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yanderenightmare · 8 months ago

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Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru

TW: nsfw, dubcon, kidnapping, virginity loss, curse!reader, succubus!reader, severely clueless virgin reader, born sexy yesterday reader

fem reader

“Feels like you’re luring me into some trap.” He keeps his back hunched and his hands shoved down his baggy pant pockets, sighing heartily—Satoru having a surprise never bodes well.

“Oh, come on—” named white-haired boy exclaims, in much enthusiastic contrast to his cynical counterpart—slinging a lanky arm around his slumped shoulders. “Have a little faith, birthday boy. You’re gonna like this.”

Suguru sighs again, “Somehow, I doubt it…”

The two make their way down Jujutsu High’s hall, walking past the dorms until stopping before Satoru’s door. Suguru reconsiders then—whatever it is, it can’t be so bad if he’s keeping it in his own room. And yet, the grin on his friend’s face is never something to take lightly.

He unlocks the door but holds off on opening it, instead standing before it with a grip on the handle—looking over his dark glasses at his waiting friend with a certain giddy twinkle in his eyes. “You ready?”

Suguru doesn’t know the answer to that. Part of him doesn’t care what’s behind the door, while the other part is confident he won’t like it, and yet, there’s still some soft spot inside him that tells him to go along with it anyway. Sighing a third time, he raises his hands from his pockets. “Sure…”

Satoru snickers, “Alrighty then,” and opens the door, creaking on its hinges. “Tadah—lookie what I found.”

Suguru stands before the doorway for a moment. As it had opened, a faint surge of cursed energy had waved over him—nothing to fear, yet odd nonetheless. He spots the source right away. Something on the bed. A figure. Human-like, yet not.

It’s obvious what it is, and still, he finds himself asking, “What is that?”

Satoru lumps against his back with his chin on his shoulder, “It’s your present, of course,” then pushes him inside.

He locks the door again behind him and redoes the veil, keeping their activities hidden from passersby.

“What exactly are you thinking, Satoru?” The other boy asks, apprehensive with his black eyes fixed on you—the curse on the bed, tied up with seals, squirming while looking up at the two of them. You’re no threat, but still, the question remains—why are you here?

“It’s up to you, Suguru. It’s your birthday,” the asked answers nonchalantly once returning. He gestures in the air with his hand. “You can wrap it up into one of your marbles and eat it like a birthday cake or…”

Suguru’s eyes snap to his at the suggestive tone, teetering on coquettish—no, not teetering, definitely coquettish—but no matter how shameless he is, he can’t possibly be proposing they do something like that with a curse.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Suguru,” the blue-eyed one defends with a pout. “I mean, look at it—have yah ever seen a curse so...” he continues but falls short. He chuckles lightly and deems any explanation unnecessary. “Well, you have eyes, so don’t deny it.”

Both black and blue orbs fall back on you, one still with an uncertain gaze and the other with a heavy, unashamed leer.

Suguru’s throat grows tight, and he swallows thickly to replenish, then asks, “And after?” He looks back at his friend. “You plan on just killing it?”

Satoru gives it a thought, thumbing his chin with a pout before revealing, “Maybe… Or keepin’ it…” He laughs again, taking a step closer to the bed before crouching down—his blue eyes wide and visibly terrifying to you, if the way you shuffle away is any tell. He doesn’t let it deter him, reaching out his hand to touch you anyway. “I wouldn’t mind havin’ an exotic pet. Depends on how fun this is—”

He's stopped. Hand waiting mid-air as a heavier one grabs his shoulder.

“I thought it was my present,” Suguru states from behind him.

Satoru looks up at him for a moment—first kind of annoyed, but then quickly amused. He smiles, “Well, excuse me—it sounded like you didn’t want it.” He stands up with an animated sigh. “Besides, thought you might share with your best mate since I went through all the trouble.”

He’s got this sheepish beggar’s look painted upon his face—totally unconvincing by Suguru’s judgment. Still, he caves—not so much out of sympathy, but rather because there's no way he’s doing this all by himself—in such crimes, it’s better to be accomplices in order to share the shame. And, suppose he can admit it’s more fun with the white-haired freak around…

“Fine,” he mutters for the second time that night, hoping he won’t regret it.

“Sweet,” Satoru cheers in turn. “Never had a curse before—this’ll be interesting.”

He returns to you and pulls the seal off your lips. You flinch and hold your eyes squeezed tightly shut. Your bound wrists and ankles are also freed, and still, you don’t move from where you’re huddled up in the corner of where the bed meets the walls—as far away from them as possible.

After getting a closer look at you, your obedience doesn’t surprise Suguru. Flecks of cursed blood splatter litter your skin and clothing—there must have been others before Satoru made a show of himself—no wonder you’re so scared.

“Can you talk?” said show-boating sorcerer asked.

You carefully peel your eyes open again. Lips warbling unsurely. It sort of looks as though you want to speak but don’t exactly know how. It’s to be expected with a weak curse like you.

They hadn’t expected as much, so they figured it was all the same until, “Yea-yes.”

You stutter, but still, you speak.

“That’s surprising—you’re not all that strong,” Satoru expresses. “But I guess it’s a good thing.”

Suguru can only guess what motives he has for saying that, and still, he’s quite sure he knows why—he’s always been partial to the louder ones, after all.

“My name’s Satoru, and my friend here is Suguru,” he introduces with gestures. “Don’t forget it, okay?” His eyes give warning as much as his words, no matter his playful tone. “You’re gonna do what we tell you, or I’m gonna paint the wall with you just like I did all your other friends, understand?”

Your lip trembles, and you clutch yourself closer, looking to hide yourself but recognizing you’re trapped prey for two much stronger predators. You nod your head.

“If you can talk, then say it,” the white-haired one demands—tone brisker than before, making your stomach fold and heart flinch.

“Yes, sa-Satoru.” It’s all foreign on your tongue, yet you manage—like how animals learn to swim when thrown upon the open waters.

It makes him smile, and you feel some relief in listening to him coo, “Perfect.”

The vision of your fellow curses getting squished like trampled grapes haunts you. You can tell this new sorcerer is just as strong. You don’t know what they’re after, but you know it’s best if they’re happy with you—so you aim to keep it that way.

The one asking you questions looks away toward the other one.

“Wanna do the honors, birthday boy, or should I?”

He seems to be contemplating something before calmly deciding. “I’ll eat it first. Then it’ll be bound to me and won’t struggle.”

“Smart—though that is some of the fun,” your original capturer responds with lackluster, then shrugs. “But it’s your birthday, you decide.”

The raven-haired one raises a hand, energy building within his palm. “I have. So don’t pout—”

Eat it? Do they mean you? You feel the pull of something sucking you from your safe spot. “Wah-wait! Don’t—don’t eat me, please!” you squeal with lifted hands, first flat with sprung fingers in surrender, then clasped together as you take a deep bow with your forehead buried in the plume. “I-I’ll listen! I’ll be a good-good curse, I promise! Please!”

Both sorcerers’ are stumped by the display. It’s an odd declaration for a curse. Of course, you could be a ploy, yet they sense absolutely zero hostility.

Satoru looks at his friend with puppy-dog eyes, whispering to him in low and needy little whimpers, all laced with awe, “Oh, come on, Suguru. Can’t it wait? You can always eat it after, right? Look at it—it won’t fight.”

Suguru grinds his teeth, but even he can’t deny he’s curious now. He huffs and lowers his arm, “Fine. But if you fail to obey even a single command, I won’t hesitate to eat you on the spot.”

You raise your head, pretty grateful tears in your eyes—an even odder sight from a curse. “Oh-okay… Su-Suguru… thank you.”

It’s utterly embarrassing and even somewhat horrifying, but the way his name trembles off of your tongue all sweetly like that is enough to make him blush. He steals himself in spite of it. You’re still a curse—nothing worth going easy on.

“Strip,” he commands.

You tilt your head at the word, eyes round and brows cinched. “Strip?”

Satoru comes to the rescue—overwhelmed with your cuteness as he’d been since he first saw you, unable to harm even a hair on your head. “It’s just a wittle curse, Suguru—you can’t expect it to understand everything you say. We gotta use simple terms.”

If he could, he’d like to undress you himself, but he agrees that there’s some pleasure to be found in watching you do so for them.

He gives you a reassuring look and a somewhat kind smile. “He means take off your clothes.”

“Oh... okay.” You light up upon understanding, hoping not to anger them. You don’t ask why. You just listen, balling your dress at the hips and lifting it up and off over your head—leaving you bare.

“Is that what I think it is?” Suguru utters, eyes zoned in on your lower belly and the pink markings there—swirled symbols mocking the shape of a winged heart right atop your womb.

“It sure looks like it,” Satoru whistles in turn. “How lucky are we, huh?”

Their conversation goes over your head—just as most of what they say. Part of you is still wary that they’re going to eat you—undressing would make that easier for them, wouldn’t it? Maybe you’d just fallen right into their trap…

You blink when spotting them getting undressed, too. Maybe it’s some type of ritual? You wouldn’t know…

Once they’re both naked, your throat tightens, and your gut stirs with an ache of sorts—you wouldn’t know why as to that either, but you rub your thighs together in hopes it would soothe it. But no, it blooms instead into a hunger the more you look, and the black of your eyes bleed out into a pool deep enough to get lost in. You don’t even notice you're drooling. All you know is that they’re getting closer, and your skin simmers for their touch.

And still, you’re confused once you’re on your back with the raven-haired one looming above you. Breathing heavily, you gasp with the spring of a moan once his fingers trace the pulsing glow of your pink marking. You’ve never seen it do that before—it’s a little scary.

“Ah—what—what are you doing?” Half of you wishes to nudge his hand away—it’s so sensitive—and yet, the other half wants nothing but to succumb to it, plead for more. It’s confusing.

“Oh? How can you be a succubus and not know?” he asks calmly, teasingly now with a sympathy he lacked before.

You’re so hot—you’re burning—something’s wet—between your thighs—it pulses on time with your mark. His hand moves down toward it—the feeling intensifies, and your breath flares, quickens, and stutters in your chest. It feels good, but it also feels…

“That feels weird—” you protest with no amount of conviction, rather just in a statement.

“But you like it,” he argues, also more in a statement. Nursing you through the doubt with sweetly slow strokes.

It’s good that he took the reins before Satoru—he wouldn’t be this considerate.

“Don’t worry, pretty curse,” he soothes, sliding his digits through the wet, then slipping two within—inside you—into some spot that makes your toes curl. “I’ll help you find your purpose.”

“Ah!” you squeal—wide swivel-eyed and panting, staring at his ministrations—where he pumps you on his knuckles and how you weep with fluid. What’s going on?

“How does that feel?” he purrs and presses a thumb down on the drumming pearl crowning the mouth—as though it were a button to push and have you unlock.

Suguru watches as your eyes morph—pupils going from round black to glowing pink hearts.

It feels… it feels… “Good… so good—please, give me more.”

You don’t have to beg them twice.

You know heaven for curses doesn’t exist, but you think you’ve just stumbled upon a loophole.

“I can’t believe she’s taking us both—” Suguru stutters as he jerks his hips up into the downy softness of your ass, burying himself deep alongside the other.

“Well—she’s made for it, ain’t she?” Satoru whimpers in turn.

They both hold your thighs up, having you folded in half, lifted between them—your back resting against the broad warmth of Suguru’s chest, with Satoru in front of you—both stuffing your gushing hole as one.

“More—more...” you blubber—heart eyes half-mast and mouth apart in dewy breaths.

Satoru knows you’re a curse, but he can’t help himself, feeling your hands cling to his back, holding on tightly—he knows you’re a curse, but he leans in and kisses you anyway.

And it’s sweet—sweet like candy. Your spit and your tongue—his new favorite syrup. He can’t stop—feeding you the entire length of his tongue in need to explore your mouth, drink you up—feeling desperately parched without it.

The sight makes Suguru’s gut fizzle. It’s so wrong, yet it feels so right. He thinks he’ll cum soon, but he doesn’t want to—he wants to keep going.

“I’m gonna—” Satoru whines as he breaks for air.

“Me too—” Suguru groans in turn.

They jitter, spines aligned and pulsing with each other—filling you up with a mixture of both.

It’s a feeling like none other for all three of you—euphoric and transcendent—you think you might die from the pleasure, feeling the crushing weight of paradise dawn on you in rapids.

You all collapse on the bed next to each other, you in the middle. They don’t take themselves out, and you prefer it that way—you fear the loneliness if they would. Right now, it’s warm. You’d like to stay there forever.

“I’m sorry…” Suguru apologizes suddenly—much to your confusion until you see him raise his palm like before. “But this is for the best.”

Weakened, you’re warped into the pretty confines of a pink marble within just a second. He holds you for a moment, feeling somewhat guilty, but doesn’t waste long before swallowing you up—down his throat until settling neatly in the prison of his stomach.

Satoru doesn’t look surprised. After all, Suguru’s right—it is for the best. He can’t exactly keep you in his room forever without discovery. This way, you’re kept safe from other sorcerers as well as just a call away from them whenever they wish to see you.

“What’ she taste like?” he asks nonchalantly.

The birthday boy licks his lips and then smiles. “Like cake.”

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ GETO SUGURU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

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03jyh23 · 8 months ago

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🩶⌇nights like these┆choi san

established relationship, idol!san x gn!reader

│synopsis: the one where you are san's priority

│genre: hurt/comfort

│trigger warnings: descriptions of chronic illness, pain, nausea, and emotional distress

│words: 2.4 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! this one is a requested work that is very important to me! the person who requested it shared their struggles with me, so i put a lot of care and effort into writing this piece. i hope it brings them comfort and resonates with anyone else going through similar challenges. thank you for trusting me with your story. ♡

love, monika ♡

you: sannie, im sorry but im not gonna make it tonight, have fun! love you x

You barely typed out the message and leaned deeper into the soft pillows. You hated feeling that way, feeling completely out of control of your own body. It was as if your own flesh and bones had turned against you, conspiring to ruin the moments you had been looking forward to. Another rush of nausea hit you, stronger this time, and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around yourself, trying to find some semblance of comfort. The persistent and haunting question lingered in your mind: Why were you so out of control? You wished you could muster the strength to push through, to be by San's side, but tonight, your body had other plans. You were helpless against a body that sabotaged all your important plans. You wanted the energy to be with San, to support him and not to disappoint the person you loved yet again, but tonight, you knew there was nothing you could do to feel better. You just needed to lay through it

After all this time of having this health problem, you learned just how to live with it, so since early morning you tried to push the symptoms aside, focusing on getting ready. It was a routine you had perfected—ignoring the pain, the nausea, the overwhelming fatigue. You had become a master of disguise, hiding your struggles behind a cheerful facade. But tonight, even your best efforts weren't enough.

Usually, you would go about with your day, that's why you were currently lying flat on your bed dressed in that pretty outfit San bought for you especially for tonight, all ready to go and celebrate with him. Just as you were about to leave, the usual symptoms hit you with the power of a train. It was as if your body had chosen this exact moment to remind you of its frailty, to assert its dominance over your will. Tonight was supposed to be different. Tonight, you were supposed to be standing beside San, holding his hand and cheering for him. You had been looking forward to this night for weeks, planning every detail. The thought of disappointing him weighed heavily on you, maybe even heavier than the nausea. You knew how much it meant to him to have you there, and the guilt gnawed at you from the inside.

A burning stomach pain flared up, adding to the discomfort. It felt as though your insides were on fire, each wave of pain more intense than the last. You clutched your stomach, curling up tighter, wishing for some relief. The pain was relentless, a cruel reminder of the battle you were fighting within your own body. It was moments like these when you felt most defeated, most vulnerable.

"Baby?" you opened your heavy eyes only to see San kneeling beside the bed, eye level with you. You didn't even notice you had fallen asleep. His eyes were filled with concern, his short, black hair was styled back, making him look incredibly elegant. He wore a white shirt with the first few buttons casually unbuttoned. His eye makeup was minimal, with just a hint of eyeliner to accentuate his eyes, exactly the way you always liked it. He must have rushed out straight from his dressing room, you thought as you blinked a few times to get rid of the tiredness.

"Sannie? What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

San reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"I just had a feeling that today is rough on you. You didn't reply to any of my calls, so I rushed home," he said softly, his voice filled with concern and love. "I couldn't just leave you here alone," he said softly. "I wanted to be here for you."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't want to ruin your night," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion.

San shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Hey, don't say that. You could never ruin my night. I just want to be here with you, make sure you're okay," he reassured, his hand gently stroking your head. Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, overwhelmed by his kindness.

"I just hate feeling like this, being a burden," you admitted, your voice trembling.

San’s expression softened even more. His fingers traced the few tears that managed to escape your eyes, then he kissed your forehead whispering, "You never are nor never will be a burden." You closed your eyes, feeling the gentle touch of his soft lips against your skin, a tingling warmth spreading through you. The tension in your muscles began to melt away as San’s fingers traced soothing patterns along your arm. You took a deep breath, allowing the warmth of his presence to envelop you. The pain and nausea, though still present, seemed to fade into the background as you focused on the steady rhythm of his touch.

"But the party?" you mumbled out, "The boys must be so disappointed."

San shook his head gently, his expression softening even more. "Don't worry about them right now. The boys understood, and Hongjoong reassured me it was all good. What's important is that we take care of you," he said soothingly, his fingers continuing to trace comforting patterns on your arm.

"Thank you, Sannie," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "For being here."

He kissed your forehead again, lingering a bit longer this time. "Of course, my love. Always," he whispered back, his breath warm against your skin. You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it eased some of the guilt that had been weighing you down. "Can you stand up? We need to get you in something comfortable first," San suggested gently, his hands ready to help you. You nodded weakly, grateful for his help as he eased you out of the outfit and into something more comfortable.

"Is it any better now that you've slept for a while?" he asked, his voice filled with gentle concern as he rearranged the pillows on the bed. He brought an extra blanket, knowing you would likely get cold.

"A little," you admitted, your voice still weak but filled with gratitude. "But I can feel the migraine creeping in slowly," you added, your voice tinged with fatigue and frustration.

San nodded, his brow furrowing slightly with worry. "I'll get your medication and some water," he said, standing up to fetch the items.

"I don't think I can take the medications," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "It feels like if I swallow anything, I would just rush to the toilet."

San paused, his eyes filled with concern. "Okay, let's not push it then," he said softly, returning to your side. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to rest your head on his shoulder. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, a soothing rhythm that started to calm your racing thoughts. He began drawing gentle patterns on your back, a gesture that always made you relax, his touch tender.

You breathed in his cologne and felt your stomach clenching. The scent, usually comforting and familiar, now seemed overwhelming to your already sensitive senses. You backed out from his arms, holding a hand to your face to stave off the wave of nausea that threatened to overtake you. San looked at you with wide eyes, his brows furrowing slightly in confusion and concern before it hit him. "Love, I'm so sorry, it's the perfume? Too strong? I'm gonna change," he said hurriedly, already moving towards the closet to find something else to wear.

"It's okay, Sannie," you mumbled, trying to muster a reassuring smile. "I just need a moment."

But San had already swapped his formal shirt for something more comfortable and less scented. He returned to your side, "Better now?" he asked softly, his eyes searching for any sign of relief.

You only nodded, and he took your hand, guiding you to the bed. "You are babying me too much," you mumbled as you followed in his steps, your voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and mild embarrassment.

San shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Hm...." he scoffed dramatically, "I think I don't baby you enough, though?"

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh despite the pain and discomfort you were feeling. San's dramatic tone and exaggerated expression brought a moment of lightness to an otherwise heavy night. "Really?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him, trying to match his playful energy.

"Absolutely," he replied with a grin, sitting down beside you. "Now, let's get you settled." You settled back into the bed, feeling a bit more at ease with San by your side. The pain and nausea were still there, but somehow, with his presence, they seemed a little more bearable. "Do you need me to bring something?" San asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You shook your head slightly, feeling the weight of his love and care enveloping you. "Just stay here with me, that's all I need," you whispered.

"Alright, I will just put the curtains in case the migraine hits," he said as he quickly darted through the room to the windows. You watched him with tired eyes, the room dimmed as he drew the curtains, blocking out the harsh light that often worsened your migraines. The soft, muted light that remained was much gentler on your senses.

San returned to your side, his movements gentle and deliberate, as if he were afraid of causing you any more discomfort. "Scoot over," San said softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips. You shifted slightly, making room for him on the bed. He carefully climbed in beside you, wrapping his arms around you.

"Thank you for being so patient with me. I really needed you tonight," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude.

San held you a little tighter, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what," he murmured softly. San was drawing small circles on your back, your face buried in his chest. Your eyes were heavy, the migraine setting in, and you could feel the pressure building behind your temples. The gentle, rhythmic motion of his hand was soothing, a small comfort amidst the pain and discomfort, allowing you to relax slightly despite the throbbing in your head.

Just as you began to drift off to sleep, your body started trembling uncontrollably. The sudden tremors jarred you awake, and you felt a wave of panic wash over you. San immediately noticed, his grip tightening around you in a protective embrace.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here," he whispered, his voice steady and calming. He gently rubbed your back, trying to soothe your body. "Just breathe, love. I'm right here with you." You focused on his voice, on the warmth of his presence, trying to steady your breath. The trembling slowly began to subside, and you clung to San, feeling a mixture of fear and relief. "Are you feeling dizzy again? Like the last time?" San asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You nodded weakly, the dizziness making it hard to focus on anything. "Yeah, it's just... everything is spinning," you managed to whisper, clutching onto him. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing as San's presence provided a comforting anchor. The room seemed to tilt and spin, but his calming voice and gentle touch helped you stay grounded. "I'm sorry, San," you murmured, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you.

San shook his head, his expression filled with love and reassurance. "Don't apologize, my love. You can't control this, and I'm here to help you through it," he murmured softly. "I will keep you safe," he whispered, his voice filled with unwavering determination and love. "Just rest," he murmured softly. "I'll be right here with you." You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you under. San's hand continued to trace soothing patterns on your back, his touch gentle and reassuring. Gradually, your breathing steadied, and you found yourself relaxing into his embrace.

As you drifted in and out of sleep, you could feel San's steady heartbeat beneath your cheek, a rhythm that grounded you. Hours passed in a blur of half-conscious moments and deep, dreamless sleep. Every time you stirred, San was there, his presence a steady source of comfort and love. You could feel his fingers brushing through your hair, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your head. He held you through the worst of it, never once leaving your side.

When you finally woke, the pain had dulled to a manageable throb, and the nausea had receded enough for you to sit up slightly. San was still there, his eyes filled with concern and relief as he saw you stir.

"Hey," he said softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he looked at you with concern. "How are you feeling?"

You took a deep breath, assessing your condition and trying to gather your thoughts. "A bit better," you admitted, your voice still weak but more stable than before. The remnants of fatigue lingered, but you felt a small spark of improvement.

"I'm glad to hear that," San replied, his smile growing a bit wider with relief. "Do you think you can eat something light? Maybe some broth or a bit of toast?"

You nodded slowly, appreciating his care and the gentle way he always seemed to know what you needed. "I think I could try," you said, feeling a bit more hopeful at the thought of eating something.

"Alright, let me order something, hm?" San said, giving you a reassuring smile as he gently helped you sit up against the pillows, adjusting them to make sure you were comfortable.

"Thank you, Sannie," you whispered, feeling a surge of gratitude for his unending support and the way he always put your well-being first.

San smiled warmly, his eyes filled with love and tenderness. "Anything for you, my love," he said, placing a soft kiss on your lips, his touch gentle and comforting. As he reached for his phone to place the order, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude and love for having someone like San by your side, through thick and thin.

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keen-li · 1 year ago

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A/n: just a little quickie

Military au

....

I brought you some of your favourite cookies I made" you smile warmly at the man in uniform infront of you. You stretch out the little bag showing him how much effort you put into bagging the goods.

And as he opens the contents of the bag, he admires the effort you also put into making it. You didn't have to, he told you this before, but you did and he appreciates it still . He knows it's one of your ways of showing him you care and love him. Plus you wouldn't listen even if he told you.

Back home you and him always made these little cookies with weired faces on them. "The weirder the face the sweeter they are" you'd say smiling like a child as you drew onto a cookie.

He'd just stare at you and admire the energy you put into it.

"I think that's very true considering how sweet you are" he says wrapping his arms around you to trap you from moving. When what he said registers you gasp

"Hey!!!" You yell and try to move in his grip but fail. He finds it amusing, cause you can't do anything and he has you trapped, that's why he did it so he can hear you whine and complain.

"Are you saying I have a weird face?" You whine energy wearing out. Jungkook let's out a chuckle and your face scrunches up in faux anger.

"Not really..." he starts "but sometimes" he moves he's head around as if pondering on times when he thought your face was weird. Of course he doesn't think your face is weird, he loves your face; loves to place many tiny kisses on it and loves watching your expressions change according to what your thinking. You also know that he doesn't think your face is weird, you just play along cause you know that's how you tease each other.

You elbow hum lightly and his wall falters and you're set free. You immediately turn to start placing tiny (unharmful) slaps on his chest.

"Sometimes when huh?" You egg on and you continue to slap his chest, his very hard chest that's not affected by your weak blows.

"Like now" He says through your hits and at his words you throw a heavier slap that echos in your quiet shared apartment.

You pause fearing you've crossed a boundary. Yes he's your boyfriend and you've been together a while but you're still kind of afraid of crossing boundaries, especially the ones you are unaware of. Jungkook notices the little pout on your face and knows what you're thinking, he doesn't know how many times he's going to tell that there's no blow that you can hit him with that's gonna hurt him, unless you kick him in the nuts.

"Hey that's all you've got?" He acts mockingly trying to lighten the mood, and with the scoff you let out he knows you know that he doesn't mind.

"I outta take you to the gym, your punches are kinda disappointing" you chuckle at him as you turn back to your cookies.

"i don't need the gym, I walk enough stairs and carry enough files at work" your wrist rolls as you draw your weird faces.

"And how do those things help with you learning to throw a good punch" he wraps his arms around your waist and closes the space between. Your stomach does a little flip as you feel his closeness, it feels like the first time everytime he does that. You hope he never stops.

"I don't need to learn to throw a punch..." you bend a little to get the right angle for the face you're making and as you do you brush against jungkook and he can't help but groan.

"...I have you" he can hear the smile and confidence in your voice. He's happy that you find confidence and safety in him, but he's not always gonna be around and those moments make him sick. Sometimes he wishes he could become a diety so that he can watch over you and protect you, but its not a fairytale and he knows he can't always be around. He always tries to make you understand that but you always take it as a joke. He doesn't know this but you do understand him and where he's coming from but you're just avoiding the reality of things.

"I won't always be around" his voice softens as he breath brushes past your neck and his head is quite heavy on your shoulder.

"Oh yeah? And where are you gonna go?" You say wanting to bring up the topic you've both been avoiding but needs to be had.

"The military?" You finish for him knowing he's not gonna say it. You chuckle at the little sigh he lets out.

Your bodies disconnect and you regret bringing it up,the cold of the apartment finally getting to you. You know he isn't mad, its just hard to have serious conversations when your ass keeps brushing past his growing hard-on.

He goes to stand on the opposite side of the island sighing as if ready to have the conversation. Your demeanour becomes a little more serious and your face falls as you hope you don't cry. You're the one who brought it up anyways, but it's good, you need to face this.

"Do you think you'll be okay" his soft voice airs out.

You sigh and hope your tears don't fall and salten the cookies. You don't have an answer for him, you've never had the answer to that question. You can only hope.

"I hope I'll be okay" your voice fades out quite early at the end.

Jungkook knows its gonna be hard for the both of you. Sometimes he wishes he'd met you after he'd already served but that's not possible. He's glad he met you before though, gives him a reason to complete the service, come back home and now actually start life with you; like proposing. He wanted to propose to you before he left but he's mother told him he should do it after and he agrees. Proposing to you before he leaves feels like he's tying you to him and making and forcing you wait for him. He doesn't want to make you feel obligated to wait for him.

"You can move on you know" you roll your eyes once you hear him, you hated when he said stupid things and he often did when he got sentimental.

"Jungkook please" you chuckle "move on?"

You lift your eyes and they meet his doe ones, he should really hear how silly he sounds.

"Yeah, I don't want to make you feel tied to me. You you can move on find some dude who's already done his service and start the life you want" even though it leaves a burning bitter taste on his tongue and heart, he says it anyways. He doesn't even mean a single word, if he could he'd take you with him or he wouldn't even go.

You don't even react to him, knowing he's just spewing nonsense.

"And you'd be okay with that me starting a life with someone else?"

No. Of course not. He'd rip the dude's head off once he found him.

"If it's what you want" you can hear the lies through his tone and demeanour. You know jungkook wouldn't want that, he hates the idea and you know it would kill him cause it kills you too.

"You're acting like you're going away forever" you force a smile, it isn't forever but even a day away from him feels like eternity, what more him being away for months?

You hear him release a chuckle.

"Plus I've given you 4 years of my life, why would I throw that away. Its not like when you leave I'll stop loving you. Yeah I will miss you, yes I will cry but its not gonna hurt so bad that'd I'd want to move on or find someone else"

He listens to you and is happy you feel like that cause he does too, he could honestly just propose to you now but he'll still do it after.

"Babyy" he coos. He stands and walks up to you, immediately turning you around and capturing your cheeks with his palms. It's the first time he's heard how you feel about it, but in all honesty it's the first time you've just talked about it. There's still more to talk about but today's a good start.

"I'm going to miss you soooo much" he places a peck on your lips and you place your hands on his waist.

"I'll think about you everyday, I'll go through everyday knowing I'm a day closer to coming back to you. I'll do this so I can come back to you an we can make all the weird faced cookies of yours"

He kisses you softly again. You just lean into his kiss.

"Promise me something jungkook" your lips are only millimetres from his.

"Yeah baby"

"Don't think about me too much okay" you stroke his sides more to comfort yourself,those tears you've been holding are making their way. Jungkook holds you tighter noticing.

"I can't do that. I don't like lying"

And the flood gates open. This is gonna be harder than you thought.

The smell of the sweet cookies makes jungkook smile and he's already blushed cheek blush more. He pulls one out.

He let's out a laugh.

"Kept the weird faces huh?" he smiles and takes a bite, tastes like comfort and everything's he's been missing.

"Why would I change them. Told you the weirder the sweeter" you speak happiness in your tone cause you've finally gotten to see him. You grab a cookie from the bag and take a bite aswell. After having a couple more he rolls up the bags and packs it.

"I should hide these before someone else wants some" you chuckle at his words. Jungkook isn't the most generous when it comes to the things you make for him and he's not afraid to admit that.

"Not even one?" You mock.

"Nope. They can go tell their girlfriends to do that." He adjusts his uniform that you've been admiring him in. "But most of the guys don't have girlfriends so that's a shame for them" you both laugh.

"How's your friend jimin." You ask suddenly remembering him. Jungkook's surprised you remember him but again how can you forget the person you made you two start dating.

"He's okay. Been kicking his ass in training though" he pats himself on the shoulder with his tone.

"Take it easy on him," you try an bargain for jimin.

"There's no time for nursery care here baby" he stretches his hand out for you to take it and you do.

"Want me to show you my room?" He says pulling you towards a building. He feels your hesitation and turns to you with a lifted brow.

"Am I even allowed there?" You bite your inner cheek.

"Yeah I can get permission if you want though."

You'd prefer he gets permission first you don't need him in trouble. And so you nod which hums to.

You start walk to jungkook's superior's office.

"Did I tell you how strong your hand feels" you say admiring the veins on his hands and the way he holds your hand for dear life.

"Is it?" He squeezes your hand slightly.

"Yep, gonna put them to work when you get back home" you rejoice swinging his arm.

"Is working ever gonna end for me?" He whines.

"Nope.Never"

486 notes · View notes

lettucing · 5 months ago

Text

look of love, rush of blood | chapter two

words: ~4.1k | pairing: jschlatt x she/her, afab reader

summary: Thanks to a not-so-subtle push from your roommate, Joelle, you find yourself crossing paths with Schlatt once again.

notes: ITS FINALLY HERE!! my apologies for taking 5ever, this chapter was originally going to be WAY longer but i wasn't getting it done as fast as i expected to so i decided to split it up into two parts and post them separately. chapter three is gonna go up super soon!!!! <33 (p.s. my apologies for any typos/mistakes, i proofread this thing so many times they probably started going over my head towards the end)

⭑

You’re pulled from sleep by a knock on your door, muffled but persistent.

Before you have a chance to roll over and pretend you didn’t hear it, Joelle’s voice filters through, cheerful and impossible to ignore. You groan, glancing at the alarm clock reading 10:54 AM, before dragging yourself from the tangle of your sheets, last night's drinks still lingering in your head. “Shit.” You think, mentally kicking yourself for sleeping in so late. You’re still half-dreaming when you finally turn the handle and open the door, squinting against the sunlight streaming in from the hallway.

Joelle stands there beaming, a small box of donuts held up like a prize, her eyes sparkling with energy— a vivid contrast to your groggy state. “Ta-daaa!” she says, flipping open the box. “And there’s iced coffee waiting in the kitchen. Don’t say I never spoil you.” Despite the haze of sleep, you smile, following her to the kitchen. “Donuts and coffee? I love you so much.”

You settle in at your small dining table as she nudges a donut, frosted in your favorite color and covered with sprinkles, toward you. “This one’s yours.” she says, watching as you take a bite. You chuckle, mouth half-full. “What’s with the royal treatment? Are you buttering me up to tell me you’re moving out?” Joelle laughs, a mischievous glint in her eye. “No, but... I did make a little move of sorts last night. You might have a couple missed texts from a certain someone awaiting a response.”

Thoroughly suspicious now, you head back to your room, reaching for your phone to scroll through notifications that piled up during Do Not Disturb mode. Emails, Instagram updates, messages… Among the usual chaos and random alerts, one stack of notifications stands out—three texts from a number you don’t recognize.

(2h ago) xxx-xxx-xxxx: hey, y/n xxx-xxx-xxxx: it’s schlatt xxx-xxx-xxxx: i got your number from ted from joelle, hope that’s okay

Your stomach flips.

Oh. Oh my god.

You walk back into the kitchen to face Joelle, who smiles sheepishly. "Ted mentioned he thought Schlatt might regret not getting your number. I just… gave him a little nudge to make it happen."

You blink, still processing what she just said. Joelle’s expression shifts to looking genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry if that was too much, but from what I saw and what I heard from Ted, you two were totally hitting it off at the bar last night. It seemed like a missed opportunity if I didn’t.” You’re torn between being mildly annoyed and unexpectedly flattered. “All i did was spill a drink in his lap.” you mutter, still staring at the texts from Schlatt.

Joelle leans forward in her chair. “Well, clearly it was something more than that to him. And now you’ve got a chance to find out what. So… are you going to reply, or are you just going to leave him hanging?”

You glance back at the messages on your phone, the words “hope that’s okay” echoing in your mind. The temptation to text him back was strong, but your heart races at the thought of it.

“Do you really think I should?” you ask, unsure whether to be thrilled or terrified. “Oh absolutely.” Joelle says with an enthusiastic nod. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You take a deep breath, the phone in your hand suddenly feeling heavier than it should. The last thing you need is to come off as too eager or weird, but at the same time, there’s a part of you that’s excited over the idea of picking up where the night left off with Schlatt.

After composing yourself, you type out a response and save his number.

you: oh hey! yeah, that’s totally okay, no worries :)

You hit send, your heart still racing as you set the phone down. For a moment there’s only silence, the sound of your and Joelle’s breathing along with the distant buzz of the city outside your window providing a strange comfort. You can’t help but recall your interactions with Schlatt from the bar last night– he was charismatic and funny, with just the right amount of playful arrogance that made it clear he was teasing in good fun. Not to mention he was absolutely gorgeous— those broad shoulders, those warm brown eyes…

What was he feeling right now? Is he nervous? Is he as intrigued by you as you are by him?

Just then, your phone buzzes again, jolting you from your thoughts. Joelle cheers. “Aaah! See, he already texted you back!”

Schlatt: awesome. Schlatt: how are you? Schlatt: hungover?

You smile, shifting in your chair as you glance at Joelle, who beams at you in return. The conversation with Schlatt picks up effortlessly, flowing just like it had the night before.

You: i’m good! hangover’s looming a bit, but it’s not enough to keep me in bed, LOL You: joelle woke me up with donuts You: you?

Schlatt: damn. some house guests i have, i didn’t wake up to donuts. Schlatt: i’m good though, i don’t really get hungover

You: oh. lucky you, i guess 😒

Schlatt: yeah, guess so 🫅

You: 🙄 You: anyways…

Schlatt: anyways... what? got anything fun planned for today?

You: honestly, not really. might go for a walk, maybe catch up on some work stuff. nothing exciting.

Schlatt: sounds like a solid plan. i’m doin the same, stayin out of trouble for once.

You: yeah, right. I think we both know that’s not true

Schlatt: fair point. i’ll probably end up in brooklyn robbing a bodega at gunpoint for youtube content

You: oh wow. willing to die for your craft, i respect it

Schlatt: you know it

You: well, enjoy your trouble then. i’ll be over here trying to be a responsible adult

Schlatt: responsible adult? sounds boring

You: yeah. definitely boring.

Schlatt: well maybe we gotta find you a new hobby then. you have an office job, that shit’s depressing

You: hey, it’s not thaaaaat bad

The use of "we" in his message sends a strange flutter through your chest. It feels casual, but there’s something about it that makes your heart beat a little faster.

You set your phone down, glancing over at Joelle, who’s barely holding back her grin. "What?" you ask again, half-laughing. She leans back in her chair, clearly enjoying the moment. "Just enjoying the show. It’s cute, you know, how you’re trying to play it cool." You roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips gives you away. “Don’t give me that look,” she teases. “It’s obvious you’re into him. No need to pretend otherwise.” You take a deep breath, leaning against the table as you glance back at your phone. The message from Schlatt still lingers on the screen, his playful challenge hanging in the air. You're not sure why, but something about this feels different, more than just a random flirtation or passing interest.

"Okay, fine," you say, breaking the silence. "Maybe I am a little into him. But I’m not jumping into anything, alright?" Joelle raises her hands. "I'm not entirely suggesting any jumping. But, just so you know, I think he’s got potential." You sigh, trying not to smile at her overzealous enthusiasm. "You’re terrible, you know that?" She shrugs innocently, shit eating grin plastered on her face. "If by terrible you mean ‘helping you get with the potential man of your dreams’, then yes, I do know that."

Your phone buzzes again, snapping you back to the conversation at hand. You glance down at the screen, and a small grin tugs at your lips.

Schlatt: yeah. “that” bad. Schlatt: i’m taking this as a challenge. I could totally make responsible adulthood a little more interesting

Your heart skips a beat. You glance at Joelle, who’s already reading from the seat next to you, waiting for your reaction. Without thinking, you type a response and hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

You: yeah i bet. let’s see what you’ve got

Joelle lets out a small cheer, clearly thrilled by your response. "Look at you, taking the plunge." she says, a teasing tone in her voice.

You glance at your phone one more time, wondering if you just made a huge mistake—or if, maybe, it would be the start of something amazing.

⭑

The rest of your weekend flew by all too fast. The texts from Schlatt come more often now, slipping seamlessly into the rhythm of your daily life. At first, you felt a little nervous, wondering if you were reading too much into it. But soon, you realized he wasn’t just texting you for the sake of it— he genuinely seemed interested, and you couldn’t help but feel the same. It’s not a constant barrage of texts, but there’s a steady stream; lighthearted banter, jokes about your attempts to be a ‘responsible adult,’ and more than a few playful digs at each other’s habits. The conversations flow easily, like you’ve known each other much longer than just a few days. The pressure to impress fades, replaced by something more natural— talking for the sake of talking, sharing small moments and mundane details. The kind of banter you’d have with a friend, but with a hint of something more beneath the surface. The casualness of it all makes you feel a little lighter, more at ease. There’s no pressure, no rush, just two people chatting about whatever comes to mind. You realize, somewhere between the light teasing and the late-night message exchanges, that you’ve gotten used to his presence in your day— his humor, his attention, the way he manages to make you laugh without even trying. It felt… right.

By Wednesday, the texting had become a part of your routine.

Your work day drags on until, finally, it’s time to clock out. You walk home through crisp autumn air, the fading sunlight casting a warm orange glow over the city, wrapping you in its familiar hum. The city you loved was alive, but in this moment, it felt peaceful— like you were in your own little world.

You had been home for about an hour when you heard the front door open. You turn to see Joelle, eyes wide with excitement, stepping in from work. "Y/N! Oh my god! I have news!" She kicks the door shut behind her, tosses her purse and jacket onto a dining chair, and plops down on the couch next to you. "Hi, first of all." she says, pulling you into a quick hug. "I hope you had a good day. Second of all, look!” She flips her phone around to show you a text she received from Ted.

TED<33: Hey! A bunch of work friends are here in NYC for a Twitch event and we thought it would be fun to throw a lil get-together for everyone at Schlatt’s place on Friday. We’d love it if you and Y/N came as well :)

You blink, surprised. "Oh wow.” Joelle nods, her excitement palpable. “I know, right?”

Your heart flutters in your chest thinking about seeing Schlatt again, and you knew Joelle had been dying to spend more time with Ted. How could you refuse? You take a deep breath, trying to mask the sudden rush of excitement that floods your chest. "Sure, why not?" you say, a smile beginning to form on your face.

Joelle grins, practically bouncing in her seat. "Yes! I knew you’d say yes!" She leans in, volume dropping. "At least I was hoping you would, ‘cuz I may have already started mentally picking out an outfit. No pressure, but I’m ready to turn heads. And by heads, I mean Ted’s head."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I’ll try to keep up with you."

As Joelle practically skips off to her room to sift through her closet, you find yourself glancing at your phone. All of your messages with Schlatt are still fresh in your mind, and the idea of seeing him again makes your stomach flip in a way you can’t quite explain. It’ll be fine– It’s just a party, right?

You let out a breath, shaking off the nerves as you pick up your phone and type out a message to him.

You: so You: a party, huh?

You get a reply within minutes.

Schlatt: stupid fuckin ted doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, i was gonna invite you myself Schlatt: but yeah. I figured it would be nice to invite all my buddies over while they’re all in ny Schlatt: you comin’?

You: oh yeah, i’ll be there You: joelle wouldn’t go without me, and how could i deny her the chance to see ted again?

Schlatt: god dude he never shuts up about her

You: yeah she never shuts up about him either You: it’s cute tho

Schlatt: yeah. “cute” Schlatt: more like makes me wanna rip my skin off

You: jealous?

Schlatt: hardly.

You: uh huh, sure You: just admit it, you’re secretly a softie

Schlatt: no chance in hell

You: if you say so! You: anyway. what’s the predicted vibe for this party

Schlatt: probably just a bunch of youtubers getting drunk and being loud, you know the usual Schlatt: but i’m sure it’ll be fun

You: oh wow, sounds like a blast You: honestly i’m a little nervous to be around so many ppl i don’t know, but at least i’ll have a good excuse to drink, LMAO

Schlatt: that’s the spirit.

You: what time should we be there?

Schlatt: official time 8 but u can show up whenever, ted will probably text you guys 20 times before then asking when you’re coming though, lol

You: he’s funny. You: well, guess i’ll see you friday at 8?

Schlatt: hell yeah.

Setting your phone down, you smile. You’ll be seeing him again, in person, and that thought has you feeling unexpectedly giddy. You wonder what it’ll be like—if the easy banter you have over text will translate to the real thing. On top of that, there’s the thought of being around so many new people you’ve never met, adding a layer of nerves you can’t quite shake. But maybe it’s better not to overthink it. It’s just a party, and it’s just Schlatt.

"Just Schlatt." you think, the words echoing in your mind. If you’re honest, it’s starting to feel like so much more than just Schlatt.

The two days leading up to the party felt like an eternity, anticipation building up in your stomach like a ticking time bomb of nerves. By Friday afternoon, you were practically buzzing in your seat at work, waiting for the time you could finally leave and start getting ready for the party. You’ve already checked your phone more times than you’d like to admit, hoping for another text from Schlatt that might ease the suspense, or at least give you something to laugh about— but you were met with radio silence. You assume he’s busy preparing to host, but that doesn’t stop your nerves from creeping in. To distract yourself, you turn to outfit options, sifting through your closet until you find something that feels just right—casual, but still nice, adaptable to whatever vibe the other guests might bring.

You’re in the bathroom just starting on your makeup when you hear the front door swing open and Joelle’s excited footsteps coming down the hall. “Hey, Jelly!” you call out, peeking through the cracked bathroom door. Joelle appears in the doorway, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Heyyy, love the outfit! You ready for tonight?” You smile, a tinge of nervousness peaking through. “I mean… I guess? Not like I really have a choice, right?” She grins. “Nope!”

⭑

Forty-five minutes later, you and Joelle are stepping out onto the sidewalk, feeling a rush of nerves as you take in the towering building in front of you– Schlatt’s apartment complex. “Damn, this place is faaaan-cy,” Joelle comments. She looks over at you, and you both share a nervous, excited glance. “Well,” she says with a shrug, already making her way toward the entrance. “Only one way to go from here!”

As you step into the elevator, Joelle glances down at her phone, re-reading a message from Ted. “Top floor, Penthouse 2B,” she reads aloud, eyebrows raised. “Seriously, how rich is this guy?” She nudges you playfully. “Guess you’ve hit the jackpot.” You roll your eyes, nudging her with a laugh. “Stop it.”

The elevator dings, and soon you’re stepping out onto the top floor. The hallway is quiet, softly lit and lined with plush, deep blue carpet. You turn right, leading to a sleek door marked with a plaque that reads:

PENTHOUSE SUITE | 2B

Joelle types out a quick text to Ted as you both approach the door. You take a steadying breath, exchanging a glance with her. “You ready?” She gives you a confident nod. “Hell yeah.”

You raise your hand to knock, but before you can make contact, the door swings open to reveal Ted himself, grinning wide.

"Heyyy, look who finally made it!" Ted booms. Behind him, the room hums with laughter, music, and lively conversation. Ted pulls Joelle in for a quick hug, telling her she looks great, and it’s great to see her again. When he turns to you, his face lights up with a playful smirk. "Well hey, Y/N.” he says, arms already open. You laugh, stepping in for a hug. "Hi, Ted." His enthusiasm is infectious, and thinking back to the bar, you can’t help but realize that this seemed to be typical Ted—friendly, warm, and definitely a hugger.

He steps back, still grinning, and gestures toward the lively scene behind him. “Come on in! I can take your jackets and bags if you want, we’re just tossing them in the closet down the hall.” Ted takes your things as you step inside and heads toward the hallway, leaving you and Joelle alone. You turn to her, shaking your head with a smile. "He’s such a goofball." Joelle leans in close, grinning. "Oh, I know. I need him. Bad." You roll your eyes. "You’re ridiculous." As you look away from Joelle and begin scanning the room, your eyes land on a familiar face.

Schlatt.

He’s completely absorbed in an intense game of beer pong, set up on a plastic folding table in the center of the living room between two couches. Dressed in black jeans and a pale green crewneck, his messy brown curls brushed against his forehead. For a moment, you’re frozen, watching him in the midst of the lively chaos around him. Looking at the lack of cups left on the table, you could tell the game was close. His focus is intense as he lines up to throw the ping-pong ball, eyebrows furrowed.

God, he was handsome. Intensely focused and entirely in his element, you feel yourself drawn to him, your stomach tightening with a mix of nerves and excitement just from being near him.

The moment is broken when the other person on his team, a guy in a black tank top with short light brown hair and an eyebrow slit, claps him on the back. “Let’s go big guy, sink it!” Schlatt rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Dude, i was trying to lock in and focus, and you totally fucked me up.”

You stifle a chuckle as the two of them start bickering, and after a moment, Schlatt takes the shot. The ball sinks into the cup, and he pumps his fist in victory. His teammate raises his hand for a high-five as the two guys on the other side of the table drink from the cup– Schlatt leaves him hanging. Then, his gaze shifts, and for a moment, your eyes lock. Flustered, you raise a hand, giving an awkward wave. A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he gives you a subtle wave in return.

Before you even realize it, Ted reappears, pulling your focus from Schlatt’s game. “Alright, guess I'm playin’ host while Schlatt is preocuppied, drinks anyone? We’ve got a ridiculous selection in the kitchen. Beer, tequila, whiskey, vodka, seltzers, literally whatever you want. I’ll be your bartender.” Joelle glances at you, then back to Ted. “Lead the way!”

You follow Ted through the crowded room, weaving past groups of people chatting and laughing, and head into the kitchen. He gestured grandly at the lineup of bottles and mixers on the counter. You scan the options, almost overwhelmed by the sheer variety. “What’ll it be?” Ted asks, leaning against the counter with a playful grin. You glance at Joelle, who’s already eyeing the tequila. “Shots?” she suggests, a mischievous glint in her eye. You laugh, nodding. “Why not?” Ted grins, grabbing three shot glasses and pouring generously. “These are gonna be strong. No complaints after.” You raise an eyebrow playfully as he hands it to you. “I think we can handle a little bit of tequila.”

The three of you clink your glasses together, and you down the shot. The liquor burns on the way down, but the warmth that follows is pleasant. You cough, laughing at Joelle’s exaggerated grimace as she shakes her head. “Smooth.” Ted says with a smirk. “You guys wanna do another?”

“Saving any of that for the rest of us?”

Your breath catches in your throat as you turn around to see Schlatt, running a hand through his hair as he enters the kitchen. He nods at the bottle in Ted’s hand. “Didn’t know we were going hard so early, not that i’m one to talk.” He raises the solo cup in his hand and shakes it, signalling that it was empty.

Ted shrugs, pouring another shot and handing it to Schlatt. “You and Lud win beer pong?”

“Of course we fucking won.” Schlatt shoots back, taking the glass from Ted. “Will and Hasan talk a big game, but they’re pretty dogshit.” He glances at you with a slight smile before turning to Joelle. “You’re Joelle, right? We haven’t officially met—I’m Schlatt.” She grins, nodding. “Yeah, nice to finally meet you!” “Hell yeah.” He raises his glass, and the four of you clink glasses. “Cheers.” he says before downing the shot, face immidiately scrunching up in disgust. “God, I always forget how much I fucking hate tequila.”

Ted and Joelle dissolve into their own conversation– something about a meme they had been texting about earlier, leaving you standing next to Schlatt in silence. You steal a glance at him, unsure of what to say, but he beats you to it. “So, you made it.” he says, folding his arms as he looks you up and down, playful confidence in his gaze. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” “Of course I did,” you reply, matching his smile. “I’m a responsible adult, remember? I follow through with my plans.”

“Right, responsible,” he says, shaking his head with a smirk. “That definitely explains why you’re here, at a party, which you specifically told me you were using as an excuse to drink since you didn’’t know anyone other than me, Ted, and your roommate.”

You feel a flush creep up your cheeks as he calls you out. "Okay, fair," you laugh, raising your hands in surrender. "But hey, technically, I am being responsible— I showed up with Joelle, I’m not drinking alone, and I know I’ll get home safe. That counts, right?" He leans one arm against the counter, smirk still in place. “Yeah, yeah, if you say so. Sounds like a fancy way to justify a night of poor decisions.” “Poor decisions?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “We’re just getting started. Who says any of them will be poor?”

“Oh, now you’re making me curious.” His voice drops slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “But really,” he shifts his weight, his eyes darting to the floor, then back up at yours. “It's nice to see you. In person, I mean. Good to know you weren’t just some drunken hallucination and I’ve actually been texting a real person all week.”

You smile, feeling the warmth in your cheeks deepen. “Yeah, it’s nice to see you too.” The two of you hold eye contact, and for a moment, the tension between you lingers, thick and unspoken. Unable to handle it any longer, you break the silence with a light laugh. “But who knows? Maybe I have been a drunken hallucination this whole time. You’re actually just talking to yourself in your kitchen right now.” He lets out a soft laugh, and you continue. “Oh I'm serious, everyone is staring– it’s super weird.”

He rolls his eyes with a grin. “Alright, alright. Now you’re pushin’ it.”

You both chuckle, the moment settling comfortably between you. Then Ted leans in, breaking the pause. “So, what’s next?” he asks, glancing between you, Schlatt, and Joelle. A cheer erupts from down the hall, likely from the latest beer pong game. Schlatt shrugs, nodding toward the noise.

“Wanna play the next round?”

← last chapter ⭑ next chapter →

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #jschlatt fanfic #chuckle sandwich fanfic #chuckle sandwich x reader #ted nivison fanfic #look of love rush of blood #:3

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s1ut4evan · 1 year ago

Text

—————————————

good girl - kai anderson x fem reader

*smut*

Kai demands you suck his cock.

wattpad: s1ut4evan

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•

I blow on the hot soup that's held by my spoon before shoving it in my mouth. The sound of a car door slamming outside startles me. Kai's home. Butterflies formed in my stomach as I heard his heavy foot steps on our porch.

•

The energy instantly changes as Kai enters our home. "Hi babe." I say to him as he sulks to the dinner table. Kai slams his hands down, causing the soup to splash everywhere. "You couldn't fucking wait for me?!" he exclaimed. "Kai I- I was just so hungry and I knew you'd be out late working on the campaign. I'm sorry I just.."

•

My honesty made Kai's face turn red with anger. He pushes his blue locks back with both hands. "The least you could do was make me some fucking Manwich. Not this shit." he pointed to my soup bowl. I decided staying quiet would be best as Kai was more irritated than usual so I continued eating my soup.

•

I felt his dark eyes staring right through me. "Aren't you gonna clean that shit up?" he looked at the splashed out soup that wouldn't have happened if he hadn't slammed down on our table. I nod before standing up to grab paper towels from the kitchen. I had to scoot past Kai to get there.

•

Kai had me by the arm before I could walk past him. I turn to him with tears in my eyes, "I'm sorry Kai- I'm going to clean it up." His rough hand tilted my head up to face his eyes. They were darker than ever. "Clean it up later. I'm in need of something else at the moment." he pushed his pelvis up against me.

•

His hard member, already tenting in his jeans, pressed hard against my stomach. I nod before his slender thumb sneaks its way into my mouth. Kai uses his other hand to undo his pants. "Get on your knees." he demanded. His thumb slipped through my lips as I knelt down. I felt his wet thumb press against my forehead, "Good girl."

•

I pull his jeans down slightly, taking his boxers along with them. The force from his thick cock taps against my chin. I reach up to grab hold of his member but was stopped by Kai. "No." he said pushing my hand aside, "No hands."

I place my hands behind my back as a way of reminding me that they're off limits. Kai was testing my self control.

•

My mouth opens so his cock could gain access. I lean forward before wrapping my warm lips around his swollen tip. The taste of precum lathered my tongue as I swirled it gently. I felt the pressure from Kai's hand pushing the back of my head. "Take it like the good girl you are."

•

I bobbed my head forward, allowing his cock deeper into my mouth. My tongue formed to his shaft as if it were muscle memory. Kai hummed through his closed mouth before pushing my head further into him. I look up to see his devilish smile peaking down at me. "Just like that kitten." he whispered.

•

My jaw became sore as I picked up the pace. The thought of making Kai cum distracted me from gagging as his dick pounded the back of my throat. I loved making him proud. Tears welled in my eyes as I held back my whimpers. I squeezed my hands together behind my back, reminding myself I must not use them.

•

His breathes became heavier. My hair entangled his large hands as they both wrapped around the sides of my head. Now Kai wanted control. He held my head still as he began thrusting into my mouth. I almost moved my hands to find a way to support myself but I had to obey Kai. Air hissed through his teeth as his pumps became sloppy.

•

I prepared for his load as I felt the first twitch from his pulsating member. His warm seed paints the inside of my mouth as he slowed his thrusts down. Kai pressed firmly on my head, making sure I would stay there as he finished. "Fuck." he leaned back and let my head free.

•

I remained on my knees staring up at Kai, with a mouthful of his sweet cumshots. He looked down biting his lip and gave me a nod, letting me know I could swallow. I do so before Kai gave me a hand to help me up. His hands caressed my face as his fingers swept away tears from my cheeks.

•

Kai smirked, "Now how about some Manwich?"

#kai anderson #kai anderson smut #american horror story #evan peters #evan peters supremacy #evan peters smut #daddy's good girl

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mononijikayu · 1 year ago

Text

mr. kupido ― itadori yuji.

This was much more evident with each passing day that you were around him. Nothing felt right without you. Yuji is shaken by the fact that he cannot live without seeing you wave at him in the morning. He could not go without you greeting him at the training ground. He didn’t feel content without you seeing him off in each and every mission. Every time he saw you, whether it was in the classroom, the training grounds, or simply passing by in the hallway, his heart would skip a beat. A rush of warmth and happiness would wash over him, leaving him breathless and longing for more.

GENRE: Fearsome Womb Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Banter, Romance, Falling in Love, Young Love, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Curse Hunting, Gojo-Sensei is Cupid;

masterlist

note: i told myself that i should stop writing and get napping but i got an idea while listening to music, don't mind me please. i'm just really making all the time of semester break matter!!! genmei by the way is my oc from us and them, which im trying to plot,,,,,anyway please enjoy this!!! <3333

listen: mr. kupido by rachel alejandro

ITADORI YUJI WAS HE NEVER REALLY FELT LIKE THIS BEFORE. In the bustling corridors of Jujutsu High, amidst the chaos of students in the training ground, there was one person who stood out from the crowd – Yuji Itadori. With his infectious grin and boundless energy, Yuji seemed to light up the room wherever he went. But behind that charismatic facade lay a secret that weighed heavily on his heart.

Yuji Itadori had fallen deeply, irrevocably in love. And the object of his affection? None other than you, his classmate. From the moment he first laid eyes on you around Jujutsu High, Yuji was sure that he was never gonna forget about you. Immediately, when you introduced yourself – he was just completely captivated by your presence, your laughter, your every movement. Everything about you just screamed life. And he needed that.

But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Itadori Yuji found himself consumed with all these overwhelming feelings. Yuji was unable to shake off the want of you, everything of you and it just burns him. It seemed that every waking moment was filled with thoughts of how he could keep this secret any longer, how he could continue to hide the depths of his emotions from you.

As he navigated the halls of Jujutsu High, Yuji grappled with his feelings, torn between the fear of rejection and the longing for something more. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to tell you. To make it clear that there was no one else that had made his heart bigger. Nothing that had become his roman empire more than the thought of you loving him back. And as each day passed, the weight of his secret grew heavier, threatening to crush him under its unbearable burden.

But despite the turmoil raging within him, Yuji couldn't deny the undeniable truth – his love grows for you every day. And he couldn’t be happier about it. His heart skips a beat at the thought of you. He was consumed by you, and he could never fight it. He didn’t want to. Because he wanted you. He wanted to be happy together with you.

Yuji stood there, weighing his options. He lets out a deep breath, huffing out frustration in a groan soon after. He knew that he could no longer keep this secret hidden away. It was time to muster up the courage to confess his feelings, to lay his heart bare and hope for the best. He wanted to be brave and put his heart out there. But there was a problem weighing heavily on his mind.

He didn’t want to lose you this way. He had thought about it before. He didn’t have the courage to fan the flames for fear of scorching the delicate fabric of your friendship. For a long time, he had kept telling himself that he was already content having you in his life as a friend. The thought of confessing his feelings to you filled Yuji with a potent mixture of excitement and dread. Megumi had told him that it was time to do it, Kugisaki had told him to stop being a coward.

As days turned into nights, and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the Tokyo Jujutsu High campus, Yuji found himself locked in an internal struggle. The words lingered on the tip of his tongue, a confession waiting to be set free into the world, yet the weight of uncertainty held him captive.

His friends, blissfully unaware of the emotional tempest brewing within him, teased and joked about matters of the heart. But they couldn't fathom the depth of the turmoil Yuji was enduring. Nights turned into sleepless introspections, as he replayed the scenario endlessly in his mind, a perpetual loop of 'what ifs.'

He found himself in a ceaseless cycle of self-reflection, meticulously analyzing every possible outcome of the impending confession. A relentless parade of scenarios, each one more daunting than the last, paraded through his thoughts. Would you reciprocate his feelings, or would his declaration become the catalyst for a chasm that would forever alter the dynamics of their friendship?

Yuji, a prisoner of his own overactive mind, navigated the labyrinth of his emotions. A to Z, he scrutinized every conceivable permutation of events, contemplating the consequences of baring his soul to you. What if the words he longed to speak shattered the delicate equilibrium they had cultivated over time?

The fear of breaking the fragile harmony between them haunted him like a ghost, whispering doubts into the recesses of his consciousness. He envisioned a landscape of awkwardness and regret, where the warmth of your friendship would be replaced by a chilling awkwardness, a ghostly reminder of what once was.

The mere prospect of losing you, not just as a confidant but as the anchor of his daily existence, sent shivers down his spine. The shadow of potential regret loomed over him, casting a pall over his every waking moment. It was a paralyzing fear, one that gripped his heart and refused to let go.

As the clock ticked away, each second echoing in the chambers of his hesitation, Yuji grappled with the decision to finally unburden himself of this emotional weight or continue to navigate the labyrinth of uncertainty that lay before him. The battleground was set within his own mind, and the war between desire and fear raged on, leaving him standing on the precipice of a choice that could reshape the course of their relationship forever.

Faced with the daunting prospect of baring his soul to you, Yuji sought solace in the wisdom of one man – Gojo Satoru, the enigmatic and all-knowing sorcerer who seemed to possess an answer to every problem under the sun. With a heavy heart and a stomach full of butterflies, Yuji embarked on a quest to seek Gojo's guidance, determined to navigate the treacherous waters of love with the help of his eccentric sensei.

As Yuji approached Gojo's office, he couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous energy coursing through his veins. He knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping against the wood in a rhythm that mirrored the erratic beat of his heart.

"Come in," Gojo's voice echoed from within, a playful lilt dancing in his words.

Yuji pushed open the door and stepped into the room, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Gojo, adorned in his trademark flashy attire and sporting his signature blindfold, lounged on a throne-like chair, surrounded by a myriad of colorful plush toys and bizarre trinkets.

"Ah, Yuji my boy!" Gojo exclaimed, a grin stretching across his face. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

Yuji cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Um, Sensei, I... I need your help with something."

Gojo leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ah, let me guess…..is it about young love?" he mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Gojo Satoru grins.

"I've been expecting this moment. Fear not, Yuji! Sensei is here to assist you on your quest for romance!"

Yuji blinked in surprise, unsure of what to make of Gojo's theatrical display. "Um, thank you, Sensei. It's just that... I'm in love with them, but I don't know how to tell them."

Gojo's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he listened to Yuji's confession. "Ah, a classic tale of unrequited love! But fear not, Yuji, for I have just the solution to your conundrum. Consider me your personal cupid!"

As Gojo reveled in his grand plan, the door swung open, and Fushiguro Megumi entered the room with his signature deadpan expression. "This is the worst idea you could have ever had," he deadpanned, his gaze fixed firmly on Gojo.

Nobara Kugisaki followed closely behind, her laughter echoing through the room as she glanced at Yuji. "Gojo-sensei is gonna sink your love life," she teased, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. "Just tell them how you feel!"

Gojo faked a gasp of offense, feigning shock at Fushiguro and Nobara teasing remarks. "You two are so rude! I romanced my own wife, thank you very much," he protested, his tone laced with mock indignation.

But Fushiguro wasn't about to let Gojo off the hook so easily. "Genmei-san didn’t choose you in the first place," he pointed out with a hint of skepticism, his gaze unwavering as he met Gojo's eyes.

Nobara, ever the mischievous one, added fuel to the fire with a knowing smirk. "Yeah, didn’t she tell us that she would have chosen Nanami-san instead of you?" she teased, settling comfortably onto Gojo's black sofa.

A genuine frown crossed Gojo's face, his playful facade crumbling as he defended his honor. "Nu-uh! She didn’t! I’m the one she actually likes!" he insisted, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

Fushiguro rolled his eyes, unimpressed by Gojo's protests. "Can you just tell us the mission and be done with this mess?" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest in a display of impatience.

Gojo's pride stung as he awaited Yuji's affirmation, his confidence momentarily shaken by Fushiguro and Nobara's teasing. "I can’t believe this, my own son!" he exclaimed dramatically, feigning betrayal at Fushiguro's casual dismissal.

Fushiguro merely raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by Gojo's theatrics. "I'm not your son," he deadpanned, his tone laced with dry sarcasm as he met Gojo's gaze with an unyielding stare.

Meanwhile, Yuji squirmed uncomfortably under their scrutiny, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he attempted to defend Gojo's plan. "Come on, guys, Gojo-sensei knows what he's doing," he insisted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I’m pretty sure he’s romanced Gen-san before! I mean, they’ve been married for a while!"

Gojo's expression softened at Yuji's earnest defense, touched by his student's unwavering trust in him. "Yes, exactly! I am Cupid himself. Tell them that, Yuji!" he urged, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes as he awaited Yuji's affirmation.

With a hesitant nod, Yuji turned to Fushiguro and Nobara, his gaze wavering but determined. "Guys, Gojo-sensei really does have a plan. I think we should trust him," he implored, his voice tinged with uncertainty but genuine belief.

Fushiguro and Nobara exchanged skeptical glances, clearly unconvinced by Gojo's grand claims. But as they watched Yuji's earnest expression and sensed his unwavering faith in their sensei, they couldn't help but soften slightly, begrudgingly giving in to his plea.

With a resigned sigh, Fushiguro relented. "Fine, we'll hear out Gojo-sensei's plan," he conceded, his tone begrudging but willing to entertain the possibility.

Nobara nodded in agreement, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "But if this ends in disaster, Gojo-sensei, you're gonna owe us big time," she warned, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she glanced at the flustered sorcerer.

Gojo lifted a thumb up, an all-mighty grin on his lips. “I won’t fail, don’t worry! Leave it to your great, handsome teacher and Cupid, Satoru Gojo!”

And so, with a tentative truce in place and Gojo's grand plan hanging in the balance, the unlikely quartet prepared to embark on a wild and unpredictable journey of love, laughter, and perhaps a touch of chaos, all under the guidance of the self-proclaimed Cupid himself.

But Fushiguro and Nobara remained unconvinced, exchanging skeptical glances as they watched Gojo eagerly lay out his elaborate scheme. With a resigned sigh, Fushiguro shook his head. "Fine, do whatever you want," he muttered, already bracing himself for the chaos that was sure to follow.

Gojo's heart swelled with pride and excitement as Fushiguro and Nobara reluctantly agreed to hear out his plan. Their skepticism was evident, but the glimmer of hope in Yuji's eyes fueled Gojo's determination to make this grand scheme a success. With a triumphant grin, he turned to Yuji, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes, ready to embark on this adventure of love and laughter.

"Well then, shall we get started?" Gojo exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious as he eagerly laid out the intricate details of his grand scheme. His voice crackled with energy, each word infused with palpable excitement. "First things first, we need to set the stage for the perfect confession!"

“And what would that be?” Megumi raises a brow.

Satoru Gojo looked at all his students and grinned at Yuji, “You’ll see!”

IT WAS QUITE A SURPRISED WHEN GOJO SATORU GAVE YOU A MISSION ON YOUR OWN. You sat there, perched on the edge of your seat, your eyes narrowed with suspicion as you stared at Gojo-sensei. His trademark smirk stretched across his face, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he regarded you with amusement. Something about his demeanor set off alarm bells in your mind, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this meeting than met the eye.

Under the pretense of a routine mission, Gojo-sensei had summoned you to his office, claiming that there was a task at hand that required your immediate attention. But as he began to explain the details of the mission, a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach. There was an air of secrecy surrounding Gojo-sensei's words, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was hiding.

You raised a brow at him. “Maki–senpai would be more suited for something like this, maybe Inumaki–senpai too–”

"You’re the one I can trust with this mission, it’s why I called for you.” Gojo-sensei says, his voice smooth and casual as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled together in front of him. "We have a special mission that requires your unique skills.”

You narrowed your eyes at his cryptic words, your instincts telling you that there was more to this mission than Gojo-sensei was letting on. He was being weird again, you think to yourself. But then again, he's always weird. That's not something that you really can do anything about. You shrugged at him.

"What kind of mission?" you asked, your voice laced with suspicion as you studied him intently.

Gojo-sensei's smirk widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's just say it involves something that we highly value." he replied cryptically, a playful glint in his eyes.

Your suspicions only grew stronger at his vague response, and you couldn't help but shoot him a skeptical glare. "And you're not going to tell me what these we highly value, anyway?" you asked, your tone tinged with frustration as you pressed him for answers.

But Gojo-sensei merely chuckled in response, his smirk never faltering as he leaned back in his chair once more. "You'll just have to find out for yourself," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he watched your reaction.

You sighed at what Gojo-sensei said and nodded. Soon enough you were out into the narrow streets of Tokyo, following the map Gojo-sensei gave you. Much of what you’re going off on was guided by the cryptic instructions he provided. The details were vague, leaving you to navigate the darkened streets and winding alleyways with a sense of uncertainty. An irritated sigh releases from your lips. You should text Megumi about your plot to take revenge on Gojo-sensei. As you ventured deeper into the heart of the city, a palpable anticipation filled the air, mingling with the thick tension that seemed to surround the mission like a heavy cloak.

With each step forward, the sense of unease intensified, as if the very fabric of reality itself was undergoing a disquieting metamorphosis around you. The familiar surroundings of a Jujutsu sorcerer's job began to take on an uncanny and shifting quality. A subtle but perceptible alteration in the atmosphere left you questioning whether this unsettling phenomenon was an intentional part of Gojo's mission, or if it heralded something more enigmatic.

You instinctively reached for your saber, the cool metal providing a reassuring weight against the growing tension. The surroundings, once familiar and predictable, now took on an increasingly foreboding nature. Long shadows twisted and contorted, casting menacing shapes that danced malevolently along the walls. The labyrinthine streets seemed to stretch and coil, as if the city itself was a living, breathing entity responding to an unseen force.

As you continued your journey, hunting down the curses that lurked in the shadows, the palpable feeling of unease persisted. The air crackled with an otherworldly energy, and the tension became a palpable entity, wrapping around you like a suffocating shroud. Was this a side effect of the mission, or had Gojo intentionally woven this disconcerting atmosphere into the fabric of your quest?

Yet, even amidst the swirling chaos and uncertainty, a fierce determination burned within you. Each curse encountered, each challenge faced, only fueled your relentless pursuit of the truth behind Gojo's enigmatic mission. The glimmer of determination within you shone like a beacon, cutting through the ominous ambiance that sought to engulf you.

You rush toward the gurgling curse with fierce determination before you feel the curse burst into pieces. You halt and blink at the dead curse in front of you. As you turned the corner, your eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected sight before you. There, amidst the swirling chaos of curses, stood Yuji Itadori, his expression resolute as he engaged in a fierce battle against the malevolent entities threatening to overwhelm him.

"Yuji? What are you doing here?" you called out, both surprised and relieved to see him amidst the turmoil.

Yuji's head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening in recognition and relief. "Hey! I'm, uh, just taking care of some curses," he replied, a nervous laugh bubbling up as he fought to maintain his composure.

"You? Taking care of curses? Shouldn't you be in class or something? Gojo-sensei assigned this mission to me." you teased, unable to suppress a smirk at the sight of Yuji valiantly battling the supernatural creatures.

"Hey, I can handle myself, you know," Yuji protested, a playful glint in his eyes as he deflected your teasing with good-natured banter. “Besides, shouldn’t it be the merrier?”

"That’s quite a lot to ask of me," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement as you watched Yuji continue to fend off the curses with surprising skill and determination. “I like doing my job to satisfy my ego, you know? It's not always fun to be the more the merrier!"

Yuji grinned at you. “So do I!”

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty, a sense of camaraderie blossomed between you and Yuji. Despite the gravity of the situation, there was an undeniable bond of trust and understanding that united you both in the face of adversity.

"You better pull your punches," you quipped, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you exchanged knowing glances with Yuji.

"Don’t fall asleep with your saber," he retorted with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he teased you in return.

As the banter flowed between you and Yuji, a surge of adrenaline fueled your movements as you joined him in the battle against the curses once more. Standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder, you fought with a renewed vigor, each strike and parry a testament to your growing bond and unyielding determination.

With every swing of your saber and every burst of cursed energy, you could feel the rhythm of your heartbeat quicken, the exhilaration of battle coursing through your veins. Having Yuji by your side, fighting alongside you, it made you feel alive in a way you hadn't experienced before. Even amidst the chaos and danger, there was a sense of exhilaration that came from facing the unknown together.

As the mission drew to a close and the last of the curses were vanquished, you found yourself feeling a sense of exhaustion settling over you. Sweat dripped from your brow as you lowered your head to catch your breath, the rush of battle leaving you both physically and emotionally drained.

In that moment of respite, amidst the falling cherry blossoms, Yuji Itadori appeared with a grin on his face, a can of cold drink in each hand. His flushed cheeks and bright smile were a stark contrast to the intensity of the battle you had just faced together. With a warm greeting, he handed you one of the cans, his gesture a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed between you during the mission.

Accepting the can with a grateful smile, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for Yuji. Despite the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded you, his presence brought a sense of calm and reassurance. And as you stood together amidst the falling cherry blossoms, sharing a moment of quiet companionship, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, united in strength and love.

With the falling cherry blossoms creating a picturesque backdrop, you and Yuji stood in a moment of quiet serenity, the soft petals swirling around you like a gentle snowfall. The air was filled with a sense of warmth and camaraderie as you shared a silent exchange, the unspoken bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

Feeling a surge of courage, you took a deep breath and turned to face Yuji, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to bare your feelings to him. But as you opened your mouth to speak, the words caught in your throat, and you found yourself suddenly tongue-tied.

Yuji's eyes softened as he watched you, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he waited patiently for you to gather your thoughts. Sensing your hesitation, he reached out and gently squeezed your hand, his touch offering a silent reassurance.

"Hey, it's okay," Yuji murmured, his voice soft and comforting. "You don't have to say anything if you're not ready."

But the warmth of his hand in yours and the sincerity in his eyes emboldened you, and with a shy smile, you took a deep breath and spoke from the heart.

"Yuji, I...I wanted to tell you that...I care about you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to put your feelings into words. "More than just as a friend. I...I think I might be in love with you. I felt like this for a while now. But I was…I was waiting for the right time to say something.”

A blush crept across your cheeks as you uttered the words, your heart pounding in your chest as you awaited Yuji's response. But instead of laughter or rejection, you were met with a soft smile and a warmth in his eyes that mirrored your own feelings.

"Hey, I...I feel the same way," Yuji confessed, his voice filled with sincerity as he gazed at you with affection. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long, but I didn't know how to say it. I’ve just been so scared that you’d….you’d reject me, you know? I just, I really wanted to keep it to myself because there was just–”

“Yuji,” You lovingly call out to him, making him look towards you with a flustered look. “You’re rambling.”

As Yuji's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, he stumbled over his words in a flustered attempt to apologize. "Oh, I'm so sorry–"

But you simply laughed, the sound light and full of warmth as you leaned closer to him. "It's okay," you reassured him, a fond smile playing on your lips. "I love that about you."

A shy smile graced Yuji's lips as he looked at you, his heart overflowing with affection. "You do?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for confirmation.

Nodding gently, you reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead, your touch sending a shiver of electricity down his spine. "Of course I do," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned in closer to him. "I love everything about you, Yuji."

His breath caught in his throat as he looked at you, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized the depth of your feelings for him. And in that moment, surrounded by the falling cherry blossoms and the soft glow of moonlight, you and Yuji shared a tender and intimate connection that transcended words. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a sweet and gentle kiss that spoke volumes of the love and affection that flowed between you.

As you melted into each other's embrace, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the overwhelming warmth of your love. And as you stood there, lost in the sweet embrace of your newfound love, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

the end credits at gojo-manor:

Gojo Genmei raised an amused eyebrow as she watched Gojo Satoru pace back and forth in their shared living room, a self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. "What's got you so worked up, Satoru?" she asked, a knowing glint in her eyes. Gojo turned to face her, his expression positively gleeful. "Oh, you know, just saving the day as usual," he boasted, his chest puffing out with pride. Genmei chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "And what heroic deed have you performed this time?" she inquired, her tone teasing. Gojo's grin widened as he launched into an animated retelling of his latest escapade. "Well, you see, there was this little misunderstanding between two of my students," he began, his voice brimming with excitement. "They were head over heels for each other but too scared to admit it. So, naturally, I had to step in and play Mr. Cupid." Genmei arched an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "And how, pray tell, did you manage to accomplish that?" Gojo's grin turned mischievous as he recounted the elaborate scheme he had orchestrated to bring the two students together. He left nothing out. From how he had been noticing Yuji's pining, how you were suffering from 'i'm in love but i won't say anything' sickness. Genmei certainly found it amusing that people let her husband have his way. But well, it seemed to have worked out in the end. That's all that matters, really. "And in the end," Gojo concluded, a satisfied smirk on his face, "they finally confessed their love for each other. All thanks to yours truly, Mr. Cupid himself!" Genmei couldn't help but laugh at her husband's antics, shaking her head in amusement. "You never cease to surprise me, Satoru," she remarked, a fond smile playing on her lips. "But I must say, playing Cupid suits you." Gojo beamed at her praise, his chest puffing out with pride once more. "Well, you know me," he replied with a wink. "Always happy to lend a helping hand when it comes to matters of the heart." And as they sat together, basking in the warmth of their shared laughter, Gojo Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that he had played a small part in bringing two young hearts together. After all, what could be more rewarding than helping love blossom?

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fidesvirtusobsession · 2 months ago

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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓭 𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰

Chapter 1 》

The Letter That Changed Everything

The morning air was crisp, the kind that hinted at the coming of autumn. (Y/n) had just sat down for breakfast when the doorbell rang. She wasn’t expecting anyone.

Curious, she wiped her hands and made her way to the door. The moment she opened it, her breath hitched. A large wooden trunk sat on the porch. It was beautiful—polished mahogany with gold embellishments, the crest of Aetheris Academy carved into the center. The sight alone sent a strange shiver down her spine.

Next to it, sitting neatly on top, was an envelope. Heavy. Embossed. Sealed with wax.

Her heart pounded as she reached for it.

With trembling fingers, she slid her thumb under the seal and pulled out the thick parchment inside. The envelope was heavier than expected. The deep navy paper, embossed with gold filigree, gleamed under the soft light of the morning sun. The wax seal, pressed with the emblem of Aetheris Academy, remained unbroken, carrying an air of mystery—an invitation to a world most could only dream of. For a long moment, (Y/n) just stared at it, heart pounding.

Aetheris Academy.

The most prestigious institution in the country. A school reserved for the best—the brightest—the most elite. People with power, influence, talent.

People like Souta Fujimura.

Not people like her.

With a deep breath, she slid her finger under the wax seal, breaking it with a quiet snap. The crisp parchment unfolded, revealing the elegantly scripted words inside.

To the Esteemed (Y/n),

You have been hand-selected to attend Aetheris Academy. Your talents, character, and potential have not gone unnoticed. It is with great pleasure that we extend this exclusive invitation for you to join the ranks of the most exceptional students of our generation.

We trust that you will uphold the values and traditions of our institution. Aetheris Academy is not merely a school; it is a legacy. Those who walk through its halls shape the future.

Your attendance has already been arranged. Enclosed, you will find your official acceptance documents, as well as the necessary preparations for your arrival. We look forward to welcoming you.

Headmaster Elias Veldt

Aetheris Academy

The paper trembled in her hands.She read it once. Then again.

Hand-selected? Talents? Potential?

This had to be a mistake.

Before she could even process what it meant, her phone buzzed violently against the table.

Souta.

She barely had time to pick up before his voice exploded through the speaker.

“YOU’RE COMING TO AETHERIS?!”

(Y/n) winced, pulling the phone away from her ear. “I— I don’t know. I just got the letter.”

“This is insane! This is incredible!” Souta was practically shouting, his excitement spilling through the phone like an uncontainable force. “I thought I was gonna have to go there alone, surrounded by a bunch of stuck-up brats—BUT YOU’RE COMING TOO?!”

Her fingers tightened around the letter. “I don’t even know why they chose me.”

“WHO CARES WHY?!” he yelled, “YOU’RE IN!”

(Y/n) swallowed hard. The sheer energy in his voice was overwhelming. But beneath his usual loud enthusiasm, there was something else. Something genuine.

Relief.

“You really wanted me to come that badly?” she asked softly.There was a brief pause. A rare moment where Souta Takahashi —the unstoppable force—actually hesitated. Then, with a voice quieter than before, he admitted

“...Yeah.”

Something warm bloomed in her chest. The idea of Aetheris Academy still terrified her. The students there were in an entirely different league. She had no idea what to expect, who would be waiting for her, or what this school even wanted from her.

But knowing she wouldn’t be alone?

That changed everything.

“Alright,” she said finally, exhaling. “I guess I’m going to Aetheris Academy.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

“WOOOOOOOOOOO! LET’S GOOOOOOOO!”

Laughter bubbled out of her before she could stop it. Maybe—just maybe—this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“(Y/n)!”

Her mother’s voice snapped her out of her daze, followed by the sound of rushing footsteps.

“Why are you just standing—” Her mother’s words cut off the moment she saw the chest. Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes going wide. “Oh my God.”

“What is it?” Her father joined them at the door, his brows furrowing—until he saw the crest.

There was silence.

And then—

“You got in!”

Before (Y/n) could react, her mother pulled her into a tight hug.

“This is incredible!” her father exclaimed, already reaching for the chest. “I’ve heard rumors about this, but I never thought—”

The latch clicked open with an ease that sent a strange unease down her spine.

Inside, neatly arranged, was the uniform.

Burgundy. Gold. White.

The unmistakable colors of Aetheris Academy.

Her mother gasped. “They even sent the uniform?”

(Y/n) reached out, hesitantly brushing her fingers over the soft fabric. It was luxurious, tailored to her exact size.

That was when the unease truly settled in.

How did they know her measurements?

No one had taken them. She was sure of it.

But before she could dwell on it, her mother grabbed her hands, eyes sparkling.

“Do you realize what this means? You’ll be surrounded by the best of the best! This school—it opens doors, (Y/n)! Doors we never even thought possible!”

Her father nodded, beaming. “This is the kind of opportunity people dream about.”

(Y/n) forced a smile, nodding along.

They were right.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

And yet, as she looked back at the chest, at the perfectly tailored uniform and the golden crest gleaming in the morning light, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just stepped into something much bigger than she had ever imagined.

“You have to try it on.”

(Y/n) barely had time to react before her mother was already lifting the uniform from the chest with a reverence usually reserved for wedding dresses. The rich burgundy fabric shimmered subtly in the morning light, contrasting sharply against the pristine white blouse beneath it. Her mother held it up against her, eyes shining. “This is gorgeous. Just look at this tailoring—this fabric! Oh, (Y/n), you have to put it on now.”

(Y/n) hesitated. “Mom, I don’t even know if—”

But her mother was already ushering her towards the nearest mirror. Defeated, (Y/n) sighed and carefully took the uniform into her arms before heading to her room.

As she changed, she couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship.

The burgundy skirt was perfectly pleated, falling just above the knee with an elegant flow. The material was expensive—she could tell just from the way it moved, soft yet structured, like something designed to last a lifetime. The white blouse was crisp, tailored exactly to her frame, with subtle embroidery along the collar that she only noticed upon closer inspection. The pattern was intricate, almost like woven ivy leaves—delicate, but unmistakable.

And then, there was the blazer.

Deep burgundy, fitted at the waist, with a subtle gold lining that caught the light whenever she moved. The Aetheris Academy crest was embroidered over the left breast pocket—intricate, regal, unmistakable.(Y/n) turned in the mirror, brushing her hands over the blazer’s fabric.

It was beautiful.

It fit her perfectly.

Too perfectly.

She frowned. Had they made this specifically for her? But how?

Before she could dwell on it, her mother’s voice came from outside. “Well? Let me see!”

Sighing, (Y/n) opened the door and stepped out. The moment she did, her mother clapped her hands together.

“Oh, you look stunning!”

Her father, now leaning against the doorway with an approving nod, smirked. “Very prestigious. You look like you’ve belonged there all along.”

(Y/n) glanced at herself in the hall mirror.

Belonged?

She wasn’t so sure.

Something about this still felt off.

But as her mother adjusted the blazer on her shoulders, beaming with pride, and her father muttered something about grabbing the camera, she forced a small smile.

Even if this opportunity felt like it had appeared out of nowhere, it was hers now. And Aetheris Academy was waiting.

“Oh! You can use the trunk as luggage!”

(Y/n) blinked, looking over at her mother, who was now inspecting the trunk with newfound excitement.

“What?” she asked, still adjusting the cuffs of her blazer. Her mother turned to her, eyes bright. “It’s the perfect size! Just look at it—sturdy, spacious, and much more elegant than your old suitcase. This is what students at prestigious academies use, I’m sure.”

(Y/n) glanced at the chest again. It was definitely ornate. The dark wood was polished to perfection, golden embellishments gleaming in the light. The Aetheris Academy crest was subtly engraved into the lid, as if marking it as something only meant for those chosen to attend.

Still…

She crouched beside it, running a hand along the smooth surface. “It’s nice, but isn’t it weird?” she asked slowly. “I mean, they sent this with my letter. It’s like they expected me to say yes.” Her mother waved a dismissive hand. “Well, of course you’d say yes. Aetheris Academy doesn’t hand out scholarships lightly. They probably send this to every scholarship student—it’s all part of the experience!”

(Y/n) wasn’t so sure.

But as her mother already started listing off what she could pack inside, and her father began inspecting the locks with interest, she figured she didn’t really have a choice.

The chest was coming with her.

And whatever waited for her at Aetheris Academy…She would face it, whether she was ready or not.

#Aetheris Academy #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere oc

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hokusu · 3 months ago

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#DabiHawks Sleepy holiday Hawks

Hawks doesn't take days off, of course not. But that doesn't mean the bird inside of him doesn't yearn to hibernate in the winters, when his limbs grow heavier and the weather turns colder.

Especially nearing the sleepy days of year end, when the world seems to hum in a slow post-Christmas haze and pre-New Year festivities. The streets are quiet and low with energy, like everyone is taking it easy.

And Hawks would agree as he makes his rounds of patrol, a bundle of red wrapped around his neck and his face buried in the soft of its wool. If he's not careful, he'll doze off in midair.

So maybe, when the snow begins to fall and the last hour of his patrol rolls around, he'll start heading home early. Shoot off a few feathers to fly through the city and complete his patrol for him instead.

He knows if anything really happened, he'd fly there in no time, but for now... just this once... he's going to cheat a little.

When he lands on the floorboards of his balcony and slides open the doors to a warm house by no other than his very own heater, he doesn't feel bad at all.

Not when a sleepy body lazes against his couch like he was made for it, a pile of pillows propped against his back and a throw blanket thrown askew. That thought turns something warm inside of him whenever he thinks about just months ago, no one ever used that couch. Nothing more than a piece of furniture growing cold. But now... the eyes from the couch follows his movements and murmurs in amusement, "Aren't you home a little early?"

Hawks puffs his cheeks as he shuts the door and shakes the chill from his wings, pulling the scarf off his neck. "I don't know what you mean."

"My, am I a bad influence on you?"

Hawks exhales a laugh. "What, coming home early is where you draw the line? Too much for villains?"

"You're a workaholic," Dabi replies flatly.

"And I'm sleepy," Hawks replies back matter-of-fact. Like that has ever stopped him before. "Birds are made to hibernate."

Dabi's laughter rumbles low in the back of his throat as Hawks peels his fluffy coat off his shoulders and shuffles himself forward, until the cold of his wings brush up against Dabi and Dabi stops lazing on the couch to make room for him. But Dabi tuts at him. "Shower first. You won't get up, once you sit."

Hawks isn't the only one who thinks about the changes in the last few months. Dabi does too, and thinks about how strange it is that he knows all of Hawks' tendencies now. That the little Keigo in him that grew up becoming a germaphobe means that sometimes, he's just that��a delicate little bird. Dabi remembers the first time he trekked into Hawks' home, boots and all and Hawks had stared at the beige of his carpet the entire time, discomfort rippling through his wings as his feathers picked up every speck of dirt that had come inside.

Dabi had never done it again. And he knows better now, that Hawks hates dirtying up his home. That includes, when his golden eyes shine with the desire to be comfortable, but knows he's too dirty for his couch after an entire day of heroics.

Hawks sighs as his wings droop just by the edges, just centimeters from climbing on to the couch. "I know," he breathes. "But you look so comfortable."

Dabi hums, running a heated hand through his wings as he makes to get up from his comfortable pile. Only Hawks can ever get a lazing Dabi to get up. "Come on birdie, we can laze around after."

Dabi drags him off to the showers and Hawks, doesn't need to say it, but he's grateful all the same.

And when they're both freshly cleaned from as hot as the water will go, steam emitting from the bathroom and fogging all the mirrors, Dabi will drag an even sleepier Hawks back onto the couch as promised, the lazy night just before the new years settling in.

"You gonna nap until the new year?" Dabi teases, as Hawks settles against his arms, the faux fur of their throw wrapped snugly around him and the pillows piled next to him.

"If only," Hawks mumbles with a yawn.

He'll get up again for tomorrow, he'll complete his heroics through the eve and new years. He knows that, but for now... he'll take a sleepy night in like the rest of the city.

#Dabihawks #Bnha #boku no hero academia #Mha #my hero academia #Hawks #Dabi #Todoroki Touya #Takami keigo #My writing #Happy sleepy Hawks time of year #Digging up all my old Twitter threads #Dabihawks fanfic

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 7 months ago

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A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 18

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. This chapter is a little heavier (as is the story going forward, but I'll include potential triggers for each chapter as relevant), so please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: none

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Despite only getting a few hours sleep, I feel energised throughout my shift. The memories of last night filter through my mind whenever I get a brief chance to slow down as I’m making coffees, heating pastries and cleaning tables. The night may not have gone exactly the way I’d hoped, and there are parts I wish happened differently, but the way he made me feel overpowers all of it. I try to keep myself from getting carried away, but for the first time in years I feel butterflies and like I have hope.

I’m full of nervous energy as I practically skip back to my apartment and clean every inch. Despite him already seeing it in its normal chaotic state, I want to make a better impression tonight. While I’m still terrified to take any serious steps and make any promises, the light, weightless feeling of premature infaturation is intoxicating. Once I’m satisfied with the state of the apartment, I shower, change into a comfy but nice sweater and jeggings. I let my hair fall naturally over my shoulders and put on a light layer of lip gloss. I light the fireplace before leaning anxiously against the bench as I finally text Jensen.

HeyThis is me texting you when I finish work

You need a chance to rest or rehearse or anything?

Wasn’t the plan for us to do that together?

Just making sure You can change your mind, you know? If you’re too tired or too busy I understand

It’s just one more night, right?

If you’re sure I really want to see you, but I don’t want to overwhelm you

I’m ok, JensenI’d like to see you too

Alright, See you in 30? Any preferences for dinner? Or things I should avoid?

You’re not gonna get a Texan brisket in NYCSo, surprise me

Good thing I’ve had time to research

Almost an hour passes before I finally hear a knock. I stop pacing and rush across the well worn track to the door. I glance through the peephole before opening the door.

“I am so sorry! I ran into some fans at the restaurant and I couldn’t get away. I should’ve send Clif in. I just-”

I pull him in for a hug. “I thought…” He wraps his arms around me.

“You thought I was standing you up…I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you from the car.”

I pull back and pace back to the kitchen and lean against the counter. “No, that’s just me overreacting again. Things happen, you’re famous, I should just expect it.”

He places the take away bag on the counter and puts one of his hands over mine. “And why would you expect it? Life happens to everyone, but I don’t make a habit of being late. And it’s my fault for not texting.”

“You don’t owe me that. By my own fault, you’re not…we’re not…”

“With or without a label, we had plans. Plans that are now going cold. Let me make it up to you with…” he pulls out the cardboard take away containers out of the bag and opens them one at a time.

I read the label on the lids. “Dallas Barbecue! You went all the way to Times Square? No wonder you got mobbed by fans!”

“You were missing home, and I know Dallas isn’t Houston, but we do Barbecue too. Now, whether the people here can do it well, the jury’s still out on that, but we’re gonna find out. We got a good selection to try. We’ve got baby back ribs, sirloin steak, roast chicken, crispy wings, a barbecue brisket burger, and because I’m a bit of a stickler for health food, salad and roast veggies.”

“This is way too much food, Jensen…”

“We get through what we can and you get the rest for tomorrow night. Budding actresses can’t be against leftovers.”

“I just can’t believe you got all this just because I was missing home.”

“It’s not just that. Texan food is the best. Let’s just hope they do it justice.” He picks up a wing. “Now help me eat this before it goes cold and we don’t get a good test.”

I sit beside him at the island bench and we both just eat straight from the containers. As we test each dish we critique it, but my opinions are likely skewed as it’s been so long since I’ve been home. Eventually he gets up to grab a knife from the knifeblock and cuts the burger in half.

“Alright, it’s brisket time!” He says as he rubs his hands together. He hands me half before picking the other half up himself. “So far it’s been an alright substitute but this here is the real test.”

After packing the outstanding amount of leftovers away in airtight containers in the fridge we collapse on the couch feeling entirely full, bloated and satisfied. He stretches his arms out along the back of the couch as he spreads out. I can feel his fingers lightly tickling my shoulder and neck. I stretch my head to the opposite side to give him more access.

“I’m glad you didn’t hold back tonight. You were matching bite for bite with me. That’s sexy. I don’t know many girls who can do that. Especially when it comes to a big Texan dinner like that.”

“There’s so much left…I feel so bloated.”

“It’s just been too long since you’ve been to Texas, but I’d say you did amazing. You can take the girl out of Texas…”

“I wanna go back, I do…But…”

“But you also wanna make it on Broadway? I was the same, with acting I mean. I loved Texas, I didn’t really want to leave, but I knew if I wanted to give acting a shot I had to go to LA. My dad gave me one year, otherwise I’d have to come home and go to college.”

“College boy, huh? What would you’ve studied?”

“Sports medicine. You ever consider studying?”

“I guess you could say I considered it…” I turn on the couch so I’m leaning against the armrest so I can look at him while we talk. I go to cross my legs but he pulls them over his thighs and runs his hands over my covered calves. I try to focus on what I was saying instead of the reawakened butterflies. “I’ve been taking acting classes, but I was also thinking about taking some psych and sociology classes this year. ”

“You been analysing me?”

I shake my head. “I mean part of the human condition is to form opinions and make judgements. But no, I haven’t decided or started yet.”

“I guess it will depend on the audition, right?”

“Yeah…”

Noticing me relaxing a little more, he slowly slips his fingers under the fabric of my socks to massage my skin. He watches me to gauge my reaction before continuing. While I’m distracted he asks, “What was the monolgue again?”

I almost recite it, but stop myself at the last second. “Nice try, Ackles.”

“You said you needed to practice. I might not have any official training, but I can give you notes as a friend and fellow actor.”

As he softly drags his thumb down over my instep I let out an involuntary sigh and bite my lip as the relaxation and tingling feeling runs up my legs to my core. The feeling instantly brings me to my senses and I try to pull my foot out out grip but he holds on. He hushes me as he continues to gently massage them. “It’s alright. Stay here with me. No walls. I won’t go any higher, it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just not-”

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s a foot rub, nothing more. I’m not…” He shakes his head as his hands still. “I said I’d wait for you and I meant it. It’s just…You were relaxing and opening up to me. It’s like you’ve got these automatic doors and they open up so briefly and then they slam shut on me. And I understand you need time. It’s just hard to resist when you give me the green light, no matter how brief, but I have no intention of taking advantage of you or making you feel uncomfortable.” He lifts his hands to let me make the next move.

I nod and make the conscious decision to try and relax and let him in. I don’t move my legs. I reach for the remote but don’t turn the TV on yet. “You don’t make me feel uncomfortable. The opposite actually. I just overthink. I get in my head and…”

“We all do sometimes. I think we need a embarrassment-free, stress-free safe word. Whenever you’re starting to get overwhelmed you say the word and I’ll stop, we take a breath. And I don’t just mean with physical stuff like now, on the phone, via text, anytime. If the conversation is too much, we change the subject or we discuss what’s going on in your head.”

I nod as I consider his suggestion. After a few moments of silence I say, “Brisket.”

“That’s my girl, how Texan of you. I love it. So, whenever you start to feel anything’s too much you just say brisket.”

“Thank you.”

“So, honestly…If I do this?” He rubs his hand over my calves down to my feet and rubs his fingers gently over the top of my feet and around over the instep. I let the feeling wash over me and relax. He smiles and continues when I don’t use the word.

It’s almost midnight when the credits roll on the random movie we picked. Jensen turns off the TV and then, despite feeling guilty, crouches down beside me, and brushes my hair away from my face. He quietly says, “The movie’s finished, Darlin’”. I grumble out something unintelligible and scoot down the couch. “You should go to bed.” When I don’t move he gets up and looks around for a blanket. He finds one folded up in the corner, and he spreads it over my body. “Sleep well, Darlin’. I’ll try to come back and visit you soon.” He softly kisses the top of my head. “I’ll text you in the morning.” It takes all of his willpower to pull away and walk out the door not knowing when he’ll see me again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain

#jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic

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ome-magical-ramblings · 12 days ago

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Radionics results compilation.

Okay Okay, last of the rapid posts:

The Ritual

The Material

The Grimoire

Och's Ritual Experience:

My Own experience: Just did it, night and day difference from the original method that we did last week. A lot more intense, normal water bottle felt like spring water and some other stuff I couldn't exactly disclose everything but the water is literally a whole different thing.

Phul's Ritual Experience:

Phul Water Consecration: W.F.'s Experience Phul water was like drinking silver, its texture was like runny metal of colloidal silver, it purified all it touched with silver sheen and started glowing upon reaching the stomach. Phul sigil started leaking water I spilled no watter during my handling of the glass The thing is getting more wet over time instead of drying. The water and the glass it was in are gone but its still getting wetter Phul made a drawing of a moon behind coulds

Even the north magnet started getting wet This is all happening after water and glass are long gone And the first candle I lit is still holding to life with a flame long since the one i lit second had gone out The one on the right was lit second

My Own's Experience:

Phul's water is more syrupy for me, it felt like something akin to an arrow-like energy going down my throat. speed, fluid, fast, and intense. sheen and glow is there definitely.

exactly it felt like metal liquid exactly and it was far easier to drink than before I did have the glow and other "transformation" going inside the body but it's something Och told me not to disclose like everything from setup to drink is okay but once it goes in my mouth I shouldn't talk about what happens "inside" after the taste

Phaleg's Ritual Experience

W.F Phaleg water felt heavy In that it almost gained mass Like blood No metal taste but definitely the consistency of blood. There was this mystic rush about it to, a sort of sense Of "Lets not dilly dally and do what we set out to do" Shortest evocation on record My Experience

I share the sentiment of the blood like syrup like consistency I was gonna say I felt like I was drinking a weapon

Ophiel's Ritual Experience

My Experience: Ophiel water was interesting he said to drink a lil bit first then drink the rest about an hour or so afterwards at first the water was "light" and feathery almost like the water had no wait nor "substance" but it didn't feel like stale bottled water when I came just a few minutes or so ago the water was considerably heavier and felt like it weighed more it's almost felt like a mix between the Moon at first then the Sun/Mars afterward! the mixed mercurial nature showed up in the water! like it is fluctuating

I prayed to Ophiel to help me "thug it out" this week and finish a whole cycle without skipping any even though he mentioned that the pace I am going at is considerably too strong I told him just to finish this week and then I will take a break

W.F. Was going to skip today...

I forced myself To do it Or rather As I wrote message above My nose tingled and I sneezed And my body started to heat up which woke it up And a thought entered my head "The adversary takes many forms"

Bethor's Ritual Experience

My Experience

Alright, the water was a lot more lighter than I expected but I definitely felt it was more "heavenly" or "aerial". The biggest hit is the message of reflection, having a clear image of what I am coming into this for. I feel like that's why bethor is a lot more hard-hitting than the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. He didn't have as much "Punch" as the other but he definitely commended respect or I felt the respect is just radiating from him toward me and from me toward him he definitely felt like

"are you really gonna drink that water?" "the water can only gain the blessings because it is clear, if it wasn't clear it wouldn't have been able to gain any virtue" "If you don't have a clear vision or you can't conceive a clear vivid breathing image of what you want then expect problems and side effects to happen" "You're like the water, it have a few dusts but if you don't make it clear then expect that the results will be vague, be more precise, have a clear image and the results will come" "you and your friend doing this, should have a clear image of what you guys want out of it and then your mileage will go higher" felt compelled to leave a bit of the water

W.F.'s Experience

My glass spilled today Only a bit was left on the bottom I will definitely take heed of what Bethor said

Hagith's Ritual Experience

W.F.'s Experience

Hagith water Like flower water with a slight dryness akin to spirits.

Here's a pro tip, spin the water into a spiral. Magnetic fields work their way through movement. I remember my mother buying these magnets on a stirring stick to magnetise water when we were children.

Today's presence was definitely felt I'm building up more authority in my evocation as I keep going. I feel like I'm evoking attention when I start the aphorism 21 Like going onto a stage and calling for attention. I feel awareness "turn" toward me

Im just back to wondering how does one become independent/self sufficient with this. I guess its about positioning. Its hard to enter the subtler worlds without help. Its possible but hard. So you ask help. I'm just wondering what these spirits derive from answering our call. If its entertainment Or influence I can only speculate I don't believe that its malign. But its interesting nonetheless.

My Experience

Very nourishing, like a cool fresh drink Ngl have to be honest I don't think I can live with normal water anymore, even outside of arbatel working the amplifying/magnetized water is just so good to drink It's like just a source of "healing" water ngl it's amazing

Aratron Ritual Experience

My Experience with it:

the water have a slight "tick" or "hit" like a needle prickly in back of throat feeling. I definitely felt like the whole arbatel water stuff is building up tension in my body as well because I am starting to feel tension of changes/transformation going on a bit so first thing aratron said was to chill/relax a bit . I just disassembled it and drank all the water of aratron consecrated and he definitely brought up the same topic of Bethor of taking stock/inventory of my goals with practice which is something I should be doing and will do tomorrow on paper there's an exercise by B.M from his book metaphysical empowerment I will post it here tomorrow's morning, similar admonishment of Bethor of where do you think you're going?

The other topic he brought up is that uncertainty is more genuine than certainty and being uncertain isn't exactly a bad thing. because it is okay to be uncertain and work stuff slowly along as you begin to slowly understand the world. There's nothing wrong with going a wrong way or even if one's practice is unconventional because what matter is that slow unfolding of it.

In regard to your inquiry W.F's about what do spirit get out of helping us, Aratron gave an analogy then a more direct explanation of it afterward. The analogy he gave is that of opening window and closing screen, you can open a window to get sunlight and sunlight does come into the room but that doesn't mean flies, insects, and other wild animals can't jump from the opened window but if you have a screen(which is the entity or spirit) then it acts as a screen/filter for the direct unfiltered energy of the planet or the universe. It's not a perfect analogy but the explanation of Aratron is that it is closer to Symbiotic relationship but it's not exactly parasitic symbiotic relationship here. It's more of, if you come willingly offering light and giving more agency to the spirit then the spirit would, The spirit would be more to giving adjustment and guidance as they gain more agency and access to the world through us, if they're screen to their world then we are screen to our world and we can bring them stuff they can't get themselves and they can help us with stuff that are initially harder for us. So it goes both way like a hexagram ✡️ .

Another point that is we need to stop the Eucharist operation as going for 2 weeks of it is enough for now and we need to "integrate" or let it run it's course instead of keeping on pushing for more and more as our body might not be able to handle the pressure/stress of it, it is probably better to take space and let it run it's course without going for another cycle. that's it

W.F.'s Experience Aratron presence was really felt. I don't know if that's me getting better at perceiving or his presence being heavy due to Saturn As for the water, it felt surprisingly light and clear. Like a mountain spring, "the well of life" was a sentence that came to mind as I drank it, which is odd considering its Saturn. I felt a definite finality to this working as Aratron had few "words" for me considering that you already relayed his message.

CONCLUSION

Finally! that's it...is there any more to say? This is very experimental and this is clearly from chat/discord. I think it's more important to be honest and realistic about the stuff and thing that actually happen instead of just giving stuff a veneer of professionality, I rather people read the Raw experiences of working. This was recorded and done on October 2024, I hope that it help people who read it. Thank you for reading this far :)

#ritual experience #ritual #prayer #eucharist #magic #witchblr #theurgy #grimoire #arbatel #water magic #ritual magic #magick #occult #folk magic #invocation #spellwork #witchcraft #occultism #rituals

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whimsical-roasting · 1 year ago

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Jamie comforts you after a long day (pt 1)

okay so this was meant to be entirely nsfw but tumblr has a character limit (tf??)... haven't written Jamie in SO long..

if it sucks - close ur eyes?? if it's good - tell me cause i have a praise kink <3

You come home after a long day following an already long week…hell, it’s been a long fucking year, hasn’t it?

Technically, this isn’t your home cause you’re on Jamie’s boujie couch, eyes closed and head resting against the back. Gotta admit shit’s comfy. You got in with your spare key and dumped your bags and stuff by the side of the couch

You just need a moment…just one fucking minute where your body and mind aren’t moving. You don’t even know where Jamie is, but he’s definitely somewhere in the house. You tell yourself that you’ll get up and look for him, just maybe after 2 minutes

You honestly don’t need to wait long because you hear the sound of footsteps padding down the stairs. You call out a tired “Hey!” and keep your eyes closed... You don’t get a response, and honestly, for a few moments, you’re too tired to care, but just as you’re opening your eyes, Jamie’s in front of you

“Hey, love”, he murmurs with a small smile as he sits next to you, one leg under himself and body tilted to face you

His hand is stretched out to you, holding a glass: ice cold water. You get an involuntary smile, accepting the glass and instantly bringing it to your lips. That first crisp taste of liquid goodness genuinely makes you swear this shit must be medicinal.

Jamie’s index finger traces the wet stain made on your pants from the droplets of condensation that fell from the glass. He doesn’t say anything for a second, just observing your state. He’s come to know the different things you have on your plate - your work, academic shit, the schedule that never seems to be on your side, not giving you a bloody break.

But with his training, matches, and social obligations, as well as your own workload and energy levels, there’s been little opportunity to deep dive into how you’re holding up

“How’s stuff?” he ventures out, studying your face. Honestly, the way you inhale deeply, like your body is trying to gear up energy just to respond, makes him frown

You set the glass down on the coffee table and turn to face him. “Stress isn’t exactly what I’m feeling..” you start, trying to make sense of it yourself. Jamie’s fingers are tracing circles on the inside of your palm as he waits for you to continue

“It’s like- like- ugh fuck me… it’s like I’m so busy and tired! Million fucking things to do and apparently I’m the only one who can do em… And god, I spend my entire time taking care of others and handling shit! I like it, and I’m good at it - don’t get me wrong, Jaim - but fucks sake.” You start ranting, heavier on the cuss words because what else is gonna convey the weight of everything?

Jamie opens his mouth to speak but closes it when you continue

“And my roommate’s a grumpy little sh- ugh, no, it’s not that bad. I mean, if you’ve dealt with Roy, then I can’t complain about em… I’m just not used to angry people all the time. It’s like fucking-” your eyes jump around the room, trying to put into words what it’s like “-eggshells! Walking on eggshells! But forget it, that’s not even a big deal… it’s just another thing,” you mumble with a huff.

Jamie doesn’t like how you’re so dismissive. He’d jump in and tell you that it does matter, and if your roommate is even an ounce like Roy, then that must feel like shit. It took Jamie a while to adjust to the way Roy’s anger was when he first joined Richmond, and that’s just the locker room. Fuck, imagine that type of energy in your living space. Jamie debated how he could beat that roommate up in a way that wouldn’t cause you problems, but his thoughts ceased fire when you admitted the final part of your frustrations

“AND, we haven’t had... Yknow…” Your initial awkwardness around the topic catches his attention, but a smirk makes its way onto his face once he realises what you’re referring to.

“I’ve just been exhausted, and you’ve been busy…but god, I need some…some... Fuckin hell, I need sex. I miss our sex. You’re so fucking good at it too,” you grumble the last part quietly and Jamie just snickers

You glance at him, and that stupid smug smirk on his face makes you wanna kiss him stupid. Is this asshole really amused by your suffering? And why the fuck does he look so hot whilst being so??

“Babe.. just-” he debates saying ‘calm down’ but come on, even he’s not stupid enough to say that to a woman. Instead, he smiles softly and grabs your hands. Ducking his head, he kisses your knuckles, then your palm, and then your inner wrist before glancing up at you.

“You’re overworking yourself, and you know that, love,” he sighs and continues, “Just cause we both know you’re more than capable of it, dun mean it’s a good idea… maybe you’ve got too much on your plate, and the only thing you feel is exhausted.”

“Also, babe, we’re gonna fuckin address the roommate shit, so don’t think you’re brushing that off,” he gives you a knowing look as you shrink a bit into the couch.

Not liking the (loving) scrutiny of his eyes, you defensively push back, “So you’re just gonna ignore what I said about the sex thing?”

This causes Jamie’s eyes to light up, and that stupid smug smirk returns to his lips. “Nah, never said that. Just wanted to be a proper gentleman and address me girlfriend’s problems in order.”

You roll your eyes at him, but it’s clearly loving… when it comes to Jamie, all your looks are loving…mostly.

He grins at you, “Now, onto the real issue,” and you shoot him a deadpan, unamused look that causes him to bark out a laugh.

“I’m joking!” he holds his hands up defensively.

He reaches over and brushes your hair behind your ear, looking you in the eyes. “You need to switch off that beautiful brain of yours. And you need somebody to take care of ya for once.”

All you can do is blush and nod cause he makes a good point; you do need that, and more importantly, you crave it.

(go to part 2)

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #ted lasso x reader

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angiethebangie · 5 days ago

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˗ˏˋ★CH 5: TRUTH IGNITES TRUST (DV)★ˎˊ˗

NOTE: I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG ON THIS, it's a much shorter chapter, but a fairly important one I'd say. I've been rewriting some of the scenes in past chapters since I wasn't very happy with how they turned out. I'll be sure to update you guys on how that goes. Anyways, I’m gonna go drop dead in my bed, enjoy! <3

_________

The silence engulfed them as Asta and Noelle’s bickering finally dulled down, leaving behind two drained Bulls.

Honestly though, he’d be more concerned if they weren’t tired after all that. Casually fighting a swarm of angels, returning with mountains of injuries, and then proceeding to argue over the most absurd topic imaginable? If there was one thing he took away from this, it’d be that the Black Bulls were the strangest group he’d ever come across.

It was impressive, really. Both their energy and the way they’d somehow managed to draw out some surprisingly genuine laughs out of him.

Finral wasn’t sure what to think about them.

That seed of doubt Vanessa had unknowingly planted in him? Yeah, it sprouted. And it was growing at a terrifyingly quick rate, twisting into something that was impossible to ignore. A real pity, considering that Finral wasn’t the best gardener.

His eyes shifted back onto Vanessa. Finral was a light sleeper, like, a really light sleeper. The amount of times he’d jolted awake in the middle of the night because of a bush rustling or a branch tapping against his window was downright comical. So Vanessa being able to sleep through Asta and Noelle’s—let’s be honest, shouting —as though it was second nature made Finral almost envy her ability to tune out such noises.

That was a kind of peace he craved for. Especially since he was running on three hours of sleep practically every night. Maybe four, on a good day.

He felt his lips press into a thin line when his stare caught the now bandaged injuries. Despite her being out cold, breathing steady and untroubled, he couldn’t stop the nagging sense of guilt that clung to him like an old, familiar weight.

Finral clenched his fists, nails digging into the fragile skin as he shook his head, hoping that physically doing so would dispel the dark thoughts from spiraling any further. He was disappointed to see that it hadn’t done much. The weight persisted, getting heavier. Just like it always did.

A disgruntled sigh left his mouth, its volume relatively low, but in the empty atmosphere felt startlingly loud.

Unfortunately for him, the Captain’s sharp perception didn’t miss a single thing. Finral didn’t have to look to know he was being observed. Yami had been staring at him ceaselessly ever since he bore witness to Finral’s reaction to that… letter.

It was a little unsettling, his stare annoyingly casual and unreadable, but not dismissive. He really didn’t think he was that interesting. Besides, there wasn’t much to look at. By now, though, he was too drained to care, the confusion and self-doubt long since acquainted with him.

What was one more person scrutinizing the wreckage in his mind? It wasn’t like it would make much of a difference.

So, trying his best to brush aside the searching look, he opted to tilt his head back, letting his gaze drift upwards. Finral had always found solace in the sky, especially at night.

But this time, he felt little comfort in what he saw. The sky looked wrong.

Finral didn’t realize how far down the Abyss was until now. Everything felt so much farther away. The familiar warmth of the sun’s beams were absent, replaced by chilling gusts of wind. The fluffy, wispy clouds that often carried rosy pink hues were exchanged for dense, smokey gray ones that covered the entirety of the sky. Now that Finral registered it, the sky had been like that for hours now, and it still showed no signs of dispersing.

Almost like this was the regular for them.

His frown deepened, slowly becoming hyper aware of how out of place he really was. Instinctively, his arms crossed over each other, pressing up against his chest as he curled into himself, goosebumps becoming more prominent.

Back in Nirvana, the sky was never dull, always shining with an array of colors that made it feel so much closer than it really was. Walking anywhere in Nirvana guaranteed the sight of golden rays spilling across perfectly chiseled streets. The sunlight had been (and still was) one of the only things he actually appreciated about the place.

Here, though? The sunlight barely touched the Abyss’s surface, passing right by as if forgetting it even existed. Those same dreary, gray shadows dominated, leaving the demons no choice but to litter every corner with some sort of illumination in hopes of brightening it up even a little. They lacked so many things that most angels took for granted. Everyday.

And wasn’t that just depressing?

Even now, it puzzled him. Angels in Nirvana had everything. Wealth, education, property. Everything they could ever possibly want right at their fingertips. Yet, none of them were ever truly satisfied. Finral knew this all too well, having been raised in the very manner owned by the one and only Vaude lineage.

Unlucky enough to have a childhood where all he was told was that he ‘tainted the Vaude’s family name’ just by being born, he’d seen it all. They lived in perpetual, mindless overconsumption, buying material goods in hopes of filling that empty spot in their hearts. Stuffing their homes with unnecessary things, entertaining themselves with shallow conversations and superficial speeches, hosting prodigal parties just for the sake of it. The list never ended.

Although he’d always found those parties suffocating, it was normal for him. At the time, that was just how life was.

But then, there were the demons…

They had less. So much less.

Though, for some reason, more of them seemed happier. It was subtle, but Finral had always been good at picking up little details. In the way they laughed together, instead of at each other. The way they carried themselves, walking comfortably and distinctively.

Something told Finral that their honesty played a part in all this.

Compared to up there, the environment was much more… welcoming, in a twisted sort of way. He still couldn’t help the paranoia that struck him every time he walked alone in the Abyss’s equivalent of a marketplace. But, so far, nothing happened.

No one attempted to start empty small talk. No one shot him a strained, insincere smile.

And besides the stares, no one necessarily treated him like a big deal.

Which was probably his favorite part, if he were being honest. No one down here knew who he was, or knew how he wasn’t good enough. It felt like—like there were no expectations.

From what he observed, every relationship down here was built on trust. Which took time to earn. He’d never experienced it himself, and doubted that he ever would. Which was okay with him. Even if he did, under some miracle, have someone put their trust in him, he knew that he’d eventually fail them anyways. It was better to keep to himself. Safer, that way.

He couldn’t disappoint someone who never believed in him to begin with, right?

Rolling his shoulders back, the ache returned, refusing to ease. The tension was woven so deeply into his body that it felt almost permanent. That couldn’t be very healthy for him. But, what’d he know?

Finral exhaled a long breath from his nose, hand tangling in his hair and pulling just hard enough to feel that relieving sting of pain.

Seemingly, not much.

No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts swirled like it was an overfilled cup, tipping dangerously from every nudge towards the truth. A part of him wanted to ignore it, stay blissfully unaware of whatever sickening schemes were being disguised as heroic deeds. But, another part of him—a much, much bigger part—desperately needed to know.

Whether or not he could handle it was a problem for later.

“Alright,” Yami’s gruff voice cut through the blur in Finral’s mind like a sharp katana. “You’ve sat on your asses long enough, time to head back.”

Finral dragged his gaze down from the sky, directing it towards the Captain. He blinked, disoriented, and not fully processing his words. Back?

Asta perked up almost instantly, his foot tapping restlessly against the stone ground. Even Noelle looked a little relieved, her posture relaxing at the mere mention of going back.

Back where, you might ask? Great question, Finral was wondering the same thing.

In his usual unbothered stance, Yami glanced over at Finral. “Hey, Featherhead.” His wings puffed up on their own, the mentioned feathers straightening out as though equally offended by the nickname.

“ Featherhead?” The indignant shriek came out of his mouth before his mind could catch up.

Yami—the shameless bastard—just grinned at him, looking far too pleased with himself, before continuing on as if he hadn’t insulted every living being with wings that ever existed. “Think you can open one of those fancy portals to our base?”

Finral’s indignation was topped with another scoop of confusion. Sorry, base?

They had a base. He thought they were just a bunch of jumbled demons who formed a group to reach a common goal of sorts. But, he had no idea they were this serious about their roles. An entire base?

“Wait, wait—when did you guys have a base?”

Finral thought his question was perfectly reasonable. Apparently, he was the only one who thought that.

Yami arched a brow, grin widening just a little. “Yeah. Didn’t think we lived in a ditch, did ya?”

Shaking his head, perhaps a little too vigorously, Finral sputtered for a second before gaining back control of his composure. “I- no! No, obviously not. It’s just- a base? I mean, what are you guys, some secret Military Agents or something?”

“Hell no. But hey, you’re making us sound a lot cooler that way.” He shrugged, releasing a puff of smoke that unraveled, drifting in the same direction the wind blew.

And of course, you couldn’t have scoops of indignation and confusion without finishing off with a sprinkle of amusement. You know, just to balance it out.

He glanced away from Yami, biting his lip as his nerves once more stole the spotlight. The Captain asked him to portal them to the base, which wouldn’t be an issue if he knew where the base was.

Seeing as how he just now discovered they even had a base to begin with, Finral could only make a few assumptions.

“Uh, I…can’t. Portal you there, that is,” he admitted, voice dropping despite himself, unsure of how it would be received. “My magic doesn’t work like that. I can’t portal somewhere I’ve never been before.”

The words hung heavy in the air, the delivery coming out much more timorous than he intended. Finral didn’t know what he was expecting. He just knew it wouldn’t be good. The usual—annoyance, frustration, disappointment—the same ones he’d constantly be met with in Nirvana, no matter how hard he tried. A mistake always has consequences. Always.

And Finral tended to make a lot of those.

The Captain paused, lazily scratching at his stubble with that same unreadable expression that he seemingly enjoyed gluing to his face.

Finral happened to be good at reading people, so it was a little maddening that he struggled to translate most of the emotions flashing on Yami’s face. That ability would be especially useful at the moment.

But, he’d have to make due. As long as he prepared for the stinging words that were about to come, it’ll hurt much le—

“Huh. Makes sense.” Yami shrugged, unbothered.

Unbothered? What?

Why was he so unbothered? Wasn’t this the part where he was supposed to get mad?

He blinked, completely thrown for a loop. There was no yelling. No disgruntled muttering. No disappointed sighs. Just—acceptance?

Yami tilted his head back, gesturing impassively to his right. “Then portal us somewhere nearby, or somethin’. Doesn’t matter.”

Staring for a second longer, he swallowed down the lump lodged in his throat. Nodding slowly, he replied, “uh… yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

The Captain didn’t give him much to work with, if at all. Though, using simple deduction, Finral figured somewhere secluded would make the most sense. A forest was likely his safest bet.

Taking a deep breath that Finral felt was necessary to clear his head, he closed his eyes, trying to remember the towering trees he saw when wandering around earlier. Focusing his mana, he felt a familiar pull in his chest as a glistening portal began to form, stars flickering faintly at its edges.

In the split of a second, the portal accommodated its size for the figures preparing to walk through it.

Just as it stabilized, Finral took a step back, opening his mouth to warn them about the usual safety precautions. Spatial magic wasn’t something to be taken lightly—not even by him.

The more familiar with a place he was, the easier forming a portal becomes. However, that went both ways. The less familiar he was with a place, the more room that left for errors.

And in spatial magic, errors were dangerous.

But before he could get a single word out, Asta let out an excited whoop, leaping onto his feet and (quite literally) launching himself straight through the portal like a cannonball. Without a single ounce of hesitation.

Finral’s jaw dropped. “Wait—! Asta, I didn’t-“

Too late. He was long gone.

Noelle, standing nearby with her typical air of indifference, simply sighed as though this was a daily occurrence. With everything he’s seen so far, that probably wasn’t too improbable of an assumption. Sparing a glance at the portal, her eyes lingered on the shimmering light. For a split second, Finral could’ve sworn he saw a flicker of something bordering on… admiration?

With slightly more hesitance, yet just as little precaution as Asta, she strode through without another word. Her posture was confident and graceful, as though walking through an unpredictable portal was as mundane as walking through the market to buy groceries.

He felt his breath get stuck in his throat for possibly the hundredth time he’d been in the Abyss.

Who does that? They met only hours ago, and the two of them walked in without a single ounce of self-preservation. What if the portal was unstable? What if it led to the wrong place?

His bottom feathers dimly glowed as he continued to hold open the portal, standing there dumbfounded. Finral felt his heart race for reasons he couldn’t understand.

Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, Yami moved towards Vanessa, effortlessly scooping her up like she weighed nothing. To him, she probably did. Breathing softly and steadily, the succubus’s head lolled against his shoulder, not stirring in the slightest. Seriously, how deep of a sleeper is she?

As Yami prepared to walk through, just as the other two had, Finral’s mouth opened on instinct, the words tumbling out.

“Woah—wait! Why did they just… why are you-” Finral silently cursed himself for his tangled up tongue. It shouldn’t be this difficult to form a single sentence.

Yami paused, glancing at him over his shoulder. His dark eyes met Finral’s, sharp and holding that same infuriating expression that he couldn’t decipher if his life depended on it. The man’s lips were pulled into a frown that looked a touch softer than usual. He didn’t say a word, just stared.

Finral looked down, breaking eye contact as one hand found his temple. This was ridiculous. It was beyond ridiculous how torn he felt about such a simple action. All they did was walk through his stupid portal.

Without a single question, and without a single doubt, that is.

“You just met me. You don’t know my intentions, or-or how much control I have over my magic! What if the portal leads to a… death trap, or something?”

He was reaching, Finral was well aware, but he needed to get the Captain to understand how reckless that was.

“Well, does it?” His tone was low, but no less composed.

Finral tilted his head back up. His stare was the most intense it’s been since their first meeting, with that same focused look he had when he caught Finral tugging on his feather.

It made him feel like he spilt something he hadn’t meant to.

“...No, but-“

“Then what’s the issue?” His gaze lingered for a few beats longer before he turned his head back around, fixing his grip on Vanessa before sauntering into the shimmering gateway. Finral stood there frozen, the words replaying in his head like a broken record.

What’s the issue?

He forced his feet to move, feeling slightly light-headed from holding open the portal for so long. Finral (gracefully) staggered after the Black Bulls. With a shut of his fist, the portal dissipated in the blink of an eye, his illuminated feathers flickering back to normal.

For a brain that thrived off theoretical questions, it was incredibly useless at explaining ones he actually needed to know the answer for.

What was the issue?

Was there even any issue?

#ao3 fanfic #angels and demons #finral roulacase #finral roulacase x yami sukehiro #finral x yami #vanessa enoteca #alternate universe #angst with a happy ending #yami sukehiro #black clover #noelle silva #asta black clover

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aeroblossom · 7 months ago

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narcissus without water; sou hiyori

i wasn't gonna post this here because i really reaaally hate it but ehhh fuck it we ball. 3-1 unused intro spoilers. does that even count. kanna route implied.

In the aftermath is cold. Icy, chilling cold. The immense rush of the impact lasted but a moment. Time is a fleeting thing for all who live, whether the hearts beating in their chests are made of muscle, or of metal; whether the circuits powering them and every moment of madness, every second of passion, every victory and every mistake, are made of grey matter, or of a network of microscopic transistors.

The merciless weapon, which had moments ago pierced through his torso, now meets him eye to eye. As if a deeply loyal animal that was too loved to know when to retract its claws, destroying everything in its path to be close to the one it owes its devotion to. Through flickering sparks in one eye, and slowly blurring vision in the other, he stares. He smells blood. The sight of it would not bother him in the slightest had it been someone else it was coming out of. But when you've lived as he has, blood seeping from a wound feels unnatural. And he'd started to believe he was finally rid of the last vestiges of his humanity. Red drips down the side of his face, from the grey matter in his skull that still held proof of something human. The emotion centers of his brain were dysfunctional since he came into the world. So really, it matters little to him. He can barely even feel the pain.

The thing that upsets him more is the red on his chest. It doesn't trickle down from his crown, but spurts from the gaping wound in his center. Sparks fire in all directions, somewhere in his ears he hears a low ringing of both his organic bodily systems as well as mechanical ones. The gears cry emergency, the cells cry of death. A realization supplied by his mechanical logic center creeps slowly into the back of his head, surrounding him fully until he submerges in acceptance. He has little time left.

Eyes the color of sea glass stare at nothing in particular, yet keep darting about, aimless, anxious perhaps, but with unmistakable defeat in them. Little light penetrates the coffin, brought in only by the gaping hole created by the drill. It illuminates a straight stripe across his now ruined body, one bright seafoam gaze and tousled mess of green last in the light's path. Dust particles shimmer like gold specks, his contemplative eyes fixating on their fluttering dance.

He hears distant voices, he thinks, if his audio faculties are even functioning by now. Crying - pained voices, happy voices. Meister's scrawny tone, and determined words from the young girl with copper hair. They must be huddling together right now. Allies. Cooperates. A team spirit reignited.

Petty emotion lurches inside him, wanting to shatter that nonsensical resolve with his own hands. He knows how to. Even now, it would not take much -

No.

It's over.

Defeat weighs heavier than how it first felt to have your flesh replaced by porcelain. It's heavier than the volume of crimson flowing from the wound in his chest. Not that he has needed to breathe in a long time, but here, now, he suddenly feels breathless.

Silence is the mind's curtain call. Contemplation weaves its way through his thoughts, thoughts that will soon fade. Thoughts that are firing wildly due to the vast amount of information being processed in these final moments, alongside a slow system shutdown.

It's a bit like he's dreaming with his eyes open, if you think about it like that.

Ah. He's wasted so much energy in meaningless thoughts. Not that it truly mattered at this point. Right... where had he gone wrong?

Hiyori, Sou. Assumed age, twenty. An easily recognizable mop of green hair, tied down at the ends into a neat rattail that didn't match how the rest of his hair looked. The nickname they gave him was his namesake hair. Tall, fairly lithe. Eyes a deeper colour than the hair, like pure, vibrant jade. Plainly, more than half of him was doll, and the vestiges human. What were once the tender hands of a real human are now porcelain and alabaster. Gears tick inside the system, rhythmic, he was a mechanical harmony. Occasionally interrupted by remnant humanity.

Living, breathing red pumped from his heart, no matter how much he'd separated himself from flesh and blood. The proximity of that living heart to electrical equipment gave him a quicker heartbeat than most. The proof of this regnant humanness now bled and ripped itself apart. He thinks he feels a bit of pain. This is probably the only physical pain he's felt since the last time he had real hands.

But it's not what he'd thought it'd be like. It does hurt, it hurts so much. Yet something else hurts a little more, something that rises from a faulty limbic system and creeps down in physical form to become surging pain in his core.

He observes, silently, the ache surge in intensity as the voices continue to speak. Words, thoughts, emotion, memory rapid fires in his mind. He tries to recall the path he'd taken so far, wanting to make out what error he had made to make him up end like this. This would not do, after all.

But no matter how he tries to focus on this endeavor, a recurring feeling scratches inside him. A sharp pain, tearing him into two. He feels he recognizes it as something from impossibly long ago. Suddenly, he realizes, in that silent grave of his, that he was entirely alone in this death. His heartbeat begins to ring into his ears alongside the periodic beeping of his system going into overdrive.

System warnings, words ringing in his head, and the wildly pounding heart, all converge like oil and paint into a wretched musica humana.

It's really stupid. Hilarious, in fact.

He wasn't human. He hadn't been so for a considerably long time, as far as himself was concerned. Death... to him, wasn't it trivial? An infinite amount of copies of himself can be made. It's meaningless, however many times he dies.

...And yet, here he was.

Does Hiyori Sou feel? Does he regret? Does he hurt?

Does this largely doll, barely human, ever find himself lonely?

In the moments that follow, the emotion that grips him next is sheer horror. At not just these intrusive questions, but his body's physical reaction to it.

Something clouds his vision much more heavily than before. What little he could see before him twists into an oil painting, unrecognizable, an intense pain radiates inside his neck, like strangulation. And then he heaves a sigh as a singular, pearlescent tear streams down his face.

He can hear Meister's scratchy voice from a while ago, before any of this. Before all of this.

So you can cry too.

He had said, as Hiyori leaned against his screen and shed tears at the sight before him. Him, of all people, mourning - it was, of course, an unbelievable sight. At the time, he had found it jestly insulting that Meister would imply he couldn't cry or feel such emotion. So what makes this different? Why does it feel so different?

Ah, it really does feel like the entire world is making a mockery out of him. But perhaps this is a fitting end for himself. Villain he was born, villain he will die.

Death holds little meaning to someone like him.

It's almost time. His thoughts begin to slow down to a grinding halt.

He faintly registers some shifting sounds. The coffin he resided in is being laid flat on the ground. Will it be opened next? Will they see him like this?

A light slam signals to him that the coffin has been taken down. The drill carefully withdraws, now leaving only his mauled body behind. The sound of dust and rocks crumbling, and then light filters into the depths. Though it gets brighter and brighter, he finds his world only becoming darker.

Meister is the one lifting the lid. He has it propped up with one hand, the other on his knee as he knelt down, chewing on a cigarette, inspecting what he was seeing with a careful, suspicious, and yet rather surprised expression. Tia Safalin stands beside him, one hand on her chest and the other seemingly reaching out to touch him in the coffin. He knows hearing is beyond him when he sees the anxious woman mouth his name, when he watches them talk amongst themselves, and can't make out any of it. It's probably too late to worry about what it could be.

The crying doll leans down, placing one hand to his face. As if the plaster skin wasn't stiff enough, he finds himself turning into what may as well be stone. She inspects his head wound. He can't move his eyes anymore to follow her actions, but he can still vaguely feel them. The small hand moves down slowly, tracing a line across his face and down his chest, analytic. She shakes her head with a sigh upon the damage to his torso.

It's really over for him, isn't it?

Her finger ghosts its way back up, this time lingering on his face. He notices the slight dumbfoundedness in her expression, pressing slightly to make sure she was seeing right - the tear stains on his cheek. He wants to smile, all of a sudden, but he no longer can.

As she concludes her inspection and stands up, hiding her expression with that stupendous hat, he faintly wonders if she's crying too. Is she crying for him? No... that would be ridiculous. There wasn't anyone left who could cry for him. In death as he was in life, alone.

Mere moments remain for him, and he wonders, for the final time - should he have led a different life, would there be comrades by his side? Does there exist a world in which Hiyori Sou, too, has allies?

Vibrant seafoam eyes darken like a wilting flower, unable to make out anything clearly, shedding one final tear.

#I like to think that the one part of him that remains human is his heart #or in other words #one big human heart #gently beeping.......#this is so shittily made i think i'm gonna be publicly executed for it #then again to be cooked over midori is just fine with me #people with no media literacy when you humanize the villain #ill delete this if i hate it enough #the ability to write leaving my body when i realize i have to actually finish the fic #midori yttd #kimi ga shine #yttd #your turn to die #sou hiyori

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pjisskullourful · 1 year ago

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still no progress to share, but i do have a shitton of works in progress that i can share previews for. gonna post them every now& then& i really hope you find something to like

this first one is ethan& its the beginning of the fic called

HAPPY MEAL

wordcount: 1,108 (explicit shit)

“I want you to sit on my face.” Your boyfriend said, his tone needier than what you had gotten used to hearing over the past three months.

Your first thought was of how you were going to get out of this. Luckily, you had an excuse to be avoiding Ethan’s eye right now, facing the bathroom mirror as you brushed your hair. He was behind you, towelling off after the shower that the two of you had shared.

Your cheeks were filled with heat and the insecurities were swarming your system. Despite it being an exciting offer, you were more apprehensive than anything else and you bit on your bottom lip a little.

You had never sat on anyone’s face. Nobody before Ethan had offered it. And you hadn’t requested it of anyone - classifying yourself as ‘too big’ for that particular sex act. You held realistic perceptions of your weight and you stayed within the parameters of what could be done with your heavier than normal body.

He must have been offering it as a means of repaying you for all of the times that you had gone down on him - he was extremely polite like that. But, even as the insides of your thighs twitched, all that you could think of were the risks that went with resting your body weight on his gorgeous face. He could get an uncomfortable crick in his neck, or sustain much worse injuries if it took you too long to finish and climb off.

“I don’t know how you would have the energy for anything like that, weren’t you just saying how tired you were, like, five seconds after you came?” You asked, referring to the hand-job that you had given him in the shower.

“Well maybe the view that I’m getting right now is better than any espresso shot and I’m back to being wide awake.” He said. After returning his towel to the track, he had taken a seat on the closed toilet lid, looking at the back of you.

“Wow, my booty is more fuckin’ powerful that I knew.” You said with a giggle as you set the hairbrush down.

“Are you saying that you don’t want me to eat you out?” He asked.

“I’m kind of busy braiding my hair.” You continued to deflect. You were working your damp hair into two braids, this would hopefully result in you having cute waves in your hair for the next couple of days.

He stood up, approaching where you stood at the vanity. He came into the reflection, his serious face much more difficult to avoid looking at now. “If you don’t feel like it and you wanna just go to bed, that’s totally fine, I never wanna pressure you, honey. But you made me feel so good and I wanna return the favour. You’ve more than earned a treat from me.” Your eyes met his, your fingers working on auto-pilot. “I’m not tired anymore, I’ve got all of the energy that I need to enjoy this amazing body.”

You cleared your throat, you had been getting more heated with each word that he said. You secured the tail of this first plait with an elastic. “I was never really all that tired…”

He smiled and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Fantastic, so be my bedtime snack…”

Before starting the second braid, you turned to look at him and secured the next kiss on your lips. “I’ll meet you in there.”

With both of your roommates working the night shift, you and Ethan were free to walk around the house naked. There were also no restrictions on how loud you could get during sex.

You finished your plaiting and left for the bedroom. He hadn’t pulled on any clothes, just lying out on your bed. As he waited for you, he had started looking at something on his phone.

The device was set aside as soon as you climbed onto the bed with him. His eyes greedily took in the sight of you, probably making a running order of all the things he wanted to do to you.

But the look on his face changed when you laid down next to him, flat on your back. He lifted his head from the pillow, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t believe what he was currently seeing.

“What are you doing? I said that I wanted you to sit on my face.” He said.

For something to do, you started to pick at the already-chipped polish on your fingernails. “I know, but…”

He rolled onto his side, facing you. “What’s wrong? Is something the matter, ‘cause we can just cuddle if you’re not feeling it after all.”

“It’s not that. You can always make me feel it. It’s just that…”

He leaned in, coming into your field of vision. “What is it? Can you look at me, please?”

You sighed and raised your eyes, meeting his gaze. His stare was like a truth ray, you had told him this before - it was one of the reasons that you had been able to get vulnerable with him in the earlier stages of your relationship.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You said.

“What are you talking… Do you mean my feelings? ‘Cause I’m a big boy and I can definitely take it if you tell me that you’re not into a position.”

“No, I mean physically.” You said. “What if I, like, break your nose?”

He gave a little laugh, which you couldn’t join in on. “You’re not gonna break my nose.”

“There are other ways that you could get hurt.” You said in a small voice.

He picked up your hand with both of his. “And I’m not worried about any of them. Honestly, I think you’re seeing a disaster where there isn’t one. Like one of those psychics who predicts that the end of the world is super soon, but it never happens.” He lifted your hand and began placing kisses to each of your fingers. “I wish you’d just give it a chance. We both have such a great time when I’m eating you out. So why can’t we do this?”

“Ethan…” You said with another sigh. “You’re making it really hard to say no.”

"So don't say no." He said, leaning in and kissing you softly. It was one of his slow kisses, the type that you felt like you could melt into. His kisses could shoot all of the other thoughts out of your mind, until you were just feeling, not thinking. And the intensity was always there, unlike anyone you had kissed before.

----- this is all i have written for this fic!! i genuinely dont know when i'll be posting a full fic again

#fic preview

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yourshiftersam533 · 5 months ago

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The experiment

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, but Katie didn't feel the usual sense of relief. She gathered her things slowly, the sound of lockers slamming and classmates chatting filling the hallway, but it all seemed distant, muffled. Her fingers felt cold as she shoved her books into her bag, her thoughts elsewhere. Her mind kept drifting back to the empty house, to her father's silence, to the nagging sense that something was terribly wrong.

She stood up from her desk, the weight of her backpack heavier than usual as she slung it over her shoulder. It wasn't just exhaustion weighing her down. There was an unease, a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't explain it, but she knew it wasn't just a passing thought. It was as if the air itself had thickened, like something was lurking just out of sight, waiting for her. The hallway seemed too loud, the noise of her classmates too sharp, too overwhelming. She just needed to get home. Needed to get to the silence.

"Katie!" someone called, and she turned to see Emily, one of her classmates, walking toward her with a big smile. "Are you coming to the park later?"

Katie gave a weak smile and shook her head, the words dying on her lips before she could speak. "I... I can't. I'm.. I'm just heading home."

Emily frowned slightly, noticing the way Katie's eyes darted toward the door. "Everything okay?" she asked gently, her voice filled with concern.

Katie nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just tired." She wanted to say more, wanted to explain the weird feeling in her chest, the way the world seemed to have shifted slightly out of place, but she didn't have the energy. She just couldn't. "See you tomorrow."

As she moved to walk past Emily, a voice rang out from behind her, sharp and mocking.

"Hey, look who's in a hurry. You gonna go home and make yourself disappear, just like your mom did?" It was Jesse, a boy who liked to think he was clever, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Katie stiffened, but she didn't stop walking. She tried to ignore him, but his words followed her.

"You're just like her, you know. No wonder no one wants to be around you. Bet you're already planning how to wipe us all out," another voice called, laughter following in its wake.

Katie's heart thudded in her chest, but she forced her legs to keep moving.

"Yeah, because we all know what a freak your mom was. Who knows what kind of powers you have?" Jesse added, his voice loud enough to catch the attention of others. "Maybe she's already taught you how to turn people into dust, huh, Katie? Gotta watch out, she might make us all disappear like her!"

The jeering laughs echoed through the hallway, but Katie refused to turn around. Her face flushed hot, her stomach twisting in knots. She quickened her pace, trying to escape the laughter, but it seemed to follow her.

As she pushed open the doors to the school, she heard one last comment from behind her.

"Better keep her away from the rest of us, she might end up killing us with one of her witch spells." The words sliced through the air, cruel and cutting, and Katie could hear the others snickering in the background.

She hurried out of the school building, her steps quick and hurried. The cool breeze hit her skin, but it wasn't the chill that made her shiver. It was the weight of their words, each one sinking deeper, pulling her further into the suffocating silence she just couldn't escape.

The feeling clung to her, gnawing at her insides. The world felt off, like the ground beneath her feet was unstable, and she could sense the eyes of her classmates lingering on her back as she walked.

She passed by the familiar landmarks the cracked sidewalk outside the old bakery, the faded park bench by the corner but they all seemed different, as if the world itself was bending around her. The cool breeze bit at her skin, but it wasn't the chill that made her shiver. It was the sense of dread hanging over her, the way everything felt just... off.

The walk home, usually comforting in its routine, felt like an endless stretch of time. Her footsteps echoed in the quiet streets, and with each one, the weight in her chest grew heavier. The house loomed ahead, empty and silent, waiting for her. And somehow, it didn't feel like a home anymore.

When she finally reached the door, she hesitated before stepping inside. She pushed the door open, the familiar creak echoing through the empty house. The cold air inside made her shiver, but it wasn't the chill of the room that had her shaking. It was the weight inside her chest, one she couldn't shake. She dropped her backpack onto the floor and kicked off her shoes, the feeling in the pit of her stomach only growing heavier. Something... felt wrong. It was like a sixth sense, a deep, gnawing instinct that she couldn't explain, but it prickled at her skin and tugged at the back of her mind. The silence, the absence of the usual noise in the house, was almost suffocating. She had gotten used to the quiet, but today, it felt different unnatural.

Her heart raced, a slight unease spreading through her veins. The air felt thicker, colder, almost as if the house itself was holding its breath. The familiar smell of stale alcohol hung in the air, lingering more sharply than usual, but it wasn't just the smell that unsettled her. It was the feeling an undercurrent of tension that she couldn't place. Her father wasn't in his usual spot, and there was something off about the way the house felt, like a storm about to break.

Katie paused in the hallway, her eyes scanning the empty rooms. It wasn't like him to be so quiet...

"Dad?" Her voice rang out, but it only bounced back to her, unanswered. The stillness felt heavy, like the air had thickened with each passing second. Her pulse quickened, her skin prickling, her mind racing as she tried to push the feeling away. But it lingered, growing, making her chest tighten with each step she took deeper into the house.

She dragged herself into the kitchen, where the smell of stale alcohol lingered. Her father sat slouched at the counter, the faint glow of a half-empty glass in his hand. His eyes were bloodshot, barely focused. He hadn't even noticed her yet.

"Katie..." he slurred, a small smirk tugging at his lips, but it didn't reach his bleary eyes. "Late... late... you're late."

"I... I told you I'd be here at four." Her voice cracked, betraying the exhaustion she felt.

Her father let out a hollow laugh, one that didn't touch his eyes. He didn't stand, didn't make any move to help her, didn't ask how her day had been. Katie swallowed back the lump in her throat, but it wouldn't go away. She felt invisible, like he didn't even see her anymore.

Suddenly, he stood, swaying dangerously on his feet, gripping her shoulder with a force that was both unexpected and tight.

"Come on..." His voice was thick, dragging. "Got somethin' for ya. Gotta show ya somethin'..."

Katie recoiled slightly, though it wasn't unusual. He often had strange experiments or projects to show her, though she didn't care anymore. But tonight, there was something different in his voice a slur that was heavier than usual, a fog that clouded his movements.

He tugged her toward the basement, stumbling as he led her to the small, dimly lit lab tucked in the corner. The whir of machinery hummed softly in the background, an eerie sound that made Katie's stomach churn. She didn't ask anymore about what he'd been working on, but tonight, the unease crawling up her spine couldn't be ignored.

"Sit," he barked, his grip on her wrist tightening like a vice, pushing her into the chair in front of a large machine she didn't recognize. The metallic surface gleamed faintly under the dim light, reflecting her terrified face back at her.

"Dad, what's this?" Her voice wavered, panic starting to creep in.

He didn't answer. Instead, he shuffled around, fiddling with dials and buttons, the machine humming to life. The air grew colder, the bitter scent of something metallic filling the room. Katie's heart raced. Something wasn't right. She could feel it.

She tried to stand, but her father's grip held her in place, unyielding.

"Stop! What're you-" Her voice hitched, panic rising in her throat. Before she could finish, the machine emitted a sharp, piercing frequency that sliced through the air, the walls closing in on her.

"Dad!" she gasped, her voice breaking. "What's happening?"

But her father didn't hear her. Or maybe he didn't care. His glazed eyes were fixed on the machine's readouts, his focus completely absorbed in his work, oblivious to her frantic cries. His hands moved over the controls, each one turning her world upside down.

Then the pain hit.

It began as a sharp, sudden pain in her chest a bolt of fire shooting through her ribcage. But it didn't stop there. The agony swelled, expanding like a wave crashing over her, and with it came the suffocating pressure of the air, pressing in from all sides. The world seemed to close in around her, crushing her in a vice-like grip. It felt as though her ribs were splintering, every bone in her body cracking under the weight of the invisible force pressing against her chest.

Her lungs felt as if they were being crushed beneath the weight of the air, like she was drowning in the thick, burning atmosphere. The pain twisted, turning inward, as though her heart was being ripped out, torn from her chest, piece by piece. The sensation of her body betraying her was overwhelming every nerve was set on fire, each pulse of pain reverberating through her skin and bones.

Her vision blurred, the world warping around her. She reached out, her hands trembling as she tried to grip anything, anything to stop the relentless agony. But the air itself seemed to turn liquid, forcing its way into her lungs with brutal pressure, suffocating her from the inside out.

Her body spasmed, each breath a struggle, each movement only intensifying the sensation of her body being torn apart. Her chest heaved, but no air came, her lungs burning with the effort. The machine's frequency pulsed, louder, more invasive, and her head felt like it was being torn open, every sound amplifying into a deafening roar in her ears.

Katie's vision flickered, darkened, her mind spiraling out of control as the world tilted and spun. She tried to scream, but no sound came from her lips. Only a ragged, breathless rasp as her body writhed uncontrollably, the spasms becoming more violent, each wave of pain compounding until it felt like an endless, drowning tide.

The room spun, the edges of her vision turning black, and for a moment, she wondered if she had slipped into unconsciousness, if she could even survive this. Was she dying? Was this what it felt like to be torn apart, atom by atom, to be lost to the unrelenting machine her father had set in motion?

Everything around her blurred into a haze, the world warping and twisting into a deep, endless tunnel, pulling her further away from reality.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #marvel mcu #mcu #fanfic #fanfiction #read #x reader #long reads

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