#and powers were so similar to what i had started writing them with and i went :0 so true besties

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[arklay]

🖊️ 🖊️ 🖊️ 🖊️ + diana xx

i've talked about this before, but diana doesn't get colds or viruses at all, and always thought she was just lucky or had a good immune system. truth is, she has a rare gene mutation that makes her resistant to viral infections and only found out about this during her research in africa, and confirmed it after she adapted to uroboros

she was the one who usually administered albert's medication, but she proposed to him that while she was out of kijuju giving a finalised sample to alex (why she isn't there during the events of 5) that he should let excella assist him with his injections so that she believed he trusted her completely, and this would ensure that their resources for the plan were properly secured before he would get rid of her. diana is very spiteful, i don't know what to tell you. maybe don't flirt with her husband while she's right there is all i'm saying

diana actually figured out how to control mutations and conjure tentacles during the years she was on her own and would talk to him through the class of his stasis chamber. after he was stable from her interference with his natural regeneration – speeding up the process quicker than she should've – she asked him to trust her that reverse mutation was possible and showed him how to do it as well

okay enough things surrounding that era. diana is fluent in three languages (english, russian and french) and is proficient in swahili, as well as knowing conversational mandarin

[hisui-dreamer]

he lives in you

Characters: Leona, Floyd, Jamil, Lilia

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread

Word count: 2.4k+

Notes: uh i was practicing Japanese and researching Japanese names before writing this, so all my name ideas ended up in japanese? if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese hehe

right in time for mother's day, so here's to a celebration of the motherly figures in our lives, blood related or not, for being there for us<3

Part 2✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Hina (日来) with 日 meaning "sun, day" and 来 meaning "coming, future"

Leona reminded you of a shining sun that radiated warmth and light in your life, of how the it would surely shine again no matter how dark the night seemed, and so you named your daughter after that image

your daughter has the clearest emerald eyes and flowing dark brown locks that you often braided in a similar style to her father's

she's very energetic, always curious and asking questions, eager to learn more about the world around her

she's an obedient child, although she's eager to seek your affection and may whine a bit when things don't go her way

if there was one thing that was similar to the Leona you knew, it's that she's extremely clingy and constantly seeks physical affection, hugging your legs and asking for you to carry them any chance she has

and also the fact that she enjoyed her naps a bit too much

her lion ears are a bit of an issue in our world, but you often hide them with hoods, clever hair styling, or simply saying it's a costume

when you told her about the brilliant man her father is, she grew really excited about the possibility of meeting him, and started playing around with magic more to be like the intelligent mage he is

and then it happened, just an ordinary afternoon practicing magic had the two of you transported back to twisted wonderland, face to face to Leona

somehow, he had grown even more handsome in the years you hadn't seen him, but instead of his lazy smile, he looked confident and powerful, like the leader he was always meant to be

A sudden gust of magic swept through the air behind him as he raised his staff in response, only to immediately drop it in shock as your figure came into sight, and beside you, a small child that he had never seen before.

"Herbivore..." he whispered.

Without a second thought, Leona rushed towards you, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He felt a lump forming in his throat as he reached out to embrace you tightly.

"This better not be a dream," he murmured into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent. "It's really you."

after a tearful reunion and introduction, Leona quickly excuses himself from his duties with a quick meeting with Falena, and helps you and Hina settle into the palace

since you left, Leona's been working hard to do what he can do as per your promise with him

he's now in charge of foreign affairs and on better terms with his brother after much needed communication

he showers you in affection, he's even clingier than before that it almost starts a rivalry with your daughter

he puts in a lot of effort to spend time with Hina, learning her likes and dislikes and bonding over magic

uncle jack and ruggie are always fun to be around and play with her

though it wasn't his fault, leona feels guilty you had to bare the responsibility on your own for so long, and he puts in a lot of effort to make amends for any mistakes work to build a strong relationship with you two

he has a family now, and you're damn sure he'll protect it with his life

Leona looked down at Hina, feeling a sense of pride and wonder at the little girl standing before him. "Hey there," he said, his voice gentle. "Nice to meet ya, kiddo."

Hina stared at him, her eyes searching his face. "Are you my dad?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.

Leona's heart ached at the question, knowing that he had missed so much of her life. "Yeah, I'm your dad," he said, reaching out to take her hand.

Hina looked at him for a moment before a smile spread across her face. "Can you show me magic?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

Leona felt a sense of joy at her words, feeling a connection with her that he had never felt before. "Of course I can," he said, standing up and taking her hand. "What do you wanna see?"

Sakura (桜) meaning "cherry blossoms"

your daughter has sleek teal hair that reminds you of the sea, a single strand of dark hair, and mismatched eyes in the same manner as Floyd

Floyd had lovingly given you the nickname "Shrimpy", and it only felt right for your daughter to be named Sakura, after the tiny sakura-shrimp

she's incredibly mischievous and there's not a moment of silence with her, she's spontaneous and playful and you've got your hands full

though she is very considerate of you and will listen to your words, she's uncontrollable when she's bored and in need of a spark of interest

she's also a squeezer, much like her father, and hugs you every time she sees you or anyone she likes, and you're thankful her strength hasn't developed too much yet

she enjoys biting you, albeit gently, and you find your arms littered with bite marks, but it's her unique way of showing affection

her eel form won't show unless she's been in the water for too long (thankfully), and she enjoys squeezing you in her eel form even more

ever so curious, she's asked about her father many times, and you've told her how carefree and easygoing her father is, and that he'd love her the moment she saw her

which leads you to her magic actually teleporting you to him, her spontaneous idea having manifested itself, and you found in a dimly lit room similar to the Mostro Lounge

Floyd looked matured, his hair sleeked back and his features sharpened, though his wry smile that you loved had stayed the same

Floyd's eyes widened with shock and disbelief, and his steps quickened as he rushes towards you, his long arms outstretched in a gesture of longing. As he got closer, he noticed the beautiful and curious-looking child standing close to you.

"Shrimpy?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "No way... It's really you!"

Floyd pulled you close, holding you tightly as if he never wanted to let go. "I missed ya so much, I wish I hadn't let ya go," he said, his voice choked with emotion as tears threatened to spill. "You're not allowed to leave again, okay?"

Floyd is so ecstatic he can't stand still, once he's calmed down a bit, be immediately carries Sakura and drags you to Jade and Azul

Azul and Jade are pleasantly surprised at your return, and it's a warm welcome back

the two of them are glad Floyd won't be moping any time soon

the trio have now expanded into a franchise and divulged into many businesses, though Floyd largely acts as Azul's right-hand man

Now that you're back, he refuses to be apart from you, always holding onto you tightly and afraid you might disappear just like how suddenly you appeared

he does get mood swings where he's upset or angry, not at you though, just at how unfair things were and how he couldn't be there for you

he's a good eel who does everything to make sure you and Sakura are happy and comfortable, often cooking meals for you two

he's so curious about Sakura and enjoys playing with her and lifting her high up in the air

don't worry, he's extremely careful, this precious gem is why you got back to him!

Jade is the best uncle and Sakura wants to marry him??? (honestly same)

poor Azul is getting pranked by the daughter- father duo, though Sakura does comfort him afterwards with squeezes and kissss

Floyd looked down at Sakura, and he saw her staring back at him with wide, curious eyes in the opposite colours of his eyes. Though she resembled him physically, there was an air about her that was so distinctly his Shrimpy.

"Heya," Floyd said, trying to sound friendly. "I'm your dad."

Sakura giggled and reached out to him, her tiny hands grasping at his hands. Floyd froze, not sure what to do, letting her yand his hand forward. But then, she opened her mouth and bit down on finger.

"Hey!" Floyd cried, pulling back in surprise.

Sakura just laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Floyd couldn't help but laugh too, despite the pain in his finger.

"Yer a feisty one, aren't ya, Sakura-shrimpy?" he teased, grinning down at her as he ruffled her hair. "You know," he whispered, "you can't just go around biting people like that. But I like your style."

Isami (功己) 功 meaning "achievement, credit, honour, merits" and 己 meaning "self, serpent, snake."

your son has smooth ebony locks and sharp grey eyes that make him look slightly intimidating

Jamil had shown you how much he valued his achievements over his social status, so you chose a name the could embody him

he's a quiet child who's always attentive and careful

he's rather shy in front of other people, but when it's you he'll soak up all of your affection and stare at you with longing eyes seeking praise

he's a cute helper at home too! he always volunteers to help you with chores and cook in the kitchen, though you're careful he's not close to anything sharp or dangerous

he does have an inherent fear of bugs, something he's inherited from Jamil, but thankfully you've taught him to be less destructive than his father

do expect screams and for him to be crying as a little fly chases him around though

he's incredibly smart and talented at magic, easily grasping the concepts of magic you can only teach him theoretically

when you told him about his father, you've told him about the diligent man that his father is, and how would let his guard down around those he treasured

he had listened quietly without much of a change in his expression, but you could tell there was a bubbling excitement building up in his eyes

and no long after that, he managed to teleport the two of you to a warm, airy room of marble walls

Jamil's features had sharpened, he seemed more openly confident and comfortable with himself

Jamil's heart skipped a beat as he saw you. It had been five years since he bid your farewell at the mirror chamber and lost you forever. And yet here you were standing here in front of him with a child in tow, a child who resembled him so much.

"It can't be..." he murmurs.

Without hesitation, Jamil dropped all the papers and rushed towards you, his heart pounding furiously. His eyes locked with yours, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still. He could see the love and longing still shining in your eyes, and he knew deep down that he had never stopped loving you.

Jamil couldn't stop the tears that began streaming down his face. "I've missed you so much," he said, his voice raspy. "Letting you go is the worst decision I've ever made." He reached out and pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms shaking with emotions.

he's a bit overwhelmed but still so thankful you're back in his life

Kalim barges in at this time and exclaims in surprise at your return and ??? OMG JAMIL YOU HAVE A SON?!!

Jamil has half a mind to dissuade him from holding a banquet immediately to welcome you back, and instead take things slow to not overwhelm you or Isami

asks Kalim for some privacy and the second he's away, he melts into your embrace

he hasn't felt so at ease in so long

if he wakes up in the morning and you're not right there beside him, he's panicking and searching all over the place for some confirmation you're still here

he's very curious about Isami and asks him all sorts of questions to piece together his development and personality

they definitely have a rivalry over who's braver over bugs but it just ends up with the two hugging you for safety

he's a bit awkward with how careful he is with his emotions, so it takes Isami some time to fully trust him

but trust me, Jamil will go above and beyond for his family and there's no way Isami will have to endure what Jamil did in his childhood

Jamil's eyes widened in surprise and wonder. He couldn't believe that they had created a life together. He knelt down to the Isami' eye level and looked into his eyes. "Hello there," he said, his voice gentle and warm. "What's your name?"

Isami starred back at him, his eyes wide with distrust and caution before he buried his face in your legs. Jamil chuckled softly. "It's okay," he comforted. "You don't have to be shy around me. I'm your dad."

Isami looked up at him again, this time with a mix of curiosity and wonder. "Daddy?" they said, testing the word out.

Jamil smiled warmly as nodded, his heart swelling with love and joy. "Yes, daddy," he parroted. "And I promise I'm never going to leave you or your mommy again."

Yuri (百合) meaning "lily"

Lilia's name always reminded you for lily flowers, and what better name for your daughter to embody him?

your daughter has straight raven hair with some of the hair flipping upwards resembling two horns, angular fae ears, and bright crimson eyes

she's always up for pranks and mischief, it's rare to see her without a smile

she loves exploring places, if you keep your eyes off her for one second, she's letting her curiosity take her to whatever she wants

if you're serious and stern though, she will listen to you, she wouldn't dare make her mother upset!

she's friendly with everyone and isn't shy to say hi to neighbors or absolute strangers

she's not overly affectionate, but she definitely enjoys hugs and kisses from you

she has an odd habit of taking stray animals back home in an attempt to adopt them, so you have little adventures with her trying to find an owner

do not let her in the kitchen

she has surely inherited her father's cooking abilities, somehow, she can render even a piece of toast beyond human consumption

magic comes as second nature to her, and she's always standing on ceilings

gosh her eyes absolutely sparkled when you told her about the teasing and mischievous fae that is her father

and soon, the portal opened and you found yourself in a gothic castle lit up by green candles

He's a lot taller, his hair longer and reaching his waist, and more enchanting than ever

Lilia stood in shock as your family figure come into sight. In all his years of living, he had never been so utterly stunned. After all these years, you had finally returned to him.

"Beastie..." Lilia gasped, his voice catching in his throat.

With a surge of energy, Lilia broke free from the trance-like state and hurried towards you, his hair streaming behind him like a dark flag as he enveloped you tightly in his embrace. "After all these years, you've truly come back to me?"

Carefully, Lilia held you at arm's length, studying your matured features, etching them into his memory like a cherished work of art. His eyes traced the lines and contours of your face, memorizing every detail that time had etched upon you.

"My, how you've grown," Lilia murmured, a mix of pride and wistfulness coloring his words. "The years have shaped you into a remarkable individual."

it's family reunion time!!!

he immediately drags you to the throne room where malleus, silver and sebek are

malleus is now king with two incredibly reliable bodyguards, and Lilia's his most trusted advisor

malleus is so glad his dear human friend is back, silver is satisfied that his father will have someone to be with, and sebek is screaming about Yuri, though she enjoys his loudness

for a while, Lilia is extremely affectionate, trying to make up for all the years that had gone by

when you're sleeping together at night, he hugs you tightly and it's difficult to leave his embrace

he definitely tries to cook for you two, going on and on about how the two of you need to stay healthy and need lots of nutrients

you always volunteer your portion for Yuri, and she'll gladly eat whatever her father has cooked for her

silver is an older brother often on babysitting duty, and Yuri loves watching him spar with sebek and also wants to learn

Sebek is quite fond of Yuri, and he sees his half-fae self in her

Lilia is always trying to fun with Yuri, bouncing her high up in the air and teaching her to hang upside down and swing around

plans so many family vacations, he can't wait to be exploring places with his two darlings

"Is she... ours?" Lilia asked. At your nod, he reached out to caress Yuri's cheek, his touch gentle as if he were touching fragile porcelain.

"Well, I'll be damned," Lilia chuckled, his voice cracking with emotion. "I never thought I'd be a father again. But I'm glad to meet you, little one. What's your name?"

Yuri giggled and and beamed at his touch. "My name's Yuri," she said, her voice sweet as honey.

"Yuri," Lilia repeated, his heart swelling with emotion. "What a beautiful name for my beautiful girl," he reached up to fondle her hair. "You know, Yuri," Lilia said, his voice growing serious. "I may not have been there for you when you were born, but I promise I'll always be here for you from now on. No matter what happens, I'm your father, and I'll always love you darling."

Part 2✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[etheries1015]

I had sort of a crack idea of what would the non-human twst boys do if their crush or s/o was allergic to them? Savanaclaw and Octonivelle with like the fur allergy and seafood allergy. Maybe diasomnia’s s/o has some sort of fairy allergy? Sorry if this is too silly for you to write, it’s alright if you don’t 😭

I LOVE THIS BECAUSE I'VE HAD A SIMILAR THOUGHT i'm allergic to cats and i'm like...man what am I gonna do around Grim BUAHAHA...this is a great idea. Nothing is too silly to write my friend!

Non-human Twst boys reacting to a S/O who is allergic to them!

featuring: Savanaclaw and Octavinelle!

general warnings: gender neutral reader, not really proof read \

TW: None! just fluff. and allergies.

Leona

The first time you sneezed around him, they didn't know it was literally BECAUSE of him. This was until you two took a nap together for the first time, and when you woke up he saw your face...Oh, brother. Your eyes were puffy and red, congested, and your nose leaked like nobody's business. He genuinely felt bad about this, but wouldn't let you in on his true feelings/emotions. Without understanding the cause (though he had an inkling) he immediately took you to the doctor.

"They're allergic to me? What kind of shitty nonsense is that?!"

Leona invested in the most expensive of healthcare for you. Allergy pills and whatnot, because he wasn't about to sacrifice his lovely naps with his significant other. No amount of allergy is gonna stop him from getting what he wants, and that is your affection.

Ruggie

"Sooo...basically you're saying you're allergic to me? Cause' im part heyena?"

"It's a little more complicated than that. It's more like...animal dander? I guess?" You didn't seem to certain in your answer either, it was more or less a guess since...well, there wasn't half beast half human where you are from. You can only make an educated guess on why you're so allergic to him based off of the information you had back at home.

Ruggie is honestly so sad about this. He can't afford to get you any treatments or medical help with this, so you two just have to be careful. He does manage to get his hands on some special washing products (probably legally) and takes extra care of what he eats, and how clean he his. He's consistently brushing his hair and cleaning his ears.

"Man i'm such a simp. What's wrong with me?!" ...He isn't used to bending backward for people. But seeing you so sick around him, hurt him even more than his pride, so he of course would do anything to make sure you're as comfortable around him as possible. Ahh...the power of love <3

Jack

He gives me the "I must stay away from you for your own good," Type. Although this doesn't last very long. Jack is incredibly loyal, and he's far too attached to let you go. There's times where he would try and keep a distance (much to your annoyance), but when you began sneezing and itching your eyes you knew he was somewhere nearby. Jack is protective like that, but it pains his heart to see you so sick because of something he cannot control.

He does both a mix of what Ruggie and Leona does. He took up extra part-time jobs to afford good allergy medication for you, the entire works. Pills, eye drops, nasal sprays, breathing treatments...He also invests in high-quality shampoo and conditioner to help rid of his dander and hopefully reduce the amount of shedding he has.

With the amount of hair Jack has, he is CONSTANTLY brushing it and it is CONSTANTLY shedding. He does EVERYTHING under the sun to control this, all for you. Although... this is a partnership! You told him that a relationship goes two ways. You love him regardless of how itchy you may get, and you equally chip in to problem-solve.

You're both loyal to each other until the very end, no matter what trivial matters may get in your way <3

Azul

He knew before you two started dating that you had a severe allergy to seafood, so he made it a point to avoid you. But...that didn't stop YOU from coming to HIM. It was one of the things that drew him towards you, the way even though you were gaining a rash you would still wrap your arms around the back of him. Although it wasn't as bad in his human form, he was always terrified what would happen if he were to unleash his original form.

But worry not! We are talking about the literal king of potionology. He finds a remedy very quickly, and you trust him...a little too fast. He is astonished when he says;

"Take this...the second you drink this your allergies will be something of the past. But be warned-" You grabbed it out of his hand and chugged it. He stared at you with his jaw slacked open, his face turning a deep shade of hot red when you throw yourself onto Azul and place a big fat kiss against his cheek.

He imploded. But hey! his potion worked! He tried to get you to give him some sort of paypack, but you mentioned that your form of payment was in that kiss.

He now demands kisses every time he makes the potion for you <3 It's kind of a silent agreement. He just stares at you after you're done drinking it, and whenever you feign ignorance the point upon his lips is far too obvious.

Jade

The first time you broke out in hives, he remained completely calm. Jade is rather smart, and he understands your allergy must be because of his disposition as a mer-folk. Although in human form, he couldn't help but notice the way you would hide your rashes either behind makeup or by bulking clothing. He was amused by this for a moment, but when he saw it worsen he couldn't help but become worried.

"Why would you go so far for me? what do you gain by allowing yourself to become sick?" When you replied with a blush that you simply liked Jade, thus his shock soon turned into action. He excused himself for a few days to climb mountains and collect the most effective of flowers and medicinal remedies for allergies and put together a potion that you were able to take to alleviate your symptoms.

He isn't the vice house warden for nothing! His talents and magic prowess truly aided him, albeit in a way that was seemingly selfish. It was all worth it for you, though.

But he does use you as an example during a class project in potionology, having you stand up in front of the class while he compares your allergies before and after taking the potion.

He got a 100% in the project. And a Significant other. A win-win for everyone!

Floyd

Floyd is much smarter than he lets on. The moment he hugs you from behind and touches your arm, he notices the rash right away. He eyed it with a frown, and without saying anything he let go of you much to your dismay, leaving you to your lonesome for a few days on end.

You had to admit you missed Floyd, his silly jokes and way of talking, his unpredictable personality, and the attention he would often give y you. While sitting at the table during a free period, your head was propped up against your hand and a sad sigh escaping your lips.

"Ehhhh? Why is shrimpy sitting here all alone? Didya miss me?" A familiar voice teased as arms wrapped around you and something akin to a vegetable drink set in front of you. You gasped and smile up at the tall male, who wasn't wrapping his arms around you as you were used to, typically ignoring the itching of your rashes. He convinced you to drink what he sat in front of you, and although you eyed it with suspicion, you sighed and drank it in one gulp and tightly shut eyes.

Nothing happened. You turned to look over at Floyd, about to question the purpose of making you drink the (surprisingly tasty) smoothie-like liquid but were quickly interrupted by lips pressing against your own.

The kiss caught you off guard and you began to panic, talking about your allergy...before you realized that nothing was happening. No rash, no itchiness, nothing.

"Seeeee? It's a potion. I made Azul make it for me. Now I can touch you as much as I want," He smiled proudly. However he managed to convince Azul would forever be beyond you...

He forgets to give you the potion sometimes, only when you two are cuddling and a rash or itching pops up do the both of you realize it's time for a dose.

Ya'll are so silly for each other <3

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count:  4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late. 

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end. 

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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

a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

[cross-crye]

𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔰

summary: twst & hsr charas with different soulmate au prompts that i think would fit them

incl: azul ashengrotto, idia shroud, malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge, aventurine, blade, jing yuan, sunday

wc: 0.9k

a/n: after an absolutely horrific year i'm finally back to writing!! got half a lifetime's worth of lore in what is essentially 2/3 of a school year lol. but hey at least i got some new lore, so what better way to celebrate that then writing abt my fave au?

monochrome vision

Even the most powerful of beings weren't immune to the effects of the passage of time. After spending such a longevous existence in solitude, enduring loss after loss at every step of the way, he becomes resigned to the notion of forever living in a grey-scale world. Perhaps he wasn’t meant for such luxuries. Perhaps he was one of the unlucky few who was condemned to a live barren of companionship and deeper meaning. He could only wonder in the late hours of the night, or in the lonely moments trapped within his own mind while sitting at his desk: ‘Just what sins have I committed in a past life in order to earn this karma?’ Imagine his surprise upon upon realising that perhaps he wasn’t fated for eternal despair and desolation, and that perhaps, he himself had a chance to experience true joy. As colours bloomed in front of his eyes for the first time in his life, one so long others would struggle to count it, all he could think was that perhaps it had truly all been worth it as he gazed at you, forever ingraining the details of your visage deep inside his memory, to be forever treasured as the face of his saviour.

lilia vanrogue; jing yuan

matching tattoos

Wearing long sleeves, covering up despite the less than optimal weather for such attire, developing and maintaining a preference for the indoors as soon as the temperatures start to rise; anything to keep that damned mark hidden away. If nobody sees it, it doesn’t exist. If nobody can spot it and remark a similarity, then its not there. As long as he can keep hiding the mark, he can keep denying the existence of his soulmate. To bear a curse such as his is an already horrific fate, he couldn’t allow himself burden anyone else with it. It was like a plague, it would only continue to spread and affect others, drag them down to the depths of despair; and for what? He couldn’t let his feeble desire for companionship be the reason somebody else lost their humanity. Yet when he found himself doubting his philosophy after bandaging your cut shoulder blades (curtsy of having fallen into a thorny thicket on your earlier walk that he begrudgingly joined you on) Spotting the familiar mark on you was something he hadn’t ever expected. His companion and dear friend had been his soulmate all along, a shocking revelation which had caused him to impulsively lift his own sleeves and point to the matching pair.

blade, idia shroud

interacting within dreams

That’s what you were to him, a dream. Something he could only long for and yearn with the entirety of his soul yet fail to reach every time he tried. Despite not having even see your face due to the dream’s magic, your presence was deeply ingrained in his heart. He had envisioned you so many times, imagined what you’d look like, wondering if you’d look as beautiful as you sounded. You would overtake every waking moment, for his dreams were no longer enough, he would daydream about you, and play your voice in his mind on loop, all he desired was to suffocate in your presence and truly surround him in a way his dreams of you never could. He memorised everything about you, from what you mentioned to eat for breakfast to your aspirations and moral philosophy. If simply thinking of you hard enough would have brought you to life, you would have been born anew countless times. He could only live on in a prison of longing of his own making, every moment increasing his desperation to finally meet you and escape his mediocre existence. His obsession ran so deep he could perfectly render your voice in his head and hear you talk to him of thinks you hadn’t yet said. He thought he’d finally driven himself mad with yearning, hearing your voice while awake even when he hadn’t been the one to picture it, only to turn to see you for the first time, the image of perfection that even he couldn’t have dreamt, finally complete.

malleus draconia, sunday

countdown until first meeting

The little wristwatch was what kept him going, seeing the numbers go down was his motivation to go on, giving himself a purpose despite his lack of one in others’ eyes. Knowing that out there there was somebody who could truly understand him, who could see his worth and achievements in light of his struggle. Early on he had been victim of the critique and ridicule, but the hope of one person’s existence in contrary to this fuelled him to keep going. To strive to be better, to do something better with the unfortunate cards he was dealt. What worth other’s pinned on him no longer mattered, and as long as the ever-changing numbers on his wrist would continue to decrease he’d continue to prove the world wrong about their initial perception of him. All his life’s work amounted to this, the fateful meeting with who was supposed to be his one true love. As he continued down the winding streets of the town he could only anxiously stare at his wrist, taking note of the handful of hours left. His distracted state however, lead to him making the wrong turn and the counter adjust itself, not even letting him take in the shock of seeing that it had now only read a couple of seconds as he immediately collided into somebody, gripping the stranger’s shoulders to maintain his stability. Neither of you processed the beeping sound of your timers as you gazed in each other eye’s awestruck at finally meeting your soulmate.

aventurine, azul ashengrotto

cross-crye © 2024.

no reposting, stealing, copying, translating my works or feeding them to AI

reblogs, comments and likes are all highly appreciated

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hello! I love your writing so much! It always gives me such a good chill and I absolutely adore the way the words all flow together! May I request a hero trying to escape from a villain and when the villain finally catches them there's a bit where they lift the hero's chin with a sword?

"Ah, good," the villain drawled. "You managed to apprehend our little runaway."

The hero grunted in pain, as the guards threw them down onto their knees. Their gaze darted around the room - a war room of maps and schemes too high up on the table for them to see properly, the dulled silver of the guards uniforms, and the perfectly polished leather boots standing not far ahead of them.

"Though not," the villain said, "without a little bloodshed, I see? Take yourself to the infirmary tent. I can handle him from here."

The hero's jaw clenched. They kept their head bowed, doing their best to keep their face obscured.

"My lord," the guard said.

As the room emptied, the hero tested the tightness of the ropes binding their wrists and ankles. They strained for the knots. No good. Before they could even start to rise, the villain had drawn their sword with a soft shick and pressed it to the hero's throat in one swift move.

"Suddenly shy?" the villain asked. "I was expecting spitted defiance and glares. Maybe some elegant spiel at what a monster I am and how I will never get away with this."

The hero said nothing.

The villain hummed, using the tip of the blade to tilt the hero's head up.

The hero braced themselves as their gazes met.

The villain froze.

The hero's lip curled; a smile most mocking.

"Guards!" the villain yelled.

The guards returned immediately from outside, even as the villain's attention stayed locked on the hero's face.

"Would you like to tell me," the villain's voice was silken, dangerous, "why you've captured the wrong person?"

"I - my lord?"

"This is not the prince. Do you not know your own prince?" the villain asked.

"But they - they wielded the royal blade, my lord - they -"

Power, dark and ominous, ripped through the room like a thousand shadowy swords appearing in the air.

The guards fell silent.

"Fooled ya," the hero rasped. "Sucker."

"Go to where you found them," the villain ordered. "The prince can't have got far-"

The guards stayed silent. They didn't move. The smile on the hero's lips grew a little more.

"What?" the villain snapped.

"They put up - that is - the fight and the chase went on for some time, my lord." The head guard sounded strained. "Any of their tracks would have been destroyed by our own. The prince is long gone, my lord."

The power struck in an instant.

The lead guard dropped, dripping blood from a thousand blade cuts. The hero managed not to flinch. Somehow.

"Would somebody like to try that again?" the villain asked.

"We'll find him, my lord," another guard said, pasty with sweat. "We'll go and look now."

Most of the guards left, on that hopeless errand. Someone dragged the head guard's body out. His blood was already beginning to turn inky.

The hero felt light-headed with a mixture of triumph and terror, as they eyed the villain over the hilt of their sword. The villain studied them in turn.

The running, after all, had been genuine. Escape had always been the plan. Still. They supposed the ruse had fulfilled its purpose either way, just so long as no one was stupid enough to come back for them.

"Who are you?" the villain demanded.

The hero shrugged.

The villain pressed the blade in a little harder. "Who. Are. you."

"I'm your tailor's assistant."

"...excuse me?"

"I help mend your clothes and the clothes of your soldiers," the hero said. "Thrilling, isn't it?"

The villain stared at the hero like they thought they might be joking. They weren't.

"You were skilled enough with a blade to fool my highest ranking officers."

The hero shrugged again.

The villain used the blade to tilt the hero's head the other way. "You really do look remarkably similar to the prince, on first glance."

"Bet you regret killing your own men in a strop now."

The villain draw the blade down again, opening the smallest wound. Blood pooled in the hero's collar bone, shimmering a faint, barely there silver.

"You're one of the king's bastards," the villain said.

The hero resisted the urge to swallow.

The villain's eyes narrowed, liquid shadow, as they seemed to consider their options, before a truly terrible smile flashed across their face. Charming. Beguiling.

They looked up at their guards.

"Take our little runaway to my quarters. Do make sure that they're secure this time, won't you?"

They definitely should have ran faster.

[lunarw0rks]

i’ve never seen anybody write for simon riley better than u 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 can i request him + manhandling idc if it’s headcanons drabble ANYTHINGGGG ur writing is just too good

A/N: thank you so much, I'm always doubtful about my characterization lowkey, so this means a lot <3 I think about manhandling!ghost several times daily.

Summary: Ghost manhandles you.

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), strong language, smut, rough sex, manhandling, p in v sex, fingering, size kink, creampie, established relationship, fem!reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 2.3k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

Manhandling // Drabble

With Simon’s rough and rugged line of work, the last thing he wants to do is exert himself even more, especially at his partner’s expense…

… Right?

Well, that’s not always the case.

Sometimes, he can’t help himself; his full strength is used on them with ease, the shock of it all. The power of his large, calloused hands and bulging biceps. And most underrated, his toned thighs, the force of his knees to pin a squirming hostile.

IT STARTS SLOWLY; the things you’re used to, like a grab of the jaw or a slight tug of the hair, all verbatim of what his hands normally do during foreplay. The first time he wanted to be rough, to manhandle, he told you beforehand. Since it’s such a rarity for him, why not use the element of surprise? The hand on your jaw, the scalp grip, the lack of words in between kisses, you’re just expecting his routine intimacy. But then… it felt different—abrasive.

Your back finds the wall or the back of the couch, his hold caging you there—not that you have a choice, or care to at this point. That other side of him can be so… exciting to see after months of him teaching you like your body is glass bound to shatter.

❝Keep your hands there, dammit, or stay fuckin’ still,❞ the grumble catches your attention because you hadn’t realized how much his digging fingers were making you squirm, all before they even reached anywhere remotely sensitive. In return, your hands remain on his waist, holding onto the fabric of his tee for dear life.

In truth, you’re too intrigued to disobey, and it’s abundantly clear that this side of him had the ability to make this experience tortuous.

NOT GOOD ENOUGH; No, not you—the couch isn’t good enough. In one swift motion, you’re over hiked over his shoulder like a wounded soldier. Only, his supporting hand is gripping your rear and not the legs of a maimed person, as he’d been trained. The shriek you let out, charms him, to say the least, not that his expression would show much of it. Your view is of the curves of his back, head bouncing against it as he takes calculated strides up the steps, as if there isn’t the weight of a grown person literally on his shoulder.

You hear the hinges screech, the same way they do even when you try to open the door quietly, but it’s clear that’s not a concern of his right now because it shuts and locks just as quickly. A tedious habit of his, even when not engaging in intimacy, even when he sweeps the house before bed every night.

Your back hits the mattress with a few bounces because you’ve been tossed. The small gasp you let out, it’s nothing compared to the resonant, growling chuckle that escapes him.

❝Don’t be a prude now.❞ The humor ends when he speaks. ❝I saw the way you were lookin’ at me… you’re enjoying this.❞

His fist finds the t-shirt you’re wearing, one of his, thrusting it upwards and over your head. It’s like your body is moving for you, how you raised your arms when he removed the shirt, but in your head it’s only a thick fog of lust.

NO TIME TO PREPARE; Simon knows his size, and he’s well aware of how harsh he is. He’s not a barbarian—a little foreplay is the humane thing to do.

His tongue is too intimate, and caressing your figure is too slow. After a few seconds of contemplation concealed by his lips on yours, he’s come to a decision. Hands, it is. Similar to the shirt, he nearly shreds the bottoms. With this cloud of his aggressiveness, he’d shred any clothing in his way. There was no time to tease, either. The sooner he can bottom out inside you, the sooner his frustrations will fizzle.

You’re clothless now, aside from the panties, though they were ripped off before you could catch up. ❝Simon,❞ he doesn’t raise his head, but the hooded stare is enough to shut you up. It was more of a moan than an alert, like you were already void of your full articulation.

If you really wanted to stop, for him to slow down, you wouldn’t be grinding your hips against his fingers.

Simon was only rubbing your inner thighs and you’d already said his name once, so imagine his amusement when he runs his thumb along your clit.

He has to stop himself; he’s not there to massage it like he normally would, he’s down there to prepare you for his size. Though, the hypothetical sight of you circling it yourself while he pumps his fingers, it would be enough to make him finish in his jeans.

Whether you do or not is up to you, it’s your body about to be misused, not his.

His head moves from hovering over your sex, to back over you, only he’s nipping at your cleavage and not your upper lips. There’s no warning; you feel it before you can beg for anything. His middle and ring finger, easing its way in, before he wastes no time curling them against your walls.

Still, with one hand occupied, his strength prevails. The unoccupied one is on your shoulder, keeping you pinned so only your hips have any range of movement. ❝Already a mess for me.❞ His mouth is slightly agape, like he wanted it there instead of his fingers. It was true—the methodical, sticky noise, especially when he went faster and it gathered more on the area. After only a minute of this, it had dripped down the length of his fingers, already a small pool on his charcoal gray sheets.

IMPATIENCE; sure, you could try and fight his grip, but you’re only tiring yourself out more. It didn’t matter how much you wanted to touch him, to do something other than lay there and writhe—good luck. He had already pictured this, when he was kissing you downstairs, what position he was going to put you in. Hips controlled, hands free; the opposite of the one he just fingered you in.

Lucky, or unlucky for you, he was aching for release.

His fingers, once pumping in and out of you, removed just as quickly. With skill, he unbuckled his belt and was left in his boxers and t-shirt—eyes commanding, watching you ache for him impatiently. It was almost humorous, him being in charge and hasty, but you’re the one clenching around nothing.

Simon was never one for conversations, and he sure as hell wasn’t now—not when his cock sprang out of his boxers, throbbing and athirst. The tip of it, already slick with pre-cum was futile against the amount of wetness already soaking your core. At least he knew he wasn’t going to break you entirely, only immobilize you for a few hours at most—the thought of that only encouraged his ravishment.

IRON GRIP; for only a few seconds, one hand is on his length, lining it up. He groans lowly, a string of curses escaping his lips when he slips in with ease. The stretch alone could make him finish, how his size is crammed in, despite the warm-up he gave you with his fingers. But it’s not a slow entrance, it’s deep and forceful, so satisfying he would go forever if he could. ❝So fuckin’ tight,❞ he says, yanking your body towards his length, as opposed to using his own hips to pump himself. But that isn’t enough—you’re moving around too much, you can’t help it, he fills you so well.

Rather than harsh words, another command telling you to stop moving, he uses his strength again. For a second, he debated on putting your own panties in your mouth, maybe a hand there instead, but he wanted to hear every desperate exclamation increase the more he used you.

Before, he was only being rough, and it was nothing compared to how ferocious he’s being now. Both hands find your hips, lifting them off the bed, thrusting your weight on his length with all his force. Shoulder blades and above are still on the mattress, while the bottom half of you is lifted. The angle of it, how he’s lifting you, he’s hitting spots so deep inside—so rarely stimulated. And he’s hitting it with such force, a constant, repetitive pound kissing your g-spot. ❝Take it all for me.❞ As if you have a choice in the matter, he’s already bottomed out.

Even if he wasn’t finding that unparalleled spot, the sight of his eyes half-open, the grunts that sound like growls, even just the pure feeling of him inside you would be enough. From his perspective, it’s just as arousing; the mouth agape, your back stuck in an arch, how you pulse around him with each thrust, the sticky mess coating his cock and lubricating his forceful jerks.

FINISH ME; his movements have gone from calculated to sloppy, but the speed has only decreased a thread. The sound of skin meeting skin, each grind of his hips followed by the sound of your wetness, it’s inching him closer to his finish. And you, that spot deep inside you abused and built up in your abdomen like a funnel cloud—it wouldn’t be long now, not while he’s drilling you.

When he’s hitting that spot, there’s no need to press down on your stomach, to stimulate the clit that’s been throbbing this whole time. It’s like ecstasy, making your eyes roll slightly, each muscle from your pelvis to your toes tighten and tremble. If it weren’t for his large hands holding up your hips, there’s no way your legs would’ve been able to support themselves, and they sure as hell won’t be able to after he’s done.

❝Be good ‘nd cum for me,❞ his chest heaves only slightly, fingertips leaving marks where they’ve been digging for minutes straight. It’s more of a beg than he lets on, because if you keep whining like that, he’s going to finish before you. But you’re so close; he’s seen it several times now—the babbling, the shivering, the pleading under your breath—as if he’s going to stop now.

Within seconds of his relentless movements, the arousal his voice gave you, you were there, dissolving into the pleasure building brick by brick for minutes now. It comes like a sledgehammer, leaving you shaking against him while a string of reaction phrases breath through your lips. ❝There it is…❞ A small chuckle leaves his lips, but you’re too lost to notice.

He’s slowed only a little bit, as if to hold off his own release until yours has finished. He can’t be too distracted and miss it, otherwise he’d just have to start all over again—in his mind, he’s unsure you could even handle that, the sheer size and force he would use to do that.

The feeling ripples through you, his thrusts only magnifying it for you. Your hands find anything they can, first a futile attempt to reach him, but the angle makes it difficult. Then, the sheets you could’ve ripped from the mattress if you tried. Without any of your own control, you’ve tightened and pulsed around his cock repeatedly, so much it would’ve been difficult for him to keep moving if you weren’t so drenched by now. You could swear everything muffled for a few seconds, and if your eyes hadn’t tightened shut, there probably would’ve been black spots.

For him, the sight of it was something he would never pass up; downright sexy for him to watch, motivating his own climax to the point of no control anymore. The bulge of his cock visible on your stomach, he can see himself twitch. When he’d once been thrusting your hips onto him, he had stopped now, his own hips tensing as his head leans back slightly.

❝Fuck.❞ It’s a simple phrase, but his heavy breathing clouding the words says enough. Still, your hips are raised and at his mercy, shivering until he decides he’s done. His abs tightened a few times, spilling every last drop deep inside. He can’t help himself, he sneaks in a few slow thrusts afterward, savoring the feeling of your pillowy walls clenched around him—only until he knows he won’t hold back if he doesn’t pull out this instant.

AFTERMATH; his thumb traces your hips in a soothing manner, letting them down slowly until you’re resting on the mattress again. ❝Shouldn’t have let me do that, or I’ll want to do it again next time.❞ He lets out a deep snigger, pulling himself out slowly. He finds the waistband of his boxers, pulling them up to a normal position again. Then, he finds the throw blanket that ended up tossed onto the dresser, an action he must’ve done in the heat of it, due to his lack of memory.

❝Do what? Make me finish?❞ you ask, breathless and flushed. The quilt is draped over your shivering frame, like an unnecessary apology for the abuse. It seemed no matter how many times you insisted he could be rough, or how many times he was, he fussed over you.

When your tone came out slightly snarky, cocky even, he scoffed. His mind flooded with those images again, biting on his bottom lip with every ounce of his restraint. ❝Don’t get cute with me, love, that’s not what I meant.❞ His menacing nature would once send a chill down your spine, but after that, you’re hoping he’ll do it again, despite the ache in your muscles.

He finally finishes his sentence once he’s leaned in for another kiss, breath on your ever-gasping lips, ❝I’ll always make you finish.❞

[justauthoring]

your hand feels nice in mine.

requested! -> hii loved your natsu fic! 🤭 i’m glad that fairy tail content is coming back. i wanna request something similar w gray.. maybe it’s a hot day n he helps reader

a/n -> honestly it was not my intention to write for fairy tail today... but writing that natsu drabble was so fun and i can't help it im in a fair tail mood lol. also, for the sake of it, let's pretty juvia hasn't joined the guild yet okay?

pairing -> gray fullbuster x f!reader

it was far too hot.

ridiculously hot.

really, it shouldn't even be humanely possible for it to be this hot. hot enough that you were sweating profusely, it building up on your forehead and leaving you feeling gross and sticky. you were thirsty and your movements felt luggish, as if you might just pass out on the spot.

clearly, the universe had something against you because this was starting to feel like a personal attack.

your eyes flicker to your teammate who seems all too unaffected by the heat; which, yes, to be fair was to be expected. gray was an ice wizard and you knew he ran cold, so obviously this heat wasn't impacting him as much. he looked somewhat warm, you guessed, a small build up of sweat lining his forehead.

but he wasn't dragging his feet and he didn't look flushed or uncomfortable. nothing like you at least.

walking ahead of you, gray looks perfectly fine which, unfortunately, is just irritating you more. how was it fair that he was fine while you were practically dying?

"dumb ice wizard with your stupid ice powers and cooling abilities," you mumble to yourself, grouchy and annoyed.

you just wanted this mission to be over but it was looking like you were going to be stuck on this island for a while longer if the fact that you guys hadn't even found your clients target yet was anything to go by. the rest of team natsu had split up in search of them; natsu and happy with lucy and erza with carla and wendy.

which left you with the stupid, unbothered and cool gray.

truthfully, you're not even sure how you're going to even be able fight the damn target when you do reach them because it was so hot!

"are you okay?"

if he hadn't spoken, you would've ended up walking right into gray. but his voice is enough to snap you out of your own sulking, blinking as you stop and meet his gaze. his words seem genuine and you're sure he is concerned but the damn smirk on his lips just pisses you off more.

"fine," you reply sharply, turning to walk past him.

gray reaches for you before you can, his hand wrapping around your arm and halting your steps as he pulls you back towards him.

regrettably, even if his cold hand feels soothing on your skin.

"what—"

gray just lets out a chuckle, shifting you so you're stood in front of him before pressing his palm against your forehead. whatever you'd been about to say promptly falls silent the second it does. instantly, a cold, gentle breeze flows over you, enveloping your entire body in a cooling sensation that has your tensed muscles relaxing.

"oh."

"feel better?"

glancing up at gray, you blink at him, dazed. "much," you admit, nodding, "your magic feels so nice."

gray flushes slightly at your words, the compliment making his insides feel funny as he coughs, trying to pretend like that hadn't affected him. "w-well, i'm glad. you looked pretty miserable."

as the feeling floods you, you start to gather your bearings, now just realizing how close you were to gray. his hand was raised, pressed against your forehead, but his other hand still rested on your arm and the two of you were very close.

you feel your cheeks warm as you lower your gaze.

"th-thank you, gray." you mumble, feeling oddly embarrassed even though you can't reason why. gray was your friend and all he was doing was helping you, his friend, cool down in this ridiculous heat.

there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

still, that couldn't explain the flush on both of your cheeks.

"here," gray shifts, moving his hand and you have to resist the urge to moan at the loss of his hand. he lets go of your arm and moves to stand beside you. and, before you can dwell on the disappointment much longer, gray's face is burning and he's promptly turning away from you, avoiding your gaze.

your eyes then lower, seeing his hand held out towards you, palm inviting.

"gray?"

"hold my hand," he explains, muffled as he shoves his face into his coat collar (surprisingly still on). "i'll keep you cool."

the realization dawns on you, eyes widening. "o-oh," you mumble, forcing the words out as you glance at his hand once again. "okay."

slowly, hesitantly, you slip your hand into his, gray easing into the touch as he threads his fingers through your own, and squeezes.

true to his word, he lets his magic slowly seep out, cooling you and enveloping you in a consant cool sensation. but the heat refuses to fade from your cheeks, all the same, as the two of you avoid each others gaze.

"sh-should we get going?"

"ye-yeah."

-

"y/n?"

"hm?"

"why are you holding gray's hand?"

you snap your attention to lucy at her question, eyes then snapping to gray who's staring back at you, and then finally down to your intwined hands.

a second later, the two of you are pulling away.

"no-no reason!"

"nothing!"

lucy just blinks at the two of you, quirking a knowing brow.

"you guys sure?"

you send a lucy a half-hearted glare, knowing what she's insinuating, and given that she knew more than anyone else there, you refused to let her try and egg you on. "of course," you say firmly, and lucy just laughs. "it was just... hot. gray cooled me down."

hands on her hips, lucy snorts; "okay, then." then, stepping back, she shrugs. "i was just curious."

she leaves the two of you alone and both you and gray stand there for a moment, silent, not sure what to say.

then, gray speaks up; "i didn't mind, you know?"

"hm?" you mumble, meeting his eyes. he just gestures to his hand and your lips part. "oh. me... me neither. it... felt nice." then, you move to clarify; "and not just because of your magic."

"that's good," gray nods, flustered. "i'm glad."

"yeah."

"...wanna... hold hands again?"

you let out a breath of relief. "yes."

[bb-eilish]

Dirty little fantasies

pairing; master!anakin skywalker x fem!padawanreader

warnings; Fantasies, pinning, corruption kink, virgin reader, dom! anakin, sub! reader, nipple play, creampie, hand kink, dirty talk, praising, degradation, cunnilingus

a/n; i’ve never written for anakin before but i love star wars and i love writing smut so here u go!

Y/n was honestly surprised she ever became a Jedi apprentice. She was much older than the younglings, but Obi-wan and his own apprentice, Anakin, pushed for her training anyway. The council questioned who would be training her, as all of the masters already had Padawan of their own. Her hopes shattered when Master Yoda pointed out the obvious fact.

She was told the force was strong within her , not sure what that meant, y/n smiled and became excited anyway.

"Master, my Padawan is surely ready for his test. He has my full confidence. He will be able to train her." Obi-wan stepped forward, eyebrows furrowed as Anakin nodded, a serious expression scorched onto his face.

The council all had similar curious and questioning looks, but nodded anyways. "Alright, we will allow it." Master Windu sighed, putting his hand up. Y/n's eyes widened and every fiber in her being felt on fire, this is the most exciting thing she's ever experienced, and it hasn't even started yet.

The three of them exited the room and immediately a hurl of thank you's and smiles gush out of her towards the men. Their faces softened as they smiled.

—————

Y/n was now an adult, though, she wasn't very young when she became an apprentice, only several years had passed. Anakin was a great Master and she felt very lucky. The way everyone talked about him was fascinating, they praised him left, right, and center. They even became closer than she expected, being closer in age than other Padawan and Master pairs made that entirely possible.

"Master, wait up. Why are your legs so long." Y/n complained as she jogged up to Anakin's side once more, she swears he can take two steps and be a mile ahead of her. He chuckles before saying, "You ask that every time we walk together." Her nose scrunches at his teasing. But at the same time, her heart skips a beat and she swallows quietly. Though, she tries her hardest to keep down the way her body practically yearns for him. The hardest part is keeping the thoughts, the oh so delicious thoughts about him, to a 0 whenever he's near. The force is amazing in so many ways but a real pain in the ass when all she wants do is day dream about him.

"Great job by the way, the mission wouldn't have gone as well as it did without you. You're becoming a considerable Jedi." He looks over at her as she thanked him. He can't help but think about how much she's grown while being under his wing. In power and physically. Anakin was no liar, he couldn't possibly deny the fact she has matured into a fully fledged woman, Padawan or not, he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. He had to push down the thoughts as well.

Anakin was fully aware of her daily thoughts. It made his day whenever he could know what she was thinking before she even entered the room. They were always innocent and random, until recently. Y/n clouded her thoughts much more, and at random times of the day and night, the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up, goosebumps would frost his skin and he had no idea why. The thoughts he could read were innocent in nature, but all about him. What he was wearing that day, how he decided to style his hair, certain things he said to her. His ego inflated each time and it made him even more arrogant and confident.

But alas, Jedi's were not allowed to become attached. He wondered if he needed to remind her of that, but he decided against it. Having a crush on him wasn't a crime.

—————

Anakin waited for her at her door that morning, he always does when they train at this time, which is only a few times a week. As he neared the door her thoughts became more apparent, at first she was busy with brushing her hair, then it was her tying her robes, and then they drifted off to him. He could see she was thinking about the time he had to help her untie the small knot she made in her robes. It made him smile, it was almost impossible to untie it. But his smile slowly faded as he realized her attention, unwavering, was directed to his hand. Not him untying the knot in general per say, but the way his calloused hand and metal one gripped the fabric, and how his very visible veins bulged through his skin.

He could sense how hard she focused on it, and how the thought of his hands sent her spiraling into day dreams. He was about to knock to end his spying before something caught him off guard. The waves of want that echoed from her, he could feel the stuttered deep breath she let out as she thought about his hands on her. How they would feel to prod at her most sensitive areas as he spoke downright sinful words towards her.

He felt like the air was knocked from his lungs as she thought in detail about the things he would say. The hair at the back of his neck reacted first, the goosebumps came second. "You're my prettiest girl , aren't you?" "Such a slut for me." "Use your words, angel." "You're mine, only I can make you feel like this." Anakin roughly shook his head before he breathed in and knocked on her door.

The thoughts ceased and his shoulders untensed because of it.

Y/n's door opened and there she was, smile as bright as ever as she greeted him. "Good morning, Master. A bit late aren't you?" She questioned, closing the door behind her with a wave of her hand.

He mustered up a smile as well as he answered, "Apologies, I was talking with Master Yoda." He patted himself on the back for not being suspicious as he lied through his teeth.

—————

Training was different today. No doubt it was about what he had walked in on this morning, but he tried his best to act like something wasn't bothering him.

Sparring was especially different, he was acutely aware of whenever he even placed a finger on her. She didn't seem affected at this but he knew. He knew the things she wanted him to say to her, say to her when his hands memorized her body, set her skin ablaze in their wake. It had a carnal desire simmering in his gut as he gazed at her sweaty form pant from the work she was being put through. So when training ended he made his way to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face helped the heat on his skin, but not the heat starting to grow in him.

Anakin fell pray to his desires, now instead of her imagining what it would be like to be underneath him, it was him imagining what it would be like to be on top of her. Looking down to see the look in her eyes as he touched her, made her his. The sounds she'd make as he stuffed her full. The mere thought had his pants tighten significantly. Would she cry as he stretched her out? Would she beg him to keep going? Better yet, would she submit herself to him, his mercy?

He manages, somehow, to collect himself before he leaves.

"There you are, Anakin. There is a last minute mission I need you and Y/n to do" Obi-wan told him as he lead him to the holotable. "Do not let him out of your sight, we suspect he's behind Senator Amidala's assassination attempts. He knows what you both look like though, so make sure he doesn't notice you." He explained further, Anakin nodded, going into serious Jedi-Master mode.

"I won't fail you, Master."

—————

After Anakin explained the plan to her she nodded along and followed his lead to his speeder.

"He lives in-" He pauses as he points to the apartment building they both come up to. "That building, there is two doors leading out, one in the back and one in the front. I'll take the one behind it." He parks the speeder where he could get in it quickly, but isn't suspicious. "We're close enough to speak through the force, so if something happens let me know immediately."

"Yes, Master."

He nods at her before speedily walking to the other side of the small apartment building. She pulls up the hood of her robe and tries to look the least inconspicuous as she possibly can.

—————

It's been radio silence for a few hours before the front door opens to the exact alien they're here for. She quickly lets Anakin know.

She watches the alien closely, walking behind him at a distance he wouldn't find strange.

Anakin catches up to her, both the Jedis watch the supposed assassinator from afar enter a bar. "I hate bars." She groans as he drags the Padawan inside the building.

"Uh, Master. Won't our hoods be kind of out of place in here?" Y/n points out, noticing the lack of clothes everyone is wearing.

"Oh, yes. Clever thinking, Y/n." He says, narrowing his eyes in search for the alien.

They both take a seat at one of the tables, eyeing the place until Anakin spots the alien, he's at the bar, downing what seems to be his 3rd shot. He stumbles a bit trying to get off of his chair. Both Jedi watch him go down the hallway that has the bathrooms, but also the back door. So, Anakin flags you over as he gets up. "Uh, Master. Isn't he just going to the bathroom?" She questions getting close enough to the hallway to peer down it. It's empty, aside from the usual couple making out on the walls. It brings a blush to her cheeks. No sign of the alien though.

They both walk further down the hallway until they both feel the door about to be opened, so Anakin does the first thing he can think of. He pushes his Padawan against the closest wall and kisses her. Trying his best to shield both of their identities, he pushes himself further against her and puts his hands on her cheeks trying to hide her face. She gasps in his mouth and her hands can't help but grip his robes.

She's never been this close to him, the feel of his skin on hers, his hands on her, feels like a dream. His intoxicating smell already clouds her mind. But the feeling is over before she knows it, the alien has walked back into the main area again. Anakin doesn't waste a second before following him.

Y/n stands at the wall still, hand coming up to touch her lips. That was her first kiss. Her first kiss was with him.

—————

The outcome of the mission was good, they ended up catching him and Obi-wan was happy.

The next day was training again for Anakin and Y/n. This time it felt so intimate, Anakin's touch would linger far longer than needed and he found any reason to touch her. It had her head spinning by the time they were done.

It apparently didn't stop at training either, Anakin would lead her everywhere with a secure hand on her lower back. He didn't comment on it so she decided not to either, in fear of him retracting the hand.

When he wasn't near, her thoughts were even more out of hand. Now, when she met up with him she was shyer than normal. A part of him regretted the kiss, he enjoyed it but he worried it bothered her. That night he made his way to her room, he wanted to talk about it without anything hearing.

And just like last time he heard her thoughts, here he was again. This time it seemed like she was already in the middle of her fantasizing. Before he could understand what she was thinking about, he knocked on the door.

It opened, the first thing he noticed was her big doe eyes staring up at him curiously.

“Master, what are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” He asked, clearing his throat.

She nodded and he stepped inside.

The second he was all the way in he could feel the waves of want and desire once more, but this time they were all around him and it was hard to speak. Anakin swallowed, looking into her eyes as he began. “I wanted to apologize for what happened during the mission, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

She shakes her head quickly, “No No, it’s not that it made me uncomfortable. It was..” She pauses as she sits down on the edge of her bed. “It was my first kiss.” She flinches, she was always teased for not having kissed anyone while she was there.

He gulps this time, he can’t deny the feeling of pride that grew in him.

He sat beside her, contemplating his words carefully.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take that away from you.”

She turns to look at him, the only light in the room shining from her small lamp on her nightstand brushed against his face, making his features soft.

“Don’t be sorry, I, um.” She stops herself before continuing, fearful of her words.

Her master eyes her, “You what?” He speaks through the force, gaze narrowing at her sputtering.

“I enjoyed it.”

They both stare at each other, his eyebrows furrow as he watches her face. Y/n watches the inner turmoil that’s present on his as a lock of his hair falls in front of his eyes. A hand comes up to her wrist, it glides upward, over her neck, and up to her cheek. It cradles her face as his resolve snaps. This kiss has purpose, he hopes she can feel it. The way their lips brush against each other is erotic and she can’t possibly hold in the small moan that’s threatening to spill.

The jedi pulls away slightly to eye her, his mouth is parted as he takes in everything she’s silently offering. His breaths fans over her face and it sets her nerves on fire.

The second kiss is full of lust and want, his gloved hand finds her hip before he decides they’re not nearly as close as he would like. The hand on her cheek slides down to her chest and gently pushes her to lay on her back, though, his lips never leave hers. He situates himself on top of her and pulls away farther than before. Gazing at her lidded eyes and soon the pout settling over her lips.

“My prettiest girl.” He sighs out, reaching up to run a nail up and down her neck.

“Master.” She begins.

“Anakin.” He corrects as the nail on her neck drifts down enough to pull her shirt away from her collarbones.

“Anakin..” She obeys, even if it feels foreign on her tongue. “I need you.”

“I know…you should really keep your thoughts to yourself yknow that, Angel?” The name has her eyes widening and a smirk gracing his face.

“How could you think I wouldn’t find out about all the dirty little fantasies you have about me?” He switches hands so his gloved one is pressed next to her shoulder on the bed keeping him upright, while the other one meets her hip again to push the fabric of her shirt upward, Anakin eyes the newly exposed skin and tugs at his lip.

“M’sorry.” She breathes as a fierce blush settles over her face.

“No need to be sorry…” He drags his blunt nails up her torso as he drags her shirt up, goosebumps tickle her flesh as a result. Even more so when he leans down to hover over her, now, exposed breasts. It doesn’t take long for her nipples to harden partly from being out in the open air, but mostly because of him.

The Padawan holds her breath as he nears the mounds of skin, it starts with dizzying kisses up the valley between them and then continues with him teasingly licking around one of her nipples. She gasps, her bottom lip caught under her front teeth harshly.

Anakin takes a full nipple into his mouth and sighs as the sounds he knew would sound so pretty, leave her. Especially the ones where she moans his name in that breathy voice of hers. Her back arches and it sends her breasts even further into his face. He removes his mouth for a moment, only to envelope the other nipple and graze his teeth ever so slightly against it, he takes in her gasps and whines and they all go straight to his ever tightening pants.

He pulls away again, this time to lean up and kiss her. Messily their lips slide together, he even experimentally brushes her lips with his tongue. But she pulls away, “What are you doing?” She asks curiously out of breath.

“Open your mouth for me, kay?” His gaze goes back and forth between her eyes to her lips as he talks.

They kiss again and he does the same thing, so, she opens her mouth. His skilled tongue licks into her unexpectedly and Y/n moves her hands to his clothed chest for stability, well, mental stability at least. Anakin then sucks her tongue rather harshly and it sends moan after moan into his mouth. He swallows all of them gladly as he feels himself become even more worked up.

He would love to keep kissing her, he honestly thinks he could do it forever, but they must keep going. She whines and chases his lips when he pulls away this time and it has his eyes darkening. The shirt she’s half wearing is thrown somewhere on the floor as he dips down to kiss her stomach, down her belly button and along the waistline of her pajama pants as he hooks his fingers along them, dragging them down slowly.

The pink underwear she’s wearing has a frilly bow on the top and he couldn’t handle it. It was like he was opening up his present on christmas, his little, angelic, present that wants nothing more than to have him degrade her. How could he possibly deny that?

“Such cute panties for someone who’s such a little slut for me. Tell me, Angel, would you let me fuck you anytime I asked? Would you let me fuck you in my speeder? On the holotable in front of everyone?” He skims his lips against the hem of her underwear once more as he eyes her like a predator.

“Yes, yes, would let you touch me wherever you wanted.” She panted out, gripping the sheets beneath her.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you?” He asks, pricking the waistband with his teeth and dragging the offending material down her legs. She couldn’t speak, the sight and the feeling left her speechless and unbelievably wet. As soon as the last of her clothing was gone the smell of her sex was utterly intoxicating, so he did the first thing he thought of. Prying her legs apart and pressing his face against her cunt. Y/n didn’t have time to worry about her being the only naked one, for that she was thankful.

Anakin truly believed he could die happily right now.

“Maker, you smell amazing. Bet you taste even better.” He practically moans into her, the vibrations send jolts of electricity up her spine and it causes her legs to almost close. But the iron grip he has on her didn’t allow for that. Even when he licked up the expanse of her heat and suckled on her clit, her thighs were begging to give out by then. The new feeling of his tongue was addicting, the way he licked into her clenching hole had her head spinning and heart pounding.

“You feeling good, Angel?” He pants against her, opening his eyes to gaze at her already fucked out form. A moan leaves her as she nods. His ungloved hand lets go of her thigh in favor of circling her cunt and pressing his fingers against her hole. She chokes out a moan at the action.

His mouth only leaves her clit to speak as he fills her up, one finger at a time.

“So tight.”

It has her clenching and he hopes he’s able to feel that around his cock. The fire consumes her from the inside out and all she can do is take it.

Y/n’s moans become louder and more frequent, that paired with the clenching she’s doing around his fingers, he assumes she’s going to come. So before she can, he sticks in another finger and scissors them inside of her, coaxing out an orgasm the best he can.

“Come for me, Y/n.”

Her limbs tense up as her eyes clamp shut, said fire is spreading through her, every finger, every fiber. The euphoric feeling is prolonged as much as possible because of his fingers and the mouth still sucking her pulsating clit.

When she comes back down he stands up, gripping his shirt and pulling it from his body. In her frazzled state, she eyes his stomach, his abs more specifically. His chest too, the way it heavily falls up and down from his deep breathing is hypnotic. His belt is pulled off, and soon he’s unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down and off. She can easily see the outline of him through his briefs and the fire that was just released in her seems to have come back.

Anakin watches her face closely as he slips down his briefs and kicks them off. Her gaze on his cock doesn’t last long he notices, her eyes fall to his hand that’s currently gliding up her calf. He can’t help but chuckle.

“You really like my hands, don’t you? Even the metal one?” He smiles at the end.

She nods shyly.

So he takes a detour, his hand comes up to her face, traces her jaw, then traces her bottom lip with his thumb. Her breathing changed almost immediately at that. He wonders something for a moment, so he trails his hand downward, ghosting over the base of her throat. She bites her lip again as he loosely grips her neck.

“So pretty with my hand around your neck. Are you ready for me, Angel?” He mumbles. She finds it hard to speak, the intense eye contact is quite distracting and intimidating.

But she finally gets out a “Yes, Anakin.” After he swats her thigh with his metal hand.

The hand around her neck doesn’t budge as he settles in between her thighs and wraps a leg around his waist. He watches his tip tap her clit and tease her until she’s whining. He can’t hold up the act for long though, he feels like he might explode if he doesn’t push inside of her soon. The initial stretch doesn’t feel good, even if Anakin is pushing in rather slow, it still has her flinching.

“It’ll feel good, Angel, don’t worry. Just wait.” He tells her, concerned. She nods in return, holding onto his waist loosely. He keeps his slow pace until he fully bottoms out, he’s sure he could come right now. Her walls latch onto him like a vice and she’s so, so, wet for him. “Fuck, Angel. So wet and tight for me.” He praises breathily.

She clenches at that and it has his brain short circuit. All he wants to do is move, move until he comes inside her, but he waits until she’s ready.

“You can m-move.”

The first experimental thrust is intoxicating for the both of them. He was right, it does feel good. Just him inside her feels good. Every vein and ridge is felt and she makes note of each and every one of them. Another thing she notes is how deep he is, she swears she can feel him in her stomach at this point.

It doesn’t take him long to set a good starting pace, one that isn’t too rough but still satisfying.

“Anakin, you feel so good.” She moans, hips absentmindedly raising to meet his thrusts. The hand around her throat becomes tighter as he groans out.

“Flip over.” He says all of a sudden, pulling out. Her reaction time isn’t very good right now so she furrows her eyebrows. Far too slow for Anakin, so he takes it upon himself to manhandle her onto her stomach. She lays flat against the bed as he forces open her legs again. This time when he pushes in, the stretch is delicious. It has her pushing her ass against him, “Already such a slut for me.” He mumbles as he hovers over her back.

One particular harsh thrust has a loud, pornographic, moan leaving her kiss-swollen lips. He narrows his eyes as his flesh hand presses into her spine, moving upward until it reaches the back of her neck. It swivels to the front, lingers over her windpipe, and drags up to her mouth, pressing firmly against her lips. So firm that her head is lifted into his shoulder as he begins to jackhammer his hips into her.

Leaning down to her ear, he begins, “Such a perfect cunt for me, Angel. Gonna fuck you any time I get the chance.” He groans, grinding into her before thrusting again. The moans leaving her vibrate his hand and he can’t help but thrust faster.

Her brain feels like goo and she hopes he doesn’t ask her anything right now. But, of course.

“Do you like my cock, Angel?” He asks as he moves his hand for her to answer. She only whines and nods, hoping that’ll suffice. But it doesn’t. He smirks as he leans in again, “Use you words.” His tone has goosebumps prickling her neck as she tries to muster up something to say.

“Mm, I- I love it, mm, Ani.” The nickname gets him where it hurts, he can feel how close he is. So, he abandons her mouth and moves his hand in between her body and the bed, circling her throbbing clit.

His metal hand grips the back of her head and pushes it into her sheets, keeping her quiet as he continues abusing her leaking cunt with his cock and fingers. Just as he begins to feel his orgasm coming even closer she babbles and moans, “Ani, I’m, oh my god.” As she clenches around him sporadically. “Good girl, come around me.” She does just that and it pushes him to the edge immediately, his hips stutter and his groans fill the room, he pushes to the hilt as he comes inside of her. Filling her up until it’s leaking out.

They both pant as he pulls out and she turns around. Anakin places a kiss on her lips, once, twice, three times before speaking, “You did so good for me, Y/n. So proud of you.”

“Thank you, Master.” She lazily smiles.

[asdfghjklmals]

LOVE AT FIRST FIGHT✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. slowburn. i don't usually go for slowburn, but you have to know oc gojo girlfriend's background if you want to understand oc gojo girlfriend's au... WORD COUNT: 11.2k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, enemies to almost lovers troupe. lovesick!gojo, lovesick!oc. mutual pining.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend has finally convinced her clan to let her attend school in tokyo, but the real reason her clan elders decided to let her go was so that she could meet the one and only, satoru gojo. if you want to skip to see gojo without knowing oc gojo girlfriend's background, he appears at [at the sparring field]. AUTHOR'S NOTE: oc gojo girlfriend was inspired by katara's water bending from ATLA and the main antagonist in the cardcaptor sakura movie, madoushi who controls water and spirit birds in ribbons. i tried to think about how jogo uses fire as a curse to write her abilities. oc gojo girlfriend's clan practices elemental cursed techniques (fire, earth, electricity, etc.) and her brother is named touya (inspired by cardcaptor sakura), and i chose water because i love water as an element. enjoy learning about oc gojo girlfriend and reading how these two idiots met 💚 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

intro

"i think having (y/n) (l/n) here in tokyo would be a good idea." masamichi yaga proposed to the principal of kyoto, yoshinobu gakuganji.

"the (l/n) clan has requested that she attend school in kyoto so that she can be close by. they are from osaka." principal gakuganji said. he honestly didn't care whether or not you attended tokyo or kyoto. because your grandparents were part of the jujutsu society group of elders and your family had a lineage of jujutsu sorcerers, you were automatically admitted either way.

"i'll speak with the clan head. it's not every day you get a water and ice cursed technique user from the (l/n) clan with their elemental cursed techniques. i hear this one can be considered a special grade."

the principal was surprised, "you want three special grades in your class? sounds like a handful. you do know that these special grade students will be a lot of responsibility... right?"

"she is the only special grade in her family. the last person in the (l/n) clan to have the element of water was over 400 years ago, just like the gojo clan with the six eyes and limitless. i think satoru and (y/n) would be good partners. maybe they can learn a thing or two from each other." yaga laughed at the thought.

"maybe you can have her reel in that damn satoru gojo while you're at it." principal gakuganji stressed.

satoru gojo was a troublemaker and he was known for defying the elders. he could get away with anything just because of his cursed technique, he was a gojo after all. yaga sighed at that fact, he already knew that satoru was a handful, but he was one of the only people besides shoko ieri and suguru geto that could get through to him. he had hoped that you would be able to relate with satoru since you had similar backgrounds of being "special".

"you can try to convince the (l/n) clan to let her join tokyo. i will not convince them otherwise. to take on three special grades... you're looking forward to your promotion as principal aren't you?" gakuganji teased yaga.

"it's what i've been working on since i became a teacher." the teacher got up from his seat and bid the kyoto principal farewell.

yaga took his phone out of his pocket and dialed a familiar number. it was your brother, touya.

touya was one of yaga's very first students when he started teaching. he was known for his eletric cursed technique and he excelled in close combat fighting. your brother was known as a very powerful grade 1 sorcerer in osaka after graduating from tokyo jujutsu high.

"sensei, to what do i owe the pleasure?" touya laughed as he picked up the phone from his favorite sensei.

yaga started his small talk, "touya, how are you?"

he was going to have to butter him up in order to get him to agree to let you attend school here in tokyo.

"i'm doing great. my sister mentioned that she was going to be attending kyoto jujutsu high school, but i heard that you were still teaching at tokyo."

"that's right. i currently have 3 first year students. do you think she would be interested in training here with your good ol' sensei?"

yaga hoped that touya would take the bait.

"our clan wanted her to stay close to osaka which is why kyoto was the first choice... but knowing my sensei would be her sensei as well and that you have 2 other special grades... that makes me feel reassured," touya rambled. he wanted to make sure that you would be safe at whichever school you attended, "so sensei, tell me about your students."

"shoko ieri, she's studying in the medical field so she can be our in-house doctor. she is a healer who specializes in reversed cursed energy, a natural may i say. suguru geto is one of my special grades and he's able to manipulate cursed spirits. he's very rational and calm. satoru gojo—"

"—oh, the gojo clan," touya interrupted, "i hear the gojo kid is the first in 400 years to hold the six eyes and limitless."

"yes, you're right. which is why i think your sister would fit right in with this year’s class."

"sensei—you know my family has practiced elemental cursed energy for over a thousand years. the last time someone specialized in water and ice was 400 years ago. i wonder if the gojo kid and my little sister are reincarnations of the ancestors from those 400 years. you know that story, right?" touya asked yaga. the history of your clan was not known to many.

"that is exactly why i want (y/n) and satoru to train together."

touya laughed and teased his former sensei, "are you sure you aren't trying to play matchmaker to recreate history?"

"i think (y/n) could teach satoru a thing or two." yaga laughed at the thought of satoru gojo getting his ass handed by a girl.

"i'll talk to my sister and our clan elders. i think having her attend tokyo would be a great idea—send me the admissions paperwork." touya smiled at the thought of you attending his alma mater.

hook, reel, and sink em', masamichi yaga grinned. he just got your admission to tokyo jujutsu high.

osaka, japan

"hey sis!" your brother called out into your clan's dojo.

you continued to do what you were doing, attention never swaying. "what do you want, touya? i'm busy."

you were balancing three ice shards with your cursed technique. touya watched as you focused on multiplying the shards by 3's. 3, 6, 9, 12... you threw the ice shards forward into the circular targets placed ahead of you. you sighed and the ice shattered.

"nicely done—just last year, you could barely summon 6 shards." touya complimented you as he patted your back.

"did you hear back from principal gakuganji if i can attend kyoto jujutsu high?" you asked your brother with a gleam in your eye, you were so excited to finally not be homeschooled. you wanted to get out of your clan's estate. as a matter of fact, you were tired of your clan elders dictating your every move.

"i actually have better news—remember when you used to come visit me in tokyo?"

when touya was a student, you would visit him at tokyo jujutsu high all the time. it was the highlight of your childhood summers.

"yes..." you leered at him, eyes full of suspicion.

"remember my sensei? the one that can make cursed corpses?"

"yes! he was the one that fixed my doll when i was seven!"

"bingo! sensei is still teaching there. he wanted to know if you wanted to be one of his students!" touya said excitedly. he wanted to make sure that your decision was to attend tokyo too.

"tokyo is pretty far from home, touya... do you think the elders would approve? it took me forever to get permission from grandma and grandpa to even attend kyoto." you asked with concern in your voice.

touya just laughed. he never took anything as serious as you. for as long as you could remember, touya was your cool and easygoing older brother. touya was 10 years older than you, and he ended up being like a father figure to you when your parents passed away.

you hoped to be just as strong as your brother someday. for the past 10 years, he had been taking care of you along with your grandparents, training you, and making sure you grew up with a good heart. the clan elders did give him a lot of shit for giving you anything you wanted, but you were automatically spoiled since you were the one that wielded the element of water, the first in 400 years in your clan.

you knew you were strong, and your amount of cursed energy was almost infinite due to water being everywhere. you were even starting to be on par with touya in terms of skill and power at your young age.

"i'm pretty sure the elders can't say no to you. you are their little water princess after all," your brother teased, "—and i'm also 100% confident that your cool and awesome older brother, touya (l/n), is great at getting things his way."

"i hear kyoto is prettier, but if you really think i should go to tokyo, i trust you."

your brother held your hand, squeezing it with reassurance. touya winked at you and said, "alright, lil' sis. we're going to tokyo."

first day at tokyo jujutsu high

touya had spent all morning getting your admissions paperwork ready while you had spent the last three days packing up your stuff.

"ready to go little one?" your brother asked as he carried two large suitcases. you nodded at him and smiled.

you said goodbye to your grandparents and the rest of the clan elders as they saw you and touya off. to your surprise, they let you go to tokyo instead of kyoto. you weren't going to ask touya what he said to convince them, you just went along with it.

when you were only 5 years old, the clan elders started to see glimpses of you playing with water. during dinners and lunches, your water cup would overflow with water whenever the other kids would steal your treats, making you upset. when you had temper tantrums, large pools of water would start to surround you. they even noticed that you could heal yourself and others with reversed cursed energy. it was then that the clan realized that you were a water cursed technique user.

using the technique was extremely rare and it only came around once in a blue moon in your clan. the reason that water was so powerful was because there is always water (or moisture) around. curses form around negative energy, and your cursed energy was so strong because water is involved with negative connotations like drownings, natural disasters like floods and tsunamis, and just the simple fear of water. the cursed energy produced was almost infinite. your technique took a lot of practice to control, especially with the input and output. without control, you could get overwhelmed easily. whenever you overdid it, you felt extreme waves of exhuastion.

"if you're wondering about what i said to convince grandma and gramps, i just told them you'd be training with the gojo kid with the six eyes." touya said.

he knew you were curious about that conversation with the elders, but you wouldn't ask. it was like he could always read your mind.

"the gojo kid?" you laughed, "what do you mean by that?"

touya started his history lesson, "the gojo clan. they hold the most powerful jujutsu in history. their clan sits at the top of the big 3 families."

"i see. and the other families? the zen'nin clan and the kamo clan?"

"correct. the zen'nin clan known for their ten shadows technique and projection technique, as the kamo clan is known for blood manipulation."

you nodded your head as you gazed out of the car window. touya turned to you and said softly, "you, my sweet sister, are a threat to the kamo family. that's why the kamos and our clan do not get along."

touya had explained to you that because you could control water... blood doesn't fall far from the tree. (a/n: blood blending from avatar anyone?!) if you really wanted to, you could manipulate blood, but not in the way the kamo clan does. and blood doesn’t do well when it’s within water as it dissolves easily, making it uncontrollable to most blood manipulation users. a water cursed technique user was like a cheat code against the kamo clan.

400 years ago, your ancestor was killed because they were able to control any person's body due to their blood. they were that strong, which made them a threat and a target. it was believed that a member of the kamo clan had murdered your water wielding ancestor, which is why there was tension between the two clans.

after the 5 hour long car ride, your driver pulled into a forest.

"you probably don't remember because you were so young at the time, but the school is actually hidden by master tengen's barrier." touya said.

"oh, the barrier technique, i sensed it a couple miles back." you said nonchalantly.

"i'm sure you did." touya chuckled. you never failed to surprise him with your keen sense of cursed energy.

touya got out of the car and grabbed your bags and luggage. you walked up to the barrier and raised your palm. 12 ice shards appeared and flew towards master tengen's barrier. the ice shards made a perfect rectangle for you and touya to walk through. as you entered the barrier, the shards dissolved and the barrier closed back up again. you saw two black birds swarming around in the sky.

"looks like mei is watching." touya laughed as he recognized the birds.

mei mei was touya's junior, and she was the best in close combat. touya wanted you to train with her since he knew that close combat was your weakness.

you and your brother walked down the cobblestone pathway towards the entrance to the school. it reminded you of home. you looked around and jumped when you heard a loud voice.

"god damn! touya! is that you?!"

you watched as your brother put your bags down and walked over to the large man. he hugged him and introduced you to the one and only, masamichi yaga.

"sensei, this is my little sister, (y/n)."

yaga turned to you and studied you. you had an immense amount of cursed energy, just about the same as suguru geto and satoru gojo.

"(y/n), welcome to tokyo jujutsu high school," he said while shaking your hand, "i'm masamichi yaga, the head of the first years."

"thank you for having me." you said to him as you bowed respectfully. you followed behind him and touya as they talked about the school facilities. you walked passed classrooms, the sparring field, the dojo, the dining hall, and the shared kitchen.

"this will be your room," yaga said while opening the door to an empty room with nothing but an old bed and dusty desk.

at least it had a nice view of the courtyard.

touya cleared his throat, "i know it's not much, (y/n), but we can move some of your stuff from back home to make it... better—" he was trying to be supportive, he patted your back, "—or, if you want, we can go to shibuya and you can pick out whatever you want to decorate your new room."

you kept your mouth shut as you didn't have anything nice to say about your room. this wasn't the life you were used to. maybe you made the wrong decision about leaving the estate. no—you couldn't go back home. you wanted to experience more in life. you swallowed your pride and nodded with a fake smile.

"next door is shoko ieri's room. she will be your dorm mate. this area is for the girls and the dorms across the hall are for the boys. suguru geto and satoru gojo are in the other hall. those are my first year kids." yaga informed you and touya.

"speaking of the kids, where are they?" touya asked while looking around the dorms.

"i'm sure they're out wreaking havoc somewhere. they're about to get back from a mission, it’s almost lunch time." yaga sighed.

touya turned to you and put his arm around your shoulder, reassuring you. "you're gonna be great, sis."

you faked another smile at him.

"so, sensei. what grade are you giving (y/n)?" touya asked curiously. when he first started at the school, he was already graded as a grade 2 sorcerer.

"the elders and i have already discussed that she would be classified as special grade."

"why? cause i can wipe out towns with floods and control people's blood?" you muttered under your breath.

you knew about the rumors that were spread of you. you were also quite sensitive about the topic of grades. you knew from the start that you'd be a special grade sorcerer. hell, they'd probably give you a white uniform since your powers were still somewhat unstable.

"(y/n)." touya called your name sternly, warning you.

"it's okay, touya." yaga patted his shoulder, "i can explain, (y/n). we grade jujutsu sorcerers on how much cursed energy they can output. not only that, but also on how well they can control their cursed energy. sure, clan influence and their cursed techniques come into play as well."

you listened to your future sensei, but looked out the window at the sparring field, avoiding eye contact with him and your brother.

"touya has told me that you've been working on your cursed technique since you were a child. you're now 17, almost an adult. that's ten plus years of using such powerful cursed energy. if you really wanted to, you could probably beat your brother in a spar and flood our entire field." yaga joked.

touya laughed nervously, "you might be going a little far there, sensei."

you turned to your brother, "what? you don't think i can beat you in a spar?"

your blood started to boil. everyone always treated you as if you were a fragile baby. you didn't think your brother did too—at least not until today.

"(y/n), no one said that." touya said calmly. he didn't want to upset you.

"let's test her on the sparring field." yaga suggested.

touya glanced at him with panic in his eyes and chuckled, "sensei... you're gonna get me killed."

at the sparring field

"you ready lil' sis?" touya called out to you from across the field.

you saw touya hold up his palms upright. you could sense his electric cursed energy running through his fingers. you hated when he would spark you to wake you up in the morning or to get you to behave. you knew it was the least amount of electricity touya would output though. touya could summon thunderstorms and bolts of lightning if he wanted to. his close combat skills paralyzed people and curses, and even his domain expansion was terrifying.

you swirled your hands and 12 shards of ice appeared. the shards floated behind you, ready to dive forward at your command. you focused on touya, you could tell by the way he shifted his body and the way his blood rushed to his palms. touya was going to summon his shikigami, raijin.

raijin was the japanese god of thunder, lightning and storms, and his shikigami was one of touya's techniques. (a/n: this also a pokemon reference to raikou hehe)

you summoned your own shikigami, the spirit birds—two white iridescent birds very similar to mei mei's black crows. if spirit birds were used offensively, they are able to wrap around the target and burn them. you personally liked to use them for spying.

while raijin and your spirit birds kept each other busy, you noticed that touya wasn't in front of you anymore.

damn it.

you let your guard down and you didn't catch that touya had moved.

"boo." touya whispered behind you, attempting to knock you off your feet. you shielded yourself with a large body of water, knocking him back and sending him flying across the field from the water pressure. you threw all 12 ice shards at him.

on his back, touya flipped back on his feet and caught his balance. right before the shards hit his face, he zapped them with his cursed technique. the shards fell to the ground, dissolving into the grass.

touya called out to you, "that was a close one, sis! let's kick it up a notch. domain expansion: electric terrain."

the thing about domain expansions in spars was that you could lay out your domain, but you couldn't attack your opponent with it. this would show who could lay out their domain the fastest, and who had the most refined domain.

touya's domain was a large steel room. you could feel the electricity in the air. you could see and feel static.

you called out your own domain, "domain expansion: iridescent ocean."

the walls of touya’s steel room started to fall as water started to cave in. you knew your domain was much more refined than touya's. as water filled the domain, you saw touya grin. he started swimming towards the bottom of your domain to avoid the blinding lights at the top. if your opponent tried to swim towards the top of your domain, they would be blinded and immobilized, giving you the sure-hit. but if your opponent swam to the bottom, they would surely drown and be crushed by the water pressure.

just as you were about to form more ice shards, a burst of cursed energy cracked your domain from the outside. your domain had collapsed. it sounded like glass shattering as water flooded the sparring field.

you jumped down onto the ground and immediately formed a water barrier around you to protect yourself from whatever just attacked you and touya from the outside.

"somebody’s feisty." an unfamiliar voice stated.

"who the hell are you?!" you asked, "why did you break my domain, you idiot?! i was just about to win!"

you looked up at the boy who just broke your domain. he had tousled, frosty white hair and was wearing black circular sunglasses. just behind his sunglasses, you could see big cerulean blue eyes with long white lashes. he had a lollipop in his mouth. he was actually really cute—wait a minute… why were you thinking about his looks at this very moment?

"who the hell am i? i'm satoru gojo. who are you? and i'm not an idiot!" he retorted, pointing his lollipop at you.

"(y/n) (l/n), meet satoru gojo." yaga interrupted with a sigh.

you scoffed in disbelief, "that's the gojo kid you were talking about, touya? god, what an idiot!"

no one had ever broken your domain before. no one ever attempted to or dared.

"sorry, touya. looks like satoru might have saved you from drowning." the teacher teased his former student.

"sensei, i could sense this crazy cursed energy all the way from shibuya," satoru said sarcastically, "i just had to make sure you were safe."

yaga ignored him and turned to the other student that was with him, "suguru, let's all head to the dining hall and have lunch. i want you to meet your newest classmate."

satoru and suguru looked at each other with wide eyes and then at you. they said out loud in unison, "new classmate?"

your emerald green eyes glared at that stupidly handsome blue eyed idiot named satoru gojo. the classmate next to him, suguru geto, had a man bun and a couple strands of hair in front of his face, framing his jaw. he was smiling at you. it seemed like you're going to have a lot of fun at this school, you thought to yourself sarcastically.

yaga led the way to the dining hall from the sparring field. you walked next to touya as suguru and satoru followed behind you two. you noticed that touya had a cut on his cheek.

"touya, did i cut you?" you asked, surprised that one of your shards actually landed a hit on your brother. he wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. he saw the blood.

"i guess you did, sis." touya chuckled. you hovered your hand next to the cut on your brother's face, a thin layer of water formed on the cut, healing the small wound.

"did she just heal her brother?" satoru whispered to suguru, his hands shoved in his pockets as he walked side by side with his bestfriend.

"seems like it," suguru said while smiling, "she seems very powerful, satoru. that was using a reversed cursed technique."

"i guess," satoru grumbled with dissatisfaction, "not as strong as us though." he playfully punched suguru's arm with his left hand.

satoru was surprised that someone as young as you could also use reversed cursed energy. he was working on honing in on his own reversed cursed technique to be able to heal himself. the only person he knew that could heal was shoko. you looked behind at him and caught his gaze. he quickly adverted his eyes to the ground and shoved his hands back in his pockets.

at the dining hall

"welcome back, losers. lunch is almost ready." shoko called out. yaga cleared his throat as the two boys snickered. shoko didn't realize that you and touya were also present.

"shoko, we have guests for lunch today." yaga announced.

the female sorcerer turned around and blushed, "sorry—uh, we're having sukiyaki beef!"

"shoko, i'd like you to meet your newest classmate and dorm mate. (y/n) (l/n)."

"no way, you're from the (l/n) clan? i thought your family only homeschools in osaka!" she said with excitement. shoko was glad to have a female classmate.

"my brother studied here, so i wanted to follow his footsteps! and i was also getting tired of my clan elders dictating my every move." you said jokingly, your eyes hidden behind your cheeky smile.

satoru stiffened up at your comment and peered over at you and shoko. he wondered if you had the same mindset about the elders as he did. they were just old fashioned geezers to him. he was the type to defy orders and challenge the higher ups. he knew they couldn't do anything to reprimand him because well... he was satoru gojo. being as young as he is, he had some pull being the gojo's family pride, holding the six eyes and coming from the most powerful jujutsu family. he was now curious about your family and what you thought about the higher ups.

"we're going to have so much fun! being the only girl is so exhausting, especially having to deal with gojo and geto." shoko said, rolling her brown eyes. she grabbed your hand and you jumped with excitement, "i've never had a dorm mate before!"

"i guess it's time for a formal introduction," yaga said, clearing his throat, "(y/n), this is suguru geto. suguru is a special grade sorcerer and he can manipulate curses. next to him is satoru gojo from the gojo family. satoru is known for having both limitless and the six eyes, both inherited from his family. and lastly, shoko ieiri. she is studying to be our in-house doctor. these three are my first year students."

touya introduced you to the students, "kids, this is my sister, (y/n). she is the first in the family in 400 years to use a water and ice cursed technique in the (l/n) clan."

suguru smiled at you, "that's amazing—you're just like satoru. he's the first in 400 years to hold both six eyes and limitless."

you and satoru made eye contact, glaring at each other. you sensed some sort of rivalry—no, you weren't even sure what the feeling was. your heart raced as he looked away from you, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"come now, let's have lunch." yaga herded everyone to the dining table.

you listened as shoko, suguru, and satoru talked about their last mission and how satoru got injured. he was caught off guard without his infinity. satoru had mentioned that his clan elders wanted him to work on having infinity on at all times, but he would get too tired and stop halfway throughout the day or he would only have it on when he was out on missions.

you wanted to stir up some trouble today and get revenge on the white haired sorcerer that broke your domain. underneath the dining table, you twirled your fingers to control the bowl of miso soup sitting in front of satoru. the soup swished into his lap as he jumped up from his seat. miso soup covering his pants. his infinity was off. you laughed smugly to yourself.

confused, satoru muttered, "what the hell was that?"

you quickly looked back at your plate, pretending to be interested in what your bother and yaga-sensei were talking about. you felt a small jolt of electricity jabbed into your side.

"behave." touya scolded you.

you glared at your brother, rolling your eyes and turned to look back at your new classmates. suguru smiled at you and then at satoru.

"seems like there's finally someone who's able to give satoru gojo a run for his money." suguru laughed. his smile was just like yours, cheeky, and his warm eyes disappeared behind his smile.

satoru peered at his bestfriend, "what do you mean by that?"

"(y/n), are you done eating? let's go back to the dorms! i can help you unpack!" shoko grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the kitchen. she didn't want to be stuck with dish washing duty.

suguru and satoru watched you two run out of the dining hall.

"you do know that (y/n) is the one that spilled the soup on you, right?" suguru teased his bestfriend.

"nah, she can't catch me off guard like that." satoru muttered. there was no way he was bested by some random girl who just joined the school. even though he initially thought you were really cute, there was no chance he'd let someone like you get the best of him.

"i think you're underestimating her." suguru grinned as satoru stuffed his mouth with more rice.

at the girls' dorm

"so what did you do to get on satoru gojo's bad side?" shoko asked you out of the blue.

she was helping you put your clothing into your drawers as you unpacked all your vanity items on your empty desk.

"he got on my bad side," you answered, "he broke my domain expansion when i was sparring with my brother. shoko, i was about to win too."

"i'd like to see you and gojo battle it out on who's domain is stronger." she giggled, "so far, gojo's the best and fastest with laying out his domain.

you changed the subject. you didn't want to talk about the cute blue-eyed sorcerer anymore. he was a pain in your ass already.

"so are all of you the same age?"

"yeah, we're all 17. what about you?"

"i'm 17 too. i'm turning 18 on november 11th!" (a/n: yes, oc gojo girlfriend is a scorpio lol)

"that's coming up soon! we'll have to celebrate! i can't wait to take you to shibuya and shinjuku to show you all our favorite hang out spots!"

satoru and suguru walked down the hallways of the dorms after cleaning the dining hall. satoru could hear yours and shoko's voices down the hall.

he wondered what kind of person you were. he wanted to know what kind of things you liked, what you didn't like, and what were your ticks. he was interested in you. satoru had never wanted to get to know a person more than he did you.

"you should try to be her friend, satoru. she's only here for the same reason we all are." suguru lectured.

"why do you have to be the angel sitting on my shoulder?" gojo asked with a hint of vexation in his tone. "i'll try being nice i guess..."

later that night

earlier shoko had mentioned that if you needed anything or if you were hungry, the dining hall was open for the students at all times. she had retreated to her room for the night as she needed to study for her upcoming medical tests.

your stomach growled. you were hungry again after all the unpacking you did. you looked in the mirror that hung over your door. you were in your pajamas—a green oversized t-shirt and gray shorts. your black hair was in a high messy bun with white ribbons tied into a bow. you put on your slippers and walked down the hallway to the dining hall in search of something to eat.

"what are you doing up this late?"

you jumped at his voice, whispering to yourself, "god, you scared me."

you turned back to the pantry, ignoring him—the cute blue eyed sorcerer. you filled a cup noodle with hot water.

that damn satoru gojo.

he was leaning against the door frame of the dining hall's entrance, arms folded with disappointment in your lack of reaction.

satoru was wearing a white shirt that hung low enough to show off his collarbones and broad shoulders. his gray sweatpants emphasized how tall he was, he must have been more than six feet tall. you noticed that he didn't have his sunglasses on anymore.

"so... you didn't answer my question. what are you doing?"

"i'm hungry." you answered his question with attitude, "what are you? the kitchen police?"

you looked over to see him sitting at the dining table across from where you were standing. his arms were still crossed, fingers drumming on his right bicep. he grinned while he studied you and it made you nervous. you felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest.

scoffing, satoru chastised you, "you know, if you eat cup noodles this late at night, you're going to wake up with a puffy face."

you held your head high and turned to look away from him, eyes closed. "that's the price i'm willing to pay."

you were about to grab your cup noodle, but satoru was swift and quick. he grabbed your noodles, mixed it up, and took a large bite.

"honestly, i was a little hungry too since someone spilled my soup earlier. thanks for this." he took another large bite as your jaw dropped in disbelief. he was so arrogant—and hot. but you weren't going to say that. he already had an ego.

you rolled your eyes at him and sat down across from him. "so are you ever going to give back my noodles? make your own if you want more."

"sure," satoru passed you back your cup, "the chicken flavor is my favorite. good choice."

you looked at him and then into your cup. there was exactly one bite left. you sighed and kissed your teeth in annoyance. "why are you here? i thought i was on your bad side."

satoru was taken aback, "you're not on my bad side... i just wanted to get to know you more. since were going to be partners and all..."

you put down your cup noodle. there was nothing but broth left now.

"well, what do you want to know about me then?" you questioned him.

"well... what are you hobbies, i guess?"

"i don't really have any." you lied. your brain wasn't thinking straight. you definitely had hobbies. you liked to write, go shopping, and go to coffee shops.

"oh come on—everyone has hobbies."

"okay then, what are your hobbies?" you questioned him back.

"easy. i don't have any hobbies because i can do pretty much anything. i try not to get too involved in things."

he was so full of himself, almost impossible. you looked into his eyes. in this lighting, his eyes were as blue as the ocean.

"what? cat got your tongue? impressed with my amazing skills?" he teased.

you rolled your eyes at him, "so, you think you're perfect then?

grinning, satoru chimed. "you said it, not me."

you got up from your seat to dump the rest of the broth down the sink. you washed your chopsticks and leaned against the counter, looking at him. you studied his body language, he was more open now. he sat down comfortably in the chair across from you, legs spread out, hands behind his head.

"i like you, (y/n). you're actually not too bad."

"what is that supposed to mean?" you felt your cheeks turn red.

no, there was no way he was making you blush right now.

you sat back down in front of him, leaning forward on your elbows, your hands cupping your chin. was this satoru gojo’s idea of flirting?

he ignored you and matched your body language, leaning forward, inches away from your face, asking you another question, "so tell me, (y/n), how was it growing up in osaka with the mighty (l/n) clan?"

you leaned back and broke his gaze, folding your arms and pursing your lips, "it was very... confining." you admitted about your childhood.

"what do you mean?" satoru questioned your answer.

"my family is very overprotective of me because i'm the first water user in 400 years. my brother had to convince my clan elders to let me attend school here."

he kept digging, "i see, how did he convince them?"

"you're so nosy, satoru." you giggled, "he said i'd be training with the gojo kid."

and that was the first time satoru heard you laugh—it was like music to his ears. he wanted to hear you laugh again.

he looked back at you and grinned, teasing you, "i feel like i'm being used."

"anymore questions?"

"yeah, what exactly is your cursed technique?"

"i can heal people and myself. i can shoot out shards of ice. i can use water at different pressures and amounts. i can create a protective shield with water too."

"show me." satoru challenged you.

"give me something that you really like, that you would hate for someone to steal from you." you grinned at him.

you watched him head to the fridge to grab a piece of kikufuku.

"don't drop it... it's my favorite one." he placed the kikufuku in your hand.

you held out your hands towards him, "okay, so now, try to take it from me."

"you're kidding. that's a piece of cake." satoru scoffed at you.

you anticipated his speed as satoru appeared behind you and attempted to grab the kikufuku from your hand. a wall of water blocked him from reaching the sweet treat.

"you can't get past my barrier." you said smugly.

"i can totally get past your water wall, (y/n). i just don't want to right now, i might wreck the dining hall." he laughed.

you looked at him as you backed away from his reach. you drew down your barrier with a wave of your hand. you attempted to give satoru back his kikufuku, but he grabbed your hand and used your fingers to pop the doughy treat into his mouth instead. you gulped, heart racing again.

you changed the subject. "i can heal people too. i heard you got injured on your last mission. can i see?"

"you don't have to do that, (y/n)... shoko can fix me up in the morning."

"satoru, let me show you what 10 years of training looks like." you laughed—and there was your contagious laugh again. there was no way satoru could say no to you. he finished chewing his kikufuku and paused. he eventually took off his shirt to show you his cut on his chest.

"all you had to do was tell me you wanted me to take off my shirt." satoru teased. he laughed while you turned red again. he did have a very nice body—but that was besides the point. you reached your hand out, but stopped short of touching his injury. you couldn't actually touch him.

"so this is the infinity i've heard so much about." you blushed while laughing to yourself.

"whoops, sorry. i'm in the process of training my infinity right now." satoru temporarily let down is infinity to let you touch him. you put your hand on his chest, focusing reversed cursed energy into his wound.

"is this your way of getting to touch me?" satoru continued to poke fun at you.

"maybe."

if you weren't so nervous, you could've sworn you heard his heart racing—or maybe it was just the sound of yours.

water started to surround satoru's wound and it slowly started to heal. once the cut was healed up, you took a deep breath and exhaled. you felt a wave of exhaustion.

satoru looked at you with concern in his eyes, "you used up a lot of cursed energy today, didn't you?"

you thought about the domain expansion you laid out today and all of your techniques you used. you haven't rested at all since you arrived at the school grounds this morning. you did overextend yourself today.

"i guess you can say that."

satoru grabbed your hand to help you get up from your chair. you noticed that he still hadn't turned back on his infinity.

"i guess i have a personal healer now," satoru smiled, "i'm working on using reversed cursed energy to heal myself. i was going to practice that later, but you healed my cut for me. thanks (y/n)."

"you're welcome, satoru… uhm, i should probably get back to my dorm to get some rest." you said shyly. he was making you blush, again.

"oh, uh—i'll walk you back to your room. just to make sure you're okay."

your heart skipped a beat. you waited as satoru put his shirt back on. he walked closely next to you, in fear that you would collapse. his six eyes sensed that your cursed energy was weak at the moment. it was a quiet walk back to the girls' dorm. you stopped in front of your room, hand on your doorknob.

with a smile, you voiced your gratitude, "thanks for walking me back to my room. goodnight, satoru."

"and i don't even get invited in?" he joked.

"maybe next time." you laughed.

satoru grinned, "goodnight, (y/n). hope you have sweet dreams of me."

“so cheesy." you flashed him a smile before shutting your door on him. you stood behind it, collecting your thoughts.

why did satoru gojo make you feel so nervous?

one month later

satoru, shoko, and suguru were spending time studying at the pavilions next to the sparring field. except, satoru didn't do any studying. instead, he was stealing glances at you while you were practicing your close combat with mei mei. suguru noticed that satoru wasn't focused on the open book in front of him.

"so, what do you think about (y/n) so far? she's been at the school for a month now." suguru instigated, knowing exactly what his best friend was thinking about.

shoko looked up from her book, "she's really great. she's smart and she's pretty too. we're planning on going to shibuya to buy stuff for her room today after her sparring practice with mei. it's her birthday soon, so i thought we could do something for her."

suguru added in his two cents, "i agree with you, shoko. we've gone on a couple missions together and i've showed her around the school grounds. she's very nice."

satoru was districted and wasn't listening to either of his best friends, instead, he was watching you.

you looked tired. he saw mei mei pat your back after a grueling spar, the both of you walking back to the community showers. you had been working on your close combat for the past month since you've joined jujutsu high.

"hello? earth to satoru? what do you think about (y/n)?" suguru waved his hands in his bestfriend's face. suguru could sense that satoru felt some type of way about you. he was sure shoko could too.

"i think satoru has a crush on (y/n)." shoko said out loud.

"shut up", satoru grunted trying to avoid the subject, "she's not my type."

"whatever! she totally is!" shoko said, punching his arm.

suguru reminded the white haired sorcerer, "you were the one that wanted to show off how great you are at close combat when yaga-sensei told her she'd be training with mei."

satoru rubbed the spot on his arm where shoko punched him and glared off towards the showers again.

"maybe i'll ask (y/n) on a date!" suguru joked while peering at satoru, testing him.

"no way, suguru. you're not her type either." satoru mumbled.

shoko laughed, "seems like gojo already called dibs."

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

after a brutal close combat session, a hot shower was just what you needed. you blew dry your hair in your bathroom as your phone started to ring.

you answered your phone, "hey shoko!"

"hey (y/n)! yaga-sensei just called me and suguru for a mission, so i can't go to shibuya with you today. so sorry about that.” shoko lied. she was never called on missions, but you didn't need to know that.

"that's okay, we can plan a different day if you want."

"no way! your birthday is coming up! i found a replacement for myself!" shoko said proudly.

"you did? who?"

your dorm mate cackled, "the one and only—satoru gojo!"

your heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. you were going to spend a whole day in shibuya with satoru gojo? you started to feel nervous again.

it had been almost a month since the incident in the kitchen. you and satoru talked whenever you had the chance and you would hang out with the trio, but you've never actually spent time alone with satoru. shoko and suguru were always there with you.

"alright, shoko. how much did you have to pay him? did you hold a gun to his head?" you joked.

"no! nothing! he actually volunteered to be my stand in!"

you tried not to sound too excited, "oh, that was nice of him, i guess."

"he'll drop by the dorm in a couple minutes to come grab you. have fun! i can't wait to see what you buy. gojo is the perfect shopping partner!"

shoko hung up immediately. you grumbled, "thanks shoko..."

once you hung up, you went to your dresser to pull out a bright green bodycon dress and white boots. you put on your favorite pink iridescent sunglasses and looked at yourself in the mirror. you tied your hair into cute space buns with white ribbons.

four knocks on your dorm room door caught your attention.

"hey (y/n), are you ready?" satoru called out to you, leaning against the doorframe. he made his way into your room. the white haired sorcerer was wearing a black t-shirt, sunglasses, and jeans. he always looked so chic in his casual clothes.

"yeah, i bought tickets for the bullet train!" you rummaged through your purse for the train tickets.

satoru just laughed at you. you cocked your head to the side, confused on why he was laughing. "why are you laughing...?"

"the bullet train? come on, (y/n)."

you were still confused at why he was laughing. the school was located in the outskirts of tokyo. you would have to take a bullet train to get to shibuya.

"do you have everything you need?" satoru peered at you. you grabbed your bag and nodded at him. "grab onto my arm."

you paused, you got nervous again.

"come on, i don't bite." satoru teased.

you reluctantly grabbed his arm. he clasped his hands together and just like that—you two were in the middle of the air in shibuya.

"did you just teleport us?" you were still clinging to his arm, floating in the air.

"yep. just one of my favorite abilities." satoru said, grinning.

"so you can teleport others? or only if they're holding your arm?"

satoru explained, "i can teleport others, but i have to draw a seal on the ground before i do. if i'm going with them, i don't need the seal."

"do you teleport other girls like this?" you teased the six eyes.

satoru gave you his signature shit-eating grin. you tested him and he liked that about you.

you both jumped down to the ground and started walking towards the bustling shibuya streets. you ran ahead of satoru towards the bright lights, loud music, and the shops. everything was calling your name. you were so excited.

"hey (y/n)," satoru called out to you, "by the way... you look nice."

you smiled at the blushing sorcerer, "thanks, satoru."

satoru gojo had never felt this way about a girl, he wanted to change the subject quickly so he wouldn't turn as red as a tomato.

"so, since you wanted to get some stuff for your room, i figured we can stop by muji."

"wow, the satoru gojo is taking me shopping?"

"consider yourself lucky." satoru retorted.

your released your shikigami birds so that they could monitor the area and enjoy themselves. as you and satoru walked together, you could hear whispers of girls talking about how good looking satoru was, questioning if you two were dating. you could hear girls squealing about satoru all throughout the streets. every corner your turned, it was the same reaction.

"do girls always act like this every time you go out?" you turned to ask satoru, annoyance laced in your tone.

"why? you jealous?" satoru asked.

"no, cause you're the one who has hands on me." you pointed out.

satoru didn't even realize his hand had drifted to the small of your back while he was guiding you through the busy crowd. he just laughed. he loved how feisty you were.

he then thought about the time where he was throwing crumpled paper balls at you in class and how you created a small ice shard to throw back at him discreetly. his infinity caught it, of course—but he loved that fire in you.

"i'm not trying to toot my own horn or anything, but yeah." he said, winking at you. he removed his hand from your lower back, opening the door to the shop, "ladies first."

you mouthed "thanks" to him. as you walked into muji, you immediately felt overwhelmed at the large selection of home goods. satoru trailed behind you as you walked towards the bathroom supplies.

"hey, (y/n), i'm gonna stop by a coffee shop, do you want anything?"

you gave him your usual order, "sure, can i get a vanilla latte with soy milk?"

satoru gave you a thumbs up and turned to leave.

you needed bathroom organization items like a toothbrush holder, acrylic drawers, and organizers. you picked up a couple trays and laundry items as well. this muji store was huge compared to the one in osaka. as you walked through the store, satoru found you again. he held your coffee towards you.

"thanks, satoru." you smiled at him again.

satoru felt his heart racing. your smile was adorable to him. your cheekbones became prominent, your eyes disappeared behind your smile.

‘so cheeky.’ satoru thought to himself.

"no problem, what'dya find?" he asked while peering into your basket.

"just a bunch of bathroom stuff. now, time for the bedroom!" you said, marching towards the bedroom area. satoru followed you around obediently and sipped his coffee quietly. he had a cake pop in his other hand.

"you have a sweet tooth, don't you?"

"i actually started eating sweets to stimulate my brain, but i ended up getting a sweet tooth instead." satoru explained.

"what kind of coffee did you get?"

satoru grinned mischievously, "a pumpkin spice latte."

"how basic," you laughed, "—satoru, what do you think about these sheets?"

you held up a light blue and a light green bedsheet set side by side for him to choose between.

"the green one, it matches your eyes." satoru replied with a mumble, avoiding eye contact with you.

you felt your cheeks heat up, "actually, i don't think i need sheets." you laughed nervously and quickly put the bedsheets back, "—i think i'll get some slippers instead."

after about an hour inside the muji store, you and satoru got in line to pay for your items. satoru went first. you watched the way satoru carried himself. you admired how he was so confident in himself and how he walked with his head held high. he really was the pride and joy of the gojo clan.

"welcome back, satoru!" the employee greeted him, "how have you been?"

satoru smiled at the employee, "hey, i've been greet." he paused and turned to look back at you, "can you ring up her items up with mine?"

"sure thing!"

satoru walked back towards you and grabbed your basket from you. you stuttered and called out to him, "wait—satoru, i can pay for those..." your voice trailing off.

he shrugged, "it's your birthday. i'll pay for it. consider it your birthday present."

"you do know my family has money right...?" you chuckled.

"happy birthday, (y/n)." satoru said, putting his arm around your shoulder.

"thanks..." you smiled back at him. you were sure thanking him a lot tonight.

"satoru, is this your girlfriend?" the employee asked as they scanned your items, "you're usually here by yourself."

"oh, no, we're not dat—" you put your hands up in denial as satoru interrupted you, "she's a new student at the high school i attend. we're just friends."

"well... you guys look good together." the shop employee winked at both of you.

you and satoru blushed with sheepish looks on your faces, avoiding eye contact with each other. he took his arm off your shoulder and scratched the back of his head. after what felt like a lifetime, the employee bagged everything up and swiped satoru's black credit card. satoru held your shopping bags while you both walked to the next location.

"so, where to next?" satoru asked you.

"i was thinking we could go get some kikufuku at the place you like." you suggested. you didn't want satoru to be bored hanging out with you, so you decided to do something he would like as well.

"it's near the bullet train station, follow me." he said excitedly.

satoru led the way as you trailed two steps behind him. it was a busy friday night in shibuya. the streets were packed and you could easily get lost. good thing satoru was over six feet tall and looked like a damn model with his white hair and sunglasses. he was easy to spot in these streets.

"satoru, do you always wear sunglasses when you go out?"

"that's a random question." satoru replied, peering behind him to look back at you through his dark sunglasses.

"well... i was just thinking about that night when we talked in the kitchen. i just realized you weren't wearing sunglasses back then."

"why were you thinking about that night?"

"no reason." you said quickly. you couldn't have satoru gojo know that you were thinking about him. he would never let you live it down.

"with the six eyes, i see everything on a heightened level. it makes me tired. the darker the sunglasses, the easier it is on the eyes. sometimes, i wonder if i should just wear a blindfold."

satoru explained that he could still see everything even if his view was obstructed by something opaque.

"so you can see how much cursed energy is around you?"

"i can see every little piece of cursed energy even if my eyes are closed. right now, your cursed energy is bright blue and it feels like it's screaming at me since you're right next to me—and you have a lot of cursed energy. i can also see any residuals of cursed energy even if a curse stepped here a week ago. if a building has cursed energy, i can see where it's located inside the building."

touya never got into the specifics of the gojo clan, you thought it was because he didn't know anyone that had the six eyes. a majority of the gojo clan inherited limitless, but satoru was the first in a long time to have the six eyes which went hand in hand with limitless. touya liked to say that the world shifted when satoru was born.

"you're quiet. still processing?" satoru asked you.

"i didn't realize how complex your clan's technique was. you have the six eyes and limitless..."

"and you have water and ice. (y/n), we're the first in 400 years in our families to change the way—oh, here's the kikufuku stand."

the stall owner recognized satoru right away, he started to package up his usual order.

"oh, wait a minute. can you also package whatever she wants too?" satoru asked, pointing at you.

the stall owner smiled at you and let you pick what you wanted. satoru recommended the matcha cream and an edamame cream one. those were his favorites. you ended up choosing the strawberry and matcha cream ones. you two sat down at a small parlor table and ate your kikufuku, continuing your talk.

"so what elements do your family members have control of?" satoru asked.

you thought about your family, "my brother has electricity. my parents passed away when i was 6, but my brother told me that my dad was one of the strongest with earth. my grandpa is pretty bad ass with fire."

"what happens if you're born without any cursed energy in your clan?"

"nothing, you're still part of the clan. you just don't get to learn any jujutsu, i guess. they are usually teachers, housekeepers, cooks, or assistants at the family minka."

"i see. do you mind me asking what happened to your parents?"

"they were killed," you said quietly, "touya won’t tell me what happened, but i think it has to do with our rival clan."

satoru shifted in his seat, cocking his head to the side. "rival clan?"

"the kamo clan." you said.

gojo related with you, "it's just like the gojo clan and the zen'nin clan. a ten shadows technique user and a limitless six eyes user killed each other in the fight for the aristocracy in the past."

"a member of the kamo clan was rumored to have killed our last water user. i'm not gonna lie, satoru, it does make me a little nervous knowing that." you sheepishly said to him.

"it looks like we have a lot more in common than we thought, (y/n)." satoru said softly, "—and we're friends, right? i'll protect you from the kamo clan."

you smiled at him, "right, we are friends… thanks, satoru. i'll protect you from the zen’nin clan too."

satoru sat back in his seat, legs spread open, and his arm folded across his chest. he tipped back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs, "what do you say we get out of here? ready to go back to jujutsu high?"

you nodded at him as satoru reached out his hand. you looked at him, confused.

"did you forget that we teleported here?" satoru laughed.

you realized he didn't want to hold your hand, he wanted to teleport back to jujutsu high. you reached out to grab his hand as satoru looped your arm under his. he clasped his palms and just like that—you and satoru were back at jujutsu high.

you walked together under the dusk sky, the cobblestone pathway to the school was dimly lit. a warm connection surrounding you and the white haired sorcerer. the invisible red string of fate slowly connecting you two together.

"can you teleport anywhere in the world?" you asked satoru.

"hmmm, as of right now no. i've been practicing my long distance teleportation. shibuya is the furthest i can go since shoko, suguru, and i always go there. and i can teleport back to my clan's estate—i'm working on it though."

you nodded and watched him walk ahead of you. satoru gojo was actually kind of amazing. you walked faster to catch up to him. when you both arrived at the dorms, satoru brought your shopping bags back to your room for you.

"do you want to come in?" you asked him quietly, "curfew doesn't start until 10."

satoru scratched the back of his head nervously, "uh... sure."

this was a different side of satoru than the one that asked ‘no invite?’ a month ago.

"have you ever been in a girl's room before?" you teased the white haired sorcerer.

"oh, so you think you're funny?" satoru quipped back at you. he stepped into your room and dropped your bags on the floor. you could see through the corner of your eye that he was looking at your belongings.

"you like to shop at some of my favorite stores." he mentioned as he picked up your sunglasses, "i like these sunglasses."

"how many pairs of sunglasses do you have? 100?" you joked.

"234."

you looked at satoru. was he serious? what kind of person owned 234 pairs of sunglasses?!

"you're joking."

"nope. you can come into my room and check it out. unless... you've never been inside a guy's room before." satoru winked at you.

you rolled your eyes at him. he started to take out your stuff from the shopping bags, handing you a couple of organizers.

"i don't have anywhere for you to sit besides my vanity chair... you can sit on my bed if you want."

the first week of school, touya had multiple people from the clan estate bring you a custom king sized futon that was identical to the one you had in your room back at home.

"damn, a kind sized bed? must be nice." satoru said sarcastically.

"what size bed do you have in your dorm?" you asked him.

he slyly asked, "wanna come find out?"

"i would rather die than get caught laying in your bed. you probably have diseases in there." you retorted back at him.

"fine then, don't ask to come cuddle with me when you're cold then—and i wash my sheets weekly for your information."

"you have a lame way of flirting, satoru gojo. and it's a good thing i don't get cold easily."

satoru continued to grin as he laid on your bed, putting his arms behind his head. he crossed his legs and watched as you started to organize your bathroom with your birthday gifts from him. he liked pushing your buttons. he wondered if you were into him as much as he was into you. the way that you both bantered with each other excited him. sure, he flirted with and teased other girls, but he didn't feel the same way about them as he did you—you intrigued him.

satoru thought about how nice your hair looked with your white ribbons. you had taken out your space buns and let your long black hair run down your back and chest. you looked so pretty to him in your green dress that emphasized your bright emerald eyes. he shook his head at his intrusive thoughts, he was tired after using his infinity all day.

you noticed satoru had his eyes closed. you were almost done reorganizing your bathroom as you looked over at him again. he was sleeping. you leaned against your bathroom door, admiring him.

you heard a knock on your door. you opened the door to find suguru geto.

"hi, (y/n), is satoru here?" suguru asked with a smile.

you whispered to him, "hi suguru, he's sleeping right now."

"oh, that's surprising. satoru never sleeps anywhere but his room." suguru said while peering into your room, "and on your bed too?"

"my bed is really comfortable." you chuckled, "it's a custom futon from osaka."

"well, if he wakes up, can you let him know that yaga-sensei wants to talk to all of us tomorrow at 8am?"

"sure thing, thanks suguru!"

suguru geto was so nice. he always had a smile on his face. you enjoyed his company whenever yaga-sensei paired you up with him. and all the times you've studied with him, he was patient and kind.

"do you want me to wake satoru up?" you pointed back at the sleeping sorcerer.

"no, it's fine. let him sleep. see you tomorrow morning. goodnight, (y/n)!"

"goodnight, suguru."

as suguru left your room, he thought to himself, "they'll probably start dating soon." he laughed to himself on his way back to the boys' dorm. he knew that satoru would probably try to pull a move on you tonight. suguru was happy that satoru had finally met his match.

you shut your door and looked back at satoru. he had readjusted his body to lay on his side, his right arm under your pillow. you carefully took off his sunglasses from his face and put them on the nightstand beside him.

you slowly got ready for bed after washing your face and brushing your teeth. you put your chin in your hand as you thought to yourself ‘where am i supposed to sleep tonight?’

would it be okay if you and satoru slept in the same bed? you thought that since you had a king sized bed, you could sleep on one end and satoru could stay on the other end.

you gently sat down on the edge of your bed and snuck under the covers. you grinned, stealing another glance at him one last time before you turned your body to face away from the sleeping sorcerer.

the next morning

your alarm rang bright and early at 7:30am. you stretched your body as you noticed a slender arm across your abdomen, pulling you close. a head full of messy white hair snuggled between your shoulder and neck. you threw satoru's arm off of you as you sat up quickly.

"satoru gojo! wake up!" you hissed at him.

the sly sorcerer groaned and turned away from you to rub his face and eyes. "where's the fire, (y/n)?"

"we cuddled last night?! you were spooning me?!" you asked him, mortified at what you woke up to.

"hmmm, must've happened on accident."

you grabbed your blanket and covered yourself in disbelief, "oh my god. i've only known you for a month and you're already sleeping in my bed and trying to cuddle me."

"might as well be friends with benefits."

"i dare you to say that to suguru and shoko when we see them at the morning meeting."

"we have a morning meeting?"

"yes, we do. suguru came to find you last night, but you fell asleep."

"oh, he probably thinks we smashed last night." satoru laughed.

"you are gross." rolling your eyes at him, "—so are you going to get out?"

satoru frowned, "wow, you're kicking me out already?"

"yes, i am! go do your walk of shame to the boys' dorm. i have to get ready."

satoru got up from under the covers and stretched. your jaw dropped.

"since when did you have the time to take off your shirt last night?! you really tried it, satoru gojo!" you shrieked, throwing an ice shard at him.

of course, the ice shard just hit his infinity and evaporated when you called it back. he knew exactly what he was doing. he laughed and grabbed his shirt from the floor and threw it over his shoulder.

"see you later, (y/n). let's do this again sometime." satoru winked at you before sneaking out of your room. it was not a regular occurrence that satoru gojo would be walking around the dorms shirtless doing the walk of shame back to this room. he was better than that.

"gojo, please don't tell me you slept with my dorm mate." shoko begged as she opened the door to all the commotion next to her room.

"oh, hey shoko!" satoru greeted her.

"(y/n)! please tell me you didn't!"

"absolutely not! he's such an idiot!" you yelled back, disgusted at the thought.

satoru just hehehe'd down the hall.

later that morning

suguru and satoru were the first to arrive at the classroom as they sat cross legged on the floor. shoko and you arrived a few minutes later.

satoru had forgotten his sunglasses in your room this morning. you had them in your hands, placing his sunglasses on yaga-sensei's desk as you walked in. suguru and shoko looked at both of you, grinning. they wanted to tease you so badly, but they didn't dare. they didn't want a blast of water in their faces from you.

yaga-sensei opened the door and spoke. "as you may know, the school year is ending and we are going to have two new first years. you four will move on to become second years."

satoru raised his hand, "who're the newbies?"

"kento nanami and yu haibara."

all four of you looked at each other excitedly and smiled. you were all excited to have new classmates.

"also, one more thing—satoru, let's not be sneaking around campus shirtless. especially coming from the girls' dorm where you shouldn’t be." yaga-sensei sighed.

you turned bright red and refused to make eye contact with your sensei or satoru. shoko and suguru started laughing. you prayed that yaga-sensei wouldn't tell your brother about this.

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[lunargrapejuice]

i saw a post while scrolling down your profile and i came up with a req of sleepy sex with seph whos just a super exhausted husband who wants to spend time with his wife but doesn't have the energy to go all out

eeee anon!!! i love this request - i am but a puddle against this man🥺🩷 husband!seph my beloved<3 i hope you enjoy, thank you for requesting this! my heart was all warm writing this🥰💕

sephiroth x fem!reader | 3.3k + words

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, pre nibelheim seph, soft n sweet, size kink if you squint (i will repeat this man is huge), cream pie

slow and heavy, your eyes blink and through your bleary vision the animated movie about the baby chocobo who ran away from home that you had started about an hour ago continues to play quietly on the television screen. you can hear their small voice, make out the tuft of pale yellow feathers at the top of their head but don’t register what’s being said or what they're doing. 

your thumb fiddles with the band around your finger, the motion trying to keep you awake for just a little longer in hopes you’d be able to wait for your husband to get home. it’s late, with the moon high above your shared apartment on the top floor of the building and the quiet streets below set in the glow of the streetlights that emanate the color of the mako that powers them. 

the world was in a similar state when sephiroth had left early this morning and you suppose you were too. though instead of being tucked into bed that clung with his warmth, wiggling more and more onto his side until you could bury your face in his pillow, you were now laying on the couch in a half comfortable position with a soft blanket wrapped around you. it also happened to smell like him.

blinking again, or what you thought was you blinking, you’re surprised when your eyes open and in the dim light the only thing you see is the familiar dark leather of sephiroths coat against his pale skin, so very close you could reach your hand out to touch him with little effort, could feel his warmth. the apartment is quiet, like you had slept through the rest of the movie even though it feels like only a minute has passed since you closed your eyes.

“welcome home,” you coo, your voice clinging with sleep and happiness.

“i didn’t mean to wake you,” he replies quietly, caring. tired.

“you didn’t,” your assurance is sweet as you stretch out your arms towards him. even kneeling he’s so much larger than you and you have to sit up a bit to wrap your arms around his neck properly, wanting to hold onto him and not the armor he still adorned. he must have just walked through the door. you smile when you look up to meet his shimmering eyes, loving how tenderly they look back at you but there’s no ignoring the dark circles under them either.

bringing him into your embrace, needing no strength or words to do so, large arms envelope around you. he smells like leather and sweat and the flora of his shampoo, an intoxicating combination that has you snuggling closer, shamelessly taking in a deep breath. only a moment passes before he pulls you from the blanket, effortlessly lifting your body and so easily you follow, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stands and starts to make his way to the bedroom. dressed only in one of sephiroths old tshirts and your panties, in the cool air your bare legs break out in goosebumps and you cling to him harder, soaking in his natural heat.

sephiroths hold on your thighs grows tighter. 

“were you waiting for me?” he asks, murmuring softly against the side of your head where his lips place a long kiss but there's a teasing lilt to his tone that makes your heart flutter wildly.

“of course i was, i wanted to see you. didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you mumble the last part, feeling your heart contract.

perfect pink lips still pressed to the side of your head, he hums in contentment at your words. what had he done to deserve you? “i’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

shaking your head, you hug him tighter, nuzzling the tip of your nose into his soft skin. “it’s okay seph. i’ll always wait for you.”

so often you have left him speechless, longing to never let you leave his embrace. he felt the same when he came through the door and spotted your figure curled up on the couch. his little love, so adorable and even more thoughtful in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever be used to. 

in sephiroths long strides the walk to the bedroom isn’t long but he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet and instead of placing you on your side of the bed and leave you curled up under the blankets to get ready to join you, he sits at the edge of it and rests your legs comfortably on either side of his muscular thighs. perhaps he should have shed his armor before he came over to you on the couch but upon seeing you there, his feet immediately brought him to your side. all he wanted after every day, long or not, though lately they had been constantly long, was to end it with you in his arms.

shifting your weight on his legs, you move your arms from around his neck, letting your fingers roam from the column of the throat, over his exposed collar bone and to his shoulder. he sighs under your touch and you can feel his eyes on your face but your own can’t be torn from the rise and fall of his chest and the milky soft skin you want to kiss over and over again. 

your hands are gentle and delicate as you pull at the straps that keep his pauldrons secured to his jacket and you have to grip each one with both hands as you lift them off his shoulders, forgetting how heavy they actually are. he helps you shrug them off of him and place them at the ground near his feet, one after the other, and as you undo the clasps of his belts, he sheds his gloves and spreads his large hands over the span of the top of your thighs.

he feels lighter, in so many ways and all of which lead back to you; your love, your soft touch, your tender flesh under his hands that were never meant for anything but to be a weapon, a tool, and yet to you they’re nothing of the sort. home, you had once called them so fondly. you had always trusted him to touch you with gentleness he once believed he was not capable of.

“i missed you,” your voice, barely above a whisper, breaks the silence in the room as you undo his jacket, moving onto the suspenders of his soldier uniform that cross his chest. you work on unbuttoning them and look up at him, feeling your body flush with heat under the glow of his mako eyes in the moonlit room and the pulse of his thin pupils that blow wide and return to their normal thin slits at the locking of your gazes.

the warmth of his left palm leaves your leg and his large hand cradles the back of your skull, bringing you to his lips. tips of silver locks tickle your cheeks, act as a sheer curtain of starlight and it is all you can see against the sparkle of the lifestream in his beautiful eyes. “i’ve missed you too darling,” he says lowly, his words spoken on your lips before capturing you in a deep, breath stealing kiss that has you clinging to his chest for purchase and his right hand traveling from your thigh, over the hem of your panties and under your shirt to your lower back to press you against him.

years of training, experiments, mako, have made his body hard, every inch of him defined in thick cords of muscle and scars that you’ve counted and mapped out like constellations and loved endlessly but there’s a distinct press between your legs and with each kiss you share, it only grows harder, more evident and you can’t stop yourself from wiggling your hips to feel more of him.

sephiroth groans against your lips, his fingers flexing and pulling you further into him until there’s nothing that could slip between your two bodies. a languid roll of his hips has you gasping into the kiss and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, exploring your mouth and bucking his hips at the touch of your tongue against his, so sweet and needy.

you don’t know how long you stay like that, on the edge of breathlessness and pleasure that wasn’t enough and was all you need at the same time but suddenly your world is turning and your body becomes caged between the plush sheets and your husband's firm body. the hand on your back moves to keep him hovering above you, so as not to crush you with his full weight, and your thighs spread instinctively. through your panties his thick clothed cock rubs against your clit, making you gasp.

at the breaking of your lips, you take in cool air that does nothing to quell the heat building inside of you, especially when his own finds your neck and begins to kiss the span of your throat, the tip of his tongue licking along your pulse point, tasting your skin without hurry. but you can’t help the worry building inside of you either. he must be so exhausted. you saw it in his eyes, felt it on his skin and your own longing was a reminder of how much he had been working of late.

“seph- wait.”

he pulls away from your neck to look into your eyes, stopping the soft rutting of his hips. worry flashes through his eyes as he looks down at you, his breath heavy and hot in the little air that surrounds you.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you’re quick to assure him, bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks. he leans into your touch, long dark lashes fluttering closed. “i just - aren’t you tired? we don’t have to ton-”

your words are cut off by sephiroth bringing a hand over one of your own, holding it there as he kisses your palm and speaks against your skin. “i’m okay. i want you,” another kiss to your palm. “i need you.” as if to emphasize his point, he rolls his hips again, letting you feel just how hard he is for you. “can i have you angel?”

“please.” you all but whimper as you arch into him and your free hand on his face sinks into his silver locks, soft and silky between your fingers. he always asked but he never needed to. “i’m yours seph.” yours for the taking. yours to love. yours for eternity, in every life, in every universe.

“you’re mine,” he says, leaning down to kiss your lips softly while keeping your palm pressed to his cheek. “and i’m yours,” he murmurs against your lips before he’s completely too far away from you, now standing at the edge of the bed while you lay enveloped completely in it.

you can feel your heart pounding in your chest and how it reverberates throughout the rest of your body. you can hear it in your ears, heating you from head to toe, feel its pulse through your throbbing cunt as you watch sephiroth shed the rest of his clothes, starting with his jacket. 

he has always adored calling you angel but you were constantly reminded of his ethereal beauty and were convinced, truly and totally, that he was the actual angel here. or so much more than that, you thought as you watched long and thick fingers against pale skin and dark cloth, pulling down his pants and underwear in the same movement, lifting over the unbelievable length of his cock before sliding down his thighs and hitting the ground with a dull thud.

yes, so much more. your breath caught at the sight of your husband in the moonlight, his flushed mushroom tip leaking on his abdomen, every dip and curve of muscle and inch of skin you know is soft to the touch despite how marred it is from years of war and battle. cat-like eyes that shine and swirl with devouring, all consuming, love and devotion. a god among men but with the way he worshiped you, you were always his equal, regardless of whether you believed it yourself.

even in his much larger grasps his cock looks big and your mouth waters at the remembrance of the weight of it on your tongue as he pumps it slowly once, twice, with heaving breaths as he crawls back over to you. 

truthfully, he is as exhausted as you worry he is. he knows he is but this time apart from you has taken more of a toll on him than the tiredness could. all he wants is to be with you, his precious wife, and now you are finally underneath him, pliant and sweet and needing him just as much as he does you. nothing could keep him from you.

you lift your hips to help him slide your panties down your legs, the wetness of them trailing along your skin and deliciously evident to sephiroth in the dim light.

“so wet for me,” he purrs and sucks in a sharp breath as he taps your clit with his cock head again and again, a wet, lewd, noise filling the air. 

your essence is slick and drooling down his length, onto his hand at the base of his cock the more he slides it along your slit until it catches at your entrance and he sinks into your tight hole just a little more. he nearly collapses on top of you, the last of his weight held up by his forearm near your head and is joined by his other that cradles your cheek and brings you to his lips once more.

he takes his time sheathing fully himself inside your velvety walls, swallowing each of your whimpers and murmurs of his name the deeper he delves into you with each roll of his hips and the pleasurable ache between your legs from the stretch makes your body burst with the flames he controls so well.

the way sephiroth sighs your name as he stills inside of you, now completely enveloped by you and letting his forehead rest on yours, is like the most beautiful and sinful melody. one that stirs you to your core and makes you cling to him like you needed reassurance he was really there. your fingers sink into the soft flesh of his back and the strands of hair that spill over his frame and shoulders, your legs squeezing around his hips so he might not slip from your grasp.

when he finally starts to move, his thrusts are slow and deep, barely pulling out of you before he’s reaching deeper than before, the thick vein on the underside of his cock rubbing and throbbing against your walls. you’re so full of him, in every way you can possibly think of. every thought is only of him, each breath heady with his scent, everywhere your bodies touch pressing you further into the plush mattress and keeping you right underneath him, right where he needs you, where you don’t know where he ends and you begin.

you’re so tight around him, taking him perfectly, and moaning his name with a particularly deep roll of his hips that has him thinking he won't last much longer. you could bring him to his knees with your smile alone but like this..

“oh, seph~”

“say my name again,” his voice is low and husky with desire and laced with tiredness but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t want to stop. he needs to be as close to you as possible.

you do, over and over at the drugging feeling of him making love to you, filling you like you were made for each other, like the missing piece of your soul you couldn’t go without. you can feel the tautness of his muscles when he’s so very deep and your walls squeeze around him in white hot pleasure, pulling him in deeper, begging for more. 

“seph.. mmm.. please -  sephiroth!!”

you gasp his name as he grabs ahold of your leg and brings it up to his chest, still thrusting in and out of you as he easily maneuvers you so you’re laying on your side and without sliding out of you, he takes the place behind you, pressing your back against his chest with the hand that snakes underneath you and presses on the space below your breasts underneath your shirt.

he gingerly guides your leg back down, soaking in the feeling of your soft skin under his palm and this new angle with you in his embrace. his pace remains unhurried and overwhelming at the same time; you whine each time he pulls his hips back, feeling unbearably empty despite how much just his tip splits you open, and cling to his arms around you desperately, mewling and writhing in his hold when he pushes back into you slowly and fluidly, hitting that perfect spot inside of you that has you burning and trembling. 

“look at you.. my beautiful darling.. i love you,” his voice is hot and heavy in your ear, a seductive purr that breaks the hold on the tightness below your belly. a rare curse leaves his lips, “fuck - you always take me so well.” his hold on you tightens, keeping you in place as his thrusts become less paced and more desperate, not able to retract from your heat, but bringing you down on his cock more and more.

your voice cracks around his name on your tongue, your pretty pussy fluttering around his length and he stills inside of you to feel every last squeeze as you milk him for all he’s worth.  

“just like that angel, take me..” 

you’re still throbbing around him, his release plentiful and sticky, unable to be kept all inside of your cunt with you so full of his cock but he doesn’t seem to mind the messiness between your legs and keeps you held close even after you’ve both come down from your highs. 

nuzzling his nose into your hair, you feel his weight sag against you and the expanding of his chest with the deep inhale he takes that’s wafting with sex and your sweet scent and that melts the remnants of his strength, what little of it had been getting him through these last few days. none of it mattered anymore now that he was home with you. 

“seph?” you ask, feeling his breath fall into a steadiness that reminds you of when he’s sleeping in your arms without a worry.

“mm?”

“let me clean us up,” you offer, wanting to take care of him, though he hadn’t had you ever do so before. cleaning you up after was a duty and privilege he took very seriously, as if he needed to care for you in that way.

you try to wiggle from his hold, shivering at the over stimulating movement of his half hard cock still sheathed in your cunt, but he doesn’t budge and you aren’t strong enough to escape, even if you were to give it an honest effort.

“stay like this with me for a little longer,” his voice sounds so full of sleep and boyish. it makes your heart stutter and your cheeks warm.

you can’t deny him. you don’t think you’d ever be able to. so you give in to your own tiredness, fitting perfectly in the curled up space of his chest and thighs when you snuggle closer, letting the weight of him surrounding you, inside of you, drift you into sweet and steamy dreams featuring your soldier.

when you wake, moonlight still fills the room but the mess between your legs is gone, the sheets are clean and your husband holds you so impossible close, the warm metal of his wedding band clinking against your own as you lace your fingers together and fall back asleep to the sound of his steady heart in your ears.

main masterlist

[copper-16]

You Didn't Let Me Finish

Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.

Usually.

Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?

(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)

Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here. 

The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right? 

And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to. 

Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls. 

The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients. 

Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there. 

It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally. 

But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along. 

It’s just, nobody had. 

But perhaps that would change. 

—

It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back. 

“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling. 

Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town. 

“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where. 

Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike. 

“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded. 

“Oh and–”

“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action. 

Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear. 

“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet. 

“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet. 

“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet. 

“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like. 

By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in. 

Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table. 

The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to. 

The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man. 

The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.  

She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head. 

“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot. 

“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken. 

“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.  

“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk. 

“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”   

Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do. 

“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name. 

“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally. 

The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. 

“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room. 

“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence. 

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them. 

“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble. 

The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive. 

As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act. 

But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune. 

And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble. 

The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her. 

Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs. 

And god was Misa wrong. 

This woman wasn’t attractive. 

She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop. 

The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk. 

She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid. 

“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now. 

If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high. 

She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work. 

“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English. 

“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded. 

“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin. 

It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman. 

“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out. 

The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation. 

“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious. 

“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name. 

“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes. 

The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s. 

“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily. 

“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on. 

“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers. 

“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers. 

The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different. 

She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her. 

“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully. 

The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair. 

It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt. 

The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently. 

She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen. 

The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless. 

Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away. 

Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care. 

The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer. 

The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly. 

The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy. 

And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason. 

This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low. 

“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. 

They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back. 

It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette. 

Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise. 

The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back. 

Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body. 

“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid. 

“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman. 

Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow. 

“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.

Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought. 

It was her choice. 

Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly. 

“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat. 

“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing. 

“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree. 

But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap. 

They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power. 

It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it. 

Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless. 

It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own. 

The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling. 

The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core. 

She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier. 

It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs. 

“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace. 

The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons. 

She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed. 

Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second. 

Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning. 

“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to. 

“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something. 

Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more. 

She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots. 

She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more. 

“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished. 

“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest. 

Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other. 

“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly. 

Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful. 

“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate. 

The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.

Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten. 

Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk. 

“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such. 

Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with. 

To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways. 

Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting. 

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like. 

She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again. 

The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her. 

“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly. 

“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance. 

“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently. 

Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own. 

“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time. 

The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually. 

Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.

She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises. 

“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her. 

The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace. 

“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there. 

It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire. 

Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut. 

It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful. 

The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin. 

Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere. 

When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette. 

“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed. 

Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow. 

So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while. 

[nwarrior777]

Science Museum Group changed offensive object tittle after getting my letter

here's the story about it:

Wonderful @solariium commissioned me wonderful victorian-era wheelchair user character to draw. Refs were provided, and one of the links was an object in online museum gallery - vintage wheelchair.

solariium, who is wheelchair user theirself, mentioned that tittle of the object is incorrect but it was good picture for the ref. i wondered "what's with the tittle?" looked in the link and saw

ID: screenshot of online museum collection, vintage old wheelchai object page. the tittle of wheelchair says: Invalid chair, Europe, 1850-1890. end ID

welp. incorrect indeed! [i* is outdated offensive term]

so i decided to make a special move

ID: my drawing of a character from anime "mob psycho 100" - Arataka Reigen. He holds a phone next to his ear, his face epression is very confident. It's all anime sparkles lights effects around him and text "REIGEN SPECIAL MOVE". end ID

and USE MY POWER

of writing emails

i don't have problems with writing emails, so i thought why not

and

https://collection.sciencemuseumgroup.org.uk/objects/co120657/carved-wooden-wheelchair-europe-1850-1890-invalid-chair

ID: screenshot of online museum collection, vintage old wheelchai object page. the tittle of wheelchair says: Carved wooden wheelchair, Europe, 1850-1890. end ID

it worked!

As human who made bunch of projects, i can say that keeping museum gallery is tone of work.

And tittle change - no, it's not just changing few letters.

Changing tittle of object in museum is similar to changing name of game file. Catalogs changes, maybe they have irl gallery, so new card, they probably have some code objects system related to tittles, and scientists, students, make reference to this object in their researches and articles and etc etc.

So, yeah, it * is * a lot of work. Also, they changed description, it now says that this object was "historically referred to as ‘invalid chair’". And i think it's good, because it is not erasing fact of people used this word, and it's addition to the progress context - we literally see now old term clarified as past, and new one, now, in the tittle.

(and yes, web link. i just saw that i* word still there. yeah, not perfect but still, considering things i said above - big work done)

I used some conversation strategy in case "this is offensive can you fix" will not be enough — started on positive attitude giving compliment on their collection being big and interesting, gave them extra argument on why this should be fixed (more actual search key words on this now are "vintage wheelchair", not "i* chair"). Then we had a little letters chain, where they answered politely too, and in about few days i got detailed answer on this, and yep, changed tittle.

And i think this shows, that if someone did mistake and someone noticed it and giving feedback on it, if both sides are interested in progress and making good changes, no matter how hard it is, sides can make a change, working together and being kind. And i think we should be more brave about making such connections!

Thanks again to @solariium and museum workers!

[vsimp]

he catches you writing smut (18+)

pairing: Kamisato Ayato x F!Reader

genre: smut

wc: 2.6k

kink warning: a line or two about panty sniffing lol

There was a pretty popular erotic novel currently published by the Yae Publishing House. Hundreds of copies so far have been sold in Inazuma. It was released by an anonymous author, a story telling the tale between a CEO and his secretary. Although the people weren’t too familiar with the concept of a corporation, people really did enjoy the little power dynamic between a dominant CEO and his submissive secretary. Smut had recently grown popular in Teyvat, and this erotic novel was the current driving force of it all.

Little did they know that you were the author, the current lady of the Kamisato Clan, and the Yashiro Commissioner's wife. You had based the male lead off of your own husband. Surely if you revealed your identity, the whole of Inazuma would be in uproar and you would soil the Kamisato Clan’s name. That was why it was your own dirty little secret, the fact that you were writing erotic fiction based on you and your husband, a little secret that only you and Yae Miko know.

What you didn’t expect was for the novel to reach the insides of the Estate. Housekeepers were gushing about it during their breaks, retainers were talking about how their partners wanted to try these different positions from the novel… You couldn’t help but be mortified, yet flattered, that so many people enjoyed your dirty novel.

It wasn’t until the news had reached your husband’s ears did you really, really get in trouble.

Kamisato Ayato called his wife to his study after a long day of duties for the both of them. Usually, he would invite her to tea if they had the time to talk about what they had for plans during the week.

You took a sip of your tea, relishing in the nice silence after a bustling day and the warmth that the tea brought.

“There’s this novel that has been the talk of the town lately,” Ayato said and you did everything you could not to choke on your tea.

“Ah, I heard the staff speaking about it this week. My, I wonder what had caught their attention like so…” You replied as casually as you could.

“Mm.” He replied briefly and took something out of his jacket. You tried not to tense up as you recognized the familiar pink book cover, of course graced with the illustration of the main couple that suspiciously had the same hair color as you and Ayato. “Ah, yes, let me read the title out loud. ‘The Nightly Trysts of Hayato and his Lover.’ Hm, a strange title indeed. This ‘Hayato’ character has a similar name and appearance to mine.”

You wanted to cringe at the entire name. Guuji Yae was the one who suggested such an embarrassing title. She said it would attract a more mature audience who enjoyed that sort of fantasy. Ayato maintained his relaxed smile despite reading all of that, and you didn’t like it one bit. It meant he was currently hiding something he knew, and you were too scared to delve into what exactly that was.

“Ah…” You had to keep your calm, even though you wanted to scream into your own pillow right now. If you showed any sort of discomfort or anxiety, your husband would recognize it right away. After all, nothing came past your husband with that sharp mind of his. “Perhaps it’s just a coincidence?”

“Hm, maybe so. Shall I read the summary?”

No. Please, archons, no.

He continued anyway, despite your inner thoughts pleading him not to. He read off the summary on the back of the book with his same laxed voice, detailing a CEO who was currently smitten by his secretary, who starts to avoid him at all costs once she sees him half naked on a business trip. The CEO, frustrated, chased after the secretary and had an erotic time with her in his office.

“It sounds interesting,” you forced a smile on your face.

“Doesn’t it? I started to skim through it whenever I had time off during the day.”

“Oh?” You wanted to cry at this point, a wide smile plastered on your face. He’s noticed. He’s definitely noticed. “Do you like it so far…?”

“It’s surely an interesting read. This male lead named Hayato… The way the author describes him, with light blue hair and light blue eyes and a small mole on his left lower lip…” Ayato’s smile remained the same, although the corner of his eyes crinkle a bit, indicating a more mischievous look. “He sure does sound like me.”

“Haha…” You let out a forced laugh. “Maybe someone is a fan of your appearance.”

“It appears so.” He flipped through the pages casually. “Such a detailed little novel. This author sure does have a penchant for writing erotic scenes.”

“They must be passionate about their work.” You felt like your smile could break your face at this point.

“Mm… The female lead sounds quite familiar as well. Her name is similar to yours.”

“I-is it?”

“Indeed. The same eye and hair color too.”

“Wow. What a huge coincidence!”

He chuckles softly. “My dear, there’s no need to play dumb anymore.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Your voice wavered a bit, but you were committed to it.

“You’re going to keep playing this game? Very well then.” He stood up and took your hand.

“A-Ayato?”

With one fellow swoop, he helped you to stand up. Before you knew it, he led you over to your bedroom, locking the door behind him and guided you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Let me read out an excerpt I found interesting,” Ayato stated as he looked at the book, although he made small glances at you too while reading. “He pins her down to the bed and kisses her passionately. His blue and white sheets were softer than anything she’s ever felt, but that thought was soon taken away by the force of his lips upon her.” His usually relaxed smile soon morphed into a smirk. “My, I didn’t realize you were such a big fan of our blue and white sheets.”

Without a doubt, the bedsheets in the room you shared had always been blue and white for the last few years. Suddenly, he pinned you down against the sheet, his hand pushing your shoulder gently so you rested back against the bed, just as he had read from the book. And then he simply leaned down to kiss you, his soft lips meshing with yours as you felt yourself melt in his embrace. Your lips came together gently, although there was a playful bounce to his kisses that you did not expect, and soon, his tongue ended up pushing against yours.

He chuckled after he parted away from you, leaving you panting and breathless from the makeout session. “Cat got your tongue, my dear? Or will you finally admit the truth?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Your cheeks grew hotter as he tried to corner you into admitting that you were the author.

“Mm… Sure, you don’t.” His lips made their way to kiss your neck, his tongue hot as he bit and sucked on the skin there. “Did you really feel that lonely that you had to write erotica off of our experiences? Have I not shown you enough attention lately?”

“D-Don’t say that…!” Your voice grew weaker as he teased you, your resolve slowly crumbling the more he kissed you. “You know that’s not the case…!”

“Hehe,” he let out another small chuckle. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered. Tell me, y/n, do you just like our experiences so much that you put it into a novel?”

You gasped as his hands went under your robe, undoing your clothes and caressing your breast through your undergarments. His fingers tease your nipples through your bra, pinching the sensitive bud and flicking it around. You let out small whimpers from the teasing.

“Shall I reenact one of the scenes I was particularly fond of?”

“Please no…” you begged. 

“Why not?”

“I-it’s embarrassing.”

“I think it’s endearing that my lovely wife has such vivid fantasies.” He smiled down at you and then started to strip you naked of your clothes. “I could drown in the beauty of your body, my love.” He repeated a line from the novel as he kissed down your neck to your chest.

You let out soft pants as he unraveled your body, his eyes raking every inch as if he hadn’t memorized it all already. He gave your breasts another squeeze, pinching the bare nipple before he slowly dragged it down your rib cage to your lower abdomen before resting right in front of your aching core. It just sat there, his palm digging into your mound as your hips buckled, wanting more and more stimulation.

“Patience, love…” Ayato gave you a calculating smirk as he picked up the book once again and flipped to a bookmarked page. He read off another excerpt. “He buried his face into her pussy, panties on, sniffing and tasting her neediness that drenched through the soft fabric.” Ayato took a finger and ran it gently along your slit, and you did everything you could not to beg him for more despite your legs trembling slightly from anticipation. “My, I didn’t realize my wife had such fantasies about her panties like this. Such a pervert, wanting me to sniff her precious flower like a deranged animal .”

“Mm… n-no, t-that’s not true…” you tried to deny, but your flushed body and face were saying otherwise. 

“Such a lewd expression,” he chuckled and crawled down, taking a sniff of your core straight through your underwear. “You smell delightful,” his voice deepened, almost guttural, as his tongue dipped to languidly lick at your clit. 

You let out a soft cry, which was like music to his ears. Ayato wanted to laugh in amusement, his own mind twisting into pure sadistic pleasure. Who would’ve known that his own wife would be such a naughty little thing? He savored her taste, enjoying the way she writhed beneath him. With one fluid motion, he pulled her underwear off and sucked at her wet core, kissing and slurping all of her love juices. 

Your mind was all fuzzy as pleasure filled your lower region. Your legs wrapped around his head, hips buckling as he ate you out, dipping his tongue into your pussy as deep as he could before taking it out to swirl around your clit. It reminded you of the scene you wrote in the book, and you wonder how committed he was going to be to the scene.

Nevertheless, it seemed like he was going to tease you nonstop until you finally admit that you were the author.

He then pushed a finger into you, stretching out your walls and he admired the way your walls tensed around his digit, how your moans grew louder and louder. One, and then two, he started to pump his fingers, curling them to hit the spot you liked the most whilst his tongue continued flicking against your clit. Your hands made its way to his soft blue hair, and it wasn’t long before you came all over his fingers and lips. 

You panted as he took himself out of you, your eyes watching as he licked your juices off his fingers before he positioned his waist in between your legs.

“Are you ready, princess?” His hands undid his pants, taking out his cock as he rubbed the length against your sensitive slit. You just came, after all, so he was getting well lubricated with your juices.

You whined a bit as you needily stuck your arms out, and Ayato chuckled as he bent down to meet your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer. He kissed you deeply and a bit more rough this time as you felt his cock grinding against your wet, warm pussy. He wanted you so bad, but he also wanted to stay committed to his teasing.

“Mm… Ayato, put it in already…” You scolded him as he continued to grind against you, occasionally slapping the tip of his rock hard cock gently against your clit. 

“I don’t think so…” He said after pulling away from your tongue, smirking down at you. He hissed a bit as he continued to rub his length up and down, his other hand making its way to squeeze your breast. “Not until you admit it.”

“Are you seriously still on that?!” You moaned in frustration, wiggling your hips in hopes that he’d just put it inside and fuck you relentlessly to dull the growing ache in your lower abdomen.

“Well, we are following the scene in the novel to the tea. I just want to confirm that you are truly one of the main characters.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were so horny for anything that you didn’t care at this point.

“Fine! Fine, yes, I admit it. I wrote the book. Now hurry up!”

Your husband leaned forward, placing a hand beside your head to hold himself up as his other hand started to push his cock in just a bit.

“Hehe, so demanding.” You gasped as he pushed his entire length in you. “And yet, you’re such a good girl.”

His hips slammed into yours, his lips kissing and sucking the skin of your neck. You could only grip him tightly as he fucked you deeply and thoroughly with the only goal to draw out your sweet moans that he loved hearing so much. He grunted as he felt you squeeze around him, taking you over and over until you were crying out his name.

His lips slammed back onto yours, exploring your mouth as his cock pushed in and out. He wanted to leave you as a sputtering mess, until you can’t think of anything else but him and his long, aching hard member.

“You’re such a dirty girl, writing those lewd scenes about us.” He muttered in your ear, hissing as he felt you tightening every time he uttered some dirty words. “Is that your fantasy? Me fucking you hard in my office with my employees outside?” He chuckled as you were too caught up in pleasure to respond. “Hm? Or do you just like the idea of me fucking you wildly out in the open?”

He pushed your legs as far up as he could and he continued to slam down into you.

“Shit…” He cursed, so unlike his normally composed self. You were the only person in this world who could unravel him completely. You, and you alone. “You feel so good, princess…”

The sound of his skin slapping yours filled the room, coupled with your moans and his quiet grunts. He slid in and out of you with ease at this point, stretching you whole. He watched your breasts bounce to his movements and he didn't hesitate to squeeze and play with them as he wished.

He fucked you in different positions, bending you over the bed, on your side with your foot high up in the air and leg over his shoulder. He couldn’t get enough of you, making you cum over and over again before sputtering his own seed deep into your walls, enjoying how you clench and convulse from his cock alone.

“Mm…” He hummed as he kissed your shoulder tenderly, his cock still deep inside you as he finished cumming, drawing out small thrusts as he got the final load out. He could drown in the sound of your moans, and suddenly, he understood the appeal of your erotic novel.

Ayato took himself out of you before collapsing next to you, holding you closely in his arms. He kissed your forehead as you both panted from the heavy exertion before he looked at you with that mischievous smile.

“So was that enough for you to write a sequel?”

[watercolorfreckles]

Could you do a story where a guard of a Supermax prison befriends a supervillain, because he treats him like a genuine human being instead of an animal; and later, all the power-dampeners suddenly fail; and all these villains just revolt against the guards; but supervillain makes sure he’s safe since he was always kind to him?

I understand if you don’t want to!!❤️

Hello! This has been sittin in my inbox for many months during my huge writing rut, sorry about that! I know you also gave this prompt to @the-modern-typewriter and she's been making an incredible series with it on patreon! I changed some things around because I don't want to in any way attempt some sad copy of her interpretation, but I was still inspired by the prompt itself, so I've taken some fairly big liberties to avoid any significant similarities! Hope that's okay! Also, please manage your expectations, I do not compare to the magic that is TMT's writing 😆

TW: Brief depictions of body horror. Violence.

The power blew out in sections. The lights dissolved sector by sector with a sickening whine and click–one by one–in approach.

The commotion ripped Eloise from the fictional world she was lost in, aged page corners still pinched beneath her thumb. Her spirited storytelling abruptly died behind her teeth.

Somewhere in the distance, one person shouted. Two.

Her gaze flicked behind them to the door isolating herself and the bound supervillain from the other sectors of the Maximum Security Prison for Powered Individuals or, as everyone called it, The Max. Seeing nothing but black beyond the bullet-proof glass, her attention snapped forward again to the supervillain imprisoned across from her. 

Was this the start of some elaborate escape plan on his part? Why did it have to happen on a day that she was stuck fulfilling her community service hours instead of being something she could safely gawk at in the newspaper from a distance in a few days? Her stomach did a nauseated flip. 

“What are you doing?” she blurted, voice quivering only a little. Her fingers tightened around her book.

The villain made a show of looking pointedly at his restraints. Wrists strung taut and chained to either wall, he shrugged an innocent shoulder at her as if to say “clearly, nothing.” He was perched on the edge of his bed like a bird, tilting his head with a matching sort of probing curiosity. 

For all the chaos outside of the room, Artisan had not a hair out of place. He appeared perfectly unconcerned, though as thoroughly trapped as ever: ankles shackled, arms stretched uselessly apart from each other. The power-dampening collar wrapped around his neck still blipped a faint red light, indicating it was active. 

The prisoners were rioting. Surely they couldn’t get too far? Containing the most dangerous of powered individuals was, after all, the express purpose of the facility…

The lights above them flickered, dipping the room in and out of inky darkness before settling into a dimly lit haze. Eloise’s breath stalled. The imposing dark felt like a threat, as if the lights could keep the monsters at bay. It only made a little sense, in the way that a child feels safe from the monsters under their bed as long as their nightlight is plugged in.

Except that these monsters were real. The most dangerous in the country. And she was currently feet away from the monster that made even other monsters run.

He hadn’t seemed so bad in the time that she’d known him. Quiet, impassive, yet twisting her gut with pity any time she eyed his barbaric restraints. The least she could do–while crossing off her hours–was to read the supervillain a story every few days. She couldn’t change his fate. Couldn’t make him more comfortable. What she could do was rattle off, sheepishly, about fictional worlds and impactful characters in literature and the way that a well-crafted story could transport you somewhere better.

A crash, gunshots, a scream. Tension racketed through Eloise’s shoulders. More shouts chased thundering footsteps.

Things were going very, very, wrong. And she was very much out of her depth.

Eloise jolted as something struck the door, her special-edition copy of Mary Shelly's Frankenstein falling to the ground and skidding away.

Finally, the lights cut out. With it, every noticeable piece of tech died. All of the energy felt sucked out of the room as if vacuumed. The camera’s blinking light disappeared. Alarms that should have been wailing cut silent. Speakers, keypads, and security systems, all dead. The secondary generator hadn’t sprung to life yet. That meant that this was more than a simple power outage. This was a calculated revolt.

 Eloise’s mind raced through a list of everything else that must have been failing. Coms. Sedative gas. Shock collars. Layers and layers of security locks…

Power dampeners.

Panic clamped vice-like and suffocating around her throat. Artisan’s collar was no longer blinking. 

She froze in the eerie silence of the cell, afraid of shattering the fragile calm. Her heart thumped, rabid, against her ribs.

Chains rattled and clinked to the floor.

Eloise bolted blindly for the door, smacking her palm against the DNA scanner while frantically swiping her “Volunteer Staff” badge through the card reader. When neither miraculously came to life, she resorted to banging on the door.

“Let me out, let me out! Guard!”

The door could only be opened by one person inside the cell and one outside simultaneously unlocking the security checkpoints. Even if the power were on, if the guard on the other side was gone…

The emergency floodlights kicked on, bathing the building in startling fluorescence. Eloise flinched, briefly stunned.

Hands grabbed her firmly from behind, yanking her backward.

Eloise yelped. “No, please–!”

The spot that she had been standing in exploded, steel door and concrete chunks collapsing into the room in a barrage of shrapnel. Something–no, someone–landed, bones crunching, at her feet. The guard who had last been standing on the opposite side of the door lay motionless. His blood puddled the floor, staining the soles of her Converse sneakers.

A horrified sound choked in Eloise’s throat.

Another supervillain strode in, eyes alight with hatred and something more–power. His lip curled, waving a mocking hand–engulfed in green energy–at the guard’s corpse. “God. I’ve wanted to do that for far too long. That one always got on my nerves.”

Artisan looked unimpressed. “You’re making a mess in my cell.”

Eloise’s breath caught. Hearing the supervillain’s voice was jarring. Artisan rarely spoke. Not that any of the other staff had ever actually attempted conversation with him… But even in news clips and YouTube videos, he carried himself with the kind of self-assured quiet of someone who had absolutely nothing to prove. His lethal efficiency did more for his reputation than any words could.

The other man was a villain named William Frenzy, a telekinetic with a gleeful taste for violence.

Faced with Artisan’s startling calm, Frenzy… paused. Faltering on a tight rope he had moments before been strolling across. 

“Yes, well. It won’t have to be your cell much longer, will it? They can’t stop all of us.” He smirked at the dead body on the floor. “Some of them can’t even stop one of us.”

Eloise shrank back toward the corner nearest the door, agonizingly slow, willing the ugly shadows from the artificial lighting to swallow her up while the supers focused on each other. She was the kind of person that people tended not to notice; a background character in the perimeter of a story that the protagonist would meet once and never spare a thought again. She wished, then, that invisibility really was her superpower.

Artisan said nothing, his steely gaze fixed upon Frenzy.

Frenzy floundered beneath the scrutiny. The smugness buffered on his face. Finally, he huffed, crossing his arms. “I made you a nice and easy door out. You’re welcome.” He flicked a hand toward the gaping hole in the wall.

Eloise inched further toward it.

Artisan tutted, and while it wasn’t aimed at her, it shot a cold thrill up her spine. She froze, briefly, before continuing her tantalizing escape. She listened to Artisan speak again. 

“I did not need anything from you. I’ll be getting out regardless. You on the other hand…” 

Eloise stared as Frenzy’s skin shrank taut against his bones, the frame of him creaking and groaning like an old tree in the wind. The air choked out of him, fingers grabbing at his jaw as it stretched open too wide. The corners of his lips tore, slitting his mouth into a gaping maw.

The faintest of smiles graced Artisan's lips as he continued, soft as ever. “Say sorry.”

Eloise didn’t wait to see the carnage through, slipping out into the hall and running.

The other sectors were washed in the same sterile glow as Artisan’s cell was, blue-tinged and horrible, like the lights in a dentist's office. She kept to the edge of things as best she could, clinging to the walls and dark corners.

There was brawling in every sector—guards with weapons drawn mowed to the ground by the creatures they had wardened for so long. A villain fell as shots rang out. Another grabbed the guard from behind, cracking his skull against their knee. 

The smell of blood stung Eloise’s nostrils. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe.

She turned to flee down another hall, but two fighting inmates crashed into the doorway in front of her.

Eloise squealed, jerking backward into the belly of the room's chaos.

Don't notice me, don't notice me, don't notice me.

Everyone was so occupied by their chosen prey, maybe she could fade into the background. Maybe she could–

Her heel caught on something and she tumbled, gracelessly, to the floor. It took her several moments to register the lake of blood seeping warm and sticky into her clothing. 

Terror blurred her brain in a white flash bang.

Disappear, disappear, disappear…

“Mm. What do we have here?”

Eloise couldn’t bring herself to lift her head. She clamped her eyes shut, another child’s illusion of protection. 

The villain opposite her chuckled. He ripped her volunteer badge off of its clip against her chest. Her eyes snapped open again. She recognized him as a ringleader among superpowered thieves. They called him Volt.

“Volunteer, eh? A pretty thing like you should know better than to willingly set foot in a prison full of men with nothing left to lose. It’s been a long sentence, darling. I could make excellent use of your volunteer services. Get up.”

Numbly, ears full of static, Eloise shook her head.

Volt frowned, electricity jumping to life in his palms. “No?” He reached for her, hand nearing her throat.

“Keep your hands to yourself or I will remove them.” 

Artisan’s voice was calm. His eyes were not.

The room quieted.

Spatters of red decorated Artisan’s prison uniform. A few drops dotted his face and he brushed them away with his knuckles, smearing the crimson across his cheek. Almost lazily, he popped his neck and stretched his shoulders, no doubt sore from the strain his restraints kept him in.

The villain across from Eloise paused, sparks still dancing across his fingertips. He regarded Artisan with the same wary caution as Frenzy had.

Before he'd been… Before Artisan had…

Eloise swallowed back the nausea climbing her throat.

Finally, Volt’s hand lowered. “She's yours?”

“She's hers. Step away.”

The man hesitated a moment too long. Artisan didn't offer a second warning. 

As if puppeted, the man's fingers raised to gauge at his own eyes. He screamed, the faint evidence of Artisan’s power shimmering over him. He clawed, next, at the skin on his face, peeling it back like wet wallpaper. 

As promised, his wrists crunched and bent, wrenching all on their own at impossible angles.

Eloise covered her ears, unable to bear the screaming. She felt sick.

“Stop,” she whispered finally. “Please.”

It did. The man collapsed into a sobbing, bloodied heap.

When Eloise managed to look at Artisan, she startled to find his attention fixed on her.

They stared at each other for a stretch of silence that itched. She imagined being forced to choke on her own lungs, or her skull constricting in on itself until it squashed her brain into pulp. For being so bold as to run, he might snap her legs and reaffix them the wrong direction, or splinter her bones to poke, grotesque, out of her skin. They always did say that his victims were his personal works of art, bodies twisted into shells of monsters.

He crooked a finger, beckoning her.

The edges of her vision swooped fuzzy and vertiginous. She rose onto wobbly knees and pushed herself to her feet. When she swayed, Artisan caught her elbow, slipping an arm around her waist to lead her forward.

He did not look back at the others, with complete confidence that no one would challenge him.

No one did.

Eloise was barely aware of taking one step after another. When they arrived back in the villain’s cell, the bodies of Frenzy and the dead guard, thankfully, were gone, though the floor was streaked with the drag lines of their blood.

She wrenched her gaze away.

Artisan’s hand moved further down her arm to her wrist, gesturing that she sit on his bed. When she shifted to do so, his grip tightened, tugging her to a stop. She frozen and tried to read his face. 

His dark brows were furrowed, suspicious eyes flicking from hers down to her hand.

He pulled down her sleeve and held her wrist up between them, revealing the power-blocking cuff clamped around it. His head cocked. He waited.

Eloise swallowed. “I’m not a super. I mean- not a super-super. Just a…..no one.”

“A no-one who volunteers at The Max? With a power-dampener?”

“They’re terms of my probation,” she blurted. “A thousand hours of community service here and a power-inhibitor for a year. I think they put me here to threaten me with where I could end up if I continue on like… Um…”

“Me.”

“A villain,” she clarified, as if that was better. 

Her gaze flitted from the fingers wrapped around her wrist and up to the villain’s face again. The harsh lighting haloed him, dimly silhouetting his face. He looked haunting. He looked lovely. A beautiful house, old and creaking, wrapped in ghosts like a bride’s veil and left to rot. 

“What did you do?”

“I…” Eloise felt very small. “I lied about being powered on my documents. So that they wouldn’t put me on the registry. When they found me out, I tried to run away.”

Artisan’s scrutiny burned her cheeks. He let go of her wrist.

“...What can you do?”

“Nothing special,” she said, cradling her wrist–wholly uninjured as it was–in her other hand. “It doesn’t even work most of the time. My power is sort of…blending in. Going unnoticed. When it’s working, I could stand in a the White House and people’s attention would glide over me as if I belonged there. Not quite invisible, but… It just tricks your brain into not thinking twice.”

Artisan’s eyes narrowed.

Eloise flinched back a step, stumbling back over her fallen book onto the bed. She stared at him.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Some of the tension eased from her shoulders, but she still waited for the catch. “Why aren’t you out there with the rest of them? Trying to escape?”

The villain considered her for a long moment. He sat down beside her, and the hard cot creaked beneath his weight. “Mm. That’s just it. No one inside the prison could have blown the power-dampeners. They require someone with powers to turn them off or on, and the security is impenetrable. My team has tried. Besides, if this was a simple power outage, the inhibitors would still be on. But they’re not. This was premeditated–and no one imprisoned here could have done it. No one on the outside could have done it. So. Process of elimination. Who’s left?”

That was the most Eloise had ever heard Artisan speak, and she could only sit and listen intently–As he had when she’d read him stories. Her brain whirred in a jumbled jigsaw of puzzle pieces. 

“It… It could only be an inside job.” She wet her lips. “The heroes- The higher-ups- They want the prisoners to break out so that they can kill them. A clean massacre. Justified under the law. The world’s most dangerous criminals could never be allowed to escape…”

Artisan smiled and it swirled something in her insides. “A convenient way to get rid of all of the pesky criminals clogging up the system. I’d bet anything that there are 50 snipers surrounding the building, waiting to slaughter anyone who steps foot outside.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Artisan agreed, his smile easing into something softer; something with less feral teeth.

“Thank you for helping me,” Eloise whispered. “What do we do now?”

Artisan hummed. He bent down and swept up her book, dropping it into her lap. He laid back against his pillow and crossed his arms behind his head. The bloodspots on his skin and clothes glittered in the lowlight. 

“Keep reading. I want to know how it ends.”