#they both have Hollow abilities

[swan2swan]

Chad and Orihime dropping in with their Espada outfits...I love the aesthetic of this show.

[raddest-laddest]

i wish i could enjoy things and be creative on my own at the same time

[neverendingford]

.

[uzurakis]

jjk men w gf who’s overly sensitive and they said something that hurt her feelings? ^___^

FALLING INTO ARGUMENTS?!

featuring: megumi fushiguro. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.

n. nonnie, allow me to spice your req a bit by make them getting into arguments which hurts your feelings in the process. sorry it took a longer time to write this cause i really don’t want to mess their characterization on this one t—t you also didn’t say i need to end it with comfort so…

GOJO SATORU.

the atmosphere was heavy with tension, as if every breath you took stirred up a storm of unresolved emotions. the soft glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, accentuating the lines of frustration etched into gojo satoru’s face. his piercing gaze fixed into yours, a silent challenge hanging between both like a veil of uncertainty.

as you stood before him, the weight of his dismissive words bore down on you like a crushing weight. it was as if every syllable was a dagger aimed straight at your heart, each one leaving a deep, painful wound that threatened.

you cried out, "i can help, satoru," your voice quivering with a mix of hurt and desperation. "please, just let me help you."

however, his reply felt akin to a blow to the face. "i don’t need your help, alright?" he yelled, his voice snapping like a whip. "i've got this covered myself.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, filling the space between you guys with a palpable sense of defeat.

you begged, your voice almost audible, "but satoru, we're supposed to be in this together. i thought you trusted me. isn't that what relationships are built out of?”. nevertheless, his expression remained impassive, a mask of indifference that hid the pain lurking beneath the surface. “trust has nothing to do with it," he replied, voice colder than you had ever heard it before. "i do better alone."

with those comments, the abyss between you and gojo deepened, threatening to swallow both whole. then as you turned to leave his room, the weight of his rejection settled like a stone in your gut, leaving only a hollow ache and the bitter taste of regret.

the silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning and the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat. every fiber of his being screamed for him to go after you, to swallow his pride and beg for your forgiveness, but something held him back, he didn’t want to pull you into his mess any further.

with a heavy sigh, gojo sank into his chair, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he let out a long, ragged breath. the weight of his actions settled on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with its suffocating embrace.

tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let himself break down in the face of his own weakness. he had always prided himself on his strength, on his ability to handle any situation with ease and confidence, but now, in the aftermath of this argument, he felt more vulnerable than ever before.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

"are you okay, megumi?" you asked softly as you reached out to touch his shoulder.

his usually calm demeanor was replaced by a tense energy that crackled in the air, setting your nerves on edge as he flinched away from your touch, his expression hardening as he turned to face you.

he snapped, "i'm fine," in a tone that was unlike anything you had ever heard. "stop asking me that."

the words were like a slap to the face, leaving you feeling with hurt and confusion. all you had wanted was to help him, to ease the burden he carried on his shoulders, but instead, you found myself faced with a wall of anger and resentment.

you tried to protest whilst trembling with suppressed emotions. "you know you can always talk to me, right? you don't have to go through this alone." yet he shook his head, his eyes dark with pain as he pushed you away. "i said i'm fine!” insisted, tone slightly went higher. "just leave me alone."

the tears threatened to spill over, but you just held it down and bit your lips. with a heavy heart, you turned and left his room.

as the door closed behind you, megumi let out a frustrated growl, the sound muffled by the empty room. he cursed himself silently, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as the weight of his harsh words settled heavily on his shoulders.

"damn it," he muttered under his breath, very much thick with regret. "fuck you, fushiguro.”

the memory of your hurt expression haunted him, a reminder of the pain he had caused with his thoughtless words. he had never meant to hurt you, never intended to push you away, but in his fear and uncertainty, he had lashed out without thinking, building walls around himself to keep you out.

now, as he stood alone in the quiet solitude of his room, he realized the magnitude of his mistake. he had pushed away the one person who had always been there for him, the one person who had never given up on him, and now he was left to face the consequences of his actions.

with a heavy sigh, the man sank onto his bed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the mess he had created. he knew that he needed to apologize, to make things right, but the thought of facing you again filled him with a sense of dread.

ITADORI YUUJI

under the soft glow of streetlights, yuuji and you found yourselves standing at the edge of a heated argument that threatened to consume the bond between you. the cool night air was heavy with tension, each word you and he exchanged hanging in the air like a cloud of unresolved emotions.

"i just wish you would trust me, yuuji." you said, sounding frustrated as you looked for any indication that he might understand.

however, he shook his head, his expression stubborn and closed off. "i do trust you, but this is different. i need to handle this on my own, babe.”

his remarks pierce deeply. it seemed that he was shutting you down even though all you wanted to do was to help him. you looked at yuuji and said, "i can't just watch you struggle."

"just, give me some time alone, okay?”

the hurt in his voice mirrored your own. as you watched him walk away, the sting of his words lingered like a bitter taste in your mouth. just as you turned to leave, you heard him call out your name, his voice filled with panic and regret. "wait! baby, i'm sorry. i didn't mean it like that."

you turned back to face him, the ache in your chest easing slightly at the sight of his vulnerability. in that moment, you understood that beneath his tough exterior, he was just as scared and uncertain as you were.

"it's okay, yuuji," you calmed him down, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "we'll figure this out together."

GETO SUGURU

you couldn't stand idly by as suguru pushed himself into further depression from time and time again, and tonight, you had finally reached your breaking point.

"suguru, you need to take better care of yourself," you begged, tinged with frustration and concern. "you can't keep treating yourself like this."

“is there really nothing i can do to help you?”

only he scoffed at your worries, waving off your concerns with a dismissive gesture, expression stubborn and unyielding. "i'm fine, babe.” with a deep sigh, geto suguru pointed out, "and what would you know about my problems, huh?" he reacted with resentment.

those words cut deep, leaving you mourning with hurt and disbelief.

"suguru..” you claimed, “do you really think i would just stand there as you destroy yourself? when you mean so much to me?”

his eyes softened at your words, a flicker of regret passing over his features before he shook his head, expression hardening as he turned away from you. "i don't need your help," he spat.

“i can take care of myself."

the finality of his words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing the last vestiges of hope that lingered in.

"fuck, i'm sorry," he murmured right before you decided to walk away. "i didn't mean to worry you."

“i, i just don’t know what to do with myself. shit, i’m so sorry.”

you turned back to face him, tears welling in your eyes as he crossed the room to pull you into a tight embrace. his familiar arms curled around you, providing comfort and warmth despite the tension. you could feel his heartbeat against yours, a rhythm that expressed both guilt and tenderness. at last, words were unnecessary as you allowed the quiet to envelope both, saying more than any apology could.

@uzurakis — requests are open! <3

[lenny-link]

TF2 x SU au fusions!

oof this took too long but i finally made it !

I kept @gracefireheart Andalusite (HeavyMedic) and @cariocay ‘s Turquoise (EngieSpy) (that i just realized their account got deactivated just a few days ago im sad now) fusion designs because i just found them perfect and whenever i wanted to try making my own designs i always ended up with making something similar to theirs since i was very influenced so i just kept them! They’re so awesome plz check the original artists!

my designs :3 :

About the fusions:

I tried to choose a theme for every fusion that suits the characters like Spessartite (DemoSolly) is a warrior i put Demo’s sword with Soldier’s shield thing well he doesn’t specifically have a shield but yknow the helmet thing i thought that could work.

He’s very powerful, strong and jump into action without a second thought, while he possesses immense strength and a love for loud and chaotic things, his battle prowess is a double-edged sword since his attacks lack precision. however, this unpredictability often leaves his enemies confused and scrambling to defend. he fights more efficiently when drunk lol

Lepidolite (MedicSpy) is a plague doctor, he is very inspired by Hannibal Lecter (nbc Hannibal lol shout out to that one Anon who recommended it for me to watch it lol) at first i wanted to give him a bistouri as a weapon, since it would suit Medic’s saw with Spy’s small knife, but then i felt the fusion was leaning too much towards Medic than Spy, so i put a cane instead to give that old idk gentleman look :P

He is polished and sophisticated, with a hint of underlying sadism and very precise in his movements, he meticulously analyzes his opponents, exploiting weaknesses with surgical precision before jumping into action and strike right where it hurts the most, the cane appears to be a simple walking stick, but inside is a hollowed core that had a retractable, poison-tipped blade, and his poison isn't fast-acting he enjoys toying with his victims, watching as the venom slowly takes hold, fueling his twisted sense of amusement. they are far from being the strongest fusion but they rely a lot on making their opponent weaker by their ability to attack precise hits as well as poisoning them!

Carnelian (SniperScout) his design was inspired by a equestrian outfit (he was the hardest to design tbh bc i wanted his design to be specifically different from the others since Scout is half human so i wanted this "human" aspect to show in the fusion).

He is a walking paradox, he's got Sniper's calm confidence with Scout's hyperactive energy, he loves a good plan but his execution is often fueled by pure adrenaline, he can zip across the battlefield with incredible speed, dodging attacks and flanking enemies. good at mid range and long range attacks but weak at close range, has internalized monologues with himself a lot, he appears calm on the surface however, his foot constantly taps, he fidgets with his slingshot, he cannot stays in place for too long. enjoys taking challenges.

Rubellite (DemoPyro) is a robot with a 50’s cartoon style but with like a creepy vibe to it, their voice sounds like a broken radio perpetually stuck on a laugh track, is both infectious and unsettling.

They just as powerful as Spessartite but just a bit more agile and lean more on the defense style than offense, their body stretches in a cartoony way and battles become a twisted playground for them, a child's game where they hop and blow things up everywhere. they’re very joyful and loves to have fun while making chaos, they usually make jokes but no one understands their muffled voice so they often laugh all by themselves lol the weapon actually expands where the ball and the shaft of the mace connects there’s a chaine (i didnt draw it cuz there was already too much going on in the drawing lol) which helps them reach target from close to mid range easily, they twist and turn their body in very flexible ways before swatting their weapon at their target.

♠︎ If you want to suggest a pair for the next fusion please just comment here DO NOT send it in my ask box plz !!

And if you want to make your own fusion designs/fanart go ahead ! id love to see other people’s interpretations could be ! just don’t forget to tag me and add the tag ( tf2 x su au) :D

hope you enjoy !

+ early designs :

[willowedspirits]

Hollow Knight Linked Universe AU! I've finally finished it!

If you don't know much about Hollow Knight, a lot of the technicalities might not make sense, and I would encourage you to look into the game. Or you could just enjoy the chain as bugs and see them off on their buggy adventures!

I've made this AU trying to keep as close as I can to Hollow Knight's story, but some creative liberties were of course taken.

My main idea is that the infection is the equivalent to Dark Link's (who does exist in this) infected monsters and it's up to them to try and slow/stop the infection. My first thought was to have the infection start to spread outside of Hallownest, and the chain needs to go and stop it, but I'm still going back and forth on it.

I'm still open to changing concepts if I find something that works better, but after literal months of working on this on and off I'm happy with how this has turned out!

Rambling about character details below!

Small note: I've set this AU at roughly the start of the infection, when Radiance was starting to take over Hallownest.

Time

Is not from Hallownest. He traveled to Hallownest from a distant land, where he met Malon and settled down with her.

He encountered Radiance upon entering Hallownest, but was protected by a god that had already laid claim to him, Fierce Deity, who protects him from the Radiance's infection.

He and Malon live in the Howling Cliffs.

His wing and antenna injury are from Radiance when she tried to infect him.

He is not able to fly because of the injury, and now fights with a heavy nail.

His wings used to be green, but after encountering the Fierce Deity, they slowly started to change in color until they were blue.

I'm not sure if I would do anything with the eyes on his wings, I was trying to make a connection to Majora in that, but I'm still debating whether to add it.

Twilight

Is a part of the Traitor Mantis tribe that lives in the Queen's Garden.

He met a Sibling (Midna) that escaped from the Abyss. They gave him the ability to harness Void.

Still working on the detail for how exactly they give him this ability, but my rough idea is that perhaps both of them were attacked by and infected villager, and they saved him by giving up their Void essence.

He's grown up wanting to be infected by the Radiance. He was taught the Radiance was a god that gave bugs great strength, but after seeing what the infection really does, he starts to have second thoughts.

The cloak he is wearing is new. The one he wore before was damaged. I'm still debating on when exactly he gets it, but I think it's something he makes after he leaves the traitor village.

Warriors

He is the head knight of the Hive and oversees whoever enters their territory.

His scarf is a gift from the princess of the Hive given to him when he leaves to join the group.

Since he is a bee, he is connected to the Hive via the hivemind. He uses this to check in on his home whenever he can.

This also makes it very dangerous if he gets infected, since it would quickly spread to the other bee's.

I kept his nail the same as Hive Knight's, but it's open to change.

Four

(I'm still very iffy on Four's story concept, but here's what I have so far)

Lives in Green Path.

He has a passion for weapon smithing, and planned on moving to the capital of Hallownest (City of Tears).

But he accidently stumbled on a weak Unn, and agreed to help protect her while she recovered.

When she did recover, she blessed him with a power that allows him to split into 4 parts of himself using his SOUL.

He can split while in the physical world, but will always be split while in the Dream realm. This also makes it difficult for Radiance to infect him.

Wind

Lives in the Kingdom's Edge and works as a guide across the acid lakes. Most of the travelers are those who are seeking to fight in the Colosseum of Fools.

This is how he found the Colosseum, and regularly attends (but not participate in) some of the fights, which is how he meets Tetra.

He is just learning to fly, but is picking it up really fast.

I wanted to keep the lobster apart of his design... But there are no lobsters in Hollow Knight... Then I remembered this was an AU and I can do what I want with it. So lets just pretend that Lobsters are seen as these awesome ancient beings that he wishes to see one day.

Wild

He was a guardian of the Beast's Den before he became infected, leaving the Den to reside somewhere in Deep Nest.

He is cured by the Dream Nail when the group meets him, and the last to join.

His shell is cracked and damaged because of the infection. The cracks have healed over time, but will never go away.

He has trouble with his memory due to being infected for so long before being cured. He is slowly regaining his memory, but there are still a lot of pieces missing.

His infection spread through to his arm, but is hidden under his cloak.

He uses his nails almost as throwing needles.

Legend

Is a shop owner in Hallownest's capital. He sells all kinds of items from all across Hallownest, small things he's found that could be valuable.

He's managed to make his way into the upper class of the capital due to his shop. His cloak is a modified version of the upper-class wardrobe. He dyed and added the hood himself.

Has a great sense of exploration, and has been all over Hallownest, but still has some places he needs to check off.

His jewelry are all gifts from Ravio.

My original concept for his design was to give him 4 arms. I was thinking of the Collector when designing him, and thought it fit. But after working on finalizing the design, I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it. I still love the concept though.

Hyrule

(Again, I don't have a clear story concept for him but I have some notes)

Lives in the Ancient Basin.

Has learned how to use SOUL, and is in hiding from the residents of the Soul Sanctum because of it.

He has access to spells and is able to heal himself using SOUL.

I originally gave him a cloak, but couldn't decide if he looked better with or without it. So he does have it, but only sometimes.

Sky

Is the wielder of the Dream Nail, which can be used to cure infected bugs by purging the Radiance from their dream's.

Has wanted to learn to fight with a nail since he was little, and would practice his skills.

He learned about the Dream Nail after some of the moth tribe became infected. He left shortly after he learned this infection was spreading through Hallownest, with the goal of stopping it.

He isn't the only one that can use the Dream Nail, but is the one dubbed the "owner" of it.

And that's what I've got!

I didn't go much into Dark Link here, but would be happy to show some concepts I have for him as well if anybody is curious. I'm making him almost like a living version of the Radiance's infection, and is able to spread it from bug to bug without needing to access their dreams. This is mainly why I'm torn on having them leave Hallownest. If Dark Link could spread the infection to farther lands, or to keep him inside Hallownest and just spread it faster there.

I thought that using the Dream Nail was a good equivalent to the Master Sword here, so I just mashed them together, and a lot of the motivations for the chain trying to stop the infection is "I'm seeing this awful thing happen to these bugs that I don't want to see happen to others," with some small variations here and there.

I've been working on this for so long, I just want to share by bug boys. I would love to gush and ramble about them some more. I have stuff I want to do with this AU.

[sailortongue]

Lima Bean

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji makes his intentions clear and a certain reporter is a little too committed to his job

an: ik the title is kinda dumb but bear with me i have an idea (title is still subject to change if the idea falls through). also tags are being kind of silly and I don't know how to get them to act right so if you asked to be tagged but didn't get notified I swear I tried 😭

wc: 2k

navi | prev | series mlist

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“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words changed Kenji’s entire demeanor in seconds. His face dropped and his jaw hung open in complete disbelief. “. . . Are you sure?” He asked. 

“Positive test, missed period, morning sickness,” you listed off. “I’m going to make an OBGYN appointment anyway just to be 100% sure, but so far yeah I’m pretty sure.”

“Ah,” was all he could say in response, his mind both blank and racing at the same time. Had he really not used protection? Was he that drunk? He tried to think back to that night, but all he could seem to remember was a flash of you under him and his lips on your neck. His face immediately flushed scarlet. 

“Are you angry?” You asked, noticing the rapid shift in his complexion. 

He rushed to deny your assumption. “No! No, nothing like that. I'm just . . . not sure what to make of this.”

“I know how you feel,” you said wryly. “Just thought you should know, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling almost hollow inside with the knowledge that your life was about to undergo a drastic change.

“I appreciate it, thank you. If you don’t mind, uh,” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “I'd like to be present. To be a father.” He thought back to when he took care of Emi and how much he came to love her. He was confident in his ability to take care of his own biological child, even if these weren’t the circumstances in which he imagined he’d have one. 

You looked at him as if you were meeting him for the very first time, entirely taken aback by his willingness to step up. Truthfully you'd expected him to deny any responsibility, but there he was, asking to raise the baby alongside you—to step up to the metaphorical plate and be a dad. “Really? And you’re not going to leave at the first inconvenience?”

“No. You have my word on that.” His expression was one of utmost sincerity. “I want to be a dad. Granted, this isn’t how I expected it,” he laughed awkwardly, “but it’s how it happened, and I won't run away from it.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to be so noble.”

“Thought I’d tell you to get rid of it or just throw a check at you to never contact me again? I understand the concern, but I want to be there every step of the way.”

“Then, would you like to come with me for my appointment? I haven’t scheduled it yet but . . .” you trailed off, realizing you were asking a very busy man to take time out of his day to accompany you to a doctor's appointment. “Unless of course you’re busy or don’t want to,” you added quickly.

He laughed at how flustered you’d gotten. “I'll be there. No matter the weather, practice, or a game, I will be there. That’s my kid you’ve got in there after all,” he said with a broad grin on his face as he pointed to your abdomen. “And that takes priority over everything else.”

“Wow. You’re smitten with something that’s probably the size of a lima bean right now,” you teased.

“Woah now, that’s our lima bean and I’m going to be the best dad a bean could wish for,” he asserted, imagining teaching his future son or daughter to play baseball with him or helping with homework, even what it would be like to do his daughter’s hair, or perhaps teaching his son how to tie a tie.

He was snapped from his thoughts when you slid your phone towards him from across the table, the screen displaying a new contact. “If we're going to be coparenting we should have each other's numbers.”

He picked up the device to input his number and then checked his own phone. He showed you the screen, a message from your own number displayed there. 

It was only when he handed your phone back to you that you noticed how late it had already become. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize the time. I didn't mean to keep you so late,” you apologized. 

“No no, it’s fine. I'm glad you, or, Ami, I guess, insisted we have this conversation in person. Think if I had been told over text I’d still be sitting on the couch reading it over and over again,” he laughed. 

“That was how I felt looking at the test. It didn’t feel real.” You had a smile that mirrored his own, and you couldn’t believe how fortunate you were that Kenji wasn’t the douche you expected he’d be when he found out. Quite the opposite, to your pleasant surprise.

“Do you need a ride back home?” He asked earnestly, not quite ready to say bye. After all, you hadn’t  allowed him the chance the last time you had met. 

You shook your head as you stood from the table. “No, I drove here, but thanks anyway. I guess I'll keep in touch?”

He hummed in affirmation, standing from his chair, his impressive height towering over you. He gestured for you to walk first, following close behind you, his hand lightly pressed to your lower back as he walked with you to your car. While the two of you were wishing each other good night, another patron of the cafe was typing furiously into his phone, notifying his boss that he had just overheard the sport's world's juiciest scandal in months.

-❀-

The first thing you did the following day was schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. There had been a recent cancellation so you were able to get a slot in just a few days. You sent Kenji a text to notify him when and where, a small part of you looking forward to seeing him again. He responded quickly, saying he would definitely be there. 

When the day came, he called you to ask if you wanted to go together, rather than take two cars. You agreed and told him your address, choosing to wait for him inside due to the biting cold of December. When you heard a car pull up, you exited your home, and it took all of your willpower not to gawk at his car, which was probably worth more than your entire house. You saw the driver's door begin to open, and he stepped out, breathtakingly handsome as usual. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and waved, greeting you with a jovial “Morning!”

“Good morning, Kenji,” you returned, a smile gracing your features. 

As you approached the car, he slid back into the driver's seat and looked over at you, taking in the sight of the mother of his future child. He'd lain awake all night, playing with the idea over and over in his mind. He was really going to be a dad. How different could it be to raise a human baby if he’d already done so with a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby?

You noticed his gaze in your peripheral vision, but as you turned to look at him he snapped his attention forward and made himself busy with inputting the name of the doctor’s office you’d given him into the GPS. 

The ride was filled with pleasant small talk, asking each other how you had been since last time, basically avoiding the elephant in the room and talking about everything except the new life between you. After parking, he made sure to open the door to the office for you and entered after you, a rush of cold air enveloping you as you approached the front desk. You confirmed your appointment with the receptionist, and she directed the two of you to sit in the waiting room and told you your name would be called when the doctor was ready. 

As you were waiting, you noticed Kenji’s leg bouncing up and down rapidly, showing his nerves despite it not even being his appointment. You took the opportunity that had presented itself and placed your hand atop his knee. He looked over at you, his brown eyes wide and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You can wait in the car if you’d prefer—“

“No!” He all but shouted, refusing to let you believe for even one second that he would run out. “I said I would be here for you and I will,” he said adamantly, placing his hand over yours where it was still on his knee and squeezing tightly, a physical reassurance that we was staying put. 

“y/n l/n.” You heard your name called.  You and Kenji stood together, his hand not releasing yours. Instead, he rubbed calming circles on the skin as you were escorted into the patient rooms, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was meant to ease his nerves or yours. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

-❀-

The gel was cold as it was spread across your exposed skin, sending shivers up your spine. A grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, and the doctor pointed to a small grey object depicted on it, surrounded by a sea of black. “This,” she started, “is the fetus.” You looked at the screen in awe before glancing over at Kenji. He was seated in a chair against the wall, his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward, his attention rapt on the screen and his lips open in a small “o” shape. 

The doctor chuckled at your amazed reactions. “Excited to be parents?” She asked.

You don’t think Kenji even heard her, so you answered. “To be totally honest, this was unexpected, but I think we can make it work. Kenji here made it very clear that he wants to be a dad.”

“That's wonderful to hear. Well, looking at the scan I'd say you’re about 7 weeks along and you can expect to welcome the baby around August 11. 

Kenji was practically bubbling as you each took your seats in the car, and he kept stealing glances at your tummy even if you weren’t showing any visible change yet. 

-❀-

These past few days of tailing the nation's sweetheart baseball player were so worth it, thought the man sitting in his car while browsing through the photos of Kenji Sato and a woman he’d never been seen with before entering and leaving an OBGYN facility together. Interesting. Very interesting. With those photos there was no denying that Kenji Sato, baseball heartthrob, was a soon-to-be father.

-❀-

Kenji put the car in park in your driveway. You made to get out of the car until he exclaimed “Wait!” You re-situated yourself on the seat, angling yourself towards him. He seemed almost at war with himself, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually say what had prompted him to stop you from leaving. “Would you, uh,” he faltered, chuckling awkwardly. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” He gave you a hopeful look. 

Heat flushed across your face and ears, and you beamed at him. “Doing things way out of order aren’t we?” You joked. 

He laughed mirthfully as well. “Way out of order,” he agreed. “So, was that a yes? To go out?”

“Yes, that was a yes,” you giggled, finding his eagerness endearingly sweet.

He nodded his head. “Ok. Ok, great. Are you free this Saturday? I'll pick you up?”

“I’ll see you then,” you agreed cheerfully, and, deciding to take another risk since you were doing things all out of order anyway, you leaned over and placed a quick peck against his cheek before hopping out of the car and waving goodbye. He continued to wait in the car until he saw you safely enter your home, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest and his face crimson red, one hand placed lightly against where your lips had touched his skin. 

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[remlionheart]

up against the wall

୨ৎ MDNI. this is the first fic i've really posted that's come with a caution sign, but dark content ahead, you have been warned ♡ this was originally an oc x dazai but i converted into dazai x fem!reader for all of you who wanted to read it ♡ a bit yandere on both dazai and reader's part. full submission. degradation and praise. gunplay. dom!dazai ((fucking yum)). lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡୨ৎ

take me, take me back to your bed i love you so much that it hurts my head. say I don't mind you under my skin i'll let the bad parts in, the bad parts in... ─★ now playing: degausser

You had always known what and who Osamu Dazai was. The parts of him that he’d given you and the parts of him that he tried to hide– they were both engrained into your mind. Clawed and carved into your heart no matter how much he attempted to conceal off pieces of himself that he didn’t want you to have access to.

He'd learned pretty early on in your relationship that there was no such thing as avoiding you, not just because of your Mind Glimpse, but because of who you were as a person. The sheer lengths that you'd go just to get to him were hopeless and absolutely devoid of all logic. 

At 16, you'd tattooed his initial on your forearm when Mori tried to put an end to your relationship. Nearly killed yourself a couple of years later when you somehow managed to teleport all the way from Port Mafia to his apartment, collapsing in his living room from overusing your ability all because he wouldn't answer your calls. There was no obstacle or barrier strong enough to stop you from gravitating towards him the way you did and the worst part was, Osamu... liked your earth-shattering devotion to him.

He'd never experienced love before and he'd certainly never experienced… whatever it was between the two of you before either, but there was something about your raw and unapologetic honesty that captivated him. He’d spent so much of his life being conditioned to lie and manipulate to get others to bend to his will and yet, you... would happily break yourself for him just because.

You'd do anything, really. Any request, no matter the cost. Any command, no matter the risk. Any hoop, no matter the height– you'd always find a way, finishing the task with with wide eyes and a smile. “Like that? Was that good?” You might as well have been a puppy with how you obeyed him so thoroughly. It was equal parts amusing and… something else entirely. Something that Dazai wasn't quite ready to face.  

The nickname “little ghost” that he'd gifted you expanded well beyond your ability to vanish, it rang true in all aspects of your relationship. You were his shadow. His mirror. Your curiosity just as relentless and unwavering as his own. Your determination and shamelessness just as dangerous when it came to getting the things you wanted and he was always the thing you wanted most.

You saw him, even when he didn’t think you did. Not just the flippant exterior that he presented to the outside world. Not the hollow cut-out version of himself that he used to blend into crowds. No, you saw him– the full scope of who he was and who he pretended not to be, and you still clung onto him like your life depended on it. Craved him. Haunted him. Trusted him. And worst of all, loved him. Really, sincerely, desperately loved him.

In your first year at Port Mafia, Dazai had written you off as entertainment. A fun, fragile little toy that he could pick up and dissect whenever he got bored and he got bored a lot. But you were happy to oblige, often catching him off guard with how excitedly you would offer parts of yourself up to him without him even having to ask.

You were an enigma in your own right. Something he’d never really seen before. So starved for attention but so infuriatingly stubborn when it came to letting yourself receive it. So obsessed with the idea of love but so tragically clueless when it came to actually being able to identify it. So in-tune with the emotions of everyone else around you but so completely unaware of your own. You were dangerous– Mori’s worst migraine and Dazai’s best asset with the way your ability would spiral out of control when your feelings became too much for you to bear.

Dazai was hardly solid, made up of nothing more than loose-leaf ideas and questionable personality traits that he’d stolen from others and pieced together for himself over the years. But to you, he was so much more. He was the very foundation beneath your feet, the gravity that kept you standing and upright most days, never letting you float too far into your mind. He was the only thing that could stabilize you and not just from his nullification, but from simply being there. As Chuuya had pointed out so many times, the two of you were “a match made in hell”, but you both seemed to find more comfort than threat in the flames you created together.  

Four years ago, if you would’ve asked Dazai how it happened– how your relationship with him had morphed into something that bared such an eerie resemblance to that of trust and understanding, he would’ve dismissed it, but now…

His eyes narrowed, amusement flickering across his face as you circled him in your makeshift training room. “Careful. I told you I’m not gonna let you win this time.”

A spark of silver and blue electricity cracked into the air, your small frame vanishing from where you had been standing across from him, only to reappear right beside him. Your breath hot and tantalizing against the shell of his ear, “Be rough with me then, I can take it.” The smile in your voice was palpable and then– gone.

Now… there was no denying how much he loved chasing and breaking you, his favorite little toy.

He let you have your fun for a few more minutes, folding his arms over his chest with a smirk as you teleported across the abandoned warehouse with precision, pressing soft kisses against his cheek before disappearing into a snap of iridescent energy.

You hid behind a crate, concentrating as your gaze locked onto one of the heavy industrial light fixtures before pulling it down from the rafters, letting it crash next to where Dazai was standing.

"Wow," he mused, giving you a fake clap. "Had I been 12 feet closer, you might've actually gotten me."

He didn't have to know where you were hiding to know that he'd struck a nerve, a smaller lightbulb bursting in one of the overhead lights indicated that you heard him.

"Come here," he said, his voice softening a bit as he rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight. He barely had to side-step to dodge the tire that had been hurled his way. Your emotions were erratic but always predictable.

"Baby, c'mon. It's not my fault you have terrible aim. That's why we're here anyway, remember?"

There was a crackle of energy, another flash of steel blue before you finally reappeared in front of him, a pout that he was all-too familiar with looking back at him.

He bit back a laugh watching you sink into yourself.

"Look, it's about focus, okay?" His tone transitioned into something more serious as he took a slow step towards you. "As long as Mori sees you as his own personal project, I need you to be prepared for anything. You're gonna start getting sent on higher ranking missions sooner than later and I need to know that you're ready for that."

There was something about the way he said it– about the genuine concern coating his words that made your chest tighten.

You let your eyes meet his again as you nodded. "Okay," you breathed, the bratty rebuttal you had lined up promptly dying on the tip of your tongue as you took in his features. "What do you want me to do?"

"Teleport to me, we're going to go over intuition and reflexes."

You drew in a sharp breath before closing your eyes, electricity dancing along your skin as you accidentally snapped yourself directly in front of him so that you were chest to chest.

"Surely you wouldn't get this close to an enemy," he smirked, "but for argument's sake, let's say you did. Let's say you landed right in front of them, just like this and they –"

Without any time to think, Dazai had already reached into the inside of his coat pocket, the cold metal of his Beretta suddenly resting easily against your temple. “What now?” He whispered, looking down at you with provoking curiosity. "What are your instincts telling you to do?"

It wasn't the first time you'd had a gun drawn on you, but it was definitely the first time you'd had a gun drawn on you this... intimately. Your body betrayed you, displaced warmth migrating to your cheeks as you blinked back at him through heavy lashes. Your instincts were certainly there, they were just... all wrong.

Dazai caught your reaction immediately, the fleeting but unmistakable flicker of lust that washed over you.

"Oh?" He quipped, leaning down while pressing the barrel further into your delicate skin. "What’s this, huh?" His stare was equal parts predatory and incredulous as his eyes trailed over you, zeroing in on every small, subtle shift you made. The way your breathing had slowed, the goosebumps that decorated your arms, the way your hips couldn't help but tilt towards his ever-so slightly. "You like it, don't you? Like the way it feels when your life’s in my hands?”

"No, I'm–" You faltered, your words completely stolen by the knowing smirk that had cut across his face. "I'm just– thinking, is all."

"Thinking” he echoed, his other hand gently cradling your jawline as he forced you to keep your eyes locked with his. “And what exactly are you thinking about? Please, enlighten me.”

You had to bite back a smile, trying your best to mask your flimsy composure though you knew he could already see straight through it. "Strategy." You lied, jutting your bottom lip back out in faux innocence.

Dazai couldn't help the laugh that escaped him as he tilted his head towards yours, closing the already small gap between you. "Is that right?" He mused, his lips just barely grazing yours. "My diligent little ghost, always so focused."

You nodded back at him helplessly, his grin razor sharp as his hand trailed from your jaw to the back of your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcefully cocking your head to the side.

It earned him a yelp as he continued to hold his weapon to you. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?" His breath fanned across your skin, leaving a delirious static in its wake while his body pressed against yours, pinning you between him and a metal crate. "Your eyes give you away every time."

"Dazai..." It wasn't quite a moan, but alarmingly close to one as his lips found the nape of your neck, his teeth lightly sinking into you.

"This opens up all sorts of doors for us though, doesn't it?" His curiosity was reaching new heights, dangerous ones that he'd always tried to keep at bay, but now... the glazed over eyes staring back at him were giving him all the confirmation he never needed to keep going.

You nearly moaned into his mouth when he finally kissed you, your hands desperately tangling into the collar of his shirt as you pulled him in closer. Your movements urgent and beyond your control.

"Spread for me." He said between breaths, using his leg to coax yours apart. "I wanna see something."

You were so lost, so needy and overtaken by the feeling of him that you merely whimpered in response, not caring about anything else except for the feeling of his lips back on yours.

"Good girl," he exhaled, hiking your skirt up as he slowly began to slide his gun down along your face. "You trust me, don't you?"

“Always.” You said despite the way your legs were trembling, your nerves dancing with a vicious mix of excitement and fear as he traced the barrel of the gun over your puffy lips.

He angled his knee just right, giving your clit a much-needed brush of friction while you gradually parted your lips for him, welcoming the cold metal into your mouth.

Dazai had never been one for big acts of commitment, but watching you moan into his loaded Beretta made him realize that maybe he did need to know your ring size after all. Just in case.

"Look at you," he groaned, nearly losing himself to the sight of it. "So fucking gorgeous when you're at my mercy like this."

The praise went straight to your center, your body humming with dizzy want and unrelenting need as he carefully retracted it, his mouth dropping open watching the trail of spit that connected you to it break and drip graciously down your chin.

You were fulfilling fantasies of his that he thought he'd only ever get to dream of as he leaned into you again, letting you cling onto him tighter. The two of you worked in perfect feral synchronicity, him pulling the thin fabric of your underwear down over your thighs to help you step out of them before you kicked them out of reach.

"Osamu..." Your voice had been reduced down to a heady plea, one that he'd do anything in his power to satisfy.

"I’m right here.” He lulled, his grip tangled straight back into your hair while his mouth returned to yours, his other hand working on something much more... nefarious.

"Relax for me,” his voice was soft but commanding, laced with something that made you trust him though you knew you shouldn’t. “That's right. Just like that.”

Your pupils doubled in size as you felt the harsh metal begin to slip between your sensitive folds, your words suddenly eviscerated by the way he was staring down at you through dark, clouded eyes. How completely and utterly lost he looked as he spread you apart, a sense of desperation that you'd never quite seen from him before radiating off of each move he made.

"Oh...my god," Every last bit of logical thinking you had was gone, your mind and body both succumbing to the foreign sensation as he kept up a firm but gentle pace, running it uppp and dowwnnn in a way that made yours legs threaten to buckle.

"Dazai," you whined, your nails tearing into his shoulder for support as the motion became more fluid, your arousal acting as a shameful lubricant. You were almost embarrassed by how noticeable it was, how easy it was for him to glide it across you and how loud you’d gotten as you tried to bury your face into his chest.

Dazai, on the other hand, was on cloud nine. Only ascending further into the heavens with each lewd, begging little whimper that spilled out of you. "Do you have any idea how perfect you are?" He soothed, kissing and nipping at your collarbone while you started to find a rhythm, the steel still sending chills down your spine each time it brushed across your overstimulated clit. "I don't think you do," he groaned, "I really don't think you fucking understand what you do to me."

Getting praised by him to any degree always had a way of bringing you to the edge, but this... this was a type of euphoria that you didn't even know existed.

“You know the safety’s off?” He purred against your neck, his heart slamming into his chest as he watched the pouty, pleading look that had taken over you. The same one he’d seen so many times before but never quite like this.

Your slick was practically dripping onto his fingers the more he taunted you, your center greedily searching for release as your hips rocked up towards him.

“All it would take is one little slip, you know.” He was tortuously intoxicating, bringing you to your breaking point by whispering the most infernal little nothings. “With how soaked my fingers are, it’s almost like you want me to. Like you’re just begging for me to-”

Your entire body shook by his last threat, your brows knitting together while you frantically pulled him closer, repeating his name like a prayer in the small space between you. In all his time with you, he'd never seen you this undone before, this fucking beautiful and pathetic. There was something about it, about knowing that he was the only one who would ever get this type of blind obedience out of you that made something inside him ache.

“Dazai ~!”

The whine you let out was so heavy your eyes nearly crossed, more incoherent obscenities bouncing off the concrete floors.

Your cunt was pulsating, absolutely desperate for something to fill it as the orgasm hit you in waves, the rigidness of his gun still sending shockwaves through your thighs. There was a sense of pride and awe that crept over him at how well you responded to him, how overwhelmingly easy it was to break you.

"You're so pretty." He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead as he meticulously drifted the weapon back up over your stomach with a small grin. "Fucking insane, but so, so pretty."

You smiled breathlessly back at him, the loaded gun against your body completely forgotten by the weight of his compliment. “You think so?"

“Oh, I know so,” he smirked against your neck, freeing himself from his pants as his teeth sank into your skin. "You just came to the idea of me killing you and now you're all heart-eyed asking me if I really think you're pretty or not." He let out a semblance of a laugh, propping you up to wedge you against the crate again while your legs wrapped around him for support, his Beretta now resting tenderly under your chin. "My sweet girl... you're almost as deranged as I am."

The pink that swept across your face only added to the long list of reasons you were able to hold his attention. You were innocence mixed with sin. Naivety mixed with lust. He was holding a loaded gun to your head and you were all but saying “thank you.”

Your blush deepened as he prodded at your entrance, your eyes glazing over at how thoroughly his tip stretched you. “Dazai –” you whined, both of you reeling from how faithfully your walls sucked him in.

“What is it, angel?” His tone was thick with mockery, his finger resting lazily on the trigger as your nails met his back again. “Feel good?"

You nodded back at him, lips parting the deeper he went. “So good,” you exhaled, your back arching to invite him in more as he thrusted into you. “So fucking good.”

He watched you intently, his dark eyes nearly burning holes into your skin with how fervent his movements had become.

He was drowning in you, both physically and mentally– sinking further and further into the way you welcomed every part of him, both the good and bad. Even with the possibility of death looming over you, your only focus was him. The rest of the world, the threat of your life ending with one easy slip of a finger– none of it mattered as long as it was him that pulled the trigger.

"You'd let me, wouldn't you?" His voice was venomous, gentle enough to subdue you but still poisonous enough to seep into your veins without detection. "You'd let me be the one that to make that fragile heart of yours stop beating."

The answer was written all over of your face, evident in the way your core clenched around him the further he pushed.

You were soaking him, letting out the most gorgeous fucked-out noises he'd ever heard as he continued to wrap around your mind like the serpent that he was, robbing you of the last bit of dignity you had left.

"Say it." Dazai commanded, his thrusts becoming more punishing. "Let me fucking hear, it baby." He was just as lost as you were, riding a high he'd never experienced before as his hips met yours with untamed urgency.

"I –" Your vision blurred, your thighs trembling while his tip relentlessly slammed into your sweet spot. You could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence, his dark stare the only thing keeping you tethered to the room. "I– would." you finally choked out, almost drooling from how deep he suddenly was. "Dazai please, I'd– let you. I'd let you do anything, any... thing."

It wasn't the first time that he'd had someone beg while under the scope of his gun– some had begged him to spare their lives. Some had begged for him to just end it altogether. But no one had ever begged out of... love.

The noise he made was guttural, primal as his lips crashed into yours, his resolve crumbling entirely. His forehead pressed against yours while your walls spasmed around him like a vice, your core unravelling in a way that made him forget all of his senses.

You were smothering him, your nails tearing into his skin as your broken voice sang out his name like he'd trained you to do.

"There it is," he almost wasn't sure if it was you or himself he was saying it to as he began to twitch inside you. "There it– is, baby. Keep going. Don't stop." He was falling straight into the same abyss you were, the two of you tumbling hand in hand into a seemingly never-ending void of bliss.

"You're mine," he promised, letting his body seal the vow he was creating as he watched a desperate kind of sincerity settle over your features.

"Yours." you repeated softly, eyes full of conviction.

His chest heaved as he buried the last of his logical thinking and carnal desires into you at once. A damning warmth suddenly coating your walls while he slowly retracted the gun away from you and replaced it something much more sinister– affection.

His fingers gently traced over the side of your cheek as your uneven breathing mingled together. "Deranged." He panted with a faint smirk, "Certifiably insane."

You merely smiled as he pulled out of you, carefully getting you back to your feet. "And yours." You reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah," he teased, kneeling down to grab your discarded underwear. "Just stay still for me." He was tentative as he helped you redress, adjusting and smoothing down your skirt while stealing proud glances at the mess he'd left dripping down your leg.

You quietly admired him, noting the tenderness in the way he handled you as you stood perfectly still, only moving when he’d guide you.

Your brows furrowed slightly when he stood back up and pulled his Beretta out of his pocket again, opening the chamber to let a bullet fall into his hand. "Here," he said, offering it to you, "a little keepsake. Maybe you can turn it into a necklace or something."

You held it up to the light like it was a precious stone, your jewelry box back at Port Mafia suddenly calling your name as your brain danced with ideas of how to turn it into something even more beautiful.

Dazai couldn't help but grin as he watched you twirl it between your fingers with all of the delicacy in the world, your eyes wide with wonder.

It was fitting, he thought, the way you were able to make art out of even the most broken things.

⋆.𐙚˚

[marsprincess889]

Vedic astrology observations

Part 5

Some interesting takes in this one😌

Ketu nakshatras, while having the ability to access the core of situations, also are the most likely to be deluded, due to the naturally tamasic nature of Ketu. For example, they might say something that is technically true but follow it up with examples and arguments that are straight up false, and they'll defend those incorrect details aggressively. It's not like they choose ro be ignorant, it's just much harder for them to break out of what they were clinging to, it's like an inability to see past falsehoods in details. Rahu has the ability to get those details right, but they might be hollow and devoid of substance. People influenced by either of these planets(rahu or ketu nakshatras in big three) often have this kind behavior: pushing their point while not seeing the whole picture, but in opposite ways.

Jupiter nakshatra women can have a mean streak. People say that about mars nakshatras but jupiter women specifically might have repressed anger that can be hard to contain and is often released in situations that have little to do with the true reason of their rage. They're very aware of this, unlike ketu nakshatras they're pretty self-aware, but they still have to deal with trying to balance their giving nature and their repressed anger during a lot of their life. I do have to say that anger becomes more obvious as you go through nakshatras in the chronological order. Punarvasus might be "catty" about it, Vishakhas can be really confrontational and aggressive, P.Bhadrapadas have that devil-may-care attitude towards it.

Venus women are the most likely to try to maintain peace around them. They are very discerning and fierce on the inside but they hate to show that side of themsleves and all that passion is chanelled through love, beauty, art and enjoyment. With other people, they're extremely private but polite. They never show dislike by directly confronting, but they make sure to minimize any engagement with them as much as possible. With Bharani and Purva Phalguni, it's rarely personal. Purva Phalguni especially is almost never concerned with others, they're very self-focused, but Purva Ashadha is the one out of three to become confrontational. Still, their confrontation is very different from Martian, Rahuvian, Ketuvian, Jupiterian or Solar confrontation. Bharanis are the most private and heavy on the boundaries. All of them will quietly judge and take notes before they even consider direct confrontation.

Moon women, although not exclusive like Venus, have this quietly demanding nature. They are the most likely to sulk/hurt in silence for a while before bringing any issue up. Interesting thing that I've noticed is that Venus dominant and Moon dominant women rarely get along. The exception would be Purva Ashadha and Shravana women, I'd say they get along extremely well. Maybe also Hasta and Bharani, but that one is rarer. Lunar femininity is based on receptivity and nurture, Venusian femininity is based on exchange and enjoyment. I can't explain it but there's this weird tension between them where they're both aware that their views and priorities in "feminine" matters are very different. Moon might quietly resent Venus's exclusive nature and view her as a competitor, because Venus does not immediately give to and worship lunar energies. Venus will dislike Moon's "overly" dependant nature that is nurturing to everyone, and might view it as smothering.

Revatis have a very interesting sense of humor. They're the true comedians that base their humor on "silliness". They do it simply for entertainment and rarely, if ever, to bring up current events in politics or trendy topics. Revati is more Ketuvian than Rahuavian (Ketu is the ruler of Pisces) and so they know how to mind their own business. With humor, even if they make fun of others, it's almost as if they're universally making of fun of everyone similar to them. It's more universal, rarely singling someone out with the intention of calling them out. Often if they make fun of one person, they'll also make fun everyone else, including themselves. Of course, there are exceptions in specific intances, but their worldview is what I just described above.

Nakshatras with yoni animals that are physically strong have an air of dignity and regality. Elephant, Buffalo, Cow/Bull and maybe even Lion yonis(although they are much less likely to be this way in tense situations) fall into this. They all embody those traits in very different ways. To put it simply, Elephant yonis are very level-headed, careful and peaceful, although strong instinctually. Buffalo yonis are very neutral and placid. Cow/Bull yonis are soft and reliable and Lion yonis are bold and unashamed.

Wanted this to be longer but it's not bad! Let me know what you think, interact💕

Take care🤍

[admiringlove]

➵ pairing. gojo satoru x fem! reader.

➵ summary. gojo satoru was a slytherin through and through—cunning, clever, and infuriatingly charming, with a reputation as both a prodigy and a troublemaker. you, a gryffindor prefect, couldn't be more different—fearless, fiercely principled, and far too stubborn to let someone like him get under your skin. or so you thought. by day, the two of you bicker and clash, bound only by your shared duty, but by night, within the room of requirement, you're partners in something far greater—a secret operation known as the marauders, granting the whispered wishes of hogwarts students.

➵ warnings. gojo being gojo; mentions of unforgivable curses; mentions of strangling someone (gojo); mentions of injury; slytherins being called anarchists; snape; mentions of hexing a cat (i think that counts as animal cruelty but idk for sure); profanity; slight timeline inaccuracy bc i like professor fig so i kept him in the fic w the others; etc.

➵ genre. wizarding world au; academic rivals to lovers; enemies to lovers; angst; fluff; adventure; etc.

➵ word count. 6.6k.

➵ author's note. so so excited to introduce you guys to mischief managed! big thanks to @gojofile for proofreading. have fun reading, and i hope slytherin prefect gojo warms your hearts <3 also also, taglist is still open!

➵ navigation. masterlist, next.

Gojo Satoru.

The mere mention of his name was enough to stir an unpleasant bitterness in your mouth—like biting into a sour Acid Pop, sharp and unforgiving. He leaned casually against one of the stone pillars near the corridor leading to the Great Hall, his posture so relaxed it was almost infuriating. You, however, stood at the top of the steps leading down to the bustling crowd of prefects below, arms crossed tightly over your chest, waiting. It was the sort of wait that carried the weight of years—years of dealing with him, with this. You had, like the others, arrived promptly, but unlike them, you had been watching the clock tick away in growing frustration, the minutes wasted under the strain of his absence.

With every second that passed, the sour taste in your mouth grew. You were no stranger to his arrogance, no stranger to the fact that Gojo Satoru never seemed to care about anyone else’s time but his own. How predictable, how utterly insufferable. He had this remarkable ability to ruin an entire evening simply by being late, the kind of late that stretched from a few minutes into an eternity. The others, however, had long since forgiven his transgressions, accepting the lack of discipline as some sort of unavoidable part of his charm.

You didn’t share that sentiment.

He walked up to the group then, casually slipping past the other prefects who all, unsurprisingly, seemed more than willing to let his tardiness slide. His lips curled into that infuriatingly charming, carefree smile, and the first few apologies that spilled from his mouth were as hollow as they were insincere. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking entirely too pleased with himself. If there was one thing you had to give him credit for, it was his ability to navigate the world with a confidence so blinding it nearly rendered everyone around him incapable of holding a grudge.

Except, of course, for you.

You could feel the weight of your own gaze burning into his back as he spoke. He was an impossible contradiction—infuriating, selfish, and absurdly arrogant, and yet, undeniably captivating. Even with all his faults, there was something magnetic about him. Those piercing blue eyes of his, so impossibly bright, and the soft curve of his lips, perpetually tipped upwards in a self-assured grin, had a power over people that you could not quite ignore. You’d seen it yourself—the way his presence could make entire groups of students lose their composure, how even the toughest of professors faltered under his gaze.

But not you.

You couldn’t care less for his entrancing gaze, nor for the way his words slipped from his lips like honey, perfectly crafted to disarm and beguile. His blue eyes, though striking, could not erase the irritable taste of his disregard. And his smile? It only made your stomach churn. You had learned long ago to keep your distance, to shield yourself from the charms that so effortlessly ensnared the rest. You were no fool.

"Alright, round up," calls the Head Girl, her voice slicing through the hum of conversation like a well-aimed hex. You sigh, already weary, and stand as she begins to rattle off the night’s patrol assignments. Your fingers toyed absently with the sleeve of your robe while you listened, half-attentive, until the sound of his name snapped you into focus.

Your gaze found him instinctively, as if drawn by some unseen force you hated to acknowledge. He was leaning back against the wall, all easy confidence, that maddening smirk tugging at his lips. Those pink lips, which were far too perfect for a boy who never seemed to put in any effort at all.

“[L/N], you’re with Gojo. Astronomy Tower and the North Wing.”

You exhaled sharply, the sound almost lost in the shuffle of murmurs and groans from the other prefects. Of course. Of course. You could practically feel his satisfaction radiating across the room without even looking at him. But you couldn’t resist. Your eyes flicked back to his, catching the faint tilt of his head, the knowing gleam in his irises. That smirk had only grown wider, as though he knew exactly how much this would infuriate you.

He always did.

You brushed past him on your way out, your shoulder caught the edge of his robe in a deliberate slight. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch, only watched you with that insufferable grin as though you amused him beyond words. You ignored him—pointedly, completely. He wasn’t worth your breath tonight.

There was too much at stake. You had an hour of patrol to endure before you could finally collapse into bed, and an early Potions lesson tomorrow morning with Snape waiting to shred your dignity into pieces. Snape adored Gojo, of course. He always found reasons to praise him, whether for his technique or his "sharp mind," as if the boy ever cared about rules or discipline. You, on the other hand, weren’t so lucky.

You could still feel the sting from the first day back, the dull thud of Snape’s heavy Potions tome cracking against the back of your skull because you’d dared to yawn during his lecture. Gojo, meanwhile, had been sprawled at the back of the class, sound asleep, the faint rise and fall of his chest utterly unbothered. Snape hadn’t said a word to him. Not one.

As you stepped out of the eastern wing and into the cool, open air, the castle loomed behind you, its shadow stretching long and dark across the grounds. Your footsteps echoed faintly against the cobblestones, their rhythm unsteady, almost reluctant. You yawned, stifling the sound with the back of your hand, though the ache of it lingered in your jaw. It had been a day—a week, really. The first week of your sixth year at Hogwarts, and already it felt like you’d lived through months.

The Astronomy Tower rose ahead, its silhouette sharp against the star-flecked sky. The air was crisp, biting against your skin as you fought to keep your eyes open. Another yawn threatened to escape, but you forced it down.

“A little tired, are we?” 

His voice cut through the quiet, smooth and sharp, his steps falling in perfect cadence with yours. The click of his boots on the stone floor reminded you of a metronome, steady and deliberate, as if the universe itself aligned to his whims. You didn’t look back, didn’t even bother to reply. A hum escaped your lips instead, low and dismissive, but you knew it wouldn’t deter him.

“You know,” he continued, unperturbed, “I didn’t see you at dinner tonight, Fawkes Junior.”

The nickname landed with its usual weight, heavy but familiar, like a coat you’d grown used to wearing despite its ill fit. It wasn’t the “Fawkes” that bothered you anymore—not after you’d finally experienced the beauty of the bird last year. The phoenix was a marvel, even more luminous than you’d imagined, its plumage shimmering with an otherworldly glow. No, it was the “Junior” that still irked you, the diminutive edge of it, the implication that you were less than.

You remembered that moment in Dumbledore’s office, the phoenix rising from its ashes with a blaze of light so blinding it had brought tears to your eyes. Dumbledore had watched you closely, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he recited the same words he’d spoken countless times before. A phoenix, he’d told you, could carry the heaviest of burdens, its tears more potent than any potion. He’d winked then, a gesture that felt both knowing and unnervingly intimate. You’d laughed it off, of course. What else could you do?

Shaking the thought from your mind, you replied curtly, “I was in the library. Something about Quidditch. McGonagall wanted me to look over the first-years’ picks.”

“Ah.” His voice curled around the word, drawn out and laden with that peculiar tone he used when he wanted to draw people in. You hated that tone, the way it made you feel like a moth fluttering dangerously close to a flame. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to up my game, then. Can’t let you Gryffindors get too comfortable. The House Cup is ours this year.”

You glanced at him then, just long enough to catch the glint of mischief in his eyes, the faint tilt of his lips. “You and I both know we won last year fair and square,” you said, your voice tinged with accusation. “Not that you didn’t try to hex our Seeker into food poisoning before the match.”

He laughed, a low, melodic sound that set your teeth on edge. “And you caught me. Hexed me right back, if I recall.”

“It was deserved.”

“I’m still the best Seeker Hogwarts has seen in our generation,” he said, his tone mockingly self-assured.

You arched a brow as you ascended the final steps to the Astronomy Tower. His claim was, unfortunately, true, but you’d never admit it—not to him, not to anyone. Instead, you let silence answer for you, the faintest quirk of your lips the only acknowledgment of his words.

The door to the tower creaked open, the chill of the night air spilling over your skin. He stepped ahead, turning to face you with that same infuriating grin, as if he’d already won whatever battle was brewing between you.

It was the first week of September, and the air already carried a bite to it—sharp and unwelcome for the Quidditch players who would soon be out on the pitch. You pulled your cloak a little tighter around yourself, biting back the impulse to complain about the chill, but it slipped out anyway. "Bloody hell," you muttered under your breath, though the frustration wasn’t entirely with the weather. "Not that I mind it, really. I quite like it. It’s just—"

"—going to be a bummer while we’re playing Quidditch," he finished for you, his voice light, teasing, like always. You didn’t even look at him when you said it, but you knew he'd be grinning that absurd grin of his, the one that seemed capable of disarming entire rooms with nothing more than a flash of teeth.

"Right. And you try to find a new way to cheat. Again," you added, rolling your eyes at the inevitable.

He chuckled, a low, amused sound that seemed to vibrate through the very air between you. "I say we stay here for the hour," he proposed, his tone one that would’ve convinced anyone else in the world. But not you. "Not like anyone gives a damn. Nobody’s going to be out in the North Wing at this time, except for us. Not when the dungeons lead directly to the Room—"

You could feel the weight of his words, could almost see the exact way his eyes would be sparkling with the promise of mischief, the way his mind was already working out the logistics of evading anyone who might ruin his latest scheme. He was clever, yes—brilliant, even. But it was always something else. That glint in his eye, that knowing smirk, the feeling like there was more behind every word and every movement. He was a bloody narcissist, but you could admit it: he made it look like an art.

You shook your head, muttering a small "Shut up," with a stern tone, eyes fixed ahead, refusing to even glance in his direction. As you brushed past him, your shoulder nudged his as a small warning, the smallest of touches, but enough to tell him that you weren’t in the mood for whatever else was about to come out of his mouth.

"You’re such a bore," he muttered, his voice dripping with mockery as he rolled his eyes. You huffed, the sound escaping you before you could fully hold it in, and made your way toward one of the arches. The cool wind rushed against your face, teasing the strands of hair that had escaped your ponytail, and you felt a warmth rise to your cheeks. The Black Lake stretched before you, vast and murky, the Forbidden Forest just beyond it, a dark, intimidating blur. The rustle of leaves whispered to you on the breeze, and the air itself smelled fresh, clean. It was almost peaceful—if not for his insufferable presence.

"I'm only doing what's asked of me, Gojo," you said, voice cutting through the silence between you. Your eyes flicked to him, and you almost wished you hadn’t. He was leaning casually against the stone, an impossibly carefree smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "If you can’t do your job, maybe you shouldn’t be a prefect. You’re not fit for it anyway."

"I know," he said, his tone suddenly so dramatically solemn it made you want to roll your eyes in return. "I’m only fit to be the most marvelous person at this school, unfortunately. Everyone else is... well, they’re just ordinary, and that bothers me. Except for you. And Suguru. Maybe Shoko." His gaze flickered to you, challenging you to disagree, but you remained silent, too exhausted to indulge him.

"I thought I was a bore," you said, raising an eyebrow as you turned to face him, arms folded loosely across your chest. He chuckled low, the sound rich and almost taunting.

"Oh yes," he agreed easily, “You are a bore. You're sort of filthy, too, really. I get this weird, uncomfortable feeling whenever I see you—like a cockroach."

You didn’t have to look at him to know the grin that must have spread across his face at his own words. You could feel it in the tone of his voice, could practically see the smugness radiating from him. You twisted away, sharply, walking back toward the stone staircase that led down. “This cockroach,” you muttered, “will hex you to fall out of the tower to your death.”

"Ah, threatening me again," he said, a laugh in his voice as he followed, always too close behind. "You really should be careful. I wouldn’t want to be the one to give you an excuse to use that hex."

"Come along," you snapped, the patience draining from you. "I suggest we finish our patrol soon so I can actually get some sleep."

"And I," he replied without missing a beat, his voice light, "shall nap in Snape’s class tomorrow. We’re learning about the Blood-Replenishing Serum anyway. I did it last year—privately, of course. I’ll probably just wait until we actually have to brew it to pay attention."

"Self-absorbed prick," you muttered under your breath, but he heard it, as always. His grin widened, as if he had just received the highest form of praise, and his eyes sparkled with mock admiration.

"Pitiful nag," he retorted, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn’t even have to try to sound smug. It was just part of who he was. And the worst part was, you couldn’t help but be aware of how much it irked you. And, somehow, how much you... didn’t mind it at all.

The next morning, Snape’s voice droned on like a monotonous hum, the same lecture about the Blood-Replenishing Serum that Satoru had so carelessly mentioned the night before. You sighed quietly, your quill scraping against the parchment as your thoughts drifted, mind half on the lesson and half on the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you. Every so often, you glanced up, only to see Gojo doing exactly what he'd said he would do: napping.

His head was cradled in his arms, the silky white strands of hair fanning out around him like some sort of halo, and his chest rose and fell with each slow, rhythmic breath. You scoffed under your breath. Typical.

Turning your attention back to Snape, you could feel the tension build in the pit of your stomach. The silence in the room lingered longer than usual, and when his eyes met yours, it hit you like a punch to the gut.

Shit.

"[L/N], would you care to enlighten us?" Snape's voice was smooth, deliberate. "What exactly seems to be distracting you from this crucial lesson in the very field you have expressed an interest in pursuing upon graduation? Do you or do you not want to go to St. Mungo’s?"

You blinked, the weight of the question settling over you as you rose from your seat. There was no use in pretending; he saw right through you, as usual. "Sorry, sir," you mumbled, staring down at your notes with a sudden sense of urgency.

He didn't buy it. You could feel his presence looming over you as he approached your desk, the air thick with expectation. "Without consulting your notes," he said coldly, his eyes narrowing, "name five ingredients required to make this serum work effectively. Without fail."

Your stomach twisted, but you met his gaze. The whispers of your classmates buzzed at the edges of your hearing, but they didn’t matter. You had been listening—despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on you—and now it was time to prove it.

"Powdered unicorn horn, sir," you said, voice steady, making sure to pause, "for its restorative and revitalizing properties. Knotgrass. Ginseng Root. Phoenix feathers. And Essence of Dittany."

There was a long pause, his gaze unrelenting, studying you like a hawk eyeing its prey. For a moment, you thought your heart might beat out of your chest. Then, finally, he let out a low hum, almost as if he were impressed but refused to let it show.

Without another word, he turned, striding back to the front of the room, leaving a tense silence in his wake. You slowly exhaled, unaware that you’d been holding your breath. The weight on your shoulders lifted slightly, and you sank back into your seat, your quill still hovering over the paper.

You turned your head, drawn by the weight of his gaze. Gojo Satoru watched you, his expression unreadable, a kind of casual indifference that masked something deeper, something you couldn’t name. He didn’t look away, not at first, just met your eyes for a long, deliberate moment before letting his head slump down again, a silent punctuation to whatever this unspoken exchange had been. You rolled your eyes and forced your attention back to the lesson, willing your pulse to even out.

By the time you emerged from the classroom, booksack slung over one shoulder, he was waiting, as though he had planned it all along. He fell into step beside you, grinning the grin that always made you question why the universe bothered with him at all.

“Looks like you’ve been brushing up on Potions,” he said breezily. “I might actually have competition now.”

“You’re not all that great, Gojo,” you replied, voice flat with practiced disinterest. You waved a quick goodbye to Utahime and Nanami, your friends already slipping into the tide of students heading toward their next class.

“Besides,” you continued, “don’t you have Suguru to bother?”

He groaned theatrically. “Him and Shoko don’t have Potions with us first period this year. Absolute tragedy. If Suguru did, I wouldn’t have to spend every lecture napping.”

“You’re insufferable,” you said, scoffing. “How can you even—”

“Ask me anything,” he interrupted, hands tucked casually in his robe pockets, his tone too smug for someone talking about Potions theory. “Anything we learned today. Go on.”

You stared at him, wishing—for perhaps the hundredth time—that there weren’t rules against strangling your classmates. The image of your hands wrapped around his neck, his perfect jawline slackening, his too-blue eyes dimming, was fleeting but satisfying. Instead, you sighed, letting the moment pass.

“You’re a bastard,” you said, shaking your head. “I don’t have time for this. We’ve got Defense Against the Dark Arts now, and unlike you, I actually care about passing.”

“Ah, DADA. Another subject you just happen to excel at,” he drawled, his voice laced with mock admiration.

“I excel because I work for it, not because I’ve got daddy’s money and a legacy to coast on.”

“Convenient how you keep forgetting I’m better than you at everything,” he said, the grin widening.

“Not everything.”

“Oh, right. Because you’re the dueling queen now. We both remember what happened to that poor third-year's cat last year,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“And yet, I’ve beaten you. Twice.” You smirked, savoring the memory of those duels. “I am Head of the Dueling Club, remember?”

“Because you’re unbearable?”

“No. Because I’m better.”

“You still can’t get the Patron—”

“Gojo Satoru and [L/N] [Y/N].”

The voice was sharp and clipped, and you both turned as one. Professor McGonagall stood in the corridor, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.

“I trust,” she began, striding toward you with the air of someone who had better things to do than reprimand wayward students, “the two of you are maintaining decorum this year.”

You winced, the memory flaring sharp and uncomfortably vivid. Last year, an argument between you and Gojo had spiraled into chaos in the courtyard. Wands raised, tempers hot, and spells flying—until yours, a hex meant for Gojo, ricocheted off a stray shield charm and struck someone’s cat instead. The poor creature froze mid-leap, rigid and unblinking, to the horror of its owner and the delight of a small crowd that had gathered to watch the spectacle. McGonagall had arrived moments later, her reprimand as swift and merciless as her counter-curse. The scolding had burned itself into your memory, along with the mortifying sight of the cat limping off, thoroughly unimpressed. You'd received detention for the first time that year.

“Yes, Professor,” you said, your voice meek in comparison to how you’d spoken to Gojo moments earlier. “We were just heading to class.”

“Good.” Her sharp gaze flicked to Gojo, who suddenly seemed far less amused. “And I trust Mr. Gojo hasn’t been neglecting his responsibilities. If I find you late for your rounds again tonight, you’ll no longer be in contention for Captaincy of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Madam Hooch and Professor Snape will see to that. Do I make myself clear?”

Gojo swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, his voice devoid of its usual bravado.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, quickly masked behind your Potions textbook. His humiliation was rare, and you intended to savor every moment of it.

As you walked away from the corridor and towards DADA, your smile only widens. This year might just turn out to be more interesting than the last after all.

When you entered the Great Hall for dinner that night, you spotted Gojo immediately. He’s at the Slytherin table, a loose sprawl of limbs, his laughter a little too loud, his hair catching the light like spun silver. You glanced away before he hooked you in, too. It's a small, bitter truth: you would have liked to sit with Shoko tonight. But she was at the Slytherin table, and the social architecture of Hogwarts had always been unkind to cross-house friendships.

You settled instead next to Utahime, who is demolishing her plate with a ferocity that suggests starvation, and across from Nanami, who has arranged his roasted parsnips into orderly lines. You helped yourself to a pasty and let the quiet chaos of dinner roll around you.

“Do you have rounds tonight?” Nanami asks. His voice is steady, his gaze as deliberate as his movements. Everything about him measured, careful. A newly minted Prefect, he wore the title like it was a chore he knew he’d never be allowed to set down.

“No,” you said, reaching for another pasty. “Iori might.”

Both of you turned to Utahime, who paused her assault on a piece of roast lamb long enough to let out an exhausted sigh. “Of course I do,” she said. “I have rounds, I have Quidditch, I have first-years practically dangling off me like flobberworms. Did you know McGonagall’s been having me run drills with Itadori? That kid’s a menace. Eleven years old and flying like he was born with a broom in his hand. Eleven! At that age, I could barely manage not to knock myself out midair.”

“You got scouted at the end of first year,” you pointed out, narrowing your eyes at her.

“Because I broke half the bones in my body trying to,” she shot back, grabbing what looks like a slice of shepherd’s pie—or maybe baked potatoes. It was hard to tell anymore, the table a patchwork of dishes, all melting into each other. “Itadori didn’t even have to try. Just showed up and decided to be brilliant. No learning curve. No effort. Nothing.” She shakes her head as if personally offended. “I hate people like that.”

Nanami nodded solemnly, as if Itadori’s existence were a philosophical tragedy. You scarfed down a Yorkshire pudding, barely tasted it, and pushed your plate aside. “Going somewhere?” Utahime asked, raising an eyebrow. “You were eating like you had somewhere to be.” “Snape,” you lied smoothly, leaning back in your seat. “I had some errands from today’s class.” She snorted. “I heard what happened today. Good luck trying to appease that sourpuss.” You laughed, the sound light, harmless. It was an easy lie, so practiced that it slipped off your tongue without weight. Let her think it was Snape. Let her think it was anything but the truth.

The truth, as you glanced toward the Slytherin table, was waiting. Shoko caught your eye first, and you gave her a small wave and an exaggerated grin that she returned. She turned back to something Suguru was saying, and then, just for a moment, Gojo’s gaze found yours.

It was quick—imperceptible to anyone else, but it was there. A look. A nod. That was all it took.

He stood, his departure casual enough to be an afterthought, though you knew better. You watched him slip through the Great Hall doors, his frame momentarily silhouetted against the darkened corridor before he was gone.

You reached for dessert—chocolate gateau, custard—but left the ice cream untouched. No time tonight.

Something, or someone, awaited you. Both, perhaps.

“I’m heading up,” you murmured, pushing back your chair. “I’ll see you at breakfast, yeah?”

Utahime barely glanced up. Nanami nodded, distracted. No one questioned it. Why would they? You gathered your things and stood, your resolve quiet but purposeful.

The lie had been effortless. The truth, however, was already starting to make its demands.

You stood, smoothing the creases of your robes with deliberate care, before slipping quietly out of the Great Hall. The buzz of conversation receded behind you, replaced by the low hum of torchlight flickering against stone walls. You moved quickly but not hurriedly, your eyes darting to the shadows, tracking movement that wasn’t there. You were certain the white-haired idiot had taken the quickest route—through Professor Fig’s classroom, perhaps ducking into the dungeons if he had been feeling bold. Typical Gojo, always choosing chaos and convenience in equal measure. You, of course, were left with the scenic route.

A sigh escaped your lips, soft as a feather, as you veered left down a quieter corridor. It was second nature by now, mapping out where Filch would be at this hour. Filch was predictable. His blasted cat, however, was not.

Rounding the corner, you stopped short. Mrs. Norris. The yellow-eyed menace herself. She sat planted in the middle of the corridor like a gargoyle come to life, her tail flicking languidly against the flagstone floor. Those unnervingly bulbous eyes fixated on you, unblinking, as though she had been expecting you all along.

You froze, your hand instinctively twitching toward your pocket—not for your wand, no, but for something far more effective. You had learned her ways, after all. It had taken a few unfortunate encounters, a near-miss with Filch, and a fair bit of trial and error, but you had cracked her code.

Fish pie. Trout. Even a sliver of smoked salmon would do. You had kept a stash since fourth year, just for occasions like this. Slowly, deliberately, you pulled a neatly wrapped morsel from your pocket and held it out. Her ears perked up, and for the briefest moment, you swore her sharp features softened. She approached, silent as a ghost, her eyes darting from you to the bribe.

You crouched, placing the offering on the stone. She sniffed once, twice, then devoured it with alarming efficiency. Satisfied, she gave you a look that felt almost approving, before slinking away into the shadows.

You exhaled, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you straightened up. Mrs. Norris might have been Filch’s enforcer, but even she had her price. You glanced down the corridor, the way clear now, and continued on your path. What awaited you at the end of this journey—well, that was a secret you intended to keep.

The Hospital Wing loomed just ahead, its faintly glowing windows casting soft squares of light onto the cold stone floor. You kept close to the shadows, your footsteps light as a whisper, your gaze flicking toward the open door. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight, but you knew better than to trust the stillness. She had an uncanny way of appearing precisely when students would have preferred her not to.

Your hand brushed the cool banister of the staircase as you ascended, the air shifting subtly, growing cooler and quieter with every step. The torches along the corridor flickered faintly, their light wavering as if uncertain whether to welcome or warn you. You glanced back once, twice, the hush of the castle wrapping itself around you like a cloak. You were close now. Close enough to feel the familiar pull in your chest, an inexplicable certainty that drew you forward.

The corridor narrowed, the stones beneath your feet vibrating faintly, like the heartbeat of the castle itself. You reached out, your fingers grazing the smooth curve of a pillar, and paused. The walls ahead began to shift. Slowly, subtly, they rippled like water disturbed by a single drop. Then, as if answering an unspoken request, the stones crackled and ground against each other, carving themselves into something new.

The outline of a door emerged, its edges glowing faintly before darkening into a deep, obsidian black. The transformation was seamless, almost elegant in its inevitability. A smile tugged at your lips, small and triumphant. The Room always answered, but the spectacle never failed to enchant.

You pressed your palm against the cool surface of the door, letting it ground you for a moment. The world felt impossibly quiet now, the weight of secrecy pressing against your ribs. One more glance over your shoulder, a final check to ensure you were alone. The corridor was empty, the castle asleep in its ancient stillness.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open. It glided inward without resistance, revealing the familiar expanse beyond.

The Room of Requirement greeted you with its usual, maddening perfection. The cavernous ceiling stretched high above, shrouded in shadow, while bookshelves lined the walls in neat, endless rows. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the cozy seating arranged nearby. Round tables dotted the space, their surfaces scattered with parchment and ink. On the far side, a collection of training dummies stood silently, their worn surfaces gleaming faintly in the firelight. The space was vast and intimate all at once, a sanctuary conjured just for you.

But then your eyes landed on him.

Standing near the corner, his white hair catching the golden light like a beacon, was Gojo Satoru. He leans against a bookshelf with his usual infuriating ease, a smirk playing across his lips. His eyes, those unnervingly sharp blues, found yours immediately, and for a moment, you swore he’d been waiting here all along.

“Welcome back, Fawkes Junior,” he drawled, his voice breaking the spell of the room, his smirk deepening as he took in your expression. “You’re late.”

“No matter.” You shrugged, brushing past him and making your way to the sprawling pinboard that dominated the far wall. Tacked to it were parchment scraps and intricately scrawled maps of the castle, the grounds, even the surrounding Forbidden Forest. The parchment looked well-used, edges curling and stained with ink spills and hurried fingers. Across the room, a long table was strewn with yet more parchment, quills, and ink bottles. A small lantern burned low at its center, casting flickering shadows across the walls. Gojo had, at least, taken the liberty of setting up the space for that night’s work. Small mercies.

You shrugged your robe off, tossing it carelessly over a chair as you approached the table. “Let’s get started. How many requests so far?”

“Four,” Gojo replied, lounging lazily against the table with that infuriating grin of his. He tapped his finger against a short list he'd scribbled onto a scrap of parchment. “All from different drop points. I checked the rest last night, after rounds. Nothing new since.”

You leaned over the table, your eyes scanning the list. One particular entry caught your attention—a hastily written note, its ink smudged and nearly illegible. You tapped it with your finger. “Is this one from Reynard Willis? That new fifth-year transfer from Ilvermorny?”

Gojo smirked, his white hair catching the light in a way that made you want to throttle him. “The very same. Apparently, he was in desperate need of a Time-Turner. Got himself into some… personal entanglements he’d like to sort out.”

You let out a sharp laugh. “A Time-Turner? Is he insane? How does he even know about us?”

“Word gets around,” Gojo said with a shrug, though his grin widened. “Shall we indulge him?”

“Absolutely not,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “From what I’ve heard, he’s the type to lose his own wand, let alone keep something like that safe. No. Too risky. Reject it and take up this one instead.” You pointed to another request, this one penned in neat, precise handwriting. “Partridge Locks, seventh year. Wants her Charms grades adjusted from a pop quiz. Harmless enough. We won’t even have to touch her professors’ files—just a quick charm on the grade book.”

“Boring,” Gojo groaned. “Though you’re right. Getting caught stealing Time-Turners from McGonagall’s office would be catastrophic. You’re lucky you already have one. You get to parade around with something so precious while I—”

“I use it to attend all my classes,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “History of Magic and Ancient Runes are scheduled at the same time this year, and I wasn’t about to choose between them. Believe me, it’s hardly glamorous.”

“Still not fair,” he muttered, pouting. “Alright, fine. I’ll handle Locks. If I time it right, I can slip into Flitwick’s classroom through the dungeons.” He leaned over the map, tracing a path from the Hospital Wing to the Astronomy Tower. “Exit here, loop back toward the Great Hall, and no one will even notice.”

You crossed your arms, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Is there one for me? These other two seem simple enough. What’s this one about sneaking a love potion into the Ravenclaw Tower?” You plucked the parchment from the pile, scanning it. “Ooh, to Higuruma? Interesting. That could be fun. Though he’s clever—he probably wouldn’t drink it.”

Gojo snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Clever? Please. He’s a Prefect, not a genius. You could slip it into his breakfast tomorrow morning, and he’d down it without a second thought. Besides,” he added with a dramatic wave of his hand, “I hate sneaking into the Ravenclaw Tower. Riddles to get inside? Who has the patience for that?”

You laughed, a quiet, mischievous sound that echoed softly in the dim room. “Fine. I’ll take care of it. But if he figures it out, I’m blaming you.”

“No one even knows who the Marauders are,” he said, leaning back in his chair with an air of smug satisfaction. “For all they know, we could be an underground organization—some shadowy network pulling strings behind the scenes. It’s kind of brilliant if you think about it. Nobody suspects it’s just two bored students who stumbled across the Room of Requirement and thought it’d be fun to enchant parts of the castle to take requests.”

His grin widened, and you hated how infuriatingly infectious it was. “Come on, Fawkes, loosen up a little.”

“Loosen up?” You shot him a pointed look, then crossed your arms, leaning against the table. “You almost revealed to the entire Potions corridor that we can conjure Patronuses. Patronuses, Gojo. Do you even comprehend how much trouble we’d be in if McGonagall overheard? Let alone Snape. Although, knowing him, he’d probably let you off the hook and come after me instead. I’d be expelled before you could blink.”

You shuddered at the thought, and he snorted. “You’re such a goody-two-shoes. It’s honestly painful.”

“And yet, somehow, I still don’t know what your Patronus is,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at him. “The one thing I’m actually curious about, and you keep it locked up like some great clan secret.”

“It was all part of the mystery,” he said, his lips curling into that insufferable smirk. “Anyway, I’ve been working on something. A little… project. Something that might help us out.”

“What kind of project?” you asked, one brow arching.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He clicked his tongue, wagging a finger at you. “You think I’m just going to tell you? Please. You’ll see it when it’s done. Next week, maybe. Until then, you’ll just have to suffer in suspense.”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling dramatically. “I hate you, you know that?”

He grinned, all teeth and mischief, as though he’d won some unspoken game. You grabbed another parchment from the pile on the table and scanned it, a frown tugging at your lips. “Take this one, too,” you said, sliding it toward him. “A Quidditch request. Someone—oh, of course, it’s a Slytherin—wants us to hex a Bludger for next week’s Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw match. Anarchists, the lot of you. Just want to watch the world burn.”

He laughed, the sound reverberating off the high stone walls. “What can I say? Chaos is entertaining.”

You dropped into the chair where your robe was slung, your posture dissolving into a practiced slouch. “This year better be fun,” you muttered, your voice edged with a hint of boredom. “These requests have been so dull. Remember last year, when someone asked us to enchant everyone’s quills during the O.W.L.s? Now that was creative. I want more of that. Something… exciting.”

Gojo leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his gaze gleaming with intrigue. “Patience, Fawkes. You never know what the castle might throw our way.”

You sighed, letting your head tilt back against the chair, the flickering torchlight casting strange, restless shadows across the room. Despite the monotony of the tasks before you, there was an undeniable thrill in the secrecy, the subterfuge, the strange magic that bound you and Gojo to the whispers of the castle.

And somewhere, deep down, you knew this was only the beginning.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[cookiekissers]

hi!! as a shadow milk cookie simp, can i request a oneshot (or dating headcanons can work!) of shadow milk cookie x male reader

have a great evening/morning/night/afternoon

drink water and sleep well!

[Shadow Milk Cookie x Male Reader]

[head canons] [fluff]

Dating Shadow Milk can range from fun and games to him sleeping on the couch for pushing your buttons a little too much.

He'll always whine about you not forgiving him right away, and will attempt to help you get over your anger by telling jokes and acting silly.

And... it always works. You love him and can't resist his antics for very long.

He's a cuddle bug. Loves cuddling you and holding you whenever he gets the chance.

Shadow Milk loves when you help with his performances and acts as his assistant.

Even though you are dating, Shadow Milk will still try to dazzle and impress you every chance he gets.

Will steal your snacks before you can eat them, but he'll always replace them before you can notice.

Is constantly coming up with, and calling you sweet nicknames. They can range from cute things he loves about you, to silly and weird, to incredibly embarrassing.

"Oh, my heart's desire~ Where are yoooouu~?"

Its both endearing but also embarrassing because Shadow Milk does not let up with the nicknames even when in public.

Loves dancing with you in the kitchen during the night when you're both still awake and making snacks at midnight.

He's a yapper, and genuinely enjoys having someone who listens to him weave stories.

When Shadow Milk confessed to you, you were originally hesitant to believe that his feelings were true, due to him being the Beast of Deceit and all. He is still a liar. But... it is really a lie if it becomes true in the end?

I feel like Shadow Milk would only confess romantic feelings for you because he wants to con something out of you or use you in some way. Or at least that's how it was in the beginning, and he accidentally falls head over heels for you throughout the process of his long-con.

He would try to push down these feelings and pretend they aren't there. He's only using you to get what he wants! But... he knows he's lying to himself.

And the Master of Deceit, who is so used to manipulating Cookies and getting into their heads now finds himself unable to get YOU out of his head.

It annoys him to no end. And for a little while he'll try to fight it, his "affectionate" act towards you will become over the top. It will be sickly sweet and tinged in bitterness. Because a part of him believes that your feelings towards him are also a lie.

Of course you don't trust him, why would you? So your feelings and this whole relationship must be a sham. It's hollow and empty.

Shadow Milk will use his shapeshifting abilities to "test" you. Transforming into a "concerned citizen", he will ask you about your relationship with himself.

And... well he gets his answer. You don't know if Shadow Milk really loves you. But you do love him, and deep down, you believe that he loves you too.

[sanguineterrain]

"they're giving me a few minutes to try and talk some sense into you." With Jason? As either the speaker or the one being spoken to? 🙏

This one was a thinker to come up with an idea for but it was fun to write!!

jason todd x gn!reader. reader is a civilian turned rogue from experimentation and is jason's ex. reader has poison ivy-esque abilities. tw violence, threats, angry reader who tries to hurt jason. happy ending.

****

You've lost count of the days. You're not even sure where they're keeping you. It's a cell, but it's not in an asylum. It's not in a prison either.

Wherever it is, it makes your teeth itch. You haven't seen another human since you got caught. Once, someone tried to leave you food through a slot in the door, but you messed that up by grabbing their hand and trying to claw them.

So now the food trays get dropped from the ceiling. You're too weak to attempt any crawling ivy up there.

You're sitting against the wall dozing when the door slides open with a quiet chirp.

Jason Todd walks in, dressed like a civilian. He looks comfortable in his Gotham U sweatshirt and jeans, but you know better. You see the small blade in his pocket and the way he sets his shoulders. You knew him too well and for too long to think that this is a regular visit.

Still, you're shocked to see him. After all, he broke up with you.

"Well, this is special," you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your words. "Am I finally being interrogated?"

Jason looks at you mildly. "They let me have a few minutes to talk some sense into you."

You scoff. "They sent you to do that?"

He's quiet for a moment. Then he walks over and sits across from you, on the floor. He crosses his legs.

You can touch him from this distance. Hurt him.

"I can help," Jason says. "If you'd let me."

"Is that Batman I hear coming out of your mouth?"

That renders him silent. You take the chance to speak, drive the knife into his gut.

"So I wasn't enough to stay for before, but as soon as I cause a little trouble, get experimented on and become a real threat, you come running? Was my old self too boring for you?"

"You didn't bore me. You know that's not why we broke up."

"I don't know, actually," you snap. "You dropped off the face of the earth one day and now you're here."

Jason shakes his head. "I know. I'm sorry. I should've—you deserved better than me. I thought I was doing you a favor by leaving."

"Oh, God, you're a cliche!" You throw your head back and laugh, the sound hollow. "Don't give me that martyr bullshit. We were happy. You were a coward."

"I was," he says. "I was cowardly and selfish and stupid."

Your eye twitches. Jason's softness rankles you. What happened to the Red Hood who beats rogues into submission? Talking sense wouldn't mean an actual conversation.

Then again, Jason probably doesn't take you seriously. He only remembers you as the harmless civilian that would tend to his bruises and make him eggs in the morning. He didn't see you break out of a lab or destroy everything in your path until Batman restrained you.

He thinks you're good. Gentle. Easy to love. You'll prove him wrong.

"I could've killed if I wanted to," you say. "Did you see what I did to Dick? I did a lot of damage."

"I saw," Jason says, leaning back on his hands.

You grit your teeth. "Well, I'm sure he'd prefer me locked up. Bruce, too. And you. Two problems solved in one."

"No one wants to lock you up. Anyway, I wouldn't let 'em. I know how to recognize someone in need of a second chance."

That pushes you over the edge, referring to you like you're just a common thief on the street in need of mercy. You don't need anyone's mercy, least of all his.

You lash out, savagely bracing your arm and aiming for Jason's throat. He feints your attack and catches you both, landing on his back on the floor. You just as quickly wrap your other hand around his throat.

Your powers are weak in this cell after they injected you with something that burned, made the hatred inside of you shrivel up for a brief respite. In this weakened state, you have to make skin contact to inflict any real damage, and Jason knows that. Jason's beyond smart enough to figure out how your abilities work.

You manage to push out a single vine from your hand. It's a little brown, a little dead, but it's strong enough to curl around Jason's neck and hold on.

You hear noise outside, a muffled shout of alarm. Jason raises a hand calmly, signalling them to back off. You feel him swallow against your vine.

"'S okay," he says, loud enough to carry outside of the cell, steadily looking at you. "We're just talkin'."

"Is that what we're doing, Jason?" you ask, rage tunneling your vision.

"Sure it is. If I say we're talking, then we are."

"Even if I hurt you?" you snarl. "I'm a criminal. I went crazy. That's why they put me here."

Slowly, Jason rests a hand on the middle of your spine. It's warm and solid. Your stomach jumps at the feeling. It's been so long since he's touched you. It used to be your normal, Jason touching you, holding you, sharing your bed.

"You're not a criminal and you're not crazy," he says softly. "You're in pain, and you're angry, and this feels like your last resort."

Something cracks in your chest. The day you said those words to Jason rushes back to you. It had been raining and you'd found him on your fire escape, helmet off, eyes thick with tears. He hadn't been able to go through with his plan for Bruce.

"Why don't you use the knife in your pocket?" you ask. He could sever your vine at the root. It would sting and make you cry. He could make you weak.

"'Cause I don't wanna hurt you," Jason says. "If this is what you need to feel in control, so be it."

Your grip tightens. Jason grunts and rubs his hand up and down your spine. His other hand goes to your hip and squeezes.

"I can hurt you," you say, trying to believe it.

Jason nods. "That's okay, baby. It'll heal."

Tears spring to your eyes and you close them. "Don't call me that. You left me."

"I'm sorry. It's the worst mistake I ever made."

More tears pool. Your voice shakes. "They did awful experiments. They—I'm not normal anymore. An' I'm so angry."

"I know, sweetheart," he murmurs. "I know. 'M so fuckin' sorry. I'll kill 'em. When I find 'em, I'll hunt down every single one that did this to you."

"You just came back because I'm a case to solve," you say. Your vine is slipping. You want Jason to hold you instead.

"I came back because I missed you and because I wanna help you. It was a mistake to leave."

"What if this is how I am? Permanently?" you whisper. It's been in your head since you were lucid enough to realize what they did to you in that lab. What your attackers called a blessing feels more like a curse. And it might not ever go away.

"Then we'll go on from there," Jason says. His hand goes from your hip to your face. He strokes your cheek.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Your vine thins out and slackens completely. Tiny, red flowers bloom as Jason pets you. You quickly retract the vine, hot with embarrassment.

Jason graciously doesn't say anything about it.

"I wanna go home," you confess.

Jason nods. "I got you. Let's go home."

[cross-d-a]

something something about Caleb Dume surviving the genocide of his people and divorcing himself from his culture and remaking himself entirely in order to survive

and something something about orphaned Ezra Bridger who loves Lothal but doesn’t quite belong being adopted into a self-made-cobbled-together family of outcasts from multiple cultures

and something something about Kanan choosing to embrace his culture and religion again despite his fear and the risk it brings to him and his family

and something something about Ezra embracing that culture as whole-heartedly as he can when so much of it has been lost

and something something about both of being denied the ability to practice certain aspects of their religion because otherwise they might be killed for it

and something something about Kanan remembering how Master Billaba carefully sheared his hair and oh so reverently plaited his Padawan braid and held it gently between her fingertips and told him she would do right by him and told him not to be afraid and told him she would be there for him until her dying breath and beyond and told him that he was going to be a great Jedi Knight one day and told him “you are our future youngling and I will do everything in my power to protect that future”

and something something about Kanan looking at Ezra’s wild hair with something hollow and aching tucked between his ribs because he longs to show Ezra the devotion his Master showed him and her Master showed before her and his Master before him but it’s not safe to gently plait that Padawan braid behind Ezra’s ear because such a sign of devotion will mean death and Kanan can only hope that Ezra understands how much Kanan loves him and how much Kanan is proud of him and how much hope and life he sees in his Padawan because while that Padawan braid may be the physical link between future and past tying together generations of Masters and Padawans who have lived and loved and passed on because “we are what they grow beyond”—

Kanan knows that every moment has led to this and Ezra is the future his Master and her Master before her never expected but they would be so proud to see Ezra now and Kanan can only hope Ezra knows how proud Kanan is of him too and know when he looks at Ezra he knows everything is going to be okay because “we are what they grow beyond” and despite everything that’s been lost to them Ezra is carrying the heart and soul of thousands of years of legacy and Kanan looks at Ezra knowing he can’t give him that Padawan braid but he’ll be damned if he can’t teach him the things that matter and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do everything to protect the future he sees in Ezra’s eyes

[melliemell]

Pairing: Jouno x reader

Contents: NSFW, hate sex, penetration (reader receiving), forced intimacy due to circumstance/convenience's sake, horny people stuck in a cell leads to exactly what you think it'd lead to, Approx 3k. words

“Wooh, I believe in you, buddy,” you said, voice hollow. You were lying on the ground, legs stretched against the wall as you tapped your toes together. “You’re so strong and capable, Jouno. What a brain, what determination.”

A scoff followed by, “I have better things to do than rot away pathetically. How’s that going for you?” Jouno did not move from his kneeling position, ear pressed firmly to the ground as he concentrated. 

“Marvelously, actually.” You looked over at Jouno’s hunched back. You could see the bloodied rips of fabric perfectly from that angle. Being stabbed that many times must’ve hurt like hell. “I think I’ve reached a serenity point. Nirvana and all that.”

The panic had subdued from earlier at least. The small room you were both confined in was just as suffocating, yes, but your body felt light. It was nothing compared to the shock of being thrust into consciousness suddenly, the sensation of your muscles twitch and move as you commanded them still oddly weird. The vampiric influence had lifted somehow, leaving freedom in its wake.

Something had happened. 

But your memories felt like distant dreams. Your body barely registered as your own, even as you watched your fingers flex and stretch before your eyes.

“Your delusions are not amusing me at the moment,” Jouno said. You could tell his exasperation was building, tapping against the floor and walls as he moved about. It was probably a first his senses weren’t quite as sharp as they used to be.

“You’re not much different. I doubt you could hear anything; there’s no one down here besides us,” you said, rolling over to lie on your side.

“It’s not down here I’m concerned with. Something’s happening at the airport.”

“I figured that much. Lucky us.”

“Your smart remarks aren’t as clever as you think. Your precious Agency could very well be in danger as well.”

That piqued your interest. Jouno despised all of you, and here he was–not throwing slander at your face about them. Peculiar. 

It was all of no use though. Not until you got your abilities under control, the effect of Bram’s vampirism dulling them enough to barely register they even existed. The room was locked shut, you tried enough times the both of you but the metal did not even budge.

What was left was to wait. And hope, maybe. 

“You giving up now?” you asked after what felt like hours of Jouno moving around you, pushing at places you doubted would suddenly make a hidden door appear. His shoulders were tense, hands crossed tight as he oozed restlessness in buckets. 

Jouno did not turn to you, but he raised his head to the ceiling with a sigh. “Your voice is annoying me, please stop breathing.” 

You tapped the ground beside you. “I’m good, thank you. Want a seat?”

“As if.”

Your palm moved against the rough stone. You observed it intently. “I’ll consider breaking us out…” You pushed firmly, feeling energy surge through your fingertips before a small crack formed into the surface. “If you ask me nicely.”

In your full strength, you could cause a whole tremor to pass through the building. Shatter an entire wall. But now–this was the best you could do.

Jouno turned to you, smiling gently. “Oh my, I would love for you to do that. It’s not below me to ask for help, you know. But I don’t see the point of it when you’re clearly a shameless liar. Or delusional. Take your pick.”

You frowned. “Give me enough time and I might. Your ability’s still trash at working too, isn’t it? ”

His smile pulled into a firm line. He raised his hand up, the tips of his fingers glowing into a soft blue light. Jouno’s frown deepened. “So it feels. Damn it.”

It looked rather pretty in your opinion. But you doubted he’d appreciate that comment.

You fell into silence again. Nothing to be done about anything for now. Jouno looked more concerned about this than you’d have guessed. Fists clenched until he finally sagged against the wall opposite you. His hand remained aflame, small particles constantly dispersing about. 

You almost felt bad for him. Knowing the betrayal he endured and seeing now his inability to right the wrongs. 

It was rather noble of him; to carry all that weight on his shoulders. By choice. Not that it would do him any good, but you couldn’t deny the warm feeling that spread in your chest, heart beating faster at the thought. Men like him were a rarity. If only you didn’t hate each other as much.

Jouno’s brows furrowed. He raised his head at you but only for a moment. He shook it dismissively, turning his face to the side.

You thought he’d be more talkative, to be honest. He certainly enjoyed playing an ass but the more time passed, the less sure you were of that. Despair was one way to put the feeling that oozed from this room.

You rose up languidly, blinking your annoyance away as you strode up the few feet distance between you. Jouno pulled back, raising his head as you hovered over his sitting form.

“What do you want?” he asked.

You dropped dramatically before him, hand resting against your cheek. “Your panic’s sipping into my peace bubble. Stop that.”

Jouno did not look impressed. “Contact security then. I’m sure they’ll be glad to escort one of us to a different accommodation.”

You snorted.“See? If I joke, you joke. Then the mood brightens and all’s good.”

“Aren’t you a charmer? Nothing is good.”

You dropped to sit beside him. “I… I know, okay? I don’t know what the fuck is going on and–” you huddled into yourself, eyes closing, “–I still feel weird and my memory’s fucked and my ability’s useless. I’m trying to keep it together, okay? That’s how I manage it, so don’t be an ass about it.”

Jouno sighed. “Rather pathetic way of handling it.”

“Hey, fuck off!”

“I would if I could.”

And he bumped you into the side with an elbow. You drew back from the pain but when you looked at Jouno, he was smiling. Not the ugly insincere smile, but a small, honest one. At least it looked like it.

Man, this was bad.

You breathed in deep, small droplets of tears forming in your eyes. “Fuck,” you breathed.

“Yeah. I can relate to that,” Jouno said.

“Something’s happening up there. They might be dying and we’re just– here. Doing nothing.”

“What a good way of phrasing it. And you were so calm about it earlier. Your Agency sure could rely on you splendidly as I see.”

Annoyance, sudden and spreading rapidly build up in your chest.“Don’t say that. I’m not–”

“Not what? Cowering away in here? Or should I wait for your full response?” Jouno was mocking you, his patience waning just as quickly as yours.

You turned to face him, palm plastered firmly over his head. “Take that back,” you said, voice like steel.

“Of course you’d want me to do that,” Jouno continued, eating up the whole interaction. His hand flickered, the particles just as bright, if not even more. “I was only sharing the truth.”

“Take–” you leaned in, face flush against his as your eyes blazed, “–that back,” you said, hand flexing firmly into the stone. 

Just as Jouno’s mouth opened, a quick response already on his lips, you heard the sound of cracking. You both froze in place. Small bits of ruble fell on Jouno’s shoulder, your hand digging into the stone so forcefully it had smashed a dent right in it. You watched in wonder the small spider-webbed cracks trailing up and down and everywhere. 

You didn’t notice when you activated your ability. Your chest felt tight and overly alive with emotions.

“Anger me again,” you said before you could process it.

Jouno’s hand had trailed up, feeling the cracks behind him. “That’s an inconvenient way. What are you, feral?”

You ignored him, mind spinning. You’ve never had this before. But abilities were heavily influenced by states; Atsushi was a perfect example of that. Too many emotions and you lose control.

Become dangerous.

You looked at Jouno, eyes blazing with the possibility. 

If you ever needed a more perfect man for the job…

“I hate men like you; it’s like you’re drowning in your self-righteousness to the point of not seeing the truth before you,” you said, serving the plate perfectly before him. “Talks of law from you is like decomposing garbage. It stinks disgustingly.”

Jouno remained silent for a moment, brows furrowed. Then a smile broke on his face, teeth sharp as he said, “Should I praise you? It’s impressive how people like you twist everything to ignore how pathetic they are.”

As if. “If anything you’re the one in need of a reality check. Accusing the Agency when we were clearly framed.”

Jouno pushed forward, getting in your face. “So you’d like to ignore the obvious criminals among you?”

“I would like–” you shoved Jouno back, one palm pushing his chest into the wall, the other cracking up the wall beside his head even further “–the so-called best soldiers in the world focused more on protecting it. What of some petty crimes?”

“Nobody’s above the law,” Jouno said, voice laden with pride that only irked you further. Like he believed himself an uphelder of that statement. 

What a joke.

“Then prove it. As if you could. How could I know you won’t hesitate to strike at your own? How?” you prodded, searching his face for clues.

“I won’t,” Jouno whispered, grabbing onto the hand beside his head, clutching your wrist. 

“You talk a lot. All words.”

“I would love it if you’d be sweet enough to break us out of here. Then I’ll show you.” And he gripped harder, drawing a hiss from your lips.

“You enjoy tormenting people, don’t you?”

“How could I not? It’s a lovely sound.”

“Disgusting.”

You wanted to punch him. Really, you did. Not like it would lead to anything. How he reached his position was beyond you. 

“You know how I’m this good at weeding out the scum of this world? Scum like you, to be precise,” Jouno said, his fake smile turned to you. 

“How?” you bit back, mouth twisting.

“You’re so easy to predict, that’s how. Even if you hide behind your self-righteousness– you still act one and the same. I’m merely being observant.”

A thought formed in your mind. Somehow the idea of catching Jouno off guard clutched you so strongly you had to see where it led. The pressure in your chest did not subside one bit, your emotions swirling still. 

Jouno’s smile widened as your answer did not come as quickly. He was good at reading you, alright, even your heartbeat giving away everything. But if you acted fast enough… 

You felt crazed, eyes wide with something as you reached for Jouno’s head, pulling roughly at his hair until you crashed your lips against his. You swallowed the momentary shock you could feel from him as his body seized up, freezing entirely against yours.

You pulled back just as quickly, enjoying the dumbfounded expression written all over Jouno’s face.

“Oh, sorry. Weren’t you expecting that?” you mocked, revelling further in the frown that pulled at Jouno’s lips.

“No.”

He pulled you quickly against him, no warning given. Your eyes widened as his hands grabbed at your face, lips already parted as Jouno kissed you this time. 

It was all a blur from that moment on. You were pushed by pure emotions, blinking away your hesitation as you grabbed onto him. Your lips parted, inviting him in. He was all sharp edges and snide remarks, but the way Jouno kissed was filled with passion. A hunger you didn’t expect from his as he cupped your face closer, stealing your breath by the second.

Jouno bit at your lower lip, not giving you enough time to protest as he dived back in, tongue sweeping over the bruised flesh. His hands held onto you, firm around your waist as he pushed his weight against you.

Your hand remained on the wall, but not for long if this went on. 

“Not a chance, you ass,” you whispered against his ear, before shoving him right back into the wall. You swallowed the hiss that left Jouno’s lips, and you felt the sparks of power travel through your other hand, denting the cracks behind him even further. 

You smiled viciously. This might be an even better plan than earlier. After all, it worked. Might as well push a little further…

Your pulled at your shirt. You worked on your trousers as you said without looking up, “Come on.”

Jouno’s fingers drummed onyour waist. He cocked his head. “Not a conventional idea, but I’m quite adaptable,” he said before fumbling with his own belt.

Jouno seemed composed… if it wasn’t for the slowness with which he was moving. Almost hesitation as you stood up, discarding your trousers in a few quick moves. You kept your panties for modesty’s sake. Not that it stopped you from straddling Jouno’s thighs as he finally pulled at his clothes down, pretty cock strucking out and already hard.

You could feel the wetness between your thighs, but it was nothing compared to the ever growing pulsing. It’s not often you got turned on this fast, but the sight of him before you definitely furthered the process.

Jouno was stroking himself slowly, fingers deft around his shaft as he breathed hard. The red of his hair matched prettily the growing flush of his cheeks. His lips were parted, but no words were spilling as you both took in the situation you were in. 

Jouno looked very kissable at this moment, ready and waiting for your touch. 

Gosh, you wanted to kiss him til he bruised. 

So you did just that, grabbing Jouno by the shirt as you sought his warmth again. He was not far back to respond, one hand grasping at your nape, twisting your face as he wanted while his tongue moved against yours. His other moved faster over his cock, drawing small moans of pleasure from his throat. 

And here you thought he was one of the quiet ones. 

Even better, knowing now the possibilities.

Your hand went down his chest, tugging playfully at his buttons, a sneaky finger trailing in between the open spaces to graze at bare skin. Every move you made fuelled more hunger from Jouno, the kisses building in passion. 

You weren’t kidding anyone, you were about to fuck this man’s brains out, no reservations whatsoever. Keeping half a thought to your original plan was becoming even more strenuous. Pulling your panties to the side didn’t help either, nor did Jouno’s groan as you guided his tip to your entrance, smearing your wetness atop of him.

You pulled your palm to the wall, breathing deep. Jouno’s hands were already at your hips, the anticipation clear in the way he gripped at your flesh. You kissed him again, wanting to savour every moment of Jouno feeling your walls stretching for him, his pretty cock sinking deeper into your pussy as you lowered your body down.  

“Oh, this is bad,” Jouno whispered against your lips, hips already thrusting in you deep. 

“How bad?” You smiled into the kiss.

“I’m not lasting long if you feel this good already, damn you.” 

And he moved, his pace faster and faster as you tried to keep your breathing. You didn’t doubt his words one bit, your arousal easy to match to his. The obscenity of it drove you closer to your peak, not caring in the slightest how pathetic it’d look if neither of you lasted long. With the way Jouno was taking charge, firm hands keeping you in place as he thrust into you fervently–you could only clutch around him, feeling your pussy flutter with every brush of his hairs against your clit. 

It was… it was a lot. 

“Faster,” you breathed against Jouno’s ear, keeping him flush against you with one hand as the other pushed into the hard surface behind him. You couldn’t see it, but you heard the sway of stone under your ability, the sound of it growing louder with every crack. 

“Demanding,” Jouno said, but it was no complaint; he did deliver, keeping the pace you wanted all the way till your thighs started spasming, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pleasure that had you doubling down, face buried in Jouno’s neck as you tried to stifle your sounds. 

There was no need–the bellowing echo of stones falling was enough to have you shoot up, Jouno pushing you back quickly as your eyes widened at the sight of the wall crumbling away behind you. 

You could only laugh, looking at the ceiling as you lay there on the floor, Jouno atop you now. And still inside. He didn’t spare you a moment, raising your leg up for a better angle before he was fucking into you again, seeking your lips fervently. You pulled him to you, hands buried in his hair. It didn’t take long before he lost it, his high nearing by the second when–

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m–” he pulled out suddenly, his spend spilling over your belly in hot streaks as he stroked himself through it. 

Jouno was panting, eyebrows drawn as he tried to gather himself. You did not let go of him through it all, keeping his in place against you. 

You needed to get up and get up now, but the shock of what you just did was still flowing through both of your veins. A moment is all you needed.

Just… yeah. You’ll be back to saving the world, you promised yourself. Just a moment.

[yoru-no-seiiki]

“Lie to me, cheat on me, I don’t care. Just do your job and all’s fair.”

— yandere! rent-a-boyfriend x apathetic! reader

tw/cw: no smut, but this account needs a revive so… reader is gender neutral but i hc them as a dommy mommy. more headcannony than a proper story.

You met him after he managed to con one of your friends at work. Posing as this suave, nice guy, who happened to lack the money to support himself. The one time your friend finally put trust in someone else, that was the time it was completely broken. Turned to ash and bones.

You remember the night your friend came to you, eyes red-rimmed and voice trembling as they recounted the whole ordeal. How he’d slipped into their life so seamlessly, with that charming smile and easy laugh, only to hollow them out from the inside. Every word he’d said was carefully crafted, every gesture perfectly calculated to lure them into a false sense of security. And when they finally realized the truth—when the money was gone and so was he—it wasn’t just their savings he’d taken. It was their ability to trust, to hope, to believe in people again.

And so you decided to take him for yourself.

You remember the look of relief, and then recognition before it settled into confusion with the slight hint of derision.

He was perfect.

“If you managed to fool them, then you’ll do a good job fooling my own parents.”

You needed him. He needed you. It was the perfect agreement. His confidence was alluring as it was powerful. The way he turned heads just by being in the room. And the sex? Simply amazing. I mean, if he managed to make your prude of a friend to buckle then it must’ve counted for something.

Sure, the look in their eyes when you brought him to work one day was horrific. But they’ll get over it you think.

After all, you’d made your choice, and you weren’t about to apologize for it. Maybe it was reckless, maybe even cruel, but there was something about him that kept you hooked. The way he carried himself, all charm and sharp edges, like he knew exactly how far he could push before breaking someone. It wasn’t love, not really, but it was magnetic, intoxicating. Besides, your friend would move on eventually—people always did— it was the natural course of things. You told yourself it wasn’t your responsibility to mend what he’d shattered, even if the shame clawed at you every time their gaze lingered, silent and accusing. You shrugged it off.

But then suddenly he began to act nice? You could feel the gradual loss of his impassivity. How he suddenly became interested in what you were doing, saying and most importantly disinterested in the money you gave him.

“Don’t you get it—? I - I can’t believe I’m even saying this myself - but I love you. I fell for you. And I don’t even know why—“

“Stop.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. A puff of moisture blows through the air as seasons passed and winter has arrived. Frustrated that the one thing you had over him was now seen as no longer valuable. But then realized . . . , “You know what? S’long as it makes the job easier for you.”

With the last smoke from your cigar, you press the tip of it to his nose. Ash, skin and snow collide.

You thought it was better for the both of you. He could have the so called love of his life, and you could spend a bit less trying to keep him tied to you as long as he was useful. However, what you needed from him wasn’t just love, it was strength, not this blubbering piece of mess that kept stuttering the moment you two were left alone.

He was turning weak. Pathetic. Something you didn’t need nor want in a partner.

Too bad he knew you too well. He knew that you were going to leave him behind. He knew that he only had moments to waste before all of this would be over.

So on Christmas Eve, he plans it all out. The meal, the lighting, the music.

He did what he always did best—he made those moments count. His words were sharp, like knives carefully aimed to slice through your resolve, each one designed to remind you why you’d stayed this long. He painted pictures of what you’d lose, of how lonely it would be without him, and how no one else could ever understand you the way he did. His smile was bittersweet, a mask for the desperation lurking underneath.

And it ends with a cheer,

all of this so that he could drug you.

And at last, with a kiss to your lips he mouthed, “Happy Holidays.”

[Author’s Note] Reader definitely comes from a Mafia family of sorts.

[compressingsins]

|| Mismatched

Yandere Grimmjow x Chubby f!reader

Warnings : Insecure reader, obsessed Grimmjow, body worship, aftercare, very touchy Grimmjow, little plot, detailed nsfw, marking. This is a nsfw 18+ fic, minors please do not interact.

“I want you to be mine, woman.”

Hello all! So I’m back (I’m not dead!), but this is just my comeback post! I know I haven’t posted in an entire year, but now I’m back and I’m gonna try to post more! I have a bunch of drafts I need to finish, so this is just like a post to show I’m still posting! Even if it flops which it might, I wanted to post something and here it is! Grimmjow is a hottie with little recognition, so here ya go!

Please do not copy or rewrite my works without my permission. 🫥

How'd you end up in a cave in Huecho Mundo with an Espada, was a long story. You're a Soul Reaper, yet he hasn't tried attacking you, not even once even if you did attack him. You were previously injured and when the Espada took you away, he treated your wounds at the best of his abilities, which honestly confused you. You've seen this Espada in action before, Grimmjow, one of Aizens strongest subordinates.

He frightened you of course, and you were even more petrified as you didn't know what he was planning on doing with you. What's even weirder is that you could sense no intentions of harming you, from him, his body sitting across from yours seeming carefree. It's almost like the Espada was... protecting you, or whatever you honestly had no idea. You weren't going to let your guard down to him completely, still watching him closely from afar.

The light of your Kido spell displaying your shadows, both of you sitting on opposite sides of the cave you were in. There was no fear in your body, but you had kept your eyes on the cyan haired male, though he was looking at the ground in silence. With a low sigh, you gulped to question him but you were cautious and simply wanted to know one thing. Once you cleared your throat, Grimmjow looked up at you across from him.

"Why... why am I here?"

Your body tensed from the sharp glare he sent you, and your nerves went into overdrive once he stood up. Still sore and injured from your previous battle with a Hollow, you tried your best in just backing away from the Espada, unaware of what he was doing. You flinched and pulled your hands in front of your face, shielding yourself as he crouched inches before you.

You were surprised since he didn't do anything, slowly dropping your hands from your face to see him looking unexpectedly calm. When you've seen him, he was always loud and aggressive, energetic and dangerous but for whatever reason, you didn't feel in danger right now. Why he was being this way with you was so unknown, as you didn't dare question him for it may upset him.

"Put your hands down, I'm not gonna hurt you, woman."

Only being able to look at him, you slowly let your hands drop to your sides and eyed the male who continued staring into your eyes. There was something in his eyes, like a hint of peace, sadness and concern but it was odd to you. If he was feeling like this, why, you didn't know but still you didn't want to cut him off. He was inches away from you, though, and it didn't fail to make you flustered.

"What's your name?"

An arched eyebrow displayed your confusion, Grimmjow still waiting patiently for you to say something. That patience, however, quickly ran out as his aggressive voice rung in your ears.

"I said tell me your damn name, girl."

You jumped from that, your words almost instantly coming out but it didn't help the second of fear that penetrated your body, stuttering a bit over your words.

"It- it's ____..."

"____."

The way he repeated your name was... well something you didn't expect, something cute and honestly you wanted to hear him say it again. You weren't being weird with yourself or anything, but you just wanted to hear it again because he said it, like it meant something to him. Your name wasn't a name that was big or important, so that's why it made you feel the way it did.

You didn't want to upset him or anything but you had a question for him, biting your lip before your eyes trailed back to his face. The mask on his face interested you and it failed to scare you, and you found him particularly... sweet, in a way? He treated your wounds when he didn't have to, and with his clothes that he shredded to patch up the cuts amongst your skin.

Gulping harshly on your spit, swallowing the lump in your throat, you prepared yourself once more to question him.

"May I ask... why did you, bring me... here?"

An ice cold glare was shot at you, making your breath hitch and your body once again began to try and instinctively retreat. Once he saw that, his blue eyes softened and stared you down like before, calm and collected. Still, he didn't seem of a threat or like he was going to harm you so almost instantly, you relaxed.

"I want you to be mine, woman."

You couldn't believe how straight forward he was, a gasp of air escaping you a second after hearing his bold words. Was he serious, you're a Soul Reaper and he's an Espada, that was near impossible. Besides, you think you're basic and he's particularly handsome, so you didn't understand why he supposedly wanted you.

Also as a different race, you would expect him to want one of the same as him and not an enemy. You were honestly going to deny it but you didn't know how to, maybe he'd get upset and aggressive like he usually is when you see him in the World of the Living. You knew you couldn't match him at all, so you didn't want to risk that besides the fact that you're still injured.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

You couldn't tell if he was serious or not but you were all ears right now, curious as to why he wanted you to be his. You didn't know what he really wanted and maybe his words were true but it too made you think that it was all a trick, a trick to give up information. You really didn't have any but you had enough, some that would be very futile to give up.

"We're enemies, why? That doesn't seem... logical."

For a brief moment he was silent, observing your face that was slightly contorted in confusion. A growl emitted from his throat, overflowing through his mouth once it opened to speak.

"You interested me, when I first saw you. Originally, I was just supposed to bring you back with me but seeing you on multiple occasions made me fall for you. Aizen wants me to bring you back for information, but I don't give a shit what he wants. I want you here with me even if you or anyone else doesn't like it."

"Why me? I'm a Soul Reaper and you're-"

"I know what the hell I am!"

His outburst caused your entire body to shudder with slight fear, but he calmed once he saw how scared you looked after that.

"I can't explain it but when I first saw you, something about you attached me. That's never happened before, with anyone, and I hate myself for feeling this way about you. Can't even fucking focus... just because you're on my damn mind."

He seemed like he was dying to tell someone this, specifically you, and it was kinda nice knowing someone felt like this about you. Still you didn't know if it was real or not, but you found your heart warming from listening to him speak. He was kinda... cute acting like this, making your body heat up with comfort that unexpectedly indulged your body.

"You're staying here to live with me, ____."

That shot a dart of fear through your body, hoping he wasn't serious with his words. You didn't want to leave your home and live in a World full of Hollows, though he is an Espada, a strong one at that. That still didn't make a difference because you didn't know him, nor did you want to stay in this hell of a place, leaving your friends.

"But I have a life in the Soul Society and the World of the Living..."

Your words were quiet, shallow and it's obvious why they were. He seemed to have expected your timid and shy behavior, staring into your face with a sense of worry, worry that he'd have to force you to stay here with him. He didn't want to have to do that but he would, if you wouldn't willingly come. His question though, grabbed your attention...

"Come on, can you honestly say you're happy living there? Yeah, letting people talk shit and treat you any type of way isn't living. That's tolerating that shit..."

You could honestly say you agreed with him, gasping and looking into his eyes that shined with a certain sparkle your heart couldn't handle. He seemed genuinely concerned for you, like he actually wanted to be with you but you still couldn't trust it. He's of the enemy which makes it hard to believe anything he said to you.

His words seemed legit though, but that could've just been you being gullible and vulnerable to anyone, like most of the time. His face was unreadable and you didn't want to play yourself, just because he was the one responsible for some of your friends injuries. Nearly killing two of your friends was even worse, the thought tightening your chest.

You just couldn't come to terms with what was true and what was not, how could you trust an enemy? Even if he is telling the truth, how could you be with someone you've never acquainted with, let alone always fight when you saw him. You were surprised when his hand took a hold of your chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze before he let his hand retreat back to his side.

"You're too damn stubborn, letting those people run all over you, ____. I wanna protect you from all their bullshit, keep you here... safe with me. Honestly, I'm fucking desperate... desperate for you and if you don't willingly stay, I'll force you to so make your choice."

His face was contorted in anger but you could tell he wasn't upset, no bad energy radiating off of him which relieved your tension just slightly. Maybe he was right, you were gullible, because you were honestly believing everything he was saying to you. Disappointed as you were in yourself just for believing him...

"Those damn idiots don't deserve you." You didn't understand why he was being this way, only seeming to want to kill everything he came across, "You fucking let them push you around, just because you're weaker than them. You shouldn't be scared of those pieces of shit..."

He wasn't lying when he said your supposed to be friends talked shit about you, but you always just thought it was on a joking level. Even if it occured nearly everyday, you still just took their words as jokes. When he called you weak though, it made you gasp out in shame and disappointment, though you do need more training.

Just haven't realized you were as weak as he made you seem caused a wave of embarrassment to flood your veins. A growl that emitted from his chest averted your gaze back to his face, seeing him a little closer to you, on both his knees with his face closer to yours. Your entire body tensed, your cheeks ghosting with crimson shades that changed your skin nearly entirely.

He didn't seem phased by how close he was to you, taking in your flushed face. You could easily forgive people but him, Grimmjow, he wrecked havoc on so many of your friends but... he also seemed genuine, and you didn't know if you were desperate but you were considering it. Now that he said what he said previously, you realize that you do get pushed around more than you thought.

Your eyes went to his face, hearing a slight uneasy breath escape him, his cheeks quickly fading as red faintly appeared. Maybe you weren't desperate, maybe he was meant to take you away for some reason, a reason you couldn't pinpoint. Your heart kept jolting for the male, the enemy and you didn't think you would feel for someone who's done so many bad things to you. Not specifically but to your... friends?

Were they really your friends, you didn't know because everything he said was true. Maybe you were just tolerating them since you really didn't have anyone else, though, you did have other friends that genuinely cared for you. Most of them do push you around, but then there is that one group that loves and cares for you.

That's why you didn't know if you should stay...

"Even if you're not as strong as most, I can protect you... keep you safe."

When his hands went to your body, you were surprised with how calm your mind and body seemed to be, practically inviting him to touch your figure. His hands were going to your thighs, just before slowly ghosting to your hips which brung your bodies close together. Your breath did catch in your throat, though.

He just let his hands rest on your hips though, softly sinking his claws in your flesh which finally made you tense. Still, he was looking into your face with that same expression but he wasn't mad, like it was his normal expression. You were practically being pulled to his chest only a few inches away, fortunately.

"So what, you gonna stay wimme or not woman?”

You bit your lip, letting your mind go into a frenzy of scrambled thoughts, trying its best to find the correct words for you to speak. You wanted to see your friends but you also didn't want to get hurt, considering how he confirmed that he'd force you if you don't. Maybe he'd even hurt your friends back home and you honestly didn't want that. You had your answer, the one you didn't think you'd pick, in the beginning...

"I'll... I'll stay with you... Grimmjow."

As you said his name, your eyes averted to his face that turned calm, a wicked grin spreading across his face before he latched his lips onto yours. It was so surprising that you barely took in a breath but easily melted into his lips that were somewhat rough, though, it drummed your heart. It wasn't a minute after until he let his long tongue slip into your mouth, letting his thicker muscle dance and caress your own that barely had any control.

Your hands instinctively went to the big set of shoulders before you, digging your nails in the flesh as your eyes shut to succumb into the kiss of Grimmjow. He was growling into the kiss, flushing his body with yours to maneuver his hands to your ass, grasping handfuls of it that made you flinch and push at his chest.

Almost instantly, Grimmjow released your soft cheeks to stare into your eyes, like he genuinely was concerned for your timid form.

"What's the problem?"

The way he acted was how he already was so it didn't really bother you, but you didn't want this to escalate far more than it should. It was obvious as to what he was trying to do and you didn't want to act on this so quickly, considering you've only just agreed to staying with him.

You didn't even get the chance to properly introduce each other, yet he was so determined to strip you and himself from your restraints. He was already half naked since he used his clothes to patch you up, earlier, thus leaving only his pants and footwear upon his body.

Your body was getting hotter from his touch, however, which he could physically feel underneath his fingertips. You were grateful that he was giving you a chance to speak to him, as it didn't seem like that's something he'd do in the beginning, just from his attitude you've previously observed.

"I'm just... this is moving too fast, for me. If you want me to stay with you, you can't just rush me to do this with you. We've only just properly met each other..."

A glare was shot at you, a growl submerging from him but his grip on your hips tightened, keeping your body still. He obviously didn't want to harm you, though, and you felt a sincere sense of warmth seek throughout your blood, flowing to your brain that was mushy from his feather touch.

"Your body says otherwise, baby. After all, I've been straining myself the entire time from just being near you. I can't really contain my want for you anymore..."

You couldn't lie, when his hands touched your body, a wave of heat ran through your body, sending shivers through you, pleasurable ones.

"It'll be a low thing to force you to have sex with me, so I'll let you decide. But, your scent is... intoxicating..."

His voice sounded strained, almost painful as he spoke those words to you. It's like he's literally been dying to do something with you, but you were still confused on what you really wanted and what you wanted to do. Besides, you've only partake in these kind of acts a few times, three to be exact, and you never got to finish...

Just because the guys you did it with only did it for their pleasure, as they didn't honestly want to stay with you. It hurts you to think about it, so you can't really make up your mind if you even want this or not. He seemed extremely desperate, though, and if that was the case being the person you are, you wanted to help him.

You couldn't even get a word out, before he snarled out something... extremely vulgar.

"I've been wanting to fuck you full of my cum, for a very long time, ____. Being in a rut without someone to fuck, is so fucking annoying..."

He looked so defeated and fed up with it, you just can't help but wonder how long he's been in a rut. But still, that wasn't as important as your decision for him, if you wanted to do this or not. It was an understatement to say that you weren't somewhat turned on from just his touch, and that kiss added fuel to the flames.

Your mind was telling you how much you wanted this and so was your body, but your heart had a trust barrier that he didn't break through yet, still not believing him all that much. You wanted to because he seemed so sincere, so you had to bite your lip to brace yourself for your answer. Looking at him and placing a hand on his arm, he looked up at you which caused a gasp to escape you, suddenly.

"Well, if it'll help you then... we can do it."

In the blink of an eye, you were pinned underneath the bigger male, his lips latched onto yours as deep groans escaped him. Your eyes were wide, feeling as he grounded his hips with yours and began humping into your soft body, unintentional whimpers and moans escaping you.

His hands were gripping tightly around your wrists, holding you completely still against his warm body. Your eyes instinctively shut, melting into the warmth of his body, feeling your heat spasming around nothing. His lips on yours was taking your breath away, literally.

You didn't even realize you were panting into the air, until you heard a chuckle rumble from the male on top of you. Your eyes opened, seeing a smug smirk on his face as he stared down at your flushed crimson face. You could feel his heartbeat on your heat, the pulsing being violent that twitched tingles into your body.

He loved the way you squirmed underneath his body, you hardly realized his hands weren't on your wrists anymore. His voice grabbed your attention, though, your heart pounding from his words.

"Show me your neck, baby. I wanna mark you as mine."

You saw how sharp his teeth were already, so your body tensed just a bit and he saw this. His hands went to your plush hips, squeezing them in his hands to sooth your nerves. You gulped just before tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck that made Grimmjow lick his lips.

It wasn't even a minute after, until he latched his mouth onto your neck, really close to the lob of your ear and you nearly screamed once his teeth dug in. He was like a vampire, feeling a trickle of blood escaping from the punctured holes that were bubbling from your neck. His hands went back to your wrist to keep you still.

You bit your lip to conceal your shrieks, feeling his tongue working on the blood that was streaming from the mark he made. He seemed to be enjoying your taste quite well, for a minute you'd think he was actually a vampire. Though, his lips created suction around the mark, pulling at the flesh and the wound electrifying more than pain.

It was a pleasurable pain that made you broken-ly moan, your body shuddering and writhing underneath him, and it made Grimmjow smirk as you shifted your heat agaisnt the tent in the front of his pants. That movement electrified his hips back into motion, pressing himself harder agaisnt you as you felt his covered length slip between your folds.

A gasp escaped you, feeling how heavy and twitchy it felt, obviously he wasn't a small man. The thought nerved you, gasping and mewling due to the liquid you could feel streaming down your leg. Your own fluids escaping you and Grimmjow could feel it too.

Once he was sure he imprinted his mark into your neck, he pulled off of you with a popping wet sound, a string of saliva breaking off as he pulled away. You shivered when a breeze of air tickled the freshly made mark, Grimmjow grinning at your current state, flushed and trembling.

It wasn't long until he started tugging at his pants, your eyes widening in panick that he all to well seen. He didn't care, though, continuing to work on his confines that was tightened extremely around his length. He's never been this hard before, feeling like his cock would explode as soon as he grazed you with it.

"Wait, Grimmjow?"

"What now, woman? You wanna stop?"

In all honesty, you didn't, but you haven't done this in a while so you thought a little preparation would be necessary.

"It's just that, well... I haven't done this in a while, so can you prep me first?"

A growl emitted from his throat but he could understand, although he couldn't contain himself any longer. He just wanted to claim your body as his and that alone still brought tension in your veins, slightly shaking at the thought. You were confused when his hands went to your hips, lifting you up to suddenly be on your hands and knees.

He was behind you which made an sound akin to a herd of buffalo stomping in your ear. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, sending a warm chill to electrify throughout your veins. He was pressed up agaisnt you and hard too, you could feel the pulse of your cunt beating agaisnt his length that felt extremely thick.

"Just relax, baby. This'll feel good for the both of us and," He layed his chest agaisnt your back, placing his hands beside yours while his hips were now flushed with yours, "I know you haven't felt that delicious orgasm you've been craving, in years. But, I can bring you to that point.”

Your face heated from his words and it took you a moment to realize he was completely naked, and you could hear the smirk from his words. A shiver ran through you from his hot breath that fanned over the side of your face, his lips grazing your neck and back before he sat himself up. You tried so hard to look forward but you turned your head, trying to see what your body was in for.

You caught a glimpse of it, being so stiff and practically pouring thick substances of pre-cum. You didn't know but it looked like he was so hard that all the blood in the organ turned his length purple, enticing a harsh gulp in your throat. You nearly shrieked as his claws shredded your clothes, now being bare to his eyes, even your underwear tasting the same fate.

Your body tried balling up, since you were completely exposed to the handsome blue haired male, behind you. You thought he would stop here, until you felt his hands roaming your body, quiet praising coming from him.

"Damnit, so fucking sexy... so damn soft..!"

Instantly, your eyes beaded with tears that stung the corners, just because you've always wanted to hear those words from someone. At least something like that. His nails were digging into your skin, slightly letting them drag across to feel you shivering and tingling underneath him. A smack to your ass made you shudder, jolting forward from the sting behind it.

He grinned to himself, loving how your cheeks jiggled with every little movement he made you do. He wasn't one for preparing but he wanted you to feel good too, not only that, but he wanted to make you cum. He wanted your orgasm to be intense and that's what he's intending, as he knows he can give you that intense high you so desperately and obviously wanted.

"I'm more bigger than these average little shits, so you may wanna prepare yourself~"

"Grimm-"

Your words were short once you felt his tip sliding in, feeling quite thicker and bigger than it looked, when you saw it. Your chest fell to the ground, feeling Grimmjow lay his chest agaisnt your back, carefully thrusting his hips to get you to open up to him. You didn't know it, but Grimmjow was struggling to keep his composure, his eyes tightened shut and his teeth gritting the more he slid in.

"Shit..!"

His hands were now on yours, balling up and squeezing your smaller hands in his. You let out a hoarse cry of slight pain, feeling how wide you were being stretched from his thick length. Grimmjow was literally moaning agaisnt your neck, trying his best to latch onto you but failing as your walls struggled to let him in.

You were far tighter than he'd think you'd be but it was a bonus, tensing up his body as he tried to push himself into you. He couldn't though, your walls squeezing extremely tight around only the tip and some inches, his right hand going to your hip to pull you back on him. He didn't expect this extreme tightness, his eyes nearly tearing up from how good this felt.

"____! You needa... you gotta relax, damn..!"

You were trying your best to relax, pressing your arms on the ground and laying your head on top of both of them. That was kind of a mistake, now you could see him entering your body, being way bigger than he seemed to be a moment ago. This sight only made you tighten around him, vulgar moans escaping the both of you.

He rested his chin on the nape of your neck, placing both hands firmly on your hips before he naturally began prying your insides open. Instant near screams escaped you, and rumbling moans secreted pass his gritted teeth. You didn't know if it was from pain or pleasure, your noises only seeming to encourage the male to sink more wildly into you.

His pace was slow, but the thickness of his length made it all the more pleasurable feeling those pulsing veins dragging agaisnt your velvet walls. You tried suppressing your moans but his hips began snapping harshly into yours, now that he was fully inside of you, feeling how his balls lightly tapped your already drooling clit.

You wanted to scream, when his arms wrapped around your waist, quickly guiding his big fingers to your sweet neglected pussy, rubbing harsh circles into it. The obscene sound of his hips slamming agaisnt yours made your walls clench around his cock, almost trapping him inside of your overly wet insides. You couldn't believe the warmth trailing down your cheeks, hearing the deep growls and groans of the male fucking into you.

His arms were extremely tight around your body, making sure he pulled you back to meet his thrusts, feeling the full force of his cock that collided with your spongy sensitive spot. You couldn't help the lewd screams escaping you, feeling that bubbling heat boiling in your abdomen, ready to burst as he seemed to repeatedly began bashing into that spot.

Even with his cock hitting every pleasurable spot inside your soft walls, he still managed to find a spot that spilled tears from your eyelids, feeling his warm breath fanning the side of your face. He was moaning directly into your ear, his chest rubbing agaisnt your back which both were sweaty from the intense session.

Grimmjow, however, took note of your tightened insides, angling his hips to fuck you in an upward motion, making sure his cock kissed that spot each time. He didn't know he would but when he heard you let out a howling moan, you could feel your cervix give way to him, Grimmjow gritting his teeth as it clamped down on the head of his cock.

His blue locks were sticking to his forehead, layed out from this situation, though he didn't even know someone could give him this much pleasure. He could feel fluids escaping his slit, massive amount of pre-cum accidentally slipping out and into you which felt so good to him. You didn't notice it but he was still making you feel good, too good in fact as you felt that hot coil in your stomach wind way too tight.

It didn't want to break which annoyed you, causing you to move your hips back against his, meeting his thrusts that nearly broke you. He could feel how much tighter you were now, gradually picking up pace and force that knocked the wind out of your lungs. You didn't even realize his fingers weren't on your clit anymore, but you felt the pressure of his body removed from yours.

His voice snapped you back into reality, listening to his broken moans as he tried to speak through the pleasure and the loud clapping sound made between the both of you.

"Cum for me..! Cum for me, ____! Fucking cover me with your sweet juices..!"

His hands were on your hips, harshly pulling you back on his cock before your body took note of what was happening, almost instantly feeling that high you desperately wanted arising. His eyes were trained on where he was entering your soft body, loving how he could see your juices sloshing out and around his cock, dripping onto the ground beneath you.

"Scream out my name, woman! Let these fuckers know I'm claiming this pussy... ngh!"

Not even a second after, you screamed exactly what he demanded you say, feeling that delicious orgasm electrify your nerves, frying your brain nearly from how intense this was.

"GRIMMJOW!"

He smiled devilishly at this but that smile instantly went away from how much tighter you became, feeling his own orgasm approaching and quickly. He could tell you couldn't really take this, seeing as your body desperately tried retreating from his massive cock and thrusting hips. That made him wrap his arms around your body again, holding you tightly to his warm chest that rubbed agaisnt your back.

You wanted to scream feeling him hitting even deeper inside you, your pussy fluttering and quivering around his thick length. From the uneven breaths that came from Grimmjow, you could tell that he was extremely close. He was slowly dragging his cock in and out of you, in return, you could feel the twitching and throbbing of his cock.

"Fuuuck..! I'm gonna fucking cum in you, baby..! I want you to take it all for me, don't spill a drop..!"

"I can't... can't take it..! Anymore, Grimmjow..!"

Another knot formed in your abdomen from his methodical thrusts, slowly yet deeply pushing into you, clearly lost to his own pleasure. You felt a cool substance on your shoulder, Grimmjow drooling as he nearly became delirious from the orgasm that broke over him. The force behind his orgasm hit a bundle of nerves inside of you, causing your overly stimulated pussy to gush all over him again.

This orgasm was more intense than the first one and he could honestly say that his was more intense than any past fling he's ever had. You're not a fling, however, Grimmjow wanting to keep you more than anything. As his seed seeped throughout your body, he continued to slowly piston his hips in a circular motion that stirred your insides. You could only twitch, your body spasming with every movement.

You barely registered his tongue slowly stroking your neck, placing kisses agaisnt it before he plunged himself deeply inside you, staying stationary to make sure all of his fluids got into your body. Both yours and his juices were streaming down your leg, leaving you relaxed but concerned for one thing. You couldn't say it though, soft sobs escaping you that shot a gasp from Grimmjow before he stopped licking your neck.

Sitting up but still buried to the hilt inside of you, the little movement causing you to moan softly, feeling him pushing his cock inside of you to stay there. A growl came from him, before he once again placed his hands on the sides of your head and his abdomen agaisnt your ass.

"What's wrong?"

"This is it..?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're gonna leave me, after this... it's okay, I'm used to it..."

He could hear the pain in your voice, a snarl escaping him and a gasp of shock slipping past your lips, as he wrapped his arms back around your body to hold you close to him. You could feel the rapid beating of his heart agaisnt your back, listening to his words that seemed... real, for the first time.

"Fuck that, I'm staying with you and you're staying with me. You're mine, you're not going anywhere I've already told you this. Whatever those assholes did to you doesn't matter, you're only gonna be with me, no matter what."

Your heart jolted, listening to him. This was right, this choice was right there's no doubt in your mind, anymore. He seems to genuinely care for you, feeling his lips kiss your neck again before he slowly pulled himself from your abused core. You felt a pleasurable chill run through your body, suddenly being on your back with your legs hitched up around his hips.

He was looking down at you, smirking as he took in your confused expression. Entrap-ping your body with his hands, Grimmjow inched his face closer to yours as he enclosed on your lips. Both your eyes closed in a sweet and gentle kiss, him pulling away to look into your eyes. You could honestly say that you believe him, and your heart is expanding for him far faster than you'd thought.

"We're not done yet, baby. I want you to look in my eyes, while I pound into this tight pussy of yours. You may wanna save your voice, we'll be here for a while."

You tried denying him since your body was overly sensitive, but a harsh thrust of his hips cut you off, already feeling his cock bashing into your cervix. Your eyes sealed shut, but his was staring down at your lovely face, bottling up the cute expressions you made. He knew you didn't know but he honestly loved you, and he was determined to keep you safe.

He wouldn't let those 'friends' of yours come in tact with you, ever again, though he wasn't going to keep you locked away. He had a plan for everything, though, he wouldn't allow anyone to be near you as they used to be. He doesn't trust anyone with you, wanting to keep you by him forever.

Truth be told, he'd possibly quit all of his evilness just to keep you safe. Yes, you were mismatched, but you were meant to be.