#and built a better world one student at a time

[musepondersthings]

Still holding out hope Gojo comes home

[valleydoli]

𐙚 Ao3 Fics I’ve read and love 𐙚

𐙚 infidelity by @tawus (completed)

gojo x fem reader

Your marriage to Gojo Satoru lost its initial excitement, since your husband spent all his time either at Jujutsu Tech or on exorcism missions across the world. To ease your loneliness, you picked up your favorite pastime from your student years — clubbing — behind his back. Too bad that on Satoru’s most recent mission he spots his wife dancing in a nightclub with a bunch of guys in the skimpiest dress he has ever seen on her…

𐙚 desert rose by @sadistic-kiss (on going)

all jjk men x fem reader 😭

Toji Fushiguro finds you during one of his hitman jobs. With no idea what to do with you he decides to bring you home to his house of misfits. They weren’t picture perfect but neither were you.

𐙚 mascara by @/softstellars (on going)

geto x fem reader

You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself. For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her. It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger. And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.

𐙚 a pearl by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

The Fushiguros needed a nanny, and the pay was too good to not apply, especially since your family needed financial help. You were the perfect nanny for the kids, they loved you as if you were their own mother. Slowly, you built up the perfect relationship with the family. Especially with Mr. Fushiguro. A man who would constantly visit you after dark. A man who you thought had sincere intentions but at the end of the day didn't care about you. A selfish man who just saw you as a tool to make his wife mad. A man who didn't care about you but didn't want you with anyone else. A man that took away your ability to know what a healthy relationship was. You couldn't speak up about it since all the fault would fall at your feet and would be deemed as the "homewrecker".

𐙚 you, my angel and my saint by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

sequel to a pearl!

After having an affair with your boss, you're left to deal with the consequences, those being: two exhausting new jobs and a child. A child that he never got to know the existence of. Now all you had to do was keep her hidden, which should be an easy task, right?

𐙚 rings by @/bungeemum (on going)

toji x fem reader

you divorced the man in front of you for a reason. so why was he standing on your doorstep, guilt plastered on his face, and eyes glinting with hope?

𐙚 a dangerous game by @/anaoyuo (completed)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

Both men agreed to a game about who fucks you first, but they didn't play their cards right. Gojo and Geto changed the course of the game when they decided to keep you around for way longer than intended, making you fall for their sweet way to deprave you, and now you have to face the consequences in a gamble that they call their life.

𐙚 fate’s gamble by @/anaoyuo (on going)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

sequel to a dangerous game

缘分— a story about predestined affinity, set in a world where the intoxicating thrills of wealth intertwine with amorality.

𐙚 him & i by @pharixden (on going)

gojo x fem reader

toji x fem reader

sukuna x fem reader

A cheating husband, a widowed bodyguard and a malevolent fling of the past who owes a favour isn’t a combination for the faint of heart, but not every girl is a damsel in distress.

𐙚 changes by @lemonlover1110 (on going also on tumblr!)

gojo x fem reader

From childhood friends to lovers to mere strangers. Your love story with Satoru Gojo was one from a fairy tail, until it wasn't. When you were twenty-one, Satoru left you without an explanation. Five years later, you meet again but nothing is quite the same. Too many things need to be explained, especially the fact that there's another Gojo that Satoru has yet to meet.

𐙚 the man in apartment 381 by @lemonlover1110 (completed also on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

Looking for a new beginning after the death of your husband, you move away from town. That's when you meet him, Toji Fushiguro, a widower with a three-year-old son. You two understand each other, which draws you close. Except you two don't realize that feelings would eventually develop, and neither of you want that. Feelings are the last thing you two want after finding out the great damage that they can cause. When you two discover this, it's too late.

𐙚 4th avenue viewing by @/softstellars (completed)

nanami x fem reader

Nanami Kento is intelligent, serious, reserved and can easily catch someone in a lie. It's his job to do just that, he's renowned for it. So when he comes to your university to offer up an internship, it's quite the opportunity. Anyone would jump at the chance, except for you. But no, you just had to be the one caught in a lie.

𐙚 forgotten souls by @/killerpoultry & @/bebobopobo (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

You and Sukuna have been married for years. Even though he is brash, mean, and sadistic, you love him more than anything. While he may not show it much, he truly loves you too. One day you get into a terrible car accident and lose all your memories. You learn to live once more while Sukuna must now get you to fall in love with him all over again.

𐙚 love kills by @/sourome (on going)

i actually don’t know 😭 i think toji x fem reader

The wealthy and successful Zenin family, well respected and seemingly perfect. But all that glitters is not gold. Toji Zenin, CEO and face of the Zenin Group acts like a gentleman but is a vile creature that has ruined many lives, such as yours. That married man dared to play with your mother’s heart many years ago, destroying her sanity and her life and ultimately killing her. Now years later and being all grown up you decide to seek revenge, he deserves to suffer that same destiny and die of love. With the help of a few friends you plan to become a part of his life and his every thought but you didn't take into account his son, that man had the potential to turn your plans upside down.

𐙚 the black swan by @uselesslydamaged (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

Loving someone is easy, but experiencing it is harder.

𐙚 bodyguard by @/succybuss (on going)

toji x fem reader

Your Grandfather, a man involved in unsavory businesses that has taken you under his wing, has informed you that you will be under the care of a full-time Bodyguard. Unhappy with your grandfather's decision, you decide to go out for a night of drinking for your last night of freedom. There, you encounter a man you planned on taking home, but life had other plans in store for you...

𐙚 violet lights by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

In which you're at a party that you should've skipped when you capture the attention of a boy who looks like an angel and grins like the devil. He looks beautiful in the neon lights, and maybe you just want to make your ex-boyfriend jealous, but trouble with a tongue ring does sound like fun, just for tonight. What's the worst that could happen, you know?

𐙚 starboy by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

sequel to violet lights

After your ex-boyfriend gets arrested on national television, you find yourself realizing that you really didn’t know much at all about Gojo Satoru. Well, he’s better known in the Yakuza as The Six Eyes, not that he ever told you that.

𐙚 sweet little lies by @/mooglepaws (on going)

toji x fem reader

Megumi Fushiguro is the perfect Fiancé. Caring, loyal, successful, devastatingly handsome and crazy in love with you. So how and why do you end up fucking his Dad? As your wedding looms and the consequences of your affair unfold, you have to make a choice between the Fushiguro men.

This is a Toji x Reader x Megumi but the smut is almost exclusively Toji x Reader focusing on their affair.

𐙚 the twist of a knife by @darkcat23 (on going)

gojo x fem reader

This world is dull, colourless in your eyes. You are just trying to keep going with your life, not bothering anyone, trying to support your mother and yourself. So what happens when you agree to help your ex one night? And what if you catch the attention of a certain white haired assassin? And he shows you just how colourful this world truly is. or, a story of a girl with a violent mind and a boy with violent tendencies, finding each other, intertwining, and feeding off one another. perhaps it is fate that has brought them together. or perhaps it's something more sinister, something more cold.

𐙚 untameable waves by @/circedemedici

(unknown i guess hopefully i can let you know)

has been taken down i dont know if it’ll come back but if it does i’ll link it! but i’m leaving it here because it was most definitely my favourite :(

please let me know any other fics you’ve read because i love reading fics with a LOT of plot and also let me know if you end up reading any and you enjoy them as much as i did! :3

i think i used every tag known to man LOL 𐙚

[pomefioredove]

housewardens + Jamil and Floyd with a reader that plays volleyball please

I think of reader as yuu, but it's not needed to be specified, and NRC doesn't really have volleyball as one of the sports that I know of. so whether it's not a thing in their world or just not at their school, I think it'd be cool to see how the characters react to the reader playing during gym, free time, or for some outside of school club or whatever. it'd be amazing if reader could be a libero, because that's my position, but it doesn't have to be specified

but like, js imagine reader is yuu and so they taught one of the students how to play bc it's not at NRC amd now they play literally whenever they can

I don't know anything about volleyball but I tried 🫡🫡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ volleyball player reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jamil, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

am I crazy to think that Riddle would be into it? seeing as he's somewhat of an athlete himself (equestrian club), he knows the sort of discipline and dedication it takes to truly master a sport

he'll offer to help you organize an ~official~ club, but you don't seem too bothered about it. he finds it endearing that you can wake up in an entirely different world, almost die every other month, and still have the motivation to pursue what you love, anyway

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you'd better be careful around Leona, or you'll end up at morning Spelldrive practice in his place (hehe)

so, you don't have any magic. and? you know how to throw and catch, and that's good enough for him. hell, you're better than most of the magical first years. plus, you're motivated, you're responsible, and Leona Savanaclaw could use someone like you around

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

when Azul sent the tweels to dig up some dirt on you, he wasn't expecting this. like, okay, he underestimated you. he was hoping for something more... exploitable. if only he had a use for volleyball...

oh, well. you're still worth watching, currently useful or not. athletic skill is nothing to sneeze at, especially from a native land-dweller. he might need those legs of yours someday, you know

...wait, that came out wrong

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

no one really bothers looking for Floyd when he doesn't show up to basketball club. not because they don't care, but because it's not worth the time. if he really doesn't want to be found, you just won't find him

of course, the one day Jamil has to leave club early, he walks in on the two of you in the courtyard, playing volleyball

all this time, Floyd had been skipping club to watch you play another ball game just a few minutes away. he's absolutely captivated, too. like a cat with a laser pointer

as unamused as he is, Jamil knows it's absolutely useless to lecture him, so he just... sits and watches you play, too

and, well... he gets it. you're an interesting person, you know?

after that, he figures you may as well join the basketball club

...if only to give you a better place to practice, and to keep Floyd indoors

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

bro if you asked, Kalim would have an entire court built for you. actually, you wouldn't even have to ask. just one mention about how NRC has no volleyball club, and he'd have a team just for you by noon

if you refuse, he's still supportive. and really, really fascinated. he's not as much of an athlete as you or Jamil, which just makes it all the more impressive to him. he'll ask you to explain the game and your position over and over again, even while watching you play

he also just likes hearing your voice, so :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

if there's anything Vil can admire, it's dedication. another thing? passion. being an athlete, or, really, having any serious hobby, demands both of those things

here's the thing; he could already tell. he didn't have to stumble across you during practice (as if he would stumble at all smh). your form, the way you carry yourself, even parts of your personality were context enough

and while he may not say it, he holds a high opinion of you. you can legit get out of VDC training by just saying you're going to practice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you may think that Idia isn't going to go for the jock type, but, actually, one of his favorite animes is about volleyball and-

yeah, yeah. you get it. he's smitten

if he ever gets over his crushing fear of talking to you, you'll never get him to shut up. seriously. he already knows everything there is to know about the game, but that doesn't mean he's not going to ask you to explain everything all over again (he's totally fangirling over this). and sevens forbid you give him a demonstration...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

there's probably not volleyball in Briar Valley. right. I just can't picture that. so the first time Malleus observes you in practice, he's amazed, fascinated even. and he has a lot of questions. good ones!

you could probably convince him to play with you, which would be, uh. interesting? actually he's weirdly an amazing player

you could get all of Diasomnia to form a team, somehow. like I know they'd be abnormally good at it

[miley1442111]

hiii!! i was wondering if you would maybe wanna write a Chef Luca x reader that takes place at the Ever funeral (they met there) and they get to tell everyone that they are engaged? that would be very cute i think

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

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time after time- chef luca

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a/n: thank you so much for requesting, I loved this idea and maybe got a little carried away... :)

summary: a look in at your life with luca

pairings: chef luca x fem! reader

warnings: kissing, cursing, smut (18+) (piv, oral (f reciving), fighting, anxiety, brief mention of vomit, reader gets hurt, blood, talk of injuries and stitches (i think that's it??)

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

As you walked into the Ever funeral, you couldn’t help but feel the nostalgia hit you like a wave. This was where you’d learnt to cook, where you met some of your best life-long friends, and of course, Luca. As you looked at the halls you’d known so well, you couldn’t help but think about your time there, and how it had impacted you, in every way. 

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

Your first day…

You walked in ten minutes early. You were supposed to be twenty minutes early, if you hadn’t had to stop and vomit before you left your new apartment. Chicago was growing on you, though you were surprised at how cold it truly got there, since you’d been living in Spain for the past couple of years. You walked through the halls, everything new, as you greeted fellow students/ chefs. Everyone knew who you were, you were supposed to be a rising star in the food world, winning the ‘Rising Chef Award’ that year for your work in Azurmendi restaurant, a michelin star restaurant in Spain. You were supposed to be the best, so when people found out you weren’t, they would have a fucking field day. 

Carmen Berzatto was quiet, but he was the person you clicked with the most. Clearly the mentally disturbed got along well, that's what you two said anyways. 

Luca was a fucking prick. He was the cockiest of cocky pieces of shit, he was acting like he owned the place, and better yet, he was fucking stunningly gorgeous. You turned to your new friend, Gilian as she swooned over the British accent, tattoos, and built arms. 

The day went by smoothly, hitting it off with other chefs in the group, but never really getting close enough to Luca to really see anything other than his cocky smirks and party-boy aura. You loved Ever already, and you were excelling. You got put with Gillian as your partner, and Carm was put with Luca, and though they both tried to switch, no one would take the other, so they were forced to deal with it. 

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

Your first week…

Luca and Carmen were a match made in hell. They politely threw digs at each other right under Chef Andrea’s nose, and when they were caught, she was too fond of the both of them to actually punish them. You’d learnt that Carm had a great way of getting people to do the things he wanted them to, aka, screaming at the top of his lungs, and Luca was slower than Carm, which meant they were both equally as insufferable as each other. Like you said, match made in hell. 

You stayed late one night, trying to perfect a recipe you were supposed to send back to Azurmendi. It was beating your ass, every single time it just felt wrong. Like something was missing. 

You watched in horror as Luca walked into the kitchen, his apron on and a bowl of pastry dough in his hands. 

God, this was going to be a long night. 

“What are you making?” He asked, kneading the dough. 

“Just something for Azurmendi,” you mumbled, not exactly wanting this conversation to progress. Some of the girls had been complaining about his ‘asshole behaviour’ but what they really meant was that he was handsome and didn’t want to go out with them. 

“Can I see?’ he asked, and you nodded slowly, moving out of the way of the dish to let him try it. 

It was a deconstructed caramelised banana pudding with raspberry compote that was still missing something. He walked around the counter, his eyes on you the whole time as you absorbed yourself in the plate. It looked beautiful, but did it taste good? You’d tried a hundred and one things with it, strawberry compote, vanilla sauces, mango, everything. This was your last resort. 

He looked at the plater, moving it around to get different angles. It was a stunning presentation, he couldn’t lie. “What does it taste like?”

You shrugged. He chuckled. 

“What?” he chuckled. “Are you messing with me?”

You shook your head. “I don’t like bananas, or raspberries,” you shrugged. “You taste it and tell me.” 

He was in shock when you handed him a spoon. “You’re sure?” and you nodded.

He dug in, tasting the banana pudding, with the caramel, and the raspberry compote and… it was delicious. Probably the best thing he’d ever eaten, and from the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. See, you wouldn’t know this until years later but since the first day, he’d been looking at you. He’d wanted nothing more than to even be friends with you, he didn’t even know he;d one day become your boyfriend, then your fiancé, and soon, your husband. “That’s fucking brilliant.”

You smiled softly. “You sure?”

“Best thing I’ve ever eaten, hands down,” he nodded, taking another spoon. 

You chuckled. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, trust me, I’m not,” he said, shovelling another spoon into his mouth. “You mind if I finish this?” He asked, mouth full of the dessert. Usually stuff like that would make you gag, but Luca made it funny. You found yourself laughing. “Luca,” he smiled, holding out his hand for you to take once he’d finished his meal. 

“Y/n,” you smiled. 

“You’re really impressive, I’ve seen your stuff. I’d love to pick your brain about Azumendi, if you wouldn’t mind me geeking out about you for a few hours?” He smiled. He was pretty charismatic, and pretty well… pretty. 

“Sure,” you nodded. “When are you free?”

“Saturday night? I know this great restaurant nearby,” He smiled. 

“I’m free Saturday night,” you nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Sounds like a date to me!” Chef Andrea called from behind you two as she walked in. You two jumped apart, despite being pretty far apart to begin with. 

“I-um-you didn’t- it doesn't have to be-” you stumbled over your words as Luca watched with a crooked smile on his face. 

“It's a date,” he cut you off. “Unless you don’t want it to be.” 

You nodded. “Then I think it’s a date,” you smiled. 

Luca was sure to thank Andrea the next day. 

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

Saturday night…

You got out of your chef white’s the second you got home and straight into getting ready for the date that was forty-five minutes away. You did your makeup, got dressed, then waited by the door for Luca. 

The doorbell rang and there he was, pink shirt, black slacks and that same Luca smile. He looked you up and down and smiled. “God you’re fucking gorgeous.”

You felt yourself heat up at his comment. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He smiled wider and off you went to Lorenzo’s, an Italian spot near Ever. 

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

The night went off perfectly, he was sweet, funny, and he actually listened to you as you geeked out about food and restaurants and everything in between. Luca was great. 

When he dropped you back off at your apartment, you were laughing so hard you almost fell over, he caught you by the waist, pulling you into his as he chuckled. 

You didn’t realise how close he was until you noticed his breath on your cheek. Soon, the laughing was softened to sweet smiles, and he cupped your cheek and kissed you softly, much softer than you'd imagined. His lips were sweet, still tasting of the berry dessert you’d shared after your delicious meal. You pull back, a shocked smile on your face.

“I really like you,” he admitted, blushing. “And I really want to take you out again.”

You smiled. “I’d really like that.”

His face lit up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. He let go of you, watching as you unlocked your apartment door. 

“Bye,” he smiled. You couldn’t resist, you pressed your lips to his again as his hands circled your waist and yours went to mess up his hair. 

“Bye,” you called after you pulled away, turning to go inside. He looked so good like that, lips red, hair slightly tousled, shocked look on his face. It was nice. He was nice. 

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

One month in… 

Luca watched you as you walked into the kitchen, talking with Chef Andrea as she asked about the dish you had made in Azurmendi. He thought you were gorgeous, his eyes were always drawn to you in every room. The past month had been full of dinner dates, getting lunch, and sometimes meeting up for breakfasts before work. He was falling in love with you, and he knew it. Everything about you made him want to know more, to spend more time with you, to be with you. Granted, he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet, but all that would change today. He’d decided that on your usual lunch break, he’d ask you to officially be his girlfriend. That was the right thing to do, right? 

“You good man?” Carmen asked, chewing much too loud in Luca’s opinion. 

“Fine,” he answered, finally out of his trance. 

Carmen stared at him for a moment. “You good?”

“Good Chef,” he nodded. 

“Cause it looks to me that you’re staring at Chef Y/n,” he observed. “And that means your head isn’t in the kitchen. Is your head not in the kitchen, Chef?”

“My head is as firmly in the kitchen as yours is up your ass Carm,” Luca retorted before leaving to grab his ingredients for the day. Carmen Berzatto was a dick, Luca had no idea what you saw in him as a friend. 

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

You were cutting, the same as always. Then you felt the familiar nudge that CArm had been giving you in recent weeks, just a friendly tap on the back as he passed behind you. Then there was a knife in your hand. “Fuck!” More specifically, there was a huge gash in your hand. 

Everyone’s eyes shot up, all attention on you. No one moved as you grabbed your hand, blood gushing as your eyes welled up. You crouched down, holding your hand in pain. 

“Y/n-” Carm tried but Luca was quick to swoop in, kneeling beside you. 

“Are you alright? Come on, let’s go,” he held you as he led you out of the kitchen. He held you close, practically carrying you as he put you into his car, rushing you to A&E. 

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

Some stitches, a lot of bandages, and a blood bag later (you’d lost a lot), you were discharged and exhausted. Chicago A&E wait times are no fucking joke. Luca drove you back to your apartment. 

“Anything I can do for you?” He asked, still worried about you. 

“Do you want to come up and we can get takeout? I need to thank you for taking care of me today,” you chuckled. He shook his head, a smile on his face.

“No need for thanking, I’m just glad that you’re ok,” he smiled. “But I will take you up on dinner, since we missed our lunch date today.”

You walked up, hand in hand (not your hurt one), and led him into your apartment. He’d never truly been inside, only getting glimpses, but he knew he’d love it. It was perfect, it was so you. Knick-knacks from you various hobbies and pictures from your life, even one of you as a kid. 

“Cute kid,” he smiled, picking up the photo. You laughed. “She’s cuter now.”

You rolled your eyes at his bad joke. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Lorenzo’s?” He offered. 

“Wow,” you chuckled. “Call back to when we first started dating.”

He nodded. So you were dating, right? “Exactly.”

“Huh, look at that,” you smiled, trying to keep up the facade of not being very nervous about this. “It’s been exactly a month since.”

“Our one month anniversary,” he smiled and your heart melted. He also thought you were actually dating, even if he hadn’t specifically called you his girlfriend, and you hadn’t explicitly said he was your boyfriend. 

He was silent for a moment, so were you. Just looking at each other.

“That means I can call you my girlfriend, right?” He asked, a bashful smile on his lips. 

You smiled back. “Yes.” 

“Good,” he groaned, pulling your waist into his. “I’ve been wanting to call you that all month.”

You chuckled. “I’m glad.”

He smiled. “So you’re my girlfriend.”

“So you’re my boyfriend,” you chuckled and he pressed his lips to yours. 

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” he asked, pulling away. 

“I don’t think I deserve that title after crying today. I’m an ugly crier,” you chuckled. 

“You are not an ugly crier, plus it was Carmen’s fucking fault anyway,” he defended. 

You shrugged. “Things happen in the kitchen.”

“And that wouldn’t have happened if Carm was such a piece of shit,” he cursed, smiling at you. 

“Let’s just order dinner, yeah?” 

He pressed his lips to yours again. “Yeah.”

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

Two months in…

You and Luca had both had a shit day, nothing had gone right in the kitchen, you’d burnt yourself, and Carmen was really getting on Luca’s nerves, to the point of a screaming match during lunch. 

He pushed you up against the counter as he pressed searing kisses to your lips and neck. You were boiling, despite the freezing kitchen.

“Luc,” you groaned. You and Luca hadn’t gone further than heavy making out, and something told you that Luca wasn’t slowing down this time. It was late, you were the only two still there, who could it hurt?

He pulled your t-shirt over your head pressing a kiss to your clavicle. “So gorgeous.”

“Luca, someone could come in,” You hissed as he pressed kisses down your torso. “Luca!”

He looked up from between your legs, eyes dark and hair messy, and a part of you just didn’t care. You wanted him. “Please baby.”

You nodded, a smile on your face. He pulled off your jeans and underwear in one fluid movement as you lay back. 

“So pretty baby,” he pressed kisses to the insides of your thighs as you started overthinking the entire situation. Someone could just come in, anyone, even Andrea, you had no fucking idea. Also, did Luca actually want to do this? Most guys didn’t like eating pussy, and you didn’t even know the last time you’d shaved. 

He finally pressed his tongue against your clit and your brain short- circuited. “Luca!” You moaned, putting a hand in his hair. “Fuck Luca, there!”

Luca added a finger, then two, until you were writhing on the table, fucking you past your first orgasm and into another one, as he moaned along like he was being pleasured by this.  He didn’t stop sucking and fucking your pussy with his tongue for a long time, despite how hard he was in his boxers, despite how much he wanted to fuck you. You tasted incredible, something he could only dream of recreating, oh, that was a good idea… Anyway, he fucked you through two orgasms, then stood back up. 

You whined at the loss of contact as he unzipped his trousers, taking out his cock. God, he was big. Big, and fucking thick. “Luca I-”

“Are you on birth control?” He asked, spreading some of your slick over his cock and stroking himself.

You nodded. He smiled. 

“Good girl.”

And with that, he pushed into you in one painful thrust. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed his to yours in a searing kiss. He let you adjust, then slowly started moving.   

“Faster,” you begged. “Faster Luca.”

He was all too happy to oblige. 

And that’s how your first time fucking Luca was in the kitchen of Ever. 

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

The big fight…

It had been a shit fucking week. Chicago was cold and damp, and your bike had gotten a flat on your way home from work. Shitty. On Monday, your trainee burnt you, then blamed you. On Tuesday, you didn’t even see Luca, he was too busy at Ever. On Wednesday, you smashed your phone screen. On Thursday, Luca’s mother called to say she was visiting next week, with absolutely no warning, so that meant you had to sort out your new apartment all night. 

Shitty. 

Luca barged in, angry from the week. All week he had been fucking up. Small mistake no one should be making, let alone him. Worst part? He hadn’t seen you all week. But there you were, sitting on the couch with a book, snuggled into a throw blanket. 

“Hey,” he called out. No reply. “Baby?” No reply. “Babe!”

No reply. “Fine, fucking be like that.”

Luca marched into the bathroom, his anger bubbling. 

You hadn’t even seen him enter, too engrossed in your novel and the music in your earphones to look up. After about an hour of reading, you left your cosy spot on the couch, retiring to the bedroom. And there he was, your Luca, lying in bed. 

“Hey,” you smiled, climbing into bed beside him. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he scoffed, pulling away from you. “You never fucking listen anyways.”

You were taken aback. Why the fuck was he being so pissy? “What?”

“It’d be great if you could even give me, your fucking boyfriend, a singular moment of your time, but I see that that’s too much to ask, so I’ll just go fuck myself.”

“Luca, what is wrong with you?” You huffed, confused at his words. 

“Maybe I’ve had a shitty week alright? And maybe I wanted to spend time with you but you were too busy with your book to even fucking see me!” 

You sighed. “Luc, I had headphones in, I couldn’t fucking hear you.”

“Oh yeah? And how many times have I asked you to turn down the volume or take one out so you can hear the world around you?” He asked condescendingly. 

“Baby, you’re not meant to be home until 11 most nights, not 7:30. I thought I had time!” 

“I sent you a text about it and all!”

“I wasn’t on my phone!” you defended. 

He sighed. “I’m not doing this right now,” and he walked out of your bedroom, and out of the apartment. 

And you were alone. What had just happened?

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

Luca took a walk to clear his head, but he just felt worse. He was being a dick and he knew it, but he was just so stressed. Work was hard, and you were the only one who made him feel good enough. And recently, since you’d transferred to another restaurant he’d been wondering if he was good enough in the  kitchen, and for you. 

You were amazing, countless chef awards, you’re a beautiful, stunning woman, but you were also kind, patient, and funny. 

Was he enough for you?

 And that night, it had all just exploded. 

He walked back into the apartment to find you on the couch, eyes puffy and red-rimmed, nose running. He felt awful. 

“I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered, kneeling in front of you. “I’m such an arsehole.”

“Yeah you are,” you sniffled. “But so am I. I’m sorry about the headphones.”

He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I was just stressed this week, and I’m just taking it out on you. “I’m sorry, and I love you.”

You both froze. In your year and a half of dating, neither of you had been brave enough to admit that you loved each other, obviously, you both knew and felt the love, but neither of you had been brave enough to do it. 

“Oh,” you said, and Luca looked up, a shocked look on his face. “I love you too,” you blurted out. 

He smiled. “Good, I'm glad.” 

You chuckled. “Me too.”

You both burst out laughing. 

“That was so diplomatic!” you giggled. 

“Who says ‘oh’ after someone says they love them?” Luca laughed, pulling you into his arms as you laughed. 

Your fight had been long forgotten in a matter of seconds. 

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

“Thinking about things?” Luca squeezed your hand, bringing you back to reality. He smirked at you. 

“Maybe?” You smiled, holding him closer. “You?”

“Of course I am,” he whispered. “You looked so gorgeous on the counter-”

“Shut the fuck up!” You groaned. 

Andrea suddenly appeared in front of  you two, a bright smile on her face. “My two chefs!”

“Andrea!” You smiled, pulling her in for a hug. Andrea had always been one of your biggest supporters (well, her and Luca), always calling when she heard something new about your restaurant, and even coming to visit when she was in London. 

“How are you two?” She asked. You smiled at Luca, who smiled back. 

“We’re engaged,” you beamed, showing off the beautiful ring Luca had given to you, just a week ago. 

“Oh my god!” she squealed. “What wonderful news!”

“What’s the wonderful news?” Carmen butted in, a smile on his face. 

“We’re engaged,” Luca answered. 

“Shit, congratulations!” He smiled, pulling you both in for a hug. 

“Well, that is going to be one amazing wedding,” Andrea added. “Who’s your caterer?” She joked.

You both laughed. It felt good. It felt good to be this loved.

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

the bear masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[another-lost-mc]

When MC Needs Surgery

Featuring: The Demon Brothers, the Dateables (most briefly/vaguely mentioned) + gn!Reader

Content/Warnings: Mentions of unspecified health problems, surgical procedures and medical devices. Relationships with the cast are intended to be platonic but may be interpreted as romantic in nature (friendship was the focus here rather than romance). Word count: 3.2k.

A/N: This is dedicated to surgery!anon who requested something for their upcoming surgery. Based on the vague details mentioned to me, I assumed there might be some overlap with my own experiences which is what this is loosely based on. I guess I wrote what I would've liked to have read before my own procedures. I hope this provides some comfort to you as well.

PRE-OP

Some of the demons might wonder why they can't just find some spell to fix what's wrong with you, because how tricky can human anatomy really be? But after Satan does some research and helps you explain to the others (in easy to understand terms while being sensitive of the private details you might not want to share), they realize that perhaps your medical care is best left to the professionals after all.

Lucifer, Diavolo and Barbatos handle the logistics of your care before and after your surgery. Details from your appointments with your medical team help them get a better idea of how long your recovery will be and where you should stay once you leave the human world hospital.

There is some disagreement about whether you should stay at the House of Lamentation or the Demon Lord's Castle. There are pros and cons about staying at the House of Lamentation.

Pros: all of the demon brothers are there to help you when you need assistance.

Cons: all of the demon brothers are there.

One of the concerns – and it's a reasonable one, if you ask anyone but the brothers themselves – is that they might be too demanding of your company in your condition or inconsiderate of your privacy, and possibly neglectful of your need to rest comfortably and quietly.

As the other alternative available to you, the Demon Lord's Castle has spacious rooms so that you'll be able to have everything you need. Your friends are welcome to come and go within reason, but their visitations will be limited to prevent you from being overwhelmed. Ultimately, the choice is left to you.

When you start attending your pre-op appointments, Lucifer goes with you if you don't ask one of the others to go in his place. He's one of the best choices despite his unfamiliarity with the medical ordeal you're about to go through. He quickly picks up on the details of your procedure and the types of support you'll need during your hospital stay and once you're discharged. He helps you prepare a list of questions and concerns for each appointment; the doctors and nurses can't brush your questions aside easily, not when Lucifer is there to ensure that the answers you're given meet his satisfaction.

Later on, Lucifer provides updates to his siblings and your other friends who are keeping tabs on these developments. It's best that they're all aware of what to expect and so that they can help you prepare for what's to come.

In the days leading up to your surgery, everyone does their best to ease your nerves but do a poor job of hiding their own anxieties. It doesn't really register as a real thing that's about to happen until you get notification that your surgery is only a couple days away, and suddenly it feels very, very real.

Lucifer prepares for your long-term absence from RAD and makes sure that any of your obligations – your clubs or student council duties or your part-time job – are dealt with. He buys anything and everything the doctors recommended for your recovery once you return home. If any modifications are required for your bedroom or private bathroom, he plans to have those completed during your hospital stay. (He's grateful your room is already on the first floor of the house, although he would've built one for you if he needed to.)

Mammon and Levi spend as much time with you as they can when they're not busy with other things they try to keep secret: Mammon's new job so he has extra money to buy you get-well presents (bigger and better than all his brothers) and the games and movies Levi has been ordering since he anticipates your recovery will be boring. What better way than to pass the time (hopefully with him?). Satan wanted to go to your appointments with you but he kept grumbling things like, if someone cuts you open, I'm going to cut them open. He's been focusing his efforts on researching which sorts of potions, elixirs or spells might help you recover faster and obtaining the materials he needs for them.

Asmo took you shopping (more than once) to pick up the items on your pre-op checklist of things to bring with you to the hospital: comfortable loose-fitting clothing, slippers, basic toiletries like your toothbrush. Everything he picked for you wouldn't fit in three overnight bags, let alone the single duffel bag you planned to take with you. He just put everything in your dresser and closet and insisted they'd be useful once you were discharged and allowed to come back home.

Beel was curious about your diet recommendations when you come home and he realized that the spicy Devildom foods you like are probably going to be too difficult for you to eat for the foreseeable future . He spoke to Lucifer and Barbatos about his concerns, and they plan to stock the fridge and pantry with all the recommended foods that would ease your recovery and reduce the risk of complications later. Beel took you out for dinner one evening, as a sort of last hurrah. He felt guilty that he didn't realize how serious this was and he admires you for being so brave about something he can't imagine going through himself. He offered to follow your post-surgery diet with you as a show of support because he doesn't want to be insensitive and eat all the delicious foods you won't be able to.

Belphie gets a bit irritated that his brothers take up so much of your time leading up to your surgery date. If you've been feeling tired or unwell leading up to your surgery, you put on a brave face for their sakes but he knows better. He can't take away your pain or discomfort, and he certainly can't fix you the way these human world doctors claim they can, but he can help you relax after a long day of appointments and preparations and pretending you're not as nervous as they all are. He can sense your anxiety rising as the date of your surgery draws near: you're not sleeping as well as you used to, tossing and turning into the late hours of the night and showing up to breakfast looking worse than you did the morning before. Fortunately, that's something he can help you with. He leads you to the attic to sleep and tries not dwell on how long it'll be before after your surgery when you'll be able to climb those steps again. He lulls you into a comfortable, dreamless sleep so that you can as much rest as possible leading up to the big day.

The evening before your surgery, the brothers are practically vibrating from nervousness. Everyone seems on edge and distracted. Asmo ruins his eye makeup from getting teary-eyed and he's especially clingy. Dinner is awkward when the brothers remember that you can't eat your regular diet anymore. You're limited to bland fluids in addition to the jug of prep you need to drink. You drink the powder mixed with ice-cold water and gulp it down – after the first pouch, you disappear into your bedroom. Eventually you come back and rinse and repeat, drinking and refilling that jug until its as empty as you are. (Beel was curious and drank a bit of it despite your warning that he probably shouldn't – his stomach made the strangest sounds the rest of the evening.)

When it's time for bed, you expect to collapse onto your mattress and toss and turn until your early-morning alarm goes off. What you don't expect is for Lucifer and his brothers to lead to you his room with the giant bed that happens to be big enough for all of them. The mood feels somber and you can tell they're as nervous as you are – even Cerberus spends the night in Lucifer's room, lifting his heads up once in a while to check on you while he keeps guard at the foot of the bed. It's the Devildom's most awkward cuddle pile, but eventually you fall asleep surrounded by seven very worried demons who can't manage to sleep themselves.

THE HOSPITAL

Your alarm goes off early that morning – far too early for your liking, but you're eager to get this entire thing over with. Most of the brothers are already awake and finalizing preparations to accompany you to the hospital. You have time for a quick shower and toss on a comfortable shirt, sweatpants and slip-on shoes – you don't need to look good where you're going, and you won't be wearing these clothes for very long.

The others arrive so Barbatos can summon a portal for everyone to take. Despite your many reminders, everyone insists they want to come and support you, including your friends from Purgatory Hall and Diavolo himself.

(What you suspect but don't know for certain is that Diavolo arranged for your care in the human world hospital you'll be staying at. There were concerns about visitor limits and securing the largest and best private room for your recovery, but a generous donation from the Hotel Corvo corporation helped ease some of those administrative hurdles.)

You're only allowed one support person to accompany you to the surgical unit, so the others grab coffee and pre-packaged muffins and slowly make their way down to the waiting area. Lucifer – or whoever you asked to accompany you instead – sits with you while you wait for your name to be called.

Time passes in a blur. You put on a starchy hospital gown and housecoat while you tuck your belongings into a plastic bag and carry it with you. The nurses direct you to a chair and go over the standard medical questions you've answered a million times before. You look away when the IV goes in, and on the other side of you, warm fingers squeeze your hand.

You're tired and nervous and there are too many thoughts racing through your mind, but you sit in silence while the clock ticks down. You shuffle awkwardly down a sterile hall with too-bright lights when it's finally time, and you hope the smile you shoot over your shoulder at your companion is convincing. (It's as unsteady as you both feel when you disappear with the nurse who leads you to the operating room.)

Maybe it's the exhaustion or the empty, upset stomach distracting you while you sit on a table and ignore the cool fingers and pinching sensation in your back while they prepare the epidural because you barely feel it. You lay on a narrow table with a blood pressure cuff on one arm and your IV in another, and when the medications quickly pull you into a dreamless sleep, you feel a last-minute sense of comfort knowing that your friends are waiting close by and they won't let anything bad happen to you.

While you're in the OR, your friends make themselves comfortable in the visitor's lounge and they wait for news. Four hours, six hours, eight hours later – none of them want to leave until they can see you're alive and well with their own eyes. You warned them all it would be a long and boring day and they insisted they wanted to come no matter what.

Some of them fidget in their seats and pace when their nerves get the best of them. Levi's handheld beeps and the buttons click noisily as he plays his game, and Satan tries to focus on a paperback he picked up in the gift shop. Mammon spends way too much money buying Nevada tickets from a vendor in the hospital lobby (“It's for charity, ain't it?!”) and rubs it in Lucifer's face when he actually wins something. Asmo frets with embarrassment when he sees the SCENT-RESTRICTED FACILITY poster on the wall and covers the scent of his expensive fragrance with a dampening charm to avoid upsetting the staff (and makes note to skip the heavily-scented body products for future visits). Belphie accompanies Beel to sample the cafeteria's food, multiple times.

Throughout the day, small groups take turns leaving the waiting room to grab fresh cups of coffee or sandwiches to snack on. Diavolo and Barbatos confirm with the hospital staff that your private room is ready with the special amenities they requested for you, including a cot that an overnight guest can sleep on. You chose your preferred companion in advance, and none of the others dared voice their petty disappointment that they weren't chosen instead. What matters most is that one of them is with you at all times to assist you in your weakened state (they called it protecting you, but you tried to reassure them without success that they were being too dramatic). The others are free to visit as much as they like, as long as you're comfortable with it of course.

It feels like eternity before news reaches your friends as your surgery ends, and then another update a couple hours later when you're moved from PACU to your hospital room. The nurses have already gotten you settled into your accommodations by the time the first visitors hesitantly step inside to see you. Despite the preparations and expectations and warnings, they're still not prepared for the machine humming and beeping at your side as it pumps various medications through your IV. There's a remote looped around the bed by your arm that lets you administer more pain medication through your epidural.

It's gotten late and the surgical ward is quiet except for the ambient sounds of nurses chatting quietly at their station or other machines beeping in nearby rooms. Against the standard-issue hospital linens and the thin gown you wear, you look more vulnerable than they've ever seen you, their perfectly imperfect human who’s gone through so much in such a short amount of time. Perhaps it's a good thing that you're overcome with exhaustion and only have fleeting memories of your friends' worried faces when they each came to see you before bidding you goodnight with a promise to come back in the morning. Some struggle to contain their emotions more than others, and there's a collective understanding between all of them that perhaps they've taken you for granted because they never want to see you like this again – not if they can prevent it.

Your nighttime companion sits at your bedside most of the night and watches over you in case you show signs of discomfort or pain. They pull the cord to alert the nurses when you wake up queasy and you request something for your upset stomach with your scratchy voice and dry throat. You can't eat or drink yet, but the nurse leaves a small plastic cup of ice chips at your bedside – it's enough to remove the cottony feeling from your tongue and throat, and you can sleep once more.

Your demon friends aren't familiar with modern medicine and none of them know what the bags of fluids hanging next to your bed are. RINGERS scrolls across the screen of the IV pump but it’s anyone’s guess what it means. All they know is that it seems to be important as it’s one of the last medications you stop taking before your IV is eventually removed. Tonight and throughout the days that will soon follow, the machine beeps loudly – and often – when the bag runs dry. They remember which button to hit to turn off the awful alarm so that the disturbance doesn't wake you while they wait for a nurse to come with a replacement.

RECOVERY

The first few days are some of the most challenging, but all of your friends are there to support you as much as they can. At least one of them is present when the surgeon and his residents make their early morning rounds. You can't bear to look at the staples and incisions hidden under the thick dressings that cover a large part of your lower belly, but the surgeon and nurses all claim that things look fantastic. You can't help but snort at the odd feedback, and Asmo reminds you that there's plenty of creams that can help with minimizing those scars later, if you want them. (He prefers you exactly the way you are, scars and all, but he keeps his opinion on that subject to himself.)

Your post-surgery diet is severely restricted until you're able to tolerate basic fluids again, and solid foods are introduced slowly too. Beel reads over your daily menu selection and glares at the abysmal tray of hospital food that is delivered to your room. He tastes some of the dishes and wonders how they can make something as simple as broth or cream of wheat so unappealing. Barbatos sips the lukewarm mug of tea on your tray that you ignore with each meal; you warn him that it's not good, and the pain in your stomach is worth it when you shake with laughter at the offended grimace that sours his expression. He promises to bring you drinkable tea from now on, and he and Beel both bring acceptable alternatives to your hospital fare in accordance with your current meal plan.

One of the most challenging things you didn't expect – and it catches your friends off-guard too – is how difficult it is to get up and walking again. After a few days in bed with the epidural numbing you to the worst of the pain and being mostly stationary aside from some breathing exercises, it's time to get up and take the literal first step towards your journey home.

Your friends scoff at the idea of a physiotherapist coming to help you, until they hear the first cry of pain when you sit up on the edge of the bed and breathe heavily like it's the most ardious feat you've ever accomplished. It's another reminder that this was a tremendous thing for your delicate human body to go through, and even though they can't just take away your pain or fix things magically (no matter how much some of them might want to), they'll do what they can to help.

They don't tease you when they slip your shoes onto your feet, and they don't stare or ask about the various bags of fluids hanging from the IV pole you lean on for support while you shuffle your way around the ward one lap at a time. They match your pace and are ready in a moment's notice to support you if you lose your balance, and as soon as they sense you're pushing yourself just a little too hard, they help you back into bed where you fall asleep not long after.

Things carry on that way until the surgeon announces tentative plans for your release. By now, you're bored out of your mind and eager to be anywhere but in that bloody hospital room. Your friends are eager to have you home again, and the air is charged with excitement for the first time since your surgery. Everything you need for your recovery at the House of Lamentation – medications and supplies and your diet plan and anything else you could possibly need – are ready for you.

On the day you're finally discharged, they help scan your room to make sure all of your personal items have been packed away for the trip home. One of them carries your duffel bag for you while a couple others carry boxes filled with the numerous gifts, cards, and vases of flowers that filled nearly every available space of your room. (The human world flowers have started to wilt, but the arrangements from the Devildom and the Celestial Realm, including the bouquet you received one day with a note signed only with “M”, are still blooming flawlessly as ever.)

[fictionalmenobsessor]

RULES ─ MASTERLIST ─ REQ BOX

CW: gn reader*, mentions of divorce.

there is a part 2 in the vault with smut if you guys want it 🫣 (as this story is gender neutral, the daughter can be adopted or surrogated, if you wish to put it that way. but the next part will specify that the reader is afab)*

song for the chapter: intro (end of the world) - Ariana Grande

husband!Simon, who is gutted but understanding when you say you want a divorce. your relationship had taken a slow but scrutinising turn ever since you had your first kid.

the flame wasn’t there anymore, and you had gone into a depressive state due to the overwhelming pressure of having to take care of your daughter by yourself every time he got deployed to another country, then having to pray he would make it out alive.

ex-husband!Simon, who moves out in a matter of days after the talk, going to a small local motel so you had your space. you are devastated at the loss of warmth on the other side of the bed. although it wouldn’t have been any different if he stayed, as you had both been isolating yourselves for a while.

ex-husband!Simon, who comes around every weeks to check up on you and your child. making sure that everything was okay, which it wasn’t, but you had pulled yourself together to make sure you were there for her.

ex-husband!Simon, who still comes to parent-teacher interviews/conferences, resting a loving hand on your thigh as your daughter’s teacher talks about how much of an amazing student she is.

you expected nothing of it as it could’ve just been a natural instinct from him.

like how he still wore his ring………. every day…

right…………

ex-husband!Simon, who helps out in the kitchen one night, after dropping off your daughter at a sleepover; passing dishes back and forth, making sure to add lingering touches, to see if they were reciprocated, or if he should stop. and you just ignored them for the time being, not wanting to give him the time of day due to the state he left you in.

ex-husband!Simon, who is on your door step the night before the divorce is finalised.

“I’m not signing the papers.” He stated firmly.

Your brows furrowed at the sight of him on your doorstep this late at night; speechless, you just let out a scoff of surprise.

“What?” You asked him confused, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m not signing the papers,” He repeated, “I want to make this work.”

“You don’t get to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Waltz back into my life like it’s nothing,” You answered, “I wanted a divorce for a reason.”

“I’ll be better.” His gaze narrowed, “I’ll prioritise you and our daughter, I didn’t do a good job last time. But now, I’ll be there every step of the way, and support you.”

“I won’t leave you in the dark again. And if you’re lost, I’ll make sure to be the light.”

Your gaze softened as he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his chest.

“Please,” He whispered, “Can we try again?”

And just like that, the walls that you had built up to make sure you didn’t get hurt again, came crashing down.

[cheriecoke]

♰ skipping heartbeats — nanami kento

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 3 - curse user!nanami

nanami wants to see every jujutsu sorcerer dead, but he might make an exception just for you

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, sorcerer!reader, rough sex, slight overstimulation, begging, pet names, unprotected sex, villain nanami, jjk typical violence, tw mahito apperance :/, exes, angst, soft dom nanami, wall sex — 5.6k

He was never the same after Shibuya.

It's been two years, but you still remember that October with clarity. Memories blur at the back of your eyelids each night, carving images into your irises; each time you think you’ll get a full night of sleep, Nanami Kento returns to haunt your dreams, then lingers to steal your waking moments.

The change in him had been gradual, subdued. He’d hidden it well, so well, in fact, that everyone had believed that he was doing fine. Even you, the one who should’ve known him better than anyone, had never gotten him to reveal his darkest thoughts.

His succumb to madness was slow, but it was the consequence of a near decade. The burden of a sorcerer weighed heavily on everyone, but it hit Nanami the hardest, years and years of survivor’s guilt and misery bearing on his shoulders.

Then Halloween in Shibuya had happened; Nanami nearly lost his life, and something in him snapped. It wasn’t long after that he left. You haven’t seen him since.

Close to twenty-four months have passed since he disappeared, but his presence still lingers, twisting your world and your life into a den of chaos. No one is left at the school, and there are hardly any sorcerers left in Japan. Those who are still alive have moved anywhere but Tokyo, and those who stay know it won’t be long before they lose their lives too.

Your breath catches as you listen in silence, recounting every moment that led you here.

There is a scream from the other building, listlessly crying for help, but you won’t reach them in time, nor do you have the power to fight back. Despite your endless intelligence, your technique isn’t built for combat. It isn’t a threat to semi-grade one curses, and it certainly isn’t a threat to Nanami Kento.

You squeeze your eyes shut, slumping against the wall as you hold your arm, a bloodied wound seeping through your sleeve. There is no one here to heal you, no one left to help. Shoko moved away from the school months ago, once she realized that too many sorcerers are dying and Gojo is never coming back.

After that, many of the students left too; save for the few third years that had been determined to stay and fight.

The scream sounds again, before it’s cut off, abruptly. Another student gone. Another sorcerer dead.

You’d been such a fool to think you could take the place of people like Yaga, Gojo, Nanami; that you could bring together the last remaining sorcerers in the city. They’d been ones to look up to, strong and steadfast, but you are neither of those things.

You are the weak one who’d managed to stay alive, and the last person that probably should’ve.

Still, you persist, not giving into death so easily. There has to be an escape route; if you can’t save the students, maybe, just maybe, you can save yourself. There is still hope, as long as just one sorcerer is left in Tokyo. The school can be rebuilt, the curses can be exorcised, and things can go back to normal.

As long as you stay alive.

You listen, waiting for another sound before you move, attuned to your surroundings. The doors are shut, locking you in, and it’s too dark, too empty in the building for you to hide anywhere. Classrooms you’d once shared with Gojo open up like an endless chasm, the vending machine you got sodas from with Geto leers at you, and the hallways you’d kissed Kento in…

The memories are so soured.

You’re so close to the door, though. So close, and you can be free of the ghostly memories, and this time, you’ll leave Tokyo once and for all.

There is nothing left for you here now. With each day that passes, you start to realize more and more that no one is coming back. They’re all gone, and Nanami is not the man he’d once been.

You shuffle along the wall, trying to stay hidden in the shadows, away from the lights that flicker up above, destroyed by the veil of cursed energy. While your entire life has been a cacophony of evil, never before have you felt, so intensely, that you’re in a horror film. You are the final girl, ironically, without an ounce of heroine vigor.

All you have is a sliver of willpower to stay alive; just a few feet away, and you’ll be there, outside, able to escape from this pit of hell.

It’s so close—but not close enough.  

“There you are!” a voice cries out, ringing like a jovial song through the hallways. It is eerily familiar, much too high-pitched and enthusiastic for such a brutal warzone. “We’ve been looking for you.”

You turn, shoulders stiff as you try hard not to freeze. Behind you, a young curse stands casually, his blue hair rolling over one of his shoulders, a stitched face smiling at you evilly. He’s pleased to see you, that much is obvious, and he prances over to you, fingers waving in the air.

“Oh, I can’t wait! I have to make you last because we’re running out of sorcerors to play with!” The tone is horrifyingly amused, more frightening than Geto in his final hours, of any of the clan higher-ups, even of Gojo at his absolute worst.

It’s the tone of someone who feels nothing, who cares about nothing, and who will enjoy watching you bleed.

You open your mouth, throat dry as you scramble for words, for a way to defend yourself. Three seconds stretch out into a minute while you contemplate, but Mahito is already upon you, his eyes flashing with excitement.

This would be it, wouldn’t it? How poetic that this wretched curse would be the one to kill you, after he took everything from you two years ago.

He advances; but something stops him, another aura. It’s not as powerful, but it’s much more commanding, much more human.

“Mahito.” The tone is forceful, flat, without any nuance of sound. It comes from behind you, and you stiffen, knowing from the simple string of letters who it is. The sound of the voice has something unfurling in your chest, choking you, rendering you helpless. “Don’t touch her.”

“Why?” Mahito whines, curling his fingers around your hair, his cursed face and energy too close, too frightening for you to move. “There’s no one left to kill. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Find something.” Nanami’s to you in just a few steps, and you can feel his presence behind you, the voice that slowly sneaks up on you. He smells the same as he did back then, and you squeeze your eyes shut, try to remember that he’s not Kento anymore, and whoever he is, you don’t love him.

You can’t.

“I’ll take care of her.”

Mahito grumbles, but after a few seconds of staring down Nanami, he leaves, skipping off to some other corner of the school. It’s disgusting how pleased he is by the murders he’s committed, but why shouldn’t he be? If his goal is to rid the world of sorcerers, he’s done quite well at accomplishing it.

Which meant every one of your students is dead. Which meant any remaining sorcerers are gone for good. There isn’t a jujutsu sorcerer left in Tokyo but you, and even though you need to call for help, no one can get here fast enough to save you.

Nanami, slowly, comes around to glower before you, standing too close, his breath ghosting your shoulders. You feel his gaze like daggers, dragging over every inch of you, regarding you with a thinly veiled disgust.

You’re not ready to face him, not after all the time you’ve been apart, but you don’t have a choice. He’s in front of you within seconds, looking down at you from the bridge of his nose, his hair mussed, but still in the same style that he’d worn two years ago.

It is, really, the only thing about him that hasn’t changed.

“How the hell did you end up back here?” That’s the first thing he says, the tone crazed and so opposite of the flat inflection his voice had always held. The sound leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, and you twitch, trying to keep your expression from shifting. Not even a simple greeting before he’s already mocking you, judging your poor choices, the ones that will get you killed.

You say nothing, but regard him with a dry mouth, letting your eyes drift across his broad shoulders, down his chest. He’s covered in blood, stained deep maroon—evidence of his murders, the color so different than the gore of curses.

The old beige suit is gone, replaced by an expensive black one, tailored perfectly to every angle of his body. Nanami has traded in the blue button-up for a crisp burgundy one, and though the tie is different, it’s recognizable.

You’d gotten him that tie for his 28th birthday, one of black silk embossed with flowers, tiny white ones woven within the vines. You’d purchased it on your trip abroad.

It makes you sick. You’re not sure how long you can look at him without expelling the contents of your stomach.

“You know,” he says, not waiting for you to answer as he walks around, swinging his weapon that is now used for evil. “I thought that maybe when I left, you’d decide to do something with your life.” His irises that are now so dark, nearly black, pin you. Gone, too, are the old glasses, exposing his severe, narrowed eyes. “You stayed in Tokyo to rot.”

“What choice did I have?” you ask, wishing you could speak without your voice cracking. Yet, when Nanami stalks you like prey, calculating, the familiar blade in his hands, you feel a flare of fear start up in your stomach.

You don’t know the man before you. He’s beautiful, as handsome as you remember. Yet, he stares at you with disdain, and he’s cruel, so cruel. His lips are hardened into a permanent scowl, seeping through his merciless laugh.

“Well,” Nanami stops pacing and stands in front of you, running a hand down the side of the cursed tool, thoughtful. “I had hoped you’d come with me, but I knew better than to ask. Your moral convictions would have prevented that, darling.” A smile drips with poison as your steadfastness falters, the name sliding smoothly off his tongue, something about it still so sweet, even with his malice. “You always were too good for me.”

That isn’t true, at least, not in your mind. He had been a good man once, the very best. Maybe you could’ve done something to stop this, to help him. Yet, as many times as you run it over in your mind, even you can’t pinpoint the exact moment he’d fallen.

“You’re right,” you say, grateful that your voice sounds a little stronger, a little harder. “I never would’ve come with you. You’ve killed our friends. You’ve killed children, Nanami.”

Something shifts between you; his eyes widen as he takes another pace forward, nothing but inches separating you. Against every intelligent cell in your body, your heart skips, breath catching at his proximity.

“Nanami?” he asks, eyebrows pulling together with a sigh. The air grows stagnant around you as he notices the lack of warmth behind your apathetic eyes. “Here I thought you’d still call me by my name. We did once share a bed after all.”

“That means nothing to me now,” you spit, wishing he would stop staring at you with such hunger. You’ve never been immune to him, and you’re not sure you are now, not sure that you won’t waver at his feet, if even out of panic. He’s so solid before you, a resolute being of power. Perhaps he’s even stronger now than he was before. “Look at you. I don’t know who you are.”

Nanami points the sword at your throat, and though it’s blunt, not sharp enough to do any damage, you still weaken in the knees, stare back at him with something akin to dread. Your eyes are wide, but your breath comes out steady as your hands shake by your sides.

“I’m the person who decided to do something, finally.” Nanami raises his voice, every word punctuated by years of repressed anger. “Sorcerers grumbled for decades, centuries, but no one made any effort to make a change.” His jaw clenches as he drops the weapon back down, sniffing with abhorrence. Nanami’s in your personal space, his breath hot on your cheeks, and you feel tears well up in your eyes, even when you’re not sure why. “Even Gojo Satoru, who claimed to hate the higher-ups, who saved Yuuji Itadori, did little. I’m the person who realized that nothing’s going to change, not unless the system is burned from the inside out.”

A twitch starts from your heels, rising as he glares down at you. His features are tense, every muscle in his body taut. Still, there’s something about him. There’s something about the way he’s wearing the tie you once bought him, as familiar as the tall, strong frame that leers over you.

“There’s none of us left, Nanami,” you say, blinking away those tears, even though he’s already spotted them, the corner of his lips quirking with a crazed glint to his eyes. “You’ve made sure of that.”

“Then a new order of sorcerers can build its way from the ground up.” Nanami leans forward, his face near yours as he cocks his head. “I’ve succeeded.”

You squeeze your fingers into your shirt, twisting them around the stiff cotton tightly. Your heel slips just one inch back, away from him, and the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by your ex-lover.

He scoffs, a smirk widening.

“What’s wrong?” Nanami says. A veiny hand snakes between you, and he cups your cheek with a softness that goes against every fiber of what he stands for. “Are you afraid of me?”

Your lips part, but words don’t come out. Instead, you blink up at him with glossy eyes, your heart hammering in your chest.

“You probably should be,” he continues, his fingers brushing your jaw, luring you in, a security blanket that he will snatch away once you get comfortable. “I’ve ruined your life.”

The room feels colder than it did before, as terror starts pressing down on you, your entire body shaking with anxiety. Still, your eyelids flutter at his touch, every cell within you reacting out of muscle memory, weakened by the killer’s touch.

“A life that you once promised to protect.”

He smiles, and it’s so cold, a rival only to the devil's, even though it ignites a flame in your chest. “Why do you think I saved you for last?”

Your eyes burn with tears.

“Still as pretty as I remember,” Nanami hums on the edge of a sigh, and his gaze darts all over your face, searching for a secret buried there. His tone is rough, but, somehow, there’s an ounce of affection there too, like a part of him is still holding onto the near decade you were together. It’s no consolation, but it gives you some satisfaction; at least it meant something. “You have a new boyfriend?”

You turn hot all over at the way he grins at you, watches the flush form on your face as your eyes fly open. Nanami has you in the palm of his hand, easily, and whatever happens, it’ll be up to him. “N-no,” you stutter, his thumb sliding over your mouth, knocking against your teeth.

His grin is wild, predatory. “I knew I’d ruined you for anyone else.”

A breath catches in your throat, and your chest rises and falls heavily from the wave of desire that goes straight to your stomach. You feel as if your knees might give out, that you might need to grab onto him, just to stand upright.

It’s sickening, and you hate yourself, hate how much you want him, even though he’s the one that killed the people you care most about.

“Kento?” you ask in a small voice. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I don’t know.” He softens, just a hair, and easily, he’s back to the man you remember, the sweet, caring one you thought you’d marry one day. “I probably should… but I think I might just fuck you instead.” The words are muttered against your lips, and you stumble forward, gripping his strong biceps, a feeble attempt to keep from puddling at his feet.

His face clears once again, stoic, and harsh. Maybe it’s all a ploy to get you in his arms, to weaken you even further, but you don’t care. You’ve missed him, you’ve missed him so much, and you’d die to kiss him one more time. The blood on his face doesn’t matter; nothing matters except how much you once loved him, the love that never went away, even in the times you wanted to hate him.

You wonder whether or not Satoru would sympathize if he was here. Maybe he’d understand why you never went after Nanami and holed yourself up in the school instead. Although you tried to protect your students, you could never act out of violence, and that had cost you everything.

You know you've made mistakes, perhaps more than anyone, but you can’t control your heart; it’s a heart that is caged by steely ribs, and still the possessor of your fragile mind.

“Kento,” you say, running your hands all over him, the muscles that have only hardened, grown with time. “I miss you.”

It’s nothing more than a whisper, but it still changes his entire demeanor, turns him into something desperate. Kento comes on twice as strong; every caress sends a wave of need through you. When you whimper, toppling under his gentle touches, he kisses you hard, pushes you backwards into the wall.

The taste of his lips is almost too much, a conflict of memories piling onto you, transporting you into a version of yourself that is two years younger, much more hopeful. You kiss him like you’re twenty-two, unsharpened by the world, because despite what you have suffered, life was better seven years ago than it is now.

The illusion is short-lived, though; Kento is rougher than he used to be, and he shoves you hard, bruises your lips. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, sloppy kisses smearing saliva all over your cheeks.

He may not be as kind as he once was, but you’ll never be able to deny your attraction for him.

“Fuck.” Kento unzips his slacks, palming at the bulge that already lies within the tight material. “Look what you do to me, baby.” It catches you off guard; he’s never called you that before, never sounded so lewd instead of loving. “Think I started getting hard the second I saw you. Remember the last time I was inside you?”

You groan against his lips, breathing heavily as you thread your smaller hands in his hair. He tastes like alcohol, and you know that he’s always enjoyed a drink, but it was never this prominent on his tongue. That observation alone makes you wonder what else about him has changed; if he sleeps on the same side of the bed now that you’re gone, if he likes to read just as much as before, if he still takes his coffee with just a splash of milk.

The thoughts hurt, searing a hole through your chest. You try to ignore them.

As you kiss, Kento manhandles you backwards, his fingers spread over your collarbones. Your back hits the wall, a ghoulish crack reverberating throughout the room. It hurts, but the pain is outweighed by the feeling of him all over your body, the sheer anticipation for him to touch you like you need.

“Want you,” you say, as his hands clamp around your delicate wrists, pinning them against the wall. Kento’s palms are so much bigger; he’s so strong that it’s devastating. You have no choice but to let him take from you, to kiss down your neck and leave a bruise you won’t be able to cover up in the morning. “Please.”

“Dirty girl,” he laughs, breathless against your throat, the sound vibrating against the strained tendons there. Hastily, he spins you around, forces your face into the wall, your chest pressed into it. Your cheek is cold, smashed into your bone against the plaster. “I’ve killed everyone in this building, and here you are, begging me to touch you.”

The rough tone sends desire coursing through you, and you cry out against the wall as arousal bleeds out of you. Kento kisses you, across your shoulders, his cock pressing up against you, hard and thick.

A groan releases into your ear, and you squirm, rubbing your thighs together in anguish. Begrudgingly, Kento lets one of your wrists go so that he can drag your skirt down, leaving you with shivering legs in the cool October evening.

You reach back to grab at him, desperately needing him inside of you; but he stills you with his hand, laughing eagerly into your skin.

“So impatient. Thought I taught you better than that.” Though, he drags your panties down quicker, lets them pool at your ankles along with the dark-colored skirt. It’s obvious he wants you just as much; he wastes no time dragging a hand down his cock, the tip already beginning to leak.

“Kento,” you say against the cold wall, throbbing, swallowing down all your need for him. It’s too dark for you to see every one of his pretty features, but his shadowy eyes gleam ruthlessly in the moonlight. “Let me kiss you again—”

Kento tsks and shakes his head, brushing your hair over one shoulder. “Now, that can’t happen. You’ll fall in love with me again too easily.” A laugh forces its way out of his chest, and you hate that the sound creates pressure in your body. You’re already in love with him, but his grip is too tight on you; you can’t kiss him, even though you want to.

A finger runs between your folds as Kento reaches between your legs, gathering slick in the process. His skin is cold, and you whimper; he used to be so warm, a natural furnace. Yet, he’s teasing you now, listening to your breathy little whispers as you lean back into him.

Without thinking, you grasp his hand with your own, slide it forward as the veins and tendons flex under your palm. This time, he complies; he lets you push his fingers into your cunt, much thicker and longer than your own.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, full of scornful sympathy, so contrary to the soft kisses on your neck. “You’re soaked. Have you really missed me that much?”

Your breath grows hot, heavy as he sinks his fingers deeper into you. You think about how much you loved him two years ago, and how much you still do.

Everyone you care about is gone, everyone but him. Perhaps Kento is the only one who’s truly ever mattered, because even if you’d been asked to kill him, you never would’ve done it, never could’ve; you’re not strong enough.

That’s where you and Satoru differ.

Kento slides his fingers in and out, stretching you, brushing against your swollen clit that’s begging to be touched by him. He bites down hard on your shoulder, blooms a bruise there and marks you as his forever, even if you’d never be anyone else’s anyways.

Already, you feel your climax building; you’re breathing heavier, crying out his name in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like your own. “I’m c-close,” you manage, and that is the wrong thing to say. He stills all at once and slips his fingers out of you, a web of arousal smeared over his knuckles.

Between your legs, you’re sticky, cold, but you barely notice. Your attention is directed on how aching and empty you are when his hands leave your body.

With a whine, you force your hips backwards, hating the chill that surrounds you all at once. “I wanna cum—”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Kento smiles against your neck and drags his cock against the small of your back, swollen and hard. “But I know you can ask much nicer than that.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, “please, Kento, please, please, I need you, I—”

“There’s my good girl.” A breathy laugh leaves him as he angles the tip against your entrance, slow, pressing into you. “Fuck,” Kento groans, loudly, drawing out the syllables. “Squeezing me so tight, baby, you’ve been waiting just for me?”  

“Ken—” you say, and it’s all you can manage, the little nickname that no one’s ever called him but you. Kento buries himself inside you, his hot, muscular chest pressing into your back, pinning you against the cold wall. He’s so much bigger and wider, and his body encases you, shielding you from the agony that he’s dealt with his own hand.

You’re not sure if you can stand on your own — not under the weight of your solid and forceful affection for him.

“I know, I know," he says to the sweet sounds that escape you. "I’ve got you.”

Kento reaches around and cups your breast, squeezing hard. His thumb flicks over your nipple, the nail dragging against it cruelly as he swirls over the padded bra. Still, his blanketed touch is electrifying; your fingers curl into the wall, smooth, clawing without anything to grab onto.

He fucks into you, slowly, his strained cock rough against your walls. It’s just as you remember, and you long for your old life, wishing that there was a sorcerer out there whose technique could somehow turn back time. Then, you’d do something different, even if you’re not sure what.

With each thrust, his speed increases, hitting deeper and deeper inside you. Kento’s groans are so pretty, and tears roll down your cheeks at the feeling of him within you, surrounding you, the man you still touch yourself to at night, even when he’s a cold-blooded killer.

“It’s been a while since anyone’s fucked you like this, hm?” Kento says, cooing, almost sorry, even if he doesn’t realize how true that is. You feel dizzy with him, the sound of his syrupy voice, so deep and invigorating. “Need to cum so bad, don’t you, pretty?”

“Please,” you say, and you almost tell him you love him, almost let it slip, even though it can’t. This is nothing, this is nothing, this is nothing, you try and tell yourself, but you’re too distracted by the sounds, the utter sin that you’ve committed here in this school.

You’ve betrayed everyone, and you’re still betraying them now, your weak heart nothing but a burden.

Kento says your name, groans it around your ear as he presses harder into your body. His cock angles upwards, forces itself past your aching walls, and, he’s buried in you completely. There’s a lingering sting, a bitter pain, but Kento feels like home. Your stomach tightens, bursting with energy.

“You’re so perfect, aren’t you? So beautiful. Always take it like you were made for my cock,” he groans, and you suck him right back in, clamping around him tightly. “I missed this pretty pussy; maybe as much as I missed you.”

Tears well up in your eyes then, and you sob, reach around to grab his hair. You need to feel him all around you, remember what it was like for him to love you in return.

He hits a spot within you, and you arch into him, crying, a mess between your legs and on your face.

“There?” Kento says, but he already knows the answer, grinning as he kisses your cheek, your temple. “How could I ever forget the sweet sounds you make when you’re about to cum.”

You press his head closer, feel him kiss your neck again, softer this time, lovingly. He runs a delicate hand across your ribcage, your stomach. “You going to let go for me, angel? Surprised you lasted this long after two years. Think my sweet girl deserves it.”

“K-kento,” you whisper, but his name doesn’t get far; it’s cut off by your moan as he rips the orgasm from you, and you clench around him tightly, shaking.

“That’s it,” he says and shudders, grunting as he forces out the words. Your body jerks involuntarily into him as you slump against the wall, trapped between it and Kento. Already, you’re so sensitive, and your tears don’t stop falling as he pushes his cock into you again and again.

Kento’s heart is heavy within his chest, pounding against your back. You feel sick, helpless, missing him endlessly, even with him right at your fingertips. You can’t believe that you’ve lasted two years without him; how can you survive a lifetime?

“Take me with you,” you plead, your eyelids fluttering close as you try and remember the feeling of him, memorizing it in case this is the last time. “Please.”

“Can’t do that, sweetheart.” Kento jerks back into you, forcing your cheek further against the wall. His hand is stiff against your head, even though he strokes your hair gently, encouraging. “I’m supposed to kill you, remember? I’m supposed to rid the world of every last sorcerer.”

“I need you, Kento,” you cry, feeling close to another orgasm already. Tears are running down your cheeks, your lips wet with spit as your mouth parts. “Just like it was before. I love you; I love you so much, I’ll be so good, I’ll—”

Kento groans your name and cums inside you, thick ropes painting your insides. It’s too much, everything about this is too much, and you’re squeezing him again, painfully sensitive as you orgasm once more.

Nonsense spews from your lips, and you grab at him in desperation as he finally drags out of you, the absence of him shattering you completely. Your inner thighs are sticky and wet, and his cum drips down your thighs, leaving you nothing more than a cold, ruined mess.

Kento shushes, soothes you with sounds that are closer to taunts as you spin around, grab at him, claw at his wrinkled red shirt. There’s still blood on his face, but even then, you accept him; you’ll forgive him for every wrongdoing he’s committed if he lets himself love you once more.

“I want to go with you,” you say, and though his face is hard, he’s caressing your cheek with an opposite sort of touch, sadness in his weary eyes.

“I know you do,” he says, and there’s a conflict within him as his features contort. It’s the only evidence that maybe, deep down, he cares about you still. “But I’m not the man you want. Not anymore.” It’s a whisper, a prayer, and goodbye.

You nearly slap him as he straightens, inches away from you. You feel that you’ve been pushed into a pit of inky chaos, left soaked and naked from the way down, humiliated. Your cheek is red from where it was pressed into the textured paint, stinging from the pressure.

“Kento, please,” you beg, and he takes a step back, hardening his eyes. “You can’t leave me again. I’d rather die. I’d rather you kill me.”

You’re not sure which of the statements snaps him back into himself once more.

Kento blinks, then lets a cold smile filter onto his face, one that lingers darkly on every corner of his expression. A smear of blood remains on his sharp cheekbone, and he wipes it clear, grazing his eyes along your body in a way that makes you feel so small. You’re nothing to him, then; even though you had been once.

“Oh, I decided I won’t kill you this time,” he says, pushing his hair back into place as his spine goes rigid, straightening like a marionette string. “I want to make sure I have a pretty girl to come back to every now and again.”

“What?” It leaves you forcefully, and you’re choking in shame, because you hope the words are true. You can’t stand a life without Nanami Kento, even if that life is nothing more than seeing him in the cracks of moonlight, the shadows where no one knows he’s lurking. You’d take that before a lonely existence, void of the sweet lips of the devil that you pray to.

“I’ll leave Tokyo,” you shout, red-faced and teary eyed, your words nothing more than empty threats. “I’ll leave the country. You’ll never find me.”

Nanami grins, laughs at you coolly, a sound that chills you to the core. “Oh, I’d find you.”

You don’t have time to formulate a response. A breath forces its way out of you, but the wretched curse reveals itself from the corner of the room, stopping any words from escaping your lips. His eyes hungrily roam every inch of you, lingering on the lower half of your exposed body; you wonder how long he’s been there, watching, not saying a word.

“Are you done yet?” Mahito asks, dragging his lurid gaze away to face Nanami. “You’ve had your fun, let’s kill her now.”

Nanami’s eyes flash. “Leave her,” he says, scoffing. “She’s already as pathetic as it gets. Killing her won’t make a difference.” He spits the words coldly, and turns, following the curse out of the room

tags: @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346 @annoyingpainterprincess

I GOT SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS ONE SHDHFHS

KINTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

[rikosseen]

Gun Park x Reader: Creep

Anon ask | fighter fem reader

Jonggun Park has plenty on his plate already. He’s a busy man with a list to tick off. A busy man whose time is precious and not easily given out.

Though, as he continues to mindlessly carve the wood in his hands, said man can’t help but feel neurotic and excited when recalling what happened a few nights ago. His skin pricks, and a ticklish shiver runs through his body. What’s got him feeling so giddy? Must be the nicotine crashing his system. But no, the cause for his malfunction is an individual. One that momentarily captured both his time, and pride. An individual who Jonggun Park could not keep his mind off.

After all, Park Jonggun doesn’t get his ass whooped. He’s the one whooping ass. Park Jonggun doesn’t miss his calculated attacks. Definitely not to some no name rando. Park Jonggun is quite literally built too different to be thrown off. This makes you a threat, right? You were a threat, right? It’s worth finding out more about you, right? Right. This was all for a bigger cause. For the greater good of…everything. Yes, that’s right. The greater good of everything. So away Jonggun goes to scour you.

.

.

After turning the city of Seoul upside down (and making unneeded threats), he suddenly and coincidentally (as coincidental as this can get) lands his eyes on the person he’s been searching for.

Found you.

Junggoo pokes his head out from behind Gun, lowers his shades, and squints to take a better look. Of course Goo kim was in on finding out who piqued the pervert’s interest.

“You got beat by her? Embarrassing!” The blonde snickers, looking over at Jonggun to see his reaction. Gun, attention still on your moving figure, punches him in the face and tells him to fuck off. To which Goo scowls as he staggers back. Jonggun quickly jogs after you, and steps on Goo’s foot on the way.

“It’s illegal to stalk people! Fucking weirdo!” Goo squawks, rubbing his bruised cheek.

How hypocritical. Jonggun brushes him off as he eagerly paces behind you.

Found you, found you, found you.

The weather was great for a run. It was early in the morning, and- huh? Footsteps? This early? Johan! You snap your head around to acknowledge who you think is your bestie boo, Johan Seong running beside you. Only, it’s not your bestie boo. It’s a more repulsive sight. A familiar face. A face you encountered once, but obviously didn’t quite forget, because well, this man hit you. Punched your nose for having relations with bestie boo Johan. How dare he hit a lady. What’s his deal with being a Johan hater anyway? You scowl, and he grins. You speed up, and he matches your pace. You turn and try to ankle break him, but he does the same. So you stop running completely and stare up at him. Jonggun looks down, and before he’s even aware, the man is sweeped off his feet. He grabs your foot, and you land on the ground next to him with an oof.

“What is wrong with you?!”

He grins that ugly grin again.

“Fucking creep,” you spit out.

Oh, and this man is indeed a creep. Jonngun Park stands up, and proceeds to take off his shirt. You look at him, bewildered. What in the world?-

“Let’s go again,” he says.

Again? Oh.

.

.

Classes are done, and you mentally groan at all the work you have to finish off for school. Home sweet home, here I come- Is that? It’s him. Your stomach drops.

Jonggun Park is standing right infront of your school gate, eyes darting from student to student until they land on yours. Is this a police worthy report? Again, the man grins his ugly grin and walks toward you.

“Let’s go again-” you don’t even let him finish, scampering away in hopes to lose him in the crowd of students.

.

.

Today’s sparring session went extremely well, and-

“Let’s go again,” the creep is in front of your gym, shirt off, and that stupid, stupid grin plastered on his face. “You know, ever since since that night-”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” you throw a combination of punches that send him tumbleweeding across the street before running away in frustration.

.

.

Slowly, you poke your head out the door, looking left and right. There’s no way he knows where you work. Once the coast seems clear enough, you walk out, and keep your head down. Footsteps follow you. Oh God, please no.

“Let’s go again-”

You start sprinting away, and want to scream. Screw Johan for being friends with you, and screw this guy.

I don’t deserve this, you mentally sob

[callsigns-haze]

Could you write a Tyler Owens x reader where he's helping the reader calm down from an intense school moment. Like in college for a tough major (architecture would be cool lol, not biased at all; maybe focusing on better built homes for tornados) and it's like the first day of classes and it's chaos already.

Study Stress

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Warnings: Study stress, crying, emotional turmoil

A/N: I study architecture so trust me I have 11 projects going on currently and I sit in tears

The first day of classes at the College of Architecture was supposed to be exciting—a fresh start, a new challenge. But as the hours ticked by, Y/N felt the weight of the day pressing down on her, each class piling on more expectations and responsibilities. The chaotic buzz of students around her, the endless syllabi full of demanding projects, and the looming deadlines were enough to make her head spin.

By the time her last class ended, Y/N was completely overwhelmed. The idea of spending the next several years in this intense environment, working on complex designs and innovative solutions, seemed daunting. And to top it all off, her focus on tornado-resistant homes—a passion project born from personal experience—only added to the pressure. The stakes felt incredibly high, and it seemed like everyone else was already miles ahead.

Dragging herself back to her apartment, Y/N tried to hold it together. But as soon as she closed the door behind her, the floodgates opened. She slid down to the floor, her back against the door, tears spilling down her cheeks. The stress, the anxiety, the fear of failure—it all came crashing down at once.

She didn’t hear the door open or Tyler’s footsteps approaching. She was too lost in her thoughts, in the panic that was rising inside her. But when she felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her into a warm, comforting embrace, she finally exhaled.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay,” Tyler’s voice was soft, soothing, as he gently rocked her. “I’ve got you.”

Y/N buried her face in his chest, her sobs muffled against his shirt. “It’s too much, Ty. It’s only the first day, and I’m already falling apart. How am I supposed to do this?”

Tyler didn’t respond right away. Instead, he just held her, letting her cry, letting her get it all out. He knew better than to try and fix things with words right now. Sometimes, you just needed to let the storm pass on its own.

After a few minutes, when her breathing started to even out, Tyler pulled back just enough to look at her, his hand gently brushing a few stray tears from her face. “You don’t have to do it all at once, you know,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “You’re going to take it one step at a time, one class at a time, one project at a time. And I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way.”

Y/N sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “But what if I can’t do it? What if I’m not good enough?”

“You’re more than good enough,” Tyler replied firmly, his eyes meeting hers with unwavering confidence. “You’re smart, passionate, and driven. You care about what you’re doing, and that’s half the battle right there. The rest… well, it’s just practice. You’ll get better, you’ll get stronger, and you’ll learn how to handle the pressure.”

Y/N wanted to believe him, but the doubt still lingered. “I’m so scared of failing.”

Tyler’s expression softened, and he took her hands in his, squeezing them gently. “Failure isn’t the end of the world, Y/N. It’s just part of the process. And you’re not in this alone. You’ve got your classmates, your professors, and you’ve got me. I’m not going to let you go through this by yourself.”

She looked into his eyes, finding comfort in the steady, reassuring gaze that had always been her anchor. Tyler was her calm in the storm, the person who could steady her when everything else felt like it was spiraling out of control.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded, feeling a little more centered. “Okay… one step at a time.”

Tyler smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “That’s my girl. Now, how about we take the rest of the day off? We can order some takeout, watch a movie, and just relax. The work will still be there tomorrow.”

The idea of taking a break sounded like exactly what she needed. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

“Good,” Tyler said, helping her up from the floor. He kept his arm around her as they moved to the couch, where he pulled a blanket over them both. As they settled in, Y/N felt the tension slowly leaving her body, replaced by a sense of warmth and security.

With Tyler by her side, she knew she could face whatever challenges came her way. And for now, that was enough.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

[distantdarlings]

EXPOSED // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.4K WORDS

Theodore Nott x AFAB!Gender Neutral Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* You were born with giant wings reminiscent of an Angel’s. Though you weren’t technically one, Theodore Nott couldn’t help but compare you to and treat you like one.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! PIV (not super specified though due to GN!Reader), Oral Sex (GN!Reader Receiving), Top!Theo, Bottom!Reader, very slight voyeurism (if you squint), Reader has wings (with sexual feeling), language (lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Haunted - BEYONCÉ

- - -

By the time you arrived back at your dormitory every day, your shoulders were so sore, you were ready to just knock yourself out. The continuation of your shoulders as they spread out past your body and out into the air cramped constantly when you performed that concealment spell you’d been forced to learn the moment you started school.

Even being the minority compared to the whole world, the student body at Hogwarts were not always the most accepting of different people–especially when you had enormous whitened wings that stretched out widely above your head. Spread out completely, they reached nearly ten feet across. They were your greatest inconvenience, but also your greatest love. There was little you took better care of than your wings. They were strong and white like new teeth–not perfectly pearly, but not as dingy as some of the other fliers you’d met.

You could remember when you were younger, when your father—who was also a flier—had taken you to meet some of your distant family near where they lived at the top end of the world.

There, it was freezing all year-round and the majority of the community adorned wings just as tall and strong as yours, if not moreso. You were jealous that you were always expected to hide your wings away from the world—even as a little one—when your father had been able to spread his as far as he wanted to, wherever he wanted to.

It had left a bit of a dent on your self-esteem, always having to hide a large part of yourself to fit in with others. But, as you aged, you’d come to accept it for what it was. Besides, everytime you visited your family on holiday breaks, both you and your father would take long flights early in the morning when the sun had not yet risen above the horizon and had only settled deep within the sky’s cover of clouds.

Flying with your father like that was some of your favorite memories. You were certain it wasn’t as enjoyable for him, simply because he rarely hid his wings. For you, it was as if you were stretching out joints that had been cramped up for years. Still, you were grateful for those little moments.

With a tilt of your head in each direction to relieve any built-up tension, you began to undress. You let your robe slide down your arms and into the floor. Then, you loosened your tie, undid the buttons on your shirt, and pulled your bottoms down your legs, allowing them all to fall away and into the same pile with your robe.

You whispered the reversal of the concealment spell that you had used so many times before, and closed your eyes. The warmth of magic circled your back, spreading heated tendrils in and around your wings. You could feel the feathered things slowly rising to life. You sighed in relief at the sensation, letting every joint within them pop aloud.

With a yawn, you reached your arms over your head and stretched hugely, letting your wings mimic the movements. You groaned, relieved that you were finally able to let them loose.

The only reason you weren’t frightened to let them out in your dormitory was because none of your roommates would be back until later on this evening. Every year, you purposefully planned your schedule accordingly so you’d have a few hours to yourself in the dorm room, specifically so you could have your wings out.

The only other times you were able to have them out besides when you were flying with your father on vacation, was when you were completely alone in the bathrooms or when the curtains were pulled shut around your bed. Other than that, they were tightly and magically adhered against your spine.

You weren’t sure exactly how the spell worked but it didn’t hurt until the sixth or seventh hour of having it applied. At that point, you’d be getting sore. Maybe the spell actually did fold your wings together… Hm, you weren’t sure. According to your father, there were no lasting effects of the spell on your wings or your ability to fly. But, still, it made you a bit nervous to think about.

With a small sigh, you bent over to gather up your crumpled up clothes. You tossed them into the dirty laundry hamper slid up against the end of your bed and prepared yourself to preen your wings. It had been entirely too long since you’d tended to them. You could hardly pride yourself on the care you gave them if you weren’t going to keep up with their cleaning schedule.

You settled yourself on the edge of your bed where the curtains were separated. The cold satin duvet slid against your naked legs. The fabric of your bottoms kept your hips warm as you pulled your preening comb from the small bedside dresser.

You crossed your legs and pulled the length of your left wing as far as it would go, across your thighs. The soft feathers cascaded over your skin as you began to meticulously comb at them, ensuring that every single one was treated.

Oftentimes, you’d sink into a sort of daze as you handled your preening—one filled with straying thoughts and light hums here and there. You’d found that, in the past, you became sort of deaf to the real world as you worked. Your focus was so intense that you didn’t hear little sounds, like that of a quiet door opening behind you.

And this time, your humming was just loud enough, and your combing was just distracting enough that you heard nothing as an intruder pushed the dormitory door open and slipped inside. And you didn’t hear the small gasp he let out as he saw your glorious wings. And you didn’t hear the confusion rattling through his brain as he was certain that this was the room his friend told him to meet her in to pick up his books. And you certainly didn’t hear his light footsteps as he creeped up behind you, so curious as to what he was looking at.

He’d never seen something so beautiful and majestic, except on some of the long extinct, mythical creatures he studied in class.

Though he had some inkling of self control, he couldn’t stop himself from approaching you ever so slowly, fingers outstretched and wanting desperately to touch your wings. They had to be fake, right? Some kind of costume?

Still, he couldn’t resist. It was as if your wings had cast some kind of spell on him, dragging him in so severely. He needed to touch them.

Then his fingers were brushing against the soft curtain of feathers, feeling the way the edge of his skin tingled. You gasped sharply and turned without thinking of your nearly nude body.

You made eye contact with a boy you’d recognized much too quickly. Your wings shot across your body to conceal your naked skin.

“Theo! What are you doing here?” you gasped, trying to back away from him and farther up your bed.

“I was coming to pick up some books…” his words trailed off. He appeared dazed and completely fixated on your wings. You couldn’t help but be frightened at what he might say. This was exactly the horrifying moment you’d been having nightmares about since you were young.

“May I touch them again?” he breathed, finally tearing his eyes away. He looked at you, his lips parting.

“What?” you asked, completely in shock. You were surprised that he wasn’t entirely disturbed by the sight before him. All your life, you’d been taught to hide them from people who wouldn’t understand—which just happened to be nearly everyone. You’d imagined the things that would be said once you were exposed a million times over, but you never imagined they’d be things of wonder and awe.

Still, Theo stared at you with nothing but amazement. His cheeks were dusted with pink flecks and his eyes shone with the light seeping through the windows. Suddenly, you found your wings relaxing a bit.

“Er…yes…I suppose you can,” you said, unsure of your words. Your voice trembled ever so slightly with the breaths quickly filling your lungs than pushing out.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, seeming to snap out of his daze slightly. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. It’s just…they’re beautiful. I’ve never seen something so angelic.” He chuckled at his use of the last word. You were shocked. Never, had you been compared to your separate winged counterparts. Angels were real, but you weren’t exactly flitting about Heaven. You just had wings. Descended from Angels? Perhaps. But not an Angel.

“You’re not frightened of them?” you squeaked, knees clutched tightly against your chest.

“Frightened?” he laughed breathlessly. “Why would I be? They’re incredible.”

You laughed a bit. You didn’t even know what to say. This was going nothing like how you’d always expected it to, and that was a very good thing. And, how much more perfect could you have hoped it would go, than if Theodore Nott—one of the most gorgeous boys in school—was calling you beautiful amongst it all. You could’ve cried.

Slowly, you extended your right wing out to him, while still keeping your body covered with your left. Mesmerized, you watched as he curled his fingers in and around the feathers. It was a light, easy touch—almost like a tickle. The feathers themselves didn’t really have any sensation, just what was pulled from the follicle when it was tugged on a bit.

If you accidentally pulled one out, it only felt like pulling a hair out of your scalp, except for when you got closer to where they sprouted from your back. They were a bit more sensitive up there, as if you were pulling multiple hairs out at once. Other than that, they didn’t really have much of a feeling, besides when they were sore from being cooped up.

At least, that’s what had been your reality for the entirety of the time you’d been on earth, until Theodore Nott waltzed in and wrapped his long fingers around a handful of feathers and tugged at them.

At the feeling of him grabbing on to them and clenching his knuckles until they turned white, you noticed that an uncomfortably familiar sensation pooled rapidly into your stomach. The edges of your vision dripped with black ink spots and your lips fell open in a gasp.

At your reaction, he let go just as quickly as he’d gripped them and backed away. “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?”

“N-no,” you panted. “Just let me catch my breath.” The remnants of the pleasure that had built in your stomach melted downwards. Heat circled between your legs, provoking more desire.

“Did it hurt?” he asked once more, head dipped down towards you and genuinely concerned.

“No, it felt… really good, actually,” you gasped.

“What, like a massage or something?” he asked. You said nothing—just glanced up at him, then back at the ground. Unsure if he was getting the memo or not, you dropped your outstretched wing into a more comfortable position and cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Er, maybe it’d be best if you—”

“Wait, I’m sorry. Please don’t make me leave. I’d love to touch you again. I won’t do that again, though.”

Your eyes met his again, confusion swirling in your mind. “Well, I’m not a zoo exhibit. I’d like for you to leave now.”

“Please, that’s not what I meant. I’m just fascinated, that's all.”

“I’m so glad I could be an object of fascination for a moment, but—”

“Hey! Stop that. I like you, okay?”

The two of you stopped moving. No sound echoed throughout the room, almost as if the air itself was holding its breath, just as you were. Your eyes widened as they stared at Theo, searching within his to see if he was joking. Surely, he could not mean that.

“I don’t understand,” you spoke. “You’ve never said more than three words at a time to me, then you see I’m slightly different, and you’re suddenly interested in me. That doesn’t really add up.”

“That’s not it at all,” Theo sighed. “I was coming here to talk to you. To ask you to go to dinner with me. I’ve had a crush on you for a while. It had nothing to do with your wings. I would have just asked you out to dinner if I hadn’t seen them.”

“I thought you were coming here to pick up books?”

“That was just an excuse,” he sighed. “I panicked and didn’t want to ask you on a date when I’d just burst in on you like that.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” you laughed humorlessly. He smiled just a bit.

“I really do think they’re beautiful,” he whispered. “But they are absolutely nothing compared to you.”

That heat from earlier made itself known again, echoing loudly in your abdomen. Your pulse picked up as the compliment settled in your ears. The look he gave you was one of utter adoration—one you couldn’t believe you’d never noticed him giving you before. He couldn’t believe it either, because every time he looked at you, it was a look of nothing less than love.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” you said. “Generally, people aren’t so accepting of them.” You stretched your wing back out and let it drape across the bed in between the two of you. He sat down on the edge and let the tailend of the feathers drape across his knees. The intimacy of the moment made you flush.

“That’s stupid,” he scoffed. “They’re wonderful. The only reason anyone would think otherwise would be because they’re jealous.”

His fingers caressed softly through the feathers, tracing the outlines of them with a gentle touch. As you watched his movements, you could feel the affection blossoming in your chest. You’d never had someone so genuinely interested in you. It seemed that he cared, but not just because of what made you different. He seemed to care about you as well.

He had begun to experiment a bit, weaving his fingers through the feathers, tracing along the bottom edges, scratching his nails along the follicles. Every once and a while, a light chill would run through your skin at the feeling of him touching you and you’d shudder. The two of you would giggle quietly at your reaction before he returned to them.

He slowly worked his way upwards, exploring ways of which he could touch you. His hands moved higher, gently spreading the expanse of your wing upwards and admiring the full span of it.

Before long, he had scooted so close that his hips were brushing yours. Your other wing still covered your body, but the thought of him being so close to your naked skin had made another shudder go through you.

“Did that tickle?” he whispered, looking back to you.

“No,” you whispered. His eyes flickered to your lips, then yours to his. Then, his eyes returned to your wings. His fingers came down to trace the highest edge of them all the way down to where they met between your shoulder blades. His fingers slid between where they sunk into your back. He traced suddenly down the expanse of your spine just above the end of your tailbone. You gasped lightly. Obviously, the sensation on your skin was much stronger than your wings.

“Sorry, was that too much?” he asked.

“No.”

His index finger bent at the knuckle and traced along your back to your side, where the tip of your other wing ended. He watched as chills raised along your skin. You said nothing. Then, his hand flattened against your side. He cupped you warmly, feeling the way his large hand dwarfed your side. His thumb traced the edge of your feathers.

“Can I see the rest of you?” he whispered.

“What?” you gasped, not wanting to get your hopes up with what you’d just heard him say.

“Can I please see the rest of you?” His eyes were locked on your lips until he finished his words. They flicked back up to yours, aquamarine swirling against the light. He refused to look away.

You kept your mouth shut, but slowly pulled your wing away from yourself, exposing the rest of your body to his eyes. He looked down, drinking in the expanse of your entire body. The only bit of coverage you were granted were the bottoms still hung around your hips.

His thumb stretched slowly to trace the underside of your breast. He watched every reaction you granted him—little gasps and parts of your lips. He watched the chills continue to spread across your bare arms and legs. Soon, he followed his previous path on the opposite side of your body with his other hand. He held you comfortably between his strong hands.

“Is this okay?” he asked. And when you nodded, he gently pushed you back onto your pillows. Then he was over you, hovering with one strong arm and tracing your body from shoulder to hip with a curious thumb. He absentmindedly shyed over one nipple with a barely there touch. Your lips parted at the feeling, desperately desiring more.

“Theo, I—”

“Should I stop?” he asked, immediately pulling his hand back to watch your face.

“No!” you nearly shouted. “No, please don’t stop. I was going to ask if you—if I could kiss you.”

He smiled in response to your words. His hand returned to your body and he lowered himself onto his elbow beside your head. His face was much closer to yours now, his hands more confident. His nose suddenly brushed against yours, attempting to entice you a bit.

“Theo, before anything happens between us…,” you started. “Can you promise me that you aren’t just interested because of my wings?”

“Like I said earlier, even if I hadn’t seen them, I would have just asked you out to dinner,” he said, smiling sweetly. You returned his smile, a bit of excitement blooming in your chest at the current situation you rested in. This was everything you’d been dreaming of for months.

Then you were tilting your head up and pressing your lips to his. He responded immediately with a loving and warm kiss that encompassed the entirety of your thoughts. Your fingers curled into his uniform shirt, begging him closer to you. At your need for him, a small groan echoed against your lips as he tore away from you and roughly tore his shirt apart.

You helped him separate the pieces of fabric and slide them down the length of his arms, while he leaned back over you, strong body protecting you from all angles. Your legs split to envelop him between your thighs. With a bit of stray confidence, you wrapped them around his hips, letting them settle comfortably against him.

His lips pressed against your neck, kissing wetly along the length of your jaw. Your fingers curled into his dark hair, revelling in how soft it was. He was everything you’d ever imagined. Merlin, you wanted him so badly.

“Say the words,” he whispered against your skin. “Say the words and I’ll take you right here. Please, baby. Please say yes.”

“Yes, Theo. Please.” Your words came out in a breathless moan.

You were barely able to get the words out before his lips reattached to your neck. He leaned over to one side, completely balancing his weight on his left arm, while his right expertly undid his belt. The clinking of the metal fastener echoed in the empty space, building anticipation in your stomach.

He whispered a spell and the lock on the door in the corner clunked shut. When he turned back to you, he rose onto his knees and slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of your bottoms.

Slowly, he slid them down the length of your legs, maintaining seething eye contact the entire time. Chills spread across your skin and your wings bristled beneath his gaze. When he saw the reaction his touch gave your wingspan, he smirked devilishly. You shuddered.

Once you were exposed to him, he pressed gentle kisses to the insides of your thighs, rising higher and higher until he was face-to-face with your core. The room held its breath again as you braced yourself against the pillow, anticipating his touch.

Your wings were laid comfortably beside you, just as they were when you slept. But the moment his lips made contact with you, they were soaring off the bed and spreading out to their full expanse.

He hummed against you, vibrations traveling from your core up through your stomach. You gasped aloud at the sensation, grasping at the blankets around you.

With a bolt of confidence, you reached down and trapped his curls into your hands, fingernails lightly scratching against his scalp. He hummed again at the feeling.

He marveled at your wings spread out so gracefully, watching them closely with each ministration of his tongue. You watched as he stared up at you—nothing but adoration swam in his eyes.

He couldn’t believe what the sight of your body was doing to him. He so obviously understood why Angels were revered as Heavenly creatures now. If he had seen you with no further context, he too would have immediately bowed to worship.

When he strung you along far enough that your hips were beginning to rise off the bed, he stopped and pulled himself away from you. He returned to his previous position of hovering over you and placed his lips to yours.

The flavor of yourself was slathered across his mouth and spread to yours. His tongue traced along yours, glazing your tastebuds with his own.

With his lips pressed against yours, he slid his unfastened belt and pants down his legs, revealing toned muscles layered with golden skin. He wore dark briefs that framed him deliciously well.

He leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before lining himself up with your entrance. Though he’d granted no adjustment with his fingers beforehand, you weren't going to deny the stretch he provided, no matter how much it stung.

He pressed into you, allowing you to feel every inch of the expansion of your entrance. Fire blossomed below your waist as your fingers dug into his shoulders.

At his realization of how tight you were, he reached beneath the two of you and began to gently massage your clit, coaxing you more and more open.

With the combination of feeling running through your body, your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered shut. Without a doubt, he was the biggest you’d ever experienced.

Once he was fully settled within you, he gave you a few seconds to breathe. You pressed your lips lovingly to his bare shoulder, reveling in the warmth of his skin.

His chest was pressed to yours and your thighs wrapped around his waist so tightly, you were unsure if you could ever part from him.

Once he began to move, though, you knew you’d never let him go. He built up a gentle pace, working you wider and wider. Once you were fully open to him, his length hit every spot within you no others were able to hit.

Your breath was coming out of you in deep, whining exhales as he pounded his hips into yours. His lips pressed gentle kisses along your jawline with every thrust.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “Every part of you.” You moaned aloud at his words. Somehow, he knew exactly what you needed to hear to become more and more confident.

You’d never felt so loved in your life.

Skillfully, he built up every single feeling in your body until it coiled tightly within your stomach. You breathlessly said his name, warning of your impending finish.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he moaned against your throat. He reached upward and shoved his fingers through your feathers, parting them higher and higher, until he had a handful and gripped at them as hard as he could.

Your finish came crashing down around you. Your body rose off of the bed to meet with his and every thrust he worked you through. White flashes seared across your vision, branding the skyline with his face.

At the clenching of your own body, his finish was forced along farther and farther until he released within you. He came with a high-pitched moan into your shoulder. Your fingers remained squeezed into his shoulders until he weakened and laid down on top of you.

The two of you laughed breathlessly at the remaining aftershocks that coursed through your body. His fingers traced lovingly up the length of your exposed arm and swirled throughout your feathers.

“I don’t think anyone has ever focused so much on me,” you whispered.

“Have you ever shown them to anyone else?” he asked.

“No, just my family.”

“Well, I’m grateful you’re letting me see them. I’m not sure how I went so long without seeing your beautiful body. I shouldn’t have waited to come talk to you.”

You smiled sweetly and brushed a stray piece of hair away from his forehead to expose his bright eyes. Despite the amount of time you both waited to talk to each other, you were grateful you had taken the time to do it now. Theo was the only person thus far that had seen you instead of only your wings, and you were so thankful for that.

Then for the rest of the afternoon, you dozed with him, feeling his hands caressing your skin rather than your wings.

- - -

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @angelfrombeneth , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure , @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil , @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn , @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch , @ilovehotmenandwoman , @smutnyrobocikwrakiecie , @synicaljah , @abaker74

[maevebabyy]

CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE

sophia laforteza x fem reader

a/n - first fic whoo!!!! sophia’s a performing arts teacher and reader is a basketball coach. i wrote this half asleep pls 😭😭

wc - 3.7k

the air in dream academy was full of tension as the school year kicked off with principal son announcing the reallocation of the school year’s budget in favour of the basketball team.

ms. sophia laforteza, the young but fiercely dedicated performing arts teacher, was known for her passionate commitment to the arts, having already won quite a few high-school performing arts awards despite her short time teaching at dream academy. so it was understandable why she had gotten frustrated when she first heard about the budget cuts.

while you, the varsity girls basketball coach and one of the phys-ed teachers, were all about winning games and boosting school spirit. you had built up and maintained the team’s impressive win-loss record during your time as head coach – winning state championships two years in a row now, making dream academy a distinguished school when it came to women’s basketball.

the two of you had been at odds for as long as anyone could remember, each believing their program deserved more funding and recognition for their efforts. at least, that’s what you thought it looked like on the outside. daniela, your baby sister, was the only one who you told about your (obvious) crush on the drama teacher.

-

it was unusual to say the least, sophia usually gave off a very cool and calm demeanour around her students, wanting to set a good example. but right now, sophia was livid. waving her hands around like she usually does when she’s worked up or excited, this time, it was the former. her students could only watch amusedly as they stretched out their muscles.

“this is ridiculous! how can they prioritize a sport over the arts?” she fumed to her students in the theater.

one of her students, lara – a high-school senior and daniela’s best friend, starts giggling at how worked up her performing arts teacher had gotten.

“damn, coach really does get you worked up, doesn’t she?”

a few other students giggle at lara’s observation. this, alongside many others, were one of the many perks of being a young teacher. sophia’s students felt like they were learning from an older sister, rather than a teacher. it made sense though, sophia was only 22 and leading a bunch of high-schoolers into the world of performing arts.

sophia huffed lightly, bringing her hands to her forehead as she rubbed it, “well, yes, lara, how does coach y/n deserve more funding? we killed it last year with our plays!”

lara stops a giggle from escaping, snorting in the process, “it’s not even a whole lot. dani told me they only received a little more to afford those new team backpacks they’ve been whining about. wait, shh though! It’s supposed to be a secret!”

the drama teacher rolls her eyes again, of course you’d spend the extra money on flashy new team backpacks. if it had been her it would have gone towards something more useful like new mic packs, or better props.

“a little goes a long way, lara.” sophia remarks, shaking her head.

another student voices out their opinion, a teasing grin on her face. “coach y/n seriously has a lot of influence on you, teach”

it was the highschool junior, megan, she was both a cheerleader and a part of the school’s performing arts club. a wider teasing grin appears on the redhead’s face, “sooo, enemies to-”

before the junior is able to finish her sentence, sophia quickly cuts her off, clapping her hands together.

“alright! enough stretching, run your lines for rehearsals!” a bright and wide smile on the drama teacher’s face as she purposefully ignores the tease she was about to receive.

-

meanwhile, you reveled in the news with your team, sharing the good news with your players. your focus solely on the upcoming season.

you gather your team around at the end of practice, your players keeping eye contact with you as you rounded everybody up. making eye contact with your baby sister, you tell her with your weird sibling telepathy not to pull anything funny to ruin the surprise.

“okay girls, that was a great practice! especially you yoonchae. you’re improving quickly” you grin widely, praising the korean girl. “in fact, all of you girls have been working really hard for this upcoming season.”

you gesture for one of your players, manon, the team captain, and the only other person to know about the surprise aside from daniela to come up and stand beside you.

with a wide grin of her own, manon reveals the new team bags you had hidden behind you in a box. “ta-da! coach actually got us those new team bags we’ve been talking about!”

you grin widely as the girls excitedly rushed forward to grab their own bag which donned their school colours and sported their number and last name on the bag. watching them try on the bag for themselves and count out how many pockets the spacious bag had.

“i assume you all like it then?” you chuckle, crossing your arms as you watch your team nod, shouting out their thank you’s.

“let’s have a good season this year, girls.” you grin.

-

a week had passed since then, and principal son had called in the both of you into his office. you sat across from sophia who was on her phone as you both waited for the principal to finish talking on the phone. the secretary in the middle of the lobby typing away on his computer, completing desk work.

waiting in the lobby with sophia was suffocating– but in a good way. sure, she might’ve sent you some weird questioning looks, but damn she’s pretty. her jet-black straight hair framing her sharp features perfectly, her perfect posture even when sitting down, the way her soft smile immediately warmed up the room when she found something funny on her phone. before you could keep studying her face, your attention is brought away from the drama teacher as you hear principal son’s voice who had just opened his door. “come in.”

walking behind sophia, you take the seat beside her as principal son sat in his office chair behind his desk in front of you two.

“i’ve got a special opportunity for you two.” he grins, eyeing the both of you before continuing. “we want to host a community workshop day for the younger kids in our high school’s area who may potentially end up enrolling in dream academy.”

principal son pauses to gauge our reactions, chuckling to himself as he sees the confused looks. “since you two run our two biggest programs, i want you two to work together on this. it will primarily revolve around the arts and sports, though primarily basketball in terms of sports since we do the best in that one.”

sophia speaks up from the chair beside you, “when exactly does this community day happen?”

“you two will have about a month to prepare.”

both of you immediately shot up your eyebrows in surprise. “a month?” you ask, eyes widened.

“you heard me clearly coach.” son chuckles to himself, “i’ll check in every once in a while.”

just as quickly as you and sophia were in that room, you suddenly find yourself back out in the lobby. you face sophia slowly, “so… a month?”

sophia groans, “don’t start-”

“we kinda have to…”

sophia silently curses, you were right. the two of you desperately needed to start brainstorming soon if she wanted a community day she could be proud of. “fine, swing by the mpr as soon as the bell rings at the end of the day.”

“but-”

“you don’t have basketball practice today do you?” sophia cuts in, leaving no room for argument.

you shake your head no weakly.

“okay, i’ll see you then.”

before you’re able to respond, sophia quickly walks away from you and towards the mpr. 

you hear a soft whistle behind you, coming from the secretary. “really got a thing for the feisty ones?”

you flush lightly, stuttering, “it’s not like that, sohey.” you take a moment to regain your composure, “besides, i think… self confident would be the more correct term here.”

-

eventually, the bell rings exactly at 3:30 and you find yourself already by the mpr doors, hesitating to go in for whatever reason.

“you got this y/n, c’mon, don’t be weird- it’s just a quick meeting, yep, with just the two of you-“

“what’re you doing n/n?”

you let out a quiet yelp as you are surprised by your baby sister who snuck behind you.

“nothing dani…”

daniela quirks an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. “mhm… sure… just waiting by ms sophia’s door right?”

“dani? i don’t like that smirk-“

“you’ll thank me for this later!” in an instant, daniela pushes you into the mpr, giggling.

you stumble into the mpr, almost tripping. as you regain your balance you’re met with sophia’s questioning stare. feeling nervous under it, you feel the need to explain yourself.

clearing your throat, you reply. “didn’t wanna be late is all.”

“mhm. what was that scream outside? it sounded serious.” sophia raises an eyebrow, a small smile threatening to lift up.

“ah….” you’re silent for a moment. “there must’ve been a fight, totally.”

“and, as a phys-ed teacher, shouldn’t you stop them?”

“nah, where’s the character development in that?”

sophia huffs lightly, disgusing her small giggle before returning to that cold demeanor she’s used to keeping around you. “alright, come here, i’ve drafted some ideas for the community day.”

that afterschool evening had gone on for longer than the two of you expected. sophia surprisingly tolerating your presence for more than two hours. 

after tweaking and modifying the initial plan sophia came up with, you both finally agreed on something.

“this’ll work.” you grin warmly, unintentionally making eye contact with sophia, who was reciprocating your smile and gaze, but only for a moment before returning back to her stern self around you.

but wow— even if it was just for a moment you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating momentarily there, the butterflies going berserk in your stomach. 

“better not mess this up, y/n” sophia scoffs.

admittedly, sophia was still hesitant to work together with you, but seeing as she had no choice, she accepted.

-

as the days rolled on, the community workshop day loomed ever closer. the tension between you and sophia had shifted; while you still had your disagreements, there was a sense of camaraderie slowly forming. you were finding common ground in your shared goal of making the event a success, even if you couldn’t quite shake the competitive edge.

one evening, as you helped out during a rehearsal, you caught yourself watching sophia again. she was guiding her students through a scene, her passion shining through every gesture. it was hard not to admire her—her energy, her dedication, the way she inspired those kids to be their best. you couldn’t help but think about how different she was from the cool, collected teacher everyone else saw. here, she was vibrant and alive, and it struck a chord deep within you.

“seriously, n/n,” daniela nudged you, breaking your train of thought. “you’re staring again.”

your little sister had started accompanying you to these rehearsals, wanting to get a ride home from you instead of taking the bus home.

you turned to her, feigning nonchalance. “i’m just observing.”

“observing? right. you’re practically drooling,” she teased, her voice light but full of mischief.

you groaned, brushing off her comments. “i’m not. and could you be quiet about it?”

“oh, please. everyone can see it, dear sister, you’re not subtle. just ask her out already,” dani insisted, a grin plastered across her face.

“not happening,” you shot back, though the thought had crossed your mind more than once. “she’s too focused on her students, and i’m… well, i’m the basketball coach.”

dani rolled her eyes. “you’re both teachers. just because you’re rivals doesn’t mean you can’t also be… whatever else.”

as you tried to come up with a witty retort, the rehearsal wrapped up, and the students began to disperse. sophia caught your eye, giving you a nod of acknowledgment.

“see? she’s looking at you,” your baby sister whispered, elbowing you in the side.

“shut up,” you replied, trying to suppress a smile.

“y/n! can you help me with this?” sophia called, gesturing toward a stack of props.

you obliged, walking over with a bit of hesitance. as you helped her carry them into a storage room and sort through the items, the atmosphere shifted again. “thanks for helping out,” she said, her tone warmer than usual. “it’s been nice having you around.”

“yeah, well, i figured it’d be good to lend a hand,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual. “we’re in this together after all.”

sophia looked thoughtful for a moment, her gaze piercing yet soft. “i know we have our differences, but i appreciate your effort. i just want to make sure our students get a memorable experience.”

“i get that. i want the same for my team,” you said, hoping your sincerity showed. “maybe we can find ways to highlight both programs.”

a brief silence hung between you, the tension from earlier fading into something more comfortable. “that’s the plan,” she said, a hint of a smile creeping onto her lips. “we’re a team, after all.”

just then, the door swung open, and daniela reentered, eyes gleaming with mischief. “hey, i just had a thought—why don’t we mix things up at the community day? like a mini talent show where the basketball girls have to perform something artsy? we could host it in between the different workshops.”

sophia’s eyes lit up at the idea, while you felt your stomach drop. “what? no way—”

daniela cut you off, grinning. “think about it! a fun way to bridge the gap between your two programs! i know my big sister here would be more than willing to do whatever you want miss sophia!”

sophia seemed intrigued, leaning forward. “it could be a great way to showcase teamwork. and we could have them work together on the performances!”

“absolutely not,” you interjected, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “i’m not getting on stage.”

“come on, n/n! it would be hilarious! and i’m sure the other girls wouldn't mind” daniela insisted, nudging you playfully.

sophia chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “i think it sounds like a great idea.”

“yeah, well, you’re not the one who has to perform,” you muttered, crossing your arms defensively.

sophia’s laughter echoed through the room, making your heart race. “don’t worry, we can make it fun. besides, it’ll be great for school spirit!”

“fine, but only if i can do a slam dunk in the middle of my performance,” you shot back, joking.

“deal,” sophia replied, smirking.

-

with the date approaching in less than a week, the two of you began meeting more frequently. it was strange how much time you two spent together, and despite your initial hesitations, sophia found herself looking forward to those moments. each planning session revealed more layers to you—your humor, your dedication, and that rare softness that broke through your brash exterior.

one afternoon, while going over logistics for the event, you couldn’t help but ask, “so what’s your favorite part of teaching?” it felt like a risk to the two, stepping out of the bounds of your usual playful bickering.

sophia paused, her expression thoughtful. “honestly? it’s seeing the kids transform. watching them come out of their shells during a performance or find confidence in themselves. it’s like a light bulb goes off.”

you nodded, impressed. “that’s really cool. i can see how much they look up to you.”

sophia’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she brushed off the compliment. “thanks. but enough about me—what about you? what drives you as a coach?”

you shrugged, feeling a wave of sincerity wash over you. “winning is great, but it’s more about seeing the girls grow, too. watching them realize their potential, support each other, and build a team—that’s what i love the most.”

sophia smiles softly to herself, though it goes unnoticed by you. maybe there as more in common between you two than she thought.

-

on the eve of the event, you and sophia decided to meet one last time to finalize the schedule and make sure everything was ready for tomorrow. you both settled into the mpr, the tension between you now more comfortable, laced with a sense of friendliness.

“i can’t believe it’s finally happening tomorrow,” you said, looking around the room filled with props and equipment. “feels weird.”

“yeah, i just hope it all goes smoothly,” she replied, biting her lip, her brows furrowing in concern.

“you’ve worked hard. the kids love you, and the performances will be amazing. trust yourself,” you encouraged, your tone sincere.

sophia glanced at you, her expression softening. “thanks, y/n. that means a lot coming from you.”

just then, a loud crash echoed from the back of the mpr as a student accidentally knocked over a stack of props, causing both of you to jump.

“great! just what we need before a big event,” you said, rushing over to help.

as you both started picking up the scattered items, your hands brushed against each other. the moment lingered, and you both froze for a heartbeat before quickly pulling away, a rush of heat spreading across your cheeks.

“uh… sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “guess we’re a bit clumsy tonight.”

“yeah, clumsy,” she echoed, though a soft smile tugged at her lips. “just a lot on our minds.”

you chuckled, relieved at the lightness returning to the moment. “right. what’s our first activity again?”

sophia reached for the clipboard, flipping through the schedule. “we start with some icebreaker games before splitting into workshops. your girls will lead a few drills, and then we’ll have the mini talent show later.”

“can’t wait to see my team actually do this,” you chuckle.

“don’t sell them short. you might be surprised,” she replied, a teasing glint in her eye. “they might just steal the show.”

“or bring it crashing down,” you countered with a laugh.

-

the day of the community workshop finally arrived, buzzing with excitement and nerves. the gym was transformed into a vibrant hub, with colourful decorations and stations set up for various activities. you could hear the chatter and laughter of kids filling the space, making it hard to believe that just a month ago, you and sophia had been at odds over budget cuts.

as the event kicked off, you looked over at sophia, who was in her element, directing her students with a flair that made you admire her even more. the icebreaker games were a hit, with kids mingling and having fun, but the real challenge loomed ahead—the mini talent show.

the talent show began, and the kids showcased their various talents—singing, dancing, and acting, each performance more impressive than the last. sophia cheered enthusiastically for each act, her passion evident.

when it was finally your team’s turn, you could feel the weight of expectation. you had arranged for a fun skit that would highlight teamwork, incorporating elements of basketball with a comedic twist. you could see the nervousness in your players' eyes as they shuffled onto the makeshift stage, but you also saw the determination flicker behind them.

“okay, girls! remember what we practiced” you chuckle lightheartedly, hoping to boost their spirits.

the skit started off a bit shaky, but as your players found their rhythm, the laughter from the audience built. you caught a glimpse of sophia’s delighted expression, her laughter ringing out above the crowd. it made your heart race—she was enjoying this, and you wanted to keep that smile on her face.

-

eventually, the night came to a close as parents and their children began filing out of the gym after a successful event. you and sophia found yourselves amidst the remnants of the community workshop. the atmosphere buzzed with the afterglow of laughter and excitement, but now it was just the two of you, surrounded by colourful props and decorations.

“alright, everyone, you can head home! great job today!” you called out, shooing away the last few lingering students. “seriously, don’t worry about the cleanup. we’ve got it covered.”

sophia smiled, watching the students file out, their faces still glowing from the event. once the doors swung shut, a comfortable silence settled over the gym. you glanced over at her, taking in the way she brushed a stray hair behind her ear, a hint of relief in her expression.

“looks like we’re officially on cleanup duty,” you said, picking up a few scattered props.

“yeah, but it was worth it,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with the remnants of excitement. “everyone really had a great time.”

you hear sophia giggle softly, pausing her clean up duties. “you know, i really thought we wouldn’t be able to pull this off. i practically hated your guts a month ago.”

you chuckled lightheartedly in response, “i was a bit nervous at first, too. you were so closed off before this workshop thing.” you pause, picking up a few more props. “I’m glad we moved past it though.”

she rolled her eyes, but there was a soft smile on her lips. “well, i guess you’ve seen a different side of me. and maybe i’ve seen a different side of you too.”

as you both continued cleaning up, the atmosphere shifted. it felt lighter, charged with a new kind of understanding. “so, what do you think we should do next?” you asked, trying to sound casual while your heart raced.

sophia looked thoughtful. “maybe we could plan another event? we could make it a tradition.”

“sounds great,” you agreed, your mind racing with possibilities. then, gathering your courage, you added, “or… we could hang out outside of school. grab a bite to eat together sometime?”

her eyes widened slightly, and you could see the gears turning in her head. “are you asking me out, coach?”

“maybe i am,” you said, stepping a little closer, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

a slow smile spread across her face, illuminating her features. “i’d like that. i’ll take you up on that offer, y/n.”

a/n - i got lazy at the end sorry LOL

[celestie0]

MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)

ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️

@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au

[image pulled from her masterlist]

let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)

characterization of gojo satoru.

gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.

forbidden romance.

UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333

reader’s voice.

i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers

escapism.

everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.

writing.

the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.

—

if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!

OK BYE

[yuumcbr]

A human's curiosity for an unknown god

Okay, this was in my notes and I didn't know whether to post it or not.

This is the deity AU by @ceruleancattail, I wrote this based on their amazing stories.

I think Leona might have become a bit OC, there's a POV switch.

You are a History student and recently your class started studying Greek history. One of your teachers decided to give some classes about the history of some gods and asked you to choose one of them and do a seminar.

In your research you found something on an internet wiki about Falena, the God of the Sun. In Greek culture, he was as famous as the god Neige and the god Cheka.

But what you found on the wiki caught your attention, it was a god you had never heard of, God Leona, the younger brother of the god of the Sun.

You clicked to see if you could find more about him and discovered that Leona was known as the God of the Moon. You found it interesting, this would mean that Leona and Falena looked after opposite areas of the world.

However, unlike what you imagined, Leona was considered a bad god who haunted humans by bringing night.

I mean, back then it was normal to think that night was something bad, since it was dark and cold (and since candles were a luxury item and there was no electricity, it must have been a little scary).

But in a few wikis on the internet there was information about how Falena loved her little brother and that the god Cheka idolized him above all else.

Cheka might be known as the God of innocence and childhood, but you were sure that Falena would push him away if the God Leona was really bad company.

Maybe, just maybe, the information was never complete (a plot hole?).

After much, much research and your interest in this mysterious god grew, you decided that he would be the subject of your college research.

Your classmates said that they would research more well-known Gods and that you should do the same, but your interest in the unknown always spoke louder.

As time went by and the deadline for your assignment approached, you noticed that it was getting harder and harder to find anything about this god, and sometimes you even talked in front of the computer, begging for information.

"Come on Leona, show up!" or "Why is it so hard to find anything about you, Leona?"

Over time, you found one or two books with some superficial information, and when that happened, you said it was your lucky day. Tired of always searching the same internet and all the books in the college library, you decided to abandon this method and look elsewhere, and what better place would there be than in the country of the ancient religion itself.

With a long weekend coming up, you looked for a temple of Leona, that way you could research it more in depth.

No matter how much you looked for any temple, nothing appeared. So you decided to go to a city where you would find a temple of Falena and Cheka, hoping to find a temple of Leona nearby.

You bought your ticket, rented a hotel and calmly waited for the big day.

The more followers a god has, the more power he has to use magic and perform miracles.

Just the fact that a human visits your temple or a place built to honor you is enough for him to be able to cure incurable diseases.

Constant prayer was even better, since this would signify faith in a god. It would give you the ability to move mountains.

However, if you wished to never meet this god or for another god to protect you from him, the god would begin to have a negative energy, meaning that if this god used magic, bad things would happen.

Leona thought that when he became known as the god of the moon, he would be as worshiped as his brother. However, several humans distorted his story to attract more followers to Falena.

And little by little, all who followed him were condemned and he could do nothing about it, since his magic was too negative to help them and this would only make the situation worse.

After the anger of having those who trusted him leave and having his feelings shattered. He gave up on ever having a follower again.

Centuries passed and several gods lost their followers to time and countless were resurrected.

No matter how many gods were forgotten, there was always someone who quoted them to say something and that was enough for their legacy to continue existing.

Leona had almost no moments where his legacy was remembered and of those few moments, most described him as a bad and bitter god.

He gave up on seeing what happened in the human world, just lying down and relaxing for eternity.

Sometimes he felt his chest tighten with something bad or a short feeling of goodness and he knew it was just another one of the few moments when someone remembered him.

Leona ignored it, never wanting to see what they talked about behind his back.

One day when Leona was playing chess alone, that distressing feeling appeared again and it made him angry.

"Tch, humans should learn to think a little with their heads instead of believing everything they see."

And as if this human was able to hear him, the feeling gradually improved, bringing a small joy.

This made Leona stop for a moment, holding a pawn in her hand and thinking deeply.

A ghost of a smile appeared when she understood, but she doesn't think it's worth checking, his game is more interesting than a short-lived thought.

However, the feeling lasted a few more hours before it went away.

The next day, Leona had dinner with Falena, Cheka and his sister-in-law at Falena's request.

"So Leona, what good have you been up to?"

His sister-in-law asked, trying to start a conversation.

Playing with the vegetables on his plate, the Moon God stared at his sister-in-law.

"Nothing much, just the same as always."

"Oh mom, yesterday there was a soul researching Unca!"

Cheka said excitedly, the god of innocence and childhood was always happy when a human was nice to his uncle.

Leona looked at his nephew, maybe yesterday's soul found him while researching about Cheka or his brother.

"Oh that's nice! It's not every day we get good news like this, why don't we celebrate?"

His brother said excitedly. He knows in reality they just want him to get out and interact with other gods.

"No, I'll pass. It would be ridiculous to celebrate every time someone remembers the existence of a god."

"Oh come on Leona, it's been a while since you've accompanied us to a party"

Falena insisted Leona highly doubts that the other gods would come anyway, he doesn't want to hear Ruggie laugh at the news of a party because of a human quote.

Dinner was over and before Leona could reach his resting place, his previous feelings returned.

Now there were more people talking about him, some curious and others more disinterested.

The lion-like god stopped walking, the conflicting thoughts of whether to go look at these humans or not fighting among themselves.

Apparently, some of these humans didn't seem very friendly towards him.

It would be a matter of time before that would disappear and he would fall into oblivion again.

However, contrary to Leona's thoughts, day after day, a human would return to want to know more about him.

He supposed that on the days when there were more people thinking about him, it was because the human he was thinking about frequently commented on his discoveries with his friends.

Not that he would admit it, but he was starting to get scared that the calming feeling in his chest would stop, that this curious mortal soul would stop being so interested in him.

What made him finally look at this human and give up the fear of oblivion was a prayer.

"Come on Leona, show yourself."

It wasn't a prayer, but it would qualify as one.

Leona was dozing off at the moment you made this unconscious prayer, the lion's eyes opened with the wave of power that ran through his body. Sitting up from where he was lying, Leona looked at his hands and gave a heartfelt laugh.

"How far will humans go for their curiosity?"

Opening a kind of magic bubble, he saw you for the first time.

You were sitting on a chair looking at a thin illuminated box, with some attention the god noticed that it was some kind of research.

He remembers Cheka mentioning long ago about thin boxes that work much like the magic bubble of gods, but less powerful.

He saw you put your head on the table.

"Why can't I find anything, not a single piece of additional information."

When you turned your gaze to the strange box, he saw the information about him disappear and go to Falena.

Your lips pursed in disgust at this action. In retaliation, you sighed and went back to thinking about him.

'Why is it so difficult to find anything about Leona? The few mentions about him oscillate between saying that he was good and evil.'

"Maybe if I…." The human in front of her began to research his temples. Leona doubted that he would find any that were still standing.

All of his temples (which weren't many) were destroyed a long time ago.

The days went by and your improvised requests to know more about him gradually increased your power. You didn't do it on purpose, you just talked to yourself, sometimes and it resulted in a kind of prayer, but it boosted your ego anyway.

He watched your day to day life and saw how you researched countless gods, but you didn't follow any of them.

Apparently you studied in a place that taught about various gods, religions and the history of the world. Interesting to say the least, seeing so many humans willing to learn about different gods and have an open mind to understand the past and present.

Leona liked to help you sometimes. Everything he did you would consider a stroke of luck. For your colleagues, you definitely had a guardian angel.

Leona always laughed when someone said that. You literally had a god who did many things for you. But in return, he always waited for her to seek him out.

It's fair, isn't it? Herbivore!

He helps you in your daily life and in return you ask to know more about him and feed his power.

In case you focused on something else or had another study you wanted to do for fun, Leona would give you some time.

However, if you dared to take too long to go back to researching about him, certain incidents would get in your way and lead you to the book with something about him that was closest.

Nothing too bad, just the wind blowing all your research away, or a heavy rain that would make you go back to the library to avoid getting wet.

When Leona noticed that you were looking for a temple of his near one of Falena or Cheka on the day I was free. He used his magic to change the research on your weird glowing box that you called PC and showed a temple of Farena and Cheka that there was one of his fallen temples nearby.

And maybe some other information that would make you go to him.

Seeing you excited about the trip and hoping that you would find something about Leona only fueled his arrogance.

Sometimes he liked to think of you as a follower and how everyone would react when they saw that someone believed in him again.

"Leona, there better be something about you in this place or I'll strangle you!"

A smile appeared on the lion's face, it was amusing to see a weak and defenseless human like you irritated when you didn't find anything new about him.

"Don't worry Herbivore, you'll find much more than just information!"

English is not my first language, I used Google Translate.

I fixed some mistakes, but there must still be one or two left, sorry about that.

Thanks for reading this far, feel free to say something [I love to talk (◇w◇)].

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

A/N: Look what I have for you. Is it Christmas or what? So, this one is a bit shorter, but I wanted to give you something. I am still a sucker for Logan. I just want him so bad, oh my god!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: angst, but fluff, implied sex?

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story has sexual scenes.

Words: 2500+

Important note: HughJackman!Wolverine - always!

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

My body winced and I opened my eyes. The nightmare was gone. I was back in the real world. Was it better than the dream? No. But I was back, on a motel bed that smelled like bleach and mould. At least I had a bed to rest on tonight. Maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be as promising as today. Hell, I could be dead now. 

I felt a warm touch on my belly. Fingers traced patterns on my skin. My eyes lifted, meeting the green ones. “Are you okay, baby?” Logan whispered into the darkness. 

It was a ridiculous question to ask. I was not okay. Shit, he wasn’t either. We went through literal hell. So I snuggled closer to him, sniffing his scent as I tried to suppress my tears. “No,” I mumbled into the white top he wore. “I see them in my dreams, haunting me. They are calling my name, pleading for my help.” 

We lost everything, everyone. 

It started when the mutant hunters killed the strongest of us - Jean. We didn’t know how the fuck they managed to do it. She was the fucking Phoenix. We quickly learnt they created a weapon to strip us of our powers. Afterwards, it was too easy. With Jean gone, we knew the rest of us was next. 

Scott died a week later. He wanted revenge. He tried to kill those who killed his love, his woman. Unfortunately, he was captured, stripped of his powers and murdered. 

Charles felt it all. He felt it when Jean died. He felt when Scott’s heart started to beat. We knew this was the end of the line when he told us. 

The whole school prepared for war. The youngest students were sent home or away with those who didn’t want to fight. The rest of them we trained. They wanted to stay, fight with us, and protect the school and this family we built. 

And we lost. 

They all died. Charles, Storm, Hank, Peter… They were all gone. Logan and I fled the moment we realised there wasn’t much we could do. We saw the dead bodies around the school—our friends, and students, lifeless on the bloody wooden floors in a place we once called home.

I hated we left them there. I hated we couldn’t say goodbye. I would have died too if Logan hadn’t pulled me out of the bloodshed. The thought of leaving Logan alone in this unfair cruel world pained me. At least, we survived together. At least I had him.

It’s been two days since we lost our friends - the family we loved and cherished. Two days since we lost our lives and were on the run. This was the first night we were able to lay low and rest. It was because we escaped the States and entered Canada before being caught. It helped that Logan was Canadian.

Logan kissed my forehead. “I see them, too. Their faces haunt me. That’s why I can’t sleep.” 

A tear escaped my eye. I quickly wiped it away. “There was so much blood, Logan. They let them bleed out.” 

“I know,” he whispered. 

I started to cry. My body was shivering. I felt his arms wrap around my shoulder and middle, pulling me as close to him as possible. “Shhh,” he kissed the top of my head. I couldn’t help myself. My emotions were all over the place. I wasn’t able to mourn the loss properly. We had to hide from the world. There was no time to think about our next steps. 

His touch became soothing. I felt the love radiating towards me. I loved him deeply, madly. For this man, I would sell my soul to the devil. And in this twisted world full of death, I was happy that we survived the biggest nightmare of our lives. 

I don’t know how I managed to fall asleep, but when I opened my eyes again, I saw the sun coming through the crack of the curtains. The big, strong arms never left my body. When I glanced at Logan’s face, his eyes were closed. His breathing was even. He was asleep. Good. 

I remained in his embrace, snuggled to his side. I used this opportunity to think about our next steps. I needed to occupy my mind with something, anything. 

We left the States. Now what? Was it wise to stay in Canada? It was so close to the States. What if they decide to hunt mutants in here, too? Even if we moved north, they’d find us there. And maybe… nowhere was safe. Our destiny was already written. We were doomed. 

My eyes were locked on the beige ceiling, and I imagined a plan as my thoughts ran through my mind. I was going back and forth. When I didn’t like the plan, I erased it to a certain point and then moved forward again. 

Out of nowhere, I gasped. There was an important detail I forgot. How could I be so stupid? 

“What?” Logan’s eyes snapped open. He sat up and pushed me away in the process. His fists were clenched, adamantium claws on full display, ready to fight. His breathing was hard. I scared him. Shit. 

Gently, I put my hand on his chest. “It’s just me, I’m so sorry. Everything’s fine.” 

“You okay, baby?” he asked when his eyes found mine. Once I nodded, the claws retracted and he exhaled. “You scared me, Y/N. I thought someone found us. Don’t fucking ever do that again.” 

I shook my head, pressing him back on the bed. “I’m so sorry. I was just thinking about our future. I had been contemplating our next steps, thinking back and forth. And…” I sighed. “We can’t stay in Canada.” 

He frowned, then raised a brow. “Why?” It was a genuine question. 

“You are Canadian, Logan. This will be the first country they’d start to look for you - for us,” I explained. “I get that Canada is one of the biggest states in the world. But, as I said, the main focus would be here, once they have permission to strike here.” 

Logan frowned, not pleased with what I said. It took him a good twenty seconds before he nodded. “Well, you aren’t wrong. So, where should we go?” 

“Scotland.” 

He opened his mouth, closed it, and did it a few times before he said, “Why Scotland?” 

My fingers traced his beard-covered jawline. “I’m half Scottish,” I said. “Scottish-American. I have two passports. I have them here. I took them before we left. I have your IDs and all.” 

“H-how?”

“Always prepared for the worst,” I admitted sadly. “Kept them in a bag with some money and all,” I explained. “When Jean died, I made sure we were ready. I prepared an emergency bag that I kept in a hidden spot. That’s why I ran to the first escape door. The bag was under the floor.”

“My sweet angel,” he exhaled and leaned to me to press his lips on mine. “Always ready. But, no offence, you don’t sound Scottish. You don’t look Scottish,” he chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. “You never told me.” 

My eyes moved around the room, stopping at the creek of the sun coming in. “My father was Scottish. Mother was American. When they died, my mother’s sisters wanted to take me in. They were super religious. They thought they’d be able to cure my mutation with God’s mighty power,” I rolled my eyes. “Luckily, my grandma took me in. I lived with her until I was twenty. Then I decided to move back to the States.” 

Logan’s fingers brushed my hair. “Thank fucking god you did.” When I looked at him, he was smiling. “Otherwise I wouldn’t met you.” 

I climbed over him, putting all my weight on his body. He didn’t mind. Logan’s arms immediately wrapped around me. “We should head to Scotland,” I whispered. “It’s not Canada but my grandmother lives in a village, near the woods. It was magical then. It should be magical now, too.”

He raised a brow, watching me like a hawk. “How do you know she’s still alive?” 

My fingers brushed his nose. “Because I can feel her,” I said. “She’s a mutant too.”

“She is? What’s her mutation?” 

“Nature control,” I explained. “I’m not saying she’s the strongest, but she’s powerful enough to communicate with me through nature, all those miles away.” 

His lips found mine in a gentle kiss. “So we head to Scotland,” he whispered.

“Will you be able to get through the flight?”

His nose scrunched. “For you, I’ll do anything, baby. I’ll get on the fucking plane and suffer through it if it means to be with you.” 

Those words brought tears to my eyes. “I love you. Thank you.” 

. . .

Where are the mutants? It’s been ten years since Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters was destroyed. Since then, no one has seen a mutant. Are they hiding? Are they extinct? More on that this afternoon, at four PM. 

I sighed. Another radio show about mutants. Great. Will they ever leave us at peace? I put my coffee mug down, my eyes locked on the kitchen window as I watched the rain heavily fall from the sky. I loved this dark, cold weather. Autumn in Scotland was magical. Yes, some hated the weather, but not me. I enjoyed it. 

Big hands wrapped around my midsection, pressing me as close to a firm stomach and chest as possible. I hummed, smiling. His scent made my knees weak even after all this time. His lips pressed a kiss to the top of my head. 

“How is my wife today?” Logan’s voice was low but soft. He smelled like rain, mud and oil. He just came back from work. At least he took off the wet clothes before he got all over me. 

Logan and I got married two years after we moved to Scotland. My grandmother died a year before that. I was lucky enough to spend some time with her before she passed. Oh, but she loved Logan. She always called him: my sweet boy. 

I put my hands over his, sighing. “I’m better now that you are here. There was another radio show about mutants,” I said. “How was work?” 

“Alan got stuck under a tree and broke his leg,” he said. “I helped him out and we got him to the nearest hospital. So, he’ll be out for about six to eight weights. Which means a bit more work but more money.” 

I turned around in his arms, eyes meeting his. “How much work? Will you be coming late to us?” 

Logan leaned closer and pressed his lips against mine. “Don’t worry, baby. Nothing drastic, maybe staying at work for an hour longer. And it’s not gonna happen every day. I wouldn’t want to be without you all longer than I need to.” 

Again, our lips met in a sweet kiss, then another until he pressed me against the kitchen counter. His big hand gripped my hips. He was hungry, I could feel it. Even his erection was evident. I wanted him. “Wait, where are the kids?” he pulled from the kiss. 

“In the barn,” I moaned when his lips left mine. I needed him. I put my hands on his chest. This was the perfect opportunity fuck in the kitchen while the kids were nowhere near the house. And hell, it’s been some time since we were intimate. I unbuttoned his flannel shirt. 

We had two kids. Charles, whom we called Charlie, was almost ten. My grandmother was able to see him as an infant before she passed away. She wasn’t happy that we had a child before marriage. But she was all giddy and happy for us once she saw the baby.

And then there was Emma Maria, after my grandmother and Rogue, our friend. She was eight. As far as we knew, Charlie’s mutation didn’t show up. It was only a matter of time before they blossomed. At least both of our children could enjoy childhood without being a threat to the world. 

Logan pulled on my lower lip. “Pretty baby is needy?” He hoisted me up on the kitchen counter, stepping between my legs. “I know, it’s been a while since I was inside you.” His hands stroke my thighs. One of them crawled crawled up my body and the other cupped my clothed sex. 

I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch until he kissed me gently and stepped away. “They are coming inside,” he sighed. Immediately, I whined. 

As I hopped off the kitchen counter, the back door opened, and our children entered the tiny hallway. We heard them undressing and talking to each other. Emma coughed. I frowned. I hoped she wasn’t getting sick. 

Logan leaned against the kitchen aisle, waiting for the kids as I jumped off the counter. Once Emma’s eyes noticed him, she smiled at him. “Hi, dad!” 

“Hey, princess,” he greeted her. He took her into his big arms once she was close, pressing a kiss on top of her head. “What you were doing in the barn?” 

“We have kittens!” she said excitedly. 

I raised a brow. “Oh? Since when?” I saw a stray cat a few times here. I didn’t know she was expecting babies. Well, at least we’ll have someone to catch mice around here. Also, it was beautiful news. I loved cats.

Charlie hugged his father. “They are a couple of days old,” he explained. “She had five of them.” 

“Five?” Logan sighed. I knew he wasn’t happy about it. Before he opened his mouth, I gave him a warning glare. 

“They are so cute and tiny,” Emma smiled. “We’ll keep them, right?” She glared at her father and then at me.

I nodded. “Of course, Em. They can stay in the barn. We have some old towels and clothes. I think I have a spare plastic container for water. We’ll give them a safe home and they’ll be with us.” 

“Baby,” Logan sighed. 

I raised a hand. I didn’t want to hear a word about it. When I found the container, I gave it to Emma. “You’ll bring them water. Charlie, find an old carton box in the garage. I’ll fetch you the towels. And listen,” I turned to him. “Put it into the box nicely and leave the box in a secure, warm space. Don’t put the kittens there. She’ll do it herself,” I explained. 

The moment both kids disappeared, Logan shook his head. “I don’t like this, baby.” 

“Let them have this,” I said. “We don’t have a dog. The cats will stay in the barn and outside. No one is taking them into the house, okay?” 

“Uh-huh,” he rolled his eyes. “Give it a day or two. Emma will sneak them in.” 

I grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him closer to me. “I have my ways of convincing you,” I purred. I pressed my lips to his in a searing kiss. “Just be a good daddy and let the kittens stay.” 

He shook his head, chuckling. Logan leaned closer, his lips to my ear. “I might need a little more convincing to keep the kittens. So, be prepared.” 

I pressed my lips to his cheek. “I love you, Logan.” 

He smiled at me. “Love you too, baby. And the kids, and this life.” 

[stickyspeckledlight]

“…..allow me to ask, how the fuck did you both manage to break into my house, yet alone find a way to come to my world, Jade and Floyd Leech?”

But, where else can we find a thing so interesting?

Note: I can’t decide if I should use shrimps or koebi-chan so….idk comment on which one I should use for future Floyd stuff lol. Also first time writing any yan twst! Let’s hope I get it right lmao

(Speckled's End of Year Interaction Prompts, 12/2/24 ~ 1/1/25)

“Oya,” Jade exclaimed, “What strong language, [Name]-san. And after all the struggle we went through to see you again?” He simpered, sorrow every bit as faked as his surprise, “I’m deeply hurt.”

Unlike Jade, Floyd didn’t bother with theatrics. “Aha! Koeeeeebi-chan!” Floyd cried out, laughing with pure merriment, lunging toward your person. You shriek, dodging his initial lunge, but Floyd is unfairly reflexive and fast. Before you can so much as sprint, your limbs are already being squeezed in his hold. You gasp breathlessly, struggling to even breathe with how tightly he’s holding you. The sloppy, messy kiss Floyd gives you immediately doesn’t help matters either; it’s all spit and possessiveness, tongue practically going down your throat and teeth sinking into your lips.

From where you struggle and choke, Floyd only squeals with even more delight. “Squeeeeezeeeeeee~ Koebi-chan’s soooo soft,” he laughs, rubbing his cheek against your head, all crushing softness and joy, “I missed having you around, y’know. Leaving me with all those boring guppies—” and his voice drops, and his head dips into your neck, “—I probably should kill you for doing that to me,” he mutters, sharp teeth grazing your skin. At your tensing and shivering, he only breaks into more laughter, mood swinging back into perverted joy.

“Floyd, be careful with the dear,” Jade lightly chastised, “The poor thing looks like they’ll faint at any moment now. It’d be a shame to end things as quickly as they started, no?” His words are far from kind, far from concerned, even. They are ever bit as pleasured as Floyd’s laughs, and serve only to remind him that there’s more fun to be had from this.

Floyd doesn’t immediately let you go, but his hold lightens enough to where you can breathe steadily enough. “You feelin’ better?” Floyd sweetly asks, like he wasn’t the one who put you in this state in the first place.

You attempt to free yourself, but even in Floyd’s loose(r) hold, there is no escape. Floyd doesn’t even seem to struggle at all, yawning even as your flails grow more desperate. Floyd looks at your wall and zones out, his interest in you momentarily waned. Jade lightly chuckles at your plight.

You growl in frustration, “At least answer my questions!” You seethe, glaring at them both and baring your teeth, “I thought we were done. I thought I would be rid of you! So why are you here to torment me again?!”

You had met Jade and Floyd after exams, when Azul’s plans to take Ramshackle for himself were underway. After his overblot, you thought you were free of the twins torment of you, but they only kept pursuing you—without any directive from Azul whatsoever. It made every moment from the on in Twisted Wonderland unbearable, and when Crowley found a way for you to come back home, you took it at that instant. Sure, it was a bit cold to leave behind everyone without any goodbye, but who could blame you? Fault you? It wasn’t like everyone else there wasn’t selfish either, all in their own ways.

Even when you weren’t in Twisted Wonderland though, the twins haunted your dreams. They fed into your paranoia, your refusal to make friends, to love and kiss and be a silly student—it took you years to rip yourself from their influence, but you did it. You built a life for yourself with your own hands, and even Jade and Floyd Leech could stop you.

Until now, that is.

In classic Jade fashion, he finds an avenue to easily avoid giving answers. You might never get those answers, at this rate. “Torment? You must be mistaken,” Jade tsks, “As I recall, we gave you only the best; as ‘lovers’ do, I might add.”

Indignity flares in your chest. “Bullshit! You threatened me and my friends! Isolated and stalked me!”

“Hah?” You violently gasp, having the air knocked out of you. Your eyes bludge; your tongue lolls; your ribcage compresses like it’s cheap plastic beneath Floyd’s arms. “Those anemones were better company than us?” Floyd darkly mumbles, before laughing again, “Then again, you left us before, so you’re pretty stupid. Your opinions and stuff can’t really be trusted anymore.”

As if he ever cared before.

Jade doesn’t chide his brother this time. He lets out an appreciative hum as you truly choke. A gloved finger delicately rests on your cheek bone, before more are added to cup your cheek. As your vision spots with black, you are only caressed. As your eyes beg for mercy, mercy that anyone dying would beg for, only a chaste peck is given to your bloody lips. As tears of pure fear for the life before you and the sheer despair of losing everything again stream from your eyes, only laughter, one gently cruel and the other excitably sadistic.

“It would be an issue if you found out how we arrived here,” Jade finally answered, playing with a strand of your hair. “As Floyd so graciously pointed out, your decision making process cannot be trusted at this time.”

As if they ever would.

“Worry not, [Name]-san,” Jade grins wider. It’s not a nice smile; his teeth peak from it, and that’s always been a sign that he’s ready to take a bite from you. A sign that, as you quickly predicted, has him dipping his face against your juglar. “You’ll want for nothing in our care. Even this ‘freedom,’ you so cherish…”

He darkly chuckles.

“We’ll make it so it won’t be something they want for much longer, right Floyd?”

Laughter consumes your world before you completely succumb to the pressure, fated to wake in captivity for the rest of your life.

[twstowo]

I've seen fan art about what if the reader/yuu look like one of the bullies from Azul's past? I can no longer get the idea out of my head.

What makes it worse is that Azul loves them, but he also can't stand them because of his memories of the bully who looks like them.

♡︎This felt personal for a moment or two.

♡︎Also, what Fanart Anon??? Don't just leave me curious in here!!! I want to see what are you talking about.

He could spend most of his day just staring at you, wondering how such a wonderful person could have such a face. He longs to spend time with you, to show you how generous his soul is by offering you things no one else could ever give. He wants you to see how much better he is compared to all the other students at Night Raven College. He craves your attention, sending Floyd and Jade to deliver small gifts in the name of the Mostro Lounge.

But as soon as you approach him, and his mind registers how much you resemble one of his past bullies, something shifts. His thoughts lock in, and he can't stop the glare or the venomous words that spill from his mouth. He no longer resembles the kind Azul who gave you presents and offered you free meals at the Mostro Lounge. Instead, he becomes the cruel and lonely octomer who used to spend his days reading and brewing potions in the cold depths of the Coral Sea, far away from the other kids his age who mocked him for how he looked. He's filled with anger, angry that the world stole the childhood we only get to enjoy once, angry that he was always the one being ridiculed, angry that he was never anyone's first choice.

But you… you don’t treat him like that. You’ve never made fun of him, you’ve never chosen someone else over him. You've only been kind.

Every time you approach, his chest tightens with conflicting emotions. Part of him wants to retreat into the cold, dark shell he's built for himself over the years, while the other part, the softer part that craves connection, wants to reach out, to bask in your kindness. But he can’t let himself do that. Not when you look like them. Not when you remind him of everything he once despised.

He doesn’t understand why you bother to talk to him. Someone so perfect, so charming, what could you possibly want from him other than to mock him? You might think you're different, but he can see it in your eyes, you’re just like the others.

Yet, even when he hurls all those horrible things at you, you don’t flinch. You stand by his side, unwavering. You see right through him, and he hates that more than anything.

It takes him months to slowly open up, to crawl out of the hole he retreats into every time you walk by. Gradually, he stops sending Floyd and Jade to deliver his gifts for him. Instead, he tries to give them to you himself, but more often than not, he gives up halfway. He’ll stand there, flowers in hand, pacing the VIP room, wondering if it’s really worth it.

But you’re worth the struggle. He repeats those words over and over, convincing himself that you’re different, that you’re someone who will be there for him no matter what.

With one final deep breath, he opens the door to the VIP room, telling himself he won’t back down this time. He won’t do anything else until he gives you the flowers and finally apologizes for all the times he’s been so rude when all you ever wanted was to be his friend