#THE DISAPPOINTMENT NEVER REALLY STOPS DOES IT

[petit-naldo]

JEALOUSY

Charles had never experienced jealousy. When you were Charles Leclerc, there were very few things you had a reason to be jealous of. Don’t get me wrong, he had his fair share of tragedies. But when it came to petty jealousy, he was kind of immune.

He had the prettiest girls, the best clothes, the best cars, the best team.

He had the prettiest girls, the best clothes, the best cars, the best team.

So it takes him a moment to realize what that burning feeling in his chest stands for.

It happens, for example, when Carlos is holding Lando's hand AND looking at him for what feels like an eternity in the hallway before the sprint. And this strange feeling makes him uncomfortable and angry, so he tries to intervene. And he does it in the stupidest way possible.

He puts his hand on their handshake. Because he's getting angrier by the second.

He just wants them to stop touching.

Of course, there are cameras capturing his stupid move.

He doesn't really know why he did it.

 He's known for a very long time that Carlos and Lando are really good friends, it never bothered him more than that. But lately they seemed to have some kind of renewed spark, giggling and hugging on the podium.

Even though Carlos said they're his two favorite teammates.

It still bothers him.

 Yeah, right. It's the fourth year, Carlos, and we've been laughing every damn day, why can't you say I'm your favorite teammate?

Maybe something changed last week in Monaco. In fact, if Charles is honest with himself, he knows exactly what ignited a little fireball in his belly. It was right after the Monte Carlo Masters final. He was talking to George and Carmen in the VIP hospitality area. George was a good friend of Lando's. Of course, because Lando was so charming. Lando sitting with a pretty blonde across the court. And George, always the first with gossip, smiled and raised his eyebrows.

"So, he’s back to girls...," Carmen laughs as if she perfectly understands what it means. And Charles frowns.

"What do you mean?"

"You know," answers George, moving his face in a suggestive way.

"Mmh, ah yeah," answers Charles, who really DOESN’T know but can’t really imagine anything besides one thing. Is Lando bi ?

He can’t keep this idea out of his head. So one night in Shanghai, while he and Carlos are sat on boxes outside the Ferrari garage, softly chit-chatting and the dusk is wrapping them in blue and purple and the frogs are starting to wake up, he tries to bring up the subject as casually as he can.

He first pushes the direction of the conversation towards the tournament.

"Weren’t you a bit disappointed? I think the semi-finals were more interesting matches."

Carlos answers and says it’s okay, but what he’d really like to do is go to Roland Garros. Watch Nadal's final game. Shit. Charles prompts again, redirecting.

"Were you with Lando?"

"No, he was with a girl." Jackpooot. He switches with what he hopes is the most casual tone he could adopt.

"Oh yeah, it’s true... by the way, ahah, George told me he was surprised because… well, he said Lando used to… date boys."

"Ah, George, such a nosy bitch," Carlos says, looking at his phone without bothering to respond any further.

Charles bites his lip. He wants his answer. He NEEDS his answer to ease the ball of fire he feels growing in his chest. Charles doesn’t know how to be subtle.

"So, Lando is bi?" he blushes because really, it’s nowhere near subtle.

"Why do you care?" asks Carlos, suddenly looking at him intensely.

Charles falters, luckily, the night is fully set upon them because his face might be close to crimson, and he blurts out the first excuse he can think of.

"A gay friend of mine has a crush on him."

He never panicked so hard, it’s weird, he’s usually a chill dude. But his heart is at the edge of his lips. A wave of heat floods him, and his breath shortens.

"Who?" Carlos asks, frowning. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"You don’t know him. From Monaco." He clings to this thread. Fortunately, his overheated mind found this excuse because Charles has no friends who know Lando and that Carlos doesn’t know, and if Carlos had realized that, it would have made the rest of the conversation very uncomfortable.

Luckily, after what feels like suffocating seconds, Carlos lets it go with a grunt and shakes his shoulders.

"Yeah, he is… well, if you consider showing up with a girl once every blue moon, being bi."

SO LANDO IS GAY???

He feels that sting, that crazy sting clouding his mind, making him act like a foolish fool and he watches himself open his mouth again to utter, "Oh...I didn’t know, if you knew."

"Ha…," scoffs Carlos, shaking his head, letting his eyes gaze into the faraway... "oh believe me, I know."

Charles knows he should shut the fuck up. But he can't because this sentence alone and the tone with which Carlos said it, stir up a thousand more questions. He should leave before it's too late. He’s already asked too much.

He isn’t close enough with Lando to keep pushing, for his curiosity to make sense.

But nonetheless he asks.

"How did you find out?"

"Mmh… " Carlos looks at him a bit surprised by his questions. Usually Charles isn't the kind to ask personal questions. "I’m not really comfortable sharing his personal stuff, Charles."

The "Charles" should be his cue to fucking stop pushing. Because Carlos said it in a way that doesn’t offer contradiction.

But he is stupid. He is the most stupid man to ever exist. So he fakes a laugh.

"Come on, Cahrlos, tell me, I’m your favorite teammate " He tries to be playful, but he so desperately needs to know that it must be really obvious in his tone. He feels cringe and shameful and immature and he wants to burry himself into the ground.

But he also wants the answer.

"Why," laughs Carlos, "your friend wants to know?"

And Charles backs down. He isn't brave enough.

"You’re right, I shouldn’t gossip like that, damn George really rubs off on me."

They keep chatting about tennis. He tries to focus on Carlos deep voice to avoid getting lost on thoughts about Lando.

But that night, as he lies in bed, the overthinking starts.

He keeps replaying the conversation, trying to extract from it every bit of info he can.

"Oh yes, believe me I know" - why this tone, why this almost tragic tone, melancholic.

Ideas start to swirl.

Did Carlos stumble upon Lando being with a boy? Did Lando make a move on Carlos? Did Carlos make a move on him? Could Carlos have done something with… no, no, no, Charles, come back to your senses.

He lies awake.

The little ball of fire starts swelling in his chest at the thought of Lando being near Carlos.

But that’s stupid.

Because Carlos is straight.

And Carlos is only friend with Lando.

He is.

Is he?

Isn’t it weird though how close and touchy they are?

Well, Carlos is a touchy guy.

But especially with Lando.

And him.

No, but it’s not the same.

Charles is straight.

Maybe after an exhausting sim session back when they were teammates he and Lando could have…

NO !

Carlos is straight.

S t r a i g h t.

But maybe he tried.

Or maybe one day he will.

Lando is not ugly.

Not as pretty as Charles, but…

Charles shakes his head.

C’mon, is he really judging other drivers’ looks now?

But then, the weekend happens and he notices Carlos staying glued to Teto.

And Carlos makes a joke about Teto being his WAG on Instagram.

Carlos is way too comfortable with every other boy around.

Charles tries to reassures himself about what ? he doesn't know.

He says to himself that it’s okay.

Because there is no one else’s waist Carlos puts his hand on while he walks.

And it was a real close hug during the shell event. No ?

What?

Jesus Christ, Charles, get your shit together. He’d really like to take some time to acknowledge what the fuck is going on inside his mind. What are his feelings for Carlos, does he really have a crush on him. That would be a very bad idea. And he is straight. As Carlos. Supposedly.

Anyway, he can’t because 90% of his brain is focused on the race and the ten other % are literally occupied by… okay, he wanted to call that rage ? But it’s that burning itch making him want to punch every man too close to Carlos. Making him want to act like an imbecile just so Carlos would look at him.

It takes up too much space in his mind to let anything else in. He scooches alongside the Spaniard anytime he can. He develops weird strategies to be sure he’s next to him during the parade.

He keeps an eye on Lando at all times. He scrolls down Teto’s Instagram and re-watches the Don’t Blink on YouTube. Clenching his teeth at the winter one. Carlos lifting him like that, like a feather.

Teto acting exactly like a wag, getting along with Sainz Sr, sitting near Carlos in restaurants,

Teto, who is actually very pretty. Shiny golden hair. Big eyes.

When Charles sees him leaning against a railing above one of the numerous ponds of the Shanghai paddock, he has the urge to throw him overboard.

Maybe a crocodile could eat him. Are there crocodiles in Shanghai ?

That way, he would never again hold Carlos’s shoulder while laughing.

Then the weekend is over.

He looks through the window of the plane. Today he flies back to Monaco. He has been a nightmare to deal with, yelling at everybody. He feels restless and irritated.

Yet the weekend has been good. Everything ran smoothly. Carlos had even congratulated him for the third place, gave him a hug. But after, at the corner of his eyes, he had seen him hugging Lando, holding him by the neck. Diving into one of their secret conversations.

And just a few hours later. He had heard they were flying back together on the same plane.

TOWARDS MONACO.

He goes to Monaco too!!! He is Monegasque! Why can’t Carlos ask him to fly with HIM? Why Lando? Always Lando! Insufferable, childish, giggly, never-won-a-race Lando!

HE is il predestinato, HE is Ferrari’s sacred child! He is nice, and every girl are at his feet.

He slides a hand over his face. He feels like he's going crazy. What is this fury burning in his chest for days?

But he doesn’t need to think about it for long.

It’s pretty obvious.

It is well…

Jealousy.

[cjir]

CLASS1A HEADCANONS

(spoiler warning for S7/the manga! Hc's are in seating order. Post is long lol)

Aoyama

Didn't even want to be a hero once he got his quirk. it was just something he mentioned like 3 times when he was 5.

Does not like his parents at all

Comfort eater. He is stressed out of his mind

Considers midoriya his best friend

Grew up extremely pampered

Will just make up stories from when he lived in france

"really?? Did that happen??" "No."

Mina

Adopted, parents passed a few years ago after a building collapsed

The day she learns about aroace identities is the day she heals

She didn't know anything about kirishima besides his name by the time they started ua so she hunted down his old friends to learn about him. Unsurprisingly they didn't know all that much

She's the one who kills/removes the bugs from the dorms

Shes relatively popular on social media

Asui

Has firmly decided against kids. She loves her siblings but god no she is NEVER raising a child again

Enjoys baking, she does it with Sato often

Swears the most in 1a

Horrible posture, Iida is constantly trying to fix it

Iida

Fear of failure

Had like. No childhood. Tensei tried but he just wouldn't watch many movies unless he could be tricked into believing it would help his future

Very anxious kid

He genuinely really wants to connect and relate to his classmates but he struggles with it. Part of him wishes he could've just had normal teenage experiences

Terrible at making jokes. He tries so hard but they never land. He got todoroki and no one else to laugh once and he is still reeling from it

Ochako

Post-war she thinks about Toga like. Every day. She never stops grieving that girl

She becomes determined to reach out and save as many people as humanly possible

Later in life she ends up fostering kids with “difficult” and “villainous” quirks and encourages them to pursue their dreams

She adores animals. Her favourite place growing up was the pet store

She feels a bit guilty about having to move to the dorms. She felt obligated to help out her parents around the house

Gym rat. All about proteins and gains. She is determined to get a six pack at some point. Though she does struggle to gain muscle.

Ojiro

Throws the hardest punches. He has broken several of his classmates' noses accidentally

Has to constantly hear about hagakure's ex’s and he hates all of them

Enjoys embroidery and knitting. Eventually learns to make clothes. He gives them as gifts and sells some for extra money

Lots of awards from tournaments

He was raised in a cult but hasn't exactly realised yet, he will talk about the most insane things and act like theyre regular parts of growing up. He lives with his grandparents now

Eventually finds out he is really good with throwing knives

insanely oblivious. Sex jokes fly right over his head (they have to be explained to him) and he can never tell when he's being hit on

Denki

His mum is a pro hero and his dad is in jail. They both love him dearly, despite the fact that he was a complete accident

Was home alone very often. His mum travels a lot for work. He can have friends stay over for weeks at a time without her ever finding out

His dad was the one who taught him how to hotwire cars

Out of everyone in 1a, he has the most dating experience. He dated like half his middle school class and they all ended on good terms. Was a lot of people's gay awakening

The lightning bolt is natural, shockingly enough. No one believes him until he pulls out pictures from when he was a baby

He was born with a full head of hair actually

Sometimes helium balloons will just float at him

Kirishima

Absolutely tank, can take anything

This also applies to food. He can eat inedible things and be completely fine.

Was huge into DND in middle school. Wants to set up a game for 1a but has only convinced tokoyami and midoriya so far

Was really disappointed when his quirk manifested

Koda

Insomnia

He was bullied throughout middle school and sometimes still expects his classmates to be cruel to him

Lived with his mother and grandma. His father died when he was young

He was ecstatic when his quirk manifested. He had several pets as a kid and would try and communicate with them

Once unintentionally managed to get wolves to help him fight in a 1v1 (he was fighting sero who damn near passed out from fear)

Allergic to cat hair but he refuses to let that stop him

Present mic will not look at him the same after the bug incident

Sato

Stress bakes like crazy. Sometimes all of 1a will wake up to a cupcake outside their door that he made at like 4am

He is the only one who likes his hero costume, everyone else thinks it's lame

Has 4 siblings. He's dead in the middle age wise

His family is dramatic as hell. They get into the pettiest arguments ever and then don't talk for a month. He ended up having to play peacekeeper pretty frequently

Moving to the dorms was a well needed break for him

His hair is dyed. He's naturally ginger. He has not told a soul

Shoji

Covered head to toe in scars. Denki made the mistake of asking about it once, and the boys were greeted with the most horrifying story they had ever heard while changing into their hero costumes

Has been in mandatory therapy for years

He really enjoys being the tallest. He will sometimes hold things over his head just to tease tokoyami

When his quirk manifested he was scared shitless

Lived in an orphanage and is currently in custody of UA

His parents go on to have more kids after him and he never learns about them. He did always want siblings

Jirou

Has special little ear muffs for her jack's.

Her hair was done in the bathroom at 3am the day of the entrance exam

The heartbeat in her hair is only visible in the light

While she's great at picking up instruments, she cannot draw to save her life. It's like the only thing kaminari is better than her at

Sero

His hair grows like that naturally. He figures his ends are supposed to look like tape dispenser teeth as some joke from the universe. Got tired of trying to fix it and now just lets it grow out

He has been using his quirk to do parkour since he was 9. He used to terrify his parents with the stunts he would pull

He has an older sister in collage

Tokoyami

Extremely religious parents. They got him an exorcism once, just to be sure.

Him + dark shadow fight like siblings

He'd get really quiet when he was upset while ds would start shrieking

Becoming a hero was dark shadows idea

He speaks like that cuz he read gothic poetry he found around the house as a kid

He is a complete mutation. No one in his family has a quirk even remotely similar to dark shadow or has a bird head

Dark shadow used to be way more abstract but took the bird form more permanently after tokoyami got more of a handle on it.

Tokoyami is on record of having an extremely unstable quirk.

He always felt the need to suppress his emotions to control his quirk but it backfired spectacularly. He's healthier about it now

Also, dark shadow is fully sentient. A bit behind developmentally, and struggles to comprehend things, but shockingly sentient

He has a really hard time putting on weight. Like all his bones are visible

Todoroki

allergic to onions. He eats them anyways

He dispises his father with his whole chest sometimes but he also wants to give him a chance because he's his father, yk?

He bases a lot of his opinions on what he thinks he is supposed to feel. Like he doesn't mind pineapple on pizza but since everyone else online thinks it's the worst thing ever I guess he does too¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

He's not completely blind in his left eye, but his vision is cloudy and really poor

Hagakure

Desperately wants to find “the one”. She used to date whoever she could just to try and find the love of her life. It lead to a lot of dumb drama and bad middle school relationships

She's great at makeup, but doesn't wear it outside of her room because it used to freak people out

While she gets upset about her quirk sometimes, she does love being able to sneak around unseen

Whenever someone's door opens they instinctively tell Hagakure to get out, even if it was just the wind

Comes from a relatively wealthy family

She needs glasses but won't wear them

Bakugo

he thinks his friends are the funniest people on earth but he will DIE before he ever tells them that or actually laughs at their jokes

Legitimately bit Monoma once and he was so confused

Used to model for his parents' businesses. Midoriya has pictures on hand in UA now that he realises people will actually make fun of bakugo instead of worshipping the ground he walks on

Comically long skincare and hair routine

UA has humbled him HARD

Actually has a very good relationship with his parents. They were very encouraging. To a fault, but still.

Midoriya

Had a diary in middle school where he would write about the ways he would violently torture his bullys

He finds it again in like 2nd year and he cringes so hard. Unfortunately Bakugo also reads the diary and gets freaked out

Midoriya will listen to whatevers being said with 100% of his attention so whoever he's talking to doesn't feel ignored. The exception his whenever he's daydreaming about the plot and exposition dumping to the audience

Some time in 2nd year, he starts intentionally pissing bakugou off because he can get away with it now

His school record makes it seem like he's a complete delinquent and Azaiwa was a little surprised when he actually met him

When the war ends he gets clowned on ferociously for that bald spot. Omg the poor guy is so embarrassed

Momo

Everyone loves her but LORD is she out of touch sometimes. Has no understanding of how much things actually cost and how affordable they actually are

She styles her hair to be spikey. She wanted to seem cool and rough around the edges when she joined ua. It didn't work

Crazy anxiety. She spends a lot of time with Koda and his rabbit.

Her parents launder money and haven't been caught yet. She has no idea

Bonus:

Shoji and Todoroki bond over childhood trauma

Everyone is convinced Jirou, Denki and Momo are gonna become a throuple at some point. Bets have been placed about when

Bakugou does genuinely consider denki his friend

Quirkless training usually comes down to ojiro and Bakugou, tho Midoriya has won once or twice

Dark shadow is deemed a complete menace and genuinely has beef with some of 1a (Bakugo, Iida, ect.) but for some reason, dark shadow and Sato in particular have become sworn enemies

Ochako and Kirishima asked Ojiro to teach them martial arts and they have never seen him more excited

Tokoyami, Todoroki and Bakugo are COVERED in burn scars post war

Everyone assumes Hagakure and Ojiro are dating but they surprisingly aren't (yet))

Class1a occasionally binges shows together. They usually get super attached to a character who reminds them of someone in 1a and then get really sad whenever something bad happens to that character

[green-eyedfirework]

It starts on a windswept evening in Bludhaven.  Dick is running across rooftops, breath caught in his throat and wind roaring past his ears, using every trick in the book to remain one step ahead of his pursuer.  The sound of sirens shriek in the distance, evidence of the police presence Dick managed to attract.  Somewhere amidst the cacophony is a crooked mob accountant being placed into police—and, hopefully, protective—custody.

He did just almost get assassinated, after all.

Dick doesn’t stutter, doesn’t falter, doesn’t fall, but it doesn’t matter.  He’s not fast enough.  On the next rooftop, a steel grip latches onto his shoulder and hauls him back—before Dick can raise his escrima for an attack he’s slammed against the brick of the rooftop access door hard enough to squeeze the breath from his lungs.

By the time he blinks the dark spots free, his escrima are gone, his wrists are above his head and squeezed in an inescapable grip, and there’s a gloved hand wrapping around his throat and pushing his head up to stare directly at the orange-and-black mask of his pursuer.

Dick grins.

“You’re too clever for your own good, little bird,” Deathstroke growls, and they’re inches apart, close enough that Deathstroke’s gun holster is digging against Dick’s stomach in a way that makes him want to shiver.

“Really?” Dick asks, testing how much space he has to move.  Deathstroke doesn’t budge an inch.  Dick’s mouth feels very dry.  “I think I’m just clever enough.”

“No,” Deathstroke disagrees.  His thumb rests on the underside of Dick’s jaw.  “Because then you would’ve realized that getting rid of my target meant that there would be no one left.  Except you.”

Something sinks inside of him, deeper than his stomach, a flash Dick almost doesn’t recognize.  But he’s not paying attention to it, because there is a mercenary pinning him to a wall in a grip he can’t squirm out of, and charm is just another tool in his arsenal.

“Oh?” Dick asks, voice sly.  “What’re you going to do about it?”

Deathstroke makes a low, inarticulate sound, and the hand around Dick’s throat leaves to instead pull the man’s mask off.  The mercenary looks incandescent, eye narrowed and roiling, expression twisted into a snarl, and Dick doesn’t have any time to react before a fist twists in his hair and holds him still for the mouth that plunders his.

Dick makes a shocked sound and Deathstroke swallows it, taking like Dick is just a limp ragdoll to be used as he pleases, and this time Dick definitely registers the warmth of arousal.  He can’t move—the fingers in his hair tighten to the point of pain to force him on his tiptoes, the hand holding his wrists feels like it could crush his bones, and Deathstroke has caged him so effectively that Dick can’t even try to dash himself against the bars.

The fire inside of him grows.

It’s not the first time they’ve kissed, it’s just.  It’s never felt like this before.

Dick makes the smallest of whimpers as Deathstroke shifts, the weight pressing against him something his body classifies as extremely hot, but the mercenary moves back and not forward, disengaging the kiss.

“Why did you stop?” Dick pants, peering up at Slade’s faint frown.  The fingers in his hair have loosened as well.

“You sounded hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Dick says, aware that he’s already half-hard and his cup is getting quite painful.  He pouts at Slade.  “Can we get back to the kissing?”

Slade makes an irritated noise and lets go, stepping back for good measure, and a part of Dick cries in disappointment.  “And give you more incentive to try this shit again?” the mercenary huffs.  “No.  Get lost, kid.  If I see you again, I’ll shoot you.”

“Mm-hmm.”  Dick darts forward and braces himself against Slade’s broad shoulders to get a quick peck.  Slade grumbles but doesn’t try to stop him.  “Sure you don’t want to come to my place for a consolatory drink?”

Slade looks unimpressed.  “Does that line actually work?”

Dick smiles up at him, still leaning against the mercenary’s solid bulk.  “I don’t know,” he says, low and languid, “you tell me.”

Slade���s eye darkens and Dick laughs as he’s pulled in for another dizzying kiss.

~#~

The encounter is as satisfying as ever, Slade is an attentive lover, and Dick curls up, sated and spent, in the mercenary’s warm arms when he’s done.

But.

It didn’t feel the same.

It didn’t feel like it did on the rooftop, exhilarating, electricity with a thread of danger, and Dick isn’t sure why.

He’s got a taste of it, and he wants more.

~#~

The next time is months later—this time, Slade’s playing security not assassin, and unfortunately for him, Dick may have accidentally kinda sorta exploded the collection of chemicals that he was supposed to be guarding.

“Sorry?” Dick tries, escrima already out as he faces Deathstroke across the catwalk.  The nearest perch is too far to reach and Deathstroke is advancing, a solid line of threat.

“Sorry?” Deathstroke echoes, and he’s unsheathed his sword.  “Sorry?”  Dick jumps back before it bisects him in two, and oops, looks like he’s really pissed Slade off this time.  “Is sorry going to put half a million dollars in my bank account?”

“Half a million dollars?” Dick says, momentarily distracted.  “I didn’t know they had that kind of cash.”  He ducks the swing of the sword and jabs up with the escrima and curses when all Slade does is shudder.  “You sure they could’ve paid you in the first place?”

Dick’s too close—too close for Deathstroke to swing that overcompensation he calls a sword, but also too close for Dick to dodge Slade’s retaliatory swipe.  It sends him crashing into the catwalk railing, stunned and breathless, and before he can get back up, his escrima are yanked from his grip and tossed to the floor below.

Slade’s in his personal space now, and fighting hand-to-hand against Deathstroke is never anything but a losing game.  Dick loses fast and hard, ending up bent over the railing, metal digging into his hipbones, hands twisted behind his back.

“You cost me a paycheck, kid,” Deathstroke growls.  Dick is shoved further over the railing, hanging in the void a solid thirty feet above the warehouse floor, and the only thing keeping him from falling is Deathstroke’s grip.

Dick swallows against the vertigo, faintly dizzy, heart beating fast and throat tight.  “I’ll make it up to you,” he manages, breathy from adrenaline and not by choice.

Deathstroke presses closer, until Dick can feel his weight layering on top of him, the precarious angle doing something to Dick’s head.  “Yes,” Slade says, low and dark and dangerous, “you will.”

Dick’s blood rushes south so fast he gets dizzy.  He’s suspended thirty feet off the ground, the warehouse is in chaos below them, Slade’s a heavy, present threat against his ass, and all Dick can think is no, not here, he wouldn’t.  He makes a sound closer to a whimper than he’d like.

The world spins inhumanely fast and when Dick can see again, vision blurry and breaths too fast, he’s standing on the catwalk.  Slade’s hands are on his shoulders.  “You okay?” the mercenary asks, voice gruffer and gentler than it had been a minute ago.

“‘M fine,” Dick says automatically.  “Just—got a little dizzy.”  No—that wasn’t what—Dick doesn’t know what did happen, only that he feels strangely off-kilter and Slade’s hovering isn’t helping.

Slade stays silent for a beat too long, clearly not buying it, his grip firm on Dick as he looks over the catwalk.

Dick is breathing hard—and abruptly aware that a certain part of him is aching.  He presses himself closer to Slade and breathes out, “You wanna take this somewhere more private?”

Slade keeps him at arm’s length and flicks his forehead.  “Fuck off, kid.  I need to go shake someone down for what money they will give me.  Get your ass out of here before you blow up something else.”

“Technically the explosion wasn’t my fault!” Dick calls after the retreating mercenary.  He feels like sulking and he doesn’t even know why.

~#~

He gets himself off when he gets home, once, twice, and a painful thrice.  He still feels unsatisfied.  Dick growls and does his best to block out the memory of Slade’s dark threat reverberating in his ears.

~#~

It can’t be the heights.  They’ve fucked on rooftops before, though admittedly never quite so close to the edge.  It can’t be the threat of being seen, there was once when they almost were caught and the situation had been more boner-killing than arousing.

It can’t be the roughness, Slade is plenty rough during sex and Dick has never felt like that.  That thrill that goes deep into his toes, like adrenaline pricking at every part of him, like Dick is freefalling without a net, half terrified and half excited and all gleeful—

Oh.

Oh.

Dick runs the situations back over in his head—Slade, forcing that kiss, and Dick pinned in place unable to fight it, and then Slade holding him down and insinuating what he wants while Dick hung helpless…

It’s the danger he wants.  The thrill and the fear.  Taking the world’s deadliest mercenary to bed isn’t enough, not when there’s a part of him that knows that if Slade truly wanted to ruin him, Dick wouldn’t be able to stop him.

The thought should not be making him hard.  It is.

Dick imagines the warehouse again.  Imagines Slade bending him over the railing, threatening to drop him, ripping the back of his suit open.  Imagines Slade shoving into him, hard and rough, with no thought or care for Dick’s pleasure.  Imagines his inability to move as Slade fucks him, cries ringing out, begging Slade to stop, please, while the mercenary just laughs—

Dick comes so hard his vision goes white.

He returns to himself, panting hard, staring up at the ceiling, hand wet and sticky.  Well.  That was his answer.

Fuck.

~#~

For a half-second Dick imagines trying to bring this up with Slade before violently shutting that thought down.  Nope.  He has no wish to see Slade’s reaction to that.

~#~

Even if labeling his desire has made him all the more desperate.

~#~ Even if Dick really really wants it.

[littlefankingdom]

~ Batgirl (2000)

They are sad and disappointed in themselves and they should be. What they did is not justice.

So, I'm mad about this issue, like really mad for personal reasons I will explain later. For context: a young girl has been kidnapped by a thief who escaped jail. It's not the first time said thief kidnapps this girl. This young girl, around 10 years old, is an artist and her mother exploits her, making money by selling her daughter's art. They are rich. This woman doesn't love her daughter, she loves the money she is making from her daughter. The man that keeps kidnapping this young girl? Her father. Her father that loves and cares for her, that turned to crime to take care of his daughter, and refuses to sell any art she makes because she made it for him, because she loves her father. And she pleads, she pleads Batgirl to let her with her father and not bring her back to her mother who doesn't love her, she pleads her to not put her father in jail. And what do Batgirl does? She stops the father, gives him to the cops and brings back the girl to her mother. On those panels, they are looking at a sad child with her abuser they brought her back to.

My mother doesn't love me. She will say she does to others, but it's not true and it has been the case for a long time, since I was very young. I wasn’t unwanted, I was just not what she wanted. My life was supposed to be centered, until my death, around taking care of my mother (she is not disabled or anything, she just wants people to do everything for her). Raised to make money I would gift to my mother, so she could have luxuries, but I was not successful in that. I grew up pleading for love, pleading for people to listen to my pain. Nobody did. I learnt that people prefer the comfort and peace of their lives over helping others. I learnt to distrust authority figures (teachers, doctors, any adults/people at least 5 years older than me in general), because either they were power hungry assholes who abuse kids, either they preferred to look away, who would tell me to be nice and listen to my mother. It's too much problem to help children. In the end, I could count on nobody but myself to get out. I can count on nobody but myself. I hate the system, and I promised myself I would never be like those who look away, I will defend any child that needs it.

So, to read a story where a little girl pleads a HERO to not bring them back to their abuser, only for said HERO to still bring her back to her abuser, to tell her to be nice and stay with her awful parent... I am furious. This issue is literally telling me that, if heroes existed, the heroes you adore since you are a child, they would not have saved you. They would have bring you back to your mother and told you to be nice, like everyone else. They would have let you go through those years of pain. Heroes would have looked away.

What is the logic here? Because it's neither justice or the good thing to do. That it is the law? Since when do they follow the law? I don't remember vigilantism being legal, or assault and battery, or owning all the weapons Bruce owns. Yes, it was still a kidnapping, her father is a criminal, it would not have been a good life for a child. But, the Bats could have tried to find a solution, instead of simply giving this child back to someone who will treat her like shit.

I know it's just a fiction, so it's not like a real child is being exploited and will be more abused later when she stops being good enough because her mental health deteriorated, nobody is going to become depressed and lose trust in heroes because the bats brought her back to her awful mother. And also, it's not the characters who are at fault, it's the writers. It's not about Cass and Bruce being bad people heroes, it's about who the fuck decided to write that. New entries in my list of enemies, Keller Puckett and Dylan Horrocks.

[aetherdoesthings]

Hallo friend!

I hope you're doing well! May I request a platonic arlecchino with younger sibling!reader that brings home Clorinde, Navia, or Furina as their partner to introduce? No smut, just some tension and protectiveness from the (traumatized) pale haired harbinger! Thank you!

🍌anon

hallo 🍌anon! nice to meet you :D

forethoughts: sooooo i'm an only child, and i don't really understand sibling dynamics, so this is my interpretation of how a sibling would react to their younger sibling bringing someone home. nevertheless i hope you enjoy it! also my one piece people i promise i'm going back to writing one piece again i swear i'm just trying to dig my way out of the genshin rabbit hole i fell into 😭.

notes: gn!reader, protective!arlecchino

“Relax, Clorinde, Arle’s probably asleep or at work. She’s never at home.” You whispered, suppressing a giggle as you held onto your girlfriend’s hand, ushering her into your house. You and your older sibling, Arlecchino-otherwise The Knave-lived together in a mansion far away from the city of Fontaine. 

Clorinde rolled her eyes, as she followed you up to the door. “And if she catches us?”

“I’ll cover you. Don’t worry. Arle’s really nice.”

“Y/N, she’s a Harbinger.”

“Yeah, I’m not proud of her life choices but she’s still my sister and I love her. Come on.” You frowned, feigning disappointment as you put on your best puppy eyes.

A grin appeared on Clorinde’s face as you opened the door. The house was empty and dark, blades of moonlight cutting through the darkness through the glass panes that lined the walls. 

“See? Not at home-”

A single lamp turned on behind you, illuminating the dark room. Clorinde inhaled sharply, prompting you to turn around and face your sibling.

“Normally, I would excuse it if you came home after dark, but at two in the morning?” Arlecchino’s voice was low and stern, leaving no room for excuses or possible sucking up. 

“I didn’t know you were home today, Arle.” You hesitantly chuckled.

“Just because I am away does not mean I turn a blind eye to your actions.” Arlecchino glared at Clorinde, who held her glare at the Harbinger. “How long has this… thing been going on for, Y/N?”

“...two months.”

Arlecchino narrowed her eyes, furrowing her brows. “I was not aware you fancied the champion duelist.”

“Hey, Clorinde’s more than her title!” You exclaimed adamantly, holding onto Clorinde’s hand.

“I can leave if I am interrupting something-”

“Stay.” Both you and Arlecchino whipped your head at the champion duelist. She shrugged, staying still in her spot, her hand still in yours.

“Oh, little sibling,” Arlecchino sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “The champion duelist? Out of every other Fontainian?”

“Is that a problem?” You scoffed.

“No, no, but you could have done so much better.”

You placed a hand on Clorinde’s shoulder, glaring at your expressionless sister. “Hey! Stop being mean to my girlfriend! You always do this, judging people without ever actually knowing them! If you had a conversation with Clorinde, you’d know that-” 

“I was not talking to you, Y/N.”

You could hear Clorinde trying to hold back a chuckle as she placed a hand on yours, rubbing small circles around your thumb to calm you down.

“What’s your deal, Arlecchino? Won’t even let me date? Won’t even let me outside the house without two Fatui agents trailing me?” You scoffed.

“I could care less about how you spend your time. The only thing I care about is your wellbeing.”

“I’m perfectly healthy and safe when I’m around Clorinde. I don’t need you to worry. And if you even care about my wellbeing, you wouldn’t be hounding me 24/7 for my location and status, you overprotective idiot.”

You glared at Arlecchino, and Arlecchino returned your glare. “As your older sibling, I have a say in your safety and wellbeing. Perhaps I am overprotective, but blood runs thicker than water.”

“Well, thanks for your ‘concern’, but I’m pretty safe around Clorinde.” You huffed, emphasizing your point by wrapping your arms around Clorinde.

Arlecchino scoffed. “Stubborn as always, Y/N. When will you learn?”

“Shut up!”

Arlecchino sighed, standing up. “You should be heading back to your room now, Y/N. I’ll see your… partner out.”

“But-”

Your sister’s glare told you that she was in no mood to argue or negotiate, the crimson crosses in her eyes flickering. You rolled your eyes at her, before turning to Clorinde with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about her. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“It’s alright. You don’t need to apologize.” Clorinde smiled. You planted a soft kiss on Clorinde’s lips, knowing Arlecchino had pursed her hips and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Good. You glared at your sister one last time before heading back to your room.

Arlecchino sighed. “I care for Y/N; they are my sibling at the end of the day. They are my only…true family. I understand that to them it is difficult to find a significant other due to their tie to me and my affiliation. While I will not understand what you saw in my sibling, I suppose seeing their outburst to my comments about you is enough for me to infer that they do care about you deeply.”

“I understand you care for your sibling, Knave. I would expect any sibling to do so. I promise you, I will do my utter best to make your sibling happy and safe; I will protect them with my life. Y/N means the world to me, and I will treat them with the respect they deserve.” Clorinde responded, dipping her head at the Harbinger.

“Good. Good.” Arlecchino held the door open. “You better, champion duelist, otherwise it will be your own back you will need to watch to, not just your clients. Have a good night.”

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Saving a miracle is a lot and comes at a hefty price. Good thing nobody warned Mirabel ahead of time, wouldn’t want her to be able to consider what she’s doing before making rash decisions.

Vaguely inspired by @yellowcry’s Cursed Gifts AU.

Sequel to And I’m Asking “Why, Lord?”

Warning for sensitive topics below.

Time Eats All His Children in the End

Mirabel blinks, slowly coming back to it all. She’s lying on the floor of Antonio’s room, surrounded by grains of sand and burnt leaves. There is no sign of Bruno. Distantly, she can still hear the animals and Antonio playing nearby, splashing in the water. She manages to push herself up, sitting, having to balance herself with her hands.

What happened?

There is no obvious sign that anything has changed. No magic in her veins, no power at her command. Some small, naive part of her thinks it wasn’t real.

Then, her eyes drop down to herself and her stomach churns in disgust and horror. Her dress is completely shredded, hanging loose and in tatters. Her glasses have been knocked to who knows where, she can’t see them. It’s cold. She feels like a pinned butterfly, having its wings removed and its insides pulled apart. She’s on display. For something, someone not human. He has done something to her, taken something or changed something, and she has no idea what.

“Mirabel! You’re awake!” Antonio calls. She turns to find Parce pounding up towards her, the little boy riding on his back. His smile drops as he catches her. “Tío Bruno said to check on you that when you wake up… Mirabel, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine, Antonio,” she reassures him. As scared as she is, she doesn’t want to have him feel the same. But God, her voice is rough.

He clocks his head in confusion at her. After a moment, he shares a glance with the capybara that still hasn’t moved and nods in confirmation. “You don’t look okay and Chipsi agrees.”

“I… to be honest, I wasn’t quite prepared for the vision.” She lied. Well, partially.

Antonio, too young and oblivious, takes that as the gospel truth. “Oh, okay! We never really get to talk about Bruno and I had no idea what having a vision was like! So, what was it like? What did you see? Did you see the future? Was I all grown up? Was I taller than Camilo?”

“I’m sorry, but you know we weren’t looking at your future, primito. And I can assure you, I didn’t see anything you want to see.”

“Okay,” he huffed, sounding disappointed. “Next time Tío Bruno visits, I’m gonna ask him to give me a vision. Do you want to come and play with me and my friends?”

She shakes her head, gently. “No, thank you, Antonio. I have some embroidery to finish.”

Once she’s out of Antonio’s room and with the door safely closed behind her, she doesn’t have to act like she’s fine. She feels horrible about it, but she had to lie Antonio. This is nothing for a child to know, to be part of it, but she is a child and nobody thought to spare her…

It’s too much.

She stops, catching her reflection in the photographs of the ceremonies. Everyone minus her. That hasn’t changed then. Briefly, she considers taking Bruno’s off the wall and throwing it away. But, she doesn’t. She keeps walking. At least, she takes a few more steps before collapsing to her knees. Wincing at the sting of impact against her hands as she catches herself.

Casita flickers its tiles beside her, asking if she’s alright. The answer is blatantly obvious.

She feels horrible and betrayed and used and broken and worthless and—

She wraps her arms around herself, trying to calm herself down. It’s all too much. She can’t just bottle this up as she does with everything else.

Digging her nails into her skin, she scratches. Deep. Drawing blood. She doesn’t care, she screams through it like a dying animal. She wants to tear it all off. She wants to let herself bleed to death because at least then she won’t ever know what he’s done to her. The family will still be safe, the miracle will still survive. No one will care if she doesn’t. And maybe that is what hurts the most: the reality that no one would care what has happened to her. That’s why it did happen.

From her knees, she drops to her side. Curled into a ball and facing the plain, empty wall. Blocking out whatever Casita is trying to say to her. It is only a house. If it had never cracked in the first place, if it had never made her run to get help. She never asked for this, she never wanted this. She prays for it all to go away.

Eventually, her voice cracks. Her screams break off into sobbing, wretched and pitiful.

She can’t breathe through it. She tries, quick and frantic and mad, but she isn’t getting air. It slips through her lips, just as her door slipped from her all those years ago. Just as the last shred of her hope has slipped through her fingers into a dead man’s hand. She wants to rip apart her body and clean it, cleanse it in holy water. Clear away the damage and stains of a curse she doesn’t understand.

Pedro has taken something from her, and she will never be the same again.

Taken something. Stolen everything. And she had let it happen. She had trusted Bruno and then trusted him. And poor pathetic, little Mirabel couldn’t even save herself. She had asked for a blessing, now one has cut a place inside of her, buried into her like a parasite. Eating her out from the inside and will leave her a rotting corpse for the worms must be fed.

[softshuji]

Sometimes it feels like my mom punishes me for things I can't control and it's actually kinda really upsetting.

[persephoneflouwers]

Anons ✨

[vounoura]

what gets me abt Fel really is how much of an undertone through all of durge it is that you are never not being watched. He knows exactly when you give in, he knows everything you do, he knows the people you love and care for and sleep with and he knows exactly what to say and where to prod to get durge to do what he wants. you are not even safe from him in your own dreams because he's able to visit you there too. he holds your entire life history and important memories in his hands but it's him who gets to decide what you get to know and when, and he'll give you them if you just listen.

[crossbackpoke-check]

a doc of omega yamo being a nuisance, you say?

well…

[gremlingottoosilly]

kidnapped!reader come crawling back to kidnapper!könig after she was somehow released because she doesn't have anyone else beside that cruel man who loves her so so much

imagine being able to escape the guy who held you in his basement for three months only to find out that literally, no one notices your disappearance...yeah, that can fuck anyone up. You just...you couldn't fucking believe it - you thought all of those people were your friends, you thought they truly cared about you, at least enough to file out a police report. You literally went to your old apartment and it's rented to some other people. You tried to contact your parents, and then you remember that you weren't talking to each other for at least half a year, even before the whole kidnapping thing. It's shameful, but when you're forced to sit at the police station while literally, everyone ignores your attempts to file a report - you can't put anything, you're not injured, you're wearing nice clothes, you literally look like you just rolled out from a bed and gone with your day. Kidnapping victims don't look like that, and this is what the eyes of the officer listening to you say. Maybe, this is why when Konig pulls up to whatever park bench you holed yourself into, you don't even try to resist. There is disappointment in his eyes, and you are almost too embarrassed to look at him. You just...you feel weird. You should be scared, you should attack him and call for help. You ask him if he could stop by some drive-through and get you some food. He does. Konig asks if the escape was worth it, and you mask your sobs with the sound of munching on your fries. He reaches down to pat your hair and says that if you ever pull something like this again, he will break your legs. You nod, kinda agreeing with him - you'd break your own legs at this rate. He fucks you like an animal the next minute you're back in the house - only barely prepping you before punishing your poor, abused cunt with his cock. It's a miracle you are not damaged down there, as he drags you in his hands and never lets you leave the bed for the rest of the night. He hugs you and kisses your forehead when you say that no one even cared that you disappeared. At least now you know who really is on your side. It's him. Always been him.

[shaguro]

⤿ synposis: you can't ever leave the house without giving toji a kiss good-bye.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: fluff fluff fluff. (toji x fem!reader, established relationship, pet names used ( girl, baby, doll) toji's just in love idk. i wrote the majority of this at like 1 am nd barely proofread!!) wc ⇀ around 0.7k!

"girl", toji drawls, cerulean orbs trained on your figure by the front door. he’s manspread on your living room sofa, sitcom on the tv screen long forgotten as he turns his body around, all his attention on you and only you. “aren’t you forgettin’ somethin’?”

“hmm? what are you talking about, baby?” you keep your head low while you fumble with your stilettos, a hand on the wall for balance as you finally slip it onto your stocking-clad foot, the last step before you head out for your shift, the sun just peeking over the horizon.

of course, you know exactly what toji’s talking about. it doesn’t matter where you’re going or whether you’ll be back in ten minutes or a few hours, whether he’s in deep sleep or in the middle of an intense workout session — toji expects a kiss good-bye before you leave the apartment you share. he’s real strict about it too, he doesn’t accept any excuses, no if’s, an’s or buts.

does knowing all this stop you from testing the dark-haired man? absolutely not.

“i packed my work-bag last night and i have the car keys right here, looks like i’ve got-“

“now you know that’s not what i’m talkin’ about,” toji deadpans, completely unamused. barely keeping up the act, you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling. “don’t play dumb with me, baby.”

you do just that — tilt your head all cute and innocent as you furrow your brows, crossing your arms against your blouse. “i’m being serious though! i dont know what you’re talking about, i swear.”

“girl, please.” toji scoffs, scarred lip almost turned in a scowl. he’s always so sassy when you start to annoy him. “ya really stress me out, y’know that?” in a quick motion, he stands up, stretching out his long arms before he turns to face you. “you don’t know, huh? c’mere and let me remind you, then.”

toji’s tilts his head down. with low eyes and a coy smirk on his handsome face, he beckons you close with a single finger.

you can’t hide your smile now, it spreads ear to ear as you bounce over to him, the click clacking of your heels resounding on the hardwood floor until you reach the plush carpet where toji stood. he wastes no time, cupping his hands on the globes of your ass and tugs your body flush against his. toji’s so warm — he’s shirtless and all his sculpted muscles are on display, flexing when your cold hands glide across his pecs to snake around his neck.

toji leans down and his plump pink lips meet your glossed ones, the strawberry-flavored gloss sat sweet on his tastebuds but he prefers your taste instead, sliding his tongue through your slightly-parted lips with hopes to satisfy his glutinous craving and he’s not disappointed when your tongues mingle. “mm.” never tired of that saccharine taste, toji grunts into your mouth, taking his time kissing you — oddly soft and gentle.

toji pulls away and your lips part, only separated by a string of sticky saliva before he goes back in, giving you one, two, three quick pecks before he’s had his fill.

soft pants fill the air as toji holds you close, foreheads touching. “that jog your memory?”

toji rolls his eyes when you hum happy ‘mmhm!’ in response, hands rubbing on his broad shoulders, your fingertips ghosting the sharp line of his jaw. “you’re a pain in my ass…” he huffs, and you burst into a fit of giggles at his annoyed expression, unable to contain it anymore. it’s just so adorable — an infectious melody that toji prays he’ll continue to hear, for many years to come.

“lucky y’er so fuckin’ pretty . . next time i won’t go so easy on ya.” as if to seal the promise, he lands a heavy smack! on your ass. “toji!” you squeal out, the force of it propels you forward, temple thumping on his toned chest.

it was his turn to chuckle now, soothing the blow with a gentle rub of his palm prior to kissing the crown of your head. “now that i got my kisses . . s’time for you to head out, doll. don’t wanna be late again, hm?”

i'm finally back after disappearing for like a thousand years yayyy (don't beat me up yall pls)

[evilminji]

"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy

He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.

Paulie's parents were PISSED.

Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.

And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.

So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.

But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?

Entranced.

In AWE.

Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.

But still, he's about to say "no", when?

Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.

SOLD!

It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?

Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?

Not even as Ghosts, man.

They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.

Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!

So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!

The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!

What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?

Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!

DO BETTER!

And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.

And it's one hell of Fake Hero!

A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!

Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...

The Town website?

Weirdly? Sanitized.

Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....

Wait...

Hey, guuuuys?

Are you finding ANYTHING?

And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.

All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.

But how about thousands?

Hundreds of thousands?

From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.

Not a meme.

Very real.

Not a joke.

The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!

Phantom is REAL!

And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.

Here to help.

A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.

A... a once living star.

And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.

And now? The weather!

@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

[luxeslore]

why do you hate me?

tf141 men reacting to their spoiled gf saying “why do you hate me?” when she isn’t getting enough attention.

warnings -> 18+, f!reader, dom + sub dynamics, brat taming, allusions of impact play [spanking], petnames.

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

“excuse me?”

john’s eyebrows raise almost comically high. if it wasn’t for the stern glare taking over his features, you’d be giggling by now. instead you stay standing in front of him, shuffling on your feet with the same big pout you murmured your dumb question through. you despise making him upset with you—

at the same time, though… you feel those little sparks in your tummy when he pushes himself back from his desk and pats his lap. beckoning you to come sit on those strong thighs so he can sweet talk some sense to you. your feet can’t move fast enough, shuffling in your soft socks against the carpet. the rough denim of his jeans rubs against your own uncovered thighs as you shuffle in his lap.

“don’t ya think you’re being a silly girl?” it’s a simple question, but one you’re not exactly prepared for nonetheless.

your eyes meet his and there’s no way you can possibly shy away from his gaze. so you nod dumbly, and john’s chest rumbles with an approving hum. a strong hand cradles the back of your head, coaxing you to relax against his chest so he can put an end to this bratty streak you have in you rearing it’s ugly head.

SIMON GHOST RILEY

“what the fuck are y’on about?”

“just forget it, simon.” you bite back, turning on your heel to march away from him.

you hear his heavy sigh and it’s only a matter of seconds before the pair of big hands he has squeezes your waist, pulling you back into him until he’s able to growl right over the shell of your ear. you turn your head, tilting it upwards and meeting his fury filled eyes. it takes everything in you not to grin wildly and piss him off more than you already have— especially when you can practically feel the soreness his fingers will leave behind in your sides already.

“dumb pet,” he grits out, “could never hate you, not even when you act like this…”

at those words, you press a gentle kiss to his masked lips. and you know for a fact he’s rolling his eyes, tired of your theatrical tendencies and outbursts, but that doesn’t stop him from nudging your nose with his own. from pulling you closer and snorting out a breathy laugh.

“you’re still gonna fuckin’ get it later, y’know that right?”

JOHNNY SOAP MACTAVISH

“how dare ye?”

you know— you just know— that you’ve really fucked up this time. why would you say such a thing? why would you be such a nasty girl to the man who does everything for you? sure, he didn’t have his eyes on you for a bit— bless him, he just wanted to decompress after some training. and here you come, stomping over to him like a proper fusspot.

in a second, you’re tugged into his lap by your wrist. you clumsily fall on top of him but johnny is quick to readjust you, to make sure you’re getting a good look at his disappointed face.

“do ye even know what you’re saying?” he speaks lowly, doesn’t care how much your bottom lip wobbles under his harsh tone, “because i really don’t think ye do.”

“johnny, i’m sorry— i really—” you attempt blubbering out. however he presses his thick index finger against your pout, shushing you in an instant.

“fucked up again, bonnie.” he tsks.

maybe he’s right. you don’t know what you’re saying. you know better; you know what he likes to be called when you two find yourselves in situations just like this one, when you need to be put in your place. that’s why you don’t resist when he guides you to lay over his lap tummy down…

KYLE GAZ GARRICK

“princess, come on…”

kyle begins, treading carefully around your huffing form. strong arms loop around you from behind, humming softly when you melt right into him despite your bratty demeanor. you can feel him smile against the side of your warm face, while his scent and warmth invades your senses, calming you down immediately.

“you know that’s the farthest from the truth,” he whispers, kissing your cheek with an obnoxious smooching sound tacked on to each one. it prompts you to giggle and kyle laughs right along with you when he sees how much your nose scrunches up with happiness.

“there’s my sweet girl!”

he squeezes his arms around you, ignoring you when you shamefully apologize for being so ridiculous… because he knows deep down in his heart he’d let you get away with murder. so he shushes you with more kisses and murmurs about just how much he loves you, and plans on doing the same thing between your pretty thighs later on.

[angelltheninth]

Hi! I really like your writing for JJK! I was wondering if you could do, JJK men with a s/O with a heavy breeding kink? Thank you!

Why are you inside my head right now? Or do we have the same horny thoughts?

Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Choso x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, mating press, creampie, rough sex, pregnancy mention, cum marking, cumdrunk!Reader

A/N: My thoughts are almost always horny so chance is that we'll agree on something at some given moment.

Yuuji is happy that you want his cum so much but no matter what he always has a pack of condoms with him. You can never be too safe you know. And when you're riding his cock as much as you are, saying how you want him to breed you, how much you love his cum inside yo, him having a condom on is the only thing that can prevent pregnancy because he does not have the strength to pull out.

Sukuna has a breeding kink too, even more than you. You think he's gonna stop when he's knocked you up once? No, you've already shown how much you want it, he finishes inside you and you don't even let him pull out, you're holding on because you know for a fact that he has more cum to give, another baby to make with you. You can't wait to be impregnanted by the King of curses again.

Megumi is only really rough and messy with you when you your breeding kink comes out to play. He knows you'll do anything to be covered with his cum when you're in that state. You'll suck him off just to have it on your face, you'll let his cock slip out just to have it on your ass and back, you'll press against him and mumble as best as you still can about how warm it feels to be bathed in his seed.

Gojo wants at least a few kids with you. He's overjoyed when you start talking about it during sex and is a little disappointed when he finds out it was just a kink thing. Not to worry he will still unload as many cumshots into your womb as you want but one day he hopes that it won't be just dirty talk and that he will get to see mini versions of the two of you running around.

Nanami starts out wearing a condom but once he hears about how much you want to feel his cum in your pussy he decides to take it off. There are other ways to prevent a pregnancy if you're not just horny talking to him. If you really do want to be pregnant then there are a few other things he needs to prepare first so the breeding he gives you tonight won't be the one that actually impregnates you.

Geto is into it too, very much into it and encourages your breeding kink whenever and however he can. He talks very casually about how beautiful you'd look like if you were pregnant, how he would still bury his cock in you no matter what and fuck you until you couldn't stand. If it became too much for your pussy then he would fuck your throat until you couldn't speak. There is always a hole for him to breed.

Toji already has you folded in a mating press by the time you start begging for his seed inside of you, for him to breed you because you're currently at most fertile time of the month and his seed will surely take. Say no more. He will give you as many creampies as you want, it will be his pleasure, and yours too it seems. When he's done and carries you to bed you'll leave a white trail of cum behind you.

Choso likes the idea of being a dad some day but not yet. So whenever you ask him to breed you he hesitates, he pulls out and shoos his load on your body instead. It makes you sad to see his seed go to waste like that so you ask him to finger just a bit of it inside of you, after that you can take a pill right away, you just want to feel a little bit of it inside of you. Lucky you he loves you so much.

[bakugoushotwife]

a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!

warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.

summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!

it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do. 

satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself. 

he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen. 

he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?

that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure? 

this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.

your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand. 

“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this. 

“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?” 

you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means. 

but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders. 

“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?” 

“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?” 

“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod. 

“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings. 

he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?” 

you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago. 

“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair. 

“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason. 

he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body. 

“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men. 

“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion. 

“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.” 

you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed. 

“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway. 

no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.” 

“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start. 

“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real. 

“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.” 

you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”

“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.” 

your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?” 

“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but. 

but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you. 

you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention. 

though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.

his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams. 

“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously. 

“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it. 

in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his. 

“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again? 

your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how. 

you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command. 

“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it. 

“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue. 

your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”

“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname. 

“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy. 

“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight. 

“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.” 

your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious. 

you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife.