically bouncing with excitement. You spotted one in the corner nearly vibrating out of their shoes.

“Dynamight is here to help us with defense drills,” you continued. “And if you’re lucky, you might even get to fight him yourself.”

The kids collectively lost their minds, one of them outright shouting, “I’m gonna destroy you!”

Bakugo snorted, muttering under his breath, “Bold of ‘em to assume.”

“Dynamight, do you want to say something?” you prompted, nudging him lightly.

He stared at you, clearly out of his depth, but the silent plea in your eyes pushed him forward. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve got,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

You raised an eyebrow, your expression screaming that’s it?

Groaning under his breath, he added begrudgingly, “If you do good today, I’ll let you throw punches at me.”

The kids exploded in cheers, their excitement reaching a fever pitch.

Rolling your eyes, you motioned for them to line up against the wall. “Alright, me and Dynamight are going to demonstrate some basic defense moves. You’ll practice with pads while we suit up with gloves.”

Tossing a pair of gloves at Bakugo, you slipped yours on and got into position. “The first move is head defense. Dynamight, take a shot at me.”

He threw a slow, controlled hook toward your head, the smirk on his face daring you to mess up. You blocked it effortlessly, your arm shielding your ear, temple, and chin with practiced precision.

“See? Tight guard. Make sure your arm is tucked close to your face. Now, let’s see you all try!”

As the kids practiced, Bakugo leaned closer, his voice low. “You’re not half-bad at this.”

“Not half-bad?” you echoed, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know I’m a great teacher.”

He smirked, leaning back shrug. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I wouldn’t mind havin’ you as my teacher back in the day.”

“Oh?” You quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. “What about Aizawa? You’re always singing his praises.”

“Tch, he was good. But I mean before U.A. Back when I was a little punk, maybe I’d’ve turned out different if I had someone like you around.”

You nudged him playfully. “Don’t dwell on it. I was a punk too, y’know. Besides, your personality is one of my favorite things about you.”

He turned to you, his expression softening. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

The rest of the class flew by, and true to his word, Bakugo let the kids take turns throwing punches at him. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him interact with them, his usual sharpness giving way to a surprising warmth.

“Thank you again.”

“Yeah.” Katsuki’s response was quiet, almost uncharacteristic, as he stared off to the side, his brows slightly furrowed like he was wrestling with his thoughts. You could sense there was something else he wanted to say, but hesitation hung in the air between you.

“Katsuki?” you prompted softly, tilting your head.

He shifted, exhaling sharply through his nose. “I wanted to ask ya somethin’.”

A nervous energy settled in your chest, your pulse quickening. His seriousness was rare, and you couldn’t help but wonder what was coming. Before he could continue, though, a hand on your shoulder snapped your attention away.

“Y/N.”

Turning around, you found James standing there, his expression calm but purposeful. He had been stationed in your office throughout the class, a constant shadow ever since his arrival, clearly intent on keeping an eye on you.

“I have a business call to take,” he said with a polite nod. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”

He gave a slight bow of his head toward Katsuki before turning on his heel and striding toward the exit. You barely had time to process his departure before Katsuki’s voice cut through.

“Who's the old bastard?”

You blinked, turning back to him. His ruby eyes narrowed slightly, and there was a flicker of something—irritation, curiosity, maybe even jealousy—etched into his face.

“That’s James,” you explained, adjusting the gym bag on your shoulder. “The ‘friend’ I was with the other night.”

“You like em' old?” he quipped, arching a brow.

Your eyes narrowed, and before you could think twice, you punched him lightly on the arm for the second time that evening. “He’s a family friend from America, you idiot. He and his wife are visiting, and I’m showing them around town.”

“Oh.” His response was clipped, almost sheepish, though he tried to mask it with a shrug.

“Yeah, oh.” You shot him a pointed look, your tone laced with mock exasperation. “Anyway, what did you want to ask me?”

It was clear his train of thought had been derailed. He seemed flustered now, his confident air wavering as the faintest pink dusted his cheeks.

“Nothin’,” he muttered, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “Forget it.” He made to turn away, but you weren’t about to let him off the hook so easily.

“Just ask me,” you said firmly, grabbing his hand and tugging him to a stop.

He let out a frustrated breath, looking anywhere but at you. “The hero gala is comin’ up,” he began, his voice gruff, almost like he was annoyed with himself for even bringing it up. “I need a date.”

“And?” you prodded, your brows lifting in encouragement.

“Was wonderin’ if you wanted to go with me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “Me?”

“No, idiot,” he shot back, rolling his eyes, though his flushed face betrayed him. “I’m talkin’ to the wall.”

A laugh bubbled out of you as you lightly swatted at his arm. “Why me?”

His lips pressed into a tight line, and for a moment, you thought he might backtrack entirely. But then he huffed, “Forget it. If you don’t wanna go, just say it.”

“No, no, I want to,” you blurted out quickly, a smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll go with you.”

“Yeah?” His gaze snapped to yours, a flicker of relief crossing his face.

“Yeah.”

As you smiled up at him, a wave of unease churned in your stomach, clashing with the butterflies that danced at his gaze—a gaze meant only for you. You were falling for him, and the timing couldn’t have been worse.

---

Bakugo had been riding a rare high ever since leaving the gym. For weeks, he’d been working up the nerve to ask you to be his date to the hero gala, and now that you’d said yes, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. The corners of his lips twitched into a small, satisfied smirk as he arrived back at the agency, heading straight for his office.

“Kacchan, wait!”

The familiar voice of Deku cut through the hallway, and Bakugo turned to see him hurrying over, a sense of urgency written all over his face.

“What is it now?” Bakugo asked, raising an eyebrow as Deku thrust a vanilla file folder into his hands.

“We got more information. Look at this.”

Flipping the folder open, Bakugo scanned the first page. A detailed report stared back at him, the name Anthony Moretti printed in bold letters at the top alongside a grainy photo of a middle-aged man with sharp features and cold, calculating eyes.

“Who the hell is this?” Bakugo questioned, his voice low and sharp.

“Anthony Moretti,” Deku explained, his tone grim. “He’s a Mafia boss from America. That warehouse that blew up? It was an underground club he was running.”

Bakugo frowned, his crimson eyes narrowing. “Why the hell was this sealed from public records?”

“The explosion was caused by a group of pro heroes,” Deku said, his voice dropping lower. “Not only did the blast kill everyone inside the building, but it also took out civilians nearby. The higher-ups didn’t want the general public knowing that pro heroes were responsible for innocent lives being lost.”

“Tch,” Bakugo scoffed, his grip tightening on the file. “They’re trying to cover their asses.”

“Exactly,” Deku said, handing over another folder. This one bore a picture of a masked hero, her face obscured but her stance confident and commanding.

“Do you remember her?” Deku asked.

Bakugo’s eyes darkened. “Yeah… Nova. She died a few years back.”

“She was the only hero assigned to the case,” Deku continued. “Apparently, all her work was undercover.”

“If she was the only hero, who the hell was she working with?” Bakugo asked, his tone clipped.

“She was partnered with two federal agents assigned by the Hero Committee—Lila Macontash and James Tucker,” Deku said.

“Do we have any way of getting a hold of them?” Bakugo pressed.

“Lila died in the explosion that night,” Deku explained, his voice heavy, “but I’m working on finding James Tucker. After Nova and Lila’s deaths, he went off the radar and stopped working with heroes for a while.”

“Find him. He’s probably the only shot we’ve got at figuring out what went down that night.”

“I’ve already got Todoroki tracking him,” Deku said.

“And what about Moretti?” Bakugo asked, his sharp gaze cutting to Deku. “Where is he now?”

“It’s unclear,” Deku admitted. “Apparently, after the explosion, they arrested him, but he escaped prison a few weeks ago.”

Bakugo let out a low growl, his irritation bubbling. “If his team’s here, then he has to be close. But why the hell would they come to Japan?”

Deku shook his head. “That’s what doesn’t make sense. It seems like they wanted us to know they’re here, but why target innocent women?”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched, his mind racing. “It doesn’t add up. The only two women who went after him—Nova and Lila—are dead. Even if they were alive, Moretti wouldn’t risk being in Japan just to send a message.”

“I’ll dig deeper,” Deku assured him. “I’ll see if he has any ties to Japan. And once we track down James Tucker, hopefully, we can piece together what really happened that night.”

“Good.” Bakugo’s voice was sharp and resolute. “Let me know the second you hear anything.”

---

TAGLIST: @emmaafinchh

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[starcrossed591]

CDrama Year in Review 2024

Another year, another crop of CDramas! I had less time for dramas this year than I'd have liked and still have a few that I'm finishing up, but am close enough to done that I feel like I can commit to rankings/reactions. I'm not sure that anything truly took over my brain this year, but there were still a number of dramas that I loved, so here we go! (And if you're also a KDrama person, you can find that list for the year here)

Disclaimer: Rankings based on my personal preference, not objective quality.

14) The Substitute Princess’s Love: I didn’t really have any problems with this inoffensive historical, but also wasn’t grabbed by it, either. Dropped about halfway through.

13) Fortune Writer: I liked the premise of this one—a villain who learns she is in a novel and is determined not to be killed off by the plot—but picked it up too soon while it was airing and wasn’t caught up in it enough to keep up with it. Dropped.

12) Follow Your Heart: I so enjoy so much of this rockstar cast, which includes Luo Yun Xi, Song Yi, and Ryan Cheng, that it was especially disappointing how much the script let them down. A remake of sorts of the KDrama The Beauty Inside, this drama features an ML with face blindness and an FL who occasionally shape shifts, which was fun at first but did not hold up for as long as it needed to to maintain any sort of real tension. It had maybe a little too much of a youth/idol historical vibe for me? I kept up with it for about 30 episodes, but even the beautiful suffering of Luo Yun Xi could not keep me hooked, alas. Dropped.

11) Different Princess—Definitely a lower budget drama, but I lowkey enjoyed this transmigration drama in which the writer gets stuck in her story as (of course) a female character supposed to be immediately killed off. Instead, she keeps herself has a romance with the villain initially supposed to kill her off, which I was very here for. There are certainly higher production value dramas with the same premise that do it better, but I enjoyed this one for what it was. I also always appreciate a drama that takes seriously the difficulty of a transmigrated character who knows she can’t stay and doesn’t know what that means for a relationship that she is really, truly invested in.

10) Snowfall—I really, really liked the first 15 episodes of this drama, but then I got distracted and just…never came back? That said, vampires in Republican China are an excellent idea, and I’m glad this story exists. Would still recommend if you’re in the right mood for a very gothic tragic vampire romance with gorgeous set and costume design.

9) Amidst a Snowstorm of Love—This drama is definitely relationship propaganda (affectionate), but I enjoyed it nonetheless, especially after the turmoil of The Princess Royal when I wanted more of Zhao Jin Mai. She’s lovely here as Yin Guo, and of course, Leo Wu brings his overpowering smolder even as a contemporary billiards player rather than a historical general. Although this drama has heavy doses of Finland-travel-ad and For-the-glory-of-China sports ball and I somehow know approximately zero percent more about snooker than I did when I started, I still really liked it overall and would recommend if you’re in the mood for a slice of life comfort watch.    

8) Are You the One—Look, will this drama blow your socks off? No. However, since Lost You Forever rewrote some of my brain chemistry and I am Zhang Wan Yi trash, I really enjoyed more time having him on my screen. Though it plays with domestic bliss, the setup of a general setting up a woman with amnesia as his “wife” to use as a bait for the bandit he’s trying to catch is pretty foul, actually, and the drama was at its best when it leans into how truly fucked up it is of Cui Xing Zhou to deceive Liu Mian Tang (played wonderfully by Wang Chu Ran) that way, especially when she at first trusts him completely and does her best to support her ‘husband’. I did kind of call the twist that turns it from a game of cat and mouse to a game of cat and cat fairly early, but the slow burn as they creep towards an entirely preventable tragedy was fabulous. I think it was a mistake to market this drama as a rom com, and even though it doesn’t ultimately end up a tragedy, very much appreciated the angst and situational irony that the drama put its characters through to get them to their well-earned ending.    

7) Love Game in Eastern Fantasy—I like this one! Esther Lu is charming as a modern day woman transmigrated into a video game version of a novel from her favorite author that flopped for her. As these things normally go, she finds cast as a villain she found supremely annoying upon reading, and she must get grouchy SML Ziqi (Ding Yu Xi) to fall in love her, along with a few other tasks, to escape the game. It’s pretty typical xianxia cultivator vs demon stuff, but the characters are fun to spend time with, the costuming and styling is gorgeous, and the it’s generally all around delightful. Full disclosure—I have about ten episodes left, but fully intend to finish as soon as I get the chance.

6) Fangs of Fortune—Another one I quite like but just haven’t *quite* had the time to finish. A fabulous found family/polycule just dripping in angst are at the center of this beautifully shot drama, and for the first fifteen episodes or so, I was totally riveted until life got in the way and I had to pause. Still, the cinematography is so gorgeous and distinctive, the characters and their tangled relationships are fantastically developed, and the OST is just as good. I’ve heard the last few episodes are a bit messy, but I’m really looking forward to finishing this one, too, as soon as I have the time.

5) Lost You Forever Part 2—I’m not even really sure what to say about this drama. LYF Part 1 was my top drama of last year, and Part 2 was always gonna be tough for them to put together, especially under current censorship restrictions and with the episode cap they were given. I did ultimately still enjoy it overall and would still recommend it because I loved Part 1 so very much, but will always sort of yearn for the drama it could have been had they been allowed to follow the path of the novel. Xiaoyao, Cang Xuan, Xiang Liu, and Tushan Jing are still some of my favorite characters to have encountered, and I look forward to what their actors do next. (If you’re interested, I…actually co-host a podcast where we did two episodes on LYFP2 analyzing what worked and what really, really did not, which you can find here and here.)

4) Will Love in Spring—A contemporary romance with some actually very adult characters whose relationship I very much enjoyed watching develop. Much more angsty than the fluffier Amidst a Snowstorm of Love, this drama features a not-always-likeable FL and ML who went to school together, but haven’t seen each other for years before they reconnect in their hometown. The ML is a funeral makeup artist, which was a fascinating to see, and the FL, though very well put together on the surface, has her own trauma to overcome because of her prosthetic leg. I really liked the small town setting as these two damaged adults manage to make their way to each other despite both being extremely prickly when rubbed the long way, and if the end is a little bit hand-wavey in it’s neat resolution, I enjoyed spending time with these characters so much that I don’t care.

3) Blossom—I’m not *quite* done with this historical transmigration story, but I’m close enough to the end to know that I love it. I love a realistically competent—and complementary—FL and ML, and Dou Zhao knowing the general strokes of the past she’s going back to but not the finer details of crazy political plots she wasn’t involved in is a clever way to keep viewers on their toes as well. I also really love the consistent refrain of Song Mo that he knows Dou Zhao will thrive on her own but could do even better with love and support. I also have appreciated many of the ensemble characters who have turned out just a little differently in Dou Zhao’s second go round, perhaps her little sister Ming’er the most (poor Ming). I’ve also really enjoyed Li Yun Rui in a male lead role, since I quite enjoyed him as a smartass SML in Love Like the Galaxy in my early CDrama days. Definitely recommend checking out if you haven’t!

2) The Grand Princess/The Princess Royal—This drama *just* edging out Blossom because of how much I adored and latched onto Li Rong (Zhao Jin Mai) a more bitter—and honestly more damaged—transmigrated FL than Dou Zhao. In this transmigration historical or was their first life all a dream, who’s to say, Li Rong and her prince consort husband/political enemy die on the same day, Li Rong of poison and her husband of the assassination Li Rong orders because she assumes he did it (oops). Li Rong and Pei Wan Xuan (Zhang Ling He) thus both transmigrate back to their youth before their politically arranged marriage, and in a delightful turn of events, recognize the other almost immediately because of their *Go strategy* (yes they are also giant nerds, actually), and decide to team up to prevent the tragedy that had ensued in their first lives and then go their separate ways. Seeing these two choose to grow together in this life rather than apart was a real treat. Did the SML get too much screentime in the second half, and could he have benefited from a stronger actor? Absolutely yes. Did it take away from my enjoyment of Li Rong’s rather profound emotional development as she chose to trust people she didn’t before? Not at all (or at least, only a little). The combination of political maneuvering, the mystery of just where Li Rong went wrong in her first life, and sweeping second chance romance all really hit for me. I adored this drama.

1) The Legend of Shen Li—I was absolutely hooked by this xianxia whose mature leads found themselves growing inexorably closer to each other even though the literal rules built into the fabric of the universe are against them. I adored Zhao Li Ying in The Story of Ming Lan, and she didn’t disappoint as demon general Shen Li, and she had such fantastic chemistry with Lin Geng Xin as Xing Zhi, the last of the old gods. I was all in for every narrative arc of this drama, from their domestic bickering in the first arc in which Xing Zhi is a sickly mortal and Shen Li is largely stuck in the form of a phoenix aka ugly chicken, to when Xing Zhi does his very best to pretend a complete lack of interest in Shen Li even as he can’t seem to leave her alone, to Xing Zhi absolutely losing it when he thinks Shen Li has been lost and defying the universe itself to try to find her, to their determination to save the demon realm even at the cost of their own lives. And (spoiler) their comfortable domestic bliss mixed with flirty, gender bendy shenanigans in the epilogue episode was such a treat. There may have been characters and moments in other dramas that I occasionally had stronger emotional reactions to, but this one was hardly lacking in emotional punch and was also the most solid from beginning to end. I would recommend it without reservations or caveats.

Favorite Female Character: There were a lot of female characters to like this year, but the one that hit hardest for me is Li Rong (Zhao Jin Mai) in The Princess Royal. She pretty quickly recognizes that her quest for power and single-minded mission to keep her brother on the throne in her first life came at great personal cost *and* failed to make her happy.  Her resulting determination to make different choices—often ones that make her more emotionally vulnerable—in her second go round at life made her really compelling. I appreciated that although Li Rong is inarguably a strategic genius, she still often completely misread of other’s people’s emotions and totally misunderstood how those emotions will affect their actions. I also loved seeing her relationship develop differently not just with her husband, but with the other female characters that she forms an alliance with early on. Li Rong Still ultimately chooses to trust those people again even after she has been so deeply betrayed in her first life by the people she loves the most in the world, which took tremendous strength.

Favorite Male Character: Look, I just loved that Xing Zhi (from The Legend of Shen Li), the last of the old gods and the most powerful being in the universe, just wanted to putter around at home and take care of his wife. He also had this undercurrent of amusement and good cheer even when he was annoying the heck out of Shen Li by needlessly following her around while also refusing to admit his true feelings even to himself that was really fun to watch. It was also nice that he was played by a fully grown man in his thirties rather than someone younger—Lin Geng Xin’s layered performance was a big part of what made this character who he was.

Favorite Secondary Female Character: Lost You Forever Part 2 had many, many weaknesses, but A’Nian’s growth from impulsive, bratty princess to an even-keeled, clever, far-seeing queen was not one of them. I’ve always been very fond of A’Nian (yes she is my icon, why do you ask), even before she really deserved it, but I was so obsessed with both her arc as an individual—she even led troops?? Successfully?? After obsessively studying The Art of War to prove that she can be *helpful*??—and in her relationships both with her sister, Xiaoyao, and with Cang Xuan. (Spoiler) A’Nian’s long awaited and longed for wedding to Cang Xuan that she realizes she no longer wants for herself but nonetheless must follow through with for the good of her country broke my heart.

Favorite Ship: This one was pretty close with the leads of The Princess Royal, but Shen Li and Xing Zhi from The Legend of Shen Li. They had such chemistry from the beginning (somehow even when she was a CGI chicken??), and I loved that they were played by/as grown ups making grown up decisions. They balanced the big, dramatic, end of the world scenes with quiet, domestic ones really well, and I loved that even though Xing Zhi was much more powerful than Shen Li (that whole last of the old gods thing), he always stood back and let her do what she was gonna do unless she asked him otherwise. (Spoilers:) The sequence that has stuck with me the most for these two is when Shen Li has been disabled and never knows which of her sense will work when she wakes up—sometime’s she’s blind, sometimes she’s deaf, sometimes she can’t move, etc.—and at one point, she wakes up with none of her senses working. After a terrifyingly indeterminate space of time in which she can’t see, hear, or move and feels trapped in her own body, she regains her senses to find herself leaning against Xing Zhi’s shoulder. When she asks if he’s always been there, he responds that he will “always be around,” and she answers, “Since you are always around, I will no longer be afraid” (giffed here by ladydynamie). For a determinedly independent and competent woman like Shen Li to be able to really lean on Xing Zhi, both literally and figuratively, really speaks to their dynamic and is part of why I loved them so much.

Favorite Secondary Ship: Shanguan Ya (Cheng Guo) and Su Rong Hua (Yi Da Qian) from The Princess Royal have got to be it. Li Rong’s total ignorance of their romantic tragedy in her first lift contrasted with their narrowly avoided tragedy in the second really hit for me. Their personalities also meshed so well, and it was delightful to see Rong Hua fall for the rule-breaking version of Shanguan Ya who disguises herself as a man to sneak out to gamble all the time, rather than her role as well-behaved daughter of a prominent family. Rong Hua falls both first and harder for his lady, which is a trope I love, and refuses to give up on her even when all hope is lost and she seems to choose another path. And not for nothing, a solid and sober Rong Hua showing up for a desperate Shanguan Ya in their first life with the line “In this life, I’m willing to descend into hell with you” is seared into my brain (giffed here by nunafilms).

Favorite Trope: Extremely competent women who do really well on their own but find that they’re even better with the right partner—Li Rong (The Princess Royal), Shen Li (The Legend of Shen Li), and Dou Zhou (Blossom) are three of the best examples.

Biggest Disappointment: I know I still ranked it rather high, but Lost You Forever 2 really was so disappointing. Giving us exactly what it would look like for Cang Xuan and Xiaoyao to tear each other to pieces after that pitch perfect buildup of Cang Xuan getting closer and closer to losing it whenever he feels like he might lose Xiaoyao….and then making it all out to be a drug dream was such a rug pull. I hate that I can’t recommend LYF now without big caveats about part two.

Drama from Another Year: I picked up Meet Yourself after Will Love in Spring when I was wanting more of Li Xian, and I was not at all disappointed. I’m on the record as loving female leads who are Flight Risks™, so of course I was all in for Xu Hong Dou deciding to quit her job and abscond to a small village in the country that she had always meant to visit. The beginning may be a bit fraught (I’m used to first episodes having a lot going on to get things set up, but oh boy was this one rough), but once things get going, I adored this quiet, warm-hearted drama. Each episode felt like spending time with friends, and I would recommend it both for the central romance and it’s fantastic ensemble cast.  

Dramas I Missed: It’s been a bit of a rough year for me professionally, so there were a lot of dramas I really wish I’d had the time for but just didn’t—The Doubleis probably the biggest one here. Other dramas I’m hoping to get to eventually are Liu Yu Ning’s Eternal Brotherhood and Heroes as well as Zhang Wan Yi’s The Rise of Ning. I still kind of want to check out The Story of Pearl Girl, even though I know it was a flop for most people, but looking at my to-watch list (as well as who knows what else will come out in the meantime), I probably won’t make it to this one for a very long time, if ever.

Dramas I’m Looking Forward To: Predicting when (if ever) CDramas will actually air remains a fool’s game, but: A Dream within a Dreamhad an absolutely fire teaser, plus I adore Liu Yu Ning; and Legend of the Female General is giving Ryan Cheng his big break as the ML—I’ve been rooting for him since his mini drama days with A Familiar Stranger. I’m cautiously optimistic about both.