#i wish i could go back in time and tell her how much better things get and how she won’t be lonely forever

[amxritt]

Stay

Rafe Cameron x f!reader

Summary: inspired by Stay by Gracie Abrams

Word Count: 4.4K

Warnings: angst (lots of it), brief mentions of addiction, uhh more probably idk

“You told me something when I left but I don’t remember. Maybe ‘cause all I could do then was stare at the floor”

The fight had been brewing for weeks. Rafe had been spiraling—late nights, glazed eyes, erratic moods. Y/n felt the weight of it all pressing down on her. She had known something was wrong, had seen the signs, but she had hoped he’d stop before things got this bad.

Now, they stood in his bedroom, the air thick with tension. Rafe paced back and forth like a caged animal, his voice rising with frustration. He shouted about how she didn’t understand, how this wasn’t her problem to fix. Y/n flinched at the sharpness in his tone, staying rooted to the edge of his bed, her gaze fixed firmly on the carpet beneath her feet.

She hated when he yelled. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried to shield herself from the storm brewing inside him.

“You don’t get it, Y/n,” Rafe spat, his voice breaking. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. This is my life.”

“And I care about it!” she shot back, finally looking up. Her voice wavered, but her resolve didn’t. “I care about you, Rafe. But I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself.”

He froze mid-step, his back to her. For a moment, she thought he might actually listen. But then he shook his head, muttering something under his breath she couldn’t quite catch.

Y/n exhaled shakily, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted to scream at him, shake him until he understood how much this was breaking her. But all she could do was sit there, staring at the floor as the words she wanted to say died in her throat.

“I held myself ‘cause you wouldn’t, all wrapped in my sweatshirt Wonder if you even noticed that that one was yours”

The room was chilly despite the summer heat outside. The Camerons always kept the AC cranked up, and the breeze from the window only made it worse. Y/n pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them. She was wearing a hoodie—one of Rafe’s, though she doubted he’d noticed.

He had given it to her back when they were sophomores, one night after a bonfire when she’d forgotten to bring a jacket. She’d meant to return it, but somehow it had become hers. Rafe never seemed to mind; he used to say it looked better on her anyway.

Now, as she sat there clutching the fabric like a lifeline, she wondered if he even remembered that it was his. Probably not. Not with how high he was right now. His eyes were glassy, his movements erratic. He didn’t seem to notice much of anything anymore.

“And maybe I should’ve, but I never told you, ‘I’m sorry.’ Know that I tried, but my words always got in the way.”

That night was the breaking point. Y/n had stood in his doorway, tears streaming down her face as she told him she couldn’t do this anymore.

“I can’t watch you hurt yourself, Rafe,” she had said, her voice cracking. “I love you too much to stand by and do nothing. But I can’t save you. You have to want to save yourself.”

He didn’t say anything. He just stood there, his jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists at his sides. She waited for him to stop her, to say something—anything—that would make her stay. But he didn’t.

As she turned to leave, he muttered something under his breath. She couldn’t hear it over the pounding in her ears.

Now, months later, she replayed that night over and over in her head. She wished she had stayed longer, had said something different. She wished she had told him she was sorry—for leaving, for not being enough to make him stop. But the words never came out right, no matter how many times she rehearsed them in her head.

“Could you hold me without any talking? We could try to go back where we started ”

Y/n’s day had been hell. Her parents had been on her case all morning, snapping at her for things that weren’t even her fault. By the time they told her to “go stay at a friend’s house” for the night, she felt like she was about to break.

Typically, when stuff like this happened, she just went to Rafe’s, but she hadn’t talked to him since that night a few months ago.

She ended up at the beach—their beach. It was a quiet, secluded spot they had discovered years ago. It had always been their escape, their sanctuary. Now it was just another place that reminded her of him.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, she pulled out her phone and stared at his name in her contacts. She shouldn’t call him. She knew that. But the weight of the day was too much to carry alone.

She had called him a few times since that night, and each time he picked up right away and stayed on the line, even though she would never actually talk to him. She just needed to hear his breathing. She needed to know he hadn’t overdosed, that he was okay.

Her fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before she pressed call.

He picked up on the first ring.

“Y/n?” His voice was rough, but there was a softness to it that made her chest ache.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, struggling to find the words. Finally, she whispered, “Can I come over?”

“I don’t even have to stay”

Rafe didn’t say anything when she showed up at his door, just stepped aside to let her in.

They didn’t talk as she changed into one of his t-shirts and climbed into bed beside him. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over hers, before she turned to him and whispered, “Can you just hold me?”

He nodded, pulling her close. She felt the tension in his body slowly melt away as they lay there in the dark, their breathing syncing.

“Don’t worry, I won’t stay,” Y/n whispered, breaking the silence.

“It’s okay if you do,” Rafe whispered, but Y/n cut him off, “I won’t.”

For a little while, it felt like nothing had changed. Like they were still the kids who spent their summers on the beach, dreaming about a future that didn’t seem so far away.

But morning always came too soon.

When Rafe woke up, she was gone. Her side of the bed was cold, her clothes neatly folded at the foot of his bed.

“I don’t remember the last time I heard from your sister, Didn’t expect to, but I sorta thought that I would.”

Y/n had always been close to Wheezie, even when she and Rafe were arguing. They spent countless days together shopping, watching movies, having spa nights, and talking about everything and nothing. She was like the little sister Y/n always wanted.

Rafe would sometimes barge in, rolling his eyes at whatever ridiculous movie they were watching, but Y/n would catch the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Those nights felt safe. Whole.

After Y/n left, she half-expected Wheezie to text her, to ask if she was okay or if they could still hang out like they used to. But weeks turned into months, and the silence stretched out between them.

Y/n thought about reaching out herself, but every time she opened her phone, the weight of what had happened with Rafe stopped her. What would she even say? That she missed her? That she wasn’t sure if she could face Rafe’s family without falling apart?

Sometimes, she’d scroll through old photos of them together, her heart aching for the easy sister-like bond they had. Wheezie’s smile stared back at her from the screen—bright, carefree, and untouched by the storm that had torn everything apart.

“Wish I could tell you by now that i felt more indifferent”

Y/n sat with her knees to her chest on the beach, their beach—the one where they had spent countless evenings watching the sun melt into the ocean. The waves stretched out before her, their rhythmic crash and retreat, a cruel reminder of the ebb and flow of her relationship with Rafe.

She always knew walking away would be hard, but she thought she’d feel more indifferent by now, that the ache in her chest would dull over time. Instead, every day felt like a battle against memories that refused to stay buried.

She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, trying to ground herself. But the moment she did, images of Rafe flooded her mind: his lopsided grin when he teased her, the way his hand lingered on hers, the quiet moments when his walls came down, and he let her see the man he could be.

“Why can’t I let you go?” she whispered, her voice trembling. The wind carried her words out to the sea, where they dissolved like everything else she’d tried to hold onto.

A seagull called overhead, snapping her back to the present. She ran her fingers through the sand, letting the grains slip through them. She wanted to feel indifferent. She needed to feel indifferent. But how do you stop caring about someone who was your whole world? She would give anything to have him back, but not until he quit the drugs.

“Catch myself thinking about you more than I should”

Y/n stood in line at the coffee shop, waiting for her order, when a man with Rafe’s build walked through the door. Her breath caught, her heart skipping a beat before logic kicked in. It wasn’t him.

But for those few seconds, her mind betrayed her, painting a picture of what it would be like if it were him. Would he smile at her? Would his eyes light up the way they used to when they saw her? Or would he look past her, as if the memories they shared were as distant to him as they were vivid to her?

Even in moments like this, she caught herself thinking about him. She wondered what he was doing now, if he was happy, if he ever thought about her too. It had been months since they’d spoken, and yet he was still there, lingering in the corners of her mind.

“And maybe I should’ve but I never told you I miss you I almost said it but don’t know if you feel the same.”

The fluorescent lights of the grocery store buzzed as Y/n walked down the produce aisle, her list in hand. She was focused on selecting the ripest lemons, reaching on her tiptoes to get them off the top shelf, when a familiar hand reached past hers and plucked one off the shelf.

She looked up, and her heart stopped. It was Rafe.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. His presence was like a punch to the gut—familiar and painful all at once. He looked healthier, steadier, but his eyes still held that same quiet sadness she knew too well.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Y/n swallowed hard, her mind racing. She wanted to say something, to bridge the gap between them. I miss you, she thought. The words sat on the tip of her tongue, heavy and unspoken.

Instead, she managed a weak smile. “Hey.”

They stood there, awkward and unsure. She wanted to ask how he’d been, if he was happy, if he ever thought about her. But the fear of what his answers might be kept her silent.

As he walked away, her heart ached with all the things she wished she had said. He was respecting the boundaries she had set, and she was grateful for that, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what she could’ve said. Maybe I should’ve told him. Maybe it would’ve changed something. Or maybe it wouldn’t have mattered at all.

“Could you hold me without any talking? We could try to go back where we started I don't even have to stay”

Y/n sat cross-legged on her bed, absently scrolling through her phone when it buzzed. Rafe’s name lit up the screen.

She wasn’t expecting it, but her thumb hovered for only a moment before she answered. “Rafe?” she said softly.

The line was silent except for the sound of his uneven breathing. Her heart sank. “Rafe, are you okay?” she asked, her voice tight with worry.

Finally, he spoke, his voice strained and shaky. “I…I need your help.”

Y/n sat up straight, her pulse quickening. “Where are you?”

A pause followed before he replied, “I’m at Topper’s.” His words were slurred, and she could tell he’d been drinking. “Listen, Y/n/n, you… you don’t have to do this.”

“Rafe, it’s fine. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

She didn’t hesitate. Throwing on her shoes and grabbing her keys, she was out the door.

When she arrived, Rafe sat slouched on the front porch, his head in his hands. As she pulled up, he stood slowly and made his way to the car. Sliding into the passenger seat, he looked at her with tired, bloodshot eyes.

“Thank you… for coming,” he muttered.

“Of course,” Y/n said softly. “You called.”

Her voice was calm, steady—exactly what he needed. Rafe didn’t respond, but the corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile.

The drive back to Tannyhill was silent. When they arrived, Rafe hesitated before opening the car door.

“Can you… come in?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n nodded. “Yeah, I can.”

Inside, as he opened his bedroom door, she noticed his hands—bruised, scratched, and swollen knuckles.

“Rafe!” she gasped, reaching for his hand. Her heart raced as they touched. She hadn’t felt his touch in so long. “What happened?”

He pulled his hand back, avoiding her gaze. “It’s nothing. Just… got into a little disagreement,” he mumbled, dropping his keys on the dresser.

“Rafe…” she began, her tone firm, but she stopped when she saw the exhaustion in his eyes. “Here, let me clean it up.”

In the bathroom, she sat him down on the closed toilet seat and retrieved the first aid kit. Quietly, she began tending to his cuts.

He didn’t flinch when she dabbed rubbing alcohol on the wounds, but she noticed the way his jaw tightened. Neither of them spoke as she worked, her touch gentle and precise.

When she finished, she stood and said, “Go get in bed. I’ll clean this up and be right there.”

By the time she returned to his room, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slouched. He glanced at her as she walked in, shifting to make space for her beside him.

Y/n slid into bed, and they lay there in the dark, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound. Rafe wrapped his arms around her, holding her like she was his anchor to the world. She held him just as tightly, resting her head against his chest.

No words were spoken. None were needed.

“If I woke up with you in the morning I’d forget all the ways that we’re broken I don’t care if you’ve changed, I don’t even have to stay”

Morning light filtered through the blinds, painting golden streaks across the room. Y/n woke slowly, her senses adjusting to the warmth of Rafe’s arms wrapped around her. For a moment, she forgot the heartbreak, the arguments, and the nights spent crying herself to sleep.

She stayed still, savoring the rare peace. His breathing was steady, his chest rising and falling against her back. It felt like old times, like they were still those carefree kids.

Quietly, she slipped out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. She brewed coffee, cooked eggs, and relished the grounding normalcy of it all.

When she returned with a tray of food and Advil, Rafe was awake, propped up on one elbow, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“I thought you’d left,” he said, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

She set the tray down and sat beside him. “I just wanted to make sure you had food and Advil,” she said softly.

“Thank you.” He reached out and took her hand, his touch hesitant. “Look, Y/n, I-I know you said you wouldn’t…” His voice faltered, as if the words were too heavy. “Until I… Until I stopped. But do you ever think we could—”

“Don’t,” she cut him off gently, her voice steady. It hurt to see him like this, a shadow of the confident man she remembered. “Rafe… I meant what I said. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be here for you. Even if you haven’t gotten better yet… I’ll still be here when you need me.”

Her voice trailed off, and he nodded, understanding despite the hurt. For now, they had this moment—fleeting, imperfect, but theirs.

She didn’t stay much longer, not wanting to overstep. As she walked to the door, Rafe stopped her. “Will you ever stop leaving?”

Turning to face him, she gave a sad, genuine smile. “I’ll stop leaving when you get better, Rafe. I promise.”

With that, she walked out of the Cameron house. Leaving him was never easy, but she knew it was the only way for him to heal.

Authors note: Long story for my first post, I hope you like it! I take requests but I'm not sure how to set that up yet so messages, comments, or whatever works if you want to send one in. I am tempted to make a part 2 to this, so if anyone is interested lmk!

[igotanidea]

(7) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader

part 1/ part 2 / part 3 / part 4/ part 5 / part 6

A/N: ladies and gentlemen I give you : THE FINALE! happy early b-day @pookieisme4life 🎁🎁 (I was about to wait till 24th but it turned out impossible I am so excited to post it!!!)

***

„Who the hell are you?”

Honestly, he could care less about the ID of the mystery person, nor he hoped for the actual answer, but the initial shock did just that.

They were driving towards some unknown destination that was allegedly the location of the place Y/N was taken to.

“Nice try, Nightwing. Keep dreaming” the person, who was already deemed as a woman, laughed, swirling abruptly yet skillfully.

“Seriously you can’t just expect me to address you in a hey, you way.”

“Valid point. For the sake of it, let’s settle on calling me Shadow.”

“Fine. Whatever. Now why are you helping me?”

“I did some bad things In my life. Maybe this is my way of making up for them.”

“Huh. Seeking redemption?”

“Pretty nice trope, isn’t it?” she laughed. It was actually pretty nice to be able to use humor even in dire situations. “I was always a sucker for the character who wants to do better in their life.”

“Yeah. At least you chose a better way to do so than my brother.”

“You mean Red Hood?”

“For someone I don’t know shit about, you seem awfully knowledgeable about my family ties.”

“Intel is everything, Nightwing. And yes, I know what your other brother, Red Robin, might say.”

“Who the hell are you?!” At this point Dick was really getting curious.

“A friend.” She responded, looking right at him, her eyes shining from behind the mask.

***

“Let me go!!”

“Easy princess. Behave or this might actually get worse for you.”

“LET ME GO!!” she struggled against the binding on her wrist and the sack put on her head.

“What did I tell you, you bitch!?” She was abruptly pulled out of the car and thrown onto the ground. “Do you have a death wish?!”

“Fuck you!”

“If I were you, I’d cooperate, you little slut. Otherwise we might have to scar that pretty face of yours more than it’s necessary.”

With a sharp movement the sack was torn off her head and she had to squint her eyes from the light that hit her eyes with excessive force, reinforced by the fact she had just spent god knows how much time in a dark car with eyes covered.

“Shit…” there was no possibility to hold back the hiss and a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Yes. Yes sunshine, you’re in deep shit.” The kidnapper kneeled to her level and caressed her cheek in a condescending gesture, obviously misreading her tears as a sign of fear and submission. “So pretty…”

“Piss off!” she acted instinctively, ending up with a slap on the cheek and stinging sensation that only added to her anger.

“Didn’t I tell you to behave?”

“I had a stinking sack on my head, maybe there was something wrong with my hearing at the time and – “ her head spun to the side as another slap, this time far harder landed on her cheek.

“Well you definitely heard me now. And if you didn’t I won’t hesitate to remind you again. Now get up, we’re taking you to the boss.”

Great.

She was in a freaking video game, when two brainless thugs captured her for a reason that was still a mystery to her and was now taking her to the den of a final boss on the level.

***

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

Should she even be surprised that said den had a design of a video game? Dark, cold, adjourned with different kinds of weapons scattered here and there, huge desk in the middle and three monitors that took up the entire wall?

Almost grotesque.

But hey, who was she to judge the taste of Gotham’s criminals, right?

She probably should have been terrified, praying to every higher power to be saved by Batman, Red Hood, Robin or – damn – even Poison Ivy in the worst case, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to that particular emotion. It was like her brain refused to anchor in reality and everything turned into a freaking dream she was sure to wake up from any second now.

Though maybe getting back to reality in which Dick was still with Sienna and she was brokenhearted wasn’t really a good alternative.

Right. Dick.

Did he even notice her gone? Or was he too busy patching things up with his girlfriend, already forgetting about Y/N? The girl he claimed to love?

A kick in the back of the knees that send her to the floor (again) made her realize that while getting lost in her thoughts she missed the obviously very important and very detailed speech of the villain who was describing his wicked plan to take over the world and –

“Ouch!”

“Stupid bitch.”

“It hurts!” she tried to squirm away from the kicking but it was immensely hard with her hands still bound.

“Hold the fire, boys. Easy. The lady is our guest after all and this is not how we treat guests, is it?” The goons chuckled darkly, because clearly guests were deserving of a far more cruel and brutal treatment. “Now, now, don’t be scared little one. We won’t hurt you. Much. At least not until you give us what we want.”

The owner of a deep, husky voice, who clearly was the host of the party finally decided to step forward and show his face.

Well.

Not exactly showing his face.

***

 “Could you at least tell me who we’re dealing with here?!” Dick muttered, keeping his voice low as he and Shadow pulled at the abandoned building on the outskirts of Gotham. “Do you even know?”

“Why? Does it matter?” Shadow joked “Would you use a different contingency plan for Riddler and another one for Two Face?”

“Could you please stop joking about it? This is my girlfriend we’re talking about!”

The emotions started to come to the surface, and Nightwing started becoming uncharacteristically scatter-brained.

“Idiot. Keep it down!” Shadow hissed, pulling him behind the corridor crease, miraculously avoiding the watchful gaze of the guardian. “Here’s what I get for putting myself at risk. Nightwing announcing his presence to the entire compound filled with criminals. Get yourself together. Or is it too hard for you?!”

Dick grimaced. He hated himself at the moment. For both losing his cool, especially in front of someone who could hold it against him and for missing on precious time since every second counted.

“Y/N. Think about Y/N.” he muttered to himself “She needs your help. Now more than ever.”

He took a few deep breaths, calming down the storm inside him to the point where he was actually in control and capable of turning the fear and concern into anger.

If anyone touched his Y/N….

“You back?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m back.” He opened his eyes, completely focused, eyes sharp, instincts on high alert. “Tell me who’s the fucker who dared to take her.”

“Black Mask.”

“Fucker.” The word left Dick’s lips without the involvement of his brain. That was how much he loved her. The golden boy, teasing, joking and playful nightwing turned into a machine, swearing and ready to freaking kill, almost Red Hood like.

“So? Ready to kick some asses?”

“After you.” The predatory smirk blooming on his face was a sign of incoming violence and spilling blood.

***

Her screams mixed with the ones coming from the corridor in a beautiful, gory cacophony of sounds. An ode painted with blood and pain. Maybe that was why for a longer moment no one in the room actually paid attention nor was willing to try and differentiate the sources of notes in the song.

 Or maybe it was the fact that the goons’ cries were extremely high-pitched, almost reaching the same key as the yelling of a woman trapped in the torture machine, losing strength with every passing second.

“Oh no, no, no, no.” Black Mask laughed cruelly “you don’t get to pass out on me yet. Info first.” The iron grip on her wrist tightened even more, as if that was even possible, cutting into skin and muscle, amplifying the blood loss.

For the last whatever-time-passed she was kept on the edge of consciousness as if Black Mask was hoping that choking, hurting and injecting with some substance would cause her to lose inhibitions and finally blurt out the information he was so dead set on getting.

Who is Nightwing.

Who is Batman.

Any piece of information would turn out to be useful, but since the beginning of the questioning it became painfully clear that that stupid girl was either too weak or too strong to answer.

Too weak because it seemed that even the slightest amount of pain made her repeatedly pass out and too strong because on those intermittent periods where she actually was conscious and aware of the surroundings enough to talk was the one making her extremely stubborn and uncooperative.

And Black Mask was losing his patience.

Here he was, gracing that little scum with his presence instead of submitting her to the treatment of his lower men, with less than gracious methods and she had the audacity to be bratty.

A vicious circle in which he was using the moments to get information only to be refused, beating her again and ending up with a thoughtless body, achieving nothing, over and over again.  

He should have just stuck to using his rat, skillfully planted in Gotham.  

“Fuck!” he yelled seeing as once again she went limp on the chair only because he pulled her nail. “Stupid bitch!”

“Mmmmm…” Y/N muttered and for a moment the room was completely quiet save from her little whimpering.

And then –

“OUCH!”

“FUCK!”

“RETREAT!”

“The hell?” Black Mask walked to the door and looked through the peephole. “Fuck!” Seeing his guards and men being thrown in different directions, sounds of yelling and snapping bones alongside with blood streaming on the floor was not the best view before 7 p.m. and definitely not the best without his favorite drink. Under any other circumstances he would be giving zero fucks about the violence outside the safe door, but now – he had a plan to complete and no one, fucking no one would prevent him from succeeding.

The loud sound of a door’s guard crashing with the metal surface and pictorially sliding down with crushed skull caused Sionis to quickly recalibrate his plan.

Seemed like Red Hood was in the house. And not that Sionis was scared, but-

“Hold them back!” he yelled, grabbing the limp body of Y/N and rushing towards the safety exit, to the roof where his private jet was landed just in case of emergencies.

And this was clearly an emergency.

***

The door broke about 30 seconds after Black Mask rushed to the passage.

“You carry explosives with you everywhere?” Dick muttered, equally impressed and shocked.

“What? It comes in handy and -”

“AAAAH!” Both goons rushed at the two vigilantes before Shadow could finish a sentence, but their brave loud cries quickly turned to quiet, broken sobbing as they were laid down.

“Be a sweetheart and tell me where he went?” Nightwing leaned over the goon with an almost soft smile.

“mhm…” inert waving towards the passage was enough of an answer.

“Good boy. Thanks.”

***

“NO!!” she yelled as Black Mask was dragging her through the roof. Sudden realization of all the things that could go wrong making her much more valiant and strong. As long as she was still in Gotham and not exported to another city or – god forbid – country – could result in being deemed as another missing-without-trail- person.

That is – if someone was even looking for her in the first place.

Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes at the thought that she could be so easily forgotten.

And the terror she was holding back for so long, since the moment of being dragged into that black SUV, finally found a way out…

“NIGHTWING!!!”

***

“Y/N!!”

A dead man would hear that cry and even a dead man would rise from the dead at the sheer desperation beaming from the voice.

“Y/N!!! I’m coming!”

***

“You’re becoming a trouble!” Black Mask hissed, slapping her repeatedly, drawing another stream of blood this time from the broken lip.

“I – “

“I’m so done with you. Should have just killed you the second you turned out to be of zero significance to the cause. Now come here you little bitch-“

“No!!”

She blindly started to run away, only to trip (obviously) and ending up back in Sionis’ grip.

“NO!!”

He was too strong and she was too scared and stiff to fight anymore. Digging heels into the ground did no harm and was definitely no hindrance in being pulled towards the ledge of the 10-stories building.

“NO!!!!”

“Y/N!!”

Both the girl and Sionis froze for a moment as another male voice cut into the screaming match.

But it was too late.

***

“Go!” Shadow was probably the only one who didn’t lose cold blood.  “GO!”

***

She was falling.

And it was beautiful.

Knowing that she would finally be free of all the pain, of all the heartbreak, of the guilt coming with betraying another girl by sleeping with someone else’s boyfriend. Liberated from being stuck in the memories of the past when she was actually happy, before everything went to shit.

“I love you Dick…” she whispered, finally crashing to the ground.

***

“Who the hell are you?!”

“Oh, come on, not this again!” Shadow hissed, extremely dissatisfied with the fact that everyone she encountered was far more interested in getting to know her personality, rather than fearing her killer skills.

For Black Mask it took a record time of ten minutes before calling defeat and ending up bound and being taken by the GCPD.

***

“Y/N.”

She opened one eye and much to her surprise found out that she was not a celestial body looking at her bloodied pulp of a body on the pavement.

“I love you too…” the warm embrace around her was welcomed but in time started to become a little suffocating and her battered body refused to be squeezed.

“Dickie…”

“Shh… shh, I got you.” He whispered again, caressing her hair, kissing her forehead, doing everything to assure both her and himself that it was all over and that he got her, that she was safe and he would never let it happen again. Never.

“H-How? W-what happened-? I – I thought-“

“You thought so little of me, didn’t you?”

“Idiot.”

“Hey!”

“Fucking prick! I swear if it wasn’t for this – “ she swung her injured arm in the air “I’d slap the hell out of you!”

“I saved you!”

“I almost died and you’re making jokes!”

Oh. Right. Maybe, just maybe given the circumstances it was slightly inappropriate.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. You better.” She pouted, but he knew better, wiping the unshed tears. “It’s over.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“What happened?”

“I’m an acrobat, remember? I jumped. And damn, I wish someone had that on video because it was really one of my best – Ouch! Ouch! Ok, ok! Stop it! Point taken!”

***

“How are we doing here?”

Once Sionis was seated in the back of a police car, hands were shaken and words of gratitude exchanged Shadow walked towards Dick and Y/n.

“I think she’ll live.” Dick teased with a smirk, predictably moving a safe distance away from his -- .

Right.

Maybe there was no happy ending after all with that messed up relationship thing hanging over their heads like a freaking axe.

“Can’t say the same about Nightwing though” Y/N pushed the thought away, settling on sending him a death stare for making fun of her again.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“I think you made up for whatever crime you were trying to redeem, Shadow. Thank you. I owe you. You saved my –“

“Girlfriend?” Shadow prompted, looking between Y/N and Dick, making them both blush in a bit of embarrassment.

“It’s complicated-“ they both said at the same time.

“Oh, trust me, it’s not complicated at all!” Shadow laughed

“What do you mean? You don’t know-“

“I know more than you think. Haven’t I proved that already?” Shadow turned around, making sure no one was watching and slowly took of her mask.

***

Fast forward. One week later.

Y/N was walking out of the hospital. It seemed like her arm was healing nicely and there were no complications, though her doctor was very stern while telling her she was supposed to rest and not get herself involved in any form of physical activity.

If he only knew that she was in a relationship with Gotham’s and Bludhaven vigilante.

“Y/N!”

Speaking of which, said vigilante was now honking at her from his Porsche.

“Showoff!”

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping!

She laughed and jumped inside the vehicle.

“You’re supposed to hold the doors open for me!”

“Mh. Missed you too, sunshine.” He leaned over the gearbox kissing her with a cheeky grin. “How’s the hand?”

“She’ll live.”

“Quoting me already, princess? Careful, I might think you consider me a superstar or something.”

“Idiot!”

“Ouch! You’re hurting me. But I’m willing to forgive you, giving the circumstances of late.”

He started the engine and took the way to the city.

“Yeah. Crazy, right?” her head fell onto the car’s headrest and she sighed heavily. “I mean – who would have thought…”

***

Flashback

“S-Sienna!?”

“Hey you two.”

“h-hey? What do you mean “hey”?! What is this?! Some sick joke?!”

In her stupor Y/N missed the fact that Dick was as shocked (if not more) as her. Hence it couldn’t have been any conspiracy against Y/N’s mental health.

“Whoa! Whoa! Relax!” Shadow Sienna raised her hands in surrender “Dick-“

“The hell?! How do you know? Damn it-!” he forgot about all the rules of safety and tore off his mask. Getting to the bottom of this shit was far more important.

“- I meant what I said. Really! About that redemption arc! Just – just listen to me!”

“Five minutes.”

“It was all a scheme-“

“Well let me tell you, your explanation is starting off the wrong foot” Dick groaned, pulling Y/N to his side to strengthen her mentally.

“I am Black Mask’s niece in the second line!” Sienna explained dramatically “wait-! Wait-! I have no loyalty to him! Not anymore!”

“One minute left.” Dick hissed

“It was all a plan. He had some vague idea about the ties between the one Dick Grayson and Batman and Y/N and wanted to use all of you against each other.”

“Thirty seconds.”

“Yes, fine! I was his spy for a moment, but then you two-. God! You love each other! And I just couldn’t- I couldn’t-“

Y/N wriggled out of Dick’s embrace and walked to Sienna, grabbing both her hands in her healthy one.

“Thank you.”

End of flashback

***

 “I really hope you took your golden visa with you, cause I am about to go crazy with this shopping spree.”

“Hey. No limits on Bruce’s cards. He won’t even notice the loss of a couple thousands and I got my girl back, so-“

“I think we should send-“

“I already took care of that.”

After all the trouble and drama they got their happy ending.

***

In another part of town a certain girl found a fruit and sweet basket on her doorstep. With a little, but meaningful card.

It seemed like she found her happy ending too.

One in which she was no longer used by anyone and treated as a villain.

With the view for a future of freedom.

@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona

@gracescor3 @jaysgirlx @fuzzym4m4 @peachmartini @xenop0p @madness1999sworld

@leovergurl

[berritart]

thinking abt phone sex with abbyyyy #plz

abby could hear your hitched breathing through the phone, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

you were a mess, and she wish she could see how you were right now. the bottom hem of your nightgown held high up by your teeth, your fingers tracing over your clit through your panties. it was definitely a sight.

"need you abby..." you whined through the phone, wanting nothing more than to have your girlfriend between your legs. it was definitely ovulation time for you. you're usually horny but you would always handle it yourself. you never got to the point where you would have to call your girlfriend to get off, especially this early in the morning. it was only 10 am.

"what do you need me to do baby?" she asked, closing her journal. she got up from her desk and got in bed. she wanted all her attention on you, deciding to cut her study session short.

"just talk to me." you slip your hand under your panties, your cold fingers causing you to whimper in your phone. your noises were fucking with abby already. she wishes she was tongue deep in your cunt right now, making her girl feel good. unfortunately the snow gotten worse overnight and the roads unsafe to drive on. the weather was keeping a barrier between you two.

"what's going on in that pretty little head of yours right now?" abby whispers, unbuttoning her jeans. she began playing with the waistband of her boxers, craving a response from you. she waited, only hearing whines full of need. "c'mon baby tell me."

"t-thinking about your fingers..." you draw circles against your clit, jolting from the contact. "how thick they a-are..." you could literally hear abby grinning on the other side of the phone, enjoying every second of your phone call.

abby felt the warmth in the pit of her stomach get worse. she was so close to becoming the state you're in but it's all about you right now. she could hold off for a bit longer but her sweet thing can't. "and what else angel?" you mewl at the pet name, plus the feeling of your finger slipping inside your pussy. it was too much to handle, your teeth basically chewing off your bottom lip. you needed your girlfriend bad.

you lean the phone against your ear, your hand now groping on your tits through the fabric. "mmm... 'n h-how they reach all the right spots..." you gasp, your pointer and thumb pinching your sensitive nipple. "s'much better than mines."

"you wanna know what i'm thinking?" abby says lowly as she palms herself through her boxers. "'m s-so close baby." you borderline wail, your movements getting sloppier and sloppier. "im thinking about having that pretty pussy rocking back and forth on my tongue." abby's hand picks up the pace, her mouth holding back a whimper. "then when she's ready, when i think she's ready, i'll fuck her nice and slow on my strap. how's that sound sweet girl?"

"s-so so good- fuckfuckfuck i'm cumming." your fingers curl in your sopping cunt before pulling out. your climax washes over you violently, your moans and abby's name being suffocated by your pillow.

"there we go...good girl." abby praises, pulling her hand from her boxers and jeans. you try and catch your breath, hard breathing traveling through to the other line. "miss you so bad abby..."

abby checks the state outside, the sun slowly but surely coming out to melt the thick inches of snow. it was definitely going to take a while for all the snow to melt but for abby? at this rate?

"don't worry baby i'll be there soon."

[idkkprincess]

Somebody That He Used To Know

Analyzing a little more on Post-Amnesia Shadow coming to face with his past.

Honestly, while Dark Beginnings did a great job showing us of the relationship between Shadow and Maria, Generations showed us what Shadow meant to Maria.

Not what Maria meant to Shadow, because this Shadow isn't her Shadow. He's different. Whatever fully happened on the ARK is lost.

And while, Maria cares for him regardless of what he can become. She knows something is wrong. She knows she hasn't seen him in a long time. She knows he's gone through things, she could only imagine.

This Shadow, has recovered from amnesia post-dying post-brainwashing, he only knows of Maria in certain aspects. He's never actually met her. It's kinda similar to his Pre-Genesis Archie counterpart, who never met her but knows of her and knows the pain of losing her. He knows so much about her because of how much her death has impacted his life. He doesn't really know why she cared for him, only that she did.

To Shadow, seeing both Gerald and Maria brings up things that he knows happened it's just that he doesn't recall them happening. He saved Maria, not because she was Maria, but because it was someone in danger.

A lot of what he does in the game with Maria is trying to reason with her. Especially with Maria's wish, because that is literately all he knows about her other than a few things here and there.

There hasn't been any confirmation that all of his memories have returned. Dark Beginnings, shows that he remembers part of things, especially closer to the ARK Incident. Even then, his memories are used more as a taunting devices from Black Doom than anything else most of the time.

I also still think he feels guilty about he death. He remembers most of his strong emotions, such feeling inadequate of failing at being her cure, her sacrifice to save him, or just the fact that he knew he wasn't going to fit in. Which he also still questions at the end of the Dark Beginnings because that is the only thing that is still relevant to his life.

At the end of the day, the ARK incident doesn't matter. He can't go back and fix it. Even Gerald tells him to not tamper the time stream. I think the reason why the "Let Me Save Gerald and Maria" story idea got dropped is because he has little to no idea who these people are or were to him now. At the beginnings he knows he should precent thier deaths, but at the same time he's busy. He learns more about them, more about his purpose and who they were. Because Gerald and Maria don't know him anymore and he doesn't know them that much either.

And that's why he cries again at the end of the game, because for the first time in a long time, his heart and his mind make sense. He finally understands why this hurt him as much as it did back then. He finally realizes why Gerald wanted to destroy the world and he seemed fine with it until he wasn't.

Shadow also seemed to understand why Maria seemed more important than Gerald in his mind. She stood by him and supported him to do better. Maria coddled Shadow. She was the supporting words that would guide him to be who needed to be. Unlike Gerald who kinda just let him do what he wanted. Gerald had the belief that Shadow would do the right thing, he's a scientist who believes in his work. For Maria, this is her first time understanding that people would grow and they would be something you can't control. Shadow is his own person at the end of the day, not something you plan out methodically. It was all experimental.

Shadow has always wanted them back for some odd reason he tends to bury. He just finally understood why and couldn't bear it.

“That which inspires us to our greatest good is also the cause of our greatest evil.” - Viktor, Arcane

[lola-theshowgrl]

I'm not great at these introduction posts, and this one feels extra strange because it's a bit late coming. Still, I've been remiss, and I felt like it was important to have this somewhere, so here we are!

Hullo!

I'm Lola, I live in the UK, and I'm a writer. I love books, films, music, art, food, and flowers, and if I could disappear into the woods to live like a little cottage witch or a hobbit, I would absolutely do that.

I enjoy simple things. I have my own garden for the first time in my life, and I'm slowly learning how to look after that, moving things about, pruning, and growing veggies from seed. The word of Monty Don is law, and I watch Gardener's World quite religiously.

I have a lot of houseplants, which I'm more knowledgeable about, but only because it was the closest I could get to a garden for many years. I was renting for a long time, so I moved practically every other year, and my houseplants have accumulated to become something like an indoor jungle.

I also like to cook - and to eat! I'm a home cook, I was taught largely by my grandma and by watching various cooking shows over the years. I love how food brings people together, how it varies culturally, and I have a talent for tasting a dish and being able to replicate flavours without a recipe, which is neat.

I do a bit of crafting, though not as much as I used to. I make candles, soap, wax melts and such. I also knit and sew, but only very basically, and I'd like to get better at both, but I never seem to make any time for it. I'm not a particularly organised person, except by necessity, and this often shows itself in such areas.

I love nature and being outside. I walk a lot, usually with my dog, Wilfred, and we visit rivers, forests, beaches, and the occasional marsh together at weekends. There's nothing like fresh air and a good walk to clear your head a bit, I think. That said, I don't like being cold much, and wet socks horrify me on a very primal level, and if it was up to me I wouldn't ever leave the house when it's raining.

I love the sun. You will never hear me complain about it being too hot, I guarantee it. I wait for summertime all year long, and it's fairly short here in England, so I spend as much of the season outside as I can, basking like a lizard.

I'm in my late thirties and coming up fast on middle-age, and I noticed my first grey hairs about a year ago - just a few bright, silvery strands at my temples and around my ears. I feel like I've mentally been a fifty year old since I was ten, so ageing doesn't concern me too much. Also I feel like I won some kind of battle by getting to this point? Sometimes I think about the lonely teenager I was, convinced I wouldn't see twenty-five, and wish I could find a way back to her to tell her she's going to be okay.

I'm short and fat, my nose is a little crooked, my eyes are blue, and my hands are oddly small. I dress like an elderly librarian, and I know I'm winning at the female-gaze when other women compliment my tweed skirts and flowery dresses. I have a vast collection of cardigans.

I'm autistic, I'm queer, and I'm partially deaf. I ought to wear a hearing aid, but honestly? I've heard enough.

Yes, I do think I'm funny.

I love art, classic or new, and I seem to have somehow assimilated a working knowledge of Impressionism. I blame my mother for this.

I once went to the Tate for a school trip and sat in front of a painting by Monet for two hours without moving, and got into trouble for not sticking with the group. I'm obsessed with the idea that Degas was Jack The Ripper, and I wish more people knew about Berthe Morisot.

Books. Stories. Fiction. My true love, and the very core of who I am. I read The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien when I was about eleven years old, and fell head over heels with the fantasy genre. Later that same year, I read Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, and little did I know, became heavily invested in slow-burn romance. Then, I read Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, and I knew I wanted to write, just as Jo March did.

I've been scribbling away ever since, trying always to improve, to find my voice and craft interesting stories. I've written a huge amount of fanfiction over the years, and even though much of it has been lost to time and various platforms, I learned a lot from those stories. I did publish two books about a decade ago, under a pen name and with a small press, but I had a pretty bad experience with it, and I stopped writing for a long while afterwards.

It was fanfiction that brought back my love for writing again, and I've been dabbling off and on with some original work for the past three years or so. People are weird about fanfiction, I find, but there's nothing like writing for the simple joy of it, with no expectations, to rekindle your love for the craft. It's only through the encouragement and kindness of the folk who were reading those works that I'm here today, trying again to write and publish my original stories.

Anyway, that's me in a nutshell! I probably waffled on a bit, but thank you for reading anyway!

[weezerlvr228]

flippin boobahs!

[skrunksthatwunk]

found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?

[featherymainffins]

I hate how this is all my fault because I am the stupid fool who broke no contact and now look at me! Look at me having to prepare myself for being hurt for god knows how long!

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 

not that it mattered now. 

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 

“are you alright?” 

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 

“what do you mean?” 

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?” 

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 

“and then?” 

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

[inkskinned]

how odd, to watch the creative writing exercises of angry men in the comments of instagram. you noticed it first in the comments of conventionally attractive women - but then it started appearing everywhere else, too.

a young man talks about what lunch he's packing his wife. there is a little story under it, with 300 likes, fabricated from nothing. "this is pointless. if you treat her like this, she will take the lunch to her office and fuck her boss and divorce him and take all his money."

you scroll. a young woman talks about what lunch she's packing for her husband. it is always uglier when the subject of the video is a woman, you've noticed. "you sit on camera and you smile and you are cheating with the neighbor and then you're going to lie about being sexually assaulted by your husband and -"

you stop reading. it has 567 likes.

where did this even become a thing? people making up stories in their head, disgusting long-winded assumptions about intention and sexual disgrace. the evil twin of fanfiction.

like - it's just a lie. it's a lie that they are telling, baldfaced and assumptive. the undercurrent is of course misogyny, but the trouble is that they're so fucking certain. that's what makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. there is this pervasive, inventive desire for them to be right. that they must be right. all women are cheating, lying, gold-digging bitches. no exceptions.

in the reverse, when women say i'd rather meet a bear in the woods than a strange man - men funnel in from the sides. they defend each other with a vibrance and capacity for empathy you wish applied to like, the other half of the population. a man could be saying i absolutely did kill her and these creatures in the comments would rise up with king shit. she made it happen. they love each other to the point of this sick strange self-gaslighting, a fervent and unhinged cognitive distortion. all men are good, wonderful people. all women are terrible, conniving, seditious, annoying.

and when did it become okay to just, like... say that kind of a thing? at one point, you find yourself typing out a witty and snappy retort. why are you spending so much time fantasizing about other people babe. but as you stare at the screen, some part of you pictures this man in public, saying these things to your face. his soapbox, high and mighty. his mirrored sunglasses and his empty life: tired and lonely.

what a sad and horrible loop he's locked in. he is terrible to women, so women don't talk to him, which he uses as an excuse to act more terribly. he blames this "failure" on women, rather than on his behavior. it cannot be that he is the problem (that the solution is to just put his ego down and accept women as equals) - he begins to invent a sculpture to replace the flesh frame of each person he sees.

it isn't just a woman posing on the beach. it is now a slut with a desperate need for each person to crave her body. it isn't just a woman yelping with surprise during something upsetting. it is a hysterical, unhelpful cretin who will probably make things worse instead of better. it isn't a person.

someone's very sweet wedding vows get moderate attention on instagram. in the comments, a man says good fucking luck you'll waste your life providing while behind your back she's absolutely fucking the best man. this will be so cringe in 2 months when she walks out on you.

you think - is that what you need to be true? is that what you need to happen, for the world to make sense to you?

[gyaruhana]

hiiii!

if it is not too much to ask, could you please do player 120 (cho hyun-ju) sfw and nsfw headcanons for fem reader, plsss??(ofc, only if u are comfortable, no pressure🫶🏻🫶🏻)

Ty, and wish u a good day/night 💞

Cho Hyun-Ju/Player 120 - Headcannons

Synopsis: Hyun-Ju sfw and nsfw headcannons !!

A/N: tried my best to write for this absolute girlboss who highkey carried the series

Warnings: nsfw content, fingering, pussy eating, pretty vanilla actually

SFW:

➠ Honestly best gf one could ask for

➠ She’s so caring and ridiculously patient

➠ Showers you in compliments !! always calling you pretty and complimenting what you wear/how you look

➠ If you’re ever insecure she’s so reassuring and knows just how to make you feel better

➠ Not a lot of PDA other than some basic hand holding but she doesn’t shy away from being open about your relationship

➠ Cute dates like picnics because she’s honestly a romantic..

➠ You could honestly just sit in silence and stare at each other for ages and you do, in fact, stare at each other

➠ She’s always open to trying new things with you like ice skating because quality time with the person who cares about her and accepts her for who she is will always be a must for her

➠ Super protective of you !!

➠ She keeps all the creeps away from you 

➠ She actually doesn’t get jealous.. Just concerned when someone flirts with you because she hates when you’re uncomfortable

➠ Very easily slips in and openly tells whoevers flirting that you’re taken by her

➠ If they don't get the message, she'll just walk away but if they try to get physical she WILL put them in their place

➠ Overall, perfect girlfriend. I will never change my mind !!

NSFW:

➠ Prefers to take care of you so she’s actually quite gentle in bed

➠ You are her number one priority so expect her to literally always bring you to the best releases !!

➠ Honestly enjoys fingering you so she can watch your expressions

➠ Don’t be afraid to get loud. She wants you to say what you’re feeling all the time !!

➠ She, herself, isn’t very loud but she does make some comments praising you for taking her fingers so well.

➠ Gentle kisses all the way ! No matter where she’s leaving them, it’s so gentle. Your lips, your neck, your thighs- every kiss she leaves is so full with love 

➠ When she eats you out, still gentle and not messy. She’s polite with it😭

➠ Rubs soft circles on your clit when you’re close to make your orgasm that much better

➠ I feel like she’d prefer to dom but if you want to be dom, she’d let you

➠ Overall, sex with her is more gentle and loving because she wants you to know how important you are to her

"Just breathe. I'll make you feel good, baby," she says as she thrusts two of her fingers in and out of you. Her fingers reach all the right places and, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, she begins to rub your clit in a soft, circular motion with her thumb. The action forces a moan from your throat as you feel yourself draw closer to a release. She smiles as she looks at you and gently squeezes your thigh with her other hand. "There you go, don't hold back. Just cum on my fingers, yeah?"

[auroracalisto]

with all the power in oz

movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 2.2k words summary: the reader, rather anxious and studious, finds their self head-over-heels with none other than fiyero, supposed boyfriend to galinda upland. to placate this, they somewhat agree to meet him at the ozdust ballroom. a/n: YOU pronouns are used to address the reader, but there is no usage of y/n. just watched the movie today. tried to find a fic, couldn't. here I am writing one instead. reader worries a lot. so me. you're welcome. also, I'm going into this blind. I have unfortunately never seen the actual musical (downsides to living in the middle of nowhere) so I'm only going off based on wikis and the movie. it should be gn as I read through it like... five different times, but please let me know if I missed something!

Breathtaking. That's what he was. But could you truly refer to a man like him as breathtaking?

The very features that graced his face were absolutely mesmerizing, and you felt like a fool watching him at times. How could you not? He seemed so full of life, so full of... well, not a care in the world, really. It was as if he brushed everything off of his shoulders without hesitation.

You could only wished you were the same way.

No cares, no worries. How lovely that would have been.

No, you hold onto the things that happen to you as if you have no other way to live. You hold grudges, you think over things that happened years ago that no one could possibly remember.

For someone who wished to be a sorcerer, you had a hard time simply letting things go. Your emotions often got the better of you, even when you knew better. Even when you wished it could be the opposite. But perhaps that was the way of the world.

Not a man in Oz could tell you otherwise.

Books in hands, you crossed the path to your dormitory, brows cinched together in mild concentration.

You had a project in your history class, and an extensive paper to complete on the study of mathematics—of all the things you could have had, a paper in mathematics. You'd rather perform magic in front of the entire student body, but you couldn't.

As you walked, you heard your name come from behind you. Eyes flicker back, a soft frown on your lips. You see him—Fiyero. The one fool you meant to avoid with all the gumption within you.

You'd melt just being near him.

"Fiyero," you softly greet.

He gave you a charming smile, coming up to walk with you. "Heading back already?" he asked.

"I am."

"Working on the project, hm? We could work on it together if you'd like. I'm sure our minds could do wonders," he said, a playful wink coming from him.

"I'm fine," you simply said.

He blinked slowly, but his smile never wavered. "Come now," he said, your name leaving his lips rather sweetly. "Surely you're not going to spend the rest of your evening alone. Why don't you come to Ozdust tonight?"

You looked back at him, frowning. "Ozdust. Me. I don't think so, Fiyero."

"And why not? I'm sure you'd be as dashing as ever."

You stopped in your steps, eyes searching his for but a moment. "Dashing. Are you in earnest, Fiyero?"

"Yes," he said, smiling.

"And what of Galinda? You'll be with her. Why invite me?"

"She doesn't need to know. It's not her business," he said. "Besides, she will be busy with Elphaba. I'd much rather spend time with you."

"And I think you're just pulling my leg," you said defensively. You crossed your arms over your chest, careful to keep your books close.

"Pulling your leg? I haven't even touched you," he said, a cheeky grin on his lips. "Come now, don't play coy. You should come."

"And if I do?"

"Then I'll be quite happy."

You rolled your eyes and went to walk away.

A hand wrapped around your bicep, and you paused, glancing over your shoulder at him.

His eyes widened a bit and he dropped his hand, albeit hesitantly. Perhaps he didn't think he would actually reach out to you. He cleared his throat.

"I really would like you to be there. You'll have the time of your life."

"The time of my life," you repeated. "I don't think you realize how much I dread parties."

"Have you ever been to one?"

"No."

"Then how do you know you dread them?"

"I just know," you said. "I feel it in my bones. I know going will just get on my nerves."

He scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. "I think you're foolish for that," he said. "Come on. What are you losing? A couple hours to work on a project that you know you could finish in a morning session? You'll be fine. Come to the Ozdust tonight. I'll show you a good time."

You clenched your jaw. "I don't want—"

"—I would like you to be there. That is all. I won't ask again." He gave you another small smile before he looked away. "I'll see you around. Perhaps tonight?"

You stared him down. He would like to see you there? Was he being honest? And what of Galinda? Would he be going behind her back? Wasn't he madly in love with her, or something? Or was it the other way around?

He said your name once more, and you looked up at him, letting out a soft sigh.

"Right. Perhaps tonight," you softly said.

The smile on his lips was rather... hopeful than anything else. There wasn't anything smarmy by it. He seemed as genuine as the glint in his eye—the one he used when he spoke with anyone he trusted. At least, you hoped so.

The night came quickly as you finished up your outfit—one you would hope you didn't look completely foolish in. The color you chose seemed to fit well with almost anything, but you still worried. You always worried about something.

Time was of the essence. You weren't even supposed to leave Shiz University's campus, but here you were, sneaking like some scoundrel.

Well, perhaps you were, listening to the requests of a man who already had a girlfriend—a fantastically beautiful one at that.

But you paid no mind. You did what you could, and soon, you found yourself walking down the steps of the Ozdust Ballroom.

Never had you been in a place like this. It was almost... breathtaking, had it not been for the overpowering smells of perfume and some kind of drink wafting from the bar. Your eyes flitted from patron to patron until you finally spotted him—Fiyero.

He looked just as handsome as ever.

Good Oz, what in the world were you doing? This was foolish.

You took a step back, staring at Fiyero for a moment as he spoke with another man, drink in hand. You needed to leave. This was ridiculous. You were ridiculous! Never in a thousand years would you ever imagine yourself to do such a thing—

"You made it!"

Fiyero's voice rang out above the music.

You look to him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Because of course he saw you as soon as you had decided to leave.

Fiyero smiled and made his way to you, taking your hands in his, drink left with the confused man behind him. Surely he didn't just up and leave in the middle of his conversation.

You part your lips and go to speak, but to your dismay, Fiyero is instant.

"I was afraid you had changed your mind," he said. "You look ravishing, darling."

Your eyes widened. Ravishing? You'd been called many things in your life, but never ravishing.

"Galinda couldn't make it?" you asked.

"Wha—no, she couldn't. But what of it? I didn't ask her to the Ozdust, I asked you. I'm glad to see your face."

Warmth blossomed in your cheeks as you watched him. "Fiyero, please... I shouldn't be here."

"Oh, nonsense," he said, grinning all the while. "Come. Dance with me."

"But I don't—"

"—do not say you don't dance. I can teach you."

"Teach me?"

"It's as easy as breathing," he said.

"For you, maybe, but not for—"

"—humor me," he said, smiling.

You pursed your lips. Of course he had to give you that charming smile and the sweet bat of his eyelashes.

"I do not dance," you repeated.

"I think I will be the judge of that."

He grabbed your hands once more and pulled you out into the ballroom floor, smiling all the while.

"You'll be a natural. I can just see it."

"I feel like if I were a natural, you wouldn't have to teach me," you said, gasping as he pulled you close to his chest. His face was dangerously close to yours, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

"You know," he began, eyes flickering back to your eyes. "We all start somewhere, do we not? You should know that better than anyone."

"What? What does that—"

He interrupted you by spinning you by your arm, back into his embrace. The music was rather ambient, not quite one for dancing so enthusiastically, but Fiyero embraced it. Hand to your hand, face close to your face.

"See? A natural."

"You merely spun me around, Fiyero. Do not be foolish."

"You could have fell flat on your face," he said, a boyish grin evident on his lips.

"Stop looking at me like that," you defiantly said. "You are far too close to me for my liking."

"Oh, feisty, are we?" he asked, moving his body along to the music and forcing you to go along, too. You nearly stepped on his toes several times. "I do not think there is anything wrong with the way I'm looking at you. You're rather breathtaking, if I may."

Breathtaking. The same way you had described him only hours before. He wasn't a mind reader, was he?

No.

Of course not. That was foolish. He was merely a man. Nothing of great importance—no power within him other than the power he held in every single eyelash as they batted down at you, making you melt over and over again.

"What of Galinda?" you repeated.

"What of her?"

"You shouldn't be calling someone who isn't yours breathtaking. It's quite..."

"There is nothing wrong with admiring the beauty in front of me," he said, your name playfully leaving his tongue. "Look at me. Galinda and I are only friends."

You rolled your eyes. "Do not lie to me."

His eyes widened a bit. "Lie? I do not lie. We are friends and nothing more. Though I do believe she thinks differently..."

"She must," you said, huffing softly.

"But that does not make it true. I have eyes for someone else."

"Eyes for someone else?"

He tilted his head once more. He was rather endearing when he did that.

"Who did I ask to their very first party?" he asked, smiling. "It's quite a feat, isn't it? Afraid you wouldn't show, and then you do, questioning me and everything I stand for, hm?"

Warmth found its way to your cheeks once more. You looked away from him. With the crescendo of the music, Fiyero pulled you closer, fingers lacing with yours. His lips hover dangerously close to yours.

"You know, if you would just give it a chance, perhaps you and I could make some magic of our own."

You let out a curt laugh. "You—oh, good Oz, I hope you never use that line on anyone! Has that worked for you before?"

He gave a cheeky smile. "It seems like it's working on you."

"Absolutely not!"

"Not even a little!"

"No!"

His smile only seemed to grow. "Truly?"

You looked away, swallowing thickly. "I mean... no. Not even a little. Not at all."

"You're lying," he said.

"I am not."

"I do think I know what I'm talking about," he said, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to the soft skin of your cheek. "Come now," he said. "Stop with the lies."

You looked up at him, a soft huff escaping you.

"Fine. I lied. It may or may not be working. But it's not just because of what you said."

"Oh? Are you saying you like me for more than my suave words?"

"Suave words? Who in Oz said they were suave?"

He just smiled, his eyes flickering to your lips once more. "Do you think instead of just a dance, I could try something more?"

"Try what?"

"I think you know."

You blinked slowly at him, your fingers gently gripping onto his tunic. Your lips part in mild surprise, but you realize that you shouldn't have been. He'd been eyeing you the entire evening.

"Very well," you softly said.

"Wonderful," he replied, and in a swift motion, he pressed his lips to yours. It was short as he pulled back almost as soon as he had kissed you, but it was enough to keep you wanting more.

"Fiyero, that wasn't—"

"—come with me," he softly said, lacing his fingers with yours once more. "Somewhere without so many prying eyes, yes?"

Your answer was almost instant: "Yes."

Fiyero led you back up the staircase, and he didn't look back once at the ballroom.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"Somewhere where I can see you and only you," he said. "If that's alright."

"Oh," you softly said. "Yes. That's alright."

"Then follow me," he said. "Do you trust me?"

You smiled sincerely for one of the first times in the evening. Did you trust him? What kind of foolish question was that? If you had the chance, you'd do whatever he'd ask of you. You found your answer rather quickly, knowing within yourself that it was far truer than any other statement you had ever uttered.

"With all the power in Oz."

[sunsburns]

okay but logan taking an interest in neighbor who works in fashion?? he always sees her carrying stacks of magazines, dressed in her chic attire that is sometimes a bit too tight in all the right areas, glasses slipping off her nose, always making calls on that damn phone, and yet he always wishes she looked his way…

oh anon ur cooking here. i think this is what's pulling me out of my writing slump 🥴 (wade breaking the fourth wall, suggestive 16+)

the first time he noticed you, it wasn't even in your building complex, but rather the stairs to the subway station down the street. you were rushing up the steps while he, wade, laura and al were just about to enter. it was al who noticed you first, calling out your name and poking your side with her walking staff.

you shrieked, dropping one of the fabric rolls you had been carrying, a curse at the tip of your tongue before you realized who it was. "al," you sighed, a little relieved, when you saw her and wade, who was dressed in a "i love nyc" t-shirt.

logan, being the gentleman he was, picked up the roll you dropped, handing it back to you. it was then that you looked at him, or well, briefly glanced his way with a quick "thank you" before wade started fucking talking.

that son of a bitch.

he didn't even have the courtesy to introduce the two of you to each other.

it was obvious you were in a rush, lips in a tight smile as you nodded and tried to smile at wade telling you all about how they were about to "hit up" times square.

logan felt bad for you, but only a little bit. the longer you stayed to listen to wade's painful monologue, the more he could look at you. he was a little shameless about it, perhaps not the most gentlemanly thing he could've done, but god you were just a sight for sore eyes.

a pretty thing in a mini skirt despite the cool late september breeze that was starting to kick, white, lace and ruffled. delicate with tall brown leather boots. and a washed-out denim vest you wore as a top, two buttons undone, a little pink bow tied to the pocket. logan didn't know a lot about fashion, but he liked the way clothes looked on you.

and then you were gone, al kicking wade across the shin to shut him the hell up when she realized you were in a rush. she let you go, and you left, quickly trading numbers with laura and without saying much of a goodbye or another glance logan's way.

but he watched you go, watched the way your skirt moved with the wind too.

"yeah, look at it bounce. god, i am no better than any man. " wade hummed, leaning all his weight on logan's side. "i didn't peg you as a creep, honey badger. with the way you were undressing the reader with your eyes, i would've thought you were on a registered sex offender's list."

"shut the fuck up, wade."

logan could hear the way laura snorted, her and al continuing their way down the stairs.

wade held his hands up in surrender before logan could try anything (and by anything, he meant to cut him to pieces. wade can't deal with that right now, the blood would take ages to get off his white shirt). "i'm just saying, after living with us for a few months, i would've thought you'd met her by now."

logan raised his brow, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"i mean, she literally lives across the hall." wade turned his head to the side, pointing his thumb at logan, "he can't possibly be this stupid, right? it's gotta be for the plot to build up tension or something."

from that day on, logan's started to notice you more. not that he was looking for you, he's not that big of a creep. but he's spotted you out the window some days, running down the sidewalk, always in a rush. then he was able to hear the way you slam your door shut when you leave in the mornings or when you get back home.

every single day, you're usually out and about. unless it's a sunday, those are the days you stay in your apartment, sewing and hanging out with blind old al and sometimes even fucking laura. turns out, you were the one who got laura all of those new clothes, made them for her.

jesus christ, how out of the loop was he?

you stood out like a sore thumb, always carrying something. whether it be magazines, sketchbooks, fabric rolls, or bags, you're always struggling to open your door when you get home, keys sometimes slipping from your grasp as you're trying to juggle everything.

one day, logan had come back from a run and spotted you in the hallway. well, he had heard you from floors below and was able to pick up the lingering scent of your perfume by the time he entered the lobby. it took him a bit of courage to walk up the few flights of stairs knowing he'd bump into you.

what the fuck was this?

he was a grown-ass man for god's sake. you had him overthinking and blushing at the mere thought of being in the same space again.

when he saw you in the hallway, you were on the phone, the device tucked between your ear and your shoulder, cursing under your breath as you tried to pick up your keys. you were wearing a black dress that day, a black hat and a big maroon scarf around your neck, "no, emily, don't fucking buy it in that colour. it looks like fucking vomit. i don't care what amy told you, she's basically colour blind-"

you stopped mid-sentence when logan appeared in front of you, grabbing the keys for you. "oh- uh. thanks."

"yeah, no problem."

he noticed your nails and glasses were dark red to match the scarf. lipstick too.

you didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, he could tell from the way you froze, as if you didn't know what was supposed to happen next. he had disrupted your daily pattern, everything in your life moving constantly and quickly but all of a sudden everything is slower. it left you breathless.

"you're logan, right?"

he furrowed his brows. he hadn't expected you to remember him, nevertheless, remember his name. "yeah."

"wade told me all about you," you said, and your eyes dropped from his face a little, then lower, a smirk not too different from a sly cat's. you were staring shamelessly, eyes following every part and curve of his body, the way his long-sleeve shirt clung to his skin with sweat. "you don't seem austrailan."

logan tried not to groan. the picture of wade's stupid face in his mind now that you've mentioned him. he hated that the two of you seemed close. "i'm canadian."

"aren't you full of surprises?" you laughed, a smooth, teasing sound, and finally pushed the keys into the nob, unlocking the door. you turned, lingering by the door as if you were about to invite him in, but then the voice from your phone was trying to get your attention and you nearly seemed disappointed. "i'll see you around, logan."

and you were gone again.

logan liked to see your different outfits every day, dawning a different style every time you walked out that door. it was like you could never settle for one style, but you managed to look so fucking good in everything and every colour you put on.

he could never get tired of it. never get tired of you.

you and your tiny bottoms that he swore were getting smaller and smaller every day, even though the city grew colder and the days shorter. you and your stupid phone calls that sometimes went on late at night. you and your clothes, every single one different from the last.

you and your sketches, the ones he had started to find loose pages on the floor of the small hallway between your apartments, pretty designs of lingerie on a model that looked a little bit too much like you for it to be a coincidence.

though you never made another attempt to talk to him, you knew he was watching you. but you never chased, your heels were too expensive for that. you were just trying to give him a reason to come on you.

to you**

to come to you.*

sorry. typo.

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear boyfriend Toji who dreads getting sick more than the average person. He gets so grumpy during this little stunt in his health because he can't do much besides manage his harsh cough and runny nose, rest in bed and eat, but that's not even what he's most upset about. He's so pissed off that he can't be around you, unless he wants to get you sick too.

Oh, but you make it so hard on him. Walking into the room with a mug of tea with that smile that could nurse anyone back to health. You linger for longer than you should, even after he told you that if you're in there for too long, you'll get sick too. It's an annoying dilemma because on one end, watching you be sick is one of the most heart wrenching things he's ever seen. Like him, you pretend that you're fine, when really you feel so debilitated by the virus that invaded your immune system. You tell him you feel better, but your hearing is muffled and your voice is gravelly and doesn't seem to be recovering quickly. Toji sees right through it and his protective instincts kick in. He insists on doing everything necessary to get you back up and running. On the other end, he wants to see you and kiss you and just hold onto you through this horrible time he's having. He hasn't kissed you in almost three days. It really sucks that he's sick, but it's entirely unfair that you can't be near him. There is truly so much for him to be reasonably grumpy about.

"Hey, you're gonna get wrinkles on your handsome face," you say, smoothing down the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. "Do you really want me out of here that bad?"

He sighs. Your cool hands are heaven on his burning skin. "You know I don't, ma," he croaks out, pulling your hand down from his face and holding it. "I want you here, but you can't stay."

"Baby, you lost your pretty color. You look like a zombie, but also, it's killing me to only be allowed to check on you once every hour. I think it's time I come sleep in here, again."

"No," he protests, while shaking his head. He wishes he had rethought the gesture once he's steady again. He feels like he shook his brain and his head hurts, now.

"Toji, i'm taking care of you. I'm sleeping in our bed, tonight. I'm more worried about you than I am about getting sick."

He wants to laugh at how you sound like a mother scolding her child, but he knows it'll throw him into a nasty coughing fit. He can't argue with you too much in this state. He doesn't want to argue anyway. You care and it feels nice.

"If I get sick, I get sick," you say, settling down next to him, on your side of the bed.

Toji has never been one to pull the 'woe is me' card, but when you're smothering him with so much affection and cooing at him while caressing his uncomfortably warm face, it's hard not to lean into it. You relieve his discomfort with your methods of care. Be it medicinal remedies or your extra love and affection, even your patience. You weren't the one who proposed keeping distance from him. You didn't want to sleep on the couch those last couple nights, but you did it for the sake of letting Toji be comfortable. He's your lover and you don't see a reason to avoid him, like what he has is something more fatal. His contagiousness is disregarded, because it doesn't matter.

You know he would do the same for you so you don't wrinkle your nose when he starts feeling safe enough to nuzzle into you and sluggishly kiss you, while clinging onto you. He's extra clingy, too. Your body is a lot cooler than his, so it feels nice when he rests his cheek on your chest or when his hot, clammy hands go to your arms. You don't turn away or block your face when he coughs. You rub menthol onto his reddened chest and neck, and watch as he grins dumbly when his nose clears up for a little. When he falls asleep, you stay with him, even if he doesn't wake up for the next five hours. You watch over him and only get up to grab things that are necessary, like his medicine, some water, and a damp towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead and neck.

He takes on the role of the little spoon when you take care of him. Being pampered by you makes him feel small in all the best ways. He feels protected, like you're his guardian. It's really as if the only remedy he needs is you. The expanse of your love for him is unquantifiable, but when you wrap your smaller arms around him and press featherlight kisses onto his skin, it's like a force field that blankets him.

[sincerelyrki]

forbidden attraction

getting cheated on was never easy, but you wanna know what is? revenge. and as the infamous song says, if he’s cheating i’m doing him worse (aka fucking his four best friends).

pairing : enha!hyungline x fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. double pen. oral (m+?f?). cum eating/sharing. unsafe sex. spanking. handjob. profanity. name calling. degration. profanity. a bit of begging. fivesome. no cheating bcuz i don’t fw that. jakehoon kissing once. not shipping the members!! it’s just for the plot. 18+.

wc : 3.8

a/n : a birthday gift to myself and everyone else born on september 2🫡 bonnes fêtes pote <3

tl : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

Jay was appalled.

There were many things in life that confused him, but this? He’s never been as speechless as he was right now.

Whether that stemmed from his confusion on why one of his best friends would cheat on a girl like you or from your warm mouth wrapped oh so fucking deliciously around his cock- he wasn’t too sure.

But as much as he was appalled, he was thankful. so fucking thankful. it wasn’t every day that his best friend's ex-girlfriend came knocking on his door with nothing more than a poor excuse of a t-shirt and her slutty little miniskirts, not that he was complaining, but it was all too conflicting. 

Was he supposed to call Sungchan and tell him that his hot ex was at his door? He couldn’t imagine that going down too well with him, not after the next few words came spilling from your pretty lips- god your lips.

He almost wishes you never came over because he wasn’t sure how he could ever go back to being strangers with you, not after seeing the way you took him so perfectly down your throat. 

But as all good things come, they go. And it went with another knock on his door, one that barely sounded out before it was being swung open. 

Jay might’ve been the most unlucky lucky man to walk this earth. Lucky because he had you on your knees for him- unlucky because of the three other men who seemingly showed up out of nowhere.

“You started without us? I should’ve known a needy fucking slut wouldn’t have waited.” And by the faux pouting voice of Heeseung, Jay would’ve kept that narrative. It seemed that everyone except for himself had come to hear about this… event? Yep, he was definitely confused.

But as said before, he was so fucking thankful. But if he had known that opening the door to an enigmatic person like yourself, would he have left it closed?

No, no he wouldn’t have. Because if he had then 

he’d miss the singular hottest thing he’d ever seen- who knew watching his best friends fuck the girl he’s wanted for what feels like forever, could feel so fucking good? 

That’s definitely the one reason why he’s in this position right now, he’d refuse any other answer anyways. 

Jay’s head fell back with an abrupt moan, his head snapping back way too fast to be classified as safe. His legs shook from beneath you from the immense pleasure shooting across his entire midsection, his noises only grew louder the deeper he reached.

Your nails were scratching red lines across the man beneath you but through the combination of the hands grabbing against you and the cock you were being lowered on, you barely noticed. 

“Almost there, you’re doing so good.” Heeseung’s voice was no louder than a whisper when he breathed heavily in your ear, the actions going on under him getting to his head. His eyes were glued to the way you sucked his friend in perfectly, your walls moulding to the twitching man beneath you.

Heeseung was almost envious of Jay, he’d do anything to feel your tight cunt wrap around him instead. But he knew that his time would come- and that it’d feel almost a hundred times better. And so he continued to shush you from over your shoulder as his lips pressed small pecks against your open neck, his hands wrapped around your waist as he moved you against Jay. 

You fell apart in the two men’s embrace, the world fading into a haze as you fell into the feeling of getting used. It’s barely been a minute since you’ve been completely lowered on Jay yet you already felt completely fucked out.

Your sensitivity came in bursts of loud gaps and quiet moans, your legs unable to clench due to the tight holds of Jake and Sunghoon, one on each side. 

“Please, i-i need more…” Even in your current situation you couldn’t help but beg for more than you could take, the desire to be completely and utterly claimed by the four men surrounding you overtaking any conscious part of your brain. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you’ve had them all, and that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

“You need more or-?” Heeseung paused mid to push his teeth into your neck, his teeth pressing against you for a few seconds before pulling back. He glanced at the red spot once before he began lapping at it, his warm tongue providing comfort to the sore area. 

After soothing the spot he moved more confidently, his tongue pressing flat against your collarbone before licking a stripe up to your jawline. One of his hands left your waist to pull at your hair, the loudest gasp yet leaving your lips, “or do you just want it?” He pressed a final kiss against your ear before letting go of your hair. 

“Need, I need it.” Sunghoon looked up at Heeseung’s expected gaze before moving his eyes toward your face. His cock twitched in its confinements at your expression, his eyes following your tears streaks all the way down until your open mouth. 

He knew what Heeseung was asking of him, but he wanted something else. As much as he’d love to feel your lips wrapped around his dick, he’s been eyeing something much more… tasty. 

It came to a shock to both you and Jay once you felt something warm kitten licking at your entrance- well the spot where the two of you were connected in precisely. 

Both your eyes snapped down at the sudden sensation, it was safe to say that the sight didn’t disappoint. Sunghoon wasn’t shy in the way he was so evidently open to making the both of you feel as much pleasure as possible, his tongue pressing against the two of you as Jay slid out, Sunghoon’s tongue aiding him in pushing further in. 

It was nasty, but it tasted way too good for any of you to give a shit. Neither Sunghoon nor Jay seemed to care about the way Sunghoon’s tongue continuously licked along Jay’s cock. 

“I always knew that fucking bitch was fruity.” Jake tried to tease Sunghoon but not even he could stop his eyes from following the movements of Sunghoon’s ministrations. 

As much as the other two boys enjoyed watching the three of you, they were growing extremely impatient. 

Heeseung, being done with waiting around for his turn decided to force himself into the equation with an offer he knew you wouldn’t be able to refuse, “You wanna know what would feel even better?” 

He got his answer through the barely noticeable stutter of your growing noises. A smirk pushing its way onto his lips on its own accord. “Having both me and Jay inside of you, i’d make you feel so good.” 

He could feel your torso tense under his hold and so continued talking into your ears, his voice as compelling as a story told siren, “You wanted more, didn’t you? You’d feel so full, i’d be giving you everything you’ve ever longed for.” He made his point by pushing his palm against your lower stomach- right against the spot Jay’s cock was hitting inside of you. 

“He’s so big, right?” He cooed at you when you nodded your head, big tears staining your cheeks as his words fell through one ear and down to your needy cunt. “He’d feel so good against me, we’d stretch you out so good, make you feel things you’ve only ever dreamed about.”

Jay, having felt your tortuous clenches, was quick to get drawn to his high, his hips snapping up with a new vigor as he tried to chase his heavy weighted release. 

Heeseung noticed before you did, of course he did. He’d been watching the man since he’d first come through the door, it was only natural for his eyes to be watching his every reaction. 

“Or maybe we can have Jakey with me instead, hm? He’s not as long as Jay but he’s definitely thicker.” Liquid honey was practically pouring from Heeseung’s lips, the gold flowing across your skin until it reached its searing end along Jay’s thighs. 

“M’gonna fill you up, give you everything I have-” Jay was too far gone to realize what he was saying, but he meant every word. His hands replaced Heeseung’s after pushing the older man’s off, his hips pushing off the bed as he snapped into you as hard as possible. 

His head was empty but the thoughts still repeated out through his mouth, your seductive voice was the last thing he needed before completely filling you- “do it, fill me up.” 

Seeing Jay break beneath you was nothing compared to the feeling of him coming undone inside of you, and at this moment you couldn’t help but thank your ex. 

It was like a light switched inside of you, a newfound desire filling your entire body after seeing the way Sunghoon kept licking at the spot connecting you to Jay. His mouth was completely soaked with a combination of everything, the white ring along the bottom of Jays cock disappearing just as fast as it appeared. 

You grabbed Sunghoon’s hair, a shocked whimper leaving his mouth as you pulled him away. He was looking up at you so beautifully, the stars in his eyes and the wetness along his chin… he was irritably irresistible. and by the silence filling the room it seemed that everyone agreed.

“You just can’t get enough can you?” You used your own hand to nod his head at your question, his hair tight in your hold as you forced him to move at your will. You cooed at him before giving a small pout in response, your eyes still staring at his coated face. “You couldn’t help yourself, you just had to taste him didn’t you?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer, his mind too cloudy to comprehend anything being said. His eyes were barely open as he stared at you, his entire weight being pushed against Jay’s abdomen. 

His hands were pressed against the back of your thighs with his chest resting against jay, he was completely powerless. “How did he taste?” You knew he wouldn’t answer but you still asked with a slight hope that he’d give in, but as expected- he stayed silent. 

You repeat yourself louder this time as you tug his hair harsher against his scalp, he still remained silent as he allowed his head to move under your control. 

“He’s so dumb, he can’t even speak for himself.” Heeseung laughed against your neck before pushing his lips against your collarbones, yet his eyes remained on Sunghoon. 

You hummed in agreement before turning to Jake, your heart softening at the neglected boy across from you. “Poor puppy hasn’t gotten any attention yet here you are, a needy baby who can’t do anything but sit there in silence.” 

Jake visablly lightened up at your attention, his teeth slightly poking out from beneath his lips before he pushed closer to you, his head lightly knocking against yours whilst he nuzzled against you. 

You were still sitting on top of Jay’s sensitive cock, his cum still lodged in you. “Bad boy’s don’t deserve what I was going to give you.” Sunghoon finally came to his senses as he looked up at you in confusion, your eyes meeting for the second time tonight. 

“You were the closest to Sungchan, how could you do this to him?” You knew you weren’t the one to be talking, but you had more of a reason to betray him compared to Sunghoon. You got cheated on, but Sunghoon? You couldn’t think of a singular reason why he would turn his back on his childhood best friend just for a singular fuck.

“Why?” Sunghoon shook his head once before trying to respond but no words left his mouth, “what? Is your mouth suddenly dry?” Sunghoon shook his head in denial before snapping his lips closed and looking away once again, a heavy cloud of guilt replacing the dumb look in his eyes. 

“As I said earlier, bad boys don’t deserve it.” No one knew what the “it” that you were referring to was, not until you slowly pulled Jay from out of you, your fingers pushing against yourself as you tried to keep his release in. 

Still staring at Sunghoon’s avoidant figure you grabbed Jake’s wrist, your fingers wrapping around his hand as you pulled it down to replace your own. But before he could put his hand in place of yours, you stuck two fingers inside and scooped out as much of Jay’s cum you could while keeping some in. 

You used your hold on his hair to turn his head towards your hand, his mouth dropping open at the strings of cum connecting your two fingers. You pushed your fingers together before slowly pulling them apart knowing that all the boys were watching. 

“To think that this couldn’t been you…” Knowing that Sunghoon’s gaze was now following your fingers you rose it up to Jake’s mouth, your fingertips rubbing a bit of cum across his bottom lip before you pushed in between them. 

All eyes, including your own, watched as Jake took your fingers the way you’d taken Jay’s dick hours ago. 

Jake’s tongue swirled around your two digits, his eyes closing in focus as he attempted to clean your fingers the best he could. You could feel the vibrations of his mouth against your fingers, the feeling causing your need to grow more intense.

Before anyone could react, Sunghoon pulled your fingers from his mouth and replaced them with his mouth. His lips pushed against Jake’s with an animalistic desire, his tongue pushing between the other boys lips before Jake could even process the sudden kiss. 

Sunghoon ignored the sharp tingles from his scalp as he continued licking into the other boy's mouth, scooping the cum into his own mouth. It was supposed to be his anyways, so there was no reason why he wouldn’t be able to have it. It didn’t matter that he was eating it from another person's lips, maybe it tasted even better that way.

After sharing the cum between themselves Sunghoon pulled back with a devious smile, all guilt erased from his mind. Jake’s mind was still reeling from what had happened, his mind replaying the sight of their shared spit connecting their departing lips. 

“Sungchan would’ve have let you do this.” Sunghoon didn’t waste a second before kissing you, the taste of the other boys heavy on his tongue as it pushed it against yours. The taste was almost indescribable, hints of bitterness with the perfect amount of sweetness from whatever Sunghoon ate before coming to Jay’s. 

Sunghoon pulled off of you for a minute before using his hand to pull yours from his hair, his fingers entwining with yours as he messily stood up. His pants were off within seconds, and his back was against the bed just as fast.

He pulled you down on top of him, his hand letting go of yours to grip as your ass to help you grind down against him. His mouth met yours once again, his nose bumping against yours with each turn of his head, he was all too addicting. 

Heeseung tsked from above you, his disapproving gaze heavy on Sunghoon’s messy side profile. “You heard what she said earlier, you don’t deserve it.” Heeseung pulled you off of Sunghoon and back into his arms, your legs moving down to rest on top of Sunghoon’s flat knees. 

“Move.” Sunghoon’s pleading look barely worked on you, his expression changing into an annoyed one before he shot both boys beside you a glare. He didn’t say anything and just scooched over. 

Jake replaced his spot, but not before shooting Sunghoon a victorious wink. He made a whole show of fluffing his pillow before laying down, his hands moving to pull off his pants with a singular swipe. 

His walls came down the second you took over, your hands grabbing his shoulder as you lowered yourself down onto him. He was already hard from watching you earlier which lowered the prep time. 

Even though Jake was definitely wider than Jay, you still took him with ease. His cock gave you exactly what you needed yet you still wanted more. 

You didn’t have to voice out your desires because Heeseung was already tapping the head of his cock against you, his tip moving around to collect as much of your slick as he could. 

His hand moved from base to tip in a repeated motion, his fingers squeezing him in the manner that he was usually used to- but this time was different. He’d never fucked someone with another cock already pressed it, but that wasn’t to say that he hasn’t given it thought before.

He’s definitely thought about fucking you with one of his friends, way too many times that he’d like to admit. When you first came to him with the idea he would like to say that he was hesitant, but he wasn’t. The day you broke up with Sungchan was probably the best day of his life, well second best to today. 

He wanted to see if the real thing was as good as it was in his dreams. He already knew your pussy would be the best he’s ever felt but he's always known that- it wasn’t anything new. But this? This was all new. 

He knew you were ready after you looked back at him with a nod, your eyes sharing unspoken words before he began to push in. He knew the stretch would be rough and he fully attended to take his time to let you adjust to the new feeling. 

He rubs an encouraging hand along your back, his palm gently pushed you flatter against Jake’s chest as his other hand held his base.

Jake, seeing the way your body was reacting, wrapped both of his arms around your waist. The new addition made it easier for Heeseung to contort your body into the way he wanted, his hand moving from your back and up to your hips to pull you up higher. 

Even with the two boys comforting you, you still remained as tense as before. Heeseung knew it wouldn’t feel as good to you if you remained in that state so he tried his best to help loosen you up, “Relax, i’ve got you.” And it worked.

And after a few minutes of random thrusts both boys managed to find a shared rhythm, their normal stroke pattern differentiating from each other. 

All three of your bodies were shining in sweat, the heat from your bodies rubbing against each other making a force field of humidity- but it didn’t bother any of you too much. At least not enough to stop. 

You could feel the bed from beside you moving, Sunghoon growing angsty with his lack of attention. “As much as I love to watch this- I think I'm going to explode if I don't feel your touch in the next three seconds.”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatic boy beside you with your best attempt at a small smile. It was hard to show any reaction to him at all by the way the two men were pushing into you, your body was on fire and you could feel your pleasure everywhere. 

Jake ignored Sunghoon and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, his tongue alternating between swirling around it and rolling it between his teeth. He didn’t want to share you with Sunghoon, not if it had the chance to cost him your perfect little pussy. 

Your mouth dropped open in pleasure, moans breaking through your no longer closed lips. It was too much at once but yet it somehow managed to be too little as well, you still needed more. You came here to be ruined, to be destroyed beyond fixable. And with your mouth still working- you weren’t getting that. 

“Fuck my mouth.” Sunghoon didn’t waste a second before pushing up beside you, his thigh pressing against your shoulder before he tapped the tip of his cock against your bottom lip.

“Will you be able to take it? I don’t think you’ll be able to focus with the other two taking you like this.” Sunghoon managed to switch the rolls once again, his voice coming out doubtful with an underlying degrading tone. “Maybe we’ll see why Sungchan cheated on you.”

Striker. Sunghoon didn’t wait for your response before he pushed into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat right away. He ignored your gag and held himself there for a few seconds- enjoying the way you gagged and choked around him. “It doesn’t feel good, does it? To have something that was rightfully yours be taken away so easily?”

He didn't care about how you reacted to his words, his need to feel your tongue pressing against him overruling anything. “You can’t even take us all at once, poor Jay sitting back and watching you get dicked down by all his friends.”

Sunghoon pulled one of your hands from its position on Jake’s shoulder before holding your open palm out to Jay, “Make him feel good too.” 

Jay was heavy in your hand when you swirled your finger around his slit, his dick still sticky with his release. He wrapped both hands around your wrist as he fucked himself into your fist, his moans matching Sunghoon’s as they worked with your moving body. 

Sunghoon felt eyes staring at him and when he looked up he saw Heeseung’s heavy lidded eyes staring back at him, his reflection barely noticeable through his pupils. Sunghoon smirked at him once before nodding his head towards you, “better make her cum fast, Jay and I want our turn.”

Heeseung shook his head with a challenging smile, “nah, I think we’re gonna edge her a few times. I’m in no rush, I’ve got all night.”

Jay chucked from the side before chiming in, “Knowing your track record you’re definitely not going to last.” Jay was lying and they all knew it, yet it still struck a chord in Heeseung.

“You sure? Pretty sure our girl didn’t even cum whilst fucking you, did you?” Heeseung stared Jay in the eye whilst baby taking you, his hand rubbing your lower back in a fake comforting way. 

Heeseung’s hand moved lower, his hand now resting against your ass. He watched the way your ass bounced back against him and the way your skin jiggled each time your bodies made contact. He pressed down once more before raising his hand up before smacking it down against you, his eyebrow raising when he felt you clench down around them.

“You liked that?” He did it again just to check and once again, you clenched. “Of course she likes that.” Jake now chimed in from beneath you as soon as his lips left your tits, “she always has.”

All three other boys shared a confused look before asking for Jake to elaborate, “What? You think Sungchan was the first to meet her?”

[sapphiresaphics]

The biggest misunderstanding about Caitlyn from fans actually comes from season 1, not 2. Fans see Caitlyn break Vi out of prison and talk to Ekko about empathy and think that she’s learning and growing as a character and then when season 2 hits they think all that growth was somehow “abandoned” or “reversed.”

But that’s not true.

Caitlyn has ALWAYS been a spoiled little rich girl who came from a family of rich people who are so used to how much power they have in the city that they don’t regard ANYONE’S feelings or respect ANY rules. Both Marcus and Salow spell this out to us.

Marcus: “She’s a Kiramman! Just like them she does what she wants! I can’t control her!”

Salow: “It’s the name! It bewitches people.”

Time skip Caitlyn is introduced investigating the botched Jinx job at the shipping docks. She is not an official detective and Marcus makes it clear she isn’t supposed to be there. She’s supposed to be guarding her family’s pavilion, but she ignored both her mother’s AND the sheriff’s wishes to investigate a crime because she’s bored.

She breaks Vi out of prison AFTER she’s been effectively laid-off by Marcus, using her connections to Jayce to forge her release papers. Reminder: at this point in the story she is technically not a cop anymore. She’s doing all this stuff with noble intentions of trying to uncover Silco and bring Jinx to justice… but what she’s doing is technically illegal. And the only reason she’s able to get away with it is because she’s a spoiled rich BRAT.

Her privilege shields her from repercussions in season 1, just as they do in season 2.

The difference is that she’s now been traumatized by Jinx. Her bodily autonomy was violated by Jinx kidnapping her when she was literally naked in the shower, she was most likely tortured by Jinx, was tied up and painted on, threatened to be executed at gun point by Jinx, and then to top it all off Jinx murders her mother in a terrorist attack.

And Caitlyn tries to hold it all in. She tries to confide with Vi, she tries to let her hatred go… but both times she is denied her the ability to grieve properly. First by her privilege and not understanding that asking Vi to become an Enforcer would be rejected. And then by Ambessa by funding the attack on the memorial service.

She has no parental figure to guide her, her rage and hatred for Jinx is boiling over… so she resorts to what she always does and what she did back in season 1. She just does what she wants to get her way. She convinces Jayce to develop hextech weapons, she assumes the role of leader for house Kiramman, and she uses her unique position in power to bend systems her family put in place to protect Zaun against them.

Caitlyn in season 2 is very much the same Caitlyn we’ve always known from season 1. The difference is that in season 1 we were rooting for her because we like Vi. She exhausted the same disrespect for authority and people back then but they were in service of things we, the audience, liked. So we gave her a pass. We excused her rule breaking. We ignored her unique brand of privilege because we liked what her privilege could unlock for us.

Season 2 slams that door shut and tells us “no, actually, you weren’t supposed to like this because nobody in power is innocent.”

But rather than learn more about Caitlyn and understand her character better… people are dismiss this all as “bad writing” or “character assassination.”

And what’s more frustrating is the whole “dictator arc.” Because frankly I would argue that by that point Caitlyn HAS learned her lesson about privilege and power, but it’s too late to stop things now. Just as Jayce going vigilante in season 1 was the start of a cataclysmic event, Caitlyn gassing Zaun to look for Jinx results in Caitlyn losing everyone she trusts and respects. Broken up with Vi and alone, she is suddenly granted even MORE power than she’s ever had by Ambessa. And you can see it affect her. In that moment she realizes that Ambessa is the one who spearheaded the attack on the memorial. After seeing what happened between her and Vi, she realizes that by taking this role she will be responsible for even greater atrocities.

She has 2 choices. Let it all go, or use the position of power to her advantage. And just like before in season 1… she chooses the later. Her goal may still be to get Jinx, but she does NOT want to be a part of Ambessa’s dictatorship. This is why she’s so reluctant to join even with all the peer pressure. This is why she’s so slow and hesitant to walk forward. And she only accepts the cape she is crowned with once Ambessa says “your mother will have justice.”

What’s most important about this scene is that SHE KNOWS Ambessa is using her. That’s why when we see her in Act 2 she’s already trying to counter Ambessa’s plans. That’s why she’s constantly challenging Ambessa with “why is peace always the excuse for violence?” That’s why when Ambessa says “you don’t trust me?” Caitlyn responds with a resounding “no.” And that’s why when Vi drops back into her life she realizes she has an opportunity to correct her mistakes. She doesn’t switch on a dime because Vi fluttered her eyes and called her “cupcake.” She switches because she was already looking for an out. And this is why when Vi confronts her in Act 3 she screams “I KNOW.”

Caitlyn’s arc is that of someone who always had privilege and power coming to realize too late how dangerous and harmful that power is. By the time she learns her lesson she’s already entrenched with Ambessa and stuck in this hateful miasma for Jinx. Season 1 was setup for what was going to follow with how her character was going to learn and atone for her mistakes.

And what’s so god damn frustrating about all the discourse around Caitlyn is how reductive and dismissive it all is. So much of the discourse completely ignores the actions she takes to fix things in favor of trumping up the actions she took to get there. All of her transgressions in season 1 are ignored and her own internalized growth is reduced to a joke about Vi calling her cupcake. It’s MADDENING.