#i'm not sure it came out right. but i tried

[lufyuu]

,, Bloodstained Crown ''

Yandere emperor x vengeful ex-crown prince reader

Tw/s: obsessive love, kidnapping, heavy yandere themes, rough + shameless + clingy yandere, dubcon, voyeurism, cockwarming, sex in public, power imbalance, one sided enemies to lovers, mentions of killing/death, slight gore.

They never seem to stop, those clouds. Crying all day as if mourning something important. Their tears seem to wash away the thick red liquid on the dirty floor. It wouldn't have been possible if not for the roof of the manor being in shambles. "T-t-those damned Luminayres—", he coughs, and coughs, and coughs, almost reaching his limit and taking his last breath. The heavy rain drowns out the sobs of a young teen, clinging onto what little hope he had left. He was in utter shock, not even able to say a single thing. Nothing came out his mouth. Not even a single whimper looking at the dead bodies. Dead bodies of his parents, servants, everyone who had ever lived in that palace. Dead. In a pool of their own blood. No amount of apologies will stop this former royal from avenging them all.

Even after so many years. Perhaps even a decade has passed. You're determined to finish what they started. They made a huge mistake. They didn't check if you were already dead or not. The bullet that had been lodged into your arm is not replaced with a scar which is a reminder that no matter how much they tried to cover it up, you'll always be out for their throats. When the sun sets and the streets are empty, you look around for ways to get into the protected palace. Revenge really isnt an easy feat.

"[Fake Name]! Did I hire you to doze off or work?", a deep voice yells out from the otherside of the sunlit room. You wipe a bit of sweat off your forehead, "coming boss", you jog over with a semi clean cloth to where your higher up is. "This is very dirty, how do you expect our customers to like it?", he points at one of the many displayed weapons. You notice a few specks of noticeable dust, "my apologies boss, I'll clean it all up right away", you slowly and carefully brush off the dust off of everything to make sure they look good enough for customers to stop by and look at, perhaps even buy. Your salary here isn't worth the work you're doing but as long as you can keep a roof over your head and food on the table, you'll be fine. It's way better than being on the streets afterall. This is almost your way of moving on. Even if it's not affective in the slightest.

After dusting off most of the armour, the doorbell chimes. A man walks in wearing armour. Someone who works for the royal family that's for sure. The boss is almost taken aback but keeps his composure, "W-welcome honorable soldier!", he instantly lightens up, a huge smile on his face while you freeze in place, not daring to face the man who has just entered the shop. The soldier doesn't say anything, only looking around, searching for something. "Do you have a blade with a handle made out of gems? Specifically diamonds", the boss is even more taken aback, as if the shop has anything that valuable. "My deepest apologies honorable soldier, I fear we do not have anything that fits that description", he frowns, "do you take custom orders?", "y-yes but I'm afraid we don't have the gem—", the man is quickly sileneced by the soldier putting a huge sack on the ground, from a small opening, the diamond shines just enough for everyone to see, including you. "His Royal Highness, the prince will be needing this next week for his engagement, he will be personally coming to pick it up", with that, the soldier turns his heels and walks out the door, the bell chiming once more as he does.

Something about this ignited the flame in you once more. This may be your last time.

"This means more work for us", well, more of work for you. With your mind elsewhere, you almost dont hear his voice. When you realize he did say something, you give a quick nod and head towards the jewelry shop to look at some gems. Your boss didn't need to ask you too anymore, you already knew. You already know this street like the back of your hand. It was an easy task reaching to your destination.

"Mr Albert, can you help make a handle out of diamonds?", you ask as you step into the shop. Even if you didn't intend it, the two of you had became pretty close but you know that won't last long. "Of course [Fake Name]! What kind are they?", you hand him the heavy bag of diamonds, shocking him as the diamond shines brightly. "Whose are these?", "the prince's, it's regarding his engagement to the princess Elena", Albert is even more taken aback as he grabs one of the glistening diamonds with one hand while the other holds a magnifying glass to it. "This is really high quality..!", you nod, "so, how long will it take?", "perhaps 5 days if I rush it."

5 days.

5 days is all you have to prepare. This might be your only chance. Even if it's half a percent, you're willing to take that risk. This is an opportunity you've been waiting for. You don't even know if the prince will be there or not, it's just something you'll have to count on.

The rest of your work day passes by as usual, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing unique, nothing to really make you feel content with life. Though, how could you? Even after all these years, you haven't given up on what you've been seeking ever since you were just a young teen. Whatever it is, it's still near impossible to achieve in these circumstances.

You take a seat looking out to the ocean, the sun setting as you do. The view reminds you a lot of the past. The very distant and unforgivable past. The little boy who had accompanied you all those years ago. The perpetrator.

Enough of the past. You're here to enjoy the sunset and ocean breeze. You sit in silence, relaxing your body and closing your eyes for a bit. Unfortunately though, even when the atmosphere is relaxing, something about it does annoy you a bit, the sound of people murmuring as they walk behind you, on the road. You can smell something sweet and know it's from the bakery not too far from your seat. This area used to be quiet, nice, full of trees and grass up until people decided they needed more land to use for shops. Everything changes overtime, nothing you can do about it.

After just a few minutes, the sun has dissapeared from sight, the moon taking its place. It's an everyday thing, nobody finds it unusual. Once the sun is gone, the moon takes over.

You look around, some shops are closing down while others stay open for the night. That's when you decide it's time for you to get some rest. No use staying here and dwelling on the past. It can't be changed anyways. As you're getting up, a carriage drives right by you, you catch a small glimpse of who the carriage is carrying. A mere glance from their midnight almost black eyes makes you shiver. It reminds you of the ocean at night and something more. Though, you can't quite place your finger on what it reminds you of.

Those 5 days pass by painstakingly slow. Too slow for you who wanted to have the prince's severed head on your shelf right this moment. When the day finally came, you waited in the shop. Acting as if it was any other day. Well, it sort of was. The only difference being the soon to be murder weapon concealed under your clothes. Your foot tapped impatiently, wanting to hear the sound of the townspeople murmuring or giggling, causing a ruckus. It would more than likely indicate the prince's arrival. "[Fake Name] why are you tapping your foot?", your boss asks with an annoyed expression. He hates the tapping sound, it drives him crazy. Though, when you turn around, wanting to answer or apologize for the action, the door opens. "Pardon me, I'm here to pick up a custom order?", a sweet and grace-laced voice calls out from just a mere meters from you. "O-oh yes of course your highness!", the old boss scrambles to the back, searching for where he had placed such an important order. Meanwhile, you stared bullets into the royal. This was it. Your chance. Maybe even your last.

As the prince takes a couple steps to admire the shop owner's handiwork, you took this as an opportunity to get closer. "Hm? I'm alright you don't need to show me around", you glance at the entrance, a few guards stationed to keep the prince safe but you wonder, why aren't any of them by his side? That's a stupid thing to do. Leaving their one and only heir all vulnerable to any and all attacks. With a swift move, you grab your weapon and direct it to the prince's throat, pinning him to the shelf. "Oh?", is all he lets out. An interested and excited 'oh' . The blade stops just a fraction from his skin, leaving him unharmed. Even as you try to press the blade closer, aiming to slice his soft skin, your strength is no match for his.

"Your highness! Here is your—", the old man nearly has a heart attack on the spot, nobody would blame him if he did. "[FAKE NAME]!? WHAT IN HEAVEN'S SAKE ARE YOU DOING!?", his screams are loud enough to reach the ears of the guards outside, prompting them to turn around and look at whatever was the matter. With no hesitation, they burst into the shop, almost breaking the glass door. "Drop your weapon immediately!", one of them says while the others surround you. "Step away and nobody gets hurt", their tone intimidating, unfortunately or fortunately, not quite intimidating enough for you. "Agh, fuckers", you turn to the guards, letting the prince out of your sights for just a splint second. A terrible mistake.

With a swift move, your blade is removed from your hands. "No need to worry, I'm afraid our attacker here is quite inexperienced", you look back at the prince who now has an even wider smirk. Little do you know, he's also scanning your features, taking it all in. "Huh, your face is familiar, that attitude, not so much", you glare at the man nad try to punch him using your non-dominant hand which is also stopped by him. "Y-y-your highness! I am incredibly sorry for the trouble he has caused!", the old man is clearly referring to you, "rest assured he's never allowed to work or come near here ever again!", he's almost crying, trembling with fear as to what the royal family might do to him. The prince seems to be thinking as he pauses for a few seconds before his eyes lit up. With a firm grip, the royal heir clasps both your hands in one of his, making sure you can't make any sudden attacks on him. With the now free hand, he stretches it to the boss, "where's my dagger?", and just like that, the boss is scrambling to hand it over. Once the prince had it in his hands, he looked over at your puzzled and angry face. "Is it pretty?", he holds up the dagger to your face. You think he's about to stab you with it so you remain silent. "I'm Prince Vaelius if you haven't already known", he scans you, "and you are..[Fake Name]?", he seems unsure of it himself, wanting confirmation from you but you don't give it. "Fuck you and fuck your royal family bullshit", you spat out with venom. Most would be incredibly angry by now but not him. He finds it amusing how you have a vendetta against him and he doesn't even know you!

Vaelius takes a step, then another, and another towards the exit. The guards open the door for him, wondering what his next move would be. As the carriage door opens, you're thrown into it, followed by the prince who climbs in immediately after you. You try to kick the man but all that does is amuse the royal sicko. "Let me..off this dammed carriage!", you scream and try to kick once more, only for your ankle to be grabbed by Vaelius who pulls you closer. Your leg now sitting on his shoulder as the carriage moves slowly. "Your life's in my hands now, [Name]."

"[Name], meet Prince Vaelius", your mother, the Queen of Aldoria introduces you to the little boy infront of you. He looks about 10. Now why would you befriend such a young boy when you can play with others your age? "Go on, talk to his highness", she gives you a gentle push which makes you a bit annoyed. The little boy looks up at you, his midnight eyes almost glowing as he looks into yours. It's as if he's mesmerized by you. "H-hi!", his voice is still high pitched unlike yours. You're in your early teens so it's been a while since you've heard an annoying high pitched voice. Nonetheless, you have to be nice. "Hello, I'm [Name] [Last Name]", you reach out to shake his hand but you mom quickly puts your hand down, "it's impolite, give a little bow", she whispers in your ear to which you oblige. You give the smaller boy a bow, to which he smiles sweetly at. "Mn! I'm Vaelius!", he excitedly replies.

Arriving at the place you never thought you'd ever step foot in ever again, you feel a sense of dread wash over. However, this feeling was soon followed by anger and frustration.

The prince steps out first and holds out his hand, anticipating yours to grab his. Instead, you ignore the outstretched hand and get out yourself. Dusting your clothes as your feet touch the ground. "Are you repulsed by me?—", as he asks that, your hand grabs his collar, glaring at him, "I won't cause a ruckus as long as you keep your hands off of me", "but you're the one touching me, are you not?", he looks down at the hand on his collar which you quickly pull back, turning your attention back to the magnificent castle infront of you.

With guards surrounding the both of you, you are brought into the castle, the prince never leaving your side. As the palace doors open, there are already maids taking the prince's coat off, making him feel at home while you look at him in dissapointment. Does he not even know how to take off his coat? Anywho, you look around, taking it all in. It's been years since you've last been here. "Do you like your new home?", "home?", you instantly turn around and ask, the maids retreating to their positions. Vaelius waltz towards you, a cunning look on his face that makes you want to punch it off him, "yes, you're marrying into this family, [Name]", he takes your hand, "didn't I say not to touch me!—", Vaelius places a peck on the back of your hand, "you wouldn't want to dissapoint the entire empire, now would you?", his eyes show a glint of obsession, though it passes faster than it appeared. For some reason, you can't pry your eyes from the lovestruck prince. "What are you saying...", you're suspicious of Vaelius, just what in heaven's sake is he talking about.

Vaelius gestures for one of his servants to come over. She's holding a blade with both hands which Vaelius grabs, handing it to you, "this is for you, my dear fiancé", his voice alluring and almost commanding you to take the blade in his hands. Despite his warm smile, the air felt heavy with an unspoken tension. Neither one of you wanted to lose this unspoken battle. "Or shall I remind you of how you tried to hurt the one and only heir?", his eyes open to look at you with a fierce look in them, you feel sick to your stomach. You hate him, you hate his family but this might be your only chance in surviving and carrying out your revenge. Lose the battle but win the war as they say.

You grab the blade part, bleeding a bit as it slices into your hand, "then, I'll gladly accept, my prince", you look at him with glaring eyes as he stares back with a smile, "aren't you sweet? Come up with more nicknames before our wedding, won't you?", he gestures again to the maids and in a few seconds, those same maids are guiding you to your new room. Temporary of course. You'd be sharing the same bed as the prince soon, patience.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"At least the room's nice", you mumble to yourself after seeing where you'll be sleeping for the next few days or weeks. The maids all exit the room, with one letting you know that if you ever need something, to just ring the bell near your bed. You try to take it all in. What you did, what you will do and what he will do. The prince is unpredictable, making you all the more uneasy and wary of him, but for now, you should just enjoy a lavish lifestyle. Just like all those years ago.

"The prince is a beauty isn't he?", your mother catches you off guard. The two of you are sitting on a bench in the garden while ththe prince is with the emperor, discussing a few things with your father. "What do you mean, mother?", you ask in return and she giggles, "don't think I haven't noticed your eyes constantly following his figure now", your eyes widen, face visibly flushed. You can't say anything or rebuttal her words as you know it's true. She notices this and turns to you, a sweet smile on her face, "you might as well ask him out now before he gets snatched up by a girl or perhaps another guy", she jokes but sees that your expression is uneasy, "sweetie, I don't care who you like, you're allowed to love whoever, I mean, you're a teen now! I'm practically a soon to be grandma", she laughs and you do too. The small blonde prince turns to look at you with a huge innocent grin on his face. Little did you know, the emperor had noticed this and glared bullets into you.

"[Name]~?", Vaelius calls out, leaning a bit too close to you for comfort. You throw him off of you immediately, knocking him onto the carpeted ground, "ouch!", he rubs the back of his head which had collided with the ground, something in you compells you to lend him a hand. So, you extend one for him to take and he does so. "Why did you sneak up to me like that!?", you ask, furious. He stands up, almost towering over you, you don't remember him being this tall.."I wasn't, you were just spacing out", he sighs, looking like a hurt puppy who got scolded at by its owner, "don't pull that face and why are you here anyways?", he perks up at the question, "well, you are my soon to be husband, it's only natural I'd introduce you to my father", "I've already met hi-", "no time to lose!", he drags you out the room and into the hallways.

"Father! Meet my fiancé!", Vaelius pushes open the giant door to the emperor's office where Emperor Adrien sat. "What do you mean, son?—", his words are almost cut off as you enter the room, looking like you've been forced to be here, "who is that.", the emperor rises from his seat, looking down at you but not his son, "my fiancé", Vaelius happily says, holding your hand up. "Vaelius Luminayre. What in the world are you thinking", his tone is calm but you can tell he's beyond furious with his one and only son. "I'm perfectly capable of choosing my spouse, am I not, father?", Vaelius is passive aggressive with his words, daring the emperor to oppose his marriage with [Name]. "And what about Princess Elena", he is glaring at you, as if decades of hatred is surfacing once more. You can only look on in silence as the argument between father-son is going on. "Oh, her? You can tell her family we won't be needing them anymore", Vaelius says as if it's the most obvious and easiest thing in the world, ignoring the fact that they had been engaged for half a year. The families had hoped for Vaelius to take her as his empress but now..things have taken a turn for the worse.

"Vaelius. You two will not have my blessing", the emperor thought his son would listen after his little threat but that was far from true. "I didn't come to ask for your blessing, father", Vaelius slyly says, you can almost see an irk mark forming on his cheek. Emperor Adrien is shocked by this response, "Do you understand that you WILL NEVER become emperor if you marry that wretched man!? Has he corrupted your mind!?", the emperor yells and throws a vase your way, only for it to be blocked by Vaelius, what have you even gotten yourself into!? "Keep telling yourself that, old man", the prince turns around, taking you with him and exiting the room as yet another vase flies across the room, hitting the closed door.

This was only the start of your new life.

After that incident, your life became...easier? Well, it was all thanks to Vaelius anyways. Somehow, a few days after Vaelius met with his father to discuss about the marriage further, the emperor suddenly approved of your marriage. With the condition that the marriage would have to be postponed until 3 months later. This was also an opportunity for you to get rid of the royal family and not be tied to them in any way. You just had to figure out when was the perfect time for your plan to be executed.

And that moment came sooner than you expected. It was midnight, you knew everyone in the palace, other than the royal guards, were fast asleep by this point. The palace eerily quiet, the atmosphere almost horror-like as you roam the hallways to look for the emperor's chambers. To your utter shock and surprise, two guards lay dead on the ground of their own blood infront of the cracked open door. "Holy shit..", you cover your mouth. Even though you had seen this countless times...this time was different, it reminded you so much of that night

You also wondered, who could have beaten you to it? With your curiosity growing with each passing moment, you decide to take a peek. Avoiding the blood and corpse, you look through the small crack of the door. Your stomach drops at the sight. The moonlight shines on the perpetrator's blonde hair, in his left hand, the head of the now dead emperor, a blade on his right. The floor and walls covered in blood, the perpetrator himself is also covered in thick red liquid. Your eyes widen as the man notices someone staring at him. He turns to smirk at you, revealing himself as Vaelius Luminayre.

"Come in, why don't you?", he beckons you in, your legs move towards him, obeying his command. Once you reached him, your legs give out, falling into his arms as the bloodied head drops onto the ground with a loud thud. "Well aren't you so sweet? Falling for me like this", your head rests on Vaelius' shoulder as he holds you by your waist. You're almost frozen in place seeing what the prince, no, your fiancé, has done to the emperor. "V-Vae...", "sshh", he hushes you, "I did this for us, [Name], you've wanted this from the beginning, haven't you?", he chuckles in a low voice, a terrifying laugh. "Now we can get married the second the sun rises, isn't that amazing?", he holds your hand and makes you face him, lifting your chin to stare into his eyes as his bore into yours. "I'll be yours and you'll be mine, how's that?", with nothing left to say, you nod in agreement, did you want this from the start..?

"[Name] I'm gonna marry you one day!", the young boy says while pouting. Another lady had been flirting with you prior before this and unfortunately the young prince had witnessed it all. He was not happy. "W-what!?", you're taken aback by his suddenness, "you can't marry me..!", you yell to which he pouts even more, "why? Is it because I'm not a pretty lady!?", Vaelius seems like he's on the verge of crying so you give in, "o-okay then, I'll marry you", his mood takes a turn for the better and he smiles, "no take backs!"

The Prince always gets what he wants. Whether that's the title of Emperor or your hand in marriage. Today marks the day he gains it all. Not only is he the emperor by law, you are also now the Imperial Husband. A title that will be bestowed to you in a couple hours time.

The wedding ceremony was nothing short of grand. Everyone was invited to witness their new emperor's marriage to the former Prince of the [Last Name] house. Most cheered for the couple while some were dissapointed. Oh the look in Princess Elena and her family's eyes, priceless in the eyes of the now Emperor Vaelius. The wedding itself was held in the Royal Palace. Usually it'd be held at a church but Vaelius wanted it to be even more grand so he chose his palace. You even had a custom made outfit fit for the occasion, a pristine white dominated suit with the colors of your house. This was Vaelius' way in honoring the late King and Queen of your kingdom. You hated him and still do probably but you can't deny that what the both of you had in the past, still remains in the present.

Even though you didnt know whether he had been involved or not, something in you wanted him to be involved in your family's massacre, at least then..you can avenge them still, with the former emperor dead and all. You can't fail them but, is it worth murdering an innocent man for? The man whom you had fallen for all those years ago no less. In this marriage, you can't tell if it's either unrequited or requited love.

"Your Imperial Highness..!", a commoner girl says as you and your now husband pass by the crowds of civilians. They're all begging to get your attention, screaming, calling out and even crying, all so that you'd notice them. Maybe theyre trying to gain your favor or maybe they simply find you captivating, Vaelius sure understands where they're coming from. He finds you absolutely irresistible and it would be natural for the public to be captivated by your beauty too. So long as they know their place in his empire. You turn to face the girl who called out for you, her face full of joy despite her shabby clothing and dirty appearance. Why was she so happy just to get a glimpse of you? You'll have to get used to this life now.

What you probably can't get used to is your new life with the Emperor Vaelius. The moment the two of you stepped into your new shared chambers, Vaelius wasted no time in pushing you onto the bed, "Vaelius! What are you doing!?", "we're married now, aren't we? Let's spend the first night like husband and wife", he licks his lips at the sight of you sprawled on the bed. He's been waiting all this time for your return and his want for you can no longer be suppressed.

Without a second thought, Vaelius attacks your neck, littering it with kisses and hickeys. The pain was bearable, but the way he licked you really did send shivers down your spine, this sensation is very new to you. Instead of pushing him off, your hands pull him closer, something compells you to. It's as if the you from all those years ago came back, wanting to hold the now Emperor Vaelius. You close your eyes in pleasure, containing the moans threatening to escape your mouth. "You like this, huh", he speaks against your sensitive skin, making you all the more turned on. "M..mhm", you manage to get out. Vaelius then pulls back, looking at your mesmeric expression. "My...beloved [Name]...", your name rolls off his tongue over and over again as if he's afraid of the possibility of not being able to utter that name anymore. "Never leave me again", it sounds more like a demand rather than a plea. Before you could respond, he took both your hands with his left, his lips pressed against yours while his right hand is wandering down to your pants. Stopping to unzip them. If this was any other piece of clothing, he would have ripped it open. But since it's your wedding outfit, he'd like to keep it intact.

With his hand rubbing your cock, you reach out for said hand, wanting it to stop as you already feel to much pleasure. Never in your life would you have even thought that your first love would be touching you like this, as your husband no less. "Hm? Do you not like it?", Vaelius knows you like it, he just wants to hear those words come out your mouth. "Or would you like it more back there?", his hand wanders towards your hole, a finger pressing on the entrance as you moan just by his touch. His finger stays firmly pressed against your needy hole for a few seconds, enough for you to whine, "Vaelius..just put it in already!", a command he obeys as he immediately inserts a finger into your hole, you close your eyes due to the unfamiliar feeling, it feels weirdly pleasureful. Something in you wants more, something bigger, but you dont voice that out. Though, you neednt say anything for him to know what you want. He pushes in a second finger in, making you cling onto him.

"..ah...NGH...!?", you almost let out a loud moan as you feel your protaste being stimulated, closing your eyes in the process. Vaelius smirks, enjoying the way you're turning into putty under him. He didn't say anything as you moan out. Though, it was clear just by looking at his face, that he was thoroughly enjoying the lewd noises coming from you. Without wasting anymore time, he removed his fingers from your hole.

You felt empty, until something else pressed against your wet hole. Fuck! He's huge..! was your first thought as you took a good look at his lubed cock. You didn't even dare to estimate the size of it, "it won't fit..", a reaction which makes the emperor chuckle, "your body was made for me, of course it will fit", before you could respond or let out a snarky comment, Vaelius thrusts himself into you, gripping your waist as he does. You arch your back, eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, "f-fUcK!", you yell out, "you're so tight..", Vaelius was clearly enjoying the way your hole clenched around him. You, on the other hand, wasn't used to this. Tears form in your eyes but they dont fall. When you look back at the blonde, his face is red, seemingly lost in thought himself as he stares at his cock halfway in your hole. You felt his grip tighten and without warning, he slams his cock as deep as possible inside your ass. You let out a loud scream-like moan. The pleasure and pain hitting you all at once, "my dick feels...so good", he leans down to kiss you. You moan into the kiss, him exploring your mouth with his tongue, making you a mess as drool trickles down your chin.

You were getting used to his size due to him staying still but then Vaelius suddenly pulls out, leaving only the tip inside before thrusting it all in. "Ack..! Ah!", you moan as he thrusts in and out, leaving almost no room for you to breathe as he part his lips from yours, focusing on pounding your ass and filling it up with cum. You on the other hand, felt your eyes rolling back, your whole face flushed as you had a firm grip on the bed sheets. Your moans became louder than before, turning your now husband even more. His pupils were practically heart shaped as he looked at your messy form being fucked so hard and rough you look as if you're losing yourself.

You could see and feel the way Vaelius thrusted his cock in and out of you, your lower belly bulging whenever he went all the way inside. This sight made Vaelius all the more horny. Soon enough, he felt as if he was at his limit, "I'm gonna cum...!", as he said that, you grew more aware of your own orgasm. The more he pounded your hole, the more you felt close to your climax. "Cum with me, darling..!", he said inbetween grunts and gasps. Your body convulsed as you let out your first load in a while. Not only that, but the feeling of Vaelius' thick and warm seed filling up your hole made it all the more pleasureful for you. Unplugging his cock from your hole, his cum drips down onto the bed but the both of you couldn't care less in this moment. Lost in each other.

After a moment of silence and rest, Vaelius was the first to speak, "how was it?", "...well it was my first time so—"You're a virgin??", "...", you gave no further comment, regretting ever letting those words out your mouth. This makes Vaelius laugh and blush, knowing he was your first love and the one who took your virginity, "then...I'll make sure your body gets so used to my cock that nobody else's can satisfy your needs, I've got to make a good first impression for you", he throws himself onto you, wrapping his arms from behind you as you face the other way, "just a warning though, I have many needs and wont stop once I start"

And oh boy was that true.

Not even a month later, and he's already bending you over the table. The official meeting table. With nobles around the both of you as he took the farthest and tallest seat. Well, at this very moment, he' standing as he as his cock all the way inside of you. Your face buried in your arms, not wanting to face the tense nobles. Some are even turned on by the sight of you getting dominated infront of them. But, if any of them stared at you for too long, two glades would come flying towards their eyeballs. Afterall, the only one who should stare at you is Vaelius. "Regarding these problems, whose idea was it?", despite his cock being warmed by you, his personality was far from it. He was cold by nature, only warm towards you. You breathe heavily, embarrassed to be seen like this. The once crown prince, heir to the Aldoria Kingdom is now being bent over by the Emperor Vaelius, full of cock as the man towering over you holds important papers, dicussing as if he's not all the way inside you right now. "I-it was mine, your majesty", Vaelius lets out a dissapointed sigh, even you knew what this meant.

In an instant, he sits down on his seat, bringing you with him. This makes his dick sink even deeper into your hole, grazing your prostate ever so slightly that it makes your hole clench, making him grunt. He was clearly unhappy with the decisions the nobles made under his father's reign. With a hand on your hips, he moves you nack and forth, grinding on his cock. Vaelius somehow doesn't let out a sound that would make him seem weak infront of these powerful men but you do. You moan and writhe in his touch, his cock so deep inside and hitting your prostate so good. "What made you come up with such a stupid and revolting idea", even if you aren't able to see it, just by his voice, you could tell he had a sinister look on his face, looking down on the noblemen. "I-I apologize your majesty", you watch as thr powerful men infront of you scared out of their wits when face to face with Vaelius. Though, you didn't pay their reactions any attention as you were too busy focusing on Vaelius' big cock inside.

With his strong hand, he lifts you up until they can see his cock halfway in before pushing you back down on it, he repeats this over and over again. Some of the noblemen got hard but dared not to touch themselves, but especially to you. Less they had a torture wish. "...and you call yourselves powerful? Smart? Hah!", Vaelius lets out a sarcastic laugh, it was loud enough to make them all tremble. "Your majesty..we—", "Silence.", a single word and they all felt their bodies shivering. "Get out of my face. I'll give you all a week.", they knew what he meant by this, he was goving them mercy. All of them got up, synchronized, bowing and thanking the emperor for his mercy before scurrying out the door.

This leaves you alone with the angry emperor. You wondered what would happen to you. Of course, you should have expected to be fucked dumb. Vaelius knew how to hit your prostate just right to get you screaming and slobbering over his cock. He drops the papers on the ground as of they're useless to him and holds your hips instead. You're turned around to face him and your arms wrap around his neck, "your expression...so cute", you weren't given a chance to respond, as if you could in your condition. He lifted you up and down on his cock extra rough. Those noblemen pissed him off and you're the only person who can calm him down. Using your hole. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the entire room. Even as it's air conditioned, the two of you sweat due to the intensity of it. Your prostate was basically being abused at this point, you couldn't think of anything but his cock, your brain all mushy now because of it.

Even as you came, he still continued his rough thrusts. Making you feel even more stimulated due to how sensitive you are after coming. "Take all of my cum inside, [Name], take it all..!", he says before coming inside you. Your head resting on his chest as he hold your waist. After a few minutes, he pulls out and helps you stand before bending you over the desk once more. "I love you [Name], please take all of me", in his eyes, the look of love and lust combined. The young boy, of whom you had once found annoying, has now become the man you despise. The one you wanted to rid the world of. Yet as fate foresaw it, he now stands as the dangerous emperor who has forcibly stolen your heart. But will you let him have it?

Took two months but here it is yall (Im so sorry😞)

[allllium]

Jason Todd x childhood friend fem

fluff and potential angst

Jason runs into childhood friend from befor he died and she recognizes him

Back in Time

[ Jason Todd x Childhood Best Friend!Reader ]

~ Fluff, Maybe a little hurt/comfort, WC: 1,089

~ I'm so sorry this took so long 😭 Every time I went to write this it's like all ideas flew out of my head, but I finally got it done and I hope it meets your expectations<3

"Jason?"

He freezes.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice today.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice ever again.

Once he came back, you were gone.

He would say he tried to look for you but that isn't true. He thought your leaving was the universe telling him to leave you alone.

But now you're here. You're here and you recognize him. He doesn't know how to respond. He knows you know he heard you, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped moving.

The first thing he hears in your voice is the sadness. Not anger like he would've expected. Not even a hint of confusion. Just something sad.

After a minute of him being unmoving, clearly lost in his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Jason." You say.

This time it's not a question.

After he hears you a second time, he brings himself to turn around and look at you.

"Hey."

"Hey." He can't tell if you're about to cry or smile.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologizes. Maybe for leaving or maybe for not finding you. He's not quite sure.

"For what?" You ask and take a deep breath.

He sees the way tears form in your eyes and has the strange urge to cry himself.

"I don't know. I just feel like I need to."

"You don't. Dick told me what happened. That's not something you need to be sorry for." You say it so surely he doesn't know how to respond.

"I was gonna find you."

"That's not your job. I mean a phone call would've been nice." You shrug and let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"I didn't know what to do." He tells you quietly.

"I would assume." You look around the sidewalk you're on. You're standing in front of what looks like a busy shop, people walk in and out every couple seconds.

"Where did you go?" He asks you after a moment. Probably to determine whether or not he could've found you.

"I was here. I mean I stayed in Gotham just not where I was before."

"If I had known you were so close I would've gone to you but when they told you left I assumed-"

"Jason, you don't have to defend yourself." You cut him off quickly, "If I died and came back the last thing on my list would be finding someone who left."

He nods. "This might be easier if you were at least a little mad." He smiles softly at you, watching more tears shine in your eyes.

"I missed you too much to be mad right now."

He goes to say something back but someone walking by bumps into your shoulder.

"Maybe we should get coffee or something?" He suggests, not wanting to keep blocking the sidewalk traffic.

"Are you free?"

"Oh yeah, yeah." Dick can wait, he thinks to himself.

"Then yeah, coffee sounds great."

You both walk into the coffee shop and order whatever drinks sound good. Jason chooses a table against the wall and by a giant window.

You sit awkwardly in silence as you both try and think of what to say.

"How are you doing?" You ask, after multiple minutes of nothing.

"I'm okay, I think." He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. You take notice of his fingers tapping nervously along the side of the cup.

"That's good." You nod and sigh.

"How are you?"

"I've been better." You answer honestly. Your fingers also tap nervously along your cup.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is so weird."

You laugh at his words, "I do. It's been a while."

"And I'm guessing we've both changed." He smiles.

"Changed? No shit Jason, look at you." You smile at him in a reassuring way. You can clearly see how dying has changed him.

"Yeah I guess I did get a little taller." He jokes and shakes his head.

"Maybe just an inch or two." You play along, laughing as you speak.

"I missed this. I missed you." He tells you with a sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Well good thing it isn't going away this time." You reach across the table and grab his hand.

It was never unusual for you and Jason to be touchy. That's just the kinda friendship you had. But this feels different.

Instead of being a friendly touch between best friends, it's more like a reassurance that's he's actually alive. A piece of you feels relief that you're not imagining this.

"I really hope so." He wishes with a frown.

"It won't. If you think I'm leaving your side anytime soon you're very very wrong."

"What's one more person to the gang that follows me everywhere?" He laughs again and squeezes your hand. It's the first time he's felt so free to last in a while.

"Where is that gang by the way? I would've expected one of them to be here by now."

"Oh I left while they weren't looking. I needed time to myself."

"You snuck out? Jason, they're probably panicking." You scold him softly.

"It's fine I'm meeting with Dick later."

You shake your head in disapproval but a smile on your face gives you away once again.

For some reason no matter how sad you are, a smile can't leave your lips.

You fall back into a silence but this time it's not awkward at all. It's a comfortable silence that reminds you of old times.

"I should probably get going. Dick will be pissed if I'm late."

"Yeah I don't doubt it." You recall the many times Dick has given long lectures about being late to anything he's involved in.

"I'll call you." He swears, standing up from his seat at the table.

"You better. I know where to find you." You stand up as well and finish off your drink.

"Yes you do." He agrees but doesn't leave.

You stand together in front of your table. Both of you are waiting for the other to move first.

Just as you're about to make the move to leave he steps forward and pulls you into a hug.

You immediately hug back and feel the tears reappear in your eyes.

"I really missed you." He whispers.

"I really missed you too." You whisper back.

You savor every moment of the embrace. Not wanting to leave out of fear that he would leave again.

But as you watch him walk away to meet with his brother, you're overcome with the happiness of knowing your best friend is here.

[curtins]

GREEDY — gojo satoru minors dni

prologue. → pretty, prodigal, and teasing. how far can you push your former teacher before he snaps? gojo's about this 🤏 close from releasing a hollow purple on the world.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. màstúrbation (m.) and rough sèx, creaḿpie. some angst/doubt. angsty love confession before gojo póunds reader into the mattress. incorrect use of reversed curse technique. arguments and stuff. description of injuries. def mean!gojo a bit and he's got vampire tendencies.

reader is of legal age (implied to be 19-20) and gojo is 28 so age gap!romance. obsessed!gojo and popular girl!reader trope. gojo is absolutely a mess in this, and reader is described as wearing short skirts, and wearing makeup.

rather questionable ethics and dynamics (teacher/former student) but rest assured its clear that his feelings are pretty recent. reader has him twirled and whipped around her fingers. reader is also def a baddie and ambiguously bi.

word count. 8.7k words im mad actually. this was meant to be headcanons song inspiration. greedy — tate mcrae

a/n. this is was gonna be from reader's pov but i thought it would be more fun from gojo's 🙂‍↔️

mp3. i see you eyeing me down, but you'll never know much past my name. or how i'm running this room, but i'm still half your age. yeah, you're looking at me like i'm some sweet escape 😛

gojo satoru was not a weak man, no. he knew that he was an anomaly of nature, an unstoppable power that could reduce enemies to dust and make entire clans crumble with nothing more than a flick of his wrists.

so how was it, that when it came to you, his resolve was paper-thin?

every time your open gaze met his, every time you brushed past him, every time your presence filled the space around his infinity, gojo felt something inside him unravel. his breath would be caught in his chest, leaving his pulse to quicken and suddenly, all that strength and control would slip through his fingers.

gojo cursed himself for this, you see. he had never been one to lose control, but he was not quite sure when his entire body has started to betray him.

but no, fuck that, and he did his utter best to run his focus back onto the lesson at hand. unfortunately, the lesson at hand was with you. standing in front of him, arms slightly raised, palms out, and raising your brow as boredom passed over your face.

gojo cleared his throat, "your stance is good, but your cursed energy is all over the place. focus, breathe. centre yourself is what i'm saying," he instructed, but the words felt hollow as they passed through his lips.

unfairly, you're weren't the problem. he was. and now this was getting ridiculous. you had graduated not two, three years past? it would have been a disservice to still call you his student, but even as a mentee, you were still under his tutelage. and as recent as this immature infatuation was, this felt wrong.

but now you were frowning, starting to waver and the sharp, staccato tap of your heeled boot punctuated the wooden floor, click, click!

gojo looked to the sky, briefly, if to pray for patience and a calm of some sorts. he stepped forwards towards you, placing a hand on your waist to guide you into a better stance, and trying to ignore the way your skin felt warm underneath his fingers.

focus.

"don't let your body twist like that when you utilise your own cursed energy. keep it straight, balanced," he muttered, adjusting your posture slightly, hand on your spine — the heel of his palm pressing into a dent. a deity from the sky must have struck him with a cursed arrow, for his whole body was on fire.

because there you were, standing right in front of him, so close that gojo could feel the soft heat of your breath, the faint scent of a sweet perfume wafting off your skin, vanilla?

"you're not focused," gojo grimaced, though he wasn't sure if the rebuke was at himself, or at you — whose eyes widened briefly, and gojo tried not to recognise the curiosity and challenge that flashed across your face.

look at how she's staring at me. and gojo felt utterly ridiculous, and exposed, she knows. but instead of pulling away, you shifted ever so slightly towards him, your body arching as the barest brush of your breasts against his forearm had heat pulling through his body.

would you taste as sweet as you smelt? would you lean more into him if he asked?

he cleared his throat, "okay. relax, not every stance or position works for an individual. perhaps, you'll be able to focus better like this," and with his hand still on your waist, he pulled you into a swift spin. one that left your back pressed against the hard planes of the chest, and you facing the other wall.

you hummed, this time not in the way he wanted. your lips were lightly parted, and there was that soft sheen of gloss catching the light, making your lips look impossibly soft. gojo caught himself staring, wandering what it would be like to press his own mouth to yours, and whether you would squeal or moan.

still, if there was anything that gojo was good at, it was deflecting like a champ, "i think you're distracted," he laughed, low and amused, "is something making you lose focus?"

you tilted your head, and gojo didn't miss (nor did his heart or groin) that your gaze flickered to his mouth for the briefest second before meeting his eyes again, feigning innocence, "don't tell me you're underestimating me, sensei. because i'd hate to think you can't keep up?"

gojo bit back a grin at the obvious bait, "careful," brushing strands of white hair that had fallen into his face away, "if you get too cocky, you tend to miss danger. you start to ignore things that should be noticed."

your voice dropped to a droll whisper, eyes glinting, "you think i don't notice things? i'm aware of plenty."

gojo forced himself to focus, to ignore the way that your lashes flutter with unshakable composure. trying to regain control, or some semblance of mind, he started counting each individual lash painted dark with mascara, lingering on the outermost curls that framed your sharp eyes.

after a beat, he forced himself to break eye contact, "alright," he said, stepping back with a casual shrug that he hoped conveyed just how nonchalant he was, "we’ll call it a day here and continue training tomorrow."

"backing out already?" you teased, leaning in just a little, making him tense at the closeness.

gojo chuckled, feigning nonchalance. "for your sake. you may be powerful, but you have to pace yourself."

you shrugged, nodding, "i'm going out anyway this evening," you said, hopping back a step before bending down to gather your things. gojo politely averted his gaze, his heart hammering from your previous proximity, and desperately hoping to avoid a...reaction, that would be quite inconvenient, as wide and loose as his martial pants were. like a fuckin' school boy with a crush. gross.

but as you slung your pastel bag over your shoulder and straightened up, he couldn't help a quick glance, catching the small, coy glimmer in your eyes as you turned to leave.

gojo sighed, pulling up his blindfold once more, "have fun," he half-heartedly offered, but you were already out the door.

the corridors were now empty, the clang of metal and chatter now silent, replaced with a quiet hum of the air conditioning. gojo wiped his face with the towel wrapped around his neck, the damp fabric clinging to his skin and the muscles in his arms and chest still warm from the intensity of training. his arms and chest glistened, the muscles warm and taut as he stretched, rolling his shoulders back with a low groan. exhaustion settled into him like a weight, each movement of his tired, bare torso slow and deliberate.

"oh, you're still here, sensei?"

gojo's eyes snapped open, drawn to the sound of your inquisitive voice. you stood in the doorway, framed by the dim light from the hallway, and he immediately felt a rush of heat flood his chest.

well, fuck, now his mouth was dry. clearly, your previous iteration of 'going out' was a bit more glamorous than you had led on, and he was certain his wandering eyes betrayed him as it flickered over your figure. it took a titan's strength to keep his eyes from trailing down your long legs, the way your dress hugged the swell of your chest, or over your glistening neck. there was a faint shimmer, a glitter of some sort? it coated your skin, and gojo wanted to lick it off with his tongue.

what? no. who said that?

he swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his composure.

you scowled at his reaction, clearly mistaking his silence for distaste. "what? i did say i was going somewhere," you retorted, your tone sharp but amused. "i’m more than allowed to leave the campus grounds.”

"of course,” he replied, voice outstandingly steady but his mind still trailing after every curve, every detail that made you look...well...dangerous in the best way, "don't let me stop you. who's the lucky guy?"

you arched a brow, folding your arms over your chest, and now, gojo really did have to look away and pretend that he was busy with retying a dark piece of cloth over his eyes, "who said it was a guy?"

gojo thickly swallowed, wondering if he'd just made a colossal blunder with no return, "that's not what i meant." the words 'my bad' stuck in his throat as you laughed and sighed.

"joking, sorry. it's a guy, this time." now you were fiddling with your long nails, with a satisfying clack as they ran across each other.

"i hope he shows you a great time then," he offered, half-hearted, blasé.

you took a step into the room, and gojo didn't even need six eyes to know that your eyes were raking over his chest, "i'm sure he will," all sweetness and sugar, "i've been training so hard, i deserve it, don't i?"

the words hit him harder than he expected, and he had to remind himself — she's not yours, satoru. but that didn't stop the gruff irritation bubbling up.

"a real man should be taking you out on a date like this,” he said, his voice a bit too rough for his liking. "not some guy who’s probably just looking for a good time."

you scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. "are you saying that there's someone else out there who can do a better job?" your tone was playful, but there was a challenge in it — an edge that made his heart skip once more, "sadly, there just aren't many who've handled me well."

he ignored your immature, faux pout, and ran a hand through damp, icy hair — ignoring how his temper flared, rearing its ugly head.

was this all on purpose? to toy with him?

"you want to be handled, sweetheart?" gojo's voice dropped a little lower, indulging your teasing, "i've seen you lose focus easily, you could easily break."

your lips creased up, painted a tempting shade of dried-blood red (what the fuck was wrong with him? was he now just a horny vampire?) as you purred, "i'd need some help testing out that theory." your expression was open just enough for him to see the tiniest flicker of something in your eyes — something that told him you were enjoying this far more than you should.

an invitation of sorts, he wondered. did you want him to move? to make a move? it wasn’t a secret that you had always been a popular student practically a legend, rumours swirling around you like wildfire — whispers of broken hearts and sweetened smiles that could captivate anyone in your path. he had never paid attention of course, gossip always ran wild among students and he discouraged such whispers of who-did-what, for a grade 1 curse would never indulge such behaviour before they would get torn to shreds.

and even now, long after graduation as you worked around your old alma mater, men and women — everyone swooned at the chance to speak with you, and yet, here you were, playing this dangerous game with him.

gojo scowled, trying to push past the desire building inside him, the urge to have you underneath him, right on this mat in the training room. "well, don’t hang around too long," he said, his tone sharp as a blade. "i’m sure your date is waiting. go have a good time."

invitation declined. the morally right thing to do. right?

he didn’t need to look to see the small sneer that curled at the corner of your lips, or the way it turned into a fleeting expression of annoyance. he could hear the click of your heels echo down the hallway as you sashayed out.

what the everlasting fuck was wrong with him?

lo and behold, the great gojo satoru often found himself alone in his own private rooms. for 'the strongest' rarely had time to accommodate some other forms of company.

and frankly, he had no desire to do so now regardless. not when the echoes of your clicking heels still reverberated in his mind. the silence that echoed around him was heavy, suffocating and he was sure he looked erratic.

gojo ran a hand over his face, trying to shake the thought of you. but it was useless. his body was still on fire, the heat of jealousy smouldering in his chest, coiling in his gut like something alive, something dangerous. he had walked to the nearest chair and collapsed into it, his legs splayed wide apart as his shoulders slumped under the soft, amber glow of the setting sun that streamed through the windows. the sorcerer let his head fall back against the chair, eyes closed.

how absolutely ridiculous, he thought, running his fingers through his tousled hair. no, he just couldn't stop it. couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted you. wanted you to want him too. and now, with the way you’d left, with that knowing smile on your lips, all he could imagine was the man you were with now, the man who’d be holding the door open for you, who’d be pulling out your chair, whoever the hell he was.

maybe even a casual, non-sorcerer. some random guy that you had indulged because he was no threat. but he wouldn't be able to touch you, not in the way that you demanded. the man would laugh at your jokes, brush his hand against yours, but wouldn't be able to let a real smile bubble from your lips like satoru could.

and what would that man do next?

would he try to take you back to his place? some small poorly-lit apartment where he'd try to kiss you, to claim your lips without even pulling away for air. would you kiss him back, curling into his frame?

before gojo's even registered what he's doing, his own hand has found his hard cock. despite the tattle of assistance, and dreamy-eyed mongers, pleasure is rare for him. relief, even less so. his schedule just doesn't allow it, and so he oft find himself chasing some distant contentment like this, alone in his rooms.

but he squeezes at the wide hilt, at his base, pulling his hands up, upwards as his brows furrow under blindfold, and he tugs the offending fabric off, away from him, as laden balls smack against his wrist.

maybe the man would then trail his lips down your neck, maybe he'd try to slowly sink his teeth into delicate flesh, leaving blooming purple marks that wouldn't fade, not when gojo saw you tomorrow.

he's running his curled hand up towards the fat mushroom tip, almost glowing pink with heat and pre-cum that's leaving his hand slicked with faint moisture, "shit, that's it."

then what? he can imagine your teasing smile as you decide to take your pleasure as you see fit. how you'd suddenly push this faceless man off, and move so you're straddling him, letting his hands wander around the curve of your hips, digging into plush flesh.

now he's starting to pant, open-mouthed, "ah - fuck! wish i had you here, right here." gojo must be a madman, breathing out to the empty, open air.

but in his mind's eye, you're reaching behind your back to undo the zipper on your outstandingly tight dress, giving the faceless man a coy smile as you push the fabric of your dress down, letting your plentiful tits spill out and against the man's chest.

his wrist is moving faster now, and there's a cramp starting to build up as he pistons his hand over his stretched shaft, and one arm is thrown over his face — the soft hairs on his thick forearm tickling his face as he tries not to gasp or whine too loudly, but he's bucking his ups now, pretending that it's not his hand that he's spilling into, but your tight cunt. and later, he shudders and tenses up, with apologies whispered into the air, "look, look - shit, i'm sorry - i'm sorry. couldn't help it, fuck." and gojo's bitten his lips so hard that he's certain he's drawn blood, vibrant red blooming on pale, creamy skin.

and a lamp had exploded as he came. damn, he'd have to replace that.

you don't deserve someone like him, no. not when he's sitting here, absolutely filthy with thick, white seed entirely over his tense abdominal muscles and stiff hand. not when he's trying to catch his breath after imagining how snug your pussy would feel around him, and how you'd beg for him to give it to you harder.

you didn't deserve someone so messed up with guilt, with mistakes, with the kind of weight that made him too much for anyone, let alone someone like you. didn't you deserve better than a tortured man who couldn't control himself, better than an overzealous mentor who was supposed to keep his distance, to do what was right.

but that didn’t stop his thoughts from swirling, as he separated damp, thick thighs from the smooth surface of the chair, reaching for a tissue. he couldn’t help it. and it made him feel like a damn fool.

the meeting room buzzed with tension, voices rising in sharp, clipped exchanges — some angry, some demanding and others clueless and questioning. gojo had woken up in a foul mood that morning, with some ill-gotten storm brewing beneath his chest. perhaps it was the thoughts of you that lingered from the night before, a gnawing jealously that left him feeling too tight in the stiffness of the uniform dress pants.

but he had forced himself to be dragged through this meeting, plastering a snarky light-hearted grin over his face as he leaned against the wall, letting the higher-ups argue themselves into oblivion.

amidst the storm of words, gojo's focus was nowhere near the mission being discussed. no, his attention was fixated entirely on you. you stood at the far end of the table, eyes flashing with ire as you tore into some pompous old fool who’d dared question your power. the others in the room shifted uncomfortably, deferring to you, as they often did, despite your youth. you had that rare combination of presence and bite that made people recoil back when you sunk your teeth into them, and this was not a knot gojo was interested in unraveling.

kojiro, one of the bumbling administrators, had turned his babbling attention to gojo, "you're still planning to face that curse head-on, gojo-san?" the poor man is wringing his hands at gojo's flat look (made all the more unreadable through a blindfold, satoru would wager), "don't you think it would be well - unwise? instead of expending your time and energy on one cursed spirit, you could handle five lesser ones. efficiency, you see."

gojo's gaze briefly flickers back to you, standing with your arms crossed as one hand fiddles with the end of your braid as your petal-pink lips scowl at some other official with words that don't fit his stature. your other hands keeps reaching around your neck, adjusting a plaid scarf over and over, like you're desparate to hide something under the fabric . well, fuck that.

"i'm aware of the risks," gojo turns his attention back to the matter, "but no one here has time for hesitation. if the curse is special grade, don't you at least think that delaying with lead to more destruction?"

"is it really the cursed spirit you’re worried about, takumi-san?" you asked, your voice low, the kind of voice that could make someone forget their own name.

gojo's gaze snapped to you from under the blindfold, but you weren’t looking at him, not even speaking at him. instead, you were locking eyes with one of the other sorcerers — takumi, a grade two with a shaggy mop of golden hair, one who had been a student alongside you and hardly subtle in his admiration for you.

gojo tries to hide a scoff at how takumi's eyes are wandering over you, ignoring the newpapers that have been flattened on the meeting table, with bold inked letters reading doom-portents such as 'unexplained explosion, 4 dead and 12 injured."

time and place, man.

"you don't think i can handle this mission. if you're worried about me, just say so," takumi's now leaning into you, even as gojo tries to train his ear on kojiro's economic-obsessed babble instead.

gojo can see your eyes flicker to the dastardly newspapers as well, clearly curling your lips at the dour news and takami's disastrous attempt at getting his hands under your skirt. but he also knows that sharp glint in your eyes, the one when you toy with those around you, to pull them in without ever committing to anything. clearly, you've decided to indulge this game.

"takumi," and you draw out the younger man's name, "shouldn't you bring more strength to the table? of course, i'm worried about a friend getting hurt. but even if you were stronger, or the strongest, a special grade curse could do some real damage."

and your eyes have flicked right towards gojo, raking over his frame leaning against the pale cream walls. he's glad for the blindfold, so you can't see how he scowls and furrows his thin brows at you, at your blatant hopes for a reaction from him. were you so unobservant that you did not know how much you bothered him?

the pointed sharpness in your words made takumi pause, and for just a moment, gojo could see the man’s grin falter. it was clear that you weren’t impressed by his attention, you had no need for his slimy attempts.

there was no mistake about it — this wasn’t just a flirtation. this was a game you played, and gojo was not only aware of it; he was caught in it. he tries not to feel irrationally angry, fuck, so much of his life revolves around his work, his job and now he can't even do that properly without feeling like you're using your long nails to dangle something in front of him, wanting to snap his teeth out and snatch it.

so you wanted him to see this. you wanted to claim that you could unravel the strongest sorcerer from the heavens to the earth below, to make him lose his composure. gojo feels as if there is crackling ozone in the air, and wonders dimly if the weather forecast predicted a rain storm for later today.

takumi, sensing the shift, finally backed off with a huff, but not before giving all around him a lingering look, as if it was their fault that you weren't interested.

"enough distractions," kojiro's interjected, raking a finger through a beard streaked with gray, and he's shooting a pointed look at you, snapping rose-pink gum, and takumi, shuffling with his hands in his pockets. "we're here to discuss the mission, not flirt." and then, he's off mumbling something about how this was why he hated having younger sorcerers join the meeting rooms.

his ire only grew. gojo stood with his back against the wall, outside the meeting room, once everyone had left with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. you stood in front of him, your eyes flashing with anger, your chest rising and falling with each sharp breath.

"absolutely not," gojo stood his ground firmly, "no-one will let you go on this mission."

you stomped on the floor, once as your heels snapped an echo, "they will if you say so."

gojo stuffs his hands in his pockets, "who said that i would also allow you?"

you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest, mimicking his previous stance but with a clear defiance in your posture. "and why the hell not? i'm more than capable of handling it. it's my fucking choice, and how can extra help hurt?"

"enough!" gojo snapped, feeling a tense pain in between his eyes, "it's too dangerous. and you're too young -"

"too young!" you've interrupted him, "i'm not some helpless child, sensei. i'm a grade 1 sorcerer! one of the best, i don't need to be treated like i can't handle a mission."

"grade 1. not special-grade."

his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. gojo could see the fury in your eyes, but there was something else there, something deeper, a vulnerability that he had seen before in students, some desire to prove themselves and be heaped with praise. he knew you were good, better than most — hell, better than many of the adults he’d seen. but this cursed spirit was unlike anything you’d faced before. and yet, here you were, challenging him, pushing him, daring him to stop you.

"you don’t get it," he muttered, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. "you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. you're too reckless."

"reckless!" now you had taken a step towards him, narrowing the space between you both. your eyes were fierce now, but there was something else in them — a spark of hurt that made his chest tighten, and gojo began to wander where this would start spiral. "i’m not reckless. i know exactly what i’m doing. the only reckless thing here is you thinking you have the right to control my every move."

"i'm the one in charge here," he said, his voice hoarse, the words coming out sharper than he intended. "and i'm telling you now, you’re not going. you’re not ready for this. don't involve the higher-ups in this."

you were so close now, just inches apart. his eyes flicked to your lips, with the arch of a blooming flower kissed by the sun, for a brief moment, and then back up to your face, where anger and frustration mixed with something else — a challenge.

"maybe that’s the problem," you said, your voice quieter now, but still holding an edge. "you think i'm still some child who needs you to tell me what to do. maybe you just don’t want me to outshine you."

the words are ridiculous, and he can see by the mild quiver as your throat bobs that you don't mean what you say. it takes a rare type of courage to tell the first person in four hundred years to be born with limitless and six eyes, that he could be outshined. but satoru doesn't say a word to rebuke your obvious and false bait.

your body is so close now that gojo could feel the heat of your skin, your breath brushing against his. he could smell the faint sweetness of vanilla again in the air mingled with fresh, crisp apples, could see the subtle shine of your lip gloss catching the light. it was a testament to his spirit, he thinks, that he did not lean in straight away and touch his mouth to yours in this scenario that certainly did not warrant it.

"you want me to stop you that badly?" he hissed, his voice a mix of frustration and something darker, that had not yet snapped. "is that what this is? a game? a way for you to get my attention? to see how far you can push me before i do snap?"

now he's got your tongue, and your expression has flickered for a brief moment before schooling into an impassive mask, and gojo briefly wanders if he's crossed an awful line and misinterpreted everything. if they're gonna stick a white dunce hat on his head and parade him through the streets of outer tokyo for being an assuming fool.

but then you've stepped even closer, your breath coming faster, the weight of your chest almost pressed against his, and gojo doesn't move and he's briefly aware that he's let his infinity down.

"partly, you know it's not just about you though. i do want to go on this mission, but -" you tilt your head and look right up at him, and the older man's head starts to reel from the fact that he was right all along, "i do want to see how far you can go before you snap."

his heart pounded, and for a moment, everything went still. all the tension, all the heat, the anger, and the desire — everything seemed to converge in the space between you. gojo's hand twitched, aching to touch you, but he held himself back, his muscles straining with the effort.

"stop,” he rasped, barely able to get the word out. "you don’t know what you’re doing, or what you're asking for."

he's never felt quite like this before, breathless as if the air has been punched out of his lungs. all gojo could think was how much he wanted to pull you closer, to kiss you until there was nothing left between you.

but he couldn’t.

he puts his hands on your shoulders, fingers digging into the expensive fabric of your top, and gently pushes you away.

"my decision is final. don't make this harder than this, you're forbidden from the mission."

how sick and twisted, that you've fled with embarrassed tears pricking at your eyes, and he's stuck with a raging erection.

well, he had seen worse. but it didn't make this curse any less vicious. it was ancient, he could presume, and maddening. its cursed energy was warping the night air like a violent storm. but again, not the worst thing that he had encountered in his twenty-eight years, and with the right timing, he'd been able to calculate every strike and counter.

but then he saw you.

at first, he thought it was a blur — a trick of the light. but then, there you were, standing at the edge of the pavement, your figure framed by the chaotic crackle of cursed energy. fuck your stubborn nature.

this is not what is meant to happen. gojo's heart has skipped a beat, and he's not sure what he's more furious with. you, for defying his concern for your safety. or himself, for getting so distracted in. a battle.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?"

yes, he knows you're good. good enough to move with precision against a special-grade curse, your stance instantly and suspiciously better than the other day in the training rooms. it's only through his six eyes that gojo has been able to keep a track of your movements as your jujutsu is able to dodge the creature's brutal force.

impressive. but reckless.

and that never lasts.

you had moved to cast your own cursed technique, but the curse was intelligent enough to anticipate it. with a sudden lash of its tail, the creature swung its power straight at you, knocking you off balance. you stumbled, your footing lost, and before you could react, a flash of dark energy slicing across your shoulder.

a scream had torn from your lips as you fell to the ground, blood spurting from the deep cut.

and briefly, just for a flicker of time, gojo sees a dark-haired man in violet robes leaning against a brick wall, with his shoulder torn off, 'at least curse me one last time.'

blood rushing in his ears, before he even realised it, he was on top of you, his body hovering over yours, his jujutsu flaring as he shoved the cursed spirit back with a brutal force that made the earth tremble, an exorcism that will not take long. he kneeled beside you, his breath ragged, eyes locked on the wound on your shoulder. the blood was already soaking your clothes, darkening the fabric as you winced, your breath shallow and unsteady.

"you —” gojo isn't sure if his hand isn't shaking from how irate he is, "what the hell were you thinking? fuck, don't move."

your eyes were unfocused for a moment, but when they snapped to him, there was defiance there — even in this moment (get a grip!), as you gritted your teeth against the pain.

"save it, it's fine," you spat, your voice weak but vexed, "that bitch is still there."

"what did i tell you! what did i say would happen?" he cursed under his breath, focusing his reversed cursed technique as he tried to heal you, but the moment felt like an eternity as bright red blood moved too fast for him to seize it.

an assassin's blade in his throat, his arteries giving way and bubbling out and up.

now you don't answer, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. gojo's gaze darted to the cursed spirit, which was now advancing again, enraged by the interruption.

it won’t touch you again.

he stood, pulling you away from him, your body slumping slightly out of his arms. he could feel the heat of your blood soaking through his sleeve, but he had no time to dwell on it. the curse roared in fury, and gojo's infinity flared up around him again, a shield of pure energy blocking its path.

"stay down,” he growled, and all he received was a weak, "fuck, you think that's funny?"

it's only later when he's pulling you back up, that he realises that his reversed cursed energy has done enough to stem the bleeding, but not enough to leave you unharmed as your breath is shallow, your face taking on a more sickly pallor.

"don’t you ever — ever —do that again," he snarled, his voice raw and he wonders when something (or someone) has ever undone him so much. but the anger in his voice doesn't carry to his touch as he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, tracing the lines of your jaw.

the sterile walls of your room did nothing to soften the tension in gojo's chest as he stood by your bed, his eyes tracing the curve of your sullen form beneath the sheets. your shoulder was bandaged, with red seeping slowly through the white strips.

"you really are unbelievable," he snapped, his voice sharp as he paced around the room, every step heavy with frustration. "i told you it was too dangerous. i told you not to fucking go."

you lay there, your eyes half-closed, as though you weren’t even listening, but the twitching frown on your lips is sign enough that you're not as sorry. his fingers flexed at his sides, itching to do something — anything — to release the tension building in him.

"are you even listening to me?" he know he sounds bitter, over-reactionary, angry as he moved towards the edge of your bed.

you blinked slowly, your gaze still infuriatingly calm, "i'm fine, now. save the lecture."

he doesn't want to start sputtering so he settles for crossing his arms over his chest, but your voice breaks the silence again.

"you know i want to be a special grade sorcerer, right?"

gojo only looks down, not wanting to indulge an excuse and he studies the tight grip of his knuckles on his slender fingers, "well, i don't know why. the pay isn't that good." it's a weak attempt at a joke, but you're smiling.

"i was told i could only become one if i was the one to exorcise that special grade."

"by who? the higher-ups?" and you nod, wincing as you do.

what a fucking surprise. the way that the jujutsu world works is no surprise to gojo by now, having been surrounded by it his entire life. but the harshness of their reality still shocks him, old and doddering officials who cling to their silk robes are prone to sending out younger sorcerers (those who are still green, barely out of school) to do their dirty work for them, and the cemetery outside of jujutsu tech is ever growing.

he ground his teeth together, his chest tightening as he stared down at you. the bandages, the damp skin, the stillness of your body — it made him want to tear something apart. "fine! if they were giving you a hard time, why didn't you just come to me then?" he repeated harshly.

"would you go ask someone to help you, for something like this? if you were asked to prove yourself?"

gojo runs his tongue behind his teeth, "i'm the strongest, princess. i don't need to ask for help."

you groan, turning your head away from him, but a faint smile dances upon your lips.

he inhales sharply, his fingers digging into the edge of the bed. "you think this is a joke?"

"all four limbs are attached and i'm living and breathing. okay, so fine. my bad. i won't do it again. will you stop snapping at me now, at everything -" and gojo wonders if there's really some hurt colouring your voice, "what's going on?"

the words slip out, rough and unrestrained. "what’s going on is that you’re driving me insane. you act like this doesn’t matter, like i can just stand by and let you throw yourself into danger like it’s nothing — like you don’t matter — but you do. you do matter."

his chest was heaving now, his hands shaking as he reached out and grabbed your wrist. his thumb brushed over your pulse, the tiny fluttering beneath your skin driving him wild. "i can’t — i can’t just stand there and watch you get hurt," he continued, his voice hoarse. "you don’t get to do whatever you want without consequences, damn it. you don’t get to make me feel this way, and then pretend like it doesn’t matter."

for a moment, there was silence. gojo's pulse was hammering in his ears, his body coiled with the intensity of everything he was trying to say. everything he was trying not to say. everything he wanted to act upon.

and then, with a slow, almost lazy smile, you turned towards him, "i didn't know the great gojo satoru was like this. who would have thought?"

his breath hitched in his throat. gojo wanted to say something, to snap at you again, to maintain that distance — but the truth was that the distance between the two of you had disappeared these past few weeks. his chest tightened, his hands trembling as they slid to your face, fingers tracing the line of your jaw, and he relished how your facade almost cracked and you lightly shivered.

at least, he hoped you were shivering because of his touch. and not, like, a fever building up from your injuries.

fuck it.

and then, before he could stop himself, gojo was leaning down, his lips crashing into yours with all the force he could muster, desparate and hungry and that frustration and fear that he had been holding onto. his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you towards him with a force that made your breath catch, as you responded with a soft gasp.

had he misstepped? no, for you kissed him back, tentatively at first, as if you were testing the waters, but then building up to a sudden urgency that mirrored his own. your hands slid to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pushed yourself closer to him, before crying out.

"ah! fuck, my shoulder."

small beads of blood surfaced where your collarbone met your shoulder, each one glistening like tiny rubies against your warm skin. they gathered slowly, delicate droplets that clung to you before tracing faint, uneven lines downward. the red stood out, vivid and fresh, dotting your skin in a stark, almost mesmorising gojo as they welled up and began to trick in thin, crimson trails.

"stay still," gojo rasped, his voice low and rough as he leaned in, pressing closer. his mouth met the fresh blood pooling on your skin, tongue tracing over the small rivulets that had seeped from beneath the bandage.

he lingered, almost savouring the taste, his eyes darkening as the sharp tang of iron lingered on his tongue, smacking his lips slightly as he drew back, gaze fixed intently on you, on your heavy breathing as he stole away another kiss from you.

gojo's lips left yours briefly, his breath ragged as he stared down at you, his eyes wild underneath the blindfold, gasping as your nails reached up to hook the fabric down so his hair loosened, falling around his face.

you were staring back at him, breathless and wide-eyed, and in that moment, gojo knew — he couldn’t stay away from you. no matter how much he tried.

your lips were soft, so soft, but there was fire behind the way you kissed him back, your hands landing on his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. he groaned, deep in his throat, and his fingers threaded into your hair, pulling you closer.

his mouth moved urgently over yours as he shifted to stand beside the bed, his body hovering over you, every muscle tense, straining with the desire that he had tried so hard to ignore. gojo just couldn't think about anything else.

and your lips broke apart only briefly, and you let out a soft laugh, that damn, dangerous laugh of yours. "you're greedy, you know that."

his chest heaved, and his heart pounded in his ears, and blood was now pounding to his nether regions. he wasn’t sure if it was the previous anger or the ache between his ribs, but he couldn’t stop himself as he threaded his fingers through your soft hair, "i am greedy. greedy for you. only you - mmph! shit!"

you had run your long, painted nails (with the little painted charms on the end) down his neck before pressing them, hard enough to cause a sharp sting.

"you wanted to put me through hell," he whispered harshly, and his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, "until i realised i liked it. until i realised i wanted you, all of you."

his hands moved down to your waist, squeezing gently as his lips found the tender spot beneath your ear, trailing kisses there, letting his teeth sink in, to see small bruises appear. gojo's breath was ragged as he fought to keep control, and something deeper inside of him roared with the need to claim you completely.

"you’re mine," he growled against your skin, the words hot and possessive. "i don't care what happens. you’re mine now."

you tilted your head, still smiling, but this time there was something different in your eyes — something that burned with the same intensity. "if i'm yours, what are you going to do about it? hmm, satoru?"

and that final thread, that last remnant of honour that he had been nurturing and holding onto, snapped.

"is this what you want, princess?" he draws out the nickname, letting it roll off his tongue, as you suddenly inhale sharply. his hands are all over you now, large hands exploring and kneading at your torso, and before he can even let you blink, they're under your top.

he's pressing his hot mouth to your sternum, wet and open-mouthed, and he wonders what sort of effect you have on him. what force in the world leave him panting like this, desparate as his hands find their way behind your back, to unclip whatever's holding your tits in place — just so he can reach back and run his palms over your hard nipples, flicking them and rolling them in between his fingers.

and faintly, in the back of his mind, he's aware that his reversed cursed technique must be working overtime, because suddenly you're rolling forward into him with no care in the world for your previously injured shoulder, as your own hands trail down the front of body, right over his bulge.

but he slaps your hand away, pressing you flat against the mattress, "fuck, not yet. you think i'm just going to let you get away with all this," and as you mewl a soft yes, followed by a please, he rolls his eyes, "wait. behave and i'll give you what you want."

and then, softer, "need to make sure you're ready first."

his arms are caging both sides of your head, and he's got one hand on the headboard (although, you will marvel at the burnt imprint that he's left, later) and the other is tearing your top off, just so he can lean down and let his canines press into the soft fat of your chest, so he can slip a pointed nipple into his mouth and tug it, ever so gently.

but gojo needs to continue lower, and his hand squeezes at the waistband of your short skirt, snapping the elastic twice as you heave your bare chest, "please, please, satoru!"

it's heaven down here for him, and gojo's dizzy at how outstandingly wet you are, with just a single swipe of his fingers in the soft, damp fabric of your underwear.

your clear, sticky arousal clung to his fingers, stretching in thin, glistening threads as he spread your thighs apart, knocking your knees to either side so he could slot himself in between them. your slick shimmered slightly under the light, translucent and tacky and he just couldn't help himself, bringing them up to his mouth to slowly taste.

"shit, princess. you taste so good, can't believe this is what i've been missing out on."

he's playing an instrument, he thinks. gliding his fingers along sodden folds, twirling his index finger past a thick wad of skin and pressing right over your clit in hot, tight circles that have you bucking your hips, "hnngh, right - ah, right there 'toru!"

'toru.

as a reward, he plunges his middle finger straight into your gaping heat, your tight wall of ringed muscles that had been fluttering in light pulses for his attention. fuck, he almost reaches his own climax by feeling how you squirm and writhe, moan and mewl as he starts pushing his finger in, and then out.

in, and then out. in, once more. and out, again. and then, another finger.

his fingers sank into your soft, damp pussy — which yielded easily enough with a soft pssh! as the digits pressed in. gojo pulled his hand back out from your thighs, enjoying the tight resistance and suction as your cunt has resisted being empty once more, leaving a cool moistness on his skin.

but now your hands gently cup his face, and he isn't sure how to not crumble with how you look at him, eyes wide and glossy, "wan' more, want your cock, 'toru."

now, gojo feels as though he's truly ascended, gone onto some higher plane of existence. because how can he resist when your hands are weakly pawing at his belt, at his waistband and he's letting you pull his thick shaft out.

it's hot, and already weeping angry tears of pre-cum, and he just loves how your eyes widen at the sheer size and girth.

"yeah, princess was sooo brave earlier, wasn't she? wanted my cock, ah! shit - did she?" and he's letting the wide tip lay heavy against your clit, knocking it once, and then twice, through your heavenly folds.

you've reached a leg up, and around his waist, pulling him closer and gojo has to pierce his lip with his teeth to not let out a gutteral groan from his cock sliding through the your folds, "i don't - don't care, i really don't fucking care if it's too big. just put it in now, m' so wet, i'm wet enough."

your babble is endearing, and he marvels at how easily he has you cock-drunk without even being in you right now. he jostles further, until the tip is right at your flittering entrance, pressing forward and slipping through the heated, slick gummy texture in a way that has the strongest's head spinning.

"easy, princess. oh fuck, you're too tight. way too tight, i'm gonna -" and gojo inhales, steadying himself, as the wet heat enveloped him as he moved, each slide through the soft walls of your pussy leaving him acutely aware of every inch, the warmth coating him further until your slick was dampening the white, stray hairs of his groin.

he pulls your lips close again, one hand coming up to gently cradle your head, and his fingers weaving slowly through your hair.

"you're so deep in me, 'toru! so - hnngh," and your words are cut off by a staccato thrust of his hips, and your teeth clack around a moan that gojo gladly swallows.

"hey, i'm right here. i've got you, yeah? got you so good, just hold onto me."

and he keeps a steady pace, plunging into molten silk, with a sensation so intense and so enveloping that it left him breathless, with a rush of heat that made his head spin.

he's toying with your tits, pressing his face into the shadow that lies between your mounds, and gojo's certain that he could die a happy man like this, exactly like this.

he realises that the faint laugh is coming from him, so distant is he in his pussy-drunk reverie, that he realises he must look and sound like a madman, "pretty pussy is so tight, so fucking tight. haah, i think i'm gonna have to fill you up, gorgeous?" and he must be blathering, "want me to fill you up? shit- want me to stuff... ah! stuff you so full of cum that we just hafta stay in this bed all day then?"

he had his fingers now moving in circles over your throbbing clit, exerting a gentle pressure that had you so beautifully keening and bucking your hips up, jolting right into his pelvis. and gojo bit back as a groan as his heavy balls started to smack, and smack! over and over again, right onto your dampened skin.

"she must be close right, pretty little pussy must be almost tired now," and gojo's now slapping your clit, lifting three fingers up and bringing them down with enough force to not harm you, but make you jolt, "she. must. be. so. close." and each word is punctuated by the slippery spank of his fingers bouncing right off your mound.

"makes me want to have you - you and her," and gojo's revelling in the slick of your pussy, now throwing his head back without shame.

and when your walls start to flutter, when you start writhing in his grasp, pressed right against his chest with your legs knocked back as far as they reach on other side of his broad frame, he feels himself unravel. feels the rhythmic quake of your tight cunt literally milk him dry, letting pools of thick, white seed plug within you, and he almost shakes and tears up himself, at the idea of claiming you like this.

later, he has you resting against his chest and the knot in his chest, that nasty plague that sent him afoul has disappeared, and gojo feels as though he's about to start purring, from the feeling of your nails trailing little shapes over his skin (little hearts, perhaps?) and how soft your hair feels under his own hands. he can't resist himself from pressing his lips softly to your forehead, "happy?"

you laugh, a genuine, soft sound that erupts from your chest as you press your bare body into him, "you have no idea."

[4linos]

breaking the silence

lee know x gn!reader

synopsis: after an argument that involves several tears and hurtful words, your boyfriend gives you the silent treatment.

wc: 2060 (,,> ᴗ <,,)

You had both had a long and tiring day, but it was the silence that had you awake, not the exhaustion. Since the argument earlier in the evening, there had been an unbearable, uncomfortable silence between you and Minho. Really, it had been a dumb approach. It was a small miscommunication that might have been cleared up in a few minutes. Instead, the words had come out of your lips quickly and harshly before you had a chance to think about them, and Minho had snapped, his face tensing in anger. You tried to explain and apologize right away, but he didn't listen. He had turned away without even looking at you, which was an obvious sign that he didn't want to speak with you.

Hours had gone by now, and the tension in the room was intolerable. Your pulse is racing and the knot of anxiety in your chest is getting tighter as you lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. Half expecting him to be there, you reached to his side of the bed, but the room was cold and empty. He was still on the couch. After a moment of hesitation during which you bit your lip, you got up and walked quietly into the living room. With his back to you, Minho sat on the couch and watched the TV without paying much attention. The distance between you two felt like an entire ocean, and his shoulders were stiff.

"Minho," you said softly, your voice tentative. “Please… can we talk?” He didn't answer. The ensuing silence was suffocating. As you waited with your heart pounding faster, he stayed motionless with his back to you and refusing to acknowledge you. In an attempt to calm yourself, you swallowed. "I’m sorry Minho. I didn't mean to upset you. "Look at me, please." Nothing. He didn't appear to have heard you at all. It felt almost like a physical barrier because of how heavy the silence was between you two. You tried "Minho…" once more, your voice hardly audible above a whisper, the words suddenly desperate. "I really apologize. Talk to me, please.”

Still nothing.

A part of you wanted to turn away, to give him the space he so obviously needed, to leave him alone. The other side of you, however, couldn't take it. You felt the weight of the unsaid words weighing down on your chest as the silence tore into you. You felt as though the silence was choking you. Gently resting your trembling hand on the back of the couch, you were almost touching him, but not quite. "Please, Minho. I don’t want to lose you. When you act like this, I'm not sure what to do.” You thought he may finally say something as his shoulders stiffened. But the words that came out of his mouth were quiet, icy, and far away.

Without even looking at you, he murmured, "I don't want to talk right now." His voice was flat, with a hint of concealed rage boiling beneath. The words hurt more than you thought they would. Tears threatened to spill out of your throat, but you fought them back. "Minho, I'm at a loss for what to do. I hate this. I hate the way you're ignoring me. Tell me what's wrong, please.” When his head finally turned, you could see that his eyes were filled with a mixture of hurt, frustration, and possibly a hint of disappointment.

He repeated, "I don't want to talk about it," this time with more firmness and a clenched jaw that made it clear he wasn't going to back down. "I don't feel like doing this at the moment. Leave me alone, please. It felt like a face-slap. Your breath caught in your throat as the hurt of his words sunk deep in your chest. You felt so tiny and unimportant all of a sudden, and the pain was unbearable. You said, your voice a mixture of despair and irritation, "You've been like this all night." "Will you please just let me in? Why are you afraid to just speak to me?”

After a while, Minho straightened his posture and kept his gaze fixed on the ground. "You don't understand, do you?" The bitterness in his voice pierced you like a knife, even though it was quieter now. "You're constantly trying to fix things and restore everything, but sometimes I simply need space. I don't require fixing. I don't need to hear your apologies again. All I need is time.” The tears you were suppressing burned in your eyes. "Minho, I'm not trying to fix you. I'm just… All I want to do is put things right. When you refuse to communicate with me, I'm at a loss on what to do. When you cut me off in this way...”

When his eyes finally met yours, he ran a hand through his hair in irritation, yet there was something cold about them that made your stomach churn. "It's not always your turn to fix things. I need time to reflect sometimes. I need you to leave me alone sometimes.” Your chest tightened under the weight of everything you were suppressing, and the intensity of his remarks caused your heart to shatter. He had never been this detached, so angry, and so unwilling to compromise with you. It seemed like he was getting farther away each time you attempted to close the distance.

You said, "I'm sorry," once more, your voice cracking under the pressure of everything. "Minho, I have no idea how to go about this. All I want is to comprehend. Please don't ignore me. He stayed silent for a long time, and the emptiness between you two felt like an endless ocean that you were unsure how to cross. Then he spoke again, softer but still unpleasant, in a voice that was hardly more than a whisper. He murmured, "I'm not trying to hurt you," as his eyes briefly met yours before averting them. “But, I'm not sure how to deal with this either. Right now, I'm not sure how to deal with *us*.”

You were left whirling by his quiet, raw words. Even though you were drowning in your own pain, you could sense it seeping from him. Your heart thumping in your chest, you took a step closer. "Please, Minho... I am not planning on leaving. Just don't ignore me. Together, we might resolve this.” He remained silent for quite some time. However, you stayed put. You stayed there, both of you trapped in the limbo of suffering and annoyance, close yet still far away. His hand hesitated as though it would have reached for you, but he stopped.

He sighed at last, his breath trembling, the weight of everything between you two bearing down on him. He made a tiny move, brushing your palm with his, but it was the most subdued apology he could offer. His voice was almost heard, but he was sincere when he said, "I'm sorry." "I just want some time. I'll talk with you when I'm ready. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you nodded. "All right. I'll hold off. Just don't be silent for too long. Minho didn't respond, but you could tell he hadn't actually cut you off—at least not entirely—by the glint of remorse in his eyes. Not forever.

Even if it passed for the time being, the silence between you lingered, serving as a reminder that sometimes the quiet that followed a fight was just as difficult.

—

It seemed like there had been no end to the silence between you and Minho. For days, the room felt heavy, and you both cautiously avoided each other, not knowing how to heal the rift that had developed. However, time was doing its silent magic, and gradually the barriers you had put up between each other started to come down.

It started with the small things.

You noticed that Minho was beginning to leave small signs of himself where he typically didn't. His jacket was carelessly placed on the chair's back, as though he had decided it didn't need to be neatly folded. His shoes kicked off at the door in a hurry, a sign that he was starting to feel like his own home again. Nevertheless, things didn't start to change until you were in the kitchen making coffee one morning. Minho came into the room quietly, his hair a little disheveled from sleep, and he was still dressed in pajama trousers. For a long time, he watched you from the doorframe, his face unreadable.

Although you both understood that the silence between you wouldn't last forever, you kept silent at first. You just continued doing what you were doing because you had to take the initiative and didn't want to push him. He apologized in a low, reluctant voice that sounded almost like he was trying things out. His eyes were on the floor, not looking into your eyes, and his hands were in his pockets. "For everything."

Your heart skipped a beat as you froze. It was there. The first break in the silence: the words you've been waiting for. The weight of all that had been left unsaid made your chest tighten as you turned to face him. You started to say, "Minho," but your voice trailed off as your throat filled with emotion. When he finally looked into your eyes, his face softened and he took a step forward. "I should have spoken to you. "I shouldn't have pushed you away like that," he added in a remorseful tone. "I simply... I shut you out rather than letting you in because I didn't know how to deal with anything.”

You gave a small shake of your head, not because you didn't comprehend, but rather because the pain and suffering of those silent days remained present. You tried to control your emotions as you whispered, "I know you needed space, Minho." But when you refused to communicate with me, I was at a loss on how to make things better. I was really lost. He took tentative but resolute steps toward you. Almost whispering, he replied, "I don't want you to feel lost." "I apologize for making you feel that way. I just want you to understand that it wasn't about you. I was the one. I've honestly been overwhelmed.

The pain in your chest slowly begins to ease as you finally release a breath you were unaware you were holding. "I get it, Minho. Yes, I do. But if you don't let me in, I can't support. At that moment, he extended his hand and lightly touched yours. The tender touch served as a reminder that you were still there for one another despite the stillness. "I'll try," he answered in a quiet but genuine tone. "I swear. I'll let you in more. I don't want to isolate you again.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the relief of hearing him say it. For the first time in days, you put your arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug as you moved closer, your heart overflowing with emotion. After a moment of hesitation, Minho wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, allowing you to both feel as though the burden of the last few days had been lifted. It was a subtle acknowledgment of guilt and a subconscious understanding that although things weren't flawless, they could still be fixed.

You muttered, "I'm here, Minho," against his chest. "I'm not leaving either." His voice was muffled as he talked into your hair, holding you closer. “I know. I’m sorry for making you feel like you didn’t matter. You do. You always have.”

Even though there was still some tension, hurt, and stillness, it didn't matter just now. The important thing was that you were both prepared to start over and, no matter how long it took, find your way back to one another.

Minho then said, "Let's take it slow," while planting a gentle kiss on your forehead and wearing the smallest of smiles. “But let's do it together.”

From then on, you were aware that you would deal with any challenges together; there would be no more silence, only love, understanding, and patience.

—

nini’s notes 111124

hi everyone! this is my first full length fic & it’s angst! i personally lovee reading angst so i thought i’d try it out, i hope you enjoy & don’t forget to leave any feedback that you may have 🤗🫶

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

HERE IS WHY VIKTOR WALKED AWAY FROM JAYCE AFTER HE SAVED HIM AND WHY WE DIDN'T GET A DRAWN OUT DIVORCE!

(spoilers. Duh.)

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

short answer: It's because Viktor's dead.

Long answer:

So Arcane is all about people changing right? The first season was rife with the idea that if you want to become who you're meant to be you have to kill off your old self. (I'm paraphrasing here, and poorly, just REMEBER jinx's arc throughout the first SZN ok, powder had to die for jinx to live.)

In the show so far, we know arcane takes the idea of this change and charcter "death" very seriously. Ergo in that opening scene of s2e1 when Jayce sees Viktor crushed under the rubble and barely breathing Viktor is, for all the show's intents and purposes, dead.

This is where you may be shouting, NO BUT JAYCE RESSURECTED HIM! and listen I agree with you, Jayce physically resurrected Viktor, yes, but what came out of that cocoon is not Viktor. Lemme explain.

Arcane doesn't do ressurection, period, the show is about dying and changing, nobody stays the same, and if you die you come back different, unrecognizable even. (Jinx, Silco, Vander as Warwick) Singed is the only character who tries to keep things the same, preserve them, and those thing he has preserved have either been changed spectacularly anyway (jinx, Warwick/Vander) or they are Inert (Rio).

So when Jayce lays Viktor down on the lab table and he's all rekt, he is dead, like even if he's breathing Viktor is functionally dead, with no magical or medical intervention he will die/has died. (I have a bone to pick here a bit with the fact that Jayce didn't take him to a hospital. Maybe it was because of the glowy appendages but I doubt it. Which leads me to assume that Viktor's injuries were beyond medical treatment meaning, once again, that he's basically dead. )

Ergo when Jayce explicitly goes against Viktor's wishes to destroy the hexcore and instead fuses it into Viktor. What comes out of that cocoon isn't Viktor anymore.

Viktor says it himself when he walks out of the cocoon he asks " what am I?" And he says something like " I died/I should be dead." While it's subtle I think we, the audience, are meant to take this very LITTERALLY.

Even while Jayce is exclaiming that he" is alive" Viktor is very sure that he isn't, that he's dead and changed. (Hella bummed he didn't get a pretty arc for this change but I guess theyre counting S1 as his arc? Anyway)

There is very important moment I want to draw your attention to here, when Jayce embraces Viktor, in joy, and Viktor slowly returns the embrace one armed and leans into Jayce, he doesn't close his eyes. (I know this sounds crazy bare with me) What I'm positing here is that this is the first inkling that Viktor is gone because he doesn't accept what Jayce is telling/giving him.

Essentially in that reunion scene, imma call it a reunion, Jayce is giving Viktor everything he wanted, their dream, their partnership, Jayce's love and attention. (don't argue with me on this Viktor is s1 wanted both even it was unsaid) And Viktor refuses all of it, he doesn't accept Jayce's affection, he doesn't close his eyes when they embrace! closing his eyes, sinking into that hug would have been acceptance, it would have been the moment that Viktor, actual Viktor, had been waiting for. (and boy had he been waiting).

But what walked/crawled/clawed their way out of that cocoon isn't Viktor. Instead it's Viktor's body and whatever impression of Viktor, or maybe parts of his soul, he gave up/lost to the Hexcore.

I think the hexcore has, very litterally, become Viktor, like Jayce basically sacrificed Viktor's body to give the thing life and now it's wearing Viktor's face and has these remnants of his memories. I believe this because it also has Skye's voice!

The hexcore didn't have a voice before, it was like a weird murmuring hum, and Viktor couldn't understand it. But now whatever parts are left of Viktor and Skye have amalgamated into the hexcore and their good intentions/idealism are functioning to guide this newly born hexcore/machine herald. (That would explain why it leaves Jayce, it has the memories of Viktor's love but not the actual emotion, it would explain why it returns to the undercity, because it has memories of that place as "home" from both Vik and Skye, and it would also explain why the MH will eventually wear a mask, because it's not Viktor, it just has his face.)

So it makes sense when the machine herald leaves Jayce after that confession and offer, because it's not Viktor anymore. Viktor is dead and Jayce failed to save him.

Anyway, hope that cleared it up for you, of course THIS IS JUST A THEORY! AN ARCANE THEORY (I couldn't help myself)

A/N, this explanation isnt meant to, like, invalidate any complaints that the Divorce arc was too rushed/fast/thrown aside. Because in a lot of ways I think it was!

This also isn't to say that this explanation I give above is the perferred way to tell Viktor's story! Because I don't think it was! In many ways by killing Viktor and making him like, the human conduit for the hexcore, they have taken away 99% of Viktor's autonomy as a character. His choices are no longer his own, his actions are tainted by this corrupting force, he (if he is even alive) no longer is himself. This victimizes Viktor in a way I don't love but also draws away from his very valid and real pain and anger.

In the machine herald lore in LoL we have these ideas of transhumanism, self reinvention, and at its core, a guy who, pushed to his limits, turned his back on Pilotover and let his own hubris lead him to committing atrocious acts.

In LoL, Viktor becomes a monster, he chooses to be the machine herald, he meticulously replaces/removes parts of himself so he can become closer and closer to what he views as the " perfect machine". His glorious evolution surrounds this idea, that humanity is inherently weak and that the only way to overcome that weakness is to surrender to the machine, to evolve.

Arcane Viktor is not getting this Arc, whatever way they try to twist the magic they gave him he's not going to get this level of revenge or autonomy, he just isn't. His purpose is likely not going to be anywhere near as strong because like I said up top Viktor's a dead man. And he isn't getting to make choices anymore.

I'll end this post here before it gets unbearably long but feel free to pop off in the reblogs, tags, and comments lads!

Love Arcane too bits and can't wait for Act 2! JAYVIK NATION RISE!

[nakylvr]

hiiii can I request gp!sophia x fem!reader with angst prompt 1 + smut prompt 10 where basically reader just had a huge fight with her ex bf and went to sophia bc she’s her best friend (that she’s also lowkey really attracted to) and sophia tries to cheer reader up (by fucking her) but she’s really sweet and fluffy during it🫶🏼

(sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but I hope you get what I mean😭english is not my first language💜)

bestie this is so good...you made perfect sense i understood completely 🫶 thank you so much for requesting!

— ALL I WANTED ⚓️

sophia laforteza (katseye) x fem!reader

summary: angst prompt 1("i didn't know where else to go") + smut prompt 10("don't worry, i'll take care of you") from my 100 follower event OR you have a big fight with your boyfriend and break up. going to your best friend sophia, things take a turn by how she "cheers you up"

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, g!p!sophia, soft dom!sophia, sub!reader, soft sex, lots of praise, unprotected sex, cumming inside

you stood in front of the door of your best friend's apartment. your arms were folded in on yourself, practically hugging yourself as you waited for the door to open. it was cold outside, feeling the chill breeze as you wore merely a thin sweater and leggings. you glance away for a split second, and suddenly the door opens revealing sophia, whose expression quickly goes from happy to concerned at the sight of you.

"oh my god, are you okay?" she immediately questions. "here, come inside. you're probably freezing." she grabs your arm and pulls you inside, closing the door behind you.

"sorry for showing up like this," you apologize quietly as you look down at the ground. "i didn't know where else to go," your voice cracks as you say this.

sophia can instantly tell something is wrong. the first thing being you apologizing when she would never be upset with you for randomly showing up in the middle of the night. second being the way your eyes won't meet hers. and third, the crack in your voice.

"hey, hey," she says softly, placing her hands on your shoulders. "what's wrong? what happened?" her tone is so caring and genuine like she always is with you. she hates seeing you upset to the point of near crying, but she doesn't know how to help if she doesn't know what's wrong.

"it-it's just my boyfriend and i got in a huge fight...he broke up with me and basically kicked me out so...i came here," your voice is quiet as you speak, still not being able to meet her eyes.

sophia's eyes go wide for a second at your answer. but when you finally look at her, eyes filled with tears, her breath hitches in her throat. she can't lie and say she doesn't think this is a blessing in disguise given the fact she's been pining for you for years now, but couldn't do anything with that stupid boyfriend of yours around, cause she does think it. she knows you feel the same, at least she thinks it with the lingering stares you've been giving her more recently and the way you've talked to her lately. she tries to think quickly of what's the best option to do right now, too many different thoughts running through her head as she stares back at you. hesitantly, she moves her hands from your shoulders to cup your face in her hands, seeing the way your eyes subtly widen at her action and hoping she isn't fucking this up. "how about i help cheer you up?"

you're frozen in your spot as sophia asks you the question, and you're not sure how to respond. you don't have a complete understanding of what she's meaning, your mind going in a direction you assume would never happen ever no matter how much you wanted. "what do you mean by that?" you respond quietly.

"whatever you want it to mean," sophia answers in the same voice. "i'm here for anything you need or want."

those words are enough reassurance you need to finally say what you've been wanting to say for a while now. "kiss me," you whisper.

sophia tries to fight the smile that creeps on her face at your reply, but fails miserably as she leans in and closes the gap between you and her. she can taste the remainder of your lipgloss on your lips that you applied earlier in the day, sighing softly against your lips. your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer to you before parting from the kiss. your face is inches away from hers, and your fingers play with her hair as you stare into her eyes.

"you're a really good kisser," you murmur. "how were you planning on cheering me up?" you ask next.

"will you let me show you?" sophia responds. "let me take care of you like you deserve." her hands move to your waist, somehow managing to pull you even closer.

"please," you say in a quiet voice.

that's all sophia needs to hear before she's pulling you to her bedroom, kissing you continuously and almost tripping when she hits the bed. she swiftly picks you up and lays you down on the bed, crawling above you and peering down at you. her hands find the hem of your swearer and she looks at you, silently asking for your permission to remove it. you nod your head, and she slowly pulls it up over your head, leaving you in your bra and leggings.

"you're so beautiful," sophia murmurs, her hands drifting up and down your torso. they stop at the waistband of your leggings, her fingers hooking around it and lightly tugging them down your legs and off along with your panties. "you have no idea how much i've wanted this," she says, her eyes wandering over your body, her cock throbbing in her boxers at the sight of you in front of her. she quickly discards her shirt and shorts, leaving her in her boxers that had a wet spot from the precum leaking from her tip. she brings a hand between your legs, fingers dragging along your folds before slowly slipping two into your wet heat.

"s-sophia," you whimper out when she slowly thrusts her fingers in and out of you.

your walls suck her fingers in greedily, making her only want you more as she pulls her fingers out after a few seconds, needing to feel you around her cock. she strips off her boxers, her cock springing out, the head red and dripping beads of precum. supporting herself up with one of her arms near your head, the other holds the base of her length, sliding up and down your dripping pussy, collecting your slick on her tip. "don't worry, i'll take care of you," she tells you softly. "are you ready?"

you nod your head, whimpering at the feeling of her rubbing against you. "yes- please i need you so bad," your voice comes out whinier than you wanted, but you can't find it in you to care seeing the way sophia's eyes darken at your words.

slowly, she pushes inside of you, watching the way your eyes roll back at the size of her filling you up. sophia curses under her breath at your walls squeezing around her tightly, stopping once she was fully in you. "you tell me when you want me to move, okay?" she presses a quick kiss on your lips.

your jaw falls open as you feel her stretching you out, a quiet whimper coming from you when she stops. you nod again at her words, taking a few shallow breaths before speaking. "y-you can move now."

inch by inch, sophia pulls out before sliding back in, the wetness of your pussy making it oh so easy for her to build a slow pace. "you're so pretty," she says, leaning down and kissing you. "god, you're so tight," she hisses against your lips.

quiet moans fall from your lips as she sets a slow pace, almost embarrassed of getting too loud, whimpering at her words as she kisses you. your arms hook around her neck, pulling her closer. parting from the kiss, you breathe heavily as you stare up at her, biting down on your lower lip to try and keep quiet.

sophia's eyes don't leave yours once, keeping eye contact while maintaining her slow pace. she didn't want to get rough with you in your current state, she was happy enough for this to be happening in general. plus, she seriously doubted your dumbass boyfriend gave a fuck about whether you actually came or not. so she was going to make sure you would. "don't be shy, princess," she pushes some of your hair out of your face. "let me hear you, my love. i wanna hear the pretty noises you make."

your face heats up at the realization that she wants to hear you, finally letting go of your lip from your teeth and freely moaning like she wanted. "sh-shit sophia," you whine her name. you're surprised at how slow and gentle the girl above you is being, as if she was worried she would hurt you when you know she would never even think of hurting you once. but, it was nice. she was right, she was making you feel the way you deserved.

hearing her name coming from you in that whiny tone has sophia's cock twitching in you, letting out quiet grunts with her gaze still on you. "how does it feel, baby?" she asks you, genuine. she needs to know she's making you feel good, she needs to hear you say it. she doesn't know how she's keeping up this slow, almost agonizing pace, but seeing your reactions each time she slowly pushes back in is enough for her to keep at it. "tell me how it feels."

"g-good," you manage out through moans. "it fe-feels so g-good- fuck- you're making m-me feel so good," you emphasize on 'you're' so that she knows that she's the only one on your mind. it was true, you couldn't even think about anything else except for the way she feels like this. you didn't even remember why you came here, and you didn't care, either.

"fuck," sophia breathes out at your response. she can tell you've long forgotten why you originally came to her place, and that mixed with you emphasizing that she's the one making you feel this good has her swelling with pride. "you're so beautiful like this. i love you so so much," she mumbles, not realizing the way her words could sound to you.

you can barely process her words, only hearing the 'i love you', and that alone has you clenching tightly around her cock, somehow getting even wetter than you already were. "i lo-love you too- o-oh my god!" your eyes roll back when you feel her tip nudge against your g-spot. "fu-fuck!" you feel tears welling in your eyes as you feel yourself getting closer to cumming.

seeing the tears in your eyes has sophia cooing at you, cupping your cheek with one of her hands and wiping the stray tear that falls. "shh, you're close, yeah?" she says quietly. she slowly speeds up her thrusts just a little bit, pushing so deep into you that she can practically see the outline of her cock bulging from your stomach making her twitch again. "i'm close too- shit!- tel-tell me where you want me," her words are starting to get interrupted by little whimpers escaping her throat as she feels herself get closer.

you nod your head quickly at her question, murmuring out, "ye-yes," through your noises that are getting louder and whinier. her next words have your head spinning to come up with a response. staring up into her eyes as she stares down at you, you know the answer you're going to give. "i-in me, please, i'm o-on the pill, please cum in me, please," you're begging for her in a way that would be embarrassing to you in any other moment, but you can't find it in you to care.

sophia's eyes go wide when you tell her what you want, but she isn't going to deny your requests in any shape or form. "don't worry, my love," she tells you before kissing you, moaning into the kiss and speeding up just a little bit more.

whining her name as she kisses you, you pull her down impossibly closer to you, your bodies practically pressed against each other. your legs wrap around her hips, bringing her even closer to you. pulling out of the kiss, you rest your forehead against hers, looking deeply into her eyes as short breaths and moans of her name leave your mouth. "f-fuck, sophia 'm so close,"

"go on," she pecks your lips quickly. "cum for me, my pretty girl. so pretty for me like this, god," she groans quietly.

after one final thrust, your eyes roll into the back of your head as you cum so hard you end up seeing white, your hands clawing at her back. not even a minute later, sophia is putting her face in your neck and letting out a long drawn-out whine as spurts of her cum fill you up to the brim. she stays there for a moment or two, breathing heavily into your neck before slowly pulling out of you. a whimper falls from your lips at the feeling, your arms still hooked around her neck and holding her close to you.

"do you...really love me in this way?" you whisper quietly.

sophia pulls her face from your neck at your hesitant question, looking down at you and nodding her head. "of course. i just didn't want to do anything while you were with him," she answers truthfully.

you nod slowly, clearly hesitating about asking the next question you were thinking of. "do you want...to be with me?"

there's a look in sophia's eyes that you can't figure out, as if she's struggling with a response. "yes," she says in a quiet voice.

"then i'm yours," you smile at her, moving your hands to cup her cheeks. "i love you."

sophia's face instantly lights up when you speak, a wide smile tugging on her lips. "i love you too, so much."

[buzzinrusso]

Please Don't leave pt.2

(Light at the end of the tunnel)

Summary: where ingrid and mapi try to mend the forces , leading alexia to explain herself to you.

Contains: angst ,fluff ,polyamory and a little suggestive at the end

Word count : 1.3k

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions .

You cried about it. You sobbed and cried, but eventually accepted the fact that you weren't enough for them .

Your manager was contacting multiple teams for your "loan" that you were hoping to turn into a full transfer. The teams interested were Manchester City ,Arsenal , Real Madrid, and Chelsea , along with a few other European teams .

Today , you had a meeting with the team manager to actually talk about if you really wanted to transfer.

Your plans were deranged when a fan account posted about your possible transfer from Barcelona to Manchester .

Word got around quickly, and surely enough,your teammate started flooding your messages ,questions you throughly in the team group chat.

You decided to just ignore them and talk it over at practice.

So , you got up ,went into the shower whilenoncall with your best friend from back home ,telling her about your situation.

This led to her talking and intense amount of shit about the girls and telling you that she was there for you.

A few hours later

You arrived at practice with the intention to ignore everyone .

You parked your car at your designated parking spot and went to the trunk of your car to get your bag .

When you walked into the training ground ,you were greeted by the media woman asking you what your phone wallpaper was ,you quickly showed it to her ,telling her that I was a picture of you and your bestfried ,alya,from back home after your graduation.

You sighed and then continued your way to practice ,making sure that it was a normal ,civil, and calm day ,avoiding anyone and everyone who tried to mention that rumours about your transfer .

Until patri came up to you in the middle of practice and started interrogating you about the post , which led pina to start questioning you too while the while team listened in ,especially two girls who were hoping that the rumours were not true.

"For the last time, Claudia, I'm not telling you anything right now ." You rolled your eyes at the girl for what felt like the 100th time today and walked away .

You marched into the locker room with full intention of packing your bag and rescheduling your meeting until a certain blonde walked in with an unrecognisable look on her face.

"Why are you leaving ?" The captain asks .

"None of your business, alexia." You snapped at her .

"I know something is wrong." You went quiet ."You can talk to me, nena."

You let out a loud scoff ," I clearly can't," you said while rolling your eyes at the captain as you got up to storm away .

"Come o-" you immediately cut her off with a yell ."Just stop ,alexia! I heard what you said at the team bonding night ,so you can stop pretending and say what you have to say to my face instead of talking ahit behind my back!" You borderline yelled at your captain and stormed out of the room with your training bag in hand.

Later that evening, a knock sounded at your door ,you swung the door open with annoyance painted on your face only to be met with the only two people you didn't want to talk to at all.

You rolled your eyes at them before trying to close the door only to be stopped by the one and only ingrid engen who shoved her foot between them and the door.

"We need to talk." Maria said as she walked into your apartment. "Please don't leave ,cari"

"Oh ,I think we're done talking." You exclaimed."I think the way you laughed at me when alexia was joking was enough talk for me."

"Wait ,wha-"

"You can save it .you know, I actually thought that you guys liked me . It was so obvious that I had the biggest crush on you guys ,and you were always - what I thought was - flirting with me .and I really liked you guys up until I heard you guys laughing at some cruel joke about me." Tears were starting to prick up in your eyes as they stinger them, but you kept calm and carried the weight of the rift.

Mapi eventually stopped your rant ."Look,cari, what you walked in on was not what you think it was . It's actually a really fucked up miscommunication about a really embarrassing conversation. We were talking about football .we were talking about the double tackle we did on Monday, and it turned into sex talk about tops and bottoms, and alexia was claiming that ..."

"Claiming what?"

"She was claiming that we would top you..." ingrid said in a hushed whishper as embarrassment flooded her body.

A moment of silence passes .it was a minute ,then two ,and then your laughter filled the air .

You were full on crying of laughter as mapi and ingrid just stared at you in confusion .

"What the fuck" you said in between breaths while still wheezing from laughter ."God, this is so ridiculous. "

"Are you still going to leave Barcelona?" Mapi asked.

"Ugh,I don't know .I've been in contact with a few teams, but I can pull out of it anytime before next week.".

"Can we get you not to leave?" Ingrid questioned

"I would take a lot of stuff for me not to go." You said truthfully .

"Stuff like this..?" You looked at the raven haired girl confused until she pulled you in and planted her lips on yours .

The kiss was electric , passionate, and perfect. Her soft lips moved against yours in the most glamorous way ever ,like you guys were meant to be.

It's only when you hear mapi whine that you moved back away from ingrid and then pulled into another kiss from Maria.

Her lips were like candy on yours as you easily melted into a rhythm with her .She moved her lips just right and snuck her tongue into your mouth while pulling you over her lap .

You pulled away for a breath of air but then got quickly pulled back in as ingrid started gently kissing your neck.

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

Sorry that this one is a bit of a short one ! Next chapter will be about 5k words of just fluff and smut ;)

Tags :@marvelwomen-simp , @iamagoddess1

[wandixx]

Ok it closes out on me when I tried typing it the first time-

Anyway, I'm a sucker for shock value ones, just so funny to me, so how about M'gann being nervous about introducing bf danny and it happens at an inconvenient time! Could go ghost royalty, ancient of space or anything, hell ghost as dragons would be pretty funny, up to you though!

I'm not sure if I did a good job at this, but I didn't want you to wait too long and real life is keepimg me busier than expected, so for now, it's here. I may continue it one day (I also have different version of fill for this prompt, because neither idea felt right, so if you'd like to see I too, just let me know whatever way is most convenient to you)

This wasn't supposed to happen like that. M'gann didn't have a super detailed plan on how it was supposed to happen, but even her vague (thought and rethought every night) ideas were anything but this. It was supposed to be a calm, low-stakes situation. Maybe even make it look like an accidental meeting, Team in civies hanging out around Happy Harbour, bumping into Danny and then she'd just introduced him, perhaps adding ‘btw, he is my boyfriend’ almost like an afterthought. This seemed like the best possible scenario.

This was also, as expected with the way hero life is, the exact opposite of what actually happened.

Of course, it didn’t start with anything heralding the absolute disaster this day had to become. Kinda accidentally the Team stumbled upon something between a cave and a basement, and in it a group of people, who decided to perform a summoning of a genie so they could… wish for stuff. They didn’t even look like cultists or villains of any sort, just a group of random adults from seemingly very different backgrounds. M’gann had a really hard time understanding what actually brought them together other than their wishes.

Which was actually pretty useful when it came to fighting them, because nobody really cared about their fellow summoner, just trying to save their own butt. She kinda wished more of their opponents were so incompetent.

Though, she spoke too soon because in the excitement of the fight, somehow all of them didn’t realize that one or two of the summoners… actually managed to finish a summoning. It was honestly a little bit embarrassing.

But, it was too late to dwell on all that, as right above the summoning circle appeared a circle in a worryingly familiar shade of green.

Of course, this one time she didn’t have any equipment from Danny, had to be when the Team encountered a ghost.

Ghost in question was a beautiful woman, with long hair covering one of her eyes, in a blue outfit that was related to one of Earth cultures, but M’gann didn’t know which, and a bunch of bracelets on her wrists. Martian could make a hazard guess on who it was, based on the stories Danny told her.

“We don’t have time for explanations, I think I know who this is, if I’m right for the love of everything that’s dear to you, don’t say the word ‘wish’ out loud” she demanded over the Mindlink.

Before she finished, Artemis took silver tape from somewhere and slapped a piece of it over Wally’s mouth. M’gann understood the sentiment but still… it was a little bit too nuclear option.

Desiree (if it was her) didn’t attack anyone, looking a bit confused, giving Team a moment of reprieve to plan and for Kid Flash to make sure none of the summoners could make whatever wish they wanted either. Also with the use of silver tape. Djinn’s were always tricky.

M'gann used this moment of everyone getting their bearings to curse herself for not bringing any ghost weapons this time. Any other mission, Team or not, she had something on her but today? Today she had nothing.

Excluding the summoning engraved into clips holding her cape but it was kinda last resort. It wouldn't annihilate everything in one mile radius or something but she didn't want to drag Danny there if he was during a test, other ghost fight or something. She knew better than anyone that he didn’t need more distractions.

Conner crashed into a wall right next to her. Artemis seemed to lose her cool when none of her arrows seemed to reach the ghost while Robin was trying to make some counter plans with Kaldur. They couldn't do a thing to Desiree and it was a matter of seconds before she stopped entertaining them and went to the city. It… would end badly, most likely. Danny would prefer to get involved before it got that far. Yeah…

She really wished she didn’t have to call.

“I have an idea, cover for me for a minute or two”

“Bold of you to assume we can stop her from anything”

“I believe in you Wally. Just distract her”

“My water attacks seem to be effective weapon against her”

“That’s aster! What do you plan to do, M'gann?”

“Summon another ghost”

She expertly ignored yelling that followed, taking the golden clip off of her cape. She held fabric in place with absentminded use of telekinesis, while she focused on an engraved pattern. Danny's summoning circle wasn't actually too complicated or intricate but she needed to do it just right. And frankly, she just liked looking at it. Physical proof that her boyfriend would be there if she needed it. Drawn representation of who he is, the deepest and truest parts of his soul written in the language that only Universe itself could fully understand.

And it was beautiful. Absolutely incredible. Much better than Desiree's circle, thank you very much.

M’gann dropped to her knees and grabbed leftover chalk from previous summoning and crouched to quickly draw Danny's seal. She had a lot of practice from all the times she doodled it on a whim just to get something of him with her when she missed him the most. She rarely actually summoned him, again, it was difficult to align their schedules, but she was very familiar with the first step.

And it was really easy from there.

She placed the clip in the middle of the circle, shapeshifted one of her nails to get a bit of blood on the chalk and leaned back.

After a careful, deep breath, she started an incantation, putting as much power in her voice as she could.

“I call upon you guard of Amity Park, I call upon you dearest child of the Ice, I call upon you one favored by the Time, I call upon you vanquisher of the Fear, I call upon you subduer of the King, I call upon you defender and the guide, I call upon Phantom, both worlds beloved child”

Circle erupted in green light, putting a momentary pause to the fight. M’gann was still blinking spots away when a figure flung itself out of the summoning circle, right at the Desiree.

“What the fuck?!”

Only after the first punch was thrown did Danny turn back to her, with his usual, somehow both gallant and bashful smile, that without fault made her knees get a little weaker. She smiled back.

“Hello Starlight” he greeted, sounding almost casual.

“Starlight?”

“Hi Angel. Nice of you to drop by” she answered in the same manner. Wally tried to yell from behind the duck tape.

“Angel?! M'gann, who is he? Who is she?!”

“I will always come if you call” he said without any doubt, suddenly as serious as if he was sharing information that could break or make the world.

It certainly worked like that to her world. She actually melted a little on the inside.

“I know”

“Actually, that's kinda cute. I still have no idea who this is, but you go girl”

“I feel like it's not the right time Artemis”

“Not to interrupt… whatever this is, but the other ghost is escaping” Robin cut in “Also, if you want to make out afterwards, please find the room, Batman and Catwoman are traumatizing enough“

Few people snorted, while Danny blushed green. He darted back at Desiree, clearly to escape the embarrassment. M’gann stood up, totally at ease now, that he was there to take care of it.

“Will you need a hand? I don't have any tech but we have a trick or two up our sleeves!” she asked, projecting her voice so it carried through the cavernous basement without yelling.

“I'm good for now but thanks for asking!”

“M’gann, can you give us anything substantial? Who is this? How do you know him?”

“One question at the time and let's wait until he finishes, okay?“

She cut off Mindlink before anyone agreed or protested.

“Miss Martian!”

“Soup time!”

With a blast of light, Desiree got sucked in and Danny landed in front of them with a proud grin.

“My job here is done”

“It truly is. You're getting faster too”

“And thanks to who is that?”

“You”

Danny sent her both an incredulous and playful glare.

“Of course. I miraculously found a ways to not be a mess and don't crash through every wall on my way and–”

“Well, no but–”

“Let me remind you, you're not alone… also who are you dude? And where did the other lady go?” Wally asked, right after ripping the duct tape off his mouth.

“Oh, well, I'm Phantom, I usually work in Amity Park?” he said a bit unsure, as if calling him a protector was under any question. That just wouldn't do.

“He's a hero from Amity Park”

“Thanks love. It's nice to finally meet you all. M talked a lot about you!”

“Can't say same about you, sorry”

“That's fine. I know M was agonizing over how to introduce me in the best way possible. I'm really happy it's finally over,” he paused for a moment, with his brows furrowed “Did I do good? This first impression thing?”

“You're… far less imposing that I personally expected after hearing Miss Martian summoning you, but–”

“M’gann how could you hide this from us?” Conner blurted out quietly, and oh, he sounded so utterly crushed. Everyone fell silent, the playful atmosphere gone as if it had evaporated.

“I never intentionally hid it. It wasn't significant enough to mention at the start and when it became important I felt like I couldn't just drop it at you during lunch or something. I always planned to tell you, there was just never the right time nor right words. I never wanted to hide it.”

“Even just me?”

“Especially you”

“You still should've…”

“Yeah, I should. I'm sorry”

“How long ago have you met?”

“Half a year ago,” Danny said before she managed to answer “It's all kinda my fault actually. I was really set on not getting mixed up with more hero business than I had to back then. I didn't want you or Justice League finding out about me. And when I agreed, it was already really late. I'm sure she'd told you all from the get go if I let her, I'm sorry”

“Why wouldn't you want us to know about you?”

“It's… Probably not the conversation we should have right here, over gagged wannabe cultists.”

“Valid. Let's call the cops and get going. You two have much to explain”

“And you're sitting eight feet apart until you do!”

Danny leaned in to kiss her, quick and playful, before he jumped back at the demanded distance.

“Well, this still went better than at your side”

“Absolutely”

*******

Also, here is some lil arts for a longish wait, sorry again, I hope this story is yours to your expectations

[enzstr]

Only You || K. Bakugo

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

synopsis: starz26708 and Dino.tnt609, two students who first met in an online chatroom. A friendship had flourished between them. With the strong need to meet each other, 6aku.tnt609 slowly gains curiosity regarding the other's identity, which sparked the desire to meet her within him. What could possibly go wrong?

💭: btw, this is inspired from the Chad Michael Murray and Hilary Duff movie A Cinderella's Story!!

author's note: My deepest apologies it took me so long to upload the new chapter!!! I've been having finals and examinations but I'm free now!! New chapter might come out in a few days or a week since it's in my drafts now...

words: 3.7k

Chapter 2: The Two People

Reader's POV

The following day, I sat in my classes, feeling unusually unfocused. I found my thoughts continually returning to the message I had received the night before from my friend, Dino.tnt609. The words and emotions contained in that message had left a powerful and lingering effect on me, making it difficult for me to fully immerse myself in the subjects being taught.

“Please meet me at the school’s party. I’ll be waiting for you at 11:00 in the middle of the dance floor.” 

Those messages had set themselves so deeply into my thoughts that it was as if they were on a constant replay in my mind. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to rid myself of their presence. They continued to resurface, over and over again, like a stubborn memory that refused to be forgotten. The more I tried to dismiss them, the more their contents seemed to linger in my thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside or ignored.

“Y/n, what is the difference between speed and velocity?”

My heart dropped. I have been half-listening, my mind drifting, thinking about the message Dino sent to me—contemplating meeting him, and the school party. But now, I was completely caught off guard. Difference between speed and velocity—the words sounded fuzzy in my head, like fragments of a puzzle I wasn’t sure how to put together.

That was when she noticed him.

Bakugo.

He was sitting at the back of the class, leaning back in his chair, hands casually folded behind his head. He was grinning—the kind of grin that wasn’t friendly or supportive. It was the kind of grin that only came when you were sure someone else was about to fail. He’d been watching me for a while now, and I could feel his gaze boring into me. I knew exactly what he was thinking: She wasn’t paying attention. She doesn’t know the answer. This is my chance to look good in front of everyone.

The grin on Bakugo’s face widened ever so slightly, and I could almost hear his internal smirk. He had the confidence of someone who’d aced every test without breaking a sweat, someone who knew how to get under your skin with the smallest of gestures. And right now, his quiet, almost smug enjoyment was aimed directly at me.

My stomach twisted. It wasn’t that I cared about beating Dylan, exactly. But I did care about not looking foolish in front of the class—especially when he was clearly expecting me to fail. The challenge hung in the air, palpable, like an unspoken duel. I could almost hear him thinking, Come on, mess up. Please mess up.

The competitive spark in me flared to life, and in that moment, something shifted inside of me. I wasn’t going to let him get the last laugh. No way.

I straightened up in my chair, eyes narrowing just slightly, and forced myself to focus. I don’t need to know everything, I told myself. I just need to know enough to get this answer right.

My gaze locked back onto the board, and suddenly, it wasn’t so hard to make sense of the question. It was a simple logic question—something I could handle if I stopped panicking.

Mr. Aizawa was still looking at me expectantly, but now I had a plan. I took a steadying breath and spoke, my voice clearer than she felt.

“The difference between speed and velocity lies in their definitions, speed is a scalar quantity, meaning it only describes how fast an object is moving, without any reference to direction. For example, if a car is going 50 km/h, that's its speed.”

Her eyes flicked back to the board, confirming her answer. She could feel the weight of the moment—this was what it was all about. She hadn’t been paying attention before, but she was focused now, and she was going to finish strong.

“Velocity, on the other hand, is a vector quantity. This means it not only describes how fast an object is moving but also in which direction. For instance, if the car is traveling at 50 km/h to the east, its velocity is 50 km/h east. In essence, while speed only tells you the rate of motion, velocity provides both the rate and the direction of motion.”

Mr. Aizawa nodded approvingly. "Exactly, Y/n. Well done."

I felt a small surge of relief, but it wasn’t just the satisfaction of getting the answer right. It was the feeling of having turned the tables, of having taken control of the moment that had threatened to spiral out of my grasp. I glanced over at Bakugo, just as he was about to sit up straighter in his chair. His grin faltered when he saw the glint in my eyes.

And that was all the encouragement Bakugo needed.

I couldn’t help myself. A small, almost mischievous smile curved on my lips. It wasn’t an innocent, pleased-with-herself smile—it was the kind of grin you wore when you knew you’d just pulled something off, when you’d just made someone else realize they’d misjudged you.

Bakugo’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly, the smugness faltering for the briefest of moments. He’d thought I’d fumble. He’d thought I wouldn’t know the answer. But I had shown him, and not only had I known the answer—I said it with confidence, without hesitation.

He looked away first, clearly frustrated, but I didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened. I knew that look. He didn’t like losing, even if it was just a small moment, a little victory that nobody else in the room might even notice.

But I noticed. And that was enough for her.

As the class continued, Ellie let herself settle back into her seat, but her mind was sharp, focused, and alive with the thrill of competition. Dylan might have been the golden boy of the class, but today, in this small, unexpected moment, Ellie had beaten him. And for once, it felt really good to smile back at him—just a little bit smug, just a little bit competitive—knowing that he hadn’t seen this coming.

The moment I finished answering the question, I could feel it—a mix of pride and adrenaline coursing through me. I had nailed it, no hesitation, no second-guessing. The class had been quiet after I spoke, the silence hanging in the air before the professor acknowledged my answer. It felt like the eyes of the entire room were on me, but in that instant, I didn’t care. For once, I was the one who had it together.

But then there was the scoff.

I didn’t even need to look at him to know exactly who it was. Bakugo. The ever-present thorn in my side. His chair creaked as he shifted, his eyes narrowing in that way I was so familiar with. He looked almost... irritated, the kind of expression he wore when he thought someone was challenging his spot as top dog in this class. And right now, it was clear that he did not appreciate the fact that I was the one who had answered confidently.

Why does it always have to be him? I wondered, my hands clenched under the desk. I knew it was coming—he was going to find some way to one-up me, to make me feel small for doing something as simple as knowing the answer. I hated how predictable he was, but I hated even more that it affected me so much. I’d never let him see that, though. He had to think I was just as indifferent as he was.

I kept my eyes trained forward, pretending like his irritation didn’t bother me, like I wasn’t still replaying the way he’d looked at me, the way he always tried to put me in my place. It’s just a class. It doesn’t matter, I reminded myself. This isn’t real life. This is just some stupid competition.

The bell rang, breaking my thoughts, and the class started to pack up. As usual, Bakugo shoved his things into his bag with that signature smug expression, as if he'd already forgotten the moment I’d answered correctly. He probably wouldn’t give it a second thought, while I would be stewing in it for the rest of the day.

I grabbed my phone, hoping to distract myself. A new message from Dino.tnt 609 popped up. My fingers tapped the screen eagerly, relieved for the sudden shift in focus.

Dino.tnt609: “So, Halloween party tomorrow night.. what do you think? You in?”

I smiled at the message. Dino. He was the one person who could make everything feel lighter, even when things felt heavy. Talking to him always made me feel like I could breathe again after a day of dealing with Bakugo’s constant need to compete. Dino was my escape. He didn’t care about grades or the stupid academic battles I fought with Bakugo every day. He just… gets me.

But then I hesitated. My thumb hovered over the keyboard as I began to type, the excitement of the invite quickly dampened by a twinge of anxiety. The party. It should be fun, right? Just a Halloween party. But the idea of seeing someone in person—someone I had only ever known through texts and memes and game chats—suddenly felt overwhelming. What if I didn’t click with him in real life? What if meeting him was awkward?

But more than that, what if it turned out that the person I was texting with every night was someone I couldn’t stand in real life? What if he was one of those people who, once you met them face to face, you realized you just didn’t vibe with? What if it was someone like Bakugo?

Wait, no. Don’t think that. I tried to push the thought out of my head. I knew it was irrational. Dino wasn’t Bakugo. He couldn’t be. Dino was the one who listened to my rants without judgment. Bakugo would’ve laughed at my complaints, probably turned it into some kind of competition. But Dino didn’t—he understood. He had always been there when I needed to vent about school, about life, about how exhausting it was to constantly feel like I had to prove myself to people who didn’t deserve it.

I bit my lip, still unsure. Maybe I was overthinking it. It’s just a Halloween party. Just one night. The mask I planned to wear would make it easier, give me an extra layer of comfort in case things felt weird. And if it turned out the person I was meeting in real life was someone I couldn’t stand? I could always leave early, or just keep the mask on, keep things light. No pressure.

With a sigh, I finally typed back.

starz26708: “I’m not sure yet. I want to go, but I keep thinking about who I might run into. What if it’s someone I already know and just don’t get along with? I hate the idea of meeting someone and realizing they’re not who I thought they’d be…”

I glanced at the message after I sent it, my heart pounding slightly. What if Dino didn’t understand? What if he thought I was being weird or overdramatic? But no, Dino would get it. He always did.

My phone buzzed almost immediately, and I opened the message from him.

Dino.tnt609: “I totally get it. Meeting people in real life is a lot different, especially when you’ve only talked to them online. But hey, no worries. If you don’t like the vibe when you get there, you don’t have to stay. Just come and hang out for a bit, if you feel like it. We can just keep it lowkey. And honestly, the mask thing sounds awesome. No pressure at all.”

I felt the tension leave my shoulders as I read his reply. Dino’s message was so casual, so easy-going. It reminded me that I didn’t have to overthink everything. The idea of the mask suddenly felt like a safe haven, a way to protect myself if things didn’t go as planned. And if things went well? Even better.

I glanced at my costume on the chair across the room, the simple, cute outfit with the eye mask. It was just for fun, right? It would be a way to keep things light, to feel like I could still hide behind some layer of anonymity, just in case. I could show up, meet DIno, and see how it felt. If I didn’t like the vibe, I could leave. No harm done.

Taking a deep breath, I typed out my response.

starz26708: “Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll come to the party. And I’ll wear the mask. No pressure. Just… a fun time, right?”

I hit send and sat back in my chair, feeling both nervous and excited. The thought of meeting Maverick in real life still made my heart race, but now there was a sense of excitement bubbling up, too. No more overthinking. Tomorrow would be what it would be.

As I tucked my phone back into my pocket, I couldn’t help but think back to the classroom earlier that day, the way Bakugo had looked at me with that scoff, like I was some kind of threat to his place in the class. I couldn’t stop him from being irritated or annoyed by me. But for once, I didn’t need to care. I was about to meet someone who saw me for who I really was, not just some competitor in an academic race.

And for the first time in a while, that felt like enough.

The library was still, the kind of stillness that envelops you like a blanket, pressing in with its quiet whispers. The scent of old books and fresh paper, mingled with the faint hum of fluorescent lights, filled the air. I sat at my usual spot in the corner near the back row of tables, tucked between two towering bookshelves. The table before me was cluttered with textbooks, notebooks, and a half-finished cup of coffee that had long since cooled. It was late afternoon, and the golden light from the windows cast long shadows across the floor, making everything feel a bit more serene than usual.

I liked it here—the calm, the solitude, the sense of focus that always seemed to find its way to me in the midst of my chaotic thoughts. But today, there was an odd distraction. Him. Bakugo.

It wasn’t that he had suddenly appeared or made his presence known in any way. No, he’d been here for a while now, sitting at the table across from hers, his head bent low over a stack of textbooks. His usual aloofness was present, that edge of arrogance that always seemed to follow him like a cloud, but it was muted somehow. Less blatant. Less in-your-face.

I could feel the tension in her chest as I stole a glance at him. My eyes lingered for just a moment, not sure what to make of it. He wasn’t showing off, wasn’t playing the part of the smug academic genius. He was just… working.

It was weird. It had been a while since I’d seen Bakugo like this—since he had been normal. Or maybe that wasn’t the right word. Maybe it was more like he was letting his guard down a little, just enough for me to notice. He was still Bakugo, the same guy who had scoffed at me when I answered that question in class with confidence, the same guy who’d shot me looks of condescension every chance he got. But today, there was something… different.

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the way my thoughts were spiraling around him. I didn’t like this feeling. I didn’t like the fact that I was starting to care, even a little, about what Bakugo thought—or, worse, starting to wonder if he was, in some way, not the person I always assumed him to be.

My focus snapped back to my notes. I had a test coming up. A test I needed to ace. No distractions. No thoughts about him. And yet, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stop my gaze from drifting back to him.

Bakugo had paused in the middle of writing, a pencil hovering above his notebook as he looked at something in the distance, his gaze unfocused. There was a tiredness about him today, something uncharacteristic, as though the weight of his own expectations were getting to him. His posture had shifted slightly; no longer the rigid, always-perfect stance, but more slouched, as if the constant pressure of being the best was beginning to wear on him. I had always known that he had his own demons, just as I did. But today, it felt… real somehow. It felt more human.

I tried to shake it off, to tell myself that this was just another moment of my own weakness, my need to understand people. To make sense of things. But it was harder now. It was harder to keep the walls up when I had seen a flicker of something real underneath the arrogance.

Bakugo cleared his throat suddenly, breaking the silence between them, and my eyes shot up, my heart giving an unexpected jolt. He was looking at me now, but not with the same sharp, dismissive gaze I was used to. No, this time, it was... different. There was still a hint of skepticism, but it wasn’t the biting kind. It was almost... curious.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he said, his voice a little hoarse, but not with the usual irritation. It was more like an observation. “Staring off into space.”

I blinked, surprised by the comment. “What?”

“You’re distracted,” he said, his voice quieter now. He shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired sigh. “You’ve been looking at me like I’m some kind of puzzle you’re trying to figure out.”

I frowned, annoyed at how accurately he’d read me, even though I hadn’t been aware of it myself. “I haven’t been staring at you,” I muttered, though it wasn’t very convincing. I hadn’t meant to stare at him, but it was hard not to when something about today felt... off. In a way that was hard to describe.

Bakugo smirked, the edge of his usual arrogance slipping back for a moment. “Sure you haven’t.”

The flicker of their old dynamic was still there, but there was something softer in the way he said it. No ridicule. No malice. Just a simple, half-amused observation.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. This wasn’t helping me focus. And yet, there was something about the way Bakugo was acting today that made me feel like he wasn’t just my academic rival anymore. He wasn’t just the guy who competed against me for every grade, for every small victory.

For a split second,I entertained the thought that maybe—just maybe—I had misjudged him. But I quickly dismissed it. Bakugo was still Bakugo. Still arrogant. Still stubborn. Still too proud for his own good.

“I’m trying to focus,” I muttered, feeling a bit of tension in my chest, my irritation creeping back.

Bakugo didn’t respond right away. Instead, he picked up his pencil again and started scribbling something in his notebook. The sound of the lead scraping against the paper was oddly calming in the otherwise quiet space. I could feel the weight of the moment stretch out, the minutes slipping by as both of us worked, neither of us speaking.

And then, unexpectedly, Bakugo spoke again.

“You know,” he said, his voice a little softer than before, “you’re not the only one stressed out about this stuff.”

I blinked at him. What?

“Yeah,” He continued, not looking up from his work. “I might seem like I have everything figured out all the time, but I don’t. I—” He paused for a second, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something that wasn’t arrogance in his eyes. “I hate feeling like I’m always just... expected to be the best, you know?”

I was taken aback. I didn’t know how to respond at first. This wasn’t the Bakugo I knew, the Bakugo who acted like he had the world on a string and was just waiting for it to fall into place. No, this was different. This was... human. Vulnerable, even.

I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. “I get it,” I said quietly, before I could stop herself. “I feel the same way. Like I’m always trying to prove something. Like I’m never enough.”

Bakugo finally looked up at me then, his expression more thoughtful than I had ever seen it. The usual arrogance was still there, tucked beneath the surface, but it wasn’t all-consuming. For a second, he just looked at her, as if considering her words. And for a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say next.

Then, surprisingly, Bakugo offered a small, almost imperceptible nod, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, not into a smirk, but a genuine smile. It wasn’t much—certainly not the kind of smile I ever expect from him—but it was enough.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Guess we’re not so different after all.”

I was silent for a moment, processing the unexpected turn in their conversation. There was still so much about him that grated on my nerves, but in that moment, sitting in the library with him, I realized something. Maybe—just maybe—there was more to him than the arrogant exterior he always wore. Maybe there was a real person beneath all that pride and stubbornness.

And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to see him for who he truly was.

“I guess so,” I replied, offering him a small smile of my own.

Both of us went back to their work, the silence stretching out between us again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… peaceful. There was an understanding now, an unspoken truce. They weren’t enemies, not really—not anymore.

For the first time, I realized that their rivalry didn’t have to define us. We could just be two students, studying together in the same quiet space, both trying to survive the pressures of their lives.

And in that simple moment, sitting across from each other, we both found a kind of peace.

taglist: @sara4uuu @zoast32 @lemon-lav @instantmagazineconnoisseur (comment to be added on my taglist!)

enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[hoe4hotchner]

also this might be a weird one but could you write a story where the reader accidentally throws up on Hotch during you know what and he takes really good care of her

In Sickness and Health | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader | WC: 0.7k | CW: Vomit, the flu

A/N: I'm fairly certain I know which you know what you're talking about, and if it's the one I'm thinking about I don't write about that….. So I made reader sick with the flu instead.

It was hard to argue that things could get much worse as you curled up on your couch, shivering despite three blankets piled on top of you. The flu had hit fast and hard — harder than you'd ever experienced before.

Hotch had insisted on stopping by to check on you after you’d sounded “off” on the phone earlier, but now you almost regretted accepting his kindness. The last thing you wanted was for him to see you like this.

There was a gentle knock at your door, and you heard his voice just outside. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m coming in.”

Before you could croak out an answer, Hotch was already inside, his brow furrowing as he saw your bundled-up form. He was carrying a few bags from the pharmacy and some soup that smelled good enough to make your mouth water.

“I told you, you didn’t have to come,” you said, but even that small effort was enough to make your stomach flip.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He flashed you a gentle, reassuring smile and dropped his coat on a nearby chair. “I couldn’t leave you alone in this condition.” He set the bags on the coffee table, pulling out a bottle of cold medicine, a thermometer, and a box of tissues. “I thought these might help.”

You managed a weak smile. “I think I love you.”

He chuckled softly and brushed your hair back, his touch cool against your fevered forehead. “I’ll take that as the fever talking. Now, let’s get you sorted out.”

He knelt beside the couch and carefully held the thermometer under your tongue. You felt embarrassed under his watchful eye, but he was nothing but warm and reassuring, his hand never leaving yours. When the thermometer beeped, he read it with a frown. “One hundred and two. Let’s get some fluids in you.”

The soup smelled like heaven. You tried a few sips, managing to keep it down, but just as he leaned in to check your forehead again, your stomach twisted in that familiar, dreaded way.

“Aaron, I—”

But you didn’t get the words out in time. Before you knew it, you were heaving, and the soup — and whatever else was in your stomach — landed squarely on his shirt. You were mortified, eyes wide, but Aaron just blinked in mild surprise. “Oh.”

“I’m so sorry!” You groaned, feeling your cheeks burn hot with shame, despite the fever.

He was surprisingly calm, just dabbing at his shirt with a tissue from the box he’d brought over. “It’s fine. Clothes can be cleaned,” he said in that calming, matter-of-fact tone he often used at work. “But you need rest. Come on, let’s get you settled.”

He didn’t hesitate for a moment as he lifted you up, blankets and all, and carried you to your bedroom. You felt the blush creeping up as he set you down on your bed, adjusting the covers to make sure you were warm. Even in your fevered state, it was hard not to be acutely aware of his gentle touch, the way his hands brushed against you so carefully.

He quickly changed into one of his t-shirts that he'd left at your place — leaving his soiled dress shirt in the bathroom — and then came back with a cool washcloth. “This’ll help with the fever,” he said, dabbing it gently against your forehead, cheeks, and neck. His hands were steady, his gaze so soft that you almost forgot the embarrassment.

“You’re… really good at this,” you managed to say, voice muffled by exhaustion.

He chuckled. “I’ve had my fair share of sick days with Jack.”

You smiled weakly. “Thank you, Aaron. Really. I’m sorry about… you know.”

His fingers brushed against your forehead again, tucking a strand of hair away. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m right where I want to be.”

With him by your side, you felt yourself start to drift off, lulled by the soothing rhythm of his voice. As you slipped into sleep, you swore you felt his lips press softly against your forehead, his whispered promise lingering in the air:

“Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Xavier: Cat Nap | SFW

Just a quick thing I wrote up before work because I'm brain rotting on cat men rn. Also Grammarly corrected this one so hopefully there's no typos but I'm already running late for work so I ain't got time so ENJOY.

Pairings: Xavier x Reader Warnings: Cat Xavier Fluff Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

The door to your apartment opened with the smallest click; the noise echoed through it, causing Xavier’s ears to twitch as they perked up. He had been lying contently on the couch, curled up with a pillow held against his chest while the sun bore down just right on him. He let out a yawn as he tried to peer over to the entryway, hearing the rustling of keys and your shoes as you took them off and put them over by the door. His tail swayed lazily behind him as he propped his chin on the armrest of the soda, just waiting to see your form coming around the corner.

The soft padding of your feet drew nearer until he could finally see you. He didn’t realize he had been tensed up when he heard the door, but it was apparent the moment his entire body became more relaxed as you slowly approached him. He wanted attention, and that was for sure, and you were always more than happy to give it to him.

“Are you really taking a nap again? Weren’t you asleep when I left for work earlier?” you asked with a laugh, running your hands through his hair. He was almost purring when your hand came into contact with one of his ears, your touch gentle as you scratched right behind it.

“I can’t help it; you turned me into a cat,” Xavier said, leaning up into your palm. While it was true that you accidentally turned him into a cat boy three days ago using a new evol wand that you got as a prize, he was still always taking naps. Nothing really had changed other than the fact that he wasn’t going to work until he was back to normal, which would depend on when the wand would finish being repaired, as it broke the moment you used it.

You laughed, pinching the tip of his ear, and he let out a gasp, ducking his head more into the cushions. His blue eyes watched your hand with keen interest, almost wondering if you’d be doing it again. His ears were sensitive, and you knew that. It was why you had so much fun playing with them in the first place. “Really, again?” Xavier mumbled. He could see as you slowly came around to the other side of the sofa, sitting down on it and relaxing into the cushions.

Xavier didn’t even bother asking as he got closer to you and placed his head right onto your lap. His ears twitched as he looked at you, waiting for you to pet him. A small laugh escaped you as you went back to playing with his hair, your nails scratching gently on his scalp. This time, a nice, subtle purr came from his chest as he melted into your touch, savoring every moment of it.

“You know, I think in another life, you were a cat.” You mentioned noticing just how content he was despite the current situation. He really was just a sleepy cat who was always wanting your attention. Just the other night, he had been rubbing up against you until you finally gave him and cuddled with him. He was adorable, and you almost wished the wand would never be fixed so you could keep this version of Xavier forever.

Xavier grabbed your wrist and placed the palm of your hand against his cheek, nuzzling into it as he closed his eyes. You watched his nose wiggle a bit as he sniffed your scent; the faint floral smell invaded his senses, the same perfume that Tara had accidentally gotten on you earlier that day. “I like this smell.” He murmured, licking right on your wrist.

“I wish I could tell you what it was.” You laughed, “Tara was trying to spray herself, but the nuzzle was pointed at me. I used my arms to block my face, and it got all over them.” This got a laugh from Xavier as he continued to lick at your wrist. A small shiver went down your spine at the odd sensation. His tongue wasn’t dry like a cat, so it was still a bit slimy and left a wet trail over the skin there.

“Having fun?” you finally asked after a moment. His eyes finally opened and flicked over to you. You then watched as he gently nipped at your wrist just enough to have you flinching back, “Ow, Xayxay…” you said, the ending of his nickname coming out as a whine, “Did you really have to bite me?”

“I’m just a cat; what do you want from me.” He had a small pout on his lips and you could see the way his tail was swaying happily behind him. You shook your head and adjusted yourself; Xavier let out a small whine at your new position, trying to get comfortable again.

“You know, we could just cuddle in bed. I wouldn’t mind a nap after work.” You said, looking at the clock. It was only three in the afternoon since you had to go into the office extremely early. It was nice to get off at a normal, human hour instead of late at night after fighting wanderers all day.

Xavier didn’t bother responding. Instead, his hand was seeking out your own again. You moved it out of his reach, and you watched him go for it again. His new quirks were always amusing, and you were wondering briefly just how cat-like he could get. If he’d be like this for another day, perhaps you’d invest in a laser point. You let him take your hand again, and he kissed your palm, his ears flat against his head as he looked at you with a pleading expression.

“Lay down here with me.” He said, his tone almost coming out a little whiny. You sighed as you adjusted again, getting him off your lap as you lay down. His head found your chest where he relaxed, his arms around your torso like you were a giant plushie, “This is better…”

“Alright, but we’re only napping for a little. We still need to get dinner ready.” You reminded him, but you were only met with the gentle sound of his snoring as he passed out on you.

[lazycats-stuff]

Hey cats, I was the one who sent you that anon that's alright with me, I don't mind but is an gen z reader yeeted to the dc verse be okay? I could picture Bruce almost growing white hair because of reader who is an epitome of ✨unhealthy coping mechanism✨

Oh yeah, a reader just yeeted in there... Some universe doing some shit and Bruce adopts him... While also losing his mind. I love it. Lets go. It's a bit short, but... I like it.

Summary: (Y/N) is Gen Z. Bruce is loosing his mind.

Warnings: unhealthy coping mechanisms, Gen Z ones at that.

Bruce knew that each generation is different. They have different opinions, don't like to be told what to do exactly, although that's more specific to the newer generations. That is something that Bruce knew all to well. Gen Z wanting to have a balance between work and personal business. Bruce could respect that. But one other thing that shocked Bruce about Gen Z is the fact they have so many unhealthy coping mechanisms.

How would Bruce know?

He has adopted a teen who simply got, according to Jason and other younger heroes, yeeted into their universe. Universe where Justice League and it's heroes are real. And where DC comic universe is real. (Y/N) was forced to explain to the entire Justice League what DC is, what does it contain. And that has only applied to comic books. Then he had to explain cartoons, movies, video games... Absolutely everything.

Bruce found it to be interesting, the entire multiverse essentially, all of them are carefully planned out... Bruce found them to also be a great source of information. What to avoid, what to do... It was an incredible well of information and has decided to investigate this even more.

And while doing so, keep (Y/N) close to make sure that he has the information he needs.

And while (Y/N) is a nice kid, he has some unhealthy... Coping mechanisms as he calls them.

First one being jokes. Humor is something that can help a person if they feel down. Or if they simply want to deflect. And (Y/N)'s sense of humor is rather... Dark, to say the very least. Bruce would more often than not get gray hairs if he heard (Y/N) joking about his will to live being gone. He knows that (Y/N) is not suicidal... Right?

Humor is simply used to deflect... Right?

Bruce didn't quite like how (Y/N) was chronically online. Sure, teens spend time on their phone, but this is borderline an addiction. Bruce has tried to solve the problem with putting restrictions, taking the phone away. Put settings that don't allow (Y/N) to be online from certain times. That was to try to make (Y/N) sleep better, since he's clearly online into the late hours of the night.

Bruce simply wants the only child in the house who is not on patrol to have a normal sleeping schedule. Is that a crazy thing to ask for? It should be a normal thing to ask for, right? Being chronically online is far from good. Far, far, from good.

Also, hyper fixation.

(Y/N) was more invested in fiction rather than reality. Which would be fine. If it didn't interfere with his life. In what way, I might hear you asking? He's been neglecting his hygiene, gets angsty and anxious if he is not near his hyper fixation. Bruce never knew that Gen Z is this... Bruce shouldn't say annoying, but this was getting out of hand. Rather fast.

Bruce had to take action.

Otherwise he would get a lot more grey hairs. Way more. Way more.

" (Y/N), go to sleep. " Bruce pleaded, suited up and ready to go on patrol, however, he can't go, knowing that (Y/N) won't go to sleep. And everyone needs their 7 to 9 hours of sleep. Besides Bruce and the boys that are... On their night job. To put it mildly.

" I'm not tired Bruce. "

A common response in the most recent days from (Y/N) to Bruce.

" I swear to God, I'll sedate you with ketamine if you don't go to sleep. I'll knock you out with it to the point you'll be sleeping for days. " Bruce threatened and then came the infamous two words.

Alright, bet.

Bruce was seeing red at the mere thought of those words. They were both taunting and dismissive. Not something to be saying to an already stressed father anyway. And while Bruce has grown to love (Y/N) as his son, he was going to lose his mind with him.

" Alright, here's a deal. You go to sleep and sleep through the night and I'll take you to see your favorite artist. "

(Y/N) tilted his head, frowning.

" Promise? "

" I promise you. I swear it to you. I'll get you VIP tickets. I'll make sure to take you myself and pull strings. But for the love of God and everything else, go to sleep! "

[saiintvalentiine]

Summary: Parrot finds out Wifies doesn't know how to dance, and tries to teach him a few moves.

Notes: we're ignoring our dads' divorce <3 a billion years ago i posted this, and it came back to me and i got a little inspired. speed written in the span of about 4 hours between loads of laundry so it's super unpolished!!! feel free to lmk any major SPAG errors :) just a fun lil romp! divider

Wordcount: 1,286

It comes up on a random Wednesday afternoon. They're chopping down a tall spruce tree and Wifies is in charge of swapping out their jukebox’s music discs when they end, because Parrot is way too picky. He's just put a new one in— otherside, a recent snatch from an Ancient City run they did— when Parrot hops off the top of the half-chopped tree and lands next to him, wings aflutter. He's already dancing along on the way down and it makes Wifies laugh.

“I like this one!” Parrot says with a wide grin. “Don't laugh at me!”

“I'm not laughing at you,” Wifies defends, pulling his axe out of his inventory. “You can stay here and dance like a bum while I chop, if you'd like.”

“Why don't you dance with me instead,” Parrot is doing a two-step already as he reaches out for Wifies's free hand.

“Nah, I don't know how to dance.”

“What!”

This is probably one of the least strange things Wifies has ever said to Parrot, but Parrot has stopped dancing in shock.

“You don't know how to dance?” Parrot echoes. “What!”

“I just don't!”

Wifies tries to shake Parrot off but Parrot doesn't let go, instead tugging him closer.

“It's not hard,” Parrot says, getting that stubborn glint in his eyes that assures that Wifies won't be getting away from him. “C’mon, I'll teach you.”

Wifies groans but stores his axe again and turns to face Parrot. Parrot grins, earwings fluttering in pleasure as he takes both of Wifies’s hands hostage.

“Okay, we’ll start with something easy.”

Otherside is whimsical and simple in it’s rhythms, and Wifies has no problem keeping track of the beats. The issue, it turns out, is that knowing the beat and moving to the beat are two different skills. He and Parrot focus on just his feet, restarting the disc over and over, and Wifies keeps stumbling over Parrot. Parrot’s grip on his hand has saved him so many times that Wifies is red in the face with embarrassment.

“Okay, let’s try something different,” Parrot says. Wifies is biting his lip too hard. “This isn’t a good song to start dancing to anyway.”

Wifies isn’t sure that he’s being honest about that, but whatever will end this mortifying ordeal is fine by him. Parrot pulls out otherside and begins fiddling with the jukebox before popping in a new disc. Creator begins, but never descends into its full instrumentation.

“Is that a music box disc?” Wifies ask.

“Yup, and we’re going to learn to waltz to it,” Parrot says, pulling Wifies close again. “I’ll lead until you can do it. It’s really simple.”

“Maybe I’m just hopeless,” Wifies sighs out, but he lets Parrot maneuver him around regardless.

“You’re not hopeless,” Parrot says as he puts Wifies’s right hand on his shoulder. “You’re learning a new skill. I didn’t approach teaching you the right way.”

Parrot nudges Wifies closer by putting his left hand on Wifies’s scapula, and then takes his other hand in a loose tangle. Wifies mirrors his posture, adjusting his stance so that they’re toe to toe. The disc has already looped twice in the time they’ve taken to set up.

“Okay, watch our feet.”

Wifies does. He watches and listens with his usual precision and consideration, Parrot whispering “one, two, three, turn,” over and over, and Wifies follows. It’s still a struggle, but he steps on Parrot’s toes less.

“You need to relax,” Parrot says, breaking Wifies’s focus. He stumbles, and they stop. “You’re way too tense. You’ve gotta feel the music, not try to strangle it.”

“Ha ha,” Wifies looks up and glares at Parrot in the dying sunlight, but Parrot just smiles. “What does feel the music even mean?”

“What are you so red for?” Parrot teases, and Wifies pinches his cheek for it. “Ouch, ouch, okay! Just, you gotta feel the music, c’mon.”

Parrot starts up again, and Wifies follows, but instead of counting, Parrot hums along with the music. The rises and falls sound so much fuller coming from Parrot’s chest, just an inch away from Wifies’s own. He finds himself humming too, breathy and quiet, trying to feel whatever it is Parrot wants him to feel.

“There,” Parrot murmurs. “There you go. Now try to look at me.”

That’s a tall ask. It’s a very, very tall ask. But Wifies looks up and meets Parrot eye to eye. His left foot drags a little behind, his right too quick, but Parrot is smiling with so much joy that Wifies thinks it’s probably okay if he scuffs Parrot’s boots a bit. Parrot is a good lead, adjusting Wifies’s position with his left hand and holding him tight with his right, while being insistent enough to stop him from falling but never restrictive enough to frustrate.

It’s what saves them both from a nasty fall. In the low light of their scattered torches and a waning moon, they seem to have spiraled too far out from their cleared out space and their legs tangle in a copse of ferns. With a whirl and a few hard flaps of his wings, Parrot keeps them from falling ass first into the dirt; it’s the kind of kinesthetic thinking Wifies has never had, but that Parrot has always excelled in. Watching Parrot fight isn’t all that different from dancing with him.

“Whoa,” Wifies says, stilling for a moment to shake off the little shot of adrenaline. “That was dangerous.”

“Nah, we’re fine,” Parrot says, pulling him close again. “You were doing well.”

“I didn’t think you liked dancing this much,” Wifies tries to frown but finds the expression melting away immediately.

They must have spun a hundred times around the jukebox, but Parrot looks as content as he did at the start. The cool night air has nipped his nose pink and his feet have got to hurt after everything they’ve been through, yet there’s no discomfort anywhere on his face.

“I don’t know many avians to dance with. It’s nice to dance with someone.”

Their waltz starts over. Wifies has almost entirely tuned the jukebox out at this point, and talking while dancing seems a little too advanced for him. He tries anyway.

“Must be boring to dance with me,” he picks each word carefully, ignoring how breathless he sounds. He’s not tired, but anxiety over messing up muddles his chest. “Wingless and all.”

“Never,” Parrot says. “Anything with you is good. The only bad part is I can’t get you out of your head for long enough to actually enjoy it.”

Wifies snorts and stumbles, and Parrot bears his weight with a chuckle. They slow down, out of sync with Creator but in sync with each other still.

“We’ll try to get you into it next time,” Parrot says, squeezing Wifies’s hand. “Teach you a few new steps.”

“You should start wearing steel toed boots,” Wifies feels his anxiety unravel slowly.

“Maybe. But you’re really not that bad.”

“You’ve been compensating for my mistakes.”

“That’s what dance partners are supposed to do,” Parrot draws them into a proper stop. “It’s not about getting it perfect, it’s about feeling good.”

Parrot drops his arm from Wifies’s shoulder and steps back. Wifies mirrors him, their fingers still intertwined. Parrot’s bows, spreading and tipping his wings forward in an impressive, wide display of colored feathers. Wifies doesn’t have any feathers to preen, but he still bows in turn once Parrot stands.

“Thank you for teaching me,” Wifies says.

“Thank you for dancing with me.”

Wifies still isn’t sure that there’s any hope for him when it comes to dancing, but it won’t be a problem as long as Parrot enjoys indulging him anyway.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Nnoitra Gilga thinks Tousen is pathetic, weak, and a coward.

He also thinks, though he'd never say it out loud, that Grimmjow is maybe kinda sorta half-right about him having teeth somewhere in there and that the shinigami is a looming menace.

Nnoitra is great at holding mutually exclusive opinions because the amount of thought he gives them begins and ends with if the words he's saying will give him an advantage in whatever argument he's having.

Nnoitra can't take the guy seriously- he's even shorter than Ulquiorra, an arrancar Nnoitra is reasonably sure he could stuff into a suitcase if needed. He looks like a bug from where Nnoitra towers over him.

...On the other hand, Tousen is 5'3" and a Captain. Nnoitra's seen just enough of what they can do to know that while someone might be able to GET the job by dumb luck or nepotism, KEEPING it is a matter of strength and brutality. He's also seen the hole Barragan tries to hide with his crown and the way Nel used to politely defer to his decisions, even when she didn't have to. To be able to pull off feats like that and command that kind of respect as his size? Tousen MUST have the power to back it up.

Really rude of the universe to give someone that short that much ass-kinking ability. Offensive, even.

Then again, Tousen is kind of a wimp- he's constantly panting like he's just run a marathon, or lying down for naps in the weirdest places (and Damn both Nel and Hallibel for somehow always hanging around nearby any time he spotted the shinigami in his latest Nap Hole). Tousen doesn't eat, and barely sleeps. He's a weak and sickly creature that should have been put out of his misery ages ago.

...and yet, he's still here. It's obvious that something is terribly wrong with Tousen's body- it's practically falling apart under him and somehow, he isn't dead yet. He doesn't seem to notice pain anymore. Tesra says that an adjuchas, he watched Tousen pick up a red-hot bolt that had fallen from where someone was welding on the scaffholds above during the Dome's construction and held it for a solid ten seconds before he seemed to notice it was burning him, and causally deposited it in a bucket of water. All without interruption to his delivery of Aizen's marching orders. Does he not feel pain?

Or worse, does he not care?

Can't be that, Tousen is as nauseatingly gentle and kind as they come, to Nnoitra's eye. He lets that idiot Wonderweiss and that brat Lilynette hang around him all the time, and even seems to enjoy their company? Who likes being around KIDS? What a dipshit. Then there's how he treats that ugly bitch Charlotte like she's an actual female- At first, Nnoitra thought it was because the poor bastard couldn't see what that freak looked like and it was HILARIOUS. ...But when Nnoitra decided to drop Tousen a hint just to see how disgusted he'd be, the shinigami just Smirked and said "I'm aware, Mr. Gilga. She and I have that in common." A truly baffling thing to say that Nnoitra lost more than a few nights trying to work out to no avail. Wierdo.

...but Nnoitra still has nightmares about the time Tousen came back from a trip to the desert and nearly flayed him alive for what he'd done to Nel. It wasn't a secret- he'd positively bragged about (most of) the battle to Aizen to explain why he should be promoted to third Espada in her place. ...But somehow Tousen knew that Nel had regressed to infancy instead of dying and he SNAPPED. Later when Paramia and Rudbourne were sewing him back together, Halibel told him that they only found enough of his body to sew back together was because she was able to follow the scent of still-fresh blood through the carnage.

"What was that old saying 'beware the wrath of a gentle man'?" she asked between bites of the dozen 'spare' arms Nnoitra had lost and regrown before Aizen intervened and finally stopped him with a dozen high-level bakudo spells.

Dude was SCARY when angry.

---

The truth is that Nnoitra isn't capable about thinking about anyone besides himself. Everything he admires in Tousen- the power, the stoicism, the terror he could inflict- is something he wishes he had himself. Everything he despises in Tousen- the vulnerability, the humor, the lack of dignity in his appearance- is something he despises about himself.

It's no wonder that the closest thing Nnoitra has a to a friend is Aizen, a man whose ability is confusing people with hyperaggressive self-reflection. Nnoitra needs all the help he can get.

AEIWAM Question: What do the various Espada Think of Tousen? Follow-up question, will they, the bunch of dumbasses that they are (because Aizen made them for loyalty, not thinking), declare him their unquestioned leader once Aizen, Gin and Urloquia fork off to see the cosmic taffy pull (also presuming that Barrigan winds up face down in a ditch per canon)?

Bless you for asking this, I needed something to chew on. I'm going to answer these one at a time because the post would be insanely long, and how the thought of him Before the Battle of Karakura Probably:

---

Aaroniero and Arruruerie are SURE they've met before, and that they owes the man a debt of gratitude.

It's possible, they suppose. They have consumed and absorbed the memories of so many hollows that maybe they remember the face from a hollow he killed.

At least, that's what they hope is going on.

But they have Nightmares. Not of being pursued by Shinigami but of being the Shinigami in hot pursuit. Dreams of walking through a city, surrounded by humans that adore them. Names and Faces- Rukia and her dipshit older brother, Jushiro with the nice couch they sometimes pass out on after long nights- if Jushiro's husband wasn't already there. ...Memories, of meeting each other, and falling in love. How it felt as natural to look up to her as it was to gaze at the moon. How waking up to him felt as natural as the dawn. Memories of being married by Captain Ukitake, after Tousen had done them the inexplicable favor of organizing the whole party and acquiring wedding rings. He loves organizing things for people. Ukitake had smiled. Especially weddings. I just hope it's not guilt from the one he didn't get to. His husband had frowned.

That's impossible, of course. They know who they are, how they arose from the vile muck in the shadowy pits of Hueco Mundo. They never stood in the sun one late afternoon, to marry, not with how it burns.

...and yet.

There's no harm in being polite, right? They don't mind locking Glottineria in it's scabbard with an audible click when he comes into the room, to affirm lack of hostilities. Or giving him the cup of tea Aizen gives everyone at his insufferable meetings afterwards- it's not like they can drink it! ...And if sometimes, when they've been working late in the lab studying the effects and causes of Hollowfication, when Tousen gets tired and starts to call them "Kaien" and "Miyako"-

-Well, what's the harm in answering in the voices he expects to hear?

[rei-ismyname]

Logan tried to murder Chuck. What then?

After the sun set on Krakoa and the dust settled, Charles Xavier surrendered himself to 'human authorities.' He was being transported to his super prison built by Reed Snitchards and Tony Nark when...

Logan came to kill him in a very unsubtle way. Surely those guards died or at minimum suffered serious permanent injuries. What little we get of his motivation is an objection to Chuck's time as Sentinel X - killing a bunch of humans. Logan Behavior, basically. Certainly hypocrisy.

Pretty stylish entrance though, The Shining style. He's just about to gut him after Chuck declines explaining himself or speaking at all. Keep in mind resurrection Protocols just phased into another dimension - Logan is aiming to kill Xavier permanently (comic book permanent obviously) here despite the fact he's going to prison for life. He'd actually be subverting punitive state justice here.

I hardly need to say that this is pretty extreme for Logan. He's killed countless people, but for the last few decades he's worshipped the ground Charles walks on. After AvX, when Chuck committed suicide by Phoenix, Logan appointed himself the custodian of 'the dream' and ran the school (though he renamed it after Jean because he's a creepy and petty man.) Cyclops is often held up as Chuck's heir, but I think Logan is just as much. (Though Jean and Storm beat them both out and surpass him.) Maybe this is a hypocritical broken pedestal moment.

Magneto objects, freezing him in place and proclaiming 'no more martyrs.'

Did you know 9/10 failed murderers say 'cripes?'

Then he yeets him out of the prison and levitates it so he can't get back in. Mags and Chuck have a chat and we see nothing of Logan until Wolverine #1.

These people all need therapy. Emotional intelligence so low.

That murderous unilateral motivation seems to have cooled - 'Charles doin' what he did' is third on his list of things that took their toll. Not to minimise his pain, but everyone else has experienced those things too. Many had it worse. Scott, for example, was tortured for six months with his eyes sewn shut and a broken back (which... healed somehow.) If someone else was doing this he'd call them out at best, more likely he'd tell them to get over it. This is #Logan Behavior, though it's weird he doesn't mention Daken's death.

I'm 99% sure this is next chronologically. Scott says Logan was 'in the area so he asked him to investigate' - 'the area' being Santo Marco, a fictional South American country that Magneto briefly conquered in 1963. The X-Men answered his distress call.

No mention of Chuck here, and he greets Scott warmly. No thank you though. They patch him up back at the Factory. Looks like he does have use for X-Men.

Wolverine can absolutely give up. It's his thing.

From 'I never should have left the woods' this has to be after Wolverine #1, but before Uncanny X-Men #1-4, because that takes place over a few days and the phone call between Rogue and Scott implies so. We only get the end of this conversation, but it's very safe to assume it was a soft recruitment offer and assumption of a family relationship. No mention of Chuck here either. He claims he's done, citing Krakoa as a loss. It is a loss, but it also bought back the 16 million Genoshan dead and established a mutant paradise in a heaven dimension - one he could have gone to.

Also, Logan didn't build shit. He had nothing to do with Genosha, in fact he opposed and obstructed it. He bailed on Utopia and the narrative kept genocidal threats away from the school. He had little to do with building Krakoa itself and while he went on the missions he was asked to, he remained a skeptic the entire time. He didn't trust the island and lived on the moon in a polycule. Anyway, he tells Scott not to come looking for him. I promise you he wouldn't say that to Jean.

She's right, they're not strategists.

Looks like he's fine hanging out with Rogue and Gambit. Rogue seemed fine with joining Cyclops and co, but doesn't argue at all when Logan (who is hours away from leaving and has no intention of staying) shoots it down for... reasons? They were X-Men enough when they rescued him from Santo Marco, ingrate.

Neither should struggle to imagine a community 'run' by Scott Summers. Logan has been living with him for at least 3 years and he wasn't everywhere when Logan and Jean were banging. Rogue was on a Krakoan X-Men team with Scott and he and Jean prepped new leaders and stepped back. They all considered themselves Krakoan and Scott 'lived to serve.' How does it end this way? The Chuck question answers itself, though Logan doesn't say 'I wish Magneto didn't stop me killing him' or something. Scott? Uhhh, you took this misanthrope's grumbling as gospel. Go to Alaska and say hi! Or maybe he'll call you. Kate? Uhm, she just told you. She broke in Fall of X, you know this.

Interestingly, Logan uses the term 'fill Chuck's chair.' I thought he was quitting the parts that don't work? 'Why do you even want to?' should be self explanatory. Rogue receives a phone call after this from Scott, and she says he's 'the last person she wants to speak to.' Maybe Logan is right and he shouldn't be around people. He infected Rogue with Scott haterism very quickly.

The Outliers show up and less than a day later he leaves, heading for the nearest forest. Even the swamp hag that guts him thinks he's a whining bitch. Logan is aware that Rogue's group are planning a prison break, that children are being hunted, though it doesn't stop him leaving.

Put all this together and it paints a very human portrait of a traumatized person pushing everyone away, albeit in the most immature way possible. This is what Magneto referred to when he said Logan Behavior, and he's right. If I was talking about a real life person it'd be unforgivably callous, but I'm not. I wrote this piece to interrogate his continuity from Krakoa to FTA, and I was expecting it to make less sense to be honest. As I said, this is textbook trauma response. It portrays that well, but the whiplash of Logan going from 'murder Chuck no matter the collateral damage' to 'Chuck did bad things but Cyclops is worse - don't be friends with him, Rogue' is severe and unsatisfying.

Uncanny #700 was one of the last things written for Krakoa, so it's likely that information wasn't available for FTA writers. Except Logan and Kate had both sworn they'd kill Chuck with plenty of notice, so I don't think that deserves a pass. Is anyone surprised by this? Maybe I should just write a post that says 'From The Ashes doesn't care about smooth continuity and has clumsily broken up these teams by fiat. Just ask Havok, Polaris, Angel, Storm, Omega Red, Jubilee and Shogo, etc etc. Also, it's pretty fucking mid' and pin it on my Tumblr.

That's no fun though. Even when it sucks, when it's safe and nostalgic, when everything you loved has been swept away and replaced with cardboard cutouts, when it's 'fine I guess', and even when it's great; the play's the thing. I love the X-Men and fans have as much ownership of the story as anyone. Not entitlement, just the right to be a part of the narrative, close to the characters. I find it fun and if I ever don't I'll stop (or spend a few years covering Krakoa). I hope you do too. Importantly, you should be critical of the things you love in good faith. As for Marvel the capitalist entity - all bets are off. Fuck em. They do it for the money, we do it for the love.

[electrosuite]

aight so i recently learned that i think only like 30% of afab people orgasm with penetrative sex alone, so i was wondering if you could do something where fem!y/n has her first penetrative orgasm with peter? thanks!

warnings: swearing, descriptive sex, oral sex

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

Your body pressed between Peter and his bedroom door made your palms sweaty. He kissed you so much more gently and lovingly than anyone you'd ever been with, but he was so passionate about it.

He held your face in place with his hands to make sure you didn't go anywhere, and you gripped his sides to pull him in close.

In a split second, he scooped you up and wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands settling midway up the underneath of your thighs. You couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of falling onto his bed with him on top of you, bouncing a bit as you landed.

You adjusted the pillow under your head as his lips trailed down to your jaw and neck. His fingers pressed into your thigh, which was against his ribs.

You two had never been this intimate before. In fact, it was the first time you'd hung out while no one else was home. But, just to be safe, he still shut and locked his door. His Aunt May had a bad habit of walking in without knocking, so he made sure to take extra precautions.

So you were understandably beginning to get nervous. This wasn't your first time, but the first time with anyone was scary for you. You were more excited than anything.

You two had been officially dating for two months now, but you hadn't had any time to be alone together until now. So you had to take advantage of it.

You knew Peter was Spider-Man since the first week you knew each other. You came over to work on a group project that you'd been paired up on, and he'd accidentally left his mask out. He tried to play it off as being a "fan-made replica", but you saw right through that.

So it was no surprise when he swung over to your apartment and brought you back to his place today.

Peter reached up to his neckline and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor. You looked down and studied his body, noticing an almost healed cut right under his nipple, and you pointed to it.

"Does that hurt?"

He shook his head. "Only if I accidentally hit it." He didn't break eye contact as he slipped his fingers under your shirt, wordlessly asking for your permission to remove it.

Instead of answering, you reached down and took it off for him. Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed your chest, simultaneously reaching under you and effortlessly unhooking your bra.

You pushed his hair off of his forehead, combing it backwards with your fingers.

To be completely honest, nipple play didn't really do anything for you, but you decided to let him do whatever he wanted to do with your breasts. You wanted him to enjoy himself as much as he wanted to make you feel good.

"Peter," you whispered, making his eyes glance up to you as he engulfed your nipple into his mouth and circled it with his tongue, letting go with a pop.

"Yeah?"

"I have to tell you something."

"Anything."

"Ugh... I don't even know how to say this."

"Just say it."

"I don't... finish with just sex."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, penetration? I can't get there with just that."

"What does get you there?"

"Oral, usually." As soon as you said that, he unbuttoned your shorts. "But you don't have to do that if you don't want to."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"A lot of guys don't like doing it. I don't want you to think you have to."

He slipped his hand into your underwear, his fingers immediately finding your clit. You gasped softly as he traced slow, torturous circles on your sensitive nub. "I'm not most guys."

"Clearly."

"Already so wet?"

"I know. It's my weakness," you breathed with a smirk.

He pulled his hand away and pulled your shorts and underwear off. You were completely naked, and you felt more exposed than you did with anyone else you'd slept with.

"God, you're so beautiful." You couldn't hold back a chuckle. "I mean it."

He returned to his original position on top of you, kissing you deeply. He slowly moved down your body, kissing your collarbones, then your breasts, then your sternum, and all the way down to the insides of your thighs.

Your hips were grinding on their own, begging for friction and touch in the place you needed his tongue most desperately.

And, as if he could predict the begging that was about to escape your mouth, the tip of his tongue pressed down onto your clit. Your eyes closed and you let out a satisfied moan.

His hands settled on your thighs, holding your legs still. His eyes stayed locked on your face even though he could barely see it due to your head being thrown back.

But he wanted to see you feel good because of his tongue. He needed to know he was doing something right.

Peter was better at oral than anyone else who had gone down on you. Usually it took a few minutes, but with Peter it seemed like it was going to take less than one. You worried it would be a turn off for him, that he'd think it was weird how quickly you came.

"Shit, Peter, I'm close."

He hummed in response, the vibrations of his voice helping you get there. His tongue was working rapidly, his jaw sore. He was doing his damndest to make you cum, to make your legs tremble with pleasure. And every second of listening to you moan and whine and every second of seeing you writhe and grind into his face only made him harder and harder.

The feeling of your orgasm building took your breath, and if his heightened strength wasn't keeping your legs exactly where he wanted them, your thighs would be squeezing the hell out of his face.

Your hands tangled themselves in his hair and pulled a bit harder than you intended, and the feeling of his voice vibrating through your body pushed you over the edge.

You went silent for a few seconds before gasping loudly, your hips coming off the bed for a few seconds before he pushed them back down to ensure your orgasm didn't end early.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you repeated quietly.

He let you cum for much longer than you usually let yourself cum when you masturbate, so it began to get overwhelming. When you lightly smacked his hand to tap out, he pulled away so suddenly that it made your body shake. He sloppily kissed your thighs as you calmed down, breathing heavily and keeping your eyes closed.

He traveled up your body, pushing your hair out of your face.

“Good?” he asked, pecking your cheek.

“Mhm.” You opened your eyes to look at him and you smiled at each other. “Condom.”

He kissed you once more before rolling off of you and walking over to his dresser. He dug one out of his sock drawer before tucking the box back under the socks.

You sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, watching him walk over. He stopped in front of you and you undid his jeans, pulling them down. He stepped out of them and kicked them across the floor. He only had his boxers on, which had a good sized tent in them.

“Lay back down,” he gently commanded, which you did. He positioned himself between your legs once more, wiggling his way out of his underwear. You looked down to see what you desired most and your mouth watered.

Admittedly, he wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, which was sort of a relief. You didn’t love huge dicks, and you weren’t sure anyone with a vagina did. You’d never had an enjoyable time with one, so you were glad you’d be comfortable with Peter. But he was still a good size, so you were still a bit nervous.

He slid the condom on with ease before leaning down and kissing you. You could feel him grinding into you, his length rubbing against where you were most sensitive.

Your legs wrapped around his thighs, your calves pushing his body into yours.

When he pulled away a moment later, he just looked at you.

"You sure about this?" You smirked at how concerned he was.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He tucked your hair behind your ear. "Just making sure."

"I want you, Peter. Please."

You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his dick, making him let out a small sigh. You guided him to your entrance and he thrust into you. Both of you moaned, relishing in the pleasure.

"Fuck," he whispered. You looked at his face, his eyes closed and jaw slack. He was so handsome, and the sight of him inside of you drove you mad. "You okay?"

You nodded. "So good."

He adjusted his position so that he could cup your face, holding it still and kissing you deeply.

He stretched you out so perfectly and your bodies and lips fit together like an intricately designed puzzle. The moans the two of you created were harmonious and melodic and they bounced off the walls.

He started out slow, almost painfully slow. You were burning for more, unconsciously using your feet to push his hips along.

"Am I going too slow for you, baby?" he whispered.

"Way too slow."

And with that, he pretty much doubled his speed. The sudden uptake winded you, a wanton moan tumbling from your mouth.

It didn't take long for you to feel that familiar sensation, but you weren't entirely sure if you were imagining it. You never came with just penetration.

"Pete," you whined, your voice shaky. He didn't answer, instead whispering 'Hm?' into your neck. "I think... I think I'm gonna cum again."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

He changed nothing, even though every fiber of his being wanted to go as fast and as hard as he possibly could. But you needed him to stay at this speed if you wanted to finish again.

And, less than thirty seconds later, his hand was over your mouth and tears welled up in your eyes. This was by far the most intense orgasm you'd ever had, and as soon as you started trembling he let himself go faster.

And, like something out of a movie, the two of you were cumming simultaneously. The feeling of you clenched down around him was what pushed him over the edge — it was too much for him.

When he finally stilled his hips, you both just laid there panting.

"Holy shit," you whispered, your eyes wide.

"Was that the first time you've ever done that?" You nodded. "Well, shit. Glad it was with me," he chuckled.

You pulled him back in for a kiss and his hand settled on your knee.

"Me too."