#Havoc and Bright Lights

[jakejackjoockjake]

Feeling some Alanis today

[diejager]

Imagine that the hybrid 141 was getting a teammate and that teammate was a hybrid and Laswell wanted it to be a surprise for the team what they are as in hybrid was and soon as they get off the aircraft and onto the tarmac, the boys realize that they’re with another dragon hybrid and her “heat” would be soon upon her (dark blue in to black better for stealth or, whatever you prefer, she also has her wings) how would the boys handle that you can take the story anyway you want 

This… I might make it self-indulging because this idea has been clawing at the back of my mind for a long while. Cw: mating/heat cycle, fire/water magic, tell me if I missed any.

Laswell had Price wait for the surprise she had planned, the secret she kept from them when they received your file. It had all he asked for in attributes and skills, but all things personal that should have been on it were scratched out in black. He was told that it was a need to know basis, your name, age or species wouldn’t be divulged unless you told them yourself. He knew you from words from mouth to ear, ad read of your skill and efficiently but nothing he heard and found told him an ounce about you as a person. Your character was a mystery he died to know.

So when he got word from Laswell that your ETA was just over half an hour, he had the boys reconvene to the airstrip, watching the aircraft carrying you land not too far from them, the rotors slowing to a steady thrum. The anticipation that bubble din his chest made this moment crawl at a snail’s pace, the ramp lowering too slowly for his liking and the droning sound of the aircraft’s irking his ears. Then, seconds after the ramp fully dropped, he caught sight of blue horns, tines growing from a singular robust beam, segmented like those of a scale. Your head, covered by a custom made helmet to let your antlers peek out and sit comfortably on your head (at least you wore something, unlike his constant frustration with finding one that wouldn’t bother his horns), followed after you walked out, decked in your gear and a bag slung over your shoulders. 

You weren’t what he was expecting, not exactly. He read that you had a masterful experience in hydromancy, stealing water from the air and humidity and contorting it to cause havoc in the field and cutting through the enemy. He and the others shared their theories, one possibility made you into a water witch, a leviathan, or one of those creepy monsters from the deep sea. Not what… whatever you were. You had elk-like horns painted in the deepest blue he’d ever seen and a tail covered in scales of the same shade, glistening under the light like it was wet with tufts of hair - or was it fur? - crawling down the base of your fourth limb to create a silky and soft end with long, slowing locks. 

What were you? What was that smell? It got sweeter the closer you got, a softness that clung to his nose and made him salivate. He wondered how strong it must be for the Soap and König who’s noses were more enhanced and sensitive than any others, they’d probably sniff the source - you - out and answer his undying question.

“Captain Price,” you nodded your head, a small smile gracing your lips, your slitted eyes narrowed in greeting, “Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

That sweetness lingered around you and stuck to his hand when you shook hands, giving him a firm shake and stronger grip that he could admire for the strength you showed. Had you face been as bright as it was a few seconds before? Perhaps it was the musk that oozed off you, it was uneasily addicting and pleasing to his lizard brain, slowly moving the cogs of hos old machine. He watched you take a step back, making some distance between his Task Force and you, and his mind got clearer, nose less stuffy and cheeks wash away the slight flush. Then it hit him, the sweetness, the dazed perception of you and the growing need in his body, he was reacting to you. 

“Sorry, I was told I’d be off for the week once I landed,” you cocked your head, sharing an apologetic smile, “My cycle follows the Lunar year.”

Ah, everything made more sense now, the gracefulness of your beautiful tail, the glistening of your scales and the sharpness of your horns. He had agreed to welcome another dragon to his Task Force, he was fortunate that Asian dragons were calmer and benevolent than his European counterpart. 

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[eyesxxyou]

First Time 💋

🩸・・・l. howlett x fem!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.5k

synopsis. you were everything logan shouldn't want. young, religious, and innocent. you were sweet to everyone. and you've never been touched. logan wants to be your first everything.

warnings. age gap relationship (reader is 21, Logan is nearing 50) , religious reader, innocent reader, explicit consent, blood, taking of virginity, a bit of toxic relationship dynamics, logan is not a good person, not edited

↳ pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3

You were dealing with the devil in disguise and you didn't even know it. For even the devil was once an angel, the most beautiful angel in heaven. That’s the way he tempts even the purest souls into damnation. And you were his latest victim.

Your purity was hanging by the thinnest thread called “virginity” which you were steadfast in not giving up. Logan wasn't pushing it by any means. Slowly but surely, you were giving up pieces of yourself to him. Giving away slices of your precious soul until before even you knew it, you had given him your entire cake. In fact, he had taught you how to give a blow job, confined you to let him hump against your clothed pussy, then eventually against the bare thing.

Logan was growing ever closer to obtaining you, possessing you wholly.

You had already gone home for the night when there was a steady, polite knock at his door. Logan, with a cigar hanging from between his lips, initially thought it was you. That was how you knocked, with a small rhythm and a tender politeness.

But much to his dismay, when he opened the door, Logan found that it was not you, but your father standing before him, still dressed in his Sunday best.

Now, for a moment, Logan thought that this was it. You had either been caught or in some sort of religious guilt, you had confessed everything. Either way, he was sure he had been busted and your father had come to wreak havoc upon him. Either way, he wasn't scared. At the end of the day you were two grown people who had made their decisions. 

“Mr. Howlett, nice to see you again.” Your father smiled. There was no malice or ill intent. You were both in the clear. Logan took his cigar from his mouth and put it out in the ashtray beside the door. “I hope I’m not disturbing your night.” He could see where you got your politeness from. Your father was a good, mild-mannered man. Average on all accounts. But he made a spectacular girl of you.

“Not at all, Reverend.”

Your father, with his hands crossed nicely at his front, was smiling politely. Logan wondered if he knew you had just been here. He wondered if he knew that he had his daughter on her knees with his dick in her mouth. Did he know that he came on your face? Did he know that your mouth felt like heaven?

“I was wondering if you could come by my house tomorrow. Unfortunately we have a bit of an issue with the pipes in our kitchen. I wanted to know if you could take a look.” It was innocent enough but the idea of being in your house made Logan almost swell and explode. He tried to hide the smile, the enthusiasm behind his “sure, I can take a look”.

“Great, thank you for your kindness, Mr. Howlett.” Logan can almost hear your voice in his. Small, quaint, unassuming. “You can come over in the morning. My family and I will be out but we'll leave the door unlocked so you can get in.”

Logan closed the door as your father walked off his porch, already looking forward to tomorrow morning. He thought of how he’d make his way through your house, into your room. He imagined going into your drawers and taking a pair of your pretty little panties to keep for himself. He imagined getting in your bed and jerking off until he came, right on your pillow.

He was up bright and early the next morning. With a small handle of whiskey to wake him up, Logan was out the door by 10 am with his toolbag in hand, a cigar hidden away so he could smoke out the back when he needed to take a break.

Your house was far different than his, bigger, painted a light blue with pastel yellow shudders and a white trim. It was the picture perfect house containing a picture perfect family. What a terrible person he must be to infiltrate such a home.

Your Father said the door would be unlocked. Your family car wasn't in the driveway, you all must have left already. Logan, with laborious steps, made his way up your porch, white wood, a few rocking chairs and a table where you must have put out lemonade and watched the sun go down.

He welcomed himself inside. Your house smelled like wilting roses and antiques. There were crosses everywhere, Bible verses on boards and Rae Dunn as far as the eye could see. Standard, religious, suburban home. He saw nothing out of place from your old brown couch to your wallpaper, pretty and bright.

Logan considered if he should work on your faulty pipes first or take his sick pleasure in your room. After a moment, he adjusted his grip on his toolbag and made his way through your living room and into your kitchen. He’d wait until he got the job done, then take his sweet time in your room. He’d make it a reward.

As it turns out, it was quite simple. You had the wrong piece for the pipe under your kitchen sink and it was connected incorrectly. Logan was halfway beneath your sink when he heard bare feet padding about the hardwood in the living room. He came out, a large hand on the counter to help himself up. His bones weren't what they used to be.

You had come rounding the corner into the tiled kitchen, dressed in nothing but a pretty, little, pale, pink nightgown that stopped at your mid-thigh. You paused at the sight of him, eyes wide and startled like a deer in headlights. “Mr. Howlett?” Sweet little thing, your arms went to cross over your chest, obviously not covered by a bra as he could see the peaks of your nipples poking against the fabric.

Stumbling back a bit, you swallowed. “What are you– my dad said you wouldn't be here until later when he came back.” You watched with your fawn eyes as he stood with a grunt in his white tank top, rough, blue jeans, and steel-toed boots. You were vulnerable, fully and entirely. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Naked under your nightgown besides just a pair of tiny panties.

“Wanted to get this out of the way. Didn't think you’d be here, doll.” Logan took a step towards you and you didn't dare take one back. Your gaze flickered to the side. “I was gonna go but I wasn't feeling well.” You’re all soft and meek and sweet. As if to prove your point, you let out a little cough. He could just devour you.

Logan looked back at his work. “Well– I figured out what's wrong. Should be a simple fix once I get the right part for it.” He looked back to you, eyes all soft. “I'm free for the rest of the day, babydoll.” You know what he was trying to get at. You were home alone, practically naked, the idea wasn't so far beyond you anymore.

You bit your lip. “You want to see my bedroom? I just redid it.” 

A smile twitched at Logan's lip. “Yeah, doll. Show me your bedroom.” You reached out and took his hand in yours, large and calloused. You guided him with your padded feet, occasionally looking back at him as if he’d disappear from behind you. If you were Orpheus, he’d already be gone by now.

You took him up the stairs and around the banister into your room done up in white, floral wallpaper. Your bed was neatly made with a single giant stuffed bear sitting against the pillows. It was obviously old and well-loved. Your room was just like you, soft and quaint.

Letting go of his hand, you went and you sat on the edge of your bed while Logan took his time examining this space you call yours. “It’s nice, really. Pretty, like you.” He stood in the center of your room, looking at you. You were fiddling your fingers in your lap, looking anywhere but him. You were thinking, thinking hard. Your lips twitched.

“What are you thinking about, dollface?” Logan made his way to you and grasped your chin in his fingers. He made you look at him with your doll eyes and your doll lips which you pursed softly. Silently, you stood from the edge of your bed, pressed between it and Logan's solid body. With your hands against his chest, you got up on your toes to reach his face and carefully pressed your lips to his in a tender kiss.

Your hands caressed his face softly, his beard prickly under your fingertips. You were still awkward and timid while kissing, but you were getting better at it. Still on your toes, you broke away from the kiss and wrapped your arms around Logan's neck. “I think I'm ready,” you whispered, voice quivering.

A better man would have asked, “are you sure?” A good man would have told you to wait until you were absolutely sure or even, to stick to your morals and wait until marriage. But Logan was not a good man and all he wanted was you, your entirety, resting in his palms like a baby bunny.

Logan dipped down and kissed you harder than before, with a feverish desire to take your soul straight from your body. His hands slid under your little nightgown, palms against your flesh, groping at you. Your breasts, your ass, the plush of your hips. You whimpered at how rough he was with you and Logan swallowed every squeak.

“Please…be gentle.” You pleaded with him. Your body shuddered as you felt the rumble of Logan's chest. He chuckled lowly.

“Oh, doll– I’m not known for being a gentle man.” There was something a bit feral in his throat as he spoke. “Come on, let's get this off of you.” He tugged at the hem of your nightgown, up and over your head, leaving you partially naked. Your hand immediately shot to your chest, shivering like a scared puppy.

Logan grabbed your wrist, despite his words, he was trying his best to be gentle with you. He didn't want to break you. What was the good in breaking something he wanted to possess? No, no, he didn't want to break you. Logan wanted you to be so thoroughly his that you'd never question him, your loyalty to him was what he wanted.

He took your hands from your breasts to get a good view of them. They were perfectly sized, soft looking. Your whole body was tender and sweet, with plush flesh and sweet curves all where they ought to be. Logan salivated like a pavlovian dog. He kissed you and palmed at your little, cotton panties, tucking his thumbs in and tugging them down.

You whined. “S-slow down.” Pleading as he removed them from you and carefully pushed you onto your bed. You felt too vulnerable nude before him. But Logan was already on his knees, between your legs, kissing and licking down your trembling thighs. “What are you doing?”

He put his mouth against your little love and you let out a sharp yelp. “Wait!” You never thought someone would put their mouth down there. It felt dirty. It felt good too. He pushed his tongue past your wet lips and licked your pussy before sloppily making out with your cunt.

Logan was a messy eater. All tongue and lips, licking and suckling against your most sensitive parts. His large, rough hands gripped at your thighs to keep them parted and pressed to your chest.

You never had your pussy ate and it was easy to tell. You were so sensitive to every touch of his tongue. Every flick against your swollen clit made your entire body shudder and a sweet mewling squeal left your lips. Your back arched from the bed, your toes curled into the air over your head. “Mr. Howlett!” You let out in a long, drawn out moan, your hand in his hair, tugging.

You tasted like heaven. Like he could find the meaning of life between your legs. He drooled all over your cunt like it was the most delectable thing he's ever had the honor of tasting, slurping and panting between rough licks. Logan felt that he could easily become addicted to this if he allowed himself to, the sweetness of you, the way you quivered.

But Logan didn't want you cumming just yet. He needed you to be on his dick first. He offered a few more desperate licks to your pussy before kissing your clit and bringing himself up to stand between your legs. His large, bear-like hands worked at the buckle of his belt. “You know when your parents will be home?”

You shook your head slowly, lips rolled.

“Then we’ll have to be quick.” It wouldn't be the ideal for a girl’s first time but if you wanted “ideal” you shouldn't have chosen someone like him to give up your virginity to.

You watched him pull his cock from his pants, half hard and almost beautiful as he pumped it in his hand. He was large, larger than anything you’ve ever taken before. You could hardly handle two of his fingers before crying. How could you possibly take a thing like that inside you and still remain composed? You were terrified out of your mind and as Logan pulled you by the hip towards the edge of the bed, you were starting to reconsider.

“What if it doesn't fit?”

Logan glanced at you. “I’ll make it fit.” He should tell you that it’s going to hurt at first, that there might be blood from your hymen breaking, but he didn't want you to back out. So he stayed silent, stroking himself to complete hardness until it could stand straight on its own. “Open your legs, doll.”

You hesitated but you were never one to disobey. Trembling, already on the brink of tears from the mere fear of pain, you spread your legs apart just enough for Logan to slot in between them and hold your hips. He looked at you and thought it best to reassure you. “Don't freak out. It’ll only hurt for a minute. I’ll be right here.” It was all vapid. He just wanted your virginity, your sweet, little cunny. He wanted to wear your purity around like a trophy.

Logan was not a good man. You should have known this.

He spat on your cunt, let the saliva dribble from his lips and land on your clit where it traveled its way down to your entrance. Logan played with it with the tip of his length, spreading it all across the rose between your legs. You whimpered like a puppy, writhing at the hips as he slapped his cock against your love and teased at all the possibilities of entering you.

He was right. It did hurt when he started easing his way into you. His cock, long and thick, stretched you out to a point you had never gone to before. You almost screamed or maybe you did. Tears swelled in your eyes as you squirmed against his hold. “It hurts!”

“I know. Just hold on.” He pushed his hips to yours and settled there for a moment. You were too tense. It would only hurt more if he continued before you adjusted. “Relax for me. It’ll only keep hurting if you don't calm down.” You were gasping, sobbing. “I– I can't!”

“Yeah, you can. Just breathe. Stop crying, doll.” Logan rubbed your hip with his hand and cooed at you. He rolled his hips against yours, coaxing you into whining. You let out a deep, panting breath, fingers gripping at the sheets of your bed. You reached out and grabbed your teddy bear to hold for comfort.

You pressed your face into the side of the bear’s head and nodded. “Go slow, please.” Your eyes glistened as you looked at him, cheeks still wet with tears. Your fingers grip into your teddy as Logan grunts lowly. “Sure thing, babydoll.” He grabs your thighs like you grip that stuffed animal, for dear life. You’re so fucking tight, gripping him like a fucking vice as he pulls his hips back.

There's a bit of blood on his cock. He ruptured your hymen with just one thrust. Logan pressed your legs to your chest as he fucked you, starting slow as you requested. He reveled in every desperate cry that clawed at your lips, every pined whimper that fell away into pleasure. Your toes pointed then curled, pointed, curled.

The pain didn't last too long, the blood still wet on his cock as you mewled. You looked quite cute holding your bear, your knees beside your ears, and you can't spread out around his slick length. Logan almost growled with each rut into your soft, silky pussy clinging to him.

It took everything in him not to brutalize you. Not to show you exactly what intentions he had with you. You were nothing serious, but you were his and his alone. He was not the type to marry but if it meant diving into a cunt like this every night, he just might put a ring on your finger to keep you satisfied and placid.

You were so dizzy with dick you might as well have fallen in love with Logan. Maybe you were in love with him. You were certain you were. You would have never given up your virginity to him if you hadn't believed that maybe, just maybe this might go somewhere.

Your father might let you marry him. He’s far older than you but Logan has a good reputation. He might not be a church man, but most accept him within the community. If you pleaded enough, if you told him Logan stole your virginity, he’d demand you two get married to save the family's reputation.

You let out a steady “ah, ah, ah” and “ohhhh!” with each thrust that takes the wind out of you. Logan likes the noises you make, how surprised they sound. You know nothing of this, of his evil, of his hellish ways. “Keep moaning like that. You're gonna make me cum, babydoll.” His hand slithered between your legs, thumb finding your clit toy with.

You squeaked, squealing. “No, no, no! I gonna–” you could hardly get it out before it happened, a great fountain of clear liquid coming from you and landing all over Logan's front. You always found your squirting embarrassing. You were mortified that you had got it all over Logan, still mostly clothed. Some of it even got on his face.

He bared his teeth, licking his lips like some starved animal. You were hazy-eyed and shaking with an orgasm so intense, you might as well have died and come back to life. “Logan– Logan, please.” You huffed, breathless and tired and begging him for something, anything, everything.

“Please what, doll?” Logan was rather amused by the way you writhed beneath him, holding your teddy so tight he thought you might rip it apart. He was so close to cumming, you made it impossible not to do it fast.

You shook your head with a great sob, tossing an arm over your face. “Please…don't cum in me! My dad will kill me if I get pregnant.” You couldn't handle the thought of disappointing your parents. They’d disown you, they’d…they’d…you didn't know what they'd do.

You sniffled as Logan chuckled at your request. “And what if I did, huh? What if I came deep inside you and put a baby in you, then what?” He liked how hard you sobbed, how you cried and moaned at the same time. Despair and pleasure all wrapped into one neat, little bow.

“Please, don’t.”

Logan groaned lowly, faltering with his thrust as his hips shuddered and his cock pulsed in the sweet tightness of your cunt. Just at the last second, he pulled out and came all over your pelvis and lower abdomen, shooting out great, white ribbons across your supple flesh. He didn't want to get you pregnant. He was a bad man, but he was no baby-trapper.

There was silence between the two of you. Your first time was not anything quite special but it was with someone you wanted to have it with so at least that was something. You felt…disgusting. Like a whore, like you dishonored your family.

Logan could see it. He could see the way you slowly dwindled into self-doubt and self-hatred. He took your hand in his and pulled you up into a sitting position. “Gimme some sugar, baby.” He leaned down and kissed you gently, holding your jaw in his hand, stroking your face. With a single kiss, your worries melted away into nothing, a void mind filled with only thoughts of a perfect life with Logan.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, your parents will be home any moment now.”

A perfect life not meant for you. Logan would never commit. He wasn't capable of it. He might want something nice and simple like a wife and a family, but he knew he’d never be satisfied with it.

Logan Howlett was not a good man. And poor you for falling in love with him.

[klausysworld]

Hey hey! I was wondering if you could write a one-shot imagine about Klaus meeting a female angel who ends up being his soulmate? The angel is very skeptical at first because of all the things Klaus has done over the years and Klaus is drawn to her innocence and purity like some masochistic predator playing with its prey. In the end, Klaus becomes the overprotective loving mate he's known to be (could end in smut if you wish) Thank youuu <3

In Life and Death

The Mikaelsons had been first introduced to the Underworld and the Heavens nearly 800 years ago when demons managed to find their way on Earth again. They had caused more havoc than the entire vampire race at the time and fought the Mikaelson's to the point where Klaus truly believed they would drag him down to hell.

The only reason that they hadn't was because a group of angels had stopped them. They argued that the Mikaelsons at that point still had the chance for redemption and that they shouldn't be targeted for a lifestyle that was forced upon them.

The demons were obviously enraged with the angels ruining their time on Earth and once everyone returned home, there was a minor war over who got to go to Earth and how often. The only way to obtain some sort of peace was to agree for nobody to go to Earth. They may hear about it in the papers and occasionally watch large events however no angel nor demon would step foot or wicng on that land.

This remained so for the next 800 years until a curious angel accidentally opened the portal back up.

Y/n had always been interest in everything that was new. Her father had scolded her for it as her mother had been just the same. Unfortunately it had been curiosity that had resulted in her mothers demise and this was the main reason her father so desperately wanted her to stay quiet and obedient to the rules to ensure her safety.

Much to his dissatisfaction, she didn't follow those guidlines.

It was difficult really. She wasn't bad, nor did she misbehave. She was very well behaved and lovely, she just got distracted rather easily and drawn to pretty things. But never were her intentions to cause any sort of upset or distress.

Y/n just couldn't help herself from touching every shiny or soft thing within reach, wanting to know what it was and what it did. Coincidentally, the case which the portal was hidden inside was covered in shells and pearls. She hadn't meant to be sucked into it.

And she certainly didn't mean to waken up completely naked in the middle of the woods with only her wings to cover her exposed skin.

Her vision was impaired for couple minutes before she came to. The sky was bright and blue while her surroundings were mostly shades of brown and the occasional green.

It had been a pack of werewolves who found her and took her to their little homes within the Bayou. Jackson, as the alpha, had taken responsibility of the peculiar girl. He and Mary had helped her into some low back clothes, careful not to touch her wings. Y/n found herself unable to move or speak for hours as she adapted to the harsh change of environment. Her consciousness came and went every few minutes and occasionally her wings would stretch out making the wolves back up out of cautious and intrigue.

A few of the others wolves brought some water to her and they helped her drink it. After a while she began to fully wake. By which point the sky had deepened and darkened to an almost obsidian. Jackson and Mary had fallen to sleep and didn't notice how the angel slipped down from the bed, feeling the grainy ground against her feet as she walked on wobbly legs and held her arms out to balance herself. It was strange. Her body was pulled down much more than usual and everything felt heavy rather than feather-light.

Thankfully she still had her wings and so with a couple flutters of her feathered support and she was hovering just above the surface. What she didn't realise was that the beating of her wings against the air caused a cool breeze to brush over here company and cause them to wake.

Jackson had quickly jumped up and began to gain her attention. Y/n was startled and ended up accidentally smacking him with her wing only to then hysterically apologise and hold onto him. What was particular was that when her hand touched his skin a rush of calmness came over him. His limbs went weak and he had to push his hand against the wall beside him to keep himself up.

Once Mary woke back up she managed to get Y/n to sit back down and tell them who she was and how she got there. Both wolves had been almost awestruck with the soft, hypnotic tone of her voice. Neither of them questioned her story, it was quite clear her wings were real and from the way she looked around with wonder it was obvious everything was new. But of course there was also sadness and worry in her tone when she spoke of her father and how he much think something dreadful had happened to herb and how she needed to get home.

Mary was against Jackson's decision to go to Hayley in hopes that she or the Mikaelsons may be able to help her get back to the heavens.

Hayley had come to the Bayou after receiving a very vague text from her betrothed. She was expecting something bad to have happned from his lack of information however when a flash of white whipped past her, giggling and squealing with two young children holding onto her wings, well Hayley really didn't know what was going on.

A moment later Mary came out, huffing and puffing for breath and yelling for them to be careful not to fall.

Unfortunately, Y/n hadn't abided to this suggestion and ended up falling over a log when the little ones were chasing her in their game of 'catch the fairy', despite her persistently informing them that she was not a fairy.

Jackson came rushing out a moment later to pick Y/n up. Her knees and hands were scraped red as path of tears slipped from her pain filled eyes. Her wings wrapped around him for comfort and Hayley found herself staring completely baffled.

Jackson caught sight of Hayley as he was carrying Y/n back to the hut and smiled, calling for her to come with him. She followed eagerly and listened as he explained what had happened in a hushed whisper while Mary shook her head and cleaned up the angels grazes. Y/n was horrified at the red substance that had pooled in her palms and Mary had to insist that she wouldn't die and go to the underworld for being so irresponsible.

It took very little convincing for Hayley to ring Elijah and inform him of the situation to which he too was instantly intrigued and willing to help. He said to bring the angel to the Abattoir this evening so that they could meet her formally and reluctantly Jackson agreed and gently convinced Y/n to go. Hayley watched with a small sizzle of jealousy as Y/n clung onto Jackson with all her will as he helped her weave through the streets in a way that wouldn't let her wings be seen by pedestrians. Thankfully it was dark so it would've been more difficult to see but still alarming.

Thankfully they made it with little hassle and got to the door which was immediately opened by an impeccably dressed Elijah. His eyes beaming as he took in the beautiful creature before him. Hayley cleared her throat and Elijah quickly greeted them all politely, bringing them inside before closing the door.

They were lead to a large dinner table where a stoppy Klaus wait at the head of the table and an excited Rebekah reside next to him. Her eyes lit up as she caught glimpse of pristine white wings and sat up straight. Elijah's voice filled the room as he spoke to the girl.

"In the past we have met with people from your home, they were kind to us then and so I hope to return the favour. I am certain that we'll be able to help you find your way home however I can't confirm how long this may take. Until then, we hope to make your stay on Earth as well as we can and in doing so we have set up a room for you-" he explained however was cut off my Jackson who argued she already had somewhere to stay.

Klaus snickered in response and rose from his chair "Pretty little things like her don't want to be out in the dirt" he quipped, narrowing his eyes on the wolf before him making Y/n frown and tug on Jackson's sleeve and whisper to go back to the Bayou. Elijah glared at his brother and apologised for his behaviour before coaxing everyone into their seats.

Klaus at the head with Rebekah to his right side, Elijah beside her and Y/n to his right with Jackson beside her and Hayley beside him. Y/n had slid to the edge of her chair in an attempt to be further away from Klaus. She didn't like the aura around him, aggressive power rolled off him in waves only she could physically see and feel and on top of that she could sense the distrust between him and Jackson. Y/n trusted Jackson, he kept her safe and looked after.

Klaus however didn't like how her hands held onto Jackson's jacket and her body leaned on his. For some reason it made his glare harden and his jaw clench uncomfortably. Rebekah was the first to talk. She couldn't help but gush over having a girl, no an angel in the Abattoir. She had fallen for an angel 800 years ago and he had adored Rebekah, they had even given her a necklace hand carved by a god to prove his feelings for her. It hurt both of them when he was no longer able to return to her world however over time they both moved on and began to forget.

However she was incredibly eager to get to know Y/n and befriend her. She wanted to learn all about how the heavens had developed. So she began to chat, and chat and chat.

Until eventually Klaus groaned and had the first course brought in, hoping that his dear sister would quieten down if she were eating. His eyes glanced over to Y/n as she looked to Rebekah like a deer caught in headlights and questions were fired at her left, right and centre. "Enough Rebekah, you're scaring her" he snapped as a small plate filled with colourful foods were placed in front of her.

She started at it in confusion before timidly trying it as the rest of them ate. The taste was bizarre and she couldn't stop herself from spitting it out with a noise of disgust. Elijahs brows rose while Klaus let out a laugh and took her plate away "Not for you love?" he questioned, amused as she went a beat red and wiped her mouth.

"I'm sorry" she told him sincerely, reaching for the plate back "I can eat it" she whispered but he shook his head.

"Not if you don't like it. We'll get you something better" He argued, taking it back to the kitchen making her sink in her chair, embarrassed. Jackson rubbed her arm soothingly while Elijah, Rebekah and Hayley looked at each other in confusion of Klaus's strange behaviour.

It was quiet as he returned before they all ate their starters and glanced across at each other, Klaus in particular couldn't keep his eyes off of Y/n. His fingers tingled with anticipation to feel her wings. Her feathers looked softer than clouds and he wondered how far they could stretch out, how fast she could fly or how high.

Briefly his gaze flicked to her legs only for his brows to furrow when he noticed the bandages wrapped around her knees.

"What happened here, sweetheart?" he asked, his fingers hovering over the covered skin putting Jackson on edge.

"I was playing with the young ones and collided with a branch or a stone- was it a branch or a stone?" she questioned, turning to Jackson with a quizzical expression.

"It was a log, it's like a branch only thicker" he explained and she nodded.

Klaus couldn't help the small chuckle that left him resulting in Rebekah smacking his side.

"What were you playing?" She asked, her voice gentle as she encouraged her new friend to share the earlier events.

"Well they called it 'catch the fairy' however I am not a fairy...but they didn't really understand that so I just went with it I suppose...is that allowed? Or is that technically a lie?" her voice grew quiet and she made eye contact with Elijah who only shook his head.

"Not a lie at all. You were very kind to the children to indulge in their games." he reassured and she silently nodded.

The group then continued to eat and spoke occasionally about the possibility of Y/n staying the night at the compound so she may use the bath tub and they can have clothes altered to her so that her wings may be comfortable. Eventually she agreed but Jackson also had to stay, much to the Mikaelsons disapproval. He stayed in Hayleys bed which made Y/n's eyes wide when she whispered to Rebekah that they should not be going to bed together without a binding marriage in place.

Rebekah had helped wash Y/n's wings in the bath before having a hairdryer in each hand in an attempt to dry them while the angel squealed and squirmed at the combination of heat and noise coming at her.

Eventually she was ready for rest. Klaus had peeked into the room she was to be staying in to see her dressed in a soft halter style top and comfy pyjama bottoms. The luscious skin of her back was on display to him as well as her slowly moving wings while she let Rebekah fit her hair into a silk bonnet. A melodic giggle sent a shiver down his spine making his fits clench and eyes squeeze shut for a second.

There was an insistent pull that he felt towards her. Whether it was simply because she was new and different or because she seemed so pure and innocent.

As the next day rolled around he found himself watching as she ate her breakfast from the doorway. His eyes followed the fork all the way to her lips and back down again for every bite.

Eventually she felt his gaze and looked back at him, her eyes wide as she swallowed down her last piece. A slight smirk was visible across his face as he made his way over and took her place, rinsing it off and placing it in the dishwasher before taking her delicate hand and leading her to the outside area.

It was covered in flowers and other pretty plants. Klaus let go of her and gestured for the sky.

"It's safe for you to fly in this area, the public cannot see you so long as you don't go beyond those hedges" He told her while pointing to the surrounding greenery that acted as a barrier.

Her eyes lit up and her immediate reaction was she throw her arms around the hybrid. Klaus went stiff when he felt her touch. Something about it was so incredibly soothing that he felt as though his body was melting against her. Without meaning to his body curled around her, keeping her against him as a wave of peace washed over him.

Eventually she pulled away, bringing him back to reality as he watched her take off into the hair and spin in circles so that her wings could truly stretch. He left outside to play while he got back to his duties though he would often glance from his window to see her coaxing small animals from their burrows and surrounding herself in the natural environment.

Something stirred inside him as she sat against the soft grass with a young rabbit in her lap, squirrels birds and little rodents all sitting around her and listening as she spoke a language not even he, the original hybrid, knew.

She was a gorgeous thing, he had decided.

It was obvious that she was from the heavens, if not her looks then her delicacy. Day in and day out he had yet to see any sort of anger bubble within her. She was unbelievably sweet, annoyingly so. However whenever he tried to pull a rise from her, guilt would swallow him when tears of light formed in her beautiful round eyes and he realised he hadn't caused rage but devastation and misunderstanding. Y/n would think that he hated her and she would want to go back to the bayou so Klaus would apologise and promise she hadn't ever upset him.

Her innocence was to be cherished, he realised.

She was the polar opposite of him, she was soft and gentle. Pure and clean compared to his rough and tainted soul. Usually it was something he found to be weakness and wanted to destroy but his instincts pulled through and screamed at him to protect and possess.

So he began to brush close to her.

He found that it wasn't just him who felt the peace that her touch carried, it wasn't just him who wanted to feel it some more.

Which meant that he needed to get his scent on her.

It was far easier than he had imagined. All he had to do was tell her that he really needed a hug and she would soften in a second to have him in her hold and feeling her unconditional comfort. Her wings would hold him close and often act as a blanket of sorts.

Too many times they had woken up asleep against each other, far too comfortable to complain as he snuggled her feathers and she warmed in response to the physical touch.

Klaus had managed to convince her that sleeping beside each other was not damning and that she would still be welcomed back to heaven. He would never let her go to hell. Never.

The only problem for Klaus was that under no circumstances would she ever consider the possibility of sex if she were not bound to him.

The hybrid hadn't considered marriage since his days of being a mere human. However he could not help the yearn that his soul, body and mind held for her. It was not just a physical desire but an emotional and spiritual.

Weeks went by, Elijah, the wolves and Davina were still trying to find a way for Y/n to get home but Klaus desperately wanted her to stay forever.

He had been trying to teach her how to live in a human world. Simple things like riding a bike and playing card games. He would hide his amusement behind his smile when she got that competitive fire inside her which almost always resulted in the cards being thrown and the angel storming off only to return five minutes later apologising for expressing wrath to which he would dismiss.

"I promise you, my love, in no way is that wrath. You couldn't commit a sin if your tried to."

Y/n would smile and shyly request that maybe they wouldn't keep playing the game and perhaps move onto something else. Klaus wouldn't ever deny her wishes and so would find something knew.

At some point Jackson would come over and ruin Klaus's fun as he watches Y/n fly over to the dirty mutt and start asking a hundred questions about how he and the others were. Once Jackson finally left, Rebekah would turn up or Elijah and take Y/n's attention again. Klaus would get annoyed, jealous but he knew he couldn't get angry. He got violent when he was angry and that would definitely not sit well with the darling creature that owned his heart.

So he would wait for her to go do something before whisper arguing with his siblings to let him spend time with his girl.

"Oh? Your girl is she Nik?" Bekah teased and Klaus snapped his jaw shut.

"No I-"

"Angels don't really have genders actually" Y/n chirped as she floated back into the room and sat down between them, unaware of the tension.

"You have female anatomy?" Klaus wondered allowed and Rebekah's eyes went wide in disbelief as she spun her head to look at him and his face went red as he realised the words were spoken. Thankfully Y/n was clueless and innocent so hadn't a clue why they seemed to think it was inappropriate.

"I don't know? I have mammary glands? At least I do when on earth...they seem common amongst females..." She mumbled, brows furrowed.

"What do you mean...when you're on earth? Don't you have bre- mammary glands when you're at home in heaven?" Rebekah asked this time and Y/n nodded, a little confused.

"Beauty is different here...my quality is that I'm the embodiment of beauty, or at least that's what I'm told and so beauty is socially constructed and I would adapt to suit the times and place. Here is very different to home, there I look much different. Everyone is quite strange here." She explained, tone soft and the two originals began to realise quite how different things had become since their two worlds stopped colliding.

"Are humans pretty to you?" Bekah asked, unable to resist asking.

"I believe all things hold value and beauty" Y/n nodded vaguely, "Some human coverings are um...different though" she muttered and Klaus smiled.

"You mean clothing?" He asked and she nodded when he gestured to his henley.

"They're very tight" She whispered as though it might offend somebody and Klaus chuckled.

"I think you would have liked when women wore dresses" He smiled and she tilted her head, not really knowing what he meant as she had seen Rebekah in dresses which were tight.

"I'll show you, dear" Bekah told her, knowing the angel wouldn't have picked up on what was said. Y/n smiled and nodded, accepting Bex's hand and being pulled to the dressing room while Klaus sighed and whined that he was being left out again.

But it didn't really matter because at the end of the day she would be curled up to his chest, in his arms, in his bed whilst wearing his shirt. She was already his whether she knew it or not.

Sometimes whilst she slept he was trace the soft features of her face, wishing to feel her lips on his, to have her promise that she would always be his.

Klaus Mikaelson wanted to marry and angel.

It was both utterly unbelievable and completely understandable at the same time. Some were baffled by the idea whilst others prayed that he would and that it may finally settle piece over the factions.

He almost managed to ask her but her father got to earth just before he was able to.

The doors had flown off their hinges and everyone was flung from the centre of the room from the sheer force that Y/n's fathers wings emitted. It was clear from the pure power that bounced from the walls that he was highly ranked, a throne angel most likely.

Y/n flung herself into his chest and apologised relentlessly as he wrapped his arms and wings around her. "It's alright darling, we'll be home in no time and no harm will be able to come to you" He promised, but she shook her head.

"I wish to stay" She whispered and her fathers brows furrowed.

"It wasn't a request my sweet. You're coming home. Earth is not for us, not now and not ever again. You're very lucky you haven’t been hurt. People can be cruel. Has anyone seen your wings?" He was checking her arms and wings while he spoke.

"No-" She whined and brushed him off making his expression stern. His eyes blackened when Klaus appeared behind Y/n, trying to pull her to him but a barrier around her repelled his touch.

"Be gone devil-spawn" The man warned and Klaus growled while Y/n frowned.

"He's not a demon Dad. He's a hybrid and a very nice one." She defended and her father scoffed.

"Darling, he's manipulating you. He belongs to Lucifers magic. Not ours. He's a walking sin. You need to be home and cleaned." He stated, no room for questioning.

"No!" She cried, flapping her wings to escape his grip. "He's good!" She whimpered as she managed to get a hold of Klaus. He held her tight, unwilling to let go. Y/n's father underestimated his daughters power as she put her own force field bubble around her and Klaus, ensuring that they couldn't be separated.

The male angel went silent for a moment, gaze narrowing and realisation dawning.

"How could you?" He whispered, "You've found a mate in a vampire? A spawn of evil?" He questioned but he knew the answer and deep down Y/n had too. Rebekah watched in utter shock at the understanding of what had really happened.

"I love him" She whispered and Klaus felt his entire body melt to hers. He nuzzled into her neck, ignoring the words her father threw until Elijah was finally able to make some sort of deal.

Y/n wasn't allowed to have any sort of physical touch with and supernaturals whilst her father was in the room. She must sleep in her own bed. To start off she may only visit Earth once a month which did not last long. Heavens hierarchy made an exception for Y/n to go once a week because of her 'mate' situation. If an angel couldn't be with their mate then they would often fade away into an emptiness. Therefore on Saturdays her father would take her over and attempt to 'get to know' the originals before letting her stay on Sundays by herself so that she may have fun with Bex, Jackson and Elijah and snuggle with Niklaus.

It was strange really.

Klaus wouldn't have ever imagined himself to be the desperate one in a relationship but he was always wanting her. Always touching her and trying to kiss any part of skin he could before she would tell him that he was getting carried away and that they couldn't act upon lust.

It took far too long to get her father to speak with Klaus civilly. The angel knew that his little girl would marry the creature before him. Their souls would be bound and he would have to do everything in his power to make sure that the darkness that tainted Klaus's soul didn't damn his child's too. His daughter would not go to the Devils den just because of a bond. He would rather form a case to get Klaus into heaven than let his sweet girl go down to hell.

Klaus had to damn near beg to marry Y/n. But it was proven worth it when he was finally able to present her with a hand crafted ring. He knew that Y/n would not want a diamond, it promoted greed, envy and pride. The ring he had made was much more meaningful and spelled to keep her safe.

Sweet Y/n had been bouncing up and down, flying round the garden, tackling him to the ground and attacking him with softly little pecks to his neck and cheeks as she squealed and asked how her father ever agreed.

The ceremony was ridiculous.

Klaus had completely underestimated the amount of angels that would come in support and fascination.

Everyone, including Y/n's father was respectful and accepting of their souls entwining and applauded in celebration of their love.

That evening, after dancing for endless hours and conversing with mystical beings, Klaus finally got to lay his angel down and claim her.

His fingers unlaced her dress slowly, savouring the sight as the fabric slipped away from her skin. He gently guided her hair over her shoulder so he could see her bare back. His fingers traced the length of her spine, between her wings, before his lips followed suit, placing a series of kisses. Goosebumps arose against her skin making him smile and tentatively ran his tongue over them, revelling in the way she shivered and the gasp that she produced.

"I love you Y/n" He murmured softly as his hands encouraged her dress completely away from her figure so that he could slide his palms up her navel, moving round her so that he may cup her firm rounded breasts. A little moan left her as well as a slight sound of confusion. "It's alright darling" He whispered whilst kissing the back of her neck, "Does it feel good?" he questioned despite knowing the answer as he stroked the pads if her thumbs over her nipples.

"It does" She whimpered. With a shaky breath she turned over her shoulder to look at him as he caressed her. A smile adorned his face and a loving kiss was placed on her lips. Her eyes fell shut and she let him guide her. She was lifted and turned before delicately placed on her back before their lips detached.

Klaus's eyes lowered to the beautiful, white lace panties that hid her gorgeous core and matched her relaxed wings. His tongue darted to wet his lips when he took in the detail of the pretty frilly garter wrapped around her thigh. He looked back up to her eyes, tilting his head when he saw the nerves spread across her perfect face.

"I wasn't sure of the traditions anymore" She whispered, glancing down at herself, "Is it not right?" she questioned, her hand moving to pull the garter off but Klaus quickly took her hand in his.

"It's lovely, everything you do is without fault" He promised whilst leaning down to kiss her knee softly. "And this..." He gestured to the garter, "Is for me to take off sweetheart".

Y/n's breath got caught in her throat when his teeth captured the fabric and dragged it down her leg and away form her body entirely. He placed it on his bedside table before licking and nipping up her inner thighs, interchanging between left and right as he went. Her hands were unsure as they rested on her stomach awkwardly making Klaus smile to himself and guide her to hold onto his hair.

"You can do anything you want my love" He murmured, chuckling softly when she played with his curls.

Gentle petting changed to a pattern of tugs as his tongue pressed to her panties. The heat against her sensitive folds made her body arch and shudder before a sharp gasp left her when Klaus bit the fabric and tugged them off so his lips could press hot kisses to her glistening core. His tongue slide through her folds, tasting her addictive essence. She truly was sent from above.

A throaty groan left Klaus's throat as he encased her clit between his lips and sucked ever so gently. His hair was gripped tightly and her overwhelmed whimpers filled his senses.

"Klaus-" She whined, her body completely new to the sensations. Her wings stretched out across the bed and her legs were guided to do the same as the hybrid's mouth got to work.

His arms wrapped under her thighs, holding her hips up so his access was favourable. He licked, lapped, sucked and fucked her with his talented tongue until his face was face was dripping and tears of delight were stained down her cheeks.

Klaus panted as he wiped his mouth and chin sloppily; he lifted his head and pushed himself up into a kneeling position. His pupils dilated at the sight of his bride.

Her wings shifted to cover herself making the hybrid let out a breathy laugh as the feathers blocked his view. Her luscious hair stuck to her glowing skin as she tiredly pushed herself up and crawled toward him. Klaus smiled and wrapped his arms round her waist, under her wings and pulled her onto his lap.

Her face pressed to his chest only for her to pull away and look up at him "You're still in your suit" She whispered, her voice slightly rasped.

"You're tired." He murmured softly, smiling to her as he cupped her face and kissed her forehead sweetly. "We can continue in the morning my love"

"No..." She whined, guilt filling her. "You've been waiting for this night" She whispered, her hand rubbing his arm in a comforting gesture. Klaus wasn't sure where this restraint was coming from, in his head he would have fucked her in ten different positions by now but looking at her delicate face, her soft ethereal body and those loving, understanding eyes, he knew he would wait for the entirety of eternity for her if he had to.

"I don't want to hurt you" He uttered, stroking her face with his knuckles tentatively. "Rest" He urged but her head shook and her fingers plucked at his buttons so that she may feel the firmness of his chest beneath it and despite having restraint, he wouldn't go as far as physically stopping her.

Her touch was light against his skin as his shirt was slid down his arms and her face pressed to his abdomen, basking in his natural warmth. Her hands were nervous as they slowly undid his trousers, sweet girl didn't even know what she was looking at when he helped her remove the rest of his undergarments. Klaus knew she had no clue and couldn't help the smile on his face at her struggle.

"Don't panic darling" He encouraged. Gently he caressed her hands, slowly guiding them to his erect cock and telling her she could stop whenever she wanted to. Her hand wrapped round his thickness and he whispered weakly to her. "Thank you sweetheart" He muttered, "just gently stroke and I'll make an even bigger mess than you did" He teased breathlessly making her blush and follow his directions. Her grip slid up and down his length, her eyes lighting up when his moans and groans filled the room and built her confidence. "Good girl" He praised, his eyes drooping but he smiled when he heard her moan gently at his words. "Good girl" He repeated, a rougher edge to his voice as her hands stroked his faster and firmer.

"I want to do more" She whispered, tone bordering desperate "how do I do more?"

Klaus laughed softly before answering, "Can you use your pretty lips on me my love? No teeth, just tongue like I did" He murmured, squeezing his eyes shut when the heat of her mouth engulfed him. "Fuck, yes!" He gasped and her eyes went big.

"You mustn’t say that" She whispered and he nodded, apologising quietly while petting her head, hoping she wouldn't stop because of it. Slowly her head went back down and his went back.

His muscles tensed and relaxed as he stroked her head gently before sliding his hands across to her wings that would flex every now and then.

Her tongue was wrapped completely around his cock, sliding across his veins while her head moved up and down surprisingly enthusiastically. Klaus had never thought she would be an overly sexual creature given her being so pure for so long but in that moment he knew that they wouldn't be going a day without him being inside her.

She sucked him off beautifully, so wonderfully well that he almost had to second guess her innocence.

His fingers buried into her feathers, careful not to pull too harshly on them while his hips bucked up involuntarily. A muffled gag and strained moan left her and she looked up at him through her lashes. Klaus couldn't stop himself as he looked into her rounded eyes, his body stiffened and his lips parted as he came against the back of her mouth. Y/n made a sound of surprise and he quickly got his hands under her chin and pulled her away.

"Fuck, love I'm sorry" He whispered, gently cupping her face and grabbing the nearest blanket to wipe away the cum that painted her face. He cupped her cheek and kissed her lips. "I meant to pull out before..." He mumbled, annoyed with himself as he listened to her cough.

Once her breathing levelled she was able to look back up at him properly, he was worried for what she would say but she only smacked his arm lightly and shook her head. "Stop saying bad words!" she told him and he sighed, pulling her close and kissing her head repeatedly.

"I love you Y/n" He chuckled and she beamed back at him.

"I love you too" she smiled, squeezing his hand. Her wings stretched out before wrapping around them both, encasing their warmth and holding them together. Klaus gently rubbed his hand down her body, paying attention to her shape and gently caressing her waist up to her breasts. He squeezed them gently, leaning down to press his forehead to hers.

Her head tilted back and their lips pressed together while she relished in his touch. His hands glided down her hips and under her thighs, carefully lifting her up and lowering her down onto his lap. The head of his cock teased her entrance, slipping along her wetness. "I've got you darling" He whispered, guiding himself inside her.

Y/n whimpered softly and clenched her hands into fists causing her nails to dig into her palms. He gently gripped her hips firmly, guiding her to ride his cock whilst he thrust up to meet her body with a soft slap of their skin.

Her face pressed into his neck and her hot breath made his skin wet as she panted heavily. "Nik" She whispered and he groaned, his hips bucking abruptly faster.

"Talk to me darling" He murmured to her, stroking her skin soothingly. "Tell me what you need"

Y/n shuddered in his lap and clung onto him tightly, "I don't know" she whined, "just more"

Klaus smiled and chuckled. He kissed the top of her head before thrusting into her harder "Harder?" He offered with a smirk when she gasped, "Maybe deeper" The hybrid mumbled as he buried his cock into her so that it rubbed her cervix, "Or maybe you need it faster, hm?"

Y/n nodded and squeezed her knees against his hips. He spun her round quickly to press her winged back against the headboard so that he could thrust into her rougher. Klaus could feel his grip on her bruising her skin. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead as he felt her warm walls squeeze him beautifully.

Their bodies moved together in a heated passion, both heavily panting.

Klaus dropped his hand down to slide his fingers over her clit. Y/n's head went back, her wings tensing and her mouth opening in a silent scream as he grunted and pounded into her as deep as physically possible. Little veins scattered under his eyes and he quickly shook them away and kissed from her jaw to her lips, absorbing her moans and swallowing them for himself.

He pulled away with a groan as he felt her body tightening significantly around him and her nails impaling his arms. Her wings flexed out and for a moment he worried they would start to flap but they fell back down as her body arched further.

"Oh sweetheart" Klaus muttered, rubbing her clit vigorously and bucking his hips quickly. "Come on darling...cum for me" He whispered, nipping her neck and licking the smooth skin to sate something inside himself.

Y/n's eyes rolled back and a heavenly sound left her as she felt her orgasm shatter through her. Her head lulled forward to lean against him and her eyes closed as his warmth spread through her. Two large wings held them together as their bodies pressed together without anymore movement.

"I love you my darling" He whispered earnestly, wrapping his arms round her waist and resting his head against hers. She smiled in his hold and sighed softly.

"I can't wait to spend eternity with you...in life and death" She uttered and he grinned.

"I'm going to worship you every night and day whether we're on earth or in the heavens or even if we ever went to-"

"Don't say it" She whined and he chuckled softly

"Forgive me, my love, it seems that I've said a few too many bad words this evening. I'll have to make it up to you" He purred and she giggled.

"You can make it up tomorrow" She murmured with a yawn and he hummed whilst gently lifting her up and carefully pulling out of her. Her skin shone with a thin layer sweat and she shifted as he laid her down amongst the sheets.

"I'm going to clean you a little in a moment but in the morning we'll bathe and ill help you with those gorgeous wings of yours" He promised with a kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you" She whispered, gazing at him with nothing but love.

As he wiped her skin clear, she thanked any and all versions of power for having her fall into the bayou that day, she thanked her father and the angels for allowing her marriage and she thanked the Mikaelsons for being the best family she could have wound up in.

[writingoddess1125]

You Give them Face Mask! 🧼

Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Usopp, Buggy, Mihawk

Fluffy Fluff

Just felt like more Fluff Fluff rn 😌 Enjoy!

Luffy

Trying to get this man into a face mask is like trying to wash a puppy- A happy struggle and pain in the ass.

"Luffy please" You say with a sad eyes- He will fold after this and let you. However he doesn't sit still so you use a sheet mask that simply helps with oily skin.

"This smells nice" He will say as you have to bribe him with snacks to keep it on for 15 minutes.

"It's rose scented" You say and wear one yourself to keep him still with some gummy candies. Will have trouble sitting still and will start chatting and walking in circles as he waits.

Once it's over he rubs his shiny face and talks about how squeaky he sounds. Utterly destroying your work-

Sanji

Sanji is more then willing to indulge you. Picking out some mild scents and you do a peel off mask since he has deep pores.

"Wanna do the charcoal mask?" You offer which he accepts after finding the scent pleasant enough.

"Do people do these often?" He will flirt and talk about the curiosities in your self care. Once the mask is done he will complain about the tightness.

"That means it's ready to peel!!"

"AHHH! OW!!?" He yelps in surprise as you pull the mask off his face. His face bright red and raw from this so you add some water based moisturizer to his face. You show him the mask.

"That was in my face!?"

Will both be disgusted and fascinated by the amount of gunk pulled from his skin.

Zoro

His skin is fairly flawless which is honestly frustrating since he cares so little for his skin.

You offer the face mask anyway and he refuses for a while bit does eventually fold. You use a snail slime mask on him since it will keep him skin looking flawless.

"This smells funny..." He grumbles as he will lay there listening to you talk, Half asleep and waiting. Will open his eye occasionally and ask a few questions about your interest in this stuff.

You wipe it off and help him rince his face. Skin is pretty much glowing at this point and You stare in awe. "So pretty!"

"I'm going to go train now-" You scream at him in protest in trying to ruin his pretty face.

Usopp

Usopp is willing of course, since the ocean air drys his skin quite a lot. So you use a shea butter face mask and tap his skin with your fingers to help it soak in his rough skin.

"You know I once got a spa treatment from Mermaids like this-' He will spin his tales as You work. When you do rince off the mask you add some nice skin oils afterwards to his skin.

You rub a lot of oil in his skin and he will pause his stories as he judt enjoys the time. Will smell the jar you're using and a softness will run over his face in fondness.

"This smells like the stuff my mother used to use-" He will say with a smile. His skin looks shiny and golden by the time your done, making him look sexy- in his own words.

Will come back regularly to have you treat his skin and will even talk about stories with his mother from time to time.

Buggy

Grease paint wrecks havoc on one's skin Buggys especially since he wears it so much. Needs some detoxing clay mask then a aloe moisture one to replenish. If you're doing his face might as well deep condition his hair as well.

He does enjoy the attention and doing them since his face feels better. Secretly he actually has acne marks from his youth and some scars from before he ate a devil fruit.

"What was this one from?" You ask pointing to a light scar on his cheek.

"Hmm 10- Me and Shanks were trying to figure out blades better. Let's say I learned knives can bounce back at you-" He says amused and letting you work.

"The skin around your nose is dry" Buggy will frown, thinking you're about to insult him since even though he trust you the most his insecurities will win- till you carefully paint the mask on those areas and smile proudly.

"There we go, all better" You say and kiss his hand to go apply your own.

Will sit and listen to you read outloud or talk with him about show ideas as he lays there with the face mask.

"Can we do this every night?"

Mihawk

"No-" He will protest, his eyes narrowing as you offer the mask to him. However after enough begging and ever Perona joining in at pestering him he will fold.

Mihawk gets treated to a full spa day when this happens- A hydrating honey facemask on his skin, cucumbers on his eyes and even a hair mask in his hair to make it softer.

Perona is overjoyed as well as she cleans his nails and applies clear polish to make them shiny and nice! Grumbles the whole time silently and ends up Downing a bottle of wine.

"Do not get used to this-" He grumbles as he takes his wine and drinks from it as you and Perona work. He kinda looks like a spa mom-

Once done this man looks runway ready- His hair is much softer so sets lower, his skin flawless and even his beard looks nicer. Stares at you and Perona deadpanned and sighs-

"Thank you both for the nice gesture..."

[undiscovered-horizon]

Put it on me - Roronoa Zoro x Reader

SUMMARY: A shared stash of moonshine leads to you pouring your heart out to Zoro. Despite his rather cold exterior, he takes your words seriously and asks you to put some of your burden on him if it ever gets too heavy.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.8k

Brought to you by my obsession with this painfully relatable song:

“Save some for me.”

Zoro’s voice wakes you up from the trance. You’ve been mindlessly drinking and reminiscing about the fight for what had to be at least two hours now. Enough time to slur your words and muddy your thoughts but the latter, as welcome as it would be, doesn’t seem to come. Flashes of scenes and echoes of voices still haunt you.

The swordsman nudges the axe you used to crack open the barrel. Quite crude but it works as it should - both a plug and a tap, depending on the blade's position. A spicy, dry stench fills the air as Zoro pours himself some of the dark-coloured moonshine.

He takes a large swing of the mysterious alcohol and winces. Very unlike him. A troubled cough escapes his chest.

“What is this?” he asks.

“The nightmare of hangovers yet to pass, I like to call it.” Used to the questionable taste of the beverage or simply numb due to your current state of light intoxication, you’re unbothered as you take another sip. The liquor burns your throat right down to your stomach. You can almost feel it wreaking havoc on your organism. Good. “We’re both alive and not blind, so definitely not methanol. Maybe it tastes like mouldy socks but it gets the job done.”

Zoro sits down on the ground next to you. His body is suspiciously close to yours, thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder, but you’ve grown used to it. It’s an open secret between the two of you - he’s allowing both himself and you this kind of intimacy as long as it remains unaddressed. If it did, he’d have to admit he’s not as aloof towards you as he likes to make himself look and that is not something Roronoa Zoro has the courage to confess.

“Why are you drinking alone?”

“I’m not. You’re here,” you say as you gently poke his arm.

He chuckles and shakes his head. Zoro takes another sip and winces again but not as much as before. The ‘mouldy socks’ flavour is growing on him. Or maybe it’s the alcohol content?

“You can’t fool me,” he says in a low, serious tone. “Something’s on your mind.”

Zoro looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. His gaze is bright, perceptive. Even if you try, you can’t lie and convince him that everything’s in order. It seems that Zoro already knows your mood is foul, just can’t quite put his finger on the why. For a man who claims to be unbothered and uncaring, he sure does spend a lot of time and energy and studying your little habits and quirks. One might even say he appears to have a particular affinity for you.

“I ate shit back in the village,” you mumble without looking at him. You almost puke bolting down the rest of the dark moonshine. “Complete failure. Embarrassing doesn’t cover even half of it.”

Stumbling over the air and your own feet, you get up and pour yourself another cup of alcohol. You can see Zoro’s troubled gaze following your movements but he doesn’t say anything or try to stop you, although he’s sure you’ve had enough of strong drinks for the night.

“You did fine,” he says awkwardly. Despite meaning his words, niceties still have a problem making it through his throat. “Aside from leaving your left flank wide open but you’d have to die and be reborn to stop doing that.”

Sitting back down next to Zoro, you lose your balance and fall on your backside. Some of the moonshine spills and soaks your shirt. You don’t care about the stain for now but you surely will in the morning when the putrid smell fills your bedroom and refuses to be washed out.

“It was everything but fine,” you scold him.

Surprised, Zoro looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. Never before has he seen you so hung up about mistakes. Normally, you’d shrug and laugh and just say something along the lines of “shit happens, we’ll be better next time”. Still, no matter how much he racked his brain, he simply couldn’t think of anything in particular that could get you like that. Nothing about the day and its battles stands out to him.

“Nami getting hurt was my fault,” you admit. “Luffy and Usopp too. Shit, everything was my fault.” Out of frustration, you rub your face with your free hand.

“Nonsense,” he easily dismisses your self-blame. “You couldn’t have known about the whole human-turned-arsenal crap.” Zoro takes another swing of the mysterious moonshine. This time, he doesn’t wince or cough. Mouldy socks are beginning to taste like champagne. “I don’t think anyone could,” he adds quietly.

You hit the floor with a clenched fist.

“But I did, Zoro,” you drone your words. The image of the pirate captain is clear as day before your eyes. “That’s the thing. The moment I saw that man I knew something was wrong. He moved in a strange way and the way his clothes fit him… It was right there, in front of me. And I was blind like a drunk bat stuck in a pile of cow dung.”

“Hunch isn’t exactly the best strategy. You might as well have been wrong about him and attacked an innocent man.”

“Well, he wasn’t innocent, was he, Zoro?” The anger is rising within you. Why wouldn’t he just accept your fault? Why is he so frustratingly stubborn at putting the blame elsewhere? “I could have prevented all of this or at least given us an opportunity to prepare before Usopp got half of his bones broken with a cannonball. And all of this, Nami nearly dead, because when my moment came, I failed. I hesitated. I questioned my judgment. Like I always do.”

The wooden floor is hit yet again when you look for a way to let out your anger.

“I can’t believe I’m the one saying this, but,” Zoro makes a pause and clears his throat,” you’re being too hard on yourself.”

A silence falls between you. 

The air in the cramped storage room is stuffy, soaking with a plethora of strong smells: damp wood, smoked fish, the dark liquor you’re drinking with the swordsman, aged cheeses that Sanji seems to be a fan of, roasted coffee beans… But all of those aromas are strangely comforting to you, the smells that remind you of a gathering of adventurous underdogs that have grown to be a family.

A gathering that you’ve almost killed today with your incompetence.

“Truthfully, I wish I was like you,” you finally break the silence. Zoro gives you a questioning look. “You never fail, always prepared and ready to fight. Even when you do make mistakes, which is rare might I add, you can prevent anyone else from getting hurt because of you. I wish I had the power to always do the right things and do them well. When will a day come when I finally know how to act? What to do? I make the same stupid mistakes over and over again and nothing seems to change no matter how hard I try. Maybe I’m just broken and you lot are doomed for hanging around me.” For a moment, you look into your cup. Your reflection in the dark beverage is rippling, making your face hardly recognizable. Just like when you compare who you are to who you should be. “At least in my mind, in my fantasies, I'm the hero that saves me,” you whisper to yourself and down the rest of your drink. It’s easier to be delusional when you can’t string a coherent sentence.

The realization hits Zoro like a derailed train. Of course he’s never seen you get hung up over your mistakes - you’ve been holding it inside, beating yourself up away from everyone’s eyesight. Your otherwise happy-go-lucky exterior is a mere facade, the face of someone you’d like to be. And the more you realize it’s not your true face, the more upset you get. How long have gone holding yourself to an impossible ideal? Hating yourself for being anything but perfect and imposing?

How heavy is the real burden on your shoulders?

"I'll do it for you,” he offers quietly.

Your confused gaze meets the confident glint in his eyes. He looks sure of himself - more certain than he normally is. A smile threatens to pull up one corner of his lips.

"Do what?" you ask.

"I'll be the hero that saves you."

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips and echoes throughout the small storage closet. The sound bounces off the wooden walls and comes back to you with a certain depth and delay, making you feel as though it’s the world laughing at you and the poor sod that offers to help you - you don’t hold hands with someone who easily catches on fire, burning everything around them. That’s just stupid.

“Thanks but that still makes me the world’s biggest loser who can’t put the money where their mouth is and is stuck in a perpetual cycle of doom.”

You look away, staring ahead, but Zoro’s eyes linger on you. Sure, he can fight pirates and animals and fishmen and all the strange horrors lurking in the world but how in hell is he going to fight something immaterial? How powerless he feels with three swords at his side and yet no way to fight the foul-tongued beast in the back of your head.

"Just put it on me," he presses on. "If you need help, put it on me. If you're going through Hell, put it on me.” Then, to your surprise, he firmly grabs your hand, squeezing it in a meaningful manner. “Seriously."

You try to wiggle your palm out of his hold but it proves useless - his grip is iron, although not painful. No matter how much you’re enjoying this uncharacteristic intimacy, you know better than to get used to it. Zoro deserves better than to be the victim of your ricochet.

“You’ve got enough on your head already,” you say in a stern voice. “My own bullshit is the last thing you need.”

For the first time in weeks, Roronoa Zoro smiles. It’s not a smile of amusement, of being entertained. No, it’s a smile of seeing something, or someone, he holds dear. In other words, it’s not his mind that rejoices but his very heart and soul.

“I want to worry about you,” he confesses.

Tears are prickling at your eyes and you’re doing everything you can to keep them from falling. Alas, you’re quite far from sober and self-control is not an ability within your grasp. Your face feels hot as teardrops slowly roll down your cheeks.

A bitter scoff leaves your lips. “It will be an unending horror.”

“I’m not afraid,” he reassures you casually. “And we’re in the middle of the sea. I’ve got time.”

Hesitantly, you rest your head against his chest. Zoro welcomes the gesture, letting go of your hand and putting his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to himself.

[icingred]

can you tell me about lore of Reverse Cookie run au?

white lily cookie,Pure vanilla cookie,dark cacao cookie,hollyberry cookie and Golden cheese cookie (You may pick any ancient as youre choice)

MAANN I LOST MY ACCOUNT OF COOKIE RUN KINGDOM I JUST HAS WHITE LILY COOKIE,AND NOW MY ACCOUNT IS GONEEEE

(TW:grammer english suck to me)

I'm SO SORRY TO WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR ACCOUNT NOO 😭

(Have an uncolored ver. Because I'm still unhappy with the color palettes I have rn so uh.. Also beware that this AU will go through changes because it depends on the canon storyline :dies:)

~ Reverse AU Ancients ~

There were once five great heroes who were granted the lights to protect this world. The light of Truth, Passion, Resolution, Abundance, and Freedom. These heroes used their mighty powers to spread peace and prosperity all over Earthbread.

However, that light was soon put out and overshadowed by darkness. One night, a red moon rose over four Soul jams, cursing them with devastating results. And the heroes no longer lived up to their names. Instead of the peace they've sworn to maintain, they brought destruction, havoc, and fear.

Only one hero managed to keep herself safe from the moon. Yet her name was completely erased by the evil four.

The new beasts:

The red moon has not only infected the Soul Jams with the darkness, but has also cursed the heroes themselves. Their harm varies for each Ancient.

Pure Vanilla Cookie

“Let the new, darker Earthbread be born!”

The bright cookie, who once possessed the light of Truth, was cursed to see whoever dared to say his name out loud. Horror and bitterness replaced the comfort and warmth that he exuded.

He remained to cherish his friendship like he always did, just in a different way

Dark Cacao Cookie

“Enter my realm, where darkness protects and glory awaits! Hahaha!”

A prideful cookie with the light of Resolution soon became the sinister, apathetic shadow that loomed above his kingdom of Cacao. After the dark night, his dough began to slowly rot away as though he lived.

Although his wish for protecting Cookiekind perished, his love for heels still hasn't

Hollyberry Cookie

“I must prove I’m better than they think”

Hollyberry Cookie was no longer recognized as the gentle hero with the Light of Passion but as the beast of hopelessness and sloth. She was cursed with constant hunger. If given the chance, she'd devour anything.

She believes eating cookies will make her a half-god who's above all others, since the witches, the gods, created cookies to eat.

Golden Cheese Cookie

“Obey those above you and you shall be rewarded”

Generosity and gratitude gifted her the heroic light of Abundance, which soon led to a darker path to destruction.

The strict queen still loved anything that glittered, but the moon's curse blinded her to an eternity, preventing her from seeing light.

She spends most of the time away from her Kingdom, leaving the job up to the Golden Guardians

~~

No WL for now haha

[cordeliawhohung]

Siren

mafia!Gaz x fem!Reader | no major warnings, mentions of alcohol |

mafia!141

this was out of kyle's area of expertise. good thing you were there to pick up his mess.

When Kyle was a child, his father would point out his mother to him on the TV. She was an easy woman to recognize with her perfectly pressed suit and kind eyes and smile. When she gave speeches, she spoke with such eloquence that even in his young age Kyle understood that she was a woman who held insurmountable power. Yet, despite her influence as the most popular and well liked politician in all of England, she couldn’t shine bright enough to blind the nation from the stain that was her son; a bastard child born out of infidelity. It’s why he only ever saw his mother through a screen as a child. 

He wondered what she would think if she caught sight of him in that strip club. 

Not that he was there for pleasure of course. If he wanted loud music and annoyingly drunk patrons he would have gone to John Price’s club; at least he would have gotten free alcohol there. And there would have been less tits in his face, not that he was one to complain, but that wasn’t the reason he was there. 

It wasn’t often that Price assigned Kyle to “field missions.” Usually, whenever a favor was needed from him, he was asked to have a polite conversation with a politician or two, or perhaps influence his mother’s ability in the political field to make things easier on Price and his business. But this? Track down a rival mafia member to steal some USB theoretically hiding somewhere on his person? Impossible. But of course Riley would have drawn too much attention, being as much of an eyesore as he was, and Soap was busy wreaking havoc elsewhere, why not send poor little Kyle Garrick? 

Bastards owed him a pint. 

Through the flashing lights and a sea of bodies, Kyle caught sight of his target meandering through the crowd on the far side of the room. He stood a head shorter than he expected, and it appeared as if he attempted to compensate for it by having two large and brutish bodyguards trail behind him. How he was supposed to get past blokes as big as them and steal that USB was beyond him, and he wasn’t sure he would have the time to figure it out. 

Maybe he should have called it quits and gone home. Tell Price he would have to send someone else after the creep, that the mission was too far out of his expertise. He was certain there were some other baby faced members of the family who would do significantly better than he could. Besides, it wasn’t like Kyle actually worked for the man, he was just doing him a favor. 

Then again, failure was never really an option. 

With a deep breath, Kyle worked up the courage to finally push himself off of the wall he had leaned against for the past half hour. Whatever half-cocked plan brewed in his head needed to be executed quickly, because he knew his target wouldn’t linger for much longer. But the poor man could hardly walk forward two steps before a hand on his chest gently halted his movements.

A pretty thing in platform heels sauntered in front of Kyle and blocked him from his pursuit. She fluttered her eyes at him with lashes so long they must have been fake, and there was something about her hair that seemed too shiny, like she wore a wig. Her outfit left nothing to the imagination, which was pretty standard for a stripper, and she certainly used that to her advantage as she pressed her chest against his side. 

“Hey handsome. You look lonely,” she greeted him. Her voice was honeyed, too sickly sweet to have any sort of good intention. 

“Just passing through,” Kyle said as he attempted to shake her off. 

Like a siren with her eyes set on a ship, she wasn’t too keen on letting him go. Her hand slipped from his chest and down to his waistband where her fingers caught on his belt loops. Much too intimate, for his liking. Each second he wasted with her was another second the target was able to utilize to get away, and Kyle certainly didn’t have the upper hand. 

“No one ever just passes through here,” she said with a chuckle. “Besides, it’s not often we get cute things like you here. Gets a little tiring performing for disgusting old men all the time. But you? I could give you a special show in the back.” 

There was something about her scent that left Kyle’s mind spinning and he felt an uncomfortable heat rise up his neck and into his face. Maybe she really was a siren, some sea witch attempting to lure him to his death with saccharine promises. With gritted teeth, Kyle reached for her wrist and pulled her hand off of him, and despite his rather rough treatment with her, the woman didn’t seem fazed at all. 

“Not interested, love,” he said, his words more biting than he intended them to be. 

She gave him a knowing smile as she pulled her hand out of his loosened grip before shrugging. “Have it your way.”

She vanished into the crowd of the club just as quickly as she had appeared, and it was only then that Kyle realized she wasn’t the only thing that was out of sight. His target, that man with the USB, was long gone. Desperate, he weaved through the crowd where his dark eyes scanned for any sight of the man, but his efforts were fruitless. All it took was a pretty girl with an oddly addicting scent to throw him off of his game.

Price was going to be pissed.

Riley waited for him in the same place where he was dropped off with a cigarette hanging lazily out of his mouth. The parking lot was dark due to several broken and poorly lit lights, giving a less than inviting aura to the area. Had Kyle not known the man previously, he would have never dared to venture too close to the lot with the way Riley brooded in the darkest corner. 

“Well?” Riley questioned as he exhaled a long puff of smoke. 

“No good,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Couldn’t get close enough with his bodyguards breathing down his damn neck.”

Nodding, Riley flicked a bit of ash off the tip of his cigarette. “Spectacular,” he said, voice heavily laced with sarcasm. 

“I dunno what you guys expected from me!” Kyle defended. “I don’t have the fucking training for this. If you wanted the job done properly, you should’ve gotten someone else.” 

The two men bickered back and forth for what felt like an eternity, pointing fingers and throwing sarcastic comments at one another. He didn’t want to do the job in the first place, and really only agreed to it because Price had a way of convincing him otherwise. It wasn’t until Kyle heard the familiar click-clack of heels on the parking lot pavement that both men fell silent. Riley’s eyes focused somewhere in the distance, and the expression on his face morphed into something utterly unimpressed as he tossed the butt of his cigarette on the ground. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered.

Emerging from the darkness, you approached the two men hiding in the lot with as much poise and confidence as you had approached Kyle with earlier in the club. Your smile was just as sickly sweet as it had been, and your chuckle echoed dully in the empty space as you pulled your pea coat around your body to save your exposed skin from the night air. 

“Evening, gentlemen,” you greeted. 

Kyle’s head snapped to the side at the sound of your voice and he nearly groaned in frustration at the sight of you. All of his efforts and awkward time spent in that club had gone to waste because of your meddling, and it wasn’t until that moment that he realized you had done it on purpose. You had been a distraction, an obstacle to prevent him from completing his task, and now you came to gloat. 

“What do you want, Junior?” Riley questioned, jaw tense. 

“A proper set of clothes, for starters,” you scoffed. “Perhaps a shot or two, or excedrin to get rid of this raging headache from that piss poor music.” 

“That’s not what I asked you,” he countered. 

You stopped walking once you had fully approached the boys and you tilted your head at Riley with a deep sigh. Not even the night air could cover up the intoxicating scent of your perfume, and it seemed all too attracted to Kyle’s nostrils, and he felt himself growing dizzy again. 

“Never good at taking jokes, are you?” you asked facetiously. 

Riley’s silence made you sigh and roll your eyes at his stubbornness, and seemingly bored, you turned your attention to Kyle. It only took a single swift step before you were at his side with your hands once again on his waistband. Confused, Kyle grabbed your wrist and yanked you off of him, an effort that only made you chuckle. 

“Excuse me?” he asked, heated.

“Relax, love,” you said, throwing back the pet name he had used for you previously. “Just retrieving something out of your pocket. It’s hard to carry things around in this outfit. Doesn’t exactly have the best pockets. Figured I’d borrow yours.” 

Before he could stop you, you reached into his pocket with your other hand and pulled out a small USB. In an attempt to prove your innocence, you dangled the item in front of his face with a grin, but in reality he was too busy trying to fight off that odd heat in his body at the smell of you. 

“Pheromone perfume, Garrick,” you said simply as you gestured to your neck. “I find it’s significantly easier to do my work if the men in my way are too dazed to do anything stupid.” 

You backed away from him with a simple sigh before you tossed the USB towards Riley, who caught it one handed against his chest. He glared at you in what you could only assume was his strange way of thanking you, and it took everything in you not to roll your eyes again. 

“How did you know my name?” Kyle asked breathlessly. 

You returned your arms snugly around your waist with a chuckle. “I’d be stupid to not do my homework on someone of your status. Big fan of your mum, by the way. Her speeches almost make me believe she gives a damn about this country.” 

Speechless didn’t quite explain the sheer surprise Kyle felt in that moment. It was as if he had met a stalker, like you knew him better than he knew himself. The worst thing about it was that he had not even the slightest clue as to who you were. Which, he supposed, was exactly the way you liked it.

“Anyway,” you segwayed while you took a step away from the men, “if Price wishes to tip me for doing your work for you, he knows where to send it to. You boys have a good night.” 

Without so much as another word you spun on your obnoxious heels and strolled back towards the darkness of the street, leaving Riley and Kyle there helpless. Mind still spinning, Kyle rubbed at his face with a groan before turning his attention back to his intimidating friend. 

“Who the hell was that?” he asked. 

“Everyone calls her Junior. Shepherd’s kid,” Riley said with a sigh as he looked down at the USB. 

“You’re kidding?” Kyle countered. 

“Wish I was. She’s a proper pain in the ass,” he mumbled. “Probably got a good copy of the data off of this before she even snuck it into your pocket. Doin’ daddy’s dirty work for him. Christ.” 

Kyle looked back toward the street where you had vanished off to as if the sight of you would make his mind recall your existence any easier. You were an enigma, some truly otherworldly being that managed to make him look like a dunce. 

“What’s her name?” he asked, looking back at Riley. 

“Fuck if I know,” he grumbled as he shoved the USB in his pocket. “I’m not exactly havin’ tea with her, Garrick.” 

Kyle scoffed at the man’s bluntness but otherwise didn’t say anything else. His mind was too busy replaying the events of that night to come up with a proper answer, anyway. You were good at your job, he’d admit that much at least. Your cover, the way you pretended to come onto him in order to sneak the USB out of the club, all of it. Perhaps he shouldn’t have expected anything less of Shepherd’s daughter. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the bastard had trained you since birth. 

None of that mattered, though. You knew of his mother, his true family, and you had admitted it so nonchalantly. That knowledge caused an uncomfortable pit to form in his stomach, one that made him curious as to how you happened across that information. 

Riley was right about one thing at least, you really were a proper pain in the ass. 

[silhouetteonpaper]

Mind and Matter

Summary: When your plan to save New York goes awry, Natasha decides there’s only one person to blame. Natasha x Reader & Wanda x Reader WC: 1,502 Warnings: fighting, use of powers on each other, going unconscious A/N: Just something short and sweet for tonight! I hope you enjoy <3

“It’s the only option.” You explain to the team as they wrack their minds for any plausible idea on how to save the city. A villain with access to the Power Stone is currently wreaking havoc on the town just outside the window, millions of lives at stake. The only idea you can think of is attempting to stop him using your own powers created by the Power Stone. 

You’re immediately met with adverse reactions. “You know our number one rule, we don’t trade lives.” Steve speaks up, making you roll your eyes.

“C’mon, have a little faith in me. If it were anyone else, you’d be all in.” You argue with crossed arms. Nat steps up, calming you before things get too heated.

“Hey, you know that’s not true. It’s not that we don’t think you can do it; it’s purely too big a risk.” She assures, exchanging a nod with Steve. You relent with a deep breath, nodding back at the two. They’re right, it’s a risky move. But that’s not to say you aren’t willing to take that chance in order to save millions.

Tony’s next to offer an idea. “Alright, so no sacrificing the kid.” You elbow him in the ribs, receiving a shrug in response. “What about combining the stone’s effects? Two is stronger than one…” He has a point, making you raise an eyebrow to see what the rest of the team thinks.

“You could be onto something. Wanda? How do you feel about that?” Steve directs his attention to the redhead off to the side of the room. She seems to be more focused on the destruction outside, rather than the planning happening right before her.

“That’d surely be safer. Are you okay with it?” Wanda looks to you, her gaze making you swallow any fears before they even had a chance to rise.

“I’m game.” You tell the group with a deep breath. Everyone nods reassuringly, a plan quickly coming into place. With the combined energy of two stones, the Power and Mind Stone, maybe there’d be a chance at saving the city. There’s only one way to find out.

After a brief moment of preparing to expel an extreme amount of energy, you find yourself out on the streets of New York City amongst the chaos. Screaming herds of people flee the streets, leaving an open space for you and Wanda to battle it out with the hooded figure wielding a purple crystal.

Before he noticed the two of you preparing, Wanda called out her signal. “You ready?” She spoke over her earpiece, both of you on opposite sides of the enemy hiding behind whatever debris kept you unnoticed.

“Ready!” You responded, waiting for her ‘go’ before jumping into action. Within seconds, a purple beam of light shoots from your hands into the depths of the street. Each fragment of light makes your arms burn, the sensation filling your entire abdomen.

A red streak of energy omits from the other side of the hooded figure, each beam finding its way to the enemy as you and Wanda push harder and harder to destroy him. The heat inside of you rises, the fiery feeling flowing inside your veins as the purple glow grows stronger. A bright orb surrounds the figure, a protective move cast by the one wielding the stone.

Every ounce of energy you can spare is targeted towards him, the little gleam of the power stone almost taunting you with how close it is. The tiny stone that causes so much destruction, yet also is the reason you harness so much power. Now in the wrong hands, you feel a sense of hatred towards it, yet you can’t deny it has offered you so much power in the right hands—your own hands.

“He’s breaking! Keep going!” You barely hear Tony’s words of encouragement over the strain in your chest, the aching feeling of everything you have being sent out before you. So close, just a little longer and you’ll have successfully saved New York.

But after only another moment of being blinded by your own power, you notice the glowing orb is gone, the hooded figure now flying up in the sky. It only takes a second for the red beam to hit you dead in the chest, your entire world going black.

“No!” Wanda yells, her red energy soon dissipating like a gust of wind. Her feet pound the concrete as she approaches your unconscious body, but not before a certain someone stops her.

“Get away from her,” Natasha runs over, wasting no time to bend down and check your pulse. Her expression reveals the seriousness of the situation before Steve and Tony have even caught their breath at your side. “She’s barely breathing, we have to get her to the med bay. Let’s move!”

Scooping you up and bringing you back towards the compound before losing your pulse, the team barely has time to see Wanda overcome with guilt. As her eyes fill with tears while rushing after you, she places every ounce of responsibility on herself.

There’s barely any time to sit and sulk, Natasha laying you down in the med bay as Bruce quickly hooks up machines to keep you alive. “What happened out there?” He asks with concern, noticing the purple skin around your chest. Natasha only shakes her head at him, eyeing Wanda who now stands in the corner pacing back and forth.

After hours of waiting, hours of wishing things went differently, Nat finds herself sitting by your bed in the white-walled room, thinking to herself of how she could’ve prevented this. It isn’t until you move your hand under hers that she notices you’re awake.

A deep breath of relief makes you smile as your eyes flutter open. “You’re awake, thank goodness.” She breathes, her thumb rubbing over your hand. You spend a moment taking your current state into account. Nothing is broken… but wow, your abdomen hurts.

“Did we do it? Did we get the stone back?” You ask with a small sense of hope. Natasha’s slow head shake destroys any ounce of that, though. She continues to gaze at you, a worried expression still covering her face.

“Will you worry about yourself for once?” She questions, her own instinct to protect you stronger now that you’re lying here injured.

“I’ll have to ask Tony how.” You tease, finally making Natasha laugh. Now it’s your turn to take a breath of relief, that is until you remember the events from earlier.

The image of Wanda’s red beam of light makes you flinch. “Wanda! Is she alright?” You ask with concern. Now recalling what happened, you know that Wanda would only blame herself for the terrible accident.

“She’ll be okay, you need to rest and recover right now.” Natasha attempts to reassure you, but it doesn’t work.

“Please get Wanda, I need to be sure she isn’t blaming herself.” You demand, watching as Nat raises an eyebrow at you. “It’s not her fault! Nat, please!” Giving in to your pleas, Natasha stands and heads out of the room.

Only a few minutes pass before a familiar face enters, covered entirely in an expression you expected. Guilt. Wanda takes a few hesitant steps towards you, waiting at the edge of the bed before you pat the side, giving her explicit permission to sit next to you.

Still, she keeps to herself and is cautious to move the bed too much. It’s unlike her, and you can tell something is wrong. You start to talk her out of it before she interrupts. “Wanda-“ 

“No, this is completely my fault. I’m so sorry, I was so focused on putting all I had into my defense that I wasn’t quick enough to change direction…” Wanda explained, tears beginning to fall from her eyes once more.

“This isn’t your fault Wanda, I promise I don’t blame you. It was a sneaky move on his part, we couldn’t have predicted that.” You console her in hopes she drops the accusation.

“No, no, I should’ve been more careful-“ 

You’re quick to interrupt her this time. “No, Wanda. Listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You were working so hard, no one can blame you for that. The only way I can be 100% alright is if you are too, okay?” You express. She only nods, a small heartfelt smile creeping onto her face as you reach for her hand.

That’s when Natasha walks back into the room, making your focus shift. “And you, forgive Wanda, please. It’s no one’s fault. The quicker you guys resolve your issues, the faster I’m back out on the field.” You tell her firmly.

The silence is broken as soon as she laughs, walking up to Wanda to put a hand on her shoulder. “Alright, alright. But just because you helped us feel better doesn’t mean you’re healed. You still need to rest.” Nat voices. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling in defeat.

“Damn it.”

[jinnie-ret]

anti-hero

poly bang chan x hero!lee felix x villain!reader | superhero au

genre: superhero au, fluff, angst

content warnings: implied past bullying, implied anxiety, it's fluffy as well though I promise

word count: 3.6k

summary: their paths were destined to meet one way or another. it just so happens it all goes down in a way chan least expected.

header by @writingforstraykids thanks for making this my love!!

for @miuracha I hope you enjoy my lovely :)

this was part of the make miu smile event which you can find here

MAIN MASTERLIST

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

The villain of the city, it was fun for you until it wasn't. You yearned to wreak havoc upon those who always judged you, made you feel like a monster, to those who managed to pierce your heart with their disgusting words that had been thrown at you with such ease. That, was your origin story. Maybe in another life you'd be living in a small cottage outside the busy day to day life of a place which was filled with cars, buildings, noise, and more cars. You wouldn't have to fret over public appearances, despite your masked form, the 'Shadow' that haunted Seoul. You wouldn't have to pretend anymore to fight against your lover, the hero who had made everyone feel safe again, feel safe just because you purely existed.

Lee Felix. A ball of sunshine. No, literally, he could blind any foes with his bright, burning orbs, torching their skin, destroying their vision, with indefinite permanence. The 'Blaze' that could never be outshined by anybody.

Oddly enough, such darkness and lightness coexisting meant that the two of you were bound to meet, bound to fight, bound to be fated together.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

News reporters from several different channels were immediately sent out in their vans once they caught word of another fight between Shadow and Blaze happening in the center of the city. And soon enough they were met with quite a rewarding sight for their careers.

Shadow was sprinting as fast as possible, slipping into dark alleyways and cursing Blaze in her mind when he managed to invade her spots and shine light from his scarred hands in order to 'catch' her.

Not long ago, she had trapped some men in a bubble of darkness before she sweeped the streets and did the same to a woman around her age. Of course, citizens of Seoul were terrified, hoping not to face that same choking, suffering and horrifying feeling of being unable to move and left to hear all of their own thoughts. Her darkness was one that nobody would want to experience.

Enter Blaze, here to save the day. Per usual, he threw on his big smile and reassured scared crowds of people that they were safe when he was there, a slight sadness in his voice that went undetected.

There to capture the chase across the city, were helicopters filming from above, the whirring of the vehicles making Shadow smirk from beneath her black veil. What an amazing show they were creating. She skidded round the corner, her shoes leaving tracks of obsidian. Small pieces of tarmac flew up, scraping the backs of her legs. Blaze was only a few feet behind her. He was running at the speed of light, perks of the job. Keeping up the act, Blaze had freed the trembling victims of Shadow's wrath, and directed emergency services towards them. They'd be fine, in all due course.

Shadow panted as she came to a hault, finding herself in a dead end of the road, construction equipment and barriers up, stopping her in her path.

"End this now, Shadow," Blaze righteously spoke, projecting his voice so that everyone could hear him.

"End what? It's such a lovely day, is it not, my dear ray of sunshine?" Shadow cackled, dark storm clouds threatening to cloak the city in its grey, velvety blanket of gloom.

"You've caused enough chaos around here!" Blaze boomed in his deep voice, cutting through the clouds and letting spires from the sun creep through and soothe the dull of the city.

"Not quite," Shadow smirked, before moving her hands round in circular motions.

She summoned decaying vines, uprooting the concrete nature of man made civilisation, and introducing it to the lives that inhabited it. There were screams of terror as people got wrapped tightly, like they were being swallowed up by the grip of a cobra's coil. Fallen. Shaking.

"Not this again, she said she wouldn't do this anymore," Blaze sighed, before boosting his form up from the ground and propelling small flames towards the vines, breaking them apart and releasing more and more people from their encaged nightmares.

"Oldest trick in the book, sweetie," Shadow grinned widely, a black tongue sticking out past her lips as she teased the villain once more.

Oh how he wished she wouldn't tease him so much, but she knew he could handle it, he supposed, and he knew she'd be able to handle the actions he was about to take.

"Shadow!" Felix projected his voice once more, "you have terrorised this city one too many times!"

And with that, he blasted her a few streets away, making sure she had wrapped herself up in her elusive, shimmering cloak before he did so.

Screams of joys and cheers erupted around the city, people gathering around Blaze and praising him before he saluted them and vanished before their very eyes. He found where Shadow was immediately, hidden around an abandoned street where they knew nobody would see them. Or so it seemed.

"Y/Nnie, you ok love?" Felix approached the dark spot quickly, a grin appearing on his face when he saw the exhausted smile of his lover.

"That was quite the show," Y/N applauded her boyfriend before they embraced for a moment, her cloak slightly slipping off of her shoulders.

"You're telling me that? You trapped more people than normal in those dark bubbles, making me work harder you are," Felix chuckled and poked her cheek.

"Gotta switch it up?" Y/N shrugged, relishing the physical contact she had with Felix, appreciating his presence. It soothed something inside of her, made her calm.

"Who was it this time?" Felix prompted, wanting to know why she had trapped those certain people. Y/N always had a reason for these things, despite what the public view was. No one would believe that the villain thought carefully about who she targeted, why would they? They saw her as a reckless heathen who didn't belong anywhere.

"Well first, there was this group of perverted guys creeping on some teenage girls," Y/N began, her fingers stroking delicately over Felix's hands. He watched her explain with full attention.

"Mm, fair, ok, and what about that girl, she was like the same age as you, I swear," Felix wondered.

"Oh, her, ugh," Y/N rolled her eyes.

"You know her, love?" Felix tilted her chin up so she'd look up at him.

"Stacey Arnold, locked me in the cleaning cupboard at high school..." Y/N trailed off with a sigh. Black smoke lifted from her her hands covered in the same colour as she reflected on those torturous years.

"And...?" Felix rose an eyebrow, subtly switching the grips of their hands so that he could eradicate the air of her stygian darkness.

"Why does there have to be an and?" Y/N grumbled, still hesitant sometimes to reveal what had happened in her past. Hesitant to reveal what made her feel like a shameful being, a monster on the hill.

"There always is," Felix sang lowly, pressing his forehead against hers.

"She cut off a chunk of my hair," Y/N grumbled, kicking some stones.

"Oh no I love your hair," Felix pouted, pulling away to touch her hair and admire it.

"I'm starting to think my hair is so dry because of the heat from your hands when you're grabbing it," Y/N joked, teasing Felix about when he'd get all hot and bothered, like now, even when he was blushing.

"Wanna test that theory?" Felix leaned closer, brushing his lips against hers in the beginning of a much needed make out session.

Unbeknownst to them, was a man only slightly older than them, traipsing the streets of Seoul after the huge fight that had happened.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

Enter, Chan. He had been walking with a blue notepad in hand, pen balancing on his ear which held the weight of his clear lens glasses. Fluffy brown hair sat atop his head, a frown formed on his face as he began to think would a story of his ever get published?

Well, now he had a story alright, the city's superhero Blaze and Villain, Shadow, caught in a steamy situation.

That is, if his boss would ever believe it. He hadn't progressed as far in his career as he would have liked to, always being undermined as an apprentice despite his allegiance to the Seoul Life company for six years. Six years and he was miserable. The newspaper wasn't very popular anyways, the only way they'd catch attention would be with a controversial headline, one that sparked distasteful rumours. Well, at least he had one that would be telling the truth this time. He just hoped and prayed it would get accepted. His other articles hadn't been before.

"No, Chan, no one cares about these supposed musical injustices of artists having no rights over their own music!" his boss slammed down the typed out copy of Chan's story down on his desk in the head office. Deep wrinkles set on the man's forehead.

"People care! I care!" Chan insisted, a look of desperation on his face.

"I'm scrapping it, you need some sort of better story," his boss leant back in his chair, rolling his eyes.

"No, sir! Please don't! I really think it could-"

"Watch this, and learn," his boss's voice pierced through his apprentice's words, as he he promptly fed the shredder beside him with Chan's hard work.

"I'm sorry," Chan looked down, feeling guilty that he once again had not created a successful report for the company. He didn't even know why they kept him around anymore, probably just to collect the coffees and do the printing.

But upon this day, he headed to the top floor of the building and knocked excitedly on his boss's door.

"Yes? What is it?!" his boss called out, seemingly in a good mood until he saw Chan and frowned.

"I got you your coffee. And I've got an amazing story to go with it," Chan was firm with his words, determination and adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"This better be good..."

"Another fight just happened with Blaze and Shadow-"

"I know this Chan, that's why I sent out the competent writers of this company to go and report," his boss sighed, sipping his coffee and hissing when it was still too hot on his tongue.

"Well I bet they didn't see the arch enemies of the city making out in a back alley," Chan grinned, raising his eyebrows up.

"Out of all the things I have heard..." his boss pinched the bridge of his nose.

"It's true! Look I managed to grab a photo!" Chan pulled out his phone and showed evidence, causing his boss's eyes to widen.

"Well I never... I tell you what boy, we'll publish this, if you can get this story done in 1 hour we'll send it out straight away! We'll publish it online before the other companies can even think about speculating this sort of story. I think you could have us earning some good money here!" his boss, for the first time ever, smiled in front of him. And that was all the motivation Chan needed, all the motivation he needed to prove himself.

It had been 2 days since the article had been published. 2 days, since chaos erupted. Online, hateful comments were sent Chan's way, claiming he was some sick fantasist who conjured up some fictional idea that two prominent figures, although one of them very hated, were engaging in such interactions.

He felt like his life was over. And the company did nothing to defend his name, despite the fact that his boss had been so enthusiastic about the idea and what profit and benefits would come from it. Sure, they caught a lot of attention, but not the right kind. So much so, that they publicly fired Chan, and stated that he was no longer working with them.

For the first time since the publication, Chan dared to venture into the city for a bite to eat, a treat to ease his stress. It seemed, it was only more stressful for him than he could have imagined. It wasn't so bad at first, but then people started recognising him and soon enough he was swarmed in a vicious crowd of people hurling insults at him.

"You sicko!"

"This man thought he could make us read a fanfiction?!"

"What a disgrace to our country!"

"Blaze would never do that!"

"Get him!"

He was spiraling, wishing that the ground would swallow him up, or that he could go back to before he made that article and live the dull normal life he lived before. Anything better than all of this attention on him.

"Stop... stop... I'm sorry... I wasn't lying... please..." Chan cried. He begged. He needed saving.

Good thing this city has a hero.

Before he knew it, he was encompassed by a warm soothing light, blaze, you could say. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Then peace and quiet. His heartbeat that was racing slowed down, and all he could hear was the deep rumbling of someone's voice trying to calm him, and the sizzling of food frying in a pan. It smelt delicious. Perhaps this would be the bite to eat he had attempted to get.

"It's ok, hey, you're safe, don't worry, no one will know where you are, I've got you," the deep voice soothed Chan out of his trance, warm hands cradling his face and he opened his eyes to see a handsome, freckled man in front of him.

Holy shit. It was Blaze. It was Blaze that saved him?!

"Take a seat, I know, it's shocking, I'll sign your autograph later, yeah?" Blaze giggled, sitting Chan down on a creaky sofa, and wrapping him in a black blanket.

"Stop being so cocky, Felix!" a female voice called out from behind him, echoing across the room in the direction of where that divine smell was coming from.

"Give me a moment," 'Blaze', or Felix, whispered to Chan, stroking his hair gently before comically marching away. "Hey! It's not my fault people get starstruck around me!"

"Yeah, yeah! Just give the poor man some food, he's shaken up," Shadow laughed.

Wow. Her laugh was much different to when he had heard her before. It was sweet even. Who would have thought...

"Right, umm, sorry, here, eat up!" Felix fumbled over his words before handing Chan a steaming plate of ramen.

"Ow!" Chan sucked air through his teeth, wincing at how hot it was.

"Shit! Sorry! I forget how you normies are with hot things," Felix rushed, "here, use the blanket to cover the sides, won't be so hot that way."

And that's what Chan did. He used the dark blanket that had been wrapped around him to cover the bowl from scalding his hands, and took a bite of the ramen, doing a happy little wiggle at the taste.

"Told you my ramen was the best," Shadow smirked, arms folded as she leant against the wall in front of Chan, boasting at her lover.

"Never said it was bad," Felix shook his head, before turning to grab a plate of his own.

This was oddly domestic, Chan thought. No one would ever really think about the hero and the villain of the city cooking together, or having this playful, teasing bickering. It was sweet, endearing, and he longed to have that.

"Hey is that my cloak?!" Shadow put her hands on her hips, glaring at Chan and therefore sending shivers down his spine.

"Felix... Ummm, B-blaze gave it to me... I think... I'm not sure... It was all a blur to be honest... I-"

"Y/N, leave him alone. The poor guy was just calming down and now you've gone and freaked him out," Felix tutted, making Y/N realise her mistake and she dropped her intimidating look.

"Sorry... Hmm, well, I guess I'll let you get away with it, you're pretty cute," Y/N shrugged it off, making Felix smirk at her knowingly.

"Uhh, thanks? Umm thank you for the food! It's really nice! And, umm, thank you for, umm, saving me," Chan rushed out his words, making sure his appreciation was hung in the air for the couple in front of him to see.

"That's ok, Mr Journalist," Felix grinned back, taking a bite of his own lunch.

"Ah so this is the one who tried to expose us, hmm?" Y/N's face lit up in recognition.

"Ah yeah, that's me. I'm sorry, I just wanted to get a good story out," Chan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before pushing his glasses up.

"It's fine, and to be fair, I can't even get mad at you, at least you were truthful," Y/N nodded in understanding.

She really had a much warmer heart than Chan could have ever anticipated. She was being so kind to him, so was Felix. He didn't expect it, and so, he put that down to the reason why tears welled up in his gorgeous brown eyes.

"Hey, it's ok, really, don't get upset," Felix put down his food to stroke Chan's back.

"It's just... things will never be normal again, everyone hates me," Chan sniffled.

At that moment, Felix glanced at Y/N to help out.

"Oh sure, I'll help, I can relate," Y/N nodded, hyping herself up to comfort Chan as she sat on his other side and took his hand in hers.

"I-i don't know what to do," Chan's voice cracked

"You can stay with us. No-one will be able to seek you out, ok? And soon you'll be able to return to normal everyday living, people will forget about it, I'm sure. You've got us now, ok?" Y/N spoke softly, hushing Chan's cries.

"Really? I-i can stay here?" he was astonished at the idea but he had no other choice. Plus, they had been so welcoming so far.

"You can. I mean it. As long as you don't spill food on my cape again," Y/N wrinkled her nose and rubbed away at the mark.

"Oh sorry! Umm, well, please, I'd like that," Chan nodded, and Felix wrapped an arm around him to offer further comfort.

"We've got you," Felix spread warmth around Chan's body, creating this fuzzy, happy feeling.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

1 year later, and Chan was still living with the couple. But things had changed, quite massively. Not long after he had began living with them he noticed many different things, ever so observant as a past journalist. The lingering hands, the kisses on the head when they thought he had fallen asleep, the invitations to cuddle them in their bed.

When he confronted them about it, after gathering the courage to, both Felix and Y/N were very frank about their feelings, despite the latter being slightly embarrassed that she had been caught out in her tender actions. After all, Y/N had quite the reputation to be cold and unloving, but Chan knew that very day be met her, that she was the complete opposite. And to him, Felix was different from his heroic persona too. Sure, he had his arrogant moments, but it was only ever said in a joking tone, and that warmth that he had seen in news broadcast footage, translated emotionally too. They were his support. His lifeline. And he'd be ever so thankful that he found them. They even helped him find his new hobby, one he was excited to make money about.

"We're back!" Felix and Y/N called out as they entered the apartment, both of them panting. From staging another fight scene, not anything else, you pervs.

"In here!" Chan yelled out happily, sat in front of his computer.

"Hard at work I see," Y/N kissed him on the forehead, resting her own head on his shoulder to snoop at what he had been working on this time.

"Wow, you've written quite the story there, love," Felix stroked Chan's hair as he squinted his eyes to see what was on the screen.

"Yeah, well, someone paid me ₩200,000 for a commission! Insane I know!" Chan breathed out a laugh, happy that his new job could bring money into their home together.

"What's it about this time?" Felix queried with genuine curiosity.

"Well, ok, so they wanted me to write an imagine where Blaze and Shadow were best friends at school but got separated after moving different countries. So it's got this friends to lovers, reunited trope going on," Chan danced in his seat happily as he explained to his boyfriend and girlfriend about what he was writing.

"You and your fanfiction, ey?" Y/N laughed fondly, rubbing Chan's arms.

"Well, if you can't beat them join them," Chan laughed back, "plus it's fun writing these made up scenarios, especially when people want to insert themselves into the story. I know I've got the real thing. I'm so lucky," he rambled on.

"Yeah, and soppy," Y/N pulled his chair away from the computer.

"Hey! I like the compliments, tell me more!" Felix sat on Chan's lap, dragging Y/N on top of him awkwardly as they shared giggles, stories and kisses about how their days had gone.

It certainly wasn't how Chan expected his life to go. But he wouldn't exchange it for anything now that he got a taste of love, and pure compassion.

Felix was the light that shone down upon him and saved him that very day. And Y/N was the shadow that was always there for him, no matter what. It made sense didn't it? After all, such darkness and lightness coexisting meant that there had to be a third in between the two, otherwise one would feel lonely without the other.

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

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @lixie-phoria

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

We need Dilf!Muzan headcannons now since you plotted that image in my head

Hehehe (ﾉ∀`♥) Of course! I love a DILF, especially dilf!Muzan~

And he lives in my head rent free! So i'm glad it's gotten into someone else's head or else i'd have burst!

Here's a little something with some DILF Muzan awhile back which was just me bouncing idea's around (￣∀￣.) - HERE

Also I'm more than happy to write this as a oneshot or mini series of something (＠＾▽＾＠.) cause the mental image is vivid on my brain and has me in a chokehold....

But anyway!

Dilf! Muzan Kibutsuji Headcanons:

Dilf!Muzan who accidentally bumps into you when shopping with his son and daughter, browsing the toy section with his kids babbling away in the trolley

Who's eyes shine as he talks to his kids, pointing gently to different toys and teddy bears and giving soft praise when they've picked without fuss - a mech that lights up and a helicopter with shootable missiles

All tall and broad

All pretty eyed with long black eyelashes

Sculptured brows and chiseled features

Dressed casually but still oozing with a certain charisma -

Black t-shirt hugging his form perfectly with grey tracky bottoms that sit tantalizing on his hips - throat becoming dry at the sight

His trolley knocks into yours and your heart skips a beat at his smooth silk voice apologizing for the brief moment of havoc

Who's hand is warm and larger than yours as he offers a handshake, nails as perfect as the rest of him

Taking in the feint blush across your cheeks and the stuttering breathe you take before introducing yourself

"And these two?" you ask with a soft grin "Who are these cuties?"

DILF! Muzan, who grins with a boyish charm, showing off canine and a set of dimples that make your heart stop

"These are my pride and joy," He says with a beaming smile "My daughter Chiyo and my son Kaito"

Chiyo (meaning 'a thousand generations') who's hair sits in beautiful inky waves down her back with eyes of soft pink, a gaze of childish wonder at the bright lights of the shop and shelves

Kaito (meaning 'Soaring over the ocean') with eyes of clear ruby and short wavy hair of ivory who blinks at you with a curiosity

You can't help but coo at them - "Aren't you adorable!" before turning to look at muzan with a smile

"You and your partner must be so proud of these two! I know I would be!" + "Ah, I'm single"

Que a silence that makes you want to die on the spot... Before your saved by his soft smile - "it's okay, it happens all the time"

You insist on making it up to him

Afterwards, each week you both meet each other - sometimes by accident sometimes on purpose - in the shop, following each other around and talking before parting ways after paying

Until one day he offers you a piece of paper, his gaze averted with a feint blush - "It's my number...." He murmurs "I thought we could go for coffee next week if your free"

A false bravado slipping onto his face as he turns to look you in the eyes, voice raising into a question "Thats if....if your alright with going out with dad of two?"

[spectral-snippets-and-drabbles]

A Martyr From the Ashes

For everyone in the fandom saying saying that Danny thinks Martian ManHunter is cooler than Superman, we don't really see it all that much in writing.

I'mma try and fix that...

~•~•~•~•~•~

The Martian Book of Legends held the heroic tale of Saint Da'han'yul Fen'tuun of Mars, a sickly albino priest of a small town that held marriages, sermons regarding life and how it should be enriched and lived to its fullest, and specialized in funerals that used cremations with fire, a feat thought to be physically impossible by the masses. As people saw him look into the flames without fear while others cowered, rumors spread that the young man was blessed by H'ronmeer himself, the Martian God of Fire, Life, and Death.

People spoke about how Da'han'yul turned down all attempts at courtship, for he had decided to dedicate his life to bring light in the darkest times to all lives in the name of his God. He was a thing of beauty with a gentle soul and shy demeanor, even the Red and Green skinned who had still held a firm belief on the caste system could not deny his charm. How the terminally ill Martian carried on his mission with a smile, nobody knew.

However, tragedy struck on the day that should have spelled the beginning of the end for the Martian people. A parasitic species had invaded the Martian Homeworld and was causing untold havoc. As civilians fled from the threat and prepared a counter offensive, it was Da'han'yul Fen'tuun who charged into the danger headfirst to save his people from becoming prey.

As others pleaded for him to run away, in a great bright flash of light, a gigantic Martian loomed over the enemy emerged where the ill Martian stood, coated in flames in a form they've never seen before with a halo and body that burned a haunting green.

The deafening silence still held as the enormous creature brought a massive fist on the giant pale walker that was destroying homes. A wave of its hand sent a wall of green flames raced towards the foot soldiers, reducing them to ash while his people and buildings were not harmed in any form without an ounce fear of these fires the creature used to purge the enemy. Within the hour, the threat had been neutralized and peace was brought back to the red planet.

As the Martian people looked to the titan, they knew. H'ronmeer's had chosen his most loyal servant, Da'han'yul, as the avatar of his wrath to smite those who would bring his people harm. The people hugged and wept tears of joy and cheered for the priest and H'ronmeer for saving them, but the tears soon became tears of sorrow.

The giant groaned in pain as he fell on one knee as it began to crumble into ash before the people's very eyes. Like a flame, Da'han'yul Fen'tuun had burned his brightest when life needed him most, and now death called to him as it slowly extinguished it to give him peace. With a final message, he pleaded to his people to come together as one and to not see one another as lesser or greater than, but as equals who can help one another in the darkest of times and the hardships yet to come. With his final moments gone, a final telepathic embrace was given to all before he fell silent for the last time.

The massive pile of ash that were his remains was brought back to his little village and made into a beautiful garden of ash in the temple where the newly titled Saint made his home in, where it would be made a holy site that many would come to give their thanks and pay their respects for H'ronmeer' and his champion alike.

And for centuries, peace was held before it was shattered by Ma'alefa'ak, who unleashed the Fire Plague to take vengeance on his people for his inability to experience the psionic way of life that was the norm. His smile as his people screamed in anguish was knocked off his face in the most literal of terms when a Martian struck him down and had him by the throat.

A Martian with eyes burning in anger as Ma'alefa'ak failed to break free and was being beaten severely for his crimes against the people of Mars. A Martian made entirely up of ash and green embers.

Saint Da'han'yul Fen'tuun had returned, if only for a moment longer. And he was not happy.

Quickly, one by one across the planet, the martians set ablaze burned a gentle green that healed them. In this miraculous act of divine intervention, not a single Martian had lost their life. Most were now unconscious with labored breathing being heard.

J'onn watched on as his brother screamed in agony as his body burst into green flames as a pool of ash began to swallow his brother whole. Before disappearing entirely, Da'han'yul told him the punishment his brother would be facing.

"Ma'alefa'ak's psionic abilities have been awoken. He will be sentenced to become a living flame until he has lived the collective life span of all that he has tried to extinguish."

J'onn was too stunned to speak. With how long a Martian can live, it was the equivalent of telling him his brother would be suffering for an eternity. It seemed unethical, but he knew his brother had dug his own grave the moment he saw the reanimated remains of Da'han'yul Fen'tuun's ashes take swift action.

"Everything will be ok now, J'onn. Go to your family and tend to them.

"Da'han'yul...Thank you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you when you were still alive." J'onn solemnly uttered as he looked to the ground, unable to look at his deceased youngest brother.

"Nonsense J'onn, it's not your fault...The caste system...it–"

"I could've done more! Instead I saved myself instead of being there when my brothers needed me most!"

"J'onn...you were just a child."

"It makes none of it right!"

He was right in that aspect, but it still didn't feel right. Ma'alefa'ak' was ostracized by society, was treated like a freak of nature for lack of natural gifts and he wanted to burn society to the ground in the most literal of terms because of it.

While Da'han'yul, the forgotten youngest brother, was treated horribly for being albino and treated cruelly. He contracted a deadly disease when he separated himself from the family to live in isolation with other albinos that made him sickly and cut his life expectancy down severely. Knowing what befell him, seeing him struggle to move and hold down food at times while J'onn and their parents did nothing.

These tumultuous emotions sat in J'onn for so long. The way he wanted to go and help them both, but the fear of association and social punishment for merely being seen with his brothers made him cry when he younger for being so weak willed. It wasn't until their parents bragged about the sacrifice their forgotten child had made, the sone they purposely scorned made him snap.

"J'onn, promise to keep my message alive for me. Help our people become whole again."

"Of course, brother." Is what J'onn tells him as he watches his little brother vanish again for a third and final time.

[viridwns]

The way I've been daydreaming about an innocent and go lucky darling slowly being caged by demon!Chrollo.

Also I wrote this at 2 AM so expect spelling mistakes and the plot making no sense. Tbh this sounds like regular Chrollo as well.

Demon!Chrollo, who was summoned by some low ranking mob boss. The idiot thought that with a demon by his side, he would quickly rise the ranks.

Demon!Chrollo, who manipulated said boss in summoning his troupe as well. After he didn't even need to flick his wrist or bloodsplatters already tainted the walls

Demon!Chrollo, who has waited millenias to be summoned again. Being locked away by the zoldyck's for messing with their affairs was a greater problem than Chrollo would've liked.

Demon!Chrollo, who kept a low profile, preparing him and his troupe to start hoarding things from the human world again. Especially rare ones that were not easy to obtain. He was crazy about that.

Demon!Chrollo, who slowly but surely gained power again, wreaking havoc on everyone who did him wrong. He stayed in the shadows while he did, pouncing on human souls when they least expected it. Oh, how he missed feeding of the people from earth.

Demon!Chrollo, who first saw you in your pretty white sun dress wearing a big white bow in your hair to match. You were sitting by a window reading in a smalltown bookshop. He had been planning on taking over this town soon enough. He needed to gain as much strength as he could before terrorizing the big cities like York New.

Demon!Chrollo, who grows curious of you. The bookshop itself was deserted. It also didn't help that you were wearing something so bright in contrast to the dim shop. Even the town was somber, so why were you dressed all pretty and light?

Demon!Chrollo, who couldn't help but focus intensly on your soft face. You honestly looked like the human version of a bunny. Is this what humans meant with cute?

Demon!Chrollo, who is amused by your lack of awareness. He's been standing in the middle of the shop for 10 minutes staring at you, and you were totally captivated by your book

Demon!Chrollo, who can't help but clear his throat. Biting back an involuntary smile when your head moves into his direction, but your eyes stay on your book a while longer.

Demon!Chrollo, who says he didn't mind when you apologize vigorously for making him wait once your focus shifted on him. He finds it strange how he didn't kill you yet. You were alone in a deserted place, this was the perfect opportunity, but yet he can't help to find out more a about you.

Demon!Chrollo, who finds out you were the owner of the shop, but business has been running slow. You were still weirdly upbeat, even when you were on the verge of going broke.

Demon!Chrollo, who buys a few books based on your recommendations, you just keep rambling on to him, not a care in the world. He lets you reach for books on the highest shelves, just to see you stand on your tippy toes. Your frilly dress lifting ever so slighty for him to see where exactly your stockings stop. Mid thigh. He swoops in last second, when you were about to get a ladder, leaning over you from behind and getting the book; apologizing for letting you do so much work.

Demon!Chrollo, who can't get enough of your soft smiles, small giggles and your sunny personality. When you're from a world that has only seen the worst of mankind, you were a welcomed refreshment.

Demon!Chrollo, who thinks it's stupid how fast you trust him, but it bothers him more to think about how quickly you would trust others. You just don't seem to think you can get hurt.

Demon!Chrollo, who takes the initiative to visit you every day. He must protect his angel.

Demon!Chrollo, who is surprised by how little you know about the actual world. You see the world in rainbows and glitter, not having seen what's out there beyond this smalltown life. When he told you one of his 'adventures' (leaving the not so pleasant details out) you couldn't get enough of it.

Demon!Chrollo, who has to hold back when you listen to him with your eyes wide and big, your mouth slightly parted, and your overhelming load of questions.

Demon!Chrollo, who secretly wants to corrupt you. Every time you wear a pretty bow or a white dress with lace stockings hugging your legs so nice, he can't help the urge to bend you over the cashier, lift up your so easily accessible dress to find out you are wearing silk panties and fuck you so hard your purity ring shatters right off your finger.

Demon!Chrollo, who wants to show you what he is, what an angel like you has been spending time with. He wants to drag you with him to hell, to consume your soul and make you like him.

Demon!Chrollo, who likes to show off just a fraction of his strength to you by moving furniture where you want it. Or who uses his speed to steal some of your stuff from right under your nose. You won't know it was him, you're too oblivious.

Demon!Chrollo, who never had such intense attractions to a human before. He wasn't inexperienced when it came to mates, but those were all to quench his needs. He couldn't help but want to lock you up and keep you at his side forever.

Demon!Chrollo, who uses his alluring voice to make you do what he wants. You won't even remember the next day. Thinking the bruising on your thighs is just from bumping into too many corners (even though some bruises look like very clear bitemarks of something that has sharp canines)

Demon!Chrollo, who won't penetrate you just yet. He wants you conscious for that. He uses his outwordly looks to seduce you. You're very playful, he finds. He never knows if you are flirting or just being...you. When you steal his book from him and he responds with cornering you, coming up all nice and close in your face, but you only respond with giggles, slapping the book in his chest and booping his nose before escaping his trap.

Demon!Chrollo, who also wants to keep you the way you are. Who wants to keep you as his little human who fills his day with a lovely smile. He wants you at his side as he destroys town after to town, as he becomes stronger and more powerful.

Demon!Chrollo, who keeps his cool with you but slowly cages you in. You don't leave the bookshop that much anymore, not when he is there most of the time, keeping you company and somehow taking care of your every need. He has taken a personal claim on your pure soul, and demons are very posessive of what is theirs.

[wttcsms]

i can walk you home and practice method acting ; satoru gojo.

pairing satoru gojo x f!reader   word count 1.3k   synopsis saying goodbye. content contains hurt/probably no comfort, bittersweet ending, allusion to character death, jjk 236 leak inspired author’s notes gege needs to sleep with both eyes open, no sweet dreams 4 him >:(

“You know, some people consider coffee dates as not real dates,” you point out. “Very cheap—”

“—your coffee was eight dollars, don’t start with me—” 

“—low-effort—”

“—you don’t even wanna know what I just went through before meeting you here—”

“—shows no interest—”

“—I’ve been interested in you since before I even knew you.” 

You pause your half-hearted attempt at teasing him. The truth is, there is nothing cheap, low-effort, or uninteresting about Satoru Gojo. No one has ever held your attention and your affections for as long or as strongly as he does. The world is reduced to nothing more than the cafe the two of you spent a lot of time frequenting beforehand. It’s why everything is in such startling, vivid detail. Some of your best memories are here, and it shows from the warm scent of coffee wafting in the air, and how you got his complicated frozen coffee order just right.

“Smooth. You use that line on all the girls you buy coffee for?” 

“Oh, other girls exist?” Satoru’s bright, cerulean eyes widen in mock surprise. If there’s one thing that your fiance is good at, it’s committing to the bit. No one gets into character as well as he does. 

No one ever will.

Trying to keep your darker thoughts at bay, you try to think of a retort but fall short, settling for, “How can you even be interested in someone before you even know they exist?” 

“Because everyone was boring to me ‘til I met you. All my interest was reserved specifically for you.” He hums. He doesn’t tell you the really sappy stuff he holds inside his heart, like how he thinks his soul knew that it belonged to you and that’s why he could never connect with anyone else. He figures, foolishly, that he still has time to bring it up later.

Later, when he’s not choking on his own blood and lost in the illusion you have shrouded the both of you in.

My beautiful, delusional girl. 

He says it to tease you, but the fondness with which he laces the words in only further proves how completely, utterly whipped he is for you. Somewhere deep inside of him, he’s well aware that he’s in your domain. That he is not sitting inside the cafe he nervously took you to the first time he got the nerve to ask you to hang out. He knows that this is nothing more than a cleverly crafted illusion used to make saying goodbye a lot easier for the two of you. 

Everything is just so vivid. The colors, the scent, you. He knows it’s selfish to want to drag out this process even longer. It must be tiring for you, to have to mentally strain to maintain this realistic illusion while also tricking his mind into ignoring the pain he’s actually in. He can see it in your eyes; the ones that never seem to want to leave his face, almost like you’re scared you’re going to forget him the moment you blink. 

He stretches, fakes a yawn. “It’s getting kinda late, don’t ya think? I should probably head home.” 

“I’ll walk you there.” You say, getting up from your chair. 

“You think a man like me can’t defend himself?” You want to remember Satoru like this: messy hair, eyes brimming with mischief and life, cocky grin. Maybe it’s your heart acting on its own accord, altering reality for your own benefit, but Satoru looks younger in this lighting. Happier. At peace.

“I think you’re the type of man people need to be defended from. It’s my civic duty to make sure you’re not wreaking havoc.” 

You know that time is limited. You know that neither of you really want to acknowledge what’s truly happening. Satoru has to go, and all that he’ll be leaving you behind with is the aftermath. If you try hard enough, you can manipulate your minds into thinking that these seconds are much longer than they actually are, but—

—he deserves to rest. 

That’s why walking him to his front door is an ordeal that lasts a total of two seconds. One blink, and the cafe has vanished. Now, he’s standing in front of his apartment door, still smiling, still bright, still alive. 

“So, you going to invite me in?” You tease him, keeping your tone lighthearted, as if he doesn’t know you well enough to know how you’re truly feeling.

“After just the first date?” He pretends to look offended. “I don’t know what kind of man you take me for, but I don’t let just anyone spend the night, especially only after a coffee non-date.” 

“Fine.” You pretend to contemplate, the smile on your face perhaps the only real thing here. “Will you let me hit on the second date, at least?”

“I’ll think about it.” And then, Satoru cocks his head to the side. “I’ll see you the same time next week?”

You don’t want to think about the real world. In this world, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.

You swallow back any sadness; Satoru swallows back any blood. 

“Text me where, and I’ll be there.” You say this, knowing that you would gladly follow Satoru right through the door that beckons for him. He’s smiling, like he knows what you’re thinking about.

“I’ll pick you up when it’s time. But, uh, if I don’t text you back soon, sorry in advance.” He gives you that boyish look of his, the face he always makes when he’s about to make an incredibly stupid joke. “I have a bad habit of ghosting people.” 

A kind of guttural sound leaves your throat; a choked up laugh and a barely concealed sob. Ghosting, really, Satoru?

“It’s okay. I have a bad habit of liking guys that are bad for my health.” 

“If you don’t hear from me, just know that it’s me and not you.” 

“I love being fed cliche lines like this. Tell me some more.” Tell me everything, you want to beg him. Let’s just stand here forever, and you’ll drag out the time, and he can talk for as long as he wants to about anything and everything. 

“Feeling a bit sleepy. The cliche lines will have to wait until next time.” He clears his throat. “Hey, I know we just had our first date—”

“—coffee doesn’t count, you still owe me a real first date.” 

He sticks out his tongue, childishly, at your interruption. “Is it too soon for me to tell you that I love you? I don’t normally move this fast, but I really do love you. Hope this doesn’t scare you away.” 

He could never scare you away.

You should tell him that, but something in his eyes and in his smile let’s you know that he’s already aware.

“Is it too soon for me to tell you that I love you, too?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda crazy. Lucky for you, I like crazy girls.”

“Please don’t go to sleep yet, Satoru. You haven’t even walked through the door yet, and I already miss you.” In the illusion you’ve created, you can take away that door from him. It won’t change the truth, but it can certainly prolong the pain that comes with it. You don’t, though. Even if his hand wasn’t already reaching for the doorknob, you would never take the choice away from him.

“Yeah, I have a lasting effect on women, what can I say?” He laughs, but there’s none of his trademark humor woven in it. The world goes quiet. “I’m feeling really tired, [Name]. I’m gonna head to bed now.”

“Goodnight, then. Sweet dreams, Satoru.” 

He looks at you. Really looks at you, like he’s trying to embed the memory of your visage on his pupils, to have it so permanently etched in his mind that he’ll still be able to remember you every time he closes his eyes.

“As long as you’re in every single one of them, they will be.” 

He opens the door.

a/n: reader's cursed technique is the ability to use cursed energy to "manipulate" reality; in all actuality, you create illusions, able to trick others into seeing whatever you're crafting. it helps in trapping curses, and letting gojo say goodbye to you without making you look at him choke on his blood

[cosmicdumpling]

cursed by the dawn's light » jeong yunho

SYNOPSIS: As a seasoned and solitary student of Jujutsu Tech, you value sternness, strength, and resilience. But when the relentlessly optimistic rookie sorcerer Jeong Yunho bursts into your life like a wrecking ball, his unyielding cheerfulness and enthusiasm begin to chip away at your carefully guarded emotional barriers, bringing a surprising light into your life, whether you want it or not.

PAIRING: yunho x fem!reader

GENRE/S: romance/fluff, angst with a fluffy ending, full fic

THEME/S: jujutsu sorcerers au, definitely a grumpy x sunshine fic, characters include the og jjk characters

⚠️ WARNING/S: profanities, violence (jujutsu sorcerers in action ofc), injuries, mentions of trauma and death

WORD COUNT: 9.7k

➺ MAIN MASTERLIST

You despise sunshine.

By sunshine, you don’t mean the literal sun— its warming rays are irrelevant to you. Rather, personalities like Gojo Satoru, who seem to constantly have a whole reserve of energy even when on the brink of death. 

Personalities like Gojo Satoru— the kind that exudes loquacity, laughter, and joy to the point of nausea.

Too bright.

That’s the first thought that strikes you upon seeing Jeong Yunho—a quirky boy trailing behind the exuberant, white-haired teacher as he leads him into the dorm’s common room. Yunho looks positively thrilled, completely unfazed by the environment he’s been thrust into.

Perhaps it’s because, as someone who guards themselves with towering walls of solitude, people like him and Gojo are overwhelming—draining rather than energizing. While you crave isolation, Yunho is the kind of person who bounds around, making friends and probing your every curiosity with reckless abandon.

Now, Jujutsu Tech seems to be home to not one, not two, but three annoyingly sunny dispositions (the other being Itadori save for Gojo and Yunho, of course).

Gojo Satoru is a master of persuasion, able to sway even the most stubborn soul to his side. If he were a bit more malevolent, he could easily be mistaken for an elusive kidnapper, even in broad daylight. As it stands, he’s toeing the line between mischievous and outright dangerous.

Because why on earth would he bring Jeong Yunho—a hopeful rookie with little understanding of curses, grudges, and violence—into the mix?

Then again, Gojo had taken you and Megumi Fushiguro under his wing when you were younger. It’s clear that you and Megumi were irreplaceable to him. Megumi’s father, a notorious sorcerer-killer who had wreaked havoc in the Jujutsu world, was a major influence, and his ties to the Zen’in clan—a powerful and influential family of sorcerers—added to his importance. As for you, your own past was marred by stories of struggle and notoriety, having been born into a world that held its own dark secrets.

So, despite the odds, you and Megumi had more than you seemed to lack. Even if those burdens often felt more like curses than blessings, you had something—something substantial.

But Yunho? He’s different.

Gojo had plucked him from the depths of the Miyagi slums, and you can’t help but wonder why Miyagi seems to breed such impossibly bright, extraordinary individuals. Itadori came from that very place, and he’s nearly as radiant and exuberant as Yunho.

“Hi everyone, I’m Yunho!” the new arrival announces with an enthusiasm that seems to fill the room. “I’m going to be attending Jujutsu Tech from now on!”

The greeting is met with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. You can’t help but frown slightly at the unrestrained cheerfulness that Yunho brings with him. His bright smile, his animated gestures—it’s all so... sunshine-like.

As you stand in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the interaction unfold, you feel a mix of irritation and reluctant fascination. Despite your best efforts to remain aloof, there’s something undeniably magnetic about Yunho’s presence. He embodies everything you’ve always thought you couldn’t tolerate—yet here he is, challenging your perceptions in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

“Yeah, welcome,” you manage to say, though your tone lacks the warmth that Yunho’s radiance seems to demand. “I’m Y/N.”

Yunho’s eyes light up as he turns to you. “Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Probably not all of it’s true,” you reply, glaring at Gojo, who has an ever-cheeky grin on his face.

“Don’t worry,” Yunho says with a grin, “I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. After all, if I can handle Gojo, I can handle anything!”

Yuuji bursts into a hearty laugh, his voice brimming with excitement as he declares that they’re destined to become the best of friends. Nobara, never one to shy away from a bit of competitive banter, quickly jumps in, teasingly asserting that she remains the best and that Yunho will have a hard time surpassing her. Megumi, true to his reserved nature, remains silent, though his quiet presence feels more inviting than your own. You take another look at Yunho and see him already blending seamlessly into the group, his laughter mingling with Yuuji and Nobara’s as they joke and play around. The dorm’s walls resonate with their cheerful noise, and for a moment, Yunho’s exuberant spirit seems to light up the entire space.

God, you absolutely loathe sunshine.

The day Yunho officially begins his first day as a student of Jujutsu Tech is marked by a crisp morning and the usual bustle of students going about their training. You’re leaning against one of the pillars in the courtyard, trying to focus on anything but the inevitable interaction with the new student. The quiet is short-lived, though, as you catch sight of Yunho bounding toward you with an infectious energy that already feels too much for this early in the day.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Yunho greets you with a bright smile, his eyes twinkling as if the world were one big adventure waiting to be explored. “How’s your day going so far?”

You don’t bother to hide the sigh that escapes your lips. “It was fine until now.”

Yunho’s smile falters for just a second before it returns, undeterred by your less-than-welcoming tone. “I’m glad I get to see you! Gojo-sensei said you’re one of the best sorcerers here.”

Your eyes narrow slightly at the mention of Gojo. “Did he also tell you that I’m not a fan of unnecessary chatter?”

Yunho chuckles, completely missing—or ignoring—your annoyance. “He did, actually! But he also said you’re someone worth getting to know. And I’m pretty good at making friends, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

You bite back a retort, instead fixing your gaze on some distant point beyond the courtyard, hoping Yunho will take the hint and move on. But he doesn’t. He’s still standing there, looking at you with that same infuriatingly cheerful expression.

“Look,” you finally say, “I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here to train, fight curses, and—most importantly—be left alone.”

Yunho nods as if he understands, though his expression remains unshaken. “That’s fair. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you ever need someone to talk to or spar with or, I don’t know, grab lunch with. No pressure!”

You glance at him, eyes narrowed. “You’re really not getting the message, are you?”

Yunho grins, a little sheepishly this time. “I get it, I get it. You’re the ‘lone wolf’ type. But everyone needs a little sunshine in their life, right?”

“Not me.” The words are sharper than you intend, but you don’t regret them.

Yunho steps back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I’ll back off. But the offer still stands.” He gives you one last bright smile before turning to leave, but not without adding, “And for the record, I think you’re more like the moon. Quiet, strong, and always there even if people don’t always notice.”

You blink, caught off guard by his unexpected comparison. But before you can respond, Yunho is already halfway across the courtyard, waving back at you as he heads toward the training grounds.

You watch him go, something unidentifiable stirring in your chest. He’s annoying, sure, but there’s something disarming about how genuine he seems. You shake your head, pushing the thought aside. You don’t have time for someone like Yunho—someone who radiates warmth and light like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You’ve built your walls too high, and you’re not about to let someone like him try to climb over them.

But as you walk away, you can’t help but think about what he said. About the moon. About being noticed.

And that’s what annoys you most of all.

It’s late in afternoon when you find yourself in one of the training rooms, trying to focus on perfecting a new technique. The space is quiet, just you, an enclosed space, a huge mirror, and your equipment— just the way you like it.

Or rather, just the way you liked it—until Yunho shows up.

“Y/N!” Yunho’s voice rings out across the room, breaking the silence as he bursts through the door. His face is lit up with excitement, and there’s an unmistakable bounce in his step as he heads toward you. “I finally found you! I was hoping we could train together.”

You barely glance up from your stance, tightening your grip on your weapon. “I’m busy.”

Yunho stops a few feet away, undeterred by your cold tone. “Busy training, right? That’s perfect! I could use some help with my hand-to-hand combat. Gojo-sensei said you’re one of the best at it.”

You sigh, finally turning to face him. “And why would I want to help you?”

He grins, that ever-present spark in his eyes making it impossible to ignore him completely. “Because I’m the new guy, and you’re the cool, experienced sorcerer who can teach me a thing or two. Plus, I bet sparring with someone like me will be more interesting than practicing alone.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Interesting? You mean annoying.”

Yunho laughs, the sound echoing in the large room. “You’re tough, but I’m persistent. I’ll grow on you eventually, just you wait.”

“Doubt it.” You shift your stance, preparing to return to your drills, but Yunho’s not done.

“Come on, just one round. I promise I won’t be a total pushover.”

There’s something in his voice—an earnestness that makes you pause. You study him for a moment, noting the determination in his stance. He’s serious about this, even if he’s doing his best to keep things light.

“Fine,” you relent, more to get him off your back than anything else. “One round. But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

Yunho’s grin widens, and he quickly drops into a ready stance. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two of you circle each other, and for a brief moment, you almost admire his enthusiasm. Then you push the thought away, focusing on the fight. You lunge forward, testing his reflexes with a swift jab. Yunho moves quickly, dodging and countering with a speed that catches you off guard.

He’s not just fast—he’s strong, too. You feel the force of his strikes, each one growing more precise as the spar progresses. There’s no hesitation in his movements, no second-guessing. He’s focused, but there’s still that underlying warmth in everything he does, as if even in combat, he’s not just fighting—he’s having fun.

It irritates you, how easily he moves, how effortlessly he seems to balance strength with that infuriatingly sunny disposition. As the round continues, you find yourself pushing harder, testing his limits. You throw a particularly forceful strike, and to your surprise, Yunho blocks it, his smile never faltering.

“You’re really strong, Y/N,” he says, breathing heavily but still managing to sound cheerful. “This is awesome!”

You grit your teeth, not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed. “Focus, Yunho. If you’re too busy talking, you’ll get hit.”

“Right!” He nods, but there’s no missing the excitement in his voice. He’s enjoying this—enjoying sparring with you, despite the fact that you’re trying your best to wear him down.

After a few more exchanges, you decide to end it. You see an opening and go for it, sweeping his legs out from under him with a quick, fluid motion. Yunho hits the mat with a grunt, and for a moment, the room is silent.

Then, as you stand over him, expecting some sort of complaint or excuse, Yunho looks up at you—and laughs.

“That was amazing!” he exclaims, propping himself up on his elbows. “You totally got me there!”

You blink, caught off guard by his reaction. “You… aren’t upset?”

“Upset? No way!” He jumps to his feet, still grinning from ear to ear. “I learned a lot just now. You’re incredible, Y/N.”

You stare at him, unsure how to respond. He’s serious—genuinely thrilled, even after you knocked him flat. There’s no resentment, no frustration—just that same relentless positivity.

“Next time, I’ll be ready for that move,” Yunho adds, his eyes shining with determination.

For a moment, you’re at a loss. You’re used to people getting frustrated with you, annoyed by your bluntness, or intimidated by your skill. But Yunho… he’s different. His optimism isn’t a front; it’s real, and it’s starting to chip away at the walls you’ve built.

“Whatever,” you mutter, turning away to hide the confusion swirling in your chest. “Just don’t think this means I’m your friend now.”

Yunho chuckles, not at all put off by your cold response. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But I’ll still be here, whether you like it or not.”

You don’t respond, but as you walk away, you can’t help but feel that maybe Jeong Yunho is more than just an annoying ball of sunshine after all, and that’s what unsettles you the most.

The midday sun casts long shadows across the training grounds, illuminating the dust particles swirling in the air as Yunho and Gojo face each other in the center of the arena. A small crowd of students has gathered around to watch the sparring session, their murmurs of anticipation filling the otherwise quiet afternoon.

You stand apart from the others, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as you observe the match unfolding before you. 

Ah, unlucky him.

Gojo had a knack for training his students in the most unorthodox ways. For some unfortunate souls—like Yunho—this often meant being thrust into a sparring match with him before even learning the basics. While Gojo used these impromptu battles to gauge a student’s style and potential, it wasn’t the most welcoming introduction for newcomers. His teaching method involves putting his students through rigorous tests before he actually starts their training. It's his way of assessing their strengths and weaknesses.

Every jujutsu sorcerer harbors a touch of madness—an inner frenzy that fuels their power, and he wants to see what kind of crazy one is. 

Gojo flashes his trademark grin, his blindfold concealing the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, Yunho! Show me what you've got!"

Yunho smiles back, his demeanor radiating warmth even in the face of such a formidable opponent. He settles into a defensive stance, his movements fluid but cautious.

The fight begins with Gojo launching forward, his speed blinding as he aims a swift kick toward Yunho's side. Yunho reacts just in time, blocking the attack with his forearm and sliding back slightly from the force. Instead of counterattacking, he takes a moment to regain his footing, eyes flickering with concern.

"Nice block!" Gojo praises, not missing a beat before darting in again with a flurry of punches.

Yunho dodges and deflects expertly, but each time an opening presents itself for him to strike back, he hesitates, opting instead to maintain his defensive posture. His face remains calm, but there's a noticeable restraint in his actions that sets your teeth on edge.

"Why isn't he fighting back?" you mutter under your breath, frustration creeping into your voice.

Yuuji glances at you, "Maybe he's just being careful? It is Gojo-sensei after all."

You ignore the comment, eyes glued to the arena as Gojo ups the intensity, his attacks growing faster and more precise. Yunho continues to evade, but the strain is beginning to show; beads of sweat form on his forehead, and his breaths come quicker.

"Yunho, you're not going to win by just dodging!" Gojo chides playfully, vanishing suddenly only to reappear behind Yunho, aiming a chop at his shoulder.

At the last second, Yunho spins around, raising his arm to block but not following through with a counterstrike. The impact sends him stumbling back, and a murmur ripples through the crowd.

"Come on, fight back," you hiss under your breath, clenching your fists tightly.

Gojo steps back, tilting his head curiously. "What's wrong? Afraid to hit your teacher?"

Yunho chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just don't want to accidentally hurt you, sensei."

A few students laugh at the notion, but you feel a surge of anger flare within you.

Gojo laughs heartily, clearly amused. "Oh? I appreciate the concern, but trust me, I can handle whatever you throw at me."

Yunho nods, taking a deep breath as he readies himself again. This time, he makes the first move, launching forward with impressive speed. He aims a punch toward Gojo's midsection, but his form is still hesitant, holding back just enough to lessen the potential impact.

Gojo effortlessly sidesteps, tapping Yunho lightly on the back as he passes by. "Better, but still too soft!"

The pattern continues, with Yunho attempting attacks that lack conviction, and Gojo easily evading or deflecting them. With each missed opportunity, your frustration mounts, a knot tightening in your stomach.

Anger.

It's what you feel as you watch him spar with the white-haired teacher who seems to be pleased with his defensive support battle style.

Gojo's pleased expression—one you’ve come to dread—is a clear sign of his satisfaction with Yunho’s performance. The boy is undeniably strong and brimming with potential, though he hasn’t yet mastered how to wield it. Gojo’s smirk reflects his delight at nurturing such raw talent, and if Yunho continues under his tutelage, he’s destined to become one of the strongest Jujutsu sorcerers.

But Yunho is a little... different.

One thing Gojo has discovered so far is that Yunho's fiercely protective instincts make him a challenging student. Yunho’s demeanor is typically bright and welcoming, but there’s a depth to his care for others that’s all too natural in his nature. It seems Gojo has to threaten someone to truly provoke Yunho into action.

Gojo’s eyes, hidden behind his signature blindfold, are locked onto Yunho. “You know,” Gojo calls out with a smirk, “I’ve always found that a little extra motivation helps bring out the best in my students.”

Yunho’s gaze sharpens, but before he can react, Gojo's movements are a blur. He’s suddenly in front of you, grabbing you by the arm with a grip that’s both firm and surprisingly gentle.

“Let’s see how much you care about your friend here,” Gojo says, his tone taking on a dangerous edge. “Yunho, if you want to see Y/N safe and sound, you’ll have to earn it.”

Yunho’s eyes widen, a flicker of panic crossing his face as he takes in the scene. Gojo pulls you closer, positioning himself as a barrier between you and Yunho. His voice is calm, almost mocking, as he continues, “I’m not going to hurt Y/N—yet. But how much will you risk to protect her?”

Gojo’s words are a calculated move to trigger Yunho’s protective instincts. The aura in the room thickens with tension, the air crackling with the energy of their confrontation.

Gojo’s voice rings out coldly, “I won’t hesitate to kill Y/N, Yunho.”

Yunho’s reaction is immediate. “You won’t do that… you’re a teacher.”

Gojo smirks, a glint of menace in his eyes. “Yeah, and the old higher-ups won’t execute Yuuji because he’s a student under their instruction.”

"Hey!" Yuuji yells from a distance, obviously not pleased about the comparison.

“It’s safe to say that I can and I will… if you don’t come and save her, that is.”

Yunho’s expression hardens, his fear morphing into fierce determination. 

Gojo’s grin widens. “You’re going to have to show me just how far you’re willing to go.”

With a swift, almost casual motion, Gojo shoves you back a few steps, but he keeps you within his reach. Yunho’s instincts kick in, and he lunges forward, his energy flaring as he tries to close the distance.

Gojo’s hand snaps out, catching Yunho mid-air with a burst of cursed energy that sends him crashing against an invisible barrier. The impact is jarring, but Yunho pushes through the pain, struggling to rise.

“You see, Yunho,” Gojo taunts, “every time you hesitate, Y/N gets closer to harm. Prove to me that you’re more than just a bright smile and endless enthusiasm.”

Yunho’s breath comes in ragged gasps, but his resolve is unshakable. He rises to his feet, his eyes locked onto Gojo with a fire that speaks of both his frustration and his fierce loyalty. 

With a determined roar, Yunho channels a powerful surge of cursed energy. The arena is engulfed in a wave of raw, golden light as Yunho unleashes a torrent of energy aimed directly at Gojo. The intensity of his attack forces Gojo to release his grip on you, his focus shifting entirely to the onslaught Yunho is unleashing.

You stumble back, catching your breath and taking in the sight of Yunho’s fierce determination. Gojo’s amused expression remains unchanged, but there’s a glint of respect in his eyes as he navigates the barrage of energy.

As the energy dissipates, Gojo lets out a satisfied chuckle. “Well done, Yunho. You’ve got spirit. But remember, this is just the beginning.”

You meet Yunho’s gaze, seeing the mix of relief and exhaustion in his eyes. The fight has tested his limits and brought out his protective nature. As the tension in the room starts to ease, you know this battle was not just a test of strength but a trial of his very character.

Gojo gives you a nod, his eyes gleaming with a knowing look. “Looks like Yunho’s protective instincts are well and truly triggered. Let’s see how he fares in the real battles to come.”

Yunho's not as efficient as Gojo, so of course, you got a little roughed up after getting caught into the training. But that wasn’t the reason why you were angry.

“Y/N! Thank God, that old man-child, I swear… Are you okay? Are you hu—“

“Stay away from me.”

Your voice is a sharp blade, cutting through the air. Yunho’s expression falters, but you don’t care to soften the edge in your tone. Your anger isn’t directed at the fact that you were used to trigger his instincts. No, it’s the sight of him standing there, looking more like a wounded, helpless puppy than a formidable sorcerer.

“I just don’t get it,” you snap, forcing yourself to take a step back, away from his outstretched hand. “You’re strong, Yunho. You have so much potential. But you’re wasting it. You fight to protect others, but what good is that if you can’t even inflict harm on our enemies when it’s needed?”

His eyes widen in confusion, a pained mixture of concern and regret clouding his usually bright gaze.

“I know,” you say, frustration lacing your voice. “I know you’re this big ball of positive energy, always radiating sunlight and believing in the good in everyone. You want to save the world, and you’re all about helping people. But here’s the thing—protecting others isn’t just about shielding them from harm. Sometimes, you need to be strong enough to confront and fight those who threaten them, not just stand in their way. What we’re up against isn’t some playground scuffle. We’re dealing with curses—yes, monstrous, grotesque curses. But the real fight isn’t just with those. It’s with the darkness that lurks within and around us, and you need to be ready to face that too.”

You inhale deeply, your gaze fixed on the ground, “We’re not just fighting curses anymore. We now fight people, too.”

Yunho starts to say something, but the words catch in his throat as you turn away, leaving him with the heavy burden of your disappointment.

“If you can’t summon the courage to fight, even when it means hurting others, or when something is at stake, then you’re not cut out for this. Here, you have to fight with everything you’ve got—no matter how much it hurts. No matter who you hurt.”

“You’re still awake, Yunho?”

The gentle cadence of Gojo’s voice pierces through the quiet of the common room, making Yunho jump slightly. He turns to see his teacher silhouetted in the doorway, a shadow of calm in the dim light.

“Hi, sensei. I was just—um, I couldn’t really sleep…” Yunho’s voice trails off, unsure of how much to share. His thoughts have been tangled ever since the earlier encounter, and sleep feels like a distant possibility.

Gojo steps into the room, his usual carefree demeanor slightly tempered by the soft glow of the evening. He surveys Yunho with a thoughtful look, the playful spark in his eyes dimmed. “Give Y/N some time,” Gojo advises gently. “She’s been through a lot. It’s not easy for her to open up.”

Yunho blinks, caught off guard by Gojo’s sudden insight.

Gojo leans against the doorframe, his expression shifting to one of rare seriousness. “Even when I took her in, it was more about providing for her than truly understanding her. She’s fiercely independent—learned to rely on herself more than anyone else.”

He continues, “I did take her in, house her and train her, bought her things here and there… but she grew up on her own. She’s always been fiercely independent, and she’s learned not to rely on anyone else, despite growing up under my care. Ever since she knew what environment she was getting herself involved in, she trained herself to separate her emotions from her duties as a sorcerer.”

Yunho nods, absorbing Gojo’s words. It makes sense now—why you keep everyone at arm’s length, why you seem so self-reliant.

Gojo’s gaze grows distant for a moment, and his voice takes on a somber edge. “She had a brother... Principle-wise, you could say that he was somehow like you; too kind-hearted for his own good. He was always trying to help others, even at his own expense. In the end, it was that same kindness that caused us to lose him. He couldn’t end things when he should have.”

Yunho’s heart tightens at the implication. He had heard whispers of a tragic past but had never grasped the full extent of it. Gojo’s words shed light on why you’re so guarded, why your heart seems so heavy despite your fierce independence.

A quiet settles between them, and after such a somber conversation, it feels like the night has reached a poignant, emotional clarity. Yunho speaks up after a moment of contemplation.

“Thank you, sensei.”

“For what?” Gojo raises an eyebrow, expecting Yunho to thank him for the advice, or perhaps for revealing something personal about you.

But Yunho surprises him. “For bringing me here,” he says, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. “I’m grateful I’m here.”

Gojo pauses, then smiles—a real, warm smile that’s rare to see. “You’re welcome, Yunho. Now, get some rest. You’ve got a lot ahead of you.”

As Gojo turns to leave, Yunho watches him go, feeling a little more at peace. He may not have all the answers yet, but he’s beginning to understand the people around him—and that’s a start.

The courtyard is bathed in the soft light of the afternoon sun, the air filled with the sounds of students going about their routines. You’re sweeping a bunch of leaves into a corner when Yunho approaches with a carton of banana milk in hand. His smile is as bright as ever, a contrast to your usual grumpy demeanor.

“Hey, Y/N!” Yunho’s voice is cheerful as he extendes the carton towards you. “I brought you something.”

You glance up from sweeping, taking the carton with a slight frown. “Thanks,” you mutter, not bothering to hide your annoyance. “I guess.”

Yunho’s grin doesn’t waver. “You’re welcome! I thought you might like it.”

As he turns to walk away, Yunho notices Yuuji standing nearby. Without much thought, he approaches him with the same enthusiastic energy.

“Hey, Yuuji!” Yunho calls out, “Do you want to train with me? I’m working on my hand-to-hand combat.”

“M-me?” Yuuji stammers, pointing to himself as if to confirm.

“Yeah!” Yunho nods eagerly, his voice fading as he approaches the flabbergasted boy. “I mean, if that’s okay with you?”

“I mean it is but… is something going on?” Yuuji asks, lowering his voice as he moves closer to Yunho.

“What do you mean?” Yunho responds, genuinely confused.

“You usually ask Y/N to train you, so I was a little surprised you’d ask me instead…”

“Oh, I’m just trying to give her some space,” Yunho explained with a casual shrug, and his usual smile on his face. “I realized I might have been a bit much lately.”

“I don’t blame him for failing to stay away from her to the point of suffocation; that brat really has incredible talent and charisma.”

Yuuji’s face goes pale at the familiar, sinister voice that rumbles from the mouth protruding on his cheek. “Ah!” he yelps, nearly jumping out of his skin.

“Sukuna, you jerk! Shut up and stop that, we’re on school grounds!”

Yunho laughs nervously, trying to shake off the tension. But before he can, Sukuna’s voice pipes up again, this time with a mocking lilt. “I look forward to battling you. Mind if I use a little strength on you, sunshine?”

“Sunshine? Really? You’re disgusting!” Yuuji snaps, trying to suppress the spirit’s influence.

“Why? You wanna be called sunshine too?” Sukuna taunts, his voice laced with amusement. “Don’t be bitter just because I call you a brat.”

“Shut up already!” Yuuji grumbles, his face flushed with frustration as he glances at Yunho, who’s trying—and failing—not to laugh at the exchange.

Soon, the two boys begin to spar in the distance, their movements a blur of energy and intent, while you, Nobara, and Megumi watch from a quiet vantage point, sweeping the area free of fallen leaves.

Megumi's husky voice cuts through the air, laced with a hint of disbelief. “You’re a hypocrite, you know,” he says, raising an eyebrow as he observes you from the corner of her eye.

“Huh?” You snap your gaze to him, caught off guard by the accusation.

“True. Yesterday, you basically told Yunho to fuck off in front of everybody. Just now, you were being sassy about him giving you a damn carton of milk. But now that he’s asking Yuuji to train him, you’re boring holes into the back of Yuuji’s head,” Nobara points out, her smirk widening as she sees your face flush with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

You frown, “I’m not jealous.”

“Oh, but I never said anything about being jealous,” Nobara grins cheekily, brows wiggling at your grumpy expression.

Despite your attempts to ignore and refute her claim, you found yourself glancing back at Yunho and Yuuji. Yunho’s laughter rang out, a genuine, carefree sound that contrasted sharply with the frustration you felt. You tried to ignore the twinge of envy and irritation, but it was hard not to let Yunho's infectious cheerfulness affect you. Seeing him so at ease and happy— in his natural element— was strangely comforting.

Despite the frustration, you find yourself staring at the banana milk carton in your hands, reading the messy writing scribbled in front. 

I’ll be better, just you wait! :)

The late afternoon light catches the scrawl, making the words seem almost as if they were glowing. Despite the intrigue, a small smirk makes its way on your lips when you snort in amusement.

He better be.

Gojo and Yunho are sparring again—if you can even call it that. To Gojo, it’s probably a way to pass time. To Yunho, it’s a chance to improve. 

The training ground hums with tension as you watch from the sidelines, arms crossed, your expression unreadable. You try to convince yourself you shouldn’t care about any of it, but your eyes remain fixed on the two figures in the center of the training field.

Yunho moves with precision, his footwork a blend of careful calculation and practiced agility. He anticipates every attack, his movements fluid and deliberate. Yet, despite his evident skill and potential, it’s clear what’s holding him back. Each strike he delivers is tempered by hesitation, an unspoken worry for the person across from him.

Anger bubbles up inside you again, though the reason remains elusive.

Is it the way Yunho wears that infuriatingly happy grin while sparring, as if the gravity of the situation doesn’t touch him? Or is it his unrelenting sunshine demeanor, that ceaseless ray of optimism that seems to benefit everyone around him but falls short when it comes to his own growth? Perhaps it’s the stark contrast between his vibrant spirit and the grim reality you grapple with daily. Or is it something deeper, a frustration you can’t quite name but feels like it’s gnawing at your insides?

Your frustration deepens as you watch Yunho, realizing that his reluctance to truly fight—to hurt if necessary—is not just a personal quirk but a barrier to his growth. It’s not just that he’s holding back for the sake of others; he’s doing so at the expense of his own potential. And that realization cuts deeper than you’d like to admit.

It’s not just about his fighting style or his incessant cheerfulness; it’s about the underlying fear that he might never reach his full potential because he’s too afraid to inflict harm, even when it’s needed. And that fear, that hesitation, is something you understand all too well.

As Yunho continues his practice, you find yourself grappling with a torrent of emotions—anger, frustration, and an unspoken worry that perhaps you’ve been too harsh, too quick to judge. You want him to fight, to push himself, to embrace his potential fully. But more than that, you realize, you want him to do it for himself, not just to fit into some ideal you’ve set.

Watching him, you can’t help but feel a pang of something you hadn’t fully acknowledged before—a mix of exasperation and genuine concern.

Gojo, as always, looks amused, his white hair gleaming in the fading light, eyes hidden behind his blindfold. He’s not even trying, just evading Yunho’s blows with an infuriating ease. There’s a smile playing on his lips, the one you know all too well—proud and teasing, like he knows something you don’t.

And then you see it again. Yunho pulls back, just slightly, before his fist connects with Gojo’s jaw, as if he’s afraid of hurting him. He’s always holding back, too worried about the impact of his own strength.

Pathetic. Weak.

But you know it isn’t weakness that annoys you so much. It’s something else. Something you refuse to admit.

He’s too soft. Too considerate. That kind of attitude will get him killed.

Your fists clench as the memory flashes in your mind. Your brother—his face pale, eyes wide as he tried to protect someone, and in the process, he had left himself open. His death had been quick, brutal, and the softness in his heart, the very thing that had made him love you so much, had also been his downfall.

The anger inside you twists and sharpens, coiling into a knot of frustration as you watch Yunho, another boy with too much potential and too little self-preservation.

Gojo dodges another half-hearted attack, his grin widening as he taunts, “Is that all you’ve got, Yunho? You’re not going to hurt me, you know.”

Yunho smiles in return, that ridiculous, bright smile of his. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he says, genuinely meaning it.

You snap.

"Stop it!" The words leave your mouth before you can control them. You stride toward the center of the training ground, your eyes burning with rage. Yunho blinks in surprise, lowering his stance, and Gojo looks at you with raised eyebrows, intrigued.

“Stop what?” Yunho asks, clearly confused.

“Stop holding back!” You shout, the frustration in your voice crackling like electricity. “You’re always holding back, worrying about others instead of focusing on winning! That’s not how this world works!”

Gojo’s smile fades a little, but Yunho takes a step closer, his expression softening. “I just… I don’t want to hurt anyone, Y/N. I don’t want to be like the curses we fight.”

“You idiot!” you hiss, taking another step forward. “If you keep acting like this, you’re going to get yourself killed!”

Yunho’s eyes widen, surprised by the intensity in your voice. He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him. “You have all this potential, and you’re wasting it because you’re too damn soft! Do you think the curses care about your feelings? Do you think they’ll hesitate when they have a chance to rip you apart?”

Yunho’s smile falters. For the first time, there’s something else in his eyes—hurt, maybe, or confusion.

“Y/N…” he starts softly, but you’re not listening.

“You’re weak,” you spit out, and the words taste bitter on your tongue. You don’t mean them, not really. But you have to say it, you have to believe it, because if you let yourself feel anything else, you’ll remember. You’ll remember how someone like him, someone with a heart too big for this world, can end up dead.

Your brother’s face flashes in your mind again, and your voice cracks despite your best efforts. “You’re going to die, Yunho. And no amount of kindness is going to save you from that.”

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Yunho stands there, his hands lowered, no longer in a defensive stance. His eyes, usually filled with warmth, are now clouded with something else—something you refuse to look too closely at.

“I’m not him,” Yunho says quietly. “I won’t die like that.”

You turn away, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You don’t know that,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.

Before you can say anything else, Gojo interrupts with a slow clap, his voice light but edged with something serious. “Well, that was a performance,” he says, grinning as he steps between you two. “Ah, young love!” He clasps his hands beneath his cheek, as if to emphasize the scene, clearly relishing in the drama.

You shoot him a glare, but deep down, you know he’s seen through you. Just like he always does.

“Shut up,” you mutter, turning on your heel and walking away, refusing to let them see the emotion simmering just beneath the surface.

The evening air is cool, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves outside the dorms. The halls are quiet, most students having retired to their rooms after a long day. You, however, are in the common room, curled up on the couch with a book in hand, trying to unwind. The dim light from the lamps casts a soft glow, creating a peaceful atmosphere.

That peace is short-lived.

For once, Yunho doesn’t burst into the room with his usual exuberance—no bouncy strides or radiant smile. Instead, his presence is palpable before you even catch sight of him. You remain engrossed in your book, barely acknowledging the change.

“What do you want?”

He hesitates for a moment before speaking again. “I… I wanted to talk about earlier. I could tell you were upset.”

“Upset?” You scoff, finally looking at him. “I’m not upset. I’m just frustrated that someone with your potential is wasting it by being too soft.”

Yunho steps closer, his voice gentle. “It’s not that I’m soft, Y/N. It’s just… I don’t want to hurt people.”

“That’s exactly the problem, Yunho! In our world, hesitation like that will get you killed. Do you think curses will show you mercy? Do you think they’ll hesitate to kill you? No. They’ll take every opportunity they get.”

He flinches at your words but doesn’t back down. “I know that, but—”

“Then why?” you interrupt, your voice rising. “Why do you keep holding back?”

Yunho stares at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words. “Because I don’t want to lose myself in the process,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to become someone who only sees enemies, not people. I’ve seen what happens when you become consumed by the need to fight. You start seeing everyone as a threat, even those you’re supposed to protect.”

You’re taken aback, the harshness in your tone fading. “And you think being soft will make a difference?”

Yunho’s gaze softens. “Not soft. Just… compassionate. I believe there’s a way to defend without losing who you are. I want to be strong enough to fight, but also to remain someone who cares about the people I’m protecting.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat. His sincerity hits you harder than you expected. In your battle-scarred world, you’d grown accustomed to seeing only the harsh truths, forgetting the power of empathy.

Yunho takes another step closer, closing the distance between you. “I know you’re only trying to help me, Y/N. But I need to find my own way. Please… just give me a chance.”

You feel the weight of his words settle in, and though you want to argue, you can’t ignore the sincerity in his voice. You let out a sigh, the anger slowly ebbing away, replaced by a reluctant understanding.

Before you can respond, you lose your balance as you shift your weight, perhaps due to the tension in the air, and you stumble forward. Yunho reacts quickly, catching you by the arm. But the sudden movement causes you both to lose your balance, and you end up pressed against him, your faces inches apart.

The hallway is silent except for your rapid breaths. The proximity is overwhelming, and you’re hyper-aware of how close you are to him. Yunho’s grip on your arm is firm but gentle, his expression filled with concern and something else you can’t quite place.

Before either of you can move, a voice cuts through the tension.

"How heartwarming to see such earnest affection!" Gojo’s voice rings out, startling you both. He stands a few feet away, hands clasped together and tucked beneath his cheek, a teasing grin on his face as if he’s watching the most heartwarming scene.

You snap your head toward him, sending him a glare that could freeze over hell itself.

“Sensei,” you growl, barely containing your irritation.

Yunho quickly steps back, releasing you, his face flushing with embarrassment. “It’s not what it looks like, Sensei…”

Gojo waves his hand dismissively, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Sure, sure. Just don’t stay up too late, lovebirds. You need your rest. I'm bound to Miyagi for a mission sent by the higher-ups for a couple of days, so take good care of yourselves, 'kay?"

But before he could fully leave, Gojo makes sure to turn his back one more time and say, "Oh, and no funny business in the dorms!"

"You—"

With that, he turns and saunters off, leaving you standing there, cut off and fuming, while Yunho tries to hide his awkwardness.

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. “That man is impossible.”

Yunho chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… but he’s not wrong, you know.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “About what?”

“About you caring,” he says softly. “Even if you don’t want to admit it.”

For a moment, you consider snapping back, denying it, but something in his expression stops you. Instead, you just shake your head and start walking away, though your steps are less hurried, less tense.

“Just… don’t hold back too much, okay?” you mutter, your voice barely a whisper. You hesitate for a moment, then turn to face him with sudden urgency.

“Always take care of yourself first before helping others. It’s the only way you can truly be there for them. If you get hurt or worse, I swear I’ll—” Your voice cracks, and you quickly blink away your tears. “—I’ll make you regret it, you hear me?!” You turn abruptly, rushing into your room to shield yourself from the flood of emotions that follow.

Yunho smiles, watching you go. “I won’t, Y/N. I promise.”

Yunho lies in his bed, the dim light from his desk lamp casting long shadows across his room. His thoughts drift to the intense training session from earlier, recalling your frustration and your harsh words about his gentleness during combat. He replays the moment you told him to fight harder, to be more like a true sorcerer, and not let his compassion become his weakness.

He wanted to tell you how he struggles to balance his kindness with the harsh realities of their world. The brief reconciliation was a small comfort, a fleeting moment of understanding, but now, as he lies in the quiet of his dorm room, he dwells on these emotions. The night’s eerie calm contrasts sharply with the chaos of the day. He closes his eyes, trying to push away thoughts of the recent sparring match with you, and remembers the softness in your eyes and the warmth of your smile.

Tomorrow is a new day, and he will try again—try harder to be true to himself while also becoming the formidable sorcerer he aspires to be.

Just as he begins to drift into uneasy sleep, however, a loud explosion shakes the dormitory. The walls tremble, and the sound of shattering glass fills the air. Yunho bolts upright, his heart racing as the serene night turns into a nightmare.

He scrambles out of bed, quickly dressing and grabbing his weapon. The familiar hallways are now a maze of panic and destruction. Students run past him, their faces pale with fear. Curses, their twisted forms wreaking havoc, have invaded the campus.

Yunho’s hands shake as he runs through the corridors, his fear and anxiety threatening to overwhelm him. He had promised himself he would fight, but the sight of his friends and fellow students battling for their lives makes his resolve falter. The magnitude of the chaos makes him question his own strength and purpose.

As he approaches the main courtyard, he is met with utter devastation. Curses of all shapes and sizes assault the grounds, their malevolent energy crackling through the air.

The hardest part is Gojo’s absence. The meticulously planned attack leaves you and the others to fend for yourselves in the meantime.

Determined to overcome his fear, Yunho takes a deep breath and plunges into the fray. His strikes are initially hesitant but grow more confident as he fights alongside his comrades. His actions, though shaky at first, are driven by his resolve to protect those he cares about.

Despite his bravery, Yunho is unprepared for the battle’s intensity. He fights valiantly, saving several students from falling curses and pushing back against the dark forces. As he fights, his attention is drawn to you again, seeing you engage a particularly fierce curse with unwavering focus.

Unbeknownst to you, a smaller, insidious curse sneaks up behind you. Yunho’s eyes widen in alarm. Without hesitation, he rushes toward you, driven by a fierce determination to protect.

“Y/N, look out!” Yunho shouts, his voice urgent. He intercepts the hidden curse, destroying it with a swift, powerful strike. The curse disintegrates, thanks to Yunho’s timely intervention.

Startled by his sudden appearance, you quickly refocus on your battle. Yunho continues fighting, driven by a sense of duty and a desire to prove himself. He pushes through his fear and hesitation, fighting with every ounce of strength he has.

As the battle rages on, Yunho’s strength wanes. His injuries, sustained from the relentless combat, become more pronounced. Despite his exhaustion, he presses on, his resolve unwavering. The fight turns in their favor, but his own condition deteriorates.

Finally, the curses are driven back, and the campus begins to settle. Yunho collapses to the ground, his body battered and bruised.

You rush to his side, your heart pounding with a mix of relief and concern. Yunho’s severe injuries bring tears to your eyes. His breathing is labored, showing the toll of his bravery.

“Yunho!” you cry, kneeling beside him. “Are you okay?”

Yunho’s eyes flutter open, and he looks up at you with a faint, pained smile. “I definitely need to work on my hand-to-hand combat," he murmurs playfully, "You'll— ah, help me, won't you?"

Despite his injuries, Yunho’s expression is one of relief. His sacrifice and bravery hits you hard, making you feel both grateful and heartbroken. As his eyes close, his last glimpse of you shows a look of relief, his eyes giving him away in an instant— everything he thought of, everything he felt— he had said at that one moment.

“He’s dead? Aw, I liked that brat…” Sukuna’s mocking tone drifts over as Yuuji and the others approach, his disdain evident.

“Sukuna, shut up!” Yuuji snaps, frustration boiling over. “You’ve got no right to make light of this!”

“No, he’s not dead…” Shoko’s steady voice cuts through the tension. “But it might take a while for him to recover.”

Nearby, the sounds of assessing damage and tending to the wounded fill the air. The reality of the night’s events is sobering, and Yunho’s bravery is clear. As you stay by his side, you know that the battle may have ended, but the emotional scars and lessons learned will linger long after the night is over.

You approach Yunho’s bedside with a heavy heart. 

It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself at his side, though it feels like a lifetime ago when you’d come to him for the mundane—discussions about training, messages from Gojo, or dinner orders with Nobara when she would gather everyone’s orders for takeout— you’d come to him for times you couldn’t quite count.

But now, it’s different. You’ve spent countless hours watching over him, praying for any sign that he’s still with you. The days blur together, each one an eternity of worry. Your heart aches with the weight of your fears and hopes.

You gently take Yunho’s hand in yours, giving it a tender squeeze. The pulse you feel is faint, a fragile reminder of the life that still lingers. It’s not enough to ease the dread that tightens in your chest.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you let his hand remain entwined with yours. You lean in, resting your cheek against the upper left side of his chest, just above his heart. The rhythm of his heartbeat, weak but steady, brushes against your skin, offering a small, elusive comfort.

He’s still here. But it’s still not enough.

You’ve told him so many times that he shouldn’t do things just for you—that you’d never fully appreciate it, that his actions should be for himself. Yet, as he lies before you, his body motionless and frail, you find yourself swallowing every harsh word you’d ever spoken.

“Wake up… please…”

You want to tell him to awaken and live for himself—to seize every opportunity and experience every joy he’s ever dreamed of. But the words catch in your throat. You’re not one to be a hypocrite, but now, faced with the possibility of losing him, you yearn to tell him everything you’ve kept hidden.

You want him to wake up so you can finally express how much he means to you, how deeply you value everything he’s done for you.

“Wake up…” you whisper, your voice breaking. “For me, please…”

In the distance, Shoko looks at Gojo with a mix of admiration and concern. “You’ve raised quite a lady, Satoru. I’m impressed.”

“Well, I’d like to say ‘What can I say? I’m the Gojo Satoru after all,’” Gojo replies with a wry smile, “but that’d be a lie. While I provided for Y/N as best I could, she’s grown into a remarkable woman on her own.”

“After the battle,” Shoko continues, “she came to see me at the clinic. She knelt in front of me, pleading for me to do everything in my power to save Yunho. She said she would do anything for me if it meant using every bit of my abilities to heal him.”

“I was taken aback at first,” Shoko admits, “thinking, who does she think I am? But then I realized she was desperate, terrified of losing the one person who has wormed his way into her heart.”

Gojo watches as you quietly excuse yourself, slipping out of the room to find a more private space, likely to cry. The past few weeks have been tough, and it’s only now, in the solitude, that you fully grasp how much darker everything felt without Yunho’s light.

The faint hum of the heart monitor is the only sound that punctuates the silence, its rhythmic beeping offering a small comfort amidst the uncertainty. The others are gathered around his bed, their faces a mix of concern and quiet anticipation. They’ve been waiting, just like you, for any sign that he’s coming back to them.

Then, there’s a subtle shift. A slight twitch of his fingers, a flicker of his eyelids, and Yunho stirs. The collective breath everyone has been holding seems to release all at once, and the room is suddenly alive with movement.

“Yunho!” Nobara exclaims, her voice barely above a whisper but full of emotion.

Footsteps pad softly into the room, and soon, you stand at the threshold, watching the steady rise and fall of Yunho’s chest as he's gently greeted awake by the others.

You remain rooted to your spot for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you watch the others crowd around him. The relief is palpable, washing over you in waves, but there’s something else too—something deeper that makes it hard to move, to speak.

Yunho’s eyes flutter open, slowly adjusting to the dim light. His gaze, though still hazy, searches the room until it lands on you. You swallow hard, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you as you step forward.

When Yunho catches sight of you, his face softens even more. The others instinctively make way, and you find yourself beside his bed.

“Hey,” He greets, a bashful smile on his lips, "I'm so—"

Before he can continue, you cut him off. You reach up, pulling him close and pressing a soft, decisive kiss to his lips. The unexpected gesture silences him instantly, his breath hitching in surprise.

As the kiss lingers, the room fills with a chorus of jesting groans from everyone. They playfully tease, their comments filled with exaggerated disgust and mockery.

“Ugh, get a room, you two!” Yuuji teases.

Megumi just shakes his head, but even he can’t hide the small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Seriously, a bit of respect for us singles, please? Anybody?” Nobara rolls her eyes playfully.

“Ah!” Gojo exclaims exaggeratedly, “And there you were, denying anything about young love every time I preached.”

Despite the playful teasing, the moment between you and Yunho is tender and deeply intimate. Your kiss speaks volumes, conveying gratitude and affection in a way words could never capture.

You pull back slightly, both of you breathless, and see Yunho’s eyes shining with a mixture of love and relief. The overwhelming emotion of the past days seems to melt away in the warmth of his gaze.

As you sit by his side, you hold his hand tightly, feeling the warmth of his touch and the pulse of his heartbeat. The ordeal has left you both exhausted and emotionally drained, but the relief of having him awake and safe overshadows everything else.

What truly matters is that he’s here.

And with his presence, the sun seems to shine brighter once more.

Amid the rebuilding and healing, Yunho is finally regaining his usual energy.

He sits in his dorm room, surrounded by cheerful get-well-soon cards, an assortment of colorful fruit baskets, and the soft, comforting hum of healing spells administered by Shoko. His infectious laughter, once subdued by pain and fatigue, now fills the room, a reminder of his resilient spirit.

“Seriously, Yunho, how many fruit baskets did you get?” Yuuji laughs, playfully nudging Yunho’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’m not complaining!” Yunho grins, his eyes sparkling with his characteristic cheer. “I think I’ve got enough fruit here to start my own smoothie bar.”

Nobara, leaning against the doorway with a smirk, chimes in, “And here I thought you’d be more into strawberry milk than fruit baskets.”

Yunho’s grin widens. “You know me too well. But this is pretty sweet too.” He gestures to the piles of fruit. “Besides, you all deserve to see me back in action, right?”

Shoko, adjusting her healing spells, glances over with a soft smile. “You’re looking better, Yunho. Just try not to overdo it. We don’t need another round of healing.”

“I promise, no more crazy stunts,” Yunho assures her with a wink. “At least, not until I’m fully recovered.”

You watch from the doorway, feeling a mix of relief and something deeper tugging at your heart. The fight tested you in ways you hadn’t anticipated, revealing vulnerabilities you’d long kept hidden. Yunho’s reckless bravery and his refusal to let others down stir emotions within you that you’ve tried so hard to ignore.

“Hey,” Yunho calls out, catching your eye. “Come in and join us! You’re missing out on the fun.”

You hesitate, then step inside, feeling the warmth of his presence like a gentle embrace. As you move closer, Yunho’s cheerful energy wraps around you, lifting the heaviness you’ve been carrying.

“You’re looking a lot better,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual.

Yunho’s eyes soften, and he flashes you a bright smile. “Thanks to all these amazing people,” he says, his gaze briefly meeting yours. “And you, too.”

You’ve always thought you knew what love was—something practical, perhaps even utilitarian. But Yunho shows you a different side, one that is vibrant and full of warmth. He embodies everything you once thought you couldn’t tolerate: the unwavering optimism, the radiant smile, and the incessant cheerfulness.

As you watch him interact with the others, a warmth spreads through you, a sense of contentment you haven’t experienced before. In Yunho’s sunny presence, you discover a new understanding of love—one that is as powerful and transformative as the very sunlight he embodies.

In the gentle light of the morning sun, as Yunho’s laughter echoes through the hallways, you accept the truth with a serene smile. You love him not just despite his sunshine-like personality, but because of it. He has become a source of warmth and joy in your life, a reminder that even amidst the shadows, there can be light.

As Yunho reaches over to grab a fruit basket, he spots you and grins. “You know, I thought of something for you.” He pulls out a small, brightly wrapped package from one of the baskets. “A little something to brighten your day, just like you’ve brightened mine.”

You unwrap the package to find a small, hand-carved wooden sun. It is intricately detailed, its rays spreading out like a warm embrace.

“Thank you,” you say softly, touched by the gesture. “It’s perfect.”

Yunho’s smile widens, his eyes reflecting the same warmth as the sun.

As the days grow brighter and recovery continues, you find solace in the fact that you are no longer alone in the darkness. Yunho has, in his own unique way, brought you closer to the warmth and love you had been missing.

Hell, he should be practically everything you hate. 

But God, did you love him even more than the things you always loved.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: wow, it's been a year since i've posted HDBJABDH making up for lost time with this new fic i recently wrote after finally getting to rewatch jujutsu kaisen in my free time! i hope you guys enjoyed this one, especially my co-otaku-tinys out there! lmk what you guys think ♡

[marvelous-slut]

Revenge - Happy Lowman

No lie, Better than Revenge by Taylor Swift was the inspiration for this! Lmao. Hope you all enjoy xx

Being the sister of Jax Teller had some advantages, you got to spend lots of time at the club house. Lots of time talking up the scariest member or the MC, Happy Lowman. There was something about him that you couldn’t shake feelings for, you didn’t know if it was that he was mysterious and quiet, or that he’d kill at the drop of a hat. It gave you a strange feeling in your stomach thinking about having him as yours, how you’d never have to worry about anyone coming for you because they’d have to pay the price with him.

Those thoughts all were nice while they lasted.

You walked into the clubhouse, it’s early in the morning and you decided to bring breakfast by. Jax always complimented your cooking and once Happy tried it he did too. “Makes me think of my mommas.” He would say. You see Jax sitting on the bar stool, cigarette in hand.

“Hey sister.” He says, reaching out his hands to grab the platter. He knows what you’re about to ask and he doesn’t want to tell you what he knows.

“Hey, you seen Happy?” You ask, feeling that funny feeling turning in your stomach. He sighs, deciding he should say nothing instead of lying or telling the truth. You look at him puzzled, until you see who comes down the hall. Ima. She’s wearing Happy’s gray reaper shirt, smiling as she knows what she’s done. She can see the hurt all over your face. You and Ima haven’t gotten along since you told her she was a skank and to leave Jax and Tara alone. This was her way of giving you some pay back. She would come to the club with Lyla, seeing how you swooned over Happy. How the light shined in your eyes when you talked to him.

“Good morning!” She says, cheerful to see the pain she’s caused. Jax shakes his head and puts out his cigarette.

“Go get your shit and get the fuck out.” He says to her, you can’t stay here any longer. You dart out the door, ready to be home. Once you get to your car, you ponder for a moment. No, she will not get the best of you. If you knew how to do anything, it was how to get the last world. The last laugh. You grin, thinking of the perfect way to give her some pay back.

It is a bright and sunny day in Charming, a perfect day really. You head down to Luanns porn studio to extract your revenge on Ima. The brownies in your hands are still fresh, topped with a bow and a card you had Jax write out. It reads “for someone special.” No name mentioned, but you knew Ima would get a kick thinking a man had took time to bake for her. Really, you had done the baking, cracking eggs and measuring flour perfectly. Cutting up the chocolate laxatives so fine you would never be able to tell they were a special add in. You sit the brownies in-front of her door and knock, running off. It’s about an hour before she’s due to shoot, you know she’s going to eat one because as you’ve seen at the clubhouse she can’t resist chocolate sweets. Just like she couldn’t resist a man in a kutte, or a man who had an old lady. She’d be drawn to them like flies to shit.

The shoot begins, it’s your average porno shoot. Guy and girl, nothing special. Before Ima can move, you see the look on her face. You know the laxatives have hit her stomach, making it rumble. Before she can go anywhere, brown liquid run down her leg and so do the tears from her eyes. You smile, watching the chaos unfold. “Ew!” Her partner for todays shoot yells out, running away from the havoc her bowels have let out. She shouldn’t have fucked with your brother and his family, but she definitely shouldn’t have fucked with what was yours. Well, what you were trying to make yours. She’s screaming as she runs back to her room, hopefully she’ll be on the shitter for hours.

“My my, my sister is an evil genius.” You smile at Jax, patting him on the shoulder.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Jackson!” You smirk as you speak, smiling softly. He lets you read a message from Tara.

“So proud of her. Getting some revenge for the both of us.” It reads. You smile, you were glad to give Ima a small form of payback. Gemma and Tara shooting up her car obviously didn’t send the message to her, and maybe this wouldn’t either but you felt better. You feel your stomach sink as you see Happy approach you. You want to run away, but you stand as still as a statue. He walks over to you, standing in-front of you, unsure if he was angry or somewhat amused.

“That you?” He asks, word travels fast at the club house. Especially when Tig sees some drama unfold. You assumed he had let Happy know about your tears and running out when you saw Ima in Happys shirt.

“Guess she has a bad stomach.” You say, he smirks, putting his arm around you.

“You know, all you had to do was say you wanted to be my old lady.” You perk up, looking at him with a smile plastered all over your face. “I don’t show emotions good, don’t read them well either.” After Tig informed Happy of the morning incident, he knew why you were so upset. It had to be because you had feelings for him that you hadn’t expressed. “Come on girl, let’s go back to the club house, smells like shit in here.” You giggle, walking along side of him with his arm reach over your shoulder.

“Oh God! Come on people, it’s a bodily function!” Luann yells out, trying to get her actors and actress under control.

“Yeah, but my bodily function ain’t ever come out like that!” Bobby shouts out as the MC chuckles behind him.

Revenge. It’s a sweet, sweet thing.