#and his relationship with her in various tags and such

[judesmoonbeauty]

A Day With Jude Jazza: Chapter Three "16:00 Negotiations at Twilight"

Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

[Ellis POV]

Jeweler Man: And so, this is���..

After the three of us had eaten lunch, Kate was escorted back to the company, and I joined Jude for a business meeting.

(I’m just standing at the back but….)

From the view behind Jude, who’s sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed while smoking a cigarette, 

Those who know him, can see that he finds the situation annoying—.

Jude: My company recognizes the superior quality of the gemstones your company handles, 

Jude: Therefore, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to look over the products, if I may?

His fluent Queen’s English is a far cry from the usual Jude.

Jeweler Man: Certainly, here are the newest pieces that have just been completed.

When the man calls out, a person appears with a tray in hand, and places the products on the table. 

All of the various accessories that were superbly designed were decorated with colorful jewels.

Suddenly, Jude reached for a single necklace.

Jeweler Man: This one is made with a moonstone, and due to it being a delicate stone, we left it simple without much polishing.

(Somehow, it resembles Kate.)

The milky-white moonstone emits a soft light, giving a gentle impression. 

I didn’t miss the moment Jude’s profile softened as he gazed at it.

(Oh, he’s thinking about Kate now.)

Since they started dating, Jude looks kind from time to time.

I realized that he was thinking of Kate, because he has the same expression as he does when he looks at her from behind. 

Jeweler Man: Please take it, if it pleases you.

Jude: Hm? 

Jeweler Man: As a token of appreciation for the opportunity to do business with Raven.

As Jude hesitates, I discreetly whisper from behind.

Ellis: I think it suits Kate.

He glared so hard at me that I could’ve heard it, so I kept my mouth shut…..

Jude: ….I’d like to take this one, but I’ll pay for it.

Jude: To build a better relationship from here on.

That’s what he says, but I get it.

(It seems like he doesn’t want to give Kate something without doing anything for it.)

He has a strong sense of duty, that’s just how it is. 

(But I’m sure it’ll suit her and she’ll be happy.)

After watching the man rise from his seat to package the necklace, Jude then turns around.

Jude: What’re ya grinnin’ ‘bout, it’s creepy.

(Jude probably doesn’t realize it.)

Whenever he thinks of Kate, his expression softens.

Ellis: No, it’s nothing.

Jude: …..Tch.

(So, until the time Kate notices.)

Until then, I’ll keep playing dumb.

[Event Master list] [Next - ⏱♡ 18:00 - Night Raid: Jude POV]

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

If you wish to be added to my translations tag list, and are +18 YO, then please comment below! If you wish to be removed, please do the same.

Tag list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne

[heart-of-ep]

Elvis: Through Her Lens (Chapter One)

(Elvis Presley × OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley

Read More Here: Elvis: Through Her Lens (coming soon)

Prompt: You are Minnie Jones, an aspiring photographer working for the LA Sentinel. Your chief editor is looking for a story that will help boost the popularity of the paper, so an opportunity comes knocking when Colonel Tom Parker approaches him with a new 'snowjob.' After a tentative first meeting with the Colonel, and his star Elvis Presley, you are hired on to follow Elvis around as his personal photographer in an attempt to catch lightening in a bottle twice with the earlier success of the Alfred Wertheimer photos. Along the way, you develop a close bond with Elvis, leading to complications in your relationship when the issues of his marriage and eventual drug usage start to put a strain on your relationship. Constantly fighting your ever-growing feelings for him, you are swept up into the whirlwind of Elvis' world, which forces you to see the King of Rock 'n' Roll through a new lens.

Tags: Slow burn. Angst. Drama. Friends to lovers (sort of).

Rating: PG-13 (ish) (may get spicy but won't be explicit as I don't enjoy writing smut lol but cursing, possible violence, prescription drug use, and infidelity will appear throughout the story.)

Word Count: 3.6k

Author's Note: Hey everyone! My name is Mari (aka heart.of.ep on here and Instagram!) and I'm so excited to finally be diving into the world of Elvis fanfiction after being a hard-core fan for almost three years now. This is my first time writing in a long while, and it's only my second time writing a fanfiction, so I hope I'm able to entertain you with this story and I hope everyone has a fun time reading it!

I did create an OC for this story as I have an easier time writing with a specific character in mind, but I kept it in second person as to give readers the opportunity to self insert in a way. Wasn't a fan of this POV at first but its really grown on me so hopefully I've done it well haha.

This story will begin by following Elvis in 1970 (my favorite year 🤭) but will continue on throughout the early 1970s! There may be some historical inaccuracies along the way to accommodate the presence of Minnie Jones, but of course I'm always striving to keep things as accurate as I possibly can.

I don't think I will have a specific upload schedule or regular time for posting, but I'll try my best to be as frequent as I can with uploading chapters. Any comments, thoughts, reblogs, etc are very much appreciated and I genuinely hope everyone loves this story as much as I do. 🙏

If you'd like to be tagged in any chapters going forward, just comment and let me know!

Thank you once again and I hope everyone enjoys!

February, 1970

Los Angeles, CA

~*~*~*~*~*~

Elvis Presley.

The most photographed man in the world, and for good reason it seemed. Impossibly blue eyes that swirled like the depth of an ocean, statuesque like features that even a Greek god would most likely be jealous of, and a brilliant smile that sent millions of girls and women all around the world into a complete frenzy whenever he flashed it their way.

It made perfect sense then why his face was pretty much plastered on every magazine you ever came in contact with. Not to mention the various movie posters you would often see at the theater throughout the years. You could even recall being just about twelve years old when Love Me Tender first hit theaters. Even at such a young age, you could see why everyone sitting around you in that dark theater were either crying or screaming. His beauty seemed to transcend the realm of normal.

As hyperbolic as it may seem, no one in the world looked like Elvis Presley, that much was certain.

Unfortunately, while many photos exist, most are heavily curated, either on a movie set or in a studio with lighting and makeup. It didn't make him any less beautiful, but it did give the fans and the public a very specific view of the King, one controlled by Hollywood and his manager, Colonel Tom Parker.

In the early days, there were hundreds of photos of Elvis that appeared in newspapers from fans and those photographers who were lucky enough to capture a picture of lightning in a bottle. But those days were far gone, and nothing like it has surfaced since.

And that's exactly why you had been brought to your editor's office early one morning in February of 1970. You had been busy working on gathering photos for a local political campaign, which was a real bore, but someone had to do it and you didn't exactly have the seniority to say no. But when your manager called you about a new project, you were practically chomping at the bit to accept. Of course, you wanted to hear him out first.

“You've been doing great work, Minnie. These shots are truly some of the best this paper has seen in a while.�� Your editor, Mr Pierce, said as he looked over the pictures you had submitted this morning.

“Thank you, sir. Though, I think there's only so much I can do to make a rally look interesting.” You said jokingly.

Your boss snorted. “You're right about that.” He sighed before sitting the folder down on his desk. “Which is exactly why I called you here. I think your talents are being wasted on shit like this.” He said bluntly. Your boss never did sugarcoat. “I was recently brought an opportunity from a rather…private sort of individual, and I think you would be the perfect fit.”

You raised an eyebrow, now rather curious. Usually your paper only covered public events or individuals. “Who exactly is it?”

Pierce seemed hesitant at first to tell you, but eventually he decided to just come right out and say it. “Elvis Presley.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "Elvis Presley?” You weren’t sure if you had cotton in your ears or if maybe you were imagining it, but Pierce noticed your surprise and quickly added some context to explain.

“Yes, Elvis Presley. I can’t say I had a very different reaction when his manager called me a couple days ago.” He said as he sat down in the chair behind his desk. “I’m sure you know that Mr Presley has been taking a step back into live performances this past year, which means every photographer worth a damn is chomping at the bit to capture the ‘best’ photo of him possible for their respective news outlet. So far they’ve been doing a damn good job. Meanwhile, we’ve got nothing.” He grumbled in frustration. “Needless to say, Presley is the hottest talk in town, and we’re failing to keep up.”

You furrowed your brow a bit. “I don’t understand…why did his manager contact us?” If there were already dozens of papers covering Elvis’s shows from all across the world, then why contact a somewhat small paper in Los Angeles?

Pierce seemed to light up at your question. “I had the same question, my dear.” He stood up again, unable to sit still. “Are you familiar with Alfred Wertheimer?”

The name was instantly recognizable. Any real photographer knew of Wertheimer’s work, especially if you knew anything about Elvis Presley. “Of course I know about him. His work with Presley is still amazing even now.” You said, trying your best to keep your adulation in check.

“Well, no photo of Elvis Presley has been taken like that since Wertheimer almost fifteen years ago.” He frowned a bit. “Seems as though his manager,” and apparent publicist, “wants to change that. With all this new buzz surrounding Presley, he wants to see if he can capture lightning in a bottle twice.”

It quickly began to dawn on you what this all meant exactly. “Shit.” You muttered under your breath.

Perhaps Alfred Wertheimer didn’t mean much to the uninitiated, but the photographs of Elvis were completely unprecedented. Just at the cusp of fame and without the glitz and glamor that would soon overtake him in Hollywood, Wertheimer was able to capture a view of Elvis that was both intimate, but also honest and revealing in a way that didn’t feel voyeuristic in the slightest. It was the picture and story of an Elvis Presley that still felt entirely obtainable and human. It was truly a special form of artistic expression that only a photographer with a great deal of talent could accomplish.

Which is precisely why you were sitting there staring at your boss like he had completely lost his mind. “S-sir...you’re not suggesting that I…?”

Pierce smiled at you and nodded. “I knew immediately that you’d be the perfect candidate, my dear. After all, it was your photos covering the Nixon inauguration that sparked Mr Parker’s curiosity to begin with.”

You practically felt your heart leap in your chest, leaving you utterly speechless for a long moment. This was definitely a step up from a local mayoral campaign.

The prospect of photographing someone as famous as Elvis Presley was exciting on its own, but from how your boss explained it, this wouldn’t be a simple snap and go for a quick column on page four of the paper. To compare it to Wertheimer’s work made you realize just how important this opportunity was. This side of Elvis hadn’t been captured in over a decade, and no doubt it would catapult your career towards opportunities you’ve only ever dreamed of covering.

“Well?” Pierce’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Of course, we would still have to meet with Mr Parker and Mr Presley.” He said as he sat back down in his chair.

You parted your lips, not sure what to say at first before you finally pushed your excitement down and immediately stood up. “Well? Of course I want to!” You said, practically grinning from ear to ear. “Jesus, Pierce, this is amazing!”

He smirked a bit. “I take it you’re an Elvis fan?”

You rolled your eyes. “Everyone likes Elvis, but that’s not what matters. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” You had to stop yourself from jumping with joy.

He laughed a little before standing up again as he dialed a number on his phone. “Presley just finished up his current residency in Las Vegas. According to Parker he’ll be back here in Los Angeles before leaving for a string of concerts in Houston.” He held the phone up to his ear. “We can plan a meeting between you two beforehand. After all, this whole thing is dependent on Elvis Presley liking you enough to let you follow him around.”

You felt your smile dissipate a little at that realization. You hadn’t exactly considered that part in the few minutes you had to think about everything. You were charming enough, but this was Elvis Presley. Enough wouldn’t cut it. You swallowed a bit, but nodded, ignoring the sudden flurry of nerves that swarmed in your stomach.

This is your one shot, Minn. Don’t screw this up.

The next few hours felt like a whirlwind. You spent the majority of that time researching anything and everything about Elvis Presley. As it turns out, a lot had happened since his pictorial debut in Love Me Tender. You hadn’t exactly been keeping up with his career, and now all of it seemed a bit overwhelming. You weren’t sure what to expect from a man like him, especially since any other celebrity you had the opportunity to meet usually turned out to be a total asshole. You didn’t think he would be any different. After all, the humble southerner with perfect manners and an award winning smile just felt too good to be true.

You flipped through a magazine from the stack on your desk, biting your lip in concentration as you read over the raving reviews from Elvis’ previous engagement at the International Hotel in Vegas last summer. You vaguely remember one of your girlfriends at the time mentioning it in passing, but you hadn’t thought much of it. Now you wondered if you were completely insane for having overlooked the entire thing.

The photos of him were truly magnificent, picturing him in a slim fitting two piece jumpsuit that seemed inspired by the style of a karate gi. It alternated between black and white depending on the night of the show, and you couldn’t help but think about how well the black complemented his dark chiseled features. It was a much different look than his earlier appearances throughout the sixties. The greased back hair was now loose and untamed, a reflection of the evolving style in the entertainment world, and the button ups and blazers now seemed to be replaced by a bare chested look accompanied by a stylish scarf around the neck.

Quite frankly, it was hard not to get caught up in the image of him, but you quickly reminded yourself that even though he was Elvis Presley, world famous superstar, he was also just a subject for you to photograph at the end of the day.

A very beautiful subject, indeed.

You practically chewed off all of your fingernails by the time Pierce came out of his office in the early afternoon, approaching your desk with an optimistic look in his eyes. “Good news, Minn, it looks like you’ll be meeting Elvis Presley tonight.”

Your heart leaped in your chest as you stood up from your desk, prying your eyes away from the papers on your desk. “Really? He agreed to the meeting?”

“He sure did, though I doubt that manager gave him much of a choice.” He snorted. “A real carny, that one, but it’ll all be worth it if we can secure this job. Our paper will practically fly off the stands if you can snap those photos.” He grinned.

“Right, no pressure.” You mumbled, trying to ease your growing anxiety as you imagined all the ways this could possibly go wrong.

“Don’t worry, Minn. You’re charming and pretty. Knowing Presley’s reputation, that’ll surely be enough.” He smirked, nudging you a bit before turning on his heel toward his office.

You shot him a glare before letting out a deep breath as you quickly gathered up your portfolio, shoving the photographs inside the binder before standing up and pulling your coat on. You refused to let your nerves get the best of you, after all, this is your job. And as such, you weren’t going to let this opportunity slip through your fingers.

The ride over to Beverly Hills felt long and seemingly endless. You kept staring out the window, focusing your gaze on the large mansions that you drove past, frowning as you realized just how out of your league you really felt. After all, you hadn’t exactly been to this side of LA. The few times you had gotten the chance to photograph a celebrity, it had always been at some sort of public event like an awards show or some kind of charity fundraiser. This, however, felt like a strange new world that you were entering.

You briefly wondered why Elvis and his manager didn’t just come down to the office to conduct this whole ‘interview’ or set up a meeting somewhere on Sunset Blvd, but when you asked Pierce about it, he simply explained the logistics of having Elvis Presley go somewhere so public. You didn’t think much of it, assuming that since it’s Los Angeles nobody would care very much about a celebrity walking around, but then you recalled the different articles you had read and figured maybe Elvis didn’t quite fit into that category.

You chewed on your fingernails, watching as the mansions grew larger before you finally descended upon a set of cast iron gates blocking a long driveway that kept a house just out of view. Much to your surprise, there was a fairly large group of fans already stationed outside, giggling amongst themselves as they took photos with their polaroid cameras. You glanced at Pierce, giving him a skeptical look to which he simply shrugged. He pulled up to the gates, and without having to push a doorbell of any kind, the gates buzzed and suddenly opened up, the crowd of fans quickly dispersing out of the way.

It surprised you to see that they didn’t try following the car inside, but they stayed respectful and stuck to the exterior as the gates closed shut behind you and Pierce pulled forward, parking his car next to a small, but impressive, collection of Cadillacs. You figured if everything fell through with Elvis, maybe he’d be okay with you snapping a few photos of his cars as a consolation gift.

Once again, you pushed down the flurry of nerves that settled in your stomach, realizing it was stupid to feel so nervous over a simple meeting. After all, it’s not like you were the one who set the whole thing up, if they weren’t really interested, they wouldn’t have gone through all of this trouble. That thought helped qualm the uneasiness you felt as you stepped out of the car, looking up at the gorgeous home that overlooked the rolling hills below.

It really did feel like the perfect place for a superstar like Elvis to live.

“Come on, Miss Jones, we’re about to make history.” Pierce grinned as he took the lead, following the brick pathway up to the front door of the mansion.

You self consciously kept messing with your hair, tucking the loose strands behind your ear and pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose as you anxiously awaited for the door to open. When the door opened, you and Pierce were met by a rather short fellow with a goofy smile.

“Mr Pierce?” The man in front of you inquired.

Your boss nodded and smiled. “Yes, and this is my associate Miss Jones.” He said as he gestured toward you. “I believe Mr Parker is expecting us?”

The fellow nodded and smiled again as he quickly stepped aside to let the two of you in. “Right this way.” He closed the door behind him and then led you down the long hallway that acted as the entranceway before spilling out into a rather lavishly decorated and open floor plan. You briefly considered how many rooms the house had before realizing it was probably too many to count from this juncture.

“The Colonel is waiting in the office.” The man said, interrupting your thoughts as he led you and Pierce down another hall towards a beautiful sculpted oak door.

“What about Mr Presley?” You asked without thinking.

“Elvis will be down shortly.” He replied, once again with a lopsided grin before he knocked on the door to the office and pushed it open. “Colonel? Those two journalists from the Los Angeles Sentinel are here.”

“Send them in.” You heard a strange sounding voice say from inside the office.

The man stepped aside, letting Pierce and you step into the room. Your gaze immediately fell upon the robust man sitting at the desk, a large almost comical sized cigar sticking out of his mouth, and a stylish looking barét that clashed with the rest of his ensemble. His steely gaze landed on both you and Pierce the moment you stepped into the room, regarding the two of you with a frown before he removed his cigar and put it out in the ash tray.

Pierce glanced at you, giving a look that said more than enough, before looking at the somewhat unsettling man. “Uh, you must be Mr Parker–”

“Colonel.” The man huffed, his accent a strange mix of southern and something else you couldn't quite identify.

“Excuse me?” Pierce asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Colonel Tom Parker.” The man repeated himself before smiling, though it seemed off and not at all genuine.

Pierce cleared his throat. “Right. Colonel Parker. My name is Steven Pierce, I'm the editor of the LA Sentinel. We spoke over the phone a few times.” He said before gesturing to you. “This is my associate, Minnie Jones. She's one of my best photographers and the one responsible for the portfolio I sent you.” He explained.

The Colonel glanced your way, regarding you for a long moment. If you weren't self conscious already, you certainly were now, but you refused to let yourself show how nervous you were.

“Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you.” You said, stepping forward and extending your hand for him to shake.

The Colonel snorted, which struck you immediately as rude, but he shook your hand regardless. You did your best to hide your frown, making sure this man didn't pick up on your displeasure at his general demeanor. “I have to say, Miss Jones, I'm quite impressed with your photos here.” He said as he sat back in his seat, opening up a binder in front of him. “I can't say I was super eager at the idea of someone following my boy around, least of all someone working for a lousy tabloid. But it seems like any publicity is good publicity, my dear.”

You glanced at Pierce for a moment, quickly registering the anger that flashed across his face, before cutting in. “Yes, well…I think this could be very beneficial for Mr Presley. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words. And with all due respect, the LA Sentinel is a newspaper, not a tabloid. We just want to publish the truth, not lies.” You said calmly.

"Truth is subjective.” The Colonel shot back. “But it's true that my boy needs some good publicity. After all, a good thing can't last forever.” He said before standing up. “I'll make it simple for you, Miss Jones. All photos taken must be submitted and approved by me before printing. If I find out they're not, you won't have a story to tell anymore.” He said bluntly.

You swallowed a bit before nodding.

“Secondly, Elvis appreciates his privacy as you might imagine, so you will be working according to his schedule and his requests. Simply put, if he doesn't want you there, you won't be there.” He said as he picked up his cigar and stuck it back between his lips.

That's when Pierce cut in. “With all due respect, Colonel, my employee isn’t going to work at the whim of your client. This is still a job at the end of the day.” You shoot him a glare, not wanting him to ruin the opportunity for you, even if you knew he was right.

“Don't worry, Mr Peers,” The Colonel said, purposely mispronouncing his name, “Miss Jones will be accommodated, but if you two want the story you're looking for, you'll have to work with my boy’s fluctuating schedule.” He explained. “That won't be a problem, will it?”

Before Pierce could say anything, you stepped forward. “Of course not. I'm sure we can work with whatever his schedule may be.” You said firmly.

“Good.” The Colonel smiled, much to Pierce's chagrin. “We’ll write up a proper contract with all the logistics before you leave, but I think now is a great time for you to meet Elvis.”

Suddenly all your nerves instantly returned, but before you had much time to even think about what was happening, the Colonel was walking out the door and down the hall. Both you and Pierce quickly followed, keeping with his surprisngly fast pace as he limped with his cane towards the living room area you had passed by earlier.

“Minn, are you sure about this?” Pierce hissed by your ear as he leaned over to you. “This isn't exactly what I thought you were signing up for.”

You looked up at him, biting your lip for a second before nodding, standing firm with your decision. “C’mon, Pierce. We both know this is too good to pass up.” You whispered before the three of you entered the room.

The man who had let you into the house earlier was there with a couple of other guys you hadn't seen. You saw that Elvis wasn't there, frowning a bit as you folded your arms and looked at the Colonel. “Where's Mr Presley?” You asked, feeling a little impatient and maybe a little excited.

“Right here, honey.”

You froze, goosebumps rolling over your skin for some inexplicable reason, as if some kind of force you didn't recognize had suddenly entered the room. You slowly turned around, coming face to face with the most famous man in the world.

Shit.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list ~

Taglist: @60svintage @moonchild-daniella @ken-kenzie-zie

[zylphiacrowley]

I desperately need to know the lore of his heartbreak with his first love (pls? <3)

Despite me not writing hardly at all anymore, I do happen to have a sort of half stream-of-consciousness half narrative thing that I wrote about this exact subject from a while ago. I'm going to put it under a cut though because I get super self-conscious about my writing and also it's like... kind of long? (Also ty for allowing me to lore-dump ♡)

Four summers had passed since he left his tribe's lands as X'vahl wandered the area putting the survival skills his father had taught him to good use. One day he made camp alongside a river, intending to only stay there for a short while. A few days later he woke to a spear aimed at his throat and a young miqo'te woman on the other end of it. She informed him he was on her people's land, and he needed to leave or she would kill him. Being only 18 summers old he told her that she was beautiful, and he would be happy to die by her hand. This, by some divine providence, did not get him murdered on the spot. Instead, she laid down her spear, perhaps out of pity, and introduced herself as M'likki Trais, a daughter of the M tribe. X'vahl was instantly smitten with her and before she left, asked if she would visit him again. She told him no.

      Two days later, M'likki returned. She claimed it was to see if he had left, but in truth, she found him fascinating. He found her beautiful. She returned the next day, and he made her dinner from the fish he caught earlier that morning. She returned the day after that, and he played her a song he had overheard a traveler singing on his own journey. She soon found herself enjoying her time with him. She enjoyed her time with him so much she spent the night with him. Then she spent another night with him. Each morning she'd return home, only to find her way back to his camp around sundown. He told her he was falling in love with her, she said she thought she might feel the same.

      One evening M'likki didn't return to his camp at sundown. He began to worry if he had done something wrong. She didn't return the next evening either. He began to worry if something had happened to her. Finally after a month had passed, she returned. She looked exhausted. Worried, he asked what happened. She hesitated before telling him she was with child… his child. It was as if everything in the world came to a sudden stop upon hearing this news. Unexpected, but not unwelcome, X'vahl came crashing back to reality, he was overjoyed to hear the news and he told her as much. She did not tell him she was terrified. She did not stay the night that night. She did, however return the next day. She told him she had a plan. She would lay with her tribe's Nuhn so as not to arouse suspicion when she started showing. X'vahl did not like this plan, but M'likki told him that after she gave birth they could go away together. She did not want to have this child without the aid of the tribe, and more importantly, her mother and sisters, during childbirth. Reluctantly, X'vahl agreed. Over the next several months her visits to his camp became unpredictable. X'vahl assumed that the tribe was looking after her as it was probably getting harder for her to hunt now. Though every time she did return he grew more and more excited at the idea that he was going to be a father.

      After a period of a couple weeks of M'likki not visiting she returned and with her she had two infants in her arms. She had given birth to twins, a boy and a girl. She told X'vahl she had given their son the name M'raiel and their daughter M'vahren. She let him hold his children. He felt his heart overflowing with joy. The bond was instantaneous. Their ears and tails were so small and they had his eyes. M'likki left the next morning, taking their children with her. He did not know it but he would not get to see them again.

      It was several weeks before she returned to his camp again alone this time. She looked terrified and would not meet his eyes. She struggled to tell him that she wouldn't go away with him. That she would stay with her tribe and raise their children with their help. X'vahl felt his whole world come grinding to a halt a second time at her words. Everything went quiet. The sound of the river drowned to silence by the deafening sinking feeling in his heart. When he regained enough of his senses he looked at her looking at him. She was scared of him. She was scared of what he would do next. He felt another stab at his heart seeing the fear in her eyes directed at him. He quietly assured her he could never do anything to hurt her. He told her if she looked for him tomorrow, she would not find him. He asked if she would tell their children about him. She quietly told him she wouldn't. She told him for their safety and his, she couldn't. After M'likki returned to her tribe that night X'vahl packed all his things and left.

[imogenkol]

KINCADE PACK 🐺 (original works) — “The name goes back centuries, and all Miranda cares about is making sure it lasts for many more”

[template by @tommyarashikage]

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @simonxriley @voidika @kyberinfinitygems @voidbuggg @inafieldofdaisies @statichvm @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch @a-treides @shellibisshe @loriane-elmuerto @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @g0dspeeed @leviiackrman @strangefable @jacobseed

[marinecorvid]

blorbos from my brain

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[fungateshortcakes]

Jealous much?

Pairing: dofp!Logan x fem!teacher!Reader

Summary: What happens when Logan finds the father of one of your students flirting with you after class?

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: Jealous!Logan, established relationship (you are married), flirting, Logan asserting dominance to the guy that thinks he has a chance with you, smitten Logan bc he loves u so much, reader is implied to be 'turned on' once, no use of (y/n), english is not my first language!

_________________

I love love LOVE jealous Logan. Someone (I think it was by @pandapetals) made a fic where Logan and reader were married and a students mother was flirting with Logan, which pissed reader off and she has to show the lady who has that man wrapped around her finger already. That was so YUMMY so this is the Logan-being-jealous counterpart, hope you enjoy!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The end of the school day brought with it a familiar sense of relief and exhaustion. You loved your job, but after spending hours with a classroom full of high-energy students, you were ready to pack up and head to your room in the mansion.

The thought of your shared room and of your husband Logan waiting there brought a small smile to your face. But as you were tidying up your desk, the last few students leaving your classroom, you heard a voice call your name. Your head wiped around as you heard it. “Excuse me, Miss!” At first, you thought it was one of your students, but their voice was too deep to be a teenage boy.

You turned to see Mr. Reed, a tall, polished man with a charming smile. You recognized him immediately. He was the father of one of your more rambunctious students, Jason Reed. He seemed to live in this school, it was weird just how often you saw him around. He attended every single one of the parent evenings you hosted - only yours. And he often sought you out to have a conversation with him and his son. You didn't think too much of it, it was your job after all to answer the parents questions if they had any concerns.

You gave him a friendly wave as he approached. “Oh, hey, Mr. Reed” you greeted warmly, pausing in your steps. "Is there something you needed?

The man gave a casual shrug, slipping his hands into the pockets of his well-tailored suitjacket. “I was hoping to catch you for a moment. My son just won’t stop talking about you. Miss "the-coolest-teacher-ever’” he added with a chuckle, his blue eyes holding a distinct shimmer in them.

You laughed softly. Hearing this went down like honey. You were always happy to know that your students were enjoying your class. You were the teacher you wanted to be since you were a student yourself. The teacher that made other students feel safe, that didn't make them feel like they were pressured and had to deliver a certain level of performance to be good enough "Well, Jason is a great kid. He’s got so much energy. I can barely keep up sometimes, but I’m glad to hear he is liking my classes this far."

“Oh, absolutely. You’ve really made a difference for him” Mr. Reed said, his voice dipping into something smoother, something deeper. “He’s had a hard time adjusting to his mutation, you know. And the abilities that come with it. But since he’s been in your class, I can tell he’s a lot happier. More confident" he praised you highly, teeth bared in a dashing smile to you. “And that’s all thanks to you. I don’t know how you do it, managing a class full of kids with various mutations and powers they can't quite control yet. It’s impressive.”

You waved your hand dissmisvely at the single father, giggling bashfully. You weren't used to such direct praise from parents, not even from him. “I'm flattered, but it’s not just me" you replied modestly. “Mr. Xavier has build a great support system over the years.”

Mr. Reed clicked his tounge at your humble answer. “Don’t sell yourself short” he flashed you another grin. “You clearly have a talent with kids. Jason has made more progress in the past few months than he ever has before. I’m not sure how I could ever thank you properly.”

His tone was friendly for the time being. The conversation continued. And at first it felt completely professional, how it should be. Mr. Reed asked about Jason’s curriculum, your teaching methods and even about the schools approach to managing the students unique abilities. You were more than happy to answer all his questions, oblivious to the way he started inching closer.

“It’s just refreshing” he said, leaning casually against the wall next to you, his eyes subtly roaming your figure “to meet someone as smart, kind and beautiful as you. Jason’s lucky to have you as his teacher. The whole class is.”

The realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t just being nice. He was flirting. You blinked, your polite smile faltering. “Oh, um, thank you” you replied, starting to feel a little awkward. It showed with the way you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. A sign for him that you were all shy and bashful around him. Far from that. You felt really uncomfortable.

"I’m lucky, too, really” he added, fueling the bad feeling in your gut. His eyes sweeped over you, this time less subtle, in a way that made your skin prickle, but not the good kind.

Then he decided to just go for it and ask the big question. He was impatient and wasn't in the mood to wait until you initiated something first. He had waited long enough. “Do you ever take time for yourself? Maybe let someone take you out for dinner?”

Your composure completely faltered for a second. The nerve this guy had. Didn't he see the obvious gold ring on your finger or did he purposefully decided to ignore it? You opened your mouth, trying to come up with a diplomatic way to shut this down, but you didn’t get the chance to.

“Everything alright in here?”

Logan’s gruff voice cut through the hallway like a blade, low and unmistakably annoyed. You turned to see him striding toward you, eyeing Mr. Reed like a wild animal stalking its prey. His broad shoulders were squared, his jaw set, and his dark eyes locked onto the other man with visible irritation.

You jumped as if you had just been caught cheating. “Logan” you squeaked surprised.

He huffed through his nose, his nostrils flaring like the ones of an angry bull that was riled up by the red in its vision. Well, when he had this loser of a man flirt with a goddess like you, his goddess, then he saw red. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt” Logan nearly growled, his tone anything but apologetic as he stopped next to you.

Mr. Reed blinked, clearly caught off guard. He swallowed thickly “Oh, I was just-” he tried to save the situation, or rather his own life, but Logan cut him off. “Flirtin’ with my wife?” Logan asked, arching a brow.

Mr. Reed’s face went pale as the snow falling outside the mansion, coating the gardenwith a thin layer of white. His eyes searched for your hand. They went wide as he looked at the wedding band you had been proudly wearing for six years now as if it had just appeared. “You-wait, you’re married?”

“Sure am” Logan said, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you firmly against his side, securing you there. Marking his territory. His grip was warm and possessive and you could feel the tension radiating from him.

Mr. Reed stammered, his eyes darting between you and Logan in embarrassement and if you looked correctly, a little bit of fear. “I-I had no idea. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” he stuttered out, laughing awkwardly in a bad attempt to play down his nervousness.

“Yeah, well, now you know,” Logan said flatly. “So maybe next time, think twice before you try to fuck someones woman" he spat, taking a step closer to Mr. Reed. You gasped softly at Logans word and placed a hand on his chest, giving him a warning look. “Logan” you muttered softly, trying to rein him in like a guard dog that was ready to pounce if its owner let him. You couldn't say that this side of him didn't turn you on immensly. But you didn’t need to get scolded by Charles for scaring off a parent.

But Logan wasn’t done. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “And just so we’re clear, she’s not interested. Ever” He snarled, down right barked his last word into Reeds face, who then mumbled another apology before practically fleeing down the hallway, leaving you alone with Logan.

Once he was gone, you turned to your husband with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “and that was really necessary?" you chuckled with a proud smirk. “Damn right it was” Logan replied, his hand still possessively gripping your hips, smoothing over them. “Guy needed to know who he was dealin’ with.”

You sighed, but your lips twitched into a small smile as you leaned against your broad and strong teddy bear of a husband. “You know I can handle myself, right?”

Logans lips pulled into the slightest smile as he looked down at you as if you were the most precious thing in the whole universe. “Yeah, I know” Logan muttered, his tone softening as he admired your pretty face. That pretty face he had the privilege to wake up to every morning because you were his wife. His. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna let some jackass hit on you though.”

You giggled, shaking your head fondly, reaching up to cup his gruff cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”

Logan shrugged “Maybe” he said, smirking. “But you like ridiculous. Wouldn’t have married me otherwise, missy" he rumbled deep in his chest, making you smile because it was the truth. You married him for it. Married him for everything he was. “Guilty as charged" you murmured with a smile, standing on your toes to kiss him softly.

Logan’s arms wrapped around you fully, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. By the time he pulled away, his loving smirk had returned, but his eyes were filled with something softer. Something only you got to see. Something that you wanted to see for the rest of your life just from him.

“Still don’t like sharin’,” he muttered. You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You don’t have to.”

And as Logan laced his fingers with yours, leading you towards the mansions garden to take a relaxing stroll through the green and white landscape after this unpleasant encounter, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the man who’d fight the world to keep you by his side.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

And weirdly enough, you never saw Mr. Reed after that, not even at the parent evenings. I wonder why...

If you liked this- like, comments and reblog! It helps a lot🎀

[lovscb97]

tags: nerd!bang chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, inexperienced chan, experienced reader, kissing, slight corruption kink, kinda toxic relationship, oral sex (f. receiving), face-sitting, exhibitionism lowkey (they’re in a locker room), nicknames (channie, baby, pretty boy), angst kinda?, porn with some plot, etc

wc: 2.06k

add. notes: these previews kilt me. they Kilt Me. therefore i present to u face-sitting with nerd chan. it's not entirely pwp but enjoy anyways :3

nerd!chan pt. 2 / nerd!chan headcannons / drabble #1

. . . 

you’re not quite sure how you got here, honestly. one moment, you’re out at cheer practice with your girls, doing complicated stunts and diligently rehearsing the rigorous routines outlined for the upcoming game, all with your coach blowing her whistle every other minute of course. but the next? 

you’re in a stuffy locker room making out with the captain of the mathletes team as he pants against your mouth, begging you for more.

it started off with a simple favour— you needed somebody to help you get your grades up after missing one too many classes, and chan was the best in the year; naturally, you asked for his assistance. he’d gone wide in the eyes and red in the face when you’d walked up to him after your shared lecture, leaving you biting back a laugh at the way he stuttered over his words over the prospect of teaching you, even refusing at first. to your fortunate pleasure however, you convinced him to agree in the end, which is how you ended up at your first session in his house, crammed together on his childhood bed and eyeing the walls of his room littered with spelling bee awards and academic medals from various competitions. 

somehow down the line of those little sessions, you and chan grew closer, bonding over your shared love for movies and hidden local diners in your city, and the first time you hung out with him outside of the guise of studying at those very local diners, you found yourselves grinding against each other in the backseat of his beatdown car. you still remember the way he fumbled over himself, red ears burning and big doe eyes blinking up at you as you kissed him, albeit awkward with his lack of expertise but still sweet in the way he held you close to him. you suppose that’s where your little ‘sessions’ turned into a special type of studying, and where this charade began to unfold as your dirty secret.

which brings you back to now. 

“need.. need you.” chan huffs, pulling away momentarily from messily locking his lips with yours as you breathe heavily against him. you blink for a moment as if processing his words, and a cheeky smile spreads across your face slowly as you take in his disheveled hair and blown out features. “yeah? what do you need, pretty boy?” you tease, trailing a single finger across his pale skin to trace the outline of his collarbone, feeling him shiver under your touch as a low whine escapes his mouth. 

“need to taste you.” he mumbles shyly, and you coo at the way he hangs his head low as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, hooking a finger under his chin to get a look at his slightly teary eyes. when they finally make contact with yours, you can’t help but smile softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips that has your insides positively melting. 

sometimes you realise that despite his enthusiasm in engaging with you, chan is just a soft-spoken boy. he’s so untouched and pure that it makes you want to absolutely break him, to taint that perfect image he’s put on and quite literally corrupt him to become your toy. amidst that realisation, it also dawns on you that one day he’ll come to terms with the fact that this isn’t what he deserves, that this isn’t how he should be enjoying his firsts with someone who doesn’t even have the nerve to commit to him and how he’ll move on sooner or later to find somebody better that can give him what he wants without needing to hide it. the mere thought of it always leaves your stomach swirling in bitterness and disgust, but you swallow the lump it creates at the back of your throat because those are feelings you’re yet not ready to confront, and for now, if this is what you can have, then this is what you’ll take.

“and how do you want me?” you ask lowly, taking chan’s hand in yours and placing it on your waist, feeling the way he bunches up the fabric of your cheer outfit in his palm. “tell me.” you murmur. “tell me and i’ll give it all to you.”

“want you to sit my face.” he gasps out, hooded eyes staring at you as the words leave his mouth, and suddenly all your self restraint is snapping in half. before you know it, you’re yanking him by the collar of his brown jacket, smashing your lips together once more and swallowing the squeak of surprise that leaves him. the kiss is desperate, and wet, and sloppy, but neither of you care about it or the fact that anyone could walk in and see you both, far too lost in each other to give much of a damn. 

“get on the bench.” you demand once you’ve retracted yourself from him, chan’s wide pupils searching yours to see if you’re serious. when you don’t say anything or move, he’s immediately scrambling for his balance and toppling back onto the wooden structure, drawing a small giggle from you that has his insides tightening and jeans straining. 

“wait!” he blurts out as you move to hook your fingers into your skirt, swallowing when you raise an eyebrow at him. “keep it on.” he whispers, and you swear your heart stops beating right then and there. you nod slowly after a while in understanding, because that’s all you fear you can manage without actually jumping his bones in that moment. 

“lay on your back.” you quietly instruct, and chan eagerly follows like a puppy taking orders from its owner. he yelps when his snapback falls off his head at the angle he’s at, but you’re quick to catch it, pushing it back onto his curls with a wink as you straddle his face. “keep it on.” you mimic his words from earlier, chuckling at the way his cheeks flush pink at your response because by god, he was far too cute for his own good. 

“wait a minute,” chan’s eyes widen when he at last focuses his attention on you and gets a glimpse of your drenched core. “were you.. were you not wearing anything under your skirt?” he questions cautiously, nearly choking when you merely shrug. “i like easy access.” a devious smirk journeys across your face when you answer him, and chan has to bite back a moan at the idea of you parading around commando all day. his imagination doesn’t get the chance to run too wild, because by the time he can even register what’s happening, you’re already lowering yourself onto his awaiting mouth, groans leaving the two of you at the fact that you’re both finally, finally getting what you’ve been waiting for all day.

“fuck,” chan curses into you, and you hiss at the way his words rumble deep in his chest and travel through your core. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” he breathes out once more, swiping through your folds hysterically as your taste invades his senses. you’re everywhere, in his mind, his mouth, even his soul, especially from the way you begin to slowly rock yourself back and forth on his wet muscle. he swears he might die a happy man today when he feels your thighs smothering him on each side, hands moving up to grip the plush of them before he’s sticking his tongue out and letting you ride it.

“how are you so good at this?” you laugh to yourself in disbelief, biting your lip at the way his nose bumps against your clit perfectly each time he lets you move yourself against him. chan merely grunts in response, too engrossed in eating you out to even answer, and when he pulls you down to suck on your swollen bundle of nerves, you swear you see stars. the only thing heard in the isolated locker room you’re currently going at it in by now are the lewd slurps coming from his mouth along with your whimpers, which only get higher in pitch the more he continues to eat at you.

“so damn good.” chan keens. “so fucking wet, and sweet too.” his words only spur you on further, and before you know it, the telltale signs of your orgasm are creeping up on you. chan shows no signs of stopping though, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises and pulling you impossibly further down on his mouth to the point you feel like you actually might suffocate him. he doesn’t care, of course, he’d die a happy man to be smothered by your perfect cunt.

“channie, baby, wait.” you cry out softly when he envelops your engorged nub in his mouth and laves his tongue over it repeatedly, moaning obscenely against your pussy. “‘m gonna cum if you do that, wait, wait.” chan in fact does not wait, only speeding up his movements and continuing to lick at you until you’re shaking through the familiar waves of pleasure, a silent scream falling from your lips as you spray warm and wet on his tongue. it drips down his chin and your inner thighs, but neither of you care with you buzzing in overstimulation from the way chan continues to suck at you through the shocks, and him with you cumming on his tongue so pretty. 

by the time you’re done, he’s still going at it, and it takes you gripping his hair and weakly standing up from his mouth to get chan to finally stop. when you look down at him from your awkward position, the lower half of his face glistens back at you, his plump lips and pretty features wet with your arousal and juices, prompting you to bite back a moan. you swing your leg over and shakily stand, petting your skirt down to get rid of the creases as chan sits up, still looking like he ascended to another dimensional plane. he’s rock hard in his boxers by now, cock painfully straining against his jeans, but he can’t find it in himself to get you to help him out.

“well,” you clear your throat after a moment of silence. “i should get going.” chan’s heart sinks in his chest at your words, and it must show in his expression too because you can’t seem to meet his eyes with the way your gaze stays locked on your twiddling fingers. “they’re probably wondering where i’ve been, so..” you trail off, trying to find a way to excuse yourself despite your mind screaming at you to do otherwise.

“yeah.” chan curses internally at the way his voice cracks. “yeah, you should go.” the sentence comes out more bitter than he intends it to, but he can’t help it. a part of him wants you to feel guilty for just up and leaving without even delving into what this is, what it could mean and become if you just allowed yourself to let it do so, but he’s come to learn that he just can’t expect that from you at this point. so, he doesn’t, instead choosing to wave bye as you sheepishly make your way outside the locker room to the field. once you’re out of sight, he sighs heavily, covering his face with his hands before flopping back down on the bench, his mind racing with thoughts. 

because the simple fact is that chan knows. he knows you’re oh so out of his league, and you would’ve been miles away from his reach either way had it not been for the fact that you stopped him one random thursday afternoon to ask if he could help you out in economics 101. and yet, a part of him still longs for you, longs for your presence and the way you bat your eyelashes at him when he scolds you for getting a question wrong. he longs for the way your perfume wafts in his direction when you pass him in the hallways, ignoring his existence like you both weren’t tangled up in each other’s embrace the night before. even though his heart hurts so painfully, even though his friends all say you’re bad for him, even though he knows himself how bad you are for him, he doesn’t care. 

for him, it’s always going to be you.

. . . 

comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙private, not a secret | MV1˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: max verstappen x wife!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, established/secret relationship

warnings: very fluffy :))

summary: in which you and your husband like to keep things on the low so much so that none of his fans know about the family you have together

a/n: i luv this req tbh i lowkey luv writing kids in it's sooo cute im lowkey broody af atm too 😭 helllll

request!!!: Hi!! Could I request an smau with max where he has a secret family or something idk I just think it could be really cute !

fc: various blonde girls from pinterest

my masterlist

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, and others

yourusername my beautiful life

view all comments

maxverstappen1 my girls

yourusername 💓

carlossainz55 god i look so cool

yourusername hahahhh yeaaa

carlossainz55 ???

yourusername nothing mate😄

yourbff aww i need to come see you guys

yourusername yes please omg 😧 alice said she misses her fav aunt !

only accounts that follow yourusername may see this post

messages ->

instagram ->

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, and 88,928 others

maxverstappen1 beach day

view all 14,283 comments

user7 omg hi y/n

user8 YES A Y/N FEATURE

user9 omg he let her out of the basement

user10 💀

danielricciardo go off

maxverstappen1 yessss!!! whatever that means

user11 lol

charles_leclerc tell y/n we want her at the next race please

maxverstappen1 she will come if the babysitter is free 👍

*comment deleted by maxverstappen1*

maxverstappen1 she said she'll think about it 🧠

user12 WHAT

user13 Urmmmmmmm did you guys see the deleted comment

user14 do max & y/n have children?

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and others

yourusername let's ignore max's deleted comment slip up shall we

view all comments

charles_leclerc i am sorry on his behalf y/n 🙏

yourusername hahah dont worry about it charlie

oscarpiastri get him on a time out asap

liked by yourusername

yourbff aww the world deserves to know about little alice

yourusername they will soon we're keeping her childhood safe for now

maxverstappen1 you already know she's gonna come watch her dad race soon 😎

yourbff im sure she'll find that very fun max

yourusername hahah that's what i said

maxverstappen1 😒

only accounts that follow yourusername may see this post

interview ->

transcript (sorry if it's hard to read😭) ->

there is always going to be rumours ahout my relationship considering we keep things to ourselves, neither of us find it necessary to comment on them very often. *laughs* i've never heard anyone say i'm hiding y/n, no. we have always been private but never ever a secret and that's how it will remain for the most part

twitter ->

instagram ->

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 1,124,293 others

maxverstappen1 a small insight into our (family) life

tagged: yourusername

view all 27,283 comments

user21 NOOOO WAYYYYY

user22 this is so so so so precious

user23 omg i feel so honoured that this is being shared with us even tho it's only a small piece of their lives 🫶

user24 max being a girl dad JUST MAKES SENSE

liked by yourusername

yourusername i love you!!

maxverstappen1 i love you more ❤️

user25 this is so special

charles_leclerc love you guys

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername

danielricciardo congratulations again bro you have a such a beautiful family

maxverstappen1 thank you daniel 😄

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and others

yourusername this account will never go public gang dont worry!! especially because im pregnant again 🤫

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oscarpiastri omg congratulations y/n

maxverstappen1 and me?

oscarpiastri oh right yea sorry max forgot, congratulations mate

danielricciardo congratulations guys 🫶

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc so so happy for you guys

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

yourbff 🤰 ur glowing

yourusername i heart you

maxverstappen1 you are so beautiful

yourusername stop it you im blushing

maxverstappen1 i love making you blush

yourusername i love you

maxverstappen1 i love you my girl 💗

only accounts that follow yourusername may see this post

THE END ❤️

[droaxa]

✧ tags: yandere cheater x reader, angst, yandere, nsfw content

✧ warnings: obsessive yandere behavior, stalking, nsfw content, cheating, angst, creep behavior, jealousy, grabbing, sexual acts

✧ a/n: you guys wanted both the yan royalty and yan cheater so imma do both ‼️ i’ll post the royalty one later cause you guys are in for a treat

not proofread but enjoy! (ty for the love on the last post as well <3)

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

cheater bf who sleeps with your friends behind your back. it’s not like you were anything special anyway, he just tolerated you so he could get closer to some real women

cheater bf who makes you beg for the bare minimum: giving you his jacket, holding your hand during a scary movie, etc etc but does all those things for your friends with a charming smile

cheater bf who says you’re overreacting after he holds your friends hand during a scary movie instead of yours

“hey don’t be selfish, poor girl looked like she was gonna cry. what kinda friend are you?”

you miss the way his fingers trailed up her thighs halfway through the movie when you squeeze your eyes shut. terrified of the unfolding movie scene as your bf comforts another girl

cheater bf who has fucked your roommate in your dorm room bed. oh you’re asking why they look sweaty and tired? they were trying to move your bed cause she dropped something behind it ofc.

cheater bf who finally gets caught a year into your relationship after you walk in on him mid-thrust into your ‘friend’ after they both excused themselves to the bathroom during your hangout.

cheater bf who zips up his pants and runs after a sobbing you to explain but stops half way, what was there to explain anyway? you would be heartbroken yes, but he had got what he wanted didn’t he? ignoring the dull tug on his heart he returns to his dorm

ex bf who throws himself on his bed while thinking about you. finally he picks up the lingering sent of you on his bed and various items that belong to your littered across the room. little gifts to him and cards wishing him happiness. maybe you’d become more intertwined in his life than he thought

ex bf that drops your stuff at your new dorm in a cardboard box, unluckily for you, you open it at the same time and are left staring at each other. like a cat you quickly dart out, grab the box, and retreat after locking the door can’t you just look at him once?

ex bf who feels empty after your breakup, he misses your cooking, your nagging for him to take care of himself, your smiles. fuck. what was the point of being free to fuck whoever he wanted if all he could imagine was you?

ex bf who stalks your socials, irritated that you removed him from your posts and blocked him on everything. and one day when he’s on his burner stalking you, a new story pops up. it’s innocent enough, a picture of you at dinner with a small caption “dinner out”, but then he notices the masculine hand on the table across from you wearing a watch not quite made for a woman.

his blood is boiling. you’re his. his girl.

yandere cheater who scours his room for anything that reminds him of you, finally finding a shirt in the back of his closet that he didn’t find earlier. suffocating his face with the soft fabric, moaning as he sniffed the garment

yandere cheater who hurriedly ruts into his hand as he hold the fabric up to his nose, cock leaking as he fucks his hand to your scent. he cums hard, harder than he had with any of your bimbo ‘friends’

yandere cheater who finally realized what he was missing: you. he caves in and incessantly messages and calls you, showing up at your door to win back your love.

yandere cheater who grows tired, he’s always been impatient. he knows what he did was wrong, especially to an angel like you but everyone deserves a second chance right? after all you were his soulmate

yandere cheater who shows up at a cafe you’re at and sits across from you like nothing is wrong. when you get up to leave, he forces you back into the seat. whispering in your ear to not make a scene. pulling out his phone he reveals intimate pictures of you from your relationship.

“it would be a darn shame if anyone saw these hm? your poor mom would be so disappointed that her dear daughter was just passing these around”

your eyes widen and you beg him to delete them, you’ll do anything!

“just come back to me and all these will be gone”

he grins, to wide to be kind. he wouldn’t send them out anyway. your body was his alone to see. but fuck did it have a effect on you, your big eyes fill with caution.

“please there must be-“ he cuts you off.

“there’s no other way than back to me sweets”

once you shakily get up, he throws his arm over your shoulder, keeping you pinned to his side as you both leave the coffee shop. your hot coffee long forgotten on the table as the chilly air hits your faces. your body further fills with despair as you pass the ally next to the shop, spotting the date you were going to meet. face bloodied and body limp against the red brick.

your ex was always far stronger than you, far stronger than anyone else you had met too. his dedication to martial arts was one of the things that had drawn you to him. but now, his vice grip on you as he guides you to his car isn’t to prove his strength to protect you. it’s to intimidate you into giving in to him

and if you didn’t, there would be consequences.

[lewisvinga]

forever to go| lewis hamilton x fem! leclerc! reader

summary; everyone thinks that lewis hamilton and y/n leclerc just have a work type of relationship due to her role as a marketing manager in versace and him working with the designer brand. little does everyone know how their relationship truly is

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3

note; requested ! i suck at titles soooo bad yall😭 ignore my titles plssssss😭

masterlist !

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liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and others !

yourusername: 2 years since i said ‘i do’ and just a few more weeks of us two. je t'aime mon amour. [i love you, my love]

tagged; lewishamilton

lewishamilton: i love you both, so so much🤍

lewishamilton: 2 years down and forever to go, darling.

yourusername: forever to go❤️‍🩹

username: WHAT THE FUCK.

username: GOOD MORNING TO YOU TOO???19;8/&;@4@:9-8&,

username: cue team lh head loss😭

username: THEY WERE MARRIED THE WHOLEEEEE TIMEEEE????

charles_leclerc: you’ll be the best mother, y/n! congratulations you two! ❤️ couldn’t have asked for a better husband for my dear sister❤️

yourusername: i had plenty of practice with you and arthur🥹🥹 thank you, my cha🩷

lewishamilton: thank you! our child will be blessed to have you as their uncle 💙

arthur_leclerc: i will be turning baby leclerc-hamilton on my side tyvm

yourusername: 🙄🙄🙄🙄

username: arthur is 100% the chaotic uncle😭

username: AWHHHH

username: wait omg her dress??? his suit??? i just KNOW that was the wedding of the century

lorenzotl: félicitations! [congratulations] so happy for you, ma petite soeur [my little sister]❤️❤️

yourusername: merci, enzo🥹🥹

charlotte2304: we’re all so excited for baby hamilton-leclerc 🩷🩷 liked by yourusername !

username: that baby is abt to be the most stylish baby oh my 😭😭😭

alexandrasaintmleux: prettiest mommy to be💘💘

yourusername: alexxxx🥹🥹🥹

leclerc_pascale: mon ange❤️❤️❤️you will be an amazing mother ❤️

yourusername: well i am learning from the best!❤️‍🩹🥹

username: i still can’t believe that y/n and lewis were married THIS WHOLE DAMN TIME😭

username: the timeline says that they went to the met 1 week after getting married they are so annoying aldkalxk

username: dad lewis or daddy lewis???

yourusername: ong that’s what i’ve been saying 🙄🙄

lewishamilton: oh!😄

yourusername: leave my hormones alone this is YOUR fault!!🤬🤬

lewishamilton: i’m so sorry, darling, it is my fault, do you want your latte and pastries when i get back??❤️😁

yourusername: yes plsssss💞💞😛😛💓💓

username: i need myself a lewis fr 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️

[5sospenguinqueen]

Lullabies | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: Six months ago, Max walked out of your life after a conversation about your future. When you find out he' ended up in a's dating Kelly - who has a child - you work through your emotions in the best way you know how; revenge music.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Miscommunication. End of a relationship. Max doesn’t look great in this.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in 2021 but timelines have been completely altered. Olivia Rodrigo songs.

Main Masterlist

next.

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Feb

YourUserName just posted

liked by georgerussell63, bestfriend and others

YourUserName 'and i fantasise about a time you're a little fucking sorry'

12,326 comments

User 1 mother is in the studio, ya’ll. i'm smelling a new album

User 2 did their breakup destroy my soul? yes. do i believe the revenge album will heal my soul? absolutely

User 3 the working titles are so unhinged and I’m here for it

→ User 4 hit you with a car is so real

→ User 5 love that she called him evil whilst also saying that she wants him to drive off a cliff. we respect it

francisca.cgomes i’m SO ready for this. sure you can’t give me a little preview?

→ YourUserName stop trying to get me fired

User 6 sis disappears from social media for 6 months only to come back serving cunt

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2 months before

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May

redbullracing just posted

liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others

redbullracing ANOTHER VICTORY FOR MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏆 #AustrianGP tagged: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

7,445 comments

User 7 omg omg omg y/n liked. this is not a drill

User 8 was that last photo really necessary? she’s just a wag, she’s not actually part of red bull

User 9 not y/n liking 🥺 he broke her heart but she’s still supportive of his career

User 10 that should’ve been Y/N

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

June

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and others

YourUserName 'you’re just a stranger i know everything about'

10,102 comments

User 11 not max liking despite not even following

victoriaverstappen so talented

liked by maxverstappen1

→ YourUserName thank you, vic x

→ User 12 not the former SILs interacting on main

alex_albon what's that sound? oh, it's just my tears

→ YourUserName doofus

→ lilymhe can confirm

User 12 and now my heart is breaking all over again. i miss the two of them so bad

kellypiquet just posted

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others

kellypiquet summer break with my favourites 🤍 tagged: maxverstappen1

4,387 comments

User 13 so pretty

User 14 goals

User 15 anyone notice max hasn’t been commenting since y/n became active again on socials

→ User 16 delusional

→ User 17 clearly they're fine if she's posting vacay pics with him

→ User 18 except these are clearly old pics because max had stubble at the gp like two days ago so...

→ User 15 @ user16 plus he always used to comment and this time he's not even liked the post

→ User 19 not to add fuel to the fire but they were also spotted arguing after his podium

YourUserName posted a new story

Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag List (I tried to include all those who asked. Sorry if you only wanted to be tagged in Part 2 to Daniel and not the other drivers, it got a bit confusing haha)

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery

[nxuvillette]

FORBIDDEN LUST — CAPITANO

synopsis : you were assigned to guard the fatui’s best. you knew the bounds of your relationship was strictly professional, but when your conversation one night becomes personal, those lines begin to blur.

❥- pairings : the captain (capitano) x fem!reader

❥- a/n : this post is for my criminal event ! i decided to do the captain, because well, he fits the bill in some aspect. i hope you guys enjoy and feedback + reblogs are appreciated :).

content warnings : nsfw [18+], fem!reader, minors + ageless + blank blogs dni, fatui!reader, spoilers to the 5.0 archon quest, power dynamic, mentions of crime, porn w plot, age gap, finger sucking, use of pet names (baby , darling , my love), some fluff, possessive!capitano, fingering, dirty talk, creampie, biting, outside sex, rough sex, choking, nipple sucking, corruption kink, dacryphilia.

The moon’s bright rays cast themselves over the meadows and mountains over the nation of Natlan. The beautiful plethora of colors that were painted on the various rock walls were shown brightly due to this light. It was a very calm evening in the nation of war. The air was warm with a bit of humidity clinging along with it, but despite the weather, you still had to keep your main focus alive and that was the duty of protecting the fatui’s number one. 

Your introduction to the powerful organization wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. You found yourself seeking out solace within because of your disdain for the heavenly principles that cursed Teyvat. Like many of the fellow members, you believed that the cryo archon had the right approach when it came to dealing with them, so you joined her in the fight to gain every gnosis that belonged to the six other archons. Along with your passion, your abilities were another piece of the puzzle that led you into obtaining the position you had today, and that was becoming somewhat of a guard to one of the harbingers. 

The Captain.

Not many members were lucky enough to interact with the harbingers themselves. A lot of them were never seen outside of Snezchnaya or in the public eye at all. However, when the Captain was made aware of the crisis that was occurring in a nation he protected all those years ago, he wasted no time making his way there to understand the pyro archon’s approach to the impending disaster that threatened Natlan. Since you were tasked with being by him, you were immediately told to tag along with him. You hadn’t ever gone to Natlan before, but you wished you had a lot sooner. The land of pyro was full of so much color and life. There was a happiness that bubbled in your stomach when your eyes scanned over the beautiful horizons that were buzzing with different animals or people who were happily playing with their saurian pals. You knew being a part of the fatui meant being a cold hearted individual who, on the outside, had to assert their dominance over others, but there was still a side of you that enjoyed the good things about Teyvat. 

While you did bask in the beauty of Natlan, you knew you still had a job to do. 

Being around the Captain for as long as you had, you had to learn to become accustomed to his reserved nature. He often didn’t speak to you for long periods of time, and he always kept any personal details to himself. You knew that was understandable, especially given his ranking in the fatui. He was one of the most feared men in all of Teyvat. Some of the other fatui members would shake in their shorts at the mere thought of his name being uttered. You were intimidated by him at times. He was strong. There was a reason he was number one, but you still had many questions about him as a person. 

The fire before you crackled every few seconds. There were a few embers that snapped into the atmosphere and disappeared as quickly as they developed. You were stationed out in a campsite that wasn’t too far from the stadium that you were planning to invade the next morning with the Captain. The man sat across from you. He was as quiet as he typically was. If you had to be honest, you disliked awkward silence more than anything. You were a talkative person with the right people, but with him? You were afraid to make too much noise with your feet. He had kicked some serious ass in front of you before, and you did not want to become a human popsicle because of him. You simply followed his orders, no questions asked. He could be mysterious at times. He was a man who was always somehow several steps ahead of everybody else and you learned over the months you’ve worked alongside him that he was very clever. You often yearned to know more about him. All you had was baseless rumors made up by random people.

Tiredness began to creep onto your body a lot quicker than you had anticipated. You forgot that you had spent several days travelling through different areas to get to Natlan. This was one of the first times you had gotten the chance to sleep in a few days. You’re trained to not get lazy or tired, but this was the one time you were about to give in to those ideals. 

“Getting exhausted already, hm?”

Your hazy thoughts were interrupted when the Captain’s voice rang in your ears. It always managed to catch you off guard because of how deep it was. There was also so much silence around you both, so it was unexpected to hear him speak so suddenly. “Heh..” you laughed, softly. “You caught me, Captain, my apologies.”

The man before you shook his head, dismissing your apology. “No need, we’ve been travelling for days. I can’t expect you to be wide awake while we’re in front of a fire..” he said. “If you need to rest, don’t worry. I can keep an eye on our camp, and I doubt anyone passing by will attempt to start a fight this late.”

There was a sudden spike in your heart rate at his words. You found it quite surprising that the Captain himself was showing leniency towards you. You were used to him being quite strict at times with the other fatui members who traveled alongside him with you, so this sudden shift made you wonder why he was being so.. Nice? It seemed out of character, and curiosity began to reign in your mind. Could this be a test? The harbingers were a group of individuals who were unpredictable in all forms. He could easily be testing you, so if you did fall asleep, he could scold you for letting your guard down and making him have to protect you. It was your job to save his life in any scenario, after all.

Your eyes flickered from the man to the fire that was still burning. Although you had been around him several times, his presence alone did make you nervous. “No, it’s alright. I have to make sure you don’t get hurt.. Especially with the abyss lurking around here. I can stay up!” you smiled, nervously.

For a moment, the Captain didn’t speak, making that anxious feeling return all over again. Was he going to get angry? Were you supposed to go to sleep? It could’ve been an order hidden in his words. Silence was the most deafening thing to exist. 

“I know what you’re thinking, (Y/N), you don’t have to push yourself for my odds.” he broke that silence that was killing you. “As much as I appreciate it, your wellbeing is important. You can’t fight properly if your body is at its limit.”

You swallowed thickly at his words. It was almost like he was somewhat worried about you? It sounded unrealistic. The fatui are known for their selfish motives, so why would the number one member show any ounce of care in his guard? “N-No! It’s quite alright, sir, really! I can handle it.” you tried to sound reassuring, but he could see through your facade like glass.

He shifted in his seat, making you freeze up again. You really disliked how you could never properly understand what he was thinking or what he was planning to do next. You also couldn’t read his emotions because of the mask that hid his features. He never took it off once, and even during combat it remained on his head. “Alright.. If you insist, but if you’re planning on staying awake, then I am too. I would rather not waste the night sitting in silence, so let’s talk.” he said, bluntly. 

You stared at him like he said something psychotic. He wanted to talk? What was there to discuss? You honestly didn’t know much about one another besides the basics when it came to your ranking among the fatui, and his obvious spot in the harbingers. You also never took the Captain to be somebody who liked small talk. He kept his words often short and straight to the point, so that’s why it made it all the more difficult when it came to conversing with him in an unprofessional manner. “Sure.. um, forgive me, but I’m not exactly sure what we should talk about..” you could feel your palms becoming clammy from how nervous you were.

He suddenly chuckled, leaving you speechless because you didn’t think he was capable of sharing a laugh with you, let alone a smile. “You’re quite chatty, I’m a little surprised, but that’s just fine..” he paused, shifting his gaze onto you. “Tell me.. Why did someone like you decide to become a part of the fatui?”

You didn’t think he would ask such a personal question right off the bat. He usually could care less about those who were beneath him, but nonetheless, he was a bold man. He had no problem asking uncomfortable questions whenever he wanted. You weren’t sure how to respond. There were so many reasons. “Hm, well, I want the best for Teyvat! I think it’s an unfair world and there should be something done to those who harmed others in a negative manner.” you explained, crossing your legs together. “I dunno.. I just want to see change. Even if it’s something small, it’s the thought and effort that matters most.”

The Captain seemed somewhat unfazed by what you told him, but beneath his mask he was actually impressed by your words. He had heard many people discuss their reasonings and motives for joining such an organization. Some were ridiculous, like suggesting they enjoyed the power they had over others, or that they were able to use delusions to obtain what they wanted. Others had selfish desires for money or the thrills, but you seemed to be somebody who had passion. You didn’t care for the power or the other bullshit that came with being in the fatui. All you wanted was for others to be okay. He admired that, truthfully. He also struggled to process it at the same time. He found it somewhat hard to believe. He had been surrounded by self centered values and desires for so long that he almost forgot that there were people like you still out there. There was still good existing in this cruel universe.

“Hm, I see. You seem to be quite the driven person, and I respect you for that.” he replied. “I think you’ll end up somewhere great in life, and maybe you’ll have the opportunity to experience true peace in this life.”

His words brought comfort to you like a warm blanket being wrapped around you on a cold morning. You were glad to hear he felt optimistic about the future, but his praises made you feel even better, Earning the respect of the Captain wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. You’d have to destroy him in battle to get him to bat an eye at you, so it came as a big shock to hear he respected you. Despite that, you appreciated it. “Thank you, sir. It means a lot to me.. And I hope someday that there will be peace too.” you smiled. 

The Captain then stood up, shaking off the large jacket that rested on his broad shoulders. You watched him place it onto the grass that was just a couple inches away from him. He then sat down once again, facing you. 

You never saw much of his body. It was always hidden by his clothes and he hardly ever removed it unless he was by himself. Snezchnaya was also frequently cold, so it was understandable that he wore it all of the time since he spent a majority of his time in the land of cryo. However, through the fabric of his shirt, you could see his muscles that outlined through it. There was a side of your brain that was screaming for you to look away, but your eyes couldn’t move away from how nice he looked. You knew he had been through many fights and training throughout the years, but seeing it this close was making your body heat up. You had seen plenty of muscular men in your life, but this was different. He was also your boss, technically. It was wrong to think of him in such a manner. You could possibly face many punishments if your wild thoughts were able to surface to reality. 

He seemed to catch on to your staring, because he turned his head in your direction. You couldn’t physically see it, but you could feel his eyes watching you. “Something the matter? I only took off my coat because the fire was making me feel warm.” he explained, raising a brow underneath his mask. 

Immediately, you felt embarrassed that he had caught you. You weren’t doing it to be rude or anything, but now you just seemed like a fool in the eyes of your superior. You hoped he didn’t think of you negatively now. It was honestly quite easy to get on the Captain’s bad side these days. “N-No! I’ve never seen you without your jacket, that’s all. My apologies, sir, I shouldn’t-”

“You were just curious, nothing wrong with that.” he interrupted. “And, please, drop the formalities. Call me Capitano, you’ve earned that.” 

Your eyes practically bulged out of their sockets from how wide they had become. You were probably the most professional person to ever walk the earth. You didn’t think you would ever have the chance to use the Captain’s other name. It was a rare occasion. You didn’t think any of the other harbingers muttered it either, so what made you so special? All you did was work beside him and protect his life. It was as simple as it sounded, but nonetheless, you weren’t going to protest. 

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the burning sensation that had appeared on your cheeks from his words. “R-Right! I’m sorry, sir- I mean, Capitano! I will use your name instead!” you stumbled over your words like a kid. “I’m not used to this kind of formality..”

The Captain nodded his head. He could understand from your perspective that a sudden change of professionalism could make you feel somewhat uneasy. He never gave out his real name on purpose. He’d much rather be known as the Captain, because, really, who deserved to know anything else about him? It wasn’t like he was an everyday citizen. “I understand, but you will get used to it. There’s no need to feel rushed or embarrassed, (Y/N).” he said. “I actually want to know more about you, because I hardly have any knowledge of your personal life. Don’t feel obligated to tell me anything, but I figured that’s how we could pass the time.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to react to his request. This man had to be sick or something because this was the first time he had ever asked to know things about you. Neither of you were friends and your relationship was simple enough. Then again, he was trying to pass the time, so he probably could care less about the little stories you had from childhood. You figured it’d be fine. “Sure! I can tell you anything.” you smiled.

The next hour was full of you talking and the Captain mostly listening. 

You shared many stories from your childhood. You talked about your parents and how you missed the meals they would cook for you, or the memories you had of watching the snowfall for the first time in your hometown. To an outsider, you seemed like one of those older people who were telling stories to the children, but to the Captain, you were so much more than that. There were so many interesting things he learned about you within those sixty minutes. You disliked a lot of tart foods, your favorite drink was the fonta that came from Fontaine, and you had a habit of drooling in your sleep from time to time. They were so basic, but he genuinely enjoyed hearing you talk. Your voice was soft and not overwhelming. It’s one of the reasons why he liked having you around him. Unlike some, you were tolerable to be around. Some people talked too much or annoyed him to no end, but you? He could never get tired of you, and that scared him. 

He struggled internally at the thought of you. He thought it was fine for a while. He only saw you as one of his subordinates who had to maintain his safety, but slowly that started to change. The Captain didn’t know how to approach these dizzying feelings that were developing for you. He felt comfortable. Like, he didn’t have to put on a brave facade and hide who he truly was when he was in your presence. He wished he could protect you from this world that had become so cruel. 

“(Y/N), do you mind if I were to show you something?” he asked, abruptly.

You blinked for a moment, pausing in your words. You had no idea what he was going to do, but you did trust him. “No, what is it?” you inquired, nodding your head to the side like a dog that was curious.

The Captain seemed to hesitate for a moment. He wondered if doing this was going to be a good idea, but he believed that doing so would establish some sort of trust between the two of you. He took a deep breath, then moved to take the mask that had been covering his face for several years. 

At that moment, your heart ceased in its movements. You had never seen the Captain’s identity before in the few months that you had been working under him. The mask he wore was a constant symbol of who he was and the unknown often scared many people, but you weren’t afraid of him in the slightest. His face was far from anything like the rumors people had made up about him. His eyes were the color of ice, piercing and bold. His skin was somewhat tan with several scars that were etched onto multiple places on his face. He had somewhat of a mature face, showing his age was evident to what you had originally assumed. He was so handsome and cunning. It made your body feel weak from the mere sight of his features. 

Your silence made him somewhat uneasy. He wondered if revealing his face was a good idea. Were you disgusted? Scared? He couldn’t read your emotions on your face, and it was eating him alive. 

“My apologies I-”

“No, don’t apologize! Really!” you cut him off, taking him off guard. “I.. I think you look.. Lovely.”

His face completely dropped the moment your words slipped past your tongue. Nobody had ever said such a thing to him before. All of the people he had interacted with had described him as a terrifying person. He was somebody that was a part of an organization that committed crimes on a daily basis. How could someone as beautiful as you say he was lovely? There was so much beauty in the horrible world you both existed in, and he was one of the dark corners that you wouldn’t look at. “You think I’m.. lovely?” he questioned, sounding serious and taken back at the same time. 

Oddly enough, you didn’t feel weird about saying it at all. It was almost like there was a sense of comfort that had built itself around the two of you as you talked with each other. “Yes! I admire you, a lot. That will never change.” you replied in a joyous tone. 

A burst of warmth suddenly enveloped his stomach. He wasn’t sure what this feeling was or why it was happening. The Captain was becoming even more confused over his emotions. He hadn’t felt something like this before, especially towards you. He didn’t want to admit it, but he actually liked what he was feeling. He wanted to experiment and see if you could stir even more out of the ordinary emotions inside him. You had complete control over him. The Captain couldn’t believe that, for the first time in decades, another woman had captivated him. 

He was stunned when you randomly stood up without warning and joined the empty space beside him. The Captain looked at you with somewhat wide eyes. It was an expression you had never seen written on his face before. It made you giggle. “There’s no need to be stiff.. I just wanted you to know that you shouldn’t hide your beauty all of the time. At the very least, you don’t ever have to fear doing it around me.” you made eye contact with him, making his tummy do flips once again. 

He remained unmoved for a brief moment, then he made his move. 

The Captain suddenly smashed his lips onto yours. His hands tossed away the mask that he had been holding to place them on your waist that he had been dying to touch for several months now. He was shocked to feel that you were kissing him back. After a few seconds, reality hit him like a wave, and he quickly realized what he was actually doing. He pulled away and was quick to feel flustered from his actions. “I am deeply sorry.. I shouldn’t have done such a thing without your-” he was instantly cut off the second you kissed him again, pushing your body on top of his. 

“I want this..” you whispered, settling yourself onto his lap. 

He wasted no time and pulled you against him. He had often fantasized about what it would be like to have you just like this. Your bodies touching one another, his lips on yours, your hands touching his long tresses of hair. You were a fucking dream. The Captain himself often wondered why someone as beautiful as you were alone in this world. There was so much to like about you. You were too good for a life in the fatui. You should’ve been in your hometown, fighting for your people. It sounded selfish of him, but he thought about taking you away from all of this. Keeping you safe from danger and living a quiet life. 

It would be perfect.

The Captain’s hands moved to squeeze the plush of your hips. He swallowed the soft moan that had escaped your lips as a result of his contact on your skin. You sounded just as erotic as he imagined. There wasn’t a single flaw about you. 

Your exchanges then started to grow more intense. His tongue dove itself into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. You could feel his painfully hard boner as you ground yourself against him. Each time your clothed cunt brushed on it, the Captain grunted or made some type of noise that was turning you on. There was so much built up chemistry between you both and you couldn’t see yourself pulling away. He was addictive and dangerous. This could get you terminated or into trouble with other members of the fatui. However, you found it hard to show any care at the moment. 

There was a brief pause. The Captain pulled away to press his forehead against yours, panting heavily from the lengthy makeout you just had. His pupils were blown with lust and there was a look in his eye that you had never seen before. It made this sudden thrill shoot up your spine at the thought of what was going to happen next. “Before we continue.. I want to warn you that I’m no longer going to hold back. If you wish to withdraw consent at any time, that’s alright, but I’m not going to be easy on you..” he stated, seduction dripping in his voice. 

Excitement coursed through your veins at the images being created in your head from his words. You truly wanted to know what the Captain was capable of in terms of intimacy, so you weren’t about to let the moment waste. “That’s fine..” you replied. “I like it rough.. Especially if you’re going to be the one to wreck me in the end..”

That was all it took for him. 

The man before you then pushed you onto the ground, hovering over you in the process. His eyes studied the different areas of your body. He couldn’t stop himself anymore. The Captain then pulled your top down, revealing your breasts that were so fucking cute. Your nipples perked as the air blew against them, making you shiver from the exposed contact. He tore your top in half so your upper half was now completely on display for him. His cock practically throbbed at the thought of what your cunt must have looked like, but this was already enough for him to lose it. 

He immediately attacked your neck, kissing and nibbling at the most sensitive areas of your skin. He could care less if someone were to see the marks he left on you. He thought it would be cute to watch you try and cover them up. 

Once your neck had multiple bites, he quickly moved to your chest. You whined the second his tongue made contact with your nipple. He swirled his tongue around it, making that familiar butterfly feeling appear in your belly once again. His other hand went to play with your other breast, squeezing and using his fingers to massage your other nipple. He could feel how warm your body had become from his gestures. You were so turned on. He had done so little to you. 

Your eyes connected with his icy ones. You were a complete mess like this. All you wanted was for him to do more to you. “C-Captain, please, more! Ah!” you moaned out when his teeth scraped around your sensitive nipple. 

He removed his mouth from your boob with a ‘pop’ sound. He couldn’t help but smirk at your desire for more pleasure. He didn’t think someone like you could be so erotic. There were so many things he wanted to do to you. The Captain wanted to push you to your limits and break you so all you could think about was him fucking your brains out. “Patience, darling. Let me show you how someone is supposed to make you feel..” he whispered, dragging the pads of his fingers towards your pants. 

It didn’t take long for him to yank your pants off, exposing your panties. His cock twitched when he noticed the large damp spot on your underwear. You had practically soaked through them. He took his thumb and pressed your clit, making you jolt at the electricity he sent along your body. You were practically screaming inside your head for him to do something to you. You hadn’t experienced a feeling like this before with anyone else. Sure, you’ve slept with random men you met while traveling, but they were nothing like him. 

Maybe it was the taboo of it all. You were his subordinate. You weren’t supposed to be doing something like this with a man who was in a much higher position than you. Who knows what kind of punishment or reaction might come from this getting out. He’s too powerful, so you doubted that he would lose his position in the harbingers, but that turned you on even more. The idea that you weren’t supposed to be doing this. Yet, you showed no signs of caring. It was like he had casted a spell on you and there was no way you’d be able to escape it. Not when he had that hungry look in his eye. 

The Captain pulled your panties down your thighs and eventually tossed them away somewhere else. He almost came on the spot from your sticky pussy that was dripping with arousal. He craved nothing more than to have you around him. He took one of his fingers and dragged it along your cunt, making you cry out briefly from the pleasure. He gathered some of your slick and stuck his finger into his mouth, savoring the taste of your sweetness on his tongue. You were just as delicious as you appeared. He then pushed one of his digits into your hole, earning a moan from your lips. You felt so tight around his finger. He knew he had to prep you beforehand, but he wasn’t so sure if you’d be able to take him. 

You gripped your breasts as he fingered you at a slow pace. It felt so good. He was taking his time and he was making sure you were enjoying yourself. He had so much knowledge on those spots inside you that made your stomach twist with excitement. “Right there, yes, right there..” you whimpered, looking at him with desperation in your hues. 

He grinned at the little responses he was getting from you. You were so damn cute. He wondered what else he could do, but it seemed like what he was doing was enough for you. “Yeah? Talk to me, baby, I wanna hear you.” he started circling your clit, sending double the pleasure along your body. 

You were practically humping his hand, coating it with your juices in the process. You couldn’t control the various moans and whines that kept coming from your mouth. You were slowly becoming lost in the bliss, and he fucking loved it. “Please, sir, more! I want you inside me!” you cried. 

His eyes grew wide. Who knew you could be such a dirty girl? This surprised him, but nonetheless, who was he to deny you of your pleasure? You had been so obedient to him over the months. It was the right thing to do. “As you wish, darling.” he replied, removing his fingers from your aching cunt.

You shuddered when you heard his belt being unbuckled. You sat up slightly to gain a view of his cock that was fully erect. It was roughly around seven inches with a lot of girth that made you wonder how you were supposed to take it all. The tip was already leaking lots of precum. You could feel this euphoria going throughout your body. He probably had so much pent up stress that he had been waiting to take out on somebody, and that was you. 

The man then took your thighs in his hands, pushing them apart so he had full access to your pretty pussy. His breath hitched when his tip made contact with your clit. It had been far too long for him. “I’m not going to hold back..” he whispered. “I want to make you an absolute slut for my cock, got it?”

You nodded, taking your fingers and spreading your lips apart. He took that as his sign to continue. He then pushed his cock into your cunt, making you gasp with pleasure as well as some pain from the stretch. 

As soon as he entered you, the Captain let out the sexiest groan you had ever heard. Your walls were hugging his cock so nicely. He continued to push forward, so he was now completely bottomed out inside of you. He looked below at the sight before him. Your pussy was wrapped around his cock like a vice. The sensation of your warm cunt inviting him in was like ecstasy to him. He mentally complained to himself for not taking you much sooner. Now, he wasn’t going to let that moment slip through his fingers. There was so much he wanted to do, and the night was still young. 

The air was practically knocked out of your lungs the second he started moving. You felt so full. You were surprised that he was able to make himself fit, but you had assumed that was what the foreplay was for.

It didn’t take him long to increase his thrusts. Once he noticed your desperate eyes silently begging him for more, he took that as his sign to let go. The Captain couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of your gorgeous body. Your pussy squelched and cried whenever he moved, your pretty tits bounced, and that sweet voice of yours continued calling his name like it was a prayer. That self restraint he had was quickly dwindling, but you seemed to not care. If anything, you wanted him to destroy you. 

He used his hands to take hold of your thighs, gripping them firmly. You pinched your nipples to feel some extra stimulation while he fucked you. Due to the humidity of Natlan, the both of you were already becoming quite overheated. You could see the sweat glistening on the Captain’s body. It outlined his well defined muscles and the scars that were scattered over his skin. “Captain! Please, don’t stop..” you whined. “Feels so good..”

His right hand went to cup your cheek. He used his thumb to press onto your puffy lips, placing it into your mouth. You obediently sucked on his thumb, swirling your tongue around it. Fuck, you were so fucking dirty. He didn’t need to ask for a single thing. “You’re such a good girl. You drive me crazy..” he then removed his thumb, moving it to your swollen clit. “Don’t you worry about a single thing, okay? The Captain will take care of you, darling.”

You let out a cry when he began playing with your clit. The pleasure he had been giving you was now becoming overwhelming. His dick was practically breaking you apart. The tip abused that button inside you that made stars appear in your vision. He knew exactly what to do to make you fall apart in his hands. 

There was this sudden protectiveness that creeped up on the Captain. Looking down at you, he could feel that urge to want to save you from a place like this. This world and the organization you were both involved in was terrifying and cruel. The idea of possibly losing you to somebody else made anger course through his body. He knew it sounded selfish. It was likely that your ideals differentiated from each other, but he didn’t care. He wanted to keep you safe. That idea of living a quiet life with one another sounded wonderful. For the first time in so long, he could actually imagine such a life with somebody else that didn’t seem temporary. 

His thrusts suddenly slowed to a more tender pace. You looked at him with curious eyes, wondering where the sudden shift came from. “I’m gonna keep you safe..” he grunted. “Do you understand me..? I’m gonna make sure your beautiful heart is never broken again.. You won’t have to live in fear with me beside you.”

Your cheeks felt hot at his words. It almost sounded like the Captain was confessing to you at that very second. You weren’t sure what to say or how to react. It honestly made you feel some sort of comfort. Someone like him being able to take care of you without having to worry about the enemies that could potentially harm you. His words sounded sincere. It made your heart leap out of your chest. “R-Really..? You want that?” you blinked, placing your hands onto his broad shoulders. “Please don’t lie to me, Capitano..”

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. The lengthy strands of his hair drooped over the sides of his head. The expression on his features was serious. You could feel his eyes studying you. “I could never lie to you. Not when you’ve done so much for me.. I crave nothing more than to be with you, and only you. I will devote my entire life to keeping you alive..” he replied. “The choice is yours, my dear.”

You said nothing. Instead of using your words, you kissed him. This time, your kisses felt passionate and loving, unlike the ones you shared prior. These were real. You couldn’t find any deception in his tongue and the way he spoke. 

He read your mind and resumed with those harsh ruts. He swallowed down any noises that you made and smirked to himself at the way you struggled to kiss him back whenever his tip kissed your g-spot. He decided to go deeper and angle his hips a different way. He was practically fucking up into you, and you were loving it. The kiss you were sharing was now broken apart because you couldn’t control what was coming from your throat. He thought it was cute to see you in such a state. It was almost like you had forgotten the two of you were both outside. 

“Capitano! Fuck, yes! P-Please, ruin me..” you begged. “I’m so close.. Ah! Please, please! I need you”

He gritted his teeth at your words. He noticed that your walls were becoming much tighter than they were before, implying that your orgasm was just ahead of you. Your desperation turned him on. He wasn’t about to make you wait. 

The Captain grabbed your hips. He had you practically bouncing on his cock from the force at which he was pulling you towards him. Your belly was tightening up with the erratic thrusts he was unleashing on your body. You could feel that climax inching closer. It was making you lose control, and all you could think about was his cock completely ripping you apart. You wanted him to be the only one who made you cum. He was the only man alive who was capable of making you feel such euphoria. 

Those were the exact thoughts the Captain wanted you to have.

With one final thrust, your orgasm completely crashed over you. Your pussy clamped around his cock, leaving a sticky creamy white ring to circle around the base. Your thighs were trembling and you could feel tears developing on your lash line from how amazing your climax felt on your body. “Ahhh.. oh my god.” you cried, panting heavily from how intense it was. 

The Captain pushed your thighs towards you so your knees were now nearing your chest from the way he had you bent. Your hazy eyes grew wide when you realized that his thrusts weren’t ceasing, and he was continuing that rough pace against your cunt. “I’m not done yet..” he said. “This pussy is gonna be dripping when I’m done..”

It didn’t take long for him to drag another orgasm out of you. The overstimulation was sending waves of pleasure all along your tired body, but you didn’t want it to stop. Your pussy was aching and spasming around his dick, drawing the Captain closer to his own high. Those disgusting thoughts of him filling you to the brim with his cum were clouding his mind heavily. It was all he could think about. 

He grabbed onto your throat, firmly gripping it so he could properly fuck you. He could feel his cock twitching and that familiar feeling of an orgasm hurtling towards him with every rut of his hips. He practically growled the moment his balls tightened, finally releasing his cum into your cunt. Warm thick spurts of his seed leaked into your womb, making you shiver from the warmth spreading across your lower abdomen. 

He removed his hand from around your throat, remaining inside of you so none of his cum would slip out of your hole. His fingers brushed along your cheek. Your face was so gorgeous to him. Your eyes were glassy and there was a lazy smile resting on your lips. “Like what you see..?” you questioned, giggling slightly from his stare. 

The Captain came to your level and pecked your lips. He couldn’t hide his smile when being so close to you. “Absolutely..” he replied.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[seelestia]

✦ how can you tell? (of how easily i fall at your feet.)

⎯ oh, how love bleeds from just one gesture. ( some telltale signs that they might've fallen for you. )

#STARRING. neuvillette, wriothesley & lyney ft. gn!reader. { 2.4k words }

#TAGS. sfw, fluff & crack, major pining (!!!). more: neuvi has 1 extra part bcs i realized too late, wrio is a rascal /aff, lynette is a professional wingwoman here (everyone, applaud!!), mentions of various fontaine npc's.

#P/S. pardon my rusty writing and ideas but alas, may i entice you with some fontaine gentlemen on this fine day?? (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) ੭

★ 〜 masterlist.

© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

⎯ neuvillette's love is subtle, hidden behind a veil of formal courtesy. the iudex is the nation's symbol of impartiality; personal relationships, a common factor of inciting bias in one's judgement, are to be sifted through wisely. he can choose which he ends up keeping, yet he cannot choose which he ends up wanting. what of a relationship he desires but cannot keep? a conundrum but still, his affections for you seep through the crevices.

it's in the way. . . your name becomes a beloved among the melusines, you wonder why?

it goes without saying that every citizen of fontaine acknowledges melusines to be friendly creatures. all of them are sweethearts! ...but is it you or is there some form of hidden favoritism here?

for some reason, they always seem to go out of their ways to greet you on the streets. a “hello, mx. [name]!” from the right then a “good day, mx. [name]!” from the left. maybe a “stay safe, mx. [name]!” on days when it's crowded too... you're starting to think the quota of greetings you receive is much bigger than everyone else.

before long, even your arms are getting piled up with favors. one ticket for a seat in the opera epiclese from aeife, a slice of cake from sedene, some high-quality butter from muirne, a free beverage from menthe — you lost count of the freebies you've received already.

what's going on? it is as if there's a badge of approval from someone just hanging over your head. visible to a melusine's eyes, but not to yours. (you've heard that melusines perceive things differently than humans, though.)

but who are you to complain? you're not immune to their contagious smiles each time you pass by. on some days, you even entertain the thought that they are more familiar with you than you are with them. all in a humorous sense, of course.

ironically enough, this theory wouldn't take long to ring true: having received a bouquet of your favorite dessert from café lutece on your birthday from kiara, this coincidence only feeds into your suspicion even more.

a considerate gesture but surely, they don't do this for everyone? you don't recall ever telling your usual order and birthdate to a melusine before. your mind scrambles around for a memory you might've missed. who could've—

“oh, yes... i almost forgot,” kiara holds her chin in thought. “monsieur neuvillette says to send you his regards,” she nods, relieved that the message did not make its narrow escape from her mind. but blissfully unaware of the impact her words have left on you.

“goodbye, mx. [name]!” the melusine bids you farewell with a cheery wave. you murmur back a response but it comes out incoherent at best — you are simply too dumbfounded by the realization.

...so, that's who.

(wait a second, is arouet in on this too?!)

it's in the way. . . he begins to take longer breaks, hoping to run into you in front of the palais.

taking quiet strolls just outside the palais is, more often than not, neuvillette's idea of rest from work. although some might expect the iudex to have chosen a more 'creative' or luxurious location, but he digresses.

this place is near his office so less time is wasted on the journey back, liath also patrols here so he has the opportunity to inquire about her well-being — and occasionally, he stumbles upon you as well.

'occasionally' is the keyword: neuvillette has always preferred order and routine above chances and coincidences. but something about this idiosyncrasy — the tendency to linger beyond his usual duration, the act of stalling to hold onto hope that you might pass by today — is a indication of hypocrisy he wishes not to comment on.

sometimes, he closes his eyes so that his ears may be more attuned to the sound of your voice. sometimes, he opens his eyes so that they may look around for a glimpse of your face. who's to say if he'll ever be graced by your presence? it is all in fate's hands.

call it an odd method of manifestation, a childish one that even neuvillette scoffs at himself for. sometimes, it doesn't work, of course. not that he ever expects it to — but oh, when it does.

“...monsieur?” your voice cuts through the silence in his mind. he takes the sight of you in; a polite greeting on your tongue, several grocery bags in your arms and that beam on your face as you say, “what a coincidence to see you here.”

the iudex finds that he doesn't mind having his privacy briefly interrupted. not at all. not when it's like this, not when it's by you. alas, it seems that fate has smiled down on him today.

“yes, hello. what a serendipitous coincidence indeed.”

neuvillette smiles, he can't help it. perhaps, he might grow a soft spot for coincidences, after all.

(you sneak a brief glance at the sky with a squint. ...is it just you or are the clouds clearing up a little?)

⎯ wriothesley's love is beguiling, the kind of adventure that keeps you on your toes. a forthright gentleman; he is the type to know what he wants and he wants you. with him, you'll taste whiplash like never before. butterflies in your stomach, the urge to throw a shoe at him, you'll get it all. but an adventure isn't an adventure without breaks in between and it's at that very moment where you'll find you adore him the most... when he rests his head on your lap, momentarily free from worldly titles, breathing like the man who longs for warmth that he has always been.

it's in the way. . . he always offers you tea when really, he just wants you to stay.

everyone knows that wriothesley enjoys his tea — but that's only because he sees no need to hide his preferences; not his craving for a cup of tea when afternoon arrives nor his fondness for you either.

he doesn't conceal it, but doesn't bring attention to it either. wriothesley likes to think that only those with discerning eyes can pick up on the miniscule (???) hints he drops. that is, if saying “why not stay for some tea?” is even considered a subtle clue at all... maybe, he's mixing up polite courtesy with flirting a bit too much.

but who cares? in the grand scheme of things, the fun is seeing whether you'll figure it out or not. and let's be frank here; wriothesley is a patient man in all aspects, able to play the long game like no other.

don't worry, you may take as long as you want to — ironic since you're technically the only player in this 'game' — but hey, he has faith in your abilities! besides, you get to enjoy a cup of free tea (and with his company, preferably). surely, you can't complain about that? ...hah, he's just teasing you.

tick-tock! tick-tock!

the clock strikes twelve in the afternoon.

“ah, finally a well-deserved break.” the tone in which wriothesley pairs with that grin on his face is nothing less than devious. the glance he throws your way as he set aside the documents on his desk is something. or rather, it's suggesting something.

and frankly, you've experienced this many times enough to know what the underlying meaning is. “let me guess...” you let out a sigh, “you're asking me to have tea with you again?”

the emphasis on the last word is definitely, wholly intentional. you're sure wriothesley knows that too — “bingo,” he hums at you, sounds almost like a whistle. “you're getting more and more clever. must be all the tea i made you.”

“don't flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes at his attempted jest but you take a seat on his office couch, anyway. your own unique and adorable way of saying yes, he learned. still, wriothesley thinks that exasperated look on your face is an absolute marvel... and maybe, that little smile tugging on your lips you're trying to fight, too.

“same as usual?” he asks, pushing back his chair with a proud grin still plastered on his face that you wish you can wipe off.

but instead, you shake your head fondly at his antics. “mhm,” and rest a cheek on your fist. watching him tiredly, you realize you could get used to this. maybe.

wriothesley smiles to himself. looks like you figured out the tea has always been an excuse, after all.

(you've won the game, congrats! a subsidiary reward is a comment from sigewinne about how this tea routine between the two of you bears a resemblance to an elderly human couple's. she means it, innocently sincere.)

⎯ lyney's love can be faceted at first, one with such a smooth surface that you never imagined there would be so many layers underneath. joy and bliss, sorrow and burdens; all cramped and stuffed together behind his mask of perfection on the stage, a mask akin to a child's treasure chest almost bursting at the seams. you can unravel him if you tried, you can take off that mask if you reached out. and when you do, you'll find beautiful violet eyes staring right back at you, thankful, imploring you to go further.

it's in the way. . . his bravado dissipates around you, nerves scattering like confetti that bursts from his hat on stage.

they say that the first impression is the best impression — or at least, lyney hopes that's the case with all of the interesting impressions he has left on you so far. his instinct by nature is to impress, to bedazzle and that hasn't stopped since meeting you for the first time.

trying doesn't always lead to success, however. you stuttered in front of them twice, lynette pointed out after the first time he spoke to you. that fact spooked the poor magician so much he stayed up rethinking the conversation under the cover of his blanket. lynette isn't wrong per se, but lyney firmly believes that he will leave a better impression... one day, somehow, no matter how many times it takes!

he is a magician; charisma and charms should have or rather, already have come easily to him. his persona on the stage is no lie — just a tiny concerted exaggeration, maybe — but you've been among his audience before. you've seen what he is capable of. so surely, you'd know that lyney isn't really as demure and easily flustered as you might think he is... because no punches held back, he acts like that every time you talk to him.

he can't help it and that, exactly, is what makes it worse.

how many times have he cupped his face and mumbled nonsense into his hands for failing to impress you yet again? you're so wonderful and he's just so... miserable. this is unlike him. he has to wonder why you still look for him after each performance when you know you'll be greeted by his being a wreck.

maybe they like you that way, freminet tried to help. or maybe they like you no matter what, lynette chipped in. that had lyney pondering for a long, long, long time which translates into weeks.

will the day come where he presents you with a rainbow rose and professes his feelings for you without losing his nerves? he can only hope (and try, one day).

it never gets old.

when his feet step off the stage and the curtains have fallen, the satisfaction that spreads all the way to his fingertips never fails to disappoint. but with that, also comes the imminent feeling of anticipation.

for each performance he delivers, a visitor is bound to linger. when all members in the audience would head to the entrance of the opera epiclese to leave, one of them would stay. waiting patiently to be beckoned to the backstage. it's been a routine for so long, after all.

“lyney?”

right on cue.

your voice greets his ears, a sound that he can admit he misses only to himself. he exhales, a placating act to shush his beating heart from growing any louder.

“ah, [name]!” the magician enunciates your name with a certain type of fanfare. “here to lend a hand again, i assume?” he tries to shoot you a confident grin, but you aren't gullible enough to not see the tint of red blooming on his cheeks.

you stifle a chuckle at his (attempt at a) bold opening. “of course,“ said with a nod and a silly thought along the lines of: he's cute.

your honest and calm response takes him by surprise. he blinks a tad. oh, it seems the thrill from the show a few minutes prior still hasn't worn off. perhaps, he's still all too used to the crowd's shouts and cheers... not that he expects you to start yelling, of course!

“i see,” lyney feigns a cough to recollect his composure. now that he is cognizant of the fact it's just the two of you, he shrinks down into a more casual version of himself with a nervous chuckle.

“will you... be staying for long?” he asks, bashful. the question sounds more genuine than just a mere pleasantry. his eyes look hopeful, twinkling at the thought of having your presence around. his fingers have even come up to scratch at the side of his neck, you don't think lyney even realizes he is doing that.

who are you to say no? you smile. “well, my schedule's pretty empty today.”

his lips instantly break into a grin, brighter than one he usually has onstage. “that's actually marv—” he starts.

“that's great,” a familiar monotonous voice cuts in. lynette peers from behind you with a hum, “we could use more hands to pack up the new props.” oh, and that brief glint of mischief in her feline eyes as she watches how lyney gapes at her sudden intrusion.

“sure!” you glance back at her, oblivious to it all. “thanks for letting me in, lynette. i'll try my best to help.” even if you admit that one of the reasons you're here is for lyney, but you can't discredit his twin sister for allowing you to enter here in the first place. a free backstage pass in exchange for free labor, quite a fair deal.

with your back turned to him, lyney takes the chance to mouth his own words of disbelief to lynette. incomprehensible except for that one i can't believe you're doing this! that she manages to catch.

“no problem,” she observes her brother over your shoulder with keen interest, “everyone knows how fond lyney is of you.”

there is a series of spluttering noises behind you. a certain magician finds himself at the verge of choking on mere oxygen.

“lynette!”

but really, she has no doubt that lyney has fallen head over heels for you. hook, line and sinker.

— thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are most appreciated. ♡

[dyaz-stories]

casual (1) || gojo satoru x reader

chapter 1: i like the way you kiss me

synopsis: Getting recruited for a double position as a teacher for Jujutsu High in Tokyo and a strategist, tasked with assigning missions to sorcerers in the region is the perfect situation for you. It pays well, it's well regarded, and it's as safe as possible — by sorcerer standards, anyway.

There is one problem though, and his name is Gojo Satoru. The one who's supposed to collaborate with you and answer to you.

The one you can't keep your hands off...

word count: 9.5k

genre: 18+, friends with benefits to lovers, coworkers to lovers, canon divergence, smut, emotional slow burn but they fuck like rabbits

warnings/tags (chapter): fem!reader (she/her pronouns, reader is afab), takes place ~5 years before jjk0, teacher!reader, sorcerer!reader, canon-typical violence, mild angst, smut (semi-public sex, fingering [fem receiving], vaginal sex, sorta dom!gojo, corruption kink if you squint), mentioned slut shaming (not the sexy kind), gojo satoru is a little shit

A/N: This is quite the Behemoth of a first chapter, I'm sorry to say. I love really long chapters, but I can only hope you all do too and this isn't too intimidating! This is a fic I've had in mind for ages and finally got around to start an outline for and actually write it. There are actually a couple of drabbles here and there on my blog for this couple already, happening at various points of their relationship.

I really hope you will enjoy this first chapter!

‘Make use of Satoru Gojo however you see fit.’

Such are the first words spoken to you by the higher-ups, at the end of an exhausting recruitment process. You nod sharply at the instruction.

“Duly noted.”

Truth be told, you don’t see why they need to specify it. You had assumed that went without saying from the very beginning.

The job offer had, at first glance, been for a strategist who would work directly under the higher-ups for the region of Tokyo. Devising teams, advising the council, and assigning missions were supposed to be the main tasks you would have to fulfill.

‘Supposed’ because, when you were one of only three candidates left, the higher-ups had revealed that there was, in fact, a second role you would be expected to perform. One that you had not imagined would be available for decades.

A new teaching position at the Tokyo Jujutsu High School was opening up, though you couldn’t understand why for the life of you. You had no connection to the establishment yourself, having left Japan as a child and trained abroad your whole life, never returning for more than a couple of months at a time, yet you knew, as did the entirety of the sorcerer world, that Satoru Gojo had been appointed there less than a year before. Well, rumor had it that he had appointed himself, and you had to wonder if that was why they were keen to have a more… traditional teacher by his side, since firing him was an option.

In that case, your lack of ties to Satoru Gojo, Masamichi Yaga and to the Jujutsu Headquarters could explain why your name ended up being the last one on the ballot. You were the best placed to be an independent monitor.

The distorted voice keeps going, bringing you back to the present.

“Unless stated otherwise, always send him to battle first.”

You school your face so you do not let any emotion appear, though the statement surprises you. You have to assume that they don’t mean for any mission you receive, because that would be catastrophically ineffective. Then again, sending him on Grade 1 missions, if he is available, makes some sense.

“Report to us if you encounter difficulties with him,” the voice adds before falling silent without elaborating.

You understand, from the finality of their tone, that you have been dismissed, and bow your head, your movements polite and sober.

“Thank you for the trust you are placing in me. I will not disappoint you.”

“We know you won’t,” another sepulchral voice answers.

In the dark, candle-lit room, it sounds sinister enough to chill you to the bone. You wait just a second longer, in case something needs to be added, before turning on your heels and walking away. No one calls you back, and you’re more relieved about leaving the room than you would like to admit.

Outside, the summer sun is high and bright. You tilt your head backwards and close your eyes to let its rays warm your face. It will take a while before the cold instilled in you in that meeting room dissipates.

You’re expected in Jujutsu Tech by the end of August. Being a teacher there is as close to the ideal position as it gets, for a sorcerer. The pay is excellent, the risks minimal, and it commends great respect from the society at large. You have no doubt that, had the offer been for that position in the first place, numerous sorcerers far more qualified for teaching than you are would have thrown their hats in the ring. You wouldn’t have made it past the first interview.

You got lucky. Just this once, you’re going in the right direction.

You inhale deeply. For the first time in a long time, you no longer envision your life as an endless successions of missions, countries, and houses that never become homes.

For the first time in the long time, you think you have a future.

There is a spring in your step when you make your way down the stairs, away from this freezing place and the ghouls that haunt it.

Behind you, the Headquarters; ahead, Jujutsu Tech.

Masamichi Yaga is a cautious man. His handshake is warm and firm when he greets you, and though his voice is calm and steady as he guides you through the hallways of Jujutsu Tech, he remains evasive. He provides all the information you might need, answers any question you have when you ask them without missing a beat, and yet you can tell he is guarded, keeping you at arm’s length.

You cannot determine why that is with certainty, though you have a handful of hypotheses. It could just be that he isn’t used to the presence of strangers. Dealing with a total stranger is a rarity within sorcerer society, even more so in Japan. You doubt that he would know anyone who could talk about you, let alone vouch for you. You understand why that would make you a suspicious character.

Another option is that you were forced onto him as a member of his staff by the higher-ups, though you haven’t heard anything about that. With you being a complete outsider, he would not have any valid reason to outright reject your presence, not when his only teacher is frequently gone for days at a time, but that would not mean that he’d be pleased with it — or view you as trustworthy, for that matter.

The third possibility, of course, is that he just finds you off-putting.

‘Cold’, that’s how you are often described by the people around you. You don’t do it intentionally, but you also cannot pinpoint what it is that you do ‘wrong’. Something about your tone, your expressions, or lack thereof, your cold eyes, the way your mouth naturally curves downwards.

That and, of course, the trail of bad omens that you bring with you everywhere you go.

These don’t tend to be active problems when it comes to sorcerers. With normal humans, now, it’s a different story. Oh, there are exceptions, who find that this all makes you intriguing, but it typically makes it hard to build actual connections with other people. You wouldn’t normally care, but in a situation where you have to collaborate with others, you could see that becoming an issue.

You had seen that coming, of course — it wasn’t like it was new information to you. As a result, you had made sure to be on your very best behavior from the moment you’d stepped foot within Jujutsu Tech grounds. You had nodded with interest, you had reminded yourself to smile, you had asked all the right questions, and yet you could feel that you had not once managed to turn yourself into a likeable person.

Ah, well. Not being likeable would not stop you from doing your job right.

“I’ll introduce you to the rest of teaching staff,” Yaga announces, his voice deep, as he reaches a new door. His hand is hovering over the doorknob when he stills, turning to look at you. “Are you ready for this just now? They were both students here, but I assume this can all be overwhelming for a newbie.”

That is a kind sentiment.

“I’m okay.” Then, because answering in monosyllables is not what likeable people are supposed to do, you add: “I read the files available to familiarize myself with the school grounds before coming here.”

His eyebrows jump up behind his glasses, but it’s followed by a hearty chuckle.

“You’ve come prepared.” He nods, appreciative. “Good. It will be nice to have someone who takes their job seriously around here.”

You don’t have the time to question the sentence before he opens the door.

The room is small and reeks of cigarette smoke. In the middle of it, a desk, and behind it, sprawled on an elegant black chair, a white-haired man that you recognize at first glance. You let your eyes slide over him. You wouldn’t want to look too, um, curious, just yet.

The brown-haired woman with the long white coat who is perched on a window sill, doing her very best to look inconspicuous, is the one responsible for the smell. You identify her as Shoko Ieiri, school doctor and reverse cursed technique prodigy. Next to you, Yaga sighs.

“Shoko,” he protests with a paternal disapproval, “I thought you’d quit smoking?”

“I did,” she answers, staring at him, her eyes dark and tired, “and then I had to regrow a lung. Do you have any idea how much of a pain it is to regrow internal organs?”

A light laugh comes from the man in the middle of the room, and you consider that this gives you permission to look at him without coming off like you’re gawking.

He has his feet propped up on the desk, and he’s using them to push himself backwards in a precarious balance. White hair spills on the dark leather, long arms hang on both sides of the chair, and he hasn’t bothered to so much as glance in your direction so far — or at least, you don’t think he has, because white bandages are wrapped around his head, covering his eyes.

Even without being able to spot their signature blue, you know who he is. There isn’t one sorcerer in Japan, nor in the whole world, who doesn’t know his name.

Satoru Gojo, in the flesh.

“Maybe if you hadn’t cheated your way through medical school, it would be easier, don’t ya think?” he asks Ieiri with fond familiarity.

“Don’t—” Yaga takes two steps into the room, kicks the legs from underneath the chair. “—sit at my desk, Satoru.”

Effortlessly, Gojo jumps off the chair before it hits the floor and lands on his feet, facing Yaga. He is just as tall as the Principal, and from the wide grin on his face, it’s obvious that he is thrilled to have gotten a rise out of him.

“Then get me my own office already, what are you waiting for?”

“We’ll see which one of you gets an office first,” Yaga sniffs, and it doesn’t sound like Gojo is at the top of his list. “First, there is someone you need to meet.”

Ieiri has been observing you since you’ve walked into the room, not looking away when you had met her eyes. Yaga’s words have Gojo finally directing his attention to you, though, and something in the room shifts. You can’t see them, yet you know his eyes are on you, dissecting you and your cursed energy, collecting every possible bit of information on you. He walks past Yaga, burying his hands in his pockets as he approaches you. He has an easy smile placated on his lips, but you know when you’re being judged.

Behind him, both Ieiri and Yaga are still, tense. Yaga’s jaw is set, and Ieiri fiddles with a pack of cigarettes in her pocket, clearly itching for a new one. Ah, so this is the real test.

You don’t back off, staying rooted in your spot. He towers over you easily, and you have to tilt your head back just to look at him. You’d heard he was a handsome man, but you hadn’t expected it to be so obvious, even with the bandages on. He studies you, sharp jaw clenching, before the dazzling smile returns.

“Right! You’re the substitute teacher, aren’t you?”

His voice is light and airy, the previous tension completely absent from it. You blink.

“She will be teaching instead of you when you’re away on missions,” Yaga intervenes, “but that doesn’t make her a substitute. C’mon, Satoru, we’ve had this conversation already.”

On that last sentence, his voice turns into a threatening rumble.

“Sure, sure,” Gojo dismisses him without looking back, “and you’re the one who will be giving me missions as well, right?”

He keeps his tone cheerful, makes it sound like he’s just trying to have a conversation, but there is an edge in his voice, a bite. You cannot tell what he is trying to achieve with the question, though, or why he is being hostile, so you choose not to engage.

“Indeed,” you answer, bowing your head politely. “It is an honor to be meeting you all.” You make quick work of giving your name and briefly mentioning that you hadn’t grown up in Japan.

You’re met with silence, Gojo’s lips pressed together as he tries to read you. You do your very best not to give him anything to sink his teeth into.

“Your family’s known for their precognition, aren’t they?” Ieiri asks from the other side of the room.

“Foresight, yes”, you reply. Your answer is rehearsed, polished. Your family has somewhat of a reputation within the sorcerer world, but fortune tellers are a dime a dozen, even among non-sorcerers, and the results vary greatly — it’s not an ability that inspires trust, even for a legitimate sorcerer like you. You don’t wish to reveal too much of yourself just yet. “I look forward to working with you.”

A smile finally forms on her lips.

“Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I won’t be seeing too much of you. Would be a shame if I had to patch you up. If you want to go out drinking though, just let me know. I know all the best bars in the city!”

“She does, and she’s banned from half of them,” Gojo chimes in. Now that his focus is back on her, his tone is softer; teasing, still, but no longer harsh. “She could use an actual designated driver instead of exploiting her kouhais though, don’t you think, Shoko?”

She laughs at that, sincerely, her eyes creasing.

“Fuck you, Gojo,” she answers fondly.

“I apologize for these two,” Yaga says, wincing at the coarse language. “We’re very happy to have you here. I’m sure it will do the kids some good, having someone serious to take after.”

“Hurtful,” Gojo protests, pouting. “They’re good kids,” he adds, directing his attention back to you. He sounds proud now, no trace of his earlier defiance left. “They’ll be great soon. They just need a little push to get there.”

At that, you nod.

“Of course. I’ll do my very best to help them on that path.”

There is a second, between the moment when you finish speaking and the moment when a wide smile splits his face. In that second, his lips part, and you feel his eyes plunge into you, digging into the very core of your being. He doesn’t look pleased. No, he is sizing you up, and you doubt you measure up to his expectations as well as you should. You’re the only one facing him, though, and when he smiles, just a little too late, it all vanishes like it never happened.

“Good to hear! As long as that’s the case, I’m sure everything will go smoothly.”

It’s said differently, but it’s as threatening as the higher-ups’ last words to you. Still, behind Gojo, Yaga heaves a relieved sigh and exchanges a look with Ieiri that tells you just how worried he’d been about your arrival. To him, it looks like the situation is resolved.

“Why don’t we all go and get a drink together to welcome you properly, if we’re done here?” he asks, walking over and slapping Gojo in the back.

“Sounds good to me,” Ieiri hums.

“As long as we go somewhere with good desserts, I’m in,” Gojo declares, intertwining his fingers at the back  his head.

“You better be, Satoru,” Yaga grumbles, “you’re paying.”

“Not sure the Gojo clan has enough money for your appetite,” he sighs dramatically, “but I mean, I can try.” Then, eyeing you, “You coming or what?”

“Of course,” you say, swallowing around the unexpected knot in your throat. “Thank you for having me.”

You follow them cautiously, keeping quiet as the banter continues, hands held behind your back, observing. You had not expected to feel welcome here. You could have done without Gojo’s strange hostility, but with your track record, you had expected far worse.

“Let me know if Satoru makes your life harder, alright? I’ll talk some sense into him,” Ieiri tells you, placing a cigarette between her lips.

“And I’ll beat it into him if I have to,” Yaga adds, snatching it from Ieiri’s mouth and crumpling it between his fingers.

“I’d love to see you try,” Gojo grins.

“Noted,” you answer, “but I’m sure everything will be fine.”

This last part is a lie. Even as he’s joking around with everyone, you know he is still observing you, courtesy of the Six Eyes, watching your every move, waiting to find a fault somewhere so he can figure out what to do with you. You can’t blame him. You will be the one sending him into action, after all, even if the higher-ups would review missions assigned to grade 1 sorcerers and special grade sorcerers. Of course he’d need some time to figure out whether or not you’re trustworthy.

Not that his opinion on the subject matters to you. You’re not the type of person who needs other to like you. You don’t even need him to trust you. All he has to do is let you do your job.

Everything else is futile.

It is no surprise that the first few weeks at your job are slow. The end of summer and the beginning of fall are always quiet periods for sorcerers, and as a result, you don’t have many missions to hand out just yet. The few, low-level ones available in Tokyo are systematically claimed by Gojo before you can look into them, as training for his students.

“Kids gotta learn somehow, right?” he tells you with a grin the first time it happens.

He’s just waltzed into your classroom and he’s leaning over the desk, elbow conveniently resting on the mission files. You try not to think about how brazenly handsome he is right now, even when he is openly provoking you. You stare at his bandages, right where his eyes must be. He may be smiling at you, but there is no sincerity behind it, no joy, and that wasn’t really a question.

You shrug.

“Alright.”

The smile falters.

“Yeah? That’s alright with you?”

“Certainly. If you think these are good exercises for them, and if you plan on being there to supervise them, I don’t see any issue with it. Just return the files if there are any they can’t clear, and I’ll transfer them to the appropriate person.”

He tilts his head. Watching. Assessing.

“You should join us!” he exclaims cheerfully, smile back in its place, clapping his hands together. “The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?”

Oookay. He is testing you. The infuriating part of that is, you have no idea what he is testing you for, what he wants you to display — or fail to display. Trying to see if you’re good enough of a teacher? You have nothing to prove here, certainly not to someone who has been on the job for such a short time. Then again, you don’t see any harm in humoring him.

“No problem. Just let me know when you intend to take care of them, and I’ll be there.”

His smile widens, but you’re not sure if it means you’ve succeeded or failed his test.

“Good,” he hums. “I’ll be taking that, then.”

In one swift movement, he retrieves the files from your desk, and he walks away with them before you can say anything.

You roll your eyes — this whole song and dance are so unnecessary — but you don’t see any reason to stop him, so you just watch him leave. You catch him stopping in the doorway, turning back to look at you. The smile is still dancing on his face, all edge and teeth.

“You’re not what I expected.”

You stare at him just a moment longer, brow furrowing, before he vanishes and you’re left with nothing to look at.

‘Not what he expected’. You turn the sentence over in your mind a couple of times, trying to conjure up an image, a personality that would fit better for the role you’re supposed to play, but nothing comes up. You have two roles: teaching the future generation of sorcerers, and assigning missions. If doing one task can facilitate the other, there is no reason not to do it — and you find it even harder to comprehend why he wouldn’t have expected you to do just that.

You shake your head, willing his words out of your mind. You’ve never felt the need to meet anyone’s expectations, so why should you start now?

Taking kids to a cemetery for a mission seems in poor taste, but that’s not what you tell Gojo when he announces it as his first choice.

“The mission is for a number of grade four curses and a couple grade three,” you state instead, “but considering the spot, it’s likely more powerful ones went unnoticed. Are you sure that’s appropriate for first-years?”

“Well,” he answers, hands casually in his pockets, towering over you with all his height, “it will be good to see how adaptable they are and their abilities in the face of danger. Plus, they’ll have two guardian angels looking after them, won’t they?”

There’s that toothy smile again.

You still don’t know what it means.

“As long as you’re here, it will be fine, I guess” is what you end up answering him with a shrug.

This time, he doesn’t say anything as he leaves, doesn’t stop to look at you.

You suspect that you said exactly what he was expecting from you.

Contrary to popular belief, cemeteries don’t typically harbor powerful curses. The smaller ones are numerous, born out of loss and grief, but the bodies of non-sorcerers don’t take the pain they endured with them in the grave. They leave it all over their houses, leaking through the walls and ceilings, seeping through the cracks in the floor, cursing their loved ones.

Cemeteries remain clean.

The exception to that rule is a notable one. In any place where cursed energy accumulates for long enough, there is a risk for it to congregate to the point where strong curses can emerge. This slow growth means they learn to better hide themselves, and it makes them harder to spot and eliminate. In an ideal world, there would be a sorcerer expedition every other decade to ensure nothing big can develop, but sorcerer numbers being what they are, that is impossible to ensure. There is also a high likelihood that it would be useless anyway, a waste of time and resources, far too much firepower for the bunch of fly heads sorcerers would find.

Still, you keep an eye on the three, baby-faced first years, and chew on the inside of your cheek as they start to make their way through the alleys.

You don’t like this.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” Gojo says lightly, next to you. “You’re a grade one sorcerer, aren’t you? There’s nothing more powerful than that here. I’d know it if there was.”

“My evaluation took place in Europe. I don’t know if I would have ranked that high, had I taken it here.”

“Aw, c’mon, if even you think you’re that weak, who’s going to believe you’re strong?”

The sentence surprises a chuckle out of you. A grade two sorcerer is nothing to turn your nose at, but you can’t say you’re shocked that the Satoru Gojo would equate that status to weakness. He is so far off the scale that he would break it altogether if it wasn’t for the convenient, murky ‘special grade’ title.

You look at him, find him already turned in your direction. His lips are parted in surprise. You don’t realize it, but you have somehow managed the feat of getting Gojo’s undivided attention. The Six Eyes are focused on you, dissecting you, taking you in. This is— new. People are predictable. It’s not always a bad thing, though it gets a little boring. You— you keep catching him off guard while doing things that seem completely natural to you.

For once, you’re the one who is smiling, and he’s stunned into silence.

“It doesn’t matter to me, whether or not people think I’m strong. All I care about is—”

Teeth reflected in a pupil. Muscles like lead. A hand raised in defense. Flesh that turns into mist, there one second, gone the next. Clicks like a laugh, coming from behind. ‘Morino Iori — 1954-2010’, splattered with blood. A curse with its head thrown back, an arm coming out of its open mouth, disappearing when it swallows. Tears dripping down from the chin to the ground, barely diluting the puddle of blood that has formed there.

The rest of your sentence is lost when you turn around and take off running.

There is a string of cursed energy pulling you in the right direction, one that found its way to you, one that the cursed technique engraved in your brain knew how to decode. You’re old enough not to question it, not to struggle with the vision, and following it comes as a second nature. Just as you get there, you see Sota rounding the corner slowly, looking around, squinting, searching for something he isn’t finding. Your fingers close around the weapon at your waist, withholding your cursed energy — for now.

To a non-sorcerer, you would appear to be holding nothing but a stick. A sorcerer would know it’s a cursed weapon, though most would not be able to figure out its use.

At least, not until the curse emerges from the fog, only two steps behind Sota. In a flash, you let cursed energy irrigate your weapon, and a blade of sheer energy appears. The stick is now a scythe.

It’s in poor taste, in a cemetery, but you don’t linger on that.

You’re between the boy and the curse before he can turn around. The curse’s abilities must allow it to hide its presence, would allow it to disappear back into nothingness a mere moment after the kill, but you don’t give it the opportunity to do that. The scythe cuts through it like butter, splitting it in two. The two halves haven’t yet hit the ground that you’ve already lowered your weapon, emptying it from cursed energy as soon as you’re done.

“Are you okay?” you ask Sota, turning around to face him as you anchor it back to your waist.

“Um,” he says. He doesn’t look scared, just mildly surprised. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“What happened to seeing his abilities in the face of danger?”

You bite your lip, glancing at Gojo. He is standing atop a headstone, balancing without any struggle and watching the two of you with unmistakable amusement.

“He freezes in the face of danger,” you answer.

Sota’s eyes go wide, and he turns away from you, shaking his head. He isn’t doing it for you, though, but for Gojo.

“That’s not true! I’ve exorcised curses before, you’ve seen me do it!”

He’s desperate to prove himself to his teacher, and something sinks within you. You don’t need a vision to tell you what will happen next.

“The kid’s got a point,” Gojo lets you know. “That precognition thing of yours, how accurate is it?”

There was a time when those words would have sent you reeling back. Even now, when you’re expecting them, you feel the blood withdrawing from your face as he speaks them. But you swallow, school your features. You know better now. Fighting now will only delay the inevitable. Gojo was standing next to you anyway. With the Six Eyes, he must know for certain that you hadn’t activated any sort of cursed technique when you took off running. That alone would be enough to make him suspicious, if he didn’t already doubt you.

Cassandra’s Bargain. Tell the truth, and save only those who believe you.

Unlike others, explaining the workings of your cursed technique doesn’t make it more effective — it makes it useless. If you try to tip the scale in your favor now, you will all pay a high price for it later.

You know what Gojo is implying, about your accuracy. Most people who have foresight see a number of futures. If he suspects you saw one in which Sota died, your actions must make sense to him.

“Enough to keep me safe,” you answer, tight-lipped.

“That’s what I thought. Let’s give the kid a fighting chance from now, what d’ya say?”

That’s not how it works, but it doesn’t matter. At least Sota gets to keep his arm — until next time.

What a waste.

“Of course,” you say with a nod.

You would do it again in a heartbeat if you had to, but you no longer feel threads of cursed energy, threads of fate, pulling you in one direction or the other. Oh, they’re all around you, and you’d know much more if you activated your cursed technique, but you know how it functions. That had to be the worst that could happen. Things should be fine now.

“Start running Sota, you’ve got some catching up to do!”

“Yes, Mr. Gojo, sir!” the kid replies, all but saluting. “I won’t disappoint you.”

Gojo’s laugh at that, as the kid takes off sprinting, couldn’t be more genuine.

You lean against the pristine Morino Iori headstone — it’s disrespectful, and you formulate a silent apology, but all you can do is hope they won’t mind. You’re exhausted, and yet the tension is keeping your body in hypervigilance, refusing to go away.

Gojo approaches you, hands in his pockets. The ghost of his usual smile is dancing on his lips. For once, though, it doesn’t feel mean-spirited.

“We have to save them if they need us,” he says, voice surprisingly soft, “but it’s as least as important that we teach them how to fend for themselves.

“I don’t disagree with that.”

This kind of reasoning just isn’t worth losing an arm over.

Gojo steps closer, leaning towards you, so close his nose is almost touching yours. You suck in a quick breath through your mouth. From up close, it’s much harder to ignore how handsome he is, even without seeing his eyes. You blame your accelerating heart rate on the fact that you’re in a high-stress kind of and you’re particularly pent-up at the moment. If your skin tingles when you feel his breath against it, it’s because of the cold. Must be. Whatever it is, you don’t let it show, and you hate that you’re finding it harder to breathe.

“You’re not what I expected.”

He’s said it before, but his voice is lower now, deeper, vibrating through your body, and something that you recognize all too well twists, deep in your abdomen.

Desire.

You don’t answer. You didn’t know what to say the first time, and you sure as fuck have no clue now — don’t know what he means, don’t know what you’ve done that you weren’t supposed to, don’t know if the interest in his voice betrays the same feelings rushing through you right now. So you glare at him until he laughs, light and airy, and takes a step back.

“If you need me, I’ll be on top of the temple, watching the kids.”

You wait for him to disappear between the tombs, keeping yourself still, too still, probably, to be inconspicuous, and it’s only once you’re sure he’s gone that you let yourself exhale very, very slowly. The urge to laugh at yourself bubbles inside you, because what the fuck is wrong with you? It’s not the right time, not the right place, and not even remotely the right person.

You’re fully aware of all of that, know it in the deepest parts of your soul, and yet your eyes still trail towards the temple. You could imagine that you’re seeing Gojo’s silhouette there, if you didn’t know better.

Except you do. You do.

When you look away, you know full well you’re doing it too pointedly.

You don’t get a chance to involve yourself in the Kyoto Goodwill Event. With the beginning of fall, files are starting to accumulate. Since you’re still getting your bearings in Tokyo and familiarizing yourself with the sorcerers you can send on missions, that is what you dedicate yourself to.

Or, well, that’s what you’re told.

You know that you’re more than capable of doing several things at once without botching any of them. Masamichi Yaga and Satoru Gojo are the ones who disagree. You’re called into Yaga’s office, and Gojo is already there, leaning against the wall behind him. For once, he isn’t wearing the bandages, but rectangular sunglasses. Even from behind them, you see the faint glow of his eyes, and it takes a lot — a lot more than it should — not to stare.

“The students taking part in this year’s event will be exclusively second and third-years. Satoru knows them well.”

“Yeah, and they’ve been training for a that for a while,” Gojo says without missing a beat. Where Yaga is stern and serious, his voice is relaxed and pleasant, lightening the mood without trying to. “The third-years have already won once, so they know what they’ve got to do for a repeat.”

That’s right. Tokyo won last year, under Gojo’s guidance, for the first time since… well, since he stopped competing himself, according to what you’ve heard.

“Satoru had already started putting this year’s strategy together by the time you joined Jujutsu Tech,” Yaga adds, trying his best to sound apologetic. “So there’s no need to concern yourself with that. It’s already well-oiled.”

As far as you’re concerned, the only thing that’s well-oiled here is this routine they’re performing, all for your sake. You click your tongue, not bothering to hide your annoyance, and watch as Yaga’s fingers curl, as Gojo’s chin lifts and the blueish glow focuses on you. There’s politics in the air, you can smell it, with a role you have to play. So they think, at least. Unfortunately, you lack knowledge when it comes to Japanese society, and you cannot quite identify what that role is.

To be fair, you also don’t care for it.

“Was it really necessary to waste all of our times with this charade?”

“I beg your pardon?” Yaga asks in response. His voice thunders dangerously. He’s warning you not to cross a line.

“If you don’t want me involved, you can just say so,” you answer with a shrug. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have missions to assign.”

You don’t wait for him to dismiss you to stand up, rolling your eyes once you have your back turned on them. How bland. You’ve never seen the point of engaging with this kind of theatrics when there are such greater things at play. Having you help the kids come up with a strategy of their own, going over the basics of planning, now that could have been interesting and helpful. It’s not that you doubt Gojo’s abilities in that domain, you don’t, but it is your specialty, and you’ve had to learn to survive with resources that are significantly more limited than his. Instead of doing that, in the name of whatever internal conflict is going on here, the kids have been deprived of that experience.

How boring.

Once the door has closed behind you, Gojo lowers his head, shoulders shaking. Yaga turns around, frowning, only to find him quietly laughing to himself.

“Told you she was a weird one,” he says once he’s caught his breath.

“Maybe,” Yaga mumbles, “but there must be a reason why she was placed here.”

Gojo hums. Outside the office, he follows your cursed energy. It has always been diffuse, fickle, fizzling out around you until it becomes hard to tell where it ends — even for him. Must have something to do with your cursed technique, but he hasn’t seen you use that yet. You go straight to your classroom, where you sit behind your desk to work, like you do every day until it’s late in the night.

Yaga is right, of course. There must be a reason. But you’re at least making it fun for him to figure out.

The Kyoto Goodwill Event does not go over well.

Maybe you should get some petty satisfaction from it, but there is none to be found, just a bitter taste in your mouth. Next to you, Utahime, the Kyoto school teacher, does not look up at the screens provided by Grade 1 sorcerer Mei Mei. She has her eyes on her hands, and she is nervously rubbing her fingers. In fact, while a few outsiders who have come to see the game for their own enjoyment exclaim at the students’ impressive moves, there is only one member of the schools who seems to be enjoying himself, and that is Principal Gakuganji.

Kyoto is methodical in their approach. On an individual level, you suspect that Kyoto is far ahead of them, but as a team, they have come up with the perfect strategy — at least against the Tokyo team. They have done their research, know everything there is to know about their adversaries. Then again, having one member of the Zen’in and one member of the Kamo family on their side, even if neither have access to their families’ historical techniques, must have been quite the help to gather that information.

You don’t see them doing anything revolutionary — if anything, a team such as theirs could have been composed hundreds of years ago — but they have no need for it, not with how brutal they are willing to be, leaving devastation in their wake. They’re prepared, efficient, collected. They’re also quick, having adapted to this modified version of capture the flag, one that involves curses, without hesitation.

Tokyo defends to the best of their abilities. They prove themselves especially capable when it comes to improvising on the spot, which means that Gojo’s teaching works on that front is working, at least. The match ends up closer than Kyoto must have been hoping for, but it doesn’t change the end result.

It’s a resounding victory for Kyoto.

“Well,” Gakuganji is the first to speak as it ends, “that was quite the beautiful display of sportsmanship, don’t you think, Satoru?”

You glance at Gojo, who is sitting next to you. There’s real anger in the way his jaw tenses at the question, but by the time you blink, he’s already relaxed it.

“That was really impressive!” he laughs, throwing his head back and clapping enthusiastically. “They’ve progressed so much since last year, haven’t they? I never imagined they would be able to come this far.”

You press your lips together at the barely veiled insult.

“Indeed, that is what realized potential looks like,” Gakuganji replies, stroking his beard. “Such a shame to see your promising pupils crashing and burning… Although that’s not the first time you’ve seen that happen, is it?”

That is the least charitable way of looking at what happened there, but it is impossible to argue with the facts: Kyoto bested Tokyo. You can’t say you appreciate the way he’s talking about your students, but you don’t think it’s your place to say anything.

Gojo’s smile thins.

“Well, I’ll be looking forward to the individual tournament tomorrow,” Gakuganji adds, standing up. “In the meantime, Yaga, I assume you have planned for accommodations, and all this action has given me quite the appetite.”

He leaves the room with an unmistakably pleased smile, Yaga getting up after him. He gestures at Gojo to join them, and he’s not hiding his scowl when he stands up, unfolding his long limbs slowly. The other sorcerers follow suit, Utahime included, though she is sporting a somber expression too. You’re the only one to linger in the room, in no rush to suffer through more of Gojo and Gakuganji’s quips.

When you do leave, you stop by the infirmary, where you find Ieiri cursing through her teeth as she works on the students. Even though several of them are fully healed, they’re keeping themselves huddled up together, shoulders hanging low, eyes on the ground.

Defeated.

“Professor Gojo has already come by,” one of them informs you without bothering to look at you. “We’re fine. We’ll do better tomorrow.”

“Yes, you will,” you confirm, and you see flashes of hope on their faces, mistaking your confidence for a prophecy. Truth be told, you haven’t seen anything for the next day, but this is often the best way of using the aura that surrounds you. “But you did well today. They saw a weak spot, and they exploited it. As long as you learn from it, there is no shame in this defeat.”

That deflates them, and Ieiri snickers, glancing at you with a grin.

“Quite the pep talk you’re giving here.’

She’s right. You’ve never been good at this.

“You’re all excellent sorcerers, but even you can be defeated by people who are not as good as you, provided they’ve prepared adequately. That is what you need to take away from today. Conversely, you will be able to defeat much stronger adversaries than you, with the right approach.”

Some look thoughtful at your words — most still look just as dejected as they were when you walked in.

“We’ll work on that once this tournament is over. For now, all you need to do is rest. You’ll prevail tomorrow.”

Smiles finally break on their faces, and you take that as your cue to leave, before you can say something that would ruin it again.

You’re in no rush to join the other sorcerers just yet, so you wander through the hallways, intending to go back to the classroom that’s become your refuge in the school. You’re one corner away from it, when the window that leads to the outside slides open, and Satoru Gojo jumps in, right in front of you. It is the second floor, yet you can’t muster surprise.

He shoots you a smirk that knocks the air out of you, but it’s nothing compared to what he does next. He looks back towards the window, looking displeased, and that’s when you notice voices calling for him — Kyoto students and low-level sorcerers. You’re about to look down when he catches you. He wraps a hand around your wrist to pull you away, presses the other on the wall, next to your head, and you freeze. He’s close, and everything you’ve been feeling for weeks at this point comes rushing back in.

“You know what’s a great way of getting people’s attention off you?” he asks, smirk even wider, if possible.

“Wh—”

Then his lips are on yours.

He tastes sweet, you’re surprised to find.

It’s playful, the way he kisses you, a press of his mouth against yours, stolen, daring. It’s also all you need to admit to yourself how badly you’ve been wanting this. That’s why you’re the one who wraps your arms around his neck, kissing him back harder. He lets out a surprised noise into you, maybe a chuckle, but he certainly doesn’t fight it, even if he wasn’t planning on it. In fact, it’s quite the contrary.

He reaches greedily for your hips, pulling you to him and keeping you pressed against his hard chest. When you part your lips, there is not a moment of hesitation on his part before he pushes his tongue in, swirling it against yours. You crane your neck to give him better access to your mouth, all while holding on tight to his neck to lower him towards you. Your back is against the wall, your body arched a way that would be uncomfortable if you weren’t so hot all over, set ablaze by his touch.

When he pushes his thigh between your legs, flexing it so it rubs against you just right, your knees buckle under you. It doesn’t help that, in this position, his semi-hard cock is pressed against your abdomen, and that awakens a very special kind of hunger within you.

There is no softness to the kiss or to the way your bodies move together, just pure lust. Wetness is pooling between your legs already, in anticipation for more, more of him, more of his body, more of his touch. He’s so tall, it’s like he’s everywhere, his scent surrounding you, his body caging you against the wall effortlessly, his mouth demanding more and more of you. You roll your hips against his, trapping his cock between your bodies, and he hisses into you, his grip turning bruising — not that you mind.

“Tease,” he manages to mumble as he takes a quick breath.

There’s no room for any more words before he reattaches his mouth to yours, almost biting into you, and fuck it feels good. His lips are soft, but that must be the only thing that is soft about this kiss. He moves your skirt out of the way, one hand coming to grab your thigh so he can lift it up, and that is when your eyes snap open, some reason coming back to your lust-filled brain at last.

“Wait,” you mumble, “not here.” Your eyes dart around the dark hallway — empty, but far too in the open for your liking. Problem is, your body is aching with how much you want him, and, even if it would be the smart thing to do, you can’t bring yourself to stop now. “Classroom,” you conclude, pulling him with you.

He lets out a breathless laugh, but follows. The second the door is closed, he has you against the wall again, this time with his chest pressed to your back while his lips find your neck, teeth pulling at the skin mercilessly before dragging his tongue on the sensitive area to soothe it. You let out a sigh, but it comes out much louder than you’d intended, almost a moan, and you have to lift a hand up to cover your mouth. He snickers, but doesn’t waste any more time on teasing you.

Instead, he snakes his hand into your skirt, and this time, you don’t stop him. Long fingers move past the hem of your panties to brush against your clit and you jump, biting your lower lip to keep quiet. His lips stretch into a smile on your neck.

“You’re so fucking wet already,” he comments by your ear, rubbing his fingers over your pussy lips, purposefully not entering you.

You groan in frustration, and push your ass against his now rock-hard cock. The low moan he lets out in surprise is delightful to hear.

“As if you’re one to talk,” you reply.

“Is that how you want to play it?”

Before you can answer him, he easily pushes two fingers inside you. They’re long and they fill you so well, you have to focus every fiber of you that’s not lost in pleasure on keeping quiet. Gojo’s free to take his fingers out, then plunge them into you once more, and you can’t help clenching needily around them.

“See,” he says, and oh his low voice, the way it makes his chest vibrate against your back, it all goes straight to your core, making you gush around his fingers some more, “that’s expected of me, ‘cause everyone knows I’m sorcerer society’s problem child. Aren’t you supposed to be the good girl?”

It’s no easy task to think with his fingers pumping in and out of you relentlessly, but even through the haze of pleasure, the words make you frown.

“Says— Ah— Says who?”

He uses the heel of his palm to press against your clit, and you’d conclude that he is actively trying to render you speechless if pleasure wasn’t shooting through you like electricity.

“Hmm, I don’t know, I’d say you’re being pretty good right now, wouldn’t you?”

“Would you— fuck— would you stop talking and just fuck me already?” you still manage to bite out.

He laughs again, delighted and maybe a little fond, but he stills his fingers inside you. You get some time to catch your breath, and use whatever self-control you have left not to try and fuck yourself on his hand.

“You sure?”

“As long as you’re clean, I’m safe,” you say — maybe not your smartest moment, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

He pulls his fingers out, and you glance at him over your shoulder. He’s still wearing the bandages over his eyes, but his jaw is uncharacteristically taut, and his movements lack their usual fluidity. You grin. Good to see you’re having an effect on him too. It becomes even more obvious when he pulls out his cock, hard and veiny. You’re not surprised by how big he is, and you find yourself licking your lips, clenching around air at the prospect of what’s to come. Shit, you cannot wait to have it inside you, stretching you out.

“I’ve been wanting to mess up that skirt for weeks,” he mumbles, mostly to himself, as he pushes it out of the way and lowers your panties.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you ask with a click of your tongue. He is still talking way more than he should.

The smirk he gives you should concern you. He presses the tip of his cock to your entrance, and then, instead of penetrating you, as you’re frozen in anticipation, slides his length against your pussy lips, sending jolts of pleasure through you, but not giving you what you need right now. You whimper pleadingly, not catching yourself fast enough to keep yourself silent. You worry that he will keep teasing, but it appears he has reached his limits too, because soon he is pushing the tip of his cock inside you, and fuck, it’s even better than you’d imagined.

You hear him grunt behind you as he starts pushing himself inside you at a devilishly slow pace. You expected him to do it all at once, so you turn around once more, ready to throw another quip at him for his relentless teasing, but the words die on your lips when you see his face. His teeth are planted in his lower lip, and his face is contorted in a pleasure that he is clearly trying to reign in, his breathing quick and shallow, his chest heaving. The sight leaves you breathless, so you stay quiet.

“So fucking tight,” he all but whines as he keeps pushing himself inside you.

He bottoms out at last, and he stills for a few seconds, all so you can adjust and not at all because he is going to come too fast if he can’t get used to how warm and welcoming you are around him first. The discreet groans he was letting out turn into a full moan when you move forward, pulling him out of you, then back, sheathing him inside you completely once more. You’d keep moving, but he grips your hips tightly, fingers digging into the flesh, to stop any movement you could make.

It doesn’t last long though, because after that, he starts moving himself, and the pace he sets it merciless. The slapping of skin on skin echoes obscenely in the empty room, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when you can barely think, not when your knees are failing you and his hands on hips are the only thing keeping you standing, not when tiny whimpers keep spilling past your lips, no matter how much you try to keep them in.

“Couldn’t be even just a little patient, hm?” he asks you. It’s undercut by the gasps that interrupt him, the pleasured moans that escape him too.

This time, you don’t find anything to answer. The angle, with you bent over, hands on the wall in a desperate attempt to stay on your feet, makes you feel so, so full that you can’t think straight. Pleasure is coursing through you with each time he hammers into you, and you clench around him helplessly each time he pulls out. He’s fast, relentless, but if the way his moans keep getting more-pitched is any indication, he’s close to reaching his climax. You’re not far yourself, you just— just need— just a little—

One of his hands abandons your hip, and you would stumble forward if he wasn’t holding you so firmly. His free hand finds its way to your clit, and pinches it expertly, just as he snaps his hips into you harder than he has so far, spilling himself inside you. The orgasm hits you like a thousand volts, and your hips jerk back uncontrollably, whole body shaking, as you ride the wave of it on his cock until it ends. Ah, you needed this so badly that, as it recedes, you can only feel content, the pleasure it gave you still tingling in your body.

For a while, the sounds of you and Gojo’s panting are all that fill the room. Finally, he pulls his sensitive, softening cock out a you with a hiss, and you ignore the squelching sound it makes. He tucks it back into his pants, and you finally find it in yourself to pull your panties back up, readjusting your skirt. Your hair is messy from the kissing earlier, but apart from that, you’re still rather presentable — you hope.

“Didn’t think you had that in you,” Gojo comments. He’s still catching his breath.

“At what point are you going to admit that you’ve just misjudged me?”

He laughs, but the smirk he shoots you, hands in his pockets, standing a few feet away from you, is proof that the distance between the two of you is back to what it was before. You don’t find yourself minding all that much. This is as good a way as any other to release tension, and you’re more relaxed than you have in weeks. The lightness of his voice tells you the same is true for him. Seems like you both got the same thing out of it, and that’s fine by you, even if it doesn’t bring you any closer.

“Once I know I was wrong,” he says. It sounds ominous, but, well, if he wants to keep clinging to that image he’s made of you, that is his problem. So far, you’d argue that it has rather worked in your favor.

You shrug.

“If you hadn’t felt that way, Tokyo would have won today,” you tell him matter-of-factly.

His smile widens.

“Guess we’ll have to see about that next year, hm?”

“I guess we will.”

Silence grows between the two of you. You normally wouldn’t mind. Now, you feel the need to say something.

“This should stay between us,” you finally manage to say. Sorcerer society can be— harsh, on women, to say the least. The last thing you need is for someone to know you’ve fucked your coworker. You’d be branded as a whore, and while you find this all horribly regressive, you’d still rather not have to deal with the fallout.

Gojo hums in agreement.

“I’m not really the type to want all my business out there either,” he tells you in a surprising display of sincerity. It’s ruined when he smirks and adds, “Next time, I think I should fuck you on your desk.”

You scoff, but you know you both hear your lack of denial loud and clear. You’re not opposed to there being a next time, provided this doesn’t get out. By the look of things, it would be mutually beneficial.

You don’t bother to answer him before you open the door, glancing outside. No one in sight. He would have known if that had been the case, of course, but you’re still relieved. You slip outside unceremoniously — it’s pretty clear you’re done here anyway — and he does nothing to hold you back.

Later, after you’ve taken a quick shower in the facilities available at the high school and you’re sat by Ieiri around the dinner table, Gakuganji can barely hide his smugness.

“Where you have been off to?” he asks Gojo, his tone making it clear just how pleased with himself he is. “Licking your wounds?”

“Something like that,” Gojo answers lightly, and you’re careful to keep your eyes on your food.

The conversation fades into the background. Your thoughts move to the upcoming solo tournament, the next day, to your students, to the missions you have to assign. And then, for the first time in forever, you find yourself distracted by something that isn’t work-related. You welcome the respite it gives you.

On your desk, next time, huh?

You could work with that.

thank you all for reading and getting all the way here! interactions are what keeps me writing, so please comment/reblog/send an ask to feed your author and have my eternal gratitude!

tagging people who expressed interest in the first chapter: @sapphiccloud @saccharine-nectarine @calypsothegoddess @aspiring-bookworm @aerismonia

[aroarachnid]

"but if it were me, I'd really wanna be, a giant woman"

stevens relationship with gender is so fascinating to me. his entire diamond days arc is a clear trans allegory, but more specifically reads as a transmasc allegory, what with everyone reffering to him as "rose" or "pink" and feminine terms despite his repeated insistence that he is *steven*. and yet he never actually corrects anyone when they use she/her. he only corrects his name. this was pointed out in the tags of that one post youve probably seen:

this post doesnt show it, but steven is delighted when blue said this. obviously you can read this as steven being glad that shes making an effort, even if incorrect, and is just choosing to let the wrong pronouns slide. but its never explicitly stated. and like i said, he never corrects she/her, he only corrects his name. although it is interesting that, by the time the movie rolls around, the diamonds have switched to he/him.

its also interesting to mention how excited he was to put on pink diamonds outfit, and also how quickly he took it off once he got the chance.

of course stevens relationship with his mother and his identity issues are going to play a big part in how he percieves his gender, given that for a large chunk of the show he actually belived they were the same person, at least to some extent. ("im my mom and my sister?! what kind of magical destiny is this?!). how would you define your "agab" when half your family is telling you that you are a centuries old alien called rose/pink who has no sex and used she/her? not to mention all of the various gender identities and pronouns his fusions have.

thats not even getting started on how the gems percieve gender, which is to say, they generally don't. gems are sexless beings and their society has no concept of gender, although after spending a long time on earth im sure the crystal gems have a better understanding (i actually could talk about the gems relation to human gender a lot more but ill save that for another time). for steven, a child raised by gems for a good chunk of his childhood- who use feminine terms as a default-i can see how that would lead to some interesting perceptions on gender presentation.

thats not even getting into stevens gender noncomformity. and while gender presentation doesnt necessarily have anything to do with your gender identity, its interesting to note and i just think its really cool that a male protagonist is so unapologetically feminine

also i could talk for days about connie and stevens knight/princess dynamic, and how it parallels pearl and roses, but in a healthier way that nips the whole "obssesive self sacrifice" thing in the (rose) bud as soon as steven notices it. but then id have to talk about pearl and then wed be here all day lol

so yeah, stevens relationship with gender fascinates me. I mean, does the concept of "cisgender" even apply in the way we usually mean it to, given stevens unique experiences?