#since there’s already a lot of assumptions made about us

[ckret2]

I'd been meaning to do this since I found your account but today I read through the entirety of your Goldielocks fic (or at least, what's available) and all I can say is WOW !!!!!

You're really fucking good at writing these characters, capturing the lighthearted-yet-somehow-serious tone of the show, and the stuff you make up for worldbuilding fits right in with canon stuff. As a lover of making things canon-compliant and in-spirit-of-canon, this fic is like a dream come true. You're an amazing author !

I really look forward to your post-TBOB edits of the eclipse arc and the flatworld arc, I can already kind of guess where you're gonna go with it, but it's still exciting to think about what direction you might take things.

I'm also wondering, are you planning on changing anything about the Death Valley girls, what with the info we got about ciphertology and the like ? Or keeping them relatively the same ?

(I stayed up till almost midnight reading this - I'm so glad I don't have to be anywhere early tomorrow)

Thank you!! I've discussed my TBOB edits of the eclipse arc already, you can see some of them here if you want.

For the flatworld arc, I actually think basically nothing's going to change. Spoilers, but: Bill's world was never gonna be like Flatworld. It was gonna be a big reveal late in the fic ("big" for the characters, not the readers lmao) that Bill's world was actually pretty okay—like yeah, a few flaws, but not "barely-exaggerated satire of Victorian-era ableism/sexism/classism" flaws—and everything the kids read in Flatworld that made them pity Bill was 100% bullshit. It was going to turn out that Bill's world is actually...

... pretty much fucking exactly like Euclydia ended up being in canon—up to and including baby Bill getting medical trauma over having a super-rare cool-ass eye mutation that lets him see the stars of the third dimension.

I was gonna have Bill go "oh yeah, that's why I drove the author insane, I was that pissed at him for making my home world look that bad. I didn't correct you guys because I thought it'd be useful if you pitied me."

I did this because, before TBOB came out, I knew that no matter what I wrote about Bill's home dimension, probably a good 20% of readers would just push it to the side and automatically assume that his dimension was exactly the same as Flatland—like, occasionally readers were making comments about my fic talking about how triangles ***ARE*** oppressed in his home dimension like it was a canonical fact and taking it as a given that I was writing that. For that 20%, it seemed to me like the best way to ensure it got through to them that whoa, this isn't Flatland would be to have the characters assume his dimension is exactly the same as Flatland so that I could say, in story, "no that's totally wrong."

Post-TBOB, a lot fewer readers are gonna make that assumption. But having the characters assume his dimension is a lot worse than it really is is still a part of the story—it ties into the narrative of them slowly growing to expect him to be something more sympathetic/heroic than he actually is, a la Dipper's assumption that the Axolotl poem is a prophecy about how Bill will help save them—so there's no reason for me to take it out.

So yeah, tl;dr: Flatworld doesn't need to change because it was always going to be wrong.

I'm only gonna change the Death Valley girls a little bit. Everything I've currently written about them stays the same; except I'm also gonna mention that, yes, they are a Ciphertology sect, and yes, all the girls in the cult are Cipherwives.

So now I also get to crack jokes about Bill being both flattered and a little creeped out that even after he mostly ditched the cult they just kept inducting new recruits as "cipherwives" whether he showed up or not, like wow, you're just gonna marry him off in absentia to some lady he's never met??? What if he doesn't wanna marry her? What if he doesn't like her haircut?? Every time he shows up he finds out he's got a new wife! He loves the attention, but jeez, girls! At least send him a letter with his new bride's picture and wait for him to mail back an "OK" or something!

[bi-dykes]

Ah yes, we’re actually all just lesbians not bi, that must be the only reason why we are deeply moved by her music

if ur a bisexual women who's "deeply moved" by chappel roans music.

i got some news for ya...

[strwberri-milk]

Hello!! Sorry if this is lengthy but can you please do a "I didn't know we were dating." Scenario/HC where MC/reader didn't know that they were already dating the LaDS guys meanwhile the guys have been preparing to celebrate their 1 year anniversary together and reader/MC is confused because they thought that the LaDS guys were just being close and affectionate cause they were good friends and the LaDS men are like "We've been together this whole time!"? (And this whole time MC has been pining for them but they thought their feelings were one sided)

Please feel free to ignore/delete this if it's too lengthy 😅

hhhh im modifying this to a few months bc tbh i dont see any of the boys going that long without making some sort of clarifying statement that makes it clear you two are dating we love kings of communcation <3

Zayne was always warmer with you than anybody else. You never thought of it as anything other than platonic, especially considering you've overheard him talking to his colleagues about needing to see his partner or bringing something over the next time he sees them. You never asked him about it since he never seemed to say anything about them to you, thinking that he was just wanting to keep his relationship private.

It's not until one day when you hear him on the phone use your name in conjunction with calling you his partner that you think to ask him. You wait for him to finish his call, asking him what he meant by that. He's just as confused, asking if the two of you were dating. He'd thought you were since you never said anything to the contrary and seemed just as happy to spend time with him. You have to finally admit to him that you had no idea, the two of you laughing awkwardly at the assumption that was made. You end up making things official, finally going on your actual first date the same day.

Xavier was always all over you. You thought it was because he didn't really seem to have many friends outside of yourself, not minding it at all since you liked him just as much, if not more. You don't think to ask why he feels so comfortable around you, knowing that honestly, you felt just as comfortable around him yourself. Not only that, but since you had feelings for him allowing him to be as touchy as he was allowed you to fantasize about the two of you being more.

One day he tells you he loves you out of the blue, making you a flustered mess. You cover your face, trying desperately to hide and ask him why he's suddenly saying all that, only to be attacked with the fact that he's asking why you haven't said it back. He looks sad, asking if you don't love him and your relationship wasn't as serious as he thought it was. You ask him what relationship, leading to you finding out that he thought you said yes to being his partner when he asked you after a sleepover one morning. It's a little mortifying but you don't mind now that you know, hugging him tightly and telling him that you love him more than anything.

Rafayel has always been nice to you, practically crawling into your lap whenever the two of you are hanging out. He loves to hold you, burying his face into your neck and saying the sweetest things - the exact opposite of the man he presents himself to be. You just assumed that him being this needy was a reflection of how comfortable he is with you, totally unaware that he was trying to figure out how to make your first kiss perfect.

He invites you over for dinner - an occurrence that was becoming more and more common - fully intent on making a move on you tonight. You thank him for the meal, totally panicking when you realise he's a lot closer to you today then he is other days when he comes over to grab your finished plate. He's about to kiss you when you push against his chest, asking him what he's trying to do.

He's just ask confused, asking why he can't kiss his partner, which then makes you spiral even more. You tell him that the two of you aren't dating, which just makes him even more confused. Cue a conversation about the fact that he thought you two were dating and he was trying to kiss you because he wanted to. He wins in the end but your heart definitely stopped a few times from th excitement of the evening.

Sylus straight up calls you his partner to your face. You thought it was just a new pet name he was testing out on you, not taking it seriously. He calls you so many pet names that you almost tune them out, thinking that the affectionate way he looks at you was just a side effect from him teasing you slightly.

It's not until you hear the twins referring to you by the pet names teasingly in Sylus' presence that you start to think that maybe there's something to it. He tells them that he can call you whatever he likes because you're dating him and that if you didn't like it you would have said something already. He doesn't know you're listening in, nor that you're freaking out because you had no idea that you two were dating.

Now he ends up needing to tell you that you two have been dating for a while as far as he's concerned. He tells you that he thought he made it clear with the fact that he told you to your face that he considers you his partner, blaming you (playfully) for being too dense to realise he was serious.

[nemisuki]

Behind The Walls

Zombie Apocalypse AU | The society you used to know was long gone when the outbreak started. You were supposed to be worrying about what to wear at your graduation, not about what house to scavenge for supplies. You find yourself sticking together with your blonde classmate, only to be separated from him soon after. Living in a world without humans was isolating, but a world without him is just lonely. 

᧔o᧓ || Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader, no manga spoilers, no nsfw, no quirks, kinda depressing at first ngl, minor gore and blood mentioned bc zombies duh, angst but happy ending, first kisses, love confessions, minor time skips, starts as third years and ends around 19-20 yrs, tamed bakugo bc he's mature yet still feisty, 5.7k word count

According to the tally marks scribbled down in her flimsy notebook, it's been exactly three months and 10 days. 

Three months and 10 days of being on her own. 

Everyday it gets harder to think about the past, so she chooses to ignore it as her day goes on. She tries to avoid leaving the house as much as possible. Not leaving her temporary base, unless it's time to scavenge for supplies like food or water. 

When she does go out, she can only hope that she’ll find something edible. Majority of the time getting lucky by finding rusted cans of food or forgotten granola bars. It's been a few weeks since she ate her last fruit. A package of dried mango. 

Due to the sudden transition from fall to winter, it was hard to find such delights. Not leaving her much time to cherish it for a future occasion. 

It’s winter now. 

Years ago she would've been happy at the sight of snow. 

But the world is different now. 

Instead of feeling joy at the sight of the first snowflake, she quickly made her way back to her hideout. Grabbing her bookbag and packing all her essentials in it, which wasn't a lot in the first place. 

She couldn't stay much longer in this house during the winter. The structure was practically crumbling by the day and certainly wouldn't hold up in the cold climate. Honestly, she was lucky that it held up till now. 

It was at night where her mind constantly wandered back to the past. 

Back to him specifically. 

(∩˃o˂∩) flashbackᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

In a single day, society lost all aspects of humanity. 

But moments before that, came the main topic of discussion — romance and crushes. Typical girl talk. 

It didn't take long for her classmates to notice how quiet Y/N had gotten. Seemingly extra shy all of a sudden. They all squeal knowingly and nudge her to “spill the beans” on who she has her eyes on. Though everyone already knows. Hell, the whole grade probably knows. 

She dismissively waves her hands around trying to deny such silly assumptions. But her eyes go on autopilot and land on the destination – his desk. 

The blonde who seems to be slouching in his seat, is spewing curses towards the ‘extras’ who come up to him so casually as if it's any other day. The infamous hot head has definitely mellowed out over the three years. Yet his temper never disappeared completely, well not like anyone minds it now. 

Spending 8 hours around complex personalities such as his, makes you immune to their empty threats and insults. Anyone who spends much time with him, such as his classmates, knew he didn't mean harm.

As everyone waited for the teacher to arrive, that's when the screams started in the hallways. 

Y/N could never forget the scene of everyone collectively pausing their conversations to listen. To question what exactly is going on. 

Soon the odd noises started multiplying. Students began running down the hallways, yelling at the top of their lungs with complete fear displayed on their faces. 

It was then when panic kicked in. 

The speakers soon switched on in each classroom and hallway. The principal's voice echoed throughout the school, clear unease in his tone.

“ALL STUDENTS AND STAFF LEAVE THE PREMISES NOW! A UNKNOWN VIRUS HAS SPREAD THROUGHOUT THE BUILDING. PEOPLE ARE GOING FERAL AND BITING ONE ANOTHER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL! PLEASE SAVE YOURSELF-” 

The sudden announcement was cut off by screams of pain and unknown groaning from the attacker. Not much longer, anxiety surged through everyone's body. Everyone ran out of the classroom trying to get away from an unknown threat. 

Y/N rushes out alongside her classmates, attempting to make her way through the crowd. Students pushing one another to reach the closest exit quickly. She yells out to her friends who are farther up ahead for help. Her height comes to be a disadvantage for her as she gets shoved around left and right. 

Making no progress whatsoever, her classmates make it out of her sight. Unable to hear Y/N's voice due to the screams and chaos around them.

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

Her heart starts beating at an uncontrollable rate, complete dread taking over her body as she's left alone in a crowd of unfamiliar faces. Her mind is going on loop, praying to whatever god out there, to save her. To help her. 

She can feel her vision get glossy as tears start to form. And then not a second later, she feels a warm hand wrap around her waist. Pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. 

Her body jumps at the sudden contact and she quickly looks up to her side, only to see those red eyes staring back down at her. 

“There you are” he says while inhaling a deep breath of what seems to be relief. His eyes quickly looked over her figure, seemingly to look for any sign of injury or pain. 

“B-Bakugo-” 

“We don't have much time. C'mon, we're leaving another way, this crowd is doing us no good” he says, cutting her off before she could even reply. Using his arm that was resting on her waist to easily lift her off the ground. 

She yelps in shock and quickly wraps her arms around his neck to stabilize herself, not wanting to fall from his grasp. He shoves past the mass of students and runs towards the library, the room now empty of people and eerily quiet. 

Y/N wanted to ask why he brought them here, but her question answered itself when he ran towards a window and set her back down on the floor. A fire escape visible on the other side of the glass. 

“Stand back nerd” he yells in her direction as he picks up a chair then starts to continuously hit the window with all his strength. 

Only after a few tries does the glass shatter with a loud crash. He uses the silk curtains to dust away the shards from the window frame for an easier path. With ease, he hops over the open wall and stands on the ground of the metal fire escape. 

He looks back and beckons for her to approach quickly. She can still hear screams coming from behind her in the hallway, making her legs move immediately to the shattered window. She was about to climb over when he looped his hands under her arms, picking her up like a doll and pulling her outside with him.

Once again, setting her down beside him. 

“Let's go. And don't move so fast, this fire escape might be old as hell and fall to the ground with us on it” he says while starting to walk down the steps first. 

“Do you know what's going on? There were some students in the hallway with blood on their uniform” she says, completely frightened as they started to descend down the steps in a quick yet careful manner. 

“No damn idea. But what I do know is that we’re getting the fuck out of here” he grumbles as he’s seemingly in thought. Likely trying to come up with a reason as to what's happening.

They both pause in their steps when they look towards the front of the school. Y/N gasps and covers her mouth in horror of the sight. While Bakugos eyes widen as he looks ahead at the entrance gates of UA. 

It was a massacre. Screams of pain and terror echoing around the area. Corpses of students and staff members are on the ground, bloodied and missing chunks of their bodies. Some of the dead now standing up, and moving around sluggishly to attack those who are running by. Eating eachother alive. The walking corpses only multiplied in numbers by the minute.

The movies became reality that day.

An unfortunate reality.

“Zombies” Bakugo says as his fists clenched at his side while looking at the scene playing out before him. He mutters a variety of curses under his breath and quickly takes out his phone to check if he has a signal of any kind.

“No damn signal. Of course!” he groans and puts his phone back in his pocket. He quickly looks in her direction as he tries coming up with a plan, “Nerd listen up. We’ll go to my house since its nearby then-” 

Bakugo pauses when he sees the expression on her face. Her fearful face and glossy eyes with tears already spilling out as she looks at the sick scene of zombies tearing into others flesh. Recognizing a few students from other classes or by passing them in the hallways. 

A few seconds later his hand lifts up to turn her head to face him, and not at the gruesome sight below. She can see the neutral expression on his face, and she bites her bottom lip to avoid more tears falling down. Not wanting to seem so weak in front of him. 

“Can we stick together?” she says with a wavered voice while wiping her tears away. 

“Tch. What kind of stupid question is that? Of course we're gonna stay together. Don't need you running off and getting yourself killed” he says quickly with furrowed brows, as if he's offended she'd even think he’ll leave her alone. 

He can still see the fear in her eyes and he sighs. Resting his hand on her cheek as he speaks in a confident manner, “Alright, pay attention because I'm only gonna say this once. Me and you are not going to be separated. Do you know what I did when we all dashed out of that shitty classroom? I looked for you. Because I knew your ass was gonna be scared as shit.” 

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

Her breath wavers at his words and admission. It made her body feel warm all over. Her tears are no longer present anymore. She notices how quickly he lets go of her chin and averts his gaze. Suddenly embarrassed by his own words, as the tips of his ears turn red. 

“So uh, don’t cry or whatever. You're with me from now on. What, you don’t trust my abilities to protect you or something? I ain’t weak ya know” he huffs scratching his head and avoiding her eyes. 

“I trust you” the words exit her mouth before she can even think. 

She does trust him. More than anyone.

Y/N knows how much he’s changed since their first year at UA. And she can't help but to have fallen in love with him along the way. Though that’s for another day, for now they’ll need to survive.

“…Good. Now c'mon my house is a few minutes from here. We'll stay there and come up with a plan” he says quickly grabbing her hand all of a sudden as they walk down the fire escape. He doesnt turn around or talk much after that. But his flushed ears say otherwise. 

The journey to his home was mostly silent, but their hands stayed intertwined. When she asked him about it, he simply spoke about her being “a notorious klutz” and having to keep tabs on her. 

Both of them avoided the topic after that, to focus on getting somewhere safe for now. Maybe one day, when things settle, they’ll finally talk about this tension between them. It’s long overdue anyways. 

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ  ⎯⎯ ✦

That was a year ago. And they never did have that talk about romance. 

Months went by and the two were on their own. It almost felt as if they were the last survivors on earth. Not another human to be found. 

Then everything changed when they were on a scavenger run. 

There were just too many zombies. A huge hoard came out of nowhere, almost as if they were collectively migrating west like the birds in the sky. 

Both of them ran towards the forest, assuming their best chance of survival was to camouflage alongside the patches of green. Yet neither of them could escape the corpses' line of sights. 

Bakugo mutters curses under his breath as they run, “Oi! Y/N I need you to run east, find a house and stay hidden til I find you. I’m going to distract these bastards away and run in the opposite direction-” 

“W-what?! No, I can't leave you!” she quickly says, looking at him as if he lost his mind. 

“Damn it Y/N! At this rate we’ll both die out here. Now go!” He practically shoves her to change courses.

“B-but-” she looks back at the hoard and then to him again. That's too many to take on his own, not even he could…

“GO YOU IDIOT!” 

Y/N looks at Bakugo one last time as she grits her teeth in pain and frustration, “Don’t die you dummy! I-I love you!” 

His eyes widened at her sudden declaration of love. It took him a moment to react but his lips curve very slightly upwards, “Hah you idiot, as if I’ll die to these weaklings! Now go!” 

With a pain in her heart, she changes directions and starts running towards the city as instructed. Some zombies break from the pack and continue chasing her but Bakugo yells out to get as many as their attention as possible. 

She feels sick to her stomach despite the smile he gave her. Wanting nothing more than to turn back around to find him. But she knows it’s best to listen to him. To trust him. So she runs east. 

Runs, runs and runs. 

Y/N enters the first house she sees and quickly shuts the door. Sliding against the wall as she inhales gasps of air, trying to recover her energy. Other than her own racing heartbeat and breaths, it’s quiet.

Too quiet. 

She’s gotten used to Bakugos loud presence around her, only feeling more lonely now that he’s gone. But he’ll be back soon. Right? 

Quickly she shakes her head of any negative thoughts. He’s completely capable on his own. 

She grabs her baseball bat and proceeds to walk around the house. Thoroughly checking every room for potential threats. Thankfully finding nothing in the home. 

She remembers the survival tips he taught her and quickly gets to work. Making sure every door is locked, boarding up the windows and picking a resting place where there’s always two exits if needed. 

Her stomach growls and she sits down, unwrapping a granola bar from her pocket. Eating in silence as she waits. 

Days will soon pass and no sign of him. 

She wants to go out. Look for him. Maybe he’s lost. But what if she leaves and he comes to an empty house? 

After some thought, Y/N decides to track the days in an old notebook she found in one of the rooms. If he doesn't show in 2 more days then she’ll head out. 

When the time comes, she leaves the house to look for him in the woods. For any clue or sign. Leaving behind a note at the house in case he shows up while she’s away. Bold writing stating ‘Bakugo stay here. I’ll be back’. 

She came back that evening, empty handed with no clues. Coming back to the house exactly as she left it. That night she could only curl up in the old mattress she found, cuddling into a blanket as she cried herself to sleep. Missing Bakugo. And thinking the worst.

(∩˃o˂∩) flashback over & back to present  ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Y/N continues walking east, using the sun to guide her in the right direction. A tip she learned from none other than Bakugo. It’s been 3 months and 10 days according to her journal. 

No human interaction. No sign of Bakugo. 

She left another note at the house, in case he did manage to make it back one day. Telling him that she’ll continue heading East. 

Overnight it snowed a tremendous amount, much to her disappointment. It’s freezing and she didn’t have good quality clothing. Using a bunch of old ragged clothes to bundle herself up in layers.

What’s worse is that she’s low on supplies. It’s harder to scavenge during the winter. Animals go into hibernation and there’s no berries growing in the forests. The only food in her bag currently is a single can of beans and some crackers. 

She continues walking east, taking occasional breaks and hiding from zombies who she avoids contact with at all costs. The only good thing about winter is that they slow down the zombies' movements. 

Y/N doesn’t continue her journey anywhere else but East. It has to be East. Her legs take her as far as they could, til the sun starts setting. She looks around and sees nothing but trees around. No shelter in sight. But thankfully no zombies either. 

So she keeps going. Yet soon she notices the wind start to pick up, snow falling down heavier than before. Just her luck. 

A blizzard. 

Her body battles against the harsh winds and she shivers uncontrollably. This isn’t good. She genuinely might freeze to death out here. Tears want to fall yet it’s so cold that her body is unable too. Her body feels so heavy, so weak. 

After a few more hours, in the pitch black forest, she sees it. Smoke floating up into the air, the sound of engines in the distance. People. 

Her heart nearly stops right then and there. People? Survivors? 

It’s been over a year since she’s seen other humans who aren’t Bakugo. She doesn’t have any other choice, it’s either ask for help or die out here in the cold. 

With newfound hope in her heart, she continues walking forward. Her eyes slightly widening at the sight in front of her.

A military base. 

Oh my god. A campsite of what looks to be soldiers with vehicles. Concrete walls are all around the perimeter, snipers are on watch towers as they walk around. 

She tries taking multiple steps forward but her legs are so shaky, “E-Excuse me…” she says as her teeth chatter, she definitely won’t get their attention like that. Even if she ran it would take her minutes to reach the base. 

Slowly with weak arms she lifts her flashlight and flicks it on and off in the direction of the watchtowers. Hoping to get someone’s attention, anyones whatsoever.

After a few tries, someone on the watchtower seems to notice. They talk to the other guards and a few minutes later, the gates soon open. A military car zooming out and coming into her direction. 

Her knees give out. Due to relief or fatigue she doesn’t know. She falls onto the ground of covered snow and her eyes struggle to stay open. 

She hears the vehicle pause nearby and a man shout “It’s a survivor!” 

Her eyes squint trying to regain her sense of sight, yet all she can hear is mumbles all around her. Then soon, feel herself being picked up and loaded into the back of a truck. 

“She doesn’t seem to be infected!”

“Quick check her vitals!”

“She's freezing to the touch!” 

“Ma’am? Can you hear me? You’re safe now”

“What's your name?”

Her eyes slowly start closing against her will but she tries answering, “Y-Y/N…”

Everything is a blur after that. All she could remember is the feeling of warm blankets being draped over her. Then just darkness. 

(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ time skip⋆｡𖦹 °✩

It's been a while since then. Two weeks since she's been temporarily situated at the main base. 

For a few days she was in and out of consciousness, fighting against her hyperthermia and malnourished body. But after much treatment from the medical team, she was able to finally wake up and adjust to her new surroundings. 

It was so different, yet so familiar.

She resided in a tent with other survivors who had similar stories. Though she tended to keep to herself, despite feeling joy at no longer being alone, it wasn't the same as with Bakugo. 

The survivors in her tent often spoke around the campfire as they ate the food that the soldiers provided for them. Then the topic of discussion suddenly switched. They went around speaking of their past loved ones or companions they lost along the way when the outbreak started. 

“And you Y/N? Did you have anyone before the world went to hell? You don't have to share if you don’t want to of course” 

All eyes look in her direction, waiting for her to speak. She hesitates but stares at the fire as she speaks, “I was at school when the outbreak started. We heard screams in the hallways, and an evacuation announcement soon after. I ran out of the classroom, lost my friends in the crowded hallway. Honestly I felt like I was gonna get trampled at some point-” she weakly chuckles at the thought and a small smile forms on her face. 

“But then a classmate found me. We managed to get out of the building in time. Spent a year together after that… just the two of us” she says while a wavered voice towards the end. She clears her throat trying to regain herself and speaks quicker.

“We got separated after that. There were too many zombies chasing us, so he ran another direction to lead them away. Haven't seen Bakugo since that day-” she cuts herself when she hears silence. Too much silence. 

She looks up from the fire and around at the group. Noticing their widened eyes and stunned expression. 

“W-What?” she says awkwardly scratching the back of her head, not knowing why they reacted so differently to her story in specific. 

“Did you say Bakugo?” an older man asked her quickly with furrowed brows. 

Honestly she didn't even realize she let his name slip out of her mouth, “Oh.. yeah his name was Bakugo-” 

“As in Katsuki Bakugo?!” another woman jumped in with a curious expression. 

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

Y/N could almost feel everything freeze at that exact moment. Her eyes widened at the woman's words. Everyone seemed to notice her sudden look of shock and another man quickly interjected, “A blonde guy with red eyes and a grumpy as hell temper right?!”

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

“Yes! Do you know him?!” Y/N says nearly jumping out of her seat and dropping her plate of food. Newfound hope in her eyes. 

“That guy was brought here a while ago! The soldiers found him in the woods all exhausted and bloodied up. Apparently the guy took on a hoard of zombies himself. He kept refusing to come here, saying that someone was waiting for him back home. But he passed out from exhaustion before he could refuse. The soldiers returned with him after and he's been here ever since” the man says as the others smile at the realization. 

“Where is he now?!” she quickly says, grabbing her boots and tying up the laces. Already feeling her heart rate skyrocket at the revelation. 

“He works here as a soldier! His group should be coming back from an expedition any moment now at the front gates!” 

“Go get him girl!” 

“You got this Y/N!” 

She shines the brightest she's had in a while and nods at the group, “thank you all!” 

Her legs ran as fast as she could towards the front of the base. Her smile never leaves her face. She knew it. She knew he was alive. 

In a matter of minutes, she makes it towards the front gate and runs over to join a group of awaiting survivors. “Excuse me, did a group return from an expedition just now?” she says to a woman as she tries to steady her breathing. 

“Hm? Not yet, they're opening up the gates now. You made it just in time. I'm waiting for my boyfriend, are you as well?” a female says as she smiles at her. 

Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at the question, suddenly growing flustered. She didn't even know what type of relationship she had with Bakugo. 

Sure they were alone together for a year and had clear feelings for one another, yet they never did establish anything between them. The woman notices and chuckles, “So you are! Then let's pray for everyone's return hm? Oh look, here they come!” 

The gates slowly open up, revealing a large group of soldiers on the back of trucks and cars. People cheer as the vehicles pull into the base and the gates close back up once everyone is in. Soldiers scatter around to find their families or loved ones that are waiting for them. 

Y/N walks around the crowd looking in every direction trying to find him, that blonde hair that she misses so dearly. With no luck, she can feel her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach. 

Til she spots it and freezes in place. 

That spiky blonde hair that she hasn't seen in months. 

His back is to her as he speaks with other soldiers, “Restock on supplies and take the injured to the medical tent. And someone get me a report tomorrow on the number of casualties we faced on the expedition” he says in an authoritative cold tone as he walks towards a tent. 

“Yes Captain!” 

Her eyes don't leave his figure as he disappears behind a large green tent. He looks both healthier and stronger now, she can tell by the increase in his back muscles through his uniform. 

And captain? He's captain of a squad… she shouldn't be so shocked. Of course he is, given his incredible leadership and survival skills. 

She shakes her head to get out of her thoughts, now running towards that tent with purpose. Her hand shakingly hovers over the tent curtain to move it out of the way-

“I told all soldiers to not bother me after the expeditions. Stand down soldier” he yells out as if he sensed her presence. 

Y/N smiles at the sound of his voice and pushes past the curtain. It was clearly his tent. Where he slept and resided after missions. Her eyes land on his back as he is taking off his gloves, he pauses and tosses them down on a nearby desk. Turning around to face her for the first time. 

“Oi. State your name and rank, for disobeying orders you shall be-” 

His whole body stiffens as he looks at her. His eyes widening and his words wavered towards the end. Their eyes meet instantly. He looks like he's seen a ghost. 

“Y/N-” 

“Katsuki!” 

Her legs moved forward before she could think. The gap between them lessened by the second. Tears were already beginning to spill out of her eyes. He quickly closes the distance, meeting her halfway. 

She wraps her arms around his neck, clinging to him so hard that her hands shake. Crying into the crock of his neck. His familiar scent invades her nose and sends warmth throughout her entire body. 

He's not doing much better. As soon as she reached him, his arms immediately wrapped around her waist. His breath came out in shaky breaths as he held onto her. 

“How- thank the gods. You're alive. Thank the fucking gods” he says in a hoarse mumble to himself or her, she doesn't know. He quickly pulls away to give her body a full scan for any injuries. When he sees nothing he lets out a loud sigh of relief.

“Katsuki-”

He lifts her head with his hand and leans down immediately. His lips finding hers in a desperate searing kiss. Her breath hitches but her eyes slowly close at the sensation. His hands find her waist yet again to pull her body flush against his. 

She's reminded of how warm his body was. His palms feel like it's burning his mark on her skin through her clothes. She can feel his fast heart rate against her chest, and she knows he can feel hers too.  

The kiss increases as time goes on. Only after a minute does he part away from her lips. They gasp for air, yet only for a few seconds at best. Because his lips were back on hers shortly after. 

But it wasn't lust filled whatsoever. His left hand trailed up her body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. This kiss was more soft. More tender. 

He slowly pulls away and his hand reaches her cheek, wiping away the remaining tears from her face. With this close proximity, she can see those red eyes she's missed so much. Her hand gently rests against his cheek, wanting to feel him. 

Making sure this is real life and not one of those hopeful dreams she's had in the past few months. 

“What happened? You went missing for months, I was looking all over for you. I thought you had…” she doesn't dare finish her sentence. Biting the inside of her cheek to avoid the tears resurfacing. 

“Some people told me that soldiers found and took you in. But it's been months and you're some sort of captain now? Were you ever gonna come back to me-” 

“I never stopped looking for you Y/N” he quickly says with furrowed brows. Still cradling her face. His other thumb massaging small circles on her hip to ease her nerves. 

He sighs and runs a hand through his spiky hair, “Shit- I wasn't supposed to stay here that long. Wasn't even gonna join them til I fucking passed out. I woke up here a few days later. Tried to leave but I had an injured leg, so they kept me here til I healed up. After a week or so, I realized how safe it was here. Safe for you.” 

His eyes meet hers again and the grip on her hip tightens. Guilt showing in those red irises. 

“I joined the soldiers immediately after that. I went out on every expedition near the east to keep an eye out for you. Did my best to show off my strength so I can quickly climb up the ranks. I knew if I left this place, it would've been near impossible to find you. They had vehicles and people I could use. I managed to become a captain in no time, and got my own group. Practically had to beg the leader of this place to give me the east section of patrols.”

He rests his forehead against hers and lowers his voice in a softer tone, “I promise. I have never stopped looking. I didn't just become captain to look for you. I'm making this place safer. For the other people here sure. But mainly for you. So we don't have to be separated ever again. I don't know how the hell you found me first, or what you've gone through on your own and you can tell me later but… I swear to you-”

His warm hand grabs hers as he kisses the back of it, “I will never let you be alone ever again. Because you're mine now. Got it nerd?” 

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

“Mhm…” she lets more tears fall down her cheeks, smiling at his words. Looking into his eyes as she forces every detail in her brain. During their time apart she was terrified she’ll forget his face. But now she won't have to worry. 

Bakugo scoffs and the corners of his lips turn up, “Cmon we're getting some food in you. You're thin as hell.”

She couldn't help but to laugh at his words, “I was eating a bit earlier, i'm not that hungry” 

“They have real mangos here-”

“Mangos?!” 

He lets out a rare chuckle and ruffles her hair as they start walking out the tent, “Yeah they do. Though I haven't tried them yet.” 

Her head snaps in his direction at his words, “What?! You're telling me you've been here for months and never tried the mangos?!” 

Bakugo hums and intertwines his hand with hers. She can feel her cheeks heat up as the people around stare at them with shock. 

“Didn't want to have the mangos” he grumbles as he leads her to the building. 

“Why not?” she says tilting her head in confusion. 

“They reminded me of you.”

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

“O-Oh… I see” she says softly with new found happiness. “Um Bakugo, why is everyone staring?” she whispers to him trying to change the subject. 

“Hah? Oh…. well I don't really have the nicest reputation here. The extras are probably shocked I'm holding your hand or something” he mumbles as his ears turn pink. But he doesn't let go of your hand. She doesn't mention it, thinking it's cute. 

Eventually they made it to the canteen, and all eyes were on them. But one glare from Bakugo caused everyone to look away and go back to their private conversations. 

Y/N follows him to a private room for the both of them, sitting down as he orders soldiers to get “the best mangos” they had. They sit in that room for hours. Both of them giving updates on the time they were away from each other. Happily eating a countless amount of the tropical fruit. The sweet taste rejuvenates both of their taste buds. 

“Um so about back then… I think about the last time I saw you everyday. Thinking about how I should have done things differently. I have many regrets in my life, but my biggest regret was not saying it back” he mumbles as he stares at her, not breaking eye contact. 

“Huh? Say what?” 

“I love you”

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

“I love you too” she says shyly looking at him and resting her hand over his hand.

He rolls his eyes and grumbles, “Yeah I know nerd. Now give me that rest of your mango if you're not gonna finish it!” 

“What?! No way!” She tries taking another piece yet she only sees Bakugo steal the plate. 

The two start going back and forth, stuffing their faces with fruit. Completely content with where they are right now. Now safe behind these walls, together.

[rebelspykatie]

Steve’s never had anyone show any genuine interest in the things he likes. Robin rolls her eyes when he brings up sports or silly movies that don’t have a bigger plot or character work. Even though she played soccer, she doesn’t care about it in the same way that Steve cares about basketball or football. 

The kids make fun of everything from his taste in music to his choice in snacks for movie nights. Mike calls him a little housewife for baking one time and he never shows up with cookies again. They’re never intentionally mean spirited, or at least he doesn’t think so. He knows he can give as good as he gets when it comes to catty, sarcastic comments, but he tries to steer clear of personal attacks on someone’s identity these days. He learned that lesson with Jonathan. 

But even before the party came along, it was like that. His parents never stuck around long enough to find out what he was up to, never attending a game or meet, and certainly in the dark about what he might be up to outside of school. Tommy only ever cared about himself and Carol, only following Steve around for clout, popularity by association. If he asked him right now, he’d bet a lot of money that Tommy doesn’t even remember his favorite food or the movie he used to watch when he was sick. There was a point where he thought he could share things with him. Until he realized mid ramble about sports cars that Tommy wasn’t even listening to him. He was staring at Carol and nodding along with a vacant expression. 

So he stopped sharing. Stopped caring if people knew anything about him because they never asked. People always made assumptions about him anyway. The girls he slept with only wanted one thing. The kids were happy to let him chauffeur them around with no questions asked. Robin was the only one he let in, the only one that cared about digging deeper. But, and she never said in so many words, he could tell that she thought his interests were mundane, and clearly not something that sparked any enthusiasm from her. She couldn’t even keep up with the girls he slept with, giving him the same bored stare as Tommy. 

Even now, after a few years, Steve’s reminded that they never would have become friends if not for trauma and the secret inner workings of the Russian’s within Hawkins. He’s lucky to have her, but he doesn’t think she ever would’ve chosen this, chosen him. And that’s fine. He’s used to not being chosen. His parents didn’t choose him when they started leaving him alone at age 12. Tommy and Carol chose each other and the reign of a new king when Steve fell from his throne. Nancy chose Jonathan. 

He doesn’t think he has a lot to offer. 

Well, at least until Eddie comes along. He’s taken by surprise when Eddie asks after the song that’s playing in his car. He’d assumed Eddie only liked metal music, and yeah he pokes fun at the genre of music Steve seems to stick to, begging him to give metal a shot, but he doesn’t say a word about how lame it is. When they’re having a movie night, Eddie notices that Steve gravitates towards coke and brings him one without Steve asking.

After Eddie sees his bedroom, Steve gets a pack of hot wheels for Christmas. Eddie jokes that he should give one to each of the kids as their new ride, since they seem to be ungrateful little twerps. Steve places them right under his posters on his dresser and Eddie grins at them every time he comes over. They lay in bed and pretend to drive them on the ceiling like they’re kids again. It shakes something loose in Steve’s chest. 

Eddie hates sports, but he invites Steve over on Mondays, when Wayne is perched in his chair for football. He quietly works on his campaigns while Steve and Wayne watch the games. Eddie somehow worms his way into Steve’s heart, digging deeper and deeper with each new thing, like he wants to know more. Steve’s history is a minefield, but Eddie expertly navigates through it, leaving who they were behind, building something new together. Steve’s already halfway in love with him before he even realizes that Eddie is something that he likes. 

He expects to freak out a bit more, but who is going to stop him? Who is going to care if he wants to be with this boy? He’s spent so long ignoring parts of himself for others that he wants to cherish this fragile thing, to cradle it in his hands, make sure no one can ruin it for him. When he kisses Eddie, it feels like coming home, like he’s finally found that place he’s been searching for his whole life. It’s a kind of devotion that Steve’s not used to, born of love and not obsession or jealousy or anger. 

He’s not sure he deserves it, but he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.

[charmedreincarnation]

When I say that this journey is real, and our struggles are not in vain, I am shouting it from the rooftops. A month ago, I woke up with my dream life. Obsessed with the "void state", I woke up one day being the same person but with an entirely new life. All because I chose it.

Your efforts aren't going unnoticed. The universe is always on your side. You are the universe. It's been a month, and I still feel overwhelmed with joy and wonder every single day.

I was once poor and battling depression, a reality many can relate to. But we found the law because we knew we deserved more. You can be ordinary, flawed, even unkind, but you can choose to transform and have it all. And I did just that. My parents, who were illegal immigrants working underpaid jobs, are now wealthy and respected figures. My last name alone garners recognition, and I am a socialite earning money just by being me.

I used to live in an attic infested with cockroaches. Now, I reside in a four-story mansion, complete with exotic cars, house help, cooks, drivers - all treated and compensated fairly. We also own three other houses across the United States.

I was once insecure, severely underweight, and bullied. Today, not only am I stunningly beautiful, but I am also praised for my fashion sense. I was once a dull person, but now I am radiant with positivity.

I attended an underfunded school where I was bullied, and teachers lacked resources to intervene. Now, I study at a prestigious private school that assures my entry into an Ivy League university. Finally, I am respected and appreciated.

I was lonely and uninteresting. Now, I am vibrant with a close-knit group of friends and a man who seems straight out of a Wattpad story. He's perfect, and he's mine.

This transformation happened overnight. And I've been on this journey since 2020. But how??? I surrendered to my imagination!

The void was overwhelming, but now I can easily navigate it. I was tired of giving my power away. So, I gave in to myself, to my dreams. I knew I deserved it. Even if I didn't believe it at times, I made the choice. If you desire something, it's already yours. It's done.

I didn't have a list or anything of my desires, just a vision of happiness. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew how it felt. Now, I embody that feeling every day. My life is a series of plot twists. It's not perfect, but my worst days now are what I once prayed for. That old life? POOF It's gone. All I have is now, and I'm living it to the fullest.

My advice?

Stop seeking proof. If you're looking for proof, you'll never manifest your dreams because the only thing that needs to change is self. Doubt is a reflection of your disbelief in yourself. When I surrendered to my imagination, it didn't matter who was lying or telling the truth, because I had my truth. The burden of proof lies within you. It's called the law of assumption. You might harbor some doubt, but you must have faith like the devout. They believe without proof. You can too! We all can! Believe in yourself, and the universe will conspire in your favor!!!!

I agree! Your words resonated with me a lot. Faith, particularly self-faith, is such an important tool in shaping our realities. The ability to trust ourselves, our desires, and our potential is essential in manifesting our dream life, and it’s only so beautiful to slowly see yourself give yourself all your trust when you’ve never even liked yourself.

You're spot on about the issue of seeking confirmation from others. It's an unnecessary hurdle that we give ourselves but it’s human nature. Our truths and dreams should not be validated by anyone else but us. As you said, why should it matter if someone lied or told the truth? We are the creators of our own lives and thus, the only validation we need comes from within.

And I wholeheartedly agree with your point about deservingness. We don't have to earn our desires or prove ourselves worthy of them. If we want something, that desire alone makes us deserving of it.

More importantly I am very proud and happy for you !!!! You’re a testament of what our own imagination can do for us and I hope you only keep getting happier and happier <3!!!!

[starlessnightsblog]

7 minutes in heaven with… Hyunjin?! ~pt 2~

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

18+ | fluff/smut | wc : 5.5k

╰─..★.────────────╯

what the actual fuck?

you thought. Hyunjin had flipped your world upside down, and it only took well, 7 minutes.. give or take.

and you dreaded monday.

you and him had a class together so seeing him would be inevitable.

and you felt, almost, bad for just storming out the other night, maybe even a hint of guilt.

you had told him to his face that you didn’t like him, and sure he was arrogant, and adorned with annoying popularity, but it simply wasn’t all that true.

you hated this, you couldn’t think straight. all you could think about was that night. Hwang Hyunjin, of all people. him and his tantalizing aura. his persistence. his closeness, his dark eyes.. his hands that swallowed yours.. those same hands on your body.. his fingertips roaming your skin. how he gripped at your curves, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. how soft his lips were and how they moved against your own—full of desperation. the sweet sinful taste that lingered. the words that poured out, quiet moans and his husky tone. the push and pull of the whole exchange. all desirous and needy…. was he like that with everyone? or was it just you?

that couldn’t be it, you thought. no way in hell. but would it be so bad if it was all you? deep down you wanted that to be true.

the memories clouded your thoughts so bad you couldn’t focus in class. it was no use, no exchange had ever been as captivating. no one had ever made you feel the way he did. you had to snap yourself out of it, you were literally in the middle of 2nd period, pressing your thighs together, growing more anxious by the second.

you didn’t see Hyunjin till your last period.

you were already sat at your desk when he had walked in.

the eye contact was magnetic as soon as he walked through the door. time fell still and you both froze. you looked down at your book. and he walked to his desk, right past you. and that was that.

it hurt a bit when he didn’t try to talk to you, but maybe that was your fault. you had some hurtful things and you started to doubt your previous assumptions, you had been delusional, of course. thinking what had happened between you wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him and that he didn’t really care.

figures.

⟡

Hyunjin had messed up, he knew that. he didn’t even attempt to talk to you, he couldn’t, one: he wanted to give you space. two: he didn’t know what words could fix it, what could he even say?

hey sorry about the other night i actually have the biggest crush on you and im sorry im such an ass and i shouldn’t of taken advantage of you, i just couldn’t help myself??

yeah ok sure.

in defense—for him, you were a siren. even if he had been the one who initiated the whole thing, you were hypnotizing, with your dulcet gaze and seraphic smile. it’s all he had been thinking about since. he couldn’t help himself, it was like the universe had answered a prayer for him or some divine intervention bullshit like in the animes he watched. he was a ‘P’ type after all. he believed in things like that, ironically.

but thursday, when the guilt had eaten him down to his bones, when piled up words got lodged in his throat after an awkward glance or pass in the hall—when he had enough of only seeing the back of your perfect pretty head, he thought, fuck it.

he walked in this time and sat right behind you in the empty desk, invading your personal space immediately.

“can we talk?” he whispered close behind you.

you ignored him.

he bit his lip, “pri—(y/n). …. at least hear me out.”

you rolled your eyes, sighing, “there’s nothing to say.”

“really? i can of think of a lot.”

silence.

he hesitated, “i- i can’t stop thinking about you.”

he felt strangely childish for revealing that, but fuck, it was true. you deserved the truth.

you turned your head slowly to face him after letting his confession linger in the air for a moment, now peering over your shoulder.

you still didn’t say anything.

he held his bottom lip between his teeth, feigning innocence, his eyes burned holes through your own.

he looked serious—melancholic. not like how he usually was, upbeat and relaxed. he genuinely looked like he had been losing sleep over this, over you.

you felt your heart ache at the sight. you didn’t know what to say. in what way did he even mean that? you or your body… that night?

but for Hyunjin, he just missed you. he missed your smile, he missed your voice, he missed your hands in his hair, around his neck, your lips, god, did he miss your lips.

when you didn’t say anything, he took it as a sign of defeat, and left to go back to his usual seat.

⟡

friday night your friend was dragging you to another party, not so much a drag this time, as you had hoped Hyunjin would be in attendance. so you put more effort into your appearance, hair freshly washed, extra attention to details, and even used your expensive perfume that was designated for special occasions. you wanted to try to finally speak to him, and you knew if that was gonna happen you would have to initiate it.

and finally after an hour of sipping the same drink, sitting on the same couch, you spotted Hyunjin out the corner of your eye in the midst of his usual friend group. and you didn’t move, just watched him, talking, laughing.

you had to admit, he looked good, like always. his hair was fluffy, falling on his shoulders. he wore all black, baggy jeans and adorned in sliver jewelry.

the whole week had been hell. his plead from the day before stained your brain like a glass of red wine spilled on the sofa.

you couldn’t help but miss him too, even when you felt like you shouldn’t.

your friend noticed your staring, the look of curiosity and longing in your eyes, she knew everything, you had cried in her lap the night before. she patted your knee, pulling your attention away from him.

“hey, how about some shots, yeah?”

you didn’t turn her down, maybe getting drunk would help.

wrong.

another drink and 5 shots later you found yourself walking straight up to Hyunjin who was mid conversation.

“we need to talk.” you state, and loudly over the music.

he looked at you wide-eyed, confused at your sudden presence. he didn’t think he would see you here, he smiled awkwardly.

“here, right now?”

he eyed his now confused group of friends who tried to hide their sneers and obvious confusion.

“right now.” you stood your ground. you favored an angry kitten, he thought.

he scoffed, pulling you aside.

“you’re drunk.”

“and? you’re impossible.”

he furrowed his brows, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you think on it, not actually knowing.

he rolled his eyes, “we can talk. when you’re sober.”

“no.”

“no?”

“did you mean it?”

his face twisted, he didn’t know what you were talking about at first.

“when you said you can’t stop thinking about me… what did you mean by it?”

people were starting to stare at you two now, Hyunjin noticed, he didn’t like it. he never liked unnecessary attention.

but he liked that you were finally giving him the time. less enthused that it was only because of the liquor, but you were still cute nonetheless. a pout on your lips, cheeks a little red, acting all demanding, slightly angry. it cheered him up a bit.

“i’ll tell you, but first, i’m taking you home.”

“i don’t wanna go home.”

he ignored you, grabbing you by your wrist. “where’s Chrissy?”

you sighed. “the kitchen.” you mumbled, over being unruly all of a sudden.

Hyunjin quickly found your friend and let her know that he was taking you home, he made sure it was all okay and you nodded when your friend looked at you for reassurance. maybe that was best, especially since the room spun when you walked.

Hyunjin led you to his car, helping you in gently.

the ride was quiet mostly, he turned on some music, it sounded indie? and romantic. you found it endearing, even in your state. something you didn’t expect from him. you looked over at him, he was so beautiful—breathtaking. the street lights catching his sharp features in the shadows as they passed, skin like wet glass. you probably stared at him for too long, either he didn’t notice or didn’t mind.

you felt yourself coming more to your senses, the cheap alcohol wearing off little by little.

his voice broke through the soothing ambience after awhile, “how ya feeling?”

“thirsty.”

he let out a tiny laugh, “we’re almost there.”

he didn’t take you home, instead it was his place you ended up at.

when you got back to his apartment, Hyunjin led you up the stairs, holding you so you wouldn’t fall. you let him be attentive, it was nice, attractive.

“thank you.” you mumbled while he tried unlocking the door.

“of course.”

“this okay?”

“what? you being here?”

it swung open, and he flicked the lights on.

“yeah.”

“you didn’t wanna go to your place, so.”

“yeah, my roommates suck, when it comes to having guys over.”

“you were gonna have me over?” he smirked.

you hit his arm playfully, rolling your eyes. you both giggled.

you stayed close behind him as you walked in. he stopped to take off his shoes so you did the same. but stumbled trying to get them off.

Hyunjin was there to catch you before you hit the wall. his large hands firmly on your waist and the small of your back, pulling you against him.

“you sure you’re okay?”

“these shoes are too small, they’re Chrissy’s-“

and when you looked up at him, there was those taunting, dark eyes.

you felt the blood rush to your cheeks and you swore, in that moment, he could hear the kick drum that was now your heart. your palms pressed against his chest, he was so warm, and you were so cold.

your eyes traveled down to his plush lips, like it was the first time all over again. he was such a good kisser you suddenly remembered. gentle and sweet—yet demanding and almost, possessing in the most perfect way. kissing him felt so right. your stomach did a cartwheel at the thought and you knew it wasn’t the cheep vodka this time.

“uh, can i.. can i shower?”

he quickly removed his hands from you and you took a step back.

“yeah, yeah sure. of course.”

“thanks.”

“i’ll get you some clean clothes, they might be a bit big, that okay? oh, and some water.”

you nodded, he pointed down the hall behind you, “bathroom’s at the end of the hall.”

“thank you.” you smiled.

he watched you make your way down the hallway, making sure you didn’t hit the wall a second time.

“of course princess.”he said under his breath, too low for you to hear.

a shower should help you sober up more, he thought. he was surprised you asked for one, surprised you were here at all, in his apartment. he wasn’t complaining though.

he’d gone to school with you for years, always sharing at least one class together since senior year, the year he transferred. who knew you would end up at the same university. maybe that was why you were so comfortable around him. you’ve kind of known each other forever it seemed, and you weren’t so bad, even if you acted like it, but he knew that already.

the bathroom was surprisingly clean for a man’s bathroom. you showered quickly.

you wrapped a towel that was hanging neatly on the rack around your dew dropped skin. when you opened the door, steam poured out and a shirt and some boy shorts? were laid neatly on the floor, and a bottle of water.

they were warm and smelled of fresh linen. Hyunjin must’ve thrown them in the dryer for you.

and now you felt like an idiot for being so obnoxious at the party earlier and a bitch at the last one. Hyunjin really wasn’t that bad. in fact, possibly the complete opposite of what you had always assumed he was and he had shown you that tonight without even trying.

after you put on his clothes you walked back out into the living room. Hyunjin laid on the couch, he had changed into something comfy too.

the tv glowed cool shades of cyan in the dark, providing the only source of light in the room besides his phone that his face was glued to—until you stepped out, it dropped on his chest.

Hyunjin held his lip between his teeth, his arm that was supporting his head shifted as he sat up a bit, making room for you on the couch. you looked comfy, cute. for some reason, he found you the most beautiful in this moment. drowning in his shirt that was too big for you, falling over your shoulder, bare faced. he felt his chest tighten at the sight. his thoughts ran wild for a split second and came to when you stood in front of him.

“last weekend.” you started.

he looked up at you.

“you said you didn’t want me like that…”

you placed your knee on the side of the couch, near his thigh.

“so…. how do you want me?” you whispered, your tone light as a feather.

Hyunjin straightened his posture and his jaw tightened—gulping for air. did he fall asleep on the couch? was he dreaming? his eyes scaled your body and he bit back a boyish smirk.

he reached his hand out slowly and traced it down your arm, you were warm, real. when he reached for your hand he intertwined his fingers with yours, he hadn’t dare met your eyes yet, if he did, he’d falter.

his other hand laced around the back of your knee—without hurry—testing the waters.

he drew you close, until you were straddling him.

“just like this.” he murmured.

“yeah?” your tone a mere whisper, settling into his lap now. a familiar position you had been missing since you left it the first time, your hands now rested on his shoulders.

“mhm.” he hummed, admiring you, bathing in bliss now that he had you close again. he couldn’t believe his eyes. he wasn’t dreaming—no. this was better than any dream he could have.

he’d been craving your warmth for what felt like years, he’d wait years for it too, it was that sweet.

his hands roamed from your thighs to your waist, you could feel the heat building up in between your legs, his touch was antagonizing—slow and soft. it burned your skin.

“i wanted to apologize.” he broke through the silence, “you should know, i wasn’t gonna go any further in that closet.”

“i know.” you tugged lazily on his shirt collar.

“you deserve a lot better than a shifty closet in a frat.”

you nodded, some of his hair fell in his face, you moved it out the way, letting your fingernails trail down, tracing his jaw and ending up back at the hem of his shirt.

your faint touch giving him goosebumps.

“show me.” you whispered, looking into his stormy eyes, batting your lashes.

a corner of his mouth raised as he inched closer till his lips were dangerously close to yours.

they hovered there for a few seconds before they just barely brushed before gently pressing them to yours, but it ignited your entire body.

as your lips melted together, the kiss grew into something greedy, hot and heavy. until you were both devouring each other. his hands found their way under your shirt to grip at your hips. it was everything Hyunjin had been craving for days, hours, minutes. desperately curving into one another, your hands in his hair, on his neck and down his back

you pressed down on his growing hard on, you could feel the heartbeat beating between your thighs. the softest moan escaped from your lips against his, causing both of you to break away for air.

he pulled back to kiss your neck.

it was a pleasure in it’s self the way he did it—hungry and sloppy.

he steadied himself, catching a glimpse of you, like this. “you’re so beautiful.” he whispered.

you opened your eyes to catch him staring at you with adoration in his eyes, a smile growing on his face.

you felt your cheeks get hot and you smiled softly. “you just know how to say all the right things, huh?”

your hands cupped his jaw, you rubbed his cheek with your thumb, then just under his bottom lip.

“only if it’s true.”

you coyly rolled your eyes.

he pulled you closer—as if you could get any closer—his grip tightening on your hips again.

he whispered close to your ear, “i wanna show you something.”

you leaned back, raising a brow at him.

and he bit back a smirk, the corners of his eyes crinkled as the words left his lips.

⟡

Hyunjin was chasing your lips as you hit the door to, what you assumed, was his room. he had you pressed against the cold wood. his hands around your neck. you took one of yours to search for the doorknob, finding it, you twisted it and it swung open.

the two of you stayed glued together as you stumbled back into the room. Hyunjin knew exactly where he was going, leading the way best he could whilst preoccupied.

you hit what felt like a mattress and had to pry him off of you to catch a breather, both of you giggling like love sick teenagers.

but for Hyunjin, breathing was the last thing on his mind, as he wasted no time dripping kisses all over your skin. to your jaw and cascading down your neck. he sucked on your flesh, leaving light bruises just above your collarbone. causing a breathless whimper to escape your lips.

Hyunjin had kept his composure all night, but now in your presence, with you so beautifully bearing your neck beneath him. he simply wanted to consume your entire being. to show you how much he wanted it—you. to devote himself to you. if you’d have him. he was experiencing catharsis. his dream girl all his finally. he’d make it well worth the wait. show you everything you didn’t even know you were missing, everything you deserved. you had so asked so nicely after-all.

“you sure you wanna do this?” he murmured.

you nodded, “im sure.”

“positive?”

you nodded again.

“we can stop, just say the w-.”

“Hyunjin!”

“hm?”

“shut up.” you pressed your lips to his, he smiled against the kiss.

you both sank into the sheets, your hands in his hair, his hands roaming your body. his fingertips snaked down to lace around the shorts you were wearing, still kissing you.

he lifted your shirt enough to expose your mid drift. his hands around your waist, he broke away, to plant a kiss below your rib cage, trailing a few more down on your plush skin till he reached the waist band of the shorts. you eyed him intently.

he pulled them down, taking his time. it sent shivers down your spine as cold air hit parts of you it hadn’t yet. then you felt his warm breath on your skin again.

he kissed right on your center. your head dropped back and you bit back a ‘fuck’. knowing exactly what was about to happen now. thank god you shaved, you thought.

Hyunjin watched your head fall, he didn’t take his eyes off of you, transfixed on your movements, your reactions to his touch.

he grew restless as the sight of your already wet cunt as he groveled between your legs.

he felt his dick pulsating in his pants, but all his focus was on you.

he kissed your center again, sucking this time, letting his tongue dance around, getting you more wet by the second. it was a sensation you hadn’t recognized, it was maddening.

he worked circles around your clit with his tongue, watching your rig cage rise and fall.

inhale,

exhale,

you cursed under your breath. he took his fingers and rubbed them upwards between your folds, finding your sweet spot, then began rubbing small slow circles around your already sensitive bud, picking up pace the longer he went.

after a few seconds he slipped one finger in, slowly curving it inside you. he left a gentle kiss before he started sucking again, just where it felt right before slipping in a second finger, pumping it in and out slowly as he worked on your high with his tongue.

you shivered beneath him, gripping at the sheets beside you as his slender fingers joined together inside you.

Hyunjin took his other hand and laced his fingers with one of yours when he noticed you grabbing at the fabric. his tongue danced laps around your clit, as his fingers pumped steady to the beat of the sweet elicit sounds pouring out your lips now.

you tried holding in your moans, but it only made it worse, the louder you got, the harder he went. knowing you were getting close.

Hyunjin had a way with his words, his eyes, his hands, his lips …so of course this was no different. heavenly was the only way to describe it. your chest heaved up and down quicker, curses like smoke out your mouth.

his eyes didn’t leave your shivering body, he was in awe.

he was eager, eager to please you, eager to watch you melt like honey in front of him, because of him. until you finally yelped, your legs twitched in his grasp. and he could feel your walls convulsing against his fingers, sending waves of bliss throughout your being as you came on his tongue.

Hyunjin lifted his head, breathing deeply. his lips and chin glistened with wetness. he licked his lips, savoring the taste.

you inhaled deeply as your high settled.

Hyunjin sat up, his hands tracing your lower body. his gaze lingered on yours as you watched him.

“so fucking pretty.” he murmured, holding his bottom between his teeth.

“stoppp.” you covered your face with your hands.

“but i mean it.” his tone faint.

“i know, but..” you blushed softly, holding your fingernail in between your teeth. “im not use to this.”

you were use to getting compliments, sure. but them coming from Hyunjin just felt different, he was so gorgeous, so unreal. you couldn’t put it into words how it made you feel, like he was really telling you the truth.

“i’ve always thought you were pretty.” he spoke, sincerity in his tone.

“you’re pretty.” you spoke, barely whisper.

he took your leg and draped it over his shoulder as his lips latched onto your inner thigh, he didn’t dare break eye contact with you as he made out with your velvet skin. he shifted his focus to your lips, missing the taste already. he leaned down to kiss you, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

you could feel his erection through his sweat pants pressing down on your bare cunt as he curved into your body. it ached for another release.

“Hyunjin?” you whimpered.

“yes princess?” he groaned between your lips.

you draped your leg around his waist, pulling him closer, pressing him into you more, just slightly. enough for him to notice.

he smirked at that, he pressed against you more. it started slow, easy. rolling his hips into you barely brushing your entrance. then it got hungry, harder.

you whimpered sweet sounds when his mouth latched to your jaw, then letting his lips drag down your neck, only to leave the softest bit on your collarbone.

your hand moved down to help him, rubbing his hard on against the fabric.

he moaned into your neck.

“princess….” his tone filled with agony and desperation.

“need you so bad.” you whispered in his ear.

Hyunjin wanted this so bad, he wanted this to happen, he did. it felt so good, but he couldn’t help but hesitate. he stopped all movements to look at you. your face was slightly red, lips bruised, eyes low. you looked angelic.

“you still sure? we can stop if..”

you cut him off. “i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want too.”

you reassured him, you kissed his jaw, then the corner of his mouth, as extra reassurance.

“now… take off your pants.”

he let out a low chuckle, sitting up off the bed.

you had to admit, you were curious as to what was underneath his clothes. you watched him with a glint of desire in your eyes.

first was his shirt, he pulled it over his head in one swift motion. and next his pants, then his black briefs and—

your jaw fell slack when your eyes landed on it, though you fixed it quickly.

he smiled. “you’re staring.”

Hyunjin didn’t seem like the shy type, yet he was blushing.

“can’t help it.” you smirked.

he clicked his teeth, coyly rolling his eyes.

“okay okay, your turn.” he scanned your still clothed figure with a sense of wonder.

you sat up on your knees, removing your—his—shirt slowly, seductively, tossing it on the floor. it took everything in Hyunjin to pull his eyes away, his brain fighting between modesty and unquenched desire. he bit his lip and crawled back on the bed, both of you getting back into the previous position you were in, getting tangled in the duvet. your nails trailed up his arms, till they rested at the nap of his neck.

“condom?” you asked.

he reached in his top drawer above the nightstand, and felt around for a little too long. “shit.” he hissed, pushing his hair back.

“what is it?”

“i don’t have any...”

“im on birth control. okay… well… when’s the last time you…?”

“had sex?” he tried to think. “can’t remember.. a while.”

“uh huh.”

“you think im a whore, huh?”

“well..”

“im not easy either, princess.” he smirked. “and you?”

“a while.”

“hm, good.”

you shot him a look, he chuckled under his breath. “sorry, sorry.”

“fuck it.”

you pulled him down to meet your lips, he captured your them in a tender kiss, positioning himself firmly in between your legs at the same time. he really liked kissing you, you were good at it. he liked to think he was too, but fuck, you knew exactly what you were doing.

He brought his hips down to met yours. grinding against your opening and shuddered at the feeling.

he took two of his fingers and brought them in between your warmth, that was still very much dripping.

“fuck,” he murmured with an exasperated breath.

he took his length and lined it with your entrance, still kissing you. then he dipped into the ocean between your legs, getting a taste.

Hyunjin wasn’t abnormally huge, but he wasn’t average either, so when you felt him break through, you moaned into his mouth, your nails gripped his skin harder.

he eased all the way in, letting you get use to it. then slowly he rolled his hips in, then out. like a deep breath.

inhale.

exhale.

he bit back a moan and buried his head in your neck. your lips on his shoulder, you kissed his salty skin as he fucked into you gently, letting you get use to the sensation.

then he picked up his pace, carving himself into you. quicker now. pushing deeper and deeper till he bottomed out inside you. sharp breathes escaping between his lips as he did so. like calm waves crashing against the shore under moonlight. only Hyunjin was the tide and you the soft buttery sand.

there was no warning when he started going faster, harder. his teeth leaving imprints on your neck to silence his own curses and breathing.

you nails dug into his toned back, as you began to see hints of stars, you arched into him, and he held you closer. one of his arms snaked around your leg, hoisting it up to reach even deeper into you, you were so soft, he noted to kiss your thighs later with his teeth.

exhales turned into whimpers turned into moans pouring out from both of you.. Hyunjin looked at you, your cheeks were flushed. he kissed you, it was desperate and ravenous.

it was more intimate than it had any right to be.

“fuck princess, you feel—so good.”

“more, more.” the words no than sighs fell from your bruised lips.

his hips roll into you harder, faster, deeper. your grip tightened on him, only making him want it all the more. you took him so well he thought, so good, like you were meant for him. you moaned into his neck, as his lips left sloppy kisses on yours. letting you know he’s here, he’s taking care of you.

his name, a jagged breath out your lips.

“don’t stop, fuck-“

he knew you were close, as your eyes started to roll back, can feel it like clouds forming before a thunderstorm, as you sing louder next to his ear.

he cursed under his breath. he chased your pleasure with his own, your legs kicked out, and he can see the tears that threatened to spill out your eyelids.

he watched it unfold, rolling his hips into you still.

inhale.

exhale.

sharp—quick.

you cry out as you ascend into nirvana, your walls clench around him as you cum, the feeling sending Hyunjin over the edge as well, he slips out of you with a hiss through gritted teeth. letting go all over your sheen skin, just below your belly button.

the only noise is both of your labored breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ear.

Hyunjin admired your fucked out expression, you looked divine. he took his thumb and wiped the single tear that escaped from your lashes.

you cup his face in your soft palms, as he melts back into your touch. after a few moments, Hyunjin untangles himself from you, he leaves the room for a moment and comes back with a towelette he ran under hot water.

he takes it and wipes his mess clean with the most gentle motions, making sure to get every drop before throwing it in the nearby hamper, and climbed back on top of you. he kissed you deeply, you taste like sweet sunshine and salt.

hyunjin laid his head on your chest, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, it was desperately suffocating. you ran your fingers through his soft locks. your breath finally steady.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you whispered.

his head shot up, confusion plastered on his face.

“you just fucked me like that.”

“like what?”

“like… good, like so good.”

a lopsided grin appeared on his face, he hummed.

“you were better… i wanna do it again.” he whispered, hovering his lips close to yours.

you bit your lip at the thought.

“how do you want me?”

your eyes had the most devilish affair.

“on top.” he grinned.

“yeah?”

“and on your side, on your back, on the floor, in the shower, on the couch-”

you giggled. “okay okay, we can arrange all of that.” you ran your fingers through his hair.

Hyunjin adored you. you were soft, diabolically soothing to him. something about you made him weak, pathetic with yearning. it was a new sensation for him, to want something so badly the way he wanted you. dulcet and delicate, you were human apricity. he wanted to drown in your touch, your kisses, your sweet nothings and so on.

“i really thought you hated me, Hyunjin.”

“i know. i thought you hated me.”

“i did….”

he chuckled. “i know.”

“im sorry.”

“don’t be. we both had our reasons.”

“missed this,” you started, admiring his features. “missed you.”

he smiled, getting giddy at your sudden confession.

“yeah? i missed you too, princess.”

you held you tighter. his warmth was more than soothing, it was needed, there was something about him that felt like home.

the two of you stayed like that for a a while, in each other’s arms.

“are you free tomorrow night?” he asked.

“for?”

“are you?”

“well, hmmm, i’ll have to check my schu-“

he sighed loudly, causing you to giggle.

“yes hyunjini, why do you ask?”

“i wanna take you out, like on a date. possibly, maybe? unless this is a one time for you. i’ll respect it.—but just know, i’ll remember, even when im married with kids, i’ll still think of you, on nights when im drinking and self inflicted or-”

“you’re so dramatic, you know that?”

you couldn’t help but smile at his words. “but no, i don’t think that’ll happen, you just created a problem.”

“how so?”

Hyunjin propped himself up on one arm beside you, he took his slender fingers and traced the center off your body all the way down.

“because you’re gonna have to rip me off of you, pretty boy.” your tone like silk.

“hm, it might be the other way around.” he grinned.

you pulled him into a tender kiss. letting it linger, there was no rush, Hyunjin felt warm and familiar. he felt solid and safe. you wanted to cling to his skin. bury yourself in his chest. he touched you like you were everything he had asked the heavens for. the pretty boy with pretty eyes and pretty hair, all yours in this moment.

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

omg omg, hi this took forever, life has been so hectic, i apologize. i hope the wait was worth it :,) i had so much fun writing this. i plan to post more hyunjin x reader so i hope u stay a while. ty ty for reading. <3

[covid-safer-hotties]

The US Government Is Shutting Down A Key Covid Website

Tomorrow the US government agency responsible for biomedical and public health research, The National Institutes of Health, will shut down its Covid-19 ‘special populations’ website.

This site hosts a huge amount of information about how to treat covid and long covid in the immunocompromised and in people with HIV, cancer and similar immune supressing conditions - so-called ‘special populations.’

The site is going totally offline.

It’s a shameful dereliction of duty by the NIH which, behind Harvard, is the second largest publisher of biomedical research papers in the world. Doctors and clinicians all over the world use the NIH site for advice and treatment ideas.

And it’s going offline during a massive summer surge of covid infections in the US, a surge that is now topping 1.3 million infections per day. (One of whom was Anthony Fauci, who was infected for the third time last week). A surge killing 750 people a week in the US. Many of whom will be precisely the type of people this website is intended to help clinicians treat.

It’s a scandal.

The message it sends to vulnerable people could hardly be clearer - when it comes to covid, there’s nothing else we can do for you. Sorry. That’s it. We’re done.

It’s so terrifying.

It also sends a terrible signal to the medical community about where we are with covid

and will be materially damaging in efforts to treat vulnerable people, both in the acute stage of the disease and those with long covid.

The move to shut the page down is premised on an entirely false assumption: that we already know everything we’ll ever know about how to manage covid so there’s no point keeping a live web resource because they’ll never be anything to update it with ever again.

This is simply not true. While we know a lot about treating covid four years in, we absolutely do not know everything, not by a long stretch. As evidenced by the hundreds still dying every week in summer 2024. And as for long covid, we know very little about how to treat it. For a start, there is no agreed treatment plan. Absolutely none. But apparently we also know so much about this disease we can start shutting down online resources dedicated to it.

Please imagine for a second if a Trump administration rather than a Biden-Harris administration was doing this.

There would be an outcry.

But this move has so far been greeted by media silence.

It is left to a few disability activists and the covid aware to shout into the social media void.

Not that this is a surprise. This is how it has been for the last two years at least, guided by the business as usual, vax-and-forget strategy. More people have died of covid under the Biden-Harris administration than died under Trump. Despite having vaccines since 2021. You’d never know it by mainstream media coverage.

Some people have written to the director of the NIH, Monica Bertagnolli, and asked them to keep the advice live and up-to-date. If you want to do this her email address is:

monica.bertagnolli@nih.gov

Long Covid Action has archived the site here

Maybe if enough people write to her and enough noise is made the decision will be reversed. Worth a try.

Overall it’s just another grim episode in the handling of the pandemic by the current US administration, an administration who, we should never forget, won power in large part due to the outrage at Trump’s handling of the first nine months of covid.

Solidarity to everyone still trying to protect themselves and their communities from covid against all the odds.

At least we can keep fighting for each other.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 21

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

1.4k words

With a lot off his chest Zen is able to rest now feeling reassured that that you both are on the same page. Though with him not quite feeling 100% you decide that it’s your turn to take care of him.

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

————

Zen had long since fallen asleep. A hangover, two emotional confessions, and lots of kisses and cuddles later and he was sleeping soundly finally. His grip around you was loose and you could have probably gotten up without waking him, but he looked so peaceful finally, purring in his sleep and occasionally still nuzzling you.

You felt pretty bad never really considering how he felt about everything, you had just assumed he also was not expecting too much either, but that was not a fair assumption. But now he slept peacefully, assured that you wanted to get to know him, to fully have a relationship.

It was easy to fall asleep like this with him, he was warm, the way his arms wrapped around made you feel safe, his purring was soothing, everything about him just felt right.

“What time is it?” his voice was groggy in you ear.

You were not sure how much time had passed napping, though the sun now cast long shadows on the wall.

“No idea” you answered back.

Zen groaned again and rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him. He always felt so sturdy under you, he was not as broad as many of the other trolls you met, and Ba’tual towered over him, but he still dwarfed any human.

You reached out and took one of his hands, they were so much larger than yours. Palm to palm like this your hand only just covered his palm, your five fingers against his three. Every time he worked with his hands you could not help but watch. His movements always delicate and deft, much more so than yours and it was impressive to see. Though other thoughts about his hands had also crossed your mind.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Yeah, left over pastries aren’t much of a breakfast, and we definitely missed lunch”.

“I can go get us something” he offered.

“You can’t tell me that you’re feeling completely fine now. There’s no way”.

“I am fine enough”.

“No. How about I get you some more water and medicine, we go clean up, and I’ll go get us something to eat”.

“You do not have to do that”.

“I want to. You don’t feel well so I want to take care of you, like you do for me”.

He looked up at you so softly, and you could feel how hard he was purring, “Thank you, my lovely wife”.

His words made you blush. You leaned down and gave him a few light kisses along his neck and nipped right at his jawline, which caused him to let out a small moan.

“Mmmm, how am I supposed to get up with you doing that?” he sighed.

“That’s all your getting for now”.

“That is all I am getting?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you have to court me now” you teased.

With your hand still in his he placed a few kisses along the back of your hand, “I look forward to it”.

You rolled off of him and helped him up as he wobbled a bit though he tried his best to not lean on you too much and knock you over. He was still unsteady on his feet, but doing far better than last night.

While he sat on the edge of the tub, you ran a bath for you both. This time you insisted on sitting behind him and he did not complain when you told him that it was your turn to dote on him.

He leaned back on you so that his head rested against your chest while you washed his hair, him happily purring the whole time.

“How are you still shedding this much?” you asked in amazement as you kept having to rise of tons of his hair off your hands.

“It will be hot soon so the winter layer needs to shed out”.

“Hot soon? It’s already hot!”

“This is not hot for here, it has been pleasant, though it is warmer here than my village since we do not get the sea breeze here in the city. I should ask Bira to help get you some summer clothes”.

It was much warmer here in the north than you were used to. While you had been making due with the clothing you had brought, Zen was right, it would probably be best to get some lighter clothes if it was only going to get hotter.

You continued scrubbing his hair and wishing you had his comb since the water and shampoo seemed to really be making him shed more. Once you got out as much hair as you could, you moved onto his chest to finally clean off the dry cum. You felt the vibrations in his chest from his purrs as you reached over his shoulders to wash whatever of him was not submerged in the water.

“You purr a lot” you said.

“I have a lot to be happy about, especially now that I have the chance to get to know and love my wife”.

His words made your heart flutter. You had not expected in an arranged marriage for your husband to actively want any sort of romantic connection, rather maybe passively years down the road maybe there would be something. But not Zen. He decided if he was going to be married then he was going to choose to love.

You rested your chin on top of his head once you were done with his chest and reached a hand up to one of his tusks.

“What’s all carved on your tusks?” you asked.

“Many things. Some are just decoration, some show my tribe, or honor my gods, and some mark that I am one of Tsov’ka’s avatars”.

Involuntarily you tensed up when Zen mentioned Tsov’ka, a topic you had been avoiding.

“I am still very sorry for how I handled things” he began, “I was not trying to lie to you or trick you, I promise. I just did not know how to tell you without upsetting you and I hoped that if you just met Tsov’ka you would see that he is not the same being that your Light has you fear”.

Any anger you had over things had long since dissipated, though you were not convinced that there was no cause for concern over Tsov’ka. Still, you wanted to trust Zen, you wanted to believe that the kind man who doted on you and took care of you was not the follower of an entity that wanted to consume the world and plunge it into darkness.

“Do many people follow Tsov’ka?” you asked.

“Not as many as the other gods, but that is common. Gods like Owa, Oja, and Reli have such a wide domain that everyone worships them, but with gods like Tsov’ka most people will never need his gifts or protection”.

“What about Bira and Ba’tual? Do they follow Tsov’ka?”

“Ba’tual does, Bira follows Halu, the Protector of Travelers”.

“And what about your village, do many people there follow Tsov’ka?”

“Only a few, most follow Lozu, the Lord of the Ocean”.

“So why do you follow Tsov’ka then?”

“My father before me was one of Tsov’ka avatars, and even when I was a child Tsov’ka guided me and protected me. As the war went on I needed his gift to protect my people, and after my father was killed Tsov’ka needed another avatar, so he granted me that boon” he shrugged.

“Did you get a say in that?”

“I could have turned it down, but it is a great honor and it was what was expected of me”.

“But was it what you wanted?”

“That does not matter, it was what was needed” his tone flat and matter of fact and you decided to drop the topic.

Instead you kissed the top of his head and wrapped your arms tightly around him for a few long moments before helping him finish bathing. It was nice seeing him so relaxed, he was clearly enjoying being taken care of. You let your hands wander and play with his ears while you kissed along them, enjoying doting on him and all the sounds he made. You kissed lower, down the side of his neck and across his shoulder. He had freckles on his shoulder you never noticed before.

————

Part 22

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@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23 @graveblanketgreen

[ko-existing]

Stop for a second — Audio into Text

This might sound like a harsher or more stern post but either way, sometimes real talk is needed. A massive problem I see in my inbox and friends' inboxes is that people absolutely refuse to properly read posts, think about what was said, and ponder it for themselves before asking any questions. Out of the over 2000 asks we have received since opening this account, 99.9% of them can be answered by the questioners themselves. Most of the questions we answered on our blog could also be answered by the questioners themselves. We're not needed for it, but the problem is that people just do not want to think for themselves or don’t even want to properly read a post before asking questions.

For example is when we post something like, "All concepts are imaginary and made up. If you drop all of them, you're left with nothing-ness." Or, "If you strip yourself of all senses, you will still have the sense of existing or the sense of being. You don't need your senses for it. If you have a dream and your senses are not involved, you still know and have that sense of being and experiencing." Then, a very popular question is, "So, if all concepts are imaginary, does that mean the law of assumption, law of attraction, the void state, manifesting, and shifting are imaginary as well?" That's a question I will never understand because—genuine question—what do you think "all is imaginary" means? If there was an exception, don't you think someone would have mentioned it? It's not just our blog or other people's blogs—Rupert Spira, Swami Sarvapriyananda, Alan Watts, or Robert Watts all say the same thing. If there is an exception, one of us would have mentioned it. It’s already in the sentence: "ALL is illusory." There is no exception to it. So, why ask if there is an exception when it's already in the sentence

Another very popular thing is when we say, "All is awareness and everything happens within awareness." That is something you can absolutely, 100% directly experience because you're doing it right now. Just be aware that you're doing it right now, that everything is happening within awareness. Just go backward—ask yourself, "Why am I perceiving this right now? What's needed?" and then go backward, and the end, or what seems to be the end, would be awareness.

When we say that, people still ask how, or they say, "Well, but we experience it with senses, and who's aware of those senses?" You need "awareness" to be aware of the senses; the senses alone do not experience anything. That’s just independent thinking that is refused within a lot of you. Absolute independent investigation needs to happen.

The other day, we received a few asks saying that we phrase our posts vaguely—and that's not true. The way people phrase things, or the way blogs or speakers in general phrase things, is the exact same way they learned it and experienced it themselves. It might sound vague to you because you just briefly read over it and don't ponder on it, or don’t read it as many times as you need to. You just read it once, maybe twice, and then start asking questions—Go backward by yourself, think for yourself, ponder and investigate by yourself, and the answer is clear as day. But a lot of you don't want to do it, and that’s where the problem lies. You don't want to rely on yourself, you don't want to take responsibility for yourself. You feel like, "Okay, this person has woken up, this person is already seeing through the illusion, so I have to listen to them, and I have to ask them for security reasons, for safety reasons, because their word is reliable. My thinking is not. If I investigate for myself, there could still be mistakes." And that's where the false thought process is. If you believe that you have to rely on someone else's words because you cannot rely on your own conclusions, you will keep overconsuming to the n-th degree. Experiencing is not done by me—it's done by you. Investigating and coming to conclusions to true understanding on a fundamental level can never happen through someone that seems to be external. It happens within you, by you, for you, and it's something you need to understand.

I'm sorry if this sounds harsh, but it has to be said sooner or later because you're tired from going into circles, we're tired, everyone is tired. So why are you not doing yourself a favor and really seeing it for yourself? Stop asking anyone anything—ask yourself, because that's where the answer is. GO BACKWARDS. When people say "all answers are within," it is as literal as it can get. I'm not saying within your brain or within your organs, but the answers are within. If everything happens within awareness, the answers are within awareness, and the answers are just as illusory—which means not what they seem to be—as the questions. And once that's understood, there's nothing else to understand.

ALL anyone can do here is lead you to water, it's up to you if you drink or not .

[arcanarix]

Because You're a Big Deal - Satoru Gojo X Fem!Sorcerer Reader

Content Warnings: handjobs, body worship, exhibitionism, cockwarming, edging, cunnilingus, satoru might have a slight humliation/degradation kink, satoru is lowkey a creep and yandereish but not really, he also has no concept of personal space

Word Count: 10.1K

Summary: It’s common knowledge that Satoru Gojo is completely devoted to you. Why?—Because he makes it everyone’s, especially your, problem!

AO3

Since he’s been ripped out of his mother’s womb, life has bent to Satoru Gojo’s will. Everything falls into place as if the universe itself acknowledges that he’s destined for greatness. He barely has to lift a finger, and his achievements pile up, much to the irritation of literally everyone around him. It’s not just because he’s able to back up his skill—he makes sure it’s known that he’s the best sorcerer in the modern world, though—it’s also the way he exudes this untouchable self-assuredness which sets him apart from the rest. He’s practically a God walking among mere simpletons.

In a way, you find yourself pitying the guy at times. You can see how that kind of existence could be isolating. Being blessed—or cursed—with so much power from the get-go. He’s high above everyone else, like he’s observing the world from a higher vantage point—like a God in the sky or on another plane of reality. So to someone like you, who scrape by on sheer determination, ambition, and hard-headedness, Gojo’s life feels impossibly distant.

You’re not part of the elite three clans. You’re…just you, really. You’re a fledgling sorcerer who’s stumbled into this world all on accident, thanks to some Grade 2 curse spirits running amok on your college campus. Among the student and faculty body, you’re the only person you know who can see them, the only person who can react. It’s kind of made you an outcast there because you were afraid of stepping out of your dorm. That’s how you ended up here, after meeting Gojo and the others through chance. You’re training at Jujutsu Tech under Yaga and Gojo’s guidance, as a Grade 3 now—not that far along, but still a step above from where you began which was rock bottom. You still don’t compare to your peers at all in terms of experience.

But as much as you are grateful for Satoru Gojo and his small group of students, who have already rapidly become family to you, you can’t say you’re exactly pleased to be in his presence 99 percent of the time.

Why’s that, you wonder?

It’s simple, really.

From the moment he met you, he’s made it painfully clear that you have captured his attention. He’s obsessed, locked on you with such fervor it could decimate entire buildings with the same energy as a Hollow Purple. While it may have started as a shallow infatuation—you can’t even begin to imagine why—you know better than to let your guard down. With men like him, it’s easy to feel like a conquest, a prize to be won. From someone who’s so used to winning, without a doubt, he sees you as a challenge.

His favorite toy. You refuse to give him that satisfaction.

You don’t know how wrong you are about that assumption, though.

Because titles aside, he’s still just some dude who probably thinks more with his dick than with his brain.

You’re not sure why you in particular, either. Maybe others who’re more aware of his reputation might find it flattering, for the following reasons: he’s the strongest sorcerer of the modern times. That’s one. He’s rich as fuck. That’s two. He’s also stupidly handsome with those striking blue eyes of his and that lanky figure. That’s three.

You can’t find it in your core to give a flying fuck about it, though. Because beyond the superficial, he’s lacking in a lot of areas.

Everyone around you seems to agree.

Even now, as you sit in the classroom, waiting for him to show up—because of course, he’s late again as usual—you feel the tension building in your gut. You lean back, your chair creaking as a deep sigh leaves your lips. Your fingers idly trace the screen of your phone. Fushiguro’s gaze bores into your skull, with an all-knowing feeling. Is Gojo going to pull some bullshit today like he always does?

Your eyes roll, as you whip around to meet his gaze. As if silently communicating to him. Of course he is. Gojo always pulls something and everyone knows it, but especially Fushiguro. You have learned to expect it just as everyone else does.

The door swings open with a rush of air, and in strides Gojo, with that smug grin plastered across his face. He carries himself with a straight posture, hands stuffed into his pockets, acting like the world revolves around him because obviously it does. To him it does.

“Sorry for the wait! Since there’s not a lot of things we have to go over today before Megumi and the others are sent on yet another mission, I won’t keep you guys that long.”

Even without looking up, the weight of his gaze locks on you. You feel like you’re on a stage and those blinding blue eyes are the spotlight. When you do glance his way, you catch the faintest twitch of his lips. You’re not wearing your uniform today, and that seems to spark something in him. His blinding blue eyes, though hidden beneath his blindfold, must gleam with mischief. He’s definitely scheming.

“Well, most of you,” he finishes, that smirk of his widening.

You suppress a groan, already knowing where this is going and what thoughts might be running amok in that idiot brain of his, which only thinks with his dick in your presence. The outfit you opt to wear is nothing special—just a pair of shorts and a tank top—but for Gojo, it’s like a gift sent from the Heavens. He always twists the simplest actions of yours into a reason to give you a hard time.

As the briefing drones on, your eyes drift upward by mistake, sneaking a peek at him. What a bad move. Of course, he’s already looking at you, that grin still so wide his face is cracking. He raises his hand to his mouth—thrusting his tongue between two spread fingers—and your face flushes deep from embarrassment. Without thinking, your hands fly up to cover your face as you bite back a sigh.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Luckily, no one notices.

True to his word, the briefing is just that—brief. Itadori, Kugisaki, and Fushiguro head off, leaving you behind with Panda, Inumaki, and Maki for a few moments…at leaste, until they, too, make their hasty exit, leaving you alone.

Leaving you alone with that sad fuck of a man.

He slides up to you, peeling his blindfold up with a slender finger as he leans in closer than necessary. His breath fans against your forehead, and you have to resist the urge to step back lest you want to stir up more trouble for yourself, to push him out of your personal bubble. But Gojo doesn’t seem to have any concept of personal space. He never has. Those eyes of his, sharp, and blue like glaciers in the north, flicker across your face, down to the exposed skin of your shoulders and collarbone.

“Where’s your uniform?” he asks, his voice casual, with a playful note beneath it. There’s a layer of something else, though. His slender fingers trail along your arm, ghosting over your skin where the thin fabric of your tank top exposes you.

The guy acts like he can do whatever he wants. That he’s the man.

You aren’t ever going to give him the satisfaction of admitting that because he already knows he’s a big deal. He already knows he’s absolutely all that and he doesn’t need more reminders. You aren’t interested in stroking his ego (or any physical attributes of his body, for that matter). That must get under his skin and you might be a little too proud of yourself for that, mentally giving yourself a pat on the back every time he seems a little disheartened by your lack of reciprocation.

You need to set that record straight with him. He needs to be knocked down a LOT of pegs.  

Fuck him and his Infinity…you’d love to kick him where it hurts because that’s the only thing he thinks with in that idiot brain of his…

You finally swat at his hand, irritation burbling beneath your skin. “Didn’t Ijichi tell you? It’s at the dry cleaners.”

Gojo gives a non-committal hum in response, but his grin never leaves his features as he settles onto your desk, sprawling out like he owns it. His gaze locks on you, studying every part of your body, and your insides are screaming at you to bolt out the door. But it’s only going to cause him to be more annoying.

“You sure you didn’t wear this just for me?” His voice is a low rasp, dropping an octave, a purr in your ear that sends a shiver dancing down your spine. His hand brushes your cheek, his thumb grazing your supple skin.

You smack his hand away again, maintaining a blank expression.

“Not interested,” you deadpan, rising to your feet. “Now, am I dismissed?”

Gojo’s expression falters for a fraction of a second before that smugness of his bounces back, slipping the blindfold back over his eyes.

“Sure,” he replies, but not before his fingers tuck under your chin, tilting your head in an angle ever so slowly.

You swallow on a lump of nothing—

Oh.

--that bulge in his pants, straining against the fabric of his uniform, growing more and more prominent by the passing second. You swallow hard again, your heart dropping tor your stomach.

“Now you know,” he finishes in a low murmur, sliding off your desk with his infuriating smirk still on his fucking face.

You scowl so deep your forehead wrinkles, stepping back away from him. Before you make it further, he grabs your elbow, pulling you close—too close. Flush against his warm body, where your thigh brushes against his hardness. You hate the way it makes you feel.

You hate that you don’t hate it.

“You’re too beautiful for your own good, you know that?” His voice is low, soft, reverent, but the edge of teasing remains.

“I could have you written up for sexual harassment,” you mutter under your breath.

His laugh is quick, sharp, echoing through the walls of the empty classroom.

“Hoho, I’m so scared,” he retaliates in a mocking tone as he allows you to break free from his grasp. “The worst Yaga will give me is a little reprimanding and a swat on the wrist, which won’t change much in the grand scheme of things.”

Utahime is right, you idly muse. He’s a fucking man child.

Why does he find such joy in being a troll? You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. That maybe he has some depth beneath the stupidity he embodies. Is it to hide trauma or something? Can’t he, for once, be a little more serious? Address you like a person because that’s all you want from people?

Do you even care to pick his idiot brain and find out?

“Because you’re the untouchable one in this universe,” you remark with a defeated sigh. Maybe consider transferring to Kyoto? But then he might find another way to harass you…

“Exactly,” he retorts, as you whip around to fully face him. He towers over you; he towers over nearly everyone. But you don’t often take note of how intimidating that is in combination with his reputation. You wonder if he truly is blessed in every aspect of his life (perhaps his only vice, that you can name thus far anyway, is his lack of interpersonal intelligence).

“I’ll be seeing you, Sensei,” you mumble through gritted teeth as you gather your things and amble out the door. His wolf-whistle follows you out, and you resist the urge to turn around and deck him on the spot. Not that you can be able to with his goddamn Infinity.

Maybe you should still write him up for harassment.

But then, upon further reflection, you sincerely doubt it’s going to make a difference. He even says so himself. Nothing changes his mind.

The cool autumn air rushes through your hair as you and the other students stroll down the busy streets, laughing and chatting it up. You find comfort in this routine—the way you can shed the weight of becoming a sorcerer, even if only for a few hours.

To cap off the end of a grueling week, the students often orchestrate a fun night out in the town. You and the other students engage in some semblance of normalcy outside of jujutsu society. You actually get to have fun—and not in the presence of any of your superiors, which helps you take the edge off, for sure.

Itadori and the others—well in particular he, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki—they make you feel like one of them and you haven’t even been with them for that long. Each and every one of them, they’re unique and talented and genuine people. You are willing to admit even Gojo is, in his own right. You just won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that, on some levels, you do respect him for certain things.

You probably won’t be alive today if not for these guys.

Itadori grins, his arms stretched behind his head as he glances at the group.

“Is anyone up for a karaoke night?” Itadori inquires, eyes twinkling.

“I’m down, but maybe after I’ve had a few drinks,” you tease with a light giggle. “I’m no Mariah Carey or Ariana Grande.”

“None of us are,” Fushiguro scoffs, shaking his head. “Except for Gojo. Naturally.”

You resist rolling your eyes. Even when he’s not here, Gojo finds a way to worm into the conversation and in your fucking bubble.

“Of course he is,” Kugisaki quips with a smirk playing on her lips. “Guy’s got no shortcomings.”

Fushiguro is quick to challenge that statement.

“Actually—!” Fushiguro starts, only for Kugisaki to cut him off.

“—What, Fushiguro? Apart from his lack of personality, what else?” Kugisaki asks, curious.

That clamps his mouth shut, lips pressed in a deep frown. He falls silent as you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Can we actually not talk about Sensei?” you ask, your own frown stressing your features. “I want one night where I don’t have to think about him and his stupid face.”

Fushiguro glances at you, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, of course,” Fushiguro states, “Is he still giving you trouble?”

“When does he not give any of us trouble?” Kugisaki chimes in with a sigh. “Then again, he’s been a bit pushier with you lately. We can bring it up to Yaga, you know.”

Your shoulders tense for a moment, before you shake your head.

“He hasn’t done anything,” you realize how meek you sound and try to find that strength in your voice again. “Well, nothing Yaga would take seriously. Not like Gojo would take anything seriously, either.”

“Understatement of the modern age,” Fushiguro wisecracks in a low murmur.

“Come on, Sensei’s not that bad,” Itadori interjects,  always the sort of person to give people the benefit of the doubt. Where applicable, of course. Which for someone like Itadori, it’s 99 percent of the time—especially when it comes to people he admires like Gojo.

Never mind how overt and rambunctious Gojo can be, he’s still a good person. Or at least, he fights for the right things. You can concede to that. But still…

“Sure, he’s kind of…persistent, though. I don’t know him all that well still so maybe Fushiguro will have a better handling on that.”

“He’s as idiotic as any other man comes,” Fushiguro concedes with a grunt. “If I have to punch him out, I’ll punch him out. That is, if he’s gutsy enough to shut off his Infinity to take a little disciplinary action like a man.”

“We’re still talking about him,” you point out.

“Sorry,” they all apologize in unison.

The conversation finally drifts away from Gojo, and you find yourself easing up a bit. The tension melting off of your body. It’s nice to be in the presence of your friends.

“So,” you drag out the word to catch their attention again, hoping to lift the mood. “Karaoke?”

“Yeah! Let’s do it!” Itadori jabs two thumbs up in the air.

The lights of the karaoke bar you all frequent blinks ahead. You’re excited for a few hours of escapism.

Of course, life has other plans as it seems the faculty of Jujutsu Tech orchestrate their own karaoke night. Since you’re together in the same bar, you decide to rent a room for all of you to sing your lungs out with unlimited drinks.

The karaoke room is dark save for a few string lights casting soft glows across the plush seats, low tables, and around the ceilings. The music blares from the speakers, the laughter of your friends mixing with the thumping, reverberating bass as you amble over to the couch. While Gojo and your mentors are here, you still find yourself unwinding and enjoying your time with your friends.

But of course, the universe has decided you can’t have nice things for very long.

On your way to the couch, you trip over something—a bag, a dropped can of beer, a foot, who fucking knows—and before you can catch yourself, you fall right into someone’s lap.

Not just anyone’s.

The odds, as always, are in Gojo’s favor. The planets always align for this fuck.

His arms secure around your waist instantly, securing you in place with an unyielding, vice grip.

“Well, well, well, happy birthday to me,” he murmurs, his breath fanning the nape of your neck. You shift, attempting to break free, but he yanks you back down, pressing your ass into his lap. That unmistakable hardness beneath you makes your heart jump to your throat.

“Stay,” he whispers, his voice demanding, as he presses the growing tent in his pants between your ass cheeks.

You grind your teeth, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare at him. His grin is as infuriating as ever—that shit-eating smirk that makes you want to tear him a few new assholes.

“I’m about to go back up and sing,” you hiss, squirming in his lap which only seems to encourage him, a low whimper escaping his lips that only you can hear. It makes your hairs stand on end and your blood burble. He tightens his iron grip, grinding his hips against yours.

“Stay a little longer,” he coos, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. He bites back another little whimper as he rolls his hips again, and there’s a heat pooling in your legs that’s impossible to ignore. Luckily, everyone’s too distracted with Shoko’s and Utahime’s drunken rendition of Smells Like Teen Spirit, and no one’s paying attention to you or to Gojo.

For once, the universe isn’t humiliating you.

“Fuck,” he groans, nipping at your jaw. “I wonder how amazing you’d feel bouncing on my wood.”

“Gojo!” you whisper in a harsh tone, finally slipping free from his lap. You’re tempted to smack him, and you almost do, but you recognize the challenge in his gaze.

Him and his fucking Infinity.

“Fuck you,” you sneer, turning on your heel and returning to the others, but you still hear his response:

“Soon,” he calls back with a lazy wave.

You know you don’t get the luxury of avoiding Gojo.

You come to a realization that hits you like a Falcon punch to your gut: you’re not sure if you want Gojo to ignore you. It’s not because you’ve come to enjoy the attention. Far from it. He’s still crass; he’s still pushy; he’s still overt and obnoxious. It’s still infuriating and he’s still very punchable about this shit.

But today…today, you just aren’t into entertaining him. Today, you’re feeling really off your game in more ways than one, and he wants to whack the hornet’s nest out of sheer habit.

He must sense your shift in mood since that karaoke night. One second, you’re telling him to piss off, leave you alone, and the next, his large hand wraps around your wrist, jerking you toward him. His body is pressed to yours, and you can feel that hardness against our thigh.

You’re praising the gods above that there isn’t anyone around to witness this because this is probably you at your most unbecoming self.

“Sensei,” you grind out, your voice low with frustration. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Come on, no need to be so formal here. It’s us, baby girl. Say my name. Satoru.”

“Gojo,” you sneer, attempting to pull away, but his grip strengthens like titanium around your wrist. Those blue eyes of his—no, they look more like predatory slits now—bore into you with an intensity that you only saw once before back in Shibuya. When something inside of him fractures, splitting like glass under the high stakes. The memory of it, jagged and sharp, makes your heartbeat skyrocket.

You aren’t interested in exploring what lurks behind that gaze; you don’t wish to challenge it. But he doesn’t give you the luxury of turning away. His hand remains secured around your wrist, jerking you off balance as you’re spun in a fluid motion, pressing your back flush against the wall, his body caging over yours. You collide with the cool surface with a light thud, but you’re not all that disoriented. Just a little taken aback. The scorching heat of his body crowds into yours. His knee is still wedging between your legs, the pressure firm but demanding as it rubs into your clothed cunt.

“When are you going to stop punishing me?” he murmurs, his voice a near-growl that rumbles through his chest and vibrates against your skin. The sound is barely audible, yet it hits you like a tidal wave. Your breath hitches, and your eyes narrow into slits out of defiance.

“I’m not—!” The retort dies in your throat as his lips graze against your ear, his breath sending a rush of heat from your neck shooting all the way down to your groin. He shifts his knee, pushing it harder against the sensitive core between your thighs, and the friction draws a gasp from your lips before you can act to suppress it.

“Don’t feed me that bullshit,” he growls, his teeth taking in your bottom lip and grinding it between them. He chews hard on it, just enough to make you flinch, before his tongue swipes across the sore spot, soothing the light sting. More heat rushes to your cheeks, spreading in waves throughout your body as his hands roam your body, still skimming the modest areas, but it’s enough to make you squirm and fidget. It makes your breath come out in short, ragged, uneven breaths.

His grip slides dangerously lower, tracing the slight dip of your waist with his fingers that linger just a little too long for your comfort.

“Stop dancing around how you feel about me.”

“Gojo…” you whimper, though your voice pitifully muffled against his mouth. Your hands push against his chest, but to no avail, you’re weaker than him (everyone is weaker than him, but you especially so and for other reasons not related to physical prowess); your mind is torn between pushing him and away and… wanting to understand what the hell this is. What the hell he’s doing with you. What he wants to do with you.

“Satoru.” He corrects, his voice thick and guttural from arousal. The way he demands it, it’s primal, feral, a low rumble like distant thunder that leaves you no room to refuse him. “Say it.”

“Satoru,” you stammer, the syllables tumbling from your lips unbidden as he nips at your lips again, hard enough to draw yet another breathy gasp. You reluctantly tilt your head back, exposing the line of your neck to his relentless pursuit.  “Stop.”

His eyes continue to bore into yours, drilling deep like a jack hammer through your skull. Those eyes of his, they’re so bright, so blinding, almost as if they can strip you bare with just a glance because he can bend everything to his will like he always does. Even with his Infinity shut off, they’re so intense. He’s suffocating. Inescapable.

Unforgettable.  

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, his voice softening to a lower murmur as he dips his head lower, his nose brushing along the sensitive skin of your neck. His lips trail after, feathery light over your skin, barely there, and he inhales sharply when he reaches your pulse point thundering just beneath your collarbone.

“I know you don’t mean that.”

Your cherry perfume lingers in the air between you as he continues. His fingers graze at the dips of your waist. Suddenly everything feels too constricting, all consuming.

“Please,” he mutters, his voice cracking. He sounds almost…pained, almost vulnerable in a way that you have never seen from him before. He’s always so sure of himself. So haughty. For another second, there’s something fragile flickering in his gaze.

“Stop torturing me.”

It happens before you can stop it—you can’t help the slight twitch of your eye. Torturing him? Is he serious? You almost want to laugh off the sheer absurdity of that accusation. But the thought soon dies when he leans in again, his lips wet, sloppy kisses along your jawline, taking his time like he’s savoring this moment. Like he’s not sure he’ll ever have a chance again. He might be wrong; he might be right.

You don’t even know yourself.

He stops at the tip of your chin, his voice a low crackle like the strike of lightning.

“You’re torturing me by not acting,” he grunts out that explanation, his words now rough and strained. There’s a rawness in his voice—a kind of sincerity that you’re shocked he even has in him. His hand slides even lower, now grazing your hips, before grasping your wrist and guiding it down to rest against his pelvis. There’s the heat of his arousal, the strain of it sticking through the thin fabric of his slacks, and you freeze.

“You see what you do to me. You see how hard you make me,” he whispers, guiding your hand along the rigid length of him through his slacks. His eyes remain locked on yours, bright, blindingly hungry, studying your reactions. As always, he’s relentless in his pursuit of you, determined to get what he wants. He’s not used to things not falling in his lap.

He moans low, guttural, still pained, like…like this is a need for him.

The world between you narrows, sharpens like a camera filter, focusing in on the two of you. Just the two of you in the empty classroom. His ragged breaths fill your senses, the feel of his smooth hardness beneath your soft moisturized palm. You feel the erratic pounding of your own pulse in your eardrums. He moans again, low, needy, a pained, pitiful sound. It’s so thick and suffocating, and you honestly wonder how you got to this point. Why you’re letting him do this.

It’s a lot, and yet you can’t find yourself ripping away from his gaze. His gaze never leaves yours, even as his hips buck slightly into your hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. Those eyes, full of that unsettling lust and vulnerability, continue to glow bright and shiny. It’s too much, way too much, too bright, too overstimulating. You want to break the connection, yet you can’t. You’re caught in his web. You’re trapped.

“Keep rubbing me like that,” he rasps, his voice in broken gasps, as he presses his body needily into yours. His hands find your waist and grips tight, fingertips digging into your skin, securing you in place as if he can’t bear to let you leave as he continues to grind helplessly against your hand. “Fuck… your hand’s so soft… feels so good…”

He keeps rolling against your body, making your breath catch. It’s kind of sexy. He’s unguarded in a way you’ve never seen him in other settings, even when he’s goofing off with other colleagues or the other students. Every broken whimper that leaves his yappy lips just adds to the appeal all of a sudden, because you can’t believe you’re able to make him succumb to you like this. You’re making his control slip with each passing nanosecond. You’re the center of this world, and you don’t find yourself hating that.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his voice pitching higher now, desperate as he ruts against your paml with a lot more urgency, a lot more desperation. His cock twitches through the thin fabric of his slacks, the friction too much, too good to pass up. His body’s shaking against yours, and it’s because of you. His breath hitches with every languid roll of his hips.

“I need you,” he quavers, his voice catching in his throat as he trails heated kisses along your collarbone. His lips feel soft, but his words are laden with a kind of desperation you’ve never thought you’d see in your life. “Can’t you feel how badly I fucking need you?”

You can. You can feel every ounce of his need, pressing against you. Your bodies are so close there’s nothing but headiness and heat. That need of his…it makes you a bit wary. You don’t trust Gojo for a myriad of reasons.

Not like this, at least.

Yet, while your mind is screaming at you to rip away, to cease this nonsense, you find yourself complying. Your hand remains where it is, your fingers grazing his bulge on their own accord matching the rhythm of each roll of his hips. He’s still trembling, falling apart at your touch. Something about that…something about that is so fucking hot, and you hate that you don’t’ hate this.

“Almost there?” you murmur, your eyes fluttering as your thumb brushes lightly over the tip of his cock poking through. It’s an instinctive motion, and his reaction is immediate, drawing out a choked gasp, his head dipping onto your shoulder as his full body shudders.

“Fuck…yes,” he moans, his voice still rough and strained from need and arousal, rutting harder into your hand. “More. Fuck… please, more…”

Your breath catches in your throat as you jerk him faster, each stroke sending him over a dangerous edge. That grip on your hips constricts, almost bruising your skin as he chases his release. His moans falling from his lips are so soft, breathy, needy…it’s so juicy.

“Baby,” he whimpers, his voice broken as he thrusts one final time into your hand. His cock twitches again, hard, swollen, before he creams into his slacks with a strangled, pitiful whine. He pants in short, ragged gasps as he nuzzles his forehead into your shoulder.

The world halts between you. The only thing filling the room is the sound of his ragged breaths. His body slumps against yours for a few more moments, before he reluctantly pulls away. His gaze never leaves yours, dazed, delirious…drunk off of you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into your ear before nipping it in a playful manner. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before fully stepping back.

You remain there, pressed up against the wall, dumbfounded, your mind reeling from everything that’s just transpired. You want to feel disgusted, repulsed even. Yet…you’re not.

You feel almost…

Your cheeks burn at the mere notion. There’s no way. Guess Hell has finally frozen over.

Gojo says nothing more, sparing you the embarrassment as he retreats, his hands smoothing over his slacks, in an attempt to conceal any remnants of his little time to rejoice. His perfect posture bounces back far too quickly from this. It’s infuriating how he can act like nothing happened and you’re still taken aback. He bends down, retrieving a small disinfecting cloth from his desk drawer, then wipes your hand in a soft, reverent motion.

His eyes flicker to yours as he does, lingering with a softer expression.

“You…” Your voice comes out pathetic, wimpy. You find some semblance of strength over your voice and your body. Everything that’s happened finally sinks in, and your mind is swirling.

His natural scent still lingers, he’s so close. Crisp, fresh.

“What?” he asks, feigning innocence like he always does, a spark of amusement hidden just beneath that calm tone of his. His lips twitch into that infuriating, ever smug grin of his. “Didn’t hate it?”

You open your mouth to snap back, to scream and yell at him, but the words catch in your throat. You can’t even hate him. You can’t even find the anger that should be threatening to burst through that tightly sealed lid, that you keep bottled up. There’s just confusion, frustration, uncertainty…

You rip your hand from his and twist on your heel, ambling toward the door as your body is operating on autopilot.

Your hand reaches for the doorknob, his voice cuts through the thick silence.

“Come on, it was good, right?”

You freeze in your tracks, your back still turned to him. His gaze burns into your skin. You don’t respond. You don’t know how to respond. You can’t. You twist the doorknob, the door emitting a creak as it opened, stepping out into the hallway—away from his suffocating, overstimulating presence.

Suddenly you feel lighter, cooler.

But as you stride down the empty halls, your mind replays the events in an endless loop—that nagging sensation gnawing at your soul.

Are you coming around? You don’t know. You know you didn’t hate it; that’s as much as you’re willing to admit. Your heart thunders, echoes of his parting words lingering.

You don’t notice him peeping out through the door slightly ajar and watching you walk away.

You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes.

Not through the briefing, where the low chattering of conversation barely registers over the pounding heartbeat in your ears. Sure as hell not through the training, where your hands fumble through the motions, distracted. Fushiguro and Kugisaki get a chance to tumble you to the ground without so much as a shred of remorse.

It’s like you can’t break away. Every time his eyes land on you, you can feel them burning straight through our soul, making your stomach twist and churn.

When you’re back in the classroom, it feels stifling. The chalkboard behind Gojo is worn from everything Gojo writes on it. You sit at your desk, twiddling a pencil between your fingers; your mind relaying the events over and over, no matter how much you want to shove them down, push them away. It’s almost impossible to focus on anything else. You entertain the glimpses of his expressions, how he unravels at your touch…they all keep floating to the surface of your brain and it’s both a nightmare and a dream. You’re not sure which.

He's always been open about his feelings. It’s never been a secret. He makes it everyone’s problem, for fuck’s sake. But now, seeing it firsthand, how he reacts to the slightest brush of your fingers…it’s different now. You don’t know how to feel about it.

“Yoooo,” Itadori’s voice snaps you back to the present, his hand waving in front of your face. You blink a few times, jerking back into reality as his curious eyes meet yours. “We’ve been trying to get your attention. Everything okay?

You force a smile, but it feels strained and awkward on your lips. It’s like a mask that doesn’t fit you.

“Yeah,” you lie right through your teeth, strained to your own ears. “Just a lot on my mind.”

You haven’t noticed Gojo excused himself at some point—how long has it been since he left the room? Not like it matters that much to you. Because even when he isn’t present, his energy clings to the air, inescapable, suffocating. Unforgettable.

Fushiguro leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses your reactions.

“Is it Gojo?” he asks, his voice a low, irritated grumble.

You hesitate, your fingers clenching around the pencil.

“…No,” you manage to say, the words slipping through your teeth with a bit of difficulty. “Other stuff.”

Itadori, ever the peppy optimist, flashes you a heartwarming grin. His sincerity can get so annoying sometimes, but endearing all at once.

“Enlighten us? Maybe we can help!” he suggests.

You shake your head, avoiding eye contact. You hate lying to him. “Nah, too dark.”

Itadori is unconvinced, his beady eyes focused on you. “You sure?”

“I’m good,” you insist, hoping your forced smile will suffice. “I swear.”

“She gets harassed enough by Gojo,” Fushiguro interjects with a snarl, swatting at Itadori’s head to knock some sense into him. “Knock it of, Yuuji.”

Before the conversation drifts to another direction, a voice cuts through the room like a blade.

“Yeah, Yuuji Itadori,” Gojo’s voice drawls in a playful way from behind you. You don’t have to see him to know his smirk is ever present on that stupid face of his. “Annoying her to death is strictly my territory.”

You stiffen in place, your muscles tensing as Gojo’s presence draws nearer. You don’t want to turn around; you can’t. His stare presses into your back, seeping through your skin like a stain.

“Alright guys, I think we covered everything we needed to today. Go enjoy the rest of your day, yeah?” he instructs after clapping twice, officially dismissing the students.

You don’t hesitate to scurry past him, the scrape of your chair echoing in the classroom as you hop to your feet. You don’t look back. As soon as the words of dismissal leave his lips, you’re up from your desk, making a beeline for the exit. You think you make it, your feet dragging you toward the sweet embrace of freedom—

--His hand is on your shoulder before you take another step. His grip is firm, not tight, but secure enough to make chills surge through your body. Every muscle in your body is screaming at you to run, but it’s like you’re stuck in place—pinned by the overpowering force of his presence.

“Hey,” he drawls, a soft, teasing purr that causes your skin to tingle. His lips graze against the shell of your ear as he chuckles. Your cheeks flush deep from heat. You curse your body for giving you so much Hell around him.

“Sensei,” you state, voice sharper than intended, yet it still lacks the strength you wish it normally has. “I’m just trying to enjoy the rest of my day, just as you instructed.”

He hums in response, breathing down your sensitive skin.

“Satoru,” he bites back in a growl, his lips still brushing the curve of your ear before nipping at it, a playful gesture that makes you jump in place. He soothes the sting with a few passes of his tongue, and you shiver.

“Say it,” he goes on again. “Say my name.”

You grit your teeth, annoyance laden in your tone.

“Satoru,” you mutter, the irritation in your tone clear. “What do you want?”

He chuckles again, but this time there’s a bit of an edge to it—that same, primal edge.

“You know,” he quips, and before you retaliate, his hand is guiding yours to his lap, and your breath hitches as you feel his unmistakable hardness pressing against his slacks again. He slips his cock out from his confines this time, and in an instant, he wraps your hand around his shaft. Your fingers trace the heat of his length. This time, he doesn’t plan on holding back. The realization of what’s happening dawns on you, and your mind is screaming bloody murder at you to knee him there and see how he likes it, but you don’t. You don’t know why you don’t.

You’re not surprised that he’s not lacking in this department either. So he’s not overcompensating.

“Like what you see?” he teases in a low, silken tone, his free hand sliding up to our neck, fingers wrapping gently around your throat and applying just enough pressure that sends a thrilling jolt through your veins.

“Someone might…see,” you manage through a choked gasp. Gojo glances over his shoulder, ensuring the door is locked, leaving no room for interruption because he won’t allow it.

His head dips lower, his soft lips pressing against the curve of your neck, planting soft kisses along the exposed skin as your hand strokes him, jerking him. His breathing quickly grows ragged, his shaggy white hair brushing against your cheek as his hips roll into your hand.

He’s letting go around you. You can’t believe you’re the one doing this to him. Satoru Gojo is the pinnacle of the jujutsu society, seeming so untouchable, just out of reach. The one who’s been blessed in any and every aspect of his universe. But here, his control is slipping at just your touch.

It’s…not just kind of sexy. It’s really fucking sexy. You will never give him the satisfaction of telling him that.

He clutches your waist, his fingertips digging into your skin and you bite back a whine.

“Fuck, baby, please, stop torturing me,” his voice is a soft, broken cry, and you chew on your bottom lip.

Your eyes flutter a bit, a little dazed and you’re untouched. Entirely focusing on his release. You’re not sure why you’re letting this happen. Probably because there’s not much you can do. If he’s so tormented by the prospect of your existence, then shouldn’t you feel an obligation to grant him some kind of respite?

Why do you even feel that way? You shouldn’t even care, and yet…here you are.

You assess his debauched expression with a soft stare. His face is flushed, his lips parted as he pants for breath, purring your name over and over again. His eyes—half-mast, glassy—flicker open, and you lock gazes. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart flutter.

“Say my name,” he rasps out, pleading.

“Satoru,” you breathe, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Are you…close?” you murmur, your thumb ghosting over his tip leaking with pre. He chokes on a gasp at that, and you don’t know why you feel so powerful in that moment. Probably because you can make the strongest sorcerer of the modern age like this and you’re barely doing anything much. You don’t think so, anyway.

Your breath hitches. Any smart retorts you may have, have died on your tongue long ago because it’s no longer applicable. You’re right into his hands; he’s putty in yours. Quite literally.

He tightens his grip on your waist and hunches further over as a distinct confirmation. He’s chasing the friction with your hand, his hips bucking in tandem with your strokes.

“More,” his voice is now an uncontrolled falsetto, and you jerk his cock in time with hie hips. “Fuck. More…”

And here you are, the one in control, stroking him faster, harder, watching him fall apart to your touch. You remember telling yourself you wouldn’t stroke his ego or any physical part of his body, but you’re doing exactly that now.

You’re such a fucking liar. He mewls your name, catching your attention.

“Fuck, baby,” he whimpers, jerking into your hand faster until shots of seed leaks from his tip, hot and sticky and gooey. His head drops to your shoulder as he catches hie breath.

He pulls away a bit, his half-lidded gaze meeting yours. He looks all dazed, delirious…satisfied. He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss full of heat and passion, his tongue twirling around yours. When he breaks the kiss, a thin line of spit connects your tongues before he cuts it with a twirl of his own wet muscle, his eyes still never leaving yours.

You’re trapped in a state of shock, your mind spinning. You don’t know how to feel—should you be angry? Repulsed? Relieved? You don’t know. All you know is that he’s getting his way, and it’s pissing you off.

Gojo steps back from your personal bubble, moving toward his desk with his casual nonchalance, leaving you reeling. He once again retrieves a disinfectant cloth, wiping himself clean before tossing that and retrieving a fresh one, cleaning your hand and face as if nothing out of the ordinary just transpired.

You’re frozen, your mind grappling with the current reality as he finishes cleaning you up. He flashes a little smile.

Your lips curl into a soft pout, that frustration still burbling beneath your skin.  

“What?” you demand, voice lighter than you intended—softer, more out of curiosity. He rests his hand—large, calloused, warm—on your cheek, brushing his thumb over your soft, plump lips. The tenderness of the gesture feels a bit foreign to you.

“Mine,” he growls low and gravelly. His eyes, usually filled with mischief and scheming a way to annoy or embarrass you, are shining with pure affection instead. You feel like he’s seeing right through you, and with those legendary Six Eyes of his, you might not be far off. He can read everything about everyone and anything. He’s always constantly processing everything with his Six Eyes and Limitless technique. His thumb presses into your ilps, gentle at first, before grazing the tips of your teeth.

“Gojo…?” His name spills from your lips, tentative, as his thumb pushes further, brushing your tongue now, as your senses are now hit with a tang of salty skin.

“Satoru,” he corrects in a sharp tone, his frown deepening, dissatisfaction etching across his stupidly handsome features. His eyebrows furrow, that little crease forming in frustration. Your attempts to pull away irritate him—it’s clear in his actions. “I don’t answer to Gojo or Sensei with you anymore.”

His words are definitive, absolute. He carries authority like he always does.

And it’s so fucking maddening.

“Satoru,” you try again, your voice faltering as his thumb presses deeper onto your wet muscle, warm and insistent against it. Your heart skips a beat; your heartrate speeding up as heat flushes across your skin. “What… what are you doing?”

He grins that easy, carefree smile you’ve seen thousands of times. Now it feels different. Dangerous, as his sparkly blue eyes twinkling with trickster energy. He might rival Loki himself.

“Assessing how pretty my girlfriend’s pussy is,” he answers easily, waiting for your reaction. “Especially when you’re riding my face the way you will my cock.”

His crassness, though usually expected, still catches you off-guard, and more heat rushes to your cheeks. Your breath is lodged in your throat, embarrassing consuming the very core of your being like a wildfire.

“Did… did you just call me your girlfriend?” your voice wavers, caught between disbelief and something else…something that feels a little bit like…flattery?

Oh, Hell has certainly frozen over.

“And stop being so lewd!” you add in an icy tone.

He responds with a rich and lazy chuckle, far too pleased with himself.

“Don��t act so shocked, gorgeous; don’t dance around what’s been happening since you got here,” he coos. His thumb slides down, grazing your bottom lip. “Mine.”

You step back slightly, gripping his wrist and brushing him off; impressing yourself that you keep your touch firm when you’re trembling on the inside.

“Satoru,” you start again, trying to regain some semblance of control—some clarity amid all of this chaos.

“Yes, honey?” he addresses you in a low purr, teasing and commanding, making hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

He’s looking at you like he’s already won.

This fucking guy needs to be put in his fucking place.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to sigh. That frustration is still simmering beneath you; your foot tapping against the polished wooden floor, the sound sharp in the quiet classroom.

“What the hell is this?” you demand, narrowing your eyes into slits at him.

He tilts his head at you, folding his arms over his chest in that casual way of his. The movement causes his shirt to pull tight across his chest, emphasizing his taut lines.

“Isn’t it obvious? Or is your stupid showing?” he quips, but his voice is not in jest; it’s in a more serious manner. You’re impressed he can even take this seriously. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. It’s not rocket science, or some complex cursed technique, you know.”

You part your lips to protest, but he cuts you off, eyes flickering with something dark.

“Yeah, but—!”

“—but nothing,” he interjects, voice firm. “Mine.”

Your frustration finally boils over.

“No,” you growl, taking a few steps forward, forcing him to really look at you eye to eye. “You answer me. You owe me that much right now, Satoru.” You hate that your voice is trembling now, emotions raw and unfiltered because you have nothing to lose here.

He drags out a defeated sigh, the tension in his body easing as he relaxes his body. His eyes remain locked on yours.

“Fine.”

“Tell me the truth,” you demand, your voice low yet firm—a crackle of lightning in a raging storm. “What is this to you?”

He studies your face. When he speaks up, his voice carries a softer tone. More genuine.

“It’s simple,” he answers, carefully selecting his words. “You give me all of you. I give you all of me.”

His fingers trail down your arm, stopping at your elbow.

“Is it really so hard to understand how bad I got it for you? I’m nuts about you,” he goes on, his expression is almost…vulnerable. Open. He’s usually so guarded in spite of his silliness. “This isn’t a game to me.”

He’s giving you a chance to grapple with what he just admits to you. He’s giving a piece of himself he hasn’t given to anyone else since…well, you don’t know. You haven’t known him for as long as the others.

You chew on your bottom lip, warring with the questions in your mind.

“So…” you hesitate, voice barely audible. “Why me?”

He runs his hand through his shaggy hair, his eyes flickering with something that feels out of place. Raw. Honest. Something you’re so unused to seeing in Satoru.

“I mean, don’t you get it?” he sighs, almost to himself.

“Don’t you know how rare it is for someone to get my attention?”

You take a moment to process his words. You know they carry more weight than a casual, generic compliment. So far from sweet nothings. It’s a crack in all those layers he set up for himself. You’re peeling away at some of them.

“That’s not a direct answer,” you counter in a firmer tone, as a frown stresses your features. You won’t let him get away with just that.

His shoulders sag a bit in defeat.

“Then why don’t I just show you?” he suggests, his voice smooth, the challenge in his tone unmistakable. The atmosphere shifts like gears.

Before you can even process what he’s told you, Satoru hoists you by your bottom in a fluid, effortless motion, like you weigh a can of grapes to him (and you may as well have). Your back hits the hard surface of his desk with a thud.

His hands, gentle, but rough, trail down your thighs, his touch electric and the air between you growing thick and staticky, making shivers crawl down your spine. He meets your gaze, his electric blue eys locked onto yours. It’s too much to bear. Too much!

“May I?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly like earlier. His fingers hover just below the hem of your clothes. He’s so close yet so far away and you can’t believe you want this. You can’t believe you’re letting this play out. Maybe you like him more than you care to admit to yourself.

While he poses the question, his eyes tell you he already knows your answer.

Words dying on your tongue, tension in your body winding tight like a wind-up toy…

You bite your lip. With a barely perceptible nod, you grant him the permission.

In that same fluidity and effortlessness, he slips off your pants along with your panties, the fabric falling unceremoniously to the ground, leaving you fully exposed to him. The cool air nips at your skin, sending a ripple of goosebumps over your body as he spreads your legs wide across his desk. You’re vulnerable, laid bare before him, but the way he looks at you…you feel like you’re on top of the world.

Satoru’s gaze flits downward, and his liips part slightly as he takes in the gorgeous, raw sight of you, glistening in your natural arousal already. He licks his lips absently, a soft, animalistic sound escaping from deep in his throat.

“And you claimed you weren’t into it,” he purrs, his breath fanning against your sensitive flesh. The words are so teasing, so trolling, like he always is, but the effect he’s going for is anything but playful for you. Your body jerks involuntarily.

“Mean,” you pout, your lips forming that irresistible curve you know now that he can’t resist.

But you doubt Satoru’s going to give you any mercy here.

He shushes you, his voice a soft command as he leans in closer, his nose barely grazing your sensitive sex. Slowly, he uses both his hands to peel apart your folds, the movement achingly intimate. His eyes glisten with something almost feral as he whistles softly at the sight he’s been blessed to behold. Then, carefully, he dips a finger between your folds, gliding it along the slickness building there. His touch is feather-light, teasing, reverent, causing more heat to pool low in your belly and your groin.

“Look at that,” he teases, dragging the pad of his finger through your wetness, making you squirm under his touch. “All soaked for me. God, that’s the highest compliment in the world, baby. You have no idea.”

Your face burns from embarrassment, the flush spreading down your neck like you’ve caught a fever.

“Shut up,” you whimper as you feel his breath ghosts over your core again; the anticipation is worse. It’s so much worse. He eyes it for a few moments too long before finally sinking his teeth into the delightful meal that’s you.

The moment his tongue hits your sensitive flesh, a jolt of electricity shoots through your entire body. He starts from your entrance, rolling his tongue slowly up through your goopy folds, tracing a deliberate pattern toward your clit. The wetness, the gooeyness, everything leaves you breathless. You jolt in place, your back arching off the desk, but Satoru’s strong hands are quick to keep you steady. But his grip is tender yet firm.

His hands find yours, fingers intertwining with a kind of gentleness that is quite the juxtaposition to the party going on between your thighs. His thumbs brush over your knuckles in a soothing gesture, grounding you as his tongue pokes and prods at your sensitive flesh, lapping at your slick, gooey folds. He makes low groans, soft hums, little whimpers like he’s honored to finally do this.

It's so mean. It’s too much.

“Relax for me, gorgeous,” he purrs between fervent licks, his voice muffled slightly by the way he’s devouring you whole. The pressure coils in your stomach as his tongue continues to lap at your building slick, sloppy, wet, passionate. You can barely think straight now. The only thing swimming in your mind is Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. But you’ll never let him know that.

“Aw, fuck yeah,” he breaths, pulling back for a moment to speak and get an eyeful of your aroused, debauched state. “You have any idea how long I’ve been jerking off to the thought of this pussy?”

“Satoru!” you shriek, more out of embarrassment than indignation. Okay, maybe a little indignation. Each pass of his tongue makes every nerve ending in your body light up like fireworks!

“Stop being so lewd!” you demand, but there’s no real conviction behind your words.

He groans against you, the sound vibrating against your sensitive sex, and you’re squirming and writhing again beneath him and you know he’s savoring every minute of this, soaking this victory of his up like a sponge,

“I can’t help it,” he confesses, his voice ragged, breathless, reverent, as he continues to lap at your thick slick more urgently now. It’s messy, it’s sloppy, it’s wet, unrestrained, some of that thick slick catching on his chin. “You make me so wild, baby.”

He flicks his tongue over your clit, fast, hard, precise, and you swear you’re going to lose your fucking mind. Your mind is still spinning with Satoru, Satoru, Satoru, oh fuck. But you don’t want to say it out loud. It’s too much. It’s way too much

“And you taste so fucking good,” he growls, hoarse, that reverence in his tone still prominent, unmistakable.

Every roll of his tongue feels amazing. It’s dragging you under like the tides. You allow yourself to drown in the sensations, to live in the moment. Hie’s clinging onto you like you’re the only thing that matters in his world.

Finally, you feel something twitch down there, and something deep inside you snaps in two. The dam breaks, and you’re splattering more of your arousal on his face while screaming his name (something you can’t hold back now) which he gladly laps up like a thirsty dog, dramatically and loudly gulping down your slick as you come down through such an intense climax. Your pussy is still pulsating and he’s still licking along your gummy, sensitive skin, groaning at your natural taste; he tightens his grip on your hands, just slightly.

You find yourself pouting again when he pulls away, his lips and the bottom half of his face sheen from your slick. Your face is deeply red from arousal, panting as you come down. He shuffles around for more cleaning supplies, helping to wipe you down before helping himself.

“That convincing enough for you, gorgeous?” he inquires with a cheeky grin, sticking out his tongue in a petulant manner. He hums as he savors the taste of you still lingering on his tongue, dragging it along his teeth and catching any remnants of your taste.

“Fuck. That’s going to be amazing to come home to every day.”

“Satoru!” Your hands fly up to cover your face. “Stop! Stop! You’re being ridiculous!”

“I can’t help it,” he says again, prying your hands away from your face to get a good look at you in your flushed state. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. God, can’t you just let me spoil you now? Let’s stop dancing around this.”

“If you just stop being so….argh.”

“Like what, a pirate?” He strokes his chin as if lost in thought. “So when you say shiver me timbers, it’s because I’m making your legs tremble when I eat you out and worship you like the queen you are, right?”

You let out another frustrated groan and you so dearly want to wipe that stupid grin off of his pretty face! Why does he have to be so infuriating even now?? Even when you’re not wholly against the idea of being his girlfriend? It actually sounds kind of nice…

“OH MY GOD! SATORU! STOP!”

He chuckles, and a comfortable silence falls upon you both as you catch your breath.

“So does this mean you know how serious I am about you?” he finally asks, breaking through the silence. “I’m crazy about you. I’m nuts about you. I just want you to actually give me a chance to prove that to you.”

“There are so many more productive ways you could have gone about it,” you grumble with a shake of your head. “But fine, Satoru. You’ve earned this much. …I’m still a little pissed at you, but maybe you can make it up to me over time.”

“Deal,” he replies with a grin. “Just as long as I get to call you mine, and you get to call me yours.”

He cups his ear and leans in toward you, his grin not moving. “Now let me hear you call me yours.”

You roll your eyes in jest, leaning in toward him to whisper in his ear. “You’re mine, Satoru.”

His grin widens, and he pecks your lips, gazing into your eyes with pure adoration twinkling in them.

Yeah, you decide in your mind. You can give him a chance.

[pucksandpower]

Charles Leclerc x Reader - New Year’s Edition Social Media AU

May

f1wagupdates

Liked by leclercfan2, f1fan9, and 2,108 others

f1wagupdates is it heartbreak for our favorite paddock couple? watchful fans and media members were surprised when charles leclerc made his season debut without his longtime girlfriend, y/n y/l/n, by his side. they were further surprised when attempts to look at y/n’s instagram account revealed that she had deactivated. the trend continued as she has not attended a single race since the season began, including the monaco grand prix which the ferrari driver in question won just hours ago. missing his home race certainly seems to signal that the pair has ended their relationship

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ferrarifan3 this makes me so sad! she deactivated around christmas but i thought she just wanted a break from social media

f1fan6 they were so cute together 🥺

leclerc4ever this just proves that love isn’t real because if they broke up what hope is there for the rest of us?

ferrarihauntsme maybe they haven’t broken up? i mean this is really just pure speculation. y/n has her own life too. maybe something came up that means she can’t attend races as regularly as she used to

f1wagupdates but his home race? i can’t imagine she would miss monaco

ferrarihauntsme my point is that no one knows her situation and now fans are making a lot of assumptions without any context

f1fan8 thank you! people forget that drivers’ partners have their own lives and responsibilities too

December

f1wagupdates

Liked by ferrarifan7, f1fan5, and 2,009 others

f1wagupdates charles leclerc attended the prize giving ceremony alone. it appears that he has not moved on from y/n y/l/n despite being broken up for nearly a year

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f1fashion i loved seeing what y/n would wear since charles’ rookie year

ferrarifan1 i’ve seriously missed seeing her outfits around the paddock

leclercdefender these posts are getting weird. they’ve never confirmed that they’re no longer together and we know nothing about y/n’s personal life or literally anything that’s happening

f1wagupdates maybe they should just confirm it then

f1fangirl sorry but charles doesn’t owe fans information one way or the other about his relationship status and y/n definitely doesn’t either

y/n_leclerc

Liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 307,258 others

y/n_leclerc happy new year’s eve! i’m back. the past year brought about some wonderful changes as i became Mrs. Leclerc on january 16th and then mama to little Jules Hervé on december 2nd. we wanted to keep our growing family to ourselves for the time being and ask for our privacy to be respected as we continue on the beautiful journey that is marriage and parenthood. but don’t worry, the paddock hasn’t seen the last of me yet

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charles_leclerc mon monde ❤️

*translated from French my world*

y/n_leclerc we love you so much

pierregasly i’m already the favorite uncle

arthur_leclerc i’m obviously the actual favorite uncle

lorenzotl all lies since it’s me

scuderiaferrari congratulations! a future ferrari driver in the making

f1forever jules hervé 😭

leclercfan16 in actual tears right now

leclercdefender i refused to believe you broke up but omg??? never would have guessed this is what happened instead

[cheshirebitch]

ℕ𝕠𝕥 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕆𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕤

(Alastor x Angel Dust’s Sister!Reader) pt. 2

It really has been a long time, huh?

( previous ) -> ( next )

I have never seen Anthony look at me like that, as though I’m the villain destroying his life. But, last I checked, he was the one going by the real villain that actually did take his life. It was purely distasteful with his choice of name, let alone the fact that was his porno name. What was so wrong with his actual name?

“Listen toots, I didn’t want to ask you for help. We didn’t have any other choice.” The venom spat back at me made my eyes narrow at him. What the fuck is his problem? All of this attitude is not how Anthony would talk to me. It felt like this whole new persona was taking over who he really is. I wanted to rip him apart, but not in front of these people. I can’t let everyone know my weaknesses, even if they pretty much all knew tiny parts.

“I get that. So I’ll ask again, what did you need help with?” I seethed through my teeth, feeling the watching eyes of all his friends. I only tensed up at my own attitude when I remembered Alastor and Lucifer were here too. I rolled my eyes closed and took a deep breath in and out before having an eerily calm aura surrounding me. Knowing I wasn’t going to get an answer out of the pissed off porn star brother, I looked towards Charlie. I could tell I made her nervous, shivers running down her spine before she straightened herself out and answered me.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard that we- uh-“ She glanced back at Lucifer who was wide eyed back, shrugging slightly as a response.

“That you,” pointing at Niffty with a smug smile, “killed the great and Holy Adam? Yeah, hard to miss when it’s being broadcasted on every device in hell.” I crossed my arms, smiling. It was really amusing to see Lucifer step in with his slip up of phrasing. Alastor also put on a good show by standing against Adam. I never expected him to actually take on such a powerful Heaven icon.

“Yeah, well, we need help with reinforcement in case the angels decide to retaliate.” She nervously fidgeted with her fingers, Lucifer watching me with anticipation. They all were, really. I was honored they considered me for help against heaven. Pretending to be debating it, I took long strides between Lucifer and Alastor.

“With all things considered, that’s a lot of my members being potentially killed for you. What do you have to offer me to make it worthwhile?” My hand started to glow pink, flexing my fingers and watching Charlie. Lucifer couldn’t make a deal with me or that’ll make more problems, only leaving Charlie and Alastor. Not like Luci would ever make the trust between us obvious. It would be a poor move if he wants to keep his weaknesses unknown. Alastor would rather drop dead than to be on a leash of someone else, though I have a sneaky suspicion it’s because he’s already on a leash. I should ask him about it next time we have one of our talks. Also, I already knew what they were going to sell to me but I can’t just make an assumption with it.

“We will make sure Angel Dust gets redeemed.” My eyes light up pink, turning around to look at Alastor. He held his hand out casually, opposite of how Charlie held hers against her chest. What a bland, and predictable, deal offer.

“Alastor, baby, I already knew that. We both knew that.” I winked at him. “So, what else?” His smile strained, despite it appearing to become more entertained. I read him like a book. It wasn’t very hard since he loves to hide behind a smile, saying it made things more intimidating. I’d like to think it’s more so the idea of being able to bottle those emotions he loves to hide.

“What else? Darling, I think it’s more than reasonable for that to be a big deal.” He smiled his sharp teeth, my eyes watched them carefully. A sneaky feeling crawling up my spine as my eyes stuck like a magnet to him. That’s when Lucifer pushed Alastor’s arm down, rolling his sleeves up, walking towards me. He stuck his hand outstretched towards me, trying to intimidate me with a hard stare. I just smiled in response, awaiting for his deal. I guess they really are desperate if Luci won’t even let Alastor and I pretend to hash out this deal. It was already mutually understood what he was going to offer was more than just that. He was just toying with the rest.

“We will get your brother into heaven, and you.” My smile froze on my face. I couldn’t get into Heaven. No matter how hard any of us tries, I’ll always be stuck here in hell. That fate was sealed long ago. My hands have been permanently stained red and black from how many lives I selfishly took after the death of my two siblings. My hands crossed tightly behind my back as I pondered harder over what he was promising.

I don’t think I want to go to Heaven. I couldn’t place why but something small was trying to tug me to decide to stay in hell.

Something small. The idea of being in heaven with my two younger siblings was bigger. Hell, maybe even the forgotten sibling will be there too.

“Can you even make deals, Luci?” I purred out the nickname in a taunting manner, giving a small moment of silence between us. Since he wanted to air out dirty laundry, I’ll give more hints to how close we actually are. But, he definitely didn’t think he could make a deal either. Charlie tried reasoning with him while Alastor watched from the sidelines, an odd look in his eyes. They flickered to Lucifer before narrowing with displeasure. I guess someone doesn’t like sharing friends.

“I guess we will see, won’t we La Morte.” He was struggling to remain professional. Neither of us wanted to act like this. This was all just a show for our professional standpoints, but I hated it. I’ve had to act professional and put together all my life, no matter how hard I fought against my father to create a life for myself and my siblings who wanted out. That’s all any of us wanted. Lucifer was a good guy despite the title he carries. His daughter is also an amazing girl. I would have agreed to do this either way. But, too many eyes were watching in this moment, too many windows and vulnerability to be spotted for our soft realities of each other. My hand gripped his as pink and gold clashed together.

“You got a deal, Satan.” My smile turned poisonous as I gripped his hand. My magic branded his palm with a pink heart, healing itself just as quickly into a scar. I felt the searing pain of a tally mark etch into my back, ignoring the feeling and refusing to let it slip out that it even happened.

“Anyways, enough with the professional talk. If we are going to be a team, call me by my name. I’m (Y/n).” Whether they could tell or not, my smile was genuine when I reached to shake hands with Charlie, Lucifer still rubbing his hand where the heart was branded onto him. Alastor watched heavily, something else pulling the weight of his stare on me. There’s no way he knows about the reciprocating brand mark. What can he notice that I don’t have hidden?

“Your name is really beautiful! I’m glad I don’t have to call you Death every time I refer to you now.” Charlie smiled genuinely back. Trying his best to make it sound like he has never called me by my name before. My eyes raked over his figure, understanding it’s a secret he wants to keep.

“Well of course, any friend of Anth- I mean Angel Dust, is a friend of mine.” The sibling sense kicked in before I even had to turn around. Anthony just rolled his eyes at me. Quick movements led to my shoe being thrown at Anthony’s head, smacking him hard enough in the face to send him backwards.

“Che cazzo!” (What the fuck!) My head snapped 180 with my body facing Charlie still. Through a clenched jaw and wide wild eyes, I lectured Anthony under my breath.

“Schialla, stronzo.” (Chill out, Asshole.) He immediately stopped, slouching against the wall. Anthony muttered under his breath but at least it wasn’t as disrespectful and obvious. Husk found it amusing enough to stifle a laugh with Vaggie.

“So, what’s the war plans?” I beamed, excited to get murderous for a good cause. Those exorcists killed a lot of my people, pissing off my whole team and myself tremendously. That was our family they were murdering brutally, just so they could have their sick fun and somehow remain in the sky. That was something Charlie and I could get along with.

“About that…” Lucifer awkwardly smiled. You’ve got to be joking. They have nothing? My eyes glanced at Alastor, who was still staring at me. I narrowed my eyes on him, silently asking “you serious right now?” to which he looked amused and shrugged. Bastardo, it’s your skin also being risked here.

“Okay, what do I have to work with here?” Charlie reappeared with a stack of papers and dropped them into my hands. I blinked a couple times, gazing through the words scribbled on the papers. These were lousy attempts at battle plans or any sort of war plans.

“I’ll revise these and have them back to you soon. I do request to have somewhere nearby for me to stay, along with my members. Fifteen minutes away isn’t a good distance, doll.” Observing Charlie’s timid behavior. Lucifer peered behind his daughter, gauging my reaction to everything. I had my work cut out for me but any excuse to be involved in Anthony’s life again was something I was willing to risk everything for.

“Consider it done. Let’s take a stroll so I can show you where it’s at.” Lucifer snapped his fingers and excitedly held his arm out for me to take to walk with him. He was always trying his best to put on a front, but I know he’s still struggling. I mean we still meet and talk about ways for him to mend the broken relationship with Charlie. But, it feels like another negative energy was coming from where my other ally stood. When I turned to Alastor, his eyes were still locked onto my figure, wide and slightly terrifying. The look alone ran a chill down my spine. Why did it feel more exciting than terrifying?

“You coming?” Lucifer glanced backwards towards me, forcing me to peel my eyes away from the enticing ruby set still locked on me. Instead, my eyes met the pale yellow and glowing red set. The tension felt high, pushing me to leave immediately.

“Yeah, of course. Just taking the place in since I’ll be staying here, and potentially dying here.” I laughed sadistically as Lucifer frowned and elbowed me.

“Not funny. There is no way myself, or any of us, will let something happen to you. Unless you get redeemed, too.” He winked trying to sell the confidence he could get me into heaven with my brother. I doubt it, but no harm in trying.

Following down the hall, around back, there was a warehouse building directly behind it. It mirrored the looks of my warehouses that have been distributed in my territories. I could easily move a little over half of my people within this building, comfortably. The smile slowly dragged across my face before I could stop it. Lucifer was smiling back at me, satisfied.

“Che bello…” (How beautiful…) My whole body relaxed, feeling almost unnatural. I didn’t know how to handle how I was feeling at all. All this weight that’s been pushing down on my shoulders just lifted enough for me to breathe, to relax. No one has ever done something this tremendous for me. I could feel tears brimming my eyes, ripping me out of that relaxed feeling. Instead, it was replaced with a sense of dread and need to feel that relaxed again. Lucifer was smiling softly, hand snaked around my waist as he waited.

“You want to go see the inside, (Y/n).” A small smile remained as I allowed his arm to remain, feeling natural and familiar, but so wrong.

“We can’t keep doing this, Angel. We both know that!” Lucifer was having one of his episodes again. The thoughts of Lilith coming back any second, just to see him fucking some other girl and actually leave him type of thoughts. Not that I could ever understand what he’s going through and show sympathy, but rather I’m getting tired of fixing what I didn’t break.

“Listen, Luci, I know.” He stopped. In the poorly lit room, I could see his eyes glowing and a faint outline of his body shape standing on the opposite side of the bed. He knows what’s coming.

“What do you mean?” His eyes pierced mine. A hard stare swimming with all sorts of emotions. Panic was in the center of the tornado.

“Luci, we can’t keep having the same conversation every other day.” I sighed as he remained frozen in fear. One wrong move and I can destroy everything.

“I know you still love her. Nothing could ever change that. You have spent all of eternity together, created a beautiful daughter, ruled over hell. It’s not something you can just fix in seven years, and I never expected you to.” His eye twitched as his black hands started to curl in, making fists. I watched carefully how his breathing was now heavier. I didn’t want to make a bigger mess but I can’t mindlessly try and heal him again, no matter how badly I wanted to.

“What I did expect was some sort of progress to prove that you were learning to let go and love me.” It felt selfish how I was wording it, but my own abandonment issues were strangling me. It hurt to breathe and my vision was blurring. He huffed out, about to deny everything I’m saying.

“I know you love me, but not as much as Lilith.” My eyes froze on Lucifer in panic. Merda. (Shit.) I said her name.

“Don’t you ever say her name. Especially not like that. If she loved me, she wouldn’t have disappeared, abandoned me or Charlie. You don’t know anything.” I knew he didn’t mean it at the moment but my mom taught me one thing, never let a man tell you twice he doesn’t want you.

“It’s over, Lucifer.” I moved slowly to the door, refusing to turn my back to him and his eerie glowing eyes in the dark room, shutting the door quietly and carefully behind me.

During my walk back, it felt like a walk of shame. Opening and closing my door as quietly as possible to my office, sliding my back down the door. There is where I sobbed for hours, grieving a relationship where I actually felt loved, relaxed, and free from the impact my father has held on me all my life. This is where I vowed to never allow myself to get emotionally attached again.

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(As always, the characters belong to their owner and the story belongs to me. If you have any requests or ideas, send them over! I love to hear feedback! I will also gladly try to write things for my supporters! I have put a LOT of research and planning into this series! I also researched Italian to try and make it as real as possible! Thank you for the love and I hope y’all have a great day! <3 :)!)

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Tag List:

@pooka167 @serenity-songbird @readergirlstuff @nishayuro @lovingyeet @genderlessdude92 @slytherin4ever @random-3455 @mo-0-o @lucifers-silhouette @sadnessiscoldtea @idonthaveanameforthisacc @marxo5 @emonerdwinchester @macehysteria @tsukiko26

Tagged who I could, some it wouldn’t allow :(

[radiant-reid]

Angel

Summary: Based on 14x09 where BAU!Reader recounts how working the case reminded her of Spencer's addiction

a/n: tbh this is trash, just trying to get some motivation back

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

Content Warning: references to Spencer's Dilaudid addiction

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist | Navigation

There are flowers on the table. 

That's the first thing Y/n notices and the only thing out of place in their otherwise tidy house. Spencer's always been a clean person. 

The kid clutter- books, coloring pens, tiny shoes, the occasional Lego figure- that clutter, he's proud of.

Next to the vase is a bowl of pasta in a tomato-based sauce, and she guesses because of that, there's at least one child-size shirt soaking in the laundry with a stain on it.

"Hey, beautiful." Spencer makes her jump with his silent footsteps, followed by sudden voice. He touches her shoulders, massaging them softly. 

She turns around, placing a quick kiss on his lips. "Hey. Missed you."

He pulls her forward, resting his head on top of hers. "Missed you too. Glad you made it back safe." 

Things are different since the bureau mandated Spencer take time off as part of his reinstatement after prison. After the births of their three kids, Y/n stayed home, naturally, on maternity leave while Spencer continued going out on cases with the team. In between, and for most of their relationship and marriage, they worked at the BAU, spending almost every minute together. But this is different. Now, Spencer's the one that spends more time in DC, and in his 30 days not working at the BAU, he does an excellent job as a househusband. 

Y/n pulls back, admiring his features for the first time in days."Sleeping angels?" She checks.

He scoffs lightly. "Not so much." She raises her eyebrows, humored. "Water, bathroom, another story, you know how it goes."

She chuckles. "Oh, yeah, I've heard that song before."

"Love them, though." He adds. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving." She turns to the delicious-smelling pasts on the table while his hands stay on her waist. Spencer's learned a lot while being a dad but his learning to cook has been very rewarding for her.

They move to the couch, needing to be closer than they would be if they were sitting at the table. 

Her smile dimmers after she's complimented his cooking, and he's called her beautiful again. It's an easy difference in demeanor to spot for Spencer as a husband rather than a profiler. 

"The case?" Spencer guesses. 

Y/n takes a deep breath in and shrugs. "One like that wouldn't get to me usually." She tries to dismiss her feelings.

He catches it, having used the same technique many times. If it's bothering her, they're going to discuss it. "It was Tara's ex-husband that discovered a pattern?"

"Mm-hmm, uh, Daryl, he brought it to her, thinking there was an angel of death unsub killing people in the recovery community." She recaps, although he already knows from their discussion on the phone. 

Technically, he's only allowed to know the basic details, not offer advice, but as long as Emily doesn't officially know that the occasional case-solving tip comes from Spencer, it's okay.

"What was his vice?" He asks.

Tara didn't want to spill all the details, but Y/n had made a few assumptions. "Alcohol, drugs later, I think." 

"So why was this one more difficult than usual?" Spencer asks, frowning then it hits him. "Oh." 

Y/n feels a pang of guilt in her chest at Spencer's expression contorting. "No, I don't mean-" She pauses, not knowing what to say. Neither can deny that her feelings are connected to what Spencer went through.

"Comparing the victims to me?" He guesses again.

Her selfishness feels even worse than her guilt. "No. Tara had to give a heart-wrenching speech. And we were in very different situations, her and Douglas and you and I, but it made me think about that time." She tries to explain it.

Spencer understands, and he nods solemnly. "We never talk about that in relation to you." He realizes that it's something he feels guilty about.

"I don't like to talk about it." She shrugs. "Just hearing what Tara said struck a chord." She could feel Tara's pain through Emily's repeated words, and it was all too easy to remember the heartbreak of seeing someone she loved struggling.

Spencer takes her hand, squeezing it lightly. "We can talk about it whenever you want, you know?" 

"Not now." She shakes her head. "I missed you." 

He smiles softly, resting against the couch and spreading his arms out. Y/n rests her legs over his and tucks herself under his arm. "I missed you too." He kisses her forehead and holds her closer. Things feel better when they're all under one roof. "Y/n, it's really important to me that you know how much I appreciate you staying through that. You're an angel, you know?"

"Spence." She coos, touching his cheek softly and momentarily getting caught in his eyes. "It wasn't a hard choice to stay with you and support you through that. I love you, and I'll always be here for you."

He takes a deep breath in. "I love you too. I could talk about how grateful I am for you forever, you know?"

"I know." She laughs lightly, having heard those speeches from him more than once. It never gets less heartwarming.

Spencer shuffles slightly, reaching out to take something off the coffee table. She raises her eyebrows until a look of recognition takes over her features. 

"A photo album?" She asks curiously. "Why's that out here?" 

"It's our first." He explains as he opens it, tracing his finger over the cover page. "Tillie wanted to see it." He finds the page he's looking for, showing her a photo of them. 

Y/n grins, looking at it, remembering the exact second it was taken. "You look so little." She coos, touching the glossy picture of them. They're not much older than 25, fresh-faced, innocent, and dressed nicely. Spencer's smiling the adorable smile he still smiles today. It's stayed the same through every challenge they've faced.

"You've always been so beautiful." He mumbles, stroking her hair with his spare hand.

Her cheeks heat as she taps him on the shoulder. "Stop." She whines. 

"Never." He shakes his head. "You're gorgeous, and I'm going to make sure you know it. I have no idea how I got so lucky."

She chuckles, shaking her head. "I'm the one that got lucky, marrying a genius."

"I married a genius too," Spencer claims, and he pulls her even closer to him like there's any chance she wants to move.

"Can we just sit here a while?" She asks as she relaxes more into him. 

He leans down to kiss her forehead. "For as long as you want, angel."

[patricia-taxxon]

ok. i cheated, i needed to be told that i was already on the right track. now both outer wilds and void stranger have had a moment where i basically had all the information but the riddle just missed its opportunity to land, creating complete destructive interference with no way of pushing through, because the game had already told me all of its clues and it's not like I could just put the pieces together in a different way. details/spoilers below

so my only lead was the murals, and how they were the same dimension as the brand I was asked to draw at the beginning. I also noticed the suspiciously easy brand-sized rooms, but didn't know what to do with them. zone 5 is actually where i realized that i could form the brand with the tiles after I realized it had the same quantity of tiles as the indents on the mural with one space left over for the stairs. So I made it, after a lot of effort, and continued down. Nothing happened. Now, i really think this was a reasonable assumption to make, that the stairs didn't count, but since nothing happened, I assumed I'd done something wrong. There were two possibilities, either I needed to keep one of the white tiles in my inventory and use the stairs as one of the pixels, OR, since this game has often been cagey about how it works, i needed to repair every mural in one run and it's just not telling me. I had the opportunity to test this on the next 6x6 room, which I noticed was also mostly glass, so I assumed that I shouldn't discriminate between types of tiles and used the stairs as one of the pixels. Still nothing. Okay, so this had to be one of those special constrained runs that people keep telling me about, I need to fix all the murals in one run. Except the eighth mural is blocked off. Okay, nevermind, there was no lead, game over. I was completely out of tools to determine if there was anything to be discovered.

So if you've played the game, you'll know my mistake was not listening to Gor. When Gor told me "when the path to damnation rests within you, place your faith and embrace the void" she actually meant, pick the stairs up with your scepter after you've already marked the brand and then jump in a pit. I assumed "the path to damnation rests within you" meant eating the fruit that demon gives you and getting the bad ending, because the things you pick up with the staff aren't resting within you, the UI shows them resting on the staff. I'd already been directed by the game to just shut the door on this whole brand lead because I'd been punished so thoroughly and I was never going to connect Gor's incantation to it. They just missed the opportunity for me to solve this riddle authentically. the game meticulously shut the door for me.

[girlkisser13]

ADDRESSING THE ACCUSATIONS

if you haven’t read the post by @valsverse, you can read it here.

i want to clear the air regarding the accusations being made against me. i understand that this situation has caused a lot of concern, but i need to be very clear: besides the situation that happened months ago (that had already been resolved) i did not engage in any plagiarism. i have also never harassed anyone. the claims being made are false, and it’s disheartening to see someone spreading misinformation about me in the community. i value the tumblr space and have always worked to contribute positively.

The Original Incident + The Resolution of that Incident

as many of you may know, approximately four to five months ago, i was caught plagiarizing the work of a well-known writer in the pjo fandom. when searching for "pjo dating headcanons," @valsverse's posts consistently appear among the top results. after reading her content, i made the regrettable decision to extract her writing from multiple posts and consolidate it into a single post for each character. this choice was both unethical and misguided, and i take full responsibility for my actions.

on june 3, 2024, after being contacted about the plagiarism accusation, i did block the user— not out of malice, but because i was overwhelmed and didn’t know how to handle the situation. this was a mistake, and i apologize for how it may have come across. however, once we reconnected, we did resolve things privately, and I took responsibility for my actions. i never should’ve copied anyone’s work.

regarding the request to take down the post, it wasn’t an attempt to avoid accountability, but rather an effort to move on from the situation. the backlash was intense, and it was emotionally challenging to cope with. it was to the point that i was receiving death threats and messages in my inbox telling me that "my parents should have hit me harder as a child". i appreciate that the post remained up as a matter of principle for the other user, but i also felt that once we had come to an agreement, i was still facing more negativity than i knew how to handle.

since then, i’ve made a conscious effort to learn from this and be more respectful of others’ work. i’m committed to improving and being part of this community in a positive way.

MultifandomBisexual13

with the permission of this account, i have added screenshots of the conversations between their account and @valsverse.

@valsverse has claimed that @multifandombisexual13 and i are the same person. this argument hinges on circumstantial evidence, but it doesn’t actually prove that we are the same person. similar usernames, reposting content, or replying within a short time frame can easily be coincidences, especially within fandom spaces where people often support similar creators and engage with their content closely.

while it’s true that both of our accounts include the number "13," this does not imply we are the same person. as many of you may know, i’m a swiftie, and the number "13" holds significant meaning within that fandom. furthermore, suggesting that i am behind the other account simply because it includes "multifandom" in its username, and i happen to write for multiple fandoms, is unfounded. by that logic, would every account featuring "multifandom" also be attributed to me? such an assumption is both unreasonable and baseless.

she also claims that we share the same "writing style." if using all lowercase is what defines having the same "writing style," then sure, we share that. but by that logic, i also share the same style with the majority of the pjo fandom. does that mean i’m secretly running every single pjo account? of course not— that’s an absurd assumption.

furthermore, i do not know why @multifandombisexual13 only reblogs my posts and why my account is the only one featured in the "check out these accounts" section. however, i want to stress that @valsverse doesn’t have any credible evidence to support the claim that we are the same person. it’s important to avoid jumping to conclusions without solid proof, and I hope this helps clear up any misunderstandings. i understand that @valsverse feels harassed, and it’s fair to address that. however, accusing someone of operating multiple accounts without solid evidence is wrong.

The Anonymous Messages + My Brother's Involvement

so, when i received the screenshot sent to my account, i genuinely didn’t know what to expect. honestly, the reaction i got was a bit overwhelming. yes, i told @valsverse that my brother sent that message. for anyone with younger siblings, you know how it is—sometimes they grab your phone without you realizing it, and things can get messy. it’s not unusual for a sibling to get involved, especially if they’re curious about what you’re up to online.

but instead of understanding that, i was met with accusations and skepticism. suddenly, it felt like i was being scrutinized for having family access to my account, and they implied that it was ridiculous for my brother to have any involvement at all.

the absurdity of the situation was hard to digest. i was just trying to explain what happened, but instead, it felt like i was being painted as a liar. it’s disheartening to see my honest intentions twisted into something malicious. i was being transparent, but all i got in return were assumptions about my character.

and when i tried to apologize after being caught off guard, it only seemed to add fuel to the fire. i felt like my attempts to clear the air were dismissed, and i wish you could all see it from my perspective. i’m just a person navigating a complicated situation with a younger sibling who sometimes doesn’t understand the implications of their actions.

in the first screenshot, @valsverse asserted that i should "either deactivate my account or admit the truth." while i cannot definitively ascertain whether this statement was intended as a threat, it nonetheless raised concerns for me. i want to emphasize that throughout this situation, my intention has always been to convey the truth. i believe in the importance of honesty and integrity, and i hope this clarification sheds light on my perspective. my goal is not to evade responsibility, but rather to communicate openly about my actions and the circumstances surrounding them.

as i write this, i am acutely aware of how absurd it may sound. the assertion that "my brother sent that message" might seem implausible at first glance, yet i invite you to consider that it could, in fact, be true. my brother, who is twelve years old and actively engaged in the pjo fandom, has a keen awareness of the ongoing "drama" between myself and @valsverse. from his perspective, the message he sent to her was intended as a harmless "joke".

furthermore, it's important to note that my brother has adhd, which contributes to his tendency toward impulsive behavior. this characteristic can lead him to act without fully considering the consequences of his actions. given his familiarity with the dynamics of the fandom and his impulsivity, it is entirely plausible that he may have sent the message in question without fully understanding the context or the potential ramifications.

in light of these factors, i hope you can appreciate the complexity of the situation and recognize that the possibility of my brother’s involvement deserves thoughtful consideration rather than outright dismissal.

Summary

to sum it all up, after the resolution of the initial plagiarism incident, i can confidently state that i have not engaged in the plagiarism of anyone's work. the only instances of plagiarism i have committed were specifically related to the pjo fandom. since that time, i have made a conscious effort to create original content that reflects my own ideas and creativity. for all other fandoms in which I participate, I take great pride in the fact that the work i produce is entirely my own. i believe in the importance of intellectual honesty and integrity in writing, and i am committed to upholding these values in all my future endeavors.

i would like to clarify that i harbor no animosity toward @valsverse. in fact, i hold her in high regard as both a writer and a creator, which is, regrettably, a factor in why i plagiarized her work in the first place. i would never condone or encourage anyone to harass her, and i take full responsibility for the circumstances surrounding this situation. furthermore, @multifandombisexual13 has engaged in harassment toward a mutual of mine and has unfoundedly accused her of plagiarizing my work. due to these actions, i blocked her. when @valsverse requested that i reach out to her, i had to unblock her in order to do so.

@valsverse, if you’re reading this (and you likely are), i understand your desire to make this situation public. if i were in your position, i likely would have done the same thing. however, i want to clarify that the apologies i offered— those that you referred to as "pulled out of my ass"— were genuinely aimed at salvaging our relationship. at one point, we were mutuals, and i valued that connection. when you unfollowed me, i reciprocated by unfollowing you as well. i'm not sure why you unfollowed me, but i want to sincerely apologize for the impact my actions have had on your mental well-being. it pains me to know that i contributed to any distress or discomfort you have experienced. please understand that it was never my intention to cause you harm, and I am truly sorry for the damage I have inflicted.

i hope that the evidence i have provided in this post enables you all to draw your own conclusions about me. it is important to consider the context and nuances surrounding the situation, as well as my actions and intentions. i encourage you to reflect on the information presented and assess it critically. ultimately, i understand that perceptions can vary, and i respect your ability to form your own judgments based on the details i have shared. your understanding of my circumstances is valuable to me, and i appreciate your willingness to consider my perspective.

if anyone has questions or seeks clarification regarding any aspect of what i’ve wrote, please do not hesitate to reach out. i am more than willing to engage in a conversations and provide any additional information you may require. your understanding is of great importance to me, and i welcome the opportunity to address any concerns you might wish to raise.