#and i wanted to do something that mattered

[madamechrissy]

Clan Leader Geto Headcanons

Clan/cult leader Suguru x fem reader- Suguru Geto is the head of HIS clan and totally HATES monkeys, and forced to marry YOU (I see this trope w/Gojo sm - I'm putting Suguru in Satoru's position hehe)

MDNI- explicit sexual content, reader is a virgin but not much is mentioned in it aside from she doesn't know things lol, obsessed Suguru, masturbation (Suguru) oral (f receiving) lowkey hate sex, he calls you a monkey, is an asshole, reader calls him psycho, Geto is bad at feelings lol. comment to get taggedd gonna be a fic soonn

Clan Leader Geto who finds out he's forced to marry a human of all things!? A pathetic, pretty human with absolutely no cursed energy, so he detests you on sight.

Clan Leader Geto is disgusted by the thought of having to be with you, he certainly doesn't want to kiss you at the wedding. Sure he sleeps with members of his cult, and he can see you're gorgeous, but mortals just have no pull for him. When you're walking up in these pretty white robes for their wedding day, he tries not to even look in your direction.

Clan Leader Geto doesn't realize you are terrified, you've heard just how insane this curse user is, and you certainly don't want to be with someone like this. Sure, he's a beautiful man, his long silky black hair, his violet eyes that land on you for just a moment, he's tall and has the perfect jaw line, but you can't be interested in him, when full of fear. But, you must do your duty.

Clan Leader Geto leans down and gives you a perfunctory kiss as you all get married, you see all the women who are obsessed with him whispering about you, making you lower your head, as Suguru tries to figure out just what it was that he felt from you, glaring and grabbing your wrist. 'do you have any cursed energy?' you pull back your hand. 'you already know the answer' so why then does he feel something odd from your energy!?

Clan Leader Geto decides to ignore whatever thoughts those are, laughing and having a goblet of wine as he talks amongst the actual people that matter, the people with cursed energy, and unfortunately the members of the Geto clan, who annoy him to no end. But he tolerates them, as they help him garner more power, after all. When he sees someone dancing along with you at the party, something makes his jaw clench, and why!?

Clan Leader Geto is forced to have to spend the night in the luxurious room they have set up for the two of you, he walks in and sees you in some translucent nightgown, which hits him in the gut, and he can't really figure out why, except he is a man, and his body is reacting, but he just narrows violet eyes at you, while you're brushing your hair in the mirror. You stand up nervously, giving him just a little lowering of your head, before you look at him with frightened eyes, he chuckles a bit, undoing his green and gold belt, then untying his hair, letting it fall softly.

Clan Leader Geto steps to you with an open robe, showcasing a strong chest and defined abdomen, his perfect skin stretched to fit such muscles, stepping closer as he assesses you, murmuring 'guess we should get this over with' your heart beats out of your chest, completely unsure of just what that entails aside from what you've heard, you've been very sheltered as his promised bride. 'must we?' you ask, earning his mean laugh. 'I don't want to anymore than you do, monkey' you glare now, undoing your gown and letting it fall to your feet, watching his thin nostrils flare, his lips part.

Clan Leader Geto is momentarily stunned at the sight of your body, cock already straining in his pants, he instantly hates you more for your stupid effects, as you step to the futon, decorated in blacks and reds, spreading your legs and showing a perfect, pretty little pussy making his mouth water, not that he'd admit it. He disrobes and you see his cock, huge, he steps forward, grabbing you by your hair then, tilting your chin up. 'Do you even know what to do?' your jaw clenches, as he leans forward, the prick of him pulling your hair making you want to cry out in pain. 'no, I do not, but I'm ready'

Clan Leader Geto chuckles, pressing you pack and grabbing you by your hips, before sucking on his two fingers, lewd as his cheeks hollow, then sinking them in your cunt, making you cry out at the stretch. He is cursing internally that you're that tight, because he won't in fact fit easily. 'Tsk, now I'll have to prep a monkey, detestable' you gasp at him, hips arching up 'and I have to fuck a psycho, detestable' at that Suguru snaps, curling his fingers up and hitting some spot that makes you gush down his fingers, as he scissors them faster and faster, nipping at your breasts, earning your smack and his glare 'you dare smack me?' you panic, realizing your folly, but he's hitting some spot that feels too good, so now you're panting, as his cock is leaking precum, ready to slip inside

Clan Leader Geto sinks into your tight entrance, he gives you no mercy or room to adjust, eyes dilated as he sinks so deep you're screaming out, nails digging into his biceps, still scowling at him 'get it o-over with' you whisper, he tries to stifle a moan at how good you feel, better than anything, wondering just what the fuck you are. 'oh, so done with me already, monkey?' he taunts, pumping in and out of your tight little cunt then, and you ignore how good it starts to feel, holding in every sigh, just glaring 'just give me your heir quickly' he loses himself then, burying his face in your neck, there he can allow his eyes to shut in ecstasy, as he fucks into you, feeling your walls flutter despite your words

Clan Leader Geto wants to hear your moans but you refuse out of spite, but when he leans up and pushes up your thighs, and his huge, veiny length is hitting your cervix, you have to cover your face, earning him yanking your wrists down. 'I'll look upon you' he pins your wrists up, fucking harder and harder until you can't stop the orgasm that happens, making you whimper, eyes rolling back, mouth open in this slutty O, and Suguru can't take how sexy you look, he busts so deep inside you, cumming more than he ever has, loads of hot sticky white ropes deep, and he pauses then, as your eyes lock on each other, just staring at you for far too long before you glare 'you're all done, could you get off me?'

Clan Leader Geto fucks you the next night, but he's tired of you acting like you don't like it, so he leans back on his knees, seeing the bulge of his cock in your tummy, finding your clit with his thumb and watching you fall apart, thighs clenching his hips as you whine pathetically. 'stop that!' he chuckles now 'why, monkey?' you grip his wrist, feeling the climax starting, the pressure in your tummy when he rolls it in circles 'just cum inside me, stop doing th-that!' Suguru can't stop, not when he watches you fall apart, feels you cumming all over his cock, no he needs to get you off again. Using it as an excuse to keep cum inside you, he's fingering his cum back in you the next night, making you jerk and twitch, and then he realizes he just needs more.

Clan Leader Geto can't STOP thinking about fucking you again, and again, to the point he's got you in his office, fucking up into you leaned back in his seat, then he decides no he needs more, and he's got you cockwarming him as he starts his cult meetings. He toys with your clit as you soak his cock, chuckling in your ear - 'you're so slutty now, huh' earning you clenching your pussy so tight he almost busts, scowling at you. You hate him more when he's licking your pussy soon, you're yanking dark locks, the feel of his tastebuds in your pussy is far too much 'this isn't how heirs are m-made, just f-fuck me, you psycho' you try to detatch his mouth, but it's already sucking on your clit, as he gets this taste of you, he's ended, and can't stop, only pulling up with glossy lips and dilated eyes to smirk up at you 'it'll help make... heirs, foolish monkey' you shake your head and he's chuckling as he's lapping up your wetness 'orgasms help it take, hmm?'

Clan Leader Geto finds every opportunity to eat out his new bride, with the intention of course of getting her pregnant sooner! there is no other reason, he justifies, couldn't be that your taste drives him insane, or feeling your walls quivering around his tongue makes him cum from just that, soon you're just getting eaten out and he's not fucking you, making you cum over and over on his mouth, whenever he asks you to see him, that's what he's doing, and you're starting to forget how awful he is, your stupid head too fucked up from orgasms. His assistant walks in on his head buried between your thighs, the one he used to fuck actually, and she clears her throat as Suguru looks at her and glares - 'what- m'busy' you close your legs nervously, adjusting your robes as the assistant sighs 'we have that cult meeting, Mr. Geto' he frowns, because he'd rather eat you out than do that, and you remember then, he's horrible and psychotic, and hop off, leaving in a rush.

Clan Leader Geto finds you crying later because the people in his group are calling you worthless, a monkey, this and that, things he calls you, but for some reason he's infuriated, as he sees tears streak down your face 'I hate it here! I do!' you're shutting him out now, as you realize you're the only human in a place full of people who don't want you to exist, mainly your husband, a husband although you've had sex with countless times, you have never even kissed, a husband who hates you. After ignoring him for weeks, he begins to jerk off to the thought of you, begins to take your underwear and lick it, as he strokes his cock, ignoring every advance, too stubborn to admit he wants more with you. How can he!? You're a stupid monkey after all, so he just keeps pleasuring himself as you pull away, as you lock your door, until you finally come in and say - 'I'm pregnant, it's... we don't have to again' and Suguru drops to his knees.

So this will be a long oneshot or mini series- Suguru is gonna be an asshole cult leader but down bad for you, a MONKEY lmfao, some hate sex FOR SURE, lmk if you wanna get tagged when it's out <3

Permatags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @loafteaw @aldebrana @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays  @designerpvssy @orixxxana @jinjen and tagging @norikuna bc it's Sugu hehe

[itsrlymine]

There is No "In Spite Of". It’s Because Of. 

“I get what I want no matter what the 3d shows me.” “I have my man in spite of what I’m seeing. Omg, did he just lick her ti-” “I don’t care what my bank account says, I have 3 trillion in it anyways.” .......

Do you realize that instead of looking at the 3d and rationalizing what you are seeing, you can just decide it instead?? When I started this page, I didn’t say “oh well even though I have 5 followers, I actually have 1200.” NO! I said b*tch I have damn near 5k kiss my ass Tumblr notifications and look at that, I do. The 3d shows you what you say she does. Stop trying to be friends and put that b*tch her in the place tf!!!! If everything is what you say it is, then say what you need to say and know it’s true now. Stop being an attention seeking wh*re and continually asking the 3d to change bc she won’t listen to you! She’s gonna hear your miserable tears and give you more shit to cry about unless you decide you are crying about how you just got the most fire pipe/pus in the world! I’m so serious. Turn that inner frown upside down so you can turn your outer world around.  This is simple and if you want to argue it’s not, you can’t be shocked you experience that. Notice how you don’t need evidence of negative things to occur before you decide on whether or not they will happen. So why is it now the opposite for what you do want? You are the one providing evidence to yourself about whether or not something will occur, not the other way around. Who you say you are dictates what is around you. At this very moment,  you can say “I’m living my best life with my partner and I’m rich asf and I have a fatass house….” And the only thing that would make that not true is whether or not you choose to argue that. Yup. It’s that simple. Decide what you are seeing. Decide what the 3d is showing you because the 3d is you. Decide. Decide. Decide.  I’m not saying to ignore your feelings or emotions, though they don’t control the outcome. I’m saying that even if you are physically feeling something, change the meaning internally. It works every time.

You can literally sit and not drive a car for an entire month and a half and decide one day you are going to start driving again. Before you get in, are you questioning yourself on whether or not you can still do it??? If before the break you knew yourself to be an excellent driver, why would one month of not doing so shake your foundation? Some people never forget how to do things because they decide they can never forget. Everything is you. If everything is now, then you’ve already done it. You’re never “out of practice,” never “starting over,” because nothing was ever lost in the first place.  There is no time working against you. It’s just you vs. you. Your perception of everything and relation to it. If you’re thinking something outside of you is outside of you, how can you be shocked you can’t reach it? When you truly know something is done, you don’t stress about it or have to take deep breaths to “regulate” your nervous system. You just know. So before you opened your window to see the sun in the morning, even as you saw sun rays or the light from the sun but not the sun itself, did you have to meditate on the fact that “omg yes, let me breathe and just remind myself that I will see the sun bc it has to show up and I am gonna see it and it’s gonna be—“ NO YOU DIDN’T. YOU JUST KNEW AND OPENED THE DAMN WINDOW. JUST KNOW AND OPEN YOUR MIND’S EYE TO THAT WHICH YOU WANT TO EXPERIENCE DAMN. How is anybody still asking if things are possible when that’s the reason way they exist? Possibilities exist because you do. You give everything life. Feeding old stories about why this and why that happened just resurrects zombies of your “past” that you don’t want to deal with so stop doing that. Stop trying to justify the 3d or accept crumbs when you should just accept yourself and the story you are telling because that is the ultimate truth. What you see, say or think inwardly IS what projects outwardly so what the fuck is going on within you? 

[quarterlifekitty]

So I saw this lovely post and was like hey. I am a non confrontational bitch. What if reader was really looking forward to a Valentine’s Day with Simon, and was gutted that he forgot, but tried to suck it up?

Like, I imagine he would notice that you seemed a little bit blue for a bit, but again, he’s new to relationships— he doesn’t want to press on something you’re not ready to share. That’s how he would want to be treated, he hates being prodded, so he keeps his distance, because he doesn’t know what kind of love you need yet. You’re speaking different languages.

It’s not till weeks later— Gaz mentions using a couples spa voucher over his next leave that he got for his girl for valentines. Hey, Ghost, you met yours in December, right? What did you get her for Valentine’s Day?

The stunned silence speaks volumes.

He connects the dots to your low mood at that time. He tries really desperately to think of something to make up for it. Something he can get. But they’re all quick and dirty solutions. He doesn’t want to lie— and it’d be obvious he was only getting something because he felt bad. So he decides to just talk, loathe as he is to do so.

“I missed Valentine’s Day.”

“Yes, you did. But it’s just another day, I guess.” Spoken like someone convincing themselves, not their conversation partner.

“And that’s why you seemed… down.”

“I won’t lie. It made me a little sad… But really, it’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is if it upset you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, if it wasn’t a day that mattered to you… I didn’t want to seem childish. I didn’t want to force you to play along with all of the cards and hearts and things. I was silly to get upset, I know—“

Feeling provoked by the prospect of being high maintenance, you shove down your feelings and needs until they barely take up any space at all. That’s how it goes.

“S’not silly. If it’s important to you, s’important to me. Don’t want you to change jus’ cause you think it’ll make my life easier. When I told you I wanted you, I meant I wanted the whole lot.”

He knows he can’t buy back the 14th. But what’s the thing a girl who loves you wants most in the world? As a child, he found out from discarded magazines that it was something everyone claimed to have the answer to, but didn’t.

She wants a piece of you that no one else in the world has.

He gives you that in the form of his first set of dog tags. The pieces of tin on ball chain that changed his life and how he saw the world forever. His full legal name punched clear, before he’d learned to hide it along with his face. One of the last relics of a Simon that stopped existing before he turned 20.

You keep them wrapped in your fist like a rosary while you sleep every time he goes on leave.

[earthtooz]

cw: fluff, phainon being shirtless and shameless and sending reader into a frenzy without even realising, based on the fact that phainon has awful fashion taste, unedited because i wrote this in one sitting sawry

"lord phainon... maybe you should let me pick out your outfit."

the chrysos heir, clueless as ever, glances at the atrocious combination of yellow and purple that sits on the edge of an armchair. you don't even think you can stomach looking at the clothes, the patterns mismatched and the colours clashing so much that you would have to squint to stomach looking at it.

even if he weren't such an important figure in society, you would still refuse to let him leave the estate looking like this, especially for the party lady aglaea was hosting.

you don't even want to think what her reaction to this pairing would be.

yet, phainon thinks nothing wrong of his... choice.

"what's wrong with this one?"

you choke down your more honest thoughts and go with something that won't upset him. "the outfit is far too casual for the occasion, we need something more appropriate!"

"alright, how about-"

his hand reaches to open his wardrobe again and you intercept its path before he can even touch the doorknob.

"how about you just leave this to me, lord phainon?" you insist, brushing his wrist aside. "i like to say i have an eye for things like this!"

he blinks at you, "alright."

as you deliberate through the selection of (rarely touched) clothes, your eyes and hands land on a white, silk dress shirt with blue accents, matching the colours of his normal attire. it looks sensible enough, and fitting for someone with the status of a prophesied 'new king', if you find a fitting set of jewellery, and a pair of black slacks and shoes, lady aglaea would surely allow him entry and not shoo him away for being a sore sight for her eyes.

however, in your rumination, you fail to hear the unbuckling of belts and shedding of clothes occurring behind you.

and when you turn to show him a potential dress shirt, your words barely make it off your tongue before you're squealing, almost falling into the closet.

"what's the matter?"

his toned back muscles, in all their glory, stare back at you as phainon looks over his shoulder, curiosity swirling in his aquamarine eyes. the curvature of his biceps, deltoids, and titans forbid- his waist, on proud display with supple skin, save for a few fading scars here and there- fuck, even his scars had muscles, you should just have let him wear that darned yellow and purple outfit instead of offering to help!

does he have no shame? well- you suppose he did need to be shirtless to try something on, and there's no dubious intent behind his actions, and with a body like his, what's there to be ashamed about?

by amphoreus, he's going to kill you.

"nothing," you choke out, casting your gaze away as you approach him with stiff steps. "try this on."

"okay."

then he extends his arms out, as if expecting you to help him put it on and you both stare at each other for a long moment, phainon, waiting for you to put the shirt on him, and you, waiting for phainon to take the shirt from you.

he's a grown man, why do you need to help him?

muttering a silent curse under your breath, you pretend like there isn't heat rising to your cheeks as he threads his arm through the material. you pretend like your hands aren't shaking when you do up his buttons, fingers careful not to graze his torso that's radiating heat from under the fabric. you pretend like it doesn't affect you when your knuckles graze his chest while fixing his collar. you pretend to busy yourself with the hanger when really, you just can't look him in the eye without feeling hot. and faint.

when you gently cuff his sleeves, you feel his gaze burning holes to the top of your head, and you don't dare look up to check.

"here, these will match." clasping gold bracelets, and slipping gold rings on his gloveless hands, you decide the selection to be fitting. "this looks good, and that shirt fits you very well."

"you think so?"

then you make the mistake of looking him in the eye.

you may not know phainon like the back of your hand, but you're all too familiar with the sheen of heroic determination in his eyes that makes them shine like the rarest aquamarine crystal, yet, it's replaced with something cozier, something as clear as a pond reflecting the blue sky. it steals the breath from your lungs and clutches at your heart, and you feel your mind preparing to shutdown for the second time in minutes.

parting from him like he was fire that had licked you, your movements are awkward when you go back to his wardrobe.

"i'll find some matching slacks and shoes, just wait a little longer."

this time, your ears catch the sound of a belt unbuckling.

"phainon. please, do not take off your pants."

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[sluturu]

GAG ON IT .ᐟ — N. KENTO ୨‧₊˚✩

about. the only thing you want more than anything in the world is to get your boyfriend off but… you don't know how. luckily, nanami kento is a great teacher.

pairing. nanami kento x f!reader (non-sorcerer au)

wc. 2.6k

cw. dom!nanami, sub!virgin reader, (messy) oral (m. receiving), humiliation kink (if you squint), reader has a heavy praise kink, f!masturbation, pet names, face f!cking + deepthroating, head-pusher nanamin <3, slight angst (again, if you squint), reader is kinda insecure about lack of experience, lots of praise and validation ♡

kit’s note. hi, i'm (sorta) new here so pls forgive my writing and any mistakes... i haven't written in, like, 84 years and this really wasn’t supposed to be as long as it is. nonetheless, i hope u enjoy my very first jjk fic — kit ୨ৎ

nanami kento was one sexually experienced man. 

you knew this. from the very first glance, it was undeniable. something in the way he carried himself, the gravity of his presence, told you—no, assured you—that he would unravel you, reshape you, and leave his mark in ways you couldn’t yet comprehend.

and, of course, you were correct.

you, however, were his perfect contradiction, a stark contrast that bled into everything you had built together, evident in every moment, every choice, every collision of your worlds.

nanami was your first boyfriend, and while school had offered its version of ‘sex education’ and the internet had no shortage of explicit material, none of it had ever translated into real experience—well, until him.

you’ve been turned on before, no doubt about it. you’ve given yourself a few weak orgasms with an amazon vibrator, sure. but the carnal desire you got when nanami was around was a feeling you’d never experienced before. how could a man be so hot and sweet and turn you on without even trying? he was perfect. beyond perfect. 

and he was respectful. always so respectful. he wanted your first time to be everything you’ve ever dreamed of because he knows that’s what everyone deserves– it’s what you, above all, deserve. that’s why he decided to take it slow regardless of his personal desires. 

it started with soft pecks. the teeny tiny ones that had you aching for more. those slowly led to real kisses, his tongue seeking solace in your mouth, roaming and exploring the new territory. then came the make out sessions, him leaving love bites on your neck while you rocked yourself against him subconsciously. which finally verged on him eating you out with his thick, long fingers fucking in and out of your cunt. 

he was amazing– so mind-boggling that you couldn’t make sense of it. while you knew that he knew what he was doing, it had you appalled. he could make you cum one, two, three times in one sitting and you’ve never even heard of anything like this in your friends’ sex lives. 

there was one miniscule problem with nanami, though. when you would ask if he needed help with the big… issue in his pants, he’d brush you off with a “don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” like the gentleman he is.

the more and more he refused your helping hand, the worse you felt. why should you be the only one that gets to feel good? especially when it’s at the hand of someone as compassionate and caring as nanami. 

the insecurities had been festering within you for a while now. all you wanted was for him to feel good. you wanted him to have the same toe-curling experiences that he gives you. you wanted him to cum for you, because of you.

you’d hoped that one day, he might ask you for help to get him off, yet that day never came. 

it’s why you decided to take matters into your own hands, asking him to come over to your apartment and dropping to your knees the second he entered your home. you gave him the biggest doe eyes and pout you could muster. 

he was stunned, mouth ajar and eyes widened. you’re not usually so bold with him, which was fine. admittedly, he always thought your aversion to talking about sexual things was kinda cute. 

still awestruck after a minute, he breathily asks, “sweetheart, wh-what are you…��� 

“well, ken, i’ve been thinking about you and me a lot lately and i realized… you’re always so giving… ‘n you’re always taking such good care of me.” you shyly trail off him as your hands itched to touch him… to take his cock into your hands– into your mouth. “i wanna take care of you now, if you’d let me?”

“you don’t have to do that, my love. i do those things because i want to, not because i have to. you should know that.” he says, airly. a voice that you’ve only ever heard a handful of times. one that makes your cunt pulse. 

“i know. i jus’ want you to use my mouth, ken. you’re… you’re always making me feel good,” you beg with your eyes. “wanna make you feel good, too.”

“oh, baby,” he smiles softly at you, hand cupping your cheek while his finger brushes over the pout on your lips. “but you always make me feel good.” 

you slightly open your mouth allowing his thumb to enter. your lips wrap around his finger, eyes fluttering close and a broken, needy moan sounding in your throat. you suck the way you’d actually suck him off, hand coming to wrap around his wrist while your tongue swirls around him.

nanami holds back his moan at the sight of you crazed and depraved. he’s seen you needy before but never to this degree. never so eager to please.

“fuck,” he muttered to himself, slipping his thumb out of your mouth and smearing your saliva over your lips. he pulls your bottom lip down, “you want it that bad, princess?”

 you nodded, “please— so bad, kento.” 

and he could never say no to you. especially not when you’re giving him teary eyes and that voice. 

so he nods, unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down. the sound alone excites you, yet you can’t help but feel the apprehension of being face to face with his cock. 

nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight before you. while you’d felt him through his pants during your messy makeout sessions, his intimidating size exceeded your expectations by a mile. you accepted the challenge, nonetheless. 

and now, here you were struggling to take his cock down your throat. and while he’d been praising you like crazy, you knew good and well he wasn’t getting off anytime soon. it’s when he suggested eating you out instead, you knew that your attempts were futile.

“you wanna try again, baby?” nanami coos softly as he strokes the top of your head. “we can stop if you wanna… i can eat that pretty pussy instead, i don’t mind at all.” the suggestion makes your heat throb but you shake your head incessantly. you can do this.

you look up at him through your wet lashes and he twitches in your dainty hand. “i wanna make you cum for once.” the words tumble out of your swollen lips in a mutter. 

he frowns, hands coming back to your cheeks, only this time, the pads of his thumbs meet the wet, heated skin, brushing away the remainder of your tears.

you might be too good for him. you don’t even know how many times the thought of you alone has gotten nanami off. you don’t know how many cold showers he’s had to take, how much self-control it takes to be around you.

he sighs, squishing your face and forces you to look up at him. “alright, sweetheart, open wide for me, yeah? i’ll guide you.” his hands force you to nod. your heart skips a beat and the kaleidoscope of butterflies swarm wildly in your stomach. 

you oblige almost immediately, parting your lips, ready to (try and) take him again. 

“‘kay, we’re gonna go slow. remember to breathe through your nose– and no teeth.” he instructs and you’re nodding, wrapping your pretty lips around his gorgeous length. “i’ll let you lead, you can move your head down a little more when you’re ready, yeah?”

nanami sharply exhales when he feels the warmth of your mouth. heat spreads through his toned body like a wildfire– you drive him crazy. 

even more crazy when you suddenly remember what you’ve seen in the pornos your friends forced you to watch. you look up at him through your lashes, letting your tongue swipe against the slit of his cock. “fuck, that’s it, sweet girl. use that tongue.”

you don’t know why, but the whispered curse that slips from his plump lips– lips that are raw from the way he can’t stop gnawing at them– has you arching into him. your cunt is begging for friction, so much so that it has you weeping. your eyes and your pussy. 

his praise spurs you on and you push your head down some more. it makes you gag, yes, but you remember what he said, breathing heavily through your nose. you’re already crying and looking back up to see his face contorted in pleasure has you taking him deeper and deeper. you need more of these reactions– you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more, but that could be the need to please clouding your judgment. 

nanami can’t resist the urge to fuck your cute little face when you look at him like that. the tears… the big, wide eyes trying to keep contact with his eyes… the way you look like a complete, utter mess all for him. 

he moves his hands to dig into your hair before pushing you some more. the tip of his cock gets lodged in your tight throat and he loses it when he feels you attempting to swallow around him.

he throws his head back and lets out an echoing moan. “you’re suuuch a good girl. take my cock so well, pretty. ‘m so p-proud of you.” he praises. “so good f’me, aren’t you?” 

you choke, letting the tears fall without an ounce of shame, but you nod with your mouth full of cock. you could care less about the way he’s actively bruising your throat, you’re making him feel good… and that makes you feel good. so good that you’re subtly fucking the air in hopes your boyfriend doesn’t notice.

“yeaaah, you are…” he hums, looking back down at you, taking him like the good girl you are. of course he notices you, he has a keen eye for these things. “aw, look at you. so needy… ‘s sucking me off getting you hot ‘n bothered?”

you whine in agreement, vibrating him to his core. you choke at the words, spluttering all over his cock creating bubbles of saliva at the base. his hands tug on your hair, pulling you off and it leaves you heaving, soft sobs ripping from your throat. 

“tell me, sweetheart. i wanna make sure my girl is always satisfied.” he demands in a somewhat authoritative tone.

“k-ken, don’t care ‘bout that– i-i wan’ you to cum,” you practically beg to have him back in your mouth, but his hands in your hair hold you still. 

he shakes his head, “uh-uh, none of that. go ahead and play with yourself for me, just like i taught you. you remember that, don’t you, my love?” 

he makes your head nod again, his cock throbbing at the sight of your drool covering the entirety of your chin. 

you let out a shaky breath as your hand moves from his muscular thigh to the waistband of your shorts. as you slip inside, your fingers find your desperate clit, rubbing it in circles the way he taught you. “k-ken, pl-please,” you moan.

he shudders, stomach flipping and cock twitching eagerly like he’s some teenager who’s never been touched. “please what, pretty girl?” he asks, his attempts to mask his neediness were vain and it was starting to show. 

“please, fuck my face, kento. ple–” your words are muffled by nanami shoving his cock back into your mouth. 

he lets his composure fly out the window, the guttural groan he’s been keeping down comes out loud– loud enough to make your eyes widen. “g-god, sweetheart– you’re… you’re gonna drive me–” he pushes your head down, squeezing his eyes shut as you swallow around him again. “insane. fuck, you’re so good, so good for me– fuck, baby, you’re making me feel so good.” 

nanami knows he’ll probably regret rambling like this later, but, unbeknownst to him, it has you rubbing your clit like your life depends on it. messy circles over the unduly sensitive bud while he thrusts into your mouth with just as much vigor. 

you gag and gag and the only thing it does is make nanami whine. he will definitely hate himself later for losing his self control, but right now? he’s madly in love with you and he’s showing it by giving you exactly what you want. pounding his cock into your mouth, using your face just like you asked. 

your eyes roll and brows furrow in ecstasy, the now-familiar knot in your tummy forms with zeal. 

“sweetheart– ugh, forgive me.” he moans, voice cracking handsomely. “fuck, baby. ‘m gonna cum– y-you’re making it so hard to hold back.” 

why would you want him to? that’s the exact opposite of what you want. you try to relay that by snaking your free hand to the back of his thigh and pulling him towards you. 

he hears your actions loud and clear and, before you know it, you feel the ribbons of seed painting your throat as his cock twitches uncontrollably. 

the groans that leave his mouth are sinful. you’ve never heard him sound like this in the entirety of your time together— so unhinged and feral. you find that what’s coming out of his mouth might be your favorite sound ever and it’s definitely become your favorite side of him. the side of nanami where he’s the complete opposite of his otherworldly, chivalrous self. the gentleman you’ve grown to know and love is a hungry, filthy, masked freak and you fear that you’ve just released a beast upon you. not that you mind in the slightest. the thought only excites you further.

“god, you’re such a good fucking girl,” he says through gritted teeth. “so pretty and perfect, all for me. my good girl.” 

your fingers work faster at the praise and your muffled whimpers grow louder. all the while, your mouth overflows with his heavy load and you feel it beginning to leak from the corners of your lips. 

once nanami notices, he pulls himself out of your mouth and you cough, choking over the exorbitant amounts of cum in attempts to swallow all of it. 

“k-ken,” you heave, your voice hoarse. your fingers are still rubbing at your clit, uncoordinated, yet it’s getting the job done. “did i do okay?” 

nanami’s still coming down from his mind blowing orgasm, chest huffing and puffing, but when he hears you seeking validation, he’s on his knees before you in an instant. 

his hand slips in your panties and finds yours, your nimble fingers toying with your bud. 

“so well. now c’mere,” he mutters. his fingers guide yours— he’s simply moving yours for you— and his other hand comes to cup your cheek. hungry for a taste, he slams his lips against yours, tongue invading your mouth despite the fact that he just came in it. 

his fingers move yours faster and faster and you don’t even realize he’s pushing yours aside to take over. 

you’re so weak when it comes to him. with him tonguing your mouth and his fingers working you, it’s no wonder you're coming undone in less than a minute.

you moan a mantra of his name into his, your body going taut as the knot in your tummy unravels. 

he lets you ride it out, playing with your cunt till your shaky hands wrap around his wrist and you pull his hand away. 

he moves his lips to your cheek, trailing wet pecks all the way to your ear. he whispers in your ear, tugging on the lobe with his teeth.

“i might be addicted to your pretty little mouth, sweetheart.”

© all works belong to SLUTURU 2025. do not copy or repost.

[nanaminxs]

Knight!Jason Todd who’s head over heels for his princess, though it is forbidden for a lowly knight like him to yearn for something as sweet and gentle as you.

Knight!Jason Todd who can’t keep his hands off you when you ask him to accompany you in the village. It can be a hand on the small of your back, or waist. It doesn’t matter. He’s just constantly touching you.

Knight!Jason Todd who gets angry when you tell him your father is arranging a marriage for you and another prince. Who isn’t worthy of you at all.

Knight!Jason Todd who sneaks into your chambers that night, confessing in the most nastiest way to you.

You knew if your father ever found out your knight was balls deep inside of you he’d have his head on a stick outside of your window.

His breath is muffled from the way his teeth sunk into your shoulder, peppering kisses to soothe the burn. “He doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t burn for you. Not like I do.”

You cling onto him, careful to keep your moans in. The last thing you want is someone walking in on you getting your guts rearranged.

“I do not have a c-choice—hah Jason!” Your gummy walls flutter around him, gripping him like a vice, Jason feels like he’s going mad.

“Run away with me. Dunno’ where we might end up, but I’ll keep you..fuck..safe. Promise.” His thumb rubs tight circles against your clit, lips meeting yours in an attempt to silence himself as he dumps a load into you.

I don’t think Jason will be too thrilled to know Dick Grayson is set to marry you.

[r1kixss]

cold touch

warnings: p in v, eating coochie, cursing, riki is a vampire and reader is a human, twilight inspired smut, virginity loss, slight angst

recommended song: Rosyln by Bon Iver, St. Vincent

The air was crispy cold, fog thickly covered the entire village. The moon was peeking over the huge trees of the forest, it looked so beautiful.

Like him.

Your boyfriend was dragging you through the forest, holding your hand gently as he took you somewhere.

You didn't protest, just breathing in the fresh air and looking around. Finally, you saw a pretty cottage house that he was taking you to.

"Whose house is that?" You broke the comfortable silence finally. "Mine." He said softly, taking out a key and opening the front door. He let you in first and you looked around with a smile. It was so homey.

"Why did you bring me here though?" You looked up at him, his golden eyes gazing into yours.

"I thought you'll like it. You always said you want to live in a house like that." A smile formed on your lips.

He showed you around, then he took you to the bedroom. A big, wooden-four poster bed was in the middle of the room, right in front of a big window.

The thick, dark green forest bathing in fog, droplets of rain falling on the window. You stared in awe, admiring the absolutely gorgeous view.

"Is it pretty?" He asked softly and you nodded.

"Really pretty." You murmured, turning to him and wrapping your arms around his waist for a hug.

You looked at the bed again. "What do you need a bed for? Vampires don't sleep..." You murmured, looking up at him.

He smiled a little and looked away. "It's not for sleeping, Y/N." You processed it for a second before your cheeks flushed pink and you looked down in embarrassment. He chuckled, patting your head affectionately.

You partly knew why he brought you here, you just weren't fully sure.

His family house was filled with people and there was absolutely zero privacy there, given that his vampire family members have absolutely insane hearing.

He heard your heart pounding a bit faster and smirked. His strong arms picked you up slowly, gently as if you were made of porcelain.

Your back hit the plush sheets slowly and he got on top of you. He was shaking.

Even though he wanted it so bad, the fear still lingered in the back of his head and never wanted to go. His own strength scared him. Really scared him.

He wanted to touch you without worrying, without being absolutely terrified of giving you bruises or breaking something in you.

You knew he was hesitating. You could feel it, see it. He was hesitating for 8 months already.

"I'll be okay, i promise." you whispered softly, looking into his pretty golden eyes. He looked away, licking his lips nervously.

"It's still... scary, you know?" he murmured, looking down at your lips then back up in your eyes.

"I know but i trust you. I know you won't hurt me."

He sighed, swallowing thickly as if he had something stuck in his throat. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your neck, then another and another.

His hands rested on your waist, lingering for a moment before trailing under your shirt to your breasts and squeezing them. You shivered as his cold fingers brushed against your skin, and a quiet gasp escaped you. He flinched, pulling back slightly as though he had forgotten how cold he was. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of guilt and yearning.

"I'm sorry for how cold I am," he whispered, his voice unsteady. "But you still hold me... as if your warmth could chase it all away." his words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, as tears welled in his eyes.

"Because i love you. No matter how cold you are I'll always be close to you." you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his big, rosy lips. He smiled, looking away as a tear rolled down his cheek. His cold touch never pushed you away.

He buried his face in your neck to kiss you there before you could catch him being emotional and vulnerable. It was so embarrassing to him.

Clothes started falling one by one somewhere on the bed, gasps and soft moans filling the room. He kissed down your torso until he reached your panties and he stopped, looking up at you.

"Can i?" he whispered and you immediately nodded.

His shaky fingers hooked over your panties and he pulled them down swiftly. He spread your legs, leaning down to kiss your inner thighs, then finally after teasing you and getting you soaking wet, he went for your clit.

You moan quietly, back arching as your hands held his hair firmly in a fist. "Oh my god..." You whispered, your thighs slightly closing over his head. It felt so good, his tongue absolutely abusing the small bundle of nerves.

He pulled away before you could cum and a disapproving whimper left your lips.

"Be patient." he said softly as he took off his shirt slowly, letting you admire his body.

God he was so beautiful. His pale skin, his muscular arms, his pretty sharp eyes... and he was all yours.

He took a condom out of his pocket and put it on the bed next to you, then took off his pants.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his fingers hooked on the elastic of his boxers "Yes..." you swallowed nervously. "please..."

He took off his boxers, his hard dick smacking softly against his abdomen. You looked down and gulped in surprise at how big it was.

You were nervous, but he was so gentle with you that it was hard to overthink it. He slipped the condom on and got between your legs, his hands were shaking so bad.

"Are you sure?" He asked once again, his eyes looked into yours, searching for the slightest bit of change in your demeanor.

"Yes, i promise." You said softly, cupping his face and kissing him.

He kissed you back and pulled away, slowly, so slowly sliding inside you. He sighed against your lips as his dick entered you, it was so warm and wet.

He wished he could be warm again.

A soft whimper left your mouth, brows scrunching up in a furrow at the slight sting you felt as he stretched you "Hurts?" he whispered.

"A little..." You whispered back, noticing how huge his pupils were, blown wide like he was on drugs. You were his drug.

He was taking his time, trying to be as gentle as possible, to not hurt you and paint your body with bruises on accident.

When he finally bottomed out, you nodded and he started thrusting. A moan left your lips and he moaned back, his abs clenching at the pleasure.

"You feel so good..." He whispered into your ear, his hands digging into the pillows as he held himself up on top of you. Butterflies pooled in your tummy at his words.

When he knew you weren't hurting anymore, he started to speed up the pace. Gradually going faster, until you were a moaning mess. He tried so hard to not lose control and hurt you.

He grabbed the bed frame hard, so hard the wood crumbled in his palm and the beams of the canopy bed broke, falling.

He froze, looking at you with widened eyes as if he expected you to realize the monster he was. "It's okay." you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug.

His jaw clenched hard and he continued, but more timidly now. He felt hot tears in his eyes.

He wished he could be normal again.

"I love you..." You said softly into his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek, landing on your neck.

He sighed shakily "I love you too" he murmured, squeezing a pillow so hard it ripped, but he didn't pay attention to it.

You moaned when he hit that spot inside you, your nails dragging down his back as pleasure consumed you.

It didn't take long for you to cum, whimpering and clinging to him desperately as he fucked you through your orgasm, and he was cumming right after you.

He ripped another pillow he was aggressively crumbling in his fist, feathers dancing around you both.

Both of you stayed like this for a while, him still inside you. He didn't want to leave your warmth. It felt like home; you were his only comfort, only warmth he had left.

After a few minutes of just calming down, trying to breathe normally again, he pulled out. He threw the condom away and pulled you under the covers, cuddling to you. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep.

He wished he could sleep. To wake up next to you, to feel tired after a long night with you.

They didn't kill for having dreams fortunately.

He looked around the room. Broken headboard, ripped pillows, feathers everywhere, the beams of the canopy barely hanging on the last pieces of wood.

God, he was breaking everything. He didn't break you though, and now you were his mate. The thought pushed a small smile on his lips.

You accepted him as he is, no matter how much of a monster he thought he was.

[puck-luck]

Hi, girly. I hope I find you fine.

I'd like to make a request with Quinn. Could you write something where reader is feeling down, like after a day of dealing with friends/family drama and she is just drained, plus they are at the lake house and yk all the boys are there but she doesn't feel like having dinner or hanging out with them, she just wants to cuddle and recharge and Q just excuses himself to be with her and hopefully makes her feel better.

Thank you so much 💓

warnings: cockwarming. that's IT. other than that, it's just domestic bliss.

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 1,229

note: thank you @skylershines for requesting this! sorry it took me a while to finish :,) this ask wasn't inherently sexual, but since i am a smut writer, i had to throw in a sexual element or two. i am not THE fluff girl on tumblr dot com LOL but love you girly

The boys are downstairs making a ruckus about something. You’re starting to wonder if they ever tire themselves out, or if they’re always full of energy like this. The day has been long and chock-full of activities and you’re… rather exhausted.

Maybe it’s because of all the sun you soaked up on the boat that’s making you sleepy. Maybe it’s the swimming you did or the wine with the big, filling, home-cooked meal that Quinn made. Maybe it’s from the flight from Vancouver to Michigan two days ago that’s making you so tired. Maybe it’s the knowledge that you’re working from home– Quinn’s home– tomorrow and you can’t dedicate all your time to the fun happenings in the vacation home.

All in all, you don’t know what the root of your exhaustion is, but you know that there’s no way you want to leave this bed again today. You’re due for a good rot. You’ve got a book in hand and you’re all tucked in beneath the covers and the fact that it’s only 7:30pm doesn’t matter to you one bit. The sun hasn’t even started to set, but here you are, ready for bed.

Between the lines in your book, you can piece together what the boys are talking about downstairs. Trevor wants a bonfire. Jack and Luke want to go wakesurfing. Alex doesn’t care, but he wants someone to make a decision. Cole wants to stay in and play ping pong. You’re secretly hoping that the fact that you can’t really hear your boyfriend arguing with his brothers and friends means that he’ll be coming upstairs to join you soon.

It isn’t long before you hear feetsteps padding up the stairs and making their way towards the bedroom you share with Quinn. You continue reading, paying no mind to the man entering the room, but there’s a hint of a smile on your face. 

“Hey,” Quinn greets in a low, relaxed tone. He kisses the top of your head, hovering by your side of the bed. “The boys want to do something. Are you up for it?”

Not really. “What do they want to do?” you ask, not sure if they’d come to an agreement by the time Quinn joined you upstairs. You don’t really want to join the boys, but you don’t want to seem like a spoilsport during your first trip to the lakehouse. Being a recluse won’t get you any favors, no matter how much Quinn likes you. You might be able to go downstairs and sit by a bonfire or watch from the couch while the boys play ping pong. Sitting on the boat wouldn’t be that bad, but you’d have to change out of your pajamas (a cute little slip that you packed just for Quinn). You also know that “one hour on the boat” never actually means one hour on the boat. It always stretches into two or three. So, really, you’d rather stay in.

“Thinking about going out on the boat,” Quinn replies, because you’re really not that lucky when it comes down to it.

Again, you’re faced with a dilemma: you can go with them and feel tired and cranky or you can stay here and feel like you’re not being a good girlfriend by joining the group. There’s not really a good option. At least in this bed, you’ll be warm.

“I kind of just want to stay in bed, if that’s okay,” you tell Quinn with a small shrug. “But I don’t want them to think that I’m boring or anything. I’m just tired.”

Quinn lets out a laugh. “They don’t think you’re boring. Are you okay, though? I know your ‘just tired’ can mean something else sometimes.”

He’s so sweet. You’ve been with Quinn less than a year, but he’s still managed to note your idiosyncrasies and moods perfectly. “I’m okay, sweet boy.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

A wave of affection passes through you. “Do what you want, Q. You choose. I won’t say no to cuddling you all night, but don’t stay on my account.”

“Just let me tell the guys to go without me,” Quinn replies. He leans down and meets your lips. “Then I’ll be back.”

He departs, but his return is quick. He brings his own book and gets into his pajamas– nothing but his boxer shorts– before joining you under the covers. Quinn throws an arm over your shoulders and opens his book, settling in.

You read together in silence for a little while. You start to get bored and allow yourself two more chapters– after checking to see just how long those chapters were, six and eight pages respectively– before you close your book and set it on the nightstand. You slide down the bed a bit, wrapping your arm around Quinn’s waist and squishing your cheek against his chest. 

Quinn rubs your arm. “Sleepy, babe?” he asks.

You hum, turning your face into his bare skin and planting a kiss there. “You’re warm.”

Quinn breathes out a laugh. He pulls you closer; you’re practically on his lap now. You might as well finish the job and get comfortable, so you straddle Quinn and bury your face in his neck, kissing the skin there. Quinn brings his hand to your back and runs his fingers up and down the expanse of it in soothing motions. 

It tickles at first, making you squirm. After a minute or so, you relax into the touch– and a few minutes after that, you find yourself grinding down against Quinn’s rapidly-filling cock.

“Quinn,” you murmur in his ear. You pull back and meet his eyes, trying to convey what you want with just a look. 

You don’t want much. You’re still tired and drained from the day, completely washed out from the swimming and boating and sunbathing you’d been thinking of earlier. All you want is to have Quinn close.

“Yeah,” he replies with a nod. He sets his book aside and encourages you to kneel up just enough that he can slide the waistband of his boxers down and free his cock. 

Greedily, you try to grind against his shaft as soon as it’s free, but Quinn halts you with a soft touch from his free hand. 

He fists the base of his cock and pulls the crotch of your panties to the side, using the pads of his deft fingers to spread your folds. His eyes are hooded and loving as his tip breaches your hole, and he starts to smile when you sink down and settle against him. 

“Oh,” you breathe out once you take him fully, clenching down and loosening your grip on his cock a few times before melting into Quinn. 

“Sweet girl,” Quinn praises in the tone that’s just for you. He plants his hands on your hips and kisses your lips.

Neither of you make an effort to move. In fact, you find yourself growing very drowsy in Quinn’s comforting arms. His distinct, tender touch has your head lulling forward, falling against his shoulder. Quinn breathes deeply and you follow, matching him. The smell of his bodywash fills your nose and you close your eyes, taking another breath.

It’s not inherently sexual, having Quinn’s cock inside you and his lips on your skin. It is, however, exactly what you needed after such an exhausting day.

[sayangrafayel]

LADS react to you recovering from an Eating Disorder.

This was not an easy request but I got two (2) requests regarding this. At first I was too scared to touch on this subject but if my writing could help at least one person, I realized my fear shouldn't be in the way of that. So here, this one is dedicated to those who need it. You are beautiful as you are strong. And I hope this little piece can help you even if it's just a tiny bit.

Content warning: Eating Disorder, recovering from it, dealing with it. It's fluff and comfort.

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb.

Sylus

It hurts him as much as it hurts you, but he never said a word about it. Not when you're clearly trying to recover.

Crow family eating every meal together, all five of them. They never force you nor do they stare at you, never complain about how much food left in your plate. You guys just sit around the table, absentmindedly talking about your days.

And you appreciate them. More than they know.

Xavier

As hard as it is on him, he knows it's harder on you.

He's your partner, he's with you 100%. He tries so hard every meal time to cook something you'd love. His food tastes.. wrong sometimes, but you swear you can taste every love and effort he put in it.

He reads every. single. book. or. article. about it.

He fell asleep holding his ipad and you can clearly see "How to help your partner with ED?" "Eating Disorders and Romantic Relationships" "How To Support a Loved One in ED Treatment"

Rafayel

He never. Never once. Commented on your physical appearance other than your face. Not because he doesn't like your body, but because he knows it could be triggering sometimes.

He never judged you if you slip up or go back to your old habit. He's always supportive of you, trusting you to make the right call, even if it hurts him sometimes.

He's always so proud every time you told him you ate a snack or finished your meal!

Zayne

Even if he's your primary care physician and knows every little detail on why you should do this and do that, he never once pressure you into doing them.

He would tell you kindly, more like a little reminder, but he knows not to push too much.

He wants you to recover, not for him, but for you.

All in all, he treats you normally.. and it makes you feel comfortable.

Caleb

Like Sylus (and honestly all the boys), he sits down with you every meal time or every time you guys eat. Be it at a normal breakfast-lunch-dinner time or a random 3am-sitting-on-the-kitchen-floor-snacking.

Had to accept that this is the one thing that is entirely out of his control, he knows if he pushed too hard it could end up harming your relationship.

You can text him or tell him at any time of the day "Caleb.. I think I'm craving-" "What? I will cook it for you!" "Caleb's famous braised pork, please!!!"

It doesn't matter how hard or how long the dish takes to make, oh he's gonna cook it for you.

[anticipatedexhale]

Jealousy jealousy~~

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨୧

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi, sevika, ekko

☆ ◞ summary: when they get jealous at someone trying to make a move at you.

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. Fluff kinda angst idk

Jayce Talis.

The night had started out normal enough. A quick stop at a Piltover lounge, a few drinks, good company—it was supposed to be relaxing. Jayce had been looking forward to it all week, especially since he finally got to spend time with you outside of work.

And then he showed up.

Some random, smooth-talking socialite, flashing a charming smile and leaning just a little too close to you at the bar. Jayce had been mid-sip of his drink when he first noticed it—the way the guy’s hand subtly brushed against yours as he laughed at something you said.

Jayce didn’t consider himself a jealous person. He really didn’t.

But he also didn’t like the way this guy was looking at you.

At first, he tried to play it cool, sipping his drink, pretending not to pay attention. You were perfectly capable of handling yourself, and it wasn’t like Jayce had any claim over you.

Except… maybe he wanted one.

His grip tightened around his glass as he watched the guy lean in again, this time saying something low and smooth. You chuckled—polite, but dismissive. Jayce knew that laugh. It was the one you used when you were humoring someone you had zero interest in.

Still, the guy wasn’t getting the message.

Alright. That was enough.

Jayce pushed off his seat and strode toward you, placing a casual—but firm—hand on your lower back as he slid beside you. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, his voice deliberately warm. “Sorry I took so long. Did I miss anything?”

You blinked up at him, immediately catching on. “Oh, not much. Just some small talk.”

The guy’s smile faltered slightly as he glanced between you and Jayce. “And you are…?”

Jayce grinned, though there was something unmistakably sharp beneath it. “Jayce Talis.” He extended his hand, his grip just a little too firm when the guy shook it. “And you?”

The guy shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, just a friend.”

Jayce’s grin widened. “Oh, just a friend?” His hand on your back subtly pulled you a fraction closer. “That’s funny. See, I thought you were hitting on my partner.”

You choked slightly, eyes widening as Jayce looked at the guy with a perfectly polite expression—like he hadn’t just dropped that word so casually.

The guy’s confidence wavered, and he let out an awkward chuckle. “Oh, no offense, man. Didn’t realize.”

Jayce’s smile stayed in place, but his eyes gleamed with something dangerously smug. “Yeah? You do now.”

The guy mumbled some excuse and quickly retreated, disappearing into the crowd.

As soon as he was gone, you turned to Jayce with an amused smirk. “Partner, huh?”

Jayce coughed into his drink. “I panicked.”

You raised a brow. “Seemed pretty smooth for a panic move.”

“…Okay, maybe not panicked exactly.” He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

You tilted your head, enjoying watching him squirm. “Jealous?”

Jayce scoffed. “What? Me? Nooo.” Then, after a pause, he sighed, rubbing his face. “Okay, maybe a little.”

You grinned, reaching up to straighten the lapel of his coat. “You’re cute when you get possessive.”

Jayce groaned. “Great. Now you’re never gonna let me live this down, huh?”

“Nope.”

But even as you teased him, Jayce couldn’t help the satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. Because you were still here—with him. And that’s all that really mattered.

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

Mel Medarda.

Mel Medarda was not the type to get jealous.

She was confident, poised, and completely in control at all times. If someone wanted to flirt with you in front of her, well—let them. She knew where you would be going home at the end of the night.

That being said… she did have her limits.

The evening had been going smoothly—an elegant Piltover gala, golden lights reflecting off the crystal chandeliers, the air buzzing with soft music and hushed conversations. You had accompanied Mel as her guest, and while she was busy entertaining council members and diplomats, you had wandered to the refreshment table.

That’s when he appeared.

Some overly ambitious noble, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He was all charm and slick words, flashing you a practiced smile as he poured you a glass of wine, his hand lingering a bit too long as he passed it to you.

Mel had been watching from across the room, her expression unreadable as she sipped her champagne.

She gave him a chance. One.

And then she saw it—the way his fingers barely grazed your wrist as he leaned in, whispering something undoubtedly bold.

Mel hummed, swirling her glass lightly before making her move.

With effortless grace, she glided through the room, her golden gown shimmering under the chandeliers. By the time she reached you, her presence was undeniable—the noble stiffened slightly as she placed a hand lightly on your arm, her touch as soft as silk.

"Darling," she purred, her voice smooth as honey, "I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."

Your eyes flickered with amusement as you caught the subtle edge beneath her words. You weren’t sure whether to be impressed or nervous for the poor fool beside you.

The noble, to his credit, tried to play it cool. "Ah, Councilor Medarda. I was just getting to know your lovely companion."

Mel smiled—slow, dangerous. "Were you?"

There was no sharpness in her tone, no outright hostility. And yet, the noble swallowed thickly, suddenly aware that he had overstepped.

She turned to you, her fingers trailing lightly down your wrist before intertwining with yours. "I do hope they haven't been bothering you," she mused, brushing a stray hair from your face as if the two of you were the only ones in the room.

You smirked. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Mel let out a soft, knowing hum. "Of course not." Then, without another glance at the noble, she gently tugged you away, her grip light yet undeniable.

As you walked off together, you leaned in slightly. "You know, I think you scared him."

Mel arched a brow, amusement dancing in her golden eyes. "Good. He was getting on my nerves."

You chuckled. "Jealous?"

Mel merely smiled, raising your hand to her lips and pressing the softest kiss to your knuckles. "Jealousy is such a petty thing."

But the way her fingers tightened slightly around yours told a different story.

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

Viktor.

Viktor didn’t get jealous—or at least, that’s what he liked to tell himself.

He was logical, rational. Petty emotions like envy were for people who had time to waste. He had work to do—innovations to create, problems to solve.

And yet.

He had been going over blueprints at your shared worktable in the lab, completely immersed in his notes, when he heard it—someone else’s laughter mixed with yours.

His pen stopped mid-scratch.

Looking up, he found you standing by the doorway, engaged in a conversation with some bright-eyed researcher. They were laughing, gesturing animatedly, clearly trying to impress you. And what was worse? You were actually smiling at them.

Viktor felt a twinge in his chest, something unpleasant curling in his gut. He frowned, tapping his pen against the desk. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

But then the researcher leaned in just a little too close, and Viktor’s patience snapped like a frayed wire.

He pushed himself up with his cane, making his way toward you at an unhurried pace. The clack of his cane against the floor was rhythmic, steady—an unmistakable presence approaching.

The researcher caught sight of him and faltered slightly. “Oh—Viktor! I was just talking to—”

“Yes, I noticed.” Viktor’s tone was light, almost pleasant, but there was an unmistakable sharpness beneath it. His golden eyes flickered between you and the researcher before landing on you entirely, his focus unwavering. “You’ve been gone quite a while. I was beginning to wonder if I had lost my most valuable assistant.”

You raised a brow at his pointed wording, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Didn’t realize you were keeping track of my time, Vik.”

Viktor tilted his head slightly, his gaze assessing. “I keep track of all important things.”

You felt warmth rise to your cheeks at the way he said it—so matter-of-fact, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

The researcher, now clearly uncomfortable, cleared their throat. “Well, I should—um—get back to work.” And with that, they all but scurried away.

The moment they were gone, you turned to Viktor, arms crossed. “That was subtle.”

Viktor sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Ah, my deepest apologies. I had no idea my mere presence would cause such a reaction.”

You chuckled. “So, are you going to admit you were jealous, or should I just assume?”

Viktor scoffed, but there was the faintest hint of pink dusting his cheeks. “Jealousy is irrational. I was simply…” He searched for the right words, tapping his cane idly against the floor. “…reminding them of their place.”

You grinned. “And my place is?”

Viktor leaned in slightly, his voice lower, softer. “Right here. With me.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

For someone who claimed not to get jealous, he certainly had a way of making it very clear.

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

Caitlyn.

Caitlyn Kiramman was not the type to get openly jealous. She prided herself on her composure, her ability to remain level-headed even in high-pressure situations.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t feel it.

You had been at a local café in Piltover, waiting for Caitlyn to finish up her rounds so the two of you could grab lunch together. While you were minding your own business, some overconfident merchant had slid into the seat across from you, flashing you a way too eager grin.

Caitlyn spotted it the moment she stepped onto the street.

At first, she hesitated, watching from a short distance. She wanted to trust you to handle it—but then the merchant leaned in, their hand brushing against yours on the table, and Caitlyn felt a prickle of irritation rise in her chest.

Alright. That was enough.

With long, purposeful strides, she approached the table, her blue eyes cool and calculating. “Excuse me,” she said smoothly, her voice polite but firm.

Both you and the merchant turned toward her. You instantly perked up. “Cait! There you are.”

The merchant, however, didn’t seem to take the hint. “Ah, and who might you be?”

Caitlyn’s smile was razor-sharp as she placed a gloved hand on the back of your chair, her presence undeniable. “Captain Caitlyn Kiramman of the Piltover Enforcers,” she replied smoothly. “And the person they’ve been waiting for.”

That got the merchant to stiffen slightly. “Oh—my apologies, I didn’t realize…”

Caitlyn arched a brow. “Didn’t realize what? That they were already spoken for?” She leaned in slightly, tilting her head. “Or that you were wasting your time?”

The merchant let out an awkward chuckle, making some excuse before quickly retreating.

Once they were gone, you turned to Caitlyn with an amused smirk. “That was almost scary.”

Caitlyn huffed, finally slipping into the seat across from you. “I simply dislike people who overstep boundaries.”

You leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

Caitlyn scoffed, lifting her tea to her lips. “I have nothing to be jealous of.”

“Really?” You grinned. “Because that looked a lot like jealousy.”

Caitlyn gave you an unimpressed look, but the faint pink at the tips of her ears gave her away.

You chuckled, reaching across the table to brush your fingers against hers. “You could’ve just told them I was yours, you know.”

Caitlyn exhaled softly, her expression finally softening. “I didn’t think I needed to.”

Your heart fluttered at the undeniable certainty in her voice.

Because, jealous or not—she knew exactly where you belonged.

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

Vi.

Vi wasn’t the type to subtly get jealous. If she was annoyed, you knew it.

And right now? She was definitely annoyed.

You were both at Jericho’s bar, just grabbing drinks and unwinding after a long week. Vi had left your side for two minutes—just to talk to the bartender about another round—when she turned back and saw some cocky Zaunite leaning way too close to you.

Her eyes narrowed.

At first, she just watched, arms crossed, observing how the guy was grinning at you, clearly testing his luck. He was laying it on thick, too, his hand resting on the bar near yours, body language screaming overconfidence.

Vi cracked her knuckles.

Taking her time, she sauntered back over, sliding onto the stool beside you and draping an arm over your shoulders in one smooth motion. “Hey, babe,” she said casually, ignoring the guy entirely as she leaned in, pressing a kiss against your temple.

You blinked up at her, amused. “Vi?”

She hummed, finally turning her attention to the guy. “And who are you?”

The man, now clearly realizing who he had just been flirting with, hesitated. “Uh—just talking to your friend here.”

Vi’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly. “Yeah? Looked like you were talking to my partner.” Her voice was deceptively light, but there was an unmistakable warning beneath it.

The guy held his hands up, chuckling nervously. “Didn’t know they were taken.”

Vi arched a brow. “Well, you do now.”

The guy muttered a quick apology and made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowd.

Once he was gone, you smirked, tilting your head toward Vi. “That was subtle.”

Vi scoffed, picking up her drink. “Please. If I really wanted to make a scene, he wouldn’t have walked out of here with both legs working.”

You chuckled, leaning against her. “So… jealous?”

Vi huffed, taking a sip of her drink before muttering, “Whatever.”

You grinned, nudging her side. “You so were.”

Vi sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “Alright, fine. Maybe a little. But can you blame me?” She leaned in, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip. “You are kinda irresistible.”

Your breath hitched slightly, and Vi grinned, clearly pleased with herself.

“Now,” she said, finishing her drink, “how about we really make it obvious who you belong to?”

The playful challenge in her voice sent a shiver down your spine.

Yeah. Vi might not do subtle jealousy—but you weren’t complaining.

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

Jinx.

Jinx wasn’t just jealous—she was possessive.

She didn’t do subtle. If someone was getting too close to you, you bet she was gonna make a scene about it.

It started when the two of you were wandering around Zaun, just minding your business when some overly confident guy swaggered up to you, flashing a grin that instantly irritated Jinx.

She didn’t immediately do anything, though. No, she wanted to see just how far this guy would push his luck. So she crossed her arms, leaned against a nearby crate, and watched.

And, oh boy, was this guy an idiot.

“Didn’t think I’d run into someone as good-looking as you in a place like this,” he purred, clearly thinking he was smooth.

Jinx’s fingers twitched.

You, clearly aware of the tension building beside you, gave an awkward chuckle. “Uh, thanks?”

The guy actually reached out, fingers just about to brush against your arm—

—and then BANG.

A single gunshot blasted the air, a bullet embedding itself right next to the guy’s hand on the wall.

You didn’t even flinch. But the guy? He jumped, whirling around to see Jinx casually twirling Fishbones in her hands, a manic grin stretched across her face.

“Oops,” she sing-songed, rocking on her heels. “My hand slipped.”

The guy paled. “What the hell—”

Jinx tilted her head. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. Go on. Keep flirting. See what happens.”

He took one look at the absolute delight in her eyes—at how she was clearly enjoying this—and bolted.

Jinx cackled as he disappeared down the alley. “Coward!”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Jinx, really?”

She huffed, marching up to you and slinging an arm around your shoulders. “What? You’d rather I let that slimeball run his mouth?”

“I could’ve handled it,” you teased, leaning into her.

Jinx squinted at you, poking your cheek. “Yeah, yeah. But I wanted to handle it.”

You smirked. “Jealous?”

Jinx gasped dramatically. “Me? Jealous?” She clutched her chest. “Pffft, please. I just really like scaring people.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Mhm, sure.”

Jinx pouted before pulling you into a sudden, tight hug, her voice muffled against your neck. “Mine,” she mumbled.

Your heart skipped

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

Sevika.

So when she saw some cocky guy chatting you up at the bar—leaning a little too close, looking a little too comfortable—she didn’t immediately react. She just leaned back in her seat, swirling her drink, watching.

Jealousy was for insecure people. For weak people. She was neither.

You weren’t encouraging it, but you were being polite, nodding along as the guy kept talking. That annoyed her.

He was still talking? Still standing there?

Sevika sighed, rolling her shoulders before finally deciding she had enough.

She pushed off the bar with her metal arm, the heavy clank of it hitting the counter making the guy flinch before she even reached you.

“Hey,” she drawled as she slid up behind you, pressing just close enough to make a statement. Her voice was casual, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. “Didn’t realize we were making new friends tonight.”

The guy blinked, looking up at her—then immediately went pale when he realized who she was.

Sevika tilted her head, taking a slow drag of her cigar. “Something wrong?”

The guy took one last look at her—the sharp set of her jaw, the glow of her mechanical arm, the way she was clearly daring him to keep talking—before quickly muttering something about needing to be somewhere else and scurrying off.

Sevika exhaled a slow stream of smoke before looking down at you. “You just let anyone talk to you, huh?”

You smirked, leaning against the bar. “You jealous?”

She scoffed. “Please.”

You raised a brow. “Mhm. So you just casually felt like intimidating some random guy for no reason?”

Sevika rolled her eyes, taking another slow sip of her drink. “I don’t like interruptions.”

You chuckled, nudging her. “Right. Definitely not jealousy.”

She sighed, shaking her head before resting her metal arm against the bar beside you, effectively boxing you in. She leaned down just slightly, her voice lower now.

“You wanna test me?”

Your breath hitched.

Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Thought so.”

She didn’t say she was jealous.

But the way she made it very clear who you belonged to? Yeah. That said enough.

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

Ekko.

Ekko wasn’t the type to immediately get jealous. He was pretty secure in himself and in your relationship. But that didn’t mean he was oblivious.

So when some guy at the Last Drop started flirting with you, he didn’t overreact. At first.

He had been talking to some of the Firelights, keeping an eye on you from across the room, when he noticed the guy leaning in a little too close. At first, Ekko just sighed, shaking his head. He figured you’d shut it down.

But then the guy touched your arm.

And suddenly, Ekko wasn’t feeling so chill anymore.

Taking a slow breath, he rolled his shoulders before pushing off the wall, walking toward you with the effortless confidence that only he could pull off.

The guy was still chatting you up, completely unaware as Ekko slid in behind you, looping an arm around your waist before leaning close, his lips brushing your ear.

“Hey, beautiful,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

You blinked in surprise, glancing up at him. “Ekko?”

He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before looking at the guy in front of you. His usual laid-back demeanor was still there, but there was a new sharpness in his gaze.

“Who’s your friend?” Ekko asked, his voice smooth but unmistakably pointed.

The guy hesitated, clearly unsure how to react. “Uh, just—just talking.”

Ekko hummed, tilting his head. “Yeah? Funny, ‘cause my partner doesn’t really need company.”

The guy opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly second-guessing whether it was worth pushing his luck.

Ekko smirked, his grip on your waist just barely tightening. “You good, man? ‘Cause you’re looking a little nervous.”

The guy quickly muttered something about needing to leave and disappeared into the crowd.

Ekko exhaled through his nose, watching until the guy was definitely gone before turning back to you.

You crossed your arms, amused. “Jealous?”

He scoffed. “Me? Nah. Just don’t like watching idiots waste your time.”

You smirked, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Mhm. Sure.”

Ekko sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Okay, maybe a little.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’s cute.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let it go to your head.”

[navybrat817]

Mr. And Mrs. Barnes. Are they ever worried about being apart from each other?

It gets to them from time to time, nonnie.

Hurry Back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has to leave for a mission, and it feels a bit tougher than usual.

Word Count: Over 1.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, crying, being in love, feels, light angst, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Before Mr. and Mrs. Barnes got married. February has had some lingering January energy, and I hope you enjoy what I was able to write! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You woke up earlier than expected today. You and Bucky were typically up early anyway thanks to work, but he was up well before the sun rose since he had a mission to get ready for. He wanted you to get some more sleep, but you refused. Sleep would come later, and you wanted to be wide awake to see him off.

Helping pack his bag, you paused and brought one of his shirts to your face. Gently inhaling, you smelled the new detergent he recently switched to. You smiled at the memory of him in the store aisle bringing each cap to your nose to smell. When you asked why he was making you smell all of them, he said he wanted to use the one that smelled the most pleasant to you. He had done the same thing with his cologne, and he made sure to get your favorites.

“Smell is one of the closest senses tied to memories,” he said once you were home. “Whenever you smell my cologne and whenever I smell your perfume, we can think of each other.”

“Is that why you like a spritz of my perfume on your pillow?”

“Yeah, baby,” he smiled gently. “I smell it and I know I’m home.”

Setting the shirt in the bag, you grabbed your bottle of perfume and lightly sprayed it over the open bag. With Bucky’s heightened senses, he’d be able to catch the scent when he opened it. You hoped it made him feel like he was home.

Bucky came out of the bathroom just as you set the bottle back, your breath catching when he ran a hand through his wet hair. You wished you had time to drag him back to bed. Not even for sex, but just to hold each other. “You’ll have the alarm set while I’m gone, right?”

“Of course. I have alerts on my phone, too. I’ll be fine,” you assured him.

He barely nodded. You were aware that he didn’t exactly like the idea of you being there by yourself, but you reminded him the night before that you lived alone before the two of you got together. This wasn’t any different. You also understood the worry, and you appreciated that your safety mattered so much to him.

“Thanks for helping me pack,” he said, his voice thicker than usual. There was a noticeable tick in his jaw, too.

You tried to give him your best smile as you smoothed out the sleeves on his black t-shirt. “Nothing to thank me for,” you said, your voice thick, too.

This wasn’t the first time he had to leave for a mission, and it wouldn’t be the last, but today did feel a bit different. Not because of the worry for your safety, but maybe because it was the first time he had to leave since you two moved in together. In the past, you didn’t have to watch him walk out the door, and he didn’t have to look back to say goodbye.

Goodbye wasn’t exactly something you liked to say since it felt too final.

He captured one of your wrists before you could step away and brought your hand to his cheek. Your heart turned over as he nuzzled your palm, his scruff tickling your skin. “I hate this, you know.”

“Hate what?” you asked, tucking a bit of his hair back. You’d have to help trim it again soon. It meant a lot that he trusted you to help cut his hair.

“Having to be apart from you,” he answered after a moment, his eyes searching yours. He looked lost, but only for a moment

“So do I,” you admitted. He was a hero and people needed him, but it didn’t make him leaving any easier. Waiting for him to come back was the worst part. The dusk before dawn. “But it’s just a couple of days, right? And then you’ll be back before you know it.”

He’d be back with you in the comfort of your home where you both belonged.

“Right,” he said, kissing the center of your palm before he inhaled. “You sprayed your perfume.”

“I did,” you confirmed. Your man didn’t miss a thing. “I wanted it to smell like home for you.” Your voice cracked unexpectedly, and you feared breathing another word in case you burst into tears. You needed to keep it together. The last thing Bucky had to deal with before leaving were your tears.

His gaze went soft, and you nuzzled him when he touched your cheek, the same way he nuzzled you. You already missed the feel of his hands on you though he hadn’t left yet. He was going to miss your touch, too. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you whispered.

You knew in your heart you would never love anyone else the way you love Bucky. He was your best friend, your lover, your soulmate, your everything. If you lost him today whether by death or him walking away, you'd never move on from him. The overwhelming intensity and knowledge of that hit you like a freight train, and you couldn't stop the tears from spilling over. Words alone weren't enough to convey what you felt for him, and the deep emotion in your heart had to overflow and come out somehow.

“Baby,” he whispered, his thumbs quickly wiping away the teardrops. Looking into the deep blue of his eyes through your blurry vision, you saw the same overwhelming sense of love reflected in them. “Breaks my heart when you cry. How can I stop it?”

Stay.

But you refused to ask that of him. You could handle a short mission like you had before. You were a big girl.

“I’m fine, and I’m so sorry,” you told him. He had a mission to concentrate on and didn't need to deal with your tears, good or bad. “I swear, I’m not trying to cry. I’m stronger than this.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he stated, his brows pinched like he was trying not to cry himself. “Crying isn't a weakness. It never is.”

You nodded. It was something you said to him once after he had a terrible nightmare, and they weren’t just empty words. Tears were a sign of vulnerability, but also a sign of strength.

“And you’re so strong. You’re one of the strongest people I know,” he added, his mind in tune with yours. It comforted you. “I mean, you have to be strong to put up with me.”

He chuckled when your eyes narrowed. “I do not ‘put up with you’, so don’t say that,” you argued. He was your man, and you loved him. If anything, he put up with you. “You really think I’m strong?”

“I know you are. You may shed a few more tears when I leave and that’s okay if you do as much as it breaks my heart,” he replied, kissing one last tear away. “But I know you’ll pick yourself up, put a smile on your face, and kick the day’s ass like you do every day.”

You laughed a little and turned your face to meet his lips. He saw the best in you, and he brought it out of you. “I’ll do my best. And I know you’ll kick the mission’s ass.”

“And I know you’ll also find me and kick my ass if I don’t hurry back,” he half teased.

“Damn straight,” you smiled, taking a deep breath and slowly pulling out of his grasp when his phone dinged. Steve was probably waiting outside. “So, we’re just a couple of ass kickers, huh? That makes for a good team.”

The two of you were similar in many ways, but also so different, and it created the perfect balance.

“The best team,” he winked, patting his pockets. “Keys, wallet-”

“Still on the nightstand, ready for you to keep them safe and sound on the quinjet,” you said, nodding to where they sat. “And I have your coffee ready in your favorite to-go mug.”

“I’d say ‘what would I do without you?’, but…” He pulled you back to him, his stare robbing you of your breath once again. “I don’t want to ever find out,” he said.

You didn’t want to find out either.

Your heart fluttered when his lips covered yours. He easily coaxed you to open your mouth to his and allowed him to take what you were always willing to give. It wasn’t easy to be the one who had to stay behind, but it had to be harder to be the one who went ahead on the path. He felt alone for so long, but he’d always have the support of his friends. And he’d always have you.

Even if you physically weren’t beside him during a mission, you would be in his heart, mind, and soul.

You heard him swallow when he pressed his forehead to yours. Some days you wondered if it wasn’t just his senses that the serum heightened, but his feelings and sense of self. He fought for and tried to protect Steve before the serum. Did he fight so much for you because he had something to cherish and protect? Did he love more fiercely because of it? Maybe it simply enhanced the man he was and the heart within him.

“I know you’d stay longer if you could, but you shouldn’t keep Steve waiting,” you said.

Bucky reluctantly released you and slipped into mission mode, silently grabbing everything else he needed, including a knife you gifted him with. You couldn't help yourself. The man was proficient with many weapons, but something about a knife… Maybe you could find an outfit for him to cut off once he came home.

Once you helped him put his leather jacket on and handed him his coffee, you snuck in one more kiss. You refused to cry again. “Love you, handsome. Be safe, and hurry back.”

“Love you, beautiful,” he breathed, slipping his dog tags around your neck with his free hand. When had he grabbed those? “Keep those safe ‘til I get back.”

“I will,” you promised.

A weight settled in your chest when he opened the front door. You liked to believe some days that Bucky was invincible, but he was mortal at the end of the day…. Human. He bled; he suffered. But the weight within you lifted when he stopped and looked back at you with a loving smile. He was human, but he endured, he survived.

Bucky Barnes never gave up, and he never would.

Touching the dog tags, you smiled, too. Life was unpredictable, fleeting, and anything could happen when he left, but the love between you was steadfast, everlasting, and you had to believe he’d come home to you. And you’d welcome him back with arms open and the love he deserved.

I hope this month is kind to everyone and that you have love like the way these two love each other. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[theonewhopoops]

Adding my only thought because of the term "cutesy" in regards to the joy sparking: that IS also an important aspect of letting go of the survival mentality. Her idea of whether or not something sparks joy is also made fun of and disrespected, but when you've lived your whole life in poverty - using things you picked up off the sidewalk or by a dumpster, or living off hand-me-downs, or grabbing something from a thrift store that wasn't what you wanted but it will work you guess, or buying something from Walmart or the dollar store because it's the cheapest option you could find, all while living in shitty rented apartments that you don't get to paint or customize or fix or renovate.... it makes life miserable. It makes Stuff about utilitarian necessity and it surrounds you with shit you hate because you NEED it.

When you're surrounded by shitty garbage that you hate, and you have to use things that are cheap or flimsy or they suck or they're ugly, it makes you feel like nothing you do ever makes a difference. It makes you feel like nothing will ever be better because everywhere you turn, something sucks, and no matter how many needs you meet, nothing feels better, and nothing is ever easier. It's hard to care about your space when it feels like nothing is YOURS and nothing MATTERS, and you feel like shit all the time, AND there's SO MUCH OF IT EVERYWHERE!!!

Just the very nature of having things you like in your home is a huge difference. And when you aren't hoarding because you're surviving, you can start picking the items you like and letting the others go. Like, you can finally get rid of the cheap plastic plates and cups that you never really liked using and they all have damage or they smell kinda weird, and instead you keep the handful of nice ceramic plates and you keep the coffee mug that you received as a birthday gift. Things like that. The "does it spark joy" mentality is actually really important when you're trying to rewire your brain out of survival mode, too.

All this being said, I am not disagreeing with OP in any way really, just adding on. Marie Kondo has been memed on and disrespected in a lot of ways by a lot of people, but her guidance and psychological advice around cleaning and decluttering is genuinely spot-on from top to bottom.

you know, the more i think about it, the angrier i get about how mainstream media and even people in general treated marie kondo when the life changing magic of tidying up got big. it's just so unnecessary and sad to me and i think the vast majority of people would love what she has to say if they just actually looked into it instead of maliciously memeing her to death? i'm not talking about the cutesy does it spark joy stuff but all the things portraying her as some bizarre evil cleaning dictator.

i actually read her book when i was about twelve years old, in the most shocking and probably only example of me ever being ahead of a trend, and even at twelve i really loved everything she said. at that point in time i lived in fear of my mother's threats that she would come and throw everything away while i was school, and my small and very adhd mind simply could not grasp the concept of "have less stuff". have less of WHICH stuff? how? i'd never actually been taught how to clean my room besides being told "pick up stuff" and "be organized", and as she points out multiple times, cleaning is not an intuitive thing. it's a learned behavior and skill.

anyways. her entire philosophy centers on surrounding yourself with things that you love, and only things that you love (or things that you absolutely need). she explicitly says over and over again that it is not about throwing things away, it is not about minimalism, it is not about "what is the smallest amount possible that you can survive on". she literally has a whole section where she talks about how hard it can be to throw things away when you've lived in poverty all your life and you don't have absolute confidence that you can replace something that you really needed if it gets thrown out, even though you're not likely to ever really need it--you've just been conditioned to think that because that's literally how you survive, when you're poor. she talks about how that mindset can serve and how it can damage. she talks about how minimalism is sort of a rich people thing, cause they can afford to throw everything away.

this woman really came out here and said "i want you to be surrounded by things you love and i'm going to validate your fears and your difficulties in getting to that place" and people somehow got mad at her. i don't understand it

[kateschi]

explosions in the curtain aisle

synopsis: you and katsuki (after much convincing) are out to buy decorations for your home.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

after spending months merging your lives together as a married couple, you and katsuki are finally taking the plunge to decorate your shared home.

excitement bubbles within you as you navigate the aisles, envisioning how each piece could reflect both of your personalities.

“y/n, how long are we gonna be here?” katsuki complains, arms crossed, his usual fiery demeanor dialed down to a low simmer.

he’s standing a few paces behind you, his foot tapping impatiently on the polished wooden floor.

you turn to him with a playful grin. “just a little longer! we need to find the perfect throw pillow. this is important!”

“important?!” he echoes, incredulity lacing his tone. “they all look the damn same! can’t we just grab one and go? it’s a pillow, not a weapon!”

you laugh, enjoying the banter. “but it has to match the couch! you know how colors work.” you gesture toward a vibrant array of pillows, each one seeming to call your name.

katsuki’s eyes narrow, glancing at the colorful display as if it’s the most boring thing he’s ever seen. “you’re the one with the weird taste in colors. I’m just saying, if it’s ugly, I’m throwing it out the window.”

“fine,” you tease, “but if you pick it out, you have to live with it.”

he huffs, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “whatever. just make it quick, or I’m heading to the snack aisle.”

you roll your eyes, knowing that katsuki can be both impatient and stubborn, but you also understand that this shopping trip means more than just picking out a few decorative items.

it’s about creating a home together, a place filled with memories and laughter, and every detail matters.

after a few more minutes of searching, you finally spot a pillow that catches your eye—a rich teal with a textured pattern that perfectly complements your couch.

you pick it up, turning it this way and that, feeling a surge of happiness. “katsuki, look at this one!”

he strides over, feigning disinterest but unable to hide his curiosity. “let me see.” he takes it from your hands, inspecting it with a critical eye. “not bad, I guess.”

you can’t help but beam at his praise, even if it’s gruff. “you really think so?”

“yeah, but if it clashes with my stuff, it’s going in the trash,” he warns, a smirk creeping onto his face.

“promise!” you laugh, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “I’ll make sure it fits your ‘tough guy’ aesthetic.”

“good,” he replies, but there’s a hint of warmth in his tone. he places the pillow back in your hands and turns to walk away, already scanning for the next item on your list. “now, what’s next? we need some curtains or something.”

you can’t help but feel a rush of affection for him. it’s moments like these—when he pretends to be annoyed yet goes along with your whims—that remind you just how much he cares.

“how about we find some that are a bit more… cozy?” you suggest, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

he snorts, shaking his head. “cozy? what are we, grandmas?”

you roll your eyes, laughing softly. “just wait until you see them. you might actually like them!”

katsuki raises an eyebrow. “yeah, right. but I guess I’ll humor you. lead the way.”

you guide him to the next aisle, the soft rustle of fabric creating a comforting ambiance.

you sift through various curtain styles, holding up a set that features a delicate floral pattern. “what do you think about these?”

katsuki glances at them, his expression unreadable. “they’re… fine, I guess. but are they durable? I’m not having some flimsy stuff that’ll tear the first time I brush against it.”

you chuckle at his practicality, appreciating that he wants your home to feel strong and safe, just like him. “they’re made of durable material. plus, they’ll let in a lot of light.”

he tilts his head, still unsure.

you laugh again. “we can always return them if they don’t work out. and just think of how nice they’ll look with the pillow!”

he pretends to consider it seriously, squinting at the curtains as if they hold the key to world peace. “fine, fine. let’s get them.” he then turns to you with a quick glance, “you will not hang them.”

“oh, I don’t mind,” you giggle, as you lean in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “you will look so good hanging them up in your ‘tough guy’ way, husband.”

katsuki’s lips twitch, and for a moment, you think you can see the tip of his ears turn a soft shade of pink. “shut up,” he mumbles, though there’s no real irritation behind his words.

with the curtains selected and the throw pillow secured, you both meander through the store, stopping occasionally to admire various decorative pieces.

you find a small potted plant and hold it up, grinning. “what about this? it’ll add some life to the space.”

katsuki raises an eyebrow, eyeing the plant. “you think you can keep it alive? remember that one time with that cactus?”

you wince at the memory, laughing sheepishly. “okay, I admit I’m not great with plants. but this one seems low-maintenance!”

“yeah, sure, but if it dies, I’m blaming you.”

“I’ll take full responsibility!” you promise, huffing. you don’t see your husband’s eyes lookting at you with subtle fondness, while you place the potted plant into the cart.

finally, as you reach the checkout, you feel a sense of accomplishment.

katsuki stands beside you, the small plant in hand while you juggle the curtains and pillow. “not bad for a day’s work,” you say, looking up at him.

he nods, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “yeah, I guess it’s alright.”

as you both head outside, katsuki glances at the bags in your hands, then turns to you, takes the bags, his expression softening in that rare way that only you ever get to see.

“let’s get outta here,” he mutters, running his empty hand hand through his hair. “this shopping crap’s a waste of time.”

you laugh, slipping your hand into his. “you did great, hubby.”

he grumbles, but despite that, he doesn’t let go of your hand, his grip tightening just slightly as you walk together out of the store.

you can’t help but smile at the simple gesture, so you squeeze his hand lightly.

as you approach the car, katsuki pauses, turning to you. “hey,” he starts, looking a bit bashful. “you really love this stuff, don’t you?”

“of course! it’s our home, after all,” you reply.

“then… I guess it’s worth it,” he mutters, scratching the back of his head. “just don’t make me do this every weekend.”

you chuckle, squeezing his hand. “no promises, but I’ll make sure to keep it interesting.”

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[bytemee]

mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader headcannons? 🙂‍↕️

WORST BEHAVIOR — yu jimin headcannons.

read the one shot here!

pairings. mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader

warning(s). pet names (karina calling u puppy), jealous & possessive!karina, let me know if there’s more

words. 802

authors note. this is the first time i EVER did headcannons… got too lazy to add nsfw ones though 😞

mean!sorority!karina who calls you ‘puppy’ more than your actual name because, in her eyes, that’s exactly what you are—her pathetic, obedient little lapdog.

mean!sorority!karina who keeps you on a short leash. you’re not allowed to talk to certain people, go to certain parties without her knowing, or—god forbid—ignore her texts. if you take too long to respond, she’ll send a follow-up: “puppy? don’t make me come find you.”

mean!sorority!karina who loves making you flustered. she’ll drag her fingers along your jaw, trace her nails down your arms, lean in as if she’s going to kiss you—only to pull away at the last second and laugh.

mean!sorority!karina who got possessive without realizing it. she still made fun of you relentlessly, but the moment someone else tried? her tone turned cold. “i didn’t say you could talk to them.”

mean!sorority!karina who bullies you in public, but gets territorial in private. if someone else messes with you? suddenly, she’s not amused.

mean!sorority!karina who hated how much she noticed you. the way your ears turned red when she got too close. how you always showed up when she needed you, no matter how ridiculous her request was.

mean!sorority!karina who would never admit she liked you first. instead, she’d just scoff, roll her eyes, and mutter, “ugh. why do you have to be so pathetic?” as if it was your fault she was falling.

mean!sorority!karina who is the most demanding, impatient person ever. she wants kisses when she wants them, and nothing is going to stop her from getting what she wants—not even you.

mean!sorority!karina who tries to hide it, but her heart melts when you do cute things. when you offer her the last cookie, or tell her she looks nice in a dress, or hold the door open for her.

mean!sorority!karina who doesn’t know how to express her feelings properly. so, when she says, “you’re so annoying,” or, “you’re lucky i tolerate you,” or, “it’s not that i like you or anything,”—you know it really means, “i love you.”

mean!sorority!karina who acts like she’s doing you a favor by letting you be around her. “you should be grateful, puppy. not everyone gets to be my personal lapdog.” but the truth is, she’d probably go insane if you ever actually left.

mean!sorority!karina who gets jealous so easily, it’s ridiculous. she’ll roll her eyes and act uninterested, but if she catches you laughing a little too hard at someone else’s joke? she’s suddenly in your space, hands on your collar, whispering, “what’s so funny? care to share with the class?”

mean!sorority!karina who uses her nails to tease you constantly. she loves the way you freeze up when she drags them down your arm or across the back of your neck. and she always does it when she knows you can’t react—like in public or in front of her friends.

mean!sorority!karina who finds excuses to touch you, even when she doesn’t have to. adjusting your hoodie strings, fixing your hair, pulling you close by your belt loop just to whisper something unnecessary. she’s addicted to how easily she can fluster you.

mean!sorority!karina who says she doesn’t do relationships, but somehow, you’re different. she doesn’t know when it happened, but suddenly, she’s only interested in you. and when someone asks if you two are a thing, she just scoffs and says, “she’s just my pup. i keep her around.”

mean!sorority!karina who would act like she doesn’t care, but if you ever tried to leave? if you ever pulled away from her, even slightly—suddenly, she’s not so nonchalant anymore.

mean!sorority!karina who will corner you at a party, arms crossed, voice deceptively calm. “what’s this i hear about you ignoring me, puppy?” and if you try to play dumb, her lips curve into a smirk that doesn’t reach her eyes. “don’t test me.”

mean!sorority!karina who will scoff, roll her eyes, and mutter, “fine. go.” if you ever seriously consider walking away. but the second you actually turn your back, she’s grabbing your wrist, yanking you close, and whispering, “you think you can just leave me?”

mean!sorority!karina who won’t beg, won’t admit she’s scared, but if you ever really push her—if you tell her you’re done, that she can’t keep stringing you along—her mask finally cracks. her voice will drop as she mutters, “you don’t get it, do you? you’re mine, puppy.”

mean!sorority!karina who is terrified you’ll realize that somewhere along the way, she became yours, too.

[brittle-doughie]

Orchestrated Arrival (Pure Vanilla Cookie)

Previous Story

———————————————————————

[Main Story]

Therapy Progress Note

Y/N Cookie has improved drastically since the last visit with me, being more lively and engaged with my questions and conversations. Their previous symptoms have since cleared up and appear to be back to normal condition. There was one particular thing of note was the incense they carry with them, but they’ve told me that it was just for personal reasons.

I ask that Y/N Cookie returns to me in a week to see if their progress continues to improve. Seeing their smile reminds me of why I chose this line of work.

- Chamomile Cookie.

———————————————————————

You looked up at your drawer mirror, that light in your eyes that wasn’t there before, giving you confidence that you were back. Back in control.

You look over to the incense that was in the burner, giving off that fragrance that you’ve welcomed into your life. You kept counting your stars that Golden Osmanthus Cookie was able to help with your…problem.

You kept inspecting yourself when you noticed that the smoke from the burner had stopped, looks like it ran out of incense. No matter, you open your drawer to get out the next one..until you kept reaching around in there and noticed there wasn’t any.

Well..that was okay, the other drawer also had more, you’ll just open that and get some mo-there wasn’t any in there either.

Now you really started to worry as you go through the drawers to try and look for where you placed the incense, unable to locate any as your searching grew more frantic. You were practically opening any cabinet or drawer and flipping them upside down to look for something, anything!

That hazy feeling in your head was slowing returning and along with it, came their voices again…

…

…

You: “Oh no…”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Yoohoooo~! If it isn’t my dearest little Cookie!”

You: “What?! You’re here already?!”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Aw, that’s no way to greet a close friend of yours~!”

You: “We’re not friends. I only allowed you to help that one time and you still had to go overboard with it!”

You sigh to yourself. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you looked like a crazy Cookie talking to thin air from an outside perspective.

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Tsk tsk tsk. I did as you asked, you never said HOW I should do it. Or did that not matter to you in the heat of the moment~?”

You: “Yeah, because I’m not as nuts as you are.”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Oh, Y/N Cookie! I’m so hurt~ There’s no need to get mad with little ol’ me~ Those three are still alive, right~?”

You only grumbled as you get up to head out the door, only for your hand to freeze up right as it was about to touch the doorknob, confusing you.

You: “What the…”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Believe me when I say that I hate doing this, but it seems you leave me with no choice!”

Your hand leaves the doorknob as you grabbed your arm with the other one.

You: “No way, it hasn’t been that long yet!”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Oh no, you see, I’m different compared to my…friends. Nothing you can do will deter me from you…”

You: “Get out of my head!”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Oh, but it’s just so snug in here! All of these feelings! All of these memories…you’ve been quite the busy Cookie longer than I expected!”

You: “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “If you don’t want to take a trip down memory lane, then listen to what I have to say, cutie~”

You: “……*sigh*..What is it?”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Surprise! You’re going to Beast-Yeast again! This time, to see the greatest show master across the land, me!”

You: “Of course it’d be that, as if your friends weren’t enough…”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Aw, don’t be like that. My acquaintances may be a little..intense, but I promise to you that they do care!”

You: “One of them tried to mess with my mind and the other gave me these invisible scars of sort. Is that caring to you? Not to mention that you tried to mess with my head too!”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Things might have gone a little off script, but I promise it will be different this time!”

You: “And if I say no-“

Shadow Milk Cookie: “THEN YOUR KINGDOM WILL SUFFER FROM YOUR CHOICE!”

You: “What?! You can’t do that! They have nothing to do with this!”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “You’ve forced my hand, Y/N~ I’d hate to hurt you much more, but I will have your little pals on strings if you say no~ I don’t need my puppets alive to toy with them~”

———————————————————————

A brief flash of an image coursed in your head. Your kingdom on fire. Houses in ruin. The grass was wilted as Cookies fled from the chaos.

There in the sky were Crowned Cupcake, Salsa, and Dumpling Cookie. Their limbs twisted and broken on blue strings, their necks…necks don’t bend that way…

The flash goes away as quickly as it came, making you gasp.

———————————————————————

You: “No, you can’t…”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Oh, but I will! So, what will it be? No pressure~”

You: “I….I…”

*KNOCK KNOCK*

???: “Y/N Cookie? Is everything alright in there?”

You snapped your head to the door to the voice on the other side of it.

You: “Dumpling Cookie?”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Tick tock, honey~”

———————————————————————

Dumpling Cookie: “Y/N Cookie? Are you..”

The door to your chambers opens as you step out, as you adjust your outfit with a determined look.

You: “I’m fine. But I have to go and attend to something. I’ll be back when I can.”

Dumpling Cookie: “What? This is abrupt of you, I can come along to assess the situation-“

You: “No need, I can handle myself.”

Dumpling Cookie: “Y/N Cookie, do you not remember what I said earlier? If anything is a problem, you can tell me…”

You: “Don’t you trust me that I can handle things on my own?”

Dumpling Cookie: “I’m not doubting you, but..I just wanted to know if you were okay…”

You: “I am, don’t you worry. I’ll see you around…”

You go and head off down the hallway. Dumpling Cookie wanted to reach out and go to you…but stopped herself.

You made your choice clear…

…

…

…

???: “Are they gone?”

Dumpling Cookie sighs as she looked to the side solemnly.

Dumpling Cookie: “Yes…”

Salsa Cookie and Crowned Cupcake Cookie step out of the darkness of the hallway behind her.

Salsa Cookie: “Good. We’re getting to the bottom of this.”

Crowned Cupcake Cookie: “It hurts me to see my dearest shun us out, we need an explanation from them!”

Salsa Cookie: “Don’t be too sad, Dumpling Cookie. Y/N Cookie is clearly hiding something from us and we’re going to figure out what.”

Dumpling Cookie: “I just feel like we could have waited for them to tell us on their own terms…”

Crowned Cupcake Cookie: “The more we wait, the more they could get hurt!”

Salsa Cookie: “Remember, this is for their own good…”

Dumpling Cookie still had conflicted feelings, right as she headed into your chambers alongside the two.

———————————————————————

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “Y/N Cookie, you’re here!”

You: “Y-yeah, here I am.”

Pure Vanilla goes to hug you close as the others head over, glad to see you return to the Faerie Kingdom after many months.

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “Are you okay? Are you well?”

You: “Yes, I am…well….”

Your eyes twinkle a certain blue.

You already regret coming here…

———————————————————————

“What do you mean you won’t hand over control of them?!”

“This wasn’t what we agreed on…”

“Oh please, my friends! You two had your chance with my dearest! Now it’s my time to shine with my special reunion with them~”

“And what if you fail?! We’ll be losing them again from the palm of our hands!”

“It will be a pity if it happens…”

“I’ve got this under control. It’s either us or their kingdom falling under ruin~! They’ll be in our grasp when I’m done with them~”

“You have better be right….”

“Yes, I can’t lose them again….”

———————————————————————

[phoenix-art-official]

Inspired by i could imagine the end of the world and nothing else by cottonmouthcandy on Ao3 (link in reblogs)

“Couldn’t talk for a month after I got out of that goddamned city. Just clammed up. Started sweatin’ like I was hunted every time I opened my mouth.”

What if there was no hang fire?

"WHO IS IT? HAVE YOU COME TO STEAL MY EYES?!" 

Stan looks surprised, then his face falls. He waves. 

"... Stanley? Is that you?" Ford grabs him and shines a light in his eyes. 

Stan winces and tries to shove Ford off of him. 

"Apologies, I just had to make sure you weren't... nevermind. Come in, come in." 

Stan follows Ford into the shack, looking around judgementally as Ford paces. 

"Did anyone follow you? Anyone at all?" 

Bemused, Stan shakes his head. 

"Good, good. I appreciate you coming so quickly. There's not much time. I've made huge mistakes, and I don't know who I can trust anymore." He turns the head of a skeleton to look away. Stan raises an eyebrow, perturbed. 

Stan steps forward to place a hand on Ford's shoulder, and his jaw works as he wants to say something... but even now, the words stay caught in his throat. Instead he just squeezes in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. 

Ford sighs. "Right, I... I should explain myself. Follow me. What I'm about to show you is... something you can't even imagine." 

Stan nods and gestures for Ford to lead on. 

They make their way downstairs. Ford is too caught up in his own head to notice how silent Stan is being. 

When they get to the portal, Stan is actually speechless. Ford takes this as his sign to begin a monologue. 

You and I both know how this next part goes, so I'll do you a favor and skip to the good part. The part where Ford tells him to sail away.

Stan's face falls, then turns angry. He wants to shout, to scream, but he still can't seem to get even a frustrated grunt past his lips. Instead, he just shoves the journal back at Ford. 

"What the- Stanley! Be reasonable! All I'm asking for is one single favor! I haven't asked you for anything in over ten years, the least you can do for me is make sure the world doesn't come to ruin!" 

Stan just shakes his head. In his fury, a single syllable forces its way out of him. 

"You-!"

And just like that, his jaw clamps down again. His hand finds its way to cover his mouth. He can't do it. No matter how angry and hurt he is, he's still too terrified. Too broken.

Ford doesn't catch Stan's inner turmoil. "I what? Go on then! What's the first thing you have to say to me in over a decade? After everything you did, after you ruined my life, what could you possibly have left to say to me?" 

Stan has so much to say. Too much. So much that he can't even make his voice work, just like he hasn't in over a year. It hurts too much. 

Ford waits, and when Stan doesn't say anything, scoffs bitterly. "Right. Of course not. That's what I thought. More the fool I was for thinking I still had one person left in the world I could trust." 

Stan stops at that. It hurts more than words can say. 

Ford turns back, a new pleading look in his eye. "If you truly won't help me, I... Stanley, I don't have any idea what I'll do. We have our resentments, but this is bigger than that. Bigger than either of us. This could destroy reality as we know it. I don't expect you to understand it, but I at least want you to..." 

Ford sighs again, rubbing his eyes furiously. He looks so tired. "Of course, I shouldn't have bothered. None of this means anything to you, does it? It never has. You only ever saw me as your ticket to success. That's why you still have nothing to say to me." His voice grows hardened, resentful. "You've always been a coward and a liar. I can't believe I was so desperate as to reach out to you. No matter how dire the circumstances, I should've known I could never trust-" 

Stan's fist connects with Ford's jaw. He folds like a house of cards. He struggles upright, surprised at Stan's seething expression. 

Stan breathes heavily. He's shaking. His jaw works, but he still can't make himself speak. Ford waits for him to say something, anything. 

Stan opens his mouth to speak, and he almost manages- an odd, squeaky, hoarse noise comes out of his throat. But that's all. So he just turns around and walks away. 

Ford watches him go, heart sinking into his stomach. He looks at the journal in his hands and wonders what he's going to do now. 

"Wait-" 

Stan stops dead. He didn't expect that. He turns back. 

Ford doesn't know how to ask this, but he has to. "... If you're leaving, just- at least take this with you." He holds out the journal. "I can't keep it. I- I can't be trusted with it. It's not safe here, not with me, not with anyone else." 

Stan actually considers it now. Ford seems so terrified and desperate. But is this really all Stan is good for? 

Ford swallows his pride just a little more. "... Please?" 

Stan is shocked. Neither of them ever say please. Pa always said that was for sissies- real men take what they want. And yet, here they are, and Ford is asking. 

It hurts to know this is all Stan means to him, but he can't find it in himself to say no. 

Stan takes the journal. 

Ford heaves a sigh of relief so potent he nearly topples over. "Thank you." 

Stan just nods. He doesn't know if he feels like leaving now, though. Ford seems fragile. It worries him. 

Ford doesn't catch it. "... Well. I suppose that's it then. You're... free to go." 

Stan just keeps staring at him. He looks awful. It's much harder to leave now that the anger has faded a bit. 

"... What?" 

Stan isn't sure what. He gestures with one hand at Ford. 

Ford just blinks. Utterly bemused. "I... um..." 

Stan rolls his eyes and repeats the gesture more emphatically. 

"... I don't... what are you doing?" 

Stan sighs and looks around. Luckily, he spies what he needs on a nearby desk. Ford watches, dumbstruck, as Stan retrieves a pen and notepad. Then when Stan is finished scribbling, the note is shoved in his face. 

You gonna be okay?

"... I... Stanley, what's going on?" 

Stan shakes the note. 

"Yes, I read it, I just- why are you- I don't understand-" Ford's breath catches. His eyes go wide and he lowers his voice. "Are we being listened to?" 

Stan's shoulders slump. He shakes his head and writes something else. 

Pretty sure I wasn't followed.

"Then- then what? Why are you..." It's Ford's turn to gesture vaguely at his twin. "This?"

Ouch. Ford probably didn't mean it that way, but still. 

Stan chews on the inside of his cheek. He doesn't want to reveal how broken he is now, but Ford just isn't getting it. He can't bring himself to look at Ford when he hands over the next note. 

Can't talk.

Ford stares at the message. It doesn't compute. "... I don't..." He tries to meet Stan's eyes. His gaze is avoided. "Why not?" 

Stan hesitates before writing again. 

Just can't.

"No, clearly you can. Or at least to a degree." Ford's eyes flicker over Stan's body. "Your mouth and layrnx still seem functional... No one is listening to us... Are you cursed somehow?" 

Stan almost laughs, except it's been even longer since he did that than it has since he's spoken. 

Something like that.

Ford's brow furrows. "That isn't an answer. Why can't you speak?" 

Stan underlines his earlier message. Just can't.

"No, you can," Ford insists. "You always could for as long as I can remember. It was harder to get you to shut up sometimes. Why have you decided to stop now? Is this a recent development?" 

Stan really wants to walk away now. But he knows Ford will just follow him. Not that recent. Didn't decide. Just can't. He underlines the last word several times. 

Ford looks even more frustrated when he reads that. "If if isn't voluntary, how is it that you're still capable of speech, in the mechanical sense? Is it... neurological somehow? What was it that F mentioned..." He rubs his eyes again, even rougher than before. Before Stan can write anything else, he snaps his fingers. "Expressive aphasia! It can be caused by a traumatic brain injury. You appear otherwise unaffected though. Have you experienced any extreme head trauma?" 

Stan shakes his head incredulously. Well, he's been clobbered a few times, but he always ended up fine afterwards. No stupider than he was before. 

"Are you sure? Because I can't think of anything else that would..." Ford slowly starts to piece something together. He looks cautiously at Stan. "Except..." 

Stan shifts uncomfortably. He shrugs, as if to say, What?

Ford just stares at him, as if seeing him for the first time. He swallows. "It's just that... the only other cause I can think of is psychological trauma." 

Stan snorts. He can't help it. He shrugs in a, well, what can you do? gesture. 

Ford looks horrified, the drama queen. "... Really?" 

Stan rolls his eyes, then gestures to himself. I mean, look at me. Then he gestures at Ford. You don't look too good yourself.

"I- no, I'm fine," Ford defends in a very-not-fine tone of voice. "And you- you're supposed to be... that doesn't make sense. None if this makes sense..." He rubs at his face almost violently, skewing his glasses. "Stupid brain, just work for a minute here..." 

On instinct, Stan steps forward to take his hands and stop him. Ford flinches back. They stare at each other for a moment. 

Stan raises an eyebrow. Fine, huh?

Ford sighs. "That... it's been some time since I've slept and I'm a little jumpy. Like I said, I've made... terrible mistakes." He shudders. 

Stan looks at him with new understanding. He crosses his arms and gestures for Ford to continue. 

He frowns darkly. "There is a being of unimaginable power that seeks to use me to bring about the end of the world." 

Stan doesn't even blink. Just waits for him to keep talking. 

He does. "He takes over my body when I sleep. I've been able to hold him off so far, but only barely. If he gets his hands on my journals, is able to activate the portal..." He puts his hands on Stan's shoulders. "Stanley, it would be the end of the world." 

Stan raises an eyebrow. Another note: He?

"Bi-" and this time it's Ford who clams up. He shakes his head. "It- it's not safe to invoke his name. What's important is that he is an entity with infinite knowledge and access to my mind and body at any time." His eyes are wide, afraid. "I was a fool to ever trust him." 

Stan softens. He understands that, at least. He writes: You got conned.

Ford considers that and nods gravely. "I suppose I did." Uncharacteristic shame colors him. "Hook, line, and sinker, as it were." 

Stan studies him for a moment. Then, determined, he writes: He gonna hurt you?

Ford is stunned at that, a little vulnerable. "That- that's not important." 

Stan shakes his head emphatically. Points at the note. 

"Probably, yes, but again, that's not-" 

Stan lifts a hand to stop him. Miraculously, he does. Stan thinks for a second, then writes: Not leaving.

Ford's face falls. "What? No, you can't stay here, I just told you-" 

While Ford was speaking, Stan finished another note, and he shoves it in Ford's face. 

You're my brother. And below it, pressed so hard into the paper it almost tears, Not leaving you.

Ford can only stare at the words. "But..." 

Stan cuts him off with another wave of his hand. This time he writes for much longer. Ford waits. 

You look half dead. Don't wanna lose you. Don't care if you don't wanna see me. You. Need. Help.

Ford can't think of anything to say to that. For once, all he can think is that maybe Stan is right. 

So, eventually, tentatively, shakily, he nods. "Okay," he croaks. "Okay. What do we do?" 

Stan offers a smile. Then he wrinkles his nose. Shower first. You stink.

Ford mirrors him. "Well, you don't exactly smell pleasant either." 

Tooshay. Upstairs?

"Not how it's spelled," Ford mutters. Still, he considers the words for a moment. Looks back. Looks at the journal in Stan's hands, then behind him at the elevator. 

"... Alright."