#he was somehow holding himself back and protecting his legs BEFORE this BUT NOW

[everwistfully]

What if, after one too many easily avoidable scrapes and bruises, Bruce finally puts his foot down and says Robin needs to have pants.

Dick or Jason, whichever Robin it was at the time, is vehemently against it but Bruce argues he needs the protection and won’t let him continue as Robin without it.

Dick or Jason (this is really screaming Dick to me but I can see it going either way) seethe until he comes up with the BEST solution, even a compromise!

And the somehow Protective Sheer Tights are invented after MUCH argument.

Same Robin but about double the protection with his legs covered now.

[bi-writes]

simon being protective of his mail order bride scratches all the right spots in my brain.

mail-order bride

you're almost relieved when you hear the knock at the door. you've been a holding a tree pose for a few minutes too long, and the girl hosting the online yoga class is starting to fry your eardrums with her too-perky voice.

you're sweating bullets, and her hair hasn't moved a fucking inch out of her ponytail.

you mute the television, wiping your forehead before making your way to the front door. you open it with a sigh, not really knowing what you expected to see, but it certainly wasn't the average-dressed man standing on the steps there.

you blink, raising a brow when his eyes roam over you, and you realize suddenly that you're wearing workout clothes, which is showing off a little more than you'd like to some rando standing on your doorstep.

"uh..." you look around a little. "i'm sorry, can i help you?"

he smiles. it's a little unnerving.

"right, yeah, i'm starting a business around here, and i wanted to ask if you've been needing any help with any fixtures around the house. i'm giving a 50% discount if you give me a rating on google."

you open your mouth for a moment, frowning.

"uhm..." you shake your head, "sorry. we don't need any help right now."

"you live here alone? sometimes it's hard to spot when the electric's on the piss, y'know? need a keen eye," he laughs, coming up one of the steps. you shake your head again.

"no, thanks."

he's a wiry man, but he's tall (not taller than your husband, but taller than you). you step back a little and start to close the door. he comes up the steps. out of the corner of your eye, you see the cat slip out between your legs, hissing a little as the distance closes between you and the man.

"wait! can i give you my contact info? i don't have a card, but i can leave you my--"

the sound of simon's truck pulling into the garage gets both of you to look behind. simon doesn't even park all the way inside. he throws the truck door open, stepping out of it, and the man on your steps moves back away from you immediately, making his way off the little porch.

simon looks huge, more so than ever. his steps are heavy, boots hitting the ground like a warning bell, and he's wearing just a short-sleeved shirt that's showing off those glorious fucking arms. you have never doubted simon's strength, but he looks like he could flip a car with the anger that's leaving him in heavy waves. you're surprised that you are not afraid; you just know somehow that simon won't touch you.

"oi!" simon yells, and the man definitely understands he picked the wrong fucking house to be a creepy salesman at when his knees nearly buckle as he tries to walk away. "where the fuck do y'think y'r goin', you twat?"

you sigh deeply, not realizing how much you were shaking until you notice your hands trembling around the doorknob. you watch as simon catches the guy by his dirty jean jacket, nearly lifting him completely off his feet as he drags him towards the fence gate.

"hey! hey! i didn't do anything!"

"i saw ya, ya fuckin' arse, know exactly wot the fuck y'were doin'," simon growls, tossing him onto the sidewalk. he hits the pavement with a cry, holding onto his arm, and simon slams the fence gate closed before pointing at him accusingly. "'f i ever see ya anywhere near m'fuckin' house or even askin' m'wife for so much as fuckin' directions, i'll cut y'r bloody prick off, y'hear?"

you blink as simon comes closer, the cat retreating back into the house once they see him. he keeps walking, crowding you back into the house before he shuts and locks the front door. his chest is heaving, black t-shirt doing nothing to hide the puff of his chest and how large he makes himself when he stands up to other men. he doesn't even need to make himself larger; simon takes up enough space for two men combined.

"he touch you?" simon asks, his voice low. you see his fists clench, and you have no doubt that if you said yes, simon would go outside and paint the pavement a new color with the man's face.

you shake your head frantically, and he lets out a deep breath, reaching up and wrapping a hand around the back of your head and pulling you close.

he bends, pressing his masked forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he breathes in slowly. he rubs at the nape of your neck, soothing you, and you smile when he pulls away, giving him those big eyes that say thank you, thank you, thank you.

simon cocks his head, staring behind you, and you turn with him to see the cat blinking slowly at the two of you from it's place on the windowsill.

"should get you a fucking guard dog instead," simon mutters, pulling his mask off and kicking his boots into the corner. you smile as he walks away, trying to cool your warm cheeks with the backs of your hands.

doesn't he know you already have one?

[ashthesalamipiece]

"Explosions of the Heart"

This one is rlly long😭

☆☆☆

The hospital reeked of antiseptic and tension. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead as Bakugo Katsuki paced the floor like a caged animal. His hands—usually steady in battle—trembled slightly. Outside the delivery room, his world was unraveling.

"Mr. Bakugo," the nurse called gently. "She’s in distress. We’re doing everything we can."

He didn’t answer. His crimson eyes were locked on the swinging double doors that had swallowed you hours ago.

You—his wife, his partner, the only person who could call him a dumbass and still get a smile out of him—were behind those doors. And you were fighting a battle even he couldn't charge into fists-first.

Twelve Hours Earlier

Your water had broken in the dead of night. You’d barely gotten a full sentence out before Bakugo was already tossing clothes into a bag and barking at the cab company over the phone. By the time you reached the hospital, contractions were tearing through you like lightning, each one worse than the last.

Something wasn’t right.

The baby was breach. Your blood pressure spiked. You were losing too much blood. They rushed you into an emergency delivery, voices sharp and fast. Bakugo hadn’t been allowed in.

Present

Time blurred. Katsuki hated feeling useless more than anything. He should be in there. He should be beside you, holding your hand, telling you it was going to be okay even if his chest felt like it was going to explode.

A sudden scream tore through the hall. Your scream.

His knees buckled. He hadn’t even heard himself move before he was slamming into the door, fists glowing faintly, ready to break it down—

"Sir!" a nurse barked, shoving him back. "You can't go in there!"

"That’s my damn wife!" he snarled. "Let me—"

The screaming stopped.

Too abruptly.

Bakugo froze. The world stopped moving.

Seconds felt like eternities until finally, the doors opened and a doctor stepped out, blood on her scrubs and exhaustion in her eyes.

"She’s alive," she said softly. "And so is your son. But it was close. Too close."

His legs gave out and he collapsed into the nearest chair. His hands covered his face as air finally returned to his lungs. Alive. You were both alive.

"You can see her now."

He stood shakily, pushing into the room. You looked like hell—pale, exhausted, barely able to lift your eyelids—but when you saw him, a weak smile curved your lips.

"You look like shit," you whispered.

A choked laugh escaped him. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to his lips. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, dumbass.”

Then he saw the tiny bundle in your arms. Wide red eyes—his eyes—blinked up at him.

"Hey, little guy," he said, voice thick. "You’re already causing trouble, huh?"

You laughed faintly, and Bakugo leaned in, touching his forehead to yours.

"Next time," he murmured, "we're adopting."

---

Two Weeks Later

You were finally home.

The scent of sterilized hospital air had been replaced by the warmth of your shared apartment, still littered with unopened baby gifts and half-assembled furniture. It felt surreal, like you had died and somehow gotten a second chance.

Katsuki hadn’t left your side since the hospital.

He’d been quieter than usual—not cold, but... different. Protective. Watchful. The explosions were fewer, the yelling almost nonexistent. And at night, when he thought you were asleep, you caught him just staring—at you, at the baby, at the scar the IV left on your hand.

Like he couldn’t believe either of you were still here.

You shifted slightly on the couch, wincing. Your body still ached like hell. The stitches, the swelling, the pressure—no one talked about how brutal recovery would be. You felt raw. Fragile.

"Katsuki," you called weakly.

He appeared instantly from the kitchen, a bottle in one hand and your pain meds in the other. "Need something?"

"Come sit with me."

He hesitated. "You’re still hurting. I don’t wanna crowd you."

You reached out, fingers curling in the air.

He sighed, set everything down, and slid onto the couch beside you. Carefully. Gently. You leaned your head on his shoulder, your newborn cradled against your chest, tiny breaths warm against your skin.

"He looks like you," you murmured.

"Poor brat," he said, but his voice was soft.

Your fingers laced with his.

"You’ve been quiet."

He didn’t answer for a long time. Then:

"You almost died." His voice cracked. “And I couldn’t do shit about it.”

You turned to look at him, eyes brimming. "But I didn’t. We didn’t. Katsuki, you didn’t leave me. Not for a second. That means everything."

He clenched his jaw. “I’ve fought villains who tried to kill me. I’ve been stabbed, exploded, buried under rubble. I can deal with that. But you, bleeding out and screaming and I couldn’t even touch you—” He broke off. “I’ve never been that fucking scared in my life.”

Tears slipped down your cheek, and you pressed your lips to his temple. “You’re here. I’m here. Our son’s here. That’s all that matters.”

He looked down at the sleeping baby, chest rising and falling in sync with yours. “He’s tiny.”

You smirked. “So were you. Until puberty hit like a damn truck.”

A reluctant chuckle rumbled from him. “If he has even half your stubbornness, we’re screwed.”

“Half yours, you mean,” you teased.

The room went quiet again. You nestled closer, letting yourself breathe in his warmth, his scent. Safe.

“I thought I was ready to be a dad,” he said suddenly. “I trained for it. Got the nursery set up, read every damn book. But the second they handed him to me, I realized I didn’t know shit.”

You smiled sleepily. “You’re already doing perfect.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause I haven’t blown up a diaper yet.”

You both laughed—quiet, tired, and a little broken, but real.

He looked at you, really looked, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You blinked. Bakugo never whispered.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, voice catching.

And for the first time in weeks, you both finally exhaled.

---

Three Months Later

“You sure you’re okay without me for a few hours?” you asked again, already halfway out the door.

Bakugo rolled his eyes, baby monitor clipped to his sweatpants, your son strapped into a carrier on his chest like a slightly confused koala.

“D’you think I can’t handle him or something?” he grumbled.

“I think he shat through three outfits before noon yesterday, and you nearly declared war on baby wipes.”

Katsuki scowled. “One time.”

“One time per diaper.”

You kissed his cheek before he could argue, smirking. “You’ll be fine, Dad of the Year.”

The door clicked shut behind you.

And just like that… it was quiet.

Bakugo glanced down at the wide-eyed little boy strapped to his chest. “Alright, kid. Just me and you.”

The baby blinked, then made a soft gurgling noise.

“You better not be loading your diaper already.”

**

The first twenty minutes went smooth. Katsuki heated a bottle with military precision, burped the baby like a pro, and even played peekaboo without blowing anything up.

Then the baby started crying.

Loud.

Katsuki checked the diaper. Clean. Tried feeding him. Refused. Burping? Nothing. Pacifier? Launched like a missile.

“Are you broken?” he hissed, bouncing him awkwardly.

The baby wailed louder.

Bakugo, future Number One Hero, demolisher of villains, destroyer of fear itself… was being absolutely obliterated by a 12-pound infant.

“Alright!” he shouted over the crying. “You win, gremlin!”

He tried the ultimate move: laying on the couch with the baby on his chest, just like you did.

It worked. Instant silence.

“…Seriously?”

Tiny fingers gripped the collar of his shirt, and the baby let out a satisfied sigh, snuggling deeper against him.

“Tch. You just wanted to lay on me, huh?” Katsuki mumbled. “Clingy little nerd.”

He didn’t move. Not even when his phone buzzed. You’d texted: Everything okay?

He snapped a photo of his son sleeping peacefully on his chest and sent it back.

We’re good. Don’t rush.

He stared at the photo for a long time, warmth blooming in his chest. The kid looked so much like you when he was relaxed. And Katsuki realized something he hadn’t said out loud yet.

He loved this.

Being a dad.

The mess, the noise, the confusion—it was all chaos he could handle if it meant protecting you and this little bean.

“You’re not that bad, y’know,” he muttered. “Might even grow up to be cooler than me.”

The baby snorted in his sleep.

“Yeah, alright, don’t push it.”

**

When you walked in an hour later, you found them both fast asleep—Katsuki snoring, the baby drooling on his chest, one tiny fist tangled in his dad’s ash-blond hair.

You smiled and quietly snapped a photo.

The caption would read: My boys. Chaos level: manageable.

For now.

---

Ten Months Later

Your son had started babbling a while ago, but it was mostly incoherent nonsense—"ba-ba," "da-da," the occasional squeal that sounded like a baby pterodactyl mid-meltdown.

Katsuki had been watching him like a hawk, waiting for the first real word. It had practically become a competition between you two—who would he say first? "Mama" or "Dada"?

Katsuki refused to lose.

“You know I carried him for nine months, right?” you said, folding laundry one afternoon.

“Yeah, and I carried your ass through every post-labor breakdown, so I’d say we’re even,” he grunted, ruffling your son’s spiky blond hair as he sat chewing on a toy grenade (definitely plastic).

Your son looked up at him with wide, mischievous eyes and suddenly let out a loud, clear—

“Boom.”

Silence.

You blinked. “Did he just—?”

Katsuki’s eyes widened. “No. No way. Say it again, brat.”

The baby giggled. “Boom!”

“Oh my god.”

Katsuki stood there frozen for a moment, and then his mouth curled into the smuggest grin you’d ever seen.

“That’s my boy.”

You threw a sock at his face. “Katsuki, his first word was ‘boom.’”

“I’m proud as hell.”

“He’s not a grenade!”

“He’s mine, so yes, he is.”

Your son squealed again. “Boom!”

Now he was bouncing.

“Stop encouraging him!” you said, even though you were trying not to laugh.

Bakugo squatted beside him and bumped their foreheads together gently. “Boom, huh? You’re gonna be a damn legend.”

You shook your head in disbelief, watching your two pyro-twins grin at each other like chaos incarnate.

Katsuki looked up at you, full of fire and affection. “Guess we know what kind of quirk he’s leanin’ toward.”

You groaned. “We are so not baby-proofed for explosions.”

Katsuki smirked. “Guess I better teach him control before he blows up the crib.”

Your baby babbled happily between them again. “Boom!”

Yeah. You were definitely raising a little dynamite.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

---

Age: 2 Years, 3 Months

Your son’s first day of daycare was supposed to be normal.

You’d packed his snacks, extra clothes, diapers, wipes, and left strict instructions that he was “sweet, a little stubborn, and very attached to his Bakugou-brand plushie.”

You also wrote in bold: “If he gets upset, avoid loud noises. They tend to... backfire.”

The teacher smiled politely. “We’ve handled all kinds of quirks. Don’t worry.”

You didn’t.

Until the phone call.

Three hours later.

Bakugo answered it on speaker.

“Hello, this is—uh—Miss Hikari from Little Hero Steps Daycare. We have a small situation.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Is he hurt?”

“No! No, he’s fine. Perfectly fine. A little excited, actually…”

Your stomach dropped.

“…but the plastic slide may have, um... detonated.”

Katsuki let out a low snort. “He blew up the slide?”

“It was only the top half,” she added quickly. “And technically, it was more of a pop than a boom.”

You could feel Katsuki’s pride from across the kitchen.

“Are the other kids okay?” you asked, horrified.

“Yes! No injuries. He wasn’t upset, just… showing off. He said ‘Boom!’ and then—”

“That’s my son,” Bakugo said, folding his arms with a smug little smirk.

You elbowed him. “That is not a good thing.”

“Didn’t say it was bad either.”

**

When you arrived at the daycare, your son was sitting on a beanbag with three teachers around him—like he was some kind of dangerous celebrity.

His hair was wild, his cheeks were smudged with soot, and he looked way too pleased with himself.

“Mommy! Daddy!” he yelled, running over and nearly tripping on his own feet.

“Hey, you little menace,” Katsuki muttered, picking him up.

“Boom!” he chirped proudly, like it was his name.

One of the teachers came over, cautiously.

“We think his quirk is starting to develop. It’s... early, but very similar to yours, Mr. Bakugo.”

Katsuki beamed. “Damn right it is.”

You groaned. “Please tell me we’re not banned.”

The teacher laughed nervously. “No—though we’re investing in more fireproof playground equipment starting immediately.”

**

That night, after your son was passed out in his crib, soot still faintly dusting his forehead, you collapsed on the couch.

“He’s gonna be a handful,” you murmured, resting your head on Katsuki’s chest.

“Yeah,” he muttered, stroking your hair. “He’s gonna be a hell of a hero too.”

You smiled, eyes drifting closed as you listened to your husband’s heartbeat under your cheek—steady, strong, and forever explosive.

Just like the little boy down the hall.

---

You were pregnant. Again.

You hadn’t meant for it to happen quite so soon—not when your firstborn was still blowing up laundry baskets for fun and calling it “training.”

But the second those two pink lines appeared, your stomach flipped. Part nerves. Part excitement. And a lot of “oh god, how is Bakugo going to react?”

**

You told him on a quiet evening. Your son was asleep (finally) and the living room still smelled faintly of scorched Play-Doh.

You sat beside him, heart racing.

“I’m pregnant.”

Bakugo blinked. He looked at you. Then at your stomach. Then back at you.

“…Are you sure?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

He leaned forward slowly, resting a hand on your thigh like he thought the couch might explode.

“Holy shit.”

You laughed. “That’s… not the response I expected.”

He stared at your stomach for a long time before finally saying, softly, “You okay with this?”

“I’m scared. But yeah. I want this.”

He nodded, jaw tightening. “You nearly died last time.”

“I know.”

“You think I can do this again?” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “What if I lose you this time?”

You reached for his hand. “Then you hold me tighter and fight harder.”

Bakugo clenched his fists, then gently rested one palm on your belly.

“…You better be a chill baby,” he muttered. “I can’t handle two demolition experts at once.”

**

Your son found out a week later when he walked into the kitchen, pointed to your tiny bump, and said:

“BOOM 2?”

You choked on your orange juice. Katsuki burst out laughing.

From that point on, the baby was Boom 2 to him.

**

As the months passed, your second pregnancy felt... different. Easier in some ways, harder in others. Your son was older now, talking more, asking endless questions.

“Did I live in your belly too?”

“You did, baby.”

“Was I loud?”

“You screamed the whole time.”

He nodded proudly. “Boom!”

Katsuki didn’t stop worrying. Not for a second. Every time you winced, he was at your side. Every time you had a check-up, he came. He argued with nurses over your chart. Practically threatened the OB into promising you a safer delivery plan.

“I lost my shit once,” he told the doctor. “I’m not doing that again.”

**

One quiet night, a few weeks before your due date, he crawled into bed behind you and wrapped his arms around your belly, pulling you gently against his chest.

“Still scared,” he whispered against your skin.

“I know,” you whispered back.

“But I want this. I want all of this. You, him”—he nodded toward your sleeping toddler down the hall—“and this tiny bomb too.”

Your heart melted.

“I want them to know they’re loved,” he added, voice thick. “No matter how loud, or messy, or crazy it gets.”

“They’ll know,” you promised, turning to kiss him softly. “Because they have you.”

Katsuki didn’t answer. He just held you tighter, his hand on your belly.

And somewhere inside, Boom 2 kicked like they were already ready to make an entrance.

Just like their brother.

Just like their dad.

---

It started with a kick.

Not just any kick—one that rocked your whole body at 3:12 a.m.

You groaned, gripping the edge of the bed.

Katsuki shot up like a soldier under fire.

“Contraction?” he barked.

“Yep,” you hissed, breathing through it.

He was already moving—bag in hand, grabbing your shoes, shouting toward the baby monitor: “Stay asleep, Boom #1!”

**

This time around, the doctors were ready. And so was Katsuki.

Still, even as they guided you into the labor room, he was white-knuckling the edge of your bed, eyes locked on you like if he blinked, you’d vanish.

You reached for him.

“I’m okay,” you said between waves of pain. “I’m okay.”

“I’m not letting go of you this time,” he muttered, voice low, jaw clenched.

And he didn’t.

Not when your screams broke through the walls.

Not when the monitors started beeping faster.

Not when the doctor said, “We need to move quickly—cord’s wrapped.”

He held your hand through it all. Pressed his forehead to yours. Whispered every curse word in the book, followed by: “You’ve got this. You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.”

And when the final cry rang out—

A high, sharp wail that cut through the air like lightning—

Bakugo exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for nine months straight.

“She’s perfect,” the nurse whispered.

“She?” you breathed, dazed.

Katsuki blinked. “A girl?”

They placed her on your chest—tiny, red, angry as hell. She immediately latched onto your hospital gown like she was ready to fight the world.

You laughed through tears. “She’s already like you.”

Katsuki stared at her.

Just stared.

His eyes—those wild, stormy eyes—were wide and full of wonder.

“You’re kidding me,” he whispered. “I’ve got a daughter.”

You reached for his hand. “You’ve got us.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then to your daughter’s.

“I swear on my damn life,” he whispered, “no one’s ever gonna mess with you.”

She let out a fierce little squeak.

And he smiled, completely undone.

**

An hour later, you were resting, and he was sitting by the bed with your baby girl tucked into the crook of his arm.

“Name?” you asked, eyes heavy but heart full.

He looked down at her, then at you.

“What about Kaori?” he said. “Strong. Bright. Means fragrance or light.”

You smiled. “Kaori Bakugo. It’s perfect.”

And for the first time that night, the hospital room felt still. Safe.

Because no matter how explosive your little family was becoming—

It was built on something unshakable.

Love. Fire. And a whole lot of Boom.

---

Two days after Kaori’s birth, you came home—sore, exhausted, but glowing. Kaori was tiny, sleepy, and wrapped like a burrito in her fuzzy explosion-patterned blanket that Katsuki insisted she wear home.

Your front door creaked open slowly.

Bakugo carried Kaori in with terrifying precision, like she was made of nitroglycerin.

Inside, your two-year-old son was standing barefoot in the hallway—holding a plastic grenade in one hand and a drawing in the other.

“Mommy!” he shouted, running at you.

You caught him one-armed, lifting him up, groaning slightly. “Easy, baby.”

Katsuki stood back, rocking gently with Kaori in his arms. “Hey, Boom #1,” he said softly. “Wanna meet your sister?”

Your son blinked, looking at the tiny pink bundle.

“That’s her?”

“Yup.”

“She looks squishy.”

“She is,” you said, chuckling. “Gentle, okay?”

He padded over on tiptoes, peering up at her like she was some sort of sacred relic.

“…She doesn’t go boom?”

“Let’s hope not,” Katsuki muttered.

“She’s your baby sister,” you explained. “Her name is Kaori.”

He tilted his head. “Can I keep her?”

Katsuki smirked. “She’s not a pet.”

“But I love her already,” your son said proudly. Then leaned close and whispered (as if it were a spell): “Boom.”

Kaori stirred slightly… and farted.

A loud one.

Your son lost it.

“SHE DOES BOOM TOO!” he screamed.

Katsuki nearly dropped her from laughing so hard. “Oh god. She’s already like you.”

**

You all settled in the living room. Kaori slept peacefully on Katsuki’s chest while your son built a pillow fort and declared it the "Boom Base."

“She can live in the base with me,” he announced.

“She’s not old enough for base life yet,” you said.

“I’ll protect her,” he added matter-of-factly. “From monsters. And spiders. And broccoli.”

You looked over at Katsuki, who was watching the two of them with a look you’d only ever seen twice before: once on your wedding day, and once when your son took his first steps.

“Didn’t think I could love more than I already did,” he murmured. “But damn.”

You scooted closer and leaned into him, Kaori safe between you.

“Looks like we’re officially a team of four.”

“Correction,” Katsuki said. “We’re a squad.”

A very loud, occasionally explosive, wildly chaotic squad.

And honestly? You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[mocchii-writes]

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

can you do a thanos fic where the reader is like weak and shy, and nam gyu thinks they're manipulating her by keeping her close, but thanos just actually really likes her

(inspired by thanos calling min su cute in that one scen)

If You Hold Me Without Hurting Me, You'll be the First Who Ever Did

Paring: Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x fem!reader

Summary: Nam-gyu is under the impression Thanos is using you, but he doesn't realize Thanos is just head over heels for you.

Words: 1k

Warnings: Reader gets anxiety, normal squid game stuff, not proof-read ♡

A/n: This is such a cute idea, rahh!!

~🍡🍡

Part 2

You were obviously scared. As any normal person should be! It was an unfamiliar setting with unfamiliar people. You're not a fan of unfamiliarity, so you kept to yourself. You were never one for socializing, and certainly not here, but it kind of bugged you that people thought they could walk all over you for it. Not that you would really do anything about it, nor did you want to.

But your luck seems to run dry when you're approached by someone. Someone you can only say has made quite the reputation for himself.

"Senorita, excuse me." He says. You almost don't think he's talking to you, but you turn around to see him looking right at you. You're immediately caught off guard because you've never really gotten a good look at him until now.

Thanos was actually quite attractive by your standards, so you take a moment to look at him before responding. He has pretty eyes, with dilated pupils. His hair is unique, but you can't say the purple doesn't suit him. His facial features just have harmony, y'know? Like he was sculpted by a silent artist and shared with the world.

You snap yourself back to reality after losing your train of thought for a moment. You hope he hadn't noticed your actions, but he had.

"Yeah?" You respond, almost quiet enough that he would have to lean in, but you're glad he doesn't.

"We have 4 people, care to join us?" He says, flashing a smile. You look around, almost hoping someone would swoop in and send you to outer space, but you eventually nod. His friend seems a little upset about it, but he doesn't say anything. "Great, we could use a pretty face." He says, loosely throwing an arm over your shoulder, leading the way. You don't argue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though it was a stressful game, your team somehow made it through pretty easily. You had collected in a corner, talking about the next vote. Well, you weren't really talking, but you were listening. Nam-gyu didn't seem to like you. That was easy to notice. He told you to go around and count the remaining players, but you were quickly defended by Thanos.

"Cut it out, man. She's just sitting here, she didn't do anything wrong." He says it in a pretty funny voice, probably trying to sound cool, but you really appreciate the help anyway. You don't say anything, but you look at him and flash a small smile. He surprisingly smiles back, his features softening a bit before he moves on.

Then, a familiar buzzing is heard, and a few guards come into the room and set up the voting system. Your group had agreed to vote to stay, but you suddenly felt kind of anxious about it. You shouldn't be here, and you know it. Before you can think about it too long, though, everyone slowly shuffles out of their hiding spots, collecting at the back of the room and waiting for their numbers to be called.

Nam-gyu and Thanos both place their predicted votes, and before you know it, you hear your number.

You freeze, but feel your legs moving ahead of your thoughts. You begin to panic. You can't stay here, you know you can't. You'll die in the next game if X doesn't win, though. You'd be giving up your protection, and you know it.

You knew Thanos just saw you as a vote. You can't deny it almost hurt, but you wouldn't expect any less from him. But you also can't deny the way your stomach flipped when he playfully touched your shoulders or how your brain malfunctioned when he held your gaze a little longer than usual. You wanted him to like you, but you pushed it down. It hurt, but your heart could recover pretty quickly with just the sound of his voice.

You glance to your right, only met by the face of Nam-gyu, signaling his false confidence in you with some gesture, but you look back to the buttons, lighting your hands and face with the soft hue of light from each one. You look up to the numbers above your head and feel yourself push a button. You panic, looking down from the numbers to see the red light coating your face. Without a new patch, you quietly walk to the side of X, your mind running faster and faster as you dread the results, but they eventually come.

You lost.

You exhale, but not with relief. You can see Nam-gyu walking to you, but you look at your hands in shame. You feel a hand on your arm as you tense, biting your lip. You knew they would be mad, and you knew you did this to yourself.

"It's okay." You hear. But not from Nam-gyu. His voice is soft and reassuring, providing a strange sense of comfort. Your eyes widen as you look up quickly to see Thanos looking back at you. You're so relieved to see him, but catch yourself. He's just using you, right? You distract your eyes as you mutter an apology. You can hear Nam-gyu scoffing as he walks away, but Thanos keeps his eyes on you. "I'm not angry with you, Flower." He says. You can't tell if he's manipulating you or not, but you honestly don't want to know. You just nod and avoid his eyes. "I don't blame you for wanting to get out of here, but you know you're safe with me. Do you want to leave because you don't think I'm protecting you?"

You shake your head, looking up again. "Sorry.." Is all you can whisper, seeing him sigh and look elsewhere. You look back at your hands, and he doesn't respond for a while, just brushing his fingers against your arm, comforting you the best he can.

"C'mon, it's dinner." He eventually whispers. You look up, not realizing the time that had passed. You nod, refraining from apologizing again, and head to the line.

send requests!!

[ponderingmoonlight]

Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him instead of using reversed technique

Pairing: husband! Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, Yuji's "death" scnene in season 1, blood lol

Thank you dear anon for aggressively reminding me that it's canon for Gojo to not have any scars, it really helped me cooking up that fic! 🤍

Every step feels like hell, the only thing that keeps you from collapsing onto the floor being the reassuring hand of your husband on your shoulder.

This can’t be true, it’s just impossible. Yuji Itadori was a member of Jujutsu High for a few weeks, just started to get to know this world better. This was supposed to be an easy mission, the three of them should have made it out alive with ease. But apparently, Sukuna decided to show up. And apart from injuring Megumi, he violently took Yuji’s life by ripping his heart out. A heart made of pure gold, a heart so precious that you couldn’t help but care for that boy the minute you saw him.

But now he’s dead.

Your hands start shaking immediately the minute you step into this cursed room you visited far too often, gazing at Yuji’s body covered by a cloak. This isn’t a bad dream. No, the blood covering the white cloak tells you more than urgently that Yuji Itadori isn’t there anymore.

“Please tell me that there’s a chance he’ll come back”, you mutter.

Oh, how much both Shoko and Satoru hate to see you like that. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High how deeply you care about your students, loving them like your own children. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a student die in front of your eyes. In times like these, jujutsu sorcerers pass away like flies. But Satoru knows what you’ve seen in Yuji, that he somehow reflected parts of yourself. And still, you weren’t able to protect that boy, both Satoru and you coming too late to rescue him.

“I really wish I could, but he shows no signs of life. I’ll move on to autopsy now. If you want to say goodbye…Maybe do it now and leave afterwards.”

Satoru wraps his arms around you just in time before you slide onto the ground, holding you tightly against his chest.

“This is not fair”, you breathe out, head still not able to accept Yuji’s farewell.

He was so young, so full of life. He doesn’t deserve to die, he still had so much ahead of him. There needs to be something you are able to do. Aren’t Satoru or Shoko able to use their cursed technique?

“He didn’t show any signs of life for hours by now, (y/n). Not even Shoko or me are able to bring him back to life. I’m so sorry”, he mumbles against your ear out of nowhere.

So this is really how it ended? With Yuji getting killed by none other than Sukuna himself? Like in trance, your wobbly legs carry you to the autopsy table his lifeless body lays on. You want to stretch out your arm, want to look at that precious boy one last time before Shoko does her job.

But you can’t.

“I can’t look at him”, you blurt out.

With a swift motion, you turn around and burry your face against your husband’s chest.

“It’s okay babe, just look at me, okay? You don’t have to do this.”

Satoru’s arms keep you from losing yourself completely, soak up your falling tears while his head rests against yours. Oh Yuji, you’ll never be forgotten. All the laughter’s both of you shared, his potential, how he always cared about others. You will think about him every time the sun starts to rise, when new students get greeted, when you kill another curse-

“Hey, what’s up? Huh, what are both of you doing here, Gojo-sensei?”

This voice…

That was Yuji Itadori.

Out of instinct you turn around rapidly, not even noticing how the back of your head crushes into Satoru’s forehead with full force. He sees starts, blood taking his sight in an instant while his mind isn’t even able to comprehend it was Yuji who just spoke.

“Yuji! Are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re back!”, you babble out, embracing the boy in a tight hug.

“To be honest I don’t even know what happened last and I’m pretty hungry…Oh, you’re bleeding Gojo-sensei!”

You’re…bleeding? You turn around in confusion, following Yuji’s eyes.

“OMG SATORU!”, you cry out, the sight of your husband covered in his own blood shocking you to your core.

When did that happened…Was it…you?

“I guess you were so happy to see Itadori that you’ve forgot about me standing behind you”, he mutters amused.

“Babe I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got so carried away and-“

“Don’t worry about me. Reversed technique, remember? I’ll be whole in seconds. Just look after Yuji, I love you.”

You let out the breath you were holding, the bright smile forming on your gorgeous face making Satoru forget the world around him for a moment. You are so caring, so passionate. And you are his wife.

“I’m a lucky man”, he mutters to himself while pressing the tissue Shoko handed him against his wound.

There you sit, gently caressing Yuji’s cheeks and asking him over and over if he’s okay.

“You really are. This isn’t a problem for you, right?”, Shoko questions with one glance at the laceration on his forehead.

The shocked look on your face replays itself over and over in his mind, lets a chuckle escape his lips. With the help but his reversed technique, it would be way too easy to get rid of that minor wound. Within seconds, there wouldn’t even be a scar left, just his flawless skin. But…it was you who did this to him out of sheer excitement. It sure would be nice to look into the mirror and get reminded of you daily, right?

“Oh, I might as well keep that”, he replies with a sly grin.

- a few weeks later -

You sit on the edge of the couch, desperately waiting for that time of the day. Even after being married to that force of a man for 4 years now, you find yourself getting all excited when he announces that he’s going to shower. Because going to shower means that he’ll come out just wearing boxers with his body still a little wet and his hair sticking to his face in that delicate way.

“Still waiting for me, huh? It’s not like you can see me naked every time you want, babe”, he finally purrs.

Your heart skips a beat. This man…How is it even allowed to look so breathtakingly gorgeous? The way a single droplet of water runs down his cheek, how he gently strokes his damp hair back.

Wait. You squint your eyes a little harder. What is that on his forehead?

“What do you have there?”, you question, rubbing your own hand against the ride side of your forehead.

This almost looks like a scar. But Satoru shouldn���t have scars. After all, he’s able to use reversed technique, healing himself in the matter of seconds. Is it just dirt? No, that definitely looks like scar tissue.

“Oh, it’s nothing”, he immediately tries to brush you off, pulling his hair back into his face.

“No way Romeo, come back here right now”, you demand.

With a swift motion you lift yourself off the couch and hunt after him.

“Is that a scar?”

“It might be…”

“Why didn’t you just heal it? Show it to me!”

When you finally catch him, you slick his hair back again. Only to be greeted what indeed looks like a middle-sized scar. But why and how did this happen, why didn’t he just heal like he usually does?

“You really don’t know where this came from?”, he challenges you.

You blink a few times. What the hell is your husband talking about?

“Why would I know where this came from?”

“Because it was you, (y/n)?”, he playfully bites back.

You? Your mind races, searching for a single moment you ever hurt your husband. You were never really able to even hurt him, no matter how berserk you went in training. When was the last time you even wounded him? But wait, there was this one time you made him bleed, that one time when…

“This was when Yuji woke up-“

“EXACTLY!”, Satoru cries out and gives you a round of applause.

“But why did you keep it? You said you’d be able to heal it…”

“Because I didn’t want to. This scar right here”

Gently, he takes your hand in his and traces the soft scar with your fingertips.

“will always remind me of what a wonderful human being you are.”

Oh. Your eyes turn glossy in an instant, staring up at your loving husband while he gifts you with the most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen.

“Satoru”, you breathe out.

There is no time to waste. You wrap your longing arms around his tall frame tightly, aiming to never let him go again.

“Every time I look into the mirror, I think about my wonderful wife”, he mutters into your hair.

“Y’know, you could just take a picture of me or something-“

“No. I would rather just keep that scar of my wonderful wife smacking me over a student.”

You hit him playfully over his comment, a giggle escaping your precious lips.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that…”

“I’ll always tell the story like this.”

Tags: @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp@localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo

Dividers by @saradika 🤍

[alchemistc]

Tommy ignores the knock at his door. He's in day three pajamas and the only person who might make the effort to check in on him is his exes best friend. Which.

The knocking continues.

It's getting louder.

There's a Kings game on in the background and he's been elbow deep in the Jeep manual he'd finally cracked open in some sort of weird, fucked up pattern of mourning.

Tommy's never gonna buy a fucking Jeep. He hates them. You own one for more than five years and more than half the parts are replacement parts.

He's been staring at a diagram of the timing belt for half an hour, at least. The last thing he remembers about the game is Kuemper letting in three goals on five shots and somehow the Kings are up two, now, and there's still 25 minutes of game time left.

Tommy reaches for the remote. Turns the volume up.

The knocking returns less than a minute later.

---

There's a box of odds and ends tucked under the table in his entryway. He avoids looking at it. He knows there are a few things missing from it and he really doesn't want to examine what he'll have to do to avoid giving it to Eddie tonight. He cut the cords, he shouldn't be lingering watching the frayed edges sway in the wind, clutching his line like there's anything braced on the other side of it.

Evan's oldest, softest LAFD hoodie, the one that's technically too small for both of them but has stretched shockingly evenly and is definitely not sitting unwashed at the bottom of Tommy's laundry basket. The program from a recital of Denny's they'd stopped by to support him for, on their way out of town for a long weekend. Evan's stupid keto bread and the milk frother he'd left behind three months ago and never bothered to grab because he had more than one.

Whoever is at his door is still fucking knocking, and suddenly Tommy doesn't feel like being polite. He'll shove the box in Eddie's arms and tell him to fuck off and close the last few remaining open doors he has to this.

Only when he swings the door wide it's not Eddie on the other side, and the box nearly takes out whatever Evan - Buck, Jesus Christ - has in his own arms.

Not a Tommy box - too small for all the shit that he'd left behind. He misses the house slippers that had had a permanent spot tucked under the left side of the bed.

Tommy flinches, reels away, tries to shove the box away before Buck can see its contents.

"What are you doing here?" Even tone. No quiver in his voice. He's been called rude and dismissive for less.

Buck scowls. Hefts the rectangular dish in his hands and shoves past Tommy before Tommy can blink.

It's silly to say he chases after him, down the hallway towards the kitchen, but he's not exactly following along behind at a casual leisurely pace.

The glass pan slams down on his kitchen counter and Buck spends a minute staring at the calendar he was only getting two months out of because he couldn't look at the one with all Buck's notes penned in anymore.

"Wow," Buck says, and shifts his weight awkwardly.

"What are you -?"

"Jee and I made you birthday cupcakes," Buck says. His voice is hard. Angry. Hurt. "Happy birthday, asshole."

---

He cracks the lid and there are only three cupcakes inside. Tommy forgets himself. Raises a brow, amusement rolling over him pleasantly, prepared to tease him, but then he catches the set of Buck's legs and the curl of his mouth and the tight way his arm tucks itself back in against his belly, a protective gesture that reminds Tommy very effectively what this is.

"Why?" Tommy wonders aloud, and Evan's scowl deepens.

Buck's scowl.

God.

"We've been planning it for weeks." Something flashes across his eyes before he schools his features. "Jee made me promise to bring you some."

"She must not be a skilled baker," Tommy jokes. "If these are the only ones that made it."

Evan's expression twists. "I ate most of them."

The frosting looks fresh. No creases in the paper cup holding them together.

"I had to make a new batch of frosting because I used some of it for -." He cuts himself off. Looks like he'd like to throw it in Tommy's face but can't quite force himself to hurt Tommy.

It hurts as much as he'd expected, anyway.

The world is a small place. It's not the first time he's had to speak to an ex when he didn't want to. It's never pleasant.

This is worse. The cut and run is supposed to give him time.

Evan Buckley has been an ache behind his ribcage for months, now, long before he'd made that final decision. He'd known it was too little too late. Buck's gonna be the shadow other men see behind his eyes for years.

Buck's apparently found and slept with someone within the week and a half span from Tommy walking out to his sad shitty mopey birthday.

That he'd forgotten about.

Tommy leans in. Picks up a cupcake. Licks a stripe through the frosting and makes a face when he realizes it's buttercream.

"The ones you were supposed to get had the whipped cream one you like," Buck says, accusingly.

That somehow stings just a little bit extra.

Tommy pulls back the paper, takes a bite. There's raspberry filling inside, and Tommy can feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, because when he'd told Evan about how his grandma baked he'd been thinking of Evan being a grandparent, the kind of shit he'd forbidden himself from imagining with anyone he was dating years ago.

"Thank you," he manages, and Buck frowns.

"He thought the whipped cream was too sweet." And Tommy probably deserves this but he's not particularly in the mood.

"Cut it out, Buck."

Buck rolls his jaw. "I just figured you'd wanna know how it's going. Maybe I could tally up the hookups for you, count them all up by gender and stamina and opinions on how I should feel and act and fall for someone. Find out if I'm actually gay enough to be a man's last."

---

The rest of the cupcake kind of collapses and oozes as Tommy smacks it down on the counter. He takes thirty seconds to pull the other two cupcakes out before he's grabbing the too-large fake Pyrex and turning heel. The keto bread goes in the pan. Then the milk frother.

Tommy yanks the recital program off the fridge and tosses it in the trash.

Buck almost looks triumphant.

"The box under the side table has the rest. You can see yourself out."

He actually does exactly as he's told, and Tommy listens to his footsteps drift off, shoulders hunched in and the breath tight in his throat. He'd been cruel, it was only fair Buck got a few final kicks in.

Tommy sucks in a breath and blinks away the moisture at the edges of his vision.

The footsteps take a heel turn at the side table and turn right back around.

"This isn't everything."

Tommy half expects some panned comment about how Tommy's got his heart - the kind of silly shit he'd say to a dead outlaw.

"My sweatshirt," Buck says, and Tommy freezes.

He could lie. He could pretend he had no idea where it was. Claim he didn't remember it even being here, because that particular piece of clothing did have a tendency to travel.

He doesn't fucking want to hand that one over.

Buck smirks, like he's caught the crack, and is looking for ways to exploit it.

"I own my own house!" Tommy says, and it's a terrible launching point but Buck latches on.

"You just left, Tommy! I know I jumped the gun, Tommy, but you didn't even - you just left! I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I didn't know I was into men until you. I'm sorry you had to be my first, I'm sure that must have been such a burden for you."

"That's not fair."

"You didn't even give me a chance. That was - I'm so angry with you, Tommy. I'm so fucking mad."

"I know."

"But that's what you planned for, right? That's - you ripped the bandaid, Tommy, except there's a whole fucking untreated stab wound right underneath and it's still bleeding, Tommy."

"Did you even make this round of cupcakes with your niece?" It's better to keep his family's names out of his mouth. Just keep those ties cut.

Buck looks livid. "No, you idiot, I whipped up a tiny batch of this recipe just for the excuse to see you and - and tell you what a stupid, awful coward you are."

"That's not f-." He isn't sure whether Buck is being facetious about the small batch thing or not. He doesn't have any time to think about it.

"My sister and Chim are having another baby. Bobby and Athena are probably gonna host Christmas this year. Eddie shaved off the mustache and he's, like, dancing now, I guess. Hen and Karen are good for the first time in -." He shakes his head. Stares at Tommy. Tommy can't quite hide from that gaze. "We were good, Tommy. We were - you loved me."

He'd never said the words. Neither had Evan, but they'd both known. Both felt it. Tommy let it go too far, did it scared for longer than he usually would.

"It's not like that just went away when I walked out, Evan," Tommy hisses, and then regrets it immediately.

Evan has spent most of this visit pushing, pressing, digging fingers into the wound to make it hurt.

Evan goes silent now, reeling back a little. He seems shocked that Tommy had admitted it.

"I want you to go," Tommy says. "I need you to go, Buck."

It was the right dagger the first time, but apparently it's only effective once.

"I love you too, you know." His voice is soft. Tommy can't meet his eye. "And I hate you. I hate you even though I know that's what you wanted but I love you too much to not hate you out of spite."

Tommy knows if he caves it's done. He's signing himself over to whatever fucked thing will end them a week, a month, five years, two decades from now.

"Go home, Buck. Hate me there."

---

He goes in for the kill.

"I called Abby, two nights ago."

Right for the jugular. No survivors.

"She laughed for like twenty minutes, and then she tried to get me to chat about our sex life for comparison, and then she was shocked silent for a full minute when I wouldn't." Because Evan had always been a little too open about those details. "She also told me she forgave you but she doesn't think you ever forgave yourself."

Tommy agrees. For all that they'd been terrible for each other, they'd known how the hell to take care of one another like no one's business.

"I want you to go," Tommy says, steady, quiet, nearly a snark for how deep his voice goes to hide the tremor in it.

Buck cocks a hip against the doorframe. "I want my sweatshirt."

The breath that escapes him is shaky, but her think he hides most of it behind the hand over his face, the finger pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"I can't do this."

"Exactly how many men and women do I have to fuck before you believe the future I'm looking at is with you?"

"All of them! None! It was a stupid thing to say and it's not what I meant and I can't do this."

Buck spins on his heel. Grabs the box he'd set aside and hefts it up into his arms. "I'm coming back for my sweatshirt," he says. "You let me know whether you want to talk about the data points of the sexuality spreadsheet or about us."

"There is no us, Buck." His voice sounds defeated even to himself.

"If that was true you'd just give me the stupid sweater and be done."

Tommy sits in silence. He does not get up to retrieve the hoodie. Buck is still angry, but his smile is wide and bashful.

Tommy listens to his footsteps trail down the hall, towards the door, out of it. He hears the Jeep's ignition catch, the wheels roll off the drive.

He realizes he'd left the goddamn Jeep manual open on the timing belt page, right there on his side table where he'd pointed out the things he wanted Evan to take to clear him from his life.

---

There is someone knocking at his door.

Tommy doesn't quite ignore it.

He hid the sweatshirt in one of his toolbox drawers when Evan texted him this morning to let him know he'd be over with a six pack and a pot of chili.

There's a zero percent chance Evan's getting that sweatshirt back, tonight.

[meidiary]

( 📁 ) THINGS THEY DO WHEN THEY'RE CRUSHING ON YOU !

synopsis: the strawhats think they're so subtle with their 'nonchalant` acts of love towards you... 😒 they're not

character: sanji, zoro & luffy

warning: pure tooth rotting fluffy fluff & nicknames

mei's note: guess who's back from her hibernation 👋😔.. but on the bright side- l do have loads planned hihhih <3

SANJI thinks he's so very casual when displaying his crushing feelings. but in reality it is the complete opposite, considering:

♡ the stolen glances of you during meals with all the strawhats, where he doesn't even eat anything, instead being totally engrossed in your cute laughs derived from usopp's unfunny jokes. the way your fingers gently hold your fork always piques his interest. he studies your facial expressions when you taste the food he prepared for everyone, to figure out whether you enjoy it. if you did enjoy the meal, expect to see it thrice as much as usual..

♡ the lingering touches you receive from sanji anytime he has the chance, which, on a side note, never cease to make your cheeks burn;

he needs to get past you to grab some plates => his hands, almost instinctively, gently grab your waist before he lowers his head, asking you "if you don't mind, darling-". one of his hands remains on the sides of your waist even when you've moved aside to let him pass. "thank you," he whispers in your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand. you awkwardly giggle, not finding an appropriate answer.

luffy was letting his 6-year-old child mentality take over; jumping around on deck and bothering the other strawhats trying to get accustomed to the sun shining so early in the morning. he didn't see you walking out of your shared room with nami before accidentally bumping into you, causing you to trip => sanji is there before you could even process the situation. one of his arms tightly holding your legs. In contrast, his other arm was wrapped around your waist, pushing you onto him. "luffy, you little-!" sanji realizes he still has you in bridal style when he cuts himself off, "are you alright, sweetheart? you're not hurt, are you?" he could've sworn your soft smile melted his heart right then and there, even the other strawhats noticed how absolutely smitten this man is for you.

♡ the abundant patience sanji offers you is one of a kind. you won't find him smiling, oh so softly, at any strawhat's mistakes except yours. it's only you that he's so careful with, so gentle and soft-spoken. treating you as if you were a fragile vase, that one wrong move would break you.

"sweetheart- that's not how you cut a carrot," sanji chuckles, witnessing how you, somehow, accidentally mushed the carrot with the knife instead of cutting it. usopp lets out a cackle as he sees the mush which has derived from your cutting skills.

"only you could mess up cutting a carrot!" sanji glares at usopp, making him cover his mouth, trying to sniffle the laugh. he slowly walks out of the kitchen, slightly scared sanji might throw him overboard.

"let's try something else, yeah?" the blond-haired cook smiles at you.

he stands behind you, holding both your hands with his, before grabbing the knife with your right hand and holding a new carrot with your left one. like a puppet master, he controls the motions of your hands, and after a bit, you find the carrots all sliced up. "see? knew could do it," sanji caresses your hands with his.

"sanji..?" you mutter, leaning against his chest.

he looks down at you and hums, waiting for you to say whatever was on you mind. "can we eat now?"

you receive a chuckle from sanji as he nods. "of course darling, we can eat now. thanks a lot for helping me," he sends you a smile before grabbing the plates.

ZORO knows he's being way too obvious with you, but he frankly just doesn't care enough. everyone and their mother knows he has a crush on you tolerates you more than other people because of:

♡ how protective he is of you. this man won't let a fly harm you, let alone actual enemies during fights. he'd rather come back with some more scars than let them lay a finger on you. hence why you find yourself in the current situation.

zoro's sat down whilst hearing both you and nami lash out on him. a sigh leaves his mouth.

"why are you so stubborn?!" you cry out, eyes red and watery from the sheer fear of almost having lost him.

nami shakes her head, dumbfounded. "you could've fucking died, zoro. has that thought ever crossed your small fucking mind, huh?!"

"I was fine zoro.. I would've made it.. you- you didnt have to-" you utter before cutting yourself off, lip wobbling with tears-stained cheeks. "just.. don't ever do that again, 'kay?" you stand inbetween his widespread legs, your hands meet both sides of his face, pulling it to meet your eyes. "please.."

as if on que, his eyes soften and his furrowed eyebrows loosen immediately. he lets out yet another sigh, but this time, one of defeat. "alright." zoro's heart aches at the sight of those tears on your pretty face. it aches even more knowing he was the cause of them.

the strawhats are astonished, flabbergasted and, on top of that, even a bit annoyed at how easily zoro folded. at that very moment sanji, nami and usopp shared collective eyecontact, they knew how down bad he was. and now they have yet another thing to bully him about..

♡ his over-the-top jealousy has you and everyone within a 100m radius of you in a chokehold. no one dares to as much as look your way anymore. zoro made sure of that. if someone even breathes too hard near you, this man will be on his way to knock him out.

♡ the fact that he has his hands on you 24/7, always seems so obvious and nonchalant to him. he doesn't even think twice about it anymore. his arm around your shoulders, his hand spread on your back, him shamelessly holding your waist with one of his hands while the other is occupied holding some bags.

his arm is wrapped around your waist as you two stand in line. you had gotten the task to do the groceries with zoro, but once you say a smelled a sweet, floraly fragrance, both you and zoro knew this 'short' and 'easy' task would take much longer than planned.

"i'll be super quick, zoro, I promise!" you giggle as you look up at him reassuring. "mhm, ya said that last time, too, remember? ended up taking a whole day, and somehow I had to carry all those bags for ya," zoro raises his brows at you playfully, knowing very well he'd hold all the bags in the world for you if you'd want him to.

"yeah~ i know.. thank you," you smile at him, receiving an eye roll from him. "yeah, yeah, now hurry up and get movin'." you move along to catch up with the que, missing the way he smiles as you so absolutely adored.

LUFFY himself doesn't realize he treats you differently from the other strawhats. most of the things he does because of his little crush on you usually don't even register in him. but to the strawhats, it's so obvious he likes you due to:

♡ him attentively listening to you whenever you speak, never fails to shock the other strawhats. they could go hours on end, scolding luffy for whatever possible thing he had done, and there would be a good chance he wouldn't even bat an eye. but when you do it- that's when he gets serious.

"luffy! stop fucking around and get serious!" nami yells out, trying to get his attention. "LUFFY!"

luffy keeps peeling the banana in his hand, not paying all too much attention to what nami is on about. it's not that he doesn't care! it's just that this yelling gets repetitive, so he doesn't really pay attention to all the small quarrels every now and then. he's listening to what she's saying, he really is! he just doesn't want to enter the argument.

but then his eyes shoot up from his half-peeled banana. you were talking to him. " 'luf, what we're trying to get at is that you were acting very reckless, and you got us really worried about you, y'know.." you cross your arms over each other before making eye contact with the raven-haired captain.

"sorry," luffy mutters wholeheartedly, looking you in the eyes. his previous grin disappeared after he heard you speak to him. "i'll try not to anymore, 'kay?" he opens the banana completely and points it your way, wanting you to take a bite.

you smile and head over to the spot he's seated in and take a piece of the fruit before leaning against the back of the seat. "sorry I scared you, sunshine..." luffy mutters, soft enough for only you to hear. "really didn't mean to.."

you let out a small sigh of relief. " 'ts alright 'luf! just promise you'll be more careful from now on.. please," you lean against the side of his body as you rise your head, looking at the beautiful night view from the boat.

"i promise I'll try, sunshine, I really will." and with that, his usual toothy smile is back.

nami rolls her eyes, scoffing, as she munches on some of the pastry sanji had prepared earlier. sanji nudges zoro to witness the scene unfolding before their eyes. usopp sniffles his laugh with his hand, hiding behind zoro.

they could all agree on the fact that you were his soft spot.

♡ his usual grin being replaced with a soft smile whenever you speak is another thing that luffy never realizes. yet the others do.

you'd speak about the most mundane chores or moments you've experienced. albeit it being some of the most tedious things known to man, he'd listen so thoughtfully. as if anticipating a shocking ending, yet there in reality, he wasn't anticipating anything like that. he genuinely just lived your voice.

the way you pronounce the words. the small differences in pronunciation between you and others always bring a small to his face, he finds it absolutely adorable. the specific words you use to describe something never cease to make him smile ear to ear.

plus points if you're talking about something you're passionate about. he'd be so overwhelmed with how endearing you look speaking about your hobbies and loves. the small smile on your pretty face, growing wider and your tone getting giddier.

in conclusion, this man loves to listen to you yap about anything, to be honest.

my other one piece fics

mei's note pt.2 : also if you've seen this post before it was finished (bc someone accidentally published it before it was done) no you didn't...

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

I need an au where joker torture reader (his daughter) without him remembering shit but reader know it's him so she tries to reasons with him, begged for him to snap out of it but nothing happens. Batman tries to save the reader but it was already too late, she was already dead.. Body torn, dismembered, skin peeled, bones broken, blood everywhere, eyes gauge out, teeth pulled out like her finger nails.. She was beyond recognition. In a fit of anger, Batman beat up joker and somehow made him(joker) snap back and memories of the reader as a kid flashing through his mind. Joker remembers why he was joker in the first place.. Remember why he sent her away and left her as a child(to protect her from himself because he knew that he'd lose himself one day). He starts blaming Batman for making her a Robin, for bringing her to the life of vigilantes when all he (joker) wanted was for his little treasure to live a normal and peaceful life. (Do your magic, I suck at writing)

-👻

waited for life to hit me hard so I can make this angsty

OH FATHER DAREST PLEASE SAVE ME

What defines evil? What defines the line between betrayal and trust ? What defines the line between justice and superiority ? TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME PLEASE !!

Name grew up to be a good child - a child that Jack Naiper and Harleen Quinzel felt pride in . Name was their saving grace , their redemption from the filthy fangs of Gotham's slum and criminal underground. Name was their heaven in a place of hell.

They were never Joker or Harley Quin for her - no they'd never dawn such a monstrous mask for their sweet child no - for her they'd be normal - for her they'd love her .

Joker always smiled around her - not the smile he dawns at night no - it was a soft fatherly smile when he watched you color away in your book . He always took pride that he was your safe place that you would always come running to him when you injured yourself or wanted to excitedly show off your drawings.

Harley loves her child - her precious daughter always takes pride in dressing her and making her lunch before the school bus picks her up . She revels in the sweet way her daughter calls her " mommy " and makes her feel so proud and happy.

You may not be biologically Joker or her child but God did you feel like you were made for them - this small little angel that just likes holding her mommy's hand and coloring in her daddy's tattoos while babbling on about her day.

It feels surreal for them both every day when they wake up to your happy giggles every morning . It's a routine so soft- Harley makes herself and Joker coffee while you get a glass of apple juice . Joker always finds himself getting your book bag and lunch bag ready before helping Harley with breakfast.

You're in the living room watching Dora, the explorer on the t.v, your little legs rocking back and forth . Joker sits you on his lap and feeds you while Harley gets your bath and uniform ready. " Daddy, can I be like you and have green hair ?" You asked him once oh so innocent .

Joker giggles at your antics , " Now why would my princess want green hair ?" . " I wanna look like you !" You exclaimed as you snuggled into him. Joker laughs and kisses you on the forehead . " My princess is too pretty to look like me."

Before they know it, they're standing at the front door waving you off as you enter the school bus. They both sigh, but their face melts as they peak ,Balck Mask lackies further down the road.

" I thought we agreed not to bring home work," Harley asks , practically boring a hole into one of them. " I thought so too," Joker mumbles as he clenches his fists. There was an agreement - an agreement generally acknowledged by all criminals of gotham's slums and underground world that under no circumstances that you were to interfere with one another as civilians.

Guess black mask wants to play a dangerous game. Harley watches in silence as she watches them offload boxes from an unmarked truck into a house.

Joker pursues his lips - he knew he was no one to talk since he does his own dirty business, but he hates it that Black Mask chose to do his near his home - your home. " I swear if name gets hurt because if this I am going to kill everyone," he swears . Harley nods in agreement.

The evening dawns upon the Gotham , the sun sets under the tall distant sky rise like a collapsing star - its beams of light breaking apart upon the floor as a last abode. Name happily skips to the Wayne Manor , her barbie back pack in tow.

The manor so dark - so looming in the distant had once scared her so much, but now she's grown so accustomed to it. Name carefully yanks the door black , iron gate open , her small feet push her towards the big mahogany halls of the manor.

Name gets on her tip toes and carefully presses her small finger on the doorbell. Moments pass, and Alfred opens the door , " Miss name, you know you don't have to ring to the doorbell every time you visit " Alfred greets her. Name smiles , " papa told me it's rude to enter someone's home without asking for permission first" .

Alfred shakes his head but still motions her to come inside - Name was a newly addition to the Wayne Manor- a good one at that. Name giggles as she bumbles in , running inside , " Jasonnnnnnn~" Name calls out in a sing song tone.

Said boy was sitting on the sofa watching cartoons when his head perks up at the mention of name's voice , "Name !! You're actually here !" , he exclaims as he runs over to embrace her . Jason has always wanted a little sister - selfishly he know this dream of his would never had happen with the type of parents he had - a drug addicted mother and a father who worked as Black Mask's lackey wasn't they environment for a child like name so safe to say when he met her at school - his blood just took to her.

Jason was simply walking home from school - his mood sour since Bruce had insisted he attend a gala tonight . God knows Jason Todd hates galas with everything in him - it's just a bunch of preppy rich fucks that gather around to brag to one another about how rich they were.

Jason feels his jaw clench at he damned thought - he would gladly sell off his soul if it meant that he didn't have to stand hours on end in some scratchy suit and plaster on some stupid smile. Another sigh leaves his lips as he stops at a cross road.

a " Excuse me mister can you please cross me across the road ? My papa can't do it because he has to work late and mama has to run the salon" a little voice calls out to him followed by a soft tug on his uniform's shirt. Jason looks down to see this small little girl looking right at him with big old eyes.

'Sure kid why not", he answers . The kid smiles at him all wide and Jason swears it took everything within him not to squish the kid's cheeks together. Jason holds her hand and walks her across , ' Thank you Mister !" Name thanks him as she hugs him. Jason pats her head , " Anytime kid also just call me Jason" . Name smiles up at him , " My name is name !!" she exclaims as if it's the best thing in the world - probably is.

Jason's afternoon evening continued like this - he'd always wait at that cross road and cross name right over until one day rain began pouring . Jason sat in the limbo , Alfred seated at front , idly tapping away at the steering wheel , " Master Jason are you sure the young miss would arrive ?" Alfred questions Jason . Jason anxiously picks at his fingernails , " I'm not sure Alfie.." .

A long moment passes before name's small figure emerges through the heavy down pour of the rain and Jason immediately shove's the limbo's door open, " Name ! Get in !" . Name looks confused for a moment but when she realizes it's Jason she immediately crawls in the car , soaking wet. " Uhh sorry for the mess ..." she trails off nervous and embarrassed . " Not a thing to worry about dear - here would you like the heater to be turned on ?" , Alfred reassures her .

Name hesitantly nods before seating herself next to Jason. " Alright , we are going to Wayne mansion okay ? Once the rain calms down I'm sure to drop you off home alright ?"Alfred offers her with a gentle smile . Name meekly nods but snuggles into Jason and he allows her to steal his warmth.

Ever since then - Wayne Manor's residence treats name like their family - it's own blood - only difference is that the little thing does not live with them . Jason let's out a cough as Name sits across from him , Alfred enters the living space , snacks in hand and warm tea for Jason.

" I big brother okay ?" Name asks as she nimble away at a Oreo cookie. Jason let's out another cough before Alfred answers her , " I'm afraid Master Jason's flu keeps on getting worse as each day progresses - maybe if he actually rested and took his medicine he'd feel better " Alfred complains as he side eyes Jason. Jason weakly coughs, " Name don't worry about Alfred , I'm fine -" he counters but is interrupted by another cough.

Name giggles at his antics, " You need to take your medicine - my mama would take away my Ipad if I don't " she giggles away. Alfred laughs , " Maybe I should do that to Master Jason - maybe he'd actually learn to take care of himself for once " . Jason side eyes Jason before coughing out his lungs.

" Ya'll just overreacting" he murmurs weakly. The evening is spent with Jason coughing his life out while Name watches henry danger on the big television. The door of the foyer opens and there emerges Bruce Wayne in all his glory . Name perks up at him and gives him a wave , " Good Evening Uncle !!" she greets him. Bruce smiles and waves back at her , " Evening Name I see you came to visit your big brother ?" he questions with a knowing stare at Jason. Jason rolls his eyes,

"I'm not sick" he defended while another cough exits his mouth. Everyone immediately erupts in laughter at his pathetic lie. " Sureeee" Bruce teases as he puts away his briefcase before excepting a glass of water from Alfred. Just as everyone was starting to unwind - an alarm sounds off - the television immediately switches to a live feed of Joker and Harley Quin in jester masks smuggling cargo.

Bruce feels his jaw clench at the sight and immediately begins gearing himself. Jason begins to weakly stand up only to fall flat on his face , "Owww" he groans , name immediately rushes up to him , helping back onto the sofa , " Uncle I don't think Jay can join you" you murmur helpless. Bruce eyes you and Jason's growing red face . "It's alright I will handle them myself" he declares before he walks off. Jason's eyes widen , " You can't go by yourself -" he calls out stubbornly .

"You aren't going and that's final" Bruce says with finality as he slips on his batman mask. Jason stares at him defiantly while Alfred quietly presses a damp rag to his forehead. Name hesitantly raises her hand , " what if I go in his place uncle ?" she asks a bit shaken. Bruce opens his mouth - ready to deny her suggestion when Jason looks back at him defiantly , " If you can so call handle it yourself - I'm sure Name being there won't make a difference" he says defiantly.

Bruce pursues his lips , " Fine but Name you stand behind me " he says before walking off. Name eagerly runs behind him as she quietly slips on the robin suit, " I promise to do you good jay !" she calls off before disappearing down the hall.

Jason smiles before he coughs , " Sure kid !" he calls back.

Harley and Joker , in the dead of the sinking sun , hurriedly offload Black Masks' cargo into one of their own trucks , " I am gonna resell this shit back to him for this shit" Joker curses as he puts the last of the load in the back , Harley shutting the door with a loud 'tud'. " I feel like thats too vanilla honey we should straight up maim him for breaking code' she says with a grit in her tone.

Both were about to enter the vehicle when Batman and Robin landed on top the vehicle. " Stop right there Joker" Batman declares , already glaring down at them. " Go fuck off Bats this has nothing to do with you" Harley shouts at him. " Ma'am cursing is bad !" robin calls out behind batman , her small figure practically hidden by his massive cape.

Joker lets off a mask , " Aww Bats I didn't know you parent stray kids now " he laughs manically . Batman grimaces , ' What do you think you two are doing smuggling drugs " he accuses . Joker laughs again before reaching into his purple coat and began shooting towards them , " Come find out for yourself batsy ~" he teases.

Batman picks up Robin and jumps into the air , dodging the stray bullets when Harley took the opportunity to throw smoke bombs right at them. " Such damn pests !" she calls out as the bombs exploded - masking their vision. Their view is immediately shrouded and Batman grabs Robin and crouches behind a dustbin.

As the smoke disintegrates , Harley comes swinging at them with her spiky bat , " Hello Batsyyyy !!" she calls out as she swings at them - batman narrowly escapes but robin unfortunately hadn't and their stomach is immediately makes impact with it and is sent flying backwards into a wall. Joker takes his chance to stand atop the van nd starts raining down bullets before Batman has the chance to react.

" This is pathetic even for you Bats !!" he calls out as he refloads back in a magazine. Robin gets onto her feet and immediately throws batarangs his way - attempting to divert him. Joker curses and Batman takes the opportunity to land hard kick into Harley's jaw and he immediately jumps after Joker.

Harley goes colliding into the floor - her nose bleeding but before she even gets a chance , robin immediately jumps onto her back and begins restraining her in handcuffs.

Meanwhile Batman And Joker standoff - each trading dangerous blows to one another , both eagerly waiting for a weak spot to open to permanently take down their opponent. Joker wipes the blood of his lips as he stares down Batman , gun aimed at him , "Fun time's over Bats - time to end this " he declares , fingers trained on the trigger.

Batman grimaces as he lunges at him but it was too late - it all happens in slow down , joker changes his aim and aims his gun right at Robin and 'swoosh'. The bullet slices through the air at rapid speed and collides into robin's spine. Robin let out an ear piercing scream - a scream that practically shook the earth as robin lays face front onto the ground , crimson blood pouring out rapidly.

Batman screams as he lands on top of Joker -, " NAME !!" he calls out as he threw Joker's laughing body away somewhere like it was garbage. Joker in the amidst his maniac laughter stopped - it can't be , that name is too familiar - it , no that couldn't be his daughter. Harley laid there frozen - the reality of the situation dawns upon her when she watches Batman turns robin around onto their back and removed their mask to reveal name - her name - their name.

Harley feels her insides twists -, " NAME ?" she calls out confused . Batman frantically wipes the grime off name's face to reveal her pale face , her eyes slowly closing. Joker immediately comes barreling towards them , his mask long removed as he pushes away Batman.

"Name , honey - honey what - why " he stammers as he holds her in his hands. Harley is full on crying , no wailing her lungs out to the point it hurts - she cant believe her sweet girl was robin no- it can't be her sweet girl was always home on time - Batman must have forced her ! yes - he force her to be robin - she tries to convince herself - her mind to far gone to accept the cruel reality she's living in.

" Papa /" Name murmurs as she watches him through her drowsy eyes . " It hurts..." she murmurs as she shivers in his hold. Joker holds her close , "It's okay daddy's here - he's here baby - he's here to save you promise" he whispers as he tries pressing down on her wound.

" Papa please ...save me -it's too dark ...too painful" she pleads with him but it was too late , her eyes shut for the last time and her pulse stops. Joker lets out an agonizing scream before Batman tackles him to the ground. " You leave Name alone " he barks - his tone furious - he knew joker was cruel but to be so cruel to kill his own was a wicked he thinks not even the devil could achieve.

" YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME SHIT BATS NOT WHEN YOU'RE THE REASON SHE'S DEAD" Joker screams as he violently trashes in his hold . Harley can only cry - her eyes were bloodshot red as it stared at your discarded corpse - she refuses to believe that her baby's corpse - not thats someone else baby her's is home building a pillow fort waiting for her to come home .

" DON'T BLAME ME FOR YOUR SICK SHIT - YOU'RE THE ONE THAT FUCKING SHOT HER" Batman curses as he sucker punches Joker's face , practically sending it pummeling into the floor. " YOU'RE A FUCKING HYPOCRITE BATS - YOU'RE THE BLOODY ASS THAT BROUGHT HER IN THIS DAMN LIFE - A LIFE THAT SHE WASN'T MEANT TO BE IN " Joker curses as he lays there helplessly on the floor .

His body feels too weak to get up - it feels like lead was poured into his veins and is keeping him chained to the floor. Batman kicks Joker to the side of the van , in the distance ,wailing sirens rang through the empty streets as they slowly approach them . " I hope when you both are rotting in the darkest pits of hell - that you both realize that you never deserve Name in the first place , that tonight , her death is on your heads , that you both are so vile that karma paid you a visit and that costed a pure soul like name's - that name is never fucking coming back " Batman declares.

Rain immediately begins to pour down like heavy bullets, Batman scoops up your cold corpse , practically tucking you into the safety and warmth of his corpse before he grapples away.

Blue and red lights flashes about as the smell of burnt tires filled their noses. Harley lets out a scream before a police officer drags her away into the confides of an armored truck. Joker stares into nothingness as an army of police officers drag him into a separate armored van , he glares at the spot batman stood in before the door closes on him permanently. " We'll see how you react when I take away something precious from you bats " he swears before his maniac laughter echoes off the empty streets.

also sorry if requests/ asks are late I'm currently in exams week (╥﹏╥)

thank you for the ask anon and thank you for reading !!

I also realized I missed a crucial part of all the gore assuming Joker killed her like Jason but I think I can tweak that in part 2 I think ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: gn reader, non - con, kidnapping (hinted)

He's awfully gentle - and perhaps that's what you hate about him the most. The way your tears reduce him to a shell of a man, the way he holds you tenderly, like glass about to shatter from the wind. The way he looks at you - like you're the only person in his small grey world that's made of moving, breathing flesh and fragile breakable bones and splash of incoherent colour all over your cheeks. The way his irises move with feral speed when the ring on your sharp, barking laugh fills the stuffy mold - infested air with life, and his heart all but throbs out of his chest when you push him away.

He holds you at night through the nightmares and the screams, refusing to let go as you fight with all your might to break free, but it's pointless. He knows you - he's studied you, every creek and curve, every dream and fright, every single thing that makes your being tick and purr and surrender. He speaks your language, despite your best efforts to remain hidden, to remain a mystery, he's managed to slice through the protective shield of your psyche, of your most intimate fears, and he's made himself at home in your arms.

It's odd - perverse even, you realize in rare moments of rationale, how used you are now to waking up with his warmth inside of you, nested neatly between your folds; whispering soft little nothings in your flushed ear. Keeping you at the realm between sweet dreams and bitter reality, making you question every fluttering touch, every butterfly kiss against your throat. You're not sure what's real anymore, hot, throbbing pressure pulsating in the middle of your core, the honey nectar dripping down your thighs, back arching in a pleasure - fueled spasm so erratic you're left breathless. Overwhelmed by ecstasy, followed by guilt - ridden shame in a ruthless cycle you have no hope of escaping anymore.

To think it used to be different all those months ago when he first took you in. You would scratch and bite, kicking at will - acting as crazy as possible in hopes he'd find you too difficult to keep. But alas, his gaze never hardened, lips mouthing words of adoration in respond to your countless insults.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, y-you - you maniac!" You'd hiss through clenched teeth, sweat forming under your brows as your whole body stiffened before his naked figure hovering over you, strong muscled arms keeping you close to his chest in an awkward mockery of a hug.

"Shh, I know you're scared, my love." He'd caress your hair softly, running his fingers through your wet messy locks, cooing as if you're a cornered animal. "I know you're frightened, but I am not going to hurt you, precious. I love you more than you could possibly imagine. You don't know how long I've dreamt of embracing you." He'd press hot, feverish kisses down your collarbone, stroking your numb fingers until you eventually unclenched your fists. "Just like that, you're doing so good for me, angel, so fucking beatiful for me, just lay back and let me show how much I adore you."

You'd relax your hips slowly, keeping your eyes fixed to the ceiling - yielding to the inevitable, yet making a last pitiful attempt to hide the growing heat between your legs.

"You're so perfect, angel." He'd say, slowly undressing you. "I need to feel you against me. I hope you can forgive me one day - but here, before you, I am just a man. Without you my life would lose all meaning, I can't let you go. Forgive me. Love me, please."

And somehow deep within your heart, you wonder if you truly can.

[florawrites-blog]

Miss mine

-Moments they realise they are deep down the down-bad hole

Lee heeseung - 이희승

You stood at the finish line, catching your breath, feeling a mix of exhaustion and triumph as you processed coming in second. The months of grueling 5 a.m. training runs, the discipline with your diet, and the endless leg exercises had paid off. This felt like your first place—winning a marathon of dedication against yourself, against the odds of your own limits.

Suddenly, through the cheering crowd, you spotted Heeseung, wearing a shirt with your name emblazoned across it, along with Ni-ki beside him in matching support. The moment your eyes met, you let out a whoop, lifting your arms in celebration. Heeseung didn’t think twice; he broke past the security line, pushing forward until he reached you.

Without a word, he scooped you up, wrapping his arms around your waist, and spun you in circles, his laughter mixing with yours as you both celebrated the victory. He buried his face in your neck, pressing soft kisses there, and held you even tighter. For those moments, it was like you two were in a world of your own, with nothing else but the joy of the moment. Ni-ki cheered from the side, and you couldn’t help but laugh louder, savoring the warmth of Heeseung’s embrace and the pride in his eyes that said, You did it. And he was so inlove with you for it

Park jongseong - 박종성

Sunoo sat across from you at the table, casually tossing back a handful of vitamins like they were candy. You’d seen him do it a few times before, but today, it just hit a nerve. Without thinking, you smacked your hand on the table, standing up and giving him a firm scolding. “Sunoo, you can’t keep doing this! You know that’s not how vitamins work; you need to take them properly and with meals, not all at once!”

Everyone went quiet, the entire room watching as you laid into him. Sunoo’s eyes widened as he looked over at Jay, silently pleading for rescue, but Jay just leaned back, a smirk tugging at his lips. He wasn’t about to step in—he knew he could never bring himself to scold Sunoo, even when he was doing something reckless. But seeing you, so fiercely protective and willing to call Sunoo out on his habits, made Jay’s heart swell with pride.

As you finally finished scolding Sunoo, Jay stepped up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning close turning you around to face him. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “You’d make such a good mother, darling. Seeing you take care of Sunoo like that… it makes me want to marry you right now.”

Your cheeks flushed, his words sinking in as Sunoo pouted across the table, but Jay just grinned, looking completely smitten. In that moment, he knew he’d found someone who he could love and depend on—someone he wanted to build a future with.

Sim jaeyun - 심재윤

Hide and seek with Jake had turned into one of those innocent games that somehow made the world outside feel like a distant memory. As you crouched in the bathroom shower, you held your breath, trying not to make a sound. You heard his footsteps approaching and braced yourself, thinking he might actually pass by. But just as you relaxed, the shower curtain flew open, and Jake was there, grinning.

Startled, you nearly stumbled backward, but Jake’s hands shot out to catch you. Unfortunately, his balance didn’t hold, and both of you tumbled straight into the bathtub, hitting the water switch in the chaos. In an instant, water drenched you both, soaking your clothes, hair, and everything around you.

For a moment, you both just looked at each other, wide-eyed, before bursting into laughter that echoed through the bathroom. The world beyond the apartment disappeared completely, leaving just the two of you, laughing so hard that neither of you could even hear the water running.

Jake’s head ended up resting on your chest, his laughter vibrating against you, tickling you even more. As the laughter finally began to settle, he raised his head, his eyes meeting yours. His gaze softened, a warmth there that made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

In that messy, chaotic moment, he knew—this was it. This was what he wanted for the rest of his life. Smiling, he leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper, “You’re everything I need. Even if every day is as wild as this, I’d spend forever with you.”

Park sunghoon - 박성훈

Sunghoon let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his messy hair as he tried to make sense of the scene before him. There you were, standing barefoot in the middle of the kitchen, your expression a mix of mischief and adrenaline as you attempted yet another backflip. The dim kitchen light only made your wild energy feel more surreal, and he was starting to question if he was still dreaming.

“Y/n,” he began, his voice raspy from sleep, “what in the world are you doing?”

But before you could respond, you noticed him and gasped, startled by his sudden appearance. The next thing he knew, you wobbled mid-attempt, almost crashing into the counter. His reflexes kicked in, and within seconds, he had you safely in his arms, holding you as if you weighed nothing.

Now, here you were, sprawled on top of him as you both hit the floor, your giggles filling the silent kitchen. Despite his initial annoyance, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound. You looked up at him, eyes sparkling with a mix of guilt and pure joy.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” he muttered, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. His heart was too busy fluttering at the sight of your laughter to allow any actual frustration.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted between giggles. “And I thought… why not learn a new skill? Backflips seemed cool.”

“Cool?” he repeated, raising a brow. “It’s 2 a.m., Y/N. Normal people sleep.”

You pouted, resting your chin on his chest. “You love me anyway.”

He let out another sigh, this one more fond than frustrated. “Yeah, I do,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible but full of sincerity. “But I’m not letting you practice gymnastics at this hour anymore. You’re a hazard.”

You grinned, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Deal. But only if you teach me tomorrow.”

He groaned, but the corners of his lips twitched upward. “Fine. But for now, back to bed, you little maniac.”

With that, he effortlessly scooped you up and carried you back to the bedroom, already plotting ways to keep your late-night energy bursts under control—while secretly loving every chaotic second of it. Kim sunoo - 김순우

Sunoo groaned softly as he shifted in your arms, the exhaustion evident on his face. His body felt like lead, his muscles screaming from hours of practice. All he wanted was peace, quiet, and, most importantly, you. And you, being you, were more than ready to deliver—though in your own unique way.

He let out a small hum of contentment when you pulled him onto your chest, your fingers brushing through his hair with a tenderness that made his heart ache in the best way. For a moment, he thought he might actually drift off, lulled by your warmth and presence. That was until you started rapping.

“This one is for the boys with the booming system…”

Sunoo cracked one eye open, his lips twitching upward despite himself. “Y/N,” he mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep. ��This isn’t a lullaby. This is Nicki Minaj.”

You didn’t even pause, your finger pressing softly against his lips to shush him as you continued, your voice growing more animated with each line. His initial confusion quickly gave way to uncontrollable giggles, his chest vibrating against yours as he tried—and failed—to keep a straight face.

“Stop laughing!” you teased mid-verse, though your grin betrayed your faux seriousness.

“I can’t help it,” he managed between breaths, his cheeks flushed from laughter. “You’re so ridiculous. Who raps Nicki Minaj as a lullaby?”

You shrugged dramatically, feigning offense. “A supportive partner who just wants their babygirl to feel better. That’s who.”

He groaned, hiding his face in your chest, but the warmth of his laughter didn’t fade. “I’m not your babygirl, Y/N,” he grumbled, though his tone lacked any real conviction.

“Yes, you are,” you replied with a smirk, running your fingers through his hair again. “Now hush. Babygirl needs to rest.”

His protests faded as he gave in, the sound of your voice—ridiculous lyrics and all—somehow bringing him the comfort his aching body had been craving. He didn’t know how you managed it, but in that moment, Sunoo couldn’t feel anything but pure love for you.

“You’re crazy,” he muttered softly, his eyes fluttering shut at last.

“Yeah yeah and you are saint” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I am,” he murmured, a content smile spreading across his lips as he finally drifted off, feeling safe, cherished, and deeply, deeply loved.

Yang jungwon - 양중원

The moment you walked into the living room, Jungwon froze. His eyes widened slightly, and his jaw dropped just a little before he quickly clamped it shut, but his expression was enough to make you pause. You frowned, glancing down at your outfit and then back at him. His silence was… unnerving.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you asked suspiciously, crossing your arms. “Is it bad? Should I change?”

Before you could even turn around to retreat back into the bedroom, Jungwon moved faster than you could react. In one swift motion, he scooped you up effortlessly, his arms wrapping around your knees as he threw you over his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Jungwon!” you gasped, your hands instinctively gripping his back. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, his voice low and full of warmth, “You are the most gorgeous human being my eyes have ever been laid on. You’re not going anywhere.”

Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in your throat. “You’re so dramatic,” you muttered, but your voice was softer, betraying how flustered you were.

“And you’re perfect,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jungwon carried you over to the couch and gently set you down, still holding your gaze with that awe-struck expression. “I was waiting for four hours, and I’d wait four more if it meant seeing you like this. So, no, you’re not changing.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension of the evening melting away in an instant. “Fine, I won’t change,” you relented, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Good,” he said with a satisfied grin, sitting beside you and pulling you into his arms. “Now, let’s go. But I’m warning you—I won’t be able to stop staring at you all night.”

And true to his word, he didn’t.

Ni- ki -남편

Ni-ki had been lounging on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, when you walked into the dorm unannounced. He wasn’t expecting you, and seeing you after your boxing session—in your short-sleeved hoodie, boxing shorts, and ponytail—nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.

His first instinct? Stay cool. Play it off. Be the nonchalant guy he swore he was. But his heart had other plans, hammering against his chest like it was trying to escape.

You casually greeted everyone, your presence lighting up the room as you sat down to eat. Ni-ki tried his best to keep it together, but every time you spoke or laughed, a stutter threatened to spill out.

Jake and Sunghoon didn’t miss a thing. They exchanged knowing smirks, watching Ni-ki fumble with his chopsticks and glance at you like a lovesick puppy. You, of course, were oblivious, too focused on the food you brought to notice how hard he was trying not to lose it.

When you got up to grab some water, Ni-ki smacked his face with his palm, muttering under his breath, “Get it together, man. You’re cooler than this.”

By the time you returned, Jake and Sunghoon had conveniently disappeared, leaving just the two of you in the room. You set your glass down, and before you could sit, Ni-ki grabbed your wrist.

“Ni-ki?” you asked, raising a brow at him.

He avoided your gaze, his face flushed as he hid it against your neck. His grip on your wrist was firm but gentle, his voice barely audible. “You’re driving me crazy. Do you know that?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden boldness. “Bro, I’m literally sweaty as hell. Don’t even think about hugging me right now.”

He groaned but didn’t let go, his breath warm against your skin. “I don’t care. You look way too good, and it’s messing with me.”

You laughed, trying to wiggle free, but he only held on tighter. “So, what, you’re just gonna cling to me until you recover?”

“Exactly,” he mumbled, finally glancing up at you with a sheepish smile. “Just… let me have this moment, okay?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but the grin on your face gave you away. “Fine. But if you pass out from how gross I am right now, that’s on you.”

He chuckled, finally relaxing a little. “Totally worth it.”

[heeliopheelia]

𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘-! 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍... 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘? 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍, 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 (p. jay x reader)

tw: fem! reader, rough sex, no protection, well daddy kink ig, darcyphilia, pet names, hair pulling, doggy style, slight spanking, heavily implied oral at the end

word count: 0.6k

masterlist

The couch armrest is not the most comfortable object to be bent over while all the air gets knocked out of your lungs, but oh well…

“You’re mine. Only mine,” your boyfriend rasps from behind you, hand gripping your hip and pulling you into his cock with force.

Jay watches as his red tip gets swallowed by your pussy so eagerly, the position you’re in really granting him a magazine-cover worthy view. 

“S-slower,” you whimper out somehow with your cheek smushed against the cushion. “Go slower, daddy. Please.”

His borderline brutal pace doesn’t allow you to catch a break to fill your lungs back up properly as anytime you try to open your mouth, you’re being humbled by only being able to let out lewd noises. 

“Don’t worry.” You whine when his hand tangles itself in your hair and the next second you’re being pulled upwards from the couch. “I’ll fuck you real good, princess.”

And you have zero doubts about that. He snugs himself deeper into your tight pussy and you moan loudly at his warmth. Your teeth bite down on your bottom lip harshly as you try to hold onto any dignity that’s left in you, though you can feel it beginning to tremble just mere seconds later. 

“Just stay still and look pretty for me, yeah?” He taunts you, nose brushing against your arched neck. 

“Y-Yes, daddy,” you stutter out between his thrusts, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Then you add with a small voice strained with a whine, “Anything for you.”

The title never ceases to make Jay’s cock harden and now is not an exception. So with a breathy laugh, he lands a smack on your already reddened ass and rewards you with an even faster pace. 

“Now that’s a good fucking girl.”

He lets go of your hair and you fall back into the cushions with a weak mewl. You’re so exposed beneath him, so dependent on him and he loves you like this. 

Spreading your legs even more apart, your feet lose whatever ground they had and now you feel more like a ragdoll at his mercy than an actual sane woman. Your body jolts forward with the harsh smack of his hips as your legs dangle in the air helplessly. 

“Oh my god, daddy! I’m gonna cum, daddy,” you cry breathlessly, frantically, fingers digging into the cushion as a first teardrop runs down your cheek and blends with the bright fabric, staining it with mascara. 

Jay’s head lolls back as a loud grunt escapes through his gritted teeth and he pounds into you wildly, simultaneously blacking out any thought out of your mind. He feels so thick and heavy between your plush walls. You shudder and pant loudly when with the next slap to your ass, you come harder than you’ve ever had before.

And you're so tight just before you loosen up for him, warm juices coating his cock. He stays inside for a moment longer, giving you shallow thrusts as you slowly come down from your high. Your body is hot and trembling as he grabs you by your legs and flips you onto your back. 

Your ears are ringing as you try to get used to not having him inside you anymore, then blink slowly when Jay comes into the frame of your view for the first time this hour. And he’s beautiful. Toned body glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed and cock hard and leaking. 

He stands right above your exhausted self, and you look up at him with mascara under your eyes as his thumb swipes along your bottom lip, only to push it inside your mouth the next second, parting it with his finger.

“Open up, baby. Daddy needs to cum too.”

taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @seongiewon @nichoswag @s00buwu @mon2sunjinsuver @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @criminalyun @enhabooks @antoinettenotfound

[moxfirefly]

This has been in the back of my mind for a while now. So I figured I’d try getting it out. While this doesn’t mean I’m “back” back, it doesn’t mean the few good folk on here shouldn’t (hopefully) enjoy this. For the foreseeable future I don’t feel like I’ll be taking request but you can maybe catch my own doings here and there.

But on with the show.

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

You feel you’ll go out of your mind at this rate.

All the staring.

The quiet little gestures.

His passive resistance.

You’ve remained glued to your spot for so long. Hoping that maybe somewhere between weeks in the months of the years you’ve known him, that he’d crack.

Leonardo doesn’t crack easily you’ve gathered.

He hardly moves. He doesn’t allow his eyes to betray him. His hands remain within eyesight, but it’s in the subtle clench of his knuckles. The way his hands ball up and quickly stretch exposing the veins.

While he smiles sweetly, almost submissively at the sound of your voice. You know he doesn’t show this to just anybody. He doesn’t allow himself the luxury but god dammit, you can see that he wants to drink you in.

You’re liquor to him, addicting and burning.

You’re oil to him, never quite mixed with the water he floats upon.

You’re pornography to him, a hidden treasure for when he’s too far gone.

So why does it ache so much to open your mouth? To make a move. To peel back that layer of protection he’s been so steadfast in building.

Because he could still reject.

He could push away your pulling aura.

So when you stand next to him during the group picture April insisted on taking. Feeling the cold of his skin so close to your arm. Your little hairs sticking out to somehow feel something of his. You don’t think, don’t linger on the possibility of rejection. Because when your pinky reaches for his palm, gently caressing his hand, begging for permission you somehow only whisper in your mind…

You hold back the gasp as his own finger wraps around yours.

It’s tentative and charged with electricity.

He’s a knife.

You chance a look at him from the corner of your eye and watch his throat bob. The tension in his broad shoulders, the shakiness of his irises. The fight to turn and stare right back at you, to cut you with his blue eyes and inquire if his fantasies have become fact for once.

When you feel an arm around your shoulders as everyone screams cheese, it takes your entire will to muster your designer smile. Leo seems to do the same, a defeated retreat from the prize.

You still feel him weeks later. The way the top of his hand rubbed against your own.

What you’d give to have that palm right now between your legs, trying to rush the blood to your brain and drowning you in the ecstasy he could give. You wonder if he’s done the same? Have you driven him insane all these months? Made him question every waking moment of his life?

Are his pretty beaten hands wrapped around himself right now?

Is he begin for you?

Is he dying for you?

Somehow this all comes to fruition one evening. Another night with your friends. Celebrating another big win.

You get sent to the supply closet to get something (because at this point you forgot what) and as you rummage through a box, that tiny bulb swinging around you like a halo. You feel that rush when the door opens.

A hand reaching and gripping the back of your neck and pulling.

Lips.

At the shell of your ear.

You gasp.

Leo feels mortification sink deep.

But before he allows the logical side to quick in, you grip the fabric of his pant leg.

“Don’t-“ you hold him there, silently begging him.

Leo let’s out a breath he’s been holding since his feet took him to you.

Several heartbeats pass, tension building and swirling around both your souls. Somewhere between bravery and madness you grab those hands press those palms around you.

And hold on for dear life.

Presses you against himself like a security blanket. Greedily inhales and exhales you. You’re shaking but god Leo is shaking worse.

He slides down you, comes to his knees and watches you turn around his embrace and watch him as he lets his vices win this time.

It’s the way those eyes look up at you, apologetically, fascinated, tormented.

His stomach drops when you cup his face, fear overwritten his features.

He looks weak, he knows it.

But to you? To you he’s the most beautiful creature. Gentle features, eyes as blue as the sky. Lips surprisingly warm, hesitant and yet needy. He’s kissing back just as your hands run across his cheeks and neck. Lips molding, desperation kicking in because now he’s had a taste. Now he knows what paradise tastes like.

His hands fall to your hips, gripping as he leans up more, still tall enough on his knees for your comfort. When he feels your moan, captures it inside his throat; he knows he’s done for.

Weakened by you.

Overwhelmed by you.

He can hear himself panting, the blood inside his veins pumping. How your sounds pick up the more he kisses you back.

You smile against the corner of his mouth as he grabs your waist and stands up with you in his arms. The contents inside the supply closet rattle to the ground but his hold is bruising and the prospect of his hand marked on your flesh make you euphoric.

Leo’s tongue and yours.

His nails digging into your rear, yours at his neck.

His teeth meet your bottom lip.

He’s hard and rubbing against the spot of your underwear.

You should stop, lead him into something more understandable.

But the greedy little creature inside of you chants ‘more!’ Just as he moans into your mouth for the twentieth time. A sound hitches in the back of your throat when you feel something warm gush and connect with your wetness.

You’re doing this to him.

You’re causing this.

He’s cumming for YOU.

That desperate point of no return is there, the two of your skating down it. His kissing is erratic and out of sync because his eyes are going wide.

His locked to your own blown out pupils.

He wants to apologize, to stop but your hips just rubbed up against him just as you start to cum. His name seeping out of your wet parten lips.

The haze will clear.

The mess will remain.

But what will you say?

What will he say?

[holylulusworld]

Rise from the ashes (2) – Out of the woods

Summary: You’re abandoned, but the woods offer more than trees.

Pairing: Alpha(dark king) Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, betrayal, a/b/o, scenting, protective Ari, werewolf au, fluff

A/N: In my story, they live in a strict a/b/o verse. If an omega is rejected, she’ll be banned from the pack and left to die.

Catch up here: Rise from the ashes (1) - Into the woods

Rise from the ashes masterlist

His words still ring in your ears when Ari carefully cuts the ropes binding your wrists open. Ari’s features darken when he tugs the ropes into his pocket.

He cannot risk leaving any trace of you behind. A skilled alpha could easily find you after catching your scent on the ropes.

“How could they do this to me, and the others?” You murmur while he gently rubs the sore skin. “We followed the rules and tried anything to be good omegas.”

“I don’t know,” he replies, concern coloring his features. “For years, they send an omega into the woods. Every year, at the same time.” Ari runs his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. He curses himself for not bringing his jacket.

“I—” You sniffle, remembering how Alpha Prime betrayed you. “They said something about a forest god. I never heard anything about them before.”

“I assume it has something to do with an old legend. It was said that in the depths of the woods, a forbidden god is fulfilling your darkest desires. I never believed in fairytales, though,” he recalls what he remembers. “If I remember right, there was a catch. You must sacrifice something innocent and pure to fulfill your wishes.”

Ari crouches down. He carefully lifts one of your legs to take your shoe off. You hiss as the blisters only got worse, and your feet are bleeding now.

“It hurts,” you whine. “I shouldn’t have chosen these shoes.” You glance at the pretty but uncomfortable shoes you chose for the ceremony.

Ari helps you sit down to take your other shoe off. “Give me a minute. Stay here, omega. I’ll be right back to help you with your feet.”

You nod and wrap your arms around yourself to protect yourself from the cold. “I’ll be waiting here.” Ari is still a stranger, but somehow you know he doesn’t mean any harm to you.

“Here, take this.” He takes off his shirt. “It’s not much, but my scent will keep the animals and rogues away.”

You lift your arms, allowing Ari to help you put his shirt on. “Thank you,” you murmur. “Not only for the shirt. You’ve saved me.”

“How could I  not save my mate,” he laughs before disappearing into the darkness. You hold your breath, trying to follow him with your eyes, but the moon doesn’t provide light any longer.

You gnaw at your lower lip, praying to whoever is listening for the alpha to return. If not, you’d be lost forever in the woods, a feast for the rogues or any animal.

“Hey, you need to calm down,” Ari softly says as he returns. “I’m here. No one is going to hurt you with me by your side.”

The alpha crouches down, his eyes fiery red again to help him see your feet. He chews something before spitting it into his palm. “Angel, this will burn for a moment, but your feet will heal faster.”

Ari carefully rubs the mixture of his spit, herbs, and grass onto your feet. You whimper when the mixture touches the raw flesh. “I promise it will help with the pain too,” Ari murmurs. He makes quick work, rubbing the mixture into your skin. “All done. You can’t walk anymore.”

“We can’t stay here.” You panic. What if Ari decides to leave you here because you cannot walk? “I need to bring you somewhere safe. I scared the rogues off, but this doesn’t mean that others won’t try to get their pound of flesh.”

You grab your shoes, trying your best to get up. “What are you doing?” Ari is fast to stop you. He brings you into his arm, pressing you close to his warm chest. “I said you cannot walk. I’ll carry you.”

“You can’t carry me around the woods! It’s pitch black and monsters are lurking in the dark,” you sniffle. “You’ll be an easy target.”

He laughs, deep and rich. “Trust me,” he snarls, eyes dropping to your chest. “The only monster within these woods is me. And I’ll always find my way back home in the dark.”

Ari didn’t lie. He ran through the woods for what felt like hours, only stopping to listen to the noises in the woods.

He snarled now and then before running again. You could only press your head against his shoulder and let him carry you around.

“Almost there, angel. Hang on. I know it’s cold and you must be exhausted,” he murmured, sniffing at your hair. Ari inhales deeply, purring low in his throat. “I’ll bring you home.

You nod against him, too worn out and tired to speak. Ari starts to run again, but this time he doesn’t stop until you reach a considerable cabin, nestled deep in the woods.

He carries you inside, immediately placing you on a comfortable couch in front of a fireplace. “I’ll get you food and water, angel. I know you’re tired, but you need to eat and drink something before I clean your feet and bandage them.”

You snuggle into a pillow, sighing as you are about to drift into sleep. “You need to stay awake for now.” Ari softly says. “Here, eat and drink something first. I’ll take care of your feet now.”

Just now, you realize you’re starving. Your stomach growls loudly when you look at the sandwich Ari made for you. Without thinking twice, you grab the sandwich and dig in. Whatever happens after is out of your control.

While you eat, Ari gently cleans your feet and bandages them. “I know you’d love to take a bath after running through the woods, but you need a rest now. I’ll help you bathe tomorrow, promised.”

“Where are we?” You finally dare to ask.

“My home,” he replies. “I won’t hurt you.” Ari cups your face with one big hand. “I promise to answer all of your questions tomorrow too. For now, you need to sleep.”

“Sleep,” you mumble, half-asleep. “I’m so tired.” He hums and picks you up again to carry you upstairs.

“You can rest now. I’ll make sure they don’t follow us.” His eyes flash red for a moment, and you sigh again. Content for the first time since you left your pack…

[respondedinkind]

Plotted starter for @mehrere-musen | MCU Verse

When Ka'anh awakes, the first thing he sees is a planet, filled with blue and greens and browns, clouds scattered along the surface. He also realizes that the whole of his shuttle seems to be offline; No lights are on besides the dull red hue of what indicates an emergency situation. He hurts, badly so, and groans out in pain as he tries to get back onto his feet, tries to---

The shuttle's pulled toward the planet, he realizes, just as he tries to reach a few buttons with his bloody fingers. He can't even stand, he just lies there, with his upper half resting against the seat, arm outstretched in an attempt to fix what could be broken. Ka'anh hisses, bares his teeth, grunts as another wave of pain pushes through him while he tries to stand again - but then the shuttle shakes; Gravitation has finally wrapped itself around his vessel in full, and now the descent upon the foreign planet is sped up with each second that passes.

This will become a hell of a ride, he knows. There's nothing he can do besides holding onto something, pushing himself against a nearby wall, away from anything that could fall down onto him as the shuttle proceeds to fly through the thick atmosphere. It's probably getting too hot as well, with all the shields being offline, unable to protect the shell from the rough treatment of the sudden friction it receives.

The fall itself sends a stomach tumbling and Ka'anh grits his teeth, squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that it will soon be over and that he will survive the impact thats about to come.

He doesn't want to die like this. Not after having managed to flee from his own planet, then getting sucked into what had looked like an opening within the Universe itself, just to be thrown down onto another world he's unfamilair with---

He's afraid, that's the last thing he feels before everything becomes dark and his senses vanish from existence, together with his consciousness.

...

When he awakes again, he's unsure if he's even alive, still.

He's lying on his stomach, outside of his shuttle, with his face buried in dry soil; With every intake of air he inhales some of it, which causes Ka'anh to cough and gasp for oxygen, so he does, almost dry-heaving from the pain it causes him.

He blinks, lifts his head somewhat and looks at a blurry picture in front of him - a mass of gray, perhaps it's his shuttle, parts of it burning and smoke rising into the air. He cannot see clearly, he doesn't hear much, and the pain he's in is excruciating. He's surely broken his right leg, his hip even, because he cannot feel it - his rattling breath tells him at least one broken rip has broken the tissue of his lung, and judged by how dizzy he feels, he must be suffering from what could be a rather serious brain-injury.

But, Ka'anh's alive. he's still here, even though he's just crashed down onto this foreign planet.

A grunt leaves him and he closes his eyes, then inhales as much as he can before he tries to push himself up onto all-fours. There's blood soaked into the dirt beneath him and one of his arms is definitely broken, next to the right leg that won't cooperate... but somehow he keeps himself in this all-fours-position, swallowing down the taste of copper and nausea he feels.

Fuck. Fuck - he needs to get to his shuttle, find the medkit in there---...

[circeyoru]

Foreign Reality

[Sung Jinwoo x Memory intact!Reader - Academy Arc]

As weird as it sounds, you recall a world that was the same as this one but different. There were things known as ‘Gates’ and inside them are ‘Dungeons’ filled with all types of beasts and monsters that bring mankind harm. To counter that, there are awakened individuals known as ‘Hunters’ that would go into these Dungeons to defeat the boss and prevent an outbreak. That was the gist of it.

Now there was nothing. When you told your parents about it, they told you that you were dreaming too hard and that you needed to wake up. 

So how could you not feel the chill when the newly transferred student entered the classroom? Somehow you were able to recognize him. In your dream, he was the strongest Hunter, from the bottom to the top, he was famed for his strength and will to protect. Yet most remember him as the one-man army because of his ability to command shadow beasts and monsters. 

While the class teacher gave the former strongest Hunter the time to introduce himself, you already recalled his name like an echo to his introduction. “Sung Jinwoo.”

Over the next few days, Jinwoo was the topic of discussion for many people, both students and teachers. The girls were fonding over his coolness and smart nature, as he was top of his class like you were though you relied on your former knowledge and mentality. The boys were envious of the attention he was getting and his seemingly handsome appearance. The teachers praised him for his academic results and athletic talent. There seemed to be no flaws or faults with him.

Well, almost. It seemed like he was a bit on the dense and serious side. 

You recall the first day when a group of boys taunted him for wearing a single black glove over his hand, only to end up backing down when Jinwoo showed them a nasty scar. At the time, you were just passing by to leave the classroom, but you swore that scar couldn’t be made by normal means. Then again, you never knew what Jinwoo went through in his upbringing, so you kept it to yourself.

Then there were the constant confessions. You lost count of the library or rooftop confessions that you happened to stumble upon during your breaks. The library and rooftop were your go-to places to relax, yet somehow, Jinwoo’s love confessions were always there and sometimes in the hallways. You’d always see girls crying their hearts out and running away, when you looked over, Jinwoo smiled and waved at you. 

Though you nodded your head with a neutral expression before you left. You really wanted to give him a piece of your mind, by then you were sure he rejected and made a bunch of girls cry. If he weren’t the former strongest Hunter and praised and admired by you, you would have given Jinwoo the cold shoulders. You wondered if he had always been like this even before the timeline repeated itself.

But there were times when you wondered if he knew that time repeated like you did. You hoped that there was someone you could connect with. There was so many times that you felt so foreign in your place. Like everything was a lie. Maybe it was because you were used to the you and world in that former timeline, maybe it was because everything felt so real there and to be denied that reality was breaking to you.

So that might have led you to what you did then.

It was any other day after school was done and it was time for the extracurriculars. Jinwoo was in track and field while you were in a literature club. Yours ended earlier than his, and when you left, you’d catch him on his breaks. Like always, he’d be under that tree, sitting at the base of it and holding onto his water bottle while he napped a bit. 

Your legs brought you over to him and you squat down to stare at his features. Your eyes blinked as you waited for any form of reaction from him. If he were like you, he’d still have his Hunter senses, but there was none. Your face crunched together a bit as you tested another method. You slowly and gently took his bottle from his hand, still he didn’t seem to be conscious. So you sat down by him and set his bottle between you two.

“Hey, do you remember something like a portal to dungeons? Like in those games or movies? Haha, it’s silly huh? But I remember a world like that. There were brave Hunters who protected normal people with their powers and strength every day, they risked their lives to protect humanity. No matter their rank.” You stared at the sky as you talked your mind out. For some reason, you felt comfortable saying all this to him, even when he was sleeping.

Of course, you never saw the twitch in his fingers and the various eyes that stared at your form from the shadows. You continued your ranting.

“There was once the weakest Hunter who tried his best just to get by, then he was suddenly the strongest. Despite everything he went through, he never hated others or the world, nor did he take revenge. He was so selfishly selfless.” You clenched your hands as you looked down, “I’m sure, in the end, he did something, but it wasn’t just for himself. I can’t tell, but he was so stupid to just suffer the weight of it all alone.”

You failed to notice how his jaws clenched tightly.

“Haha. Well, I’m just being silly.” You got up and patted your clothes to remove any dirt or grass stuck to your fabric. You looked down to see if his form had changed, only to notice nothing out of the ordinary. You chuckled, picking out a leaf from his hair and blowing it away so that it could follow the breeze. You turned your attention back to him and bowed your head saying, “Thank you, Hunter Sung Jinwoo, for all you’ve done.” You straightened up and smiled before turning away from him. “I wish you the happiest lifetime for your efforts and suffering.”

Not even a few steps in, your eyes widened as your smile fell straight from shock. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist as your head tilted to see who it was. Jinwoo.

“Always. You always have a way with words. You know that?” Jinwoo’s voice cracked. 

You flinched, figuring he heard you, “Uh, um, I was just referencing to a novel the literature club had its members read! Nothing too serious! I, really…”

The way Jinwoo’s eyes glowed purple made your words fall short. “Don’t lie. You remember. You remember it all. Please.”

Your heart ached for some reason you can’t explain. In your memories, you were nothing special to the S-Rank Hunter Sung Jinwoo. You were one of the bystanders who cheered him on. You were only something to him when he visited his mother at the hospital, you as the doctor in charge of his mother’s treatment and stay. After his mother was discharged, there was no reason for him to return or visit the hospital because he had no need for it. 

Once, you witnessed his soldiers when his sister was brought to you to check due to some dungeon break in her school. You were so busy calming her down that you ignored the soldiers’ stare. When the Hunter appeared in the room, you professionally relayed his sister’s condition to him and he, in such a troubled state, didn’t spare you greetings of the like. 

After then, you’ve been keeping an eye out on the news for his good work for humanity. Just silently cheering him on from the sidelines because you knew you wouldn’t be able to help him. When you saw him with other S-Ranked Hunters, you felt content and proud, sometimes you can’t believe that was the same small frail E-Rank Hunter that would try to pay his mother’s medical bills with wounds and injuries all over his body. 

You reached your hand to the top of his head as best you could. Perhaps it was a good thing. In this world, he doesn’t need to throw himself into the dangerous dungeons with monsters that want to tear him apart. “Yes, I lied. I remember it all. But aren’t you going to go look for your other friends?”

His grip on you tightened. “I... I’ve wanted to stay by your side for a long time, but it was either you were too busy with your work or I was. There never was a time. When I reversed time, I thought I could correct things. But this time, there were other obstacles.”

“You could have just come talk to me.” You chuckled at his words. “Instead, I got a look good at how you’ve always made girls cry. Can’t you let them down gently?”

“But I was being honest.”

“Brutally honest…” You sighed. 

Jinwoo loosened up a bit, turning you so that he’d meet your eyes and you’d meet his, “What does this make us?”

You poked your finger at the middle of his chest, pushing him away from you, “Nothing serious. We’re starting from rock bottom. As friends.”

Jinwoo smiled, nodding at your words. “Well, we both have the time.”

“Right.” You huffed, content with this result until you recalled something. “Wait, you reversed time!?”

That day, under the tree and with the breeze of the wind, your surprised rambles gave the Shadow Monarch his solace back. For so long, he has dreamed of meeting you again and staying by your side. You were so diligent and caring that he never stood a chance, even when he became an S-Rank Hunter. 

Jinwoo laughed while you continued to speak at the speed of light over what he said. His eyes curled to crescent moons as he watched you stress over what insane thing he had done for the world again. All the while, within his Realm of Eternal Slumber, his Shadows cheered for their reunion, certain few plotting ways to move the relationship faster and deeper. 

With your distracted mind, Jinwoo plopped his form on top of yours while you tried to balance yourself. “It’s so good to have you back.”

“I’ve been here the entire time…” You pouted while you grounded yourself from the sandbag over your head. Still, you can’t help but chuckle, messing up Jinwoo’s hair. “I’ll be in your care this time.”

Note: Another Solo Leveling work! Hope you guys enjoy this one too!

*edited note: I'm opening the request for Solo Leveling request only. Check my masterlist for the rules. Thanks~!

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

[writingfics-passingtime]

hello lovie! just found your mixtape thing, and I love the idea so much! was wondering, whenever you’re able of course, if you could write something based off the song ‘biomes’ by james heather? preferably with matt! it’s also a classical piece, so not too sure on how well that’ll do! thank you in advance 🫶🏻

This one-shot is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a collection based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Before, and Now

Song Prompt: Biomes - James Heather

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (no pronouns used, and no y/n)

Word Count: ~1360

CW: swearing, violence (against the reader), I wrote this before Born Again came out so don't @ me if it doesn't fit the new series pleeeease and thankyou

Minors DNI: this work does not contain smut, but contains a romantic relationship between the reader and adult-aged characters. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

Note: Thanks, strry! I love classical pieces and have written many stories to them (including a mega-length one in my drafts), so I'm glad you sent this one in. I hope you like it!

Matt has always hated the smell of the police station. Sweat, desperation, the chemical tang of stale coffee, damp uniforms, and something uneasy beneath it all.

Blood. Not fresh, not yours, but it clings to the air like a bad memory.

Your hand is small in his, cold despite the heat of the building. He has both of his hands wrapped around yours, like he can somehow fuse them together, make himself an unbreakable barrier between you and the rest of the world. But your fingers don’t squeeze back. They don’t do anything.

Your silence is suffocating.

His leg won’t stop bouncing. He can’t sit still, can’t stop the way his pulse hammers in his throat, can’t do a goddamn thing except hold your hand and listen to the flickering light above, the heartbeat of the cop at the front desk, the thick exhaustion in your every breath.

This is his fault.

He knew something was wrong the second you started up the stairs.

Your footsteps are usually light and easy, a rhythm he knows like the back of his own hand. But tonight they were heavy. Weighted. Hesitant.

A pause on the landing. A sniff. Another step.

Too slow. Too careful.

He knew you were tired and overworked, but something crawled up his spine the way it always did right before a fight.

Then you opened the door.

And Matt smelled blood.

Your blood.

His stomach turned to ice, righteous rage curling up from somewhere deep inside him, but he swallowed it down, controlled himself as he carefully crossed the room. He didn’t know where the injury was, didn’t know how bad, didn’t know if you were seconds away from crumpling into him or if you were standing on your own two feet only because you willed yourself to.

“What happened?” His voice came out steady, but he felt anything but.

“I'm okay,” you said, and fuck, you were lying to him. It was instinct, the same way you always tried to downplay things. You did it to protect him. And that made him feel even worse. “It’s just my lip. It's not a lot of blood.”

“Who?” he asked, sharper this time, hands ghosting up your arms, carefully mapping over you, trying to find where else you were hurt. The cut on your lip wasn’t the only thing. He could feel it. The stiffness in your ribs, the way you barely breathed too deep. He was about to ask again when-

“Who’s Tommy Bracewell?”

He stopped. Frowned. “What?”

He knew that name. A client. A case. Nothing he would ever have connected to you.

But then you told him.

Someone grabbed you by the back of the neck. Pushed you face-first into a wall, jammed a gun into your ribs. Tell your boyfriend he better get Tommy Bracewell outta jail, or next time I see you, you’re not walking away.

Matt went still. Too still. The kind of stillness that preceded violence.

He ran over your words again in his head, the exact phrasing, the exact tone, searching for something, anything that could tell him who did this. Who fucking touched you. Who put their hands on you, pressed a fucking gun to you, and thought they’d get away with it.

His hands had started shaking.

You had reached out, barely brushing his wrist. “Matt.”

He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

He never thought it would be his work - his fucking job - that got you hurt. He always knew there was risk in what he did, but he thought it would be the other thing. The mask. The blood. The Devil. Not some piece-of-shit gangbanger using you to get to him.

He could've gone out right then. Put on the suit. Find them. Beat a name out of the first guy stupid enough to cross his path. But that would expose him. Expose you.

His stomach churned at the alternative.

Fisk.

He could… ask. Pull a favour. Trade something.

Fisk could make this go away.

But then he thought of you. Of the way your voice had sounded when you told him what happened. Shaken, but steady. Matt knew you. Knew the way you would never forgive him if he did that. If he owed that man for your safety.

And he knew you were waiting for him to say something.

“… We need to go to the police.”

You didn’t want to. He heard it in the way your breath hitched, the hesitation in your pulse.

But you trusted him.

So you did.

The cop station is just another level of hell.

Matt listens to the officer at the front, lazily flipping through a file, his pulse slow, steady, uncaring. The man doesn’t give a shit. Neither do half the others in this place.

He grips your hand tighter, but you still don’t squeeze back.

“I’m gonna get you some coffee,” he says quietly.

You nod, but it’s distant.

He gets up, extending his cane, walking with careful purpose across the room. He doesn’t need to feel his way there, but he pretends to anyway. Because it makes men like him underestimate him - the cop who steps up beside him.

Matt smells cigarettes on his breath. Something thick and dark in his voice, a kind of sick satisfaction curling around the edges.

“Maybe now you know how it feels,” the officer murmurs, low and taunting. “All those families who never get justice.”

Matt stills. His stomach twists.

The cop doesn’t stop. “Maybe next time, Mr Murdock... you’ll think a little harder about defending some worthless gangbanger.”

Matt’s grip tightens on his cane.

He inhales slowly, evenly, calculating. He tilts his head, as if considering, as if weighing the words, but the only thing he’s thinking about is how satisfying it would be to feel this guy’s teeth crack under his fist.

But that wouldn’t help you.

So he breathes. He exhales. He turns back toward you.

And he walks away.

Back in the apartment in the early hours of the morning, everything feels wrong. The walls feel too close. The air too thick with everything that’s happened. You sit on the couch, exhausted, and Matt’s doing everything he can to keep his own bleeding heart from spilling out into the room.

He talks, hurriedly at first, explaining the plan, the steps he’s going to take. He tells you he'll protect you. He tells you it will be okay. But his voice cracks on the last sentence, and he knows you hear it. He knows you hear how not okay everything is.

You stop him with a soft touch, stepping into his arms.

“If you want to help,” you murmur, voice so raw it rips through him, “just hold me.”

You don’t want the plans. The protection. The promises.

You just want him.

So he pulls you close, the weight of your body sinking into his, the warmth of you the only thing that feels real. His hands roam your back, tracing the familiar contours of your skin, his touch a quiet apology, a promise. His fingers brush over the places he's traced an infinite number of times before.

But this time, it’s different. This time, the fear is deeper.

This time, you are different.

This moment of pain and terror has split you in two. There’s a before, when you walked the streets of New York, anonymous, just another face in the crowd. But now... there’s only the unavoidable aftermath. Now you know that there are people out there who know who you are. Who will come for you. There is no going back. You aren’t invisible anymore.

And Matt feels it.

He feels the shift in the air as you lean against him, your breathing slower, your chest rising and falling with the weight of everything. He holds you tighter, as if the tighter he holds you, the more he can keep that world outside from touching you. From ripping you apart.

You fall asleep in his arms. And he stays awake, knowing that tomorrow will bring new danger. But for tonight, he’ll hold you through it all, knowing you feel safest right here, and now.