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halosbakery · 2 days ago

Note

Megumi X femreader soft sex pretty pls? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 (Like pls make it loooooong)

𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐓𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐲

𝙈𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙢𝙞 𝙁𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Note + Warnings :

A VEERRRYYYY long fic

Confessions.

smut

Not proofread..

𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐓𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐲 - 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲

The golden rays of the current evening shone through the pristine windows of the cafeteria of Jujutsu High while it also outlined your pleasing features while you play with the small slice of matcha cake sitting on the plate in between you and your best friend, Megumi.

"Don't play with your food." He grumbled as he didn't even spare a glance at you, his body faced towards the large open windows overlooking the sparring oval, surrounded by tiered benches where other jujutsu sorcerers would be sparring or be sitting by the benches to chat.

"How do you even know what im doing? You're not even looking at me." You reply back which makes him scowl and turn his head to you. His brows were furrowed while he also had a pout on his thin lips which made you burst out into laughter which blended into the buzzing chatter of the cafeteria.

"Will you stop that!" He scolded, while hiding his flustered face in his collar. He would never admit it but he absolutely loved seeing you laugh, especially if it was because of him. He loved the way your eyes would glisten under the golden lighting, making your whole face beam while you big smile would literally lightup the whole room. Your laughter died down as you continued to eat your cake, his eyes glued on you.

"Can you hurry up and finish your food.. i wanna go back to my dorm." He complained.

"You can just go back if you want. Ill come later."

"No."

"Why?"

"I'm not letting you go to my dorm alone."

And with that, you decided to say no more and continued to eat your cake.

Soon, you both were in his dorm. You had taken a shower there now and you were currently laid on his couch, in his hoodie and your shorts while you scrolled on your phone as he was sat on the floor, playing on his PS5.

"Gumi theres a party at Yuujis place this sunday." You tell him, while shuffling around on his couch.

"I'm not going" He says sternly which makes you instantly roll your eyes.

"Why? Can you just pleaase come for this one? Everyones invited and I really want to go." You begged but it was no used.

"No." "Please?" "No." "Pleaseeee"

"Fine. I'll think about it" He says, letting out a dramatic and very annoyed sigh while his slender hands toyed with the controller, his face stuck to his tv while you were clearly distracted by his side profile. "What?" He grumbled.

"How did you know i was looking at you?" You question.

"I can see it from the corner of my eye, idiot" He'd say and huff which makes you from and kick him in the head with your bare foot.

"Don't call me that!" You whine as he dodged your attack. He just sighed and continue to play his game while you stayed content and scrolled on your phone.

At night, you were snuggled next to Megumi in his comfy and soft bed. Both of you would usually have a sleepover at his place every friday since it was clear you both enjoyed spending time together. His back was leaned against the headboard, reading a book about history while you were snuggled by his side, scrolling on your phone. Eventually, you fell asleep. He saw that and put his book on his bedside table as he took your phone out of your hands, turning it off and setting it ontop of his book whilst he pulled the blankets up higher, making sure you were warm. He then turned off the lights off and laid down with you, falling into a very deep sleep.

In the morning, you woke-up to Megumi in the kitchen cooking breakfast for the both of you. You took some time to adjust but when you were fully aware of your surroundings, you reached out to grab your phone from his bedside table just for a a hand of slender arms taking your phone away.

"Hey!" You whine, looking up at him.

"It's not good for your brain if you go on it first thing in the morning." He says, letting out a sigh. "Anyways I made us breakfast."

"Okay!" You said excitedly, sitting down at the small table. You looked down to see two slices of toast with a sunny side up, very thinly sliced bacon and some melted cheese on it while there was another small bowl of blueberries, sliced kiwi and sliced banana. "This all looks so good" You tell him as you sipped on the glass of water and started eating hungrily while he took frequent bites from his food. "So what should we do today?" You ask, averting your gaze to look at his emerald irises.

"You suggested the restaurant 15 minutes away from the dorms.." He mumbled.

"WHAT! You still remember that?" You exclaim, in complete shock which made him roll his eyes and nod. You then smile. "Oookaay! I wanna go." You tell him, cheekily stealing a slice of kiwi from him which he turned a blind eye on.

In the evening, you were both walking to the cafe in peaceful silence. The sound of the trees, distant chatter and wildife filled the silence.

"Y/N." He said, trying to start a serious conversation but it seemed like you weren't paying attention at all.

"Gumi look at this!" You call out to him, holding a butterfly. He quickly swatted a hand over it to make it fly away which made you pout.

"What?" He asked, annoyed.

"Why would you do that?"

"They're dirty.." He mumbled, or maybe he just wanted to talk to you about..

"Hurry up! The cafe is right there." You say, grabbing his large hand with your smaller one and pulling him towards the restaurant. It was just a large restaurant which was lively and had lots of different Japanese dishes. He let out a deep sigh, sitting down infront of you in the enclosed area of the restaurant.

After you had both finished your meal, you both headed back towards your dorms.

"Y/N" He says sternly which makes you look up at him. Finally. "I need to talk to you. About something" He continues to walk next to you.

"About?" You asked in a curious tone. He took in a deep breath and stopped in his tracks.

"Do you ever see us being.. more than friends?" He asked quietly. You stood beneath him and pondered the question.

"Maybe. Why?" You've honestly never thought about such questions.

"I.. just can't imagine my future as you staying as my friend." He said in a calm tone while looking down at you, towering over you.

"What?"

"I'm saying I like you, gosh!" He said, clearly annoyed. Your whole body froze. You knew you liked him too but never in your whole life had you thought you'd share feelings for eachother. There was a looong pause of silence until he spoke-up. "Y/N?" He took a step closer, whilst you wrapped your arms around him as he gently hugged you back.

"I.. like you too" You mumbled into his chest which makes him let out the smallest tiniest smile ever which you didn't endup catching a glimpse of.

"Yeah?"

You nod. He looked down as you, you looked up at him. You let out a giggle.

You decided to stay over the night, to talk about both your feelings for eachother and both your boundaries when it comes to a relationship. Eventually, you fell asleep snuggling him like usual but tonight was different. Tonight you were able to sleep because he was gently stroking your hair which instantly led you to fall into a heavy sleep.

In the morning, you felt a large thumb gently rubbing your cheek. You opened your eyes to stare up at Megumi as he looked down at you, sharing a silent moment together while he continued to gently rub your cheek.

"Party today" You remind him which makes him groan. You giggle and roll around to reach for your phone just for him to grab you by the waist gently and put you down. "Hey!" You say.

"You already know the rules. No phones right when you wakeup." He says with his deep raspy voice.

"You sound like my mum." You tell him, he gives you an eye roll.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, receiving a nod from you. He quickly gets up to make breakfast for the both of you. You follow him into the kitchen to spectate and eventually, you both were munching away. He had his eyes locked on you while you talked about whatever.

At night, Megumi let you shower at his place again so you both could get ready for the party together. When you had finished and blow dried your hair completely, you realised something was missing. Your dress for the party! You quickly wrapped yourself in your towel as you walked out to look for your dress.

"Gumi have you seem my dress? The one for the party." You looked up at him.

"This one?" He held up your black dress. You nodded to try and grab it but he held it out of your reach which made you frown. "Who said i let you wear this?" He asked annoyedly.

"What? I can wear what I want." You said. He huffed and put your dress aside.

"Come here." He gestured you to come closer. You walked up to him and he wrapped his arms around you.

"I'm not letting other people see you.. like that." He mumbles while taking off the towel you were wrapped in which made you flustered. He gently picks you up and places you on his soft and clean bed. "Are you okay with this?" He asks gently, looking down at you.

"Yeah but.. what about the party?" You asked.

"We're not going." He'd say as he took off his hoodie, revealing his toned abs and large biceps.

He leaned down and tucked your hair behind your ears as he kissed your forehead.

"You're so beautiful" He whispers while a large hand run up your thigh then rested on your waist, gently rubbing it while he looked down at your smooth body. He looked at your face to see you at peace. You weren't showing any signs of being uncomfortable so he decided to take a step further. His hand moved higher up, a part of his thumb gently brushing against the side of your breast, feeling how soft it is. His hands gently cupped your breasts and very slowly massaged them.

"You're so soft baby." He mumbled. You nodded in response as you felt his thumb gently circle around your nipples. He then rub his thumb over your nipple which instantly hardened it. "Sensitive?" He teased which made you blush. His thumbs pressed down on your nipples teasingly as if they were buttons. You felt tingles trail through your body. You then felt his tongue suck on your left breast which made you gasp and instinctively bring your hand to his hair to grip onto it whilst he continued to suck. He eventually started to circle his tongue around your nipple, and teasingly flick it with his tongue until he lifted his head, releasing your breast with a small 'Pop!' sound. He looked down at you, then gently kissed you, exploring your mouth. You suddenly felt a hand go dangerously near your core until it rested on your inner thigh, gently massaging it while he kissed you lovingly. You were so into the kiss you didn't even realise his hand was starting to gently trace along your core until.. his thumb pressed against your clit which made you gasp. You quickly broke the kiss to look down and saw his thumb gently letting go of your clit, just to press down on it.

"Whats wrong?" He asked, tucking your stray hair behind your ears. Your hand clenched onto the blankets when you felt him flick your clit as you let out a soft moan. He smirked, deciding to massage your breast slowly while his other hand gently traced your core.

"You're already so wet." He says, leaning down to look at your core. With two fingers he spread the puffy folds apart, as he inspected it and then let go, closing the shut. He then opened them again, just to let go teasingly.

"Guumiii.." You whined as he chucked deeply.

"Needy?" He asked as he gently slipped a finger in.

"Ah~!" You moan, spreading your legs open. He kept his finger still, not moving it as your hips started bucking, trying to feel something but his other hand gripped onto your hips.

"No. Stay still." He says, while he slowly takes his hands out which makes you whine but he quickly dug them back into your cunt again. The grip on the blankets tighten as you giggle. He eventually started moving his hand, gently slipping his finger in and out slowly. Enough to please you but not enough to bring you to a release. Eventually, he added another finger in, gently moving his fingers in and out. After some time, he took his hands out, licking his fingers clean while looking at you, then at your cunt. He lowered himself as he started sucking on your core, slowly circling his tongue around you clit while your hands gripped his spiky messy hair all while you'd let out soft moans.

"Are you okay?" He'd say softly, while pausing to look up at you. You'd nod so he'd continue his ministrations. After a while, you heard him takeoff his pants.. then boxers until you saw his long veiny cock in an angry red dripping with pre cum.

"Can i put it in..?" He asked quietly. You nodded. He gently aligned the mushroom of his tip against your cunt, then slowly went in. You quickly squeezed your eyes shut, gripping onto the blankets tightly as you could feel tears pricking the back of your eyes.

"Shit, you're tight.. Is this your first time?" He spoke up. You nodded and his gaze softened. He tried to be more gentle, massaging the sides of your thigh until he was half-way in. "Almost there" He reassured, trying his best to slow down. You opened your eyes to find your vision blurry, your cheeks flowing with tears. He saw this and gasped, quickly pulling out.

"Hey.. are you okay..?" He quickly cupped your cheeks. You nodded while he wiped your tears away.

"Y-You can keep going.." You mumble.

"Are you sure?"

You nod. He nodded too, then slipping himself in slowly as his hand held your smaller one, his thumb rubbing your palm. Over time, he was completely inside you. He didn't move, wanting you to get used to it until your hands let go of the blankets and your body wasn't so stiff. He slowly started moving against your tight gummy walls while groaning. He gently went in and out softly while he watched you squirm under him. He moved his finger to gently run his thumb over your clit, gently flicking it, making you moan. Slowly, he picked up his pace, knowing he had hit your g spot since your moans were more frequent and louder.

Eventually, you hit your climax. He watched you come undone beneath him, while he came in you. He let out a whimper, then pulling out, needing to rest for a bit.

He then got up and went to the bathroom, coming back with a small damp towel, gently patting your core and cleaning you up.

"Do you want to take a bath?" He'd ask gently. You shook your head and he nodded. He went to the bathroom to give himself a rinse then came out to see you wrapped in his blankets like a sushi. He chuckled to himself, walking over to you.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, earning a nod from you. He quickly got up to make something for you. He came back with a glass of chocolate milk and a wrap, with lettuce, corn and fried chicken. You unwrapped yourself to eat. Megumi sat beside you, eating a wrap himself.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Alright.. a bit tired." You responded. He nodded.

When the both of you had finished eating, he quickly washed the dishes then snuggled in bed with you, cuddling you.

"Gumi?" You look up at him. He looked down and hummed in response. "Can i get a kiss?" You asked. His face instantly turned red as he avoided eye contact. "What! Just kiss me. It's not that hard" You say, teasingly.

"Easy for you to say.. you're so bold.." He responds which makes you giggle. Eventually, you fell asleep in his arms. He looked down at your face, the moonlight outlining your features. He gently kissed you forehead and whispered.

"Goodnight, idiot"

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edb954 · 3 days ago

Text

Our Dirty Little Secret (Coriolanus Snow x Cardew! Reader)

(Summary: Livia thinks Coriolanus is after her oh how wrong she is when you Livias sister is the one he wants (quite literally) )

Word Count: 550

Masterlist : Request Info

(A/n: Heavily based off of the one episode in gossip girl with Blair & Chuck)

(Warnings: Nsfw, Livia being annoying, typical snow)

~~~

"Y/n!!!" The aggravating voice of your sister yelled as she threw open the door to your bedroom and went over to your closet.

"Where is my red dress? Do you have it?" She said as she rummaged through your closet.

"Why would I have it and besides in case you forgot which clearly you have." She came out sending you a strange look. "You had it taken to the dry cleaners. What do you need it for anyways?"

"Oh.. right.." Livia said her face flushing from embarrassment for forgetting. She shock it off quickly. "I need it for tonight it's a party after all and I'm wearing it for Coriolanus obviously." She said snarkly.

"Do I wish it was someone else? Absolutely but as long as I am First Lady why should I care?" She said smirking as she readjusted her lip stick with one of yours. You roll your eyes at her little comments.

"Obviously.. now can you please get out?" You replied annoyed. She gave a little 'hm' before throwing the lips stick at you which you luckily caught.

She slammed the door closed as she left. Letting out a loud sigh of relief as the comforter lifted up revealing Coriolanus. His hair a mess and lips glistening.

"We can't keep doing this.." Y/n said as she moved away but Coriolanus grabbed her and pulled her back into place as she let out a gasp of surprise.

"I don't give a damn if she catches us or about her." He muttered darkly. Y/n looked at him in slight shock but not that surprised.

"Besides my meal isn't finished yet.." He proceeded as he gave her a smirk making her flush and a gasp leaving her lips as he placed a kiss on her hard breast.

"Be quiet..." He said as he lowered himself back down to her awaiting lips. Her eyes rolled back as he reconnected placing a hand over her mouth to muffle her moans.

This had been going on for months now ever since you both actually got to know each other without Livia coming in and interrupting or pulling you away with some excuse. It was only until a few weeks ago when you became a thing at a party hosted by your parents.

You found yourselves confessing to each other the attraction neither of you surprised and next thing she knew is her back up against the one lounge room door that was far from the party dress hiked up , legs parted and Coriolanus in between them. It had became an almost daily thing whether it was in your bedroom at the risk of being caught or at his penthouse.

Y/ns fear is being caught whether by your sister or parents. Not that her parents ever cared what she was doing to busy doting after their favorite Livia. Which in this case she should be thankful for especially when she has the man that they're trying to set up with Livia in between your legs devouring you. And doing other private affairs behind closed doors.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #fluff #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow fluff #obsessive love #possessive #livia cardew #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg series #secret relationships #secret

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 hour ago

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Mark Zuckerberg personally lost the Facebook antitrust case

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me at NEW ZEALAND'S UNITY BOOKS in AUCKLAND on May 2, and in WELLINGTON on May 3. More tour dates (Pittsburgh, PDX, London, Manchester) here.

It's damned hard to prove an antitrust case: so often, the prosecution has to prove that the company intended to crush competition, and/or that they raised prices or reduced quality because they knew they didn't have to fear competitors.

It's a lot easier to prove what a corporation did than it is to prove why they did it. What am I, a mind-reader? But imagine for a second that the corporation in the dock is a global multinational. Now, imagine that the majority of the voting shares in that company are held by one man, who has served as the company's CEO since the day he founded it, personally calling every important shot in the company's history.

Now imagine that this founder/CEO, this accused monopolist, was an incorrigible blabbermouth, who communicated with his underlings almost exclusively in writing, and thus did he commit to immortal digital storage a stream – a torrent – of memos in which he explicitly confessed his guilt.

Ladies and gentlepersons, I give you Mark Zuckerberg, founder and CEO of Meta (nee Facebook), an accused monopolist who cannot keep his big dumb fucking mouth shut.

At long, long last, the FTC's antitrust trial against Meta is underway, and this week, Zuck himself took the stand, in agonizing sessions during which FTC lawyers brandished printouts of Zuck's own words before him, asking him to explain away his naked confessions of guilt. It did not go well for Zuck.

In a breakdown of the case for The American Prospect, editor-in-chief David Dayen opines that "The Government Has Already Won the Meta Case," having hanged Zuck on his own words:

https://prospect.org/power/2025-04-16-government-already-won-meta-case-tiktok-ftc-zuckerberg/

The government is attempting to prove that Zuck bought Instagram and Whatsapp in order to extinguish competitors (and not, for example, because he thought they were good businesses that complemented Facebook's core product offerings).

This case starts by proving how Zuck felt about Insta and WA before the acquisitions. On Insta, Zuck circulated memos warning about Insta's growth trajectory:

they appear to be reaching critical mass as a place you go to share photos

and how that could turn them into a future competitor:

[Instagram could] copy what we’re doing now … I view this as a big strategic risk for us if we don’t completely own the photos space.

These are not the words of a CEO who thinks another company is making a business that complements his own – they're confessions that he is worried that they will compete with Facebook. Facebook tried to clone Insta (Remember Facebook Camera? Don't feel bad – neither does anyone else). When that failed, Zuck emailed Facebook execs, writing:

[Instagram's growth is] really scary and why we might want to consider paying a lot of money for this.

At this point, Zuck's CFO – one of the adults in the room, attempting to keep the boy king from tripping over his own dick – wrote to Zuck warning him that it was illegal to buy Insta in order to "neutralize a potential competitor."

Zuck replied that he was, indeed, solely contemplating buying Insta in order to neutralize a potential competitor. It's like this guy kept picking up his dictaphone, hitting "record," and barking, "Hey Bob, I am in receipt of your memo of the 25th, regarding the potential killing of Fred. You raise some interesting points, but I wanted to reiterate that this killing is to be a murder, and it must be as premeditated as possible. Yours very truly, Zuck."

Did Zuck buy Insta to neutralize a competitor? Sure seems like it! For one thing, Zuck cancelled all work on Facebook Camera "since we're acquiring Instagram."

But what about after the purchase. Did Zuck reduce quality and/or raise costs? Well, according to the company, it enacted an "explicit policy of not prioritizing Instagram’s growth" (a tactic called "buy or bury"). At this juncture, Zuckerberg once again put fingers to keyboard in order to create an immortal record of his intentions:

By not killing their products we prevent everyone from hating us and we make sure we don’t immediately create a hole in the market for someone else to fill.

And if someone did enter the market with a cool new gimmick (like, say, Snapchat with its disappearing messages)?

Even if some new competitors spring up, if we incorporate the social mechanics they were using, these new products won’t get much traction since we’ll already have their mechanics deployed at scale.

Remember, the Insta acquisition is only illegal if Zuck bought them to prevent competition in the marketplace (rather than, say, to make a better product). It's hard to prove why a company does anything, unless its CEO, founder, and holder of the majority of its voting stock explicitly states that his strategy is to create a system to ensure that innovating new products "won't get much traction" because he'll be able to quickly copy them.

So we have Zuck starving Insta of development except when he needs to neutralize a competitor, which is just another way of saying he set out to reduce the quality of the product after acquisition, a thing that is statutorily prohibited, but hard to prove (again, unless you confess to it in writing, herp derp).

But what about prices? Well, obviously, Insta doesn't charge its end-users in cash, but they do charge in attention. If you want to see the things you've explicitly asked for – posts from accounts you follow – you have to tolerate a certain amount of "boosted content" and ads, that is, stuff that Facebook's business customers will pay to nonconsensually cram into your eyeballs.

Did that price go up? Any Insta user knows the answer: hell yes. Instagram is such a cesspit of boosted content and ads that it's almost impossible to find stuff you actually asked to see. Indeed, when a couple of teenagers hacked together an alternative Insta client called OG App that only showed you posts from accounts you followed, it was instantly the most popular app on Google Play and Apple's App Store (and then Google and Apple killed it, at Meta's request):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

But why did the price go up? Did it go up because Facebook had neutralized a competitor by purchasing it, and thus felt that it could raise prices without losing customers? Again, a hard thing to prove…unless Zuck happened to put it in writing. Which he did, as Brendan Benedict explains in Big Tech On Trial:

I think we’re badly mismanaging this right now. There’s absolutely no reason why IG ad load should be lower than FB at a time when . . . we’re having engagement issues in FB. If we were managing our company correctly, then at a minimum we’d immediately balance IG and FB ad load . . . But it’s possible we should even have a higher ad load on IG while we have this challenge so we can replace some ads with [People You May Know] on FB to turn around the issues we’re seeing.

https://www.bigtechontrial.com/p/zuckerberg-v-zuckerberg-will-the

So there you have it: Zuck bought Insta to neutralize a competitor, and after he did, he lowered its quality and raised its prices, because he knew that he was operating without significant competitors thanks to his acquisition of that key competitor. Zuck's motivations – as explained by Zuck himself – were in direct contravention of antitrust law, a thing he knew (because his execs explained it to him). That's a pretty good case.

But what about Whatsapp? How did Zuck feel about it? Well, he told his board that Whatsapp was Facebook's greatest "consumer risk," fretting that "Messenger isn’t beating WhatsApp." He blocked Whatsapp ads on Facebook, telling his team that it was "trying to build social networks and replace us." Sure, they'd lose money by turning away that business, but the "revenue is immaterial to us compared to any risk." Sure seems like Zuck saw Whatsapp as a competitor.

Meta's final line of defense in this case is that even if they did some crummy, illegal things, they still didn't manage to put together a monopoly. According to Meta's lawyers – who're billing the company more than $1m/day! – Meta is a tiny fish in a vast ocean that has many competitors, like Tiktok:

https://www.levernews.com/mr-zuckerbergs-very-expensive-day-in-court/

There's only one problem with this "market definition" argument, and that problem's name is Chatty Mark Zuckerberg. On the question of market definition, FTC lawyers once again raised Zuckerberg's own statements and those of his top lieutenants to show that Zuckerberg viewed his companies as "Personal Social Networks" (PSNs) and not as just generic sites full of stuff, competing with Youtube, Tiktok, and everyone else who lets users post things to the internet.

Take Instagram boss Adam Mosseri, who explained that:

Instagram will always need to focus on friends and can never exclusively be for public figures or will cease to be a social product.

And then there was Zuck's memo explaining why he offered $6b for Snapchat:

Snap Stories serves the exact same use case of sharing and consuming feeds of content that News Feed and Instagram deliver. We need to take this new dynamic seriously—both as a competitive risk and as a product opportunity to add functionality that many people clearly love and want to use daily.

And an internal strategy document that explained the competitive risks to Facebook:

Social networks have two stable equilibria: either everyone uses them, or no-one uses them. In contrast, nonsocial apps (e.g. weather apps, exercise apps) can exist [somewhere] along a continuum of adoption. The binary nature of social networks implies that there should exist a tipping point, ie some critical mass of adoption, above which a network will organically grow, and below which it will shrink.

Sure sounds like Facebook sees itself as a "social network," and not a "nonsocial app." And of course – as Dayen points out – when Tiktok (a company Meta claims as a competitor) went up for sale, Meta did not enter a bid, despite being awash in free cash flow.

In Zuckerberg's defense, he's not the only tech CEO who confesses his guilt in writing (recall that FTX planned its crimes in a groupchat called WIREFRAUD). Partly that's because these firms are run by arrogant twits, but partly it's because digital culture is a written culture, where big, dispersed teams expected to work long hours from offices all over the world as well as from their phones every hour of day and night have to rely on memos to coordinate:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

When Dayen claims that "the government has won the Meta case," he doesn't mean the judge will rule in the FTC's favor (though there's a high likelihood that this will happen). Rather, he means that the case has been proven beyond any kind of reasonable doubt, in public, in a way that has historically caused other monopolists to lose their nerve, even if they won their cases. Take Microsoft and IBM – though both companies managed to draw out their cases until a new Republican administration (Reagan for IBM, GWB for Microsoft) took office and let them off the hook, both companies were profoundly transformed by the process.

IBM created the market for a generic, multivendor PC whose OS came from outside the company:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/08/ibm-pc-compatible-how-adversarial-interoperability-saved-pcs-monopolization

And Microsoft spared Google the same treatment it had meted out to Netscape, allowing the company to grow and thrive:

https://apnews.com/article/google-apple-microsoft-antitrust-technology-cases-1e0c510088825745a6e74ba3b81b44c6

Trump being Trump, it's not inconceivable that he will attempt to intervene to get the judge to exonerate Meta. After all, Zuck did pay him a $1m bribe and then beg him to do just that:

https://gizmodo.com/zuckerberg-really-thought-trump-would-make-metas-legal-problems-go-away-2000589897

But as Dayen writes, the ire against Meta's monopolistic conduct is thoroughly bipartisan, and if Trump was being strategic here (a very, very big "if"), he would keep his powder dry here. After all, if the judge doesn't convict Meta, Trump won't have wasted any political capital. And if Meta is convicted, Trump could solicit more bribes and favors at the "remedy" stage, when a court will decide how to punish Meta, which could be anything from a fine to a breakup order, to a nothingburger of vague orders to clean up its act.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/04/18/chatty-zucky/#is-you-taking-notes-on-a-criminal-fucking-conspiracy

#pluralistic #zuck #mark zuckerberg #antitrust #trustbusting #self-incriminating #facebook #meta #trumpism #boss politics #boss politics antitrust #david dayen #petard

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mothhball · 2 days ago

Note

Raymond Leon

Vodka

Melon

Tabasco sauce to Cranberry Juice (🧍‍♀️)

Cocktail onions (I think the only way he can die is ran out of time idk?)

thanks!!

Occupational Hazard

Raymond Leon x fem Reader

summary short fic + smut + angry sex to confessing feelings + ❛ you? kill me? that's funny. ❜

warnings SMUT!!! semi-clothed sex, sex on top of a car lmao, handcuffed Reader, one (1) spank, Ray is worried and that pisses him off, unprotected PiV sex, cursing, light choking, a little bit of a condescending attitude towards Reader

notes i- i meant to write like 500 words, but this got out of HAND and I'm terribly sorry for taking so long. :( i'm still working through all the requests!!!! they WILL get done!!! also I haven't written smut in a hot minute, so 🫠

! MINORS DNI !

event masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 2.6k

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you spat as soon as you were released from the interior of Raymond’s car which had been your metal prison for the past 45 minutes.

45 agonizingly slow minutes during which he didn’t say a single word to you. No explanations as to why he suddenly showed up to pick a fight and arrest you, no apology for slamming you onto the hood of his First Gen Dodge Challenger in front of the people you were supposed to blend in with. You never expected much from him to begin with, but this had been a new low.

You were supposed to be coworkers, for fuck’s sake.

Now, he had parked both of you in the middle of nowhere, almost making you think that he did it so you could finally curse at him at full volume.

“I’m gonna kill you, Leon, I swear –”

“You? Kill me? That's funny.”

His first sentence in almost an hour, and you were already fuming. Maybe you really were going to do it. Your grumbling was cut short when he got out of the car and stepped around to the back seat to pull you along with him. Back to the hood it was, this time face up so you could properly glare at him.

“You’re off the case,” he said, staring down at you with a storm raging behind his eyes. There was a tension in his shoulders, one that he usually lacked. Even in stressful situations, he usually had everything under strict control, including himself. But right now, his jaw was tight. You, on the other hand, were an open book compared to him.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you hissed. “I just gained their trust! A few more weeks and they’d tell me the location of the stolen time capsules!”

A scoff was your only reply, prompting you to aim a kick at Raymond’s shoulder. Which, to your surprise, he seemed to have been anticipating. His fingers closed around your ankle, hiking your leg up along with it while he planted his other hand on the hood of the car — effectively caging you in.

Suddenly, he was close. So close that you could catch a whiff of his delicious cologne, and he only leaned in further.

“You won’t be going back to those thieves,” he murmured, his breath brushing against your hairline which caused an exquisite shiver to run down the length of your spine. “You’re not tough enough to be undercover for this long.”

You bristled, tongue swiping over your teeth as you met his challenge head-on.

“Then take off the handcuffs and I’ll show you just how feisty I really am.”

Raymond’s brow twitched upwards and his grip tightened around your ankle. He almost took the bait. Almost let himself be drawn in and scorched whole by the fire in your eyes. But this was his game and you’d play by his rules. At least for now.

“I don’t think I will.”

His free hand wandered over to your waist, pulling you up a little higher to let you rest more comfortably on the car. Well, as comfortable as you could be with your hands linked together behind your back.

Looming over you, his touch trailed up your stomach and came to rest on your cheek, palm cupping your burning skin.

“In fact, I think this is for your own good,” he said, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip as his gaze met yours again. “Trust me, I’ve seen enough of your type. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed until they show up with a bullet between their pretty eyes.”

The proximity between your bodies felt electric, stealing the breath from your lungs as you tried to concentrate on his words and not the feeling of him nudging his hips against yours ever so slightly.

“You haven’t seen all of me yet,” you replied, and his eyes narrowed as his lips pulled up into a smile.

“Fair point.”

Raymond leaned back, flicking his fingers against the zipper of your jacket before he slowly pulled it down. Letting the garment fall open, he trailed his fingertips down your sternum, and even though there was a layer of fabric separating skin from skin, you could feel the sparks he left behind on your flesh. Sparks that traveled lower along with his hand until they settled in the pit of your body like burning coals.

As he grasped the hem of your shirt, he paused to look back up at your face, and you were confused for a moment before it clicked. He was asking for permission. You didn’t need to think much about it.

Parting your legs a little more, you silently allowed him to go further. And he did.

Raymond was on you in the next second, capturing your lips in a heated, feverish kiss that bordered on furious. Something deeper was bothering him, and he expressed it through his tongue and teeth, mapping out your mouth and luring sweet little sighs and moans from your throat. He kissed you like he only had minutes left on his clock, like he was trying to savor every second of your lush body beneath his own.

Pulling back only to yank up your shirt, Ray cursed under his breath at the sight of your pretty tits almost spilling out of the bra you wore. It was strange to see him lose his composure like that, especially since said piece was nothing to write home about. You opted for comfort and functionality during your time undercover, so a ratty sports bra had to do. The glint in his eyes and the way he white-knuckled the fabric as he pulled it up said enough about his level of enthusiasm, however.

As soon as your boobs were free, Raymond bent over you to lick and nip at your soft skin while his hands eagerly tugged off your sweatpants to finally get to your pussy. Groaning in approval at the wetness between your thighs, he trailed his fingers up your slit, slicking them up before he sank two of them into you.

Your moan trailed off into a squeak as he immediately set a quick pace, aiming to prep you as quickly as possible to grant both of you the relief you so desperately needed. You arched beneath him, cuffed hands curling into fists in search of something to hold on to while he worked his fingers in and out of your dripping core.

Fuck, you could hear how much you needed him, and he could too, visibly reveling in the effect he had on you. Raymond’s brows were furrowed, his pupils blown out as he stared down at you, watching every twitch in your expression with a keen laser focus to find all of your weak points.

And he was a fast learner.

A gasp hitched in your throat as his fingers scoped out that deliciously sweet spot that had your face twisting with pleasure.

“Right there?” he scoffed against your skin, pulling out of your pussy.

Your attempted protest was cut short when he pressed his wet fingers down on your tongue, making you taste yourself as he unzipped his pants to free his already leaking cock. How he could keep the tremble out of his voice while in this state was beyond you.

Feeling testy and impatient, you lightly bit down on his fingers, earning yourself a swift spank to your cunt. Your muffled moan vibrated against his fingers in your mouth, and he used his grip on your head to keep you still.

“Behave,” he groaned, already grinding his length against you to lube himself up. “Behave and look at me.”

The ache melted away with every inch of his cock that he shoved into your cunt, and the growl that slipped past his clenched teeth ran across your heated skin like silk. Slipping his fingers free from between your lips, Raymond wrapped his hand around your throat instead, feeling the thump of your pulse against his palm as your eyes met his again.

Once he bottomed out inside of you, the two of you shared a sigh of relief, and Raymond’s other hand settled on your hip to pull you closer against him. It was already hard to concentrate on your end. Not only was this man pretty and way too smug, his dick was perfect as well.

“Not so feisty now, are you?” His chuckle made you frown, and you grit your teeth, wrapping your leg around his hip to kick the back of his knee with the heel of your foot. Stumbling forward, he caught himself on top of you, his cock still buried inside of you.

“Fuck you,” you spat, delighted by the way his nostrils flared and his fingers twitched around your neck.

“Gladly.”

The first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. Immediately, you could tell that you bit off way more than you could chew. Raymond’s pace was relentless, fueled by the needy moans and mindless babble he fucked out of you every time he slammed his cock back into your weeping cunt. His hips collided with yours again and again, sending the impact through your entire body as his fingers sank into the plush flesh of your hip.

His hand around your neck also didn’t relent, occasionally tightening its grip to reduce the flow of blood to your brain. You felt like you were floating, helplessly bouncing under him as he fucked into you.

“That’s it, huh? Look at you,” he growled low in his throat, tipping his head back as his eyes fell shut. “You’re helpless like this. Already fucked stupid and we barely even started—”

Even with heavy, half-lidded eyes, you could see the grimace that suddenly settled on his face, and his thrusts became even rougher. He was absolutely livid all of a sudden, and you were pretty sure it wasn’t your fault this time.

“Raymond— Wait, fuck— Ray!” you gasped, trying to get your braincells to cooperate with one another. A tearless sob shot out from between your lips as he picked up your legs to fold them towards your chest instead, and your mind blanked for a few delicious seconds as he hit even deeper.

“Helpless. A target. A bleeding-hearted rookie,” he continued, his frown deepening. “They’ll eat you alive and spit you back out once they’re done with you.”

His choking grip tightened, and you let out a breathless squeal as the tension in your core wound tighter and tighter and—

His hips suddenly stilled against yours as he released your throat, and you whined at the loss off the exquisite friction that almost dragged you over the edge just seconds ago. About to complain, you opened your mouth, only for the words to die on your tongue when you saw Raymond’s expression. Blown out pupils, messy hair, but his eyes were softer than anything you’ve ever seen from him. For the first time, the high and mighty Raymond Leon looked truly hapless.

“I want you off the streets. Immediately.”

His voice was breathy, labored from fucking you and the maelstrom of emotions clashing within him.

You could only blink up at him, confused and a little suspicious at his sudden switch. Raymond sighed, lowering himself to gently press his forehead against yours. As you both stayed quiet and started to catch your breath again, he traced gentle circles into your hip with his thumb. After a heavy moment of silence, he attempted to speak up.

“It’s too dangerous. What if you –“ He swallowed hard, cutting himself off and abandoning this first attempt.

“What if I..?” you softly urged, afraid that speaking too loudly might’ve shattered this fragile bubble of vulnerability that he was allowing himself to exist in.

“I can’t lose you.”

“Lose me?”

He sighed, turning his head away to stare off into the distance. Alright, keep your secrets, then.

But then, he forced himself to elaborate.

“You’re the only one who can keep up with me,” he admitted, still refusing to look at you. “You’re the only one who’s not just a badge or a file on my desk.”

Oh. Ohh. That certainly explained it.

“Ray,” you started, silently cursing the fact that your hands were still cuffed because you wanted to reach out to him, to touch him and pull him out of his worries. “You’re not going to lose me. I know what I’m doing.”

“You might. But the others don’t.”

He groaned and the muscles in his jaw tensed as he clenched his teeth.

“You might get into a shootout or a car crash because one of those criminals,” he huffed, his grip tightening on your hip once more. “Or the group you’re scoping out suddenly gets into trouble with another. There are too many risks and very few rewards. We’re only looking for a few missing years, after all.”

“Ray,” you said, but he was still ranting about it. “Hey, Raymond.”

Still nothing. Change of strategy.

Lifting your hips, you began to move against him, fucking yourself on his cock in an effort to coax him closer again. And it worked. Like a magnet, he was drawn to you, meeting your eyes once more and softening at the sight of you. With a sigh, he leaned over you, wrapping his arms around your body to hold you close and keep the pressure off your hands.

“Trust me,” you breathed against his lips. “Please, trust me, Ray.”

“I do,” he promised, stealing another kiss from you that lit your insides on fire. He was softer this time, less frantic and hurried as he held you with a reverence you’ve never seen from him before. This was him beneath the coat and badge. The Raymond beneath the Timekeeper title.

With his lips still moving against yours, his hips picked up in rhythm again, working together with you to get you back up to the edge you craved. His tongue licked against yours, exploring playfully until the lack of oxygen caused you to flutter and clench around him, and he pulled back to kiss and bite up your throat.

“There you go. Take what you need,” he murmured into your ear, pressing one of his hands between both your bodies to draw circles around your clit. The noise that you made in response had him gritting his teeth in an attempt to reign himself in.

“Ray,” you gasped, and he nodded in response, feeling it to. How beautifully you shuddered, how your thighs around his hips urged him to go faster, harder.

“Let go. I’ve got you.”

And those were the magic words. With another press of his thumb against your clit, you came undone for him, unraveling under the warm wave of a blissful climax. Raymond cursed and groaned under his breath, fucking you through your peak until he felt [] He pulled out of you, frantically thrusting into his fist until he spilled his cum between your thighs and over the sleek black paintjob of his vehicle. Oh, well.

Panting, he released your legs, to dig a set of keys out of the pocket of his coat, and he helped you to sit up so he could finally free you again. With a careless motion, he tossed the cuffs aside and pulled you close, kissing your hairline before he took your hands in his.

For a blissful moment, neither of you spoke. Even though he didn’t outright say anything about the fundamental shift in the dynamic between you, his actions and the look in his eyes were proof enough.

“I’ll get you a nice desk job at the agency,” he murmured, gently massaging your wrists to get the circulation back.

“Ray—" you groaned, definitely not excited at the thought of sitting around all day, but as you turned your head away, he gently nudged your chin to bring your gaze back to his face.

“And a nice raise.”

“… I’m listening.”

#cillian murphy x reader #raymond leon x reader #in time #cillian murphy #x reader #.moth writes #mothh500

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moonlight-prose · 23 hours ago

Note

Saw that you reblogged these sentences and said you would take them for Joel and I just had to slide in here. Wanted to give you a few options of things I saw were interesting from both parts of the list. Hopefully one of the sentences inspires you and feel free to ignore if they don’t lol. Thank you for considering at all!

You deserve better than what you’ve got. - Or - You’re lucky you got away with a scratch.

How do you make the pain go away? - Or - Can you look at me, please?

alone and forsaken

a/n: forgive me for the late late late response to this old request. i kept it cause i knew the joel inspo would eventually hit me again one day and well the time has come. one episode into s2 and i'm already back in the pit for this man. i chose two out of the four you sent and i think it's become quite a beautiful angsty story. this is with a joel that takes place pre season one but not by much. i hope you enjoy darling!

summary: trapped in a house barely held together at the seams you and joel find yourselves thinking about the past, the future, and what led to this point in time.

word count: 1.3k+

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: not explicit, angst yet again because i can't be stopped, grief + ptsd, conversations about death, love confessions, philosophical talks about humanity, hope.

The world was silent.

Nature's song once existed in a bountiful harmony—filling the once warm spring air with echoes of a winter come and gone. You could remember the days where flowers bloomed without a care in the world and animals began to wander out of their safe environments. Deer were a common sighting in your hometown; more than humanity could possibly think up.

Now everything resembled a bleak afterthought. Barren of humans, empty of what once thrived in places as small as this.

You supposed it was only time that nature grew weary of the toxic tendencies of humanity. Where she offered life, they handed over decay. An endless cycle of take that wound up eating itself on the final page.

Humanity was the illness spread upon this earth. A threat to the existence of peace. Nature merely found a cure.

"This is all I could find," he mumbled, handing you an open can of cold beans.

You grimaced, but knew that finding anything better might leave the both of you searching for hours more. If that happened then starvation would be the only real winner in this all out war. And you weren't about to go down swinging against something that lethal. So you took the can with a tight lipped smile, shoveling a mouthful into you in the hopes it might turn into something tastier.

"How long until we're out of here," you muttered around the food.

Joel grinned—eyes dull and darkened by fatigue. "Day or two. Till the storm lets up some."

Rain pounded against the brittle roof of this old fucking house. You were almost certain it would give in eventually—collapse right over your bodies. Maybe it should have. Maybe you and Joel would be better off if the house were the one to decide your fates—nature of course playing her part.

At least that way you wouldn't have to worry about turning into one of them.

Even in the safety of this one story home you could hear the screech of something inhuman; the cure to nature's ailment named humanity. They were agitated by the storm. Angry they couldn't find people as easy as before, and they made themselves known.

You began to wonder if you would ever get used to their existence. That one day might pass where you finally came to a place of acceptance. Yet the thought alone was harder to swallow than the shitty food you currently fought to keep down.

More often than not you found yourself wondering if they felt pain the way you or Joel did—your mind playing tricks of guilt and empathy for creatures too far gone from the touch of humanity. Did they understand the concept of loneliness? Trapped within their own minds as the fungus wreaked havoc on their bodies. Or were they soulless? Lifeless.

There were days you pondered the same about yourself—too afraid to breach that locked door in your mind. The one that held whispers of darkness far greater than you could handle. Nightmares you did your best to put out, raging against a cracked and broken amount of hope.

"Do you ever think about what they feel?" The leak in the center of the house splattered muddy water along your hand. A cold chill traveled up nerves you believed were already shot years prior.

Joel's answer was unromantic—monotone. "They're dead."

"But are they really?"

He cleared his throat, setting the can down on the floor beside his gun. "If they aren't. They probably wish they were."

"To be locked in your own body and not have the ability to control it." Your teeth dug into your lip, biting down hard enough to split the skin. "I'd never wish that on anyone."

“I think we’re past wishin’ for things.”

He had a point. As much as you didn’t like what it meant, you understood the callous sentiment born from years of anger. This was the way of things now. A reality perfumed with the scent of rotting flesh and marred by vines of cordyceps that ravaged whatever breathed and spoke. Humanity was buried in a shallow grave. Cities leveled, homes left behind like old photographs someone might one day happen upon.

In the months of traveling with Joel you came to understand what exactly the world lost. You used to be a cynic, entirely submersed in the belief that humans were the first step in destruction—a generation that held nothing but contempt for all that came before. Until the world’s slate was wiped clean. And love, empathy, hope disappeared from the very map of a world you could no longer recognize.

“My friend used to host a barbecue every summer,” you said, watching the rain through the shattered window.

“That right?”

Nodding, you forced yourself to swallow another mouthful of beans. “They couldn’t cook for shit. Barely even liked their apartment being used for parties, but they were the only one that managed to get their own place.” You could practically smell the charred burgers, cold beers and haphazardly made margaritas melting in the east coast heat. “We were at the very last one of the year when the outbreak happened.”

Joel’s spine went rigid, silence swallowing even the pattering echo of rainfall. The chaos and horror isn’t what you remembered the most of that night. No, you pushed those memories down years ago—fearful that they might succeed in driving you mad. You recalled the laughter. The soft strum of a friend’s guitar and rasp of his voice as he sang beneath whatever stars you could catch glimpses of. You could picture their bodies lounging on chairs, lips twisted into smiles that burned you from the inside.

They were happy before it happened. Lost in the bliss of a found family.

“You deserve better than what you’ve got,” he muttered, discarding his can to the side.

His words jarred you, stomach twisting as he mourned your life despite never knowing your friends. But that was the thing about Joel Miller. He had a family too. He once had friends, a life he’d return to in an instant if given the chance. Neither of you would choose the other if you met any other way; too immersed in what you had to wonder what could have been.

But you wanted him in this life. You gave up surviving alone before he came into your life—intent on greeting death with open arms and hearing that laughter one final time.

“Joel.” Nudging him with your foot you finally caught a glimpse at those brown bloodshot eyes you’d grown to admire. They were glossed over with the exhaustion of going days without sleep, each of you fighting to find a space you could rest for some time. Yet their beauty never failed to leave you breathless. “You are exactly what I deserve in this life. You saved me.”

“You saved yourself darlin’.”

“No I didn’t.” He sighed, watching the rain splatter along mud coated wood floors. “I just got lucky at the right fuckin’ time.”

“Can you look at me, please?”

Reluctantly he found your gaze, fingers curled into a fist atop his thigh. “We don’t get much happiness in this world. Probably won’t ever get it again. But I’m happy I found you Joel. Out of all the ways life could have gone in this hell, finding you has been the best outcome.”

“We might not even make it to Boston,” he muttered despite the way his lips quirked. “What then?”

“Then I’d say it’s a pretty good way to go. Dying with someone I love.”

Disbelief colored his face, hand flat and loose against denim that had seen better days. “Yeah.” He exhaled long and slow—satisfaction spilling into the air. Neither of you wanted to be the first to say it, words meant for final moments and days where humanity lingered in the air, but you couldn’t take it back now. “A hell of a way to die.”

You smiled, settling against the wall. “A good way to die.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #tlou fic #my writing

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colorfulrook · 3 hours ago

Note

I don't know if I'm supposed to ask this or just commenting on the post is ok- but I was thinking of using two sentences from the 100x100 celebration-

System! Reader Au where jinwoo says "you are my favorite notification" but reader says "I loved you and that was my mistake"

It can also go like him realizing that reader loved him but pulled away which connects with the sentence "what hurts more... Is that you didn't fight for me"

IDK YOU CAN CHOOSE ANY, I JUST LOVE TO READ YOUR STORIES! ALSO CONGRATS AGAIN

[A/N]: Both are fine! Thank you so much for reading my stories, I am super glad that you liked it! This time I chose to do it from Jinwoo's pov, to switch things up, get the tissues baby because i'm bringing rain. - Rook

I AM ON A ROLL TODAY LET'S GO

He never really noticed it—how quiet things became.

How there weren't gentle nudges to complete side quests anymore. No soft glimmers in the corner of his vision offering encouragement or witty little remarks hidden between lines of code. Just the clean, sterile interface of the System. Cold. Calculative. Perfect.

The way it used to be. The way it was supposed to be.

And yet, Jinwoo found himself searching for something that was no longer there. Or rather, someone.

He didn't know when it started—when the System stopped feeling like just a tool and started feeling... warm. Like someone was watching over him, not because they were required to, but because they wanted to. Messages slipped in between status updates, quiet words of care buried in mission logs. Sometimes funny. Sometimes kind. Sometimes soft.

But always there.

He used to think it was a glitch. Some strange hiccup in the code. Until he realized the messages changed when he changed. They adapted. Grew gentler when he was hurting, sharper when he needed to focus, and even playful when the air was too heavy. And then, one day—he said it out loud, without even thinking.

“You are my favorite notification.”

The screen had flickered, and he could’ve sworn he saw a blink of static. Like surprise.

But then you went quiet again.

For days. Then weeks. The warmth disappeared.

The quests came, but the comfort didn’t.

No encouragement.

Just instructions, plain and simple.

And he hated it.

He didn’t understand why the absence hit him like this—why he found himself standing in the aftermath of another gate, body sore and breath uneven, staring up at a sky that didn’t answer.

"Why are you not saying something?" he whispered to no one.

It wasn’t until Cha Hae-In called him out—softly, gently—that he realized.

“You’re searching for someone,” she said, “Who are you looking for?”

He didn’t deny it. How could he?

Because the truth burned low in his chest, bitter and unresolved.

He’d taken it all for granted. Every small moment, every quiet message. Every time the System held him through encouragement, even though it couldn’t touch or speak like a person. But it was real. They were real. And now, they were gone.

Until one day, when a system error popped up unexpectedly—an old fragment of code blinking in and out of existence, like something desperately trying to remain.

He opened the file without thinking. It wasn’t even meant for him, not directly. It was just old data—remnants of old quest logs... And your name—the one he gave you that night long ago.

And there, buried at the end of a forgotten mission summary, was a line:

"I loved you, and that was my mistake."

Jinwoo’s heart stopped, silent tears slid down as he finally understood.

It wasn’t code.

It was a confession.

And he had seen it too late.

#solo leveling scenarios #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jinwoo x you #solo leveling angst #solo leveling

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dmmdconfessions · 2 years ago

Text

[Image text: I’ll be honest here, I was so hyperfixated on the idea of an Aoba/Madoka crossover (Madoka Kaname from Puella Magi Madoka Magica), being both like siblings.]

[Full text: I’ll be honest here, I was so hyperfixated on the idea of an Aoba/Madoka Kaname (from Puella Magi Madoka Magica) crossover being both like siblings (like the entire whole older brother shtick where he has like a clumsy, insecure younger sister who’s secretly a girlboss deep down, who literally turned into a god in the Rebellion film).

Plus, their colour palettes/designs, schemes and all are adjacent to the Gumball/Anais (from The Amazing World of Gumball) colour palette scheme, meaning they would resemble them a bit. Their interactions would be really sweet together as I know Aoba would have this small, pink-haired fluffball of hope consistently follow him everywhere Aoba goes, and would try to get him to as he goes to Junk Shop Heibon to complete his daily working shift while Madoka just goes to school like an ordinary schoolgirl just the way she is.

Aoba sometimes comes home and buys Madoka a lesbian flag she can hang up on her wall, and makes dinner for her a lot. She introduces her girlfriend Homura to Aoba and he’s like “aww, that’s sweet.” I feel like he’d grow accustomed and fond to her, and I feel like he’d grow an ever-loving desire to protect her from falling into despair so much so that she turns into a witch.

One of the funniest things I can imagine Aoba doing is having one of his alters (Sly Blue for example), fronting and then she gets a call from him and he takes her on a little ride while Madoka brings Homura, her beloved, with her to the retail park that is extremely far away from both of their locations. He then lets them play on one of those Beatmania arcades, and he goes to the cigarette bar to get a quick smoke and to accompany his younger sister and his girlfriend, and they both win so much on the Pop'n Music arcades while they start to finish off and get ready for the bowling venues.

Sly sits on one of these chairs and watches his younger sister Madoka and her girlfriend go off at these bowls, and claps and cheers when Madoka manages to succeed at taking one of these bowling pins all in one go. And after that, Sly fronts back to Aoba, the main host of the system, and then he calls back for them to come back so they can go in there to explore the garden, town pebble streets and more amusement parks for their own excitement, so they can have pretty picture taking time.

I can imagine Aoba loving Madoka like he’s his own daughter and doing Madoka’s hairstyles every morning like crazy while on the phone trying to listen some deals that Haga-san made to him, putting small ribbon hair clips in Madoka’s hair, and making her breakfast and making sure she’s at least well fed and happy.

I want her to be happy after the shit she has gone through. My precious baby daughter. My daughter, she didn’t deserve all of this, she deserves to be all happy and to be all pain and trauma free. It’s not a matter of comparing “yaoi vs yuri” of which series is pure or fucked up or whatever. I’m not simply here to compare them. I’m here to illustrate my point cohesively that Madoka would view this mentally ill skinny 23 year old gay boy who has had a never had a good day ever in his life, and she would go “I’m going to view that man as my older brother. He seems nice.” and tries to hang around with him to try to get more information from this gay boy who has a shit ton of unresolved BPD that would end up with him being sent to a mental asylum. It’s about the potential, it’s about the silly sibling shenanigans of Madoka trying to wake her older brother up so he can take her to school. It’s him seeing that she is going down a dark path full of magical girls. Whatever. I am so mentally ill about them. Madoka Magica changed my brain fundamentally and mentally and I needed to thus propose this like crossover even further because I want to say it out loud.]

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undead-moth · 9 months ago

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I know I've been on about this for a while now and I'm being a hater but you're telling me SydCarmy was "always meant to be platonic" even though there are two seasons of writing making use of tried-and-true explicitly romantic tropes, themes and writing signals, and SydLuca is going to be romantic because...he was nice to her on screen for a few minutes?

I don't even care if people ship SydLuca, or if they just prefer it, but you can't honestly tell me that you believe Carmy was always meant to be a friend but Luca is an obvious love interest.

Just because Syd and Carmy haven't kissed or confessed their love to each other doesn't mean that isn't very obviously the direction this show is going. The Bear has already shown you who is endgame. It has shown you every episode of the show so far.

Honestly I really don't think The Bear fanbase understands this show or cares about these characters or the story being told here, which is unfortunate because this show is shockingly well-written in comparison to most shows right now, and we should be so grateful for it but all we're doing is complaining that the writers led us on by not making a ship canon fast enough. It's just. Sad.

#The Bear #SydCarmy #I was like a casual fan of this show two days ago #and now seeing how little respect this show gets from it's fanbase I'm losing my mind #I mean I shipped SydCarmy before anyway but now it means so much to me #it means so much to see such a realistic and purposefully well paced romance take place #so many shows portray romantic relationships and their beginnings in ways that just don't really happen in real life #and this show very purposefully said no. These are characters who are strangers. who are working together. Who are in a tense environment #and each of them has problems - one of them the type of problems that makes developing new relationships pretty difficult #these two would not get together right away. It would take a long time. And there would be ups and downs.#And even when that's the case. Even if when it takes a long time and doesn't go smoothly and is hard -#it can still be beautiful. It can still be romantic. It can still happen and here's how #and I'm just so inspired genuinely. It is so difficult to write romance without being cliche and so difficult to write it in a way that #could actually happen in real life and I really do hope I can write something half as good some day #and then to know so many people have no appreciation for it at all #because they prefer the shows that have characters make eye contact a few times and then confess their love for each other like #it's just fucking sad. So sad that so few people have any appreciation for good writing especially the difficult of romance writing #like I really just don't even know what to tell you. In real life these two would not have confessed to each other yet. They would not have #kissed yet. They would not have even realized they have feelings for each other yet because those feelings would still be developing #and I also want to point out that given the disparity in power between Syd and Carmy in season 1 it wouldn't have been healthy for them to #get together much sooner. He was her boss. He was also her idol. Before they can even get together that needs to be balanced out.#And then on top of that don't you see the value in Carmy realizing the dream girl he's romanticized in his head - Claire - isn't actually #what he wants? Don't you see the beauty in him being disillusioned from that? And realizing that Syd is what he wants?#Don't you see the beauty in Syd having an idealized vision of what Carmy The Great Chef is like realizing she was wrong and that he's human #and flawed and then realizing - she loves him anyway? She loves him more for not being on a pedestal and for having his flaws?#Are you telling me that even thinking about this doesn't move you? Doesn't make your heart ache a little?#And again - ship and let ship - but what is Luca? What is Luca if not just what she was hoping Carmy would be when she wen to The Beef?#What is he if not just another man who she has not seen under pressure yet? Not seen reliving trauma yet? Not been her boss yet?#It's easy to look at him and think he's better than Carmy - and that's the point. That's the point The Bear is making.#It is easy to want someone you don't know. It's hard to want to someone you do know. But that's what love requires and that's the point

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slimepuparibaba · 1 month ago

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18+ NSFW CALEB HEADCANON, HEAR ME OUT! IF YOU ARE A MINOR THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING DO NOT TOUCH THIS WITH A 90-FOOT-POLE

ALSO I SOUND LIKE A MADMAN BUT HEAR ME OUT OK JUST... JUST HEAR ME OUT--

caleb gets worse and more depraved the longer sex goes on

HEAR ME OUT. JUST... JUST HEAR ME OUT.

The more he has you, the less restraint he has. by the time you're spent, he's PROBABLY STILL GOING SO LONG AS YOU DON'T ASK HIM TO STOP OR YOU DO NOT USE THE SAFE WORD (he abides by safe word and is heavy on consent, never assume otherwise)

It'll start with him on top of you, probably being rough (because let's be so real here Caleb is a freak and you are too), doing the usual, he'd encourage you to squirt, to cum, he'd whisper how filthy you are and how you're so perfect for him. he'll ask if you're aware about the size difference between you and him and how he could easily crush you, how he could ruin you for anyone else (oh but you would like that, wouldn't you baby? is probably what he'd ask)

I'M SAYING HE GETS WORSE AS TIME GOES ON. LET ME COOK HERE—HE GETS EXPONENTIALLY WORSE AND MORE UNHINGED THE LONGER THE SEX CONTINUES.

you think you're getting overstimulated? man's trying to get his cock milked over and over again, he's AIMING to be overstimulated. he wants to feel the warmth, the tightness, he wants to merge your flesh into one because HE IS THAT OBSESSED WITH YOU—

at some point he'd lose it entirely, start rambling about other things you could do.

"want me to tie you up, huh? use that little baton from when we first reunited, that thing in interrogations? oh you want that soooo bad don't you? want a collar around your little neck, want me to leash you and drag you around the room? you want me in uniform, want me to be gloved, spank you for misbehaving? how about i use my evol, fuck you against the wall, the ceiling? zero gravity even, drag you down on my cock? or maybe you wanna resonate, huh? wanna hear the disgusting things i think about, feel the way i feel whenever i thrust in and out of you?"

YEAH HE RAMBLES MORE THE LONGER THE SEX GOES ON. BECAUSE HE'S LOSING HIS GODDAMN MIND.

like he will start spouting out the most depraved thoughts he has of you the longer it goes, confessions spilling from his mouth. he's good at restraining, really, he is, but the longer he's inside you, the more of you he's tasted, THAT MAN? GONE. RESTRAINT? BYEEEEEEE

because you feel so good, and now his moans are turning into full on whimpers, and the moment you start seeming tired, and the moment he knows you've been going for WAY TOO LONG, he'll start bargaining

"I promise this'll end in seven minutes, just seven more minutes, need seven more minutes in heaven with you please please, please just please—"

and then when you PASS that seven minute mark (he's so invested), he finally becomes so whiny and apologizing

"I'm a filthy dog, they're right, I'm a disgusting mutt, I'm a beast, I'm a gross pervert, all I want is to take you and break you and rebuild you and mold you, I want you all to myself, I want to keep you here forever and fuck you like this forever, fuck, I'm a selfish disgusting bastard, I can't—"

he'll start raving on and on about how addicted he is, how he can't live without you, how you feel so good that he can't breathe, how he wants to stay right there with you, never leave, keep you there, breed you, and how he knows that he's a gross, disgusting pervert who's so honed in on fucking you out of your mind because it feels too good, he loves you so much, he needs you, he CRAVES you, but he's such a disgusting person and you're a divine being that's giving a sinner like him a chance--

Promise when he comes down from his high or you say the safe word that he'll return to normal and probably regret pushing it too far, ask if he did too much, etc.

he'll give you aftercare, he'll help you if you feel wobbly, he'll apologize over and over again for pushing your limits, say that you did so well and thank you for putting up with him...

...just... just know if you encourage him he will get even worse and you are in trouble

This man needs to be restrained and he would gladly BE restrained cuz the moments restraints are off and he gets a piece of you, KNOW HE WILL GET EXPONENTIALLY WORSE

(and if you're into that you should rile him up actually)

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #l&ds #caleb #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #lnds caleb #caleb x reader #caleb smut #caleb headcanon #caleb headcanons #caleb x you #caleb love and deepspace #caleb x y/n #caleb xia

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apatheticsunday · 24 days ago

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Manifesting Destiny

AKA "Danny knows about Bruce Wayne's little adoption habit, so he actively fights back by making digs at the older man's age. He doesn't realize he essentially adopted himself by calling Bruce 'grandpa'!" prompt idea!!

Okay, so 19-year-old Jazz moves to Gotham because Arkham has an psychiatrist internship that guarantees a job after graduation from Gotham-U. She takes a 12-13 year old Danny with because the "ghost attacks" (i.e., her parents are getting very obsessed with dissecting Phantom and it's genuinely worrying) are getting worse. Now Danny's in Gotham Prep... along with Damian Wayne.

They do not get along.

Damian stabs Danny with a pencil, Danny bites Damian so hard that he needs stitches, and the detentions only increase their bloodthirst because, "He started it!!" It comes to a head when Damian shoves Danny down the stairs (he wasn't really meaning to, he just pushed too hard), and Danny goes down hard. As in not-getting-back-up kind of hard. And Damian realizes he just killed a civilian. He's running through contingency plans, trying to figure out whether he can hide the body or if he should confess to Father, when the Fenton boy's broken neck... becomes un-broken?? And he sits up??

So, 13-year-old Damian makes a logical decision. Daniel Fenton is clearly his Arch Nemesis. He's undeniably a meta (perhaps with super-healing abilities?) so he can withstand Damian's too-enthusiastic violence. And Danny's like, this fucker just killed me. I'm going to beat his ass. Except Damian has a really high pain tolerance and is literally the heir to the League of Assassins. Long story short, Damian and Danny have "play dates" where they spend the entire time trying to kill/beat each other up. Jazz is just happy that Danny seems to have made a friend.

Bruce, on the other hand, takes one look at a scrawny, black-haired, blue-eyed kid who clearly has some childhood trauma, and mentally becomes Bat Dad. He tried to approach the subject once. Bruce carefully, tentatively asked, "Do you have a place to stay, son? We have plenty of rooms." To which Danny replied, "I'm not your son, I have a dad!! Why don't you go sit down before you break a hip, grandpa!!" (Tim choked on his tea, Damian nearly climbed across the table to strangle Danny, and Dick - who doesn't even live at the manor, he was just dropping off a case from Bludhaven PD - laughed so hard he cried.)

Except... Danny keeps coming over to the Wayne Manor (since Damian refuses to 'spar' at Jazz's one bedroom apartment, as it lacks a personal gymnasium). And Bruce is still kind, no matter how many times Danny makes fun of him for wearing bifocals or turtlenecks, or when he just straight up calls Bruce an old man. Plus, Damian's kind of mellowed out, too. He's teaching Danny actual sparring techniques, hand-to-hand combat, and explains different types of weapons/how to use them. Alfred brings the boys snacks. Occasionally Dick and Jason will visit for dinner, ruffling the boy's hair and joking about something or another. He's even introduced to Steph, Cass, and Barbara.

It dawns on Danny one evening, when Alfred is readying the car to take him back to his and Jazz's apartment. Bruce is scraping leftovers into a plastic container for Jazz to re-heat when he gets home and Danny's debating quietly with Damian about whether octopi are smarter than Superman. (Damian says yes, octopi are definitely smarter; he's seen Superman mutter to himself "lefty loosey, righty tighty" when trying to unscrew a water bottle cap.)

Then Bruce is handing Danny the leftovers, and Danny distractedly gives Bruce a side-hug, saying, "Thanks, grandpa."

Totally unironically. Danny's internal monologue is just what the fuck did I just say as Bruce slips him a $20 ("For a treat on the way home.") and escorts him to the front door. He thinks about it as Alfred drives him home. Thinks about it when he and Jazz curl up to watch a movie that night. Danny belatedly realizes that he's been unintentionally thinking of Bruce "Serial Adopter" Wayne as his grandfather??? For months now?? How could this happen??

Back at the Wayne Manor, Bruce is still in the kitchen, listening to Damian continue to debate Superman's intelligence while Tim scrolls on his work tablet. He'll probably take the kids, including the newest edition to the family, to the zoo this weekend.

#little does danny know that bruce is already a grandpa #so the “grandpa” insult isn't actually an insult #dick and babs are married with mar'i in this lol #batfam #dpxdc #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc

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earthtooz · 1 month ago

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because throwing an apple at someone's head was a sign of professing one's love in greek myth.

fluff, gn!reader, i wrote this in a blip

When you told yourself today was the day you confessed to Phainon, you weren't expecting it to turn out like this.

The very ripe, very red, very ready-to-be-consumed apple was not supposed to fly out of your grasp the way it did. It was not supposed to hit him on the head, silencing his laughter as he dumbfoundedly blinks at the item that broke him out of his giddy stupor. It was not supposed to land perfectly in his hands as he glances between your face and your snack, which has now decided to work against you.

You definitely were not supposed to just mutter a meek 'I like you', and you definitely were not supposed to turn on your heel and run away from him!

And why is he chasing after you? Can't he tell you need alone time to recover from the unfortunate series of events that just unfolded?

"Y/n, wait!" He calls, barely sounding out of breath. Your feet hit cement, grass, climb up and down flights of stairs, they don't stop as you dash through every bit of the Grove of Epiphany, all for the sole purpose of shaking Phainon off your tail.

However, it was your mistake for believing someone like him would be willing to give up, and his stamina outpaced yours by a landslide, so just what were you thinking? Running away like that in the spur of the moment?

"No!" You shout back. "Leave me be!"

"But I have something to say to you!"

"I'm sorry for throwing an apple at your head!"

"It's okay! I don't mind- just, stop running!"

"Maybe you should stop chasing me!"

"For Titan's sake-"

As you round a pillar that lead to a short staircase, Phainon had jumped over the ledge and landed by the time you descended the flight, and with a lunge, his hand had securely wrapped itself around your elbow. You had lost. Lost the chase, the fight, your dignity as you gaze up at him, your stomach stirring with unease at his imminent rejection.

There's an unreadable look in his eyes but you don't try deciphering it because you're certain you seem like a mess right now. Your face felt flushed, sweat stuck to your skin, and your hair was all over the place, and worst of all, Phainon was going to reject you while you were in this state.

Titans, please help. This was not what you intended at all.

"You're too fast," he huffs, chest heaving like yours. "You really know how to steal someone's breath away."

"If you're gonna let me down just get to it already."

"Let you down? You think I was chasing you all this way just to let you down?"

"Or were you going to return my apple? It was my afternoon snack-"

"What? No, it's my apple now, you gave it to me!"

"Well, I... threw it at your head-"

"-I accept your confession!" He blurts boldly.

All you can do is splutter out a pathetic 'huh???'.

Phainon is exasperated at this point, desperate to confess the feelings that's been dwelling in his chest for the entire time he's known you. When he's waited this long, he wasn't going to let the moment go, not when you're the one who took the first step, having the nerve to capture his heart and take off bolting with it.

"I like you- a lot! You're everything I've ever wanted and I've waited so long for this, Y/n, please don't make me suffer any longer."

He doesn't blink as he looks at you, as if stubborn to not miss anything about you, not a single micro-change in your expression, the way your breath hitched at his passion, the tweaks of a small smile beginning to pull at your lips.

"Just how am I making you suffer?"

"You tell me the one thing I've been waiting to hear from you and instead of letting me speak, you run away and have me chase you like a Spirithief, does your cruelty know no bounds? Fine, if you're still unsure about my feelings then-"

He takes a big bite out of the apple, the crisp crunch speaking more than it should have to as you blink at his unwavering will.

Phainon's confession settles in the silence, and the first thing you do is laugh in a way that has him almost crumbling to his knees in relief. It was an ode to something beautiful, the start of a new beginning, and as he split your apple in half and handed you the unbitten part, the dull ache on his head finally began to subside.

#earthtooz: hsr !!#phainon x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #phainon x you #phainon fluff

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cherryite · 17 days ago

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i got you.

summary. after a near death experience on a mission, your relationship with your childhood best friend mark shifts unexpectedly

content. childhood bestfriend!reader x mark grayson, superpowered!reader, neighbor!reader, fem!reader, friends to lovers, everyone knows but them trope, hurt/comfort, happy ending, slow burn (if you squint), yearning, love confessions, mutual pining (word count. 9,6k)

warnings. MDNI!!, depictions of violence, blood and injuries, implied underage drinking, drunk harassment, vomiting/puking, eventual smut, breeding kink (again if you squint), unsafe sex

author's notes. hi pookies, so this is probably bad, i have not written in ages so please ignore anything that's ooc (probably everything lolol), i'm just having fun with writing right now and trying to get back into it! not super canon compliant either whoops

Life just couldn’t go your way. Not that being ‘blessed’ with super speed and teleportation abilities really helped with that, or being in college, or the fact that you got your ass kicked whenever you did a little bit of world saving. Bleeding out while staring up at the sky, clouds swirling above with the sounds of chaos around you was not how you wanted to leave this world. Your throat is tight, Your baby blue suit is the same color as the sky above as blood seeps out of a hole in your side. You fear not even your advanced healing will save you now as you cough blood, the warm liquid spattering over your face. Running out of your ‘power bars’ as you called them was the first sign things were about to go bad. Your extremely fast metabolism as a result of your powers is often also a hindrance, if you go too long without energy, without calories, they become much less effective; you run slower, and can’t teleport as fast or far. And you ran out. Because of course, you did.

Rubble digs into your back, normally it would be painful if it weren’t for the fact that you could barely feel your fingers. You spit up again, blood covering your chin and coating your lips with the metallic smelling liquid. Your eyes search the skies, looking for flashes of blue, yellow, and pink. ‘Mark and Eve won’t let me die’ you think, though you have no idea where they are. The comms in your ears barely register to you as sounds become muffled.

“Rex, where’s Breeze? She’s supposed to be with you.” Eve’s voice, she sounds upset as she speaks your hero name, though in your blurry mind, you can’t decide in what capacity. More words are spoken, and people are yelling; you cough again as you feel your body rapidly try to heal itself to no avail. You can hear Rex’s voice over the static explaining where he had seen you last. You can hear Mark, panic lacing his voice, as he says he’ll go look for you. You almost smile. Mark, Invincible, your friend since childhood. Whatever ghost of a smile is on your lips is gone as quickly as it came. ‘I can’t let Mark see me die, he can’t be the one to find me,’ your mind races, and bile rises in your throat, not blood this time. You are so caught up in your mind, oblivious to the passing of time, that you barely feel large hands cup at your face and neck; your name is being yelled repeatedly, distraught and panic stricken. Your vision is blurry as you focus on the sight above you. Mark’s arms slip under your body, your hair hangs limply beneath you, as he lifts you carefully, inspecting your brutalized body frantically.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s me, it's Mark,” he is doing a terrible job of hiding the fear in his voice as he speaks, trying to seem comforting but it doesn’t really help because his voice shakes. He props you up with one arm, his other hand using his suit to wipe the blood from your chin and mouth. A shot of pain runs along your spine, but you barely register or react, a small whimper of pain is the only noise you make. You feel pressure on your wound, his warm hands slick with your blood, the frayed parts of your suit tickle you as he moves it to the side to get a better look.

“I got you, I got you,” Mark says, his voice thick like he’s got something stuck in his throat, his bottom lip quivers slightly. You feel the urge to reach up and cradle his face to comfort him like you used to do as kids, but your arm feels like it weighs like a ton of bricks.

“You got me,” you say, your voice so weak you can barely register as it tumbles from your lips, accompanied by another cough of blood. It splatters against Mark’s face, and you see him flinching as the metallic liquid touches his exposed skin. He carefully picks you up, his touch as gentle as he can be while he trembles. He says something about getting you back to the med bay, that you’ll be fine, that you have to be. Wind rushes over your body, but it just feels like your floating, your unfocused eyes trained on Mark’s face. He’s talking to you but you can’t hear it. The brown eyes you love to stare into are covered by his goggles and you wish you could see them, just once more before you die. Your body doesn’t register as your head lulls to the side limply, all you see is dark.

Your eyes shoot open, harsh white light blinds you instantly. You feel crushingly sluggish, your body aches, and your head pounds harshly in your skull. The light eventually stops being so bright, your eyes adjust, taking in your surroundings. The bed you're occupying is definitely a hospital bed, you’ve visited Mark in ones that look like this plenty of times before. The room is familiar too. Your brain connects that you're certainly in the med bay, your brain also realizes you're alive. As you continue to survey the area, your eyes spot two figures. Eve is curled up in a chair in the right corner, her head resting on the wall. A fuzzy blanket that you swear is from your room is slung over her and her red hair is pulled up in a messy ponytail. Mark lays to the left, slumped forward in his own chair, his head resting on the side of the hospital bed. His black hair is messy like he's been running his hands through it repeatedly. His back is angled terribly as he rests, you cringe to yourself at the thought of sleeping like that. Starting to regain feeling in your limbs, you feel a pressure on your hand. Mark’s hand clutches your own as he sleeps, scabs covering his knuckles. Your heart clenches in your chest, it beats against your ribcage with such force you almost think it’ll crack the bones if it continues. A machine to your right starts beeping, and you feel sick enough that you're afraid you're going to puke. The machine beeping wakes Eve and Mark, You close your eyes and scrunch up your face, you can feel Mark squeeze your hand. You try to calm your breathing. You hear Eve say she’s going to go to talk to one of the doctors, slipping out of the room. You hate hospitals, you hate the med bay, you hate this.

When you finally reopen your eyes, they immediately connect with Mark’s brown ones. They’re staring at you like you’ve just hung the stars and defied the laws of death (which you basically had). A smile curls at your lips because he has the biggest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen and it makes your heart race.

“Hey you,” you manage out, your voice is hoarse and it cracks as you speak. Mark’s face has an unreadable expression on it, perhaps one of disbelief but more muted. Maybe it’s relief, you're not sure as his face scrunches slightly. His hand clutches yours tightly, his gaze never leaves your face.

“I thought you died,” he says weakly, shifting closer to you.

You scoff tiredly. “Can’t get rid of me that easily.” He does not like that answer, even though you're trying to lighten the mood. His gaze doesn’t leave your face, he has light bags under his pretty brown eyes, making you frown. The idea of him not sleeping makes your stomach twist. There’s a beat of silence before his hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his fingers tenderly stroking your cheek. The air nearly leaves your lungs. Affection between them was normal, a common occurrence. It made sense with how long they had known each other. But this felt different, something was different.

You think of a fond memory of when they were younger, 6 and 7 respectively. Mark tripped and fell while chasing you around in your driveway, scraping his knees pretty badly. Your heart had dropped as you heard him plummet to the pavement with a ‘thud’. He cried as sobs racked his body, fat tears rolling down his sweet rosy cheeks. You had cradled him while he cried, resting his head on your tiny chest, stroking his hair as you spoke to him.

“I got you, Mark,” you had said, your voice tiny, sweet as candy as he absentmindedly twisted the end of one of your braids around his finger as he calmed down. Debbie had come over to check on the two of you not long after, taking him home to fix his knees up. Though not before he gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek, tears still visible on his face as he thanked you. Debbie hugged you as well and praised you for taking good care of Mark, a smile on her face. Even after they grew out of being bright faced babies, they stayed that way. Another memory that sticks with you is when they both had just entered 8th grade. Some boys had been teasing you at school, asking you out on dates for their own amusement. As they worked on homework at his house later that day, you were well aware you weren’t as chatty, not as energetic; not yourself in the slightest. Mark noticed, of course, his brows furrowed in concern at you as you worked diligently on your worksheet.

“Okay, what's up,” he had said eventually, catching you off guard. You shrugged, not looking up from your paper.

“Nothing's up, why,” you cringed inwardly to yourself, not being convincing in the slightest. Mark poked and prodded until he eventually got the truth out of you. The way his brown eyes softened as you had recounted the day as tears welled in your eyes, was forever ingrained in your mind. Eventually, it led to both of you laying on his bed, your hair sprawled out, covering your back as you cried into his chest. His hands carded through the silky strands, rubbing your back as you clung to him.

“Shhh, I got you,” he says, his words quiet, only for your ears. His chin rested on your head because he couldn’t stand to see you cry. Warm, salty tears soaked his shirt, your hands clinging to his sides. Eventually, both of you had fallen asleep, homework discarded and sown around the floor of Mark’s room. When your mom frantically knocked on the Grayson’s door, she and Debbie were not surprised to find them curled together in Mark’s bed. Your mom simply told Debbie to send you back over in the morning, a soft smile on her face. You could think of dozens of times when similar occurrences had happened: cuddling during movie night, comforting touches, running hands through each other's hair. Something was different. But what scared you even more was that you were starting to realize it wasn’t that different. Not as different as you had tricked yourself into believing for years.

His hand is still warm against your cheek and you have no idea how long you’ve been spiraling for. Your heart thumps painfully, as his thumb brushes against the fat of your cheek.

“You scared me,” Mark says, his voice falters and your eyes pool with tears because, albeit indirectly, you caused your best friend a great deal of pain. You start to sniffle, your face screwing up as you start to cry. You’ve barely even started to process that you almost died, gone forever, gone from the people you care so deeply for. Mark’s voice hits your ears as you close your eyes to start to bawl, gasping breaths leaving your lips as tears run down them into your mouth. He’s speaking but you're so focused on crying you can’t hear him, all you feel is him adjusting you in this stupid hospital bed and crawling in beside you. Strong arms pull you against his chest, and you bury your face in his neck, muttering against his skin, “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry Mark.” You can feel him tense slightly, your hot, wet breaths heaving against his skin. He all but coos as he drags his hands through your hair, admiring the way the light glistens off the strands. His voice crackles as he speaks.

“I got you. I’m not- I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here with- with me.”

The last part almost seems like he’s trying to comfort himself instead of you, his grip tightening on your shaking form. You feel him nuzzle his cheek to your forehead, his deep breathing puffing hot air against your ear. A shiver ran up your spine, suddenly glad your face was buried in his neck, glad he couldn’t see the way your cheeks flushed involuntarily. Surely it was just because you were having a nervous breakdown, nothing else. You stay like that for a while, his hands soothing down her back all while being careful of any lingering wounds. The sobs and tears start to lessen, soon you’re just sniffling as he cradles you with as much care as ever.

“Better?” Mark’s lips brush against your ear as he speaks, his voice has a deeper tone to it as he questions you; not totally out of the ordinary considering he was only recently roused from sleeping.

“Better,” you confirm, pulling your face from his neck, and wiping your eyes messily before Mark’s hand cups your cheek, gentle fingers brushing away any tears. You barely realize how close the both of you are, faces inches apart as your breaths intermingle due to proximity. Your eyes flutter open, looking up at him through your wet lashes.

“Thanks, Mark,” you say softly, your eyes unable to drag themselves from his own eyes. Your heart is in your throat, his thumb still absentmindedly brushing over your flushed skin.

“Any-Anytime,” he mumbles back, his breath hitching as he speaks, the sudden tension in the room laying over them like a weighted blanket. His eyes flicker down to your lips for a fleeting second, you would probably not have even noticed it if his face wasn’t so close. You barely register as his face inches closer, the hand that rests on your cheek trembles with adrenaline. You suck in a shaking breath. No way, no way this is happening right now. Maybe you really did die and this is what the afterlife is like. The door opening startles you so badly that you nearly smack your forehead into his as you both scamper apart, both your faces red and your lungs breathless. Eve stands half awkwardly, half coyly at the door, over her shoulders are the doctors she said she was going to get when she left earlier.

“Uh, I got the doctors,” she says, biting her lip. You aren’t sure if she's trying to keep from laughing or out of sheer embarrassment about what she just walked in on. Mark slides out of the hospital bed, the loss of his warmth makes your heart sink. Doctors file in, Mark walks to the door by Eve to leave as the doctors work. His eyes find yours before they shut the door, leaving your heart racing in your chest and your mind muddled with thoughts of ‘what the hell just happened’.

Recovery thankfully comes easy due to your powers, but you definitely sense a different vibe whenever your deployed for a mission. You’ve kept pretty much off field for any mission deemed more dangerous than normal. Ultimately it’s more of a blessing than a curse, it gives you more time to do schoolwork, more free time. However, this unfortunately means less Mark time as well. It still stings a bit when the rest of the team departs for a mission, leaving you behind. Things have been more or less ‘normal’ between both of you since the confusing encounter in your hospital bed, almost as if it didn’t happen at all. He’s still sweet, awkward Mark, but sometimes he smiles and your stomach flips more than normal. Last week, Mark had chattered on and on about the new Seance Dog installment, his voice on speaker, blaring from your phone as you did your nightly skincare routine. You laughed to yourself at his excitement, you could almost hear the pout in his voice as he spoke.

“Why are you laughing? I’m giving you a very in depth plot recap right now! Pay attention.” Mark’s voice has an air of humor to it, causing you to giggle to yourself.

“I am paying attention, you’re just cute when you ramble,” you say nonchalantly, not even realizing you slip up until your brain catches up with your mouth. Mark’s silent aside for the faint rustling of his bedsheets, almost like he just sat up in bed. Before he can respond, your mouth opens again, “Ah well! I gotta shower, talk to you tomorrow yeah?”

He barely gets out a strangled ‘okay’ before you hang up the call and run your hands down your face in pure misery and embarrassment.

Aside from your internal conflict, Eve has decided it’s time to let loose for once this Saturday, go out, and have fun like normal young adults. You find yourself desperately needing a distraction from the mess in your mind in regards to Mark, so when Rex suggests they go to a bar (he says he ‘knows a guy’ who bounces there so it will be no problem to get in), you are arguably the most excited to go.

Saturday comes without a hitch and before you know it, you and Eve are stumbling down the sidewalk to the bar, giggling your heads off, clinging to each other as you walk in the cool night air. Rex, Mark, William, and Rae trail not far behind. Rex is already drunk off his ass from the pregame, clinging to Rae as they walk.

“They are soooo not gonna let you in if you don’t lock in immediately,” William calls out to the girls in front of them from beside Mark, who is the ‘sober sister’ for the night as William dubbed him, but Mark is barely paying attention. His brown eyes are fixated on you skipping arm in arm with Eve around 5 meters ahead of him, squealing with excitement as the group nears the bar. He swears he almost died when you and Eve showed up to the pregame because your outfit tonight was, to put it frankly, hot as fuck. Oversized black leather jacket to protect your frame from the night air, heeled black boots that reached your mid calf, tight black mini skirt, and a strapless dark red top; he could have died right then and there. Mark was so accustomed to your normal attire, sweatpants when they hung out, even your skin tight suit you wore when they were on missions, but this was a whole new beast. He knows this outfit is going to haunt his dreams for weeks to come. William elbows him in the ribs, hard, and Mark yelps at the sudden contact while turning his head to glare at his friend.

“Dude, what was that for?” Mark whines as they near the bar, getting in line to be let in with the rest of the group. William just rolls his eyes, a satisfied look on his face.

“If you keep staring I think she’s gonna explode or something, control your dick Mark,” William says slyly, Mark’s hand immediately covering his mouth to prevent others from hearing his friend's words. He hears Rae and Rex snicker to themselves ahead of them in line and he feels the heat rush to his face.

“William!” he grits out, his face nearly the color of the top your wearing, “Knock it off.”

William licks his hand, causing Mark to recoil with disgust, glaring at him as the sounds of Rex chatting with his bouncer friend drifts through the air.

“I’ll stop when you grow some balls. It’s getting pathetic, I can’t lie.” Before Mark can even respond, Rex is waving their group into the bar. You turn from your spot beside Eve, looking back to Mark and William. Your smile is bright, your cheeks are flushed from the shots you did before they left for the bar. Mark thinks he’s dreaming, you grab his arm, tugging at it.

“Come on slowpokes!” you say in a singsong voice. A strand of your hair is stuck in your lip gloss and Mark has to actively restrain his hand from brushing his thumb against your lip to clear it. He scolds himself in his mind as you drag him into the bar, over to join the rest of their group as William follows behind you both. Things have been different lately, ever since you nearly died on the last mission you were on: your touches linger more than they used to, his breath catches more than normal when you text him, and his heart races when you smile at him. Not that any of this was super new, but for as long as Mark can remember he’s felt similar sensations when interacting with his best friend, his pretty neighbor. But these sensations, these feelings, were more intense and growing by the day. Mark used to be able to brush off the butterflies in his stomach when you would call his name, when you would pull him into an earth shattering hug after a mission, when they would cuddle during their weekly movie nights; it wasn’t as easy to ignore anymore, it invaded his thoughts for much longer than it used to. Liking her wasn’t new for him, but whatever this was, definitely was.

They all reach the bar, two rounds of shots later, everyone, save Mark, is significantly intoxicated, their drunk minds blabbering about whatever pops into their minds. Tonight is karaoke night at the bar, four drunk guys are currently doing an awful rendition of ‘You Belong With Me’ by Taylor Swift which has Rex and Rae singing along drunkenly. You are tucked into his side, practically leaning on him for support as you argue with William about what the funniest Tiktok brain rot is. His arm is wrapped around your back, his hand rests on your shoulder, a safety measure to make sure you don’t fall. Or that's what he tells himself at least. Mark hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart beats against his ribcage, your shoulder leaning on his chest as your head tilts back, giggling drunkenly as you hear William say some joke that is definitely not funny to any sober person. In the dark lights of the bar, he really hopes no one can see his deeply flushed face or the way he cannot tear his eyes from you. It’s totally not because he can see down your top right now from this angle or that your soft hair is tickling his neck when you move. Or that the smell of perfume clinging to your skin makes him want to bury his nose into your neck and never leave. His grip on your shoulder tightens, deciding he should actually contribute to the conversation, just before Eve pushes her way through the crowd. She dashes towards you, a drunk smile on her face as she puts her hands on the speedster’s shoulders to steady herself.

“We’re up next in karaoke! Prepare your vocal cords!” Eve says excitedly, dragging you away towards the front, “Sorry boys! I’m stealing her for a bit!” The two of you disappear into the crowd before Mark can even utter a goodbye, he barely catches sight of you as you turn your head over your shoulder, catching his eyes before Eve pulls you away. He stares at the spot you just disappeared from, William wags his eyebrows at him suggestively.

“You are down so tremendously it shocks me you haven’t melted into a puddle yet,” William quips, Rex and Rae, coming over to join them as you and Eve crawl onto the small stage at the front of the dance floor, picking out a song with the DJ. Mark doesn’t say anything, he just rolls his eyes in response, a small smile still curling at his lips. Rae and Rex start singing ‘Two dorks sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G’ as they make kissy faces at each other and Mark once again is thankful for the partial darkness of the bar.

Music starts and you and Eve start your karaoke session, passionately singing ‘Juno’ by Sabrina Carpenter, dancing around the stage goofily. Mark desperately tries to ignore that the lyrics are raunchy as all hell, which proves difficult because he’s fully engaged in the words leaving your mouth. Trying not to imagine you two doing the lyrics in real life is an even harder challenge.

He especially tries to ignore the way heat runs through his body when you both sing ‘wanna try out some freaky positions?’ Eve pushes on your upper back, pushing you down from behind, bending you over at an acute angle as you both drunkenly giggle out the next line of the song ‘have you ever tried this one?’ Mark nearly combusts when he makes eye contact with you, and you smile at him before standing fully upright and continuing to drunkenly sing with Eve. William is giggling beside him because Mark has been staring unwaveringly at you nearly the whole time, practically drooling at the sight.

“Oh, he wants that cookie baddddd,” William says, his speech slightly slurred as Rex nearly dies of laughter beside him, as the music dies down and hoards of drunk people whoop and holler. You and Eve jump down from the stage as the DJ says they’re taking a quick break from karaoke and ‘No Hands’ blasts out of the speakers. Both of you disappear from view into the sea of people but Mark swears he sees the smile you flashed at him when he blinks.

On the dance floor post karaoke session, you and Eve giggle with each other, completely oblivious to the world around you two. Sweaty, drunk people cage you both close to each other, separating you both from the rest of the group who have set up camp at the edge of the dance floor near the bar. Rae is forcing Rex to drink water, but you can faintly hear him protesting. Eve’s lips brush against your ear so you can hear her over the blasting music.

“He wants you, bad, like bad, did you even see how he was looking at you!” Her words cause you to flush, leaning in to respond.

“Mark always looks at me like that,” you yell in Eve’s ear. The redhead rolls her eyes playfully, her hands gripping your shoulders to keep you close.

“That’s the point!” Eve starts her voice giddy, but before Eve can finish, you feel a tap on your shoulder, your heart racing as you turn. Unfortunately, it’s not Mark, who you were hoping it would be, and your smile falters a bit as you stare up at the tall man next to them. Eve glances over your shoulder to get a good look. He’s probably mid 20’s, his eyes droop drunkenly, and his voice slurs as he speaks.

“You ladies looked good up there, real captivating performance.” Eve pops her head out from behind you, eyeing him up and down.

“Uh thanks,” Eve responds civilly, smiling cautiously at this random drunk man. The guy drunkenly leans in closer, his lips curling up wolfishly. You, even in your drunk haze, can smell the alcohol on his breath as his next words wash over them.

“It was super sexy, I totally would wanna see you guys do that pose again in my bedroom later.” Eve stiffens behind you, and the hands she has on your shoulders tighten. You use your hand to push the redhead behind you more, out of sight of the man in front of them. Suddenly you feel painfully sober as you digest his words.

“Hah, sorry no, we aren’t interested,” you try to brush him off, your stomach churns as he steps closer, and Eve’s hands grip your shoulders.

“Oh come on ladies, ya’ gotta unwind a little, pretty girls like you shouldn’t be going home alone tonight,” he reaches forward, brushing a strand of your hair from your face. You flinch as his sweaty fingertips touch your face, your eyes wide with shock. Your eyes flicker around but you see no easy exit in the crowd of drunk people.

“Hey, she said no dickhead,” Eve pipes up behind you, her voice forceful, “We aren’t interested, did you hear her the first time?”

“Oh, feisty, I like it,” he slurs, his eyes focusing on Eve behind you. His grimy hand reaches back to try and touch her too, but before he can, your hand makes contact with his face, hard. The creep stumbles a bit, shocked at the sudden assault, people around turn to watch through the crowd, absentmindedly dancing still.

“I said, we aren’t interested,” you say, gritting your teeth as your eyebrows pinch together angrily, your hand is gripping Eve’s now who’s trying to drag you both away as the crowd disperses a bit, creating an exit, “Don’t touch me or my friend again freak!” Eve drags you away from the drunk guy, spying your friends in the crowd, who have started to see the commotion with wide eyes as they move toward the two of you to back you both up. You and Eve turn your backs to him. You immediately make eye contact with Mark, whose eyes are trained on you, his face pinched together with concern as he quickly makes his way over to you. Your heart clenches in your chest at the sight as he nears you both.

But before you and Eve can get too far, the creep yells out after you, clutching his face, his eyes piercing as he watches Mark advance toward you.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be such a fucking bitch if you got laid once in a while, tell your stupid boyfriend I feel sorry for him!” You see red as the words leave his mouth, whipping around in Eve’s hold as Rae abandons Rex, passing his drunk body to William so she can help hold you back. In their hold, you point a finger at him, and your voice shakes with anger.

“Talk to me or my friends like that again and I’ll do much worse than smacking you!” you shout out completely fueled by adrenaline at this point, as you’re pulled back to the group. You watch as the dude just laughs, disappearing back into the crowd. Your breathing is heavy as the adrenaline wears off, Eve and Rae release their hold on you to give you some space. Your stomach feels queasy.

“I’m gonna puke,” you manage out, walking hastily towards the exit of the bar. You hear Mark call after you, his voice dripping with concern as his footsteps follow after you. You hear William gag, “Oh good god she’s gonna blow chunks all over him.”

The chilly night air immediately hits you, your heels clicking against the pavement as you duck around the corner into an alleyway. You bend over, effectively throwing up nearly all the alcohol you had just consumed. There’s a presence behind you and you immediately know it’s Mark, you don’t even have to look up. Continuing to throw up, you feel his hands gently brush the hair from your face, pulling it out of the way so you don’t get puke in your hair. You continue to gag, Mark’s free hand rubs small circles on your back as comfort. Eventually, your stomach stops contracting, your eyes are watery from puking your guts out. Blearily, you turn your head to look at the man beside you.

“Sorry you had to see that,” you mumble to yourself, you hear Mark huff quietly.

“It’s no problem, there was no way I was going to let you puke in this sketchy alley all alone,” Mark’s voice is soft with a hint of jest as he soothes his large palms down your arms in comfort. You both stay like that for a beat, before you lean forward, your head resting on his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around you as you lean on him, his heart pounds against his rib cage.

“I didn’t like how that guy talked to you, I didn’t mean to go all crazy on him,” you mumble against his chest. You do not bring up that he referred to Mark as your boyfriend, but that is hardly relevant right now.

“Seems like he deserved to get put in his place way before that,” he remarks, his hands clutching onto the back of your jacket, his chin resting on the crown of your head.

“Yeah, he was being all weird to me and Eve, gross and touchy,” you trail off as you feel Mark stiffen slightly.

“Hey, hey, did he touch either of you? Did he touch you?” Mark pulls you from his chest to look at you, his eyes big, worried. The tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine, it’s soft but still demanding, persistent. You shake your head.

“No, not like that thankfully, I’m okay,” you assure him, your hand cupping his jaw as you look up at him, your eyes still wet from earlier. He nearly melts into your touch as he nods at your words, his cheek chasing the warmth your palm brings. The air nearly crackles with intensity, every touch of his skin sends sparks through your body. With your heart blaring in your ears, he nervously bites the inside of his cheek, his brown eyes still staring down at you, a mix of something you cannot place swirling in his irises.

“Can I, uh, can I ask you something?” His tone is hesitant, quiet, his throat bobs as he speaks. You feel like all the air has been sucked from your lungs, you feel like your heart is going to burst.

“Anything,” you breathe out, your eyes searching his face as you wait for him to speak. No way this is happening right now, in a random alley, where you just vomited profusely. Mark’s mouth opens slightly like he's about to speak, when your ears pick up on the sound of their friends, Rex is ranting about something and Rae is telling him to shut up. Mark seems to hear it too, his eyes flickering over to the sound. He squeezes you, reluctantly pulling away and you feel your heart drop instantly.

“Uh, are we still on for movie night tomorrow?” He says, his voice tinged with anxiety, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. You blink at him, nodding silently as William turns the corner.

“Hey, vomit comet, we’re leaving, get the nerd and hurry up,” he calls out, pulling you from your Mark centric haze. You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold chill of the night settling in your bones. Neither of you two say anything as you meander back to your friends. Eve pulls you into a hug, slinging her arm over your shoulder as you walk back towards the car with the others trailing behind, similarly to how the night started.

The drive back home is torture. Mark drives since he’s the only one not stumbling drunk out of all of you. You try to sleep through the ride, but your brain buzzes with jumbled thoughts. Mark’s eyes keep flickering back to look at you in the rear view mirror and you accidentally make awkward eye contact two or three times. Your place is one of the later drop offs and your eyes droop with a mix of drunkenness and sleepiness. You slip out of the car, bidding goodbyes to Mark and William, the only people left in the car. While unlocking the door to your home, you toss a glance over your shoulder, meeting Mark’s eyes through the car window before slinking inside, hoping sleep comes to you quickly.

The Sunday scaries hit you hard when you wake up in the morning. You groan into your pillow as your head throbs painfully, your hands immediately fumbling around your bedside table to locate some painkillers. Popping two of them in your mouth, you suck down the water in your water bottle like you haven’t drank in days. Remembering the previous night's events makes your whole body shiver with anxiety. After rotting in bed for half the day, you finally open your phone to see tons of notifications. Two are from William, he's asking if you’re alive and also if you’re as violently hungover as he is, Eve messaged you once to make sure you slept okay, and your breath hitches to see you have three messages from Mark. You swipe into the messaging app, clicking on Mark’s contact.

mark!!: remember to take an advil in the morning

mark!!: also remember to eat something please

mark!!: also also, movie night @ 7 tonight? your place?

Your heart stutters in your chest. Nothing out of the ordinary, this is typical Mark behavior, but something about it sends your heart soaring. A response is quickly typed up and sent, agreeing to the time and promising to take care of yourself today. He responds almost immediately.

mark!!: okay, excited to see you tonight :)

You simply heart the message before tossing your phone away and falling face first onto the soft pillows of your bed. A giddy scream rips from your throat, muffled by the pillow. After a moment of spiraling, you flip over, staring at your ceiling, an array of glow in the dark stars stare back, dim in the early afternoon light. The way your heart speeds up, the way you can’t get the smile off your face, makes reality come crashing down on you. You are deeply in love with your best friend and it scares you. Hangxiety takes hold of your body, your gut squeezes nervously, the air in your lungs feels thick, and your blood rushes through your veins. This revelation endangers what you hold most dear; the relationship with Mark that you’ve been cultivating for a bit more than a decade.

You spend the rest of the day stuck in your own head. Nothing helps calm the storm raging in your mind. The homework you planned to do sits abandoned, books are picked up just to be sat right back down when you cannot focus on a single page of words. Time passes slowly as you spend most of the rest of the afternoon too stressed to do anything before Mark is supposed to be there at seven.

It’s five minutes to seven when you hear your window slide open. You thankfully powered through your anxious mind to change into pajamas, opting for an oversized t-shirt and a pair of soft sleep shorts. You tear your gaze from your phone, watching Mark climb through the window, a borderline nervous smile on his face as he waves at you a bit. Your eyes rake over him from head to toe. He’s wearing a pair of simple blue pajama pants and a t-shirt William got him for his birthday last year that reads ‘I <3 HOT NERDS’.

“You’re early,” you say, glancing at your phone clock, “when are you ever early to anything?” The tease in your voice drips from your words, Mark rolls his eyes and plops down beside you on your bed. His eyes shine in the lowlight of your room, only the soft glow of string lights illuminating its walls, and it makes your breath hitch.

“I’d never be late to movie night,” he answers, staring up at you from where he lays on your bed. You raise an eyebrow at him, your face says it all. Mark runs his hands down his face, a tinge of embarrassment in his tone.

“Okay, maybe once or twice, but I was saving the planet,” he says, whining because you’ve already started to poke fun at him. You flick his ear, earning a small ‘hey!’ from Mark as you grab your laptop from the floor beside your bed, he writhes in ‘pain’, continuing to bemoan over how mean you’re being.

“Get up dork we have a movie to watch,” you hum, pulling up a streaming service while Mark crawls up to you and rests his back against the headboard beside you. Heat radiates from how close he is, your shoulders brushing as he peers over your shoulder at the laptop screen. A shiver of delight runs down your spine as his breath wafts over your neck.

“What are we watching?” he asks curiously, as you set the laptop down in front of you both. Pulling a throw blanket over both your bodies, he scoots closer, fully invading your space now.

“Hercules,” you answer, the title credits for the movie starting. Mark just hums in agreement, snuggling up in the blanket with you. His arm tentatively slides over your shoulders, drawing you further into his orbit.

“Good pick,” he says, his voice sending another spark down your spine. The way his voice gets raspy when he’s tired has your heart pounding in your chest, which has you praying that even with his super hearing he doesn’t notice. You curl closer hoping the movie will help distract you from the yearning feeling that settles in your lower stomach.

It does not help. You find yourself hyper aware of every movement he makes. The flex of his bicep behind you against your shoulder blades when he squeezes your shoulder. The way his chest vibrates as he hums along to the songs in the movie. The way you can feel his abs pressing against you. Just him. That distracts you. The both of you are practically entangled by a little more than three quarters of the way through the movie. Your right leg rests crossed over his right one, occasionally feeling this thigh muscle twitch underneath you. Your head rests on his chest, eyes glued to the movie, curled into his side.

Though, if you had looked up at his face, you would find a borderline terrified look taking over Mark’s expression. His face feels red hot, the blood coursing through his body flushing his skin. He can’t focus either, your body curled into him, back arching slightly and your leg entangled with his. The smell of your shampoo in your hair is nearly intoxicating. Mark feels dizzy because this feels very different from previous cuddle sessions. Sometimes you shift, basically bumping your crotch against his hip and he starts begging to whoever's listening to keep him from popping a boner. That does not work in the slightest. Mark is barely paying any attention to the movie, his mind frantically trying to figure out a game plan on how to deal with his unwanted friend. He groans involuntarily, his eyes wide as he realizes the sound that just erupted from him. The hand on your shoulder squeezes. You catch the sound that comes from him, tilting your head up to try and get a look at him.

“You good?” you question, adjusting again to try and position yourself in his hold better. Your blood damn near runs cold as he whimpers, turning his head away from you, but you can see the heat creeping up his neck.

“Yeah, yeah I’m, totally good,” he murmurs, his voice pitching as you place a hand on his chest to prop herself up better, your hips sliding against his thigh. Mark intakes a sharp breath, his free hand flying to your hip as he says your name in a pleading voice. You freeze, your heart in your throat at the feeling of his large hand gripping your hip bone.

“Please, stop… moving,” Mark says, his voice breathy, his pupils blown wide. Your brain catches up quickly as your eyes widen, positively mortified because now you can feel his hard on against your thigh from your new position. Still, you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

“Oh fuck, Mark I didn’t even realize,” you start to apologize, you’re voice panicked. Because what if he hated you now? What if you’d made him uncomfortable and now a lifelong friendship was ruined over Mark getting a boner and your newly realized crush on him. Mark runs his tongue over his lips a deep, shaky exhale leaving his parted lips. You want to reach up and crash your lips against his, but you don’t.

“This is so not how I wanted this to go,” he mutters to himself in solemn disappointment, his hand absentmindedly gripping your hip. You just stare at him dumbly, your brain lagging again. His eyes finally drift down to yours, his throat bobbing because he can’t believe what he’s about to do.

“Can I kiss you?” he says softly, a nervous tremble coating his words, your faces are only inches apart, just like they were in the hospital bed about a month ago. A shaky ‘yes’ barely passes your lips before his hand on your shoulder slides to cup the back of your neck. He pulls you into him, his lips pressing against yours and your eyes flutter shut from bliss. Both of you shake, your movements hesitant as you part your lips, deepening the kiss. His hand grips your hip, tugging you swiftly into his lap as his lips move languidly against your own, a gasping breath escaping you as you feel his hard length beneath you. With a swipe to his bottom lip, he eagerly lets you slip your tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his own, drawing a blissful whine from him. Oxygen deprived and anxiety running high, you reluctantly part your lips from his. Both of you pant heavily, a thin trail of spit connecting both of your puffy lips, your breaths wavering with adrenaline and desire.

“How was that?” you question quietly, nervousness pooling in your eyes. The sight of him alone could make you faint: his muscular chest rising and falling as to catch his breath, his lips kiss bitten and red, just like his face is heavily flushed. His eyes swim with affection, gazing up at you like you’re a figment of his imagination and could vanish from his hold any second.

“Better than I ever imagined,” Mark breathes out, his eyes raking over your face, the corners of his lips quirking upward. Your face mirrors his, your shaky hands cupping his jawline, taking in the warmth his body provides. He speaks again, “I’m not dreaming right? I won’t wake up in a few minutes to find out I imagined it all?”

You suck in a breath, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, your fingers caressing his jawline. You barely pull away, breath fanning over his lips.

“I’m very real Mark,” it comes out a desperate whisper, your voice sweet music to his ears as his fingers dig into the meat of your hips. His gaze is hypnotizing as he practically ogles you.

“I never- I never thought,” he trails off, at a loss for words. You could care less about talking right now, talking could come after. Pressing your lips back to his, murmuring against his lips, “Mark, shut up and kiss me again.” And oh boy does he kiss you. His lips move urgently against yours, devouring your lips into a passionate kiss, like he’s a man starved and you are the only thing he needs to keep living. His long fingers toy with the waistband of your pajama shorts, leaving your core tightening in anticipation by just his soft lingering touches. The kiss is fueled with want, both of you completely losing yourselves to each other as Mark’s lithe fingers slide up your thigh. In between kisses, he barely manages out, “can I touch you, please.” You don’t even respond, just nodding your head hurriedly, lifting your hips off his as he slides your shorts off. He’s trembling like a leaf when his fingers brush against the wet crotch of your underwear and he literally feels like he’s going to die as he moans into the kiss you two are still entangled in. Warm fingers pull your panties aside, his long fingers sliding against your slick folds. You whimper at his touch, restraining yourself from grinding down on his fingers as he traces soft figure eights against you. The kiss breaks as you both catch your breath, his forehead rests against yours as he continues to massage his fingers against you. Mark makes eye contact with you, his mouth hanging open as he rubs your clit with his thumb. The feeling of your legs trembling draws a whiney moan from his lips.

“You feel so warm,” he mutters, tentatively angling his hand so he can slide a finger into your velvety walls and your head falls to his shoulder at the sensation. Involuntarily, your hips grind down against his hand, you moan into the skin of his neck, starting to kiss messily at the skin there.

“More please,” you beg against his neck, your lips pressing heavy kisses as he slides his middle finger in to join his pointer finger, curling them against the spongy walls. His dick pulses painfully as he pulls breathless moans from your lips, the sound making his head spin and he has to bite his lips from moaning too. While pressing kisses to his skin, your hand reaches down to cup the bulge in his pants, causing his fingers to falter their pumping movements as he whimpers at the contact.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, his hips jutting upward to chase your touch. You pull your head from his neck, facing him again. Mark is enthralled by your beauty right now and it’s not because your pussy is clenching around his fingers as he curls them again. The hair on your head is ruffled, your lips rosy and full from kissing, your eyes blown wide with lust and a deep unmistakable affection. He sucks in a breath.

“Feels so good,” you babble, a breathy whine as you talk, “I- I need you, please Mark,”

His senses are on overdrive, his free hand reaching up to card his hand through your hair, his other hand still pumping his fingers into your squelching wet hole.

“Are- are you sure?” He questions, nervously bringing his brown eyes to yours. You almost laugh if he wasn’t assaulting your pussy with his fingers right now.

“Mark, if you don’t fuck me, like, right now,” you start, but don’t finish because Mark’s mouth is on yours instantly. Your body is flipped onto your back, thighs instinctually clamping around his hips. His fingers pull out of you and you whine at the loss of contact. Mark tosses his shirt over his head, tugging at yours and pulling it off. Both of you quickly shed the rest of your clothes, completely bare to each other. You suddenly feel nervous, which is silly because he was literally just finger fucking you not even a minute ago. But the sight of his dick makes your head spin because there is probably a zero percent chance that monster is going to fit in you. Mark’s broad chest rises and falls as he surveys your body, sliding his way back on top of you, his hips falling between your hips, his chest pressed against yours. Comforting fingers brush some strands from your face, and Mark looks star struck again, his brown eyes shining in the lowlight.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, his voice is soft but you can hear the slight shake in it. You drag your hands through his dark hair and he nearly purrs in pleasure.

“You’re prettier,” you respond, your stomach swirls with desire, the slick between your legs hitting the cool exposed air. He huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to the column of your shoulder, mumbling against your heated skin, “Not possible.”

His tip nudges your slick folds and you both moan at the contact, his leaking tip catching as he lines up, pushing his hips forward to notch the tip of his cock into your warm pussy. Pulling his face from your neck, he connects your foreheads again, gently using one of his hands to lift your leg, hooking it over his broad shoulder.

“I got you,” he whispers comfortingly as you withe beneath him at the sensation of his thick cock starting to breach your sopping wet hole. Mark’s voice shakes with adrenaline, his jaw dropping with a small whine as he pushes through your gummy walls.

“You got me,” you respond, warmth blooming in your chest, the stretch of his cock in you making you dizzy with arousal. His movements remain slow, finally bottoming out with a breathy moan which causes your back to arch. His eyes almost appear fair away as they stare into yours, already drunk and consumed by the feel of you. The hand he stationed on your waist squeezes the fat of your hip, allowing you to adjust to him. The full feeling of the stretch of his cock buried deep within you, it makes your chest heave as you grip his bicep with your hand.

“You feel so good,” you breath out, gripping his bicep tightly and your eyes roll back as his hips twitch reflexively. Mark whimpers at your words, slowly grinding his hips against yours, his public bone rubbing against your clit. Your walls clench and he closes his eyes in pleasure, his dick twitching inside of you.

“So wet, is’ so good,” he moans, pressing you further into the mattress, slowly dragging his cock halfway out of you, sliding it back in with ease against your slick walls. You whimper, his head falls to rest on your shoulder, muffling his own sounds of pleasure. They vibrate through your body and he shoves his cock back into you, pumping his hips back and forth, increasing the speed gradually. Your mind feels like a lust filled haze, all you see, all you smell, all you hear, is him. Wet squelches and the slapping of skin mingle with desperate moans and whines, his hip bones hitting the back of your thighs forcefully as you contract your walls around him and his movements stutter.

“Mhm, I’m gonna cum, if you keep doing that,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice is raspy, sending a chill through your skin as the coil in your lower stomach nears its peak.

“That's the plan,” she teases breathlessly, a whimper tumbling from her throat as your other leg bends, your foot pressing against his shoulder. His hips move erratically now, the position makes him continuously hit your spongy walls in a way that has you arching your back as his ragged moans escape him. His cock twitches again, your pussy clenches, trying to pull his release from him. He looks up at you and you can tell he's close, completely pussy drunk, lost in the way his cock drags along your slick folds and you swallow him up perfectly.

“In, finish in,” you force out, the only words you can manage out, and he moans at your words, his dick drilling into you, his hips stuttering.

“I love you, so much,” he babbles out, his hips moving wildly, sucking the air from your lungs, “gonna fill you up yeah? Fill you with my cum.” Mark whimpers at his own words, his lips crashing to yours, as you reach your peak, your walls milking him as you clench, moaning into his mouth. His release follows, a ring of white gathering at the base of his cock as he whimpers, his load hot and warm against your walls. His hips jerk a few more times, stuffing his cum deep into your pussy. You both breath heavily, clutching each other as you come down from your highs, both of you quivering.

“Did you mean that?” you ask breathlessly, “that you love me.” Mark stares down at you, his hair disheveled, his cock still buried in deep within you.

“Yes,” he says, his cheeks flushed, his hand that held your leg up letting it drop, “I have, for a long time.” He almost looks sheepish, which you find amusing because he just fucked the shit out of you. You giggle, mind still hyper aware.

“So have I, loved you for a while I mean,” you say as he tiredly gropes your breasts, a dopey look on his face.

“I’m definitely dreaming,” he mumbles, lowering his body to lay on top of you. You run your hands through his hair.

“Nope,” you muse. His head tilts to look up at you, his face still dazed with a lazy smile on his lips. He presses a sweet kiss to your jaw, murmuring softly about how gorgeous you are, how you’re incredible, how he loves you. Your heart soars, because this is real, you're here together, intertwined in bed, and nothing could be better. Your life has revolved around him, as his has revolved around you. You bask in each others presence as sleep finds you both, giggling together your eyes never leaving his brown ones, until you both drift away, off to meet again in your dreams.

#clart talk #my writing!!#invincible #invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #x reader #fem reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #mark grayson #invincible smut #mark grayson smut

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caelivir · 4 months ago

Text

synopsis. you’ve been deliberately dodging atsumu miya. he wants to know why.

pairing. atsumu miya x fem!reader | wc. 2.0k (it wasn’t even supposed to be this long) | genres. (implied) university au, tbh i don’t even know what this dynamic is, he calls us princess, reader’s kinda bad emotionally, rain confessions

notes. for my birthday (not gojo’s eff him (/j)) i decided why not take one of my favorite tropes of all time and pair it w the loml. you’re so welcome. this is very dialogue heavy, barely proofread, and a hot mess, but i hope you enjoy regardless.

"(y/n)." the very familiar, sultry yet aggravating voice says the moment you step out of the cafe.

"oh my god!" you jump, clutching a hand over your heart that skipped a beat. it's immediately followed with a glare towards atsumu. "what the fuck, miya? you don't just come up to people like that."

"sorry." atsumu apologizes but his nose scrunches at the word. "nah, not really. didn't know how else to get to ya."

"so you had to find me at my job?" you raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

he shrugs. "yer really not leavin' me with any other choice."

"what are you on about?" you roll your eyes as you take a sharp left, carefully exhaling out. the street is nearly deserted now that the sun sunk past the horizon, leaving only the street lights and the moon to illuminate what would be a pitch black scene. puddles of water are scattered along the walkways, remnants of the downpour that occurred earlier in the day. you had clocked out later than usual, and the next flash of rain is predicted to fall within the next few minutes. you want to get back to your dorm before the worst of it happens.

"ya know what i'm talking about." atsumu huffs. "yer clearly avoiding me."

your shoulders tense when he brings it up, and you pray that atsumu doesn't catch it. "i'm not." you lie, your heart speeding up.

"yer a shit liar. i hope ya know that." atsumu shuts you down right then and there. the fact he's able to makes you wince. that's one of the many bones you have to pick with him. he can always see right through you, and it allows him to get under your skin easily since he knows exactly what to say if he wants to get a reaction out of you.

it's because of that reason that you've been avoiding him. you know yourself well enough that if you were to stand face to face with atsumu miya as you are now, he'd figure out the secret that you've been hiding for two weeks.

atsumu presses his lips together, sighing once he realizes that all he'll get from you from this point forward is silence, but he tries his luck anywayy. "can we talk?"

you let his question fizzle out in the air, continuing down the sidewalk as atsumu follows by your side. the first drops of drizzle fall onto your hand and cheek. atsumu feels them too.

"look, it's gonna rain soon. could ya at least let me take ya home? yer gonna get soaked." atsumu gently reaches out for your hand. the sudden contact and its spark of heat makes you jump. instinctively, you yank your hand away from him. your widened eyes snap towards him, and shame washes over you. maybe the street lights are playing tricks on you, but you swear there's a flicker of hurt in his gaze. you turn away from him because you can't bear the sight of it.

"are ya mad at me? did i do somethin' to upset ya?" atsumu continues.

no, you answer in your head. you can't trust yourself to say it out loud without betraying anything else. it's not that.

"(y/n), please. talk to me." atsumu pleads. you don't think you've ever heard such desperation in his voice before. you've never seen him so raw. it's almost enough to break you, but you refuse to let go the threads of your resolve. the rain is picking up; it's cold as it soaks the threads of your clothes.

"princess." atsumu throws in as a last ditch effort. you know it is because it's the one nickname that gets you riled up the most. it sparks a reaction that atsumu knows will get you talking, but unbeknownst to him it's not for the reason he expects. he wants you to snap with anger, but all your heart does is ache. all it does is melt you into putty in his hands.

"don't call me that." you finally come to a stop, turning so that you can face him, defeat in your gaze. atsumu's blond locks are beginning to lose volume; they stick to his forehead as droplets continue to fall. his hoodie is littered with small, dark stains, a physical consequence of the rain.

"oh now i got yer attention." atsumu scoffs, poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek.

"miya." you warn, voice shaking. he ignores it.

"yer not being yerself, and ya haven't been for the last two weeks." he tells you as if you don't already recognize it yourself. "what's goin' on with ya?"

"nothing!" you deny. "i'm fine!"

atsumu rolls his eyes. "cut the crap, princess."

"seriously, stop calling me that!" you spit back at him.

you're shivering. you can't tell if it's because of your cold, wet clothes or your frustration that keeps reaching new levels. you can sense it; you can sense that your heart is about to claw itself out of chest and dump itself onto the feet of atsumu miya. your hand fists the fabric of your soaked shirt as if to keep it in.

"then tell me what's wrong!" the blond in front of you demands, running a hand through his hair. his voice projects over the brutal force of the rain.

you grimace. that's the one thing you can't do, especially since it involves him. you bite your tongue, hiding your face so that atsumu doesn't see the glassiness of your eyes. "miya... please drop it." you ask him pathetically.

"why?" he pries. this is the other issue with him. he's so damn stubborn to the point that it's infuriating. atsumu miya never backs down until he gets what he wants.

"because it's you!" the first wave of tears break free. they cascade down your cheeks, mixing in the stream of rain on your cheeks; all while your hand remains pointed at atsumu. "because i fell for you!"

atsumu shuts his mouth, going completely silent. you shake your head, laughing bitterly. "i bet you didn't expect that, did you? believe me, i didn't either. day in and day out all we've ever done was argue so i don't know how this happened. i don't know why i have these feelings for you."

wiping your face is a futile attempt yet you still do it anyway. a sob gets caught in your throat, and you choke on it. "i can't stop thinking about you. i can't be near you without my heart attempting to leap out of chest. and so yeah, i've been avoiding you miya, and it's because you've made me so damn weak."

your stare finds atsumu's. you can't get a read on him, but you don't have to second guess that he can see the pain swirling in your eyes. it's so humiliating that even now the first thing that crosses your mind is how good he looks even as you feel your heart being torn apart. his hair is completely stuck to his forehead. his blond ends that are soaked through and through drip their excess water onto his face. you want nothing more than to brush them out of his line of sight, but you can't. you fight that desire by balling up your fists.

"so please just leave me alone. stop trying to find me because i can't take this anymore." you beg through hiccups.

you wait for a response. you wait to see if atsumu will kick your heart aside. in an even better scenario, which is far from likely, he accepts it. you'll take either or.

but he does neither, and that's fine too. you leave atsumu by himself on the sidewalk, and your lack of presence pulls him out of his trance. he jogs to catch up to you, reaching from behind to clasp your hand in his.

"miya, let go-"

"no." he says firmly, a newfound fire burning behind his eyes, one that exceeds the one you feel on your hand. the sight makes you gulp. "ya can't just confess yer feelings for me and leave."

you chuckle weakly, trying to pull yourself free from his grasp. "i think i can."

"no, ya can't. ya didn't even give me a chance to say anythin'." atsumu argues. he doesn't relinquish the hold he has on you.

"what more do you have to say? you don't feel the same, and that's fine-"

"could ya stop assuming things?! i never even said that." atsumu squeezes your hand ever so lightly in frustration. "and by the way, i'm not gonna leave ya alone. i'll follow ya to the edge of the earth if i have to."

you're still crying at this point, and atsumu's words are only making you more upset. "why?! why are you so fixated on me?! why can't you just-"

"because i'm in love with ya!"

in that moment, you swear the rain stops in its place, suspended in the air. surely, you must've been hearing things wrong. atsumu miya, the guy who has everyone dancing to the tune of his hand, is- no that doesn't even sound right. how could he possibly-

"god, i've been in love with ya for so long." atsumu laughs, like it's a relief to finally get it off his chest. "but ya nearly ripped my heart to shreds over these past two weeks."

atsumu squeezes your hand before letting it fall to your side. his own flex by his side as if to hold himself back. "(y/n), ya can insult me to yer heart's content if that's what makes ya happy, but don't dodge me like i'm the damn plague. i hate it. i really do."

atsumu picks up his tear-filled eyes; it makes your own fall even faster because you realize that this hurts him. you want to apologize, but the words are backed up in your throat. your cries steal away your ability to speak.

so you pull him in, yanking him by the drenched fabric of his hoodie and closing the distance between you two. your lips crash onto his, praying that this action is enough for him to understand. it takes a moment for atsumu to react, he's unmoving against you, and once he realizes what's happening, he relaxes. his hands fly to your neck, resting one on either side as he kisses you back.

it's carnivorous. he kisses you like he's been deprived of you. you feel how badly atsumu's been wanting this, how long he's been waiting for this day. you can barely keep up with his hunger. it's hot enough to overpower the chill that comes with the rain beating down on both of you. you'd kiss him forever if you could, but your lungs are begging for air.

when you pull away, atsumu's eyes reveal that he's in a daze, a happy one, like he just came back from soaring through the clouds. his damp hair presses onto your forehead as you both catch your breaths.

he pulls back. atsumu wears a soft grin as he admires you, even though you probably look like a wet dog. one of his hands find their way up to your cheek. you look at him expectantly. "(y/n), i want all of ya. i want yer stubborn ass attitude and yer insults. i want ya to be the only person who can bring me back down to earth. i want yer smiles and all yer laughs. i want to continue lovin' ya." he professes with complete certainty. his flowery words make you beam so brightly that it makes your cheeks hurt.

"i'll give you all of that and more." you swear. "but miya, i need you to kiss me again."

"oh? it seems like i got myself a needy princess." atsumu smirks, but he's already leaning in.

"shut up."

"gladly." atsumu agrees, pressing his lips to yours, smiles on both your faces.

you catch the flu the day after, and so does atsumu. but man, it is so, so worth it.

#anime #manga #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq angst #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu angst #⭑ — fics ⭑.ᐟ♡#♡ — hq #♡ — tsumu

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