#i couldn’t think of more eloquent words to describe how i love them other than ‘well theyre hot!! LOL

[trinaenigma]

How did Dimileth capture your heart?

OH BOY!

first off, they’re both really hot LMFAO.

second, on a more serious note, they are so supportive of each other. byleth never gave up on dimitri even when he hit rock bottom, and it’s obvious that it really meant a lot to him. it is the perfect amount of angst and rawness for me.

also their proposal to each other is SO cute i had to rewatch their s-support real quick while typing this HEHE.

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

a remus lupin smut after the full moon where reader takes care of him and it’s just soft and sweet and nice <3

pairing: young remus lupin x reader 

warning(s): 18+, handjob, so much fluff

word count: 1.4k 

a/n: this one kinda made me sad to write and i couldn’t stop thinking about atyd the whole time. i just wish remus got all the love he deserved. 

“Everything hurts,” Remus mumbled into his pillow, laying on his stomach, finally able to lay down after his long trek up to the Gryffindor Tower. The both of you were laying on his bed, curtains pulled with a silencing charm in place so the other boys wouldn’t hear you muffled conversation. 

The full moon was last night and, as always, Madam Pomfrey kept him in the Hospital Wing for the day to make sure he was alright. He had slept most of the day, but you could tell your boyfriend was still exhausted and in pain. 

It was like this after every full moon since he had told you about his lycanthropy. Just you and him in his tiny twin bed, curtains drawn and just in your own world. It was what he needed, he had told you once. Just you to hold him and be there with him after a terrible night. Even with the boys joining him, it wasn’t an enjoyable experience. You were just happy to be of some comfort to him.

“Maybe a massage would help?” You asked, lightly stroking his arm as you laid with him. Anything you could do after the full moon to help him, you would. It was a promise you had made yourself immediately after he told you about his ‘furry little problem’ as the boys so eloquently named it. You knew it was a major step for him to take with you, and you would do your best to make sure he was okay at all costs. 

“That sounds nice, love,” he said, giving you a small smile but you could see the tension he held in his eyes. 

“Do you want to take your shirt off or leave it on?” You asked gently, maneuvering your body so you were straddling his waist. You felt him tense underneath you, barely breathing. That was never good. “Re?” 

“Ther- There’s another scar,” he said into the pillow. It was muffled but you heard him loud and clear. You took a deep breath bur pressed on. 

“Can I lift your shirt so I can see it? I just want to be careful,” you told him softly, trying to keep him as comfortable as possible. You knew he hated his scars, but you always made it a point to give them love. Every last one of them. You saw him nod into the pillow and you slowly dragged his shirt up his back until it was tucked under his armpits. 

There was an ugly scar across the bottom of his back, still red and healing. Madam Pomfrey had clearly applied Dittany to it, but it would most likely take the week to heal. 

“Thank you,” you said softly and immediately began digging your fingers into his shoulders. 

He tensed and relaxed under you whenever you hit a new spot. You worked out knot after knot, slowly trailing down his back as you went. Your own hands were tense by the time you finished, but it was worth it because he was not boneless against the sheets. For a moment his shallow breathing made you believe he was asleep, but he stirred to reach his hand out for you. 

You took his hand and fell down on the bed beside him. He was looking at you with a small smile again, but this time the smile reached his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, shifting his body so you were lying face to face. 

“Anytime,” you replied, brushing him off easily. You didn’t want him to make a big deal about your acts of service. He deserved them just like anyone else. Hopefully one day he’d realize it. 

You leaned in for a soft kiss which quickly turned heated, but he eventually pulled away, knowing he was in no shape for sex tonight. It didn’t stop you from looking down though, just in case. And just as you suspected, there was a prominent bulge in his sweatpants, just the outline of it making your mouth water. Werewolf or not, he was still just your horny boyfriend at the end of the day. 

“I can take care of that for you too if you want,” you said with a small smirk, nodding your head in the direction of his pants. 

“You don’t have to. We should probably just go to bed anyways,” he argued lightly, the tips of his ears turning pink at the knowledge that you had noticed his little problem. 

“Well I’m certainly not letting you go to bed uncomfortable. So yes or no?” You asked him simply. 

He gave you a quick nod, making you smile in return. You brought your lips back to his, locking him in a heated kiss, while you hand trailed down to his bulge. You palmed him for a moment, but shortly moved to pull down the front of his sweatpants only to find out he wasn’t wearing underwear. This man was out to kill you. 

You pulled his cock out his pants and gave it a quick stroke, making his hips stutter against your hand. You pulled your hand and lips away from him at the same time, bringing your hand up to lick a strip of spit onto it. He let out a groan watching you, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Your hand returned to his cock and he quickly pulled you back into a kiss. You started with slow strokes, bringing him to full hardness, before you sped up slightly. You wanted to keep things slow so as to not over excite him, but you also wanted to get him off. You were at the perfect speed to do both with a little bit on time. 

He left out a low moan into your mouth when you twisted your hand the way he liked which you swallowed up greedily. You moved your hand the same way again just to hear him make more noise. You loved how vocal he could be when you had your hands on him like this. 

You stayed steady like that for a few minutes, slowly moving him along to his release. Finally you felt his body tense and he said, “I’m gonna - fuck, Y/N”. 

You felt his cock twitch right before he spilled into your hand. You worked him through it until he was boneless once more on the bed and slowly backing his hips away from you. Once you were content that he was thoroughly finished, you gave him one last peck on the lips before moving for your wand to clean the both of you up. 

“I’m sorry I can’t return the favor,” he said once he got his breath back. 

“You’ll make it up to me. I know you,” you said, a smile growing on your face. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he mumbled, burying his face into your chest. 

“Good thing I’m never leaving, hm?” You replied with a giggle. 

You expected him to make some witty response like he normally would, but when his head shot up with a look of concern in his eyes, you paused. “Please don’t,” he begged silently. 

Your heart broke just looking at him. This boy who you loved with your entire being, more than words could ever describe, was begging you to never leave him because he was infinitely ashamed of what he was. You never cared what he was, you only ever wanted him. You could almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but looking in his eyes again stopped you. 

“I’m never leaving. I promise. Even if you try to push me away I won’t leave. You’re mine and I’m yours. Forever. I promise,” you told him, your eyes never leaving his. 

You felt the relief fill his body and watched his eyes light up. “I love you,” he said, his voice raw with the emotions that he was trying to hold back. 

“I love you too, Re. So much. Now get some rest please. You need it,” you said, giving him a quick kiss to his forehead before you rested your head against his pillows. 

He didn’t put up a fight this time. Most of the time he did, trying his best to convince you he was fine until he couldn’t hide it anymore. But tonight he simply put his head back down on your chest and got comfortable, his arms looping their way around your body to hold you close and make sure you stayed there all night. 

You stayed awake until you heard his breathing out and his soft snores begin. You fell asleep with a small smile on your face, surrounded by Remus and the scent of him, just knowing tomorrow would be a better day for the both of you.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xiv.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 690

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello!!!! we’re here at fourteen chapters omg ✨✨when i first started this series it was mostly self-indulgent and now there are people who actually enjoy reading it??🥺 it almost doesn’t seem real T.T 

thank you so much for the love and support!!! just so I don't give too much spoilers for this chap - I apologise to my fellow geminis for the potential slander 🤣 this is more of a self-drag lmaooo 

anyway, I hope you enjoy this chap!!!

“Ah. I’m getting allergies.” Yena sniffs, scrunching her nose.

You furrow your brows in concern, “Are you okay? Do you need any medicine?”

“It’s just the seasonal changes,” She brushes you off.

You nod in understanding, “I get it. My mom has horrible reactions towards pollen so—”

“I’m not allergic to flowers.” She blinks.

“Then what—?”

“It’s Gemini season. It’s like—literally the worst time of the year.” She blinks.

You gawk at her, taking a whole ten seconds to process her serious tone when she doesn’t waver under your scrutiny.

“I’m a Gemini,” You inform her slowly.

“I mean …” She shrugs all as you scowl at her, opting to throw the closest object you had, which was your favourite pen so you decide against it; simply shooting her the meanest glare you could possibly muster.

“Look, it’s not you,” She sighs, and you’re half-expecting her to finish with an it’s me to make you scoff, “It’s me.” And there you go. “I mean, it’s Gemini’s in general because they’re two-faced bitches who have the worst emotional attachment issues. Like they’re literally what the opposite of glue is. And they’re so over-analytical. How is it like psychoanalysing every person you meet only to hurt your own feelings and sulk about it?”

You blink.

“I mean it’s not you but if the shoe fits.” She says casually, plopping a grape into her mouth that you’re tempted to slap away.

“You’re so mean!” You pout indignantly.

She cackles, throwing her head back as you continue to sulk. You weren’t that bad. You just … you were risk-averse! You liked having the freedom to observe everyone and anyone and package them into tiny compartments in your head so you could understand them better. You weren’t … that Gemini.

“You’re so cute,” She coos pinching your cheeks. “No wonder Beef One and Beef Two like you so much.” She teases.

Your first reaction is to blush because you know who exactly she’s talking about, but you have more pressing matters, like—

“You have nicknames for them?” You ask, baffled.

“Hey, I wasn’t friends with many girls in high school. Don’t girls usually have nicknames for their crushes?” She says through a pout.

You stay expressionless as you try to gauge the level of seriousness you can extract from her tone.

You realise she’s dead serious.

“Yeah, but we’re in college,” You argue, scrunching your nose, “And sides’, it’s not like they’re strangers. We know them.”

She rolls her eyes, waving you off like you were the inconvenience here. Then she leans forward, her eyes twinkling as she takes a complete one-eighty that you try to adjust to.

“So … you Gemini hoe, what’s your plans?” She nudges you.

You raise a brow, “Did you just call me a—?”

“Plans, ___. Stay on track.” She scolds.

You sigh, still fond but you pretend to be annoyed. You really couldn’t get annoyed with Yena. After all, the more time you spend with her the more you realise how much life sucked before you had her in your life. You spent each moment learning more about her quirks and habits, her choice of words that made you giggle or laugh until you were crying.

And you realise that this is how she loves, a little rough but welcomed nonetheless.

“If you’re talking about my birthday then … not much. I’m probably stuck doing admin work for the college’s charity programme.” You shrug, stabbing a fork into your soiled salad.

Yena gapes at you, “Not much—excuse me? It’s your birthday! You’re turning twenty-five!” 

You look at her dryly, “I’ve been twenty-five since the year—”

She groans, “That’s not the same! You’re like—officially twenty-five. You’re literally hitting the mark for a quarter-life crisis. Isn’t that something to celebrate?” 

“Me going through an existential crisis at the end of my degree is not how I want to celebrate my birthday but okay,” You blink.

She rolls her eyes at your realism.

“That’s not the point. Point is, this is our first birthday together and I want it to be special.” She points out.

You snort, “What? Are we doubling my birthday as our monthsary or something?”

She shoves you with a brute force that has you snickering but she continues to pester you anyway.

“You’re so dumb. So smart, but so dumb,” She shakes her head, “You’re always studying or doing some form of work that requires the use of more than one brain cell. You deserve a break. Besides, you have two dudes to pick from on how you’d like to be wined and dined and—”

“Yena!” You whine.

“—it’ll be like an episode of the Bachelorette! But just with a super cool and smart best friend that’ll make the decision for you. It’s not your birthday. It’s ours.” She emphasises towards the end.

You stare at her for a long second, before the two of you are bursting into laughter at the absurdity of her statement. 

It was nice, just to laugh about things without having your heart feel so heavy. Even if it was a mild distraction, it was still wholly pleasant to be able to just talk about mindless things that didn’t require much mental gymnastics to navigate the conversation with.

“What are the two of you laughing about?” Taehyung and Jimin arrive at impeccable timing, sliding into the booth with their own packaged food. It’s very college-student-esque, a cute paper (because no plastic) container filled with an array of assortments.

“None of your XY chromosomes business.” Yena retorts.

Jimin blinks, “You are literally so hostile.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be.” She sticks her tongue out petulantly.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder, “Be nice.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but manages to keep a civil smile on his face. Always the more rational one between the two. 

“Anyway, Yena definitely isn’t going to answer me so, what’s up?” He turns to look at you.

You roll your eyes but it’s half-hearted, “She wants to celebrate my birthday like we’re on the Bachelorette.”

“Like you’re on the Bachelorette.” She corrects.

“Oh my God, our baby’s turning twenty-five!” Jimin coos at the reminder, pinching your cheeks as he coddles you. You scowl and weakly shove him away, even if you preen under the attention.

“I’m literally older than the both of you.” You huff.

Yena blinks, “There’s no way I’m the oldest person at this table.”

Taehyung furrows his brows, “Wait—how old are you?”

She sends him a scathing glare that has his arms raised up in defence.

“Jeez, okay. Don’t answer.”

“I’m going to answer because you told me not to.” She clips. “I’m twenty-seven.”

Jimin blinks, “No wonder you and Yoongi hyung are so alike.”

You almost miss it, but as Yena so eloquently pointed out, you were a sucker for psychoanalysing people (even if you didn’t want to admit it yet) that you notice the way she flushes ever so slightly as she scoffs.

“Him? How dare you compare me to that sorry excuse of a—!”

“Okay, everyone is beneath you. I’m sorry your highness.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

You make a note to ask her about it because you know for a fact that Yoongi ‘complains’ about Yena every hour he can. It’s almost as if he can’t go long enough without mentioning her.

You smile to yourself as you duck your head.

“Exactly,” She flips her hair over her shoulders before turning to face you. “Anyway, back to you—our baby.”

Taehyung nods, “Exactly, the baby.”

You scrunch your nose, “Don’t coddle me.”

He pats your head before cooing at you like he would to an actual baby, “But you’re just so cute. You’re too good for this shitty world. Too good for the likes of mere mortals like us.”

“Not me.” Yena blinks before gesturing to their bodies, “You.”

Jimin sticks his tongue out in retaliation as you sigh at their never-ending bickering.

Somehow … it felt right. You think it most of the times but you don’t know any other way to describe how it feels to be back with your friends, laughing, bickering and just appreciating their presence.

When you and Jungkook had your issues, it was like you made the conscious choice to avoid everyone and anyone as much as you could, and any interaction you had during that period was purely out of coincidences and not the intention. You remember actively avoiding Jimin and Taehyung because it felt too draining to pretend like you didn’t have a battle in your head. Even studying or spending time with Namjoon made you feel guilty, the thought of Jungkook lingering in your mind. Yena was there through it all, but even then you saw her as much as you did with any of your classmates you so happened to share a class with.

In fact, if it weren’t for Yena you’d probably have zero social interactions as a whole because she just knew. She somehow picked up on your internal conflicts but never outwardly shamed you or confronted you about it. All she did was be there for you, offering you her presence and you were grateful.

So, yeah. Things were better, but your heart was still at its core—confused. Your feelings for Jungkook didn’t disappear overnight and you knew that you were the one that asked for space.

You forgave him … you did, honestly. But there are things you can’t forget, and those are the things that you wished you could. The words he said in principle, was outright shitty. But the fact that it came from him only poked at every single one of your insecurities that you developed over the years.

You knew it wasn’t healthy to compare yourself to other women when they were living vastly different lives than you were, but it’s proven difficult when you’re forced to see these type of women every day, at college, in your community work or on the media. 

Believing Jungkook’s apparent feelings for you was harder because, well. Jungkook was Jungkook. He wasn’t just another guy, and despite his shortcomings, he had more merits than he’d let on and you knew that people saw that. It was also the fact that Jungkook had a charm that drew all types of people in. He was soft-spoken but passionate, and people loved a quiet achiever.

You … knew about the women. Way before Jennie and way before the thing between the two of you happened. Jimin and Taehyung would always update you about the new fling or girl he had tied to his hip just as he was in his final year in high school. You had to force a smile every single time they’d snicker and joke about how your Jungkook suddenly became a man overnight.

And you noticed the trend with the women he liked. They were … captivating. Beautiful wasn’t even enough to describe them because they looked like they could carry the world on their shoulders and spark immense change with just the movement of their lips. They were confident and charismatic, outgoing and just the right amount of flirty. You were anything but.

It sucked, majorly, because you spent years agonising over the fact that you were already coined with the older sister title in the group because of the way you acted—just a little more uptight than the average woman your age. You were quiet but loud in the right company; you didn’t like crowds, socialising or mingling around with people you didn’t know and based on your observations it seemed like that was the only thing that Jungkook’s been doing ever since he made it to senior year in high school, and even in the first years of college.

You don’t resent him, you think. You couldn’t blame him because you weren’t honest either. You consented, to all of the kisses and touches even if he hadn’t officially had sex with you. You wanted to, but you were terrified. Not at the prospect of penetration but at the prospect of not being enough and the fact that Jungkook was the only person you wanted to have sex with while he had options that were far more attractive and experienced than you were.

That’s why you needed time because at least you could get your shit together even if it was an uphill battle.

“Earth to ____?” Taehyung waves a hand in front of your face with a concerned expression.

You blink, snapping out of your daze as you offer a meek smile and an apology.

“We just asked you if you wanted a small get together at Tae’s and I’s place for your birthday?” Jimin asks.

“Really?” You beam. That was exactly what you preferred.

“Yeah, we know you don’t like clubs and stuff. Just a small and intimate gathering with all your best buds.” He grins.

You nod your head, but Yena beats you to a response.

“By best buds you mean the three friends she has, which is us and the two meatheads duelling for her affection.” She snorts.

You flush, “Y-Yena!”

Taehyung snickers at your embarrassment.

“It doesn’t help that both of them are literally the biggest dudes on the football team. It’s literally like watching King Kong and Godzilla getting into a fight for world domination.”

Jimin throws his back in laughter as you fold your arms across your chest at post at the way your friends are practically crying in laughter at the image. Jimin was clutching onto Taehyung for his dear life because if he didn’t then he’d fall off the chair.

“Stop,” You whine, “you guys are being mean.”

“Oh my God, you’re literally the only person on this earth that would take two people fighting for your attention as an offence.” Taehyung groans.

“I-It’s not that!” You deny exasperatedly, “I-It’s just … awkward …”

Jimin sighs with a small smile, patting your head.

“If it’s any consolation I think it’s offensive that Jungkook thinks he even has the right to breathe in—”

“Jimin!”

“Wow. It really is like King Kong and Godzilla.” Jimin whistles lowly, eyeing the scene before him with amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Do you think they’re gonna start slamming their chests soon or …?” Taehyung trails off in a whisper, leaning into Jimin so that the two other men wouldn’t notice.

“I can literally hear you.” You say dryly.

Jimin offers you a plastic smile, “You’re meant to hear us, babe. How about you try to tame them like Jane did with Tarzan?”

Jimin nearly shrieks when you shove him so fiercely that he topples over into Taehyung’s grasp as the second part of the duo only catches him in the process. 

You sigh, completely ignoring the way that Jimin’s muttering curses that were directed to you under his breath. Instead, you were transfixed on the scene before you—which specifically is Jungkook and Namjoon staring each other down through the mirror of the gym. You were lucky that it was just the five of you since Namjoon was able to use his captain privileges to book the gym because you had no idea how to explain the fact that two big-sized men were attempting to outdo each other in their circuit reps as if they were on a suicide mission.

“Listen, when I agreed to help you out with your sets I thought I was meant to help log it in for a report.” You exasperate, but the two men continue their manly lift-off as they huff and puff their exertion away.

“Trust me, you are helping. Being the motivation is more than—”

This time it’s Taehyung who faces your wrath as you thwack him upside the head. 

From where Jungkook and Namjoon were, Jungkook can only deliver death stares into the direction of his captain who returns it tenfold. He wasn’t even sure why they were doing this but something a flicked definitely switched in Jungkook when Namjoon (purposefully) revealed that you were helping out with something. At the gym. Supposedly alone.

Jungkook’s primitive side came out because the next thing Namjoon knew was that Jungkook managed to drag himself, and Jimin and Taehyung as a diversion. He still feels his chest swell with pride when recalling the scowl on Namjoon’s face when he entered the gym, all fake smiles and a pep in his step.

“____, could you help me spot?” Namjoon breathes, sitting up from whatever the hell he was doing with the barbell. You weren’t fixated with gym language and you weren’t even sure why he was asking you when there was an entire Jimin and Taehyung right next to you.

“Uh, okay sure—“

“Noona,” Jungkook calls.

You freeze.

“Jungkook … I thought we established that you don’t need to call me that anymore.” You raise an eyebrow.

You miss the obvious glare that Namjoon shoots his bitchass friend, as well as the snorts that leave Jimin and Taehyung’s mouth.

“Pay attention to me,” Jungkook pouts. Like, actually pouts. You somehow flush because he seemed so much like the younger version of Jungkook who used to always coddle you for attention.

“Okay but after I help—”

“Yeah. After she helps me.” Namjoon interjects, and you nearly jump at the way he’s suddenly behind you, more so—pressed against your back with his hands on your hips as he moves you aside to get to another piece of equipment.

Your breath hitches because while you weren’t exactly invested in Namjoon in the romantic sense, he was undeniably attractive and … big. You could salivate in private.

“Oh my God, do you see that?” Taehyung hisses in a hushed whisper.

“Hyung is petty,” Jimin gawks.

“This is Namjoon we’re talking about. Didn’t he steal all the umbrellas from your dorm because you ratted him out to the librarian when he broke a bookshelf?” Taehyung recalls.

Jimin pauses to retract his mind to that moment.

“He’s so petty and I’m living for it. Look at Kook’s face,” He snickers, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder.

Jungkook only can clench his jaw in return because he knew that you wouldn’t be a fan of him reaching out to strangle the shit out of Namjoon. But the older boy seems fine, if not pleased with how Jungkook’s fuming in his own spot.

“Let me just …” You cock a thumb to Namjoon, before releasing a breath of your own and going to help him with whatever he needed in the first place.

“Jimin can help him. I have a more pressing problem.” He complains.

You stop in your tracks before turning around, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook who finally sits up, still staring at you like you held all the solutions in the world.

“Literally wait for your turn,” Namjoon scowls.

“My arm hurts,” Jungkook says, raising his arm to show you. 

“I don’t … see anything?” You furrow your brows.

“Because my muscles hurt, Noona,” Jungkook emphasises with a flex of his bicep and you can feel yourself get hot in the way your eyes can’t stray away.

You’re momentarily distracted by the blatant display of muscle by Jungkook that you completely miss the way that Jimin and Taehyung are struggling to breathe because of how hard they’re stifling their laughter or the way that Namjoon is contemplating on throwing the nearest dumbbell into Jungkook’s direction.

You flush, “Okay, you know what? Wait here. Let me get the first aid kit.” You mumble, quickly scampering off to alleviate yourself from the situation.

The moment you leave the room, Namjoon takes two long strides until he reaches where Jungkook’s sat, before wrapping a hand around the arm that was supposedly hurt—and squeezes.

“Ow! What the fuck hyung?!” Jungkook shrieks.

“Don’t hyung me, you brat.” Namjoon seethes, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook gapes, while Jimin and Taehyung watch in amusement.

“Me?! What’s wrong with you?” Jungkook retorts, equally as agitated, “Oh, _____, help spot me! Woe is me! Like she wouldn’t get crushed under you, you meathead!” 

“Like you’re any better,” Namjoon snaps, “Oh, Noona, pay attention to me. My arm hurts. You might as well have asked her to change your fucking diapers at the rate you’re acting like a damn child.”

“You’re the one that started all of this!” Jungkook exasperates, “With all due respect hyung, I love you and you’re my captain but I really feel like smashing your head into the wall right now.”

“That’s it?” Namjoon scoffs, “Well I’ll do you one better and let you know that every time you breathe in my direction I feel like—”

“Oh my God will you two idiots shut the fuck up?” Taehyung interjects, snapping at the two boys who pause, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Even Jimin is surprised at Taehyung’s intervention, purely because he was the type that usually let shit slide or let other people put problematic individuals into place. He was the mediator, the diplomat—not usually the aggressor.

“Wha—”

“Another peep and I’m going to smother your body under the dumbbells and leave you here to rot and die.” Taehyung seethes, staring straight into Jungkook’s soul.

That shuts him up.

“Both of you are acting like goddamn children, and for what? To battle out your masculinity to see who gets ____’s attention first?” Taehyung exasperates.

Namjoon clears his throat, “We were just—”

“—acting like a bunch of barbarians who’s never seen civilisation?” Taehyung retorts dryly, “Yeah. Because that’s exactly what this looks like. The two of you are so petty and for what? You two are literally rubbing the last remaining brain cells you have with each other but nothing is coming out from it. Like—nothing. Do you think she’d give a shit which one of you can lift more reps? That means absolutely nothing! She’s already freaked the fuck out at the prospect of her childhood best friend being in love with her and now we have Big Tit Number One and Two battling it out like you’re in the Greek Olympics.”

Jungkook blinks, and Jimin is mildly impressed.

“So before she comes back and tends to Jungkook’s hurt muscle,” Taehyung sneers, eyes narrowing at a guilty-looking Jungkook, “Both of you better sort your shit out.”

Namjoon flushes, embarrassed at the prospect of being called out, all while Jungkook is avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh my God, do you have a crush on each other or something? Apologise!” Taehyung gestures towards the two boys who awkwardly blink at each other, feeling much like reprimanded children.

It’s Namjoon who breaks the silence first, clearly the more mature one in the situation.

“Look … Jungkook,” He sighs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … drag it out like this. I don’t mean it maliciously and you’re my friend and teammate, so I’d really hate if a girl got in the way.”

Jungkook nibbles on his lips, eyebrows still scrunched; and the irrational part of him tells him to ignore the apology. But with the way that Taehyung is glaring him down, with Jimin’s expectant gaze, he knows that he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“I’m sorry … too,” he winces at his own voice, “But just to let you know … I really …” He shuts his eyes, feeling his chest tighten when he tries to force the words out, “She isn’t just … a girl to me, hyung. I really, really like her. And—I know you like her too but … I fucked up and I really want to make things right and seeing you—”

Jungkook is flushing while he rambles on, fully aware that the rest of his friends are listening intently to him speaking his heart. But a hand rests itself on his shoulder, and when Jungkook opens his eyes he sees Namjoon offering him a gentle smile.

“I know,” He says, “I know I said I wouldn’t back off …” He trails off and Jungkook recalls the conversation he had with him in the very same gym just a few weeks back, “But I don’t think I can compete with a decade long love story.” 

Jungkook scoffs, though his ears are flushed.

“It’s really not—”

Namjoon waves him off, clasping a tight hand onto his back that tells him it’s okay, and whatever that was going on would get better. And Jungkook feels marginally better and allows himself to let out a sigh of release.

“So are the two of you gonna kiss or what?” Jimin asks in the midst of the silence.

Namjoon glares at the boy, “Don’t make me give you an extra ten laps.”

He backs down immediately, raising his hands up in defence. And at that moment, you return, all smiles and with a pant as you raise the first aid kit up.

“Your arm?” You smile sweetly, and Jungkook can only offer a weak on in return.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Depends. Will I have to run from the government if I answer you honestly?” Yena ponders out loud.

You roll your eyes but shake your head anyway. The two of you were meant to be cooking dinner but you’ve surrendered yourself to Netflix and Yena’s witty live commentary on horrible films you were scrolling through an hour earlier. Though, your head wasn’t quite in it, to begin with; your thoughts drifting to other aspects, ones that you thought too hard for and didn’t necessarily know the answer to.

It was frustrating, the way that you wanted to have a solution for everything but overthought every single case that happens to pass by your mind. 

“No one’s hunting anyone down, your anarchist,” You say, “This is a little … personal.” 

You didn’t have any girl friends prior to Yena, and that was your first mistake. You weren’t the person that actively avoided having girl friends because you thought they were dramatic or overly emotional but purely because you never knew how to befriend women. It was weird—being a woman yet being muddled with your own sense of femininity that suppressed your ability to form meaningful friendships with your women peers.

Throughout most of your childhood and teenaged life, you only had Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. While they were more than enough to keep your memories cheerful and filled with laughter, there were more personal things that you couldn’t quite approach them with. They had each other to confide in their ��manly’ discussions, small talk that you’d often flush at—but you couldn’t ask them the same things you wanted to.

You knew, that on a fundamental level that your personal things were just … things. It wasn’t that deep, nor did it require a PhD in Gender Studies to fully understand the nuance of periods or apparent ‘girl’ problems; you just needed to listen. But you were timid, and you got embarrassed super easily—so that never boded well whenever you’d want to approach them with a question of your own.

But now, you had Yena—debatably the most open and understanding person you’ve met in your life; and you owed it to yourself, and her—to be honest, to live yourself vicariously in your girl best friends eyes—and ask:

“How do you have sex?”

Granted, there was definitely a smoother way of peeling off the bandaid, but you supposed if you were going to be discussing this one way or another, you’d go big or go home.

“I’m sorry,” She coughs, “What?”

You blink.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you were a virgin first …” You mumble.

Yena stares at you with a stupefied expression as she gapes at you.

“Hey, repeat after me: candy, tree and cat.” She grabs you by your shoulders.

“I’m not cerebrally compromised, Yena,” you say dryly.

“Repeat,” She glares.

You huff, shoving her hand off your shoulder.

“Candy, tree and cat. There, happy?” You huff.

She eyes you weirdly as you sigh. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes!” You exasperate, “So like … how? Do you just? Penetrate?”

Yena blinks one more time, her eyes trailing to the ceiling as she asks for a higher being to give her strength before she returns her gaze onto your figure.

“Babe, that is literally the unsexiest way to approach sex.” 

“Penetration?” You furrow your brows.

She scrunches her brows, “No.” She gestures to you, “That.”

You scowl.

“I don’t know how to approach sex! That’s why I’m asking you. I literally don’t know who else to approach. If I went to Jimin or Taehyung I’m pretty sure they’d just stare at me and cry. Namjoon is out of the picture because he’d likely approach sex textbook style and I don’t need that level of detail right now. I definitely can’t ask Jungkook because he’s the guy I wanna have sex with. So yeah. I’m here because you’re a woman and the only person I can have a full conversation with without losing my will to live.”

Yena gawks at you, jaw slack as you finish your ramble; ears flushed.

“… you …” She begins, wracking her brain for the words that seem to fail her, “… okay. You know what, the fact that you’re here and putting your big girl pants on and asking me this is a feat in itself so I’m going to just ignore the fact that you said you wanted to have sex with Jungkook.”

You flush, “I was word vomiting—”

“Ah,” She holds her hands up, levelling you with a knowing glare, “If you want honest, you be honest too.”

You slump in your seat, sighing as you nod your head defeatedly.

“Firstly, I’m not a virgin. I could never be a virgin.” Yena declares, “Granted, I’ve slept with three people and two of them were women. But the idiot I lost my virginity to was, unfortunately, of XY chromosomes so … I guess I can answer your questions.”

“I mean … I know how sex works but … approaching it …” You mutter.

“And sex isn’t this groundbreaking act that requires Einstein’s IQ to partake in. It’s both intimate and not, and that’s definitely a personal preference. You can know the semantics of how people have sex, for hets in this case, which is just the classic ol’ penetration method where the penis enters the—”

“Your point?” You exasperate.

“—okay, I got a little carried away. But really, sex isn’t … difficult. It’s scary, I’ll give you that. But you don’t go into your first time thinking you’ll be great at it. Hell, you won’t even like sex that much your first few times unless your partner is a sex demon or something.”

“I mean when Jungkook …” You shudder, “When he … I … you know, did things … it felt …” You fiddle with your fingers. Your ears were undoubtedly on fire, and you were so embarrassed saying these things out loud because it was just so awkward!

“Good? You know I’m not going to judge you for it,” she says pointedly, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

You flush, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. You knew that Yena would never judge you for something as trivial and as unimportant as your sexual endeavours, but this was still a road you’ve yet to properly navigate yourself.

“I … came,” you wince at your breathy voice, “It felt good. And … he’s experienced, you know? I just don’t want to …”

Yena looks at you inquisitively.

“You don’t want to …?”

You sigh deeply, considering your next words with a soft murmur, “I don’t want to not live up to his expectations, you know?”

She frowns at you, “Jungkook’s made some mistakes but you said it yourself. He’s in love with you,” she says softly, “There’s no pressure to have sex with him just because it’s out in the open now, you know?”

You nibble on your lips.

“It’s … more than just that,” you tell her, “I told him I needed time, and really, I do. But it isn’t because I’m confused. I mean, kind of—but really it’s because I don’t want to walk into something and disappoint him … I’m just … scared.”

Yena holds your hand in hers while offering you a gentle smile.

“It’s valid that you’re scared. But there really isn’t anything that can come out of being scared right now. The two of you worked through an obstacle, and here you are creating another one that doesn’t quite exist yet. Trust me, when the time feels right, it does. And you’ll feel ready. Will you still be scared? Maybe. But it’ll feel like it’s meant to fit within your timeline.”

You nibble on your lips, “Is it bad that I’m overthinking this?” You wince.

Yena shrugs her shoulders, “Like everything else in your life?” She teases.

You whine, shoving at her shoulder playfully where all Yena does is snicker in response. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting out of the conversation, even if it was vaguely about the ins and outs of sexual exploration. And she was right, you’ll always be afraid of something, whether it’ll benefit you or harm you because that’s what change does. It shifts your comfort zone into a space that may be unfamiliar but necessary.

You lean into Yena’s shoulder, and a wave of overwhelming emotion washes upon you when you look at her. You really didn’t know how you survived a time without Yena in your life. And as if she’s noticed your glassy gaze, she raises an eyebrow at you.

“What are you looking at?”

You grin at her, all teeth and gums on display as you hug onto her arm like a koala.

“I’m just really happy you’re in my life.” You sigh wistfully.

She pauses for one whole second before she snorts.

“Wow, talk about sex once and suddenly you’re in love with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, “Tell Jeon and Kim that you’re mine now.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“They’re not even competing in the same league as you are,” you assure her.

She smiles.

“So … does that mean I don’t need to get you a birthday gift?”

That earns a thwack on her shoulder.

[mviswidow]

falling

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: cursing, alcohol

Prompt: i was wondering if i could request an imagine?? it’s kind of based off of harry styles’ song ‘falling’ whereas the reader accidentally admits she’s in love with wanda and wanda, having gone through so much heartbreak, pushes the reader away as she’s too scared to get involved with someone again, as all she’s known is loss. so, the two separate a bit until thor talks to her about it because he, too, has shared a lot of heartbreaking moments and shit and it’s not until she’s drunk (lyric: “I’m in my bed, and you’re not here 
And there’s no one to blame
 But the drink in my wandering hands.”) she realizes the mistake she’s made and goes to find the reader to tell them she’s in love with her too :(  IT’S SOME REAL ANGSTY SHIT BUT I FEEL LIKE IT COULD BE SO GOOD. LMAOO. <3 - @cierrascorpse​

Summary: R confesses her love for Wanda. Despite loving her back, Wanda pushes her away, but is convinced to go to R after the two of them have avoided each other for far too long.

A/N: this is my first songfic!! it’s ‘Falling’ by Harry Styles, in case you want to listen to it.

“You’re back!” You ran over to Wanda and hugged her, heart fluttering when she hugged you back tightly.

When you pulled away, she had a bright smile on her face even though she still looked sleepy. 

“Good morning, Y/n,” She chuckled, opening the fridge to get milk for her cereal.

You smiled and grabbed some fruit before sitting on the kitchen barstool and spinning around once or twice, “How did your mission go?”

“Eh,” Wanda shrugged with one shoulder and stuck her spoon in the bowl, nudging her cereal around.

“What happened?” You frowned.

“Nothing, I just made a mistake. Steve’s kind of mad at me,” Wanda sighed, looking up and seeing you with your eyebrow raised. She rolled her eyes, “I wasn’t paying attention and I almost got shot, I got lucky that Steve was watching.”

“Oh my god, Wanda, you have to be more careful.”

“I know, it was just an accident-”

“We don’t have room for accidents. You know better than to make careless mistakes,” You interrupted, shaking your head.

Her brow furrowed, it was weird that you were getting so worked up like this, “Yeah, I do know, and I obviously didn’t almost get shot on purpose, so if you’re going to be like this then I’d prefer you just back off.”

You scoffed as your eyebrows shot up, “Why are you being so defensive about this?”

Her voice raised, “I just don’t get why you care so much-”

“Because I love you!” 

Wanda’s jaw snapped closed and she noticeably swallowed before nodding, “I’m going to have breakfast in my room.”

“Wanda-”

“I don’t think us being friends is a great idea, Y/n,” She spoke softly, trying to keep eye contact for as long as she could.

Tears welled in your eyes and you pushed off the bar stool before making your way out of the kitchen, “Fuck you, too, then.”

---

From then on, the two of you didn’t talk unless absolutely necessary, which basically just meant missions and the occasional odd day where you had to talk to each other for something regarding the team.

It hurt. Really bad. Even looking in her general direction made you want to cry. The team wasn’t oblivious to the fact that there was something going on, they figured it out pretty quickly and it didn’t take long for them all to have found out what had happened.

You ended up spending a lot of time with Natasha. You were already close with her before Wanda rejected you, but you became best friends after the fact. 

Having to sit through meetings while sitting across from Wanda was excruciating. You willed yourself to get over her but she was constantly occupying your mind and you saw her every day, so that was pretty hard. 

Wanda also felt horribly about the situation. She’d never dated anyone before, and she loved you a whole lot, but she knew the last thing you needed was someone like her to come into your life in such a big way and leave mess in her wake.

Her heart raced when you took more than a few seconds to respond to comms and she always found herself looking around for you while out on the field, just to make sure you were okay.

Two months after Wanda had rejected you, the team was pretty fed up with the two of you. They obviously cared about your feelings but you were both way too distracted on mission and careless mistakes were happening more frequently.

That was when Steve gave Thor his own mini-mission of talking to Wanda.

He knocked twice on her door, which had her looking up from her book and opening the door with a swift movement of her fingers, “Thor,” Wanda smiled softly. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you, about Y/n,” He said as he closed the door, his usually loud voice now quiet and calm.

Wanda’s heart clenched and she bit the inside of her cheek, “Is she okay?”

“Oh,” Thor was now realizing that he might have made it seem like you were hurt. “Yes, she is- well, physically- I mean, it’s complicated.”

Wanda quirked an eyebrow up. The usual eloquent God of Thunder now stumbling over his words like anyone else, “This is about what happened between the two of us, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” He nodded and looked towards the edge of her bed. “May I sit?”

“Be my guest,” She nodded.

“Steve and I were talking about you guys, honestly, the whole team talks about you. It’s been hard to watch you guys like this, but we see the way you still care for each other. I know that you’ve been through a lot, Wanda. Losing family is harder than words could ever begin to describe, I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve happiness and that you can’t love the people you want to love. I see the way you look at her, we all do,” And eloquent Thor was back, apparently. “I just don’t believe you should let this pass you by. She’s a really special girl and she loves you a lot. I think you love her a lot, too, and I think you need each other. That’s all I wanted to say, I guess. I just hope you think about this more- maybe even talk to her when you’re ready, if you are.”

Wanda blinked away the tears in her eyes and nodded, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Thor left without saying anything else, and when the door closed behind him, Wanda pulled her pillow to cover her face and groaned. She laid there for a minute before getting up and walking to the kitchen in search of some kind of alcohol. 

An hour and a half later, she was laying on her bed in pajama shorts and a red hoodie that you’d given her for her birthday sulking.

She had half a mind to cry, but she didn’t really like drunk crying, and she was far enough into the bottle of vodka for her judgement to be impaired, but not enough to not acknowledge that drunk crying was the worst kind of crying. 

After months of being without you, she longed to be near you, to have fun sleepovers again, to sneak away from Tony’s parties to go up to the roof or to watch a movie, she wanted you to braid her hair and cuddle her at night and kiss her-

Before Wanda knew what she was doing, she set the vodka bottle on her nightstand and made her way to your room. She stood outside for a few seconds before knocking quickly so she couldn’t talk herself out of whatever she was about to do.

She could hear you laugh from inside your room, “Nat, did you leave something? You were here like- oh.”

Your smile fell when you opened the door and saw Wanda standing at the other side of it, “Do you need something?”

“I’m so sorry,” Wanda said, her voice breathy, her face flushed, that stupid hoodie that made her look adorable, and her hair tied back into a lose ponytail that was so messed up that it could probably barely even be called a ponytail anymore. But you could tell she was drunk.

You had to stop yourself from scoffing, “Well, you’re two months too late, Wanda.”

“I love you.”

“Don’t do this now,” You shook your head, tears now brimming your eyes. You didn’t want to put up with this when tomorrow things would be back to how they had been.

“Y/n/n, I’m serious. I love you so much,” And tears of her own threatened to spill. “I feel so guilty, as I should, but I just- I was really scared, and I thought that I was going to fuck things up for you, and that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I love you. I’ll say it a million times if that’s what it takes to convince you. I want us to happen.”

You sniffled and wiped away a tear that was starting to run down your face. All of a sudden Wanda was starting to sound really sober. “You promise?” Your voice broke, and you bit your lip, willing yourself to not make any noise.

“I swear to you that I love you,” Wanda smiled softly, bringing her hand up to cup your cheek, wiping away another tear that fell.

You leaned into her touch and closed your eyes for a moment before opening them and being graced by a soft smile on Wanda’s features.

“I would love to kiss you now but I want it to be good and not when I’m kinda drunk, so can I just sleep in your room tonight instead?” She asked hopefully, longing to hold you.

“Please,” You nodded and stepped forward, hugging her for the first time in two months. “I missed you so much.”

[mrsmaybank]

Daydreams - Professor!Reid x Student!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, HEAVY PETTING, SPANKING, FINGERING, DEGRADATION, UNPROTECTED SEX, AGE GAP, DADDY KINK

A/N: Holllaay shit. I am absolutely in love with Professor Reid and hate my father, so I couldn’t help myself. This is my first one-shot smut so I hope it doesn’t suck too badly. Enjoy my perversion EL O EL. Anyway, let me know if ya like it! 

Her little bambi eyes lit up in a way I knew I’d never be able to stop thinking about. The parting of her pouty lips made me want to press a big wet kiss on her mouth. But I couldn’t--She was a student. My student. My best student. Her elbows propped her up on the desk, curving her body so that my mind couldn’t go anywhere but daydreams of her in that same position grabbing onto bed sheets and mewling in submission. 

Our relationship didn’t extend past that, I was her teacher and she was my daydream. My latest vice had become mixing memories with self-tortourus fantasies. Fantasies where she sat naked on my lap, whimpering at my touch. I would treat her like she was made of glass and gold, light and then harsh, hot and then cold, loving and only then fucking. 

Today was the last day of the semester, she’d passed with flying colors and I had expected no less. I congratulated the class, but couldn’t help but say a couple extra words. 

“Special congratulations to the top scorer on the final. Miss, Y/N Y/L/N.”

Her eyes widened in excitement and then lowered in a façade of shyness, “Thank you sir.” 

“You went above and beyond this semester.” Her eyes met mine for the longest they ever had, 

“I’m proud of you.” Something about the way her shy smile had turned into a coquettish grin made me swallow hard, but it wasn’t just that look. She knew what she was doing. She always did.

“Class dismissed! Drink responsibly!” I said as the class packed up their things, “And if you’re underage, don’t drink at all!” I sat back down, tired but relieved. However when I saw that little thing prancing to my desk, I had all the energy in the world. 

“Dr. Reid?” she asked. She batted her eyelashes and played with the necklace that adorned her chest.

“Yes, Y/n?” 

“I, uh, thank you. Everybody said freshman year was gonna be tough,” I smiled at her breathy words, she spoke so eloquently. Like an articulate angel. She was an absolute angel. 

“And it was” She laughed, “But your class really made it better. You’re a wonderful professor. I’ve learned so much.” 

Oh, little girl. There’s so much more I could teach you. 

“Thank you. I have a summertime internship opportunity if you’re interested. There’s limited places, and I think you’d be absolutely perfect.” The outspoken girls brief silence confused me, as she shifted in what couldn’t be described as anything but anticipation, “Professor, are you really proud of me?” She spit out. 

I was stunned, “Why wouldn’t I be? You're great.” 

“I’m a tease, sir. That’s not something I expected a man like you to be proud of.” 

I closed my eyes and smiled to open them back up again. This girl was trouble, no question. But this, this was the kind of trouble that was just begging to be punished.

“You think you’re a tease?” 

She nodded. And I indulged. I shouldn’t have and I knew it. But she was a sweet peach, and I was just tall enough to rip her from her stem and consume her like it was the last fruit on earth. “Sweet girl.” I noticed her thighs squeezing together and the blown out black of her pupils. She wanted this just as bad as I did. “C’mere.” I turned my seat away from the desk. 

Like I knew she would, she obeyed and she sat on my lap. Her head immediately fell into my chest and she looked up at me. “You love to learn don’t you?” I asked her. She nodded, and I wanted nothing more than to take her right then. But I’d waited for this moment too long to do it in such haste. “I love to teach.” 

I kissed her neck like the sweet skin was on fire, light and quick but tender and wet. Her breath rose and fell harder each second my calloused hand got closer to the hem of her skirt, a skirt that was a couple inches too short for her own good.  Everything about her was like a pure poison, a tease for no reason. She knew she could’ve had me whenever she wanted, and yet like the coy and clever girl she was, waited. She waited knowing the longer she did, the more my infatuation with her would grow, and all the better the loving would be.  

My hands' slow descent up her skirt ended at the lace trim of her panties, where I traced the band west and east, watching her breath hitch as every time I trailed back slightly closer to her core. When I finally reached her center, dipping my fingers into her panties I was met with exactly what was expected. Soaking wetness and a whine. I couldn’t stop the chuckle that left me if I tried. I adjusted her so she sat perfectly, arms on my shoulders and legs spread, back to the wall and face to me. 

“Hey, sweet girl.” She rocked herself on my fingers, begging for them to just make their way inside. 

“Dr. Reid, ple-” 

I shoved two fingers inside of her more forcefully then I intended to, although the girl didn’t complain. She screamed. How responsive. 

I continued to stroke her insides, dipping my other hand into her skirt so I could use it to rub circles on her crescent. She was a star on the stage of my lap, and my gaze never left the sight of her gorgeous face contorting in desperation as adorable whimpers fell every time my fingers curled.

“Is it everything you imagined?” She asked. I was slightly taken a back, “F-fuck. Is it Daddy?” I slipped another finger in to shut her up but it didn’t work. “You’ve always wanted to, right? Hold me down and fuck me till I cry.” My fingers sped up and her walls clenched around me, clasping and gripping my fingers, and cries left her pouty little mouth. She had just come all over my fingers and was taunting me with my desperation. What the fuck. 

“Is that what you want?” 

“Hmm,” she giggled, “Please.” 

I shoved her off me to bend her over the wood of my desk.

I flipped her skirt up for a better look at the adorable little behind my sweet girl had. 

“Adorable. So adorable.” I slapped it hard, wanting nothing more than to see the red it would leave in its wake. 

A guttural moan left her mouth, “Shit!” 

“Aw, what’s up little girl? Is it not what you imagined? You’ve always wanted it, hm?” I spanked her again, harder. She whimpered slightly, clearly holding back whatever sounds the action were provoking. “Bent over my desk and being hit?” I hit her again, and she screamed this time. “Or did you think I’d just fuck you right away? “ The room echoed with two sounds, my hand slapping the skin of her ass, and the whine from her that always followed, “Hm? I didn’t hear you sweet pea.” I hit her twice then, as she finally submitted, “Daddy, please!” 

“What’d you want babe?”

“Please, fuck me.” 

I dragged the tiny piece of cotton that had now been soaked off her, preparing to gag her with them. 

“You being loud is not gonna cost me my career.” 

“Wait!” I stopped in my tracks, 

“I’m on the pill. Just so you know.” 

I smiled, “Okay.” Shoving the panties in her cute little mouth as she nodded eagerly in understanding. 

I unzipped my pants, finally freeing myself from the tightness that had me painfully strained. 

I gently made my way so my tip was at her entrance, as she wiggled into me, 

“Desperate little slut.” She moaned against her own fabric. 

I grabbed her by the waist to shove her into me, my cock hitting the back of her walls as she cried, I couldn’t fathom the pleasure that every nerve in my body was feeling. “You’re so tight. So wet..” I pounded into her with all the strength I had in the world. Each thrust eliciting a muffled moan or whimper or sob that just urged me to go in again harder. I grabbed and pushed her propped elbows down, so I had a hand on the back of  her neck, holding her down exactly like she said I wanted to. She was right. I did. “This is what we both wanted, huh?” 

“Little girl” I started, my thrusts into her beginning to get sloppier as her cries got louder, my voice was coarse, “Pretty little girl. You like this?” Between messy sobs of pleasure, she got out a pathetic little mewl of “Yes.” I snaked a hand around to pull her up and look her in the eyes and press a sweet kiss to her forehead before ripping the panties from her mouth and roughly pressing her back down on the desk. “I wanna hear you.” I fucked her with a passion I hadn’t ever in my life.

Her walls gripped me tighter then I thought was possible, and I knew the end was near. “Daddy.” She panted, ‘G’nna c-cum.” I ignored it “Aw. Pretty girl, you can wait for Daddy, can’t you?” 

“No!” she wined, “Please, just let me-Fuck! Daddy,” she sobbed, “Please.” My thrusts were getting rougher, messier, better. “Come.” I ordered. Her walls began to convulse and flutter, physically begging for me to join her. I got faster, fucking her as she came, lost in her pretty moans and gripping pussy. She bounced with my thrusts, sobbing as she said, “Cum, daddy, please.” The rapid pace stopped as those words left her mouth, I came into her as deep as possible, feeling her twitch as my sticky release coated her. Pulling out, I flipped her around to kiss her sweetly. She giggled into the kiss and looked at me in a way I’d remember forever. 

“Thank you, professor.” 

“Yeah little girl, anytime.” I began to help her clean up.

She lit up, “You mean that?” 

I nodded and helped her sit up, “Oh, yeah I do.” 

[nanaminokanojo]

Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 1/8

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NANAMI!! 🎂

CHARACTERS: Nanami Kento X You (fem!reader | PLEASE READ THE NOTES BELOW*) | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Utahime Iori | other JJK Characters CHAPTER COUNT: 1/8 WORD COUNT: 5,000+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | eventual smut | ooc depictions | female reader with described appearance* | modern au | rich people au | aged up characters CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | alcohol use | age gap | strong/mature/suggestive language | mentions of bullying, injury SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

"Play the Game" Masterlist

The final road before the bend that led to Gojo Manor stretched before Nanami, signaled by the consistent shield of the ancient cryptomeria trees that lined the road side. The forest was a momentary relief from the glare of the sun reflecting on the windshield of his silver Lexus. Such was the inconvenience of driving in the middle of a bright day when the sun was at its pedestal, making no room for shadows, no reprieve from the heat. He detested it.

A sigh escaped his lips. It’s supposed to be the beginning of autumn, he was thinking for the umpteenth time that day. He would really appreciate it if the Siberian winds would herald the actual beginning of the season. Yes, he thought. That would be nice.

The weather was, nevertheless, the least of his worries, and as he finally made the turn to the incongruously long gravel driveway of the estate, the real cause of his anxiety reared its head to the surface, presaged by the denser shadows of trees and the high gables of the colossal structure that housed the seat of the Gojo clan. It was supposed to be unfounded, his apprehension, or so he tried to convince himself since deciding to make an appearance earlier than expected. He couldn’t keep it at bay anymore when the emotion was mixed with hopeful anticipation. An odd combination, indeed.

He had no choice but to come, or rather, he wanted to come. It was for an important occasion anyway, Gojo Satoru and Utahime Iori’s wedding week specifically. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. If it was significant to two of the most important people in his life then the same applies where his views on the matter was concerned. After all, he greatly appreciated it that Gojo chose him as his best man, well one of them anyway. The man could never make up his mind if he tried so, breaking the traditional order of things, he has two “best men” – him and Geto Suguru.

Much to the groom-to-be’s disappointment, Nanami initially planned to show up a day before the ceremony itself. It was an added displeasure to the fact that Geto wasn’t going to show up until later that week as he was overseas for work. Gojo still probably was disappointed since Nanami did not exactly say anything about showing up earlier. But when he saw an opening in his jampacked schedule which was rare, he took the opportunity to take time off work. As annoying as Gojo was, he did not deserve to have two absent best men on his wedding week. Besides, a week away from the firm wouldn’t hurt, and he thought it was a good way to unwind before his big case.

If he would be able to unwind anyway.

The man had been sure of how he would manage through the occasion if he only spent a maximum of two days surrounded by crowds which were sure to be invited to the happy celebration. After all, nobody ever expected the young master of the Gojo Clan to ever be serious enough about anyone romantically, much less get married. Now that he had to stay for longer, giving chances to more occurrences of a variety of events, he wasn’t so certain. Anything could happen at Gojo Manor. Anything.

His optimism relied on that fact. Troublesome things usually happened with Gojo and Geto together, throw in the other members of the family and the other clans in the area, but Nanami was betting everything on this week.

A pair of cool, aqua eyes met his dark orbs the moment he stepped into the semi-outdoor ballroom of the opulent house. It was always like instinct, the way Nanami’s senses seem to heighten and hyper focus on one person, all else tuned out and seemingly nonexistent. Like always, without a hitch, he found you.

Alas. If he was questioning the reason for his hopefulness, that wasn’t the case anymore.

There you were, stood on the elevated corner by the refreshments table. You appeared like a celestial being walking among mortals, the halo of silvery white hair shimmering under the sunlight filtering through the room making you seem as if you did not exactly exist in the same realm as everyone else.

You were initially not paying attention to anyone despite your cousin, Miwa, chatting away beside you. But then, you leaned towards the latter when she whispered something, being equally conspiratorial by raising your champagne flute to your mouth. By the looks of it, prior to that, you have long tuned them out, Miwa and her friends, what with your poor attempt at pretending to pay attention. Nanami knew you have mastered the art of doing so since you were a child. It wasn't on purpose, or so you say. You were simply oblivious most of the time or you just didn't care. And you tended to only see and hear what you wanted.

At the moment, he was the object of your attention. He was sure of it, unable to help but to be much too aware of it, nerves pulled to their limits like piano strings conditioned to make sounds at the slightest of touch of its ebony and ivory keys. The feeling he had made you real, existing. He wasn’t imagining at all.

At times, he still could not believe that he watched you grow up to the person you are at present. The first time he knew of your existence was when Gojo invited him and some of their other friends to that very house in middle school. You were just as remarkable as a child as you are as a grown woman, much too quick-witted and eloquent at six even as your nanny carried you astride her hip, looking very much like a female infant version of Gojo. The bright blue eyes you shared with the male shone with the same intelligence he possessed, probably more, even without doing or saying anything. It just emanated from the two of you even if Gojo behaved like an utter idiot at times.

You shifted your line of vision to Miwa who was inconspicuously flailing her hands as a silent and agitated command for the other girls to disperse when she saw Nanami approaching. In a split second, you were alone. Miwa has always been unreasonably fidgety around him but he never quite understood why.

"I seemed to have driven away your company," he said to you the moment he was within earshot, watching you exchange your empty glass for another that's full.

You finally faced him, your scintillating eyes glittering under the wide skylights above. They were fathomless as they were luminous, shining with mischief. It was a familiar sight. From a state of tedium, they seem to come alive at the idea of tormenting him.

"I don't mind."

Of course not. The corners of his mouth curled inconspicuously at that similarity he shared with you. "I seem to always offend that cousin of yours."

"Not really. Frighten is more like it." Your eyes stayed on him even as you drank from your glass.

"Frightened?" Nanami repeated with inflection. He knew Miwa was awkward around him, but it was news that she was afraid of him. He didn’t have anything against her since unlike you, she was actually a sweet girl.

"Well, you have always been purposefully abrasive, you have taken the language of sarcasm to a whole new level and you are a grouch," you told him without batting an eyelash when everyone else was intimidated by him. You were probably the only one who could treat him that way. Not even your brother who is his best friend could do that and mean it.

His planned glance turned into a sidelong stare when he saw how you were eyeing him the same way. The difference was that you had a knowing look about you, evident in the way your eyes shone with diablerie and the contumelious curl at the corners of your luscious lips.

"Is that your opinion of me?" he asked, his expressions remaining stoic. Inside, it was a different story. You are the last being on earth he wanted to view him the way others usually did. He always thought you acted around him differently – defied him, messed with his head (and heart if he was being honest), and annoyed him – because you saw him differently, too. He liked that idea, the feeling it gives him. It was already enough that you are forbidden territory because you are his best friend's little sister. He didn't want you to turn out to be just like everyone else.

You grinned but didn't satisfy his query with a response. It was just like you to keep him guessing that way. You loved your games and especially loved to play them with him. He liked to play along at times, but it gets difficult to keep up with your antics. Your thought process was something he still has to figure out despite years of knowing you.

Seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere by engaging you, he said, "Where's the groom-to-be?"

You pointed at the direction of the wood-framed glass doors leading to the indoor salon where your brother was speaking to one of the organizers for his wedding.

When Nanami followed your line of vision, he found the person in question. On a long table before Gojo were different arrangements of flowers, all in shades of pink, cream and white. Honestly, he saw no difference but Gojo was eyeing them as if choosing the right one will solve global warming.

"Being fussy about the flower arrangements more than his bride, obviously." Shaking his head, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his grey, pinstriped slacks before facing you again. "You think it's a good time to step in?"

At that, you smirked openly. "Wanna play a game, Nanamin?" you asked, appearing and sounding innocent as you addressed him with that nickname you knew he hated.

"Sure," he said without hesitation, knowing well the kind of person you are when you’re refused.

"No protestations this time, I see. You're learning."

He shot you a withering look, pushing his glasses up his nose. "That coming from a childish brat. I won't take offense." He immediately regretted saying that when he saw how your eyes glinted with something sinister. What it was, he didn't know, but he was sure about one thing: he just walked into another one of your traps willingly.

"Whoever gets a rise out of Satoru wins," you said, cocking your head to your brother's general direction.

That was easy, he thought. The fact that he showed up for the week-long preparations for the nuptials was enough to draw out a profound reaction from Gojo. Nanami was just that kind of best friend – absent. In his defense, he did make it to the important parts just in time, but this was something new to Gojo. For all he knew, he wasn't even expecting him to arrive until the wedding.

"Fine." He nodded at you, the action very minute. He was never big on actions. "We'll talk about the compensation later."

You returned the gesture with saccharine mordacity to it. "Alright." However, instead of moving towards the goal, you walked towards the other direction, signaling for him to go first.

It was an easy victory. The moment he walked into the salon, Gojo’s attention was immediately pulled away from the flower arrangements, his eyes going wide as saucers as he took in the fact that his best man arrived way ahead of time.

"Who are you and what have you done to Nanami Kento?" he asked aloud, making some of the guests for the day's luncheon turn towards them. He was evidently elated, his wife-to-be coming to join in, hugging Nanami while he clapped the man on the shoulder.

"I wouldn't miss this happy occasion for the world," Nanami told the couple, trying his best to convey his thoughts without sounding patronizing. That would be overdoing things even if it meant he would win against you. He wasn’t big on emotions and sentiments either.

All the while, his eyes furtively strayed to you, his competitor, watching you from way across the ballroom, sipping leisurely at your champagne as if you cannot be bothered. However, if Nanami thought he has seen the worst that you can do, he couldn't have been more mistaken in his life.

In the next moment, you entered the salon, appearing self-satisfied as you sauntered towards them, looking like a queen surveying your domain. "Well, well. If it isn't the big shot lawyer himself, coming to grace us with his presence!"

He clucked his tongue, reading through your ploy. You weren’t exactly one for theatrics most of the time, typically straightforward and brutally frank, but your games were as intricate as they were vexing. Nanami turned to face you just enough to conceal his expression from Gojo and Utahime, arching a brow at you in both challenge and question.

In a flash of black and white, you have taken your place in front of him barely a foot away. Your intention to further close the distance between the both of you only became evident when both your hands shot forward, taking possession of both sides of his face as you willed him to bend to your height, tiptoeing to make up for the remaining space. In a brief but seemingly drawn-out sequence of events, you staked your claim on his slightly parted mouth in a scorching lip lock.

Nanami was momentarily distracted by the faint taste of champagne, that detail registering in his brain before the sensation of your pliant lips pressed against his. The realization dawned too late making blood rush up to his head and for his ears to ring as he froze and burned simultaneously. His arms had unconsciously found their way around your slender waist, the feel of your warmth under your taffeta dress searing his palms. It was more for the purpose of steadying himself than you on your precariously high heels. The mere touch of your hand made him incoherent, but the feeling of your lips on his drove him to irrationality. The slim likeliness of the act happening between him and you made it feel as if he was going to pass out or wake up from a long, vivid dream.

He was there. He exists. You were there, real as can be. And you were kissing him.

Gasps erupted from all around, and before he knew it, you have pulled away, releasing your grip on him. As if he couldn’t dig his grave any deeper and punctuate his loss any further, Nanami leaned towards you, chasing your lips, attempting to continue your little interlude, uncaring of where you were or who was watching. After having a tiny taste of it, the absence of your touch affronted him like no other. If having you that close was what it meant to lose, then he will gladly have it.

Your laughter snapped him out of his trance. When his vision focused, he found you leaning away, your hand pressed against his chest to keep him at bay.

“Eager, aren’t we?” you said loud enough for him to hear, and for everyone’s benefit, you droned on, saying, “Been dying to do that since I saw you come in.”

Dazed, he just stared at you before him, the fact that he did not just lose to you within the premise of the game registering in his mind like a flash of lightning. Blood rushed to his head, heat permeating from the base of his neck to his scalp when his eyes strayed to Gojo who looked scandalized.

“You…what…” the other male endeavored to speak, but nothing coherent came out of his mouth, his blue eyes rapidly shifting between you and Nanami while his fiancée giggled beside him.

Indifferent to everything else and your sights only set on the object of your trickery, you tittered, savoring the hilarity of the situation. At least, to you, it was funny. “See you around, Nanamin,” you drawled and left with that confident gait, shaking your head in levity.

He wanted to join in on your conviviality, but the idea dissipated faster than water under intense heat when he saw his best friend eyeing him like he was about to castrate him. Nanami straightened up, rearranging his expression to that of quiet shock, laying it on thick by blinking cluelessly as if it was typical of him but Gojo was having none of it.

Ah, the joys of losing to you, he could just think despite his impending doom. Or maybe he was doomed to begin with. He couldn’t care less with the pleasant tingling of his lips and the memory of yours, the taste lingering on his tongue.

“You and me, in the game room. You’ve a lot of explaining to do.”

**

If Nanami would be asked how many times he lost to you, he wouldn’t have an answer. At least not for what is healthy for his pride and because he lost count. His only consolation was that he wasn’t the only one who had ever been under your thumb over the years you have had the upper hand. You’ve always had the advantage, and one way or the other, regardless of the odds of the games you played, be it tomfoolery or serious bets, you invariably have a way of turning them into your favor.

He could well say his chances of winning cases in court is higher compared to the fact that you always bested him in life. It frustrated him to no end.

“Wanna play a game?” Those were always the words which heralded a series of infuriating inconveniences that he, along with some other individuals, had to be subjected to ever since you acquired your penchant for mischief and seeming thirst to challenge if not victimize people.

Those words, paired with a ridiculous nickname of your choosing for each of your conquests gave one no choice but to engage. The way you say it was enough to rile even someone who just happened to be listening, as if you were surreptitiously patronizing the person of your choosing. The unreadable expression on your face when you initiate your games also makes one’s hackles rise. While Gojo had the same tendency to be condescending when he wanted to be, you were exponentially more menacing compared to him.

In your defense, you never did it to everyone. It was as if you have a rationale behind the selection of people you felt like messing with. Your criteria was not something that is known to anybody else. At first, it was just Gojo. Then Geto and Shoko Ieiri, another close friend of your brother, got a taste of it until finally, it was his turn. Anyone none the wiser would think your ‘affections’ were solely focused on Gojo’s friends, but apparently, it wasn’t the case.

There were three kinds of people where your games were concerned: people you didn’t give a damn about, those you liked to play with and those you engaged with but eventually stopped being a pain to.

Most people around you were the first type since you mostly didn’t give two fucks about them. For some reason, it had become a sort of status quo in the Gojo household to be included in your sphere but few were lucky enough to hold your attention long enough.

The third kind were people who seemed to have reached an understanding with you. Geto, Utahime and Shoko used to be casualties in your ploys, but after a game or two, they’ve eventually ‘graduated,’ and you treated them like equals. Apart from that, there seems to be an exceptional case when you did not have to inflict yourself on the person just like in the case of your closest friend, Itadori Yuuji. That kid was special somehow, and Nanami thought perhaps he was, too, until you got started with him.

As for him and Gojo, they were still people you liked to torment. His theory was that you were looking for something from the people you play with. If you find it, you stop. It wasn’t a theory anymore that it was a sort of defense mechanism if he deduced right, judging from the situations which led to the change in your behavior.

It all started when you came home from boarding school overseas after finishing your freshman year in high school. Gojo had invited them over as per usual for the summer events being held at their estate but suddenly started talking about his concerns over you.

“She’s distant,” he said with a sigh when asked about it. Apparently, your parents were upset over you decision not to attend the school of their choice anymore and threatened to drop out and run away if they insisted further. “And there seems to be something wrong with her. She seems different somehow. Very snappy and always in a foul mood. She rarely leaves her room, and when we try to help, she gets angrier.”

“She’s in that phase, huh?” Shoko mused. “Want me to talk to her?”

Gojo insisted to do it, being all dramatic and saying he had been a lousy brother. But that’s when you started being the way you were. You weren’t an angry teen anymore, just someone who indulged yourself by toying with others without regard to whose expense and to what extent. Most of them were harmless, but you very nearly endangered two of your friends, too.

Nanami dug his own grave when he purposefully tried to have a go at you, pointing out your mistakes in an attempt to intervene at that time. You used to be rather passive where he was concerned, polite even, but then everything changed that night.

He was somehow glad that you decided to approach him when you needed help when you usually gravitated towards Geto, surprised to see you at his doorstep past midnight and looking ashen.

First, you dared this new girl, Kugisaki Nobara, to sneak into the abandoned factory at night, and the girl ended up hurting yourself. You looked so regretful and distraught while explaining what happened on the ride to the factory, and for the first time, he realized that you only ever challenged people you held a certain degree of fondness for. Everything ended well without anybody else knowing of your mishaps but him, and in a twist of fate, she even became your first real friend.

And then, you started yet another game with Fushiguro Megumi, effectively getting him kicked out his father’s clan. You weren’t exactly aware about the deeper reason as to why his family wanted him to be close to you, only that you found displeasure in it because he was a groom candidate. It was common among old clans like yours, and when you dared him to tell your parents he had no intention of marrying you, your brother had to intervene and take the boy in, ending up registered under Gojo Clan instead. While his family was trash in all sense of the word, you were still at fault since you ruined his only chance at being accepted by the clan head. Still, he, too, became your friend, and more than that, an adopted brother.

“Is this some attention-seeking behavior you’ve learned somewhere?” Nanami asked you that time.

“I get attention without as much as lifting a finger being who I am.” You snorted. “I can’t expect everything to be positive though.”

He was taken aback by your statement then. Still, he tested his theory. You were different after all. While some people admired you for your genius and your otherworldly looks, there will always be those who hated you for it. It was like a repeat of Gojo, except that he had them, his friends. Whom did you have?

“Are you being bullied at school?”

At that, your pupils constricted, your bright eyes turning icy as you regarded him. You were quiet for a moment as you stared, not exactly enraged but your brows furrowed together. Nanami could see the cogs in your brain moving through your eyes when you slowly grinned and said those four words: “Wanna play a game?”

He’s been losing to you ever since, not really knowing what you want and what set you off, hell-bent on making him miserable at every opportunity you could take.

It wasn’t all different at present.

The moment he heard the click of the doorknob and your scent – a mix of crisp autumn air, vanilla and a hint of something that reminded him of happiness – registered in his brain, he froze on his chair in the study where he was currently taking notes on his upcoming case. It was a trade-off for the length of time he would be gone from the law firm he worked at. His grip on his pen tightened that he thought he would break it to splinters when he saw you from his periphery, still looking like a goddess, fresh and gorgeous despite the day's affairs.

You were so painfully beautiful that concentrating on the file before him was proving to be difficult. Everything else didn't make sense to him whenever you were in the same room as he is. It didn't help that you kissed him in front of everyone just a few hours ago. He couldn't forget the feeling no matter how many times he convinced himself that it was just you playing your games; that it was nothing. He wished it was otherwise, not that it helped in his cause a bit.

"What on earth was that about?" Gojo demanded, pulling him aside to the game room like a child who did something naughty. In fairness to him, he was still fond enough of Nanami to offer him a drink but, indeed, he thought, what on earth was that about?

He shrugged. "Have you met your sister? Surely, you know just what crazy antics she has up her sleeves. She gets her annoying side from you anyway."

The answer seemed to have placated the male for the time being but if you were going to continue with your mischief, Nanami has no way of telling where things can go. And judging by your confident gait and the complacent grin swathed on your countenance, you were up to no good again.

He carded his fingers through his blond locks, leaning back on the chair as he furtively watched you.

"Do you need anything?" he asked calmly despite himself.

"Hmm. I won," you murmured, rounding the heavy oak desk before vaulting yourself up on it to sit just beside his papers, your eyes zeroing in on the files.

He shot you an accusing glare. "What was that about?"

You arched a brow at him, wrenching your gaze from the documents with a frown, the way your eyes widened in mock innocence making him want to box your ears. "What was what about, Nanamin?” The preposterous nickname rolled off your tongue tauntingly. “I thought you hated questions that can be openly interpreted."

"Why did you kiss me?" he snapped.

"Well..." You openly mocked him with a smile. "Could there be any other reason apart from our bet?"

"Of all the things you could think of, you went for something that would give your brother a heart attack not to mention that it put me in hot waters."

“Isn’t that the objective of our little bet?”

He sighed. "This is the last time I'm indulging you."

"Eh? You said that the last time we saw each other, too." You feigned exasperation. "Doesn't change the fact that you lost again though."

"What do you want?" He finally sat up straight, stacking the documents on the table. "Why are you sitting there anyway?"

"You're right." You jumped off the desk and much to his confusion, instead of taking one of the seats at the other side of the table, you swatted his arm from the papers and sat on his lap like he was an easy chair.

"What –"

You turned to him then, your faces just inches from one another. "Is this better?" you asked as if you saw nothing wrong with your iffy position.

Nanami didn't know what to do with, his arms remaining still on his sides while he just stared at you as if you grew two heads. "Is this another one of your games?"

You leaned closer to him, your bright eyes drowning him. "You tell me." You laughed then. "I wasn't the one who couldn't get enough of this afternoon's kiss."

He shrugged before he could run away with his thoughts. You were right. He did want to kiss you more, but it wasn't as if he could.

Just then, you reached over and removed the glasses that were always perched over his nose then wore it yourself. "What are you doing?"

"You look better without them," you commented.

"I need them for reading." He rolled his eyes at you. "Get off, Y/N."

"Hmm? Is that really what you want?" you taunted, your hand having found purchase at the back of his head, fingers toying with his soft hair.

He placed a hand on your thigh, slowly climbing up to your hip, reveling in the feel of your warmth under his touch. He looked at you seriously then and leaned away, surprised when you frowned momentarily. It was so fleeting, he didn’t know whether he was imagining it when he saw disappointment on your face. That was a first.

"Y/N, Just tell me what you want. You won the bet after all."

Shrugging, you stood up as if you weren’t just perched on his lap. "Go figure," you quipped, sounding pissed off. "Think of something I would actually want. It's up to you."

“Another game?”

“Think of it as you want.”

"What?"

You slammed the door close in your wake before he could get an answer, once again leaving him there puzzled at your reaction and exasperated with himself.

-end of Part 1-

First of all, Happy Cake Day to the love of my life, Nanamin!

I made him a lawyer here cause that's freakin' hot!!!

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Everyone's aged up here as well, including the younger characters which will be included in the story.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20210703]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[jinxpantsu]

The Boys Reacting to MC Telling Someone Off!

You go, MC! You don’t take shit from anyone!!

The scenario is that some stranger is being racist/ homophobic/ sexist/ transphobic towards you, and you SNAP!

Note: In Belphie’s prompt you can still be Gender Neutral, but I had to imagine AMAB for it’s contents. Forgive me!

~

Lucifer

Lucifer was walking you home from RAD. You stayed a little late after the meeting to finish up a bit of homework. On the walk home, a car pulled and started driving at your walking pace, howling suggestive obscenities at you.

How rude. Didn’t these lowlifes know that it’s disrespectful to catcall? He grits his teeth angrily, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. Poor you, you must be so uncomfortable.

Not. You stop in place, which causes them to slam on the breaks of their car. Before they can start asking for your number or to get in the car with you, you go off. You’re much more reserved with your voice, but your tone is frightening. Lucifer hearing you be so eloquent in describing what you’d do to them if they ever bothered you again was not something he expected he’d enjoy hearing. But here he is.

Pride? UP! It seems you got some backbone in you, threatening demons like that. He’s glad you are adjusting to life in the Devildom so well.

Mammon

You and Mammon were enjoying your time at the casino. He usually goes alone but this time you managed to convince him to come with you.

The dealer at your table has been giving you both shifty eyes for a while now. Mammon’s luck is just getting worse and worse. He doesn’t seem to entirely notice it yet, blind through his frustrations, but you pick it apart quickly. The dealer is intentionally giving you both bad hands.

You nudge Mammon at the start of another round. His eyes follow yours to the dealer and suddenly he’s watching them like a hawk. After that round was lost, he’s about to pop a gasket.

Seeing Mammon angry wasn’t anything new, but the expression on his face made his anger contagious. He slammed the cards down on the table and went off before a word left Mammon’s mouth. he watched you with such passion, calling the dealer out. Needless to say, he’s glad you tagged along with him that night.

Leviathan

You both were at an Anime Convention. You decided to cosplay as one of Leviathan’s favorite characters from an anime you both picked up recently.

You both were enjoying your time there, taking photos, and shaking hands with other cosplayers and fans. You even got a few gifts as a thank you for some of the photos.

It was when one of the “fans” came up and asked for a photo that the problem started. They put their arm around you, and leaned in uncomfortably close. Levi watched from where he sat as the two of you began to take the photo. He heard a racial slur uttered from the fan and nearly lunged at them to attack.

What stopped him however was you, shoving them away and shouting about how disrespectful and unfunny that was. Levi watched with glee, his Henry being so brave in the face of bullies! Afterwards, he asked if you were alright, and treated you to a nice lunch away from all the noise.

Satan

You and Satan were both enjoying your time at a cat café. He seemed particularly invested in a kitten that curled up at his foot and was now purring. A grouchy older woman seemed irritated that a man was so emotionally invested in a kitten.

Satan was used to these comments. He learned by now to ignore them, and didn’t seem bothered by it at all. He was much more occupied petting the sweet kitten, who he almost wanted to take home with him had Lucifer not banned him from keeping pets.

You on the other hand, were not having it. You turned in your seat to the older woman and asked what her problem was. This caught Satan off guard, who figured up until now you were ignoring her too. Apparently not.

Things escalated and the woman, feeling threatened, decided to leave on her own accord. Pride wasn’t his sin, but to say he wasn’t proud of you for standing up for him nonetheless was very much appreciated. At least he knew he could count on you.

Asmodeus

You and Asmo were at a huge party in town. There were some party-goers who were extremely drunk, and weren’t very fond of Asmo’s dress matching with yours. They commented specifically about how men shouldn’t be wearing dresses.

Asmo has dealt with people like this before, so he’s quick to ignore their comments. Arguing has only made these sorts of situations more stressful for him, and it’s not like he cares too much about what disgusting people think of him. He’s assured of his beauty by thousands, he doesn’t care what bad apples have to say!

You, on the other hand, do. And Asmo loves you for it. You immediately slam the breaks on whatever you were doing, turn to the two drunk party-goers, and yell at them that if they don’t like the way Asmo dresses, they should just leave. Asmo is loved by many humans, demons, and even angels, and no one loves people who treat others with no respect based on how they dress.

The argument goes on for just a bit longer before the drunkards are escorted out. Asmo has never been happier in his life. You didn’t need to, but you stood up for him. And even confirmed for him that yes- the world loves him for who he is and what he does. He’s sure to go all out (as if he was ever holding back) on the dresses, skirts, and bows now more than ever, thanks to you!

Beelzebub

You and Beelzebub were are Ristorante Six, enjoying a meal together. It had been a long day after Beel’s game and he was starving. More than usual. He casually ordered at least five of everything on the menu.

It’s not like you were just barely eating yourself. You had gone through a few plates as well, unashamed of how much food you were able to put away. it was nothing compared to Beel, but he liked that you weren’t afraid to go all out on food as well!

HOWEVER, one disgruntled couple a few tables down did not seem fond of that. You heard a few comments here and there about your “piggish” behavior. Beel seemed to notice and was quite irritated about what he was hearing. He even stopped eating at certain points to be sure he was hearing right.

He was about to throw something at them in a fit of rage before you stopped him. You spun around in your chair and shot the couple a menacing glare. When you spoke, you were firm and terrifying, telling them to mind their own business and move away if they can’t handle you enjoying yourself with your favorite demon. Beel never seemed so happy to hear you standing up so firmly for yourself.

Belphegor

You and Belphie were waiting at the bus stop. You both wanted to get home as soon as possible to get some well needed rest after a long day at RAD. Absentmindedly, you sat in Belphie’s lap and he wrapped his arms around you. You couldn’t help but notice the disgruntled person who was also waiting at the bus stop with you.

Belphie wasn’t having that shit. Instantly was ready to pop off the second he realized that person had a problem with you in his lap. He snarled, showing his clear frustrations.

You stopped him calmly, by patting the top of his head and shushing him. He gave a mild complaint, but you continued to silence him, telling him that it was alright. You’ll handle this. He wasn’t sure what you meant until you stood up, and grabbed the person,

You were telling them that if they’ve got a problem with you and Belphie, then at least be brave enough to be more vocal about how much of an idiot they are. Your relentless tirade went on until the bus arrived, and by then the person was afraid of getting on the bus with you. Belphie was glad he had you to call his.

[capseycartwright]

your love takes me there, this I swear

buck loves just about everything about eddie - but he especially loves his hands. 

or, musings on how buck fell in love with eddie because of his hands. inspired by this gifset of eddies hands and my utter lack of self-control!

ao3 link

Buck loves just about everything about Eddie. Really - the list of things he loves about Eddie is long, and possibly embarrassing, and ranges from the perfectly mundane like Eddie’s smile, to the downright cringey, like how much he likes the tiny, adorable snuffling noises Eddie makes when he’s sleeping on his side. 

Buck loves everything about Eddie -

But he especially loves his hands.

Buck’s not entirely sure when he first noticed Eddie’s hands, but he thinks it was probably fairly early on in their friendship. It sort of came with the territory, noticing hands - hands that worked to save someone's life on a medical call, hands that fought fires. Buck probably noticed fairly early on, because he had to watch Eddie work, and how could he not notice that Eddie had quick, clever hands - hands that had clearly seen plenty of medical emergencies before and knew how to work quickly and effectively? He admired it - even underneath all his initial assholerely, Buck admired it. Eddie was a clever guy, and good at his job, and he’d been a threat, in the beginning, and then he’d quickly become Buck’s best friend in the entire world.

Eddie’s hands were focused, and clever, at work - they had been from day one. Buck, to this day, liked to sit back and admire Eddie’s hands when he could. Eddie’s hands were clever, and they were strong. Every day of his life, when Buck put his uniform on and started work, he put his life in Eddie’s hands, and Eddie had never given him a reason to question the unwavering faith Buck had felt from the moment they’d worked to save that man’s life in the ambulance. Eddie’s hands were the hands that Buck trusted to double-check his harness, when he was going to do a rope rescue - it was a job Buck had never really even trusted Bobby to do, always doing a third check when someone else had checked him over, just to be sure - but Buck trusted Eddie to do it. The routine was familiar, now - Buck would harness up, and Eddie would double-check every clip, every knot, tugging and tightening with a practiced ease and familiarity. 

Eddie’s hands were the ones who would operate the winch, when Buck was doing a rope rescue. Buck always felt safe, knowing Eddie’s hands were the ones that were holding onto his rope, that Eddie’s hands were the ones his life was in. Eddie’s hands were the safest place Buck had ever known. Eddie’s hands were the ones he felt on his shoulder, during a fire, reassuring him that Buck wasn’t alone. Eddie’s hands worked alongside his, to wrangle hoses and pull victims out of fires. They were hands Buck knew as well as his own - hands that felt like an extension of his own, while they worked. 

He noticed the way Eddie’s hands worked, first - and then he noticed how Eddie handled Christopher. Buck was probably biased, yes, but he firmly believed Eddie was the best father in the entire world. Eddie - he never babied Christopher, never made his son feel less than, he was never cold with Chris, never denied his son anything. The first time Buck met Christopher, he’d driven Eddie to Christopher’s school, and he’d watched as the hands that had saved lives in the aftermath of the earthquake had lifted his son into a relieved hug with a gentleness Buck hadn’t seen from the older man, until then. 

Eddie’s hands were always gentle, and loving, with Christopher. Over the years, Buck had watched as Eddie’s hands had ruffled Christopher’s hair, hands that had helped Christopher with his crutches, hands that had supported and loved the little boy in all the ways Buck had never experienced in his life. He thinks - in hindsight - watching Eddie with Christopher only ever helped Buck fall completely in love with Eddie. Eddie was soft, and kind, and gentle, and patient with his son - even when Christopher was throwing the kind of epic tantrum Buck wasn’t sure he’d know how to handle, Eddie would simply give his son a firm look, and with gentle hands, direct him to the couch and explain that they needed to talk about their feelings - not shout about them.

How could Buck not fall in love with the hands that tucked Christopher into bed every night, hands that put Christopher’s glasses aside when Christopher fell asleep while they were reading - hands that easily lifted Chris from the couch and into bed, after movie night, hands that were raising the best kid Buck knew. Eddie didn’t give himself enough credit, if you asked Buck - because he was the greatest example of fatherhood Buck had ever seen, and he got to see it every single day. Buck felt like he learned from it - learned how to be a role model, putting Eddie’s parenting into practice as Jee-Yun got older and Buck’s role in her life felt infinitely more important than ever.

Buck noticed the way Eddie’s hands worked, first - and the way they loved Christopher, second. 

The way Eddie’s hands loved him was the greatest revelation of Buck’s life. Looking back - Eddie’s hands had been telling Eddie’s secrets for years, long before Eddie himself had ever confessed his feelings for Buck. Buck remembered the first time they hugged - really hugged, and not the slap on the back,  bro-style hugs that had dominated the first few months of their friendship. 

No, their first real hug had been after the bombing - Buck didn’t like to think about those few months, all that much, and he liked to think about the time he spent in the hospital even less, but there was a moment that he liked to think about. Buck had been alone - which was rare, given the shifts the 118 and his family took to keep him company as he recovered - and Eddie had come, late, after a shift, and he’d found Buck crying. Buck had been too tired and emotionally wrung out to be embarrassed, and Eddie had simply wiped away his tears with those magnificent, healing hands, and he’d hugged Buck close, as though he could squeeze him hard enough and put all the broken pieces of Evan Buckley back together and from that moment Buck was sure the only place he could truly be happy was when he was being held in Eddie’s hands. 

Eddie’s hands had told the story of his feelings long before Eddie had said the words out loud - hands that offered Buck coffee, on his bad mornings. Hands that took Buck’s keys from him, on the days he was too tired to drive, hands that bundled Buck into the passenger seat of Eddie’s car. Hands that lingered and hands that held Buck close and hands that loved and said so much long before either of them had found the words for what had started burning between them so many years previously.

Buck remembered the moment it had all been set alight - and you’d have to forgive the ironic metaphor, for a firefighter, but he wasn’t sure there was any other way to describe how it felt to finally love Eddie loudly and freely - it was as though his body had been set alight with it all and Buck had been so fucking happy to burn because it was Eddie, and maybe that wasn’t all that eloquent but Buck would walk through fire every day of his life if it meant he got to have five minutes at the end of every day with Eddie - he was just lucky that he got Eddie for so much more than 5 minutes, he got to have Eddie all the time.

Eddie had kissed him first. Buck would always remember the moment - the way their argument seemed to stop, right in the middle, because suddenly, you could cut the tension between them with a knife and something shifted and changed and Eddie was cupping Buck’s face in those beautiful hands of his and he was kissing Buck like he was worth something and pleading with Buck to understand that regardless of anyone else - Eddie couldn’t live without him. 

Buck loved being loved by Eddie’s hands. Over the years, it felt like Eddie’s hands had mapped every single inch of Buck’s body - Eddie’s magical, magnificent hands knew exactly where to touch, where to tickle, where to hold. God - Buck would never get over how it felt to be held by Eddie. Eddie had big hands - and the multitude of entirely not PG fun that brought about aside - Eddie’s hands were big enough to make Buck feel held. Eddie’s hands felt like they spanned the entire expanse of Buck’s ribcage, familiar and grounding when it felt like Buck’s lungs were being crushed with the weight of the anxiety that felt like it was never going to let him be, even after years of therapy and talking and recovery. Even then, Eddie’s hands were steadying, keeping Buck above water.

Buck loved to hold Eddie’s hand. Eddie’s hands - just like the rest of Eddie - were warm, warm and calming and familiar and Buck took every opportunity he could to link his fingers with Eddie’s - across the centre console of the car, in the grocery store, sitting on the couch watching TV after Christopher had gone to bed. 

Buck could write a novel, about the way Eddie’s hands felt - calloused, and a little rough, the result of a life spent working manual jobs that required those helpful, healing hands of Eddie’s. They were still soft, though - soft, and warm, and familiar, and the greatest comfort Buck had ever known, whether that comfort was in a ridiculous haunted house Chimney had forced them to go to (it was, in Buck’s defence, actually terrifying, and he’d been justified in holding onto Eddie’s hand with a death grip), or whether that comfort was the steadying presence of Eddie by his side as his doctor had quietly admitted Buck’s yearly scan of his leg had shown a strange abnormality. Hands that had held Buck close as he panicked, and cried, hands that had shared in Buck’s joy as everything had turned out to be just fine. 

Hands that had shaken, as he’d proposed to Buck. They’d talked about marriage, in that vague, far off, maybe one day sense - and if Buck was being honest, he wouldn’t have minded if they had never gotten married. What they had, the love he and Eddie shared, was too big to be described only by marriage and a ring - but Buck couldn’t deny the thrill that had gone down his spine as Eddie had gotten down on one knee and produced a ring with shaking hands and asked Buck to make it official.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Buck hummed happily, leaning back against Eddie as his husband slotted himself behind Buck on the couch on their hotel balcony, bracketing Buck’s hips with his knees. “Just thinking,” he said, marking his place in his book, twisting a little so he could look at Eddie. The four days of glorious, uninterrupted sunshine had done wonders for Eddie, a healthy glow to his skin that could only be the result of a slow, lazy, ‘we’re not doing a single adventurous or touristy thing’ kind of honeymoon. 

“About good things?” Eddie asked, those glorious hands of his threading through Buck’s hair, familiar as they tugged at his salt-water matted curls. 

“About you,” Buck admitted, twisting his fingers with Eddie’s, taking a second to admire the bright platinum wedding band that sat there - a wedding band Buck had put there only a few short days ago. It was simple, plain and thin to anyone who might give it a passing glance - and engraved on the inside, decorated with words that would only ever go a fraction of the way of explaining the love that Buck felt for Eddie - love that consumed him in the best and brightest and most welcome ways. 

“I’m right here,” Eddie reminded, as though Buck could forget that he was on a blissful, week-long honeymoon with his husband in a very fancy, very quiet, five-star hotel. It had taken them a long time to get to where they were - and so they had decided they were going to savour every single second of their first week of marriage. 

“I know,” Buck reassured, pressing a kiss to the back of Eddie’s hand. “I was just reminding myself of how much I love you.” 

Eddie’s smile was the most glorious thing Buck had ever seen - forget art, and music, and ancient cities full of history. No, Eddie Diaz’s smile was one of the greatest wonders of Buck’s world. “I love you too,” Eddie reassured, his other hand coming to rest on Buck’s chest, right where his heart was, and a part of Buck wanted to scream it in time with the thrum of his own heartbeat, to try and make Eddie understand what Buck still felt like he didn’t have the words for - it’s yours, it’s yours, it belongs to you.

Buck loved Eddie’s hands - hands that healed, and helped, hands that had given Buck hope, hands that loved. 

Hands he was going to get to hold onto forever. 

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you have a crush on college student renjun so you make use of your best lamest flirting attempts and surprisingly they work?!

pairing: renjun x gn!reader

genre: college!au, romance, pure fluff

warnings: very lame jokes, mentions of a cruel prank in the past (someone asking out renjun as a joke, pls never do that to people!), lots of awkwardness & sweetness, a bit of swearing, reader has an obsession with renjun’s pretty hands

word count: 4.7k

It had been a while since you had a crush so strong you even had a hard time focusing in class. Usually, you were a very good student, diligently taking notes and participating when the professor asked questions. But that was until you saw Renjun for the first time. 

It was like something possessed you and suddenly you couldn't think about anything else but his pretty, gentle face, his angelic voice and his lovely hands always drawing something in his notebook. It certainly didn't help much that you were seated right next to him during your shared lectures. It most certainly didn't help that you forgot all your vocabulary when you were in his immediate vicinity. Usually, your teachers and friends described you as well-spoken and eloquent, always knowing the right thing to say. 

But that was, of course, until Renjun. All words disappeared from your poor brain whenever he was around. And it's not like you didn't want to talk to him, get to know him better. But you physically couldn't bring yourself to form a coherent sentence. You kept telling yourself it was just a silly crush and it would pass in time. But the more time passed, the stronger you felt the need to do something about your feelings. Naturally, you couldn't speak, but there was still something you could do. Something you probably did best. Write.

So one day, after what felt like an eternity of yearning, you finally gathered the courage to act on your emotions. Taking a small sheet of paper out of your notebook, you wrote a little something. It was probably super lame but apparently, even your writing skills were affected by your crush on him. As soon as your "masterpiece" was done, you slid it towards Renjun before you could chicken out and change your mind about this whole thing. The note had the following text:

Roses are red, Violets are blue, Your drawings are almost As pretty as you. P.S. Key word: almost ;)

The second he spotted the little note which was folded in a hurry, he opened it curiously. Once he read its insides, you could hear him snort under his breath. Was it that bad? You couldn't help but worry. Then, he took his own pen and started writing something under it. That was a good sign, right? You were feeling hopeful. Once he was done, he slid the paper towards you. You opened it in a rush. His response was:

Hey! Are you bullying my art?!?

You looked at him in confusion. How could he have possibly misunderstood? However, he was too focused on multitasking (drawing most of the time and occasionally taking notes based on the lecture) to spot your reaction. You decided you had no choice but to be as explicit as possible and wrote another note:

Nooo, I meant to compliment both you and your art, sorry if it came off wrong and lame :(

When he received it, you could swear you saw him smiling a little, which made your heart melt. How was he so beautiful? Soon enough, his reply came:

That's alright, I'm just teasing...Also, it worked.

You couldn't believe it. It worked? You'd successfully grabbed his attention by using this first-grade flirting method in college? You were suddenly feeling brave and kept writing. It was too late to turn back time.

I just think you're really pretty and cool especially when you draw but I was too hesitant to talk to you directly...

When he read your most recent note, he even gave you a look of disbelief, which you couldn't interpret until you saw his response:

Cool? Wow, that's a first...And it's ok, I don't bite.

You chuckled quietly and suddenly noticed that class was ending soon. You couldn't wait until tomorrow so you hurriedly wrote the content of your next note:

What do I have to do to get your number?

Renjun shook his head in amusement and this time, his reply came quicker than before:

*number enclosed* Here, that wasn't so hard, was it?

You could hear the lecturer saying his words of conclusion and you hurried to respond via another note, because you couldn't trust your voice to actually speak to Renjun. Not yet, at least. So, you wrote:

Thank you!!! Here is mine: *number enclosed*

And just as he received your final note, the students around you started gathering their things. You simply looked at Renjun and you still couldn't believe he'd actually replied to your silly flirting and even gave you his number! You waved him goodbye like a lovesick fool and practically ran outside of the lecture hall. Stage fright whomst? Try having a crush on the prettiest boy in the world.

After you went back home, you debated calling Renjun. Eventually, you talked yourself out of it. What if you said something stupid and embarrassing? With texting, you could at least have more time to think things through before sending them. Actually speaking to him seemed too terrifying a task to accomplish. So, you texted him excitedly and your heart did a back-flip when he replied. Was it strange that you already missed him, even though it had only been a couple of hours since you last saw him? Naturally, you couldn't tell him that, it would probably freak him out. So, you settled for texting (for the time being).

Renjun: Why did you run away after class?

You: I was too nervous to speak to you, I'm sorry!!!

Renjun: That's strange, I see you talking to your friends all the time...Am I so scary?!?

You: Nooo, you're not scary, I'm just being an idiot 😔

Renjun: Top of the class does not equal idiot but I'll let it slide this time

You: Thank you for your generosity!

Renjun: What are you up to?

You: Probably gonna work on that assignment for next week

You: Sorry, I'm so boring 😔

Renjun: First of all, you don't have to apologize so much, you did nothing wrong

Renjun: Second of all, saaame. We can brainstorm together if you want?

You: Sorry, I'll stop. Oops, I did it again. Pretend you didn't see it.

You: Also omg, yes pls, that would be great!

And that is how your friendship with Renjun started. Texting on your phones and exchanging notes during class lasted a week until you finally decided to ask him out. Again, via text, because you were feeling too shy to speak to him. The only other contact you'd had was waving at each other. And it's not like he spoke to you, either. There were two explanations for that: 1) he chose to respect your decision or 2) he was possibly just as shy as you were. Whatever the reason, you thought this could not go on forever so you managed to find the bravery to propose a date.

You: Do you wanna go out with me? 👉🥺👈 

Renjun: Sure, where do you wanna go?

You: Oh, wow, I didn't think I'd get this far lol

You: Where do YOU wanna go?

Renjun: Hmm, there's this new art gallery I've been meaning to visit...if that's okay with you

You: Anything is good with me as long as I get to see your pretty face

Renjun: What

You: I said you're pretty

Renjun: Shut up, oh my God...

You: Do you want me to stop?

Renjun: Say that again

You: You're pretty

Renjun: 😳😳😳

Renjun: I can't wait to see you again

You: Same here

Once you got to the front of the art gallery, it struck you how strange it was that you would speak to Renjun for the first time ever. You mentally braced yourself as you awaited his arrival anxiously. Your nails were digging into the inside of your hands and you were terrified you'd pierce holes through your own skin. You told yourself this was silly, you had no reason to be so nervous. Renjun was a total sweetheart and he obviously liked talking...well, writing to you. You needn't worry that much, you kept repeating in your mind. You were too busy hyping yourself up to notice him approaching behind you. Too busy to be prepared for what came next.

"Hiii," Renjun greeted you with a surprise back hug.

"Oh dear," you jumped in shock as you turned around.

"Did I scare you, angel?"

Shit. Already with the pet names? How were you supposed to survive?

"No, it's fine," you waved him off, trying to play it cool. "Isn't it weird this is the first time we're actually speaking to each other?"

"Um...kinda," Renjun scratched the back of his head. "But I like it, it's what makes this so special."

"Wow, you sure do have a way with words," you chuckled.

"Shall we go inside?" he suggested.

"Yes, please."

As you looked around the art gallery, you kept pointing excitedly at the paintings, while Renjun was quietly evaluating them and telling you interesting stories about the artists. You couldn't help but be amazed by how attractive he was as he exhibited his knowledge. And of course, you couldn't help but wonder at how he was so much more beautiful than all the art you've ever seen. Naturally, you wouldn't tell him that. First of all, because it was too lame to speak aloud. Second of all, because your voice would undoubtedly betray you and crack or something even more embarrassing. As time passed, you were surprised at how easy it was to talk to him, despite your previous concerns. Renjun was very polite and soft-mannered and he made you feel comfortable, while the two of you looked at the paintings and discussed them. Once you'd seen everything, you were starting to feel a bit bummed out that your lovely date was coming to an end. When you were outside the art gallery, you impulsively asked:

"Can I walk you home?"

"I mean...sure. On one condition."

"Anything."

"I get to walk you home next time."

"There'll be a next time?" you whispered hopefully.

"I hope I don't sound presumptuous if I share my observation we both had a wonderful time."

"That's perfectly alright. Your observation is correct," you admitted.

"I live just around the corner, though. You really don't have to-"

"But I want to."

"So do I," Renjun said and the two of you began walking towards his home.

"I was wondering about something...You already know I didn't speak to you because I was feeling shy, but why didn't you? I have two theories, but I'm curious which one is more on point."

"Do tell and I'll try my best to enlighten you," he joked.

"Okay, so theory number one is you were being respectful of my wish not to talk yet. Theory number two is that you're just as shy as I am."

Renjun laughed and you could swear this was the sweetest sound in the entire universe.

"Am I so transparent? Honestly, it's a little bit of both. But there's another part you didn't guess. But it's too embarrassing."

"Come on, tell meee! It can't be more embarrassing than my lame attempts to flirt with you."

Renjun smiled gently.

"Well, to be honest, I couldn't believe you thought I was cool and pretty...I even feared this was some sort of prank. It wouldn't be the first time someone decided to mess with me like that."

"Renjun, are you serious? I don't understand why anyone would...Scratch that, whoever messed with you didn't deserve even a fraction of your attention. I meant every word I said. I really like you...and your paintings. And I'm sorry I couldn't say it aloud earlier. You genuinely deserve to hear nice things more."

"Thank you. I appreciate it," he blinked cutely. "But enough about me. I never told you...how beautiful you are. How kind and smart."

"I know," you waved him off teasingly. "But coming from you, this means a lot."

Renjun shook his head, amused by your words.

"We should go somewhere you like next time. Maybe a bookshop?" he suggested.

"Am I so transparent?" you repeated his words. "But sure, yeah. That sounds nice."

"Well, this is me," he said, pointing towards his home.

"Already? Aw, time sure flies by when you're having fun."

"I'll see you tomorrow in class, right?"

"Of course," you promised and before you could talk yourself out of it, gave him a quick but heartfelt hug. "Bye, Renjun."

"Bye, angel."

After your first date with Renjun, things were going quite smoothly. You finally got over your nervousness when it came to talking to him and the two of you would occasionally whisper things to each other during class. The first time he held your hand under the desk your cheeks filled with colour. Despite your embarrassment, you held his hand right back and granted him with a grateful smile. After that, holding hands in class (whenever you weren't busy taking notes) became like second nature to you two. It just felt so sweet and comfortable to be close to him. You couldn't wait till the next weekend for your second date. Even though you were just going to a bookshop and had nothing that special planned out, you enjoyed being around him so much that you were more than excited for spending time with him one-on-one. No professors or other students to distract you.

When the day finally arrived, you were surprised to find out your anxious self had made a comeback. Even though you were around him everyday and had grown accustomed to holding a conversation, it had been an entire week since your first date when it was just the two of you and you couldn't help but get cold feet as you were waiting in front of the bookshop. This time Renjun didn't surprise you from behind, you could see him approaching from a distance. Mentally bracing yourself for his inevitable arrival, you knew you'd be an awkward mess no matter how hard you tried.

"Hey, angel," he greeted you with the usual hug.

"It's nice to see you again, Renjun," you replied dumbly, briefly melting into his arms.

"You saw me yesterday, remember?" he teased you.

"Um, yeah, but still," you chuckled.

"Is everything okay? You don't seem like yourself," Renjun immediately noticed the change in your behaviour.

"Why wouldn't it be? Everything's peachy," you lied, but he didn't seem to believe you.

"Be honest with me, please," Renjun asked. You suddenly remembered what he'd confided in you during your first date. It was no wonder he had a hard time trusting you after someone in his past had had the nerve to pull such a cruel prank on a soul as sweet as his. You felt guilty for lying rightaway and began explaining yourself.

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I don't want to fuck anything up. Like I just did by lying and swearing. Fuck. I did it again, didn't I? I'll shut up now," you were rambling anxiously.

"Relax, Y/N, I totally get it. I was just worried maybe you didn't want to be here...with me."

"What? Nonsense. There's nowhere else I'd rather be. No one else I'd rather be with."

"Well, the feeling's mutual so there's no need for concern. Let's look at those books, yeah?"

"Yeah, sounds good, Renjun."

As the two of you went inside and started exploring the hundreds of shelves together, you felt yourself relaxing a little. Being surrounded by so many familiar titles, so many gorgeous covers was comforting. And as you kept showing Renjun some of your favourite books and telling him about your most beloved characters, he realized you were back to your usual self in no time. Attentively listening and occasionally sharing his opinions on certain authors, you didn't notice how quickly time passed by and how much you had enjoyed yourself and each other's company. Once you had looked through the bookshop in its entirety, you felt like it was too early to put an end to your date, but you didn't want to come off as too clingy or something. So, you simply looked at Renjun, expecting him to say what he wanted to do next.

"I promised you I'll walk you home this time, didn't I?" he smoothly said.

"I believe you did," you giggled. It was so sweet of him to remember such a detail.

"I'm a man of my word so lead the way," Renjun replied, offering you his arm.

"It will be my pleasure," you eagerly took his arm and the two of you began walking. You were deliberately moving at a slow place, simply because you didn't want this to end and felt like prolonging the time around him.

"Your hands are so pretty," you blurted out at one point.

"You like my hands, huh?" Renjun smirked.

"Did I say that out loud?" you were undoubtedly blushing really hard.

"I'm afraid so."

You felt completely mortified as you covered your face with your own hands.

"Hey, hey, it's fine. You can tell me anything. Chances are I'll take it as a compliment."

"Really?" you sneaked a peak. "You don't think I'm weird?"

"Maybe a little bit, but it's one of the things I like about you."

"One?" you blinked curiously.

"You're really fun to be around and you've been nothing but sweet to me. And of course, you're stunning, but that goes without saying."

"Without saying? I don't mind hearing it, though."

"I'll have that in mind," Renjun smiled gently.

"Renjun?"

"Yes?"

"Can you hold my hand?" you almost begged.

"I don't know, can I?" he tormented you with a joke.

"Will you hold my hand?" you corrected yourself.

"All you had to do was ask," Renjun acquiesced and intertwined your fingers.

Walking hand in hand, you eventually reached your place. As you two stared at one another, you refusing to go inside, him refusing to go, both of you refusing to let go of the other's hand, you thought to yourself how badly you wanted to kiss him. You had no idea if it was too early for that but you knew that the longer you tried to postpone it, the more you'd crave him. And you were an impatient person. So you quickly kissed him without thinking much. It was a bit awkward and rushed but at least, you had finally done as you wanted. Renjun looked taken aback and blinked at you a couple of times.

"I'm sorry," you apologized again. "I just..."

He silenced you softly with another kiss, this time more slowly and putting your mind and heart at ease. You lost yourself in the feeling of his plush lips against yours, finally letting go of his hand so that you could wrap yours around his neck. Hesitant at first but growing bolder by the second, you could sense Renjun's tongue testing the waters. You slightly parted your lips, letting him in. As the kiss intensified, you could feel him becoming more eager to touch you, his arms wrapped around your lower back. When you were seconds away from losing your breath, you finally broke the kiss. Opening your eyes to look at him, you couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. He'd kissed you back.

"I thought I told you to stop apologizing so much. Especially, when you haven't done anything wrong," Renjun scolded you politely.

You opened your mouth to argue, but when you realized your immediate response would have been another 'I'm sorry', you closed it. A second later, you came up with a different reply.

"I guess you'll have to discipline me, then," you huffed in a challenge.

"Dumbass," Renjun flicked your forehead.

"Hey!" you complained with a pout. "That hurts."

"What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?" Renjun gave an unamused look.

"That doesn't sound like such a bad idea," you mumbled, not expecting him to actually...kiss your forehead. But he did. And damn your knees for threatening to give out.

"Feel better yet?"

You nodded enthusiastically.

"Get inside already," Renjun tickled your sides, nudging you in the direction of your door.

"You want to get rid of me so badly?"

"No, but we can stand here forever if you don't," he rolled his eyes.

"Do you want me to invite you in?"

"Don't tempt me and go," he was impossible to sway.

"Okay, okay," you relented. "See you tomorrow, Renjun!"

For your third date Renjun suggested something different. While your first and second date had all taken place in public locations, this time he offered going to his place. And maybe the shock on your face was too obvious, because Renjun was quick to keep talking and almost take it back.

"We don't have to if you don't want to! We can just watch something at the cinema or whatever. Forget I mentioned it if you're uncomfortable."

You quickly shook your head.

"No, no, I do want to come over! I was just...not expecting it."

"Yeah? You sure?"

"A hundred per cent," you nodded excitedly.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I'm at two hundred per cent," Renjun teased.

"It's not a competition," you reminded him.

"It's not if I'm winning," he kept playing around.

You rolled your eyes.

"So what are we watching?" you asked.

"You can't go wrong with Harry Potter, am I right?"

"You are so right," you squealed. "Which house are you in?"

"Don't get me started. Sometimes I get Ravenclaw, sometimes Slytherin, it's a mess."

"That's pretty cool, though," you were practically staring at him with heart eyes at this point.

"You're a Hufflepuff, aren't you?"

"Am I so transparent?" you complained, this line becoming something of a running gag between the two of you.

"Cute," he mumbled under his breath and you blushed, not managing to maintain eye contact.

When the time arrived for you to go to Renjun's place, you were more excited rather than nervous. He was so easy to talk to and you were genuinely making so many wonderful memories that you had made it your mission to not waste any second worrying needlessly.

"I have arrived," you announced the obvious as you stood at his door.

"I can see that," Renjun chuckled. "Come on in."

"I wasn't sure if I should bring something so I bought some pizza on the way. It's still hot, so I hope you're hungry," you said as you followed him inside like a puppy.

"Oh, that's very thoughtful. And I always have enough space left for pizza."

You grinned and the minute you put the box on the table and your arms were free, you wrapped them around Renjun in a hug.

"You're so warm," you murmured against his skin.

He kissed the top of your head swiftly. Soon after, the two of you were too busy re-watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, eating pizza and holding hands to talk much. Once the movie was over, you realized how badly you didn't want to go home and how cozy leaning your head on Renjun's shoulder felt. And how much you liked him and couldn't stop thinking about his hands, his smile and his overall existence.

"Do you want to go home already?" Renjun asked the dreaded question.

"I mean, not really, but I don't wanna impose myself on you," you whispered.

"Don't be so formal," Renjun replied. "Just stay a little longer."

"Yayyy!" you were quite overjoyed and kissed his cheek. "What do you want to do?"

"Hm, I don't know. I could give you a tour around the place."

"Sure, that sounds fun," you immediately agreed.

"Don't get your hopes up, it's just a regular college guy's apartment."

"I'm sure I'll be amazed by every little detail."

"Even my socks?"

"Especially your socks," you joked.

As he showed you around his apartment, you couldn't help but be amazed by how Renjun-like everything was. From the snug kitchen to his art supplies scattered around. Every corner made the atmosphere feel extremely homey. Until you saw something that you hadn't expected, something that hadn't come up in conversation before. A stunning grand piano. You looked at the instrument and then at Renjun and finally, back at the piano.

"Do you play?"

"No, I just keep things like that as an accessory," he responded sarcastically. "Of course, I play."

"Can you...no, wait," you stopped yourself before making a similar mistake to the one you made a while ago. "Will you play something for me?"

"Right now?"

"If it's not too much trouble," you gave him the very best pleading look you were capable of.

Renjun sighed reluctantly and sat down on the bench in front of the piano.

"Don't just stand there awkwardly, sit next to me," he urged you courteously. 

You followed his advice and took the free spot. However, nothing could have possibly prepared you for witnessing Renjun's skills up-close. Watching him play was like magic. You were simply in awe and couldn't help but stare at his pretty fingers hitting the keys in just the right ways. When he was finished performing the piece, you were too frozen to do anything. Couldn't even manage to clap, even though he deserved it so much. But you were too transfixed by his playing and those damn hands of his you couldn't possibly move.

"Earth to Y/N?" Renjun went as far as snapping his fingers right in front of your face.

"Huh?" you let out.

"Did I enchant you or what?"

"I think you did," you chuckled. "Just...wow. You're insanely good."

He looked away bashfully.

"Thanks. It just takes practice."

"Nah, I've heard people play before but what you have is different. So pure and genuine. Like a blessing. And I'm not just saying that because I think I'm falling in love with you. I really mean every word."

"Care to repeat that?"

"I really mean..." you started, still not registering what exactly you'd said. How far you'd gone. What you couldn't take back.

"Before that," Renjun reminded you gently. "You know. The part about falling in love with me."

"Shit. I was thinking out loud again, wasn't I?" you asked dumbly. "It's too early for that, I know. I'm really sorry. Let's just pretend I said nothing and forget about it, yeah?"

In your panic, you jumped up from the bench and were about to escape like a coward but Renjun grabbed your hand before you could take another step.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, too," he said.

"W-what?" you stammered.

"And I don't care about whether it's too early or not. And I'm not going to pretend I didn't hear it. So the question is...what are you going to do about that?"

"Me? What...am I supposed to do?"

"What you want to do," Renjun clarified.

"Um...I want to keep falling in love with you, Renjun. And holding your pretty hands. Spending time with you. Listening to your angelic voice. What I want...is for you to be my boyfriend."

"I thought I already was."

"You were?"

"We went on a couple of dates...we kissed...Haven't I made it obvious enough?"

"Oh, right," you chuckled. "Sorry."

"Say that word one more time, I dare you," Renjun slowly ran a finger down your lips.

"S-sorry?" you had to test his patience. Before you could argue, he kissed you fiercely, wrapping his palms around your cheeks. You were drowning beneath his touch, which was ridiculous, considering he was also setting your lips on fire. You figured if saying sorry too much was going to end up like this, you would be a fool not to take advantage of it.

"Pretty angel," Renjun whispered against your mouth. "My pretty angel."

You were practically melting and the only thing holding you together were Renjun's arms.

"For fear of sounding lame, I'm inclined to say your pretty angel's almost as pretty as you. Key word: almost," you giggled, recalling your earliest attempts at flirting with him.

"Lies," Renjun shook his head.

"Hey, it worked the first time!" you pouted.

"It only worked because you're the pretty one," Renjun ruffled your hair playfully.

"Oh my God, shut up," you covered your face to hide how red it was.

"Never."

The End

[whatanoof]

I have a few corruption ideas in mind for cal and I'm just. Okay so like-- reader grinding on/teasing him, maybe while they're hiding in a cave or an empty room in an inquisitor base-- purposefully to the point where he can't hold himself back and he just cums right then and there 👀

Or-- reader accidentally projecting some very, very dirty thoughts towards Cal (bonus points if it's virgin!/inexperienced!Cal), and his reaction to said thoughts ;3c

Don't feel obligated to turn these into full fics or anything tho!! I just like to share my thoughts w ppl and see what they think abt it 🥰💛

SKDJFO THESE ARE GOLD I LOVE THEM.

Oh babe, this isn’t an obligation. This is my PLEASURE. Don’t mind me with my slightly force sensitive reader learning how to weaponize her inexperience against her very innocent boyfriend.

A/N: These turned out a lot more fluffy than I had in mind at first, and probably more so than you had in mind, anon. I'll to expand a little more on these, but I wanted to give you what I have now. More to come!

NSFW TOWARDS THE END 18+

You were two weeks into your relationship the first time it happened. It’s early morning on Bogano, the rare off-day where Cal doesn’t have to take a quest anywhere. The grass glistens in the early morning light, dew droplets sending sparkles of light through the air. You sit in the field, watching the sunrise with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a steaming mug of caf clenched tightly in your hands, gracing your morning with its fragrant smell. Happy chirps and beeps echo through the stillness of the morning as BD-1 scampers around the field, chasing a butterfly that’s been disturbed from its early morning food quest. It’s so domestic that it almost hurts. It reminds you of life before the Purge, when everything was better. Except, now you have Cal.

Not beside you of course, he’s actually the reason that you’re even awake to see the dawn. He stands stock-still in the grass several meters in front of you. He’s relaxed, breathing in the crisp dawn air, eyes closed against the rays of light beginning to conquer the horizon line.

Cere stalks back and forth in front of him, “Focus, Cal.” She hefts a round fruit in her hands about as big as her head. “Sense the life around you. What do you feel?”

Cal pivots slowly on the spot until he’s facing you. “I feel you. And her.” His brow is creased in that one spot between his eyebrows. You want to kiss it. 

“Not us, Cal. The life all around us. There’s a reason I chose Bogano for this lesson.” Cere’s disapproving tone is a common staple around here. The crew has learned to accept it as a sign of affection.

“A bogling. On the ship. It’s looking for food.” Cal says.

You smile. The newest addition to the crew has been nothing but a joy to you and a pain in the ass to Greez. It’s always stealing his favorite snacks and making a mess of his ship, if you count it’s tiny nest in the corner of the kitchen to be ‘a mess’. 

“Better. Expand, Cal.”

Then you feel something at the edge of consciousness, something familiar and strange all at the same time. It wasn’t so much a thing, but a feeling. A presence. If you had to describe it in words, you couldn’t. But if you had to try, it would be in swaths of color and emotions that blend and swirl in the invisible eye of your mind. It’s warm, reds and oranges and yellows fluttering against each other, tinged around the edges by blue, the same blue as Cal’s saber. Cal. The presence is undeniably Cal, the warm colors echoing back to his fiery spunk and stubborn affection. 

Your eyes open. When had they closed? Cal is right there, his hand stretched out in your direction. Cere watches cautiously, eyes flicking between you and him. You see her reluctance to interrupt the moment. 

As if called back to the ground by your distraction, Cal opens his eyes with a soft gasp. The presence retreats, fading from your short grasp as you try to chase it. Your gaze bores into Cal, trying to focus your mind on reaching back out to him. But you can’t.

Cere speaks, “That’s enough Force training for today.” She tosses the previously forgotten fruit directly at Cal’s head. “Think fast. Form V today.”

His lightsaber materializes into his hand, cleanly slicing the offending object out of the air in a single smooth motion. But Cal doesn’t hesitate for a single moment, flowing through different saber forms without difficulty. Cere calls a variety of commands, and each gives way to another attack by Cal. The saber moves like it is an extension of his body, like a deadly serpent that flickers in and out of the air.

This continues for a long time, long enough that you have time to finish off your caf. The drink warms your insides. Watching Cal working so hard to strengthen his connection to the Force warms your heart. Examining the definition of his shoulders and his muscular torso warms other places. Your eyes drift to his ass, emboldened by the illusion of ignorance. You allow your mind to drift. 

You and Cal started dating two weeks ago. There was an irresistible pull between the two of you, to the point where the crew forced you two to acknowledge it. Cal had been cautious, but permission from Greez and a blessing from Cere was all the encouragement he needed, because as he had said so eloquently, “Like you. I like you. A lot.”

And you like Cal. A lot. Nothing physical had happened beyond a single makeout session and more cuddle sessions than you could count. You know that he’s unsure about sex, and because of that you’re more than willing to wait for him to be ready. But that doesn’t mean you can’t look and daydream. 

Your gaze drags over his body, imagining for a moment how it would feel. What it would be like, to be allowed close to him to make him feel good. What his skin would taste like, how your fingers would feel threaded through his bright hair. The sounds that he would make as you go down on him. 

A gasp from the field snaps you out of the daydream. Cal’s facedown on the ground; all you can make out of him from here is the fringe of his poncho and his shock of red hair contrasting against the green environment of Bogano. You stand, hurrying over as Cere helps him up.

“Cal?” She's concerned, you can see it in her eyes even if she won’t verbalize it. You’re worried too. In all of your time aboard the Mantis, you’d seen clumsy Cal maybe once before, and that was because he was goofing off in an attempt to make Greez laugh.

He doesn’t respond to Cere. His gaze snaps up to you, and he says your name urgently. Your brow creases, “What?”

His face is flushed red, and he’s panting as he shakily kneels in the grass. “I think you’re Force-sensitive.”

---

“No.”

“Come on, it’ll be easy!” He looks so earnest, like a kicked puppy dog. You avert your eyes. Looking too long means that you will fall prey to the terrible innocent eyes.

“I said no. What’s so hard to understand about that?” You cross your arms tighter over your chest. You know that arguing is futile. Cal is the most stubborn person you know, even more so than Greez and you have witnessed the intense food aggression.

“Babe, it’s one rock. You’re not going to get hurt.”

“I might when it’s going to be flying at my face!” Cere had insisted that you learn to control your Force sensitivity, at the very least so that you could learn how to guard your mind from others. But, she placed Cal in charge of your training. Merrin’s Force abilities were nothing close to what you could hope to accomplish, and you believe Cere’s exact words were, “It will be good for Cal to learn just how irritating training a Padawan can be.”

And so your Jedi boyfriend became your Jedi Master. It was quickly determined that your Force sensitivity was nothing close to the level of Jedi. Your talents extended to thought projection, minor thought detection abilities, and, as Cal had been so excited to learn, basic telekinesis. 

That had been an accidental discovery, actually, brought out of a session wrestling with the Mantis’s control board wiring. You’d lost concentration for a split second, and in a flash of light and electricity, you were nursing a burnt finger. Merrin was attracted to your area by the flash of light and pained cry, and was incredibly surprised to find you with various medical supplies hovering in front of your face while you soaked and bandaged your finger. And she’d snitched on you.

So now you’re on a no name forest planet, facing down your boyfriend who’s threatening to throw a rock at your head in order to force out your hidden telekinesis, because as soon as Merrin witnessed the feat, you’d lost all voluntary control over it.

“Cal, this is a bad idea.”

“Do you have a better one?”

“Yes. Leave me alone. I can shield my thoughts now, that’s all I wanted to do.”

“Oh come on. It doesn’t excite you even a little?”

It does, but not enough that you’d be willing to have a rock thrown at your face. You roll your eyes and throw your hands up, “I’m going back to the ship.”

But as soon as you turn, something sparks on the edge of your conscious mind, and you whirl with an outstretched hand. The rock sails past your fingers and bonks you on the forehead. You clap a hand over your head as pain throbs at the point of contact. “Ow!”

You whip your head up and glare at Cal, who’s standing there, mouth agape and eyes so wide that you can see the whites from here. When he meets your eyes, he shrinks back and turns to run.

“Cal Kestis you are going to pay for that!” You lunge after him, nearly tripping over a root as you scramble after your soon-to-be dead boyfriend. 

He disappears around the corner of the clearing with you hot on his heels. Trees tower over your head in every direction. The only thing interrupting the perfect vision of nature is the dorsal fin of the Mantis spearing up into the sky, guiding you to safety.

And Cal’s running away from it, leading you further into the forest. Branches whip at your face, but you can’t pay attention to them when you’re focusing harder on not losing Cal as he ducks and weaves through the foliage with all of the ease of a jungle cat. Then you round a corner, and he’s gone. 

You’re gasping for breath as you stumble to a stop in the midst of the forest. Damn it Cal. You want to rest, but you’ll be damned if you’re going to allow Cal to get away with this. He knows that if he gets away now, you’re probably going to be cooled down by the time he gets back to the Mantis, and you can’t have that. You tamp down your anger. Gather yourself. Feel the world around you. Now hold it at arms’ length. You bring your mental shields up slowly, guarding yourself and calming your racing heart through a few deep breaths. Then, you let the barriers down, allowing the world to rush back into your mind. You exhale slowly, combing through the sensations like Cal had taught you, searching for the presence that had become so familiar over the past few months. There!

A flash of warm colors in the midst of the muted Force signatures of plants.

You whirl, scanning the tree branches above you in time to see Cal make a break for it. He’s overhead, about ten feet off of the ground and running along a tree branch so gracefully that it seems like he’s skimming across the air. He’s heading for a vine. ‘Sneaky little--’

‘Sneaky little what?’

You gasp as he teases back through the Force. Your brow sets in determination, and you narrow your gaze on the vine that he’s reaching out for. You settle on it, and reach out. Your consciousness brushes the vine, pulling it just out of Cal’s reach. His outstretched fingers close just short of the vine, and he loses his balance.

He hits the ground with an oof and you plant a foot on his chest. “Sneaky little laserbrain.”

“Babe you did it!” He grins up at you, unrepentant and ruffled from the mad dash through the forest, “Don’t you love your amazing boyfriend who just helped you to learn another Force trick?”

You smile, “I do. But--” you press harder on his chest with your boot, “--you’re still going to pay for that.”

He groans, “I just paid by falling out of a tree. How else would I make it up to you?”

Without your bidding, ideas leap to your mind. “Oh, I have some.” Cal, between your legs and making you cum with only his mouth. You, on your knees for Cal against one of these trees. Riding Cal back on the Mantis, topless and gasping his name as he brushes up against that one spot inside of you that makes you sing. You don’t project them, but you’re aware that your shields aren’t up, and Cal’s Force presence is hovering on the edge of yours.

Cal’s face reddens as he gapes up at you. All of this time, and he still gets worked up at the bare idea of you naked. It’s a little cute. He springs to his feet, “Let’s go back to the ship.”

You hum, looking at him thoughtfully, ‘We don’t need to go back to the ship for a couple of those.’

He chokes, and you smile as you grab the front of his poncho and back him against a large tree. This is going to be fun.

[vermillionbones]

I'd love to hear more of your Phobditor HCs!!

ohoho thank you for enabling me anon i am going to kiss you directly on the mouth /pl

also slight warning for spoilers to the new(??) ending of project nexus!! i don't talk explicitly about what happens in general, but the stuff involving phobos is mentioned in the very first hc so for those of you who don't wanna be spoiled you can just skip that one lol. grab sum popcorn lads this one's a long one snbcnkcnvmv

Phobditor HCs!!

rbs very much appreciated 👉👈

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

so i hc that phobos didn't actually get banished at the end of MPN, but he did get his ass handed to him to the point where he was so injured and drained of energy that he couldn't use most of his abilities. he went into hiding for a while and eventually found the AAHW, which he proceeded to join since he didn't really have anywhere else to go. after he'd healed and returned to his full strengh the auditor recognised how potentially useful he could be as a second in command, but ofc he'd have to earn her trust first. normally i don't try to make things make sense like this but since the auditor isn't actually in MPN i thought i'd at least try lmao

the auditor: ruthless girlboss by day, feral spouse-adjacent shithead by night

phobos is basically the same but instead he's manipulate mansplain by day and malewife manwhore by night /hj

before they got closer they'd never really physically interacted w/ each other, so phobos kind of assumed the auditor would be at least slightly painful to touch [cuz yknow. she's made of fire lmao]. plus he'd witnessed her setting things and people on fire with her bare hands before and he'd rather not get turned into a walking bonfire, thanks. the closest she'd ever been to touching him previously was like flicking the antenna on his helmet to piss him off

but like way, WAY later he finds out that audi can actually manipulate the temperature of their flames to an extent, so when they touch his hand for the first time he's really surprised when they're just like. pleasantly warm. kinda like the fuzziness you feel after you drink something hot but on the outside of your body

however this has also resulted in phobos using her as a mobile safety blanket lmao. sometimes if it gets too cold in the office he'll wander up to her and bug her until she folds a wing around him and tucks his head under her chin

when he's being a shithead sometimes she'll just pick him up by the back of his jacket and drag him off like a disobedient kitten lmao

They don't really have a super crazy height difference normally [i hc that audi is around 6'3 and phobos is 5'10 if he's not slouching] but sometimes she just morphs herself to have a several-foot height advantage just to fuck with him. like she'll appear in his office as this 9-foot-tall behemoth and he'll just be like "?? excuse me?? ma'am?? you can't do this to me???"

before he got to know her better, phobos had no idea the auditor preferred she/they pronouns over they/it like the agents around him seemed to think. he never made a big deal out of it and never explicitly brought it up, but he remembers to switch it up for her every now and then. plus whenever audi overhears him doing that she gets all fuzzy inside sfbfnckvj

phobos really likes her wings. he actually might be a little jealous of them, but he'd never tell her that sfvngk

ever since audi found out about this, they tend to subtly unfurl them and use them to gesticulate more when he's around. occasionally she'll use the claws at the peaks of her wings on touchscreens in place of a finger n stuff. she's also [gently] swatted him upside the head with a wing a few times when he was being a dickhead, but it doesn't really hurt him lol

she also lets him pet them when they're not busy. contrary to what he'd assumed, it doesn't actually feel like a whole lot to her - she's described the feeling as something similar to how it feels to have someone tracing their fingers along the back of your hand

phobos stims sometimes!! he has a bad habit of masking while he's working since a few of them are vocal and he doesn't want to distract anyone, but if he's just hanging out with audi he's totally chill. one of his more common ones is when he thinks out loud, either quietly narrating his current train of thought or saying unrelated words - usually confirmations like 'yeah' or 'mhm' - out loud cuz he thinks they're fun to say. occasionally he'll start humming low in his throat kinda like a microwave cuz he likes how his voice feels in his chest

also when he's standing idle sometimes he holds his arms closer to his chest and fidget with them

the auditor doesn't stim, but to people who know them well their wings are like big signs that can wordlessly describe how they're feeling [which is like my favourite thing to write cos wing emoting is really fun skdjbknk]. occasionally they might subtly flutter their wings when they're very pleased or receive good news, or flare them out when they're irritated/stressed

i always forget that phobos is actually like super powerful in canon so i hc that audi does too lmao. like it always slips her mind that he can teleport too so she'll dramatically disappear after telling him off for doing some dumb shit and fuckin scream when he somehow appears in the same room as her less than a second later

phobos has a red and black lava lamp in his office!! he'd never admit it but he got it cuz it reminds him of audi :]

phobos loves watching audi in combat for some reason. i mean he already likes watching them do stuff so he can backseat drive, but he's also quietly admitted that her fighting style is interesting to watch

he can't really put it into words, but it's because the way they fight looks incredibly effortless and fluid, mainly due to them having so much time to adapt to and understand their powers [both their original powers and the ones granted by the halo]. when phobos' own abilities started to surface he was incredibly unstable and struggled to properly harness them for months, so he thinks it's nice to watch someone who actually knows what they're doing for once.

much to the auditor's surprise, phobos is actually a bit insecure behind all that confudence, particularly about scars. after being close to her for a while, phobos came out of his shell a bit and explained how he managed to grant himself his powers/abilities, which is something i'll absolutely go further in depth with later [via a longer hc that i'm gonna post eventually lol] but to summarise he basically infused himself with raw madness in what he's eloquently dubbed 'the incident'. Of course, doing that to himself didn't come without consequence, and he's permanently scored with a variation of lightning & burn scars on his forearms, thighs, and most of his torso.

for the longest time, the most casual thing he'd wear even around just her was the long-sleeved sweater he wore underneath his trench coat, and he refused to change even if he was literally overheating. though eventually after he told her about what happened he felt way more comfortable and now whenever they're in their shared room audi practically has to throw a shirt at him to get him to wear one sbkcjcnk

the auditor has a sort of subspace/pocket dimension where they can store different items and recall them at will. normally it's pretty empty, but ever since she grew to like phobos she's started keeping miscellaneous things in there for him. sometimes she pulls out a drink or snack that he likes, sometimes she pulls out a little water gun with phobos' name scrawled on it and shoots him with it when he's being a shithead

they are both,, SO fucking touch-starved. like they will not let go of each other [at least if they're not currently in the middle of something or around agency employees] cuz internally they're both just going "wow!!! that's a hand i'm holding!!!!! there's a hand holding my hand!!!! wow!!!!!! i love this!!!!!"

having one eye isn't exactly the best thing for depth perception, especially when you're really tired, so sometimes audi has to hold phobos' hand and guide him around in the mornings because he can [and has] walked into walls and counters

even since before they became a thing, phobos had been a little envious of the auditor's halo and the powers it granted her. he used to subtly try to yoink it from her, maliciously at first but far more playfully later, where he'd like lightly grab it and give it a gentle spin above her head like a mobile. but his infatuation with the halo kinda died after she decided to let him borrow/try it out once by allowing him to link with it

by linking i essentially mean like wearing it, but the halo is so powerful that you can't just 'wear' it without letting it bond with a part of you

long story short, he went into it with far too much overconfidence & cockiness and the halo violently rejected him, kind of like how it rejected the auditor once. he wasn't at all prepared for the sheer amount of power that surged through him the moment it started to link with him, so it essentially short-circuited his brain and knocked him unconscious for the better part of a week. when he woke again, the auditor told him he was lucky his head didn't explode and calmly suggested they never tried that again, and he felt inclined to agree.

of course, he still toys with the halo while the auditor's properly linked with it since he knows it can't link to more than one host at a time. and despite his seeming ease and "it's in the past" sort of mentality about the whole event, if someone mentions the concept of him actually taking the halo and linking with it again, he'll shudder and shake his head, saying it's not his place to do so.

the auditor has no doubt it delivered a pretty harsh blow to his ego [being rejected by the thing that would make him a god would prolly do that], but knows he's too prideful to admit that.

audi likes listening to phobos when he goes off on super long monologues, especially if they're like those super cheesy villain monologues. like he could literally be talking about anything and she'll sit there to hear him out, especially if it's less related to work and more about himself

the auditor is super deliberate in the way they pronounce things and they tend to casually drawl their words out to further cement their cool, unbothered boss persona. however the way she talks doesn't really intimidate phobos anymore since he's also been next to her right after she's been woken up, when she's mumbling quietly & slurring some of her words together. he knows the big scary boss side of the auditor is just a persona used for everyone but him, so he feels a lot more at ease with them even when they're trying to be scary

even after being together for a while, phobos still has no fucking idea what the auditor is made of. like he's admitted to her that he's genuinely clueless, and if she lets him he'll spend like 99% of their downtime quietly interacting with her flames [read: curling his fingers through them and petting them] while he muses about his hypotheses for how stuff like her liquidy-shadow form works. they were a little suspicious of his motives at first, but after they relaxed they realised he was just genuinely curious and willing to share his concepts to see if he was right

they have like. the smoothest banter anyone at the agency has seen. like it's super cheesy back-and-forth stuff that wouldn't sound out of place in an 80s sitcom, but it just kinda flows out when they're both comfortable. and ofc they'd deny it if anyone mentioned it but they literally banter like an old married couple lmAO

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

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

It’s Just a Movie: Part 10 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 1849

You and the boys had been discussing their plan for the past two weeks, having kept track on your notes app in your phone. The first few days had just been with what their ending 'goal' was, which turned out to be harder than you thought for them to agree. Well, for you and them to agree. When you proposed their desired ending, Dwayne had quickly said,

"Kill Sam and the Frogs." And Marko was quick to second him. It seemed that neither of them were quick to forget their killers, even if you were sure the only reason Dwayne wanted the Frogs dead was because they went after Laddie. You, however, were quick to argue,

"They're kids, guys." And, before they could appall you with any loose morals, you added, "Plus, Max is gonna tell you to turn Sam, remember?" But neither of them seemed too bothered by only being able to kill the Frogs. So, you reminded them, "They haven't done anything yet. They might not even suspect vampires exist yet." You pointed out, and the boys frowned. After a few days, you got them to agree to only kill them if they attempted to kill them first. Quickly, you tried to steer them in a different direction.

It was decided fairly quickly that the boys wouldn't be able to disobey Max once he ordered them to turn the boys, and it would be near impossible to get to them beforehand. So, you suggested,

"Well, why don't we just try to make Max's plan work? I mean, it wouldn't be too bad having Lucy for a mom, right?" You offered, but the boys exchanged a glance as they mulled it over. Lucy was sweet, kind to her boys, and probably wouldn't force them to change. And, with how much freedom she gave Michael and Sam, they could imagine that their lives wouldn't be all that affected. You tried to defend her case, but, as David eloquently put, 

"That's exactly why she shouldn't end up with Max." He said, and you frowned. 

“He can’t be that bad...right?” But even you didn’t really know. You remembered the ending, where he didn’t even bat an eye, let alone shed a tear, at the death of one of his ‘sons’. Without missing a beat, Paul said, 

“He’s a dick.” You expected a slap of the head from Dwayne or a look from David. When neither came, you let out an uneasy breath. So, it seemed that Max's 'Blood-sucking Brady Bunch' was out of the question. When you pushed the topic of Max, it was decided that perhaps his ending shouldn't be all that changed. By the end of the first couple of days, it was decided that Max would die, and that David would take his place as the head vampire. You had to admit that it seemed to make more sense, with how detached the boys already were from their sire. And because it had technically been Maxs fault for their deaths in the first place. But, making sure Max bit it and they didn't was definitely going to make things more difficult. Especially when you factored in Star and Laddie. 

“Wait, why are we turning Star again?” Marko asked. It was a couple days later and the five of you were eating pizza in the cave, having already visited the boardwalk. You, Marko, and Paul sat on the floor while Dwayne laid sprawled out on the couch and David sat in his chair. You were revisiting your ideas for how they were going to change the future, and you were doing a rebriefing of what the five of you had agreed on. Really, with having been there for two weeks, it was the only thing to keep your mind off of the improbability of you ever going home.

“She’s the one that’s gonna lure Michael in.” Paul reminded him, reaching over to snag one of your fries. You batted his hand away, and he gave you a grin as he popped it into his mouth. Marko scoffed, shaking his head.

“And why do we need to lure him in again? I mean, we already saw how that goes.” He grumbled, and you tried to choose your words carefully. He was always a little tense during these discussions, as his death would be the first you’d need to avoid.

“If we stray too far from the movie, then we have no idea how the events will turn out. And no idea how to prevent any near-death experiences.” You reminded. It was the exact reason that you had crossed out the potential of keeping the Emersons away completely. “We’re only gonna change some minor things, so Michael still needs to be turned into a half for everything to work.” You said calmly, and he let out a long sigh. He pushed the pizza box away from him, and your fries away from you before he laid your head in your lap. Over the past week, the boys had gotten comfortable with you. Almost a little too comfortable. While you hadn’t done anything with any of them yet, platonic affection didn’t seem to bother any of them. Even if Paul constantly offered otherwise. You already knew what he expected, and you gently began twirling his curls and scratching his scalp.

“But he’s such a poser.” Marko said, and you couldn’t help your smile at the use of slang. Your mind instantly flashed to when he bought the leather jacket, and then the earring. He seemed to try so hard to fit in, or perhaps impress, that you hadn’t even considered that that might describe him perfectly. You watched as his face relaxed, his eyes fluttering closed as you used your nails to scratch one of his sweet spots.

“Yeah, but he’ll be human again when Grandpa kills Max, and then you won’t have to worry about him anymore.” You said, and you didn’t notice the small smile on David’s face as he watched you calm the blonde vampire. Marko let out another sigh, before wriggling his way further into your lap. He let out a small grunt, apparently satisfied enough to stop his arguing. For the meantime. After a moment, you added, “Plus, you won’t have to watch Laddie all the time with Star.” You said, giving Dwayne a look. He had been reading a book, and he perked up at the mention of the little boys name. When he looked over and saw that you were already looking at him, he was quick to look back down at the piece of literature in his hands. Paul let out a small snicker, and you smiled.

You knew that, while he would never admit it, Dwayne was eager to meet the little boy that had become so close to him during the movie. It was like he was awaiting the birth of his younger brother, even if the little boy was already walking around somewhere. Though, you and David had silently agreed not to discuss the fate of the young boy. While the five of you could plan your ideal ending all you wanted, the most important thing was being able to roll with the punches and to be realistic. And, well, Laddie had stuck to Star more than he had stuck to the brunette haired boy. 

With keeping most of the story-line and only a fraction of the ending the same, there was only one part of your plan left undecided. 

“So, how are you gonna stop Sam from coming down here with the Frogs?” You asked. There was, of course, the expected chorus of,

“Kill the frogs.” From Dwayne and Marko. It was a frequently revisited issue, and the five of you had yet to agree. You had to make sure you spent their nights with them after Paul, surprisingly, had suggested finding their comic book store earlier that week. But, before you could argue your usual point over again, David said,

“We don’t have to kill them. We don’t even have to stop Sam from meeting them.” And you were quick to arch a brow. Paul let out an audible,

“Huh?” And Marko and Dwayne both sat up to look at their leader. It was an undiscussed idea, but, from the way David said it, you guessed that he’d been sitting on it for a few days now. It seemed that whatever ideas he had, he was finally willing to share them. He took a drag of his cigarette, before he began to elaborate. 

“You said it yourself, y/n. We can’t risk going too far from the movie. We just have to make sure that Sam and the Frogs think that Max is the head vampire, and a few other things.” He added the last part vaguely, and you stared at him. With the way the edges of his lips curled, you were positive he was leaving you in suspense on purpose. You sighed, giving him a look. Finally, you asked,

“Like what?” And you watched the way his smile grew. He seemed to love whenever you gave in to his egging, and he supplied you with,

“Like thinking that by killing him it’ll turn all his children back to being human. Including us.” He said, and you felt your jaw fall for a moment before you quickly recovered. You didn’t want to inflate his ego, even if he already looked immensely satisfied with your reaction. Paul let out a low whistle before he said,

“Shit. That’s perfect. Michael will totally-”

“He’ll treat us like Star and Laddie. Same with Sam.” Marko finished for him, even if Paul went on rambling. He rambled about how they could blame the murders on vampire instinct, lack of human memory, or play into the thirst for sympathy. Or how they could make it almost hero-like by saying they only went after assholes. Dwayne, his deep voice cutting through Pauls chatter, said, 

“And Grandpa won’t go after us. Not if we could be saved.” And you stared at all of them. It was a good plan. A great one. But, you could only think of one fatal flaw in it, and it was staring you in the face. 

“Do you really expect them to believe you though?” You asked David. No matter how charming they could be, you didn’t expect them to really be that stupid. And it wasn’t something that they could just naturally bring up to Star and Michael without it raising some sort of suspicion from the pair. Especially when the Frogs were so hell-bent on killing all vampires, even if said vampire was only a half and a child. Davids smile turned into a smirk, and he gave you a small shake of his head as he said,

“Oh, not at all.” And confusion filled your face. You stared at the pale boy, his stubble dusting his cheeks and his hair practically glowing in the light. The smoke from the end of his cigarette curled and floated towards the ceiling as he said, “I expect them to believe you.”

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Baby, You’re Perfect

Pairing: BNHA Boys x reader

Warnings: Weight insecurity, negative body image/icky thoughts, body shaming from relatives, talks about skipping a meal once, general stuff like that. Kirishima’s reader is actively trying to lose weight. Cursing/language throughout (but mostly in Bakugou’s)

Characters: Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari

Author’s Note:

And here we have yet another request that is super old. I’m talking this has been chillin in my inbox for three good months. My sincere apologies, anon. And again, I’m sorry that that had to happen to you. Your grandma has no right to speak to you in that way. You’re making great progress and that’s amazing! Keep going strong, I believe in you. Anyhow, I had a lot of fun doing this request! We all need more chubby y/n on this website.

Yes, it says Hawks but I contacted the anon and we switched it to Denki bc I don’t write for Keigo (and we had a lovely conversation. they’re very nice :D). 

Also the first two insults are things that have actually been said/done to me irl (hehe tasty self projection) and the last one in Denki’s is from an episode from Tuca and Birdie (it’s a good show).

Anyway, be nice to people. Respect others and speak to them as equals. We’re all human beings here, trying to get by. We’re also like a month away from 2021, I shouldn’t have to say that >:(

Happy Thanksgiving!

-Sugar

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Bakugou:

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were tired of their faces, tired of their words. You were headed home early, and you would not be sorry.

You didn’t hate your family. They could just be a little . . . difficult sometimes.

At first, it had gone well. You’d arrived at your aunt’s house yesterday for a family gathering and met up with everyone. They’d hugged you and asked you how you were doing. They’d even asked after your pro hero boyfriend, who you had chosen not to bring along for the purpose of spending some quality alone time with your family.

But then it happened; the thing you’d been dreading, the type of comment you’d hoped against all things you wouldn’t hear this time. But there it was.

You were nearly done preparing for lunch, helping to place dishes of food out in the backyard for your family meal. Your aunt was starting to serve people food, and you happened to glance up to see one of your cousins making herself a plate.

“Do you want any more?” your aunt asked your cousin, ready with her ladle.

“No, thank you, I’ve got enough.” Your cousin flipped her long perfect hair over a perfectly narrow shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to get fat like—” her gaze wandered over to you, meeting your eyes pointedly, “—some people.”

You faltered. Had she really just said that? About you? Well, it wasn’t impossible that it would come from her, but seriously? Today?

You swallowed a lump that had started forming in your throat, setting down the new stack of paper plates. Your aunt shot you a pitying glance. Was she even going to say something? Would she call your cousin out on her words?

No. She just moved on. Moved on like you should have. But something about it stuck with you. Your cousin’s words and implications rang through your mind, making you feel sick to your stomach. You shouldn’t let it bother you this much. You were doing better, both with your habits and your confidence. So why did it hurt so bad?

The darker thoughts you’d kept at bay began to come back; you were worthless, you were ugly, you were undeserving. Why wouldn’t they stop? Why was your stomach churning and your hand shaking? Before you knew it, hints of tears began to prick at your eyes.

No.

You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing you this way. But you were no longer interested in staying, any sense of hunger leaving you for sick dread.

Next thing you knew, you had said an early goodbye and put your things in the car, headed back home. Maybe driving wasn’t the best idea, since now you were alone with your thoughts. But crying wasn’t worth it. It was a bad idea, especially since now was the time to focus on the road ahead.

You couldn’t have gotten home sooner, a sense of relief washing over you once you pulled into the driveway. You unlocked your front door, pulling your bags in behind you. You heard movement coming from the kitchen as you set everything down; the sound of the faucet turning off signaling to you that Katsuki had heard you come in.

Heaving a sigh, you tried to chase the negative thoughts from your head. They shouldn’t be there, and it wasn’t something to dwell on. You were home again, and you wouldn’t have to deal with your family for another few months at least.

Bakugou’s head peeked out from around the doorframe, double checking that it was you who had walked in. “What are you doing here?” he called, ducking back to whatever he’d been doing in the kitchen.

“Hello to you too.” You tried to keep the tartness out of your voice, but some of it must have crept back in. The sounds from the other room stopped again, and the house went eerily quiet. Huffing, you dragged your luggage into your shared bedroom.

You felt drained, that was the only way to describe it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hang your clothes in the closet. Giving up, you laid down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. You couldn’t help but hear your cousin’s words ringing over and over in your head, reminding you of the countless years of both internal and external torment you’d gone through regarding your weight.

The sound of footsteps in the doorway made you glance down, registering a spiky blond head of hair approaching you on the bed. You said nothing as the mattress dipped next to you, indicating that Bakugou had come up on your side.

The two of you were silent together for a long moment, and a stolen glance told you that Katsuki was mirroring you with his head resting on his arms as he stared at the blank ceiling.

“Are you going to tell me what’s got you in this mood?” he finally asked.

You sighed. “My cousin can just be a pain sometimes.”

“She the one you were telling me about or is it someone else?”

“Same girl.”

“Hmm.” Bakugou continued to keep his eyes trained solely up above. “What did she do this time?”

“Called me fat.” You tried to keep your voice even. You were simply stating a fact. It shouldn’t bother you like this, right? Even so, the tears you’d been forcing back once again rushed to your eyes, causing your tone to pitch. You swallowed them down again, blinking rapidly. This wasn’t something to spend time crying over.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Katsuki said, a little unhelpfully. “I don’t want to see you hating yourself.”

You frowned at this. “I don’t hate myself,” you said, thinking about your words for a moment before you spoke them. “I don’t hate my body. It’s just that . . . sometimes I wish it looked a little better, a little different. Sometimes I don’t feel like I’m enough as I am.”

“Don’t tell me you think you’d be happier looking like everyone else.” Bakugou’s gaze had shifted from a blank one to a glare.

“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging. “It’s just . . . hard sometimes. Being like this.”

Finally Bakugou rolled to face you, taking one of your hands in his. “I know you . . . struggle with your self-image or whatever, but you can’t let it take over your life, got it? You can’t just waste it worrying about what everyone thinks of you. You’re never going to be able to please everyone, but if they’ve got a problem with you, then they can go fuck themselves. You want to know the one person’s opinion who matters most? Yours. You have to be the one who’s taking care of yourself.” Katsuki paused for a moment, absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers as he considered his words.

“You want to know who’s opinion is the second most important?” he continued, his voice starting to get a little more mumbly. “Mine. I picked you because I love you. I love everything about you, from your shitty, annoying personality to your gorgeous body. You are so much more than just ‘enough’ for me, so don’t go worrying about that. You’re everything to me, and you know that, right? I love you no matter what, so don’t let this ruin your whole day.” He kissed your knuckles, signaling that he had said his peace.

You smiled at him, a tear or two finally sneaking past your defenses. “How—how do you do that?”

“What?”

“Sometimes you say something horribly stupid and I swear I hate you, and then next thing I know, you’re telling me everything I need to hear.”

“Tch, I can be eloquent whenever I want. It’s a choice.”

“Alright.” You rolled over so you could properly face him. “Can I have a hug?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, but nevertheless held open his arms. You happily snuggled into the hard, built muscle enveloping you, offering a beautiful contrast to your own soft body.

“Do you need me to talk to your cousin?” Bakugou asked. “I’ll do it.”

“Nah, let her go.” You nuzzled your nose into his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

______________

Kirishima:

You honestly expected your family to last longer when it came to keeping from upsetting you. Nevertheless, maybe you were being a little too optimistic. But come on, did they have to ruin everything the literal second you walked through the door?

Even after the scathing comment, followed by a half-hearted, hasty brushing off, you forced yourself to spend time with them. It wasn’t often that you got to see this half of your family, so you decided to ignore it with the rest of them.

But as you sat on the couch sipping tea, you were unable to focus on the light conversation buzzing around you. The event that happened mere minutes before played over again in your mind, causing you to wince.

You’d walked into the house, prepared to greet everyone and have a nice time, when your aunt looked up from her position on her arm chair. “Hello, (Y/N),” she’d begun. “Ah, look, you’re still fat.”

Your heart had almost literally stopped beating in your chest as you froze in the threshold. Had she just said what you thought you heard? You must have been mistaken, right?

Any positive anticipation you’d had of seeing your relatives had plummeted to your feet, and you strongly considered turning around in place and leaving without another word.

But you couldn’t do that, of course not. Then your aunt had begun to babble something about how it made you look cute like a baby, but her words had already done their damage.

You tolerated the rest of your afternoon with them, but it was a great relief to you when you were finally able to leave and go home. As soon as you pulled into your driveway, you exhaled a sigh of relief. It was over with, and it hadn’t been that bad.

Eijirou wasn’t home, but you knew he wouldn’t be long after you. You went about making dinner, knowing he’d appreciate it once he got home. He was always so tired these days.

Even so, as you stirred broth in a pot, your aunt’s words rang in your head. You vaguely remembered telling her about your weight loss a month ago. You figured you’d been making considerable progress, and you knew that no one was more proud of you than Eijirou himself. But had it really made a difference?

After a moment of fretting, you turned off the stove. You walked into your shared bedroom, flicking on the light. Your eyes caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. You frowned, going up to it. Turning your body this way and that, you tried to see if you recognized a change in your appearance. You lifted your shirt, only to wince at yourself and tug it back down. You pinched at your arms, your thighs, and your cheeks, growing almost angry at the way your fingers sunk into the flesh.

Maybe you hadn’t been making as much progress as you’d thought. Or the progress you had made wasn’t enough. Without you even realizing it, your mind began to toy with ways to speed things up. Guiltily, you found yourself wondering if Eijirou would notice if you just skipped dinner that night.

You shook your head to clear away the intrusive idea. No, that wouldn’t solve anything. Eijirou had told you that he’d help you lose weight the right way, so you’d stay healthy and be able to keep it off. It would be best to listen to him.

Still, you found your eyes glued to your reflection. You wouldn’t consider yourself vain, but there was something in the way that your eyes traced over your curves, wondering just how they might look on you if only you were a little smaller . . . .

Movement behind you in the mirror caught your eye, and you were quick to recognize a head of spiky red hair. You must not have heard Kirishima come in through the front door.

“Hello,” you said with less cheer than usual.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted you, coming up from behind to give you a hug.

You leaned back into his chest as you both stared at each other’s reflections.

“Checking out my perfect girlfriend?” he teased, referring to how your eyes continued to trace down your body. “That’s my job, you know.”

You snorted, gently rubbing at his forearm.

“So how was your family?”

“Okay,” you shrugged.

“I saw you left something on the stove. Are you doing okay?”

Oh, Kirishima. How did he do it?

You shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really have a good time there. Got a little upset is all.”

Eijirou frowned. “What happened?”

You took one of his hands in yours and began to play with his fingers, now determined to keep your eyes from catching another glimpse of yourself. “My aunt told me I was fat.”

You missed the flash of genuine anger that shot through Kirishima’s eyes. He knew this was something you’d struggled with for a long time. Your aunt had no business making comments like that about your body, especially now.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, deciding to keep himself calm for your sake.

You continued to fiddle with his large hands. “I just worry sometimes that I’m not doing enough,” you mumbled. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m just meant to look like this?” You sniffled, hating the sudden tears that were beginning to fill your eyes.

“Honey . . .” Eijirou spun you around and held you to his chest, running a hand down the back of your head as you finally let the tears slide down your face. You nuzzled into his shirt, appreciating the warm, familiar feeling of it. “Even if you weren’t able to lose more weight, you know I’d still love you, right?” he said in a tender voice. “I’d think you’re beautiful either way.”

He tilted your chin up so he could look into your eyes, giving you one of the most loving gazes you’d ever seen. “And besides, we’re not together because of how you look. I love you for you. I love your personality, and how you always say and do the cutest things.” He bent down for a quick kiss, caressing your cheek as he pulled away. “I love your laugh, and I love looking into your beautiful eyes . . . .” He kissed you again, beginning to gently guide your bodies to the bed at the other wall.

Eijirou laid you down in the center of the mattress, hovering over you as he went in for another kiss. “I love your body too. This body, just the way it is. I love how it feels to hold you at night—” he kissed your neck. “—I love your chest, your butt, your arms, your thighs—” he nuzzled his nose against your face and neck. “—your cute tummy.” He pushed himself up and gazed down at it with such a genuine expression of love, you almost started tearing up again. “The cutest tummy in the world. And I love it because it’s yours.”

With that, he bent down again and lifted up your shirt just enough to give it a little kiss. You couldn’t help but let a giggle slip from your lips, which only made his ruby red eyes dart up to meet yours mischievously.

“You like that? What if I did it . . . again!” He placed a second kiss in a different spot, going for another and then another. You broke out into laughter, the sensation of his lips and nose brushing over your sensitive skin making you squirm in his hold.

Soon, he was laughing himself. He nuzzled into your skin one last time and blew a raspberry against your skin.

“Eiji—!” you began to protest through a laugh.

“What?” He smirked at you, moving up and settling his chin in the valley of your chest.

You smiled right back at him, bringing up your hand to brush the backs of your fingers against his cheek. “I love you.”

Kirishima took hold of your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the backs of your knuckles as he looked into your eyes. “I love you too, baby.” He held your hand in his, getting lost for a moment simply looking at your face.

Eventually he sat up, laying down next to you and pulling you into his chest. “I’m proud of you too,” he told you, tucking your head under his chin. “I know you’re actively making a change for the better, and you’re doing really well. Results won’t happen immediately, you just have to stick with it sometimes.”

You sighed through your nose, taking his hand in yours again. “I know. I just get discouraged sometimes is all.”

“And I’ll just be here to put you back on track. You’ve got this, you know.” He hugged you tight against him, rubbing your back. “Are you hungry?” he finally asked. “I’ll help you make dinner.”

“Sure,” you said, chuckling lightly.

“What? We both have to eat, and you know me. I’m a hungry shark.”

You laughed again, leaning up to kiss his jaw.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Well, there’s always more where that came from.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m here for you, okay?”

______________

Kaminari:

If there was one thing Denki hated more than anything, it was seeing you upset. 

He could tell something was off the moment you came through the front door. You were too quiet, and that bothered him. When you finally made it up to your shared room, Kaminari was already watching the doorway for you.

He noticed immediately that your eyes were puffy and a little red. Even your posture looked defeated and slumped over.

“Hey, Denks,” you said once you noticed him stretched out on the bed. His heart broke even further when he saw you try for a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” Kaminari got up, clearing the space between you so he could put his hands on your shoulders.

“I—I just,” you began to stammer out, feeling the flimsy dam you’d placed behind your eyes begin to falter. “I . . . don’t know if I want to talk about it right now.” You covered your burning face with your palms. “It’s stupid anyway. I shouldn’t let things like that get to me.”

Kaminari frowned, trying to figure out what might have made you so upset. But he wasn’t one to pry when it came to situations like these, and he knew you’d tell him on your own time.

Even so, he led you to where he’d once taken position on the bed, pulling you up with him. He knew that sometimes you simply wanted to be distracted from things, so he decided to do just that. Allowing you to settle in next to him, he picked his controller up from the covers again where he’d set it down.

You noticed he’d been playing Minecraft. You let yourself take a mild interest in his mining session that you caught him in the middle of. You watched him wander through a cave system; placing torches, killing the occasional zombie, and mining out various ores he happened upon.

What you didn’t see was how often he shot you glances, studying your face for any signs of you getting upset again. He saw when you finally took your eyes off his screen, frowning distantly as you twisted the material of the blanket underneath you.

Before he could ask you again what was going on, you opened your mouth to speak. “Do you think this outfit is too much?”

Denki faltered, confused. “No? What do you mean by that? I think you look really pretty.”

You pursed your lips. Clearly that wasn’t the answer you’d wanted. “I just—I don’t know.” You frowned and went back to avoiding his eyes.

“Are you going to tell me what happened today?” Denki asked. A sudden idea struck him. Before you could answer him again, he stood up on the bed and walked over to a shelf you kept just above it. He pulled down a large stuffed Pikachu he’d gotten you a few years ago, and went back to sitting next to you. “Would it be easier to tell him?”

Denki positioned the toy in his lap, grabbing hold of its little arms and letting it go through various motions, starting with a little wave at you.

You couldn’t help but snort at Kaminari’s antics, looking from the plushie to the curious but concerned expression on your boyfriend’s face.

“Your Pikachus are worried about you.” Denki lifted it up higher on his chest, continuing to fidget and wave the arms back and forth in a little dance. “You saw your family today, right? How did that go?”

Your face fell again and you shrugged. “It went well I guess. My grandma just said something dumb and it made me upset.”

Denki frowned, lifting the arms of the Pikachu so its hands were on its pink cheeks. “What did she say?”

You shrugged again. “I was messing around with my cousins and I said I looked like a snacc. And then she said that snacks were probably what made me so fat in the first place.”

Denki’s frown deepened. “That’s not very nice.”

“I don’t think she knew what I was talking about, to be fair. And maybe it’s a little funny. I mean, she’s not wrong.” You rested your chin in your hands, sighing. “It just caught me off guard. It’s a dumb thing to be upset over, like I said—”

“Hey.” Denki met your eyes. “It’s not dumb. You have every right to be upset.” He held his arms open to you. “Come here.”

You sat up, letting him embrace you.

“Do you need me to remind you how beautiful you are and how much I love you?” he asked from next to your ear. “Because I’ll do it.”

He took your shy smile as a yes, letting you settle back as he proceeded to lift up the stuffed yellow toy.

“Are you hearing this, bro?” he addressed it, throwing a serious look on his face. “The most gorgeous person on the planet is sad. We have to do something about it.”

Denki put the Pikachu’s paw on its chin, tapping it for a second before removing it again. “What’s that?” he asked it. “You have an idea?”

He lifted the toy to his ear, pretending to listen to it for a moment as he nodded along. Once he was satisfied, Denki scooched himself even closer to you. He brought Pikachu’s nose up to your cheek and made a kiss sound with his lips. Setting the toy down beside you on the bed, he motioned for you to come sit in his lap.

You obeyed, settling yourself in between his thighs and wrapping your legs around his hips.

“There you go,” he muttered, slotting his nose beside yours as he touched foreheads with you. “I love you and you’re the most important person in my life. You know that, right?” He waited for you to nod before continuing. “And I know that you can feel a little insecure sometimes with how you look. You’ve got bad days, and you have good days. It’s my job to be there for you on these bad days, and you can be there for me when I have mine. I want you to know that you’re so beautiful and I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

He connected your lips to his for a long moment, trying to convey all his feelings for you into it. “And don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re less-than. They’re not the kind of person you should be listening to. Trust me when I say that you’re perfect just being you.” Denki wiped a tear trail off your cheek with his thumb, leaning in to kiss the skin there. 

“Thanks, Denki,” you said, your voice just above a whisper.

He gave you a soft, caring smile; his fingers still lingering on your cheek. “Is there anything you want to do together to make you feel better? We could watch a movie, we could snuggle, whatever you want.”

You leaned in and hugged him tight. “I love you.”

He hugged you back. “I love you too. You’re my sunshine nugget, and it would take a heck of a lot to ever change that.”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @fourteenow​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​​ @nabo39​ @onepieceask​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @xoxopam4​​ 

[dickwheelie]

as @danistoker so eloquently put it, nonverbal jon (:

dani was kind enough to sensitivity read but I am not neurodivergent or nonverbal, so if anything about this is uncool please let me know!

___________

There are days when Jon will wake up and Martin will just know. Martin will be brewing tea or putting his breakfast together, and Jon will wander out of the bedroom an hour after him, as he always does, and Martin will know. Jon doesn’t mumble a “G’morning,” on those days. Instead he’ll meet Martin’s eyes and give him a bleary smile, and if Martin isn’t holding a hot pan he’ll wrap his arms around Martin’s shoulders and squeeze. And Martin will know.

Those days in the safehouse are quiet. Something about Jon’s quiet makes everything else around him follow suit, including Martin. He finds himself hesitant to say anything frivolous, like hello or goodbye or thank you. Martin’s never been so aware of how unnecessary most of his speech is, until those quiet safehouse days. So many words mean so little, and so much energy is spent saying them, for no purpose at all.

Jon, on those quiet days, communicates with him in looks, gestures, touches. And perhaps, every once in a while, for a moment, there will be confusion, but Martin understands quickly enough. Most of the time, it’s pure intuition. Meaning deeper than language. A warm hand on the arm. An incredulous look across the table. The angry shaking of a damp box of matches.

He doesn’t tell Jon this, because they are still new to this, and boundaries are tricky, but Martin loves the quiet that Jon brings with him. He loves how it settles around the safehouse like a blanket. It isn’t oppressive, like the silence of the Lonely; no, it couldn’t be further. The silence of the Lonely had been thin and cold and heartless. Jon’s quiet is warm, cozy. Loving. It’s the quiet of familiarity, of home. There is a richness in the quiet Jon brings, addition rather than subtraction. You could, Martin thinks, fancifully, bake it into bread dough and subsist on it alone.

On other days, Jon will say “I love you,” and this is wonderful, and more than enough, and Martin relishes it. But on quiet days, Jon will bury his face in Martin’s neck, or hold his hand between both of his and pull it towards his chest, or just look at him. And Martin will feel like he’s drowning, in the best sort of way.

Sometimes, they will spend those quiet mornings sitting across from one another at the tiny, rickety kitchen table, each nursing mugs of tea, taking occasional sips as the sun rises outside the window, understanding everything they need to, and Martin will never have any words to describe that kind of beauty.

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

I can see us Lost in the Memory

Summary: Caring is not an advantage. To Mycroft, this was a belief he found through the calculated logic that ruled his life. If was analytical and detached and certainly had nothing to do with Sherlock or the childhood neighbor.

Love You to the Moon and to Saturn

A/N: In a break from my regularly scheduled SVU writing, here’s a four part Folklore inspired Mycroft Holmes thing.

Salt air, and the rust on your door I never needed anything more Whispers of "Are you sure?" "Never have I ever before"

When the Holmes parents invited Ruth on their vacation to start the summer, she couldn’t resist the chance. Her mom would be busy, and the family would be staying on a beach in a little house for a week. You’re just so good with both my boys Mrs. Holmes had said with a soft smile as she pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Since Christmas, she’d had late night phone calls with Mycroft regularly, sneaking the handset for the phone to her room and staying up to happily listen to the minutiae of his day and tell him about her own. To help calm his worries, she took to dropping by to visit Sherlock. But this trip in May would be their first time together save a stolen weekend after midterms where she’d made it to Oxford.

When she arrived at their usual home, not the country house she was so used to, Sherlock darted out, wrapping around her as she laughed. He was almost not a little boy anymore, though she was certain he’d find something broken that they’d try to rebuild together.  She could see Mycroft’s frame in the doorway, and her breath caught. He’d only gotten stuffier since going to Oxford, always in a suit. It worked for him or she’d have teased him mercilessly for it. There was also the fact that she was simply overjoyed to see him. 

“Missed you,” she said softly, looking up at him as Sherlock watched them suspiciously before going back into the house.

“And I missed you, Ruth.”

“Mummy, I think Mycroft and Ruth are going to start snogging.” The youngest Holmes ran to the kitchen, and Ruth flushed a deep pink and giggled as the very tips of Mycroft’s ears changed color.

“Do you care if she knows?” Ruth asked, and Mycroft was acutely aware of the power he had to hurt Ruth in that moment. He would never dream of it, but this would potentially be over in three years, at which point hurting her would be inevitable. But still he held out hope he could balance both.

“Not at all,” he said softly, the same dignified air he always carried. But instead of staying away as he led her in, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips before placing a hand on the small of her back and leading her into the house. His mother and father had the kindness to leave them be, and the drive went smoothly. When Sherlock became antsy, Ruth watched as Mycroft told him about people he’d encountered at university, problems in the dorms. It was a game the pair had always played when Sherlock had to be kept still too long. The younger Holmes would tell Mycroft how obvious it was his roommate's girlfriend had been eating all the food from the common area, and Mycroft would pretend he hadn’t figured it out with the same reasoning.

“Ruth, come here,” Mrs. Holmes had said, calling her to the kitchen as she left the boys to unload bags from the car. “Are you dating my son?”

“I love him very much.”

“The boys are in the last room on the left. You’ll be the first on the right. Behave yourselves, allright?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The evening found them watching Sherlock as Mr. and Mrs. Holmes went to dinner, and since Christmas, he’d discovered documentaries again, sprawling on the couch to watch one on pirates. It was good to see some things didn’t change. What had changed was that Mycroft was willing to give him a little more space. They cooked dinner together, and Ruth was rewarded with soft brushes of his hand over her back as he passed. She suspected he’d always be himself, not one for casual affection when someone could see. But when his brother was tucked into bed, there were soft kisses that grew more desperate and whispered confirmation they were both sure. She stole the Oxford sweatshirt from his bag after, determined not to let his mother find them anything but decent but wanting to keep everything on her as some extension of him.

“I don’t know why they got you a sweatshirt anyway,” she teased lightly, watching him smoke in the dark. “I’ve never seen you in a shirt without a collar.”

“I suppose mummy thought I might wear it to sleep. I don’t think she expected it to be worn by someone else during a post-coital cigarette.” He wore cotton pajama pants and a plain t-shirt, though she expected he had sets with collared shirts for when he was at school. The wind blew in from the water, and she wished she’d grabbed pants instead of letting the crewneck serve as a dress. He noticed her shiver, holding out an arm as he exhaled smoke. She pressed against his side and his arm wrapped around her. 

“Just someone?” she teased. “You know, I think I might be your girlfriend.”

“How is that any different than we’ve always been?”

“It means we build a future together. Don’t date other people. Communicate regularly.”

“I suppose you are my girlfriend,” he said, though she could tell he didn’t particularly care for the word. 

“So you think about a future with me?”

“Constantly,” he admitted, choosing to omit how much of that was grappling with the danger Rudy’s position could put her in when he took over. That he’d have to eventually tell her about Eurus. But he was young and selfish and certain he could separate it.

Your back beneath the sun Wishin' I could write my name on it Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinkin' I had you

Ruth had never been able to get Mycroft to the beach in anything but a polo shirt, but it seemed the way the last of his baby fat had melted off at university meant he was willing to join his brother and Ruth in the water. He still wore a polo shirt and boat shoes with his swim shorts, but he slipped both off and followed when Sherlock beckoned he and Ruth to join him in finding the sandbar. He almost said no until he saw how giddy Ruth looked as she peeled the other unworn bit of Oxford merchandise he’d acquired: a t-shirt that would have fit had he not lost weight. He liked seeing it on Ruth; it made him realize he was getting territorial.

“C’mon,” Sherlock called to them from the water’s edge. 

“We’re coming, Sherlock,” Mycroft scolded gently. “You must wait so we can be sure the tide doesn’t whisk you away.”

“Don’t scare him,” Ruth said, swatting his arm before she hurried and ruffled his brother’s hair. “We’ll find the sandbar, but then Mycroft and I are going to come back to land. I think you ought to see how big of a sandcastle you can make. Maybe even big enough you can hide in it.”

“Do you think there are artifacts in the sand, Ruth?”

“Probably not ones we’ll want to keep. But maybe bottles or keys.” The tide was low enough when they waded to the sandbar that Ruth and Mycroft could sit on it and watch as Sherlock ran along. He could dig as well, finding shells and loading them into the pockets of his swim shorts.

“Why must we be in this wet sand instead of on the towels on land?” Mycroft huffed, and Ruth poked his side.

“Your brother missed you. He likes you being close, even if you aren’t a part of his excavation. He’ll want to build soon, and since shells aren’t restorable like a trowel, he’ll go back to land for a sandcastle.”

“He only yells when I call him.”

“And what does he yell about?” Ruth had heard Sherlock during one of these calls. One of the calls where Sherlock yelled at Mycroft for leaving. But this would pass. She always promised Mycroft that it would pass, and Sherlock would understand his big brother would always come home. 

“Don’t look so proud,” Mycroft huffed.

“It’s not often I’m the one who’s right.”

“You’re often right when it comes to feelings.”

“I love you. My big brained robot.”

“I love you, my darling.”

“That sounds way more romantic than big brained robot. But god, I like hearing you say it. I know it isn’t easy for you.”

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.” He had a glint in his eye as he looked down at her, and she smiled broadly up at him, delight apparent.

“You read Jane Austen?”

“Everyone does.”

“You only store things you want, Mycroft.”

“When I read it, I thought of you. I was fifteen. I was a fool and didn’t process what that meant for another year. But whenever I read a poem or a novel and they talk about ardent love, your face is my first thought. I wish I were someone who spoke so eloquently of his own feelings. But I do not understand why I love you. It honestly perplexes me. You are wild and hard headed and love the most mindless things. But I would gladly listen to you describe popular music or the intricacies of a flower crown for hours because of the way your smile and laugh sound more melodic than any symphony. What is unbearable in others only serves to make affection blossom when it is in you. Perhaps it’s because I feel I understand you like I can’t understand most, and I feel that you see me not just as some big brained robot but as who I am. And I am grateful for that, even if it perplexes me to no end.”

 “God, you really can be sappy,” she said, tearing up as she wrapped around his middle. Without his parents or peers there, he was more comfortable to stay sitting as perfectly upright as ever, but slip an arm around Ruth and press a lingering kiss to the top of her head. “You’ll keep calling when you go back to school, right?”

“I will. And we’ll figure how to see each other. I know it hasn’t been easy. Uncle Rudy has so much for me to do on top of my course work.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Mycroft. It’s four to six years we have to get through. We can do that.”

“Have you thought about university?”

“Cambridge or Oxford. The latter, while a delightful institution, is due to a bias for a certain student.”

“What do you want to study?”

“I think I’d be a good teacher. Kids Sherlock’s age.”

“You’ve always done well keeping him engaged. That’s a feat in and of itself. But, I always expected that you’d pursue English. Write.”

“I need a job.”

“Writing is a job. You could work in editing too. But, you write so beautifully. And it makes you so happy. I’m certain you would flourish. It may be harder, but you’re intelligent enough to parallel plan and work until you’re published.”

“You really think so?”

“I know. And I’m always right.”

“Cambridge is about as far as London from you. Or maybe I’ll go to Oxford.”

“I just want you to select the institution you wish to learn from. I’m sure we can find a halfway point. If not, we can alternate visiting each other.”

“You wouldn’t feel weird if I showed up in your daily life?”

“You’re a part of my daily life. It would be a perpetual summer. Who wouldn’t wish for that?”

“We’ve just only ever had the summer.”

“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there? I suspect you’ll tire of me when you realize I’m relaxed in the summers.”

“I imagine you wear suits everyday. And your socks, tie, and pocket square all match.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling. I don’t wear a tie every day.”

“Oh, there are pictures of  Mycroft in a suit with no tie. Is the top button undone? This is simply scandalous.”

She stretched herself up to kiss him, no hesitation now and fingers brushing through auburn hair. Only the screeched order to Stop being so gross from Sherlock convinced them to pull apart, and Ruth was quite sure he was grinning down at her.

Back when we were still changin' for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all

“Are we going to have to chase the two of you from each other's rooms all summer?”

“Mummy, she is my girlfriend. Is it the worst thing if I sleep beside her?”

“You’ll do more than sleep.”

“Yes, Violet, because a bed is the only place teenagers will shag. Never a field or a car or the storeroom at their job. They’re good kids. Leave them be.”

“Siger, this is the third time in a week! Do you want to deal with her mother when we return? She’ll be chasing our boy from her house night after night.”

“Since when does Ruth sleep in her own home? She’s in our guest room most nights. We can feign propriety if it is of such importance and say ‘Oh! I didn’t know he’d snuck into her room’ if for whatever reason Debora learns.”

Ruth was by Mycroft’s side, cheeks pink as she watched his parents. They’d tried to be careful, but she never woke up in time to hurry to her own room. She wanted to tell them her own mother wouldn’t notice anyway, so she should be able to climb into bed with Mycroft. They were talking about flats at Oxford, little ones they would stuff full of books and she’d ensure were always stocked with flowers. She’d made up her mind she’d go there. Mycroft was ready to tell Rudy he was in love, and it didn’t matter what the job entailed; Mycroft could balance it if it meant he’d have Ruth. For once, he was hopeful.

“Both of you, listen to me,” he said firmly, arm around Ruth. “Where do you think she stayed when she visited me at Oxford? This began at Christmas, so I hardly believe it to be a phase. I love her, and upon her graduation, we intend to get a flat near the university. Accept it now, or accept it later. It does not matter to me. This is the reality.”

“You’re following him to Oxford?” Violet seemed to be appraising her now. 

“Yes.”

“You really do love him?”

“Yes.”

“Just don’t make me a grandmother any time soon,” she said finally, obviously acquiescing as her husband followed her to the kitchen again with quiet assurances they’d be fine. Ruth’s cheeks were pink, but she wrapped around Mycroft and kissed him.

“What is that for?”

“You professed your love for me to your parents? You finally put your foot down over something and it's me?”

“I wish to maximize every moment I have you by my side between now and August.”

“I’ll miss you so much.”

“We’ll sort it out. Two terms. Then you’ll follow me to Oxford.” 

“Ruth will leave too?” The soft voice of Sherlock came from the hall, and she pulled away from Mycroft to kneel by him. 

“It’ll be just like the end of summer,” she promised. “It was harder with your brother because he lives with you. But, you usually only see me in the summer, and I’ll still be here for every summer. Who else will help me excavate the garden?”

“Why does everyone go to Oxford?”

“They don’t. But lots of people go to uni, and you will too one day. You’ll get a degree to be a detective or an archaeologist or marine biologist.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“It’s a whole year away. You’ll be a teenager.”

“I guess that’s an okay time for you to go to Oxford.” He bent to look around her to his brother. “You could do well to learn from her, Mycroft.”

“You need to stop being so rude. He’s getting a degree so he can afford to keep you out of trouble forever and ever, kiddo.”

“I’m never in trouble.” 

“Mhm. Never, ever have I scooped you up before mummy could catch you performing experiments.”

“Shh!”

Ruth simply laughed, moving to stand again, Sherlock’s gaze again fluctuating between bored and curious about the world around him as she moved to sit in the arm chair beside the one Mycroft had settled into with his book. She opened her own, feet tucked under her, reaching towards him and resting her hand on the small table between them. He looked at it before resting his hand in hers.

“I like this,” she said softly. He made a noise of agreement, legs crossed. “I could get used to it.”

“We’ve a whole summer ahead, dear.”

That night found them tangled in bedsheets, not bothering to pretend he was going to be sleeping in the room with Sherlock. He rather liked sleeping by her, and he was grateful she was so content to lay against his side, close enough it was intimate and safe, but not requiring their bodies to be tangled. But she did like to play with his hands, especially in the afterglow. She would trace the lines of his palms or the veins on the back of his hand, watching her own actions in the moonlight. He stopped her tonight, letting his fingers slip between hers. She smile down at him, her hair a curtain as she leaned to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Get some sleep, Ruth.”

“Does anyone ever take care of you, Mycroft?”

“I don’t need to be taken care of.”

“Everyone does. And I’m going to from here on out, okay?”

“I don’t need to be taken care of.”

“How often do you sit in the sun and read for pleasure at Oxford?”

“There isn’t time.”

“I’ll make sure there is when I’m there. You need to give yourself breaks.” He didn’t agree, but instead of arguing, he pulled her to his side, deciding he could tangle himself with her awhile, savoring the closeness. 

“You are too gentle for this world, darling. Please never change.”

[so-i-dont-forget-again]

So I Don’t Forget Again: A Breath of The Wild fanfiction

Entry 208: Zora’s Domain

 Sidon made me breakfast. He made things I had taught him to make back at Hateno, he had to wake up very early to get the ingredients on time. He tried to hide it, but I could see he was a little sleepy through the whole day, he’s had such little rest. I really appreciate this, him just focusing on me, almost like there’s nothing else, but I don’t want him to push himself. Though I want to thank him all the same. He just makes me feel so special and safe, in a way unlike anything else, I guess. I feel like he really sees me, like he truly wants me. I don’t know how to describe this, but I want to. I want to pour these feelings into these pages, have him read this so he can know just how much he means to me, how he’s an irreplaceable part of my life, how he

I just want him to know as amazing as he finds me, I find him to be just the same. He’s much more eloquent with words than me, so maybe he’d know how to write this, but I want to at least try, even if this is just kinda incoherent thoughts by now.

We went to market, it’s a bit away from town, but that’s because it’s more of a trading area so Hylians and Gorons and others can get there easier than going through the canyon to the town. We did some shopping but we heard a lot of rumors. A new hero appearing, one who couldn’t be the reincarnated one. A hero who did not wield the blade of evil’s bane but a trident, instead of working in service of the princesses, or royalty, or goddess they worked for the people, a blond gender ambiguous Hylian who slew a massive, fearsome beast all to get ingredients for a medicine for a gerudo woman’s sick husband they didn’t even know, a person who helped the descendants of the champions calm all the Divine Beasts soon after their rampages began, a person who is a brother to the strong gorons, a person who had begun to teach others how to fend for themselves, on and on it went, even false or exaggerated tales. They were all about one simple person who served the people for their sake and nothing else. This person was not grand or flashy, they were only recognized since tridents are an uncommon weapon and even more uncommon for hylians outside of the royal family to be blond, two odd, eye catching characteristics and people made the connections from there. Sidon told me it just seemed fitting that the “Hero of the People” would wish to use all his peoples’ fighting styles, a person who was strong with all their power, their best qualities united.

I guess it is fitting. Before being the chosen hero or whatever felt like a burden, but this time, it felt different, it didn’t feel bad, like there’s this cumbersome weight I just can’t carry. I’m being called a hero for things I have done already, not things I’m expected to do, I think that’s the difference. I think Sidon could tell too. He admitted he was a little nervous about this, but if I did react badly, he wanted to be beside me so he could comfort me and not have me over hear this some other place far away and for my thoughts to go dark again. And we had the whole day to be together so we could do something fun to get my mind off it.

We had a lovely walk back. Bossa Nova kept trying to steal some of the ingredients we ended up running part of the way as he chased us. He even tried nibbling on my hair to get my attention. Sidon tried scolding him, but Bossa Nova didn’t care. After gifting a Hearty Radish he calmed down, but Sidon said I shouldn’t spoil him, that he’ll just take advantage of that and eat through all my non-meat supplies sooner or later. But then he just looked at me for a moment, smiled and shook his head before turning back to the trail ahead. When I asked him what that meant he told me he couldn’t find my behavior endearing and that I need to learn how to say ‘no’ sometimes. I guess he is a prince, he has to make decisions for his people, and he’ll likely have to say ‘no’ sometimes, but how can you say no to a cute hungry capybara! Besides I don’t think he would have stopped trying to knock us over till he was fed so I don’t think it could have been THAT bad. Just a treat. He’s a good boy, he needs the love. Sidon then gasped and said this must be why Bossa Nova likes me more now. It was clear he was play acting, playing up the moment but his reaction did get Bossa Nova to charge at him and knock him into the river for hugs. Much of the fruit started floating down river and it took a while to collect it all.

We cooked lunch together, a fusion between Rito and Zora cuisine. I always love cooking with him, well I just like cooking, but especially with him. Food reflects it’s culture and traditions, cooking is literally making something to help the other keep living and making it enjoyable all the while. I don’t think I need food, not anymore at least, but I can still enjoy it, making it and tasting it with others. Eating and cooking with others feels different than on your own, it only makes sense, food reflects people and so more people would surely make it taste better. All this to say I just really enjoyed lunch. And Bossa Nova still ate his meal so giving him his treat was not spoiling him! He didn’t eat his whole thing though, but that’s not the point! He still ate it… I guess it’s because I don’t get hungry I don’t see the point in having scheduled meals. Sidon said that was not the point, the point being Bossa Nova acting bratty to get whatever he wants. But could it be so bad, all he ever wants is food or extra affection.

Sidon asked if I knew how long I can hold my breath for. Much of his kingdom is underwater and he wanted to show more of it to me. Zoras really are made for the water, even the shape of their heads are kind of like arrows so they can effortlessly pierce through it. I know fish need fins to swim, I wonder how fins help Zora swim. They’re just stunning racing past, or at least Sidon is. Even with my complete zora armor set swimming can be a struggle but for him it’s effortless, he can go in circles and make twists and turns so quickly. Light seems much starker underwater, either bright or dark, I notice his glowy parts much more, I still can’t tell if they’re always glowing or if the glow activates when he’s in shade.

His home underwater looks similarish to land with similar plants, but there are also very different ones I don’t even know where to begin describing them. Some are kind of like flat dishes and others more spindly, then there are others that are wrinkly, I’ve never seen plants like those in the rivers before. There are some like stone, Sidon says they’re called coral and are plants oddly enough. Many of these only grow in the domain, but there are similar ones in the ocean. I wondered if any could be used in cooking, as they are plants zoras have never tried and Sidon was rather keen on assisting me if I tried working with them.

His kingdom underwater is so much larger than on the surface. Sidon and his people could so easily be separated from the rest of the world and be just fine. Their most important places like the throne room are on the surface so others can more easily reach them. That is something he’s always had been so appreciative of his ancestors for doing. His people, they’ve always been distant from the rest of Hyrule whether they lived solely underwater or some place out of reach or hidden away, of all times this current era is likely the closest they have been to others even with being separated by a distant canyon still. He doesn’t like this distance, even if it is better than before. After the champions fell and the hylians had no leader, everyone mostly went their own ways and more of a divide was created between everyone, sure there’s trade and the mail service but other than that, nothing, no alliance promises or at least documents stating they were at peace with one another, there’s nothing except for the few individuals who sought out pay from others, that’s why he finds what I’m doing to be so incredible. This legend I’m making just by being myself, becoming something or someone everyone can connect too or want to strive for. A kind of hero he could only have dreamed of. I told him I can’t do anything like uniting everyone, I’ve just lived with them and gotten to know them, he however, someone who knows how to lead others, someone who can understand and relate to others so easily or through his sheer determination, his hunger to know others better, wanting those connections, he could become someone who could lead and unite hyrule. He told me uniting hyrule again was going to be a monumental task, surely one he could not handle on his own, he’d definitely need someone who’s on good terms with everyone, and more importantly a partner by his side, someone he could lean on during the rough days, someone who could emotionally support him and just be by his side, just someone precious to him to keep close.

How tenderly he held my hands and stroked them with his thumbs, and just that way he looked at me. I don’t know what I was feeling but it was so warm, and soft, and like my chest was fluttering. Just… how he wants me, not just for what I can do, he just wants me. He wants me to be there because he just wants to share his life with me, I just happen to get some additional satisfaction since I know I get to help, but even if I couldn’t I KNOW he’d want me to be there with him and it just…

It means so much to me.

Today was just so nice.

After leading me to my room he collapsed on the bed. I don’t know about him, but I know swimming definitely takes a lot of energy and he was already working with little sleep, at least this way I know for certain he’s getting rest. I hope nobody comes here looking for him. For now, I guess I should get some sleep myself.

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