#she needs to get OUT. and leave all the other idiots in hell.

[littelovelunette]

How do you feel about Pitfigher Vi x Medic Reader? (may or may not have blue hair in locs)

I don't know so much about the blue hair it feels like you're trying to put CaitVi on me :')

Binding

Pitfighter!Vi x Medic!Reader

"You're an idiot," you snapped seeing Vi enter your chamber. You weren't officially a doctor, of course, who was in Zaun?

But you did your best to help the people with what you knew. And Vi was a regular to say the least. She always had one issue or another.

She was a pitfighter. You knew it.

But you didn't support it.

You sighed and opened the door further to let her come inside.

"Thanks for the greeting, doc," Vi sat down with a groan, you could see the blood dripping from her chest bindings, some her own and some others'.

Vi sat down with a groan.

"Just patch me up, I wanna go home."

"So, you can intoxicate yourself in more alcohol?" You asked, taking your medical kit out of the cabinet. Vi gave you a look.

"I'm just saying!"

You started working on her wounds, applying some ointment on the bruises and bandaging the cuts, "You have to stop being so reckless," you said, pressing on a particularly deep wound.

"Hey, that stings," Vi jerked a little.

"Well, don't go around getting them, maybe?" You rolled your eyes as you made the remark.

"You need new chest bindings," you said getting up.

"They're fine," Vi said glancing down at her blood soaked and grime covered chest bindings.

"That's disgusting and reeks of blood," you said with an exaggerated scrunch of your nose.

"Are you always this much reproachful with all your other patients?" Vi asked, crossing her arms.

You looked away, not answering her as you took out some bandages to help her do her chest bindings.

Vi seemed to be waiting for your answer though.

"Keep the silence up and I'd start thinking you're a little... Fond of me," Vi smirked.

"Shut it," you grumbled, reaching to undo her chest bindings. Yeah, you'd seen her naked. You didn't care about neither did she.

Vi assumed you've seen a lot of your patients naked before so it probably wasn't a big deal for you.

It was true, but you only wished your other patients had been so muscular, jocked up and hot as her. You tried to keep it professional with Vi however, no matter how hot you thought she was. She was absolutely fine, head to toe.

Your hands worked efficiently undoing the chest binding to let her breasts breathe. "You should take a shower," you said walking away to grab a clean towel for her.

Your fingers brushed against hers only slightly when you handed her the fuzzy white towel which she took with a grateful nod.

"Show me to the bathroom?" Vi got up, swinging the towel over her shoulder as she followed you out of the cheap infirmary, and to a strangely pretty yet minimalistic bathroom.

"I'll leave some clothes out here for you, okay?" You smiled softly.

"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

"Don't sweat it," you said.

"It's pretty nice actually, how do you even pay rent for all this and your apartment?" Vi asked, stepping in the shower room and examining the toiletries.

"Yeah, well, it's a breeze really when you're so focused and hell bent on fixing every little injury Zaunites sustain," you chuckled.

"Thank you for your service," Vi mock bowed.

You rolled your eyes, "Enjoy the shower," you closed the door behind yourself.

"Will do!" Vi called back.

As you walked down the hall, you could hear the sound of the shower running. You were happy Vi had this one place after her brutal breakup with Caitlyn. She could always count on you for staying over, getting patched up, a nice warm shower and a meal worth eating. You were happy to provide and never expected anything else in return.

As you put your medical supplies away, you heard soft footsteps and you knew it was Vi, she smelled fresher, you could say just by taking a look at her. Water dripped down her fiery reddish hair making you sigh with a shake of your head.

"No one taught you to dry your hair?" You walked upto her, grabbing the towel and using it to dry her hair, a little roughly than intended but Vi was used to it so she didn't exactly complain.

Vi liked being cared for.

"Tell me, birdie," Vi sat down, "Why do you care so much whether I live or die in this hellhole?"

"What do you mean?" You put the damp towel on your lap, not caring as it soaked your dress. You sat down beside her.

"Well, I haven't had a lot of people care for me in the past," she shrugged, "So it feels as if you want something from me now that someone does show they care."

You didn't say anything and looked at your lap, you hadn't really thought about it that way, ever since your little sister died from Sepsis at a young age, you'd been very isolated. And solidarity gave you a lot of time to think about the way Zaunite children suffered solely due to the political disputes. They didn't choose the land they were born on, same way they shouldn't have to suffer but why did they?

Your little sister's death had contributed to your current profession and you had buried that part of your past so deep down that now that Vi brought it up, it felt raw. Unhealed.

"I guess I didn't realise," you said, your voice a faint whisper, "I didn't realise along the way I didn't lose a lot like most others did. I only lost my sister and that made me lose a part of myself and I've been desperately seeking validation unknowingly by helping others."

You stopped speaking, Vi's blue-eyed gaze on you wasnt firm and wary like usual instead it was soft and mixed with understandable concern. Her hand rested on top of your, she knew all too well the pain of losing a younger sister. Although, Jinx wasn't dead yet, there was an unbelievable amount of madness circulating in her brain that now Vi blamed herself for.

"And I've been trying to piece myself together by doing what I do, and I'm unsure if it's a healthy coping mechanism," you looked up at Vi, "I don't want anyone to have to worry about seeking proper, affordable medical help ever again in Zaun."

Vi nodded, eyebrows curling up slightly as she pulled you closer in a side embrace.

"Even if that be a nine-year-old older sister just trying to save her dying younger one," you blinked and a few warm tears tricked down your cheeks.

"Oh, dear," Vi pulled you in for a hug.

You both remained in that position for quite a while and that mattered only in that time. Her hug was surprisingly warm and well practised. You could've gotten used to the feeling. But then Vi shifted, her hand placing on your back.

"I'm here for you now, okay?"

"Mhm," you shifted closer, "Thanks."

After a while when the tension in the air had subsided, you got up slowly and wiped your tears away. You were ready to help Vi do her chest bindings now, you had to be. Other patients would be coming in any second.

"Let's do those chest bindings, yeah?" You grabbed the fresh bandages and Vi nodded, taking the shirt she'd put on temporarily off, letting you help her.

A few days passed since you had your mini breakdown in front of Vi and to be fair, it only bonded the both of you over similar trauma. One of your busy days at the infirmary, when you were moving supply boxes you came across a card that was left at your place by Vi, it was small and scrappy and the words read 'Whenever you get to this, meet me at my place? 6 pm is fine.' You smiled mentally seeing the card and quickly pocketed it so you could aid to your patients.

Upon arrival at her doorstep, you were a little nervous. Vi had never really seen you out of your white apron, and this was a first time. You dressed up a little for Vi even, and did your hair. A girl can fantasize.

"Well, look who it is," Vi smiled, opening the door, "Looking gorgeous as always, doc."

"Oh, thanks for the flattery," you let Vi kiss your hand dramatically and lead you inside.

"What's with the note card? You couldn't tell me you wanted me to come over at yours in person?" You sat down on the couch.

"Nah, I prefer old school."

Her apartment seemed cleaner than the last time you'd helped her back there after you had patched her up. There were no more booze bottles laying all over the floor, and it didn't smell like someone died and was left to rot there.

It was actually humane.

Seeing Vi cleaned up moved something in you and you felt proud of her. She had managed to put the Caitlyn breakup behind herself and finally get a move. You were thrilled for her, you were so proud.

As you watched Vi taking a seat beside you, you could tell she knew exactly what was on your mind. Vi took a look of her own apartment and then looked back at you.

"Not gonna say you're proud of me? I know you're dying to say it," Vi raised a brow.

"And you're as cocky as ever," you giggled.

"Hey, that's just my charm!" Vi said in mock offense.

"Yes, I am proud of how you turned things around," you said with a genuine smile which Vi returned.

"I didn't just call you over to make you say that," Vi said, taking your hand in both of hers.

"These past few days have been pretty nice, with you always being at my aid and bandaging my bruised ass up, I've realised you're one of the few people who genuinely care and don't want advantage from me," Vi said, looking at her floor, the golden lights for the room flickering in reflection in her blue eyes, "It's hard to find people who're true to me, I guess, and you just happen to be one of them."

"Vi," you whispered, staring at her.

You knew what she would say, and you were bracing yourself for her to say it. You didn't know how you'd react, you just needed her to throw the words there.

"I am in love with you, doc."

Vi exhaled deeply, "It's been there for so long."

"Why didn't you say anything?" You asked, sitting straighter.

"Didn't wanna screw out friendship up," she mumbled, her grip on your hand loosening, "Do you... Feel the same way?"

The words rised in your throat but didn't really come out, your lips parted and then closed again. You were unable to say anything because of the happy tears building in your eyes. So instead of saying anything, you leaned in and kissed her.

At first, the kiss was soft and innocent before Vi grabbed your waist, pulling you closer against her own frame. With your body pressed flush against hers, the kiss turned into something else completely, her tongue dominated your mouth easily as if she'd been doing this for a living. Her hand on your waist was tight but not painfully tight, just enough to ground you to reality.

You both parted and you whispered, "I love you," and went back at it again.

Let's just say, that's how you both spent the evening.

[kestrel-of-herran]

the gemma discourse lately...... yes she shouldn't die to further the markhelly agenda. that's idiotic storytelling. no self-respecting writer will assassinate a character like that. that's why i can't understand why some viewers think this is the route the finale will take, given the quality of the writing and the thought put into every choice so far. it would invalidate her autonomy by giving lumon license to dispose of her after torturing her, and would problematize the other relationship in a way that would drive viewers away. it's simply not going to happen.

don't you think it's ridiculously predictable if we're told multiple times that cold harbor is meant to kill her and then she does die??? wouldn't that be an incredible let-down from a plot perspective as well?

what the "gemma dying for markhelly is racist" (won't happen) discourse misses entirely is that markgemma driving off into the sunset after lumon ruined their lives absolves mark of his own actions in severing himself in a way that's narratively deus ex machina. this is the biggest conflict of the finale, not markhelly vs. markgemma but outie mark vs. innie mark.

can you create your own little slave to forget your pain for you and lock him in a torture labyrinth (mark s. and gemma are both held against their will) until he's no longer of service to you, take all the help he can give you and then murder him? i think the show needs to be explicit on this point, but it's obvious that reintegration is a long process that won't be completed until the two marks are completely aligned in terms of goals and emotions, e.g. until either mark s. is in love with gemma and wants to leave with her too, or mark scout is in love with hellyna and want to help her take lumon down. either of these options needs more development to be realized, which is what we have more seasons for, but in the finale the first step towards that synchronization will likely be taken. there will be a change of mind, a change of heart, a change of perspective for one of the marks that will be instrumental in deciding the next direction of the plot.

the marks aren't one yet -- there's the alcoholic widower desperate to rescue his wife, and the newborn prisoner trying to grasp happiness despite his limited existance. we haven't been told what memories they share, we haven't seen how they feel about them, so it's premature to declare gemma the obvious choice because we don't know how innie mark feels about that.

but it's also incredibly frustrating that so many people see this as a binary in which gemma either lives/leaves with mark or dies in lumon. i'm convinced mark and helly will get gemma out of lumon, no matter which version of the marks is active, because neither mark nor helly would perpetuate her suffering. hell, helly's memorizing the map to the elevator as we speak.

but whether either of the marks will choose to leave helly alone in lumon is the real dilemma here. there's really no choice to be made about gemma surviving -- she has to live through this or the writers risk upsetting the morality of the narrative in a way that would invalidate the human rights angle of the story.

but it is that same human rights angle that applies to the markhelly problem as well. can you create a person to give yourself "emotional convenience", then have him fall in love with another person's "pr stunt solution", and kill him after using him? can you meet helly -- with all her fire, all her fearless fight for life -- and say she's better off killing herself so you can go and live your full existance, an existance she's barely been granted a taste of? is that ethical?

[rd0265667]

Yunjin x Reader: In the next life, or the one after that(Chapter one)

Series Masterlist

You steadied your breath, sweat trickling down your brow as your grip on your katana remained firm. The blade hung low, its edge gleaming under the fading light as you surveyed the bodies sprawled across the dirt. Bandits—judging by their tattered armor and crude weapons. So much for a peaceful walk back from the village. You exhaled sharply, running your fingers along the fresh crack in your saya. You had just gotten the damn thing fixed.

A familiar voice cut through the silence.

“You know, if you keep this up, I’m going to be out of business.”

You glanced up to see Rei leaning casually against a nearby post, arms crossed and a smirk playing at their lips.

“Oh, hey, Rei. Yeah, no worries, I didn’t need your help dealing with these highly dangerous bandits,” you muttered, shaking your head as you inspected the damage to your saya.

Rei snorted. “Please. You’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen. Like hell a couple of bandits were going to take you down.”

You sighed, sheathing your katana as best you could with the broken saya.

“Come on,” Rei said, pushing off the post. “Get back to the village. I need to talk to you—drinks are on me.”

The tavern was quiet, save for the occasional clatter of dishes and the low murmur of conversations drifting between tables. The scent of sake and grilled fish lingered in the air, mixing with the cool night breeze filtering through the open windows. You sat across from Rei, cradling a cup of sake in your hand, staring into the swirling liquid as if it held answers.

Rei leaned back, arms folded as she studied you. “You know,” she said after a moment, “I have to ask—why are you still doing this?”

You glanced up, meeting her sharp gaze. “What do you mean?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t play dumb. You take down bandits, you keep villages safe, you fight like a demon out there—but for what? The shogunate still has a price on your head. No matter how much good you do, they see you as nothing more than a rogue.” She took a sip of her drink, her expression unreadable. “You could be living a different life. You should be.”

You exhaled slowly, setting your cup down with a quiet thunk against the wooden table. “You’re right.”

Rei blinked, caught off guard by your admission.

You leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, fingers idly tracing the rim of your cup. “I should be doing something else. Should’ve left this life behind by now. But…” You trailed off, searching for the right words. “Something’s missing. Every time I try to stop, I feel… restless. Like I’m waiting for something. Or maybe I just don’t know what else to do.”

Rei sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “You don’t have to keep running yourself into the ground just because you don’t have all the answers.”

You let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe not. But until I figure it out… what else is there?”

Rei was silent for a moment before shaking her head with a small, resigned smile. “You’re an idiot.”

You smirked, lifting your cup in a mock toast. “Yeah. But at least I’m a well-intentioned one.”

Rei sighed again, but this time, it was softer. “Just… be careful. The shogunate is putting more pressure for your capture. I won’t always be able to look the other way.”

You nodded, the weight of unspoken words settling between you. The night stretched on, the quiet hum of the tavern filling the spaces where certainty should have been.

The night air was cool against your skin as you made your way back through the dense forest, the familiar crunch of leaves and twigs beneath your feet the only sound accompanying you. The tavern’s warmth and the brief reprieve of conversation had faded, leaving behind the same hollow feeling that always lurked at the edges of your mind.

Your hut wasn’t much—just a simple structure tucked away between gnarled trees, hidden from the well-trodden paths of patrols and travelers. The flickering lantern you left inside cast a dim glow against the wooden walls as you stepped in, the creak of the floorboards echoing in the quiet space. You shut the door behind you, but the silence didn’t feel any less vast.

You sighed, unbuckling your katana and setting it carefully against the wall, fingers lingering over the cracked saya. Another thing that needed fixing. Another thing breaking apart in your hands.

Collapsing onto the woven mat in the center of the room, you let yourself fall back, staring up at the ceiling, the wooden beams shifting in and out of focus. The quiet pressed against you, but it wasn’t just the silence of the hut—it was something deeper. Something that had been there for as long as you could remember.

“I’ll find you again, my love, in our next life, or the one after that.”

The words drifted through your mind, as they had a thousand times before. A whisper from a voice you didn’t recognize. A promise from someone you’d never met.

You had tried, over the years, to dismiss it as a dream. As a trick of the mind. But deep down, you knew better. Those words meant something. They were part of you. And whoever had spoken them—whoever had sworn to find you again—was part of what was missing.

But you didn’t know where to look.

You pressed a hand against your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as frustration churned inside you. Maybe Rei was right. Maybe you should have let this life go. But even if you did, even if you left the fight behind, would it change anything? Would it fix this emptiness inside you?

Would it bring you closer to the truth?

Rolling onto your side, you stared at the cold embers in the small fire pit, listening to the rustling leaves outside. There was no answer waiting for you here. No hidden truth buried beneath the wooden floor or tucked into the shadows of the room. Just the same silence, the same hollow ache.

You had spent years wandering, searching, throwing yourself into battle after battle because at least in the fight, you felt like you were something. Like you had purpose. But the moment the sword was sheathed, the weight of uncertainty returned.

You sighed, pressing your knuckles against your chest as if you could dig into yourself and pull out whatever it was you had lost. You shut your eyes, letting fatigue take you to another land

“I’ll find you again, my love.”

The night was still, save for the distant rustle of wind through the trees. But something was wrong.

You stirred, instincts honed by years of battle dragging you from uneasy sleep. At first, it was just a feeling—a shift in the air, an unnatural quiet pressing against your hut like the world itself was holding its breath. Then came the sound. Soft. Barely more than a whisper against the earth.

Footsteps.

You reached for your katana without hesitation, gripping the hilt as you rose. Moving carefully, you pushed the door open and stepped onto the cool forest floor, the moonlight filtering through the canopy above.

And then you saw her.

A figure stood at the edge of the clearing, draped in flowing robes, her face hidden beneath the hood of a dark cloak. In each hand, she held a tessen—war fans, their edges gleaming like honed steel. The way she stood, poised yet relaxed, sent a shiver down your spine. She wasn’t just a fighter. She was waiting.

You tightened your grip on your katana. “Who are you?”

No answer.

The wind stirred, carrying the scent of damp earth, and in an instant, she moved.

The first strike came fast. Too fast. You barely had time to raise your blade as one of the fans snapped open, the metal edge glinting before it clashed against your sword with a sharp ring. The impact sent a shudder up your arms, and you staggered back.

Then she was on you again.

Her movements were effortless—flowing like water, her robes billowing as she twisted and turned with an elegance that felt almost unnatural. One moment, she was in front of you, striking with precision, the next, she was shifting to your side, her second fan sweeping toward your ribs.

You barely managed to parry, sparks flying as steel met steel. You pivoted, trying to press forward, but she was already gone, slipping just out of reach, her tessen snapping shut with a whisper of folded metal.

She was toying with you.

You exhaled sharply, shifting your stance. You had fought countless warriors, but none like this. Every move she made was deliberate, controlled—her strikes meant to test, not kill. Not yet.

“You fight like a ghost,” you muttered, eyes locked on her as she circled you.

A soft chuckle. The first sound she had made.

And something about it—something about the way it curled through the air, familiar and distant all at once—made your chest tighten.

You moved, feinting left before bringing your katana up in a sharp arc, aiming for her shoulder. But she was faster. She twisted, her robes sweeping around her as she ducked beneath your blade, one of her fans flicking out to catch the flat of your sword. A precise strike. A controlled redirection.

Your balance faltered just enough for her to step in. The edge of her other tessen pressed lightly against your throat. Not cutting. Not yet.

Close enough to kill.

She held you there, the moonlight glinting off the polished steel. You were breathing hard, heart hammering in your chest as she tilted her head, as if studying you.

Then, finally, she spoke.

“You haven’t changed,” she murmured, voice soft, almost affectionate.

And something in the way she said it—like she knew you, like she had always known you—made your stomach twist.

Because she did sound familiar.

The robed figure lingered for a moment, the cool edge of her tessen still pressed lightly against your throat. Then, with an almost amused sigh, she pulled back, stepping away with the same effortless grace that had defined her every movement.

“You shouldn’t feel bad,” she said, her voice smooth, edged with a quiet confidence. “You never stood a chance. Not really.”

Your grip tightened around your katana as you steadied your breath. “And why is that?”

She lifted a hand, reaching for the edge of her hood. “Because I’ve had a very long time to train. Lifetimes.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, she pulled the hood back, revealing her face beneath the moonlight.

Dark, wavy hair framed sharp features—high cheekbones, full lips, and a gaze that held something far older than the woman who stood before you. Her dark eyes were unreadable, though there was a glint of knowing there, something deep and unfathomable. The faintest ghost of a smirk touched her lips, as if she had been waiting for this moment.

Waiting for you, her eyes filled with an adoration and love you couldn’t quite explain.

“Yunjin,” she said simply, as if her name alone should mean something. And somehow, it did.

The way she said it, the way it settled into your mind, made your chest tighten. You knew that name. Or you should have. It felt like an echo of something lost, something just out of reach.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. “I don’t understand,” you admitted, the words heavier than they should have been.

Yunjin tilted her head slightly, studying you as if deciding how much to say. Then, with the same eerie calm, she spoke again.

“Tell me,” she said. “Do you still hear the words?”

Your breath caught.

“I’ll find you again, my love, in the next life or the one after that.”

The phrase that had haunted you for as long as you could remember, the words that had drifted through your mind in quiet moments, that had made your chest ache with a longing you could never explain.

Your silence must have been enough of an answer, because Yunjin smiled, slow and knowing.

“You don’t remember, it’s okay, you rarely do.” she murmured.

“It’s okay, I’ll explain everything.”

“Okay, go back. You’re telling me,” you said slowly, gripping your katana a little tighter, “that we’re reincarnated soulmates? That we both died, but just before the end, you—the High Priestess—prayed to the gods to let us reincarnate as lovers forever? And that actually worked?”

Yunjin’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “That’s about right.” She tilted her head, watching your expression shift between disbelief and wary curiosity. “Go on, take your time. You always need a moment to let it sink in.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, exhaling sharply through your nose. Your head was already spinning from the fight, the familiarity in her voice, and now this. A past life? The gods? Reincarnation? It all sounded ridiculous.

And yet…

Your fingers twitched at your side. Those words—I’ll find you again, my love—had haunted you for as long as you could remember. A whisper in the dark, a promise woven into your very being.

You searched Yunjin’s face, looking for a crack, a tell, anything that would expose this as some elaborate trick. But she only watched you with quiet amusement, as if she’d seen this moment unfold countless times before.

“Say I believe you,” you said at last, your voice measured. “Why don’t I remember any of this?”

Yunjin sighed, tucking her closed war fans into the folds of her robes. “You always ask that.” She stepped closer, her presence both grounding and unsettling. “I’m unsure why you don’t retain your memories. I’ve remembered every single one of our lives, yet you’ve never been able to recall our past lives. Not naturally at least. But some things—the important things—stay. The way you fight. The way you carry yourself.”

Frustration flickered in your chest, hot and sharp. “Then how do I even know you’re telling the truth?”

Yunjin stepped closer, and though she moved without aggression, you had to fight the urge to retreat. “You don’t have to believe me. But tell me this—” her voice lowered, intimate, certain—“have you ever felt at peace?”

You hesitated.

She tilted her head. “You wander. You fight. You search for something you can never name. But the moment you stop fighting, that emptiness returns, doesn’t it?”

Your jaw clenched. You hated how much she was right.

Yunjin studied you, then exhaled softly, her voice gentler this time. “And then there’s me.”

The words sent a strange shiver down your spine.

“You,” you echoed, unsure what else to say.

Yunjin’s smirk softened into something else—something almost wistful. “You might not remember me now, but your soul does.” She lifted a hand as if to reach for you, then hesitated. “It always does.”

You swallowed hard, your mind a storm of tangled thoughts. This was insane. Completely impossible. And yet, standing here under the moonlight, staring at this woman who fought like a ghost and spoke like she had known you for lifetimes…

Something in you recognized her.

A truth just out of reach.

Yunjin took a step back, watching you carefully. “I’m not here to force you into believing, nor am I here to force you to love me just because you did in our previous lives,” she said. “I just needed to find you. And now that I have…” She trailed off, something unreadable flickering through her gaze.

“What?” you asked, voice quieter now.

Yunjin’s smirk returned, but there was a hint of melancholy beneath it. “We’re running out of time.”

The wind shifted, carrying the distant sound of rustling leaves. A feeling of unease settled in your chest.

“Running out of time for what?”

Yunjin hesitated, then exhaled. “The cycle isn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We don’t always find each other right away. Sometimes we’re born in different lands, sometimes worlds apart. I had to claw and fight my way to you, and something tries to stop us. Someone.”

Your grip on your katana tightened. “What do you mean, someone?”

Yunjin’s gaze darkened. “I mean,” she said carefully, “we’re not the only ones who know about this.”

Yunjin’s gaze darkened, her fingers curling over the edge of her tessen. “We’ve been hunted before. Across centuries, across lifetimes. We were warriors in our first lives. We’ve been warriors in many since. And we’ve fought this person—” she exhaled, steady but tense—”countless times.”

“Do we win? Kill them and run away?” You ask, a hopeful glint in your eye

“Never.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Disgraced Prince Hans of the Southern Isles x SleepingCursePrincess!Reader || Oneshot

*feat the Evil Queen, Ursula and Maleficent as 3 evil witches.

Plot: When Hans' true loves kiss actually breaks a curse. // Or // Imagine prince charming waking you up from your sleeping curse,, except YOUR prince charming is bound in cuffs and chains and a guards big strong hand on his shoulder when you wake.

Also, Hans is having recurring nightmares of being stalked by 3 long-dead fairytale witches (Well, 2 and a fairy) from somewhere very far away (Or very far below). That cant have anything to do with this sleeping curse can it?? 🤔

Warnings: Save for the cursing- nothing that's not already in Disney Movies. Unedited. Also may or may not make sense at all.

Tagging: @asperol-with-izzy , @disney-android-foundation , @lady-love88 , @marinerainbow , and @ryantryan6969 .

All the way back home, Hans was having dreams. Or nightmares. Nightmares of sharp nails scraping and grabbing him, eyes on him, and mysterious whispering voices. He'd wake up and he'd still be half back there, he would still hear their voices, even with the ship swaying and dipping under his body and dirty water trickling under the door into his cramped little cupboard-cabin. The long journey felt even longer with these dreams hanging over him; there being nothing else to occupy his mind except the humiliating near-miss Hans suffered in Arendelle.

Ugh.

He's new~ What's he in for, hmm?

You know I don't know that, sea witch. He's no use to us anyway.

Some powerful witch, you are. We can see him but we don't know anything.

-I don't see you doing anything, fairy.

No matter darlings~ He's cute. Much better then our old one-handed captain barnacle breath, hm?~

Don't get too excited, Ursula. He could be as boorish as Gaston.

Oh don't say that. What do you think, queenie?

Whatever.

The names swam around in his head like whatever beasts lived under the sea beneath the ship. Ursula, Gaston. But then there were more.

What are you hoping to find in these baby villains you keep watching, anyway, queenie?

I don't know. A necromancer, maybe. We need to get out of here, don't you agree?

We already had one of those, remember? That 'horned king' creature was no help to us.

I'm open to suggestions, fish. Well? Any ideas in that tiny pathetic goldfish brain?

Oh, certainly none for you~

Great. Get out, go harass Claude or something.

What the hell was a 'horned king'?? That wasn't something that Hans would imagine himself. He's never had an interest in dumb fairytales, magic was no use to him. Power was power, and that came from being in charge. Being King. But... the closer to land Hans got, the fainter the voices became. As if the ocean had a closer connection to the source, like a looking glass. And that, surely, was the work of magic wasn't it??

... -then it got worse.

I think you need to leave this one alone, Hildie. He's becoming aware, like Yzma.

She was crazy, Maleficent.

Still.

Maybe its a good thing if he knows we're watching. It has been a while since we had any quality entertainment...

... Oh, now now dear Hildie~ Don't short-change yourself; you make an excellent fool.

Just for that, I'm not going to tell you what I plan to do to him.

By the time the ship docked, the disgraced Prince was all-nerves. And not entirely about seeing his dumb older brothers again or the punishment they're bound to enjoy giving him. What were those nightmare-witches talking about? 'do to him'?

It never crossed his mind once that whatever that meant could hurt you.

~

When Hans left, you were perfectly fine. A little upset that he was leaving you, and you knew his plan to marry the Queen of Arendelle- but, mainly fine.

So why are you laying in your bed in the middle of the day, now? Why did you look... dead?

Hans found his voice for the first time since Arendelle, an accusatory tone lacing through his words, turning to look directly at the dignitary that lead him here to this room. He was loud and clear, as if he was still important here. "What happened to them?"

"I believe they were cursed, sir, while you were gone." When Hans eyes narrowed slowly, the little man sped on. "Your- your brothers do not wish for you to know ab- about this, but I believe it to be the only way to save the princess."

"... how do you mean? Talk faster, or I'll have your throat slit in an instant."

Surely the man knew that line was just an empty promise, because he clearly had no power anymore- he had bars wrapped around his wrists, a short chain between them, and a guard (Well-paid by the dignitary) glaring at his back. But the dignitary spoke faster anyway; a nervous man. "I- I believe a true loves kiss could wake her, sir! I believe that true love to be you!"

"True loves kiss?" Jesus christ, that pissed him off. If he never heard those words again it will be too fucking soon.

The man looks surprised, at this harsh reaction from the prince. His voice goes pathetically small. "... Well, aren't you and the princess be- betrothed!??"

"Yes." That was true. You were. And you did love each other- since you were kids. Since he was 6 and you were 5, and you would send him letters every week even when everyone else forgot he existed.

That didn't make Hans like any of this any better.

"P- please your highness." The dignitary begged, his eyes flickering from him to you and back.

Hans looks back to you, a scowl still on his face. You looked alive, at least. Just... very still. And you never slept this way, flat on your back. graceful. You weren't supposed to share a bed until you were married, but you had- so he knew you slept like a graceless freak. There was definitely something wrong.

And there were those dreams... "The witches." Hans whispers, glaring at your form. Except he wasn't glaring at you, he was glaring at Them.

Not that you weren't used to that look on his face. That was pretty much just his face.

"... P- pardon me?"

"What!?"

"You said some something, sir."

"No, I didn't." With that, Hans shrugs the guards meaty hand off his shoulder and kneels by your bed. Picks up your hand on his and holds it to his chest. His eyes soften a tiny bit this close to you, where the other men in the room couldn't see it happen.

Goddamnit, he thinks. Its worth a try.

~

When Hans' lips touch yours in that quiet room, watched by a cranky guard and a nervous dignitary, he feels scarcely a breath slipping past yours. The only way that he knows you're alive is by the very very slow rise and fall of your chest.

In just a manner of moments, though, your fingers come to life and grip his, and you breath in deep through your nose, kissing him back. Like magic.

Despite himself, a small smirk slithers across his face after he finishes kissing you, watching your pretty eyes open up and look foggy- then confused- and he's yanked back up to his feet by the oaf of a guard in charge of him. "Time to go."

"Hey! Wait, I demand you- "

"You're no boss of mine these days, princey." The man growls into his ear, a note of cruelty in his voice. What did I ever do to this guy? Hans wonders, scowling again.

"Wait!- " That was your voice, oh so confused. Your eyes are big and round, taking in the scene. The dignitary quickly helps you to stand, but doesn't let you approach Hans.

"Please princess, he has to go. Everything will be explained."

"But- "

She cuts herself off, this time. But she doesn't need explanation. Hans watches the realisation dawn on her as her calculating eyes drift slowly from the guard, to him.

The plan went awry. Now he's in serious trouble.

"Don't worry, Y/N."

"How am I supposed to not worry!??"

"Just promise to write to me, huh? Promise."

"... fine." And I'll yell at you with every letter of the alphabet, her eyes tell him. He chuckles. Yeah, I got it.

"Come on now, lover boy. To the tower."

~

Not 10 minutes later, the tower cell slams shut on him. Dust from the roof falls down on his shoulders and hair, and his cuffs are still clamped down tight around his wrists creating dark purple bruises.

... after a moment, Hans curses and kicks a hard stone wall. "Fuck!"

-and then a familiar voice creeps into his mind again. The witch. 'Hildie'.

"Great. Now that I know you're hearing me, prince, I have some instructions for you.

And understand; if you don't do as I say I am fully prepared to give your sweet little princess another gift. One she wont be broken so easily out of. So listen carefully.

... first of all my name is not 'Hildie'. You may call me your majesty."

[lesbiansanemi]

Currently trying not to vomit over the fact that I essentially just lost almost a thousand dollars brb

[illusioninfnty]

I'll Take You to Heaven

જ⁀➴ Childhood Best Friends : Day 7

feat. Josh Washington ᯓ★ A game of seven minutes in heaven has you and your best friend revealing your feelings for each other...and then some.

warnings! : NSFW 18+, takes place during prologue, dual virgins, dry humping, fingering, handjob, getting caught (kind of)

ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3

“Ugh, c’mon, it’ll be fun!” Jess tugs at your arm, annoyed at your resistance to her suggestion—a game of seven minutes in heaven.

“There is no way in hell I’m agreeing to that,” you say. Tensions were already high in your friend group, and you didn’t want any fights happening while all of you were stuck in the Washington’s cabin for a weekend, stuck in the middle of the snowy mountains. Emily was pissed because Hannah had feelings for Mike, Chris and Ashley had feelings for each other and refused to tell the other, and you didn’t want to even think about what Jess was doing with getting close to Mike. You didn’t want to be around to witness the inevitable chaos this game would bring.

But really, you couldn’t be one to talk. You, Chris, and Josh had been inseparable since you were kids, and throughout your time of being friends with Josh you had slowly developed a crush on him. You knew you could never tell him, for fear of ruining your friendship. You valued him too much to risk that.

“You’re so booooring.” Jess rolls her eyes at you, before whispering into your ear.

“Shut up!” You yank your arm out of her grasp, heat rising to your face. “What the fuck do you know about that? That’s not why!”

Her eyes light up. “So it is true!” A smirk rises to her face, but before she can say anything else, a hand falls against your shoulder.

“Ooh, what’re we whispering about over here? Keeping secrets from dear old Joshie, are ya?”

Mortified that Josh almost heard you guys, you almost want to hug Jess for speaking first as you can’t find anything to say.

“Hey Josh. You’ll play, right?”

He grins. “You know I’m down for anything.”

“Well,” Jess turns back to you, “you need to convince her to join us. Such a party pooper.”

Josh turns to you and throws his arm around your shoulders, forcing you to lean into his side. “Aw, c’mon honey, you can’t leave me alone with these idiots.”

“Fine.” You roll your eyes, knowing you didn’t have it in you to deny Josh. “Let’s play this stupid game.”

Jess squeals as she grabs your arm, leading you (and Josh, who’s hand hasn’t left you) into the living room, where everyone is seated on the large carpet.

“Look who I’ve found!” Jess says in a sing-songy voice. Cheers ring out and the group opens up some space on the floor for the three of you to sit. You and Jess take a seat between Ashley and Matt, while Josh sits next to Chris, almost directly across from you.

“You’re first.” Emily says, shoving the empty glass bottle in your direction. “Since you were the last one to show.”

You didn’t have the strength in you to protest, hoping that this game will be over quickly and hopefully no fights break out. You just wanted one quiet night without any of your friends arguing with each other.

As you spin the bottle, you just pray it lands on someone who you knew you could actually deal with being alone for seven minutes, like Beth or Sam.

But as long as it didn’t land on Josh, you were okay with it.

The bottle slowly comes to a stop, and you see the neck of it facing opposite of you.

Oh, fuck.

Your eyes slowly move up to see the person the bottle points towards, and you’re met with Josh’s green eyes staring right into you.

Just your fucking luck.

Jess giggles from beside you as she drags you to stand up. Josh slowly gets up across from you, strangely quiet as Chris seems to nudge him slightly.

As Josh steps his way around the group, Jess grabs you both and pulls you away. “Have fun in there, lovebirds!”

“Yeah, don’t forget to wear protection, man!” Mike calls out from behind you. You stick up your middle finger behind you and you and Josh enter the designated space for this game, a fairly spacious storage closet with only the moon providing you two with any sort of light.

As the door locks you plop down onto the floor, your head falling into your hands. You hear Josh take a seat next to you, a hand coming onto your shoulder as he rubs circles into it with his thumb.

“What’s got you down, honey? Thought we were supposed to have fun tonight.”

“It’s nothing.” You sigh, turning to your friend. “Really, I’m okay.” You wince with how fake it sounds as it leaves your lips. You hated lying to Josh, but how the hell were you supposed to tell him you’ve been in love with him for years.

“Really?” Josh raises an eyebrow. “’Cause you’ve barely spoken to me all day.”

You throw your head back, your actions of trying to make sure Josh doesn’t find out about your crush on him finally catching up to you.

“What is it then?”

His voice is firm, and you know by that tone there’s no way you can avoid the topic now.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” you mutter.

“Oh yeah? Try me. We’ve known each other for years, I’m sure I’ve heard it all.”

“You haven’t heard that I’ve been in love with you since the sixth grade.”

He lets out a laugh, and your heart drops to your stomach. “Sixth grade? That’s when I had pimples and shit!”

You can’t help but laugh along with him, giving him a punch in his shoulder. “Shut up. I didn’t say I had good taste, did I?”

“Even if you didn't, it sure as hell works out for me, considering I’ve liked you even longer than that.”

You grow silent at his words, taking in what he said. “You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not.” He narrows his eyes. “Unless you’re fucking with me?”

“Why would I be fucking with you?” Josh stays silent and you roll your eyes. “Don’t piss me off, dude.” You go to push against him to get more space but Josh grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with his own. Your heart starts beating rapidly in your chest feeling his warm palm against your own.

“Please don’t call me dude before I’m about to kiss you.”

You gasp as Josh leans in and captures your lips, closing your eyes and indulging in the sensation. The kiss feels clumsy, his lips clashing against your own in a way that exposes the lack of experience, but it's made up for with passion. Josh leans into you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you allow yourself to fall into his embrace. Your hands come up to either side of his head, one moving to run itself through his hair as he groans into your mouth.

He pulls away just as you do to get some air. You both pant heavily, staring at each other, and a bead of saliva that connects you two breaks.

A grin breaks out across Josh’s face, and a shy smile finds its way onto yours. He rests his forehead against your own, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that for,” he murmurs.

“Trust me,” you say, “I know.”

“Four minutes!” You hear Jess from outside faintly, and you jump slightly in Josh’s hold. “There better be some action going on in there!”

“Guess we better give the people what they want.”

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot.”

Your lips find his again in an instant, and this time this kiss is more desperate—more passionate. Josh’s hands run up and down your body and you moan into him, your back arching as your breasts squish themselves against his chest. You’re sitting in his lap now from how close you two are, and you start to move your hips against Josh. Josh groans into your mouth, and you take that as an opportunity to shove your tongue in there. Your tongues clash as you sloppily make out, drool escaping your lips as you clumsily figure out the best way to do it.

Josh ruts his hips up into you, keeping you still with his hands around your waist. His cock hardens against you, and the friction of his jeans rubbing into your clothed slit has you moaning into the kiss. His hands tug at your hair, and you already know that it’s going to be hard explaining the mess of it when your time is up.

You break away from the kiss as a particular loud moan leaves your lips, inside choosing to bite into Josh’s shoulder as a way to conceal your noises.

“Wait,” you say, before you and Josh go any farther. He looks up at you expectantly. “I haven’t done anything like this before,” you admit, nervous about your lack of experience.

Josh smiles, running a hand across the back of his neck. “Me neither. We can figure it out together.”

Pride washes over you at being Josh’s first, even though you know it’s not something you really have to be too happy about. But you’ve grown up with the guy, pretty much experiencing all of life together with him. It only made sense that you had each other’s firsts in this way, too.

You let yourself fall back into Josh’s embrace as one of his hands leaves your waist to reach into your sweatpants. It takes him a bit of fumbling but he eventually finds your pussy, teasing it through your soaked underwear. The squelching sounds of your wetness cause you to bury your face into the crook of his neck, embarrassed by how obvious your arousal was.

Josh chuckles at your reaction, his fingers continuing to pet you and you buck your hips into them.

“S-shut up,” you argue weakly, not wanting to see his face as he teases you.

“Didn’t say anything,” he whispers into your ear.

You figure that the only way to get Josh to stop teasing you was to beat him at his own game. Your hands reach down to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, and you hear a halt in breath as his fingers falter slightly in their rhythm as you stick your hand down his pants, palming at his bulge.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “feels good.”

You hum, moving your hand across his bulge as he ruts his hips against you. He leaves kisses up and down your neck, causing you to gasp and squeeze him harder, a groan tumbling from him.

“Fuck yeah, hon, keep doing that.”

You finally move your hand into his underwear, wrapping it around the full girth of his cock as you stroke him at that same pace of his fingers pumping in and out of you.

“Josh,” you whine, pressing your body to him as close as you can. “Gonna cum.” One of your hands digs into his backside trying to find some stability as the other continues to stroke him.

His pace quickens and broken moans escape you as you buck into him frantically, a loud moan falling from you orgasm onto his fingers.

Josh isn’t too far behind as you hear a groan from him and a warm stickiness envelopes your fingers. 

You reach around and thankfully find a roll of paper towels in the storage closet to wipe your hands with.

Josh leans up and kisses you, and you sigh into it, bartering with yourself that it’ll be the last one before you’ll begin cleaning yourself up.

“I am approaching the door.”

Chris’s voice rings out as you and Josh jump back, eyes wide as you stare at each other.

“I am about to put my hand on the doorknob.”

“Fuck,” you groan, hastily trying to fix your appearance so that you don’t look like you were two seconds away from fucking.

The door opens and Chris stands in front of you two, an unamused look across his face.

“You’re lucky I was able to convince Jess to let me do this,” Chris sighs, turning his head away for a brief moment so that you and Josh can try to make yourselves look a little bit more presentable. “Although I think I’m the unlucky one now.”

Josh turns to you, snickering. “Aww, honey. Cochise cares about us!”

“Ooh, you loooove us.” You imitate exaggerated kisses in Chris’s direction, and then give Josh a kiss on his cheek.

“Man, I’m really gonna have to be the third wheel now,” you hear him mutter to himself, although loud enough that you and Josh can still hear.

“Ashley’s still waiting for you,” you tell him, teasingly.

“Fuck you, guys,” he retorts, spinning back around and walking back towards the living room. “I’m gonna need a drink after this.”

Josh pouts mockingly as he holds your hand. “Aw man, without us? Don’t worry, we’re all gonna get drunk off our asses tonight.”

Chris shrugs. “Go crazy, I guess. I really hope you two aren’t some of those horny drunks.”

You wink at him as the three of you cross into the living room, the sounds of your friends’ voices growing louder. “Can’t promise you anything, bud.”

[tootiecakes234]

“Hey Katsuki”, you scream from the your bedroom.

“What” he yells back at you from somewhere else in the house.

“Where ya at?”

“In the game room.”

So you get up and head that way. When you enter he’s sat in his gaming chair with his headset on.

“Hey bub…. Hey guys” you say loud enough to be heard through his headset.

“Yea yea. They all said hey.” You knew Kirishima and Kaminari were on the other end. Maybe even Mina too cuz she wasn’t texting you back.

“Kit-Kat, I’m getting hungry. Do you know what sounds really good for dinner?”

“What?” he questions without taking his eyes off the screen.

You walk behind him and slide your arms around his neck and nuzzle into the back of his head. You’re trying to butter him up because you know he’s not gonna wanna make what you’re craving.

“You remember those dumplings you made from scratch a while ago?” You ask with your voice dripping in as much sweetness you can muster.

“No.”

“No you don’t remember or no you’re-“

And he interrupt you before you can even finish. “No im not cooking that. There are frozen dumplings in the fridge.”

“But Sukiiiiii, those aren’t as good as the ones you make. The flavors aren’t the same and yours are so crispy and doughy. Pleaaasseee.”

“Hey you assholes shut the hell up. No ones talking to you.” He responds to his friends in the headset. “You want her to have ‘em, bring your ass over and make ‘em”

“I’m not doing this. You idiots hold on.” And he pauses the game and turns around to face you and removes his head set.

“Look we can order takeout if you want, but I’m not about to make freakin dumplings from scratch cuz you have a craving. I’d have to go to the store and get ingredients and taking the time to make the wrappings. ‘S too much.” He tries to explain to you in a rational way .

“I knooowww…. I’d go to the store with you though and I’ll help you make them…. Pretty please” you whine and stick you lowere lip out just a little with your eyes as pleading as you can make them.

Katsuki rolls his eyes and throws his head back.

“You don’t get whatever you want just because you pout at me. Spoiled ass. Not today. Maybe sometime later this week.”

You didn’t actually think he’d tell you no. He usually never does. Maybe you are spoiled. Still makes you sad though.

So you put on your big girl pants, tuck your lip back in and give him a soft “ok” before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips so he knows you’re not upset with him.

He is allowed to say no.

“Is Mina on the game with you guys?” You ask him when you pull back.

“Yeah she is.”

“When you get back on can you tell her to stop being a bitch and answer my phone call. I have tea to spill.”

“I’ll tell her.”

And with that you head toward the door and leave.

Once you’re back in your room it takes Mina about 3 minutes to call you and you start catching her up on everything.

You guys stay on the phone for about 30 minutes before she has to go.

After that, you bury yourself in the blankets and start reading the manga you had lying on your nightstand.

Before you can really get into it, Katsuki is walking into your room and going into the closet.

“Get your ass outta bed and get dressed before I change my goddamn mind.”

“What?” You ask because now you’re confused.

“You said you were gonna go to the store with me to buy all this shit so get your ass up and let’s go.”

“Kats you don’t have to, it’s fine.”

“Look ya spoiled brat, if I gotta tell you to get up one more time we are gonna be in here fightin.”

And the smile that breaks out on your face. You hurry and get outta bed and rush him. “Awwwww my sweet boy”

“I swear to god, I’m this close to letting your ass starve.”

And you wrap your arms around him and start kissing everywhere on his face. When you pulled away he has a deep frown on his face but you can see the sparkle in his eyes that he gets when you’re super happy.

You pull away and scurry off to get dressed.

He really needs to start saying no to you and meaning it before you really lose the understanding of the word.

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99

*if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know💕

[mrsbarnesblog]

Tattoo

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader

Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.

Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘

“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 

“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 

You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 

“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 

But you were so wrong. 

As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 

“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.

"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 

Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 

Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 

Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 

He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 

He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 

“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 

And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 

You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.

You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 

“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 

“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 

Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.

You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 

To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 

“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 

“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 

“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”

Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.

“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.

“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”

“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 

"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 

Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 

“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 

“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 

“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”

“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”

You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 

The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 

You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 

“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 

“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 

“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”

“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 

“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.

“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 

“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 

Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 

You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 

“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.

“No!”

“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 

“I can do it myself!” 

You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 

Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 

“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.

Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 

He was good at it. 

No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 

“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.

You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 

God, he must be big. 

Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 

“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.

“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.

"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 

Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 

Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 

“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 

“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 

“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"

Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 

“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 

“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”

“Loosers.” 

“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”

“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.

“Okay.”

Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.

With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 

Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 

Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 

"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 

You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 

The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 

You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 

You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 

“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 

“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 

"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 

“I do.” 

Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 

Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 

Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 

Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 

“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 

With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 

“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  

“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 

“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 

“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 

When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 

He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 

Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 

“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.

“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 

“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”

“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 

“Good fucking girl.” 

Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 

You both felt how close you were. 

Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.

“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 

“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 

“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.

Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…

“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”

“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 

“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 

“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 

“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 

[yueebby]

sooo i read your "indulge me?" piece and that's why i wanted to ask for gojo simping for reader that doesn't really seem him as more as a friend and he's fine with it (lol he's not but he's need to keep the facade you know???) hope you write it at some point! btw loving you writing so far <333

11:34pm — gojo satoru

contents. highschool!gojo, fluff, he’s so in love bye, underage drinking, tokyo and kyoto students have a little get together!

“what’s wrong with him?” utahime watches her white haired underclassman down another can of beer. it was rare to see gojo drinking with the rest of the group, always opting for a soda instead.

shoko takes another swig out of her drink, unsurprised. “[name] is on a date.” 

a pathetic groan leaves gojo’s lips and the upper half of his body is splayed over the kotatsu in shoko’s room, sunglasses long forgotten somewhere. he lets out an unapologetic burp. everyone at the table spares him a glance of pity. 

utahime grimaces and mutters a quiet, “gross”. 

“don’t provoke him,” geto scolds shoko, flicking some ash from his cigarette to the ashtray below. “she’s just dealing with clan matters. arranged marriages and whatnot.” he used his free hand to land a firm pat on gojo’s back. what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t try to comfort satoru? 

“poor thing. i can keep you company in the meantime,” mei mei’s smile is far from something with good intentions. gojo shakes his head to refuse, but with the way his forehead was pressed to the table, it looked comical. like a child throwing a tantrum. 

the only thing that managed to get gojo satoru out of his drunken slump was a soft knock on the door. he could recognize that pattern anywhere. could it be–? the snow haired boy immediately perks up. his drunk dazed eyes brighten as he quickly makes his way to the door. 

geto snorts at the way his best friend reacts. he thinks he can see an imaginary tail wagging, as if he were a dog. 

“you’re late!” gojo accuses you when he opens the door. you blink.

“are you…okay?” your voice is laced with concern as gojo’s large frame towers over you. gojo preens.

“awww, is my [name] worried about me now? don’t worry, ‘m doing just fine!” there is a goofy grin painted on gojo’s face as he leans against the doorway. all conversation has stopped and every sorcerer was listening attentively to gojo's hopeless conversation with you. utahime can’t help but feel just a little compassion for the boy. he was pining so much it hurt.

“i wasn’t worried. it's just that your words are all slurred– don’t tell me you let shoko talk you into drinking with her again?” you sigh. it was hard to miss the smell of beer on him. gojo and alcohol never mixed well, and the last thing you needed tonight was another lecture from yaga. 

from inside her room, shoko shouts, “it wasn’t me this time! the idiot decided to drown himself in beer after we warned him not to!” it was common knowledge that gojo couldn’t handle his alcohol. 

the male in question pouts.

“can a man not grieve about the love of his life being married to another?” gojo deflates. on the other side of the threshold, you wrinkle your nose.

“who said anything about marriage? like hell i’m going to accept a proposal from naoya zen’in.” you grumble. it had been a long night. dealing with your family and naoya was enough to scare you into staying in jujutsu tech for good. you’d rather lose your sanity to gojo than your dignity to naoya. 

“never mind that though, are mei mei and utahime still here? i was hoping to catch up with them!” you smile, crouching under his arm to make your way into the room. gojo doesn’t hesitate to trail right behind you. 

“[name]!” utahime waves happily at you, her mood no longer sour after she sees you. your wave back is enthusiastic. mei mei acknowledges your presence.

“how was dinner with naoya?” suguru asks. your face pinches up. he laughs before handing you a cold can of soda which you accept graciously.

you hear gojo mutter to himself from behind you.

“what’s up with him?” you whisper to suguru.

“you know how he is when he drinks,” he sighs, ushering you to sit beside him. gojo seemed to have his own agenda though, forcefully squeezing himself between the two of you. you shoot him an annoyed look to which he responds with a grin on his face. 

“‘m tired,” he whines, stretching his arms dramatically while letting out a loud yawn. you grunt when there’s a heavy weight on you; gojo has thrown his entire body on your side.

you don’t bother pushing him off. you’ve learned in the two years you’ve known gojo that he is like a baby when he gets drunk. it’s best if you let him have his way.

“go to sleep then, idiot,” you flick his forehead. he juts his bottom lip childishly, looking up at you with wide eyes. his eyes are captivating and you think you see nervousness through those azure orbs.

“will you come to bed with me too?” he rests his chin on your shoulder. you raise an eyebrow in surprise.

“eh? why would i?”

“because i’m cute.” gojo bats those long eyelashes of his innocently. you roll your eyes playfully before taking another sip out of your soda. 

“you’re weird– that’s what you are.” your lips quirk upward, eyes twinkling with mirth. he sulks, chin still comfortably supported by your shoulder.

“‘m not that bad!” he protests, a frown forming on his lips. you look at him for a long moment. this was the first time you’ve ever gotten to look at gojo this closely. 

his hair was getting longer, you note silently. with your free hand, you slowly move a strand of hair out of his face. gojo watches you earnestly. if his cheeks were not already flushed, they are now. 

“can we stop it with the flirting? let us single folk live in peace.” shoko speaks up. you turn your attention hastily from gojo to the rest of your fellow peers. 

“i feel like i’m intruding on something,” mei mei says scandalously. your eyes widen.

“we are not– no way!” you shake your head repeatedly. no one believes you. especially not while gojo is still resting on your shoulder, eyes watching you, full of love.

“stop giving him all your attention and talk to us! we’re much better company,” utahime scowls, pointing her beer disapprovingly at the white haired boy on you. you think you hear gojo grunt.

“alright, alright,” you concede. 

“i hope you don’t mind me asking again, but do tell us how your night with the zen’in kid went,” suguru snickers. you groan exasperatedly.

“where do i even start?”

the rest of the night goes by pleasantly. you had been so engrossed with retelling your experience with dealing with your family that you had failed to notice what gojo was up to. by the time everyone left their respective dorms (or temporary dorms), you noticed the head of white hair sleeping soundly on your lap.

he mumbles something in his sleep, nuzzling himself closer into your stomach. cute. you giggle at how innocent he looks. 

you don’t know what took over you, but you remember bending down and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. to your surprise, gojo reciprocates your kiss. to the best of his capabilities anyway. you watch as he puckers his lips in his sleep. oh my– how precious.

you suppose he isn't so bad.

notes. THANK U FOR BEING MY FIRST ANON ASK. ily!!! i saw somewhere that gege confirmed gojo would have drunken failures when he was a student haha this is my take on that. hes so bf

also thank you for all the support on my first post?!? you guys are too sweet im crying. i literally giggle and kick my feet reading your feedback ><

[gloomwitchwrites]

Their child calls their emergency line (Dad fluff)

Anon! This idea is so so cute! Don't mind me, I'm just giggling like an idiot over here. I adore imagining these guys as dads, and this prompt is completely indulging me. Thank you so much for sending this in! I had a lot of fun with this one. Enjoy!!

Presented in four drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings: brief swearing, mostly fluff

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it. And the phones goes off again.

While Price, Gaz, and Soap all continue their conversation, Simon takes his phone out of his pocket and walks a few paces away.

He glances at the screen and sees his youngest daughter’s name on the screen. It’s their emergency line. Simon answers immediately and brings the phone up to his ear.

“Everything good, baby girl?”

“Can you help me with my math homework?”

Simon sighs. “So there isn’t an emergency?”

“Yes. The emergency is my math homework,” she replies plainly.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is working late. Really fucking late. He promised Price he’d look at the reports before they’re sent off in the morning. Details are important. Things can’t be overlooked.

His phone buzzes on the desk.

“Hello?” he answers without looking at the name.

“Daddy?”

Johnny immediately straightens, the reports forgotten. It’s his eldest daughter.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

She pauses. “Can you come pick me up?”

Johnny is already out of his chair and grabbing his coat before his daughter finishes the sentence.

“Where are you?”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.

“Don’t worry about it, love. Tell me where you are.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Daddy?”

“What is it, baby girl?”

Kyle straightens at the slight tremor in his daughter’s tone. She rarely—if ever—calls him at work. And she knows it’s for emergency purposes only.

“Everything all right?” he asks after a beat.

She sighs. “Could—I—”

“What’s wrong?” he prompts, suddenly nervous.

“Are you leaving work soon?”

Kyle checks his watch. “In about an hour. What do you need?” His daughter mumbles something on the other end. “What’s that, love?”

“Can you grab tampons?” she asks in a rush.

Kyle holds back a laugh. Everything is fine.

“Of course, baby girl.”

John Price

John pinches the bridge of his nose. The file folder before him is just a blur of color.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. John fishes it out. Home, it says.

Frowning, he answers. “Hello?”

“Daddy?”

It’s his youngest, a boy of only six. “Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t want mum to hear me.”

“Why?”

“I want to surprise her.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“Can you get her a gift?”

“Of course, bud. I’ll grab something on the way home.”

“Thank you!” he shrieks, hanging up abruptly.

John snorts and stares down at the blank screen, shaking his head.

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@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[mywritersmind]

DONT CRY OVER SPILT COFFEE - LN4

summary : A horrible morning made worse by a man in a matcha colored hat, spilling coffee down her shirt and maybe ending up being the hero she needs for her final.

listen up : no warnings!! okay hiii i fell off the face of the planet for a sec lol! i’m fine and thank you for all your sweet messages! honestly i was just burnt out and have nooo ideas plus school and sports are kicking my ass. i love you all so much and hope you enjoy this!

words : 1940

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I try to steady my breathing as I bite back tears. It’s a small thing, really… I ordered a latte and they gave me a steaming hot black coffee.

I would have been fine, simply asking to return it if not for the horribly rude barista and my morning out of hell. So I give up and drag myself out of the little shop, opening the heavy door and promptly colliding into the man across from me.

I swear, loudly, this is the absolute cherry on top of the start of my day. I honestly expect him to run off and roll his eyes, but with tears in mine and hot coffee on my shirt, he rushes to apologize.

“I’m so fucking sorry- shit! I’m an idiot… Let me buy you another one, and a top. Honestly I’m so sorry.” The British man is rambling as I wipe my tears, something his green eyes widen at, horrified that he made me cry. As I blink away the tears, I'm immediately threatened with more because he’s hot!

“No… It’s okay.” I sniff, cursing the universe for making me act like a fool in front of a man this attractive. “I wasn’t even going to drink it.” People are staring at us now and the workers have already started to clean the mess beneath my feet.

“C’mere.” He says softly, taking my hand and leading me to a more secluded part of the cafe, “I’m really sorry.” He’s pulling off his flannel now, a plain white t-shirt now visible as he hands the red and white button up to me, “Please change, I feel horrible. I’ll get you another drink, maybe one you actually enjoy?”

I don’t know why, but if it was any other day, I would have brushed this off and left with no words. But today, I really need this. I nod, telling him my actual order, and retreating to the bathroom as he gets in line.

The shirt does not fit me. I’m wearing a denim skirt with it and it looks like I'm wearing a dress, but honestly I like the look. I grab my shirt and leave the bathroom, my skirt splattered with coffee and the smell still on me.

I sit outside, not wanting to be stared at by everyone who saw me inside. He’s back quickly, two coffees in hand and a guilty smile on his face.

Now that my eyes aren’t blurred with tears, I get a better look at him. He’s tan and freckled, curls sticking out from under his hat.

I read his name on the cup, “Bob?” I say, a bit more judgy than I meant. My latte is cool against my hands, my skin hot from coffee and embarrassment.

He sits across from me, laughing a bit, “No uh… I’m Lando.” I wonder if they got his name wrong and I'm about to ask how someone makes that big of a mistake, but he starts talking, “Are you alright? Something tells me this isn’t just about a spilled drink.”

I sip my coffee, instantly happier with the taste of vanilla, “Honestly? It’s just been a shit morning.”

He smiles softly as a biker drives past us, the sun beating down on my legs, “Want to tell me about it?”

“I really don’t want to bother you anymore…” I try to distract myself with the flowers next to us but my eyes find him again.

“I deserve it- not that you’re a bother! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He blushes slightly, sipping his matcha.

“I really shouldn’t…”

“You can-”

“Okay so I’m a university student and for my final project in one of my journalism classes, I have to interview someone! Okay fine whatever it’s easy, I can do that! My professor is a massive bitch and didn’t even like my suggestion of interviewing my third grade teacher but whatever! I decided on it anyway even though everyone in my fucking class has like a million and one connections to insanely famous people so all of theirs is actually interesting!”

“Yours sounds interesting.” He shrugs.

“Thank you! Well, when I went to the school to interview her, I found out she’s dead!” His jaw drops, “Yeah! So now I'm just depressed because I loved that woman and I still don’t have a final. Plus just about everything went wrong while getting ready. I tore my favorite tights and lost my lucky bracelet, clearly, because I ran into you after this stupid shop got my order wrong!”

He’s smiling, looking at me with pity and a little humor, “That does sound like a lot.”

I bring my cup to my lips once more, breathless from my rant. Lando just hums, tapping his finger on the table, “Anyway I can help?”

“Unless you know anyone famous… and you’ve already bought me the correct coffee and listened to my rant, I can’t ask for more.”

“Well uh…” He bites his lip suspiciously, “I sort of do… know someone famous, that is.” My eyes go wide and my cheeks go red.

“No! I can’t bother anyone else, forget what I said.”

He’s smiling again, “Nope, you asked for it. I have a solution.”

“No… Lando I can’t.” He’s far too nice for someone I just met.

“It’s for your final! I don’t mind.”

“Sure you might not mind but the person I'm interviewing might!” At this, he makes a face. Somewhere between laughter and awkwardness. Then I have an overwhelming sick feeling as he starts again.

“You can interview me.” What the fuck have I done? He slides me his phone but my eyes are already squeezed shut. I hear him chuckle, “Y/n.”

“No no no.”

“Yes.” he nudges it against my arm as I slowly eye it. It's his instagram. His instagram with 9.4 Million followers.

I swallow, “I’m an idiot.”

“No. You’re just not into racing.” He’s right! I’m not. I’m really not! The photos quickly tell me that he is a formula one driver for McLaren. “Just ask me whatever you need. It’s not a bother.”

“Lando…” I feel like I've been dunked into cold water, and suddenly I realize that people are looking at us not because of my embarrassing mess, but because he’s famous!

“I’m not leaving until you ask.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms as if he’s on strike.

“You’re sure this isn’t overstepping- I mean I just met you and I barely even know what you do!”

“So then ask me.” He’s infuriatingly hot, his brow raised.

I hesitantly take my notebook out of my bag, uncapping my pen, and starting a new page.

My hand is shaking for some reason but the questions just flow out of me! He answers every one with a humble sort of confidence that makes me laugh.

In the span of thirty minutes, I learn everything about formula one and Lando Norris. Most of it is for my own curiosity but what I write down is all about Lando.

He’s quite charming and I wonder if he’s this open to every interviewer. “So you won something big…?”

He laughs, nodding, “Yeah. The Constructors Championship. It’s for the team, not really a specific driver.”

I hum, “But there is one for a driver…? And you don’t have it?” I ask bluntly.

He smiles slowly, “No… I was in the fight mathematically but we started too late. Trust me though, next year's mine.” He winks and it’s the first time he acts cocky and honestly sure of himself.

“Well… those are all my questions.”

“Oh. Well, This has been my favorite interview yet. I hope I was almost as inspiring as your third grade teacher…”

I laugh, sitting back in the wiry chair, “I think I might just pass this class and get my teacher to like me.”

“That won’t be because of me though. You’re a good journalist, I can tell.” His eyes are soft when he speaks to me, leaning forward and drawing my eyes to his arms.

Fuck how did I not realize he’s got that whole rich athlete vibe.

I take one last drink of my coffee, the ice sounding and my frown apparently, “Thanks again… I hope I didn’t ruin your day or anything.”

“If anything, you made it better. I’m not exactly the press’ favorite but I'd like to be yours, just so when you start interviewing more F1 drivers, you’ll see how amazing I am.” He scrunches his nose as I laugh.

“Right… Well, I should really get going.” Something flashes across his face as I go to stand, “Oh shit, your shirt!”

“Keep it. You look better in it than I do.” I narrow my eyes at his flirtatious words.

“Do you flirt with all your interviewers?”

“Only the cute ones who I meet with coffee down her shirt.” His smile is insane, I have a feeling I shouldn’t entertain this, that he’s just another big dick athlete who can get any woman he wants.

But then he tugs at his necklace, something he explained to me was his logo, and I wonder what the harm is in having one thing in my day go right.

As if he can hear my thoughts, he sits up straighter, “Let me take you out.”

I did not expect him to ask that! My cheeks go pink as I shake my head. Something tells me that Lando Norris doesn’t take the word ‘No’ very well.

“You can give me my shirt back then.” He grabs my pen from my hand scribbling his number upside down onto my page of notes. “Please?” His handwriting is just legible enough for me to make out the numbers.

“Did you just say please?” I let out a laugh, glancing down at the black ink.

“I’ve heard there’s some magic in it.” He smirks, “I’m not above begging you. Come on, what’s the harm in apologizing over a nice dinner?”

“You already apologized over coffee.”

“You really don’t want to go out with me?” He looks at me as if I've just stepped on his puppy. I try to talk, then shut my mouth and look away.

“I’m in university.”

“I never finished school.” I raise a brow at his words. “What? I thought we were just exchanging our schooling records.” He’s smirking again, “Come on Y/n…”

“You’re famous.”

“You will be one day.” I truly can’t believe this is happening to me, “You’re gorgeous, Y/n. And you have every right to turn me down. Just say no.”

He’s got me there and we both know it, “I’ll text you my final, maybe if I get full marks then i’ll say yes.”

He stands with me, “I'm very confident you will.”

“Good luck driving… or whatever.”

He laughs, “I’m really glad I spilled coffee all over you.”

I roll my eyes and start walking away, “Goodbye Lando.”

He calls after me, “See you soon, Y/n!”

[sparklingblu]

Eroverse

Pt.1 - The Invitation

ft. Rei

"Harder, daddy. Harder!"

The sweet moans of the idol beneath you are music to your ears as you piston into her wet folds rapidly, a hand of yours gripping her throat and another kneading her large plentiful tits as she barely manages to stay on all fours on the bed. Her arched back is dripping with sweat and her breath is ragged. Nevertheless, she takes your pounding without complaint, like a good whore she is.

"You like it, huh? You cock hungry whore"

You ask over her mewls resonating around the room as you grip her throat even tighter, depriving her of oxygen.

"Yes...daddy...pound me"

Karina's voice comes out distorted and inaudible but it's impressive how she still manages to make a sound despite your hold on her vocal cords.

"Good girl"

You praise her and bring your palm over one of her asscheeks, which are jiggling with every one of your thrusts. The slap comes down harder than you expect, leaving a red handprint on that porcelain skin of hers. You repeat the motion again, this time on her other cheek, making it jiggle even more, marking it with your handprints as well. Maybe Karina squeals but it blends into her moans and the sound of her breath which is becoming even more shallow with how long you have been choking her.

You would have never thought you would have the chance to see Karina in real life , left alone fuck her. You have always drooled over the bounce of her huge tits and her curves as you jerk off to her fancams again and again. You would even get hard just from seeing that AI like face of her. However, these days are over as you claim her body as your own with your cock.

Karina's eyes begin to roll into the back of her head as she is cut off from the supply of her life force, oxygen, for too long. That doesn't make you decrease your pace or lessen the hold on her throat either. The only supply she needs to live right now is your cum.

As Karina's body becomes limp like a lifeless doll, you start to feel your high slowly approaching. That sensation in your stomach that travels down to your pelvis and ultimately to your shaft.

"Gonna cum, Karina, don't waste a drop"

You order as your flood gates finally open and Karina open her mouth to let out her final moan, but the sound that comes out is-

"Ring ring ring"

Your eyes flutter open as the alarm clock wakes you from your blissful dream.

"You are an idiot, Michael"

You mutter to yourself as you turn off the alarm. You? Fucking Karina? Yeah, sure, that can happen when pigs fly. You sit up in your bed, only to find yourself rock hard from that wet dream you have been having. That's a matter you should take care of later.

You slowly get off your bed and rub your eyes, the view of your messy room greeting you as usual. The tiny room is stuffed with every single one of your possessions. A shelf against the wall, taking up most of the room and a small wardrobe in the corner which is next to a table and a chair, piled with stationaries and stack of papers.

It's a dump, sure. But it can be considered a luxury for a writer like you. At least you have your own space. You have always dreamed of writing stories and hell, you even have a ten book series planned out in your mind. But in reality, you are barely scrapping by. Going from one publishing house to another to get that novel of yours released that have been sitting on the same table for years. You managed to survive with the money you get from your part time job and sometimes when luck is on your side, some of your articles and poems got featured in some magazines no one read.

"Stop whining" you remind yourself. "You just haven't found your true potential yet" An empty encouragement, yet it gets your mind off the bad stuff. You make your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth, staring at the wreckage in the mirror which is your reflection. Your eyes were ringed with dark circles and your head throbs with pain from all the shots you chugged down at the bar yesterday after running into some old friends.

You head to the shower and you are about to turn the water on when you see a bigger problem at hand than smelling like a rat dies in your hair. The boner was still there, stiff and hard as ever. That dream really takes a toll on you.

You grab the phone on the sink and scroll through the collection of hundred videos of female idols you have saved on your phone, choosing the best one to jerk off to. There's so much variety to choose from, ass? tits? face? You once heard someone say "Jerking off is not hard, finding the material to jerk off to is" It seems like the case now.

Finally, you land on the video of Rei from IVE. The busty japanese idol in a white top and a skirt. Her tits bouncing with every move she makes. Not the ideal choice but you will settle for it.

You are about to get your hands on your mamba that's ready to pounce when a notification comes up on your screen.

"Still jerking off to Idols? Why not fuck them instead?"

You are confused. What kind of notification is that? It is like someone is watching you right here, right now. Maybe someone is pulling a prank on you? That's impossible because no one knows about your guilty pleasure.

Reluctantly, you scroll down to see the source of the message. On the left side of the notification is the icon of an app, a dark heart shape and its name on top "Ero". You are pretty sure you have never installed such an app on your phone but curiosity gets the best of you. You click on the notification.

Immediately, your screen light up with a warm neon glow as the loading screen popped up, with the same dark heart shape and the name "Ero" in the centre of the screen. After a minute of waiting, you are about to give up and quit the app when the screen shifts. Now, it displays a text box at the bottom of the screen like in video games and the same black heart rotate slowly like a top above it.

The text in the textbox says,

"Welcome, chosen one. Continue to your first quest?"

Chosen one? What in the Harry Potter is happening here? And what quest? Is this some sort of game? And what does it have to do with you jerking yourself off to idols? Million questions swell in your head but of course your curiosity pushes you to click the 'yes' button under the text.

For a moment, the screen is black. Then it lights up with such a bright white light that you nearly got blinded. The light dims, leaving another text box in the middle of the screen.

"First Quest: Rei's Blowjob

Have Rei sucks you off and endure it for 30 minutes"

Your mind is one complete mess, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. This sound like some sort of porn games you play on your laptop. Main character being chosen and all. But this is very much real though you still doubt this is some kind of scam app that steals the information from your phone. Not like you have any data worth stealing though. Another reason to doubt it even more.

As your brain gets blowtorched with questions, your phone suddenly shuts off. Before your fingers can reach the screen to turn it back on, the whole bathroom goes dark. When you say dark, you are not talking "turn off the light at night" dark. Only darkness exists within your vision as if the whole room have been swallowed by the night. You are about to move forward and try to reach out desperately for something to hold onto when your whole body gets washed over by a sensation like getting dipped in icy water. Your body starts to give out, your knees turning to jelly.

"Am I gonna die?"

You think.

"Oh god, I'm gonna die"

The darkness is the last thing you see before you are greeted by it once again as your eyelids close shut.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

The first thing on your mind when you regain consciousness is

"What the hell happened?"

You slowly open your eyes to see a chandelier on the ceiling above. Its yellow lights sting your eyes after seeing only the dark for so long. You slowly sit up, the fatigue in your body is gone, replaced by the lust earlier before you get dragged into this mess by an app. You are still clothless, your mamba springing up like a missel ready to launch.

You stand up, taking in your surrounding. You are in a vast room made entirely of mahogany. In the center of the room is a canopy bed with draping black curtains, opened to reveal the red bedsheets behind. On the console table in one corner rests a black vase holding a single red rose. Apart from it, the whole room is deprived of furniture, giving it a hollow incomplete feeling. The chandelier is the only light source but it is obviously not enough to illuminate the whole room as dark spots are scattered all around the room. If this is not creepy enough, the room has no doors.

Your first instinct is to try to escape but breaking out of a doorless room is easier said than done. Maybe you are dead and in heaven? Sure, if heaven is one dark ghastly room. But you doubt you will get in to heaven. You go back to the source of this problem. That stupid "Ero" app. And what did it say again? A quest, get a blowjob from Rei. But where is Rei?

"Here"

A voice utters from one corner of the room as if answering your thoughts. Your eyes adjust to the dark as a girl emerges from the gloomy spot, emerging from the shadows. It can't be, you think. But no doubt, standing before you is Rei, the japanese member of IVE, dressed in a black low cut sweater dress as if there isn't enough darkness in here and a loose belt wrapped around her waist like she has put it on in a rush. Her dreamy eyes beneath her hazel hair trace your body, studying you and you definitely don't want to be studied while you are butt naked. She folds her arms judgmentally, accentuating the shape of her huge tits under the fabric.

"Master, what takes you so long?"

She asks and you are speechless. Master? This have to be another wet dream. You should have response with some sort of snarky remark but all you can say is

"What?"

You want to bash your head with that vase on the table. A girl is calling you master and that's your first words to her. Stupid as ever.

"Master, I have been waiting for you. What takes you so long?"

This time your response is a bit better.

"Eh, I was busy..."

"I can't wait for that huge cock of yours, I need it so bad"

She whines, gazing at your exposed cock which is hard as ever. This gets you into your mood.

"Then why don't you come and taste it?"

You order, remembering your quest, blowjob. Maybe you can choose other alternatives too but this is a start.

"As you wish master"

Rei kneels, looking up at your cock as if it's something glamorous. The fingers of her left hand close around the base of your shaft, slowly stroking it and fuck, with how smooth her palm feels, you are not sure if you can hold out for 30 minutes for that stupid quest. Her movements are fluid, not too fast or too slow, taking her time just travelling her fingers along your shaft.

"Am I doing well master?"

She asks, looking up at you with her doll eyes.

"Yes, Rei but you have to be better than this"

Rei doesn't answer. Instead, she wraps the rest of her fingers above the space over the first ones and start stroking your cock faster. The friction sending jolts after jolts of pleasure through you body. Her fingers work like magic, with just the right grip and the right motion. Meanwhile, Rei's eyes never leave your cock, focused on it entirely.

"Like this, master?"

"Yes, Rei. Fuck, don't stop"

You groans as pleasure overwhelms you if every stroke of her fingers, bringing you closer and closer to your edge until you remember the time limit. You don't know what will happen if you fail, but you don't want to find out.

You grab Rei's wrist and stop her.

"Master needs you to use that pretty little mouth"

"Mhmm.....yes, master. I want to feel that hard cock stuffed in my throat"

Rei's filthy words leave her mouth no sooner than she impales it on your cock, stuffing your whole length down her throat. Usually, you expect some foreplay. A kiss there, a lick here. But Rei either doesn't know about or care about it as she engulfs your cock in one swift motion. A groan escapes your lips, the sudden warmth and the tightness indulging you with ecstasy. She holds you in her throat, her nose presses against your pelvis.

You have had blowjobs before but Rei's is on a whole different level. Her throat constricts around you, her neck bulging with the foreign object entering it. You are starting to think she's gonna hold you forever when she pulls back, a loud gag escaping her mouth as globes of saliva drop to the ground, the remnants connecting your tip and her lips in silky strings.

You expect her to take a breather but nevertheless she immediately went down on your cock again, taking it back into her warm cavern as she devours it like a hungry beast. Her plump lips sealed around your shaft as she bobs up and down with unyielding speed. Every single movement of hers seem calculated, designed to pleasure you in every way possible. The way her tongue traces the underside of your shaft, the way she moans around your cock, the intentional gagging sounds she makes ever so often. It's like a well organized orchestra with the instruments being her lips, tongue and her throat.

Saliva escapes from the corner of her lips with every bob, dripping down to her thighs and her cleavage, staining her black dress even blacker. You hold a tight grip on her hair, tying it in a lock in your grasp. Finally, she pulls back, leaving only the tip inside her mouth as her fingers envelope you shaft once again, stroking it so fast you think it's gonna start sparking. It might have as well as your body start heating up from her masterclass of a handjob, sweat beads hanging on your temples. You throw your head back, rejoicing in the bliss of Rei's tongue swirling around your head in harmony with her fingers that twist and turn all the way to her lips and back.

You have lost the sense of time, drowned by the euphoric feeling that doesn't seem to be stopping anytime. Has it been thirty minutes? You have no idea. But you are glad you hold out for this long. Time limit or not, you don't want this to end anytime soon.

However, everything have a limit and so do you. As Rei's hand leaves your shaft, only to be swallowed up and deepthroated once again, you start feeling that familiar feeling of the knot in your stomach, unravelling bits by bits. Your cock starts throbbing in the warmth of Rei's throat constricting and relaxing around the tip, as if giving it a massage.

Rei, who's either oblivious to it or doesn't care, suddenly release your pulsing pole from her mouth. She looks up at you and gives you a sly smile, like she knows how desperate you are for release.

"Is Master gonna cum?"

She asks with a smirk and god, you just wants to grab her hair and impale her on your cock again but you don't want to end things sloppily (ironic with how sloppy it already is) but you just nod.

"Cum down my throat master, fill up your slutty whore."

She says opening her mouth, waiting for your move and you instinctively grabs her hair in a makeshift messy ponytail and starts thrusting into her mouth like it's her pussy.

Everytime your cock hits the back of her throat, you get closer and closer to the finale of this rapturous session. Rei holds her gaze to yours, pleading with her eyes to you how badly she needs your cum, how badly she needs to be filled up from the brim.

"Rei....I'm cumming"

You announce as you conclude the act by burying your cock to the hilt into her welcoming throat, unloading spurts after spurts of cum all the way down into her stomach. It seems to go on forever, the flow of cum never ending until it eventually does.

You pulls out your now spent rod from her tight cavern. Rei's mouth was still open, saliva flowing like a waterfall and forming a puddle between the red mahogany floor between her knees, which are trembling nonstop.

"Thanks master"

She mutters, her voice hoarse from being deprived of oxygen.

"Good girl"

You mutter, grinning like a madman. You are pretty sure this definitely isn't a dream. And you just use an idol like a fleshlight. And your quest. Yeah, your quest. The reason you are here. Have you completed it?

As you are reflecting yourself, you are engulfed by darkness once again.

"Shit, not again"

You cursed under your breath. Anymore exposure to darkness today and you won't be able to see colors anymore.

"Worry not, chosen one"

A voice boomed all around you as if the darkness have built in speakers.

"You performed well, I expect more from you in the future"

You are about to protest when the same cold feeling earlier wash over you again and your mind goes blank.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

(My first smut and the start of a series, I hope you enjoy it)

[youngsadlesbian]

hey! i saw you were taking requests so:

a fic where popular!wanda and popular!reader have always been rivals. they love eachother as much as they hate eachother because they were childhood bestfriends, not until wanda left without a word, leaving reader alone.

i think it would be great if they have a scene wherein they get stuck in a bathroom after a couple of friends locked them in there, and they start talking about what actually happened.

ANDDDDD wanda getting pissed at reader's boyfriend, even if she has one as well.

i hope you consider this, thank you!!

BETWEEN LOVE AND WAR

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

summary: rivals since wanda left without explanation, you love each other as much as you hate each other. when you're locked in together, buried feelings resurface. between stolen kisses, jealousy, and secrets, you must decide—keep fighting or finally surrender to love.

a/n: thanks for the request hope u like it <3

word count: 2k

warnings: angst if you blink, enemies to lovers but mostly fuff.

Highschool hallways were your battlefield.

From the moment Wanda Maximoff waltzed back into your life years after disappearing without a trace, she had been nothing but a thorn in your side. The childhood best friend you had once adored had morphed into your greatest rival, someone who matched you in everything—popularity, grades, social influence.

If you threw a party, Wanda threw a bigger one. If you aced a test, Wanda’s score was somehow a fraction higher. It wasn’t just a competition anymore—it was war.

And she played dirty.

“Nice speech, printsessa,” Wanda cooed as she brushed past you after the morning assembly, the smug smirk on her lips igniting a fire in your chest. “Almost convincing. Too bad I wasn’t impressed.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to take a steady breath. “That’s funny, Maximoff. Because last time I checked, you were watching my every move like your life depended on it.”

Her green eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something else lurking beneath the surface—something almost… regretful? You ignored the nagging thought.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she purred, stepping closer until you could smell her familiar vanilla perfume. “If I wanted to watch something entertaining, I’d look anywhere but at you.”

A slow smirk curved your lips. “Then why are you still here?”

For a split second, Wanda faltered. But before you could dwell on it, she rolled her eyes and spun on her heel, walking away as if she hadn’t just invaded your space like she owned it.

That was how it always went between you two—like a storm brewing just beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to explode.

But nothing could have prepared you for what happened next.

It was supposed to be a harmless prank.

The idea was simple—your so-called friends thought it would be hilarious to lock you and Wanda in the girls’ bathroom until you either killed each other or worked things out.

“You guys need to fix your tension!” one of them had laughed before slamming the door shut behind you. The sound of the lock clicking into place sent a wave of dread through your stomach.

You whirled around, heart pounding. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Wanda groaned, banging a fist against the door. “Let us out, idiots!”

No response.

You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing your temples. “Perfect. Just perfect.”

Wanda turned to glare at you, arms crossed. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” You scoffed, incredulous. “How the hell is this my fault?”

“You have terrible taste in friends.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, and you would know all about loyalty, right?”

The second the words left your mouth, the air between you shifted. Wanda tensed, her expression hardening as if you had physically slapped her.

And maybe, in a way, you had.

A thick silence stretched between you.

Then, Wanda exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I had my reasons,” she muttered.

Your heart clenched. “For leaving?”

She didn’t look at you. “Yeah.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to stay composed. “You never even said goodbye, Wanda.”

The raw emotion in your voice made her flinch.

You hated the way your chest ached. Hated the way her absence had wrecked you when you were younger.

Wanda finally met your gaze, and for the first time in years, her walls cracked. “I was scared,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “My father got into trouble. My family had to leave town overnight. I didn’t have a choice.”

Your breath hitched. “You did have a choice. You could have told me. I would’ve understood.”

“I didn’t want you to understand,” she snapped, frustration laced in her voice. “I wanted to protect you. I thought leaving without a word would make it easier for you to forget me.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Well, congratulations, Wanda. It didn’t work.”

The weight of the past hung heavy between you.

Then, in the quiet, Wanda’s voice softened. “I missed you.”

Your heart clenched at the admission.

But before you could respond, a loud click echoed through the air, and the door swung open.

Your friends had let you out. But neither of you moved.

Because everything between you had just changed.

\*/

You knew something was wrong the moment you spotted Wanda at the party later that night.

She was standing across the room, her gaze locked onto you like a predator watching its prey. And she was pissed.

At first, you thought it was just the unresolved tension from earlier.

But then you followed her line of sight—straight to your boyfriend, who had an arm draped around your waist.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Wanda’s lips, but there was no humor in it. “Didn’t know you had such low standards, printsessa.”

Your jaw clenched. “Excuse me?”

Wanda stepped closer, her presence overwhelming as she tilted her head, eyes dark with something dangerous. “Your boyfriend. He’s a walking red flag, sweetheart. You can do better.”

You glared at her. “Oh, so now you care about my love life?”

Her expression darkened. “I’ve always cared.”

The words made your breath hitch, but you refused to show weakness. “Funny. You didn’t seem to care when you disappeared.”

Something flickered in Wanda’s gaze, but before she could respond, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Wanda.”

You turned just in time to see her boyfriend—a tall, broad-shouldered guy who looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine—wrap an arm around her waist.

Wanda’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t move away.

Your stomach twisted, but you refused to acknowledge the feeling.

So instead, you smiled, voice dripping with false sweetness. “Well, isn’t this adorable? You’re acting jealous while you have a whole-ass boyfriend.”

Wanda’s grip on her drink tightened. “It’s not the same.”

You scoffed. “Oh, so you can date whoever you want, but I can’t?”

Her eyes burned into yours. “I don’t want you with him.”

Your heart stuttered, but you masked it with a smirk. “And why the hell not?”

Wanda took a step closer, voice low. “Because he’s not me.”

For a moment, the world stopped.

Then, before you could process what was happening, Wanda grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from the crowd, away from her boyfriend, away from everything.

Because this war between you and her?

It had never been about hate.

Wanda’s grip on your wrist was firm but not painful as she dragged you out of the party and into the cool night air. The music from inside was still pounding, but it felt like a distant echo compared to the erratic beating of your own heart.

“What the hell was that?” you snapped, wrenching your arm free the moment you reached the empty backyard.

Wanda didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she ran a frustrated hand through her dark hair, her green eyes flashing with something wild, something desperate.

“You know what that was,” she finally said, voice tight.

You let out a humorless laugh. “No, I really don’t. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re just pissed I’m not still waiting around for you like some lovesick idiot.”

Her jaw clenched. “That’s not fair.”

You scoffed. “Oh, now you care about what’s fair?”

Wanda took a step closer, invading your space. “I never stopped caring.”

Your breath hitched. The heat of her presence, the intensity in her gaze—it was suffocating in the best and worst ways.

“Then why did you leave?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, raw and aching. “Why did you let me believe you just didn’t give a damn about me anymore?”

Wanda exhaled sharply, looking away for a moment. “I told you—I thought it would be easier that way.”

“For who?” Your voice cracked, betraying you. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t easier for me.”

Silence.

Then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it—

“I couldn’t bear to say goodbye to you.”

The confession landed like a punch to the gut.

For so long, you had convinced yourself that Wanda had abandoned you without a second thought. That she had simply moved on. But the way she was looking at you now—like you were the only thing in the world that had ever mattered—made that lie crumble to dust.

She took another step closer. You didn’t move away.

“I missed you,” Wanda murmured.

Your chest tightened. “Then why did it take you so long to tell me that?”

Her eyes flickered to your lips for just a second. “Because I was scared.”

Your pulse roared in your ears.

“And what about now?” you whispered.

Wanda reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, her fingertips lingering against your skin.

“I’m still scared,” she admitted, voice barely above a breath.

But she didn’t pull away.

And neither did you.

You weren’t sure who moved first.

One second, you were standing there, staring at Wanda like she was the answer to a question you didn’t even know you had been asking. The next, her lips were crashing against yours in a kiss that tasted like frustration, longing, and years of unresolved emotions.

It was messy, desperate—more of a battle than a kiss.

Your hands fisted in the fabric of her jacket, pulling her impossibly closer. Wanda’s fingers gripped your waist like she was afraid you’d disappear if she let go.

The intensity made your knees weak, made your mind spin.

But just as quickly as it started, reality slammed into you like a freight train.

You pushed her away, panting. “Wanda, I—”

Her expression was unreadable, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Don’t tell me you didn’t feel that,” she said, almost pleading.

You swallowed hard. “I have a boyfriend.”

Wanda flinched at the reminder. “You don’t love him.”

Your silence was all the confirmation she needed.

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Of course. Of course you don’t.”

You ran a shaky hand through your hair, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. “And what about your boyfriend, huh? What does this mean for him?”

Something dark flashed across Wanda’s face. “He was never you.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

The weight of her words settled between you, heavy and undeniable.

For so long, you had been fighting—against each other, against your feelings, against the past. But maybe… maybe you had been fighting for the wrong reasons.

Maybe you weren’t rivals. Maybe you were just two people too afraid to admit that you had never really stopped loving each other.

And maybe… it was time to stop fighting at all.

\*/

You ended things with your boyfriend the next day.

It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t pretty. But it was necessary. Because Wanda had been right—your heart had never truly belonged to anyone else.

And as for Wanda…

Well, she wasn’t far behind.

She showed up at your locker that afternoon, her usual smirk replaced with something softer, something real.

“So…” she started, leaning against the lockers, “you free later?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? Planning on dragging me into another emotionally charged confrontation?”

Wanda grinned. “Tempting. But I was thinking something more along the lines of an actual date.”

Your heart did a stupid little flip.

You pretended to think about it. “Hmm. That depends. Are you finally ready to admit that you like me?”

Wanda rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the blush creeping up her neck.

“Shut up,” she muttered before grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Maybe, after all this time, it finally was.

[onsomenewsht]

I've got peace and I've got love

About a surprise for your birthday even if you hate your birthday

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 words count: +1k

》 for anyone who needs to feel celebrated

Birthdays are a complicated matter.

You don’t hate them, no one really does.

People should be loved loudly, their mere presence on Earth should be reason enough to celebrate them.

You care about your family and your friends, baking cakes and inflating balloons and dressing up for a themed party are not a problem - you’re the first one to arrive and the last to leave.

Celebrating your birthday though? Hell, no.

For most, it doesn’t make sense.

A day in a whole year when anyone is entitled to be under the biggest spotlight, getting gifts and all the wanted attention. Yet, you’d rather hide in the remotest corner of the planet than hear someone sing “happy birthday” to you.

Despite the insistence and the repeated attempts over the years, your mother has finally accepted that you don’t want to make a big deal out of it. Your best friend has accepted that you’ll avoid a surprise party like the plague. Everyone who knows you, knows it.

Alexia included.

At least she knows now, after last year.

The two of you got together just shy of three months before your birthday. Bless her good heart, she thought a surprise ambush might be appreciated.

She’s not going to make the same mistake twice in a row, but she wants to do something.

“You told me she hates birthdays”, Alba points out, a bit confused, sipping her coffee as if her sister isn’t in the middle of an inconclusive rant.

“She hates her own, not birthdays in general”

“I still think you should just buy her a nice present, wish her a happy birthday and move on like she asked you to do”

“It seems so, I don’t know, incomplete?”, the blonde tries to explain, “How do I make sure I show how much I appreciate her if I can’t celebrate her?”

“You better celebrate her every day, not just on the birthday–”

“I do it, idiot!”

Alexia is quick in her jab, but thankfully the younger girl is used to her attitude by now.

Cup saved from any spill, Alba barely has enough patience to give another, simple pearl of wisdom, “So do it like any other day, but, you know, on her birthday”

It’s good advice, even if she’d never admit it.

Alexia spends most of her day off plotting, her free time during the week before your birthday completely taken over by careful planning and prep.

You can tell immediately that something is off, but you let it slide because she’s cute when she’s on a mission, and you don’t really want to spoil her fun.

At the stroke of midnight, like a mischievous fairy godmother, your best friend calls you to sing a personalized rendition of “Die, Die My Darling” like every year since you’re sixteen and think you’re oh-so-funny.

Your mother sends a present from the entire family, along with a picture of a cake you’re not going to eat but you’re glad they’ll enjoy in your name. Alexia’s mother and sister send flowers, and you have to reassure your girlfriend that it’s a genuinely appreciated sentiment.

Said girlfriend kisses you for every year spent on this Earth and then moves on, as if nothing happened. As if nothing is going to happen.

It’s suspicious, really suspicious.

The day passes by without any major incident.

At work just a few colleagues know it’s your birthday, they politely hand you a card with bad jokes written all over it. You mindlessly send the same three reactions at every text message, nonetheless appreciating everyone who remembered and took the time to wish you a happy birthday. A kind waitress adds a slice of dessert as you pick up take-out at your favourite Mexican place, probably prompted by Alexia when she ordered over the phone and sent you to the restaurant.

Guard down, you open the door to your girlfriend’s apartment, still not connecting the dots.

Thank the goddesses and gods above for that nice waitress, because what you find inside is definitely a first and the food wouldn’t have survived the surprise if not for the well-secured package.

Soft music - that, to your shame, you only realise too late is your favorite record - resonates through the room, which is filled with dozens of floating balloons reaching the ceiling.

You take a few tentative steps inside, noticing pictures carefully tied to each string with numbers scribbled on the corners.

Snaps of the past year, memories so simple in their significance you sometimes fail to give a good measure of. Dinners out with friends, an unflattering portrait of an early morning during the summer, the first time holding your niece. You linger over a photo of you and Alexia talking on Mapi’s couch, neither of you looking at the camera, as it’s clear you had eyes only for each other.

“I’ve never seen this one”, you whisper, emotion thick in your voice.

Your girlfriend is leaning on the further wall of the entrance, a confident stance failing to hide a note of nervousness. The way her hands are buried in the pocket of old sweatpants and her eyes are studying every single macro-expression shifting on your face are a clear tell for you.

"Ingrid sent it to me some times ago”

“It’s beautiful”

“It is”, she agrees easily, still not daring to come closer.

Alexia’s gaze drops as soon as you notice there’s a handwritten message on the back of every photo, her cheeks flushing slightly.

You take the time to read each one attentively, smiling at her thoughtfulness and the care she put into all the moments chosen. People and occasions that hold meaning for you, no matter how big or small. You feel love in every single one.

“You put a lot of thought into this”

“I had to sacrifice a couple of good ones”, she mumbles, almost upset with herself.

The commitment to matching the number of pictures to your age it’s impressive, you have to admit.

A burst of laughter fills the entire apartment, Alexia finally meeting your gaze and taking in how moved you’re by her surprise.

The fear of overstepping had been like an annoying voice, whispering in her ear as she scribbled on the back of the photos or tried to wrap gifts without running out of patience or tape.

“Do you like it?”, her doubt creeping in her voice.

“I don’t hate it”, you joke, still eager to ease her worries, “No one has ever put this much thought or effort into– I don’t know, celebrating my birthday, I guess”

“You deserve to be celebrated”

You take the few steps to fill the gap between you two, food forgotten somewhere behind, and throw yourself into her already open arms.

“Thank you”

“I love you”

The kiss you share is a clear enough answer. Sometimes, it’s not even necessary to spell it out - action speaks louder than words, they say. She holds you for as long as you need, music still playing softly in the background.

“Is this a good moment to mention that you have to open as many presents as you have in years?”

“Alexia!”

[writeriguess]

Hey hun! Welcome back 😘

So, i have a kind of slow burn idea for a Bakugo x fem!reader fic. They both like each other and when she tries to ask him out or talk to him about it, he's kind of an ass 😅

He thinks she'll be in the way or a distraction to his goal, so he pushes her away. He can't get her out of his head though and their friends tell him he's being an idiot. Eventually, he cracks and tells her (in his very 'katsuki' way) that he does want to be with her.

Angst ending with lots of fluff, confessions, and a kiss please!

author's note: Thank you so much! <3 I just wanted to say that your idea was incredible, and I had such a great time writing it. It turned out to be much longer than I expected, but it was definitely worth it!

Heart of Dynamite

It started with stolen glances. You weren’t sure when you first noticed, but something about the way Bakugo Katsuki acted around you was different. He wasn’t nice, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something else buried beneath the rough edges and sharp remarks. A fleeting glance when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he always seemed to hover nearby during group exercises, subtly ensuring you didn’t get caught off guard.

You weren’t blind. You saw the way his crimson eyes would flick to you during lunch, only for him to look away just as quickly if you caught him. You noticed how his explosions during sparring would seem almost… controlled when directed your way—less destructive, more calculated. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you wonder. Enough to make you hope.

The problem was, Bakugo being Bakugo, he’d never admit to something as human as feelings. If he did like you, he was keeping it buried under a mountain of anger, pride, and whatever complicated emotions made up Katsuki Bakugo.

But still, the moments added up. And with each passing day, your crush grew stronger. You hated the way your heart fluttered when he called you by name instead of his usual nicknames for everyone else. You hated how you’d secretly look forward to his biting remarks because, in some twisted way, it was his version of paying attention to you.

And most of all, you hated how much courage it took to even consider confessing to him.

After weeks of agonizing over it, you finally decided you couldn’t live with the "what if." No matter what, you needed to know.

The opportunity came on a rare quiet evening at the dorms. Everyone else had gone out for karaoke, leaving you and Bakugo alone. He was sprawled on the couch in the common area, his arms crossed, staring at some mindless action movie playing on the TV.

You hovered at the doorway, your heart racing. You almost turned back, but then his gruff voice interrupted your thoughts.

"What the hell are you standing there for? You look like a damn idiot."

You flinched, but quickly steeled yourself. "I just… needed to ask you something."

His gaze flicked to you, crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "Then spit it out already. Don’t waste my time."

Your hands were clammy as you stepped closer, each word feeling heavier than the last. "Do you… want to go out with me? Like, on a date?"

For a moment, Bakugo just stared at you. His usual scowl didn’t shift, but you could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes—so quick you almost missed it. His jaw tensed, his hands clenching into fists on his lap.

Then, he scoffed. Loudly.

"You serious?" he said, leaning back against the couch like your question was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. "Why the hell would I want to go out with you?"

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your throat tightened, and your chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

"I mean, come on," he continued, his tone sharp and cutting. "What makes you think I’d waste my time on something dumb like that?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but not from embarrassment—from the sting of his rejection. You struggled to keep your voice steady. "I just thought… maybe—"

"Well, you thought wrong," he cut you off, his voice cold and unrelenting. "So stop acting like some lovesick idiot and get over it."

The silence that followed was unbearable. You felt like the floor had been ripped out from under you, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to step back.

"Got it," you said finally, your voice small and strained. You turned on your heel before he could see the tears pooling in your eyes.

Bakugo didn’t move. He stayed on the couch, staring at the TV that he wasn’t really watching. His nails dug into his palms, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath, though he wasn’t sure if he was talking about you—or himself.

Hours passed, but Bakugo didn’t leave the couch. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind: the look on your face, the way your voice had cracked when he tore you down.

He hated himself for it. Hated the way he’d lashed out, even though he knew it was because he was terrified. Of what? He didn’t know. Maybe of admitting to himself that he cared. Maybe of the fact that you could make him feel so out of control with just one stupid question.

But now it was too late. He’d pushed you away.

You, on the other hand, locked yourself in your room, curled up on your bed, and let the tears flow. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid, so naive. Of course Bakugo didn’t like you. Of course he didn’t care. You’d just been projecting your feelings onto him, imagining things that weren’t really there.

Still, the hurt lingered. You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, that you’d move on, but the ache in your chest said otherwise.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting downstairs, fists clenched, consumed by his own turmoil. Because for all his bluster, he’d never wanted to hurt you. He just didn’t know how to deal with the truth: that he did like you, more than he was willing to admit.

Bakugo tried to convince himself that what he’d said to you was necessary. He had goals—real, tangible goals—and nothing, no one, was going to distract him. Becoming the Number One Hero wasn’t just a dream for him; it was a mission, an obligation, a destiny he was determined to carve out with his own blood, sweat, and tears. He didn’t need complications. He didn’t need feelings. He didn’t need you. That’s what he told himself over and over as he sat alone in his dorm room, glaring at the wall like it had personally offended him. His fists were clenched tightly in his lap, the tendons in his hands straining from the pressure.

But no matter how hard he tried to justify it, he couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind. The way your expression had crumbled when he snapped at you, the hurt in your eyes as you turned and walked away—it all replayed in his head on an endless, agonizing loop. He could still hear your voice trembling when you’d asked him out, soft and vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to hearing from you. You weren’t the kind of person who let your guard down easily, and he’d taken that rare moment of courage and crushed it underfoot.

“Tch,” he growled under his breath, running a hand through his hair and gripping the strands in frustration. “Stupid.”

He thought that pushing you away would make things easier, but it didn’t. If anything, it made everything worse. You were everywhere. Every time he walked into a room, his eyes automatically searched for you, even when he told himself they wouldn’t. When you laughed with your friends, the sound sent an irritating warmth through his chest, only to be followed by a sharp pang of regret when he remembered the look on your face that night. During training, he found himself tracking your every move without even meaning to, his instincts on high alert every time you dodged an attack or threw a punch. He hated it. Hated how you’d wormed your way into his head and refused to leave. Hated how much he wanted to be near you, even after he’d made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with you.

It didn’t help that everyone else seemed to notice his turmoil. His friends had started giving him strange looks during meals, their eyes darting between him and you as if they were waiting for something to happen. Kirishima, in particular, had been annoyingly persistent, watching him with that infuriatingly knowing expression he always wore when he thought Bakugo was being an idiot. Bakugo did his best to ignore it, but the tension was impossible to escape.

One evening, when the others were hanging out in the common area, Kirishima finally confronted him. Bakugo had been sitting on the couch, staring at his phone without really looking at it, when Kirishima plopped down beside him with a heavy sigh. Mina and Kaminari weren’t far behind, hovering nearby like vultures waiting for a meal.

“Alright, spill it,” Kirishima said, his voice casual but firm. Bakugo barely spared him a glance.

“Spill what?” he snapped, his tone as sharp as ever.

“Don’t play dumb,” Mina chimed in, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him. “You’ve been acting weird for days, and we all know why.”

“I’m not in the mood for this crap,” Bakugo growled, standing up to leave, but Kirishima quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Bakugo glared at him, his crimson eyes blazing. “Move.”

“Not until you admit what’s going on,” Kirishima said, his voice steady despite the obvious tension in the air. “You pushed her away, didn’t you?”

Bakugo froze, his scowl deepening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kirishima said, his tone unusually serious. “Come on, man. It’s so obvious you like her. Everyone can see it.”

“I don’t—”

“Save it,” Mina interrupted, stepping closer with a look that could cut through steel. “We’ve seen the way you look at her. And don’t even get me started on the way you lose your mind whenever she partners up with someone else during training. You care about her, and instead of doing something about it, you’re being a total dumbass.”

Bakugo’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t have time for this crap,” he muttered, shoving past Kirishima and heading for the door. But before he could leave, Kirishima’s voice rang out behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

“You think pushing her away will make you stronger,” Kirishima said, his voice softer now, almost sad. “But all you’re doing is proving how scared you are.”

Bakugo’s shoulders tensed, his hand gripping the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out,” Kirishima continued, his tone unwavering. “But running from it won’t make it go away.”

For a moment, Bakugo didn’t move. The room was silent, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, he yanked the door open and walked out, slamming it shut behind him without another word.

That night, Bakugo lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling with an intensity that could have set it on fire. Kirishima’s words echoed in his head, mingling with the memory of your voice and the image of your face. He hated how much it all got to him, how much he couldn’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tried. He hated the way his chest ached every time he thought about the hurt in your eyes and the way you’d walked away from him, your shoulders slumped in defeat. But most of all, he hated how much he wanted to see you again, to fix things, to say something—anything—that could make up for what he’d done.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to move on. You’d been avoiding Bakugo as much as possible, throwing yourself into training and schoolwork to keep your mind occupied. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time you saw him, whether it was in class or during meals, you felt a sharp pang of hurt that refused to go away. You hated how much he still affected you, even after he’d made it painfully clear that he didn’t feel the same way.

But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you’d be fine without him, the ache in your chest lingered. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong to hope, if you’d been foolish to believe that he might have cared about you even a little.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting in his room, wrestling with his own feelings and cursing himself for the way he’d handled things. Because for all his bravado and pride, the truth was unavoidable: he couldn’t stop thinking about you. And the more he tried to push you out of his mind, the more you consumed his every thought.

The days following your rejection from Bakugo had been a haze of hurt and confusion. You tried to keep yourself busy—extra training, study sessions, anything to keep your mind from replaying the harsh way he’d dismissed you. But no matter how much you told yourself to let it go, it lingered. You still felt the sting of his words, the way he’d looked at you like you were an obstacle instead of someone he cared about. That wound didn’t heal easily.

You avoided him as much as you could. You’d shift to a different group during training, sit at the far end of the cafeteria during meals, and leave the common area whenever he showed up. It wasn’t as subtle as you hoped; your friends noticed, and you were pretty sure Bakugo did too. Still, you couldn’t face him—not after everything he’d said.

What you didn’t know was that your absence weighed on him far more than he let on.

Bakugo was not a man who easily admitted to mistakes. Pride had been ingrained in him from an early age, and he carried it like armor. But lately, that armor felt suffocating, like it was pressing in on him from all sides. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop replaying the hurt in your eyes when he’d lashed out. Every time he saw you purposely turning away from him or laughing with someone else, he felt a sharp pang of regret that he didn’t know how to fix.

Kirishima’s words lingered too. “You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out. But running from it won’t make it go away.” As much as Bakugo wanted to punch him for saying it, he knew it was true. He’d been running from his feelings because they terrified him. You terrified him—not because you were weak, but because of how much power you had over him without even realizing it. And that was what scared him most of all.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. Watching you avoid him, knowing he’d been the one to hurt you—it was eating him alive. If he didn’t do something soon, he was going to explode.

That’s what led him here, standing awkwardly a few feet away from where you sat on the bench outside. You hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on the notebook in your lap. For a moment, he hesitated, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar. Was this… nerves? He growled under his breath, frustrated with himself. He was Bakugo Katsuki, for crying out loud. He didn’t get nervous.

“Oi.” His voice came out rougher than he intended, and you jumped slightly, startled by his sudden presence.

You looked up, your eyes widening for a split second before your expression hardened. “What do you want?”

Bakugo flinched at the coldness in your tone, though he tried to hide it. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” you asked, already sounding exasperated. “If this is about training or some stupid lecture—”

“It’s not about training,” he cut in, stepping closer. His jaw tightened as he tried to find the right words. He wasn’t good at this, but he had to try. “It’s about what I said to you before.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into your expression. “Why are you bringing that up now? You already made your feelings perfectly clear, Bakugo. I don’t need to hear it again.”

He winced at the way you said his name—so formal, so distant. You used to call him Katsuki, back when things were simpler. Back when he hadn’t ruined everything.

“Just shut up and listen for a second, will you?” he snapped, though there was no real heat in his voice. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I… I screwed up, alright? I said some shit I didn’t mean, and I hurt you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your expression softened slightly, but your arms remained crossed, a barrier he knew he’d have to break through. “Then why did you do it? Why push me away if you didn’t mean it?”

“Because I’m a goddamn idiot,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. His gaze dropped to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. “I thought… I thought if I let myself like you, I’d lose focus. That you’d get in the way of my goals.”

“And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Now I know that’s total bullshit,” he said, finally looking up to meet your eyes. “You don’t make me weaker. You make me want to be better. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my head all the damn time, and it’s driving me insane.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, but you still hesitated. “You really hurt me, Katsuki,” you said softly, the pain evident in your voice. “I don’t know if I can just forget that.”

He stepped closer, his gaze intense and unwavering. “I’m not asking you to forget it. I’m asking for a chance to fix it. I was a dumbass, and I don’t deserve it, but… I want to try. With you.”

The vulnerability in his voice was so raw, so uncharacteristic, that it left you speechless. You searched his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was regret and determination.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this,” he interrupted, his hands twitching at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m not some smooth-talking idiot like Kaminari, and I’m probably gonna screw up a hundred more times. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m not gonna hurt you again.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his words sank in. This was Bakugo Katsuki—the same boy who never admitted when he was wrong, who bulldozed his way through life without looking back. And here he was, laying his pride at your feet, just for a chance to make things right.

“You’re really bad at this, you know,” you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

He huffed, his cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly my strong suit.”

You laughed softly, the sound making his chest tighten in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. For the first time in weeks, you felt the tension between you start to dissolve.

“So, what now?” you asked, taking a tentative step closer.

“Now I do this,” he said, his voice low as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he leaned in. His crimson eyes searched yours for a moment, and when you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance and kissed you.

The kiss was tentative at first, almost shy, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your hands reaching up to grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer. He kissed you like he was trying to make up for every moment he’d wasted, pouring all the unspoken feelings he couldn’t put into words into that one act.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads resting together, you were both breathless. He smirked, his usual cocky confidence creeping back in. “Told you I’d make it up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “You’ve got a long way to go, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed the gruffness of his tone. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around and prove it.”

And for the first time in weeks, everything felt right.

Feel free to request <3

[thevoidstaredback]

It all seemed to start within a snap of Time; the tick of a clock; the drop of a hat; the blink of an Eye.

Just before any of the assembled Justice League could leave the Watchtower, every alarm went off and pandemonium re-erupted across the space station.

"What the hell is going on?" Batman demanded as he and Robin re-entered the meeting room they'd just left.

Constantine and Zatanna were both using several different ways of communication, talking in frantic tone and jumping between conversations without losing any of them. Deadman had disappeared completely. The America based heroes were all getting calls, all just as confused as each other as to what was going on.

Batman pulled up a map on the projector, the one that was shown in the Observation part of the Watchtower, and glared at the red dot that was slowly taking over Illinois. "Constantine, Zatanna. What is this?"

Constantine glared back at Batman, "What we were trying to avoid by calling a meeting today!" He went right back to whatever conversation he was having in Esperanto.

"Yeah, look what good that did us anyway," Zatanna scoffed between conversations, "We were both late and ignored." She, too, had started speaking on Esperanto.

"That's where Red is based," Robin said quietly from beside Batman. "I-I need to call- make sure she's alright!"

Batman put his hand on Robin's shoulder. "Don't panic, chum, we'll get a plan started and then you can all Red Huntress." The boy nodded, but opened his own communicator anyway, likely to contact his team. Batman turned to the heroes in the room. "Everyone!" He waited until all eyes were on him before continuing, "Calm down. Constantine, Zatanna, find out what's going on-"

"Already doing that, Batsy!" the man hollered before jumping into a fourth conversation.

Batman's eye twitched behind the white lenses of his mask, but he otherwise didn't react to the interruption. "-the rest of us need to go and isolate the threat. We'll plan from there. Make sure your comms are on. Robin, get your team ready for rescue efforts and try to contact Red Huntress to see if she knows what's going on." When the heroes started moving, he grabbed Superman. "Where's Deadman?"

Superman shook his head. "No idea. He was gone by the time any of us came back in here."

Batman nodded and let him go. Everyone was on their way to Illinois right now, but there was something that Zatanna said that struck him as strange. He didn't have to wait ong before her three ongoing conversations all came to a stop. "Earlier, you said that Amity Park liked to stay in Illinois. What did you mean?"

Zatanna jumped when he spoke, obviously not realizing he was still there, but she answered him, "The city's been prime for supernatural activity since its founding. On top of the two dimensional rifts, that much magic contained in one area is bound to give it some form of sentiance, especially because most of that magic is death and life focused."

He hummed and left the room with a sweep of his cape. Containing the issue will be tricky if the source manages to move around them. Regardless, it needed to be done fast.

***

It took another twenty minutes before all five on Constantine's conversations ended. He had gotten the same unfortunate answer from all five of them, and, judging by the look on her face, Zatanna had been given the same news as him.

"We tried to warn them. We fucking tried-!" she slammed her fist down on the table, "But we were too fucking late!"

He ran a hand down his face with a heavy sigh. "C'mon, mate, let's go make sure they don't fuck anything else up."

"And help them defend the idiots that started all this? No way. Let them lie in the grave they dug."

"Horrible metaphor, love. And, as much as I hate to say it, we can't let the world get taken over."

"Why not? They've been practically begging for it to happen since Superman was first introduced. That's why the Green Lanterns had to step in and lay down the law, quite literally." She huffed. "Besides, the Realms won't be gunning for the world. They're looking for their child."

"And if they don't find the kid in perfect condition?"

"...I see you're point."

"Good! We're on the same page, then."

She sighed again. "How're we going to play this? Are we running interference?"

"No," he shook his head, "The only thing we can do is keep anyone from dying or attacking."

"Without Deadman to talk to the Realms?"

"Yep,"

"You realize how hard this is gonna be, right?"

"I'm gonna make Batsy pay me in hard liquor."

"Agreed."

***

The Justice League had set up a perimeter around the town of Amity Park, Illinois. They were a few miles out from the town, close enough to see it but far enough away as to not set off any panic. When Constantine and Zatanna arrived, they had made it very obvious that the town and it's citizens were probably very aware that they were there. They called another meeting, though only taking a few heroes away from watch. Zatanna was the one to explain things to them while Constantine kept tabs on the town in case it decided to move.

The heroes still weren't exactly sure what they meant by that.

Zatanna stood at the front of the heroes she'd pulled aside. Batman, Wonder Woman, Superman, Aquaman, The Flash, and Green Lantern stood in a half circle, all very clearly anxious to keep their eyes on the town. Too bad for them, this was her specialty, so she got to keep facing it while they turned their backs.

"They aren't going to listen to you guys," Zatanna said, "Like we tried to warn you earlier, their looking for a child that the US Government took from them."

"The one in the pictures?" The Flash asked.

"Yep," she affirmed, "His name's Phantom, like we said. He's this town's hero."

"I thought Robin said Red Huntress was the town's hero?" Aquaman wondered.

Zatanna pushed down the flare of anger with a deep breath. "Phantom has been operating for several months longer than Red Huntress. she is closer to being a hero while Phantom leans more towards being a vigilante."

"Is that why he doesn't stick around after his fights?" Superman tilted his head slightly in question.

"Yes," she glared, "Can I get back on topic, or are we wanting to waste even more time?" The heroes fell silent and she waited for a few seconds before continuing. "From what Deadman explained, Phantom is technically still a baby ghost because he's only been dead for about a year." She ignored the expressions on the heroes faces. "Not only that, but he's the favorite of several Ancient Beings. Think Primordials or Titans."

"Oh, dear," Wonder Woman whispered. Several had paled slightly.

Zatanna nodded. "Don't attack any of the Realms' people, not even in self defense. We're going to have to help them find Phantom, keep them from attacking the US Government, and keep the Government from attacking them."

"A bit late for that!" A new voice joined the group. They all startled, reaching for weapons and dropping into ready stances.

Above and slightly to the side of the group was a girl who looked to be in her late teens. She had teal-grey skin, a slight teal glow, and flaming teal hair tied in a high pony, bangs framing her face. Her eyes glowed the same radioactive green as Phantom's had in the picture, though less so. She was wearing black pants, a black crop-top, grey knee boots, and a single black elbow glove. There was a guitar strapped to her back that gave off a slight purple glow. Even from where the Justice League heroes were standing, they could feel heat radiating off of here.

"And you are?" Batman asked.

"Don't matter who I am, does it?" the girl sneered, "What matters is that you dickheads took one of ours." She very obviously assessed the small group, looking each person up and down with a frown on her face. "Phantom told me that this place had other heroes, so where were you?"

Superman blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Where were you?"

"I'm, uh, not quite sure what you mean."

"You're talking about when this place was catalyst for world threats, right?" Zatanna stepped forward.

The girl turned her full attention to the magician. "So, you knew?"

Zatanna nodded. "Me and my colleagues were keeping on eye on Amity Park after the rifts opened up last year."

The girl seemed to reassess the magician. "You're one of the ones Deadman told us about."

"You know Deadma?" Green Lantern asked. He was ginored.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Ember." She landed and held her hand out for a hand shake. "Deadman got the Council to agree to hold ourselves in Amity until the end of the day. After that, we move on our own."

Zatanna shook her hand. "I'm Zatanna. We're gonna find him."

Ember glared, tightening her grip, "You better. He's done more for this world than you heroes even know." She turned her glare on the others before flying back up. "And once he's back with us, where he belongs, we'll think about a cease fire." She left before anyone could get another word in.

Zatanna fell into a squat, her hands covering her face. "This is a nightmare," she whispered, "That definitely could've gone much better." She popped back up to her full height. "Well, you heard her. We've got 'til the end of the day to find Phanom."

The group shared looks, nodding at each other before separating to spread the word to everyone else

The first plan was the same one they had for every mission that needed quick recon done. Flash was sent out to get a location. Once he had one, they'd set off.

Part 1 Part 3