#anything's better that knowing that even your existence is a planned thing to just get a quirk that in the end just dissapeared

[swordmaid]

am getting a lot of character inspo for shri’iia from amy gone girl. I don’t think she’s as smart nor calculated but she is similar to some degree in that she’s hyper aware of the current persona she’s presenting and how she’s appealing to the people. the masks and the mjndgames, that’s basically how shri’iia operated while she was still serving under her matriarch in menzoberranzan. she needed to play the roles the matriarch required of her and it was only when she was with her matriarch that she can be ‘Real Shri’iia’, and that’s how I imagined shri’iia to be esp in act 1 when she is so new and scared in the surface. she needed to work out who these people are (her companions) and what they liked, so her first persona - her blank one - the charming helpful paladin who got tadpoled and wants to go back home just like the rest of them (which was half true). she didn’t really argue and she generally agreed to what the group wanted. she was helpful and co-operative, ask her about her past and she will tell you something bland and generic- interesting enough to be ooh-ing about but not too interesting that they’ll delve deeper into it. then, when she got to know them a little more, she started crafting little personas adjacent to her first one ; she’s the girl who’s curious about magic but never had the chance to learn with gale, she’s a cool girl who likes mischief as debauchery with astarion, she’s the one who likes to take risks and live in the moment with karlach, the knight in silver armor who’s willing to help the tieflings with wyll, a disciplined fighter with lae’zel, someone who understands the depths of devotion with shadowheart - but none are really her, not really. ofc her own personality might slip in here and there but for the most part she’s appealing to them and what they’d like her to be but none of it is really genuine. shri’iia just needs to be on their good side to minimise the chances of them turning on her, and if they let her guard down it’ll be easier for her to get rid of them should the need arise. taking up all these different masks, collecting all these intel abt them to be used for later, slithering and making a place in their minds - it’s really how she operated back in menzoberranzan. I think the only one who catches on to her game is astarion but that’s bc he’s doing the same thing too, so it’s very game recognises game lmfao

it’s only when she breaks her oath and goes through her existential crisis that all of her masks drop and her real self comes out. she was never that kind of person lmfao ^, she’s greedy, selfish, paranoid and rather obsessive. she doesn’t care about a lot of things that doesn’t concern her, she has a cruel streak that she hasn’t shown before, and she hates doing anything that won’t really benefit her. but she’s fiercely loyal to anyone she likes, like a dog. and severely she craves validation and approval - also like a dog.

[buttercupshands]

Thinking about what happened in the summer

Kids are... Really different when it comes to spending three weeks without their parents

Some start crying near the end of first day

Some start crying after couple of days

And some don't show anything while feeling the same

And being... I think English has a good word for that, let's go with a teacher but mix it with caretaker a little bit

I think seeing a kid cry at the end of that first day finally short circuited my brain, teens are way harder to understand that pre-teens who are literally still kids

They come around after a week, settle down and find new friends and your job stays the same mostly to be the one controlling their behavior

And then you'd have a kid crying again, because they miss home and the only thing you can really do is comfort them that they're not stuck here forever and that time flows so fast they won't notice it

And maybe they didn't. Time really did flew and they were leaving

Parents visited kids sometimes, of course, and it was so scary at first but they were mostly friendly and nice

Maybe because of that group chat that let them see that their kids are fine and are having fun

In the end for kids it was painful at first, but fun in the end. I got hugged more times than I could count when they were all leaving

And then poof

Back to your own life you go, like nothing happened

[hoshifighting]

WARNINGS: idol!reader getting injured (arm), accident mention, smut, fingering, oral (f. &m. rec), ovulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, handjob, attentive sex? (due to reader's injury), dirty talk.

staff!seungcheol who’s got that severe look, eyes attached to every inch of you like he’s memorizing it. he’s standing close, flashlight in hand, checking every damn speck of glitter on your face like he’s planning on personally suing each one that doesn’t sparkle just right. like you're some kind of precious artifact he needs to make sure is flawless. there’s this faint crease between his brows as he leans in, like he’s got a checklist of your entire existence in his mind, murmuring “lemme see, hold still,” like you’re the one shifting around with his hands practically cupping your face. the makeup artist’s just nervously holding her breath in the background.

doesn’t even flinch when he sees the tiny smudge, just calmly points it out while you try not to roll your eyes. “needs fixing,” he says, stepping back only when he’s satisfied, waving the makeup artist over with a quick hand gesture.

“alright, open up,” then there’s staff!seungcheol who’s already one step ahead, holding up that tiny spray bottle of propolis like it’s the holy grail of vocal cords. he gives you a knowing look as you open your mouth for him to spray it down your throat. “don’t choke on it this time,” he says, like you didn’t just cough last night but committed a fucking crime. the spray hits your throat, sharp and herbal, and you pull a disgusted face.

“that’s awful, seungcheol,” you croak, trying to rub it off your tongue.

“and it works,” he fires back, deadpan, already watching you like you’re gonna start talking back too loud. but there’s this smirk tugging at the edge of his lips, like he’s clocking the way you’re fussing.

staff!seungcheol who’s already got a scrunchie on his wrist just for you, flicking it like a badge of honor when the fashion team rushes in, hands full of fabric and pins. “back up,” he tells them, waving them off like some sort of bodyguard-turned-stylist. he steps in, gathering your hair up with this weirdly gentle touch, pulling it back like he’s done this a million times. and he has. you’re used to the low murmur of his voice, saying stuff like “look down,” or “tilt your head,” pulling your hair back as you rip off one outfit, practically wrestling yourself into another.

and yeah, he's seen it all, seen you stripped down to a bunch of mismatched pieces of clothes, practically naked with pins and sequins scattered around. he’s the only one who gets to stay in the room when it’s time to swap outfits, hands moving steady over zippers and hooks without batting an eye. he’s too professional for that.

but sometimes you’ll catch the way his eyes flash, quick as anything, over your bare shoulder, the curve of your waist, or the bend of yourback. lingering just a second too long before he’s tugging fabric back over you. “hold your arms up,” he says, voice so steady it’s almost annoying, but there’s this barely-there flush on his face, one he probably thinks you don’t notice. only once you're decent does he call in the fashion team again, his hand lingering on your shoulder just a second longer, like some silent encouragement.

“think i’ll survive tonight, boss?” you shoot over your shoulder as he tightens up a corset, his fingers brushing your back.

“if you can keep that mouth of yours shut for two minutes, maybe,” he mutters, yanking the laces just a little too tight.

staff!seungcheol who seems to have every little detail about you learned by heart, right down to the shade of foundation that works best under stage lights and the exact temperature of water you like before singing. he’s like a walking encyclopedia on “you,” this intense manager who somehow knows you better than you know yourself some days. it’s kinda crazy when you think about it—how much attention he puts into the smallest things, like checking your posture right before you step onto the stage, brushing an imaginary dust speck off your shoulder, or even noticing when you’re tired just from a tiny slump in your stance. there’s this wild, almost comforting feeling in knowing someone’s watching that close, picking up on what you need before you even have to say it.

staff!seungcheol who doesn’t just care about the professional side of things but pays attention to you as a whole person. you’ll be pacing before a show, a mess of nerves, and he’ll pull you aside, hands firm on your shoulders, telling you to breathe, to ground yourself. “hey, it’s just one show out of many,” he’ll say, like he’s reminding you that this isn’t the end of the world. sometimes, he’ll even pull out a joke, something random to get you out of your head, his voice warm, more calming than he probably even realizes.

staff!seungcheol who’s a human wall when it comes to fans or any kind of chaos. he’s got this built-in radar for spotting trouble in a crowd, and the way he just moves through people, ushering you along like he’s a bodyguard instead of just your manager—it’s unreal. you know the crew’s got security, but it’s always him who stands closest, always him who angles himself slightly in front of you, making sure nothing gets in the way. he’s not overbearing, either; it’s this subtle, constant thing, like he’s built to be in tune with you and the space around you.

and it’s not just the big stuff. like, he’s a fiend about the little things, too. if he sees you adjusting your outfit or tugging at your sleeves, he’s immediately there, straightening the hem or re-pinning a loose detail. he’s the kind of guy who’ll silently hand you a tissue if he sees a tiny smudge of lipstick on your teeth, or he’ll have that emergency stain remover in his pocket just in case you spill something on your outfit last-minute.

staff!seungcheol who somehow makes you feel both overprotected and ridiculously independent. he’s right there if you mess up, catching you before you can fall—literally and metaphorically. he’ll laugh about it after the fact, maybe make some quip about how you owe him for always “saving your ass,” but in the moment, he’s solid as hell, totally serious. it’s like he lives for making sure everything in your world runs smoothly, yet he’s always subtly pushing you to handle things yourself, too.

then, there’s the crazy amount of trust he has in you, even though he’s like the over-prepared captain of the team. like, he’ll go through the checklist with everyone—makeup, wardrobe, lighting, sound—and he’s triple-checked it all, down to the damn microphone battery. but when it comes time for you to perform, he just gives you this look that says he knows you’re gonna kill it, and in that weir silence, it’s like he’s handing everything over, telling you without words, “i’ve got the logistics; you just be you.”

staff!seungcheol who, when you’re touring his hometown, suddenly seems way more focused on making sure you’re comfy than anything else—an entire list prepared, of all the places he wants to show you. but first, there’s the “family dinner” situation. he’s practically droning with nerves as he introduces you to his family, calling you his boss, and you’re just gritting your teeth, whispering to him with a grin, “seungcheol, quit it—i told you, just my name.” he just smirks, playing it off, even if it’s clear he’s a little embarrassed, especially when his mom starts calling him out on every little thing he used to do as a kid.

staff!seungcheol who, thanks to your fans, has become practically famous on his own. every time you two walk through an airport, you can hear them calling his name, practically chanting it at this point, pointing out “the hot manager.” and there he is, looking away, rubbing his neck or practically burying his face into your shoulder

he’ll tug at your sleeve like a kid hiding behind their mom, he gets especially flustered when you turn it on him, all smug, saying, “y’know, i must be the luckiest one here, getting to have a handsome manager like you walking me around.” he rolls his eyes, a rare laugh slipping out as he mutters something sarcastic, trying so hard to brush it off, but you know he secretly loves it, the tips of his ears going pink.

and it’s not just for show. once you’re on your off time after a show, seungcheol’s literally all over the place, making sure you don’t lift a finger. he’s there, picking up menus, already knowing what you’ll want and what to skip (yes olives or goodbye olives). he’s at the counter, practically fighting to swipe your card before you can even think about it. it’s like he’s taken the whole “manager” title to heart, as if your well-being is his full-time mission.

he’s got this sixth sense for how you’re feeling too. the second you’re showing signs of exhaustion, he’s hunting for a place to sit, guiding you to a cozy bench or a shady spot under a tree like he’s found the red dot on a map. he even maps out little stops he thinks you’d like, you can’t even remember the last time you needed to decide on where to go.

staff!seungcheol who’ll walk around the city with you, way more relaxed now that he’s on familiar ground, all while pointing out tiny things he remembers from his own life. he’ll say, “used to skip class and hang out here,” or, “this place has the best coffee.” and it’s casual, but you can see how he’s sharing a bit of himself with you, almost like letting you in on these little secrets.

he’s the same guy who’ll quietly, without a word, take off his jacket and drape it over your shoulders when the night air gets too cold, muttering something like, “can’t have you freezing out here,” while you just laugh because he’s the one walking around in a t-shirt in the middle of the night now.

staff!seungcheol who watched you perform on the backstage through the reflector and in the second he sees you stumble, heart pounding harder than it should as his instincts kick in before he even thinks—he’s moving, pushing past a cluster of crew members and ignoring the calls of the other staff, all his attention zeroed in on you. the moment he reaches you, he’s crouching down, there’s this tremor in his voice as he says, “hey, stay still, don’t try to move,” reaching to gently check your injury while his jaw is set tight, his hand firm yet shaking ever so slightly.

he’s not even sure if it’s because he’s furious at the award organization for being careless or just terrified that he saw you go down at all. there’s this split second where he holds you, practically hovering over you protectively, and when you hiss in pain, his hand moves gently, brushing hair out of your face. “i’m so sorry, it’s gonna be okay,” he mutters, his voice way softer than he means, almost sounding choked.

and that’s when it really hits him—this worry clawing its way up his chest, tearing through the professional armor he’s kept on so tightly. all the stuff he’s tried to ignore, to brush off as “just his job,” it’s all boiling over now, searing him. because the sight of you hurt, struggling to get back on your feet, it’s affecting him way, way more than it should. he’s clenching his jaw so hard he thinks it might break, like he’s trying to hold back this tight feeling in his throat, but it’s too late. all he can think is this can’t happen again, this can’t happen to you.

“look at me, alright?” he says, his voice steadier now but barely. he’s doing everything to stay calm, but his hand is still on your shoulder, squeezing just a bit tighter than usual. “i’ve got you. we’re gonna get you checked out, and you’re gonna be okay.” it’s like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he is you. when you try to shrug him off, muttering that you’re fine, he doesn’t even flinch—just picks you up like he’s done it a thousand times before, ignoring any protests, keeping you close to his chest as if letting you go is an option he just can’t entertain.

walking off stage, you’re half-leaning against him, but he can’t look at you without this flood of guilt hitting him. why wasn’t i there faster? he keeps thinking, like he could’ve somehow prevented this whole thing if he’d just been a second sooner, a second more vigilant. he knows it’s irrational, but the thought eats at him. with every step, the weight of what he’s feeling presses harder and harder, making him realize, damn, this isn’t just the job anymore, hasn’t been for a long time.

and now, backstage, with you in his arms, his mind’s racing through a million scenarios of what could’ve happened if the injury had been worse, if he hadn’t been there. it’s almost infuriating, how much he cares, and for a split second, he feels like he can’t breathe, like every single barrier he’s tried to put up to keep things professional has just crumbled into dust.

when the medical team comes over, he still can’t bring himself to fully let you go. he steps back just a bit, giving them space, but his hand’s still resting on your shoulder, thumb unconsciously tracing soft, slow circles like he’s grounding himself in knowing you’re still right there. he catches your eye, the way you give him that reassuring smile despite the pain, and he feels this indescribable surge of… something he’s afraid to name, afraid to admit even to himself.

you’re talking to the medics, brushing it off, laughing even, and he’s half-listening, locked in his own head. he’s known all along he’s cared about you, sure, but seeing you hurt, actually holding you like this, it’s made him realize it’s different now. this is something deeper, something he can’t hide behind a professional mask or dismiss as just his responsibility. you’re not just his artist-boss not just the person he’s assigned to take care of. you’re everything—everything he wants to protect, to keep safe, to make sure stays as perfect and unbreakable as he sees you.

staff!seungcheol, who practically moves in with you after the injury, showing up almost daily with bags of groceries, adjusting the pillows on the couch just right, and doing anything he can to make your life easier while you’re stuck on this forced hiatus. he’s meticulous as always, organizing everything, but he still lets you do the simple things on your own when possible. he knows how much you hate feeling dependent on anyone, even him, so he keeps it balanced. still, every now and then, he steps in—like now, as you awkwardly try to pull on your pajamas with your one good arm, refusing to ask for help but struggling all the same.

“you’re gonna tear the sleeve,” he murmurs, chuckling softly as he crosses the room, gentle hands helping guide your arm through the pajama top like it’s nothing. “and before you say anything, you don’t need to feel embarrassed, alright?”

“yeah, easy for you to say,” you grumble, feeling your cheeks heat up as he adjusts the fabric against your shoulder, the familiarity somehow making it worse. he’s done this a million times on tour, yet here, in the privacy of your own home, with your messy pajamas instead of a flashy stage outfit, it feels… like a shame. hard to ignore.

he just shrugs, glancing at you with a small, reassuring smile. “you’ve got nothing to prove to me. trust me, i’ve seen you through worse—like that one time in paris when you twisted your ankle and tried to walk it off anyway?”

“ugh, don’t remind me.” you roll your eyes, but the memory actually makes you laugh a little. “that was your fault for letting me go out in those ridiculous heels.”

“you’re the one who insisted they looked good,” he teases, smoothing down the collar of your pajama top as if that final adjustment could make this whole thing feel less awkward.

it’s only a few minutes later, as you’re both sitting at the dining table, the food he’s prepped steaming and smelling way too good, that he seems to pick up on the shift in your mood. you’re quiet, picking at your food, trying to ignore the ache in your back and the faint, familiar discomfort building up, reminding you it’s that time of the month—again.

“you feelin’ alright?” he asks, studying you with that same, observant gaze. he reaches over, pressing a hand to your forehead to check for a fever, but you instinctively pull back.

“i’m fine,” you reply a little too quickly, shrugging him off as you try to mask the irritation in your voice. but you know he’s already suspicious. he’s been keeping track of your recovery, and since your doctor had him install that app to sync with your cycle and show schedule, he’s way too aware of these things.

you glance at the notification before he turns the screen down. you groan, “god, i hate that you’re this observant.”

he chuckles softly, “comes with the job..”

“yeah, well… it’s just—look, it’s… i’m on my second ovulation since this stupid injury,” you admit, cheeks heating up as you glance away. “and i can’t… y’know. can’t do anything about it. feels like i’m losing my mind.”

he’s silent for a moment, probably a bit stunned, and you peek up, expecting him to laugh or maybe even crack some joke, but his face is serious. finally, he clears his throat, and his voice is so quiet you barely catch it.

“y/n, you—you could’ve told me. if this is, like, getting to you, there are… other ways.”

your heart races, both from his words and from the way he’s looking at you, and you try to shrug it off with a half-laugh, but your voice wavers. “yeah, and what? you planning on giving me a hand?”

he doesn’t laugh. “if that’s what you need.”

“cheol… whatthefuck?”

“don’t want you suffering alone. if you need me, just say it,” he murmurs.

and in that moment, with him sitting across from you, earnest and willing, you realize maybe you’ve been holding back more than just your pain.

staff!seungcheol watches you carefully, still as a statue except for his hands, which are gripping the underside of the table so hard you swear you can see his knuckles turning colorless. he’s waiting, practically holding his breath, watching every small shift in your expression, and you know he’s waiting for any sign you’re second-guessing. but all you can think about is how much you want him. your eyes slip shut, and you let out a shaky breath, the idea of him, his hands, his mouth on you making you dizzy. when you open your eyes, you meet his, still fixed on you.

you don’t even realize you’ve let out a soft moan until his lips twitch into a faint smile, and he pushes back from the table, coming around it with measured steps. “you sure about this?” he asks, he’s close enough now that you can see every detail of his face—the stray strands of his hair falling across his forehead, the slight flush on his cheeks, the sharp cut of his jawline.

“cheol, please?” you murmur, because god, you need him to close this space, need him to touch you.

he doesn’t need to be told twice. he scoops you up, carefully laying you back on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs, thumbs rubbing slow circles as he moves higher, taking his time. he’s studying every reaction, every small sigh or shift, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts. he glances up one more time, giving you a moment to stop him, but when you nod, his fingers hook under the fabric, peeling it down slowly.

“fuck, you’re drenched,” he murmurs, as his fingers dip between your thighs, gathering the wetness that’s practically dripping, and spreading on your clit. he raises an eyebrow, glancing at you with a smirk. “been waiting for this?”

you squirm under his touch, cheeks flushing as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, his stubble grazing your skin as he trails his mouth higher, breath warm as he hovers above the wet cunt, your pussy clenches, making a wet sound, his eyes flicking up to meet yours again.

“stay still for me,” he whispers, before his mouth finally, finally connects, and the first touch has you gasping, fingers fisting the sheets. his tongue is slow, and you can feel his tongue sucking your juices inside his mouth. mortifying, delicious. you can’t help but arch your hips toward him, wanting more, but his hands press down on your thighs, holding you in place.

he pulls back just enough to murmur, “turned on?” and his fingers slide in, curling faultlessly as he starts moving, his mouth resuming its work on your swollen clit in a way that makes you disoriented. he doesn’t let up, alternating between teasing you and giving you exactly what you need, fingers curling tight, making the wet sounds louder, pressing against that spot that has you writhing.

“god, look at you,” he whispers, voice rough in your ear as he presses his fingers deeper, his breath hot on your skin. “you’re soaked, y/n. dripping all over my fingers… you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”

your hips move instinctively, grinding down on his hand, but the way you’re shifting causes a sharp pain to shoot through your arm, making you gasp.

“hold on, wait,” he says immediately, pulling his fingers out, his other hand already moving to your side, gently easing you back down. his eyes scan you for any sign of discomfort, and then he places his hand firmly on your chest, palm pressing between your breasts as he pins you to the bed, keeping you steady. “just like this, okay?” he murmurs, fingers slipping back inside you, his thumb circling your clit. “you can still move down here, but let me do all the work.”

your breath catches as he holds you down, the feeling of his strong hand keeping you in place making you stumble breaths. you’re completely at his mercy, pinned under his hand, unable to do anything but grind against his fingers, and with every thrust, every word he murmurs, you’re spiraling further, faster.

“you’re so perfect like this,” he whispers against your skin, moving his fingers deeper, rougher. “such a mess, taking me so good… you’re gonna cumm for me? yeah? that’s it, just like that…”

your orgasm hits hard, your body clenching around his fingers, thighs trembling, and his hand on your chest keeps you from arching too much, grounding you as your entire body pulses he holds you steady, whispering soft, filthy praises into your ear as you come down, his fingers finally slipping out but his hand staying over your heart, steady and reassuring as your breathing slows.

you look up at him, the aftershocks still tingling, and he gives you a soft, satisfied smile, brushing his thumb gently over your collarbone. “now that’s my good girl.”

seungcheol hovers over you, his face an inch from yours, eyes locked on you like you’re the only thing in the room worth seeing. your breaths are shallow, still struggling to steady, and without another thought, you lift your neck and press your lips to his. he melts into it, kissing you deeper, tongue brushing over yours in a way that makes your skin tingle. he’s careful with his hands, keeping his wet fingers from your hair but awkwardly gripping the pillow, while the other hand slides down, lightly brushing over your chest.

“fuck… cheol,” you mumble into his mouth, feeling almost embarrassed by the way your body’s reacting. the word just slips out, and then it’s followed by, “want your cock so bad. just… just give it to me, please.”

he pulls back, and you’ve never seen that look before—his lips parted, brows raised, the most i-want-pussy-so-fucking-bad face you ever saw. he shakes his head softly, voice a little raspy, “you know i’d ruin you if i could right now,” he says, breath catching. “but it’ll hurt… don’t wanna push it too much.”

“please, cheollie,” you murmur, giving him a sly, knowing look. “you’re gonna be careful with me, right? just… give me a little. i need you so bad, been thinking about it all day…” your voice trails off, and you feel his hand grip a little tighter, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your chest through the thin fabric of your pajamas.

he takes a shaky breath, a low groan slipping out, and suddenly, he’s sliding off the bed, hands trembling just enough for you to notice as he pulls his shirt over his head. his skin is warm, tan, muscles rippling as he unbuttons his jeans, and you can barely breathe as he pushes them down along with his underwear, freeing himself. his cock is thick, flushed a deep pink at the tip, and the way he’s stroking himself, like he’s savoring every second, has you practically drooling.

unable to resist, you tilt your head up, parting your lips, tongue out as you bat your lashes at him, silently begging. he’s already at the edge of the bed, and he lowers himself, the weight of his cock pressing against your lips, and you can’t help the moan that escapes. it’s warm, heavy, and you lean forward just enough, taking him between your lips, letting your tongue glide along the underside.

he strokes a hand over your cheek, thumb grazing just beneath your eye, and his face looks wrecked, like he’s fighting every instinct to just take control. but he holds back, lets you set the pace, lets you tease with your mouth, your tongue swirling over his tip, tasting every inch of him.

you take his whole length in your mouth, sucking him slow, then pulling back to focus on the tip like you’re savoring the best thing you’ve ever tasted. you hear his breath catch, and when his knees falter, his hand grips your shoulder, the sound of his hissed “stop… stop,” barely reaching you over the rush of your own heartbeat. you pull back, licking your lips, watching his eyes go dark as he catches sight of his precum shining on your mouth.

he climbs back onto the bed, sliding between your legs, and you shiver as his rough hands smooth over your thighs, steadying himself, each touch leaving a trail of heat on your skin. his tip brushes your clit, slick and throbbing, and his head falls back, eyes squeezed shut like he’s holding himself back, muttering to himself as if he’s praying to keep control, like he knows he’s on the edge of just losing it. “what a fucking idea, seungcheol.” you can practically hear him thinking, fighting to keep the restraint that’s barely holding on by a thread.

but you want him to break just a little—so you reach down, your smaller hand wrapping around him, tugging him gently, aiming him just right. his eyes snap open, catching you in the act, and he’s on you in a second, his large hand covering yours, guiding himself to press against you, so close but not quite there yet. his forearm braces beside your head as his face hovers above you, dark hair brushing your forehead, and you feel the heat of his chest pressed to yours, your nipples tight against him.

a giggle escapes frpm you, bubbling up from the tension, aroused and just a little wicked, and his gaze sharpens. he bites his bottom lip, a smirk playing on his face, and asks, “think it’s funny to watch me suffer, huh?”

“me?” you bat your eyelashes at him, feigning innocence. “wouldn’t dream of it… i’m just thinkin’ how it’s almost cute how fucked you are already. big, strong seungcheol, lookin’ like he’s about to cry before he’s even all the way in…”

he laughs, pushing just an inch further inside, making you moan, eyebrows scrunching as the heat between you builds. “gonna make you take back every word, babe,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of threat and promise, breath warm against your cheek.

you can’t help yourself, smirking up at him. “well, you better prove it then, baby. or i’m gonna have to tell everyone you barely held up through a single round.”

“oh, you think that’s how this is gonna go?”

and with that, he presses forward, sinking in deeper, your mouth dropping open as he fills you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him.

your walls tighten around him, barely able to take him in, but your body’s greedy, slick and warm, desperate to pull him in even further. your calves wrap around his ass, urging him, and in one move, you tug him, forcing him deeper, filling you completely. you cry out, head rolling back, but seungcheol groans, nearly collapsing onto you, his hand catching himself before he lands too hard.

“what the hell are you doin’,” he pants, shaking his head, his voice all gruff as he looks down at you. “you’re crazy, you know that? what if i’d fallen on your arm?”

you smirk, unashamed, reaching up to tug him down closer. “couldn’t help it… i needed all of you,” you murmur, voice dripping with need, your walls pulsing around him. “need you so deep you’ll still be there tomorrow.”

he laughs, but it melts into a growl as he starts to move. “you know i can’t take it too fast with you today.” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead. “but damn, you’re tight.”

your hips tilt up, meeting him, matching the slow grind, and you look up at him, gaze heavy-lidded. “bet you’ve been thinking about this,” you purr, your fingers trailing down his chest. “probably losing it in that dressing room, thinking how wet i’d get for you.”

“fuck, don’t start with me,” he grits out, his hips faltering for just a second as you clench around him, and you can feel him twitch inside, pulsing as your words hit home. his hand finds its way to your neck, not squeezing but just holding, grounding himself as he slowly fills you over and over. “goddamn, y/n..”

“oh, i know,” you say, breath catching as he leans down, lips brushing yours, barely ghosting as his hips keep that steady, perfect rhythm. “i know exactly how you look at me, seungcheol. like you wanna destroy me.”

his breath hitches, and his hand flexes on your neck as he groans, forehead pressing against yours. “careful what you ask for.” he warns, voice low, but you pout up at him, lips pressing into the slightest pout, all needy.

“i don’t think you’re really up for it, anyway. maybe i need someone who can give it to me for real,” you murmur, words practically melting into his ear, and he stops mid-thrust, his eyes flashing as he studies your face.

“you’re pushin’ it,” he says, voice rough as he resumes moving, but you keep the playful look, barely biting back a smile as he grits his teeth. “if you didn’t have that arm to worry about, i’d have you crying right now, you know that?”

“oh, i know,” you coo back, dragging your nails down his back, just enough to make him hiss. “but what about now? all you can do is hold back ‘cause you’re too scared of hurting me. maybe it’s you who can’t handle it, huh?”

the muscles in his jaw tighten as he leans in close, hips still rolling into you with a slow, maddening rhythm that makes you squirm beneath him. “trust me, i could handle you just fine,” he murmurs against your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “but you’re so damn tight right now, i’d probably split you open if i went harder.”

“maybe i want that,” you whisper, your voice breathless as you shift your hips, taking him even deeper, feeling every inch stretch you with each slow grind of his hips. “maybe i want you to fuck me so good i forget my own damn name.”

seungcheol’s resolve nearly snaps. he groans, his hands gripping your waist to steady you, his thumb brushing along your ribs, and he lets out a shuddering breath, muttering under his breath. “god, ovulations are somethin’ else,” he says, voice cracking, clearly fighting for control. “you’re wet wet—like i might drown in you, damn.”

he lets out a low chuckle, his eyes clouded, almost in awe. “look at this mess,” he murmurs, pulling out just slightly to feel how soaked his length is before sliding back in, feeling your warmth close around him, every muscle clenching down on him, pulling him deeper, your eyes rolling back. “you really think you can handle it if i just… give you what you’re beggin’ for?”

you arch up against him, that challenging spark back in your eyes. “why don’t you just try me?”

he lets out a slow exhale, hand moving from your waist to cradle your face as he picks up the pace, still careful but with a bit more force this time, making you gasp. you whimper, nodding at him to continue, the tension building with each deep stroke, and you can see the satisfaction flash in his eyes as he keeps his rhythm steady, watching the way you start to fall apart beneath him.

he pulls out slowly, just enough to let you feel every ridge, every vein along his length, before pushing back in until his tip is pressed snug against your cervix, making you gasp. the pressure alone makes your head spin, and you can feel his balls, soaked and heavy, pressing against you with each movement, sticky with how drenched you are.

“you still think i’m not giving it to you right?” he taunts, his voice dipping low as he watches your face, one brow lifting just slightly, teasing. “you wanted it rough, didn’t you?” he grins, dragging a hand up your thigh, holding you open for him. “tell me, where’s that attitude now?”

“it’s—it’s…” you trail off, breath hitching as he thrusts again, slower, letting his hips roll so he’s as deep as possible, and you can’t help the shaky whimper that slips out.

“what was that? i couldn’t quite hear you,” he murmurs, voice smug as he leans down, kissing your jaw, your neck, every inch of you that he can reach while still keeping that maddeningly slow pace. “you were talkin’ so big before, and now look at you.”

“i… i can take it,” you stammer, clutching at his shoulders, though the words barely come out with how your voice keeps faltering, his rhythm somehow leaving you more breathless with each thrust.

he chuckles, brushing his thumb across your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. “that so? ‘cause you’re already all teary,” he points out, a hint of affection in his tone, even as he keeps that teasing look in his eyes. “am i really that deep, baby?”

“y-yeah,” you manage to whisper, but your voice wavers, and he grins wider.

“tell me what you need, then,” he says, his hips moving just a fraction faster, the sound of skin meeting skin growing louder, wetter, echoing through the room. “tell me what you want so bad.”

“need… need you to make me cum,” you whimper, the words tumbling out, barely audible. “need to feel you.”

he huffs a little. “you’re falling apart just from this? and here i thought i had to really work for it.”

“i—i can take more,” you manage to gasp out, your body responding to his every movement. “just… just give it to me, seungcheol.”

he shakes his head, smirking as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. “you really think you can handle it? with that arm and everything?”

“you know i can!” you protest, trying to keep your voice steady, but your hips betray you, rolling against him. “i’m not fragile, you know? just—just don’t stop.”

“is this what you’ve been craving? sum' good cock to make you cum?”

“yes, yes, god—yes!” you whine, the heat pooling in your belly, threatening to spill over at any moment. the sounds of skin slapping together mix with the sweet squelch of your wetness, making it even more intense.

“fuck—my balls are practically soaked from you. you like how that feels, huh? my cock in your sweet little cunt, makin’ a mess of you?”

“you’re so deep, it feels too good—”

“you okay? i’m not hurting you, am i?”

“no, it’s… it’s perfect,” you manage to breathe out.

“what do you think? you think you can handle more?” he asks, almost a growl as he quickens his pace just a bit, sending your mind spinning even further. “or are you just gonna cry for me?”

“shut up!” you whimper, tears finally spilling over as he hits that spot inside you.

“too good, huh?” he teases, biting his lip to stifle a groan as he watches your face contort with pleasure. “do you think i could make you cum like this?”

“yes! yes, just like this!” you gasp, the words tumbling out of you as you feel the familiar tension building in your core. “oh god, seungcheol—”

“what do you want to say?” he presses, leaning closer. “i want to hear you, babe. tell me.”

his thrusts become more insistent, and your body instinctively responds, clenching tightly around him as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

“that’s it, baby,” he encourages. “let it go. i want to feel you cum around me.”

“seungcheol, i—” your voice catches in your throat, your body convulsing as the pleasure overwhelms you completely, every thought dissolving into pure ecstasy. the world around you blurs as you finally let go, and all you can manage is a soft whimper as you surrender to it.

his eyes widen, watching you, makes your heart race even more, and as you tremble beneath him, you feel him pulse inside you, the sensation of his cock sending you spiraling deeper into that sweet oblivion. “my girl..” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe as he rides you through it, feeling your walls contract around him. “so fucking beautiful.”

staff!seungcheol who’s always attentive, watching you as you recover from your last high. he knows how much you need him, but he’s also so damn careful, ever the dedicated staff member. even as you beg him to keep going, to let him cum deep inside you, he hesitates.

he slips out of you, but you’re not ready to let him go. raising your hand, you grab him by the cock, your fingers wrapping around him with a tightness that makes him gasp. “what the hell? oh fuck!” he exclaims, almost stumbling forward as he’s pulled back toward you. his voice shifts from reprimanding to moaning, the scold dying on his lips as he feels your hand start to stroke him.

“i just want to make you feel good, too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you give him a few slow, teasing pumps, enjoying the way his hips instinctively thrust forward, chasing the pleasure you’re giving him.

“you’re gonna get yourself hurt,” he warns shaky, his hands gripping your wrist, but there’s no real force behind it. he’s clearly enjoying it, his breaths coming faster as you continue to stroke him, your fingers gliding effortlessly over his length. “you shouldn’t—”

“shh,” you hush him playfully, biting your lip as you watch his expression morph into one of pure desire. “just let me do this for you. i want you to feel good.”

“god, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that,” he groans, his voice trembling, but the way you’re working your hand up and down, your palm brushing the sensitive tip, it’s too much.

“then cum for me,” you whisper, a seductive promise in your tone. “i’ll take care of you, just like you take care of me. let go.”

staff!seungcheol, who can’t resist the way you look at him, all teasing yet so earnest, the way you squeeze him with just the right amount of pressure, your hand slick with your cum and sure as you stroke him.

staff!seungcheol, who gives in because he can’t help it, because every part of him is craving you, has been for so long. his hips jerk, thrusting up into your hand with a roughness he usually holds back. his eyes are dark, fixed on your hand working him, and he bites his lip, trying to keep himself steady, but it’s no use—you’re so close, whispering his name, brushing your lips over his with every stroke, and he’s already too far gone.

“i can’t hold back when you look at me like that.”

you laugh deliciously, the sound bubbling up from your chest as you lean in, licking his lips.

staff!seungcheol, who can’t hold back any longer, feels the heat rising in his cheeks as he realizes he’s about to spill over. his breath hitches, and just like that, he’s cumming—hard. it’s a mix of deep, throaty moans and soft whimpers escaping his lips, echoing in the quiet room. your belly and fingers are coated with him, and you can’t help but grin at the sight.

“yes, just like that! keep going, let it out, look at you, all moaning like a little slut. how does it feel?”

“shut up,” he mumbles, half-heartedly trying to glare at you, but his eyes are glassy, the words only making him blush deeper.

you smirk, lifting your hand to your mouth, where his cum glistens on your fingers. you start to lick it off, each slow drag of your tongue making his breath hitch in his throat.

staff!seungcheol who’s mortified, wide-eyed as he grabs your wrist, halting your movements and making your tongue stay out, eagerly waiting. “no, no, don’t do that!”

you pout at him, eyes big and pleading, your voice coming out in the sweetest “please?” he hesitates, visibly torn, but eventually lets go of your wrist, swallowing hard as you close your eyes and bring your fingers back to your lips. the way you lick it all up slowly, savoring each taste with a big-ass smile, drives him crazy. it’s like you’re teasing him all at once, every nerve in his body alive with the sight of you, so effortlessly and unapologetically indulging yourself.

staff!seungcheol who’s at a complete loss, his eyes wide as he watches, helplessly captivated by the way you move, the small smile on your face showing just how aware you are of his reaction. he shifts, clearly trying to gather himself, but you notice his fingers flexing at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to pull you close again.

[not-neverland06]

Hey I’m just begging for a fic of Logan with a shy reader that she has a crush on him but thinks he’s never going to fix on her since Jean exists (maybe the reader can make her hair color change depending on the emotion or something

a/n: sorry I haven’t been responding to asks. The new job has officially killed my spirit. But I got to work out finally and do some yoga so hopefully I’ll start feeling more motivated 🤞🤞this one will be shorter

Logan Howlett x X-men!reader (Chameleon)

“Chameleon!” You jump, shoulders flying up to your ears. Almost immediately you can feel the tips of your fingers tingling. Sure enough, when you look down they’re already disappearing. Sighing, you turn around and glare at Scott. 

“What have I told you about scaring me?” 

He grimaces, raising his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I forgot.”

You roll your eyes and turn back toward your project. “Every time,” you mutter bitterly. You’re not an idiot. You know he thinks scaring you is funny. The whole school does. They all like to see you yelp and blend in with the nearest surface, the only thing visible is your stupid hair. 

“You’re, um, turning red.” Scott points to your head and you don’t have to look to know your hair is shifting colors.

You reach over and swat harshly at his arm, “Because you pissed me off! I know you scare me on purpose,” you accuse, jabbing your finger into his chest. He laughs and stumbles away from you. 

“Alright, alright, calm down. I was just messing around a little. Look,” he glances down at the lesson plans before you and sighs. “All this will have to wait. Charles needs us all for a mission.”

You huff and shove the papers into your desk drawer. “Alright, lead the way.” You feel Scott’s eyes still lingering on your hair and glare at him. “Move it, Summers,” you demand. 

You were already in a bad mood, you didn’t need him making it worse. It honestly shouldn’t be such a big deal for you. You get scared by everyone all the time. You used to enjoy it, enjoyed the way it felt like you all had your own joke. But, eventually, it started to feel less like an inside joke and more like you’re the unwitting butt of one. 

Some mutants get amazing powers, like Jean or Charles. Logan’s abilities are incredible, even if he doesn’t believe you when you tell him that. But yours, well, you're better suited as the cheap gimmick of a children’s birthday party than an X-Men. You’re just a walking mood ring that blends in with her environment. 

The only thing you’re good for is reconnaissance missions and embarrassing yourself. You don’t know what Charles sees in you. You’ve never understood why he insists you’re such a good asset to the team. Yes, you are good at spying on people, but you don’t need to when Charles has such strong telepathic abilities. You’re essentially useless in a fight due to a lack of regenerative or strength abilities. 

More often than not you feel like a child playing dress up, chasing after the big kids. You know the others don’t mean anything bad by it when they tease you into going invisible or laugh when your hair changes. It’s all in good fun. But it doesn’t make you feel any less like easy entertainment rather than a teammate. 

It doesn’t help that you’ve got little to no control over your abilities when it comes to Logan. You’ve never had such a horrifically bad crush like this. Anytime he opens his mouth around you, you're fighting off the urge to just go invisible and run away. You feel like you go feral around him. You don’t know how he hasn’t caught onto what the colors of your hair mean when you’re near him. 

It’s constantly switching between some odd mix of red and pink when you talk. Which, you know what it means, but you’re praying no one else does. Red can mean angry, depending on whether you’re talking to Scott or not. You know, though, that with Logan it just means you want to jump his bones and you’re hopelessly in love with him. 

Thankfully, like the others, he associates red with anger. Which isn’t great for you because that just means he thinks every time he opens his mouth you’re pissed off. At yourself, maybe, but at him, never. It just means when he wears those stupid tanktops you want to dig your teeth into his biceps and never let go. 

Scott opens the door to the meeting room and you slide in past him. Charles gives you a brief smile as a greeting. You take the chair at the end of the table, which just happens to be next to Logan - completely coincidental. He gives you a tense smile and you return it stiffly. You tug your hood over your hair, praying he doesn’t notice the red in your strands yet. You don’t want him to think you hate him. You completely prefer that over him knowing how feral you are for him, but it’s not conducive to your slow plan to finally get him to acknowledge you as a sexual partner. 

You swear, if your name isn’t Jean Grey, you might as well just be a shapeless blob of nothing. He glances over at her, that smoldering look in his eyes, and you try not to throw up in your mouth. Scott wraps an arm around Jean’s shoulders and they break their lingering stares. 

Logan glances over at you and catches the glare on your face before you can get rid of it. He huffs and turns towards Charles. With a sigh, you sink back into your chair and focus on not just going invisible. 

“Chameleon,” Charles says your name and your eyes widen. You wonder how much you’ve missed while you’ve been glaring at the back of Jean’s head. “Does that sound alright with you?”

You look around the table for help but they’re all staring expectantly at you. “Sure,” you stumble over the word, racking your brain for any answers. It seems not even your subconscious was paying attention to Charles droning on. “Sounds great.” He gives you a satisfied nod. 

“Good. Off to the jet, all of you.” he rolls out of the room and you wait until he’s out of earshot to kick Logan under the table. 

He glances back at you, smirking. “Don’t know what you agreed to?”

You purse your lips and shake your head. “Nope,” he gives you a look like he knew you’d say that. You hate how well he can read you when it feels like you’re constantly hitting walls trying to understand him. 

“You’re scoping a place out for us. Making sure it’s safe so we can retrieve some information.” You give him a thankful look and he chuckles. “You need to start paying attention, kid.”

You groan and get up from your chair, brushing past him. “I told you to quit calling me that.” It makes you feel like that’s all he’ll ever see you as, some kid invited onto the team. You want him to see you as someone he could have sex with, hopefully, love one day. 

He glances past you at Jean. She smiles at him and you fight everything inside you to not roll your eyes and gag at them. She’s holding onto Scott and making fuck me eyes at Logan, which he’s happily returning. This is just too disgusting for you. 

You shove past him and ignore how he calls out your name. Your real name. He’s the only one that uses it. For some reason, most people just refer to you by Chameleon. You don’t understand why. They just don’t seem to think of you outside your abilities as a mutant. 

You make it to the jet before the others, taking the private time to change into your X-Men suit. If there’s one useful thing about your ability, it’s that it affects whatever’s touching you. Which means, you don’t have to strip naked to go completely invisible. And if anyone is around you, all you have to do is hold onto them and they’ll blend in too. 

You’re tugging up the zipper of your top as Logan walks in. He gives you an odd look, sitting on the bench in front of you. “Angry about something?” He asks, gaze darting up to your head. 

You drag your fingers over the ends of your hair and sigh. “No,” you tell him bluntly, taking the seat beside him. 

His brows furrow in confusion. “It’s red, though,” he points out, his tone colored in suspicion. 

You laugh a little, “Red doesn’t always mean angry.” It’s the most you’ve ever confided about your hair colors to him. The largest hint you’ve ever given him that you don’t hate him. You’re worried if he knew how you really felt about him, he’d think you were a little creep. 

He slides his arm behind you on the bench, leaning in until you’re practically sharing the same air. You know your eyes are comically large, you don’t even want to know what color your hair is turning right now. “What else does it mean, kid?” He whispers and you don’t even pay attention to the nickname. All you can see and hear right now is him. How close he is, how close your lips are. 

You could lean forward an inch or two and you’d be kissing. “Um,” you swallow harshly around the lump in your throat. You don’t even know what he asked you, all you can think about now is kissing him. 

“Logan!” Ororo’s voice echoes through the jet and you leap away from him, trying to calm your racing heart. Logan sighs and leans back in his seat, giving Storm a tense smile. She glances at you and laughs, “She’s nearly see-through, what are you doing to her?”

You frown and look down at your hands. Sure enough, you’re going translucent. You let out a silent groan, and tuck your knees into your chest. You take a few deep breaths until you’re one solid form again. It’s so embarrassing when that happens, when you lose control over yourself like that. 

But it’s even worse when Logan does it to you. He gives you hope, stupid, hateful hope, for one minute that he might feel something deeper. Only for it to be another joke. You’re a walking mood ring, nothing more than a quick laugh to all of them. 

Jean walks up the ramp, her gaze going to Logan first before drifting towards you. “Are you alright?” She mutters, trying not to let the others hear. Of course, Logan can, with his stupid enhanced abilities. “You’re turning blue,” she points out and you roll your eyes. 

You can feel Logan’s stare burning holes into the side of your head and it only makes you feel worse. You hate being a joke, but you also hate showing them just how much it affects you. You don’t want to seem like a crybaby that can’t handle a little teasing. But you’d thought coming to Charles’ school meant people would stop poking fun at you. It feels like being dragged right back into high school. 

“I’m fine,” you tell her. She doesn’t look like she believes you but she takes a seat anyway. Of course, placing herself right next to Logan, even though her fiancee is a few feet away from her, looking just as hurt as you. They lean into each other and whisper. They’re not even trying to hide it anymore. You let your glare bore into the floor, ignoring how much seeing them together hurts. 

The mission had gone well, Logan had been hoping to go to the bar and grab a drink with you. But the second his back is towards you, you’re running off the jet. Logan calls out your name, trying to catch up. You glance back at him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He smiles at you and your eyes widen. You go invisible and Logan glances around, baffled. 

He calls out your name again but the door ahead of him opens and closes quickly. He can only assume you’ve run away again. You always run away from him. You’re always pissed off at him. He doesn’t know what Jean’s talking about when she says you like him. 

Logan’s never met anyone more repulsed by him. 

“Would you just trust me?” Jean tells him lowly, creeping up behind him. 

His face falls and he turns to her, glaring at her knowing smirk. “She just fuckin’ ran away from me. Pretty sure that’s about as good a hint as I’m gonna get, Jean.”

She glances over her shoulder, waving Scott away and looping her arm through Logan’s. “You’re an idiot, Howlett.” He scoffs and she swats at his shoulder. “Trust me, I can read minds, remember?”

Of course, he knows she’s got some pretty decent telepathic abilities. But he didn’t think she would so brazenly breach your boundaries. There’s an unspoken rule that the mind readers of the school don’t delve into your brain without permission. 

She sees the look on his face and sighs. “I didn’t read her mind. She got drunk a little while ago and told me about her raging crush on you,” she laughs a little at your expense and Logan lets out a short chuckle. You can be a pretty sloppy drunk if they let you go too far. He figures it was one of those girl’s nights he wants nothing to do with. You’d probably let the tight reigns you keep on yourself slip for once. 

“She goes red every time she sees me. I don’t know what else that could mean other than she hates me.” Logan isn’t surprised that you’re not taken with him like he is with you. He’s used to the rejection, but it hurts just a bit more coming from you. You’re so welcoming to the others. 

You embrace every new member of the school with open arms. Yet, with him, you get angry whenever you see him. You see through his walls, see the rot lurking underneath them. And, rightfully, want nothing to do with him. He understands your reasoning. 

Most days he barely wants anything to do with himself. He’s made a lot of bad choices in his life, half of which he can’t remember. But he’d hoped, for one minute, that you might give him a second chance. As much as Jean insists otherwise, he can see the truth of how you feel about him every time you run away. 

“Red doesn’t always mean anger,” Jean tells him elusively. It’s the same thing you’d said to him on the jet. It makes his brows furrow in confusion and he glares at her. 

“What else could it mean?” He demands sharply, sick of her teasing him with the possibility you might feel the same way. 

She bites her lip, looking suddenly sheepish. “I can’t say-”

“Jean,” Logan snaps. He stops her from walking any further, keeping her planted in one spot with him. “Tell me,” he’s sick of the games you’re both playing with him. He just wants some straight fucking answers. How hard is that?

She sighs and looks away from him. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell.”

“And I’m sure you promised you also wouldn’t tell me how she feels about me,” he points out. There’s a sharp tone to his voice, it’s rude but he can’t bother feeling guilty about it. 

She can’t meet his eye, a smirk fighting at the corner of her lips. He waits impatiently for her answer, irritation broiling quickly in his gut. He’s about to snap at her again when she finally meets his eyes. 

She speaks through a laugh, like what she’s about to say is so ridiculous she can’t hold it in. “She wants,” she cuts herself off with another laugh and Logan groans in frustration. He begins to walk away from her when she yells, “She wants to fuck you!” At his back. 

His eyes widen in surprise before he turns back to her with a displeased look. “Are you fuckin’ with me?” He demands, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously. 

She shakes her head and brushes past him. “You didn’t hear it from me,” she warns, tone grave as she leaves the room. 

Logan is left standing in the same spot, stunned at the revelation. He’s not sure how much of that he believes. But he doesn’t understand why Jean would possibly lie to him about this. She gains nothing by setting him up for failure. As much as he doubts the honesty behind her words, he’s got no other choice but to trust them. 

He heads to the most likely place you’re hiding out. Charles has a private library that’s blocked off from the kids. There are too many first editions in there, he can’t risk any of them accidentally blowing them up. You like to head there when you’re trying to avoid people. 

He tries to stay quiet as he walks in, not wanting you to run off again. It’s hard to confront someone who goes invisible whenever she feels like it. He sees light blue hair draped over the back of an armchair. He feels like a creep as he stalks towards you, sneaking and pouncing on you so you can’t run away. 

He can’t imagine how Jean ever thought him approaching you would be a good idea. He whispers your name, trying not to startle you. It doesn’t take a genius to see how much you hate when the others scare you. They might not mean anything bad by it, but they have to be blind not to see how much it pisses you off. 

You still jump, glancing up at him with a surprised look. He looks to your hair for any tells of how you feel. Some pink weaves its way through the stands but it otherwise stays relatively blue. His brows furrow in confusion, he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad sign that there’s no red. 

“How are ya, kid? Ran off pretty quick earlier.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you mutter, giving him a brief glare before staring absently down at the book in your hands. Logan kneels beside your armchair, covering the pages with his hand. You huff, giving him an expectant look. “Yes, Logan?” You demand, tone short.

Logan tilts his head, examining you and your body language. You seem relatively closed off, irritated at him or something else. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been good with words or trying to express how he feels. He’s more comfortable showing how much he cares for those around him. 

Throwing caution to the wind, he lets his hand drift to your wrist and tugs you forward. Your eyes widen as he drags you toward him. The kiss is short, he doesn’t want to push you too much. But it takes everything in him to stop himself from deepening it. All he wants is to pull you into his arms and devour you. 

He holds back, parting from you with a low exhale. Your eyes flutter open and he grins when he sees the bright red your hair has turned. “What,” you sputter and stumble over your words. You shove him back and leap to your feet. “What the hell was that?” You demand, voice higher than he’s ever heard of it. “What was that?” You ask him shrilly, again. 

You almost seem to be stuck in a loop, blinking rapidly and asking the same thing. Logan chuckles and gets to his feet, he gives you a knowing look and you narrow your eyes at him in disbelief. 

“Jean told me.”

Your brows furrow and you shake your head. Realization dawns on your face and you gasp, looking up at him with something like horror on your expression. “No,” you tell him lowly. “She didn’t,” it almost sounds like you’re begging him to tell you otherwise. 

He laughs again and your face falls. You start going clear, he can see the bookshelf through your stomach and he sighs. He grabs your hand, holding onto you before you can run again. You don’t even seem to be aware that you’re slowly disappearing from view. 

“She’s, uh,” he struggles to figure out what to say to make you feel better. “She’s been coaching me,” he admits shamefully. “Trying to help me talk to you.”

You glance up at him but he can barely see your expression. The only thing reassuring him you’re here is his grip on you and your voice. “What? But I thought that-” You cut yourself off quickly and Logan glares down at where he thinks your face is. 

“Thought what?”

You take a long pause and exhale deeply. “I thought,” you mutter, “you liked her.”

“She’s with Scott,” he points out bluntly. He can practically hear you roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it. 

“Yeah, I know. But you guys are always whispering to each other and making googly eyes.”

“Googly eyes?” He interrupts, disgust clear in his tone. 

“I was wrong,” you continue, ignoring him. “I see that now, but I thought you didn’t care about me.”

Logan huffs, he hates that you thought that. He should have just been open with you from the start. He’s faced rejection his whole life, he shouldn’t have been so petrified of it just because it could come from you. If he’d just manned up and told you earlier, it would have saved you both a lot of time and hurt. 

“Kid,” he hopes he’s making eye contact with you and not just staring at some random book. It’s really hard to tell when you go invisible like this. “You’re the only person I care about in here.”

You’re quiet for a long while and he worries you’ve somehow slipped away without him realizing. But, ever so slowly, you start coming back into view. Logan awkwardly averts his eyes from your breasts, he’d been hoping he was making eye contact with you, clearly, he was wrong. 

“You mean that?” You ask, and he hates the trepidation in your voice. He’s never been good with words, he doesn’t know how to tell you how much you mean to him. But he can show you. 

His hand drifts up your arm, wrapping around the back of your neck and tugging you towards him. You trip over your feet, hands landing on his chest to stabilize yourself. He leans down, hovering over your lips for a moment. He waits until your eyes drift shut and your lips purse impatiently before he finally kisses you again. 

He doesn’t hold himself back this time. He pours every racing thought he’s ever had about you, every one of his wanted-to-tell-you-how-he-feels-and-hasn’t moments into the kiss. Your hands slowly curl up into his shirt, wrinkling it and tugging him further into you. 

To his surprise, you deepen the kiss, mouth moving over his like you want to devour him whole. He’s sure if he opened his eyes your hair would be a bright roaring red. He smirks against your lips, happy that, for once, he actually listened to Jean. If it gets him results like this, he might have to do it more often. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allllium @insomniachox @izbelross  ♡ 

[svtiddiess]

Sex Education

Synopsis: In all your years of education you learned that there are many methods to study: flashcards, study groups, the pomodoro method etc. But you find that practice is better than theory. And what better way to study Biology than practice with your study buddy?

Pairing: loser!virgin!med student!Mingyu x afab!med student!reader

Genre: smut, slight crack, one shot, med school! au

Rating: mature

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: pet names (puppy), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), creampie, size kink, choking, loss of virginity, sub!Gyu, big dick!Gyu, loser!Gyu, riding, masturbation, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Thank you so much for helping me with the synopsis my twin @tomodachiii! As promised, here's sub!Gyu.

Thank you so much to @onlymingyus for beta reading!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Mingyu.

That's the only thing on your mind right now—nothing else, just Mingyu. You should probably be paying attention to the lesson, but how could you, with the hot nerd sitting right within your line of sight? Okay, maybe you chose this seat specifically so you could look at him without getting caught, but still! He’s a distraction you’re more than happy to have.

You rest your chin in your hand, sighing as your eyes trace over his figure. He’s built like a Greek god—strong, tall, with perfectly styled black hair, and his large square glasses barely hide his handsome, tan face. Oh, what you’d give just to see him without those glasses on.

You’ve known Mingyu since middle school. You never really interacted, but you definitely noticed him around. Back in school, he was known as the nerdy kid with glasses and a scrawny, lanky frame to match. Shy and awkward, he was an easy target for bullies. But over the years, his muscle mass increased, and his frame filled out. It seems he’s been putting in serious hours at the gym, and it’s definitely paid off.

Although he’s the most handsome guy in med school, he’s still incredibly shy and reserved, keeping his circle small and close-knit. Despite numerous people, especially girls, trying to get closer to him, he just pushes them away. That’s why, despite your massive crush, you haven’t made a move. You’re too scared he’ll shut you out and avoid you for good.

You can't help but bite your bottom lip and squeeze your thighs together as you rake your eyes over his bulging biceps, his shirt barely able to contain the muscle. Just one chokehold; one chokehold is all you're asking for, really. You sigh once again, knowing that you'll never be able to have him.

Your train of unholy thoughts is abruptly interrupted by the sound of your professor calling your name. Startled, you sit up and look towards him.

"Miss Y/N, are you even paying attention?" Prof. Choi huffs, crossing his arms.

"Of course I am, professor," you reply, flashing the sweetest smile you can manage.

"Then, for the third time, please answer the question on the board," he says, gesturing to the problem.

"Uh…" you trail off, completely lost.

Prof. Choi sighs and tells you to see him after class, to which you reluctantly agree. You sink into your chair, dreading what’s to come. Shaking your head, you let out a sigh and shifted your gaze back to Mingyu, watching in awe as he effortlessly answered the very question you stumbled over. Tall, muscular, hot, and smart—he really is the perfect guy.

You grumble as Prof. Choi calls your name, sabotaging your plan to slip out of class. Sighing, you drag yourself over to his desk, only to be surprised when Mingyu joins you. You glance between Mingyu and Prof. Choi, waiting for an explanation.

"Y/N, I’ll get straight to the point—you’re failing this class," Prof. Choi says. "At this rate, I’m not sure you'll be able to move on to the next year."

Well, it’s not your fault that a hot distraction named Kim Mingyu exists.

"That’s why I’ve assigned Mingyu here as your tutor to help you pass," he says, nodding toward Mingyu.

Your eyes widen, and you struggle to suppress a smile. Mingyu tutoring you? Spending time alone with him? This feels like a dream come true. You silently thank both Prof. Choi and the heavens for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Mingyu gives you a shy smile. "I hope we can get along well," he says, extending his hand.

You gratefully take it, noticing the blush coloring his cheeks.

"Please take good care of me, Mingyu," you say, beaming, already looking forward to your tutoring sessions.

You smooth out your skirt one last time before opening the door for Mingyu. You made sure to wear your sluttiest outfit today. After insisting that your brain works better when you study in your room, Mingyu shyly agreed to hold the tutoring sessions there.

You smile and step aside to let him in, watching as he sheepishly steps into your house. Making sure your ass is sticking out, you made him follow you upstairs to your room.

You sat down on your bed, subtly raising your skirt, and gestured for Mingyu to take a seat next to you. He awkwardly took his seat and started pulling out his notes.

He keeps his eyes on his notes as he starts explaining today’s lesson—something about the Krebs cycle, though you’re not really listening. You’re too busy admiring his handsome face. You twirl a strand of hair and blink sweetly as you ask (hopefully relevant) questions, but he barely glances at you while answering.

After what feels like hours of studying (it’s been 30 minutes), you whine and beg him for a break, and he blushes as he agrees.

"Would you like some snacks? Or maybe water or juice?" you ask, perking up.

"Just a glass of water is fine," he mumbles, still focused on his notes.

You nod and grab a glass of water for him and a snack for yourself. Returning, you hand him the water with a smile, which he accepts with a quiet “thank you,” while you peel your banana for your snack.

You lick the tip of the banana before biting down on it, smirking when you see Mingyu gulping at your actions. Noticing you looking at him, he blushes and quickly averts his gaze.

"Want a bite?" You offer him with a sultry smirk.

"N-No, thank you," he mumbles, his ears turning red.

You giggle as you finish your banana and scoot a little closer, prompting him to continue the lesson. But he’s a stuttering mess, tripping over his words and repeatedly asking for more water to soothe his suddenly dry throat.

After stuttering his way through, Mingyu finally managed to finish the lesson. Sore from having hunched over, you stretch, not so subtly pressing your chest against his arm. Mingyu flushes, quickly gathering his notes and mumbling something about being late for a gaming session with Wonwoo.

You see him out, throwing in a wink and waving goodbye. You watch as he stumbles a bit while getting onto his Vespa and driving off. Chuckling to yourself, you can't help but smile at how cute he is.

The rest of the tutoring sessions go the same way: you not-so-subtly flirt with Mingyu, while he either purposely ignores it or remains completely oblivious. You even try to out-slut your outfits with every tutoring session, but nothing seems to work.

One night, after yet another session, you lie in bed, frustrated that Mingyu isn’t picking up on your very obvious hints. Who knew the loser nerd would actually turn out to be a huge loser? You sigh, but him being a huge loser is what you find most endearing about him.

You bite your lip, remembering what he wore today—a black polo that stretched perfectly over his muscles, jeans that hugged his thighs just right, and of course, those thick black frames.

You can't help but sneak your hand down your torso as you remember how his arm felt pressed against your boobs. They felt so strong and firm, you bet that he could easily carry you and fuck you mid-air.

You shiver as your hand sneaks under your panties. You circle your pussy, collecting your arousal before pushing a finger into your hole, sighing at the slight stretch. You moan at the thought of Mingyu's fingers being way bigger than yours. His fingers would stretch you out so well before he finally fucks you with his huge cock.

You insert another finger and start thrusting your fingers, moaning out Mingyu's name. You imagine him hovering over you as he relentlessly thrusts into you, groaning your name right beside your ear. He'd growl as your fingers rake his back, leaving angry red marks. You'd wrap your legs around his hips and push him in deeper, making him breed you.

Your other hand circles your clit as you feel yourself getting to the edge. You imagine him thrusting from behind as his large bicep chokes you, putting just enough pressure to heighten the pleasure. He'd whimper and moan in your ear, letting you know how good you feel wrapped around him. He'd fill you up with his cum, again and again, and again, until the sheets underneath you are soaked with your mixed fluids.

Your breath hitches as you cum, whispering his name like a prayer, hoping that if you say it enough times, he’ll appear before you and make your dreams come true.

But he doesn't, and you're left lying in bed, sticky, sweaty, and alone.

You yawn for the umpteenth time as Mingyu drones on about anatomy; you're sure your brain has shut down by now. You sigh as you lean back onto the bed, too tired even to sit up.

"Mingyu, can we please take a break? I don't think my brain can take any more of this," you groan, resting your arm over your eyes.

"U-Uh, yeah, sure," Mingyu mumbles, fiddling with his notes. "We could always switch to a different topic if you want a change of pace…"

"What's the next topic?"

"The reproductive system."

Your eyebrows shoot up, and a smirk paints your face as an idea pops into your head. You sit up and grin at Mingyu.

"Sure, let's learn about the reproductive system."

Happy that you're finally interested in a topic, Mingyu gathers his notes and starts to explain. After about 15 minutes of explanation, you put your hand over his and gently push away his notes.

"Mingyu, I don’t understand the topic at all," you say with a pout, shifting to sit directly in front of him. His face turns bright red, clearly flustered. "I think it would help if we put the theory into practice so I can learn better," you purr.

Mingyu stumbles over his words, stuttering, his brain clearly short-circuiting. You giggle at his flustered state and shift to sit on his lap, your legs on either side of him.

"Will you let me use you to put the theory into practice, Mingyu?" you ask, tilting your head with a pout as you gently cup his face.

"I-I’m not sure h-how…" Mingyu stammers, swallowing hard.

"Oh, you poor thing," you coo. "It's okay, I'll guide you, puppy. Will you let me?"

He licks his lips and lets out a shaky breath before giving a small nod.

"Don't worry, puppy, I'll make sure to take good care of you," you hum as you gently remove his glasses.

He blinks and looks up at you, lips parted and cheeks flushed. You take a moment to admire his handsome face without the glasses. Cupping his face, your eyes trace over his features—his strong jawline, his parted lips, and the small mole on the tip of his nose. Unable to resist, you lean in and place a gentle kiss there, making him shiver.

"Can I kiss you, puppy?" You whisper.

"P-Please," he whimpers, and you can't help but smile over how pathetic he sounds.

You lean in and press your lips against his, and he kisses back desperately, hungry for your lips. You chuckle into the kiss, his inexperience showing with every hesitant movement. When you pull back, he leans forward, chasing your lips and letting out a soft whine when you don’t return the kiss.

"Puppy, if you don't behave, I will punish you," you scowl, furrowing your eyebrows.

"'m sorry," he mumbles with a pout.

You plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, then slowly run your hands down his torso, gently squeezing each muscle through his white polo. He moans and shivers under your touch, his eyes squeezing shut.

"Puppy works hard in the gym, hm?" You giggle, squeezing his chest slightly harder, eliciting a gasp from him.

You giggle, then start slowly dragging your hands to his arms, squeezing his biceps.

"God, your arms are so big and strong," you moan, squeezing him hard. "I want you to choke me, puppy. Can you do that for me? Choke me with your biceps?"

Letting out a shaky breath, he nods. You shift, pressing your back against his chest. He gently puts you into a chokehold and squeezes his arm slightly. Your eyes roll back, and a moan slips from your lips when you feel his biceps push against your throat.

You can't help but feel small in Mingyu's hold; he's just so big and beefy. You grind your hips against him, and you feel his grip faltering. He whimpers and pushes his erection against your butt.

"P-Please, I can't. I-It hurts," he whimpers against your ear.

You sneak down your hand and palm him through his jeans, making him groan and buck your hips against your palm.

"Need me to take care of your problem puppy?" You giggle, palming him roughly.

"Please," he strains out, choking back a moan.

He releases you from the chokehold, and you quickly clamber over to grab the bottle of lube you've stashed on the side table. You look over to see that he's already pushed his jeans and boxers down and freed his aching cock.

"Impatient are we now, puppy?" You chuckle, making his cheeks heat up.

Locking eyes with him, you give him a sultry look as you slowly peel off your panties but keep your skirt on. He gulps hard, shifting in place, anticipating your next move.

Biting your lip, you slowly crawl back over to him. You pour lube all over his cock and give him a few pumps, he whines your name and bucks his hips, making you giggle.

"Gonna make you feel so good, puppy," you whisper as you shift to hover over him.

You grab onto his shoulders and slowly sink onto his big cock, the stretch making you moan out loud. Mingyu whines and groans under you, his hands fly to your hips, fingers digging into you.

"F-Fuck," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut as your warmth slowly envelopes him.

Your mouth goes agape, and your eyes roll back when you feel his tip kiss your cervix.

"M-Move, please move. I-I can't," he begs, muscles straining under you.

You slowly lift yourself and slam back down onto him, making the both of you moan out loud. Slowly picking up your pace, you start riding him. He becomes a blubbering mess under you, moaning your name and whining at how good it feels.

"Look at the mess we're making, puppy," you pant out, lifting your skirt and showing him the sticky mess forming at the base of his cock.

He looks down at where both of you are connected and moans. He starts picking you up and slamming you down at an animalistic pace, his hips meeting you halfway. You squeal at the feeling of him rutting into you.

Unable to hold back any longer, he cums hard, filling you up to the brim with his seeds. Desperate to reach your high, you continue to ride him despite his chokes and whimpers. You capture his lips into a messy kiss to distract him from the overstimulation.

"C-Circle my clit," you mumble in between the kiss, and he complies, his hand immediately sneaking down and rubbing your clit in circles.

You yell his name as you cum around him, squeezing every drop of cum out of him. Mingyu moans, and a few tears slip from his eyes at the feeling of you squeezing him with a vice-like grip.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, your head resting on Mingyu’s shoulder as he leans back against the headboard. Licking your lips, you cup his face and look into his dazed eyes.

"You did so well, puppy," you coo, watching him blush and give you a fucked-out smile.

"But I don't think I've fully understood the topic yet. Maybe we should go over it again, just to be sure," you say before smashing your lips on his again.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour

@iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina

@theidontknowmehn @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @toplinehyunjin

[thepradapariah]

Mars ☄️ and Your Sexxx Language 🐱💋✨

QUICK MESSAGE TO THE BADDIES

HELLO!!!! To all of my sweet, sweet Kosmic Baddies, Oh!! How I’ve missed you!

I cannot believe it’s been over a FRIGGIN year, but GOODNESS….believe me, when I say this past year has been a roller coaster for me, I truly mean it. I can only imagine what’s been going on in your lives as well. Just TOO MUCH!!!1111!!!!!111!!!!!1 But welcome to 2024! A universal 8 year and the year of the Dragon!!! WE IN THIS THANNNNGGG!!!! Hard work, discipline and accountability is the theme, and we can’t lose!!!!!

Believe it or not, I actually STARTED writing this to have to you for Halloween, but ummmm….this is looking like a Valentine’s Day post instead! HA!!!! Blame it on my Saturn in Pisces– my relationship to time is….non existent. But, I think this timing is better anyways. The theme is very fitting so we are going to turn apples into oranges.

***Even funnier update, now it’s past Valentine’s Day….GOODNESS!!! This has been the longest it’s taken me to write anything. Like…INSANE. Almost 6 months I’ve been steadily working on this!

Thank you to those who have continued to support me! Thank you to those who have continued to share and interact with my post through my…let’s say, hiatus! I am planning to put more energy and effort into this blog post. I LOVE writing for y’all, it is really one of my favorite things in the world.

I am going to take a moment to apologize in advance and say, the typos are probably going to be real with this one. Because I’ve been working on it for so long, I’m just ready to get it out, so it won’t be my cleanest work. I will probably be updating and editing, so bare with me!

🕯 INTRODUCTION 🕯

Sooooo….where to start? I wanted to do something fun and interesting this go round because I missed y’all so much, but I also wanted to do something light so I could get back into the rhythm of writing again….aaaaaaaaaand I thought you would enjoy something a little smexiiiii as we move into cuddle buddy season. So, in this post, we are going to talk about Mars and Your Sexxx language.

One day, as I was driving around town, it dawned on me that we always talk about Love Languages (check out my Mercury post if you haven’t already) and we never talk about sex languages. And y’all know me, and if you don’t know, you’ll soon find out, I am a Bharani moon (atmakaraka at that); and the blending between Mars and Venus is my soul’s most valuable asset to share with the world…(Did I mention my moon is the 11th House?) Sex is one of the most taboo topics (in Western puritan culture, at least), yet such a powerful resource in our human tool box and it’s ridiculously important in our relationships. The 7th House is followed by the 8th House for a reason. Intimacy, of course not always sexual, is what leads to self-discovery, the 9th House. So we cannot overlook the important step that is sexual relations. Even the word “orgasm” means “little death” and death baby, is as close as you get to God. (See how those houses flow together so well?) Hence why things such as Tantra are a sexual AND religious experience all in one. Don’t be fooled by western/christian ideals into thinking that sex is unholy or ungodly. If you think Jesus was a virgin, think again. I mean, what’s the point of turning water into wine if you’re just going to roll over and go to sleep? Y’know what I mean?

Don’t worry! If you’re a less experienced reader, and haven’t engaged in aaaaallll thhhaattt… this post is still for you! In fact, this is one of the reasons I love astrology so much, because hopefully this post will give you some context about yourself and what your SOUL craves, not just your body, so when you do start “doing the do” you can be spiritually comfortable with your wants and desires instead of ashamed or even afraid of them.

Not to put all my business on the street…but, hey, I love y’all, so I won’t keep too many secrets from you (mercury in the 8th, HA)…but, I had to do quite a bit of bumping and grinding to discover what my soul needs in an intimate relationship and I wish there was more of “guide” for me on that journey! So HERE…I’m giving it to you!

WHAT IS A SEX LANGUAGE? 😈

To be completely honest, a “sex language” isn’t something as defined as a love language, so please, bear with me as we discover this together. Please feel free to share any experiences or insight with me. Although I may not always respond, I TRULY appreciate you taking the time to share with me. I try to read everything that I can!

I’m defining sex language as how one creates and shares intimacy in their close relationships. This is particularly expressed through physical interactions and outward expressions. Mars is a planet that governs our passions, drives and desires, meaning our sex language is guided by what we deeply want and crave from our partners on a spiritual level. Venus represents more of the external notions that we have for love and relationships, while Mars represents our internal needs from love and relationships. Mars is inherently a more personal and “self-centered” planet, so interestingly enough, your sex language is all about you! I go as far to say, when you find a partner, don’t forget to check your Mars compatibility as well. If you have extremely incompatible Mars signs, you will have to do a lot more work in the relationship to overcome the constant friction. Moreover, if you have more compatible Mars signs, then WOOOO BABY, the sexual tension could be off the charts!

✨ ABOUT MARS ✨

Mars placements won’t make or break a relationship, per say, but it is a very important layer to help maintain a relationship. How many of you have heard of sexless marriages and people being unsatisfied in their relationships in a sexual way? Does that mean the couples always break-up because of the lack of sex or chemistry? No…..But does it help a HECK OF A LOT when you are wildly attracted to your partner? YES! (Of course this isn’t always a good thing…but for the sake of this post, we are only talking about rainbows and sunshine.) Just keep this in mind as you start to use this knowledge in your journey. Mars is a really important planet that is easy to overlook because it’s not in the Big Three! (Yet, it iiissss the natural ruler of the 1st House).

WHY IT ALL MATTERS 🌚

I truly believe there is a shift in the collective and many couples are going to be coming into union over the course of the next year or so. Why? Because Ketu is FINALLY transitioning out of Libra and entering Virgo. If you’ve noticed, we’ve seen quite a bit of celebrity break-ups and covid relationships coming to a screeching halt. Hence why I say, if you’ve been single, or haven’t been in a serious connection in the last few years or even ever, now is the time that your next partner might be going through some significant ending with an ex. Union is on the horizon for a lot of souls who have been doing theeee spiritual work. That’s why I couldn’t think of a better topic to get started to set the mooooooooood. Bow-chicka-wow-wow.

So without further ado, let’s get into the nitty gritty. I’m going to do something different and start with Mars in Pisces/12th House and work backwards to Mars in Aries/1st House! I thought “Hey! Why not switch it up a bit? Pisces shouldn’t be forced to scroll ALL the time!”

***Note: If you’re feeling extra spicy, you can read for whatever sign is in your 1st House and 8th House as well because those are traditionally Mars ruled Houses. And you can read for your 12H, because the 12H is also the house of bedroom pleasures! Always keep in mind that we are complex creatures and astrology is like a puzzle, so it’s okay for some things to resonate and other things to not. Learn as many perspectives as possible so you can define yourself!

With Love & Lust,

Enjoy!

A-D 💋

Mars in Pisces/Mars in the 12th House

“Cut me like a rose, turn me like a beast” Only- Ry X

If your natal Mars is in Pisces or the 12H, you may actually have a hard time knowing what your desires are. Why? Because Mars can feel as if it’s drowning in the deep spiritual waters of Pisces. Your wants can be quite dreamy. You crave a sexual experience that transcends space and time, forcing you to leave your body and touch God himself in ecstasy. (I’m a western Mars in Pisces, so…I get it). When it comes to your sex language, you want your partner to just get “you”. You don’t want to have to explain or talk or direct, you’d rather just receive and give a special type of unconditional love that knows no bounds. Because of this “boundless love”, you may actually, literally, lack boundaries. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing, so we are going to focus on the positive. You are truly accepting of those who are accepting of you. Because Pisces is a mutable sign, you are willing to fit into whatever box your partner wants to put you in…and you receive great pleasure from making a deep seeded fantasy of your partner come true. You could be just as playful and imaginative when it comes to role-playing as a Gemini.

Because Mars is in Pisces or the 12H, you’ll find that a lot of partners will project their wishes and dreams onto you. Hence why you want a love that is really deep, because people can get washed away in the shallow end of your energy without ever fully realizing how deep your waters flow. This can be frustrating. And because Mars isn’t the most comfortable here, you can have some unhealthy ways of expressing your sexual frustration. Particularly if your Mars is in the 12H, you can be attracted to self-gratification through self-pleasure and also self-harm. You may even conflate the two, harm & pleasure, and have a dark side to your sexual fantasies. Your passions and desires can end up being repressed because people may not understand them, or be able to meet your high expectations. Amd babes, I love you, but just know, your expectations out of partnership are OTHERWORLDLY. But no worries!! You are SUPER DUPER freaky and almost a guaranteed partner that will go down in history books, particularly after you get comfortable in your own sensuality.

One of the things to watch out for with this Mars, is you can be passive-aggressive in the bedroom. You can take a more passive role, expecting and energetically demanding that your partner take the lead. You may not realize you even give off this energy, but the internal need that you have to dissolve into your partner, like sugar into water, can be very intense. And the gag is, sugar doesn’t really fully dissolve, so what you’re seeking can be impossible to satisfy on the earthly plane. Because of this, it is IMPERATIVE for you to have spiritual outlets within your sexual connections. It may be that you and your partner practice Tantra, or you simply pray together. With this Mars, you can absolutely use sex as a tool for manifestation. Watch your thoughts during sex, because you truly can create MAGIK!

Mars in Aquarius or Mars in the 11th House

“I believe in aliens, I don’t believe in love” Familiarity by Teezo Touchdown

If your natal Mars is in Aquarius or the 11th House, you are something special. Why? Because out of all the signs, you are the most unique lover. I KNOW!!! How friggin’ cliche, Aquarius=Unique, blah blah blah…boring. YES! It’s said all the time, but it’s the truth. In Vedic Astrology, it is important to note that Aquarius is ruled by Saturn and Rahu. This is hugely impactful as to why you are unlike anyone else. Even as you read this, you won’t be exactly like the next person reading this, because the Saturn Rahu combination can be influenced by so many different factors. Aquarians are the hardest sign to write for in general, simply because you are going to be very individualist when it comes to how you express yourself. Now, all that being said, you still crave, very deeply, a sense of belonging. So please, don’t ever take for granted how special you are. If someone is lucky enough to break through your hard exterior, they really are in for an extraterrestrial experience!

Because Mars is in an air sign here, you may or may not be the most sensual and/or sexual person on the planet. You could be. But you could not be. And that is the gift…or curse…of this Mars placement. I have Mars in Aquarius myself, and I remember reading an article that said “this placement can be infuriating to your partner because you are so nonchalant.” And I can definitely say I’ve lost relationships because the other party assumed I was disinterested because I wasn’t the most expressive when it came to my emotions. It’s important to remember that Mars in Aquarius/11H is actually a neutral placement. It isn’t a death sentence or the worst thing on the planet, but it’s not necessarily the best. So don’t be too hard on yourself if your partners don’t understand you very easily. You will just have to do more work to learn how to communicate and accommodate in your relationships. This may be something that follows you throughout life…and forget your partner….it could be infuriating to you! BUT NO WORRIES! Mars in Aquarius or Mars in the 11th house is usually more concerned with developing and nurturing friendships, which seems to contradict the more lustful side of Mars. Longing for friendship and connection versus longing for sensual pleasure and connection can be seen as two different things.

What Mars in Aquarius/11H wants more than anything is L. O. Y. A. L. T. Y. Because this Mars placement can grant so much freedom, it is imperative for the person with this placement to feel safe and secure in the sexual relationship they are building. This is NOT to be confused with possession. Expecting loyalty from a partner isn’t the same as feeling as if you own your partner. You believe that your partner should have freedom to express and live their life the way they want to, and you expect the same in return. However, you do expect your partner to consider you when they make their decisions in life. It is very much “give a dog a bone, leave a dog alone, let a dog roam and he’ll find his way home” (S/o DMX, may he rest in peace). Meaning, in your sexual language, you want your space and privacy, but you want to feel a belonging no matter how far away you are from your partners.

NOW, for the fun stuff. You are one of the most explorative lovers on the planet. You may have a “the more the merrier” type attitude and be interested in group smexii time or oragies. You may have a dream to experience Amsterdam and the Red Light District. The beauty in having your Mars in an air sign/house is that you can remain detached from the sexual experience and partner– therefore, you may not experience jealousy because you aren’t super possessive. Again, you’re all about freedom baby!!! You may also have some pretty “far-out” kinks. You may be interested in different genders, or same gender, or mix gender or no gender or latex or pantyhoes or dress up or furries or hentai or tentacle porn….and if you’re not into it, chances are you will at least click a questionable link or two. You don’t carry the same shame as others do when it comes to what turns you on sexually. You don’t like anything boring or too routine, so your search history could be a bit…odd….BUT HEY!!! As long as it’s not hurting anyone or anything and pleasure is being derived from all parties involved, then let adults do what adults do is kind of your attitude.

Friendship is the key to your heart…and to your…uh…biological box….lol. When it comes to long-term relationships, I can bet my bottom dollar that you’re far more interested in the friendship aspects than the inherent relationship drama. When your friends ask “why are you still dealing with them”, you will follow up with “well, we are friends before anything else.” And you mean that deeply. The really funny thing is…on the other hand, you are also very likely to get down with complete strangers and never think about it again. You can hook-up and detach with the best of them, or your loyalty to a confidant can keep you in a relationship for a very long time…it. Just. depends.

The one thing that is true about your sex language, is that you speak ALL different kinds. When you look back at your life and your experiences, if you are more of an adventurous Aquarian, lets say you have a lot of air and fire in your chart, you will most likely have all kinds of stories from all different people and places. You will be one of the most interesting partners and friends to talk to about all the mixed bags of experiences that you’ve had..which is awesome. If your Mars in Aquarius/11H is paired with a more “earthy” sign or even water, you will most likely have a rom-com type love thing happening…that tugging “will they/won’t they” energy at the beginning of relationships, only to fall head over heals with the “guy/gal next door”. You may also find your sexual partners online, in a group setting or be hooked up by natural friends. “How’d you meet?” “Oh, I heard from a friend of a friend that that d*ck is a ten out of ten!”

Mars in Capricorn or Mars in the 10th House

“My vicious love, My lethal heart, I wanna screw you up into me” - Bad Bad Bad by Ramsey

If your natal Mars is in Capricorn or in the 10th House, then your sexual language is money, money…and….uh….more money. I kid, I kid…but not really. It would be easy and predictable for me to say you just lust after money, but it goes much deeper than that. Believe it or not, Mars is actually exalt in Capricorn, so, you couldn’t have a better Mars placement. Your natural ruler Saturn and Mars truly are the best of friends. And if you’re familiar with Tarot, then you know The Devil represents Capricorn energy and The Devil is all about seduction and temptation. Unlike some of the more dreamy Mars placements like Pisces/12H or Cancer 4H that use their sexual language as an escape from reality, or the detached air placements like Gemini/3H or Aquarius/11H, who are too aloof to harness Mars’ energy, YOU my Capricorn/10H individuals are acutely aware of how powerful the nature of sex can be…and most importantly, how it can be used to your advantage.

To the average person on the street, you may not seem like the super sexual type. You prefer a sophisticated lover to a “cute” one, so people can assume that your standards are too high. And perhaps, your standards are high, because you understand the value of your presence and your time. In fact, you HATE wasting time, so why would you waste time on lovers who don’t bring anything to the table? Sadly, for most of the public, they won’t ever have the experience to be with a Capricorn/10H Mars because quite frankly, they can’t afford it.

Funnily enough, I’m sure as you’ve been reading this, you’re like “dang…am I that shallow?” And the answer is yes and no. You’re shallow because we live in a shallow world– and you know in order to survive it, you have to use what you got to get what you want. The other side of this is, you’re not shallow at all because you are willing to work and discipline yourself and sacrifice for those that you truly care about. There is such a depth to you in the long run, that it makes sense that you make it really difficult for people to get to you. Because you know and I know, once you’ve committed to someone, you’ve committed for as long as you possibly can. Your sexual language is all about stamina and endurance. This is true in and and out of the bedroom. As an earth sign/house, you are a sensual being. You enjoy each and every bit of romance that you can get. A nice meal, some good perfume, dressed to the nines is all considered foreplay to you. You entice your partners with a certain dignified class and only the brave will approach. In your younger years, you could find this extremely frustrating at times because men will really have to get their sh*t together before they can even THINK to approach you on that level. But the more that you use your Mars to get you where you want to be in life, partners will follow behind you and constantly buzz around as if you are the Queen Bee and they are mere workers for your attention.

Funnily enough, you are quite the heart-breaker with this Mars placement. Because you are so focused on your goals outside of love, and yet, you can crave sensual pleasures, you will be very direct with a partner, but they may not be aware of how serious you take yourself. How can this manifest? Let’s say you meet a partner and everything is groovy, but you are working on a big project for work, you’re working on a degree of some kind, or you’ve said you won’t rest until you make partner at the big company…unlike other Mars placements, you won’t let romance sway you or take you off track. You are probably the best example of “right person, wrong time”. You don’t have as much of an issue as other signs walking away from a situation that is distracting you from your more worldly desires. This can leave people utterly confused, because you seem like a perfect partner, but honestly, you’re just not focused on aaaalll the drama that can come with fully committed relationships. People may actually take this energy and say that you’re a player…or worse…a floozy (one of my favorite words lol, definitely needs to make a comeback). You actually aren’t. You will be one of the most committed partners they could find, but if it’s not the right time…it just ain’t happening. So your partners will have to maintain some level of patience or they will miss out. On the other hand, because Mars is a planet of extremes, you may go through periods in life where you are celebate. It may take you awhile to stop channeling that Martian ambitious energy into your career and put it towards your sexuality. That being said, you will enjoy the more sensual side of sex. You could have great stamina and endurance. Because sex may not come around as often as you’d like, you will learn to savor every drop of your partners and please them in a calculated, thoughtful and masterful way! How smeeexxxiiiiiii!!!!!

Mars in Sagittarius or Mars in the 9th House

“I’ve been everywhere, man, looking for someone. Someone who can please me, love me all night long” Where Have You Been by Rihanna

If your natal Mars is in Sagittarius or the 9th House, your sexual language is that of many languages. You fall in love with the exotic, unknown and unexplored. You like your partners like James Bond likes his cars– foreign. You appreciate partners who expand your understanding of reality. Your partners have to expand your mind…and body…into positions that you never thought were possible. If you don’t attract partners who are of a different race, culture or class from you, then you will be attracted to partners who are otherworldly and spiritual or are just as serious about their religious beliefs as you are. Like Mars in Pisces/12H, your planet is ruled by the planet Jupiter, aka Guru. You NEED to learn from your partner. You NEED to explore with your partner. And you NEED to be able to teach your partners something as well. “I wanna know…can you show me…I wanna know about the strangers like me”...It’s giving…Tarzan and Jane. I have Mars in the 9th House, and it has manifested in a very fun way! So with my bias, I believe that this can be one of the more fun placements if you just go with the flow. Unlike other Mars placements, you don’t necessarily feel the need to control your partners. You’d much rather experience them, learn the lesson and move on to the next new shiny thing. Much like your brother, Gemini, you are equally as invested in getting the knowledge and seeking more knowledge. You of all signs are unlikely to overstay your welcome in a relationship. You can come off quite restless and unsatisfied…UNLESS you are just fascinated and enamored with an individual.

You can find yourself attracted to people who have accents, or speak a different language than you. But you will be even more turned on by someone who shares the same religious beliefs as you. You may actually be willing to convert religions for your partner OR, and this is more likely, you have a partner who is a different religion than you are, and instead of being ashamed by it, or making it an obstacle, you embrace it– ultimately respecting their religion, while maintaining the traditions of your own.

You will naturally desire to travel with your partner. Making some of your favorite memories in life when you made-love in some far off land. If the sentence, “I made love to a Frenchman I met while eating a baguette at the local cafe under the Eiffel tower and I’ll never see him again, but he’s the love of my life” turns you on…congratulations, you’re in the right spot.

This Mars placement is fueled by your deepest desire to see the world and its deepest truth, and then just imagine how much you can learn about the world through the lens of an intimate partner. Your sexual language, like I said earlier, involves language in and of itself. You want to hear the stories of distants lands, fascinated by the foreign nature of your divine counterpart. You will want to be intimate with partners who can speak for hours and hours about their adventures and endeavors. You need to be intrigued at the very least.

I also find that with this placement, there may be an age difference in your relationships. You either will be attracted to someone who is much older and wiser, OR, interesting enough, you could find yourself with someone younger. Why is this? You will appreciate a person who still has zest for life. You will be equally attracted to partners who are bright eyed and bushy tailed! Plus, I know I’ve talked a lot about your partner entertaining and teaching you, but the truth of the matter is, you will want to be as much of a sage to your partner as well. You will enjoy teaching them the ways of life and the pursuit of happiness. They will look to you with eyes of wonder as you paint beautifully vivid pictures of your life experiences that have shaped your view of the world.

Another element to this Mars placement, is you are one to challenge authority. This may manifest in your sex language by liking to explore BDSM culture in some way. Because this Mars is all about freedom, you may be turned on by the thought of your partner controlling you…just so you can say no. You can come off as a “well, make me”...kind of lover when it comes to foreplay. You love a challenge and you like partners who challenge you in some way when it comes to living out your sexual fantasies. Another way this may come out is you AND your partner may have a knack for getting into trouble or enjoying sex with some kind of risk involved. You get off being able to sneak away for a quickie. You’ll have sex in the backseat of a car. Joining the mile club is definitely on your bucket list…all the things! Because you are such a rebel, you tell stories that have “normies” clutching their pearls and leave their mouths open. You want to have memorable sex that is worth writing a book about!!!

I can not drive home enough how spiritual your sexual relationships have the potential to be. You are not a shallow lover. You are a lover full of wonder and full of lust…wanderlust…if you will. Sagittarius/9H is a very serious zodiac/house. You're destined to seek truth– so your sexual partners HAVE to enlighten you in some way. You don’t want to get stuck in the mundane, boring stuff of a relationship, (and please, don’t get too carried away, because we do live on planet earth!) you want to experience shrooms, talk about God and make love in the forest! Smexxiiii!!!!

Mars in Scorpio or Mars in the 8th House

“Every breath you take, every move you make, every smile you fake, every single day, I’ll be watching you” Every Breath You Take by Sting

Okay, okay, it would be all too easy to say your love language is stalking, and more stalking and even more stalking, but…that’s only a small fraction of what this Mars placement has to offer. If your natal Mars is placed in Scorpio or in your 8th House, your sexual language is that of raw passion and intensity. That being said, it is also about restraint and self-restriction, and sometimes self destruction. I tend to find Scorpionic energy and 8H energy to be radically internal. You, actually, may not be the most expressive lover. You are more comfortable waiting, studying and planning to pursue a lover, rather than going in full force. Because Mars is your natural ruler, Mars is more than comfortable here, but unlike your brother sign, Aries, you are more of the “planning” part of war, rather than action. This is the strategy of self-defense more than anything. You don’t want to walk into an intimate situation to be intimate yourself, you want to extract vulnerability from your partner like a detective solving a murder crime. Your sex language is more of a riddle than a question. And you would like a partner who intrigues you and leaves a lot of mystery. In my many many years of dating, and many many encounters with Scorpionic energy (I attract them like flies…it’s crazy) I always find that Scorpios are nowhere near as mysterious or hard to figure out as they perceive. Behind all that black and dark stares and gazed is usually a pretty pretty boring, but shy person. There is such a caution with this sign when it comes to acting on those very deep and sometimes all consuming desires, so you are very careful to not put yourself in harm's way. Another hot take that I have on this placement that may seem a bit contradictory to the Scorpionic stereotype is YES YES YES, you are smexxxxiiii and all of the things, but that doesn’t necessarily make you the most sexual person. You take intimacy and sexy very seriously, more seriously than most, because for you intimacy and vulnerability can be used against you and be seen as a weakness, so you are hard pressed to just be going around willy-nilly swinging from partner to partner. You also view sex/intimacy as more of a “power” thing than a “love” thing. And what do I mean by that? You know that deep intimacy and truly being intertwined with another individual gives you an unreal amount of access to that person on a personal and spiritual level. It is always important to remember where Scorpio/8H lines up in the grand scheme of things. It follows the Libra/7H of partnership. The 8H is actually the house that dictates how a relationship will play out. This. Is. Imperative. To understand this placement. You are far more focused on how the partnership plays out, rather than the partnership itself. Again, unlike your predecessor, Libra, who is ruled by Venus and may be more interested in the looks of a relationship and romantic partner. Your sexual language is more interested in the psychology of your partner. You don’t care nearly as much about the outside as you do the inside. What draws you to your partner is a need to access the ultimate truths through your partners. Hence why, you are followed by Sagittarius/9H of Truth and Liberation. Your sex language involves restraint, power and hidden truths.

As I said before, it may be really difficult for you at times to truly connect with your partners because your energy can demand sooooo much from them. You will require partners to go through such depths in their relationship with you, that they may not be able to handle it. And on the other side of that, you may stay away from relationships because you may mistakenly feel like it brings out some of your “worst” qualities. With this Mars, you may go through a very intense relationship when you’re young, one where you give your all, I mean…you would kill or be killed for those you love, and because that relationship fails, you may never want to experience those types of lows again and stay away. You are one of the most loyal of the Mars placements, so you are very careful to study who exactly you are giving your loyalty to. I recommend with this placement, you may find yourself oddly attracted to Aquarian/11H energy. It sounds weird, water and air, but in this case, Aquarian energy is endlessly fascinating because they are so unorthodox, you will never truly figure them out, so you’re constantly intrigued by them. Aquarians also value loyalty the same way you do. They will allow you the freedom that you need to sit in your own emotions, but value the friendship in such a way, you won’t feel abandoned by them. Even if the people you are attracted to don’t have Aquarius in their chart, I think that quality is something you should consider when looking into intimate partners. It is probably the partner who gives you the most space and it is the hardest to figure out, that will give you the most in life. If you have a partner that is easy to conquer, not only will you be bored, but you can easily slip into those darker energies of control and manipulation to get you way…even when it’s unnecessary.

AAALLLL that said, you are still a hell of a lover! I mean…wow. You intricately know how to please and conquer. You use sex as a language itself when you’re ready and willing. And man, do you have a way with words. You can easily hypnotize a lover to fall under your command, so be careful with this gift. You are more than comfortable in this arena once you move past your fears in the subconscious. You can channel this energy, much like the exalt Mars in Capricorn to succeed with some of your greatest ambitions. You will put your sexual energy into your work and projects in a way like no other! Just don’t take everything so seriously! It’s okay to have a good time. Be intimate and open up some! You’ll enjoy getting your head out of the sand!

Mars in Libra or Mars in the 7th House

“What a rush & what a high, cause when your love don’t fight, smoke gets in your eyes” Smoke In Your Eyes by Skepta, Ossie, Harry Stone

If you came to this section thinking that I was going to talk about how sweet and balanced you are when it comes to your sexual language…THINK. AGAIN. BABE. You are nothing of the sort. Seems contradictory, huh? Because Libra/7H is all about balance, right? Well…not when it comes to this Mars placement.

If you have your natal Mars in Libra or the 7th House, you are quite the spicy lover. To be completely honest, Mars is VERY uncomfortable here. Why? Because Libra is naturally ruled by the planet Venus, which is essentially the opposite frequency of Mars. I like to think of Mars and Venus as the brother and sister planets of the Milky way. Traditionally ruled by Ares and Aphrodite in Greek mythology respectively, they are technically half-siblings. So when you think of this Mars placement, this of how a girlie-girl would feel surrounded by all boys at a football camp. Sure, she may attract a lot of attention and she may have plenty of options…but she will CERTAINLY have to set clear boundaries to command the respect she deserves, as well as deal with the fact that no one around her may have the same interest. See how this can be uncomfortable? It’s not the worst thing to happen, but it can cause you to feel like you have to play the field a little bit differently because of Mars being in the House of Libra.

Okay, so now that we covered why this placement might be different than what you were imagining, let’s get into what this post is actually about!

If you have this natal placement, your sex language is all about breaking up to make-up. Because you’re on this constant quest of seeking balance, YOU will subconsciously or consciously seek chaos in order to regain balance. Your indecisive and somewhat aloof nature in relationships can be a source of frustration when it comes to your sexual expression with your lovers. If you have Mars in your 7H, you genuinely LOVE conflicts and attract conflicts to your relationships. You can be quite passive aggressive, honestly, and stir the pot to get attention. AAALLLL this being said, you still enjoy the finer things and love the idea of love, even though you may not have the most direct way of going about it. Your partners may even find you hard to read, and this can frustrate you, because your wishy-washy-ness is so innate to you, you may have a tendency to think that everyone is as back and forth with decision making as you are.

Ironically, more so than any of the previous placements I have discussed before, I will focus more on what sexual language you like from your partner rather than yourself. Of course, you like good food, good wine, good clothes, good banter, good company…you have Libra, like DUH, but I want to offer a different perspective on this placement.

So when it comes to your partners, you truly like a partner who takes charge, regardless of sex. You crave a level of masculinity and directness in your love language because as I stated earlier, it can be difficult for you to make decisions for yourself. You overemphasize how people will perceive you, and this can cause you to stunt your decision making, so you’ll find yourself craving a partner who can be unabashedly unapologetic in their approach to life. You seek partners who are brave and courageous and you will find yourself testing anyone you fall in love with to see if they have that spark of passion in them. You may find yourself seeking different things from different people, so you may have multiple lovers– and just like how it may take you forever to pick out your outfit in the morning, it may take you forever to figure out what you value in a partner. It is important to note that Libra/7H energy is indeed a masculine energy. I’m sure most would assume it’s feminine because of the “sophisticated” and charismatically social nature usually associated with Libras, but when it comes to sexual relationships, Taurus/2H energy is the feminine side of Venus. Libra energy in this way is more detached than people would think. As stated earlier, because you enjoy dates, chatting, getting to know people, you may be a really good casual dater! This could send mixed messages to potential lovers because you may have never really had any intention of dating them long-term– or, you really just haven’t decided yet. Now are we starting to see how this Mars placement can attract certain conflict? You will desire and crave a partner that can make decisions for you. This may lead to some kinkiness in the bedroom because you’re open to compromise and you can be bossed around in this regard.

Overall your sexual language is complex because of the inherent contradiction of this natal placement. You can make this work in your favor as long as you keep open communication with your partner, even if it’s to tell them that you need some more time before you’re comfortable making any lasting decisions. When you date, you will have to allow your partners to understand your up & down nature. Most people will probably take your pragmatic nature personally, so if you can find a way to channel this into being sexually playful with your lovers, it can be a great way to keep romance fun and interesting. As stated in the beginning, you are most likely to end up in an on-again-off-again kind of relationship because you like for the scales to be tipped, so you can rebalance them. You are far more detached in commitments than most people would assume, so it is essential for you to date like-minded people who understand that your coldness is not a reflection on your feelings. You choose to remain objective in your judgements and seek fairness in your relationships—even if you are the one who was unfair to begin with! Kiss it kiss it better baby!!!!

Mars in Virgo or Mars in the 6th House

“I got commitment issues, but I’m tryna fix that for you…I don’t believe in love, but that doesn’t mean I don’t take you serious” Commitment Issues by Central Cee

With Mars in Virgo or the 6th House, you may be surprised to find how non-committal you are when it comes to relationships. Why? Because you find relationships to be impractical. So when it comes to your sexual language, you are quite all over the place. Lovers can find you hard to catch, almost like trying to keep a fairy in a jar. You prefer to flutter around and keep things light in the sexual department. To you, sex can scream responsibility. After all, sex can be a pretty risky and dirty affair. All the fluid exchange and, ultimately, the required vulnerability, can make you quite uneasy. With this Mars placement, you can go between the two extremes of putting too much emphasis on sex or not enough emphasis at all. This is due to the natural ruler of Virgo/6H being Mercury, which, I find to be, an asexual planet. You are more interested in the intellectual connection than the physical connection.

BUT PLEASE, don’t get me wrong! You know you’re way around the bedroom. Your sexual language is constantly evolving. You do well with long-term partners that you can trust, study and get to know. You prefer a lover that is loyal, so you don’t have to worry about where they’ve been, or better yet, who they’ve been with. You find joy in repetition with one partner. OR, you are really open to “protected” one-night stands. You are either all in or all out. You don’t like to waste time on sexual relationships that you don’t see a return for a long-term investment. That being said, if you are unable to invest in the long-term, you can find yourself in a position of sexual frustration. You may really desire a person, but because of your deep need for perfection first, you may stall connections & find a lot of pleasure in masturbation for the time being. You, like your opposite sign, Pisces, can really get into your fantasies. You may find that erotica and romance novels can be great resources to pass the time while you likely toil between celibacy and being a whore (this is particularly funny to me because Virgos are known for being the Virgins of the zodiac– hence the contradiction in Mars in Virgo. The planet of sex and desire ruled by a “Virgin” is, uh….a difficult juxtaposition to say the least.) – again, it’s all about mental stimulation with you.

When you do meet a partner that you can FINALLY settle down and feel comfortable with, you will be a very giving lover. Because Virgo energy is usually associated with servitude, you better believe that you will make it your duty to service the object of your affection. You care very deeply about the satisfaction of your partner— far more than you care about your own. As stated earlier, you don’t mind finishing up solo as long as your partner is satisfied. You will find every nook and cranny, every deep desire, every love spot that your partner has, because you will analyze their body with astute detail. You will break your partner’s sexual language down and adapt it to be your own, because after all, you are a mutable sign. As well as being an earth sign, you do have a very deep sensual nature to you. Although you can come across as quite guarded with new partners, once you blossom, you really enjoy heavy petting and physical touch. You can spend so much time in your head and alone with your thoughts in other aspects of your life, you may find it very powerful to have a partner that literally grounds you and brings you back to planet Earth by holding you in their arms. Again, after you’ve bent over backwards (pun intended) to please your partner, you, more than any other sign, except maybe Leo, really needs to be acknowledged and celebrated for your hard work. You don’t take kindly to being undervalued or under appreciated when it comes to your romantic relationships in this context.

Believe it or not, this placement can actually be quite kinky! Why? Because of the influence of Mercury again. As stated before, you want to learn your partner’s as well as you possibly can to make sure you are seen as perfect in their eyes– sooooo, that means you’ll have some exploring to do. Mercury is such a curious planet, that it may not be kinky for the sensual pleasures of it all, but it will be interested in testing out sex & kinks for “research purposes”. This can give you a sort of detached feeling when it comes to sex, which may or may not work in your favor– you’re able to disassociate in a way that makes sex almost an out of body experience…it may take you some time to actually feel pleasure from sex. You are so focused on the other and pleasing your partner, you can forget that sex is supposed to be a two way street! I just want to reiterate, that this placement is so mutable, that you may find yourself pretty ambivalent towards sex at different times in your life. You’re kind of like “eh”. But there is hope, when you find a partner that lights your fire– you will find yourself wanting sex like a child wants candy! There is plenty of potential here for a beautifully active and engaging sex life– it just may take more time to develop than others.

Learn your own kinks! Have fun! Explore the more sensual side of life for yourself!

Anyone who is able to win you over (which is NOT an easy feat by any means) will be able to revel in the fact that you are such a wonderful lover! But don’t forget, sex is not a test that you can get an A + in, it’s supposed to be the culmination and celebration of it all!

Mars in Leo or Mars in the 5th House

“She may be the queen of hearts, but I’m the queen of your body parts” - Cockiness, Rihanna

If you have Mars in Leo or Mars in the 5th House, you are Britney Spears, all eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus, bay-bee. You LOVE to put on a show. Your sexual language can make love-making a spectacle! You’re over the top, you’re loud, you roar. You LOVE LOVE LOVE the attention. So much so, you may not even need sex to fulfill that internal desire for you. Huh? What do I mean? I mean, you may be satisfied using your creative gifts for sexual gratification. Chances are with this placement, you are highly creative and charismatic. You find sensual pleasure in being able to share your creative gifts with other people. Haven’t you heard of entertainers saying they had so much fun on stage, it was orgasmic? That’s where you come in.

Ironically, I don’t naturally find this placement to be the most sexual. Don’t get me wrong, you are DOWN DIGGITY for a good time, but you really use sex as an ego booster. You may even be quite lazy in the bedroom. You could easily live by the code “my present is my presence” and be a dazzling pillow princess. This isn’t a bad thing, and it definitely doesn’t have to be the case all the time! When you’re turned on, you’re turned on, but when you’re just casually engaging in sex, or are in a long-term commitment, you may feel like sex is something that is owed to you. Not in a weird entitled way, but more like a Queen sitting on a chaise lounge being fed grapes– like, “duh, you should have sex with me, I’m beautiful”, type energy. This, if you haven’t been able to guess already, can lead to a selfish attitude in the love-making department. You must remember that sometimes, your partner wants to be catered to as well. That being said, you won’t shy away from Valentine’s Day. You are the type to go all out! You’ll put on the lingerie. You’ll lay out the rose petals on the bed. You’ll pay extra for that honeymoon suite. OR, you will expect your partner to do all of this without you asking. You treat holidays and sex as if it’s a royal affair.

Due to your standards being so high, I cannot express to you enough that you may really put all your sexual energy into your creative pursuits until you find a lover of high-value and high sex drive. You love and somewhat need to feel desired in order to break down your walls. You don’t play hard to get– you ARE hard to get, so this may leave you with extended periods of non-sexual activities. You are more than willing to give up sexual pleasure for your own personal pursuits– in fact, you are more likely to do that if you have specific career goals.

You may be a tad bit surprised at my interpretation of Mars in Leo, perhaps you were assuming it would be a bit spicier, but I challenge you to look at your ruler, the Sun (yes, the actual burning ball of fire in the sky) . Not literally…well, you can, but make sure you wear sun-glasses. But in all seriousness, the Sun shines alone. The Sun is too hot to let anything near it, and it carries such a gravitational pull, that things simply orbit around it, but can never get too close. With Mars in Leo/5th House, you may find yourself in this position when it comes to your sexual nature. You attract a lot of people towards you, but they are unable to get too close, for fear they will burn up in your presence. Or, you shine so bright, you are forced to do it alone. Being the Sun and the center of the Universe is a hard job, but ultimately an isolating job. Your being, your creative gifts, your star power and the way you shine can cast such a shadow on those who dare come near you. It really can be one of the most challenging placements because you probably won’t understand why people can’t/don’t come near you. Again, you’re just soooo great, people can have an overwhelming and unrealistic ideal of what it will take to make you happy. It’s a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s flattering, but on the other hand, you can suffer from being put so high up on a pedal stool that you never asked for!

One tip for you, is to keep your hair beautiful and lushes! People will be attracted to your wild side and want to bring that out of you. You can either really love having your hair pulled or be turned off by it because you spend so much time making it look perfect. Either way, your hair may be an essential part of foreplay for you and something that suitors may find undeniably sexy.

As long as you are mindful to share the spotlight from time to time and not always prioritizing your needs & your desires, you can be a remarkably loyal partner. Fierce is the word that comes to mind and you can be very fierce in the bedroom. (When you want to be.) You can outshine any of the competition. Most people truly can’t hold a candle to you when it comes to how committed you are in an intimate relationship. You are proud and you protect those that are around you and that you deem worthy. You have a royal air that surrounds you and it loudly and proudly screams `bow down bitches' when it's time to get down and dirty!

Mars in Cancer or Mars in the 4th House

“Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, you like your girls insane” Born to Die- Lana Del Rey

If you have Mars in Cancer or Mars in the 4th house, ironically, your sex language involves a knack of overwhelming emotional destruction. Dramatic, yes, yes, I know, but very true. Mars is VERY uncomfortable in the deep waters of Cancer/4H. Mars in the 4th House, in particular, is a naturally difficult placement because it sits in the House of happiness, as well as aspects the 7th House of partnership and the 11th House of friendship– making that native, uh, a little difficult to deal with. Why? Because your emotions can be so erratic and illogical, it can be difficult for people to understand what you want. Heck, you probably don’t understand what you want most of the time. I promise I’ll get to the good stuff, but keep in mind that this Mars placement is in detriment! (It’s exalted in Capricorn, the opposite sign.) So when it comes to your sexual language, you value such a deeply emotional commitment from your partner, you could constantly try to test them by pushing their emotional boundaries.

There is a mixture of pleasure and pain. You love an emotional outburst– this can be good and sexy, or bad and scary. Emotionally bonding make-up sex, is your cup of tea…ESPECIALLY if you are the one who caused the “break-up” in the first place. You truly enjoy engaging with your partner in a loving way, when you can, but because Mars is so unstable here, it can be hard for you to maintain emotional consistency within long-term relationships. You can find that your passions wax and wane for your partner. Sometimes, you just want to run into their arms and kiss them in the pouring rain, other times, you want them to LEAVE YOU DAFUQ ALONE. This can be quite jarring to your intimate partners, but also to yourself. I recommend embracing this quality and being as honest as possible! Instead of literally creating a sh*t storm in order to be left alone, just communicate to your partner that you need a little space from time to time. But also be willing to give your partner that same courtesy and grace if they ask for the same.

You can feel a need to wrap yourself up in your partner's desires. It may come from a genuine place, but because Mars is an aggressive planet, you may be quite aggressive in how you demonstrate your love to your partner because your deepest desire is to be able to emotionally control them. This can manifest in an extremely emotionally manipulative way through passive aggressiveness and just causing overall uneasiness within your dynamics and partnerships. One of the lovely sides about this particular placement, is when you mature, you can have an extremely high emotional I.Q. Because you are naturally very sensitive to your surroundings, you can literally sense the emotional and physical needs of your partner without them having to say a word. You can be so emotionally intune with your lovers, it can feel like telepathy if they need anything from you. You just know, y’know?

In the bedroom, you can go from one extreme to another. Sometimes you want to be dominant, and sometimes you want to be dominated. It is important for your lovers to be able to ride your waves and learn what is needed from them at any given moment. Again, Mars is all about conquest. So when Mars is in the 4H in particular, you want to be able to be the leader in your home, but you also want someone who can take the reins when necessary. Again, this can be a difficult balance to strike within your sexual relationships because people may not understand the method behind the madness, typically because there really isn’t a method…it’s just kind of madness AND THAT’S OKAY!

Because Mars is so uncomfortable here, it is imperative for you to be able to channel your energy in creative ways or you can fall victim to your own emotional tirades. You want a clear line of communication with anyone you are interested with and they absolutely need to have some emotional intelligence or else they will drown in your water. You don’t want to suffocate your lovers with so much emotional intensity, that you both are unable to remain somewhat grounded in the chaos. You of all people understand just how powerful emotions and sex can be together, so be careful to use it wisely!!! When done right, you can have anyone wrapped around your finger.

Mars in Gemini or Mars in the 3rd House

“Talk is cheap my darling, when you’re feeling right at home. I wanna make you move with confidence. I want to be with you alone” Talk is Cheap by Chet Faker

If you have Mars in Gemini or Mars in the 3rd House, then you are all about an intellectual connection when it comes to your sexual language. You want to catch viiibbbeezzz. You want to be razzle-dazzled with the lingo. You want someone hip, cool, in the know…because, well, you’re hip, cool & in the know, y’know? It’s only fitting that your partner be the same. You, of all placements, may truly crave “your other half”. And I know, I know, we live in a world now, where people are saying “you are a whole person and you’re looking for another whole person yadayadayada…”, but you’re a TWIN. You want to be able to connect with someone as if you share the same brain, the same thoughts, the same…everything. This isn’t to say that you’re not sexual…you just enjoy mental jousting for foreplay. Think of how beautiful the dance between two evenly matched fencing partners is– the ebb and flow of tension – playing both parts of the aggressor and the defender– gliding almost effortlessly with a weapon in hand. It’s like the tango…but with swords. That’s how you envision your love. Beautiful art, yet dangerous. You may not be the most sensual lover at first, but in time you will certainly warm up. Why? Because at the very least, you are a curious partner! You. Want. To. Explore. You may be the type of lover to want to try almost anything once. You want to be surprised. You don’t want your bedroom to be boring. You resent repetitiveness and you welcome new experiences. You may even fall into the “switch my wig, make ‘em feel like he cheating” category. You like to switch up your look, your style…sexual positions (lol). This can even translate into role play! (Especially teacher/student).

I cannot express to you enough how much learning from your partner turns you on. You love asking questions & consider getting to know someone a conquest. The more difficult the puzzle, the more you yearn to solve it and this type of stimulation oozes over into your sexual pleasure. You’re curious to know what your lover’s love. You can have an objective perception of sex, because you aren’t the most naturally emotional person, so you can look at the love making process as getting to know every nook and cranny of a partner’s body– learning what makes them tick & “ick”. You become more emotionally open with a partner, the more confident that you are that you know them. You like learning, but you don’t like unpleasant surprises. This may be counter intuitive, but I find that after you go through your “lemme try any & everything era”, you will genuinely enjoy one partner. It will make you feel secure and like you have that missing piece in life. You don’t come across as the most committal type, but when you do commit, you commit fr fr, you just need a certain level of freedom in life to continue to expand your horizons far past the mundane in life.

Another element you may add to your sexual reservoir is……drugs. “DON’T DO DRUGS, KIDS & STAY IN SCHOOL”...alright, there is my disclaimer. Now back to what I was saying, you may be curious to try mind-expanding drugs & smex. Because you can be so cerebral, drugs like ecstacy can help you actually feel your body. The tingle will start from your subconscious mind, and venture into your conscious body, possibly making love-making a more pleasurable experience. If this doesn’t interest you, don’t worry, no pressure! Just making a note that this placement is more likely to think outside of the box when it comes to making their sex lives thrilling and exciting! Not saying that vanilla sex is boring…just saying in general. You do you!

Overall, this is a curious placement. It’s a fun placement, but it can be an extremely flighty placement in the beginning. Don’t let your fear of getting stuck, stop you from finding a true partner that you can really see the world with. You can find that “other half”, that “twin soul” that really knows how to light a fire in you and warm your cold cold cold gemini heart. In your moments of passion, you will prefer to keep things fun and light. Only when someone truly captures your mind, can they capture your body and soul! SEXYYYYYY!!!!

Mars in Taurus or Mars in the 2nd House

“People stop to ask me, how do you please your man? Take it from the black sheep baby, any way I can. Sometimes it’s with fire and sometimes, with ice…Just don’t get it twisted, his body’s gunna pay the price.”

- Rock My Boy’s Body by Joseph Stephens

If you have Mars in Taurus or Mars in the 2nd House your sexual language is about sensuality, sexuality, & seduction. You believe in making love an all encompassing experience and you will stop at nothing to make sure your partners have an all exclusive pass to your BO-DAY. IF it is earned. Because Taurus is naturally slow moving energy, you may be slow to open up. As I’ve studied astrology for years now…I’ve come to realize that Taurus energy is just as private and cautious and it’s opposite sign, Scorpio. If you have this placement, you feel the need to study your lovers and you wait and wait and wait and wait and wait before you make your move. But if you are able to wrap them in your warm embrace…you won’t want to let go and they won’t want you to either.

Like Leo, when it comes to your sexual language, you believe in putting on a show. But your show is subtle, quaint and slow burning. You will have the candles burning, the scented lotion and fresh out the shower smell, you will have the most luxurious sheets on the most comfortable mattress. You don’t believe in cutting corners when it comes to your comfort and whoever is lucky enough to wind up in your bed, simply gets to enjoy how you live your life. I could bet you have an impeccable taste in music and truly know how to set the tone when it comes to seduction. As stated before, you are able to create a world of pure pleasure for those you love and make them spell-bound to you, because chances are, they haven’t been able to match with a sexual partner who cares so much about the details of ALL 6 senses. (I’m including intuition because, y’know, I’m a tarot and an astrology girlie.) For example, I dated this guy with heavy taurus placements a few years ago. I very much remember and very much miss this awesome TV room that he made for himself. Instead of having a regular degular couch, he had a couch that was also a bed. It wasn’t a couch that converted into a bed….it was just a couch that had a bed in it…and massive 70 inch television mounted on the wall. When I TELL you, I wanted to marry that man because….UGH!!! I was so comfortable! I could melt into the floor when I was with him. And I have YET to be with anyone who has a room set up quite like that. The feeling has stayed with me long after we have been together. THAT is what I mean by the power of Mars in Taurus. It lingers when you’re done!

On the other side, you of all signs, can be extremely jealous and possessive over your sexual partners. You DO NOT LIKE TO SHARE. AT. ALL. The 2nd House is all about owning and possessions and you may take this mindset with you into your romantic relationships. To the right person and in a healthy way, this can be enduring and make your partner feel safe and secure in your presence. In turn, you also want to know that your partner is crazy about you and cares deeply about your well-being. Again, in a healthy dynamic, a little jealousy and possessivness isn’t bad. It can show that someone does have an interest in you and takes pride in the fact that they are able to claim you as their own. This is just something to be mindful of in this placement, because if underdeveloped, it can lead to issues of selfishness & strong resistance to allow your partner’s freedom. Of course this can bleed over into the bedroom as well. You don’t want to get so focused on your own comfort that you end up putting your partner into a routine that they no longer enjoy. Your favorite position may not be their favorite positive. It can feel like eating lobster every single day. Like, yeah, Lobster is great day 1, maybe even day 2, but by day 5….yuck. Depending on other placements in your chart, you may attract partners who are very much like you, in the sense they prefer routine, OR you may attract partners who are so wild and out of the box, it forces you out of your comfort zone. All I can do is say embrace whatever floats your boat.

There is no doubt that you are one of the most sexual, sensual and passionate lovers of the zodiac. Your innate knowledge of pleasure makes you an expert in the bedroom and you can be hard to beat. Although it may take you a while to warm up, either physically or emotionally, you eventually show your partners that it is absolutely worth the wait! Because you tend to be safe and secure in yourself (the 2nd house rules self esteem) you share that safety and extend your protection to those you love the most. Your sexual language is unforgettable. You know how to love someone head to toe! WOOOOO!!!

Mars in Aries or Mars in the 1st House

“Dollhouse, dressed up, perfect messed up, Torture me to sleep, paint the air I breathe. Fishbowl, chokehold, dirty water, I’m cold. Dirty as can be, have your way with me.” Dollhouse (with Lily Rose Depp) by The Weeknd

If you have Mars in Aries or Mars in the 1st House, your sexual language is intense & powerful. You have a way of pulling people into your orbit just by being your unapologetic self! The force is with you! Best believe! And people feel it. You get what you want and you want what you get and you have a way of luring in your prospective sexual partner by projecting your lust onto them– so much so they feel it when they walk by you. Much like your sister, the Mars ruled Scorpio, there is a carnal desire that surrounds you. It’s magnetic. It’s magnificent. And it’s very fleeting.

When it comes to your bedroom pleasures, you can be a pioneer of the “Wham! Bam! Thank you ma’am or…sir” (not as cute of a rhyme) mindset. You may have a habit of treating your lovers like conquest– wanting to overpower them and wrap them up in your passionate fantasies. You deeply enjoy power play in your sex life. Yes, you could easily be the dominant one in your relationships, BUT you could also seek refuge in being submissive to your partner. How? I know it seems contradictory. But chances are, with this placement (unless it’s in a water sign in your first house) you are more than likely the boss and the leader in your everyday life…so when it comes to sex, you may want to just “relax” and let your partner do all the hard work for once. If that’s the case, you may be a bit of a brat in the bedroom because you still like to challenge your partner for shizz & giggles, but you are certainly fun and definitely unforgettable.

Your sex language is raw and real. You don’t like to hold back your passion and you appreciate a partner who can match your enthusiasm in the bedroom. You love the runner chaser dynamic, and again, you can easily play both parts. You are strong and competitive and don’t like to lose the interest of your lovers, even though you can get bored pretty easily. You may prefer quickies over long drawn up love sessions, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like to indulge your sinuses from time to time– you’re just not one of the most lovey dovey of the zodiac and prefer loud, wild, hot, steamy sex opposed to soft caresses and whispers of sweet nothings. You may also be a person who uses sexy time to advance a certain agenda. You could use sex as a tool of manipulation to get what you want. That may seem extreme, but think about a stripper using her sensuality as a means to make money so she can pay her way through law school. THAT’S what I mean. Because you may not be so shy about your sex appeal, if used correctly, it can be your weapon of choice when it comes to getting what you want from someone.

Passion matters to you more than most. You would prefer a risky lover than a predictable one. You also may be a fan of the ole’ break up to make-up trope. Make-up sex is always better. And you don’t mind starting a fight in the streets, simply to uh…you know…end it….in the sheets…..if you catch my drift. You aren’t one for subtleties. You are probably one of the most straightforward and upfront people in the world and you may play shy, but once you allow a person to get to know you, you don’t hold anything back. Because you are a cardinal energy, you always have a childlike flair to you! You keep things interesting and youthful. You’re not afraid to cross boundaries and push the limits of yourself & your partner in the midst of a sexual act. You really may think that sex is something that can be “won”. You want to be the best. You want to be the one that lovers can’t get enough of. You don’t appreciate being compared to others and honestly hear partners talking about their past as if it was some sort of challenge. You definitely have a jealous and possessive streak, but like I always say, when this is a healed energy it can be enduring to the right partner. As long as it’s not obsessive and unhealthy, you can provide comfort to your lovers that you are there for them and only them. You expect loyalty in return, of course, but you don’t mind protecting and defending what you see as your own. Your love is real. Your love is honest. Your love is young and wild and free!

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Post war/coma comic about Gai struggling with his recovery

Since tumblr hates long form comics, I have to split this into 2 bc its 36 images. This is the first part, part 2 i'll either do as a reblog or a separate post right after this, stay tuned! Links to support me in pinned post <3

tw: s*icidal thoughts, injury, a little blood

Bisuke: Gai's Back!

Gai: GRAAH!

Kks: Im home Gai: Welcome back Kks: [wheels rolling] Hey,

Kks: Ga-!? Gai: Im fine. The tile is cool on my face. Kks: Wanna go lay down in bed? Gai: I am so /sick/ of lying down. Kks: Ok. What do you want for supper?

Gai: You're not going to comment? Kks: I already know what happened. You overdid it again. I should be able to keep up with chores, kakashi. Kks: You can. Just don' bull through it all in one go. Do you want to end up in the hospital again? Gai: Please don't. Kks: I know sitting still is hard for you, and "too much" is in your DNA, but you have to take this slow so you don't exacerbate your injuries, Gai. You went from hyper-aware to pretending your body limits dont exist. Gai: Like you haven't done the same.

Gai: You've proved your point. Kks: It's not about that. And you've dragged me to bed and out of bed repeatedly when I needed it. You were burning alive from the inside. Tsunade told you your immune system is out of whack. You need to take it easy. /I/ know you're capable, but are you trying to prove to /yourself/ you are? Gai: You want me to admit my embarrassment? Kks: If something serioud happens, You'll be even more embarrassed then

Gai: How could you possibly know how I FEEL?! How could you EVER KNOW HOW I FEEL?! Kks: I DON'T! But I've /been/ the one ouking and sobbing on your bathroom floor because I couldn't take living anymore! And I don't want that for YOU!

Kks: I'm sorry, Gai. Gai: I'm sorry

Kks: I can't stand knowing you're in pain, and I can't get you help. If there was a way, I'd do anything. Gai: You do so much to help me already.... And I yelled at you Kks: I've screamed at you so much, that was pretty tame. I wish I was like you with things like this. Not great with what to say...... But I can listen.

Gai: I hate feeling so weak. I'm tired all the time, in constant pain, I can't even walk-..... I can tell tenten and the boys worry despite my efforts to appear positive. Kks: They're just not sure how to react. They know you hate being babied, but don't want to push you into hurting yourself. You hate being told you can't do something. They love you. You get stronger everyday, everyone is cheering you on.

Gai: I know it's irrational, but... I feel like you gave up the Hokage position to take care of me. Kks: Haa!? I'm grateful if anything. I'd be retired too if I could. That'd be amazing. I'm dreading just helping Tsunade but as long as you're by my side, I'll be fine. We're still equals, rivals, friends, partners

Gai: Even if I can't- Kks: /Always/ wil be, dickhead. Gai: You worry about me hurting myself? Kks: I know you think about it

Kks: We're the same in that regard Gai: I would never act on this, please believe me, these thoughts are rare........... Kks: It's ok, Gai. Gai: Sometimes I think i should have just died. I feel so out of place on the streets I used to feel so at home at. I never asked to live. I didn't plan to. I just don't know how to-...

Kks: I understand that. Though, dying didn't feel any better. Gai: I know I didn't fully pass like you did. I didn't see papa. Just for a moment, I wish I could have seen him.

Kks: As much as I'm sure he wants to see you again, It's too soon. Dai'd slap the shit out of you for wanting to waste your youth just to see him. Gai: [chuckle] probably. Kks: I have those thoughts less and less now, but they're still there. "why am I the one who survives?" "Burden" "Gai will come to his senses eventually"

Gai: FALSE!! None of my grief is with you! I love living here with you! My love for you only burns hotter each day! You're so lovely inside and out! Kks: Maa What did I do to deserve such praise from teh mouth of the hottest man in Konoha?? Gai: YOU STILL THINK I'M HOT?! Kks: YOU-! [CACKLE]

Kks: Your bad taste is the only reason I had a chance before someone snatched you up. Gai: The worst. Kks: Thought we'd irritate eachother, but it's been pretty smooth. Even though you still get played by the dogs. Gai: You really wanna throw those stones?

Gai: They play you just as easily. don't lie. Kks: My point is, whatever you need from me, you have it. No questions asked. Even if you yell and scream, i can take it. You held me together when I was unraveling, and I'll never forget it. Didn't trust anyone else to see me like that. Broken

Gai: I never saw you as that. Kks: I'll never see you as that

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 10.4k tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: eek series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

i mean, im not that surprised he’s sexy as hell

that’s actually crazy

imagine hiding your son for five years 😶😶 how can you be ashamed of that

doesn’t he literally have a girlfriend?? himari nakamura??

        ↳ yep for almost two years now

       ↳ wonder how she’s holding up i’d be pissed, unless she knew 

rich people are always shady as fuck

You don’t even know how many comments you’ve read. Staying up practically the entire night, busying yourself with the endless scrolling of people who have not a single clue of how your life actually is. Meddling in your business and acting like the shit they’re spouting on the internet is okay. 

They ranged from positive (sort of) to extremely personal and negative. 

i bet she just did it for the child support 

i wonder if he’s actually the dad, women like that lie and lie just cuz the dad is rich as fuck

i feel so bad for that boy

Bad? Why would they feel bad for him? You’ve given everything you can and then some to ensure Koji’s safety and innocence. You’ve never put him in harm’s way, difficult situations, hit him, nothing. Of course you’ve raised your voice, but every parent does. Why are these reasons suddenly acting like they know a fucking thing or two? This is insane. 

The only positive ones you see are praising your son for how cute he is, how much he looks like Satoru, and how he’ll probably get everything he wants. That’s not true, you’re not going to spoil your kid and you’re sure as hell not letting Satoru do it either; he’s humble, that’s how you want him to be. Still, you do feel uneasy at strangers on the internet for talking about your baby like this, in reference to a photo none of you knew was taken. 

And you still don’t know who took it. 

That’s what infuriates you the most. Because who in their right mind would do that? Who thinks they’re that fucking entitled to chime in on your personal business—your family. 

When you find them, you swear on everything you’re punching them. 

Your head hangs low, the hood of your sweatshirt pulled tight, shielding your face as you step into the café. You keep your gaze down, avoiding the eyes of the baristas and patrons scattered around. The familiar hum of the espresso machine feels deafening today.

Maybe no one will notice. Maybe no one cares.

But you know better.

That damn image, plastered across every TV screen and newsfeed yesterday, is still burned into your mind. Why do people even care this much? You’re beyond pissed off. Who in their right mind thinks they have the right to invade your personal life like that? To turn your family into fodder for the public?

Maybe no one will say anything. Who even watched the news anyway? 

More people than you think, actually. You keep moving, but Hana has other plans.

“Y/N!” Her voice cuts through the noise like a whip, and before you can react, she grabs your forearm, dragging you into the storage room in the back.

“Hey, what the—” you start to protest, wincing as her grip tightens, but she doesn’t care. She whirls around to face you, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

“What the hell is going on?!” she demands, gesturing wildly with her hands. “You were on the news yesterday!”

Your stomach churns at the reminder, and your jaw clenches tightly. You pull your hood down, resigning yourself to the conversation you were hoping to avoid. “I know that already,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest.

“Koji’s father is multi-billionaire Satoru Gojo?!” Her voice rises in pitch, and she looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Is that for real? You’ve been hiding this?!”

You take a deep breath, counting to three in your head. “Yes, Hana. It’s real. Koji’s father is Satoru Gojo. Can we not do this right now?”

But Hana doesn’t back down, her wide eyes searching your face for answers. “Are you kidding me? Of course we’re doing this right now! You’ve been sitting on this—” she throws her hands up, “—while the rest of us thought you were just, like, a regular single mom? What the hell, Y/N?”

“Because it’s none of anyone’s business!” you hiss, your voice rising then lowering, not wanting anyone else to overhear. “Do you think I wanted this to come out? Do you think I wanted his world to invade mine?”

Hana softens slightly, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. “Okay, fair. But you should’ve told me, at least. I mean, I’m your friend.”

“I didn’t tell anyone for a reason and I don’t owe anyone anything,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “And now it’s everywhere. Do you know how terrifying that is? For me? For Koji?”

Hana sighs, leaning back against the wall. “Okay, okay. I get it. This whole thing’s a mess. But what are you going to do now? I mean, the story’s out. People are gonna talk, Y/N. A lot. Especially if it involves a man like him.”

You swallow hard, the weight of her words settling heavily on your shoulders. “I don’t know,” you admit quietly, your voice trembling. “I just want to protect my son.”

Hana nods, her expression softening further. “We’ll figure it out. But you’re gonna need a plan. And.”

“Hana, I—“ you’re really trying not to snap at her, really. But she’s pushing every button you have right now and your patience is running extremely low. Don’t snap, she’s just worried.  “I know what to do, thank you. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t meddle in my business too. We’re friends, yes, but understand right now that I’m going through a lot of shit and don’t need to be told what to do and when to do it. So get off my back.”

Hana blinks, a little caught off guard by your sudden announcement. Her mouth slightly agape, clearly not having expected your outburst. For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, her expression shifting between hurt and something close to understanding. She straightens, her arms falling from where they’d been crossed over her chest. “Y/N, I wasn’t trying to—” she begins, her voice softer now, but you cut her off.

“I know,” you say, your voice quieter but still firm. “I know you’re trying to help, Hana. And I’m grateful, I am. But right now, I need to handle this on my own. I need space. Can you give me that?”

She nods slowly, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay,” she says after a moment. “I get it. I’ll back off. Just—if you need anything, anything at all, I’m here. You know that, right?”

You exhale, some of the tension easing from your shoulders. “Yeah. I know.”

Hana offers you a small, tentative smile before stepping aside, giving you the room you so desperately need. As she moves to leave, she hesitates at the curtains, glancing back at you. “For what it’s worth, Y/N…I think you’re handling this a lot better than you think you are.”

You don’t respond, just nod in acknowledgment, and she disappears back into the front of the café. Alone in the small back room, you lean against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment to gather your thoughts.

Better than I think, huh? You shake your head, rubbing at your temples. It doesn’t feel that way. 

You’d be lying to yourself if you said this probably won’t be that bad; not a big deal. But hell, it was huge. You hate unnecessary attention, especially attention from hundreds, if not thousands of random strangers. You’re recalling the incident from earlier when you dropped Koji off at school. Mr. Ito stopping you once more and confessing his surprise to you. In his words, “I didn’t know Koji had such an…esteemed father.”

You held back a slew of insults, keeping it classy, as always. But as the days go on and the more shit that seems to be happening to you, you’re getting this close to breaking that. It’s the way he, everyone else, and even Hana seems so…shocked. The lingering glances from other parents at drop-off, the whispers in the hallways. It’s the way their surprise feels so…palpable. You get it, in a way. Satoru Gojo is larger than life—powerful, wealthy, and untouchable in a way most people only dream of. But still, the shock in their eyes stings more than it should. Did they think you weren’t of caliber to bag a man like Satoru? Did they think a man like that wouldn’t even dream of having a child with a woman like you? It feels a tad bit insulting. Actually, scratch that—it feels like a slap in the face.

The implications gnaw at you, poking at insecurities you’d rather not acknowledge. This is exactly why you hate social media. You’re already growing too conscious of the comments people are making—caring too much and it was just revealed. And the worst part? You can’t even fully blame them. Satoru’s world is one you’ve never truly belonged to. You’re not the glossy, magazine-cover type, and you don’t have the pedigree or connections his circle would expect. But that doesn’t mean you’re less than, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean Koji is any less precious because of it.

 You sigh, rubbing at your temples. If only these people could see you for who you truly are—if they could see the strength it takes to raise a child on your own, to hold your head high even when the world tries to tear you down. But no, all they see is the scandal and the drama, their curiosity morphing into judgment. Sure, you made mistakes—big and bad ones. But you’re doing all this in order to make up for those mistakes. And sure, Satoru doesn’t 100% forgive you—you’re not sure he ever will—but you don’t think he would agree with these kinds of comments being made. Right? 

You huff. Let them talk, you think bitterly, though the tightness in your chest betrays the confidence you’re trying to muster. Let them all talk, they know nothing. 

The minutes feel like hours. Unsure of how long you’ve exactly been here. Equally nervous about looking at your phone to check.

“Oh my god, look. It’s her.”

“Shhh! She’ll hear you.”

“I wonder if she’ll give us pointers.”

“You’re insane.”

The conversation doesn’t fly over your head. t’s like they want you to hear, voices loud enough to penetrate the usual clatter of the café. You swear, they’re practically aiming their words right at you. Your grip tightens around the rag in your hand, knuckles going white as you scrub the already spotless table. The motion is a little too aggressive, the poor table bearing the brunt of your simmering frustration. Your jaw clenches, brows knitting together as you try—desperately—to keep your temper in check. Jaw clenching and brows knitting together, you’re counting down to ten and back.

One…two…three… you recite in your head, attempting to steady your breath. It’s an old habit—one you learned a while back from you’re therapist, one you’ve relied on in situations like this, but today it feels like it’s barely working. Four…five…six.

You glance up, just for a second, and immediately regret it. The group of girls sits near the window, leaning into each other as they giggle, their eyes darting your way. They’re not even trying to hide it anymore. One of them, a blonde with an annoyingly perfect smile, nudges her friend and whispers something, sending the others into another fit of laughter. Your fingers flex around the rag, itching to throw it across the room. Breathe, you remind yourself. Just breathe. They’re not worth it. But it’s hard to ignore the knot tightening in your chest, the sting of humiliation creeping in despite your best efforts. Because you know exactly what they’re laughing about, what they’re whispering about. It’s not just idle curiosity—it’s judgment, plain and simple. And maybe, just maybe, if this were any other day, you’d let it roll off your back. But today? After everything that’s happened? After seeing your son’s face plastered on screens and hearing people dissect your life like it’s a soap opera? You toss the rag onto the table, standing up straighter as you look their way. They immediately quiet down, eyes widening like they’ve been caught red-handed.

“Can I help you?” you ask, voice calm but carrying just enough edge to make them squirm.

The blonde fidgets, her confidence faltering under your gaze. “Oh, um, no, we were just…”

“Enjoying your coffee?” you finish for her, forcing a tight smile. “Good. Let me know if you need anything else.” Without waiting for a response, you turn on your heel and walk behind the counter, the satisfaction of their stunned silence doing little to ease the weight in your chest. Nine…ten… You exhale slowly, trying to let it go, but the anger simmers just beneath the surface.

It’s going to be a long day.

—-

The walk back home with Koji feels like you never want to use your senses again. It feels like a marathon you never signed up for, every step heavier than the last. The pounding in your head has escalated into a full-blown migraine, the sharp pain clawing at the edges of your skull. You clench your teeth, trying to hold it together, willing the tears pricking at your eyes to stay put. Koji chatters beside you, his small hand in yours, his voice a muffled hum against the overwhelming throb in your head.

 So much has changed within just the span of a week and none of it feels good. You like change, but not like this. Not the kind of change that’s so spontaneous and out of nowhere that it makes you dread the littlest things. The kind of change where you feel like every way you turn, it’s a dead end. Every thought spiraling into another reminder of how much you’ve lost control, or of how much you never had it to begin with. The kind of change that you never fucking asked for in the first place. The kind of change where you feel like a ticking timebomb. A simple walk home feels like an obstacle course. The sound of Koji’s innocent laughter, once a balm to your soul, now feels like a weight pressing down on you, a reminder of how fragile your balance is.

This change doesn’t come with warnings or instructions. It doesn’t let you adjust, and doesn’t give you the chance to prepare. It just dumps its baggage on your doorstep and forces you to deal with it, whether you’re ready or not. And right now, you’re not.

The last thing you want to do is blow up on someone who doesn’t deserve it, especially your son. You glance down at him, his bright eyes scanning the world around him with that endless curiosity only a child can have. His tiny fingers grip yours with a trust that makes your chest ache. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand the storm brewing inside you. And he shouldn’t have to.

“Mommy, are you okay?” Koji’s voice is soft, his head tilted as he looks up at you with concern.

You force a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m fine, sweetheart,” you manage, squeezing his hand gently. “Just tired.” He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer, and resumes his animated recount of the day’s events. You let him talk, his voice a small distraction from the noise in your head. One step at a time, you tell yourself. One breath at a time. For him, if not for yourself.

You wonder to yourself how many more times you can continue repeating that phrase to yourself, like a broken record spinning endlessly in your mind. Shouldn’t you be allowed to do some things on your own? Something that isn’t tied to the constant grind of making sure Koji has everything he needs, of shielding him from a world that feels more hostile every day? Everything you do is for him—every decision, every sacrifice, every moment of biting your tongue when you want to scream. It’s all for him. 

But what about you?

The thought is bitter, curling in your chest like smoke. It feels selfish even to entertain it, but the exhaustion is suffocating. How long has it been since you’ve done something just because you wanted to? Since you’ve allowed yourself the luxury of thinking about what you need, instead of what everyone else expects of you? Is it selfish? Is this not how a good mother thinks?

The doubt gnaws at you, persistent and sharp. 

Not like you’d know the answer to that question. Your mother—a woman you rarely ever want to think about—never gave you the guidance for situations like this. You have no inspiration, nothing. You’re doing everything free-handed. She didn’t leave you with blueprints for moments like these, no voice in your head to tell you what’s right, what’s wrong, or even what’s okay. She was a void, an absence, and that absence shaped you more than you’d like to admit.

And now here you are, trying to be everything for your son that she wasn’t for you. But it feels like you’re fumbling in the dark, building something fragile with trembling hands. There’s no instruction manual for this, no map to follow. You’re doing everything on the first try, improvising as you go. Every decision feels like a gamble. Did you do enough today? Did you do too much? Did you make the right call, or are you setting him up for something you can’t even see coming? The uncertainty is exhausting.

You glance at Koji, his small hand still tucked safely in yours, his voice cutting through the haze of your thoughts. He’s so blissfully unaware of the turmoil raging inside you, and that’s how it should be. He deserves that innocence, that security. But the weight of always being the strong one, the reliable one, is starting to crush you. How much longer can I keep this up? The question whispers in your mind, and you hate it. You hate that you’re even asking it, hate that it makes you feel weak. But the truth is, you’re tired.

And you don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending that you’re not.

You focus on Koji again, his small frame silhouetted against the afternoon light of the day. He trusts you implicitly, and looks at you like you’re the answer to everything. And the weight of that trust makes you want to cry and scream in equal measure. How can I possibly live up to that?

They never said motherhood was easy. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. Maybe this is what being a mother really is—second-guessing everything, carrying the weight of your own past, and still showing up every day, trying your best. 

You don’t know if that’s enough. But it’s all you have.

It seems like you’re in for a surprise every second of the day.

Satoru, much to your own dismay and confusion, is perched against your apartment door; waiting for you again. Like a magnet, Koji runs into his lower half, hugging his father with all the strength his five-year-old body will allow. 

“Hey, little man. I’m happy to see you.” Satoru smiles wholeheartedly, patting Koji’s back with gentle ease.

“Hi, Papa! I missed you.” His voice is muffled by Satoru’s clothing.

The older man laughs, relishing in the moment for another second, before opening his light azures. His eyes look like they’re darting all around you, as if making sure you’re okay. Standing up, he shuffles his hands in his pockets.

“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you mutter, walking up closer. Arms crossing. 

He nods. “I know, I–I should’ve told you. But this was urgent and I knew you were busy at work.”

A hum is all you offer, unlocking your apartment door and stepping in. The semi-warmth envelops you like a worn blanket. Finally, in the comfort of my own home. Even if it is just for a little bit before you’re off again. 

“Call off his babysitter.”

You look back, watching him close your door and lock it. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m here.”

Koji runs off to his room, presumably to play with his toy collection. Leaving the two adults alone. Biting your lip, attempting to come up with something to say—or what to say first. Luckily, he beats you to it. “I want you two to spend the night at mine, don’t go to work. I’ll pay you whatever you miss out on. I know you saw the leak and I’m working on figuring out who the hell did it. But until then, I’m a little concerned for your guys’ safety, so stay at mine until we figure things out long-term.”

You stare at him, caught off guard by the resolute earnestness in his voice. The Satoru you know isn’t usually this serious, this concerned. It’s disarming—attractive, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. “This is my home, Satoru,” you finally say, your voice quiet but firm. “I can’t just up and leave because of a leak. And I can’t run every time something like this happens. That’s not a long-term solution either.”

“I get that,” he says, stepping closer. “But this isn’t just about you. It’s about Koji. Someone took that photo, and I don’t know who, or how, or what their intentions are. Until I do, I can’t take chances.”

“And I get that, but I can’t just—sleep at your place.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s just…weird.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he exhales out. “You think something’ll happen? It won’t. I'm doing this for Koji and you because I care. Not because reviving something that’s long-ended is my priority.” 

“It’s not about that,” you snap, your voice rising before you catch yourself. You close your eyes for a second, exhaling sharply, trying to rein in your frustration. “It’s just... complicated, Satoru. You showing up like this, offering to fix things with money, with solutions I didn’t ask for, for problems I never wanted—it’s overwhelming.”

He takes another step closer, his presence filling the small entryway. “You think I don’t understand that?” His voice softens but carries an edge of urgency. “Y/N, I’m not trying to make this harder for you. I know this is all... messy. But I can’t sit around and pretend I’m okay with you and Koji being here while someone out there is bold enough to invade your privacy like that. I’m trying to protect you. You can’t keep pushing me away like this, you said you wanted to make things better.”

“I know, but—”

“Then stop it. Stop arguing, complaining, whatever. You’re not going to keep me out of Koji’s life any longer, or yours. They already posted another damn picture of you today at work.”

What? You blink your eyes, widening them. You don’t even want to see the photo evidence, gulping down the weird lump that forms in your throat. What the fuck is going on with my life right now? You hesitate, biting your lip. His words chip away at your defenses, but the walls you’ve built don’t crumble that easily. “And what happens if we go to your place? What’s next? You swoop in, play hero, and then leave us when this blows over?”

His jaw tightens, the faint hurt flashing in his eyes almost imperceptible. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Isn’t it?” you counter, arms crossing tightly over your chest, a weak attempt to shield yourself from the weight of the conversation. “That’s what you always do, Satoru. You show up when it’s convenient for you, and when it’s not, you disappear.”

The words hang heavy in the air, stinging both of you. For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m not leaving you this time,” he says quietly, lifting his eyes back to yours. “Not until I know you two are safe. I’m not running, Y/N. Not from this. But you have to stop trying to keep me at arm's length, I’m trying my best to help.” His eyes lock onto yours, pleading yet determined. You hate how convincing he can be when he’s like this. How he makes you question your own resolve. “Please,” he adds, his voice dropping. “Just for a little while.”

The conviction in his voice is startling, and it makes something inside you waver. You’re tired, too tired to keep arguing, too tired to keep carrying everything on your shoulders. It’s true, you’re feeling yourself pushback on him. He deserves this—time with Koji, protecting him, and more. It’s just so hard breaking from the fragile bubble you built for your son and you. Satoru’s presence is like a sharp knife, waiting to just poke through it with ease, to get to his family.“Fine,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “But just for tonight. Koji and I will come to your place for tonight.”

Relief washes over his features, but he doesn’t smile. He nods, stepping back to give you space. “That’s all I’m asking.”

As you turn away to gather what you need for the night, you catch a glimpse of Koji peeking out from his room, his eyes wide with curiosity. You put on a smile for his sake, but deep down, you can’t shake the unease settling in your chest. This isn’t just about staying at Satoru’s place. It’s about what this means—what it could mean—and the part of you that still isn’t sure you’re ready to face it.

The inside of Satoru’s Mercedes is spacious, but asphyxiating. Koji in his car seat in the back, watching something on his tablet. This is the first time you’ve been in the car with Satoru since way long ago. It’s nostalgia, but sickening at the same time. You remember how he would place his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. Or how he likes to rest his hand on the gearstick, or his elbow on the middle console. 

Your skin prickles with goosebumps when he brushes against your arm as he reaches for the temperature controls, adjusting the heat. It’s a small, thoughtless gesture, but it sends an involuntary jolt through you. You glance out the window, pretending to admire the blurred city lights instead of acknowledging the memories flooding back. The hum of the car engine fills the silence, an uncomfortable contrast to the weight of everything left unsaid. Koji giggles at something on his tablet in the backseat, his innocence a stark reminder of why you’re here and why you can’t let your emotions take over.

“You okay?” Satoru’s voice breaks the quiet, calm yet cautious.

“Fine,” you reply quickly, too quickly. You keep your eyes glued to the window, your arms crossed as if to shield yourself from the proximity.

He stops at a red light, leaning back in his sight. He’s a pro at side-eyeing you as you’re faced away. Seeing the way your hands ball into small fists. Nervous. Your foot is tapping on the floor. Thinking. And if he looks closer at your chest, he’ll notice how it’s rising up and down a little more quickly than normal. 

Oh. 

He clears his throat, looking forward as the light turns green. Focus on driving, focus on driving. He doesn’t push, but you can feel his gaze flickering toward you now and then, like he’s reading every shift in your posture, every flicker of hesitation. It’s infuriating how well he knows you, even now. You glance at Koji briefly before turning your gaze back to the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks as the car moves. The nostalgia you felt earlier morphs into a bitter taste in your mouth. You hate how easily Satoru slips into the role of a doting father, as if the years of his absence never happened.

You need to get a better hold of your jealousy. 

“You’re quiet,” Satoru says, breaking the silence.

“Just tired,” you reply curtly, not bothering to look at him.

He hums, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. “Long day, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “You could say that.”

His gaze flicks to you briefly before returning to the road. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. But I’m glad you’re coming with me. It’s the right thing to do.”

You let out a dry laugh, finally turning to face him. “The right thing to do? Since when have you ever cared about the right thing, Satoru?”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Then he exhales deeply, gripping the wheel a little tighter. “I care now. Now that you’ve granted me that option,” he says quietly.

You want to scoff, to throw his words back at him, but there’s something in his tone that makes you pause. Something raw, unguarded. The way he gets out those snark remarks angers you, but only further solidifies the weight of your actions, and the fact that things will never be the same. 

The rest of the drive is spent in silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. When the car finally pulls into the underground garage of his penthouse building, Koji’s excitement is palpable.

“Wow! This place is huge!” Koji exclaims, his eyes wide as he looks around.

Satoru chuckles, stepping out of the car and opening the back door to unbuckle Koji. “Wait till you see the view, buddy.”

You follow them, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. As you step into the elevator, you can’t help but feel like you’re being pulled back into a world you thought you’d left behind—one of complications and heartbreak. Satoru presses the button for his floor, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just for one night.”

You don’t respond, staring straight ahead as the elevator begins its ascent. But deep down, you know it’s never just one night with Satoru. 

“No running.”

“Sorry, Mama.”

You place Koji and your bags on one of the chairs in the kitchen, watching your son rush to his father’s living room. Satoru follows him, hands on his hips. “Hey buddy, bought some toys for you. Do you want to play with them? You like Spiderman, right?”

If possible, Koji’s eyes light up even more with excitement. Gasping and squealing, nodding his head furiously. “I love Spiderman! Mama threw me a Spiderman birthday last time.”

Satoru hums. “Wish I coulda seen that.”

You freeze at Satoru's words, your hand halfway to unpacking one of Koji’s bags. His tone is light, almost wistful, but it feels like a loaded statement—one that stings more than you’d like to admit. You glance over at him and Koji, your son practically bouncing on his toes as Satoru kneels to pull out a neatly wrapped box from a hidden cabinet. “Here you go,” Satoru says, handing it to Koji. “I think you’ll like what’s inside.”

Koji tears into the wrapping with glee, revealing a Spiderman action figure set. He gasps, clutching the box to his chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “Thank you, Papa! This is so cool!”

Your heart twists at how easily Koji has taken to calling him that. It’s like Satoru’s sudden presence is a gift he didn’t realize he’d been missing. And yet, for you, it’s a reminder of the years of absence—of the birthdays and milestones Satoru missed. “Please, don’t spoil him too much,” you mutter, finally unpacking Koji’s things and setting them on the counter.

Satoru looks over his shoulder, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s wrong with a little spoiling? He deserves it.”

You exhale sharply, not bothering to mask your irritation. “What he deserves is consistency.”

His smirk falters, standing back up to his full height and coming over to you. Keeping his voice level calm, in case Koji decides to listen in. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. 

Satoru narrows his eyes slightly, his expression unreadable as he watches you busy yourself with Koji’s things. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

You let out a humorless laugh, refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. Don’t read into it.”

His lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’t push further—not yet. Instead, he leans against the counter, folding his arms as he observes you. “Y/N, you can’t be the angry one in this situation. I thought you understood that.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Then what are you?”

“I’m just—” you let out a big breath, looking up at him once more. “I’m tired. Forgive me if I’m not overly happy right now.

Satoru’s gaze softens, his posture relaxing slightly, though the tension in the room lingers like a heavy fog. “I’m not trying to add onto that, I’m just trying to be here for my son.”

I know that. I don’t know why I’m snapping. All you can offer is a nod, reaching into your bag, and grabbing a change of clothes. “I…I’m gonna go shower, watch him please.”

Satoru nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before shifting to the living room where Koji is engrossed in his toys. “Of course. Take your time.”

You offer a small, tight-lipped smile before retreating down the hall, clutching the clothes in your hands like a lifeline. Once you’re inside the bathroom, the door clicks shut behind you, and the weight of everything crashes down. Leaning against the counter, you grip the edge tightly, your knuckles turning white as you take slow, measured breaths. The mirror reflects a version of yourself you hardly recognize—tired, frazzled, and barely holding it together. The faint hum of Koji’s laughter echoes down the hall, grounding you for a moment. At least he’s happy. That’s what matters.

The shower is a welcome escape. The hot water cascades over your skin, washing away the grime of the day and the lingering tension from your conversation with Satoru. You let your head fall forward, droplets sliding down your face, mingling with the tears you didn’t realize had started to fall. You didn’t mean to snap at him. He’s trying, you know that. But the past doesn’t let go so easily, and the overwhelming mix of emotions—anger, fear, hope—leaves you feeling unsteady. And you feel angry at yourself for letting your emotions slip through, getting the best of you. You’re surprised Satoru hasn’t been more outwardly rude to you, short, or even snappy. It seems like he’s taking this all better than you are, and once again, that bitter jealousy of yours is shining through. How he can just handle things so smoothly—at least that’s what it seems like. But he’s used to all this: the spotlight, public eye, attention. You just wish things could’ve been handled…differently. 

Everything feels like a domino effect, starting all with that dreaded day at the grocery store. How so much has changed. 

 By the time you step out, you feel a fraction lighter, though the knot in your chest remains. You towel off, change into your clean clothes, and take a moment to steel yourself before heading back into the fray.

When you return to the living room, you find Satoru sitting cross-legged on the floor with Koji, holding up a miniature Spiderman figure. Koji is giggling, animatedly explaining an intricate story about how Spiderman saves the day. Satoru glances up as you walk in, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Hey. We’re just working on a top-secret mission over here. No big deal.”

Koji looks up too, beaming. “Mama! Papa’s playing Spiderman with me! He’s really good at the voices.”

You can’t help the small smile that forms, even as your heart aches a little at the sight. “Sounds like you two are having fun.”

Satoru nods, his expression soft. “We’re a good team.”

You stand there for a moment, watching them, the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders once more. Maybe this is what Koji needs. Maybe this is what you need. But trusting him again…that’s the hardest part.

That night, eating dinner at Satoru’s long dining table, the same one where you faced his parents, it all feels strange, to say the least. The clinking of cutlery against porcelain plates echoes faintly in the vast dining room, filling the silence between the three of you. Koji hums to himself as he picks at his plate, occasionally glancing at his father to tell him some small details about his day or ask about the toys he’d gotten earlier. Satoru engages him with ease, his tone light and playful, but you can see the flickers of something deeper behind his smiles—guilt, maybe, or a desperate need to make up for lost time.

And then there’s you, sitting stiffly at the other end of the table, your appetite wavering as your mind keeps drifting back to the last time you sat here. That memory is sharp and vivid, like an old wound that hasn’t quite healed.

But Koji’s laughter brings you back down to Earth. Looking up from your plate of food to the sight before you. Father and son, son and father, family. They look so alike, you don’t think you can ever get over the blatant resemblance. Satoru’s genes are just very strong. You wish Koji could’ve inherited a few more things from you. You place a hand on your lower stomach, as if a physical touch will make the strange abundance of butterflies flying around in there to go away. 

It’s strange, this setup. Domestic in a way you never thought you’d experience with him again. But it’s also…nice. 

It feels whole, like this is how things should be. Would’ve been had you not held your tongue for so long. And you’re starting to think to yourself how much you like this sight. How it’s making you feel at home.

But this isn’t your home. However, you think you can pretend for just one night. 

“You’re not eating much,” Satoru says, pulling you out of your thoughts. His voice is casual, but there’s an undertone of concern.

Your eyes widen at him, realizing you’ve been caught staring and quickly looking back down. “I’m fine,” you say, forcing a small smile. “Just sleepy, I guess.”

“I bet,” he says, and while his tone is conversational, his gaze lingers on you, searching for something beneath your calm facade.

“Yeah,” you reply shortly, stabbing at a piece of vegetable on your plate. You don’t want to talk about your day or your worries or the mounting anxiety sitting heavy in your chest. Not here, not now.

Koji interrupts before Satoru can press further, his voice bright and full of excitement. “Papa, can we watch a movie after dinner? Mama too!”

Satoru grins, lightly pinching his cheekbone. “Of course, buddy. What movie are we watching?”

Koji claps his hands together, listing off a couple of titles before settling on one of his favorites. You manage another smile, this one a little more genuine, as you watch the way Satoru effortlessly makes Koji light up. For a moment, the tension eases, and you let yourself focus on Koji’s joy. Maybe this is enough for now. Maybe that’s all you need to get through the evening.

But as you glance at Satoru across the table, his eyes catching yours for a brief second, you’re reminded of how fragile this truce feels. Of how much history lies between you, threatening to resurface at any moment.

Koji picks Spiderman, of course. You’ve watched this movie at least a hundred times now, maybe more. You can practically recite the lines perfectly. The movie plays on, the familiar dialogue flowing like background noise to your swirling thoughts. You’ve seen this scene so many times—the hero’s triumphant swing through the city, the bad guy’s dramatic monologue, the moments of comic relief Koji always laughs at—but tonight, it feels different. There’s an added layer of tension sitting heavy between you and Satoru.

The living room feels unusually cozy, the dimmed lighting casting a warm glow over the space. Koji wiggles in his spot, clutching a Spiderman plush as he stares at the screen with unblinking eyes, thoroughly engrossed. You, on the other hand, are trying not to let your exhaustion bubble over. Koji sits between you two, Satoru’s arm over his little shoulders. Satoru’s arm rests casually behind Koji, but every so often, as he adjusts his position, his fingers graze your shoulder—a light, fleeting touch that feels far too deliberate to be accidental. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, but he seems entirely focused on the movie, his face relaxed, a small smirk tugging at his lips during one of Koji’s excited reactions. So, you ignore it. But you do shift slightly, creating just enough distance to break the contact. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

Koji laughs out loud at a particularly funny scene, leaning against Satoru’s side. “That’s so cool, Papa! I wanna do that someday!”

Satoru chuckles, ruffling Koji’s hair. “Maybe we’ll get you a Spiderman costume, and you can be the hero of the city.”

Koji beams at him, his excitement is contagious. For a brief moment, you allow yourself to appreciate this dynamic, the way Satoru fits so naturally into Koji’s world. You hate to admit it, but this is what Koji’s been missing—what you’ve been missing, too, in some small, buried way. Satoru’s hand once again brushes your shoulder during his next adjustment, that buried part of you is quickly overshadowed by the reminder of why this dynamic fell apart in the first place.

Luckily, Koji is already showered and dressed for bed in his matching red set. So as the movie progresses, nearing its end, so does his sleepiness. You along with him. Koji’s head begins to droop as the credits start to roll, his little body leaning further into Satoru’s side. His eyelids flutter with each blink, his earlier excitement now replaced by the slow pull of sleep. Satoru’s about to make a remark, before looking over at you and seeing your body slumped over on the other side. 

The scene feels peaceful in a way he hadn’t anticipated—a rare moment of quiet amidst the chaos that’s been your guys’ lives lately. Koji’s soft breathing grows steadier, his small body completely leaning into Satoru’s side now, one hand clutching his Spiderman plush while the other hangs limply at his side. Satoru glances down at his son with a faint smile, brushing Koji’s hair out of his face with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. He looks over to you next, ready your head resting on your hand. Your expression is soft, lips parted slightly as you drift into the kind of sleep that only exhaustion can bring. Satoru looks at the clock; 9:00pm.

For a moment, he just watches you both. Koji, who looks so much like him it’s almost uncanny, and you, the woman who’s somehow always managed to throw him off balance without even trying. He sighs softly, shaking his head at the scene before him. For a split second, he feels a shadow—a ghost from the past appears beside Koji. A baby girl who would’ve been seven by now.The baby girl who never got the chance to grow up. In that fleeting, haunting moment, he imagines her sitting there too, nestled beside her brother, giggling at Spiderman’s antics. He can imagine her features. She would’ve looked so much like you, it’s painful.

His chest tightens, and he has to look away, focusing on a random corner of the room as he fights to steady his breathing. It’s not fair—to her, to Koji, or to you. And yet, here he is, caught in the what-ifs and the might-have-beens, unable to let go of a past that feels like it happened both a lifetime ago and just yesterday. The glimpse is gone as soon as it comes, to which he’s thankful for because he is not crying right now. With a small grunt, he stands up and carefully moves Koji into his arms. Adjusting the boy and making sure he’s not waking up, he walks him over to the spare bedroom.

Satoru moves quietly, his footsteps soft against the floor as he cradles Koji in his arms. The boy’s head rests comfortably on his shoulder, his small body relaxed and completely unaware of the careful handling. The weight of his son in his arms, the warmth of Koji’s tiny form, is a stark reminder of everything he’s been missing. He pushes the door to the spare bedroom open gently, trying not to disturb the silence of the house. The moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a calm glow across the room. Satoru places Koji carefully on the bed, tucking him in with the same gentle movements he’s always used. He watches for a moment as the boy shifts slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips before settling back into a peaceful sleep.

For a second, Satoru just stands there, hands lingering at Koji’s side as if unsure of when to leave. It’s as if the past week—no, the past years—are catching up to him in this very moment. He never thought he'd be here, standing in a room like this, watching his son sleep under a roof that used to feel so distant. His chest tightens, but he refuses to let himself feel the weight of it. Not yet. Not with Koji so close. With one last look, he slowly pulls away, stepping back into the hallway and quietly closing the door behind him. The house feels colder as he moves through it, but this time, it’s not because of the empty spaces or the lingering tension. It’s because, for the first time in years, he’s truly trying to figure out where he fits in all of this.

And it’s a lot harder than he ever expected.

He walks back to the living room, your body now completely lying on your side. His lips purse as he stands before you, unsure if he should wake you or move you himself. Would that be okay? Is he crossing some boundary of yours if he touches you fully and intentionally?

Satoru stands there for a moment, studying you as you sleep. The soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your body curls slightly into the pillow, creates a sense of peace in the room, but also a sense of tension in him. The pull to reach out, to make sure you’re comfortable, is strong. But he hesitates, his mind racing with thoughts about boundaries, and the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable, especially when everything already feels so fragile between the two of you. He watches for a few more seconds, the quiet of the room making everything feel so... still. He doesn’t know how he got here, standing in the middle of the room, feeling so torn. Part of him wants to just go ahead and make sure you’re properly tucked in, like he did with Koji. But that other part of him continues to wonderf if that’s overstepping, if his presence, even now, feels intrusive. Satoru exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally, he decides to attempt to recreate his actions for Koji; it’s the least he can do.

He bends his knees slightly, hands reaching out. But just as his fingertips graze your bare arms, you’re jolting up and awake. Head swiveling around, eyes barely open and bleary. “What’s happening? Where’s Koji?”

Satoru freezes, his fingers hovering in the air as your voice cuts through the stillness. His eyes flick to you, wide and disoriented from the abruptness of your awakening. "Y/N?" He murmurs, his voice low and hesitant, almost as if he's unsure whether you’re fully awake. "Koji’s in the other room, he’s asleep."

You sit up, rubbing your eyes, still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Your thoughts are jumbled, disoriented from the deep slumber you’d just woken from. “I— I didn’t hear him... when did he go to bed?”

Satoru, still crouched by your bedside, lets out a soft sigh, his expression softening. "I put him down a few minutes ago. He was out before the movie ended." He pauses for a second, watching you carefully, his hand still lingering awkwardly in the air as if unsure whether to touch you or not. "You were really tired, so I thought I'd handle it."

You blink, the fog in your mind barely beginning to clear. Slowly, you nod, still trying to process everything in the haze of your exhaustion. “Thank you.” The words come out quieter than you expect, but there’s something in your voice that surprises both of you.

Satoru’s gaze lingers for a moment, a mix of concern and relief flashing in his eyes. He stands up, backing away from the bed slowly. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he says softly, hands running through his hair as he takes a step toward the door. “But you should go to bed. You can sleep with Koji or um—in my bed if you want.”

You stare at his figure, the weight of the situation still pressing down on you. There’s so much 

happening, so much you didn’t expect, and yet… for some reason, having him here, like this, almost feels normal. You rub your temples, trying to stave off the headache forming. 

“I’ll sleep out here, of course,” he quickly adds on, realizing the small, but accidental hinting.

You raise an eyebrow at his quick backpedaling, a small, almost reluctant smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It's been a long time since you shared any sort of space with him—especially under these circumstances. But the way he’s stumbling over his words, trying so hard to make things comfortable, it makes you wonder if maybe he’s not as composed as he likes to act. “Thanks,” you murmur, rubbing your temples again. The migraine's intensity is growing, and it's all you can do to keep your emotions in check. You hadn’t expected this—any of it. Satoru’s presence here, offering you comfort in his own odd way, only complicates everything more. You never asked for this kind of help, but you can't deny the relief it brings. “I’ll sleep with Koji.”

Satoru’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer, his expression softening as if he’s weighing his words carefully, trying not to overstep. He knows you’re not the type to ask for help. Hell, you hardly ever accept it when it’s offered. But tonight is different. Tonight is full of a thousand unspoken things. The lingering tension, the awkwardness of it all, and the confusing emotions between you two. It’s all too much, too quickly, and yet you feel the pull of something familiar—a bond you haven’t felt in years. “You sure?” he asks, his voice low. Almost like he’s waiting for you to give him some kind of permission or reassurance, something that lets him know you’re okay. His presence, his concern for Koji, it’s all so overwhelming in its own way.

You hesitate, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens just having him this close, even if it is just in the same house. “I’ll be fine,” you say, your voice a little softer than you intended. The last thing you want to do is drag him back into your life fully. But he’s already here, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you're too tired to argue. "You don’t have to stay out here." The words hang in the air for a beat.

You take this moment to rise from the couch, wiping your eyes once more. “Where is he?”

“Spare room,” he points.

You nod, more to yourself than to him, and retreat to the spare room. The migraine pounds in the background of your mind. Mind still riddled with sleep, you accidentally bump your shoulder into the wall, footsteps faltering. He moves faster than you anticipated—expected, his hands finally making contact with your upper arms; stablizing you. His touch itself feels reminiscent.

His grip on your arms is steady, firm—just like it used to be. You catch your breath for a moment, not expecting the familiarity of his touch to feel so grounding. For a split second, you’re taken back to moments from the past, the memories of simpler days when his touch brought comfort instead of tension. You want to pull away, to remind yourself that things aren’t the same anymore. But you’re too tired, too worn out, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into the stability he’s offering without question.

"Careful," Satoru’s voice is quiet, but there's a soft edge to it, like he’s genuinely concerned. His hands stay on your arms, not pulling away immediately, as if waiting for you to give him a signal that you’re okay.

You blink, the haze of sleep making everything feel just a little more surreal. "I’m fine," you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, but it lacks conviction. Your body feels heavier than it should, and your mind seems to be swimming in fog.

He doesn’t let go right away. Instead, his fingers give a slight squeeze, a small, unspoken reassurance. "You sure? You look like you’re about to fall over."

"I’m just... tired," you say, the words slipping from your lips before you even realize. You wince internally, but it’s too late to take them back now. There’s no point.

Satoru nods, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the hallway, but the way his eyes linger on you makes something in your chest tighten. It’s like he’s still trying to figure you out, still trying to read you after all these years. He always was good at that. Without saying much more, he gently guides you to the door of the spare room, a hand hovering above the small of your back; his touch still light but firm. He’s not pushing you, just there, a quiet presence in the storm. "Get some rest. I’ll be nearby, just in case."

You nod, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and frustration well up inside you. "Thanks," you murmur, finally able to pull away from his grip and step into the room.

Before you close the door, you glance over at him, standing there in the hallway, his figure outlined by the soft glow from the living room. "Good night," you add, your voice a little softer than you meant it to be.

He doesn’t respond immediately, but there’s a flicker in his eyes that you can’t quite place. After a beat, he says quietly, "Good night, Y/N."

And then, with one last look, he walks away, leaving you alone in the quiet darkness of the room. The door clicks softly behind you, and for the first time in days, you feel a small sense of peace—fragile, uncertain, but there all the same.

Satoru has taken the liberty of getting Koji dressed and ready for school. Shushing his son with quiet murmurs so you won’t wake up. He’s a little surprised, but you must be that tired. Satoru usually wakes up earlier than most, having went to go check on you two, but getting shocked to see his son using the bathroom instead and saying something about how “Mama’s still sleeping, I have school.”

He’s a smart kid—a very smart kid. He guided Satoru the entire ride, remembering the name of his school and which streets to use. You raised him well. He parks his car in the lot, it stands out like a sore thumb among the civics, corollas, and trucks.

Carrying Koji in his arms towards the boys classroom. “Excited, buddy?”

“Mhm!” 

Satoru smiles and kisses his cheek. “I’ll pick you up, okay?”

“Okay, Papa. Thank you.” Koji gratefully responds.

“No need to thank me, Koji. It’s my job.”

Satoru can feel the lingering stares and hushed whispers as he walks down the hallway to his son’s class. Ignoring it like a pro and focusing on one thing and one thing only. As they approach his room, Mr. Ito is standing outside like usual. As soon as the man sees the two, his eyes visibly widen before playing it off with a cough of his throat. “Good morning, Koji. Gojo.”

Satoru remembers the guy as the one from the cafe. That one. He nods in understanding, setting Koji down and crouching with him. “Have a fun day, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Papa.” Koji kisses his cheek and rushes inside happily. 

 "Morning," Satoru replies coolly, standing tall as he watches Koji run off to join his classmates. "I trust Koji’s been good?"

"Of course, of course," Mr. Ito replies quickly, his smile tight, the words coming out a little too fast. "He’s been a delight to have here. Very bright."

Satoru nods, but his eyes never leave Mr. Ito’s. "Glad to hear it."

There’s an awkward silence that stretches between them, but Satoru isn’t in the mood for small talk. He could read the teacher’s discomfort, and he’s not about to play into it. After all, it’s not like they’re friends, or even acquaintances. Mr. Ito shifts on his feet, and Satoru can tell he’s trying to think of something to say, something that will smooth over whatever awkwardness hangs in the air. “So, where’s Ms. Y/N today?”

Satoru’s brows tick, arms crossing. “At home.”

Mr. Ito nods, clearly trying to gauge whether there’s more to the story, but Satoru doesn’t give him any openings. He’s not in the mood to entertain questions about you, not now, not here, especially not from someone like him. "Ah, I see," Mr. Ito mumbles, his voice trailing off as he shuffles his feet again. "I just thought... well, with everything that’s been going on, I expected to see her here, too."

Satoru’s eyes narrow, though his expression remains calm, just a hint of warning in his tone. "She’s handling things on her own. We’re both doing fine. You don’t need to worry about it. You have a class full of children to teach."

The other man hides his displeasure behind a stiff nod. “Right, right. Just wondering, that’s all.”

“Don’t have to, she already has a man for that.”

Satoru wonders why he’s being do damn weird right now. Possesive almost. You two aren’t together, but the way this guy is asking about you, it’s slightly setting him off. Who does he think he is worrying about you?

Mr. Ito falters, his smile fading as Satoru’s words hang heavy in the air. "Right, of course," he mumbles, clearly taken aback. He shifts on his feet, his eyes darting to the ground before locking back onto Satoru. "Just asking, I mean… it's just a lot going on, you know?"

Satoru’s gaze hardens, the protective instinct that rises within him catching him off guard. He takes a slight step closer to Mr. Ito, his tone deliberately neutral but carrying an edge. "You don’t need to worry about her. She’s got it covered."

There’s a flicker of something in Mr. Ito’s eyes—something that hints he’s about to say something else, but he swallows it down, nodding stiffly instead. "Yeah, of course." He quickly looks away, clearing his throat. "Well, I guess I’ll… I’ll get back to the class."

Satoru stands still for a moment, his posture rigid, a sharp edge in his expression as he watches Mr. Ito retreat. He doesn't know why it bothered him so much. The guy wasn’t even doing anything wrong, not really. But the way he was asking about you—like he had any right to—made something inside Satoru twist uncomfortably. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this man didn’t belong in your world, that he had no place prying into your life.

Satoru finally exhales, shaking his head. Whatever. It was just a teacher.

With one last glance at the classroom door, he turns and heads back to the school doors. There's no reason to overthink this. It’s just… odd. He can’t let it get to him.

You wake up that day to a lone bed. Groaning to yourself as the sunbeams spray across your face and momentarily blind you. Hand reaching out for the space next to you. Instead, you see a note saying: dropped koji off, i’ll be back around noon to grab some lunch. sleep up

Instantly, your eyes widen, springing up out of bed. Reaching for your phone, the time reads 11:30pm. “Shit!” you curse to yourself, rushing out the door and to your bag still on the chair from last night. You dig in for your work clothes, changing right there and then and praying to the gods that Satoru doesn’t walk through this door. Brushing your teeth, hair, washing your face, putting some moustirzer and sunscreen on, all of it takes way too long. By the time you’re done and messily putting your shoes on, it’s twelve. Four hours after you were supposed to be at work. Hana’s going to kill me.

Grabbing your bag with rough and rushed movements, you’re sprinting to the door at this point. Out of breath and already conjuring up a sorry apology for Hana. you reach the doorhandle, flinging it open. But as soon as you do, you come to an abrupt stop.

Because standing before you is a woman, a woman you’ve seen before on Satoru’s lock screen. The same woman who kissed the lips that you used to. Arms crossed and a nasty scowl forming on her face as she eyes you up and down in a criticizing way. 

Finally, she scoffs out. 

“Do you know who I am?”

a/n: they so cute

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[kayesfanfics]

X-Men 97’ Nightcrawler x Reader

Warnings: ‼️X-MEN 97’ SPOILERS‼️, smut under the cut, cuteness overload-

A/N: KURT IS MY ALL TIME FAVORITE X-MAN/MARVEL CHARACTER IN GENERAL I ADORE HIM SO OF COURSE I HAD TO WRITE FOR HIM AFTER THE NEW EPISODE. I really hope we see him join the team or at least just more of him!

You were a mutant on Genosha when you met Kurt, he had helped show you and the other mutants around from your ship the island, and you had followed the handsome blue boy around like a lost little puppy. He was charming and mischievous, flirty with a cute fangy smile on his face. After the official tour was over, you asked him to show you some hidden gems of the island, to which he bowed and kissed your hand, “As you wish!” before teleporting the two of you away from the crowd. He had showed you a beautiful, peaceful and tropical spot away from everyone else, where the two of you got to know each other, soon becoming friends and meeting at that spot almost every day

He’d ask you out on a date pretty quick, he’s not shy about flirting at all and will make it clear that he finds you attractive and would like to know you more intimately. He’d take you to a nice restaurant, showing up in a dashing suit to impress you and his curls gelled back in a slick style. Will compliment you on your dress/suit and have you twirl for him to see the full outfit, saying “Mein gott! You look absolutely stunning, liebe!” before pulling out your seat for you like a gentleman and ordering a nice bottle of wine for the both of you to have with your dinner

After dinner you go for a walk around the gardens, holding Kurt’s arm he held out for you. His tail would curl around one of your legs as you talked, sitting on a bench together to view the night sky above the beautiful greenery together. He’d want to know your life story and would share his with you, he’d want to know what you like to do, what you hate, what you’re afraid of, what you love, and he’d share all of that about himself with you as well

After a few dates you became official, more often than not staying with each other in your homes (we’ll get to what goes on in the bedroom later😉). He’s a huge cuddler for sure, wants both his arms around you and his tail curled around your waist or leg. He doesn’t mind being big spoon or little spoon, he’s perfectly content and happy with both and just wants to feel your skin against his. He’s big on physical affection and PDA, he just loves you so much and he’s a physical guy in general. Wants to be able to hold your hand, give you kisses, wrap an arm around your waist, anything as long as he touching you in some way. Plus he likes to show off how lucky he got with you, showing you off and always making sure everyone knows he’s taken. He’s highly sought after, after all (if you ask him)

He’s always got a date planned, he’s definitely not one of those guys that lets the other do all the work in the relationship. He’ll take you to your favorite restaurants, do your favorite activities, anything you would like to do. He’s adventurous and will try anything once, and will always make an effort to do things you enjoy. He will teach you some sword fighting skills, just you know how to use them and plus, do some borderline erotic sparring sessions with him of course! It’s something he enjoys and wants to do with you, but if he ever cut you with a sword he’d want to damn himself to Hell because HOW DARE HE GIVE YOU A CUT LESS THAN A CENTIMETER LONG?! HE’S THE WORST PERSON TO EVER EXIST. He will bandage it and kiss it better, begging your forgiveness despite you already saying it wasn’t a big deal and it didn’t even hurt at all

When you were recruited to the X-Men, he was offered a spot as well so the both of you packed up and moved to the X-Mansion so you could help mutants from there. On missions, he’ll always catch you if you fall and teleport you out of harms way. Definitely flirts during battle as well and likes to show off his skills to you, making you giggle and smile at him before focusing back on the mission. If you get hurt during it, he’ll teleport you to the mansion immediately to the medical room before going to help his teammates so he can get you their help quicker. Will spend lots of time with you and cuddle with you while you recover, you don’t have to lift a finger, this man will get you whatever you want

He does like to tease you a lot, things like squeezing your butt as you walk by or giving it a light smack with his tail. Will whisper innuendos and jokes to you during important meetings and such to make you giggle, to which Scott gives you a deadpan stare until the two of you refocus. His tail will move up your pants or skirt under the table, making your face heat up

He’s constantly winning you over long after you’ve become official. Will still bring you flowers, will still flirt with you, but he’s also the type to be like “Would you still love me if I was a bug?” He does need some reassurance due to his looks and how he’s been hated because of them, like, HE knows he’s sexy, but he wants to make sure YOU think he’s sexy. And you assure him you think he is⬇️⬇️

NSFW Under the Cut

Oh he is SUCH a lover boy. He’s more focused on your pleasure than his own for sure, and my man is SKILLED and EXPERIENCED (everyone wants a taste of the fuzzy man-). His hands will be all over your body, even his tail will be wrapped around you as well, and he’ll be mindlessly blabbering on and on in English and German about how much he loves you and how beautiful/handsome he thinks you are. My dude is AMAZING at giving you head, doesn’t matter which genitals you have, he’s got experience with both and will have your legs shaking and your back arched far off the bed during round one. If you’re AFAB, he’d know exactly where the clit is and exactly how to pleasure it, rather than just roughly rubbing it and calling it good. If you’re AMAB, he’d for sure be fingering your ass while sucking you off, his other hand squeezing your thigh and spreading your legs for him while his tail holds your other leg for him, or even smacks your ass with it teasingly

You often insist on giving him head in return, which of course he doesn’t mind but HE IS ALWAYS TRYING TO MAKE SEX ABOUT YOU, when you want to make it about HIM sometimes. He’s so loving, caring and sweet to you, you just want to show him how much you love him as well and sometimes have to get that through his fuzzy head. He loves body worship for sure, so he’d love to hear you say how hot and sexy and handsome and adorable and beautiful he is while the two of you make love to each other, it’d make him cum 10x harder and faster

He’d lowkey be kind of basic and love missionary, but he’s certainly not vanilla. He just wants to be able to see your face and to hold you close to him, so missionary tends to be good for that, but he’d also love it if you rode him and watch your chest bounce and toss your head back at the feeling of his cock inside of you. I honestly think he’s got more girth and length, but definitely not too short at all and would fit perfectly inside of you. He also likes to hold your hand during sex, which may be cheesy but he just wants to make sure you’re okay the whole time

Being in a mansion with many others, it is sometimes hard to find privacy and quiet time for longer than 20 minutes, so he’ll sometimes teleport the two of you elsewhere so you’re not interrupted. When in your room at the mansion though, he likes to make you scream while teasing you to be quiet and that someone will hear you, covering your mouth with his hand or kissing you muffle your loud moans and whines for him. But when the two of you walk out to the living quarters to join some of the others, Jubilee and Roberto will not make eye contact, Morph will give Kurt a knowing smirk and a high five, while Gambit outright says “You know we could hear y’all at it all the way down here-“ before Scott gives you two the disappointed dad look and says “There are children residing here.”

Kurt: And how exactly did Jean get pregnant?

Scott: 😳

Kurt: Yeah, that’s what I thought-

[calebsmuse]

੭⠀ Some short scenarios of them seeing you wearing “someone else’s” jacket.

⋆⠀AUTHOR'S NOTES: Caleb’s part can be a little ooc since I still don’t know much about how he is after the accident.

⋆⠀FEATURING: Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, Caleb.

⋆⠀WARNING: English is not my first language, so it may contain some mistakes.

Linkon isn’t exactly a cold city, especially not in the spring. Maybe it was the wind or the rain that always threatened to fall but never came, but you felt as if even your bones were freezing. And precisely because it wasn’t a cold season, you hadn’t brought any coat to layer over your uniform.

Your only option was to wear the winter uniform jacket provided by the Hunter Association. They were ugly, made from fabric not as good as the uniform itself, and certainly oversized, given they came in a single, standard size for everyone. And so, you did just that—grabbed it from your locker and went outside to wait for your ride.

If you had waited inside, you might not have had to wear that jacket, but you didn’t want to be more inconvenient than you already felt by having someone drive you home. You wanted to delay them as little as possible.

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀XAVIER

For someone so calm, he got pretty temperamental when he saw you wearing a coat that was definitely not yours—or so he thought, at least. It was almost funny how he didn’t realize it was just the standard Hunter jacket for cold days.

As soon as you walked out of the building, Xavier was already in front of it, scrolling through his phone. When he heard the click of your heels, he looked up and opened his mouth to speak, but his brows furrowed as his eyes fell on the jacket you were wearing. You found it odd that he didn’t smile when he saw you.

“It’s not that cold.” he said, though he quickly realized he had sounded rude. “That jacket doesn’t look comfortable. Where’s yours?”

You blinked, giving him a smile to mask your confusion. “This one is mine.” Xavier didn’t seem convinced, his hands moving to unzip his jacket. “I forgot my favorite one at home, so I had to wear the uniform jacket.” He paused for a moment, nodded, and then proceeded to take off his own and hand it to you.

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀RAFAYEL

He’s so obvious about how he feels—it’s as if the mere sight of the coat is a personal offense to his existence. Rafayel wants you out of that crime against fashion as soon as possible. His eye even twitched when he saw you walking out wearing that thing.

“Very kind of whoever lent you this… thing, but what poor taste. We can’t exactly call it pretty, can we?” he said, letting out a dry laugh as he opened the car door for you to get in.

He didn’t even wait for you to explain, simply getting in and closing the door as soon as you sat down. As the driver began the route, Rafayel turned toward you. “Do me a favor?” His hand took yours and guided it to the hem of his shirt, making you hold it while he pulled off his sweater.

You raised an eyebrow, but he ignored you, holding the sweater out for you to take. “It’s definitely more comfortable than what you’re wearing.”

Although you accepted and removed the jacket to slip on his sweater, you couldn’t resist poking fun at him. “You do know this is mine, right?”

“That atrocity?” He glanced at the jacket now sitting in his lap and smiled. “Then I must say, I thought you had better taste than this.”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀ZAYNE

Zayne was checking his watch when he heard you greet him, and his response came two seconds late as his eyes landed on what you were wearing. But he didn’t say anything. And he didn’t plan to, either. After all, why would he be upset about you trying to avoid catching a cold…? That was the excuse he used to sweep away the hint of jealousy stirring inside him.

He opened the car door for you to get in, then walked around to the driver’s seat. Meanwhile, you kept chatting away. You knew there were times when he preferred listening to speaking, but he was even quieter than usual.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his hand moving instinctively toward the car’s heater, but you shook your head. Once again, Zayne took a deep breath and nodded, though the unease lingered.

Halfway through the ride, you took off the jacket, folded it, and placed it on your lap, as the temperature inside the car wasn’t chilly—even though the heater remained off.

When you arrived at your house, he got out first to open the door for you, and as soon as you stepped out, you felt something being draped over your shoulders—his overcoat.

“You don’t need to bother, Zayne. I’m already almost inside—” you tried to argue, but he only gave a barely perceptible smile and ignored your words.

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀SYLUS

He almost burst out laughing when he saw you approaching, completely ignoring how embarrassed you looked. “Whose thing is that—?”

“I told you to wait at the end of the street, not right in front of the building. Are you trying to get arrested…?” you muttered, while he just bit his lip, trying to hold back the grin already spreading across his face. Still, a flicker of irritation crossed his mind at the thought that someone else might’ve had the chance to offer you a jacket before he did. “And stop laughing! It’s getting cold.”

You reached out for the helmet, but he didn’t hand it over. Instead, he placed it on the seat of the bike and turned around. Taking off his own jacket, he held it out to you. “I’m sure mine’s better than that one.” As much as it hurt your pride, he was right, and you didn’t refuse the offer. “Seriously, to lend someone something of such poor quality…”

“Lend?” you raised an eyebrow as you slipped on his jacket. “Oh. It wasn’t lent—this jacket’s mine.” Sylus smirked, finally handing you the helmet.

“Guess the hunter salary isn’t paying much these days, huh?” he quipped. “I’ve got an opening for a secretary if you’re interested.”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀CALEB

“Who?” was the first thing he asked, his eyes locking with yours before dropping down to the piece of clothing. He uncrossed his arms, his hand reaching out to pinch the fabric.

“It’s mine. Part of the winter uniform,” you said with a smile. Caleb mirrored it, the corners of his lips lifting just slightly.

He draped an arm over your shoulder as he guided you to where he had parked the car. “It’s way too big for you.” His tone was friendly, though you couldn’t help but sense a hint of bitterness in his words.

“It’s one-size-fits-all. I forgot mine at home, so I had to use this one.” Caleb nodded, and the two of you continued chatting as usual.

“This isn’t the right street,” you pointed out when he passed the turn that would lead to your house.

“We’re shopping first,” he said, giving you a quick glance before focusing back on the road. “We need to buy you some new clothes.”

[envy-of-the-apple]

A Mutual Hatred

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

finally kicking out the fic that’s been a draft for three years:) ahaha...aha...ha if its obvious this was written for another character...no it wasn’t

(Warnings: implied non-con, implied drugging, college!AU, dark content)

Gojo Satoru did not like you. 

He didn’t make it obvious. But, you could see the way he slowly inched away from you. And the fake fake smile he stretched on his lips anytime he was forced to talk to you. 

It was a little offensive. You never obsessed about people liking you, but the fact that someone super popular would rather not exist when you were around...well, it stung. 

It could’ve been worse. At least he didn’t openly admit his hatred of you. It was just the tiny, little things he did that made you know there were boundaries. 

But you weren’t Gojo’s friend, you were Geto’s friend. Which meant, as much as you’d rather not to go the party celebrating their latest win, you were still dragged anyway. 

A loud cheer erupted across from the room. Still nursing your drink, you gave Geto a look. 

“The baseball team,” He sighed, “Shit, sorry. I didn’t know they were gonna be here. I know they’re fucking crazy but they won’t bother you. I promise.” 

You have to laugh at his genuinely apologetic look. You wave him away. 

“It’s fine,” You say, “I don’t mind, Besides, they look....fun.” 

Your words come a bit too late as you spot the team captain trying to do a handstand on top of an extremely fragile vase. That would end well. 

“I’m glad they’re supportive of you, at the very least,” 

Geto is sighing, ready to apologize again. He promised you this would be low-key, just the basketball team and a few mutual friends. 

Now it’s just the basketball team, along with a hundred other people. 

If anything you’re impressed at how quickly the numbers formed. The music was loud, booming, nearly blowing out your ears. People were dancing, at the very least, moving together in disjointed clumps because you are pretty sure alcohol doesn’t help you with dancing. 

Voices tear you away from the scene, and your gaze settles on Geto’s volleyball squad. They eagerly start to wave him over. He shakes his head. You frown. 

“Don’t babysit me,” You tell him, “Go. Have fun.” 

He gives you a look. You roll your eyes. 

“I promise I’ll be fine. The only reason I’m here is for the free beer.” 

You’re planning on throwing your cup of cheap booze away the second you can, but you don’t want him to think he has to guard you for the night. That’s who Geto is, a self-proclaimed protector. You don’t even know him all that well but he’s still more than happy to forfeit hanging out with his friends to sit here with you. He’s a good person. 

You still can’t understand why a guy like him would ever be friends with Gojo. 

They had been childhood friends. Best friends. Stayed together until college. Maybe it was just proximity that kept them so close, because you couldn’t imagine it were their personalities. 

Geto sighs, reluctantly slipping away. 

“If you need anything, lemme know.” You nod, keeping your smile on as he gives you one last look before joining his friends. 

Finally alone, you drop the cup in the trash as soon as you can.

At least, you thought you were alone. 

“Too strong?” 

You jump at his voice. Gojo tilts his head, gazing at you with pretty blue eyes. His glasses are off tonight. 

“I-” you stumble, not really sure what to say. He was going out of his way to talk to you? “I was just-” 

“Don’t worry, I get it,” he laughs, light and airy and you’re starting to get why he has a fanclub, “Nazumaki has shitty tastes. Wanna try what I’m having?” 

He hands you an opened can. Still a bit confused, you accept. It’s slightly better. With a fruity aftertaste. When you go to hand it back, he waves you off. 

“Take it, I gotta’ drive home.” He reasons. 

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you accept. This was...weird. Really really weird. Gojo Satoru didn’t like you. Not even the slightest. Then, why was he being so...nice?

Or maybe you had it all wrong? You were overreacting? 

“Congrats on winning your game.” You tell him, when the silence stretches on for far too long.

“Yeah,” he responds, “you went?” 

You shake your hade. 

“Too busy,” you responded sheepishly, “but I watched the highlights. You guys were awesome.” 

“A huge improvement from fall semester.” he agrees. “Fuck, you should’ve seen us those first couple of weeks. Like a bunch of....coked up squirrels or something. Horrible passes, jumping all over the place, just-” 

He’s cut off by your laugh. “I’m sorry...coked up squirrels?” 

“You didn’t see our freshmen,” he argues, “It’s a great analogy.” 

“I’ll take your word for it.” You smile.

 It’s definitely the alcohol. On his part too. But conversation flows like you are two old friends. It’s so easy to talk to him. Laugh with him. For a moment, you almost forgotten how much disdain Gojo Satoru used to show you. 

Almost.

“You know....for a while, I thought you hated me.” You confessed, because you had to bring it up eventually. The suspense was killing you, eating you alive.

“What?” 

“I mean.” The floor looks weird. You don’t like the carpet. “On campus, you were always so stand-offish. Like you were mad at me.” 

He shoots you an amused look. “I didn’t hate you. I guess I was kinda’ just pissed.” 

You scrunch your forehead, “Oh, you were? Why?” 

“’Cuz you had a nice ass and I wasn’t allowed to touch it.” 

You blink. And then the world tilts sideways. 

What?

Hands grip your shoulders, holding you upright. 

“Woah, baby. I think you had a bit too much. Let’s go lay down.” Gojo purrs into your ear, as he starts leading you away. 

You weren’t drunk. You knew that. You barely had anything. You make a meager struggle against his unwavering body as your dazed mind starts to piece what’s happening. 

You nearly stumble into another group of people. Gojo takes the reigns immediately, apologizing on behalf of his ‘drunk friend who doesn’t know limits’. It’s so deranged that at one point you’re convinced you’re having an out-of-body experience. That this isn’t real. A dream. A nightmare. 

But this is real. He shows you the moment he shoves you into a closet, shutting the door behind him.

“Wh-what are you doing-” your pleas are interrupted by soft lips. You’ve never once thought about kissing Gojo but his lips are like pillows. It’s his strength that suffocates you. Biting and licking up your blood. 

“Would’ve done this sooner, but your bodyguard would never leave you alone for long. The bastard. Keeping you all to himself.” 

Bodyguard? He’s kissing you again, groping you through your clothes and you can’t stand to even think. Geto, it eventually clicks. His helpful protectiveness. You-you thought he was like that with everyone. 

Something, a second wind maybe, kicks up at you. You struggle against his large hands. Gojo grunts, as though your desperation was a minor inconvenience for him. 

“Stop it, fucking stop.” He hisses, pulling at your hair. You yelp. “Stop fighting this when we both know you-” 

The door opens, swinging in blaring light and the sounds of the party with it. Satoru stills, blinking up at the newcomer. You look up too, heart crackling with relief. 

Geto stands there, chest heaving, and it takes a minute for you to realize he must have ran here. You open your mouth, nothing but a warbled plea comes out. 

You expect him to do something. To grab Gojo by the hair and pull. To save you. 

But he doesn’t. He just stands there. 

When you search his eyes. You don’t find anger. You just see hunger. 

Gojo’s pretty laugh rings through the air. Undisturbed. Expectant. 

“What took you so long?” 

[gor3-hound]

don't hold your breath(nobody's home)

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dead dove, uncle-niece incest, non-con, loss of virginity, very minor blood description, forced alcohol consumption, alcoholism from leon ofc, reader gets slapped, age gap, guilt, one threat, fingering, p in v, non-consensual creampie, crying, idk leon feels entitled cause his brother sucks, reader hinted at having nice tits idk

a/n: sorry if this sucks ass... my motivation for writing has been non-existent w real life stuff n all the drama so... i feel like this is awful but here we are. title from razzmatazz by idkhbtfm... not proofread i'm sorry </3

word count: 1.9k words

Leon knew he had a drinking problem. He just hadn't realised it had gotten this bad. He couldn't even get his dick up with viagra anymore. He frowns as he looks down at the brunette he was planning to fuck, tempted to try and just push it in soft.

He ends up just kicking her out to drown his sorrows. He wasn't dealing with this shit tonight, not when he was seeing his asshole brother tomorrow. Pretty wife, perfect kids. His job pays better than Leon's ever will, and he didn't need to undergo years of trauma. Lucky bastard.

Leon does what he does best that night and drinks enough whiskey so he can pass out without worrying about the nightmares coming to ruin his night. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He hasn't seen you in a good six years. You were still playing with dolls and shit when he last visited. Makes him feel stupid when he brings you a plushie as a gift. Clearly he forgot how time worked, cause he still expected you to be thirteen. You still hug him and say thank you, sweet as ever. When his brother said he'd be watching the house and looking after you, he didn't expect to see you so... grown. Too old to need a babysitter, really. Even if your parents are gonna be gone for a week.

He gulps as his hands settle on your hips, trying to prevent you from pressing against his hardening cock. Down boy. At least his dick still works. It just took his college-aged niece to get it up. Doesn't help that you've got your tits smooshed against his chest.

Therapy was gonna be a doozy this week.

He could only pray that this doesn't turn into anything. The last thing he needed was his dick being the thing that got him thrown into prison for doing something stupid to you, no matter how cute that body of yours is. That's a new one, he thinks, mentally slapping himself for even thinking about touching you like that. He'd never do it, of course. That's sick, and he knows it. He's just so frustrated. And you're hot. A total babe. Somehow, you managed to get a better rack than your mom. Must be the Kennedy genes coming in. Leon's got tits for days.

He knew he had a drinking problem, but he never thought he'd lose himself this much. He never thought about hurting anyone. He's not a bad guy. It's just that every time he tried to be with someone, he just couldn't get his body to react the way he wanted. That's what the oxytocin was for, he thought, already thinking about taking a swig of whiskey from the flask in his pocket. If only that fucking stuff worked on him. The part of his brain that controlled his cock seemed to be permanently on vacation, and his wires clearly got crossed somewhere if he wants to fuck his own blood.

Whatever. He could get through a week alone with his niece without any trouble. He's faced worse monsters than the ones making themselves present in his mind right now. He'd keep his distance, and all would be okay.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That didn't work. Of course it didn't. You were just as clingy with him as you were when you were a kid, following him around like a lost puppy. He's convinced he's clutching the glass of whiskey in his hand hard enough to shatter it as you curl up against his side. His cock is throbbing, and he seriously hopes you don't notice how the fabric of his jeans is getting a little strained.

You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you.

Fuck this.

He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.

“Leon… Leon, what're you doing?” You force out, small hands pressing at his chest as if you'd be able to knock him off. Cute. He'd fought creatures six times your size. You didn't stand a chance. 

He starts undressing you, and you start writhing and crying, hitting his chest with clenched fists. He swallows the lump that builds in his throat, wiping the tears that fall down your cheeks.

“Shh… it's okay, I'm… I'm gonna take care ‘f you.” He murmurs, his voice slightly slurred from how much he'd drunk. You cry even harder when he presses a finger into you, making the guilt rise up faster in him. That's not fair. He's being nice. God didn't bless him with much, but at least he gave him a fat cock. You should feel lucky he's prepping you. Not making him feel bad.

“Hey.” He warns, shoving another finger in just to shut you up. You finch when he scissors you open. Poor thing. “That's enough. One more complaint for you, and I'll just force myself in.”

Shit. Now he really does feel like a monster. He's not drunk enough to handle the pure terror on your face at his words. He fumbles on the coffee table with his free hand as he lazily pumps into you with the other. Glass? No. Bottle.

Maybe you need some, too. Get you nice and pliant so you'll take his dick without bitching. Not a bad idea. He twists the cap off with his teeth, gulping some of the liquid down himself. He takes another mouthful before leaning down to kiss you, spitting the liquid into the back of your throat. He keeps your mouth on yours even as you try to jerk away, making sure you swallow it.

You really are adorable as you start coughing and spluttering. Such a sweet thing, you probably hadn't even drunk before. He lifts the bottle to your mouth, pouring some more into your mouth before setting it down, covering your mouth. “Swallow.”

He starts thumbing at your clit as he fingers you, relishing in the ways your whimpers turn into soft moans, your hips bucking against his hand. He manages to coax an orgasm out of you with a few more touches, a big smile spreading across his face.

“There we go, sweetie. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” He coos, unbuttoning his jeans. The sound of the zipper has your eyes widening in horror, and he tuts softly. “What're you giving me that look for? It's your turn to take care of me now.”

There goes the begging and pleading again. It has his brows pinching together as a frown tugs at his lips. You really are his brother's kid. So goddamn ungrateful. He just took care of you, and now you just want him to… what? Fist his dick in the guest room?

He smacks you so hard your head snaps to the side, your breaths coming out in short gasps. You look better like that, tears stinging your eyes but your body completely limp. He can see the fight draining out of your eyes.

“I was gonna be nice.” He mumbles, brows furrowing as he lines his tip up with your entrance, forcing himself inside in one thrust. He groans loudly, shuddering as your tight heat envelops him. His eyes look down, locked onto your cunt as he fucks into you with long strokes. He freezes when he notices blood. He's not sure if he's happy or disgusted that he's your first. No wonder you put up such a fight.

You keep weakly begging him to stop, but your pussy is gushing all over him. It's not his fault he can't stop – you're giving him the hottest look he's ever seen, and your puffy cunt is so fucking greedy for his cock, sucking him back in everytime he starts to pull out.

“S-sorry… I'm so sorry…” He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts, groaning at the sound of your punched out moans as he drives into you with as much force as he can muster. You almost sound like you're enjoying it, but you're still fucking crying and he can't take it. His heart hurts.

“Baby, please…” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the betrayal on your face. His arms tremble as he holds himself up, sloppily fucking into you. “I'm sorry… just stop cryin’, please…”

Every time his hips smack the fat of your ass, you're moaning out a ‘please’. With his eyes shut, he can pretend you're begging for more. That you like this. That is, until you start saying ‘stop’. He winces, but the movement of his hips doesn't falter.

“Fuck, baby… please stop begging.” He pleads, throwing his head back as his tip kisses your cervix. He whimpers as it makes you tighten around him, angling his thrusts to hit that spot each time he fully sheaths himself inside of you.

“I-I can't stop…you feel so… fuck. So fucking good. M'so close.” He groans. He can't even find the strength to pull out anymore. He buries himself balls deep in your cunt, grinding himself into your tight heat.

“L-Leon… please.” You say weakly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as panic sets in, your hands pushing at his chest. “Y-you gotta pull out, you can't… you can't.”

“What?” He breathes out, cracking his eyes open to look at you again. He looks genuinely confused. Why would he ever pull out when you felt so good? He can't bring himself to. “Baby, no. I'm cumming inside of you. Can't pull out now.”

That seems to bring your fight back. You start struggling under him again, punching him with all your strength. Luckily, that's not a lot. Especially when you're sluggish from your first time drinking and getting fucked. It's Leon's lucky day.

“Shit, baby. Don't look at me like that.” Or do. He's gonna cum if you keep staring up at him with that wide-eyed expression. “No need to be so scared, princess. I just… shit. Can't help myself.”

Doesn't take longer than a minute after that for him to finish. He buries his face in your neck, whining as he cums. His cock kicks inside of you, the warmth of his release filling every inch of you. You start sobbing all over again, slumping weakly against the couch.

He lies on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the couch. He pets your hair like you're a doll, his fingers carding through your hair.

“I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. I'll be so good. Do whatever you want. Didn't mean it.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek over and over as if he's trying to get you to relax. He keeps it up until you fall asleep, wrapping you up in his arms.

When you wake up in the morning, you're fully dressed in your bed. You almost think it's a dream until you feel the dull throbbing between your legs.

[blooberrries]

『consequential』 — satoru

— pairing: satoru x afab!reader — wc: 5k — content: mdni, nsfw; vampire au, college/university au, jealous/possessive satoru, blood drinking, vampire bites (chest, neck and arm), alcohol, mutual pining (a distant relative of idiots to lovers), piv sex, love bites (heh literally), standing/sex against the wall (he holds you up the entire time because he's actually insane), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming,he's a bit of a simp really idk if that was planned — notes: got possessed by the Horny Spirit, also not proofread. enjoy? also be gentle with me I haven't written smut in over a year

prompt: ["Oh, don't be cute."] + [“you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”]

While slightly spiteful, your plan had been simple and had about a 50/50 chance of succeeding, with minimal loss to you if it didn’t.

Two weeks ago Gojo Satoru had— after months of asking for it and being denied by you— finally gotten your permission to drink your blood. So he’d gone ahead and bitten you, you’d loved it and probably fell even more annoyingly head over heels for him as a result of the oddly erotic experience, and the way he had acted during the whole ordeal gave you a decent indication that he most definitely felt the same way you did.

You’d expected things to finally change between you after that, hell you’d actually been excited for it.

But instead of leaning into the shift in the dynamic between you, Satoru had instead decided to pretend you didn’t exist and proceeded to completely avoid you for the last two weeks.

(Which is actually quite the feat considering how much overlap there is between your friend groups. But you’re not impressed. You’re mad.)

To say you were upset would be an understatement. Your pride was wounded along with your ego, and you felt foolish and embarrassed and stupidly angsty. The unfortunate reality is that you’re not very good at processing those feelings, so in your time of need you turned to your most faithful, long-time friend: spite.

You know for a fact that Satoru likes the way you smell and taste– it’s one of the many things he’d let slip when sucking the blood ever so gently from the puncture he’d made in the soft flesh of your inner forearm. So you decided to wait until the prime part of your cycle, where the supernatural consensus said humans smelt their best, and you’d procured a tincture from your witch-in-training friend that would accentuate the natural appeal of your blood for certain creatures of the night (she’d assured you it was safe, but you have your own means of defending yourself anyway so you aren’t too worried.)

Then, you’d waltzed your way into a party that was being held at his shared accommodation and made it a point to have fun. The real goal of your plan, besides sticking it to him in the most subtle-not-subtle way ever, was also just to feel better about yourself. Your expectations being upended regarding how you’d hoped things would develop with Satoru had been a big blow and would take some TLC from yours truly to recover from.

You’ve had fun so far, you’re only a drink or so in and pleasantly buzzed, and you’re getting a lot of compliments on your perfume. You can’t exactly tell them you’re not wearing anything but eau de spite, but it does feel nice nonetheless. Each comment is like a balm to your poor, chafed ego. The only wrench in the works is that as expected, not long after you arrived, Satoru noticed you.

And then proceeded to continue in his efforts to avoid and ignore you. He’d disappeared into the throng of people on the other side of the house before you could even blink.

It takes a strongly mixed cocktail, courtesy of Shoko who you’re not sure isn’t trying to kill you with the alcohol content of these drinks, for you to settle your fuming. This is stupid— no, he’s stupid. Stupid sexy vampire with his stupid pretty eyes and stupid pretty face. How dare he let you make a fool of yourself by thinking there could be anything more between you! You never should have let him bite you. At least then things would still be the same and you wouldn’t be so torn between throttling him and kissing him.

Angrily, you take a hearty gulp of your drink. Despite the superficial fruity flavour it burns on the way down, unsurprisingly, and you have to breathe slowly through your nose so it doesn’t come back up. You’re no longer uncertain; you’re confident this cocktail is an attempt on your life.

It’s as you’re nursing that drink and leaning angstily against a wall in the corner of the room, that you sense someone approach you. Your eyes take a moment to adjust as you look up, surprise filtering through you once you register the figure by your side.

“Hey.”

Your brows shoot up, a small grin tugging your lips. “Oh? Long time no see, Mei Mei. What cave have you crawled out of to be here tonight?”

The snow-haired woman rolls her eyes, lips twitching. Her tongue darts to swipe over the tip of a pointed canine.

“Oh, you know, every homebody has to come out to play every once in a while.” Her nose twitches, and she leans forward slightly to inhale. Her eyes flutter wide in pleasant surprise. “Well, don’t you smell absolutely divine tonight. Special occasion?”

Kind of, but you’re not about to tell her that. Mei Mei can be a decent enough acquaintance so long as you keep her at arm’s length.

“I’m trying something new,” you answer simply. She hums, and when her body angles towards you again ever so slightly you become aware of the most odd, prickly sensation. It tickles the hairs at the back of your neck, and you fight the peculiar urge to turn and look around. All you’d see is dancing bodies and stumbling drunks, anyway.

“It suits,” Mei Mei purrs with a smile that makes you a little nervous. Music throbs against your body so strongly that for a moment you’re not sure whether the beat you’re feeling in your chest belongs to your heart or the song. “Though you ought to be careful going on campus smelling like that. You’ll lure in every bloodsucker in a five-mile radius.”

You suppose that means the tincture is doing its job. The way her eyes are appraising your pulse points keeps you feeling nervous, though. Perhaps… it wasn’t the best idea to make yourself smell so scrumptious after all. There are more than a few loose canons in the area.

It’s a little too late for regrets now, though. At this point you just gotta double down and own the decision.

“Noted,” you say, taking a hearty sip of your death-in-a-cup. The burn is now a pleasant distraction. You smile at Mei Mei and feel that prickly, hot feeling increase tenfold. What is that?!

The sensation has your heart rate elevating slightly, and it must make the aroma of your blood a little stronger because the vampire before you lets out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering shut. Almost like it’s instinct, she takes a step closer and leans her head towards the crook of your neck. Your startle is almost imperceptible, and you’re thankful that the top you opted for is one that saved the neck exposure for a well-placed boob window instead. The fabric covering half the expanse of your throat is probably the only reason you don’t freak out at her actions.

Her nose brushes your skin, dragging up the column of your throat until it flirts with the bottom of your earlobe. Your heart skips a beat before tumbling into a full gallop. It’s different to how it felt with Satoru— you don’t like this nearly as much. Your legs tense with the urge to leave.

“Really,” she says, purring your name. “You’ve got me feeling quite peckish. Won’t you let me have a little sn–“

A grip winds around your wrist like a vice, not painful but certainly unforgiving. Startled, you look up and see the person of the hour, the vampire you went to all this effort to torment in the hopes he would want you again. Wow, it doesn’t sound great when you think of it like that. The alcohol is certainly not helping your self-esteem right now.

Satoru’s pretty baby-blues are dark, pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen before, and his entire body is riddled with tension. He almost looks like the slightest pressure would have him snapping in half. His jaw is locked tightly, and he hisses through clenched teeth and descended fangs.

“Come with me. Now.”

You don’t get the chance to bid Mei Mei farewell, not that you really want to, and the last thing you see as you’re dragged out of the room is her waving a manicured hand your way, mouthing a playful ‘goodbye’. She looks far too amused for your comfort.

Right now, Satoru is nothing like the cheeky, carefree, shit-stirring bastard you’ve come to know and love. That isn’t to say you’re completely opposed to it, because the way he looks like know is a pretty big turn-on. But still – the difference is startling. You’re not sure how to navigate the situation.

Before you know it you’ve been unceremoniously relocated to his bedroom, and he is pressing you against the door the second it closes behind you with a heavy, loud THUD.

For a moment, the only sound that fills the space is that of the music beyond the wooden barrier. The bass is no longer indistinguishable with your heart beat – the stuttering rhythm that echoes against your rib cage is all you.

Satoru inhales deeply as though to calm himself down, only to let out a long, low groan immediately after. The sound affects you more than it probably should, heat winding pleasantly up your spine.

“What was that?” He demands, brows snapping together. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s most likely referring to Mei Mei being horny on main just before. His massive frame boxes you in against the door in such a way that you’re almost embarrassed by how much it makes your tummy flutter.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathe, chin tilted up as you hold his gaze. Something feral flickers through his expression.

“Oh, don’t be cute.” The words snap into the air, causing your breath to hitch. Satoru’s eyes flick to your forearm, where the slightest bruise still remains from the last time you were in close quarters like this. He swallows, piercing gaze returning to your own.

“I told you.” Satoru’s words leave in a snarl, his fingers firm against the flesh of your hips. His own body is so close to yours that you can feel the heat of it, the tingle of electricity that arcs between you. “That I would be able to smell it if another vampire so much as breathed near you. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you getting chummy with one in my own home?”

You can easily recall him saying that to you almost a fortnight ago, when he had been commenting that he could tell you hadn’t been bitten before thanks to his sharp senses and all that. You didn’t think he was lying. You are surprised that he cares, though. Something like indignation bubbles beneath your lungs, because how dare the bastard spout that shit when he just spent the last two weeks since your ‘encounter’ pretending you didn’t exist.

“Not sure why you give a shit,” you retort, squashing down a whine that begins to rise in your throat when his hips begin to press into yours. “Seemed like you were done with me after you finally got that taste you wanted so bad.”

His brows scrunch together, appearing confused for a second amongst the agitation on his features. You decide to fill the gap in the conversation on his behalf.

“I really was just a Sip ‘n’ Dip to you, huh,” you scoff, letting your head fall back against the door. His eyes snap to the column of your throat, more of which is now exposed. “At least now I know the only thing you want from me is my blood. Really saved me some grief there, Satoru.”

“Excuse me?”

When your eyes slide back to his face, he looks like you’ve physically struck him. His fingers dig into your hips almost out of habit, just shy of being painful. Anger still bubbles beneath your sternum, and you glare at him.

“By the way, as far as I’m aware, biting me once doesn’t give you any exclusive rights to my blood, so where the hell do you get off getting so shitty because someone else took a whiff–“

Satoru snaps.

“I don’t just want your blood,” he snarls, lips curling away from pin-prick sharp fangs. He has the nerve to look insulted. “I want you, you stupidly oblivious pain in my ass. All of you.”

He then leans in, erasing any foreign scents lingering on you and replacing it with something of his own, whatever pheromone bullshit vampires do. You’re too busy trying to stop your heart from having palpitations to focus on it too much because what the fuck did he just say—

“Do you have any idea how close I am to losing myself to a frenzy, like a fucking fledgling?!” His lips brush over the pulse point at your neck, and then teeth, razor-sharp and full of promise, drag over the skin of your clavicle, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You shiver, flushing with heat and desire. The threat of another bite is already enough to have your body reacting in memory of how the last one felt. You want him, god you want him so, so badly.

“I haven’t fed since then because I can’t get the taste of you out of my head, and I can’t stomach anything else. I can’t stop thinking about the noises you made when I sank my teeth into you, and the scent of absolute desire that filled the entire fucking room the second the venom kicked in for you.” Satoru’s words are punctuated by a prick just below your collarbone, the brief sting eliciting a gasp. Warmth begins to trickle thinly from the site and is quickly staunched by a press of his tongue, and he moans. You’re so painfully aroused that it nearly makes you dizzy. He groans, long and suffering. “Just like now.”

He moves lower and lower, hauling you off the floor and completely into his hold so his mouth can reach your chest without stooping. Suddenly in the air, you can’t help the way you yelp and wrap your legs tightly around his hips – which, in turn, presses the heat of your core against the very prominent bulge there. You both echo a groan.

“Coward,” you manage to pant, out of sheer spite if nothing else. “Stupid idiot. I clearly want you. I literally could not have been any more obvious, you’re so –“

His teeth sink into the exposed top of your breast, retracting once they puncture deep enough to get a good flow. Then, he latches firmly onto the flesh, sucking it into his mouth. The act startles a moan out of you, the venom from the initial bite already transmuting the pain into heady pleasure and sending heat through your veins, all while kicking your heart into an even faster beat. Perhaps one of the best perks of the venom is that after that first dose settles in, the only part of the process left for you to feel is pleasure.

Even while you’re unable to help the way your hips roll into his own, and unable to ignore the feral, sinful moans vibrating against your chest as he suckles the wound he made and drinks from you, you manage to continue insulting him.

“You’re so stupid, why the hell did you avoid me for two weeks huh?” A moan breaks up your complaint as he swipes his tongue in broad movements over the bite, his hips snapping into yours and pressing you further into the door. The wood creaks, but neither of you pay it any mind. You can barely function around the incredible sensation of his cock grinding against you through layers of clothing. “All you did was send mixed messages and piss me off and, ngh fuck–“

He pulls back enough that you can see the flush in his face, the feral gleam in his eyes and the smear of blood over swollen lips. His brows are furrowed, but he’s too besotted by the taste of you to have as much heat behind his glare as he did previously.

“There are some things you can’t take back,” he grits out, tongue coming to clean the red from his lips. Your heart stutters, pulse thudding in your ears. “Especially for my kind. If I didn’t stay away, I probably would have ended up doing one of those things.”

Your core positively throbs with need, clenching around nothing. The extent to which you want him right now has you more irritable than usual. “Satoru, I wouldn’t have let you drink from me if I wasn’t interested in everything else it would entail—“

“You don’t understand,” Satoru groans, freeing a hand to rip at the material of your shirt. Clawed fingertips slice through with ease, taking out the bra straps underneath as well. He makes quick work of the band beneath your chest and the underwear is then torn from your form and thrown somewhere in the background. The material of your top remains, and he yanks it down below your aching breasts, watching with rapt attention as they bounce free heavily. Barely allowing you time to moan, he lifts you higher in his arms and dives down to drag his teeth over the swollen globes. He nips and nibbles across the sensitive skin, eliciting all sorts of sounds from you and an unbearable amount of desire that shoots straight between your legs. You can feel slick arousal trickling from your aching cunt with each new miniscule bite Satoru delivers, but honestly at this point you’re too horny to be embarrassed.

“I already want everything you can give me, and more.” He bites the inside of your breast and the flesh gives easily beneath the razor-sharp point of his fangs. One of his hands comes to grip the other side of your chest while he laps and sucks at the blood welling in the wound. Your nipples are painfully hard and you feel like you could cry in relief when his long, nimble fingers begin to deliver them some much-needed attention. “I want every single part of you and I don’t want to share. This is the way I am built. I can’t do this with you again and let you go afterwards. I want you to be mine.”

You probably shouldn’t find that as romantic as you do, but aren’t really in a position to psycho-analyse your response right now. It’s not all that surprising, either, since you recall someone mentioning to you before how strongly vampires bond with their partner when they finally make their choice. As it happens, his confession serves to not only make your heart soar but your pussy throb. You’ve been pining for this man for years, so even amongst the haze of lust clouding your mind you don’t have to think about how to respond to it.

This is, after all, the solution you were hoping for two weeks ago.

“I don’t want you to let me go, or take anything back. Please bite me again, mark me up–” You pause to gasp, Satoru having shoved your skirt up to bunch around your hips. Your panties are gone a split-second later, likely discarded in the same manner as your bra, and the hand that was at your breast is now trailing your slit and gathering all the slick that has pooled there. His middle finger dips in, causing a stutter in your breath. You lean forward to whisper in his ear, snowy strands of hair tickling your cheeks as you do so. “And please, please fuck me, Satoru.”

Something snaps in him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

A feral snarl escapes him, a gravelly “fuck” the only warning you get before his teeth sink down just above your nipple, fangs retracting once blood wells to the surface, and he pulls both the wound and your stiffened peak into his mouth, sucking hard. There isn’t a single ounce of pain, only the white-hot pleasure that shoots to your clit and has you keening as a result, hands scrabbling for purchase along his broad shoulders. That free hand that was at your slit has made quick work of his pants and is now guiding his scalding member to slap against your clit, and then press against your entrance while you recover from the shock of pleasure.

You expected him to be well-endowed, and you’re not at all disappointed. Satoru’s cock is fat and long, and with one roll of his hips it spears right into you. There is no resistance, you’re far too aroused and wet for there to be any, but the feeling of being split open by such a monster quite literally knocks the breath out of you. You hardly recognise the noise that escapes you as one of your own, hands gripping the vampire’s hair and shoulder so tightly you’d be worried about hurting him if he was human. He isn’t, though, and without even noticing your grip continues drinking from you while latched to your breast, tongue pressing and rolling your aching nipple all the while.

A second is all you get to adjust to the foreign length inside you before Satoru rolls his hips back with a moan, the fat head of his cock dragging against your walls as he does so, and then slams it back in. He builds a rhythm immediately that is almost animalistic in its desperation and fervour, each thrust firm and hitting so deep inside that you honest to god think it has you seeing stars. Whines and moans tumble from your mouth, no longer able to be held back when the only thing your brain can comprehend is the sheer pleasure and ecstasy that burns and sparks along your limbs. He begins to hit a certain spot when he fucks up into your heat that has you clenching around him, slick gushing forth.

“FUCK.” He rips away from your chest to tilt his head back in a rough, stilted moan, his hands gripping and digging into the meat of your thighs where they melt into your ass. In the absence of his mouth, blood begins to dribble down the swell of your breast. His crystalline eyes are hazy and blown out in lust, brows drawn together and expression twisted in pleasure, his breath coming in pants. He is visibly barely holding it together, completely drunk on the taste and feel of you– and it simultaneously is the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “Yes, fuck, squeeze me just like that.”

You oblige, relishing in the full-body shiver that tears through him in response. He bites your name out amidst a tortured groan, hands shifting to your hips. His mouth returns to clean up the mess he left on your breast, lips latching around your nipple to suck and pull once more, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the way he suddenly begins to lift you by the hips and drop you back down on his cock in time with his thrusts. Almost. You have to bite back a scream at how fucking good it feels, the pressure and pace and just how full you feel. You can feel yourself rapidly beginning to come undone.

With the combination of his venom’s aphrodisiac effects and the sheer amount of time you’ve spent longing for this, you don’t imagine you’re going to last much longer. If the unforgiving pace of Satoru’s hips is anything to go by, you estimate the same to be the case for him.

He groans into your chest, releasing your breast to bounce in time with his thrusts, the action accompanied by an almost audible pop, and shifts his hold to free a hand. The pressure of two fingers against your clit has you crying out, body jerking at the sudden rush of pleasure – your head whips down to find him already looking at you, gaze swinging from the juncture of your thighs to your eyes. Evidently pleased by the expression he finds on your face, he continues his circling of your clit and leans his head down to trail kisses from your already-healing chest, up the column of your throat, across the line of your jaw, until he finally arrives at your lips.

“Mine,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours in a feather-light caress. His baby-blue eyes are lidded heavily and almost dazed, coherent thought lost to the throes of pleasure and his most simple instincts. He nicks your lip at the same time as he angles a particularly wonderful thrust, the head of his cock hitting against that spot that makes you see stars and release a loud, wanton cry. “You’re all mine.”

You pull back to nod rapidly, unable to form words when all you can think – all you can feel – is the throbbing pleasure of his cock splitting you open with each heavy thrust. His head follows, lips seeking your own once more. The kiss is hot, and needy, and his oversized canines scrape your bottom lip more than once, and yet all you can do is return the fervour in between moans and whines. His hand is still at work between your legs, and you feel in your bones that you’re really not going to last much longer at this rate.

Satoru releases your mouth with a final nip, and moves his head to nestle it in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He groans, low and long, and the vibration turns to a shiver as it travels over your skin. His lips begin to move.

“Say it.”

You struggle to think let alone figure out what he wants, lost in the current of your rapidly approaching orgasm. His fingers pick up speed, aided by the generous amount of arousal still gushing from your pussy in between thrusts. It takes everything you have not to scream, your hips bucking.

“Say it,” he says again, an oddly uncertain note infiltrating his rumbling gasp. He utters your name while nosing at your throat and you feel yourself melt. “Please, say it.”

Realisation as to what he is looking for hits you at the same time as your orgasm. “Fuck! I’m– I’m yours, all yours! God, fuck—“

Satoru’s pace stutters, undone by your pussy clenching and throbbing around him in a fight to keep him inside, and it takes him a moment to recover before he begins to fuck into you again in earnest, movements growing sloppy and frantic but no less punishing. It all serves to prolong the wave of absolute bliss you’re riding in the wake of what has to be the strongest orgasm of your life. Those vampiric toxins are no joke.

You wind your arms around his neck, clutching him close and trying not to lose your mind as he fucks up into you, the drag of his cock against your walls somehow even more delicious than before. He mouths at your neck, hips beginning to stutter once more. You clench around him, and he breaks. There is barely enough time for a curse to escape his mouth before its clamping on your neck, teeth digging in deep— deeper than he’s ever bitten you before— and tingling heat spreading out from the puncture sites. He gives one, two, three final, dragging thrusts, body trembling and muscles taut, before his cock throbs and he buries it inside you, spilling into you with a deep, rumbling groan against your throat.

Soft, panting moans escape you as his hips continue to roll into you softly, riding out his orgasm, and you bite back a wanton groan as you feel his cum beginning to trickle out around his softening member. As soon as he comes back to his senses to a degree, he has the presence of mind to navigate the two of you to the bed before he loses strength in his legs, his mouth slipping from your neck after he laves his tongue over the wound to seal it. Unceremoniously, he drops the two of you against the mattress, but surprisingly keeps you snugly in his hold and his length still buried inside you. Ignoring how hot that is, you decide to view the action from a purely romantic light and nearly melt into the mattress.

Vaguely, you register the thumping club beats still booming beyond the confines of the room. Evidently the party was still ongoing.

“This wasn’t how I planned for today to go,” he admits, after a few beats of contented silence. He nuzzles his face to your chest, dragging his nose across your collarbone. “I was going to talk to you tomorrow morning.”

You snort; that’s likely.

“… This is how I planned for today to go, though.”

He huffs a laugh before pressing his lips together, clearly trying not to enable you further. He allows for another few moments to pass, and in that time you let your own eyes flutter closed.

“You can’t change your mind, by the way,” he says suddenly, tone odd. You open your eyes and turn to see his crystalline gaze directed to your neck, where the latest of his bite marks sits proudly. “I may have done one of those things I can’t take back.”

You’re not sure how to tell him it’s not as bad of a thing as he thinks it to be.

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 lmk what you think!

[buttercupshands]

This is basically the worst (not in terms of quality, it's actually great in this aspect) chapter in MHA (or even MVA) to date

Twice dying at least was followed by "fuck off Hawks I had the best life the the LoV"

And... this? How the hell will this even be fixed??????

Well, this chapter turned out to be everything I was worried about (AFO reveals he gave Tomura his quirk, manipulated his whole life, and he never had any agency as a villain/person ever) and then made it worse (Tomura, the only charcater with the want, plan, & convivtion to make a better world, just mentally disintegrated).

Now our best villain has been booted from the stage, ON HIS BIRTHDAY NO LESS, to be replaced by MHA's most boring and lame. (Like what is he still doing here? He can't get Yoichi, he can't beat all the heroes...is it just spite?)

I...do not know what to do with these feelings.

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 9

[chap eight] | [all chapters here] | [chap ten]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

Author's Note | Me?? Taking another unexpected writing hiatus?? Never. But forreal, you all know how life gets. So, as a treat here's a longer chapter (that may or may not be a bit rambly) to make up for my absence. As I wrote, this just kept going and going, so I hope you all enjoy the extra few thousand words lmao

WC | 8.6k

Chapter Nine

The rest of Monday was absolute shit following your fight with Eddie. After spending the entirety of lunch break hiding out under the bleachers in an attempt to pull yourself together, facing your peers for the rest of the day was the last thing you wanted. The trek to your fifth period class was like some walk of shame, as if you were wearing some damned scarlet letter; it felt as if the entire school was watching you, waiting to see if you’d make yourself look like an idiot again or if you’d erupt. You had never felt so scrutinized before, so susceptible to judgment, but you fought tooth and nail not to give people the reaction they were hoping for.

The next day wasn’t any better. Once again, you felt the weight of everyone’s attention, you felt the pressure of all their judgment. Was this how it felt to be in Eddie’s shoes, how it felt to be a total social outcast? It was even shittier than you could have predicted, and you found yourself questioning the stupid little plan you and Eddie had been hatching that led to this.

It only grew worse as the day went on. Third period was arguably the most frustrating - you were stuck sitting next to Eddie for a whole damn hour, and he didn’t speak a single word to you. You didn’t even think it was possible for that boy to go quiet for longer than a few minutes, yet he proved you wrong, keeping his mouth zipped tight and his eyes on anything but you. Being ignored by Eddie caused your anger to flare, and if you had less self control you would’ve said something about it, would’ve given him a piece of your mind, but your frustrations had kept you, too, surprisingly silent. Or maybe it was the fear of looking stupid again.

Wednesday continued much the same way, although you felt less frustrated by everyone’s critical glances and Eddie’s willful ignorance of your existence. You thought maybe you were starting to get your shit together, that you had finally combatted all your pent up emotions and pushed them all the way down to the pit of your heart, where you'd just ignore them like you did with any challenging feelings. Hell, you were even beginning to fool yourself into thinking that you were feeling better, though deep down you knew that wasn’t true.

The worst that the week had to offer came during lunch that day, though, when you foolishly tried to approach Duncan and demand to know what the hell his deal was. You thought you had pulled yourself together well enough - you spoke with a sharp tone and a cool demeanor, but he and his gang of friends simply mocked your attempts at an argument. They did everything they could to make you feel small, but you kept it together, retreating from their harsh words with all the poise you could muster, hoping that your anger wasn’t too obvious. Their laughter and whispers wouldn't get to you, or at least you'd never show it - the whole school already saw you vulnerable once, it was not about to happen again.

 Consider your reputation officially fucking ruined. 

The thing that hurt more than any of their insults and derogatory words, however, was the look on Eddie’s face as you two met eyes across the lunch room, the way he watched you as you tried to march away from Duncan with your pride still intact. Eddie had been witness to the entire shitty interaction, you realized as you kept your eyes locked on his; the worry and concern so clear on his face caused a crack in your otherwise icy exterior, and you had to rip your gaze away so he couldn't see the hurt in your expression. You nearly broke down the very moment you were out of the cafeteria, the look on Eddie’s face burned into your mind.

The rest of the day was a fucking blur, and you were so emotionally worked up that you were grateful to leave school and go to the one place that could normally calm you down - the ice rink. Wednesday was always your skating day, and today you felt like you needed it more desperately than usual, thankful to spend a few hours on the ice after school. In all your moments of frustration, skating always did wonders to even you out, reminding you why you still enjoyed it after all these years - it helped calm your nerves, clear your head, and relax your heart. It helped to de-escalate your emotions, to make you think straight, and after how hard the past couple of days were, you desperately needed that.

Your anger at Duncan was still burning hot as ever, and even as you slowly relaxed you were still desperate to get back at him, not above stooping to his level. You’d have to corner him when he was alone, without his posse to back him up - then you could really hurt him with your scathing words. You also couldn’t help but wonder just how involved Amelia and Janet were in all this shit - if anything, this stunt was Amelia’s idea, but Janet? She couldn’t have been this cold and heartless; or maybe you just desperately hoped she wasn't.

As you looped around the ice far less elegantly than you normally would, you tried your damnedest not to think about Eddie, as if ignoring the thought of him would somehow remove you from fault. Now that you’ve actually had time to think about it, you knew you’d been mean to him just for the sake of it, just to let your frustrations out on someone. A younger you wouldn't have cared that you mistreated someone, would've just waved it off like a brat and moved on with your life. Hell, only a few months ago, you probably would've still found it comical to talk down to someone like Eddie the way that you did.

But you were not that girl anymore, although you also weren't emotionally ready to acknowledge that Eddie didn’t deserve your vitriol; after all, you were mean to just about everyone, what made him any different? You knew that you’d treated him badly simply because it was easy, because he was the only person there and you needed to let it out. The less prideful part of you knew that you were wrong for that, but that side of you had thus far been outweighed by your own stubbornness. Now, however, you were starting to think maybe you needed to do something about it.

On the one hand, you considered that you had no obligation to make things right with Eddie, and yet, something about that upset you. Were you really so terrible and bitchy that you’d avoid apologizing to him? Were you going to simply ignore him, if not treat him even worse than you’d already had been? That’s certainly something you would have done in the past, but somehow Eddie fucking Munson had made you a little less harsh than you once were.

No, you didn’t need to make this right, but you wanted to. Somehow, Eddie had undeniably grown on you, and at this rate he was virtually the only person you had on your side (that is, of course, if you don’t take into account his ignoring you the past two days). If anyone had even suggested a month ago that you’d be getting along so well with Eddie Munson, you probably would have gagged. What could you and a guy like him possibly have in common, what could you two possibly bond over? These were questions that you were still seeking answers to, even as you drove home after hours of skating at the rink.

Perhaps it was your sense of humor, so much more aligned with his than either of you had expected. Or maybe it was the effortlessness with which you could talk to one another, like you’d already known each other far longer than a few weeks. Hell, maybe it was that Eddie challenged you without even being mean about it, how he so simply gave you new perspectives to take into account and made you reconsider things you thought you knew.

It was strange to realize that, in your own way, you two had become almost-friends quite rapidly. Was that normal? Did other people feel so at ease with someone they’d known for only a few short weeks? You couldn’t remember what it was like when you became friends with Amelia or Janet or anyone else that ran in your former circle - had you bonded with them just as easily as you had with Eddie? Something in you suspected no.

But you tried to avoid thinking about that too much, because you certainly weren’t going to dig into it any deeper.

As you walked through the front door of your home, the silence of the house confirmed to you that your father was still, supposedly, at work. The only time you heard the buzz of electronics throughout the house was when he was around, because your mom never left a television or radio on unnecessarily. You’d bet that she was probably in the kitchen with the radio down low, just a bit of background noise to keep her company as she prepped for dinner. Or maybe she was on the phone in the home office, chatting away with one of her friends about the latest gossip in town.

You hated to admit it, but you and your mom were both used to your father not being around often - most days, he was gone before you left for school and didn’t return home until well into the evening. This had been the family’s routine for years now, so your father’s lack of interest in spending time at home no longer phased you. His absence was just as routine as your school schedule or your mom’s biweekly nail appointments.

You found it far more surprising when he was around - in fact, it almost dared to make you suspicious of him. Because you figured he never seemed interested in spending time with you or your mom, you couldn’t help but speculate what would prompt him to suddenly spend every night at the dinner table for a couple weeks, or to even suggest the family go out together on the weekend. You assumed it was some form of guilt - for a while now, you had yourself convinced that he was having an affair, so perhaps his brief bouts of attentiveness were his measly efforts to reconcile his infidelity with himself.

Of course, you’d never dare even imply this suspicion to your mother, for all you knew it could send her spiraling. And a part of you was convinced that perhaps she’d had her suspicions as well.

As you closed the front door behind you and slid out of your sneakers, you had every intention of running off to your room to avoid your mom entirely. After the week you’d had thus far, you’d rather be left alone, you didn’t want to get caught up in her usual superficial conversations. But before you could even take a step towards the staircase, your mom zipped out of the kitchen towards you, an eager shine in her eyes that almost made her appear younger. You gave her a quizzical look, taking a step back as she got just a little closer than you cared for; even with your parents, you preferred people stay at arm’s length.

“How was your day, hon?” She asked as if in anticipation of something. Your face twisted with even more confusion - what the hell was she so excited about? Was she really that oblivious to the funk you’d been in the past three days?

You stepped around your mom, intending to end this conversation quickly so you could disappear to your room. Your tone was dismissive as you replied coldly, “Not great.”

Her joy seemed to falter a little as she followed just a step behind you; clearly, whatever she wanted to talk about seemed to be important to her, “What do you mean?”

You paused to look back at her again, your agitation clear on your face as you studied her. You weren’t certain, but it seemed as if she were expecting a different response - a particular response. What exactly was she fishing for?

“Today sucked. Just like the rest of this shitty week.” Your tone was cold as you raised your brow, hoping that your attitude may deter her from asking anymore questions. Your callous word choice caused her to pull a face, studying your expression as if she were seeing you for the first time in a long time. For a moment, you thought maybe she’d actually act like your mother, you thought maybe she’d ask you what was wrong and offer a shoulder to cry on.

“I figured it’d be good,” she started with concern in her voice, putting on something of an encouraging smile, “considering the assembly on Monday.”

Dread immediately washed over you, her words causing your heart to drop into your stomach - how did she know about the assembly? The school wouldn’t have called the parents about it, they didn’t care that much. Maybe one of her friends had heard from their kid and then told her? Possibly, but not the most likely. So, how did she know?

All you could do was stare for a few tense moments, fighting to keep in all the feelings you’d just worked through on the ice rink. Your jaw tightened as you swallowed hard, attempting to quiet your mind and take a deep breath. Your intense eyes burned into your mother, who seemed to recognize that what she’d just said may have been a mistake.

“How do you know about that?” You probed with an edge to your voice, feeling as if all your emotions were going to come spilling out of you at any minute.

Although she appeared hesitant, your mom kept her composure, persisting to act bright in the foolish hopes that it would help you relax, “Amelia called while you were out.”

If your heart could drop any further, it would have. You began to feel almost out of body as you started to piece it all together, already realizing Amelia’s fucking game. She knew you wouldn’t have mentioned your dissolved friendship to your mother because of your distant relationship with your parents, and now she was using it against you. To what end? Simply to torment you more?

Receiving no response from you, your mother smiled encouragingly, still trying her hardest to keep things chipper as she continued, “She wanted to know if I’d like to be a chaperone for homecoming. She seemed so excited that both of you were nominated for homecoming queen!”

Your jaw clenched in anger, eyes growing harsher as they burnt into your mother. You had no reason to be mad at her, but at that moment your rage was coming back up, clawing its way out of you. It took everything in your power not to shout expletives in her face.

So, you turned away from her, trying to collect yourself by taking a few deep breaths. From over your shoulder, your mom continued, trying in vain to understand what was going on with you, “Honey, what’s wrong? This should be exciting news.”

You whipped around angrily, but bit your tongue as you two stared at one another, you in vexation and your mom in concern. You took one more deep breath while rolling your eyes, looking away again.

“Did Amelia tell you who I was nominated with? Or that we haven’t spoken a word to each other in nearly two weeks?” As your frustration bubbled, you met her eyes again, “Or that I was only nominated as some shitty prank? Did she mention that I ran out of the gym like a fucking coward because of how humiliated I felt?”

Your mother’s face was awash with concern as she looked between your eyes, and for a moment you really did think she’d comfort you, in fact, you were almost hoping for it. But that was quickly squashed, “Will you please watch your language? You don’t have to get so worked up.”

The upset on your face only increased - despite everything else you said, your language was the thing that concerned her most? You scoffed with frustration, shaking your head in disbelief as you all but shoved past her, keeping your wild eyes away from hers.

“You don’t even care!” You said venomously, stomping back towards your belongings left by the front door. Haphazardly, you shoved your feet into your shoes and dug around for your keys, “I’m not good right now, mom, and all you’re worried about is my fucking language! Do you care how I’m feeling?”

With a flustered look, your mom approached you, “Of course I care, but I can’t even understand you anymore! You’ve been so different recently, so much more distant. How am I supposed to know what’s going on if you won’t tell me?”

You simply shook your head, throwing your bag back on your shoulder once you had your keys. As you swung open the front door, it bounced off the wall, causing your mother to gasp at the aggressive act.

“Where are you going!?” She insisted while following you outside. You didn’t dare look back, marching towards your car as your anger continued to bubble over.

“Anywhere but here!” As you whipped around to the driver side door, you finally looked at your mother, who lingered on the front steps with a disappointed and confused expression. You were sure you looked absolutely wild and irate as you flung open the car door, carelessly tossing your bag inside and holding your mother’s gaze.

You could see that she was trying to make sense of the chaos happening right now, trying her best to keep it together as if that would calm you down now after everything that just happened. She wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so emotional and out of control - she’d seen you angrier these past couple weeks than you’d been your entire fucking life.

“Please just come back inside.” She tried earnestly, but you were too far gone to hear any of it. You ripped your gaze from hers and slammed the car door once you were settled into the seat, zipping out of the driveway fast enough that you nearly hit the mailbox.

You didn’t make it far, though, having to pull over only a minute later because you realized you were on the verge of crying. Fuck, when was the last time that had happened? You were never the type to get emotional like this, but shit, you’d had a stressful week. You had to catch your breath, to hold back your tears of anger, slamming your fists on the steering wheel a few times as if that could make everything better. You didn’t dare let a single tear roll down your face, but they were so welled up in your eyes that you could barely see, forcing you to blink and wipe them away.

What the hell were you doing? Where did you expect to go? These melodramatics felt fucking ridiculous, and you tried to convince yourself you were freaking out over nothing, although your emotions were clearly telling you otherwise. You couldn’t keep acting like this, you wouldn’t allow it - it wasn’t you, and it made you feel weak.

But shit, you felt like your world had been crashing down around you all week, and it was impossible to keep it together right now. So, you pounded your fists against the dashboard, hissing foul words while continuing to fight back everything that was swirling in your chest. You were certain that if any of your neighbors walked by your haphazardly parked car, they’d think you were having a total mental break. And maybe you were; fuck if you knew. You weren’t exactly thinking clearly right now.

After what felt like an eternity, you’d exhausted all your rage, dejectedly catching your breath and attempting to regain your composure. Shit, what were you going to do now? There’s no way in hell you’d go back home - you weren’t ready to deal with your mother again so soon. Or worse, your father, whose temper would simply set you off again.

As you swallowed down the lump in your throat, you couldn’t help but think of your fight with Eddie, and without any hesitation you accepted that right now you missed him. If you weren't so emotional, you'd have stopped to consider how strange that was. Maybe the past few days wouldn’t have been such shit if you’d just been nicer to him; maybe this was karma at work, making you miserable for how you treated him.

You had to apologize to Eddie. Right fucking now.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

As you drove through Forest Hills, you realized you’d never once set foot in a trailer park before. Looking out your windshield at the dark street, you were certain that one trailer home would maybe fill only two bedrooms of your own home. How people lived in such close quarters was something you couldn’t even comprehend, and on a normal night maybe you would’ve lingered on that thought. But considering that you came here on a mission, you were unable to become distracted; no, the anxiety that was rapidly growing in your chest kept you laser focused on the task you set out on.

It wasn’t until you reached this side of Hawkins that your fear began to mount - should you really be showing up to Eddie’s place unannounced? Is this terrible timing? What if his uncle was home? The further into Forest Hills you drove, the more worried you became. For all you knew, Eddie would slam the door in your face, tell you to fuck off and leave him alone. And after all the shit you’d dealt with this week, you couldn’t handle any more rejection.

Maybe you should just turn around and get out of here while you still have the chance.

But as that thought crossed your mind, you spotted Eddie’s van in front of one of the trailers, and your heart rate sped up to a frankly concerning pace. Shit, it was now or never. Turn back around and head home or face Eddie and his possible rejection. Frankly, both options sounded fucking awful.

For a few long moments, you simply lingered on the road, staring at Eddie’s trailer as your heart drummed in your chest; your eyes roved over the illuminated windows, half expecting to see Eddie’s silhouette appear in one of them any second now. But when no visual indicator of him appeared, you shook yourself back to the present, pulling up alongside his van with the brief thought that maybe he saw your headlights. You hesitated at that, waiting yet again to see if he’d appear in the window or at the door. Fuck, if you were going to be this nervous, you might as well just get out of here.

But you knew you couldn’t do that. You knew you had to talk to Eddie again, you had to have at least one decent relationship in your life right now. Considering that he was the closest thing you had to a friend at the moment, you had to make amends with him. Not that Eddie owed you any forgiveness, of course - again, the fear that he’d want nothing to do with you came creeping back up, even as you pulled the keys from the ignition and slowly stepped out of the car.

Fuck, what were you going to do if Eddie didn’t want to talk? You didn’t think you could manage to survive the rest of the week if he didn’t forgive you. Despite trying to ignore the thought, in a way you realized that right now you needed Eddie.

This shit better work.

You felt almost shaky as you approached the front door, hearing thrashing metal music reverberating inside the trailer. You had to take another pause at the door to collect yourself - you were not nervous like this, and you refused to appear this nervous in front of anyone. You were here to apologize, not to be vulnerable. So, you pulled yourself together with a few deep breaths, marching up to the door and knocking strongly before you could think to hesitate any longer. Considering how loud the music was, you realized Eddie probably didn't hear you, so you roughly pounded your fist against the door once again. You put on a brave face, taking one more deep breath as the music quieted and someone approached the door.

Of course, once you and Eddie locked eyes, you suddenly froze. All the things you’d rehearsed on the way over here momentarily left your head as you took in his surprised expression, the look in his eyes that suggested you were the last person he expected to see on his doorstep. For what felt like hours, the two of you stared at one another as you attempted to collect your thoughts, attempted to keep all your hurt from showing on your face.

You eventually had to rip your eyes away from Eddie, maybe then you could finally find your voice again. As you stared at his feet, you straightened out your back and clenched your jaw, trying to quiet your mind and get out at least one coherent thought. With a deep breath, you flicked your gaze back to his face.

“Can we talk?” Your voice came out strong, if not a little cold - good, at least you didn’t sound as weak as you’d been feeling recently.

Eddie’s expression was still a little taken aback, even as he tried to put on a calm, collected air. Had you not caught him so off guard, perhaps you would’ve been fooled by the lazy smirk he gave you or his seemingly relaxed posture. But given the look of near astonishment that was on his face only a moment prior, you knew he was probably just as unprepared for this conversation as you were.

“Well, since you drove all the way here…” Eddie trailed off in what was meant to be a casual tone, stepping to the side and nodding his head towards the trailer behind him. You looked between his eyes and the entryway for a moment before stepping up into his home, immediately taking it all in attentively - it was easier to focus on your surroundings than to focus on him and your emotions.

You weren’t sure what you had expected of Eddie’s home, but as you stood in his small living room, everything appeared exactly as it should have - the place was cozy, decorated with items that were clearly personal, reflecting the taste of someone so unlike your own family. Back in your own home, the art on the wall was perfectly curated by your mother, the only photos being staged family portraits; the furniture was also meticulously decided on, meant to look cohesive and clean and modern.

Here in the Munson trailer, the space actually felt lived in - the coffee table was stacked with car magazines and western paperbacks, the walls adorned with collections of hats and mugs. The furniture was worn from years of use, the kitchen was cluttered, a fold out bed was pushed off to one side - yes, this home actually had life to it, unlike the stale living environment you were so used to. Without having met the man, you already had a strong sense of Eddie’s uncle just by looking around the place.

The more you looked at the Munson home, the more your curiosity grew - you wanted to ask more about Eddie and his uncle and all the little details that made them a family. But before you could get to know any more about Eddie, first you had to actually make things right with him. So, you turned your attention back to him, briefly catching the self-conscious look on his face that he very quickly corrected - did he feel judged, having you in his home like this? Was he worried what you’d think now that you had this more intimate glimpse at his life?

The two of you stared at one another for a few long moments; Eddie was clearly anticipating what you’d say next, and you were still trying to decide where exactly to start. You raised a brow as you let out a breath, forcing yourself to look away again so you could actually speak - looking Eddie in the eye like this made it harder to apologize.

“I shouldn’t have acted like that.” You started, letting your gaze continue to roam over trinkets and decor in the living room. Off to your side, you heard Eddie hum in acknowledgement instead of saying anything, which seemed to be your cue to continue. You sighed a little, forcing yourself to be honest, hard as it may be; your voice was a touch quieter as you added, “You didn’t deserve that shit.”

“No, I didn’t.” Eddie responded with a hint of harshness to his tone, but considering the circumstances, he didn’t sound nearly as mad as you’d expected. You slowly spun around, looking anywhere but his direction so your words would come more easily.

“I… like having you around.” The sentence sounded juvenile to your ears, but you simply continued, “I know all I wanted was to stir shit up and be left alone, but the past couple days--”

You had to cut yourself off, suddenly feeling a sadness well up in your throat - you were not about to break, not right now, not in front of Eddie. So, you swallowed hard and tried to calm down before he could see the chink in your armor.

“Not so fun being on the other side of things, huh?” Eddie chimed in, saving you from yourself with his comment. You turned to him with a nod, hoping your eyes didn’t give too much away.

“Fucking sucks, actually.” You managed a small, sad smile. It looked as if Eddie, too, wanted to mirror the expression, but he kept it to himself. You took in his posture, his crossed arms and guarded look, hoping that you were getting through to him.

You let out a sigh, your gaze drifting down to the floor as you struggled to find your words. God, being sincere shouldn’t be so damn hard, but you were never one to admit your faults, never the type to open up easily. Despite your usual confidence and brashness, you couldn’t even seem to form proper sentences right now.

“I forgive you.” Those three simple words drew a surprised look from you, to which Eddie shrugged as he continued, looking away with a coolness that surely had to be for show, “Your apology could use some work, seeing as you couldn’t even say ‘sorry,’ but you were forgiven the second I opened that door.”

That last statement was shockingly honest and somehow a touch too vulnerable for your liking - it made you nervous, and you couldn’t say why. Was Eddie just being hyperbolic, saying that to make you feel better? Or was it the truth, could he have possibly been willing to forgive you just like that simply because you showed up on his doorstep? Both of those ideas made you apprehensive in vastly different ways.

With a quick shake of your head, you tried to pull yourself together, straightening your shoulders and wiping the vulnerable look from your face. You met Eddie’s kind eyes with as much coolness as you could muster, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that you were relieved with how this conversation had gone. There was a glint of amusement in Eddie’s face as he watched you, as if he knew exactly what was going through your head, as if he knew your calm demeanor was all for show.

Eddie looked down, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, “So long as you don’t drag me to that stupid homecoming, we’ll be alright.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at the suggestion, thankful that Eddie made the effort to break the tension in the room - you were done trying to be vulnerable, and it seemed that he could sense that, too.

“As if I’d let myself be the Carrie White of their shitty joke.” You gave Eddie a playful glance, catching the way his brow furrowed.

“Carrie, huh?”

You also gave him a look, “Yeah, you know - telekinetic chick who killed everyone at prom?”

The smile that graced Eddie’s lips was nearly infectious as he laughed with a shake of his head, “Oh, I know Carrie, I’m just surprised that you do - you don’t seem the horror type.”

You cross your arms teasingly - it was so easy to fall back into this pattern with Eddie, easy to bounce off each other. Admittedly, you missed it.

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” You counter with a small smirk, to which Eddie gave you a challenging look.

“Well, it would help if you opened up a little more, princess.” The nickname rolled off Eddie’s tongue with ease, and it was a relief to hear it - that had to mean you really were forgiven, that he hadn't just said so to make you feel better. Even still, you narrowed your eyes, prompting Eddie to continue in his defense, “I know nothing about your hobbies, but you know practically all of mine.”

You looked him up and down once, “You know that I skate.”

Eddie rolled his eyes teasingly, although he sounded deathly serious as he said, “There’s clearly more to you than that.”

The sincerity in Eddie’s tone juxtaposed his playful look, giving you pause, making you nervous. You answered simply and with a dismissive shrug, hoping it didn't lead into some deeper conversation, “Guess that makes you the first person to notice.”

You turned away from Eddie to continue looking around, taking in the room as you debated whether or not you’d elaborate on your interests. Considering that Eddie made a good point about not knowing you well, you caved - after all, did you want him as a friend or not?

“I love horror movies.” You take a few steps towards a shelf filled with videos and cassettes, your eyes slowly looking over the titles, “Books, too, but the movies are way scarier, so they’re more fun.”

A few familiar horror titles sat on the shelf, causing you to grin and glance back at Eddie, who seemed to be watching you attentively. Realizing he was caught staring, he quickly righted himself and met your gaze, his curious smile growing. You could see in his face that questions were forming, that he probably wanted to ask what you liked about horror or what movie was your favorite. Expectantly, you turned to face him with an eager raise of your brow.

Eddie looked between your eyes for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what to say first, finally nudging his chin towards the VHS collection on the shelf, “You pick a movie, I’ll order us a pizza?”

You couldn’t help but be surprised at the suggestion - for two days you didn’t speak a word to each other, but again you were reminded of just how effortless it was to go back to the way things were. You smiled in appreciation for Eddie’s ability to make anything easy like this.

As much as you loved the idea, you hesitated, “It’s getting kinda late…”

Eddie waved it off before you could say anything else, “So? My uncle won’t be back for hours, and I don’t think either of us has anything better going on.”

So, you nodded, eagerly turning your attention back to the small collection of movies on the shelf - you wondered which ones were Eddie’s and which were his uncle’s. Quickly, you settled on a movie that you were excited to see there, grabbing it from the shelf and spinning to face Eddie as he dialed the nearest pizza place. You felt like an excited child as you held up Videodrome for him to see. Again, Eddie appeared surprised, but didn’t get the chance to comment as he was greeted by someone on the other end of the call. He probably wouldn’t have guessed Cronenberg to be your taste in horror.

With the pizza ordered and the movie loaded into the VCR, you and Eddie settled on opposite ends of the couch. Within a minute of the movie starting, however, you couldn’t help yourself as you began to eagerly go on and on about how technically impressive the effects in this movie were. You weren’t sure how long you went on for, but after a while you realized you were going on a tangent, cutting yourself off as you looked at Eddie for the inevitable judgment to come. You’d grown used to your friends rolling their eyes or your mom telling you to stop talking about disgusting horror movies, but Eddie looked so… attentive? So interested to listen to what you were saying?

You looked back at the screen almost sheepishly, but you could still feel the burn of Eddie’s eyes watching you.

“You’re kind of a nerd.” He said with far too much glee, causing you to whip your mean gaze back to him; Eddie was smiling from ear-to-ear, clearly pleased with himself and his discovery of your hidden interest.

“I am not.” You scoff, trying not to grin back at him. Eddie leaned across the couch as if to emphasize his taunting, his eyes challenging as he stared at you.

“You just spent five minutes talking about how much you love to watch a fake head blow up - seems kinda nerdy.”

It felt as if no rift had ever formed between you two, as if you hadn’t just been awkwardly trying to apologize to him some fifteen minutes ago. Eddie just made it ridiculously easy to relax, to forget all the bullshit from the past few days.

You gave Eddie’s shoulder a playful shove, so he sat back up in his seat, that wicked grin still on his face, “What, don’t want to be lumped in with the rest of us?”

Despite trying to give Eddie a threatening look, you knew your eyes were betraying you - all of the menace in your expression was destroyed by the way your eyes blatantly shone with amusement. You had to look away again, otherwise you feared you might laugh.

“Liking horror doesn’t make me a nerd.” You insisted.

“No, but considering you made a whole speech about how impactful Cronenberg’s use of gore is, I wouldn’t call you a casual fan.” Eddie teased, and even without looking you knew just how big his grin was.

So, you kept your eyes trained on the screen, hoping to become absorbed in the movie as you tried to ignore the way Eddie was studying you. And it worked for at least a few minutes - you began to smile at the familiar film, attentively following the story development, all the while slowly forgetting about the eyes practically burning a hole in your skull.

But in his typical fashion, Eddie couldn’t stay quiet for too long.

“Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers?”

Without missing a beat, you looked back at Eddie, unable to hold your tongue on the debate. Your tone was perhaps a little snobby as you answered, “Michael, obviously.”

Again, Eddie grinned largely with a challenge in his eye, “‘Obviously?’”

Of course, you knew what he was doing - he was clearly trying to poke at you, but damn it, it was working. You couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk about movie slashers to a captive audience, even if said audience was likely going to keep egging you on.

You rolled your eyes, folding your legs up on the couch as you turned your body towards Eddie, “Jason isn’t scary.”

“Not scary? He and Michael are basically the same guy.” You pulled a face at the comment, noticing that Eddie seemed pleased with himself for getting you going on the subject.

“And I guess you think they’re also just like Bubba?” Eddie grinned wickedly, so you quickly reached over to smack his shoulder, “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Say what?”

You narrowed your eyes, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to debate your point. You took a deep breath before looking back towards the movie, “Michael is better, end of conversation.”

“I’m more of a Freddy guy myself.” Eddie taunts, clearly not done tormenting you. You shot him a look from the corner of your eye, but didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of a response, trying to keep your attention on the movie instead. A minute later, Eddie chimed up again, “The Exorcist or the Omen?”

To that, you didn’t have as quick an answer, mulling it over for a moment before replying - when you answered with the Exorcist, Eddie couldn’t help but say that response was predictable.

So, it led you down the rabbit hole, Videodrome being totally forgotten in favor of debating your horror opinions. For every answer to Eddie’s questions, he had a counterargument - it didn’t matter whether or not you two agreed on something, he clearly just wanted to get you riled up. Maybe he enjoyed seeing you get excited about something, maybe he enjoyed the way you’d argue your case on characters you loved and hated.

When the pizza arrived, you raced Eddie to the door, paying for the food despite his protests, the pair of you clearly annoying the delivery driver who didn’t give a shit where the money came from so long as he got it. All through your meal, you two continued talking over the movie, which eventually reached its end and prompted Eddie to start playing another that you also wouldn’t pay any attention to.

As the night wore on, your debates eventually died down; your seat on the couch became increasingly more comfortable, and the shitty horror movie you had on was beginning to lull you to sleep. Considering how long your day - no, your whole week - had been, you were surprised it took this long for your exhaustion to set in. So, you slowly settled into the couch, progressively slumping into the cushions.

Seeing the tired look on your face, Eddie nudged you and insisted you lie down, and you were tired enough not to argue, resting on your side so you can continue watching the movie. You keep your legs curled up to avoid getting in Eddie’s space, but nonetheless your knees rest comfortable against his thigh. At some point between half awake and half asleep, you thought that maybe you felt his hand resting comfortably on your leg, but you were too tired to say for sure.

As the night wore on, you must have inevitably fallen asleep, because next thing you knew, you were being pulled out of a dream, a hand gently shaking your shoulder and Eddie’s far off voice encouraging you to wake up. You figured at first that the voice was just a part of your dream, but as the tone grew more clear and insistent, you were brought back to reality. Groggily, you blinked your eyes open with a confused glare - how long had you been out for? And what time was it?

Catching your eyes with his, the corner of Eddie’s mouth pulled back in a small grin, “Jesus, you sleep like the dead.”

A tired moan rumbled in your throat as your eyes narrowed. You tried to roll onto your other side as if you could somehow avoid Eddie that way, your words nonthreatening and heavy with sleep, “Fuck off…”

As Eddie sighed with annoyance, an unfamiliar huff of a laugh met your ears, but you weren’t nearly awake enough to even wonder who it belonged to. Eddie pulled at your shoulder so you couldn’t turn away from him, to which you whined again.

“No, you’re not sleeping on the couch, it’ll ruin your back.” Eddie insisted, teasingly pulling at your arm - if you weren’t still half asleep, it wouldn’t have annoyed you nearly as much as it did, “Come on, get up.”

You opened your harsh eyes again, knowing Eddie wouldn’t allow himself to be ignored. As your eyes adjusted, his face slowly came into focus, his hair haloed by the light of the TV; kneeling beside you, he was clearly trying to hide the amusement he found in your sleepy attitude.

The two of you stared at one another for a long minute as the fog slowly lifted from your brain, making you more and more aware of your surroundings. Your gaze drifted away from Eddie, noticing movement in the corner of your eye; turning in the direction of it, you made eye contact with a man who had to have been Eddie’s uncle. He quickly turned away, pretending to be preoccupied with something in the kitchen, as if that would give you and Eddie a measly sense of privacy.

With a deep yawn, you looked at Eddie again, begrudgingly accepting that you had to get up. You slowly rose into a seated position, your feet brushing Eddie’s leg as you moved to set them on the ground; he rose and took a step back to give you a little more space. Stretching your arms above your head and popping your neck, you looked between the two men, noticing that Eddie seemed to be somewhat sheepish, which made you curious. Was he embarrassed that this was how you and his uncle were meeting? Was it because he felt like you two were caught doing something wrong? Or was it something else entirely that influenced that expression on his face?

You sighed heavily as you rose to your feet, your face scrunching up a little as you looked around the room; your voice was still heavy with sleep as you asked, “What time is it? I have to go home.”

Eddie shook his head at the same moment that his uncle silently disappeared to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running drifting out from under the door; maybe he was trying to give you two a bit more privacy.

“You don’t have to go.” Eddie says in a surprisingly gentle tone, to which you furrow your brow, “It’s late and you're exhausted - just stay here tonight.”

You weakly tried to protest, although you were so tired that it was a relief to hear that Eddie wasn’t kicking you out in the wee hours of the morning, “I really shouldn’t.”

“You really should.” Eddie insisted, clearly not open to argument. Luckily for him, you accepted the response instantly, your head still too foggy to find a good enough reason to leave. So, you nod smally while trying to stifle another yawn.

Eddie points his hand in the direction of the bedroom, and you immediately accept the invitation, confidently heading that way as if you owned the damn place. You didn’t catch the tug of a smile that graced Eddie’s lips as he followed just a step behind you.

You entered the dark bedroom and all but collapsed onto the bed, hearing a slight laugh leave Eddie’s lips; at least he found it funny instead of rude, not that you were terribly concerned with that right now. No, the only thing on your mind at the moment was curling into the mattress and sleeping undisturbed for the rest of the night. You comfortably wrapped your arms around one of Eddie’s pillows, inhaling his lingering scent without considering what you were doing. 

“You gonna sleep in that?” Eddie teased, reminding you that you were still in the workout clothes that you wore for skating. Like a stubborn child unwilling to do a task, you grunted, sitting back up and trying to find Eddie in the dark. You caught his silhouette digging through what you assumed to be a pile of clothes, eventually pulling something out and tossing it in your direction. The t-shirt weakly hit you in the chest before falling into your lap, so you started to pull off your own soiled shirt, letting it fall forgotten somewhere on the floor.

Light still filtered into the room through the gap in the door, so you caught the way Eddie spun around to give you privacy just as you started to tug at your bra; you couldn’t help but smile, finding it funny as he pushed the door closed. After all, it was dark enough that he probably couldn’t see anything; and even if he could, it didn’t matter. Right?

Eddie kept himself preoccupied, returning his attention to the stack of clothes as you pulled his scratchy t-shirt over your head; thanks to the darkness of the room, you didn’t catch the way he glanced back at you curiously. Once you were comfortable, you lied back down and began to burrow in the blankets, pulling them over your head as you listened to Eddie strip out of his own clothes.

A few moments later, one of the blankets was being yanked from the bed; you greedily tried to grab it before it was gone, but to no avail, which prompted you to poke your head out from the cocoon you’d built. You couldn’t quite find Eddie in the dark, but you nonetheless furrowed your brow in the direction you figured he was in.

“What are you doing?” You questioned groggily as your eyes began to adjust; you could now make out Eddie’s shadow as he appeared to turn to you.

“Sleeping on the floor.” He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, nudging things aside with his foot before dropping the blanket to the ground. As he leaned over the bed to grab a pillow, you rolled your eyes and reached out to nudge him, making contact with bare skin before shuffling over to make room on the small bed.

“Like hell you are.” You attempted to snuggle into your new position, but seeing Eddie awkwardly lingering prompted you to reach over and give his arm a quick tug, “Get the fuck in the bed, Munson.”

Eddie hesitated a moment longer, and although he couldn’t see it, you stared at him in amused scrutiny. With a huff, you threw aside the blankets and hit the mattress once for emphasis, “Don’t tell me you’re nervous to share a bed with a girl.”

You readjusted to face away from Eddie, wrapping your arms around your pillow again and burying your face in it, getting cozy almost instantly. Behind you, he sighed before his weight shifted the mattress; just from the feel of his movements, you knew Eddie was awkwardly trying to stay as close to the edge of the bed as possible. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a smile at how stiff he was - at this rate, he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep.

“Stop worrying about it, Eddie.” You muttered gently, curling up in the blankets as if you were a cat lying in the sun. A big yawn escaped you as you felt Eddie shift a little, and you knew you’d be out like a light any minute now, “Try to get some sleep, okay?”Eddie hummed in acknowledgement, and despite his best efforts to keep his distance, you could still feel his body heat radiating near you. Smiling comfortably to yourself, you quickly began to doze off, barely catching Eddie’s whispered “Night, princess…” before you fell back into a deep sleep.

.

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addt. Author's Note | I couldn't keep these two apart for even an entire chapter, so I hope their lil reconciliation was worth the wait!

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She’ll be There

Sevika x Female Reader

Headcannons || Angst + Fluff

Cw: Mentions of self-harm (not fully described, I know it can be triggering), self sabotage, and mentions of binge eating disorder. Modern setting. Sevika has both arms (though it doesn’t have anything to do with the plot). Not a lot of in depth details, only because I didn’t want it to be uncomfortable or triggering.

Proofread || Note: It surprised me when I noticed there’s barely any recognition of binge eating disorder. And, so, I decided to write about it. Really sucks that a lot of people don’t even know that it exists. Also, no, I am NOT romanticizing sh and ed, this is just for readers who find comfort in these kinds of fanfics; ones who relate. (Also because I struggle with it.)

Sevika was one of those girlfriends who made you question if you really deserved her. One of those girlfriends that made you so happy that you were sure that all of it was all some sort of dream. She took care of you when you weren’t well. When you needed comfort and support. She was there regardless. You were a priority much greater than anything else, she loved you more than anything else.

But, there was always a sense of guilt that tugged at you whenever she showed affection. It was unfair to her that she had to do so much compared to other couples. It was like being a burden, a broken tool that wouldn’t fix. A tool that had to patched up daily, made sure it didn’t break itself again. You were sure she’d get tired.

But that day never came.

A healthy relationship with food was what you strived for. What you could only try your best for. Not even a few minutes after eating you were hungry again. Well, you weren’t actually hungry. Your stomach was half full and you weren’t needing more. It was just you being bored and eating being a way for you to comfort yourself. It was a coping mechanism that you’d picked up at a young age; and never noticed how horrible it was for you.

Sevika was aware of your problem, of the issues you had with food, and how it was difficult it was for you not to turn to food for distraction.

When you were upset, you’d grab yourself a plate of leftovers. When you were angry, you’d have a bowl of chips in your lap and munch on it. Even when you were happy, you’d make yourself some pasta. And, undoubtedly, your girlfriend was worried with the amount of food you’d eat in such a short amount of time.

Gradually, she decided to do something about it. Convincing you to tag along with her whenever she went out, making plans to go to your favourite bookstore, and even taking you shopping. She tried her hardest to distract you.

Sevika didn’t know much about your eating disorder, but she did her research. Reading books, searching online, and even asking you your struggle.

She’d ask you how you felt about the whole thing. What you thought. How you felt when you didn’t indulge in the urge and it felt after you ate. Your girlfriend had a lot of questions and you did your best at answering them. Some of them were ones you’d never thought of asking yourself, they had you thinking. And you appreciated her efforts in understanding.

Sevika would even cook your favourite food whenever you were genuinely hungry. She’d go on youtube and learn recipes for you, even make desserts so she knew you were full. Most of her attention would be on you, making sure your body was satisfied with your intake.

There was never a time where you felt that your girlfriend was tired of the extra care she gave you. In all honesty, that woman loved all of it. Doing small things for you, like making sure the proportions she prepared for you were perfect, like making sure your plate was full of the essentials; carbs, fibers, fats, all those good things.

And, at first, Sevika thought she’d made progress, made you better. But, on the day she found you in the bathroom with your wrists red was the day she assumed the worse. She thought, maybe, she’d made you feel a sort of way. Thought she’d made it worse. Thought she’d hurt your feelings and had pressured you.

She wrong about all those things.

Your girlfriend blamed herself for everything, as she tended to. You’d reassured her many times that it wasn’t her fault, that it was just the way you were born— also, false.

“Sev, I’m serious. It’s not your fault, it never was. You’re fixing something that can’t be fixed.” You’d say, sat next to her and watching as she only looked away. “Did I make you feel pressured? Or was it just me being obsessed with helping you? Be honest. I can take it.” Obsessed, huh?

“No. The things you’ve done for me are just.. too nice. You’ve helped me, Sevika, not made it worse.” She’d end up furrowing her brows. “So then, why’d you do that? Hurt yourself, I mean.” Her silver eyes would avoid your arms at an attempt to think positively. “I just.. it’s me. I’m a little frustrated at myself, it’s nothing.” Your girlfriend wouldn’t meet your eyes, let alone face you.

“Can you not?” Your tone a little less gentle. “You won’t even look at me.” Only because Sevika didn’t want to stare, make you feel uncomfortable. “All I’m asking is that you don’t look at me any differently. Please?”

It took time and patience for the woman to acknowledge your scars. She thought the subject was too tense, too awkward. But the first time she did, you ended up opening yourself to her. Letting her in on the small details she’d never thought you’d feel.

That was step one. Step two was helping you in other ways. Sevika would give you suggestions, instead of telling you what to do. Give you space and time to think by yourself. Give you advice and even be a source for you to talk about it with. All she wanted was for you to trust her, turn to her, and let her comfort you— instead of you having to look for that in other things.

Over time, Sevika had stopped avoiding confrontation; only when the topic wasn’t sensitive. She’d ask you if you felt any urges, if you’d even tried doing it again. And, slowly, you began saying no. It wasn’t a lie, no, you’d just stopped thinking about it.

And when she noticed that, your girlfriend felt a sense relief she’d never felt before. She was glad she could do something, even if it was just sharing her ideas and being your safe place.

Sevika loved you, she’d made that quite obvious in the way she stuck by your side. Never had she felt frustration, or annoyance towards you for being in the dark place you used to be in. All she felt was the need to keep you out of there, keep you in the light where you were happy and safe.

Your girlfriend would stay with you for hours if you needed her to. If you were crying she’d cry with you. If you needed her attention she’d give it to you at an instant. If you needed her to just hold you she’d do so. She’d open her arms for you, kiss away your pain, and talk away your problems.

All Sevika needed was for you to be alright.

A/N: Pleaseeee please pleaseee! let me know if something I wrote was incorrect or just insensitive, I really don’t want anyone to feel a type of way when they read this; being upset or angry. I tried my hardest to write how I, personally, feel because I know a lot of people might feel the same way— relate. Hopefully I didn’t do anything wrong :(

Please reach out to someone you know and trust if you are feeling stuck and are struggling with an eating disorder or self-harm. I promise you it’ll only get worse without help and support.