#and the show itself lets be honest
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vincinder · 1 day ago
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so the leftovers. I just finished that. so... yeah...
okay here I go. I'm kind of upset that I went to it with a completely wrong idea of what it was about. I thought I was going to get a show where a bunch of people from all over the world disappeared one day and then they will tell us what happened, who or what was behind it, why, where did they go… Well mark me as dissapointed in that aspect. I've had a hard time enjoying the first and a half seasons because of these. Of this expectations that I had of what this show was about. And I'm so angry at the fact that this show is a masterpiece but I didn't get the chance to appreciate it from the start because of fucking expectations and assumptions.
Yes, there is a big misterious event where a lot of people from all over the world dissapear. Yes, there is weird shit happening everywhere they show us. But no, this series is not about solving this and giving us answers. This series revolves around grief, how these people (and the world) cope with loss and how the pain can fuck you and your life up. And is absolutely amazing and weird and they do give us answers to some of the questions. Kind of. But is not the point. And sometimes they make everything so confusing that you don't even know what you are watching or if you are enjoying.
But, oh, is so so worth it I can't even tell you.
All I wanted to say with this post is that it did get weird and incomprehensible at some point. It even bore me on occasions. But it's such a unique and amazing way to tell us these stories and to approach these issues. Unbelivable.
Anyway, I just feel that for me this masterpiece of a show was hard to get hooked on and to love. But the second my mind clicked and I let go of everything that I brought with me I started to fall. And what a beautiful fall.
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yellobb · 1 month ago
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I will say, despite how devastated I am, I do have hope that it will be a good ass 90 minutes. There is SO much love in the first two seasons in every little detail. That hasn’t just disappeared.
I’m reminded of The Owl House. Their final season did get more runtime than Good Omens will get, but it was still SUCH a good conclusion. Genuinely I didn’t really know what I was missing out on so I was just enjoying how well they tied everything up.
There is just as much, if not more, love and dedication from the people who make Good Omens happen. I have faith that they can put something together where we can almost forget it’s not what we were promised. To my understanding, there aren’t any major replacements on the crew other than NG, and I guarantee you that his work was just a small portion of what knocked the first two seasons out of the park.
Thinking of other shows this happened to, the ones that had the rough endings we’d rather forget were either done by people who weren’t from the original team, producers who had genuine disdain for the fan base, or were not as beloved in the same way as Good Omens is and will continue to be.
I remember taking a class on film adaptations in college and one day they asked us “what makes a good adaptation.” The number one answer from the class was that the heart of the story was preserved. I’ve seen some films wildly different from their source material that were still fucking fantastic (most recently: Nimona). The final episode will essentially be an adaptation from a long book to a much shorter film. It’s always heartbreaking when your favorite parts or characters are cut, but that doesn’t mean it won’t still be fantastic.
It will be okay. And even if there’s a massive fluke and it ends up being a disaster? That’s what spawns fanfictions. I mean, hell, look at Destiel. They got a shitty and disappointing ending but the fandom is still thriving. People were devastated by Merlin’s ending (though there is much more mixed reception on the finale) and it still trends relatively frequently despite ending 12 years ago. I’m so disappointed right now, but I also know for a fact that when I’m watching the last episode I will be too focused on loving every second of it to think about what we lost.
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shithowdy · 2 months ago
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this is your periodic reminder that for all the artifacts and errors and "tells" one could possibly list, the only reliable way to actually determine if an image is ai generated is to investigate the source. it is becoming increasingly common for "fake classical paintings" to circulate around curative aesthetic blogs, and everyone should be using this as an opportunity to not only exercise their investigative skills but also appreciate art more in general. you're all checking out the artists you reblog, right? 🫣
so what are some signs to look for? let's use this very good example.
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what a lovely late-impressionist piece blended with evocative leyendecker-esque themes! why haven't you ever heard of this artist before? surely tumblr would be all over an artist like this. who is justin brown?
your two options from here are to do a search for the name, or a reverse image search. i prefer reverse image searching, particularly when it comes to a common name like "justin brown". so what does that net?
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Immediately, without looking at any text, something is wrong: it barely exists. an actual historical piece would turn up numerous results from websites individually discussing the piece, but no such discussions are taking place. Looking at the text, though, does show the source-- and at least in this case, the creator was honest about their medium.
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But let's also look at the "exact matches", in case a source doesn't make itself apparent in the initial sidebar results like this.
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This section will often tell you post dates of images, and here it can be seen that the very first iteration of the image was posted 15 days ago. It did not exist online prior to that.
Seeing how long an unsourced image has been floating around is a skill applicable to more than just generative images! See a cool image of an artifact or other intriguing item with a vivid caption? Reverse search it! If all the results are paired with that caption and only go back a few months, you might just have viral facebook spam.
Sometimes generative creators are dishonest about their medium and do not tag it like in the example, so that's when establishing "jpeg provenance" becomes important. While it can be a little trickier to determine if someone is using generative images and not admitting to it if they aren't trying to pass it off as a classic, something to consider is the age of their account and the frequency with which they post. Here are some account red flags:
-Did they only start posting art after 2022, or if they did before, did their style/skill level WILDLY change? Not gradual improvement-- I'm talking amateur graphite portraits straight into complex digital renders. Everyone starts somewhere, newness is not a red flag alone; it's newness combined with existing in a vacuum away from any community.
-Do they post fully-finished paintings several times a week? -Do many of these paintings seem iterative of a similar theme or subject matter ("three well-dressed young men face each other under shade and dappled sunlight")?
-Does their style change in inconsistent ways? An artist that can swap between painting like Drew Struzan and Hokusai should be pretty well known, right? Why is no one hyping this guy?!
-Do they have social media besides the source instagram? If so, what are they posting about? Are there any WIPs? Doodles? Interactions with other artists? Gallery dates? 3am self-doubt posts? Or is it all self-promo? Crypto? Seemingly nothing art-related at all for someone pushing out 3 weekly paintings?
Basically, if it's important to you to omit this stuff when you curate, please don't just smash reblog if the source doesn't seem to be the OP themselves. Seeking out sources was important even before this became an issue, now it is more than ever.
peace n love
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monsterfactoryfanfic · 4 months ago
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if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:
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Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.
It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:
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This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?
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Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.
Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:
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SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."
That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.
The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.
HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.
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Uh oh!
Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.
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You can guess where this is going.
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So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.
Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.
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neuromantis · 11 months ago
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aw2 gave me perhaps, one of the most important realizations of my life. just now. "how do you run from an idea?"
the world i created when i started writing. i liked it. and i liked my characters. they were real to me. but. i could escape there. but i couldn't live there. with my family and friends and loved ones, the only ones i've had then.
i needed to stay outside and keep writing them. i could never join them. so i kept writing. every day i would write more of it, obsessively. and with that came a realization of the genre of the story it was shaping up to be.
i keep calling it "automatic writing", because i really never felt like i was in control of it. ideas just used me as a conduit. the story was telling itself. and it wasn't. a nice story. not one with hopes or happy endings.
i once told someone a long time ago that i couldn't stand writing anymore because i loved those people. loved their world. but if i made more of it. they'd have to suffer for it. so i quit. i kept meeting new ideas and characters and i only wrote down the barest of outlines. because the narrative would inevitably doom them, there had to be no narrative anymore.
i think what also made me stop it, was meeting Adam. a guy i knew like 10 years ago who suddenly messaged me. he re-sent me my own message to him from 2013. "well what about the fact that perhaps there IS a god, but he just specifically hates you?"
the last couple of years made me accept it. Adam is me. N(adam)ian. The one who made it all. The one who set up the rules. The one they'd be suffering for. And I don't want to be that. So I chose to leave them. They don't let me. But at least I can not write.
#there's a particular plotpoint about a certain guy being involved who is more of a proxy of me than the main character ever was#that guy got... a rough hand. of knowing every plot point and story beat as it would unfold - before it happens#and his particular thing was knowing that no matter what he does - he can never poke a hole in the narrative#still he tried even if he knew it was absolutely pointless and that perhaps it's exactly his efforts that doom the narrative#because by being unable to give up on a story he is inside of - by continuing trying to dismantle it - he still played by the narrative#and since i am the only who also knows how it plays out and ends... i should put in more effort myself#and that effort is the only thing i can do - to stop writing#''you can change the story'' - i hope i find a way to#because my only ever way of writing was basically ''black out and come to a finished piece on paper/screen''#i think... that's not a great way to be creative = it requires no input from me#i just let the story possess me and write itself#as i really have no imagination to be quite honest#but one of my goals for this year is to create more - no matter how scared i am - and maybe i can make that story MINE#actually be an author of it instead of a tool to write it or some dumb metaphor like that#also of course this is all such pithy horseshit#but i think aw2 shows a fairly similar situation pretty well#''you want me to write? the same thing that put Alan Wake in The Dark Place?''#my story is a story of the complete obliteration of every story that came together to make it#an excercise in quantum mechanic bullshit that won't save anyone in the end as the only escape from it is to stop existing#it's an Apocalypse story in the meaning of ''there is no post-apocalypse. there is nothing anymore. at all. the end. fuck you''#a pretentious excercise of trying to write a story that wants to stop existing in the first place#of people who fight and win by erasing themselves and their world#and it's really your fault if you picked up the book and liked them - because you made them suffer again#ew. i sound... like a fucking hack#no wonder my own meta-narrative ate me fucking alive#i am neither smart enough to figure how to undoom it nor creative enough to have anything else occupying my head 24/7#truly fucking bleak
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kitten4sannie · 2 months ago
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antithesis
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pairing: peter parker/venom! yunho x gf! reader
genre: spider man au, smut
summary: your boyfriend is going through a phase.
w.c: 3.3k (porn with a microscopic amount of plot)
warnings: dom! yunho, sub! reader, venom should have his own warning bc bro is NASTYY (so is yuyu 🤝🏻), partial mind manipulation? on yunho’s part? bc venom is in his head? idk, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, teasing, fingering, hand kink….,, SIZE KINK., manhandling, pussy eating, tongue kink, raw feral sex (doggy + missionary), bro has a monster cock, also monster fucking!! bc venom takes over <3, cum eating, breeding kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, mind break, record breaking creampie
a/n: listen …….i LOVE venom, the things i would let venom do to me would set humanity back at least fifty years. NOW VENOM YUNHO ON THE OTHER HAND,, oh boy. boyyyy oh boy. i don’t think i have to explain myself when it comes to that combination bc this fic speaks for itself lol. are you curious now? why don’t you give it a peek then, hm? (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ and then lemme know what you thought of it pretty please? <3
song rec: new woman - lisa feat. rosalía (get it bc he’s a new man - bc of venom - 😼)
fictober 2024
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“And just where have you been, Jeong Yunho?” you asked your boyfriend in a more teasing manner than anything, once he snuck in past the sliding glass door of the balcony, getting up from the couch you were waiting restlessly on. When he stood there silently just looking at you through the white eye shaped sections of his mask, you pouted, nervously wrapping a lock of hair around your finger. “Just be honest with me and I won’t be mad, okay?” 
Despite the lack of sleep, you were ready for him this time. He wasn’t about to casually sneak in or out of the house another night that week without you catching him. Usually, you wouldn’t have been concerned because you were used to him being gone when there was crime taking place or a super villain that needed to be brought to justice, but recently…your boyfriend was acting strange. He was starting to become moody and secretive, opting to brush you off when you asked him about it. Yunho had even taken up using substances in his free time, finding him drunk or high off his ass in the apartment when you got home from work. The final straw was when you came home one night to find him in the kitchen with freshly dyed hair and new piercings he had given himself, a few empty boxes of black hair dye and bloody safety pins laying haphazardly on the kitchen counter. 
Yunho took off his mask and rubbed at his eyes like he was tired, leaving a bit of smeared eyeliner underneath them, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his frayed jacket, the one that was slightly zipped just enough to cover his iconic red suit. 
“She knows about us,” said the annoying parasite that had just recently made a home inside him. “We should eat her.”
“No, I’m not doing that,” Yunho grumbled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
You walked up to him, gently putting a hand on his chest. “Yun, I just wanna know where you were at, that’s all. You know I respect your space,” you murmured, your pout growing slightly, your eyebrows upturned with concern. 
“She’s looking at us with those big round eyes again, Yunho,” Venom told his host, letting out a disgusting groan only he could hear. “It’s gonna make us hard. If we’re not going to eat her, let’s fuck her, at least.” 
“Mingi asked me to take care of some douchebags that had been causing trouble at that new club he works at. That’s all, baby,” Yunho replied softly, reaching down to press the back of his hand against your cheek, before cupping it. He noticed the teary look inside your doe eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” 
You nuzzled into his big warm hand, before reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck to hold your boyfriend close. “I’m fine…I’ve just been worried about you, Yun. You’ve been acting a bit…different.” 
“Let’s show her just how different we’ve become, Yunho,” Venom egged him on, knowing Yunho could feel just how much he wanted to break through the barrier of his host’s mind and take control. “She’ll love it.”
How could he possibly explain to you that he was always in a never ending battle with a frightening otherworldly parasite that had found its way inside of him? You would be so scared and disgusted, you’d probably never trust him again. He couldn’t risk losing you, not when you were his only anchor to the normal life he desperately craved, and the first person he’s ever felt this strongly about. 
“I’m just going through a phase, I think,” Yunho expressed wholeheartedly, resting his hands around your waist, his thumbs slightly pressing into your hip bones through your sleep shirt, feeling just how delicate you truly were. You were so small compared to him, practically swimming in one of his band t-shirts that you regularly wore to bed; you were so tiny and cute, and…”Malleable,” Venom finished. Yunho couldn’t tell if the parasite was influencing all of his thoughts or if he was just that perverted. 
“Do you wanna talk about it, Yun?” You pressed yourself closer to Yunho, feeling his large hands enclose around your small waist, making you feel a bit dizzy. When he shook his head, you tilted yours, wondering if what you felt pushing against your middle was exactly what you thought it was. “Or, do you want to take me to bed?” 
It had felt like forever since Yunho had touched you, kissed you even. You had almost forgotten what it was like to feel him inside you, filling you up over and over again until his love spilled out. Just the thought alone made your body begin to overheat. Was it wrong of you to take his simple answer at face value? Should you have pushed the issue, instead of letting him push you back into the wall of the hallway? You weren’t sure, but you were just grateful that your boyfriend still wanted you like this. 
“Did punching those guys at the club make you this horny?” you asked playfully, a sudden shiver of pleasure shooting up your spine when Yunho’s warm hands snaked up underneath your shirt and began groping at your tits.
“So horny,” Yunho joked back, a shaky exhale escaping his bobbing throat as he swallowed. 
 “Nnngh, I didn’t know fighting crime did it for you, Yun.” 
“Knowing I’m already getting your little pussy wet just from this is what’s doing it for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, having to practically lower himself to your height just to do so, able to clearly hear the breathless moan that left your lips. Yunho was already breathing hard, his mind swimming with constant racing thoughts that all pertained to his pretty little girlfriend and what he was going to do to you, squishing your soft flesh in between his slender fingers, using his thumbs to rub your hardening nipples in teasing circles. 
It had felt like eternity since Yunho had allowed himself to feel you underneath his touch, to even simply look at you with unbridled lust. He wanted to see all of you, witness the way you completely opened yourself up to him. It was driving him insane. Was it selfish of him to give into temptation when there was something else living inside him? Something that he knew was taking even more pleasure in this than he was? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he knew it was far too late to stop now. 
“Let us see her tits, Yunho, they feel so nice inside our hands, we need to see,” Venom demanded, desperately shaking the bars of his figurative cage. 
When Yunho tugged your shirt up and over your tits, your gasp became muffled, your eyes widening as he stuffed the hem of the shirt into your mouth. You were going to close your legs to keep your arousal from spilling down your thighs, but your eager boyfriend pushed his larger one in between them. 
“You’re so pretty, angel,” Yunho cooed softly, admiring the way you began to grind your cunt against his thigh, despite the sheepish expression you offered him, a bit of drool escaping the corner of his mouth from witnessing such a display of pure desperation. “Look at you go…rubbing yourself all over my thigh like a horny little slut.” 
“N-not a slut,” you whimpered softly, his insult causing a fresh wave of slick to leak out onto Yunho’s torn jeans. “Just need you, Yuyu.” 
“Her breeding hole needs to be trained to handle my size. Do it now,” Venom growled into Yunho’s mind, growing more and more demanding by the second, very aware that his host was starting to lose control of himself. 
“Yeah? How about this?” Yunho pulled your panties to the side so that he could watch as your greedy cunt swallowed up one of his long, bony fingers to the knuckle. “Is that enough, baby?” 
“I meant with your human sized cock, you insufferable prick,” Venom chided, simply not understanding the pleasurable benefits that prolonged foreplay could offer being the inhibited hothead that he was. 
Something about the way Yunho was taking his time with unraveling you, the way he was drinking in the sight of your bare body with pure lust inside his dilated eyes, all while he had one of his digits plunged inside you. It made you pulse and squeeze around it. “F-full.”  
“But I barely fit one finger inside you, sweetheart. What’ll happen if I put another?” Yunho suddenly tugged your borrowed t-shirt up and over your head, leaning in close to your face to catch the way your breath hitched as soon as he slipped another finger inside, curling them just enough to hit your sweet spot each time he finger-fucked you, earning a few whiny moans from his beloved girlfriend. “Oh, that’s right. You turn into my little sex toy, don’t you?” 
“Y-esss, Yuyu, just for you, fuck,” you cried out, hooking your arms around his neck to keep yourself from completely melting into the floor. 
“That’s a good girl,” he groaned into your ear, quickly stuffing his thick digits into you, unable to get Venom’s ungodly thoughts out of his head all the while, unable to keep himself from shoving a third finger into you, your slick walls pulsating around him. “You think you’re feeling full now…just wait till my cock’s inside you.”
Gasping, your nails dug into his back through his clothes. “Oh my god, Yunho, give it to me, please, please, please,” you whined breathlessly into his neck, trembling in his arms as overwhelming pleasure washed over you. “N-need your cock in me.” 
“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re already begging to be fucked like that. I almost forgot how much of a needy little slut you are when you need cock. You like the thought of me stretching out your little pussy that much, huh?” He smiled against your heated skin when you whimpered and nodded eagerly, not allowing you to witness the brief moment his eyes turned completely black. “I just might split you open.” 
You almost didn’t recognize your boyfriend when he tossed you onto your shared bed like you weighed close to nothing, and you certainly didn’t recognize him when he manipulated your limbs until you were laying with your head down against the mattress and your ass up in the air. Usually, he wanted to do missionary, so that he could kiss and look at you when you both came undone, but now, now he had you in a position that was apparently ‘perfect for breeding’, or at least, that’s what you thought you had heard him mumbling about from behind you. 
“Now’s the time, human. We must show her how great we are,” the alien reminded Yunho, delighted that his black parasitic poison was now making its way through his host’s veins, showing up from underneath his milky skin. It was changing him in ways that would most definitely benefit all three of you. 
Yunho squeezed his large hands into the sides of your ass and spread it open, hyper focused on your dripping cunt and how it struggled to accommodate his obscene size. “Poor baby’s so tiny, my little princess can barely take me inside her pretty cunt,” he sighed, pulling out just enough to send a few strands of spit onto his own cock, lubing up the base of it and pushing back in, a shiver of pleasure shooting up his spine as soon as he heard the broken cry that left your drooling mouth. “Looks like we’re going to have to break you in.” 
You felt like you were losing your mind. Your boyfriend had just barely bottomed out inside of you and you were already about to cream yourself. And, it might’ve been the cock drunk state you were in, but you swore to god that his dick got bigger. It felt like it was kissing your cervix already and he hadn’t even moved yet. Not to mention, it felt so hot inside you, and there was so much pre-cum coating your walls, you almost thought he had came prematurely, but he would’ve been asleep and snoring away already if he did. 
Yunho violently interrupted your train of thought by slamming his hips forward, letting out a deep, long groan as though he were experiencing euphoria. He grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, tucking them together so that he could hold them both with one large hand, and quickly got to work, yanking you back onto his cock, using you like his own personal sex doll. “That’s fucking it, isn’t it, angel? You like that? You fucking like that?” 
“Yeah, fuck me,” you moaned back, realizing this ‘phase’ of Yunho’s was one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to the both of you, previously unaware that something this rough, something this animalistic, could feel as good as it did. 
“She’s ours, she’s ours, Yunho, fuck, we’re going to cum inside her,” Venom blissfully announced into Yunho’s head, fully taking over his host in that very instant, gracing Yunho with the symbiote’s much more endowed features. 
It was then that you let out a sudden gasp, the air that quickly filled your lungs leaving as a wavering moan of pleasure instead. It was almost as if Yunho’s cock had grown twice in size. You didn’t even know how that was possible, but you were too lost in the moment to question it. “So big, it’s so fucking big, Yunho, nnnngh, it’s gonna break me,” you exhaled, quickly pulling at the sheets once he gifted you partial physical autonomy, your eyes beginning to disappear underneath your eyelashes. 
“That’s right, pretty girl, and you’re going to keep taking it all, even after I’m done impregnating you,” Yunho agreed huskily, bending over you until his overheated body pressed into your shoulders and back, his long fingers curling around the softness of your hips. Just as his never ending seed spilled into you and made its way into your womb, Yunho dragged his long tongue up in between your straining shoulder blades and along your neck, savoring your flavor. He truly wanted to eat you, unable to stop drooling, but the annoying mortal he shared this body with wouldn’t let him. Venom figured he would have to settle for the next best thing.  
You didn’t even have a chance to finish shaking, let alone take a breath, before you were being lifted up and lowered back down onto your boyfriend’s face, your cunt fitting snugly between the curves of Yunho’s lips and nose. Just as he lapped at your extremely sensitive clit and slit, you couldn’t help but jolt away, his forearms suddenly locking tightly around your middle. “O-oh…!” 
“Hold still. Need a taste of this pretty cunt,” Yunho growled under his breath, angling his head back and opening his mouth wide enough so that he could explore the entirety of your used cunt, licking and drinking up the mixed arousal that spilled out of you to his heart’s content.
“Y-yunhooo,” you whined pathetically, reaching forward to hold onto the headboard to keep yourself from passing out from the pleasure that was overloading your mind, looking down to watch how he eagerly nosed at your clit. “Fuck, i’ll cum again…” 
“Then, do it, princess.” Just as he swallowed down more of your wetness, he realized it wasn’t enough, unable to keep himself from sliding the entirety of his tongue inside you, feeling you clench around the base of it. 
“Oh my god, your tongue, it’s so–haaaah,” you reacted breathlessly, digging your nails into the wood of the headboard, the longer his serpent-like tongue slithered in and out of you so seamlessly, unable to fully understand how any of this was possible. When the thickest part of his appendage rubbed at your g-spot, you saw white around your vision, your ears ringing, unable to hear the filthy slurping sounds Yunho was making underneath you as he drank up your squirt. 
When you came to, you were back underneath Yunho, in the missionary position he loved so much, yet this time it was profoundly different. His eyes were as dark as his freshly dyed hair, one corner of his mouth split open, inviting a myriad of long, serrated fangs, all while black wispy tendrils clung onto one side of his face like a second skin. You realized too late why Yunho was acting so out of character, and that you were never actually alone with him the past few weeks. You had an uninvited guest, an alien symbiote known as Venom, to be exact — and here you were, face to face with him, his disgustingly oversized cock stretching you wide open.
“Oh god, you’re actually going to split me open, what the fuck,” you gasped sharply, clutching the sides of Yunho’s cheeks, your fingers tugging at the ends of his sweaty hair. 
“Silly human, as much as we’d enjoy seeing that, you won’t split apart. You have a prime body for breeding, didn’t you know?” he chuckled darkly in a two-toned voice, pressing his hand down into your abdomen to feel the sheer size of himself protruding through your lower belly each time his hips routinely smacked into yours. “We knew Spider-man’s pretty little girlfriend would make a perfect host for our offspring. Just look at you, you’re taking us so well.” 
You didn’t know what was going to break your mind first, the fact that you were essentially being used as a breeding tool for an alien that would take great pleasure in swallowing you whole, or the fact that your cunt was eagerly swallowing up something so absurdly large, its heavy girth and width stretching you so wide, it felt as though you would fall apart at any given time. Despite the insanity of it all, your body and mind welcomed it, creaming yourself on his alien cock. 
“Good girlll,” Yunho praised, letting his long slimy tongue slip out to lick up the side of your cheek until he tasted the salt from the tears that fell down your face. He fully sheathed himself inside you one last time, before his large hands cemented around your waist, holding you completely still as his hot load joined the other one he had previously fucked into you, his heavy breaths warming the skin of your neck. “That’s it, princess, take it all, just like that…” 
You could hardly breathe, let alone move, simply laying still in your boyfriend’s arms, taking everything he gave you, as wave after wave of cum coated the insides of your aching cunt and flooded womb, some of it spilling down the insides of your legs and dripping onto the stained sheets below. It felt so good to be filled up in such a way that you came again without direct stimulation, letting out a broken cry, before Yunho silenced you with a kiss. 
When you opened your teary eyes, your boyfriend’s previously monstrous traits were gone, instead replaced with his usual soft, flushed features that you adored so much. You watched him open and close his mouth, as if he didn’t know what to say. You pressed another kiss to his lips, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Should we go to the drugstore to get Plan B?”
Yunho gave you a goofy, though apologetic smile, leaning his face into your neck to give it a few kisses. He pulled himself back up to face you, his eyebrows upturned. “D-do you think it would work on an alien symbiote?” 
You patted his head, knowing what you signed up for when you decided to date the Spider-man, figuring one of his superhero friends would have a solution for the both of you. You gave him a soft smile, happy when he returned it. “If not, let’s get a refund.” 
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isuckatwritingsobenice · 10 months ago
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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.
Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.
Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!
Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)
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Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.
Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.
“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.
Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?
Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.
He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.
If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.
He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!
It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~
You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.
He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.
He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!
He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.
When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!
Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!
His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.
He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.
One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.
Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.
Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.
He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.
Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.
“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”
Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.
He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.
He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)
He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.
The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.
Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.
You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!
He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.
He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.
Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.
Now let’s talk about Vox.
Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.
He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.
Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.
Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.
Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.
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cafterdark · 1 year ago
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There's something about gradual mind breaking that drives me wild.
Imagine this. Your life is shit, you're stuck ina deadend cubical job. 9-5 bullshit galore. One day, you're assigned to train a new coworker. She's pretty, way above your league. And yet she's kind. She compliments you and your skills honed to perfection working these bullshit shifts. But still, she's way prettier than you so you feel awkward even acknowledging them.
The two of you have lunch together. The two of you were talking, and she was still complimenting you for some reason. About how pretty your hair is or how cute your smile looks. You can't even comprehend looking anything but shit. She pouts and fiddles with her phone a bit. Then she asks you to watch a video. Suddenly you're back at work. When did the break end? No matter.
She tells you how pretty your eyes were. You smile because good girls accept compliments and tell her how gorgeous her lips are because good girls are honest. The rest of the day the two of you compliment each other.
It's beenmonth since then and both of you just keep complimenting each other. Sure, your compliments are getting kind of weird. You don't know when you started calling her Mistress as a joke, but it's hard to stop now. But she tells you that it's normal for good girls to call their Mistress Mistress so you keep doing it anyway. Besides, her compliments are getting weirder too. Mistress has made it a habit to pin you to a wall before telling you them. Then she just tells you how submissive and docile you are. She kisses you a lot now. Good girls deserve to be kissed by their Mistress ofc, so you don't complain.
Work itself is harder now. You just can't keep up like you used to. You're just so horny and Mistress doesn't help. You know that good girls are horny messes, but it's so aggravating. The tight clothes that show off so much don't help, but good girls are required to wear them so what can you do? Mistress has to pick up a lot of your slack, but she doesn't seem to mind. And besides good girls let Mistress do the work for them.
Breaks are great. Mistress shows you another video and you feel so good and good girls deserve to feel good. You feel so good that you don't remember what happens during them. You've started finding bruises and bite marks on your skin after them, though you don't know why. You don't care because good girls need to be marked. For the rest of the shift, she keeps touching you and teasing. By the end you can barely stand.
At the clock terminal, Mistress pins you to the wall and makes out with you before leaving. You're frozen by lust for several minutes before stumbling to your car.
Three months in and things are now really weird. You can't tell why anymore. Your head feels like cotton most of the time. You ask Mistress why everything feels so weird, because good girls always ask Mistress for help. She gives you some pets and kisses you, reminding you that dumb puppies don't think. Your boss threatens to fire you because of poor performance, but it's not your fault you're a dumb puppy. Everyone knows that dumb puppies don't work. Dumb puppies are to be submissive and docile. Mistress does most of the work, she's so good at it that she's up for promotion.
Breaks are so fun. Mistress shows you another video. When you wake up, you feel sooooooo good. Like all the energy built up during the morning was just released. Mistress cleans you up and then she starts working again while you heel. Then when you clock out, Mistress attaches a leash to your collar and gives you a walkies home. The walkies home is the best part.
Six months in and life is perfect. You don't work anymore and that's okay. Dumb puppies don't work anyway. You and Mistress live together at her place. You sleep in your cage and if you're a really good puppy, Mistress lets you sleep at the foot of her bed. The best time is when Mistress works. She works at home now. Your job is to be adorable by sleeping in a dog bed under her desk. Well, that and pleasure her, because a dumb puppy's only role is to be her Mistress's fucktoy.
During lunch Mistress fills your bowl with kibble and it tastes amazing. She doesn't show you videos anymore. She says you're perfect now. You don't understand what she means but it doesn't matter. Dumb puppies don't think after all.
After Mistress finishes working, she takes you on walkies and plays with you. It's so fun and nice and amazing. And if you're a really good girl, the best puppy in the whole world, she'll let you sleep in the bed with her. Your life is amazing.
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seat-safety-switch · 6 months ago
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My neighbour had had one of those roll-away dumpsters on his lawn for awhile. In case you're unfamiliar, people often have a lot of trash generated from home renovation projects. They do not want to drive to the dump constantly to throw this stuff out. Instead, you can call someone who comes and drops a dumpster on your driveway, and then when it's full, you can call them again to get it picked up and taken to the dump. The very icon itself of suburban make-it-someone-else's-problemism.
People get really mad when you throw garbage into a dumpster that you didn't pay for. For instance, the local Tim Hortons has put up threatening signs falsely claiming that they have security cameras pointing at the bins at all times. This might be because I once disposed of an entire Subaru EJ25 engine and slightly dented 4-speed automatic transmission, along with most of its fluid, into their dumpster. If you ask me, this is just whining, because that stuff was all made out of aluminum and shouldn't have counted too far on their weight limit anyway.
And yet, I don't want to drive to the dump. Partially, this is because of the exorbitant dump fees: in an attempt at "greening," or more likely to not have so many dumbasses coming to throw out a single tire, they charge a minimum of thirty bucks to throw out anything under a hundred kilos of crap.
Thirty bucks! I can buy a lot of cool junk for that. And they don't even let you take old bicycles out of the garbage pile for that money to try and recoup your cost. Once, I saw a dirt bike, and they wouldn't let me take it. It became a whole thing, which is the main reason I can't go to the dump anymore: they have my picture posted everywhere. So borrowing my neighbour's dumpster is the next best thing.
Here's the tactic you want to use: watch the bin for a few weeks. Check what days there's a lot of stuff being thrown out. These things naturally ebb and flow. There will be an initial burst of enthusiasm as they rip their kitchen to bits, being replaced with a crushing realization that they have ripped their kitchen to bits. It's during that lull that you throw your shit into the dumpster, and cover it up with construction debris from the previous effort. Demoralized, the homeowner won't look in their bin for at least another week, until they are forced to finish the job or hire someone competent to do so, who will start refilling the bin again.
Or, you can do what I did, which is wait for the truck that picks up the dumpster to show up. While the operator is busy loading it up, you throw your stuff into the bin and drive away as fast as you can. The neighbour can't get mad, because the pickup's already been paid for: you're just extracting some extra value from it. The driver can't chase you, because he has a dumpster full of your old shocks and axles halfway loaded onto his truck. And the cops can't get you for illegal dumping, because it sounds like a whole bunch of paperwork and to be honest they're probably too busy arresting folks who start a fistfight at the dump over a pretty sweet dirt bike.
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halohalona · 3 months ago
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🎀 A Little Redecorating
Logan wakes up to you rearranging the living room in the middle of the night
Logan Howlett x Reader
this is inspired by my impulsiveness (i don't know if that's the right word) to clean and rearrange my room at 11 at night until like 12:30 in the morning.
not beta read
masterlist
warnings/tags: fluff, reader possibly having adhd and making impulsive decisions, husband!logan, a little ooc logan, kinda domestic, probably a bit incoherent towards the end cause i decided to finish writing this at 2 in the morning
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To be completely honest, you have no idea why you suddenly got the urge to rearrange and reorganize the living room. You were laying in bed when the idea popped up in your head, and couldn’t sleep since. So you quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake up your husband, and got to work.
You were moving the TV stand when your hip accidentally hit the edge of a side table causing the vase placed on top to fall.
CRASH
Logan immediately sat up the claws on his left hand unsheathing. Instincts kicking in, he looked over to your side of the bed to see if you were ok, only to see no one.
“Shit!” he heard someone speak before hearing a loud thud. In an instant he was out the door running straight to where the voice came from.
You were sweeping the remnants of the broken vase onto a dust pan when you heard Logan frantically shout your name. “Y/N!!”
“I’m okay!! I just knocked over a vase!”
When Logan finally reached you his body visibly relaxed. “Thank fuck, you’re okay. I thought you were getting taken.”
“I’m sorry.” you say sheepishly.
He looked around, the room was in disarray. The couch was no longer in its original place, instead it was blocking the path to the stairwell where Logan came from. The TV stand no longer against the wall he was facing but instead in the middle of the room. The TV itself was laying on one end of the couch while books and knickknacks were scattered on the other end. The rug was also rolled up and put against the wall.
“Love, why are you rearranging our furniture?” he asked, confused.
“I honestly don’t know. I suddenly got the idea while in bed and I couldn’t wait until morning.” you answered looking around, the corners of your lips turning down. “And now I can’t exactly go to bed while the living room looks like this…”
Placing his hands on his hips, he took another look around. “Well then, let’s get to work. Let’s finish this before sunrise,” he sighed before hopping over the couch. “You got an idea how you want the furniture placed? "A smile makes its way to your face before nodding excitedly.
It took you only an hour to get everything in place thanks to Logan doing most of the heavy lifting. After placing the last book on the shelf you let out a loud yawn starting to feel exhausted.
“Alright, let’s get you to bed” your husband said, carrying you up to your room.
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Bonus:
That morning you sat at the dining table hard at work on something on your laptop.
Logan had to do a double take making sure he was seeing things correctly. "Is that our living room?”
“Yep”
“Did you seriously build our living room in—”
“The Sims? Yep. I actually built our house in the Sims.” you zoomed the camera out to show the entire first floor of the build before shrugging. “It makes redecorating easier.”
a/n: the bonus was really just an excuse to add the small detail that the reader uses the sims as reference for decorating the house lol
word count: 511
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tojisun · 11 months ago
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clueless konig :(( he borrows your clothes for the night and genuinely gets confused when they don’t fit him.
you blink up at him when he mentions this. “you’re a big man, kon. no way you’re fitting in my clothes.”
“oh,” he gruffs, looking down at himself.
you can’t help but trail your gaze along him too, biting your bottom lip at the image he makes as he wears a pink shirt that you got from a bachelorette party which has ‘BABY GIRL’ printed on it. it is tight on him, stretching along his chest and clinging to his stomach, showing off the outline of his abs – well, the upper portion of it, anyways because the lower portion is available for easy viewing, given how your shirt ended up only reaching just an inch above his bellybutton.
you trail your eyes lower, letting go of your bottom lip for a breathless, “ah,” as you follow the lines of his scars and tattoos, before reaching the top of his happy trail. you almost whimper when it disappears underneath his boxers.
that’s another thing: the pants that you lent him don’t fit at all so there he is, on his goddamn boxers, in your room.
“with how much you insist on borrowing my clothes, i thought, at least, that you have something of a similar size.”
konig’s words break you from your thoughts and you startle, whipping to look back at him, your heart seemingly pumping directly in your ear.
konig just looks at you with wide eyes, honest curiosity lining his body – big, perfect, delectable body – and you realize that your little crush did not catch on.
good. that’s good.
you shrug with a strained chuckle, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “your shirts look comfier, that’s all.”
he nods in understanding. “i’ll give you more then.”
you try not to die even when your heart lurches itself to your throat.
“okay,” you croak out, smiling at him, your jaw just clenched more than usual. “thanks!”
konig hums before plopping down on your bed, a quiet sigh making his mask flutter.
ugh. what a cutie.
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just-aake · 6 months ago
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Detecting Love Part 2
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: Sequel to Detecting Love. Can a spy who's been trained to lie her entire life show the person with the power to detect lies the truth what it means to be loved?
Warnings: fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort
Words: 5171
Natasha Romanoff lies.
Now, that’s to be expected, considering she is one of the greatest spies in the world. Ever since she was a child, she has been trained to be able to deceive everyone she meets.
Lying comes as easily to her as breathing, and deception is woven into every fiber of her being.
A charming smile here. A flirty wink there. 
Sweet words flow from her lips like honey.
Making everyone fall in love with all of the different false personas that she created for herself.
With a life and a past as shadowed as hers, it makes sense why she never even dared to imagine finding a person who can tolerate, let alone embrace, someone like her.
Then, she met you.
With your unique power to literally see through lies, you can detect the truth from her even when she’s at her most convincing. And despite learning about who she was and how she is, you accepted her unconditionally, not just as a friend, but as a partner.
For Natasha, being with someone who can truly see her is scary, and yet, that feeling is also better than breathing itself.
The two of you have been dating for several months now, and Natasha has never been happier.
Even if she sometimes occasionally struggles to express her affection openly in public.
As the two of you stroll through the compound, her eyes drift down once again in contemplation to your hand swinging casually at your side.
As if sensing her silent deliberation, you suddenly ask her curiously.
“Do you want to hold my hand?”
Natasha straightens at your question and faces forward, responding promptly in an even tone, “No.” 
Now that is sure to sound honest to anyone else who heard it, but you’re different.
Natasha makes sure to trail back slightly behind your line of sight in an attempt to hide the glow she knows you’d probably see around her.
You don’t comment on her evading action, but a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you maintain your pace toward the Avenger’s personal elevator.
The two of you stand side by side, waiting for the elevator to arrive when Natasha suddenly feels the back of your hand lightly graze her fingers before quickly pulling away.
She narrows her eyes in suspicion at you, but you maintain an innocent expression, your gaze fixed on the decreasing numbers above the elevator doors.
Facing forward once more, Natasha is about to dismiss the action as an accidental touch when she feels it again – the fleeting brush of your hand against hers. 
This time, she doesn't hesitate to shoot you an accusing stare. Yet, you continue to feign ignorance, your expression a perfect mask of innocence. 
A couple of seconds pass before your hand makes contact with hers for the third time. 
Before you can retract your hand, Natasha swiftly catches it and intertwines your fingers with hers before letting out a defeated huff.
You don’t utter a word about her actions, but a subtle smile curves your lips, exposing your amusement at her reaction. 
With a soft squeeze of her hand, you pull her into the elevator, the door closing shut behind the two of you.
It's moments like these that remind Natasha why she fell for you — your ability to see past her lies, even the most trivial ones.
Once the elevator door slides open to the private floor, the two of you are met with sounds of a heated argument between the Asgardian Avenger and his visiting brother.
“I know you did it, Loki! This is not the first time you’ve taken and hidden a treasure of mine!”
“Oh, would you stop being so dramatic? We're talking about a mug, not some enchanted artifact.”
You raise a questioning brow at her, silently asking her whether you two should come back at another time, but Natasha shakes her head resolutely in response, not willing to let anything prevent her from missing her morning coffee.
As the two of you walk past the brothers, Thor finally notices the new presence in the room.
“Y/n!” he calls excitedly. 
His hand lands on your shoulder, catching you in place between the two of them which in turn pulls your hand from her grasp.
Thor’s other hand points accusingly at his brother.
“Is Loki lying about taking my mug?”
Realizing that you’re being dragged into the middle of the argument, your eyes dart to Natasha for help, only for her to give you a thumbs up in encouragement as she takes a sip of the coffee that she just poured from the freshly made pot.
The other Asgardian crosses his arms and snickers derisively at his brother.
“Do you really think that this simple mortal can expose the literal god of mischief? I didn’t take your stupid mug, and she can’t prove any—”
“He’s lying,” you answer plainly, seeing the red aura surrounding the Asgardian.
Loki shuts his mouth in surprise, blinking at you for a moment in disbelief, before pointing at you with a disdainful look.
“I don’t like her,” he states bluntly.
“Ah ha!” Thor exclaims victoriously. “You did take it!”
The two continue with their arguing as you discreetly sneak away to Natasha’s side.
She hands you a cup of coffee which you accept with a soft thanks before an alarm on your phone rings, showing your reminder for the day. 
You groan lightly in disappointment, causing Natasha to raise a questioning brow at you as she raises her cup for another sip.
“I have some interviews to get to this morning, so I’ll have to see you later,” you tell her before pressing a quick kiss goodbye to her cheek.
“I love you,” you whisper against her skin.
Swallowing her sip quickly, Natasha turns her head towards your direction, the reciprocating words also on her tongue.
“I—”
But you’ve already rushed away around the corner, disappearing from view. 
“…love you too,” Natasha finishes in a soft disappointed tone, her lips twisting at your action. 
Public displays of affection aside, Natasha has no problem wanting to tell you how much you mean to her.
But for some reason, you always seem to conveniently find ways to escape whenever she’s about to say those words to you.
“Now I’m no expert on relationships, but that right there was some cunning evasion tactic,” Loki comments, smirking at Natasha. “It appears that she’s not really interested in receiving such words from you.”
A slap on Loki's shoulder propels him forward a couple of steps as Thor reprimands, “Stop trying to cause problems for them, Loki.” 
He then turns to Natasha with a firm nod. 
“Don’t listen to him, Nat. Y/n loves you.”
Of course, she knows that. 
You whisper those words against her skin every morning when you think she’s still asleep and then again against her lips when you wake her up. 
The problem is that it seems that she never gets the chance to return the gesture before you find some way to rush away from the room or keep her mouth otherwise occupied and distracted.
A thud on the counter pulls her from her thoughts as Loki leans against the table with a mischievous grin.
“That girl can detect lies, right? Then why don’t you just tell her that you don’t love her, and then she’ll see the truth. That should be easy enough for you. After all, lying is your specialty,” Loki remarks before a smug expression forms on his face. 
“Unless that is, the truth is that you don’t actually love her,” he taunts.
Natasha glares at him silently, refusing to fall for his baiting provocation. Not wanting to give the trickster god any more amusement, she quickly downs the rest of her coffee and leaves for the meeting room, deciding to try again with you later.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
With the briefing finishing early, Natasha decides to visit your office during this break in between her meetings. Conversations flow around her as she walks past the front desk toward the administrative part of the building.
“I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t let you enter without an appointment.”
“Well, is there any way you can just send a message to Y/n to let her know I’m here?”
Natasha’s head snaps up from her tablet at the sound of your name and curiously turns to the person who said it, only for her eyes to widen slightly in surprise at their identity.
Your ex-fiancée 
Stopping in her tracks, Natasha redirects her attention to the two of them.
“What did you need to see Y/n for?” she asks.
Your ex turns to her at her question, and an expression of amazement crosses her face.
“Oh, wow, you’re Black Widow.”
Brushing off her awed exclamation, Natasha crosses her arm expectantly as she repeats, a slight tone of protectiveness entering her voice.
“Why are you looking for Y/n?” 
Noticing her serious gaze and intimidating demeanor, your ex fidgets with her hands nervously as she responds.
“It’s kind of a private matter with an old case that I need her help with,” she explains.
Despite being the one who broke your heart, your mutual break up with her meant that the two of you are still somewhat friends, and as much as Natasha wants to, she can’t prevent your ex from seeking you out, especially since it seems she needs your help.
With an internal displeased sigh, Natasha gestures with her head towards the direction of the elevators.
“I’m heading over to her office right now if you want to come with me,” Natasha offers, nodding at the receptionist reassuringly to indicate that it’s okay, before walking away without another word. 
Natasha hears your ex scramble to follow quickly after her once she processes her words.
As the elevator doors close with the two of them inside, Natasha pulls out her phone to send you a warning text.
I’m on the way to your office with your ex.
A read message quickly appears under her text, indicating that you have seen it, and then a text bubble promptly pops up as you respond.
?!?!?
“So, do you and Y/n work together often?” your ex asks, trying to fill the silence with casual conversation.
Natasha looks up at her question, tucking her phone away. She crosses her arms and leans back against the elevator walls, adopting an intimidating posture, as she gives her a hard stare.
With a calm yet assertive tone, she tilts her head curtly and replies with the truth. 
“She’s my girlfriend.”
An awkward silence fills the small space after her answer, and your ex’s eyes dart around the enclosed space, seemingly realizing she’s essentially alone with the Black Widow who just revealed that she is in a relationship with you. 
Sensing her nervous energy, Natasha relaxes her posture, offering a more friendly demeanor.
“Relax, if I was going to do something, I would have done it already,” Natasha reassures. 
Your ex nods hesitantly, acknowledging Natasha’s attempt to diffuse the tension. After a moment of contemplation, she gathers the courage to speak up again. 
“So, you know about Y/n and her ability?” your ex asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.
“Yes,” Natasha confirms, adding, “And about what happened between the two of you.”
The revelation hangs heavy in the air, plunging the elevator into an uncomfortable silence once again. 
Honestly, Natasha knows she shouldn’t keep putting your ex in these awkward positions with her responses. 
However, just because you are on friendly terms with her doesn’t mean Natasha has to be, especially considering she never held any goodwill toward the woman before.
Natasha redirects her focus to the digital display above the door, silently cursing and blaming Tony for the sluggish pace of the elevator. 
“I-I honestly did love her,” your ex confesses, breaking the silence once again.
At her statement, Natasha regards her with a raised eyebrow, silently prompting her to elaborate on her sudden declaration.
"I mean, Y/n’s great. It’s just…it got hard to imagine being with someone who always knows if you’re telling the truth or not,” your ex explains with a small sigh, offering a tiny sympathetic shrug before asking. “I’m sure you understand that feeling too, right?"
Irritation flares in Natasha’s chest at your ex’s words, her protective instincts surfacing in defense of you.
"Maybe the fact that she can see someone for who they truly are is what makes being with her so special," Natasha counters, her voice firm with conviction.
The remainder of the elevator ride passes in tense silence until the doors finally open with a ding, signaling their arrival at your floor. 
Throughout that time, one part of the conversation continues to bother Natasha, and she finds herself asking, wanting to know the answer.
“Did you tell her often?”
“What?” your ex asks, blinking in surprise and caught off guard by her sudden question. 
Natasha presses her lips together momentarily in displeasure at the topic before clarifying, “Did you tell Y/n that you loved her often, you know, before your feelings changed?”
“Oh, um, kind of,” she admits, a faint chuckle escaping her lips. “It’s actually kind of funny. Y/n would always have this cute little shy smile whenever I said it, so I ended up saying those words to her a lot.”
The irritation in Natasha’s chest intensifies at her answer, and her feelings must be evident on her face because your ex starts waving her hands frantically in a slight panic.
“But I’m positive Y/n won’t react the same way if I said it now,” she adds quickly.
Instead of responding, Natasha leaves the elevator without another word. 
Your ex’s reassurance does little to ease the irritation that she feels at not yet having been able to say those words to you herself.
The two of them arrive at the door of your office, only to find it locked with the lights turned off.
Just as Natasha is about to text you to ask you about your whereabouts, you emerge from around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of her.
Confused at your flustered state, Natasha gives you a questioning look as she asks, “Why are you rushing?”
You take a couple of deep breaths to catch your breath before answering.
“Because…I didn’t want to…to leave you waiting.”
Natasha feels her heart flutter at your words, her posture relaxing for a moment.
“…wow…you look good, Y/n,” your ex comments.
Natasha’s body immediately tenses again at the reminder of your ex’s presence, and she becomes further annoyed when she takes in the state of your appearance that prompted the remark from your ex.
You are in your usual workout outfit, a standard black tank top, showcasing your body with a gleam of sweat still on your skin, evidence of your workout session.
As if sensing Natasha’s increasing irritation, your ex gestures awkwardly in fear toward the waiting area some distance away.
“I’ll just wait over there.”
Natasha watches your ex walk away with a slight glare in her eyes. 
When she turns back to you, her expression instinctively softens with affection and curiosity.
“Where were you?” she asks.
“My last couple of interviews had to cancel, so I decided to go train for a bit,” you answer with a slight shrug. “You know, since you suggested that I try training whenever I’m bored and have some free time.”
Natasha's lips twist slightly in conflict at your response. She's happy you took her suggestion to heart, but now she's also upset that it led to you appearing in front of your ex in such a state.
Gesturing toward your ex, you ask, “Did she say why she’s here?”
Natasha sighs and shakes her head.
“She only mentioned that it was an old case that you can help her with.”
“Okay,” you say, nodding in understanding, probably already knowing what she’s referring to. 
Then you look at Natasha with a cute tilt of your head. 
“After I finish up with her, do you want to go out for some lunch?”
A small smile forms on Natasha’s face, her earlier irritation melting away at your suggestion. 
However, she knows she might not have enough time to wait and go out before her next meeting.
“How about I go ahead and pick up some takeout first, and then we can have lunch in your office when I return?” Natasha offers as a compromise.
You smile at her in response and press a soft kiss against her cheek.
“It’s a date.”
As you’re about to move past her, Natasha presses her hand firmly on your shoulder, stopping you and pushing you back to your original position.
You give her a questioning look in confusion.
“Did you take my hoodie again?” Natasha asks accusingly. 
Your eyes dart guiltily to your office before you mutter under your breath with a soft pout, “Maybe.”
Natasha nods slightly in contemplation, her eyes glancing at where your ex was waiting and then back to you.
“Put it on,” she says plainly.
You raise a brow at her in confusion and gesture to your body.
“Nat, I’m covered in sweat. I didn’t get a chance to hit the showers before you texted,” you explain.
“That text didn’t mean that you should come here all hot and sweaty in front of your ex like this,” Natasha remarks pointedly, crossing her arms.
A teasing grin pulls at your lips as a look of understanding crosses your face.
“You think I look hot right now?” you ask happily.
“Seriously?” Natasha deadpans. 
Unbothered by her signature intimidating gaze, you pull her closer by the loops on her belt and lean in with a slight tilt of your head.
“Are you jealous?” you tease lightly, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you try to hide your pleased grin.
Natasha rolls her eyes, though her lips quirk up briefly in amusement. She knows whether she responds truthfully or not, you probably already know the answer without the help of your ability, so she responds instead.
“Keep it up, and I’ll just come back with one takeout box for myself,” she warns.
You laugh lightly at her response, nodding your head in concession.
“Alright, I’ll put it on,” you promise, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. 
As you pull away, you whisper, “I love you,” the words brushing softly against her lips.
Natasha’s eyes had fluttered closed at the touch of your kiss, but they snapped open when she remembered she wanted to say those words back to you too.
However, to her disappointment, before she realized it, you had disappeared from her side. 
Turning around, she finds you already in your office, putting on her hoodie.
A mocking chuckle sounds beside her, and she turns to see Loki leaning casually against the wall.
“Oh, you didn’t even try that time,” he taunts.
Without hesitation, Natasha raises her wrist and shoots a widow bite at him. It flies through his body, dispersing the apparition that he had left there.
Groaning in annoyance at his presence, Natasha quickly leaves to go get your lunches before he can reappear and provoke her further.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“So this is the one lie detector that you can’t beat,” Fury comments with intrigue, as he examines your file.
Natasha closes the folder promptly and takes it from the table in front of him, stating firmly, “Her name’s Y/n, and no, you can’t have her. She’s just going to help review the list of potential recruits for you. Nothing else.”
She gives him a pointed look, stressing, “Especially not any SHIELD interrogations.”
Leaning back in his chair, Fury chuckles amusedly and raises a brow at her.
“Protective, are we?”
Before she can affirm the lengths she would go to minimize the risks you have to take, the door slams open, and you stroll in, giving her a wave and a charming smile. 
You stop in front of her, taking her hand suddenly in yours and giving it a light swing. 
“Ready to get started?” you ask. 
Natasha’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Something about your behavior was off and unlike you. 
She examines your expression critically, and then in one swift, fluid motion, she grabs your wrist and upper arm, pivots on her heel, and shifts her weight, seamlessly flipping you over her shoulder. 
With a resounding thud, Natasha slams you down onto the meeting table, the impact rattling the room.
Fury whistles lowly with a slight wince, a mixture of sympathy and admiration in his tone.
“Tough love, huh?” he remarks to her.
Natasha rolls her eyes at his comment and shakes her head, reaching to her side to grab something. She takes one of “your” wrists and snaps a golden cuff onto it. 
Immediately, the figure on the table shifts from your face and form to Loki’s. 
His eyes glare at her as he gathers his bearings, giving a slight grunt of pain when he moves.
“As if this woman knows anything about love,” he scoffs, standing up from the table with a groan.
Fury hums curiously at the sight of the trickster god, turning to Natasha.
“Who let him in here?”
Natasha sighs as she crosses her arms, replying, “Unfortunately, Thor and he are on friendly terms at the moment.”
Loki raises his hand and waves his finger at her in reprimand.
“Exactly. Now, is this any way to treat a guest of yours?” he taunts with a smirk before his eyes drift to the cuff on his wrist. His expression falls in recognition. “Where did you get this?”
A smirk forms on Natasha’s face as she answers, “Thor lent it to me when I asked. Since I know better than to just take his things.”
The cuff in question is an enchanted artifact that temporarily blocks the magical abilities of the wearer as explained by the god of thunder.
Loki scoffs in disbelief, placing one hand on his hips while waving his other wrist at her. 
“Hilarious, now take these off,” he demands.
Natasha’s smirk remains fixed as she shakes her head.
“I don’t have the key,” she admits, tapping her chin thoughtfully before revealing, “It must still be with Thor. But I’m sure you’ve already apologized to him for earlier, so you’d have no problem asking him to release you.”
Loki scowls, his expression darkening with disdain, and then he swiftly turns toward the exit.
“It’s no wonder that girl doesn’t want to accept any love from the likes of you,” he spits out angrily.
Natasha’s lips twist downward at his words, but before she can respond, a knock on the door interrupts the tense moment. 
Taking a calming breath, she calls out, “Come in,” already knowing who it is.
You open the door at Natasha’s invitation, only to dodge out of the way as Loki storms past you out of the room, muttering angry curses under his breath.
Turning back to Natasha, you notice the telltale red aura fading from around her and wonder what was the lie that you assume she had just told him.
As you approach her, Natasha’s contemplative, sullen expression quickly shifts to a neutral one when she catches your concerned gaze.
Before you can question her about it, Fury claps his hands firmly, looking between the two of you.
“Alright, let's finish this quickly then.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Seated on your sofa, Natasha hugs a cushion pillow closer to her chest, seeking comfort as Loki’s harsh words echo in her mind.
Is it just a coincidence that you manage to avoid her every time she’s about to say those words to you? Or is it possible that the truth is you don’t actually want to hear those words from her?
You place a bowl of popcorn on the table in front of her, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts as you finish explaining what your ex needed from you.
“So, I just need to submit my notes on the case so that the court can close it out,” you explain.
Natasha hums absently in acknowledgment, but her mind drifts back to her insecurities.
Was Loki just messing with her or were all of your previous evading actions really on purpose?
Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Natasha decides to settle this once and for all.
As you take your seat next to her and start the movie, Natasha initiates her plan. She quickly maneuvers herself over your lap, straddling you as her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing you firmly against the sofa with her body.
Your hand automatically rests on her waist and begins tracing light patterns against her side, but your lips twist into a small pout of confusion as you remark, “As exciting as this is, I thought this movie was your favorite.”
Natasha closes her eyes briefly, internally groaning at your adorable words and how incredibly in love she is with you. 
If only you could hear it from her for once.
Determined to not fail this time, she tries again.
“I lo—”
Her words are cut off, swallowed by you, as you pull her down into a deep kiss. 
Instinctively, she melts against your body, sliding her hands to caress the back of your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss as she gets lost in the feeling of your lips moving against hers. 
Then, realization hits her, and she snaps her eyes open and pulls away. 
“Hold on, I’m trying to tell you that I—”
“I know,” you interrupt, your hand covering her mouth to stop her mid-sentence. 
That’s when Natasha sees it.
The fear in your eyes.
“I know,” you repeat, giving her a look of understanding before swallowing nervously. 
You close your eyes as your head drops to your chest, a sad chuckle escaping from you. 
“You know, in all my life, I have never been afraid to discover if someone was lying to me,” you admit, shrugging lightly. “I’ve always known that people can lie, so it’s never really surprising or hurtful when it happens.” 
You let out a weary sigh and look up to meet her gaze with a sad smile. 
“Except for that one time.”
Natasha knows what moment you are referring to — the night your powers revealed that your ex no longer loved you.
The memory flashes in your mind, vivid and raw, as if it happened only yesterday. The betrayal, the heartache, the crushing realization when the red aura appeared around her after she uttered those fateful three words to you.
Your attention returns to the woman in front of you, the one who helped heal your heart. The one who now holds it. 
The one who also has the power to hurt you in the exact same way, even though you know she won’t.
“I love you so much, Natasha,” you say with breathless adoration and honesty, but your expression pinches in fear as you continue, your voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t think I'm ready to hear it from you yet. Just…not those exact words.”
You sigh sadly, understanding how unfair your words are to her, and your chest tightens guiltily as you apologize, “I’m sorry. Look, I’d understand if you want to leave.”
You look away from Natasha, your mouth pressing together tightly, fighting the urge to cry. 
The silence stretches out in the room before Natasha gently cradles your face, bringing your gaze back to her.
“You make me happy,” Natasha declares firmly.
You give her a confused look at her words.
“Wh-what?”
Ignoring your question, Natasha continues, asking meaningfully, “Am I lying?”
Your eyes observe her for a moment, but you don’t see any indication of a red aura appearing.
“No,” you answer in confusion.
Natasha nods before continuing, “I don’t mind that your powers reveal truths about me, like the moments when I want to hold your hand or when I’m jealous.”
She tilts her head at you in question.
“Am I lying?” she asks again.
Still not seeing any red aura appear around her, you shake your head at her in response.
Natasha rests her forehead against yours, letting out a deep breath, before continuing, “I’m afraid that one day…” she pauses, taking in a shaky breath to prepare herself for what she’s about to admit out loud. 
“…one day you’ll wake up and decide that because of who I was, who I am now is not enough for you to stay with me anymore.” 
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you go to reassure her, “I wouldn’t—”
“Am I lying?” Natasha interrupts, not wanting you to worry about comforting her at this time.
Your eyes soften sadly when you see the vulnerability and fear in her eyes at her words. 
You reach up to cup her cheek, your thumb caressing her face gently in comfort as you whisper, “No.”
Leaning against your touch, Natasha lets out a steadying breath to compose herself for the final part of her point.
“So when I say I can wait…” she pauses, looking into your eyes with a serious and determined expression, making sure you can see the sincerity of her next words. 
“…I’ll wait for as long as you need so that one day I can say those words to you…am I lying?”
You watch her carefully for a moment, but nothing appears to counter her claim. Realizing her intentions to reveal her feelings in another way, your heart fills with love and adoration for her as you answer with a soft smile. 
“No, you’re not lying, Natasha.”
She gives you a gentle grin and cups your face, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before admitting, “That’s because when I’m with you, Y/n, it never feels like I’m living a lie.”
A breathless, awed gasp escapes from you at her words, and you can’t help but pull her in closer, her red hair falling around you like a curtain.
“I love you,” you whisper against her lips, the words filled with genuine adoration for the woman.
Natasha smiles softly at your words and closes the distance between the two of you once again, her kisses tender and filled with all of her unspoken feelings. Her lips move against yours with gentle urgency, conveying everything she can’t yet say aloud.
The warmth of her touch, the sincerity of her kiss, and the way she holds you protectively — all of it reassures you. 
It doesn’t matter that those three words haven’t been spoken explicitly — her actions, her presence, the look in her eyes says it all already.
Natasha may be considered one of the greatest spies in the world thanks in part to her exceptional ability to lie, but even she can’t hide the truth from you.
Without needing to hear her utter those fateful three words aloud, you already know the truth in your heart.
That Natasha Romanoff truly loves you too.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
a/n: Thank you for reading and for all the love that you all gave to the first part! I hope you enjoyed this one too!
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just-jordie-things · 1 month ago
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try to understand - inumaki toge
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word count: 15k warnings: swearing, canon typical violence, some canon divergence (toge still has one arm, most characters are a teacher at jujutsu tech) unedited leave me alone maybe i'll do it later summary: being misunderstood isn't new for inumaki toge. but when the girl he'd had a crush on since he was a teenager makes a reappearance in his life, he realizes he'd really, really like for her to understand him. more info: miscommunication trope bcuz it's toge... he's just a pining romantic !! strangers -> slight enemies -> reluctant friends -> lovers. reader is a feelings-blind, emotionally constipated lil idiot <3
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
The Jujutsu Tech Exchange Event was stress inducing enough.  Being evaluated by the higher ups and pitted against peers in a test of cursed ability and strength put a lot of pressure on those who participated.  
Not that participation was ever a choice.
And to be honest, if it was a volunteer event, (y/n) would have some serious thinking to do.
It wasn’t that she doubted her abilities as a sorcerer.  She had all the confidence in the world with her mastered ability, but sometimes the weight of being a jujutsu sorcerer was so heavy she couldn’t even be sure it was the right path for her.
But it had to be, right? With her skill being more akin to raw talent, sorcery coming as natural to her as breathing, it must be what she was meant for, it just made sense like that.
So most days, she woke up, shook off the empty feeling of longing on her mind, and got right to work.  Whether it was training, studying, or a bright and early assignment, she stayed on top of things.  She couldn’t let a feeling slow her down, and she didn’t.
Still, she wished she could feel what her peers do.  Because whatever it was, Mai and Todo made it look pretty exhilarating.
Miwa, Mechamaru, Momo, and Noritoshi didn’t seem as interested in antagonizing the Tokyo students either, but they were content hanging out with the snacks they’d gotten from the vending machines without picking any fights.  (y/n) sat with them, slowly sipping on the fruity drink she’d gotten for herself in the hopes that it would gear her up for the event.
“Looks like things are heating up” Miwa says, her neck craning to get a better glimpse at what was going on between the noisy students.  It didn’t take a genius to know exactly what was going on, though.
Mai and Todo being their usual selves, that is.  (y/n) didn’t bother trying to watch the scene unfold.  Instead she just slumped further down into the grass.  If only she could sink underneath it, too.
“Should we intervene?” Momo asks, but she doesn’t seem any more interested in (y/n).  Laid back on her broom with her hands behind her head, she was the image of disinterest.
There wasn’t a chance (y/n) was getting involved in any of this.  The only thing she had her sights set on was a solid nap after today’s event was over.
The event itself was the same as last year… and every year before that.  A bunch of egotistical sorcerers running around in the woods, eac trying to exorcize more curses than the last.  Of course, these last couple of times had more of an edge to them than usual.  With Mai always gunning for her sister- literally- there was an added layer of bloodlust.  And god forbid Todo found any of his opponents boring.  He’d take all the ‘friendly’ out of friendly competition.
Perched in a spot she wouldn’t call great for hiding but she didn’t necessarily care, (y/n) had her chin in her hand to keep her head up.  She’d fall asleep right there if she could.  A part of her wished that Tokyo’s Special Grade Okkotsu Yuuta would show up, just to put this whole silly thing to an end as quickly as he did last year.  Her peers weren’t so happy about him, or Rika, being involved in the Exchange Event, but that day he was (y/n’s) hero.
Lazily, her eyes swept over the area below her.  No one had ventured this way since she’d climbed this tree, and if she was lucky, she might be able to sit here until the whole thing was over.  She could only dream.
But all good things must come to an end, and soon enough the unmistakable sound of footsteps came running towards her tree.  She perked up, just a little, and only because it was a surprise that whoever was rushing into her neck of the woods clearly wasn’t doing so with the intention of going unnoticed.
Swinging her legs a bit, (y/n) peeked down below her, trying to catch a good look at who it was.  Surely not one of her peers, they had to be a Tokyo student.
Sure enough, an unfamiliar head of blonde hair came bounding into the clearing just below her tree.  Of the Tokyo students she was familiar with- Maki, Panda, Fushiguro, and she supposed Yuuta- this wasn’t one of them.  So she played it safe by remaining silent.
It crosses her mind that any of her fellow sorcerers would’ve taken this chance to go head to head with their abilities. They’d probably think she was wasting an opportunity by letting this boy run by without a fight.  The thought doesn’t linger long.  She’s not bothered much by what others might think of her.  She knows that if she wanted to, she could take any sorcerer on in a fight.  She just… didn’t care much to use her cursed technique where it wasn’t necessary.
At first all she can see is the blonde hair.  He seems to hesitate once in the clearing, doing a quick sweep to make sure there wasn’t another sorcerer hiding amongst the brush.  (y/n) holds her breath, but not once does he lift his head to check amongst the trees.  She’s in the clear.
From the little bit that he looks around himself, she notices that his uniform includes a tall black collar which covers the bottom half of his face.
It doesn’t take much else to put two and two together.  This was the Cursed Speech user she’d been warned about.  From the Inumaki Clan.  She holds her breath once more.
Mai had told her long winded and horrific things about the Inumaki Clan.  Stories similar scary tales told around the campfire.  Except they were all cramped up in the car that brought them to Tokyo.  If it was a scare tactic to keep everyone away from Tokyo’s Cursed Speech user, (y/n) couldn’t say it was all that fear inducing.
That doesn’t mean she didn’t have her curiosities.
“Jump down” 
It was an experience like no other.  Any thought on her mind was erased.  Her held breath was expelled just as quickly as she was releasing her secure hold on the branch, and before she knew it she was leaping right off, without a care for being noticed.  Had she been less experienced in acrobatics, she might’ve sprained an ankle from the ten foot drop.  Lucky her that a lifetime of training meant she landed as gracefully as she would’ve had she jumped on her own volition.
And it was quick too- just as soon as she’d realized the hold that Cursed Speech had on her, she was already free of it’s effects and was level headed again.  At least enough to take a step backwards to put some distance between herself and the Tokyo student who’d caught her red handed.
However she quickly noticed that the Inumaki boy wasn’t in an offensive stance.  He wasn’t really in any stance at all- he just stood there, watching her with seemingly the same amount of curiosity as she watched him.
(y/n) doesn’t mean any offense, but it’s hard not to stare.  With a collar hiding the lower half of his face, his eyes felt all the more piercing.  As if he had full access to her mind whether he spoke or not.
Using her own cursed technique crosses her mind, but it’s a distant thought, as if the competition at play isn’t happening at all.
She’s not sure she’s ever met anyone with such deep violet eyes before.
It’s ridiculous to wait for him to say something.  But she stands there with more impatience than she’s ever felt before.
“Aren’t you going to knock me out or something?” She asks when she realizes he’s still just going to stand there.
Inumaki blinks, mabe pondering it for a moment, before he shrugs.  (y/n) hardly knows what to do with that, and despite knowing he’s not going to give her any proper explanation, she still seems to wait for something more than a shrug.
So with a careful eye she steps back a little further, just to see if he’d make any move on removing her from the game.  But no matter how many small steps she took, Inumaki didn’t move.  He barely seemed to care.  Didn’t he know he had the unbeatable technique? If he wanted to, he could put her to sleep right now.
With one last glance, (y/n) finally turned and booked it towards the thickest bundle of trees with the most coverage.  It was clear that he wasn’t going to attack her, and it shouldn’t have surprised her that he didn’t seem to be following after her either.  What was his deal? What was Tokyo’s strategy if it wasn’t wiping out the competition? She couldn’t make any sense of it, so for now she’d just have to find a new spot to hide out until the event was over.  Or became more interesting.
It never really crossed her mind that she hadn’t tried to attack him, either.
The event did get more interesting.  Although it wasn’t an exciting turn, (y/n) did find herself suddenly thrown into engaging herself.
How curses and curse users managed to get through the barrier around Jujutsu Tech, she didn’t understand.  Critical thinking however was out the window as soon as that Special Grade Tree showed up.
With a less than formal introduction to Itadori, she found herself wrapped up with him and Todo.  Perhaps the last place she wanted to be- she hated the dizzying effect of his cursed technique- but it was where she found herself.  So she gave it her all, even when the turn for the worst took a detour towards chaos.
It was a strange feeling though, in the thick of the fight and expecting the worst, there was finally a spark within her.  Something buzzing like static electricity was starting to take form.  A small zap at first, an eagerness to play on the offense, and it seemed the more she chased that electric buzz, the more it grew.  There was no denying that something had changed in her demeanor- the others could see it in the way she stopped pulling her punches.  That’s not to mention the grin on her face growing more unhinged like a snarl with every move she made.
That little buzz had ignited into an all out fire, and soon she grew blind to everything but the fight.
Was this passion? Was this finally her eye opening moment to the pleasure of knowing and loving what she’s meant to do? The thoughts were muddled amongst the overwhelming urge to finish this off, to exorcize, to win.  She’s never felt a desire this strong, never sought out a victory quite like this, and it was just barely out of reach, right at the tips of her fingers- 
“Run away!” 
And just as (y/n’s)cursed energy began to materialize around her hands, it was disappearing.  Her body swiveled on it’s own accord, facing her in the other direction and pumping her legs into the motion of running all before she could process that this wasn’t her own doing.  It was cursed speech.  Again.
Her deranged grin fell into a sour grimace as she found herself full sprinting towards the other side of campus, other sorcerers in tow feeling just as useless as they were forced away from the fight.
What was once a burning passion turned into a bitter cold resentment.  All she could think as she ran away from the fight was how dare Inumaki dismiss her? The bitterness in her mood only festered the more she grew to blame him for sending her away.
The next time their paths cross, she’d make sure to give him a piece of her mind.
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ 5 YEARS LATER  ⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
Coming back to Jujutsu Tech Tokyo wasn’t exactly a choice (y/n) would have made for herself, she could admit that.
She’d never wanted to become a teacher.  The idea of continuing the cycle of turning young people into jujutsu sorcerers made her stomach knot.  So no matter how persistent the Kyoto and Tokyo branches were- she wanted nothing to do with it.  She’d continue her own work- privately- exorcizing curses for a living, but she swore she’d bite the curb before getting involved any further than that.
Curb, meet (y/n).
Standing outside the grand double doors that was the main entrance to the Tokyo school, she couldn’t help but let her shoulders sink.  Since graduating a few years ago and entering the real world as an adult, (y/n) had spent most of her time alone.  Living alone, working alone- she’d quickly learned it was the only way to be when you’re a jujutsu sorcerer.  Letting people in was a risk, getting attached to someone was a risk, it felt like it was just easier to function as a singular unit.  No one to look out for but herself.
The doors opened before she could even knock.  Before she even gave turning around and disappearing a second thought.
“(y/l/n)!” 
Itadori Yuji was just as she remembered him.  So outgoing it would be inappropriate if he wasn’t completely genuine.  With a large grin he ushered her inside, his mouth running a hundred miles a minute, going on about how long it had been, how she was doing, how he was doing, how happy he was to see her in Tokyo.
“I mean, it’s been what, five years? You look great! Here follow me, the others are waiting just down here…” 
It’s only then that she finally finds her voice and cuts off his eager rambling.
“Others?” She repeats the word her mind had caught onto.  “I thought this was a quick in and out sort of thing” 
Yuji could be dense at times, but he didn’t miss the way her eyes narrowed on him with an accusatory glare behind them.  So with a smile that seemed more sheepish than reassuring, he waved his hand in a dismissive manner and blew a raspberry.  (y/n’s) expression didn’t waver.
“In and out, two weeks, it’s all relative, right?” He joked, and now she’s gaping at him with widened eyes that seemed all the more upset.
“Two weeks?” Her voice raises just a little, not enough to yell, but enough that her exasperation was evident.  “Itadori, you said you just needed a bit of a fill in, two weeks is not a fill in!” 
He’s walking faster down the hall, not that it was difficult for (y/n) to keep up with him.  Two pairs of loafers clicking loudly and quickly against the tile, they almost looked like they were playing a game of chase.
“My hands are tied here, it’s really not up to-” 
Just as Itadori lifts his hands in mock surrender, he’s frozen in place, a familiar energy coursing through his body that keeps him stuck like a statue.
(y/n) finally gets in front of him, with her hands encased in cursed energy and a scowl on her face.
“You’re being dodgy,” She states, eyeing the way he clearly tries to fight her cursed technique to no avail.  “Why do you really need me here for two weeks?” 
When she’d gotten a call from an unknown number a few days ago, she hadn’t expected to hear Itadori Yuji.  She also hadn’t expected to hear him reaching out for help, backup as he called it.  “It’ll be so quick, in and out!” He’d promised.  “And then you can go home and I won’t bother you again!” 
Why she’d actually agreed to fly out to Tokyo for this mystery backup, she wasn’t sure.  Something must have clouded her judgment at that moment.  Now she just feels like facepalming.  How ridiculous was she for not asking more questions?
“Okay, okay,” Yuji huffs, clearly fighting hard against the stun of her cursed energy.  He’d seen it in action once or twice, but that would have happened years ago, and he certainly never felt it’s effect on himself before.
Paralyze was an interesting technique, with the ability to stun anything she pleases, (y/n) could render her enemies frozen and helpless with a slight wave of her hand.  Of course, it’s effects only last as long as she’s capable of holding them still.  The stronger the opponent, the weaker her technique.  So it doesn’t take long before Yuji’s squirming out of it’s hold, and soon (y/n) drops her technique completely.
“In case you haven’t noticed… we’re low on sorcerers around here,” He admits defeatedly.  (y/n) stays quiet, she didn’t need to say that she’d obviously noticed the empty halls and echo of every noise they made.  “Fushiguro’s busy with Zen’in politics, and ropes Maki into it more than she cares to be involved.  Okkotsu’s never free from assignments, Kugisaki and I take everything he can’t… we’re stretched thin, you know?” 
(y/n) nods in understanding, but she’s still waiting for him to explain the part where she comes in.
“And you need me to…? Take some exorcisms off your plate?” She tries to fill in the blank, but judging by the half wince Yuji gives her, she supposes her guess is wrong.
“Well… we actually need someone to help with the training aspect of-” 
“Not teaching” Her voice is monotone as she hopes he’s not about to tell her she’s been called here to chaperone a bunch of kids.
“Teaching…” Yuji finishes slowly, drawing out the word as if it will make the blow less painful.  It only makes it more painfully awkward.
“Itadori-!” Just as she starts to scold him, upset that she’s been lured out here under false pretenses, only to be asked to do the one thing she’d sworn she’d never do, they’re greeted by the rest of their company.
“(y/l/n)-san! Long time no see!” 
Panda is as warm of a presence as ever, though (y/n) had only met him a handful of times, he greets her as if they were long time friends being reunited.  For a brief moment, she actually relaxes.
And then she sees him.
Inumaki Toge somehow looks exactly the same, and like a completely different person from the last time she’d seen him.  His hair was a little shaggier, still covering his forehead and just barely sweeping over the deep violet eyes that feel more familiar than they should.  He still wears a collar with his uniform, a soft looking gray material that sits above the crisp black jacket that matches hers.
The more noticeable change, however, is his lack of a right arm.  (y/n) tries not to stare directly at the space where his bicep ends and his forearm was supposed to begin, but she’s sure he notices the way her eyes dart to and from the missing limb, quickly looking back at his face again.
She’s not too thrilled about looking at him at all, so she directs her attention back towards Panda, clearing her throat of the lump that seemed to form in the matter of seconds.
“Hi,” She greets him, and only him it seems, before going right into the matter at hand.  “Look, it’s not that I don’t want to help you out here-” 
“I’m so glad you came!” Panda cheers like she’s doing him the favor of the century.  “We really need all the help we can get, but I just want the best of the best!” 
(y/n) swallows thickly before another lump can form.
“And I knew you’d help out.  Besides, we can finally catch up! It’s been a long time” Panda continues chatting despite the clear discomfort on (y/n’s) face.  She wonders if he’s trying to guilt her, or if he’s just so delusional in thinking this was some special reunion.  She really hardly knew the Tokyo students back then.
Maki was probably the only one she’d be all that comfortable with, and she was nowhere to be found.
(y/n) shifted her weight back and forth, trying to find the right thing to say that would get her out of here as fast as possible.
“We can have some tea and chat about what your role will look like for the time being-” 
“I can’t” She blurts out.  Wrong thing to say.  The hallway feels even more empty now, her short words echoing off the high ceilings, leaving no room for misinterpretation between the other three sorcerers.
“Huh?” Panda hums, his head tilted to the side in his confusion.  “You can’t stay?”
“Look, I’m sorry and all, but when you called me I thought you needed help with a curse, okay? Not…” Her hands wave around vaguely gesturing to the space around them.  “Playing teacher” 
Inumaki snorts, and her eyes flicker towards him almost challengingly, as if asking what she’d said so wrong, but there was nothing but amusement in the part of his expression she could see, and she turns back towards Panda.
“I’m no use for that, alright?” She sighs.  “I would’ve told you, had I known, but this one-” Her finger points towards Itadori, who suddenly looks like he’s been caught red handed, “Decided to be cryptic. So,  Sorry, but no” 
“I see,” Panda replied, sounding like some of his energy had been drained by her rejection.  “Well, we could still have that tea?” 
She should’ve turned down that offer as well, because tea led to chatting, and chatting led to bonding, and it wasn’t long before Panda was pushing his offer again.
“It’s just… the kids could really use some help with their training…” He says as he stares into the near empty cup in his paw.  Somehow it looks even smaller when held by him.  “They’re good kids, you know? Respectful, kind… it would be so simple… monitoring some cursed technique use, maybe going on some Grade Four assignments…” 
(y/n) stares boredly at him as he goes on, describing the job like it’s the simplest position in the world.  As if she couldn’t remember watching the stress of it affect her own teacher back in the day.  Utahime’s frown lines were irreversible now.  Although that could partially be due to her Tokyo counterpart…
Her tired gaze shifts towards Yuji, who’s holding his mug in both hands and grinning from ear to ear.  Too hopeful for his own good.  The corners of her lips twitch, an undeniable urge to reciprocate his boundless joy.  She has to look away from him.
Inumaki appears less interested in the whole scheme.  He’d leaned away from the table as soon as he’d finished his tea.  With his hand planted behind him to keep him propped up, he’s the image of disinterest.  He’s not even watching Panda’s attempts at swaying (y/n’s) opinion, his eyes wandering the common room’s wall.  (y/n) finds herself also checking out the wall, trying to find whatever could hold his attention more than his friend’s useless rambling.  Besides a few picture frames and worn wallpaper, she can’t find anything worth her attention.
But when she turns away from it, Inumaki must have also lost interest, because he was looking directly at her.  She freezes up for a moment, a feeling eerily similar to her own cursed technique, before it creeps away and she finds herself averting her gaze as rapidly as she’s able.
Which lands her looking right back at Panda, who’s watching her with an open mouthed grin, clearly awaiting an answer to a question she hadn’t heard.
Shit, she hadn’t been listening?
“What did you say?” She asked, her eyebrows raising with a small hum at the end of her question.
“I’ll make sure that you aren’t bothered like this again,” Panda repeats his earlier statement.  “If we weren’t at the end of our rope, I wouldn’t be asking like this now… but it seems this is just the position we’ve found ourselves in,” He sighs, furry shoulders slumping.  “I’m just trying to do what I can to provide the best resources for these youngsters but I’m only one panda, and the world will always need sorcerers out there to-” 
“Alright then” 
In an instant, three pairs of eyes land on her, shock evident in all of them.  She can’t pretend to be surprised by their astonishment, as she’d been pretty stubborn prior to now.  She could say that she had a change of heart, that he swayed her with his kind words and positive outlook on guiding the students in his care.  
But truthfully? She didn’t think she’d forgive herself if she made Panda cry.
“You- you mean it?” Panda asks, disbelief evident in his tone, and in the way his mouth stayed hanging open.
“Yes,” She can’t help a short laugh escaping through her exhale.  “On the condition you don’t ask me any more favors” She adds, her finger in the air as she awaited Panda’s confirmation.
“Heard! Deal!” He hollered, his gape turning into a grin as his paw snatched up her hand and shook it wildly.  “You don’t understand how much this means, (y/l/n)-san!” 
“Oh, I’m starting to” She says with a wince of a smile as she pulls her hand away, flexing her sore fingers.
“I’ll show you where you’ll be staying!” Yuji leaps up from the ground and is at the door before (y/n) could even stand.  “And I’ll let someone know you’ll need a few changes in uniform, too” He adds as an afterthought, noticing her already wrinkled jacket from the last hour of sitting hunched over on the ground for tea.
Briefly glancing between Panda and Inumaki, she realizes she’s left with no choice but to get up and follow after Yuji, who seemed to be treating the whole ordeal like it was Christmas day.
Whether or not she could feel Inumaki’s gaze following her as she stood and left, she didn’t make clear.  Nonetheless his eyes lingered at the door even once she’d gone.
It’s not until Panda lets out a full belly laugh that the cursed speech user is pulled back into reality, and he furrows his brows at his old friend.
“Bonito flakes” He mutters with a shake of his head, before getting up and stretching his arm.  Leaning all of his weight on it for a while had it feeling tender, but the scowl on his face was completely due to Panda.
“What?” Panda asks, his voice hitting a higher octave, knowing exactly why his friend was being snarky.  “You stared at her the whole time, I’m not even sure you blinked!” 
Toge rolls his eyes just as he rolls his shoulder to work out the soreness.  So full of shit, he thinks, but he can’t help the growing smile behind his collar, as he can’t exactly deny the accusation.
But what can he say? He’d only met the girl for a short time, years ago, and it was enough to leave a lasting impression.  At least enough that he was eager to meet her again- even if she didn’t share the thrill of her visit.  He’d just have to find a way to help her enjoy her time here.
“Good luck getting her to actually enjoy it here,” Panda huffs, reading his mind as always.  Toge gives him a curious look, waiting for any bright ideas.  Unfortunately, Panda wasn’t exactly optimistic about (y/n’s) time here.  “Maki calls her the off grid sorcerer for a reason,” 
Toge wants to call him out on that, because sometimes Maki does saki bombs and likes to gossip, but for some reason, the words fail him.
“She’s dodged every request to teach, or even show up at any events held at the schools,” Panda explains.  “Maki says she hates jujutsu sorcery” 
That earns another eye roll from Toge.  It just didn’t make sense, who could she hate jujutsu sorcery, when she was actively still a jujutsu sorcerer?
“Ikura” Toge dismisses him with a lame wave of his hand.  It was stupid, and he wasn’t going to get into a stupid argument.  Maybe it was silly to feel this defensive over a high school crush that probably barely remembered him, but if Panda was going to be this childish, then so could he.
“Fine, do your best,” Panda says, standing to follow his friend out of the room.  “But I’d be impressed if you found a way to make her feel otherwise” 
Challenge accepted, Toge thinks to himself as he meanders back towards his own quarters.  
Step one would be getting to know her, properly, like he’d wanted to years ago.  And step two would be finding a way to make her stay.
That couldn’t be too hard, could it? 
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
(y/n) never forgot the revenge she swore she’d take on Inumaki had she ever seen his face again.  She can’t ignore the small spike of bitterness in her chest whenever she sees him.
But she’s not sure what to do with that feeling now.
She’s standing in the classroom that supposedly belonged to Maki when she was around.  It was empty, too early for any students to arrive just yet, but she’d wanted to get there early.  That way she’d be settled in and ready for whatever this day was going to be.  She’d been mulling over what she was supposed to do when the students got here for so long that she’s not sure when she’d wandered to the window and began to watch the scene below.
Outside, Inumaki is standing on the steps with three students- probably his students- and he’s making various rapid hand movements.  Wait, was that sign language? She was on the second story, so even if she’d opened the window she probably wouldn’t have heard what they were talking about, but even without listening in, it seemed that the students understood their teacher perfectly.
She was certain he hadn’t used any sign language yesterday, she tried to recall the events of the day, but it was so fast paced and confusing from start to finish that she just couldn’t remember any communications from Inumaki’s end.
Besides a sarcastic chuckle.
“Are you (y/l/n)-senpai?” 
She almost jumps as she turns around, not having heard the footsteps approaching the classroom.
There stood two students, a boy and a girl, each wearing the same uniform.  The familiar black jackets and crisp slacks had her stomach knotting up with the realization of what she was doing here.
“Just (y/l/n),” She corrects, her voice sounding a bit strained.  She clears her throat before any more weird sounds could be made.  “I’m not your teacher, I’m just… filling in” 
“So… like a substitute teacher?” The boy deadpans.
Great.  He’s got an attitude.  If only she were Mai, she’d have that snark smacked out of his tone with one, well, smack.
“Hardly.  More of a supervisor,” (y/n) replies with a tight lipped smile.  “So… what is it you’re working on right now?” 
“Cursed techniques” The girl replies.  Her voice is much softer than her snarky little friend.  There’s a politeness in it that (y/n’s) grateful for.  She’s not really looking for these kids to respect her, but if they were nice it’d definitely make the next couple weeks go by smoothly.
“Easy enough,” (y/n) shrugs.  “Why don’t you explain your techniques to me and we’ll go from there” 
As she should have expected, it was not easy enough.  All those two did was argue, and when they weren’t arguing, they were struggling through their cursed techniques like a five year old getting their training wheels taken off.  If that five year old was blind and toppled off the bike and broke both legs in the process.  (y/n) found herself ready for a beer by lunchtime, and she wasn’t even sure if there was any alcohol on campus.  She’d have to do a grocery run later for some necessities.  If every day was going to be like this, she’d need a twenty-four pack.
She’d come out to the lawn for her lunch break, a blank notebook and pen in hand with the hopes of drawing up some kind of lesson plan.  A grocery list seemed more like the pressing matter now, though.
It must just be a spacey day for her, because when Inumaki Toge approaches the table, she realizes she hadn’t noticed him until he was standing right there before her.  His hand is in his pocket, and despite his face being half covered, she can tell he’s wearing a kind look.
Not knowing how she felt about him yet, she shifts in her seat on the bench.  She’s sure it’s rude to stare, and it’s dumb to expect him to explain what he wanted, but she’s not sure what to say either.
“Mustard leaf?” 
Huh?
Her confusion must’ve been evident, because Inumaki pulls his hand out of his pocket and points at her notebook and pen.
“Oh,” She mumbles absentmindedly, before passing the pen and paper to him.  “Is that how you ask for things?” 
She cringes at her own question, and if she wasn’t already embarrassed she would have smacked her hand to her head, too.  Inumaki doesn’t seem bothered though, as he just nods his head and begins to write in her notebook.
When he hands it back to her he keeps hold of her pen.  Was this his way of trying to have a conversation? This time she’s not stupid enough to actually ask that, but her curiosity gets the best of her as she grabs the notebook to read what he wrote quickly.
Hi.
Her eyes flicker between the page and him a few times, disbelief turning her lips into a small smile.
“Hi…” She replies, quieter than intended.
Inumaki chuckles, and beckons her to pass the notebook back to him.  (y/n) has a feeling the rest of her lunch hour would look like this.  This time she watches him as he scrawls on the page again, and this time it seems he’s writing more than two letters.
With his attention on his writing, she doesn’t feel so worried about staring at his bright violet eyes.  The last time she’d really gotten a good look at them was five years ago, and she was sure she’d never seen anyone with eyes quite like his.  That still holds true.
Inumaki passes the notebook back again.
Are you having a good first day? 
She snorts, and Inumaki takes that to mean it wasn’t a great start.
“I couldn’t have been more clear that I wasn’t meant to be a teacher,” (y/n) shakes her head, and leans back a bit into the bench.  Inumaki’s eyes shift to the space next to her, and she finds herself shifting to make room for him to sit.  He doesn’t need a verbal offer in order to sit beside her.  “I don’t understand how anyone could enjoy this”
Inumaki holds his hand out for the notebook once more, and (y/n) passes it to him.  She wonders if he ever got tired of communicating like this.  But just as the question passes her mind, she’s sure he’s grown used to the exhaustion of living this way long ago.  So she begins to wonder when he began to accept it.  As he writes, she realizes she actually has a lot of curiosities surrounding him.
The old bitterness begins to chip away the more she lets her mind wander.  Maybe that bitterness was childish and stupid, anyways.  Or, maybe it was just that she was a child when that grudge had taken form.
Toge passes her the notebook again.  She can’t see that he’s smiling, but there’s crinkles at the corners of his eyes that tell her he must be.
Have you tried drinking on the job? 
(y/n) glances between the note and Toge, who seems to be barely holding it together behind his mask.  It’s not until she lets out the faintest of laughs that he begins to cackle, shaking his head asif to say ‘I’m just kidding!’ as though she couldn’t have put that together.
Maybe Inumaki Toge wasn’t at all who she thought he was.  
It sort of turned out that she hadn’t known him at all.
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
It didn’t take long for a little routine to be established.  It seemed to have happened without anyone’s say in it.  (y/n) would find a spot for lunch and Inumaki just seemed to gravitate towards that spot.  They’d eat their lunches and grade papers together while passing a notebook back and forth for communication, and it just seemed to… work.  
Some days (y/n) would even write her responses underneath his own written words.  Sometimes it just seemed like the fair thing to do, but she couldn’t deny, the peace and quiet could be nice.
Toge has to tap the end of his pencil against the table a few times to get (y/n) to snap out of her brain fog and finally notice the note he’d written her.  She gives him an apologetic look once consciousness had brightened her eyes again, before directing her attention to the notebook.
Toge smiles to himself, already going back to the paper he was grading.
I’ve got an assignment in Yokohama later.  Just a Grade Two though.  Want to come with? :)
(y/n’s) brow lifts in his direction, but he’s too busy reading one of his students’ work to notice.  Her eyes only liner for a few extra seconds before she makes a hum to get his attention.  He mimics the hum.
“All this work aging you faster? Is that what you’re telling me?” She asks.  Her finer absentmindedly taps at his neat handwriting.  “Can’t handle assignments alone anymore?” 
Inumaki scoffs, his eyes briefly flickering away from his work, just long enough to show his lack of amusement with her dry form of teasing.  He doesn’t get much more done before he’s bringing their talking notebook back to his side of the table and writing in it again.  (y/n) doesn’t bother to go back to her own work.  After five days of this little routine she’s come to realize this block of time in her day wasn’t meant for getting work done.  It was meant for… 
She gets the feeling Inumaki’s smiling to himself under his collar.
… whatever this was.
He looks up at her when he’s finished, catching her eyes already on him, and he’s sure that she blushes just a little bit, but any trace of it is gone when she reaches over for the notebook and lifts it to read.  A strategic choice to cover the lower half of her face.  Toge tries not to feel too defeated, it’s only fair after all.
I meant to hang out, dummy.  I don’t mean to brag you’d only slow me down out there.  But I do know a great tea shop.
She’s glad that the notebook hides her face, because she can’t have him seeing how quickly a few words can make her smile.  Only of course because she doesn’t want him getting the wrong idea.
There’s been a few occurrences of that feeling in the past couple days of spending her lunch breaks with Inumaki.  An odd feeling, like there’s a lump in her throat, but her heartbeat starts to get ahead of itself.  It’s like adrenaline, but seemingly without a cause.  So far she’d been able to brush the feeling off, trying not to think too much of it.
“You would be grateful if you had a partner like me out there,” She says matter of factly, before dropping the notebook back on the table.  “Sending you on a Grade Two mission, you almost have to wonder if the higher ups think you’re slow enough on your own?”
That earns her another scoff, this time accompanied by an even longer blank stare.  She has to bite back her smile before it can grow too wide, but she can’t help a little laugh at his uninterested expression.  For as much of a jokester as Inumaki was, he sure didn’t react when he was the one being teased.
“Yeah yeah, I hear you,” (y/n) huffs, finally looking back at her stack of papers that she should’ve graded by now.  “Tea does sound good.  Let me know when you’re headed out later” 
Again, she ignores the fluttery feeling when they swap phones to exchange numbers so they could form a plan later.  It was unrelated, she’s sure.  But she’s still not so sure what that feeling was all about to begin with.
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
There was a skip to Inumaki’s step that couldn’t go unnoticed, especially not by his colleagues, who happened to watch him heading out to the courtyard and decided to involve themselves without even a single word shared.
“I’ve never seen you off to a mission so jazzed!” Itadori practically sings, his grin wide, his eyebrows dancing, oh, he’s so onto him.
“Bonito flakes” 
“So you didn’t brush your hair before going on an assignment?” Panda accuses, but his paw gets swatted away before he can run his hand through the luscious blonde locks of perfectly clean and dried hair.  
No one showers before an assignment.  What’s the point?
“Bonito flakes!” Toge repeats himself a little louder this time, his eyes darting around the area to be sure no one else was around to hear this interaction.
This doesn’t go unseen by his friends- who seem extra persistent on bothering him today.
“Oh wow! So it’s like a… date assignment?” Itadori asks.  He makes the extra effort to also ensure no one else was lingering around, his grin only growing as he checks over both shoulders before lowering his voice.  “That sounds hot, good for you man” 
Toge rolls his eyes, then shakes his head.
“What are you up to then?” Panda asks.
“It’s not a date?” Itadori’s grin falls into a frown.
Toge’s hand moves in a swift motion, from a fist with his thumb jutted out to his palm up so quick if you’d blink you would’ve missed it.  Somehow he’d managed to pour as much attitude into his signed question of ‘how?’ in one little hand movement as possible.  It’s clear it works too, because Panda winces and Itadori begins to scratch the back of his neck.
Sure, Inumaki had been excited to spend some time with (y/n) away from the school.  Maybe he had taken a shower before his assignment, so what? It was normal to want to be presentable right? He just wanted to be decent company…
“Oh, you’ve got it bad!” Panda hollers, not seeming to care that his voice booms and echos off the high ceiling, likely bouncing down all the corridors for anyone to hear.
Today, Toge is grateful that jujutsu society is dying.
“Bonito flakes!” He hisses, smacking his bear friend as hard as he could.  It wasn’t hard enough, as the belting laughter was even louder than his voice.
“Not too hard to find you guys, huh?” 
Toge doesn’t hide the fact that he nearly leaps out of his skin as he swivels around to see (y/n) standing there, an amused look on her face as she eyes the laughing pair, before turning towards the cursed speech user with a more curious expression.  Being a sorcerer of his caliber, she was surprised she was able to startle him at all.  But it’s clear when his eyes first land on her, it’s as if he’s seen a ghost.
He’s quick to calm down, relaxation returning to his shoulders and the only tension remaining in his body coming from the worry that his so called friends were going to say something stupid like- 
“Wow you’re in uniform! Haven’t seen Toge take up a partner in a while.  Unless Yuuta’s around,” Panda says, and (y/n) merely shrugs, looking over her usual attire.  “You’re probably a better date than Yuuta, though” 
“Ikura” Toge hisses, side eyeing his oldest friend with a look in his eye warning him that his next words wouldn’t be rice ball ingredients.
“I think Yuuta would be a good date” Yuji said thoughtfully, eyes wandering about as though he were really considering the date-ability of the older sorcerer.
It does the trick in moving the group’s attention away from the previous awkward thing, this one being far more enticing to latch onto, and while normally Toge would participate in the goofing off, at the moment he can only feel relief that (y/n) hadn’t seemed to dwell on the ‘date’ comment.
“He’d be a good date if he could sit down for long enough to actually date” Panda replies, and it’s not long before he and Yuji have launched themselves into an argument about it.
In the heat of the fight, (y/n’s) eyes catch Toge’s, and it only takes one motion of her head before they’re both speeding out of there.
“I didn’t realize they were crushing on Okkotsu so hard,” She’s the first to speak, once they’re far enough away there’s no chance of anyone overhearing.  “If I knew him better I would’ve given my two cents” She added in a near mutter, clearly meant for her own amusement under her breath, but Toge heard and asked about it anyways.
“Mustard leaf?” 
“Like I said, I don’t really know the guy-” She started to protest, but Toge clearly had invested an interest in her opinion.
“Mustard leaf mustard leaf mustard leaf-” 
“Alright!” She has to shout over his incessant pestering.  “He seems like a good guy and all but he’s not… my preference in company.  Is that good enough?” 
His collar is zipped up as per usual, but his cheeky grin seems to permeate through it anyways.  (y/n) has to roll her eyes to remind him just how ridiculous of a conversation this was.  Reiterating the fact that she’d barely met Okkotsu Yuuta once didn’t seem to do the trick in explaining that she couldn’t exactly form an opinion on him when they hadn’t even been introduced to one another, merely crossed paths back in the day when the end of the world seemed to closing in.
“Salmon cod roe” 
But the world hadn’t ended.  And now somehow, she found herself here.  Teaching in Tokyo, and keeping the company of a cursed speech user from the notorious Inumaki Clan.  And… she enjoyed herself.
She hoped it didn’t show too much, keeping her expression neutral on the ride to Yokohama as Toge scrolled through the case file of his assignment.  Occasionally he’d tilt his phone in her direction so she could read up on it as well, sometimes she’d give him her thoughts on it, but the few words that came out were nothing compared to the calculations she was making behind her eyes.  He could tell just from the look in her eyes that she had more plots in her mind than the small things she shared.
Toge wondered if she was always silent when she schemed, or if this was her attempt at not overstepping a non-existent boundary.  Truthfully, he would’ve loved to hear her thoughts on how best to exorcize this curse.  He would have found a way to ask her, but he didn’t want all of their conversation tonight to revolve around work.  Jujutsu, curses, and everything in between was on the back burner for now.  Or at least, once he wrapped up this assignment.
And as expected, the assignment took less time than the time they spent traveling.  (y/n) barely got a good look at the Grade Two before it was told to drop dead and- well, it dropped dead.  She didn’t exactly expect Inumaki to need any assistance, he’d made it pretty clear that her company wasn’t needed on the assignment.  However, seeing him in action up close was…
It’s just that she’d somehow let herself forget just how powerful the Inumaki Clan was.  Maybe she’d separated Toge from the rest of the clan in her mind, but watching him exorcize a curse and then zip up his collar again in the matter of a minute and a half was…
She has to clear her throat and make herself appear busy checking the content of her purse as they leave the site.  The heart of Yokohama, and the tea shop, was a little bit of a walk.  Luckily Inumaki was busy gulping down two- no, three- bottles of cough medicine.  By the time the third is gulped down, (y/n) finds her voice.  Her thoughts, however, are still a bit muddled.
“Do you want to stop for another?” She asks, gesturing to the empty mini bottle he’d just shoved into his pocket.  “Looks like there’s a convenience store right here” 
His eyes follow her gaze, but there’s an uncertainty in them as he seemingly ignores the offer.
“What?” (y/n) frowns as they grow nearer to the store without planning on stopping in.  “Clearly your throat hurts, since you’re throwing back that medicine like it’s tequila” 
That earns her a curious look, a raised eyebrow questioning her choice of drink.  But this time, it’s her turn to ignore him.
“C’mon, we’ll be quick” She says, turning to head into the store with or without him.
Toge huffs, but finds his feet dragging behind her path anyways.
(y/n) hovers around as Toge picks up two more bottles of cough syrup.  She makes a face when he chooses bubblegum, her nose wrinkling at the all-too childish choice.  Toge’s question of her disgust doesn’t need to be voiced with a rice ball ingredient.
“Bubblegum?” She asked, eyes locking on the medicine in his hand before looking up at him again.  “Are you five?” 
His eyes roll, but it’s quick enough that he’s still able to catch the smile she’s trying to bite back.
She might not have his little language perfectly translated in her mind, but she has a pretty good feeling that he’s cursing her out with a few muttered ikuras under his breath.  She barely hides her laughter as she follows him to the counter.
It’s hard not to notice the way the clerk stares.  She knows they’re not trying to be rude, they are an odd pair at the counter.  In matching black uniforms and three arms between them- not to mention Toge’s in a collar that makes him look like he could be casing the joint- but still, something unsettles her the longer the girl on the other side of the counter stares.
Knowing that saying something about the staring would make things worse, she decides to keep her mouth shut as Toge exchanges the money for his medicine.  But that doesn’t mean she’s not making a perfectly clear point by staring down the cashier with an intensity she’s only ever felt while staring a curse straight in it’s soulless eyes.  She gets a much more pleasing reaction from the non-sorcerer though.  As soon as their eyes cross paths, they’re much quicker in retrieving Toge’s change and receipt.  (y/n) can’t help the smug smile on her face once they’re able to turn and leave the store, the clerk barely able to mumble out a ‘have a good night’.
Toge may have had a small bit of tunnel vision opening up his medicine and chugging down the relieving, bubblegum tasting fluid.  But he was a trained jujutsu sorcerer, he could tell when there was suspicious activity in his peripherals.  And (y/n’s) fixed gaze on the corner store’s window was rather odd.
He gives her a look, but she’s more focused than he had been, and it takes a small nudge to her elbow to disconnect her hunter’s glare.
“What?” She asks, innocent and curious.
With his collar unzipped from his earlier medicine-chugging, she can see the awkward smile he wears as he questions her silently.  She knows what he’s trying to ask, but she feigns confusion and tries to brush off the moment.  Inumaki lets her, but only on the condition that she seems to give him the attention she’d previously fixed on the store.
With his throat feeling healed and the pleasantness of bubblegum replacing the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, Toge continues on their walk towards the tea shop he’d been looking forward to all day.  One cup of tea from there would do better work than five bottles of cough syrup- no matter the delicious pink flavor.
(y/n) tries to put the experience at the corner store behind her as they walk in a comfortable silence.  It wasn’t her place to take offense from the staring anyways, she’s sure Inumaki’s been on the receiving end of odd looks and lingering eyes his whole life.
Still, it makes her uneasy to think about him being treated differently than anyone else.  It wasn’t fair.
Wanting to put an end to their silence, Inumaki pulls out his phone and starts typing.
[inumaki toge]: the least you could do is be the chatty one btw
(y/n) feels the buzz of a notification in her pocket, but she pays it no mind at all.  It takes a laugh and a nudge from Inumaki for her to realize he’s the one texting her, and she laughs awkwardly with him as she pulls her phone out.
They continue to text rapidly back and forth as they walk.
[y/n]: it’s rude to text when you have company btw 
[inumaki toge]: would u rather i just curse u then
[y/n]: would U rather i just DIE then ?? 
[inumaki toge]: ur just grouchy that u didn’t get to exorcize that curse :p
She looks up at him then, fixing him a glare that just couldn’t have been conveyed the same way from an emoji.  He stares back at her for a minute, a smile that was a little too cocky on his face.  Her hard set eyes wander his face for a moment, she’d still never gotten used to seeing those markings on display, but the furrow in her brow remained.
He turns away to type again, and seconds later her phone vibrates in her hands.
[inumaki toge]: i looked pretty cool tho didn’t i? was i impressive? i’m thinking about being the first jujutsu influencer.
She barks out a laugh so unexpected that they both share the same look of surprise on their faces.  A softer, more bashful laugh comes out at her as she nods her head in confirmation.
“Yeah, Inumaki.  You looked very cool” Even the word comes out like it’s an immature compliment, but a compliment nonetheless.  He beams back at her.
[inumaki toge]: just toge.
“Okay” (y/n) nods at her phone, her lips moving like she’s going to call him by his preferred name, but no sound comes out, and she finds herself closing her mouth just as quickly.
[inumaki toge]: otherwise i’ll feel like ur teacher.  and that’s weird.
“Well, to be fair, you’re sort of my teacher,” She says, turning away from her phone to speak directly to him.  “You know, you’ve taught me how to teach,” She clarifies.  With an absent mind she tucks her phone back into her pocket.  “I know I agreed to it and all, but I probably would’ve walked out a few days ago if it weren’t for you.  I definitely don’t have the patience for this job- or any qualifications, actually,” 
Toge snorts and shakes his head with his disbelief in her.  She might not have sought out this job, but she didn’t have to be so hard on herself.
“Seriously, I think my students would have killed each other if it weren’t for your guidance.  Now they actually… almost tolerate each other.  It’s a miracle, really” 
Inumaki types on his phone again.
[inumaki toge]: don’t give us too much credit.  that would’ve happened eventually
“You think?” (y/n) scoffs, recalling how her pair of students were at each other’s throats when she met them.
[inumaki toge]: ofc.  they’re crazy about each other XD
“What!?” (y/n) shrieks as her eyes scan over his text a few more times before turning to him.  “Did you get cursed back there or something?” She accuses, a wild look in her eye and a grin of disbelief on her lips.  But a smile nonetheless, Toge returns it.  “They can’t stand each other!” 
He shrugs a shoulder, his smile softening with his gaze as he watches her struggle to understand where he was coming from.
“You know I don’t let them spar with each other right? They’re too rough! They’ll hurt each other more than they could get hurt out on an assignment” 
Toge chuckles, his teeth showing through his grin as he shakes his head at her before sending another message.  His amusement practically glowed through his features, so much so (y/n) couldn’t tear her eyes away from him while he was texting.
[inumaki toge]: sounds like rising tension to me~ 
[inumaki toge]: fr tho they had a thing for each other before you took over for fushiguro.  they’re at each other’s throats 24hrs a day but only cuz they got it bad.
“Got it bad?” (y/n) repeats in a mumble to herself.  She gives him a deadpan look, silently telling him she thought he was an insane person, but Toge only grins back at her.
“Salmon cod roe” He shrugs again, but before the conversation could go any further, he’s pointing to their destination and they’re crossing the street.  
As they enter the tea shop, (y/n) makes a mental note not to forget what he’d said.  Maybe she would feel differently when she saw her students tomorrow.  Inumaki- Toge- had known them longer than her, maybe he was onto something.
It’s pretty quiet inside, only a few other people sitting around the small cafe.  Some with company, talking quietly so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere for the others dining alone, accompanied only by a book or their studies.  The quietness, surprisingly, isn’t unsettling to (y/n).  She actually smiles contentedly as they find a two-seated table near the window.  There’s menus already placed at the table, although small, their detailing is adorable.  (y/n’s) compelled to pick one up and scan over it, despite having known exactly what she was going to order before walking in.
Toge lifts the other menu off the table, just enough to appear as though he was giving it a glance, but anyone paying attention would have seen that he hadn’t taken his eyes off of his company since they’d sat down.
“I think I’ll just get what I- what?” 
(y/n) starts to speak, but when she lifts her gaze from the paper she finds Toge staring at her so blatantly she can’t be bothered to finish her thought.  Her voice softens upon catching his eyes, suddenly nervous, although she can’t explain why, perhaps she’d just worried that she’d disturbed the quiet peace of the shop.
Toge shakes his head, assuring her there was nothing on his mind, and while she relaxes some knowing that he wasn’t trying to silently warn her about some unknown rule of speaking, her heart had yet to stop skipping every other beat as she waits for the rest of the explanation as to why he’d been staring.
He opens his mouth, and for a second the both of them almost forget.  Forget that he’s not going to say something of substance, something real.  They both wait for that split second for him to say what’s on his mind.  And they share a sheepish smile when he closes his mouth again, biting his lip before the smile could do a 180 and kill the vibe.
(y/n) winces for him when his eyes return to the menu, and she watches his hand reach for the zipper to his collar.  She’s compelled to tell him to leave it open- although she doesn’t find the courage for such words before a waitress strolls by for their order.
Toge points to the tea he wants on the menu, and she finds herself following suit when it’s her turn to order.  She can feel his eyes on her, wide with surprise as she wordlessly places her order, but once the waitress disappears, it’s silent between them again.
She struggles to look at him, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she can’t help herself from doing so.  He’d closed his collar only halfway, barely enough to cover the markings on his face, and yet enough to reveal whenever he smiled or winced or frowned.  Her eyes keep wandering around the room before going back to him, again and again, each time looking somewhere new.  The smallest peek of black ink near his mouth, the wisps of blonde hair that fell at the tips of his ears, the violet eyes that seemed to hold all the words his mouth couldn’t say.  Maybe that’s why it was so hard to look at him- it was the intensity.
“You’re being really quiet” She says after a few minutes of looking and looking away.  Toge’s stunned for a moment, before a laugh bursts through at the odd comment.  
The corner of her lips twitch momentarily, proud of her attempt to make him laugh working.
He pulls his phone out, laying it on the table to type easier with one hand, poking about on the screen like a child learning how to use a keyboard.  (y/n) pulls her own phone out as she awaits his message, but she keeps her attention on him as she does.  With his focus on the screen, there’s less of an intensity for her to stare into.
[inumaki toge]: found this place on an assignment here last year.  the tea is magic.  better than rct
“That so?” (y/n) hums as she’s typing back a response.  Toge hums in confirmation.  She doesn’t realize that as she types, he keeps his attention on her, just as she’d done for him.
[y/n]: i’ve ordered the same thing since i was a kid, so hopefully it doesn’t disappoint 
[inumaki toge]: that’s a lot of pressure to put on tea
[y/n]: no, the pressure is all on you 
[inumaki toge]: so it’s my fault if you don’t like the same cup of tea you’ve had all your life? 
“Mhm” (y/n) hums, lifting her head from the screen to catch his reaction, only again to find him already staring at her.  
The amused smirk she’d been wearing as they texted back and forth faltered, replaced by a soft surprise that Toge grew quite fond of seeing on her, even for a moment.  He doesn’t think about how his gaze is so obviously focused on her lips, because he doesn’t really think about anything at all.  With a blank mind he’s able to better appreciate her beauty.
(y/n’s) not sure what the look on his face means, she’s not able to read it as well as she’s typically able, and the realization makes her nervous again.  She can feel warmth spreading in her cheeks, and a similar feeling spiking in her chest.  What was that? 
Toge’s eyes shift up to hers, and he lets himself enjoy the way she sits there with her own eyes so wide he knows she’s waiting for him to explain the long silent stare.  Momentarily, he’s grateful for an ability such as his.  He doesn’t have to deliver an explanation in a timely manner, if at all.  He could keep on staring, and try his best to communicate his train of thought with his eyes alone.
“So… how much sign language do you know?” (y/n) asked, her voice quieter than she intended it to be.  
It can’t be explained, but everything suddenly feels more intimate now.  Like if she were to speak in a volume above a whisper, the rest of the world would come back into view.  But the rest of the world remains a watercolor background, and all she knows is sitting at this table.
Toge flattens his hand and shakes it back and forth, indicating a little, before he quickly types at his phone.
[inumaki toge]: learning a little here and there.  for the kids really.  panda is trying too.
(y/n) nods.  “Is there anything worth teaching?” 
Toge smiles, and for a few minutes he shows her a few motions for her to repeat before he texts her their meaning.  She gets the basics down pretty easy, such as introductions and greetings.  He doesn’t know how much he should teach her, but soon enough the waitress is returning with their tea and the topic moves on to something new again anyways.
He waits to take a sip of his, too curious to watch (y/n’s) first reaction to her own drink.
There’s something so plainly pretty about the picture before him that if it wouldn’t be odd, he would raise his phone and snap the picture to retain it’s memory in a physical form.  The way she captivates his entire attention has him feeling like he’s seventeen again.  Some of it might have to do with the warm lighting, the quiet atmosphere, but his thoughts are on such a simple track of adoration that he doesn’t think too much about how pretty her hands look gently wrapped around the mug- just that they are pretty.  
She’s pretty.  
And he’s… a goner.
She’s smiling when she lowers her drink after a sip, and Toge releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“It’s good,” She voices her opinion after a moment, her hands still wrapped around the mug even as she rests it on the table.  “Definitely worth the trip out here.  Even if I didn’t get to have any of the fun” 
The movement of Toge’s hand is quick, as he gestures downward before tapping his nose and repeating the same motion.  He does it a second time just for the emphasis of trying to communicate something to her.  It takes her a moment to understand, but despite having a very minimal understanding of sign language, she comes to her conclusion quicker than he would have thought.
“Fun,” She repeats the motion he’d made, two fingers tapping her nose before bringing her hand downwards towards the table.  Toge nods in affirmation, a smile breaking across his face at her quick wit.  “This is fun?” She makes her guess at what he’d said, and his smile only widens as he nods again.  “This is fun,” The second time she repeated it was to reaffirm the motion in her mind, hoping a mental note would help her remember the small bit of signing for later.  
Then, for a third time, she quietly repeats “This is fun”, and Toge seems to understand that she was agreeing with his statement.  This is fun.  They’re having fun.  Together.  Like this.
It’s quiet between them as they sip their tea, but it’s not an awkward silence.  It’s comfortable, sitting together in the quaint shop and enjoying their warm drinks.  Time seems to fly by even without conversation, and they find themselves paying and leaving before they know it.
There seems to be no rush on their walk to the train station.  Neither of them even bother to check the schedule on the way.  Tokyo would be there no matter what time they returned, they were sure.
The silence lingers for a bit longer, but eventually Toge can’t help but pull out his phone and strike up a conversation.
[inumaki toge]: maybe next time i’ll let you do the exorcizing 
(y/n) shoots him a look when she reads his text, her brow raised but the rest of her face so expressionless it’s hard for him to get a read on what she’s thinking.  He’s starting to get the feeling that she likes it that way.
[y/n]: next time? 
He doesn’t need to text her when he can just nod his head.  Her lips twitch, but she manages to keep them in a straight enough line that he still can’t tell what she’s thinking about.  Nonetheless, he beams back at her, and he holds her stare for a moment longer than he should have before he’s texting her again.
[inumaki toge]: you seem thrilled
(y/n) lets out a dry laugh at the equally dry message.
“I’m only around a couple more days,” She replies, and the disappointment Toge feels is immediate and obvious in the way he deflates.  Still, she continues to explain, “Tokyo might have a curse issue, but it can’t be so bad they have to send their best and brightest every night, hm?” 
There’s hesitation in his eyes as he thinks about what he should type out next.  (y/n’s) grown rather patient with the way he communicates, so she doesn’t seem to realize that his silence isn’t due to the limitations of Cursed Speech.
Even once he begins typing, his thumb is slow.
[inumaki toge]: you’d be surprised.  tokyo might need a little extra help
He glances over at her as she reads his message, and his thumb begins to type out a second message before she could reply first.
[inumaki toge]: you could always stay a little longer
Again, he watches her as she watches her screen.  Where her thumbs had previously hovered over her keyboard, she moves them away now.  Leaving no intention of texting back a response.  Toge feels the pace of his heart begin to slow as the organ plummets to his stomach.  Suddenly filled with dread, he fixates his stare on the station ahead of them.  He thinks if he were to look at her now, when she’s so clearly rejected the idea, that she would see the disappointment on his face.
Without a word or text shared, the pair get inside and track down the evening schedule.  Toge’s pretty sure that there’s a faster pace to her steps than before.  The dread only worsens at the thought that suddenly she’s in a rush just to wait for a train.
Once they’re stopped again, (y/n) lets out a sigh and turns towards him.  He waits for her to begin her explanation, her rejection, but it takes a few more seconds before she actually voices her thoughts.
“It’s not a surprise… right?” Is the first thing she slowly says, and Toge can’t say he understands what she means.  He can’t really say anything, but this is different.  “I mean, I agreed to two weeks, you were there,” 
His brows furrowed into a bored look, and she winced.
“And I told you I wasn’t cut out for the whole teaching thing, I’ve barely been getting by- and I might hate it sometimes but I do miss assignments you know” 
In a stressed, jerky movement, Toge raises his phone and shakes it, reminding her of the offer he’d just given her.  (y/n) frowns, and he groans as he types a quick text.
[inumaki toge]: if you really wanted, you could take assignments here
He can tell it doesn’t make a difference when her face doesn’t change upon reading it.  He huffs again, a muttered “Ikura” under his breath, which she hears and bristles up to right away.
“Hey,” The offense in her tone is clear, and Toge’s partially surprised she even understood what he meant.  “I don’t understand why you’re getting upset, I’ve been clear from the minute I got here that I’d be leaving when the time was up.  And time’s up” 
With a glare that he can’t help, Toge texts her again.
[inumaki toge]: you’re not leaving.  you’re running away
“I am not!” She argues, her voice raising more than she wanted it to.  A few other people waiting for the train send the pair a dirty look for disrupting the peace and quiet of an empty train station, but she pays them no mind as she continues arguing.  “I’m going home.  I don’t live here and I don’t want to live here- I didn’t want to be here to begin with, remember?” 
[inumaki toge]: but then things changed.
“No, they didn’t” (y/n) replies, focusing on her screen.
[inumaki toge]: yes they did and you know it
“That doesn’t even matter.  I was never going to stay” 
[inumaki toge]: it does matter.  it matters because you don’t really want to leave, and i really don’t want you to go.
Her head darts upward and she stares at him now, the weight of the confession hitting her harder than either of them would have thought.  Her typical neutral expression is washed away by something else- something serious, and almost concerned.  Her brows are knitted together as she stares at him as if she’s waiting for him to speak.  Eyes round and lips parted around words that aren’t coming to her fast enough, they stand silently and stare at each other.
Before the right thing to say could come to her, the ring signaling the train was pulling in began to go off, and shortly after the train entered the station.  The expected chaos of it all- the screech of metal on metal, the sudden gust of air whipping around hair and clothes- it feels nonexistent as they stand there together.
Nothing happens.  The train comes to a stop, the doors open, and Toge tilts his head to beckon her to follow him onto the car.  (y/n) follows a few paces behind.  An indescribable but momentary paralyzing sensation buzzing through her legs as she forces them to move.
They take their seats, phones in hand but no messages being typed between them.  (y/n’s) leg begins to bounce the longer Toge stares out the window without a thought to share.
She hates the anxious feeling that settles under her skin the longer they sit like this.
“You know…” Her voice is a mumble when she finds the courage to speak, ten minutes into their ride.  “It’s not like I hated my time here,” 
It does the trick in getting him to look at her, at least.  But he makes no effort to text, or sign.  Instead, he just stares blankly, telling her that it wasn’t good enough.  She frowns, holding his stare.
“And it’s not like I’d never come back” 
This time he scoffs, an unamused smile on his face as he shakes his head.  The bitterness wafting off of him is almost as strong as his cursed energy.  Without words, text, or movement, he’s able to say you’re not coming back, as clear as day.
“I would come back,” (y/n) argues quietly, and his violet eyes drift back to her with the realization that she seemed to understand exactly what he was thinking.  If only she would extend the same ability to him, so he wouldn’t have to decipher all the layers of bullshit she uses to cover what she really thinks.  “I would” She says it again, a certainty in her eyes that tells him she’s being sincere.
Toge huffs in defeat, unlocking his phone.
[inumaki toge]: what is it that you’re so insistent to go back to?
He doesn’t mean for it to be a harsh message, but that doesn’t make the blow to her ego any easier.  But she knows he’s not wrong, either.  There’s no family she’s in contact with.  Her work leaves her no time for friendships, either.  She doesn’t even have a pet.  All she has is an undecorated apartment with a fridge that has one box of leftovers that would need to be thrown out upon her return and a perfectly made bed that hasn’t been slept on in weeks- even before she left.
There’s fundamentally nothing for her to go home to.
Her lower lip wobbles, but she’s quick to bite down on it before it could go noticed.  Toge’s pretty sure he knows what he saw, though.
Setting his phone on his leg, he reaches his hand out to her.  His touch is gentle, but apprehensive as he sets his hand on her wrist.  It speaks volumes, though.  She can see, and feel, all of the sympathy he’s trying to communicate.  With a short squeeze, he pulled his hand away again, much too soon, but he’d said exactly what he needed to say with that movement alone.
Why can’t you stay?
Her mouth opens, “of course I can’t stay!” sitting right at the tip of her tongue, but this time she’s the one with the Cursed Speech, and she couldn’t possibly say it out loud.  But it’s there, they both know it’s there, they can practically see it.
(y/n) shuts her mouth, wobbly lips forming into a frown upon seeing Toge’s disappointment in her silence.
She’s known him all of two weeks, and his disapproval wrecks her.
“I…” It’s broken, hardly a word, hardly a syllable, but it’s a start.  “What would that say?” 
His brows twitch, then draw together.  Confusion, maybe concern, is written all over him as his eyes wander her features, doing their best to understand her.  She doesn’t make it any easier on him.
With a slight shake of his head, he gives in and asks her what she means.
“If I stayed, just cause- just- just on a whim, for no reason other than-” 
She’s stammering, hardly making sense, and she’s just barely managed to keep her voice down so as not to draw attention from the other passengers scattered around.  But even she has to cut herself off before she could say something that could embarrass herself.  Although, if she were honest with herself, that ship had sailed.
Toge tilts his head, prompting her to finish her thought, but the longer he sits, and stares, and waits, the more (y/n) seems to withdraw.  Her mouth shuts, her brows seem to fall, and he worries that means she’ll be keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself.  He frowns at her, his curious look turning pointed to voice his irritation.
(y/n) figures she could either find another way to explain herself, or she could be grateful that the train was pulling into their station now and she could let the conversation die within this car when she hops out.
The screeching halt followed by the squeak and cry of the doors sliding open is rough on the ears but (y/n) couldn’t have been more relieved as she shoots up from the seat and rushes out of them.
The unsaid words aren’t forgotten, they couldn’t be when they’re tethered to the both of them, following them off the train and through the station.  It doesn’t matter how her stride races past his, the invisible chain still lingers.
She’s not winded from how quick she’s walking- of course not she’s a trained sorcerer- but somehow she’s not taking in air fast enough and she finds her chest rising and falling with short gasps of breath barely relieving her for a second at a time before she’s struggling to gulp down another.
Toge lets her storm off for a few paces.  Whether it’s because he wants her to get it out of her system, or if he needed his own train of thought to catch up with his actions, he couldn’t be sure.  But at some point following after her wasn’t enough.
(y/n) chokes mid breath when she’s halted from speed walking any further.  A hand latches around her wrist, and she has the audacity to look shocked when she’s whirled around.
“Toge!” She shouts, and they both seem to wince at the realization that it’s the first time she’s called him by his first name.
His brows are drawn together, and his eyes shift between hers and the arm he’s holding a few times before he lets her go.  He expected her to huff and take off again.  Maybe she’d speed walk all the way back to Jujutsu Tech, pack her bags, and disappear before the sunrise.
Her hand falls limply back to her side, a visible weight resting on her shoulders as she seems to shrink before him.  It’s odd to see her this way, but he doesn’t know how to communicate it at the moment.
“You barely know me” Her voice isn’t a whisper, but it’s too quiet for Toge’s liking.  He fights the urge to roll his eyes by taking a slow blink.
His hand gestures towards his chest, then taps his head before pointing towards her.  Her lips drop open, but Toge’s quick to repeat the action.  One sharp gesture towards himself, a jerky point at his skull, and then an even more exaggerated point towards her.  His finger stays in her direction until she shuts her mouth again, and he knows she won’t try to argue again.
Did he know everything about her? No.  But right now, it’s what he wanted more than anything.  And if he couldn’t get her to understand that, then he might go crazy.
“I don’t- I don’t understand,” She starts, and Toge groans, his head hanging back as he silently curses the clouds.  “No,” She steps forward, reaching towards his arm only to hesitate once she’s close to grabbing him.  “I meant… I meant I don’t understand why” She clarifies.
There’s nothing but softness behind his eyes as he gazes down at her, but the intensity of the violet still has a hitch forming in her throat.  The way he looks at her, as if she hadn’t just tried to storm out on him, positively makes her knees weak in a way that she can no longer ignore.  
That feeling she’s been pushing away, the stuttering heartbeat, the rush of adrenaline, she couldn’t ignore it now if she wanted to.  Not with it reflecting in Toge’s eyes looking directly back at her.
Her own eyes stretch as round as saucers, realization draining her face of color before coming back in a creeping pink blush.  
“And I- I barely know you,” She stammers over her words, but there’s something different in her tone now.  As if she’s trying to convince herself, rather than him.  Toge nods his head from side to side- he can’t argue, but he doesn’t think she wants him to anyways.  “It would just be- ridiculous to stay, out of nowhere, just- just pack up my life and start all over here- I- I’m not even that familiar with Tokyo,” 
He chuckles, amusement flickering in his eyes as he watches her grasp at straws.  A last ditch effort at explaining away the feeling.
“And I’m a shit teacher… those kids will eat me alive if I can’t get my shit together…” Her voice goes quieter as she trails off, glancing away as her eyes search around the empty street for some sort of solution.  “I can’t just uproot my life for you, you know” 
And then (y/n’s) head snaps forward again, noticing much too late the implication of her words.  Toge’s already raising a brow at her choice of words, a shit eating grin splitting his face.
He points his finger to his chest with an attitude that would make her glare at him if she could will the muscles in her face to do so.  But her lips are working on a mind of their own, twitching into a nervous smile.  She has to shake her head to combat the stupid dopey smile on her own face.  It only seems to further Toge’s amusement.
“Don’t- don’t look at me like that!” She’s shouting again, but it’s useless.  She’s already spoken those previously unsaid words, breaking their tether and letting them free for him to have and hold onto.
And hold onto them, he did.
“Salmon~” He sing-songs the riceball ingredient in a knowing, teasing tone.  He enjoys it far too much when her nervous smile makes an attempt at frowning, only for the corners of her lips to wobble and tilt upwards at him again- as if smiling at him came naturally to them.
A breathless, humorless laugh escapes her.  She pushes her fingers against her temples, as if it could bring some sort of peace to her chaotic mind.  She must be going crazy to actually be caving, right?
“I’ve lost my mind” She mumbles out.
Toge rolls his eyes at her dramatics, unable to help it this time.  He brings his hand out to brush his fingers under her chin, just enough to pull her attention back towards him- and returns color to her cheeks once more- before he reaches for one of her hands and pulls it towards him.  Mindlessly, she takes a half step forward.
It’s quiet for a moment.  And it should be uncomfortable, standing in silence in the middle of a sidewalk.  The sun had set a while ago, leaving only the street lamps to illuminate the surrounding area.  There are a few people still out and about, some rushing home late, others strolling casually, but even as people awkwardly sidestep the two of them, it’s hard to really give it much notice.
Not too unexpected, (y/n) breaks the silence first.
“There must be a rice ball ingredient that would tell me what you’re thinking,” She sighs, her nervous smile growing softer, fonder, more sure of itself.
Toge chuckles, and she can’t help but watch his lips tilt into a smile.  The slight dip of skin where his markings are, where a dimple is almost perfectly centered by ink.  Her gaze is as soft as her smile- just as fond, just as sure of herself.
“You know… you’re nothing like I thought you’d be when I first met you” 
“Hm?” Toge hums, his head tilting just slightly.  He already knows that he’s doomed to have a terrible first impression when people meet him.
(y/n) nods, her eyes haven’t torn away from his lips and the markings that frame them yet.
“I thought you were… I dunno, different,” Her own voice lowers to a near hum, something curious lighting up in her eyes.  “I don’t know if you remember, but that exchange event, when we were still students, you made me run away from a fight,” 
Toge nods, recalling the day just fine.  Finally, her eyes flicker back up to meet his.
“I kind of hated you for that you know,” 
It’s not funny, but he’s laughing quietly.  (y/n) doesn’t understand it.  He just shrugs impishly.
“I don’t like being told to walk away from a fight,” She says, a seriousness in her tone that stood out in the otherwise tranquil moment.  “Actually, I don’t really like being told what to do at all,” She adds, almost as an afterthought.
Her eyes shift a few times back to his mouth, she does nothing to hide her glances.
Inumaki’s expression is knowing, she’d made it abundantly clear that she didn’t take direction from others very well, she didn’t have to tell him.  It took him, like, three tries just to get her to go out for tea.
“But…” She sighs through a long exhale, trying to release her pent up nerves.  “If you told me to stay, I wouldn’t really have another choice…” Her words are slow, careful, just like her eyes as she peeks up at him properly.  “Literally” She tacks on at the end with the tiniest of smiles.
Inumaki raises his eyebrows, unable to help the way his lips tilt into a smirk at the idea.  She’s not wrong, if he really wanted her to stay, he had just the right cursed technique to make that happen.  His eyes shift between hers, if only to appreciate the way her impatience becomes her, no matter how hard she’s trying to mask it.
He opens his mouth, takes a breath, and leans down to her height.  (y/n’s) eyes don’t blink once as she’s rendered breathless from anticipation.
Just as it looks like he’s going to say something, she does blink, and she nearly misses it.  Toge’s quick, leaning in swiftly to brush his lips over her cheek in a chaste kiss.  Her eyes are flying open to stare at him in shock when he pulls away just as fast as he’d leaned in.
She opens her mouth to say something- probably some sort of protest out of shock, but no words come out, and there’s no denying that she’s starting to grin.
Toge’s already smiling ear to ear, seemingly proud of himself.  He doesn’t give her any extra time to think of some witty thing to say, either.  Just holds his arm open to drape around her shoulders so that when they continued their walk, she was right next to him.  Still shell shocked, (y/n) finds herself blindly going along with him.  She doesn’t brush off his arm, or speed away, she keeps her pace purposefully in sync with his.  And after a few strides, she’s even closer to him than before.
Their walk is quiet for a while, each too preoccupied by their heads from that one little kiss.
(y/n) was practically derailing- had he really reduced her to this simple state from a kiss on the cheek? Was she actually making a mental checklist for moving preparations? Would she always feel a burst of electricity inside of her when he was close? 
It would take a business day or two for her to regain her composure and open her eyes to what she really wanted.  But Toge was happy to wait, especially when it meant he’d be the one right there when she was ready to admit how she felt.
Speaking off- Toge couldn’t wipe the grin off his face the whole journey back to Jujutsu Tech.  It wasn’t a long walk, but it felt like an eternity when he had the girl of his dreams under his arm, still blushing from one little kiss.
What an excitement it would be to get to do it again, and have her understand him.
649 notes · View notes
lina-lovebug · 6 months ago
Text
Pretty Boy
Warnings!!: oral - both fem and male receiving, fingering, teasing, praise
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Kurt Wagner was a saint.
He prayed daily for his own sins. He didn’t believe in telling someone he would be praying for them because he had no business in their privacy. To be honest, Kurt didn’t much like to hear the shameless and endless berating against those who did not follow the book of God.
Kurt Wagner took a vow.
He took a vow of celibacy, believing himself to be restrained and would wait until he was wed to give himself to whom he loved. But if he’s being honest with himself, he took such a vow because he never thought he’d get married. 
“Look at me,” he’d say, “who would want to devote their life to someone who looks like me?”
You did.
You called Kurt Wagner “the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen”, and from then on, he knew he was fucked.
You showed up like the sun, shining and unexpectedly beautiful. So stunning that Kurt never thought you’d look twice at him.
Let alone be underneath him.
Kurt wanted to do you justice. He pressed his lips against yours with desperation, like a dehydrated man having his first drink of water. It was sloppy at first, because all he wanted to do was touch you. His hands carved out each curve of your skin, memorizing it in his mind like a beautiful painting.
His tail trailed up your dress, which you wore specifically for him. It was his shade of blue, and allowed him a glimpse at your lace underwear when you bent over. You had been teasing the poor boy all day with subtle touches and even trailing his own hand up your dress, teasing your inner thigh underneath the dinner table.
“Kurt. . .” you pleaded, begging for him to touch you. But you made it quite difficult for him today, seeing as he had a raging hard on at dinner and couldn’t get up.
He’d make you beg for it.
“Hmm?” He hummed teasingly against your skin, tracking hot kisses down your neck.
“Kurt, touch me.”
His tail laced itself around your underwear, tugging it down your leg with such slowness that you knew he was doing it on purpose.
“I need you,” your voice was breathless as he brushed his canines against your pulse point.
“Need what, mein schatz? Use your words,” he encouraged softly, gently biting down on your neck whilst grinding his hard on against your sopping wet core.
“Your finger. Please,” his three fingers weren’t normal or human sized, but thicker.
Thick enough to make you wonder how good it could make you feel.
With your underwear at your ankles, his hand began to venture downwards whilst continuing to mark you with his mouth. He had made several impressions upon your neck already, but craved more. He wanted your entire body to be decorated in hickies because they’d remind him that you chose him.
He hissed quietly as he felt you, “Bei Gott, (Y/N). . .all this for me, my love?” You were soaking wet and he dipped a finger inside. You lulled your head back gently, savoring the feeling of his thick and long finger.
Never in a million years did you think Kurt would be such a tease.
He went achingly slow, savoring your walls around his singular digit as it slid in and out with ease. But he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
Which was where his predicament lied.
He didn’t want to break his vow to God. 
So, he’d compromise.
By making you cum in every other way possible.
But god damn, did he want to press his cock inside of you and watch as you two became one.
“Faster, Kurt,” you gasped, and he did as you wished. Working his slender finger into you, seeking out your g-spot whilst his other finger began to gently circle your clit. Your eyes widened gently, hips bucking upwards involuntarily and earning a deep chuckle from Kurt.
“Look at you,” he whispered in awe, “so pretty.”
You mewled at his words, and Kurt watched your pretty pussy before taking his thumb off of your clit. And replaced it with his tongue.
“Kurt!” You gasped unexpectedly, one hand coming down to tangle in his hair. He smirked against you, his tongue tracing circles around your clit before gently taking it into his mouth. You further clenched around his finger, getting closer to that sweet release. 
“Taste so sweet, liebling,” he practically moaned against your clit, sucking on it gently whilst working his finger further inside of you. 
“Oh fuck,” you cursed, thighs encapsulating his head but he fucking loved it. Your plush thighs around his head, legs quivering with the need for an orgasm made him harder.
If that was even possible.
“So close,” he purred, “cum. Cum on my finger. Let me taste you.”
With a few more pushes and his sweet tongue, you released with a weak cry. He still worked his finger inside of you, drawing out your orgasm and leaving you panting against the bed. He pulled his finger out slowly, licking it in view of your eyes.
That’s when you saw it.
He was straining against his pants, pre-cum soaking the front.
“Kurt,” you whimpered softly, sitting forward. He looked down at you, confused momentarily.
“Are you alri-agh!”
He was extremely sensitive. Once your hand gently wrapped around his cock through his sweats, his eyes shut and his hand wrapped around your wrist as a low moan released.
“You-you don’t have to,” he said. He didn’t care if he had to go jack off later. Well, he did but he knew his vows. 
“But I want to,” you pressed, “you made me feel so good. Let me make you cum, baby.”
He was putty in your hands at that point. That small plea paired with your begging eyes led him to sitting on the bed whilst you got on your knees, and he swore this sight was better than the Heavens itself.
His cock sprang free, gently hitting his stomach and he watched as you looked at it. He felt nervous, wondering if maybe you thought it-
A startled moan left his mouth as you dragged your tongue along his shaft. His hands gripped the sheets below him, his citrine eyes staring down at you. 
You further pressed on, your lips around his tip and you soon realized just how much he needed this. How much he deserved this. You slowly bob your head, taking him in inch at a time. Your warm mouth alone made him feel like he was already close.
“Zu gut,” he whimpered softly. You pulled back momentarily, deciding to tease him.
“What was that? Use your words, baby."
A strangled moan escaped him as you fully took his cock into your mouth. His hands gripped the sheets tighter, refusing to lay a hand on your pretty head. He didn’t want to make you gag or choke on accident, but he was using every ounce of self restraint.
“Just-just like that, (Y/N),” he was embarrassed but you savoured those precious little sounds coming from him. They were whimpers and soft moans, which encouraged you to deep throat him.
His tail flicked wildly on the bed, twitching every so often when you took him deep.
His eyes rolled back gently, but he didn’t want them to. He wanted to look at your pretty face, your eyes as you graciously took care of him.
“Close, baby?” You questioned, pulling away momentarily. He nodded eagerly, and you laced your hand with his. You licked his tip before taking him back into your mouth, and his hips bucked forward. You gagged slightly at the sudden jump, but it only made you want him more because he was enjoying this so much.
He felt it building, and fast. 
“So nah dran. . .” he gasped, his German sounding babbled, “I-I’m close.”
His hand clenched around yours, squeezing as his tail twitched wildly. You felt him cumming quickly, and kept him inside your mouth. He came soon with a weak cry of your name, panting slightly as his cum filled your mouth.
You swallowed, not complaining because his sounds and facial expressions were enough.
“Thank you, mein schatz,” he breathed out, his eyes practically glowing as he wiped your hair from your face.
“I’d do it everyday if it means you keep making pretty sounds,” you responded, earning a purple hue on his cheeks.
But he didn’t oppose.
2K notes · View notes
midnightcrw · 9 months ago
Text
Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing, even though it's only one swear word (this is fluff, by the way)
a/n: Since you all wanted a second part, I finally wrote one, although I really wasn't sure how to continue. I tried my best, and unfortunately, I'm not that happy with it, but hopefully, you all will like it somehow / Part 1
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A headache threatened to make itself known as you looked unimpressed as the King of Hell shook your shoulders, causing you to rock back and forth.
"Did your parents drop you on your head when you were a kid?" Lucifer asked in a desperate tone, not wanting to believe that you and Alastor were a thing (obviously still not knowing that you're married to each other).
"Maybe," you said nonchalantly, ready to push him away if he didn't stop shaking you.
"But-" that's it, you thought as you pushed Lucifer's hands away from your shoulders, surprising him by that before cupping his face in your hand, squeezing his cheeks tightly as he stared at you with wide eyes.
"Listen to me," you began in a stern tone, glaring at him, making him visibly swallow. "You're going to let your daughter show you around, or I'm going to skin you infront of everyone."
With that, you let go of his face as you dusted off your hands, as if you had touched something dirty.
The rest of the residents could only stare with shocked expressions. Fortunately, they hadn't heard what you had said, but from what they had seen, it was definitely intense, as no one would dare do such a thing to the Ruler of Hell.
Though Alastor didn't look shocked, he seemed to be fuming as one of his eyes twitched while the crazed grin never left his face.
"Okay... Anyway, Dad. Look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings!" The excitement was vivid in Charlie's tone as she had her beautiful smile on her face.
She was already trying to move on, wanting to make her point to her dad and you appreciated the fact that you weren't in the spotlight anymore.
Thinking that you were finally getting some peace, you sighed in relief before you felt Alastor's head on top of yours.
"Tell me, darling. How long have you known this little pesky, but surely powerful man?" The 'powerful' was emphasized, as the static seemed to get even more grating with his snippy tone.
Alastor was not the jealous type, you knew that. But he always had his moments, loving to meddle in other people's affairs while hiding his own.
Huffing, you turned around and looked up at him, "While you were gone for seven years, I might have befriended him."
The anger was evident in your voice as you did not explain further. Not only had your husband left you for a few years out of nowhere, but now he was suddenly trying to pry information out of you.
Alastor just laughed at your answer and shook his head while your hands clenched into fists.
And before you could curse him, he suddenly moved much closer, almost pressing his forehead against yours. "Surely for nothing of lustful nature," he whispered sharply, sounding almost disgusted as he uttered the word 'lustful'.
"Maybe I should have," two could play this game, and you certainly weren't going to back down now, since he loved to provoke you so much.
Hearing your reply, the static increased as his antlers grew before he suddenly disappeared in front of your eyes, now standing further away from you.
"Charlie has a very unique vision," your husband began as he approached Charlie, speaking very animatedly, "I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests," he said, placing his hand on the blonde's shoulder as she thanked him.
Of course, seeing that didn't make Lucifer happy at all, since he was already planning to kill Alastor when he got the chance.
And to be honest, at this point, you couldn't care less, almost ready to encourage Lucifer.
"Quite an impressive young lady. We're all very proud of her." The man dressed in red knew what he was doing as he pulled Charlie closer.
Somehow, even though he was angry, the short man managed to steer the conversation to another topic, such as getting introduced to the rest of the people in the hotel.
With a smile on her face, Charlie pulled Vaggie near her, "This is Vaggie. She's my girlfriend."
You had probably never seen Lucifer so relieved as a grin made its way across his face, "Oh my golly, you like girls?"
You truly wanted to bang your head against something, knowing that he was going to embarrass himself.
"Yes, so do I. We have so much in common. You put her there, Maggie," he said as he pulled Vaggie into a bone crushing hug, making her a bit uncomfortable with his enthusiasm.
"He didn't even get the name right..." you muttered, rubbing your temple in frustration.
And of course, it wouldn't be Alastor if he didn't continue to annoy you further, "Everything all right, my sweet?"
"Would be much better without you here," you said, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to deal with him right now.
"Is that so?" Alastor whispered in your ear with a toothy grin on his face, looking pleased with himself as you flinched at the sudden closeness.
All you could do was exhale sharply as you stepped away from him, even though he teleported right back into your personal space.
Ignoring him, you just watched the rest of the residents.
"Hello, I clean." Niffty giggled to herself as she grabbed hold of Lucifer's coat, causing him to stare at her with an uncertain expression on his face.
"Don't you dare throw the chandelier to the floor," you whispered, already one step ahead of him.
"Oh, and how well you know me," Alastor said in a delighted voice, and now you wished you hadn't told him that, because it seemed that another plan was brewing in that big head of his.
Without warning, your husband suddenly put an arm around your waist as he walked you closer to the rest of the people.
"You must be proud of Charlie since she has already found people who want to redeem themselves," the grin didn't leave his face as usual as the attention was once again back on you and Alastor.
Lucifer's eye twitched as he looked at you, not liking the fact that the deer was holding his friend so close.
"Sure I am," the short man said as he pulled you out of the radio demon's grip, causing the static to be heard.
"Doesn't seem like it," Alastor said quickly, jumping to the next topic before Lucifer could interject in annoyance, "I even remember the exact moment Charlie needed help, and of course, being the perfect gentleman, I couldn't help but lend a hand." He chuckled to himself as he suddenly grabbed your hand, wanting to pull you to him, but Lucifer didn't let go of your hand, but nonetheless he continued to talk anyway.
"You could almost call me dad," Alastor said with a sinister grin as both men continued to pull on your hand.
"Surely no one would call you that," the King of Hell said with contempt in his voice as he glared at your husband and suddenly turned his eyes to you, "I promise you, you can do better than this. Have you seen his haircut?"
"I see it every day," you muttered.
Charlie didn't seem to be in a better mood than you, as she let herself fall onto the sofa while Vaggie patted her head. And somehow Angel Dust was eating popcorn, even holding the popcorn bag in front of the Princess of Hell as she started to eat some of it while they all watched the three of you.
"In fact, she sees it every day and every night," Alastor added with a crazed look in his eyes as he started to get annoyed.
The look on Lucifer's face was hilarious. One would really like to see his reaction if he knew that Alastor wasn't interested in anything sexual, but just loved to anger people, especially those who didn't pay attention to him.
"Nobody wants to see that atrocity!"
"Well, she loves it!"
"She doesn't!"
And before things could get worse, Husk suddenly said, "Mimzy is here."
With that, your eyes widened as you looked towards the entrance while the men stopped pulling on your hands.
Oh and how you hated her.
"Surely you all missed me!" The voice of the beautiful little woman was heard, clearly directed at your husband.
Fuck no, you thought.
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Been thinking about why the argument that OFMD is inherently a bad show because it's based on historical slaveowners so often feels disingenuous to me as a person of color.
HUGE disclaimer up front: if you don't wanna fuck with the show because of that premise right out the gate, that's 100% valid and I completely get that. I'm not talking about that. What I'm specifically talking about is White fandom people in particular who argue that OFMD must be "problematic" because of this, especially when they say this as some kind of virtue-signalling trying to win points in fandom wars, stuff like that.
My big thing is that the resemblance the characters in OFMD have to their real-world namesakes begins and ends with having the same name. The show feels more to me like it's playing with the vague myths around these names, not the people themselves. Can you make an argument that they should have come up with original characters instead? Sure, but let's be honest, even people who study the irl counterparts have very little knowledge of their actual lives, and the average person has all but none. To add to that, this show has absolutely zero interest in historical accuracy; the moment they cast a Jewish-Polynesian man as Blackbeard that became obvious. No one is saying the real-life Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet were good people, least of all the show itself; the point is that OFMD's versions are basically original characters already.
It always feels like an incredibly disingenuous claim to parallel the show to Hamilton, because Hamilton both did care about historical accuracy and also brought up the slave trade. Hamilton is uncomfortable for so many poc because it writes poc into the story of otherwise very faithfully portrayed racists, colonizers, and slaveowners and just handwaves the racism. In OFMD, racism exists, but the stance is always explicitly anti-racist and anti-colonialist in a way that is just so fun to see (whom among us has not wished to skin a racist with a snail fork?).
The other thing that sticks for me is...there's an appropriate amount of slavery I want to see in my romcoms, and that amount is none. I am so sick of historical fiction where Black characters are only there for trauma porn about the horrors of the slave trade. You can make a legitimate argument that OFMD is handwavey about the slave trade, but I'd argue that including discussion of the slave trade is something that should be done with such incredible care that it would leave us with a show that can't really be a comedy at all anymore. OFMD's characters of color are allowed to be nuanced, complex characters with their own emotions, and it's incredibly refreshing to see, and I'd much rather have that than yet another historical fiction show where the only characters of color are only there to make White audiences feel virtuous about how sad they feel for them.
In conclusion, I guess: every yt person who makes this argument to win points in a fandom war owes me and every other fan of color a million dollars
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