#with a little bit of forced bed sharing bc why not

[itostea]

care for me? (gojo x wife! reader)

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in which you’re forced to share a bed with the husband you’re convinced hates you

warnings: there’s only one bed!!!! suggestive bc it’s gojo, they’re both a bit confused, pic from lving yamada kun at lv999

a/n: part of the gojo’s wife series (i recc you read the fic before this one to understand some things), also i’m posting this stuff on my phone now since i’m on vacay …meaning format will be extra ugly💀💀

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“What exactly did you say to make the principal Gakuganji agree to us on a mission together?”

You think Gojo or rather your husband, doesn’t really understand how fast he actually walks. With the way he towers over every civilian in Japan and how much longer his strides are, you’re almost certain that his pacing is far from normal. It gets to the point where you’re jogging to keep up with him, a huff escaping your lips in exasperation.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over that, ‘kay?” He gives you a lazy smile and with the blindfold wrapped around his head, you can’t exactly see the way he glances over at you–gradually shortening his steps for you to catch up.

You choose to ignore his comment about “your pretty little head” and instead sigh. “Sator–I mean ‘Toru,” you say carefully, gauging the way he gives a satisfied smile at your correction. After the moment you both had in the kitchen at a dangerously late hour, he insisted you call him a nickname.

He gave some recommendations: my hubby, my king, the strongest and most handsome husband. Naturally, you refused to call him those nicknames in public and even denied him the joy in private. So to avoid his needless whining, you compromised and decided on “‘Toru.” The way he brightened up that day made you feel giddy all over but you brushed it off with the fact that you were just glad he was actually talking to you.

“You didn’t do anything bad right?” You inquire, shooting him a glare.

“I think what I did was reasonable!” He chirps, reaching in a bag of candy to plop some in his mouth—the same bag he insisted on getting before you both went on the mission. You can’t help but feel a bit meek when his fingers inch towards your mouth and he gives a toothy grin, beckoning for you to open. You breathe out an annoyed huff, slightly parting your lips to let the sugary treat on your tongue.

He smiles, leaning forward to let his fingers linger in the plush of your lips. “Good girl.”

The way your breath hitches is visceral and you feel the pricks of embarrassment probe at your skin. Your eyes avert from his and you quicken your steps, trying your best to hide the fact that Gojo Satoru was having an effect on you. You miss the way his smile widens at your reaction.

You still avoid his gaze when he catches up. “You know I’m the one who cleans up after your mess whenever you piss the higher-ups right? It’s me who gets the scolding!”

“Scolding? Would you believe me if I told you stuff like that won’t happen again?”

You pause, analyzing how he flashed a coy grin. Immediately, your eyes narrow. “Gojo Satoru.”

“It’s ‘Toru to you,” he voices, chuckling at how your frown deepened. “Relax. I didn’t do anything that bad. Just did enough for them to stop annoying my wife.”

You choose not to linger on how easily the words “my wife” falls out of your lips but it’s hard when he went so far just for your wellbeing. Your mind drifts to his lips pressed against your forehead, instantly regretting it as you feel your neck growing warm. You shake your head, trying to dispel the thoughts from multiplying, earning a curious look from Gojo.

Before he can ask why you went quiet, you stop in your tracks, looking at him with an expression so cute he nearly feels himself fall over. You click your tongue. “‘Toru. You annoy me more than them.”

He whistles, looking at the sight of the abandoned hospital–the location where the S-grade assigned to the both of you curse lies hidden. “Harsh.”

-

The lady in the front trembles as she inputs the data for the two of you. Her eyes scan Gojo’s wide grin and your blank expression that seems even more menacing with the red splatters on your clothes. You blink, tilting your head. “It’s not my blood,” you try to reassure her but that only seems to worsen her fear.

“R-Right!” She squeaks. “One room for Mr. Gojo, correct?”

Gojo nods with a hum, taking the keycard from the lady’s trembling hands. He gestures for you to follow him, walking with so much bravado that any onlooker doesn’t even question the bloodied state of your uniform. “You should’ve been more careful,” he says. “You made a mess.”

“Not everyone has infinity you know?” You mumble, following him into the hotel suite. Your eyes scan the seemingly fancy interior and furniture, not paying much attention until your eyes lock onto an unmistakable sight.

“‘Toru. Why is there only one bed?”

His disinterested hum only serves to make you grow more baffled. He shrugs off his jacket, cracking his neck with a hum. “That’s odd. I could’ve sworn I said two beds. The lady must’ve messed up seeing you all bloodied up. Must’ve scared her real bad huh?”

You’re almost certain that this predicament has brought you more stress than any mission you’ve been sent. And you’re amazed–no bewildered, that Gojo’s not even batting an eye at this.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re getting all shy now that you’re sharing a bed with your husband.”

“We’ve never done that before!” You squeak out, dropping your bags on the floor.

That was partially his fault, he thinks. Even so, he keeps his mouth shut. “You have any extra clothes you can wear?”

Even in your frenzied state, you still process the question, blinking in recognition. “No…”

He shrugs. “Then you can wear my shirt,” he points to the white button-up. “Might be gross but it’s better than nothing right? Besides that makes us even now. I got to see you shirtless when—”

“‘Toru!”

He grins an easy-going smile. “Ya know if you’re not comfortable with sleeping on the same bed as me, I can always sleep on the couc–”

“No!” You say a bit too quickly, straightening yourself out when he raises a curious brow. “No I mean like, I don’t mind that much. Besides, I don’t want you to hurt your back on the couch…”

“That’s the only reason?” He smiles and it’s not hard to realize he’s teasing you.

You nod, resolute despite your sweating palms. “Yes.”

“Then…” he shrugs. “You can take a shower first. I’ll leave the shirt near the door. Promise I won’t look. Unless you want me to.”

You can only give another nod, shooting a glare at his shit-eating grin. You take off to the showers, clasping a hand over your mouth as you silently scream in embarrassment. The warm water makes your skin feel hotter to touch and you only try your hardest not to dwell on the details. It’s just a night on the same bed together. Nothing more, nothing less.

You wish you could have kept that confidence huddled in your blankets–watching your snow-haired husband crawl into bed. You try not to linger on his bare torso for too long to be considered healthy and have to physically restrain yourself from jumping when his hand grazes your thigh.

He’s not wearing his blindfold or shades, meaning you can really see how his eyes watch your every move in interest. He leans closer, making you bite a squeak down. “You’re hogging the blankets.”

“Huh? Oh yeah,” you laugh awkwardly, throwing the fabric off your body for him. Gojo Satoru doesn’t have a favorite art piece but you in his shirt might just take the spot. He licks his lips, seeing how you unbuttoned a few buttons near the collar for more room–how you avoided his gaze. Cute, he thinks.

He raises a brow when you lay on your side, covering yourself in the blankets until you’re a heap of fabric. His lips twitches into a smile when he sees the way you curl up into yourself. Then again, he chooses not to mention it when he feels himself growing drowsy.

You’re not sure how much time passes but you can hear Gojo’s gentle breathing fill the room. You bring a hand to your legs, trying to ease away the goosebumps forming on your skin. At first, you assumed they were from nerves but now, you’re almost certain it’s because the hotel’s blasting the AC. And oddly enough, Gojo seems completely unaffected, even able to sleep peacefully.

You sigh, turning to face him. You’ve always known your husband was an attractive man but it’s not fair for him to look so good even while sleeping. His lashes are long and you find yourself staring a bit too long at his lips. Again, your mind drift to the moment when he pressed those same lips to your forehead and instead of being filled with embarrassment, you’re filled with a feeling that squeezes at your heart.

Subconsciously, you’re reaching for his face, grazing a finger down his cheekbones to the corner of his lips. His skin is smooth against your touch and you’re almost jealous that his skin was perfect too. You continue to map your way to his jawline, mesmerized at the sight.

“Enjoying the view?” He mumbles, his eyes closed though a smile crosses his face. You’re about to retrace your hand away from his face but he’s quick to clasp one around your wrist. You nearly squeak when he leans closer to your palm, his eyes finally opening to peer into yours. “Eyeing me when I’m asleep? I didn’t know you were such a per—“

“I’m not!” You yelp, snatching your wrist away from you him with a flushed face.

He hums, propping himself on his elbow to watch you. “Hm? Now you getting all embarrassed on me after you felt me up?”

“I did not feel you up.”

He merely shrugs with a grin. “It’s all good. I think you’re pretty cute too.”

You didn’t know it was possible to be this flustered until you shared a bed with Gojo. “I only touched you because I was cold!”

That wasn’t entirely a lie either. When you felt Gojo’s face, his skin was warm under your touch and you wondered if the rest of him was like that. Naturally, you refrained from thinking even further or else you really wouldn’t sleep a wink.

To your surprise, you feel see him pat the spot besides him. Your lips fall apart as you continue to stare. He only shrugs with a lazy smirk. “What? A husband has to make sure his wife’s comfortable right?”

It’s hard to say no when you feel the cool air of the AC bite into your skin—your limbs trembling. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, sighing as you scootched closer to him. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your frame closer until you’re against his torso.

You try not to dwell on the fact that you can feel how his muscles move against your shirt—or rather his shirt; how he nuzzled his face in your neck, breathing in your scent that this scene felt so naturally domestic.

You squirm in his embrace, shifting your hips around to find a more comfortable position. His arms immediately squeeze you tighter, making you squeak. “Stay still,” he says lowly against your ear.

“You’re holding me too tight,” you whine, wiggling your hips again. This time, his hand squeezes your hip.

“Yeah? Well if you don’t stop squirming, I’ll have another problem to deal with.”

“What—“ You say before the realization hits you and you’re left spluttering like an idiot. Your head turns to face him and you immediately regret it.

His blues bore into yours and you see how his lips twitch as if trying to hold back a laugh. “I—“ You start, turning away from him with your stomach doing flips. “Okay,” you squeak, clenching your eyes shut at your response.

He only grunts in response, spooning you with his chin atop of your head. Minutes pass and you relax in his arms. “‘Toru?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you being so nice to me right now? I thought you hated me?”

“What?” For the first time, he sounds awake. He leans up so you can see his hues peering down at you. You watch bemused as a tortured expression crosses his face for a second. “(Name), I don’t hate you. I never hated you.”

Your bewilderment grows. “But you…you never talked to me.”

He smooths a hand through his hair. “Can’t say I don’t have some regrets about that.”

It’s the same like last time, when the two of you were in the kitchen. He’s looking at you so tenderly that you can’t bring yourself to look away. “I care for you,” he continues, trying to pick his words thoughtfully. “Much more than I want to.”

He still peers down at you, so close that you almost think he’s about to lean in for a kiss. You observe him with a wide-eyed look, only letting out a little gasp when you feel his lips press against your forehead again—the feeling familiar to you. Gojo resumes his cuddling shortly after, squeezing your hip once more. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You widen your eyes, remaining silent. You’re at a list of words, momentarily left speechless. Even so, you reach down to press a hand over his on your hip, squeezing it lightly. “I know.”

Gojo thinks he sleeps the best when you’re besides him. You’re soft against him, fitting perfectly in between his arms. He thinks, there’s no way he was going to let this moment pass—and he was a man who kept true to his wishes. The next time he was going to sleep in his house, he was going to do it with you by his side.

BONUS:

“‘Toru…”

“What is it again?” He grumbles, though there’s no bite in his tone.

“Why couldn’t we just teleport home instead of going to a hotel?”

A brief silence follows.

“Go to sleep.”

[n0pr0mises]

𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗

𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚢— 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚢/𝚏𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎.

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠, 𝚏𝚎𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚍𝚜𝚖-𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎, 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 (𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏), 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚢 😔, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚎

All you did today was fight for every fucking thing, for respect from your coworkers, against criticism from your boss, with your family about what you were doing with your life, and now you can't stop.

Nanami recognizes that you need to be taken out of your own head and recentered. But you're stuck in fight mode, and you argue and push back the whole time bc even if you know it’s what you need, you just can’t let go.

And that just frustrates you more, almost to the point of tears, because you know that you are making everything harder for yourself and you're being downright mean to him, when he hasn't done anything except put himself in your path as an easy target.

Right now, he is part of the “everyone else” and you need him to force you not to fight anymore. you're home now, you're safe, you can let your guard down. but you just can't do that and you can't get those words out, so you just hope that he understands what you can't tell him.

And Nanami does understand. He always has a way of knowing.

He wondered, when you walked in and answered his greeting with a sigh and a hum. He had an inkling when you just shoved your belongings into a pile on the entryway bench. He was suspicious when you snarked at him for asking how your day was. and he was sure when you purposefully turned your head away from his kiss.

you have an unofficial routine when one of you gets home before the other. the first one home is who starts dinner and then helps the other begin their decompression from the outside world. sometimes it's light and soft. and sometimes it is not.

So he's rough with you. He grabs you, but he never throws you or pushes you. He holds you firmly, his movements sure and controlled. And as much as you back talk and push against him, he stays steady. the only thing that will let him know this isn't what you need, is that one word that you both know would stop all of this.

But you don't want that. you want him to make you let go, to give up your control, to stop worrying,

So instead, you try to pull away and he doesn't let you. he easily drags you to your shared bedroom and you complain the whole time. even as he undresses you, getting you to start letting the world fall away from you layer by layer. Your protests slow down, but haven't stopped, so he sits on the bed with you across his lap, bare ass easily within his grasp. He softly runs his hand up and down your bare back, giving you goosebumps, until you are a little less tense and your breathing has slowed. and then he smacks the flat of his palm across your ass and thighs.

You jolt and curse him, but he shushes you and holds your tighter. He tells you to count, because he knows that eventually you'll be too busy trying to keep track and forget why you're supposed to be mad.

You feel his cock harden underneath you, but he doesn't let you try to grind down against him. what he does do is lift your hips up just a bit, so your wet pussy is more exposed a delivers a harsh, stinging slap against it, causing you to let out a breathy cry.

His hand is a little bit wet now when he hits you, and it makes you feel some type of way knowing he's turning you into a perfect little mess for him.

By the time you've gotten to fifteen solid slaps to your ass and thighs, you're breathing heavy and kind of exhausted, lying flat and almost boneless across his lap. your eyes are a bit wet and the most prominent thought in your head is the sting in your backside and how you can feel the heat radiating from your own skin. and Kento is a master at providing a satisfying experience, not leaving any one area less red than another.

You shudder and jerk when he gently rubs his hand over your heated skin and he knows that you are almost there, but he needs to push you a little more. It's his job to look after you and he takes it very seriously.

So he helps you onto the floor with a small pillow under your knees (which he keeps beside the bed for this exact purpose). He arranges you how he likes and is satisfied that you are no longer pushing against his movements, but rather leaning into them.

Kento undoes his belt and pulls his painfully hard cock out. it's an angry red and the head is wet from all of the precum. Your mouth is already open, tongue eager for the weight of him on it. He rubs his thumb against your cheek before moving his hand to take a significant hold at the back of your head.

"Look at me," he says quietly, his voice steady and deep as always, lulling you even further into a tingling sense of calm. you tilt your head back as much as you're allowed so you can look up at him, eyes damp and mouth still open. the longer he admires you, you start to whine and he hushes you while guiding his thick length into your wet and ready mouth.

His head falls back, letting out his own shuddering groan and has to take a minute to just savor the feel of you around him. you hum around him, eyes fluttering shut and just holding him in your mouth. you're savoring the feel of him, how he fills your mouth, the solid weight of him against your tongue, anchoring you.

He pulls your hair gently so your open your eyes again, asking, "ready?"

You hum again and hollow your cheeks in a brief suck, indicating he can start at any time.

"Good girl." he praises while he starts to pull his cock out to angle your head and more easily fuck all the way into your throat. you immediately choke as he pushes it just enough into your tight throat. you easily accustom to his thrusts and relax further into his hold, the steady in and out of his tip into the tight heat of your throat lulling you into a sense of comfort.

And finally, you can't think of anything at all.

You've never felt safer or more at peace than when you're on your knees in your bedroom, Kento's steady hand gripping your hair just enough to sting, fucking his cock into your throat with shallow, grinding thrusts.

"I've got you, darling. just let me take care of you."

[daisies-daydreams]

…I know I just submitted one..BUT Miguel O’Hara and his busy busy self 😇🙏 so he’s at his desk being all grumpy and stuff totally focused and we are at home all bored and sad cause Miguel hasn’t came home so we get frisky and put on his white button up and send some scandalous pictures. We get left on DELIVERED. NOT EVEN SEEN. So we get a bit angry and sad so we get dressed and drag our asses to his office (with the bracelet we suddenly obtained..that he knows nothing about..) BUT WE COME BEARING GIFTS. Comida. And love. And lust. We go to him and nuzzle him and he’s still being a grumpy shit so we sit on his lap and grip his cheeks. We force feed the shit outta him bc he’s our baby and WE GOTTA FEED HIM. HES OUR BIG BOY. So we feed him and he’s grateful but bc he’s a tease he says how we shouldn’t disrupt him. We scratch his head soothingly and tell him we love him. Then like we stay like that for a while and he grabs his phone. He sees the raunchy photos and smut ensues. He claims that we are sluts and that we should’ve waited for him. degradation and praise. Also Miguel saying how we really ruined his work just for a quick fuck and how pathetic that is. And just for comedic relief..Lyla sees the aftermath and Miguel gets flustered.

Distraction (Miguel O’Hara x F!Plus-Sized!Reader)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Plus-Sized!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut w/ Angst Throughout (18+) Warnings: Sexting, Swearing, Praise/Degradation Kink (Use of 'Slut', 'Cocksleeve', 'Fuck Toy'), Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected P in V Sex (you know the drill), Full Nelson, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Miguel Being a Meanie Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Hello hello! I'm so glad to get another Miguel O'Hara request (I personally loved working on this spicy fic 🥴). I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Tonight was supposed to be different.

Miguel was supposed to walk through the door, exhausted yet relieved to finally be home. The two of you were supposed to sit down and have some home-cooked food, discussing the ins and outs of your respective days. You were supposed to do the dishes together, maybe dance a little in the kitchen, before making your way to the bedroom. And to top it off, the two of you were supposed to make sweet, tender love for hours before falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

...That’s how it was supposed to go. 

Instead, you reluctantly ate dinner by yourself after waiting for him for over an hour. Your body felt unbearably heavy as you put the rest of the food away and tucked the dishes into the dishwasher. You sighed when you stepped into the bedroom and flopped down onto your cold bed. Your eyes stung as you gripped the comforter, your jaw hurting from how tightly you clenched it. 

It wasn’t fair. 

Miguel promised you he’d be here tonight on time. He even texted you earlier that he had “one more thing” before he left work. It's felt like forever since the two of you had a nice night to yourselves. You sniffed as tears poured down your puffy cheeks and soaked the blanket. The room was filled with your quiet, muffled cries for a while before your phone buzzed. You pulled your head up and snatched your phone, a small glimmer of hope shining through before you looked at your screen. You scowled as you glanced at the notification for your email. 

“Why am I not surprised?” you muttered bitterly as you tossed your phone across the bed. You sighed as you fell back down on your back, eyes set on your shared closet. You huffed as you skimmed over the organized rows of Miguel’s shirts and jackets. Your scowl melted a little at the memory of you strutting around your apartment wearing nothing but one of his massive t-shirts. 

You laughed softly as you remembered his red, flustered face when you bent down to pick up your phone after you “accidentally” dropped it. Needless to say, the two of you almost had to buy a new sofa after he...

Wait a second. 

You slowly sat up again as an idea crossed your mind. You smiled deviously and bit your lip. You grabbed your phone and slipped your feet onto the cold, hardwood floor. Maybe Miguel needed a little more…convincing for him to finally come home. You hummed and swayed your hips as you flicked on the light switch to the closet. Your heart skipped a beat as filed through several of his shirts. Your eyes lit up when you grabbed a crisp, white button-up.

“Just you wait, Miguel O’Hara,” you chuckled as you pulled it from the hanger. You quickly padded over to the full-length mirror in the corner of your room and stripped yourself of your t-shirt and sweats, kicking them to the side along with your panties and bra. You bit your lip as you slipped your arms through the sleeves of Miguel’s button-up. You tugged at the bottom of the shirt and swayed side to side, wondering what your first pose should be. 

A smirk eventually crossed your face as you opened your phone. You turned around and showed off your curvaceous bum. You glanced over your shoulder with a shy, half-lidded gaze as you arched your spine. You nearly squealed excitedly after taking the picture when you thought of another pose. 

You turned around to face the mirror again, this time pushing the sides of the button-up away to reveal your breasts. Your nipples hardened against the cool air as you puffed out your chest. You squeezed your thighs together before looking up, your eyes just barely peeking past the top of your phone as you snapped the picture. 

You giggled as you looked at the photos before one last pose came to mind. You shifted your thighs together while turning towards the bed. You grunted as you adjusted yourself on the edge of the mattress, gazing at your naked reflection in the mirror. The sheets rustled as you spread your legs apart and dug your heels against the edge of the bed. You bit your lip as you spread your puffy labia apart, revealing your tight, juicy hole. You exhaled quietly as you took the last picture, a ripple of pleasure and excitement coursing down your spine. 

You nearly fell as you scrambled to the bathroom to quickly wash your hands. Your cheeks were growing warmer by the second as you grabbed your phone and quickly typed a message: 

I feel so alone, bebé. Won’t you come home and give me some company? 🥺😘

You sighed and fell back onto the mattress after you hit “send”. Thoughts of him seeing the photos crossed your mind. You wiggled a bit when you imagined him stroking his thick cock as he stared at your exposed, slick cunt. Your excitement dulled with every minute that passed without his reply.

You nearly fell asleep before a sudden crack of thunder shook the apartment building. You jumped up and looked around wildly, hands bracing against your comforter. You sighed as heavy raindrops pounded against the windows, the neon lights of the city blurred behind your holographic curtains. You yawned and rubbed your eyes as you reached for your phone. You instantly gritted your teeth when you opened your messages. 

Delivered 7:04 PM 

It was almost 8:30 PM. You shucked off his shirt with a short huff before stomping back over to the closet. You rapidly tossed aside several of your clothes before your eyes landed on a short, black cocktail dress. The corners of your mouth turned up as you bit your lip. 

If only Miguel knew what you had in store for him…

•••

Your black heels clacked against the polished floors of the Spider Society’s HQ as you swayed your hips side to side. A few Spider-People brushed past you, some turning their heads as you continued your determined stroll towards Miguel's lair. You hummed to yourself as you held a bag in the crook of your elbow, the smell of empanadas lingering everywhere you walked. You nearly jumped back when a small, yellow hologram of a young woman jumped in front of you.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. He’s in a mood tonight,” Lyla explained while pointing down the dark hall with her thumb. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“When is he not in a mood?" you replied. She pursed her lips. "Besides-I just wanted to bring him some food,” you said as you pulled out the plastic container full of empanadas. Lyla leaned forward stroked her chin contemplatively.

“Well…he hasn’t eaten in a while,” she reasoned aloud. You raised a brow at the AI. “Alright! Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Lyla said while holding her hands up. You smiled as she dissipated, turning your attention back to the long, dark hallway in front of you. Your heart skipped as beat as you stepped forward, the low humming of the electronics around you sending a shiver down your spine. It took a few minutes to trek down the hall, but eventually you walked through the wide opening to his lair.

You gasped when you gazed at the wide expanse of room, several different machines whirring and shifting around in unison. You slowly craned your neck up, sighing and shaking your head as you watched Miguel mechanically scroll through various holographic monitors.

“How did you get in here?” he huffed as he flicked two of his fingers across the largest screen and enlarged the video. You frowned as you rested your free hand on your hip.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” you clicked your tongue. Your lover paused before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You took the spare I had in my nightstand, didn’t you?” Miguel droned.

“Maybe,” you replied with a straight face. The large man grumbled.

“I don’t have time for your games. What do you want?” he grunted while waving his hand. You rolled your eyes at his abrasive tone.

“I just wanted to give my cariño some homemade empanadas,” you sang as you held up the bag. Miguel paused and turned his head.

“Empanadas?” he asked with a curious tone.

“Mhm,” you said as you took a step closer. The large man floating on the platform above you clenched and unclenched his fists as he turned around. You frowned when you saw his face: the bags under his eyes were dark and vibrant, his cheek bones protruding out more than usual.

“Fine,” he muttered as he slapped a button. You smiled triumphantly as the platform began to lower…centimeter by centimeter.

“Can you make it go any-“

“No. It only has one mode,” he replied bluntly. You raised a brow.

“You have the ability to create a trans-dimensional watch…and yet you made a platform with just one mode?” you piqued. Miguel narrowed his dark, crimson eyes.

“Do you want me to come down or not?” he asked. You sighed and tapped your foot as you waited. The platform eventually eased its way down before resting on the floor with a tired sigh. You sashayed over to him, your ass nearly spilling out of your tight dress as you stepped onto the platform. You frowned as Miguel went back to shifting through the various monitors, his bloodshot eyes locked on the giant screens in front of him.

“You can just leave the food on the desk. I'll be home after finishing this,” he grunted. You shook your head as you gently slid your hand over his wrist. Miguel blinked before drawing his gaze to your bright, half-lidded eyes.

“I have a better idea,” you murmured as you leaned closer. He tensed as you suddenly climbed onto his lap, spreading your thick thighs over his while smoothing your hand over his wide chest.

“(Y/N),” he said in a warning tone, his cheeks filling with a deep, rosy pink.

“Miguel,” you mimicked before tossing the bag to the floor. You quickly pulled the lid off the container, the savory aroma of the turnovers wafting through the air. You smirked as Miguel’s pupils slightly enlarged as steam rose up from the delicious, fried food. You cooed when you heard his stomach gurgle.

“You poor thing. You must be so hungry after working for so long,” you frowned. Miguel swallowed thickly as he tightened his lips. “C’mon hermoso-déjame alimentarte,” you whispered as you pinched his cheek [handsome; let me feed you]. He frowned as you pulled out one of the empanadas and traced it against his pouty lips.

“I know you want it,” you teased as you fully sank down onto his lap, grinding your ass against the top of his thighs. Miguel’s eye twitched as you continued to draw the corner of the empanada along his lips.

“(Y/N),” he grunted. You frowned and rubbed your other hand up and down his chest.

“Please Migs? I made them just for you,” you pouted and fluttered your lashes. Your lover sighed.

“Hijo de...alright. Fine,” he said with annoyed defeat. You smiled and lightly pinched his cheek again, making his frown deepen even more.

“Open wide,” you sang. Miguel scoffed.

“Ay coño. I’m not a baby, (Y/N),” he scowled. His eyes widened as you slowly pushed a bit of the golden, crispy empanada into his mouth. He moaned a little as you let the savory food linger on his tastebuds.

"There you go," you cooed. You wiped some crumbs from his mouth as he chewed, his cheeks flushing with pink at your simple touch. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he finally swallowed.

“So?” you asked. Miguel poked his tongue against his cheek.

“Good,” he replied bluntly.

“Just good?” you hummed as you brought the empanada back to his mouth. Miguel grunted he took another bite.

“What do you want me to say? Everything you make is excellent,” he said with a small smile. Your smile softened as you blushed.

“Gracias, mi amor,” you breathed as you wiped away some more crumbs [Thank you, my love]. You continued to feed him, his muscles relaxing with every bite he took. You heard his stomach growl again just as he finished swallowing his last bite.

“You want some more?” you asked as you already grabbed another empanada.

“Yeah,” he grumbled. You smiled and pressed the second empanada to his mouth. Miguel parted his lips as you fed him, your other hand stroking up and down his chest all the while. He sighed when you threaded your fingers through his dark, messy hair and lightly scratched his scalp.

His hands slowly came down to rest on your waist as he hummed in satisfaction with his final bite. You smiled and rested your head in the crook of his neck, relishing in the warmth of his chiseled body.

"Thank you for the meal, hermosa," he muttered [beautiful]. You nodded and traced your fingers a through his thick hair. “You know, I should’ve come home when I said I would,” Miguel sighed heavily. You tilted your head up and met his solemn gaze. “Maybe...maybe I've been working a bit too much,” he mumbled. His eyes softened as you cupped his cheek.

“I'm worried about you, Miguel,” you confessed.

“Cariño, I’ll be fine,” he assured you [Honey]. He frowned as tears welled in your eyes. “Hey…” Miguel said as he brushed his thumb across your cheek.

“Y-You haven’t taken care of yourself for the past few months. You never really come back to the apartment, and when you do you’re always so exhausted,” your voice shook. Miguel watched you silently as he kept his hand on your hips. “I love you, Miguel, and it breaks my heart to see you like this,” you sniffed as you gripped his suit. You stiffened when he suddenly pulled your chest flush against his as he buried his face into your neck.

“I’m sorry, cariño. I had no idea you felt this way,” Miguel said while wrapping his sturdy arms around your smaller frame. You nodded and squeezed him tighter. “But you understand why I have to be away so much, right?” he asked softly. Your bottom lip quivered as your heart sank.

“I-I do,” you said in a broken whisper. You took a deep breath as you pulled back, making sure to lock eyes with your lover. “Miguel…please promise me that you’ll at least try to take better care of yourself. For me…please…” you breathed as your puffy eyes glossed over. Miguel frowned as he wiped a loose tear trickling down your cheek.

“I’ll try,” he said with a gentle smile. You sniffed and nodded. He kissed the crown of your head as he rubbed your lower back.

“Gracias, bebé,” you murmured, your lips brushing over his collarbone. The two of you continued to hold each other for what felt like hours, your warm bodies pressed against each other in a quiet bliss. Your eyes snapped open when you eventually felt something hard brush against your crotch. A small squeak left you as Miguel squeezed your love handles.

“You know…you have been pulling me away from my work for quite some time,” he murmured playfully before squeezing your waist again, his lips dancing over your ear. You bit your lip and gripped his broad shoulders as you felt his cock twitch beneath you. “You've been quite the distraction, conejita,” he clicked his tongue as he slid his hand down your upper thigh. You gave a cheeky smile before wrapping your hands around the back of his neck.

“I can think of a few more ways to distract you,” you whispered as you arched your back. A low rumble came from his chest as he inhaled sharply, his crimson eyes lit with a burning desire.

"That's very tempting, but-" he was cut off when his phone started to vibrate. Your eyes widened as he reached over. Miguel sighed. "Sorry-my phone's been on Do Not Disturb for a while. I just need to check it for a second,” your lover said.

“O-Oh” you squeaked. Miguel smirked as he picked up his phone.

“Why are being so shy all of the sudden, hm?” he mused while opening his messages. You ducked your head into his massive shoulder just as his breath hitched.

“¿Qué es esto?" he piqued as he squeezed your leg [What is this?]. Your face swelled with heat as you remained stiff in his hold. You squeaked as he cupped your ass and tenderly squeezed one of your cheeks. "These are some very naughty pictures, princessa,” Miguel murmured as he kneaded your asscheek in his rough, calloused hand [princess]. “‘I feel so alone, bebé. Won’t you come home and give me some company?’” he read with a raised brow. You blushed as you felt his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“¿Oh conejita...qué voy a hacer contigo?” he sighed as he bunched up the skirt of your dress [Oh bunny...what am I going to do with you?]. You shivered as the cool air fell over your exposed skin, your thong barely covering your dripping, puffy folds. Your legs shook as he dipped his fingers past the soaked fabric of your panties and teasingly rubbed at your labia.

“Puta. You should've waited for me,” he chastised [Slut]. You mewled as he scissored your folds apart with his thick fingers. You swallowed while gently bucking against his hand.

"L-Lo siento, Papi," you whined while humping his hand like a dog in heat [I'm sorry, Daddy]. Miguel rumbled as he slowly pushed two of his massive digits past the rim of your entrance.

"’Sorry’ won't do you any good now, muñeca," he husked into your ear [doll]. You choked as he spread your tight hole, shallowing pumping the pads of his fingers in and out with short, languid strokes. He licked lips. "That's what you are, right? Why else would you come in here wearing your shiny heels and tight, slutty dress?" Miguel whispered before pushing his fingers all the down to his knuckles. You gasped and clawed at his suit as he filled you to the brim.

"Mi lindo juguete para follar," Miguel grunted [My cute fuck toy].

“Papi," you whined as he curled his digits against your spongey g-spot, a spark of pleasure bursting through your dripping sex. Your walls tightened around his thick fingers as he pressed his soft lips to your temple. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out of your gummy walls. You panted and moaned as you rubbed your raw clit against the bottom of his hand, smearing your slick all over his palm. You gasped when you felt his other hand snatch the zipper of your dress.

"Did you really want to come take care of me, or were you just this desperate for my cock?" Miguel groaned against your neck as he peeled the zipper down.

"I-I wanted to take care of you-promise!" you keened. You moaned and rocked your hips in time with the pumping of his digits as the top of your dress fell down, revealing your skimpy bra. His eyes lit up when he saw your breasts jiggle with each shaky breath you took.

Miguel smirked before pressing a soft peck to the top of your cleavage. You moaned as he messily kissed down the space between your two tits, his fingers rubbing your walls even faster. He met your gaze just as your warm pussy began to flutter around his digits. You whined when he pulled his fingers out, leaving your hole a stretched out, drooling mess.

“Turn around, bebé,” he rasped before spanking your ass. Your legs trembled as you slowly turned around and steadied yourself on his lap, your dress shifting down your plush rolls. He kept your legs spread wide for him before he steadied his hands on your hips.

You gasped when you saw a quick flash of light before his massive length sprang free from his suit. Your core fluttered when his burning shaft slapped against your pussy, his flush tip smearing pre-cum over your sensitive clit. Your mind reeled as he slowly rocked your hips forward, glazing the top of his meaty cock with your juices. Miguel shoved his face against your neck and inhaled deeply and spread your pussy lips apart with his thick, veiny cock. You whined and curled your toes.

“Please Papi,” you cried as your pussy slobbered all over his dick. His deep chuckling made your walls clench.

“‘Please’ what, (Y/N)?” Miguel purred. You swallowed and gritted your teeth as his member throbbed against your sex.

“Please…I-I need your cock inside me, por fa,” you gulped [please]. You hissed when he paused, his meaty length resting against your needy cunt.

“Is that all?” he teased. You flared your nostrils.

“Please fuck me hard with your thick cock, Miguel!” you begged and desperately ground your aching pussy against his length. You gasped when he wrapped his burly arms beneath your knees and pushed your legs up. “M-Miguel!” you squealed as your giant lover made your back become flush against his front.

“Arms behind my neck, mi amor,” he instructed. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as you did as you were told, making sure to lock your fingers together. Your eyes widened as he stood up, the head of his cock teasing your tight entrance as he steadied his feet.

“If you’re going to come in here dressing and acting like a slut…” all breath was punched out of your lungs as he sank you down on his girthy member in one swift motion. Your body had little time to adjust before he raised you up again. “…then I might as well fuck you like one,” Miguel finished as he slammed you back down. You couldn’t hold back your moans as began to snap his hips up at a brutal pace. Your body bounced and jiggled as he spread your tight hole wide open with quick, sloppy thrusts.

“M-Miguel, fuck,” you moaned as you felt his dick massage every inch of your tight, gummy walls. You dug your nails into the back of his thick neck as he panted wildly, his hot breath fanning over your pulse.

“Mierda-you wrap around my dick so perfectly,” he moaned while squeezing the back of your knees. [Shit]. You whimpered in reply, your mind becoming too drunk on the pleasure that throbbed from your stretched cunt to give a proper response. You squealed as Miguel wrapped his lips over your neck and sucked over your pulse. You mewled as your hard nipples rubbed against the inside of your bra with every thrust.

“Mmm, love how you drench my cock,” he groaned against your fresh, wet hickey. You knitted your brows as your puffy clit throbbed and walls clenched. He grunted as your pussy gripped his veiny length.

“Yes, that’s it-make sure you keep hugging me just like that,” Miguel rasped. Hot tears of bliss seeped from your eyes as he sank you down effortlessly. “My sweet little cocksleeve-all for me to use and fuck and fill with my cum,” he moaned as he wildly thrusted into you.

“Fuck,” you sobbed as you felt the muscles in the pit of your belly start to tighten. Miguel grunted as your pussy gripped his girth.

“You’re going to cum already?” he laughed. Your face burned as you bit your lip. “We’ve only been going for a few minutes-surely you can last a little longer,” Miguel hummed. Your chest burned at the fact that he had so much control while you were quickly becoming a drooling, fuck-out mess in his arms. You panted and squeezed your eyes shut as you desperately tried to stave off your orgasm.

“I-I can’t help it! Feels too good, Papi!” you whined. Your eyes grew wide when you felt something cold press against your clit. You gasped when you saw a long, hard-light appendage start to rub tight circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Miguel smirked against your neck as he continued to use you as his personal flesh-light.

“Never thought I’d use my suit upgrade for this,” he confessed with an amused grin. You rolled your head back against his chest as it continued to massage your clit while his cock mercilessly dragged along your gummy walls. You squeaked when he spread your legs further apart, your muscles burning in a painfully delicious way.

“Tell me princessa: who does this pretty pussy belong to?” Miguel snarled. You sobbed and thrashed your head around as you found yourself rushing towards the edge of your release.

“Y-You!” you screamed. Your lover clicked his tongue as he slowed down his movements, drawing a high-pitched whine from you.

“Come now: you know better,” he rumbled. You blinked away hot tears as your chest quickly rose and fell.

“P-Papi owns this pussy!” you gasped. Your jaw went slack as he pounded into you again, your inhibitions thrown out the window as you screamed his name.

“Good girl-good fucking girl,” Miguel panted as he raked his teeth over your neck. Your entire body stiffened as you threw your head against his shoulder.

“P-Papi!” you cried out as you arched your back. Stars flooded your vision as your body trembled with pure, unforgiving bliss. Your walls contracted around Miguel’s cock as he kept pumping into your slick, tight pussy.

“Mierda,” he sucked in a sharp breath as you gripped his neck for dear life while your orgasm tore you apart. You babbled as a ring of cream gushed from between your two sexes and seeped down his shaft.

“Miguel,” you murmured as a string of drool fell past the corner of your lips, your high leaving only static humming through your brain. You moaned softly as your pussy convulsed for the last time, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your nervous system. Miguel panted as he kept you flush against his large, chiseled body.

“Estoy aquí, bebé,” he breathed before pecking along your neck [I’m here, baby]. Your mind reeled at the sound of drenched “plaps” each time he brought his hips up. “You’ve made quite the mess on my cock, conejita,” he teased. You blushed and lowered your head. Miguel clicked his tongue.

“Ah, ah-I want you to keep your head up for me while I stuff you full of my cum,” he demanded. You shivered as his cock pistoned into your oversensitive sex, each stroke making your walls flutter and thighs clench. You gulped as you tilted your head up, the appendage still working on massaging and gripping your puffy clit with rapid strokes. Miguel sighed.

“You know, you really ruined my work flow-coming in here for a quick fuck,” he huffed. You whined at his words. “I can't think of anything more pathetic,” Miguel scoffed with a wide smirk. The tips of your ears burned as your pussy fluttered around his shaft, arousal coursing through your veins. Miguel sighed. “However...I also can’t help but want nothing more than for you to cum on my cock again before I fill you up,” he grunted. You arched your back as the appendage was nearly vibrating as it circled your clit.

“Fuck, Papi!” you mewled loudly as you felt the muscles in your lower tummy start to tighten all over again. Miguel grunted as he felt your cunt start to squeeze him in a vice grip.

"Say my name when you cum," he growled. You nearly choked on your own spit as your jaw went slack, the band deep inside you quickly snapping in two.

"Miguel!" you screamed as your walls convulsed around his massive girth, your vision clouded with white. Miguel growled as your cunt sucked him all the way against your bruised cervix, your walls eagerly gripping to his twitching length.

"Sí Sí Sí," he rasped as his thrusts began to stutter. You grew limp in Miguel's grasp as he heaved.

"Shit, I'm close. F-Fuck, (Y/N)!” he roared as he sank you down on his cock for the last time. Your eyes rolled back as he filled you, soaking the inside of your pretty cunt with his thick, milky white cum. Both of you moaned each other’s names as his cock throbbed and swelled inside your tight cunt. You gasped as hot ropes of his spend flooded your swollen walls.

“T-Take it. Take all of me,” Miguel panted as he rolled his hips, your pussy squelching as he continued to stuff you. Your greedy cunt milked him dry as his balls twitched beneath your puffy lower lips. Both of you panted as you caught your breaths, bodies swimming in the afterglow of your highs.

“You took me so well, cariño,” he purred before pecking the crown of your head. You gasped as he rolled his hips forward. "However, I'm afraid our night isn't over yet," Miguel husked. A sudden flicker of light grabbed your attention as Lyla appeared. The AI crossed her arms as she wore a cat-like grin.

“Damn, Miguel. You really put that porno you watched earlier to good use!” she mused while lowering her sunglasses. Your jaw immediately dropped as Miguel’s eyes widened. He gritted his teeth and furrowed his thick, dark brows as she faded away with a mischievous cackle.

“LYLA!” he bellowed.

————

Thank you for reading! 💖

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[aristia-pjoheadcanons]

hi✨adore your thoughts and headcanons to the moon and back with how detailed and in character they are. dark!percy has always been incredibly alluring and fascinating, so I was wondering about your presentation/analysis of him. if you're comfortable (if not, it's totally okay and just ignore it!), could you write percy and child of any "dark" like hades, or hecate, nyx (or whoever) god, who understands how scary and tough it can be when you and your powers are so destructive, and they help him to kinda adjust to this side of him and understand that he isn't a bad person for that (cause this guy already has a lot of self hatred). maybe kinda chaotic dumbass enemies to lovers? sfw or nswf - whatever works for you. sorry for this ramble! just so many thoughts about him...

hope you have a good time of a day🤟

DARK!Percy headcanons

authors note: Can I just say, I've been WAITING for a question like this. More Dark Percy headcanons everyone!! plss!!

warnings: mentions of abuse & neglect, suicidal and intrusive thoughts, impulsive thoughts, mentions of eating disorder, chaotic family life, Gabe Ugliano...

okay, this is a mixture of headcanons of his CHILDHOOD but also an ANALYSIS of DARK PERCY.

cigarette burns from Gabe. Not just because Gabe did it, some of Gabes older friends (a long time ago, before the lightning theaf book) told Percy to come closer and burnt it into his forearm. Gabes eyes turned into shock but then he poked a tongue in his cheek and scoffed in laughter, giving Percy a judgemental look - *its a classic look, the type of look you give someone when you're looking down on them.

Percy would be so angry at Gabe, sometimes he would snap and tell him to shut up because Gabe would watch TV late in the night and fall asleep with the TV on until morning. At some point, Percy opened the door and screamed on the top of his lungs to shut the fuck up, slamming the door, sleep deprived and exhausted, locking the bedroom door bc he was scared Gabe would do something - and sobbed loudly. He was just a kid, but he already learnt how to fight. Sally tried to give reassurance but Percy wouldnt open the door. The incident was deemed "nightmares" on Percy's part, and Sally let him sleep in her bed.

Sally and Gabe never shared a bed. Gabe snores, sometimes even has nightmares, other time she would bother Sally about a new babyboy they could have, as if Percy wasn't good enough to be his son.

One time Sally asked Percy if he ever wanted siblings. the truth is, yes, but with Gabe Ugliano? no way. fuck no. He said no in a really moody and almost bitchy way, and walked out of the house and went to school.

Percy had the habit of keeping his shoulders scrunched up when he slept. He still does, but he doesn't understand why his body tenses up when he sleeps - Gabe isn't there anymore.

He also had the habit of lowering his head, shoulders and hunching when he walked - but once he met Annabeth over the summer he kept his back more straight - and never hanged his head when he walked. He noticed and felt more relief.

When people asked what he was doing for the summer, weight was lifted off his shoulders when he said SUMMER CAMP - finally he had something to do during summer! Every kid in school went somewhere nice, now even Percy does. He felt like he could finally share a bit of the same intrests as everyone else. He could actually tell people about his summer.

You know when the teacher forces everyone to tell a little bit about their summer - now finally percy could say confidendtly he did somethign fun instead of making something up.

struggles with anger, but understand it got so bad he broke his own first laptop 3.5months of having it - he broke the screen in half with his bare hands. He regretted it so much and hid it but his Sally found out.

Regrettfully, this made Percy believe he would always ruin/sabotage things for himself, and that he doesn't deserve nice things. Letting his mother buy his clothes, never aksing for new clothes... whats the point?

Besides, Gabe was stingy with his money. Gabe even refused to buy shampoo which is stupid cause its cheap asf - but Gabe wanted the feeling of control.

the dynamic of the family and house changed. The living room was Gabes, not Sally and Percy's spot. Gabe even took Percy's side of the couch and his spot at the dining table. Percy stubbornly refused to move, but Gabe is scary and big for his size so he did it to be civil for his mother. He felt like he lost something that day.

When Gabe was out late, Percy would lock the door and put the chain on. Gabe would unlock the door and try to get inside, but the chain stopped him. Gabed huffed in frustration and Sally had to get up and open the door - which burned Percys heart because he realized that nothing could keep Gabe out.

Percy would generally be a very bitter person to be around, people would shy away from him and sometimes stop talking when he tried to join in.

self image, self-confidence and self respect was low. But actually scratch that, his self respect was high. he put boundaries down pretty fast with other people because he knew everything that gabe did was no, and everything that sally did was yes. but at some point he disliked Sallys touch just slightly bit, because he knew Gabe had held her hand earlier.

he would talk to sally for hours on the couch, but as soon as the door clicked opened he walked to his room and closed the door. He didnt want to be near gabe. but then gabe started to trash his room, and percy was basically forced to sit in the living room.

he felt like he was playing "family" or pretending everything was okay, as if Gabe wasn't neglectful, but he felt sick.

At some point Percy's anxiety and stress because to normalized within himself that he nowadays cant tell what anxiety even is - and he would sometimes even say hes never had anxiety, because its basically been with him from such a young age, he cant tell the difference.

pretending to be "family" was even worse walking around the mall with sally and gabe. gabe was just this big giant slob of goo that would follow everywhere, and gabe would even huff and puff shamelessly if they were taking too long. gabe even got angry if sally found something nice for herself, he was possesive.

started taking only an apple with him to lunch, 1. he thought he was fat. 2. gabe wouldnt buy anything he liked and they had to stick with the basics. 3.his lunch was embarrassing even though everyone ate cafeteria food.

he got so happy the first time he could bring something "normal" to eat or if he got money to buy lunch, his reason being that he could finally "blend in" insteading standing out as a "freak".

he has a burn mark on the backside of his ankle, near his achillies, burn himself bc of Gabe.

hates it if someone traces the cigarette scars on his arm, even hates it if Annabeth does it - he still struggles with his self image and probably wont like that part of himself until he grows old and gray.

one time he vented to someone about his childhood and they stopped talking to him. never spoke ever since, was afraid that someone would use it against him. hasn't even told his mom or sally half of the things Gabe said or did to him/behind his back.

one time gabe pissed on the clothes percy was wearing but blaimed it on percy. ofc his mother believed percy but it was still shameful for percy.

in second book of sea of monsters, a kid asked if percy let his mother buy his clothes - actually stopped letting his mother buy clothes for him after that.

he would naturally adopt people that were outcasts and be a friend - because people were rarely there for him when he needed it.

needs validation, but couldnt get it from school. his friends would praise him but he could barely accept those compliments because at the end of the day he was still a loser too.

his mother would be his studdy buddy, and tried to help percy with homework - but still found everything hard.

gabe got angry with percy would "dirtying everything" but Gabes the only reason why his mom has to clean daily.

Dark Percy would definitely develop from a young age, but it became a lot more present behind the scene of the books.

he desires comofort, safety and a space where he can be himself without having to walk on his toes around the place.

Honestly, NSFW

He suppresses his moans because he was used to being quiet when he was around Gabe.

He has jacked off quietly, watched any videos quietly, no sound and even with headphones get sscared that someone might hear.

One time he stayed up late bc of whatever reasons and his stepfather Gabe yelled "GO TO BED", the next morning Gabe complained about how loud Percy was when Percy was away at school (this was early middle school, school wasnt that far away). And his mother Sally defended him and said she believes that Percy goes to bed when he should/when she tells him to, this made Percy feel bad so he went to bed on time every since, or at least tried too. If he ever stayed up, he learn how to breathe quietly too.

The feeling of shame for touching yourself, feeling pleasure, and arousal was strongly in him from a certain age - Gabe's influence for even trying to be HAPPY or LAUGHING with his mother made him feel shame for any good feeling sexual or not.

[tonkatsubowl]

99+ missed messsages.

jing yuan x femdom!reader nsfw themes (STRAIGHT UP SMUT BAYBEE DONT BE A MINOR). read at your own risk. english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)

⪩ jing yuan can be a little bratty, so our trailblazer decided to punish him.

TERM DIRECTORY ◖y/n: your name ◖e/c: eye color ◖h/c: hair color

➜ jing yuan: ╰(▔∀▔)╯ y/n

➜ jing yuan: y/n y/n y/n y/n y/n

➜ jing yuan: y/n °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

for the past few hours...maybe two hours, your phone had been blowing up constantly from a certain military general. even as you continued on with your mission, your phone was consistently vibrating from the constant messages from jing yuan, who was here to annoy you.

the general quite knew you were out running errands that's related to your mission, but luckily for you (and not so for him), you were almost done with your errands...and finally, delivering the last package, you grabbed your phone, reading a big fat 99+ next to jing yuan's name. he really did spam you.

➜ y/n: what

➜ y/n: i'm literally busy, why are you spamming me?

➜ y/n: i told you to call me if it's an emergency

➜ y/n: you can't just spam me bc youre bored

➜ y/n: i miss you too but wtf

in truth, you really found it adorable. but you just wanted to scold at him for a bit. it didn't actually bother you, but you liked seeing him whine and act all cute over text.

➜ jing yuan: hi lmfao

➜ jing yuan: i just miss you. are you done yet? come home

➜ y/n: hmm

➜ y/n: yeah... i got something for you. a gift.

➜ jing yuan: woah really? bet

really, you just had something mischievous and dirty hidden in your sleeve...

...entering the premises of the general's headquarters, you find him seated at his desk filling out some paperwork. the moment you had entered, you could see that his eyes lit up, despite the fact he was quite a few distances away from the main entrance. you see him getting up from his seat as he walks over to you with open arms.

"y/n!" he greeted, welcoming you home. you could see yanqing formally bowing to you in the background.

"hello," you then murmur in his ear, "stop what you're doing. now."

jing yuan blinked, puzzled as you both embraced each other. he tilted his head, murmuring something back.

"eh? of course. what is it?"

"come with me."

jing yuan would blink before nodding, turning to yanqing and gesturing him to put away the paperwork. he then looked back to you, following you down the corridor, which lead into the bedroom that you both shared.

once the doors had closed behind you, you could hear jing yuan look at you with curiosity.

"eh? am i in trouble? look, i get so bored that i need to spam yo—!?"

you grab the man by the shirt before forcing him down to your height, your lips crashing against his. you didn't spare the man a single second to speak at all, as your free hand rummaged down towards his crotch.

"you brat," you curse, playfully biting against his lip as you slowly lead him to the bed as you two made out. you could taste the blood that protruded from the very minor injury you caused against his lips, "shut up and behave."

jing yuan was such a tease. sometimes he was a brat on purpose so he could be dominated by you like this in the bedroom, but this wasn't something he intentionally planned. but also, he didn't mind it either. he loved this side of you. he loved that you were basically wearing the pants in the relationship when it came to your guys' private life.

"y/n," he murmured, finding himself to fall backwards onto his back against the bed as you straddled him. he breathed heavily, embracing the familiar warmth of your hands as they were going towards his crotch again. you were undoing his pants, immediately taking what belonged to you. and rightfully so.

"shut up. did i say you should speak?"

jing yuan had a mischievous look in his eye as he shook his head, obeying your very command. he watched as you undid his pants successfully, before inviting the tip of his already-erect length into your mouth. you wasted no time.

"this is your punishment for annoying the shit out of me while i'm out working," you say, kissing the sides of his throbbing member, "now you're not allowed to work."

"fuck," he grunted as you took him whole again, breathing heavily. your hot mouth definitely had made his head swirl, causing him to not really think properly at this moment. you were already mindfucking him, and you didn't even do anything but have a little sweet taste of him.

"you're speaking again?" your free hands came to mess with the jewels that hung underneath his length, occupying your mouth with his member once more. you were punishing him, and even if he came, you would keep pleasuring him despite how sensitive he was feeling at this very moment.

jing yuan bit his lip, wanting to apologize, but he couldn't. instead, he breathed, clutching his fingers against the bed sheets of his mattress as you practically sucked the life out of him...and he finally gasped, his legs twitching as he felt the sensation of releasing his seed inside of your mouth just reaching at the top.

and you knew it.

so, you continued, guiding your tongue up and down against this skin, welcoming the blossoming of his sticky, hot liquid that immediately burst into your mouth. you swallowed every drop, but you didn't stop either. this time, you had nearly forgotten about the command that you gave to jing yuan, especially when he had started saying your name quietly.

"y-y/n...w-wait... ah— i just, please—"

but that didn't stop you.

and you welcomed the taste of his climax once more, swallowing every bit and drop that left his erect member. jing yuan was tired, but you didn't plan on finishing him...not just yet. you wanted your own fun, too.

licking your lips, you undid your pants and lifted your shirt, letting jing yuan admire the sight before him. he wanted to reach out to grab you, but he knew you didn't properly give him the command to touch you. instead, like an obedient puppy he was now, he watched you.

as you straddled him, you placed his erect member inside of you. you gasp quietly, sighing with relief as you felt your walls separate, welcoming the familiar, throbbing member that intruded inside of you. shifting your hips, you began to ride him, holding him steadily as you immediately began to pick up the pace.

"gh—" you heard him breathe against your shoulder, his arms wrapped around you as your rode him. you were rough, and boy did he like that. he was into it, and he adored this side of you.

you felt his tongue, teeth and his lips trail up and down against your neck, leaving marks of his love all over your skin. you were fucking him silly, and he could no longer think.

all he could truly really think about...was you at this moment.

but you were already in a good mood since you were practically mind fucking him, so you decided to reward jing yuan a bit. you gestured him to change positions, allowing him to take you from behind instead.

holding onto the headboard of the bedframe, you allowed jing yuan to thrust and to pump inside of you. you felt every inch of him hit deeper into your area, and it felt too amazing that you were beginning to fill the bedroom with your own moans as well. luckily, the walls were thick, so the both of you could be as loud as you wanted.

it wasn't long until jing yuan had practically came inside of you, but you knew his limits as he was ready to do it over again—because you were going to make him do it. the both of you spent the entire night just fucking each other silly, avoiding work for the day, and just basically filling you up with his seed. an unintentional breeding, but also...breeding you.

he didn't really learn his lesson, truth to be told. he would just annoy you to have these sessions again.

but you punished him every time.

[cellophaine]

Can i request a Professor Matt x Student Reader (she's like 21) where he tutors her and they spend so much time together he ends up falling in love with her but doesn't say anything bc he doesn't wanna scare her away one night he's walking her to her place it starts to rain they share a moment and he ends up kissing her she feels the same way its sweet and innocent (no smut plz i just want some fluff)🥺

Lost & Found

Pairing: Professor!Matt Murdock x GN!Student!Reader

Warning: professor x student relationship (nothing shady), troubled family matters, fluff, bad writing.

Author's Note: Happy exactly one year and two months since I received this request! I'm sorry for taking too long to answer, and I hope you will still enjoy it. If not, that's okay too!

Share and feedback are greatly appreciated!

GIF Credit

"Are you … listening?"

As if the fog was lifted, the curtains were drawn, and the stupor evaporated, you found yourself in Professor Murdock's office once more. Only then did you realize that you never left it in the first place. You ran your hands over your face as if to physically remove the protective film wrapping around your skin so tight you couldn't breathe. All you wanted to do was to sink into the softness of your bed and stare at the ceiling for hours, unable to sleep.

"Sorry, professor. I'm here. I was just– I've just remembered something I need to do, uhm … after this."

You forced your tired eyes to focus on the man sitting on the other side of the dark wooden desk. Your vision roamed over the pair of red-lensed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the slightly tousled but well-kept hair, the harbour grey dress shirt on his proper posture opposing your slouching. Everything about him was a contrasting reflection of you, and the realization made you sit straighter in your chair.

"Are you okay? You were quiet for a little bit there. You didn't answer my question."

"Yes, I'm great! I'm sorry, what was the question?"

You attempted a smile, not that it mattered, but you hoped it would somehow weave into your voice, casting a guise of genuine interest on top of the fact that you didn't pay attention.

"Is everything okay at home?"

You cast a tentative glance at him, taking in the slight frown on his lips. The question sounded foreign, slightly out of place, as if it had no right to be so ambiguous and unintentionally intrusive at the same time. You did not doubt that he was annoyed with your inattentiveness, which was what landed you in his office to begin with. You hoped that was all to it.

"No– I mean, yes! Everything is fine. Why do you ask?"

The words rushed out in one breath as if they were strung together and tugged hard by the defensive pull of your voice. If your abrupt outburst offended Professor Murdock, he didn't show it. His face didn't give anything away, and certainly not his body language, which stayed hard to decipher. But you tried anyway and drew to the conclusion of nothing.

"I received your midterm report, and it wasn't something I expected from you, especially after the excellent research you handed in a month ago. You've missed deadlines on recent assignments, and, on top of that, Connor has told me you haven't been paying much attention in class."

An icy shroud of dread settled over you. You knew you didn't do too well on midterm since you were sidetracked by a family matter on top of a busy schedule that left you no room to breathe, but to get snitched on by your professor's teaching assistant? That was the new low you didn't expect to hit. You tried to go for just enough to pass, but even then, it was proven that the bare minimum was out of your reach.

"What did you expect from me, then?"

The question was harsh, like a bitter retaliation that didn't come out right. In all truthfulness, the indignant remark was weak, just like how you felt at the moment. The unwelcoming feeling of inadequacy brought you back to the years of living under your mother's roof. You felt like you could lose it at the mere mention of expectations, of something you could only chase after, never able to fulfill. You released a shuddering sigh. The recent incident with your mother really messed with your head.

Professor Murdock cleared his throat; his body angled toward you in a careful manner as if he was approaching a wounded animal.

"You're a bright student, and … forgive me if I overstep, but I feel like there is something else going on outside of class that affected your performance."

His carefully chosen words manifested in an acute assessment pierced through your guarded exterior. The last sliver of resolve held onto its fleeting moments by the frown on your lips before fading away.

"Nothing I can't handle, professor."

The futile attempt sounded hollow even in your own ears, and you had a creeping suspicion that it didn't escape your perceptive teacher.

"I'm here to listen if you want to talk. My doors are always open."

Your frown deepened. How many times have you heard that sentence? One too many times, from one too many people. School counsellors, friends that didn't really mean what they said, and even your own mother. At this point, they sounded like a remix of each other, preaching the same words for the moral satisfaction of those who said it to you rather than your own good. What was the difference between them and what your Criminal Law professor had to say?

"Thank you. But like I said, everything is great."

You kept your tone light, letting the brusqueness mark the finality of this discussion.

"Is that all you wanted to discuss with me? Can I go now?"

You couldn't wait to leave this room and its confined undertone, but your professor motioned for you to stay. He opened the drawer on his right; his hand rifled over the Braille-labeled files until he eventually stopped and pulled out a slim folder. He pushed it towards you, gesturing you to open the file. You were met with your report, littered in red ink and Connor's neat handwriting, and on top of the page was a pitiful capital F.

"You failed midterm. For this reason and the fact that you have not handed in your last few assignments, I have to assign mandatory tutor sessions for you with two hours a week at the minimum. You are required to check-in with me every other Thursday during my office hours. I will reserve a time slot just for you, and I don't take absence of any reason lightly, unless it's absolutely necessary."

His stern tone sobered you, and you realized how serious your situation was. This meeting wasn't a gentle reminder but a warning of what was at risk.

"I'm sorry, but I can't afford to do that. Between school and work, I really can't."

Being one of the core staff at Sugar & Spice, your schedule was filled with classes and long hours at the bakery. The manager was too stubborn to accept that the shop needed more people, which made the job that was once easy and nice turn into a test of your patience and limit on a weekly basis. You lived close to campus, but the shop was so out of the way, making the convenient location wasn't worth it. You stayed for the above minimum wage, free food and drinks, and the hours that helped you stay afloat in this expensive city.

"Retaking classes will only cost you more financially as the faculty stated at the beginning of the semester. You will have to take summer classes if you want to catch up with your program in September, and that will only slow down your progress at Columbia."

You had to admit it; your professor was right. You dug yourself into a hole, even though it was involuntary. As much as you wanted to blame it on your circumstances, there was no point. After a few moments to calm your frantic mind and racing heart, you sighed, knowing you had no choice.

"Alright. I'll take your advice. I'll do it."

You closed the file before you, finding the red ink overwhelming your anxious state.

"Do you have any recommendation for tutors? I don't really … know anyone here."

It was hard to admit and even harder to say it out loud, but it was already out there.

"There's no need for that. I'll personally see to your progress. I willl be your tutor."

The library was crowded, a rarity for a late Friday afternoon. You eyed uneasily at the textbooks, laptops, and water bottles strewn on the tables, taking up more space than they needed to. It wasn't worth fighting for a spot with study groups that seemed to spawn nonstop. You turned to your professor, asking if he wanted to move to another area, and he was almost too eager to agree.

You took professor Murdock to the second floor, finding your familiar way to a small spot overlooking the courtyard, away from the buzzing of rustling paper and whispering people. You looked at your professor, taking in the way his body language seemed more relaxed than it was downstairs. He reached to feel the table before setting his messenger bag on it.

"It's quieter here."

The easy smile on his face made the casual assessment feel like a compliment. You nodded, getting yourself situated beside him.

"I know. I usually come here to slee– study. Study. Between classes."

Your face heated up at the terrible save. To your relief, professor Murdock didn't seem to find fault in your slip-up if the small smile and the quick raise of his brows were any indications. He simply suggested you start with your textbook alongside your failed report. Your study session began.

You worked in comfortable silence between questions and explanations. You appreciated how professor Murdock allowed you to re-explore the concepts and lectures mostly on your own with his help. The sky outside darkened as the time moved with the number of notes you had taken, which was a lot. The only reminder of time was a rumble in your stomach, which felt like thunder in the small, quiet space. You checked your phone to see that you still had about a half hour left. You would have ignored it if it wasn't for the gurgling sound, louder this time, once again reminding you that you missed lunch. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you attempted to cover the aftermath by clearing your throat. You hastily wrapped an arm around your midriff, hoping the thick layer of your sweater would muffle any impending noise. You were about to go back to your notes when your professor spoke.

"Shall we take a break?"

You shook your head, then immediately chastised yourself for being a forgetful, inconsiderate fool.

"No, sir. I'm alright. I'm on a roll right now, and I want to keep that going."

His head slightly tilted to the side, and from the new position, the dull light above and the fleeting sunset outside the window cast its dying rays over his face like a moody painting. It sharpened the angles on his face, sculpting a grimness in his features — a beautiful contrast to his softness, his kindness.

"Are you sure?"

The concern and warmth in his voice only fueled your determination to keep going. You wouldn't dare inconvenience him in the smallest way.

"Yes, I'm sure."

Turning to your notebook, you quickly picked up your train of thought and proceeded from where you had left off. Professor Murdock took that as a sign for him to go back to his papers. And you continued to work in silence.

Some time passed until a small beep sounded beside you and pulled you out of your head. Professor Murdock touched his watch and turned to you.

"Your two hours of this week are done."

You blew out a sigh. The session went by quicker than you thought and was not half as bad as expected.

"When will you be free next week?"

You flipped through your journal, disturbing some grocery and drugstore receipts until you reached the page for next week.

"Oh, shoot."

You muttered to yourself, your eyes flitting over all the reds, greens and blues filling up the week like an intense game of territory, except for one little spot after an eight-hour shift at Sugar & Spice and your check-in with him. You wanted to have the rest of the precious half of the afternoon and all night to yourself, doing nothing and maybe watching mindless content while tuning them out simultaneously. But then, the thought of the expensive and unignorable fee of retaking his class appealed to your logical side, and you grimaced, knowing that it won.

"Uhm … I have some time to spare after my office hours with you on Thursday."

You glanced at him, watching a strand of hair artfully fall on his forehead as he quickly tapped through his device.

"Is that okay?"

After a moment, he gave you a nod.

"That will do. I can give do a quick check-in, then tutor you afterwards."

"That sounds good."

You added the date to your schedule, already mentally mapping out the quickest bus route from the university to your apartment. Professor Murdock gathered his stuff, and you made no move to do the same. His hand searched for the last of his document, which sat next to your notes. You gently slid the file into his path, and he acknowledged your assistance with a small smile. When he had gathered everything, his blazer in the crook of his arm, the chair tucked neatly back to where it was, only then he realized you weren't coming. You looked at him at his lack of movement and cleared your throat.

"I'm just going to stay here a little while longer. I think I can get this part done."

His mouth opened, then closed again at the absence of an answer. He gave you an understanding nod.

"See you in class tomorrow, professor."

"I will see you. Have a good night."

You returned to your notes, tracing back to where you left off. The gentle taps of professor Murdock's cane melted into the wooden floor in soft echoes as he made his way out. Soon, it was just the rapid scratches of your pen on paper.

You were so lost in your head that you didn't pay attention to the presence of another person entering the room. When they stopped before your table and lingered within the peripheral of your vision, only then you looked up and was greeted by the unexpected sight of your Criminal Law professor.

You straightened up, surprised by his sudden appearance.

"Professor! Did you forget something?"

He shook his head, and you noticed his flustered face and the tousled hair, which looked like it was gently run through by the wispy hands of the wind.

"No! No, I didn't. I'm just here to give you this."

He held out a brown paper bag and only let go once you had a hold of it. With a peek inside the bag, you recognized the logo-patterned wax paper from the sandwich and soup shop just a little distance beyond the campus' ground. You hesitated, taken aback by the oddness of the situation.

"Is it … for me?"

He bobbed his head, confirming the obvious.

"Take a break. You've done enough for today."

Speechless and still confused, your mind scrambled for something to fill in the silence.

"Isn't food … not allowed in here?"

From the lower angle, his face tilted towards you, and the red glasses slid lower on his nose, exposing a part of his eyes. He flashed you a cheeky smile and what resembled a wink from the way his eyes crinkled at the corners.

"I won't tell anyone if you won't."

You couldn't help a cheesy smile from breaking out, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

"Uhm … thank you, professor Murdock."

He flicked his hand as if to say it wasn't anything.

"There's no need to thank me. And, please, call me Matt."

You swallowed, stammering to oblige his request.

"Thank you … Matt."

The soft chuckle was endearing and unexpected, like almost everything else that happened tonight.

"Have a good night. Don't stay out too late."

"I promise I won't."

With a final nod, he turned and walked away, leaving you to the brown bag and quietude once more. You rested your face in your hands before giving your flushed cheeks a few taps as if doing so could take away the embarrassment. You took out the wrapped sandwich and a small bottle of water. He must have heard the noise your stomach made. You exhaled deeply before placing the water on the table, taking out the sandwich and unwrapping it. You took a bite of the sandwich, feeling it warming you up from the inside even though the food itself was gradually getting cold.

You thought of professor Murdock while you ate, of his kindness and thoughtfulness for someone like you who was a stranger to him at the very core once you had stripped down all the social niceties. You couldn't remember the last time someone bought you food, much less take care of you like this. Maybe he felt pity for you, a failing student who couldn't look after herself, the logical part of you screamed. But a smaller yet just as persistent part of your heart whispered otherwise. He helped you because he cared about you. Maybe … you deserved that. Your eyes swelled, and a tear slipped down your cheek. You aggressively wiped it off, feeling foolish for crying over a little sandwich. You took a deep breath through your damp nose, trying to control your emotions by playing with the brown bag to distract yourself. When you piqued inside, a decent amount of napkins was at the bottom, and that, somehow, was the final stroke. He included napkins for you. You put the sandwich down and put the heels of your palms against your eyes, feeling a fresh wave of tears coming. You allowed yourself to cry a little more before finishing the sandwich and leaving for the night, your belly full and your heart warm.

Less than a week later, you found yourself, surprisingly, not spacing out during professor's Murdock lecture. Instead, you just felt sleepy. You shouldn't have stayed up so late the night before. You went from being unable to sleep to working on the homework to falling asleep at your desk just to wake up three hours later, groggy and late for class. You would have a closing shift at the bakery later today, only to return at 7 AM the next day, leaving you only an hour to travel to Columbia afterwards. You were exhausted already, and you didn't know how you would survive tomorrow through a full shift on top of your check-in and tutor session. You thought of injecting yourself with the crappy coffee they sell at the cafeteria that always made your stomach rumble in the most unpleasant way. But it worked. Perhaps all the stir from the coffee kept you bright-eyed and wide awake.

You rubbed at your eyes, hoping to clear the drowsiness that had started closing in at your waterlines. Bracing a hand on your chin, you stared your watery eyes at the big screen projector, willing your mind to read the words. But the room was warm, Matt's voice was soothing, and the boring slides with uniformed font served as visual comfort. If you were a little more awake, you would have been startled at the ease of thinking of your teacher by his first name. But for now, a little shut-eye wouldn't hurt, would it?

…

You jolted awake in your chair to a friendly face. So friendly that it alarmed you, making you jump in your seat. Your professor held his hands up, showing that he sensed, or felt, or rather, heard the screech of your chair.

"Are you alright?"

You cleared your eyes, blinking a few times to confirm that your teacher was crouching at your table, a look of concern in his expression. As a reflex, your hand shot up to touch your mouth, touching the moisture gathered at the corner. Even though you knew your professor couldn't see that, you still felt conscious enough to wipe the drool off with your sleeve.

"Class ended about ten minutes ago. Are you okay?"

Class ended. Class ended. It meant you had wasted your precious time you could have used to run to the subway to catch the train going to Greenwich Village, where your cursed job was. You looked at the time on your phone just to panic even more before hastily gathering all the contents on your desk.

"Thank you for … uhm … letting me know! I'm so sorry but I have to leave right now I'm so so late for work."

You were on the wind, and you couldn't stop, not even for a breather. Your notes and pen were shoved untidily in your bag as you hoisted the tote bag over your shoulder. You shot an apologetic tone towards your confused and concerned teacher.

"See you tomorrow, professor Murdock!"

Just like that, you took off from the awkward situation, leaving the consequences to be dealt with later.

You felt like you were already dead, arriving at your check-in with five minutes to spare. You sat on the bench outside professor Murdock's office with your head on your folded knees. You could still smell the sugar cookies woven into your hair, cinnamon hugged your clothes, and the sweet scent of everything else clung to your body. Your nail beds were decorated with flour, and you tried to pick them off. You had to stay late at the bakery for the time you missed. You barely slept before coming back to open the shop. And now, you anxiously waited in suspense about what was coming and another two hours of studying with your professor, who had been nothing but kind to you, and you had been nothing but a nuisance to him.

Speaking of which, the door opened slightly, and you could hear the tail end of a conversation that seemed to hang onto the more awkward end. A woman's voice, closer to where you were sitting, profusely thanked professor Murdock for his help, to which his smaller reply said he was only doing his job. The woman's voice increasingly affirmed that her breakthrough in last week's assignment was solely his doing. The conversation went back and forth and nowhere else until it finally settled on an overenthusiastic goodbye and "see you in class." The door finally opened fully, and a girl your age walked out. You recognized her being in the same classes as you, always sitting in the front row. Her cheeks were flushed as she walked away without paying attention to you. You were glad. Things didn't have to get even more awkward had she known you were eavesdropping, even though you weren't trying to.

You distanced yourself from the uncomfortable seat and announced your presence. Professor Murdock, standing at his desk, beckoned you to come in.

"How are you?"

He asked with genuine curiosity, making a part of you swell with delight. Your heart pounded in your chest, eager to swallow the attention he gave you whole, like a dying plant at the first drop of water after days of being abandoned.

"I'm… I'm fine. Just a little tired."

You lingered at the back of the chair, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

"I'm very sorry about falling asleep in your class yesterday. It was not my intention to do that."

He chuckled softly, dismissively waving a hand, almost as if he had already forgotten about it.

"Hey, it's okay. I know that my class can be boring. I should switch it up if I want my students to actually learn something."

Your face burned bright red with embarrassment. It burned so deep and hot that you missed the mild and casual sarcastic note in his tone. You lowered your head, feeling the sting of tears at the corners of your eyes.

"No, it's my fault. I'm very sorry. I will try not to do that again."

You willed your voice to stay steady and hoped it would fool your professor. The thought of every humiliating moment you had accumulated throughout the entirety of your relationship with him nagged at the back of your head, too stubborn to let go. Oblivious to the conflict being played repeatedly in your head, professor Murdock assured you it was okay and gestured for you to take a seat.

The check-in went better than you thought. He noted your improvements and gave you pointers on how you could improve. As you were left working on your assignment, the sound of the Braille keyboard, rustling papers, and gentle hums of air conditioning drew a small yawn from you. It seemed like you had been trapped in a misty, never-ending fatigue and functioned solely based on will and just enough sleep to make it by.

You were beyond exhausted, but you couldn't fall asleep again after the spectacle you made of yourself yesterday. Your eyes watered and blurred the sentences before you. None of the words followed the ruled lines. They were a scrawling mess of half-nonsense and whatever you could draw from your cluttered mind. You pressed a silent yawn into the palm of your hand before tapping your cheeks, making muted pats on your skin. When that didn't work, you reached for your travel mug of lukewarm coffee and welcomed the burned liquid on your tongue. You grimaced, wishing you had smelled it before taking a sip.

Professor Murdock cleared his throat from across the table, and you shot up straight like an arrow, nervously looking at him like a student who was caught playing hooky in the washroom. He pushed the glasses up on the bridge of his nose, shielding his eyes behind the red lenses.

"We can call it a day here."

You looked at your phone, seeing you still had another fifty minutes left. He fixed you with a gaze in your direction, his hands linked on the table, almost as if expecting you to comply. You translated it into displease, even though he hadn't explicitly expressed so.

"But we are not done yet. There's almost an hour left."

"I know. I thought you could use a break. You've done enough already."

How could he tell that you were tired? Was it because you were quieter? Was it because you didn't ask as many questions as last week? Did he think you were a nuisance, and that your presence was grating and unbearable? Didn't he want you around? Of course, who would? Not even your own family wanted to be around you. At that thought, you felt the familiar sting of rejection, reminding you of your past. You didn't want to relive it at this moment, so you focused on getting out of there as soon as possible. You closed your notebook harder than necessary and hastily gathered your stuff on his desk. You hated how you felt so helpless, so emotional so quickly at the most mundane thing. His gentle calls for your attention were ignored and brushed aside as if his words were only dust. You had gotten all of your stuff in, but before you could leave the way you did last week, his hand shot out to hold you in place, startling you. His touch was warm on your wrist, firm yet gentle.

"I hope you are not offended by what I suggested."

You dismissed him with a light scoff.

"Offended? No! You're right, I am a little tired, and I don't want to be a burden. I'm sure you have better things to do."

His hold on you tightened, not to the point of hurting. It was to accentuate what he had to say next, and he hoped the true meaning of his concern would get to your senses before the irrational part of you would.

"No, that's not what I meant. I thought we could stop here since you seem tired."

He took a brief pause, considering his next words.

"Did you come here after your job? At a bake shop or a cafe, perhaps?"

How did he know? You repeated your thought to him, and seeing your professor gradually turn pink was an odd sight. He scratched the back of his neck, drawing your attention to the flushed skin there.

"This, uhm, might sound creepy, but … I smelled baked goods on you. Cinnamon, sugar cookies, and coffee, too. I took a wild guess."

You blinked, surprised at his astute observation.

"You're … right. I work at a bakery. How can you tell?"

He tapped his nose with the other hand.

"I just … I have a sensitive nose. Works better than my eyes. My friend compares me to a dog, all the time."

You weren't sure if you could laugh. The broad smile and soft chuckle that brightened his feature told you it was okay. So you did, feeling the tension slowly retreat until it disappeared completely. You shook your head.

"That is … impressive. Wow! I work at Sugar & Spice in Greenwich."

"Oh! Frank raves about how fresh your bread is all the time."

"We use an actual flour mill to make our flour! It's huge, and it takes up so much space in the shop, but that's how we get fresh flour, so …"

You felt yourself inching deeper into a tangent, so you stopped yourself. Why did you have to ruin a perfectly fine moment with unnecessary comments? At the very least, your professor didn't seem to mind your rambling.

"I thought you could use some time to yourself. You seem tired, and I don't want to force you to work more than you already have."

His reason seemed rational now that you had stopped overthinking. His hold on your wrist made you want to open up, something you hadn't done in a long time.

"Can I tell you something?"

He nodded.

"I'm … it's … really embarrassing that I need one-on-one tutoring. I've always been a slow learner, and it seems like nothing has changed after … all these years."

You quickly added.

"And I do appreciate that you're doing this for me. This, all of this overthinking, is just … something I have to work on."

His hand gave another firm press.

"I mean this with all of my heart. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone needs help every once in a while. I want you to know there is strength in accepting that you need the help."

Your eyes widened, feeling the weight of his words seep into that part of your mind that had always craved the empathy you rarely allowed yourself. You sniffed dryly, suppressing the wave of emotion that threatened to break. A whisper of gratitude was all you could manage. Your professor nodded and let your wrist go, and the absence of his hand took you by surprise. You found yourself yearning for more of his warmth.

"Go home, and get some rest. Don't worry too much about the lesson."

You thanked him again, said your goodbye, and left without the weight on your shoulders when you first came in. That night, when you settled in bed with an audiobook on your headphones, your mind tuned it out. But it wasn't wandering anywhere like it usually would. You followed the path your mind was on, finding yourself lost in the memories of Matt and what happened that afternoon.

You wanted to do something nice for him, and what would be better than surprise cupcakes on no special occasion at all? Your heart pounded against its cage, and when you passed the decorated paper box to him, your hands touched. His fingers lingered on yours, and before you could truly revel in the sensation, it went away in a blink of an eye.

"Thank you for this. I can't bake to save my life, so a treat like this is rare."

"Maybe I can change that. I can bake for you."

You didn't think much of what you had just said, but your overthinking mind would agonize about that later. What exactly did you offer? It's not only baked goods, and he certainly doesn't need your companionship, you thought. You wanted to extend a part of yourself to him and the entirety of your affection that seemed to slowly but gradually get harder to ignore the more time you spent with him. It had grown so large that your mortal body could barely contain it.

"This is great! You didn't have to do this."

"I just wanted to say thank you for helping me."

His hands searched for the rim along the handle, tugging the box open, revealing the sweets inside.

"They smell heavenly."

His face brightened, and you felt your own warmed at his praise. He took one in his hand and offered it to you.

"No! They're all for you!"

"Come on. Don't let me enjoy these delicious cupcakes by myself."

He was playful, but his intention was nothing short of sincerity. How could you say no to a face like that?

You gave in, accepting it timidly, and waited until he had one in his hand. You peeled back the paper and took a bite. The softness enveloped your tongue in a warm embrace; the sweetness crashed on your taste bud like a gentle caress. You looked at your professor, whose brows shot up at the first bite. His soft moan of bliss was endearing, and you found yourself wanting to drink the sound in, hoping the resonance would stay and echo in your mind so it could keep your heart beating just a little faster like how it was now. It was the tiniest fragment of joy that warmed you, making you want to keep it close to your chest and cherish it to the best of your limited capability.

A smear of frosting lingered at the corner of his lips. With a casual passing thought of how adorable he looked, you reached across the desk, and the pad of your thumb swiped at the cream before you were fully aware of what you were doing. You slowly retreated your hand, feeling the mortification of your forwardness. You weren't the only one affected by the gesture. Matt was, too, judging by the way he swallowed hard, his lips parted to take a deep breath as if he had forgotten how to breathe. None of you dared to speak, not wanting the moment to end, but eventually, it must. Matt cleared his throat softly, and you braced yourself for the inevitable "that wasn't appropriate," but to your relief, he only smiled.

"Thank you. It would be embarrassing and unprofessional of me to walk around with frosting on my face."

"You're very welcome, Matthew."

You continued to eat your cupcake, bashful with the praises he lavished you with. The creamy frosting still lingered on your finger, and after a brief hesitation, you brought it to your lips before licking it off your thumb. You revelled in the exhilaration of your boldness. You felt like you crossed a line you weren't supposed to, but at this point, it was too late for you to turn around.

And when you tossed and turned later that night, when you couldn't deny yourself the truth any longer, you would come to the hopeless realization that you were in love with your professor. All that was left was to tell him as you so selfishly wanted him to know of your fondness for him, but you wouldn't dare shatter the fragile attachment to adhere to your selfish want.

The study sessions started not to feel like a torture device designed specifically for you as you found rhythm within each other. They had become the place where you enjoyed your time the most. Matt brought coffee to fuel you for later days that turned to nights. You bonded over the occasional pastries you brought in. It was an inconsequential thing, which quickly became an unspoken tradition. You found he particularly enjoyed the red velvet cupcakes smeared with buttercream frosting. Nevertheless, he loved whatever you brought in and never failed to show you how much he appreciated it.

It felt like the invisible veil between you was removed. Neither of you dared to take that first step forward into the other side out of respect and the delicacy your positions held. Still, it felt nice. You didn't have to put your guard up all the time, and you were weirdly okay with it — everything was within your comfort zone. There was little pressure to be someone else, no expectations you couldn't meet. Within the four walls that his presence occupied, the expectation to do well was there, but at your own pace. You didn't have to struggle. While things with Matt had been good, the other part of your life had started turning its head, gearing full speed toward a fatal end.

Your mother had stopped all types of communication. It'd been three weeks since her last request asking you to stop contacting her and many messages and emails from your end begging her for a talk. Your whole life had been a preparation for this, yet, when it came, you were left in shock, in the pain that never eased or went away. For as long as you could remember, familial love was something you never had, and you envied those who had it. Sometimes, the absence of love and care from someone you were close to dulled you, but the smallest acts of kindness hurt much worse in return. It cut you deeper than indifference did, grappling with your heart. The way Matt treated you with patience, tenderness and support filled the empty space in your chest with an ache that grew over time. To think that he was once a stranger, yet, he cared more about your well-being than your mother ever did. Matt showed you that despite your fatal flaws, you were still worthy of love.

The year came to an end, and you were relieved to see that you passed all of your classes. Your final office hour with Matt was on a rainy afternoon, the type of weather that made everything moody and drenched in sorrow, fitting for your state of mind. The meeting was a fruitless use of time since the semester was already over, but you wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. You didn't want to say goodbye yet.

The sky poured in fine droplets by the time you were done. You waited as professor Murdock locked the door and walked out together. Neither of you said anything as you stood at the edge of the building, listening to the rainfall. You didn't bring an umbrella. You turned to him, and farewell words left a bitter taste on your lips.

"I guess this is it. I'll … see you around campus."

The forced smile on your face dropped as you placed your bag over your head. You hastily took half a step before his hand shot out, stopping you before you could walk out of his reach.

"Do you have anything for the rain?"

"No, I don't. But my apartment is not too far from here."

"I'll walk you home."

He didn't even hesitate.

"No no no no, you don't have to."

"I insist. I can't let you walk home by yourself in this weather."

He pulled out a well-loved umbrella from his messenger bag. It seemed like he wouldn't take no for an answer. You sighed, nothing of annoyance, only a little breathless.

"Can I at least carry it, please?"

The soothing sound of the rain was secondary to the thunderous beat of your own heart. The walk home was quiet since you couldn't find it in yourself to properly engage in a conversation when all you could think of was the feeling of his left hand resting in the crook of your right arm, which was holding up the umbrella. His hold was delicate, and you relished in the way it made you feel. Matt didn't seem to mind the quiet as you walked through the busy streets, occasionally talking about nothing in particular.

Eventually, the familiar build of your apartment complex loomed close, but you didn't want this to end. So you walked past the building and continued onward aimlessly for what felt like a little while. Matt leaned his head close to yours; his voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"Your apartment is quite far away. Good thing I'm going with you, or else you would be soaking wet by now."

His casual comment made you slow to a stop, pulling him with you. A look of concern touched his slightly furrowed brows.

"Are you okay?"

You shook your head, unable to look at him. You looked down at your boot-clad feet and his worn Oxford shoes as if you could find courage on the ground you stepped on.

"No … I'm not. I'm so sorry for lying, but we walked by my place … five minutes ago."

You needed to explain yourself as the look of concern on his face deepened.

"I didn't say anything because …."

He was quiet and so still, hanging onto every single word you said.

"Because … I … I like you."

Three simple words, yet the relief of their weight was immeasurable. Now that Matt knew, you felt the rush of regret start to pour in.

"I like you. And I'm sorry I'm so selfish that I made you walk with me even though my apartment is back there. I want to make my last few minutes with you last as long as possible. I'm sorry for even saying all of this–"

Your words were cut off by the touch of his lips on yours. Matt pulled you in by the small of your back, and your heart soared on its timid wings. Your hands hovered on either side of him, unsure of their limit on the newfound territory. As if Matt could sense your hesitation, he pulled back, and all you could think of was how much you would regret it if you let him go. You tugged him back to you by the lapel of his coat with more force than you anticipated, his body crashed clumsily into yours, and you found him again with more certainty this time. His lips were soft, brushing against yours in firm strokes, affirming the reality you hadn't grasped yet. His reciprocation was real and tangible, like the touch of his fingers caressing the bare skin on your neck, holding you against him.

All of his and your emotions were poured into the kiss, albeit slightly clumsy at first, until you found your rhythm, for actions were the only thing that allowed you to express yourselves fully at this moment. Words would be saved for later, as there was only him and you and the all-consuming kiss. Your hand lowered as you dropped the umbrella to the ground so you could hold onto him. Your hand found its way to rest at the back of his head; your fingers carded through the damp, slightly curled hair. Neither of you cared about the rain or the people walking around you as you were lost in the ardent embrace, letting the intensity pull loose at the thread of your longing for each other.

You broke away first, letting out a soft gasp for air. Your eyes were wide open, taking in Matt's swollen lips as you caught your breath. He looked as dishevelled as how you felt, and the small smile on his lips only made your already frantic heart beat faster.

"I like you too—more than you could possibly know. I didn't want to say anything because I thought you wouldn't reciprocate."

Hearing those words from him gave you an immense sense of relief.

"Besides, it's hardly appropriate."

You chuckled at the irony that was your situation. You absentmindedly brushed away the droplets on Matt's face despite the rain still descending upon you.

"Was. I'm not your student anymore, remember?"

His smile broadened at your reminder. His head dipped slightly, and you could see his eyes crinkled in the corners in the most endearing way through the rims of his glasses. He leaned into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm before gently pulling you in by your jaw for another kiss. This time, it was softer, with all the sense of indulgence the two of you had. After all, you had all the time in the world for each other.

*Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!*

[myshiptrashcan]

Director's cut of ⭐At His Side⭐ plleeaaasseee

I love how flushed out this au is. Which always begs the question, is there anything you wanted to add in and didnt get the chance? Or anything that you unfortunately had to cut bc it didnt fit?

Hmmm. I did think about what the main story would be like if they were wing people. If they fell in the earth, then why not fly out? I figured the battle would keep one from flying not wanting their wings to get shot.

Like Merwin getting stuck in the wire and his wings are fucked. Keeping most of the characters grounded is causing me to really think. Like when Rachel fell why not fly? Were her wings slightly hurt causing Eric and her to use climbing gear instead. Obviously they need space for their wings to fly as well.

I did want to talk about Zain and Jason relating to each other more on how they feel about their wings and their parents . But instead I only made it a conversation they had that Salim heard as he woke up in little pieces. How Zain hates that he looks like his mother, his face and his wings and wishing with all of him to be like his father that he just adores. And if course Jason pointing out just how much alike Zain is to his father.

Sometimes it feels like they don't even have wings in this story. I honestly would have liked to draw better things for the story just to flesh everything out more. This world is built mostly the same as our own. I did mention things like proper baths and beds are something you have to pay more for. Bird baths and nests.

I actually added a few things to the story than I had intended. Like Jason being a Star trek fan. Which I have a wing au for as well lol.

I did want some kind of interaction between other strangers, them looking at Jason and Salim and perhaps causing some sort of trouble.

I did do more research than what was necessary for a fanfiction. Hours worth of studying for like a paragraph of words.

Also while Jason's military contract is probably the second shortest you can pick, he does have to go into base. Not sure if marines have drill, as my knowledge comes from my mom being in the Army national guard. But light military work is something Jason still has to do. Also also, maybe one or both of them finding a kind of job to do. Not wanting idle hands.

Wish I would have mentioned their nightmares a little more. It's the reason they're sleeping in the same bed together after all. Idk.

I didn't really want their relationship to be so focused on physical attraction but I did put some in there a little bit. Wanted to make their love feel a little deeper.

Jason has more stuff going on internally in ways of conflict and misbeliefs, while Salim's has more to do with perceived rejection of love while at the same time dealing with the trauma and shame of having his wings forceful clipped on top of the shared trauma of the temple.

Zain felt like a fun character to write for the first time, considering how little we know of him in game. I had hoped to get across how much he connected Jason with his mom. Even though he knew that Jason was not in fact his mother. Human brains are funny like that.

I do think Jason's father was interesting for me. Because while at first Jason saw only the bad, Jason's father did have many moments in his life where they actually cared and loved each other. Jason having happy memories with someone who at the same time hurt him so much is interesting to me. Idk. For as much as Jason resents his father he still loves him and still has this need for his approval, idk.

Oh and how I wanted to call Nick, Eric and Rachels new relationship the three kings even though I don't think they all can marry. Them three were all dating for sure. I did keep Rachel a bitch though in this. So she didn't really care for Salim in this story. Eric being a romantic legit thought that Jason and Salim were a thing and because he wanted them to succeed he did try his best to help Salim out too.

Jason's friends legit thought that they were a bonded pair. And although Salim didn't really lie about Habibi, Jason eventually used it as a affectionate term on his own. Which is how the word is used anyway. He felt like it was his little cheat at calling Salim darlin'. Which is funny because he was.

As it is. I always actually quite satisfied with the story and for the most part wrote everything that needed to be written. But I think that's all, at least all I can think of at the moment.

Thank you for the ask!!!

[starspann]

wouldn’t it be nice

joe cooper x reader

fem!reader, she/her pronouns are used

★☆✵☆★

warnings: cursing, violence, suggestive themes

notes: just something short bc i LOVE coop

the one where cooper wants remer’s girlfriend.

★☆✵☆★

cooper wasn’t the jealous type.

he never really considered himself to be one anyway.

in fact, throughout his life, he had prided himself on being the supportive friend, celebrating the successes and happiness of his team and friends, no matter what.

today, cooper stood alone, his gaze fixed upon the boy he grew up with, watching his fingers intertwined with his girlfriends.

he felt different when it came them, and he knew exactly why.

he envied him.

you’d figure it’s because he’s just lonely. because he and jenna didn’t work out, and the fact that he hasn’t gotten laid in months.

if you did, you’d be wrong.

the real reason behind the gnawing ache of jealousy that twisted his insides was caused by the girl currently wrapped in remer’s arms.

he wanted her more than anything.

it was hard for cooper to admit that to himself, even within the private corners of his own mind.

however, there was no denying the truth.

with each passing day, cooper made a conscious effort to suppress the green-eyed monster that threatened to poison their friendship.

that didn’t stop the thoughts of her that constantly ran through his head.

he’d imagine what’d it be like to be in remer’s position. to hold her hand, feel the tender brush of y/n’s lips against his own, the warmth of her embrace.

usually, during a game, as they watched a fellow beers teammate play from the dugout, remer would talk about y/n.

cooper didn’t want to know, yet he’d force the sentence out anyway,

“so, how are things with you and y/n?”

it’s almost like he wanted to outdo him.

remer would make subtle points about how perfect things were between him and y/n while all cooper could do was stare dejectedly, numbly nodding his head and acting like he gave a shit.

he gleefully shared with cooper all the details of her accomplishments, both big and small. he recounted stories of her selflessness and kindness that would bring a proud smile to his face.

but then he’d talk about her in bed.

what pissed coop off was the way remer would talk about it.

he paused, drawing in a deep breath before continuing on to describe some of the more intimate moments from y/n’s life that she most likely may have wanted him to keep to himself. remer seemed determined to tell it all in vivid detail.

“god, coop. she’s unbelievable, really.” he shook his head, “she purrs like a kitten.”

sometimes, this pissed him off so much, he felt like cracking his fist into the brunettes nose, hopefully breaking it and giving his uniform a dark red stain.

yet, he couldn’t help but a feel a little bit grateful for the information about y/n.

then he felt dirty.

he cringes when he remembers the time he heard them through the thin walls of their house and shamefully pleasured himself to their sounds.

cooper can recall countless nights like that. nights he spent tossing and turning, his mind plagued by fantasies he dared not indulge.

so he’d end up taking those feelings to him and remer’s shared bathroom.

it was a ritual at this point.

he’d stumble to the bathroom and hastily lock the door, fiddling with the zipper of his jeans.

one of his porno mag’s lied on the cold, bathroom tile, a well endowed model posing on the front cover.

he’d sigh and pick it up, quickly flipping through before stopping randomly.

he’d stop at some chick staring seductively back at him through the flimsy page.

“okay.. that’s kind of hot.” he thought, palming himself through the rough denim of his jeans.

he’d get off to the magazine but only while thinking of her.

his heart still ached.

walking out of the bathroom, he dragged his feet to his room.

remer is his friend. his best friend since childhood. y/n is his girlfriend. he just had to learn to respect that.

after all, cooper wasn’t the jealous type.

[queen-scribbles]

#YEEEESSSSSSS WHAT AN AMAZING GIFT 🥰💖🥰💖🥰💖#god I don't even know where to start it's all so good#tragen and marii understanding each other so well they can communicate without words or using the force YES#marii having a voice-kink and competence-kink and struggling to keep her mind out of the gutter while tragen gently threatens people YES YE#when brin actually thought he'd trapped them! 😂 alexa play 'now you fucked up' from whitest kids you know#the action! the fighting and the chase sequence! their banter! 😘🥰 YES YES YES YES#the contrast of tragen being so calm and in control as he casually wins 4v1 fights and sprints down hallways without even getting winded#vs aramarii 'force-assisted recklessness' wrinn ripping out wires and stabbing consoles and barreling around corners#him preferring to travel in her ship because his is too gloomy and scares people 😭 darling boy you would've made such a good jedi#(give her a hydrospanner and a week and she can fix it up. she's already planning a shopping trip to bed bantha and beyond with vette)#does he KNOW how sexy his voice is? that he could melt her into a puddle reading space-ikea instruction manuals?#or is he genuinely unaware of the power he wields? thank the stars he's not the type to use it for evil#okay I better stop before I write an entire tag novel 💖💖💖 I'm gonna go eat some cake and read this like. 30 more times

@haledamage I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT. :D I did some poking around in Marii's tag for details and personality stuff but didn't have time to read everything, so I'm happy to have done her justice. 💖 (cut for length)

I love couples who know each other so well it's like they read minds or share thoughts, it's so good. They would clean up at one of those game shows where you have to writ down your partner's answer to a bunch of questions. xD I cannot blame Marii for any of those kinks bc they're all very fair ones to have wrt Tragen. Competence is extremely sexy. 😂 (I might have a bit of a Thing for the M!Warrior's voice. Just a little one. That may have bled through. I mentioned it was self-indulgent, right?)

And I've long headcanoned for Tragen's own universe--and now this one apparently-- that they don't make it common knowledge he has less of a Force connection than your average Jedi/Sith. Might be perceived as weakness yada yada. And people he fights are too busy trying to survive to notice he's like 95% martial skill/5% Force use. This is just one more benefit; someone like Brin goes "How do you catch a Sith? Get him away from his lightsaber and cut the Force and he's nothing" aaaannnnnnddd they're Very Very Wrong. >:3 I love the contrast between Tragen and Marii's personalities, and their complementary roles in escaping(I had to throw in combat. It's my Brand now) were so fun to work out. The thing about Tragen's ship is another long standing headcanon, and Vette will be thrilled to help Marii redecorate. She's already complained about it being gloomy multiple times before the end of the class story. xD (Now I want to write Marii "kidnapping" Vette for a girls' day which just means giving the Celestial Dawn a makeover and Vette's practically dancing with excitement the whole way through Bed Bantha and Beyond(I'm laughing at that again jsyk) bc she's wanted to do this for a DECADE, why didn't you start dating him sooner?!?!? shush with your logic about Emperor's Wrath and Jedi Battlemaster etc

Tragen is... aware some people(Marii included) find his voice attractive. He is NOT aware of just HOW Attractive. We are very lucky he's at least partially ignorant and not the type to use it for evil even if he fully understood bc holy HELL could he conquer galaxies. That voice? His charisma and diplomatic skills? the Arms? YEAH.

[itostea]

hot things bllk boys do as your boyfriend (rin, shidou, nagi & chigiri)

warnings: suggestive in shidou’s part, reader is called pretty girl in shidou’s part

credits to whoever did this idea first! and repost bc i forgot tags oops

rin:

poking the side of his mouth with his tongue whenever you’re showing him a new outfit 🤭🤭

“So what do you think?” You beam with a grin, doing a twirl for him to get a 360 of your clothes. A half-empty bag is disregarded on the side of your shared bed. You can see your reflection on the side mirror and how the fabric fits around your waist. The dress isn’t anything special in design but its intended use is to be frame flattering–the kind of dress that you can wear on any occasion. It’s one of the few things you came to really like from your online purchase and insisted Rin see. In the end, you ended up forcing him to sit through your haul (not that he really minds).

Teal eyes flit from side-to-side and subconsciously, his tongue pokes the side of his cheek. The scrutiny, though it shouldn’t, makes you nervous. You don’t think he’s yet to understand the effect he has on you. Comically, you straighten up when he’s about to speak, making him raise a brow in question. “The dress’s a bit short.”

“But it’s cute right?!” You whine, doing another twirl for emphasis and stepping closer to him.

“It’s not bad.”

“Huh? Are you sure? I thought this was one of the better picks…” You frown, your spirits dying as you were excited to show him the dress.

“It only looks good because you’re wearing it,” he speaks frankly, leaning back to observe you again. Like before, his tongue probes at the inside of his cheek whilst studying you.

You try your best not to react and try not to squirm underneath his gaze and how effortlessly good he looks. “H-Huh? Yeah thanks…”

“Why are you acting shy now?”

“I’m not!”

shidou:

hand placement. that’s it.

“Ryu! Get off of me!” You sigh for nth time, helplessly writhing underneath him. “At least take a shower first before you hug me…”

“You complain too much baby,” he taps the side of your cheek with a boyish smile. “Can’t believe my girl can be so mean. After a day of tiring practice too.”

“Uh huh, I’m pretty sure it was only tiring since you’re always butting heads with Rin.”

He ignores your insult and instead leans up. “When were you on first name basis with that bastard?”. Little strands of hair fall over his forehead and his pink eyes glow above you. From below, you can really see the product of his hard work. His sweat still clings to him but that only draws more attention to his biceps and muscles. You see a smug smile on his face, realizing that you were caught gawking at him.

You avert your eyes with embarrassment written all over your face. “Shut up, I wasn't looking. And besides you literally call him Rinrin.”

He only bursts in laughter. “I didn’t say anything yet! Awh I didn’t think you’d get jealous!”

“Huh?! Aren’t you the jeal–!”

He interrupts you with another pat on the cheek. “Well don’t worry I won’t call him any nicknames reserved for you. Alright sweetheart? Or did you like baby more? Or was it pretty girl?” He teases leaning closely to you, pressing kisses over the crevice of your neck with a coy grin. His grin only widens when you gasp and whisper-yell his name when he bites down softly on your neck. “You wanna join me in the shower?” He breathes against your neck.

You’re not a fool to miss the hidden meaning behind that offer, well aware that the two of you weren’t just going to shower. “I gotta run some errands,” you say half-heartedly, not really convinced that you want that.

“Yeah?” He chuckles close up to your neck before he props himself with his arm bent while the other pushes your lips closer to his. Your body jolts as his hand creeps down to rest on your neck–with his thumb rubbing little circles over the fresh mark he just left. When he disconnects from your lips, a familiar gleam in his eyes draws your attention. “Still don’t wanna join me?”

“My errands–” Another kiss. A gentle squeeze to your neck as he deepens the kiss. You can’t find yourself to be mad when you feel his grin against your lips. In vain, you try to muster up a glare as you purse your lips. “Ryu–!”

Again. Only this time that hand slides down to rest at your hip. The sound of his lips against yours is enough to make you hide your face in embarrassment. And he doesn’t seem like he’d be backing down either.

“Okay fine! I’ll join you in the shower, you demon!”

“Knew you’d come around.” He pulls you up and only returns your glares with a cheeky smile.

You pout as he gathers you in his arms, not finding much in your heart to push him away. “You did all of that on purpose didn’t you.”

“So what if I did babe? It always works doesn’t it?”

nagi:

literally lifts you like it’s nothing 😭😭😭

“We gotta go pretty…C’mon, get out of bed.”

“Don’t wanna…”

Nagi finds the situation to be amusing, seeing as the roles are reversed with you being the lazy one and him trying to pry you awake. He’s not usually one to wake up early but after the release of a new game he’s been wanting to try, he wanted to get his hands on it before it sold out. Again, he tries to gently shake you awake, suddenly gaining a newfound respect for you–seeing as you dealt with similar situations involving him.

“Why can’t you just go alone?” You whine, covering your face with the blanket.

“You said you wanted to try that bakery’s pastries, didn't you?”

“Can’t you just get them for me after you finish buying the game…” You mumble.

Nagi sighs. He could. But he doesn’t want to. Call it selfish but he doesn’t want to go alone. It’d be such a hassle if the line was long and he’d be waiting by himself–without you to talk to. “Nope. Can’t do that.”

“Why not?” You complain for another time, your voice muffled by the blankets. You hear the ruffling of the blanket and how the bed flattens with his knee. Your hands come to cover your eyes from the early sun streaks peeking into the room, scowling once you see your boyfriend holding the blanket in between his hands.

He looks at you blankly. “Don’t make me carry you…”

“Huh? As if. You’re too lazy to do all that work–! Sei?!” Suddenly, you’re a few feet up, face-to-face with a fluff of white hair. Your look of shock brings a small smile to Nagi’s features and he can’t help but pinch your cheek in between his fingers, positioning you so you could fit in his arm.

“I wouldn’t really call this work. This wouldn’t even count as a workout either…” he glances at you, proceeding to carry you to the restroom so you could get ready. “Let’s get you more awake ‘kay?”

You blink. You’re awake now. Completely. Sometimes or maybe too often, you forget the extent of your boyfriend’s strength and that’s always given him an advantage in the element of surprise. Even now, you gape as he continues to handle your body in his arms as if this was just a stroll in the park.

“Hey…I can walk there myself…” You protest weakly, opting to cross your hands rather than resist.

“Nah, don’t want you running away from me. Of course if that happens, I’ll just have to carry you again.”

chigiri:

maintains eye contact with you all the time 😩😩

A hand brushes over your shoulder as you’re doing your skincare, applying the moisturizer carefully over your face with your eyes fixed on the mirror. Glancing at your boyfriend, you tilt your head. “Yes?”

“Don’t apply your moisturizer like that. Do it like this,” he motions with his fingers, only smiling when you only blink. “Here let me do it.”

With a nod, you face him, allowing him to massage the product onto your face. “Feels nice, Hyoma.”

“I bet,” he mumbles quietly, lightly chuckling as you make a noise of displeasure when he rubs a spot too hard. Rosy eyes watch you carefully as his nimble fingers continue to massage in the residue of any leftover product. You feel yourself getting a bit bashful underneath his gaze, preferring to just avert your eyes to the side while he continues to apply the cream on you. “Not gonna look at me?” He teases, collectively deciding to just finish your skincare routine for you.

His fingers reach over to grab onto your lip balm, unclasping the container and gathering a reasonable amount on his finger. With his thumb and pointer finger, he holds onto your chin and smooths the substance over your lips. You try not to tense from his hold, still stubborn in ignoring his gaze. “I am looking at you.”

“Right,” he laughs. “Anddddd there. Done.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally peeping a look to gaze at your boyfriend. He’s still smiling, only this time his eyes crinkle at the sight of you looking so meek.

“You’re pretty cute, you know that?”

Your hands cover your face as a sound escapes your throat. “Please stop, you're gonna kill me here.”

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

No Hellsing because I sadly don't know her but Nikolina + 9 for the 50 tropes thing? ✨

9. There’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling

AFDHFFHJD so… answering this nearly a full year later. I had this like 90% done in my drafts for ages and forgot to actually post it. I only remembered because I was scrolling through my inbox for any fun prompts I might do and saw the ask.

Anyway, ambiguously set at some point during R&R after the gang escape the white cathedral and meet up with Nikolai again. Let’s pretend Nikolina got separated from the rest somehow lmao

Featuring a Darkling tether cameo bc I am who I am as a person, I guess!

***

Alina didn’t mind sharing a room— it was more cost efficient, and likely safer if they had to leave in a hurry. Sharing a bed was a little more uncomfortable though.

“I think the innkeeper may have misunderstood,” Nikolai said slowly.

“It’s fine,” she grumbled, too exhausted to care very much. She sank heavily onto the one bed, unraveling the shawl around her neck that hid the collar. “It’s only one night.”

“I could try to get another room?”

She shook her head. That would just draw more attention to them, the last thing they needed was to be memorable.

They had been mostly camping out in the woods at night, trying to steer clear of populated areas as best they could. They wouldn’t have been staying at the inn at all if Sturmhond didn’t have contacts they were intending to meet in the morning. Contacts that might even help lead them to the rest of the group. Alina hoped they were safe.

Nikolai sat down beside her. “I’ll have you know, I snore horribly.”

“Wonderful.”

He gave the bed an exaggerated pat. “It doesn’t seem like a very good bed, to be honest. I don’t think it even has fleas. I could just take the floor.”

She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s no use if you’re stiff as a board in the morning. What if you have to run away because you bad mouthed someone?”

“That would be unfortunate.”

“You just stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine.” And truthfully she was too exhausted to care much about propriety at the moment. And sleeping on an actual bed was a very enticing prospect. She suspected Nikolai was probably feeling the same way.

“I can’t wait to tell Oretsev you insisted on sharing a bed.”

She turned to glare at him. “I could still change my mind. No gloating.”

He held up his hands placatingly, but his grin didn’t slip. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave that part out of the tales of our daring exploits.”

“I just hope we’ll get a chance to recount tales at all,” she replied.

And that was that for the moment. They busied themselves the rest of the evening taking the opportunity to replenish their supplies, and prepare for the travel yet ahead of them. It was a careful thing, they both had recognizable faces. And the last thing they wanted was to be caught before the rendezvous in the morning.

Alina took her turn washing while Nikolai ventured out again to get food.

She’d quickly dressed again and was brushing out her wet hair when she heard it, smooth as silk, almost a whisper. “Where are you, Alina?”

Somehow, she didn’t jump. Though she felt the Darkling’s cool gaze on her. Though her stomach twisted with sudden dread. “I think telling you defeats the point of being in hiding.”

“Why run, Alina? You know I’ll find you eventually. The longer you take the less inclined I am to show you mercy.”

“I’ve seen what you call mercy. I don’t want it,” she bit out, just as the door opened.

“Suit yourself,” he replied, calmly, and with that the apparition dispersed.

Nikolai walked in some time later, carrying a tray of food from the kitchen downstairs. Slim pickings, but that had been the case for awhile now, with the drawn out civil war. And frankly she didn’t have much of an appetite after the Darkling’s brief visit. But she forced herself to choke down what she could.

To his credit, Nikolai seemed to sense that her mood had turned since earlier, if not the reason why, and so he didn’t make many attempts at conversation. She was grateful for it.

Then there was the business of sleeping. It was less awkward than she was expecting. She told herself she was too exhausted and in her own head to care very much.

So she extinguished the lamp, and lay down on her own side of the bed, carefully turned away while Nikolai changed. It was likely testament to his own weariness that he hadn’t made any quips or half hearted attempts to flirt with her.

She listened to the rustle of clothes and then the soft footfalls as he approached. The listing of the mattress. Despite everything she was very aware of how close he was, even when carefully keeping to his own side. The already cramped room just seemed smaller in the dark.

“This is preferable to sleeping on the floor,” he admitted, finally.

“Much easier on your delicate, princely sensibilities, right?” she replied without turning around. She was almost a little afraid to.

He only laughed.

Still, it didn’t take very long for Alina to fall asleep.

She woke some time before dawn, disoriented. Not quite sure where she was or how, except that it was more comfortable than she was used to.

Her memory caught up to her about a minute later. And the realization that she was very much not on her own side of the bed. Just who she was clinging to, and whose shoulder she’d buried her face in. From the steady rise and fall of his breath, Nikolai appeared to still be asleep. Fortunate, he’d never let her live this down.

Gingerly, she tried to disentangle herself without disturbing him. With any luck, they simply wouldn’t talk about this in the morning.

Send me a ship and a prompt for a mini fic!

[ryuichirou]

Hey Ryu! \ (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/

Hope ur having a great day/night!

I rlly enjoy the head cannons and angst ships! Tho I recently read ur past VilxRook angst post and thought I'd give it a little shot for myself but with Azul x Idia and Idia x Ortho. It took a bit of courage for me to create this scenario bc it's a bit sensitive to me (not bc it happened to me or anything I just think it's horrible and dark) but this didn't leave my mind so I wanted to share it with u.

I was wondering what if Azul made Idia a victim of human trafficking? I see Azul as a person that would do anything for money. Idia is one easy resource, especially bc of their marriage now. I imagine after they got married by signing the papers, Azul at the time was probably think of how he could milk Idia from his wealth. Not completely ofc, but to the point where he is in control of it. Idia can provide for him in many ways (business wise), but Idia can also provide for him in bed. Tho what Idia does for him is enough, he probably thought "Why not kick it up a notch?~". He sumhow tricked Idia into agreeing with it since he is a master manipulator then made a business out of Idia. Idk if Idia would have enjoyed it or not but let's say he didn't to keep the dark side of this going. Ik Ortho would have noticed the bruises and forced hickeys/bites on Idia's body at sum point. Idia would just brush it off and say it's just from the others. Ortho would have brushed it off too since he knows Idia's relationships. If only Idia didn't act so off, he would have agreed. Ortho would catch on to the situation, stalking, watching, and realizing what's going on. He would probably confront Idia Abt it and force him to respond out of concern. Idia would break down and confess to what's going on, even exposing the fact that Azul made him do it. Or Ortho would probably connect the dots in his own and figure out that this was Azul's doing. What would Ortho do then? Now that he knows all of this information. What will he do with it?

Ofc the Leech brothers have a part in this. I wonder if they would think of this as a way to have fun or they genuinely feel guilty but can't do anything bc whatever Azul says goes? (Sort of funny how taller and more athletic they r compared to Azul- They could rip Azul to shreds if they wanted to but they won't for obvious reasons.)

That's all I had in mind. Hope this is sumwhat entertaining for u to read and replay to! (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

(Also I don't mind waiting for ur reply. I just care that u enjoy my ask with ur own opinions and have fun with whatever u have in mind. No need to apologize all the time. After all, for me, it's an honor to get a reply from u! Plus, waiting for u just adds to the curiosity of what u will say! It's fun for me! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡)

Have fun with this however u like! I'll wait for however long to hear ur fun thoughts. Have a great night/day! ♡

Anon! First of all, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts despite the topic being sensitive, and thank you for being patient with us. We really appreciate it!

And damn this was a fun read, it has pretty much everything that we enjoy: Idia is suffering in the worst and the sexiest and the most cruel way possible, Azul is being a powerful manipulative money-grubbing asshole, Ortho being a concerned protective little brother that would stalk Idia for Idia’s best interest (obviously!) and the Tweels are also there lol

Speaking of tweels, I agree that it is funny just how easy it would be for them to rip Azul to shreds if they wanted. That being said, I think their main motivation would still be their own fun – what Azul is doing is fucked up and unfair to Idia, but also quite amusing, so they’ll play along. Their lack of empathy is a fun asset to their characters, in my opinion!

I also think that Idia is pretty smart, but also quite self-sabotaging and prone to accepting horrible treatment, so even though he is smart enough to see through Azul’s manipulations, he could also easily go along with his plans. Maybe it was to make Azul happy, maybe it was to make himself more miserable (out of guilt for any reason), maybe the isolation did its thing. Or maybe it tickles a kink he didn’t know he had~ Whatever it is, he is definitely a victim of Azul’s wonderful ideas

To answer your question, god I wouldn’t want to be in Azul’s shoes when Ortho finds out what’s going on. I think this entire situation is enough for him to want to fry Azul with lasers until he is reduced to dust. Ortho would need his precious Idia actually begging him not to kill Azul for him to calm down just enough to stop and think for a moment.

But, unfortunately for Azul, this is a “I won’t kill him, but I’ll make him suffer” type of situation for Ortho, because there is no bigger sin than forcing Idia to do something that he doesn’t want to.

The question is, is Azul smart and cunning enough to manipulate Ortho into thinking (or manipulate Idia into making Ortho think) that Idia is actually quite happy with the situation and that he wants to stay with his husband? The chances are slim (Ortho has a lie detector in him for fuck’s sake lol), but not completely zero. If Azul plays his cards right, the situation could continue for quite some time…

[sparkymalone]

Akefidbwidb sorry I want to yap about my kuzuhina aus they're in my head a bit too much(literally I got notes for them and others) I adore them and

So hajime is a barista and fuyuhiko comes in the bar daily bc why not it gotten to the point where hajime is excited to see fuyuhiko everyday and when he isn't he gets pretty disappointed when he does they talk half of the time and fuyuhiko takes him home when he feels like it

Fuyuhiko is a phantom thief and steals stuff for "reasons" and of course the police is hajime one day when fuyuhiko was about to steal something hajime caught him but fuyuhiko seduced him cause he can do that yk and hajime keeps trying to catch fuyuhiko but fails miserably however one day fuyuhiko came to hajime and hajime was ready to catch him until fuyuhiko gave him a necklace he stole "I grown to like you y'know?" And just flees

Hajime is an artist who wants a muse since he's dad was a muse half of his life and people got inspiration from him and hajime finds a beautiful man, fuyuhiko kuzuryu, hajime attempt asking him but would fail because fuyuhiko is always busy with other people but eventually fuyuhiko agrees and man hajime can't stop staring at him because fuyuhiko is so beautiful?! And plus fuyuhiko thinks he's pretty as well

So hajime was a regular boy until he found a bottle with golden glitter and when he opened it there was a wish maker which was fuyuhiko he had 15 wishes and a few months pasted and hajime was going to have prom and fuyuhiko was his plus one,hajime realize that he was in love with him and wished to let fuyuhiko be with him forever but he can't do that sadly so...he needs to figure something else

Kanamafu situation if you don't know kanamafu is a fanon ship between kanade yoisaki and mafuyu asahina they're in the music circle "25-ji Nightcord de" from pjsk and kanade wants to save mafuyu and kanade had grief because she believed her father's condition was because of her since mafuyu is emotionless and can't feel that much and mafuyu has family issues I don't really know how to describe them tbh but I do know that kanade wants to save mafuyu with her music mafuyu is emotionless and she forces a smile kanade knows she's hurting inside but at one point mafuyu leaves(?) her mom and moves in with kanade and they're whole relationship is still progressing for now now imagine that as kuzuhina

So fuyuhiko is a misunderstood wizard by the villagers they think he's magic is "evil" but really he's doing it to make people happy but in the end he isolates himself from people hajime was dared to go to the cabern fuyuhiko lives in he sees him and hajime actually stays and see him do his magic which makes fuyuhiko happy and hajimes friends mike and Athena thought he was dead and tried saving him but he was okay of course hajime sneaks out to see fuyuhiko without no one knowing

Fuyuhiko and hajime are dolls and figurines in a shop they can talk to each other but not to the shop owner who was makoto yep sometimes kids come in the shop makoto actually has a kid who comes in to play with them time to time the kid makes the two kiss for fun

Hajime was a curse due to a punishment made by some yokai god or sum and he was to be with a yokai all his life now the yokai was of course fuyuhiko and fuyuhiko annoys him literally every day but hajime was able to tolerate him because fuyuhiko was actually nicer then he expected and they share a bed (they probably cuddle)

"can a dragon and a raven reproduce?" Ibuki asked so I got a fantasy au which is like a little series my head been producing and the school hope's peak academy is turned into Fantajī hope academy and the characters turn into mythical creatures or fantasy creatures like ibuki is a banshi kazuichi is a shark makoto is the son of a moon god and fuyuhiko is a dragon whose the son of the dragon king(natsumi is a wyvern since they're mom is a wyvern)and hajime is a raven just a common one hajime and fuyuhiko are Inlove and they already have a establish relationship however fuyuhiko disappear after summer so hajime and the gang try saving him in a city where fuyuhiko was born :)

Sorry I was yapping about my kuzuhina aus lol I really need to share it with someone

Wow, that's a lot of AUs. You have a lot of fun ideas! Don't be sorry, I love hearing other people's ideas ❤️

[saetoru]

TEE!!!! i am coming directly into your askbox to scream about the latest rb! gojo fic! aND LIKE!!! the knowledge that you had posted it literally got me outta bed this morning and i read it on my phone with one hand as i was getting ready and the fic!! it beat me up!!! cut me bit by bit until i was only a pile on the ground!! dadjo is terrible for forcing them (or at least trying) to break up!! preying on the class difference and reader's insecurity over it!! honestly, if anything he should be impressed because reader is a very smart cookie and a hard worker. iirc they were working two jobs at one point??? VERY IMPRESSIVE. dadjo can't even do one job right smh.

he was soaked to the bone. yes. good. nothing like a sopping wet man on your doorstep. LMAOOO but. augh. when reader mentioned how his dad was involved gojo got so mad that i thought he was actually going to storm off (and then come back again) but luckily he didn't.

when he was yelling and demanding to know why reader broke up with him, i kind of thought of that piece where he convinces them to stay until morning and they finally make it official— when he's demanding to know why reader won't consider a relationship and he's almost yelling and reader tells him not to yell at them… and then here, the narration mentions how he never yells and like, i don't know if that was intentional or not, but if it was… well, he's commited so much about the reader to memory that it would make sense he'd remember something like that.

and then there's this line: they’re bright and kind and deeper than the ocean. but unlike the ocean, they’re not scary to fall into, to lose yourself in no matter how far you are from shore. that one made me think of the sunglasses piece because the same comparison is made in the narration— how gojo's eyes are like the depths of the ocean, but in that fic/drabble, they're something scary. and like. it's a very cool writing thing and it makes me wanna scream LMAOOO.

ANYWAY I'M SO GLAD THEY DIDN'T STAY BROKEN UP FOR LONG AND THAT DADJO GETS HIS. reader definitely should have talked to gojo, but they can make it up to him by remaining by his side for the rest of their life hehe. dadjo should just accept reader because like, at this rate, some disowning is going to happen and the gojo family will have no heir (either satoru disowns the family or they disown him) but he'll be okay because he has his brains and reader (or the grandparents will get involved and give dadjo what he deserves!!!)

this is probably way longer than the 30 tags that stupid tumblr ate, but honestly speaking, i absolutely love the rich boy! gojo au so much. so so so so much and i'm so glad that you've been kind enough to share it with us all! (low key i want to know more about the pre-relationship times… but i want to know it ALLLLLL)

NIKU CRIES SOOOO HARD 🥹 i have to be so honest with you—i don’t even rmr the “don’t yell” part in the old fic ndkajdjd BUT the metaphors ab his eyes was revisited yes !! i think ur making me look like a more purposeful and skilled writer than i actually am fjsjfjf i wish i was that good at tying old things in. that would be the dream.

BUT HIS DAD WAS SO RUDE. it’s the way i wrote him and he still hurt my feelings 😭 he should respect reader bc they FOR REAL are hustling out here in this rough economy LMAO. but honestly reader is like. my new crush LMAO idk if i wanna be them or be w them

but gojo being a wet little soggy mess made me envision him as like. a soaked catjo hehe i love catjo he’s my fav ever i wanna buy a plushie of him but they’re like 40 dollars 😭😭😭 and i’m too cheap to spend 40 on a plushie LMAO

omg but also. i feel like writing an angry gojo was new for once u know ?? bc he’s always been soooo patient w reader and always let them doubt him and their relationship and was so precious and sweet ab reassuring them that sometimes i rly sit there and think like. damn this boy rly been thru it 😭 he was head over heels from the start and he rly had to fight his way into their life SOBS so i was like for once we’re gonna get a not perfectly sweet and patient gojo. tonight he’s gonna be an angry and emotional wreck SOBS. it was fun tho writing him that was. it was cathartic in a way.

but reader should have sooo talked to him sobsob. i think honestly that gojo wouldn’t have really been kicked from the company / inheritance bc then who would get it you know ?? i think dadjo was more trying to prey on readers innocence / insecurities and make them feel like they were powerless and had no choice but to do what he says and hope he’d get away w it EXCEPT SATORU IS ONE DETERMINED BOY LMAOOOO so he definitely underestimated his own sons stubbornness fjsmfjsj

i’m glad they got back together tho. i say that like i didn’t plan for them to from the start 💀 but to be so honest with u at one point i was kinda stuck on how i’d make them meet and talk and how the whole resolution would even happen. i think it was a bit rushed but i was tired and i was like eh. ppl will get the idea. BUT IM GLAD THEYRE TOGETHER BC I WOULD DIE IF THEY WERENT

and poor suguru 😔 my man ain’t do nothing justice for him he got that insta remove 😔 i forgot to make reader follow him back LOLLLL

BUT I ADORE U SM NIKU UR COMMENTS AND TAGS ON RB! GOJO ARE HALF OF WHY WRITING IT IS SO FUN IN THE FIRST PLACE i am so beyond grateful for u reading it and supporting it especially bc that one gojo fic u write is genuinely one of my fav gojo works ever. i admire ur writing sm it means sooooo much that someone so talented reads and interacts w my works like this 🥹 hugs u sooo tightly 🥹

[eiffelover]

Oooh the Toto reveal in A.F&N was so unexpected yet so lovely and I don't think I fully appreciate how gentle Toto's been with Lewis the whole time bc he knew from the day one (or at least day one of him seeing Lewis after the break)!! And he allowed Lewis to be comfortable sharing his designation, at least to a select few, on his own time before talking with Lewis. But he still must have been doing so much work behind the scenes to ensure that Lewis was safe and protected, like I don't think I really thought about how much he must have been looking out for Lewis behind the scenes. I love a non-traditional pack leader. Also obviously it's your story so correct me if it's something you disagree with but I like to imagine that he was just itching to comfort Lewis but didn't want to freak him out and wanted to allow him the space to navigate this at his own speed but was so happy to finally be able to talk to Lewis once the time was right. But I also like to think that he's bemused by Lewis in a very Toto Wolff kinda way. Like ofc he understands why this is difficult for Lewis and he can empathise with being an omega in such an alpha dominated sport and can sympathise with how difficult a designation change and all these new experiences must be but once he sees Lewis getting slowly more comfortable he just has some (friendly and loving) chuckles at Lewis's expense.

And wanting to look out for Valtteri (even if it got poor Lewis stuck in his head a little bit)! Again, I love a non-traditional leader in ABO dynamics. But it's so interesting to me that he was thinking about it in that way. Was there a specific Toto-centric reason for that or was it just that you needed someone to point that out to Lewis and Toto made most sense bc of his leadership role in the team and how much of Lewis and Valtteri's relationship he saw first-hand?

Omg this was initially going to be such a quick message but I keep thinking of more things I'm sorry. But I just realised that Toto basically outed Lewis to Valtteri which obviously in this context was the safest thing he could have done for Lewis but it's soooo interesting to me that even though he wants to make sure that Valtteri doesn't get his heart broken, Lewis's safety and comfort in that scene is so important that he needs Valtteri to take care of Lewis no matter what his feelings are (I mean obviously he's not forcing Valtteri to do something he's not comfortable with, he knows Valtteri won't mind looking after Lewis).

Sorry for the long ask again but one last side note, I LOVE all the oblivious George scenes we're getting lol

Toto being an omega was honestly something I didn't originally intend to include but it just felt so right??? Toto being there to support Lewis in a very non-apologetic sort of way. Because Toto isn't HIDING that he is an omega, he just doesn't behave in an 'i am an omega but doing this anyway' sort of way. Its just a "this is what I'm doing" way, like he doesn't question this is where he belongs so why would anyone else.

And Toto is so PROUD of Lewis too. Because yeah he knew at the start of the season and he's just gotten to watch Lewis so from scared and ashamed to now he's inviting Valtteri back essentially to his bed. He's more comfortable with himself every day. And I imagine Toto was one of those that assumed he would be an alpha and kinda had to struggle to adjust to the idea of being an omega, and he knows Lewis' situation isn't exactly the same but its similar enough to empathize a bit.

And in that particular moment, Toto couldn't think of anyone else that could take better care of Lewis. He knew it was only a matter of time until Valtteri figured it out anyway? Like, idk if you've gotten a chance to read 11:11, the little prequel, but Toto has always known about Val's feelings for Lewis, that he could pick up on Lewis' scent, and he knew that likely hadn't changed at all. And he didn't want to out Lewis to George because he needs George and Lewis to work together without being awkward. So it was partly Toto knowing Valtteri was the best choice in that moment and partly Toto playing matchmaker.

Also I'm glad you're liking oblivious George! The next chapter, by the way, is George's chapter!

[emduo]

my personal hexxit hardcore hcs/thoughts. Grins

-pretend i added the hx! thing in front of their names here ok im too lazy to retype it . im talking about their mc characters not them as people. whatever .you understand

-both of them started off human but became hybrids. classic mcrp design choice . phil is a chocobo (mainly has the feet, wings, tail and ear feathers etc), he is mostly flightless but can float a little and runs and jumps way faster #hardcoreparkour. schlatt is a bighorn sheep (horns, hooves, tail) though it would also be cool to me if he looked more like the questing ram! not 100% sure yet. phil’s also either a gold or yellow chocobo 2 me <- ik black chocobos exist and would fit into his typical design more but shhhh I don’t care. this also is my justification for why phil was so fond of chocobos etc

-my justification for them being part mob is like. every time they hack into the server to revive themselves they have to take some kind of energy or matter from their world/living beings around them to replace the energy/parts of themselves that they lost when they died. like absorbing their life forces or whatever. i.e. schlatt first died landing on his feet so he grows hooves in their place, phil suffocated so i like to think that maybe his lungs/stomach/other internal organs changed a bit, and when they both died together they got exploded + died of fall damage so other various chunks of their bodies got transformed/replaced.

-basically. they look very out of place at first but over time they visually become more and more like the world around them. if i had the energy to draw this whole process it would basically just show not only their clothes and bodies changing, but their color palettes/art style transforming a bit as well until they match the world’s aesthetic more.

-speaking of aesthetic God i fucking love how hexxit looks and feels. the colors especially… just very simplistic and nostalgic and dreamy, idk how else to word it. probably feels that way bc it’s an older version of minecraft. tbh i listen to music a lot to get inspired for hxhc ideas and kubbi + gorillaz + some of philza’s stream playlist + random stereotypical dnd/old fantasy game music are my biggest inspirations

-i used to also draw parts of them as glitching and slowly losing chunks of themselves to represent them deteriorating over time from prolonging their lives unnaturally, not sure how to work that into their designs anymore but i still like it

-also they do Not just suddenly stop their adventure on episode 5 idc. im playing hexxit 2 myself and there’s sooo much shit they could go explore. in my mind palace pretending they fought the twilight lich or fell into limbo (like i did… ermph). and schlatt still has that fucking mirror. and they still live in that shitty r/malelivingspace ice cave with their ghost armadillo

-they do in fact share a bed and i never forgot that detail . its so silly to me. schlatt is hogging that entire blanket and randomly elbowing and kicking phil all night and it’s so miserable

-hxhc being canon to dsmp would not make sense at all but it’s really funny to me so ive added it to my belief system. they don’t even get to meet each other in dsmp afaik so who cares, plus i can’t remember shit about the revive book but that could explain why schlatt specifically would know how to revive people from the dead… red string on corkboard i know

-in my dreams i see that place….. pink door + lawn