#buzzing with happiness to the point it consumed me

[magefelixir]

uhh scared to say this but i want to remind everyone to take care of themselves. its natural to be upset that actors are leaving the show but at the end of the day you don’t know these people and you should not be so upset affects you physically or affects your mental health, makes you anxious or stressed etc this should not consume your life it is actually not good for you at all and it might be a sign you need to take a step back and prioritize yourself

[acciotaitlynn]

Xavier following you around begging for forgiveness, interfering with your dates, etc after you break up with him because he chose mc to save instead of you but he regrets it now plzzzzzz? 🥺

Hiii! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ I hope it's okay that this is spicy! Xavikitty's got me really worked up 😩💦 This healed something in me fr. Thank you for requesting!

→ xavier༝you ꒰sylus is your bestie꒱

→ 18+, unprotected sex, vsex, marking/claiming, fingering, masturbation, oral;꒰fem!receiving꒱ angst, overstim, angel/baby/good girl used, ⋆˙⟡ reader is not mc from lads

→ wc: 9k

→ pt.2

It plays on an endless loop in Xavier’s head—he remembers pushing you into harm's way to protect her. He shuts his eyes, steeling himself as the memory flares up like a haunting specter, nausea twisting at its force.

How can he possibly make you understand? After countless lifetimes dedicated to protecting Mai, it’s become instinctual, as natural as breathing. He’s devoted himself to placing her life above all else, including his own, to the point where it requires no conscious thought. His body moves according to her needs, like weary clay molded to her unyielding will.

Typically, keeping her safe fills him with immense pride and joy. She’s the center of his existence—the one thing he’s never once regretted dedicating himself to.

He’s unsure when that began to change. Perhaps it was the first moment he laid eyes on you. He remembers it vividly… 

You stood beside Mai, the woman he’s always considered the most beautiful soul in the world, yet all he could see was you. A soft, surprised inhale escaped him as he caught your radiant gaze. Then his eyes wandered over your form, drawn to the uniform that hugged your curves in all the right places—curves that stirred a long-buried ache in him, a longing he’d almost forgotten existed.

Captain Jenna assigned you to the Unicorns team, instructing them to show you the ropes during your first few months. Much to Mai's dismay, Xavier took a shine to you. You both hit it off instantly, diving into animated discussions about books, video games, and anime that last for hours. 

Xavier changes around you. It's a stark contrast from his usual aloof demeanor; he becomes like an overeager puppy, radiating a cheerful, youthful energy that draws you in. You make him feel alive, his soul buzzing with excitement whenever you're around.

Then there's Mai. The lingering touches and flirtations between her and Xavier are familiar yet futile. He feels something for her—his body still heats up when she’s near, and the butterflies flutter in his stomach whenever she hugs him. But you? You make his heart race to the point where he can't think straight. You ignite a spark in him that he’s hesitant to acknowledge, filling him with light and hope. 

With Mai, it’s different. While she makes him happy, the constant chase for something unachievable cloaks their moments in a bittersweet melancholy, even during the brightest times. A nagging question lingers in his mind—is he starting to care for you so deeply that it’s overshadowing his feelings for her? Is that even possible?

Mai has consumed his thoughts and desires for as long as he can remember. He struggles to disentangle himself from her, even against his will. But ever since that first mission together, you’ve carved a place in his psyche that’s too significant to ignore. 

Unbeknownst to him, his changes around you are glaringly obvious. And you can't help but smirk at how annoyed it makes Mai. She does her best to keep you away from him, often splitting up during missions to maintain her hold. She sits closer to Xavier, throwing you daggers with her glares, her flirtations with him seemingly growing bolder by the day. 

Currently, her arm is draped over his shoulders as she whispers into his ear. As your eyes meet Xavier’s, warmth blooms in his gaze, only to falter when you quickly look away.

It’s only been three days since he pushed you in front of that wanderer without a second thought, pulling Mai away as though her safety was paramount. Mai executed her plan with precision, positioning herself between you and the threat when Xavier was distracted to force a choice upon him. It was meant to convey that he ultimately belongs to her.

You've asked him to avoid speaking to you unless it’s work-related, and even then, you prefer silence. His gentle voice feels like a sharp knife cutting deep into your resolve. Just one more month, and you can escape this toxic duo for good.

Watching Mai cling to him is torture—some sort of cruel cosmic punishment for an unknown transgression. Every place her hands linger is a spot you crave for yourself. Your desire for Xavier has burned since the moment you laid eyes on him. It’s evident he shares that longing, how his gaze roams over you when he thinks you’re not looking, and how he blushes fiercely at the simplest of touches.

You just don’t understand it. You know their heartbreaking history; Sylus filled you in. Giving up on something you've worked so hard for is a monumental challenge. Still, they don’t joke and laugh like you do. His eyes don’t light up for her the way they do for you; that deep cerulean gaze doesn’t trace her form with the same heat anymore. He no longer seeks her out or reciprocates her touches. In fact, he’d likely forget her entirely if she weren’t always throwing herself at him. 

So, why doesn’t he draw a line? Why won’t he create the boundary he so obviously needs? It’s maddening. 

You wish for the patrol minutes to fly by so you can escape, grab a few drinks, and retreat to the safety of binge-watching anime, where you can finally process your feelings. 

Your friend’s ringtone cuts through your frustration as Mai nuzzles into Xavier, earning a grimace from him as he pulls back slightly. The deep voice on the other end of your phone call soothes your irritation like crisp, smoky whiskey. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, relief washing over you at the welcome distraction. You hadn’t realized how much you needed it until now.

“You sound upset, sweetie. Is a certain naughty kitten causing you some frustration again?” he teases, referring to the skank currently toeing Xavier’s thigh. You glance around, taking in the scene around you, and it only intensifies your disgust. It's a crowded street, and she just pops her boot off and goes for it.

“It would be great if you could come take her away. for like, ever,” you mumble grumpily.

"But then you might miss me," he drawls, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"That's why video chat exists," you reply, rolling your eyes.

Mai knows exactly who’s on the other end of that line, but her confidence in your friendship with Sylus keeps her at ease. She knows you don’t stand in the way of her claim on him. Instead, she leans closer to Xavier, her fingers tracing lazy shapes along his arm, a suggestive grin plastered on her face. 

Yet it’s a futile effort. Xavier is hanging on your every word, his focus unwavering. His remains unreadable as you assure Sylus you'll arrive soon.

Finally, the clock strikes midnight. Unfortunately, you’ve ridden here with Mai, as your car is in the shop. You contemplate how to ask for a lift, but before you can gather the courage, Xavier swiftly breaks free from Mai’s grasp and gently guides you toward his car.

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Xavier!” Mai's voice drips with irritation as she tries to pull him back.

He dodges her intervention, a determined look in his eyes. “Don’t you need a ride?” he asks, keeping his gaze steady on you.

Mai’s stunned expression is almost comical, but Xavier doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a response. He’s not about to subject you to another awkward ride with her, especially when he can’t shake the unsettled feeling that gnaws at him at the thought of you having dinner with Sylus. How easily you seemed to relax upon receiving his call is driving Xavier mad. 

As Mai seethes next to her bike, Xavier’s focus remains ahead, his expression calm, but his grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled. You angle toward the window, crossing your arms and letting the scenery blur past. Irritation bubbles just beneath the surface, and you can’t help but murmur, “Escaping your master’s leash. Impressive.” 

He glances at you, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but then he turns his gaze back to the road, leaving the tension hanging in the air between you.

Sylus is waiting when you pull up, propped casually against the bar’s porch, with a cigarette in hand and a knowing glint in his eyes as he watches you arrive. Xavier seems poised to say something, but you hop out of the car before he can get the words out, striding straight past Sylus and tossing a casual “What’s up?” over your shoulder.

You miss the way Sylus shoots a glance at Xavier—a look that says, “You better behave.” He has no grudge against the hunter; Mai chose Sylus, so what was there for him to resent? That was until Xavier started hurting you.

“I seriously don’t understand what you see in her,” you mutter as Sylus takes a seat, prompting a chuckle from him and a playful ruffle of your hair.

“I find it all part of her charm,” he shoots back with a grin.

With an exasperated sigh, you focus on getting drunk enough to forget Xavier. That task feels daunting until Sylus volunteers for karaoke, his performance drowning out your worries. When he flops back down at the table, he wears a broad grin, eyes sparkling.

“Good, right?” he asks, confidence overflowing, and it takes all your restraint not to tease him.

He’s sensitive about his singing. So, you lean in with your best serious face. “So good, Sy. You’ve gotten even better!”

His ego balloons as he settles back into the booth, nodding appreciatively as he says, “Truly.”

Carmine eyes brightened by the drinks, his flushed face scans the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance at how effortlessly beautiful he looks when he lets loose. Just once, you wish he’d look bad, allowing you to be the cute one in the friendship.

Noticing your irritated appraisal, Sylus chuckles, his arm draping over the booth. He shoots you a mock, severe look. “Better not let your hunter catch you looking at me like that, sweetie. Or Mai, for that matter.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Your head is getting bigger. Seriously, it might be wider than your shoulders by now.”

But his smile vanishes, replaced by concern as he studies you. “How are you holding up?”

Your gentle smile reflects your appreciation for his genuine concern. Sylus can be a pain, but he also knows how to be a great friend. “I’m okay, I guess. If your girl gets any more hands-on, though…” You narrow your eyes at him like it’s his fault. “Doesn’t it bother you that she’s all over him lately?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, tossing back a shot. “Sweetie, look at me, then at him—what’s there to worry about?”

Your scoff drips with sarcasm, enough to irk him. He raises an eyebrow and playfully kicks your ankle, smirking as you wince and curse loudly enough to catch others' attention. But soon, his worry returns, his voice softening as he tries to comfort you. “You know their history, dove. Surely, you can see that letting her go will be nearly impossible for him. I warned you about this.”

He did warn you, and you didn’t listen. Now you wish you had. You gave him a tender smile and a reassuring pat on his hand, murmuring, “I know. I just need time to accept it.”

Mission accomplished—both you and Sylus are sufficiently drunk as you head out, making plans for him to drop you off at your place. You’re busy teasing Mephisto, who’s perched on Sylus’s shoulder. His irritated nip catches your attention, and you notice Xavier’s car is still parked outside. 

Xavier knows you can see him, but you turn away, hopping on Sylus’s bike as he takes off. Guilt and irritation bubble within him as he hits the dashboard, cursing softly while watching you disappear into the distance.

When did he start hating Sylus for being near you rather than for being near Mai? As he contemplates, he realizes their relationship hasn’t bothered him lately. He’s certain he heard them banging last night from his apartment, and he couldn’t have cared less. All that consumed his mind was how to show you how sorry he is. 

After a while, his imagination ran wild, turning Mai’s cries of pleasure into thoughts of you, your sweet voice calling out in ecstasy.  His desire grew painfully as he imagined you beneath him, gripping himself tightly as he came hard enough to see stars, all while dealing with the guilt of betraying your trust.

Earlier, words had failed him, bound tight by guilt and nerves. He doesn’t know how to make you understand, but he has to try; the thought of seeing you in pain any longer is unbearable. The need to wrap you in his arms and kiss away that adorable frown grows stronger daily.

The hope of taking you home and getting a chance to try again disappears with your retreating silhouette. He groans in frustration, his head hitting the steering wheel as exhaustion trickles over him.

He’s an absolute mess. He can’t eat or sleep—two of his favorite things. Even meat doesn’t hold appeal right now. He’s miserable. 

Helplessly, he follows you and Sylus, watching your figures from his car as you sit in front of the TV.  Eventually, though, he leaves, knowing knocking on your door in the middle of the night to fall on his knees and apologize isn’t a realistic option unless he wants you to see just how much he’s falling apart over this.

At some point, you fall asleep, and Sylus covers you up before heading out. Both you and Xavier hope for relief in your dreams, but instead, your dreams are haunted by each other’s presence.

Mai has taken the day off to accompany Sylus on a business deal, and as much as you hate to admit it, you miss her. It would have been nice if Sylus had taken you along instead, leaving her here to make Xavier as miserable as you are.

Once upon a time, the thought of being alone with him on a mission filled you with excitement, practically keeping you awake the night before from sheer nerves. Now, you do your best to ignore him, walking just out of reach.

He kicks a rock, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. “We should head back soon; it’s getting late. We can look for the protocore again tomorrow.”

Guilt bubbles up in you at the melancholy lacing his voice. You nod and gesture toward a nearby Wanderer, saying, “Let’s take that one down and head out.”

The two of you fight seamlessly, your movements flowing together in a rhythm more exquisite than what he shares with Mai—something that seems to stun him every time. Without realizing it, he’s started gravitating toward you during battles, often having to forcibly pull himself back to her side.

A fresh pang of guilt gnaws at him, a feeling of drifting further away from what he’s always believed to be his purpose in life. He feels so lost, and there’s only one direction he longs to run in.

When did you become his guiding star?

The trip home is the most awkward car ride you’ve ever endured, the air thick with unease. You let out a long sigh, adjusting your seat as you turn up the volume on Mozart's Symphony No. 41, the "Jupiter" movement, hoping the music can cut through the oppressive silence. The soothing notes help ease Xavier's anxiety a bit, which in turn allows you to relax as the tension around you fades—if only slightly.

But as he parks in front of your place and kills the engine, the uncomfortable atmosphere returns with full force. Every part of you longs to bolt inside, terrified of the conversation that looms ahead. You know what’s coming. He’ll look at you with those beautiful, earnest eyes and say he’s sorry, genuinely believing it, but that apology will only sharpen the pain. If he genuinely cared, he wouldn’t have put you in harm’s way. If you mattered to him, he would have shown it when it counted.

You look away, remaining still in a silent invitation for him to speak.

His soft voice slices through the tension, murmuring, “I’m so sorry.”

Another wave of silence washes over you, anger surging beneath the surface—a force that takes all your strength to suppress. You shake your head in disbelief, your nails digging into your palms as you seek relief from the emotional turmoil. Pain to drown out the pain.

He notices, gently taking your hand, unfurling your fingers, and placing them back in your lap. Your body responds to his touch, a raw ache begging for more, while a part of you screams in frustration. Shooting him a glare, you cross your arms tightly, fighting against the tears welling up.

“Don’t touch me, Xavier.” Your voice is low and firm—an order that conflicts with the desperate plea of your heart, urging you to draw him closer.

His face falls, shoulders slumping as his hand drops to his lap. “Okay,” he whispers, the hurt in his voice cracking your heart a little more. You reach for him, then quickly pull back.

Searching your face, he pleads, “May I have a moment to explain? I know it won’t help, but—”

You grab your bag, cutting him off. “No need; Sylus took care of it. You chase her across the cosmos, hopelessly in love with someone who doesn’t deserve you. I'm caught up. Thank you for the apology, though. Really,” you say softly, closing the door behind you. As you walk away, you can almost feel the weight of his regret lingering in the air.

A date at Meow’s Cafe, surrounded by adorable miniature cats, should be a delightful experience. Yet today, it feels heavy with the weight of Xavier’s absence. It’s your first time here without him, and everything is off; the playful mews of the kitties have lost their charm, grating on your nerves instead, while the usually vibrant atmosphere feels dull and lifeless.

The man sitting across from you is undeniably attractive, with dark, wavy hair, a chiseled jawline, and a smile that promises excitement and chaos. You can’t help but appreciate the way his fingers linger a moment too long on your skin or the longing glint in his eyes. Yet, the ache of Xavier’s absence lingers, casting a shadow over your attempts to enjoy the moment.

Excusing yourself to the restroom, you scrub your hands, your thoughts lingering on thoughts of him. Just as you’re about to shake the memories away, his soft voice—almost a whisper—brushes against your ear. “Does he play as well as me?”

You can almost feel the tension radiating from him, the palpable mix of frustration and jealousy. Xavier’s emotions swirl around him, creating a glow that’s impossible to ignore. Watching you with someone else, someone who seems to draw you in far too easily, has shattered something within him. 

As you turn, you’re startled to find him standing there, his presence commanding and intense. His cheeks are flushed, his breaths quickening, and his hooded blue eyes betray a storm of feelings: anger, grief, desire, and a potent possessiveness that sends a thrilling shiver down your spine.

You fight to maintain your composure, voice steady as you ask, “What are you doing here?” Tara set this date up for you just yesterday, assuring you that it would help you forget about Xavier. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

He closes the distance between you in a heartbeat, his lips grazing your cheek as he pushes you gently against the wall. For a moment, his tender touch makes you forget all about the boundaries you've set.

“What are you—”

He cups your cheek, kissing you so softly it nearly steals your breath away. “There aren’t words to express how sorry I am,” he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours, thumb brushing away your unshed tears as you stand frozen, torn between pushing him away and kissing him again.

You allow his lips to skim your neck, cursing your body’s betrayal when you feel an intense warmth spread through you at just the brush of his breath on your skin. 

“If I could do it over, I wouldn’t make the same choice,” he confesses, his eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. The truth in his words shakes him to his core—given another chance, he would choose you without hesitation.

Reality crashes over you, jarring you from his spell. You pull away, a sad, pitying look crossing your face. “Yes, you really would,” you reply quietly, determination solidifying your resolve as you stride out of the cafe with your date in tow.

Your date's name is Ash, but it feels irrelevant; he’s merely a means to an end, a warm body to help work out your frustrations. A pretty placeholder whose touch you imagine belongs to Xavier—a delicious fantasy until you accidentally murmur Xavier’s name, and the atmosphere grows awkward. 

Left alone, forced to find release on your own. Visions of Xavier’s cock filling you up while his beautiful gaze locks with yours consume your mind. You’re a mess of whimpers, chanting his name in a prayer that fills the stillness of your room as you ride an orgasm so powerful it borders on pain. Despite its overwhelming intensity, it does nothing to ease the ache that demands you give in to him, insisting on your claim in every way possible.

It disgusts you how you can still want someone who causes you so much pain, someone who can never care for you like you care for him. 

Your phone pings, lighting up with a message—from Xavier. He hasn’t texted you since that fateful mission, and you kick yourself at the happiness the sudden communication brings you.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Next, a video comes through, sending your phone flying across the carpet as a shriek leaves you. Your hand claps over your mouth in shock, and you immediately rush to retrieve it, relentless desire flooding you at the image on the screen.

Xavier reclines on a sofa with his legs spread wide, his black button-up open to show off his lean, sculpted form. He frees his cock—so hard it looks painful. He must be super sensitive because the moment his hand wraps around himself, he lets out a needy little whimper that curls your toes.

You wish more than anything to take him in your mouth, to taste the pretty beads of precum that make his movements slick and sloppy.

Your stunned murmur of, “W-what is happening…” sounds so horrified and horny that it's comical.

Your fingers move almost of their own accord, slipping deep inside you to match his rhythm. You prop your phone up so your free hand can trail over your body, pinching and rolling your nipples as your breath quickens alongside his. You hate yourself for every touch, but you can’t stop. Your attention latches onto him and nothing else, unable to look away, even if what’s about to happen ends up ruining you. 

His grip firms instantly as if aware of your reaction, and he strokes himself faster. His head kicks back, his eyes slam shut, and a low groan escapes him. “I’m picturing myself inside you,” he admits, “Imagining laying claim to every inch of your body and soul.”

His gaze pierces through the camera, earnest and pleading, his blue eyes shining with unfathomable need.

“You think I wouldn’t make a different choice if given the chance, but you’re wrong. Besides fucking you, regret is a constant on my mind, relentlessly replaying as I watch myself make the stupidest choice of my life.” He lays his head back again, keeping his eyes on the camera as he languidly strokes himself, continuing, “Centuries of longing for and chasing after Mai, of dedicating my very existence to her, and then you come along and turn my entire world upside down with just a smile. You make me want to give up everything I believe in to be with you.”

His words trail off as his movements become frantic. With an incoherent mumble, he says, “I bet you’re so tight… so warm. Are you wet for me, angel? I hope so… W-will you cum with me?” The plea in his voice is unmistakable.

You whimper, nodding frantically, your pussy squeezing your fingers as his filthy words spur you on.

Your gaze flits over his body, unable to settle as your pleasure builds. He’s so pretty—his face flushed, sweat beading on his skin, his cerulean eyes burning bright. A whiny, needy repetition of your name leaves his lips as cum covers his hand and stomach, sending you hurtling into your own release.

Shame fills you when the pleasure subsides. His face moves closer to the camera, and he softly murmurs, “I really miss you,” effectively ripping your heart out and stomping on it before the video cuts off, an unsettling silence filling the air. You want to scream and cry, and most frustratingly, you want a second round with the most significant thing ever filmed.

A sudden realization hits you, and you groan, stuffing your face into a pillow with a muted scream. Work tomorrow is going to be so awkward.

Thank the gods your car is finally back from the shop. An immense sense of relief washes over you, knowing you won’t have to endure another ride with Xavier after what happened last night—or, possibly even worse, with Mai.

However, that relief quickly evaporates as you arrive at work and see Xavier striding toward you. He boldly brushes your hair back and leans in close, whispering, “Did you enjoy yourself last night? I know I did,” his smile warm and inviting.

He takes your chin and tilts your face, his voice soft as he confesses, “I’ve never felt so good. Not even at the thought of Mai.” You squeak in surprise, instinctively pulling away.

Xavier has decided he’s done fighting his feelings for you. The hesitation about the changes this could bring to his life—and the guilt that comes with it—is gone. He wants you more than anything, and now he’s determined to show you just how much.

As you walk side by side on patrol, his soft voice fills the air with light-hearted musings and playful teasing, yet you constantly remind yourself why you must keep your distance.

Meanwhile, Mai glares daggers from behind, trying desperately to distract Xavier at every opportunity. She attempts to hold his hand at one point, batting her lashes with a cute little pout. But he quickly pulls away, brushes your arm tenderly, and continues walking by your side. 

A warmth spreads in your heart, and you can’t help but worry about how easily he’s breaking down the walls you’ve built around yourself.

Mai’s cheerful voice grates on Xavier’s nerves as he struggles to finish his paperwork for the day. The office is empty now, and he’s itching to leave, his mind consumed with thoughts of seeing you.

Mai pulls up a chair, pretending to help him, but her true intentions are clear when she rests her hand on his thigh, continuing to write as if it’s the most natural thing. Her fingers begin their creeping ascent, and Xavier’s heart races. His body locks up, and anxiety rises as the ability to breathe leaves him. 

Mai has always been flirty, something he used to find endearing, even if it was just a ruse to keep him coming back for more. But this was more than suggestive flirtation. When she presses her lips to his for the first time, she sighs as if kissing him brings her true joy.

How many times has he longed for this? Centuries of wishing for this moment—and he feels nothing at all. 

Xavier pulls back with a pained expression, searching her beautiful eyes. He makes no move to stop her, testing how he truly feels. After so much effort and heartbreak over wanting, no, needing this and Mai, he has to be sure before giving it all up.

Her fingers trail delicately over his abs and chest. He lets her kiss him again; this time, Xavier kisses back, trying to coax out some emotion other than this empty void. Kisses trail his skin as she frees his cock, only to pull back in disbelief when she feels his lack of arousal.

He watches her with detachment as she strokes him, pouting when he remains limp in her hand. Gently stopping her as she moves to take him into her mouth, he says, “I can’t do this anymore,” his voice soft but resolute, as a weight lifts from his shoulders.

Mai narrows her eyes, her mask slipping momentarily as she murmurs, “Xavier, you don’t truly want her. You’re just so pent up after all these years that anyone will do,” her veil of teasing returns as she leans closer, urging, “Let me help. This is what you’ve always wanted, right?” 

She frees her breasts from her tank top, squeezing and tugging enticingly. This isn’t the girl he fell in love with—the gentle, kind soul that captured his heart so long ago. Over her lifetimes, she’s become cold and cruel, the alluring brightness in her eyes dimming with time. Xavier realizes he’s been chasing someone who no longer exists, a profound grief washing over him.

Taking out his phone, he finds a picture of you and shows it to Mai as she scowls. Pushing her hand away, he murmurs, “You have no idea what I want. Watch.”

Gazing at your smiling face on the screen, he begins stroking his cock, becoming painfully hard within moments, lust shadowing his features. Mai’s eyes burn with genuine desire and jealousy, but he feels nothing for her.

Tucking himself back into his boxers and fixing his pants, he asks, “Did you throw yourself in front of that Wanderer to lure me into saving you?” This question has nagged him whenever the scene replays in his mind. 

He’s almost certain Mai wasn’t near you when he began the battle, only to find her next to you when the Wanderer attacked. The chaos made it difficult for him to be sure.

The answer becomes clear when Mai clears her throat, quickly glancing away. Nervousness plays on her features as Xavier takes on a chilling demeanor, standing and collecting his paperwork with meticulous movements. Any remaining connection to her ignites and burns away as he regards her coldly, fighting hard to maintain his composure. 

“I’ll be requesting a transfer for both her and myself. In the meantime, don’t even look in her direction,” Xavier says, his calm tone carrying an underlying warning: there will be consequences if she crosses the boundary he’s setting. Adjusting her top, shame, and embarrassment on her features, Mai watches as Xavier turns and walks away. 

Your phone pings as you slip into an oversized T-shirt, and the screen lights up with a message from Sylus: “Looks like you won the game, dove. My money was on you all along,” complete with a celebratory champagne bottle emoji.

What the heck is that supposed to mean? 

You’re about to hit the call button to get an explanation when a knock at the door reveals a rain-soaked Xavier. His eyes light with relief upon seeing you. You let him in, grabbing a towel and doing your best to help him dry off, earning a gentle smile as you fluff his hair. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, pulling away and searching his face.

His fingers brush your cheek tenderly as he nods and says, “If I were to ask you to leave Linkon with me, what would you say?”

Your eyes widen as you sputter, “Um, I—like for the day?” 

He gives you a rare, genuine smile, then chuckles as he replies, “No. Like forever. Together.” He kisses you tenderly and nuzzles your nose. “We can start over somewhere new,” he whispers earnestly.

You want to believe such a thing is possible, but doubt lingers, pulling you away from his embrace. “Xavier… you don’t mean that. Mai—” 

“Is no longer part of my life,” he finishes. Gripping you by the waist and drawing you closer, he tilts your head to meet his gaze.“I don’t care how long it takes to prove it to you. I’m a very patient man,” he murmurs.

“How exactly do you plan to prove it to me?” you ask, your voice low and sensual, surprising even yourself.

You adore the way Xavier’s eyes heat up when he hears it. He hums softly, his lips brushing your ear while one arm holds you close, his fingers tracing down your arm to entwine with yours. When he kisses you this time, your body aches to melt against his, but you stand your ground, determined to make him fight for it. His tongue gently explores your mouth, groaning as he tastes you fully, cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss.

He pulls back and studies you, his thumb grazing your lips, admiring how they glisten as he spreads the moisture around. “So pretty…” he murmurs, his mouth skimming the soft skin under your ear, teeth grazing lightly, sending shivers through your body.

His brows scrunch in a pout as he reaches for your hands that hang limply at your sides, “Why won’t you touch me?” he asks, hurt evident in his tone.

“I’m not sure you deserve it yet,” you mumble, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I see,” he says with a hint of amusement.

Slowly, his touch travels under your shirt, teasing your nipple with light sweeps of his thumb. His mouth and hands explore every inch of your skin he can reach, worshiping you so delicately it takes your breath away. 

“Xavier?”

“Hmm?”

“I want to see you,” you admit, nervousness spilling into your voice.

Xavier’s throat bobs as he nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he sheds his clothing. At first, he’s hesitant, afraid you may not like what you see.

It’s a silly fear since he’s the most perfect thing you’ve ever seen. Lean and slender, his body is honed by centuries of combat, the faint scars on his pale skin testifying to trials overcome. Your hungry eyes catch on his cock, so long and pretty that you moan quietly, just thinking about how good it would feel to take it.

The look of pure longing on your face instantly eases Xavier’s insecurities. His thumb sweeps over his cock, gathering beads of precum before he holds it to your mouth, a plea evident in his eyes. You want to remain strong, but the desire to taste him overpowers you. You suck it clean, your eyes fluttering shut with a sigh. His cock twitches eagerly as a strangled “fuckk, angel” escapes him, his thumb pumping deeply into your mouth as he bites his puffy lip. 

“May I see you too?” he asks quietly, fingers tracing the hem of your shirt. You nod and let him pull it off, fighting the urge to cover yourself as your nipples perk in the chilly air. The way his gaze travels your body is so sensual and awe-filled that it’s almost devastating.

His hands tangle in your hair as he tilts your head, his kiss far more profound than any before. He presses you against the wall, trailing kisses down your stomach and along your inner thighs before pulling your shorts down. A groan escapes him when he sees your bare pussy. 

Instantly, he thumbs open your folds, dragging long, languid fingers through your heat before holding his hand up for you to see. “So wet,” he murmurs, rubbing it around and watching it stick to his fingers. “Is this all for me? he asks, wonder filling his voice. 

You nod, whimpering pitifully as he licks them clean, his eyes shutting in ecstasy at your taste. A desperate curse leaves him as he commands,  “Spread your legs then; I can’t let any go to waste.” You do as he says, whimpering again as his fingers trace delicate circles over your clit. “You’ve done so well for me, angel… practically dripping. You’ll feel amazing like this.” Then his tongue is deep in your cunt, eagerly lapping up your arousal with a deep groan against your skin that shocks your entire system. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair without hesitation, holding his face firmly in place as you grind against it. His straight nose brushes your clit with every turn of your hips, sending waves of pleasure through you. He kneels before you, and his gaze is unwavering as he slips a finger inside you, his lips and teeth teasing your slick, warm skin. Xavier loves how puffy your clit gets under his mouth and how sensitive you are to even the slightest of his touches.

He yearns to be closer to you, to be enveloped in your warmth and your scent as you cum in his mouth. Guiding you to the couch, he lies down and motions for you to come closer. “Use my face,” he commands softly, his voice laden with desire as he finishes. “I want to enjoy my meal.”

He eases you over him, his mouth inhaling you eagerly. Growing frustrated that you won’t put all your weight on him, he pushes you down so your pussy lands flush on his face. “Good girl,” he mumbles against you, urging your hips along. At first, you’re concerned about his ability to breathe, but the worry quickly vanishes as he teases your nipples and plays with your ass.

He whimpers as your fingers finally begin to trace his skin, his hips making needy pumps into the air, desperately seeking friction. Your touches are so tender, your gaze full of adoration, and a giddy smile spreads across your face at the sight of his slick-covered features.

You run your hands lovingly through his hair, the look on your face causing him to fall apart. He lets out a strangled cry that vibrates through your pussy as his cum covers his stomach. He sucks your clit harder, fingers pumping into you rapidly as you ride his face.

“Yes, yes, yess!” you shout, hand gripping his hair tightly while the other reaches around to play in his essence, coating his sensitive, twitching cock as he whimpers quietly. You can’t find it in yourself to feel ashamed as you turn into an absolute slut above him. It’s just so deliciously indecent. 

He’s so sticky from his release, shimmering with sweat and the faint glow of his evol. His face and ears are flushed, your essence covering his mouth and chin. He gazes up at you with so much desire as you bring your soaked fingers to your mouth, tasting them slowly.

The moment he feels your tight walls flutter around his fingers at his taste, he replaces them with his tongue, devouring every bit of your cunt. Even after he cleans all your cum, he refuses to stop. He pulls you tighter against him, forcing your hips to move until you whine and tremble uncontrollably above him.

“T-too much, Xavier, pleasee,” you mumble desperately, tugging at his hair. He chuckles softly and sits up, letting you rest. You settle on his lap as he leans back against the sofa, giving you a gentle smile, his lips still wet and shiny. Your touch is uninhibited now, free from hesitation as your fingers map his skin. 

He’s so responsive. Just the gentlest of touches elicit the most adorable, most sensual sounds. Your fingers ghost over a perked nipple, earning a strangled groan in return. His head kicks, and his hands form tight fists as he tries to show restraint.

You meet his eyes, your voice soft as you ask, ‘Xavier… have you ever felt truly cared for and cherished before?” 

You want to cry and rage when he blushes and turns away, whispering “no” as pain briefly crosses his features. 

Cupping his face, you kiss him tenderly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. “I promise, you’ll never have to spend another day without knowing how loved you are,” you vow earnestly.

His eyes widen in surprise as he silently mouths the word “love,” as if trying to see how it feels on his tongue. “No one’s ever said that word to me before,” he admits quietly.

You smile gently, meeting his gaze. “Well, try saying it out loud next time. You need to get used to it.” Your lips find his again, gentle and searching, conveying all the emotions too scary to put into words just yet. You bite and suck at his neck, teasing relentlessly when his body betrays how good it feels. 

You work a faint mark on his collarbone, admiring it with a brush of your fingers as you quietly ask, “Are you really all mine?” Your awe-filled gaze meets his. He pulls you close, cupping the nape of your neck and murmuring, “Yes,” against your lips. A smile lights up your face, mirrored by his beaming expression as he witnesses your joy.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says earnestly, brushing your hair over your shoulder.

You roll your eyes with a teasing grin and mumble, “Don’t push it,” before silencing his words by pressing your tongue into his mouth. He pulls away after a moment, biting his lip as he forces himself to be gentle, playing with your breasts. Little tugs and pinches over one nipple while the other hand traces your curves.

It’s not nearly enough.

“I won’t break, Xavier. You need to do it harder,” you plead, frustration filling your voice.  Your plea is soon replaced with a surprised, strangled cry when he murmurs, “Yes, mam,” and stuffs his mouth full, biting and sucking roughly.

His touch turns rougher, too. His fingers squeeze your ass so hard they’ll surely leave marks, complimenting the bruise blooming on the swell of your breast. 

“All mine,” he says, meeting your eyes with a teasing, confident smile as he echoes your earlier sentiment. You squeak in surprise as he grabs your thighs and presses down, sliding you along his cock, using your pussy to smear his cum around, soaking your heat and thighs in slickness.

You take over, hips moving faster, desperately seeking more of the pleasure he’s bringing you. 

“You’re so soft and warm…” you murmur dreamily, ruining him when you finish with a whimper of, “Gonna feel so good filling me up,” before burying your face in his neck as you move against him.

“Can I put it in? Please?” he begs, lifting your ass just enough to rub circles with his leaking tip at your entrance. He’s trembling, holding back the urge to fuck you roughly. Instead of answering, you lower yourself onto him, wincing as his cock stretches you open. 

He can’t take his eyes away from where you join, watching you drip down his length as he delicately rubs your clit, his eyebrows scrunched up in an adorable expression of concentration. 

“Does it hurt?’ he asks, noticing your quiet gasp of pain as you take him halfway. You nod, whimpering slightly. He leans up to kiss you, pressing down on your bottom lip and tilting your chin to meet your blissed-out gaze. “You’re still so tight, angel. I’ll open you up better next time, I promise.” He nuzzles your nose, trying to distract you from the pain as he pushes in deeper.“Can you take it for me? I-i’m almost there,” he says, his eyes trickling back down to where you suck him in.

Pleasure begins to mix seamlessly with the pain, and you don’t bother to respond, your eyes rolling back as a sigh of ecstasy leaves you. Xavier takes that as a yes and gently presses you down until he bottoms out. Desire begins to overwhelm his features as he watches your essence mix with his at the base of his cock.

He searches your eyes, kissing you softly and murmuring, “How does it feel?” 

“Honestly? Nothing has ever felt so good. So full…” you mumble, starting a slow, torturous cycle of movements. You pull him out to the tip before letting him fill you up again, over and over, until the moment comes when he finally allows himself to let go. He presses you flush against him and pushes deep inside you, setting his own much more intense pace. He spanks your ass with an adorable smile, his blue eyes shining with joy. 

You eagerly match his movements, chanting, “Harder, Xavier! Harder!” You squeal happily when he flips you onto your back, throwing your legs above your head and fucking you so much harder. A mirthful smile appears on his face as his cock pierces deep inside you, forcing out a raw, strangled cry of pleasure. Pleasure builds and crashes in an instant, your pussy gripping and pulsing so tightly around him that he can barely breathe.

“That’s it, baby, cum all over me,” he praises, stroking your clit in time with his thrusts. His pace quickens, helping you ride your release. Sloppy sounds fill the air as you spill over him, spurring him on. He grips your hips tight to keep you from sliding as he fucks into you relentlessly.

“Such a good girl. You can give me another one, can’t you?” he murmurs, his weight pressing down on you, pushing his cock even deeper than before. The soft, pale hair trailing from his pelvis rubs your clit just right. His moves are deliberate, urging you to come again with a sharp cry as tears fill your eyes and your body starts to tremble. 

He kisses your cheek, his movements never slowing. “So perfect for me… Just one more, angel,” he whispers, making pointed thrusts into your g-spot over and over and over until you spill all over him again. 

He can’t seem to stop. Every orgasm he pulls from you only makes him more desperate and needy. “So fucking wet… you have no idea how good you feel,” he mumbles incoherently, burying his face in your neck and bringing you to release again just from the feeling of his warm mouth on your skin and his filthy words. 

“T-too much, Xavier, I can’t! Please!” You’re sobbing and overstimulated—a sensitive, weak mess. 

“Shh. It’s okay… It’ll be over soon. You want to show me how much you love me, right?” His tone is teasing, but the sincerity in his eyes tells you your answer means a lot to him. 

Tears fall harder as he kisses you, and you manage to choke out a strangled “yes.” 

“I know you do,” he says tenderly. His tongue pries open your mouth and softly commands, “Swallow,” as he spits into it. 

Blushing deeply,  you follow his instructions, moaning in ecstasy at the taste, which earns a pleased hum from him. He tugs on your bottom lip, admiring your blissful expression and the tears tracing your cheeks. His praises continue, bringing you closer and closer to the edge again. 

“Such a pretty little angel, following my instructions so well.” Another orgasm approaches alarmingly fast, feeling almost too powerful, and you wonder if your body can withstand it. Xavier seems to read your mind because he mumbles, “You can,” before fucking you even harder. 

You squirt so much that it pulls out a strangled, “Fuck, yes. You’re doing so fucking well…” from him as his cock squelches around inside you. “I–i can’t hold out much longer. You… you feel too good,” he admits softly against your lips.

 “Please, Xavier... Please cum for me, i–i’ll do anything,” you plead, needing to feel claimed by him more than you can express. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you murmur, “Do you want to finish inside?” pulling him as close as you can. 

He whimpers at your words, cradling your head against his chest as his cock continues to fuck into you mercilessly. The moment his hips stutter and he sinks into you with one last, deep thrust, his cum spills inside of you, and he captures your lips in the most tender kiss you’ve ever felt. Despite reaching his climax, he doesn’t stop. His cock pistons into you with renewed force.

With fierce determination, he pulls one final orgasm from you, his movements gradually slowing as you ride through it. As soon as he pulls back and looks at your ruined form beneath him, lust clouds his features, and his cock hardens again. Anxiety hits you over the state of your more-than-abused pussy, and you whine, “Noo, Xavier—just let me take care of you for a little while. ’m too sensitive.” 

He chuckles, scooping you up in his arms and resting back on the couch. You try to fight the arousal his hardened length pressing against your ass brings. He meets your gaze, kissing you softly and holding you close as your heartbeats grow steady. He peppers your face with gentle, searching kisses. 

“Earlier, I asked you how you felt about leaving Linkon with me,” he says, tucking hair behind your ear as nervousness plays on his face. 

“Mhmm; the forever trip,” you murmur dreamily. 

He smiles softly, meeting your gaze, and asks, “So, what’s your answer?” 

You nuzzle his nose and answer earnestly, “I’ll follow you anywhere, Xavier. Just lead the way.”

A month later, you wake up before dawn to find Sylus’s face just inches from yours, a wry grin on his lips as he glances at Xavier sleeping beside you. “I took your key away specifically to prevent this kind of thing,” you hiss, careful not to wake Xavier as you untangle yourself from his limbs and quietly climb out of bed.

You gently brush his hair back, marveling at how his smile lingers even in sleep now. The melancholy that once plagued him for centuries has vanished, replaced by a serenity brought by your affection. He often tells you that you make him feel truly happy and free for the first time in his life. 

After pulling on a robe, you follow Sylus to the kitchen, halting in your tracks when you see a brand-new laptop on the counter. “Sy, what did you do?” you ask hesitantly, eyeing the device with suspicion. He rolls his eyes and motions toward it.

“What does it look like, sweetie?” he retorts, as if that clears everything up.

“Why did you buy me a laptop, Sylus? You know I don’t like gifts…” you start, but he quickly interrupts.

“Well, you should have thought about that when you decided to move several hours away from me,” he replies. You can sense he’s happy for you and Xavier, but there’s a hint of struggle with this change in your relationship.

Drawing him close, you pinch his cheeks, enjoying the irritated glare he gives you. “You’re my best friend, Sylus. I’m not just going to up and leave you after all these years,” you assure him, giving his nose a gentle boop before turning away.

He chuckles, relaxing a fraction as he ruffles your hair and then refocuses on the task at hand. “I bought you the best one on the market. They assured me it has an excellent camera—I need to ensure that my pretty face comes through crystal clear during our video chats,” he says with a teasing grin.

“Ah, I almost forgot,” he adds, casually pulling a new, shiny smartphone from his pocket and handing it to you. “Both this and the laptop come with a tracking system that alerts me immediately if anything seems off,” he assures you, gently grasping your chin to meet your gaze. “Never hesitate to reach out for my help or just for company. I’m here for you, no matter how far away you are. Got it, dove?”

You want to tease him for being so serious, but his sincerity makes it difficult. It’s a rare and precious thing from him. With a gentle smile and tears welling up in your eyes, you pull him in for a tight hug. He freezes for a moment in surprise, but then his arms wrap around you, a smile spreading across his face as he swings you around.

When your feet settle back on the floor, the sadness has melted from his features. “The laptop has top-notch sound specs, too, so I can still sing to you when you’re feeling down,” he reassures you. It takes considerable effort to suppress the grimace that threatens to break your mask of enthusiasm.

Sylus lets out a low, knowing chuckle, easily seeing through you. “Hopefully, you’ll be able to fake that better over video,” he muses.

You grin and look around your empty home, excitement coursing through you. The transfer request with the Hunter’s Association went through almost immediately, and Xavier found a charming cottage with a small farm, plenty of bookshelves, and just enough room for the two of you. Sylus can’t help but smile at your evident joy. “Today’s the big day,” he teases.

You nod, your grin widening as he raises an eyebrow and offers a suggestive head toss. “You should wake your precious hunter now. You’ve got a lot to do,” he says.

Giggling, you pull him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, earning a blush that makes you laugh even harder. Then, you dash off to wake Xavier.

[daisynik7]

I want to be with you everywhere

“You really didn’t have to walk me back,” you say, staring down at your feet, slow steps across the wet pavement, not at all minding the puddles.

Nanami’s beside you, umbrella tucked between his ribcage and bicep, hands inside his pockets. “It might rain again,” he replies, gaze also focused on the ground below you, a stray strand of his blond bangs falling across his forehead. The aftermath of happy hour is evident amongst the two of you, from the slight blush tinted on his cheeks to the buzz tingling along your hot skin. Though you’re not entirely sure if it’s from the alcohol or from being in such close proximity with the man you’ve fallen for. Maybe it’s both.

Your coworker has always been a gentleman around the office, but recently, you can’t help but wonder if he’s any different towards you versus someone like Mari in Accounting or Hana in HR. It seems that any chance he gets, he chooses to be with you in some shape or form. Working on a project together, volunteering to help you search for archived files in the warehouse, inviting you to lunch with him and only him. It could be wishful thinking on your end, or it could mean something. Whatever it is, you’re not complaining, enjoying his company way more than a normal coworker should.

There’s a comfortable silence as you continue your stroll, his elbow brushing yours with every stride. You like this about him, how he doesn’t force a conversation just to fill the void. Sometimes the silence is more telling than words themselves. It gives you the chance to secretly study his mannerisms, the ones you’ve memorized and buried inside your mind like hidden treasure. How his lips twitch just barely to tease that smile of his. The cadence of his steps, not too fast, not too slow. You’ve learned to recognize his gait just by the sound of it from hearing it so often in the office. At this point, it’s almost soothing, like the steady rhythm of a heartbeat.

But not yours in this moment, because it’s currently racing. Your confession lingers on the tip of your tongue. You chalk it up to the liquor you consumed more than two hours ago, plenty of time for you to sober up. Still, you blame it on that, because if it goes wrong, then at least you have that to fall back on. A momentary lapse of judgement and not at all a humiliating misunderstanding, right?

Before you can speak, the rain interrupts you, almost as if someone watching from above is determined to save you from impending doom. Nanami looks up, then at you, grinning. “See?” He opens the umbrella, holding it tight in his hand, hovering over your side more than his. “Good thing I’m with you.”

His unprotected shoulder starts getting dotted with wet spots from the drizzle. You close the distance between you, huddling nearer to him. Without thinking, you grab the handle, grip right below his, steadying the umbrella to cover the two of you completely. “You’re right,” you smile softly, still avoiding his eyes. “I’m happy to be with you.”

The confession can wait a little while longer. For now, this is more than enough.

Author's Note: Was listening to this song all day today and it just makes me feel like falling in love, idk 🩶 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune. Part 2 here.

[milliesfishes]

First of all, I love your fics🙌🏻

I recently imagined a scenario where Coriolanus and the reader got into an argument at an important event due to the reader feeling like he doesn’t understand nor truly listen to her. He then proves her point by sort of disregarding her stress from being his wife, so she ends up leaving the event without telling him and he later comes home irritated until he finds her in their room having a panic attack.

a year ago this movie dropped and did some brain things to me 🎀happy one year TBOSAS 🫶🫶

౨ৎ꣑ৎyou and coryo have a fight at an event౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x coriolanus snow

The party was nothing but noise.

An endless cacophony of champagne glasses clinking and the irritating vocal cadence of the Capitolites surrounding you chipped away at your ears. Readjusting your hand in the crook of Coriolanus' arm, you bit the side of your cheek and tried to find a happy medium. The noise wasn't helping the tightness in your chest, and you unknowingly squeezed your husband's elbow, trying to take deep breaths.

"Darling?" You looked up when Coriolanus addressed you. He was looking down at where your hand was gripping him.

You released a breath, letting go, your hand falling at your side. It was the third event this week, and you were quickly becoming weary. The same conversation, the same people, only the parties had different names. Even while you were dressing tonight, hardly bothering to make an effort, you could feel how sluggish your movements were. Coriolanus hadn't helped matters, poking his head into your room and harshly telling you to hurry.

He had been impatient as of late, extra stress from work likely piling up and causing it. You kept your distance whenever he got like this usually, but with all your obligations this week, it had been difficult to. You did your best to keep yourself demure, make things as easy as possible, but the difficulties of that hadn't been anticipated. It was easy to forget how draining Capitol society was, how hard it was to keep a smile on your face and pretend everything was fine.

The First Lady had to be perfect. Of course, nobody had said this explicitly to you, but it'd been heavily implied through the barrage of routines explained to you upon Coriolanus' election. You were happy for him- this was everything he'd worked for. But you hadn't anticipated the stress of being the woman at his side.

Tabloids criticized you infinitely more, from your clothing to your smile. The wives of the other politicians were kind in theory, but whispered behind your back, not bothering to wait until you were out of earshot to do so. And you could imagine what the men were saying, having caught a lewd comment or two in passing. And Coriolanus...

He was normally doting. Sweet, even. But lately it'd been rare he came to sleep beside you or speak to you at all. If you poked your head into his office and tried to distract him, he'd merely press a kiss to your forehead and shoo you away. You spent hours alone, trying to read or do something, but it was nearly fruitless. You didn't have any friends to go out with, since the other women in your social class had made clear their feelings towards you. The weeks had been empty, and now suddenly he needed you. For appearances.

Staring at the wall while Coriolanus spoke to one of his colleagues, you could feel the numbness consume you. How much more of this could you take? How many more heartless events, critical comments?

Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear now, the buzz of the party only driving it to patter faster. Beside you, Coriolanus was saying your name, but you couldn't focus right now. Blurry vision, quickening breath...

Tearing yourself away, your heels clicked as you hurried out into the hallway, pushing past other guests and ignoring their tittering. Everything was too loud, too fast, and the fist squeezing in your chest was nearly suffocating.

In the echoey space of the hallway, you took great, heaving breaths, the sounds of the party muffled. Setting a hand over your heart, you willed it to slow down, mind already obsessing over the spectacle you'd surely made on your way out here. Begging yourself to calm, you felt your knees shake.

Footsteps sounded behind you, and you turned to see Coriolanus standing there, expression firm. Tilting your head back against the wall, you closed your eyes, not in any state for whatever he was about to say.

"You need to come back in," he said, and you heard him come closer, shiny shoes on tile.

"I can't," you breathed, hand on your chest flattening. "I-"

"It wasn't a question." You opened your eyes, taking in his cold eyes and clenched jaw. Coriolanus reached out, clasping your wrist. "You've already got people talking about the way you ran out here. Now come with me."

"No!" you burst out, tanking yourself away. He paused, looking at you in disbelief. Freezing under his stare, you cast your gaze to the floor. "I can't do it. It's too much-"

"What is?"

You swallowed, daring to meet his eyes. "All of it...I...all these events and keeping up appearances..."

"You live in comfort," he interjected, blue eyes boring into you. "I've given you everything you could want and all you have to do is stand by my side."

"It's so much more than that," you whispered, and he lifted his chin.

"Tell me then," he said coldly.

He wasn't going to listen. Even if you poured your heart out right here in the hallway, he wasn't in any place to hear what you were saying. So you just stared at him, eyes filling with tears.

"That's what I thought." Adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket, he firmly said, "I'll give you a few minutes to collect yourself. And then I expect you to join me back inside." You shut your eyes as you walked away, not caring if he saw the tears start to run down your cheeks.

Eyes glued to the door after he closed it, you knew one thing for certain. There was no way you were going back into that party.

Twenty minutes later found you at home, pacing back and forth across the length of your room. You hadn't bothered to tell Coriolanus that you'd left, only sending the driver back for him. One way or another, he would be informed.

Shakily, you dropped to your knees, clasping the post of your bed and willing yourself to calm down. The pressure of the past few weeks had finally caught up to you, it seemed. Your body slumped against the bed as you cried, chest heaving. The post was the only stable thing in your storm, and you clung to it like a lifeline, the skirt of your pretty pink dress spread around you. On the car ride home, you'd ripped your hair from the updo you'd constructed halfheartedly at the beginning of the night, and now it cascaded over your back messily.

It felt like hours that you sat there, tears pouring from your eyes, the fist in your chest feeling more like a rock now. You sniffled and tried to breathe, but distress kept crashing over you like a wave. Every time you thought you had a firm hold on your emotions again, they shattered, leaving you back where you started.

Surely your makeup was ruined by now, and your skirt was probably wrinkled beyond belief from your crouching position. Kicking your heels away, you found little satisfaction in the clatter it made. Sinking your face into the bed, you let your arms fold around your head. Maybe you would fall asleep like this. You had the brief thought to get out of your dress, but your legs felt too weak. No, better to stay here and rest. It would be better tomorrow; it had to be.

You could have sworn you heard a knock on your door, but you ignored it. If it was your maid, she wouldn't enter without your call. The door opened, and your breath became shaky again. Lifting your head and steadying a hand over your heart, you whispered, "I'm fine. Just leave me be."

The hand that touched your back didn't belong to your maid. You could smell roses, and it calmed you some, your shoulders slumping as the hand soothed up and down your back. "Darling..."

Giving a little sob, you whipped around, burying your face in Coriolanus' chest. He held fast to you, palm at your crown, other arm around your waist. You felt yourself calm, quicker than you would have imagined. For hours now you'd been trying to do so, and he'd managed it in seconds.

There had only been a few times before that you'd let yourself get emotional in front of him, trying to maintain the perfect image he craved beside his own. You always kept a smile on your face, always had a sweet word for him. But tonight, you'd grown tired and completely lost control over your mask. It had slipped and broken, and now he was soothing what was underneath.

"What happened, sweetheart?" he murmured, hand stroking over your hair. You sniffled, hand finding the collar of his shirt. When you lifted your head, risking a look into his eyes, he nodded once, lifting your fingers from his shirt and pressing a kiss to them. "Okay, okay."

Sitting you up against the bed, he surveyed you, something close to sympathy in his eyes. Then, in a quiet voice, he murmured, "Let's get out of your dress."

"No," you whimpered, reaching for him again.

Coriolanus sighed, getting to his feet and disappearing into the closet. He returned holding your favorite silky nightdress, a short, silky pink thing that matched the dress you had on currently. You let him lift you to sit on the mattress and unzip your dress, shifting so he could get it off and drape it over a nearby chair. "Lift your arms." You did so begrudgingly, and he slipped your nightdress over your head, straightening it out by your waist.

"Just lay down," he soothed, guiding you to lay down and pulling the covers over you. "We can talk about it in the morning. I promise." Already drifting off, you nodded, lifting a heavy arm and extending it to him.

He watched you fondly, hand over your thigh and rubbing gently. You mumbled, "Stay?" and he only hesitated a second before nodding.

As he undressed, you closed your eyes, feeling as though you were in a bubble. The second he'd put his arms around you, all the hurt from the past while became background noise. You had much you wanted to say to him, but it could wait until tomorrow.

Climbing into bed behind you, Coriolanus' arms wound around your waist, drawing you back into him and laying a kiss to your head. He whispered, "Go to sleep, darling. You can sleep."

As you were claimed by sleep, you heard him whisper, "I'm sorry for what I said." Reaching down, you squeezed his hand, and he pressed a fresh kiss to your hair.

You slept better that night than you had in weeks.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Seeing Stars 3

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world’s most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: Guess this is happening.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

"I can't believe you won," Bonita chimes. 

"Uh, yeah, I told you to just claim the prize," you mutter. 

"And I told you," she pulls you off the subway, "it has to be the ticket holder." 

"Right. You could say you're me." 

"Didn't you read the email?" She huffs as you drag your feet behind her. You hate Manhattan. 

"I skimmed." 

"They have to check ID at the door. As your plus one, I had to submit a bunch of stuff. Didn't you?" She hooks her arm through yours as she urges you through the New York rush. 

You grumble. It's like the universe is laughing in your face. Or hers. It should've been her prize. She's the one who likes all that stuff. As much as you don't want to spit in her face, you're not very happy to spend a rare day off somewhere you don't want to be. 

You're a good friend. That's why you're doing this. That's it. You'll get through it for her. In spite of her. 

You find her waiting where she promised. She's taking selfies right outside the doors of Stark Tower, unbothered by those passing by. You nudge her and hiss, "you're in the way." 

"About time. You're almost late." She lowers her phone and bats her fake eye lashes at her. Oh, she went all out. You thought the sweater and jeans was a fine choice. 

"Almost, but I'm not," you chirp. 

"Lighten up! This is going to be the greatest days of our lives," she squeals and claps, sending her phone to the ground. You let a sigh out quietly. She's so happy. You'll keep the snide remarks to yourself. 

You bend to pick up her phone and hand it over. She snatches it and giggles, "I wonder if I could livestream the tour." 

"Just... enjoy it," you utter. You don't need her holding up her phone like a tourist. No shame, you swear. 

"Woah, hey," you stumble as someone clamours into you. "Sorry, I didn't see you there. Guess I should've looked down." 

The man's hands cling to your arms as he keeps you on your feet. You pull away and spin to face him. Bonita makes an inhuman noise. 

It's him. Steve Rogers. Again. 

"You guys lost?" He asks. 

You look at Bonita. She vibrates with excitement, "um, we won! Er. Oh! We're here because we won the tour and you're supposed to be there and all the others and--" 

"Ha, yes, I am running behind." He says, “uh, I guess you can come in with me.” 

“Oh wow,” Bonita exclaims. “Thanks so much, Captain. I mean Mr. Rogers. No. Er...” 

“Steve’s fine,” he chuckles. “So, you two were at the convention?” 

“Yes, we got a photo,” she affirms. 

He opens the door and waves you ahead of him. You wait for Bonita to take the lead. You reluctantly follow as Steve tails you. 

“I thought you were familiar.” 

“Oh, no, you must meet so many people,” Bonita slows so that he can catch up and you sidle around them, happy enough to take the rear. 

“Eh, yeah, it can get a bit much.” 

“Sounds miserable,” you mutter, then cringe as you remember his super hearing. Oops. 

“I’m sure the rest are waiting,” he stops at a door and puts in a number on the keypad. It flashes red and buzzes. “Ugh, I always forget.” Instead, he moves to look into the dark lens higher up. An ultraviolet flare runs over his eye and the door unlocks. “I can doing that.” 

He opens the door again, a gentleman straight out of the 40s. Once more, you are stuck between the two of them. He points you down the hall to a private elevator. You get on. 

You bob impatiently as Bonita inserts herself between you and Steve. You stare at the reflective doors and let your vision blur. 

“So, um, is the shield here?” She asks. “Not to be lame or anything.” 

“Oh, sure, maybe you could see some of the prototype suits? I think there’s still a few hanging around,” Steve answers. 

“That’s so cool,” she chimes. 

You struggle not to roll your eyes. Instead, you focus and find another pair observing you in the mirrored surface before you. You quickly glance away from Steve’s gaze. 

Finally, your floor comes. You assume since the doors ding and Steve steps ahead of you. You follow him out into a spacious room. You can tell by the windows alone that it’s the very top of tower. 

“There you are, Capsicle,” someone calls over. 

You turn in the direction of the voice as Bonita grabs your arm and points at the dark-haired man. You know who he is. He’s on too many magazine covers and blogs not to. Tony Stark. He stands amid the group of his fellow avengers. 

“I found our lucky winners,” Steve says. 

“Bonita, and er, well, she won,” she pokes you as she introduces you. “Erm, we’re super excited.” 

You stare dully. You want to lie, for her. You do your best; a nod. 

“I remember you two,” Bucky’s voice surprises you. It’s only then you notice him sitting away from the rest of them, lazily flipping a knife. “You had a photo.” 

“Yes, that’s us!” Bonita blusters. 

“Well, ladies, welcome to the tower, these are the big boys... and girls.” Stark steps in front of the rest, “you’ve met Steverino here, and apparently his sidekick, The Raven.” Bucky scoffs as he stands and sheaths the knife. “Not to be cocky but I assume you know the rest of us.” 

“I do!” Bonita declares, “but er...” she looks at you. You half-nod and half-shrug. “It’s Tony Stark!” 

“I know that.” 

“Who doesn’t?” He winks. 

You grumble and his chin tilts slightly in affront. 

“That’s Thor! And Black Widow and Scarlet Witch, and Vision, and Hawkeye, and Hulk...” she goes down the list as you lose track and a little bit of interest. It’s your turn in Scrabble, you feel the notification buzz in your pocket. 

“What? Were you caught in the ice with this one?” Stark jabs Steve with a snicker. “You don’t know the world’s greatest heroes?” 

You stare back at him. “Nice tower, I guess.” 

“Ice cold,” he whistles, “I’ll leave this one to you, Vis. She’s about your speed,” he turns and struts away. 

“It’s your tour,” the woman with the short red bob says; the widow? 

“Contractual obligation but far from my idea,” he counters. “Hey, Banner, how about you take the lead. PhD or whatnot, I’m sure you give a hell of a lecture.” 

“We can go.” You offer and Bonita elbows you. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Steve insists, “we’re all going on the tour. Right, Tony?” 

“Hm, let me grab a whiskey first.” 

[thetxtdevil]

hi hi kween

just read "getting caught" and hgdtykbc omg 😮‍💨 your writing is gonna kill me someday (pls never stop 🛐🛐)

could you now pls write the reader getting caught by the boys???? any way you prefer

thank you thank you thank you 😘

--nsfw--

Yeonjun

You finally did it, you finally got a vibrater. Pink and bendy you switch the settings feeling the buzz tingling your hand. You smile to yourself excited to start using it soon, but how soon is too soon? Looking at the time you debate, Yeonjun is coming home in an hour would that be enough time or is it possible to wait it out until later. Entranced by the smooth texture of the toy and the low vibrations you could feel your groin burning for something. Maybe a quick session won't hurt. Slipping your bottoms off and lifting your shirt, you start rolling pinching your nipples getting yourself excited. Turning the toy on at the lowest setting then dipping it into your folds lifting it up to barely touch your clit. What was supposed to be a few minutes became an hour. Yeonjun open your door to greet you only to be greeted by you fucking yourself. The sight alone was enough for him to get hard. He notices your wrists cramping, aw poor baby needs help. The dip of the bed and a soft caress of your thigh brought your attention seeing the man's quirked eyebrows above his lustful gaze.

Soobin

Your damn computer lost energy from the hours of use now you're sneaking into Soobin's room to get his laptop in desperate need to finish a level of your game. Lifting up the screen you look throughout the desktop trying to find the game's icon. You then notice a folder titled 'secret' what?? is this his secret diary. You felt like a teenage girl feeling giddy looking into a private matter and went ahead and clicked on it listing 'video1', 'video2', and so on. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, what videos could possibly be secret. The mouse turns into a hand pointing at 'video1' a new page pops up instantly fading into a sexual scene that made your heart drop. A man on top of a women who was spread eagle getting the eat out of her lifetime. The camera focuses on the women's pussy clearly intended for the male gaze but you couldn't stop watching how the man flicks his tongue. So invested in the movie you didn't notice your hand brushing up your thigh then to your cunt nor did you notice Soobin behind you watching in terror. But all embarrassment was pushed aside when he hears you groan at the new position on the screen, Soobin notes that he should try the same exact mating press on you.

Beomgyu

"Uhhh yes, shit" Beomgyu hears you while walking past your bedroom door. He smirks thinking of what fun you must be having. Wait, you're having fun? With someone else? His mouth turns downward, guilt building up in his stomach from the curiosity consuming him. His hand slowly turns the door knob cracking the door open. Who can possibly be with you right now when it should be him. Like a brick hitting his head, he instantly felt dizzy seeing your pretty legs wide open and your dainty little fingers caressing, circling your clit along with your very wet folds. Drooling, hunger rushed through his body then into his dick. At least you weren’t giving yourself to someone else, "B-beomgyu s'good" shit now he has a choice to make, to watch or to join

Taehyun

Your boyfriend is gone on a tour with his band and you're at home feeling needy. You two call each other often no matter of the time difference. One night horniness takes over you, wearing nothing but Taehyun's favorite lacy panties you own to bed after a very steamy shower. A familiar tune lights up your ears looking over to see your phone showing Tae's face indicating he was calling. Quickly answering the call you lay down on the bed, grasping every syllable Taehyun speaks. You felt warm, happy to hear his voice, lost in the raspy tone you let your hand travel down to tease your free nipple then to the material covering your cunt. You hum to make it seem like you're listening. Fingers dipping into your wetness you imagine your boyfriend being with you, above you. Without your knowledge your lewd wet sound traveled through your speaker right into Tae's ears making the man smirk. Still humming and sighing through the phone answering to nothing but complete silence. "Are you touching yourself, love?" the man asks breaking the silence.

Huening Kai

You were feeling bad, really really bad for the way you're looking at the plushie Kai gave you. Kai noticed how much you adored the cute grey penguin every time you visited so he gave it to you. Overly thankful you cherished it, yes the plushie was cute but it smelt like Kai, the soft warm feeling it gave felt like Kai. Now you're horny and you want to tarnish its innocence. Ugh this is dirty and crud. Kneeling on the bed, knees far apart, your hand slides down to your already drenched cunt grinding against your hand. You groan at the electric feeling wanting more. Pleasure fills your stomach getting desperate you lean your head down on Kai's plushie. Breathing in the musky scent of Kai that still lingers your fingers fuck you from behind. "Hey, y/n I have a question-" Kai bursts through your door stopping in his tracks when he notices your ass out and fingers deep in your hole. What can a poor man do when he sees his crush in all her glory and face deep in his favorite penguin plushie? He watches...

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[flippinpancakes64]

cullens with a drunk reader??

The Cullens with a Drunk Reader

Thank you for requesting and hopefully you like this!

Also quick disclaimer I have never been drunk before so this is just gonna be based on what I've seen in like movies or TV shows

Please tell me if I got something wrong <3

Edward:

He thinks you are hilarious

Whether you're a happy drunk, an angry drunk, or a sad drunk, he loves it all

When he hears your thoughts normally, he can hear all these things that you never say

Well when you're drunk it just sort of all comes out

Is more than happy to help you walk somewhere, get you more to drink, and hold your hair back (if it's long enough)

Eventually though he'll put a stop to it

If it gets to the point where he can't hear any more of your thoughts and knows that you are on the verge of blacking out, he is putting an end to the night

Will hold you close the rest of the night

And he is at your beck and call when you wake up the next morning

Alice:

Again, she thinks you're so funny

Every time that you trip, stumble, or slur your words she is laughing her ass off

Loves listening to whatever you have to say

She would love to take you places or have you try to do stuff

Of course, she wouldn't let you get hurt

But she would find endless amusement out of seeing you fall on the stairs

She's not one to stop your drinking

She has been able to see your future for the whole night

She sees that you are still gonna wake up with a hangover whether you have 5 or 10 drinks

So she just lets you have your fun

Again is preparing stuff for you in the morning though

Jasper:

He gets just a little annoyed

Don't get him wrong he thinks you're amusing

But his idea of a fun Saturday night isn't making sure you don't break something or hurt yourself

So he mostly limits you to one room of the house + an activity

One time he got you to sit still for three hours while you were drunk just coloring in some old coloring book he found laying around

His favorite is karaoke night though

Will put a random sing-along song on the TV and watch you sing for hours

He'll stop you after a while though

With just a simple "okay enough fun go to bed"

Has something made for you to eat when you wake up

Rosalie:

Ok I have some thoughts about this one

We all know her backstory

A group of drunk men + her fiance violently and brutally SA'd her and killed her

So I don't think she would be too fond of alcohol

So you drinking around her would bring up those old memories

She tries not to take it out on you, though

Mostly would just leave the house

She'd be back in the morning though

If you drink excessively though, she would get angry and yell at you about it

But every once in a while she understands

Just don't drink around her

At least not for a while

Emmett:

He loves it

He just finds it so funny

He can tease you endlessly and if you're too drunk all you'll be able to reply with is some slurred nonsense

He's an enabler though

Will challenge you to beer pong and other drinking games

Half of the drinks you take are from him

It's not that he means to get you blackout, it's just that he's having fun and forgets that you can't consume endless amounts of alcohol

He won't put a limit on you though

He would only notice that you need to stop if you pass out of throw up

And then he's in panic recovery mode

Is a little embarrassed and concerned the next morning that he let you get that out of hand

He repeats the cycle though

Esme:

I feel like she'd be a wine girly

Or like a brunch mimosa kinda girl

If she was alive, that is

I feel like that was her when she was alive, anyway

She wouldn't know what to do with someone who is fully drunk

Her past experiences have only been with people who were a little buzzed

She does think you're amusing though

But she'll be a lot more hover-y

Won't let you go anywhere on your own

You are in bed by 12 at the latest

You wake up to a feast and every single headache pill the local pharmacy had

Carlisle:

He's a little more concerned

He has people come into the clinic for alcohol related injuries (overconsumption, drunk driving, various accidents while intoxicated, etc.)

He knows the damage it can cause

Also if you are younger than 21 good try he is not letting you drink

But other than that he is a mama bear

Watching you very closely

Literally counting the ounces of alcohol you have to make sure you stay under a healthy limit

And don't even think about leaving the house

He's a bit too worried to find your shenanigans funny

But that's okay

He makes up for it by being there for you

Bella Swan:

Another one who is just amused

She never got out much

She regrets never having drank alcohol while it could still affect her

Unfortunately that means she does live a little vicariously through you

Is playing bartender and giving you everything she makes

They're pretty bad

But you still drink them

Doesn't realize she's given you too much until you literally fall to the floor and pass out

Then she's like "oh shit"

Doesn't really know what to do though

So she has Carlisle take care of you

Apologizes profusely the next morning

Would still do it again though

[xazse]

Hihihihihii!!! Just saw ur post so deciding to req (sort of ??????) for the first time!!

If your comfortable, could you write dom!scara x bratty fem!reader where reader was just being a stupid lil brat and scara decides to punish them. IF COMFORTABLE, could u also add some sex toys or spanking

Tyyyy! <3 your writing ><

Dom!Scaramouche x Fem!Reader

Notes: sorry it’s so short, I didn’t know if you wanted penetration or not so I excluded it, I’m so happy you enjoy my writing, btw if see this before anyone else lmk if you want me to add penetration. <333

Pairings: Dom!Scaramouche x Fem!Reader

Tags: Overstimulation, edging, spanking, use of vibrator, a little short sorry!

You had been in this position for at least an hour, your pretty white panties on display for Scaramouche to see, oh and he reveled in it, your embarrassment as he had bent you over on all fours and had you arch whilst spreading your legs. He had found the need to tie your hands behind your back as well, you kept attempting to rub at your neglected clit every time in disobedience, and he just wouldn’t tolerate that.

You can’t see him from your position on the bed but you know he has that look, the look that screams disgust, like he’s training a mutt, and from his point of view he most likely is. You hear him rummage though what sounds like cardboard, and some other clunking sounds. Your cunt practically purring in anticipation for what he has in store for you. The next thing you feel is slim but long fingers pulling your panties to the side and Scara slipping something small on your clit, the tightness of your panties keeps said object from moving.

A vibrator, one you don’t recognize at that, curiosity consumes you, you open your mouth to talk but before you can get a word out, a harsh slap is delivered to your asscheek, a loud whine leaves your lips, not expecting that at all.

“No talking” he says outloud

“Kuni- you never stated rules” you drawl out

Another slap is delivered to the same cheek, now that makes you flinch, the sting in the area is already deciding to show itself. He presses on the vibrator seemingly adjusting it as he sees fit.

Then he moves around the room a little more before moving back into the position: standing behind you. The vibrator starts up making you jump, it’s at a slow setting but nonetheless it still has your hips moving slowly, nonetheless it still has you biting your lip and groaning lowly.

A few moments goes by with the soft buzzing of the vibration around the room, then he presses a button which cranks the vibrator up high, too high for you to automatically adjust to: your thighs close around it and you move erratically, mewling scaras name out loud like a mantra. You can hear his wicked cruel laugh from behind as you attempt to shift your body in any sort of way to give your cunt some type of release.

It feels so good, you don’t stifle your moans, freely being as loud as you want: just how he likes it, A hand comes across your ass again adding stimulation with the vibrator, Scara repeatedly slaps your ass and messes with the vibrator going from low to high to high to low over and over. Every time you so much as approach your high he quickly rips it away from you by completely turning off the vibrator.

The white fabric of your panties gives him a view of just how soaked you are, with how their sticking to your folds, scara decides in that moment of looking at your fucked out body that you both will be here for a couple of hours as he edges you until he sees you’ve corrected your behavior.

[animehideout]

LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

PART TWO.

Read part 1 here.

Read part 3 here

Gojo Satoru x Fem! reader.

a/n: I hope you enjoy this part, in the next parts things will get more exciting and heated so stay updated..

warnings: At some point this story will contain SMUT parts.

words count: 1127.

You awoke to a pounding headache, your phone ringing none stop. You had trouble sleeping at night, the house was spacious and it felt really cold and empty.

"Shit, it's already 10 am," you muttered upon realizing the time.

Picking up the phone, you anticipated the caller is your nosy cousin.

"Morning," you greeted, met with her enthusiastic response. "Everything okay? Why'd you call?"

"Come on, spill! Did the curse break?" she asked.

With a sigh, you knew this was none of her fucking business.

"No. You know it takes time, right? It's gradual."

"Ah, how was it, then?" she inquired.

"How was what?" you raised an eyebrow, already prepared for her persistent questioning.

“Having sex with the famous Gojo Satoru?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart raced. Should you lie? He didn't touch you he hadn't even stayed the night.

"G-good," you lied, "Gotta go now," you added, ending the call with a flush on your face.

You'd always fantasized about your first time, picturing a softly lit bedroom, under the touch of your lover, while making love passionately. But, all those dreams shattered the moment you married Satoru. Neither of you had any intention in touching each other.

You stretched out of bed to prepare breakfast "Am I gonna live like this forever?”

•At Jujutsu High•

"Oh, Gojo-sensei! What brings you here?" asked Yuji.

"Huh? Teaching!" Gojo replied, putting his blindfold on.

"But you just got married," Yuji remarked.

Gojo patted Yuji's head and smiled, "Then who's going to teach my precious students if I'm not here?"

"Oh, about that, Principal Yaga said Mei Mei and Utahime-sensei will handle it."

"Hah? No!"

"Bothered, Gojo Satoru?" Mei Mei said in a seductive tone as she approached.

"Shouldn't you be next to your wife? Snuggling?" she teased.

"And let you teach my students? Oh no."

"Utahime, you're here! See, Gojo left his wife all alone in bed just to teach."

"I give it to you, Gojo. You're committed to teaching," joked Utahime.

"Satoru," said Principal Yaga, appearing in the classroom.

"Been on the phone with your wife," he added.

"Huh, why?" questioned Satoru.

"Well, you're a married couple, and teaching will consume all your time. So, she'll start teaching here as well, and both of you can spend time together," he explained.

Satoru froze but maintained a blank, poker face.

"She doesn't even have cursed energy. What do you expect her to teach? Rocket science?"

“Huh he doesn't want his wife here?” whispered Utahime.

“I mean you know both of them were forced into this, bet he didn't even fuck her” said Mei Mei in her usual amused tone.

"I know, but she's skilled in martial arts and weapon use. She'll excel at training your students."

"Did she accept your offer?" Satoru asked through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, she was happy about it. She said she'll be here in an hour."

“So should be we leave, since Gojo is here?” Asked Utahime.

“Leave? hah we've come all the way just to leave” Replied Mei Mei “also it's a great opportunity to meet your wife, Gojo.. and celebrate”

“Celebrate?” asked Megumi.

“Yeah your step mom will start working here, she deserves a good welcoming”

“Quite that Mei Mei, dont make a buzz out of it” said Gojo in an annoyed tone.

“come on, Gojo.. Don't spoil the fun.. don't you think your lovely wife is deserving of a celebration ”

• Time Skip •

Y/n's Pov

It was my first time at Jujutsu High, unlike my siblings, cousins, and now husband. I've always been at home, locked away because my family feared that curses might harm me and I won't be able to defend myself. So, I trained at home, learning martial arts and weapon use as my only means of self-defense.

Now, stepping in as a teacher, life indeed full of surprises.

End Of Pov

As you walked inside, someone snatched you into an empty corner.

"What the hell do you think you're doing y/n?" asked Gojo, placing his giant hand on your mouth.

You pushed it away, frowning "Huh?" you raised an eyebrow.

"You'll go to Principal Yaga now, apologize, and tell him that you changed your mind and rejected his offer."

"And who do you think you are to order me around?" you fought back.

"You have no business here, y/n. You're making this more complicated for both of us."

"So, you expect me to be locked in your house forever? Sleeping, eating, and looking out the window?"

"Yes, but not forever, its until you get rid of that curse, and then we'll divorce."

"You're insane. Get out of my way," you said, walking past him but he grabbed your forearm, pulling you closer, his face a few inches away from yours, you could feel his hot breath.

"You're making a mistake."

"Don't worry. I'm here to teach, not to chased after you" you spat back, freeing yourself and leaving him standing there.

....

..

“SURPRISE” everyone screamed their lungs out the moment you stepped into the school's common room.

New faces, you only recognized Principal Yaga's face since he was invited to your wedding.

“Hello y/n sensei!! I'm Itadori Yuji, This is Fushiguro and this is Kugisaki.. we'll be your students” he said in a cheerful tone, giving you a genuine contagious smile.

You smile back, “nice to meet you Itadori-kun” .

“Y/N” started Mei Mei “Congrats for this post, and congrats for your wedding as well” she smiled giving you a hug.

“we heard a lot about you” added Utahime hugging you as well.

Gojo finally joined you, silently leaning against the door frame, observing as you interacted with his students and collegues.

“GOJO!! this beauty deserves a honey moon, can't believe you. You know teaching can wait” Mocked Mei Mei trying to embarrass you.

“Yeah true, newly wed couples should have other things to do instead of teaching” Teased Utahime, trying to offend both of you.

As he began to speak, you cut him off, "Nah, don't worry about us. We already talked and decided to postpone our honeymoon," you said, smiling, fully aware of their intentions.

Gojo approached, wrapping his strong arms around you. "Yeah, y/n and I did talk things out," he stated, leaning in to whisper in your ear, "I'll let this slip once. Don't get comfortable, acting like a real wife."

"You're the one clinging to me right now by the way" you retorted, prompting him to move away.

"Do you see that, Utahime? Not even a spark of love or respect between them," smirked Mei Mei.

Gojo's Pov

Is that so, y/n? Trying to embarrass me and act like a real wife now. I'll need to put you in your place, and I think Utahime and Mei Mei might be useful this time...another woman will definitely push you away.

End of Pov

Taglist 🫶🏻:

@hermitkerm @smolbeanzzz @eolivy @sanriosatoru @khaleesihavilliard @ryumurin @bookswillfindyouaway

[ghoulsbounty]

Okay! Boyd Crowder request pretty please. How about some short headcanons/ thoughts about reader wearing one of his shirts. You know those ones from S2 and 3? Like it’s a warm day and reader shows up to Johnny’s bar in some denim shorts, a crop top and one of Boyd’s shirts open with the sleeves rolled up. I think he’d loose his goddamn mind. Preferably no smut, but I know the request kinda leans into it so maybe something at the end. idk! you do you! Thank you!

Wearing His Shirt

Boyd Crowder x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight spoilers for season 2/3, alludes to smut but no actual mention, a little angst, comfort, fluff and a happy ending.

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: Anon, this turned more into a little fic/scenario moment rather than a headcanon, I hope that's okay and you enjoy it still! I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

Boyd likes to think of himself as a considerate partner. Although your relationship is still relatively new, he takes pride in picking up on the small details that bring you joy or cause you distress, often understanding your needs before you articulate them. However, with the recent acquisition of his cousin's bar and the complexities of the Black Pike deal, his focus on you has diminished more than he'd like to acknowledge. His once regular check-ins and sweet messages have become sporadic and hurried, often cut short by pressing business matters. The late nights and brief phone calls have led to him being less present both physically and emotionally, and you're reaching your breaking point.

Johnny's bar buzzes with activity, the low murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses creating a lively symphony in the dimly lit space. The familiar scent of beer and faint traces of smoke hang in the air. As you push open the door and step inside, the room's energy seems to shift, heads turning to acknowledge your presence with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. Their gazes, like predators sizing up their prey, linger on you, but your focus is singular.

Boyd stands behind the bar, a rag casually draped over his shoulder, the dim light casting a warm glow on his features. He engages in a conversation with a patron who is leaning heavily on the counter, gesticulating animatedly. Boyd nods along, listening intently, but the moment he spots you approaching, a noticeable change comes over him. His eyes lock onto you with an intensity that makes the bustling room seem to fall away.

As you saunter towards him, his gaze follows your every step, his attention entirely consumed by your presence. The customer’s words fade into the background, reduced to a dull hum as Boyd's focus shifts solely to you. His eyes drift down your body, taking in every detail of your appearance, from the way your eyes shine as you look at him to the confident way you carry yourself. It's as if he's seeing you for the first time all over again, his expression a mix of admiration and longing.

You feel a spark of satisfaction knowing that you can still capture his attention so completely, even amidst the chaos of his busy bar. As you reach the counter, Boyd's lips curl into a slow smile, the kind that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. You watch as he gestures with a hand to the customer he was previously talking with and you smile at the older gentleman as he rises from his seat, disappearing behind you.

Boyd leans slightly closer, his eyes never leaving yours, making you feel like the most important person in the room. In that moment, surrounded by the lively chatter and clinking glasses, it’s clear that no one else matters to him but you.

Seeing you in his shirt stirs something deep within him, a quiet sense of possessiveness that isn’t about control or dominance, but rather a satisfying feeling of connection. He appreciates the way you fill out the shirt, how the navy and grey fabric drapes over your frame, hinting at the contours beneath.

To the other men in the establishment, the glimpse of your bare thighs in those fitted cut-offs or the swell of your breasts in the thin crop underneath his shirt would undoubtedly set their hearts racing. Boyd, too, couldn’t help but appreciate that enticing sight. However, what truly struck a chord with him was witnessing your subtle proclamation of his ownership over you amidst a room bustling with other men. You belong to him, and he certainly belongs to you. 

You approach him with slow, deliberate strides until just the counter is between you, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of admiration and desire. A mischievous spark dances in his eyes as he leans casually against the bar, his fingertips tingling with the desire to caress the fabric, to revel in the warmth of your skin beneath. Yet, just before his hand extends, he halts, a silent gesture of restraint, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a thrilling shiver down your spine. With a deliberate movement, he clasps his hands firmly on the counter, his touch reserved yet charged with an unspoken promise of what could be.

His voice, usually smooth and confident, carries a subtle huskiness as he speaks. "Well now, ain't that a sight," he remarks, his drawl laced with amusement. "Looks like my shirt found itself in the finest of company today."

"Been feeling mighty lonely lately. Ain't been getting much attention, you know," you confide in him, a playful lilt in your voice as you tilt your head. "Thought maybe borrowing your shirt might do the trick, you reckon?"

Straightening up, Boyd casts a deliberate gaze around the room, a silent command for everyone present to divert their attention away from the captivating vixen who's currently pouting at him. Once he's ensured that all eyes have shifted elsewhere, he snaps his focus back to you with a confident smirk.

"Well, darlin'," he drawls, his voice low and rough, "seems like you've succeeded in getting everyone's attention, mine included."

"Hard work, nowadays," you sigh dramatically, and he chuckles softly as he leans across the bar, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly soft kiss, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. "Do I get to keep it for long?" you whisper, your voice barely audible amidst the buzz of the bar.

"Have I been neglecting you, baby?" He grins as he leans back slightly, his hand reaching out to casually adjust the rolled sleeves of his shirt that adorns your figure. "Is that why you've decided to grace my fine establishment with your beauty, nearly causing every man in this joint to suffer a near fatal heart attack, hm?"

His tone is playful, but beneath the jest, there's a hint of genuine concern. He watches you closely, searching your eyes for any sign of discontent or longing, his fingers tracing the fabric of his shirt on your skin with a tender familiarity.

You giggle, running your thumb along his forearm as he continues to absentmindedly toy with the fabric. "Maybe that was the plan all along. Finally, some quality time for me with no customers or associates around, huh? I can be your number one priority," you tease, the playful tone in your voice ringing through the air. But your laughter falters as you notice a brief flicker of something in his expression, a momentary hardening before it softens again.

His gaze meets yours, and you can see the conflict playing out in his eyes, the struggle to balance his personal and professional life. There's a vulnerability there that he rarely shows, a glimpse behind the confident façade he wears for the world. You reach out, your hand gently squeezing his arm, silently offering reassurance and understanding.

As he pulls back from you, a fleeting worry crosses your mind. Have you said too much? Pushed him too far? Though Boyd has never so much as raised his voice at you, his sudden movement sparks a flicker of concern. You watch in silence as he takes the rag from his shoulder, tossing it down onto the bar with a resolute thud, and steps out from behind the counter, closing the distance between you at last.

In that moment of uncertainty, his words wash over you like a soothing balm. "You are always my first priority," he murmurs, his voice soft and intimate, filled with a sincerity that melts away your apprehension. His arms slide under the shirt you wear, encircling your waist as he draws you close to his chest.

As you nestle against him, his gaze meets yours, and you see the earnestness in his eyes. "I'm sorry I haven't been present," he admits, his voice tinged with remorse. "But I'm going to fix that."

"I know," you assure him with a smile, your hands tenderly resting on his chest as you lean in to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

He returns your smile, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks in a hushed tone, meant only for you to hear. "Let's go in the back," he murmurs softly, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "I've got a feeling I need to remind you just how much you mean to me."

[steppingonyourshadow]

Complete translations of song concept blurbs for Xiao Zhan's album Wo Men

These are provided by Xiao Zhan Studio with each track and sourced from QQ Music.

We (track 2)

With the continued development of civilised society, we keep advancing as a species. Everyone appears to live within constraints of common morality, following the herd, hoping they're upholding kindness, trying to live a life of virtue. But no matter what stage we're at, no one can avoid personally experiencing every facet of humanity. How can we maintain a strong and stubborn passion for life and become an invincible "good person"?

All Alike (track 3)

Life is like a street path on which we are all tourists, passing each other by in a rush. Most of life's troubles, perhaps our past anxiety, loneliness, lack of direction, every person paralysed for a moment by indecision, all the difficulty and happiness, it's "all alike". Once we're able to take it all in, we still have to keep going, having explored and reflected on all our possibilities. A quick pause doesn't mean we stop moving forward.

Recover (track 4)

We often put on an immaculate shell, armour ourselves and hide our weak spots. Those masks all cover the marks of being knocked around and honed into shape. Those who are trapped by the past hide their scars and become used to saying one thing and thinking another. Face our true inner feelings, don't run from them, learn to accept ourselves. Return "me" to me, to become a better "me".

Firefly (track 5)

The faint glimmer of a firefly at night might be weak, but it's still a reliable source of light, just like the mass of humanity. Through every lit-up screen, these "fireflies" with their faint glow gather strength and emerge into public view, lighting up their own world. Interacting with the world, providing balance to my pride, knowledge when I'm unaware, encouragement when I'm at a loss.

The song makes use of elements such as pedal, the sound of breathing, strings, and piano with a strong "woody" undertone, evoking flickers of embers from burning firewood. Just like the meaning it wishes to express - even the faintest bioluminescence can illuminate the dark and become an indispensable light.

Drifting (track 6)

After experiencing an unknown past, "I" woke in unfamiliar surroundings, marvelous and strange. My wandering journey began here. A stranger in a strange land, should I fear being infiltrated in return or bravely venture forth? In the unknown, there are wonders, dangers, eye-opening sights. It's dazzling, beautiful, tempting, but how do I keep myself from being swallowed up by it and becoming a puppet? By remembering where I came from, and doing my utmost to reach the destination I wish to reach. At the intersection where it's difficult to tell dreamscape from reality, how do I keep from following the herd?

Lighthouse (track 7)

Alone in the middle of the ocean, the lighthouse, the only beacon among the crashing waves, reminds us that on life's path there will always be ups and downs. As a small ship venturing forward, we never know when we might encounter stormy weather. Go into the headwind, unafraid of the wind and the rain, with only the lighthouse in your heart to provide illumination and point the way to our destination.

The swirl of the guitar in the song's arrangement is like the sea, never ceasing, the piano is the glow of the lighthouse in the middle of the ocean, and the vocal is the ship. Whether we're faced with glorious sunlight or a sudden downpour, wishing for us the courage to keep pushing forward.

Soliloquy of the Night Time Wanderer (track 8)

After a busy day of work, do you ever feel lonely while making your own way home? Having moved our social lives online, swiping from one small screen to the next, refreshing and clicking like endlessly, consuming bite-sized content, experiencing a little buzz of companionship through your fingertips. All those lit up screens brighten up our nighttime life in the city. When we rely on the simulated communication of online life, it's as if we're stepping into a wider world. Sometimes walking at night isn't a choice. Perhaps feelings that cannot be hidden like fear and cowardice surround and trap everyone who have no choice but to walk through the night. When the seductive bustle of the night cools and dissipates and the world goes quiet, wishing that every night-time wanderer can find a place to lay their emotional burdens to rest.

Return to Zero (track 9)

Both the wind howling past and the fog gathering on your brow and obscuring your vision are unique encounters on your journey. Looking back, those previously obscured traces gradually appear and become clearer. The song's arrangement creates a quiet but warm atmosphere, the chilly synth paired with strings push the listener toward a time travelling wormhole, returning it all to the beginning, back to the very start. Would you still be as staunch? The path here through glory, obstacles and rejection, all those things make up the you of today. You can look forward to the future, wave goodbye to the past freely. Wishing for you always the courage to return to zero and start from the beginning.

Don't Look Back (track 10)

This song is "my" personal narrative, but it's not only mine. "Don't Look Back" is addressed to me and for every listener. The path ahead might feature aspirations, companionship, bright eyes watching. Carefully, we attempt battle with the world, with highs and lows, scrapes and bruises, unavoidable hesitation and disappointment. But please don't look back, if you move forward, you can scale mountains, cross oceans and see endless beautiful scenery, or pause to enjoy the spice of life. Having arrived here, wherever you go in the future, you will have all your accumulated experiences to call on.

The song's arrangement wants to express through its layered progression the narrator's immovable core. What's ahead may not be an open plain, but it will be an endless path. Just go forward, don't look back.

Good Night (track 11)

On a sleepless night, go out for a midnight snack with company, have some noodles and a bowl of soup. Through the wafting steam, listen quietly to your companion make excited or chill small talk. In this concrete jungle of a city, solitude is our default state, and the ability to process our own sorrows and joys a hard-earned freedom.

As the end point of all the disparate emotions that make up the record, the seemingly melancholy backdrop is filled in with warmth and caring, and understanding of the way humans relate to each other. Learning, growing, hurrying through life for decades on end, no matter what we're after, wishing that on the path forward you have food that suits your palate, warm greetings, and precious understanding and companionship to fill the gaps in each of our hearts. After a busy day, wish yourself and the family or friends by your side a good night.

[rose24207]

Anything for you

Summary: A devoted girlfriend takes deadly measures against anyone who ruins Lando's career, believing her actions are for his benefit, until he discovers the horrifying truth.

Genre: angst, dark, murders

TW: killing, knife, reader literally murdering people

A/N: thought I try something more darker. Huh. English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist pt. 2

Lando sighed, tossing his race gloves onto the table in the motorhome. His face was twisted in frustration, his usual sunny disposition clouded by yet another disastrous race. You leaned against the counter, watching him, your arms folded. He didn’t need to say anything—you already knew the issue.

“The strategy team screwed me over again,” he muttered, running a hand through his curls. “How hard is it to make the right call? I lost points because of their stupid pit stop timing.”

You moved closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. “They’re idiots, Lando. You deserve better.”

He sighed again, leaning into your touch. “I don’t know why I even bother. They never listen to me.”

Your eyes flickered with something darker, something you carefully kept hidden from him. Lando was kind-hearted, passionate, and loyal, but you… you were something else entirely. You would do anything to protect him, to make him happy—even if it meant doing things he would never understand.

“Who was it?” you asked softly.

He frowned, glancing at you. “What do you mean?”

“Who messed up the call?”

Lando shrugged, too consumed by his own frustration to notice the edge in your voice. “Tom. He’s been making mistakes all season.”

Tom. You filed the name away, your mind already whirring.

Later that night, you slipped out of the hotel room while Lando was asleep, his face peaceful for the first time all day. You had memorized Tom’s schedule, his habits, and where he was staying during race weekends. It wasn’t hard—people in the paddock were careless, always posting their whereabouts on social media.

You pulled the black gloves tighter over your hands as you approached his hotel room door. The corridor was quiet, the late hour working in your favor. You knocked lightly, disguising your voice as you called out, “Room service.”

When the door opened, you struck quickly, your gloved hand forcing him back inside before he could react. The knife in your other hand glinted under the dim light of the room.

“Wh—what—” Tom stammered, his eyes wide as he stumbled backward.

“Shh,” you whispered, closing the door behind you. “You’ve caused enough problems, don’t you think?”

His face turned pale. “I-I don’t understand—”

“You ruined Lando’s race today. You’ve ruined so many of his races,” you said, your voice cold and detached. “That’s unforgivable.”

He tried to reason with you, but you didn’t care. All you saw was Lando’s frustration, his disappointment, his anger. And you would do anything to take that away.

When it was over, you left the room as quietly as you had entered, the blood wiped clean from your blade and your tracks covered.

The next morning, the paddock was buzzing with news. Tom hadn’t shown up for his morning briefing, and rumors were spreading. Lando looked up from his phone, frowning.

“Have you heard about Tom?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You sipped your coffee, feigning ignorance. “What about him?”

“They found him in his hotel room,” Lando said, lowering his voice. “He’s… gone. Someone… someone killed him.”

You tilted your head, trying to appear shocked. “Oh my God. That’s horrible.”

“Yeah,” Lando muttered, staring at his phone. “I mean, he wasn’t great at his job, but no one deserves that.”

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his. “I’m so sorry, love. That must be such a shock.”

He nodded, leaning into your touch. “Yeah… I just can’t believe it.”

What he didn’t notice was the way your lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

Weeks passed, and the paddock adjusted to Tom’s absence. Another strategist took his place, and for a while, things seemed to improve. Lando’s mood lifted as his races became smoother, and you reveled in his happiness. But it didn’t last long.

“They did it again!” Lando exclaimed one evening, pacing back and forth in your shared hotel room. “Why can’t they just listen to me? I told them the hard tires wouldn’t work, but no, they thought they knew better!”

You watched him silently, your expression unreadable.

“Who was it this time?” you asked eventually.

“Michael,” Lando said, throwing his hands in the air. “He’s the one who made the final call.”

You nodded, your mind already working.

Michael’s death was messier than Tom’s. He had been more cautious since the first incident, always looking over his shoulder, but it didn’t matter. No one could outsmart you.

You found him in the paddock late one night, working alone in the strategy room. It was almost too easy.

When the news broke the next morning, the paddock was in chaos. Two murders in such a short span of time—it was unprecedented. Security was tightened, and everyone was on edge.

Lando was shaken, but you were there to comfort him, to reassure him that everything would be okay.

“They’re saying it might be related,” Lando told you one evening, his voice hushed. “Both of them were on the strategy team.”

You looked at him, feigning concern. “Do you think someone’s targeting McLaren?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But it’s scary. What if—what if I’m next?”

You shook your head, pulling him into your arms. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” you promised, your voice firm.

And you meant it.

As the weeks turned into months, the pattern continued. Every time someone upset Lando—whether it was a team member, a journalist who wrote a scathing article about him, or even a rival driver who made a careless comment—you made sure they paid the price.

The killings became more elaborate, more calculated. You were careful, always covering your tracks, always ensuring that nothing could be traced back to you. But the thrill of it, the power you felt as you removed anyone who dared to hurt Lando—it was intoxicating.

Lando began to notice the pattern, though he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He started piecing together the timing of the murders, the way they always seemed to align with his complaints.

One night, he confronted you.

“Y/N,” he said hesitantly, his eyes searching yours. “I need to ask you something.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What is it?”

He hesitated, as if unsure how to phrase the question. “Do you… do you know anything about what’s been happening? With the murders?”

You stared at him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Then, you smiled softly. “What makes you think I’d know anything about that?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… weird, you know? The timing, the people… it’s like someone’s trying to protect me.”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on his cheek. “Lando, I love you. I’d do anything for you. But you’re talking like I’m some kind of… of killer.”

He swallowed hard, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I don’t know what to think anymore.”

You kissed him gently, silencing his doubts. “You don’t need to think about it, love. Let the police handle it.”

He nodded, though the uncertainty lingered in his eyes.

As the body count grew, so did the suspicion within the paddock. Investigations were launched, and the media frenzy intensified. But you remained calm, careful, always one step ahead.

Lando, however, was starting to unravel. The weight of the murders, the fear and guilt he carried—it was taking its toll.

One night, as you lay in bed together, he turned to you, his voice barely above a whisper. “Y/N… do you think I’m cursed?”

You frowned, brushing a curl from his forehead. “Why would you say that?”

“Because everyone around me keeps dying,” he said, his voice trembling. “And I don’t know why.”

You pulled him close, holding him tightly. “You’re not cursed, Lando. You’re just unlucky.”

He didn’t respond, but you could feel the tension in his body, the unspoken questions he was too afraid to ask.

The turning point came during the final race of the season. Lando was on the verge of securing a podium finish, but a mistake by his pit crew cost him the race. He was livid, his anger barely contained as he stormed back to the garage.

That night, he didn’t say much, but you could see the fire in his eyes, the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

When you left the hotel room, he didn’t stop you.

You returned hours later, your clothes clean but the faint scent of bleach lingering on your hands. Lando was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

“Lando?” you said softly, closing the door behind you.

He looked up, his eyes red and filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Was it you?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

You froze, your heart pounding. “What are you talking about?”

“The murders,” he said, standing up. “Was it you?”

You stared at him, the mask you’d worn for so long slipping away. “I did it for you,” you said finally, your voice calm. “They hurt you, Lando. They deserved it.”

He took a step back, his face pale. “You… you killed them?”

“I protected you,” you said, your voice steady. “I did what no one else would.”

He shook his head, his hands trembling. “This isn’t protection. This is—this is insane.”

“Everything I did, I did because I love you,” you said, stepping closer.

He didn’t respond, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and betrayal.

For the first time, you felt a flicker of doubt. But it was too late. The blood had already been spilled, and there was no turning back.

Lando never reported you. Whether it was out of fear, love, or guilt, you didn’t know. But something between you shifted that night, an unspoken truth hanging in the air.

You continued to protect him, to eliminate anyone who dared to hurt him. But now, there was a distance between you, a shadow that neither of you could escape.

And yet, you didn’t regret it.

Because in the end, everything you did was for him. And you would do it all over again.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hxxi3, @same1995, @amatswimming

[mastercrownmonday]

Without further ado (Kirby reference?!): new Mistilteinn pfp!!! Magolor Soul banner is still on the way.

If you don't remember (and I wouldn't blame you), the subject of this pfp was decided in March with a poll. I haven't really commented on the results yet—so if you want to see my thoughts and ALSO discover the lore behind my love for the Master Crown, read on, because it has a whole lot to do with this titanic and terrible tree!!!

Here are the results for your reference. There were 48 votes:

I guess I was slightly? ish? surprised Mistilteinn won; I had my not-so-strong bets on Magolor Soul, which came in second. But hey! The ranking was a nice surprise, because clearly the BEST Master Crown is the Master Crown, pure and simple—without some... begrudgingly hijacked, weak-willed catboy wizard in the mix.

I didn't vote officially, but I did ask myself the question: which Master Crown is best!? And I think, if I had voted... I might have gone with the tiny, classic version. (I guess that's why I had to sneak it into the pfp anyway.) I mean, it's so cute! I am sure it would never become a literal accessory to any sort of evil!

If I remember correctly, @katlynthecat bravely arrived on the last day of voting to represent the OG MC. I was happy it got at least one vote, so special thanks to you :)

I was also pleasantly surprised that every form got a vote. Even the cutscene-exclusive Crown shards (which is actually a really cool form imo. it's ominous: inexplicably moving and spitting out a magic aura but showing no other signs of life. spooky)!

With all that in mind, I still don't know if I could pick any one of the Crown's forms as the true overlord. The tree has the most historical significance, though, because the Kirby buzz that RTDLDX caused is what got me seriously invested in the series again (I've been a longtime fan off and on).

Clearly, I was a weakling in terms of Kirby extended lore expertise, because at that point I knew nothing about RTDL and I had never heard of this Magolor character. He seemed popular though. Wonder what his deal is.

...OH! So that's why everyone jokes about the fandom having trust issues from multiple adorable offenders. (I did already know all about Marx. Gotta love that guy.)

Hey... wait a minute. Is the boss of Magolor's game mode... the very artifact that consumed his soul? That's pretty metal. I guess it's sapient? A living little conglomerate of hatred, back after over a decade to torment the fandom darling? Though it would earn no thanks... no acknowledgement... it crafted a perfect, Bible-referencing hellscape for Magolor's torment, returning long after time had forgotten its days as the big bad to prove to theorists once and for all that it was alive, it was autonomous, and it was angry!?

...I had to respect that. I respected that a lot, actually. I liked Magolor but I liked the Crown even more. (That renewed passion for the Kirby series is actually what brought me here to Tumblr!)

For a little comparison, here are some of my first drawings of the Master Crown (circa June last year?) compared to this most recent one:

In the left image, you can actually see the first inklings of Master Crown Soul! 😳 It didn't take me long to start cooking up some ideas to flesh out its backstory, and I think the design and themes have come a long way since then. (some of which anyone interested will eventually get to experience in all their glory via my fic. prommies)

In summary: thanks for growing on me, Mistilteinn, and congratulations! It's a great day to be a tree-hugger :)

[callsigncherub]

K.

Summary: Think I like you best when you're just with me and no one else.

Your friendship with Bradley was questionable after you both decided to become friends with benefits. What happens when you realize you've fallen in love with him?

Warnings: Angst, fluff, a teeny amount of smut.

Word count: 2409 words

K.

The dynamic between yours and Rooster’s friendship was confusing to most people, including yourself. You were his best friend, and he was yours.

Initially, that’s all it was, and you were happy with that. But, somewhere over the last two years you’ve both spent together back at TOPGUN, the line between friends and lovers became blurred after a particularly heavy night of drinking whilst celebrating a successful mission with the squad at the Hard Deck. At the time, you and Rooster had both agreed that it was a one-time thing that wouldn’t change your friendship, because it didn’t mean anything.

And how wrong you both were.

Because suddenly, its 3am and you’re pulling Rooster into your apartment in a heated kiss, the buzz from the alcohol you’ve both consumed burning through your veins as you’re undressing each other in a mixture of lust and urgency, inevitably falling into bed with one another.

And you love it. The praises he’s mumbling against your neck in between placing wet, hot kisses over your pulse point as you come undone on his fingers, gripping his hair as if your life depended on it. Or the way he cradles your face in his hands and whispers about ‘how fucking perfect you are, his girl taking his cock so well’. But soon after you’ve both collapsed, fucked out from the night’s activities, you find yourselves sharing meaningless pillow talk about a future that doesn’t exist, looking at each other through eyes so intimate and familiar. Eyes that felt like home.

But somewhere along the line you fell, hard and fast at the thought of what you could be and all the things you wanted to last with him. In the moments, you were fast for him, and in all of the nights you spent together, tangled in the sheets, covered in sweat, and panting heavily, you gave him everything. It felt like every inch of your body was his, every breath of your soul belonged to him, and every beat of your heart was made for him. Making love soon became falling in love.

The hardest part of suffering the consequences of this viscous cycle of fucking and immediately pretending nothing had ever happened was that whilst you wanted all of him, all he wanted was your body. Nothing more, nothing less. But no amount of warning in the world could have prepared you for that familiar nauseous feeling in your stomach that you’d get waking up in the morning alone.

You often find yourself thinking about the way you feel when his eyes look directly into yours as he calls you baby, especial to his somatic pleasure only, and you desperately try to hold him close, to savour the way his body feels against your own. But it makes you wonder if you’re enough for him, or if your sole purpose is to make him cum. He’s not yours to keep and that makes you feel the guilt of breaking your rule. No feelings. This doesn’t change anything, We’re still friends. Best friends. But somewhere along the way, boundaries washed down the drain and the memories you shared began to slip away and fade into nothing.

And that’s how you’ve ended up sat in your car, in the parking lot of the Hard Deck gripping the steering wheel so tightly you have borderline cramp in your hands, trying your hardest to catch your breath whilst hot tears carve a ruthless stinging sensation down your cheeks.

“You’re jealous.” Phoenix said, patting you on the back and handing you a beer. She followed your eyes to where you were burning holes through the back of Rooster’s head whilst he was chatting to one of the girls who worked behind the bar.

“What are you talking about? I am not.” You defended yourself, but not once did your eyes move, still trained into a scowl, forehead aching from the frown that’s been etched into your features for the last 20 minutes.

“Look, I’m not judging you, Aries, but I really think you should tell him how you feel because its obvious there’s something going on between you two.” She huffed, wishing one of you would just bite the bullet and admit your feelings for each other. She knew there was something going on with You and Rooster, everyone did, they could see the mutual pining, the tiptoeing around one another. Everyone felt like they were watching a continuous game of catch and release – maybe, one day, you could both find the courage to tell each other how you really feel about each other.

“I don’t think I’m in the mood to have my feelings hurt anymore tonight, Nix.” You mumbled, downing your beer, and turning to face her. “He’s my best friend, and if that’s all he’ll ever be then I’m happy with that. In don’t want to lose him over feelings I’ll eventually get over.” About to turn back to the bar, ready to order another drink and continue to drown your sorrows pathetically for the rest of the night, the bile that rose up in your throat and the tears prickling the corners of your eyes at the sight of Rooster with his arm around said girl was enough of a sign to tell you it was time to go home.

“Actually, I think I’m going to head home for the night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You announced quickly before grabbing your things and rushing out the door, heading straight for your car.

“Wait! Don’t leave, this isn’t worth it. Trust me you just need to talk to him.” She called after you, but you never looked back.

It was in that moment that Phoenix immediately saw red, she’d had enough, and, in all honesty, the squad had placed a $50 bet on who was going to make the move first. And not only did she want her money, but she also wanted to spite Hangman who had been droning on for months about how “Roosters to pussy to admit how he feels.” So, before her brain could catch up to her actions, her legs carried her over to where Rooster was now stood on his own at the bar after his date for the night had head home.

“Hey Nix, where did Aries go? –“

“Shut up Bradshaw, whatever is going on between you and Aries, you need to talk about it. You need to tell her how you feel.”

“I really don’t feel like getting rejected tonight, Phoenix.”

“Funny, she said a similar thing to me, right before she left because you were too focused on blondie to notice she was even here.”

In that moment, Bradley new he’d fucked up, bad.

You couldn’t be mad; Rooster was never yours to begin with and he deserved to have fun – she was a pretty girl, and she wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was all innocent enough. But you couldn’t help but wish you were her with his arm around you laughing and having a good time. And you felt more shame than anything that you’d even put yourself in this position in the first place, that you’d ever let yourself get this hurt over something you could have controlled in the first place.

The thing is, Rooster often spent his nights wondering what it would be like to have a future with you in it as more than just his best friend. He wanted you and only you, but he’d never found the right time or the right words to say. So, after a night well spent with you, he’d often find that as much as he wanted it, sleep never came. And as you lie there, bathed in the dim glow of the moon, eyes closed peacefully, and chest rising and falling at a steady pace, he would take the time to admire just how beautiful you looked. And in doing so, couldn’t help the ache in his chest when he realised just how badly he wanted to call you his. You’re completely unaware of your surrounding and he laughs to himself as he watches your body curl into him, and your hand placed on his chest twitch every so often. Soon after, one-night blends into another day and he’s sure to smooth your hair over and place a kiss to your forehead, before gathering his things and leaving quietly, making sure to lock your door on the way out.

He didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way, but now that you’ve left the bar and he knows you’re upset with him, he feels all the more disappointed in himself for not telling you how he’s felt since he laid eyes on you on your first day back at TOPGUN. Instead, he thought that if sleeping with you was the only way he could be as close to you intimately enough to feel like you were his and he was yours, then maybe it would make him feel better.

You eventually wiped your eyes, and the drive home was a silent one filled with the frequent sounds of your sniffling. Parking your car and heading into your apartment, you slumped down on your bed and continued to cry until you physically couldn’t cry any longer. Then you looked in the mirror at your now ruined makeup. “Your pathetic, stop crying, this is your own fault.”

Meanwhile, Rooster was already in the Bronco, driving as fast as he could to your apartment in a desperate attempt to make sure you were okay and hopefully tell you how he felt. Because in that moment, where Phoenix handed his ass to him earlier on in the night, he knew that nothing, even potential rejection, could upset him more than knowing he was the one to hurt you tonight.

“Fuck Aries, pick up the phone, please.”

You were about to grab a glass of water before heading to bed when a loud bang on the door startled you and you nearly dropped the glass in your hand. Placing it down on the counter, you huffed and opened your door to reveal a very sympathetic looking pilot staring right back at you. Stuck in two minds about slamming the door in his face or moving to let him in, you chose the latter option and locked your door behind you.

“Can we talk?” Rooster mumbled, leaning against your kitchen counter, heart breaking at the sight of puffy eyes and a tear-stained face looking up at him.

“Sure.” You said, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

You gestured to your sofa and sat down at other ends. An awkward silence filled the room, and you wished the ground would swallow you whole as you realised you were sat there in one of his old UVA shirts that you’d stolen from him a while back. Even though he’d seen every inch of your naked body, you felt too exposed and the chill coming in from your open window sent a sheen of goosebumps over the exposed skin of your legs.

“Phoenix told me you left, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Rooster mumbled.

“You could’ve called me for that, you didn’t have to come all the way here.” You bit back, shocked at your sudden outburst.

“I did Aries, you didn’t answer.” He said, taking a in a deep breath, rubbing his hands over his face.

You moved to grab your phone from you purse that you’d thrown onto your coffee table in a fit of frustration once you’d arrived home and saw that you did, in fact, have about 20 missed calls from him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t looking at my phone. Is there anything else you wanted to say because I’m really tired and just want to go to bed.” You sighed; already done with the conversation you’d hoped would turn out differently.

You weren’t really sure what happened next, but all you could feel was Roosters lips on yours. He pulled you into his lap, stroking your sides as you relaxed into the kiss – your body was on fire, melting against his own as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in further. But before anything could progress, he was gripping at your sides and pulling you off of him.

“Aries” he panted, “This isn’t what I’ve come here for. And that’s when the tears immediately sprang back to your eyes.

“What have you come here for then Bradley? Because every week you’re here and not just to talk. I don’t know what the hell you want from me anymore and I can’t do this!” And that’s when the floodgates well and truly opened. “One moment you want me and the next you’re with someone else. All of this has been a mistake. I feel like I’ve lost my best friend.” You whimpered.

“No, no Aries, I’ve come here because I love you! I fucking adore you and I hurt you. I hurt you by not telling you how I felt, and I let you leave tonight because I was too busy trying to find yet another distraction because there’s no way I was going to ruin our friendship if you don’t feel the same way. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you, and I’m sorry that it took Phoenix twisting my balls about it before I said anything. If you think I’d ever want anyone else when I have you then I’ve failed in showing you how much you mean to me.” He sighed frustratedly, reaching out to take your hands in his own.

“I love you too. I didn’t think you felt the same way, I didn’t want to tell you and ruin our friendship” You whispered as he pulled you back into his lap and placed a tender kiss on the top of your head. “Wait, Phoenix spoke to you?”

“Yeah.” He laughed “She didn’t really talk to me, more like yelled at me in the middle of the bar.”

“Oh my god” You burst into a fit of giggles, silently thanking Phoenix.

“So…How about I take you out tomorrow night hm?” Bradley said tilting your chin up to look at him, placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I’d like that.” You hummed, grinding your clothed core over the growing tent in his jeans.

“K sweetheart. I love you.” He moaned, picking you up and carrying you to your bedroom.

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

Taglist:

@aistash

@minichrismd

@ishipdabands

@ishipit1420

@roosterscockpit

@roosterforme

[blue-jisungs]

my dog really digs you (and so do i)

# author's note ... can we take a moment and appreciate the title bc im so proud of it:( also ugh i love gunil sm:((((((((((((((( i might make a pt 2 we'll see

# summary ... during a walk with your dog and your niece, your furry friend cant contain his excitement ... that way you (and him) make a new friend! :D

# word count ... 1609

you took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass. the birds were chirping happily and occasionally a buzzing bee flew next to you. jiwon, your niece, was holding your free hand and babbling about flowers. and your dog, winnie, kept wiggling its honey-colored tail. 

walks with your dog always were your self-care time. you could relax, take your mind off things. with your golden retriever it was more often than not time and energy consuming but you enjoyed it. 

due to winnie’s massive amounts of energy and over friendly character, you sometimes struggled to keep him on leash in one place when there was another dog. because you were feeling a bit tired and sore today, you decided to go to a park that you’ve seen very little dog owners at.  

besides, you were with your niece. she was always excited - probably as excited as winnie when he heard the word ‘walk’ - to go out with him. but the combination of two of them always left you drained.

drifting away with your thoughts, you didn’t realize that there was - in fact - some dogs. 

winnie’s tail sped up upon seeing a possible friend. and jiwon’s words fell deaf on your ears, zoning out completely. 

before you could realize, there was a sudden and strong pull. winnie jolted forwards, pulling you with him. you yelped and tried to stop him upon seeing a poor, small, white dog about to be greeted. 

winnie approached the dog, stopping without a warning. the unforeseen stop of movement made you lose your balance and bump into the owner of the tiny dog.

gunil, who had his earphones in, and on top of that on full volume, only felt the impact of a body crushing on his. fortunately, he didn’t fall. he instinctively wrapped his hands around the person and helped them stand on stable ground. then, he quickly took off his earphones.

“godness, are you okay? what happened?” he asked, shocked. only then did he realize the cuteness of the stranger standing in front of him.

“i’m fine but i’m so, so sorry. my dog just gets too excited whenever he sees another dog and… you know, he pulled me” you laughed nervously, tugging the leash.

“it’s okay, don’t worry. are you hurt though?” the guy asked, big brown eyes sparkling with worry.

“no, i’m okay, seriously. are you?” you blinked. the exchange would have probably gone for an eternity if not your niece. 

“wah, your dog is so cute!” jiwon whined and kneeled next to the white ball of fur. “can i pet it?”

“of course, pooh doesn’t bite” he smiled widely and watched the girl’s small hand pet his dog softly. 

“pooh? its his name?” she asked, kneeling and tilting her head at the dog. the pet did the same. gunil nodded. “ah, auntie, that’s so cute! pooh and winnie!”

the man looked puzzled so you smiled and pointed at your dog, sniffling pooh.

“this troublemaker’s name is winnie” you grinned and saw the stranger’s face morph into shock and excitement.

“no way! what are the chances” he laughed, amused “winnie the pooh… winnie and pooh. now we only need a dog named the”

gunil instantly regretted the joke upon realizing how lame it was. but you snorted loudly, looking away.

“that was so…” you grunted teasingly.

“i know” he snickered, smile growing wider “oh, by the way, what’s your name?”

“i’m jiwon!” jiwon chimed in, giggling when pooh licked her hand. winnie started circling around the two of them, clearly not happy that his new friend was stealing his second favorite human’s attention. 

“she’s jiwon” you scoffed softly “i’m y/n”

what a pretty name, he thought.

“nice to meet you guys. i’m gunil” he said. before you could say anything else, jiwon squealed.

“winnie, pooh!” 

you looked at your pet and only saw a flash of golden and white in a flurry circling around you. the dogs started chasing each other, causing the leash to tie around your and gunil’s legs. it lead you to bump into gunil again. it was hard to stay in one place, you kept colliding your head with his chest. winnie was swinging his tail joyously and going back and forth, not helping the situation. the leash imprinted on your skin, the material tying you two closer and closer. 

finally the both of you lost balance and tripped, gunil softening your fall. you yelped, the leash falling out of your hands.

“i’m so, so sorry! i don’t know what’s gotten into him today! are you okay?” you asked, worried. you were laying atop of him, trying to get off but you only ended up straddling him. gunil’s black glasses almost fell off his nose.

but he was just laughing. the sound of his laughter was quite specific but so infectious you couldn’t help but start laughing as well.

“jiwon, could you… please…” you pointed at the leash, unable to form a coherent sentence. you rested your other hand on his chest, vibrating with him.

your niece slowly and awkwardly helped you out, setting you free from the bonds. 

“now i know how they feel” gunil scoffed and you finally moved to the ground, standing up. your butt hurt but you were sure he will have even more injuries. you reached your hand towards him and helped him get up. 

his hand was soft and calloused, you felt a couple of band aids on his fingers already. 

“sorry about that. i feel so bad, you just kept getting attacked by winnie… and, well, me” you giggled and dusted off his shoulders. his jeans also got dirty but you decided not to go that far. 

“it’s like that one 101 dalmatians scene!” jiwon cheered, threatening winnie with her finger “bad winnie, auntie and mr. gunil almost got seriously hurt”

you blushed, realizing the resemblance with the cartoon. gunil just smiled, sending you a look that was hard to decipher. he was cute though, you had to admit.

“you know what? are you free right now?” you blurted out suddenly, feeling the heat run to your cheeks. he nodded, grinning. “then do you want to grab some ice cream with us? i’ll pay, as a you know… apology”

“you don’t have to apologize” he shook his head and you felt a pang in your heart, freezing on spot. is that a no? ugh, that was so embarrassing– “but i’d love to go”

you blinked and it took you a moment to code that he agreed. 

“great. great! jiwon, do you want some ice cream?” you asked your niece, who was already skipping in excitement. 

“yeah! can we go to out regular spot! i love the blueberry ones! can i have two scoops? please, please, pleaseeeee” she whined, tugging your sleeve. gunil giggled at her cuteness.

“you can, of course! just… let’s keep that a secret from mom, huh?” you teased and ruffled her hair. winnie barked and then you kneeled to ruffle his head too. he licked your face “and you, little devil… what’s up with you today, huh? did you want to impress your new friend?”

gunil smiled and took pooh’s leash, reaching his hand to jiwon.

“do you wanna walk him?” he asked with a soft smile. the girl nodded and grabbed it. you stood up and started walking. gunil was next to you, jiwon and pooh in front leading the way.

“i think winnie liked you. but i hope, um, the fall didn’t make your injuries worse” you pointed at his hands. gunil looked at them and tsked.

“ah, don’t worry about those! i’m used to pain” he laughed “i’m a drummer, hurting my hands isn’t new to me”

“drummer? oh woah, that’s so cool!” you gasped. maybe you were hallucinating, maybe it was the weather but you thought you saw a faint blush creeping on his cheeks. gunil fixed his glasses and shot you a charming smile.

“yeah, me and my friends have a band but it’s just… a hobby” he grinned. 

you continued to chat throughout the whole way to the ice cream shop. when you got there, you asked gunil to hold winnie’s leash. 

“i’ll have two scops, one blueberry and one…” you stopped, letting jiwon decide. she stood on her tippy toes and peeked at the options. 

“i’ll take whatever gunil takes” she mumbled shyly and looked at him. gunil just grinned, realizing she dropped the ‘mr.’.

“hm… maybe strawberry” he said and jiwon nodded.

“okay so one blueberry and strawberry, one strawberry and…?” you looked at gunil. 

“one is fine” he smiled and started searching for his wallet to pay.

“okay, and then for me… pistachio” you hummed. the cashier gave you the price and you managed to pay before gunil realized. you turned around and met his shocked face.

“yah, y/n, seriously…” he scoffed, putting his hand over his heart “you just… really hurt my inner gentleman”

“you can pay another time when you two go on a date!” jiwon chirped, playing with pooh. 

both your and gunil’s faces matched the shade of strawberry ice cream.

“i guess she’s right though” he smirked. you were too flustered to reply and just sent him a small smile. 

one would think you’re already a couple or family of some sorts - two people that can’t tear their eyes off each other, two happy dogs and one cute girl. gunil’s heart melted, really enjoying this cozy setting. he definitely will ask you for your number later… and for sure will buy some snacks for winnie, who brought the opportunity for you two to meet. he really dug that.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @mon2sunjinsuver,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

Part of the Silverfox AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your mouth is dry and your ears are buzzing. You can’t breathe or move. You stare back at Mr. Rogers. Your former boss and eternal tormentor.

Your hands shake and you try to wipe your sweaty palms on your pants. How could he be there? What cruel fate has brought him there? What are the odds that he would know Bucky? Somehow, they don’t seem like a strange pair but at that moment, it’s not an amusing observation.

“Oh, who’s this? Am I interrupting?” Rogers asks coyly, looking from you to the host, “a date?”

Bucky sighs and crosses his arms. You should be heartened that his attitude isn’t solely reserved for you but all you want to do is disappear. You flutter your lashes as you wait for his response, unable to offer much yourself.

“Steve,” he huffs, “we’re working–”

“Working?” Rogers scoffs, “on…?” He narrows his eyes with a crooked smirk, “bit young for you–”

“U-u-uhhhh,” you choke out, chest burning, head swimming, “C-can– d-d-d-do y-you— have a b-ba-bathroom?”

Both men look at you. You sway as Bucky backs up and nods, pointing you past the staircase, “down the hall to your right, just behind the stairs.”

“Th-th-thanks,” you sidle by him, nearly flatting yourself as you keep a staunch distance from Rogers.

He faces his guest again, just as quickly forgetting about you. You can’t forget any of it. Your escape isn’t much of one. A couple minutes if that.

“Is that why you’re dodging me?” Rogers’ timbre follows you, “really not your type. I’m surprised.”

“Would you shut up?” Bucky growls.

You don’t linger to hear the rest of their conversation. You nearly trip into the bathroom and lean on the door to shut it. You feel around until you find the little button to lock it and back away. You clutch your head as panic overflows and reality strikes you. You hold back a scream.

You’re trapped in this house with him. This strange place. You should’ve never come here. You’re so stupid. Just like before, you walked straight into a bad situation. You’re letting it happen all over again.

They are all right. You asked for it. You’re stupid. You’re worthless. You’re weak.

You crumple onto the cold tile, against the door as you bend your head against your arms, hugging yourself as you bite back tears. You’re going to have to come out eventually and you won’t let him see you cry. Not again.

You try not to think about it. The same memories that haunted your day. Following you like ghosts, inescapable, no walls can keep them away. You feel pressure on your throat and close your eyes. You hear his growl as he squeezes your neck, his body pinning yours flat.

“N-n-n-n-n-n-no,” you murmur into your lap, “p-p-please…”

You rock, trying to soothe yourself, trying to calm the maelstrom of nerves threatening to overflow. You bring your hands up around your head. You lift one and bring it back against your skull, beating yourself as if you can knock the thoughts free.

There’s a gentle tap, three solid knocks on the other side of the door, “you okay in there?”

Bucky’s voice has you whipping your head up, turning your back flat to the door as you press your hands to the tile. You gulp down air, hiccuping in your panic attack, vibrating uncontrollably. You hum before you can summon your voice.

“Y-y-yesss,” your voice crawls from your throat, “a-a-almost done.”

“Alright, just checking,” he drones back, his tone as dull as ever.

You wait, listening for the scuff of his soles as he backs away. You climb to your feet, stumbling into the sink and catching yourself. You turn on the faucet and rinse your hands under the cold water, spreading it over your face as you try to wash off the past.

You dry off and approach the door. You stare at the wood as your hand rests on the handle. You don’t know if you can do it. You can’t face him. You won’t survive.

You twist the handle and let yourself out into the dim hall. There’s only the light glowing from the front of the house. You take a breath and walk the hall as if you’re marching to the gallows. As you come to the front of the staircase, you find the entryway empty.

“Hey,” Bucky startles you from behind. You turn to face him as he appears in a doorway further down, diagonal from the bathroom, “in here. Just heating up the kettle.”

You nod and glance around. When you face him again, he’s watching you. Your fingers twiddle nervously as you pad towards him.

“Sorry about my friend. He can be pushy,” he steps back as you get to the door, letting you inside. His kitchen is nice; steely metal and gray granite. The kettle hums on the counter, a blue light glowing through the glass. “I’ll deal with him later though.”

“I-it’s f-f-fine,” you eke out.

“You sure?” He asks.

You stop and turn back to him. You shrug. What can you say? He wouldn’t believe you if you told him the truth. Just like everyone else.

“Y-yeah,” you bring your hands together, tugging on your index finger, wiggling it as if you might free it from the socket, “I th-think…” you lean back on your heel and look towards the door, “th-this will b-b-be a one t-time thing.”

“What?” He snaps.

“Th-the sc-scr-script. M-my lap-top broke a-and… I n-n-need a r-real job,” you sway back and forth, “s-s-sorry.”

He exhales deeply. You can’t even look at him. You hear the disappointment in just his breath but you’re used to that. That’s what you do. You let people down.

“I understand, you got a lot going on at home but I would prefer to maintain the same tone throughout the podcast. I wouldn’t want to get someone else,” he argues, “we haven’t even recorded yet. Can’t you see how it turns out before you make up your mind?”

“I d-don’t know…” you clasp your hands together, squeezing tight until the circulation slows to a throb. “I c-c-can’t–”

“You know, I’m sure your parents want you out as much as you want out. This could be your chance. I’m not paying you pennies.”

You wince. That alone tells you what he thinks of you. You’re pathetic enough to live with your parents so you’ll take anything. Even him and this stupid podcast. Your bat your lashes as your eyes burn. No, you walked out of that office and didn’t look back. You can do it again.

“K-keep y-y-your money,” you spin on your heel and stomp past him. 

He tries to latch onto you but you dodge him. You continue down the hall and grab your coat and purse, shoving your feet clumsily into your boots. He follows you, lurking as you slip the folio under your other arm.

“What did I do? Come on. Don’t walk away. We both know you need this.”

“I d-d-don’t need you,” you insist as you turn your back on him. “I’ll b-b-be j-just fine at my p-parents’.”

You pull the door open and plunge out into the rising storm. The weather reflects your insides. Violent, cold, and thrashing. You stop at the edge of the walk and bend to spit a mouth of bile into the snow. It doesn’t stop as your stomach churns with waves of memories washing over you.