#there are so many places that need to be burnt down.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 7

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2k words | warnings: mentions of trauma | masterlist

Your neck is aching when you throw it back and release a loud groan. Your eyes are already burning from staring into books the whole day. Outside Velaris has already entered the night – many hours ago–, but you are still sitting here, your back sore from being bent over the books for hours. 

The orange candle on the table, the only light source in the living room of the house of wind at this point, has almost burnt down to nothing, but you need it just a few more minutes. 

You are so close, you know it. The solution is right there, you just need to grasp it.

Reaching forward, you place your hand on the onyx box, sharp nails piercing into it. With the index finger of your other hand you trail over some ancient spells written in lettering that is now longer used. The spells are most likely witches runes, you are not familiar with them, but with the help of Nesta and maybe also Amren, you will be able to open the box.

You can feel it. You can feel how the small casket reacts to your touch, to the idea of being opened. It is burning with emotion, so hot your palm heats. 

You are so close – so close to opening this damn box. And so close to freedom. You will be allowed to roam freely when this is over, no one will ever lock you away again. Once the box is open you will demand your amulet back. With it your powers will return and then you are gone. To the continent or wherever the wind takes you. 

Gone…involuntarily your thoughts wander to the shadowsinger. He is also gone. Has been gone for a few days now. Gone just like back then. When he left you behind, broken and bloody. He did not even check to see if you are alright. If your wounds are too deep. If you will survive. 

Rhysand’s words hollow in your mind, loud, strong, and you force your eyes closed, fighting against the tears. 

“My father…he threatened the other female in Azriel’s life. The only other female he would have given his life for. This was the only way to protect you both.”

All those years, you have wondered what Azriel’s reasons were. Why he betrayed you like this. Why he never came to see you. You don’t know if you will ever be able to forgive him, but what you know is that you want to give him another chance to talk. You want to hear it from him. Everything. Every little thing he has to say. You want him to talk about his mother, about how he locked you in the Prison, the moments after it, the moment when he found out what the Harp was capable of. He owes you all the explanations and you owe him your time to listen.

You shake your head, directing every thought that threatens to stray into Azriel’s direction at matter at hand again – Koschei’s onyx box. You need to open it and you are so close. You flip over to the next page, finding more cryptic lettering. Your eyes are closed when your fingers trail over the words, the runes, the pictures and you feel it. This is it. 

Jumping up, the chair scratches over the ground with a loud noise. You need to find Nesta, and you need to find her now. You really hope she is not currently otherwise occupied with a certain general of the Illyrian armies because you really need to talk to her.

Blowing out the candle, you turn swiftly and head for the corridor, running as fast as your feet can take you, your thin, silken gown swishing around your legs. You head up the stairs, towards Nesta and Cassian’s main bedroom, but stop dead in your tracks when your eyes land on him. When his moan of agony pierces through your mind. 

The door to his bathroom is open, his bloody chest exposed, large wings draped on the ground, his hands braced on the edges of the sink. 

You can’t tear your eyes away and fully on your own accord your feet start to walk, no longer moving you towards Nesta’s room, but to him. You can’t stop yourself, it is like something is pulling you to him. And you know what it is – the tug on your chest. Before his betrayal you had loved the idea of it. Then everything came crashing down, and you hated it. You have been clamping down on the feeling of it for centuries, pushing it away, but now seeing him bloody and wounded –seeing your mate bloody and wounded– fire ignites deep within your soul, the bond once more coming alive inside of you.

“Azriel.” Your voice trembles, heart squeezing at the gaping wounds marring his entire torso, dripping with blood and puss. It looks awful and painful. Your fingers curl towards your palms.

He whips his head into your direction, and with a crooked smile, he says, “It isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“Bullshit,” you answer and step into the bathroom. “You look like you have been attacked by a beast, those wounds are deep. You need a healer to look over them.” When your eyes lifts, they clash with his. 

“Don’t act like you care,” he mumbles, holding your gaze.

“You have no right to snap at me, Azriel,” you answer in a stern voice, “not after everything that has happened between us, not after everything you did to me.”

“I am sorry.”

“I know.” You close the door behind you and fully move into the room, reaching for the cloth on the sink that is no longer white, but has no a pinkish colour, stained from all the blood. You clasp it tightly in your hand, and without saying a word, attach the cloth to Azriel’s wounded skin. He sucks in a sharp intake of air, then holds his breath and lets you do your work. “I am ready to talk, Azriel.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his fingers curl around the edge of the sink, scarred knuckles turning white. “I needed time, I needed time to adapt, to understand, to progress, but I am ready to talk now.” You tip your head back and meet his hazel eyes, a flicker of hope within them now that you revealed that you are ready to talk to him. 

“Rhysand told me about your mother.”

“His father threatened to execute her. I needed to protect her, but I need you to know that I didn’t choose her over you. I was…torn. I only had a few people in my life that I loved, and risking one’s life for that of another…I only tried to–”

“Keep us both safe. I know this now.” Your hand moves lower, brushing over a wound on his lower belly that disappears behind the pants of his Illyrian leathers. 

“I was trying to get you out. I was looking for ways once all threats were gone, but…only when we found the Harp I had a solution on how to do it. I knew how I was going to get you.”

You nod slowly, and put the cloth aside. “Let’s patch you up and then we talk properly, yes?”

It is a big step you are taking, but you know you have to do it. You finally have to talk to him. Your heart is racing both with panic about being so close to the person that has hurt you most in your life, but also with relief that you can finally be near him without feeling like the air to breathe has been stolen from you. He still unnerves you, but now that you have learned more about why he acted like this, talking to him seems easier. 

You have to talk to him. For yourself. You need to know everything. Find out what really were his reasons.

“In my room?” Azriel asks in a calm voice. 

You nod again and set out to do exactly what you said – patching him up. 

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

“He showed me what he would do to her. All the cruel things. And all the cruel things he would do to you. He invaded my mind and showed it to me.” 

You find yourself nodding again, tears lining your eyes. You sit next to him on the bed, Azriel’s head resting on the pillow, close to your hips, his chest now bandaged, his body covered by the thin bed sheet. “I had no choice.”

You want to tell him that everyone always has a choice, but in this case, this was truly the only way to do it. You have been listening to him for the past hour or even longer, soft moonlight filtering in through the curtain-framed windows. It is the only lightsource, but you don’t need more. You close your eyes, your soul for the first time calm and at ease in his presence. Azriel has been talking the whole time, a rarity you think, because centuries ago when you were together he was always rather calm. 

“Did it really hurt you to put me in the Prison?”

You feel the bed shift next to you, and a moment later his scarred digits brush your hand. “What a question…” You can hear how he draws in a deep inhale and his hand closes tightly around yours. “It tore me apart. It felt like someone ripped out my heart, and tore it into pieces. Like my soul lost its life, like it was diminished and I could never ever feel happiness again. All the years, the centuries that passed, where I couldn’t free you, destroyed more parts of my soul.”

You slide down on the pillow, not letting go of his hand, until you are on eye-level with him. His head is turned to you, and he is already looking at you when you open your lids. 

“I knew the first moment I could find a way to free you, to get you out, I would do it. You were bound to the Prison by the High Lord’s magic, you couldn’t get out alone, not even if I had tried to. It was only possible through the Harp – the Dead Trove’s magic is stronger than any High Lord’s.”

You deep your chin, nodding slowly, the back of your mouth aching. “I thought you hated me, you loathed and feared me just like everyone else. That our whole relationship was a false-pretence.”

His throat bobs. “I didn’t fake a single thing – every I love you, every kiss, every hug, whenever we made love, I meant it all. And I meant when I said that I would protect you…I never meant to hurt you. To destroy you.”

You shift closer on the bed. “Do you know why your soul hurt after you put me into the Prison?”

“Because I lost the love of my life.” He pushes up on his elbows, groaning due to the wounds on his chest that have not yet healed. He shifts onto his side, now looking directly at you, but you shake your head. 

“No, Azriel,” you say, “your soul hurt because we were mates and the bond broke the moment you closed the gates to my cell.”

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @azrielsmate2 @callmeblaire @lilah-asteria

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel

[trans-axolotl]

have not left bed today + found out another friend got locked up + want to beat up every single adult that saw what was happening to me and looked away or actively made it worse

#personal #vent #suicide mention tw #i need to call her. last time we talked she said she was going to kill herself if she got incarcerated again #i love her. nothing makes me more angry at so many systems than trying to do suicide support with my friends who are locked up #trying to do this shit over the phone with people listening in. trying to figure out what meaningful support we can even give #because when she says that death is better than months of solitary i know exactly how she feels and what she means and i cannot fucking #most of the skills mainstream peer support has ever taught me are useless in that situation and my best is not enough #there are so many places that need to be burnt down. #there are so many people i love who are not out and it starts to kill me a little bit #and cops are starting to fuck with us here more. i've gotten bruised up a couple times from being shoved around #nothing too bad yet but just #jesus christ #sorry for coming on here to vent all the time but my offline life is a little crazy at the moment and half this shit i can't talk about irl #i honestly think i need to like. start learning how to fight properly again. bc i have so much anger right now #and learning how to actually fight sounds like a better idea then fucking off and getting into random fights like i used to #idk. will look into it

[buckaroosboogara]

Hi! Just wanna raise some awareness here because South America is on fucking fire and I need to see more people talking about this.

Source: RSOE EDIS x

Im just going to talk about the ones i'm closest to, but if you know about these fires, feel free to add in the reblogs!

Chile

In Chile there's (up to Feb 5) 160 wild fires, of which 40 are still trying to be controlled by authorities. The president, Gabriel Boric, has declared State of Emergency in the whole country, and theres a Red Alert Code in most part of the country.

Isla de Chiloé, Southern Chile (900 km away from Santiago de Chile)

This is a (recently controlled) fire that lasted a week, but many neighborhoods were burnt to the ground.

The whole South is in red alert for constant sudden fires that spread quickly due to the lack of rain and the elevated temperatues in the zone. Just today, two fires had to be controlled in the main land next to this island, and more are being reported in the Los Lagos region. This is added to the "controlled" intentional fires that farmers make to clean their fields of old crops along the Central-South parts of the country, mostly surrunding the main route, Ruta 5, that connects the whole country, thus making it hard to see and breathe because of the smoke. (flashnews, most of them get out of control quickly.)

Valparaiso/Viña del Mar, Central Chile (100 km away from Santiago de Chile)

A fire that started on Friday 2nd and grew exponentially because of the wind and the dry, hot climate. More than 100 people are dead, with 70 unrecognized bodies and other 400 that have dissapeared. At least 30000 people that have lost everything to the fire.

There's massive evacuations from this and the neighboring city, Viña Del Mar.

This is said to be the second most deadly fire in the century, surpased by Australia in 2009.

45000+ hectares that include land and neighborhoods have been burnt down.

I could go on about this one, so more info here and here

Argentina

Parque Los Alerces (Esquel), Chubut

The fire strarted on the 25th January, and the climate has made it hard to contain. 3000 hectares of native forest have been burnt to teh ground. It is now growing in the direction of the nearest city, Esquel. Theres been evacuations between yesterday and today (4 and 5th Febuary)

Parque Nahuel Huapi (Bariloche), Río Negro

The reason why im writing this. The city woke up today covered in smoke after a wildfire developed yesterday during the night. The reason? A fireplace that was not turned off in a place where people cannot disembark and can only be reached via boats.

As of now, there's not much information about the fire but hopefully the firefighters will be able to contain it before it reaches Tronador Mountain, where an ancient glaciar is.

...which leads me to the other point i wanted to talk about.

Firefighters

They volunteer to do this job.

In Argentina and Chile, firefighting is not rewarded with a salary, and most of the times they dont even have full firehouses to stay in. These people are at their houses, ready to jump into action and run to the station the second the alarm goes off.

They are neighbors, people that risk their lives and run into danger willingly, just because they want to help the community.

I felt the need to give a shout-out to these people and say:

Don't be a fucking dick, don't start fires in the woods unless it's an approved place, and if you do, TURN IT OFF.

Pour abundant water on it, and do not stop when you don't see any more flames.

Keep pouring water until the ashes don't burn/feel like room temperature in your hand if you put it 10 cm away from it, and even then, pour some more just to be sure.

No heat and no smoke mean a safely extinguished fire.

Save lives and forests.

#dont even get me started on the denial of climate change from my president #didnt wanna get political here #argentina #chile #argieposting #argieblr #soff speaks #wildfires

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | sorry, baby

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 4k words. Joel is stressed and busy with a big project at work lately. His pretty little wife makes it all better. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, sub/dom relationship, free use kink, oral sex (m receiving), cock worship (!! yes), unprotected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, pet names for reader, sir kink making a reappearance, bit of fluff mixed in, mention of food/eating, @ GOD WHY ISNT THIS ME a/n: I'M BACK. these two sick lovebirds are back 😭 i needed something sweet to write while working on smother so here's some cute domestic sucking and fucking from my favorite couple MWAH reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!

Gonna be late again. Sorry baby.

Joel’s hurried text had pinged your phone a few hours ago, and you reassured him it was no problem, of course. You know that his company is contracting on a huge project in downtown Austin right now, and it required a lot of Joel’s attention. He’d been giving so much you were surprised that he had anything left in the tank when he came home to you. But by god, so many nights he sure did, coming home in a frenzy to fuck you, taste you, finding you where you were when he arrived home - cleaning up dishes from dinner, the shower, already curled up in bed with a book on one particularly late night.

You relished in him releasing everything into you - the stress of his day instantly melting with a simple touch of his lips to yours, drinking in your curves and soft skin with rough hands and frenzied yet controlled movements. It always seemed like the more stressed he was, the more he couldn’t get his cock in you fast enough, the more relentless he was in the ways he took care of you. He’d leave you spent, dripping, and aching, letting you talk softly about your day as he stroked your hair afterwards, all sweetness and hushed tones until you two fell asleep.

You peer into the living room from the kitchen to see Joel walking in, looking generally askew and you frown. When his shoes are yanked off and placed in the closet he looks up to see you leaning on the doorframe, lips full and pouting, finger sticking up with a patch of cookie dough stuck to it to taste test. You stand in a long, threadbare t-shirt of his and pink cotton panties, just what Joel had set out for you this morning, and he makes sure to thank his past self for such a wise choice this morning. You’d laughed at the lack of bra or any kind of pants, knowing it was no accident you’d ended up dressed without any bottoms on today. You aim to please, and the look Joel gives you whenever he sees you exactly how he envisioned you for the day always makes your heart soar a little higher. 

He finds his way to the couch, sprawling out and giving you an exhausted look. You stick the errant finger into your mouth, sucking the sweet, sugary cookie dough off and licking your lips. Joel’s expression changes quickly, his interest clearly sparked, but the wearisome look doesn’t leave his eyes. 

“Baby?” you ask, your brows furrowing further with worry. This wasn’t your husband, this wasn’t Joel, and you always hate to see him have a tough day. It makes your heart ache when he works too hard, gives too much of himself and winds up burnt out. You certainly don’t mind making it all better for him, that’s what you’re here for, after all, but it pains you nonetheless.

“C’mon over here, little wife,” Joel murmurs, running a hand down his weary face. When he pulls it away, he gazes at you with heavy lids before propping his hands behind his head. 

You saunter over to him, standing next to where he lays and reaching down to graze your fingers over his stretched bicep, trailing it inwards towards his face. He hums, fluttering his eyes closed for a brief moment and enjoying the way your gentle fingers work across his cheekbones and through his beard. 

His hand slowly moves from behind his head to curve around your waist, drawing you nearer, the front of your knees hitting the side of the couch cushions now. His silent signals are obvious to you at this point, so you don’t waste a moment swinging your leg around his body, tucking it in between his thigh and the back of the couch, settling in to straddle him. A hand runs gently down his chest as you tilt your head, studying his face in concern. 

“What’s my husband need from me?” you ask quietly, letting your other hand bury itself in his curls, scratching at his scalp. 

Joel lets out a pleasured groan, nearly shuddering at the feeling. “Fuck, baby.” You feel his body shift underneath you, already squirming with the sensation of your fingers doing their work on him. “Make me feel good.” 

“Let’s get you more comfortable, then,” you coo, fingers already moving on the buttons of his shirt, making quick work of the top few to let his chest breathe a little bit. You take only a beat to admire the top of his chest poking out, curls of hair sticking out wild and messy before getting to work. You slither down his body, giving yourself enough room to undo his belt before pulling it out of its loops and tossing it aside. 

“Lift, please,” you say, keeping up your gentle, soothing tone as Joel’s hips lift off the couch and allow you the space to pull down his dress pants, wriggling them down to his ankles and then over his feet. “Now that’s better, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” Joel answers, a pleasant little hum from the back of his throat. You can feel how your ministrations have already gotten him hard as it brushes against your center when you settle back on top of his hips. A brief tease of your hips swirling on his sends Joel’s twitching, a sly little smile flashing on his lips. But you’re gone an instant later, moving down the couch and settling next to his feet, sitting crossed legged to face them before taking one into your lap. 

“What’s this, now?” Joel asks, a slight tiredness to his voice now. 

“Ever heard of a foot rub?” you reply with a lifted brow. He chuckles and you watch his body rumble with the sound. 

“Givin’ me mouth today, are we?” he asks playfully, the tired laughter still fading off as he speaks. 

“I could,” you retort, pursing your lips and looking up from his feet to find his eyes peeking open, looking down at your delicate, innocuous smile with a plethora of hidden meaning behind it. 

“Such a dirty girl…” he murmurs, neatly cut off by the groan he lets out when you press in on one of his arches with your thumb.

“See? I know what you need, baby,” you coo, working your fingers into the tender spots on his foot, being sure to use just the right amount of pressure. You prop his foot in your lap, letting it hang there as you gently rotate his ankle, loosening everything up. 

“Christ,” he breathes out as you start on the other foot. His breathing is a little labored, pain and pleasure mixing together as you continue to help his weary soles. You work each foot until he sighs contentedly, a good sign that your work is finished. 

At least on his feet, that is. You run your hands teasingly up his thighs, settling them on his hips as you work your way back up his body, hips straddling his again. You lean down and brush your lips against his neck, peering up to watch Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he sighs again. The sound is music to your ears, anytime your husband makes that content, soft little sound you think you’ve reached heaven. You suck and flick little patches all over his neck, starting a slow, steady grind of your hips. 

“Oh, pretty girl,” Joel starts, landing a firm hand along your hip. “I can’t today… I’m so fuckin’ beat. You know I’d give anything to fuck my cock into you…” He murmurs the words with a hint of frustration. You know this is hitting Joel harder than he’s letting on, seeing as his singularly focused task most days is to find a way to get himself inside of you.

“Who said anything about you fucking me?” you ask slyly, hands hooking into the sides of his briefs. You watch as Joel’s eyes pop open and look at you mischievously. “You said to make you feel good, so that’s what I’m doing, my darling.” You keep your tone even and calming as you continue with your teasing, deft fingers playing under his waistband. 

Joel’s smirk grows and he reaches a hand up to gently pet the back of your head before pulling you to his face, kissing you deeply. “Good girl,” he says as he pulls away, the words falling right onto your own lips. “Doin’ as you’re told.”

You slink lower, getting to the spot you know excites him the most, straddling lower on his legs to bring your mouth down to his clothed cock. You plant small kisses along the obvious bulge and Joel reacts immediately with a small hiss through his teeth. You kiss and lick and suck, letting the fabric tamp enough of the pleasure to drive him crazy. 

“God damn it…” he grunts quietly, hips shifting as they spasm up towards your mouth when you suck another spot on the fabric, taking your sweet time, only a small form of torture for Joel. “You tryna make me ask you to pull my cock out and get your pretty mouth on it? Cause you know, once I’m not dead on m’feet I might have to punish you ‘f that’s the case.” His words tumble out slow and thick with his accent - that Southern drawl always comes out more when he’s tired and mumbling.

Your mouth curls deviously and you lick your lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply in a low lilt. 

“Mhm…” Joel teases, but you heed his warning anyhow, tugging his briefs down to free his cock, nearly enraged as it throbs and drips precum from the way you’d already been working on it. Your tongue finds the salty fluid at his head, lapping it with just the tip of your tongue and swirling it around. You start to practically nuzzle it, catching his cock in the corners of your lips, letting your tongue get a few tiny kitten licks on his shaft as you rub it along your cheeks. The smooth skin glides along your face and you start to get messier with it, letting his cock start to spread his precum and your saliva along your cheeks as you let the flat of your tongue run along it.

Joel lets out a loud, long groan, fingers gripping deep into the couch cushion. He can barely contain himself as your tongue licks a thick stripe up underneath his length, tracing the most prominent vein. His hips stutter forward as he gives himself to the moment. 

“God damn, honey…” he whimpers quietly, eyes shutting in the bliss of the moment.

Your hands rub his thighs gently, kneading into them as you start to bob your head on his cock, taking a little more each time until he’s at the back of your throat. You fight the urge to gag, a little noise coming out of you, sending Joel’s hand flying to the back of your head, his gaze watching the way his cock disappears inside of your warm mouth.

“That’s it, choke on it like I like, pretty girl…” Joel mumbles, eyes rolling back a little as his cock fills your mouth. “My pretty wife…” he whispers with a reverence and respect, despite the degrading way he’s about to fuck your mouth.

You move with a little more urgency, your mouth stuffed and aching already, one hand coming up to grip the base of Joel’s cock and stroking there while your mouth works on him. Joel’s hand pushes down on your head, sending you a little further and you sputter, spit flying all around his cock and lap but it doesn’t deter you. His hips start to move of their own accord into you, matching the rhythm of your mouth pumping on him. Your body gets hot and desperate for him, your praise loving nature alight just by seeing how much he loves the way you pleasure him. Your thighs wriggle as your cunt aches and drips now, begging you for relief that you know will have to wait.

“God, fuck,” he cries out, “Needed this…” Joel seems to be practically revived, a new energy filling his weary body as he grunts and pants, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth in faster strokes now. You can sense how close he is, you know your husband’s body like the back of your hand now, his balls tightening and cock getting even harder on your tongue.

He grunts with the effort of sitting forward, yanking your head off of his cock and swiftly sliding his hands to your waist, hauling your entire body upwards so that your hips are above his. 

“Need this needy little cunt, look how soaked you are,” Joel coos with a genuine pity for you as he sees the wet stain on your panties.. His fingers tear your underwear to the side, giving enough room for his cock to position itself at your weeping entrance, giving you no time to even process it before he forces your hips to bear down on him.

You cry out in a long, wanting moan as he fills you up, the stretch of him burning in that familiar way that you love and crave so much. Joel is an addiction - your husband the one thing in life you could never get enough of, never filling you enough, never fucking you full and deep enough times that you’re fulfilled. He never fails to leave you satisfied, of course, but you’re always wanting more in the next moment, practically wishing you could live just like this - his cock stuffing you and stretching your pussy to its limits, sending that pain you live for deep inside of you until it turns to the most blinding pleasure. Gratitude overtakes you as you sink down completely, whispering out a fervent thank you as you feel yourself clench around him, eyes shut and head thrown back. Joel reaches to your chin, pulling your head to look down at him. 

“What was that?” he asks teasingly, rutting his hips up into your as he speaks. You shudder again, pussy clenching around him as you feel his length pressing against your walls.

“T-thank you,” you breathe out. “Thank you, sir…” You’re unable to say anything else, only look at him with half-lidded eyes and cry out wantonly when he pushes all the way in again, seating himself inside of you only to lift your hips up and do it all over again.

“Yeah… knew bein’ stuffed full of my cock would make you my polite girl again,” Joel says arrogantly, sending a fresh wave of arousal right between your legs, gushing around his girth. You nod, blinking down at him, rolling your hips and chasing your pleasure. You lean down a little closer to Joel, bringing your chest more flush with his, the change in angle devastating the both of you. 

“So fuckin’ full of me,” Joel whispers in your ear, taking it upon himself to bend his legs and start fucking up into you. You moan in his ear, tears springing to your eyes as you feel him close to your cervix, each deep thrust sinfully delicious and bordering on painful in the way that makes your skin tingle in the best way. You want to be used, you want him as deep as he can possibly go, to feel you entirely wrapped around him.

Joel grunts, hot breath fanning next to your ear as he holds you close. Your bodies are intermingling with sweat now, your ass slapping down onto his thighs reverberating through the quiet living room. It’s just this - the two of you, your shared breath, your intertwined bodies, nothing else matters or even registers to you now. Joel’s hips shift the slightest bit in angle and you cry out, your g-spot now overstimulated with attention as Joel’s cock pounds into you harder, brushing the spongy spot with each new movement into you.

You pant, clutching onto him and digging your manicured nails into his shoulder, scratching them along to his neck where you hang on for dear life.

“Fuck…” you murmur, feeling your body tensing, legs like jello as they shake on either side of Joel’s thighs. “Let me come, p-please, sir,” you whimper, holding back with every ounce of strength you have as the tingling warmth spreads, heat in your belly threatening to burst at any second.

“Hang on f’me, baby, fuck, n-not yet,” Joel replies in a huff, clearly close to that high himself. “Wanna fill you up right when you’re comin’ so pretty f’me.”

You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, holding back as your body screams at you with need. This wasn’t the first time Joel had you hold back your climax, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it never got any easier. You whimper, nearing a sob as Joel thrusts into you, your hips rolling and stuttering into his movements. “Please… sir…” you cry.

Joel grunts out a stern no and continues to slam his hips into yours, growing harsher by the second. You’re a whimpering wreck, your body nearly about to betray you as Joel hits your g-spot again. Tears leak from your eyes with the psychological effort of holding back, but you know it’ll be worth it. It always is.

“Now,” Joel says simply, “Come for me, little doll,” he adds, finishing the sentence with a grunt as you start to lose control, feeling like a dam inside of you is bursting, all the pleasure rolling over you in dazzling waves. You flutter around Joel’s cock almost as hard as you ever have, squeezing his length as he lets out a small whimper himself. Your breathy moans right in his ear send goosebumps along his whole body despite how stifling the air is surrounding you two.

“Fuck…” he moans, his hips jerking a few times before he starts to spill himself into you. You continue to shake, pulling every last drop from him as you ride out your own high, Joel’s name rolling off your tongue as you moan.

“God, yeah…” you whimper out, finally collapsing onto Joel’s chest as his legs go limp underneath you. You both lay in silence, chests heaving and small smiles on your faces. Joel strokes the back of your head and your smile grows. Neither of you seem set on moving, the combination of both of your climaxes a slick mess between the two of you as you settle into a more steady rhythm of breathing.

“Mmm…” Joel mumbles out the noise. “How’s my pretty little wife today, hm?” he asks quietly, fingers tracing down your cheeks to your lips.

“You’re late to ask,” you tease him with a laugh, typically hearing that question before anything else when he gets home. He uses his free hand to squeeze your ass cheek in warning at your bratiness and you grin. “But better now,” you answer in the familiar response to your favorite question from him.

“Thought so,” Joel says wryly, giving you ass a lazy pat before kissing the side of your head. He’s quiet for a few moments before lifting your hips off of his, your body immediately missing the sweet fullness of him as you both sit up. Joel brings your legs over his and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling like the most natural fit in the world. 

“‘M sorry about all this, baby - all the late nights and bein’ stressed and probably bein’ a grouch,” Joel says, his voice laden with guilt. He circles on your bare thigh with his fingers and you shudder a little, snuggling further into him. One of your hands wraps around his cheek, turning his head to meet your eye line and you give him a soft smile.

“You think you just now started being a grouch?” you joke, knowing you’re pushing your limits on how much bratiness Joel will tolerate in one day before things escalate.

He growls deep in his throat and you giggle softly, scratching your fingers through his hair. “Thin ice, baby…” he murmurs.

“I love my grumpy husband,” you say sweetly, fingers moving down to run through his rough beard. “It’s okay though, Joel. Promise. I just miss you, but this busy and crazy time will pass like it always does, right? In the mean time...” you lower your voice, a finger trailing from his cheek to his neck and down his chest. “We can just do that anytime you need it.” 

Joel chuckles, giving your entire body a squeeze against him. “That’s my good girl. Always ready f’me.” You smile into his chest at his praise before he continues. “We’ll do somethin’ this weekend, the two of us an’ spend some time together, mkay? Make up for all this bullshit.”

You feel your heart squeeze inside your chest and your stomach flutter a little at the idea. Joel has typically been pretty good about planning dates over the years, but you know that it’s been hard with his extra workload lately, so you’ve been missing the romantic evenings he’d plan for you two. You’d tried to ask about planning one yourself, and Joel shut you down immediately in the sweetest way possible, claiming the responsibility fully for himself to do that for you.

“Ooh, yes please,” you reply excitedly, hugging him close.  

“‘S a date then,” Joel confirms, leaning his head back onto the couch while you stay resting on his shoulder. You both fall into a comfortable quiet again, Joel’s breathing steadying as he dozes off. 

“Do you want a cookie?” you ask into the silence, sitting up. Joel’s eyes creak open from where he’d been resting them and he glances down at you with furrowed brows. 

“That s’posed to be some kind of euphemism, darlin’?” he asks groggily. You laugh, throwing your head back a little and shuffling yourself to sit up on the edge of the couch. 

“Could be,” you giggle, “Real cookies this time, though. You can even sneak one before dinner.” 

Joel perks up a little, eyes opening a bit more. “Chocolate chip?” he asks, a boyish glint in his gaze. 

“Of course,” you nod, and Joel smiles tiredly, sitting up to join you on the edge of the couch. 

“You know you’re the best wife?” Joel says, nudging you with his shoulder and leaning over for a quick peck on your cheek before standing up and pulling his pants back on. He moans and groans while he twists his back and stretches his arms over his head for a few moments, and you know his knees must be flaring up as they do when he’s more stressed.

“Just one,” you warn Joel as you see him making his way to the kitchen trying to look like some kind of master sleuther on the hunt for fresh baked cookies. “I’m making dinner soon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel tosses over his shoulder at you before disappearing around the corner. When you make your way to the kitchen, you watch him take a bite off of a cookie from the cooling rack and you stand with crossed arms, admiring him. His eyes look you up and down with a similar appreciation, landing between your legs where he sees your underwear completely soaked and stained from your recent rendezvous. He smirks as he chews, stepping towards you. 

“An’ don’t you dare think about changing your underwear,” he says in a low rumble, eyes flicking all over your face as he gets close to read if you’re going to keep up your bratty streak today. Instead, you give him a docile little upturn of your lips - he’s been through enough today - and brush past him to start working on dinner. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#sorry for the wait i know its been ages #fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #x reader #the last of us fanfiction

[dotster001]

Can I request overblot crew + malmal (idk if he's gonna be the one who does it so) w a mc who has the uncontrollable impulse to just. Touch things they deem pretty/cute/whatever? Like malmals horns, leonas ears and tail, idias hair, jamils little coin things in his hair, vils crown, etc?

Or funnier, things they're supposed to not touch bc common sense? Like the boiling hot liquid in the alchemy cauldron, the fireplace, broken glass, basically anything someone would have to rip their hands away from lol

A/N: I did a mix of things. As someone who wants to put dungeons and dragons dice right into my mouth, I had a lot of fun with this one 😂 I want to put my hands in jamil and Azul's hair so bad 😭

CW: injury in Azul and Idia's parts, self inflicted, cause obviously 😂

3k follower masterlist

No one was allowed to touch the roses. Well, no one but you. You like to run your fingers on the petals, tracing any visible veins, touching paint spots, and booping him on the nose if the rose hasn't dried yet.

So sweet, so soft, so innocent. He only wished that…

"Fuck!"

No matter how many times he reminded you not to, you always poked the thorns.

"Y/N," he said sternly, "the entire point of thorns on roses is that they hurt.  They are intended to protect the rose!"

"But if not for touch, why touch shaped?" You pouted.

"Sorry?"

You sighed, and stared at the rose with a sharp glare, before turning back to him with a mischievous grin. 

"If I can't play with the roses, can I play with your scepter staff thing?"

He should have known. You'd been asking to "play with it" for weeks now. And every time he'd clutched it tighter, and taken a step back. He loved you! But he didn't trust whatever it was you wanted to do with his staff.

"Please, my rose?" You gently traced the collar of his dorm uniform, pressing your free hand to his chest and  giving him the sweetest puppy dog eyes.

He sighed, and placed his scepter in your hand, and was given immediate whiplash as you started swinging it through the air like a baseball bat.

"What are you doing?!?"

"Fighting crime!"

He felt a ticklish feeling in his half awake state. Assuming it was a fly of some sort, he flicked his ears, and attempted to drift back off. But the ticklish feeling was insistent. He opened one eye to see you scratching his ears. He groaned. He should have known. This was a common occurrence.

"Oy, Herbivore!"

Your eyes widened, and flickered to his.

"Oh! You're awake!"

"Yeah, cause there's a fly buzzing by my ear."

You looked down at your hands then pulled them away.

"Oh, sorry."

You reached out to fiddle with one of his braids, your fingers doing what he could only describe as kneading the plaits.

He gripped your wrist, and pulled you down to his level, pressing you into his chest.

"If you're gonna mess with my hair, then, quid pro quo, you should expect there to be a price."

You nuzzled into his chest and nodded, your hand snaking back into his hair as he drifted off to your gentle fingers.

This was exactly why he had the Leech twins watch you. You always complained you didn't need a babysitter, but when left to your own devices…

"As your partner, I shouldn't have to sign a contract or pay a price for a healing potion!" You cried, clutching your burnt hand.

What had you done?

You'd touched a stove seconds after the burner was turned off.

Call it stupid curiosity.

"If there's no price, how can I ensure you won't keep making these decisions!" Azul cried, finishing the final touches of the contract he was writing.

"Decision implies I thought about it. I can't stress enough that there was no thought involved."

He glared at you, before pushing the contract over to you.

"Sign it, and I'll fix your hand."

"My hand hurts too much," you whined.

"Your non-dominant hand is the one you burned. Sign it."

You looked at the fine print before grimacing.

"This says I can't touch anything if it's an impulse touch. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"That means I can't just touch your hair anymore? I can't just come up and kiss you anymore?"

Azul groaned a massaged his temples. 

"This is a punishment. You get those privileges back in two weeks. Sign the damn contract."

You intended to glare at him, but a wave of pain hit your hand and you quickly signed it in shaky script.

"There," he pulled out a potion and gently took your hand. "Hopefully you learn something."

"I probably won't," you muttered bitterly.

"I know," he lamented.

His heart couldn't handle it. Even asking you out had nearly sent him into the recesses of his hood for eternity. 

But ever since then, whenever you got the chance, your hands were in his hair. Usually playing with the gold medallions in his hair. But if he happened to have worn his hair down that day….oh sevens.

You'd somehow snuck up on him, and snuck your way into his lap, cupping his face and running your hands through his hair.

You were technically looking at his face, but he knew you weren't actually seeing him. You were seeing his hair.

"Y/N," he muttered, feeling his face burn, "I have to finish this homework."

"Mhmm," you muttered, as dazed as if he'd charmed you.

"Y/N!" He whines, unable to stop himself from leaning into your touch, just a little.

"Mhmm," you hummed, before unexpectedly pressing his face to your chest to allow yourself more space to play with his long hair.

He thought about speaking up. But you couldn't see his increasingly flustered expression with his face pressed to your chest. And you were warm and comforting. And your hands in his hair didn't feel too bad. Maybe he could indulge. Just for a moment.

Crash

Vil groaned, and left the bathroom he'd been doing his makeup in, watching you stare at a shattered bottle. Was it potion, perfume, or lotion? Even you probably didn't know. You just saw a shiny, pretty bottle, and had to touch.

"I'll pay for it!" You shouted, eyes wide with fear.

He sighed, flicked his pen at the broom he'd bought not long after dating you, and watched as it magically swept up the pink shards and goop on the floor.

He then half heartedly glared at you, lazily pointing his pen in your direction.

"Don't touch another one."

You aggressively nodded, and he returned to the bathroom to finish his look.

Ten minutes later, he heard it.

Crash

He covered his mouth to hide his quiet laughter. He truly couldn't leave you alone for ten minutes. It was endearing truly. He heard the broom fall as you, he assumed, hastily moved to sweep it up, and he couldn't hold back anymore, allowing himself to release a full, joyous laugh.

"Hold that," Idia said excitedly as he passed you the scissors he'd just been using. His new game system was here! And he'd bundled it so that it came with Star Rogue 2, which had only just come out! 

He slowly pulled it out of the box, holding his breath from excitement, and,

"Fuck!" 

He turned to look at you, and your thumb was in your mouth.

"What's wrong?" 

You pulled your thumb out, showing a cut on the finger pad. 

"Ortho!" Idia called in a panic, holding your hand and staring at the cut. In his panic, he stuck your thumb in his own mouth.

"Ew, Idia," you said, face full of disgust at your boyfriend's spit on your hand.

Ortho came over before he could respond, and pulled your hand from Idia's mouth. He immediately got to work on the cut, seeming to have been aware of the problem immediately.

"How did you do this?" Idia asked, rocking back and forth to get rid of his nervous energy.

You looked up at Ortho, then back at Idia, then back to Ortho.

"I'm embarrassed to say it when Ortho is here. He'll just give me a speech."

"I only give speeches when you need them!" Ortho said defensively.

"Which is everytime," you muttered bitterly.

"Y/N, please, I'm scared. Tell me what happened!" Idia cried, beginning to pace as Ortho wrapped a bandage around your thumb.

You stared at the floor. "Well, you handed me the scissors, and I was curious how sharp they are, so…"

Idia groaned, and Ortho immediately began his speech about scissors.

Malleus knew he was tall, especially compared to humans. So he'd never thought much about how insistently stared up at him, eyes full of expectation.

It wasn't until he watched your cat creature's eyes do the same thing as he tied a shoelace, one day, that he realized that you wanted something. And it wasn't hard to figure out what it was.

"Are you looking at my horns? If you're so curious, you can touch them freely. But only if you are ready to see what will happen afterwards."

Little did he know that he had stumbled upon a rare breed of human, one that was unafraid of him, but to an unrealistic extent.

It was visible today, while you were on a walk together, and then you stopped walking. He paused to look back at you, but it was too late. You were climbing his body like a koala, all to reach his horns.

"If you simply asked me, I would let you touch them."

"So shiny! Must touch!"

He laughed lightly as you reached his horns, and heard you attempt to knock against them. They didn't have feeling, but he could guess from previous times this had happened that you were poking the points with a finger and running your hands up and down them.

He felt a pull on his head as your lower half lost its grip, and you helplessly dangled while holding his horns.

"Oh, my silly child of man," he laughed. "What am I going to do with you?" He flicked his pen and helped you float down, then turned to you. You were sitting in the grass and pouting.

"I wasn't done," you muttered.

He knelt in the grass with you, then lay his head on your lap, laughing again as you excitedly traced his horns, allowing himself to relax under your care.

#3k followers #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia

[finniestoncrane]

Pleaseeeee can I have a softer Cooper who worries a lot about his girlfriend having to deal with people looking at them weird all the time, but who would be happy to yell "THIS IS MY MAN!" to anyone who would listen?

Willingly

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.5k i am already on the soft cooper train oh no lmaooooo just a little bit of soft boyfriend cooper, or as soft as i imagine he can get, being defended by his partner 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: guns, blood, violence, good old fashioned trope fic!

Cooper struggled against your gentle grip, his gloved hand pulling away from yours, fingers no longer entwined with yours. You looked to him, noticing he was avoiding your inquisitive gaze, and then noticed the crudely painted sign on the wall ahead of you. The gates to the nearest settlement were just ahead of you. Your last stop before you headed on to the next job.

“What? Are you embarrassed to walk in here holding my hand, Coop?”

His easy, charming smile seemed a little off as he spoke to you, still looking straight ahead.

“You kiddin’? Darlin’, this is for your benefit. Not many settlements are alright with folks like me at the best of times, but with you on my arm? We’d both be in danger, and I can’t keep spendin’ all my time savin’ you.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“I can hold my own. You know that.”

There was no response, but you knew better than to keep fighting your corner in this particular arena. So instead, you sighed, placing your hands which now felt so incredibly cold and empty, back into your pockets to keep them from mindedly grabbing Cooper’s hands again. You couldn’t be too annoyed. For someone as stoic and cold as he could be, the fact he tolerated holding your hand at all was a pleasant enough gesture. But his willingness to offer up any form of physical affection dwindled completed when there was a risk of running into people. He became reserved, quiet, well-behaved almost. It was something you hadn’t expected from him, to be shy or to allow someone else’s opinions to hold him back. And admittedly, a lot of the time, you had worried that it was because he didn’t want to be seen with you. But you knew it was the other way around in his mind. He was afraid of how people would look at you.

As though he could hear your thoughts, knowing you well enough after all this time together, Cooper spoke finally as you sidled up to the gates.

“You wake up to this face smiling. You call me handsome. You say I’m charming. Good lookin’ I might be in your books, but there ain’t a lot of charm left in these old bones, sweetheart. I couldn’t talk my way out of an argument, and since you keep remindin’ me that I’m not allowed to cause problems everywhere we go…”

He tapped his thumb against the barrel of his holstered gun.

“… Then I just better not give anyone any more reason not to like me.”

“Well, I like you, Coop.”

“And I will forever question your judgement on that, kid.”

Smiling, you both passed through the open gate of the settlement and separated with a nod to get the supplies you needed. Quicker, and safer, to go separately. But still, you kept your head down, Cooper with his ragged mask up and his hat brim tipped to cover as much of his face as possible. Quiet, subtle, nondescript.

It didn’t stop them though, three of them. Pointing towards you, setting their beer bottles down on the stained and rusting bar top as they rushed to follow you.

“Hey! Hello there, pretty lady! You all alone?”

Turning, you spotted the colour of the uniform first, immediately recognising that you had made a mistake in even acknowledging them. That telltale burnt orange jumpsuit. The arrogance in their smug smiles. The Brother of Steel.

“No. I’m not alone.”

“Sure looks like you are… you know, maybe you could come on over and we’ll by you a cola?”

They laughed amongst themselves as you walked on. That one answer and a quick disappearing act was all you were willing to give them, turning quickly back and trying to lose them in the crowd as they slapped each other’s backs and spat to the ground.

And you thought you had been successful. You found a trader with everything you needed on your list before you returned to wait just beyond the gate for Cooper, no further interruptions to your day from the louts at the bar. But the entire interaction had out you on edge, so much so that when Cooper appeared behind you, leaning in without you noticing to whisper in your ear, you jumped out of your skin. Luckily, he was quick, and managed to grab your wrist before your fist struck the side of his face.

“Jumpy, aren’t you? Maybe you don’t think I’m so handsome after all.”

His wink made you blush, it always did, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning like a fool.

“You surprised me is all, smartass.”

Cooper smiled, tightening the grip on your wrist and pulling you closer to him. You feigned some resistance, pretending to put up a fight against his grin, his charms, his strength. But you were following his pull, your lips almost touching his before the blow was landed.

Cooper’s body was knocked completely off balance, his body falling to the ground in a cloud of dust. Turning in the direction he was hit from, you found yourself staring down the three members of the Brotherhood from the market. Holding back some of the choice words you had for them, you managed to narrow it down to one question simple enough for even them to answer.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Shocked by your ungrateful attitude, one of the men, the largest of the three, stepped forward and pushing your shoulder with his finger.

“We’re saving you from assault, lady! This monster had its hands all over you, but don’t worry, we’ll take care of it. And you’re welcome.”

You scoffed, face going red with rage as you knelt to help Cooper up.

“You’re not saving me, asshole! You’re ruining the fucking vibe, you dweebs.”

Again, a far more polite term than you had wanted to use, but that didn’t seem to make the men any less aggressive towards either Cooper or now you. The largest of the men grabbed your arm, pulling you back up and away from the hand that Cooper had held out to you.

“Oh… you’re one of those freaks! No wonder you turned down some good old-fashioned heroes like us then.”

One of the others nudged you to the side, the other pushing Cooper back down to the ground with a kick, turning around as all of them converged on you until your back was against the wall. Nowhere to go. Trapped by them as they made their disgusting comments.

“Why would you waste your time on some abomination like that, huh? You into freaky stuff? Cos I could sure show you a thing or two. What’s he got? Like two cocks or something weird like that?”

You spat out your retort, well aware of the repercussions, but not caring.

“He could be feral and I’d still let him touch me before I even thought about letting any of you near me.”

Bracing for impact, you squeezed your eyelids shut, opening them again moments later when you realised you hadn’t been hit yet. Instead, all three of the Knights were on the ground, Cooper kneeling over them as he tightened the lasso and added the long length around their wrists for measure.

“Oughta keep ‘em long enough for us to make our escape, hm?”

You nodded, smiling, surprised still at how effective he was at handling anything the Wasteland threw at him.

“And I did it all without too much violence and noise, like you asked.”

“My hero.”

You swooned playfully, watching him as he made his way to stand beside you, both of you looking down without an ounce of pity at the men who writhed before you in the dirt.

“And look at you, shouting all those kind words about me for anyone to hear.”

“I keep telling you, Coop. I can hold my own, and I don’t care what people think.”

“You sure about that, darlin’? The likes of these fellas don’t put you off none?”

His eyes darted towards the Knights, now trussed up and struggling against each other on the ground, straining their necks to move their heads out of the line of Cooper’s gun.

“What? You think I’m put off by the Brotherhood? Yeah… and the rads put me off stuffing tin after tin of delicious cram down my throat.”

Cooper grabbed your hand in his, initiating the contact for the first time, and pulled you away back onto the cracked road. He knew he’d let go before you hit the next settlement, but he felt a little bit better about the risks associated. Especially since he had to admit, you could hold your own. And you were determined to do so when it came to him. It was nice to feel like he could let the affection be reciprocated.

#fallout #fallout amazon #x reader #finnie writes #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard smut #cooper howard imagine #fallout tv #fallout tv series #walton goggins #cooper howard x fem!reader

[goddessofwisdom-7]

I Gotcha.

Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

Description: three times you promised Luke that you got him. The two times he struggled to believe and finally when he did.

A/N: the gif is not mine, credits to the owner.

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

The days spent at camp immediately after his failed quest were arguably the worst of Luke's entire life.

He had to drag himself back home with a burnt chunk of an apple, a dragon tooth and half his face destroyed.

You had nursed him back to health. Spending three days straight in the infirmary. The solo quest was a bad idea and you had known it. Luke had gone alone in some sort of attempt to prove himself, seeking glory but now this entire thing had backfired and you couldn't help but worry.

When he awoke he had stared in mute horror at the mirror you held up to his face.

"I tried to minimise the scarring as much as I could, Luke. I couldn't remove it entirely but with the correct balm and scar creams it'll fade," you had explained.

Luke knew you were the best the camp infirmary had but he couldn't explain the rage that boiled within him. This fruitless quest, with its dumb replication to Heracles' and his quest all for the sake of earning his father's attention had permanently marred him.

Physical proof of his father's neglect right there for everyone to witness.

And he would have to carry this stupid scar for the rest of his life.

"Luke?"

His gaze snapped to meet yours, softening slightly, as you placed the mirror facedown on his bedside table.

"Yeah?"

He didn't want to see sympathy in your eyes, no doubt too many campers will be looking upon him like he was a pitiful kicked dog, nor did he want to see disappointment; he wasn't quite sure how he'd stomach that.

But your face held neither of those emotions, instead a strong conviction resided in the lines of your face, lines that you were too young to have, that marked the effects of stress no adolescent should feel.

"I'm gonna take care of you Luke, okay?" You reached out and cupped his uninjured cheek, "I gotcha. I always gotcha."

And wasn't that something.

He reached out cupping your face in his hands, this was his whole world.

"Okay baby; yeah, please."

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

Luke had miscalculated. He'd failed to retain the master bolt and the helm of darkness.

Now, he was being punished. Severely. And he hated it but he deserved it. He'd let Kronos down, he needed to learn his lesson so he never makes the same mistake.

The nightmares cut too much into reality though sometimes. His entire body lit aflame but it always got so much worse when he was forced to face a scenario where he had to cut you up so that your pieces would replace the Titan.

He never failed this test, but it always took the most out of him. Even if you always understood his anger, he wasn't sure you'd understand his methods; and at the crack of every dawn, he'd escape his cabin and run to the lake where he knew you'd always be. Like clockwork, watching the sun rise.

This time his skin buzzed with the phantom recollection of his nightmares, he had to scrub at his eyes to clear his vision a few times, mistaking the blood on his hands to be real in his fatigued state.

You sat on the deck, eyes fixed on the changing colours of the sky. He could hear your voice humming a soft nameless tune. This was your ritual, your futile attempts at interactions with your father as he burst across the heavenly dome on his sun chariot.

Nonetheless, Luke always enjoyed the sound of your voice. He'd appreciate it if Apollo never would.

You'd sense his presence as you always did in the early hours and you'd beckon him towards you.

Sitting by your side felt right, amidst all the tension he'd been under. The weight of all his plans. Your song was familiar, the heat and strength of your figure a comfort.

"Nightmares again?" You asked, knowing the answer regardless.

He'd nod.

There were a few truths he was allowed to tell you. Sometimes if he said it with enough of himself, he could fool himself to believe that all you knew weren't mainly lies.

"Come here."

And you'd guide his head to you lap, gentle– loving, like the first rays of the sun. You would card your fingers through his curls, and every now and then lightly ghost your fingertips over the scar on his face.

On occasion, Luke would dream that you were healing him, erasing his scars, erasing his pains.

"I gotcha Luke," you'd murmur, "I always gotcha."

Some mornings he'd fall into a dreamless sleep.

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

"I gotcha baby," oh he's missed that voice, "I always gotcha, Luke." It's been too long. Days, weeks, months. Years.

You were crying.

Percy and Annabeth were crying too but–

You're crying.

Don't cry.

He's really tired, and it's getting difficult to take a breath. He figures this is the feeling of death and he's trying to not be afraid.

You reach for him, and he forces himself to open his eyes and look at you.

It's not so bad. Your face has always been what he'd like to see last. It's just–

There's so much to say. So many things he has to tell you, to apologise for, to confess, to love and there's no time.

You're so beautiful.

Even covered in soot and monster dust and blood.

Your hands cup his face, fingers instinctively brushing his brows and scar. You keep mumbling small comforts, little assurances. But you don't promise life, because that wouldn't be true and while Luke has been a deceitful liar, you have never been one yourself and you won't lie to him even now.

But you promise that you got him. And he believes you.

"I know baby," He huffs and tries to say, "but now...it's time– time to let me go."

It's a struggle. His vision is blurry, he's really tired.

So he focuses on the feel of you instead, letting his eyes close. This is just like falling asleep.

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

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fic rec #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #percy jackson #luke castellan #annabeth chase #lc

[bella-goths-wife]

How would the Vs react if their pet died in hell, forever?

The Vs reaction if pet died in hell

(This is not canon to the au!)

This is disturbing and gross so please be mindful of the media you’re choosing to consume!

Warnings: description of dead body, disturbing keeping’s of dead body, Vs sick version of mourning, grief, mentions of previous abuse, drug use mentioned

You probably would have died during an extermination

Maybe the Vs got too busy to remember to reinforce the safety precautions for the tower

Or you were accidentally downstairs when they sealed their upper level off

In any case, you are killed by an angel in cold blood

But the Vs didn’t know that yet, they were too busy at their viewing party that spies on the hazbin hotel to watch in case alastor dies

They assumed you were just in your room and decided to leave you be since they were so interested in their little spy drones

So when Vox goes to your room to check up on you and doesn’t see you in your bed, he panics

He searches all his cameras while he sends the other two to search for you

Eventually they find your body thrown across the rubble and cut open

It all happens in a very saltburn fashion

Vox doesn’t know how to react as he just drops to his knees and holds your head up while muttering about how you must be feeling cold without a jacket

Velvette just stares before mentioning how it’s almost time for breakfast and that they should all head inside, choosing to live in denial and push her feelings down for the meantime

Valentino stifles a few cries as he just stares at your dead body

They wait for someone else to get rid of your body but as soon as another demon touches your body, vox snaps and shoves them away and picks you up himself

They had to decide what to do with your body

Velvette suggested stuffing you like a doll and keeping you in her office so she could choose a new outfit for you everyday, but Vox and Valentino refused

Not because it’s disturbing and disrespectful for your dead body, but because she’d have more time with you then they would

Valentino suggested having your body burnt and fashioning accessories out of your ashes, but the other two said it would be a waste of your body

Eventually Vox had an idea, and he searched for a demon he met many many years ago

This demon had the ability to restore an item to the original condition it was in 24 hours before

It wouldn’t be able to bring you back to life since they had just missed the 24 hour window when finding your body, but they could keep your body in its first stage of the effects of death

That means your body would remain warm and soft, as if you were just sleeping

Vox had your wounds stitched up to make you look like you were just asleep and he placed you in your bed and commanded the demon to come every day and restore your body so you wouldn’t rot away

He chose to deal with your death by throwing himself into denial

He’d pretend you were just sick in bed and would still visit your corpse every night to ‘check up on you’

He’d watch you through the cameras in your bedroom in case you needed him

He started finishing work earlier to spend time with your corpse and calming ‘his daughter was sick so he had to get going’

If someone tried to point out you were dead they would receive a threatening glare and even more if they weren’t Valentino or velvette

Velvette refused to go along with that plan for the first few months, and chose to deal with your death by pushing her feelings down and finding a replacement

She assumed it was like buying a new dog after her old one had died, and refused to believe she had any emotional attachment to you

So she tried finding your replacement

She’d hire assistant after assistant who either shared your physical looks, your personality, your ability or your mannerisms

But none of them could match you in the way she needed, so she’d end up killing them or firing them

So she gave in to voxs fantasy, and began to talk to your corpse like you’d respond and began to dress your body in a new outfit every day

This worked for her, she could pretend you were here and she could still deny ever having an attachment to you

Valentino was surprisingly the one to not live into the fantasy that you were only asleep

He was the one to care about you the least in life, but he was also the one to mourn you the most on death and feel the most guilt

He drowned his sorrows in his drugs, his alcohol and his employees

He thought about how he treated you in your life, and while he didn’t feel guilt for how he abused you he did feel like a part of his missed having someone around who he could pour his frustrations into

But now you were a dead, and that somehow humanised you to him

He sometimes would get so drunk that he’d wander into your room and sit beside your corpse just to vent about how angry he felt that you’d died

How dare you? Who gave you permission to leave?

He’d just stare at your corpse and scoff, not buying into the delusions that the other two were about your dead body just being asleep

He held a funeral for you which just had him and angel dust in attendance since the other two Vs refused to believe you were dead

Angel dust was only invited because val wanted something warm to hold as he felt the complicated feelings your death brought out in him

And even so, angel dust was sure that however sad your death was and how tragic it was

You were better off dead then living with these people

@corvid007 @buttercupfangirl @lilyalone @ivebeenthearchersstuff @repostingmyfavs @the-faceless-bride @fandomaddict505 @hazbinhotelxreader @perkypeony @sparkleyfishies @idontreallyexistyet

#alastor hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vox #hazbin adam #vox #yandere vox x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #yandere velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #yandere valentino #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #alastor x you #yandere alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #charlie morningstar #vs pet

[celesteleoves]

“YOURE SWEET, so you seem like you’d like sweet things like this.”

ೃ࿐ katsuki bakugou x shy!fem!reader

warnings: mentions of anxiety, katsuki being down bad for u secretly otherwise: fluff.

summary: in which katsuki figures out he is not the only student in class 1.A that likes a certain, sweet food every once in a while.

-

with a sugar eating quirk, sato was most definitely the person you’d rely on for fulfilling your sweet tooth! everyone in class 1.A knew that he was often stacked with different saccharine or sweetened dishes.

what everyone didnt know, was that you had a knack for baking yourself. of course, you kept this to yourself incase someone didn’t like your creations. you couldn’t even fathom how embarrassing that would be if it were to happen.

the anxiety of watching someone bite into your dish, face scrunching up at the taste, made you want to vomit. so, you never let ANYONE know about this guilty pleasure of yours, often only baking close to when everyone was tucked away into their dorms.

it was 10 pm, a wednesday evening when you decided to cleanse your need to make chocolate cookies. simple, i know, but you still enjoyed making easy things like this.

as you rummaged around the kitchen, headphones plugged in as you softly hummed to music, pulling out items that you need, you failed to hear the sound of footsteps making their way towards the dim lit kitchen.

the oven went off with a ding, you smiled and pulled out the cookies. your grin growing wider when you noticed they weren’t burnt, oddly shaped, or not baked at all but instead were perfect.

you huffed as you placed them on the counter, grabbing a stool and sitting snugly while examining and separating each cookie from the other.

as the kitchen door was pulled opened, you jumped. your eyes widened as you stare towards the doorway.

“huh? the hell.” katsuki bakugou grumbled at the sight of you in the kitchen at 10 pm, on a school night, by yourself. his head tilted as he examined your hair that was tucked away in a messy bun, lips parted in shock at the sight of him and eyes widened.

he turned his gaze to the pan of cookies you had infront of you, eyes shining at the food. katsuki would never admit it, but he quite liked chocolate chip cookies. it was probably the only dish that fulfilled his sweet tooth.

“chocolate chip cookies, huh? you seem like the type of person to like sweet things.” he moved towards you as you sat there, speechless.

katsuki pulled a stool up beside you as you smiled softly at him, trying to appear as friendly as possible since he normally is never this calm… or nice.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you raised your eyebrows as he turned his attention back to you.

“you’re sweet, so you seem like you’d like sweet things like this.” he said, almost too quiet for you to hear but you noticed the way he kept his eyes trained on the food.

a flood of heat made its way onto your face as you shyly smiled, “here, i made too many cookies anyways.”

you held out the now less hot cookie to him as his lips turned upwards slightly as he took it from your hand. he bit into it, eyes immediately widening at how good the cookie tasted.

your heart dropped as you watched his expression, the fear you had of someone not liking your dish was coming to life. you felt your breathing pick up as he chewed – your heart feeling like it flew out of your chest and-

“shit, this is really good.” his ruby eyes moved to connect with yours as your nerves calmed.

“oh! thank you, bakugou.” you grinned as he let out a small smile.

“anytime. can i have more?” he seemed to get shy as he asked that question, fearing you’d make fun of him for dropping his big, tough guy persona around you.

“y-yes! of course, take as many as you want.” you scrambled with a warm feeling pounding in your chest.

katsuki looked at you with admiration and fondness as you hurriedly picked up a few more cookies just for him.

if it meant staying up past his bedtime every night just to be here with you, eating chocolate chip cookies, bakugou katsuki would do it every night.

—

a/n: i was gonna post this on valentine’s day but then i forgot! anyways, i’m back 😈

a/n pt.2: im sorry for my recent absence here and my infrequent posts, I’ve been struggling with some personal issues but please do feel free to send requests, etc. ily all.

#bakugou fluff #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki fluff #bakugou x you #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo fluff #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha

[radiance1]

Danny is so, oh so very tired about the amount of marriage proposals that popped up in front of him. Not even a day past his announcement as Crown prince either.

He's thankful that neither of his four parents are pushing him towards accepting it, but it's everyone (besides his friends of course) else who either try and subtly suggest it or outright asks him if he's chosen a spouse yet.

He's only 14! He doesn't need a spouse! And they were probably far older than him too!

Even Vlad of all people took some kind of pity on him and just decided to be a normal (for a billionaire) guy who isn't trying to kill his dad.

...However, that doesn't mean he wants him to seduce him either!

(Danny: Stop trying to seduce my dad you low-budget vampire!

Vlad, calmly sipping tea: No.)

If he wasn't majorly burnt out from the number of proposals he has to sort through, he would most definitely throw him far across town, away from his dad and mom.

He needed to find a way to stop all of these letters that just keep coming, and fast. He doesn't know how much longer he could take of reading fancy script over and over and over again, his eyes already hurt enough.

He tried to ask his Father for help, his only response was to choose a consort that he saw fit to stand alongside him. Then he had to flee before he gushed about his pops.

He asked his pops, who only said that the answer would come to him in time. Which was of no help whatsoever.

He asked his mom, she at least tried to help somewhat. Giving him some equipment to ward off any ghost who would try and forcibly take him as a consort, which had a low chance of happening considering his strength, but he was happy about it regardless.

He then finally asked his dad, after making sure that vampiric leech isn't near any of his human parents. Surprisingly, he had a pretty good idea of what to do.

He was a halfa, wasn't he? Why limit himself to just ghosts? Surely, due to his half-human status he could choose someone near his age among humanity.

Well, not in those exact words, but it was a great idea regardless! Plus, they never did specify if he had to choose a ghost consort anyways.

Now he just had to decide who to pick, really. His two best friends are out of the option, they're close, but not in that sort of way. Plus, Sam is busy with Undergrowth and Tucker bonding with Technus who was apparently apart of his family tree somewhere along the line.

Then, when he was sorting through the letters and was sure his eyes were about to bleed from reading so many fancy words, he felt it. A tug in his chest, gently urging him somewhere, and you know what, it's way better than what he was doing now, so he answered.

He felt the clothes he was swearing in that moment fade into away into the outfit he wore for his coronation. A suit, a crown made of the coldest ice from the Far Frozen, a cape made from the stars along with various little knickknacks made from various gems and a veil hung over his face.

He looked pretty good, if he says so himself. Though he didn't and still doesn't know the purpose of the veil.

He appeared in what looked like an event for a high society party, most likely filled with various rich people. He floated up and quickly looked over the people and released a sigh of relief that Vlad wasn't here, say what you will, but he doesn't fancy meeting with someone who's actively trying to seduce his dad.

He folded his arms behind his back, trying to imitate the imposing figure of his father from his place in the air, looking down at the cultists(?) below who summoned him.

"Who dares summon me." He stated, rule number one, statements hold power, questions do not. The cultist below fell to his knees, either out of devotion or fear, he didn't know.

"Oh, Prince of the infinite, we called you today for the sole purpose of serving this world to one of your standing, please let us be your servants and spare us when you plunge the world into ruin!" Ah, devotion, then. His eyes bore into the woman (from the sound of her voice) below, his silence working well to unnerve her and the other guests.

"Hm." The reward was already stated, but he neither wants too nor will take over the world. "Denied." It was short, swift, and to the point in his books, he thinks he's doing well acting out Pariah Dark!

"B-but my liege, the king-"

"What the king has been known for in the past, has nothing to do with me. You dare to assume something about me, lowly human." The human below him was actually fully blown shivering, now, slamming her head down onto the floor and shouting out a number of apologies.

Rule number two, do not take back requests you have already denied.

Ok, now he feels bad, that probably hurt a lot. But he's already come this far so-

"Is that the only reason you have called me, or do you require something else. Much of my time is not something you can afford." The woman was most undoubtedly about to say something, probably more apologies, or maybe something else, but the sounds of fighting reached the room and the doors slammed opened, the body of a cultist(?) flying through the air and the appearance of what were most likely heroes.

"Well?" He let that question slide, the cold around the room descending around the woman below as a bunch of other cultists tried to fight off the heroes.

The woman seemed hysterical with worry, most likely not wanting to go to jail, perhaps. She quickly took her head off the floor and tried to stand up, almost falling back to the ground but managing to find her footing. "M-my liege, please help us!"

He tilted his head. "And as to what, would you give me?"

"The sacrifice, yes! The sacrifice!" The woman quickly pointed below him, and only then, did Danny realize there was a boy bound below him, only to be met with a glare.

Danny hummed. Yes. That will do. "It shall be done."

Danny waved his hand, ice sprouting from the ground to force the heroes and cultists apart and then blasting a hole through the nearby wall and to the outside, a path of ice leading down to the ground. "Go." He commanded, the woman nodding her head quickly and calling to the others and disappearing outside, he then blocked off the hole with ice.

He then slowly floated downwards, besides the bound human, ignoring the shattering of ice and footfalls of no doubt the heroes trying to stop him from what he was doing. He leaned over the boy- about his age- and asked one question.

"Do you wish to become my consort?"

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #oopsie #Ended up writing lol #Anwyays #damian wayne #ghost prince danny #damian wayne x danny fenton #He's the guy bound up by the cultists lol #Danny needed to find a consort to not have to deal with marriage proposals anymore #He's sure nothing would really come out of this #Surely after this he could just claim the boy as his consort- if he says yes- and they could just go about their seperate ways #pariah dark #dp clockwork #dp dark ages #dark ages #darkages #Danny has 4 parents and then one vampiric leech trying to worm his way in lol

[xervn]

like a french girl 🎨

part 1 - paint me | part 2 | art major ellie x dance major reader | ellie photo

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 2.2k words | tags; college au, pining, only a little explicit, no use of y/n, not proofread

disclaimer: not an art or dance major, don't shoot!

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Scribble, scratch, throw. This has been Ellie’s routine since she moved onto campus.

Why? Her professor told her that she draws the human body like it’s lifeless. Ranting about how they’re too one-dimensional and have no depth, her lines are too sharp or not sharp enough; flat and boring in looks and in feeling. 

Now listen, Ellie has nothing against criticism. She respects her professor and she’s aware that her drawings lack “vitality”. It’s been something she’s struggled with for a while now, an effect of some recent events and overall adjusting to college life. 

Ellie isn’t unable to grasp the anatomy of the body, in fact it’s the opposite. She knows the human body is complex and needs thorough observation. The way the sun hits the skin, the hairs on a knuckle, the creases of a smile. Wide, small, big, tall; no two bodies are exactly the same. 

Really, the imagery is so clear to her, but she finds it impossible to transfer the life and motion of the body onto a piece of paper without truly understanding the person. The way she sees it, every body has a story, and in order to make a good piece she needs to know that story.

Since art school is filled to the brim with inspiring, exciting, and vibrant people, she has, of course, tried to talk with them. She attempted to get to know the models, ask them general questions and hope something clicks. Unfortunately, that has yet to happen. She can’t really ask her friends either without it getting awkward. Imagine, “ Oh, hey guys! Can you guys get naked and pose in one spot for my homework?”   Hear how weird that sounds? Even though she’s sure Jesse would definitely be down, she values her eyes.

 Any “muse” she could possibly ever want was right in front of her, so why was it really impossible for her to find one?

 Well, because Ellie didn’t find anyone interesting enough. She’s not shallow or anything, it has nothing to do with how the model looked, Ellie has had several good-looking models. It was more about how she perceived them. It’s just that she hasn’t seen a model that made her ask questions like: “ How’d they get that scar?”  “ What does that tattoo mean?” Stuff like that.

The last interesting model she had was probably a fucking homeless guy she shared a blunt with outside a gas station many moons ago. Till this day, he might be one of her best pieces. There’s not a lot of moments like that here.

Nonetheless, Ellie saw this developing– extremely lame— personal requirement of hers annoying as shit. It’s holding her back big time, but she couldn’t help it even if she really wanted to.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

It’s practically useless to keep trying. The tiny voice in Ellie's head presses her to keep going, keep failing, but enough is enough. She is seriously burnt out and any more of this might kill her. The only thing that could help right now is a meaty slice of pizza and a blunt as soon as she thought of it.

Ellie clears out her desk, knocking the stack of crumpled paper into a conveniently placed trash can; a placement made from her constant trials and errors. She pushes up, and stretches widely, obnoxiously groaning like an old man by the end of it. She quickly tidied herself up, tying up half of her hair into a ponytail and throwing on a dark-green flannel shirt she had to sniff before wearing over her plain white tee. She takes a quick look into her floor-length mirror, making sure she looks presentable before grabbing what she needs to head out.

Just as her hand reached for the silver knob, Ellie felt this overwhelming urge to look back. God, she knows what she is going to look back at, but she really hopes she doesn’t. Unfortunately, her eyes land on her sketchbook, laid flat on the desk underneath a lamp’s warm light. She shouldn’t.

She needs a break. She knows she needs a break, but there is a twinge of hope, faith, lodged somewhere inside her. The same faith that’s kept her from dropping out every day for the past four months. Ellie groans as she drags her feet to her desk where she whisks up the brown book and shoves it in her tote bag with an accompanying pencil. She swivels back to the door and strolls out, silently praying her mood improves in the next hour.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

The cafeteria was surprisingly crowded, but Ellie managed to get her pizza without saying ‘fuck it’ to the line. Still, the thought of eating between this buzzing mess when she was in such a shitty mood turned her off. Thankfully, she knew that everyone would be everywhere but the upstairs balcony, especially during this chilly time of year. No sane person would eat out there, and she’s not particularly sane. Ellie saunters off to the balcony and sits herself at a small table facing the view.

It only took a glance around before she came to the realization that the view is not really a view. There’s only a dorm a few feet away, directly across. It’s a large brick-laid, generic building with wide windows. If it weren’t for the blinds, the view into a room would probably be good enough to read a label on something. Ellie’s freckled face grimaces at the thought, imagining what it’d be like if someone watched her rage as she messed up her homework over and over from this distance. Despite that, she thought it’d probably be a pretty good spot to live in. It’s close to the cafeteria and probably a lot bigger than her 1x1 dorm.

With a twinge of curiosity piquing her mind, Ellie glimpses over the windows, and for the most part, they are all closed.

All closed, but yours.

Yours doesn’t even have blinds. You’re on the 3rd floor and almost completely unobscured in a black camisole, sitting on your questionably roomy windowsill with a leg perched up. Ellie can see the fairy lights strung up in your bedroom, and a line of succulents closer to the window; ordered by size, which she briefly thought was cute. 

You aren’t facing the window, so she can only see your back. What she could see, though, is you doing your hair, occasionally swaying to what she can only imagine is music. Your room is high, but low enough for her to identify you if she had the pleasure of knowing you. Knowing you, reverberates in her head. Does she know you? Has she met you before? Amongst that babble, there is one more question she is slowly trying to gather an answer to. 

Time passes, most definitely shorter than Ellie would have thought passed. Her eyes have been glued on you the whole time, she even forgot about her, now freezing cold, pizza just so she could gawk at you. She still hasn’t seen your face yet, barely even a glimpse, but she already thinks you are stupidly beautiful just by the way you move.

From the graciousness of your movements alone, she thought there was no way in hell you didn’t know she was watching. At some point, your arms got tired, so you smoothly rolled your aching shoulders back; stretching into an arched, effortlessly perfect posture. Ellie’s eyes traced that slight curve of your back as if you’d disappear if she broke off from you.

There is no way it gets better from that, is what she thinks to herself, only to be shut up immediately after when she sees that perfectness of your back stay as you bend over and shift onto both knees to grab something far away, bringing your shorts in view. So short— so tight , they could easily be mistaken for panties. 

It was unexpected to say the least, Ellie could feel her face heating up and had to look around her to see if anyone else could see what she was seeing right now. Ellie wondered about the practicality of those shorts, wondered what exactly they were supposed to cover, leering at the plush of your ass peeking out. She thoughtlessly lets her jaw drop before muttering out a low, impressed, and barely over a whisper, “Well, fuck.”

You must’ve noticed your shorts riding up, since you quickly pulled them down after you grabbed what you wanted. Ellie clears her throat, internally scolding herself for being so gross— so perverted. Her brows furrow in embarrassment from all the dirty thoughts she brewed up in that moment. But for some reason, she still doesn’t look away. Well, there’s a list of reasons for her to look away, but she feels like ignoring it. 

Then a cold gust of wind bites past her face, clearly a sign from the universe that she should snap out of it, and snap out of it she does. 

What the hell happened to her? What is it about you that she keeps leaning into? Suddenly something clicks in her brain. After months of creative agony, something finally clicked. She has sat here completely fascinated by you and she couldn’t tell sooner?

In all honesty, to say she is just “interested” in you would be an understatement. Yeah, now she thinks you’re the perfect model for her final, but she wants to know you beyond just the drawing. A plus is that you just happened to be hot, and Ellie has never been attracted to a subject before, so the whole thing was new and exciting to her. Just the thought of drawing you made her remember why she loved art so much.  Ellie reaches for her tote bag sitting in an empty seat beside her, pulling out her sketchbook with more enthusiasm than she probably ever has. She sets the book down, opening up a blank page with one hand and tightening her grip on her pencil in the other.

She looks back up at your window, ready to sketch your life onto paper and..  Shit. You’re looking back.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Today has been a good day for you, your teacher chose  you to teach the choreo you’ve been working on for weeks to your classmates. It was an obvious ego booster for you. You felt good and you wanted to look good too, even if you weren’t going out anywhere. It was just one of those nights. You wanted to experiment with your hair, thinking maybe you’ll do something new before your next practice. Dye it, cut it.. something.

It’s been a while since you started, and after several wrist and shoulder cramps, you were finally finished. You take a look into your hand mirror, peering at your reflection. You’re satisfied now, looking exactly how you’re feeling if you minus the dingy sleep clothes you’re in. 

♫ My heart, I never be, I never see, I never know. ♫

Grimes? Really? You pout, upset that your playlist didn’t magically read your mood. What you need is real 2000’s hot girl music. Britney Spears, Nelly Furtado, or Beyoncé for crying out loud.

“Alexa, skip!” You shout across the room, just loud enough for the device to hear. 

The stupid thing doesn’t even light up, so you call out a few more times but to no avail. Isn’t the whole point of that thing to be voice automated? You sigh and look around for your phone, and seeing it’s nowhere in front of you, you figure it’s behind. You twist your torso to find your phone behind you and luckily you do. As you pick it up, you casually glance out the window without any expectations. 

Did you see a figure in the blur as you looked away? You question your eyes, but you decide to take another look and just find out for yourself.

You peer back down and your eyes meet with someone else’s. The sudden eye contact between you and this woman instantly mortified you. Your heart sunk, and all you could do was raise your brows stupidly. She was surprised too, even in the dim light you could see her shocked expression boring back at you. Not only that, it went on for way longer than it should have. Any normal person would’ve looked away, but her eyes lingered on you before she hastily turned away. 

You’ve been sitting here, dressing up your hair, listening to your music without a care in the world. Far too absorbed in yourself to realize there’s someone outside your window. You slide off your windowsill and out of sight. Just as your bottom finally hits the wood floor, you feel the coldness of it against your skin and you’re immediately conscious of the fact that your ass was literally out at some point. 

The poor girl was trying to eat her food and you were bending over in front of your window like a harlot. It certainly didn’t help that she looked kinda hot. Did she? You peeked over your windowsill, hoping to get another look to really assess her hotness, but she was already gone. Whatever, maybe she didn’t see? But she looked embarrassed… embarrassed for you probably!

You hide your face in your hands and topple to the side, letting out a fake sob. Oh, god. You can already imagine Dina’s face when you tell her. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that thought. That was humiliating as shit, but it’s whatever. It’s not like you’ll see her again. 

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

side note: if you have any tropes you'd like to see w/ this universe pls do drop an ask 🤭

click 4 more!

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #the last of us part 2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #lesbian #ᝰ like a french girl

[kingkatsuki]

— babysitting

Just a silly little piece about Bakugou looking after his nephew when Kirishima and his wife are both working, and him being the cutest little wingman.

Warnings: fluff!, implied!older Bakugou, Bakugou’s behaviour could be construed as stalking but it’s not really, he just proper fancies you.

Pairing: implied!Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 2.1k.

“Please, Kats. I promise it won’t be for long, we didn’t realise we were both working this afternoon and I can’t take him on patrol with me—” Kirishima pleaded on the phone.

“I’m busy,” Bakugou replied bluntly.

“Busy doing what?” His best friend almost whined, and Bakugou could tell the hulking tank of a man was pouting on the other side of the line.

“None of your damn business.”

Bakugou didn’t want to admit the real reason he was busy today. It was the same reason he was now busy every day he was off.

A few weeks ago he’d made his way into Musutafu mall on his lunch break to pick up a copy of a new romance book his favourite author had just released. And while he was checking out he noticed you filling up one of the displays near the back of the store, giving him the cutest smile when he’d passed you to leave.

Since that day he’d come back every week on one of his days off, just to get a simple “hey” from you as he bought yet another book. Bakugou was certain he’d soon have so many unread books in his house that he’d have to build an extension to store them, but he couldn’t help it.

And today was going to be the day that he was actually going to talk to you— possibly.

“Can’t you reschedule? It’ll only be for a few hours until I can get off patrol and he can spend the afternoon at the agency with me.”

“What about Mina?” Bakugou offered.

“She’s got that photoshoot with Hero Weekly today, remember?” Of course she fucking does, “And Sero’s out on patrol with me.”

“Denks?” Bakugou was certain he already knew the answer to that one though, as he ran a palm down the length of his face.

“You know I’m not allowed to leave him unsupervised with Denki anymore, Bro.” Kirishima groaned, “The wife still hasn’t forgiven me for them almost setting the kitchen on fire.”

Bakugou couldn’t help but snigger at the memory, the panicked phone call that he’d heard coming through on the central emergency line that there was a fire in Red Riot’s neighbourhood, and when Backdraft had turned up at the scene he’d found a singed Denki standing inside a murky kitchen with some burnt cookies. Kirishima had to replace two cabinet units and the oven after that debacle and it was no wonder his wife no longer trusted Denki as a babysitter.

“Please, man. I already told him, and he’s real excited to spend the day with you.”

Bakugou couldn’t deny he missed spending time with his little nephew, and Kirishima knew his best friend couldn’t deny the pleas of his son. Silently fist pumping the air in relief when Bakugou finally responded on the other end of the phone.

“Fine, I’ll pick him up now.”

“Uncle Kats, let’s get these!” His nephew picked up a water gun from a wire dumpbin of toys outside the toy store, turning around in a crouched motion with eyes squinted as he pretended to shoot Bakugou.

He put his hands up in mock surrender as he grabbed at the plastic barrel, holding it in the air as he took it out of his nephews hands to place it back inside the bin.

“Your parents don’t like you having guns, remember squirt.”

“But what if I need one for protection.”

“You don’t need that shit for protection,” He shook his head, “I’ll be there to protect ya.”

“But wouldn’t it be cool to have a water gun fight outside. It’s summer.” His young nephew whined as Bakugou began to lead him away from the toy store, noticing that your work was approaching on the right side of the mall.

“I’ll talk to them about it.” Bakugou reached down to ruffle his hair as his nephew shouldered his leg wrapping an arm around one thick thigh to squeeze him into a hug in thanks, “How about a book? You like reading, don’tcha?”

“Not really,” He shook his head, immediately making a beeline for the confectionery inside the shop.

“What? Why not.” Bakugou raised a brow before he began to search the store for you, hoping that you weren’t on your lunch break.

You were usually in one of the back aisles around this time of day, tidying the shelves as he pretended to flick through the various hero books that you sold. Like he’d ever actually buy one of them— perhaps the book Miruko had released on unabashedly being yourself despite the critics, or the memoir Edgeshot had put together before he passed away, but never the unofficial Deku books that seemed to line the shelves of your Pro-Hero section and were always on sale. Bakugou snorted when he noticed a large bright red “half off” sticker covering Deku’s face on one.

“It’s too many pages.” His nephew scoffed, picking up a chocolate bar as Bakugou placed a palm on the back of his neck to lead him away from the sweets.

“You just gotta find a book that doesn’t feel like too many pages, that’s all.” He began to walk towards the manga aisle, wondering if there might be something there that would interest the young boy.

“You like reading, uncle Kats?”

“Course I do,” Bakugou scoffed, “Way better than TV. That shit’ll rot your brain.”

He had an entire bookshelf of his favourites lined up at home. All in alphabetical order by author and spines outward facing, a few of his favourite covers turned forward to show off the artwork. Some spines were more worn than others, an indication of the sheer number of times he’d sought comfort in those stories after a long day at work, or a lonely night at home.

“What kinda books do you like?”

Bakugou chewed on the inside of his cheek before answering. It would be so easy to lie and say action or fantasy, certain that half the people who claimed their favourite book was Lord of the Rings or a Game of Thrones had never actually read them. Or the pretentious people who would pretend their favourites were non-fiction books about bettering yourself or hyper-specific topics that would never come up in normal conversation. But there was a part of him that didn’t want to lie to his nephew— the boy was always so open and honest with him, even at his young age.

“Romance.” Bakugou shrugged, leaning forward to pick up one of the new manga books that sat on a top shelf.

“Eww yuck,” Bakugou’s nephew immediately scrunched up his face, making a show of sticking his tongue out in distaste, “I didn’t think you’d like books like that.”

“What did ya think I’d like?”

“I dunno, like action or kicking villain ass.”

“Don’t say ass.” Bakugou frowned, his eyebrows narrowing as he glared down at the young boy.

“But you say it all the time, I hear you.”

“Yeah, because I’m an adult.” Bakugou grinned, “I see enough of that crap when I’m at work, don’t need to read about it too.”

“You say ‘shit’ a lot too.”

“Oi, you little—” Bakugou lost his train of thought the moment he saw you past a corner, words disappearing into nothing as he noticed the same focused look on your face as you sorted through a delivery of new books.

Bakugou was certain you were wearing a new pair of jeans today, or at least a pair he’d never seen before. You looked real good in them. He felt his heartbeat increase when you placed a book back on the shelf, stopping to talk to one of your colleagues as your lips curled in to the prettiest smile, and he couldn’t stop himself as he felt himself beginning to mimic your smiling face.

“Oh,” The kid nudged his thigh, shamelessly standing around the shelves to stare at you, “Is that the real reason why you brought me into a bookstore? Not because you want me to read.”

“What?” Bakugou wasn’t even sure he heard the question as he kept his gaze on you. Feeling his cheeks begin to heat up as you bent over to pick up more books, the angle had your jeans tightening against the curve of your ass and he felt like a pervert for ogling you so shamelessly.

“The lady you’re staring at.” His nephew snorted, pointing over at you “You’re so obvious.”

“Piss— shut up,” Bakugou caught himself, grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt to tug him back behind the shelves, “I ain’t starin’.”

“Yeah you are!” His nephew sniggered, “You’re giving her the same look my dad gives ma.”

“No I ain’t.” Bakugou almost pouted, crimson eyes still peeking at you through the shelves in the aisle he was down as you continued to place more books onto the table in your section.

“You so are,” His tone increased, and Bakugou had to stop himself from slapping a palm over his big mouth to shut him up, “You’re so obvious. Look how red you are!”

Was he that obvious? Bakugou had done everything he could to be subtle each week when he visited your bookstore, trying to stick to the same shelves and strategically picking up books so he didn’t seem like was just staring at you all the time. Not that it was his fault anyway, you were so fucking pretty.

“Why don’t you go and talk to her?”

“She’s workin’.” Bakugou replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. He’d probably said a total of five words to you since he’d started coming into your book store a few weeks ago, and the thought of saying any more had a ferocious pit growing inside his stomach.

“So? If you like her you should tell her,” His nephew tried to nudge him towards you, “That’s why my dad asked my ma out.”

“That’s different,” Bakugou grumbled, “This is…”

Kirishima knew his wife liked him back, they’d been friends long before they started dating so they had a foundation to build upon. This? This was completely new to him, and the thought of being rejected, especially by a girl as pretty as you, petrified him.

“Wait, you read all those romance books and you don’t know how to ask a girl out?”

“I do know,” Bakugou sneered, “I ain’t a total dumbass.”

“So why don’t you?”

Because he was a coward, that’s why.

Not that he’d even be able to talk to you long enough to do it if he could. His throat seized up and his heart practically ricocheted off his rib cage whenever you were near, your perfume lingering in the air as it had him wishing he could bring you into a warm embrace. He’d ask you out one day, just not today—

“Because I told ya, she’s workin’.” Bakugou began to steer his nephew away from the manga section, trying to get him to leave the store.

It had been a bad idea to still come to your store on his day off even though he was babysitting, but he couldn’t help it. The routine he’d settled into on his days off no longer felt complete if they didn’t include you, the small time he’d spend in the bookstore each week were enough to become the highlight of his day. And he would ask you out— just not today.

“Don’t tell your parents about this,” Bakugou grumbled, “Your dads too frigging nosy.”

“Alright,” His nephew practically sung the word, and Bakugou knew exactly what was coming, “But it’ll cost you.”

“I’m sure it’s a crime to blackmail a Pro-Hero, squirt.”

“So I’ll just tell the pretty lady you fancy her then.”

“Fine, fine,” Bakugou snarled, the corner of his lip curling to bare his gum, “Whaddya want?”

“That water gun we saw at the toy store.”

God, Kirishima was gonna kill him.

“Fine.” Bakugou groaned, walking towards the cash register to pay for the candy that he’d picked up.

“But you have to get one too so we can play together, alright?”

Two guns. Kirishima’s wife would definitely kill him before he even attempted to sweet talk his best friend.

“I was going to say the loser has to tell that girl from the bookstore that you like her, but you’ll probably lose because you’re old.”

“Oi, you cheeky little shit,” He ruffled his nephew's messy black hair, “Watch who you’re callin’ old, squirt. I’ll kick your ass and ask her out.”

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #soft bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x reader

[creamhoodie]

Hot Kettle

synopsis: "Reader is a new teacher at Jujutsu High school. She and Gojo have mutual feelings for each other but she at first thinks he is a player and avoids him. After being snowed in and spending time with each other, they learn more about each other.

A/N:Not sure how I feel about this but I've been working on it for weeks and have writer's block when trying to write anything else.

tags/warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, fluff, afab reader. Switching perspectives between Gojo & Reader. Flashback scenes written in italics. Other jjk characters mentioned.

word count: 8.2K

Snow flurries fell on the campus of Tokyo Jujutsu High and the ground had frozen into crystals.

You had only been working as a professor here for four months and it was your first winter here. 

Principal Yaga had sent out an email saying that classes were canceled. Of course the students rejoiced, but for faculty members snow days meant faculty meetings. 

You made your way to the designated meeting spot now, your snow boots clicking along the ice as you made your way into the building. 

Upon arrival, you found the room empty. Strange. Surely this had been the designated meeting room as stated in Principle Yaga’s email. 

Perhaps you were early? You had a tendency to arrive notoriously early for meetings and events. No matter, it gave you enough time to pop into the lounge room and heat up your ramen as a substitute for the breakfast you had skipped in order to arrive on time. 

You made your way into the lounge room that was only two doors over. It was also empty, but that was expected given the ghostlike fashion of the building besides your presence. You placed your tote bag down on the table and took out your heatable ramen. Fortunately you had packed a plastic fork. 

That meant the only thing you needed was water. The kettle was out already, strange but there was nothing suspicious about this given that and the toaster were often left out after use and not put away into their assigned cabinets. 

You went to grab it and as you did let out a blood curdling shriek as the white hot pain in your palm and fingers signified it had recently been used. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Oh my god we’re sorry Professor!”

“What do you mean we? I told you to put it away!” 

As your eyes opened, having winced them from the pain, your eyes focused to find three of the students: Megumi fushiguro, Yuiji Itadori, and Nobara Kugisaki.

They were all staring at you with concern and from the mugs they were holding in their hands and their words you pieced together that they were the culprits.

You didn’t have a chance to respond however as footsteps came running over and to add more insult to injury, your fellow faculty members were peering in: Principale Yaga, Mei-Mei, Kento Nanami, and of course dreadfully… Satoru Gojo. 

You felt his eyes watching you underneath his blind fold.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice sounded unusually harsh.

“We wanted to make hot chocolate and we were in a rush because afterwards we were gonna have a snowball fight using our techniques. I guess we didn’t put the kettle away properly and the Professor here got burnt,” Yuji explained for the group. 

His explanation did nothing to dissuade Gojo however.

“And how many times have we told everyone to put the kettle away properly so that this doesn’t happen?” 

By this point, all eyes were on Gojo. He was sounding so stern and angry, nothing like himself. He was usually the most carefree of the adults. 

“Gojo, it’s okay. They didn’t mean to, I should have been more careful,” you said. 

“No it’s not okay,” Gojo said, going up to you now, his thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had been shed from the pain. 

Now your face was flushing and you were glad that the onlookers would just take it as embarrassment from the situation not knowing that there was more at play here, that there was history between you and the blind folded man which added to your embarrassment.

“That’s enough. Gojo, would you escort her to Shoko please? She should still be in her office since she hadn’t met with us yet for the meeting,” Principal Yaga said. 

“Can Nanami escort me instead please?” you asked.

You didn’t want to be alone with Gojo, it would only make things more awkward, no right now you needed to be with anyone but him. 

“That’s fine with me, I’ll go with you,” Nanami said, ever the gentleman. 

You gave an apologetic smile to the students as you followed Nanami.

“Oh and Nanami? Relay to Shoko that the meeting is canceled. I’m sure given the morning’s events and the weather that’s the last night anyone wants to do,” Principal Yaga said. 

You felt several eyes watching you as you followed your tan suited escort, but only one pair of those eyes mattered, pairs that you had actively been trying to avoid. 

The thing you enjoyed about Kento Nanami was that he didn’t pry, meaning he wasn’t one to ask invasive questions. 

While others may have asked about Gojo and why he had reacted the way he had, Nanami had only assured you he’d get you there safely and that Shoko has healed far worse. 

He had a calm presence and demeanor, the type that set you completely at ease. That is why though you had only been here a short while he was your favorite coworker.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your morning,” you felt the need to apologize to him all the same. 

“It’s no matter. I’m sure you didn’t want to be burnt this morning, but life is full of things we can’t anticipate,” he replied kindly. 

You followed him to a part of the school you hadn’t been before. Luckily you've had the fortune of not having to visit Shoko for healing purposes until now. In a way it was embarrassing as you were sure Nanami had been here for much for dire wounds, battle wounds really from his missions since he was a grade 1 sorcerer. But Nanami didn’t judge, he wasn’t the type to goad or say hurtful things. 

After what felt like forever due to the burning sensation in your hand, you two at last arrived in a wing of the school that seemed more like a hospital with its medical items laid out and its fluorescent light. A figure with long brown hair was slumped in a swivel chair in front of a computer.

“Shoko?” Nanami asked, shaking her shoulder slightly so she’d wake up.

Her eyes fluttered open and as if she could sense it she seemed to know there was a problem.

“What is it? Who needs to be healed?” She asked, but she answered her question upon looking at your tear stained face. 

She stood up and took your hand. Her gaze shifted between you and Nanami, clearly questioning.

“The kids left the hot kettle out and she got burnt,” he explained.

“Ahh,” she said in understanding. 

Your face flushed even more. It was so embarrassing. But Shoko was focused on healing you now and her mind had gone into the place only she and few others knew.

You watched as she worked her magic. You had heard others speak about it in awe but having never witnessed it yourself, it was amazing to see. Your palm and fingers once jaded red were now returned to their baby soft pink, they seemed even more soft than before as if you had just been reborn. Most importantly, there was no pain. Matter of fact if it wasn’t for your current location and Nanami at your side, you would have almost thought you dreamt the whole thing.

“Better?” Shoko asked, her eyes were dim and jaded and you remembered thinking how she always looked sad. 

It had always been strange to you how someone with an ability capable of performing miracles could be so sad but you chalked it up to the fact that healing wounds lost its charm when it was those close to you on the brink of life and death.

“Thank you,” you said as she slumped back into her previous position.

Nanami filled her in on the meeting’s cancellation as she took out a cigarette and lit it. 

The first time you had met Satoru Gojo was in one of the faculty meetings that he had hosted at his place. It was your first faculty meeting in fact, and it had been hosted on your third week at the job.

By then you had met all the others, besides him. 

You had been filled in on the details about him from students to faculty alike and had gathered a mosaic of him from their words: the strongest, childish, intelligent, 

Those were all adjectives that had been used to describe him.

However, nothing had prepared you for when he had asked for you to stay behind once the meeting had been dismissed and everyone else had left.

“You’re new. We haven’t been properly introduced,” he said to you then outstretched his big hand for you to shake.

“I don’t really think you need an introduction. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you said, noticing how he still held your hand in his own despite the shake being far from over.

“And what is it you’ve heard?” He asked in a teasing fashion, his lips curled up at the ends.

“Only that you're the strongest sorcerer, Nanami said you’re childish, the students like you a lot,” you paused.

“What is it?” He probed. 

“I’ve been told you have these eyes that are so vividly blue,” you said, not being able to hide your curiosity.

He chuckled in understanding.

“You want to see them? You can take my blindfold off,” he said. 

At last he released your hand so you were able to do so. You had to stand on your tippy toes and he had bent down to help you as you flipped up the blindfold so it was resting on his forehead. 

You had gasped at the mesmerizing blue that was like no other.

“Like them?” he teased. 

His words had sent a jolt of heat in somewhere you were sure was not appropriate. 

“They are beautiful,” you had found yourself whispering. 

After that encounter, you and Gojo had experienced various flirtatious exchanges. The two of you had only gotten physical once and it had been unexpected. 

You had been cleaning up your classroom, the students having long been dismissed when he had come in.

“Still here?” He teased. 

“I’m not in a big hurry to go home,” you said offhandedly ignoring how his presence next to you, heat radiating off his body was making you nervous. You finished wiping off the chalk board and looked up at him. 

“Lonely at home?” he continued to tease. 

“No,” you said a little too defensively before adding, “I just like being here. You may have been here for a while but I’m still trying to get established.” 

It was true, you had shared it with him in one of your lounge room talks where he had asked you about your background. You were a foreigner that had cursed energy and had taught at a non sorcery university in your home country. Having heard of Jujutsu High and being introduced to Principal Yaga through a mutual connection, the principal had then invited you to come teach at Jujutsu High. 

“That’s right, I’m sorry,” he said, tugging at a strand of your hair.

“Why are you still here anyways?” you asked, turning the question back on him. 

“Because I knew you’d be here,” he answered honestly.

“Me?” you asked dumbfounded. 

He chuckled, stepping forward.

“How long are we gonna do this dance, princess?” he asked, calling you the nickname he had coined for you. 

“What dance?” you asked.

But you knew, of course you knew. All those flirty exchanges, light touches, teasing, and lounge room talks weren’t for anything. 

“That we don’t want each other,” he said simply. 

“And who says I want you?” you asked defensive again. Okay maybe you did want him, but he didn’t have to be so arrogant about it. 

“Hmm. Well what was it you said about my eyes again? ‘They are so beautiful.’ “

You flushed in anger and embarrassment now and tried to push past him, but he held onto you effortlessly by your shoulders. You were pinned against the chalkboard.

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours and your body instantly relaxed, you felt him smile at that. 

He was right of course, even if he had gone about it in the way he had, there was no denying the sexual tension and chemistry between the two of you. 

Giving yourself over to it now, you moaned as his lips moved to your neck, teething slightly at the skin. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he groaned into your skin. 

Your hands went to his hair, fisting the soft white locks. 

Nothing else seemed to exist besides you and him. 

“Gojo,” you whined wrapping your legs around his waist and he seemed to know exactly what you needed as he hoisted you up easily and placed you on your desk, notebooks clattering on the floor. 

“Fuck,” he cursed as your long skirt spilled around your thighs revealing your silky skin and damp underwear. 

You bit your lip as his fingers found your clit. You felt like you were in heaven and his name had spilled from your lips over and over again like a prayer. 

Satoru Gojo…

Of course you had wanted him who wouldn’t? He was impossibly handsome, he had truly won the genetic  lottery in more ways than one, and he was so gifted with his fingers that were making you reach new heights even you hadn’t taken yourself to.  

That line of thinking created a problem brewing in your mind: Everyone wanted him.

So what made you different? You were the new girl on the block, and you didn’t know him all that well despite your talks with him. You didn’t know him all that long. Maybe you had been overthinking, but it was that thinking that had taken you out of the mood.

“Gojo stop,” you choked out. 

His movements stilled, hearing the tone in your voice.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. 

You couldn’t exactly tell him your worries as you didn’t want to make things awkward. Besides what were you supposed to say? ‘I’m worried I’m just another one of your quick hook ups?’ You didn’t want to be clingy or weird especially if he just saw this as a casual encounter.

“No, no, everything is fine. I just should be going now it’s getting late,” you rambled straightening yourself up and standing up from the desk. 

You had been grateful you hadn’t seen his eyes as you were sure they were confused.

“Well can I  walk you to your car?” he offered. 

“No, that’s not necessary but thank you for your concern,” you had stated. 

Then you had rushed off. 

Your relationship with Gojo has been rocky ever since. You actively avoided him and he started doing the same. In a way you wondered if you had bruised his ego since he had never been used to rejection. 

Having assured Nanami you would be fine, you had driven yourself home. There was no reason for you to stay on campus given the meeting’s cancellation and the snow day. Moreover, you weren’t up to sticking around because of the morning’s embarrassing events. 

You made your way into your small apartment, and kicked your shoes off.’

When you were about to settle down on your couch and watch some television, the doorbell rang. Perhaps it was Nanami doing a possible checkup on Principal Yaga’s orders? 

You opened the door and found the person you were actively avoiding: Satoru Gojo.

“You forgot this,” he said, holding up your tote bag that you had left behind in the lounge room. 

“Oh, thank you,” you replied, still stunned. You stood there frozen for too long until he cleared his throat.

“It’s kind of cold out here, you know snow day and all,” he said, shivering with emphasis.

Even though it was the last thing you wanted to do, you invited him in. 

“Make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything?” you asked, closing the door behind him and watching as he looked around your living room. 

“No, I’m good. I can make you those noodles you wanted earlier though,” he offered. 

The noodles? Oh yes, the ramen pack. You had forgotten about them. It was endearing in a way that he had even remembered them. 

Before you could answer, he was picking the plastic bowl out of your purse and heading towards the kitchen.

“That’s not really necessary..” you began to protest as you followed him but he cut you off.

“Have you eaten today?”

Your stomach betrayed you, giving a rumble by way of answer. 

He chuckled before saying, “thought so.” You watched as he filled one of the pots with water before placing it on your stove and turning it on. The kettle would have been much more straightforward but given the morning’s events you figured he didn’t want to use it. Once the water heated up enough, it didn’t take too long on account of you having a gas stove, he transferred the dry noodles from their plastic bowl container to the pot.

Watching him in this domestic setting did something to you. Though you couldn’t see his eyes, his face was calm and focused. 

“Watching me?” he teased.

Your face blushed scarlet. 

“You know it’s not really fair that you wear that blindfold around,” you said. After all, it gave him the advantage of being able to catch you gawking at him. You suspected this wasn’t the first time he had noticed. 

“Would you like me to take it off?” He asked innocently. 

Remembering your only other exchange with him that involved his unsheathed eyes, you opted against shaking your head then adding a firm “no” in case his eyes weren’t on you for once. 

All the same, you continued to stand there leaning alongside the counter watching him as he had now taken to stirring the boiling noodles with a fork. After a few minutes of this, he transferred the now ready noodles into one of your bowls. 

“Do you prefer your noodles with broth or drained?” He asked. 

“Drained,” you replied, 

“Me too. I find that too much liquid laps up the flavor,” he said, going to drain it now in your sink. He then added the flavor, stirring it. When it was at last ready, he set it on your kitchen island, beckoning you to come sit. 

Hunger winning out, you did as he had instructed, not even bothering to care that he sat in the seat next to you. 

The noodles were good and just warm enough for you to enjoy and satisfy your hunger. You eagerly stuffed your face forgetting for a moment the man at your side. 

It was only when you finished eating that he at last spoke up.

“I wanna talk to you about what happened between us,” he said. 

Of course you had expected this, but it didn’t make it anymore easy to breach this topic. 

“What is there to talk about?” you asked, deciding to play dumb. 

“The kiss we shared,” he said, turning his body towards you.

He knew damn well it had been more than a simple kiss. If you hadn’t put the brakes on when you had maybe the two of you would have gone all the way in the classroom! 

“I don’t see why we have to discuss it. We kissed, so what? We can move on from it,” you said. 

“But that’s the thing. I can’t move on. I think about it all the time,” he said. There was a unique yearning in his voice, a tone you had never heard from before. At last you turned to face him as well and though his eyes were still hidden there was an expression of sadness on his face. 

“Well I’m sure you kiss people all the time,” you said. In an effort to put some space between the two of you, you stood up and walked away from the kitchen back into the living room, hoping he’d follow so you could direct him to the door. 

“That’s it then? You think I just kiss anyone?” he asked, following you as you had anticipated. His long legs allowed him to catch up to you quickly and he caught your wrist, swiveling you around to face him. “Don’t ignore me. You feel something for me too, I know it.” 

His proximity to you had your breath hitching, it had been a while since you had been this close. 

“Gojo-“ you began to protest.

“Satoru,” he corrected, wanting things to be less formal. 

“Maybe you should get going,” you said but your voice wasn’t as convincing as you’d hoped. 

“You’d really throw me out in the snow like that?” he teased. 

“You’d be fine,” you retorted. 

By now your resistance was waning, despite your better judgment, the scent of his cologne and the feel of his warm body was threatening your resolve. 

He seemed to know that all too well. 

“Let me kiss you again. I’ve missed your lips,” he whispered. 

Your knees buckled a little. 

He bent down, lips brushing against your jawline, the scent of him intoxicating.

It was futile, you wanted him desperately and he knew that. So when you didn’t push him away his lips lingered merely inches from yours, his minty breath in your face, leaving the option to you. 

Giving into your urges, you had only to bend forward, and once you did his lips were on yours. Like before, the passion between the two of you was intense, even more so given the built up frustration from how you had avoided him then. 

His tongue soon found yours and your legs hoisted yourself around his waist. 

“Satoru.. bedroom,” you whimpered. 

He understood, still holding you as you guided him to your bedroom. 

You didn’t have time to feel embarrassed about the plushies you had on your bed despite being a grown woman, as he plopped you down alongside them.

“Lay back,” he commanded. 

You did, but watched as he got on his knees in front of you. 

“Satoru, what are you doing?” you asked, still breathless from the kisses you had exchanged. 

He took his time answering you, a sly grin on his face as his hand caressed your pantyhose clothed thighs that were exposed as your skirt fell in ripples around your waist. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good. The way I wanted to before you left that day,” he said. His hands went up to the top of your waist band, pulling your pantyhose down effortlessly. He gasped at his newfound discovery. “No panties? You really are so shameless.” 

Your face was red.

“I- there was a line with my skirt and the tights are thick,” you stammered, feeling the need to defend your choice of wear. 

“I like it. How often do you go commando under these long skirts of yours?” he probed, fully removing your tights and leaving your legs and sex naked underneath the layers of your skirt. 

“Only when I wear the tights underneath,” you replied.

His hand cupped your heated sex, your arousal leaking into the palm of his hand.

“That’s right you did have some panties on in the classroom that day,” he said recalling. His fingers parted your wet folds. “You think one of these days you could just go completely commando for me? Nothing underneath? Not even your pretty little tights?” 

By this point you kept feeling pangs of pain and your clit throbbing, there was no denying the effect he had on you. 

“Somehow I don’t think that would be appropriate for the classroom,” you stated. 

This only seemed to encourage him more. 

“It’d be fun though. Just think about it,” his hand released your sex. He seemed to have something devious in mind. He came closer to you whispering in your ear. “You and me. The fun we could have. The quickies we could partake in between classes.” 

You’d be lying if you said his words weren’t appealing to you and vivid images of you hoisted against a desk and him shooting his load into you were intruding your mind.

“Satoru…” your voice had an edge to it. One that still remembered why you had put the brakes in between the two of you in the first place. 

He seemed to understand.

“Oh that’s right. You think I do this with just anyone. That I’m something of a player huh?” He asked, and you were surprised to hear offense in his voice. 

“I just don’t know you all that well yet,” you stammered apologetically. 

You felt that it was an almost stupid thing to say given the state the two of you were in. 

“Do you want to know me?” He asked. 

“Yes,” you replied. 

“Good, because I want to know you too,” he said. He sunk back down to his previous position between your legs. He pulled his blindfold down, letting it rest at his neck so his crystal-like eyes were visible. “And right now, I want to know what makes you tick.” 

When Principal Yaga had first told him there would be a new professor from overseas joining them, it hadn’t mattered to him greatly. 

Another teacher? Well that was good. A foreigner? Interesting. 

However, it hadn’t been something he had given much thought to.

So when he first met you at the faulty meeting he had hosted in his apartment, he had been surprised to find out how beautiful you were. You were also young, a little bit younger than him but still so young for someone so well accomplished (yes after your flirtatious encounter where you called his eyes beautiful he had looked you up). 

He must confess, he read your academic articles all thirty of them and he was always finding an excuse to speak to you in the lounge room. 

At last when he hadn’t been able to fight the longing for you anymore, he had waited until after hours, knowing you’d still be on campus. 

“Still here?” He had taunted. 

“I’m not in a big hurry to go home,” you said.

That was interesting to him. Surely a woman like you had someone waiting for her? It was something he had pathetically tried to find the answer to online but had fallen short given your profiles being professional in nature.

Desperate for the answer he continued to tease.

“Lonely at home?” 

God, he could shoot himself in the foot for that one! How incredibly cringe. He was used to getting away with it on account of his good looks, but you were different than most. You didn’t seem to fall easily to his charm. In a way it was humanizing, you didn’t let the veil of his looks and his power get in the way of seeing him for what he was. 

“No. I like being here. You may have been here for a while but I’m still trying to get established.” 

As suspected, you didn’t find his comment charming, answering rather defensively. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said, tugging a strand of your hair and considering it a good sign when you didn’t shoo him away. 

“What are you still doing here anyways?” You asked him. 

His heart was racing from how your eyes looked up at him and he was (not for the first time) grateful that his blindfold kept him shielded for surely he looked like a lovesick schoolboy.

“Because I knew you’d be here,” he said.

“Me?” 

The way you asked so dumbfounded made his heart ache for you more. 

Yes you, he wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell you just how completely unaware you were of the effect you can have. 

Even more so when you allowed him to kiss you, he felt like he was on cloud nine. Your body had felt soft on him, it was everything he had dreamed about, everything he had allowed himself to feel despite his fragile heart being ever so cautious.

“Gojo stop,” you had said suddenly, and to his horror.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. 

You had only made excuses and ran off leaving his fragile heart to shatter into a million pieces. 

“Fuck, Satoru- you’re so good at this,” you moaned, your back arching as you fell back against the mattress. 

He tongued at your folds, lapping at your clit and your arousal as if he was dehydrated and needed it in order to live. 

His fingers spread you open for him, flashing him with your inner pink, the sight nearly sending him into a frenzy. 

Your hands went to his white hair, gripping the locks and using them as an anchor as his tongue continued to pleasure you. 

Your moans were just as pretty as he had imagined and between that and the taste of you, he was determined to make you orgasm hard. 

It didn’t take long for him to find your sweet spot. You were starting to realize that of his mouth had more uses than just teasing and your toes curled. 

“This is where you’re weak, huh?” he said, sensing it from how your grip on his fingers tightened. You felt him curl his fingers up inside of you, continuing to pleasure that new unlocked spot as he leaned forward tongue still sliding down your sensitive clit. 

“Mm- Satoru I’m close,” you warned.

“I know, I know,” he cooed against your skin. 

Continuing that pace and motions, you felt it arising now, the tell tell signs of orgasm and the adrenaline feeling as if you were falling off a cliff. “That’s it, baby, let it go.” 

And you did, coming down from your high as your fluid flooded his tongue. 

You panted and watched as he lapped you clean, relishing the taste. Then, like before, a devious look rose to his crystal eyes. He came up to you, hovering gently above you, hands on the bed to steady himself.

“You should really taste yourself,” he said. Before giving you time to register what he meant, he kissed you and you moaned against his lips. The taste on his lips was sweet yet metallic and it was yours. It was so lewd, the way you enjoyed it, but again the fire of desire was burning for him so you simply indulged in the passionate makeout.

“Want help with that?” you asked, eyes pointed at the bulge in his pants as the kiss broke apart, salvia still connecting the two of you faintly. 

You swore you saw him blush, but having a new found confidence, you didn’t wait for him to answer, fingers shakily undoing his pants. 

“So eager,” he teased, stepping back to fully shrug the pants and his boxers off. His shirt followed after.

His cock was big, bigger than any you had been with, and the head was just as pink as his lips. A forming bud of precum was visible at the tip.”Like what you see?” 

“Very much so,” you admitted. You were ready for him to sink into you, but an expression of concern overtook his face. 

“I don’t have a condom,” he explained, “I know you think I do this a lot but I don't, I don’t just have them on me.” 

You chewed the inside of your cheek. You weren’t exactly on any birth control right now since it had been a while since you were sexually active yourself, but you didn’t want to turn him down. Plus you were aware of where you were in your cycle so the chances of pregnancy would be slim.

“It’s fine, but I’m gonna need a morning after pill just in case,” you stated. 

He seemed to perk up.

“Does that mean I can spend the night?” He asked. It never ceases to amaze you how someone of his stature could still have such a childlike demeanor. 

Oh what harm could it do? You had already made it this far with him.

“Yes,” you conceded. You tried not to think about the fact that he was still technically a coworker and you intrusively wondered how the students would react if they knew the two of you were engaging in such activities. 

“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty little head?” He asked. 

“Nothing I just, we’re still colleagues,” you said. 

He smiled and lined himself up with you, the tip of his cock fettering your entrance.

“And? Colleagues can’t blow a little steam off together every now and then?” 

You gasped feeling him against your slickness, not in yet but only just, still lingering at your entrance.

“That’s not really helping your case of not doing these things with just anyone,” you said. 

He laughed.

“I can assure you before you I had no need or desire to fuck a colleague,” he said. 

Then at last, he began to sink into you. At first only the delicate pink tip, then an inch, then two more, until the full length was bottomed out inside of you. 

“Oh, you feel so full,” you whispered more as an exclamation to yourself but he heard all the same. 

For him, it has always been a fantasy to fuck you in your work clothing, as he had told you before your long skirts offered the illusion of quick access whenever at his disposal. 

He began to thrust lightly, allowing himself to relish all your warm walls. 

“So sexy,” he praised as his pace began to quicken. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and you could feel his pulse beating away inside of you. 

It felt natural being under him like this, almost right as if you were meant to be underneath him like this taking every inch of his impressive rod. 

Although you were no stranger to sex at your age, his thrusting made you feel something you never had before. 

“Fuck me back, you’re a big girl aren’t you?” he teased, his mind probably following your line of thinking.His words emboldened you, and your vaginal grip on his cock tightened, and you began to thrust your hips up to meet his pace. 

You craned your neck a little to watch as his cock went in and out.

He caught you looking. 

“So you like to watch, huh?” his voice was heated. God, he was finding out so much about you. You were just as dirty as him, even if you were usually so well composed. 

“Satoru!” you yelped as he easily lifted you up, bodies still connected and dragged you to the restroom. 

“Oh this is perfect,” he whispered. 

Your bathroom had a large full length mirror and another large mirror above the sinks. Here, no matter where you’d look, you’d be able to see him fucking you. 

“Satoru, can I take my clothes off?” you asked, horrified at the idea of your work clothes getting soiled. 

“I have no objection to that,” he said. He placed you against the countertop, and undid your blouse removing it and your bra. 

Then came your skirt. 

Regrettably, for this he had to slide out of you, but it only took a moment. 

“Face the mirror I want you to be able to watch,” he said.

You did, gripping the counter as he slid into you from the back.

This all felt so surreal. 

Had it only been just this morning that you had burnt yourself? You had still been avoiding him then, now he had you bent over in your own bathroom as he thrusted in and out of your vagina raw from behind. 

You supposed this was what fucking a colleague entailed, it was much more chaotic than in the movies. 

Your eyes caught sight of his face, red and sweaty, eyes closed and turning your head to your side, you saw his length going in and out of you from the reflection in the full length mirror. 

His fingers kneaded the flesh of your ass, and you threw your ass back against him, cheeks enveloping his cock.

“Fuck,” he cursed. 

Your shared moans echoed in the bathroom’s acoustics and it only set him off more. His pace quickened and his hands reached around to cup your breasts, squeezing the sensitive nipples. 

You turned your head and your lips found his, all the while his thrusting and you grinding your ass back against him were bringing you both closer to reaching your peak.

“Satoru-“ you warned, but he seemed to understand.

“I know, I know. I’m cumming too,” he panted. 

Breathing heavily, you felt him shoot his load into you as you came on him, fluids dripping to the floor. 

He gave a shaky laugh.

“Erm- I can clean this up. Don’t worry about it. You should go lay down,” he said after using your hand towel to clean in between your legs. 

Mumbling in agreement, you went back to your room. 

Heart beating fast you tried to reconcile with the fact that you just had sex with a colleague and moreover you had agreed for him to stay the night. It wasn’t that you regretted it, Gojo was many things but a bad lay wasn’t one of them. 

You opened your drawer and quickly changed into a matching lounge set. You heard Gojo humming and moving around in the bathroom as he cleaned up. When he came out, he held your clothes in his hands, still naked himself. He placed your clothes on your bed before going to pick his own up and putting them back on, laughing slightly.

“What’s funny?” you asked. 

“You,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His lower half was covered once again as his boxers and pants came back on. 

“What about me?” You pressed. 

“You’d think after what we just did you wouldn’t be so shy still. It’s cute,” he said, pulling his top on and adjusting it so his v-line was no longer visible. He left his shoes off and when you raised your brows he said “remember I’m staying the night?” 

Of course you remembered. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, shrugging. 

He let out a belly laugh. 

“Why do you keep laughing at me?” you asked, growing frustrated. 

His face softened as he smiled at you fondly. 

“It’s just I don’t think I’ve met someone who is worse at expressing their feelings than me, it’s comforting.” 

Well, he was right in that assessment so you couldn’t help as your lips twitched upwards in a smile of your own. 

If today was going to be his only chance to make a good impression of you, he was going to use it to his full advantage. 

“You know what I always loved to do during snow days? Build a fort and watch movies with hot chocolate.” 

Luckily, you had taken his suggestion well and so he had taken it upon himself to build said fort by maneuvering your furniture and bringing your blankets and pillows over to the living room in front of the tv. 

He was aware of your eyes watching him as he did so. 

“What?” he asked, his hand rubbing the back of his neck self consciously. 

“You’re just different than I expected,” you said genuinely, your voice free of judgment. 

He nodded in understanding, he was used to people having the wrong impression about him. His looks, his talents, which were given to him at birth, all of these were things that shaped how people viewed him. He couldn’t fault you for having thought the same, but it did relieve him that you seemed to be gaining a more comprehensive perspective of him now. 

“I’m gonna make us hot chocolate, you’re still banned from using the kettle after this morning,” he said, making his way to the kitchen and looking through your cupboards. He found the hot chocolate packets and went through the motions of heating up the water again just as he had done for the ramen earlier. 

“Speaking of this morning, you should really apologize to the kids. You were kind of stern with them,” you said, appearing at his side and leaning  against the fridge. 

You looked so beautiful to him in the fluorescent lighting, your lips still puffy from the kisses you had exchanged and your hair tousled. He wanted to freeze this moment and live in it. He could see himself growing old with you and sharing domestic moments such as this. Satoru you poor romantic thing, he thought to himself. He had quite a habit of being a yearner, of letting his feelings consume him. 

It was his biggest flaw.

“Yes, maybe I should. Tomorrow I’ll make sure to do so,” he said. 

He finished preparing the hot chocolate and carrying both mugs he said: “now would you like to choose the first movie?” 

Watching movies with Gojo was peaceful. You each took turns choosing a movie. He preferred comedies and animated movies while you chose cult classics. 

Strangely enough, you felt comfortable with him. His commentary every now and then throughout the movies and the way he laid close to you in the fort, with only your knees brushing past each other occasionally, made you feel like he was trying to put you at ease.

Despite the two of you having sex earlier, he didn’t make any moves to touch you again, and you felt that it was intentional with him leaving the choice up to you. 

After the last movie finished, credits rolling, he turned down the volume before facing you.

“So what’s with you and Nanami?” he asked. 

You could tell from his expression he was trying to seem nonchalant, but his eyes that had remained unblindfolded betrayed him, there was worry in his pretty blues. 

“Nanami? Nothing. He’s just a colleague and I enjoy working with him. Why?” you asked. 

“I just wondered because you chose him to accompany you to see Shoko over me,” he said. There was a long pause before he added, “you know we’re colleagues too.” 

Your face flushed as you understood. 

“I don’t like Nanami like that,” you mumbled, no longer able to meet his eyes. Luckily, he didn’t press you more, your answer being sufficient enough for him. 

You felt him shift besides you until he was no longer on his back but facing towards you. Having had his blindfold still off you were able to notice more of his emotions he usually kept hidden. Now there was a hint of sadness in them, the same sadness you had seen on….

“Satoru, why does Shoko always look sad?” You asked. 

He gave you a wry smile. 

“It’s a long story and I’m sure only Shoko can speak for herself, but I can tell you about it as best as I can.” 

So he did.

He told you the story of three young gifted sorcerers and their ‘blue spring,’ as he had coined the last time the three ever felt a sense of normalcy. The story involved himself, Shoko, and someone named Geto, but mainly it orbited around him and Geto. Gojo told you of the mission they had failed at, to keep a young girl named Riko alive since she was the Star Plasma Vessel. You could tell by how he spoke of it that he felt largely responsible, especially since he hadn’t rested as much as he should have. 

“But that wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have possibly known about Toji and he was strategic so you’d never see him coming,” you said. 

“Maybe but it’s my fault for not noticing after how Geto changed. It affected him more than me in a way because of his ability to absorb curses. All that negative energy and the way it made him feel especially after he was jaded by the fact that non sorcerers couldn’t care less about sorcerers who protect them.”

Feeling that this was the first time he had opened up about this, you turned your body to face him as well and took his hand in your own squeezing it for support. 

“Maybe you didn’t notice it because he kept it to himself? You can’t fault yourself for that,” you said.

“Or maybe he didn’t tell me because of who I am, who I was born into being and my abilities. You know I’ve never known what it’s like to feel weak to feel truly powerless? Sometimes I don’t even feel human.” 

You felt a twinge of guilt for having thought he was some sort of womanizer, after what he had told you, that seemed so far out from the truth. It was clear he wore his heart on his sleeve and that it was his nature but he was guarded, even felt isolated because of the magnitude of his strength.

“I don’t think that’s fully true. Maybe in terms of power and your cursed energy but what you described: regret, guilt, and loneliness. All those things are very human,” you said. He smiled at you, and it reached his eyes so you figured your words had been of some comfort to him. 

“In a way Shoko probably feels more regret than I do, though I can’t be certain,” he explained to address your original question. 

“How so?” you asked. 

“Shoko’s ability is to heal. Curses destroy, people get hurt, and she heals. It is the same over and over and after a while you can start to wonder if there’s a point, if there is an end to the cycle.”

“Just like Geto did,” you finished for him, making the connection. 

He nodded. 

You laid there in silence for a while, listening to the gentle sound of his breathing. 

“Why me?” you asked, finally asking the question that has been the source of your previous resistance to him. 

“You’re beautiful, I thought so the moment I saw you. In truth it was after reading your published articles that I wanted to know you more. I felt like you’d understand me. You know your article analyzing Shakespeare's King Henry?” 

You nodded. How could you forget? It had been a pain to publish through all the hurdles of academia. 

“There was one line from the play you wrote about and it really stuck with me,” he said. He waited as if he wanted you to guess which line it was, and instinctively you knew.

“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”

You don’t remember falling asleep or making it to your bed but when you wake up with the warmth of the sunlight kissing your face you immediately sit up as you remember the previous day's events. Your blankets having been used for the fort were draped back around you. 

A glance at your bedside tells you that Gojo had been to the store already, the morning after pill box sitting there waiting for you to take with a glass of water next to it. You go through the motions of taking it and then follow the scent of bacon and eggs to your kitchen. 

Gojo is there, cooking breakfast and his blindfold is back on. 

“Good morning,” he says, seeing you linger at the entrance. 

“Satoru, what time is it? It’s so bright out,” you asked, going to sit at the kitchen island. 

“A little past noon. Shhh don’t worry. Classes are canceled for today again so I turned your alarm off,” he said, setting a plate of food in front of you alongside a cup of orange juice.

“I don’t remember falling asleep,” you said, biting into the fat of the bacon. 

He laughed.

“Yeah you went out like a light. I think it’s my fault we spent the whole day watching movies and I trauma dumped on you,” he said. 

He sat down next to you with his own plate of food and orange juice. 

At his words, you briefly remember strong arms carrying you to bed, lingering lips on your forehead and a gentle kiss on your skin. 

“Did you sleep here last night?” you asked him remembering how he had wanted to spend the night with you.

“I did. I slept on the couch. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he explained. You nodded, yet a part of you was worried. Would you two go back to formalities? After everything the two of you had done and shared yesterday you couldn’t phantom that possibility. Fortunately he felt the same way. 

“Listen, the kids told me they are gonna have another snowball fight today before all the snow melts up. They asked me if I wanna join and I want you to come with me,” he said. 

You finished eating and looked at him. 

“I’d like that,” you replied. 

His hand reached for yours and he interlocked the fingers with you. 

“I want to be your man, if you’ll have me. I know we’re still getting to know each other but I can see myself spending forever with you,” he said, his cheeks were rosy.

“I want to be with you too. Forever is a long time,” you said. 

“I know so let’s start with now and we’ll lead our way into forever,” he said. 

When he leaned forward to kiss you, you didn’t deny him, savoring the taste of him and bacon grease. 

#gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fanfic #jjk oneshot #satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo fluff

[multific]

Modern Warfare Men with a Housewife - Preferences

Simon Riley, John MacTavish, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Kyle Garrick, König x Fem! Reader

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

Simon Riley

The thought of going back home and you are just there is enough to keep him going for months.

He loved the idea of having someone home at all times, during the hard times, he would just need to imagine you in your shared house, curled up on the couch, watching a movie. It was enough for him.

But coming home and actually being there is everything.

He always gets this feeling in his stomach as he drives home, fear. The fear of finding an empty home or worse, a burnt-down home.

But each time, the house is still there, with you inside.

Each time you would run into his arms and kiss him. Each time you would tell him to eat something because you cooked.

Because of course, you cooked.

Johnny MacTavish

When you met Johnny you had a nice job, you were overly fond of it, but you did have one. But after your marriage, Johnny asked you to stay home. He explained he earned enough, you wouldn’t have to worry. He said it was so that he can be sure you are safe.

And how can you say no when he is asking so nicely?

You noticed just how much calmer he was after you agreed. But you also noticed that there was nothing to keep your mind truly busy when he wasn’t home.

You began to worry a lot for his safety and feared that any phone call or letter you received might be bad news.

But he always came home to you.

You even learned how to cook the dishes he enjoys the most. He would often call you “Little Wife” which was a very cute nickname, you thought.

Kyle Garrick

It wasn’t fully his idea for you to stay home and stop working. It just… happened. 

He adopted a cat, which couldn’t be left alone while he was gone, then you got married and you quit your job which you hated.

But Kyle loved it.

You would send him pictures of you and your cat, Cinnamon.

Kyle loved to arrive home to a warm house and your smile.

John Price

John is a very cautious man.

He has probably five houses each location confidential, so much so, that you don’t even know half of their actual place.

But let’s be honest, he would be upfront and tell you that he wants you to stay home long before you marry him.

He would let you choose a house and give you everything you want.

John would come home to you, smelling of cigars, gunpowder and death.

But you never tell him that you know. You let him shower while you prepare a simple meal for him.

Alejandro Vargas

He probably has a huge family, I can see his mother being a housewife herself. So he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of you being one, but if you want a job, he wouldn’t mind that either.

So when you ultimately decided to stay home, he wasn’t fully on board. He wanted you to have everything in his absence. 

And when he was gone, he was worried, he hated to leave you alone. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be wearing his ring proudly. He was a proud husband, and you were hidden, even with the ring, no one would find you if anything happened.

But nothing ever did.

Alejandro always came home to you, asked you to join him in a hot bath, and neither of you would put on any clothes after.

König

He actually begged you to stay home and work from home. Later on, you decided to take over the house and became a full-on housewife.

He had a huge house even before you married him, so the home became your DIY project very early.

It did help to keep your mind off of him not being home, you always had a room to decorate, paint or rearrange to your liking. It became your project that each time he left, you did one room so that when he came home, he could be surprised.

König is a huge man with many years of experience in the military which did make him into a hard man.

But with you, he could be so soft and kind. 

Much like how he was when he arrived home after every mission.

He loved to come home, seeing you sleeping in your bed or on the couch, it would fill him with warmth.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

#x reader #x female reader #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #könig x reader #modern warfare fanfic #modern warfare two #modern warfare fanfiction #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare x you #simon riley x you

[mayullla]

Title: Princess rescued by the hero

Character(s): Hero (Named character/original work)

Summary: A Hero arrived to save you yet you could not help but fear him more than the villain.

Tags/Warnings: Princess!reader, male!yandere, general yandere themes, implied manipulation, drabble: 680 words

It was a classic tale of a princess, a hero, and a villain. The princess was taken away from her home and family by the villain, only to be trapped within an old and dusty castle, and later saved by a hero.

You thought that they were just stories, nothing more.

Your captor was a man who knew how to use both dark magic and the sword. His subordinates were monsters and shadows that he created to rule over the kingdoms and nations. You wondered what you had done to catch the eyes of such a man, but in the end, there was always a hero.

Someone who would save you from the grasp of the wicked man…

"Thank you for saving me." It was hard for you to breathe as you stood in front of the ruined halls of the old castle and stared at the hero's face. The man who saved you placed a hand on his chest as he got down on one knee along with his team. You couldn't see his face as he looked down, bowing at you in a respectful manner. "You are now safe, princess."

Maybe it was best that you didn't see his face, you thought to yourself as you looked at the hero and his group.

You were still conscious of what happened in the fight. Your hands shivered at the thought when the dark lord turned into a dragon to kill the hero’s group, only to die at the hands of the hero who stabbed his sword into the monster’s chest.

You looked to your side to see the dead dark lord who took you away from your home, or what was left of him. He had turned into nothing but a burnt corpse consumed by the flames that he made.

The fight was still fresh in your mind, the spells that were cast on both sides from the dark lord himself and a wizard from the hero's group. Arrows flew at both sides in such a small space, and the crashes of swords still rang in your ears.

"What is your name? I need to know the hero who saved me." You spoke, holding on to whatever little pride you had. Holding yourself back from stuttering after everything you have gone through till now.

"My name is Vale," he said, his head still down. You didn't want to see his face. You were grateful truly that you were saved, and able to return home, but you could not help but become suspicious of the hero.

The hero who saved you was someone you feared.

"Thank you, Sir Vale, for killing the dark lord and saving me from him," you said as you lowered yourself down to take the man's hand, telling him to stand up and asking him if he was okay. “I will not forget you and your group's sacrifices.”

You didn't have any pity for the dark lord, for he was the one who destroyed homes and killed many. You weren't sympathetic to his death. But the moment when the hero stabbed the dark lord in the chest, the determined look on his face held something else.

You avoided the hero's eyes. Avoided looking at the blood splatter on his clothes. You could not help but wonder if there was something that you didn't know here. His eyes held a certain kind of insanity within them. The overconfidence of knowing that he would win as if this whole scenario was staged from the start.

A stage that was to reach a goal.

And you knew that this had something to do with you. When your eyes met his, you were sure of it as he held your hand tightly, warning but also clinging. The love in his eyes was crazed as he looked at you with so much passion. You were familiar with those eyes of his even before he became a hero, and tried to avoid him. Was he the one who created this stage, you wondered by yourself.

You were a fool, as you have placed yourself right on his hand.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #tw yandere #yandere writing #yandere oneshot #yandere x reader #yandere hero #yandere oc #yandere original character #yanderecore #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere boy #yandere blog #yandere concept #yandere drabble #yandere thoughts #male yandere

[pigeonpeach]

Mother and Father moments.

Aka more mommy reader x Arlecchino! This time with comfort!

Perhaps you sometimes forget your husband is a harbinger. She’s just so kind to the chikdren at times. Your presence has helped her become more patient and gentle with them. You had been with her for awhile now. Lynette and Lyney had grown up into full on adults, going on missions leaving you to worry. But they came back each time. As your original set of kids grew so did the dangers. You knew they were raised for this yet your heart still hurts at the thought. Unfortunately some didn’t make it. Some may think its hard to care for so many children emotionally but it didn’t matter to you, you felt hurt when they were. Each and every one of them you raised and cared for became your child in their eyes. Lucky your husband despite not being the most emotional vulnerable still let you cry over each. Her gentle whispers reassuring that it was not your fault.

She knows your heart, she knows its that empathy and vulnerability that strengthens your bond with the children, sometimes she envies that. But she still tries to make up for it to the best she can.

So when The twins and Freminet were imprisoned you became worrisome. She with held that it was for a mission because she knew you would demand to join them. Still she held you.

“Could I send tea bags to Lynette? Letters? Oh god poor Freminet he always loves diving! He can’t dive anywhere!” You paced as you were planning a gift to be sent. She watched you with a smile.

“I assure you they will be fine. They’re barely serving a few months for a petty crime that likely won’t end up on their record. They have each other afterall. You know Lyney, he will not let any of them get hurt.” She said calmly,

“Still he’s my boy and I worry about him!” You say panicked.

“And the prophecy! Oh god they’re so far down underwater they wouldn’t have a way out!” You paced even more as her smile faded.

“My love,” she held you in her arms making you still, “I assure you, everything will be okay. They’ll be back when their sentence is over, and they’ll have all sorts of stories to tell. Freminet can handle himself, and Lyney is a good protector of the two. They will be fine. As for the prophecy, I have my own methods ready.” She said kissing the back of your neck. You sighed as you finally calmed down.

“You’re right. I need to relax..” you say melting into her touch. “I just… oh I can’t help it. Lyney was the first to call me mom.” Arlecchino smiled as you looked at one of the baby pictures of the twins.

“You’re always their mother. With you waiting here I’m sure they’ll strive to make it back.” She says calmly.

“They better.” You huff. “That Wriothesley better be kind to my kids otherwise-“

“Relax dear. Don’t think anymore about the impossible. Besides, I’m sure they’ll be treated as any other prisoner is. Afterall, Fontaine is currently under alot of pressure, I’m sure he wouldn’t be confident enough to pull a stunt like that.” She says. “And if he did, then I’ll handle it.” You sigh in relief as she holds you closer to herself.

“You’re right I know I know.”

“If you would like you can send them a letter. Of course you can’t send any gifts but you’re more than welcome to wri-“ Arlecchino stopped as she watched you pick up a pen and looked for a piece of paper. “Here.” She handed you a piece. Quickly you started to write down your thoughts as she smiled behind you. “You should slow down. They might not be able to read your writing otherwise.”

“You’re sure i can’t send gifts? Not even a blanket? Oh Lynette hates being cold! That place must be so cold too, so far down under the sea.. oh my poor baby.” You moped.

“I’m certain there’s accomdations for such. I doubt they’d let their staff down their freeze. Besides I hear it can actually get too hot down there.”

“But what about Freminet then! He isn’t good handling intense heat. He burnt his hand on the kettle once and he’s never trusted them since. He always uses a oven mitt or glove even when its not necessary.” Your fingers tapped worriedly.

“Darling please try to not assume the worst. Our children are not hostages right now. They simply are being disciplined for a small amount of time. Their sentences are only two or so months.” She repeated trying to soothe you. You pouted even more.

“Still I’ll miss them. I even bought a new dessert book to try and make some for Lynette. She always comes by to visit when I even imply there’s new desserts. She’s become my little taste tester.” You smile. “She doesn’t smile but her tail wags impatiently when she sees me preparing a new sweet.”

“You know them so well.” She smiles and brushes your hair, helping to alleviate some tension held within your shoulders. “I’m sure they miss you too. You know they wouldn’t want you to worry so much about them.”

“I’m aware. Still I love them all so much.. it hurts that I cannot protect them all from everything in life.” You lift your head to look at her as her arm rests on your waist.

“I know my dear. Its why you’re the finest choice for me.” She kisses you. “Now just relax and I’ll write the letter for you.”

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #domestic fluff #comfort #slight death but not of named characters #arlecchino is so hot please step on me #arlecchino x y/n #alrecchino #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x reader #pls come home now arlecchino #arlechinno genshin #wlw x reader