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wilcze-kudly · 12 days

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I do find it annoying how a lot of Zutara fans tweak the character's stories, personalities and even the timelines to suit their own needs.

Once again, there's nothing wrong with fanon and headcanons, however if looking through the lense of canon, you're objectively wrong.

I ended up stumbling on a post from a Zutara shipper. (At this point I'm regretfully considering not following the tags for Zuko or Katara because I get way too much Zutara content lol) I'm not replying directly to her because I don't want this to turn into an argument, and I know she doesn't take criticism very well.

Ok, So let's break this down.

The character who was first out of the group to trust Zuko?

I'm quite sure this is referring to the scene in Ba Sing Se's caves. And yes, that is a very important scene. I think it's a very important scene preceeding Zuko's 'relapse'. It shows how he's matured during his time in Ba Sing Se and therefore it serves to add to our dismay when he joins Azula. I adore the fact that Zuko's journey to redemption is not linear, it certainly adds a lot to the character and shows us how his trauma affected him.

It's also a horrific moment for Katara. To have her worldview on Zuko and firebenders as a whole challenged, and then for it to go blowing up in her face. It rips open old wounds of her childhood. It refreshes her resentment of Zuko and the Fire Nation as a whole. It parallels the death of her mother when Aang dies due to Azula's lighting and she is unable to do anything about it. It places her back in that spot of helplessness. Even though she's grown up, even though she's a master waterbender, she still comes a hair's breadth to losing one of the most important people in her life.

No wonder she hated Zuko so much after this.

It's an important moment for both characters, but I wouldn't say it is that in a romantic sense. It's a sweet, hopeful moment that then turns absolutely horrific and visceral for both parties.

I could argue that there are other characters who could be given the title of 'first to trust Zuko'. Funnily, Appa being one of them lol.

But other characters trusting Zuko dovetails nicely into the next point.

The character who emotionally connects to Zuko?

Well, technically, I'd argue that most members of the Gaang connect emotionally on one level or another with him?

But I'd argue that Aang is the person Zuko connected with the most. Aang is Zuko's parallel. Aang is the first person to reach out to Zuko. Aang is the person who showed mercy to Zuko, multiple times. Aang is the person who valued Zuko's life, the life of someone whose whole life goal is to capture him.

This was also an incredibly important moment to Zuko. This is the thing he brings up when trying to convince the Gaang to let him join.

Zuko: Why aren't you saying anything? You once said you thought we could be friends. You know I have good in me.

The character Zuko feels safest letting his guard down around?

It's Mai. Love her or hate her, her relationship with Zuko is incredibly important to him. Maiko isn't my favourite Zuko ship, in full honesty. But even platonically, Mai and Zuko are one another's reprieve from their respective shitty lives.

People often talk about Katara touching Zuko's scar while discussing healing his scar, however one could argue that she did so as a medical examination. Mai touching Zuko's scar is a casual thing, neither of them really make a big deal of it and that's the beauty of it.

I'm mainly talking out of my own personal experience, as someone with a huge amount of burn scars, but there is a world of difference between someone inspecting my scars like Katara did and simply accepting them as a part of me, like Mai does for Zuko.

With Mai, Zuko isn't the scarred banished prince, Ozai's son or Azula's brother. He's just Zuko. And they speak freely with one another, arguing like real people do. Often, being comfortable having arguments is actually a sign of being comfortable with one another.

The character who helps Zuko heal from his trauma?

Once again, this is a bit of a flawed question. By the end of the show, Zuko isn't even fully healed, in my opinion. He has made leaps and bounds on the road to recovery, but when he will truly heal if ever is yet to be seen.

Zuko's journey to recovery includes plenty of people. This includes Iroh, Aang, Song and Jin. People who show him the error of his coping mechanism. Who challenge his worldview, who coax him out of the his shell of pain and anger.

The character known for showing most compassion to others?

Yes, Katara's compassion is a huge part of her character. Her need to help and protect those who cannot do that for themselves cannot be understated.

But Aang's compassion for others and all beings is just as great, if not greater than Katara's. Compassion and nonviolence are huge parts of his culture and his own philosophy.

Aang: Wait, we can't just leave him here. Sokka: Sure we can. Let's go. Aang :No, if we leave him he'll die. Aang airbends himself off Appa and retrieves Zuko, bringing him to Appa. Sokka: [Sarcastically.] Yeah, this makes a lot of sense. Let's bring the guy who's constantly trying to kill us.

Friendly reminder that Aang could've absolutely wrecked Ozai, but held back because his own moral compass was so powerful. Hell, he was friendly and nice to Azula, the woman who literally killed him.

This is why Aang and Katara work so well together. They're both incredibly compassionate people who will immediately jump in to help others in need. Like they did during the Painted Lady, destroying the factiry together.

The character who primarily bears the burden of having to step up into a parental role?

I think "parental role" is an incredibly vague term. There's a lot of things that go into a "parental role". Katara plays a stereotypically "maternal" role, while someone who plays a "paternal" one would probably be Sokka.

Katara deals with very "homemaking" tasks like sewing and cooking, etc. And Sokka often takes on the role of leader, hunter, gatherer and also protector, despite being a nonbender.

This coincides nicely with their core childhood traumas. The loss of Katara's mother impacted her greatly, leading her to have to step up into a motherly role. While Sokka was clearly heavily traumatised by his father departing and the crushing responsibility of having to care for his entire village.

Sexism also probably played a part in this dichotomy.

The character who represses their emotions to be strong for others?

I'd argue that this could apply to all the members of the Gaang in some capacity.

Aang's pain is something most of us will never experience and cannot hope to understand. The complete horrific destruction of his culture and home followed him through the entire show. He was entitled to his grief and rage, yet he supressed it. We see during Appa's kidnapping, how easy it would be for Aang to rage, to let himself be destructive. And yet, he wakes up every day and chooses to smile and goof off, because his friends need someone to remind them how to be children.

Sokka puts on a very impressive bravado, despite having a lot of insecurities. However, as the oldest member of the Gaang (pre Zuko) he puts on a facade of the confident and unbothered older brother. Even if he's the butt of almost every joke, he still keeps that demeanour up, letting it slip only a few times.

I'd actually argue that Toph is the person whom this label fits best. While we know Toph as witty, callous and strong, we have to remember that she kept up the facade of her parents' good, helpless little blind girl for no reason other than her mother and father's comfort. She actually hides a lot of her hurt, covering it up with a prickly exterior.

I want to do longer think pieces about Toph and Katara so apologies if this isn't complete.

I'm actually baffled by the idea of Katara repressing her emotions. She's actually quite straightforward and open about her feelings. She yells and feels a lot of emotions and lets them be heard. She gets angry and sad. She's actually kinda bitchy sometimes and that's honestly why I love her so much.

The whole inciting incident of the show was her getting so pissed off she somehow pulls a giant iceberg from the bottom of the sea.

She is anything but repressed.

She is angry.

She's angry at the fire nation, at Sokka, at her father, at men, and with good right to be so.

This is what makes her an amazing character and one who broke the mould of a lot of female characters at the time. Her anger and unrestrained emotions rang true with a lot of watchers at the time. I'm not sure why this is being taken away from her rather than celebrated.

I reiterate the point I made at the beginning of this post: there is nothing wrong with headcanons and fanon interpretations for one's enjoyment. I do find it a bit odd when it changes a character too much (because then, why not just create an oc?) but it's all in good fun. However, you shouldn't push that onto other people and how they perceive canon and you certainly shouldn't use it to take away from other characters. It's a very unfair way of entering discourse.

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serverusslaype · 7 months

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Special

just a random short angsty, sort of fluffy one-shot, Severus Snape x professor!reader

i just wrote this right now because im in an angsty sort of mood, and i wanted to post something. i miss you guys, and i am now currently writing part 14 to shameless!! woo!! that break did my brain well. i feel refreshed hehe. <3 thank you for giving me some tips on how to get rid of that godforsaken writer's block, good lord. i hated it. but i'm free now, until next time ;)

this is a drabble/one-shot so it's sort of vague-ish, so yeah, if there's any mistakes or anything i'm sorry. ;(

(i also didn't put the taglist since it isn't part of the shameless fic! just in case you wondered!)

warnings: mentions of cheating

"If it makes you stop crying," Snape began hesitantly as he stared at your tear-stained face, frowning with a scrunched nose of what seemed like disgust. "We can go back to my office, and I'll make you some tea." He said, shoulders rising and falling slowly as he sighed. Watching you be so sad and cry wasn't something Snape was fond of, and it was effecting him - more than he wanted to admit. He just hoped you'd accept his request of making you some tea, then perhaps he could figure out what was making you so upset, and punish the culprits. Snape had always had a little soft-spot for you ever since you'd joined Hogwarts as a professor a year or so ago. Usually he didn't feel such a way towards younger, new professors, however, your kind and sweet aura had him unexpectedly mesmerised the moment you'd introduced yourself to him. The Potions Master wasn't exactly sure why he felt this way towards you so soon, but he knew it couldn't be good - the last time he felt something like this was back when he was a child.

You looked up, still sobbing quietly, managing to slip a confused frown upon your face. "Tea?" You repeated quietly with a sniffle, pausing for a moment to ponder on Snape's offer. "...Tea would be nice."

You hadn't expected to bump into your usually gloomy, rude colleague whilst having what you thought was going to be a private breakdown after learning that your partner had cheated on you with your best friend. Almost two years down the drain, just like that. Snape had accidentally walked in on you hunched over your desk, crying hopelessly. He was about to walk away when you'd heard a deep sigh, startling you. And here you were. Being offered tea by him.

"Let's go then." Snape said with a flat tone, looking away from your sad eyes, unable to withstand the pain that was gathering in his chest.

You were at least two or three cups of tea down when you'd finally explained everything to Snape. From the start of your relationship to the unexpected demise. It dug up old, painful memories, and you were crying again.

"What's wrong with me?" You sobbed, taking another sip of the tea that Snape had made you; hot tears soaking your cheeks and dripping into the cup. Another deep, frustrated sigh slipped from Snape again as he watched you from his desk with a sad frown upon his pale features. "I don't get it," you sniffled, gripping the handle of the tea cup with white knuckles, "did I do something wrong?"

No, you couldn't do anything wrong, Snape wanted to say. He wanted to tell you how wrong you were, and how perfectly good you truly were. But he knew you wouldn't listen, and so he kept quiet, only muttering in disagreement.

"I doubt that, Y/N." Snape mumbled, though you didn't give him much time to say anything else before you stumbled into a self-deprecating rant.

"Maybe I wasn't worth it, I mean, it's not like I'm anything... special," you laughed dryly, avoiding Snape's cold eyes, "maybe I'm just the girl that everyone dates before they find their true love. I'm the girl that they use to find the one, I don't have any good qualities, I'm a pushover, and-"

Snape inhaled sharply, "Stop it, Y/N!" He bellowed, slamming a hand down on the desk that the two of you were sat at. Instantly, you went silent, your mouth hanging open in shock as your heartbeat suddenly sped into an incredibly fast pace. You glanced up at Snape with wet and wide eyes, startled by his unusual outburst.

"Severus-"

"No, Y/N," he held up a hand, silencing you, "you're wrong about yourself. You are special." Snape sighed, moving his hand to massage his temples. You couldn't believe what was coming out of this man's mouth. "You're more than enough. Your ex was clearly a fool to do such a thing to you. In fact, I can't fathom why they would choose your friend over you." Snape said with a stern tone, clearly distressed. Your mouth still hung open as you stared at him, flabbergasted. "You're kind, sweet, considerate, and your heart is twice the size than it should be."

"I..." You uttered quietly, staring at Snape, evidently speechless. He shut his eyes momentarily, suddenly realising what he'd just said. Yet another deep sigh slipped from his heaving chest, rendering you silent.

"You..." Snape stumbled, avoiding your eyes. There was no way he could look at you right now. He'd just opened the floodgates on what he truly thought of you. He probably looks like a right blithering idiot.

The room went quiet, and the two of you sat there in what felt like a somewhat-comfortable silence, taking the moment to acknowledge what had just happened.

You stared at the man opposite you, a sudden and unusual warmth blooming in your chest. For the first time since you'd met him, you took the opportunity to truly look at him. Snape's black eyes glittered in the low, soft amber light from his candles as he reluctantly glanced up at you, pressing his lips into an awkward thin and flat line. His shoulders rose a tad, tensing as he inhaled, and he shifted his gaze to the desk again. Clearly, he was unsure on how to navigate this current moment.

A tiny smile picked at the corners of your lips as you looked at him. "Thank you." You whispered, glancing down at his splayed out hands. Taking a chance, you reached out your own hand and placed it atop of one of his, feeling it flinch. Snape's eyes darted up to yours, and he returned your smile, though it seemed a little awkward.

Snape didn't say anything to you, he only nodded gently before pulling his hand back to himself after a few long moments, clearing his throat.

"Well, since you've stopped crying," he began, sitting up straight in his chair, "we can assume I've done a good job." A little chuckle escaped you, and it caused a loose, genuine smile to erupt on Snape's face. You noticed it, but chose not to say anything, instead silently admiring how well it suited him.

"Now I know who to come to when I'm sad." You joked lightly, and as quickly as the smile had arrived on his lips, it disappeared. You laughed, feeling a tad lighter. Though the awful situation still sat within you like a dead weight, waiting to be dealt with, it felt good to smile and laugh, especially with a man you thought to be devoid of such emotions.

"I don't think-"

"Thanks, Severus." You cut him off with a bright smile, making his heart flutter. Perhaps he would wander past your classroom a little more often than before.

Masterpost

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bored-storyteller · 1 year

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Ok this is totally self-indulgent that's off the canon, but I wrote that and now you can find it here. It is related to this and the continuation of this. Of course you are free to ignore it.

Sally Face, Sal Fisher x Reader

The sun in the night

"It's me."

If you hadn't noticed how much his fingers were shaking, now you surely heard it in his voice.

"It's really me." Sal insists, because he doesn't know what else to do.

You are there, in front of him, illuminated only by a cold artificial light, the road is empty except for you two, and you hold three large sunflowers in your arms.

"Don’t be afraid." He keeps telling you, because that's what he expected to find in you: amazement, fear, disbelief.

Yet he sees none of this in your gaze, or maybe he does, but not in the sense that he - people - would expect.

You are motionless in front of him, he almost thinks that you are not breathing, and perhaps he fears more than you the consequences of his reckless gesture, of having sought you out.

"I ... I'm back ... if you can say so ..."

Oh, how much he would like to ask you not to cry. But what right does he have? And why are you crying? For him, or for the wounds he inflicted on you? How much he wished things had been different between you two, a trip to the underworld is not enough to start all over again.

Your tears are silent, they slide down your cheeks, on your expressionless lips. And you're looking at him like you're waiting, waiting to see him disappear, maybe.

"Please ..." he finally begs, in a whisper. Sal knows he cannot expect anything, but he feels cold, cold and lonely in being so distant from you. He felt your pain, he felt it inside of him, and he would pay any cost - more than he has already done - to hold you in his arms.

Now, a word would be enough for him, just one, even a sigh.

But you don't speak, you just stand there looking at him, with wet eyes and clenched teeth.

And then, as if you were a dream, he sees you reach out to him; extend your arm in the direction of him. He doesn't hesitate in his moves, he hardly thinks when he approaches you.

Your palm is now on his chest, he holds it gently over his heart, his living heart beating in his ribcage.

"I'm here ... it's me ..." he repeats again, like a broken record, without daring to look up at you.

Even just your passive touch is a refreshment to him. At least you are there, at least you are in front of him, at least you know that he really is there.

And there would be so many things he would like - no, he should – to tell you, but like a raging river in a too small crack he can't get anything out. Everything is too important and nothing is enough. He has the distinct feeling that one wrong word can make you go away, forever, and a thousand deaths won't be enough to bring you back to him.

But he has to tell you something, he has to talk to you, he can't drop everything out of cowardice, he can't.

"I love you."

They are not his words, they are yours. The first words you say to him after his return, the first time he hears your voice.

Ba-bum.

His heart is heavy and light at the same time, it sinks into his bowels and rises until it becomes tears in his eyes.

He looks at you now, his lips parted so he can breathe under the mask. And you cry with all the emotions painted on your face as your hand squeezes against his ribs.

And if you have managed to stop the world, it is still you with a sweet whisper to recall everything, again.

"Believe me ..." you beg him. It is a desperate prayer full of all the pain you have felt. “Believe me please, I love you. I've never stopped doing it and I won't be able to stop, please ... "

And he believes that you could continue forever, in that frightened plea. You don't ask him to reciprocate, but to believe you, because he didn't.

"I know it." He interrupts "God, I know ... I know and ..." And he's so sorry he didn't believe you. How many times he would have taken back this words, while he was thinking of you, while he perceived in his own soul your suffering, your remorse for not having been able to make him understand it in time, for not having made him feel loved enough.

He would like to tell you all this, he would like to tell you that he was wrong to trust himself more than you.

But your hand on his chest is now gripping his sweatshirt in a feeble attempt to hold him, as if he could disappear at any moment, and who guarantees otherwise?

He has already left you.

And you're not even expecting him to really stay, you just want him to know that you love him, and you love him with a sweet, tender, strong love that goes beyond even death itself.

"And I love you too." And it is the only important thing he has to say to you now, when he sees you collapse under the weight of an excruciating sadness that you have endured without perspective.

"Sal ..." His name in your cry sounds like the lament of a puppy left alone, and you finally come back to your home. You are against him, in his arms, your wet face hides against his neck, his blue hair softly covers your head.

And he holds you tight, he finally protects you, feels you real, in flesh and blood.

"I have so many things to tell you ... to explain and ..."

"I don't want to know ..." you whisper, never leaving your shelter "I don't want to know how you did it, or why ... if it's a dream, I don't want to know. Just stay with me. "

He understands, and he accepts it.

Your head is resting on his shoulder like when you were sitting together by the lake years ago. Your hand looks for his, and caresses it, like the last time you met, and like the first time you met, the sunflowers shine among you.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #sally face oneshot #sally face fanfiction #writing #reader insert #sal fisher x y/n #fanfiction

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the-marshals-wife · 1 year

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The Bad Batch Having a Token of Their Love For You Would Include (Bad Batch x Reader)

A/N: I love these boys so much and I thought of this instead of going to sleep all week. I really hope y'all like my idea for Echo's especially. He deserves the galaxy and more.❤️ (I also had extra ideas that are definitely still in character but probably "anachronistic", so I just labeled them bonus. I mean we have finally 'caf'' aka coffee in SW canon, so maybe there's hope for hoodies 🤭)

Description: Bad Batch x Fem!Reader | Warnings: none, just lots fluff and kisses

★ Bad Batch Tag List ★ @dantes-devil-huntress @sageislostinspring (comment to be added!)

Gif credit: user mutantfactor

Hunter

He would get a tattoo of your name

Hunter did not need his heightened senses to be certain that he had fallen in love with you - if anything, they just strengthened his conviction that you were the one he was meant to find

Being the intensely devoted and thoughtful man he is, you were on his mind constantly, and he wanted a symbol of his love to be as a part of him as you had become

He didn't even tell you at first because he wanted it to be surprise

It wasn't until he changed into plainclothes for an undercover mission that you noticed the new black ink on his right bicep

You grabbed his arm and stared at the Aurebesh letters spelling your name

"You like it?" he asked, a little nervous

Speechless, you pulled him into a kiss

"I'll take that as a yes" he smiled, before getting another embrace filled with kisses

Whenever you have time alone together, you love to slowly trace the letters with your finger and listen as he dreamily talks about the future

Later in your relationship, he would want to add to it with a portrait of you, and someday, the names of your children

Bonus: he would keep anything you gave him like a pendant or a ring and wear it whenever he could (this man would totally wear one of your scrunchies and make it look hot - a product of his 'girl dad' powers that you find very attractive)

Wrecker

He would keep your shirt to cuddle with

The only thing Wrecker has ever been discreet about in his entire life is his feelings as he was falling for you

It wasn't for lack of trying. He had been officially head over heels for months, but every time he tried to tell you, his words suddenly came out wrong

You thought it was adorable, and you were sure he'd figure out how to say what he was feeling when he was ready. It just gave you more opportunity to realize you were falling for him too

What you couldn't figure out, however, was where your favorite shirt had disappeared to

That is until, after days of searching, you finally caught a glimpse of it tucked beneath the pillow in Wrecker's bunk

You were stifling a giggle when he walked up behind you, looking nothing less than mortified

"Oh, Y/N! That! I uh...I found it on the floor and I was going to give it back to you! But it smelled really nice, and pretty...like you, and um, then I forgot..." he stammered, his face bright red

You smiled and kissed him on the cheek, "Keep it."

In the weeks following, you would refresh it with a spray of your perfume every so often when he wasn't looking

He would also draw doodles of you whenever he had downtime

You were all on a mission not long after the discovery of that day, and during his watch, you rolled over to see him drawing in the sand with a stick. He'd scribbled your initials together within a heart, surrounded by a dozen tinier hearts.

Suffice to say he was not the only one feeling absolutely smitten from then on

Bonus: speaking of shirts, you would absolutely be the couple with the "If lost, return to ___ + I'm ___" tees (likely worn with your matching homemade 'friendship' bracelets)

Tech

He would keep a recording of your voice and laughter

Tech is a private person when it comes to his emotions, but he feels very deeply, even if he isn't sure how to best express his growing affection for you (he thinks it's obvious, after all)

It's this very reason why you doubted that he returned your feelings at first, until you walked by him one day and heard the sound of your own laughter, playing over and over

"What's that?" you questioned, now recognizing the moment that had caused your sides to nearly split (Wrecker had just taken the most dramatic fall into mud you'd ever seen, immediately after bragging he was 'too heavy' to slip)

Tech muted the sound and kept his stare on the datapad, "I capture auditory recordings of all of my interactions for analysis, and file away important data for later reference."

"My laughing is 'important data'?" you smirked as he hesitated for only a moment

"Well, no. Not technically. It is, however, a pleasant sound that reminds me of you, and one that I would like not to forget. By that reasoning, it is important to me," he stated, calmly meeting your awe-struck gaze

It took all your strength not throw yourself into his arms right then and there. He went back to filing his recordings, oblivious to the fact that he had just irreversibly won your heart

He'd also incorporate you into some of his private passcodes

Anything from your initials to your eye color to your favorite flower - just some of the many details that he associates with you and remind him of how much he cares for you

Bonus: if he had a lockscreen/background, it would definitely be a picture of you. He would also be the type to make you a playlist of your favorite songs all from memory because he knows you that well

Crosshair

He would engrave your name on his rifle

Crosshair is a man of conviction and loyalty, and when he was certain that he could trust you with his heart, he wanted to display his loyalty in turn

Modifying his rifle in any way at all is significant, so ingraining your name on the scope is a very personal gesture to him

He caught you completely by surprise on a mission, casually showing it to you while you had watch together

You were stunned to see your name glistening in the firelight, every letter expertly etched into the smooth metal, "Cross, I can't believe you would do that for me..."

"Your love makes my aim true," he replied, wholly sincere

This one remark sealed your fate, giving you both the courage to lean in and share your first kiss

"Then you will never miss," you whispered afterward

You spent the rest of your watch sitting close together in soothing silence under the stars

He would also carve your initials into the wall of his bunk

Wherever he would go, you would be there also. His devotion is unyielding, and you have a partner until the galaxy itself burns up

Bonus: a huge sign of his affection would be letting you wear his clothes. He may act disgruntled, but it's all in jest because would be the boyfriend that's extremely proud to see you walking around in his hoodie

Echo

He would have your handprint on his armor

It seemed like a lifetime since he'd had the handprint from Captain Rex on his chestplate that had meant so much to him through those long years of war

When Echo is sure of something, nothing can move him from it. Not much time was required for him to know that he wanted to share his life with you, and that he wanted your handprint on his armor

He confided in you quite a bit about his past in the GAR, and you knew about the original print, but you never dreamed that he would ask you to replicate it

"Are you sure?" you asked in disbelief

"I am, Y/N. There's no one else whose mark I'd rather carry with me, and no one I want by my side more. On and off the battlefield," he confessed, taking your hand in his

Tears welling in your eyes, you dipped your other hand into the red paint on the table, placed it carefully onto his chest, and pressed your lips to his

More than a symbol of love, you both knew this was a vow to keep fighting for a free galaxy where you could build a future together

He would also have a photo of you in his personal things

He's not afraid of letting his relationship with you be known around his brothers, but his horrifying experiences imprisoned by the Separatists have made him extra cautious in all things. He keeps his photo of you safely tucked away and never brings it on missions, not wanting to risk it falling into the hands of anyone who would ever want to harm you

Instead, whenever you're apart, he holds his hand to his chest before he drifts to sleep and dreams of you. The nightmares are all but gone

Bonus: you two would totally have matching caf mugs with snarky sayings. "Grumpy parents in the morning" vibes all the way

#the bad batch imagine #the bad batch headcanons #hunter x reader #wrecker x reader #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #echo x reader #star wars imagine #star wars headcanons #the bad batch #my writing #yes wrecker's and tech's are a bit longer #they're my faves what can i say? 🥰#plus echo and yn are totally married now i don't make the rules 🤭#the bad batch x reader #bad batch headcanons

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yuna542 · 11 months

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[1]<-

[2]

›Bad Idea‹

Pairing: Hong Woojin × Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers

Warnings: 18+, explicit Smut, under 18 DNI!, suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, hate sex, ANGST, fingering, bruises

Word Count: 6.1k

Note: Part 2… God I have so many ideas for Storys yet so little time to actually write them. But good news: I‘m soon on vacation, that means I‘ll have a lot time for writing. Hope you like this part. There will be big drama soon~ Much love

Summary: As Gunwoo‘s little sister he wanted you to finally meet his best friend. Unfortunately you don't get along. He gets on your nerves, you fight all the time and yet you can't stop messing with each other. One evening you get into a dangerous situation and end up bruised and bloody at his apartment. And you suddenly have to ask yourself: Why do you feel so attracted to that idiot?

Chapter 3:

The Mistake

Waiting, you stared at him when he made no move to turn around.

"Do you want me to change in front of you?" you asked accusingly, and that's when he seemed to remember his manners. With a wry grin, he ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, I wouldn't mind."

Stunned, you grabbed a pillow from the sofa and threw it at him to hide how your face flushed with redness. But he caught it and laughed derisively.

"Okay calm down! I'm going to take a shower too. Can you watch the ramen? It just needs a few more minutes."

Then he disappeared into the bathroom as well, and you heard the water being turned on.

After slipping into his clothes, which were of course too big for you, you had to admit that they didn't look as bad as you thought.

But you definitely wouldn't tell him that.

You continued to prepare the ramen, filling it into two bowls that you placed on the living room table, and just as you were tasting it, Woojin came out of the bathroom.

You nearly choked on a noodle at the unannounced sight of his wet adonis-like torso. He had a towel wrapped around his hips, surrounded by refreshing steam and you were sure it only took a gust of wind to loosen it. The mere thought made your whole head glow and you tried not to let on how hot you thought his entire appearance was. It was wrong to think such things and you were disgusted by your own mind. It was Woojin after all. A dickhead and an idiot with no manners or empathy.

He rubbed his hair dry with a towel and as he did so, his biceps stood out and his abs tightened. You felt reminded of history class because he looked like one of those ancient statues carved out of marble depicting naked bodies of the gods.

The bruises and red marks all over his ribs and stomach already looked nasty, and you scrunched your nose as he came closer.

"Does it hurt a lot?" you asked, pointing to one of the biggest bruises that was just below his chest.

He looked down at himself, threw away the towel in his hand, and shook his head. Casually, he dropped down on the sofa next to you and grabbed one of the bowls and chopsticks.

"It's no big deal," he dismissed it, lying.

In fact, every breath hurt like hell and he feared that a rib or two had been broken, but he would never have admitted that in his life. Not in front of you. You stared at him in disbelief for a while and before you could stretch out your finger, he caught your hand and looked at you with a warning tone:

„Don’t you dare!“, he said and you snorted amused. So you had your answer that he was just playing the hero. But you left it at that, because his tight grip on your hand was already messing up your insides again. With one last warning look, he let go of your hand and tried to look unbothered.

As you continued to eye him concerned, he shook his head like a wet dog, and when you nudged him in annoyance at the drops of water hitting you, he just grinned broadly.

"Bon appétit!" he said enthusiastically, and so you ate in silence.

The fact that he was wearing only a towel played with your mind and you tried not to stare at his body all the time, although that was getting increasingly difficult.

It wasn't long before your bowls were empty.

Woojin took them to the kitchen and when he returned, you nibbled your lower lip uneasily. He looked at you unobtrusively.

It was strange to see you sitting cross-legged, in his clothes on his couch and despite everything you looked like a princess. A sight he never imagined to see.

"Ah shit," you cursed and groaned in pain as you put too much strain on your hand.

Silently, he sat down next to you again and grabbed your hand as if it was natural. He turned it and looked at your scraped knuckles in the light. With a furrowed brow, you watched as he palpated your wrist and pulled your hand away with a hiss as a sharp pain shot through your arm.

"Ouch! Be careful, dickhead! What are you doing?" you whimpered, and he glared at you again.

"Stop bitching around! I'm trying to help so Gunwoo doesn't rip my head off. Luckily you just bruised it because you snapped your wrist when you punched him."

Questioningly, you looked at his hands, which he demonstratively clenched into fists.

"You see that? Your wrist must always be tense when you punch, otherwise you can break your hand," he explained and you made a fist as well.

"Like this?" you asked curiously, holding it out to him.

Carefully he enclosed it with his strong fingers and straightened your wrist. His skin was warm on yours and you resisted the urge to grab his hand at the last moment.

"Almost. That's it. You have to keep it straight and tense as you punches," he said, smiling delightedly. It was clear how much fun he was having teaching you some of his passion.

You caught yourself smiling pleasantly as well, as you watched the enthusiastic gleam in his eyes while he spoke. He continued to hold your hand and that's when your eyes met.

As you gazed at each other in silence, the air became electrically charged and something in your stomach fluttered uneasily.

"Do you want me to take a look at that? That looks pretty bad," he said then, pointing to the wound on your eyebrow.

Before you could even answer, he already fetched a first aid kit, which he probably needed often, and spread it out in front of you.

"Can you put some clothes on first?" you asked before he could come closer, fearing you would lose your mind if he touched you like that too. You waved your hand in front of his chest, while you tried to avoid eye contact:

„That is irritating...“

He himself seemed to have completely forgotten that he was half naked and took a pair of boxershorts from the pile of clothes and slipped into them without further ado.

„Oh really? I thought you could handle a real man“, he provoked and was obviously proud of his stupid saying. You just crossed your arms and looked up to him with raised eyebrows.

„I could if there was one here.“

Offended, he mumbled something unintelligible, which certainly was an insult and rummaged in the pile of clothes. Then he put on a black shirt with the typical 'Metallica' lettering printed on it, before he sat down in front of you again and leaned your head on the chin to the side to have a better view of the cut on your eyebrow.

With skillful moves, he prepared disinfection, a wound ointment and a plaster. It was obvious that he was skilled at this. You already knew the procedure from Gunwoo as well.

You had treated him and his best friend countless times when they came home after training or a fight. Not only boxers knew quickly about such things, but also their environment.

"Now that hurts a little bit. I'm counting to three. One..."

And already he pressed the swab with the disinfectant on the spot and you squeaked loudly in pain. It was obviously the revenge for your mean comment.

Angrily, you punched him in the shoulder. This time your wrist was tense, yet it seemed to have no effect on him.

"What the hell! You said on the count of three!" you snapped at him, squinting your eyes as your entire head seemed to be on fire. God you hated him so much.

"It must come unexpectedly. It’s better," he replied, clearly amused, and dabbed the ointment on your wound with such gentleness as you were not used to from him.

Expertly, he stuck a plaster above your eyebrow and looked at his work with satisfaction.

"Voilà!" he presented it with both hands and smiled.

"Now it's your turn!" you said then and he nodded curtly.

"Okay. But please don't make it worse than it is," he replied teasingly and you gave him an annoyed look. As you set to work dabbing the wounds, you asked in passing:

"Why did you help me?"

"You're my best friend's sister. So you're my responsibility, too."

Your eyes met for a moment and there was that crackling energy again, making your skin tingle. Quickly you averted your eyes and pressed the swab with disinfectant on his wound to stop whatever was happening. It was almost panic as you avoided his gaze. He twitched slightly, but didn't make a sound.

"I mean how did you find me?"

The question had been burning on your tongue ever since he had suddenly appeared and beaten the assholes to a mush.

"I stayed at the party to keep an eye on you. Then when you left, I followed you."

Briefly, you paused and looked at him suspiciously.

"That's kind of creepy..."

He leaned against the back of the sofa with one arm and tilted his head a little.

"Oh well, you're lucky I was there."

He was right about that. Without him, something really bad would have happened. You didn't even want to imagine how it would have turned out if he hadn't shown up like a knight in shining armour.

But then something occurred to you.

"You've been watching me? The whole time?" you asked, thinking about your little makeout session with the guy. Had he seen all of that?

"It wasn't my idea... Gunwoo wanted me to watch you."

That made more sense. Your brother had told him to do it. Woojin probably didn't care at all what happened to you. You breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't bring up making out. He probably hadn't even noticed.

You nodded slowly and began spreading the cream on his wounds.

"Thanks anyway."

He watched as your eyes wandered intently over his face, trying to get every detail. How your eyebrows lifted slightly when you spoke or how you nibbled on your lower lip when you were thinking or concentrating.

Your slender fingers felt comfortable against his skin and he secretly wished you would never stop touching him.

"There is one thing that does interest me..."

"Huh?"

"Why did you just leave the poor guy? Was he that bad?" he asked, and immediately your heart flipped over and heat shot into your cheeks. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and tried to avoid his gaze.

So he had seen it after all and couldn't just let it go.

And the worst part was that he clearly enjoyed the way shame turned your cheeks red and you uncomfortably brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"No... he... I was... that's not the..."

You cursed yourself for only stammering coming out of your mouth, but Woojin had caught you off guard. Why were you so uncomfortable talking to him about it, and why didn't he stop looking at you so piercingly? Under no circumstances would you have told him the truth. That you had been thinking about him while someone else was all over you. You hated the fact yourself and still blamed it on the alcohol.

The corners of his mouth twitched knowingly and only now did you notice how close his lips hovered in front of yours. You had been so focused on treating his wound that you hadn't noticed how close your faces were in front of each other.

If you wanted to, you just had to lean forward a little and you could touch his lips with yours.

"So?" he asked teasingly, his voice getting a lot deeper.

His shimmering eyes made you all jittery and when he put his hand on your hip, your breathing only faltered.

"He just wasn't my type," you tried to end the subject, spreading the last of the ointment on his cheek.

"What's your type?" he continued to ask, and you hated his handsome face, prominent jawline and those engaging eyes for making you a flustered mess.

"Why do you want to know?" you mumbled, putting the ointment down and freezing as he lifted your chin with his index finger so you had to look him in the eye.

"Just out of curiosity."

Was he flirting with you? No he couldn't be. He was just messing with you and would laugh at you at any moment for taking it from him. After all, he didn't even like you and you didn't like him, so what was all this about?

"I can tell you what's not my type..."

"I'm listening."

His eyes were luminous in the dim light of his apartment. Your voice was low, but soft as velvet.

"Guys who are cheeky and ruthless. Act stupid all the time. Who don't know when to shut up. Who prefer to solve their problems with their fists rather than their mind. And think with their dick rather than their brain."

"Then I'm your walking nightmare."

You snorted in amusement and there your noses brushed against each other. The brief contact was enough to make everything go crazy in your head.

"And you? What kind of girls are you into?" you asked, just to say something.

Maybe to stop what was about to happen. He put his hand gently against your cheek and you could feel his warm breath brush against your lips as he spoke. You were both fighting an internal battle, wanting to break away from each other and put as much distance between you as necessary. However, your bodies did not obey.

"Until now, I thought I knew."

The rasp in his voice gave you goosebumps. Everything in you screamed to flee, to push him away and never speak a word to him again. But the heat rushed in your ears and your body no longer listened to you.

"What do you mea..." you were interrupted when his lips collided with yours and he pulled you stormily closer.

The defiant voice in your head grew quieter and the kiss was chaotic, emotional. Just as you knew Woojin and sensual at the same time.

His tongue slid over your lower lip and as soon as you opened your lips a little, your tongues fought for dominance. His hands slid to your hips, reaching for you, and you buried your fingers in the fabric of his shirt at his chest. Soon the whole thing was just a mess of tongues, teeth, groping and greedy touches.

All the tension between you, the anger and adrenaline of tonight unloaded between you and he tasted so addictive you never wanted to taste anything else. You didn't know if it was minutes, maybe hours, when you broke away from each other, panting.

Only then did you remember what was actually happening.

"What the... How," you stammered and ran your hands through your hair, overwhelmed. You couldn't bear to look each other in the eye for even a second, afraid of what else you would conjure up.

"I'm sorry. That was stupid," he muttered, and then you dared to look at him again. His lips lured seductively.

It all didn't matter now anyway, did it?

"Yes. It was."

He took a rasping breath as you grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and roughly pulled him closer again.

"Do it again!" you murmured, and he didn't need to be told twice. Relieved, his hands flew to your hips and your lips crashed together again. He pulled you onto his lap and you buried your fingers in his hair as you licked incessantly into each other's mouths.

The kiss was heated and more passionate than anything you had ever experienced. Like a fire it burned everything to ashes and his hands explored your body everywhere the fabric revealed a strip of skin.

"Shit you taste like candy," he murmured between kisses to your lips, spreading them along your jawline. A sigh escaped you as he grazed the sensitive spot behind your ear and you unconsciously rolled your hips against him.

He turned you on in a way that made your heart pound and your head spin. Briefly he paused and looked at the strangulation marks on your neck left by the gorilla.

Carefully he stroked the reddened areas and you thought you felt relief only from his touch.

Then he gently brushed his lips over them, caressing your skin as if he could heal it like that, and you laid your head back with your eyes closed while he worked his magic all over your neck. It was unreal how he melted your whole body just with that.

He ran his hands under your shirt and stroked your belly, your sides, up to your back. Gradually you couldn't stand it anymore. Your core pulsed excitedly and you wanted everything from him at once.

"Stop teasing!" you gasped as he sank his teeth into your neck. He lifted his gaze and looked like a puppy with those shiny eyes and excited smile.

"I can't help it. You're too cute, the way you're so desperately grinding on me."

Startled, you only now noticed how you rolled your hips against his middle. Your body had taken on a life of its own, desperately trying to create more friction to soothe the immense desire in your lower belly.

"Are you blushing?" he teased, squeezing your hips.

"Are you shy after all?"

Annoyed by his jokes and arrogance, you unceremoniously pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. You could play this game, too. He should realize that he wasn't in control.

Surprised, he raised his eyebrows and his gaze was immediately glued to your naked body. He stared at your perfect breasts that he had imagined so many times when you came rushing into Gunwoo's room in those short pajama shirts that were way too small for you to yell at them to turn down the music.

"Fuck... Your tits are really perfect," escaped him and he immediately grabbed your breasts with both hands, cupped them and groped them while he spread kisses on your collarbone again.

"Do you think about my tits often?" you asked provocatively, gasping as soon as he sucked your skin and kneaded the soft flesh of your tits in his hands. The heat flowed together in a river between your legs and you could feel his hardened length through the fabric of his boxers.

"No wonder when you dress so slutty...you always run around in those short clothes at home when I'm there," he shot back less eloquent, completely distracted by your curves and soft skin. Soon his mouth closed around your nipple and he also worked your soft skin on your breasts as if he couldn't get enough.

You pushed him back roughly on his chest until he hit the back of the sofa and looked up at you with a mischievous expression on his face.

"You're insulting me while you're groping me all desperate?" you asked incredulously, taking advantage of the moment to take a breath.

"I thought you couldn't stand me?"

He pressed your hips harder against his in response, so that his hard dick pressed right up against your needy cunt. It was a little scary how big he felt through the fabric.

"I can't stand you. But I still think you're hot. Stop with the sass mouth. I know you want me!" he replied sharply and you laughed in amusement.

"You have a really overrated self-esteem."

Nevertheless, with greedy fingers you finally ripped his shirt off his body and stroked his bruises with care. His abs felt hard under your fingers and you sucked in a sharp breath as he began to rub your hips against his hard length.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, placing kisses all over your chest, nibbling on your neck. You threw your head back, growing,

"Fuck, If i didn't I wouldn't be half-naked on you."

Satisfied, he grabbed your ass and stood up with you as if you weighed no more than a feather. You held onto his neck and so he carried you to his room.

Red LED lights bathed the small room in an spicy atmosphere and in the corner of the room was a bed on which he placed you. He stepped between your legs and climbed over you until he was looking down on you.

He enjoyed the sight of your exposed body beneath him and before he could gape any further, you pulled him down to you and kissed him again.

At the same time he helped you get rid of the sweatpants and couldn’t stop touching your skin everywhere. You could feel his dick pressed against your thigh through his underwear, and your cunt tingled excitedly as his hands traveled agonizingly slowly down your belly.

"You want me to touch you, don't you?" he whispered in your ear, his fingers playing across the surface of your underwear and making you very, very aware of how wet they were.

"You are so arrogant. It's disgusting you know?" you said with a razor sharp tone that made his eyebrows twitch. It was the typical expression you always saw when you got on his nerves and managed to make him angry.

You tried not to look particularly impressed as he brushed his hand over your inner thigh, and yet as soon as he stroked your covered middle, you exhaled loudly.

"Uhh... Do you think you can resist much longer? Just admit you want me," he purred and god he had no idea how much you wanted to tear the last shred of fabric from his trained body, so that he would fuck you senseless. But instead you stubbornly withstood his gaze and let your fingers wander in circles over his chest.

"Do you really think you can satisfy me? You seem to have quite a bit to compensate for.... ah"

A short cry, more like a surprised moan escaped you as he slipped his hand unannounced into your panties and sank two fingers inside you.

Smugly, he began pumping them into your wet cunt while your mouth was open and you clung tensely to his upper arm, which he used to support himself next to your head. He looked down at you with a dangerous grin, like a predator eyeing its prey, and you could no longer hide what his touches were doing to you.

His thumb began to massage your clit at the same time and the heat in your lower abdomen clenched into a coil of pure fire. Whatever he did with his fingers made you drift off completely into the fog of ecstasy and the sinful moan he tore from you was like a reward for him.

"That sounds so much better... If I had known your moans sounded so pretty, I would have shut you up by doing this much sooner."

His words made the anger rise in you again. Why could you absolutely dislike each other, and yet it was the hottest thing you had ever experienced?

He sped up the motions of his fingers and the room was filled with the wet sounds and your moans as he memorized every expression on your face. You were beautiful the way you looked at him out of those angry big eyes, but couldn't hide the way your high rolled relentlessly closer.

"Don't you dare stop!" you gasped breathlessly, and he just laughed softly as your fingernails dug into his arm and he felt your cunt clench around his fingers.

"Don't worry. I want to see your face when you come around my fingers," he breathed against your ear and sucked on your neck, working his way back down and wrapping his lips around your nipple. He bit into it lightly while you were already starting to see stars.

His long fingers and mouth on your heated skin was enough to drive you over the top.

Trembling, you buried your hands in his hair and tugged on his strands overwhelmed as the world around you faded into white while you moaned his name as you came.

He savored your high to the last second and then he pulled his fingers out of your panties. While your chest rose and fell frantically and you tried to get back in touch with reality, he slipped his fingers into his mouth and licked your juices off of them.

Then he leaned down to you again and kissed you. With the kiss you slowly drifted back to reality. He had given you the best orgasm of your life only with his fingers. You could only imagine what it would be like to feel his dick.

The kiss was messy and hurried, tongues exploring every corner they could find and gradually swayed into sensuality. He grinded his hard dick against your inner thigh and you could clearly feel how impatient he was getting.

You felt how you became addicted to more, which is why you ran your fingers down his stomach. Even though you saw him half naked every day at training, it was something else to feel his muscles. Firm and seductive pressed against your soft body.

Almost playfully, you let your fingers wander over his waistband of boxers, sliding them in a bit as he greedily licked into your mouth and kneaded your breast with one hand.

He exhaled rattling as you rubbed your covered pussy right against his dick and he felt the soaked fabric even through his underwear. Your body was like a drug he would probably never get off of again.

His dick was so hard it was already painful and you smiled as he broke the kiss, breathlessly almost begging:

"Can I fuck you?"

"Just shut the fuck up and do it already!" you replied and it was as if you had given the starting signal for a boxing match. He tore off his underwear and got rid of your panties in record speed.

When his cock jumped free and bounced heavily against his belly, you couldn't suppress a surprised gasp.

He was indeed big... Very big.

When he noticed your gaze, he smiled with satisfaction and lined himself up with you.

"Still think I need to compensate for something?" he asked mockingly and you could feel his tip already at your entrance.

"Do you want to talk or fuck me?" you shot back as your cunt was already pulsing impatiently and you wanted to finally feel him. Even if it would hurt.

"You're so incredibly annoying..." he grumbled, and held your hips in place, so that you couldn't move back from his massive cock. Before you could retort anything snarky, he pushed in one unbroken movement inside of you and your entire body came alive with electric pleasure that has you gasping as he held you there, with his hands firmly on your hips to stop you from wiggling away. As he draws back and pushes back in so hard your vision splits with stars and heat explodes beneath your skin.

It hurt as he stretched you out and you could only see through the tears how much he enjoyed your fucked out face as he proved to you that he wasn't just talking stupid. You clawed at his back and your gasps quickly turned to pornographic moans. The pain was flooded and washed away by the arousal the more he stretched you out.

His thrusts hit something inside of you that made you soon choke on your moans, because you were still so tangled up from his fingers teasing you that you were close again already, and you knew exactly that he's never going to let you live this down.

Woojin was a professional athlete, you knew that. But now you realised behind closed doors, under the sheets, he was an olypian.

He set a fast pace, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, deeper inside of you every time. The world around you blurred in arousal and you wrapped your legs around his hips as he seemed to hit deeper with every thrust. His bed squeaked dangerously and banged loudly against the wall. Woojin's neighbors would probably barely be able to sleep a second, but you couldn't care less.

"You feel incredible," he gasped, intercepting your whimpers with intense kisses, and you felt yourself falling apart at any moment. When he perceived that your body was tensing, he intertwined his fingers with yours and pressed your hand into the mattress beside your head.

"Woojin... fuck... I'm gonna..."

You didn't remember how to form words or put them in proper order, but he understood you even without words. He read your reactions and your body like a book.

"It's okay, dollface! Come around my cock!"

At that moment, something exploded in your head and your orgasm gripped you with such force that you moaned his name loudly and your walls almost crushed him. It was like your body was burning and your brain was turning to mush. If you died now, you would be beyond pissed because you were with Woojin, but at least you had the best sex of your whole life.

"Fuck... oh fuck," he moaned, and a low growl escaped him as he too was on the verge.

"Come inside me! I'm on the pill!" you gasped and he moaned at your words.

„Shit... You're naughty."

He only thrusted into you hard one more time until he too came and shot his load deep inside you. After a few sloppy thrusts, he collapsed on top of you breathing heavily and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

So you slowly calmed down, listening to each other's heartbeat, and you stroked him dizzy over the back. It took quite a while for both of you to gradually drift back out of the thick fog of fuzzy state.

Neither dared to say a word for fear of what would happen. Silently you traced the lines of his marine tattoo and he grumbled comfortably, making your body vibrate.

"What did we do...", you whispered after a while and that's when he lifted his head, took another deep breath of your scent to store it in his mind and then rolled off you onto his back.

Suddenly everything was like before, only the heavy smell of sex in the air was new. You swallow at the awkward aftermath because you didn't think this far. You never even thought this was a possibility in any universe.

You both stared at the ceiling, trying to understand what had just happened. You pulled the blanket around your body and rolled onto your side, with your back to him.

What was that fluttering in your stomach? Why couldn't you bear to look at him?

Restlessly, you nibbled on your bottom lip and closed your eyes. Hopefully you would just wake up in your bed and all this had never happened. It would just be a dream, that you could be ashamed of, but nobody would ever know about it. Especially Woojin would never know. You had a feeling that everything he did would now somehow remind you of sex with him.

"Still hate me?" he asked into the silence and you replied:

"Definitely"

"Just as much?"

"Maybe a little less"

You raised your eyebrows in surprise when he actually laughed. You stared at the opposite wall until the corners of your mouth went up as well and you giggled too. The whole situation was too surreal to be true.

First your mortal enemy saved you from thugs and then fucked you senseless.

That's when you turned around and looked at him. He ran his hand through his thick curls and when your eyes met, you grinned like idiots. Never in your life had you expected this situation.

He also rolled onto his side until your faces hovered close to each other.

"That was a mistake," you mumbled after a while and he nodded.

"Yes... Gunwoo must never know about this."

For the first time, you fully agreed with him, and the mere thought of your brother getting to know even a glint of it gave you goosebumps. Still, you couldn't stop looking dreamily at the other and admiring each other's features. Were his cheekbones always this sharp?

"Then let's not regret it until tomorrow..." he then murmured and that was okay with you. Silently you nodded and that's when he reached out and pulled you closer by your hips under the covers.

You snuggled against his chest and he put his big arms around your body, squeezing your ass teasingly.

Just for tonight.

That's what you kept saying to each other in your mind. It was just for tonight and tomorrow all this had never happened.

After all, the whole thing had nothing to mean.

So it was okay when your lips lay on each other again and your hands wandered over each other's bodies. Just for tonight. You delayed the morning as long as possible, until you fell asleep snuggled close to him, relaxed and secure.

And with a smile on your lips.

The next morning, when Woojin woke up, you were gone. So were your things, and he looked in his closet for safety. Only when he saw that his clothes were indeed missing, he believed that he had not imagined the whole thing.

While eating breakfast, he glanced at his phone and spotted a message from you:

"If you tell anyone about this, you're dead."

Despite the threat, he smiled slightly and looked at the sofa where the first aid kit still lay.

You had disappeared in the early morning. It would be too strange to look him in the eyes in the morning. You didn't know what you would say and you would have liked to leave the country, never to see him again.

The worst thing was that you just couldn't stop thinking about last night. On the bus you unconsciously smelled his shirt you were wearing again and you would have loved to punch yourself.

Quietly, you unlocked your front door and were about to sneak into your room, but Gunwoo was already awake and packing his training bag. When he heard the door, he turned to you and froze when he saw the wound on your temple.

Then his gaze traveled down your body and only when he had silently looked at your torn dress in your hands as well, did he ask:

"What happened?"

You couldn't say anything. You just stood there and suddenly everything fell away from you. The attack, the beating, the feeling of the gorilla's hand around your neck, and finally the bruises in your palms from the rope.

It all came back with such force that you trembled and tears welled up in your eyes.

Immediately, your brother came up to you worriedly and wrapped you in his arms. You let everything you held in your hands fall and buried your face against his chest, while your body was shaken by heartbreaking sobs. The hopelessness and fear you had felt reverberated within you, but Gunwoo's smell and warmth softened the helpless feeling.

He was the only one you could admit your weaknesses to, and your heart instantly lightened as he stroked your hair and just held you close.

"It's all right. I'm here," he murmured reassuringly and as soon as you caught your breath, you sat down at the kitchen table where his boxing gloves were.

Then you told him everything. Well, almost everything.

You left out the thing about Woojin and the sex. After all, that had never happened.

Gunwoo's face darkened with every word and his knuckles stood out white, so tightly did he clench his hands into fists. After you finished, you restlessly played with one of his bandages lying on the table.

"Are you mad?" you asked quietly, and that was the first time he really looked at you.

"God no! I'm just glad you're okay. I should have taken better care of you..."

He blamed himself. You quickly shook your head and reached for his hand across the table.

"No it wasn't your fault. Besides, Woojin was there to save me after all."

He nodded, but his jaw twitched tensely. Then he stood up and hugged you so tightly that you could barely breathe. But that was okay.

As he continued packing his things, you took your first real look around the kitchen. The cabinet under the sink was open and there were pipes and towels everywhere.

"What happened here?"

Gunwoo zipped up his bag and slipped into his jacket to leave for training.

"A pipe broke... I've already called a plumber and Mom really wanted to fix it herself. Could you help out at the café today?"

"Sure. Then I'll bring you pastries to training this afternoon."

Gunwoo's eyes sparkled with delight and he nodded vehemently.

"That sounds good. I'll see you later then."

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you tousled his hair in revenge before he disappeared through the door.

Shortly after, you fell back into bed and slept for another hour before heading to the café.

-> [3]

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Taglist (open):

@marked-unknown @littlebaby-bunbun @officialshania @choisoorin @fanaticnae @lola2004sworld @penny44224 @artisticbirb @amnmich @tasteskz-sworld

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funficwriter · 8 months

Text

A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

Letters' Interlude - 1

A/N: So these aren't official chapters per say, just an extra to the story that explores the yandere dynamic I'm trying to put forth! Also, I love listening to romantic music while writing for this 🩵 Until I finish Chapter 2, enjoy!

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy and fake niceness, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Warnings: Obsessive yandere language, graphic details in Wriothesley's.

Tag: @yue-caelum

From: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

Dearest Duke,

I am not quite sure how to begin or structure my thoughts, so I hope you forgive me if this letter turns out messy. It's barely been 24 hours since our fateful meeting and I finally got some privacy. I should interest you in the fact that today's tea is Earl Grey. I'm having it right now, accompanied by a chocolate and strawberry mille-feuille. If you're ever feeling bold, I'd recommend this combination. Quite the contrast on the taste buds.

I realized that even with our cadence and how we enjoyed chatting together, there's still so much to know. How have you been doing? I'm presuming you're at the Fortress. How is life there? How do you spend your days there? Is it a lot of work? You told me a bit of the nurse. Sigewinne, if I recall correctly. Does she have a lot of patients? And what tea do you drink when you're feeling so tired and done with the world? (I'm partly asking this one for myself. Some days are like that.).

Though I must say, since Liffey is a bit far from Romaritime or the Court's region, you must have a good teleportation waypoint. Belleau is far, too, but by Focalors' name it is enjoyable. It's quiet, lush and lovely. The water is so nice to swim in too. I find that regular swimming is one of the most beautiful parts of my day. I might be heading into more dangerous territory saying this, but I believe you'd enjoy it a lot if I took you with me. If you had a day off and I showed you around, we could then swim in one of the lakes. It's so refreshing and fun, and a good break from the city.

Don't get me wrong; I love its bustle and life. But I know when we return, I'm going to have to look over these boring nobles' declarations, and meet with them more often. Speaking of which, I'm sorry to sound so forward, but... Well, are you interested in carrying this further?

I'd like to tell you something about my worldview. As you know, I read a lot, but last night I couldn't get into the 'why' due to mother's timing. As a child, I felt strangely bored with existence, maybe to a worrying point. That would explain my parents' fretting. I liked the dance and violin lessons, but there was something about my books that gave my gray life a bit of color. Unfortunately, having to come back to real life was a painful must. There were times where I thought to myself: "Is this really life? Boring, plain, and feeling wrong for watching everyone's intense reactions while I derived joy from so few things?". I didn't even want to think about my future as I become a woman. This was all before we met.

Ah, Wriothesley! I've been imagining it over and over in my head! I even stood outside in the cold and closed my eyes and pretended you were right next to me... Imagine my pain when I confronted reality, mixed with the excitement I felt remembering you! Even now, I can't stop kicking my feet as I write this. For the very first time, I was proven wrong. I was mistaken about life, and who said mistakes were bad? After years of chasing perfection, believing it was beauty and goodness... Why, I might have committed the most beautiful fault in existence!

Will you please prove me wrong again? I know I might get greedy and stick to my old worldview, just for it to happen again. But I swear, I'll be good and I'll stop. I just want to feel my entire body and soul rattling in excitement once more. And you're the only one that happens with.

Mother and Father are planning another social, soon after we return to the Court's region. My understanding says you're not often social, so if you don't want any part of it (or even, if I'm being too intense), discard this letter. I must go now, but if you're as invested as I, I will be awaiting a response. And if Celestia is kind, I will be open for more. I'll be open for anything if it's with you.

Yours truly,

Lady Y/N Balthazar

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From: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

To: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To my cherished Lady,

I would like to start off by expressing my most feverish thanks, for reasons beyond enumeration. You taking the time to send me this lovely letter is the least of them. It is generally good form for a Duke to answer quick when he can, but I was so overjoyed with your letter's contents, I re-read it many times to take in all the joy you graced me with. I was also very touched with your personal confiance in me, so I'm also writing to return the favor.

First off, do you know how much I yearn to hear about your day, down to the little details? You talked a good deal about Belleau. I didn't care much about that region before, but now? All I've been thinking about is those fresh waters and woods you praised so highly. The only imagination I entertained was you, holding my hand, whispering that there were no nosy gossipers or greedy parents. Just the two of us, and the lake was all ours to swim in until we couldn't.

If it makes you laugh, I thought about it so much, I almost mistakenly wrote some prisoners' region tab as Belleau. Had Sigewinne not been near, the administrative mistake would have been a pain to fix. Are you laughing? I hope for it with all my heart.

And I want to know more. I want to know whether Earl Grey is your favorite, or you're only taking it because it's been brewed at that time. I want to know which chocolate you like best. Which books you're currently reading, and why you're so interested in lycanthropes without a hint of discrimination. Will you tell me more? If we get the chance to talk with less barriers, will you enlighten me with you?

After getting to know your old worldview, I question just how alike we are. It's easy for two people to share superficial interests. But when one feels so dissected, so naked knowing about another's deeper life and secrets, you can't help but question whether Celestia really does link souls. Whether you once knew them, or whether fate can be so perfect to send such a person your way. I'm sure you felt terrified writing it. Your mailbox may be private, but who knows when your family feels nosy and reads it? You know of the risks that come with such correspondence, especially as a maiden. Despite that, you didn't throw it into the trash. You wrote it, and sent it to me, letting me know about you. You may have just intoxicated me, and now I feel like I might die if that is all I know of you.

As respect to this, I'll confide in you, only it may be a little graphic. "If you feel queasy after this, feel free to end our correspondence here."... Is what I wish I could say with full honesty, because after that night, I'm not sure whether I can really be okay with that outcome.

I used to commit crime, both petty and serious. Such was the life of an orphan at the time. Being little fish wasn't an option; You had to be the top dog or get eaten alive. I opted for the first, even if it landed me in prison later on. My convictions range quite a bit, but once I grew up, I renounced crime. Even insignificant things. I wanted to leave that behind me.

Forget the obvious stealing sweets from the kitchen. When I saw that slimy Duke Arya talking to you, touching your shoulder, acting as if he always knew you and your wedding was tomorrow, I never felt the urge to murder as much as I did that night. The reasons behind my old violent crimes felt so small next to the ugly sight in front of me. You clearly didn't want him, but he kept going, as if you'd magically change your mind and be into slimeheads like him. How dare he be the reason you were pulled apart from me? Where does he get the gall to take you, act like you're owed to him if your parents decided?

How I wanted to end his pathetic standing, laughing, breathing. How I wanted to use my vision and punch his head out into an ice block, then freezing his wrangling body so he wouldn't mess up the carpet. How I wanted to lunge at him, bite, claw and make a bloody mess out of him. What did it matter if I perpetuated half-wolf stereotypes, when he was doing this? Which would hurt him more? Only one idea stopped me: You might not react to a show of violence so well. Oh, if I traumatized you, I'd never forgive myself. Being sent back to jail would be too light a punishment for a beast like that.

Please don't worry about transport, or ask about my attendance. I'm determined to attend that social. I'm so happy you told me about this in advance; I'm going to be seeing you, in all your radiance and beauty that make the world pale. So long as that happens, all is well for now. In the meantime, I'm adding some final touches to my declaration, and eagerly waiting for our next meeting, and hopefully the time I can freely take you into my arms, kiss you and prove the both of us wrong about everything.

With all the love I can hold,

Duke Wriothesley

#genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere wriothesley #yandere wriothesley x reader #yandere reader #yandere fontaine x reader

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ofstarsandvibranium · 3 months

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To Have & To Hold: Part 10

Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight (Mafia AU)

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader, Jake Lockley x F!Reader

Summary: To ensure you’re always safe even after his passing, your father, a mob boss, makes you marry his right hand, Marc Spector. You don’t necessarily hate Marc, but you don’t get along either. Therefore, this marriage of convenience may be a bit difficult for you.

Series Masterlist

The past week and a half was a blur to you. Your father sacrificed himself to make sure Harrow couldn't touch you or his empire again. Marc was with you every single day since the death of your father. He tried helping you as much as he could, being there for you, holding you when you cried. Still, he felt absolutely helpless.

The funeral was hard. All of your father's allies came to pay their respects as he was laid to rest. At the estate, Yelena was quick to hand you a drink.

"The family heads are waiting for you in your father's office," she said as she took a sip from her own drink.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, "They can't at least give me a day of rest?" Yelena shrugs as she pats your shoulder, "Good luck. Both of you," she nods to Marc and you.

Marc's arm wraps around you and rest on your hip, "We can do this." He kisses your temple and guides you to your father's office.

When you walk in, the low chatter that was going on immediately stops. All eyes are on you. You stare at your father's empty chair and feel like you're doing something wrong, being there without him.

You clear your throat and look around you. You clasp your hands in front of you to prevent fidgeting, "First off, thank you all for being here. I'm," you pause as your words get stuck in your throat, "I'm sure my dad really appreciates it." You run your hands down your black dress, "Um, so I'm assuming this meeting is to discuss the new head of the L/N Family?"

Alexei speaks up, "We're all aware that your father planned to have Spector take over and we all know about your arrangement. However, as respect for you, we just want to make sure this is still what you want."

You haven't thought much about your arrangement with Marc since your father's death. You've been too busy mourning as well as making funeral arrangements to really think about your engagement at all. However, throughout this time, you felt more at peace when he was around. He held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Even when you lashed out at him at the beginning because he didn't talk your father out of his sacrifice, he continued to be there for you. Things drastically changed and now...well, now you can't imagine Marc not being there with you in the future.

You turn to Marc, stepping out of his hold and slipping your hand into his, "Yes," then then turn to the family heads, "I do still intend on marrying Marc and having him take my father's place."

Marc squeezes your hand, "You sure?"

You nod, "I'm sure. There's no one else I trust with my father's organization."

Bucky, from the Barnes Family, speaks up, "I suggest you lovebirds get married soon. Harrow might not have been the only one ballsy enough to pull this shit. The sooner you're married the more serious people will take Spector as the head."

Your shoulder slump. Whether you were marrying Marc or not, you always saw yourself being walked down the aisle with your dad. But he's not here anymore.

Your wedding is straying further and further away than what you dreamt of.

Marc nods at Bucky, "We'll handle it," he glances at you and then back at the group before him, "Well, I think anything else that needs to be discussed can wait until tomorrow. Please enjoy the refreshments and thank you again for coming."

You and he step to the side as the family heads files out of the room. The last to leave was Alexei. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. You let out a little sob and he soothes you.

"There, there, my little sunshine. You'll be okay. You're strong, yes?"

You pull away, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks, "I have to ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Will you walk me down the aisle of my wedding?"

Alexei looks at you in surprise, "Me?"

"You're like a second father to me, Lexei. Since my father is no longer here-"

"Of course, I'll do it. It would be an honor." He kisses your forehead and a soft smile.

He then turns to Marc and gives him a stern look, "If I hear a word about you mistreating her-"

"You don't have to worry about that, Alexei."

Alexei nods, "Good." Satisfied, he leave the room and you let out a deep breath.

You face Marc and immediately rest your head against him, "There's so much that needs to be done. How far up should be move the wedding? Did we pick a venue? I can't remember. Then we need to pick catering-"

"Hey, hey. No," Marc steps back, holding your by the shoulders, "Don't worry about that right now," he moves his hands to cup your face, "Go up to your room and rest."

"All I've been doing lately has been resting while you handle everything."

He shrugs, "Isn't this what I signed up for?" You open your mouth to object but he shakes his head, "Don't. Your father made sure I was well prepared for anything and everything that may come up being in this position. I'll handle it all. I just-" he pauses to let out a deep breath, "I just want to make sure you're okay."

You give him a soft smile, "Thank you. I-I know I've been so hot and cold with you since this whole arrangement began but...I really can't see anyone else in this position, at my side, than you."

"That's good to know," he murmurs and he kisses your forehead and then rests his against yours, "Go upstairs and rest," he whispers before pulling away and leaving you in your father's office.

Maybe you should just tell everyone to leave? Steven suggests in Marc's head.

"I can't. I need to show face, mingle with the families and friends."

Y/N needs us, though.

"I just want to give her some space, Steven. Let her have some time alone. She hasn't had much of that lately."

If you're sure.

"I am."

_________________________

When you woke up, it was dark out. You check the time on your phone it reads that it's past midnight. Do you have several notifications and unread messages from people? Yes, but right now you just want to see where Marc is.

You roll out of bed and pull on one of your old hoodies. You call out for Marc in case he might be near by. You were greeted with silence.

You descend the stairs seeing the kitchen light on. It's too late for your family's personal chef to be here so you're sure it's Marc.

When you enter the kitchen, you see Marc. He's sitting at the counter munching on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a mug of hot tea beside him.

"Marc?"

He looks up, eyes wide as if he'd been caught in a crime. He quickly swallows his food and sets the sandwich onto his plate, "Oh, um, hello," you hear the British accent and immediately know it's Steven.

"Oh. Hi, Steven."

"You alright?" he looks at you with concern.

You sigh, "I will be. I just need time."

He nods in understanding and gestures to the sandwich, "You want one? Or there's leftovers from the caterers. Marc snagged a little bit of everything since he wasn't sure what you'd want to eat later."

"That's thoughtful of him," you say, going to the fridge and seeing several tupperwares packed with food. You pull each one out, setting them on the island counter, "You want me to heat you up some?"

"Oh no, I'm fine with my sandwich. I'm vegan so I couldn't eat a lot of that stuff."

"Ah. Marc never told me that. I'll make sure to get you vegan options. Do you have any preferences of brands or milk alternatives?"

"You don't need to-"

"I want to, Steven. We'll technically be living together too. I want to make sure you have everything you need."

He softly smiles at you, "You're-That's really sweet of you, love."

You nod, also giving him a soft smile, "Of course." You continue to pile a bit of everything onto your plate and heating it up in the microwave.

You two eat in silence, but it wasn't awkward. You're scrolling through your phone while Steven reads a book on Egyptology. You figure that this would be a good time for you to get to know him more.

"Do you enjoy Egyptology?" you ask him. He looks up and you point to his book.

He breaks out into a smile, "I absolutely love it. The history, the literature, the religion. It's all so fascinating. The Pyramid of Khufu at Giza is the largest Egyptian pyramid. It weighs just as much as 16 Empire State buildings!" He says the fact with excitement and you break out into a grin. His excitement is contagious.

"Tell me more."

Steven snorts, "Oh no. If you do, I'll never shut up."

"I don't want you to shut up, Steven." You bring yourself closer to him and Steven's a little taken back by your actions.

"Oh, um, are you sure?" You can tell Steven's hesitant by the way he starts fidgeting with the thermal shirt he's wearing. The sleeves pulled all the way down to cover a majority of his hands.

"I mean, if you want to. I don't want to force you-"

"No, no, no! That's not it. It's just...I tend to ramble on too much and people get annoyed of me."

You place a reassuring hand on Steven's, "I promise that won't happen. Besides, I think it'd be good we get to know each other, right? Since, you know, I'm marrying Marc and you're a part of him."

"But it's late. You're not tired?"

You snort, "I slept for hours, Steven. I think I'll be fine. You?"

"Same."

"Then that settles it," you stand, "We can head to the library. There's a fireplace there and it's very cozy."

"Lead the way, love," Steven says with a big grin and follows you, exuding excitement.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon boys x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader #marvel au #mob boss au #mafia au

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for-ests · 3 months

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Suffocation: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 (ao3) (wattpad)

Summary: Your brother's teacher takes you out to the bar, and a deal is made. And when you arrive back at his apartment, you realize your feelings may just be reciprocated. Wc: 5,513 Warnings: slight smut at the end

The noise, the chatter, and the peaceful ambiance of it all still failed to take your attention away from the sorcerer sitting across the table from you. One beer in and giddy off an electrifying buzz, he was still your focus.

You craved to know more about him and couldn't understand why. Even if he was captivating and refused your request to buy him a drink and bought all of your drinks instead, you were still on edge. Still defiant, still suspicious.

Maybe you weren't wrong in assuming he wanted more from you. Whether it was your abilities or your body, a part of you was willing to indulge in either. One was for your brother's future, and the other was for pleasure. Selfishness from either of you would undoubtedly bring destruction, so an agreement had to be made. But that was hasty. Regardless, you would make him writhe.

Was that normal? Was it normal for you to feel this way, to wish for more but also play the same game?

The bar was buzzing with countryside locals. Being a resident of Tokyo, you felt slightly out of place but were able to notice a few others who were also newcomers. Even if it was a Friday night, you were still surprised to see so many people inside the nameless bar Gojo brought you to.

You brought the second drink to your lips, indulging in the refreshing taste. The night was only starting, yet you were feeling a buzz. You were out of your element for sure, already flustered by arriving at an unfamiliar place with an incredibly attractive man.

The eyes of women on him and you were no distraction, only a nuisance.

"If you really think I can help Yuji, I accept." You shrugged.

"It's not just him you would be helping," Gojo assured, "You would help me too…" He paused, chewing on the inside of his lip with uncertainty. Would it be wise to tell you? His reasons were selfish. To discover such a unique and untouched cursed ability was a blessing in itself, and you were inexperienced and unaware of the target you would soon have on your back if you decided to work with him. He would keep you in the dark if you were any other person. That's what he usually did. But when you looked at him like this, with such curiosity and hope in your eyes, he could not hide the truth from you.

Instead, he wanted you to know everything. Not just about him but the entire world you had minimal information about.

You raised an eyebrow, placing your now-finished cocktail glass against the wooden table. The sound snapped him out of his daze, making him realize a few minutes had passed in silence. You hadn't interrupted him but instead watched him struggle internally, knowing he was battling with something to admit.

Gojo stared at you, thankfully through the shield of his blindfold, and absorbed your undying spirit. The same aura he felt in your younger brother. "I don't want to be selfish with you, but your cursed abilities are rare and can be beneficial to not just me, but others I don't trust."

"So you're saying—"

"I want you all to myself—" Gojo practically blurted, his eyes widening as he realized how it sounded. He recovered quickly, though, "You report only to me, and in return, I train you, make you stronger."

"I thought so." You leaned forward with a smug expression on your face. Internally, you relished his slip-ups but knew they came from a genuine place. All you wanted him to know was that you weren't as oblivious as you appeared.

"What?"

"I'm not an idiot, Gojo." You rested your chin in your hand, propped up by your elbow. "Why else would you be so interested in me?" You tilted your head to the bar, and then your eyes flickered down to the form-fit cashmere sweater you were wearing, purchased by him. "You're trying to butter me up for a proposal."

There were a lot of reasons why Gojo was interested in you. And he was staring at one of them— your plump, glossy lips turning into an all-knowing smirk. He didn't want to look lower at the way your jeans undoubtedly hugged your curves with little room for imagination, for it would make his intentions obvious. Even if you couldn't tell.

The white-haired sorcerer was only a man at the end of the day. Clearing his throat, he said, "It's dangerous, Y/N. What happened last night was nothing compared to what can happen. I may be the strongest, but I need you to be second when I'm gone. For the kids, for your brother."

"So I have to be with you, or something bad will happen to me?"

At a loss for words, Gojo almost stammered. Truthfully, you would never be able to comprehend all that could happen to you. You had a taste only the night before, but that came short of the possibilities. He had hardly figured out Yuji's future, and now he had to solve yours.

You were unprepared. You were not ready. A situation that Gojo failed to predict, possibly from your curse technique.

"The second you found out Yuji was your brother, your life would never be the same."

"I know." Your eyes darkened. Not just from the memories of the night before but also from instances of your past. When you hadn't been strong enough, when you were naive. "Thank you for being honest."

A moment passed in silence, and all you could do was take another sip of your cocktail. You were definitely way in over your head. You knew that, but it felt like you were destined to do this.

"I'm not trying to scare you. But I have to warn you." He frowned. "You don't have to stay here. The choice is yours. I can send you off somewhere that is safer, but you won't be able to see Yuji. There are some things even I can't do." Gojo paused. "A lot of people want Yuji dead. A lot of people want me even more dead."

Hearing that confession from the strongest man you encountered was more than enough to make you truly understand. Taking a breath in, you summoned your ability. Colors of grey swirled in your vision, but they were peaceful. Even if you couldn't see his soul, you knew he wasn't lying.

"I'm not leaving him," you whispered.

"I know. That would be the safer option if you were a regular human. But you're not. I can help you unlock more, too. Not just for others, but also yourself."

"I'll do it."

"Do you want to, though?" He responded with a more distressed tone. "I won't always be nice to you. I'm holding you to a higher standard than anyone else. The training will be rigorous, as you have a lot of catching up to do."

"We can figure something out," you said, leaning back against your chair to gain space. Gojo actually seemed worried for once, and you didn't know how to feel about it. Instead, your insecurities came forth. "But what if we find out I'm not what you thought I could be?"

"You are," Gojo said quickly. "You just have to want it more than anything."

Part of you was still unsure if he was referring to himself, not just the plan he was concocting. But when you stepped back from the more trivial things in life, this was what you wanted. What you had been craving for. The loneliness, the tightening of your throat whenever you pondered your purpose.

"I accept," you said, trying to focus on his face. Again, you were desperate to see his eyes. Maybe it was a habit, for you didn't have to pry into someone's soul to see their intentions. It was usually evident on the surface.

"Nobody else will know about you, until I want them to."

"I assume you know best, and will clarify later," you sighed. "You don't have to convince me. Being here feels right anyways…" You faltered again. "Listening to my intuition has never failed me. There's not a whole lot waiting for me back home anymore."

"Except?" he asked, taking a swig of his own beer.

"My job. That's about it," you replied. "They can always replace me."

"Doesn't seem like you were happy there anyways."

"It was good work…" you hesitated. "But not for someone like me."

Gojo didn't have to ask for details. The look in your eyes was enough, and so were the details you already provided. The gifts you had could not reach fruition in that environment. If you let them, you would be taking advantage of regular citizens. That was why he already admired you, because you refused to go down that path without otherworldly influences.

He told you about his own struggles, his own restrictions, his own concerns. Yet none of them deterred you. He seemed to care deeply about the younger generation, which solidified your acceptance into this life, past the more trivial aspects such as his appearance.

"You found me." He smirked. "Something better."

How was he able to execute something so cocky as something sweet? You inhaled, shaking your head to remove the blush threatening to grace your cheeks. How he talked to you, respectfully and in a complimentary manner, made it seem like he wanted more than just your abilities. And your heart wanted to explore that, too.

"To celebrate, I think you should buy something from the top shelf?" You tried to dare, but it came out more innocent and polite. There was no upper hand from either of you. It was an equal exchange, as both of you needed the other. You needed his knowledge, and he needed your power.

"Didn't think it was possible for you to be even hotter," Gojo chuckled, glancing at your lips, and then your hand. "What do you want?" He slid off his stool. "I can get you everything, too."

"Thank you," You replied smoothly, feeling the lingering in his eyes. Had he taken notice of your own? He was trying to gauge your reaction. Your body contradicted your words, and you knew it. You could feel the heat rising from your face and the lower parts of you unseen. Your ears burned. Was it normal to feel so attracted to him so quickly? One compliment from him, and you were a stuttering mess.

Inhaling sharply, you tried to shove those questions away. "What's your favorite? I haven't had the opportunity to try any of them," you admitted, but the excitement didn't disappear.

"Be right back." Gojo winked, the over-encumbered motion shifting his blindfold. "Just keep looking pretty for me."

For the next few hours you spent with him in that bar, you ruminated over his words. Trivia happened to be the event for that night, and the crowd grew in size, as did the noise. Your drunkenness did as well, and so did Gojo's. Both of you were incredibly relaxed, and as the winners were announced, he set his arm around your shoulders, both of you retreating to a more secluded part of the bar.

His half-embrace made you giggle, and you took the last sip of your drink, which was watered down at that point. The conversation between you and him had been endless, and you wished the night didn't have to end. But it was the last call.

"How ya feeling?" Gojo asked, tilting his head down to look at you. He was so close and unfiltered, and you could smell the scotch on his breath as it fanned down your neck. "Ready to go back?"

You needed to devise some excuse to make your night with him last longer. "I'm not drunk enough yet." You pouted.

Suddenly, you felt something hard press against your lower back. Gojo snickered as he revealed the chilled glass bottle. "Something for the road!"

"Did you steal that?" You whispered with a smile of disbelief.

"Maaayybbeee." He pressed his finger against your lips. "Don't tell anybody."

"I actually planned to tell everyone," you replied, giggling as Gojo ushered you outside. The rush of the night caused you to instinctively press into him for shelter. He towered over you, and you loved it.

He hummed in response. "Don't worry, I won't let you walk back."

And like the last time, you couldn't muster a reply before you were transported back to Jujutsu High.

The two of you stumbled into the common room. You collided against the doorframe with your first step, etching a startled whine to leave your mouth. But then you started to laugh, rubbing your forehead with an eye roll.

Those heavenly colors were still in the back of your mind. And you were having trouble distinguishing them from the man himself. This might very well be the first man you could not configure. Would that be the death of you?

Gojo laughed as well and held out his hand. "You alright?" He asked.

Glancing up at his smile, you felt warm. No, you were sober enough. Definitely feeling the liquor but ready to indulge. Hopefully, to get more information out of him.

Intertwining your fingers with his, you nodded. "Totally. Zero chance there will be a bruise tomorrow."

"It's only your third time teleporting?" He teased. "I think you're doing a great job."

"I better be," you huffed, glancing at the sofa beside you. The common room was comfortable enough. The students often used it with CDs, blankets, and games scattered around. Everything you needed was there. "A drink will certainly help."

You slumped against the couch with a groan, kicking off your shoes in the next movement. Gojo walked across the room and grabbed two glasses from the kitchenette.

Satoru let himself fall onto the couch beside you and immediately let out a satisfied groan. He closed his eyes and leaned against your side, putting one arm over you. You could feel his body heat warm your own. A few seconds passed like that.

"So," You began as he poured you a glass. "Movie or game?"

"The question game." He poured his own glass with a smile. "Unless you don't wanna know more about me?"

"Of course I do!" You rolled your eyes. He knew you were trying to be considerate. It was late, after all, and you'd been talking all night. But it felt so natural with him. "I just didn't know if you could handle more drinks." Your eyes glimmered teasingly as you took a gulp of the top-shelf whiskey.

"I can handle more," He assured, grinning after taking a sip. "If that's what it takes to spend more time with you." His tone was softer, and before you could respond, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You immediately blushed, blinking in surprise. It was no innocent kiss, and you knew it, which almost made you freeze. Did he really mean it? Were you crazy to enjoy it, let alone want more? But of course, your body spoke for you, and you leaned into Gojo's embrace. "You wanna get to know me?"

"Of course I do," He whispered, leaning up to your ear and speaking so that you physically shivered. He brushed your hair aside teasingly slow, before kissing the base of your neck. He heard your breath hitch and felt your body instinctively relax. "It is like that, huh?" He mumbled against your skin, inhaling the perfume he could smell in your hair all night. It was addicting, and he kissed your neck again, harder that time, teeth almost threatening to reveal.

"I was afraid I misread the situation," Gojo said, gaining the sense to pull his head back, realizing that the drunkenness was setting in quicker than he expected.

"You're just drunk!" You stuttered, feeling your skin burn even after he pulled away. He wasn't being fair. "How drunk are you?"

He laughed, leaning back against the couch again. "On a scale of one to ten?" He thought out loud. "Like… a six point five? Is that possible?"

"Teleporting here definitely zapped you."

He looked over at you, chuckling once more. "Not that it matters. What matters is…" He paused, a slight grin settling on his face. "What matters is that I enjoyed my time with you," He said, leaning closer to you, but plucking the glass from the table and downing it quickly.

"I hope I didn't scare you off… getting drunk and acting…" He trailed off and chuckled nervously.

"Kissing me?" You chuckled. "Yeah... we might have to talk about that."

Sheepishly turned back to you. "Yeah… yeah. Probably need to explain that a bit, huh?" He said with a teasing smile. The effects of the alcohol were definitely kicking in, as he was satirizing most of his words and loosening up. "Or we could just kiss more?"

Responding to his invigorating question, you innocently set your glass back on the coffee table. You took a silent, deep breath to calm your nerves, realizing that was what you wanted. Just for a minute, you would indulge.

And then, finally, Gojo gained the courage to close the previously insurmountable gap between you, mending his lips with yours so perfectly that your knees felt like buckling even though you were sitting. One of his hands moved down to grasp your waist, tugging you against him, desperate to taste you.

And you tasted as sweetly as he imagined. Gojo was addicted to one kiss alone and felt his heart cry out when you reciprocated and deepened the kiss, your smaller hands clawing at him with the same amount of need. He felt something that he hadn't felt in a long time, but even then, it was more, it was incomparable.

It scared him.

"Gojo…" You muttered against his lips, your heart beating rapidly and with so much desire you could hardly fathom the emotions racing through your head. He tasted just like the honey you thought he would, and you knew then that it would be the new drug you would seek for the rest of your life.

It scared you.

Granting you with one more passionate kiss, Gojo pulled his head back. Your eyes fluttered open, and you gave him a questioning stare, filled with the slight annoyance of not being able to read what he was feeling, too.

"Want more Princess?" He chuckled, leaning back in. The brush of his lips was enough to make your stomach flip. You closed your eyes and breathed in sharply, unable to fathom if you actually saw stars collide in the back of your mind, either a warning or a blessing.

He hesitated before kissing you again, seeming to contemplate the same feelings you had. Things were moving too fast, but it was addicting. And in the next breath, Gojo pulled you onto his lap, nipping the bottom of your lip as you adjusted and sank against him. His hands immediately snaked around your waist and held you against him tighter.

Desperate for more contact, your arms looped around his neck, your mouth parting to allow his tongue access, the taste of the expensive whiskey still lingering in his breath.

His touch, the position he put you in, and what you felt hardening underneath you was enough to etch a moan from you. And he relished in it. Calloused hands moved from your hips to scoop your ass, squeezing it gently. Testing the waters to see your reaction.

Gojo pulled back slightly, lips still grazing yours. "Doesn't take much to make you moan, huh?"

"Shut up," you whispered before kissing him again. Why couldn't you stop? Why did it feel so good? You'd kissed many men before and had meaningful relationships with them. But you were too intuitive for the average man.

This felt different. It felt like you already knew him, you were comfortable with him—that you would let him do whatever he wanted with you.

His lips were so soft, and his tongue kept you occupied while his hands debated to explore lower. The option was there; both of you knew it. It could be exhilarating.

Oh, how tempting you were. Gojo could hardly contain himself when you rocked against him, your skin burning with desire, your eyes fluttering when he moved his lips to your jawline, peppering sweet kisses and whispering under his breath. "Y/N…" he said, "You're teasing me…" He wanted to so badly, but he had to do it right.

"You're making it hard to say no…" you whimpered lustfully, as if you were under his spell, your neck tilting to allow him more access.

Lips almost touching your skin, Gojo stopped abruptly. The drunken smile faded, and he pulled away to look at you, face more somber. "Sorry…Do you not want to?" He whispered quietly.

Your own haze cleared when his predicted kisses never came. Processing his words, you furrowed your eyebrows. "Of course I want to. But its not cool to play with my feelings like this," you whispered, looking at him with a sudden softness. "I'm afraid we won't remember…" you trailed off, referring to the copious amount of liquor the both of you consumed.

Grin turning slightly bashful, Gojo took your hand and placed his lips on your palm. "How rude of you to assume that I would play with your feelings."

You blushed again, cherishing the way his lips felt against your palm. He turned your hand around and kissed the other side. The urgency that filled your makeout session was gone and instead replaced with a deeper yearning for something more.

"I've seemed to remember everything about you. What makes you think I wouldn't remember our first kiss?" Gojo grinned, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling you closer.

"I don't know…" You shrugged, grasping his hand as your eyes finally flickered back to his face.

God, how you wanted to look into his eyes. Everything was so uncertain when it came to him.

All you wanted was that confirmation. To honestly know that he was what you suspected.

"You're keeping secrets from me, and you're very good at distracting me from uncovering them."

Nodding slowly at your accusation, the blush on his face said more than his voice did; the way he'd treated you the whole night directly contradicted what you worried about. But that was what made you clever and all the more intriguing to him. Material things or convoluted promises couldn't sway you. What kept you close to him was the same feeling he'd been ruminating over, something unique and unexplainable.

"Your beauty can only get you so far with a man like me," Gojo whispered, resting his hands on your hips. "Time will give you the answers you need." Gojo knew you were used to knowing someone immediately, as that was the downside of your gift. Whether you wanted to know everything or not, you did. Even if it were selfish of him, he would make you wait just a little longer to tell if your commitment was palatable.

"And kissing me, giving gifts and compliments will only get you so far with a woman like me," You replied, setting your hands over his and lifting them from your waist.

They fell to his sides so abruptly that he paused, frowning as he gazed up at you. "You didn't like it?" His question was almost like a whine. He definitely knew the answer, though. Your words couldn't dispute the way your body moved against his own, so desperate and welcoming.

The look in your eyes was so tender, enough to make him understand why you so desperately wanted to see his.

"Would I still be in your lap?" You chuckled, rolling your eyes.

Gojo laughed from the sass you weren't afraid to give him. "Right, right," He sighed, resting his hands on your hips again, feeling your muscles relax. "I suppose that's true. But maybe I wanna hear you say it."

"Kissing you felt good."

He stayed silent for a moment, seeming unsatisfied. "Could you... say it again?"

"I loved kissing you, Satoru."

Gojo paused, his grip tightening around you, unsure how to respond. "That's not what I-" He stopped, face flushing more. "You loved kissing me...?"

So, that was something he was insecure about. Love. What a strange thing to not understand. You found it hard to believe that someone like him would not have it from everyone who came into contact with him.

"Should I not say what I felt?" You questioned with a smirk, one of your hands playing with his hair while the other reached for your glass so you could take another gulp. "You know that I'm not a liar," you teased.

Everything about you was so compelling to Gojo. He wanted you all to himself and felt blessed to spend this moment with you. A part of him felt jealous of any other man who had touched you in a similar way.

Sinking back into the couch, Gojo pulled you down with him. Somehow, the sofa was big enough for the both of you to lay almost side by side. Half of your body was still entirely pressed against Gojo, but he didn't seem to care. "You loved kissing me, hmm?" He repeated with a smirk, looking at you almost as though he was asking for confirmation.

Rolling your eyes again, you reached for a folded blanket and pulled it over the both of you. "You are ridiculous."

Humming with relief, Gojo shifted you closer, resting his head across your chest. Surprised at first, you almost froze. He was acting so satisfied with your presence and your simple actions. He was cuddling against you like you'd done it before, as if he also knew just how perfectly your body fit with his.

Tilting his head to look up at you, he gave you a cheeky grin. "You wouldn't mind if… I were to share the couch with you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Grin or not, he somehow looked earnest when he asked the question.

"I'm comfortable," you whispered with a smile, etching him to move into a more practical position. Face to face, his lips only an inch from yours. "I probably won't do this again, though."

"My bed next time then," He smirked, lifting his arm, snapping his fingers, and turning off all the lights. You and Gojo were both too lazy and drunk to bother getting up and retreating to your rooms. And, the innocence of cuddling on the couch was irrefutable.

Then he leaned forward and placed another kiss upon your lips. He pulled away quickly, though, before you could mend your lips with his. You felt like a child, yet welcomed it. With anyone else, you would feel indifferent and nervous. But laying on that uncomfortable couch beside the white-haired sorcerer made your heart beat faster. The last thing you would have ever predicted. No matter if it would come with a cost, you were glad to experience it.

"I don't know why I trust you, Y/N. But I do," Gojo whispered, "I hope you stick around."

There was still enough lighting from the flashing, muted television to see his face. He was still drunk, just like you, but the playfulness in his expression was gone and replaced with a somber longing you didn't think possible.

"Are drunk words really sober thoughts?" You teased even though you didn't want to. It was still a genuine question. There was no way he felt that way about you, felt the same otherworldly connection you did. "Do you actually mean that?"

He nodded, grinning. "Drunk words are sober thoughts for me," He insisted, chuckling. All you could do was gaze at him. Despite your distrust of anyone new, you felt the same. You wanted to trust him, rely on him, and know him more intimately than anyone else had.

Gojo paused, his grin fading as he continued. "I do, and I just can't stay away from you. It's just…" He took a deep breath. "It's embarrassing, you know?" He trailed off, and then he looked back at you. "Do you not feel the same way?" He asked suddenly, his expression one of hope.

Everything you wanted to tell him but couldn't find ways to express flooded your mind. It felt strange to be so overwhelmed by a stranger. Feeling so connected to him and configure your yearning was correct and welcomed. There was still so much to learn about him, and you had no doubt he wondered the same about you. But being there, laying with him on that old and stale couch, was enough.

Breath hitching, you pressed your lips back against his. You were blushing like crazy yet caved into what your heart and soul yearned for—him. "Yes Satoru," You muttered between kisses, hand reaching out to cup his cheek. "I feel the same."

Satoru's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden vulnerability. It was refreshing how easily you matched him and how you wanted more. He kissed you back enthusiastically, not wanting to stop. No woman had ever drawn him so profoundly as you had. No touch or kiss made his heart burst like you. Even just a reply from you satisfied him.

He would do anything for you, and it scared him. But maybe, just maybe, he deserved it. Of course, he was frightened to welcome you into his world, but for once, he knew you could handle it. You wanted to handle it; you were insistent. And that was what mattered.

What kind of man would he be to deny your destiny?

Time passed quickly while you two kissed, and soon, you broke apart, panting and out of breath. Gojo still grinned at you, with a light flush across his cheeks.

As the drunkness continued to fall away, Gojo seemed to be more and more himself. His confidence returned, and his infatuation did, too. "You've seemed to cast a spell on me," he whispered tauntingly. It took everything in him to keep his hands and thoughts at bay. You were not the type of woman he could play with. He was granted enough that night with your kisses and unfiltered confessions.

"You want me?" You asked, leaning into him, breathless from your second makeout session. You felt so comfortable in his embrace, wondering why he was able to vanquish all your nerves and worries. Why were you so quick to be honest with him? Your position with him, no matter the timing, felt so right. But still, you were afraid of the connection only being a one-time thing. It was hard to dispel the trauma you faced with men, and you were instinctively building those walls around your heart.

Satoru nodded, smiling. "How could I not?" He murmured, and then he leaned in and placed a kiss on your lips once more. Your eyes fluttered, and you sighed heavily when you pulled your head back.

He looked at you, the smile on his face finally fading. He was giddy, and it was adorable. But what was really on his mind was that no man had claimed you. With how beautiful you were, your intelligence, wittiness, energy, and strength. It baffled him. But in the back of his mind, maybe with your impending influence, was that you were meant to be his and his alone.

Perhaps you truly were made for him, to be there for his struggles and be able to understand.

You would be able to handle it. You wanted to be the one. Not just for him, but for the others he cared deeply for and couldn't express. The most perfect match that Gojo knew he didn't deserve.

But you, a woman who could shatter the boundaries of the mind he could not, did.

"You confuse me," He whispered, face flushing even more. Satoru was never one to be so vulnerable. To literally anyone else he'd ever known. But this was a special moment and a particular person. "You give me feel-"

"Feelings you've never experienced before?" You hummed lowly, curling into him further. "I'm confused too."

Gojo chuckled, and it vibrated through your entire body. You knew what he was trying to express, but it would ultimately be impossible at that moment. Knowing him for such a short time made you realize just how genuine he was. Somehow, unlike anyone else, you could understand, read, and know what he meant. You would welcome it with open arms, whether it was a blessing or a curse.

Hearing his heartbeat was enough. And reality started to slip away into nothingness. Peacefulness.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Gojo whispered.

The last thing you felt was his fingers combing through your hair. Wishing for him, to see all of him. What a blessing that would be. Gojo gave you safety and comfort. Every touch, every conversation, every look.

So, you cuddled against him, falling asleep to the beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, wondering what it would feel like to be his one and only, already suspecting that was meant to be.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen

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xzhdjsj · 2 months

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Tangled in Love

Andrew x Reader

Okay before you continue this, I wanted to let you know this fic mentions description of hair texture. The reader has wavy/curly hair! Additionally, this fic is a rewrite of part 6 of Andrew’s story.

+a lil rant before the actual fic (you can skip the first part but please read the second)

I wasn't going to post this because it's a self-indulgent piece but hey I’m sure someone out there will enjoy it too. I've struggled with my hair for quite a while. It was one of my biggest insecurities, and I never knew how to take care of it. For the majority of my life, I've treated my hair as though it was straight, using straight hair products and styles, because that's what I wanted my hair to be. I hated the 'frizz' which in actuality was just me damaging my curl pattern😭 Thankfully, even though I couldn't see it, the people around me did and helped me manage and properly care for my hair. These days, I embrace my curls, and I love them more than anything! If I'm not rocking my curly hair I feel incomplete, it's become a huge part of me! I still have a long way to go, but I'm beyond happy I was able to finally recognise how beautiful my hair is.

That being said, I want to remind all of you that YOU ARE PERFECT! I know we doubt and pick at ourselves from time to time, but it's important to remember THOSE DOUBTS DON'T DEFINE US! Every imperfection and flaw is what makes you perfectly, uniquely and most of all beautifully YOU. Please remember to be kind to yourself and never ever stop loving yourself ❤️

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It's been months since Andrew ended things with me. At first, I prided myself in being mature and acted like the entire thing never even happened. I stopped sitting where his eyes can easily find me, I never take similar routes as he would and avoided his office at all cost. It was easy to find a temporary tutor to help with my assessments, that way I didn't even need to attend his tutorials.

The less contact with him the better. This little routine was good and dandy, getting me by as I immersed myself completely in y work. If I distracted my mind, I wouldn't need to think of Andrew, right? Wrong.

So fucking wrong.

Every other thought, he was on my mind. I wondered how he'd answer questions on my exam preps, and his opinion on every sentence I wrote. I thought of him so much, it was sickening and before I knew it I was tired and relapsing.

I gave university my all until I couldn't anymore. I was heartbroken and ignoring my feelings only made them worst. They burdened my mind, and I spent nights upon nights crying my eyes swollen into my pillows. I knew I had to accept it somehow but the ghosts of him haunts me, even in my dreams.

Last night’s dream was an especially painful one. I vividly remember the look on his face and the way my heart shattered into a million pieces as he drove away that day. What a shit start to my day!

I rolled out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom where I splashed my face with cold water and looked into the mirror. What a mess, my hair was messy and unkept and not in and attractive, quirky way, more closely resembling a bird’s nest. I wonder if Andrew could ever love me even when I look like this.

I sigh, rubbing my temples and trying not to cry again. Maybe a nice long shower would help, so I did just that. I stayed under the running water for more than an hour, then detangled my hair before stepping out. It did help, at the very least I felt clean and refreshed.

Today was going to be more or less going to be simple, there was a single task posted on Moodle and that’s all I needed to get done.

I settled into a comfy set of clothes and started drying my hair, only to be interrupted by a knock on my door. Who could that be? I threw the towel over a chair and opened the door, and my eyes are met with the last person I wanted to see.

“Hi, I’m here to speak to you” His mouth is agape and he looks a bit shocked.

Speak to me? Here to speak to me? My mind roared. Absolutely not. I was about to slam the door in his face, but he steps forward.

“Only as a professor!” He clarifies. “May I please come in?”

“Fine, but make it quick.” I demanded.

He sighs, “Thank you.”

He steps inside and I lock the door behind him. A waft of his scent hitting my nose, God how I missed that.

“I've emailed you several times about booking a tutorial, whether that be online or in person, and I haven't heard anything back. Me being here is a last resort. It's part of my job to make my students are well, and that if they're struggling, I can point them in the right direction.” He paused, finally taking his eyes off me to look around. “You have a nice place. It's what I imagined it would look like.”

“That’s not why you’re here And- Mr. Marston.”

“Yes, strictly business it is then, though, I don't want to treat it as such.” His eyes are on me again, but I refuse to give him the same attention choosing to fidget with my fingers instead. “I'll try and keep things brief for the both of us. You've been attending as usual, on top of your work as usual and nothing on the surface warrants concern, but because this is around the time where I need to be updated on essay plans and what you intend to do, us talking to one another is inevitable and for your records, and my peace of mind, we must.”

“It’s going good.” I replied, monotoned.

“It’s going good? Is that’s all I get?” He pushes.

“It’s an update, is it not?”

“It's a different response. In the past when we had our tutorials, that went on for at least an hour, you were so passionate about your subject, you made your own reading list and clearly planned out your arguments. You talked me through every point and asked for my opinion just to be sure you couldn't look at it from any other angle because you were adamant about not just getting it right but understanding different perspectives. Tutorials are only supposed to last around half an hour. Why do you think I always put you in the last slot? The look you have when you lose yourself to your ideas, when your eyes spark with this clarity I never want to stop you mid-thought or let that light disappear.” He rants and I wish he’d stop describing me that way.

“First and foremost, I am your professor. I’m here to nurture your curiosity and always have you searching for answers so when you don't show up to your tutorials I get concerned.”

“But I attend classes and all my work is completed. Is that not enough?”

“Your work is fine but that's not the problem I-” He paused and sighs for the hundredth time, “I want to ask how you are.”

“Now you’re interested in that?”

“I never had the chance to and even if I did try to talk to you would you have answered?”

Well shit, he’s got me there. I stay quiet and stare at my feet.

“You've been avoiding me for over a month now and I completely understand why. It's enough that you're still going to classes and doing your work, and I can't imagine what you must be feeling having to be taught by me even now. For the pain I still give you, I am sorry. For the pain I gave you that day, I am sorry.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Is that why you’re here? To say sorry?”

“I didn't come here under the pretense of apologizing but… it's something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now. The rumours have died down but that doesn't change the thoughts people still have. It's not something that we should live with, but we must.” He regains his composure quickly, shifting the conversation back to university. “Anyway, care to tell me anything else about your essay? Any avenues you're thinking of exploring? Any reading material that's caught your eye?”

“What about you? Howe you Andrew?” I finally find his face with my eyes.

“I thought you wanted to keep this strictly business.” He uses my words against me. “Don't worry about me. I want you to focus on your studies.”

He smiles and it makes my heart skip a beat.

“Have you… Have you seen the petition?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it. I considered resigning and letting them win.” My eyes widen at his confession.

“Rumours can get out of hand quickly. Heh, never in my life did I think I’d be called such names. Now people think I let students get close to me to get good grades, no matter the gender. I’m a danger to all apparently.”

He sounds tired too, that’s one thing I can sympathise with him.

“The dean’s comment eased some of the backlash, but this is a burden I’ll most likely carry for the rest of my career.” He continued.

I stay quiet, unsure how to respond to him. I supposed we’ve both been hurting in our own ways.

“Can I be frank with you?” He catches my attention again and I look up from my thoughts. “I don’t regret any of it. It was one of the most honest decisions I’ve ever made. My only regret is not protecting you when it mattered and- and I’ll never be able to undo that.”

Fuck he always makes things so difficult for me.

“When I saw that video, and those comments I panicked. The first thing that came to my mind was how you’d feel reading them and how you’d continue knowing people thought of you that way. I know how that feels, something similar happened to me years ago. It hurts being ostracised and judged on lies and when you wade in that water you still have to hold your head up high, so you don’t drown. But thinking back I was irrational. I let my own fears get the better of me and made a decision that was not only mine to make. I… I should have spoken to you before driving you away. I’m not asking for your forgiveness or pity. I just need to let you know this.”

“So what now?”

“That’s a good question, I would say we continue as we are now, I only have your best interests at heart and that should be more important to me than my feelings for you.”

“You… you still have feelings for me?”

“Of course, I do! You think they just stopped? I tried burying them, stifling them, but every time you walked into my lectures it was impossible not to remember all the things we experience together.”

“Andrew look at me.” I shake my head. “I look awful, I’m a mess.”

“I disagree. You’re still as beautiful as the day I left you. If not, even more. Your hair, I- I’ve never seen it like that. It might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

My hair? I haven’t even straightened it like I always do. How could he find this beautiful?

“Still, you said it yourself, this could never work. Why would you-“

“I’m saying my heart wants to follow you again. Despite it all, I still want you.” He sounds so desperate, and I can feel my heart in my throat. “But this isn’t about what I want. It’s up to you. I you want nothing to do with me outside of university, so be it. If you want to give this a chance, a real chance, I’m fine with that too.”

“Andrew I-“

“You don’t need to give me an answer now, or at all actually. Just… do what you feel most comfortable with.”

That day I had a lot more to think of as I stood in front of my mirror once again. My hair was still unstraightened and a thought crossed my mind. I remember Andrew’s words before he left.

“I know I said it before, but your hair really does beautiful. I can’t quite get over it. It suits you.”

Maybe if I was going to give this another shot, it was time to start afresh. No more secrecy and sneaking around. I stare at my hair in the mirror. Maybe it did suit me and it wouldn’t hurt to try something new, would it?

Months later I feel so much better, the air is clearer, the sun is shining and I’m finally ready to talk to Andrew again.

I sat the window of the café I asked to meet at, looking over at the door each time the bell chimed. This time I was right, it was him. He spots me quickly and walks over.

“Hi, I know I’m a little early. May I sit?”

“Of course, please do” I urge him.

“I see you changed your hair. It looks really good.”

I run my fingers across the soft curls on my shoulder.

“Less of a change more of an embrace I’d say. I thought it was about time I stopped straightening it and wear my natural hair.”

“Not that you were any less beautiful before, but I find it harder to keep my eyes off you now.”

I smile. My cheeks are probably flushed, I can feel them all warm like the fuzzy feeling in my stomach.

“You know it’s very similar to my decision.” I tell him. “It’s another thing I want to embrace and flaunt to the world.”

“And I'll accept it no matter what it might be. So, what's your decision?”

My ass is off the chair in an instant, and I lean over the table to pull his face to mine. I missed kissing him, I missed kissing him so damn much.

#sorry for ze long rant #i just wanted to let you whos reading this know that I love you!#every part of you!#zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #andrew #andrew marston #hair is looking gorjus but my pockets hurt from buying hair products😭

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skayafair · 29 days

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Part 41

I finally got to listen to it!

Arthur has a lot of spite left in him sounding so pissed off screaming out Kayne's name, huh

And yet, knowing how he's not shy of swearing, all he can call John is a helpless "villain". Aw.

Oh, YOU GO JOHN! I support all your rights but more importantly your wrongs. I have no idea why John acting on his worst gives me such a kick every time but I properly enjoy and wholeheartedly support it ^_^

Also I liked the echo on "I'm trapped!". Reminded me of previous intances of him eldritching out. Morrrre~

Oh, I like the turn it's taking. John's lack of freedom, of agency is getting broadened in its scale, John doesn't compare it to a human's (who he wanted to be) one - but to a god's (who he was). Seems like the DW rattled quite a few memories and John had to stop running away from his past (I mean considering the supposed atrocities he had to commit there he was basically forced into his old self so it was kind of inevitable). Who you were isn't who you are and doesn't have to be your future self either but it's still in there, it still matters and has its fair share of influence. He had to face this and I'm glad that he seemed to do it.

I don't want to imagine what it should feel like to be in John's metaphorical shoes though. He used to be a god - and then lost all the agency completely and kept failing to regain it, time after time. First he ended up in the DW despite his intentions with no chance to escape on his own accord, then was yeeted into Arthur and failed to take all control, then he had a chance during the ritual but that chance flew out the window, too. In the end of that path he had to lose even the little amount of freedom he had, giving himself back to the King. Frankly I think returning to the King could actually be a chance to take over - John managed to rival him in his will, after all, so who knows - maybe he could win, too. However, Kayne yanked him out and back into the DW, making him basically a slave yet again. Returning to Arthur should have felt heaveny at the very beginning, there even were moments of his own actions and achievements, like with cutting the tendrils. And yet this is still far from being free, being his own, even with the deal out of the picture. It should feel like a torture to have a living, independent mind and be unable to act on its will. No wonder he's a bit drunk on the opportunity to finally have some range of options.

Also now his attempt to kill Oscar that seemed very contradicting to his latter values and behaviour looks actually natural. Just out of the DW, with a reviewed perspective and confused about in what direction to head next, old instincts refreshed and most likely habitual again (if it was even possible - I mean what form did he have in the DW to even be able to do anything?) - no wonder in the moment of intense emotional turmoil he fell back to those old ways without much thinking. Still very bad but at least explainable now. Also it looks like John isn't sure he wants to be human now. Hmmm, I like this direction, too. The experience will stay anyway, he'll have the understanding, and that's important.

"I don’t know. But stop turning that frustration towards me." Wow, Arthur, A+ for the ability to articulate what exactly you want and are discontent with! Communication, yaaay!

I like how they arrived from defensive opposing positions to shedding the defences off and coming to an understanding, still managing to vent the emotions off in the process. Hey I want this level of the skill!

"Why wait? - Nothing. I thought I… it’s nothing. - You’re sure? - Yes." Uuuuugrh. High time to learn that's a bad way of addressing the suspicions, boys *sigh*

"How did it… feel? - It felt… powerful. - Hm." This whole conversaton of theirs, especially coupled with the overall situation, really reminds me of the very beginning of season two. Fresh of the portal in an unknown surroundings, under the rain, talking about John's bad choices and things Arthur postpones to talk about ("The deal with Kayne… - In a moment."), only the last time John didn't let him. I guess now he feels too rattled himself.

The owl. Ow. I'll get to my eldritch owls AU, I promise! (Also, Alexander?! In what way is it comfortable?.. It means "the defender", so well maybe, but still - ehhh?..)

"This world could be very different than what we expect." - ooohhh, will they meet dragons?! *__* Hardy, I know, but the possibility is still thrilling.

*John describes the surroundings* I've been to just one DnD session but the shift in the perspective cannot be undone. Is that how you guys have been seeing the whole setting all along???

"Look, we can’t afford to be at odds here, John. Not anymore." Oh. I like the place they are at dynamic-wise. By now they've long established they want to be friends - trying to be as best as they can. No one has an upper hand, unlike in previous seasons. Season 1 os obvious, season 2 - John still knew more about the world they found themselves in than Arthur and hid some things, the relationship was still very rocky. In s3 Arthur had an upper hand at the very least emotionally-wise. Season 4 - John's turn again. Now thought they've come to some pretty good communication and know each other well enough, there's trust (despite everyting), and both are about equally in the dark. There's the "John's crimes in the DW" bit still looming over them but both are aware of it, which helps to some degree.

Meaning - more or less (John still has little agency, although it's a bit better now) equal partnership. YAY. I'm excited.

"It is time to grow up, in every sense of the word." Ahhh. There it is. I have to say it's been bugging me the whole time but I couldn't enunciate what exactly and with what grounds. The thing is, I distaste the way a person lacking in one field is being constantly compared to a child overall. This infantilization happens not only in Malevolent. It's often brought into other stories - the most recent one I came across was Resident Alien TV series. Often enough the said field is the emotional and the social one. You know who else is often infantillized the same way with similar issues? Neurodivergent people - I think autistic ones more frequently but I didn't look into the statistics (if they exist), that's just what I've heard of the most. I know I've been referred to in a patronizing way both by some friends and relatives just because I don't get things obvious to them but unseen to me (and half of those things makes no fucking sense even when you learn about them). John is far from being a child, his lack of knowledge and understanding, of experience lays in very concrete fields.

So the constant comparison to a "parent-child" dynamic is irritating to me when it's simply a "more experienced in one or two ways person & a less experienced in said ways person". Yes those fields are very important. Still, there are things John knows of and Arthur doesn't, but I don't recall anyone comparing our dear detective to a child back in Dreamlands, for instance. John knew how dangerous it was out there and was more coutious, had some memories and knowledge about some things existing there and got frustrated with Arthur's attempts to befriend everything around more than once. From this point of view, Arthur behaved "childishly" and lacked crucial experience John sort of had (even though it was mostly forgotten), while social skills and emotional intelligence meant next to nothing (save for once instance).

So can we please cut this tendency of sustainably comparing adults to children because they aren't as well-versed in one or two fields as others.

"There was so much I couldn’t explain, because you weren’t able to know where I had come from. But now… with you knowing, perhaps…" Oh shit THEY CAN FINALLY TALK EVERYTHING OUT clearly yaaaaay! I forgot! Looking forward to this.

Also John's very quiet for the most of the episode, as if he's afraid to say another word, like moving across a mine field. Very uncertain in any way, like he doesn't trust himself.

Aaaaand Arthur confirms his title of a disney princess trying to befriend every creature he meets once again! Thanks for addressing this in canon! =D

I like how the podcast is consistent with the fact that John has sense of smell but it's not as developed as Arthur's.

Damn it's so wierd to hear John at loss of words, and so often, too.

"You really started to master your investigative ways, you know?" I like how John sounds so lost for the majotiry of the episode, but once there's an opportunity to fall into a familiar process of the investigation, his tone immediately changes to a lighter, more confident one. There's comfort in it. And Arthur noticed this and paused to give a friendly praise. It's important after all the forgetfulness in New York, and judging by John's reaction he appreciated this, too. It's something to hold on to, like "I still have it, we've got this, it can still be okay".

Wow Arthur's filling the bingo card starting right from the very 1st episode! Falling yet another ladder are we :D Now there's rather a bad injury, too, and they didn't even meet any monsters yet :DDD Arhtur has certainly stepped up his game!

"No… no, nothing. - Is it the wall?" Arthur is really acing the whole friendship thing the whole episode. He took notice of how unsure John is of everything now and made this extra effort to help, to support.

Yay the glass is back in the game! I llike that they decided to revise the bag contents.

"Kayne’s dagger. - Frustratingly useful." Yay the humor this apisode is certainly humoring! =D

Three black candles, in the 13th century, right. That screams "ritual", guuuuys where is your cautiousness!

I like how this episode took its time and didn't skip over some "mechanics" like the podcast usually does. There are more directions from John (THANKS), more pondering over what to do and which way (the torch, the dagger and tracing the way along the wall), the sense of smell, the way the cloak kept the water from soaking through - these little details are what does the trick to me. What gives more quality to the story and the way it's told.

The membrain, ew. Arthur's been holding exceprionally well, honeslty.

Ah, I finally found the word to how John sounds for the most of the episode. Defeated, even in situations when he would have had other emotions before. "The Undefeated" title considered, this is extra sad.

A recurring thing of the episode is that they find themselves in the darkness and John can't see. I think it adds considerably to his feeling of being powerless. It often sounds like he's giving up.

"No. But we’re close to the surface!" And someone said he's going to be properly done with all the pits like two seasons ago :< (I don't really remember when it was exactly so maybe less but the notion still stands.)

So. The hole in the wall was a mouth with teeth, wasn't it?

#malevolent podcast #malevolent spoilers #malevolent #john malevolent #arthur lester #john doe malevolent

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silv3rswirls · 1 year

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grin and bear it

Warnings: Mentioned stalking and violence, fear, reader is yandere, Tae is some kind of otherworldly being or something.

Note: I wrote this in like 20 minutes and I'm obsessed with it. I wanna make another part of this but spicier 👁👄👁 maybe? I also have something with similar vibes planned with Namjoon I might post tomorrow, we’ll see

“Why do you run? Do you really think you can outrun me? Darling, you’re no match for me.”

Your door had slammed closed in the face of that eerie, distant voice. All you could hear was your own shaky breath as you tried to shake off the mad dash you had made for your apartment. Your trembling hands rose again to double-check the locks, no real comfort befalling you as you stepped away. You sniffle, wiping the budding tears from your eyes and taking one, then two steps away from the door.

“Baby, you can’t hide from me.”

You froze, eyes glued to the floor as you tried to ignore the voice. The pale light of the moon shone in from your drawn curtains; casting your shadow before you, as well as someone else's.

A tall, black frame loomed over your own.

“What’s wrong? Where’d your bite go, baby? Bear your fangs like the animal you feign to be.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave me alone!” You pleaded, hands coming to cover your eyes as the shadow over you loomed closer.

“Why are you acting so frightened? This is your idea of love, isn’t it?” You tense at the feeling of the man placing his hands on your shoulders. “Look at me” he ordered, a hand moving to clasp around your wrist and pulling a hand away from your face. You open your eyes, wincing at the sight of him.

“How did you get in here,” you ask, stomach-turning. You lived on the third story, the windows were still closed and the door locked.

“Come on, I can feel the guilt weighing on you. You know why I’m here, just admit it.” He listens to the seconds pass in silence, you watch his eye twitch just slightly. He wets his lips and smiles, bearing his fangs. “You’re pathetic, you can’t even say it, should I refresh your memory?” He scoffs, “you loved him so much, didn’t you? So much so, no one else could have him?” He hummed, stepping closer, “that’s why you followed him everywhere you could, stalking the poor boy every second of every day. Don’t even get me started on his new girlfriend, how nasty of you to do what you did. All in the name of love, right?”

Your bottom lip trembled, and your stare grew hard on him. “How do you know that,” you ask.

“I know everything, and so much more.”

It was true; what he claimed you to have done. You weren’t sure why you did it, the rejection just snapped something inside of you. You had never been the most noticeable or desirable, always the kind one to be rejected in the face of something better. And he had found something better in her. Such a rage had bubbled up inside you, you couldn’t help the stalking, the harassing, or the threatening. You just had to make him see how much you loved him.

“You almost killed her, and when she lay there begging for help you just watched and smiled.” He mimicked a kind smile, “bearing your fangs and playing predator.”

“She deserved it” you choked out, stepping back as he took another step toward you.

“Is that shame?” He asked, his dark eyes bearing into you. “guilt is admission.” He tilts his head “and admission serves punishment.”

“You’re one of her friends? Family? Here to make me pay for what I did?”

“I assure you I’m no friend to anyone, but I can promise you punishment.”

A small whimper escapes your throat, and you make a dash to hide in your bedroom, moving to slam the door close only to find it swung back open. He’s still standing in the living room, you can see his frame bathed in shadow and moon. “Not so fun when you’re the one being preyed on?” He quipped, slowly turning, his eyes shining in the dark. For a moment he looks different; a flash of inhumanity takes him. You see twisted horns and pointed claws, the budding spikes of feather protruding his back. He’s no man, you tremble. Is this how they felt when you came before them with wrath? “You were playing predator, but look at you now. So scared when the same is done to you; falling over yourself to try and run. You feigned toughness well, but in the end, you’re just a scared little girl hurting for a happy ending that doesn’t belong to her.”

“You want someone to love you?” You don’t hear any footsteps, suddenly he’s beside you once again. His voice was smooth and thick, “I love you, darling.” His hand is cold against your face as he tilts it to look at him again. “I love you so much, I don’t think I can stand to see anyone else in your life. I think I’ll kill them really.” His voice mocks your own words. His arms wrap around you and force you against his body. He leans to your level, far too close for comfort. You feel his breath on your face, your eyes lost in the endless back of his. He grins, punishment should reflect the action.

“I’ll be around” he whispers, “don’t make me jealous, or you might regret it” He smiles with his teeth again and you close your eyes in fear he’d close in and attack you. “Just grin and bare it, I promise, you’ll come to love me.”

You open your eyes and he’s disappeared.

Taglist: @aris-ink

#bts x reader #bts imagine #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #yandere taehyung x reader #yandere bts x reader

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saltydumplings · 2 years

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What about a hero who is accustomed to suppression self restraint who's finally reached their limit with hero work (lack of appreciation, overworked, sleep deprived, so on), who finally says "fuck all this, I'm done, I wanna be a villain's pet;" all to the great delight of the villain who's been flirting with them for months.

Bonus points if the hero's severely touch starved.

Request #16

Cw: suggestive. Though it actually turned out low-key really wholesome, lmao.

The villain's hands had been twitching over the button all morning. They were sat in the back of an inconspicuous van, watching surveillance footage of an alleyway just a little ways down from them - eyes staring at the screen intently as they waited.

The hero always took this route.

Sure, their patrol paths changed each week but this was the one constant between them. The villain knew it well: they'd spent months studying the other's patterns. Months digging into every little detail they could find - all things from the way in which they liked to fight to how they took their coffee; the measurements of their uniform and the growing list of villains they'd defeated... And now it was time to finally put that information to good use.

A few minutes passed and the villain found themself fiddling with the item in their pocket, their left leg bouncing up and down excitedly as they continued to wait - patience not generally being their strong suit but in this case they were sure it would be well rewarded. Or, at least, they hoped it would be.

Their eyes flickered over to the time on their watch and then back again.

They tried to remind themself that this was their first true attempt at catching the other - that if it didn't go to plan then it would only make their next attempt even stronger. But they wanted it to go to plan. They wanted it to work - had spent months researching to make sure that it did work or...well, actually the research was more for after it worked... which it would.

It would.

They checked the time on their watch again, frowning at the fact the hero still hadn't made an appearance yet.

Did they get it wrong? No, they couldn't have: they'd surveyed this alley all week and the hero had come down it every day without fault. Was another villain delaying them - perhaps they got sidetracked.

Or perhaps the villain really should have spent less time fantasising about what they'd do with the hero once they'd caught them, and spent more time focusing on the actual catching them part...

They eyed the button in front of them with a newfound uncertainty, wondering now whether they should have gone with something a little more complex. But a cage was classic: it was easy, affordable and good for transport. Not to mention the hero would look absolutely delectable behind bars.

It was kind of obvious though.

Actually, all the hero had to do was look up and the whole plan would be ruined.

It'll be ruined anyway if they don't even show up, the villain thought mournfully, taking note of the time once more before unlocking their phone - doing a quick browse of the local news. As far as they could tell, no fights involving the hero had been reported. They continued to scroll down, seeing if anything had arisen earlier without their knowledge but nothing was coming up. They refreshed the page, half expecting something to appear when a flash of movement caught their eye - their gaze darting up to stare at the camera footage and nearly dropping their phone in the sudden fit of excitement that seized them.

The hero was in the alleyway.

They were there - right there - just a few steps away from where the villain needed them to be.

The villain quickly deposited their phone off to the side, hands hovering over the button as their focus remained transfixed on the screen.

Yes, just a little further. Yes, yes - so close!

They watched as the hero moved forwards, clearly not a clue in the world as to what was about to happen.

Yes, a little more - that's it, almost there. Just four tiny steps away - yes, yes! - one, two...

The hero looked up.

They stopped.

NOOOOOO!

The villain internally cursed themself - what the hell had they been thinking?! Stupid cage. Stupid, obvious plan; stupid hero looking up and seeing the damn thing; stupid, stupid, stupid--

They groaned in exasperation, hands retreating away from the button to instead cover their face as the defeat hit them in waves.

They wanted it so badly... Wanted the hero so, so badly.

They glanced back up towards the screen, eyes scanning wistfully over the hero's frame as they stood beneath the villain's trap before they turned back to the rest of the van, figuring they'd better start packing up before--

Wait.

The villain rushed to turn back around, the sight of the hero standing exactly where they needed them almost making them giddy. Were they dreaming? Was - was this real? They slammed their hand down upon the button, watching as the cage dropped down to entrap the other - the hero not even trying to move aside as the bars blocked all ways of escape. The villain could hardly believe it - they caught them! They caught the hero, they did it, they caught them, they caught them!

They threw open the van's doors and scrambled out, all but running to the alleyway and squealing with delight at what they saw, making to run down it when--

Was this a trap?

Suddenly they forced themself to a halt, eyeing the other before them suspiciously. The hero had seen the cage, right? The villain had watched them look up - had thought for sure their plans had been foiled and yet...

They took a tentative step closer, head cocking to the side as they examined the hero within their trap: they were sat upon the ground, resting their head in one hand whilst the other tapped idly against the bars. They seemed...tired? Burnt out, even.

The villain's excitement turned to slight concern, closing the final bit of distance between them and soon coming to look down upon the other.

"Hero?" they asked.

The hero simply hummed, not bothering to turn their gaze upwards.

"You...you saw that this was a trap, right?"

"Yes," the hero said.

The villain frowned. "Then why step into it?"

At this, the hero sighed as they came to stare up at them, gaze weary as they regarded the villain with a look that was almost pleading. "Because," they said, "I need a holiday...if that's alright with you."

"You - you need a holiday?" the villain parroted.

"Yeah, and I, um, I already used up all my a-annual leave so..."

The villain blinked. "So you came to me?"

The hero blushed a little and the villain's eyes widened at the sight, a little of their excitement starting to return at the implication.

"Well, y-yeah," the hero said. "I-I mean you're always talking about, y-you know, and I just thought that - if I couldn't have a legal holiday then..."

"You consider being kidnapped by me a holiday?"

Oh, the hero was adorable - the villain had never seen them so shy before and they were revelling in it. Usually the other was so conserved when they fought, barely letting anything slip whenever the villain made their comments but here, now, they were like an open book, ready for the villain to read from.

Willingly.

The hero had come to them willingly - the villain could have danced: this was better than any plan they could have ever conjured!

The red tint covering the hero's cheeks seemed to darken slightly, their gaze flitting away for a moment. "On holidays you're meant to, um, enjoy yourself, right? Well, last time we spoke, you said that y-you would...spoil me. I-If you caught me which, now, you have."

The villain nodded eagerly, hands itching to touch the other as they leant down a little, wanting to get closer.

"Oh, Hero, I'll give you everything," they said, perhaps a little too quickly. They reigned themself back a bit - trying not to show too much of their excitement as they cleared their throat. "I-In return for good behaviour, of course," they added.

The hero huffed a laugh - the more confident side of them that the villain was well acquainted with starting to seep back through. "Villain, I'm a hero: good behaviour is kind of my thing."

"Then you won't have a problem getting on your knees for me?"

The villain had meant it as a command but it ended up coming out as a question instead. As much as they wanted this - oh, how they wanted this - they were still trying to play it somewhat carefully: they didn't want to scare the hero away, especially when it seemed the other was trusting them to give them the escape they clearly needed.

They held their breath, waiting to see what the other would do.

And the hero did not disappoint.

In seconds, the hero shifted their position, moving up a little and readjusting their legs so they were kneeling - their hands clasped neatly in their lap as their blush showed fully. Their gaze focused down to the floor and the villain dared to reach a hand through the bars, catching the hero's chin and softly tilting their head back a bit. The movement was smooth - the hero putting up no resistance whatsoever - and as soon as they met the villain's eyes the scene was perfect.

So completely, utterly, perfect - the hero was so perfect; so obedient, so cute, so completely theirs...

The villain couldn't help the delighted squeal of excitement that escaped their throat: they could dance, they could sing! Oh, it was all better than they could have ever dreamed, they were finally getting a pet - getting the hero as their pet, yes, yes, yes--

They cleared their throat, trying to get their mood to sober a little when they caught the hero smiling at them - an amused curl tugging up the corners of their lips. The hero wasn't meant to be amused, they were meant to be scared damnit! Well, not scared scared - the good kind of scared: suspense. Anticipation.

"G-Good," the villain said, ignoring the knowing look in the hero's eyes and trying to get back on track. "That's good - very good."

Their hand came up to stroke through the hero's hair, the other's amusement waning slightly as they shivered under the soft touch - practically melting. The villain used it to their advantage immediately, making sure to remind the hero exactly who was in charge here before they got any smart ideas.

"Now," they said, "just how long did you plan on this little holiday being?"

The hero bit their lip, hands fidgetting in their lap as they thought. "N-No longer than two weeks, I think."

The villain smiled. "Make it three."

"What? No! I have interviews coming up at the end of next month, the hero agency needs--"

"Hero, love, either you make it three or I'll make it four." The villain's hand came to a halt and gripped the hero's hair instead, just barely tugging at it in warning. It was nowhere near enough to hurt but certainly enough to get their point across.

A few seconds of silence passed between them, the hero pouting a little but their blush told the villain all they needed to know. They tightened their hold just the tiniest bit more - heart fluttering at the small sound that escaped the hero's throat.

"F-Fine," the hero said eventually. "Three weeks - b-but no more!"

The villain grinned and let go, revelling in the way the hero almost seemed to chase after their touch - their eyes practically fixed onto the villain's hand as it retreated back through the bars.

Oh yes, perfect - so perfect!

"We'll see about that..." they said. "You never know: perhaps after three weeks you'll want to stay."

The hero huffed. "I think it would take a lot of spoiling on your part," they replied.

"Well then, it's a good thing you didn't manage to catch me when I robbed the bank last month, isn't it?" the villain said with a small hum, knowing they'd won when the hero simply glared a little in response. They took a moment just to look the other over once more, eyes scanning up and down with an intensity that was almost feverish before they prepared to turn away. "Now, you just sit there and look pretty while I fetch the van - it's just around the corner, I'll barely be a minute so--"

"Villain?"

They'd started walking back up the alley but they quickly turned back, spying the hero looking at them with that same knowing smile from before.

"Yes?" they asked, somewhat anxiously.

The hero couldn't possibly change their mind now...could they?

The hero cocked their head to the side slightly, the manner of their voice taking on a more playful tone. "You know, you're allowed to be excited about this, right?"

The villain flushed a little, trying not to let their embarrassment show as they snapped out a reply. "O-Of course I know that!"

"Good," the hero said. Their hands came to rest upon the bars, legs moving to shuffle just a little closer. "You, um, you're cute when you're excited..."

A pause.

The villain could hardly find the words to speak so they didn't, simply turning back and all but sprinting down the alley and out of sight, rushing to fish the van keys from their pocket and get the hero back to their lair as soon as possible. If they happened to twirl around a lamppost or two on their way there then what of it?

The hero was right - they were allowed to be excited - but they'd be damned if they let the other know it.

#writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain #hero x villain #hero #villain

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lemonpils · 4 months

Text

A Smile Long Forgotten - Blade & Kafka

Authors note; i legit haven't seen anything from this pairing and its CRIMINAL, so heres some fluff between these two!!

Summary; Blades Mara struck is acting up again, and Kafka finds out a fun little piece of information whilst trying to heal him.

It hurts so bad.

It burns. It aches.

Everything felt like pins and needles, in the worst way possible.

It was late, later then he'd usually be up. But he couldn't sleep, not one bit. He tossed and turned, watching out the window of the Stellaron Hunter's ship as he lied awake. It stings.

It stings so bad.

It was reaching that time again, where the tall dark haired man would have to seek out the help of his magenta haired acquaintance. Where he would have to show weakness, admitting that he needed assistance with his health. But it was something he had grown accustom to doing, and it was something that he had grown more comfortable to as well. He sat up from his bed, pushing the hair from his face. He looked towards his door, and noticed light coming from the bottom.

"She's... Still awake." He thought.

As he pulled himself from bed, he brushed his hair out from his face, finger combing the more intense knots out. He slipped on a black t-shirt, and quietly opened his bedroom door as he walked down the hall. Kafka was sitting on the couch of the ships lounge room, a glass of wine in hand as she read a small article. Blades footsteps we're noticed as she turned her head, a small smile adorning her face.

"Ah, Bladie."

It hurts so bad.

His voice quivered. "Kafka, I-"

My bodies on fire.

"Something caught your tongue?" She spoke.

It feels like I'm dying.

"Kafka, help me, please."

As blade let out those four words, she knew exactly what the situation was. She nodded, gently pulling him down to her. She was seated at the end of the couch, making sure there was room for him. Her hands laid his head on her lap as his body laid across the rest of the couch. Blades pained expression only made Kafka's heart hurt more, seeing her friend in such torment. "Just close your eyes, you know the drill." She said softly. Blade nodded, letting his eyes close like he always did. Followed by feeling Kafka's icy delicate hands begin to caress his face, torso, and wherever else she needed to touch. This was the part of the healing that was so difficult, having to feel her hands all over him. It wasn't that he didnt like it, he'd just never had someone touch him in this way. He groaned as she used her abilities, softening the leathality of the Mara Stuck with only her hands. Kafka was always so gentle with this process, she knew exactly what felt best, and what worked more efficiently. She dragged her fingers along his collar bones, practically pulling the pain right out from him. "Mmm..." He murmured. "That must feel better, hmm?" She spoke sweetly, as she continued to focus around his neck.

Blade nodded, he could feel the pain being relieved, and how it was replaced with a warm and refreshing feeling instead. He could also feel another sensation, an odd one- One of Kafka's nails had gently scratched along the shell of his ear, making his head twitch. "Oh? Did I miss a spot?" Kafka's fingers reached Blade's ear, and began caressing along it gently. She thought he reacted out of pain, that he needed some more healing in that specific area. She was wrong. At the moment, Blade was having a really difficult time holding in whatever reaction he was feeling. It was tingly, but not painfully so. He had the urge to- giggle. It was quite strange, it was almost as if he was ticklish. ... He is, so very ticklish. "K-Kafka... Stop." "I know it hurts Blade, but we're almost done." She said innocently. He could feel a smile tugging at his lips. "N-No thats not what I mehean..." Kafka froze, did he just giggle? She tilted her head, placing her fingers along that same spot on his neck as she watched him almost squirm away from her touch. Ah, I see. She thought. Her fingers curled against his skin, watched as he gasped out. "A-Ah! Kafka-" He grumbled, he then realized that she had caught on to what was occurring, and that he needed a way out fast. "Now then Bladie." She said with a smirk. "Kafka don't you dare-"

"Dont, move." She said using her ability.

As her words hit Blade's ears, he felt his limps come to a stop. He felt as her power took over him, that he was now immobile on Kafka's lap, great. "Bladie, why didn't you tell me you we're so... sensitive?" She said as she tweaked Blades side. "MhHf- I'm not." He said dryly. Kafka only smiled, she held her hands in front of his face, slowly bringing them to his ribs. "Time to run a test then, eh?" She giggled. Blade felt ten fingers beginning to knead against his ribs, feeling her nails scratch and skittering along. Which caused a miracle of a sound to emerge from Blade's mouth. "Bahahah! K-Kafka! Unhahand me!" He demanded through his giggles. Kafka let out an Awwwe~ Before raking her nails into his ribs once more, watching as Blade's smiley face cried out in sweet giggly laughter. "I dont think I will, not yet at least. I'm enjoying this pretty little view." She teased. Blade whined through his giggles, how dare she make a fool out of him! The way she cooed at his little noises, it was so belittling! But it was also kind of, nice..? No no, that cant be right. "Kahahafkahaha!" "Yes Bladie?" "Enohohough!" He pleaded. "Nah, Im good." Her smile turned to a smirk, as she used her nails to spider along his toned stomach. That really got him going. "NOOhoAHA! Nohohohoo! STOP!" His stomach was a lot more sensitive, she realized. His laughter got more frantic as she inched closer to that sweet spot in the middle. "Uh oh, looks like someone is in trouble~" Her voice teased at his ears. "YoHohOu're sUhuch ahAHa pahAHAin!" He could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and how they began staining his pink tinted cheeks. "Hmm, I could be much more of a pain if you'd like." "NooHAhOHO!" He exclaimed. This was odd, Blades face was quite warm. He felt- fuzzy inside, like he was enjoying the playful attention from her. He hasn't felt this in a long, long time. "Here I cooome~" Kafka began tracing her nails towards his bellybutton, watching as Blade grew more nervous. "Dohohn't- nohoho..." He whined. "Aaaaand, gotcha." Her nail began to swirl along the inside of his belly button.

Blade would then burst out into heavy laughter, tears streaming down his face. "PFFTEAHAHAA! NOHOAHA! KAHAFKA!" He screamed. Kafka only smiled, playfully giggling as she teased his belly button. "Aww~ Is someone ticklish here?" Blade only nodded as he laughed, screaming in ticklish agony as he suffered under her touch. "NOHOHO MORE! NOHOHO MOHOHORE!" Blade begged, he was growing ever so tired, and Kafka took notice to that as she slowed down. "Alright, alright. Shh, I'm stopping." She said softly, releasing his limbs as she combed his hair out of his face. He huffed and puffed, she had sure worn him out. He sat up, leaving her lap. "You- are a handful." He groaned, pulling his shirt back down over his stomach. She could see the tints of blush across his cheeks, and she chuckled to herself. "Oh relax, I was just having some fun. I haven't seen that smile in a while." That was true, Blade couldn't remember the last time he had smiled like that, let alone laughed like that. It was, a pleasant feeling.

"Yea, sure. Thank you for healing me, now- goodnight." He quickly paced back to his room, hands rubbing at his eyes. "Have a goodnight Bladie~" She teased. He made his way down the hall, passing by Silverwolf in the process. "Sounded like you two had fun." She said. "Shut up." He shot back.

It was safe to say, he was probably going to go back for some 'healing' sooner than later.

#tickle #tickle fic #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fic #honkai star rail tickle #lee! blade #ler! kafka

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