#but being at home is still emotionally not great

[eldritch-spouse]

I slam the door with frustration, spooking the angel patiently waiting by the door. I haphazardly throw my coat on the floor before grabbing the celestial’s hand and stomping into the living room. Forcing him to sit on the couch, I turn on the tv for noise and hastily unbutton his suit. “I need you now. Had a bad day and you will help me relieve stress.”

In different years, Belo would find this way of life to be slightly insulting.

He's a warrior after all, a power. His kind belongs outside, patrolling, securing the well-being of lessers, fighting for the honor of their Highers and holding the safety of Eden on their shoulders.

Ah, but those days are gone. Long gone. His vision glazes sometimes, wet and torpid eyes lamenting the fate of many of his brethren. They, unlike him, didn't have the fortitude to handle their own abandonment, the newfound fruitlessness of their very existence.

It's one thing to never know what the meaning of your existence is. It's another thing to have that meaning embedded in your very core and never be able to fulfill it again. Sometimes Belo envies that freedom, that ambivalence of simply existing because you can, because you were made.

Also unlike him, his kin did not have the miraculous luck to find someone like his Lady. His Lady-Worship, his beam of light in a universe ready to swallow him in its poisonous darkness. The guiding hand in a world so new and so different, so degenerate. So horrid! As amazing and radiant as you are, Belo shudders when he thinks about how you made it this far intact without a celestial by your side.

With new meaning come new duties, understandably.

As Belo still needs to learn quite a lot to understand the symbolism of this new age, he worries himself with protecting your sanctum, making it the best version of itself, and keeping it painfully, effectively warded against all threats- Especially that fiendish "neighbor" you have, what disgusting absolutely abhorrent lifeform it is! Noxious creature!

But alas, your benevolence knows no bounds. Not only have you welcomed him into your life, you refuse to let that wretched pest meet its end. Truly, you are too good for this lost planet.

Now.

Back to his current task.

The sanctum is spotless, but alas, Belo was never taught how to prepare meals for lessers. It was not the type of discipline delivered to his cast. A guardian would know this, even a principality! But not him, not a power. Unfortunate and unacceptable- He must show adaptation and flexibility unlike ever before!

Which is why that uhm... Digital movie playing contraption you have comes in so very handy.

He never thought he'd be learning to cook from lessers, but here Belo is, hoping against all odds that he doesn't ruin the eggs this time. It's not that he can't handle objects in a gentle manner, it's that he's never had to taste things. Therefore, he doesn't know how to create the correct flavor.

And Lords forbid he ever present his Lady with something foul-tasting!

The power is sure he's got it down correctly this time however. Belo has just finished putting the eggs on the plate he intends to present you with, when he stills.

An acute sense of alertness and hearing means a lifeform like him is always aware of the movement around your apartment complex. He knows when your neighbors leave and arrive, which parts of their homes they're in... This also means that he knows when you're nearby, having memorized the noise of your vehicle -Such a shame that he can't accompany you to some locations- And the jingle of your mildly irritating keychain.

The angel scrambles to put everything together, wanting to be at the door with his offering in full display, so eager to see you-

The door rips open.

Only a nick of time allows Belo to secure his painfully crafted work of mediocre culinary, lest it be swatted to the ground. Sharpened eyes spare you great concern.

His Lady exudes frustration. Although his rank is not the most emotionally attuned, Belo senses a cloud of negativity choking you, your glorious features drained and tense. He's overcome with emotion.

" My- My Lady! Whatever happened today? Did you get hurt? Who d- "

The force with which you grip his hand is surprising for a human, dragging the angel only because he always allows you to. The food lies forgotten on the nearest surface. It's by his ever subservient attitude that you can toss Belo to the couch too, his silent confusion following when you activate the bigger display box.

" I need you now. " You begin, patience depleted. " Had a long day and you will help me relieve stress. "

He squawks the same way he does whenever his Worship starts these encounters without proper warning, wings fluttering and fur fluffing in a mixture of shock and anticipation. He fears that a part of him may enjoy getting pleasurably surprised more than any self-respecting angel should.

" But... " He knows it's not a good idea to challenge you, trembling as the last of his covering is undone. " You should eat b-before I service you, my Lady, many hours have passed- "

" I'll eat when I can't feel my legs. " The snarl you give Belo sends shudders down his spine, and he bashfully, albeit inwardly happily, readjusts to spread his legs for you.

" Excuse me but that hardly sounds healthy... "

His cock pokes out a furred slit, beading and twitching to interest. Although Belo becomes uncomfortably erect the moment you recklessly undress before him. It was not, as a filthy demon would put it, a slutty display. It was raw need, irritation and and pure dominance. It was a side of his Worship he had yet to witness.

Belo refuses to ever admit it aloud, he cannot, he will not! But... But oh, the sins of the flesh. No, when provided by the superiors, they are not sins, they are gifts. They cannot be wrong. It's not wrong for Belo to enjoy your physical rewards for his work, but it is perhaps sinful of him to lust for more, to so eagerly hope that you'll allow him such pleasures when he performs certain tasks.

He does not touch his aching length because he's not allowed to. His pleasure is for you to decide upon, of course.

The angel prepares to slide down on his knees when you shove him back on the cushions by the shoulder.

Three eyes blink at you. " Am... Am I not to service you, my Goddess? "

You usually enjoy the touch of his fingers upon your most intimate zones, for training him is easy, and Belo adored the sounds of your approval. You did also curiously enjoy grinding over his face, a sensation that often left him pointlessly thrusting against nothing.

None of that today, it seems.

" Shut up. "

He was about to reply with a reflexive 'Yes, my Lady' before catching himself.

When you straddle him, the celestial only tilts his head, figure heated, but never expecting you to simply line him up with your entrance and slam yourself down.

Had he not been in the midst of breathlessly throwing his head back, Belo would have died from worry. As holy as you are, you share the stature of humanity, and Belo knows -F-From common sense, of course!- That his organ is not the same size of a human's at all.

He tries to articulate his concern, but the squeeze of your core around him is hypnotic and sickeningly euphoric. Belo can only hold onto full hips and cry his delight while you mercilessly hammer down on his cock, milking all the pleasure you can from him.

His melodious whines and resounding moans -Something he ought to control- rise in intensity as Belo loses himself and begins rutting senselessly, the tip of his dick nuzzling spots that make the two of you go stupid.

" Don't you dare cum yet! "

He wails, physically wails, body trembling so hard it almost spasms in his effort to reign his movements. " N- Never, never my Lady! I'm good, I'll relieve you- I'm good! "

And as if to confirm it, your serious complexion finally morphs into a self-satisfied grin, all lidded eyes and gentle, mocking affection.

He's the one that's not getting any relief soon.

#Belo oc #monsterfucker #monster boyfriend #terato tag #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #terat0philliac #not sfw #monster x human #monster x reader #minors dni

[juno-infernal]

okay nm i took half an adderall, put on my fluffy black bathrobe, switched the music to goth and new wave bops and now the world is full of beautiful possibility again

#m #still slightly insane. because the moisturizer is not found #and because i am facing the mortifying ordeal of being emotionally invested in a human being. #but the doom spiral is averted. false alarm. #i am going to hang up some of the MANY paintings/posters/misc art pieces i own soon & this is exciting #i have some really neat stuff #and i am trying not to be so sad #about the fact that i thought (as i collected furniture and paintings and dishes etc) #that by now i’d have a home of my own. instead of so many hopes languishing in boxes. #there’s a lot i should just get rid of tbh. it would make things easier. #but i don’t want to completely abandon my hope for a future #where for example i have a use for the silverware my great (x3) aunt left me when she died #or shelf space enough for my weird trinkets. #or my 1 million boxes of books. #it’s… not likely. but i don’t know if i can take giving up entirely yet.

[augustinewrites]

“just leave me alone!” 

megumi storms off towards his room as gojo’s easygoing expression falls away instantly, leaving you conflicted as to who you should check on first. (which is difficult to do when you remember that thirteen year old boys hate talking about their emotions almost as much as twenty-five year old ones do.)

you decide that megumi needs a few minutes to cool down, so you step into the kitchen first, where your fiancé is tearing open a new bag of candy a little more harshly than necessary. you lean your hip against the counter as he murmurs a greeting. 

“what was that about?” you ask. 

“he hates me,” he shrugs. 

“he’s a thirteen year old boy. he hates everybody,” you point out, but it fails to make him laugh like you’d intended. instead, his frown only deepens and he mutters,

“he doesn’t hate you.” 

you tilt your head slightly. “is that what this is about? me being his favourite?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs. “i…i just can’t seem to connect with him the way you’ve always been able to.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, unsure of what exactly you can say to make him feel better. it’s not like him to be so insecure. “you guys have had your moments.”

“not lately. i just keep pissing him off,” he huffs, unwrapping and popping a piece of candy into his mouth. “did i do something?” 

you open up the fridge to pull some ingredients for lunch, sighing. “i don’t think so, but nanami, shoko, and i were texting about it the other day—”

“wait, you’re in a group chat with nanami and shoko?”

“oh yeah,” you nod, setting your vegetables on the counter. “it’s mostly memes, but sometimes we talk about how messed up you are.”

he blinks at you a few times before muttering that you’d get back to that later. “what’d they say?” 

“they quoted a lot of freud, but the gist of it was that it’s normal for fathers and sons to butt heads.”

he frowns deeply at that. “so what should i do?”

“be patient. he’ll come around eventually.”

“easy for you to say,” he huffs. “you’re the only mother figure he’s ever known. he’s already had a dad.”

“satoru, he’s thirteen. he’s officially been with us longer than he was with toji.” 

you study his conflicted expression as he turns that information over in his mind. “okay, how about this? i was going to take him to the mall to buy new clothes after lunch, but why don’t you go with him instead?”

“that’s a great idea!” he exclaims, pressing his hands together excitedly. “i’ll take him to the bookstore too! can you find out what’s on his reading list?” 

“he’s not a little kid anymore,” you remind him. “you can’t just buy his affection with a new book.”

“i’ll buy him two, then.” 

“i love where your heart is at,” you start slowly. “but you just…have to give him space to let him come to you.”

he groans loudly, coming up behind you to press his forehead into the crook of your neck. you smile, tilting your head to the side and reaching up to pat his hair. 

“i guess this is good practice for when we have our own kid,” he mutters, stiffening when he feels your hand still in his hair.

“our own kid, huh? so does that mean you’re done bringing home strays?” 

“you three are all i need,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “whatever happens next…is just a bonus.” 

BONUS:

[you] [1 attachment]

[nanami] Why is he dressed like Gojo?

[shoko]: like father like son huh

[you] satoru had a quarter-life crisis yesterday. just a small one. 

[shoko] i’m not surprised. his life is like a shakespearean tragedy.

[nanami] That is accurate.

[you] he’s trying to bond with megumi.

[shoko] by dressing him like he’s emotionally unavailable?

[you] what does that even mean?

[shoko] the sunglasses

[you] ?

[nanami] Elaborate further, please.

[shoko] eyes are the windows to the soul. 

[nanami] (the more you know gif)

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #keeping up with the fushigojos

[ghostlyferrettarot]

✨️🫧📀The 12th House in the

Signs📀🫧✨️

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

📀If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!📀

🫧Masterlist🫧

🫧It is considered a house of introspection, subconscious and ending cycles. This house is associated with the sign of Pisces and is considered the most spiritual and mystical of all astrological houses🫧

📀Aries in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your own spirituality and do things your way. They may feel the need to distance themselves from the world and seek their own direction. They use much of their energy to confront their inner struggles, to which they never give up. In some cases you may be on the verge of losing the battle, but your perseverance will ensure that in the end you will be able to overcome your intimate problems.

📀Taurus in the 12th House: may indicate a need for connection with nature and the need for emotional security. They can be very intuitive and feel most comfortable in a calm and relaxed environment. They long for security. They like to have everything under control regarding their lives and that unforeseen events do not occur that alter their daily lives. Taurus natives in the 12th house are happy and self-confident and are willing to work hard so that they lack for nothing. .

📀Gemini in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your own truth and connect with the subconscious world. They can be very imaginative and creative. They relate more to their spirituality, some seek time for seclusion, introspection, and reflection. Individuals have difficulty learning rigorously, mechanically, but they still acquire knowledge by paying attention, capturing the deeper messages.

📀Cancer in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find a spiritual home and connect with your family and your past. They can be very intuitive and sensitive, and may feel the need to work through their emotional problems through therapy and meditation. Their projects are linked to the affectivity they receive in the environments they frequent, it being important that these do not clash. with his own emotionality.

📀Leo in the 12th House: may indicate a need to find your own spirituality and connect with your creative and artistic side. They can be very creative and passionate, and may feel the need to work on their self-esteem and confidence. allows you to act with great independence. Enjoy being alone, reflecting calmly. He lacks that fear of loneliness that terrifies many people. For Leo it is more of a blessing. He knows how to fill space and time without needing to turn to anyone else.

📀Virgo in the 12th House: May indicate a need to work on your own personal development and connect with your spiritual side. They can be very analytical and perfectionist. Being interested in even the smallest detail in each project or action they undertake is a typical trait of Virgo in the 12th house. However, although at first glance it can be considered something effective and advisable, the truth is which can also have its dark side. Of course, as long as it is taken to the extreme.

📀Libra in the 12th House: May indicate a need for balance and harmony in your spiritual life. They can be very intuitive and balanced. They want to have tranquility and peace in their lives, it is a period of retreat and without much social interaction. They have a sense of justice and a desire for equality that is not manifested very visibly in their environments. Furthermore, when Libra is in the 12th house, the fantasies and dreams of the natives are awakened.

📀Scorpio in the 12th House: May indicate a need to work through your emotional issues and connect with the subconscious world. They can be very intuitive and sensitive, and may feel the need to work through their emotional problems through therapy and meditation. They are strongly drawn to mysteries. Everything that is hidden before the eyes of ordinary mortals is most interesting to them. They do not hesitate to immerse themselves in the enigmas they encounter, eagerly trying to reveal what they hide.

📀 Sagittarius in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your own spirituality and connect with nature and the subconscious world. They can be very adventurous. Sagittarius natives in this house go through times when their religious beliefs are shaken. They discover that there are other points of view from which to see life in a different way. Sometimes open-mindedness will come from the recommendations of the most unexpected people. But they know that they must always be attentive to be able to listen, think about what they have learned and act later.

📀Capricorn in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your purpose in life and connect with your spiritual side. They can be very disciplined and ambitious. The conception of Spirituality of individuals in this phase can be confused with social justice, with the existence of opportunities for everyone to have a dignified life. However, they are more driven by values of the practical life, to the satisfaction of the needs of employment, home, decent conditions for the development of the family, rather than with realities transcending the material world.

📀Aquarius in the 12th House: may indicate a need to find your own spirituality and connect with the subconscious world. They can be very innovative and creative. In this positioning, people can fulfill themselves through humanitarian activities of a spiritual nature. The concepts of harmony and wisdom develop. They feel a universal responsibility that involves spirituality, compassion and humility.

📀Pisces in the 12th House: May indicate a natural connection to the subconscious world and a need to explore your own spirituality. They can be very sensitive and empathetic. They are a compassionate person, although they do not usually show it externally. You have to dive a little inside yourself to discover someone who does care about others and always tries to do as little damage as possible in their discussions. You must let yourself be carried away by your sensitivity to know the different options through which you can channel your creativity.

#astrology placements #zodiac #astro community #astrology #astro blog #astro notes #astro news #astro observations #tarot reading #tarot cards #zodiac astrology #astrology tumblr #astro content #12 house #12th house #zodiac houses #12th house astrology #signs in the houses #zodiac observations #zodiac notes #zodiac sings #natal chart analysis #paid natal chart reading #natal chart #tarot and astrology #tarot kpop #kpop astrology #tarot spread #tarot #pac readings

[luv4fushi]

omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well

tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!

this december

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.

content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry

word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)

click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!

it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.

“why me?” you groan.

gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.

“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”

“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.

satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”

you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.

“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.

satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).

satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”

your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”

“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”

“i appreciate your honesty, but—”

“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.

“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”

“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”

“gojo!” you whine.

“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”

and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).

so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.

megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.

“i think we should break up.”

and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.

now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.

“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.

you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.

“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.

the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.

what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.

if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.

megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.

you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.

“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.

it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.

you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.

“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.

“i can take the couch,” megumi says.

it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.

“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”

“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”

we’ve shared a room countless of times before.

megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.

“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.

megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”

he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.

“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.

“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”

to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.

and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.

december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.

“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”

you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”

he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.

by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.

you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.

your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.

you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?

“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.

with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”

you pale. “this sucks.”

“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.

“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.

he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”

your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”

“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.

“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.

you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?

there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.

that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.

so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?

you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”

you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.

it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.

you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.

when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.

“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.

you smile and nuzzle closer.

it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.

to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.

tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.

it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?

“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.

you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.

“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.

the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.

“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.

you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.

“don’t touch my wife.”

the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?

“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”

“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”

the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.

“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”

“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”

you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”

“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”

“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.

“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”

“i don’t want to,” you argue.

“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”

“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.

“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”

from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.

you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”

“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.

“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”

the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.

when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.

the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.

there’s nothing to do anyway.

you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.

you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.

without much thought, you buy the gift.

the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”

you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”

she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.

you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.

reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?

you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.

you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.

you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.

he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.

“is this for me?”

“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”

he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.

“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”

you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”

“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.

you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.

he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.

“thank you,” he whispers.

december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.

“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.

“huh? why not?”

“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.

“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”

“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”

your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.

“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”

“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”

“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.

you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.

“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”

why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?

your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?

you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.

“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.

he stills completely. “what?”

“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”

his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.

“i do care,” he admits sorely.

“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.

“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”

you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.

“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.

“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.

“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.

he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.

“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”

“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”

he flinches against you. “but i…”

“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”

he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.

you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.

“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”

“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?

“w-we gotta report back to—”

“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.

the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”

“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.

all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.

it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.

“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.

“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”

megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.

your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.

"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.

satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”

“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.

“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.

“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”

megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.

“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”

“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.

“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”

“watch me!”

“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk megumi #megumi fluff #not my best work tbh

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for refusing to do anything to help my roommate's baby?

More of a "was I an asshole" rather than "am I an asshole?"

I (21F) am a college student living in an apartment with two roommates, Anna (22F) and Mica (23NB). I've lived with Anna for two years now and Mica for one, and we've all always gotten along great with no major issues apart from the fact that Anna's boyfriend of several years is emotionally manipulative and incredibly insecure and jealous, but that's an issue for another time, except that I don't like him and make no secret of it. I also don't like children, never want children, and crying babies is one of the biggest overload/meltdown triggers I have because it stresses me out and also triggers some violent intrusive thoughts (I have autism and OCD, which both of my roommates know about, but never cause any significant issues and I don't act on those thoughts.) That is to say, I should not and do not want to be around children.

Anna and I live far enough apart over the summer that we only see each other during the school year, and this year I'm a junior and she's a senior. I showed up at the beginning of this school year and lo and behold, Anna is about five months pregnant. Turns out it happened toward the end of last school year, she didn't tell anyone at first, and didn't bother to mention it over the summer (which I'm pissed about). I was NOT expecting one of my closest college friends to be about to have a baby, let alone one that I'm living with.

For the next few months, I helped her out, drove her to doctor appointments, etc, because of course the shitbag boyfriend lives like three hours away (where Anna lives when she's not at college) and refuses to drive over to help her out himself. However, I made it clear that I wanted nothing to do with the baby once it's born. I wouldn't be helping her with diapers, wouldn't babysit, don't want her to put formula bottles on my shelf in the fridge, won't play with the baby or anything. I don't have the patience for that, I don't want the baby in my shit, I work 20 hours a week on top of my classes and homework and do not have time or desire to deal with a tiny human.

Fast forward to when the baby is born, Anna keeps saying she's looking for somewhere else to move, wants to move back full time to live with her shitbag boyfriend, have him help with the baby. Our other roommate Mica helps occasionally with the baby and is willing to do basic stuff and occasionally rocks him to sleep when they're sitting on the couch and stuff, but I refuse. Several months later Anna still hasn't moved out and has barely made the effort she says she will, she talks about the boyfriend a lot but I have literally NEVER seen him in person since the baby was born (he was there for the birth and that's it, drove her to our apartment afterwards since I didn't want to be there, then left again).

If there's ever a time when I'd be the only one home at the apartment and Anna asks me to babysit for a little while, I change plans and always leave so I'm not there even if it just means doing homework at the campus library instead of my room. Anna is exhausted and literally does nothing around the house anymore, never comes grocery shopping with Mica and I because she refuses to leave the baby home alone but doesn't want to take him to the store, I'm doing all of her dishes cause apparently she can't do that either, she asks us to do her laundry and cook dinner and everything for her now and I feel like we're being treated/put into the role of the baby's father.

I cannot stand children, I don't think Anna has any excuse for trying to make us care for her child, she seems to expect us to take care of him while she's in class and she can barely even afford her own share of rent and groceries and stuff let alone a baby (or hiring childcare), and I made it clear even before the baby was born that I wanted nothing to do with him and will not engage with him or do anything for him, and I think my "it's your fault you had a baby, sucks for you, now deal with the consequences" attitude is what might make me an asshole here but I'm so exhausted and my mental energy is always drained from the damn kid screaming and crying and making a mess of the house.

Mica talked to me privately recently and mentioned that they understand that I don't like children and that they're also upset with the fact that Anna can't take care of a child herself when she's a full time college student without a job and a shitty boyfriend who's barely in the picture, but they want me to try to engage more and have a bit of sympathy for Anna and not leave her completely stranded with an infant. I don't want children, I don't want to live with one, and don't want to have to care for one.

It's now April as of writing this and I have since moved out of the apartment (Anna and Mica still live together), I left in January at the start of spring semester when on-campus dorm housing was available and live with another friend whose roommate transferred the prior semester. I still see Anna around campus but I feel like the baby completely ruined our friendship but I still hang out with Mica a lot and occasionally get updates that way. I'm much happier, my mental health is better, and I'm not living constantly stressed and on edge because of the baby, and Anna still hasn't moved in with her boyfriend despite saying she's trying to for months now.

Was I an asshole for refusing to support my roommate and her baby, and essentially giving the ultimatum of "either the baby goes or I do?"

#aita #am i the asshole #eyestrain

[planetwaynez]

bad ideia right?

Jason x Roy x Fem!Reader

Notes: I've been cooking this JayRoy x Fem!Reader for some time now, the only thing is... I got excited and ended up writing waaaay too much so this will be separeted in two parts. This is part one, if you guys like it lemme know if you want part two, pls!!!

WARNINGS: Talks about stalking, nearly death experince, violence, murderer, being socialy secluded, a lot of complicated feelings. This is part 1!

Words: 4,7k

Synopsis: It never crossed Roy's mind that his cute civilian ex would be knocking at his apartmant door asking for help. Jason never tought that he would've to help his boyfriend with his ex, but he is, especially because she might die if they don't help her out.

Things are not so great at the moment. And she knows it, that's why she stands in front of her ex boyfriend's apartment door, picking at her nails and looking everywhere but the door. She knows she shouldn't be looking for him, but in the situation that she finds herself, Roy may be the only person that can help her out. Rationality, she knows it's no biggie, showing up and asking for her ex boyfriend, who is a very known vigilante, to save her skin. However, emotionally, she knows it's fucked up. 

Taking a deep breath, she knows it's a bad idea, but she reaches for the door and knocks. Taking a step back, y/n can feel her muscles starting to shake in a nervous fit.

It's been two years since she saw Roy for the last time, and she wonders how much has changed since then. 

The door is open and y/n looks up, to find a tall brunette looking at her with an arched eyebrow. She smiles, trying to be polite. He doesn't smile back.

“Hi! Is this Roy Harper's apartment?” She asks, still picking at her nails and the man in front of her notices.

“Yes” he answers, his voice deep and intimidating and for the first time she knows for a fact that this is more than a bad idea, it's a terrible one. But then again, it's better than dying. 

“Is he home?” The man crosses his big arms over his chest, taking in a more intimidating stance than before.

“Yes” 

He is not the most polite ever, and it's starting to make y/n panic turn into frustration very quickly. 

“Can I talk to him?” the man clicks his tongue, obviously not liking her request. Well, what can she do, a girl needs to try her shot.

“Who is at the door, love?” a familiar voice asks and now she understands. The huge guy in front of her is acting up in a jealous fit. Does he know who she is? Probably. 

“Your ex” he says, and yeah, he knows who she is. 

They can hear steps coming in the direction of the door and a very confused Roy shows up, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants and his hair is longer, long enough to be put up in a man bun. Cute.

“Y/n?” He is pale and it seems like he just saw a ghost in front of him. She smiles and gives a tiny wave, not knowing how to act. When she decided to ask Roy for help, she knew that there was the chance for this to happen. A chance to find out about his new partner, a chance that he would look terrified, a chance that he would say no and let her die. Simple stuff.

“Hi, Roy” things are awkward, the three of them looking at each other like idiots.

“What are you doing here?” Roy seems offended that she ever had the guts to show up like this and honestly, she understands him and would deal with this situation in a more aggressive way if it was her in his place. 

“I need your help” she can feel her cheeks burning and her heart rate increase, she feels the sting of a broken nail and her palms are sweating. 

“With what?” Who asks the question is the brunette man, and y/n finally looks at him. He is wearing the same attire as Roy, paired up with a long sleeve black compression shirt, and she realizes how big he actually is. If he wanted to, he could throw her through the stairs of the building with ease. He is scary. 

Instead of actually answering the brunette, she started rambling all of her thoughts to them, feeling her chest tight. 

“I know you told me not to go, I know you said my brain would put me in danger one day and that my smart mouth would kill me and honestly I never believed you, but I fucked up. I fucked up real bad, Roy.” Desperation seeps through her voice, making her look ridiculous but the amount of panic in the woman in front of Roy only sparks his worry. 

“What the fuck did you do?” He asks, taking her wrist and pulling her inside the apartment, practically throwing her in their living room.

“I stumbled across files I should have not stumbled across.” Roy Harper is not a man to worry, unless it's his daughter, Jason or Dinah. Or Y/n.

She was always one to worry about. Always too smart for her own good, always too clever to her own safety, always too curious. She found out way too easily his identity as Arsenal when they were dating. He knew that one day she would have a price over her head.

“What does that mean, y/n?” He is basically yelling at her now, frustrated that she doesn't give him the information he needs. She pouts, hating the fact that Roy is yelling at her.

“It means you were right, ok? I am too curious for my own good and now some rich people want me dead.” 

Fuck it.

Jason didn't see this one coming, not even a thousand miles away. When he woke up this morning, sore from their last mission, he wouldn't have guessed that Roy's most recent ex and only civilian ex, would show up at their doorstep asking for Roy to save her skin from rich people. 

Jason sighs, drawing the attention to him. He closes his eyes, hoping this is some weird dream, but when he opens them again, two pairs of eyes are staring at him. He thanks the gods that Lian is with Alfred. 

“And how could Roy help you?” Jason asks, wondering what is going through this stranger woman's head. 

“As Arsenal, obviously” she says, as if Jason is one dumb fucker, and he can't believe that this is happening. 

“She knows?” Roy shrugs, as if saying ‘I have no control over that’. 

“She found out when we were three months into the relationship” Jason looks at her again, shocked with this new piece of information. He knew they dated for over a year, and also knew how heartbroken Roy was when she left to live in Ireland because of a job opportunity. He didn't know she knew about Arsenal, though. 

“It was actually quite easy to figure it out” she says, her eyes roaming over him, not in a ‘I am attracted to you’ way but in ‘who are you?’ type of way, and that made an uneasy feeling set in Jason's stomach.

“How?” He needs to know how she found out, how her brain works. Jason knows a lot of people, for fucks sake, he knows Tim and Tim found out Robin's identity at the age of nine, not many things shook him, but it's eight in the morning and this woman is definitely weird. 

“I noticed they have the same scar on the left arm” 

Jason's eyes bulge just a little and he looks at his boyfriend, who is looking at the floor, probably embarrassed with how easily a civilian found out his identity. 

“I know” the read head says, clicking his tongue “she is a freak with that brain of hers” 

It's y/n's turn to sigh, rolling her eyes. She looks at Jason again and says, very calmly.

“I knew I could say Roy is Arsenal near you because I firmly believe you already knew. Not because he told you, but because you are like him” the nervous and anxious girl from before is gone and she looks more confident and comfortable, and that uneasy feeling of having someone with a bigger brain than yours in the room comes back to Jason's stomach. 

“And why's that?” Roy chuckles, and Jason looks at him with a quizzical look but the redhead says nothing, just smiles.

“You keep analyzing me, noticing every single move I make. For a guy your size you are very quiet and silent” she point out, numbering everything she says in her manicured fingers “Also, you keep reaching for your thigh, as if you keep looking for a gun in a holster” Y/n points to his hand, resting in his left thigh, and he wants to curse himself. 

“I will make an educated guess and say you are Red Hood, the guy that is always with Arsenal” She says and smiles, tilting her head to the side, exposing her neck that has a hand imprint on it. “You are him, aren't you?” 

Jason nods, not verbally answering her, but he knows there is no use lying since she knows about Roy's identity. What actually sparks his interest is the marks in her neck. She notices him looking and she once again hides her skin from them. Jason looks at Roy, to see if he saw the same as him, and his boyfriend's gaze is focused on y/n neck as well. There is more to this story than she is truly telling, and they know.

“She found out about Dinah in forty minutes in the same room as her.” Roy says, instead of saying something about the purple marks, walking to the kitchen to get a water bottle for himself. 

Jason looks at her, doing exactly what she said he was doing before, but now he takes his time. Analyzing her. Meanwhile, she keeps an eye on Roy, who is not caring at all about the exchange behind him.

Roy turns around, holding his water bottle and looks at the two of them. He drinks all the water with a few gulps, feeling the cold water calm him down to the conversation he will soon have. He really wants to know who is the fucker that tried to choke her to death and left those marks on her smooth skin.

“Come with me” he says, pointing at a very shocked Jason and a very smug y/n to follow him. 

The three of them get in a room decorated to be a study, Roy sits on a couch in the corner of the room and Jason sits next to him, his big arm going around Roy's shoulders.

“Explain yourself, pookie” Roy says and y/n takes a deep breath, collecting her thoughts to start explaining herself to the two vigilantes in front of her.

“It all started a few months ago when Campbell Enterprises, the place I worked at, developed a new project. One that was secretive and only a few would participate, the HR did a whole campaign to encourage us to participate in the selective process to choose the ones that would be a part of this new project. I was hoping I was not chosen, honestly, I was fine with the workload I already had at my lab at the time, but it was mandatory to participate” she pauses, taking a deep breath and looking at the window, watching the sun come through. 

“They chose me and a few others to be a part of it, but it was all too secretive, even for us that were working on it. It was tiring, since my regular workload kept coming” she clicks her tongue and blinks, as if she was transported back to the moment that she is telling them about. “One night I stayed later than usual, it was just me in the laboratory, I was tired and annoyed with a few things so I started digging around, just so see if I could see the development of the others that I worked with.”

She blinks again, swallowing tears and looks at them. Roy and Jason are looking at her very attentively, waiting patiently for her to continue. There is no pressure, no tension in the room, just two men looking at her as if she was made of glass and that, for some reason, soothed the pain inside. Y/N is too used to not allowing herself to be fragile, but right now, with Jason and Roy, she feels that she can allow herself to be a little bit vulnerable. 

“That's how I ended up coming across the real motivation of the project. They told us that we were developing a new medicine for kids with cancer, when in fact, we were developing a new drug so they could kidnap children and teenagers with more ease.” There is silence in the room and inevitably, they all thought about Lian, that is safely with Alfred, but she could not be, like many others are not. 

“And they found out you came across those files and that's how you got five fingers in your neck?” Roy asks, arms crossed and a frown between his eyebrows, looking irritated. 

“Not exactly” she says, her right hand going instinctively to her neck, gulping just to remember the touch of that man on her skin. “They found out I knew, but they didn't make it obvious. I knew they would find out eventually and come after me, but until then I thought I could keep living my life.”

Silence reigns the room, the three of them knowing she was just living an illusion until reality came knocking on her door.

“I went out on a date” she says, and that sparks even more their interest. Jason scoffs, not believing what he just heard.

“You knew you had a target on your back and you went on a date?” He asks sarcasm in every word that he says. She nods and Roy looks at her with disbelief in his green eyes.

“I was needy” she simply states, shrugging as if it was not a big of a deal, except it was. “He was a hitman” 

Jason and Roy look at each other, not knowing how to actually react to her words. It all seems so out of this world, especially with the way she tells things, so calmly.

“We were kissing, he grabbed my neck and said that I was too curious, he had a good grip but I had a pocket knife” she is smiling and Jason knows for a fact now that she is crazy.

“So you stabbed him” Roy says, a smirk forming in the corner of his red lips. She nods.

“Didn't kill though, just enough to run away” she looks again at the window and takes a deep breath, “that's how I ended up in an airplane to Gotham. I called Dinah and asked where you lived, she told me you moved to Gotham, gave me your address and that's how I ended up here.”

She looks at them again and they can see in her eyes that she is lost. Desperate. In panic and disbelief of herself. What Jason can't see but Roy can is that Y/n truly believes she is going to die if they don't help her out.

Roy is not happy to have his ex, who broke his heart even if their break up was mutual and mature, standing in front of him. Roy is not happy that Dinah just gave information on him so easily. But he is less happy with the idea of y/n dying. No, he gets angry just with the idea of her not existing anymore. 

And Jason may not know y/n, but he knows his boyfriend. He knows Roy just as well he knows himself and Jason can see it in the redhead's eyes that they will help her out, even if it fails, they will try their best. Jason can also see the care and admiration in Roy's eyes every time he looks at her, it's the same way Roy looks at him. 

Jason will have to swallow his pride and jealousy, because he is going to help his boyfriend's ex to not die.

“We will help you” Roy says, looking at Jason for support and he finds everything he needs in his lover's eyes.

“But with a few conditions” Jason says, now looking at the younger woman. He knows she is younger than them, but now she truly looks like it. The sun is bathing her from her side, making her eyes shine and seem bigger, her lips are painted a glossy red and her cheekbones are chubby and pink. He can't deny, she is adorable and pretty.

“Anything” she says, her lips quivering just slightly. Jason smirks, he knows he is an asshole, but he also gets the job done.

“You will be staying at one of your monitored safe houses, and you won't leave the house, unless one of us is with you.” Roy nods, his gaze focused on her. The redhead forgot how beautiful she looks with her hair down and a turtleneck and he can't stop staring at her now that he noticed. 

“We will make the groceries for you, just give a list. Also only burner phones and not social media” Roy says, and y/n was expecting nothing less than that. She is asking for them to keep her alive and she knows they will do it, even if it means keeping her away from society for a while. 

“And we need all the information that you have” Jason finishes, reclining himself against the couch, relaxing his muscles. 

Y/n stares. She was always curious and when she thinks something - or someone - is pretty, she stares. She didn't look at Jason until she did, and now that she sees what Roy sees, she can't stop looking. 

They are both attractive men, she can't decide which she will take a look at longer, her brain working faster than normal to keep up with everything that she is thinking, from the information that they need to Jason's muscles and Roy's pretty lips.

She knows it's going to be a long ride with those two around her.

4 MONTHS LATER

It  was comfortable to stay hidden from society while Roy and Jason were dealing with the issue she put herself in. It is comfortable to stay in and watch movies, read books and cook whatever she feels like cooking. It is comfortable not having to go out to do her own grocery shopping, since Jason did that for her in the last four months, and he never forgot anything from the list. It is comfortable to have them around all the time, it is comfortable to have Lian over on the weekends to play with dolls and paint ceramics with her.

However she knows it's not going to last any longer. Actually, all this comfortable scenario is over as she stares at Roy and listens to him talk.

“It’s all over, we fixed everything up, you can go back to living your life, pookie” he says, his green eyes shining with something she can’t quite comprehend, but she knows the feeling that is attached to her chest. He is sitting in a chair in front of her, only a table stopping Y/N to reach out and hug him until her heart stops growing with pain.

She got comfortable, she created an illusion for herself once again. They were there almost everyday, talking, making jokes and eating homemade food made by her, she even got to befriend Jason in the first month, just to develop feelings for him in the third. In the second month she already knew she still loved Roy with her whole soul, and seeing him so dedicated to see her safe again only intensified that. 

She can’t explain, really, how she feels. She just knows its different but she loves them both. Roy is like a ray of sunshine that comes through the window, always warm and welcoming, always making her feel important and cared about. He was always good at making her feel like she is the only girl in the world, like she is actually important and easy to love. It's hard to let those feelings for him go, since she can’t get enough of his smile, his green eyes and his stupid jokes. She thinks that deep down, she never stopped loving him. It was like coming home from a long trip, the feeling of having Roy around again was that. His hugs became frequent again and she thinks she can’t let him go, the warmth and the intimacy are just too good and keeps her sane in the difficult days. 

Jason was a surprise. Y/N never thought it was possible to love two people at the same time and in the same intensity, but so differently from each other. At first, she thought she was going crazy with guilt because she still loves Roy, and Jason is his boyfriend. But then, slowly, she realized she fell for him just as hard as she had fallen for Roy. Jason is attentive, caring and even though he is more introverted, he understands her on a deep level. He knows when she is upset before she even acknowledges herself, he always has a good book recommendation and he always helped her in the kitchen when he could.  Lian loves him and he is good with kids just as much as Roy is. He is calm and collected and somehow, he soothes her mind. 

She loves them.

But she is sure they don’t love her back.

“Really?” she questions it, not believing that she can once again live in society without risking herself. 

“Yes” Jason says, he is behind Roy, his arms crossed and he doesn't look at her for longer than what's enough.

“Everything is clean, then?” She questions it once again, fear creeping inside her head, telling that they couldn’t do anything and that she will die if she leaves their embrace.

“Yes, pookie, everything is clean” Y/N nods, pressing her lips together and looking away from them, not knowing how to actually feel. She is happy that she is once again safe, that she can walk around without risking being murdered, that she can talk longer to her parents. But she can feel that pain in her chest, the one telling her this is the last time she will ever talk to them, see them and feel their presence. She is free to go anywhere, but the only place that she wants is not available for her. 

While she sits in sorrow, she doesn’t realize that both men are devastated as well as she is. Roy knew it was possible to love two people at the same time, to want to be romantically with two people at the same time, but it never crossed his mind that he would be living this feeling so intensely. He loves Jason with his soul, he would die for his boyfriend and kill just anyone Jason asked him to kill. But he can’t deny that he also loves Y/N, she is everything he could possibly want and not deserving to have. Her smile, her scent, her eyes, her lips, her body, her hair, everything in her was an invitation to his heart. Roy loves her with his heart, he would do anything for her too, he just did. He killed for her last night just to be sure she would be fine. He doesn’t want to let go, but if that's what she wants, he will do it. 

Jason was always skeptical about feelings until he fell for Roy, and he fell hard. He loves Roy more than he could ever be possible, he would take Roy in his worst days just as much as he would take Roy in his good days, and he would go against the world to see his boyfriend happy and calm. Jason stopped drug dealing because he thought it was disrespectful with Roy since he is clean and healthy after a long period of darkness. He takes care of all the things Roy doesn’t want to and he is nice to people that once hurt him because he wants to be good for his boyfriend and to Lian. It never occurred to him that he could possibly fall for Y/N during this time working for her safety. But he did.  And it was embarrassing. He could not look at her longer than a few minutes or his mind would drift to scenarios they would never live, and then he would feel guilt eating him up. Jason was going crazy over his feelings for this woman, she was diabolical with the way she made him feel. The way she would make him blush with a brush of fingers while cooking, the way she would make his chest warm with happiness when she smiled at him and the way she would make him feel euphoric when she complimented something about him. She was diabolical, and that's why in the last month he told Roy about his feelings.

Jason remembers how long the talk was, and he was not shocked to know that Roy still loves her and he truly understands the readhad, it's easy to love Y/N. Her ramblings about things she likes, the way she walks on the tip of her toes when happy, the way her hair falls over her eyes when she is focused. Jason feels like he is not some monster around her, she makes him feel light and makes him forget about all the vigilante stuff, he feels normal around her and good, he feels good. She makes it seem it's easy to be around him. 

They agreed to let her go if it was truly what she wanted, but if she decided to stay, they already talked about asking her out on a date, with both of them. If she didn’t want them both, they agreed that they would move on. It was the three of them together or nothing.

“What are you going to do now?” Roy asks, voice hoarse trying to keep the tears away. The young woman shrugs, her gaze on the wall next to her, deep in thoughts Roy couldn’t imagine what is about.

“A penny for your thoughts, sweets” Jason says, once again looking at her, he can feel the dread polling at his stomach and he just wants to hold her until she gets tired of him and Roy. 

“Thinking about my mom and my dad” she says, finally looking at them with tears stuck in her bottom lashes, making her look like a crying angel in the dim light of the kitchen. 

“Are you going to stay with them until you find another job?” the redhead questions, his fingers tapping lightly at the table, a clear sign of anxiety. 

“Yeah, I think I will,” she says softly, her shoulders drooping and her head falling, somehow hiding her face from the vigilantes in front of her. 

“Nice” Jason says, his voice thick with something not even him can say what it is, but he knows it’s not a good feeling. He feels like he is losing her without trying to actually have her in the first place. “They must miss you”

“They do,” she answers Jason quickly, trying to stop the conversation in its tracks, but it looks like he won’t bite the bullet.

“Where do they live, again?” the brunette asks, not wanting to stop because if they stop talking he won’t be listening to her voice. 

“New York City” 

Jason clicks his tongue not knowing what to say anymore so he looks at Roy, expecting to see the redhead formulating a plan to keep her around longer, but there is only acceptance in this eyes and Jason knows he lost the battle, he knows she would be leaving soon to NYC and if he tries to stop her, Roy wouldn’t help. Not because he doesn’t love her, but because he isn’t the type to hold people where they don’t want to be. 

Roy gets up and smiles fondly at Y/N, hiding his true feelings behind a mask. “If you need anything, just call us.”

She smiles, a tiny one, and nods again understanding that she is not wanted around when in fact what they wanted more is for her to stay with them.

“See you around, boys” she says, leaving for the bedroom that will no longer be hers in the morning.

#dc #dc imagines #dc comics #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood smut #red hood x reader #roy harper #roy harper x you #roy harper x fem! reader #roy harper smut #arsenal smut #arsenal x reader #arsenal #jay x roy x reader #jayroy x reader #jayroy #jayroy smut #jayroy x fem!reader #fem!reader #latina!reader #planetwaynezwrites #venus writes #planetwaynez

[mraquamoon]

🪴🌙ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS - cardinal moon sign edition

♈️🌶️ARIES MOON: this is a very emotionally expressive moon sign. Aries moons emotions come to them so quickly and it can be manifested as a burst of anger or frustration that ends up winding down shortly after. Aries moons really benefit from working out or doing some type of physical activity when going through an emotional crisis. Aries moons want to be left alone to process their emotions. They will most likely reject any type of help or assistance when they are bothered initially. The best thing to do to deal with this is to give them space and let them process. Aries moons get along with other fire moons best as well as Gemini and Aquarius moons. They are very independent thinkers. Their mother influenced their drive and ambition in life in a positive or negative way. Their experiences with their mother shaped their outlook to be independent.

♑️👔CAPRICORN MOON: this moon sign is not super emotional on the surface at all. They will use dry humor more often than not and that can hint at some emotions they are feeling internally. They are very hard to open up with how they truly feel even with people that are super close to them. They might have had a hard time growing up such as parent being away from home a lot so they had to step up and take responsibility for things in the household. They could have lost a parent or a parent could be physically around but not emotionally. Capricorn moons benefit from having people around who give them the space to process their emotions and give them a positive perspective on life compared to how things make seem to them sometimes. Capricorn moons will be more inclined to open up to you if they began to respect you in some way. They appreciate people who understand the value of hard work and determination like themselves. Capricorn moons are very good to be with in relationships as well as they will take responsibility on ensuring the relationship has a well thought out future and things that you wouldn’t normally been keen on taken care of. They will plan dates, they will spoil you, they will give you money to take care of you in some cases especially when they really are loyal to you and understand your value. They do not invest in things that does not seem worth it long term. Capricorn moons get along generally with earth moons scorpio and Aquarius moons.

♎️💕LIBRA MOON: this is the social moon sign. Libra moons love relationships and beauty of all types. They are very much the types to romanticize their lives. Libra moons are happiest when all relationships in their lives are balanced and especially when they have a partner to share their life and ideas with. Libra moons are very aware of their appearance and makes sure to invest a lot of their mental energy into their self care routines. They love shopping to ease their emotions. Libra moons also love talking about relationships of all types with others. They are great with relationship advice for all types and they genuinely love hearing and comparing perspectives. Libra moons struggle with being truthful emotionally sometimes just because they want to keep the peace. They do care about upsetting people still like the typical Libra archetype so they may tip toe around what they truly feel emotionally or become indecisive. This is not always a terrible thing because it helps them make the right decision. They prefer doing activities with others such as going to the store or grabbing food together. This makes them feel at ease emotionally. Libra moons are very sensitive to energy so they are always able to sense the shifts that goes on in a room. They become very uncomfortable around discord of any kind. Libra moons get along best with other air moons Sagittarius and Leo moons.

#libra #libra moon #capricorn #capricorn moon #aries #aries moon #astrology observations #cardinal signs #astrology #moon signs

[dirtyvulture]

Ceremony

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader

18+ only read at your own risk

Summary: You get some (very nice) awards for your actions during Operation: Avalanche.

Word count: 1834

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

This is Part 4 of my Sergeant Beef AU, following the events of this fic.

“Why is all of this necessary?” you whine, pulling at your stiff collar. Natasha slaps your hand down as she fixes the medals and ribbons on your chest. 

“This is what you get for almost getting yourself killed,” she replies, although there is no malice in her tone. “Don’t worry. We can go back to my place afterwards and–”

“Finally,” you interrupt with a grin. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she chastises again, although you know she’s just as excited as you are to be back on your home turf for the first time in months. 

“How do I look? Would I pass your inspection this time?” you ask as she backs away from you, surveying you up and down. You’re leaning on one crutch still, but you’re glad that you don’t have to use a wheelchair anymore. 

“You look fantastic,” Natasha says, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

She walks at your pace as you hobble out of the parking lot, joining the large group of people gathered on the lawn of the park. Most of them you hadn’t seen since before your deployment, which at this point feels years ago. Your entire team is here too, all of them crowding around you for hugs and handshakes. There’s too many things to be said but no privacy to say them in, so you promise that you’ll give them your time once you return to the base. Men and women with more medals and ribbons than you can count come over to thank you and wish you well. It feels odd being the center of attention and you’re not really sure you like it.

Peter Parker brought along his Aunt May and she gives you a hug that almost lifts you off the ground. She cries into your shoulder while thanking you for not leaving her nephew behind and you unexpectedly get a little choked up yourself. 

There’s also a camera crew from the local news station that asks you to sit down for a brief interview. You see Natasha watching you from behind the camera, a mixture of pride and worry on her face for you. She knows this event is emotionally and mentally draining for you, but she can’t be happier to be here celebrating your achievements with you. 

After the interview, you sit with her in the front row, you on the aisle side because you need space for your crutch. General Fury goes up to the stage and gives the opening speech. 

You zone out, hearing your name said a few times, but you don’t really care. Natasha nudges your knee with hers and you look up at her. She smiles bracingly which you return half-heartedly.  

“I would now like to welcome Sergeant Y/N to the stage,” Fury says, as everyone erupts into applause. You grab your crutch and Natasha stands with you. Slowly, you limp to the steps of the stage, Natasha hovering behind you carefully. You hop up each step, your face hot as you feel all eyes on you and you pray that you don’t accidentally trip in front of them. “Sergeant Y/N,” Fury says as you approach him. He is mindful to offer you his left hand so you can leave your right one holding onto your crutch. 

“It is with great honor that I present to you today the Purple Heart Award and the Distinguished Service Cross, for your bravery and actions during Operation: Avalanche. You did not hesitate to put yourself in certain danger to ensure your team’s safety, and because of your sacrifice, all six members of your team are here today. Thank you for your service and dedication to protecting this country, Sergeant Y/N.”

The applause sounds louder up here than your seat, and you stand tall as Fury pins your two new awards to your chest. Natasha is standing, probably clapping louder than anyone else, and her reaction makes you feel happier than the two awards you’ve just been given. 

“Thank you, General,” you say, saluting him with a tight voice. 

“Don’t thank me, Sergeant Y/N. I didn’t even write the speech,” he teases, standing next to you and posing for some pictures. 

***********************************************************************

After the ceremony, you skip your own after party to go home with Natasha. You give everyone the excuse that you’re tired, which isn’t technically a lie, but now you just want to spend time with Natasha. She brings you to her apartment, which is bigger and nicer than yours, but you don’t even have a second to revel in its familiarity when she pushes you into the bedroom. 

She helps unbutton your shirt, being very mindful of your new awards, taking it over to her closet to properly hang up. You can’t help but smile at how respectful she is when it's normally a desperate frenzy to get you undressed. You toss your crutch onto the floor, leaning most of your weight on your left leg while trying to simultaneously unbuckle your belt and take off your pants without falling over. 

By the time she comes over to you, she’s already naked herself and you can’t help but moan when she presses against you, skin-to-skin. She wraps her strong arms around your waist, helping keep you upright, leaning up to kiss you. You can tell she’s trying to be gentle with you, but you can feel her passion with the way her hands possessively run up your sides, skating carefully over the new, large scar along your ribs. Her nails dig into your back muscles to press you against her harder.

“Nat,” you whisper when you start to feel your right leg shaking. You know you lost some muscle mass and definition being cooped up in a hospital bed for months, but Natasha doesn't seem to mind. You're also embarrassed that you can’t stay standing for long, but Natasha pulls away to take your hand and lead you to the bed. You limp after her, immediately dropping to your knees on the mattress as she lays down in front of you.

“I really want you, Y/N,” she says, practically devouring you with her eyes alone. “But if you’re not up to it, I can wait.”

“I want you too, Nat. So much,” you reply, starting to jerk yourself off to hardness. It’s been months since you’ve had an opportunity to have her like this; as often as her visits to your room in the hospital were, you weren’t well enough to engage in her favorite activity the way you used to. It had been hard on both of you to have to wait, and part of you was nervous that you wouldn’t last that long or didn’t remember how to please her.   

“Okay. How do you want me?” Natasha asks, and it’s unusual for her to let you decide. But she seems to understand the importance of going at your pace and doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable.

“Uh…on your knees?” you suggest, not even sure what you’ll be able to handle. As long as the movement was minimal, you figure you’d be okay. 

“Okay.” Natasha kisses you again before turning to face away from you, presenting her perfect backside. Instinctively you grab onto it, shuffling forward until your cock bumps against her butt. You’re already throbbing at her touch but you want to make sure she’s near the same level as you.

You bend forward, your side protesting a little at the movement, but you push through, slipping your arm around her waist to drag your fingers through her folds. Natasha puts her hand on your wrist to guide you better, and you start panting in anticipation when you feel how wet she is.    

You dip your fingers into her while circling her clit and her body stiffens underneath you. You’re just glad you’re doing something right as she ruts back against you with a whine, guiding you to move faster and deeper. 

“Fuck, I think I’m already going to cum,” Natasha admits, tightening around your fingers. She forces you to stop moving so you wait for her next instruction. It makes you feel a little bit better that you’re not the only one with decreased stamina. “Are you ready, babe?” she asks. “I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say, looking down at your hard cock that’s standing almost at a 90-degree angle. 

“Okay. Fuck me good, Y/N.”

Her words turn you feral almost instantly and you steady yourself by holding onto her waist with both hands, maybe a little harder than you intend because you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to keep yourself upright, even in this kneeling position. The tip of your cock brushes against her hot center and this time, you don’t wait for further permission to enter her. You push in, her tight heat surrounding you, and you have to bite your lip to remind yourself not to cum immediately. 

“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, afraid to move while you adjust to how perfectly she stretches around you. Your cock twitches when she pulls you in deeper and you finally move your hips in time with hers, although a little more slowly than you would have liked.

You moan like you haven’t been fucked in months, which is technically true, and Natasha pulses harder around you when she hears your reaction to her. She pushes back against your abs with some force, a little afraid that she’ll knock you over, but she’s so desperate to be filled by you. Her toys, her hands, and even yours would never compare to your cock. 

The bedroom quickly fills with the slick noises of your cock sliding in and out of her pussy. The pain in your side and thigh starts to become noticeable even with the numbing pleasure between your legs, and you realize you have to finish soon or you won’t get to at all. 

“Nat, I…I need to cum,” you beg, hoping she’s at her peak too. 

“Let go, babe,” Natasha says, curling her hands into the blankets and lifting her hips higher so you can piston against the sensitive spot inside of her. It takes a few more strokes that almost have you seeing stars before you unload, arching forward to bury yourself to the hilt as you pump out your seed in a few hard bursts. The pressure of being filled is enough to send Natasha over the edge, her cum dripping onto your cock as you pull out and collapse next to her on the bed, your chest heaving and sweat collecting around your neck. 

Natasha reaches out to you, wrapping herself around your body like a koala bear. Although she would love to go another round with you, she can tell you’re too exhausted and doesn’t want to push you. So as you slowly drift off to sleep, Natasha whispers in your ear how much she loves you and how she’ll never take you for granted again. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: And things are basically back to normal for these two! :)

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader

[punksocks]

Signs Your on the Right or Wrong Path:

(Check your Moon sign, Mars sign, Ascendant, and/or North Node)

(Also wrong path behaviors tend to fit underdeveloped energy, so you may recognize these behaviors in low vibrational people with these placements)

Right path:

-Aries: You feel energetic, you may start working out more/doing more physical activities, you’re going on new adventures, pure enthusiasm, you’ve got a lot of new prospects, you still charge into situations and sometimes arguments but you avoid constant fighting and long term grudges

-Taurus: You’re making money/feeling abundant, you’re feeling creative, feeling satisfied with physical comforts (perfect meals, great self care, etc), feeling stubborn still but in a reasonable grounded way with a bit of flexibility

-Gemini: You’re quick on your feet, constantly coming up with new ideas, you’re winning a lot of verbal sparring matches/debates, suddenly absorbing a lot of new information, feeling like you’re in an intellectually stimulating environment

-Cancer: Emotionally at ease, feeling protective without being defensive, feeling at home with whatever loved ones you’re around, peaceful nostalgia, comfort in your environment/home life, being nurturing without forcing it, feeling more fertile (as straightforward as pregnancy but as all encompassing as getting a lot of new ideas or being great at cooking or growing a garden that blossoms, etc)

-Leo: Gaining attention effortlessly, increased self confidence/charisma, more creativity, getting more compliments than usual, feeling empowered and like your gettting the right amount of attention and feedback on a regular basis

-Virgo: Great productivity, being seen as reliable and supportive and being appreciated for it, getting to cross items off your todo lists, -less- anxiety and overthinking/finding ways to soothe this, improved mental health, your hygnine and routine improve and flow better, being supported and given space to rest and relax when you need to

-Libra: increased charm/beauty (a glow up essentially), peace in your social life, increased romance, getting more compliments than usual, ease in making choices, generally feeling more balanced, feeling more creative

-Scorpio: Being around people/a person you can actually really trust, being allowed to open up in your own time, great intimacy with passion and payoff and all that, transformations come easy-like shedding a second skin, feeling rewarded with safety in exchange for the vulnerability you do show, depth and understanding even if it’s only with one or two people

-Sagittarius: constant stimulation and exciting adventures (big or small), growing understanding and philosophies, more opportunities to travel and good things coming from travel, more opportunities to learn about cultures outside of your own, increased optimism and luck

-Capricorn: making money/long term investments & projects starting to pay off, clear and healthy skin, getting money from random places, your new ideas work out better than expected, gaining recognition for your hard work, elevating to new heights/gaining promotions at work, being able to carve out your own path of progress

-Aquarius: embracing your uniqueness and being celebrated for it, one of a kind ideas, feeling innovative, feeling good will and participating in humanitarian efforts, getting involved with the local community, embracing chaos and being rewarded for it, losing the desire to fit in.

-Pisces: good dreams, fluidity in daydreams and reality, new sparks for your creativity coming from your subconscious/good spiritual efforts, heightened clarity, peace of mind and tranquility coming more naturally, understanding what you process subconsciously and trusting your intuition more

Wrong path:

-Aries: Feeling lethargic/losing energy after short bursts, headaches, restlessness, constantly being stalled when you try new things, constant fighting with everyone and anyone that never seems to end

-Taurus: You’re losing money/abundance, you’re feeling rushed, you’re overindulging/binging on comforts- none of your luxuries fill the void, every hill is a hill you’re willing to die on (feeling especially stubborn)

-Gemini: You’re bored, feeling stuck, you’re having issues communicating (suddenly stuttering or drawing blanks, for example, you could even lose your voice), trouble learning and thinking, feeling like no one around you can match your intelligence

-Cancer: constantly manipulating emotions around you/your emotions being constantly manipulated, toxic codependency on family/loved ones, chest pains, yearning for the past and dissatisfaction with the present, lack of care, lack of fertility

-Leo: attention starved and you have to beg for others to pay attention to you, back pains, feeling like you only get attention at the wrong times/for the wrong things, a lot of envy/jealousy, acting out in bratty/diva ways, partying too much

-Virgo: overthinking (like you’re always going to overthink, but when it’s bad you cannot stop overthinking), uncontrollable anxiety, stomach aches, a lot of busy work with very little progress, endless to-do lists, sudden forced changes to your consistency/routine, being used for support and this being thankless, insane levels of restlessness

-Libra: Loss of appeal (not being ugly but finding your charm and general appeal towards others works less than it usually does), being depressed/uninspired about your looks, feeling like all your connections are shallow/loss of romance, being surrounded by conflict, finding it impossible to make decisions, loss of creativity

-Scorpio: feeling like -something- is off and not being able to shake that feeling (something probably is off, trust your gut), feeling like you need to guard your secrets/yourself with your life, gossip and rumors about you coming from your inner circle, intimacy that doesn’t feel worth it, you or others trying to bar you from changing & transforming, shallow connections, repeating cycles of toxic behavior

-Sagittarius: Boredom/stagnancy, shutting down discussions/learning by being too blunt, close mindedness in general, feeling stuck or cagey, environments that lack cultural stimulation, sudden bouts of bad luck/things falling apart

-Capricorn: losing money/going over budget, business ventures failing, skin problems/breakouts, drowning in work but not being able to finish any of it, being stuck in toxic systems/patterns of behavior, being controlled/dominated, having your ambition capped/hitting a glass ceiling of some sort in your goals

-Aquarius: conformity/changing your identity or ideals to conform to others, feeling cold/too disconnected towards others (like seeing people as a problem to solve instead of individuals to help), calculating behavior in general, lack of ingenuity/out of the box ideas, being too rooted in the past/how things once were

-Pisces: nightmares, not being able to tell the difference between reality and daydreams, increased problems with mental illness, being triggered uncontrollably by your subconscious, dealing with more illusions and lies, creativity stalling, romanticizing your connections and the people around you (seeing depth where there is none or vice versa)

#astro observations #astroblr #astro notes #astro community #astrology #capricorn #aquarius #taurus #Libra #Scorpio #Aries #Gemini #cancer #Leo #Virgo #Sagittarius #Pisces

[korereapers]

I collaborated with the amazing @laxi0v0 for a cute little event we made in the scriddler server. This is Laxi's art about the fic I wrote, and HONESTLY HONESTLY i couldn't have asked for a better and more supportive partner. Her art is way better than I would ever dream on writing and honestly, Laxi, I'm so glad it was you bc we vibe a lot about our tastes w this ship.

The fic will be on ao3 later, but here, for you guys, before anyone else:

Jonathan takes a sip out his mug, nicely decorated with a pumpkin, the recipe of the pumpkin spice coffee perfected by him for decades. It’s warm, it tastes like fall, and it’s the start of what Jonathan considers to be the best time of the year.

It started like a small tradition for him, when he finally left home and started studying to become the psychologist he wanted to be. Halloween was to be celebrated, especially for freaks like him, abhorrent creatures that made great-granny’s skin crawl. He was proud of that, in a way. It was his moment, it still is, after all of these years, because he is still a freak, he belongs to this weather and these colors more than he belongs anywhere else. He belongs between ocher leaves and the smell of fog, the rain starting to fall over Gotham, only to leave when it’s summer again. The start of his kingdom, of the time he rules over.

Or it would be, if Edward wasn’t so adamant about going to freaking Starbucks.

He doesn’t get it, not really. A malnourished child from Georgia, surrounded by overworked kids that serve them with the most forced smile when Edward asks, yet again, for the infamous Pumpkin Spice Latte. With ice. Oatmeal milk. Whipped cream.

Jonathan wants to die.

“How is this even supposed to be spooky?”

Edward rolls his eyes, green contact lenses barely moving, as if they were starting to get glued to his irises. Which should be a bad sign, but Jonathan is, yet again, not his boyfriend’s keeper.

“Not everything has to be spooky when this time arrives, Jonathan.”

He kind of dislikes it, when he calls him by his full name. He calls him Jon when they are alone, when they are intimate, when their bodies or their hearts are entwined. He doesn’t like when he calls him Jonathan, because that means that Edward thinks he is being too bitter, complaining too much, a complete prick.

It’s not that he dislikes the stupid PSL, either, but it feels like desecrating one of his oldest traditions, and he feels as if he were betraying himself.

“Don’t you like my recipe, then? Do you dislike it so much we have to come here every single week?”

The cashier smiles at them awkwardly as Edward pays for their order, tipping the young lady generously.

“Do you have to take everything personally? I started getting here when I finally had my own money to spend. Is it that hard to just enjoy it, when I want to share it with you?”

Oh. A tradition. Jonathan distractedly drinks from his thematic glass, but says nothing.

They are really different, Edward and himself. To Edward, spending time and money like this… is almost a love language. It’s a lifestyle that he works hard to keep, having dinner in expensive places, getting coffee every time he can. Sharing it with him, because Jonathan is important to him.

Jonathan may be unable to feel fear, and his brain may be as damaged as Edward’s heart, but guilt still crawls its way into his psyche. It still makes him feel uneasy, because he cares, because he understands the feeling, because he wants to share his recipe with Edward because of the exact same reason.

He touches Edward’s hand when they sit, an apology he doesn’t utter but that can be felt in his irradiated orange eyes.

“I like it when you share time and nourishment with me.”

Edward’s expression softens, a glint of blue under the bright green contact lenses.

“Wow, when did you get emotionally aware?” his mouth says instead, and for a moment, Jonathan understands the Bat and his compulsion to punch him in the mouth.

“I’m a psychologist, Edward.”

“... right,” he mutters, his voice cheeky, still clearly a little mad, his thoughts loud. Jonathan loves that about him, his expression when he is deep in thought, when he is trying to understand something. A puzzle, a new riddle in their lives. “That recipe of yours is really important to you, too, if I’m guessing correctly.”

Jonathan nods, his eyes still on Edward’s, who seems to be feeling a little bit too shy to look at him, knowing that they are having an emotionally vulnerable moment.

“It is. I made it myself and… I want to share it with you.”

Edward does smile a little at that, his voice softer when he speaks.

“Let me try it later. I want to give it the thought and recognition it deserves.”

Jonathan’s thumb caresses Edward’s hand, his smile contagious. Like a well concocted virus.

“I would love to.”

—-------------------------------------------

Edward is pretty sure that he is (very unluckily, by the way) dating the man with the poorest taste in the world. Jonathan seems to think that he is hilarious, dressed in his usual costume, even the needles oozing toxin as he sits quietly on the couch.

There is a thing about him that Edward has always loved: how he becomes a different person when the mask is on.

They used to talk about it, back in the day, when they used to share a room in the Asylum. Jonathan felt naked without his mask, his expression dull and almost tense, devoid of what made him himself. Edward, at least, has managed to make those expressions change, the real Jon emerging from behind whatever aloof façade he tries to put on to protect himself, to pretend he is a regular human being and not the freak that makes his heart melt.

He must surely be smiling behind the mask, then. Edward can almost feel him vibrating in excitement, like a small child, and in a way, he kind of is. A reclaimed childhood, the enjoyment of a joy he wasn’t allowed to feel. He can understand that.

Still, the poorest fucking choice of a Halloween costume.

“Really, Jon? The most original idea, I have to say.”

Jonathan looks at him, and he can feel his piercing eyes even behind the mask, the expression of a predator, so dangerous it makes his face flush a little. Birds of a feather, both of them. The Scarecrow sighs, deeply, the sound distorted behind the mask. It’s creepy, he has to admit, which is probably… kind of the point.

“Like you’re one to talk, Herlock Sholmes.”

Edward gasps, indignant. His Poirot costume is nothing to be laughed at.

“Excuse me?!”

He can almost feel the smile behind the mask, because Edward knows him, he knows Jonathan is an avid reader, he knows the difference between Agatha Christie and Arthur Conan Doyle, for fuck's sake. He is doing this on purpose, to rile him up. He always is.

Edward's mind goes somewhere else, somewhere private. Somewhere where he is indeed riled up, and Jonathan touches his cheek, looking up at his face from behind the mask, Edward sitting on his lap, while long, dangerous hands go up his thigh, eyes hungry-

The doorbell rings. Edward goes back to reality, Jonathan's eyes on him as he moves towards the entrance, the tips of his ears surely blushing.

When he opens the door, he has to look down, because damn, kids sure look tinier these days. He cannot remember to be this short, this innocent, this…

Happy.

He feels Jonathan's chin on his shoulder, almost jumping in place because the man is silent like a ghost, no matter how eager he is to take part in the holiday.

One of the kids is wearing a Batman costume, and Edward tries his hardest not to roll his eyes, with better or worse success. Another kid is dressed as Harley Quinn, what makes him wonder if these parents are in need of any kind of psychological help. The youngest, a child dressed as Wonder Woman, looks at them with badly hidden mischief, and Edward feels tempted to just close the door.

"Trick or treat!" They ask in unison, and before Edward can answer, Jonathan drops a bag in front of them, full of who knows what, but the kids don't ask.

Such blissful ignorance.

"Thank you Mister Holmes! Mister Scarecrow!" The girl dressed up as Batman says, and the one dressed as Wonder Woman purses her lips in disgust.

"Poirot's moustache isn't like that. You're a fake."

The kid dressed as Harley Quinn laughs in response, taking the bag of candy and running away with Wonder Woman. The one dressed as Batman follows who Edward believes to be her sisters, and he blissfully thanks that they don't have any children.

"Please tell me the bag is full of drugs."

Jonathan chuckles a little, his arms around Edward's waist.

"Hershey's," is everything he says, his sudden lack of malice and evil intent a headache for Edward.

"Oh, Jon. Are you going soft on me?"

Jonathan's smile can be felt in the air, a predator, a killer awaiting their next victim.

"Me? Oh, darlin'..." he whispers against Edward's ear, his distorted voice making him shudder in anticipation. "Never."

#scriddler #my stuff #and laxi's #dc #riddler #scarecrow #edward nygma #edward nigma #edward nashton #jonathan crane #i love you laxi.... really

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

#edited to add the note about crowley's perspective right after the cut! apologies if it seemed anti-aziraphale before! #good omens meta #good omens lockdown #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorcees #i can't even imagine navigating the pandemic brain scramblies while pining THAT HARD #Aziraphale is a company man (gn) but i think S3 will cure him of that #long but if i can't write essays about this on tumblr then where #good omens spoilers

[gilverrwrites]

Coming Out of Retirement

Reader/Bruce Wayne Ft. Almost all of the BatFam. (Sorry Alfred) Reader is an ex-con who has renounced their life of crime and settled down as a stay-at-home parent and trophy partner, until the itch to get back on the streets re-emerges. To celebrate this new found life of heroism, their BatFamily arranges a suprise.

3.1K Words CWs: Mainly fluff, but, non descript mentions of sex (implied dom Bruce), mild arguing, competition, self-doubt, public kissing. Limelight. A singular batarang may or may not get thrown. It might have been Daman.

Adorning your name with the suffix ‘-Wayne’ has done wonders for your image. Rarely were you billed as a criminal in the media, very few events failed to send you an invitation, people who would previously have shunned you in the streets now unsubtly eager to get into or stay in the billionaire families’ good graces. It did not, however, fully erase your criminal past. The extensive list of felonies that came with the rest of your name meant that few people were willing to take a chance on hiring you. When you’d told your husband, Bruce that after months of searching, your only legitimate job offers were loading crates at the docks or sweeping floors at a high school he’d baulked. Those were perfectly fine jobs, vital even, but not particularly fitting for the meticulously curated image the Waynes had carved out over centuries.

Instead, he’s found you a job at Wayne Enterprises, and by found, you mean made-up a job, something to do with analysis and CAPEX, fancy words for sitting behind a desk, a desk that made your skin crawl. Truth is, no job would have scratched the itch you were trying to scratch. A day job was simply the compromise you’d come to with your husband. What you’d really wanted was to get back out onto the streets, not to commit crimes, but to stop them. Bruce didn’t like the idea, citing that it would be emotionally challenging for you to fight against your former allies and friends. Additionally, civilians wouldn’t trust you. You’d argued that those issues would improve with practice and time. That your skills were wasted being a stay-at-home parent and trophy partner, and he knew it, he always knew when you were right, he just hated to admit it. So, you’d come to the mutual agreement that you would work a ‘normal job’, and if, after 6 months had passed, you were still aching to get back in the game, then and only then would he approve.

From there it became a bit of an unspoken game between you. He kept your body and mind as occupied as possible, hoping to keep you distracted. Nights off from patrolling were spent in bed with you, bending and stretching and everything else-ing your body to his will for as long as his near infinite stamina could manage. He’s named you as the primary point of contact for Damian’s school, which had you driving to and from the academy to deal with his many infractions on what felt like a daily basis. If that wasn’t inconvenient enough, it also put you behind on the ungodly amount of paperwork he had sent to your desk each morning.

That didn’t stop you. Instead, you found ways around it. Your early morning runs were really combat and target training with Jason. Your fortnightly visits with your eldest, Dick, really were check-in, as wells as a chance to practice patrolling on the streets of Blüdhaven. Even Babs had loaned you a few updated gadgets for your dusty old utility belt. Tim had given you back-door access to most of the files on the bat-computer, and you spent your lunch hour reading up on the who’s who of Gotham’s current criminal underground between rushed mouthfuls of protein-heavy salads and coffee. Some faces you knew, had been on a first-name basis with, others were complete strangers, indicators that you’d been out of the game too long.

It was funny when you thought about it, even in marriage you were still finding ways to thwart each-other.

Bruce knew all of this, of course, he wasn’t the world's greatest detective for nothing, but he kept it to himself. The same way you kept his tactics to obstruct your plans quiet.

Until today. A sleepy Sunday morning in which Jason had kept you training for twice as long as usual, before joining you for the walk home, chatting your ear off about the things he’d noticed in his latest re-read of Pride and Prejudice, right up until you’d made it inside where a note had been left for you on the fridge. The words ‘CAVE ASAP’ had been scrawled on it in Bruce's handwriting.

When you’d shown it to Jay he’s just shrugged and followed you to the entrance. You might have been concerned, had you not known that today was the six-month anniversary of your deal, the closing date. You were concerned, however, when you were met with 6 smiling faces awaiting you, 7 if you include Jason, 8 if you include Bruce's nonsmiling face.

“What is this?” You query. “Whose watching the city?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve enlisted a couple of friends to keep an eye on Gotham, they’ll signal us if anything comes up that they can’t handle.”

Something feels different, something other than the unusually large crowd. Your eyes scan the room until they land on a new instalment to the cave, four glass cases, holding four suits that seemed both completely new, but somehow familiar.

“That’s good, but you didn’t answer my first question.” You finally respond to Bruce, pointing to the pods to indicate that you now require further clarification.

“It’s been six months since we made our deal, and it has become abundantly clear that there is no derailing you from getting what you want.”

“Which is one of the many reasons you married me~” His straight face breaks at your jest.

“Is this how they always flirt?” “This is tame, you don’t want to see their real flirting.” “Shhhhh.” Muffled voices whisper amongst the cluster of children, and you’re admittedly impressed it took this long for any of them to say something.

“This is by no means a full sign-off.” Bruce continues, “There will be rigorous tests for you to pass before it becomes official- ”

“Don’t worry, it’s not personal.” Dick butts in, and you're grateful for the reassurance. You’d been concerned that your villainous past might make you subject to extra scrutiny, even if you’d clearly proven yourself reformed many times over. “We all had to go through the testing phase.”

“Yeah, some of us did better than others.” Tim's statement is clearly directed at Steph who responds with an unamused glare.

“Yes.” The budding conversation is stifled by Bruce for that singular word before everybody bursts out with a chorus of “WELCOME TO THE TEAM!”

From there you’re rallied into a seemingly never-ending parade of hugs, each accompanied by some form of “congratulations”; “Knew you’d win out.” “You got this!” “You thought he kept you busy before, good luck.”

It was Barbara who finally informed you what the suits were. “We wanted to surprise you with an updated suit, but none of us could agree on one design.”

“So, we split into teams and made our own.” Duke finished.

Your celebratory lap quickly descended into a clash from there. Each team trying to point out their own design, to get you to look at theirs first, to try them on. You knew each of them loved you in their own way, but you hadn’t quite got the knack of demanding respect in the same way Bruce had. He could silence their quarrelling with a well-timed look. You had to shout above them to be heard, but your voice reached their ears in waves of twos and threes, eventually, they all settled. Finding spots to sit or lean on as they watched and waited for your next move.

“How about I go through them each, one at a time, left to right?” A sea of heads nod back at you. “Great, whose is this first one?”

“Mine.” “Ours.”

Damian has a strong personality, self-assured, sharp. You love those parts of him, many don’t. Tim included. With time, they’d grown on each other, formed a brotherly bond, if anything due to the forced proximity, but their relationship was still strained at times. Damian hadn’t killed Tim, but that didn’t alleviate all of the tension between them, so it meant the world that they’d shelved their issues long enough to do something nice, even if the end result wasn’t exactly, your style. It was cool, no doubt about it, but it was certainly a ‘Robin’ suit. Primarily red, with a green cape, a lot of built-in gadgets you’d never seen before, and “Are these knuckle dusters?”

“Yes, made with steel, much like your old ones but these are coated in a gold alloy.” Damian informs you. It doesn’t go amiss that they seem to match the gold pieces from his own costume.

“We know you don’t really like capes, so it’s detachable,” Tim interjects, pointing at different pieces and areas of the gear, anyone could tell he was in his element, one of many. “The left glove has a built-in dispenser for pellets, and the right glove has a travel-size holographic computer that’s connected to the mainframe. Think of it like a smartphone but for comms and information only.”

“Yeah, Bruce doesn’t like it when we use it to watch TikTok.” Duke jokes, and is rewarded with a few cautious laughs.

“Wow!” You smile, fiddling with the edge of the forest green gloves in question. “This is all so advanced. I- ”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah blah blah!” Steph's voice cuts in before you can thank your Robins. You can tell she’s excited by the way she bounces on her toes, Barbara right behind her, both grinning, both ignoring Damian's stink eye. You can forgive them, you always do. “Us next!”

“The gadgets are all updated versions of the stuff I loaned you for Blüdhaven, I’ve been tracking the way you use them, and based on the feedback I’ve removed the features you didn’t use much and refocused the excess power on ramping up the stuff you do use.” Barbara tells you through the door as you change.

The girls had really hit the nail on the head in the style department, and you had to applaud yourself for that one really. The girls hadn’t just taken inspiration from your previous get-up, they’d seemingly taken the very blueprints and modernised it. The silhouette was identical, right down to the patched-up adjustable waist you’d had to add due to your fluctuating diet whilst in and out of Blackgate. Only now, everything was made from black reinforced leather with matte panelling. Pops of your signature colour reflected in the stitching as well as the gloves, utility belt, and a pair of shiny docs.

This is incredible, you refrain from saying, careful not to spark any more flames in what was clearly already a competition. “This is nearly identical to my old suits; how did you manage it?”

“Bruce had one of your old suits tucked away in the trophy room,” Steph informs you, shooting Bruce a smug look, in response he remains still, face completely unmoving. “He thought we wouldn’t find it, but we did.”

You don’t focus much on how or why he had it. It was likely ‘borrowed’ from a GCPD evidence locker, brought here so he could study it, help him better understand an adversary. But you did wonder why he’d kept it for so long. When you cast him a curious glance, he stares back at you, sporting the same poker-faced expression he’s given Steph.   

Your lips part, ready to ask but a voice interrupts, Damian; “It’s unoriginal.”

“Yeah.” Tim agrees. “And old fashioned.”

For a moment you’re offended, considering that it’s based on your own design.

“At least they didn’t make a Robin suit.” Jason jumps in, possibly to defend, probably to stir the pot.

“That’s enough.” You declare, holding your hands to garner attention. “They’re both great, in their own ways, now whose next?”

It’s obvious whose next, if the sequins didn’t give it away, their grinning faces did.

“We figured everyone else would have you covered on the tech and practicality side of things.” Duke explains as Dick retrieves their joined project from its pod and hands it to you.

“We wanted to make something that speaks to your soul.” Dick finishes. Their statement clearly rehearsed for maximum intrigue.

You don’t say the first response that comes to mind, but Tim does, near abouts. “And their soul is a reject from Abba’s wardrobe?”

“I said enough.” But he was right. They were all right, in a way, it wasn’t techy or practical, but it certainly appealed to something inside you. A desire to stand out? To dress like the superheroes of your childhood Saturday morning cartoons?

It was by far the smallest suit, with skin-tone tights to keep your arms and legs warm. A near plunging neckline, with a flared collar that was meant to be worn popped. Looking closer you could see that the sequins weren’t sequins at all, but little meal plates coated in some kind of iridescent polish, surely there was some form of pragmatic reason for it, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Maybe not for stopping a bank robbery.” You ponder aloud, swaying your body to see how well the shiny metallic layer reflected light, the dimness of the cave not offering much to work with. “But certainly, for a disco, do places still do discos?”

“No.” Four voices reply in deadpan unity.

“Don’t even humour them.” Jason is having none of it, the look on his face reads that he can’t believe you even tried it on. “I was supposed to be on their team, but I refuse to put my name on that monstrosity.”

“Hey.” Duke and Dick respond in unison, furrowed brows and inadvertently pouty lips don’t suit their faces.

“I supposed that explains the last one.” You redirect before another argument can break out. The final suit, Jay's suit, isn’t really a suit at all. More a mishmash of things seemingly cobbled together from the nearest army surplus store. Big military-grade boots that feel clunky on your feet, a black spandex turtleneck, a thermal-lined leather jacket with stray threads that clearly had previously secured a multitude of now-missing embroidered patches, and camo trousers that had been dyed to match your colours.

“How you have the audacity to claim our suit is a Robin suit, when yours is clearly devised from your own wardrobe astounds me, Todd.” Damian comments coldly, deploying his patented glare.

“It only looks like that because it’s cool, and I only wear cool stuff.” Jason fires back.

“It’s not cool, it looks like something an edgy teenager thinks is cool.”

“At least mine has- ” “Yours isn’t even- ” “This isn’t the 80s!”

A slew of arguments and insults are thrown back and forth, voices talking over each other. The distinct sound of a batarang being launched rings throughout the cave until Barbara silences everyone with the loud clapping of her hands and the declaration that; “We have to let them decide.”

Seven pairs of eyes fall on you, all awaiting vindication, and more importantly: bragging rights. It was an impossible situation; you’d known that from the beginning. There was no conceivable way you could pick one without hurting feelings, or more likely, causing a war. It would be akin to picking a favourite child. Fortunately, you’re saved by The Bat.

“Actually,” Bruce’s deep voice intervenes, cutting through the charged silence, finally speaking up for the first time since your unconventional fashion show had begun. He presses a button on the console beside you and another case ascends from the floor, revealing a 5th suit. “There's one more.”

His smile is smug, the same that often graces your son's faces, particularly Damian's. A smile that says he’s already won. That or he’s simply enjoying seeing his family engage in some healthy, almost non-combative competition. Either way, it evokes a communal groan from the children.

It seems Bruce had had a similar idea to Babs and Steph. The suit resembled your old one, with some noticeable differences. It was all shades of matte black, from head to toe, excluding a very subtle, scattered layer of glitter embedded in the thermal lined fabric. Glitter of your signature colour, you could tell it had been included to appeal to you, but also to have minimal effect on your being able to blend into the dark.

It also included an embellishment of lightweight armour, gloves that seemed to be a direct knockoff from Tims, and a utility belt. But the thing that stood out most, the thing all the others lacked, was a single, shiny symbol adorning its chest piece. Your symbol. So taken with it, you can’t help but run your fingertips across the cool metal, accidentally dislodging it.

“Oh sh- sugar.” You correct yourself, careful not to swear in front of impressionable, or teasing ears. “I broke it already!”

Your husband chuckles, low but soft as he fastens it back into place. “I haven’t finalised that piece yet. I thought maybe you’d want to change your alias, something not associated with your past.”

“Oh.” The insignia suddenly feels much heavier. No matter how much you, Bruce, or anybody else had reassured you during your relationship, you’d always suspected, just a little bit that Bruce might resent your former life, might be ashamed of it, and the confirmation hit you like a ton of bricks. As tempting as it is to agree to the proposition, to make him happy you can’t. “Bruce, my past is a part of who I am. I can’t change that.”

“I know. I thought better of it later, that’s why I had it made.” He places his hand over the top of yours, pressing you both against the metal symbol. “I knew you’d rather reclaim this one.”

A smile spreads across your face then, and he mirrors it with his own. You can’t help it, the relief of having his approval, the warmth of his acceptance, he always gets you, eventually. You also can’t help leaning in for a kiss, one which he happily welcomes, cupping your hips and pulling you closer as your lips press together. The embrass is short-lived, the moment sullied by the distress of your children.

“EW!”

“Gross.”

“I’m outta here.” “I’ll join you.”

“Appalling sight parents.”

“Guess Bruce won then.” “Lame, ours was better.”

When the cave is cleared out, you waste no time pulling Bruce back in to finish your kiss, attacking him with multiple smatterings across his jaw, cheeks, and lips. He laughs, weak to your ambush, greedily enjoying every second of it until you pull away.

“I should go find them, say thank you. This was all very thoughtful.” Nothing would go to waste; you were already planning how you might integrate pieces of each suit into one. One that would reflect who you were, adorned with pieces of the people who had supported you through it, whether intentionally or not.

You can tell Bruce wants to keep you here, but he nods, reluctantly agreeing until the screen behind him flashes red, an alarm begins beeping incessantly. “You’ll have to thank them later.”

Time to put your new suit into action.

#dc #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #batfam #batfam x reader #gilverrwrites #dick grayson #duke thomas #jason todd #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #tim drake #damian wayne

[haggishlyhagging]

Waiting is part of the stereotyped role for women—a large part. Waiting to grow, for breasts and hips to fill out, to wear lipstick, perfume, brassieres: waiting to star in the big role—man enticer. Waiting to be asked for a date. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting, waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting to be asked to dance. Waiting to be asked to go steady. Waiting to be asked to marry. Always waiting for someone else to act. Passively, miserably waiting.

And if the phone doesn't ring? If no one asks? If you wait, and wait, and wait, and Prince Charming doesn't come riding up? What can you do?

In the fifties, when I was a young woman, there was nothing you could do and still be considered decent. Being able to choose and act on that choice was a privilege reserved for men. That should have told me something. I think it did, but I didn't want—or didn't know how—to deal with it at the time. So I put it away in that deep unconscious filing cabinet reserved for matters which must have frightened me with their too-clear implications of female servitude and subordination. It took me forty-two years of gathering such data unbeknownst to myself before I finally accumulated more than my file could hold and it burst open, forcing me to look.

Waiting is one of the earmarks of subservience. As Milton truly says, "They also serve who only stand and wait." Waiting is a service. The words waitress, lady-in-waiting, waiter are all service titles. Waiting delineates rank. Sergeants don't keep colonels waiting, but generals do. Teachers don't keep principals waiting, but superintendents do. Those in power can make their subordinates wait, can expect them to wait. To keep someone waiting is manipulation, a method of maintaining control; it is a way of announcing and wielding power.

My unconscious servitude to Rick began early in our courtship. I remember sitting on a bench by the service station for several hours while he fixed his car. It was an unspoken assumption in my youth that girls loved to keep boys company during such times, liked to hold things for them, enjoyed watching them clean the points, or change the brake shoes. Having their girl hovering around must have been like having their own private cheerleader. Girls did it because we wanted to be with them more than they wanted to be with us. We were more emotionally dependent upon them, as we had been trained to be. We needed to be around them, and though they liked having us around, they had other interests in their lives. We had been trained to have only one major interest, despite all the other things we might do, and that was them. Not because it is any more natural for us females to be dependent and to base our entire lives upon some male's approval and presence, but because patriarchy socialized us thus. It is great for male egos. It is catastrophic for ours.

But I didn't get a real taste of the despotism of waiting until Rick discovered the computer at the University of Minnesota. The next ten years were one long struggle against the humiliation of being constantly rejected for the computer—Rick's "iron mistress," his "three sexty." Ten years of being completely forgotten for whole days and suddenly remembered apologetically, of my putting the uneaten supper away and going to bed at midnight or one or two A.M., not having heard from Rick since morning when he promised to be home by six.

That he should have thought it natural to keep a human being waiting for six, seven, twelve hours without word made it clear to me again and again how he thought of me, how not completely human I was to him, how much just a part of himself—not a separate or real person to be taken seriously, or about whose esteem he needed to worry. He would never have kept any male friend whose friendship he valued waiting so consistently for years. No peer would have put up with it.

At the time, I thought it was all my fault. If I were more interesting, more sexy, more something, he would want to come home to me. I blamed myself, when the fault lay in Rick's patriarchal world view.

Part of the unwritten definition of wife is: the one who waits.

I tried to tell Rick over those long years how often I felt rejected and figuratively slapped in the face. I couldn't help but believe he secretly enjoyed the idea of my waiting for him, the constant service of wondering and worrying about him in his absence. Surely there was something more behind his making me wait than mere forgetfulness. He was an extremely intelligent man, but I couldn't get him to understand how deeply he wounded me by showing disdain for the hours of my life I wasted in waiting for him and for the hurt and rage and erosion of love for him this brought about in my heart.

And through it all, I must never make him wait for me. I must never reverse the sadomasochistic game. Yet by calling it that, I admit my own collusion in it. Years ago I should have ceased to care unduly when he came or went, should have planned my life as I wanted without consulting his. Should simply not have allowed him to tyrannize and manipulate me. But I knew that the moment I refused to supply this apparently necessary ego support, I would lose him.

And I did. When I became interested in the ERA, he often had to wait for me—to get off the phone, to come home from meetings, to come to bed. I ceased to pay much attention to when he came and went. I no longer cared a great deal when he was hours late or rejoiced overmuch when he was early. My life no longer centered around him, as his had never centered around me. I began to live an independent life, such as only men are entitled to. That's when I overstepped my bounds and it was all over.

And I've thought since, with considerable wryness, how for nineteen years I waited for him, and how he couldn't wait for me for one.

-Sonia Johnson, From Housewife to Heretic

#sonia johnson #marriage #patriarchy #waiting

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Show And Tell- Matthew Sturniolo

Summary: When matt takes your virginity and shows you how to make yourself feel better about not being so experienced in the sex world

Warnings: Smut, Inexperienced!sub!reader, Experienced!Dom!Matt, praising, cursing, use of Y/N, Oral (fem receiving), P in V, Unprotected sex (Safe sex is great sex, cause you don’t want that late text that I think I'm late text- Lil Wayne), TW! brief talk of emotionally absent parents!

A/N: i absolutely love writing sweet Matt, but what i love writing more is MATT THE MF MUNCHHHH!!

psa: DONT STEAL MY WORK!! THIS BELONGS TO ME MYSELF AND I!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ever since Middle school Nick, Matt, Chris, and I have been inevitable. Their mother, Mary Lou, has always taken me in as her own, considering I was the youngest out of 5 in my family, and my parents had me later in life, as soon as I learned how to care for myself, they quit raising me and only came through in times they ‘needed’ to be parents. Mary Lou was the woman I called my mother. whenever they went on a family vacation I always went with them. To the mall? I went. She basically had Quadruplets. When the triplets moved to LA, we were all over 18, and I was more than ready to leave my parent's house even though I had pretty much moved in with them for how much I stayed over, so I moved with them. I offered to get an apartment close by, but all of them collectively agreed and even argued with me about it, so now we all live in the same house.

Today was pretty much a normal day in the house, very calm, no one was filming, and we just did our own things. Matt and I had no plans, Chris went out shopping with some friends, and Nick had meetings and then dinner plans with Tara for a collab idea which left Matt and I at the house.

“Cant believe that you and my mother BOTH collectively agreed to let me walk out of the house looking like that” Matt said laughing showing me a memory that popped up on his moms Facebook page.

“To be fair you were dead set on wearing that entire outfit and your mom and I both knew we couldn't talk you out of that” I said laughing back and throwing my hands up in defense.

“That's when I dated Cassie too, how gross,” he said giving himself the Ick.

“She was the town whore, what'd you expect,” I say giggling at my comment.

“You know I never asked, whatever happened to Jackson? I just recalled he spread some rumor about him taking your virginity, and a bunch of other stuff, and you came to the house crying and Mom was comforting you and you never spoke about that again” he looks over at me as my head hung low looking at my hands.

Jackson was a guy I ‘dated’ junior year of high school, he took me on one date, it was very nice and he seemed amazing, though I should've listened to Nick when he told me Jackson was no good. After our date instead of taking me home he insisted on talking more and drove to the park in the middle of the city. His intentions were not pure. Jackson tried every which way to get me in the backseat, I rejected many many times that night and made some excuse on how I was on my period and that immediately grossed him out. Come to find out, as soon as we got back to school he spread a rumor around the entire school that he had taken my virginity and told the school I was into weird kinks. I knew I couldn't go to my mother about that because she would have taken me directly to the health clinic to ‘check if I was still pure’ so I went to Mary Lou, i and made sure to tell her to tell the boys not to bring it up to me and try their best to shut it down.

“I uh thought i told you about what happened?” i lied and nervously laughed.

“Nope,” he said popping the ‘p’ “I'm pretty sure I would have remembered something that important to where my own mother had to come to me, Nick, and Chris, and tell us not to talk to you about it, plus I mean it's been 4 years if you don't wanna talk about it I understand,” he said reassuring me.

I've always felt comfortable with all 3 of them, and always had a special relationship with all of them, and trust them with my life. I never went to them about this because I was embarrassed I was a virgin, I wasn't gonna tell them I didn't lose my virginity, considering both Matt and Chris came to me about sex advice I didn't want them to look at me any different for not being experienced enough so I lied and told them that Jackson did take my virginity but I wasn't into the weirder stuff Jackson accused me of.

“Fuck” I mutter under my breath. “Okay so, I just wanna say one thing before I tell you what actually happened between Jackson and me” I look back at him with nerve piercing through my body.

“Y/N, you know you can tell me anything” Matt adjusts himself to face me.

“So don't judge me,” I start taking a deep breath. “So Jackson made up that entire rumor,” I take my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I’m extremely confused” he scratched the back of his head laughing.

“God this is embarrassing” I place my head in my hands “fuck it, so he didn't take my virginity at all, and obviously the kink thing was a lie” I look up at him who still has a puzzled look on his face.

“So if Jackson didn't take your virginity then who did? Cause you basically swore off dating after him” he raises his eye brows in confusion.

“No one, Matt, I'm a uh Virgin” I drop my head down in embarrassment fiddling with my fingers.

“No fucking way, you gave both Chris and me AMAZING sex advice, stop fucking with me Y/N/N” he said laughing.

“Matt I'm being for real,” I shoot him an awkward smile “and please the sex advice ain't nothing, I know what I would like so I kinda made an assumption and by the looks of it, I'm guessing it worked” I nervously laughed.

“Holy shit,” his eyes go wide “why haven't you, you know?”

“It's hard for me to trust people, especially with something like that,” I shrugged my shoulders “When I hit puberty, my mother gave me a ‘save yourself till marriage’ talk instead of informing me of my body she scared me from sex, but I had gone to your mom one day when you three were hanging with Nate and she actually gave me that kinda talk and more or less told me to always make sure I felt safe and in the hands of someone I trust, and Jackson did neither of those things” I continue to fiddle with my fingers.

“You trust me right?” he says curiously

“Matt don't be stupid, yes I do” I lightly giggle. “Why is that even a question?”

“ah fuck it, never mind” he brushes it off.

“No, no, I told you something that no one knows so come on speak up,” I lightly push his arm.

“I was gonna say I could teach you a couple things about sex but i ain't too sure you'd be down for that anyway” he shrugged his shoulders turning his body back towards the TV.

“What if I was down?” I look at him through my lashes.

His head jerks in my direction, “actually?” his eyes light up.

“Matt do you know how embarrassing it is to be an almost 21-year-old who's never had sex,” a soft giggle escaped my lips.

“Have you ever like, touched yourself before?” he said slightly cringing at his words.

I was a little taken aback by his curiosity “I mean yeah, once or twice” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Did you like ever finish from that?” he shifts his body back in my direction. “I know this sounds a bit invasive but I promise if you want to do this I have a reason for asking these questions” he placed his hand on my knee.

“No… it just um” I swallow the lump in my throat “I just couldn't..”

“So you've never experienced anything sexual?” the curiosity in his voice makes me feel safer and know he's not judging me and is actually caring enough to ask and not just crawling on top of me and getting down to it.

“Nope,” I say softly

He slowly nods “Do you want to learn?” his voice goes soft.

“H-how?” I stutter out.

“Obviously if you feel comfortable enough with it, I could be the one to show you, If you catch my drift” he sends me a reassuring smile.

“Y-you would take my virginity?” I ask nervously.

“Only if you want me to” his voice trails off

“What about Nick and Chris? God that would be awkward if they walked in or something, oh my god I don't want them to think any-” he cuts me off

“Woah slow down, it's okay, they won't be back till like 9, and it's 4 now, we'll be okay kid” he laughed rubbing soft circles with his thumb over my knee. “Do you want to do this?”

I nod softly. “No this is important to you, I want your verbal consent that this is okay” he moves closer to me.

“Yes, please, I want this, all of this,” I say softly adjusting my body closer to his.

He smiles leaning closer to my face and softly pressing his lips against mine. My eyes fall shut and I turn into jello as I feel the way his hand that was once on my knee moves up toward my hip. A small smile creeps upon both of our lips. I softly pull away.

“Can we not do this on the couch?” I say laughing a little

“Absolutely,” he stands up almost immediately and picks me up bridal style walking into his room and kicking the door open as I giggle like a kid in a candy store.

He carefully sets me down on his blue silk sheets crawls on top of me and presses his lips onto mine once again making a soft groan travel between our lips.

“Can I take this off?” he says softly playing with the hem of my shirt.

“Yes” I bite my bottom lip

He smiles down at me and pulls my shirt off leaving me in my bra. He hooks his finger under my bra strap rubbing his finger up and down just looking down at me. “You're so beautiful. I don't ever tell you much” his comment makes a soft pink shade appear on my cheeks.

He leans down again kissing me and pointing his tongue out for permission to enter, my mouth opens slightly as his tongue explores my mouth, and this time his hands start to grab at my covered breast. “You can take it off, Matt” I giggle between kisses.

He gave me no response but his left hand held my lower back and his right unclasped my bra letting it fall right off my shoulders. He pulled away from kissing me and looked down at my breast in awe. “God you're Fucking beautiful” he mutters.

His mouth begins leaving kisses down from my jawline to my collarbone and stopping at my breast looking up at me through his lashes almost asking for permission without asking. I shoot him a smile and nod and his tongue licks softly across my nipple sending shivers down my spine. He smirks to himself attaching his mouth to one of my nipples and slightly tugging at my other. He sucks and nips at my nipples taking them between his teeth every now and again. My breathing gets heavier at the sensitivity and my head falls back as a soft whimper falls from my mouth.

He lifts his head up and places himself between my legs to unbuckle my shorts, shimmy them down my legs, and throws them with the pile of clothes next to the bed. He admires my choice of underwear today, smirking as they're unironically his favorite color, purple, with a tiny little bow right up top. He hooks his finger at the top of them sliding back and forth before sliding them down my legs leaving me bare beneath him.

“such a pretty fucking pussy” he groans out. he leans his head down and spits down onto my aching pussy. using his thumb he slowly moves up and down.

“Holy fuck” I gasp out.

Matt chuckles and moves his body down where his head is now between my legs. His thumb is still slowly going up and down he begins kissing down my thighs on both sides. “I want you” he places another kiss on my thigh “to tell me” Another kiss “What feels good to you alright?” he places a kiss right above my clit.

“O-okay” I say nervously

“And please don't be afraid to tell me to stop” he gives me a reassuring smile.

I nod sending him the same warm smile. He starts to place a soft kiss on my clit before flattening his tongue on my pussy and licking a stripe up and groaning once the taste of me hits his tongue.

“Oh, Matt” My breathing hitches and I throw my head back in pleasure.

His tongue begins to flick up at a faster pace making moans spill out of my mouth, his eyes are fixated on me and how my body reacts to his mouth pleasuring me.

“Fuck you're so fucking good at this” My fingers run through his hair forcing his head deeper into me.

He moans into me sending vibrations through my body as my hips jerk up and my eyes roll back. His lips attach to my clit sucking on it a little causing a squeal to fall from my mouth.

“Fuck i-i I think I'm gonna cum” I stutter out as an unfamiliar knot forms in the pit of my stomach

“Mhm” he mutters before lifting his head “Let it go sweet girl” he lowers his head again taking my clit between his teeth and flicking upwards on it.

“Oh my FUCK” I scream out when that knot snapped a wave of euphoria pierced my body and my orgasm dripped out of me making Matt move his body to watch it happen.

He wiped his mouth using his arm smiling “you okay baby?” he chuckled.

“Fuck” I breathe out “If that's why people are sex addicts I see why god damn that was amazing” I smiled up at him.

“I'm not even done yet” he smirks lifting his shirt over his head and throwing it across the room.

“Are you 100% positive you want this?” he asks as he stands up removing his belt.

“This is the first decision I've ever made that I'm 100% positive I won't regret,” I say as I watch him remove his pants and free his cock with his tip red and throbbing for attention.

He climbs back and moves me farther up on the bed. “Fuck there's no way that's gonna fit in me, that's fucking massive,” I say as my eyes stare at his cock.

“It'll fit baby” he chuckles “shit I don't have a condom,” he says rummaging through his bedside table.

“I'm on birth control, you don't need one” I smile up at him.

“Are you sure?” he smirks.

“Yes Matt,” I smile batting my lashes up at him.

“Okay then” he brings his hand up to his mouth and spits in it before gliding his now wet hand to coat his aching cock. “I gonna go slow, inch by inch and you tell me when to move, and tell me if it hurts too much I'll stop immediately,” he says aligning his cock with my entrance.

“Okay,” I breathe out.

As his tip slowly enters me I hiss. “Are you okay?” he says with a concerned look on his face.

“I'm okay just hurts” I reply biting my lower lip.

He slowly enters another couple of inches. Watching how my face nuzzled up at the new feeling. Then he slides in another few inches. After a couple of minutes, he's fully bottomed out. “Look at that, you're doing so fucking amazing,” he says adjusting himself closer to my face and brushing loose strands out of my face.

“Y-you can move,” I say nodding slowly.

He smiles before slowly thrusting out and moving towards my hips as the pain I once felt turns into pleasure in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, matt fuck faster please” I plead gripping his biceps for support.

“God you're so fucking tight” his pace speeds up as he lowers his body and begins kissing my neck and groaning into me.

“S-so fucking big” I moan out.

He rolls his hips towards mine and slams them into me. His grunts become harsher. “Fuck” he growled in my ear. “I love the way you feel wrapped around me” he moans in my ear which is almost a whimper.

“Matt” I scream out as his cock finally and repeatedly kisses my G-spot.

“Someone close eh?” he lifts up sadistically grinning at me.

I nod vigorously as my legs begin twitching and shaking around his waist and that knot forms in my stomach for the second time tonight.

“Cum all over my fucking dick baby, I know you can do it,” he said as his thrusts become sloppy.

With just his words that knot snapped in my stomach and formed a white ring around the base of his cock as my cum coats his cock. With a couple more thrusts he nuzzles his head in my neck and paints my walls a shade of white. He slowly pulls out careful not to hurt me.

“Fuck you're amazing” I breath out coming down from my euphoric state.

“Yeah? You did fucking amazing,” he smiles down at me laying next to me and pulling me into a cuddled skin-to-skin hug.

“Thank you matt” I mutter into his chest.

“No problem sweetheart” he kissed the top of my head. “You know I'd do anything for you” he softly whispers making me smile and nuzzle into him more.

“Do you want me to run you a nice bath? Or you wanna go get food? What do you wanna do, cause we got about 2 hours till Nick and Chris come home” he pulls away looking at me.

“We can shower and I can cook for us” I smile at him.

“Perfect” he smiles at me and picks me up bridal style again to carry me to the bathroom.

The way he cared for me, I knew I made the right decision. Losing my virginity to the man I knew I could trust.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N pt 2: TY TO THE PERSON WHO REQUESTED THIS!! BECAUSE THIS WAS VERY FUN TO WRITE!! anyways i hope you guys are having an amazing evening, afternoon, morning, or night!! and i love you guys!! 🩷🩷

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic writing

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hello again, I hope you are having a good day. May I please request for Yandere Nanami wherein he miscalculates how long his business trip would be and he comes home to emotionally wrecked and hungry darling ( He locked them in the closest as a punishment prior) which leads to hurt comfort between the two

Nanami opened the front door and kicked off his shoes, sighing in disappointment at his timing and at how late at night he got back at. Traffic was terrible, his shoes weren't as comfortable as they were this morning, and he missed you terribly. He ran his fingers through his hair that no longer mattered now that he was indoors and put his suitcase out of sight.

He was going to call out that he was home, but reminded himself that he still had you cooped up in that shitty basement. He walked through the house and into the kitchen to finally get you a glass of water. He was only supposed to be on that business trip for around two days and be back home by the time the third day ended. The basement was very spacious, but even he had his limits in there. Which is why it was a great punishment, in his mind. He had enough of your mouth and you attempted to escape after almost sending him over the edge all in one day. But he still worried for you. There were no lights or any sense of comfort in there. At this point, he just wants you in his arms again. The thought makes his heart race in excitement. You must feel so lonely, feel so anxious, so cold, and

You freeze when you turn and see Nanami standing a few feet away from you, watching you shove your fifth slice of bread into your mouth. The two of you mirrored the same look of horror as you acknowledged one another. Nanami's face contorts into one of realization while yours continues to drop. Your stomach twists in fear at the sight of your captor finding you outside of your confinement and suddenly you feel nauseous and no longer desire any kind of elements of nutrition.

Pieces of food that weren't swallowed fall out of your mouth in fear and surprise and you scatter off to the nearest room with a lock and you slam it shut, fiddling with the lock and somehow manage to turn it with terribly shaky hands. It's hard to breath and you hyperventilate as you scoot into a corner, keeping yourself huddled.

Kento was still stuck in place, his mouth open in complete shock. You had ransacked the entire kitchen. He lets his eyes scan over everything on the ground. Almost nothing in the cabinets or fridge was left untouched, so many things left open and touched by his poor, poor girl's fingers. Juice, crackers, the bread you tore into, butter, cereal, refrigerated rice, half-eaten boxes of vegetables and fruits, uncooked noodles......it didn't end there.

The more his eyes found laying around, the heavier his heart got. This was all his fault. He didn't mean to......do this to you. Not at all. His eyes flutter shut as he rubs them, a sigh leaving his mouth. This wasn't supposed to happen. He inhaled sharply to gather more courage to step past the obvious signs of severe neglect he had done to you.

He could hear your fast-paced breathing from outside of the guest-bedroom and shakes his head in shame. He was so fucking ashamed of being so irresponsible with taking care of you. He was supposed to be your lover, your caretaker, the one you should be able to trust. But it seems like he can't even do any of those things right. He was wrong. "I'm sorry." His throat felt like it was constricting his vocals as he chokes out the apology. No kind of words or affirmations could change what he did to you and he wanted to be able to help you see that.

His face was so close to the door, as if he could speak through it into your heart. The last thing he'd do is force you into anything. He deserved to work for your trust back. "I'm so sorry, baby, please." There wasn't much he could make himself say. His ears picked up on your silent sobs and he dropped his forehead on the door, his hands on it as well. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna see you. It's been so long, hm? Since we last saw each other? I just want to hold you."

You didn't know how to feel. You just did something so very, very wrong. This is the type of behavior that gets you in the basement and a chain on your ankle for decoration. You broke out and practically flipped the kitchen upside-down. What isn't he going to do to you??? You didn't even realize yourself speaking through your tears. Constant 'leave me alone's slipped through your lips as you cried. You were so damn scared of what he'd do to you.

Outside the door, Kento shakes his head at your words and presses the side of his face to the door to hear you better. "No, no, no, no, baby. I won't hurt you, I promise. Can you please trust me just this once? I just want to make sure you're okay. You're hungry, I can tell. Just let me help you and you can get all of the food you want, okay??" Kento shakes the doorknob subconsciously, which makes you gasp in fear. Kento flinches away from it when he hears you make the sound and immediately and tells you he won't do it again.

He continues trying to verbally sooth you through the door, telling you repeatedly that it's okay. "....Everyone has limits. And I pushed you to yours." You wipe your face of your tears and push yourself to your feet.

Slowly, you hesitate, but take your quiet steps towards the door. Nanami can't hear anything on the other side. Are you okay? Why are you quiet? Are you trying to escape through the window??? It's bolted. Never mind. He's worried. "Darling?" He silently whispers. All he gets is the sound of his own breaths.

Then the loud sound of the lock clicks and he takes a step back. The door cracks open, extremely slowly. It's almost impossible to tell. You only leave enough space to look through about 1 inch to peek at him through the door. And even with that much to look at, he can tell you are so scared. He shouldn't have done this. The constant anxiety this is giving him continues to make his stomach cramp. A wobbly smile makes its way onto his face. "There she is! Can you-.....please let me take you out of that room?" He stumbles over his words, his arms awkwardly spreading out to seem as if he's friendly.

The silence you let grow only leaves room for more interpretation. You just stare at him with that stone cold eye. Almost as if you're trying to see through him. But nothing is hiding behind his face but the constant stress he's getting from stressing you out. He obviously loves you too much. He gets overprotective sometimes.

You open the door and step out and his shoulders relax as he very carefully looks over you. You used the bucket. Which was good. So, you were at least somewhat clean. You just looked.....hungry. Your face seemed slimmer, your eyes sunken in exhaustion(not that much, but he's great at details when it comes to you).

Before you could stop him, he was cleaning the kitchen and got to running you a bath and making dinner.

#yandere #yandere x reader #reader #yandere x you #yandere character #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #yandere nanami kento #yandere nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #yandere jjk nanami kento #yandere jjk #yandere jjk fluff