#i love to see it and not the usual ‘hes self centered’

[nordickies]

Your takes on the various relationships between the Nordics are so good that I can’t help but asking you about Denmark and Sweden! Do you think they might have a relationship that gives them something they can’t get from anyone else? Can they be open with each other considering their long rivalry?

To me, they're "old men" with lots of life wisdom and experience on their back. But they're still the same rebellious rascals who don't know how to express their love for each other through words. While they're the traditional heads of the family, they seem to regress to their irresponsible teenage selves, who will wrestle and prank each other when put into the same room.

Needless to say, they have had quite the journey. Their different personalities, goals, and perspectives caused them quite a deep rift in the past, but they have never despised each other; their feud was just the only way to let out their frustrations about their circumstances. In their most vulnerable, emotional state, they felt hurt and betrayed by the other, leading to grudges. But they never wanted to bring their brother down. They only wanted the other to understand their pain and how unfair they felt about their situation. To make them feel even an ounce of the pain they have felt. But even with all the fighting, they had a deep unspoken trust and care for each other; they were just pissed that the other didn't see it.

Sweden has always had a strong will, and he needs to walk his own path on his own accord, or he'll get rowdy. He has always had the drive to make something great out of himself, and perhaps in his youth, this manifested as jealousy for Denmark. Den always seemed to be one step ahead. Perhaps it always felt like nothing escaped Den; he knew everyone's secrets, and you couldn't hide anything from him. And imagine how much that must have annoyed angsty teenage Sweden. He doesn't like to be told what to do, but the Dane always had an opinion on anything he did (and he still does). Sweden needed to learn to ignore it and not let it get under his skin, but he sometimes still struggles with it. Something about Denmark explicitly pointing out his flaws hurt more than anything else.

Meanwhile, Sweden's thick-headedness has always frustrated Denmark to no end. Swe can't accept help or consider he may be wrong at times; it's his black-and-white thinking on certain aspects. In his youth, Sweden did things the hard way - just so that he could oppose Denmark. Perhaps the Dane feels he needs to get Swe to loosen up. Denmark doesn't understand why Sweden can't just let him help. He doesn't understand why doing things on his own is so important to him. Denmark also finds Sweden rather dramatic; mistakes and oversights can make Swe blow things out of proportion and cause friction with his friends. To him, the Swede is just a younger brother who thinks too highly of himself and can be too self-centered at times, which he isn't afraid to point out.

Speaking of which, Denmark is really just a typical older brother. He will call Sweden names and embarrass him for a lifetime, push or forcefully hug him, hide and steal his things - constantly testing Sweden's patience to the limit. But it's only Den who can do this; he wouldn't tolerate anyone else outside the family annoying Sweden. However, Sweden isn't without his flaws either. He certainly likes to growl back at Denmark, but he manages to do it so discreetly that he never gets the blame. That's pretty much Swe's tactic: seek attention and sympathy points from others whenever Denmark is annoying him. He usually turns people against Denmark and blames him for everything, even when Den has had nothing to do with it. Who else would get the blame but the oldest sibling, anyway? Still, Sweden gets extremely defensive if someone pesters his brother and steps in if someone is seeking a fight with him, surprising everyone else

The brothers recognize they're acting childish and harsh, but they can't explain why they keep doing it. Maybe Denmark and Sweden don't nag or yell at others, so naturally, they do it with each other. But they can also be unapologetically themselves. Den and Swe don't care if they are annoying or bothersome to the other; more than anything, they deserve it! They have seen each other's worst sides and put up with it all, meaning nothing can shatter their bond anymore. And it's oddly comforting, in a way. They still test each other and quarrel about incidental things but find comfort in each other's company anyway. All the work they had to put into accepting each other and trying to understand the other's perspective has paid off. Deep down, they have immense respect for their brother. In their youth, they never really considered that their interests and goals were so surprisingly similar.

They both like slow living, as neither is as adventurous as Norway or as adrenaline-seeking as Finland. They want their slow mornings and take a moment to read the morning news. Take their deserved breaks at work and get home early to cozy up. Perhaps their ideal day is just sitting for coffee and watching the world go by. Spend a moment staring at construction projects downtown and pondering about them. They walk around the park and talk about the various projects they need to finish around the house, how the roof should be fixed and the grass should be mowed. At the same time, they do not shy away from brutal honesty and expressing their opinions about each other. In brotherly fashion, they play together, piss each other off, cheat during games, steal each others' food, seek sincere advice, scold each other, and make sacrifices when the other needs them.

I think they still struggle a bit with vulnerability, and when they have troubles, they both turn to Norway's advice out of old habits. It just feels easier opening up to him for some reason. Den and Swe have needed to learn and respect each other's differences and rebuild the trust they have lost so many times. It's just a matter of daring to open up and get out of their comfort zones, forcing themselves to understand the other's point of view.

They share a special kind of experienced wisdom none of the other Nordics have quite attained. Life took them on two different roads, but they found each other in the end. As much as they wanted to differentiate from each other in their youth, they were united by their similarities and kinship by the end. It just required a lot of maturing from both of them. Maybe uniting after their past grudges is the most significant accomplishment, and thus, their relationship nowadays means a lot to both of them (even if they won't admit it).

Other relationship breakdowns Norway/Denmark II Norway/Sweden

[slttygeto]

gojo stans who love him so softly. gojo stans who say the sweetest most random and humanizing things about him that make my heart melt and everything in me becomes squishy. gojo stans who look at him and think “that man gives amazing hugs” or “he looks like he would know how to comfort you”

i love soft gojo stans

[vespertinefantasy]

.

[baldval]

VALENTINE'S DAY W HAZBIN!₊˚⊹♡

characters: vox, charlie, valentino, lucifer, adam, lute, alastor

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, slightly suggestive content if you're reading adam.

VOX:

𖹭 the place is absolutely decorated when you get up in the morning.

𖹭 i'm talking heart balloons, flowers, and rose petals all across the floor.

𖹭 when you come into the living room, he's still in his jammies and sitting on the couch.

𖹭 you loved when he looked like that, so carefree, a contrast from his usual self.

𖹭 "Vox, what's all this?" you ask smiling

𖹭 "it's all for you, obviously."

𖹭 he stands up and walks towards you, he lifts you up and spins you around.

𖹭 you place your hands on his chest as he gently lowers you back to the floor.

𖹭 "you deserve the entire world," he whispers.

𖹭 he plants a kiss on your lips and you instantly blush.

𖹭 with a foolish smile, he wishes you a happy Valentine's Day.

𖹭 you give him lots of kisses, leaving marks all across the screen.

𖹭 you say, "I have something for you."

𖹭 "you do?"

𖹭 "duh" you chuckle

𖹭 you were aware that Vox had his eye on this watch.

𖹭 it had this gorgeous crimsom strap that matched his tie. 𖹭 when he notices it, all he does is look at you. 𖹭 love obscuring his vision 𖹭 he's amazed that you're his. 𖹭 and he feels quite fortunate. 𖹭 he carefully places the watch on the counter. 𖹭 then gives you a kiss so intense you almost feel like you're actually in heaven.

CHARLIE:

𖹭 when you walk in to your room, there are roses on your desk.

𖹭 with an enormous chocolate box of course

𖹭 and a, quite long, love letter

𖹭 the fact that she can't wait to just see you and be able to actually hold you

𖹭 you're grinning broadly to yourself.

𖹭 and you joyfully shove chocolate after chocolate into your lips.

𖹭 she doesn't meet you in the lobby, like you thought she would.

𖹭 she appears at your room.

𖹭 "hi, babe," she exclaims, excited.

𖹭 she approaches and greets you with a kiss.

𖹭 "thank you so much for everything. you say to her, "I have something for you too, you know."

𖹭 she is unable to remove her lips from yours.

𖹭 you take something out of a desk drawer as you pull her into your lap. 𖹭 you pry it open, and she lets out a half-gasp.

𖹭 you were able to get her a unique, gorgeous necklace. 𖹭 at the center is a quite shiny heart. 𖹭 you help her put it on, and the chain fits neatly around her clavicle. 𖹭 she has what is probably the biggest smile you've ever seen. 𖹭 from now on you notice, she never, ever removes the necklace.

VALENTINO:

𖹭 extravagant king.

𖹭 his name is literally Valentine so of course he'll take the day off for you.

𖹭 you and him are hand in hand on a pier.

𖹭 he's obviously wearing his best clothes, and of course you are too.

𖹭 before you know it, it's just the two of you on a small yacht.

𖹭 and the necessary employees, but they're not the main focus.

𖹭 he lavishes you with presents

𖹭 chocolate, that perfect piece of jewelry, and a tiny plush animal that he says reminded you of him

𖹭 you share a meal on the balcony while chatting and having fun.

𖹭 all while playing footsie beneath the table.

𖹭 he seems to be focusing solely on you when you talk to him.

𖹭 because he really is, staring at you with adoration.

𖹭 with your backs against each other, you sit in the living room.

𖹭 your head resting on his shoulder while his fingers comb through your hair

𖹭 he breathes steadily and deeply.

𖹭 "i wouldn't really mind if this was all we did for the rest of our lives," he says

𖹭 you plant a kiss on his shoulder while gazing out to sea.

𖹭 "that wouldn't bother me either,"

𖹭 in some way, he draws you even nearer to him.

𖹭 he kisses your face all over

𖹭 "well that's great. since you're everything to me."

LUCIFER:

𖹭 truly a hopeless romantic

𖹭 his pissing in his underwear while waiting for you.

𖹭 you open the door and say hello to him.

𖹭 the ceiling and walls are illuminated by candlelight, creating a dim atmosphere.

𖹭 there are rose petals all over the path that leads to the living room.

𖹭 you walk slowly towards him.

𖹭 he's kinda just standing there.

𖹭 and it's pretty obvious he's nervous.

𖹭 he grabs hold of your hands and draws you in.

𖹭 "hey," he says, his voice cracking right away.

𖹭 "i missed you," you say

𖹭 he murmurs back, "yeah, I missed you too, so much."

𖹭 for a small instant, he remains silent.

𖹭 but he goes on after that.

"i love you so much, and i know we've talked about how we both want to get married. and, i'll be honest, i can't imagine my life without you, and i'm just so... so in love with you, and I'm sorry, I'm rambling, it's just-" he stops suddenly, taking a deep breath.

𖹭 as he drops to one knee, his hands follow your hips and sides. 𖹭 he takes out a tiny velvet box from inside his coat. 𖹭 you have mentioned getting married before. 𖹭 and you are well aware that he is pretty much your soulmate. 𖹭 and it's Valentine's Day, so of course, he's popping the question. 𖹭 and you naturally answer: "yes". 𖹭 he stands up rapidly, your lips colliding with his. 𖹭 he tightens his grasp around the small of your back. 𖹭 he will always hold onto you.

ADAM:

𖹭 the sun began to set on valentine's day.

𖹭 adam, as charming as they come, is dressed to impress.

𖹭 he strutted alongside you as you walked towards a bench.

𖹭 the bench had this incredible view of the sea.

𖹭 adam sat down right beside you, your thighs touching.

𖹭 the times where adam was in silence were not many, yet always impactful.

𖹭 you stared at the sun as he stared at you.

𖹭 his eyes were fixated on your face, analysing your features.

𖹭 "why are you looking at me like that?" you're blushing.

𖹭 "i got something for you." he avoids your gaze now.

𖹭 clearly, adam is not used to vulnerability.

𖹭 and there was something about him being with you that just made him feel seen.

𖹭 he takes out a small box.

𖹭 "it's nothing really" he says as you open it.

𖹭 inside there's a mixtape.

𖹭 you read the names of the songs, not recognising any.

𖹭 "are these yours?" he nods.

𖹭 "the last one is named after you, actually"

𖹭 you look at him, eyes wide open, surprised at his gesture.

𖹭 with a sly smile and a playful roll of your eyes, you leaned in to steal a kiss, your heart fluttering with excitement.

𖹭 "who knew the first guy to ever exist would be such a romantic?" you teased, unable to hide the fondness in your voice.

𖹭 "you should play the mixtape as we fuc-"

𖹭 "of course you had to ruin it" you chuckle as he smirks.

𖹭 he wraps his arm around your shoulder and you lay your head on his chest.

LUTE:

𖹭 she gives you several quick kisses to wake you up.

𖹭 "hey, sleepyhead. i need you up.

𖹭 you blink away the sleepiness, as she continues to plant lips on your cheeks and jaw.

𖹭 "come on, babe, we have a reservation," she whines.

𖹭 "a reservation, huh?"

𖹭 "yes, please get up right now."

𖹭 she puts on a sharp dress shirt and matching dress pants.

𖹭 she gives you a bouquet of your favorite flower as you meet her at the door.

𖹭 she takes one of the flowers, clips it, and tucks it behind your ear.

𖹭 you then walk to a close cafe, arm in arm.

𖹭 it isn't really that fancy but it is beautiful.

𖹭 the place is filled with tulips and it smells like what you figured spring would smell like.

𖹭 in a quiet space, a table is already prepared for the two of you.

𖹭 you two laugh while eating breakfast.

𖹭 you two could chat for hours on end and never get bored.

ALASTOR:

𖹭 he's just getting started with all of this relationship stuff.

𖹭 he had no one to share valentine's with before to this year.

𖹭 thus, he is anxious and perplexed.

𖹭 but of course he will do everything in his power to hide it, keeping his smile to appear calm.

𖹭 after work, he brings a bouquet home with him.

𖹭 they are your favourite colour and flower.

𖹭 because of course he knows every single thing that you love.

𖹭 and he brings cake instead of chocolate.

𖹭 "aw, Alastor." you blush

𖹭 "well, i didn't find any chocolate boxes shaped like hearts, but i did find a cake shaped like a heart."

𖹭 you chuckle

𖹭 but it doesn't truly bother you

𖹭 quietly, he says, "i made sure to get your favorite flavor, and i swear there's no human parts in this"

𖹭 "it may not be much, but it is what I could find,"

𖹭 you interrupted him with a kiss.

𖹭 "Alastor" you say his name and his eyes flutter.

𖹭 "i don't think you could ever guess how happy you make me"

𖹭 he feels like his heart is trying to burst out of his chest. 𖹭 he draws you into a close embrace. 𖹭 you spend the evening eating cake and snuggling on the couch.

[superectojazzmage]

My Adventures With Superman is honestly a really impressively good example of how you can make an adaptation radically different and new while still doing justice to the source material by just approaching said source from a place of love and respect. The show is unabashedly and upfrontly meant to be a very explorative and experimental take on Superman that does the classic premise in new ways, revamped for another time and medium.

So many of the characters, designs, aesthetics, and world feel so extremely unfamiliar and unlike “traditional” Superman. But it still FEELS like Superman. The core, the spirit, the SOUL is absolutely and unmistakably there. The characters are all incredibly in-character and instantly recognizable. The plotting and writing feels straight off the page of the comic.

Even with major reinventions, this is so obviously and clearly Superman. Not some hoary “deconstruction” or obnoxiously self-aware “parody”, it’s just unabashedly honest-to-God played absolutely straight Superman. Even through all the changes, it’s that same classic, undistilled, nostalgic vibe of a Superman comic with Clark as a lovable, goofy guy with powers trying to be an example to the world, fighting crazy bad guys, helping old ladies across the street, and winking to the reader after Lois and Jimmy fail to see through his disguise yet again before cringing because Perry yelled at him for calling Perry “chief” again.

Hot, overeager tomboy Lois Lane is a bit different from usual but she’s so clearly still that same gorgeous would-be star reporter that every Superman falls in love with. Jimmy has been reimagines as kooky conspiracy buff, but he’s still ultimately Superman’s Pal who gets into wacky situations by virtue of being Superman’s Pal. Perry, Lombard, Ronnie, and Cat are all very different from the comics superficially — hell, Ronnie has had his gender flipped — but they are all still instantly recognizable as the same eccentric bunch of newsfolk they were there. Livewire and the Intergang members are all totally changed but at their center, they’re the same; same powers and gimmicks, etc.. Dr. Ivo is now a douchey techbro and yet he’s still fulfilling the very same role he does in the comics as a self-centered mad scientist who creates things that spiral beyond his control. Even Parasite, the most radically altered of all to the point of no longer being sentient, is still identifiable as his core concept of a monster that feeds on the lifeforce of others and becomes more powerful as he does, while also weakening when he can’t do so.

I really, really like it. It’s a wonderfully imaginative and well-put-together take on a very old series that really brings the concept into the modern age in a way that hasn’t really been done successfully outside the comics since the DCAU back in the 90s and early 2000s. People writing Superman or just superhero fiction in general should absolutely take notes from this show.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

use me (mv33)

max x reader

summary: max needs a way to take his frustrations out, you offer yourself to him

notes: !! contains smut minors dni !! i have other stories in the works but as a max girlie this took precedent, it had to be done after watching the singapore quali

You were on the edge of your seat watching the remaining 15 cars zoom around the track. Both the Red Bulls had been having issues during the weekend, not driving as fast as they had been in previous races.

You watched as your boyfriend, the reining world champion, made his final lap in Q2, scoring fairly low, and just falling further down the list as other drivers crossed the line. Liam Lawson of all people was the one to push Max down to 11th. You had to admit the kid was talented, but you knew Max was going to be very unhappy with the results.

You knew you were right when you saw Max get out of his car before they had even pulled it into his garage. He stormed away, pulling his helmet off his head as someone practically had to chase after him.

“He’s going to be pleasant.” A voice pulled your attention away from the scene in front of you.

Christian stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his headset now resting around his neck.

“He’ll be fine.” You tell him, however you know just how explosive Max can get when he doesn’t do well.

“You should go see him, calm him down. He won’t kill you.”

You snort. “Right.”

“Think you can calm him down in the next 30 minutes?” He asks.

“I can try.” You stand up to start heading in the direction Max walked off in.

You find him sitting in a corner, drinking from his water bottle, his eyes trained on the ground ahead of him.

You stand next to him and run a hand through his hair. While he would usually lean into you, craving more of your touch, he doesn’t react now, unmoving from his current position.

“How are you?” You ask, in an attempt to tread safely.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’m great, how are you?” He doesn’t hide the sarcasm in his tone.

You tilt his chin up so that he’s looking you in the eyes. You can practically see the anger swimming around in the blue eyes you fell in love with.

“You know the press are going to eat you alive if you walk in with that attitude.” You tell him.

He rolls his eyes, and looks back down ahead of him. “They’ll be cheering, dancing on my grave.”

You glance down at your watch. 25 minutes until Max will be needed for press. 25 minutes to bring back your happy Max.

“C’mon.” You take his hand, and slowly pull him up.

“Where are we going?” He asks, following you.

You lead him back to Red Bull hospitality, taking him up to his driver’s room. It’s small, a massage table sits in the corner, a shelf against the wall with more race suits and fireproofs.

“You need to get your anger out before you go do press.” You tell him as you lock the door.

“What, do you want me to throw things around the room?” He asks with his hands on his hips.

“I want you to fuck me.” You tell him, your voice completely serious.

He looks shocked for a moment. The two of you were always pretty private in your relationship, never showing too much PDA, and never having sex anywhere outside of your home. His shock soon dissipates, and turns into thoughtfulness, as if he’s thinking about the risk versus the reward.

You walk towards him in the center of the room. Your hands lift to his shoulders, softly massaging them before your arms wrap around his neck. You lean your head towards his, softly nudging your nose against his. He already looks like he’s losing his self control, his eyes watch your lips as you whisper to him.

“Use me, Max.”

He dives down to kiss you, his lips firm against yours. There’s no asking for permission for his tongue to enter your mouth, it pushes past your lips and tangles with yours.

You grip onto his hair as he hoists you up on the massage table. He stands between your legs, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a trail of teeth marks on any skin he can find.

He tugs your shirt and bra off, flinging them to some corner of the room, desperate to have access to more of you. He travels down your chest, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples, teeth softly biting at it while his fingers find the other, pinching at it. After he’s satisfied he switches to the other, continuing his work.

Your pants and underwear are the next to come off as Max trails his fingers along your center. He smirks when he feels your hips move to meet his hand.

He pulls a whimper from you when his thumb brushes against your clit. He kneels down, pulling you to the edge of the table and lifting your legs over his shoulders. His hands press down on your abdomen to keep you still as his tongue laps over you.

His nose brushes against your clit, send a jolt to your hips. His hands press down harder on you as his eyes look up to meet yours. They’re a stormy blue now, his pupils enlarged and eyelids hooded.

“Stay still.” He says, his voice low and rough.

His tongue is quick to continue prodding against you, slowly pushing inside you as you let you a long moan. One of your hands flies to his hair, tangling itself in his light brown locks, as your other keeps yourself propped up.

Your taste is sweet, one of his favorite flavors really.

“You taste so good mijn liefje.” He softly moans against you as he eats you out, his nose now bumping your clit over and over until you cry out his name, cumming on his tongue.

This only encourages him, as he takes everything you give him. Your body is tired, exhausted from keeping yourself upright, ready to collapse on the table.

Max stands up and it’s only then you realize that he’s still in his clothes, his race suit still hanging off his hips, while you’re completely bare in front of him.

“I’m not finished with you yet schat.” He shakes his head as he pulls you upright to kiss you.

You can taste yourself on him, but it doesn’t matter to you, not when he’s kissing you the way he is. It’s all tongue and teeth and it’s messy, but still so good.

He pulls you off the table, your legs slightly wobbling beneath you. You’re surprised when he turns you around, keeping your body trapped between his and the table. You hear his clothes move around some more, the thick fabric of his race suit rustling around, then you feel him softly kick your ankle with his leg.

You spread your legs for him, wide enough to allow him room, but still close enough that you can stand comfortably.

He reaches a hand around you to feel between your legs.

“Think you’re wet enough to take me?” He asks. Max has always been a caring lover, even in his dominant moods he still checks in with you.

“Yes Max, please fuck me.” You lean forward against the table and push your ass back against him. You can feel his cock press against you as he grabs onto your hips.

He fists himself a few times before lining himself up with you then pushing in.

The stretch is a lot but feels so good. Max stills for a moment, leaning down to press a kiss against the flushed skin on your back.

His sweet demeanor quickly turns back to his dominant one though, slowly pulling out, then giving a harsh thrust back into you. You try to grip onto the table for dear life as Max pounds into you from behind.

Your moans aren’t quiet, yet neither are his grunts. The door being the only thing blocking you from the rest of the Red Bull team is the farthest thing in your minds at the moment.

He wraps an arm around your middle pulling you up so that your back is pressed against his chest. He’s still wearing his fireproofs, only having pulled the pants down far enough so that he’d be able to bury himself inside you.

The new angle causes him to sink even deeper in you. You feel so full, so consumed by Max.

He grins when he feels you clench around him. His right hand travels over your body, squeezing your breasts before stopping over your neck. He wraps his hand around it, putting a slight pressure on it as his other drops back down to where the two of you meet. He finds your clit, and rubs quick harsh circles into it.

He lets out a low laugh as you clamp down even tighter around him. He leans his head down, his lips brushing against your ear as he teases you. “You like that? Does that feel good?”

Your mind is so clouded over that you can only moan in response.

“Oh, you can’t use your words? You’re just dumb for my cock huh? It’s a good thing you’re so pretty.” He bites down on your neck, sucking a dark hickey onto it. “Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me again?”

You nod your head, feeling something tighten in your core for the second time tonight.

It only takes a few more rough thrusts before he’s got you cumming again, his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer.

The hand on your clit moves to your hip so that he can control his movements. His release follows as his thrusts become sloppy and erratic. You feel his warm cum fill you up as he holds himself inside you. He keeps himself there as you both come down from your highs. He softly presses kisses to your back as you catch your breath.

You hiss when he slowly pulls himself out. His hand falls away from your neck as he uses both to make sure you don’t collapse to the floor. He turns you back around and lifts you back up onto the table.

He finds a towel and spreads your legs to help clean you up. The sight in front of him causes his cock to stir with interest again, his cum is seeping out of you, trailing down your thighs. Your skin shines with the layer of sweat that’s coated your body. Your chest rises and falls with every deep breath you take. Your neck has several marks along it, fresh hickeys to show what you’ve been up to.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asks, throwing the towel away to a corner of the room.

You give him a lazy smile. “Not at all. I really enjoyed that.”

“I love you.” He says, helping you back down from the table.

“I love you too.”

You’re both quiet at you get dressed again. You still feel a little wobbly on your feet, but are beginning to regain your balance.

“So do you think you can handle the press without chewing anyone’s head off?” You ask him as you both head to the door.

“Oh definitely.” He grins.

He wraps an arm around your waist as you leave his driver’s room and head back to the main area of the paddock.

Max gives you a quick kiss before he separates from you to do his post qualifying interviews, leaving you with the rest of the team.

When Christian spots you he sighs. “Y/n… no…” he says as he looks at the marks along your neck and the way your legs shake if you stand in one spot for too long.

You shrug. “What? You told me to calm him down.”

Needless to say everyone was surprised when Max was calm cool and collected during his interviews.

[fandomapocalypse]

Love and relationships in Hazbin Hotel

Episode 7 has something interesting and in the song that is called "Out for love" is sung by a character that is referring to a type of love different from a romantic or sexual one, Carmilla is openly talking about familial love. Vaggie of course relates this to her romantic feelings towards Charlie and how she wants to help her. But something else interesting happens in episode 7, Rosie is properly introduced as Alastor's bestie. This leads to showing another type of love: platonic love.

Now to the main point of this post: Alastor. It's canon that he is aroace and as an ace myself (I'm still questioning whether I'm aromantic or demiromantic but this post isn't about me lol) I'm extremely happy to see myself through him. Plus, the fact that the perfect Tumblr sexyman is aroace is genius and hilarious, you can't possibly top this type of humor.

Alastor for me has been a great ace representation and I've seen myself mainly in how he acts around his friends or other people.

When it comes to Niffty it looks more like a relationship between someone with their feral cat or their crazy little sister. But it's still a genuine connection and a fun chaotic one at that, he even lets her touch his hair and climb on him. In regards to Mimzy, he has shown he cares about her and welcomes her with open arms. He openly hugs her, which shocks everyone in the cast. This is extremely important because Alastor usually only starts physical contact to mock others or to pretend physical closeness as a manipulation tactic (like he often does with Charlie). When it comes to people he hates Alastor may touch them but will quickly wipe his hand on his clothes, like what he did with Lucifer. Personally, I don't like personal contact and only accept it if I start it and usually I use it as a way to show affection with close friends. Also, they have known each other since they were alive, so Mimzy probably knows a lot about Alastor that the rest of the cast doesn't. Mimzy also says that they used to dance together. But that doesn't exclude the fact that she uses Alastor's friendship and affection to save her own ass and taking into account how Husk reacted to Mimzy, this isn't the first time she does this. Also, the relationship between the two starts to crumble after what happened in episode 6 and Mimzy seems to be the kind of friend who will pretend that they are still on good terms and still ask Alastor for favors in the future.

Now jumping back to Alastor's true bestie: Rosie. They probably bonded at first over their cannibalistic natures but it's clear that it evolved beyond that. Personally, I don't ship Alastor with anyone, but when it comes to Rosie I headcanon they are in a QPR.

There are various reasons why this relationship is so great and wholesome, the first one being that there is no power imbalance, they are equals. Both are cannibalistic overlords and are on equal footing in terms of power. When Rosie first sees Alastor she is genuinely happy which is something new because most people react badly to him out of fear or hatred.

Alastor respects Rosie, he even compliments her, in her introduction he says she is "the most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord of this side of the pentagram". Considering how self-centered and narcissistic he can be, it means a lot. Alastor would rather die again than compliment another Overlord who isn't Zestial, which he respects but out of fear. Alastor respects Rosie as his close friend. When they stand next to each other they give an air of equals, something that never happens thanks to Alastor's ego and sadism towering over everyone else. With Rosie it's different and Rosie can openly tease Alastor with the "Look at you, so polite! Alastor you can learn a thing or two" when comparing him to Charlie when meeting her, or "I'm just kidding, I know you're an ace in the hole" to tease him about his asexuality. This is something that not a lot of people can do because Alastor is obsessed with control and respect. After all, we see how badly he reacted when Husk insulted him.

He also harmonizes with her, he willingly makes a duet with her in "Ready for this". He isn't interrupting her, instead, he agrees with her and they sing together in unison. This is the first time he doesn't openly hijack a song or fight for control over it, like he did with Vox and Lucifer (although this also happened because this is Charlie's song, but who cares the point still stands). Also, this is the first time we see him dance with someone, instead of forcing them to join his musical number (like he does with Charlie on various occasions). Alastor and Rosie are in perfect sync and it's so wholesome and precious to see him being so openly happy with her. Many have pointed out that the only times Alastor is genuinely smiling is when he is with Rosie and it shows by his expression in his eyes.

Finally, Rosie is the only one capable of bringing the most human emotions out of him, the most obvious one being confusion. In the scene of "ace in the hole" Rosie manages to confuse and surprise Alastor for a solid second, which is a huge change of his persona around everyone else of control and manipulation. Also, it's hilarious that Alastor doesn't know what being aroace is, he probably thinks he is above all that.

He is openly relaxed around Rosie and lets her touch him in an affectionate way, something that not even Mimzy can do. It may be because of the height difference but Mimzy only touches Alastor to hug him and to emphasize he is a "heartless son of a bitch" and Alastor clearly gets irritated by her touching him that way and even moves her finger away from him. This never happens with Rosie and he even welcomes her touching him by not having any walls with her. It's Rosie the one starting the physical contact and Alastor doesn't seem to mind and he never tries to use physical contact to take advantage of her like he does with other characters. Rosie is one of the few people who can touch Alastor without losing an arm and instead have a positive reaction out of him.

The most genuine relationship Alastor has is with Rosie, he even has the confidence and comfort to stop his elegant and reserved persona of not swearing. Which he only does when he is truly angry, like what happened with Lucifer. Or when he is threatening someone like he did with Adam. Or when he is shocked when his microphone breaks. He swears to insult Susan, which is someone they both despise equally. Something that you would only do with your closest bestie.

Finally, let's talk about Alastor's breakdown in the last episode. We've already seen that Alastor is capable of having friendships that aren't based on an end goal. Alastor knows this but he rejects it because he is at the hotel originally for selfish goals and doesn't want his emotions to get in the way. He is terrified of ruining his reputation as a sadistic killer and becoming an altruistic who cares about his friends. Alastor wants to stop himself from starting to care about the crew the same way he cares about Rosie, Mimzy, or Nifty to some degree. This is confirmed by his conversation with Niffty, where he admits he has grown accustomed to the main crew and perhaps he is growing feelings of affection towards them in his own way.

In regards to shipping him with Rosie, I see it as a platonic ship or a QPR. Some people have a headcanon that if they had known each other when they were alive they would have married for tax benefits and to avoid the social stigma, which is the only right answer. When they first met in hell they probably had dates in cannibal town where they ate human flesh while gossiping and trash-talked about the other overlords. Which is exactly what an ace person like myself wants from a close friendship.

As an ace, I really like Alastor not because he is the ultimate Tumblr sexyman or see him as hot but because he is an extremely fun character that I can relate to. I'm grateful for the crew and VA that take into account he is aroace and take seriously that aspect of his character. I don't mind that the aroace representation in Hazbn Hotel is a narcissistic psychopath, if you want a more wholesome ace representation you can check Todd in Bojack Horseman or Saiki in The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

I don't mind people shipping Alastor, after all, it's just people having fun, but you can't ignore that he is aroace and how this affects his relationships. So yeah have fun and respect and aroace community :)

ok thanks for hearing my rant bye

[little-star-library]

Headcanons: Cockwarming with Astarion

18+ only (MDNI please)

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Warnings/Tags: fem!reader, smut, vulgar language, swearing/cursing, cockwarming, teasing, biting, blood, blood drinking, PinV penetration, fluff, intimacy, praise kink, breeding kink (kinda?), consensual environment, light hurt/comfort, light angst, talk of body autonomy

Summary: I must admit that this little ‘daydream’ has been banging around in my head for a while now and this seemed like a good time as any to put it into words. This is kinda self-indulgent, but we’re just gonna roll with it. Sorry, but not sorry if I got a little carried away.

There were moments of intimacy that you shared with Astarion on multiple occasions where the two of you would revel in each other’s pleasure until the sun came up, making you come undone over and over until you could take no more. But there were other times where Astarion needed something else, something that only you could provide for his innermost desires.

You would be the first to suggest this when he had been unsure of his intentions, when he was anticipating your union but was nervous that he would somehow scare you away if he started to disassociate during the heat of the moment like he’s done countless times before so he could hide inside his mind until the deed was done. But he would never want to do that while he was with you. You were so kind to him and showed that there was more to him than lust or physical attraction, that he was his own person and he had a say in making his own decisions. He adored you terribly and yearned to shower you with his love and praise until you were so desperate to find your release, but he also had doubts that he couldn’t be able to give you the kind of love you deserve. You of course reassured him that if it was something that he did not want to participate in, then that you both could just go to sleep for the night.

He didn’t reply to the inquiry of your proposition for a brief second, taking his time to consider it as he felt the little twitch of his erection squeezed against his trousers while you were straddling his hips and gazing down at your lover with all the love and affection you held for him within your eyes, making his hips rut up towards your center and a hitched breath escaping from his throat at the friction you granted him.

“I uh, well—,” he cleared his throat and straightened out his posture to hold you closely in his arms. “I suppose we could try, but I don’t see how that would work since I won’t be able to resist the temptation to absolutely rail you into the ground, my dear.” His voice lowered to a seductive octave as he whispered those words to you and cradled your face so he could kiss you sweetly with a heated undertone, his fangs lightly nipping at your bottom lip.

“Anything for you, Astarion.” You gasped between bated breaths. “But only if you want to, alright?” You reluctantly pulled away from his lips to look down to see that salacious expression of his that always made you weak as his eyes bore a darkened haze and his pupils blown wide with desire.

“Oh, but I really do, darling. So won’t you please show me?”

After that first occurrence, he couldn’t get enough of your embrace as you held him in his arms while he filled you to the brim with his cock, just to fully grasp the sensation of the warmth that emanated from your body both inside and out. He, albeit reluctantly, admitted to you afterwards that he enjoyed the experience and what also transpired later that night, finding the encounter to help ease him into a more comfortable headspace and your whispered praises to be pleasant in grounding him back to you and the shared moment.

However, he made it a request that he only ‘prepare you’ before every session. Saying that he would be ever so worried if he hurt you unintentionally and it was usually with his mouth or fingers, or even a combination of the two so he could savor the sight of you squirming beneath him while he made you more drenched and pliable for his swollen member that was aching to be inside you.

The harmonious moans that you both exchanged as he stretched your walls was like music to your ears, basking in the warmth and presence of your union and sighing into each other’s mouths while you tenderly and languidly kissed with no rush to deepen your passion. It was as if time stood still and there was only you and him in this world where you could escape to without any fear or expectations of what’s to come the next day.

And then there were days that Astarion eagerly grew to enjoy where he would ask to drink of your essence during the act, and who would you be to deny him? The sensation of his fangs sinking into your jugular was always a tad painful, but then it rose into a euphoric wave over your body as the creeping tendrils of blood loss took upon you and it was pure divine bliss. You could feel the pull of your blood flowing to meet his lips while he suckled at the wound and it made your walls clench around him, rewarding you with a muffled groan against your neck. He liked to tease you during this too and would lightly rub your swollen bundle of nerves in slow circles or grazing his teeth across your hardened nipples, always making sure that you were watching him as he sucked one into his wet, bloodied mouth and pinching the other between his thumb and forefinger. He took delight in hearing your breathing stutter and those wanton moans that got caught in your throat, his ego soaring at the fact that he was pleasing you so well with his touch alone, urging his cock to spasm uncontrollably around your tight heat as he canted his hips to thrust into you deeper.

“You feel absolutely sublime, darling. You’re so good to me, so sweet.” He peppered you with sloppy kisses and nibble your skin between his teeth, laying claim to you as his with hickeys and bite marks and loving how you were panting and flustered by his honeyed words.

To see his facial features soften at your touch when you would grasp his hair and leaving kisses all over his face made your heart flutter at his open vulnerability and to have him trust you so completely to have him at your mercy meant the world to you.

You were the one who suggested this in the beginning, to let him keep his cock nestled between your legs and to take his time relaxing from a strenuous day while you sat in his lap, but he couldn’t help but think that you may have learned a thing or two just to keep him on his toes.

Sometimes he will only be in the mood to just sit there with you and talk about your day, making you giggle at his hilarious imitations of something your other traveling companions were arguing about, in which he’d have you in a babbling mess when trying to speak and he relished the sensation of his throbbing shaft being squeezed tighter by your dripping cunt when you laughed at his little jokes. He thought it was so endearing to spend time with you like this, even if your current disposition was rather vulgar in a sense. He liked to hear your laughter, but he wanted to hear you moan for him even more when he would tease you for what felt like hours upon hours.

“Aww, look at you, you poor thing.” He smirks at your whimpering and trembling form as it rested atop his lap, lowering his hand downward to fondle over your pulsing clit with the lightest of strokes to keep you on the edge and he had to hold in the groan that was caught in his throat from you clenching around him into a taut vice from doing so. “So desperate for me to fuck you ceaselessly until you see stars, aren’t you? But I think I’ll keep you here just a little longer, I quite enjoy seeing you looking so depraved like this.”

It would take everything for him to tame himself and contain the urge to flip you over and take your pleasure in a multitude of scandalous positions, but the sight of you wriggling in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear was just exhilarating and absolutely worth the wait to see you struggle within his grasp.

And if he was feeling a little more degenerate, he would entice you to let him use your mouth instead while he would read you passages from his current book that he was engulfed with. You would have your lips wrapped around the head of his thick cock while you lay between his legs, slowly bobbing your head to set a rhythm as you would gently suck and lick at the dribbling pre-cum that would leak from his tip. The only catch was that you would not allow him to reach his climax no matter how much he wanted it, insisting that you were to only keep him warm and that about tortured him. But the way that he would cup your face and stroke your sweaty hair back as you looked up at him with your mouth full made you question your judgment entirely. The look of lust and adoration behind his eyes as you took him deeper down your throat made your eyes flutter and you were willing to do anything he would desire if he kept looking at you like that for the rest of your life.

Over time, Astarion’s feelings for you would evolve more and more and he actually started to fantasize a life with you. The thought of your belly swollen with his cum and eventually growing with his child was intoxicating, wanting to breed you until his seed would surely take. He never thought he would ever be a father given his track record. But with you, it felt like a genuine possibility even though the aspect of conceiving dhampyr offspring was next to far impossible. It scared him at first, thinking that maybe your little group of adventurers wouldn’t even survive the upcoming war to defeat the netherbrain, or worse, that you wouldn’t reciprocate the attraction he had for you. But you surprised him, like always, after his confession at the desolate resting place that was his grave and found out you shared the mutual affection for one another. But the inevitable happened and the reign of the Absolute was no more and now that you and Astarion had all the time in the world to explore your relationship, the fantasy was pressuring his mind constantly and had to come clean about it. Although he was nervous to tell you, you were more than eager to at least try.

Astarion loved to have you at the cusp of your climax and teasing you for hours while he usually made love with you, but he was reduced into a desperate frenzy when all he could think about was breeding you until you milked him for every single drop of his cum, wanting more than anything to slowly grind his hips against your own to make sure that none of it would leak out of you as his cock began to soften within your body.

“Now stay very still, my love, and keep those luscious hips of yours elevated for me.” He purred in your ear as you scratched lightly at his scalp. “ I want to make sure that you get every drop of my seed until it takes, until you bear our child.”

He would shower you in kisses and praises, telling you how good you were for him and saying how he doesn’t deserve someone as sweet as you are, but you reassure him that you cherished him more than he could ever comprehend and that there is no one other than him that you would consider when it came to this milestone in your life. Who knew that a simple act of intimacy would lead to a whole new experience full of life, love, and happiness? For what it’s worth, Astarion couldn’t think of anyone better than you beside him, no matter where your lives would take you. It was a pretty marvelous beginning of events after all.

[llycaons]

I feel bad judging teenage girls written by old misogynistic men but elayne is fully the worst fictional character to have been created by the human mind

[confusedmuggle]

Please

Bucky Barnes x fem!dom!reader

Summary: Bucky and you are just roommates right? So why can’t you get the image of him pleading to cum out of your head?

Part 1 - Needy Boy

a/n : a part 2 to Needy boy, can be read on its own though. Thank you so much for all the love on the first part! here is the second part, please comment any ideas for this fic or others, and or other things you want me write! Thank you, enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

just roommates. just roommates. at least that’s what you keep telling yourself. After Bucky fell asleep that night, you went back to your room to go to bed. It was a restless night, but you finally fell asleep, and by the time you woke up, Bucky had left already. He’d left a note saying he got called in early

but it wasn’t just that time. The next two days you didn’t see Bucky, not even once. You tried to think of why he would be avoiding you. He had certainly seemed to enjoy himself that night.

You huffed as you plopped on your bed. The past two days had been busy for sure, but you missed the broody hot man that you usually had the pleasure of seeing at least once a day. Your mind drifted as you laid there, going back to that night

“y/n…ngh..”

your thighs clamped together as you remembered the sounds he had made. “Fuck it. Bucky hasn’t been home for awhile anyways…”

you slipped your hands down your body. One went to cup your breast and the other down to circle the wet spot on your panties.

“mph…”

it had been so long since you’d had the pleasure to touch yourself, either too busy or too tired to be able to. you slipped your panties down your thighs and completely off, tossing them away to who knows where. You began to circle your clit and bit your lip, stifling a loud moan

“ngh..”

your breathing became heavier. you opened your eyes and -

fuck. “Bucky? “

you snatched the blanket and threw it over your body quickly

“what the hell are you doing here?!”

Bucky stood in the doorway of your room, unmoving. his gaze going from your exposed self to your face once you put the blanket on. He moved his gaze to the floor and gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing

“I-well-“

you felt the blush rushing to your cheeks. How much had he really seen? “what are you doing here?”

“well I was-“ he cleared his throat, clearly nervous. You noticed his hands moving to cover his crotch, and how he was trying to make it look like he was just clasping his hands

“I was going to ask what you wanted for dinner but- “

you could tell he was nervous. he was switching his weight from one foot to the other and couldn’t seem to look you in the eye

“Bucky, do you need something?” You felt awkward with his just standing there, and the heartbeat between your legs was getting harder to ignore. His presence certainly didn’t help that. Your thighs squeezed together again

“I want you. I want to taste you. Please” as he said these foods he met your eyes. He looked desperate, like a starved man. She hands over his crotch seemed to pressed against his length as he said this, like he was also getting turned on from this conversation

You froze. Was he serious? The heat between your legs only grew. You stared into his eyes, feeling your breathing get heavier as you nodded. you carefully removed the blanket from yourself, letting him see your fully naked body.

“fuck” he uttered, followed by a involuntary moan. He stumbled over to you, already pussy drunk without even getting any. he gripped your thighs like they were the only thing keeping his grounded and look pleadingly into your eyes

“I’ve never- I don’t know how-“

you cut him off

“it’s ok, i can teach you Bucky”

You gently ran a hand through his hair, making him let out a little moan and close his eyes. *she gripped his hair now, firm enough to pull slightly but not cause pain. You gently guided him towards the center of your arousel ”go on. you’ll figure it out, ok? I’ll tell you what feels good and what doesn’t. Just be gentle, and no need to rush”

“it’s so…wet” he said, an air of awe in his voice

your back arched off the bed as he began, licking a stripe up your slit. He let out a guttural groan

“you taste so good…Jesus Christ y/n”

you carefully pushed his head closer to your heat, moaning as his nose brushed up against it. Bucky, it seemed, has lost all control of himself. He was like a starved man eating his first meal in years. “oh y/n… this is so good… you’re so beautiful… ngh…”

You’d noticed by now that he was rutting himself against your mattress as he ate you out… what a needy boy. “good boy, yes… just like that” your breathing quickened as you chased your release

Bucky let out a guttural groan and his hips stuttered

you smirked. Did he really just cum from eating you out?

“don’t stop now Bucky, come on, be good”

It wasn’t long before you came on his tongue. He didn’t stop, wanting to continue tasting you, until you pushed his head away

“that’s enough for now, Bucky. Come here”

You patted the bed beside you. Bucky stood up, his pants completely leaked through from his pre and orgasm.

“Bucky, have you been avoiding me?”

sorry for the cliffhanger, but I’ll be working on part 3! ❤️❤️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Happy weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The car comes to a stop. It takes you a minute to notice as you reel yourself back to reality. You blink through the tinted window as Merv turns the music down; a song about glory days or something. 

“Here we are,” he announces and cranes to look back at you, “have fun, miss.” 

“Have fun...” you whisper to yourself in confusion, “what? Where do I go?” 

He laughs, not mockingly, and he points through the window, “well, you’ll want to go into that restaurant and give them Mr. Barnes’ name. They’ll sort you out, I’m sure.” 

“Oh,” your brows draw together. A restaurant. What? 

You undo your seatbelt hesitantly and peer out through the glass again. This is strange. You’ve only had a few interviews and most of them were in cramped backrooms or closets. You pull the handle and let yourself out, thanking Merv before you step up on the curb. 

You shut the car door and hook your bag over your shoulder. You stare up at the restaurant’s marquee. It’s a bistro of some sort. Upscale by your measure, thought you have little experience beyond chain joints and fast food. The white facade with its tall windows is intimidating as you approach the entrance. 

As you step inside, you’re all but assured that you don’t belong. A woman greets you with a pearly smile, her hair in a wispy bun, as she sports a flowery white dress. You look back and forth as she cradles a tablet in one arm. 

“Do you have a reservation?” She asks. 

You look down at yourself. That’s a generous assumption. You don’t know how she’s not telling you to leave. 

“Erm, I... I think I’m looking for someone,” you say, “Mr. Barnes?” 

“Barnes, yes, party for two,” she taps the screen, “he’s waiting. Won’t you follow me?” 

She spins on her heels and strolls away. She’s tall and gorgeous, just like the woman at the casino. You peer around and find no less finery and beauty among the staff and diners. The table are all white and polished and the walls are hung with abstract paintings of heaping fruit and bright cocktails. You’ve never seen brunch done so extravagantly. 

You nearly trip as you look ahead just before you reach the stairs. The hostess climbs ahead of you. You envy her modelesque figure. How is she stuck here? She’s breathtaking. She could be in magazines. 

More importantly, where are you going? 

Several flights and you emerge into the open air. You've never been on a rooftop. You’ve seen things like these in movies. There’s a bar center to the space and tables beneath umbrellas set all about. There is only one diner despite the sunshine. It is strangely desolate for such a warm scene. 

You’re led to the only occupied table. Mr. Barnes stands as you near. He wears a pair of teal slacks and a patterned shirt with an open collar. Casual but just as refined as before. It hardly seems like job interview. 

“Doll,” he greets you with a kiss on the cheek to your surprise. You don’t comment on it, it might just be his way. “You made it.” 

“I...” you check your watch, “it was before noon when I got to the casino.” 

“That’s on me,” he insists as he pulls out the chair for you, “I got restless. Changed my mind. Please.” 

He gestures to the seat and you accept stiffly, moving your bag into your lap as he tucks the chair in under you. He resumes his seat and looks up at the woman patiently standing to the side, “Melody,” he says, “she’ll have a vodka cran, give me my usual. Thanks.” 

“Yes, Mr. Barnes,” she replies eagerly. 

“Oh, and the lunch menu,” he returns. 

She clacks off in her heels as you squirm and clutch your purse. You peer around the rooftop and finally at Bucky. You give a sheepish smile. 

“This is a nice place.” 

“Sure is,” he sits back carelessly. There is no tension in him but your wound tight as a spring. 

“Never been anywhere like this...” your eyes drift over and you stare at the city skyline. 

“Made sure we weren’t near the edge, doll,” he assures, “I remember you’re not a fan.” He rests a hand on the table, rubbing his index and thumb. “And I wanted to have this time alone so my pal did me a favour and cleared the roof.” 

“Oh, wow.” 

“He owns this place,” he shrugs. “Never got into the restaurant business. It’s fickle.” 

You nod, not knowing what to say. He knows about these things. Obviously, a lot. You’ve never even worked a full-time week of work. 

“How’s your sister?” He asks, “I assume you got home safe.” 

“Yes, er, thank you, again, for doing all that,” you bite your lip and his blue eyes catch the gesture as his eyebrow tweaks. “I’m really sorry she did that.” 

“Doll, you’re real sweet apologising for her,” he inclines his head slightly, “but you gotta worry about yourself, don’t ya? That’s why you’re here.” 

The hostess, Melody, reappears and sets down two glasses. Yours is bright red with a lime on the rim and his is dark, no ice. She lays down a menu in front of each of you and straightens her posture. 

“I have to get back to the door but Hailee will be up to help you shortly. Our specials today are a goat cheese and beet salad or a brown sugar salmon with seasonal veggies.” 

“Thanks,” Bucky says as he taps the menu. 

Melody leaves you again and you bend your neck to read the menu. You look for a price beneath the dishes and find none. That can’t be good. 

“I’m not very hungry,” you sit up straight. 

“Doll, don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” he circles his hand around his glass, “why don’t you try your drink? Make sure it’s up to snuff.” He sits forward and lifts his own, “cheers.” 

Your hand slips up the condensating glass before you get a grasp on it. You raise it and clink it against his. You bring it to your lips slowly as he does the same, mirroring you as he watches you intently. You gulp and set down the glass as your cheeks strain. 

“You don’t like it?” He wonders. 

“No, I... well, I don’t drink much,” you take the cloth napkin and dab your lips. 

“Ah, if that’s too tart, you can have a look at the cocktails. Some of them are so sweet, you wouldn’t know the difference.” 

“I’m okay,” you assure him, “so...” you swallow and force out your breath, “about the job--” 

“Damn, doll, I’m so all over the place lately, I didn’t even tell you how good you look.” 

“I...” your eyes widen but you quickly wipe away your shock, “that’s nice. I mean, thank you.” Your voice shakes as you struggle to comprehend the compliment. What do you say? “You too.” 

He smirks, “yeah, you think so?” 

“What?” Your voice cracks. 

“You think I look good?” He combs his fingers through his long hair. Oh god. 

“Yes,” you answer cautiously, “I like your shirt.” 

“You’re adorable,” he snickers and shakes his head, leaning forward once more, bending his arms against the table. 

“Uh...” you peek down at the table and back to him. You can’t even blame the sun that you’re about to melt. The umbrella blocks out the bright beacon though a glare comes over the edge. “Bucky, sir, Mr. Barnes,” you shuffle through his titles, “the job. What would that be?” 

His brows rise and he brings a hand up to drag over his mouth and beard, his fingers brushing along the trim of his jaw. 

“The job,” he repeats as he narrows his eyes, “ah,” he lowers his head and presses a fingertip to the menu, “let’s order before we get into all that.” 

You look over the menu again then raise your chin, “I appreciate it, but it’s too much, Bucky. I wouldn’t want to... waste your money.” 

“It’s my money,” he looks at you, “so I’ll decide how I waste it.” 

“Oh,” your cheeks set alight, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he tilts his head again, “you’re just that type of girl. You don’t know what it is to be treated so allow me to show you.” 

You’re confused. This is the oddest encounter you’ve ever had. You almost feel like it’s a joke. You’re this poor helpless girl and he’s flaunting how rich and powerful he is. Is there even a job? 

“I’d feel worse if you didn’t eat, so doll, don’t step on my toes.” 

You chew your cheek and look down again. That’s it. You’ll have the cucumber sandwich. That’s not too much. It can’t be. 

The waitress arrives, a different woman but just as stunning. She introduces herself as Hailee. Bucky prompts you to order first before he gives his own. As she leaves, you rock slightly in your chair, stilling yourself before you can look weird. 

“So... I could clean or... I could learn something--” 

“Let me stop your there, doll,” he puts a large hand up, his palm rough and lined. “It’s my turn to apologise. I... haven’t been honest with you.” 

Your heart drops and you can’t help the glimmer in your vision. No. You’re going to have to go home and tell your mother you failed again. That you wasted her time and gas. You close your eyes and frown. 

“Doll, doll,” he says and you hear his chair scrape. You open your eyes as he pulls his chair around to sit closer to you, “hey, let me finish here.” 

You look him in the eye. Big mistake. You could drown in the blueness. He smirks and rubs your arm. 

“I’m not... it’s not a job I have to offer you,” he says deliberately, his other hand fluttering on your knee, “I would call it an arrangement. Mutually beneficial.” 

You stare at him. You’re entire being is on fire. You don’t understand what he’s saying, more so, you can barely think with him touching you. 

“But... I need a job,” you sniffle. 

He scoffs, not unkindly, “you’ll have money. I know you got a family, your sister, maybe your parents? Economy’s tough, I know it.” 

“Money? For what?” 

He squeezes your knee and sits up, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he leans even closer, “for your company. For yourself.” 

“What?” Your voice piques sharply. “I don’t...” 

“Look, let’s take it slow here, alright? Today is the taster. We spend some time together, see how we vibe, and go from there. Now I know you went to a whole lot of trouble to get so nice and pretty for me today,” he coaxes, “and I’m not gonna waste your time so you won’t go home empty handed. One thousand.” 

“Thousand?” You breathe. 

“Just for lunch,” he says, “I’d pay a lot more so I’m open to bartering.” 

“That’s... a lot...” you mutter. 

“Nothing’s too much for a girl like you,” his fingers dance along your shoulder. 

“I... I...” you heave each word. 

“Now don’t you freak out,” he’s on the edge of laughing, “doll, I mean it. Just lunch. You and me. Nothing...” he pulls away from you and puts his hands up, “untoward.” 

He stands and moves his chair back across from you. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide, “I mean it. Let’s get to know each other. I want to know all about you, doll.” 

“Me?” You gulp. 

“You,” he points over the table, “you must like music. You went to that concert, didn’t ya?” 

You nod and curl your shoulders. 

“What kinda music you like?” 

“Oh, I... old stuff, I guess. Destiny’s Child?” You give a sheepish cringe. 

“Old school,” he remarks, “I like it. Spice girls too?” 

“Yeah,” you clamp your lips together. 

“I’m not teasing ya. I can’t lie and say I never turned the radio up when I heard them,” he chuckles, “no judgment. That goes for you too, alright? When you find out how much I like ABBA, you can’t giggle.” 

Your cheeks dimple as you try not to smile. It’s hard to imagine him listening to Dancing Queen. You push your shoulders higher and look away. 

“Don’t laugh,” he chides. 

“I didn’t,” you turn back to him. 

“Yeah, you’re too nice, that’s why,” he purrs, “you gotta tell me your fave ABBA song.” 

You shrug and he squints cynically, “everyone has one. Come on. Fernando?” You shake your head at his guess. “Waterloo?” Again, no. “Mamma Mia?” Nope. “Take a Chance on Me?” No. “Alright, I surrender, tell me.” 

“Gimme, Gimme, Gimme,” you eke out. 

“Hm, not what I would guess but interesting,” he muses as his eyes wander from your face and back up, “but I at least knew you had taste.” 

He winks and you let out a giggle. Whether your nervous or something else, you can’t untangle all your emotions from one another. Yet you do feel a little better, a little lighter. It’s an unexpected situation but not as bad as you foresaw. 

[writtenbymoonflower]

Shaken Soda

You have therapy and Remus is too kind. Remus Lupin x fem!reader. mondern!au

cw: mentions of therapy/mental health issues. Slight mention of unintentional self injury.

780 words

“Thank you, see you next week.” You muttered politely, exiting the small visiting room. 

“See you then.” Your therapist smiled warmly at you. You appreciated the gesture, but wrapped your arms around your middle protectively anyway.

"Bye." The word was just barely a whisper as you turned to walk down the hall, but you were interrupted.

“Oh by the way, we covered a lot today. I’m proud of you, Y/N. Just, make sure to look after yourself extra.” They gave another polite nod and skirted back into their office. You gave a tight-lipped smile at the now closed door before walking down the hall to the waiting area, dreading the walk home in the pouring rain and shivering cold. You pulled the hood of your coat over your head before checking your phone, stalling. 

Hey, dovey. It’s pretty nasty out so I’m going to come pick you up. Be there when you get out. x

You were equal parts grateful and distressed. Happy you wouldn’t be soaked down to your bones, but worried about your boyfriend seeing you in such a raw state. You checked the mirror by the entryway, wiping away mascara residue and pressing your cold hands to your cheeks in a desperate attempt to reduce the redness splotching over your eyes and nose. 

Though Remus would likely see through any attempts at sweeping your struggles under the rug, he was far more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for. 

You listened to the ding of the bell as you swung the door open, walking under the awning to where Remus’ black car was parked. You opened the door, being hit with a wave of toasty AC. 

“Hi lovely.” His amber eyes greeted you with their usual warmth. (Warmth that was pretty much reserved for you).

“Hey Remmy.” You said, much to quiet and reserved for his liking, leaning over the center console to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for the spin. You didn’t have to drive in the rain.” Your comment earned an eye roll from Remus, though he was still smiling as he pulled out onto the road.

“Don’t. I get to spend extra time with you, and I’ll never complain about that.” He placed a large hand on your thigh, gently kneading the flesh there. “Almost forgot,” He reached into the cupholder. “Got this for you.” You were handed a to-go cup full of coffee. Your favorite. You swore you could sob all over again. 

“Rem… You didn’t have to.” 

“I wanted to. Anyway it wasn’t completely selfless, I was craving a fog.” You still looked at him all glossy and doe eyed. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was so small. It was only when he looked over at you that he noticed your swollen features and red-rimmed eyes. He could swear there were burns on your cheeks from the scratchy material of your sleeves after being rubbed and wiped raw and cruelly. 

“You doin’ okay, sweet girl?” He tried hard to keep his eyes on the road and stop a notch of concern from appearing between his dark eyebrows, knowing it would only push you more into your shell. 

“Yeah, ‘m okay.” You picked at your nails. Remus took a deep breath. 

“I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” He started and you tried to keep from wincing. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him or didn’t want to tell him what you had discussed, the emotions it brought up, but you knew that when you cracked the lid on your frayed feelings, everything would come out all at once. Tears, murmured fears and all. You were like a pop bottle that had been violently shaken, one wrong move and a mess would be everywhere. “But I want you to know I’m proud of you.” He checked the road around him before making brief eye contact with you. “Really, really proud. I know it can be scary. But also, please know, I’m here if you every need to talk about anythin’. I’ve got you, sweet girl.” 

You nodded as he turned onto your street. You were still feeling raw, but you could feel it subsiding, just by being in his presence. “I know you do.” You looked over at him as he pulled up to your place and put the car in park. It didn’t take many long for you to unclick your seatbelt, leaning over your drinks and wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly. Remus stiffened in surprise, but then hugged you back, smoothing his hands up and down your thick coat. “Thank you.” You whispered into his neck. 

“It’s what I’m here for, lovely. I’m always gonna be here.” 

[lostfracturess]

symptoms and causes | ch. 03

ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader

ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

ღ wc 6.9 k

ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood / abuse, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

ღ author's note hope you like slightly longer chapters, i didn't know when to stop with this one really. anyway, thank you for reading and feel free to leave your thought, i love to read them! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world ♡ (fanart in the header)

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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"So, anyone else feeling like their brain is about to explode?" you half-joked.

Yuta looked up from his notes and nodded. "Definitely. I keep getting the side effects of beta-blockers and ACE inhibitors mixed up."

The university cafeteria buzzed with the nervous energy of students prepping for exams. You joined Toge, Yuta, and Maki at a corner table, each of you clutching a much-needed coffee. The air was thick with the scent of caffeine and the sound of pages flipping.

"Statins?" Toge muttered as he rubbed his temple. 

"They're primarily for lowering cholesterol levels," Maki answered quickly.

Yuta let out a frustrated sigh. "Right, right. And anticoagulants? I still can't wrap my head around those."

You leaned forward. "Anticoagulants inhibit clotting factors in the blood. They're essential in preventing thrombosis and strokes."

Yuta gave a resigned look. "You two sound like walking textbooks. I'm sure I'll fail."

"No, Yuta, you've got this," you reassured him, though he seemed to be brainstorming backup career options already.

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the cafeteria shifted as Gojo and Geto entered. Gojo's eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on your group. His gaze met yours for a brief moment.

Your stomach fluttered. Was it the intensity of his gaze or the fleeting memory of the dozens of painkillers in his car?

Perhaps both.

Geto also turned around. He broke into a warm smile as he saw you. 

Hm, at least he was not angry with you anymore.

"Looks like the big guns are here," Yuta joked under his breath, nodding toward Gojo and Geto. "Do you think they ever get exam jitters?"

"Doubt it," Toge said.

Maki rolled her eyes. "Focus, guys. We need to ace this exam."

Your group returned to your notes. Gojo and Geto picked up their coffee and found a seat not too far from yours, granting you an unobstructed view of Gojo. You tried to concentrate, but part of you remained acutely aware of his presence. 

Every so often, you stole glances at him, watching how he discussed something with Geto. His muscles flexed subtly with each animated gesture he made. There was an undeniable air of confidence that radiated from him, making him stand out effortlessly in the crowd. 

He was dressed in his usual white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the intriguing play of veins along his well-defined forearms. The dark blue slacks he wore were tailored to perfection.

His disheveled white hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it. You could see his jaw flexing as he articulated his points, each movement emphasizing the sharp lines of his face.

The sight was distracting, to say the least.

As you watched them, you couldn't help but think back to what Gojo had said to you in his car-how he had the audacity to accuse you of wanting to have a threesome with them. Heat rose to your cheeks.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Maki's voice pulled you back to reality.

You blinked. "Sorry, just got distracted for a moment."

Yet Gojo's presence lingered in your periphery. You stole another glance at Gojo, only to find him already looking at you. His lips curved into a faint smile.

Suddenly, you noticed that Geto's eyes were on you as well. The moment his gaze met yours, you felt caught like a deer in headlights. You quickly looked away. Geto said something to Gojo. Gojo merely shrugged, his expression unreadable, but the faintest smile played on his lips.

The rest of the time in the cafeteria passed in a blur. 

While you and your friends were engrossed in a last-minute review, Gojo and Geto began gathering their things to leave. They stood up and chatted casually as they strolled towards the exit, which happened to be in your direction.

Yuta checked his watch. "Time to head out for the exam." You all started to pack up. As you rose from the table, a sudden presence brushed against your back, making you turn.

"Oh, sorry about that," Gojo said. But there was a twinkle in his eye that suggested the touch wasn't entirely accidental. Before you could react, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Good luck with the exam. Though, something tells me you won't need it."

Gojo straightened. His gaze held you captive. You watched as he and Geto made their way out, with Geto swatting Gojo on the back of his head as they left.

"You're so fucked," Maki commented dryly, catching you watching them.

─── ·✧· ───

A week had passed since the exam. 

Life at the university had returned to its usual rhythm. You were in class with Toge, Maki and Yuta, the lecturer's voice a steady drone in the background as you all scribbled notes. Midway through the lecture, your phone that lay on your desk lit up with a message.

[3:32 PM] Gojo: Meet me in the lab after class. 

[3:32 PM] Gojo: Btw, you passed your exam. Congrats. Got a little gift for you too.

You stared at the message, puzzled. It was unusual for professors to have exam results ready just a week after. How did Gojo know?

[3:33 PM] You: What gift?

[3:33 PM] Gojo: It's a surprise. Why spoil it now? Come and see.

[3:33 PM] You: What about my friends Okkotsu, Zenin and Inumaki? Did they pass too?

[3:34 PM] Gojo: Can't say. I may have obtained your exam result in an unethical way.

[3:34 PM] You: Oh, too bad. Guess I must skip the lab today then.

[3:34 PM] Gojo: Are you fucking with me?

You didn't reply to that. 

After all, he wasn't the only one capable of playing games. You set your phone down, a slight smile on your lips as you turned your attention back to the lecture.

[3:52 PM] Gojo: They also passed.

[3:52 PM] You: Great. See you in the lab.

You turned to your friends. "We all passed the exam," you announced in a hushed tone.

Maki's eyes widened. "Seriously? How do you know that already?"

"Unethical ways."

Yuta let out a deep sigh. "Shit, that's some great news," he murmured, his usual worry lines smoothing out.

Toge nodded with a satisfied sound.

Suddenly the professor, who had been lecturing about biochemistry, paused and glanced sternly in your direction. "If we could have less chatter and more focus, please."

Your group quickly composed themselves and turned their attention back to the lecture. Yuta shot you a last smile.

As the lecture came to a close, you and your friends gathered your belongings and made your way out of the auditorium. The hallway outside was bustling with students discussing the lecture and making plans for the rest of the day. 

"I can't tell you how relieved I am. I was sure I botched the beta-blocker section," Yuta said as you walked.

You suddenly spotted Gojo casually leaning against a wall across from you, his arms crossed over his chest. His piercing gaze instantly locked onto you as you exited the auditorium. He tapped his fingers on his folded arms.

As your group began to drift towards the exit, you halted in your tracks. "You guys go ahead. I've got something to take care of after class."

"Alright, catch you tomorrow then," Yuta replied, clapping you on the shoulder.

You lingered in the hallway, waiting for the last students to leave. The corridor quieted, leaving you and Gojo alone. His intense gaze never wavered. He pushed himself away from the wall and strolled over to you.

"You've got quite the nerve, first-year," Gojo remarked.

You met his gaze squarely. "I could say the same about you, professor. Perhaps we should be more careful about being seen together outside the lab."

Gojo flashed a mischievous smile. "Concerned about starting rumors?"

"It's your reputation on the line, not mine."

"Ouch," he said, putting a hand over his heart in mock offense. "And here I am, offering to escort you. That's quite gentlemanly, don't you think? Even after you managed to rile me up."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of walking myself."

He leaned closer. "I know, perhaps I just want to spend more time with you." He started to walk towards the lab. "Come, I have something to show you. Something tells me you'll love it."

─── ·✧· ───

Once inside the lab, Gojo led you to a table where a mysterious box lay hidden under a cloth. With a dramatic gesture, he pulled away the cover, revealing what he had teased as a 'gift'.

Your eyes widened slightly at the sight. "A brain?" you said, then turned to Gojo. "You have quite a unique way of pleasing a woman."

Gojo's smile broadened. "It's a human brain, specifically for us to practice on. I figured some hands-on training might be beneficial for the surgery, so I got us a few. It's a first for me too, so I thought, why not be thorough?"

You stepped closer to the table and peered at the brain encased in its protective glass. You grabbed the preserved organ and held it up, mesmerized by the sight.

Gojo watched your reaction. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is." You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away. "Where did you get them?"

"Let's just say I had to pull some strings. Rest assured, they're from deceased donors, ethically sourced, of course."

"I know you've been worried about making another mistake in surgery," he said, his voice softening. "So, I figured the best way to prepare us is with hands-on practice."

You turned to face him. 

"We'll use these brains to meticulously go through each step of the procedure," he continued. "It's the closest we can get to the real experience. Practicing on actual human tissue like this will provide a depth of understanding that no model can match. By the end, you'll be thoroughly prepared for the surgery."

You placed the brain back on the table. "You did this for me?"

"I would do anything for you." Gojo closed the distance between you. He stood unusually close, his presence almost enveloping you. He leaned forward slightly, placing his hands on the table on either side of you, holding you captive between his arms.

Your back hit the edge of the table. You leaned back, trying to regain some distance. "What are you doing?"

He held your gaze, a hint of playfulness returning to his voice. "But just so you know, I have my ways of pleasing a woman. And not just by gifting her a human brain."

You leaned back even more. "Is that so?"

However, the distance was quickly closed by Gojo as he leaned in even closer. His breath warm and close, his lips almost grazing yours. "Absolutely," he murmured. "I'd be more than willing to demonstrate, if you're interested."

You raised an eyebrow, your heart racing. "Forward as always, Gojo."

Suddenly, in one swift motion, he reached out. His hands grasped the back of your thighs. Before you could react, you found yourself falling back onto the table. Your breath hitched. Gojo leaned over you, his blue eyes intense and piercing.

"You have no idea," he murmured, his voice deep and resonant. "If you weren't my student, I'd have already shown you just how forward I can be." His words were laced with an implication that sent a thrill through you. "'Be sure, I am a patient man, but even I have my limits."

His hand traced a path along the back of your thigh, the other firmly planted on the table above your head. Trapped in his gaze, you were acutely aware of every point of contact, the heat emanating from his body, and the undeniable pull you felt towards him.

"Maybe you should consider not seducing your student, then," you countered, your voice faltering slightly, betraying the effect he had on you. Your body seemed to act on its own accord, your legs instinctively drawing closer to him, as he stood between your parted legs.

"You could tell me to stop at any moment, yet you haven't," he said. "Interesting, isn't it? It's almost as if you're as curious as I am about where this might lead."

His face drew nearer, the space between you shrinking with each passing moment. Your breaths mingled. Your hand wandered to his arm, grabbing onto him, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt.

Your body craved his touch, despite the rational part of your mind screaming caution. But in that moment, it was impossible to resist the magnetic pull that drew you closer to him. You found yourself inching closer, your heart pounding in your chest. 

His gaze held you captive, and you felt as though he had the power to steal your very breath with a simple look.

Oh god.

If anyone were to walk into the lab now, there would be no plausible explanation for this compromising position.

His breath was warm on your skin, tantalizingly close to your collarbone. "But don't worry, first-year. I do love a good challenge. Especially one as intriguing as you." 

His body pressed against your open legs. In this position you could clearly feel the stretch in his pants. Your core melted. "There's just something about the way you resist, yet-not quite."

His hand ventured to the inside of your thigh. His fingers traced a path along your skin, edging daringly close. You arched into his touch. His lips caressed your collarbone, his touch light as a feather. The anticipation was nearly unbearable, a delicious torture that held you in its grip. 

"Even though your body betrays you every single time," he said before tightening his grip on your thigh. He pressed closer to you, the unmistakable hardness of his erection grinding against you. 

A moan escaped your lips and you could feel him smile against your skin. He lifts his head just enough to peer into your eyes. "Oh sweetheart, I'm dying to hear you moan my name."

Just as Gojo's fingers came dangerously close to brushing the sensitive area between your legs, he withdrew abruptly, leaving a void where his warmth had been. He straightened, a semblance of control returning to his expression. "Perhaps it's time we should get to work, don't you think?"

Was he for real?

You lay there for a moment, panting heavily. Pulling yourself up to your elbows, you managed a breathless, "What?"

Gojo, now a few steps away, nonchalantly adjusted his pants, something inside of them clearly troubling him. "We have a surgery to prepare for, remember?"

He said that as if he hadn't just nearly fucked you on the lab table.

You sit up completely. "I hate you."

Gojo chuckled. "You're so easy to play with, first-year," he remarked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Consider it payback for making me 'borrow' your friends' exam results from my colleague's laptop."

You watched him for a moment, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. The way he could shift so effortlessly from intense intimacy to professional demeanor was both infuriating and intriguing. 

With a groan, you let yourself fall back onto the desk and stared up at the ceiling. As you lay there, you heard Gojo walk away, his footsteps echoing through the lab. "Leaving already, Gojo? Need a quick break to blow off some steam?"

Gojo returned a moment later with a tray of surgical tools. He shot you a sly grin. "Why? Interested in watching?"

"Keep dreaming."

Gojo laughed. "You're quite amusing, first-year. We both know you'll surrender sooner or later. But don't worry, I can wait."

He began meticulously arranging the surgical tools, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. "Ready to begin?" he asked, glancing over at you.

You nodded.

─── ·✧· ───

In the following weeks, your routine consisted of meeting in the lab every day after class to prepare for the surgery.

The sessions were rigorous. Gojo's dedication to perfection and precision became more apparent with each passing day. He was a taskmaster in the truest sense, his expectations high and his attention to detail almost obsessive.

You thought Geto was strict, but Gojo operated on an entirely different level. His standards were exacting. He accepted nothing less than absolute precision. Every incision, every maneuver you practiced under his watchful eyes had to be flawless.

Maybe he was a maniac.

He sure was a maniac.

It was late.

You were hungry and tired.

However, once more, you and Gojo stood side by side to rehearse the procedure yet again.

"Now, stabilize the area while I insert the implant," Gojo instructed. You reached for the micro-surgical tool on the nearby desk and followed his directions precisely, maintaining a calm and steady breath to steady your hands.

Gojo led the way with inhuman precision. You mirrored his movements flawlessly. "Gently retract the meningeal layer," he guided. "Perfect, now hold it steady."

As the hours ticked away, you repeated the procedure over and over. With each repetition, you drew closer to seamless synchronization, your actions becoming increasingly fluid and intuitive. 

"Stay concentrated, we're almost there."

You slowed your breathing. "Inserting the implant now," Gojo said. Your eyes followed Gojo's hands as they maneuvered the tiny neuroimplant. "Hold steady," he murmured. "Slight adjustment to the left, that's it."

It was then that you noticed the slight trembling of his hands. In the blink of an eye, the tool in his hand slipped ever so slightly, causing a visible tear in the brain tissue.

"Damn it," Gojo muttered. "I'm sorry. Let's reset and try again."

The second attempt began much like the first, perfectly in sync. You both worked in silence. The only sound your synchronized breathing and the steady hum of the overhead lights.

But the second attempt didn't go as planned either. A small but significant misstep by Gojo resulted in further damage to the fragile brain. After the third failed attempt, Gojo took a step back from the table. His hands trembled.

"Fuck," Gojo hissed again, tearing off his gloves. He ran his fingers through his hair.

You set the instruments back on the table. "What's wrong? You good?"

It was unusual. He never made such mistakes. He always had the most steady hands, so why was he struggling with every attempt now?

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need a break," he said, frustration etching lines on his forehead. He walked over to a nearby bench, where a forgotten cup of coffee rested. He picked it up with a shaking hand. You observed him closely. 

"Gojo, your hands..."

"I'm fine."

Oh, he was so clearly lying.

You walked over to him. "Don't tell me shit, what's going-?"

But before the words fully escaped your lips, Gojo's hand cramped. In an instant, the porcelain succumbed, shattering in his clenched fist. Coffee spilled over the bench in a dark, staining flood. A sharp curse escaped him as he released the jagged remains of the cup.

You bridged the distance between you. "God, Gojo," you exclaimed, quickly clasping his injured hand. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing."

"Yeah, keep lying to me," you retorted, locking eyes with him. "Sit down."

"It's merely a scratch."

"Just sit down, Gojo. Let me take a look at your hand."

With a sigh, he sank into the chair, watching you as you gathered the medical supplies.

"Fortunate it's your left hand," you remarked, pulling up a chair to sit beside him. You cradled his hand in your lap. Porcelain shards were buried in his palm and fingers, blood began to pool around the punctures. "Looks like you'll need a few stitches."

"I'm not sure I should trust someone to stitch me up who struggles to even find a vein," he quipped. "You know, this is a surgeon's hand." 

His attempt at humor fell flat. You were not in the mood for jokes. He flinched when you started to remove the porcelain fragments with tweezers.

"Don't worry. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's stitching up wounds," you said quietly.

You meticulously removed each fragment. The room was silent, punctuated only by the occasional clatter of tools. After ensuring no debris remained, you cleansed the wounds. 

Unfolding a suture kit, you glanced at Gojo. "This might sting," you cautioned, beginning to stitch the deeper gashes.

Gojo's jaw clenched. He remained silent, his eyes following your every move. After a while, he spoke, breaking the quiet. "You're pretty good at this. How did you learn to stitch so well?"

Your hands paused briefly, surprised by the question. "I mentioned my mother wasn't the same after my father's death. That's how I learned it."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his gaze shifting away.

You completed the last stitch and bandaged his hand carefully. "There, all done." Standing up, you began to clean the area. Gojo flexed his fingers, testing the mobility.

"Thank you," he said. "It's really good."

Without facing him, you asked, "You won't tell me what's wrong, will you?"

His silence was your answer.

A sigh escaped you. Gojo then stood, breaking the momentary stillness. "I need to grab something from my office. I'll be back soon," he said, his tone somewhat distant.

You nodded and watched as he left the lab. The door clicked shut, its sound echoing faintly in the now empty space. The quiet hum of the lab enveloped you.

Time ticked by, and the lab's clock hands moved steadily forward. The quiet was pervasive, broken only by the occasional sounds of the building settling for the night. You glanced occasionally at the door, expecting Gojo to return, but there was no sign of him.

He did not return to the lab that night.

And he was not in the lab the next day.

─── ·✧· ───

"Can you imagine having surgery with these?" 

Yuta joked, pointing at a set of rusty scalpels. His face scrunched up in mock horror.

Maki laughed. "I'd rather not. Makes me appreciate modern anesthesia."

Toge added a quick quip, "Unbelievable."

You and your friends decided to visit the local museum. Today, it was hosting a special medical exhibit, which naturally piqued your interest. The warm sunlight filtered through the museum's large windows, casting a golden glow over the exhibits.

As you walked through the halls, the exhibit unfolded in a series of medical histories and advances. There were sections dedicated to ancient medical practices, rows of archaic surgical tools that seemed more like medieval torture devices, and interactive displays on modern surgical techniques.

Amidst the array of exhibits, one particular section caught your eye. To the casual visitor, the subject matter might seem unappealing, but you found it absolutely fascinating. 

You excused yourself from your friends and approached the exhibit. It was a quiet corner of the museum, away from the more popular attractions.

You were so engrossed in reading a panel that you hardly noticed the approach of another visitor. It wasn't until you heard a familiar voice nearby. Your heart froze for a moment.

"I knew you'd be drawn to this," Gojo remarked, his presence suddenly beside you. He was observing the same exhibit, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Stalking me again, professor?"

"Purely coincidental, I assure you. I couldn't pass up this exhibition. Turns out, today's the only chance to see it."

You turned to face him. "You've got some nerve, Gojo. You left me alone in the lab, disappeared without a word, and then ignored all my messages. You can't just act like nothing happened."

His face softened. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to hurt you."

"If something's wrong, you need to tell me. This isn't just your project, Gojo. It's still Geto's project too. Your actions will not only affect me, but him as well."

"You're right."

Exhaling sharply, turning your attention back to the exhibit.

After a moment of silence, Gojo spoke again. "What are you doing afterwards?"

You turned slightly. "Hm?"

"Go out with me."

His invitation hung in the air between you, leaving you momentarily speechless. You turned to him, searching his expression for clues. "Go out... as in a date?"

"Call it whatever you want," he said. "I just want to spend time with you."

"This will only lead to trouble, you know that."

Undeterred, he stepped closer. His bandaged hand gently lifted your chin, urging you to meet his gaze. His height forced you to tilt your head back.

"I'm aware of that," he said. "But I don't care. I can't ignore this any longer... whatever this is between us. And I don't think you can either."

"Give me a chance," he implored, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that felt almost tangible. "One evening. That's all I'm asking."

Time seemed to stretch out as you mulled over his request. "One evening?"

"One evening."

"Okay, one evening," you agreed.

A subtle smile played on Gojo's lips. "I'll wait for you outside."

Then he leaned in, as if to steal a kiss. But the sound of approaching footsteps quickly halted him. He withdrew his hand, leaving a trace of warmth where his touch had been.

"Talk about a small world," Yuta exclaimed, his eyes landing on you and Gojo, who was already keeping a professional distance.

Maki approached Gojo with a friendly greeting. "Quite a surprise seeing you here, professor."

Gojo responded with his usual charm. "Ah, the future of medicine, all gathered in one spot. Seems I'm not the only one drawn to this exhibition."

"I hope you're not here to quiz us, Dr. Gojo. We've had our fill of exams for a while," Maki said.

"I wouldn't dream of torturing my students outside of class."

Toge muttered something under his breath, earning a playful nudge from Yuta. "Don't jinx it," Yuta whispered.

The group moved through the exhibition together, with Gojo occasionally offering insightful comments. Eventually, he parted ways with you and your friends. He cast one last glance in your direction before saying goodbye.

As you and your friends continued exploring the museum, Maki nudged you playfully. "It's funny how Dr. Handsome always seems to be around you, isn't it?"

"It's just a strange coincidence."

"Yeah, sure."

You rolled your eyes. 

The rest of the museum visit passed in a light-hearted mood, with occasional teasing from Maki about Gojo. The sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful golden hue over the city streets as you made your way out.

"Oh, wait," you said suddenly, patting your pockets as if searching for something. "I think I left something back in the museum. You guys go ahead; I'll catch up."

Yuta looked concerned. "Do you need someone to go back with you?"

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. I won't be long. Don't miss the train on my account."

After a moment of hesitation, your friends agreed and continued towards the subway station. You waited until they were out of sight, then went back to the museums's entrance.

"Hey, first-year."

Gojo's voice came from behind, startling you slightly. You turned to find him approaching with two cups of coffee in hand, steam rising into the evening air. His face lit up with a smile as he saw you waiting.

He handed you one of the cups. "Thought you might like some coffee. Just regular, though-no Red Bull mixed in, sorry," he said, a playful tone in his voice.

"How disappointing."

"Shall we go for a walk?"

You nodded.

The bustling sounds of the city surrounded you, the sky painted in vibrant oranges and pinks by the setting sun. The streets pulsed with the city's evening energy. Walking alongside Gojo, you sipped the warm coffee.

"Aren't you afraid of someone seeing us?" you asked, glancing around subtly.

"Are you?" 

"It's not like we're making out or anything," he added. "Unless you'd like to?"

"Don't push it, Gojo."

Your gaze fell on his bandaged hand. "How's your hand, by the way?" 

He switched the cup to his other hand and flexed the injured one. "It's healing well. Thankfully, a really skilled surgeon took care of it."

You rolled your eyes.

"Are you nervous about the upcoming surgery?" he asked.

"I am," you confessed. "You never seem to get nervous."

"Well, that's because I'm an exceptional neurosurgeon."

"Ah, sure, I forgot. You're the miracle doctor."

"Not really," he said. "I mean, I've always had a knack for it, but university wasn't always easy. It took a lot of effort to get to where I am now. Just like you. We're not that different, you know."

You observed him for a moment before asking, "Why neurosurgery?"

"Could ask you the same. What made you choose neurosurgery?"

"Why would I choose any another field when neurology exists?"

He chuckled. "Thought so."

"Plus, the patients are usually sedated, so that's a plus for surgery," you added.

"Ah, the mark of a true neurosurgeon's ego."

The evening had deepened, and a chill began to settle in the air as you and Gojo walked through the city streets. The vibrant energy of the day had given way to the serene calmness of the night. 

Streetlights cast a soft glow on the pavement, and the occasional sound of distant laughter and the hum of a passing car filled the air.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as a cool breeze seeped through your clothes. Without a moment's hesitation, Gojo halted and began to take off his jacket. "Here, wear this," he offered, draping it over your shoulders.

"But won't you be cold?" you asked, concerned as he would be left in just his shirt.

He simply smiled. "I'll be fine."

You slipped into his jacket, the sleeves oddly long on your arms. It was warm and carried the faint scent of his cologne. 

Gojo seemed unfazed by the drop in temperature as he watched you. He raised his hand to your face and ran his thumb gently over your cheek. His gaze fell to your lips. The bustling city street seemed to fade into the background as Gojo's proximity enveloped you. 

People passed by, a sea of faces lost in their own worlds, their voices fading to a distant hum as you and Gojo stood in your own intimate world. His thumb brushed over your lips, parting them slightly.

"Tell me, do you ever wonder what it would be like if we gave in?"

"For someone who says he's patient, you're really pushing it, Gojo."

Gojo's eyes darkened. His gaze locked onto your lips as he leaned in just a fraction closer. The world around you blurred, the bustling street becoming nothing more than a distant backdrop.

Gojo's lips curled into a seductive smile. "Maybe you're just too irresistible."

"Or maybe you only want me because you can't have me."

"Whatever the reason, first-year. The important thing is that we both want it."

The chemistry between you two was undeniable, the tension in the air thickening with each passing moment. You leaned in closer, your lips tantalizingly close to his. "And what do you want, professor?" you whispered.

You both knew the risks, the lines that shouldn't be crossed, but in that charged moment, it was so damn hard to resist. Every inch of your body craved for his touch.

His hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you closer, eliminating any space between you. "I want to taste those lips of yours, to feel your body pressed against mine."

You breathed in each other's air as his parted lips hovered dangerously close to yours, yet not making contact. "I want to hear you scream my name," he whispered as he pulled you even closer with a sudden tug. His fingers dug into your back in a way that was almost painful. "Hear your soft pleas all night long."

Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires. 

Without a second thought, Gojo turned you around, using his own body to shield you from the street. Not far from where you stood, a horrific car crash had unfolded. One of the vehicles went airborne before crashing onto its roof with a sickening thud.

For a moment, you both stood frozen, processing what had just happened. People began screaming and gathering around the site of the accident. Without having to exchange a word, you and Gojo sprang into action, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Gojo sprinted towards the mangled car, while you rushed to help the other vehicle.

As you reached the car, you saw the driver still inside, his head resting against the inflated airbag. You pushed open the driver's door. The man lifted his head slightly, blood dripping from a gash on his temple.

"We're here to help," you said. "Can you tell me your name?"

The driver mumbled something incoherent, his eyes struggling to focus. You carefully assessed the driver's condition, checking for any obvious signs of injury. His airway appeared to be clear, and he was breathing, albeit shallowly.

You continued to talk to the driver, trying to keep him conscious and engaged. "You've been in an accident, but we're going to get you out of here safely. Can you tell me if you're experiencing any pain?"

He didn't respond. You gently touched his head to tilt it towards you. You probed around the wound on his temple, checking for any underlying skull fractures or deformities.

"Do you know where you are? Can you tell me what happened?" you asked, trying to gauge his cognitive function. The man tried to speak, but nothing intelligible came out. His speech was slurred, and he seemed to be losing focus.

Then you heard a strained sound that resembled Gojo's voice. Looking up, you saw Gojo straining against the wreckage of the other car, trying to free the trapped driver. A nearby bystander was helping him.

You turned back to the driver in front of you. "Please stay still and try not to move until help arrives, okay?"

You went to a nearby bystander and instructed him to go to the driver and keep him still and engaged in speech. You hurried over to Gojo. He carefully pulled the woman out of the mangled car and laid her gently on the asphalt. Gojo hovered over her, checking her vitals.

"She's barely breathing." He leaned in to listen to her labored breaths. "She needs an emergency tracheotomy, now."

"What?" 

Your heart raced at the thought. There's no way you could do that here.

"Your jacket pocket, the right one," he instructed urgently.

Still wearing his jacket, you quickly reached into the right pocket. Your fingers found something, and you retrieved it. It was a sealed straw from the coffee Gojo had bought earlier. You handed it to him without a word.

"Now, the inner pocket on your left."

Reaching into the inner pocket, your fingers found a small, elongated case. "What's that?" you asked as you handed it over to him.

He opened the case, revealing a scalpel.

"You keep a scalpel with you all the time?" you exclaimed.

He briefly looked up at you with a sly smile. "Quite handy right now, don't you think?"

Without wasting a second, Gojo made a small incision in the driver's throat, skillfully inserting the straw to create an airway. It was unorthodox, to say the least.

Just then, you noticed a trickle of blood seeping through the sleeve of his shirt. "You're bleeding," you said. He must have injured himself on the jagged metal while freeing the woman from the crashed car.

Gojo glanced down at his arm. "It's nothing."

The wail of the sirens grew louder as the paramedics arrived, quickly taking control of the situation. Gojo immediately began briefing them on the condition of the injured.

"I'll go with them to the hospital," he said, preparing to accompany the paramedics. But as he turned to leave, you grabbed his shirt.

"I'm coming with you."

"You should go home, get some rest."

"You wanted to spend time with me, so spend time with me, Gojo." You looked at him. "You wanted a whole evening, and it's not midnight yet."

He pondered for a moment. "Then come."

Climbing into the ambulance, you found yourself in the midst of medical equipment and the paramedics as they worked to stabilize the driver during the transport. The confined space was filled with the sound of medical equipment and hushed, urgent conversations. 

Gojo relayed the details of the incident to the team. It seemed as if he knew them, as he addressed them by name.

As you glanced at Gojo's arm, the bloodstain on his shirt was growing. You turned to one of the paramedics. "I need antiseptic and gauze."

The paramedic seemed a little taken aback by your firm tone.

"Now," you clarified.

"Uh, right here," he replied, pointing toward a nearby drawer.

"What are you doing?" Gojo asked as you moved around the ambulance like you owned the place.

You sat down beside him and seized his arm, rolling up his sleeve. His firm skin felt hot under your touch as you cleaned his wound. "You really are my personal doctor, aren't you?" he remarked, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"You should just take better care of yourself."

His eyes locked onto yours. "I guess I do need someone to watch out for me. Also, with your perfect stitching skills, I'd never let anyone else touch me."

You huffed. 

"Quite a first date, huh?" you quipped as you continued tending to his arm.

"So it is a date?"

"In your dreams, Gojo."

Then the ambulance arrived at the hospital.

Upon arriving at the hospital, the atmosphere was a flurry of activity as medical professionals worked diligently to care for the injured. Gojo quickly turned to you.

"Wait for me in my office," he instructed, handing you a set of keys. "I need to assist here and finish the necessary paperwork. I shouldn't be long."

You nodded. Before you could react, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Then, without another word, he left. Your heart raced. 

Clutching the keys, you made your way through the corridors of the hospital, searching for Gojo's office number, which was written on the keys. The adrenaline that had fueled your body slowly faded, leaving a trail of exhaustion in its wake.

Entering his office, you were greeted by bookshelves lining one wall, filled with medical texts and various journals, while a desk cluttered with papers and a laptop occupied another corner. The room looked quite different from his office at the university. Still, it had a warmth to it. 

It even had his scent.

You looked down at your clothes, stained and dishevelled from the night's chaos. You rummaged through Gojo's belongings and found what looked like a gym bag. Inside, you found a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants. They were undoubtedly his, large and probably loose on you, but they were clean.

He wouldn't mind, would he?

You looked down on yourself again. 

Yeah, whatever-even if he mind.

It felt strange to change into his clothes, but at the same time oddly comforting as you noticed his faint scent on them. You sank into the couch in his office, the events of the night replaying in your mind. The room was quiet, except for the distant sounds of the hospital at night.

You gazed up at the ceiling, then turned on your side and closed your eyes. Exhaustion gradually overcame you until sleep began to claim you.

Sometime later, the sound of the door gently opening stirred you from your sleep. Through half-closed eyes, you saw Gojo enter the room. He paused for a moment at the sight of you sleeping on his couch, a soft expression crossing his face.

"Gojo?" you murmured, your voice still heavy with sleep.

He moved quietly toward you, dropping to his knees before the couch. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," you replied, still wrapped in the warmth of his clothes. "How are the drivers?"

"They're stable. Don't worry."

Then he stood up again and moved to lie down on the couch behind you. You shifted slightly to give him more space, feeling his presence close to you. "How's your arm?" you asked him. Gojo settled down on the couch behind you, a soft sigh escaping him as he found a comfortable position.

"My arm's fine," he reassured you with a soft smile. "Thanks to you."

You turned onto your back, your eyes meeting his as he propped himself up on one elbow. His face hovered close to yours. "They look good on you." His hand reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "My clothes," he added.

"Sorry, I just wanted to get out of my dirty clothes."

"I don't mind."

A smile played at the corners of his lips. "You should've seen yourself out there," he said. "You really bossed those paramedics around. I'm sure they'll remember you."

"Well, if you keep hurting yourself, guess I'll have to keep patching you up."

Gojo's laughter filled the room, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled at you. "You can stitch me up anytime, doc."

"You better not make a habit out of this."

He chuckled softly, his thumb gently stroking your shoulder. "I'll try my best."

Lying there, side by side, you both gazed into each other's eyes. The room was filled with the soft light of the moon outside, casting gentle shadows across his face. Silence settled between you, the only sounds in the room were the soft breaths you both took.

"We do make a good team, don't we?" Gojo's voice broke the silence. "And I'm not just talking about in the OR."

"Are you implying something?"

"Nah, never."

As you let out a yawn, Gojo adjusted his position, lying down beside you. "Come here," he said softly. His arm encircled your shoulder, drawing you close to him. 

Instinctively, you nestled into him, your head finding a comfortable spot against his chest. His heartbeat, strong and steady beneath your ear.

The warmth of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath, brought a sense of safety and calm. You could feel the tension of the day slowly ebbing away. His fingers trailed lightly across your back, drawing absent patterns.

"You know, this is quite close for a student and a professor," you muffled against his chest.

"Is it? Should I go?"

Your fingers gripped his shirt, holding him in place. "No," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't go."

A smile played on his lips. "I'm not leaving you," he whispered. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Then, he cuddled closer, the distance between you seeming to disappear.

Gradually, sleep began to claim you both. You drifted off, entwined in each other's arm. The office was quiet, save for the soft sound of your synchronized breathing and the faint, distant echoes of the hospital's nocturnal life.

Tomorrow, maybe, you would care about the consequences.

But not today. Not in his arms.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: hope you like slightly longer chapters, i didn't know when to stop with this one really. anyway, thank you for reading and feel free to leave your thought, i love to read them !! if you want to be added to the taglist, pls comment on the series masterlist ♡

🏷️  @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved

[bambihrt]

Hi ! Would you be up for writing some angst to fluff with Adam ? My poor angel deserves some love !

Yes of course! Now this is some very light angst but hopefully you enjoy it, Adam is such an interesting character I hope I’m able to do him some justice haha

- 🤍

Dating the first man to ever exist is no easy task. He’s a popular guy and is usually the center of attention in any situation. However you couldn’t help but feel jealous over those who get to spend a lot of time with him. In particular the angel Lute. Anytime you see your boyfriend when not at each other’s homes or on a date, she’s always with him. The way she looks at him just doesn’t sit right. You can’t help but think there could be something more going on.

It’s not that you don’t trust Adam but it’s only natural to have doubts when your boyfriend is often around another woman. Now envy is a sin, you know that so you’d never voice this opinion out loud. But as time goes on, these feelings start to simmer until they start affecting your relationship.

Adam could tell something was up. He had no clue though what this could be. It’s unlike you to be so quiet when he’s talking to you. He was telling you this story on how Lute and him were chasing down this sinner on the last extermination day.

“You should have seen the look on his face babe! Lute had cornered him into this alleyway and then right when he thought he’d gotten away… BAM I jump out from behind and spear him straight through the fuckin’ middle! And then Lute-“

“Wow sounds like you and Lute are the perfect team.” This comment of yours sounded less enthusiastic and more snarky than he’d hoped for.

“Well yeah I guess but that’s not really the point (y/n), I was trying to tell you how badass I was,” Adam was giving you the perfect opportunity to ignore the tone of what you last said and move on but you couldn’t get out of this headspace.

“Yeah Lute sounds pretty badass too from the countless stories you tell me.”

“Woah babe what’s this about?”

“Just seems to me like Lute’s always on your mind Adam from how you’re always with her and talking about her. Maybe you should date her instead.”

Adam huffed and got up, “yeah yknow what? Fuck this, go take this attitude to someone who could give a shit, I’m just trying to have a nice time and you’re sounding like an insecure bitch right now.”

After that comment Adam stormed out of your room and slammed the door leaving you alone to wallow in self pity. For the next week you didn’t hear from your boyfriend or even see him out. You couldn’t help but think you’ve ruined your relationship with the argument you had. Until you wake up to your doorbell ringing.

Opening your door to Adam standing in front, scratching the back of his neck.

“Look (y/n) I thought you were being completely irrational but then imagined our roles were reversed and I’d be pissed if you were hanging around some guy all day.”

“So what are you trying to say?”

“That I’m sorry. Even though I’ve had two wives, I’m not the best at relationships so next time something’s up just talk to me about it,” after he finished saying this, you stood onto your tippy toes and pulled the mask off your boyfriend’s worried face.

“I’m sorry too Adam, I shouldn’t have taken my worries out on you and just communicated from the start, that wasn’t fair of me,” you gave him a soft smile of which he returned with a hug and pulled you into his arms, making his way to the couch where you two snuggled under a blanket and just held each other while watching your favorite movie.

As you were starting to drift off you thought you’d heard your boyfriend mumble, “I love you (y/n), I’m going to marry you some day so please don’t think I have eyes for anyone else but you.” But who knows maybe you were really sleepy and imagined it. However the twinkle in Adam’s eyes when he watched you close your own seemed to hint at it being true.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hello! I've been lurking around for a while and I really enjoy how you write Scaramouche/Wanderer! If it's not much to request, how do you think the Wanderer would comfort fem! Reader who's quite emotionally sensitive and gets hurt by his rude/sarcastic manner of speech? I hate that sometimes, I don't feel like I deserve to self-ship with this character because I'm like: goddamn, Scara, it literally wouldn't cost you your life to be a little compassionate and humble🥹🥹

Wanderer x fem!reader. Comfort fluffy fluff fluff.

Trust me, I feel you. I really do🥺

Wanderer had no filter. Not with anyone, or with you. He knew he really should with you. Usually, you would know exactly what he meant, you were that patient with him.

But sometimes, it got to be too much. The insensitive comment from him this time being, "What use do I for have hobbies, much less hearing about yours."

At first, Wanderer didn't know what to do. He would freeze in place, his eyes a little wide. The second he saw tears well into your eyes, there was look in his that was rarely there: fear.

Making you cry was on his list of things he should never ever do.

"That was such a mean thing to say, Scara," You brushed some tears away that fell from your eyes, "you don't have to rub it in that I am a boring person."

...Shit.

When you turned away from him so that he wouldn't see you cry, Wanderer didn't stop you right away. He knew you didn't want him to see you cry and he didn't want to see it either. After a few moments, which he spent internally kicking himself, he put a hand on your shoulder before wrapping his arms around you.

He pulled you back against his chest. "I'm a jerk, I know," He murmured into your hair.

"You are. You really are," You leaned back into him, making Wanderer visibly relax. You didn't sound mad, nor did it sound like you were crying all that much anymore.

In other words, he knew he was on the right track.

Wanderer was sarcastic, egoistical, greedy, and self centered. But most importantly, he was brutally honest. It was because of this attitude that you could tell he was sincere when he said things like this, especially when followed up with what he said next.

"...I'm sorry," It was said barely above a whisper, but you'd heard it.

You let out a soft squeak of surprise when he scooped you up bridal style in his arms. "Let's go to bed now, I've woren you out enough for one day," He set you down on the bed, pulled the blankets over both you, and held you close to his chest.

His fingers stroked soothingly through your hair. You sighed contently, curling into him as you settled into his arms. Despite the fact that you'd forgiven him, you kind of wanted to hear him say how much of a jerk he was again.

He needed to do that sometimes.

After making sure you fell asleep first, Wanderer decided to sleep as well. Sleep was a luxury that he could chose to indulge in if he wanted. This act also showed how much he loved and trusted you.

[astrumark]

── YOU GOT ME SLIPPIN', ACTIN' LAZY ★.

PAIRING: aemond targaryen x female reader.

SUMMARY: you see aemond with his hair up for the first time, and it is distracting.

WARNINGS: fluff, curse words, suggestive themes.

WC: 1.4K

You believe you are having a very vivid dream, that you are still wrapped in silky sheets and foolishly thinking you already started the day. This could mean you were late to your daily practices with the one-eyed prince, and that could simply not do. He would be beyond displeased. But the sight in front of you could have easily been the fruit of your imagination. 

When you moved to the Red Keep after your betrothal with Prince Aemond for proper courting, you were astonished by his fervent desire for you to begin to train with the sword and to learn self-defense. Personally. 

"I cannot have my future wife being defenseless, can I?" He said. "As much as I love protecting you, my darling, it's beyond my power to guarantee I will always be around." 

You cherished it. Your first encounters as betrotheds, like is commonly done, to walk around the gardens or drink tea during the afternoon was filled with awkward silence and useless small talk, but not the training. 

It was a lot more smooth since there was a purpose to your meeting. You moved your bodies around and got too occupied to talk beyond the necessary, and somehow, it seemed to improve your relationship more than any other activity you have tried before. It's a fun way to bond before the wedding and you felt yourself getting closer to the prince each day. The air between you rapidly shifted for one of mutual respect and slight teasing.

And it was rewarding as well, to test and improve your body and abilities. The soreness of your muscles became pleasant, and you have grown to feel more motivated and stronger, looking forward to it each dawn. 

Your only complaint is that it was too early, having to be awake even before the sun was entirely up. To look at your window and see a gray sky was simply distasteful. Aemond claimed it was necessary to avoid undesirable attention and comments. Usually, it was only the two of you and very few passing servants.

And this is how you would always find yourself in the chilly training yard first thing after you'd awake, a mist often covering the spot in the early hour.

The same mist that makes you doubt your eyes, but when the tall man stops just a few inches away from you, there is no mistaking it. Aemond has his hair up in a ponytail. 

And he looks fabulous. You are unable to avert your eyes, never have seen him with any other hairstyle besides the half-up one. His angled face full on display makes your stomach tingle with excitement.

You could almost visualize him in an extravagant armor competing in tourneys if only he liked it. It made him look like a warrior, but you also noticed the intimacy of it. You could see him with his hair in such a style in your private chambers during the morning as well, chest exposed and thin sheets wrapped around his waist after a passionate night. Warmth flooded your body, and suddenly, all your sleepiness disappeared. 

"Good morrow, my lady," He says quietly. "Slept well?"

"Yes, my Prince, thank you. What about you?" You bring your attention back to the table full of throwing knives in front of you. 

"As usual." He hums. "Would you like to try these first?" 

"Yes, please." 

"Choose one or two and come." He orders, already placing himself near the target.

You watch him from afar for a minute, completely amused, you don't think you have ever considered him as handsome as right now, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest any minute.

Aemond sets himself behind you as you position yourself as he taught you before, holding the other knife for you. You are grateful for his mercy since it was much easier to resist the urge to stare at him when he was out of your sight.

You aim the knife at the wooden target and it flies through the air, landing close to the center, but it trembles terribly and falls to the ground. 

"It didn't stick because you're standing too close," Aemond explains. "When it spins, if the blade is angled down when it falls, it indicates you need to step back. Half of getting the knife to hit the target is about where you are standing."

You listen attentively and try a new stance. This time, the knife lands on the right of the middle and sticks. You grin.

"Good, now let's try something else."

Your face falls slightly. "Already?"

"You seem to handle the knives nicely, although you still need practice. But you are awful at hand-to-hand combat, and so it must be our priority." 

"You flatter me." 

"Come and fight me, my lady." Aemond teases going to the middle of the yard, bouncing on his feet.

"You won't be as thrilled for it once we're wed."

He rolls his eye, and you mirror his stance. But it's distracting, the way his ponytail swings with each of his jumps, almost hypnotizing. 

The sudden punch in your jaw makes you stumble backward as you wince and rub your cheek.

"What was that?" Aemond's voice is thick and intimidating as his slender fingers tap lightly at your cheek as if to wake you up. "Are you still asleep?" 

"No." 

"Then pay attention, you didn't even try to block it." His voice lowers. "Did I hurt you?" 

You shake your head. He never does, his blows are weak, but warning. You've hurt yourself more seriously falling to the ground or striking him than from receiving any of his punches. He's awfully careful.

You go back to your positions, and though you do not stand still as before, you know you are being slow. When Aemond spins, aiming to elbow you, the ends of his hair brush your face, and the smell of lemon verbena soap invades your nostrils, once more distracting you. Unfortunately, you lose the timing to move away and try to protect yourself from his strike in the clumsiest way, flinching as you do so. Not necessarily effective, and most definitely not what you have been learning for weeks.

Aemond says your name exasperatedly, sending you a bewildered glance. "We've been past this." 

"I know." 

"This has not been an issue for you recently."

"I know." You repeat with a grunt.

"What is happening?" He asks.

"Nothing is happening, my Prince." 

"You are distracted," He affirms. "Leave these thoughts behind, focus only on the movements of your body. You will notice that with our practices your body almost knows what to do on its own if you permit it."

You try to follow his advice, and it works for a while. Your footwork becomes meticulous, avoiding Aemond's offenses gracefully, your arms solidly shielding your face and chest. 

With the effort, beads of sweat start to cover Aemond's forehead and nose. And your eyes are drawn to his hairline, especially to the wavy little hairs sticking to his skin. Adorable.

You realize you have lost balance a second too late, the twat successfully tackling you to the ground. Your back hits the dirt floor with a thud, and you lose your breath for a second. He hovers over you, pinning both your arms with his hands. A displeased noise leaves his mouth.

Another perk of training is the proximity. In no other context, other than fighting would be acceptable for betrotheds to stand so close, to find themselves pressed like this. The touches always held more importance than they should, a taste for what's yet to come.

"Foolish mistake." He releases your arms. "What is it? What's bothering you?"

You don't answer, and your attention drifts to his hair once again, the ponytail is falling to the side and very close to your face. You cannot control the urge to touch it anymore and your hand moves, the strands are softer than you previously thought, but it's also thin. You twirl it around your fingers as concentrated as a babe with their new toy.

Realization crosses Aemond's eye, and he chuckles wryly, pressing his body even closer to yours, making you feel all the outlines of his body. You whimper. Cunt. 

"Is it the hairstyle?" He asks teasingly. 

You wet your lips, throat closing up. He holds your chin, making you look directly at his violet iris. "Do you like it?"

You nod. "A great amount."

He grins wickedly, and he leans his face dangerously close, your noses brushing. "Then I will make sure to wear it around you more often, wife."