#and people are telling him to his face that all this happening was HIS fault at least partly!
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HOLY SHIT YES.
Worked at current job for what is to me a "mere" 4 months but for shift manager is "already" 4 months. Nobody explains shit. If you ask they either say something vague or tell you it doesn't matter. When you ask someone higher up you get dressed down for not knowing it and you can't implicate you weren't taught it bc all the older workers are buddy-buddy and so long as my mentor doesn't murder me he's a perfect angel. Random facts get thrown in your face constantly and you just gotta pretend you've been Totally Doing That this whole time. One moment measuring x is not that important the next if you don't measure it EXACTLY within the specified time frame they're threatening to fire you. One time not doing y one hour within the start of the shift results in an hour-long dressing down during which you can't really Do Work, but if you wanna do it on time another day you're ridiculed for not waiting for the More Convenient Time To Do It. Mess up? Obv you gotta fix it, but watch out! When you do, you'll still get a half hour dressing down for "wasting" 10 minutes fixing it (technically it isn't in your job description). Something that's literally not your fault happens? Welp, sorry, you're the new guy which automatically means everything is your fault. And if you don't feel bad abt it bc, you know, not your fault? Now you're a piece of shit too. Other new guy's mentor badmouths him and throws him under the bus for HIS mistake? Casual fact nobody blinks twice for. Same guy whom his mentor didn't teach shit predictably doesn't know shit? Must be because he's an awful no good crapstain waste of skin.
Don't listen to anyone telling you production jobs are easy bc they're "simple" or "you're not swinging a fucking pickaxe now are you?" People there are constantly raging at shit and if you're not a Speech 100 social butterfly you're fucked. And if you're actually SHY or INTROVERTED? Literally nobody will like you.
Trust me, production workers have all the bad personality traits of construction workers with barely any of the decency, and that's only reserved for people like them.
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Satoru Gojo has a lot of love in his heart and he refuses to keep it all inside. His preferred method of showing exactly how much love he has to offer? Physical touch.
Even before he knew he loved you, your personal space had quickly become his personal space.
“Say, Gojo, you ever heard of personal space?” You asked one day as satoru pressed his leg up against yours while sitting on the bleachers. The two of you were watching Shoko and Suguru “spar”, though really it was just them doing the least amount of work possible - enough to keep Yaga satisfied but no where near enough for it to actually have any effect on their improvement (“you can only get better with real life experience!” Suguru would say leaning back on his chair slightly. “And i’ve got better things to do than fight this loser anyway.” Shoko nodded to herself , ignoring Suguru and Satoru’s eye rolls.)
“It’s Toru to you, and i’ve heard of it. Why do you ask?” He asked leaning closer to your face making you roll your eyes, “oh, you know, it’s just that usually people like to stay within their own personal space. Not in mine.” You thwacked his forehead causing him to whine dramatically before he threw an arm around your shoulders. “But I like your personal space better than mine, Sweets! Not my fault you have your own gravitational pull and stuff.” He grinned as he watched your cheeks bloom a lovely shade of red.
That being said if he sees anyone invading your personal space he will not hold back. “Hey, you mind backing out of our personal space?” he’d tell anyone who he deemed to be far too close to you before wrapping an arm around you and practically absorbing you into his side.
You’d only roll your eyes, heat filling your cheeks as you pinched his side. “Yeowch!” he’d exclaim dramatically but still never backing away from you.
Satoru Gojo also needs a lot of reassurance. He’s not picky on how he receives it as long as he receives it. He needs it. And if he felt he wasn’t getting enough back you’d definitely be hearing about it.
“I can’t believe we went from being madly in love to being just roommates.” he sighed one day, shaking head before placing the back of his hand over his forehead; imitating a damsel in distress. He was leaning against the bathroom door watching from his peripheral as you rolled your eyes, not moving away from in front of the bathroom mirror and into his arms like he had hoped.
“Neither can I… Because that hasn’t happened.” you sighed finishing your skin care before flicking the bathroom light off and squeezing past him, right under the arm that he had placed specifically to block you from leaving.
His pout deepened as he followed behind you like a lost puppy.
“Hasn’t?! As in it could?!” He whined reaching his arm towards you but narrowly missing the back of your shirt (you had sped up at the last second, already having had anticipated his behavior).
“Gojo.”
“That doesn’t work anymore, I’m not sure if you’re talking about me or you now, so you’ll have to be more specific about who you’re talking about!” he scoffed, finally grabbing onto your body before you were able to flop down onto your bed. You let out a whine, giving up and simply allowing him to maneuver your body however he pleased.
Taking your flimsy body as permission, he turned you around to face him, he wrapped his arms tightly around your torso before biting your cheek softly, coaxing a soft hiss from you.
“That’s exactly my point, Toru. We’re married not roommates… Does that not show how madly in love with you I am?” You couldn’t help but coo at him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smiled widely at you, pursing his lips before tightening his already brutal grip on your body.
“Dunno… You’ve only kissed me like two times today. Tax getting high on them or what up? I can pay my fees, ya know?” You rolled your eyes again but a small smile pulled at the corners of your lips. You had definitely kissed him way over two times but you knew that when he got this way there was no other way to soothe him than by giving him what he wants.
“They’ll run you about 450… Each. Sure you got it like that?”
“What about the husband discount?”
“Make it 650.”
“Ugh! You’re an evil little gremlin, aren’t you?”
To nobody’s surprise he got his kisses. Several of them and in quick succession resulting in your face being covered in an abhorrent amount of his spit (his full face smooches are always so unnecessarily messy!) Family discount be damned, he’d pay whatever tariff necessary for your love (not that he ever had to!)
#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#satoru fluff#hiiiii hope u like 😽#the works.
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you know what's timebomb coded? the entire home video album by lucy dacus released in 2021. (s2 act 3 spoilers ahead)
"you used to be so sweet, now you're a firecracker on a crowded street" -> from powder being a major sweetheart to jinx being (lovingly and not so lovingly) a pain in the ass that annoys everyone (and also literally carrying explosives around) | "led me to the floor even though i'm not a dancer" -> literally them dancing in ep7 | "how did i believe i had a hold on you? you were always stronger than people suspected, underestimated and overprotected" -> GUYS THIS IS LITERALLY EKKO TALKING ABOUT POWDER ISTG !!! "a hidden gem, my own goldmine, you had the wide and wild eyes" -> jinx eyes changing color and all "NOW YOU'RE THE BIGGEST BRIGHTEST FLAME, YOU ARE A FIRE THAT CAN'T BE TAMED, YOU'RE BETTER THAN EVER, BUT I KNEW YOU WHEN IT'S BITTERSWEET TO SEE YOU AGAIN" -> GUYS IS THIS NOT EXACTLY EKKO'S FEELINGS ABOUT JINX COME ON GUYS
the entire "first time" is peak "can we pretend like it's the first time?" | "YOU CAN'T FEEL IT FOR THE FIRST TIME A SECOND TIME" , "and how will i know if history repeats itself? how will I know when it's gonna come back around? how will i know? has my face changed, baby? how will I know?" this ekko after breaking free from the perfect dimension guys ,,, guys..
cartwheel guys. cartwheel. "FIREFLY juice on your skin / you're glowing like an ATOM BOMB" it's them it's them it's so them | "this natural thing that you've undone / outgrew older sister's clothes again / won't admit you're growing tall and thin" ekko watching her turn from powder to jinx from afar,,, | "i thought back to many years ago: a late-night promise on the telephone, we'd build a house of twigs and vines, grow old together just to pass the time // now there's only past and present day, i can't believe a word you say" EKKO WATCHING HER TURN EVIL FROM AFAR GUYS !!! WHILE STILL KEEPING FEELINGS !!!
thumbs it's ekko thinking about what silco has done to her. "i would kill him if you let me, i would kill him quick and easy, your nails are digging into my knee, i don't know how you keep smiling" / "you've been in his fist ever since you were a kid, but you don't owe him shit even if he said you did"
please stay. please stay is literally canon because he literally had to stop her from killing herself a good 5 times. "change your name, change your mind, change your ways, give them time [...] call me if you need a friend or never talk to me again, but please stay" like pleaseeee
and triple dog dare,,, "you're dancing in the aisle 'cause the radio Is singing you a song you know and the kid at the counter is gawking at your grace / i can tell what he's thinking by the look on his face, it's not his fault, I'm sure i look the same / it's what you do, but it's not you i blame" EP 7 TIMEBOMB GUYS | "you know i'll be seeking if you run and hide, if the door were to open, would you walk through the frame? if you're too afraid, it won't be you i blame" that's ekko trying to save her at some point | "i want you to tell me that you miss me, want you to hold and hurt and kiss me [...] it's a triple dog dare, you're a chicken if you don't" -> no explanation needed. | "i can fish for our food and you know how to start a flame, if you don't get out now, you'll only have yourself to blame" this is what he sounded like when he tried to save her from silco (bc i know he tried guys) "You said 'you have me there, if it's a triple dog dare'" bc tell me she is not the kind of person to do anything if it's a challenge. | "they put our faces on the milk jugs, missing children 'til they gave up [...] can't find the feeling of relief, nothing worse could happen now" -> ekko literally putting her face on the missing/dead poster, ekko disappearing in s2, jinx fleeing (she did not die guys trust me),,,
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The Best Friend part 2
Yes I made a lil 3 parts series for Homelander and his bestie.
If Y/N had to give John one good point, it was that he had been honest.
He could have said nothing, and she probably would have never known.
But at the same time, he wasn't completely stupid, and it wasn't a good idea to keep secrets like that.
Because he himself didn't like being lied to, promising that it would never happen between them, but also that he was giving Firecracker power over him, who could have threatened to tell her everything if he didn't do what she wanted.
Maybe she was blinded by admiration at the moment, claiming that she was at his beck and call and that she wouldn't ask for anything in return, but John knew people. He couldn't trust her.
"I'm not attracted to her at all, I told her that."
"… That reassures and consoles me enormously, John."
"Look, I understand that you're angry. But it was just once, just once ! A moment of weakness. I was exhausted, a lot of things had happened, you weren't there…"
"So it's my fault ?"
"No." He growled before sighing, trying to keep his cool. "I didn't say that. She was very persuasive. How does she know that I… Anyway, it was a mistake. I can fire her, she's no use to me. That idiot is loyal, I can ask her anything I want, but one word from you and she's gone. I can even kill her if you ask."
A lot of people wouldn't know how to react in this situation.
Normally it wasn't a good idea to upset the Homelander. You had to agree with him, not cry, not yell, not talk back. It was already an accomplishment that he admitted he had made a mistake.
Maybe he hadn't apologized, but Y/N was probably smart enough to know that he was sorry and that she should forgive him.
Anyone else would have eventually said sorry, taking the blame on them and making excuses for his cheating.
But besides the fact that she had been his only friend during his childhood, John loved Y/N because she wasn't afraid of him. And that meant she wasn't going to give in when he had hurt her.
"Your solution to a problem always has to be murder. Really, John, we're not eight years old anymore."
"Exactly, that's why we're talking like two adults."
"I'm waiting."
"What ?"
"For you to act like an adult."
Then John chuckled. He put on his eternal air of a guilty child who pretended not to understand what he had done wrong, disturbed that someone dared to corner him in this way, him, the great Homelander.
But seeing that Y/N was staring at him without saying anything, waiting, he quickly regained his seriousness, hiding his embarrassment behind a mask of annoyance.
"I just told you that I wouldn't do it again. She doesn't attract me at all, she's pathetic. I only love you. I've only ever loved you, since forever. The others were nothing, distractions, puppets. You're the only one who really knew me, who made me happy."
"I'm waiting."
"You don't want me to cut her in two, and I can't go back in time by flying around the Earth in the opposite direction of rotation contrary to what some idiots think, I don't see what I can do."
"Apologize."
"… Sorry." he mumbled, looking down, showing a pout.
"No. Better than that, John. Give me your most sincere apologies."
At this point, someone else would already be dead, or at least facing a furious and threatening supe, ready to use his lasers to silence her.
But Y/N was really not just anyone. Realizing that she would not change her mind, John mumbled, hands on his hips, before displaying his fake stage smile.
"I'm so sorry."
"I'm still waiting."
"… I should never have done that, it was pathetic of me. I love you more than anything and I shouldn't take it for granted, you deserve to be treated with respect. Forgive me."
"Hmm. Almost but not yet." she decided, holding back a smile.
She was still angry, but Y/N was ready to forgive him. After all these years, she knew how John was. She knew he would never have said the word "sorry" if he didn't mean it, and he wouldn't have confessed anything if he didn't really care about her.
But the moment was tasty and she wanted to make the most of it, so that he would learn his lesson well.
"What ? You want me to get on my knees ?"
"That would be a good start."
"… Fine."
Y/N had said that as a joke. In truth, she didn't really know what she was waiting for, only that she wanted it to last a little longer. It was impossible to tell whether or not she liked seeing John at her feet, staring at her with fear.
"I'm sorry. Don't leave me."
"Oh, John…"
"I know I can be difficult. You're always good and patient with me, even though I don't deserve it at all. I love you. If you left me, I would die, truly. The day they took you from me, I thought I was having a heart attack. I couldn't breathe. I would destroy everything if you disappeared again."
It wasn't exactly a reassuring statement. It could even have been taken as blackmail or a threat. But John would never hurt Y/N, she knew that.
He would kill everyone else, leaving only them, but he would tear off an arm rather than hurt her.
Tenderly, she stroked his hair, then his cheek, before leaning in to kiss him.
"I forgive you, John."
"Hmm."
"I love you too, I'm not going to leave you."
"Thanks."
"Get up now."
"Hmm. I don't know, I like the view." he said with a small smile. She followed his gaze, still leaning over, understanding that this way he had a full view of her chest and crotch.
The small pat he took on your head made him snicker, as did Y/N's falsely outraged look.
"I know another way to make it up to you."
"It wouldn't really be a punishment."
"I'll just be a little sad if I can't find any milk. But we could also do something to change that."
"Why are you never serious ?" she sighed, rolling her eyes.
The apology ended like that, because she received a call that caught her full attention. Y/N didn't look at John either, who never left her, dangerously serious, and fixed on her stomach.
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If Mordred and Freya grew up in the same Druid camp.
There was a moment of weakness. The two were in the tavern. Merlin was telling Mordred about the Druid girl he had once saved and protected. . . Well, he tried to, anyway. Her life slipped through his fingers and he blamed himself. It wasn't usual for Merlin to chug back the alcohol like this and certainly not to be so vulnerable around people, especially not around Mordred. But Mordred was the only one who could know, being a Druid and a magic user, and on nights like these, the feelings he had pressed down came spilling out of his heart.
While Merlin sobbed incoherently over this girl, Mordred tried to put the pieces together. Merlin told him that this was a Druid girl, who was captured, because she was dangerous. But she wasn't dangerous at all, she was kind and loving and compassionate, and lonely. Though Mordred had a hard time deciphering the words between Merlin's hiccups, he did know one person that could match this description.
"Was her name Freya, by any chance?"
The look on Merlin's face at the mention of her name. . . His eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and he teared up. "How do you know that?"
Mordred smiled, but only in sadness. "She lived in the same camp as I. Her parents were kind people and took care of all the children. Freya was as kind as her parents and took care of all those who were younger than her. She sang melodies that I can no longer remember the sound of, only that she sang them with passion and love. I've always seen her as an older sister. The day her parents passed away, we were all grieving. Us children the most."
Merlin looked at him. "Why did you cast her away?" he asked. "It wasn't her fault."
The young knight frowned. "I was just a child," he said. "The other children and I wanted her to stay, no matter what form she took. But the adults thought it was best for her to leave and never return. He said we were all in danger if she was around."
There was a brief pause. "I asked Freya what happened. A man attacked her while she was gathering herbs in the woods, so she defended herself. His mother found her and cursed her. It was horrible to hear. None of this was her fault."
He shifted in his seat. "Freya's magic is strong, but her heart is delicate. She wouldn't want to use her powers when every night she is forced to. . ." Mordred shook his head and stopped there. "I was afraid I might never see or hear from her again. But thanks to you, I know that she passed in peace."
"In peace?" Merlin wiped away his tears.
"In peace," Mordred repeated. "You've shown her compassion. You've shown her what love is. I'm happy she could feel loved in her last moments."
"You know Freya, you say?" Merlin asked, slurring his words. "How can I believe you? What if you're just making things up?" He was bitter, but how could he not, after all that had happened to him? "What was her favourite fruit? Do you know that?!"
Mordred scratched the back of his head. "I'm not lying to you about this," he said, "but I don't remember her favourite fruit. . . She always picked strawberries for us when we were little. But she also gave me apples, because I particularly liked those. I don't know. Maybe she just liked red fruit."
It was then and there that Merlin passed out, dropping his cup in the process. The tavernsmaid scolded Mordred for it, so Mordred quickly got off his seat and tried to carry Merlin out of the tavern, back to his room. He wasn't as heavy as Gwaine, thankfully, so carrying him was a lot less terrible. When he arrived, Gaius was sitting at the table.
"What is this?" he asked, surprised that Merlin would let himself be carried by Mordred out of all people. Gaius walked to them and helped Mordred put Merlin back in his room.
"I think he should rest," Mordred said. "Not only does the prophecy weigh heavy on his shoulders. . . He carries a heavy heart with him, too."
He gave Gaius a smile and walked towards the door. Right before he walked out, he stopped and turned to Gaius.
"I wish nothing for love to flourish the world," he said. "I wish for Emrys to feel the same kind of peace I feel when I am around him. I hope that one day, he can feel safe, and he can rest."
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… I was inspired okay.
—
Zane shifted in his seat, discomfort mixing with anxiety inside of him. I wish this was over with already.
It was only him and Pixal today. The others were off doing other things, and although he’d offered to join them, she had been insistent.
You haven’t undergone any maintenance in 60 years, Zane. You must slow down for one moment so I can assess your systems.
Except that he didn’t want to slow down, didn’t want to think too hard about all those years. Slowing down meant having time to consider. Slowing down meant allowing the guilt to consume him.
Zane had never wanted to erase his own memory so badly as he had in the last few weeks.
“I will be as quick as I can, I promise.” Pixal glanced over at him and smiled, her green eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights of the garage.
“I know. I’ve just been putting it off.” Zane forced himself to sit still as she came over, putting a hand over his chest compartment before pressing the button to open it. “I feel fine, you know.”
“I am sure you do. But that amount of time without maintenance must have been difficult on your circuits. I’m just going to assess the damage and what repairs will need to be done.”
He laid back so she could see, staring up at the stone ceiling. “It… was a bit of time, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Pixal stopped, her voice filled with… was that hesitation? “Zane, did your internal heater stop functioning?”
“I usually have no need of it. My temperature gauge is a bit off, but beyond that…” Zane stopped, glancing over at her. “Why do you ask?”
“There is… ice.”
“What?”
“You have ice coating your circuits,” she clarified, her eyes finally meeting his. “Have you been running slower than normal?”
“Maybe? I haven’t noticed. How bad is it?”
Pixal sighed. “I have to run a full diagnostic. Zane, I’ve never seen your powers affect you like this.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, letting her plug him into the computer and blinking at the flow of information that came across his vision. Mission reports, blueprints, information from all over Ninjago City…
It was dizzying. He never liked being online— conscious when he was plugged into the computers.
Zane shut his eyes, blocking the flow. “I wasn’t myself, Pixal. I couldn’t control my abilities. I…” I did horrible things, my love. So many terrible things. I don’t even want to tell you about them because I know you’ll despise me.
I despise myself. I didn’t protect anyone. All I did was destroy.
Pixal must have sensed his thoughts, because she put a hand on his shoulder. “You must not blame yourself, Zane. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was. I shouldn’t have been so corruptible, shouldn’t have allowed my powers to be used that way.” He shuddered. “I remember it all, Pixal. Every moment. Every person I froze. Every scream… I have violated my base code.”
She didn’t respond for a moment, a warmth filtering through him as she turned on his internal heater. How long had it been since he’d turned that on? It must have turned off at some point while he was—
No, best not to dwell on it.
“I refuse to believe it was your fault.” Pixal finally said. “Look at me, Zane.”
He opened his eyes, focusing on her face. Every line, every carefully smoothed out bump and scratch. She was familiar to him, as familiar as his powers had been.
At least up until he had used them only to terrorize and destroy for 60 years. Now, he could hardly recognize himself.
Pixal smiled, touching his cheek gently. “I don’t blame you for what happened, Zane. None of us do.”
“I am a monster, Pixal,” Zane whispered, hating the words as soon as they fell from his mouth. “I ki—“
“No. It wasn’t you.”
“It was my hands. My powers. I should have tried to fight it, I should have at least tried to resist the scroll.”
“You did. You almost hurt Lloyd, and you didn’t do it, remember?”
“Because he said my name. If he hadn’t…”
“Lloyd is fine. The people of the Never Realm will be fine. It is you I am worried about.”
Zane fell silent, watching as her attention turned back to his frost bitten insides. “I was the Ice Emperor longer than I’ve been a ninja, you know. I’m older than you now. Much older.”
“I know, but you’ve always been older than me. You are the outdated model, remember?” Pixal’s tone was teasing, but even he caught the undercurrent of sadness. She doesn’t like this any more than I do.
“Not to worry, Zane, I’ve always liked older men.” Pixal smiled at him before looking down again, her fingers stilling their repairs. “I only wish I had been able to do something to stop this from happening to you.”
He shook his head. “I would have only hurt you, Pixal. I don’t want that— I’ve never wanted that.”
Pixal pressed a button on the computer, and the dizzying spread of information finally stopped scrolling across his vision. Thank the FSM. “I would do anything to get you back, Zane. Fate seems to enjoy separating us, and I am beginning to get tired of it.”
Zane managed a smile. “Perhaps this will be the last time.”
“One can only hope.”
Silence fell over the two of them as she continued to work, more of a comfortable silence than anything else.
Maybe it wasn’t truly the act of forgetting that I wanted, he mused, staring up at the ceiling once again. Maybe it is the privilege of being able to cry.
YOU KNOW WHAT I WOULD'VE LOVED TO SEE? THE IMPACT OF ZANE BEING THE ICE EMPEROR FOR 60 YEARS.
HE WAS THE ICE EMPEROR LONGER THAN HE'S BEEN A NINJA.
HE KILLED ALMOST ALL OF THE YETIS. HE FROZE THE FORMLING VILLAGE. HE CORRUPTED THE SAMURAI. All of that goes against his base directive - to protect those who cannot protect themselves.
I NEED to see the emotional impact on Zane, and eventually the rest of the team. Bonus points if it comes with seeing the impact on Zane's body, since he definitely didn't get any maintenance in his time in the Never-Realm.
#lego ninjago#ninjago season 11#ninjago ice emperor#zane julien#ninjago#writers on tumblr#ninjago ice chapter#pixal ninjago#ninjago pixal#ninjago zane#please he’s traumatized#i was inspired#pixane
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Wei Wuxian and Narrative Agency – Part Three
For Xiantober Day Five: Past and Present, in which the author gets very unhinged about what parts of the past are shown and how that’s affected by the present!
(Part One | Part Two | Full version on AO3)
The Power of Agency: Shaping the Narrative
When I've discussed Wei Wuxian's agency previously, I’ve talked about how what’s shown and omitted tells us about a character, and we’ve talked about the character himself. Though this is a niche topic, it’s not necessarily something out of the ordinary to analyse, and we can assume everything up to here has been in some way intentional.
This? Linking structure to a character’s in-universe preferences?
This is where we get unhinged.
Before I start, let’s quickly establish something which will be important later: although Wei Wuxian is the central character, MDZS isn’t strictly from his POV. While omitting events a character doesn’t like to dwell on and concealing things the character wishes to hide is common in books with only one narrator, MDZS has multiple narrators which it switches between relatively quickly. This includes Wei Wuxian, but it also includes nearly every major character that appears in the story, and omniscient narrator as well. As a default, this format doesn’t lead to this deliberate shaping and omission because of one character’s preferences, since we have many other sources of information and events – which is what makes Wei Wuxian’s influence over the narrative and structure so interesting. We could have access to a lot more information, and access to it at different times, than we do (and that’s not an insult, quite the opposite!).
To begin: we’ve established that times such as Wei Wuxian’s time on the streets, his three months in the Burial Mounds and his loss in the Siege aren’t shown because Wei Wuxian has little agency there. But that’s not the only special thing about them. They’re also the three most traumatic times in his life, and so moments Wei Wuxian himself either can’t remember, or doesn’t like to dwell on.
This is why discussing Wei Wuxian’s treatment of tragedy in his life was important. Firstly, it shows he doesn’t focus on the tragedy in his life, so the idea that the narrative not focusing on this tragedy relates to his character has merit; secondly, it affirms that this is not a passive trait, but a choice. Therefore, when the narrative omits events due to this aspect of Wei Wuxian, it’s respecting not only a character detail – which would be cool by itself – but also an active decision. One that shapes the story it’s made in.
In other words, its very structure is respecting Wei Wuxian’s agency!
Now, of course there are flashbacks to other moments of his past he probably wouldn’t like to dwell on, too. But within the structure, they’re only shown when Wei Wuxian is thinking about them (or when he has reason to)!
Wei WuXian hadn’t woken up yet. His eyes were still tightly shut, yet his hand didn’t let go either. He seemed to be dreaming, muttering, “… Don’t… Don’t be angry…” Lan WangJi seemed somewhat surprised. His voice was gentle, “I am not angry.” Wei WuXian, “… Oh.” Hearing this, as though he finally felt assured, his fingers loosened. Lan WangJi sat beside Wei WuXian for a while. Seeing that he was motionless again, he was about to stand up when Wei WuXian grabbed him with his other hand, hugging his arm and refusing to let go. He shouted, “I’ll go with you, quick, take me back to your sect!” Chapter 63, EXR translation
Which, of course, is him dwelling on…
Lan WangJi spoke one word at a time, “Go back to Gusu with me.” Hearing this, both Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng were surprised. Quickly afterward, Wei WuXian laughed, “Go back to Gusu with you? To the Cloud Recesses? Why go there?” He immediately seemed to realize, “Oh. I forgot. Your uncle Lan QiRen hates crooked people like me. You’re his proudest disciple, so of course you’re the same as him, haha. I refuse.” Chapter 62, EXR translation
…the painful flashback immediately preceding this. The third set of flashbacks (which are also painful) are a similar case. Look at the contex:
He lifted the bottom of his robe, revealing a prosthetic leg made of wood, “This leg of mine was destroyed by you, that night in the Nightless City (…)” (…) “Wei WuXian, I won’t ask you if you remember or not. Both of my parents died by your hands. You owe too many people. You definitely won’t remember them either. But, I, Fang MengChen, will never forget! And never forgive you!” (…) “In the fight at Qiongqi Path, my son was strangled to death by your dog Wen Ning!” “My shixiong died by poison, his entire body festering due to your cruel curse!” Chapter 68 (immediately preceding the flashbacks), EXR translation
And Wei Wuxian’s own thoughts and words:
Wei WuXian looked at the cultivators before the Demon-Slaughtering Cave. Their expressions were the absolute same as those of the cultivators from the night of the pledge conference, pouring their wine on the ground as they took the pledge to scatter the ashes of the Wen Sect’s remnants and him. (…) Wei WuXian, “Now it’s time to ask just whom it is that treasures it so much. It’s like Wen Ning. Back then, some certain sects or so were scared to death of the Ghost General. They said they’d kill him on the surface, but behind their backs they hid him for over ten years. How strange. Who was the one that said his ashes had been scattered back then?” Chapter 79 (immediately succeeding the flashbacks), EXR translation
Once again, Wei Wuxian’s own thoughts relate to the flashbacks we’ve just been shown. And, as I previously mentioned, though all the events which are shown are tragic, they’re also events which Wei Wuxian’s own choices and actions shaped – which he has this to say about:
“The things I did, not only do you remember them, I remember them too. You won’t forget them, and they’ll stay even longer in my mind!” Chapter 82, EXR
Admittedly, this applies more to the third set of flashbacks than the second (which is still fitting as the third set was the most recent), as in the second, although he still had agency within and influence over his circumstances, the majority of the pain was caused by others’ actions (excluding, of course, the Golden Core transfer… which is something we know stays for a long time in his mind, albeit with a caveat we’ll soon discuss). But it’s still important to note – especially considering that otherwise, focusing on this very painful time in his life wouldn’t seem like something very in-character for Wei Wuxian to do.
Of course, this can all just be explained by good writing. It is best to insert flashbacks when they’re relevant to the characters and events in the present day! But it is interesting to compare these to the start of the (not painful) Gusu flashbacks, which open this way:
At a later time, Wei WuXian pondered upon the reason why his relationship with Lan WangJi wasn’t good. Getting to the root of the matter, everything started when he was fifteen, coming to the GusuLan Sect with Jiang Cheng to study for three months. Chapter 13, EXR
Again, considering the circumstances around which these flashbacks take place – returning to the Cloud Recesses for the first time since the lectures, and meeting Lan Wangji once more – it makes complete sense for Wei Wuxian to be thinking about these events*. So it does fit the pattern of Wei Wuxian dwelling on something, thus leading to the narrative dwelling on it, too (and being shaped by his thoughts)… but there’s another layer to this. Importantly, it is the only flashback where Wei Wuxian’s present thoughts don’t lead to this happening, with his thoughts at an unspecified future time leading to it, instead. I like to interpret this as the text saying that, since these events aren’t something Wei Wuxian wouldn’t focus on in normal circumstances, he can dwell on them at any time. Therefore, they’re free to come up in the narrative at any time as well, even if he’s not dwelling on them in the present moment!
So, to summarise: Wei Wuxian’s decision not to focus on the painful times in his life directly influences the narrative to not focus on these times. When painful times are brought up and shown to us, it’s in the context of him thinking about them in the present day, and even then, his most painful moments still aren’t shown to us. His agency in this regard is still respected by the narrative structure.
This is the main way his agency influences the structure of the narrative, but I’d like to talk about the revealing and concealing of information, too. For example, I said I’d talk about the Golden Core transfer – though Wei Wuxian does think about this many times, as evidenced by his internal narration in Chapter 103. But unlike everything we’re shown through the flashbacks, this is something Wei Wuxian is actively trying to hide from others. And the narrative respects this choice (Wei Wuxian’s agency, again), never reveals it even when it would be relevant in the flashbacks, and we find out not through narration, but through a character’s dialogue!
And to clarify – I know these aspects may not be in the book for this exact reason. Showing flashbacks in relevant moments is good writing, concealing an important plot point you want to do a reveal for is necessary writing, and MXTX has said she didn’t want to write about Wei Wuxian’s time in the Burial Mounds, due to not liking to write transformation sequences (and also because it would not be pleasant at all, which likely also applies to Wei Wuxian’s death). That doesn’t prevent it from also being intentional – MXTX’s intelligence is shown in many aspects of this book, and there’s nothing disproving it – but there’s no proof for either option, so I won’t pretend there is. I bring this up because I know this feels like I’m overanalysing, as I feel that way as well.
But, whether it’s intentional or not, it exists in the text, and I adore it – so, regardless, it’s something I’ll explore. Because taking this into account… We aren't just told about Wei Wuxian having agency, we aren’t just shown it in the text, we aren’t even just shown it through which parts of his past are shown and hidden in the structure of the text (as I talked about in Part One). The parts of the past that are shown and hidden also have an in-universe reason for being shown and hidden, this reason being the choices he makes! Agency is the ability of a character to influence the story they’re in, but Wei Wuxian’s agency, as a property of a character who only exists in-universe, shapes the out-of-universe structure as well! That’s how we’re shown its importance! How cool is that?
At The End Of The Road: Summary and Final Thoughts
In this essay, we’ve covered how important Wei Wuxian’s agency is not only to the events of the plot, but to the structure of the narrative as well. The narrative omits periods in which Wei Wuxian has little or no agency, in favour of showing us periods in which he does, even when important events happened in the former. This indicates that who Wei Wuxian is without agency isn’t important enough to be shown to the audience, and therefore that his agency is an integral aspect of his character in MDZS. We’ve discussed how both in-universe and out-of-universe, tragedy does not define him – out-of-universe, the tragic events in Wei Wuxian’s life are used not to build sympathy but rather to show his strength of character and who he still is despite going through them; and in-universe, he chooses not to focus on the negativity and resentment caused by his circumstances or others’ actions, instead staying true to his moral compass and enjoying his life in the present day. Finally, we’ve also explored how this choice is another reason for the omission of certain events from the narrative, resulting in his agency shaping the story in a very literal way – it affects the out-of-universe structure, as well.
It’s quite fitting, for a story whose essence is about defying a conventional narrative – that of righteous clans rising up and defeating a great evil – and about a character who defies many conventional narratives on his own – that of status defining how skilled you could be, that for a golden core being necessary for cultivation and other paths being unavailable, that of a tragic but complete story of someone killed for staying true to their moral code (instead, that character returns to life and has a happy ending) – to have its own narrative play a role in such an important and interesting way.
(Or, if an image would be preferable:)
Thank you for reading!
(Part One | Part Two | Full version on AO3)
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*This strong relation to the present day circumstances is another reason I love the flashback placement so much (and why I think it’s such a loss both screen adaptions altered it so strongly)!
#get ready for tag thoughts because there are a LOT of them#it’s for THIS reason that fanon wwx bothers me so much (didn’t want to get negative on the acual post)#bc so often all the changes are changes that woobify him!#self-sacrificial idiot wwx?? only doing things because… poor him he has so many internal issues and values himself so little-#-so of course he’d sacrifice everything before thinking of another option? woobifying#(whenever he sacrifices something it’s a deliberate choice to act on his morals because he values his morals so much – and he’s also very-#-capable and DOES often find ways for no people to get hurt!)#wasn’t aware that what happened to him at lotus pier was wrong and needs lwj to tell him that for him to have any idea if it?#woobifying (as we see in the lotus seed pod extra he KNOWS it’s unfair)#(he downplays it retroactively in his memory (links into not focusing on the bad things in his life))#(but that’s the actions themselves that are being downplayed not their fairness!)#he chooses to act! he is defined by acting! not tragedy – all the more impressive in the face of the amount of tragedy that’s happened#he could SO EASILY have been a woobie but instead he’s the opposite of one: defined BY his agency instead of the absence of it#that doesn’t mean he’s not impacted by tragedy or trauma – he is! but it’s not the most important aspect of his character (bc he doesn’t le#it’s also something that bothers me about the changes cql made#by making qq path and nightless city the fault of someone else it means he IS someone who’s more a victim of circumstance than anything els#he had no control over the tragedies of his first life at all#apart from ig his death being controlled by him? because he just leaps off the cliff during the nightless city siege?? but in THAT case it’#i watched that part recently (i’m getting through it very slowly) and yeah it reaffirmed my love for this aspect of the book even more#despite. having these exact thoughts for two years already#he also dwells on the past events a lot more than book wwx which adds to that version of him BEING defined more by tragedy rather than who#anyway over 7.3k words total (and 400 more in the tags apparently)... it'll be posted to ao3 in its completion this evening!#mdzs meta#my meta#wei wuxian#mdzs#mo dao zu shi#魔道祖师#grandmaster of demonic cultivation#gdc
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actually while im in soup mode i do think its very interesting having this season that seems very very geared towards the talking it through and sharing traumas and healing through that... and the balance between owning that your actions can cause great harm to others and that while explaining what contributed to those actions can be helpful, it doesn't take away that the harm was done...
and stede bonnet is, once again, encouraging all that in everyone around him and stepping into accountability himself, but also not actually sharing any of the trauma that shaped him or contributed to his hoofing it back to barbados at the end of s1
like hmmmmmmmmmm
#ofmd#ofmd 2#our flag means death#stede bonnet#ofmd spoilers#spoilers#like im not saying him explaining yknow. being marched into the woods at gunpoint and verbally abused and traumatized.#and how he sorta wandered back to his house barefoot and Not All There largely as a result of that incident#desperate to try to do SOMETHING right ANYTHING right#im not saying him explaining that would make the effect on ed magically vanish or be totally okay or that it should mean he stops owning it#(it being that him leaving was very hurtful which he seems to understand)#but i do think it means something that he's NOT seemingly explaining any of this?? he's just like yep i left bc i was scared and i was wron#all my fault! everything that's happening is my fault!#and people are telling him to his face that all this happening was HIS fault at least partly!#and like. however things wouldve gone if badminton hadnt tried to murder him is a whole other thing but. im p sure he'd have at least#turned up to the dock?? if not for that????#idk its hard to explain properly i just like. would really love if stede actually did talk his shit out! explain what happened!
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It's giving the...main character syndrome. like who tf does she think she is??? Y/N???
NO OH MY GOSH ANON. LET ME TELL YOU. LET ME FRIGGIN TELL YOU.
#okay so i need to give her a name. we will call her yn bc she is just so different and quirky and not like other girls#so i haven't liked yn since freshman year (am a junior) because she seemed incredibly pretentious. she has like awards n stuff for this#asian advocation group and tons of other stuff which is GOOD. but she has a tendency to brag and be very cocky about it.#AND YOU KNOW WHAT. IT WASNT JUST ME. MY FRIEND FROM SEMINAR who we will call Pie for certain reasons (her name rhymes with it) AGREED WITH#ME ABOUT YN BEING COCKY! and Pie and Yn are in the same group since they are both Asian and ppl at my school typically hang out w their rac#is that racist? like there's an asian boys group and asian girls group. but it's only asians and white people; but it's weird since a large#portion of my school is hispanic. i dunno WEIRD SIDE TANGENT BUT BASICALLY THEY ARE IN THE SAME GROUPS; RIGHT? so Pie was agreeing that Yn#can be very pretencious; and I'm then like#oh i don't really like her for the cheating stuff she did with Mac (fake name) and how she got#him to basically cheat on his girlfriend“ and Pie says ”oh well Mac started it; but Yn lead him on for over a month while he had a gf#and they kept this going until Yn decided to break things off; WHICH MEANS MAC'S NOW EX GIRLFRIEND NEVER KNEW ABOUT ANYTHING W MAC N YN!#also allegedly according to my boyfriend; Yn was doing homework as Mac was yk DOING it to Yn and she just like... LET IT HAPPEN WHILE HE HA#A GIRLFRIEND. HELLO? and when Yn ends it; he's like “omg but yn... i love you...” “no. i'll only hurt you; if you're with me it'll only hur#uh okay 25k words slowburn vibes.... ANYWAYS so she takes screenshots and sends them in a SUPER big groupchat with 20+ people (including Pi#and my boyfriend) and Pie (who was childhood friends with Mac) called her out saying how it was also kind of her fault for being with a guy#who was in a relationship; but she got super defensive about it. and this same thing happened AGAIN 2ish months later with a girl Jas and#her boyfriend Ben; where Yn was friends with both but basically was emotionally cheating with Jas; leading them to break up; and then she#GOT WITH JAS. HELLO???? WHAT??? and they r still together. none of them talk to Ben even though Yn said they were 'all cool and friends'#SUREEEE GIRL SURE. KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT. and Pie called her out on this AGAIN since Pie is friends with Ben and Jas too but Yn got#defensive AGAIN! BC SHE KNOWS ITS A SHITTY THING TO DO! and Pie doesn't really like her because of it and when Pie told me all of that I wa#in shock. because Yn was trying to play the victim in the situation with Mac when she sent the messages to the gc; and tried to do that AGA#N BUT IN THE SITUATION WITH JAS LIKE NO U ARE JUST A CRAPPY PERSON ! and appearently she is SO toxic she was nearly kicked out from a#leadership role at my school's asian pacific islander club or something! like girl WAKE UP! but that's not all; so i didn't know she was#known for going for people who had partners; yet still didn't like her; and last school year (about 4 months ago) my boyfriend got a 'reall#bad haircut' (i thought it was cute; but everyone made fun of him ) and Yn RAN around our campus trying to find him to make fun of him..#like wtf that's so weird and she will post screenshots of their convos on her story and be like 'omg he's bullying me!' when he's being dry#and did that in the gc (this time; i'm in it!) and i crashed out but my bf was apologizing and saying he told her to not post anything but#she didn't listen or something i guess. and sometimes when they are wearing similar outfits she'll post on her story that they are matching#um girl he has a wife and 12 kids. back the FUCK off. and i told him to distance himself from her or set boundries cuz i don't like that n#it makes me uncomfy; so he did which is good! but i still don't like Yn. she is a major pick-me IMO and very two-faced and covers her
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i feel like not enough ppl are factoring in the cultural clash between laios and shuro and the many micro agressions shuro faced while being in their group. literally the name 'shuro' in itself is one
his name is toshiro 😭 lets also not forget that he has his own communication issues, in the opposite way that laios does- thats literally a factor in their argument, that his envy for laios's ability to express himself sincerely manifested as part of his distaste for him.
ig all this to say like, was their fight heart wrenching, especially when reading laios as autistic? absolutely. anybody whos ever been in laios's position knows how much it hurts to realize someone you thought was your friend doesnt actually like having you around, especially when they didnt tell you and you had no way of knowing due to not understanding their cues. but im begging yall to step back and see the nuance of this situation cause im gonna be real a lot of you are kinda just brushing over it acting like everything is toshiros fault and that hes a terrible person when in reality hes an average guy who really, really clashed with laios and it led to a very long misunderstanding due to their supremely opposite methods of communication. even laios and toshiro, after letting everything out in their fight, were able to come to an understanding and start a foundation for an actual friendship built on better communication
ok yknow what Edit: i shouldve made it even more explicit at the end of this post, i hadnt thought i would need to since i started the post with this, but i think a few too many people are missing my point so i just wanna clarify. i shouldnt have said 'really clashed' and left it at that because yeah they did, but it wasnt just their opposite methods of communication, it is also very much that toshiro was experiencing microaggressions via laios. it may have been unintentional on laios's part, but it still happened and wore him down, made it harder for him to communicate on top of both the more subtle social cues that he was raised with and his own communication difficulties. i also want to say that the fandom reaction to toshiro and the complete ignorance of this point is also racist tbh or at the very least ignorant. i understand that the anime did not cover this panel, and neither did the manga, as this was an omake, but im gonna be real with you guys. there are enough context clues within the story to clue you into this. if you didnt pick up on it thats ok, but i think this is a good lesson in picking up subtext in the stories that youre watching and/or reading. kui shouldnt have to explicitly say 'by the way laios was racist to toshiro' for this point to be understood, and at the very least, when the author portrays a character in a sympathetic light (as kui clearly does) it should make you question Why they are doing so and what makes them sympathetic, rather than youre immediate and only reaction to be 'well i hated what this guy did/said so i hate them and they suck'. idk exactly how to finish this, just. idk. question your biases and gut reactions to things you see in media and stories, and think about whether or not theres subtext that youre missing.
#dunmeshi#dungeon meshi#shuro dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#toshiro nakamoto#dont get me wrong i understand relating to a character and hating whoever wrongs them cause youre protective or you relate really hard#but i think toshiros been getting the short end of the stick for a long time now 😭#even his love for falin is misunderstood#he literally states all the reasons he likes her#and none of them are superficial#but hes so closed off and has such difficulty expressing himself that instead of asking her out or smth he just#proposed to her out of the blue 😭#leading a lot of ppl to just assume that he went 'white woman spotted' and proposed#do Not misunderstand me i am#a HUGE farcille stan#obviously#but i dont think toshiros feelings are surface level and i think theyre absolutely crucial to understanding him and his motivations#as a character in this story
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HELL BENT — RYOMEN SUKUNA
✧・゚ The Incubus King finally claims his intended.
( TW ) f!reader, incubus king!Sukuna, major size difference (Sukuna’s 8ft tall!), harem, group sex, fingering, cunnilingus, biting, rough sex, bleeding, forked tongues, cervix fucking, mating bonds, reader goes in some type of ‘heat’, explicit content.
word count - > 1.5k
author's note: PLS don’t take this seriously Idek what this is!! unedited + I'm trying a new writing style
Can’t stop thinking about Incubus king!Sukuna who finally finds his intended after centuries of looking. Who finds her in a place he never thought to check, the human realm. Who he kidnaps and brings down to his realm, telling you how you are to be his queen and rule his subjects alongside him. You have a mental breakdown your first week. The change of scenery, coming to terms that this is real, the differences between you and Sukuna’s species he calls Incubus. You’ve heard of them before, but you didn't think they were real—who did? They’re eight feet tall, winged creatures who liked to fuck 24/7. Half of them roam around naked and you can’t turn a hallway without catching two or more in sexual activities. So, hearing that you're some type of ‘mate’ to the king of the creatures? You think you’re dreaming. Sukuna brings you food every day and talks about how the mating bond has been activated now. How the several next week's you’re going to be restless until he ruts and claims you.
You scream and cry how this is his fault. He leans over the buffet of food and smacks your thigh with a grumble. You refuse to speak to him for the rest of the night even when he undresses and washes you. Making crude comments like how he can’t wait to breed your human body full of his offsprings. Sukana who doesn’t have the time for your refusal to talk to him for he has a kingdom to run, so he drops you off to a group of naked, pierced women who he calls his harem. He gently pushes you into one of the tall women before telling her to take care of you or else.
You can’t find it in your to be jealous of the women for being his ‘harem.’ You don’t even like Sukuna right now and the women, they’re so kind and mature that you would much rather spend your days lazing around with them than sitting on Sukuna’s lap while he laughs at his people who come to him with misfortunes. His harem teaches you all about their lands, how sex isn’t taboo instead something they need just like oxygen is to humans. How when they fuck, they release some type of energy that’s built up in their body that causes their kind to go insane and terrorize the human realm.
Sukuna’s harem who are utterly obsessed with how small you are compared to them. They used to spend their days lying around on rich cushions and blankets waiting for Sukuna but even they got bored of him—if it were up to them, they’d lock him in their room and never let him out. His harem who was supposed to be teaching you more about their king but instead chose to spend their days lazily eating you out with their long-forked tongues and fucking you dumb with their big fingers. They make you suckle their breasts and grind on their faces. They’re so gentle after, hissing at each other when one speaks too loudly after you had fallen asleep, washing your body clean, wrapping you in the softest blankets to carry you back over to your room with Sukuna. Some days they happen to catch Sukuna in his room, and they smirk and giggle when they see his jealous face. They take it as the highest compliment their queen has decided to lie with them before the king.
Incubus king!Sukuna who feels the mating bond grow stronger with every second you're in his castle. He feels himself shifting. He unable to stay away for long periods of time. He forces you to bathe with him before making you sit on his throne with him while he talks to irrelevant people, his hard cock jumping every time you move. You want to get away, moaning and grumbling how his you want to go play with his harem, it’s uncomfortable sitting on muscular thighs for hours while listening to him talk in several languages you don’t understand to people you don’t know. Sukuna who hisses and grumbles at you before going back to his subjects who kneel at the bottom of his obsidian throne.
Throughout the week you can’t help but get hornier and hornier until your unable to walk without liquids dripping down your thighs and wetting your skirts. Despite Sukuna's harem playing with you can’t help but plead and cry for him. You barely know the man but your body aches for him, for his cock, his bond. Sukuna who finally comes to see you one day. Who picks you up to set you up top of the cushions so you can watch him fuck his harem. He does everything he could think to the women, he wants to see what makes you twitch and ache and cry. By the time he’s done—hours later—you’re in a puddle of slick panting and crying how you want him. He doesn’t take you though, he can smell that you aren’t ready for him just yet, and he can’t risk injuring his mate who he’s searched for centuries. He won’t allow himself to bring you any harm, so he just holds you in his lap and makes his harem play with you until you pass out.
Sukuna whose balls deep in one of his women when he sniffs that air and smells the scent change in you. The women he’s fucking laughs when he yanks himself out of her and goes to you. He picks you up from the drenched cushion you're sitting on. You wrap your arms around his neck and sob and the feeling of his body. You try to wrap your legs around his huge frame but you’re too tired, so they just hang as he walks you back to your room, your thighs rubbing against his cock. Sukuna lays you down on the huge bed before ripping your silky dress and ding his head in between your legs. He brings you to several orgasm, but his mouth and forked tongue isn't what you want. You want his cock. You want him to fuck you pregnant while he bites you and claims you as his. You scream and kick and pull and at the pair of horns on top his head, but he just shushes you before going back to eating you out.
Sukuna finally deems you ready to take his cock but before he kisses and drags his teeth all over your body. He suckles at your breast, commenting on how you’ll be feeding him with said breasts soon. You cry out when he finally turns you ass up. You don’t even think about how much bigger he is than you, how his cock might not fit inside. Sukuna pushes your head into the blankets, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it over your pussy. You scream at him, but he ignores you enjoying the sight of your pussy against his too big cock. When he finally pushes into you scream into the pillow. You scream for more, for him to slow down, for him to breed you, for him to fuck you harder, for him to stop and let you catch a break. He’s too out of it to listen. He never knew what it would feel like to claim a mate but this? If he had any doubt the little human underneath his wasn’t his, he didn’t now. He finally felt whole. He felt your essence flowing into him, making him stronger, more aware, if he concentrated hard enough, he could feel your emotions and hear your thoughts. He fucked your impossibly harder.
Sukuna leans down and whispers for you to open, and let him in. You don’t understand what he's talking about until his cock shoots some warm liquids and you feel your cervix open. It hurts so good when he pushes deeper into you. You orgasm again before he releases his seed into you. The tension leaves your body at the feeling of his seed rushing to your womb. You’re about to succumb to the sleepiness before Sukuna jolts you awake saying this is just the beginning.
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna scenarios#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu sukuna#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#geto x reader#nanami x you#nanami smut
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Kid?
Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader A/N: I haven’t watched X-Men since I was a child, so I can’t promise this is going to be canon-compliant. I haven’t watched DP & W either, I’ve just been influenced by that one gif where Hugh Jackman shakes his head like a dog. I feel FERAL Also, I am not good at superhero names or coming up with creative powers. So you’re a mutant with matter manipulation and they call you Flux. I mean, superhero names are inherently ridiculous so I think this works. (Don’t judge me, I’m just here for the sexy man) Summary: You walk in on Logan and Jean in a compromising position and feel your heart break. You really thought he loved you, you were so wrong. (Or were you?)
It was your own fault, you should have knocked before you busted through the door. You only have yourself to blame as you struggle to catch your breath and swallow down the lump in your throat. The image of Logan standing between Jean’s bare legs is going to haunt you for a while. Their faces will keep you awake at night, cringing at yourself while you remember the humiliating moment.
You rush towards the door, a stupidly giddy skip to your step. You were a mutant, a superhuman, and getting a chance to talk to your crush should not have you giggling like a schoolgirl. Still, you’re blind to all logic when it comes to Logan.
You turn the corner, spotting the medbay and nearly ramming into the door you know he’s lurking behind. Charles had told you where to find him. Of course, you hadn’t paid attention to the odd tone of voice when he had very clearly warned you to knock. All you’d heard was Logan’s name and you’d zoned out for the rest of the conversation.
And, of course, you don’t knock. You grab the door’s handle and bust in, “Hey!” Your eyes widen and your stomach plummets with a depressing plop to the floor. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the way Jean and Logan are entangled in each other. He’s leaning over her, the muscles and veins in his neck pulsing with strain. Normally, that sight would have you nearly drooling.
Instead, all you can see is the flush on Jean’s cheeks and the way her pupils are dilated with want. Her nails are digging into his back, bare legs twined around his waist. There’s no way to misinterpret this. No way for you to later assure yourself that this was all just a misunderstanding.
The words stumble out of your mouth in a disjointed mess that even you can’t decipher. You stand there, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water before you finally get it together. “Charles,” you stutter out, his name sounding like a question. You wince and finally tear your gaze away from them. “Sorry,” you chuckle, trying to play off your hurt as humor. “Charles needs us all for a mission.”
You don’t give them a chance to respond, you slam the door closed, ignoring what you think might be someone calling your name.
You shake off the mortifying memory and groan. Your head falls into your hands and you grip at your face until the pain distracts you from the embarrassment. It’s not too hard to push it all down, to pretend what happened didn’t make your heart crumble away into nothing.
Maybe it’s because you’re a mutant that you’re so used to rejection. You’re used to constantly being disappointed by people around you. Your childhood was nothing but cruelty, your crush not liking you back can’t compare to half of what you went through.
That’s what you tell yourself, at least, to try and pretend it doesn’t hurt as much as it does. You shove it down until you think you can’t feel that dull ache anymore. And when Jean and Logan walk into the room, looking more put together, you smile at Logan like you always do. It doesn’t turn down at the corners, your eyes don’t water. You take in a deep breath and look utterly unaffected.
He sits down beside you and leans towards you. “I can explain-”
You cut him off and shake your head. “Forget about it. I should have knocked.” You turn towards Charles who wheels himself to the front of the room. You dismiss Logan and ignore the way his stare burns into the side of your head.
Charles looks to Jean and Logan, a smile starting. Then his gaze drifts towards you and your chest deflates when you see the look on his face. He knows, the old miser probably coasted over your thoughts and he knows. He sends you a sympathetic look that makes you feel like a little girl who just got told unicorns don’t exist. “Jean, Logan, glad that you’ve finally joined us.”
Logan nods and leans back in his chair. But his eyes remain fixed on you and it makes you wish you could stab a fork into them. You let out a short, irritated huff of air and frown at yourself. Maybe you were a little more angry than you would like to admit.
You blame Logan for that. You never would have fallen so deep into infatuation if you hadn’t believed there was even a sliver of a chance with him. Always speaking so kindly with you when he would barely spare anyone a second glance. Constantly doing checkups on you after a particularly harsh training session with Charles.
Your mind runs over all the small things with him, everything you’ve done together. And you’re hit with a sudden nauseating thought. Oh my god, what if he sees me paternally?
You force yourself not to physically react but inside your throwing up and fucking freaking out. You feel a sudden spark of alarm from Charles and quickly do your best to fortify your mind so he doesn’t see your major mental freakout.
You’re not that much younger than him. Well, it’s not illegal, your crush on Logan. But what if this entire time, when you’ve been falling harder and harder for him, he’s just been platonically taking care of you? You’ve seen him do it plenty of times for the younger kids, as reluctant as he is to admit it.
You’re spiraling further and further into panic. So much so that you have no idea what’s even being discussed or what’s going on. You get onto the jet and have to ask Storm what you’re doing. She gives you a confused look but tells you nonetheless. Just some recon on a potential mutant trafficking ring. Nothing out of the ordinary, as depressing as that is. There shouldn’t be much violence, which is why your group is particularly small today.
You nod your head, moving like you’re in a daze as you throw yourself onto a seat. Logan sits beside you, an alarmed look on his face. “You alright, kid?”
The nickname, which is used to make your stomach flutter, makes you want to throw up. How have you missed it for this long? It was laid out so plainly before you. Of course, he doesn’t want you. Not when he has perfect Jean. Bile rises in your throat with a vicious ferocity when you glare over at Jean.
There’s a sudden petty, vindictive rage fueling you. The type you should have abandoned in high school, especially now that you’re grown. Instead, you feel like giving into Logan’s idea of what you are. You feel like reacting to all of this petulantly.
You ignore Logan and instead catch Jean’s eyes. Slowly, and with as much intention as you can force into your gaze, you look from her to Logan and then Scott. Her eyes widen and Logan scoffs beside you. She shakes her head minutely, silently begging you not to say anything. You smile at her and stand up.
You take a step towards Scott and Logan calls out an irritated, “Kid.” You ignore him and Jean eyes you warily as you approach. She stands like she’s ready to fight you and take the jet down just to keep you quiet. You reach Scott and can hear the way Jean takes in a sharp breath.
“Scott,” he looks up at you with his brows raised. There's a pause before you speak. Dragged on too long for Scott not to realize you’re planning something.
Jean takes a step towards you and you grin, “Mind checking my cuffs?” Scott gives you an odd look and his confusion only gets worse as Jean slumps onto the seat beside him. She’s not even trying to hide her relief. Scott shakes his head and holds his hands out, fingers gently probing around the cuffs on your wrists. The ones that keep your powers in check.
You’re still new to welding them. And they’re too entwined with your emotions for you to just have free range with them. If you hadn’t had the cuffs on this morning, you’re afraid you might have just turned everything around you into nothing but dust.
“They look fine, Flux.” His tone betrays his thoughts. He doesn’t know why you’d come to him for this when it’s Charles who usually deals with it. But this stupid, petty little display wasn’t for poor oblivious Scott. It was for the woman sitting next to him. The redhead whose still drilling holes into your skull.
You’ve got leverage over her that you’ve never had before. Scott wouldn’t take her little foray with Logan very well. And all it would take is a flick of your wrist to give him a very clear image of exactly what you’d seen. Then, her picture-perfect relationship would be over in a matter of seconds. You’re sure Logan would be more than pleased. But he doesn’t seem to understand that Jean just wants to have fun with him, she’d never choose him over Scott.
“Thanks,” there’s a bite to your tone that you’re not used to. You usually keep your emotions relatively in control. That way you won’t have to wear these cuffs one day. But you feel volatile today. You’re channeling your hurt and turning it into misguided anger.
You drop your wrists to your sides and stalk toward the front, hovering behind Charle’s and Storm’s chairs so you don’t have to look at the others. It doesn’t take long for you to feel the floor trembling under heavy booted steps.
Logan’s arms rest on the headrest of the chairs, bracketing you in between them so you can’t escape. He leans forward until his chest is pushed against yours and you can feel every ridge of his muscled torso pressing into you. You try not to suck in a breath, try not to play into the cliche of instantly forgetting why you’re angry when you’re faced with those muscles of his. It is hard, though, because he’s so handsome and so warm and you just want to melt into him.
“Wanna explain what the hell that was?” His voice is so low, whispering against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. You feel the vibrations of it against your back, his tone more gravelly than it should be.
You glance over your shoulder at him, face placid and blank. “What? Just needed some help.” Storm looks over at you both and rolls her eyes.
Logan opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off. “Put a pin in the lover’s spat, we’re landing.” Using just a bit of your power, you push Logan off of you and head towards the back of the jet. There’s a slight jolt as you land and then the ramp opens up and you’re practically running into the snowy forest.
You don’t know where you are, mainly because you weren’t paying attention, you just know it's fucking freezing. The leather of your suit isn’t doing much to help fight against the chill. Charles stays on the jet and reminds you all that this is only meant to be recon. You’re partnered up with Logan, and as much as it irritates you, you’re not stupid enough to argue against it.
You have to put aside your personal grievances for this mission. You can’t risk the safety of mutants because the guy you like likes another girl. Logan seems pleased about it, stubbornly staying by your side even when you make it clear you want space.
You both linger behind the other’s as Storm leads you through the forest. Jean is being more touchy with Scott than normal. Either to assuage her own guilt or to rub it in Logan’s face, you’re not sure which. You nearly gag as you watch them whisper to one another, you glance over at Logan to see if he notices.
You’re startled when you see him already staring at you. His lips tick up into something mischievous when he catches your eye. That smug smirk on his face as he leans in towards you. “Wanna tell me what’s got you so pissed off?”
You roll your eyes and tamp down the rising tide of anger. “Nothing,” you bite out, jaw clenching the longer you stare at the back of Jean’s head. You’re surprised you haven’t chipped a tooth with how hard you’re grinding your teeth together.
He scoffs, not believing you for a second. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you an expectant stare. You can taste the words forming on your tongue, an irritating urge to just spill your guts overcoming you. Before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “I’m a little surprised that’s all.”
“Oh yeah, ‘bout what?” You hate how amused he sounds, the chuckle just lying in wait under his words. Like your anger is funny to him, like he didn’t just break your stupid fucking heart.
You stop walking, not feeling as intimidating as you want while you shiver and huddle into yourself. He seems perfectly at ease in his leather jacket and beater, still refusing to wear the uniform. He leans back and looks at you with a fondness that you can’t tell if you love or hate. “You and little Miss Perfect.” You spit the nickname with enough venom to make both of your eyes widen.
Logan rolls his eyes and takes a step towards you, again, Storm interrupts you both. “Guys, really?” Everyone turns around to stare and you will the heat in your face away. “Not the time,” she scolds and you brush past Logan to catch up with the others.
You come upon a warehouse, it’s nearly camouflaged under all the snow. You see two guards waiting outside the metal doors and you all disperse behind the trees. Storm glances towards Jean who focuses on the guards. They drop to the floor and you wave your hands, their guns melting into puddles of metal.
Logan and Scott move forward, sliding the large metal doors open. You wince at the loud screeching as the rust flakes off the sides. There’s a collective quiet as you all hold your breath, waiting for them to give the all-clear. Once they run inside and run back out, you and the others quickly get to your feet and rush into the warehouse. Logan closes the doors again as you make it inside.
“No one here?” Storm checks. Scott shakes his head and you frown. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would there be guards if there was nothing inside?
Your question is, unfortunately, answered a minute later. You find a pile of metal crates stacked on top of each other. A large beige tarp covers them. You tug at the corner, letting the fabric slide off. Your eyes flutter with disappointment, “Guys! Over here,” mutants sit inside the crates. Each of them stares at you with varying degrees of mistrust and fear.
As awful as it is, you’ve gotten used to these quiet depressing missions. There aren’t usually many mutants in one place. They don’t like to keep the product in one spot for too long. There are only four kids here. The youngest is eleven and the oldest is seventeen. There’s nothing physically telling about their abilities so you assume it must be psychic powers.
They don’t want to come with you until you all give them a demonstration of your powers. Proving that you’re not just trapping them and taking them somewhere worse. You’re nearly out the door when Charles's voice rings loudly through all of your minds.
You wince at the volume, hands coming up to grip at your hair as he shouts, “Behind you!” A gunshot rings out, something hot rips across your wrist and you gasp in pain. There’s a clatter of metal as your cuff drops to the ground, the bullet having destroyed it. Without them both, they’re useless. One won’t work without the other.
You glance up at Logan, a panicked look on your face. You can already feel the tidal wave of power thrashing and building in your chest. It’s been so long with the safety net that you forgot how bad it gets without the cuffs.
“We need to get you out of here!” He shouts over the gunfire. He herds the group behind a cluster of metal shipment boxes. It provides enough cover for you all to try and figure out an escape plan.
You listen to the other’s worried voices, each of them trying to console the kids. You don’t know their powers yet. Don’t know what might go wrong if they get too scared and can’t control their abilities.
You can’t speak, breaths coming short and fast as you clutch your wrist to your chest. You know it’s delusional, hoping that if you keep a tight grip like the cuff you might be able to control yourself. You can already feel the energy leaking out of you, the ends of everyone’s hair stands on end. The wall in front of you warps and cracks like it can’t decide if it’s liquid or solid.
You grit your teeth and look only at Storm. “You need to get out,” you force the words out. It causes physical pain to try and keep everything at bay. You can feel pressure building in your forehead, pushing out until you think you might explode.
“We’re not leaving you,” Logan snaps. There’s shouting going on behind you, a pause as they all reload their guns.
“Wasn’t a question,” you grit out. You look towards Jean and there’s a moment where you both put aside your differences. You both know how stubborn he is, how much he’ll fight against leaving you behind. Regenerative powers or not, it's dangerous to even be close to your gift now. You can see them all straining against the ebbing flow of your powers. Their skin shifts unnaturally like you’re already altering the atoms of their being.
This is why you’re only allowed to train with Charles and Jean. They can get in your head, shut it down when you can’t. You’re not sure you’re going to survive yourself. Logan glances between the two of you and practically growls at Jean, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare-”
His words trail off into an unintelligible slur as he slumps forward, Jean having knocked him out with her powers. Scott grabs him and grunts under the weight of his body. “I’ll cover you,” you gasp the words out. Anything but focusing on your powers causes physical strain that makes you feel like you’re being tugged in a hundred different directions. “Just get them out,” you nod towards the kids.
Storm nods and you slip out of cover. It isn’t hard to push your powers in one direction, to solidify the air in front of you so the bullets ricochet harmlessly off. You listen to the whine of the metal door and wait for the others to be gone.
“They’re in the jet,” Charles's voice rings out. “Don’t do this,” he warns. You can’t think of a response, you’re not even sure what you would say. You never thought you would be able to approach death this calmly, or that this would be how you die. It feels almost pathetic, dying because you lost control on a recon mission.
At least those kids are safe. It’s not a bad reason to die. Just not great. You glance down at the other cuff on your right hand, the air around it fluctuates until it melts off your wrist like liquid metal. With the last barely there tether off your powers, you close your eyes and release the tidal wave.
It feels like a dam exploding. It doesn’t leak fluidly from you, it rips through you like a hailstorm of knives. Tears apart anything in its path and rewrites the molecular build of everything in its path. Screams echo through the air as men’s bones turn into brittle dust and their hearts morph into something inorganic. You’re blind to everything around you, vision clouded by the horrific release of energy.
You can feel warmth leaking down your face. Blood still pours from the wound on your wrist, and fresh blood from other wounds you can’t even feel. You don’t know when the screams stop, or when you’re finally drained. But you feel like an empty husk as you drop to the floor, your head bouncing harshly against the cement as everything goes black.
“I’m gonna kill you,” Logan says with a grin, glaring at Scott even though it’s Charles who is holding him back. He’s got a firm mental grasp on Logan, keeping him locked into place while he focuses on the warehouse.
They’re waiting for the all-clear. The others know there’s always the possibility that they’re going to be collecting a body. But none of them are willing to say that, not with the look on Logan’s face. His muscles look ready to pop out of his skin with how much he’s fighting against Charles’s hold.
Scott backs away from Logan with a scoff. He stands near Jean, but she can’t take her eyes off the restrained man. Nothing had happened this morning, Flux had seen to that. Interrupting them just as they’d started. Seeing the way he’s acting now, she’s starting to believe that nothing is ever going to happen.
He’d looked like he was about to dismiss her when she started making a move. She can see the anger on his face, it seems he’s only ever pissed off. But underneath that, as much as he hides it, she can see the fear. He’s terrified that they're going to walk in there and you’re going to be dead.
Jean can feel the fear of the others as well. They’ve only seen you lose control once and that had almost leveled the mansion. Charles had stopped you then, but the loss of the cuff had been so sudden Jean just barely had enough strength to keep the others blocked from your powers. She didn’t have enough time to shut you down.
Jean, as much as she’s tried to deny it and dismiss her suspicions, can’t look Logan in the eye and ignore it anymore. It’s never been her that he’s wanted. The way he trails along beside you, always prodding and poking until you’re pissy and mouthing off. It’s not done because he finds antagonizing people fun, it's because he loves seeing you all worked up and passionate. He doesn’t view you through the same platonic lens he does the others. You’re something else to him, something she doesn’t want to name, afraid of the bitter taste it will leave on her tongue.
Charles slumps back in his chair and Logan suddenly lunges forward. He looks a little surprised by the sudden freedom of movement, but before any of them can stop him he’s running out of the jet. “Logan,” Jean tries to call after him but he’s already a distant blur.
Scott sighs and starts down the ramp. “Come on,” he mutters. He’s the last one who should be coming along. If anything is wrong with you, he’ll end up being Logan’s punching bag. Jean follows reluctantly, she’s not sure she wants to see what’s happened.
Your powers are too similar in their volatile nature. The way they rule you and come so close to destroying you when you use them too much, is too familiar to Jean. She doesn’t want to see you lying dead on the floor and be reminded of her own mortality. But someone needs to make sure Logan is stuck on a leash.
They reach where the warehouse should be. It’s nothing but a pile of rubble now. Throughout the wreckage, Jean can make out odd pools of liquid, some writhing, others still. She can only assume that these had been the men shooting at them. She doesn’t see your body, none of them do. But Logan isn’t giving up.
He lifts different pieces of metal and tosses them off into the forest. Jean doesn’t sense your presence anywhere but she doesn’t have the heart to tell Logan to give up. After a few minutes of searching, she almost tells him to quit. But she can’t see him anymore. He’s disappeared somewhere behind a particularly large pile of roofing. A moment later, Logan stands up. His jacket is gone, wrapped around the body in his arms. None of them are close enough to see if you’re breathing. And he doesn’t say a word as he brushes past them, just keeps going back to the jet. Ororo, Scott, and Jean all share a silent look. None of them prepared for the potential fallout that’s going to happen after this.
The first thing you feel is two familiar bands of metal around your wrists. The comforting feeling of the cuffs is enough to have you sinking further into the pillows surrounding you. Then you hear the beeping in your ear, feel the cool blow of AC, and become startlingly aware of the fact that you’re in a bed you don’t recognize.
You groan, eyes peeling open painfully as your lashes get stuck on your skin. You reach up to rub at your face but your arms feel too weak to lift. You give up on the thought, instead staring up at the ceiling and waiting for your vision to refocus.
A throat clears in front of you and you nearly jump out of your skin. Sitting at the end of your bed, arms crossed and a fierce glare on his face is Logan. His feet are propped up on the small table beside you. He quirks a brow and gives you a sardonic grin, “Finally awake, princess?”
Normally the name would have you up and doing somersaults, but there’s something distinctly negative and disappointed lacing his tone. It squashes any and all butterflies in your stomach. You grimace as you try and sit up. Logan is up in an instant, an annoyed look still on his face as he helps you up.
You can’t help your dopey smile at how gentle his hands are on you. Even pissed off, he treats you so kindly. Maybe it’s the drugs relaxing you, or the fact that you almost died, but you can’t remember whatever made you mad at him. You can only feel the slide of his calloused hands against your arms, the way you shiver under his touch and crave more.
He pulls the chair closer to you with a loud scratch of metal feet on the linoleum. You groan at the loud sound and he huffs, throwing himself down in the seat. “How do you feel?”
Your head sinks back against the wall and you finally realize you’re in the medbay. It’s why everything smells so sterile. “Like I got hit by a semi.”
He barely lets you finish your thought before he spits out, “What the fuck were you thinking?” He doesn’t ease you into this at all and you frown. You’re not sure why you would expect him to ever beat around the bush. That’s not his style, he’s always been blunt. Even when others wish he wouldn’t be.
“What else was I supposed to do?” You ask, voice weak. Your throat feels like it’s been ripped apart. Idly, you wonder if you had been screaming in the warehouse or if this was just general strain from the whole ordeal.
“Not put yourself at risk like that.” He leans forward, voice stern and bordering on shouting. You know he’s holding back. As much as he wants to lay into you right now, he’s stopping himself from going completely out of his mind. You appreciate it, but you almost wish he would just yell at you. You wish you had a reason to resent him, to finally get over him. “Not have Jean knock me out like that. You don’t get to make those decisions for me.”
It’s completely inappropriate and horrible timing, but you can’t help but scoff at the mention of Jean’s name. Can you not have one conversation that’s not tainted by the mention of the redhead?
Logan’s mouth snaps shut and he glares at you in disbelief. You squeeze your eyes shut, not willing to face him as embarrassment washes over you. No wonder he always calls you kid. You’re not exactly acting like an adult. You’re being a brat and for such a stupid reason too.
Just because you like him doesn’t mean he has to reciprocate. You can’t just force your feelings on someone. “Logan,” you whisper his name, “Sorry. I’m sorry-”
He cuts you off before you can finish. Some of the anger, but not all, has ebbed from his expression. He almost looks like he’s smiling. “Jean? That’s what this is about? Jealous or something, sweetheart?”
You sputter, shocked little noises leaving you but no words. After a solid minute of restarting a sentence you don’t know how to end you finally land on a squeaky, “Who?” If you weren’t so mortified, you might have just thrown yourself out the window. Out of every cop-out you could have gone with you chose to just pretend you didn’t know who she was. Maybe you could make this work, like selective amnesia.
Your shame only builds as Logan laughs. You cover your face and wish you could bury yourself six feet deep and never come up. You feel two rough hands wrap around your wrists, tugging your own away from your face. You don’t have the energy to fight back, so you keep your eyes on his chin. Too afraid to meet his gaze.
“Come on,” he mutters, gently nudging your chin up until you’re forced to look at him. You're caught off guard by the look in his eyes. You recognize it, but you’d only ever seen it directed at Jean. It’s the same way you’ve always looked at him. Pure unguarded want and desire.
The hand on your chin drifts back, fingers tangling in your hair and gently resting on your jaw. He tugs you forward until your lips are nearly touching, breaths mingling with every exhale. “Only ever wanted you, darlin'.’”
The kiss catches you off guard. It shouldn’t, deep down you knew it was coming, but the intensity behind it, the way you can practically taste how bad he wants this, wants you, catches you off guard. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting yourself melt into his hold.
His free hand drifts to your waist and clutches the flimsy hospital gown until you hear it tear. You part your lips, deepening the kiss so you can finally taste him. It’s cigars and whiskey, something you should hate but is entirely intoxicating when he’s holding you so tightly. Fireworks are going off in your mind, sparks darting between your fingers as the cuffs struggle to contain all the energy suddenly pushing out of you.
He can feel you holding back, squeezing you like it’s a promise he can take it. Take everything you throw at him. You let go as much as your cuffs will allow you. Let the energy blanket you both so you can’t hear your heart monitor going off like crazy. So you don’t feel anything other than each other. You think you’re going to devour each other like you’ll just keep kissing until neither of you can take it anymore. You don’t want to let go of him, don’t want to lose this moment.
But you have to breathe. You don’t get to just keep living the way he does. You pull away from him slowly, every part of you dreading separating from him. His forehead drops against your own, his laughter playing along your lips as he finally hears the monitor going haywire.
You groan, flicking your wrist and shutting it off so it can’t betray how flustered you are anymore. He gently nudges you aside so he can sit beside you on the bed. You don’t waste a second before you’re draping yourself across his chest and siphoning his warmth. He chuckles, arms coming up to wrap around you.
“Can’t believe you were jealous of Jean.”
“Shut up,” you snipe. You look up at him and glare, “How else do you explain what you two were doing?”
He leans forward and gives you a smug grin. “She came onto me, sweetheart.” Your face screws up in distaste and jealousy. She’s going to need to learn to keep her hands to herself. He seems to feel the way you tense up, he huffs in amusement and rubs your back. “Relax, you’re gonna blow your fuse again.”
You glance down at your wrists and nuzzle further into him. You can’t believe you could have been laying on him this whole time. You never want to use a blanket again, not when you’ve got him. “I’ll be fine now that I’ve got my cuffs.”
His hand stills on your bicep. He squeezes it before his hand drifts up to your chin and he tilts your face up again. “I don’t ever want to see that again.” You’re a little surprised by the sudden shift in tone, but you knew this was coming.
“I had to, Logan. I either took you all down with me or I went on my own.”
Logan frowns and takes in a deep breath. You place a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He smiles down at you, “Next time, take me with you. I’m not fucking dealing with Summers without you.”
You can’t help but chuckle. Your face grows warm and your chest expands with some odd gleeful feeling as he laces your fingers together. “Deal,” you whisper, still smiling at him.
A/N: Okay, this might be shit, I’m not sure. I sort of rushed the ending because as I was writing this I had another idea for him. I guess I’m officially off my hiatus.
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#wolverine x reader#Wolverine x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x you#x men#deadpool and wolverine#Wolverine
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bsf!rafe who's wrapped around your finger, who doesn't care when his friends tease him about being whipped for you. who comes to your every beck and call, looking for any way to make your life easier, because that's his only reason for existing. to make your life better.
bsf!rafe who's hopelessly in love with you, always on the verge of confessing to you but never having the courage to do so. who spoils you with anything and everything you ever wanted. who makes a fool of himself following you around in the hopes that you love him the same way but always knowing you don't.
at a party, he spots you with your friends and he gets up, habitually getting you something to drink. he stalks closer to you with your favorite drink in a solo cup, listening to your friends.
"he follows you around all the time. i don't get how you don't get annoyed of him." your friend says, laughing.
"seriously, it's like watching a puppy begging for attention." another added, giving you a look. "it's pathetic."
and all you do is laugh in response.
he can't find it in himself to get hurt because it is the truth. he craved your attention so badly that he practically preened whenever you gave him a bit of it. rafe's so wrapped up in you that he couldn't even fault you for not defending him.
he waits a few minutes before he walks over and hands you the drink, pretending as if he's heard nothing. he melts when you give him a smile and a kiss on his cheek, mind blanking as your soft, soft lips touch his skin. you thank him, dismissing him with a hand and he reluctantly makes his way back to topper and kelce.
bsf!rafe who's bored at the party and somehow ends up talking to sofia, a waitress at the country club. he doesn't look at her when she talks, observing the party from the balcony, everything she's saying going in one ear and out the other.
he doesn't even register her touching his arm, pulling away when he sees you staring at him, your eyes drifting to the hand on his arm. he excuses himself from her, needing to be in your presence before his anxiety gets to him. needing you to soothe his worries away; worries that came from being away from you.
bsf!rafe who sees you talking with sofia instead, hides behind a tree like a creepy stalker whilst he eavesdrops for the second time that night, peeking from the side of the tree to look at you.
"do you like rafe, sofia?" you ask, voice sweet, smile even sweeter. your eyes glint with something unfamiliar as sofia nods.
"i mean, he's cute—"
you giggle, touching sofia's hair and for a second, he wonders if you were going to kiss her, jealously bubbling in his stomach. he hated watching you kiss other people, even if it was a pogue who didn't deserve a lick of your attention.
within a second, your smile drops and you glare at her. without a word, you brought your fist to your eye, punching it hard. sofia gasped in shock, unable to move as she watched you repeat the same motion three more times.
"help! someone help!" you call out with a saccharine smirk on your face, your tone not matching your words. you hold a hand to your reddening eye as people come.
rafe emerges from his hiding spot, concerned and shocked, taking you in his arms and examining your eye. people came, the music turned off as people rallied behind you, eyes glancing between you and sofia.
"that bitch hit me! someone call the cops!" you wailed out, burying your face against rafe's chest.
bsf!rafe who shields you with his arms, eyes narrowing at sofia as someone calls the cops. his mind is spinning, confused but mostly concerned for your wellbeing. he comforts you, kissing your eye in hopes it wouldn't bruise over, but with the big emerald ring on your finger—the one he had gotten you for your friendiversary—he knew it would turn blue by the end of the night.
bsf!rafe who holds you as you tell the cops what happened, sniffling and touching your eye. who listens as you tell them about sofia getting violent and hitting you until you called out for help.
bsf!rafe who saw the whole thing but lied, telling the officer the same thing you did, earning a soft smile from you. who watched you watch sofia getting cuffed and thrown in the police car with a small smirk on your lips and possessiveness in your eyes.
you stare up at him as soon as the police car is out of view, wrapping your arms around his neck. "thank you, rafey. for helping me."
bsf!rafe who will always look out for you, taking your side against others. who you keep on a short leash, never wanting his love but always using it to make yourself happy.
"anything for you," he replies, smiling.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey#outer banks#obx#bsf!rafe#toxic!reader
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HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!
thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.
he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.
he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.
but he couldn’t take everything lying down.
did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?
he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.
he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.
he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.
but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.
but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.
simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.
and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?
you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.
the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.
and all the signs pointed to you.
and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.
price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.
johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.
then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.
simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.
maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.
but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.
all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.
and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.
so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.
and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.
even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.
he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.
but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.
the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.
it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.
the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.
“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.
“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”
simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.
“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”
“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”
price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.
“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”
“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.
price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”
the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.
he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.
“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.
price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”
simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.
“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”
they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.
pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.
although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.
but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.
an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.
you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.
damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.
you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.
he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.
‘you should have killed me.’
maybe he should have.
thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—
im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!
as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)
#cod mw2 fic#captain john price#gaz call of duty#soap call of duty#ghost call of duty#captain price#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#johnny mactavish#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#John price#simon riley x gn reader#simon riley angst#ghost x gn reader#ghost x you#ghost angst#ghost x reader#ghost cod#141!reader#141 x reader#task force 141
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diet pepsi - ln4 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where you and Lando have a rather interesting way of resolving an argument.
Pairing: lando norris x fwb!reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: kinda cute ass fighting so fluff??, sex in a car, fingering, penetration, manhandling, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it!!), cursing, minords dni!!
Request: “okay but what about good old car sex with lando pleaseeee”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, who knew addison rae had the power to make a song that made me write this whole thing under 3 hours?? i certainly did not. secondly, i thought it would be nice to take a little break from the charles-carlos drama, and before i finish the third and final part to that little mini-series, i thought you guys would enjoy a little treat in the meantime! i have to admit writing for lando again was an interesting experience for me, but who knows, maybe i'll do it more often (i have one request that i'm obsessed with so that’s definitely coming your way as well!) also, i have an oscar fic in the works as well, so maybe the sudden change in mclaren also started to affect me lol. a quick psa, i know many people asked me in my last fic, but i do NOT have a taglist and i won’t be making one any time soon either! anywaaays, i hope you guys enjoy this fic, and feedback is welcome as always! thank you to the anon for their request, and good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
“I can’t believe you’re drinking that in my car.” Lando complains, shooting you a sideway glare as you sip your choice of beverage contently.
You tilt the cup slightly in his direction, grinning. “Relax, it’s not like it’s going to explode, nor it is your car.”
“It might as well,” Lando mutters, eyes back on the road. “Knowing your luck, the second I hit a bump, that thing will be all over the place and I’ll have to explain what happened to Zak. Do you even know how much it costs to clean these seats?”
You laugh, swirling the drink in the cup. “You’re being dramatic, it’s not like you are the one to detail the cars you use. It’s fine, I’ve got this under control.”
“Famous last words,” Lando grumbles. His grip tightens on the steering wheel as if he’s preparing for impact.
You glance at him, amused. “Are you always this paranoid about your car, or is it just me?”
“It’s you. Definitely you.” He shoots you another look, this one laced with mock suspicion. “You have a history, you know.”
“Oh, puh-lease,” you drawl, rolling your eyes as you turn your upper body to face him. “Tell me one time I actually made a mess in your car, and I’ll throw away this can right now.”
Lando doesn't hesitate as he answers quickly. “Monaco. Last year. You remember that smoothie incident, right?”
You blink a couple of times, taken aback. “That doesn’t count! That was your fault for speeding around the corner like a maniac. How was I supposed to hold on to it?”
He smirks, clearly enjoying the memory. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh? You were the one who insisted on bringing a smoothie into my car five minutes before a race.”
“You didn’t even have to brake so hard,” you mutter, crossing your arms defensively. “I had it under control until you decided to turn it into a F1 race.”
Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter. I still won, throw it away now.”
“That doesn’t count, it was clearly your fault!” You complain, holding the can protectively. “There’s no way I’m tossing this because of your bad driving.”
Lando laughs, shaking his head. “Bad driving? I think I’d take that up with the people who hired me to race professionally.”
“Professionally doesn’t mean you’re not reckless,” you quip, a playful glint in your eyes. “Especially when there’s a smoothie involved.”
“Fine,” he contends, shrugging, “how about that time I made you come too hard, and you leaked onto the seats?”
This manages to shut you down for a moment, with eyes nearly bulging out of your head, you gasp at Lando’s sudden choice of words. “Lando!” You exclaim, reaching over the console to hit him on the arm gently, “That’s vulgar!”
Silently chuckling at your reaction, he reaches over as he places a hand on your upper thigh, his hand tightening as you hold his wrist in warning. “It’s the truth,” he reminds you with a smirk, “don’t go shy on me, now, you were the one to get the seats all messed up because of how wet you were.” If you weren’t blushing before, your face most definitely resembles a tomato now as he continues his stream of consciousness, “Not that I’m complaining, though, I’m pretty sure I came in my pants when I made you cum just from my fingers.”
“You– you did?” The question flies from your mouth before you can stop yourself.
The smile that overtakes the smirk on Lando’s face is almost sweet, and he coos at the innocence of your question as he squeezes your thigh again. “Oh baby,” he coos, “it was the hottest thing ever.”
Your thighs attempt to trap his hand as you inadvertently press them tighter together, your nose scrunching up in confusion. “But it was messy.”
“That was the best part,” Lando confirms, his thumb caressing your skin. “I loved getting to clean you up afterwards, didn’t I? Almost as much as you loved it.”
“Sure.” You mumble, shrugging as you do your best to ignore his burning stare. You’d be worried about the fact that he was supposed to be driving if it was someone else, but considering he’s a F1 driver, you don’t comment on Lando’s lack of his surroundings as he pushes your thighs apart. “What are you doing?” You ask, confused as he moves his fingers further up your skirt.
“You just focus on finishing that drink, okay?” He mumbles as his fingers pull your underwear to the side. “I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet myself.”
“Lando, I don’t think we should do th–hat.” Your voice waivers towards the end as his fingertips press on your clit, drawing lax circles on the bundle of nerves. “Lando,” you try to warn him, but your voice comes out as a high-pitched whimper.
He shushes you gently as his fingers spread your wetness around your skin, causing you to bite down on your lip to silence yourself. Lando lets his dissent known by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling, “Don’t silence yourself, let me hear you, baby.” And when you give him what he wants and let out a loud moan as your hips involuntarily buck against his hand. Grinding the palm of his hand against your puffy clit, Lando uses your wetness to slowly push two of his fingers into you, drawing out another moan as you lean your head against the headrest. “My God, baby, look at you. You’re already making a mess on the seats.”
“N-no,” you manage to whine, shaking your head as you give him a pleading but stubborn look, “I’m not making a mess.”
“No?” He asks, mocking the pout that has found its way onto your lips. “Then who is so wet against my hand that it’s dripping, huh?” You're not sure if it’s his words or the way his fingers keep moving in and out of your cunt, but in either case, the overwhelming need of just something more causes you to attempt to put the can in your hand down, when Lando tuts again in warning, “You don’t get to put your drink down until you first come on my fingers.”
After his words set in, you finally come to your senses, suddenly opening your eyes as you give him a shocked look. “Wha–what?” You ask, “What if I spill?”
He shrugs, an innocent smile on his lips as he throws you a glance, “I guess you’ll just have to be careful and not spill it.” The smile on his lips grows as you let out a frustrated sound, and he responds by moving his fingers in a come-hither motion to git the spot, which causes your body to arch into his touch. “Are you going to give me what I want?” He asks, his concentration still on the road as he tries to find a secluded spot to park the car.
“Uh-huh,” you mutter, voice shaky as you focus on not dropping the can in your hand, “I will, Lando, just keep doing that.”
“Doing what?” He asks in a faux-innocent tone, as he goes back to simply continuing the pistoning movement of his fingers. “Like this?” He asks, with a shit eating grin on his face as you whine. “Or, like this?” He asks again, but this time, he repeats the movement of his fingers previously as he hits your g-spot again.
You can’t control the scream that gets released from the back of your throat as your body shakes violently. “That,” you breathe out, your free hand holding onto the seatbelt so tight that you can feel it starting to cramp your hand a little bit, “don’t you dare stop doing that.”
Lando lets out a low chuckle, clearly satisfied with your desperate plea. His fingers continue their relentless pace, teasing and coaxing you closer to the edge. “Oh, I won’t stop,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet commanding. “Not until you give me what I want.”
Your entire body feels like it's on fire, the combination of his skilled fingers and the impossible task of not spilling your drink has you teetering on the edge. The car feels smaller, the world outside irrelevant, as Lando’s attention is focused solely on you. Being so consumed by the way Lando’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, you don’t even know that the car you are in at the moment has been abandoned in the side of a deserted road. You grip the can tighter, your hand trembling as the tension builds in your core. “Lando,” you gasp, a hint of desperation seeping into your voice. “I— I can't—”
He smirks, enjoying your struggle. “You can,” he counters smoothly, leaning slightly closer while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “You can do it, just let it go, baby.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, drawing another loud moan from your lips.
“Lando, please,” you beg, your voice almost cracking under the weight of your impending release. “I’m going to—”
“Good,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening. “Let go for me, baby. And don't you dare spill that drink."
His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure.
His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure.
You hear Lando’s satisfied chuckle as he eases his fingers out of you, giving your thigh one last affectionate squeeze. “Good girl,” he murmurs, glancing over at you with a proud smile. “Look at how good you look.” He shamelessly holds his fingers in front of your face, then without missing a beat, he brings his fingers into his mouth. The way he moans is nothing short of sinful, and you watch him with your lips parted as he mumbles around his fingers, “I think you spilled it a little bit.”
“E-Excuse me?” You stutter, looking at Lando with the horrified look on your face. “No, I didn’t!”
Lando raises an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering as he glances down at the mess on the seat. “Oh, but you did,” he teases, licking his lips after savoring the taste of you on his fingers. His eyes gleam with amusement as he points at the spot between your legs. “Not the drink, though… you.”
Your face burns with a mix of embarrassment and desire, your breath still uneven as you try to process what just happened. “That’s not what I—” you stammer, crossing your arms over your chest, but Lando just laughs softly.
“Relax, love. It’s nothing a little cleaning can’t fix.” He leans back in his seat, eyes never leaving you, his hand returning to the steering wheel like what just happened was the most normal thing in the world. “Besides, I’d much rather clean you up later.”
You feel the heat spread through your body again, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel a wave of arousal wash over you. Lando’s confidence, the way he handles you with such ease, is almost intoxicating. But as much as you’re enjoying the moment, a small part of you knows this is ridiculous.
“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, trying to regain some composure, though your flushed cheeks give you away.
Lando just grins, completely unbothered. “You love it,” he says casually, shooting you another one of those playful sideway glances that makes your heart race. “Admit it. You like when I make you lose control.”
You bite your lip, fighting the urge to throw a retort his way. But you can’t deny it, not after the way your body reacted to his touch. “You’re lucky you’re good at this,” you finally concede, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando’s smile softens, just for a moment. “Good at a lot of things,” he says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. Then he pulls the car to a stop, turning off the engine before leaning toward you, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “And I’m just getting started.”
#monzabee#requests open#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#formula 1#fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#imagine#fluff#angst#smut#lando norris fluff#lando norris smut
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One More Night
Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: +18, friends with benefits, idiots in love, unspoken feelings, miscommunication/misunderstandings, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 3.4K
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
It is one of those days when you feel absolutely worthless. It wasn’t something you felt often before but now…. It is starting to feel like your new normal. You know it’s your fault, and it just makes you feel even worse. You let this happen when you let Bucky Barnes walk into your life without any consequences. Now he just has a free pass to destroy you anytime he wants.
It was supposed to be just fun. Something casual because you know he has no intention of settling down. Especially not with you. Not that he said any of those words but he doesn’t need to. You just know it.
He’s one of the popular guys in your college. It’s not surprising considering how handsome and charming he is. He’s also talented and hard-working. He takes school seriously unlike a lot of people around you. So when it comes to his free time, he just wants to have some fun, no strings attached and you were fine with this arrangement. You wanted to be close to him and this is the price: Your heart breaks every time.
You don’t blame him but you definitely blame yourself because you put yourself in this position. If you weren’t so pathetic, you could simply say no and this regularly hooking-up arrangement of yours would have ended. Yet you never said no and he never stopped coming back to you. Probably because it’s convenient, you can’t come up with any other reason. Like who says no to an easy fuck, right? That is what you are. An easy fuck. Still, it’s breaking your heart every time he leaves your bed. You say to yourself “This is gonna be the last time” but when the next text or call comes, you fold once again.
That’s how you ended up here. Your face is buried in the pillow while Bucky is pounding you from behind. It feels good. Actually, it feels pretty amazing. It always does but this time your emotions are overshadowing the physical pleasure. Tears are streaming down your face and you are grateful that he can’t see it thanks to this position. Then a sob escapes your mouth and you feel betrayed by your own body.
“Does it feel that good, doll?” He sounds smug but you can’t answer him. Not while trying to hold the rest of your sobs back. That seems to worry him. He suddenly stops and when he takes a closer look sees that your eyes are filled with tears.
“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” He sounds genuinely worried. You try to say something but instead, more sobs come out. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”
He didn’t physically hurt you, yet you are hurt. You don’t know how to explain this to him. You feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. You pride yourself on how good you are at hiding your emotions. You don’t want anyone to see you cry. You don’t want anyone’s pity. Yet here you are. Eyes filled with tears, sobs escaping your lips and your heart is shattered.
“Please talk to me!” His desperate tone snaps you out of your thoughts. You try to turn on your back and quickly dry your tears.
“It’s fine. Sorry for killing the mood. I just…” You hesitate for a second but no, you won’t back down this time. “I just can’t do this anymore.”
“That’s fine.” That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “You know it’s okay right?” His worry is so apparent in his voice. “You can always tell me to stop.” What is he talking about? “If you don’t like something or you don’t feel like it anymore… Just tell me next time and I will just stop.”
“There’s no next time Bucky.” The words come out of your mouth before you can process them. You didn’t intend to be so harsh but it came out so definite.
“What?”
“I’m telling you that I can’t do this…” You wave your hand between you two. “...anymore. I’m done. We are done.”
“What…” He sounds shocked and hurt at the same time. You try to avoid looking at his eyes while he struggles to find the right words. “What are you talking about? Did I do something?”
“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault.” You have no intention to blame him. You know it’s on you. He never promised you anything.
“I don’t understand.” He sounds so lost. “Just help me understand what happened, okay? I thought everything was okay.”
“They were, for you. It was never okay for me.”
You watch how his expression changes into something that breaks your heart even more. You never thought he would care this much but… apparently, he does. Maybe he’s not used to being rejected. Especially in the middle of sex.
“I… I don’t know what to say.” He looks at your face and then around. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?” You repeat his words without missing a beat. “I never wanted this. This is what you wanted and that’s why we kept doing it. I was just…” You hesitate for a second because you hate to admit it. “weak.”
“Weak? You are never weak.”
“Oh, I am weak. This is why I kept saying ‘one more night’ to myself whenever you called or texted me. I’m weak as fuck and it makes me angry, okay? I shouldn’t be like this.”
“Doll, what are you talking about?”
His confusion confuses you as well. Can’t he see how much he’s hurting you? Is he really that blind or maybe he just doesn’t care.
“This arrangement might be working for you but it’s not working for me, okay?”
“But… this is what you wanted.”
“I never wanted this.”
“You said we can’t get emotions involved!” He sounds somewhat angry this time.
“Because you didn’t want emotions involved!” Your answer comes instantly.
“When did I ever say that?”
His question makes you stop for a second. He never said that but did he really have to? You know how popular he is. Everybody loves him. He has the prettiest face you have ever seen. You desperately wanted to be with him. You didn’t care how.
“Just look at you.”
“What does that even mean?” Is he doing this on purpose? He surely knows everybody wants him. Why does he have to hear it from you?
“It means you didn’t have to say it.”
“How does… I really don’t understand you.” His confusion is written all over his face. The way he hesitates makes you realize you have to say it out loud to make him understand.
“You are handsome. You are talented. Everybody loves you.” He keeps looking at you with confusion. He really doesn’t get it, does he? “You can have anybody you want!”
“Apparently not.” Why does he sound broken?
“Oh, come on!” Your reaction is instant. “You know you can. Don’t act humble. I’m just easier.”
“Easier?” You don’t miss the disbelief in his voice. “Easier?” This time it comes out more angry. “You were never easy!”
“You know what I mean. An easy fu-”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” The tone of his voice startles you. You never heard him talk like this. “I never wanted just an easy fuck. Especially not with you but that was all I could get!” Your head flinches back slightly. What is he talking about?
“Bucky…” He doesn’t let you continue.
“I don’t know what has gotten into you because this… what you called it? Arrangement, yes, was never my idea! You were the one who didn’t want to involve emotions. You were the one who said anything more than this would affect our friendship. I never said that!”
“I was trying to protect myself!”
“You never showed any interest to me!”
You blink a couple of times, trying to process that information. What did he think you were doing with him?
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You never showed any interest in staying over. You never wanted to do anything outside the bedroom or wherever the fuck we were fucking. Whenever I tried to take you on a date, you came up with a lazy excuse.”
“Uh… what?”
“I tried so many times, sweetheart. You never let me in. You were only interested in sex and now you are blaming me for it. No. Be honest. If you wanna end this thing, it’s fine. You don’t need any lies. I get it. I knew it would happen eventually.” He’s speaking so fast, you can’t even find any opportunity to interrupt him until he stops.
“You tried to take me on dates?” He squishes his eyebrows together like he can’t believe you are focusing on that part.
“Many times. I suggested study dates, tried to take you on that concert, then that one comedy club thing…”
“I thought…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence.
“You thought what? You knew what I was trying to do and you weren’t interested, so I finally gave up.”
“No, no, no.” You jump from your awkward position on the bed. “I never realized.”
“What did you think I was doing?”
“I thought… they were activities with other… people. Not dates.”
“Why would I take other people to a concert with us?” Oh, he really doesn’t get it.
“I thought… you had plans with your friends and… you were… inviting me as well. Just to show… we are nothing more than friends.”
“Oh, dear god.” He covers his face with both of his hands. “Seriously? Why would you even think that?”
You mimic him and cover your face with embarrassment. You don’t want to say it. Especially not to him.
“I… just never thought…” You don’t know how to say it without making him realize how low you think of yourself. “You were interested in anything more than sex.”
“I’m handsome. I’m popular. Everybody loves me. Is that why?” He repeats your words with that god-awful mocking tone and it hurts to hear. What you don’t realize is that he’s making fun of himself.
“Yeah.” Your response comes out so weakly but he hears it.
He starts to laugh all of a sudden and all you can do is give him a confused look.
“God you are so blind.”
“Hey!” You instantly respond.
“Have you ever looked in the mirror?” You make a face but it just spurs him. “You are gorgeous and smart. I always thought you were way out of my league.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You are out of my league.”
“Come on… That’s-” He interrupts you again.
“Please.” The way he says it makes you stop talking. “I have been struggling to come to terms with you not liking me. I just told myself, you have done everything you can. You tried so many times. It’s a miracle she still wants to fuck you. I convinced myself this was all I could get so I tried to make peace with it. Now you are telling me you don’t want to keep doing this. What did you think I was gonna think?”
He just baffles you with every word coming out of his mouth. You look at him, not knowing what to say or what to think, even.
“And you thought you were just an easy fuck? Jesus, doll. Do you have any idea how many times I prepared myself for rejection? Every time I called you, I thought you weren’t gonna pick up. Every time I texted you, I prepared myself to hear ‘no’, and every time it did not come, I was the happiest man on earth because I had one more night with you!”
You don’t know when it started but you start to feel tears filling your eyes.
“Please don’t cry anymore.” He moves his hand on your face and catches a tear before it drops on your cheeks.
“I…” It’s so hard to speak normally. “I never thought…”
“What?” This time it comes out softer. You know he wants to hear it because he needs that assurance as much as you do.
“You would actually like me.”
“Like you? Oh, doll… I don’t like you. The word like doesn’t even cover it.” The smile he gives you ignites something inside you. Something you tried to push down for a long time. Suddenly you push him back a little bit and his mouth falls open but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything. You just sit on his lap, taking him back inside you and it slips right back in so easily. It makes you want to moan out loud but instead, you wrap your legs around his torso and trap him there.
“Oh fuck…” His moan is like music to your ears. It’s so raw and unfiltered.
You don’t say anything. Your hand wraps around his neck before you start to move. His hand quickly finds your breasts, squeezing them a lot harder than he ever did before.
“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your neck and his lips attach to your neck as if he knows what you want. He starts gently. First, he sucks the skin and makes you whimper. Then his teeth graze the sore skin. When he finally bites the same spot, you realize he was just giving you some time to protest but it never came. His bite pulls a groan out of you and the way it hurts falters your rhythm.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He licks the same spot, trying to soothe the pain. “There’s a part of me…” He tries to find the right word. “...that wants to mark you. Show the world that you’re mine.” Fuck, is he serious? He stops for another second to ask “Are you mine, doll?” He sounds so nervous yet possessive.
“I am.” You move a little back and look into his eyes while saying that. “I have been for a long time.”
He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, making you burn with passion.
“I’m yours, too. I think I always have been.”
It’s your turn to show how much those words mean to you. You start to move again on his lap. This time it’s faster than before and it just makes both of you moan loudly. He wraps his arms around your body while he supports your movement by grabbing your ass and moving you a bit faster than before.
“Shit!” It feels good but it also restricts your range of movement and he realizes it quickly.
“Sorry. I just want to feel you all over me.”
You want to say it’s alright but he’s a lot faster than you. Suddenly you find yourself on your back. Bucky’s still between your legs. He never left inside you while changing the position.
“Wrap your legs around me, baby.”
God, the way he says it sounds like a soft order. You can practically feel the desire running through your veins. Your legs are automatically wrapped around his ass while he starts to move but he doesn’t put any distance between you. His whole body is pressed against yours while he’s kissing and licking all over your neck.
Sex with Bucky never felt like this. It was always good. You don’t remember any occasion you didn’t enjoy it or reach orgasm. Yet this feels like real intimacy. The way he’s making you feel is indescribable. You can feel everything he said before while he moves inside you. How much he wants you, how much he adores you… The way he clings to you fills you with love. All of it enhances the physical pleasure. Loud moans escape your lips.
“So… All this time…” Bucky starts to talk. “You thought I was here because this is easy.”
Ah, fuck. He isn’t gonna let that go, is he? You should’ve known that. You roll your eyes in response but he doesn’t see it. His head is still buried in the crook of your neck.
“All this time… I was where I wanted to be.” Your annoyance quickly fades away as he keeps talking. “Underneath your body.”
“You weren’t always underneath me.” You answer him with a playful tone.
“As long as I’m inside you, the position doesn’t matter.”
“So…” You try to ask as quickly as possible before your sudden courage disappears. “You haven’t been sleeping around with anyone else.”
He raises his head just to look into your eyes.
“All this time, you thought I was fucking other people?”
“I mean…” You were just friends with benefits. What else you were supposed to assume?
“Were you?”
“Was I what?”
“Fucking other people?” His question is a lot more blunt than yours.
“I asked first!” You sound so defensive all of a sudden.
“I can’t live without touching you, smelling you, feeling you… I have been craving you non-stop, only stopping myself from calling you every day, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and you are asking me if I have been fucking other people. Jesus Christ, doll. How blind are you?”
You are questioning the same thing yourself, to be honest. How blind were you? While trying to surpass your feelings, you were overlooking his, as well. It’s just unbelievable.
“Doll?” You didn’t realize you were lost in thoughts. “It’s fine if you have been.” It doesn’t sound fine at all. It sounds like he’s trying to rationalize it so it would hurt less. “I’m not saying I won’t be jealous but it’s not like we were actually together.”
You start to laugh and he gives you a strange look.
“You are such an idiot and you call me blind.”
“What?”
“I only ever wanted you, you moron.”
His smile is so big and bright, it’s worth everything you two went through. His happiness is practically radiating. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you like a madman.
“You’re only mine.” He starts to move inside you again and you can feel how close you are to coming.
“Only yours.” Your words make him groan loudly.
“Fuck that mouth of yours. You’re gonna make me come before you.”
“You can do that later.” You tease him while moving your hips to meet him.
“Is that a promise?”
“It can be. Only if you fuck me just a little harder so I can finally come!”
That makes him move away from you. He stands up and without losing any time, pulls you on the edge of the bed. You know what’s coming and it makes you smile like a fool. He positions himself between your legs while pushing your knees on your chest. In a couple of seconds, he’s back inside you but the position feels so much better this time. A loud moan leaves your lips every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.
“Harder, huh?”
“Yeah. Just like that.” It’s so hard to not roll your eyes with the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s familiar yet it feels so different this time.
“My girl wants it rough. Why didn’t you just say so?” He sounds cocky there’s also a hint of eagerness in his voice. You can tell he’s close.
“Do I have to tell you everything?”
“From now on, yes. You have to tell me everything.” That authoritative tone pushes you over the edge. “Every fucking thing you feel, okay? Every fucking thing you want. I wanna know everything!”
“Yes!” You practically scream. You don’t know if you are answering him or just screaming because of the way he makes you feel. Your legs are shaking violently while your whole body tightens up. “Fuck yes. Please, please, please, don’t stop!” Your eyes are closed while you are riding your high.
That makes him groan so loudly. Even though you can’t directly look at his face anymore, you just know he’s about to come. He starts to pound on you so forcefully, it just unlocks another level of orgasm for you. Both of your moans fill the room and he keeps going until he empties himself inside you. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of you and lays right next to you.
“Fuck, that was…” The struggles to find the right word.
“On another level?” You offer to end the sentence for him. That’s exactly how you feel.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “We should’ve talked to each other before.”
“We were busy doing other stuff.” You smile and he smiles back, knowing exactly what you mean.
“I guess we did everything other than talking things through, huh?”
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