#like he doesn’t want to admit he cares about them because that means he has to accept the hurt if they hurt him

[pedroscurls]

you broke me first (one-shot)

summary: logan comes running to you after yet another disappointment with jean, but he's hurt you for the last time and you can't do this dance with him any longer. pairing: xmen series!logan x fem!reader content warnings: angst, unspoken feelings (logan has his reasons), logan pining for jean, broken friendship, no use of y/n. word count: 1.2k a/n: ok, so forgive me in advanced lol, this is my first time writing xmen series!logan (and idk if i'm the only one, but i do not like the jean x logan ship - i didn't feel any chemistry between them in the movies). anyway, enjoy this! this song came to mind and immediately i thought of this version of logan and it seemed fitting. song: you broke me first by tate mcrae

“She doesn’t love you, Logan,” you tell him once again after he comes straight to your room after Jean had told him that she would never leave Scott for him. You could never understand the feelings he had for Jean, his relationship with her purely physical. 

And each time he tried to convince Jean that being with him would make her happier than she was with Scott, he was always left disappointed. 

And each time, he always came running to you. The one person who had always been there for him since he had come to the mansion all those years ago. 

“You don’t know that,” Logan says, brows furrowed and his usual scowl written on his features. 

“Why do you keep going back to her?” you ask quietly, looking down at your hands. “She hurts you every time, Logan.”

“She just doesn’t know what she wants.”

“Logan,” you sigh. “We both know that’s not true.”

“If she knew what she wanted, why do we keep sleeping with each other, then? Hm?” 

You feel your heart break at his words. The more time you spent with Logan, the more you realized just how deeply you felt for him. He had become your best friend, and had made you feel welcome in a house full of mutants. Charles had hired you as a teacher despite not having any powers and while you loved your job, you always felt like you didn’t belong and you yearned to be one of them, to be part of a group like this. You couldn’t even be angry though, this was how every mutant had felt in this world. An outsider. 

But Logan… Logan had always made you feel like you belonged. He would talk to you about his problems and you would talk to him about yours. He’d be there to hold you whenever you had a bad day, to brush your hair away from your face when you were on the brink of tears. He’d always come to you whenever he couldn’t sleep, when his nightmares would take hold of him because he had admitted one night that you make him feel safe, calm, peaceful. 

And he’d always come to you whenever Jean didn’t want him anymore. 

And you’d always be there to welcome him with open arms. 

“I don’t know, Logan,” you finally answer. “She won’t ever leave Scott… You and I both know this.”

“She just needs to realize–”

“Stop,” you interrupt him. “Please, Logan.”

Logan looks down at you. “What?”

“I’ve always been right here,” you say quietly, teary eyes staring up at him. 

“I know,” he sighs. “And I’m lucky–”

“We both know that’s not what I mean,” you interrupt. “You can’t be that dense, Logan.”

He tightens his jaw and you look down at his hands to see them curled into fists. All it takes is one clench and his claws would come out. “We can’t. That can’t ever happen between us.” 

“Why?” you ask. “What’s so wrong with me that you can’t see that I would choose you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” he sighs. “We just–” Logan shakes his head. “No, bub.”

“What’s so special about Jean, hm?” you ask, voice raising as tears now slowly trickle down your cheeks. “What does she have that I don’t? Is it her powers? Is it because she’s a mutant?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t care if you’re not a mutant.”

“Then what?!” Your lower lip quivers and you take a step back when you yell at him. You can feel your entire body shaking, emotions and feelings that you had kept bottled in now coming to the surface. “Then what, Logan?” you repeat. 

“I can’t love you.”

“You can’t, or you don’t?” 

“Bub,” Logan sighs, hand slowly reaching out for you but you shake your head and step away from him. 

“Whenever you needed someone, I have always been there. When you needed to leave for whatever reason, I was always here waiting for you to come back. It’s always been me, Logan. Me.” 

“I know…” Logan’s eyes soften at the sight of you and he wants so badly to just pull you into his arms. He would never admit to you the feelings he has for you, would never tell you how much he wishes that things were different. Part of him thinks he loves Jean, knows that she can handle her own if anything were to happen, but you… If you were to ever be in danger because of him, he would never forgive himself. So, he keeps you at a friendly distance, never displaying to the rest of the team just how much you mean to him. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, voice shaky. “I can’t be the person you keep coming to whenever Jean doesn’t want anything to do with you. You deserve someone who’s going to choose you, Logan,” you stare up at him, eyes glistening with tears. “You deserve someone who’s not going to hurt you.”

Logan’s jaw tightens. “What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?”

“I fucking love you, Logan!” you bite your lower lip, your own hands clenching into fists in hopes that the action would ground you, would alleviate some of the frustration that you’re feeling. “I fucking love you and I can no longer just sit around and act like I don’t.” 

“Sweetheart,” his voice cracks and suddenly, he realizes that losing you hurts far more than the disappointment he continues to feel with Jean. “Don’t–”

“You break my heart every fucking time you come to me about Jean,” you admit. “And I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do this anymore,” you repeat. 

“Baby,” Logan whispers. 

“I’m going to tell Charles that I’ve got a family emergency and that I will need to leave immediately,” you tell Logan, moving around him to gather your duffle bag and setting it on your bed. “I’m sure he’ll know the real reason why I’m leaving, but–”

Logan reaches out for you, his hand a gentle touch against your wrist. “Stop, please…”

You pull your hand away from his grasp and look up at him, “Be honest with me and tell me that you don’t see anything here… That you don’t feel something for me.”

Logan stares into your eyes and he tightens his jaw, hand reaching up to gently brush a tear away from your cheek. “I can’t,” he whispers. “I need you to understand that I can’t, baby.” 

You nod and step away from him. “I won’t ever be enough, will I?” 

“That’s not true–”

“Just get out, Logan. Please.” 

“I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. You’re breaking me–”

“You broke me first, Logan,” you interject and turn back around to toss your clothes carelessly into your bag, tears strolling down your cheeks. You can still feel Logan’s presence, can hear him huffing lowly under his breath. 

When your clothes are in your bag, you toss it over your shoulder and turn around to see him standing near your door. You walk over to him and reach for the door handle, gripping it tightly as you look up at him once more. For one last time. 

“Don’t go, please,” he whispers. 

“I wish you nothing but the best, Logan,” you reply. “And I hope one day you realize that you deserve so much more than what Jean is giving you. You deserve to be happy, to be loved, to be chosen.”

“Baby–”

Slowly, you turn the handle and open the door, tearing your gaze away from him. “Goodbye, Logan.”

[jeonscatalyst]

Jungkook didn’t say anything about Jin’s album publicly but I don’t see anyone questioning his love for Jin. He literally didn’t say a word about Tae’s album last year either but I don’t see anyone questioning his love for him yet people want to question the one he spent the entire solo era hyping, literally keeping up with all his songs and purposely going live to watch him

becsuse jimin is the one he is supposedly dating. that's why it's different when it comes to jimin. and want to know why we don't question jimin? because jimin has congratulated jk SO MUCH before. I mean he posted jks damn BB #1 to his instagram feed and I am only going to name that one thing but we all know how much jimin has gone out of his way to publicly acknowledge jks achievements that dates back to years ago. sue us for wanting the same in return for him 🤷‍♀️

I find it hilarious how we can't say or question anything about jk without you guys bringing up jimin when we all know jimin is on a different level of emotional availability and affection than anyone else in the group, why compare when they can't compete? at least you admitted jhope is jimin's jimin. first time I see a jikooker say that and rightfully so, jhope is the only person that returns the somewhat same energy that jimin gives him so cheers

Anon,

You lack reading comprehension don’t you? Didn’t you clearly see me say it isn’t very much in Jk’s nature to do stuff like that as far as we know, yet Jimin is still the highest person he congratulates or Hypes publicly. What? You want Jk to behave exactly like Jimin before you acknowledge that he does something for Jimin? Even if that is your angle, you still don’t have a point because Jk has always been very supportive of Jimin. Go through all the years and you would see at least one video of Jk singing each and everyone of Jimin’s songs, publicly supporting him which is something he doesn’t really do for others.

Anon, listen, I didn’t give birth to you and the likes of you so it’s really not my job or responsibility to educate you on how life works. Human beings are different and show their love and affection in different ways. For Jimin, words of affirmation come very easy to him but not Jk. Jk is more of an acts of service person and if you paid any attention to the things Jimin has said about Jungkook through out the years, you would have known just how much Jungkook encourages and congratulates, and honestly supports Jimin.

Problem with some of you is that you like eye service. You think it isn’t genuine if someone doesn’t stand on a podium and yells how much he likes or loves something. You think that people always have to scream at the top of their lungs about how much they love people or care about them before you believe they do but life doesn’t work that way.

No argument you are coming up with holds water because Jimin is still the highest person Jungkook publicly supports and hypes even though he really isn’t one to do all that anyway. Let’s end this argument here because I feel like I am arguing with a 4 year old. It is 2024, and we still have to spend this much time defending jikook’s bond? Jesus!

[zukkaoru]

Kunizai + "Why do you still care?"

“Why do you still care?” Dazai pouts, petulant, arms crossed, hoping the exaggerated tone of his voice will hide the truth the question holds.

Kunikida pauses, looking over at him, and he can tell he failed. His skin crawls under the concern etched into Kunikida’s expression, and he’s already calculating about a hundred different ways to escape. He’ll run away forever and never have to face the answer to his question head-on. It would be too easy, really. He could throw himself out of the window, drown himself in the toilet, knock Kunikida out long enough to just walk out the front door—

“You can’t trick me into no longer caring about you,” Kunikida interrupts.

I tricked you into caring in the first place, Dazai thinks, but doesn’t say, because he can’t admit that. Because Kunikida will argue that it isn’t true, and that will just make things worse. Dazai knows he doesn’t deserve to be cared for. He can’t fathom why anyone—especially someone like Kunikida—would think otherwise, unless they’d fallen for his facade.

(Kunikida has seen past the masks, though.)

He crosses the room, coming to a stop across from Dazai and kneeling to properly look at him. The softness in his eyes makes Dazai want to hurl.

He takes one of Dazai’s hands into his, bringing it to his lips and brushing a kiss against his knuckles. “I care because I like having you around,” he says gently.

“Why?” Dazai croaks, without really meaning to.

Thankfully, Kunikida doesn’t offer a verbal response. He simply closes the distance between them, cradling the back of Dazai’s head with one hand, and brings their lips together.

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

man sometimes i think about life series bigb and his abandonment issues. man.

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader

contents: fluff, suggestive. arranged marriage au. hints of slow burn. you like playing hard to get and he loves calling you his wife. 1.4k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I had to deposit my messy thoughts somewhere and this headcanon post was the result.

part two here. ꒱

⭒ Arranged marriage with Sylus where he prefers to call it a “strategic partnership” as a means of appearances to flaunt that he has it all—an empire, riches, strength, influence and now a darling wife who waits for him at home. You’re not so much as a random choice, Sylus had been watching you from afar for a while and in exchange for his protection in the N109 zone he strikes a deal with you to play a simple role. You have every reason to be wary of him and know to keep your wits about yourself, but even you acknowledge that your chances are better with him. Though, if you asked him how he was so certain you’d agree to his proposal he’d admit that he wasn’t but he knew you’d consider it if he had an advantage over you.

⭒ He sets his terms and conditions—you reside in his humble abode, wedding ring always worn on your finger, and attend events with him as a pretty accessory on his arm to contribute to his image. But he’ll never admit that he actually enjoys your company at business functions that often feel dull to him. You are more than welcome to spend your days as you please so long you don’t cause him trouble, and that also means you have his black card privileges to spoil yourself rotten. Of course, he accommodates most requests you may have like sleeping in separate rooms if that’s what you wish (and redecorating because his furnishing decisions are quite bleak).

⭒ Luke and Kieran can sense that their boss feels something for you despite his nonchalance toward this little arrangement. It starts off small, it always does—Sylus takes note of your morning and night routine, your picky eating habits and has the chef make adjustments to your preference, how he sees you out in the gardens and come back with spring tulips to brighten the space and the next week he already replaced the slowly withering flowers with fresh ones. The twins whisper among themselves that he’s often less annoyed and irritated when you’re around, and their boss wouldn’t go through the trouble of being considerate unless he cares for you. It’s almost exciting for them both to witness a budding romance unfold before their very eyes and they do offer a helping hand here and there to keep things interesting.

⭒ Sylus thinks it’s adorable how you keep trying to resist him and that’s precisely the reason he loves seeking you out just to watch your resolve crumble under his touch. He finds you in the kitchen preparing a snack and cages you from behind with his hands planted on either side of you against the counter. “Hey kitten, I thought I’d find you in here.” You feel his hot breath down your neck as he pushes your hair aside just enough to lay a soft kiss on your shoulder. He chuckles when you comment that he’s being awfully touchy with you, and he purposely moves closer so that his chest is pressing against your back. “Perhaps I just can’t keep my hands to myself where you’re involved. Besides, you’re my wife now. I think I have the right to touch you whenever I like.”

⭒ You remind him that you’re his wife in title only, but that doesn’t discourage his flirtation and teasing as he allows you to nudge past him. He follows you into the common area and takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up a lot of space. His gaze is settled on you as he pats his thigh and his lips curl into a smirk. “Come here, wife.” You naturally scoff meanwhile you place the plate of seasonal fruits on the side table and situate yourself closest to the armrest, taking a bite into a juicy red strawberry as you ignore his piercing stare.

⭒ For someone who always gets what he wants, Sylus isn’t used to being defied like this. And had it been anyone else his patience would wear dangerously thin, but he supposes that you’re a special exception because he seems to enjoy the chase and claiming its reward. With one small gesture, he drags you across the couch by a gravitational pull and you squeal when the swirling red easily turn and maneuver you so you’re forced to straddle him and your hands prop on his shoulders for support. “There, much better. Comfy? This is the best seat in the house.” His gaze locks with yours, and he thinks you huffing and frowning at him is simply cute. He firmly grabs your wrist with the bitten strawberry in your hand and lifts it to his mouth for a sweet taste.

⭒ “No fair… using your Evol against me like this.” You grumble under your breath as you gently trail your thumb from his chin to the corner of his mouth where the strawberry juices began to spill. Then an impulsive thought takes over and you pinch his cheek between your fingers, creating a sticky mess on his face. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. That’s for treating me like a sack of potatoes.” He chuckles once more, his hand falling on your hip and he gives you a light squeeze. “Oh, I do have every intention of fully enjoying my wife tonight.” And by that, he means taking you out for a joyride on his motorbike and feeling your arms wrapped around him tightly as the engine roars through the streets under the night sky and sinking moon. Sylus would never engage in any intimate acts you weren’t ready for, but he loves seeing you fluster at his suggestive remarks.

⭒ As the weeks cross over into months, you never imagined that you’d be spending so much time with Sylus outside of your agreed terms. He’s everywhere in every waking moment of your life even when he’s not there physically. You’re learning new things about him each day and you (begrudgingly) like being around him—even when he can sometimes be a playful bully toward you. When he’s gone for long stretches of time to deal with negotiations and other important matters in the N109 zone, you can feel your heart yearning for him but you’d never say that you miss him out loud when you think he's still toying with you. But with the way he cares for you like you’re both in a real and genuine relationship, it’s hard to know his true intentions and keep your feelings buried deep inside your chest for long.

⭒ You accidentally confirm that Sylus does harbor romantic feelings for you when you carelessly bring up your replacement in a lighthearted joke. You’ve never seen his face falter so quickly at your words as he averts his gaze for a moment to collect himself—a hint of vulnerability in his crimson hues. “I wouldn’t have found a new wife.” He shakes his head and tells you, his voice a little rougher than before. You don’t know what to say, but you manage a soft “No?” that reaches his ears. “No. I wouldn’t have been able to replace you, kitten. You’re it for me. The only one. No one could fill the void you’d leave behind.”

⭒ You and Sylus have kissed before, but this is the first time you’re initiating it. As you brush your lips against his, there’s a softness you never noticed. His hand slips around the small of your back and he pulls you close against him, returning your kiss with the same tenderness as though savoring the taste of you. You lean back after a moment, your palm meeting his cheek in a sweet embrace. “You know, I'm still getting used to the idea that I’ve fallen for you.” You can see him returning back to normal when he offers you a cocky smirk. “And yet here you are. In my arms, with your lips on mine. I think you’re not being entirely honest, my beautiful wife.” Sylus has waited a long time to hear those words from you but you don’t need to know that right now.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How they’d react to you not kissing/hugging him before leaving for a mission…

Dick acts as though you told him his ass isn’t that fat in his spandex suit-

He’s insulted.

You always, always remember to kiss his cheek before he leaves. His ‘good luck, be safe and kick ass’ cheek kiss!

It’s your thing as a couple! Do you want to see him cry because he fucking will! He’ll do it!

Dick will pout, huff and whine loud as possible in hopes that you’d realise your error and rectify it tenfold. He won’t tell you what’s wrong. No, he wants and expects you to figure it out for yourself, which doesn’t get him anywhere when you’re looking at him confused and lost as to what he was whining about; Literally.

His mood will be down for the entirety of the day and you’ll no doubt have texts from his teammates and family members asking what was wrong with Dick to look so down.

You’re just as confused as them seeing as how Dick didn’t disclose his innermost thoughts and feelings to you despite being his partner, so you were at a loss on how to help them with something even you weren’t privy to knowing…it’s probably one of your biggest issues as a couple but that’s for another time.

Dick will do that pathetic thing where he looks back at you expectantly the closer he gets towards the door, even going so far as to walk extremely slow when he was within reaching distance of the door handle as to buy you enough time to notice before he genuinely had to leave.

When you don’t however, Dick acts like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day and will proceed to exaggerate to anyone with ears about how his lover was restricting him of his affection.

On the other hand, If you do manage to remember to give him a good luck kiss, planting an extra one on his other cheek for extra, extra luck. Dick will have a permanent smile on his face that will not go the fuck away, even when he’s beating someone’s ass, the smile remains glued on his face as though with gorilla glue.

Seeing Dick brutally beat someone’s ass with a smile was horrifying for anyone to witness but it’s okay bc he’s happy that you remembered to kiss him good luck.

Jason will immediately call you out on your bullshit.

And by that I mean cross his arms over his chest and stare at you saying. ‘Well?’

And you’re like: ‘well what?’

And he’s like: ‘where’s my good luck kiss that you owe me? Roy is waiting on me and here I am waiting on my kiss, so give me my kiss chipmunk.’

Jason doesn’t piss about and gets to the meat of the issue at hand. He wants his good luck kisses and he wants them now and he will not leave the apartment until he gets them.

You’d raise a brow at his not so subtle neediness for your affection and decided to tease him. ‘I thought you didn’t need my good luck kisses remember? You’re a big boy who can fight with or without my good luck kisses.’

Jason groans, not expecting you to pull that out. ‘I said that one time. One time and I was being a dick back then too because all you wanted to do was show me that you cared about me and didn’t want me to get hurt.’

You smiled and got up from the couch and walked over to him, resting your hands on his biceps. ‘So now that you admit that you were a dick and the way that you acted was wrong…’ you trailed off as you pressed a kiss to his lips once, twice, three times because you loved to kiss Jason whenever possible and will try to plant as many kisses as you could.

‘Thanks chipmunk.’ Jason murmurs against your lips, feeling everything has gone back to being right again. ‘Now I better be off or Roy will tease me for lingering too long-‘

‘Too late.’ Roy said from the doorway and Jason closed his eyes and silently curse while you smiled and waved at Roy. ‘Hi Roy!’ You said. ‘Hi y/n, mind letting Jason come out to play?’ Roy joked. You played along by making a thoughtful face as Jason mutters under his breath; ‘are you being serious right now?’

You snapped your fingers. ‘As long as you make sure Jason doesn’t get into trouble then yes, he may go out and play.’

‘I hate you both.’ Jason groaned as he walked past you and playfully shoved Roy aside to leave the apartment. Roy then cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted after him. ‘Are you sure you don’t want your goodbye kisses?’ You and Roy laugh together upon hearing Jason cursing him out from a distance.

Damian acts indifferent about it.

He doesn’t need a good luck hug, hell! he doesn’t need luck at all!

He’s skilled enough to win any fight without relying on something silly as Luck. Luck was just probability under a different name and definition. (A/n: Don’t quote me on that.)

So when you forget to give him a hug before a mission, Damian doesn’t think anything of it but it will linger in his mind unnecessarily much to his annoyance.

Why was he so hung up on not getting something a silly as a hug? Or was he instead more upset over the fact that you, his closest friend/partner, completely forgot about it as though it wasn’t anything worth remembering.

Either way he was conflicted and didn’t know how to go about saying any of this to you without getting frustrated over his apparent loss for words. He was a man of action more then anything so when he finally catches up to you, he will stride towards you and stop just a couple of inches and silently stare at you with his resting bitch face.

‘Damian?’ You asked. ‘Are you okay?’

Damian doesn’t say anything because he couldn’t think of anything to say in that moment and instead stays silent as to save himself from further embarrassment.

‘Damian?’ You asked again, getting worried over his unusual silence. ‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Damian had lunged towards you and brought you into a very tight hug. You smile softly and gladly hugged Damian back, not saying a single word other then;

‘You don’t need me to say it but I’ll reaffirm it anyway, you’ll do great out there Dami. I know you will.’

[klemen-tine]

No Prince Charming

(Batfam x Mom!Reader)

Anonymous asked:

Hello, I really like your work.

I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.

Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.

Sorry if it's too much.

And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator

❤

Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.

It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed. 

Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders. 

A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office. 

“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’ 

Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one. 

But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences. 

“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her. 

As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him. 

Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.  

Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too.  Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact. 

Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look. 

She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is. 

“I’m sorry Richard.” 

“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up. 

In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on. 

Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother. 

“Bruce please.” 

“I am busy.” 

“I know but Bruce, this is my–” 

“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends. 

When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.” 

Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own. 

She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne. 

“Honey, are you happy?” 

“Of course Mama.” 

“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.” 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3. 

She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign. 

For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door. 

The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion. 

“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.” 

“Is that so?” 

“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne. 

“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.” 

“And the kids?” 

“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her. 

It's good to see some of that coming back. 

Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?” 

“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull. 

When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him. 

“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.” 

“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him. 

Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in. 

“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.” 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood. 

He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid. 

Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her. 

He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around. 

Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too. 

“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.” 

Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place. 

Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone. 

He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”

“Holy shit.” 

“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together. 

Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes. 

“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes. 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room. 

Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.” 

Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings. 

Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans. 

Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight. 

“Fucking hell.” 

++++

Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool. 

She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.

Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign. 

It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids. 

“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other. 

 “Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?” 

“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something. 

“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t. 

He knows this. She knows this. 

And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others. 

It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine. 

He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.

“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears. 

“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine. 

Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool. 

“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle. 

“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen. 

Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second. 

A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof. 

So, of course they have had sex. 

Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex. 

Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon. 

Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it. 

It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return. 

Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human. 

Batman was never Prince Charming.

_________________________________________________________

Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.

@problematicreblogger

@kurai-hono-blog

@rosecentury

[mrsriddlenott]

~Teach Me, Please~

Bsf!JJ Maybank x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: oral(m&f receiving), bit of a handjob, praise kink, spit kink, innocent reader but she’s lowkey in control, reader kinda gets bullied in the beginning but not directly. Not proofread.

{masterlist}

————

“She’s like their little sister,” you heard the kook girl you didn’t recognize laugh as she spoke about you, “She follows them around like a groupie, JJ most of all. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with what she has, I would be flirting non-stop if I was with him as much as she is. JJ is absolutely delicious.”

“I think they’ll always be just friends,” her equally annoying friend giggles, the pair clearly not noticing you behind them or simply not caring, “I mean look at how innocent she is, I doubt she would know how to please him if she had the chance. She has literally never had a boyfriend, she probably has never given head in her life and JJ gets around a lot he has plenty of better options. Hell he probably doesn’t pay enough attention to even notice her raging crush on him anyway. You should definitely go for it tonight, I’ve heard he’s good.”

You huffed, stomping off back towards the couch you had left JJ on. What annoyed you the most wasn’t the shit talking, you knew people talked, especially kooks who somehow had nothing better to do. What hurt was the accuracy. Despite being the same age as your fellow pogues, and knowing JJ and JB since the third grade, you were still very much innocent. Especially when compared to your ragtag group of friends.

You knew they didn’t mind, they all loved you no matter what. Kie helped you as much as she could but it was pointless, you just didn’t know how to be as laid back as them. You had fun and loved to party as much as they did, but you still preferred a nice night in with a movie. And while part of you used to worry you held them back, they made sure you knew you could always come to them. So when you saw JJ wave you back over with a questioning look in his eyes you knew you could ask him to help you with anything.

And your crush on him had totally and absolutely nothing to do with that decision.

“Will you teach me how to give a blowjob?” You blurt out, dropping onto the couch infront of JJ’s outstretched arm as though everything was normal. He gagged on the gulp of beer he’d just taken before looking to you with wide eyes, trying to decipher if he heard you properly.

“What’d you jus’ say?” His voice was breathless as he wiped his face of spilt beer, your eyes tracing the droplets that escaped down his neck.

“I want you to teach me how to give good head.” You stated, stretching the words to make your intentions clear. You watched JJ’s eyes bounce between your eyes and lips, the gears in his brain working overtime to decide if you were joking or not.

“Like- uh.” JJ starts, his voice strained while he needlessly wipes his mouth again, spreading his legs on the coach and making room for himself and letting his knee touch yours, “Like on what though.” He arches his eyebrow to look at you, not wanting to be presumptuous but wanting nothing more than to help you directly.

JJ would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you like that a million times. He wanted you, he just never admitted it out loud because he thought you deserved better. He messed around and acted out while you and John B cleaned up after him but over the years he started to notice a distinct difference in his feelings for Jonh B compared to those he had for you. However, he decided long ago he wouldn’t act on any of them unless you did first, he couldn’t risk ruining you because you were just so good.

“On you Jay, come on don’t make me feel weird about it.” The whining tone of your voice makes JJ bite his lip, unsure if this was ethical. JB would surely frown upon this and Kie would probably kill him for corrupting you. But he was having a hard time fighting the urge now as you looked up to him with pleading eyes.

“Well I don’t wanna take advantage of you or anything, y’know?” He stutters over his words slightly as he fumbles to find anything to say, making you giggle in that way he loves so much. You had never once seen JJ flustered or worried about a girl asking to suck him off and you honestly couldn’t believe it was you who got that honor.

“But I asked you to show me JJ, I want you to teach me.” You beg him, turning your body on the couch to face him fully, placing a hand on his exposed bicep.

And his resolve snapped.

He tossed his half full beer can aside as he stood, not caring where it landed. His hand took your own hand, gently but assertively pulling you up with him. He held onto you tightly, not wanting to lose you while weaving through the crowd in the Chateau making the way to the bedroom he made his. You caught sight of the first kook girl in passing, noticing the way she tried to catch JJ’s eyes only to be ignored. Her face contorted in surprise and disgust while you laughed softly before JJ was yanking you into his room and locking the door behind you both.

“C’mere,” JJ instructed, waving two fingers towards him. When you turn to him he’s facing away from you, grabbing a pillow from the top of his bed and tossing it on the floor at his feet. The bed creeks from his weight flopping onto it, manspreading while watching your slightly shocked and confused face, unable to hide his smile. “Come on, y’wanna learn or not.”

Your legs carry you to him, anxiously messing with the hem of your dress now that you can make out the bulge in his shorts. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice draws your gaze back to his and you can see the excitement whirling behind his blue eyes dropping you to your knees carefully, leaning into the comfort of his pillow.

“Thanks for the pillow,” You whisper, locking eyes with him from between his legs, “I didn’t know guys did that, I’ve never seen it in the porn I watch.”

“You watch porn?! Oh my god this keeps gettin’ better.” JJ groans with a smile, knocking his head back and letting you watch his adam’s apple bob, “I’ve never done it before, I just didn’t want you to bruise your knees.”

“Good to know I’m special.” You laugh awkwardly, wiggling with excited and nervous energy where you leant before him. He released an airy laugh above you, looking down at you again, his pupils dilated.

“You have no idea,” JJ’s voice was breathless and his words caught in his throat slightly, “Do you wanna get started on our lesson Princess?” JJ asked teasingly, running his fingers down your warm cheek, stopping to lift your head up by your chin. You nodded, shell shocked as you stare up at him unable to force your mouth to form words.

“I need you to tell me,” He whispered, leaning forward slowly until his lips ghost against yours, “If I’m going to finally corrupt you I need you to ask Cupcake.” Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in his scent as your heart rapped against your ribcage.

“I want you Jay….T-to teach me, please.” Your eyes flick open just in time to catch a wicked grin spread across his face before your cheeks were cupped in his warm palms, tugging your lips into his in a heated kiss. Your sighs mingle together, finally exploring what you both silently desired for so long. His tongue danced across your bottom lip asking for entrance as you gasped letting his tongue fight yours, forcing a moan from you that vibrated against his lips. He pulled away slowly, spit connecting you for a second before you’re licking your lips subconsciously. JJ observes your furrowed eyebrows and the redness flooding over your skin as your eyes stay closed in obvious pleasure.

“Still with me Gorgeous?” JJ asks, tapping your cheeks lightly, smiling excitedly as he watches you look up at him. His painfully hard erection rubbed against the zipper of his shorts as he adjusts his hips. Leaning back and resting his weight on his forearms, his crotch looming in front of you, your wide eyes telling him you have no clue how to start this. “Put your hands on my knees,” He instructs, shivering under your touch when you listen immediately, your cool hands resting against his steadily warming skin, “Good girl, now I want you to slowly move them up, like you’re not sure you want to take my pants off yet, tease me y’know?”

Your breath hitches at his praise, and he notices. You whimper as you try and follow his instructions drifting your hands across his broad thighs and letting your fingers tease under the fabric of his shorts, “You like being my good girl don’t you?” He asks, his voice teasing only slightly, his breathy voice making your thighs clench, rubbing them together desperate for friction.

“Yes, I do,” His eyes immediately catch onto the movement of your thighs, biting his lip while he watches you wiggle in front of him. He twitches in his shorts at the thought of you getting off to his pleasure, moaning loudly when he takes your hand in his pressing your palm directly into his bulge. Using his larger hand to move yours to perfectly cup around him and uses your palm moving it against his shaft as he swallows, desperately trying to collect himself.

“K-keep doing that until you’re ready,” He sighs, letting you continue at your own pace, moving his hand up to your hair to fix it, not wanting it to fall into your face as he watched your features for signs of distress, “When you want to unbuckle my belt and-“ He gasps cutting off his sentence when your fingers immediately jump to hastily undo his belt. Your shaking hands struggle for a few awkward seconds before you’re tugging his shorts down his thighs exposing his black boxers. JJ lifts his hips to let you discard his shorts fully, tossing them aside as you stare into his eyes triumphantly, “Good girl.”

Your wide smile as your hands tease their way back up his naked thighs just as he taught you has him reeling, practically shaking with excitement. “You like being praised, don’t you Mama?” He asks, tugging his lip between his teeth when your fingers find his cock again. He tugs your hand upward, moaning when he presses your hand into his tip, stopping your movements entirely until you respond.

“Yes Jay.” You whine, your tone impatient as you wiggle your hand under his, making him release a breathy moan laced with a laugh as he releases your hand, letting it continue it’s excited exploration of him. Your free hand started to sneak it’s way up his body, making him jolt forward as your cold hand found it’s way into his shirt.

“Who do you wanna learn this for?” JJ blurts out, not entirely wanting to hear the answer as he tugs his shirt over his head impatiently. Closing his eyes as your nails dig their way back down his chest, part of him wondering how you knew he’d like that.

“Myself.” JJ feels the smile grow back on his face, relief flooding his body as he opens his eyes, locking onto your wide gaze looking up to him expectantly. You want his instructions, and he wants to draw this out.

“So there’s no one in that precious mind of yours right now?” He asks, letting his eyes fall down your face, gazing at your wet lips before eyeing your cleavage and wiggling hips. Trying to suppress that part of him that wants you to stay here like this forever.

“Well,” You giggle, palming him through his boxers just over his tip, loving the way his head falls back with a moan when you apply more pressure, “Right now I have you on my mind Jay.”

“Fuck, you have no idea what that does to me,” He smiles towards the ceiling, imagining all the times he came in his hand to this exact scenario, “I thought you were too good for me, why’d ya ask me?”

“Some girls at the party were talking about me, calling me your groupie and saying I wouldn’t know what to do with you if you ever gave me the chance, and I really wanted a chance.” You sigh, drifting your hand down his toned abs to tease the elastic of his underwear, letting it snap against his skin as your excited eyes find his again.

“Oh Princess,” he cooed caressing your cheek, “You have always had the chance. You were the first girl I ever imagined doing this for me.” His eyes went wide when he realized what he had said, almost backtracking before you interrupted him to speak.

“Good, because I can’t imagine anyone else teaching me, I trust you, I want it to be you.” You state simply, locking your eyes in his gaze and taking not of the hitch in his breath. In a spurt of confidence you’re tugging his boxers down his thighs, eyeing his thick, throbbing cock as it bounces free, eyes meeting his again in a beg, “Tell me what to do Jay.”

“First give the tip a kiss Baby,” You do as your told, touching your lips against his hot, red tip as it leaks precum onto your lips, “Mmm, fuck now get your tongue nice and wet and lick up the middle, when it feels right slide my tip against your tongue n’suck on it like those Cherry suckers you’re always begin’ me for.”

You laugh, suddenly feeling more and more confident as you watch him come undone above you. “Is that what you want Jay? Or are you goin’ easy on me?”

“If you think you can take me in one go do it Princess, but don’t think I’m pressuring you,” He sighed, watching your tongue wet the side of his pulsing cock, “I want you to go at the pace you’re comfortable with.”

You smile up at him as you separate from him, letting spit coat your tongue before moving to lick up the prominent vein popping out of the other side of his cock. He groans above you, subconsciously moving his hips closer to your mouth in uncontrollable excitement. As your lips caress against his red, leaking tip you slowly let spit drip from your lips onto him, watching as it drips down him and pools in the bit of trimmed hair at his base. His eyes pop from his head when you bring your hand up to spread your saliva over him, pumping your hand slowly and twisting it like you’d seen in videos. You watched his furrowed eyebrows, buying yourself time to work up enough spit in your mouth to take him fully. His lips tug into his teeth as his hips stutter upward into your hand.

“Where did you learn to do that?” JJ gasps, stuttering and twitching in your wet hand.

“Porn.” Your sickly sweet voice has him moaning and tugging at your hair, forcing you’re eyes up to his.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He states before slamming his lips into yours, moving you back by your hair wrapped around his fist. You gape up at him wide mouthed, your hand speeding up when his eyes bounce between your open, drooling mouth and your blown out eyes as though asking for permission. You nod your head to him, not sure what he wanted to do but okay with it nonetheless. His free hand jumped to your chin, tugging your mouth open wider before leaning down and spitting directly onto your tongue. Rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you moan you shiver in front of him at the feeling of his spit mixing with yours, unknowingly helping you in your previous goal.

JJ chuckles at your reaction, moaning slightly when your hand speeds up again. You savior the feeling of his spit in your mouth for a second, your eyes latching onto his as you smile wickedly. JJ only takes a second’s pause before his eyed widen watching your mouth dip lower, his fingers subconsciously tightening in your hair, moving his other to grip the bed and ground himself. Breath fills your lungs from your nose, prepping yourself before teasing his tip with your tongue for only a second before you slowly slide him into your mouth. His hips jolt forward subconsciously, shuddering breathlessly when your eyes meet his over your lashes again. JJ curses under his breath, watching you take almost every inch of him in one go, sliding your head down his shaft, resting your hand at his base when you can’t fit anymore.

JJ moans loudly when you swallow around him, jerking his hips into you desperately trying to control himself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cut him off quickly, shoving your head as far down as you can go, feeling his tip twitching in the back of your throat as you gag around him. You pop your head up, dragging your tongue against the underside of his shaft, moaning at his taste and sending vibrations through him. You suckle on his tip, preparing yourself as you gasp for breath around him. You start to bob your head up and down him, swirling your tongue as you go dropping low enough to feel his pubes tickle your cheeks, his hands moving to the back of your head to tug your hair into his fingers.

“You’re a natural,” JJ sighs, “Feel like imma cum already Gorgeous, fuck.” Gazing up at him you watch his eyes try and stay open, try to maintain eye contact until they flutter shut when the tip of your tongue grazes his ballsack unintentionally. JJ subconsciously pushes your head down, pulling a moan from you as he groans into his bitten lip, hooded eyes watching you intently now as he tugs you off of him with a pop. His hand stays in your hair, his eyes watching the way your spit dribbles down your chin, mixing with your lipstick and contrasting the black mascara running down you cheeks.

“I want you to try something, but only if you’re comfortable okay?” You nod to him desperately, ignoring the fact that your hair’s probably a mess in his hand, “Flatten out your tongue f’me,” His voice was demanding but soft still, a side of him you had never seen before beginning to come forward, “Yea, good girl just like that,” He says as he watches you stick your tongue out for him, spit dripping down the middle and directly onto is erect cock, “Now lean down and suck on my balls Sweetheart.” Your eyes went wide watching how he bobbed infront of your face. “If you don’t want to that-“

A shiver runs down his spine and directly into his rock hard cock when your warm tongue drags against his heavy sack before you suck one into your mouth, his hand tugs into your hair harder instinctively as he shudders. His shaft twitches against your face, your tongue swirlly against his salty flesh, tugging off him with a pop. You look up to him, makeup dyed spit dripping off your chin and down your chest, “Like that?”

“Yes yes just like that,” He gasps, desperation laced in his tone, immediately making you drop your head back. Sucking his other tight ball into your mouth, swirling your tongue while he shakes you slowly move your hand that was supporting your weight on his knee under your dress, circling your clothed clit with two fingers. Moaning around him as your eyes flutter shut feeling the wet patch seeping through your underwear.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” JJ growls when he catches your hands movement, his hand caress your face gently contrasting his hard tone. Despite wanting to listen your eyes stay shut as you speed up your fingers movement, “Thought you said you liked being a good girl, now listen to me.”

Letting your eyes flicker open you feel your cheeks heating up even more when you catch his gaze. His blue eyes only egg you on further, your fingers speeding up subconsciously while he stares at you with a smile. Breathing through your nose you continue your mouths exploration of him, popping your mouth off of his flesh only to immediately suck his tip into your mouth again. JJ’s hand tugs your hair into a ponytail as you bob your mouth on him, his tip hitting your throat each time making you gag and moan on him. The vibrations of your noises make his hips jolt uncontrollably, his body and dick twitching together as your spit pools on his groin and slips down his thighs.

He releases a loud needy groan when you force your mouth off him, his hand falling from your hair and clutching the blanket below him, mumbling incoherently while trying to ask why you stopped. He whines loudly gasping and gripping the bed so hard his knuckles turn white when you drag your wet tongue from the middle of his ballsack directly to his tip. Moaning when he twitched against your face, sucking him into your mouth while you eye his adam’s apple bobbing. Sensing he was close you stop your fingers with a whine around him, moving in order to move your hands to support yourself on his knees as you suck your cheeks in. You drag your mouth down his shaft and JJ whimpers, shoving his hand into your hair and tugging as he cums down your throat, filling your mouth as you moan.

“Fuck I’m so sorry, I didn’t have time to warn you, do you need’ta spit?” He asks, trying to ignore the tingle running down his spine at the sight of his cum dribbling past your lips.

“It’s okay,” You state simply licking your lips clean, the sweet tone in your voice not changing despite the more than inappropriate circumstances, “Your cum tastes so good Jay, look I swallowed it already.” You stick your tongue out to him, showing what little residue remains as he groans above you again.

“If you need anymore lessons, you can always, and i mean always, come to Papa Jay.” His breathless voice makes you laugh as you hop up to sit next to him on the bed.

“Do you wanna take my virginity too.” The burst of confidence making him cum gave you almost wears off at the look of shock that grows onto JJ’s face.

“Damn Mama, you are so fucking bold tonight, you have no clue how many times I have imagined you asking me that.” He smiles at you, his large ring clad hand gripping your thigh as it sits beside him, “Wanna tell me how long you have been fantasizing about your best friend poppin’ your cherry?”

“Forever.”

“Mmmhmm, that’s what I wanted to hear.” JJ groans, pulling your thighs apart and shoving you backwards letting your dress ride up. He rolls over you, settling over you where you lay on his bed, framing your face with his arms. “I think it’s your turn right now though don’t you?” Shivers run down your spine at his tone, subconsciously trying to rub your thighs together earning a teasing laugh from JJ. You brace yourself on his waste, tugging him closer to you as his lips crash into yours, tongues immediately starting to fight for dominance only for him to win with a groan.

“We should save your first time until there’s not a dozen people right outside the door.” Lowering his voice to a whisper as he lightly digs his hips into you, “And I think we need to have a conversation before we….move forward.” Letting his lips graze your neck as he keeps going he smiles at your gasps of appreciation, “But don’t think I don’t really, really want to right now.”

JJ’s teeth tug at the spaghetti strap string of your dress as he crawls lower down your body, letting it snap back against your skin with a sigh, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, so perfect I can’t even look at you sometimes.” The warm feeling of his tongue against your collar bone has you bucking against him desperately, hissing when his teeth nip at the exposed flesh of your breast.

“I love when you wear this dress,” JJ moans against your skin, his head falling low enough to push his face into your chest for a few seconds, wiggling it around dramatically, making you laugh before be continues his decent, “I don’t wanna take it off.” He groans, biting at your flesh through the fabric.

“Then don’t.” You say breathlessly, smiling down to him as you tangle your fingers into his hair. He smiles back to you, quickly pushing himself down the bed the rest of the way so he was face to face with your exposed thighs. With a quick flick of his wrists he flips the hem of your dress up, exposing your damp matching underwear.

“You matched your underwear to your outfit? That’s so cute.” JJ groans, dipping his head to bite at the flesh of your thigh as his hands slowly work their way up your thighs. He pulls back, watching intently as he slips his fingers past the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down as you lift your hips to help. You watch him as he tosses your underwear behind him, his eyes meeting yours for a second seeking consent as he shoves your thighs further apart, putting you completely on display for him. JJ licks his lips as he eyes you, moving his hands slowly under and around your thighs resting them on his shoulders before shoving your hips down with his large palms. He groans loudly as he bites into the flesh of your thigh beside him, slowly licking his way to your center and leaving a wet trail behind.

His hands hold your hips down hard as they jolt upward with your moan and laughs into you happily. Eyeing the way your head falls back, your chest rising and fallen he quickly speeds up his tongues pursuit of your clit. Watching you as one hand hangs above your head and the other plays with his hair, JJ can’t think of anything that looks better.

“Oh my god,” You yell, the feeling of his tongue flattening against you, slowly licking back and forth over your clit before quickly sucking it into his mouth. You scream a moan at the sensation, tugging at JJ’s hair aggressively not caring if anyone outside the door can hear your pleasure. “Do that again Jay.” JJ’s lips pop off of you into a smile, his lips glistening with your release before he drops his head back into you. Flicking his tongue aggressively against you as he licks up your slit, groaning at the feeling of your nails against his scalp when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. JJ can feel himself growing hard against the blanket at your taste, your shaking legs egging him on as your release quickly approaches.

The feeling of JJ’s tongue prodding at your entrance as you clench on nothing has the tightening feeling in your abdomen worsening, making you whine and wiggle your hips subconsciously. The grip of JJ’s hands on your hip tightens, his nails digging into your flesh as he grinds himself into the mattress at your excitement. He plunges his tongue into you, collecting your juices on his tongue with a desperate groan, his eyes flickering shut as he moves to flick his tongue against your puffy clit again. JJ pulls back quickly making you whine and tug at his hair, trying to shove him back into you and forcing a wicked laugh from him as he spits directly onto you and dives back in. You shudder when he starts to lap against you wildly, your hips jolting and your back arching, your hands tugs on his hair harder as you cum, the almost painful band in your abdomen breaking in a euphoric release. Moaning so loudly you know for sure anyone close enough to the door could hear but you didn’t care as you came undone on your best friend’s tongue, breath shaking as your body twitches.

JJ’s tongue slows, pushing himself up to get a better look at your post orgasm face, your eyes unfocused and your mouth open in gasping breaths. He slowly crawls up your body, smiling in your face and you smile back at him the best your can, he groans at the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your hair sticking to your forehead as he smash his lips into you. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue as you both moan into each other.

——————

I might wanna do a part 2 of this for their first time, would anyone be interested in that?

Another Lesson? (Coming Soon)

[cathnospam]

Continuing from This Drabble about you and your BF Katsuki answering sex questions about each other<3

Black Female Reader x Katsuki Bakugo , mentions of panty stealer bakugo, slight smut???

“Okay uh, how do you rate your partners kisses 1-10.”

“9”

“9?! Muthafucka I taught you how to kiss—-“

“You always push back first like you can’t handle it, it pisses me off.”

“I like breathing.”

“So.”

Rolling your eyes, “I was ganna say 12/10, but since you’re being a bitch—“

“So, 12/10 got it. Next.”

“Does your partner have any dirty secrets?…oooh.—-”

“M’going to bed.” Bakugo immediately gets up to take off his tank top seeing as he was going to sleep in your dorm tonight, but as the shirt clung to his semi flexing biceps you grab him, “No, y/n.”

“Oh c’mon boy are the secrets THAT bad?! I’ll tell you mine at least—-fuck.” He considers for a moment. Curiosity weighing heavier than his will to sleep at the moment, “You ass.”

“What did you call me—“

“I think…” You place two fingers on his soft lips, “One secret is that……….one time, when you were out on work study you left your black tank top in my room….and….i missed you….and i was ovulating so i….put on your tank top and ….played…with myself.”

The air was thick, it’s as if Bakugo took it as he grew closer to you while speaking, there wasn’t much to make him speechless but dammit that’s a new one.

Fuck. That’s actually more sexier than he wants to admit right now. He crossed his legs, hoping a tent won’t form in his grey sweats and noticed your eyes wandering at every part of your room but his eyes.

“I…moaned your name too.”

“You…you damn….pervert fuck—-“ His voice almost broke into a groan, looking away also embarrassed you knew he didn’t mean it in a malicious way from how he looked back at you, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down, “Stop acting fucking weird. You did it. Who cares. As long as it was MY name you moaned.”

“Of course dumbass. I only want you…”

Bakugo felt his ears burning, already annoyed he was flustered once he groaned, “I took your panties once.”

“What?”

“Why the hell would you wear that lacy frilly shit during class in that short ass skirt? It’s like you want those idiots to see you.”

“That CANNOT be the reason—“

“IT IS. If you’re ganna wear ‘em wear them IN OUR dorms you dumbass.”

“…well.”

“Well what.” He pouts.”

“Well where the fuck are they I like wearing them after I get waxed.”

Bakugo hesitates, not wanting to actually answer mainly because he doesn’t just have ONE pair of panties. But a few. “I’ll show you later.”

“Tch.” You mock his sounds, “Ever use ‘em to masturbate?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You giggle, you can only imagine what his perverted ass has done with them. And the last time you seen them was in your hamper so you assumed they got lost somewhere in the laundry. Honestly it’s kinda….interesting he’s telling you this.

“Does your partner have any no’s during?”

“I’m not calling you a bitch.”

“Aw.” You sarcastically sigh, “Why.”

“Why the hell would I call you out your name—“

“You called me your slut yesterday.”

“…Slip of the tongue.” He crosses his arms like a child, making you giggle. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize it was hot.” You say adjusting yourself closer to him, you could actually feel the heat from his body rise as you kept speaking, “It’s fine. Degrading isn’t something I’d need from you anyway.”

“I don’t get that kink, who the hell likes to be disrespected by someone they…are y’know with.”

You shrug, you understand why certain people have kinks, but it’s hard to put in words for someone like Katsuki. He’s a very simple man when it comes to relationships. Almost traditional and old fashion which is what charmed you the most about him. He never even called you a bitch before in any sense nor has he ever told you anything that would genuinely hurt your feelings, “Some people are just into that.” You concluded, your boyfriend looks at you with an unresolved look, but accepts it anyway. Weirdos.

“I wouldn’t hit you either. Like in the face or anything. Only on the ass”

“Good because my face is too pretty for that.” Katsuki smirks at you, you’re absolutely right you’re too pretty for him to hit.

“Nobody else.”

“Hm?”

“…Nobody else is allowed to join us.”

Squinting for a moment his statement clicks , “OH! No threesomes and stuff. Oh yeah of course not. If I see you with any other girl I’ll kill you and her.”

Katsuki swallowed his laughter, masking it with a clearing of his throat, your eyes not tearing from his making sure he knew you were serious. You don’t scare him typically, but he knew the moments when you genuinely had an aura about you that screamed “Fucking try to play with me.” And this was one of those moments. “You look at me like I didn’t just fucking say —“

“I know.” Your voice cracked a little trying to cover up the jealous tone you were about to spew out. Just the thought of Katsuki touching another girl had you upset.

Little did you know it was the same for him with you.

“Anything else?”

“I won’t do race or age play.”

“What the hell…?—-“

“Well I am black so obviously no and then you have age play which is just a cute way of saying you like children—-“

“WHAT?”

You pause to cover up his loud mouth with your small hands, “SSSHH! Before we get in trouble again!…anyway moving on!”

Not wanting to argue, he takes your laptop and smacks your hand away, “What is something you DONT like that your partner does during sex.”

“Take my laptop away from me.”

He strikes you and look, he doesn’t say anything verbally but he says “quit fucking around” with his eyes, admitting defeat that he won’t give you back your laptop you sit back and think for a moment.

“Eh…Oh! I don’t like that you won’t let me ride you.”

Damn it.

He had a feeling you’d say that too. Bakugo scratches the back of his neck roughly while letting out a groan. Throwing his head back a little he side eyes you, “Why do you wanna be on top so bad. I’m the man I should—“

“It’s not even about dominating you or anything you can still fuck me from below, ‘Suki. You’ll still have all the power.”

Bakugo has seen porn videos where the guy fucks up into the girl. Even some where the man is straight up holding the girl up and pumps her full. It’s so erotic he couldn’t even finish the video, but even though he enjoys vanilla sex, he is quite certain riding him isn’t too far off from what he likes.

Besides he loves having your tits bounce in his face and feeling your nipples practically bounce into his mouth makes up of great reason.

“…Fine. But when I’M ready.”

“Yaaaayy mkay….now what is something YOU don’t like about me.”

“You’re ganna be pissed.”

Your smiles immediately transforms into a straighten line, “Uh oh.”

“I don’t …like when you cum too fast.”

It was a bit embarrassing yet confusing to hear. Clearly that means he’s doing a good job so why —

“Because I want to keep fucking you.” Bakugo speaks up as if he read your inner thoughts, all you could do was blink a few times at him, and he continued more, “Even though I don’t cum until after you do which isn’t that long, sometimes I wanna keep going. I’ve timed it, the moment I start fucking you sex only last about 6-8 minutes.”

“That’s average. Some people are 2-3 minutes.” You spoke with an unimpressed and deadpanned voice mostly because this sounded ludicrous to you and Bakugo seen it in your expression causing him to sigh in annoyance. “Shouldn’t your ego be filled knowing you make me cum fast?”

“Yeah, but —-fuck sue me for wanting more. And don’t say some shit like I’m a nympho or some shit because that’s fucking disgusting and those freaks are usually only in a relationship to fuck—-“

“OKAY OKAY CALM DOWN, BOY!” His voice kept getting louder and louder and you refused to have another write up because you have him in your dorm past curfew…again. “I get it though.”

“You want to be overstimulated.”

What? Bakugo scrunched yo his eyebrows. He never heard that term before used when talking about sex.

“Overstimulated means …well… showing you is actually better than telling you.”

In an instant Bakugo’s furrowed eyebrows soften, his gaze transitioned from confused to darker and subtly lustful. You felt the vibe of the room change so quickly you practically had to clear your throat to make him focus again.

“So the next question…”

“Nah, show me.” He firmly shuts your computer and places it on your nightstand. Arms still crossed, “Show me what that word means or should I look up a video and figure it out myself.”

“….y’can.”

It wasn’t ideal for your evening to end like this with him, but it’s just you and your slightly horny boyfriend watching porn videos.

What’s the worse that can happen?

[ragingbookdragon]

It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?

He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.

“No.”

“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”

“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”

“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”

Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”

“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.

It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”

Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”

Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.

“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”

He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.

“Quit that.”

“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”

“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”

“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”

“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”

“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”

“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”

“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”

Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”

Price simply watches him.

“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”

It's another long moment before Price speaks.

“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”

“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”

Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.

“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”

As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”

He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”

[aakeysmash]

Tell me you love me

Pairing: f!reader x Sukuna Ryomen.

Word count: 2512.

Warnings: ANGSTTTTTT. An attempt at it at least lmao, let me know if I did a good job with it. A bit suggestive in the middle. Cursing. Mentions of cheating (mentions!!! No cheating in this house).

People often say that Sukuna would be obsessed with the reader/oc, but I think a relationship with him would be the hardest thing ever.

He doesn’t get the concept of being in love: at the start of your relationship he found out you were more tolerable than anyone else, he assumed that meant he liked being around you and went along with it. Of course he fell in love in the long run, but for him it’s embarrassing to admit it. He barely even said it when you asked him why he wanted you to move in with him.

It’s not like he isn’t obsessed with you: he’s obsessed with the way you just seem to get him, with the way you smile when he comes home from a long day at work, with the utmost kindness you treat people around you with and that he lacks completely. He’s mesmerised by you, by the curve of your hips, the brightness of your eyes, the softness of your hands on his body.

He doesn’t show it, though.

He’s used to being rough and redeems emotions as futile. Like he already said to you in a couple of your arguments, if you get him you get him, if not, he’s not explaining himself. Everything he does is thought of and automatically right, so why would he give you explanations?

But sometimes in relationships you need communication. He doesn’t see how intense it is to be next to someone who acts like he doesn’t care about what you want to share in your daily life. And again, he does care: if he could, he’d make a copy of you yapping and just listen to it on repeat while working. He loves how passionate you sound while talking about your hobbies, he finds the little tilt to your voice when you search for his approval adorable. He doesn’t see how difficult it is to be with him because he’s only been with you, and you’re so good at communicating and making him feel heard he doesn’t notice he’s not reciprocating your efforts.

And that means that he’s never the one who wants to resolve misunderstandings, because he thinks they don’t really exist. You were upset about your dish not coming out the way it was supposed to and instead of reassuring you it was still edible he straight up said it looked horrible and walked away? He’s not sorry. He spoke his mind, did he not? And why would you be sad about the truth?

You’re not weak, and you’re not shy either. Kind people are not necessarily stupid, and you’re living proof of that. He’d never be in a relationship with a weakling who doesn’t know how to raise her voice and stand her ground. You’re fierce in your own way, and you know how to manage his stubbornness 90% of the time. You don’t like being disrespected or ignored, and you made sure to talk his ear off whenever he did it. Not like he purposefully did it, anyway.

But as a person who understands emotions and feels emotions, sometimes being with him frustrates you. And it comes to a point where you debate on keeping being next to him or leaving him for good.

He’s not the only one who has hard days, but when both of you have one, the silence inside your house is deafening. You’re the one who usually starts up conversations, but your mind is occupied with other things. You’ve barely touched your food.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He scoffs at dinner. He doesn’t like you frowning, it wrecks his heart. It makes him want to destroy the face of whoever took the smile he lives for off your face.

You sigh. “You know how my parents said they were coming to visit us next month? Well-”

He’s silent. Fuck, when did she say this? He thinks. Probably one of those days where the thought of your thighs suffocating him all night plagued his mind last week. Fuck, he’d take a bite of them right now if you let him. Maybe he could suggest it. It could take his mind off of his own shitty day.

“Are you even listening to me?” You say sternly. He notices you kept on talking while his mind wandered, but he disregards it.

“Wanna fuck?” He asks instead.

You’re baffled. “Sukuna, what the fuck?”

“Damn, you could’ve just said no, brat,” he says rolling his eyes.

You get offended. “Don’t fucking ask me what’s wrong if you’re not going to listen to me.”

“Yeah yeah, you were probably going to talk about how worried you are and shit. I don’t care about that. If you don’t want to get my dick wet I’m going to rub one out,” he says waving his hand in front of your face and standing up from his chair.

You huff out a sarcastic laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Would you prefer me to find someone else to do it for me?” He bites, snapping his head toward you.

He sees you widening your eyes. If there’s a thing you don’t tolerate is cheating, or jokes about it. He knows it. He knows it, dammit. You’re fuming.

“You’re an asshole. Fuck you. I’m sleeping at Nobara’s,” you spit at him, grabbing the purse you left on the side of the table and rushing out the door, slamming it.

When he’s left alone in your shared living room, he keeps on looking at your front door. The silence is making his head hurt, the only thing he’s hearing is the sound of the door slamming. Did he overstep? Nah, you were probably overreacting. He shrugs and finally moves from his spot, going to put his dish in the sink. He leaves yours on the table, because maybe you’ll be hungry when you come home. You usually are after an argument. You’ll come back after a couple of hours saying you didn’t want to worry him too much, you’ll sigh saying this can’t keep on happening and that you’re tired of arguing, then he’ll hug you and everything will be alright. Just like it always is. You’ve never left like this, though.

He ruffles his hair; he’s angry at everything and everyone. You should’ve got that he’s the one overreacting, why didn’t you get him like usual? Why aren’t you still back after 3 hours? He hates feeling angry. He hates feeling tired. He hates feeling in general. Most importantly, he hates that the hands in his hair are his and not yours. He hates the way right now he’s craving your soft voice reassuring him in his ear, your sweet words covering him like a blanket; his head on your chest listening to your heartbeat while lying on your couch, reminding you that you’re there. You’ve always been there. There’s no one else for him, there’s never going to be one. He’d never cheat, you’re so stupid for getting angry about it. Why did you get so mad about it? Suddenly, he’s thinking about random stuff you said that he ingrained in his head.

I love you too, Sukuna. I’ll wait for you to tell me that without me forcing it out, mh? I’ll move in with you, sure, if you ask me so that nicely.

You picked this book because it reminded you of me? Thank you, baby. I love it. Both the book and the fact you thought of me.

Can you stop messing up my sock drawer? No, I did not hide your cigarettes there. But please stop smoking, I love when you taste like my lip gloss and not that disgusting shit you inhale. Give me a kiss so I can prove it to you. I’ll take your breath away way better than tobacco.

He smirks while on the couch, alone. You’re so cute. He wants to bottle up your laugh. Why aren’t you back still? His mind doesn’t stop, though.

You hurt me, Sukuna. Why can’t you notice?

I feel like you don’t care about me.

If I hadn't come to you, would you have come to me? Or would you just have ignored this whole argument and acted like nothing happened?

Am I just filling up a random space you leave open for a significant other or am I the significant other that’s capable of filling that void?

That night he dreams of you. The way you glared at him asking him if he was serious, almost like a warning before you lashed out. He dreams of the hurt that flashed in your eyes when he spewed nonsense. And when he wakes up, you’re still not back. Your unfinished plate is still on the kitchen table.

But he’s prideful, that’s why you’re the one that’s always trying to resolve arguments. Yes, you’ll come back. He’s sure of it. You always came back during the 3 years you've been together.

A week passes by and he's going crazy. You haven't contacted him at all, and he didn't text first. He lies to himself saying it's because he's leaving you some space, but the truth is that he's scared. What is he even supposed to say? Hey, I'm sorry, I miss you, please come home? That's pathetic. He's taking a shower when suddenly his phone rings. His heart skips a beat and he rushes out to check if it's you. Please, let it be you.

Instead it's Yuji, his brother.

Yuji: Hey, what happened with y/n? She asked me to come get some of her things for her. Is she sick?

Sukuna frowns. Then he realizes that- you're going to move out. You're going to break up with him.

He goes into panic mode. He never thought about the possibility of you leaving him. He thought you would come back, like you always do. Why would you leave him? Is it because you finally realized that you're better off with someone who knows how to express their feelings for you? Did you get tired of him? Have you already found someone else?

He finds himself knocking on Nobara's door in the next ten minutes. He ran, he's sweating and it's starting to rain. He's out of breath, and he gets his hands on his knees while he waits for you to open the door. He's not ready to let you go. He can't even fathom a life where he doesn't wake up to you trying to get warm between his arms, without you nagging him while watching a film together, without helping you bake cookies while laughing with each other. Without not being able to talk from how in love he is while looking into your eyes. And he knows that if you leave him he's never going to be able to live in his own house ever again, or walk down the street you always do together, or go grocery shopping and not thinking about you while looking at vegetables. You always said you liked vegetables and he always lied about liking them just to see you excited about cooking them together.

"Yuji, I didn't think you'd be this fas- oh," you open the door and your face falls when you see it's Sukuna. He snaps his gaze toward your face when he hears your voice. He missed it so much. You're so beautiful. He missed all of you. So much.

Neither of you move, you just keep staring at each other. This time, he knows he's going to have to talk first. For the first time, he realizes how hard it actually is to confront someone first. Do you feel like this every time?

"Come home," he says. "Please," he adds.

You look sad. "I don't think I'm going to, Sukuna. It's been more than a week and you didn't even reach out to say... I don't even know what. I know you don't say sorry. You never do."

Your words feel like knives. From where you're standing you're taller than him, and he has to look up to look at you. It's like he's in front of the pearly gates of heaven and an angel is making him confess all the wrong things he did, except in this scenario you're the angel and the things he did are just what he thinks about all of this. About you in general.

And you're right, he doesn't usually say sorry. The words get stuck in his throat and he just gapes up at you, still catching his breath. Pathetic.

You sigh, then go to close the door. You don't look at him anymore and he feels like he can't breathe, and not because of the run.

"I'll come get my things next week. Go home, you'll get wet," you say. And your voice is clear, you're not mumbling, you must have thought about this. He sees how hard you're clenching your jaw to appear resolute, your nails hurting your palms from how hard you're closing your hands. But you still manage to worry about him, worry about him possibly catching a cold from the rain. And he loves you. Fuck, he loves you so much.

"Wait," he manages to say. You look at him with longing. With sorrow.

And he feels like he's crying to the angel in his afterlife when he opens his mouth again, thorns in his throat getting tighter, suffocating him. But he doesn't cry here, in front of you, even if maybe you'd like it. You'd probably say that you appreciate him showing emotions, maybe tease him for it, but you'd like it. He'd kiss you while you're still laughing, saying you're stupid, and you'd continue laughing.

"I love you," he rasps out. The words feel so unfamiliar to his tongue, but so familiar to his ears. You always tell him you love him. "I'm sorry for being a shithead. Please don't leave me. I promise you I'll get better at this communication shit," he begs.

You still don't move, but he sees you getting softer.

"Go home, Sukuna. We'll talk about it when it's not raining," you utter.

"No, I don't fucking want to," he snaps. You're startled, and he cringes. He's really not used to all of this. He doesn't like scaring you.

"Fuck, I meant to say I want to get over it right now. I didn't want to scare you. I want you back, Y/N. Please, have me back. I'll get better for real," he says while getting progressively closer to you.

"You promise?" You ask, now shorter than him. You're a step of distance from each other.

"I promise, baby. I'll make you the happiest girl to ever exist," he tells you, looking at you intensely.

"Start by saying you love me again," you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest. He engulfs you in his own arms, inhaling the smell of your shampoo, then snorts.

"Sure. I'm in love with you, brat."

Being in a relationship with Sukuna is hard, but he loves you easily.

[solxamber]

Romance Clichés With: Leona Kingscholar

Cliché: Misplaced Jealousy

Others: Azul ; Vil ; Kalim ; Idia ; Jamil ; Riddle

it's gonna be a little series where each of them gets a cliché!

For days now, Leona had been simmering. He’d never admit to caring about something so trivial, but that simmer was rapidly reaching a boil, one muttered “Savanaclaw guy” at a time. Because you—his supposed close friend, the only person he could actually stand around here—had developed some grand crush on… someone. Someone you kept bringing up. Some unknown, nameless, faceless moron in Savanaclaw.

And you just wouldn’t shut up about him.

Leona had been sitting through your monologues, listening to you talk about how strong and loyal and amazing this guy was, and it had started as a minor annoyance. But as you kept going, he realized something deeply frustrating—maybe even painful.

That after everything, you had gone and chosen some other Savanaclaw idiot over him. And it stung, more than he’d ever want to admit, to hear you talking about anyone like this.

But today was the breaking point.

You were lounging in his den, casually chatting with him between classes. As usual, the conversation took a familiar turn, and you sighed dramatically. “I mean, I guess it’s just… this guy, he’s just… I don’t know. He’s got this strength that’s so impressive, and he always knows how to take charge. Like, he doesn’t even need to try, you know? It’s like he was born to lead.” You didn’t notice Leona’s eyes darken or the way his fingers clenched into fists.

“Just the way he’s so confident,” you continued, “he’s got this whole ‘I don’t care about anything’ vibe that’s really charming in a weird way. It’s like he’s always one step ahead of everyone, even when he’s—”

Leona cut you off with a harsh scoff. “Right. Real inspiring. Sounds like a real prize,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “And I bet he doesn’t even realize how perfect he is, right?”

“Exactly! He’s the type who’s always underestimated,” you continued, oblivious to the thunderous look on Leona’s face. “But if people would just give him a chance, they’d see all his best qualities. He’s fierce, but he’s got this heart of gold underneath it all. People just don’t get him.”

“Oh, don’t they?” Leona’s voice was low and strained, a bitter edge cutting through his usual drawl. “Must be nice to be so adored by someone.”

“Hey,” you said, “don’t say it like that. He doesn’t even know I like him. I don’t even know if he’d ever see me like that.” You let out a wistful sigh that was like a slap to his face.

Leona’s patience finally snapped. “Unbelievable,” he snarled, standing up so fast that you jumped. “You’re completely clueless.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Clueless? Leona, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you,” he bit out, eyes blazing. “You’re here—wasting your time on someone who probably doesn’t even care about you while you throw yourself at him like some kind of fool. I mean, what’s it gonna take for you to get it?”

You were stunned into silence, and he kept going, frustration pouring out in a way that you’d never seen before. “After everything, you go and pick someone else?” His voice cracked a little, and it made your heart ache. “I thought maybe… maybe if there was anyone here you’d choose, it would be me.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. You were utterly bewildered. “Leona… what are you talking about? It has always been you.”

He blinked, staring at you, completely thrown. “What?”

You took a step closer to him, speaking slowly, trying to get through his thick skull. “Leona, all that stuff I’ve been saying—every time I was talking about this person I liked, I was talking about you.”

Leona looked like he’d been hit by a lightning bolt. His mouth fell open slightly, and he was struggling to catch up, his usual composure completely shattered. “Wait… you’re serious?”

“Yes! Why else would I even talk about Savanaclaw so much?” You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “You were the one who kept assuming it was someone else.”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, running a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you saw a raw vulnerability in his eyes that he usually kept hidden. “All this time… I really thought you’d gone and chosen some other guy,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “Thought at least you’d pick me.”

The way he said it made your heart break a little. He looked almost small, like the thought of not being chosen had left him gutted in a way he couldn’t fully hide. You reached out, gently taking his hand. “Leona, it’s always been you. You’re the one I’ve been drawn to from the start.”

A surge of relief softened his features, and he gave a quiet, almost disbelieving chuckle. His usual swagger returned, just a bit, as he held your hand tighter. “Well,” he murmured, his gaze becoming intense, “then what’re you waiting for?”

You didn’t waste another second. You closed the space between you, capturing his lips in a kiss that was long overdue. He responded immediately, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer. The kiss was fierce, almost possessive, and when he finally broke away, he was wearing a smug, satisfied grin.

“About damn time,” he murmured against your lips, though there was a warmth in his voice that softened the usual sharpness. He looked down at you, his fingers grazing your cheek with an unexpected tenderness. “Next time, just skip all the theatrics and tell me, alright?”

You laughed, leaning into his touch. “I thought I was being obvious.”

“Obvious?” He huffed, rolling his eyes with a faint smile. “Trust me, you’re terrible at ‘obvious.’”

But as he gazed at you, that smirk melted into something genuine, something that showed how deeply he cared. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you, and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… you’re really mine, then?”

You nodded, and he let out a pleased sigh, holding you even tighter. “Good,” he said, his voice low and possessive, like he was finally claiming what was his. “Now let’s ditch these losers. We don’t need anyone else, just us.”

You smiled, resting your head on his chest as his hand gently stroked your back. “Fine by me,” you murmured, happiness bubbling up as you pressed small kisses along his jawline, making him chuckle.

For once, Leona didn’t have any sharp retorts, no scowls or walls to put up. He just held you, his heart finally at ease, the weight of his doubts and insecurities melting away as he finally let himself be happy.

Masterlist

[lilislegacy]

In all these instances, Annabeth is going through a terribly stressful situation, and she’s not afraid to admit that she wants Percy to hold her. The only time Annabeth lets herself be truly vulnerable, and feels truly safe, is when she is in Percy’s arms.

She craves to be held by him. And that doesn’t mean she’s weak, or that he’s stronger than her, or that she relies on him to take care of her. It just means that for the first time in her life, she has a pair of arms to collapse into when she’s scared or upset. And yes, she absolutely does the same for Percy and takes care of him too, but it’s slightly different. Percy has always had his mom to love him and take care of him and hold him. Annabeth, however, had to put walls up at a young age. She learned to never rely on anybody else for safety or comfort, because she never consistently had someone loving her or taking care of her.

But now that she has that, it’s not a surprise that she yearns for his affection. Annabeth is touch-starved in a way that Percy isn’t. And she never feels more loved or more safe than she does when he is holding her. And I don’t know about you guys, but I am so happy that she has that now. Annabeth Chase is a warm, sensitive, and emotional character. And when those parts of her shine through, I think it makes her one of the most realistic characters.

For some reason, I feel like people think that Annabeth, and other female characters, have to be cold and insensitive in order to be strong. But I think that couldn’t be further from the truth! Allowing yourself to be vulnerable takes the utmost strength. Love and trust, and having someone by your side, makes people stronger, not weaker. I personally love that Annabeth lets herself be loved and comforted by her partner. Because she can be “the little spoon” and still be completely his equal. Wanting to be held and taken care of does not make someone lesser or weaker. It makes them human. (And it goes the same with men and all genders). It makes Annabeth one of the most relatable and realistic people in the series, and I love that Rick shows that side of her.

Annabeth Chase is a remarkably strong, fierce, legendary female warrior. She also craves to be held by her loving boyfriend. And those are not conflicting statements.

[saetoru]

Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

[revelboo]

I bought this lovely keychain explicitly for my Soundwave themed Jeep at TFCon Orlando and promptly forgot all about it until now. Whoops.

Touch-Starved Headcanons

Megatron x Reader, Wheeljack x Reader, Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, and others. I just like the idea of big mechs coming undone at a little comfort.

Starscream

• Almost always the one to initiate it. Just absently scooping you up while grousing about his day and slowly feeling his tension ebb as he sits with you. And you in turn, relax into the feel of his warm hands and the gentle slide of a servo between your shoulder blades as you sleepily ask questions because you know he likes it. He’ll never admit how much he enjoys these moments, they soothe a need he can’t quite pin down. You’re not plotting against him. Not a threat. Just you and he needs this more than you know.

Megatron

• It’s been a long time since he’s let his guard down. Mostly because he knows the loyalty of his followers is a tenuous, uneasy thing. They might cheer his name to his face, but they scheme behind his back. And he can’t allow himself to really make friends with any of them. Any weakness will just be exploited. Used to hurt and betray him. You aren’t Cybertronian, though. He’s almost sure Soundwave deliberately leaves you with him, because the other mech knows how much he needs it. Slumping on his throne in those quiet moments when no prying optics are about, he cradles you against his chassis. Sometimes he tells you about Cybertron before the war, but usually he just idly holds you, his spark softening.

Wheeljack

• So busy. This mech forgets to refuel and recharge when he’s working on a new project, obsession consuming him. And he’s always working on something. It takes a bit for you to notice the pattern and realize the big guy isn’t taking care of himself. And that’s not happening. You walk across his desk to put yourself between him and whatever he’s working on, head tipped up as his vocal indicator panels flash at you in question. He might not remember himself, but a gentle request to share a meal is never refused. He carefully offers his hand and carries you to find an energon cube and something for you. Recharge is the same, a soft complaint that you’re cold and a light touch on his servos and sure, he’s picking you up to hold because he knows you like sprawling on him, soaking in his warmth. With how explosive his projects sometimes are, most Autobots avoid him. That you want to be around him? Understand that he’s lonely and needs this without making him ask? It means everything to him.

Soundwave

• What with his cassettes and his abilities, he’s never truly alone. Lonely, though? He drifts through the base, the voices of other Decepticons whispering in the back of his processor. There, but distant. But not you. He finds himself gravitating to wherever you are, the strange, chaos of your mind so fascinating. You calm whenever he picks you up, those snarled worries and fears soothed away with a touch of his servos. And his own tension drains away in turn. You give him one voice to anchor to when he’s adrift and in danger of slipping under.

Jazz

• No matter how stressed he is, he keeps that smile in place. It’s part of the mask he wears as a spy-nothing can touch him or put a dent in that perpetual good mood. Even if underneath the surface, he’s so tired of pretending. That exhaustion is always there, trying to drag him under. He can’t let that mask slip, not even around the other Autobots. They need him to be the easy, going spot of sun for the team. With you? His door wings can droop as he toys with your hair or feels your little hands cautiously exploring his much bigger servos. He doesn’t have to pretend that everything is alright. And he needs that so much his spark hurts.

Ratchet

Not much better than Wheeljack about remembering to care for himself. He’s too busy. And while he pushes himself past exhaustion, he’s more likely to take breaks if you’re about. He has no idea how long he’s been in surgery, hands a blur, but as he washes the energon off, he sees you. On the counter, back against the wall sound asleep. And then he’s picking you up, venting when you curl into him with a sleepy sound, smiling as he fusses at you. Humans need sleep. And have you eaten? He’s one to talk, but you’ve invoked caretaker mode now. You protest without any real heat and press your face against his palm and he just freezes before carrying you to his quarters to rest. Because you need him and he doesn’t want to put you back down on that cold counter as you cling to his servos. He can’t.

[mochiwrites]

Grian is a hypocrite. He knows. God, does he know it. He’d never acknowledge that fact, however, would never admit to it. He isn’t exactly the type that goes around readily confessing his flaws, after all.

He had told Jimmy he wouldn’t restart the session if he died, right after he’d been knocked down a few lives. Grian said it without hesitation, as amusement spilled from his voice like it had been paint in a can that tipped over. It wouldn’t be fair, nor right, to restart the session. And if he restarted it for Jimmy, what kind of message would that send the others? It might become expectation if someone permanently died so early on.

He needed to be firm about it—even if Jimmy’s misfortune came from bad luck, things out of his control.

Grian can’t go giving out special favors. He can’t be biased.

He’s a hypocrite for it.

It happens on the mountain, right by the long staircase made of soft pink cherry wood. He doesn’t even notice at first, attempting to avoid his personal harbinger, a snail. Honestly, Grian didn’t mean for things to go this badly. As with most things with him, Grian thought it to be a silly joke. A hat tip toward a well known hypothetical query.

But in typical fashion, Grian overestimated his friends’ survival capabilities. With their own personal snails tailing them constantly, he watched as death after death rolled in, giggling over each one (unless it was Mumbo or Skizz).

Maybe by now he should know better.

“Who would make my snail invisible?! Who would boobytrap my snail like that?!”

Grian looks over at Lizzie, both flabbergasted and impressed, “That’s—that’s devious.”

The second he turns, it happens.

(Sandy domes under their feet, a ravine cutting right through their path. Mischievous giggles shared between them before they’re torn apart, the sound coming to an abrupt end.

With a shout he pushes his hand out, but to no avail. Yellow turns to red and all that’s left are their foot prints in sand, a pile of items below.

He’s left at the top, lips curling around the syllables of a name as hysteric laughter follows it, distress wrapping around it like a ring.

He never did manage to catch him.)

Grian is a hypocrite, because the moment Scar dies right in front of him, he panics. That invisible snail wasn’t Lizzie’s. It was Scar’s. He stops, breath cutting itself short on its own blade, body freezing itself in ice. He gets a second of eye contact with the man, seeing the shock and fear lacing his expression before he’s gone.

“Oh, Scar!” The outcry is loud as it crackles with distress.

This is it, he’s on his final life now. If he dies it’s permanent. No do overs. No restarts. No special favors. Scar will die. Grian can’t stomach the thought, can’t let it happen. He’s failed every other time and this world has only just begun. It’s too early. It’s… it’s not fair.

END THE SESSION. END THE SESSION! END IT. SAVE HIM. END END END END END END END!

Grian is a hypocrite.

Whether it be out of some sort of twisted and tangled guilt, or the lingering feeling of a debt to Death that never truly went fully repaid, he isn’t sure. There is no hesitation, just a natural instinct, an ingrained habit. If it were anyone else he’d let it happen, let the game run its course.

But his choice is obvious when it comes to Scar, even when he doesn’t want it to be. He’s always going to be drawn to him, always going to feel this pull. He’ll sacrifice it all, twist himself up in however many different contradictions he needs.

For Scar.

“The session is over!” he shouts, rapidly typing in the world chat for the others. He spams the message a few times in his hurry before switching to turn the wild card off. And he does it just in time, with Scar’s snail just a few inches away from the man. It disappears, along with the others, and a collective sigh of relief is released from those among them.

He feels Them watching, unhappy with their meal being cut short. But Grian doesn’t care. He never has.

“Man, that was a close one! I thought I was a goner,” Scar laughs over to his side, drawing Grian’s attention. “Thanks for the quick save there, G-man.”

Grian smiles at him, some small thing. “Don’t get used to it,” he returns.

There’s a knowing look in Scar’s now ruby eyes, and the sun on Grian’s hair feels warmer; heated, nostalgic. “Of course.”

He’s not supposed to play favorites, not meant to be biased. He’s not supposed to interfere to keep a player alive (something he made very clear to Mumbo and Skizz prior). But existing in a world like this without Scar feels wrong and near painful so early on. He couldn’t stand around and do nothing. He couldn’t just watch.

Not when it’s Scar.

Grian pretends not to notice the glance Jimmy throws at them, a brow raised. He’s been seen right through.