#the repulsion might just be jealousy

[j-crow]

vro does NOT know 😭😭🙏🙏

[dinogoofymutated]

Jealousy headcannons! Multi/GN!Reader - Cable, Gambit, Nightcrawler, Quicksilver. Ok I know this wasn't on the schedule butttt Yeahhhh. Cable is going to have an extended version of his fic, and I might do the same for the others but no promises! Also I know that Cable's written half is literally just the snippet I shared with some minor edits but bear with me please his stuff is in the works!!! TWs: Jelousy. Barfights. No violence on Reader but men are creepy. Mentions of sex work. Cable and gambit make public spectacles it's just what they do. The return of wolverine and the X-men Pietro bc I love him

Cable

Look, any man who comes over to flirt with you after you walk in with a legit wall of muscle has to be either stupid or blind.

Cable is by no means a very jealous man. He's not gonna care if a man (or woman) approaches you and starts up a conversation. He might get a little frustrated if they start flirting with you, but he trusts you. He knows you can take care of yourself and he doesn't want you to feel like he's got you on a leash.

But when someone is being persistent, not taking no for an answer, and hell, putting their hands on you? He doesn't take it too well. He's more of an overprotective type when it comes to his flavor of jealousy.

    “That beer for me, Beautiful?” The voice of a stranger cuts through your thoughts, and to be honest, you don’t even think he’s talking to you until you realize how close to you he is. He’s sat on the barstool next to you, leaning towards you like he can’t quite catch his balance. You make a face at him, nonchalantly moving Cable’s beer closer.

    “Last time I checked it wasn’t.” You say curtly. The man has a smile hiding behind his pout as he leans a little closer to you, oblivious to the way you casually recoil from him.

    “Oh c'mon, don’t play hard to get. I’m chill!” You can tell this guy is most definitely drunk, and you find yourself trying not to roll your eyes at him. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was in.

    “Sure you are. But believe me, my Husband is not.” You tell him. You're not married, but to be honest, you knew this guy wasn't going to leave you be if you left him with some vague label. Didn't matter anyway, however, the stranger laughs in your face, and his breath smells like alcohol and cheap cigarettes, a nasty combo that repulses you. You point back at the corner booth where the cable was sitting just a few minutes before, hoping that he’d at least back off at the sight of the six-foot hunk of muscle you call a lover. Unfortunately, He doesn't. 

    “What Husband?” The man says mockingly, and when you look at the booth you find yourself pointing at an empty seat. The sight lights a small flicker of anxiety in you, and your face falls as the man sets a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. It’s not there for long before the weight suddenly disappears. You snap your head around, feeling relief when you see the man’s wrist caught in Cable’s literal iron-clad grip. 

    “This Husband.” Cable grunts.

    All of the blood drains from the stranger’s face in an instant, but it doesn’t take long for the attitude to come back. He tries to yank his arm out of Cable’s grip, but Cable’s arm doesn’t move an inch. To be honest, the sight kinda made you blush a little. Sure, you had seen Cable’s strength many times, but this… well. This was different. The guy starts to yank a little more aggressively, and all Cable has to do is clench his hand for the asshole to yelp and give up. You set a placating hand on his shoulder, and Cable glances back at you. His gaze softens, and he sighs before letting the guy go.

    “What’s your problem, man?” The stranger spits as he holds his bruised wrist. You had already gathered your things and were getting ready to get the hell outta dodge, giving Cable’s shoulder a hard pat as you desperately tried to keep him from getting in a barfight. Cable ignores the guy, walking close behind you as you start to walk away.

    “ -s’ an ugly bitch, anyway.” The stranger mumbles under his breath, but not nearly as quiet as he should’ve. Cable stops in his tracks, wheels around, and slugs the guy with his left arm. There's a sickening crunch and the bar goes silent as the drunken stranger is violently knocked from his seat. Your first instinct is to scold Cable, but the guy had it coming anyway. You look around, and with every eye in the bar squarely on you and Cable, you decide you’ve definitely stayed past your welcome.

Gambit

Gambit is probably the most jealous man in this lineup. Again, He will get fidgety and somewhat aggressive when someone approaches you and begins to flirt, but he trusts you. He doesn't want you to think he doesn't, and as a result, he tends to grit his teeth and bite his tongue to keep himself in check.

There's definitely a very, very thin line in between "I don't want to be overbearing" Remy and "This guy needs to take the fucking hint" Remy.

He's mostly fine with drunk bastards, He thinks they're funny, and as long as they're not bothering you for the most part he'll keep the aggression to a minimum. -But the one thing he absolutely cannot stand is snobby pricks who think they can steal you from him because he's a "swamp rat."

"It's a shame to see such a lovely creature like you standing here all alone." You try not to roll your eyes at the man that approaches you. You and Remy were supposed to have a nice, romantic night out. It was your anniversary, and Remy had told you that he wanted to pull out all the stops for this one. Unfortunately, fate wasn't on either of your sides today. The X-men needed Gambit, and you told him that the plans can wait for another time. Remy, in a very gambit fashion, told you to dress up anyway and he bet he would meet you there. Definitely a rather High-stakes gamble, but you loved him, so you said you'd hold him to it.

Unfortunately for you, it looked like the restaurant was hosting an event at the bar for what looked like a rather stuffy- sorry, High-end law firm. You had been content with waiting for Remy, even if the waitress clearly looked convinced he was standing you up. You had ordered something to drink while you waited, and caught the wrong kind of attention during your trip to the bar.

"I'm not alone, I'm waiting for someone." You say, flashing him an annoyed smile. He smiles back in a smartass kind of way, flashing you his Rolex as he pushes up his glasses. Great. He thinks you're a sugar baby- or maybe a sex worker. Either way, you really wished he was anywhere but here.

"Right. I'll be honest with you, I know you've been waiting here for what- and hour now? Hour and a half? Any guy that leaves you here for that long is not worth your time, sweetheart." You cringe at the nickname, but he clearly can't seem to tell. At this point, you start debating your options. You could run to the bathroom, but there weren't any windows you could crawl out of and he could wait at the door for you to come out. You could try to leave, but you didn't want Remy to think that you left him hanging. It's probably best if you stay and wait for him, but man was this guy getting on your nerves.

"Again, I'm waiting on someone. I'm choosing to wait on him, and frankly, I'm not interested in you." You say bluntly, getting more and more aggravated. The man only smirks at you.

"You're certainly a fiesty one. Don't worry, I like it when they play hard to get." He sends you wink that makes you want to sock him, and to be honest, you start to think about it. The bell at the door of the restaurant dings, and you glance over, face breaking out in a smile at the sight of the man you had been waiting on.

Remy was still in his x-men suit, obviously having come fresh from the fight. He's got some dirt on his face, and his hair is a little messier than normal, but you had never been so happy to see him.

"Well, don't you clean up well." You joke as Remy walks to your table. He chuckles, barely sparing the other man a side-eye before picking up your hand to kiss it.

"Sorry, Chère. Originally, I planned on changin', but I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you here for another moment." Remy's fond gaze turns into a bit of a glare when he finally looks over at the gobsmacked man across the table from you. "I see you've made a new friend?" You roll your eyes at that, shaking your head. Remy gets the message.

There's a gasp from the other patrons of the restaurant, as the sound the contact made was rather loud. There's already a red mark forming on the mans face as you take Remy by the hand and begin to lead him out of the restaurant. Remy is looking at you like he'd fallen in love with you all over again.

"You've been waiting all this time for some Cajun freak?" The man blurts out, finally having found his words.

"Watch it, Mon ami." Remy's shoulders tense as he snarls at the prick. You stand up, giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze before you walk in front of the man. The side of his mouth slightly upturns as you do so, right before you slap the everloving shit out of him.

"I know you really wanted for us to eat here, honey, but to be honest? I like your cooking better anyway."

Nightcrawler

Kurt? Jealous???

Absolutely. He absolutely gets jealous. Kurt is much more of a "cat" kind of jealous than a Guard Dog kind of jealous though. He's not going to do anything crazy like punch anyone, but he's gonna brush up against you, slide his tail around your waist, hold your hand. He wants reassurance from you more than he is angered by whoever is flirting with you.

That's not to say he's not angry. He doesn't like the way some people look at you like a piece of meat instead of the intelligent, beautiful person you are, and he's not afraid to call people out on it.

Kurt knew that the guy you were talking to right now was only stopping to ask you for directions, but he really didn't like how close to you the guy was. Kurt had gone off to get you something to eat from the street food vendor nearby, telling you to just relax and he would be back soon.

When he returned with food in hand, it was obvious to him what was happening, but he still couldn't help but frown. The man is leaning into your space as he shows you the map in his hands. It's fine. There was obviously nothing really going on, the stranger must have been simply touchy. He then watches as the man sets a hand on the back of your waist to point at a building up ahead, and Kurt's mind quickly changes.

Obviously, you had stepped out of the stranger's reach quickly, uncomfortable with the action, but Kurt still slinked up to your side like a cat, pulling you close with his tail as he hands you your food, resting his newly freed hand behind your back.

"There you are, Meine Liebe. I hope you didn't wait for too long." Kurt says sweetly, giving you a grin. You smile back at him, thanking him for the food. You felt relieved to see him. Sure, the stranger that had been speaking to you seemed to be a nice man, but there was a certain amount of comfort and security Kurt provided when he was near you. Kurt makes a show of leaning in and kissing you on the cheek that makes you giggle. The stranger clears his throat after a quick moment.

"-Sorry if I interrupted your date. I appreciate the directions!" He says quickly, face flushed red from embarresment.

"You're perfectly fine! I hope you're able to find what you're looking for alright." You respond sweetly, waving as the man walks off. Kurt is pouting again when you look at him, tail still wrapped comfortably around you. You can't help but giggle.

"You're so jealous." You laugh. Kurt gives you an innocent look as he brushes off the accusation.

"Whaaat? No. Ich habe dich vermisst. That is all!"

Quicksilver

I'm not even gonna lie the fic half of this is just part of that enemies to lovers hcs that I wrote

anyway!!

Pietro is a very pouty, bratty kind of Jealous.

Like sure he trusts you and all but you actually looked at someone else while they were speaking to you? >:[ Don't look at them. Look at him. Smile at him not them. You're laughing at something they said? Well, he's funnier than them!!

He's just, so pouty over the smallest, pettiest things. He just needs a smooch on the forehead and some reassurance and also possibly cuddles, and he'll be fine. God he's such a brat ILHSM

However, If someone is actually flirting with you or going too far and making you uncomfortable, he will in fact throw hands. Or do his speedster thing and find a way to embarrass them, like pantsing them or planting something embarrassing on them. One time he snatched a guy's cell and called his wife before planting it in the man's pocket so she could hear all the flirting he was doing. Now that was fun.

"So I heard you had dinner with the wolfie guy tonight." The sound of Pietro's voice makes you yelp in surprise. You whirl around to see him leaning against the wall of your room, arms crossed. You scoff, and pick a pillow off of your bed to chuck it at him. He catches it easily.

"His name is Logan, and No. Not really. All we did was happen to sit next to each other at dinner." You turn back around to sit at your vanity, but Pietro is already there, sitting on the stool with the pink pillow tucked into his arms.

"So you did have dinner with him?" He pouts. You roll your eyes at him, holding back a laugh as you shove him off the seat. He looses his balance for less than a second before there's a gust and he's sitting cross-legged on your bed, having tossed the pillow to the side.

"What does it matter to you, anyway? You're not even supposed to be here, Pietro." You tease as you sit down, unable to keep yourself from smiling. You comb through your hair as you ready yourself for bed, still grinning like an idiot as you hear Pietro huff and haw.

"Why shouldn't it matter?" He asks, watching as you complete your routine. "I- I have a reason to care." He stutters out cheeks flushing a light pink that reaches his ears. You cover your mouth to keep yourself from laughing.

"Don't laugh!" Pietro objects, and it sends you into a fit of laughter as you stand back up and flop onto your back on the bed next to him.

"He's not my type anyway." You say. It only takes a second before Pietro is leaning over you, caging you between his arms. There's the ghost of a grin beginning to form on his face, simply at the sight of your own cheesy expression.

"What is your type, then?" He asks, and you cock an eyebrow at him.

"Let's just say I prefer a man who can keep up with me." You say with a wink that may or may not have been the most terribly, corny action you could have done. Pietro doesn't seem to care as his face is split with an equally as corny grin.

Both of you are caught off guard by someone calling your same from the hallway, and then a knock shortly after. You take Pietro's moment of distraction and quickly lean up, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Pietro looks absolutely shocked.

"You better get going." You whisper. He smiles at you, almost in disbelief, and then he's gone, the window left open and the breeze catching on curtains, blowing gently.

[xomakara]

Tension and Desires

SUMMARY |  You and Yunho are friends who are oblivious to each other's feelings. Despite the playful animosity between you two, a strong sexual tension simmers beneath the surface. After a night of flirting and drinking, you finally give in to your desires…

PAIRINGS |  Yunho x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  obliviousfriend!Yunho, obliviousfriend!Reader, smut, oblivious friends to lovers, non-idol au, jealousy, boneheads/idiots in love

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, protected and unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), marking (hickies), shower sex, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving/m. giving), dirty talk, praise kink, creampies

LENGTH |  8,466 words

TAGLIST | —

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I originally had a different title for this one but I changed it since it didn't really make sense for this fic LOL. Thank you @kpop---scenarios and @anyamaris for beta reading this! I'm so glad you both like it! I hope everyone else likes it haha. Show support by liking, commenting and reblogging. Love you all 💚

You knew Yunho was trouble the second you met him. That cocky grin, the way he always seemed to be one step ahead of you, and the undeniable spark in his eyes whenever you were near. You couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered whenever he was around, but you also couldn't stand his arrogance. It was a constant push and pull, a battle of wits and wills, a dance of attraction and repulsion. You were enemies, yes, but there was an unspoken tension between you, a simmering heat that threatened to consume you both.

The neon lights blurred as you stepped into the bustling club, a wave of laughter and music washing over you. Your friends all decided it would be a good idea to celebrate your last day of freedom before you started the full-time job of keeping up with law school and you were too drunk on the possibilities for tonight to question it. As long as you played it safe, you were going to have a great last night as a college girl.

Shimmies and shapes began to appear as the music buzzed, your friends pulling you and waving for attention from across the room. Mingi's arm slung casually over your shoulder, a playful grin on his face as he led you through the crowd. Wooyoung was already on the dance floor, a whirlwind of energy, while San and Yeosang held court at a table, drinks in hand and smiles on their faces. The night was young, and the possibilities were endless.

The party was in full swing, bodies swaying to the pulsing music, laughter echoing through the room. You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Hongjoong, a sly grin on his face. 

"Here," he said, extending a glass filled with a shimmering amber liquid. "This'll get you in the mood." 

You hesitated, eyeing the drink suspiciously. 

"What is it?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. Hongjoong chuckled, his eyes twinkling. 

"Just a little something to loosen you up," he replied, giving you a wink before walking away to join Yeosang and San at the table. 

Yunho's eyes sparkled with mischief as he walked up to you. "Looks like Hongjoong was trying to get you plastered."

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "I'm just trying to figure out what the fuck this is."

"Do you want to find out?" He leaned closer, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils and sending goosebumps prickling down your spine. "Don't be shy. I know you."

You glanced down at the drink and back at him, fighting the urge to smile.

"I might be curious. But what's in it for you?" you asked. Yunho smirked, taking a step closer so that his chest was mere inches away. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, feel his gaze traveling over your face. His eyes lingered on your lips and he smiled again, looking like he was enjoying himself.

"Maybe I just like making trouble," he whispered. He plucked the glass from your hand, bringing it to his lips and downing the drink in one smooth movement. His tongue darted out to lick the residual amber from his lips before he placed the empty glass down on the counter behind him. He leaned closer to you, his voice dropping an octave as he spoke. "I could tell you but then I'd have to kiss you. And you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Can you two stop flirting and get your asses over here?!" Wooyung called out as he joined the rest of the gang at the table. The lights pulsed to the rhythmic beat of the music and the temperature of the room seemed to rise several degrees.

"I, for one, have no problem with you making out," Seonghwa teased, causing Hongjoong and Jongho to laugh. "As a matter of fact, I think you two should just go ahead and kiss."

"You must be fucking crazy if you think I'm going to kiss him," you retorted with a huff. Hongjoong rolled his eyes and looked away as Jongho smothered a grin with his hand. Yeosang and San were thoroughly amused, chuckling and throwing a wink here or there.

"If you're too chicken to make a move, maybe he should just find someone else who will kiss him," Mingi shrugged, his gaze drifting to the crowd dancing and all the pretty girls that were bouncing and shaking.

"Oh? Do you have someone in mind, Mingi?" Wooyung jokes, looking past him to the other side of the bar. A sly smile slipped across Mingi's lips as he pointed at someone a few tables away from their own. "Assuming she says yes."

"Any girl that turns down Yunho is insane," Mingi huffed, giving you a pointed look.

"And I should care why?" You snorted as you looked from Yunho's handsome smirk to the girl Mingi had chosen. She was certainly pretty, wearing a flowy white blouse and tight black jeans, her red lipstick the perfect complement to her striking features. You watched as she glanced over at Yunho, giggling behind her hand. “I don’t care if he flirts with other girls.”

“Uh huh,” Jongho raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you say.”

"Have fun watching the show then," Yunho grinned, standing up and dusting imaginary lint from his jacket.

"You'll definitely know where I am," you retorted, not caring at all if he was only flirting for the hell of it. "Maybe I'll meet someone cute enough that I'll forget all about you and kiss them instead."

"Like who? Our friends?" he quipped, an eyebrow arching high on his forehead. "We all know you only have eyes for me."

"Ugh!" You rolled your eyes and downed another drink. "Fuck off!"

As you watched Yunho saunter across the club towards the pretty girl Mingi had singled out, something within you twisted sharply. It took everything inside you not to storm across the floor and yank her away from him. But you didn't even want Yunho... did you? The alcohol you'd consumed must have been having more of an effect on you than usual.

"He won't do it," Hongjoong laughed, slamming his empty glass down onto the table. Jongho sat beside him, an amused smirk dancing on his lips.

"He's only ever had eyes for you, Y/N," Yeosang chimed in with a drunken grin. "Never any other girl but you."

"You all need to get your eyes checked," you hissed. But the sinking sensation in your gut said something entirely different.

The pair leaned together, whispering back and forth, flirting and giggling, their eyes never straying far from each other. Jealousy and curiosity surged through you as you watched. Your pulse raced with an irrational need to reach out and pull him back, to declare you were his and not allow the unknown girl to lay a single finger on him. 

You needed another drink.

Slipping away from your friends and their silly assumptions, you slid between dancing patrons and dodged drunken strangers until you made it to the bar. An attractive bartender in a form fitting uniform stepped up and you placed an order. He looked you over, nodding and winking appreciatively before stepping away to make your order. A familiar presence pressed against your side. Turning, you spotted San and smiled, greeting him. His arm encircled your waist as he pulled you to him, to talk in your ear over the loud thump of the bass.

"You okay?" He asked, his gaze following yours to watch Yunho as he flirted with the pretty girl. "He won't kiss her."

"Why would I care?" You blurted, refusing to look back at Yunho's tempting smirk as it bloomed on the girl's flushed cheeks. "I don't care about him, not at all."

"You can pretend all you want," he smiled at you foundly. "But Yunho is different when he's with you. He doesn't look at anyone like he looks at you."

The bartender returned, shooting you another flirty grin, before placing a row of shots lined up on the table before you. Plucking a bill from your back pocket, you paid the handsome guy and looked back over at Yunho. You hated to admit it but San was right. The second he glanced back at you, the girl and the whole damn bar seemed to disappear. Only you were in his line of vision.

Grabbing a shot, you slammed it back, enjoying the warmth as it coated your throat. And then another. And another, until every nerve in your body burned deliciously. A thrill rippled through you. Shooting Yunho a challenge, you watched as his brow furrowed slightly, as though contemplating a challenge. Then his smile turned devious and he motioned to the girl to come closer.

Fuck. You grabbed one more shot, not caring that the music had changed to a more energetic song. Slamming the glass onto the table, you marched towards the pair, who had taken residence on the couch against the wall, tucked into the far back corner of the place.

The crowd moved with the beat and bodies shook and ground into each other as you pressed through, your only goal being Yunho and what you might do. Punch him in the face, maybe. Or kiss that obnoxious grin right off his full mouth. Maybe a mix of both, since you weren't sure which emotion was stronger - hatred or desire.

His hands caressed the girl's neck, cradling her face. He whispered something into her ear and she let out a loud laugh. Nausea and desire struck you hard. Without slowing down or stopping to think, you latched onto his arm, yanking him up, and glaring hard into his pretty face.

"I'm sorry but I'm stealing my friend back," you stated. The girl glared at you, about to speak, but you yanked again. This time, he came willingly, stumbling alongside as he was pulled through the throng of bodies.

"Not enjoying the view anymore?" Yunho mused. When you didn't respond he yanked, grabbing you around the waist. You lost balance, letting out a surprised squeak, but he caught you, spinning and pushing your back to the wall. His arms trapped you, pressing along your sides as he caged you in. Leaning down, he whispered into your ear, his breath hot. "Or did you think it was going somewhere?"

You couldn't suppress the shudder that rolled down your spine as his low, suggestive tone caressed you, lighting every nerve ending aflame. His hand cupped the side of your cheek, his touch warm and demanding.

"Why?" you gasped out, swallowing the fear and frustration that crawled up your throat. "Why does she get all that and not me?"

"You want me too?" he quipped, his gaze dragging over your face and settling on your eyes. "Are you sure, Y/N, or are you drunk?"

You had never felt more sure of anything in your entire life. Staring deeply into his eyes, your hands fisted the fabric of his jacket, and you lifted yourself up onto your tiptoes, drawing your face closer to him, pausing an inch away from his mouth, waiting.

"Stop me now if I'm making a huge mistake," you whispered, hoping his mouth would connect to yours.

A grin, a flash of pearly whites, and the lightest of laughs were the only things you got in response. No warning and no stopping, you found your lips smashed against his, warm and full. His tongue ran over the seam of your mouth, teasing a moan. Your eyes slid shut as your senses were overpowered, hands desperately grabbing whatever you could.

Your head was swimming with thoughts of Yunho and only Yunho, as his fingers ran through your hair and pulled your body close. Yunho made sure that there wasn't a centimeter between you both, kissing and touching and nibbling and grinding his body against yours, and your arms curled around him like you never wanted him to move away. And in some way you really didn't—you never wanted this moment to end.

As if hearing this thought, Yunho pulled back, keeping your hips pressed together with one hand but putting distance between the rest of your bodies, keeping his hands away from your waist even though it had just been groping at you moments before. You were panting hard and your cheeks were flushed red, and you felt like your body was burning up with arousal and embarrassment and guilt and desire. Yunho was staring down at you, face as bright red as yours probably was, panting and out of breath and so sexy. Your eyes darted down, to the clear bulge in his slacks, then darted back up again, not knowing how Yunho would take you just blatantly staring. Yunho leaned in close so his forehead was against yours, bringing up his hands to cradle your face in them gently.

"Get a fucking room," you heard one of your friends say from somewhere behind you, but you didn't care because right now it was just you and Yunho, so close and yet still too far. He looked down at your mouth, his cheeks blushing brighter pink, and you pucker your lips a little just because you were a tease, and he ran his thumb over your lower lip.

Okay you were drunk. Very drunk.

"Sooo..." you breathed out, trying to stand tall and look Yunho in the eyes. He smiled that dumb toothy grin, which caused the wrinkles that you found so cute and sexy to show, and tilted his head slightly.

"Sooo..." He responded, his voice deeper than usual. There was a long pause where you both just looked at each other, lost in your thoughts and his gaze.

"Yunho, just take Y/N home, will ya?" Hongjoong said, groaning while passing by and clapping him on the shoulder. "Fuck the alcohol out of your system or something. You both have been looking at each other the whole evening! We get it, you want to go fuck! Go!"

With his final word, Hongjoong gave Yunho a little shove in your direction, and as if in slow motion your gazes met and it was like time had stopped for you. Before you knew it, his hand was pressed against your back, the other taking a hold of your hand, and he was leading you off and out the bar and into the backseat of a taxi.

When the car pulled away from the curb, you had to snap back to reality to tell the driver your address, and then Yunho grabbed you by the chin to tilt your head back toward him. When you saw the lust in his eyes, you gasped softly, your stomach immediately erupting into butterflies and a wet feeling appearing down below. 

"Yunho..." you breathed out shakily, a hint of a whine in your tone, and your lips parted, showing that pretty tongue to him once more. Yunho smirked a bit, but then moved forward and bit on your tongue softly. His lips were soft, but demanding, and he guided you so he could restrain your wrists to your lap, so when he kissed you it was hot and full of heat. You pressed up close into his chest, and Yunho slowly released his grip to hold onto your jaw, the kiss starting to move slower and more sensually. You slid a hand up his chest, pressing under his jacket to feel him. Yunho is muscular and lean; tall with broad shoulders and a muscular back. His ass is to die for, and his thighs and calves are so deliciously thick, and all you want to do is rub your hands over him and suck on his skin.

Finally the taxi slowed to a stop, pulling up to your apartment. You both stumbled out of the car, you paying the man while Yunho held the car door open for you. Then you were stumbling up the steps and into the lobby of the building. You didn't let Yunho go and Yunho didn't let you go, and then finally, finally, finally the apartment door closed behind the both of you and Yunho pinned you to the back of the door, grabbing your thighs and pressing between them.

The kisses were hard and fast, his tongue in your mouth exploring and licking at your teeth, tongue and lips. You grabbed the lapel of his jacket with one hand, the other diving into his hair and massaging his scalp, while walking backwards towards your bedroom. As you entered through the door you shoved Yunho's jacket off his broad, smooth shoulders, feeling up the lean muscle.

You found yourself falling backwards onto your bed, but that was okay because that was exactly where you wanted to be right then. You slid back onto your elbows while Yunho crawled up the length of your legs, his body a delicious line of lean muscle that you wanted to have all to yourself.

"God, I could fuck you so good..." Yunho mumbled as he leaned forward, capturing your lips in another kiss and you mewled needily into his mouth, grinding your hips up into his. "Gonna fuck you so good until the only name you can remember is mine."

"Fuck," you whined, head tossed to the side to bare your throat to him.

Yunho's hand trailed up your bare thigh, pushing your skirt up to pool at your hips. He stopped to look down at you, your hands pushing his shirt up and running over his torso. "No panties and your pussy shaven?" he said slowly with a soft moan of your name. "Fuck...you are going to ruin me tonight, aren't you baby?"

"Just get naked, Jeong," you groaned, your legs parting of their own accord. He chuckled in return and sat back on his heels to strip out of his clothes.

You know that tomorrow things would be back to the way they were—you and Yunho sniping at each other whenever given the opportunity, making mean and bitchy comments to each other when in front of everyone, all the while with an intense sexual attraction and deep feelings. But tonight...tonight was a free-for-all, where the air between you both is charged with drunken passion and sexual frustration. You always secretly wanted to fuck each others brains out but would never admit it to anybody (no matter how obvious it was to your friends). Tonight, you wouldn't regret anything. Tonight, it was just you and Yunho, and his perfect mouth on your thighs.

"Fuck," you moaned as his teeth sank into your thigh, giving a harsh suck so that his mark was left. "Guess I won't be wearing skirts and shorts anytime soon..." You didn't really mean that because god did you want everyone to see the marks he left on you.

"Guess not," Yunho growled back as he left a few more hickeys along the inside of your thighs, enjoying how you squirmed under him and moaned his name. His hands trailed up your body under your top, his long fingers touching everywhere and finding your breasts. "No bra either? God Y/N, you planned on this happening."

"Maybe I did," you murmured back, opening your eyes to look down at your body and lock gazes with him. "Maybe I wanted you. Maybe I always have."

"Fuck," came the breathy whine before he was attacking your lips, and your shirt was being pulled over your head. With your clothes practically discarded in an instant, Yunho attacked your bare torso, kissing and licking and sucking his way down. He lavished your breasts with attention, swirling the pert nub of your nipples between his lips and letting it go with a small pop, moving to the other when he deemed it had enough attention. When he let this nipple free, a long stream of spit connected his tongue to the sensitive nub, and you watched the drool fall onto your skin with an aroused shiver.

"I thought you hated me," Yunho began in between licks along your lower stomach. "That I hated you."

"Never," you moaned in response, curling one hand into his hair. "You're just so damn infuriating sometimes."

"So are you," was all Yunho mumbled before he attached his mouth to your cunt. His tongue swiped across your outer folds first, flattening out against the length, then ran his tongue up and down the slit, dipping just barely past the entrance to your core. The little jolts and tremors coursing through your body, combined with your choked moans and high pitched whines were absolute perfection to his ears, and Yunho buried his face as deep as he could. It was intoxicating, the taste of your pussy, sweet and slick with your arousal, and he practically salivated into it like a starving man. Your whole body was flush and warm against his mouth, and he savored the taste of you on his tongue as he ate you like a fucking buffet.

And honestly Yunho was eating you better than anybody had ever before. His tongue was flicking against you, nose pressing right into the spot that made you absolutely go fucking crazy. You squirmed and mewled loudly, fingers tangled in his soft fluffy hair, and you let your legs curl up and around his wide and firm shoulders, bucking your hips up against his face.

"God, please," you whined, voice tapering off into a soft moan at the end as Yunho ate your sopping pussy like there's no tomorrow. You had forgotten what pleasure even felt like until then. His long fingers circled your wet pussy hole, pushing their way past your folds to massage against the taut muscle with every dip of his mouth. Your legs curled tightly around his neck, not choking, but trapping Yunho right where he was in place. 

"Yes! God, Yunho, yes!" Your back arched, eyes closed and a low whine in your throat, your body quickly coming to the point of no return. You ground your hips forward, rutting against his mouth with fervent enthusiasm, but you were pulled from that moment of pure bliss when he slipped a long finger into you and pumped the digit back and forth. Yunho let his gaze travel over your body, over your soft form and watch the way the curves moved when he shifted or pressed in certain spots.

His name slipped through your lips in a whisper, his fingers pausing mid thrust. Your hand gripped his forearm as your whole body tightened, your pussy quivering around his finger. A little trickle of liquid seeped past his finger and onto the sheets under you, your insides trembling as you came from Yunho's fingers and mouth. The man kept moving his hand through the aftershocks, allowing the moment of bliss to be drawn out as long as possible, watching how you continued to gasp and whimper as you came.

"There you go," he whispered encouragingly, his eyes still roaming up and down the length of your naked figure. "Mm, such a beautiful thing, cumming just from the press of my lips and tongue." He smiled and leaned back down to pepper your belly with small kisses, his free hand roaming over the tops of your thighs to cup your bottom in a small squeeze.

"Yunho, I need you, please," you whined, batting your eyes as you looked down your naked chest to where the tall man was laid in the vee of your thighs. "Please?"

Yunho hesitated, still for a moment before looking up from between your thighs to where you laid propped up on your elbows. "Do you have any condoms?" he asked, his thumb running gently back and forth over the delicate skin of your lower tummy.

Your stomach flipped slightly from the intimate contact, a smile crossing over your face at his care. You turned, fumbled for the nightstand and pulled it out, dropping a wrapped package right next to him, earning a little smile from Yunho. The latex was pulled over Yunho's considerable girth, the latex slipping easily down his long shaft, and he spread his body between your open thighs once the little package had been tossed away.

"God, we should have done this earlier," Yunho whispered against the juncture between your neck and shoulder, giving the area a gentle nibble, then pressed his tip to your wet slit.

Your whole body tensed, nerves beginning to tighten again at the feeling of his dick near your sopping pussy. And when Yunho was finally settled in the hilt, filling you to the brim, you let out a squeak at how absolutely large he was, the stretch and burn from the stretch making you even more drenched than before.

And when he pulled out, you felt so empty, before Yunho was pushing right back into you, filling you all over again, his breath hitching just the slightest bit at the way you sucked him in.

Your mouth opened wide in a soundless gasp, as your heart pounded loudly and wildly, a whine escaping when Yunho grinded his hips down and slowly, rubbed up and against all of your walls and nerve endings and you knew he felt good, so good.

"C'mon pretty girl," Yunho cooed as your breaths and moans started to pick up, speeding up the pace, moving from a gentle slow drag of the hips to deep, quick pounding thrusts.

"More," you breathed, reaching out to grab his hand. You needed something to cling to; something to focus on and feel, so your hand would lock onto Yunho's forearm as his cock fucked you deeper, faster. "D-don't stop," you pleaded in a low whimper. "Don't stop fucking me...please."

The pace became even more erratic and punishing, as the both of you got closer and closer to release. His large hand slipped down to palm your breast, a jolt going through your body as his thick fingers kneaded into the sensitive flesh. Every press was followed with his hips pumping harder, working against each of your muscles as his length slid in and out. His hand trailed down further to rub at the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, his hand slipping with how soaked you were.

"So close…” you moaned.

Yunho picked up his pace again, slapping his balls against your plump ass everytime he sank inside of you. Your cries got higher in pitch and your back arched upwards, fingers gripping his forearms again.

"C'mon Y/N," Yunho encouraged again, panting from above you. His length pounded in and out, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum. Fucking cum."

You squeezed around him tightly, his pace and force not ceasing in any manner, and your hips twitched a bit, getting closer and closer. You practically sobbed as your climax grew closer and closer, almost painful and too sensitive.

And finally, finally the release. Your eyes shut tightly and your hips stuttered. Your back arched, almost lifting you completely off the bed, and your cries were muffled by Yunho's tongue forcing its way into your mouth. And you gushed all over Yunho, pussy pulsing rapidly as you felt Yunho fill the condom at the same time.

Your chest is heaving and sweat is dripping down your forehead and into your eyes. Your eyes are lidded as Yunho pants quietly over you, leaning up onto his palms above your naked body. Your muscles throb and pulse from the orgasm you and him just shared, and your hands rest on Yunho's firm sides, letting him bask in his moment of pride and post orgasmic bliss.

Finally he slipped out and fell to the bed beside you, pulling the used and tied condom off, tossing it into the wastebasket, then rolled over towards you and kissed your bare shoulder gently. "Best sex I've ever had," he admits honestly.

"Same," you breathed out in agreement, snuggling into his body. You close your eyes for a moment and bask in his warmth, letting yourself have this moment of complete and utter domestic bliss with Yunho.

When tomorrow comes, and hopefully you were not suffering from a hangover, you and Yunho would talk about what this meant between the both of you. Until then, however, sleep was what you needed most and so you allowed yourself to relax. Yunho's arm wrapped itself around you to pull your body into the line of his own, your back pressed flush against his warm chest, and you and him drifted off, clinging close together.

You blinked as the blinding sun spilled through the gaps in your blinds, the warmth waking you up slowly. It had been awhile since you woke up this slowly and naturally, not because of a loud alarm. What made it better was the strong arm curled around you, and the hard abs pressed into your side.

Oh yes, Yunho had definitely fallen into bed with you last night, after that sexy taxi ride, and hot steamy sex. You never had a night so good as the night you had with Yunho. In a matter of seconds it was like a rush of memories and your face grew red at the mere thought of them. You tried shifting your hips, to no avail. Well you guess last night's activities did a number on you. Yunho probably too, and sure enough you heard a slight groan behind you.

Your stomach flipped with excitement as he started stirring from his sleep, and it was at this moment you realized that you probably looked like an utter mess. Yet, your thoughts stopped as soon as he nuzzled your neck gently and held you a little bit tighter, keeping you firmly in place. You really wanted to turn and look, to stare into his beautiful face, and soak in his handsome looks but it seemed he wasn't ready to give up on cuddles quite yet, and who were you to refuse this man some cuddling?

It was rather comforting to hear Yunho's breathing pick up to show that he was awake. "Did last night really happen?"

Yunho's morning voice was like sex, something you didn't think you'd get so aroused by but damn did it affect you. You could listen to him talk like that forever and it would never get old. 

"It did." You had no idea why, but your fingers were instantly drifting over his arm, rubbing gently against the firm muscles. His hold around you was soft but firm and strong, like you would stay with him all morning. Maybe you should have gotten up, maybe you should have suggested breakfast or something but honestly the thought of moving from the bed and losing this intimate contact sounded painful.

"We can talk later," he whispered against your skin, his morning stubble scratchy against your neck. Your back was pressed against his toned torso, your bare skin so warm and supple. "I just wanna stay here for a bit."

"Me too," you admit to him softly, shifting slightly closer as if that was even possible. His soft hair tickled your shoulder, and the little puffs of air brushing over your skin gave a soft chill of pleasure.

This felt right, all of this. As scary as that felt to admit and even consider. But for the time being, you really couldn't complain at all. You just wanted a lazy morning cuddling with a hot man that gave you the greatest night of your life last night, and would be more than happy to give you that again anytime. You would be crazy not to want to cuddle with this man in bed right now.

For now, you and Yunho could sleepily cuddle in bed, without thinking of what this meant for the two of you, because this could end so easily or maybe it will finally end up becoming something.

However, while both your brains would love to let you enjoy this quiet peaceful bliss, you heard the front door slammed shut and heard Wooyoung's voice in the hall. "YUNHO GET YOUR DICK OUT OF Y/N SO YOU BOTH CAN EAT BRUNCH AT THE DINER. IT IS HALF PAST NOON! SO SAY GOODBYE TO Y/N'S PUSSY AND HURRY UP, JEONG! TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE! OUR TAB IS ALREADY OPEN!"

"GOD, SHUT THE FUCK UP WOOYOUNG," both you and Yunho yell, turning beet red. 

You are not looking forward to a full day of teasing from everyone. You turn to Yunho, who was already getting out of your bed. "Can we talk before we head out to meet up with everyone?"

"Yeah, just a little bit, before Wooyoung makes another one of those sex jokes about my dick that are terrible and not funny," Yunho grabs his boxers and slides them on. You stare at him in amusement, seeing he didn't mind being naked, like at all. It was refreshing.

"Look, about last nightㅡ"

Yunho smiles softly at you and he sits back down on the edge of your bed. "Don't worry, it doesn't have to be anything big or anything if you don't want it to, you know. We can still be friends or enemies or whatever and still have sex if that's what you want."

"Yeah?" you ask as he puts a strand of hair behind your ear, your face burning red and your heart fluttering.

"Well, I mean, I enjoyed the fuck out of last night and I would be really happy if it wasn't a one time deal," Yunho smiles when you scoot closer and turn on your side to be able to lay on his leg and wrap your arms around his waist. He even kisses your forehead.

"Me too. Let's just see what happens, no pressure or commitment, okay? If either of," you gesture with your finger between your bodies, "are feeling weird, just say something and we’ll talk, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing," Yunho answers you, his voice almost tender, something you hadn't heard before last night. It was different. He gives you another little squeeze, letting you nestle into his warm lap.

The moment was over a little sooner than you expected.

"YUNHO! Y/N! FOR THE LAST TIME IF YOU DON'T HURRY UP I WILL COME INTO THE ROOM AND DRAG YOU OUT. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE NAKED. GET THE FUCK OUT OF THAT ROOM."

Yunho gets off the bed and puts on his t-shirt, groaning. "We're coming. God, could you just shut the fuck up?"

He shakes his head and holds out his hand to you, helping you out of the bed. His gaze flickers downwards as your legs stretch and show off the marks that he placed all along the tops of your thighs; what were supposed to be easy hickeys turned into harsh bites and small bruises that stood out against your delicate skin.

"What are you staring at, Jeong?"

"Just your pretty legs and beautiful hickeys all over them," he grins and allows you to grab some clothes.

"Shut up," you blush, knowing that not even last night and your hot makeout session would prepare you for what would come ahead now.

So much for the enemy line you and Yunho created between the two of you.

You met up with the rest of your friends at the usual diner that you and your friends always went to. It had been a good twenty minutes and no one said a word to you or Yunho. However, San looked way too satisfied and Seonghwa just kept a smug and knowing look the entire time you all had brunch.

"Sooooooo..." Mingi finally decided to talk, everyone going silent when he leaned in. "Had fun last night, Yunho?"

"They most likely did," Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows and stuffed a hashbrown in his mouth. "They were still in the bedroom when I barged into the apartment this morning."

"I'm going to change the code to my door so you can't get in, fucker," you stuck your tongue out and went back to your food. "Okay, look. I didn't mean to go home with Yunho last night. It just happened!"

Hongjoong laughed. "Uh huh, of course. It 'just happened.'"

Yunho shot you a teasing look, but then cleared his throat, grabbing all the attention. "Well, you guys wanna know what else just happened last night?"

You winced. "Yunho, don’t!"

"Y/N was definitely expecting something last night." Yunho continues anyways. "No panties and bra—"

You clasped a hand over his mouth, cheeks flushing red. "No one needs to know!"

Jongho raised his eyebrows. "Well damn. But really it's no surprise you got dicked down by Yunho."

San shook his head. "Man, now I need to find someone to hook up with. This is not fair."

Seonghwa chuckled. "Same. Yunho can't be the only one getting pussy."

"You got any female friends, Y/N?" Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows as you picked a strawberry off of his pancake and ate it. "Got any friends looking for a dick appointment? I am single."

You groaned as your other friends started looking around their table for the single friends you might have. "Ugh, okay. Can we please, PLEASE just shut up about everything that happened last night and forget about it? Okay. Whatever happened, happened. It's over."

Everyone stared at Yunho curiously when he said, "Oh no. It definitely did not happen."

Your cheeks burned. "Don't be such a dick. God."

You felt a hand rub over the marks left from his mouth against your inner thighs, a gentle smile appearing on his face. Thank god that you weren't wearing anything short because everyone would certainly catch a glance of his claim all over your soft and plush legs.

"He's your dick, huh?" Yeosang's coy voice picked up in the conversation.

"Lucky, lucky," Mingi wiggled his eyebrows.

Seonghwa started cracking up. "To think only a few hours ago you were fucking a guy you pretended to hate."

"He's growing on her," Hongjoong raised his eyebrows and met your eyes, a little mischievous smile on his face. "Admit it Y/N, you like the shit he pulls on you."

You didn't answer, opting for another strawberry to distract your mouth and brain. Yunho didn't help your case when the hand that was on your thigh, a reminder of exactly what he was capable of doing with his fingers, gripped at your soft flesh possessively.

"GOD. JUST MARRY ALREADY." Jongho groans loudly, hearing you squeak quietly.

"Have kids or something." San chortled.

The others, sans Yunho of course, start agreeing as they watch you and Yunho trade looks, catching you smile just the slightest and him gazing intently at your pretty lips. Wooyoung, tired of everyone in his immediate proximity, groaned at the ceiling.

"JUST ADMIT YOU BOTH LIKE EACH OTHER OR FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, PUT A RING ON THAT BITCH, YUNHO," Wooyoung stares at Yunho in disbelief, feeling a need to laugh hysterically. "We're all sick of watching the love-hate thing between you two."

Everyone burst into agreement.

Yunho shrugs casually. "Alright, we have our first date and we plan to get married. That satisfies you? Everyone is sick and tired of the back and forth fighting right?"

You rolled your eyes at him, reaching across the table to pat his arm softly and soothingly. "Thanks, honey. They definitely bought that."

He grinned. "I'll buy your love."

Hongjoong scoffed as everyone looked like they were gearing up to slap the two of you. "We see right through that crap. We might be crazy, but we ain't that fucked up in the head not to recognize bullshit. Now go away, you two."

All seven of them shoved the two of you together, out the door of the diner, with smiles on their faces and shouting some explicit words.

You stood with Yunho beside your car. "They're batshit insane."

"Isn't that why we love them?" He raised an eyebrow as you pretended to think about it. He laughs. "You're a pain in my ass sometimes."

"You're a pain in my ass too."

"Ha...Yunho," you mumbled his name, grasping his wet back as he held you against the tiles, mouth attaching to the marks on your neck as the steaming shower cascaded down on both of you. The tiles were icy against your back, water pelting down on you, steam heavy in the room. Yunho couldn't stop for more than a second, couldn't breathe. Everything that came out of his mouth was praise to how much you fit him so perfectly; you squeezed him like no one else could ever have, and the way he touched you made you lightheaded, unable to think of anyone else, ever. "Oh god..."

Your legs were wrapped around his hips, your toes flexing as the shower water rained down over him, his hands holding your thighs, fingertips sinking in your plush, plump skin. It has been months now, close to two or three, since Yunho and you have been sleeping together. To be completely honest, it wasn't that simple either; when it happened between the both of you it was never 'sleeping together' and everything about it was very complicated.

Sometimes, it was fucking, sometimes it was love making. Sometimes it was slow and sensual while other times were hard, fast and rough. Sometimes it was just sex where you leave each other afterwards. Other times it was staying together and sleeping curled into the sheets. Everything that had to do with what you had going on with Yunho was complicated and difficult.

"Oh my God..." His cock kept diving into you, meeting your desperate whines as your hands tightened around his strong biceps, listening to the short stuttered breath as your thighs quivered, tightening around him. Yunho swore and dropped his face into your throat, a moan pressing to your collarbone when he took another thrust. You writhed on the spot as his hand tightened at your thigh and around the curve of your back. "Yunho."

"Fuck Y/N..." Yunho moaned against your neck. “Say my name again, like that. Goddamn you look so fucking pretty with my dick inside of you. Always looks so pretty on my cock. Made for my dick." His forehead dragged against yours, nipping at your bottom lip. "Love you like this. Begging, aching, beautiful...so perfect for me..." His voice came out, strangled and raw, leaving you trembling and moaning as the sounds he pushed out of your throat, swallowing them with sloppy and heavy kisses.

The warm shower water still beat against you, trickling around your bodies and spilling over to the bathroom floor, the stall all humid. His large and massive body hovered over you, hands braced over your back and leg, fingers leaving searing patterns against you. The touches, kisses, sounds, the heat in the humid bathroom. It had you gasping his name, higher, deeper and louder.

God. How fucking had you never let this happen before? Let him bring you apart piece by piece in every way, watch him work you for hours like a canvas to his finger tips, show him every part of you that no one else has been allowed to see?

Now you had him all to yourself. Every ounce. Every inch.

And boy, were you insatiable.

"Do you hear how gorgeous you sound?" he praised hoarsely. Yunho groaned at the filthy sound of his wet, throbbing and long cock pushing its way in your pussy.

"Yes, Yunho," the look of pure satisfaction and power spread on his handsome face as you answered him with breathlessness and surrender had you clawing at his back. You squeezed his shoulders and ground your teeth. "Oh fuck, Yunho...I can't...I don't thinkㅡ"

He bucked his hips into your clenching hole harder.

"Damn Y/N," His breath brushed the shell of your ear. His lips kissed you hungrily, passionately, moving as roughly as his thrusts, slick with water. "I won't ever get tired of this, ever."

"Me neither," you mewled against his swollen lips, face flushing red as he ground into you, throwing his hips faster, harder, leaving you crying out as you clutched around him, arching into him. "Yes, oh fuck! Yes!"

The constant drag and pull on his dick sent your body and mind soaring to the heavens, making you mewl and call his name in a needy voice. It was more than a simple tug and release, more than fucking on occasion, a certain intimacy you only shared. "Y/N. I want this everyday. Just you, right here, getting fucked on my dick, falling apart on me. Over and over again."

"Me...too. Oh my god," Your lips parted with another loud, lustful cry of his name, pleasure swelling throughout your entire body. Yunho moaned a stream of explicit words, his brow furrowed and his hands shaking a little bit against your skin. The roll of his hips lost some of its rhythm, coming faster, the slap of wet skin against your thighs even louder as his heavy and thick cock abused your entrance. "More. Oh. OH, FUCK YES!"

His eyes closed as his dick pushed its way deeper into you with every shove. "So fucking close," Yunho grunts, your back and hips slapping against the wall behind you as his body pushed you against it, pinning you on his hard length. "Let go, baby, cum all over my dick."

"Yunho, fuck! Don't stop, Yunho, ohㅡ" You whine, tightening and tensing under him, "Don't stop. Fuck, I'm going toㅡ"

"Cum for me baby, that's it, cum for me," the guttural noises rolling off his tongue only spur you on further, nails digging into his back and your thighs trembling.

It takes a few more long and powerful thrusts before you find yourself yelling his name, coming on his dick hard. His rough growls of curses and your name turn breathless, hips twitching as his cock buried deep inside of you, cum shooting into you. Yunho's head drops into the curve of your shoulder.

You slump a little, finding no energy to keep your limbs taut anymore as he slips from your pussy, slowly lowering you back onto the shower floor. As Yunho catches his breath and releases the leg you were hanging onto him by, your heart still pounds so rapidly that it leaves you struggling to stand up right, slumping against his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Yunho rasped, smoothing some wet hair from the front of your flushed, warm face and pecking a gentle kiss against the corner of your mouth. You grin a little and lean into him, hands sliding against his broad and soaked chest, slick with water. "Take your time. Just try not to pass out. Not that I won't catch you, but we will probably both slip and hit our heads. Then, we both will be in the hospital."

You laugh as he turns off the water to the shower, stretching to reach over you for two towels he put on the shelf to hang, handing one to you. After wrapping the fluffy cloth around your cold, drenched body, you step closer to him, allowing him to press a kiss to your forehead. "Well, I better be careful then."

He lets out a laugh as he picks you up in his arms and wanders into his bedroom. The afternoon sunlight pours through the partially drawn curtains, washing over the bed. Yunho dumps you unceremoniously into the thick, fluffy comforter. You smile teasingly and fall onto the mess of pillows and blankets, damp towels dropping carelessly aside as you relax back into his sheets. He crawls towards you, smiling the slightest as he kisses your wet, tangled hair. "That was good, though, huh? Not gonna deny that it wasn't?"

"I don't remember. Was someone pounding me against the shower tiles like the fucking world was ending? Did I enjoy it at the very least?" You snuggled against his naked chest as he chuckled and settled into the blanket beside you. "Not gonna lie, but a girl could really get used to being taken care of by a man who fucks like he means it."

"Someone who also can't get enough of your delicious ass pussy, huh?" He grinned, sliding an arm around your waist and shifting to rest his cheek against the top of your hair, rubbing at your wet strands. You giggle and swat at his side, drawing him closer against you, tangling your bare legs. "You'll just have to take what's yours. So a daily request for your favorite big dick is not that bad."

"Daily, huh? I'm lucky," you glance at him curiously as he rubs a thumb against the smoothness of your soft skin. "But seriously, you'd actually want this to be a permanent thing between us?"

Yunho stared intently. "Do you just want it to be sex or something more? I mean, what are we even, at the moment? We do more than fuck and leave, right?"

Your hand rubbed at his skin absent minded, thumb circling a light mark left behind from you earlier. "We do more than fuck and leave, yeah… What should we call what's going on between us, really?" You pondered for a bit, sitting up a little more.

"How does..." Yunho begins, sighing softly, a small and sweet smile pulling on his face. "Getting married and having kids like the guys suggested sound?"

You grinned as his deep voice purred against you. "Nah, not ready for that step yet."

"Wanna move in?" He asked, sounding surprisingly sincere. "Become my live-in girlfriend?"

There's the briefest pause, but Yunho's gaze never falters. He watches the emotions that flicker across your face, the excitement, surprise, happiness and affection all cross your features. "Yeah? Really? Girlfriend?"

"Of course," he nods slowly, not needing a single second to think about his decision. Yunho squeezes you a little tighter, resting his chin against the top of your head and kissing it lightly. "I'm not in it for just the sex. I genuinely...I really, like you."

"Yeah...I like you too." You pushed against his bare chest. He laughed, burying his face in the crook of your throat. "Only a little bit."

"A little bit," Yunho said, his hot breath ghosting along your collarbone, pushing your head back to place kisses along your neck. "Just a little bit? What about… a lot bit, maybe?"

His large palm stroked down your shoulder, over your arm, grabbing your hand and moving it between his legs. A guttural moan leaving you both as his fingers dance around your wet slit.

"Always fucking ready, babygirl?" Yunho smirked, watching your teeth graze against your bottom lip, before sliding his length through your slick.

"Ready whenever you are."

[elegantlyeva]

can you do a spencer and hot chocolate and maybe hes protective of her? or jealous

DAY THREE

Hot Cocoa

Summary: Spencer’s embarrassed after getting jealous.

Word Count: 0.4K 

Realistically, Spencer knew the jealousy that burned inside him was unfair to you. You had been nothing but perfect since the two of you got together two months ago.

You were beyond understanding when he showed up late to one too many dates due to work, reassuring him that it sucked but wasn’t his fault.

You never asked him to shut up, even when he knew he was talking too much.

You hadn’t been repulsed when he asked you to stay over at his apartment for the first time either, so why was he getting worked up over your co-worker buying you a hot chocolate?

It was stupid, and he mentally facepalmed. Here you were, draped across his lap, playing with the end of his sweater—a loose string he hadn’t pulled out yet—and he was worried over a drink.

As if sensing his thoughts (and maybe you did), you tapped his jaw with two fingers. “You okay? You’ve hardly spoken since you picked me up from work.”

He hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t say much else until he felt you shift to sit upright, causing him to frown.

“Spencer?” Your voice sounded worried, and he hated that it was his fault.

Clearing his throat, “Uh, yeah. I’m fine, sorry. Long day.”

You nodded, not totally convinced but not wanting to pry either. You took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and the act alone had him speaking up.

“Are you hungry? Better yet, thirsty? I can make you something,” he offered, though he didn’t specify what.

“Oh. I’m okay...” you trailed off, realizing he was already up and across the room. You furrowed your brows, mumbling under your breath, “Never mind.”

Not even five minutes later, Spencer was ushering you into the kitchen to sit at his counter, handing you a mug of hot cocoa.

The smell filled your senses, and the face you made when you took a sip had him relaxing slightly.

“It’s good, right? I made it the way you like it. I think. Although, maybe you like the way Ryan makes it more,” he said, scowling at the mention of the man’s name.

You gave him a knowing smile. “Spence...”

He shook his head. “No, no, I know it’s dumb. I know. But he was so... I don’t know. Not me.” Watching you frown, he sighed. “I’m not trying to be self-deprecating, I just—”

“No, you’re right. You’re nothing like him.” At his crestfallen look, you clarified, “Which is a really good thing. The best thing, actually. I might rip my hair out if you were anything like him. I’ve never met a man so obsessed with himself that he didn’t even care that he spilled the hot chocolate on the floor.”

When he sort of almost-smiled, you continued, “Not to mention he added way too many marshmallows. I mean, I couldn’t even taste the hot chocolate. Didn’t you notice I went inside your car empty-handed?”

“You threw it out.” It wasn’t a question. Spencer groaned, the tips of his ears turning pink, and took the mug from your hands to place it on the counter before wrapping his arms around you.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I reacted like that.” He mumbled.

“No apology needed. I’m happy to know you like me so much that you can’t even stand another guy giving me hot chocolate.”

“Don’t say it like that. He was flirting, I could tell.”

“Oh, you could tell?”

“Mannerisms.”

He squeezed you tighter when he heard you laugh.

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part2. eavesdropping

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: after dinner with Vi you were ready to sleep till next day, but something weird pulled you back from sleep. were those moans…?

・❥・ genre: smut + grumpy x sunshine

・❥・ word count: 1.3k

✎ warnings: 18+, smut, dom!vi, swearing, teasing

MINORS DNI!

RIDE ON ME masterlist

it was a strange evening, Vi wasn't like others you've met before. usually, you have a good effect on people - they gravitate towards you - but in this situation, the person simply distanced themselves. 

“that's fine, I'll have plenty of opportunities to show her what she's missing,” - you thought.

at first, you didn’t mind that your roommate might not be very talkative, but Vi's behavior felt like a challenge. now, all you could think about was how to get her attention and make her interested in talking to you. after a relaxing evening shower that calmed your nerves, you fell asleep with thoughts of the next day. new acquaintances, university, classes - it was all so exciting and unfamiliar that you couldn't wait for tomorrow to finally arrive.

you were pulled out of your sweet, deep sleep by strange sounds. after a few moments, you realized they were... moans? "no way, maybe Vi is feeling unwell?" you got up from your bed, threw on a robe to avoid going out naked, put on your slippers, and opened the door to the hallway. the moment you did it, you could clearly hear the moans, but the person making them wasn't unwell…on the contrary. staying near your door, you realized that those sounds didn't belong to Vi, her voice was much lower than this half-squeak.

“yes, Vi, oh God! harder!”- a cry mixed with a moan came through more clearly.

"are you fucking kidding me?" - you thought to yourself- "is my neighbor really fucking with someone right behind those doors?"

“oh God, Vi, don't stop, I'm so close!” - "disgusting," - you thought, but you didn't leave. you stayed, listening for what would happen next. could it be that you might hear Vi...

and you weren't wrong. just a second after you had that thought, you heard her voice coming from the room - "yes, baby, come for me."

a shiver ran down your spine, and you felt a tugging sensation in your lower belly. frozen in place, you listened even more intently. the thought of Vi bringing pleasure to the girl in the room made something snap inside you. was it anger or jealousy?

“will daddy let me come?” - you heard from the room. - "what a repulsive voice you have," - you thought.

“yes, just like that, OH GOD!” - the girl kept shouting. "is she trying to impress or is she really feeling that good?"- your thought was cut off by the girl's squeal, which most likely marked the end of her “performance”. "finally," - you rolled your eyes. yep, it was jealousy.

for a few minutes, the room fell silent, and you could tell the figures were moving but couldn't make out what was happening. suddenly, the doorknob turned, and in a panic, you dashed back into your room, closing the door as quickly as possible, staying right behind it.

“will you call me tomorrow, sweetheart?” - said the girl who had been squeaking like she was being cut just a few minutes ago.

“goodnight, Kate,” - after those words, the door closed. not wanting to stand by your door any longer, you started sneaking back to your bed, but something caught your leg, and with a loud crash, you fell.

“fuck!” 

the corridor suddenly fell silent - "cupcake, is that you?" - Vi's voice was heard from the hallway. 

"should I answer or...?" – “I already heard you fall” - "good for you, Vi, and I heard you fucking your girlfriend." 

you decided not to play hide-and-seek any longer and finally opened the door. Vi was standing in front of you, and to be honest, she looked really hot, her hair messy, a bit of redness on her cheeks from... physical activity, wearing boxers and a sports bra that perfectly showed off her abs. 

“you know, it's rude to eavesdrop,” - Vi crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the wall next to your room. 

“and you know, your girl squeals like she's being murdered?”- you blurted out unexpectedly, then immediately bit your tongue. 

Vi started laughing loudly, and you were a bit confused about what to do. 

“yeah, Kate has that in her, she doesn't like holding back,” - Vi said through her laughter. 

“first of all, ew. second of all, keep the details of your sex life with... your Kate to yourself,” - you said the last part with personal disdain. 

Vi kept laughing, clearly enjoying your reaction – “she's not mine and she's not a girlfriend. we just fuck together sometimes.” 

something inside you felt relieved, but you tried not to pay attention to it. 

“whatever, next time, tell your... lover to keep it down. and honestly, no one screams like that. I think she's just trying to impress you,” - the last words were unnecessary, but you wanted to get under Vi's skin. however, she didn't get offended, instead, she smirked. 

“then why don't you check if it's true?” - Vi closed the distance between you, and you caught her scent again, your noses were almost touching, and the surprise made you forget how to breathe steadily. 

“excuse me?”- was all you managed to get out. 

Vi gave you a seductive look, and only now you remembered that you weren't wearing any underwear, just one step and a robe separating you from her. suddenly, she pressed her arm against your door, trapping you between her and the door. 

“I can prove to you that you'll moan just as sweetly from my touch. maybe even better,” - those words made your breathing heavier, and Vi's eyes were devouring you, undressing you with her gaze. you felt completely under her control, and you... liked it. 

“or maybe you'll prove to me that I don't know how to give pleasure at all,” - her hand grabbed your chin, pulling you closer to her face so that your lips were almost touching – “so, what do you say, cupcake? do you want to ride on me?” 

you pulled your chin out of her hand and slowly leaned toward her ear, whispering – “keep dreaming,” - then turned your back on her and reached for the door handle to enter your room. but her hand caught the doorknob first, and she pressed her body slightly against yours from behind, whispering in your ear, “then why are you already turned on, cupcake? I can see how your nipples hardened from my words.” 

you were overwhelmed with emotions, your body felt like it was on fire, your cheeks were burning, and most importantly, you felt a very pleasant, pulling sensation in your lower belly. after Vi's last words, you finally opened the door to your room, dashed inside, and shut it as quickly as possible. you didn't notice when Vi left, but all you could hear was the beating of your heart in your ears. it was hard to catch a breath for you. 

"what was that just now? one moment we're not talking, and the next we're flirting so much that I can't even breathe steadily?" - your thoughts were tangled between why this girl affects you so much and why you were wet from her words... for a few minutes, you stood clutching the door as if your body couldn't move, then you finally managed to drag yourself to the bed. 

"I can prove to you that you'll moan just as sweetly from my touch. maybe even better," - this phrase echoed in your ears. God, how much it turned you on. 

"stop it, what are you doing?" - you halted the stream of your thoughts. "I need to sleep, why did I even come out of my room, why were I eavesdropping?" 

"yes, baby, come for me" - the way she said that... you covered your face with a pillow and let out a frustrated groan.

[iovetecchou]

⌜Love To Hate You ⧸ Hate To Love You⌟ 𓂃༞♡

༞ Gojo Satoru x Reader

༞ Contains...! enemies to lovers trope, implied hidden feelings, brief mention of suggestive dreams, "princess" used as a nickname for the reader, bickering, banter, implied jealousy, suggestive, making out, groping, boners (lmao)

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 2,329 words.

༞ Part 1/? Part 2.

Satoru Gojo was a real thorn in your side. Ever since you started at Jujutsu High as a teacher for the first-year students your superior- Satoru Gojo, has brought you nothing but headaches.

You were an aid for his class. Principal Yaga thought Gojo needed an extra hand with keeping the students on task. Your superior had a nasty habit of having last-minute field trips with his students when he didn't particularly feel like teaching. Which... was nearly every day. 

You admit you had high hopes before you met "The Satoru Gojo". Putting on your brightest smile as you introduced yourself to him for the very first time. You even bought him Zunda as a peace offering, hoping it would smooth over well with the one and only. 

But alas, he ignored you. 

Completely. 

He swiftly took the bag of goodies from your hand before perching himself atop his desk. Gojo swung his legs in a child-like manner as he began stuffing his annoyingly gorgeous face with your peace offering. Your jaw hung agape as you watched him do as he pleased. Not having a single ounce of respect for you.

 If his actions didn't prove it enough, his following words solidified it. 

"Let's get one thing straight, princess. I am in charge here, so don't make yourself too comfortable." 

"Princess..?!"

From that day forward, things were... rocky between the two of you.

He would step on your toes, sometimes quite literally; just to tick you off. Gojo spoke over you, correcting you mid-sentence when you were teaching the students. He would show up late every morning, leaving you to cover for his ass when Principal Yaga made his rounds. Among many other pesky things that would take you hours to list. 

Gojo was infuriating. Everything he did made your blood boil. But, with all that being said... why was it that he plagued your dreams each night? 

You cursed his name each morning when you woke up from a heated dream where Gojo was the star of it. He was obnoxious, loud, arrogant and cocky. So why was it that your deepest desires; even in your subconscious mind, revolved around him?

I guess the saying is true... don't hate someone too much, It might bloom into love.

But alas, you acted like those dreams were nothing but a nuisance. Facing Gojo each morning with indifference. Pretending like he didn't plague your dreams was a cakewalk, and you would guard your dirty little secret like your life depended on it. 

"Rough night, princess? You look like a total wreck!" Gojo quipped. He offered you a shit-eating grin as he swung his long legs up, crossing them atop his desk. Not having a care in the world for the papers that cascaded to the floor from his sudden action.

"Speak for yourself. Smells like you've been wearing that uniform for three days now." You sighed, placing your bag atop your desk before you took your seat. 

"I've been wearing this uniform for five days actually, if we're keeping count." Gojo snickered, fiddling his pen between his long fingers with ease. 

"That's repulsive, Gojo." Your face crinkled in disgust as you paid him no mind. All your focus shifting toward the ungraded papers on your desk. 

"I was joking, princess! You don't actually believe I'm that filthy- do you?!" He chuckled once more before his attention was brought to the door by the sound of a stern knock. 

"Nanami! Whatcha doin' here?" Gojo chimed, unmoving from his lax spot. 

Nanami cleared his throat before striding toward your desk, completely ignoring Gojo. You sat up from your chair to greet Nanami with a small smile. 

"Good morning, Nanami!" You spoke softly. You got a small glimpse of Gojo from behind Nanami's large frame as he pretended to gag himself with a pen from your gentle tone. You scowled before Nanami's words pulled you from your offense. 

"Morning, Y/N. I've been meaning to ask- would you like to go to dinner with me tonight? You've been working hard these past few months since you started here, and I'd be more than happy to treat you out." 

Nanami offered you a tight-lipped smile. You felt coy from his generous offer, stammering out your quick response. "Of course, I would love to! That's so kind of you, Nanami." 

Your smile was wide as your eyes averted from Nanami's striking gaze. "It's the new place that opened up in town a few weeks ago. Meet me there when you finish up here for the day. I'll be patiently waiting for you."

With that, Nanami took his leave. He spared one last glance at you from the doorway before descending the hall. Gojo was now sitting upright. You could feel his gaze on you even past the blindfold. "Looks like someone's got a hot date tonight." He scoffed. 

You rolled your eyes at your superior's childish musings. "It's not a date! Nanami is just being friendly. Quit assuming that, it's weird."

You went back to grading your student's papers. The thought of this night actually being a date with Nanami now plagued your brain.

"It's totally a date," Gojo muttered under his breath as his palm rested on the side of his cheek, supporting his head. 

"So what if it is? Why does it matter so much to you anyway?" You snapped. Your head shot up as you now glared at him furiously. It was only eight in the morning, and he was already getting on your nerves. 

Gojo stood, turning away from you. He began writing today's lesson on the chalkboard, not daring to answer either of your questions. His reaction took you off guard for sure. Gojo always had to have the last word, so why was he clamming up on you now? 

You didn't have the chance to ask him again before your students began rushing into the classroom. You figured you would drop it anyway. Focusing on class today was more important. 

The day zipped by like every other, and Yuuji was the last to leave as usual. Waving goodbye with his sunny smile that you cherished. You finished up the last of your paperwork for the day before checking the clock, that hung above Gojo's desk. It was getting late. Maybe if you left now, you would have some time to change before meeting Nanami. 

"Let me drive you home." Gojo's voice pulled you from your train of thought as you pulled your coat on and slung your bag over your shoulder. 

"I'd much rather take the train." You sighed, making your way to the door. "Turn off all the lights and lock the door this time! Principal Yaga will have both of our asses if you don't."

You descended toward the elevator, not caring to say goodbye to your perpetual pain-in-the-ass superior. You began planning out an outfit in your mind, overthinking if you should go casual or not. But just as you were about to press the ground floor button, Gojo snaked through. He offered you a sly grin before slotting himself behind you. He reached over you, taking the liberty of pressing the button.

"I'll admit, I'm a little hurt you didn't wave goodbye to me, princess." His breath tickled the shell of your ear from where he leaned forward slightly behind you. You felt a chill run down your spine from the proximity, whipping around to face him before shoving him back slightly. Having him invade your senses like that was dangerous.

"Don't be a baby. You know I have plans tonight." You glared daggers into the tall man standing before you. Tapping your foot in annoyance the more he tested your patience. 

"Plans, huh? Don't you mean your hot date with the charming Nanami? What a dashing prince he is, perfectly suitable for a princess like you."

"You're a weirdo- and stop it with that nickname. I don't like it." You huffed. Crossing your arms over your chest, still glaring at his annoyingly perfect face. 

"Oh, but calling you princess is the best part of my day. You know why?" Gojo trailed off, stepping closer to you. You could feel his intense gaze on you even past his blindfold as his chest came flush against yours. Your arms going limp at your sides.

"...Why?" You genuinely were curious, but your response only seemed to make Gojo's grin widen. 

"Because watching you pretend that you hate it when you secretly love it is entertaining, princess."

Your blood boiled at his response, and you could feel yourself heating up inside and out. You brought your hands up to beat on his chest, but he grabbed your fists before you had a chance. Gojo pulled your balled-up fists closer to his chest, holding them tightly. 

Before you could process it, Gojo took both of your fists between one of his large palms. His other hand pressed a tricky button on the elevator, causing the whole contraption to stop. 

"Gojo- what the hell did you do that for?!" You were furious at this point. Trying with all your might to free your hands from his grasp, but to no avail. 

"Princess, what are we doing?" His voice lowered an octave, seeming more serious than you've ever seen him before.

"What the hell are you talking about?" You knit your eyebrows together in confusion, still attempting to free your hands. 

"Us, I'm talking about us. I'm tired of playing this game." Gojo spoke calmly, bringing his face even closer to yours. 

"You mean us hating each other?" You scoff, trying to avert your gaze from his face. The proximity was causing you to feel butterflies, which you couldn't help but internally scold yourself for. 

"Do you really hate me, princess?" Gojo sounded almost sad when he uttered those words, pulling your gaze right back to his annoyingly handsome face. 

You stammered for a moment. Shaking your head in confusion before you whispered, "N-No, I mean... I don't know. Do you hate me?" You weren't sure what compelled you to ask him those four little words. But they were out in the open, no taking it back now. 

Before you could process it, Gojo closed the small distance between you both. His lips gently brushed over yours as he finally released your hands from his grasp. Expirementally, his lips captured yours. Gojo's large palms came down to smooth over your sides as he deepened the kiss. 

Your eyes were blown wide from the sudden affection coming from the man who plagued your dreams and tormented your days. But you couldn't deny that it felt good, that kissing him felt right. Gojo gasped against your lips as your hands came up to tug at his snowy tufts of hair. 

This gave Gojo the confidence to trail his hands lower. His palms caressed the sides of your thighs before hoisting you up. On instinct, your legs wrapped around his waist. "Hah..." You let out a small whine as your back collided with the elevator wall. 

"Oh my god..." Gojo groaned deeply, letting his kisses trail down your jaw and to your neck. 

"W-What...?" You mindlessly questioned as you threw your head back. Completely lost in the pleasurable feeling of Gojo marking up your neck. 

"That sound you just made. So heavenly, princess." Heat pooled in your core from his honest confession. Knowing your muffled whine had such an effect on him caused pride to flood your chest.

His slender fingers felt so hot against the fat of your ass as he kneaded the flesh with fervor. His pelvis was flush against yours, and you couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of his crotch pressing against yours. All of your fantasies were finally coming to fruition. If it wasn't for how real this all felt, you would have assumed this was just another one of your dreams. 

"Hey, you guys okay in there?" 

A gruff voice coming from the intercom built into the elevator pulled a gasp from your lips. You hurriedly pushed Gojo away as you found your footing. "Yeah, all good in here. Sorry! Must have pressed the wrong button." 

Gojo lied through his teeth as he swiftly pressed a button, putting the elevator back in motion. You could hardly look at him as you adjusted your uniform, trying to fix your disheveled state. 

"Did that answer your question, princess?" Gojo's words caused more heat to swirl in your tummy. 

Oh, it answered your question alright. It's safe to say his little show of affection did more than just answer it.

You zipped right past him the moment the elevator stopped at the ground floor. You felt too embarrassed to say anything more at that moment. But more than that, really. You felt as if you didn't leave now; you wouldn't have been able to resist him. 

Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you stormed out of the school building and toward the train station. How were you supposed to face Nanami after this? Especially if he thought this was a date. Gojo was a real prick for planting that seed in your head and then kissing you fervently the same day.

As your mind ran rampant, Gojo still lingered in the elevator. He slumped to the floor the second his back hit the wall. His slender digits caressed his lips. He could still feel the warmth of your skin against his plush mouth. His heart pounded in his chest, as he recounted every detail of what transpired only moments ago. Not helping to alleviate the painful tent in his pants in the slightest. 

All Gojo could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss you again, to make you his and his alone. After finally getting a taste of you, there was no way in hell he would give you up now. Gojo was determined to win you over. No matter what it would take.  

[redxx95]

Exploring Kurosawa's internalized homophobia and compulsive heterosexuality

oh yea baby we bustin out the Big Words for this one 😎

This was supposed to be posted at the end of pride month but Life happened and it got delayed a lot 😩 So yea happy pride month (and happy birthday Kurosawa I guess 😂)

(btw I think I've never mentioned this on any of my other posts but english is not my first language, so if anything I write ever sounds awkward, that's probably why 😅) (also I had to merge a bunch of images to get around the image limit, this post is really long, the word count is at 1930 words 💀)

Hope you guys enjoy the read! 💞

Spoilers for anything up to vol 11

Let me start this by saying that there's no actual textual evidence of Kurosawa being gay (rather than bi/pan), so this interpretation is definitely veering towards headcanon territory. I'm also not trying to establish this as the only Correct opinion and anyone is of course allowed to have their own sexuality headcanons, this is very healthy and valid 👍

Kurosawa's internalized homophobia

The first scene I want to put under a magnifying glass is this one.

Let's examine what's going on here: Kurosawa has just tried to kiss Adachi, whose hesitation he perceived as disgust. Then he pretends it was disgusting for him too, because he thinks that is the average reaction anyone would have, extending this to Adachi as well. The way he says "who'd be into that?" is already lowkey homophobic, but the japanese line makes it even more evident: "普通嫌だよな" (= "Normally, you'd dislike that right?"). Keyword here being "普通" = "normal, ordinary", implying that anyone who would like that is abnormal. So what does that say about him then, who was so happy to get the chance to kiss another man? This is pretty much textbook internalized homophobia, where he has accepted what he perceives to be the general opinion on gay people and has made those values his own, hating himself for it (albeit only briefly here), which is why he internally apologizes to Adachi.

This is not the only instance of him feeling like that, although this next part is slightly more speculative than the more obvious example above.

So we all know that Kurosawa is a jealous, jealous man. It's one of his defining character traits and it's often the source of conflict and comedy alike. But he does not express his jealousy equally across genders. With men he has this strong rivalry where he needs to prove himself better and more worthy of Adachi's attention.

But with women he has a different approach: gently coaxing them away from him, lest they realize what a catch Adachi really is.

So, why this difference? The answer I have is that he doesn't actually believe he can compete with a woman. If Adachi wants to be close with a man, Kurosawa thinks it might as well be him, he's the best option after all. But if Adachi wants a woman, he cannot offer anything and is therefore the inferior option. He believes this even after he found out Adachi's not completely repulsed at the idea of being with a man. Even if Adachi's okay with men, he'll always prefer a woman.

And whenever he imagines anyone else with Adachi, it's always a woman, specifically Fujisaki, which he believes is "his type".

And he at least thinks he's very far away from that ideal. (He's not but that's a topic for a different essay.) If anyone's wondering why he even bothers at all then if he's so sure that a woman will out-compete him, I think the lyrics from the anime opening actually put it best, specifically the last verse:

I have these impatient feelings I doubt this love will come to fruition But still I can't give up this happiness There's a feeling here I can't resist A love like a castle in the sky

So basically, his plan is that he might as well ride the high of his first ever crush as far as it will go, intercepting where he can to prolong it just that little bit further, until it all inevitably comes to an end. (a castle in the sky = an unreachable dream) This plan kind of fluctuates throughout volumes 1-3 as Adachi gives him a bunch of mixed signals, but it holds true most of the time.

Adachi's side

Now I'd like to highlight the way Adachi actually thinks about their relationship, because it serves as a great contrast to Kurosawa's assumptions about him.

Throughout the first three volumes we see him grapple with his newfound feelings for Kurosawa, but he (almost) never puts his gender at the forefront of his musings. The manga makes it very clear that it's his lack of romantic experience and low self esteem that make it hard for him to accept Kurosawa's affections, and not the fact that he's a man.

This second page here being his own little gay awakening, where he realizes that he is not, in fact, disgusted by intimacy with a man.

It's also worth mentioning that when he later introduces Kurosawa to his parents (ch 41), they are immediately welcoming of him, suggesting he grew up in a very tolerant environment.

And it's not like he's completely unaware of heteronormativity/homophobia either, especially after he does his research in vol 8, but he is slightly more defiant in responding to it.

(I love how he just buys that bag he probably doesn't need that's supposed to come with all the wedding magazines, just as this very tiny act of rebellion.)

So now that we can see how different Kurosawa's thought patterns are compared to Adachi's, the next question we should ask ourselves is: Why is he like that?

Heteronormativity in Kurosawa's life

(yes we're finally getting to the comphet part of the essay 😂)

First let's look at the environment he grew up in. There are not many scenes with his family, but from those that we do have, we can at least make some assumptions about how he must've been raised.

His mother is clearly the authority figure in his life, judging by how she's described as "strong" and how terrified he is at her merely setting down a teacup (while Adachi has a more mild reaction). Her reaction to the news of them dating and Kurosawa expecting his parents to go as far as disowning him for it would suggest that she might just be generally homophobic.

But when they actually go meet her we see this slightly more nuanced perspective.

She's not entirely against it, but she does believe they are making a mistake by choosing to be together, hence why she thinks they might "regret it". There's many hardships that gay couples in Japan face, some of which we even see discussed in the manga, so it's not hard to see why she would be concerned for her son. The way she talks about Kurosawa never causing any problems, but "changing" ever since he fell for Adachi further supports that conformity is what she believes will ultimately lead to a successful, happy life. And that's also why she accepts Adachi later, when he's made it abundantly clear in his speech that they are happier in this non-conforming relationship than they were without it.

To contrast, her other child Mari is shown to have a very progressive stance (see: her pep talk in ch 47) and it would not surprise me if that is the reason she's rarely in japan and is never seen together with her family, save for the one time they're all at the wedding. She might find the conforming environment too restrictive and preferring to keep her distance. (shoutout to naina for this bit 🙏)

So that's Kurosawa's family situation. Now let's check how his social circle holds up.

From what we see of his friends, they never even seem to consider him possibly being with a man.

And his work environment seems rather toxic to say the least.

It clearly dictates traditional gender roles as the ideal. Nobody except Fujisaki even clocks any of Kurosawa's advances on Adachi as romantic in nature, even though he seems to be quite obvious about it (see: ch 34.5). And it's not like dating in general is discouraged at Toyokawa either, as we can see from all the women constantly vying for Kurosawa's attention.

From all this we can conclude that Kurosawa's upbringing and social/work environment is painfully heteronormative and until he falls for Adachi it seems he never questioned the status quo either.

The famous onsen scene, while funny, also reveals the sad truth that Kurosawa, in his 30 years of life, probably never even had the chance to explore his sexual orientation, rather focusing on being "perfect" in his straight relationships.

Speaking of those relationships...

He apparently had a bunch of girlfriends, who all seem to have dumped him pretty early on. His mother's surprise at him expressing a willingness to commit also makes me think he's never brought anyone home either. He also only seems to have a surface level understanding of what a proper relationship is supposed to entail, if his idea of an ideal date is just "what the average person" thinks is romantic. So why were all of his relationships so short-lived? Before I answer that...

Intermission: Kurosawa's smiles

It has come to my attention that this is not common knowledge, so let me explain: There's a way to tell apart Kurosawa's fake smiles from his real ones, without any context clues, just purely visually.

Real smiles: (ch 23, 24, 37)

Fake smiles: (ch 5, 13, 32)

The difference being very simple: Blush = real, no blush = fake 👍 And before anyone mentions it: No he doesn't just blush when he's around Adachi, that last fake smile is actually directed at him. (ch 32)

Edit from the future: This holds true like 90% of the time, but as Toyota's art style becomes more detailed, this doesn't apply as much in the newer volumes. I think there's also new details added that I haven't quite figured out yet so take this bit with a grain of salt. (The images below are still from her early art style though.)

So now that we have this additional knowledge, let's take a look at every instance Kurosawa is paired with a woman.

He's smiling in all of these. Not a single one has a real smile in it though.

I think he's never actually had his heart in any of his relationships, and the girls probably noticed it and that's why they dumped him.

And, of course, the first time he actually falls in love...

... just so happens to be with a man.

Even his friends comment on this, who have known him since high school.

It's almost funny how perfectly this aligns with real life gay people. Having numerous, short-lived relationships with people of the "wrong" gender is one of the more common traits of compulsive heterosexuality. (source: me oof) (but also shoutout to the "Am I a lesbian?" masterdoc, google it if you don't know, it's truly eye-opening)

After dating Adachi

So we have already established that he's far happier when he does finally get to date Adachi, but do any of his other thought patterns change?

Honestly it seems like he throws every single reservation about being seen as gay out the window.

He starts bragging like crazy about his new relationship to anyone willing (and unwilling) to listen, he has no qualms about PDA, he marks Adachi up and down so everyone knows he's taken and the only thing stopping him from proclaiming his love for Adachi to the whole world is the still very much existing societal homophobia. But he is a lot more easy-going about it now than he ever was before.

And I think the best way to describe this mental shift is, hear me out, the date song from volume 4...

... specifically the last 2 verses as a whole, and this section in particular:

"I won't let anyone divide our fraction! You couldn't pry this thrill from my hands when they're cold and dead!"

Horrible lyrics aside, this perfectly encapsulates how Kurosawa simply couldn't care less anymore now that he finally has what he's wanted for more than a year, maybe even his whole life. All the societal pressure pales in comparison to the sheer euphoria he feels at finally having someone that he loves and who loves him back just as strongly, feeling cared for and seen like no one else ever did.

And, you know, just happens to be a man. 🏳️‍🌈

[diejager]

for your cod monster au, you mentioned that graves was making jokes about turning you into a vampire. how did the guys react to that? im curious if graves did it more than once just to rile them up?

Pleasantries cw: mention of turning, mention of blood drinking, tell me if I missed any.

Graves likes to have fun, he loves putting himself first and the world next. He gorges like a wealthy king atop his throne, waving at men and women, coaxing them forward or backward to do what he wants, Graves is a person who does whatever he wants whenever he wants —or at least as much as he can until he gets into trouble.

He jokes on and on about turning you, of sinking his teeth into your soft skin. He can smell the sweetness in your veins, the healthy dose of iron and fat in your bloodstream that would satiate him much more than a homeless person eh picked up from the streets. Yours smelled good and he swears that it would taste as good as it smelled, honeyed and lightly spicy, something that would linger on his tongue pleasantly rather than the repulsive taste of rot.

He might joke about drinking you dry to rile them up, to watch them hold themselves back, heir eyes red and black with anger and disgust. He knows they can’t do anything about it unless they want him complaining and dropping the work, Shepherd would be mad about it. He had an upper-hand over them, the power of dictating whether the Shadows would help them capture Hassan or not with the drop of a hat if Graves didn’t like their characters.

They’re livid, faces red and scowling at Graves, something he relished in seeing, the self-restraint and control they had to wield. He could see the veins in Soap’s neck pop out, knowing that Soap might jump at him if you or the others weren’t there to hold him back. Ghost, ever as stoic and cold with anyone other than his direct squad, was an annoyance to Graves since he couldn’t seem to get to the man. Ghost stayed as cruel and demeaning as he was, spitting crude jabs at him or his Shadows, growling out orders or glaring at him as if he was an idiot. Gaz, as much as Graves would have liked, had little reaction to it, Gaz was naturally softhearted, gentle with you and handled you - moved you away - when Graves was around. Price had the same resilience and self-control as a wise and old dragon, patiently waiting for Graves or his Shadows to leave the room before growling out insults.

He might make the offer - threatened - to let his Shadows have a go at you, letting the hundred of thralls he had have a taste of your sweet blood, the blood from the only human near them. You were practically teasing them about it, neck uncovered and wearing t-shirt rather than long-sleeved ones around base.

Another part of him does it because, as mentioned before, you’re the only one with viable blood for him, not the mutt-tasting blood of a werewolf, the deathly rot of a wraith, the burn of a dragon or the shallow and tastelessness of a harpy. You were the only human on base that had an addictive smell, neither too strong like some women around the base, nor too light like the men who walked these halls. You had the right amount of sweetness and saltiness to you. Sweat and musk didn’t linger on you like they did with men, and flowery and fruity sugar didn’t cling to your skin like it did with the women who sprayed themselves with perfume.

Despite the burning glares Graves and his boys received from the Task Force, he found pleasure in being the source of their jealousy, their stupid possessiveness of a human he could easily turn into one of his to gift immortality and eternal beauty.

Taglist:@craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @virginalsacrifice

[artofhazbinhotel]

Hazbin hotel headcannons

I think Valentino is genderfluid and just doesn't know it

Vox is autistic and stims by jumping up and down or picking people up, his hyperfixation is sharks (I'm autistic)

Vox isn't a picky eater but his favorite thing to eat is burgers, he isn't a good cook though so he makes others do it for him

The reason Adam always folds his wings at his sides is to make himself look skinnier

Charlie has hyper empathy and that's why she struggles so much with accepting some people just can't be helped (I understand this)

Alastor has ASPD, not because he's a serial killer, that's a horrible stereotype, but because his emotions are limited and he has trouble understanding others so even if someone is his friend he might unintentionally hurt their feelings, his sadism has absolutely nothing to do with the not caring about most, maybe it's because he likes seeing so clearly what the other person feels? Rosie is one of the only people he genuinely cares about (my boyfriend has this and agrees)

Vox has NPD, it can cause extreme jealousy when your ego feels attacked, and the reason he humiliated himself on TV was that exact reason, feeling worse, Alastor has probably sent him into a narc crash several times but most of it as spent on a high, it stems from low self esteem masked with pride and indifference (my boyfriend has NPD and agrees)

Now for the controversial one that I still agree with, I think Valentino has BPD, people have said that Bipolar or NPD is also an option but saying NPD feels like just feeding into narc abuse claims. As for bipolar, the difference between BPD and bipolar is the length of episodes, BPD has rapid mood swings while bipolar ups and downs can last months, we see Valentino switch up his emotions within seconds constantly. BPD can also cause anger, jealousy, and obsession, I think angel is his FP and that's why he immediately assumed he's abandoned the second he moves out and flies into a rage and why he has the need to always have control over him (I have BPD)

Angel is hypersexual as a result of his trauma and I know people shit on the portrayal of how he acts but not every single SA survivor becomes sex repulsed, some have the opposite reaction where they intentionally sexualize themselves because they think that's all they're good for or that if they aren't doing that they're doing something wrong, I like that there's finally representation for that, characters who are overly sexual flirts don't usually have a psychological explanation

Lucifer is autistic and bad at social cues, his hyperfixation is ducks. He also has depression that stemmed from his divorce

Velvette is bisexual

[netherfeildren]

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .5

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Possessive behavior; Jealousy; Size difference; Size kink; One sad horny old man; Angst!!!! that will continue just FYI no abusing poor little vic for enjoying the suffering of others :) it’s not my fault :)

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: peep the cameo!!!!!! :) 

Word Count: 6.1K

Read on AO3

.5

Vanish. Pass into nothingness: the Keats line that frightened her. Fade as the blue nights fade, go as the brightness goes. Go back into the blue. I myself placed her ashes in the wall. I myself saw the cathedral doors locked at six. I know what it is I am now experiencing. I know what the frailty is, I know what the fear is. The fear is not for what is lost. What is lost is already in the wall. What is lost is already behind the locked doors. The fear is for what is still to be lost. You may see nothing still to be lost. Yet there is no day in her life on which I do not see her.

Joan Didion, Blue Nights

Weeks pass after that night in his truck. He calls, many times, but you never answer. And it makes you feel like the worst sort of liar, but you can’t. You can’t hear the sound of his voice, it’ll ruin you, destroy your resolve, force you to your knees at his feet, which is, if you’re being honest, the only place you really want to be. It is, perhaps, the greatest struggle of your entire life, to hold on by the skin of your teeth to this idea you have of what it is he and his marriage should remain as, and what you and he should be and should not be. 

It’s Gerri’s birthday, and Tommy and her sister had decided to throw her a party at her house. Big surgeon money makes for a big fancy house, and Gerri was over the moon, filled with happiness and laughter and that wonderful brand of Gerri specific infectious glee that forces even your miserable, morose self to pull your butt out of bed and get ready to go celebrate her. She knows you’re sad, missing him, even if she doesn’t know it’s him specifically. Although, you suspect she might have an idea of it. 

She’d begged you to come during class at the start of the week, planting her stubborn butt on a stool to stare you down while the rest of your students finished up their work and then put away their materials. Please’s and threats of tears and bodily harm and promises of copious amounts of alcohol, and if you’re feeling up to it, I could even hook you up with someone – an accompanying waggle of her eyebrows. What about a surgeon? My sister knows the perfect, sexy doctor for you. You’d profusely, profusely refused that. You could not even consider another man right now, the idea was almost repulsive to you. As she begged and pleaded and whined, another one of your students had come up, eavesdropping on the pathetic display of supplication, “Come on, teach. Don’t be a sour puss, put her outta her misery, and go to the fucking party with her,” she’d laughed. One of your best students – she had the most gorgeous tattoo on the inside of her forearm of two overlapping ferns with an intricately detailed moth at the head. She’d told you once she’d sketched it herself. You’d rolled your eyes at them, sour puss, my ass. But you knew you had to get out of this hole you’d dug yourself into, and so, their teasing had gotten to you in the end – forced you to agree to the party out of sheer preservation for your reputation. Gerri’d taken to calling you the boring barnacle… yeah, and she’d never stop if you didn’t agree – would probably force all your other students into making fun of you for the rest of the semester, as well. Annoying little shit, it was very aggravating that you loved her so much. 

-

The house is stunning – big surgeon money indeed. All shining glass, sleek wood and modern edges. A huge infinity pool in the backyard, flanked by an impressively sized guest house that Gerri said she and Tommy stayed in sometimes when they got too drunk to drive home. 

There was, after all, a doctor from Andrea’s work waiting for you at their undesired and annoyingly meddlesome behest. He was nice, handsome, boring. Not tall enough, not broad enough, hair blonde and straight and kind of straw-like – no dark, silver streaked curls and deep, warm eyes. He kind of reminds you of a shiny scarecrow, if you’re being honest and not very kind. Not Joel enough. But he was nice, and seemingly interested and he’d gotten you a drink and stayed by your side all night, attentive and polite. 

You feel miserable and made out of plastic. Your smile, fake, forced, terrible. Something has to be done about this. Perhaps, electrotherapy, a lobotomy, an exorcism. Anything to get him out of your head. 

The shiny, blonde scarecrow – doctor – is telling you about his shiny, blonde family and their fancy skiing trips now, and oh, do you ski? No? I bet you’d love it – maybe I can take you one day? Never mind that you’d been born without a single athletic bone in your entire body, when, suddenly, you hear your name being barked, rough and angry, from behind you, and then a large, searing hot palm circling your bicep on one side while his other palm slides along the span of the small of your back to grip you at the bend of your waist. Fuck. 

“Joel–”

“Hi, sweetheart.” He does not look at you as he says it, but his grip on your waist tightens for one second. He’s staring down the shiny scarecrow, murder in his eyes. Oh, that look is very scary. 

“What are you doing here?” He turns the scary look on you at that, and nope, nope, it’s even scarier pointed in your direction.

“Tommy told me you were here.”

“Wh– what? Why would he tell you?” He gives you a pointed look, and you glance at the scarecrow, nervous. “You told Tommy?” you whisper back at Joel. 

Poor doctor man looks at a loss, gaze swinging back and forth between the two of you. “I’m so sorry, can you give us a minute?” you say, embarrassed. He takes one look at Joel’s terrifying face and scampers away.

-

Moron, he thinks, sour gaze following the fucker as he tucks tail and runs. He turns back to you, answering your question, “Didn’t have to, baby. He figured it out on his own. Don’t think we’ve been what one could call discreet if you’re really paying attention.”

You shut your eyes tight, bring up a shaky hand up to rub at the delicate wing of your brow. He desperately wants to smooth out the tiny frown marring the space between your eyes. 

“N– no– but,” you stutter. 

He takes the drink you’re holding out of your hand, takes a sip of it – something sweet and way too strong for your light-weight little butt. “Mm, he get that for you?”

You scrunch your nose up at him, and he knows he’s meant to take it as a sign of your annoyance, but all he can think is that you’re too adorable for your own good. “Wh– I– you overbearing, ridiculous – give that back!” you frown up at him as he holds it out of your reach. He sets the glass on a table behind you.

“Hmm–” His big hands span the width of your waist, can’t help himself, you’re so small compared to him. It makes his cock so hard. “Let me talk to you, please. Let’s go somewhere quiet.” He doesn’t care that he’s not supposed to be here, that he shouldn’t be bothering you, he’s reached the end of his rope. 

“No – go away. It’s– it’s Gerri’s birthday.” You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he pulls you further into his chest. “I’m supposed to be having fun. She said she’d be mad if I didn’t have fun.” There are already overwhelmed tears in your eyes, and if he wasn’t so fucking desperate to see you, to talk to you after all these weeks of you ignoring him, he’d run away. Far, far away, where he can never make you cry again. 

“Just for a little bit, please,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, causing the little wisps of hair there to flutter. 

You shiver. “Where– where’s Sarah?” You bring your small hand up to clutch at his beard, cup his jaw, and scratch your nails gently down the side of his cheek, and fuck, he’s ready to burst, just with that, even as your other hand feebly tries to push at his chest. He slides a hand low on your back to press your pelvis into his. 

“Baby-sitter.” Hearing you ask after his daughter has that soft spot behind his ribs where you live now, burn and pinch painfully. 

“And–” 

He cuts you off, doesn’t want to hear you talking about her. “Gone for the weekend – work conference.” Not that he believed that.

You open your eyes again, the tears lining your lashes make them almost glow in your skull. He can’t help himself, he bends to press a soft kiss over your eye, feels the whispering, wet flutter of your long lashes against his mouth. You let out a broken mewl for him – full of all your matched wanting. “F– fine. We’ll– we’ll just talk.”

Just talk, just talk, just talk. 

He can feel the pulse of his blood beat through the line of his erection against his thigh. He wraps his hand around yours and starts leading you through the house, spots Tommy at the back of the kitchen, leaning against the counter talking to someone. His brother takes in the two of you together, gives him a subtle nod, inclines his head towards the backyard – the guest house where Joel was headed. Tommy had known, since that day so long ago when Joel had tried to discreetly tag along to the college – hoping to get a glimpse of you, he’d known there was something. Nothing discreet about your half assed excuses, reeked’a desperation, he’d said. His brother wanted him to be happy, to have a good, fulfilling relationship. He’d been telling Joel to get a lawyer for months, had been the first to tell him to not get married. He’d help him now, give the two of you time to sort this out. He knows just how insane Joel had been these past few weeks, like a caged animal, pacing and hissing at not being able to get at you. 

He steps out the back door and pulls you towards the guest house. He’d been here once, months ago, helping Gerri’s sister out with a repair she’d needed. The two of you would have privacy there to talk, for you to finally stop avoiding him. He needs to speak to you, touch you, smell you. He was going out of his goddamn mind thinking about you, dreaming about you. His cock, constantly at half mast and leaking, at all hours of the day, just at your memory. Desperate, that’s what he is, he’s desperate for you. 

“Who was that guy?”

“Who?” Your voice is anxious, breath hitching. He knows you’re twisting yourself up in knots, and he turns to pull you into his arms now, in the privacy of the dark room, lit only by the light of the moon spilling through the large bay windows. 

“The one you were talking to.” He draws his palm slowly up and down the line of your spine, feelings the little bumps and jitters of your trembling form. Skittish little rabbit. He rubs his mouth over the line of your hair, baby soft wisps tickling his nose and mouth. You smell so good, he wants to rub himself all over you like some sort of animal – mark his territory.

“Wh– I– You cannot be serious right now.” You push at him, turn to move away, but he catches you around the bend of your elbow, tugging you back forcefully into his chest. He presses his front along the line of your back, grips your hip to bring your ass into the hard line of his cock. 

“Does this feel serious to you?” He’s hard as stone, throbbing beneath his jeans. 

“Oh God, Joel–”

“Don’t want you talkin’ to other men, thinking about any other men. I know it sounds insane – can’t help it, I’m sorry.”

“I– I don’t think about anyone else but you,” you whimper. 

He wraps his arms around your waist, brings one large hand up to cradle the weight of your breast and squeeze. He can feel the stiff little furl of your nipple through your dress. He feels a little unhinged right now, overwhelmed by the feel and scent of you. “I miss you,” he whispers. “Have you missed me?” He presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear that has a violent shiver jerking down your vertebrae, you grind your ass harder into him, give him the sweetest little moan. “All I do is think about you.”

“I did, I did– I miss you so much. I wanted to talk to you, I did,” you whimper, “But– but we shouldn’t, Joel,” you say at the same time as your hand comes up and around to twist into the curls at the back of his head. He turns your head with his hand wrapped around your jaw, his entire palm cups around your neck to your cheek, thumb pressing harshly into the corner of your mouth to angle you exactly how he wants you, and then he’s tasting behind your teeth, the wet lick of his tongue into yours sends a bolt of lust straight through him, almost bringing him to his knees. He moans, deep and rumbling into your panting mouth, and your answering keen has the dribble of his precum sliding down his thigh. He needs to be closer, he needs to be inside. Fuck, he’s in danger of coming just from this, just from the sweet taste of you, your little moans, all for him. 

“Did you like that boy? Think he was nice, hmm?”

“Wha– No– no, Joel. I don’t even know him.” Brow scrunching into the most adorable little frown he’s ever seen. You blink your lashes at him, eyes glassy and slightly dazed. 

He snakes his other hand down the front of your dress and under the lace of your panties, cupping the entirety of your mound in his palm. Fuck, you’re soaked and he’s touching you, finally, finally, he’s touching you here. 

“Is all this wet for him or for me?” he says softly, dipping a single finger into your seam, a ghost of a touch over the bud of your clit. Fuck, you’re soft. Soft and swollen and soaking wet. He never wants to see you near another man again, it’s unreasonable, insane, he knows this. But the dilemma of having seen you, tasted you, felt you, but only by half measures, not really having you, well… it sets the stage for insanity. This he cannot help. 

“For you, for you– please, Joel. Just–”

“She’s drooling for me, baby.”

“Don’t be mean,” you cry.

“Will you let me make you feel good, sweet girl? Please, I just want to make you feel good.” He presses wet kisses over your cheek, down your neck to lick into the hollow of your collarbone. Your hips hitch in little grinds trying to gain more purchase against his palm, and he circles your clit slowly. You’re fucking dripping, and he moves down to press over your entrance, gives you the slightest hint of everything else he’d like to give you. 

“Oh, please–” He slides two of his fingers into the last knuckle then, to the hilt. You’re so wet, there’s no resistance at all. Your cunt swallows his fingers whole, and the both of you let out ragged moans in tandem. You’re fucking tight, and he needs to feel you around his cock, he has to. He’ll die if he doesn’t. He’ll die.

“We– we were supposed t– to talk,” you stutter, little cunt grinding down as hard as you can on his thrusting fingers. The wet squelch is deafening and obscene in the quiet of the guest house, and he can almost feel the steam of your lust and embarrassment at the sound rolling off of your skin like heat waves. 

“Yeah, yeah, baby. We’ll talk in a second.” He licks a long wet swipe along the edge of your jaw, bites down harshly, and he can feel the tight clench of your cunt at the small hurt. He pulls his fingers from you, and you let out a protesting mewl, but then he’s spinning you in his arms and kissing you. Something savage and uncontrolled rising up inside of him. He half carries, half drags you down the hall to the bedroom he knows is at the back of the house, pulls the neckline of your dress down to get at your tits, sucking and nipping as much of the soft flesh he can get at. All the previous moments of restraint, of not touching, of just watching, have turned him into this uncontrolled beast. He can feel your little feel dangling off the ground, over his boots. He almost stumbles as you lose one of your sandals, stepping over your shoe, and gripping the back of your thigh to hoist you up higher, grinding you against his length. 

He sets you down on the bed, pushing you back to lay across it as he tugs the soft cups of your bra down to get at your bare tits, sucking one peaked nipple into his mouth and pulling hard on the tip. So fucking beautiful. He swirls his tongue around your softness, kisses the underside of it, nips at the full, round side, switches to give the other one the same attention. You’re whining and crying out for him, almost sobbing. So sensitive, so sensitive – little fingers twisted in his hair to pull him closer, but he’s moving down, pulling away from your searching mouth and lifting the hem of your dress. He bends to bury his face in the soft apex of your thighs and breathes deep – satisfaction, hunger, rumbling through his chest. You smell so fucking good. He sticks his tongue out to lick at your slit over the lace of your soft, pink panties, sweet, little bow adorning the front of them. 

“Hush, lemme kiss your pussy for a little bit,” he soothes, “Don’t cry,” and you’re spreading your legs immediately at that. Good girl. 

He hooks his fingers under the soaking wet center plaque of your panties to pull it aside and drags the flat of his tongue right through your seam. Fuck, fuck. He shuts your legs to rip the fabric down your legs and then rips them open again to get at your cunt. Your back arches, curved tight like a bow string, and you spread your legs wider for him, tug on his hair to urge him closer. He settles between the space you’ve made for him – thinks that he just might like to live here for the rest of his life. He sucks your clit into his mouth and starts to press a single finger inside, giving you something to bear down on.

“God, Joel–” your gasps are wet, on the verge of overwhelmed tears, or already there, perhaps, “Feels so– so good.”

“Taste so fucking good–” He starts to fuck you with his finger, adding another, giving you more to stretch around. You’re so wet, leaking down to pool in his palm, and he focuses on your sensitive little nub, licking and sucking and kissing it, all while he watches the heave and tremble of your breasts, back arched so that you can rock into his ministrations. 

“Oh, I’m– I’m gonna come.” Yes, already, “I’m gonna–” He can feel the ripple and throb of your inner muscles working around his thrusting fingers, he hooks them against the deep, spongy spot at the front of your walls and sucks on your clit. Everything goes tight and liquid inside of you. The rapid flutter of your muscles trying to suck his fingers deeper, as you gush into his mouth, has all the blood rushing from his head to his dick so quickly he feels slightly faint. He licks you through it, gentling the thrust of his fingers but not stopping. Your restless legs shift around him, too much, and then he’s shifting back up to you, a bite to your nipple, a kiss pressed to the underside of your jaw, and he’s pulling you down the bed so your ass is right at the edge and tugging at his zipper, pulling his boxers down to free his aching cock and heavy balls. Fist clenched tight around himself, he jacks it once, twice and then presses the angry, red head to your clit, slides the underside of it through your cleft to feel the heat and wetness. Shit, your skin is scorching hot, soaked, and he can see the slight clench of your hole, begging to be filled. 

“Joel, please I– I want–”

“Fuck – will you let me– will you let me put it in? Just a little bit?” He’s thrusting against the slick red of you, palm pressed against the shaft to create friction on either side. On every pull back his head catches the smallest bit at your entrance, and fuck, fuck, it would be so easy, so good, “Just– just for a second, baby, please? Just the tip?”

“I – I don’t– I–” The head catches more fully, the wide tip of it giving you just the first slight stretch of it. “Oh, please–” Please, please, please. 

He feeds you the first inch – eyes glued to the way your little hole stretches obscenely around his fat girth, “Shit,” he snarls. He fucks you just like that, with just the tip and you try and arch even more, impossible, you’re already pulled tight as an arc, trying to take him deeper, and then your knee is hitching against his hip and pressing him in closer. He slides all the way inside, to the very end of you, in one smooth, devastating go. He feels his tip bump against the mouth of your womb, and your shared moan is pained and ragged. Your fluttering lids springing all the way open, eyes wide, almost shocked. The look shared between the two of you – incredulous, as if neither of you knew – had ever occurred to you – that something in this world could ever feel this good. 

He buries his face in your neck, shuts his eyes tight. Fuck, he’s gonna come, he’s gonna come. Your gasping moans, the lush press of your breasts to his chest, the fluttering of your cunt around him – nothing in all his life has ever felt like this. There’s a pain, deep in his chest, in a place he didn’t even know existed. This is like nothing else that has ever existed in this world. He’ll never be able to let you go after this, never, never. 

He wraps his hand around your throat, tries to settle you. “Don’t– don’t move, don’t make a sound–”

“I can’t– I can’t– You’re so deep.” Your legs kick restlessly around him.

“Baby, shut up, please,” he begs, he cannot come yet, he cannot. This is the first time in over three years he’s been inside of a woman, the first time he’s been inside of you. He cannot ruin it with a happy trigger finger. You’re clawing at his back, gasping and crying for him to move, to fuck you, please, please, please, fuck me. He slides a hand under your butt and lifts you slightly off the bed to bring you closer to him, grinds his cock deep, deep, right at your cervix so that you’re crying for real now. 

“Too much, too much,” you clutch tightly at his bicep, going back and forth between trying to push him away and pull him closer. He can feel the wet press of your tears sliding along his cheek, over his mouth, and he licks his lips to taste them, has his eyes rolling to the back of his head at their saltiness. He hitches you more firmly in his grasp and starts to fuck you. His thrusts, deep and devastating, punching all air, voice, thought out of you, heavy balls slapping wetly against your ass.

“You can take it, you can take it. You can take anything I give you. You’re my pretty, perfect girl,” he grits, pulls himself up so he can stare at the place where you’re taking him, puffy, red cunt stretched obscenely around his slick base. 

“You feel so good– I can’t, I can’t– What are we going to do? What are we going to do? It feels so good.” You’re crying, incoherent, fucked out look in your eyes as you claw at his shirt, little nails scraping over his belly and chest. He grips you under one knee to pull your leg up, hooking your ankle over his shoulder to deepen the angle. You come again, instantly, just at the change, the deepening of the angle, the head of his cock battering savagely against that deep, soft spot inside you.

“Fuck, yeah. Let me feel that cunt get wet, little girl.” Your mewls are high pitched, supplicant, and you gush around him. He feels it soak his pelvis, drip down his balls.

No one’s ever been this deep, nothing’s ever felt like this, you say, over and over again. 

He plants one knee on the bed and hunches over you, ankle still dangling limply over his shoulder and pounds into you. The feel of your cunt rippling around him, sucking him deeper is too much. He wishes he could last longer, feel you come around him again. What if you never let him do this again? What if you never want him again after this? What if it’s just a one time thing? He’ll never get over this, he’ll never be able to move on from this. He can’t hold back, he starts to fill you, hot thick spurts coating your insides, and you moan again at the searing heat of him, right at the mouth of your womb, grinds deep, deeper, as deep as he can, the contractions of your inner muscles pulling him in. He wishes he could crawl beneath your skin, live inside of you, make a home for himself behind the safe cage of your ribs, and he thinks that you’re right, nothing has ever felt like this, nothing will ever feel like this again. 

He’s ruined now. You’ve ruined him

He collapses on top of you, wants to crush you with his heavy weight, meld your chests together so that you’ll have to be with him forever after this. He presses wet, breathless kisses to the vulnerable underside of your jaw, behind your ear where your scent is the most concentrated, breathes you in deeply. You wrap your arms and legs around him, and he can feel the clench of your inner muscles around his softening cock. He hasn’t done this in a long time, he wonders what his refractory period is now, if he’ll be able to go again soon, if you’ll let him. 

“I wanted that so badly,” you whisper, nuzzle your nose into his hair. 

“Me too, sweetheart.” 

“I’m scared.”

“You have nothing to be scared of. I would never hurt you,” he promises because it’s the truth. He’d never do anything to purposely hurt you. 

“I’m scared of what I feel for you,” you say quietly, “I– I don’t–”

He slides his hand under you to press you closer. “I know, sweet girl. Me too.” He angles your head to give himself access to your mouth, starts his kiss out soft and gentle, slotting your full upper lip between both of his to pepper soft little pecks and sucks to it, then tilts his head to get a deeper angle and lick into you. 

You’re completely relaxed beneath him. Soft and warm and wet, entirely pliant. So sweet. It’s one of the things he loves most about you, how sweet you are. Sweet and kind and earnest – tenderhearted. You’re right, in a way, this is something to be afraid of. The things he feels for you – the depth of it, it’s not something he was expecting, not prepared for, but he’s certain there isn’t a way of stopping it now. This is what it is, will go where it was always going to go, from the first moment he saw you, touched you, tasted you. 

“What are we going to do?”

“I want to tell her.” It’s the only truth, the only road he wants to go down. He wants to be with you, he wants this out in the open. “You aren’t a secret to be kept or hidden. You deserve to be cherished out in the open.”

Your tears spill harder at that, “Joel–”

“Baby,” he lifts up slightly to look at you, “This is it.”

You turn to look away and he feels dread coil in his gut. If you pull away from him now he’ll lose his mind. He isn’t prepared for this, he isn’t the type of man who’s ever had to deal with this type of feeling. “I – I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I– I don’t want–”

“You don’t want what?” he brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face, runs the tip of his finger along the arch of your brow, down the slope of your nose. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” he says, because it’s the truth. In this moment, he thinks he’d do anything at all you’d ask of him. Open his very veins for you. You have him speared by the heart, eating out of the palm of your small hand. 

“I don’t want to be the reason your marriage ends,” your brow crumples, “I told you. I– I can’t be. I couldn’t live with that.”

“My marriage never really began to start with. I told you that.” He moves to pull out, both of you groaning softly at the sensitive slide of his cock slipping out of you, the slick gush that follows. He sits back on his heels, grips both of your knees to keep you spread and enjoy the sight of the viscous drip of his spend out of your messy hole. He wants to bend to eat his own come out of you. You’ve turned him into some sort of beast, subjugated to the scent and sound and feel of your body. But instead he turns to sit at the edge of the bed, tucks himself back into his jeans. He leans forward, elbows resting against his spread knees, and drags his palm over his face, rubs the scruff of his beard. He feels you turn to curve around him, your hand snaking up the back of his shirt to press your palm against his hot skin, your knees curling into his lap around his waist. “It was never – it was never– I don’t even know. Never a real marriage, I suppose. Or never something either of us wanted for the right reasons. I – I felt like it was the right thing to do, at the time, for Sarah. I told you this. But– but it was never how it should’ve been. I worry now, sometimes, if we haven’t just done more damage to her, built a foundation that’s so rotten, so broken, that she’ll be able to feel it for the rest of her life.”

“Joel,” you whisper, dragging your fingers softly up and down his back. 

“She was born into a broken home – how can I ever– how can I ever make that up to her?” He turns back to look at you then, “A home where her parents never loved each other – barely even tolerated each other. What is that gonna do to her? What will that teach her about love and relationships?” He grips you around the bend of your knee, anchors himself with the feel of your soft skin beneath his rough palm. 

“I think that, from– from experience, that it will be enough for her to know that she has you, that you love her, that you’ll always be there for her. You’re a good father, Joel. A– a wonderful father. She’s so, so lucky to have you.” And the look in your eyes as you say this to him is so earnest, so sincere and kind that he knows, in that very instant, that he’s falling in love with you, that he is��already in love with you. He folds over to press his face into your belly, hug you tight to himself. “Your love for her will teach her what love is supposed to be. Honest, forgiving, patient. She doesn’t need any other example than that. That’s enough for a little girl, trust me.” You drag your nails gently along his scalp. 

He presses a kiss to your belly, another to your still bared breast. He rests his cheek on your chest to look up at you. “Thank you. Thank you for that.” What he really wants to say is, thank you for existing, thank you for finding me, thank you for being magic, thank you for letting me touch you. Please, let me keep even one small piece of you, I’ll take such good care of it for the rest of my life, I promise.

“But you– you can’t tell your wife about this, can’t– can’t leave her for me. That isn’t– that isn’t ever what I wanted, or– or set out to do. I told you why, I explained this to you.” He watches a bright flush flood your cheeks, brow folding into a frown as you stutter out the words. “I don’t want you to do that.”

“What’s left of this marriage is going to end either way. It’s only a matter of time.”

“But not for me. Not because of me, or for you to run straight to me. I can’t– I couldn’t live knowing I’d done that.”

“You haven’t done anything. This was done a long time ago, the foundation was damaged from the start.”

“N– no, still. I can’t.” You shift away from him, sit up to right your clothes. There is a part of you that hums the sounds of uncertainty, he can hear it in your voice, but it is so quiet in the face of everything else. The echo of your screeching guilt and fear so loud, it overwhelms everything else. 

“So, then what? This was just a one time thing? You want nothing more from this? From me?” He spits, hurt. He knows he should be gentle, not get angry, but the thought of you taking yourself away from him now makes panic climb like fire up his chest and throat. 

“I don’t know,” you say quietly, face still turned away from him. “I– I can’t tell you that right now. But I do know that I don’t want you to tell your wife, or to leave her for me.”

“So you think I should stay with her? Even though we’re both miserable. Even though all I want is to be with you. That’s what you want me to do?”

You let out a hoarse, anguished little sound at that, but then: “That’s not for me to say.” Your voice sounds broken, jagged, lacerating. “That isn’t my business,” you say so quietly, almost like you’re afraid to utter the words out loud, know what a lie they are. But he hears it. Loud and clear, like a slap to the face. 

“Not your business?”

“I should get back.” You stand to right your dress, he watches your shaking knees knock together, and he reaches out to catch you if you need him, but you steady yourself on your own. When you finally turn back to look at him, there are tears streaming down your face. In some sick, twisted way, the sight of them is a comfort. They tell him that this isn’t what you really want, that your words hurt you too. In a way, they help him understand you better, as well. You’re trying to do what you think is the right thing, as wrong as it is for all of you involved. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, wringing your hands together. He only nods. You go to clean yourself up in the restroom, shutting the door quietly behind you.

-

When you step back out into the bedroom, he’s already gone, but there’s a glass of water left waiting for you on the bedside table. 

Chapter .6

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

[writingsofwesteros]

https://www.tumblr.com/writingsofwesteros/770494825834446848?source=share

Another thought is Ramsay Bolton fucking Theon's sister in front of him, not expecting to enjoy her so thoroughly. He pumps into her with a frevor, completely lost to the sensations as he abuses her creamy cunt. Her moans and frantic way of reaching for him, a man who repulsed her yet she let do such sinful things to without a fight, holding onto his neck and tracing her hands down his chest. Ramsay knows this won't be the last time he takes her, her body doing things to him he'd never expected and the thought of making her turn into such a slut in front of her brother is enough to make him cum right there.

Theon started out crying and begging for him to leave her alone, thrashing around and screaming into his gag as he fought to do anything he could to save her. Ramsay was slow and teasing, but rough while taking her dirty clothes off piece by piece, cutting parts that annoyed him to unfasten. Every cut or tug revealed more of her smooth skin, her face showing her discomfort and embarrassment. Theon longed for nothing more than to hug her tightly and protect her as he's done since their father abandoned them with the Starks, but there was no way of escaping the knots tied by a man used to torturing people until they break.

It's not too far into the whole debacle that Theon is surprised by his sister practically letting the madman do whatever he wants with her. She was warmed up to the idea of not fighting back when Ramsay bent her over and playfully slapped her bum, his large and calloused hand smoothing over her skin greedily and making her pussy drip. When he begins playing with her pussy, running his fingers up and down her cunt before dipping them in and showing Theon how her parts spread for him, she can't help but cant her hips against his motions.

That's how she ended up getting fucked in multiple positions all around Ramsay's play room. He fucked her doggy style first making her look forward to a blank wall before turning her to Theon and making her tell him just how much she's enjoying letting Ramsay destroy her cunt. When she doesn't immediately do it, he roughly slams his cock into her before grabbing her hair and announcing loudly that he'd make her suck him off if she didn't, Ramsay's eyes making contact with Theon's. Strangely, he didn't seem opposed to it, though his sister sung a different tune when she started whimpering about how much she loved Ramsay's cock.

By the end of it, Ramsay finds himself loving the feel of her. Her pussy wrapped around him tightly and was milking him of precum with every thrust, her body taking control over her mind and accepting him fully. Ramsay loses control of his own body and allows himself to think less of crushing Theon's soul and more about fucking his fill using the other man's sister in front of him. Theon's eyes had glazed over, his hard cock straining against his pants as he admires how his sister looks in the throes of passion. In his lust filled mind, even Ramsay's dominance and erratic thrusting are a turn on. It makes him proud, yet a bit jealous to see how good his sister was at making the man crumble with just her body. His only reprieve is Myranda coming in and slowly stroking him off while commenting on how good the other girl was doing taking Ramsay's cock, teasing him that she couldn't wait to have her around forever. Myranda teases that she might even taste the girl too, but is shut down when Ramsay's groans drown them out, alerting the two that he'd ultimately came inside the girl. His eyes show his surprise as he'd planned to paint her body with his seed instead, her cunt proving much too pleasant to escape last minute. Myranda feels a bit of jealousy at this as he's never done that with her, seeing this as an implication that the girl won't be as much of a toy as originally thought. Though perhaps he would still be nice enough to let her play with the girl as well sometimes, Myranda finding her absolutely beautiful and intriguing. Theon has a lot to look forward to from now on. 👑💀

THE HOTTEST!

We need more Ramsay thats for sure and of course Theon becomes aroused by the sight.

Ramsay notices it and keeps that information in the back of his mind for later.

[pong03]

Leo kurosagi analysis

this was requested but tumblr wont let me post to their ask so: Okay, Leo is selfish. I'm not gonna deny all the bad things people say about him, or even deny he is a bad person, but he is a GREAT set up for a character. I would like to say that Tokyo debunker is giving set up for growth from each character, Leo is just the most Jarring, for the fan base. full disclosure, I did not like Leo or even consider liking him until I saw the HATE on here, I'm not just trying to be quirky by liking the most disliked character either. I tend to just want to see the good in what most people dislike. I like kpop and I tend to bias the most criticized or least biased members of a group, because I think it's an amazing feeling to give love... Although I understand it's cathartic to hate too, and that's probably why the Leo hate is so strong. I also still don't LIKE Leo, but I really do want to explore his character and I probably will make more posts as we see him more and as I experience him more myself. The Leo cu*king tho, is maybe my least favorite "trope" in TBD fanfic rn... but I don't k*nkshame y'all :*

I also would like to say Sho is his friend, not his victim or Rapunzel. There is some value to Leo in Sho's eyes and I think we shouldn't degrade that because we see that if Sho doesn't like someone he will not engage i.e Ren. Sho is a sweet character and I think he might be friends with Leo because he wants to see the best in him or knows his more repulsive behaviors are a defense mechanism or explained by other reasons we the MC are yet to see. Why I think that is even tho the weird blob guys in the mystery diner suck at making food he still wants to see the best in them, and that very scenario could be a cheeky analogy from the writers themselves, about Sho and Leo. Obviously Leo could be blackmailing Sho, I know that is a commonly held belief, but I do have some perspectives that could debunk that thought. Leo doesn't Garner blackmail on his peers. I think Leo is nosy, and invasive, but he is also incredibly capable, implied by his contributions to the vagastrom group case. If he wanted to figure out who Alan killed he could with his hacking prowess, but instead he asks Mido himself. In invasive ways yes, but he could just have found the information himself, whether by hacking or asking the countless witnesses of the clash. Rather he asks Mido face to face, and, correct me if I'm wrong we can't say he wouldn't have taken no for an answer because Mido just gets mad at his antics and never gives him a straight up no. Again I could be wrong so let me know if Alan does give him a straight no. It's been a while since chapter two for me.

Right now I want to explore some possibilities for his character given the information we have about him ATM. I mentioned above the fact his little nasty, mean, degrading comments could be a defense moreso that he wants people to try and push past that to see if they're viable as his friends. Especially because he is micro-influencer he might be protective of himself because of that. As well as being a chronic liar online he may want to know if he can trust you not to expose him online. I think exploring his past would be amazing because even his stigma makes him seem like an overly cautious person, as well as invasive. Cautious? I feel like its cut and dry that wanting to hear what people say when you aren't around could hint to him being quite anxious about what people think about him. like idk I also feel like the jealousy we see towards Sho might also be more about people finding Sho more approachable. I think because Leo wants to be more involved with people in power he might have not been trying to scare Subaru away because "Sho is mine >:(" and actually could have been jealous that Subaru noticed Sho first and not him. Still awful right? but also like I said I don't see Leo as enjoyable but more so a lot of room for redemption, or explanation. Sympathy or empathy might be something we feel for him a lot if he is properly explored.

Obvs these are just possibilities right :) I actually find him very cute and I like his catty behavior, especially because in comparison to other nasty ghouls he is like a kitten hissing at you, harmless. Like dude Taiga shot me, and you're just a nasty baby, I smell your fear on the inside, you just want to be loved like everyone else. He's a true tsundere and not that "I swear I don't like you!!" shit and I appreciate that. I hope nobody misconstrues this as defense of his toxicity more-so that the point of tokyo debunkers focus seems to be everyone is demonizing these teens who seriously are just teens, and sometimes teenagers are catty are toxic, but they're still learning. Especially when the adults suck too... if not more because they are adults. AND LEO IS HATED FOR BEING STINKY AND MEAN BUT TAIGA AND ROMEO ARE LIKED BUT SO MUCH MORE MORALLY DECREPIT... so idk that especially irks me. I still would like to know what people think and if you are also excited to see the exploration of the ghouls especially Leo, and what theories you may have on him yourself.

[thenerdykneazle]

Slytherin Green

Summary: Sebastian is none too pleased to discover you've borrowed Garreth's jumper after his experimental potion ruined your usual uniform. Your duelling practice threatens to turn into a falling out.

Seb's POV

Sebastian Sallow x Ravenclaw F!MC

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, 7th year, aged-up characters, jealousy, CMNF, Seb being toxic

Word count: 5129

Sebastian owed you the world. He would be rotting in Azkaban if it wasn’t for you. He’d spent all of sixth year trying to earn the second chance you’d given him. He helped you on every new mission to root out the last of the Ashwinders or chase off poachers. He helped you with homework. He practically followed you around like a lost puppy, or so Imelda would say. But he couldn’t help if he wanted to be around you all the time.

He'd grown to have quite the crush on you. Not that he’d ever admit it. He didn’t want you to think everything he did for you was a ploy for your affections. Besides, he knew how you felt about him. He’d find you slumped against Ominis as you both napped against a wall. He saw how you’d ruffle Garreth’s hair when you teased him. You gave Natty and Poppy hugs constantly. Even Imelda would get a punch to the arm or a squeeze of her cheeks, much to her dismay. But you never touched him. Not on purpose, anyway.

There was the odd brush of a hand as you trekked through the forest or press of your sides together while hiding from dark wizards or dangerous beasts. But, unlike the rest of your friends, you seemed averse to touch him. He’d dream about it being different sometimes. The heat of your hands sinking into his arms as he tangled your hair around his fingers. Your hot mouth on his neck. The warmth of your body flush against his.

There was a chill that had sunk into his bones ever since he used that damned relic. He felt certain you could warm him in a way blankets, cloaks, and the common room fire always failed. Their heat couldn’t reach deep enough. But you. You would seep into his very soul. He was sure of it.

He wondered if you could feel the chill. If that was what made you loathe to touch him. He worried further if you were simply repulsed by him – by the things you now knew him to be capable of. Maybe you only kept him close to ensure he didn’t slip back into dark magic.

He knew any further misdeeds of his would weigh on your conscience. You would blame yourself for letting him walk free. So, he was determined to ensure that you didn’t regret your choice. He hadn’t even touched a dark tome since the end of fifth year. Not just for you. He’d realized how much he almost lost due to the seductive forces of malevolent magic and decided to stop before he made even worse mistakes. That didn’t mean he’d given up on curing Anne, of course. He was searching for any sort of unusual medicine that might help her. He’d written healers across the continent about her symptoms to see if they had any ideas. So far, he hadn’t had any luck, but he held out hope.

You helped him, too. You spent every spare moment sat across from him at a library table, reading old healer manuals and texts on curse breaking. You’d even gotten Professor Weasley to help tutor you on the latter subject. Sebastian would’ve felt guilty if he didn’t love spending the time with you so much. He cherished every moment spent with you, partly because he feared that, at any moment, you might cut him out – that his sins would catch up with him, and you’d abandon him.

He couldn’t take the thought of not having you in his life. He was paranoid about someone stealing you away. As he entered potions class, he was faced with one of the many things that made him nervous about the prospect.

You were already at your station, which you shared with Garreth.

That day, you were revising brewing veritaserum before you would learn to make the antidote next class. Sebastian didn’t like the mischievous look on the ginger’s face as he whispered to you.

You just rolled your eyes at him.

“Good morning, Sebastian!” you said with a bright smile when you noticed him.

“Hello, MC,” he replied, returning your grin. “Still on for some duelling practice this evening?”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” you vowed.

He beamed at you. “Brilliant! Meet you after dinner, then?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan,” you replied.

Sebastian’s gaze flicked over to your tablemate. His smile vanished. “Weasley.”

“Sallow,” the gregarious Gryffindor replied coolly.

The lesson was torture. Despite having learned the potion the previous year, Sebastian almost mucked it up three separate times. He even almost used a fwooper feather instead of jobberknoll. He kept getting distracted looking over at your station. Garreth kept leaning over and whispering to you, and you kept giggling in response. Smarmy git should focus on his studies more, Sebastian thought.

Suddenly, a cyan plume of steam rose from Garreth’s cauldron, forming a cloud overhead. Blue slime began raining down on your whole station. You shrieked.

“Whoops! That wasn’t supposed to happen!” Garreth said as he stared curiously at his cauldron.

Sharp quickly vanished the sludge from the cauldron, but the cloud kept growing. “Everyone out!” he growled before looking pointedly at Garreth and MC. “Except you two.”

The professor sounded exasperated. Sebastian was taken out in the current of fleeing students. As he left, he could see Sharp casting several spells at the cloud in vain. He could also see you were splattered in blue goo.

“I don’t know why Sharp is punishing you for Garreth’s idiocy,” Sebastian groused as you both walked from the Great Hall to the Undercroft. You were goo-free now, fortunately.

“Well, I did dare him to brew it,” you admitted.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “You really shouldn’t encourage him. He’s a hazard.”

You shrugged. “It was so boring, though. It’s worth the detention.”

Sebastian frowned harder at the thought of you and Garreth sat together in detention.  “What time is that again?” he asked.

You sighed. “Eight,” you replied before stepping into the old clock.

Sebastian followed close behind you. “I’ll have to make quick work of you, then,” he teased.

You sent him a scandalized glance over your shoulder. “Merlin, that sounds a bit rude, doesn’t it?” you replied.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that!” he said in an exasperated tone, but his cheeks coloured, nonetheless. He hoped it was too dark for you to tell. “Besides, I’m not falling for your innocent Ravenclaw act.”

You spun on your heel and batted your lashes affectedly at him. It still made his heart race. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently before shooting him a sarcastic smile. “Now are you going to keep prattling on or ‘make quick work of me’?”

Sebastian’s voice caught in his throat as a string of lewd images flashed through his mind – mostly of you on top of or bent over the desk you were walking towards. His ears were burning as you smirked at him.

“Snake got your tongue?” you asked, amused.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “No,” he said lamely as he unhooked his robes. He draped them over a crate.

You shed your own robe, as well, tossing it over the chair as you always did. You began rolling your oversized sleeves up past your elbows.

Sebastian saw red, literally and figuratively. “What the fuck is that?” he hissed.

You looked down at the crimson jumper and then back up at him. “What?” you said brusquely. “My shirt was stained from the goo, so Garreth lent me his jumper. So, no fire spells today, please and thank you.”

Sebastian’s jaw tensed. “That looks absolutely ridiculous,” he said harshly.

You shrugged. “Better than looking like I have doxy sick all over me,” you argued. “Now stop being so childish. It’s not like I’ve switched houses. It’s just a jumper.”

“People exchange scarves when they’re courting,” he said. “You look like you’ve gone off and shagged him in a broom cupboard!”

“Go fuck yourself, Sebastian,” you replied acerbically. He could tell you were more upset than you were letting on. Your shoulders were tight, and your jaw was clenched. There was a fire smouldering in your eyes. He was surprised you hadn’t–

With a quick flick of your wand, you sent a nonverbal blasting curse at him. It hit him in the shoulder, leaving a large but minor burn. Your nonverbal spells were always weaker. “Ow!” he whinged. “That’s hardly sporting!”

“Well, you’re an arsehole. You don’t deserve me being sporting,” you bit back.

“Have it your way,” he growled before send a slew of spells in your direction.

You blocked the first three and dodged out of the way of the last one, which was a blasting curse of his own. “Oi! I said no fire!” you barked, glancing down to check for scorch marks.

Sebastian glared at you. “Oh, yes, I’d hate for your little keepsake to be damaged!”

He sent two more blasting curses at you. You dove, rolling out of their path. When you got back to your feet, you started your counterattack with a stunner. “You. Are. So. Frustrating!”

You punctuated every word with a basic cast.

“I’m frustrating?” he bellowed. His eyes darkened as he prowled in a circle around you, poised to strike the instant your arm twitched. “You are the most infuriating witch I’ve ever met!”

You rolled your eyes. You pivoted to stay facing him as he stalked around you. “You’re the one upset about a bloody jumper!”

“Well, you’re the one acting like it belongs in the deepest vault at Gringotts,” he shot back.

You scoffed. “What do you even care?”

He cared that it was Garreth sodding Weasley’s jumper and as red as his stupid hair.

He cared that you were acting like some moon-eyed, besotted little girl.

He cared that, while you wouldn’t even touch him, you were pleased as punch to be wearing another man’s clothes.

“I don’t care,” he asserted, losing most of his venom as he aimed for nonchalance. “It’s just…embarrassing.”

“Well, if I’m so embarrassing–” you started, hurling an exploding charm at him. He dodged it, and it blew apart a crate, instead. “–then you don’t need to be seen with me.”

You hit him with a banishing charm he was too stunned to dodge. He flew back into a large stack of old books, scattering them all over the floor. “What are you saying?” he asked as he scrambled back to his feet. Fear had edged into his voice.

“I’m saying you don’t bloody owe me anything!” you fumed amidst sending a flurry of spells at his head. He blocked them all and even sent back some spells of his own. You growled in rage as a severing charm caught your arm. “If you hate me so much, then you can fuck right off! I won’t make you hang around.”

You felt like your shoulder might pop right out with the force you used slashing your wand through the air. Your spells deflected off Sebastian’s shield charm or hit random object across the room as he evaded them. By the time you stopped casting, several small piles of rubble were smouldering and you were panting to catch your breath.

You expected a counterattack, but Sebastian dropped his wand as soon as you stopped.

His whole face had fallen. “I didn’t…I don’t hate you,” he said quietly as he stepped forward through the tattered books and splintered wood. You let your wand arm drop.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you spat as he approached.

“How could you think I hate you? I–” He choked back the words. “I care about you so much.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Not more than you hate Gryffindors, apparently,” you said bitterly.

“The only reason I put up with that self-righteous lot is for you!” he said, jabbing a finger into your chest. You took a step back. “You’re the one that can’t seem to stand being around me.”

You rolled your eyes. “How d’you figure that?” you asked, incredulous.

“I’m the only person you keep at arm’s length. You snuggle up to Ominis like you’re a couple of crup puppies. You, Natty, and Poppy are practically conjoined twins. You play with Weasley’s stupid ginger hair all the time – and you’re in his sodding jumper. You’re even touchy with Imelda. And you act like I’d burn you or give you some incurable disease if you got too close.”

“You’re insane! I…I don’t do that,” you said, but your voice faltered.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “You’re not hiding your little crush from anyone, love,” he bit out, making you blush madly. “It’s rather obvious that you’re smitten with Weasley. But the point is–”

“I don’t have feelings for Garreth,” you interjected.

“Yeah, obviously,” he said sarcastically, giving the hem of the jumper a swift tug.

He pulled harder than he’d meant to, sending you stumbling forward into him. You let out a little gasp as you smacked into his chest. He caught you by the arms to steady you. You hissed in pain, and Sebastian immediately released you. There was blood on his right hand.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” he said, quickly reaching into his pocket. He took out a phial of green liquid. He pulled the stopper out with his teeth, avoiding using his bloodied hand, and passed it to you.

You took the potion from him gingerly, and he noted how you carefully avoided brushing his fingers. You downed the brew in one gulp. His eyes caught on the column of your neck as you swallowed. He blinked and forced himself to look away.

You returned the empty phial, and he pocketed it. He stepped closer before carefully pulling the cut in your sleeve apart to inspect your skin. It was already mended.

He turned his head to your face, examining you with concern marring his features. “Does it still hurt?”

You stared at him with wide eyes. “Um, no. It’s fine now…thank you,” you said, looking down and taking a step backwards.

Sebastian huffed as you pulled away from him – like you always did. “That is exactly what I’m talking about!”

You furrowed your brow. “What is?”

“You’re constantly putting space between us,” he said. His breath caught as a realization struck him. “Are…are you afraid of me?”

“Afraid of you?” you asked like it was a laughable idea.

He ran his left hand through his hair. “Well, if it’s not that and you don’t hate me, then what is it?” He was clearly exasperated.

You stared up at him, biting your lip anxiously. You let your gaze fall again, landing on his bloody palm. You scourgified his hand for him, since his wand was still lying on the floor amongst the wreckage. He waited out your silence. “I just…” You took a deep breath. “It’s difficult for me to be close to you.”

You glanced up at him. He looked gutted. He stayed rigid, even though what he wanted most was to reach out to you. “But why? What did I do? I’ll fix it, I promise! Just tell me what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Seb,” you said, unable to stop the flush from coming to your cheeks. “It’s just hard because it’s not the same with you. I…I like you. And I know you don’t like me. Obviously. But it just hurts to be close to you when it can’t be in the way I want.”

Sebastian blinked rapidly. He looked stunned. “What?” he nearly yelled.

“Please don’t make it a big deal,” you pled. “It’s really not.”

Sebastian was still reeling. “You like me? As in fancy me?”

You just nodded.

In a flash, he had your face in his hands and his lips on yours. He kissed you fiercely, and the warmth of your lips spread through his whole face and down his neck. The heat from your cheeks seeped into his palms. He pulled back before you could even reciprocate. You just gaped at him.

“Why on earth would you think I don’t like you?” he asked, bewildered.

“I heard you telling Isaac Cooper last week that I’m a terrible dancer and he should ask Natty to the Halloween dance, instead,” you said, looking at your shoes.

Sebastian rolled his eyes even as he stroked his thumbs over your cheeks fondly. “Because I didn’t want to watch him spin you around the Great Hall all night or snog you behind the jack-o’-lanterns. Because I can’t stand seeing you with anyone else.”

“You mean you were jealous?” you asked. You gasped. “That’s why you’re so peeved over a silly jumper!”

You were wearing an arrogant smirk now.

Sebastian glared at you. “Obviously, you silly witch,” he said grumpily. “Now take the ruddy thing off! I’m not kissing you again while you’re in it.”

“Is that so?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “But it’s so cozy. And it smells like butterscotch and sarsaparilla. It’s quite nice, don’t you think?”

You were biting back a smile, but Sebastian wasn’t amused.

His hands dropped from your face. “No, I don’t,” he gritted out. “Off. Now.”

You gave a shocked gasp. “That’s no way to treat a lady, Sebastian!” you teased.

He narrowed his gaze at you. “You can take off the jumper, or I can do it for you,” he said darkly. “But I can’t promise I’ll stop there.”

Your eyes sparked with excitement. “And you’ll overpower me how, exactly?” you asked with a cocky grin. “You don’t even have your wand.”

He fisted a hand into your hair as he leaned in, letting his lips ghost over your ear. “I don’t need it to make you beg,” he replied in a low voice. You’d already admitted how affected you were by him. He was feeling rather confident.

His words shot straight to your core. He leaned back to watch your reaction. You licked your lips as his eyes dragged over you. Grabbing the hem with both hands, he pulled the jumper off over your head. He flung it across the room. You were left in your thin combinations and trousers. Immediately, his lips were back on yours. He held your hips as he backed you toward the desk. His fingers flexed into your curves as he memorized the feel of them.

As your bum hit the desk, his hands slid up your back, leaving a trail of fire. He pressed his body flush against yours, eliminating the remaining space between you, and he gave an involuntary shiver. Holding you was like stepping into a warm home after a hike through a snowy forest. Breaking your kiss, Sebastian dipped his head to press his lips along your collar bone. His tongue darted out, tasting the salt on your skin. A moan escaped your lips, and he smirked against you.

“Shut up,” you grumbled.

“I didn’t say anything, love,” he replied before nipping at your skin.

You breathed in a sharp gasp before he recaptured your lips. He slid his tongue forward, licking into your mouth. He groaned with need as he tasted you, whispers of the tea and chocolate pudding you’d had at dinner meeting his tongue. He’d imagined it on countless nights, but now he had the real thing. Then he felt you smirk.

He brought one of his hands around to your front and palmed your breast through the thin cotton covering it. He could feel your nipple perk up at his touch.

“Sebastian,” you whimpered as you panted for breath.

Much better. He quickly began on the buttons lining the front of your undergarment. “Need something, darling?” he asked as he pulled your top open. He brought his hands to cup under both breasts as he kissed down your sternum. He peppered kiss over each mound, avoiding where you’d be most sensitive.

You were keening continuously. Your hands tangled in his hair. He could feel you trying to guide him gently to where you wanted him.

“You need to say it, love,” he said firmly.

You let out a frustrated whine. “I want you to k-kiss me,” you managed.

Sebastian kissed your lips briefly. “Like that? Or here?” He kissed your shoulder.

You shook your head urgently. Your teeth had sunk deep into your bottom lip. The desperation in your face made Sebastian’s cock jump.

He kissed the inside of your breast, then looked at you expectantly.

You let out a pathetic groan. “Please, Sebastian.”

Your whole face was scarlet, though he wasn’t sure if it was from need or embarrassment.

He took mercy on you and latched onto your nipple, massaging his tongue into it as his hand kneaded your other breast. Your moan echoed through the underground chamber. He worked your clothes off your shoulders as his tongue flicked back and forth over your nipple. Your top half was stripped bare. Sebastian released your breast and leaned back to admire you. He took in every contour with reverent attention. His saliva glistened on your skin, but the sheen was already fading.

Using your purchase in his mane, you pulled Sebastian into another heated kiss. He let you explore his mouth with your tongue as he worked to undo your trousers. He moved down to your shoulder, tracing down the long lines of your neck on the way there. He sucked a dark mark into the top of your shoulder, a much more lasting sign of his presence with you.

Your hands shot down to his shoulders, and your nails dug into his jacket. He slid his own hand into your unbuttoned trousers, slipping underneath your combinations and down to your core. He groaned at how slick it was.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You feel so fucking good.”

You moaned as his fingers slid through your swollen folds. He found your nub at the apex and stroked over it languidly. Your hands on his shoulders tightened, and your head fell back. Your breathing grew more and more ragged as he switched to quick little circles.

“Oh gods, Sebastian!” you cried.

“That’s it,” he praised. “I want you to come for me, MC. Can you come like this?”

You nodded eagerly as a whine escaped you. Your lip was back trapped between your teeth, and your eyes were screwed shut.

“Look at me,” Sebastian demanded. He wanted to watch you fall apart. Your thighs were trembling, and he suspected you were close.

Your eyes snapped open.

“Good girl,” he said. “Let me see you. See what I do to you.”

“Fuck, Seb! I…I’m…” you tried. You cut yourself off with a cry of pleasure.

Your hips jerked against Sebastian’s hand. Your eyes had glazed over, but you kept them open. You keened and panted as your orgasm flowed through you.

“Thank you. You’re so beautiful,” Sebastian whispered before pressing a kiss to your temple as he slid his hand out of your trousers.

You laughed. “I should be thanking you.”

He gripped your waistband with both hands, hooking his thumbs underneath your combinations, as well. “May I?”

“Gods, yes!” you replied.

He tugged the clothes down your legs, crouching down and helping you step out of them along with your shoes and stockings. He kissed your thigh tenderly on the way back up. As he stood, you began unbuttoning his waistcoat and tugging his shirt out of his trousers.

Just then, your wand started buzzing in your pile of discarded clothes. Your head snapped in its direction. “Fuck! I’ve got to get going,” you said.

Sebastian pinned your hips to the desk with his own. “If you think I’m letting you run off to see Weasley before I’m through with you…”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s detention, not a social call.”

His jaw tensed. “We can do this here, or I can come and fuck you in front of Weasley and Sharp. And I don’t think you want to be expelled, so you’re not leaving until my cum is running down your thighs so that the next time you think of accepting a jumper from Garreth bloody Weasley, you’ll remember the feeling of my cock inside you and your tits in my mouth and think better of how you cover them.”

You were staring up at him with lust-blown eyes. “Merlin, you’re such a prick!” you chided, even as you were undoing his belt. You added under your breath, “It shouldn’t be so hot.”

Sebastian grabbed you under your arse and lifted you onto the edge of the desk. He leaned over you as he gave a punishing kiss, laying you back in the process. Gods, he would snog you for hours if you had the time. As he stood back up, he undid his trousers and pulled himself out of them. He held your thigh with one hand and the base of his cock with the other. He allowed himself to stroke his head through your slick folds a few times before lining himself up at your entrance.

You were propped up on your elbows and staring in awe at where your bodies were about to be joined.

Sebastian pressed forward, sinking into your heat. Finally. It was like sliding into a warm bath after a rough fight. “Merlin, it’s like you were fucking made for me, MC!”

Every thrust into you was pure bliss. Your tits bounced with every rock into you, and Sebastian couldn’t resist bending down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth again. He was pleased with the moans that poured from your lips. The pace of his hips suffered, and he didn’t have the time for it, but he kept sucking on your perfect breast, anyway. And he couldn’t find it in himself to feel sorry about it. It was the first time he got to have you – though, it definitely wouldn’t be the last if he had anything to say about it – and he was going to enjoy it fully, damn it!

He moved to kiss your lips, slipping his tongue back into your mouth to remind himself how you taste. Then, he finally righted himself and focused on the task at hand. With a bruising grip on your hips, he pounded into you over and over. He watched as your body clung to him while he pulled back before disappearing inside once more. All he could think about was filling you up. Marking his territory from the inside out. Because now that he had you, he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers. You were finally his – just like he’d been yours since fifth year.

“You feel incredible, Seb!” you moaned, your back arching off the desk as you’d long abandoned propping yourself up.

“I’m gonna make you come again,” he vowed in a strangled voice, making you whimper in anticipation. “That’s it. Be a good girl and come on my cock.”

He released one of your legs, which wrapped around his waist as he thumbed your clit. Your breath hitched. “Fuck, Seb!”

Your thighs began to tremble, and your chest was covered in a sheen of sweat. Sebastian’s teeth sank into his lip. You looked positively delicious as you neared your peak. The noises you made were obscene. Your body writhed in pleasure. Your cunt was clamped around him. He felt ready to explode. But he knew you were close, so he did everything he could to hold off his own climax. But it was so hard. You were in ecstasy because of him. The fact made his head spin and his cock ache.

Your breathing halted altogether as your body tensed, and then suddenly you let out a keening cry and gasped for breath. Your walls fluttered around him, and Sebastian went rigid as he came with you. Waves of pleasure crashed through him as he hissed out a string of expletives.

He collapsed forward, exhausted. You drew him into a kiss with a hand on his cheek. It was slow but still full of passion as your mouths melded together. He rested his forehead on yours and panted in your breaths like he was stealing the air straight from your lungs.

“Fuck,” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah,” you agreed, a smile tugging at your lips.

He kissed you again, and then nuzzled his nose against yours when he pulled back. “I love you.” The words had bubbled up, unable to be contained in his throat. All air left his lungs with their escape. Instead, they filled with panic.

“I love you, too, Sebastian,” you admitted. “I think I have for a long time.”

He could breathe again. He scooped you into his arms and just held you against his chest. He never wanted to let you go. He pressed a kiss to the love bite he’d left on your shoulder. You let out a contented sigh as your hands rubbed up and down his back lazily.

Suddenly, you tensed. “Fuck! I’ve got to go!”

You slid out from under him and began collecting your clothes. Sebastian fished his wand out of the wreckage and summoned the jumper. He mended the cut from his severing charm and vanished your blood from the sleeve. He’d rather rip it to shreds, but he knew you’d want to return it intact. He slid off his suit jacket and transfigured it into a Slytherin jumper.

“Have you seen–?” you started as you looked up after doing up your trousers. Your face broke into amusement as you saw Sebastian holding out the emerald jumper to you.

You took it and slid it over your head.

Sebastian smirked at you. “Green’s much more your colour,” he asserted.

“That makes two of us,” you quipped, winking at him as you pulled your cloak on.

You snagged Garreth’s jumper from Sebastian and rushed for the door.

“What? No kiss goodbye?” he asked.

You spun around, smirking at him as you walked backwards. “I’ll need to wash up properly after detention. You can meet me in the prefect’s bathroom. I think you’ll quite enjoy just how – and where – I’d like to kiss you.”

Sebastian’s pulse jumped. His eyes darkened as they fell on your lips – his witch’s lips. He was still speechless as you slipped through the gate, chuckling at him.

Several thoughts were running through his head all at once. The first was that Ominis would kill him if he found the Undercroft in this state. The second was that you were in need of a date to the Halloween Dance. The third, and most important, was that he should thank Garreth for his inadvertent assistance in getting you to admit your feelings for Sebastian – and tell him to keep his sodding wardrobe to himself.

[high-fructose-jay-syrup]

in the glinda-elphaba-fiyero polyamorous triad, glinda and fiyero are the first couple to get together-- of course they are. he's perfect, she's perfect, they're perfect together. blue and pink, gold and pearls, the perfect model of upper-class heterosexual perfection.

it's only a couple months into their relationship when fiyero finally confesses to glinda that he has feelings for elphaba too. a few months further down the road and this might have driven them apart completely, but they're still swept up enough in one another that they have the motivation to try and make an open relationship work. so fiyero starts dating elphaba, and elphaba and glinda are fiendishly jealous of each other, yes, but the good thing about having started out as enemies is that you know that your friendship can survive a little mutual hatred. so they quarrel, and they stop talking for awhile, and they sometimes fall back into the same petty revenge as their first days at shiz, but they always come back to each other. and along the way they do start to figure out this communication thing, and maybe the shiz library has a few hidden books on polyamory somewhere, and eventually the fights and jealousy do start to ebb and they work their way to being a reasonably happy polycule. two couples, two best friends. this is all they've ever hoped for, isn't it?

it takes years before glinda and elphaba come to terms with their feelings for one another. elphaba a little sooner than glinda-- she grew up in a world that was slightly more open to these kinds of things, and at a class where marriage was a little more about love than status, and she's always kind of known that she liked girls too, though she wasn't about to shout it to the rooftops at conservative old shiz. but glinda, good upper-class glinda, has had it drilled into her from the time she could toddle that she must find herself a suitable male match for marriage, regardless of what she might actually feel for him. she assumed that this game of finding the perfect ways to flirt and flounce when she talked to boys was how everyone navigated the dating scene, that kissing wasn't much more than a show you put on to demonstrate how in love you were, that "marriage takes work" (as her parents always told her) meant that you were just meant to act hopelessly in love with somebody even when your entire body was screaming at you that something was wrong. it takes a lot of late-night tipsy conversation, with elphaba, yes, but also with her other female friends who are actually attracted to boys, for her to even start to realize that she might be a little different. that it isn't normal to be repulsed by your partner's touch, that some women actually do enjoy intimacy with their male partners, that not everyone has been spending her whole life admiring girls and valuing her close female friendships miles above any romantic conquests and always feeling like something about how she was expected to behave was just a little bit... off.

a drunken flirtation with elphaba late one night, followed by falling asleep in the same bed (not uncommon for them, but there's something different about it this time around), followed by some very painful and honest conversation in the bright of morning when they can't hide behind darkness and alcohol any longer, and glinda and elphaba are finally realizing what they've felt for each other for years. it takes some conversation with fiyero, of course, and glinda needs at least some time before she can convince herself to take the leap, but when she kisses elphaba for the first time... it's like a world that's been off-kilter for twenty-three years has finally fallen into place. she and elphaba are in love, and with fiyero they make a happy triad. everything is perfect.

except... it isn't, not quite. elphaba makes her happier than she's ever dreamed she could be, and fiyero... is there. glinda struggles mightily with her feelings about the relationship; she's finally admitted to liking girls, but despite all her conversation about how attraction to men is supposed to feel, she's not quite ready to admit that she and fiyero were never right for one another. after all, they've been together for years at this point-- attraction or not, compatibility or not, they've forged a bond that glinda doesn't want to break. so for a few months more she keeps up the facade, delighting in everything elphaba and resigning herself to fiyero, explaining away the difference with old relationships are just like that, of course you won't feel the same spark that you feel for elphaba right now.

in the end, it's actually fiyero who brings it up first, hesitantly asking glinda if she thinks they've ever been right for one another, really? now that he knows she likes girls, he's starting to wonder if she ever really liked him that way at all? and if he's honest, though he's always found her attractive and enjoyed her company as a friend, there's a certain depth of relationship that he's never quite achieved with her (and has with elphaba, though he can't bring himself to be that brutally honest). and finally glinda admits it, that she's never liked boys. that yes, they have the sort of strong bond that comes with a years-long relationship of any form, but she can't pretend it's a romantic one anymore. it's when elphaba points out that nobody says she and fiyero aren't allowed to still be close friends that the world finally clicks into place for glinda for the second time. she breaks it off with fiyero that very afternoon, and everything is perfect.

except, of course it isn't, because they are all human. there are still fights, hurt feelings, toes being stepped on, old traumas coming up, mismatches in personality, imperfect people doing imperfect things. but somewhere along the way glinda's finally started to stop seeing perfection as the metric for a good life. despite the day-to-day challenges, she is content-- more content than she's ever been, even when she thought things were perfect. she has elphaba, and she has fiyero, and elphaba and fiyero have each other, and everything is not perfect, but glinda upland is happy. and that's what matters.

[kikyoupdates]

For Tomorrow's Sake ⭑˚💫⭑ 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑙𝑦-𝑘𝑛𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑜

various!jjk x f!reader

reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn

You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes.All for the sake of a better tomorrow.

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It seems like Naoya is in the middle of an existential crisis, and you honestly don’t even feel guilty about it.   

He keeps looking down at his hand with a look of sheer disbelief, as if the injury might magically reappear if he stares at it long enough. You suppose, in his mind, your existence alone contradicts everything his clan has instilled in him. He’s only six years old, but a certain worldview has already been pushed onto him. And now, you’re watching it unravel in real time.   

Much to Naoya’s regret, he still isn’t able to come up with what to say, and by that point, it’s already too late.   

Zen’in Naobito steps into the room.   

Toji’s face immediately twists into a scowl. Well, not that he wasn’t scowling before, but it’s suddenly way more pronounced. Naobito is strong, of course, but if Toji were to let loose and fight him without holding anything back… he’d definitely kick his ass.   

Naobito is younger than when he appears in the canon series, but other than that, his appearance is largely unchanged. He’s even carrying a flask with him, the goddamn drunkard. The first thing he does upon plopping down on the cushion seat in front of you is throw his head back and take a big swig of god knows what alcoholic concoction he’s got in there.   

“So,” he eventually says, glancing from Toji, to Satoru, then to you . “What’s this nonsense I hear about training someone from the Gojo Clan?”   

“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Toji replies with an icy gaze. “This girl asked me to train her, and I agreed.”   

“Why?”   

“Just because I felt like it.” 

“Ha,” Naobito scoffs. “Being an embarrassment to our clan wasn’t enough for you, it seems. You’re determined to make fools out of us all. To go as far as to sell yourself out to the Gojo Clan… how distasteful.”   

He proceeds to take another large gulp from his flask, and you wonder how he manages to stay somewhat sober with all the drinking he does. Well, that’s beside the point. You can practically feel the hatred radiating off Toji right now. This whole meeting wasn’t supposed to even happen canonically, and you actually wonder if Toji might lose control and start some shit. There’s really no guarantee how this will go.   

Still, you’d rather not create even more strife between clans, so you offer a reassuring smile as you gently squeeze Toji’s hand. Perhaps you’re reading into things too much, but the gesture seems to pacify him, at least for a little bit.   

“And you ,” Naobito says, looking even more repulsed all of a sudden. He’s staring pointedly in Satoru’s direction now. “I don’t recall inviting the esteemed Gojo Satoru for a visit. You just waltzed right in without permission, did you?”   

He really hates Satoru’s guts. Asshole leaders like him only care about one thing, and it’s elevating their own status. He can’t stand how much power and influence Satoru has, despite his young age. Jealousy, hatred, and bitterness seems to run rampant in the world of jujutsu sorcerers. Why can’t everyone just be chill?   

“I came here to protect [Name],” Satoru states, visibly unfazed.   

“Why would the girl need your protection? What exactly are you accusing the Zen’in Clan of?”   

“Nothing, really. I’m not sure why you’re getting so defensive. Unless you really did have something unpleasant in mind.”   

…ugh. The tension is so thick you wouldn’t even be able to cut it with a knife. You’ll need a goddamn chainsaw at this rate. As much as you trust in Satoru, he unfortunately has a tendency to pick fights left and right. Both as a child and an adult.  

You can see Naobito’s expression taking a slow and steady turn for the worse, but before he can respond, someone else cuts in.  

“That girl, [Name]... she knows how to use reverse cursed technique,” Naoya mumbles.   

You blink. Huh. Honestly, you thought you’d rendered him mute for the rest of this visit. He looked like he’d gone into shock. Actually, you forgot that he was still here at all, because Naobito’s presence just about takes up the whole room.   

“What?” Naobito frowns, casting his son a glance. “ She does? Don’t be ridiculous. Her cursed energy is incredibly scarce. She clearly doesn’t have any skill or talent. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have chosen someone as inept as Toji to train her.”   

“I-It’s true,” Naoya insists. He pauses for a moment, clearly hesitant, but he eventually works up the nerve to point to the broken plate lying on the table. “I… accidentally broke that plate and cut myself on it. And then she healed me. I still can’t really believe it, but… it definitely happened.”   

It’s rather satisfying, you have to admit. Being able to render someone like Naobito speechless. Then again, you seem to do that to pretty much everyone. Maybe you secretly do have an innate technique. The ability to confuse the absolute shit out of people.  

“Impossible,” Naobito glares. “You must have played some sort of trick on Naoya. He’s still young and foolish, so he doesn’t know any better.”   

“It’s not nice to say that your own son is foolish,” you frown. “I mean, I kind of called him stupid earlier myself, but that was for a different reason.”   

“You called my son stupid ?”   

“...nevermind.”   

Toji barely manages to stifle a chuckle, and Naobito takes yet another swig of his drink— angrily , this time.   

“I don’t mean to cause any trouble,” you say. “But I need Toji to train me. He fights with cursed tools, and I’m trying to learn to do the same. I have to do this. In order to gain the ability to use reverse cursed technique, I made a Binding Vow. I’m not allowed to use my own cursed energy to inflict harm upon anyone, or I’ll instantly die. Toji is an expert at using weapons. No one else even comes close to being as good as he is. So… please let him continue training me. I really need his help.”   

“Whether he supports it or not, I’m going to keep training you regardless,” Toji scoffs.  

You know he will, but that being said, you’re not trying to start an all-out clan war. You’re supposed to be the peacekeeper in this world. That would be a little, um, counterproductive .   

“A Binding Vow,” Naobito mumbles. He crosses his arms and laughs, crudely. “Ha! I knew there had to be a catch. You’re far too weak to have learned such an advanced technique through normal means. So, you’ve staked your life on it, huh? I suppose I should applaud your determination, if nothing else.”   

You grin. “I’ll take the applause, thank you very much. Go on. You can start clapping now. Don’t be shy.”   

Much to your dismay, he doesn’t start clapping. Talk about weak-ass applause. It’s like he’s not even trying.   

You don’t notice it since you’re so focused on Naobito, but all the while, Naoya’s eyes are widening more and more. He seriously doesn’t know what to make of you. He thought you were all out of surprises, but apparently, he was wrong.   

A Binding Vow where you’ll instantly die if you break the terms of your contract? He’s never heard of such a thing. Jujutsu sorcerers actively risk their lives by fighting cursed spirits, yes, but no one has ever gone that far. What if you hurt someone with your cursed energy by accident? One tiny misstep, a single moment of negligence… and just like that, you’re dead ?   

“Why would you make a vow like that?” Naoya suddenly asks, his voice wavering as he utters the words.   

It’s not the first time someone’s asked you that question, and you doubt it’ll be the last. But it’s fine. You’ll explain yourself time and time again if that’s what it takes. There’s no shame in the choice you made. You believe in it wholeheartedly, and you will never, ever regret it.   

“So that I can help people,” you say simply. “I’m learning to fight with weapons so that I can hold my own against cursed spirits, but the most important thing is keeping everyone alive, right? That’s what I want to prioritize. Making sure that no one has to suffer.”  

Naoya’s cheeks redden, and suddenly, it’s as if a wave has crashed into him, drowning him in shame.  

He was so quick to ridicule you. To dismiss you as helpless and weak. He always thought that being strong meant the ability to fight and overcome opponents. At least, that’s what the Zen’in Clan has always taught him. But maybe… there are different kinds of strength.  

Maybe kindness is a strength of its own.   

The room goes silent for a while. You stare right into Naobito’s eyes, refusing to look away for even a moment. You may appear to him as a child, but he needs to see how serious you are about this. It doesn’t matter if he dislikes you. You don’t crave his approval. But at the very least, he better not stand in your way.   

“...fine.”   

You blink, somewhat taken aback. Naobito throws his head back and downs the remnants of his drink, then wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.  

“Do as you please,” he says, already standing up. “I won’t involve myself with this farce anymore. It’s a waste of time. As far as I’m concerned… neither you nor Toji are proper jujutsu sorcerers.”   

He leaves without another word. It figures that he made sure to sneak in one last insult before disappearing, but you don’t really care. At least he’s not going out of his way to persecute you, and for that, you’re thankful.  

“Phew, what a relief,” you sigh. “That went a lot better than I was expecting, to be honest. Probably because I’m so charming and charismatic. People find it difficult to say no to me.”  

Toji chuckles, and Satoru does the same. Naoya is still in the room, unable to overcome his disbelief, and you glance over at him, grinning widely.   

“Right, Naoya?” you muse. “Don’t you agree that I’m super charismatic? And charming? And pretty?”   

“I see you added something else at the end,” Satoru snorts.   

“Well, I only said it because it’s true.”  

The longer Naoya stares at you, the more twisted up and funny his stomach feels. Also, his chest is awfully tight. And warm. Does he have a fever? Is he getting sick?   

“Y-You’re weird,” is all Naoya can think to reply, and without warning, he books it out of the room.  

He hates that he secretly agrees with everything you just said.  

Especially the part about you being pretty.

You could train for all eternity, but even then, you doubt you'd ever be able to keep up with Toji.   

His Heavenly Restriction is something else. For a human to be able to move the way he does, without even an ounce of cursed energy… it's honestly kind of broken. No wonder the author had to kill him off so quickly. He was way too powerful for his own good.  

“I’m so tired ,” you half-sob, and rather than looking sympathetic, Toji merely chuckles.   

“I thought you were the one who said you'd never complain, no matter how hard it gets,” he teases. “Or did I just imagine that?”  

“I-I’m not complaining. I was just stating a fact. I'm tired, but I never asked for a break or anything! So technically I've stayed true to my word.”  

“If [Name] needs a break, let her take one,” Satoru scowls. “I'll seriously fight you, old man.”  

Toji arches a brow. “Is that a challenge?”  

“Why don't you test your luck and find out?”  

You swear you can see sparks flying between them—and not the good kind. As reassuring as it is to have two of the strongest people on your side, it feels like they're always just shy of clawing each other's throats out.  

Toji rolls his eyes. “Alright, well, since the brat is throwing a fit like always, I guess we can take a small break.”  

“I wasn't throwing a fit, asshole!”  

“This kid’s got a real mouth on him. [Name], are you sure you wouldn't rather pick a better friend? He's kind of annoying.”  

Satoru grits his teeth, just shy of popping a blood vessel, so you hurry to step in before the situation can escalate any further.   

“Toji said I’m allowed to have a break, so let’s all sit down and relax for a bit,” you suggest. “I packed bento boxes for all of us. I’m really proud of how they turned out!”   

You plop down on the grass and start unpacking the provisions you brought along with you for the day. Satoru and Toji both sit down beside you. Other than the fact that they’re still glaring at each other, it kind of looks like you’re all having a picnic together. You still can’t really believe this is actually real life.  

“Here you go, Toji,” you say, passing him a bento box with a bright smile. “You may already be super strong, but even you need your nutrients.”   

“If you say so,” he chuckles. He opens the box up, and you watch as his eyes widen. “Did you really make all of this yourself? Or did someone from the Gojo Clan help you put it together?”  

“I made it all by myself! I like cooking. It’s a talent of mine.”   

You proudly puff out your chest, and Toji can’t help but smile. It’s strange how your boasting comes across as endearing, rather than arrogant or insufferable. Your most impressive talent of all is clearly the fact that you’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger.   

Toji separates his chopsticks, and for some reason, Satoru is staring at him rather intently. He’s not glaring anymore, though. Rather, he looks like he’s determined not to look away, even for a second.   

Toji shrugs before lifting an egg roll to his lips and taking a big bite of it.   

“...”   

It takes a few seconds for him to process everything. At first, he’s just so confused that he doesn’t even understand what he’s tasting right now. The flavors are clashing with each other so forcefully, so violently , that before he even realizes it, he’s spat his food right onto the ground.   

When he looks up, he finds Satoru grinning ear-to-ear.   

“Haha! You really ate it, you stupid old man!” The boy hugs his sides as he throws his head back and lets out another howl of laughter. “Man, your expression is to die for! How is it? It must taste awful, right? Is it so awful that you feel like crying? Hahahahaha!”   

Toji’s expression darkens. He clenches his fists while glaring at Satoru, and he ends up gripping down on his chopsticks so hard that they snap right in half.   

You frown. “Hey, that’s no good, Toji. If you break your chopsticks, you won’t be able to finish your food. Thankfully, I brought spares. Here you go!”   

“No, I’m fine,” Toji insists. His face is several shades paler all of a sudden. “I think… you might be trying to poison me or something.”   

“What are you talking about? My bento box has the same stuff as yours. I just split up the food I cooked into three different boxes.”   

Toji watches, horrified, as you proceed to eat the same egg roll that nearly ended his life just a few moments ago. Unlike him, however, you do it without so much as flinching. In fact, you look like you’re enjoying it.  

“Is she insane?” Toji asks.   

“Probably,” Satoru reluctantly nods. “It was funny watching you eat that, but if you value your life, you’ll stay away from [Name]’s cooking from now on.”  

“Both of you are big babies,” you scoff. “I’ve said it before, but the food I make is ahead of my time. I’m an innovator. Culinary experts would definitely acknowledge my talent. Just ask Gordon Ramsay.”  

“If Gordon Ramsay ever tried your food, I think he’d retire from cooking altogether. That’s just how bad it is.”   

You shrug, unbothered. It’s sad that genius so often goes overlooked, but whatever. You’re not here to be the next MasterChef. You’re here to keep everyone happy and safe, and so far, you’d say you’re off to a good start.   

Eventually, you finish eating, which means your break is over. You let out a faint groan as you stand up. Your muscles are unbelievably sore. Setting aside your weak cursed energy, physically-speaking, you’re stuck in the body of a seven-year-old. Being a badass doesn’t exactly come easily at this age.  

“You’re not getting discouraged, are you?” Toji asks, likely remarking upon your downcast expression. “I hope you didn’t expect to get stronger overnight. It’s going to take more time than that. And it’s up to you not to give up.”   

“I know. I’m not giving up, don’t worry. I wish fighting and stuff came naturally to me… but it’s alright. I’ve got more than enough to be thankful for already. Like the fact that I’m lucky enough to have both of you as my friends.”   

“Huh?” Satoru gapes. “No way! Did you seriously just put me and this old man on the same level? I thought I was your friend, not him!”   

“There’s no rule that you can’t both be my friends. But I guess Toji is more like an older brother,” you acknowledge. “Either way, no matter how many new friends I make, you’ll always be my best friend, Satoru.”  

He crosses his arms and grumbles something under his breath. It’s always a treat to see him act so pouty and adorable. To think that Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, likes you so much that he wants to keep you all to himself.  

“Silly Satoru,” you muse, and without warning, you lean in and kiss him on the cheek.   

“ W-What? !”   

He practically leaps away from you, and his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it. He’s like a little tomato. You can’t help but giggle at his innocence. In spite of the heavy responsibility he’s been burdened with, he’s still just a kid, underneath it all.   

Of course, Toji just watched the whole thing unfold, and he looks less than impressed.   

“Let me know when you two are done kissing each other,” he sighs. “So that we can get back to training.”  

It’s safe to say that Satoru will remember that kiss for the rest of his life.

“...okay, [Name]. You said this machine is the one you had a good feeling about, right? Time to find out.”   

You nod, expression stern, as Toji balances you on his lap, both of you facing towards the machine in question. Toji pushes a few of the buttons to get started, and after a moment’s delay, he reaches out and pulls the lever on the side.   

Toji stares at the machine’s screen, which is shining with bright, fluorescent lights, as he barely even dares to blink.   

One, two, three, four of the same symbol, and… can we get a fifth?   

“Yes!” Toji suddenly exclaims. Echoing his outcry is a message that appears across the machine’s screen—which states that he hasn’t just doubled, or tripled, but rather, quadrupled the money he put in.   

It’s safe to say that your good feeling paid off.   

“Attagirl,” Toji praises, grinning widely as he pats you on the head. You beam up at him, and he scans his card to redeem the rewards he just earned. It’s nice to see him so happy. From what you know, in the canon timeline, there was little to nothing that he actually had to look forward to in life. He was always bitter, jaded, and resentful. Seeing that he’s able to genuinely smile around you makes you happier than you can put into words.  

Unfortunately, not everyone seems to share in your enthusiasm.   

“Excuse me, um, sir…? Th-This is a casino. Children aren’t allowed in here, so I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave…”   

You turn around, locking eyes with a very nervous employee. He’s outright trembling, the poor thing. Probably because Toji is a walking mountain of a man, and it doesn’t help that his eyes are sharp enough to cut glass.   

Toji pockets his casino card and picks you up in his arms. “I’m not leaving yet,” he says. “I’ll be on a win streak today, I can feel it. If I walk out now, it’ll kill my momentum. Also, [Name]’s my good luck charm. Don’t worry about her. She’s a respectful kid. And she’s extremely smart for her age.”   

“It’s true,” you nod eagerly. “I’m way more mature than I look.”   

“Even supposing that’s the case, we simply cannot allow anyone inside the casino unless they’re of legal age,” the employee insists, and you know you aren’t imagining the way he takes a hurried step back when Toji gets out of his seat.   

Toji stares at him for a few moments, which must be increasing the employee’s heart rate exponentially , but after a little while, he just shrugs.   

“Don’t worry about it. Anyways, [Name], where to next? Should I try my hand at blackjack today?”   

“S-Sir!” the employee calls out. He nearly trips over his feet as he (reluctantly) chases Toji through the casino. “Excuse me, sir ! If you don’t leave right now, I’m seriously going to have to call security—”  

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”   

The employee freezes in place, and you watch, somewhat amused, as he glances all around him, trying to locate where the new voice is coming from.   

Eventually, he looks down, only to immediately jump.  

“Ack! There’s another kid? Where the hell are all of you coming from?!”   

“Don’t call security,” the kid—who, of course, is none other than Satoru —repeats. “I’m warning you. Just let the old man redeem his money and then we’ll leave. We’re getting out of here, but if you stir up a fuss, I promise you won’t like what happens.”   

Gojo Satoru is renowned in the world of jujutsu sorcerers. There’s practically no one who hasn’t heard of him. However, in the regular world, filled with regular people, he’s just a kid. He’s not supposed to be particularly remarkable.   

And yet, the longer the employee stares into Satoru’s bright, piercing blue eyes, the more he gets this strange feeling. As if maybe, just maybe, this kid might not just be making empty threats. Maybe getting on his bad side is the wrong move.   

The employee would rather not fuck around and find out.   

“H-He’s just going to redeem his rewards,” the employee swallows, backing away from Satoru in a hurry, the same way he did with Toji a few minutes ago. “After that, he really does have to leave. O-Okay?”   

“But I don’t want to leave,” Toji frowns.   

“It’s okay, Toji,” you reassure, gently cupping his cheek. “We’ll come back another day and sneak in properly. By the time we’re gone, they won’t even know what hit them.”   

“Um, I heard that.”   

“No, you didn’t!”   

Toji lets out a heavy sigh. Regretfully, the fun has already come to an end, but at least he won. You never really thought of yourself as the lucky type, but you suppose you kind of are . After all, you met both Satoru and Toji before the main plot of the story was set to begin. You were fortunate enough to have been born in this world at the ideal time. You could have been isekai’d during the Shibuya Incident. Or worse yet, in the middle of the Culling Game.   

So, yeah. Maybe you really are a good luck charm. Not just Toji’s, though. Satoru’s, too. And hopefully, whoever else you meet from now on.  

You’ll be everyone’s good luck charm.   

It’s hilarious, because you swear the employee’s hair has turned gray in the few minutes since this interaction began. He watches, biting his nails from anxiety and dread, as Toji cashes out for the day, and finally, your mischievous little trio bids farewell to the casino.  

“Do you think we’ve been blacklisted?” you frown.   

“I doubt it,” Satoru says. “I warned that guy not to make a fuss. But even if we are blacklisted, we can just go to another casino. Although I’m not really sure why we have to babysit this old man in the first place…”   

Toji flips through the bills in his hand with a bright expression. He’s not even correcting Satoru for calling him ‘old man’ again. That’s how good of a mood he’s in right now.   

“You did good, [Name],” he praises yet again. “As a reward, how about I get you a treat? What about ice cream? Kids like ice cream, right?”   

“Ice cream sounds perfect,” you grin.   

You proceed to cling onto Toji’s arm while he affectionately ruffles your hair. Satoru watches with a slight pout, as jealous as ever, but as long as you’re happy, he supposes he’s happy too. As long as you’re happy, healthy, and safe. That’s all that matters.   

It’s rather ironic that he’s having these thoughts, because right then and there, he feels not one, but two unfamiliar presences.   

The bastards must think they’re hiding from him. They must think they’re tucked away, out of sight, not at all at risk of being found.   

How dare they underestimate him.   

You and Toji continue walking ahead, but meanwhile, Satoru stops in place, and ever-so-slowly, he turns around. His eyes are gleaming brighter than ever, filled with a hatred so deep, so fierce, that even from this distance, the two assassins can’t help but cower in fear.   

“Weaklings like you would never stand a chance against me,” he mutters. He continues staring, gaze growing darker by the second. “And if you ever dare to lay a hand on [Name]... I’ll kill you faster than you can even blink.”   

They can’t possibly hear what he said from so far away. But it doesn’t matter. All it takes is one glare from Gojo Satoru; one cold, chilling display of strength, and the assassins decide that very second that they’ll never go near him ever again.   

Satoru waits for a few moments, but sure enough, it doesn’t look like they’re going to try anything. Good. They may be weaklings, but at least they’re not entirely stupid. Anyone who would even think of attacking while you’re nearby is either missing a brain, or they have some sort of death wish.   

“Satoru, what’s taking so long?” you call out to him from up ahead. “Didn’t you hear? Toji said he’s buying us ice cream! Come on!”   

It’s amazing just how quickly the darkness in his eyes clears, and instead, a smile rises to his lips. You’re like the sun, shining straight through the clouds, even on the murkiest of days. He swears he’ll never get tired of seeing that pretty smile of yours.   

Satoru pauses for a moment, chuckles inwardly, then runs up to you and grabs you by the hand.

More chapters are available on Quotev and Ao3!

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Hello!

What do you think about people with 8TH house scorpio pluto? I have discovered recently that i have this placement and when i searched for answers on what it is; i usually find a doom and gloom and it’s a strong placement but i couldnt understand why.

Hello, I have that placement too. So what below is a mix of my personal experience and observations of other people who have that placement 🤔

Pluto in 8th house

If you think about the myths of Pluto/Hades, you will understand this placement better. Does Pluto appear frequently in stories? What's his impact on other characters and the world? Pluto in 8H, and in Scorpio to boost, is in his natural subterranean domain, minding his own business, keeping himself away from the usual dramas of the worlds above, keeping people from entering/escaping his domain freely. Pluto doesn't like to be seen, he wants to exert control but be out of sight. Unless the chart has Pluto aspecting other personal planets, these people don't express their Plutonian traits openly, and it's hard for people to associate them with said traits.

Their inner world is vastly different from their exterior. The kind of people who you might not notice them at first sight or are not too well known. They could own a large fortune, live a very hedonistic lifestyle but still give the impression of an average Joe. Don't like to flaunt or boast. Reserved manner.

Can surprise others with their preferences and sexuality (if they choose to reveal them at all)

Self-aware, have a good grasp on their dark side, the kind that keeps a tight leash on their demons and unleashes them at will.

Not above using mind games and psychological manipulation tactics, but rarely, generally they just want to stay in their own world, in peace. Instinctively understand hidden motives. Can be overly suspicious of others. If you give the reasons to suspect you, they will have their guard up around you 24/7.

Can be blunt in speech.

The taboos and the occult world might appeal to them or repulse them greatly, depend on their past experiences.

Bury their wounds deep.

Go through many stages of transformation during their life. Like the concept of makeover, starting anew.

Cling to things and people but can also coldly let them go.

They would often think about the concept of death, while be fascinated with life. They can be self-destructive but also very health-conscious and live a healthy lifestyle. The impulses for destruction & preservation go hand in hand.

Can feel easily violated by people's energy. Their energy works on a more subconscious level.

They tend to keep people at arm's length, after all, you can't just walk freely into the underworld. The keyword is discrimination/ selective of what and who they should allow to come into their psyche.

Can attract possessive/ jealous people or trigger latent possessiveness/ jealousy in people, but they themselves can act like that too, it's a power struggle.

Sleep has a special regenerative effect. Vivid dreams.

Should avoid wearing black or dark red in public.

The underworld of the 8th House and Pluto is naturally dark, so you can't avoid the doom and gloom feeling. But remember, seeds grow from there and all the riches also come from there. And Persephone lives half the time there and half the time on the world above, so are the natives with Pluto in 8H. They need other planets in their chart to help them balance out.