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paddockletters · 1 day

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chihiro | trent alexander-arnold

request:Can you please write something for Trent inspired by chihiro something angst when Trent becomes distant toward the reader (gf or wife ) and less attentive . But she still gives him all of her but soon realizes that it breaks her, and it breaks her more because he hasn't realized pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader summary: You find yourself in a heart-wrenching struggle as Trent pulls away, leaving you to question your worth. Despite your devotion, his distance shatters your spirit. As you confront the painful truth, a life-changing decision awaits, forcing you to choose between love and self-preservation. warnings: angst, gaslighting author's note: i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you liked it, ... Well, as I always say... english is not my first language so sorry me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

I’ve been feeling it for a while now—the distance, the way Trent pulls away without even realizing it. At first, I thought it was just me being too sensitive, that maybe I was expecting too much. But as the days went on, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. He was no longer the person who used to look at me like I was his entire world. Now, it felt like I was just... there.

I remember the early days, the way he used to hold me so tight, like he was afraid I’d disappear. I’d catch him staring at me with that boyish smile of his, and he’d say, "What? Can’t I look at my girl?" I’d laugh and tell him he was ridiculous, but I loved it. I loved the way he made me feel seen, loved, important. That version of Trent feels like a distant memory now.

Now? Now he barely looks at me.

The other night, I tried to talk to him—really talk. I had been holding it in for too long, trying to give him space, hoping he’d notice on his own that something was wrong. But he didn’t. So, I brought it up, carefully, not wanting to start a fight.

"Trent," I said, sitting on the couch while he scrolled through his phone, "I feel like we’re not… us anymore."

He glanced up, brow furrowing for a moment before looking back at his screen. "What do you mean?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just… I miss you. I miss how we used to be. Lately, it feels like you’re a million miles away, even when you’re sitting right next to me."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I’ve been busy. You know that."

"I know, but…" I hesitated. "It’s more than that, Trent. I feel like I’m losing you, and I don’t know how to fix it."

His response was so simple, so dismissive. "You’re overthinking it."

Overthinking it. That’s what he said. And maybe I was, but it didn’t change the fact that I felt like I was pouring everything I had into this relationship while he was barely giving me scraps in return.

I gave him a small, sad smile, hoping it would break through his detachment. "I’m not trying to push you away, I just want… I just want us to be close again."

Trent shifted uncomfortably, clearly not in the mood for a deep conversation. "We’re fine. I don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of this."

The silence that followed his words was suffocating. I remember how my chest tightened, and I had to fight back the tears threatening to spill over. Why couldn’t he see it? Why couldn’t he see that I was breaking right in front of him?

There was a time he would come home, exhausted from training, and still find the energy to cuddle up with me on the couch, kissing my forehead, telling me about his day. I remember one evening after a tough match, he had pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me, and whispered, "You’re the best part of my day, you know that?"

But those days feel like they belong to a different lifetime now.

Another night, I cooked his favorite meal, hoping it would spark something between us—bring him back to me. He came home late, as usual, tired and distracted. He barely glanced at the dinner I’d spent hours preparing.

"Thanks," he muttered, barely looking at the table. He grabbed a plate and sat down, eyes glued to the TV, like I wasn’t even there.

I sat across from him, pushing my food around my plate, trying to find the courage to say something, but the words died in my throat. It wasn’t just that he was distant; it was like I had become invisible to him.

When did it get this bad? I wondered, feeling a heaviness in my chest. The love I had for him was still there, burning painfully bright, but it was slowly killing me to keep holding on when he wasn’t holding on to me.

And then came the night it all fell apart.

I couldn’t sleep. I had spent hours lying next to him, staring at the ceiling, my heart aching with the weight of everything left unsaid. I needed to say something, to make him understand, but I didn’t know how.

I slipped out of bed and went to the living room, sitting in the dark, hugging my knees to my chest. I must have been there for a while because, at some point, Trent came out, rubbing his eyes.

"Why are you out here?" His voice was groggy, but there was no concern in it. Just exhaustion.

I looked up at him, tears already spilling down my cheeks. "I can’t do this anymore, Trent."

He frowned, confused. "Do what?"

"This." I gestured between us. "Us. Whatever this has become. I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay when I’m not. I’m breaking, Trent, and you don’t even see it."

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "What do you want me to say? I’m doing the best I can."

"But your best isn’t enough anymore," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I’ve given you everything—my love, my time, my heart—and I’m still left feeling like I’m not enough. Like I’m the only one fighting for us."

He sat down across from me, sighing heavily. "I don’t know what you want from me."

"I want you to care," I said, my voice breaking. "I want you to look at me the way you used to. I want to feel like I matter to you again."

There was a long silence. I stared at him, hoping—praying—that he would say something, anything, to make me feel like I hadn’t lost him completely. But all he did was look away, rubbing his face in frustration.

And that was it. That was the moment I knew. He didn’t have it in him anymore, and I couldn’t keep pouring my love into someone who wasn’t willing to do the same.

"I love you," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "But I can’t keep hurting like this."

He looked at me, his eyes finally softening, but it was too late. "I don’t want to lose you."

I smiled sadly through my tears. "You already have."

That night, after Trent and I sat in silence, I knew it wasn’t just a phase. It wasn’t going to change overnight or even at all. The weight of it all was too much, and I didn’t know how to carry it anymore. My hands were shaking as I reached for my phone, scrolling through my contacts. I needed to talk to someone—someone who might understand.

My thumb hovered over my best friend's name, Jess. I hadn’t told her much about what had been going on, mainly because I didn’t want to admit how bad things were. But now, it was like the dam had broken, and I needed to get it all out.

I hit call.

She picked up after a couple of rings, her voice groggy. "Hey, what’s up? It’s late, everything okay?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to steady my voice. "Not really."

Her tone shifted instantly, becoming more alert. "What happened? Is it Trent?"

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. "Yeah. I just… I don’t know what to do anymore, Jess. It’s like I don’t exist to him. I love him so much, but I feel like I’m losing myself in the process of holding on to him."

There was a pause on the other end. Jess wasn’t one to sugarcoat things, but she also wasn’t the type to push unless I was ready.

"Has he said anything about how he feels? Have you guys talked?" she asked cautiously.

"We tried. Well, I tried. It’s like he doesn’t even see the problem. He keeps saying I’m overthinking it, that I’m making a big deal out of nothing. But it’s not nothing, Jess. It’s killing me."

There was another silence, and then she let out a deep sigh. "Babe, you deserve someone who sees you, who cares enough to put in the effort. I know you love him, but if he’s not giving you anything to hold on to, what are you supposed to do?"

I leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "I don’t know. I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I want to believe things will get better, but he’s so... distant. Like he’s already gone, and I’m the only one holding on."

Jess’s voice softened. "Have you thought about what would happen if you walked away?"

My breath caught in my throat. I had thought about it—many times. But actually doing it? The idea felt like ripping my own heart out. "Yeah. I’ve thought about it. But I don’t know if I’m strong enough to let him go."

“You are. You’re stronger than you think,” she said firmly. “But don’t make any decisions until you’re sure. Give it some time, see if he changes. But if he doesn’t... you deserve better, and you know that.”

The next day, I found myself dialing a number I hadn’t used in a while—Trent’s mom. She and I had always gotten along, and part of me wondered if she could help, if maybe she’d seen this side of him before.

"Hello?" Her warm, familiar voice answered, and for a moment, I felt a little less alone.

"Hey, it’s me," I said quietly.

"Oh, sweetheart, it’s so good to hear from you! How are you?"

I hesitated, my voice catching in my throat. "Not great, to be honest."

She paused, clearly sensing the heaviness in my tone. "Is everything okay with you and Trent?"

I let out a shaky breath, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilling over. "I don’t know. I feel like I’ve lost him. He’s been so distant, and I don’t know how to reach him. I don’t know what to do anymore."

She was silent for a moment, and then she sighed. "I’m so sorry, love. I’ve noticed he’s been a bit off lately, but I didn’t want to interfere. You know how he is—sometimes he gets so wrapped up in his own world that he doesn’t realize how it affects the people around him."

"Yeah," I whispered, wiping my eyes. "But I feel like I’m breaking, and he doesn’t even see it."

“Have you told him this? Really told him?” she asked gently.

"I tried. I told him how I felt, but he just brushes it off, like I’m overreacting."

There was a long pause before she spoke again, her voice soft. "I know he loves you. He may not show it the way you need right now, but I know he does. But if he’s not making you feel loved, if he’s not making you feel like you matter, you have to think about what’s best for you. You can’t keep giving and giving until there’s nothing left of yourself."

Her words hit me like a punch to the chest because they were the truth I hadn’t wanted to face. I couldn’t keep pouring everything I had into Trent if he wasn’t willing to meet me halfway.

"I don’t know what to do," I admitted, my voice breaking. "I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t keep living like this."

"No one can tell you what to do, love. Only you know what’s right for you. But whatever you decide, you deserve to be happy. Don’t settle for less than that."

That night, after talking to Trent’s mom, I lay in bed next to him, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on my chest. The silence between us was louder than ever, and for the first time, I wondered if this was how it was always going to be. If I was going to spend the rest of my life feeling like a ghost in my own relationship.

I thought back to the last time we’d had a real conversation—weeks ago, maybe more. I had asked for space, told him I needed some time to clear my head, to figure things out for myself. I had been so overwhelmed by everything then, but I thought that maybe stepping away, even for a little while, would make me feel better.

"I need to be alone for a bit," I had said quietly, standing in the doorway of our bedroom, my hand still gripping the edge of the doorframe.

He’d looked at me, his face unreadable, but nodded. "Take your time."

It had been a relief at first. I had gone for a long walk, let my thoughts run wild as I tried to make sense of what had been happening between us. I’d told myself that once I came back, we could figure things out, rebuild what had been crumbling.

But when I returned that night, the house had felt different. Colder. Like something essential had disappeared. And Trent… he wasn’t there in the way I needed him to be. Physically, yes, he was there. But emotionally, mentally? It was like he had already checked out. I had walked back into the same room, into the same life, but somehow, I was the one who felt lost.

Now, as I lay beside him, I could still feel that same emptiness between us. I rolled over, my back to him, blinking back tears as I whispered, "I miss you."

He didn’t respond. I don’t even think he heard me.

And that’s when I knew—I had taken a break, hoping to come back to something familiar, something that we could still fix. But instead, I had returned to someone who was already gone.

Weeks passed after that night. The silence between us only grew, consuming every corner of our relationship. I kept hoping—foolishly—that maybe something would change, that Trent would look at me the way he used to, or that he would finally notice the cracks that had been widening for months. But nothing came. No words, no apologies, no acknowledgment of the distance that had turned us from lovers into strangers.

One morning, I woke up and knew. It was like the weight of everything had finally sunk deep enough for me to let go. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep waiting for him to realize how much this was breaking me. So, I packed my things in silence. The room felt eerily calm, like it knew what was coming before I did.

Trent was at training, and for the first time, I was glad he wasn’t there. I didn’t have the strength to explain myself again, to beg for him to see me, to see us—the version of us that once existed. I left him a note on the bed, my hand trembling as I wrote the words that had been festering inside me for weeks.

"I can’t do this anymore. I gave you everything I had, but somewhere along the way, you stopped giving me anything back. I love you, Trent, but I love myself too much to keep breaking for someone who doesn’t even realize I’m shattered. Take care of yourself. Goodbye."

I walked out the door, my chest tight with pain, but for the first time in months, there was also a small sense of relief. I hadn’t felt this light in ages, even if it was paired with heartbreak. The hardest part was over. I was leaving.

"I guess this is it," I had said, my voice barely a whisper.

Now, weeks later, I sat in my new apartment, staring out the window as the city buzzed below. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe. The space around me was mine, filled with my own choices, my own life. But the ache in my chest was still there, lingering like a bruise that hadn’t quite healed.

It took time—too much time—but I finally realized something that had been staring me in the face all along. I had been waiting for him to notice me, to care enough to fight for us, but Trent had already made his choice. He’d been gone long before I ever walked out that door.

And now, after everything, I was the one who was finally gone. And for the first time in weeks, I realized… I wasn’t going to come back.

Then, one evening, while scrolling through my phone, I saw a text from a number I almost didn’t recognize anymore. It was Trent.

"I didn’t realize until now. You were gone, and I didn’t even notice. I’m sorry… for everything."

I stared at the message for a long time, feeling the tears pool in my eyes, but I didn’t reply. Because now, it was too late.

He had finally realized. But I was already gone.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #trent alexander arnold smut #trent alexander arnold imagine #football imagines #requests #trent alexander arnold one shot #footballer imagine

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emjayewrites · 1 day

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Sakura Dreams 🌸 🇯🇵 🗼Jules Kounde (3/6)

SYNOPSIS: It was supposed to be a guys' trip to Japan after a disappointing ending to Euros, however, fate had another thing in mind.

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x fem!blackOC (Ayo Pratt) (faceclaim @/joie.ade)

WARNINGS: cursing, poor google translations, football b.s & drama, flirty!jules, eventual smut. MINORS DNI!!!

TAGLIST: @hopefulromantic1 @lettersofgold @sinflowersugar @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @perfecttrashface @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @leilaxaliel @serpenttines-library @certifiedlesbianbaddie @niahxo @julescpu @jack0357 @chaoticcoffeequeen @greedyjudge2 @yeea-nah @saturnville @taytropicana @trentswrld @cranberryjulce @vile-harlot @2serenity0 @elyseesarchive @peaceiswonderful

A/N: Jules was in Japan, so of course I had to make a short series about it. Also, if you're a Jules girl, please let me know and I'll tag you in more chapters.

accordingtoayo • posted on their story 4 hours ago

story comments:

jkeey4:🚆⏩⛩️

nikkigal: ♥️♥️♥️

symonenotbiles: kyoto here we come!

Ayo shifted in her seat as the bullet train hurtled toward Kyoto, the sprawling countryside blurring into streaks of green and gray. The cool air inside the train was a sharp contrast to the heat that had been rising between her and Jules, especially last night. She stared out the window, but her mind was miles away, replaying the events of the night before.

She couldn’t help but wonder—what would have happened if Symone hadn’t gotten sick? Would she have stayed with Jules on the dance floor, let him pull her closer, tighter? Would she have followed him back to his room, let the heat between them finally boil over?

Ayo shifted again. It’s been awhile since she’d been with anyone, and there’s only so much her vibrator could do. Jules had been so close, his hands on her waist, his breath hot against her ear. She’d felt the hardness of his body pressed against hers and the slow, deliberate grind of his hips, like he was daring her to give in.

But then her friends needed her, and just like that, the moment evaporated. As she looked back at him on the dance floor, left alone and frustrated, she felt something she wasn’t used to—regret.

Across the aisle, Jules was deep in conversation with Wilhelm, his laughter cutting through the quiet murmur of the train. He glanced over at her, and their eyes met for just a second. There it was again—that flutter in her chest that made her both excited and anxious.

Last night had felt like a step forward, but just like that, they’d taken two steps back. Jules wanted her, that much was clear. But she wasn’t sure if she was ready to let him in. She usually enjoyed the chase, but this time… she wondered if he was getting tired of the back and forth, or worse, maybe she was.

"You good, Ayo?" Symone's voice cut through her thoughts. You've been staring at that window like it holds the secrets of the universe."

Ayo rolled her eyes. "I'm fine. Just... thinking."

"About a certain French hottie?" Symone waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Shut up," Ayo muttered, but she couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

"So," Nikki leaned over the back of her seat. "What's the plan for Kyoto? Please tell me we're hitting up some hot springs. Mama needs to soak."

Ayo chuckled, grateful for the distraction. "I think there's an onsen near our hotel. We can check it out."

As the group buzzed with excitement, Ayo felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned, her heart skipping when she turned around and saw Jules sitting behind her seat. His expression was softer, more serious than before.

"Hey," he said quietly, as if the words were just for her. "I was thinking… maybe we could explore Kyoto together tonight. Just the two of us."

His offer hung in the air between them. Ayo hesitated for a moment, her heart racing. She could feel her defenses rising, the excuses forming on her lips. But there was something in the way he looked at her—like he was waiting for her to let him in.

"Yeah," she said finally, her voice softer than she intended. "I’d like that."

As the train pulled into Kyoto Station, Ayo felt a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling up inside her. The group gathered their belongings, chattering excitedly about their plans for the ancient city.

"Okay, so who's ready to go to some hot springs?" Gigi asked, practically bouncing as they made their way off the train.

Ayo hefted her bag onto her shoulder, stealing a glance at Jules. He was helping Nikki with her oversized suitcase, his muscles flexing under his t-shirt. She quickly looked away, cursing herself for acting like a horny teenager.

______________________________________________________

The bus ride to the hotel was filled with lighthearted chatter, the group's excitement palpable as they discussed their plans for Kyoto. Ayo found herself stealing glances at Jules, enjoying the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

Their hotel was a beautiful blend of traditional ryokan and modern luxury. The girls' suite was spacious, with sliding paper doors and a view of a serene garden. Meanwhile, the boys were staying at a different hotel just down the street.

As they settled in, she quickly changed out of her travel clothes, opting for a cute midi dress that showed off her curves without being too obvious.

Gigi noticed her primping in the bathroom and raised an eyebrow. "Ooh, someone's getting dolled up. Hot date?"

"Jules and I are going to explore a bit in an hour," Ayo mentioned casually to Gigi as she put on her lipgloss.

Gigi's eyes lit up. "Oh really?" she said, a hint of mischief in her voice. Before Ayo could respond, Gigi opened her big mouth and spilled the beans to the others.

Symone grinned mischievously as she made her way into the bathroom with Nikki hot on her heels. "Girl, are you finally gonna let that man show you his Eiffel Tower?"

Ayo rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. "We're just going sightseeing, you perv."

"Uh-huh," Nikki chimed in. "Sightseeing. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Laughing, Ayo threw a bag of cotton balls at her friends. "Y'all are too much. Besides, Symone, if you hadn't gotten sick last night..."

Symone held up her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, don't blame me for unintentionally cockblocking. I'm just glad I'm feeling better to enjoy all this. 'Bout time you gonna let ol' boy hit. Lord knows it's been a while since you had Grade-A dick anyways."

"'Cuz you definitely wasn't getting it from Jamaal," Gigi quipped.

"Forreal," Nikki added with a disapproving frown. "Ol' two-pump-chump headass."

Ayo snorted, grabbing her perfume. "And you would know, huh?"

"Damn right 'cuz you told all of us!" Nikki said, winking. "But seriously, don’t act like you weren’t ready to take Jules home last night. Your eyes were screaming, ‘get me out of here.’ If it weren’t for SySy hugging that toilet bowl, you would’ve been out with him, sis."

Ayo couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, okay, I’ll admit—maybe. But you know I’m not that easy."

"Girl, ain't nothing wrong with getting what you need. Shit, I'm doing it myself with AK." Gigi said.

Nikki pointed at Ayo’s dress with a knowing look. "She didn’t put that on just to sightsee. You tryna get dicked down, don't lie."

Ayo rolled her eyes, a warmth creeping up her cheeks. "It’s just a dress. Can’t I look good for myself?"

"Sure," Symone drawled, smirking. "But if Jules doesn’t hit tonight, I’m gonna be disappointed in both of y’all."

Nikki chuckled, "Yeah, Jules ain't the type to play the long game forever. You might just find out tonight what that man’s working with."

Ayo sighed but smiled to herself, her nerves mixed with excitement. Her friends were right; she had been ready to go home with Jules last night before everything derailed. But she wasn’t sure what she’d have done if they’d made it back to his room. It had been a while since she’d been with someone, and despite her flirtations, Ayo wasn’t used to letting someone get this close.

"Well, no matter what happens, at least I know y’all will be nosy as hell about it," Ayo teased.

"You already know," Symone laughed. "Now go get yours, girl."

Just as the teasing died down, there was a knock at the door. Ayo glanced at the time—it had to be Jules. She took one last look in the mirror, fluffed her hair, and grabbed her purse. Time to see where tonight would lead.

Ayo took a deep breath as she approached the door, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She opened it to find Jules standing there, looking handsome in a casual button-down shirt and jeans.

His eyes lit up when he saw her. "Wow, Ayo," he said, his voice warm. "You look amazing. That dress, your hair - everything."

Ayo felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself."

Jules's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer. "I really like your hair like this. The way it frames your face - it's beautiful."

Ayo smiled, feeling her nerves melt away as she looked up at him, her head touching her top knot unconsciously. "Thank you. Ready to go?"

Jules nodded, stepping back so she could join him in the hallway. As they started walking toward the lobby, she could feel the teasing gaze of her friends burning into her back, but she ignored them. Tonight was about her and Jules.

As they left the hotel, the gentle evening air of Kyoto enveloped them. The city's blend of ancient traditions and modern life created a magical atmosphere.

"So, where to first?" Ayo asked, falling into step beside Jules.

"I thought we could start with a walk along the Philosopher's Path," Jules suggested. "Then maybe we could grab something to eat. How does that sound?"

Ayo smiled. "Sounds perfect. I’m excited to see Kyoto like this."

Jules gave her another lingering look before nodding. "Yeah, me too."

They walked in comfortable silence at first, the sounds of the city buzzing around them as they made their way down the narrow streets. Every now and then, their arms brushed against each other, sending little sparks up Ayo’s spine.

As they passed through the old wooden buildings and paper lanterns lining the streets, Jules broke the silence. "You know, I was thinking... about last night."

Ayo felt a twinge of nervousness. She turned her head slightly, meeting his eyes. "Yeah?"

Jules nodded, looking thoughtful. "I just— I was really hoping we’d get more time to talk, you know? It felt like we were starting to get somewhere, and then..."

"Symone got sick," Ayo finished, a soft smile on her lips. "Yeah, I know. I was thinking about that too."

He looked at her closely, his eyes searching hers. "And? Where do you think we were heading?"

Ayo paused, biting her bottom lip as they continued walking. She had asked herself the same question earlier—what would’ve happened if she hadn’t had to leave? "I don’t know," she admitted quietly. "But I guess we’ll find out."

Jules’s eyes darkened slightly, his lips curving into a slow smile. "I like the sound of that."

They continued walking, the conversation flowing easily between them as they explored the streets of Kyoto. The soft glow of lanterns illuminated their path, and the air was filled with the scent of cherry blossoms and street food. Ayo felt her nerves fading as she became more comfortable with Jules, the teasing, the shared smiles—it all felt natural, as if they’d known each other much longer than just a few days.

Eventually, they found themselves at a small, tucked-away restaurant. Jules led her inside, and they sat across from each other in a cozy booth. Over bowls of steaming ramen and shared appetizers, the conversation continued to flow effortlessly.

"So," Jules said, between bites of gyoza, "tell me more about your modeling. How did you get started?"

Ayo smiled, twirling her chopsticks in her ramen. "It's kind of a funny story, actually..." She paused, wondering how much to share. "I was discovered at a McDonald's, of all places."

Jules raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "McDonald's? Were you the new face of Big Macs or something?"

Ayo snorted, nearly choking on her noodles. "God, no. I was just there with my friends after class, probably looking a hot mess, when this woman approached me."

"A hot mess in McDonald's? Sounds like my kind of night," Jules teased.

Ayo rolled her eyes, but couldn't help grinning. "Anyway, she handed me her card and said I had 'the look.' I thought it was a scam at first."

"To be fair, 'you have the look' does sound like a creepy pickup line," Jules mused.

"Right?" Ayo laughed. "But it turned out to be legit. Next thing I knew, I was doing local shoots, then New York Fashion Week, and now..." She gestured vaguely. "Here I am, eating ramen in Kyoto."

Jules's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Quite the upgrade from McDonald's, I'd say."

Ayo felt a warmth spread through her chest. "What about you?" she asked, trying to keep her cool. "How'd you end up in sports?"

Jules's expression turned thoughtful. "It was always the plan, I guess, but I never thought it could actually be reality."

Ayo's eyebrows shot up. "Why? What changed?"

Jules shrugged, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "Luck, I guess. Sports became my path when I was a teenager and I got lucky..."

Ayo leaned in, intrigued. "You're being pretty vague about this whole sports thing. What exactly do you do?"

Jules grinned mischievously. "I kick balls for a living."

"Come on," Ayo pressed, playfully narrowing her eyes. "Don't make me Google you."

Jules held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I play football professionally."

"Premier League pro?" Ayo asked, impressed. "Are you on FIFA?"

Jules chuckled. "Not quite. It's La Liga... same but different. La Liga is the top Spanish league, while Premier League is English. Both are top-tier, just different countries."

Ayo nodded, processing this information. "So you're kind of a big deal, huh?"

"I do alright," Jules said with a modest shrug, but his eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Mmhmm," she said, tilting her head to the side. "Enough to buy a Rolex? Seems better than alright to me."

Jules chuckled, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "You caught me. I guess I'm doing better than just alright."

Ayo leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. "So, Mr. Big Shot, what's it like? Playing in front of thousands of people, being recognized on the street?"

Jules paused, considering his words carefully. "It's... intense. Exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. One moment you're on top of the world, the next you're public enemy number one because of a missed pass."

"Sounds stressful," Ayo mused, stirring her ramen thoughtfully.

"It can be," Jules admitted. "But there's nothing like the rush of a good game, you know? It's addictive."

Ayo nodded, understanding the feeling. "I get that. It's like when I'm on the runway. Everything else just... fades away."

"Exactly," Jules said, his eyes lighting up. "So, tell me about your most memorable show. Any wardrobe malfunctions I should know about?"

Ayo groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "Oh God, don't even get me started..."

Jules nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "Alright, well let's try this then. Favorite fashion show?"

Ayo's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's easy. Milan Fashion Week. It was my first time modeling internationally, being flown out and everything. There's something about being flown out, you know?"

Jules leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Maybe I'll have to fly you out to Barcelona sometime."

"Barcelona?" Ayo raised an eyebrow. "Is that where you live?"Jules nodded, and Ayo furrowed her brow. "I thought you lived in France?"

"For the summer, yeah. For the Euros," Jules explained, then noticed Ayo's confused look. "It's a major international football tournament," he added with a chuckle.

Ayo nodded, processing this information. "Barcelona, huh? Have you ever met Messi?" she asked jokingly.

Jules replied casually, "Yeah, he's a nice guy actually." Ayo's eyes widened in surprise, and Jules couldn't help but laugh. "It's crazy," he said, shaking his head in amusement. "You barely know anything about football, but you know Messi?"

Ayo shrugged, a sheepish smile on her face. "I only know minor things about football, mostly from conversations or social media. And it usually revolves around Beckham and Messi."

Jules pondered this for several beats, his expression thoughtful. Finally, he grinned. "Could be worse, I suppose. At least you didn't mention Ronaldo."

Ayo found herself increasingly drawn to Jules's charm and wit. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to see his world, to visit Barcelona and experience the excitement of a match day. But she quickly pushed the thought aside. This was just a vacation fling, wasn't it? No need to get ahead of herself.

After dinner, they wandered back through the quiet streets, their steps slower now, more deliberate. The tension between them had shifted—it wasn’t nervous or awkward anymore, but something charged, filled with unspoken potential.

Finally, as they reached the front of her hotel, Jules turned to her. "So... I’m picking you up for the temples tomorrow?"

Ayo smiled, nodding. "Yeah. I’m looking forward to it."

Her heart raced a little faster, but she wasn’t quite ready for the night to end. Jules was still standing there, hands in his pockets, looking at her with that relaxed, half-smiling expression that made her stomach flutter. Before she could think too hard about it, the words spilled out.

"Are you tired, Jules?"

Jules blinked, a bit taken aback. "What?"

"Are you tired?" Ayo clarified, her voice low and playful. "You know, sleepy?"

He tilted his head, catching onto her vibe. "Not really. Why, what’s up?"

Ayo glanced down the street toward his hotel, then back at him, her lip caught between her teeth in thought. She took a small step closer, her confidence building. "Well... I was thinking, maybe I could see where you're staying?"

Jules raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You wanna see my hotel?"

Ayo gave a playful shrug. "Yeah. I mean, if it’s cool with you. I’ve heard good things," she teased, biting back a smile.

His eyes gleamed with interest, and without hesitation, he slipped his hand to the small of her back, his touch warm and grounding. "Say less."

They walked together, heading toward his hotel just down the street. The energy between them shifted, the anticipation building. Ayo felt a mix of excitement and nervousness bubble up inside her, but she squared her shoulders, determined not to let it show. Jules walked a little closer to her now, his hand remaining at her back as they made their way down the softly lit street.

When they arrived at his hotel, the difference was obvious. While her hotel leaned into the traditional Japanese aesthetic, Jules's was sleek and modern, with sharp lines and glass walls.

"Okay, I admit it," Ayo said as they stepped through the automatic doors. "This is pretty nice."

Jules smirked. "Told you."

They made their way to the elevator, and Jules tapped the button for his floor. As they ascended, Ayo’s nerves stirred again. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was getting herself into, but the steady pressure of his hand on her back kept her grounded. When they stepped out of the elevator and started walking down the hall to his suite, Jules suddenly paused, his hand dropping from her back.

"Hold up," he said with a grin. "Let me check if any of the guys are here."

Ayo nodded as he slipped inside. She waited outside the door, her heart beating a little faster now. A few minutes passed before Jules’s head poked back out, a mischievous grin on his face.

"All clear."

She followed him inside, the door clicking shut behind her. Jules’s suite was spacious and modern, much like the hotel itself. The view of the city stretched out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, but it was the cozy, dim lighting that made it feel more intimate.

Ayo wandered into the room, pretending to take in the view but acutely aware of Jules standing behind her. She could feel his presence, the warmth of him, and when she turned, their eyes locked. The unspoken tension between them thickened, both of them knowing this moment had been building for days.

Jules stepped closer, his eyes scanning her face as if waiting for a sign. "You know," he said softly, "I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now."

Before Ayo could respond, he cupped her face gently in his hands and leaned down, his lips brushing hers. The kiss was slow at first, soft, testing. But then, something shifted. His lips pressed more firmly against hers, and Ayo melted into him, her hands sliding up his chest. She kissed him back with a kind of urgency she hadn’t realized she’d been holding onto, her body pressing closer to his as the kiss deepened.

Jules’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers curling into the fabric of her dress. The warmth of his body, the taste of him—it was like everything else in the world fell away, leaving only this moment. Her pulse quickened as she tilted her head, giving him better access, her lips parting as their tongues met. The kiss was intoxicating, a mix of heat and tenderness that made her knees weak.

He groaned softly against her mouth, and that sound sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel the tension in his body, the way his hands gripped her a little tighter, like he was barely holding back. Ayo responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer still. Every brush of their lips, every shared breath felt electric, and when they finally pulled back, both of them were breathless.

Ayo stared up at him, her heart racing, her lips tingling from the intensity of it all. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the same hunger she felt coursing through her.

"Still not tired?" she whispered, her voice teasing but breathless.

"Not even close," Jules chuckled softly, his forehead resting against hers for a moment. "You wanna see my room?"

Ayo’s heart raced, but she couldn’t deny the pull between them, the magnetic energy that had been simmering since they first locked eyes in Tokyo. "Yeah," she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with desire.

Without another word, Jules took her hand and led her down the short hallway to his bedroom. The door clicked shut behind them, and the atmosphere shifted. His room was minimalist, sleek and modern like the rest of the hotel, but none of that mattered as he turned to face her again, this time with a hunger in his eyes that made Ayo’s breath hitch.

Jules stepped closer, cupping her face with one hand while the other rested at her waist. He leaned in slowly, capturing her lips again, this time with more urgency. The kiss deepened, both of them melting into each other, tongues exploring, breaths mingling. Ayo felt his hands glide down her back, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush against each other.

The bed was just a few steps away, and with a gentle push, Ayo felt the cool sheets against her skin as they tumbled onto it. Jules hovered over her, his weight pressing down just enough to make her feel enveloped, safe, yet electrified with desire. He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring every moment as his hands moved from her waist to the hem of her dress.

Ayo arched into him, her fingers slipping under his shirt, feeling the taut muscles of his back. One by one, their clothes began to disappear, discarded onto the floor in a blur of motion.

Jules' lips were back on Ayo’s, soft but insistent, his hand cupping her cheek while his other roamed her body. As they kissed, he shifted them both until Ayo lay beneath him, his weight pressing into her just enough to make her feel wanted—claimed even.

He pulled away for a moment, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, his eyes filled with hunger and something deeper. "Tu es magnifique" ("You’re beautiful"), he whispered, his breath warm against her lips, eyes locked onto hers.

Her breath hitched, her body already alight from his words, the low timbre of his voice sending heat straight through her. His lips traveled downward, grazing her jaw, her neck, and further still until they found her breasts. His tongue swirled slowly over one of her nipples, and her hands instinctively reached for his locs, tangling in the soft strands as he sucked gently.

Jules' mouth moved with purpose—focused, determined, yet unhurried. His teeth grazed her skin just enough to make her gasp before he soothed the spot with his tongue. She tugged at his hair, earning a low groan from him that vibrated against her skin.

When he finally started to trail kisses lower, along her stomach, Ayo’s heart raced in anticipation. Every inch of her body was on fire, every nerve ending alive as his lips teased her inner thighs.

"Jules…" she breathed, barely able to get the word out as he pressed a kiss to her already soaked core. He pulled back for just a second, his eyes dark and full of mischief as he met her gaze.

"Je vais te goûter, bébé." ("I’m going to taste you, baby.")

Her entire body tensed, not in fear but in anticipation, and then—oh God—his tongue made contact, slow and deliberate, licking a long, wet stripe from her entrance to her clit. She moaned, louder than she meant to, her grip on his locs tightening as her back arched involuntarily.

Jules groaned against her, the vibration of his mouth sending ripples of pleasure through her body. "Putain, tu es délicieuse" ("Fuck, you're delicious."), he muttered against her skin, his French slipping out like a prayer.

His tongue was perfect. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world, licking her with slow, languid strokes that had her toes curling. He alternated between flicking his tongue over her clit and sucking gently, each movement so precise, so intentional that she felt like she was losing her mind.

"Shit," she whispered, her breath coming in ragged gasps. His tongue felt like heaven, each flick making her legs tremble and her pull on his hair tightened. He didn’t seem to mind—in fact, he encouraged it, moaning softly as he worked her over, his hands holding her hips firmly in place.

"C'est ça, tire mes cheveux, bébé. Je veux que tu jouisses sur ma langue" ("That's it, pull my hair, baby. I want you to come on my tongue."), he murmured, his voice husky, sending another jolt of arousal straight to her core.

Ayo could barely breathe, let alone respond, as his mouth worked her closer and closer to the edge. His tongue swirled around her clit before dipping lower, teasing her entrance, then returning to suck her clit with the perfect amount of pressure. Her legs shook harder, the pleasure spiraling through her like nothing she had ever experienced.

"Fuck… oh God…" she gasped, her voice breathless as her orgasm built, her hips moving against his face on their own accord.

Jules didn’t let up, moaning against her as he flattened his tongue, massaging her clit with slow, sensual strokes. Her body was alive, pulsing with heat and tension as he teased her relentlessly, bringing her higher and higher.

"Jules… I’m gonna—" She couldn’t even finish her sentence before the world shattered around her, her orgasm ripping through her with a force that left her breathless.

He groaned in response, his mouth never leaving her, tongue continuing to work her through her climax. The sensation was too much, yet not enough, her body shaking uncontrollably as he lapped at her, moaning against her skin like he was devouring the sweetest meal he'd ever tasted.

Her juices dripped down her thighs, and Jules didn’t waste a drop, his tongue making her body sing with every soft moan he made.

When he finally lifted his head, his lips glistening with her juices, he smirked up at her, eyes dark with satisfaction. "You taste so fucking good, bébé. Je suis déjà accro." ("I'm already addicted."), he murmured.

Ayo was panting, chest heaving as she came down from the high, her mind still spinning. She watched as Jules leaned back on his knees, his lips still glistening from her arousal as he looked down at her, his gaze dark and intense. His chest rose and fell heavily, his breathing ragged as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Ayo's pulse raced, her body still trembling from the orgasm he'd just pulled from her. She could feel the heat between them growing, the charged air making it impossible to think clearly.

Ayo slid down the bed, her fingers trailing over his chest, then lower to touch his cock. It was thick, hard, and slightly darker than the rest of his body, a contrast that made her mouth water.

Jules’ cock was beautiful, curved slightly upward, with veins running along the length of him. She wrapped her hand around the base, feeling the weight of him, and slowly began to stroke. He was already leaking pre-cum, the head glistening in the dim light. Ayo smirked as she leaned forward, teasing him with her tongue, licking a slow stripe from the base to the tip. Jules hissed through his teeth, his hand resting at the back of her neck.

"Putain, Ayo… oui, c'est ça" ("Fuck, Ayo… yes, just like that."), he groaned as she swirled her tongue around the head before taking him into her mouth.

She sucked him slowly, taking her time, savoring the feel of him on her tongue, the weight of him pressing against the roof of her mouth. Jules’ hand tightened in her hair as she bobbed her head, her hand working the base of his cock while her mouth worked the rest. His moans grew louder, a mix of French and English curses spilling from his lips as his hips bucked lightly against her face.

"Mon dieu, tu me rends fou" ("My God, you're driving me crazy."), he muttered, his accent thickening as his breathing grew heavier.

Ayo could feel him throbbing against her tongue, the salty taste of pre-cum spreading across her taste buds. She increased her pace, hollowing her cheeks as she took him deeper, gagging slightly but loving the way his grip tightened in her hair. His moans became ragged, and she could tell he was getting close, his hips moving more insistently.

"Ayo, I’m gonna…" Jules groaned, his voice tight, but then he suddenly pulled her off his cock, his breath coming in short gasps. "Non, bébé. I want to come inside you."

He was already moving off the bed, reaching into his suitcase in the corner of the room and pulling out a condom. Ayo laid back, her heart pounding as she watched him tear open the packet and roll it on. He was gorgeous—every inch of him toned, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. He climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs.

Jules grabbed her thighs, spreading her wide, his eyes locked on her still wet, swollen pussy. He stared for a moment, almost mesmerized. "Fuck, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Jules spit directly onto her pussy, and the warmth of it made her shudder with anticipation. His hand followed, spreading the moisture around as the other guided the head of his cock to her entrance. He rubbed the tip of his dick along her folds, teasing her clit before slowly pushing inside.

The stretch was incredible, the head of his cock thick and filling her inch by inch. Ayo gasped as he moved deeper, her body tight around him, gripping him like a vice. Jules groaned loudly as he pushed in further, his hands gripping her thighs tightly as he pressed forward.

"Christ, you’re so tight," he growled, his eyes locked on the place where their bodies met. "Relax for me, bébé."

He bent her legs, pushing them back toward her ears as he thrust deeper, his cock sinking into her inch by inch until he was fully seated inside her. Ayo whimpered, overwhelmed by how full she felt, how perfectly he stretched her.

Jules paused for a moment, looking down at her with an almost possessive gleam in his eyes. "Tu te sens tellement bien" ("You feel so good."), he groaned, his voice rough with desire.

Then he began to move, slow at first, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in, each movement sending a wave of pleasure coursing through her. His hips moved fluidly, his cock dragging against her walls in a way that made her eyes roll to the back of her head.

"Look at me," Jules commanded, his voice low and filled with heat. Ayo’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto his. His gaze was intense, burning into hers as he thrust into her harder, deeper. "I want to see you come for me, bébé."

His dirty talk mixed with French had her unraveling beneath him. His pace quickened, his strokes becoming more deliberate, each one hitting a spot inside her that had her gasping, moaning his name. His thumb found her clit, circling it gently as he fucked her harder.

"Tu es à moi ce soir" ("You're mine tonight."), he groaned, his voice ragged.

Yes, yes, whatever you say.

Ayo didn't have a clue what he was saying, but that didn't stop her back from arching violently off the bed as her orgasm slammed into her, her body trembling with wave after wave of raw pleasure. Every nerve seemed to be on fire, and all she could do was hold onto Jules, her nails digging into his biceps as her climax ripped through her.

But Jules wasn’t letting up. Not even close.

"Shit, bébé, that’s it. Come for me," he growled, his deep voice rough with lust as he pounded into her harder, his hips slamming against hers with an unrelenting rhythm. The intense eye contact between them never faltered—his dark eyes burning into hers, his gaze locking her in place as if he owned every inch of her in that moment.

And he did.

Ayo whimpered beneath him, her mind unable to catch up with her body, the sensation of his cock stretching her, filling her, too much but not enough all at once.

"Look at you, fuck," Jules rasped, licking his lips as he watched her lose herself to the pleasure. "Tu es tellement belle comme ça… si putain de sexy" ("You're so beautiful like this… so fucking sexy."), he groaned, his locs falling forward into his face as he thrust into her, his pace picking up even more.

Ayo’s breath hitched as her body tightened around him, her pussy clenching in time with each thrust, and Jules could feel it. "I can feel you, bébé. Tightening around my dick, huh? You’re so fucking close again, aren’t you?" His voice was low, a seductive growl as he licked his lips, eyes glinting with satisfaction.

His words were driving her wild, the dirty talk pushing her deeper into the haze of her pleasure. "Jules, fuck, I can’t—" she tried to speak, but her voice was a breathless whimper, swallowed by the intensity of it all.

"Oh, you can, and you will," he cut her off, his tone commanding. His hands gripped her thighs tightly, spreading her legs wider, so he could get even deeper. He thrust into her, harder, faster, his body relentless as he fucked her through the pleasure. "You gonna come again, bébé? You feel so fucking good wrapped around me. Let me feel you."

Ayo’s body began to tremble uncontrollably, her legs shaking as the pleasure built up inside her once more. Jules knew it too, his eyes locked on her, watching her fall apart beneath him. "That’s right, bébé. Come for me again. Let me feel that tight little pussy squeeze my cock."

Her second orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body tightening around him as the pleasure surged through her. She screamed his name, her voice breaking as her body shook uncontrollably beneath him.

"Fuck, Ayo, that’s it," Jules groaned, his own body shuddering as he felt her clench around him. He kept thrusting, his hips slamming into hers with powerful strokes, drawing out every ounce of her pleasure. "Good girl… keep coming for me."

Ayo couldn’t stop, her body wracked with aftershocks as her orgasm pulsed through her, her legs trembling around Jules as he continued to fuck her. His locs fell forward, brushing against her face as he leaned down, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. His tongue slid into her mouth, and she moaned into him, her body still tight around him.

Jules’ thrusts grew erratic, his breathing ragged as he neared his own climax. "Fuck, bébé, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, his voice rough as his body tensed. He licked his lips again, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he buried himself deep inside her one last time.

With a guttural moan, he came, his body shuddering as he emptied himself into the condom. His cock throbbed inside her as he held her close, his chest heaving against hers.

For a moment, they were both breathless, tangled together in the sheets, their bodies slick with sweat. Jules finally pulled back slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips still tingling from the intensity of their kisses. His hand slid up her side, resting on her waist as he looked down at her with a satisfied grin.

"You’re fucking amazing, you know that?" he murmured, his voice still husky with desire.

Ayo smiled weakly, her body still trembling slightly from the intensity of it all. "You’re not so bad yourself," she managed to tease, her chest still rising and falling heavily.

Jules woke slowly, the soft Kyoto sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow across the room. For a moment, he felt disoriented, his body heavy with the satisfying weight of deep sleep. But as the memories of the night before came rushing back, a slow grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. Ayo was still beside him, her body curled against the sheets, her breathing steady and peaceful.

He stretched lazily, careful not to disturb her, but his eyes remained fixed on her face. Jules had always enjoyed sex, craved it even, but last night with Ayo… it was different. The way her body responded to his touch, the way her soft moans had filled the room, the way she held onto him as if the world outside ceased to exist—it had flipped something in him. It wasn’t just about release or satisfaction. It was like he’d gotten a taste of something more, and now he was hooked.

Ayo stirred slightly, the soft flutter of her eyelashes and the curve of her lips making him want to pull her closer, to press his lips to her skin. There was something about her that he hadn’t felt with anyone else in a long time—if ever. It wasn’t just lust anymore; it was hunger. A need for more of her. More of the way she’d looked at him when he’d kissed her. More of the way she let him in, trusted him with her body, her pleasure.

He ran a hand through his locs, biting back a groan as he replayed every moment from last night.

Merde, he thought, already feeling that familiar pull.

He hadn’t planned on getting so wrapped up in someone, especially not on a trip like this, but Ayo had crept under his skin.

"Tu m'as rendu accro," Jules whispered to himself, his voice rough with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

The way she’d made him feel last night—like he couldn’t get enough of her, like every inch of her was a mystery he wanted to solve over and over again—it had him craving more. Jules wasn’t naive. He knew that what they had could easily be labeled as a fling, a one-time thing, but he didn’t want it to be. He wanted her again. And again.

He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow, unable to resist the urge to touch her. Lightly, he brushed a finger along the curve of her back, watching her skin react to his touch, goosebumps rising in the trail he left. It was subtle, but it was enough to remind him of how her body had felt under his hands last night, trembling, warm, so responsive.

As Ayo began to stir, her soft murmur pulling him back to the present, Jules' heart thudded in his chest. He wondered what she’d say when she woke up. Would she regret it? Was it just a moment for her? Part of him didn’t care because he knew what he wanted. He wanted more of this. Of her.

Ayo stretched lazily, her eyes fluttering open as she turned slightly toward him. Their gazes met, and for a moment, Jules was unsure what she was thinking. But then she smiled—soft and a little sleepy—and that was all the confirmation he needed.

"Morning," she whispered, her voice a little rough but full of warmth.

Jules' grin widened as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Morning, ma belle. Sleep well?"

Ayo nodded, her fingers brushing his arm lightly as she blinked away the last traces of sleep. "Yeah, I did. You?"

He chuckled, his eyes darkening as he leaned in a little closer. "I slept like a baby… but I’ve gotta admit, I was thinking about waking you up in a different way."

Ayo’s laugh was soft, but she met his gaze with a hint of playfulness in her eyes. "Oh really? And how would you do that?"

Jules raised an eyebrow, the teasing grin tugging at his lips. "Let me show you." He leaned in again, capturing her lips with his, slow at first, but with a heat simmering just beneath the surface. As the kiss deepened, his hand found her waist, pulling her body closer to his, that familiar hunger stirring within him again.

He was already addicted—now, he just had to figure out how to keep her.

His kisses moved from her mouth, trailing down her neck and over her collarbone, each touch a promise of what was to come. Ayo's breath hitched when he reached her inner thigh, his mouth hovering dangerously close to her core. Just as he was about to kiss her there, a loud knock interrupted the moment.

"Yo, Jules ! Tu es réveillé ? On pense à prendre le petit-déjeuner et à visiter les temples. Ça te dit?" Nicholas’ voice rang out from the other side of the door.

Jules cursed under his breath, his forehead resting on Ayo’s thigh in frustration. "Ouais, je passe sur le petit-déjeuner. Je vous rejoins dans un moment," he called back, his voice steady but a little strained. He glanced up at Ayo with a mischievous grin before pushing himself up. "Now where were we?" he asked with a playful smirk.

Ayo blinked, curious. "What did he say?"

Jules sighed. "Just asking about breakfast and the temples. Nothing important."

Ayo raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her lips. "Aren’t you hungry? You did a serious workout last night."

Jules’ grin widened, his cockiness shining through. "Oh, I’m about to have my breakfast." He didn’t waste any more time, lowering himself between her legs, his tongue working expertly against her core. Ayo’s moan echoed in the room, her body arching in response.

"Shh, bébé," Jules murmured, pausing just enough to speak, his breath hot against her skin. "I don’t want my friends to hear all those lovely sounds you’re making. They’re just for me."

Ayo whined softly, rolling her hips teasingly against his mouth. "But, baby… I can't."

Jules chuckled darkly. "Oh, you can." His hands gripped her hips firmly as he rolled her onto her stomach, propping her up so that her ass was in the air. He bent down, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. "Bite the pillow, bébé," he commanded before diving into her again, his tongue licking and sucking from behind with an intensity that made Ayo’s legs tremble.

She moaned into the pillow, the sound muffled but still full of need as Jules worked her with expert precision. Her body tensed, then released as her orgasm washed over her, her thighs shaking with the intensity of it. Jules pulled back slightly, licking his lips as though savoring the taste of her. He gave her ass a playful smack, his voice husky. "Delicious."

With a satisfied grin, Jules walked into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He gently cleaned her off, the intimacy of the gesture making Ayo's heart race. Then he rummaged through his bag and handed her a fresh toothbrush. They brushed their teeth together in comfortable silence, the normalcy of the act juxtaposed against the intensity of their earlier moments. Ayo slipped back into her clothes from the night before, while Jules pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

When they were ready, Jules opened the door, glancing around the suite. The guys weren’t around, thank God. He guided Ayo out, his hand resting protectively on her lower back as they made their way outside and then down the street to her hotel. Jules noticed the way Ayo walked, slightly stiff, and concern flickered across his face.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

Ayo chuckled, a bit sheepishly. "I’m fine. It’s just… it’s been a while."

Jules nodded, understanding but with a knowing grin on his lips. "Gotcha."

When they reached her hotel, Jules surprised her by pulling her close and kissing her deeply. The affection was unexpected, but Ayo melted into it, her hands resting on his chest. She pulled away, slightly breathless, and he flashed her a playful smirk.

"I’ll see you soon," he said, his voice low and promising.

She smiled, walking awkwardly into her hotel lobby. Jules watched her until she disappeared inside, then turned on his heel, heading back to his own hotel to shower and get ready for the day. His mind was already replaying last night, but there was still something about this that felt different—like he was still craving more of her, more of them.

After a quick shower and changing into fresh clothes, Jules met up with the guys in the lobby, who greeted him with knowing smirks.

"J'ai entendu des bruits intéressants venant de ta chambre hier soir," (I heard some interesting noises coming from your room last night,) AK teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jules just smiled, shaking his head. "Un gentleman ne raconte pas ses secrets," ("A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell",) he replied smoothly.

"Allez, mec," ("Come on, man",) Nicholas pressed, kissing his teeth. "C'était Ayo?" ("Was it Ayo?")

Jules remained tight-lipped, but his friends could read the answer in his eyes. They continued to prod for details as they made their way out of the hotel, but Jules wasn't one to share, especially ones that involved Ayo.

As they met up with the girls, the group set off for their day of sightseeing. Their first stop was Kinkaku-ji, the Golden Pavilion. The temple's golden façade gleamed in the morning sun, its reflection shimmering on the surface of the tranquil pond surrounding it. Jules found himself constantly stealing glances at Ayo, admiring her beauty.

Somehow, in such a short period, she managed to erase the 'thoroughly fucked' look she was sporting earlier that morning, and now was fresh as a daisy with her hair styled in her signature two puffs and wearing a a baby tee with cargo pants.

They strolled through the meticulously manicured gardens, the gravel crunching softly under their feet. Jules and Ayo lagged slightly behind the group, their hands occasionally brushing as they walked side by side.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jules murmured, gesturing to the scenery around them.

Ayo nodded, her eyes wide with wonder. "It's like something out of a fairy tale," she replied softly.

Their next stop was Fushimi Inari Taisha, with its thousands of vibrant red torii gates winding up the mountainside. The group began the ascent, the vermilion structures creating a tunnel-like effect that seemed to stretch endlessly before them.

As they climbed, Jules found himself walking beside Ayo, their playful banter returning easily despite the intimacy they had shared earlier. She shot him a knowing smile whenever their eyes met, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was thinking about last night, too.

Halfway up, they paused at a clearing that offered a breathtaking view of Kyoto below. While the others snapped photos, Jules and Ayo stood slightly apart, catching their breath.

"Holding up okay?" Jules asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

Ayo raised an eyebrow at him. "I may be sore, but I can handle a little hike," she retorted playfully.

"Just making sure," he said, moving closer to lean in her ear. "I kind of wrecked that little pussy of yours."

His unexpected dirty words made her eyes widen and darken, causing Jules to lick his lips in anticipation, praying that she was yearning just as much as he was for another moment.

"You kinda did, but I'll be alright," she murmured.

"I'm sure you will, ma belle," he winked.

Later in the afternoon, they found themselves wandering through the bustling Nishiki Market. The narrow street was lined with vendors selling everything from fresh seafood to handcrafted knives. The air was thick with the aroma of grilled meats, sweet confections, and the chatter of locals and tourists alike.

They sampled all kinds of local delicacies—skewers of grilled chicken yakitori, chewy mochi in various flavors, and sashimi so fresh it practically melted on their tongues.

As they navigated the crowded market, Jules found himself gravitating towards Ayo. He leaned in close, ostensibly to be heard over the market's din, but really just to feel her nearness.

"You know," he murmured, his lips nearly grazing her ear, "there's still one thing here I'm dying to taste again."

Ayo's cheeks warmed, and she playfully swatted him away, but the look in her eyes told Jules she was thinking along the same lines. Her laughter was soft, mingling with the clamor of the market as they moved past stalls brimming with colorful produce and sizzling street food.

Ayo leaned in close, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, maybe if you're lucky, you'll get a chance for seconds," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear.

Before Jules could respond, Nikki appeared beside them. "Hey lovebirds, we gotta go. Sushi making class, remember?"

The group made their way to a traditional Japanese kitchen, where a sushi master waited to guide them through the art of roll-making. Jules and Ayo stood close, their hands occasionally brushing as they prepared their sushi rolls.

"Alright, everyone," the chef said, "let’s get rolling! Start by laying out your seaweed and spreading the rice evenly."

As they worked, the group chatted and joked, taking turns snapping pictures of their culinary creations.

Jules stared at the mess of rice and nori on his bamboo mat, a mixture of frustration and amusement etched on his face. His fingers, usually so deft with a football, seemed hopelessly clumsy as he tried to shape the delicate ingredients.

"Merde," he muttered, his voice a low grumble of defeat. The roll - if you could even call it that - had fallen apart for the third time, looking more like abstract art than anything remotely edible. "I think I'll stick to football."

Ayo leaned over, her shoulder brushing against his as she assessed his handiwork. The warmth of her body so close to his sent a shiver down his spine, momentarily distracting him from his culinary disaster.

"I don't know," she mused, her lips curving into a playful smirk. "It has a certain... abstract charm to it. Very avant-garde sushi, if you ask me."

Jules couldn't help but chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He pulled out his phone, angling it to capture his misshapen creation. "I'm just gonna take your word for it," he said, his eyes meeting hers.

The sushi-making class continued to buzz with laughter and chatter, the air thick with the scent of vinegared rice and fresh fish. Jules found himself speaking with AK and Wilhelm as they recounted the day's adventures.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Symone sidling up to Ayo, her expression playful and knowing. Despite his best efforts to focus on his conversation, Jules couldn't help but tune into their exchange.

"Girl, I see you over here getting cozy with Jules," Symone teased, her voice low but carrying just far enough for Jules to catch. "Maybe you should take another ride on him before the night’s over."

Ayo rolled her eyes. "Nah, I don't want to seem like I'm thirsty."

Symone waved a dismissive hand. "Bitch, that man wouldn’t mind if you were in his bed every night. You have ten days left until we never see these men again. Make it count, Ayo."

Jules felt a jolt at Symone's words, the reality of their impending separation hitting him hard. The revelation that their time together was limited, that this vibrant connection with Ayo might end soon, struck him like a sudden gust of wind. He hadn’t fully grasped how much her presence had become a highlight of his days, how the mere sound of her laughter had become something he anticipated.

As he refocused on AK and Wilhelm’s conversation, nodding along with forced ease, Jules’s mind was a whirlwind. How could he turn this vacation connection into something more lasting?

One thing was certain – he wasn't ready to let Ayo go just yet. Not when it felt like they were just getting started.

accordingtoayo • posted on her story 6 hours ago

Ayo laid back on Jules’ bed, her mind a flurry of conflicting thoughts.

Am I dickmatized now? Because sex should never be this good.

Ayo had always cherished the emotional connections in her relationships, with sex being a gratifying addition, a cherry on top. Her previous boyfriends had never managed to make her body react like this—never made her mewl, beg, and whine for more. Vibrators had once been her go-to for the ultimate satisfaction, eliminating the need for a partner to meet her needs. But Jules was different. Potent, eager, and incredibly skilled, he blended sweetness and dominance in a way that was both thrilling and dangerous. It was an addictive combination, making her wonder how she could possibly give this up when their vacation ended.

Barcelona isn’t that far, an intrusive voice whispered in her head. The thought was tempting—European travel was relatively easy compared to crossing states. But could she really take that leap? Would she for him?

The way Jules had devoured her, like she was his Last Supper, was something she never experienced before. It was raw, uninhibited, and intensely pleasurable. It was a level of passion she hadn't anticipated, nor had she ever imagined she’d crave it so much.

But oh, did she enjoy it. At least until the inevitable goodbye.

As Jules pulled away from her core, his breath hot and ragged, he gave her a sly smile. His voice, a low, commanding purr with that tantalizing French accent, wrapped around her like a promise. "Chérie, ride me," he said, his English words laced with a French lilt that made his request sound both urgent and seductive.

Ayo swallowed hard, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of his touch. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a condom, his eyes never leaving hers as he sheathed himself. The sight of him so confident, so assured, only heightened her anticipation. She nodded, her hands reaching out for his shoulders as she positioned herself above him.

As she began to ride him, her movements tentative at first, then gaining confidence, her thoughts raced. The pleasure was intense, the friction exquisite. Jules’s hands roamed over her hips, guiding her, his eyes locked on hers with a mixture of intensity and affection.

"Tu es tellement magnifique comme ça," he murmured in French, his voice a velvety crone that made her shiver. His gaze held hers, a smoldering look that made her feel both desired and cherished.

"Jules," she gasped, her voice breathy with pleasure. "You feel so… amazing."

He responded with a soft chuckle, his lips brushing against her ear. "C’est ce que je veux entendre (That’s what I want to hear)," he said. His hands slid up to cup her breasts, his thumb and fingers teasing her nipples, making her moan in response.

Ayo’s movements became more fluid, her rhythm steady as she rode him. Jules’s grip on her breasts tightened, his eyes never leaving her face. He leaned forward, his tongue flicking out to taste her nipples, sending waves of pleasure through her.

"Such a good girl," he praised, his voice a mixture of adoration and dominance.

Ayo’s body arched as she felt him spank her ass playfully, the mix of pleasure and pain making her gasp. As she continued to ride him, her moans filled the room, the connection between them both electrifying and comforting. Jules’s touch, his voice, the way he commanded yet adored her—it was all addictive. The pleasure, the intimacy—it was everything she had been missing, and she couldn’t help but wonder how she would cope when the vacation came to an end.

Jules’s relentless focus on her, coupled with his soothing yet authoritative voice, pushed Ayo to new heights of pleasure. His grip on her hips was firm but tender, guiding her movements with expert precision. Each time she sank down, the sensation of him inside her brought forth a mix of delight and desperation.

"Look at me," Jules instructed softly, his eyes boring into hers. "I want to see that beautiful face of yours as you come apart for me."

Ayo’s breaths came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with every thrust. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, and she saw nothing but raw desire reflected back at her. The connection was electric, and she could feel the heat of his passion melding with her own. Her rhythm quickened, driven by the mounting pressure inside her.

"You’re taking this so well," Jules praised, his voice a throaty mix of admiration and raw lust. Jules’s hands slid to her ass again, kneading the flesh before delivering another firm, pleasurable smack.

The sting of his hand on her ass combined with the pleasure of his cock made Ayo cry out, her moans spilling from her lips as she moved harder against him. Jules’s words were a mix of command and caress, pushing her closer to the brink.

"Come on this dick," he urged, his voice a low growl. His eyes remained locked on hers, a dangerous glint in them as he watched her unravel.

Ayo’s body was a symphony of pleasure and need, her moans growing louder as she approached her climax. "Jules," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper as she felt the edge of her climax drawing near. "I’m... I’m so close."

He responded with a smirk, his expression one of both satisfaction and anticipation. He knew he had brought her to this point, and he couldn't wait to feel her release. "I know, bébé," he said, his own voice rough with need. "I can feel you tightening around me. Let go for me."

With a guttural cry, Ayo's body convulsed in ecstasy, her climax washing over her in waves. Jules followed soon after, his own release overtaking him as he buried himself deep inside her.

As Ayo’s breathing began to slow, Jules gently rolled over, bringing her with him, until she was nestled comfortably against his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his arms encircling her in a protective embrace.

Ayo let out a contented sigh, her body still tingling from the aftermath of her orgasm. Jules’ touch was warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the intensity they had just experienced.

"Hey," Jules murmured, his voice a low rumble as he looked down at her. "You okay?"

Ayo nodded, her voice muffled against his chest. "Yeah, just…thinking."

Jules chuckled softly, his fingers lightly tracing circles on her back. "Mmhmm, let me clean you up."

He gently disentangled himself from her and reached for a condom, carefully disposing of it in the trashcan. Then he grabbed a washcloth from the nightstand and wiped her clean with tender care, his touch gentle and considerate.

"Sorry for the mess," he said with a playful smirk, his eyes warm and affectionate.

Ayo smiled up at him, her eyes still heavy with the remnants of their passion. "No need to apologize."

Jules settled back down beside her, patting the space next to him. "Come closer," he murmured, his voice soft and inviting.

Ayo shifted closer, resting her head on his firm, muscled chest. She let out a contented sigh as she snuggled against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek.

"You know," Jules said, his voice filled with a soft seriousness, "I really like us like this. Just chilling after sex. It feels… good."

Ayo smiled, her fingers lightly grazing his chest. "I do too."

Jules’s hand rested on her back, his touch soothing. "You feel so good," he admitted, his voice a mix of vulnerability and affection. "It’s like I can’t get enough of you."

Ayo tilted her head slightly, looking up at him with a soft, sleepy smile. "Same, you're like some drug I can't kick. Too good."

Eventually, Jules’s breathing evened out, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest and his light snores filled the room. As Ayo lay nestled against Jules, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment, she found her thoughts drifting. Despite the blissful haze of satisfaction, a soft tension tugged at the edges of her mind.

Did she like him too soon? Or was it just the allure of the vacation, the foreign city, and the intoxicating allure of a man who seemed to understand her body in ways no one had before? It wasn’t just the sex, though God knew that was incredible—it was how easy it felt with Jules. How their bodies fit together, sure, but also how their conversations flowed, how his teasing smile could light up her day, how his quiet moments felt more intimate than any words they could exchange.

She shifted slightly in his arms, feeling the strength in his embrace even as he slept. Could she give this up when the trip ended? Barcelona wasn’t that far from London. Hell, she’d flown longer for work meetings.

Ayo let out a quiet sigh, her breath mingling with Jules’ soft snores and the darkness of the room. The thought of never seeing Jules again after this trip created a pit in her stomach she wasn’t ready to deal with. For now, though, she’d just focus on this—on him, on this moment.

accordingtoayo - Kyoto, Japan

liked by jkeey4, symonenotbiles, gigithegreatest, nikkigal, and others

accordingtoayo: kyoto, you have my heart ♥️ ⛩️🍡

view all 290 comments….

jamaal_erickson: still not answering my calls? wtf ayo?

jkeey4: 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

jamaal_erickson: nigga who tf are you replying to my girls’ IG?

symonenotbiles: my bestie is a baddie 😝

gigithegreatest: 😍😍😍😍😍

nikkigal: why are you this fine, ma’am?? 😭😭

TO BE CONTINUED....

#emjayewrites #jules in japan #jules kounde #footballer x black reader #footballer x reader #fc barcelona fanfic #jules koundé fanfic #sakura dreams #jules x ayo

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whipplefilter · 2 months

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Auto Racing Analytics is my new favorite account, because who doesn't love a spider graph?? I love a spider graph:

I initially found this account through a post that had that blue line and was like, "guess whose stats these are." And I was immediately like, that is the most 5-coded blue line. Operating at such a high level! So well-rounded! Except for the giant chomp taken out of it where DNFs and crash avoidance are concerned, hahaha...ha!

Going into Indy, I was talking to @the-kings-tail-fin about how, on any given day, the 5 could not be trusted in the way that the 9 could, and that the 24 was seasonally trustworthy (one of those seasons not being summer). I'd wanted to make a post about my thoughts on Kyle Larson's driving style, but chickened out of it because it's not as though I had any actual data aside from anecdotal evidence of having watched more of his Cup races than I haven't. But look, a spider graph! That affirms my personal impressions!

So let's talk about Kyle Larson and the 5. Kyle Larson is known for being good, which in racing generally means fast. HMS can put together some fast cars. But the fastest car isn't always the winning car. So what've we got? Here are my novice takes:

fast -- yes

loose -- he prefers a loose racecar (as opposed to tight)--understeer in the corners, where the back tends to swing out. If you can control it, you can find speed this way. Con? The if, I guess. And tire management, because a tire that's sliding isn't rolling.

aggressive -- Larson's self-descriptor, which in his context means shoving a car in places it does not seem like a car can fit (and often finding that it does not, in fact, fit there).

Case in point:

That was re: late braking/brake lockup, but when other cars are involved, aggression looks like shoving a car in places that dare the other guy to wreck them both or lift. This is why the "terminal avoidance" and "crash avoidance" stats take such a nosedive--because sometimes when you're playing with fire like that, you mess up. Or the other guy doesn't lift. But it makes for fantastic spectating, especially when coupled with the daring required to pass and come up the field (when you have the speed to do so). That kind of run can also be hard on tires, as well as fuel, though fuel is not typically as big a storyline as it has been in 2024. And I will say that KL has gotten a lot better at tire management than he has been in the past.

creative -- Adaptability to an ever-changing track and, again, the daring to try new lines and search around for whatever works, which Jeff Gordon describes as a dirt race thing, in that it's the bread and butter of that form of racing, given that a dirt track is different every lap.

clean -- It doesn't seem like "clean" and "aggressive" would go hand in hand, since being aggressive can result in wrecks and also means you're a pain in the bum to anyone you're racing, but there's lots of flavors to "aggressive" and KL is not a "rattle his cage" kind of guy. Which isn't to say the racing won't get phyisical--it just probably won't be retaliatory.

For example, my biggest kink is Kyle Larson getting eaten alive by JGR, and KyBu and Denny Hamlin have, historically, done this a lot, because their form of aggression is a lot more toothy, if you will. But KL's bit back sometimes, too. (MTJ has gotten in on this action by beating KL on restarts for years straight. But as you'll see in the graph, restarts have improved!)

I'll also note that I've definitely seen KL punt a backrunner out of his way, so he's not above such things entirely. But he's a terrible person to pick a fight with outside of the car, because he won't fight back.

He's just great to watch, on TV and live. Even if this style of racing is exceptionally make-or-break in a playoffs format, because when it's good it's so, so good and when it's bad it's real bad. But such are the tradeoffs, and it's really cool to look back and recognize the level of excellence that's happening in the car.

I'll caveat that by saying that I've watched Kyle Larson miss pit road in an Xfinity race because he... forgot?? to pay attention??? and have seen him wheel hop his way around a road course and tear the tires of a racecar overdriving it and push extremely badly in the draft and whiff a restart to the point of no return, and that realistically I've probably also seen him do... most of those things... in 2024, too... I saw someone say once that for someone so talented KL sure does a lot of things that are incredibly, gobsmackingly dumb, and I probably wouldn't argue against that.

#i had to take my car to one of its ~little appointments~ today and the undercoating place is 50 miles away #so you can bet i spent the whole time just thinking about that spider graph #my next train of thought was 'i wonder what lightning mcqueen's graph looks like'#well my second train of thought was 'i wonder what my bleach blorbo's graph looks like' but THEN LMQ #i have some other fandom stuff i should do first but i definitely want to headcanon a LMQ graph #despite the plot of cars 3 i think LMQ has good crash avoidance because if he didn't rusteze wouldn't have made it as a team budget-wise #though i think i've also written headcanons on this blog about him having a much more sinusoidal running position than the King #kyle larson #nascar #real racing

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leonardalphachurch · 2 years

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ε-gamma is so funny. gary is all like, oh i’m going to be gay and evil and torture the alpha again and try to take over the galaxy and fall in love with a man with a mustache and ε-gamma is literally like bro i am just s i am just sitting here

#rvb #this is my ‘gary and alpha were genuinely friends’ propaganda train. epsilon remembered him fondly.#‘what about all the murder’ ‘uhhhhhh it’s okay this one didn’t do that’#the way that ε-sigma is just this nebulous evil thing is also fascinating #like i know it’s bc. elijah wood expensive. but. in canon #he doesn’t talk! and if i will remind that is What Sigma Did. he talked.#but Sigma is not how epsilon remembers sigma. Sigma is not who epsilon introjects.#epsilon introjects The Meta.#obviously nothing like the actual meta. just this terrifying growling concept that epsilon can only understand as ‘the bad man’#i don’t think epsilon could let himself think of what the meta’s actual goals were. could let himself understand that HE is #essentially what the meta wanted to be. he IS the complete meta. in some ways #we KNOW miles understands what the meta actually was. price says it clear as day. the meta wanted to be human.#yet epsilon still presents it to carolina as a bid for power #because i don’t think it’s the meta’s goals epsilon is afraid of. i think it’s its methods #i think it’s epsilon knowing so deeply inside of him. that he could’ve walked that path. to get to her.#everyone seems to know what’s best for texas right? sigma seemed to know what was best for the other ai #and maybe he was right yknow? maybe he was right. isn’t epsilon so much happier now that he remembered the fragments?#was sigma wrong for wanting to gather everyone again? was epsilon wrong for wanting to see her again? were they wrong?#who has to die to prove they weren’t wrong??#oops i. wrote a sad novel in the tags of silly post.

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welcometogrouchland · 1 year

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I also want to make it very clear that the spider-verse franchise has made miles one of the dearest characters ever to me. All of the spidermen in the movie are great. But despite all our differences in bg and identity Miles' story speaks to me like very little else does (w/ some rare exceptions I keep very close to my heart). I'm not really coherent enough to provide sophisticated analysis rn but just know that he is my everything and I adore him so so much

#ramblings of a lunatic #like. the first spider-verse movie spoke to me as a 13 yr old when it came out #he was a kid with high expectations set for him and all these artistic ambitions but he dismissed himself. he doubted himself #he didn't realize that just being himself was valuable bc he is valuable. his journey to becoming spiderman #-hit so goddamn hard. it's about the fuckin. don't do it like me miles. do it like you (cut line spoken by peter b)#bc the way miles does it is good enough. he's good enough #and this second movie is still on that train but even harder as everyone tries to shut him out and make him feel not good enough #Miguel's projecting his bullshit onto miles his friends aren't sticking up for him his parents are disappointed in him. and he's hiding #but the movie affirms even harder that no. miles is something different and that is what makes him so special. he has so much worth #he has cosmic significance bc he is defiantly himself #and like. all of the subtext i mentioned above is clearly based around/related to his afrolatino identity #and I'm not gonna pretend for a minute that i get that part the way i get the more. surface level ig? aspects of his arc #these arcs exist bc of his background and how they thematically tie his identity into the story #but like. that context doesn't make him any less relatable. it just makes him mean different things for different ppl yknow?#and that's the beauty behind the while ''anyone can be behind the mask'' motif from the first movie #anyway. these movies are really good. i love miles #spiderverse spoilers

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sailforvalinor · 1 year

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I may never recover from this film actually

#SPOILERS IN TAGS #I was sitting there in the theater in that last scene and I was thinking ‘if miles is not the prowler in this universe it is a wasted #opportunity’ and then I nearly lost it when I was right #I can’t even articulate how much I loved this film #so many wonderful character moments and great dialogue!#my only complaint is no spiderman noir??? my boy???#but anyway otherwise it was delightful #I heard everyone complaining about Gwen and I was nervous but actually I really liked what they did with her #like yes she was really frustrating but also it’s difficult to imagine doing anything else in that situation and her actions weren’t out of #character at all #also um. can we talk about how Miguel might be an Inheritor?#like what was he about to do to miles on that train. was he about to eat him???#(for reference Miguel doesn’t normally have fangs like that)#astv #across the spiderverse

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versasfanficwastedump · 2 months

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more Dad Things that Bruce Wayne definitely does:

makes the kids hold the flashlight when he’s working on the Batmobile and yells at them when they don’t do it right

makes lots of weird gross dad noises (groaning, hacking, etc)

snores like a fucking freight train. like seriously, there should be a noise warning on his bedroom door

snack tax in the car!!! reaches his hand back and does the little grabby thing

“when was the last time you changed your oil”

gives the worst directions

“so you’ll pull out of here and go north about three miles—“ “what the hell are you saying to me”

gets to the airport five hours before the plane takes off (it’s a private plane, it’s not leaving without him)

this is more of a mom thing, but he gasps like he’s just been stabbed when someone wakes him up

*whispering* “B…B…Bruce” “HEUEUH. What.”

Texts “Call me now.” and when the kids do, assuming something horrible has happened, he’s like “what should we eat for dinner tonight.”

on the other hand, he also forgets to tell the kids very important information

“how’s it going, B?” “not much just recovering from my wrist surgery last week” “your WHAT?!”

(that just happened to me. thanks dad)

#versa speaks #batman #bruce wayne #batfan #dick grayson #jason todd #robin #batfam #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #duke thomas #is this anything

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dollerinna · 3 months

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I WANT TO F**K YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL .

( black noir x fem supe!reader )

summary: the not-so-innocent things that go on in noir’s head abt you during The Seven meetings (wc: 1.8k)

warnings: MDNI, dub-con, rough p in v, doggy style, primal play themes, size kink, gagging, sobbing, corruption kink, Homelander being a weirdo at the end… just a lil’

first fic on this blog and I lowkey hate it- ughhh sorry if it’s all over the place!

The morning sun cast its golden glow upon the Manhattan skyline as The Seven assembled in their meeting room.

Homelander paced before them, detailing some new initiative he had conceived, but his words rang as emptily as the void behind his eyes. The Deep hung on his every syllable, eager as ever to prove his ass-kissing self with poorly-timed quips. This earned him nothing but a withering side-eye.

A-Train and Maeve listened with feigned interest, checking out of the conversation all but in body. Noir sat apart, idly fidgeting with a pen as his mind wandered. But his attention was drawn not to the usual faces, for there was a new supe among them—you, the latest fresh-faced recruit to their team.

On the surface, you appeared the absolute picture of attention—eyes forward, laser focused on Homelander as he tiresomely outlined the team's objectives.

It was cute, really, how focused the newbies always strived to be. Yet beneath the facade, you were actually anything but so, not when you felt an unseen gaze assessing you, weighing you.

Flicking your eyes discreetly aside, you confirmed a suspicion you could smell from miles away: Noir watching from across the table, his expression shrouded as ever behind the visor of his helmet.

Ugh, talk about creepy.

A subtle flutter of your eyelids shifted your line of sight, choosing to trust that his thousand-yard stare just so casually happen to drift your way and not an attempt to burn his gaze into your very soul.

Besides, what else could the guy possibly think about? Training, orders from Vought, simple pastimes—usually, such painfully mundane, run-of-the-mill thoughts occupied him.

But little did you know in this moment, as he studied your presence from afar, his mental reflections took a turn less… innocent.

─────────────────

“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”

It wasn’t his doing, he didn’t ask to be plagued with this sickly obsession; but every time he heard your voice, it was as if sweet, smooth-spun sugar had come alive.

An alien lust scorched Noir’s consciousness, catapulting his fevered mind into unfamiliar territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sinful thoughts that stubbornly stuck to him like glue. Just the mere notion of ever being responsible for those pretty little sounds was enough for arousal to creep through his veins like a nasty virus, sapping what was left of his crumbling self-control.

Your every whine, your every moan, would be a siren's call that beckoned him to claim you, to strip away your composure until you were utterly, helplessly his. All he craved was to watch the light in your eyes dwindle, to witness your breaths dampening into shallow puffs of air that blanketed your gaze in a veil of fog, gradually muffling you into a stillness even quieter than he was.

And truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of whether you liked it or not.

Noir would ensure his touch left no room for refusal, his grasp iron-hard as he positioned your trembling, naked body on the floor to his liking—face pinned down, ass arched up, just as it should be. Yet even as he held you fast with a palm braced against your sweat-slicked spine, his other hand moved with a surprising tenderness, gently teasing loose and brushing apart the knotted strands of hair clung to your ruddied features.

He imagined the merest of touches would set your blood aflame, rumbling up a ripe groan from your core. “…Oh m-my god… fuck…” words fled your mouth on airless breaths, nearly inaudible but still enough for him to catch. In response, he’d slowly lift a finger to your glistening lips, accompanied by a soundless ‘shh’—a signal for you to behave.

After all, good girls should never cuss.

Large, strong hands would then greedily paw at the lush fat of your ass cheeks, the scratchy textured fabric of his gloves leaving blooms of red across your flesh. Spreading you open, he’d admire the way your juicy, moist folds parted slightly, the aching emptiness within your entrance eliciting an involuntary clenching—your muted moans, trapped in your throat, acting as a wordless plea for more of his touch, more of him.

He liked to think you’d be mere putty in his hands, before he was even close to fucking you.

Noir would take his sweet time exploring you, his curiosity of the human form eclipsing the immediate need to quell a white-hot carnal desire every red-blooded man gets. He was good at rearranging people’s insides, literally, but what if he flipped the script in a much different way?

Experimentally, he’d run the very tip of his gloved finger along the weeping slit of your sex, ghosting ever so lightly over your swollen, hypersensitive clit to collect your slick arousal. Then, without warning, he’d dip an entire digit into your quivering depths, reveling in the way your spongy muscles squeezed and welcomed him in.

Your breath would hitch at the intrusion, skin prickling with a visceral need as you eagerly shoved your rear back against his palm, craving more. However, just as swiftly, he would withdraw his hand, bringing it close to his face to observe it covered in your juices, inspecting how the slimy, milky-white essence connected a trail between his fingers.

Who knew light fondling and agonizing silence was all the foreplay you needed? (or at least, in Noir’s fanciful pornographic depictions of you)

Once done playing with his food, he’d drag his knees closer to your body, his hips flush against your ass, leaving your peripheral vision filled with nothing but his imposing, darkly-clad figure dwarfing your own. Without hesitation, he’d reach down to remove the codpiece off him, freeing his hefty cock which sprang forth in the air, where it stood rock-hard, veiny, and impossibly large.

Wrapping a hand around himself, the thickly-roped, buzzing veins were betrayed by each gritty pull of his glove, drawing a guttural grunt from behind his balaclava. He’d guide his erection between your warm folds, the engorged ridge of his tip prodding against your bundle of nerves, sending electric jolts of pleasure to crackle through your core, before he began to sheathe himself inside you with a push that drove him home.

With a grip possessive and firm around your waist, Noir quickly fell into a steady, almost robotic rhythm of sturdy pushes and pulls. Each punishing collision of your bodies was answered by the lewd, rapid sounds of skin-on-skin, making damn sure you felt every single inch of him as he rutted into you like a man possessed.

He’d only hope to see you struggle taking him all in, envisioning how the sheer scale of his size forced the very air out from your gasping lungs.

“P-Please Noir!… ngh-… my body can’t handle this much,” your once-lovely voice now ragged and frail, scraping sobs grinding your vocal cords near silence as you churned and coiled like a fawn caught in the clutches of a big, bad wolf. “Be gentle, I’m begging you!—-” You choked out weakly, bordering on a soft, pitiful whine.

Expectantly, a weighted silence followed suit from Noir. In his typical, unsparing fashion, he slipped a glove from his hand, jamming it into your mouth and effectively gagging you into silence, as if to say—pipe down, be a good girl, and take my cock like you’re supposed to.

Even without a single word uttered by him, it worked like absolute fucking magic.

Your torso would practically collapse under the onslaught, wobbly limbs giving way as you let Noir use your arched up, offering form like a personal fleshlight. His hips would retract further back in an excruciating slowness, simply marveling at your wetness coating the base of his member like a second skin, only to slam back into you with raw vigor.

Your tight, gummy walls would be offered absolutely no time to adjust to the relentless invasion of his girth, the sheer thickness of his cock forcefully stretching out your cunt to shape him, to the point it felt like he was trying to split you into two.

He’d yank your flexing thighs back to meet his brutal series of thrusts, burying himself into you to the very tilt as the fleshy head of his cock kissed your cervix, igniting a searing white bolt of static to lance through your vision, momentarily fracturing it.

The all-consuming, dizzying sensation hit you like a ton of bricks, toppling your senses and wrenching a strangled sob out from your slack jaw once more. This earned you another biting touch from Noir’s thumbs pressed into your sides, as if seeking to wring every gasp out of your chest, to hear your moans rattle through your ribcage.

However even your rawest cries were swiftly muffled, swallowed by the balled-up glove shoved roughly between your teeth, which reduced you to nothing more than a gagging, pleasure-drunk whore for him to claim.

─────────────────

Meanwhile…

“Welp, that about covers it for today,” Homelander announced with a thunderous clap, loud enough for it to ring through Noir’s ears and bring him back to the present.

Slowly, Noir spun his head back towards Homelander, who had just finished addressing the team while his own thoughts drifted to places where even the pearly gates of heaven wouldn't give him the time of day.

“Now shoo- and no more sloppy behavior. I’ll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you.” Homelander dismissed them with a casual wave and a chuckle laced with another one of his thinly veiled threats.

As everyone, including little-miss-oblivious-you, got up to leave the meeting room, Homelander sauntered over to Noir, heartily slapping a heavy hand onto his back. “Earth to Noir! I know that look—thoughts a million miles away behind that sphinx-like mask of yours,” giving a sly little shrug, he slanted a meaningful look towards Noir’s codpiece. “But methinks, someone here isn’t as impenetrable as I thought…” A thin wry smile played his lips, a subtle hint at his x-ray vision allowing him to see a particular something-something of Noir’s that was currently just as hard as his body armor.

“It might do you good to line that suit with zinc. Wouldn't want any unwanted eyes peeking where they shouldn’t, do we?" An amused exhale, part sigh part snicker, slipped out of Homelander as his gaze swept over Noir once more.

True to form, all he received in turn was Noir’s standard muteness, as soundless as a grave.

Homelander eased the quiet with a huffed laugh, rocking back on his heels as he tilted his head in playful study of Noir. "But don't worry," he added with a knowing smirk, "it happens to the best of us. But do try to keep your head in the game! And not with your other one, ‘kay buddy?” Homelander jested in mock-reproach as he landed one last waggish, firm slap between Noir's shoulders, flashing his gleaming white yet eerily pointed grin.

Noir remained statue still, no hint of feeling betrayed by his rigid posture despite the toe-curling awkwardness of the encounter, or perhaps he'd yet to fully realize Homelander had peered within and seen his aching, raging hard-on behind the suit's facade.

Noir silently watched Homelander shoot two playful finger guns, his cape swirled shut behind him before leaving the room.

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Pssst- Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

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Apologies if there are any grammatical errors here, cuz I’m alr so done with this fic 😭😭😭

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ciboriaadastra · 1 year

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Eventually I'll get to reading all the comics Duke appears in solely to be more justifiably irritated at [nonblack] folks who keep calling him "insane" and "crazy" for choosing to be a vigilante hero in a world with entire networks of vigilante heroes that take in and train protégés who also choose the life of crimefighting. Maybe I'm just missing some context that I'm not getting from all these posts with snippets of "examples" from the comics of said "insane" and "crazy" behavior...but nothing I've seen so far of his behavior is particularly bizarre nor an unreasonable series of decisions.

Also it's Gotham; if you're expecting people in a literal cursed city that gets gassed with various toxins constantly and has one of the worst police departments in-universe to not have eventually developed programs to teach their youth survival and self-defense skilks to increase their likelihood of surviving frequent supervillain crime, producing kids like Duke who have ideas of what they need to do when they organize and take matters into their own hands just like the child vigilante hero(es) they modeled their movement after...what is the thought process?

#'he's so crazy for that' and he's not doing anything different from the 5 Robins who came before him #most of the robins became so by their own obstinance and choices #in that bruce knew a trained child vigilante is better than an untrained free roaming reckless child trying to beat up armed criminals #so if they're determined to hit the streets no matter what then they'll do it with guidance and on his terms #so no I don't find Duke's choice an anomaly but following an established pattern #and the snippets I've seen show maturity + compassion + quick reflexes + situational awareness + street smarts #things I'd expect a leader of a youth movement of this nature to have...and yes teenagers can be that intelligent #Black teenagers can be that intelligent and possess those skills and it would not be out of the ordinary for them #this is such a weird phenomenon that I don't see happen to the other robins independently of duke #and they do much wilder shit at his age than what I've seen him doing so far and specifically what's been pointed out as so 'crazy'#i see a Black boy in cape comics and immediately need to go to bat (haha) for them. leave miles and duke alone they are normal actually #y'all act like you've never interacted with Black people let alone Black children in your lives #also going to gag if I see another post calling duke a cinnamon roll. Be Normal challenge failed #just bc a lot of his predecessors are assholes you would be miserable interacting with on a regular basis doesn't make duke innocently sweet #'look he is Gentle and Cares A Lot' that is normal people behavior hate to break it to y'all #'he's not about vengeance and trying to figure out why the world is cruel' it's cause he's Black and thus already knows why #and vengeance is nowhere near as important as uplifting and protecting your community. sorry he lives life through a Black perspective #ciboria rambles

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yuuuhiii · 8 months

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wanna go for a ride ?

minors this is not for you!

includes : riding Yuuta’s washboard abs :P, 1.2k words, little overstimulation, making out and just smut in general;D , Yuuta’s a little tease mwhahaha and kinda sub reader

Yuuta was more of a giver than reciever. He adored giving you gifts and affection.

But his favorite thing in the world was pleasuring you.

He just loved your fucked out look when he’d be blowing your back out or even better, eating you out. The way your eyes would cross or roll back was always a sight for sore eyes.

Your orgasms and the noises he pulled from you were all he needed to pleasure himself. Giving that Yuuta was like this, he always fed into your fantasies.

You wanted to try something new in the bedroom? He was all for it. If it meant you’d be happy and well taken care of he’d do anything for you.

Even though Yuuta has never judged you for your new ways to spice things up in the bedroom it was still embarrassing to mention things to him.

Like the time you mentioned to sit on his face was definitely a night to remember. Not just because of how fucked out he left you but the whole conversation before hand.

Your boyfriend was just so sweet you almost feel like you’re tainting his bashful and pure personality with your lewd desires.

However he was just as filthy as you.

You sat in your living room in boredom as you waited for him to get home. He had gone to train with Inumaki and Panda, letting you know that he was on his way back.

Although throughout his time there you playfully asked for a picture of him. You were sent a picture of your boyfriend with no shirt on, chasing around panda who had stolen said shirt, as Inumaki took a selfie.

He texted, ‘your boyfriend is a little busy.’ You would be laughing it off but when you zoom in you softly gasp at the sight of Yuuta.

He’s drenched in sweat, his toned body on full display. Maybe it’s the lighting or the sweat but his abs looked so rough, so sturdy.

Absentmindedly your thighs clench, chewing on your lip at the sight. Your thoughts were blowing through a mile a minute.

It’s not like you never saw his bare body before, your hands would always find his abs when he was on top of you or you were sucking him off. And they were hard, whenever they clenched beneath your fingertips.

You squirm in your panties, already feeling yourself growing wet at the all these thoughts. You let out a shuddering breath and your boyfriend walks in through the door, causing you to quickly exit out of the picture. God only knows how long you’ve been staring at it.

“Hi baby!” He quips walking over to you and planting a kiss on your temple.

“I’m gonna shower, then we can watch our tv show ok?”

You nod, blinking at the tv in front of you. Yuuta comes out of the shower soon enough and you haven’t been paying attention to the show in front of you at all. You were definitely going to have to watch back.

“Babe?” You snap out of it, gazing up at your boyfriend as his face laces with concern. His big hand drapes over your thigh, rubbing it comfortingly.

“Are you okay?” He tilts his head and you gulp.

You avert your eyes, already growing embarrassed. Yuuta always found your flushed state cute. The way your cheeks turned pink and your cheeks puffed out just a little. He grabs your chin, tilting it up to face him.

“What’s wrong hm?” His big blue eyes blinking at you. You wanted to voice your new idea, but you felt bad that he had already took a shower, not wanting to dirty your boyfriend.

“Nothing s’fine Yuu.” You smile, turning back to the tv.

He narrows his eyes, his lips teasingly moving to your neck, placing a playful chomp on your skin. You squeal your hands shooting up to his shoulders.

“Dont lie to me.” He says almost as a warning and he can feel your whole body exceeding with heat.

“Um I was just thinking about something.” You mumble and his elbows move to rest on the sides of your hips, his lips placing kisses down your stomach. You squirm and he smirks, peeking his head from under your shirt to look back at you.

“What were you thinking about?” He says a little too innocently, you whine, staring at the ceiling.

“Come on tell me please?” You cave at his words, with a shaky sigh you tell him.

“I-I wanna ride your abs.” You cover your face and he perks up.

“L-Like you know when you made me grind on your thigh? I wanna do that with your abs.” You ramble out and fuck.

He’s already growing hard at the thought of you on top of him.

“We can do that.” He smiles, standing up and reaching for your hand. You shyly take it as he leads you to the bedroom.

He walks backwards as his legs hit the edge of the bed, sitting down. He pulls you on top of him but not without connecting your lips first.

They moved together so perfectly, he knew you were made just for him. His hands glide down your body, his hand rubbing you through your already soaked panties.

You moan, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“Yuu.” You whine and he smirks against your neck. Sucking and biting, claiming you as his.

“You’re so wet honey. Have you been thinking about this the whole time?” You nod dumbly, already grinding down against his hand.

“My poor baby, look at you hump my hand. Thought you wanted to get off on my abs?” He teases and you whine.

“I do!”

Your hands move to rip off his t-shirt, and moves to pull your panties down. He’s laid against the bed now, big hands sliding along your waist, guiding you up and over his abdomen.

Your eyes are lidded with lust, your chest heaving. Your hands shoot out on his chest, gliding your folds right against his toned stomach.

You gasp, juices coating his whole stomach. Yuuta watches you closely, you’re already shaking, small whines and moans leaving you as you get off on him.

“God you’re so pretty, so warm too.” He praises and you whine.

“Yuu help me please.” You pout as your thighs begin to burn.

“Of course baby.” He grins sitting up, you gasp at how much harder they felt, giving your clit the perfect pressure.

“O-Oh my god!” You moan loudly, shoving your face in his neck. You lick and suck and he hisses, almost growling as he moves you faster against him.

“Y-Yuu so close..” You moan in his ear.

“That’s good, cum for me like the good girl you are yea?” He whispers in your ear and when the words leave his mouth he’s flexing his abs. You’re thrashing in his arms as he grinds you down harder and faster.

“F-Fuck!” You squeal your high washing over you in an instant.

Your juices shoot out and everywhere on his stomach, coating the bed and his pants. Yuuta is overstimulating you at this point, feeling your clit spasm against his stomach. You drool against his shoulder, going limp in his arms.

He pulls you off of him, setting you up on the bed. Your eyes are almost closed and he grinds his hard on against your thigh.

“You can go for one more round right baby?” He whispers in your ear, kissing and nibbling it.

Yuuta loved pleasuring you a little too much.

Can you blame him though?

He just wants to make his sweet girl feel good♡.

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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

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Sanemi finding out you pretended to be a boy in order to get trained properly and him falling head over heels for you after

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 4,2k

Synopsis: If there's one thing you always hated, it was being underestimated. Because you're nothing but a petite girl in the eyes of every other demon slayer you stumbled upon with even the sound hashira going easy on you. They left you no choice but to pretend that you're a boy in order to finally get the training you deserve. Little did you know it will be the wind hashira himself who uncovers your dirty secret...

Warnings: it's Sanemi so language, the bonus scene is for those of you who are in desperate need of some spice (no direct smut), last part not proofread because this needs to be published and I'm tired lol

Thank you sooo much for that super cool request, @xxx-oneofthegirls-xxx, I hope you like what I came up with (also, you made me listen to one of the girls nonstop while writing this hehe)

You stare at your foreign reflection in the mirror, cheeks still burning. This looks ridiculous and you know it, your plan so plain and stupid that you regret your decision more and more with each passing second.

But you have to do this.

“Don’t overwork yourself, (y/n). You’ll rest here while the others run a few extra miles.”

“But Tengen-sama, I-“

“Here, let’s get you something to eat!”, Suma cried out.

“You’re overworking that poor woman, Tengen-sama”, Mako commented dryly.

“I already told her to take a break!”

Because without pretending that you’re a boy, they’ll never take you seriously. Not when you’re a petite girl, not when everyone treats you like porcelain because of your small frame and gender. You came her because you’re ready to fight, because being a demon slayer is your true destiny. You want to get trained hard, you urge to surpass yourself each and every day.

You stare at your eyes filled with determination in the mirror. Therefore, you need to make sure they see nothing but a normal boy in you.

It’s hard to breathe properly with countless bandages tied around your chest in order to hide your feminine curves to their eyes. Carefully, you tie a ribbon around the ends of your hair and pull them up. Good, now your hair is about shoulder-length. A plain hairband that is convincing enough as a sweat band turns your usual longer hair into a temporary short cut.

Is this enough? Will the mist hashira actually believe you?

Confidently, you change into the uniform you stole from a boy nearby earlier and grab your katana. There is no other way than finding out.

“Where’s that little girl? Didn’t Tengen-sama allow her to continue?”

“Huh, you mean the little wallflower? I bet she gave up when she saw what hashira training really means. She wasn’t even strong enough to hold a sword.”

Your heart drops to the floor while your eyes automatically look down in panic and distress. Everyone underestimates you over the sheer fact that you’re a girl. But why? Why would you give up? Why is everyone thinking you aren’t strong enough when women like Shinobu Kocho show them how it’s done? You didn’t train since you were 4 to get reduced to your gender and height.

No, you’ll show them soon enough how good you really are and that you’re no one to be messed with.

“Look at him!”

“Who is that guy?”

“He fights as good as Tanjiro!”

“I’ve never seen him around. Do you know him?”

And you did. Training after training, hashira after hashira. Somehow, you surpassed them all. Despite your small frame, your disadvantage towards the boys with their ability to move freely in the scorching hot sun, you made it.

“It seems like you’re decent handling your sword. I have no use for you here anymore”, Obanai proclaims dryly.

You…you did it? You’ve been here for 3 days, spent the first day tied to a wall while getting smacked by some useless comrades. But you really convinced him, the serpent hashira, the man a lot of the others were so afraid of.

Your heart jumps up and down in excitement. You convinced him.

“Thank you”, you mumble in reply with deepened voice.

“Let’s see how you’ll keep up with Shinazugawa. Now get lost.”

Shinazugawa? You’ve heard that name before. Is this…the wind hashira? Your eyes widen as you sprint down the forest in the merciless sun. If Iguro Obanai is considered rough, Sanemi Shinazugawa has to be a menace. You heard from countless slayers that went back home as soon as they arrived at his estate, some beaten up so badly that they needed treatment.

For days.

You swallow hard. If this man finds out that you’re not who you pretend to be, you’ll be dead. But you have no other choice. After everything you’ve been through, you won’t give up because of the wind hashira’s bad reputation.

“How’s training going?”, Sanemi mumbles while staring into the distance.

“All of them are trash. There’s only one that is decent, though”, Obanai replies dryly.

“Don’t tell me it’s that Kamado brat-“

“No, I’ve never seen that boy before. No one seems to know who he is. He’s pretty small for his age and acts even weirder than the others but I can’t deny that he’s skilled. Even Kanroji…praised him”, Obanai presses out.

He’ll definitely never forget you for taking up the space of a full hand-written site in her note to him.

“You all went too easy on him, then. I’ll mop the floor with his ass when he gets to me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. There it is, the estate of the wind hashira. Only him and the stone hashira are left. Only these two until you’re able to drop your false identity and use your newest skills in a real fight. When you’re done here, you’ll finally be able to protect your village properly. No demon will ever hurt your friends and family again.

You just have to get through a few more days of training. A few more days with the wind hashira…

-two days later-

“Get lost, brats”, Sanemi barks out in sheer frustration.

Are these losers really supposed to be useful in a fight against Kibutsuji? They aren’t even good enough to hold their wooden sword correctly, let alone find the right stance to fight. God, this is such a waste of time, so fucking annoying that he smashes his own wooden sword into the ground roughly.

“Fucking useless rabble”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

When his blurry sight catches yours, he’s even more infuriated. He really thought the other pillars were too gentle with you. You, with your thin and small frame, with your innocent eyes that almost make you look like a girl. And while you look like the biggest loser of this whole corps, you manage to fight better than all the others.

“Enough of this bullshit, we’re using real swords now”, Sanemi barked at you while already grabbing his sharp katana.

“Fine.”

You didn’t storm towards him, didn’t act out of confidence or rage. You stayed so calm that Sanemi didn’t know how to act for the split of a second.

The split of a second. This minor moment was enough for you to lift your blade and scratch his cheek ever so slightly.

“Did he…Just hit the wind hashira?”

“This can’t be true. A strange guy like him, hitting one of the most powerful demon slayers?”

“You…You have some fucking nerve, little brat! I’ll make you pay for this!”

Oh, how often he tormented you. Made you stand up in the middle of the night for a fight, forced you to stand up against all your comrades. He pushed you over your limit over and over, made you suffer in a way he never did before.

But you still stand your ground. Still, you grab your wooden sword and follow the others inside at dawn as if nothing happened.

And it simply drives him insane.

“You, little brat!”

“Yes, Shinazugawa-sama?”

Your guts turn in an instant. In contrast to the other hashira training, this feels like a trip to hell and back. It almost seems as if the wind hashira made it his mission to let you suffer more than anyone else. What have you done to deserve his anger? Did you act out of line, aloof? It has to be the fact that you injured his cheek during your fight…

“Never mind. Get out of my sight.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. Instantly, you turn on your heels and make your way to dinner. Maybe you’ll finally have to chance to wash yourself tonight. With all those unexpected training sessions and the wind hashira torturing you until far past midnight, you didn’t even find the time to take a bath. Urgh, you can’t wait to finally take those bandages off and to wash your itchy scalp. All that sweating without the relief of a jump in the cool lake nearby is definitely hard to endure.

But tonight. Tonight you’ll finally get the chance to escape the merciless gaze of Sanemi Shinazugawa.

He doesn’t know what keeps him up tonight. Is it the full moon that lights his room, his still enraged heart? It’s still hard to believe that you’re acting up like this, that you manage to hit him. Out of all the jerks he trained, why does it have to be the smallest and therefore weakest one?

Maybe all he needs is letting his anger out on you. Sanemi storms into the dormitory wearing nothing but a casual yukata. He might hunt you around the lake for a few rounds or lets you practice your sword bows until you turn blue-

But his eyes don’t get greeted by your hair sticking out underneath you’re blanket.

“Where the hell are you, brat?”, he hisses to himself.

“This feels like heaven”, you moan to yourself while you dip your head into the cool water.

You never cared about getting covered in mud or dried blood sticking to your skin. But oh, the feeling of cleaning yourself up again after a rough day is just unmatched. Gently, your fingers brush through your wet hair, free yourself from all the dirt of those last days.

When will you be able to return? After that, only the stone hashira is left. How did you manage to land all the way over here? Hiding behind the identity of a boy no one know in order to get treated equally. Your efforts were definitely worth it. With those countless new techniques you’ve learned, you’ll finally be able to stand up against the demons that haunt down your village on a regular basis. Finally, you’ve got the education you deserved.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

All color drains from your face in an instant. You don’t have to look past his knees to know who stays right in front of you. Why didn’t you hear him coming? How did he manage to show up in front of you without you noticing?

“S-Shinazuwaga-sama”, you breathe out.

It doesn’t matter how he found you. With your hair open and your upper body barely covered by the water, he already saw through your well-hidden secret. Or better said, your lie.

“You’re so dead.”

You can’t escape. In the matter of seconds, he is with you in the water and grabs your wrists roughly.

“You lied into our faces this whole time?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I had to-“

“You’re nothing but a little girl!”

“You left me-“

“What else do you have to hide? Are you even a demon slayer? I’m totally in the mood to kill you right on the spot-“

“YOU LEFT ME NO CHOICE”, you finally blurt out.

“No choice? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“Tengen-sama treated me like porcelain because I’m a woman, but I didn’t want that! I wanted to train like the boys do, I wanted to suffer like everyone else! How am I supposed to become a decent swordswoman when everyone goes easy on me because of my gender!?”

“You…You lied to us.”

“I did.”

“You aren’t a guy.”

“I’m not.”

Thick silence hangs between both of you, only interrupted by sharp and heavy breaths. What now? Will he send you away in dishonor or even worse, exclude you from the corps completely? You’ve worked so hard to even get accepted, poured your heart and soul into those past days. All of this, vanishing in thin air?

“Please don’t send me away”, you finally press out.

“Are you dumb? Ain’t no way I’m letting you stay-“

“I can’t return home in dishonor. I did all of this to be able to protect my family and village. If I return home like this…”

You can’t finish your sentence, your throat suddenly feeling so tight that you even fail to breathe.

“Get out of my sight.”

“But I-“

“I said get out of my sight!”, he screams on top of his lungs.

You flinch backwards and almost trip into the water. Talking doesn’t do much. If you’re not leaving the next few seconds, he might drown you.

With a heavy heart you leave the water, carefully hiding behind a tree until you’re fully dressed again.

“What’s your real name?”, he shouts towards you harshly.

“My name is (y/n)”, you mutter, not daring to look into his cold eyes.

And then you stumble back. Back into the dormitory you know so well by now. Back into what might be the last night at the demon slayer corps for you.

“Remember that skilled guy you told me about?”, Sanemi mumbles while staring at the ground.

“Yeah. What about him?”

“It’s not him. She’s a fucking girl that pretended to be a guy.”

It still feels like a feverish dream. Why did nobody realize sooner? Not even himself…God, he’s such an idiot for not throwing you out instantly. You lied straight into his face, you lied to the whole demon slayer corps all this time. You deserve to leave, you deserve all that hatred and disgust.

“That’s actually quite impressive. How did you find out?”, Obanai comments dryly.

“I caught her bathing. Said she didn’t want to get differently because she’s a girl.”

Just the thought of seeing you there lit by nothing but moonlight, your long hair draped like a veil around you and your female curves he didn’t even know existed…

“That are some unexpected news. Do the others know?”

“I won’t tell ‘em. I’ll kick her out the corps when I return.”

“Why kicking her out? No matter if boy or girl, you can’t deny she’s the most promising one until now. Why not keeping her?”

“Keeping her?”, Sanemi repeats in sheer disbelief.

“Ain’t no way I’ll ever speak to a filthy little liar like her again.”

“Her plan worked, though. And I hate to admit it, but she did pretty good.”

Sanemi’s furious eyes dart towards Obanai in nothing but frustration. You fooled every single hashira until now. You hold so much potential that eventually…Would you survive as his tsugoko?

“I’ll leave”, he finally speaks out before turning his back on Obanai and storming away.

What the hell is he supposed to do?

How utterly dumb you feel sitting on that porch with your wet hair still open in the cool breeze far past midnight. You have no idea where he went, if he’s out to inform the head of the corpse about your behavior or even worse, your own family. Is it too early to pack your few belongings, to leave before he comes back? You definitely can’t stand another round of getting yelled at by the wind hashira.

“What are you doing here outside, brat?”

Fuck. He steps out of the darkness like an unpromising shadow with his face as hard as stone.

“I can’t sleep anyway”, you murmur.

“I’m so fucking mad at you for shitting me like this. Pretending you’re a guy while you’re just a girl.”

“I’m not just a girl”, you clarify sharply.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re a lying little brat but-“

He takes a deep breath in while sitting down next to you.

“But you’ve got what it takes. I’ve been looking for a decent tsugoko for quite some time now and-“

You can’t believe your ears. This man can’t possibly be the wind hashira you know by now, the man who looked like he’ll drown you any minute just a few hours ago. He can’t suggest to take you in as his tsugoko, right? There’s absolutely no way this man wants to train you on a regular basis-

“And maybe you’re that decent fit.”

Oh.

“Me, as your tsugoko”, you repeat his words in order to make them sound real.

“I’ll still kick your ass for lying into my face like that, though”, he adds aggressively.

Never in your life would you ever dreamed of being the apprentice of a hashira. You always worked hard, always made sure to develop your skills with everything you do, but being considered a tsugoko? Of the wind hashira, who never takes in a student? Who seems so rough and cruel but allowed you to handle your katana even better?

“I’d love that”, you finally breathe out.

“I’m beyond thankful you’re e-“

“Shut up immediately. A yes is enough. You’ll stay here with me, then.”

“Y-yes, Shinazugawa-sama!”

“No go to sleep, I can’t beat your ass when you’re tired”, he mumbles before getting up and leaving while your feelings are still over the place.

You, the tsugoko of Sanemi Shinazugawa?

-a few months later-

“Gimme your best shot now, brat!”, he barks at you.

Sweat runs down your forehead like a waterfall, your heavy panting tasting like blood. Just one more hit, one more strike and you’ll get him.

“Thunder breathing, fourth form-“

“Too slow”, he comments next to your ear.

Within the split of a second, you find yourself just inches away from the dirty ground with Sanemi’s arms keeping you from falling.

“Still not fast enough. Do it again.”

Mindlessly, he still drops you into the dirt with his sword casually draped over his shoulder.

You lift yourself off the ground with trembling limbs. There you are again, deep within your trip to hell and back. What you expected when agreeing on being the tsugoko of Sanemi Shinazugawa?

You grab the handle of your sword even tighter and storm towards just like you did hundreds of times before with the smallest of smiles creeping up your features.

Well, exactly that.

-steaming hot bonus: meeting in the lake at night-

You allow the cool water to caress your countless wounds gently. How good it feels to finally bathe every single day instead of once every few days. When the truth came out and everyone started to realize that you aren’t a boy, you regained a part of your freedom along with the merciless training of the wind hashira. Each and every day, he tortured you and others with his cruel training methods before you slide into the lake before the sun sets and go straight back to sleep.

Not today, though. It has to be almost midnight by now, the stars in the sky glimmering so magnificent that you can’t look away. Sanemi allowed you to visit your family and friends today. As you have learned, demon attacks have subsided since the sister of Tanjiro Kamado mastered the sun. And even though that means your loved ones will be safe, you can’t deny the slight turn of your guts. This means a war is around the corner, that Muzan Kibutsuji himself might come for all of you.

But this is nothing you should think about now. Not when you just returned and desperately longed for a bath. You dip your head into the cold water, moan to yourself as the water surrounds you fully-

“What the hell are you doing here, brat?”

Sanemi.

Out of instinct you cry out while burying everything except for your head inside the dark water. You’re butt-naked. How long has he been here already? And…has he seen you? Suddenly your whole body feels hot against the cool water around, cheeks turning dark red.

“Calm down, idiot-“

“How long have you been here already!?”

“What? I’m always taking a bath around this time. You’re the one who shouldn’t be here”, he clarifies dryly.

There he stands. Droplets of water run down his bare chest and almost make him shimmer in the moonlight. His wet hair stick to his face so delicately that you can’t force yourself to look away. He looks…hot.

Hot?

“I-uh…I just returned from…home”, you stutter.

“Hope your family is fine”, he mumbles along with slicking his hair back.

Within these past months, you’ve caught a glimpse of Sanemi you’ve never witnessed before. This man isn’t as cruel as everybody makes him look, his words aren’t always meant as harsh as they sound. Sanemi has a very tender side. Especially when his eyes soften for the blink of a moment, you couldn’t help but feel lost.

“They are. Apparently, the incidents with demons involved lessened when I departed”, you press out.

God, you’re acting ridiculous and you know it. Sanemi is your teacher, your training partner. Even though you’re living under the same roof (he even gave you an own room), there aren’t any romantical feelings between both of you.

“Good to hear. I’ll let you rest a little tomorrow morning. You have to be dead tired.”

“I’m fine”, you lie in an instant.

Truth is, you’re so drained out that the water is the only thing that’s able to keep your knees for failing you at the moment. Not only from your journey, but all those countless harsh training sessions, dueling yourself over and over with Sanemi and the others. But you’d never admit it, would never say it out loud.

“You’re probably the baddest liar out there. Your cheeks are red as hell, (y/n)”, Sanemi comments dryly.

You don’t dare to move when he stretches out his hand. Enough to gently caress your cheek, enough to cause an explosion in your stomach.

Did Sanemi just touch you? Tenderly?

“I…N-no…I…”

You can’t find the words. In fact, you are too distracted to care about something like words. Slowly but surely, he draws closer with his perfectly formed chest exposed to your hungry eyes.

“(y/n), I…There’s actually something I wanted…Well…Fuck!”

Is that really Sanemi Shinazugawa, stumbling over his own words? And why is it him who’s blushing at the moment?

These past few months made it really easy for you to actually respect the wind hashira. Not only his frightful skills when handling the sword, but just him. Him, when he’s brushing the fur of the cat that visits his estate from time to time. Him, when he tucks you into your blanket when assuming you’re already asleep. Him, when checking on you in his own unique way.

How ridiculous to even think about him like that, to even allow your heart to jump up and down in joy. But you can’t help yourself. Despite the way you despised him when the two of you first met, you really started to love this man with all your heart.

“(y/n), you’re a pretty decent women”, he begins again while drawing closer.

“Well, I…Thank you?”

A decent woman? Is that what he thinks about you?

“I still can’t believe you lied to me about being a girl, though”, he barks at you.

Oh.

You hate the way your heart drops. Were you really dumb enough so think he might have something to say, that he might tell you he has feelings for you as well? How ridiculous, how absolutely dumb.

“I think I should get going. It’s been a long day”, you mumble.

It’s probably the best to get away from here as soon as possible. But just when you start moving towards the shore, his hand grabs your arm tightly and twirls you around.

Right against his bare chest.

“Don’t you dare leaving now, brat”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I…there’s something I wanna tell you…”

“Why are you acting like a child?”, you finally spit at him yourself.

Oh, you’re having enough of all those ups and downs. Especially today, when you’re totally drained out already. You really don’t have the nerve for him to pick on you again, not when his last statement lies like a heavy stone in your stomach-

“Acting like a child?”, he challenges you.

Just before his lips crash into yours.

Longingly, Sanemi wraps his strong arms around you, devours you against his body while all you’re able to do is holding onto his broad shoulders for dear life.

This…is really happening, right? This is really Sanemi, pressing his lips against yours over and over again while your naked skin brushes against his?

“You’re fucking driving me insane, brat”, he mumbles against your lips before grabbing you even tighter.

“Since the moment I realized you aren’t a boy.”

He grabs you by your waist firmly, your naked skin rubbing against his sixpack almost making you lose everything that’s left of your self-control.

“I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your hands wander around his biceps, feel the deep valleys of his muscular back. God, this feels so good – almost too good to be true. But even if this is nothing but a dream, you’ll enjoy every minor movement, every sweet moment until you open your eyes again.

But when you do, you don’t find yourself in the comforting darkness of your room. No, his eyes glimmer like molten iron when staring down at you in the moonlight, his hot breath brushing against your wet face so seductive that you threaten to lose your balance.

“Still saying I’m acting like a child, brat?”

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teamatsumu · 8 months

Text

one or the other. (itadori yuuji/ryomen sukuna x reader)

summary: when yuuji might be too inexperienced to take care of you during your heat, sukuna steps in.

word count: 2050

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, alpha!yuuji, alpha!sukuna, omega!reader, fem!reader, smut, omegaverse jargon (heat, slick, knot, scent,mating), sukuna is an asshole, swearing

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

divider by @/cafekitsune

Usually, having the affections of two Alphas would be a real confidence booster for an omega. Managing to not attract one, but two potential mates? How flattering. But you were not sure this logic applied to you since the two Alphas you had attracted lived in the same body.

And they were the polar opposites of each other.

Yuuji was properly courting you. He bought you a delicate (but likely expensive) pendant, with a beautiful silver charm on it. He held doors for you, treated you to food whenever he could, and took you out on many, many dates. He really worked for your affections. And that made your heart soar.

Then there was Sukuna, who usually only manifested as a mouth on Yuuji’s cheek, but despite his small presence, really made himself known by being as vulgar about you as physically possible.

“You’re gonna go out smelling like that? An Alpha two miles away could catch your scent.”

“You look delicious, Omega. I should bend you over and fuck you right here.”

“When’s your next heat? You need a partner?”

“Tch. Still unmated. I would change that immediately.”

Yuuji would smack a palm against his cheek, muffling the mouth and one single eye that peeked down at you, apologizing profusely about how disrespectful Sukuna was being. You would shrug it off, not feeling threatened by the curse. You firmly believed he was being so vulgar because there was little else he could do. After all, he couldn’t take over unless Yuuji relinquished control over him.

You let Yuuji court you for three months before finally inviting him to help you with your heat. Usually, you were used to getting through it alone. But you trusted him by now, and you knew he was a capable Alpha. He would get you through it.

What you didn’t anticipate was just how much you would need out of him.

“Fuck,” you moaned, head tilted up to the ceiling. The feeling of Yuuji’s cock carving into your desperate pussy was intoxicating to you. You couldn’t believe how big he was, thick and heavy, throbbing as he plunged into you over and over. He was groaning into your neck, tongue lapping at your scent gland and sending shivers down your spine. His hips were steady and going strong, but you needed more. Your body needed more.

“F-faster,” you managed to gasp out. You angled your hips, trying as hard as you could to make Yuuji hit that one spot. It was so close, you could feel it. Like an itch just waiting to be scratched. You spread your legs wider, nearly whining when that didn’t help. Slick gushed from your hole as if your pussy was coaxing him to go deeper, to hit you where it mattered.

“Y-Yuuji, more.” You finally whined, and the noise made him tense. No Alpha liked to hear a yearning Omega, especially not one that they were trying to help. He lifted his head from your neck, his pupils blown but trained on your face. Your teary eyes made the Alpha in him growl and pace. While he wanted to fuck you to tears, he could tell these were from frustration.

He sped up again, with renewed vigor, trying everything he could to make sure you got what you wanted.

“You’re not doing it right.”

The voice made his hips stutter, rhythm collapsing. Your panting breaths halted, eyes widening and trained on his cheek. Yuuji nearly groaned.

“Go away.” He gritted out. This was the worst time for a snarky curse to insert himself into the situation.

“He ain’t fucking you right, Omega.” Sukuna now addressed you. You eyed the mouth, watching as the little slit below Yuuji’s eye opened to show you a red iris, peering down at you. “He’s not angling his hips right. Not going all the way, right? That’s what you want? To really get the daylights fucked out of you?”

Yuuji cursed and reached a hand up to muffle him, but you grabbed his wrist, making him stop. Startled brown eyes met yours.

“Wha-”

Sukuna cackled. “She wants me. Don’t you, Omega? Tell him. Give me control and I’ll show him how to really fuck an Omega in heat.”

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating. Yuuji’s eyebrows shot up, staring down at you in shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Please,” you tried to justify it. “I just- it hurts. It hurts and I want more so badly.” You reached shaky hands up to run over Yuuji’s cheeks, avoiding the mouth that had now fallen silent once he saw that things were going his way.

“Alpha,” you called for him, and Yuuji shuddered. The Alpha in him growled, and he wanted to give in immediately. Anything for his omega. Sukuna spoke up again.

“You let me do this and I will give you back control as soon as I’m done fucking her. Deal?”

Yuuji wanted to berate him for his words, but he doubted it mattered. That’s exactly what Sukuna was gonna do anyway. And that’s what you wanted.

“How can I trust you to give me back control?” He thought in his mind, knowing the curse could hear him.

“A deal is a deal. I know to honor my word.”

“No loopholes?”

“No loopholes. All I want is her.”

Yuuji looked down at you, at the apprehension on your pretty face. The tears had dried, but Yuuji was reminded that being an Alpha wasn’t enough. He needed to be an experienced Alpha. He needed to learn.

And so he sunk into his mind.

You nearly gasped when thin, black lines started to carve themselves onto Yuuji’s face, his eyes blinking open to reveal deep red irises, and his tight mouth pulling up into a carnal grin. All down his body, the marks appeared, accentuating his muscles and drawing attention to his broad chest. You felt a thrill run through you when Sukuna ran his stare down your naked figure, down until his eyes were on your pussy.

He tsked, curling a finger and letting the knuckle graze over your slit. You gasped.

“Poor little Omega.” His tone was teasing, condescending. “You want a thick Alpha knot so bad. Fucking whore.”

You felt your body heat up at his words, feeling a line of wetness run down your pussy. He grinned at the sight.

“This is what you really wanted. No Omega in heat wants to be treated nice. You need to be put in your place. Dicked down so good you can’t move for days.”

Yuuji’s cock, which had slipped out of you, was now slowly hardening again, and Sukuna tapped in against your clit, making you jerk. You bit your lip, feeling your desire build again. You had no idea that you enjoyed this kind of dirty talk so much, and you think a lot of it had to do with your heat. Sukuna was right. You needed to have every part of your body rearranged under his rough hands.

He reached down to bite at your shoulder, making you moan. His hands wandered to your breasts, pinching a nipple until it was painful, making your back arch. His cock ran over your folds, parting them to run through the wet mess between them. He prodded at your entrance and before you could react, slammed in with one long stroke.

You gasped and arched into him, gripping tightly at his biceps. But Sukuna was having none of it, one hand reaching for your wrists and pinning them above your head. The restrain on your mobility sent a thrill running down your spine, and Sukuna seemed to notice, his grin so sleazy you nearly came on the spot.

“You gonna be a good bitch and let me use you?”

You clenched around him hard. “Yes, Alpha.”

Sukuna pulled back all the way, before thrusting back in and setting a truly brutal pace. You arched into him, crying out when his cock smacked into your giddy pussy over and over, going so deep it almost hit your cervix. Almost. Toeing the line between pain and pleasure had you screaming and crying.

Sukuna let out his first groan, appreciative and low, making you keen at just the thought that your pussy pleased him. Your senses were clouding, body temperature rising even more as your heat intensified. Your primal instincts were taking over, making you desire nothing more than to submit to the Alpha before you. Sukuna’s free hand hooked under your knee, pulling it up until it was nearly bent to your chest, and the angle shifted.

You came right then, hard and fast.

You cried and jerked, helpless under the tight grip of the Alpha. His large frame towered over you, his cock fucking down into your pussy with no signs of slowing.

“Look at that.” He groaned, watching you come down from your high. “Good Omega, fuck. Think you can do that again?”

You nodded vigorously, teary vision barely focusing on the grin on Sukuna’s face. His hand released your wrists, instead grabbing your other leg and pulling it up until he had you pinned in a mating press. You wailed at the change in angle, his thick cock throbbing inside your weeping pussy. You were so wet that your slick made filthy noises as he slid in and out of you, hitting every spot right as he ruined your body. With his arms pinning your legs tight against your body, one large hand wrapped around your neck, tilting your head to the side until your scent gland, swollen and needy, showed proudly right before his eyes.

He groaned again, hips stuttering a little at the sight, and his mouth watered. He pushed deeper into you, making you cry out, legs shaking so much that you were certain you were ready to pass out.

“You gimme one work orgasm and I’ll give you a fat knot. You want that, Omega?”

You nodded, nails digging into his back. “W-want it. Please. Alpha.”

Sukuna stared at your neck. “And if I mark you? Make you mine forever? You wanna be my good little bitch for the rest of your life?”

You felt yourself clench at the thought, orgasm building in you as Sukuna fucked you with no reservations.

“Yes, yes.” Your mind soared at the thought. “Make me yours. Wanna be yours s-so bad. Please.”

He cackled a bit, nosing at the gland. His hips frantically smacked against yours over and over, and you could feel the swell of his cock right at the base. He was getting ready to knot you. At the thought, another orgasm barrelled hard into you, your body drawn so tight you nearly cried.

“Take it, Omega. Be a good girl and take everything-”

He swelled more, the base catching almost painfully against your hole, before he expanded rapidly and pressed hard into you, shoving the knot deep inside your pussy before flooding you with ropes and ropes of white hot cum. Sukuna loudly groaned, biting down against your neck until his teeth broke the skin and the metallic taste of blood hit his tongue. You felt another, mind-numbing orgasm rip through your body, weeping and crying through it as you relished in the burn of your neck and the heavy feeling of his load inside you.

Through blurry eyes, you watched as the black marks on his body faded away, and then a gentle tongue lapped at the mark on your neck, soothing the sting of the vicious bite. His knot hadn’t settled, still pumping cum inside you. Strong arms wrapped around your torso before turning your joined bodies around, laying you on top of him as you waited for the knot to deflate, while being careful not to jostle you too much.

Yuuji’s warm brown eyes met yours and he gave you a dopey smile.

“You are so beautiful.” You flushed at the compliment and he ran a thumb over your fresh mark, making you shiver. “And you’re all mine.”

Your lips twitched up into a smile. Despite your heat clearing, you didn’t regret your decision to mate with him at all. Yuuji was the perfect gentleman, the perfect Alpha. And whatever he lacked, Sukuna made sure to cover for.

So really, you were an Omega who had two Alphas.

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loganbcrnes · 1 month

Text

Mine

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x female!reader

Tags/Warnings: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Rough Sex, Dom/sub, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Logan (X-Men), Feral Behavior, Rut Sex, mention of frank castle, Explicit Sexual Content, Breeding, Impregnation, Marking, Blow Jobs, Logan has a big cock, and hes very hairy yes, Reader-Insert Authors note: originally posted this on my ao3, but decided to just upload the full one-shot here as well. link. Not beta'ed and no description of reader Summary: Logan unexpectedly goes into rut and you're there to help him through it.

You had no idea what you were anticipating when Logan came home from work. Before he left in the morning, he was acting stranger than normal. His temper was short, his motions were labored, and he wasn’t himself. His scent was also stronger than normal. It didn’t take you long to realize something was wrong, the bond felt stronger between you two like it was during the war and before you even began to make lunch, you received a text from your Logan.

Logan: I don’t want you to be alarmed, but I think I’m in rut.

This caught you by surprise. Most alphas these days didn’t get ruts and omegas didn’t get heats either. Just like they’re becoming rarer as time goes by. it’s sad really, back before the war, before Hydra - you were able to go into heat. You always spent it alone back in the 30s, you even got time off from your part-time job as a nurse when you were temporarily staying in Ireland. Logan could go into ruts too before Project X. during the war you both would help each other out, which led to you both bonding until the train mission fucked all of that up.

But now it’s 2021, over 70 years have gone by and 3 years since The Snap. You are forever thankful that both you and Logan survived it. You don’t know what you would have done if your beloved alpha was taken away from you once again. Since then you both decided to get a nice cabin in the mountains to get away from everything. You both were done fighting, tired of constantly losing people you loved.

Logan got a job in construction in town about an hour away. So he didn’t usually come home until around 6 pm. You were thankful when you got the news that Frank Castle and his pack of alphas were moving a few miles away from your cabin a few months ago. You know it can get isolated in this area, so to have friends that you consider family to come and visit was nice.

There was no time to think about the next course of action though, it was clear what you had to do and something you thought you wouldn’t ever do again. Logan would be back in about half an hour, which gave you time to set up the room and go for a nice shower.

You immediately went into one of the cupboards in your walk-in wardrobe for blankets. Logan didn’t necessarily like making nests, he always said and his quote: “ya’ don’t need to make those things no more lady, you use your alpha.” in his deep gruff tone. So you resorted to cuddling at least 2 times a day instead and he would fuck you into the mattress just how like it every time.

Once you got a mattress onto the floor with a ton of blankets and pillows littered onto it, you went into the bathroom and stripped down. You cleaned up and once you were done, you slipped on a white silky nightie that reached down to your thighs. After that you got some nice cold water bottles to put beside the nest. As you were done you heard the door click open.

Logan could smell you before he even got out of his truck. His heightened senses were even more sensitive and he could smell just how wet you already were. All he could think about was knot, breed, mate- over and over as he got closer to the door.

It was rather embarrassing when he started to sweat and get a hard-on on his lunch break. He didn’t understand at first, but then recognized the symptoms to be a rut. Thankfully Frank was there to get him to leave, but damn did that hurt his ego a little.

Once he entered he was hit again with your strong scent. It was so sweet, sweeter than usual that he was beginning to think that maybe his rut could trigger your heat. He sure hoped so. Your scent was a mixture of roses and strawberries, he used to hate strawberries before he met you, but now it’s one of his favourite fruits.

You looked up from your iPad as Logan walked in and put down his backpack. “Hey,” you said as you got up, but were cut off by a squeak when he immediately jumped you. He picked you up by your thighs, making his way to your bedroom, his lips never leaving your neck. He nipped and sucked little bruises into your soft flesh. He put you down gently onto the mattress and started groping your breasts.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day, Darlin’”. Logan growls as he starts kissing down the valley between your breasts. He pulled back and slipped off your nightie, revealing your breasts and wet cunt. You blushed and looked away, but your alpha immediately notices. “Hey, no looking away from your alpha now,” Logan says as he grips your jaw to look back at him.

“Sorry, Alpha” you shyly say. Logan only grunts back in reply as he stares down at you. You grip at his clothes, “off, please” you whine at him. Logan immediately starts to strip down, you stare at his glorious beefy body as he takes off his pleated shirt and jeans. Your eyes traveled the trail of hair down to his already hard cock. You lick your lips wanting to taste so badly.

Logan notices as smirks, he leans back down to press his lips against yours, just as a whimper escapes through your lips, giving you a smoldering kiss which leaves you breathless within seconds, distracting you as he continues to run his hand up and down the curves of your body, getting closer to your sensitive parts.

You are gasping for breath when he pulls away, and in your complete haze, you watch him as he slowly climbs down your body, his lips never leaving your skin as he trails his hot kisses on you all the way down. He parts your legs further so he could get more comfortable between them, then when he presses a kiss at your nether lips, his fingers parting your folds so he could find your slick entrance and give a long, hungry lick right at where your desire is centered until you cry out. “Taste so fucking sweet ‘mega”. Logan growls as he licks your clit. You hear him moan and you open your eyes to look down at him, to see that his eyes are closed, totally blissed out as he sucks on your cunt, licking your entrance. You feel the hard tips of Logan’s fingers right at your opening, you moan when you feel two fingers parting your hot pussy, your walls instantly begin spasming around them, sucking them inside your depth.

“So hot, baby,” Logan growls, his warm breath falling on your sensitive folds as he whispers between the kisses he is giving you right at your heated core. “I’ve wanted to taste you since I could smell your sweet scent before I even got outta my car.”

You can’t think straight, you’re totally blissed out and your mind is filled with alphalphabreedmatealphabreed constantly, you reckon he has triggered your heat, but you don’t even realize and neither does he. His cock is stiff and swollen, you notice the center of his length has a bulge, showing that his knot is starting to form. Your cheeks begin to heat up realizing that you’re doing this to your alpha.

You go deeper and deeper into submission, surrendering yourself to your alpha, letting him know he can use you however he wants. Logan feels everything you feel, your bond is so strong that it’s overwhelming for the both of you.

He continues to tease you with his fingers for a few more seconds and then the warm rasp of his tongue sends a series of shivers trembling through your body. He licks across your sensitive bud leisurely, biding his time with his eyes on you to take in every single reaction you are giving him through every lick, every swirl of his tongue. He has never seen anything so beautiful. He flicks his tongue from around your clit, down to your slit, moving back and forth as he continues to plunge his fingers into you. You begin to shake as you are nearing the edge.

He must have felt it, because he continues to lick at your cunt, slick pouring out as he slurps it all up, growls deeply against your pussy. “Come for me, little mate.”

You let out a whimper at his command but feel helpless to resist him. You can’t hold it in anymore as you come to your release. “Alpha!”. You moan out as you arch your back, Logan continues to milk through your orgasm and makes sure to gather every drop of cum.

Once you come down from your high, Logan pulls back and climbs up the bed kneeling right beside your head. Keeping one hand at your chin, he raises your head up as he uses the other hand to pump his cock, aiming the crown tip on your swollen lips. “Go and put your pretty mouth to use, Darlin’,” Logan says. A drop of pre-cum leaks from the slit, making you drool at the taste, while the heady scent of his cock fills your senses as you breathe him in.

You eagerly nod, barely catching a breath from your strong orgasm, he slips his cock through your open mouth, wanting to satisfy your alpha.

Groaning, Logan reaches down and squeezes your nipple as he thrust in and out of your mouth with almost the same force he would use if he is deep inside your pussy.

“Love these tits of yours baby, love to see them jiggle when I fuck your tight cunt” Logan continues to grope your tits as he dirty talks. He thrusts into your mouth hard and you moan at his words, cheeks reddened at how dirty he’s making you feel.

You suck the entire length of him each time, loving the feel of the head of his cock at the back of your throat. Using his other hand, Logan grabs onto your hair, keeping you steady as he plunges deeper inside your mouth, pummelling deep into your throat each time he reaches to the brim.

His heavy balls filled with seed, slaps against your chin, loving the sensation and feeling dirty all at the same time. You dig your nails into his thigh with one hand and into the sheets with the other, holding on tightly as your lover uses your mouth for his pleasure. “So fucking good, baby. Always taking my fat cock so well. Look at you choking on it” Logan rambles as he thrusts into your mouth. He groans as you suck hard. You continue to choke as his knot is forming.

Logan’s cock falls out of your mouth with a pop. The spasms of your climax remain. You close your eyes trying to catch your breath. You feel movement and blankets being moved on the mattress. After a few minutes, you feel a hand caress your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ears. You open your eyes to see Logan, his pupils are dilated to the point you only almost only see black. “You okay, Honey?” Logan asked. He leans down to press soft kisses to your cheeks and down to your neck. You hum as you lean into his touch, “Want you now Lo”. you said, “please knot me, need it so bad”.

You’re a whimpering mess now, grinding your clit against Logan’s muscular thigh. Logan growls as he pulls back, he grabs a hold of your hips, flipping you over so that you're laying with your chest pushed flush against the mattress, legs bent, and the knees with your ass and pussy on full display. Your smell consumes him; all that he can think about is the taste of your arousal on his lips and how badly he needs to be inside you now.

His long fingers trace your slit as arousal floods from your entrance, coating your slick on his fingertips. Anticipation pangs at your chest as you wait for his next move. Everything in him wants to drive his hardened cock into you and knot you full of his seed.

Logan’s eyes screwed shut as he brings a finger up to his mouth, basking in the taste of you. A wanton moan erupts from his lips at the taste – so perfectly sweet he would never be able to get enough.

Dire thoughts rush through your mind as you rest on your elbows, face turned to the side to try and see Logan out of your peripheral vision. His pupils are completely blown, eyes focused only on your center as his chest heaves in anticipation. “Please Alpha, breed me, I’m ready,” you say to him.

Logan is always less talkative during sex and now that he’s in his rut and possibly gone feral, his mind is screaming to him to knot and breed your tight cunt, to the point he can’t form words.

His hand is quick to line himself up with your entrance, grasping onto your hips with such pressure that it is sure to leave bruises tomorrow, even with your fast healing. Sharp fingernails dig into your skin as his tip meets your entrance. It’s fiery and red, inflamed and veins popping out alongside his length from how hard he is. The precum that leaks from his tip coat your slit, combining with the wetness dripping down your thighs to create a delicious mixture.

One last reassuring squeeze of your side is all he gives before pushing into you ruggedly. A sharp gasp leaves your lips as he makes his way into your core, feeling the familiar sensation you felt back during the war. His size is bigger, so much thicker and longer than his normal length when he is not in rut. It’s a lot to take in at once, and he’s trying his best to let you relax as your body adjusts to his size.

“You can move,” you say, lip caught between your teeth as your walls stretch further around him.

With your fists grasping for the sheets, Logan begins thrusting his hips slowly into you– holding out a second each time he bottoms out to let you breathe. His nails only dig into your sides further, barely giving him a grip onto reality to hold back his animalistic instincts.

Deep grunts leave his mouth as he tries to hold himself back, but he can feel his humanity slipping further and further away with each clench of your pussy. His heavy balls slap against your clit.

“Can’t hold back much longer,” he bares his teeth, “need to breed you now.”

You moan out loud “please, please alpha, need you to fill me up with your pups” you continue to beg him.

Quickly, his hips snap into yours, his thick muscles flexing as he holds your body steady, fucking into you deeply. Breath is sucked out of you as his pace increases; stars forming at the back of your eyelids as you squeeze them shut, mouth salivating at the increasing pleasure bestowing upon you. His length is a lot to get used to again, even though Logan tried to avoid knotting you back then because you both didn’t have enough time, there were times when he would sneak into your sleeping quarters to knot you in the middle of the night, his hand pressed against your mouth to reduce your loud moans as he thrusts his large cock into you; but the everlasting pressure against your g-spot was making the pain melt away.

Logan thrusts in and out of your pussy effortlessly, your slick coating his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your velvety walls. With each thrust, he bottoms out, and it becomes difficult for you to remain upright. Limbs shaking from pleasure, your elbows begin to give way, landing you flat against the mattress.

Your mouth opens, but the only thing able to escape is a silent scream, too immersed in the feeling of him battering your walls and hitting your cervix to make a sound. A loud moan leaves your lips as he pulls you back up, his arms wrapping around your waist to use all his strength to hold you in position. His sweaty hairy chest is pressed flush against your back, the heat radiating off his body soothing you as his mouth meets your ear. A quick nip is placed on your earlobe as he catches it between his teeth.

“Taking me so well.”

He says in his deep voice. The praise quickly soothes your nerves, helping you relax into him as he holds your body close, closer than you had ever felt to him before. His tip is repeatedly hitting against the sensitive spot deep inside of you, you know he’s not ready to let up just yet, but you’re too on edge to hold on.

“Logan I-I’m gonna–”

“I can smell it,” he groans, mouth meeting your bond mark as he sucks harshly on it.

A string of cuss words falls from your lips as your eyes clamp shut, relishing in your release as your pussy spasms around his cock. His movements don’t slow either – his pace is still erratic, plummeting into you at an ungodly rate.

Feeling your release over him only makes him thrust harder, deeper. It sends him into a full-blown frenzy, unable to keep himself from chasing his high. “Smells so sweet, gonna breed you, Baby, have you pumped up with my pups. Gonna look so sexy with your tits filled with milk and your pregnant belly.” he rambles, the more he talks dirty the closer you get to the edge.

And you knew what this meant. You both finally have a chance to have children. Something you have always wanted when you first got together with Logan. Before meeting him, you never had high hopes to find a man and have a child or two. You were insecure and no one wanted a 26-year-old virgin omega. Especially since omegas were looked down upon back then.

But that time is over now, you're with the love of your life 70+ years into the future and everything you have ever wanted is here right now.

“God, do it, Logan, please knot me,” the words slip between cries, still shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, “Breed me.”

So he does.

His eyes slam shut as his mouth finds the crook of your neck, breaking the flesh as his sharp teeth sink into your skin, reclaiming you once again. Screams blow past your lips as blood begins to trickle from the wound on your shoulder. Your chest tightens in pain, loving and hating the sensation all at once. Relief takes over once his tongue meets the small incisions made on your skin, his saliva filling the holes and alleviating the wounds as he licks up the blood.

“That’s it ‘mega. Doing so good for me. So perfect.”

Your heart flutters at his claim, have never felt as close to him as you do right now. Firecrackers lit through your veins, the connection between you and Logan binding stronger than ever and you couldn’t be happier. It felt like you were floating in thin air. Your body is unable to focus on any pain right now, you’re too blissed out from the shock of him reclaiming you to notice how his cock is beginning to swell inside of you.

Cum shoots out of his member, filling you up to the brim until your abdomen begins to feel heavy and swell. That floating feeling quickly begins to fade as his orgasm keeps coming and coming, no inch of your insides gone untouched by his seed. It seems like it's never going to end, and you can feel the pressure from his release building and building inside of you. Your sensitive walls stretch as his cock expands, your body doing the job it’s supposed to; knotting to plug you up and make sure none of his cum drips out.

“Logan,” you whine, tears spilling from your eyes as his cock continues to inflate inside of you, “Logan it kinda hurts.”

“Shhh It’s almost over, baby,” he comforts you, stroking your hair before guiding you onto your side, laying behind you. After such a rough round, his familiar touch eases your pain. The light kisses he places along your spine let you sink back into him, focusing on the feeling of his soft lips instead of the balloon-sized cock stretching your vagina. Gentle hands trace circles up and down your arms as you listen to the sound of his calming breath. His chest heaves as he tries to come down from the adrenaline rush.

Soft kisses soon turn into small licks running over the length of your back as you lay there, still speared on his cock. Now that his animalistic needs were met, it was all about you.

“What are you doing?” you frown slightly.

“Cleaning you up,” he answers calmly, his even more heightened senses finding nothing strange with this new method of aftercare. You’re too immersed in your thoughts to question him any further; if this is what his alpha side was telling him to do then so be it.

As Logan’s knot begins to subdue he doesn’t let go. His tongue soothes over the spot of his mark, all red, but could see the bond mark more visible than it was before.

“Do you really think this will work?” you ask Logan. You don’t know what you will do with yourself if you aren’t able to get pregnant by this. “It will trust me, Darlin’. And if it doesn’t, we’ll try again and again until it does,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m so happy you’re mine after all these years.”

Butterflies flutter in your tummy as a smile stretches across your face. All you want to do right now is to turn around and kiss him, so you do. His face is just as bright as yours when you meet his eyes. His hair is messy and his skin is shining with perspiration, but he looks handsome as ever. He welcomes your kiss like he’s been waiting for it all day. Mouth chasing after your lips, capturing them in a quick kiss before pulling away.

It's the first time he’s seen your eyes since you’ve gotten home, and even then he couldn’t appreciate them as he could now. There's a different glow that he didn’t notice before. Maybe it's because he’s reclaimed you and knotted you after all these years, but he is willing to do anything and everything for you.

“I love you,” you sigh, pressing your palm to his cheek. He looks so innocent now, the blackness in his eyes now faded back to the hazel color you love so much. All the years and pain he’s been through, disappeared.

“And I love that you’re mine.”

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felinecyan · 3 months

Text

Reality of Realizations

[Shoto Todoroki x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After the Sports Festival, Shoto comes to realize just how awful his behavior was, and he’s determined to make things right.

WC: 3559

Category: Mega Fluff, Awkward!Shoto

This idea smacked me to my keyboard at 3 am and took me hostage until I finished it… I hope you enjoy it!! ☺️🫶

『••✎••』

In the beginning, Shoto didn’t feel guilty. He felt indifference. To him, U.A. was about succeeding his father without his father’s side of his bloodline, the fire part of his quirk. Everything was about becoming a hero that wasn't like Endeavor. Everything was about getting stronger without using fire.

Friendships weren’t his concern. In fact, he didn't give them much thought at all. He didn’t feel like they would be beneficial to his cause.

For some reason, though, you wanted to be around him. Maybe it was because you saw something in him, some type of potential that even he didn’t recognize. Or maybe you just had a lot of energy that needed to be spent, and being around him was your only means of releasing it. Either way, you never left him alone. You followed him, sat next to him in class, and asked him about his quirk.

And with his current mindset, he was rather annoyed with your persistence. He knew he could handle it himself. He could do well in school and become a great hero without any help. You were a distraction to his goal, and he was not having it.

When you first tried to start a conversation, Shoto looked straight ahead. His gaze remained fixed on the whiteboard. If you continued to be persistent, he would snap at you. It was a guarantee.

As much as he wouldn’t like to admit, sometimes the father-son resemblance would shine through.

You tried again, asking him what his favorite food was. When he didn’t answer, you shrugged and turned your head toward the window—another failed attempt.

Your attempts only increasingly became more annoying as time went on. The same questions, the same responses, and the same outcome:

An angry Todoroki who just wanted to be left alone.

But it wasn't until the Sports Festival that things changed for him. Midoriya helped him realize that his father wouldn’t define him, but his own choices would. It was enlightening, and after their fight, he felt a strong sense of respect for the green-haired boy.

And due to that awakening, he realized just how absolutely rude he had been toward you.

You were one of his classmates, a person who was in the same school as him, training to be a hero just like him. You were someone who deserved respect, and he didn’t treat you the way you should have been.

That guilt settled in.

He was a horrible person.

He had to make up for it.

And, no, a simple apology would not be enough. He needed to go the extra mile and show you that he meant what he said and that he was truly sorry.

The question was, how?

He knew little about you. He never spoke to you, not in the way you had tried speaking to him, so how would he know your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite animal? How would he know what kind of flowers or sweets you liked?

How could he make you happy when he was the one who hurt you in the first place?

He thought long and hard. He pondered and pondered, trying to think of what you could possibly enjoy, but his mind would draw a blank.

So, he did the only thing he could think of: he asked Midoriya for help. The green-haired boy had that entire notebook dedicated to all the quirks every classmate had, so surely it could give him some insight into how to approach you.

Surely, it would help.

After class, Todoroki went over to Midoriya. He kept his hands in his pockets, and he looked the other way, not quite wanting to see Midoriya's expression.

Needless to say, he was absolutely surprised when Todoroki asked him for help. Surprised and absolutely delighted. The way he started bouncing in his seat with the biggest smile on his face made Todoroki want to reconsider the offer. But before he could retract, Midoriya already had his notebook out.

He flipped through a few pages, his finger stopping when he found your name. Honestly, it was unnerving just how many notes were dedicated to each individual.

Midoriya read your likes and dislikes; apparently, they were all through observation and not from you telling him. Maybe if Todoroki wasn’t so mean to you, then he would‘ve known what you liked, too.

He figured you had to make it obvious for Midoriya to write it down, right? There’s no way Midoriya would be able to figure out that information from just watching.

Then again, his analysis was pretty spot on. He knew what your personality was; he dealt with it firsthand. Of course, at the time, he didn't think too much about it. All he thought was how much he wanted you to leave him alone. Now, however, he wanted you to ask him those questions.

He wanted to be your friend.

He learned that you loved reading books. Not only that, but you loved flowers. Not the typical roses or sunflowers, but the less popular flowers. The type of flower that not a lot of people would think of when thinking about the beauty of a flower.

You also loved sweets, mostly anything with the word "chocolate" in the name. You had a sweet tooth, and it was very apparent.

Todoroki didn’t know why, but he found himself smiling. Finding out your likes and dislikes and learning about your personality was interesting. He wished he hadn’t been so blind before. Maybe then, he could've been friends with you earlier.

But it was okay. He could still become your friend. He could still fix things.

Midoriya had written down a list of things that you would appreciate the most, and then it was on the planning portion.

Gift-giving was still a relatively new concept for Shoto. He never had any real reason to give someone a gift before, and when he did give gifts, it was mostly for his siblings on special occasions.

He never really had the opportunity to buy a gift for a friend.

Midoriya told him that the best gifts were meaningful and came from the heart.

"Think of a memory you have with them. Think of something that they would really enjoy."

But the issue was, he had no memories with you. No good ones, anyhow. They were all trash because he never gave you the chance to have a good memory with him.

"Hey, Todoroki, if you were—"

You always sounded so genuine when asking him those foolish questions, but the moment he turned his head, his glare could have killed you.

"Do you always have to bother me? Doesn’t it get tiring asking the same things, day in and day out?" His tone was harsh, and he didn't mean for it to sound that way, but it was the only tone he ever used on you.

"No wonder your parents sent you to boarding school in America before applying here. I wouldn’t be able to deal with you either."

Yeah, those were his words. Those were his exact words. Not the nicest, were they?

The sentence was completely laced with poison, and even Shoto knew it then. He truly didn’t mean to bring that up; it was a low blow, but the damage was done, and the second it was said, your expression fell.

Shame, really. You were only trying to be nice. You didn’t deserve his spiteful attitude. You were kind and thoughtful, and you were a very good person, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept your kindness.

So, how the hell was he going to be able to apologize to you? How was he going to give you a present that meant something when all his memories of you were filled with his hate?

He sat on his bed, his legs crossed as he held his head. He needed an idea, but his mind drew a blank. What the hell was he supposed to do?

Midoriya told him that a homemade gift was probably the best among a couple of special items. If he made something himself, he could show how much effort he put into it. He could make something meaningful and show just how sorry he was.

But... he wasn't the most creative person. In fact, his creativity was nonexistent. He didn’t know the first thing about making something from scratch.

He knew how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a tasty soba, but other than that, he was lost.

And it wasn't like he could ask for his siblings' help. He took that as a sign of not owning up to his mistakes. If he couldn’t figure this out, then he didn't deserve your friendship.

His eyes were fixated on his desk. His textbooks were sprawled out, and a couple of papers were scattered across the table. He was currently studying for the next exam, and his phone was off to the side, plugged into the wall to charge.

His mind should’ve been on schoolwork, but the only thing he could think of was you. He needed an idea, and soon, because if he didn't do anything, his guilt would eat him alive.

His mind continued to wander.

Flowers, chocolate, a book, a teddy bear.

None of these would be enough. None of these were personal; none of these would mean something.

His eyes wandered from his desk to the window. The sky was orange, a beautiful sunset. He watched as the clouds passed and the birds flew by.

Birds.

Why does that remind him of something?

What do birds have to do with a gift?

He closed his eyes, trying to remember a moment. Any moment, whether good or bad, anything that could help him get a hint as to what to do.

And then, a memory flashed.

It was a rainy day, and you were late.

You were walking and running, but the rain was coming down pretty hard. You weren’t an idiot, so you weren't wearing the U.A. uniform. Instead, you wore a jacket. But even then, you were still soaked.

You didn’t have an umbrella, a raincoat, or any protective gear. You were running through the rain, trying to get to the school before the bell rang.

Luckily, it wasn't too far away.

Shoto remembered seeing you run, and for a brief second, he thought you were an idiot. He wondered why you didn't just take the bus or the train. If you lived near the school, you would've had plenty of time.

And still, even being as late as you were, you were still determined to have your daily conversations with Shoto.

You were definitely an odd ball, but in that moment, a certain memory came to mind.

When you finally made it to class, you were absolutely soaked. Your hair was sticking to your face, and your shoes were squishing with every step you took.

You sat down, understandably grumpy, but you weren’t upset that you were late, wet, or even sick the next day. No, what was upsetting you was the fact that you had lost something.

A hairclip, to be specific.

You lost a hairclip.

It was a clip that had a hummingbird attached to it. The clip itself was silver, but the hummingbird was painted green. He knows this because you wouldn’t stop talking about it.

He remembered you saying that it was a gift from a family member. He didn’t know who, nor did he care at the time, but you cared.

You really cared.

You spent the majority of the day searching for the hairclip. You searched the hallways, the bathroom, the cafeteria, everywhere you could think of, but it wasn’t there. It was nowhere to be found.

And for a week, you wore your hair down, which was the complete opposite of what you normally did.

If only Shoto realized this at the time, then he would've helped you look for it. He was good at finding things, ironically, but the thought didn’t cross his mind, and neither did the memory.

Until now.

In a split second, he bolted up. He rushed downstairs, not caring if he was loud. He didn’t care if his family could hear him; he didn’t care if he was disturbing their peace.

He had an idea, a good one, and it was perfect.

It was the most personal gift he could think of. Throw in a couple of your favorites, and it would be perfect.

He would make you a gift basket, but he would add his own touch to it. Again, he wasn’t that creative, but he had a basic idea. You’d like ribbons, right? Why not a nice bow?

Unfortunately, your specific hummingbird hair clip was long gone, but the internet seemed to have everything. He searched for hours, ignoring his study guide for the upcoming exam, and finally, after what seemed like forever, he found a silver hummingbird. It wasn’t painted green, but it was the same model as your old one.

It was the best he could do. And fortunately, due to the one-day shipping, he would have it by the time Monday rolled around.

He ordered it, and when it came in, he put the basket together. He bought you a book based on your favorite genre, some chocolate, a bouquet of some of your favorite flowers, and then, he added the ribbon.

The clip he put in a special case, away from the basket. He would be giving this separately because it would mean more, and he felt like this was something that shouldn’t be touched by anything else.

And, well, he wanted to see your reaction to his apology. It would be easier to read your expression if he didn't give you both the gift at the same time.

Oh, right, the apology.

He didn’t really think about that, and honestly, he didn’t know how to start.

But the best way to do anything is with practice, right?

Screw that upcoming test. He had something much more important to deal with, and knowing him, he’d probably still ace the test anyway.

He cleared his throat, standing in the middle of his room.

Okay, how would he start?

Hi? No, that was too casual.

Hello? No, it's not formal enough.

Greetings?

No, no, he shouldn’t sound like a robot.

He needed something more genuine, more real.

Maybe... maybe he should start by telling you how sorry he was. Yeah, that would be the best.

He cleared his throat again.

"Hey," his voice cracked, and his eyes widened. He sounded so awkward. That was so not smooth.

He started over.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while," he started. "I'm... I'm sorry for everything I've done. For everything I've said. You didn't deserve any of that."

This felt like a speech. Maybe he should tone it down.

"I… I was a horrible person, and I wish I could take back all the things I said, but I can't, and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. And I know a simple sorry won't fix everything, so..."

He went over to the desk and picked up the box with the silver hummingbird inside.

"I want to give you this. I hope you like it."

Okay, practice over. He’s better off winging it. He truly regretted how he acted, so regardless of how the apology goes, hopefully, you can see that he's being genuine.

He sighed.

Hopefully.

The next day came quicker than expected. He spent the entire night preparing, and by the time the morning came, he was exhausted.

But it was okay because soon, he'd be able to see you and, hopefully, make amends.

Panic didn’t set in until he caught sight of you at your locker, picking out your books.

The moment his eyes landed on you, his heart started to race. His throat went dry, and his hands got clammy.

This is it, he thought—all or nothing.

He took a deep breath.

Here goes.

"Excuse me," he started. His voice sounded shaky, but he ignored it. He had to stay confident and pretend he wasn’t nervous.

You turned to him, and the moment your eyes met his, he swore he could feel his heart stop.

Those eyes… full of utter shock and surprise. You were really caught off guard. And he was, too, because not a single word was uttered from his lips.

"Um," you cleared your throat. "Hey, Todoroki," you smiled at him. You seemed hesitant, and honestly, who could blame you? He had never really been nice to you.

"I was just heading to class, but uh," you rubbed the back of your neck. "Did you… did you need something?"

The question made him snap back into reality.

He was still speechless, so to fix the awkward atmosphere, he decided just to hand you the basket.

You were obviously confused. Your brows were furrowed, and you stared at the present like it was some foreign object.

"What's this?"

"It's a gift."

Your confusion didn't fade. In fact, it was almost replaced with concern.

"For... me?"

Oh, for the love of…, snap out of it, Shoto!

He shook his head.

"Yes, for you," he handed you the gift, and when you held it, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. "I…"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Look, I'm... I'm sorry. For everything."

You just stared at him blankly, and for a moment, Shoto felt the panic rise. What if you didn’t forgive him?

You were quiet for a while, and his nervousness only grew. He decided to try again.

"You were just trying to be friends, and all I did was push you away. I was so… rude and cold, and you didn’t deserve any of that. You were just trying to be kind. So, I wanted to make it up to you. I wanted to do something nice and show you how deeply apologetic I am."

Silence.

He didn't know what to say anymore, so he continued, hoping he wasn't making a bigger mess than what it was.

"I also, uh, got you this," he pulled out the case from inside his uniform. With the way you were silent the entire time, he was starting to think you wouldn’t accept the gift.

So, the moment your hand reached out to grab the box, he was relieved to know you were willing to listen.

"I know it’s not your original, but it's the closest I could find. And, well, it's the least I could do, considering how I acted."

When you opened the box, he could see the way your eyes lit up. He was so nervous about this, so scared that you wouldn’t like it, but the way you smiled proved him wrong.

And that smile. Oh, that smile.

He caused that smile. Instead of stealing it away or making it go away, he made it appear.

"Todoroki, I," you were speechless. Utterly speechless, he could tell by the way you looked up at him.

You were trying to find the right words, and honestly, he didn’t blame you. He was in a similar situation.

"You didn’t have to get me this," you said, a bright smile on your face. You were holding the hummingbird gently like it was a precious object. "I probably would've forgiven you even if you didn’t get me anything."

Wait, was that a yes?

Was that a yes?!

Shoto could feel the corners of his lips twitch. He felt himself smiling.

"Thank you," you continued, still holding the hummingbird carefully. "It means a lot to me. I appreciate the effort you put into this. And, um, thank you for the apology. I really needed to hear it. Honestly, I thought I did something wrong, so I'm glad that wasn’t the case."

You laughed a bit, and even if he was confused about why you were laughing at all, he was relieved that you were accepting his apology.

"You did nothing wrong," he told you. "I was the one who messed up. I have issues, but that's not an excuse to be a jerk."

You smiled again, and he noticed the way you fiddled with the box. It was clear you wanted to attach the hairclip.

"I can… um, help you with that if you want."

The instant nod from you was enough for him to grab it delicately from the box, and when he did, you turned around.

It was a really pretty clip, and it suited you. Whoever originally gave it to you clearly had great taste.

It took a second, but he finally placed it into your hair. When you turned back around, he nodded in approval.

"You look nice," he told you.

"Thank you."

There was a pause.

"Um, did you, uh, want to sit together during lunch? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd ask."

The amount of joy he suddenly felt was unexplainable. You were accepting him, and it was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced.

"Yeah, sure," he nodded. "That sounds nice."

Mission make up with you: success.

The guilt of everything still lingered, and he would have to apologize to everyone else as well, but that could be done later.

Right now, all that mattered was his new friend. A friend that should’ve been his a long time ago.

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