#the visions i have for ever after high are so serious

[xbomboi]

and when i say this bitch is secretly an evil and corrupt ruler then what

will you all still stand by me

[obvi-the-best-soph]

we're all bound to break. (pt. 1)

alexia putellas masterlist: here requests: here

based on this request: Hey! Got a request for a teen!fic with Barca women’s team (focus on Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid if possible). I’m a sucker for angst so would love an angsty storyline, maybe an injury or off pitch event or something!

word count: 2,375k

summary: your parents pass away 2 weeks before the champions league final, but you don't tell anyone, which of course has knock on effects.

genre: angst/hurt warnings: disordered eating, vomiting, death of parents, swearing, grief, drunk driver/car accident, alcohol, struggling alone, body dysmorphia.

a/n: this is my first full length fic i'm posting on here, so i hope you enjoy it. sorry if the spanish is bad, i tried lol. would love requests and feedback as this had taken me literally ages. thank youuu :)

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Ever since you were a little kid, 4 or 5, you had wanted to play for Barcelona. Your papá had taken you to nearly every game you could make it to, and you loved it. That was always a special time, just you, and papá, and football. That was how you liked it. You and papá. Of course, you loved your mamí too, more than anything, but she didn’t quite love football just as much as you, but she was always supportive and tried her best to understand. So when the contract came for the first team of Barcelona Femení, you couldn’t put pen to paper fast enough. And suddenly, papá wasn’t just coming to games to watch the team, but to watch his own pequeña princesa (little princess) play.

And you absolutely dominated too. At first, you were just another new signing for Barcelona, a young kid that would probably barely ever play and hardly ever get started, but you quickly squashed those assumptions, scoring a hattrick in your debut game, shocking Camp Nou into near silence. You celebrated every goal by making a heart with your hands over your eyes, looking through the gap, where your papá would be cheering and clapping for you. Everything you did, you did for your papá… sound familiar? Every award you had won was dedicated to him, every goal, every game, similar to your mentor and current roommate, Alexia Putellas. When you signed for Barcelona, you had needed somewhere to stay as you and your family lived just outside the city, and after Alexia had met you, she had immediately offered. So that’s where you lived, in an apartment with Alexia. And occasionally, her girlfriend Olga. 

But Alexia wasn’t the only person you’re close to, Mapi and Ingrid often hosting you for sleepovers on weekend or Friday nights. You loved Mapi, always interested in her tattoos and their stories, or the funny things she’d tell you about Alexia or Ingrid. And Ingrid was great too. 

You loved all the Barca girls really, the second you stepped foot in there, they welcomed, loved and accepted you. Especially Ona, who you had become really close to, and Lucy and Kiera were always funny when you tried to teach them Spanish. Lucy was pretty good, but Kiera could barely make her way through “¿Hola, cómo estás?” (Hello, how are you?) without stuttering or looking around for reassurance. She was teased for it a lot, but it was all in good fun. All in all, you loved it at Barcelona, and now anywhere with that team felt like home. 

This season, you have been killing it. Scoring at least one goal every game, often two. And now, you've made it to the Champions League final. 2 weeks before, you got the most devastating call of your life. 

“Is this Y/N L/N?”

“Si, who is this?”

“Uh hola, this is the Police Department of (your hometown), and we regret to inform you that both of your parents have been involved in a serious car accident, they were hit at high speed by a drunk driver. Unfortunately neither of them have survived the impact.”

The phone slipped from your hands, clattering to the floor. Everything went blurry, the tears clouding your vision, and your knees shook until you found yourself crumpled on the bathroom floor. Thankfully, Alexia and Olga had gone out for dinner that night, so you were home alone, otherwise you would’ve immediately had people at your side, and you couldn’t think of anything worse right now. 

So… what now? No more papá, no more mamí…

You didn’t know what to do. So you just sat on the kitchen floor, and cried. And cried. And cried some more. “Why did it have to be me? Why did it have to be my parents?” you thought, the stages of grief already hitting you hard. 

After another hour and a bit longer of crying, you retreated to your room. You curled up in your bed, staring off into space, thinking about all the little things you didn’t have anymore. No more hugs from mamí, no more of her cooking, no more one on one time with papá, no more childhood home to go back to, no doubt your Tia (aunt) would sell that the second her greedy, money-loving little mitts could, no more papá. No more mamí. The two people that kept your world spinning. 

You decided you weren’t going to tell any of the team about it, not yet. Maybe after the final. There were a few reasons you’d thought of, one; you didn’t want them to pity you and treat you differently, two; you didn’t want to make them worry over you anymore than they already, and three; you just couldn’t bear to actually voice the words. “My mamí and papá are dead.” It was too much, too painful. So, you just stayed silent.

You didn’t get out of bed or leave your room much anymore, unless it was for training or other football stuff. That made Alexia begin to worry, you were always happy, and cheerful and hyper and pestering the others. But now you seemed like a shell of the person you were, which was partly true. You didn’t enjoy life much anymore, you just barely managed to drag yourself out of bed each morning, no breakfast, training, then back home, and back to bed. Spending so much time in bed was something you thought to be ‘lazy’ or ‘slobbish’, although you still couldn’t manage to muster up enough energy or fucks to give to get out of it. So you began skipping meals. Not intentionally per say, but you certainly weren’t trying overly hard to eat either. 

And when you look in the mirror nowadays, in a strange, twisted way, you prefer what you saw. You look older, more mature like the other girls in the team, not the baby-faced 16 year old the public sees you to be. So you make even less effort to eat. You know you should, that an athlete starving themselves was like trying to drive a car on empty, but you simply can’t part with the new reflection you saw, the ‘beautiful’ and ‘mature’ one. 

Finally, the day of the final rolled around, and everyone was extremely hyped. The locker room was buzzing, music blasting, girls dancing around, and the atmosphere generally excited. But all you could feel was the emptiness of your stomach, the pounding in your head from the harsh drum beats of the music, the way the backs of your ankles had large red blisters from how your skin had thinned and now the bone rubbed right against the back of your cleats now, the overwhelming feeling of loneliness, knowing that neither of your parents were in the crowd. So you kept quiet, avoiding conversations unless they were completely necessary, slipping out of the locker room as soon as you had finished changing. 

You were starting today, playing up the front with Alexia. You two had become known for your chemistry on and off the pitch, goal scoring machines on it and best friends off it. Alexia had been insanely worried about you recently, living with you, she had obviously noticed your tendency to stay in bed and skip meals, she’d always push for you to eat, but you always passed it off with a “Sorry, I’m not feeling well, I think I’m just going to go to bed.” “Oh, no, gracias, I’m not hungry.”. 

You jogged onto the pitch behind Alexia, before joining the line facing out to the stadium while the National Anthems played, Alexia had her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and her firm grip and presence felt like it was just about the only thing holding you up in that moment. You refused to look at the place where your parents always sat, not being able to bear the sight of someone else sitting in their seats. 

The first whistle blew, and you played well for the first half, scoring a goal in the 26th minute after Alexia set you up for a header. You didn’t really know how to celebrate it, there was no point in doing your usual celebration, because there was no one to look through your heart hands at. You barely even smiled, letting the team just crowd around you with a group hug type thing before getting back to it. You scored again about 10 minutes into the second half, the equalizer, the score was now 2 all, but once again, you barely celebrated. Running on an empty stomach had meant that the game had drained most of your energy, and you weren’t really in the right frame of mind for playing anyway, stuffed full or starving. 

Now, it was the 89th minute, and still a draw, someone needs to score, and quick. You snapped yourself out of the hazy, barely-there headspace you’d been playing in previously. Now was not time for being floaty and sloppy, now was the time to focus. You yelled at Alexia profusely for the ball, 45 seconds on the clock. She made a shit pass, but you managed to recover it. There were 2 defenders on you, and you were barely past halfway with no support, but a quick glance at the clock and you had made up your mind.

You shot. From halfway out. It was a powerful shot, with the perfect curve and force. You watched as it flew through the air, the stadium silent, but the second the ball hit the back of the net, the noise was near unbearable. 20 seconds to go, you’d scored a hattrick, won Barcelona the final, scored from halfway out, and not even celebrated. 

3-2 to Barcelona.

The final whistle blew. All Barcelona goals had been scored by the 16 year old girl. The 16 year old girl that hadn’t eaten in 2 days, the 16 year old girl that had no family to her name but an aunt that never liked her, the 16 year old girl that had secretly been an orphan for 2 weeks, the 16 year old girl that didn’t even know what to feel anymore. 

This was your dream. Win the Champions League for Barcelona. It’d been your dream for as long as you could remember. But it didn’t mean anything now. Not without papá waving his silly flag from the stands, cheering louder than everyone else in the section, wearing your jersey, waiting with open arms when the sound of the last whistle rang through the stadium. 

You stumbled off the pitch, the exhaustion and lack of fuel to keep your body going hitting you all once. You felt weirdly light, your head spinning and vision blurry, steps uneven, like the ground was moving beneath you, like you weren’t really controlling your body.

Eventually, you got to the locker room, where there was thankfully a few sandwiches and some Powerades laying around from before the game. As much as you really, really, didn’t want to eat them, you knew you couldn’t pass out. Not now anyway. So you swallow the two sandwiches down, washing the bready taste away with the Powerade, trying hard not to think about all the carbs and calories in the meal.

You made your way back out to the pitch. But you didn’t go into the middle to celebrate with the other girls. You just plonked down a little way in from the sideline, just staring out at everything, the crowd, the girls, the losing team, the fans, the losing fans. It wasn’t like you at all. You were always in the action, partying and pestering, but now, you were intentionally avoiding it. You hid away in the dugout when you saw the team looking around for you. Their star player. “The goal scoring machine at 16”, as some fans had nicknamed you.

“Y/N? What are you doing chica? Come celebrate!” Alexia called at you from the sidelines, grinning, a slight confused furrow in her brows. 

Welp, hiding place blown you guess. You sigh and get up, painting a fake smile across your face and letting Alexia wrap her arm around your shoulder as she leads you back to where the rest of the team are, in the middle of the pitch.

“Y/N! Our little superestrella (superstar)!” Mapi yells, excitedly making her way towards you, the rest of the team rushing along behind her, wanting to celebrate you. Attention. The last thing you wanted right now, but you were being smothered in it. 

Eventually, the team retreated from the pitch, and into the locker rooms. That was okay, there was far too much alcohol and drunk women in there for you to be allowed in, being underage still. So you went home. Despite practically winning the Champions League for Barcelona, you just ordered an Uber and took yourself home, flicking Alexia a quick text to tell her you’d left.

You got back to the shared apartment and struggled your way through a shower before crashing into bed, and crying. Bawling. Sobbing. Shaking. At one point, screaming.

Over the past two weeks, you had gone through a lot of the stages of grief, but most recently, anger. 

Why? Why had it had to happen to them? What had they done so wrong that the universe needed to kill them? Why you? Why them? You couldn’t remember your last words to them either, so nowadays any time someone left, you made sure to say a real goodbye. 

You had passed out after around 2 hours of violent crying, having cried so hard at one point you’d had to lean over the bed to be sick in the wastebasket between your nightstand and the mattress. It felt good, as your mamí had always said, better out than in. It also made you feel a tiny bit better about the sandwiches earlier too.

It wasn’t until 10am the next day Alexia stumbled in the front door. She wasn’t drunk anymore, but looked insanely hungover. She cracked the door to your bedroom and looked at you. Really looked at you. 

“Superestrella, we need to talk. There’s something wrong, and you’re going to tell me what it is.”

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a/n: sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger! but i just want to see how well this goes before launching into a second part. feedback would be greatly appreciated, but of course please be kind! 

requests for a part 2 (or any other requests): here

[gomu-fer]

Kiss

Ace x reader

fluff drabble + fem reader

“Oh god, I don’t even remember the last time I was kissed” embarrassment and booze tinted your voice as you giggled at your hopelessness, the moon hanging high above you the only witness of your statement besides your dear commander and friend

Ace’s eyebrows jump in surprise, surely you were just being modest right? You were the most beautiful person that had crossed his path, funny, clever, easy at conversation and so unique; there was no way you didn’t had people begging for your attention and at least a peck, hell he’d give everything for just one kiss of yours

“You’re joking” your face drops, that natural shyness creeping its way to your cheeks making him regret his teasing tone

“Am not” you say now serious as you balance yourself on the edge of the ship, eyes looking at the bottom of your glass in regret or embarrassment? Ace couldn’t tell since his attention was being stolen by your pouting lips “Before becoming a pirate, I only dated this one guy,”- you trailed off, your tongue running lose and a sour taste spreading at the memory.- “He was not only my last kiss but also my first”

Ace stays silent clinging at every word that leaves your pretty mouth. You’d always restrained from talking about your love life whenever the crew bring the topic to the table, staying still and quiet as you listened attentively, claiming to never having anything important to say on the matter, and he now understands why

“Do you… love him still or…?” The idea of your heart belonging to someone else made him burn, nevertheless he would understand, after all, he wasn’t that big of a deal and in his eyes you deserved better

“Absolutely not”- it’s almost comical how you were quick to answer. -“I did love him I guess once upon a time, but he wasn’t a good lover” your eyes trail off again now to look at the ocean waves crashing below, there’s certain hurt that fills your atmosphere that has Ace’s mind reeling

He wanted to show you how you deserved to be loved, every fiber of his being burning at the thought of this stupid guy taking you from granted; you alway caring and thoughtful, witty and kind heart that accompanied your otherworldly beauty that had charmed him

So lost in his thoughts he doesn’t catch how he’s looking at you heavily, eyebrows angry with a frown that makes you take a swing of your drink already hating the course of the conversation

Your voice brings him back to earth “You must think I’m a loser”- an awkward laugh follows, hanging in the air as you wished you had more alcohol to down

“NO!” Ace practically screams, immediately feeling embarrassed as your big eyes gaze at him surprised- “I respect that”

The silence that follows his statement makes you want to crawl out of your skin before the ocean takes you away and spits you out on the opposite side of the grand line, too ashamed to even walk away and run from him you remain focus on the stars twinkling above the commanders head, alike the ones that paint his face

“But if you want to change that, I could help” your vision quickly falls on him, his freckles that you had recalled before being dusted in pink, his brown orbs patiently awaiting for a response as they trace every inch of you over and over

Your breath starts to pick up speed, your breasts peeking from your shirt when you take in air that you fight to keep in but it just escapes you. Your mouth stays agape as it struggles to concoct a yes or a no, only luring the man before you like a light house in the middle of the merciless sea. You wanted this so bad like nothing ever before, your heart that laid on the hands of the fire fist the moment your eyes met now being close to combust

“Yes, I would like that” a whisper could be louder than the words that had escaped you, landing right into Ace’s heart

He can’t believe it, his ears only understanding the yes that started your sentence as the rest died before he could make them out. He had been dreaming of you so long it was almost pathetic

Your eyes stay still taking in their favorite view of each other as he walks closer caging you in, his wide frame covering you like a warm blanket against the cold sea breeze. One of his hands travels to cup your cheek, immediately melting under his touch like wax over a candle. His face shows his hesitation, afraid you are already regretting this but you immediately reassure him by hanging by his neck, your hands grasping his raven locks making him hold in a shaky breath of pleasure

His head finally falls so he can meet your lips halfway as you reach up. The moment he delicately grazes the lips he had been staring at the whole night making hi mind buzz

Ace kisses you with much feeling, basking in the way your mouth fits in his, having to stop himself from losing control of his actions as to not scare you away. Eventually as you grow more confident after feeling acquainted with the way he kisses, you let go. It becomes urgent and greedy, breaths mingling as your mouths open so you can access more of each other, a dance of lips, tongues and yearning that numbs every other sense

However, you cannot kiss forever, so it ends as Ace steps back to allow you to catch your breath, an understanding sinking in both of you as you finally realize that the thoughts and feelings that plagued you also went after him

“Let’s do that again”

Masterlist

[cattjull]

PART 1 HERE PART 3 HERE

Summary: Abby doesn't want something serious. You won't let her fuck you and give you nothing in exchange, will you?

CW: Just a little smut under the cut (mdni or just skip the italics part), r! is afab, dacryphilia if you squint, strap use (r! receiving), r! is kind of a manipulator.

Her dick slipped in and out of you relentlessly as you chanted her name, tears falling from your eyes from how good it felt.

"You like this?" She asked in your ear. The knot building in your stomach felt heavy, like a tub of ice cream. Her voice was sweet as caramel. Her panting was the cherry on top.

"Y-yeeahh." You managed to mutter out, your voice high-pitched. "M' gonna..."

"Come on, give it to me, baby." She commanded, and you instantly came. You were incredibly wet that night, so wet that you squirted all over Abby's strap, screaming louder than ever.

After some minutes you spent going to the bathroom, taking a pee, putting on some of Abby's T-shirts with no panties and washing your face, you came back to her bed where she waited for you, in short pajamas. You climbed onto her like a koala, wrapping your arms around her neck and your legs around one of hers. Some minutes passed while she just caressed your hair and you kissed her neck until you pulled back a little to look at her in the eye.

"Abby, will we be something?"

"Listen, I know you want this to be serious." She affirmed cautiously. You hadn't knew her for too long, so trying to guess what would she say next was practically impossible.

One way or another, you were afraid of what she would say next. Maybe she didn't like you? You didn't want her to go after spending a whole month with her and staying at her place at least twice a week.

"Mhm."

"But I don't think I can handle it. I'm too busy with work, and you know that." She excused herself, the guilt in her almost palpable as each word felt like a punch to your gut.

"So you just wanted to use me and throw me away like a broken toy?" Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you blinked rapidly.

"No, no, no, baby, listen." She seemed to instantly regret her choice of words and sat up too.

"Listen what? I don't want you to fuck me when you're free." You yelled at her, cracking your voice in purpose at the end of your sentence.

"We can have something casual if you want. But right now I'm really busy to-" The tears kept coming out of your eyes.

"No, I don't want to." Your voice came out of your mouth more high-pitched than usual and, honestly, it sounded like this was the worst day of your life.

"What if I pay you?"

"What?" You weren't sure you heard it well. This was kind of your goal, but you didn't expect her to offer it so easily. Plus, you wanted a rich girlfriend, not to be pampered like a whore.

"I'll pay you. Like a sugar baby. I won't be using you, I'll be giving you something in exchange." You acted like you had just started considering her offer.

"How much are we talking about?" You asked, still not convinced.

"Four thousands a month plus dates and gifts." Fine, this could work.

"You think that's enough for me after literally breaking my heart?" You asked coldly. You didn't feel exactly great using her this way, but you needed the money, didn't you? And, she in fact broke your heart

"Six thousands." You sighed and furrowed your eyebrows, pretending to be mad at her even if you were enchanted with the idea, and laid down next to her with crossed arms, facing the ceiling.

"I have some rules."

"Tell me."

"First, you can't be with someone else or I'll rip my eyes out of my head and kill myself in your front door step."

"Did you need to be that extreme?" She asked with a disbelief smirk.

"It's just so you remember it well." You smiled. "Second, you have to pretend you're my girlfriend in front of everyone. Everyone. And act like my girlfriend."

"I can do that."

"And third, don't treat me like a slut because I'm not one."

"I have the feeling you've done this lots of times before." She said with suspicion.

"Third rule." You reminded her in a warning tone.

"I didn't mean it in that way."

"Sure." You rolled your eyes and turned your back to her. She pulled you close to her, wrapping her big arms around your waist and forcing you to be the little spoon. "Hey!" You giggled.

"You shouldn't stay mad at me. It doesn't suit you."

"Fine, fine." You let yourself smile for once, wiping your tears.

"We'll go shopping tomorrow, okay?"

Taglist: @elliessgfsstuff @giuliaexe66 @playboygirlsnextdoor00 @justhereforthosefics

[captainuranium543]

Ft headcanons nobody wanted part 2

-natsu will occasionally get genuinely jealous over his friends owning appliances for heating. Why should they need those things when they have him, if they just call him over her do a way better job then any of those stupid gadgets. He finds out gray owns a hair dryer and immediately becomes a jealous ex girlfriend. He confronts Lucy in her apartment one night acting so serious he she doesn't even get mad that he broke in, then just goes "care to explain this?" And puts a lighter on the table.

- Wendy is very very quiet. Creepily so. Not elaborating but I think you can imagine the kinds of situations this leads to.

- Mira's eyes glow in the dark and it creeps everyone the fuck out

- erza has the worst hoarding problem. Her dorm room is entirely piled floor to ceiling with boxes of meticulously organized random items she refuses to throw out for some reason

young Mira: "alright this is ridiculous why do you even have this"

Young erza: "say what you want but when you need 746 packets of Mcnolias sweet and sour sauce and find your supply baron I'll be laughing"

- levy is one of the few members of the guild who actively sought it out to join. Before fairy tail she was an orphan and a student studying magic. She left to join fairy tail to learn more about magic in general from real world experience.

- laki will sometimes build creepily realistic wooden statues of her guild mates and leave them around in inconspicuous places so when you find them they scare the shit out of you. Sometimes she hides them too well and it takes years to discover them.

- Lucy has actually written several unpublished novels and the only other person who's ever seen them is levy. Lucy thinks their crap but levy carefully annotates every single one.

- laxus used to occasionally be forced to go on jobs with erza and Mira when they were young both to help and to make sure they didn't kill each other and he hated it.

- I think I might have said this before but I firmly believe levy, Lucy, freed and jellal later on all form a book club because they love reading, the problem is they all have vastly different tastes in book so they can never decide what to read each week and usually just end up playing Scrabble and talking shit about their various teammates

"please guys trust me this one's good"

"I am NOT reading Colleen Hoover Lucy and that's final"

- this one's based on city hero but I personally believe erza and Erik find a shocking common ground over motorcycles. Erza likes vehicles in general and Erik took up bike racing as a hobby, since discovering this is the longest they've been able to be in the same room together without someone throwing a punch.

- Wendy visits lamia scale regularly still to hang out with chelia. she usually brings romeo and they all go out to do whatever dumb kid stuff they want. (Tbh I just like her having friends her own age)

-lucy sometimes randomly lets her rich girl's heritage show in random conversation and it's always jarring. You'll be having a normal chill convo with her and then she'll look you dead in the eyes and ask you what colour your personal carriage was growing up.

- Natsu is genuinely a really good cook he just has a terrible taste so nobody wants to eat his food. For reference he only ever cooks his food because he enjoys doing it to him it tastes fine either way.

- if you had asked the fairy tail guild who the scariest guild member was in early season 1 the answers would have been erza, guildarts, laxus etc all the usual suspects. Once season 2 starts however the answer is unanimous. It's juvia. Juvia is fucking terrifying when she gets mad. You don't realize how scary water can be until it's filling your lungs and as your vision blurs until all you can see is her merciless stare.

- Mira and freed can drink blood for demon reasons. gray can too after getting devil slayer but he thinks its gross. Surprisingly so can gajeel because of the high iron content.

- gray the type of guy who's bed has only the smallest thinnest blanket on his bed and usually it's on the ground cuz he gets too hot

- meanwhile erza is the type of girl to have so many pillows, blankets and plushies on her bed you wonder how she fucking sleeps in it. Mf has a NEST.

- Lucy isn't even surprised anymore when she finds people in her house, she doesn't know how they keep getting in and honestly she doesn't care anymore she's to tired to deal with it.

- freed plays a lot of really fucking weird instruments. Idk it just seems like something he would do.

- bixlow can speak most languages and it's always really surprising when he randomly says smth like "oh yea I can speak ancient nirvid no prob" like that's totally normal

- if laxus and freed ever did get together (in my heart it's cannon) evergreen and bixlow would be their biggest haters. Yea they love them and they're happy for them but also EW. GROSS. GET A ROOM.

[dreamdazedworld]

YINGXING BRAINROT

Synopsis: Yingxing x Genshin! Youkai! Gender neutral Reader and the both of them are hopelessly in love.

Note(s): I was listening to 愛き夜道 on Spotify when I suddenly got this idea, now it won’t leave me alone. Anyways, I think that this is the first post I actually wrote, so yippie? Eat up, my children, you won’t be having these Yingxing crumbs for some while. This might actually turn into a full blown fic, though it depends on my motivation LOL

Warning(s): Both of them are hopelessly in love with each other, death mentioned (nothing serious, dw), oops now you have a Yandere! Blade chasing you around Teyvat

Art credit goes to my favorite artist, void/Re:era on X! Their art is really pretty, check them out if you can :o

Imagine a Genshin! Youkai! Reader who’s a fox/kitsune (like Yae), and fell in love with YINGXING, like it has all of the potential fr.

So! Of course, Reader here is from Inazuma, and their… clan (let’s all pretend that the Youkai has separate clans) feeds only on the feelings (and emotions), positive ones, to be precise, of humans (like the dementors from Harry Potter!). Negative ones are like poison to them- And the only antidote for this is the Sacred Sakura, however, there are lasting after effects. Once poisoned, the kitsune will be significantly weakened for a long period of time, ranging from a few decades to centuries on end, depending on how much the kitsune consumed.

Kitsune! Reader, unlike the others from their clan, doesn’t like feeding on humans (because it ends up driving their victim mad and they like humans). Of course they understand that it’s necessary for them to survive, they’re not dumb, they can feel their hunger growing with each day they refused to feed on humans. So, with no more options, decides to blend into human society by protecting mankind from the ‘evil’ Youkai, and occasionally feeding on people who are about to die (with guilt). Their love for humanity and stubborn determination to protect humans ends up earning them a Pyro vision that supplies them with some energy to keep them going, since visions are literally wishes with a physical shape, and wishes have positive energy.

One day, while resting on the Sacred Sakura, Reader accidentally finds out that the Sakura has clones, which are spread across multiple worlds by waking up in the Xianzhou Luofu. There, they meet young Yingxing, who’s still learning under that grandpa, when he stumbles into the area where the clone is located. There, they become friends, and as years pass, eventually drinking buddies as well. After Yingxing meets the High-Cloud Quintet and as years fade away, our dear Reader here realizes they’re hopelessly in love with….. Yingxing!? Instantly gives up on their love as soon as they realize, because they think he doesn’t see them in that light (honey, he does), and to rub salt to the wound, in love with Bai Heng, since Yingxing talks about her a lot. But of course it doesn’t go as easily as they want it to go, so the Reader just silently suffers with their emotions.

When shit starts to go down in the Quintet after Bai Heng’s death, Reader goes “Oh fuck, Yingxing’s negative energy is going to make him choose the shittiest life options, won’t it?” and starts to suck away his pain (by kissing him in his sleep because YES). Yingxing starts getting better in exchange for Reader’s health, and in the end, Reader fucking COLLAPSES, forced to go back to Inazuma to recover, Yingxing learns about everything they were keeping from him through a letter, depression hits and oh wow, Yingxing chooses the most shittiest life decision he has ever made by teaming up with Dan Feng to cause the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae, turning him immortal, and eventually into Blade. (I forgot to mention it but only the original Sacred Sakura has the ability to heal away the poison.)

As thousands of years pass, Reader fully recovers, though not exactly since they can’t let go of Yingxing. The Sakoku degree is lifted, and everything seems fine in Inazuma, until they come across a person who they thought were already dead- You guessed it, Blade! But not just typical Blade, Yandere! Blade who is on the brink of insanity and is hellbent on bringing Reader along with him. And so, the game of cat and mouse ensues.

[sunkifye]

enhypen as love tropes

lee heeseung ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

fake dating

“I know our relationship is fake, but the feelings I have for you are so real.”

as heeseung walked through the halls at school, he heard two girls talking and their conversation made him stop in his tracks. “stop lying! I know you don’t have a boyfriend” one girl said to the other. and she was right, that girl didn’t actually have a boyfriend. she was a loner and heeseung knew this, so why did he step in and pretend to be her boyfriend? well, his friends have been pushing him to get a girlfriend so maybe this girl can help him out. the two made a deal to help each other out by pretending to be a couple and they even made some ground rules. but what’ll happen when the two start to fall for each other and break their set of rules? will someone figure out about their act? will their relationship remain fake or turn into something real?

park jongseong ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

arranged marriage

“arranged or not, I still would have chosen you.”

when jay’s parents told him that he was getting married in a week to a random girl, he almost fell off his chair. getting married to a complete stranger? yeah, no thanks. and the random girl wasn’t so thrilled about this either. their parents both own two of the most successful companies, so in theory, them getting married would combine the two companies and increase profit. this marriage was all about money and not about love. but as the two skeptical strangers begin to spend time with each other throughout the week, they realize that they have more in common than they thought. will this marriage actually work out? or will the success of their parents’ businesses ruin their blossoming relationship?

sim jaeyun ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

soulmates

“I guess we really were meant to be.”

everyone has a soulmate and is attached to their person by an invisible red string. only a few people are able to see these strings and jake happens to be one of them. wherever he goes, his vision is blurred by the bright strings attached to every single person’s pinky finger, including his own. he hated the idea of soulmates, having to see all of the happy couples that weren’t fated together break up over this idea that they aren’t supposed to be together. or maybe he hated it because his own soulmate already had a boyfriend, and she wasn’t going to breakup with him anytime soon. but what’ll happen when jake starts to go after a girl that isn’t his soulmate? will their relationship flourish? or will his real soulmate come into the picture and make jake’s life a confusing mess?

park sunghoon ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

second chance

“you’ll always be my number one, even if it didn’t work out the first time.”

sunghoon had a girlfriend for all of senior year of high school. he really thought that she was the one until they went off to college. since they both went to different colleges, they decided to break up instead of having a long distance relationship. the breakup left sunghoon heart broken. he swore to himself that he wouldn’t get caught up in a serious relationship again any time soon. so, he spent his years at college being single and focusing on his studies. after he graduated, he landed a job working in a big business in his home town. his first day on the job, he walked into his office to find his ex girlfriend as his colleague. will the two be able to rekindle their relationship? or will they be torn apart once again?

kim seonwoo ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

childhood best friends to lovers

“you’ve been there for me since day one.”

sunoo has been best friends with this girl ever since he was born. their parents were best friends, so they were best friends too. growing up they spent every second together. they were attached by the hip and basically inseparable. now in their senior year of high school, the two are still as close as ever, hanging out together at every possible moment. over the past few years, sunoo has grown a crush on his best friend but he has never told her. he can’t tell if she feels the same way and he doesn’t want to put their friendship in jeopardy. but because the end of the year is nearing, sunoo has built up the courage to confess to her before they part for college. however, every time he tries to confess his feelings, something always gets in the way. will his confession ruin their 18 years of friendship? or will sunoo ever be able to confess to her before they both leave for college?

yang jungwon ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

boy next door / neighbors to lovers

“this whole time, my one true love lived right across the street.”

jungwon had just moved out of his old apartment and into a new house with his grandma. new house, new school, new beginnings. he had quickly become friends with everybody in the neighborhood, except for the person who lives across the street from him. sure he’s met the parents, but he’s never seen their daughter. in other news, he’s taken up a new hobby after school: tutoring. after the first week of school, he started to tutor a girl in his math class. after a few of their tutoring sessions, they became pretty close friends and as the weeks go on, jungwon finds himself falling for her more and more. but what’ll happen when jungwon finds out that his crush is the girl living next door? will this change the dynamic of their relationship? or will someone else come in between them?

nishimura riki ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

enemies to lovers

“I never thought I would fall for an idiot like you.”

ni-ki is the captain of the boys dance team at his high school—oh and the captain of the girls dance team? she’s his sworn enemy. the two are always bickering and being mean to each other, whether it be during dance practices or the few classes they shared together in school. everyone knew of their hatred for each other, but no one knew what caused it. one day, the school announced that there would be a big performance at the school for the two dance teams. there would be many group numbers, trios, and solos that the two teams had to perform, including a duet between the best dancer from the boys team and the best dancer from the girls team, which just so happens to be the two captains. though both are opposed of doing a duet together, the dance teams persuaded them to try to work together just this once. how are the two enemies supposed to practice a dance together for weeks on end? will they be able to pull off this duet if they can’t stand each other? or will their hatred turn into love?

author’s note : 1. this has been rotting in my drafts for awhile 2. ik these r super cliche BUT THATS WHY I LOVE IT 3. obviously this is my opinion but I would love to hear ur opinions on what tropes u think enha r 4. I really wanna make a fic out of jake’s (or any of the members) but I have to finish rage quit first 5. if u decide to write any fics on these ideas PLEASE DO and tag me bc I would love to read them

ok ty for reading & have a great day 💋💋

[malum-forev]

Non Exclusive

Bucky warmed the single beer he’d been nursing for hours by holding it with both hands. He blew air into the top of the bottle, making the glass whistle as he shifted on both legs. He glanced your way twice, not wanting to make it obvious he was staring. 

Sam pulled up next to the brunet, switching up his flat beer for a newer, colder one. 

“How much longer are you going to be lurking in the shadows?” Sam asked. “People have already started asking me who the peeping tom is.”

“I’m not staring.” Was all Bucky said. 

“Staring, wanting to burst Garrett’s head with your mind, tomato, tomato.” Sam sipped his beer, leaning back on the wall to join his friend. “You look pretty jealous Buck. I thought you said you and (Y/N) had agreed on just sex.” 

“It is just sex.” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

Bucky let his blue eyes roam your body, he had made it his personal mission to memorize the curves on your body. It was like he had X-Ray vision and he could accurately pinpoint where each and every one of your moles and scars were.  

Sam hummed. “If you two aren’t exclusive, then tell me who you’ve fucked other than her lately.”

Bucky realized it would have been too embarrassing for him to say he’d turned down more than a couple of offers. To be honest, once he got used to this new world, Bucky was- what’s the correct word?- he was liberated. 

When Dr. Raynor told him he was free and he’d asked her “Free to do what?” 

He didn’t think fucking every single woman within a five-mile radius would be her answer- but that’s what he did. And it was amazing. He wasn’t used to women being so open about how he made them feel, Bucky had even asked for pointers to make the experience more pleasurable for them. There wasn’t a clause in his contract that forbid him from fraternizing with other agents and boy did he make some of his higher ups wish they did. 

The Winter Soldier had gotten quite the reputation for being an expert in the one and done category. Making women all around the compound want him even more, wishing they would be the ones to return the soldier back to his 40’s ways. None of them had been successful. 

But something changed when he met you. You’d been on the team for some time now but you had never expressed any interest in him. Until that night. For Bucky, his life would be separated into two categories: Before You and After You. 

It was a late night and you came into his office with your tactical suit zipped down to your waist with a tight cropped shirt underneath that begged to be taken off, your hair that was usually up in a ponytail had been let free a long time ago.

Bucky gulped as you leaned over the table to reach for something, your breasts taunting him.

Before he knew it, your lips were on his. You were running your hands through his short hair, trying to grip anything. Your ragged breaths only pushed your breasts closer to him, making him go feral. 

“I’m not looking for anything serious.” He panted.

Your devious smile only made him harder. “Neither am I.” 

Ever since that day, he’d been entranced. Of course he enjoyed sex with other women but with you, Bucky felt a deep connection. Like you were made for him, you introduced Bucky to a pleasure high he didn’t think was even possible or existed for that matter. 

It started when he called you after a mission, wanting to get rid of pent-up aggression. Bucky was extra happy when you’d told him you were more than happy to let him use your body, that day he’d introduced you to the stars. Fucking you into oblivion. 

Then, it was once a week at least. 

“Training has been-“ Bucky said between thrusts but you shushed him. 

You craned your neck from your position on all fours, locking with his darkened and lustful eyes. “Concentrate on me, on us.”

Bucky thought it was a miracle he didn’t come then and there, just from your words. 

You laid in bed with him after the two of you had finished. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back on his almost flat pillows before focusing all your energy- whatever he hadn’t drained- into lifting your body. 

“A-are you leaving already?” Bucky’s voice was just above a whisper. 

“I didn’t think you wanted me to stay longer.” You chuckled. 

Bucky’s eyes furrowed. “What makes you think that?”

“I thought you used those as a quick fuck quick exit tactic.” You pointed at the uncomfortable pillows. “You know, to make your guest understand they shouldn’t overstay their welcome.”

When you came over a week later, a couple of things had changed in his room. On the nightstand opposite his were a couple of boxes of tampons, one candle, a toothbrush and an oversized vintage t-shirt of his. You fought back a smile as you saw a brand-new fluffy pillow rest next to his flat one on the bed with the tags still attached. 

“Did you take some pointers from romantic comedies?” You bit your bottom lip. 

Bucky smiled, kneeling between your legs perched at the edge of the bed. “Concentrate on me.” 

You threw your head back with a moan as he lowered his head in between your thighs. 

“I’ll take your lack of an answer as a no.” Sam laughed. “The fuckboy became the simp.”

“What of course I’ve been seeing other people.” Bucky scoffed. “Yes, I’ve been doing a lot of that. Recently. Constantly.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Then I assume you won’t care if I told you Thor is coming to the compound next week.”

The sound of his name made the blood coursing through Bucky’s veins become hot. He clamped down on his molars. 

“I thought he wasn’t returning, at least not soon.” Bucky tried to sound relaxed, like he totally didn’t care that the man you have the biggest crush on would be training with the team. 

Sam shrugged. “Something about having intel.”

“What kind of intel could he have that we couldn’t easily get.” Bucky rolled his eyes and sipped the beer. 

“You’re seriously considering you have more information than the literal God of Thunder?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “It’s not like I care anyways.”

“You don’t?” Sam pushed.

“I. don’t. care.” Bucky enunciated each word, following your hands as you placed them on Garrett’s chest. 

“When’s the whole Mr. Casual act going to stop?” Sam asked. 

“You know me-“ Bucky let out a strained smile. “Monogamy bores me. Being with only one woman, for the rest of my life, the whole get married and spend eternity wishing I would die at the same time as her so I don’t need to spend another minute of my time on Earth without her- yeah that doesn’t sound like me.” 

Sam judged his friend silently. 

“She can go home with Garrett and I wouldn’t care-“ Bucky laughed into his beer. “Plus he’s like a full four inches shorter than me so- yeah I don’t care.”

Just as Sam was about to say something, his friends eyes lit up and for the first time in hours he saw Bucky look not miserable- dare he even say happy?

You strutted towards the soldier, your happy glow transferring onto him. 

“How about you take me back to your place, Sarge?” You whispered into his ear. 

Bucky’s face lit up and he took your hand, quickly waving back at Sam. “If you have an emergency, don't call!”

I'm the worst at writing even mild spice so pls don't kill me if this is cringeeee. I triedddd and I'm a sucker for slutty Buck.

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour@hallecarey1

[warlocksoup]

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ AKAASHI KEIJI undone ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ CHAPTER ONE: evidence

HOW TO TRICK THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE INTO DATING YOU BY DATING SOMEONE ELSE (YOUR BEST FRIEND)(JUST PRETEND THOUGH)

STEP ONE: GET YOUR MOST PUSHOVER, IN LOVE WITH YOU FRIEND TO AGREE

She tries to say no, at first, for the sake of preserving at least some of her dignity. But it’s Akaashi. She was always going to say yes, eventually.

“I dunno,” she pretends to muse, slumped out on the couch with her fingers deftly moving from button to button on the controller in her hands, eyes narrowed at the television screen in front of her. “Do you really want to start out being like, deceptive? Doesn’t seem like the best way to get a girl’s attention.”

Akaashi groans, head dropping back and his arms thrown up, exasperated and defeated. “Yeah, I know, but I’ve tried everything else, and nothing gets her attention. But if she sees you, a pretty, cool girl, going out with me, then maybe she, another, pretty, cool girl, will start to see me as someone dateable.”

She snorts. “Are we in junior high? What the fuck kind of logic is that?”

He drops on the couch opposite her. “I know, it’s just,” he pauses, and sighs, “I’m desperate.”

She allows herself a string of self-lambasting thoughts, centered mainly around how pathetic she is for that selfish lurch in her chest. To say yes would be to take advantage of her best friend’s desperation, allowing him to play pretend and act out some of her most suppressed fantasies, for some plot to get the girl that, in the end, probably won’t work. She swallows and tries to make him change his mind once again. “I really don’t think this would even work, Kaashi.”

“Yeah, but I’m driving myself crazy,” he insists as her thumbs start to button-smash frantically, “and you’re the only person I trust enough to do this with. I know it’s stupid I just have to try something.”

She’s reached the end of her protests. The screen in front of her flashes red, and the word DEATH splays across her vision; she sighs. Her head lops to the side, and she blinks at a wide-eyed, completely desperate Akaashi. “Fine.”

STEP TWO: START PLANTING FALSIFIED EVIDENCE

Akaashi’s hand is intertwined with her. She stares down at it and tries to memorize it. The way his fingers look pressed into her skin, how it feels. The warmth. The callouses. The way their forearms press together and settle in the space between their thighs. Her nail polish is chipped. His thumbs are wide. The slight rocking of the train slightly rocks them, and their bodies move in tandem without trying.

Akaashi leans back slightly and uses his free hand to take a photo.

“Here,” he says after a moment of contemplation, shoving his phone in her face. “How does that look?”

Maybe she looks for too long, but there’s something off about it. It looks so much more contrived, converted to pixels on the screen of his phone. Or maybe it’s just that it’s harder to pretend this isn’t a ploy for someone else’s attention when his affection is documented like that. When she looks at her hand in his in a photo it’s a reminder that this is simply evidence captured just to inspire jealously.

Her eyes drift between the screen and the hands between her. He hasn’t let go yet, which she’s trying not to read into. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“Good,” he says, his thumb tapping against her knuckle. She watches as he opens Instagram. “Should I tag you?”

She shakes her head. “No, let people wonder who it is, at first. Maybe she’ll ask.”

This brings a slight smile to Akaashi’s face, and it makes her feel oddly sick.

Ever since he asked her, she’s given into a few delusions, considering it a serious possibility that this could just be Akaashi’s convoluted, roundabout way of getting closer to her. An excuse to hold her and post pictures of her and maybe even kiss her, eventually. That maybe he wants her just as badly as she wants him.

But no amount of mental gymnastics or bending of logic can deny that unabashed giddiness at the mere suggestion that she might speak to him. It’s hard for her to deny, when he talks to her like it’s nothing, when he holds her hand like it’s nothing.

She swallows and bounces her knee. “What are you going to tell people? I mean, like, when they ask about how we got together.”

Akaashi shrugs. There’s something loading on his phone screen as he lowers it to look at her. “I dunno. Maybe that one night we just like, hooked up and then decided to date.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, is that bad?”

“No,” she offers with a slight shake of her head. It feels bad. It feels the same way food poisoning or maybe the plague would. But she can’t logically explain that one, so she just says, “That should work, I guess.”

STEP THREE: LEAN INTO THE RUMORS GOING AROUND (THAT YOU STARTED)(ON PURPOSE)

INSTAGRAM akaashikeiji has tagged you in a post!

INSTAGRAM kuroo_tetsuro: bro that’s for sure you in akaashi’s post kuroo_tetsuro: since when are you guys going out???

IMESSAGE yukie: you and akaashi are dating?? since when??

IMESSAGE iwa: so were you planning on tell me that you started going out with someone?

INSTAGRAM heyheyheybokuto commented on akaashikeiji’s post: HOLY SHIT IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS? alisahaibi commented on akaashikeiji’s post: aww so cute! love you two

IMESSAGE kaashi: holy shit did that just work

The constant buzzing of her phone provides a pretty consistent distraction from her essay on the socioeconomic conditions of the working class that led to the Bolshevik revolution. Her head is swirling with thoughts of Akaashi’s post and the failed provisional government.

Her face drops to her hands, and her phone continues to buzz on the desk beside her, just as her laptop screen goes dark, nudging her unfinished essay out of her thoughts.

She takes a moment to press the palms of her hands into her eye sockets, enjoying the pressure and the way shapes sprout up behind her closed eyelids. Akaashi’s sitting out in their living room, probably, phone in his hands staring at notification from Alisa.

He’s probably going through her account, looking through her posts, careful not to let his thumb slip and like something on accident. He’s probably smiling down at her smile, heart pounding in his chest as he thinks about her and whatever comment she left on his post.

Akaashi’s been in love with her this whole time. For as long as they’ve been friends, for as long as she’s known him; his love for her completely integrated into his personality. When prompted to list what he likes about her, he will ramble about her sweetness and beauty and her intelligence. He will list off things that Alisa has and she lacks: grace in social situations, a distinct and unique sense of style, her ability to read and understand the people around her so easily.

It seems like, everything there is to Alisa, Akaashi loves it. Whatever it is.

Her phone buzzes again. She reaches for it.

IMESSAGE iwa: you can tell me about things, yknow

Her tongue twists in her mouth, and her head bangs. It crosses her mind, briefly, that this is a bad idea, and the fallout is not worth the maybe few weeks where she can hold Akaashi’s hand and pretend that he feels an ounce of what she feels for him.

She clicks on the notification from him, the post he tagged her in, and is surprised to see her own face, grinning back at her, bare-faced and nose scrunched. There are freckles on her face she didn’t hadn’t ever noticed before. She didn’t know he had this photo. He captioned it: My pretty girl.

It’s worth, she decides instantly. It’s so immediately worth it.

She opens up her photos, and scrolls passed blurry photos of crowded whiteboards and half-eaten vegetarian lunches to find a photo of Akaashi. One of him just outside their apartment in the middle of last winter taken when he wasn’t paying attention. He’s smiling, eyes crinkled and glasses falling down his nose as he buttons up his jacket. It’s a favorite of hers, as indicated by the small white heart in the corner. Every time she sees it, she smiles.

Without stopping to think of how both wrong and vulnerable it feels, she posts it, matching it to his. My pretty boy. Undeniable evidence planted.

taglist: @charlotterosea13 @quikhs @mdmraz @mollyrolls @nazwrites-2002 @hanadulsetaad @nokjhg @alexithemiyatic @kvrokasaa @wyrcan @baylz @soobin1437

[star4daisy]

so it's been two months since I've wrote anything and thought this might be a good way to get back into it heheh

may: 1 to 4 prompts: rose, dread, illusion, hopeless words: 731 @rosekillermicrofic

There were a lot of things Barty had been expecting to feel: happiness, excitement, anticipation, love. What he hadn’t predicted was the dread.

The anxiety that was taking over his entire body made him twitchy enough that the flight attendant asked if he was alright. He told her he was fine and asked for another glass of whiskey. In truth, Barty felt like he might throw up at any moment from the prospect of seeing Evan again after a year.

They had parted ways amicably and agreed to remain friends while they were unable to see each other, neither of them knew the amount of time Barty would need to stay away to solve the matters of his inheritance and to whom his father’s company would belong. He tried to do everything as fast as he could to be able to come back home. To Evan.

Nonetheless, it took Barty way longer than he would’ve desired to stay apart from him. Enough time for him to see Evan had gone on a date with someone else. Someone who kept popping up on his social media from time to time, more regularly than Barty liked. Hell, if it was up to him there wouldn't be someone else at all. It made him want to break his phone in half.

Sure, they had agreed they could go out with other people, but it didn’t mean Evan should have wanted to, even though Barty had been the one to suggest it. It had been more out of the idea that he couldn’t keep himself from fucking everything up due to not being able to have sex with other people.

Not because he wanted them, but because it was how Barty dealt with the hard things. It always was whiskey and sex for him. Sometimes coke too, but if he needed to work on serious business he couldn’t be going to the company after snorting. Well, he could. But considering the amount of times he had fucked up due to it while his father was still alive, Barty thought it would be for the best to keep it only on the weekends. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t fucked anyone else all year. He was only human. But he also knew it was different for Evan, he couldn’t have sex with people he didn’t have feelings for. So for him to take that step it meant something completely different than it did for Barty.

To be hurt by it might’ve been hypocrisy on his part, but he had never cared to be a good person. All that had ever mattered to him was to have Evan by his side. Barty had failed utterly like he did with most things in his life, or so his father used to claim.

Barty’s first vision of him looked like a dream, he couldn’t help but wonder if Evan was a figment of his imagination, an illusion that he’d been seeing ever since they had parted. Except that this version in front of him looked nothing like the one he’d been imagining. That version looked exactly like how Evan looked the last time they’d seen each other at the airport, his white dreadlocks pulled out of his face on a high ponytail that made his features even sharper. 

Now his hair was shaved but still discoloured, Barty had never thought he could look better and yet, once again, Evan managed. It was only when he was standing in front of him that Barty noticed Evan had been holding something in his hand.

A white rose.

“My rose,” were the first words out of Barty’s mouth.

“I missed you,” Evan didn’t look nearly as unsure as Barty had felt when he extended his hand and offered him the flower.

Barty took it, allowing their hands to brush together, he felt it nicking his skin and blood pooling out of it as soon as he held it. There were remains of dried blood on Evan’s hand too, Barty wondered how long Evan had been standing there waiting for him holding the beautiful rose close to his chest while it tore his hands apart.

Evan hadn’t bothered taking the thorns out of it. He never did. Barty didn’t bother stopping the too-wide smile that wanted to tear its way out of his face.

Perhaps they weren’t as hopeless as he once had thought.

[hayakawalove]

Test of Love (Chapter Two)

Chapter Two

Chapter one, All Chapters

Summary: You had so much fun with Suguru the last time you went out, so you decide to go on date number two.

A/N: Bit of a Suguru centric chapter. Gojo girlies, don't worry. He'll get his time.

CW: Borderline NSFW, alcohol W/C: 5,771

Credit to @benkeibear for the banner

Your body sinks into your chair, Yaga’s voice becoming a low hum in your ears. It was usually hard to focus at staff meetings, but it was even harder when you were only going over information you already knew about. That happened a lot. Being friends with Gojo offered many perks, one being insider knowledge about the inner workings of Jujutsu society. 

Your eyes focus on the map behind Yaga showing the last attacks until your vision starts to blur. God, you were so bored. A vibration coming from your pocket shakes you out of it. 

Gojo: What underwear are you wearing :) 

You: You’re annoying 

You: What underwear are you wearing 

Gojo: A lacy thong 

You: You’re full of shit 

Gojo: Wanna come find out? 

You stifle a laugh, which catches the principal's attention. 

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” He calls your name, squinting his eyes at you. 

“No, I apologize, please continue.” You say back, embarrassment flooding your system as all the teachers' eyes fall on you. Gojo pokes your foot with his, an easy smile playing on his lips. What a shit. 

You don't even get the opportunity to try to focus before your phone is vibrating again. It’s from an unknown number. 

Unknown: Hey, I had fun last time we saw each other, would you be interested in hanging out again? 

You: I would love that! What do you wanna do? 

You keep your eyes locked on the screen in your lap. You hadn’t saved Suguru’s number yet, but you knew exactly who it was. 

Unknown: The choice is yours, sweetheart 

You ignore the heat that begins to spark underneath your face. 

You: Why don't we go out to eat? 

You: I’m not picky on where, I’ll let you decide 

Unknown: Perfect. I’ll make reservations 

You were excited to see Suguru again. The two of you had been texting off and on ever since your date, and you really enjoyed his company. It was exactly what you needed after a long day of working your ass off. You did feel bad that you didn’t tell him the truth about your occupation, but you didn’t really have much of a choice. 

“So far the attacks haven't been anything too serious, but they are troublesome. I called this meeting together to let you know that we will start to have constant patrols near the school to try to avoid another attack.” Yaga steps to the side, briefly looking at the map before turning his attention back to the group of sorcerers in front of him. 

You rest your head on your hand and flick your eyes across the room. You were at a loss on what to do about this situation. You were busy thinking about Gojo and Suguru, when you should have been thinking of ways to handle the problem at hand. 

“Hm, no.” Gojo says calmly, his hands behind his head. 

“No?” Yaga repeats. 

“No.” Gojo tilts his chair back until it’s almost about to tip over before he leans forward again. 

“We should have the students survey the area to get experience. The curses aren't too high of a grade so they should be able to handle them easily. We can cycle through the first and second years so they get breaks from patrolling. I mean, the students are here anyway. We can send out recent graduates to handle the larger threats, they can also jump in here if needed. And if it gets really bad then we’ll only be a few miles away.” 

Silence settles over the room. It wasn’t a bad idea. The students went on missions anyway. You didn’t have to be worried about them being too far out of reach, either. 

“Do you think they’re ready for that?” Yaga asks. 

“Yeah, Yuuji might need a little more training but everyone else is fine. Unless, you have no faith in your students?” Gojo says your name. 

“They can definitely handle it.” You look towards Gojo. 

With his plan, higher level sorcerers would be freed up to handle bigger threats. You wouldn’t tell him, but he could be smart. Sometimes. 

“Alright. We’ll try Gojo’s plan to see how it goes.” Yaga sighs, calling the meeting to a close. 

You stretch your arms while walking back to your classroom. You were so fucking tired. Between texting Gojo and Suguru, you haven't been getting much sleep. Luckily, your students were out on a mission today, allowing you time to catch up on grading papers. At least you wouldn’t have to use too much brain power. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Gojo asks, long legs striding up beside you. “Who’s that?” He peers over your shoulder to look at your phone, watching as you type a message to Suguru. 

“Don’t worry about it, and my classroom. You should probably go to yours as well.” You unlock your door and enter, not bothering to close it behind you as Gojo would only kick it down. 

“You didn’t wanna see my lacy thong?” 

“Maybe next time, Gojo.” You stand next to your desk and turn around, tilting your head back to look at him. 

“How does tonight sound?” Gojo says with a wicked grin. 

As much as you wanted to hang out with him… 

“Can’t. I have a date.” 

“And it’s not with me?” He looks at you dumbly. 

You laugh, you hadn’t told Gojo about your date with Suguru. You didn’t really see a need to. 

“You’re in an open relationship, isn’t it only fair that I can see who I want as well?” Not that you were necessarily official with Gojo. 

Gojo pouts, staring down at you as you step closer. 

“Is it your first time seeing him?” His blindfolded eyes follow you as you stop centimeters in front of him. 

“My second.” 

“Did you guys go all the way last time?” 

Your throat feels dry at the question. 

“It’s none of your business. And no. We didn’t even kiss.” 

Gojo’s shoulders relax a bit at your admission. 

“Aw, you jealous?” You joke, lifting a finger to point into his chest. 

Gojo grabs your hand, yanking you closer. It catches you off guard, leaving your feet to wobble. You use your other hand to steady yourself against him. 

“I don't have any reason to be jealous. You’ll be crawling back to me after your little date.” 

The oxygen feels like it’s sucked out of the room, his lowered voice simmering in your stomach. Gojo lowers his blindfold to highlight his point, his blue eyes staring hard into you. 

“Is that so?” You ask, breathlessly. 

When did his lips get so close? 

He hums before leaning down closer. His woody cologne fills your senses, making you immediately dizzy. Gojo watches your expression closely before his white lashes flutter shut while he presses his lips against yours. Soft and sweet. His lips were like sugar as they meld to yours. There’s no tongue, but you don't need it. Your body temperature is rising all the same. 

He pulls away and smirks down at you before stepping away. A cocky bastard. You run your thumb along your bottom lip, indulging in the tingling sensation that lingered on you. 

“I don’t need to be jealous if I got to kiss you first.” He says with a chuckle, turning around to head out of your classroom. 

You can't deny the heat that was beginning to spread in the lower half of your body. You would be a liar if you said you had never thought about kissing him before. It happened only seconds ago and you were already replaying the scene in your head. At least he kissed you, you weren’t sure you would’ve made the first move. Even if you were glad he kissed you, a part of you hated him for leaving you high and dry. 

“Have fun on your date!” He calls out over his shoulder, turning the corner to exit the classroom. 

Bastard. 

You huff and settle down into your seat, hoping the rest of the day would go by faster. 

~~~

Luckily for you, it does. And strangely enough, Gojo hasn’t texted you at all since your encounter with him. You were kind of expecting him to pester you for details about the date. It wouldn’t be too far out of the realm of possibilities for him to show up and insert himself. That would be funny, you thought. Gojo and Suguru together would be interesting. They’re on opposite ends of the spectrum, the mere idea of them interacting puts a smile on your face. 

The sun is beginning to set as you gather your things to head out for the day. Suguru told you what restaurant you guys were going to, not that you had ever heard of it. He also said he wanted to pick you up if you’d allow it, which you graciously accepted. The restaurant was higher end, in a richer part of Tokyo. You had only ever been to that area several times with Gojo. You were kind of nervous to go, feeling slightly out of your realm, but you knew you would have a good time if you were going with Suguru. 

You stand in front of your mirror, rubbing your hands down your outfit. You decided on a black dress that landed just above your knees, the perfect mix between sexy and classy. 

Checking your phone, an idea pops in your head. Would it be weird to send a picture of your date outfit to Gojo, considering you were also seeing him? 

Yeah. Probably. 

Oh well. 

You lift up your phone and take a picture of yourself in the mirror, checking it before sending it to Gojo. Right as you send the photo to him, a notification pops up at the top of your screen. 

Unknown: I’m here, are you ready? 

You: Yes! 

Grabbing your clutch, you hurry outside to find Suguru waiting for you. He’s leaning against his car, head tilted as he looks around. When he brings his eyes to you, you feel a chill down your spine. He reminded you of a fox. He wore a black button up with black slacks, his hair tied up into a neat bun. 

“You look beautiful.” His velvet voice floats over to you. 

Your eyes flutter down at the flattery as you make your way closer to him. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” 

Suguru chuckles and steps aside, grabbing the passenger door handle to open it for you, resting his hand against the top of the door so you don’t bang your head. His car smells like wood and leather, an intoxicating scent that instantly fills your body. He rounds the car before sliding inside the drivers seat, eyes flicking to look up at you. 

“How was work?” He asks, pushing the keys in the ignition before pulling out of your parking lot, driving towards the restaurant. 

“It was okay, my coworker was kind of getting on my nerves today. He kept getting in my business.” 

Suguru smirks, arm flexing as he grips the steering wheel loosely. 

“Sounds like someone I know.” He responds easily. 

The building comes into view and it looks even fancier than you were expecting. You could see the low lights past the windows with tables evenly spaced throughout the place. There was even a terrace on the top, apparently a rooftop bar according to Suguru. You make a mental note to see if he would bring you up there after you ate. 

Suguru gets out before you and opens your car door again, causing your heart to race. You had never been with someone so gentlemanly before. He offers an arm out for you to take, leading you towards the front door. Once you step inside you’re able to see just how busy it is. There was a short line in front of you, and it looked like every table was taken. You remember that Suguru told you he made a reservation, which eases your nerves a bit. That being said, you still felt out of place. 

When you get to the hostess table, a young woman glances up at you before doing a double take, eyes settling on Suguru. 

Can’t say you blame her. 

“Hello sir, did you have a reservation?” Her eyes gleam as she bites back a grin. 

“Yes, under the name Suguru.” 

“For 7 pm?” She looks back down, studying the list in front of her. 

“That would be it.” He lifts a hand up to brush his palm against your arm, wordlessly comforting you. He must’ve been able to tell you were nervous. 

“Oh, it looks like we accidentally double booked the table. Let me go and see if the other couple has already arrived.” 

Suguru’s brows furrow and you bite your lip. What would you do if your table wasn’t available? You really didn’t wanna go back home, and the two of you were already dressed so nicely. 

The woman returns with a somber look on her face. She fidgets with her hands while looking up at Suguru, completely disregarding your presence. 

“I’m so sorry, it seems your table was already taken. We can put you next on the list for when another one opens up?”

“Do you know when that might be?” You ask. 

She looks down at you, as if she just realized you were there. 

“Probably 30 minutes.” 

You and Suguru stand in silence for a moment, debating your options. You could wait, but you were also really hungry, a fact Suguru must have noticed. 

“I think we’ll look for another restaurant.” He excuses you both, a soft smile on his face. 

As the two of you exit, you look up towards Suguru. 

“I can always cook something for us back at my house. I don’t think my boyfriend will be home for a while.” He wonders out loud, checking his watch. 

“No! It’s okay, I wouldn’t want to intrude like that,” you say quickly, “why don’t we just walk around and see if we can find something nearby?” 

Suguru squeezes your hand and agrees, walking alongside you down the sidewalk. There’s a slight breeze in the air, ruffling your hair as you make your way further down the street. It was extremely busy since it was a Friday night. There were groups of young people congregating together, laughing loudly. It had been awhile since you spent the night on the town. You honestly rather preferred to stay curled up in bed with a good book in your hands, but you couldn’t deny the joy you felt as you walked beside Suguru, weaving your way through seas of people. 

“Oh! How about here?” You point towards a food truck parked on the side of the road. 

Suguru’s brows fly up in what you assume is surprise before he trains them back down. He didn’t seem pompous, so you were hoping he wouldn’t complain. 

“I haven’t had their food in awhile.”

“You’ve been here before?” You whip your head towards him while pulling him closer. 

“Yeah, my boyfriend really likes it.” 

Weird, the only other person you know who eats here is… 

“What can I get for you!” A cheery older man says, poking his head out the side of the window. 

“Did you know what you want?” Suguru asks you. 

“Oh, um, I’ll just get a slice of the cheese pizza.” You murmur, looking at the menu printed on the side of the van. 

Suguru orders a slice of the same, and the older man takes his money and trades off two paper plates. It looks greasy and wonderful, just how you remember it being. 

“Thank you!” You exclaim, grabbing your plate before sliding to the side, standing at the edge of the sidewalk.

The pizza melts in your mouth the second you take a bite, the golden cheese sliding down your throat. You let out a groan of approval, stopping in your tracks when you notice Suguru’s eyes on you. 

“I-I’m sorry!” You fluster out, cheeks immediately heating at the attention. 

“It’s cute.” Suguru whispers with a small grin, before taking a bite of his slice. 

You bite back a smile as you sink your teeth into the pizza. Honestly, you had no idea what you had done to get so lucky. Most women dream of dating a hot, sweet, funny guy. And you had two of them? You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. 

A gust of wind blows by, causing your body to shiver. Suguru steps to the side to block the wind from chilling you further, reaching a thumb out to swipe a bit of marinara sauce on your lips. 

The action almost felt parental, but you were beginning to notice that trend with him. It seemed like every action he did was in care of you, constantly looking for ways to help out. 

“What did you want to do once we finish?” He asks, already halfway done. 

You ponder the idea for a moment. Really, your options were endless on a Friday night. Suguru was still a bit of a stranger, so you weren’t really sure what he liked to do. Your eyes drift around the area you’re in, taking note of the establishments. A bright sign catches your attention. 

“Do you like dancing, Suguru?” 

Suguru’s eyes follow yours, seeing the club that stood several businesses away. There was a line out the door, but it was moving pretty fast. It had been awhile since you’d gone to a club, but the idea sounded very tempting. It was fun to let loose, plus you wanted to see what Suguru looked like under the flashing lights. Maybe that was a selfish desire, but you craved it. 

“Yeah, is that where you wanna go?” Suguru laces his hand with yours once you finish eating, the two of you walking towards the club. 

Just like you thought, you aren’t waiting long before you’re already in the front, flashing your IDs to get access. A waft of alcohol hits you in the face along with the cool breeze of the AC. It was slightly cool outside, but you knew you’d need the comfort the artificial cold provided once you were packed with the other bodies. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” Suguru asks, his voice slightly louder than his normal talking tone in an attempt to speak over the blasting music. 

You nod your head and follow him to the bar, his hand holding yours tightly so you don’t lose each other. His palm is large in yours, easily overshadowing the size of your hand. His skin was warm, but not in an uncomfortable sweaty way. It felt calming, protective. 

When you arrive, you order a mixed drink while he gets a glass of whiskey. Hopefully the alcohol won’t get to you too fast since you had just eaten. The idea of being drunk in front of Suguru kind of mortified you, you still wanted to make a good impression. 

The alcohol burns down your throat as you sip the drink, setting it down on the counter once you’re finished, only to find Suguru’s eyes already looking at you. Just like you expected, he looked amazing under the lights. Flashing colors illuminated his face, his tall stature even more daunting when compared to the other men in the club who didn’t even come close to his height. 

“Let’s dance!” You yell over the music, digging your nails in his arm to drag him to the dance floor. 

He smiles as he allows you to maneuver his body, standing him in front of you. His cologne goes straight to your head as you press yourself against him, throwing your arms around his neck. 

“It’s a little busy.” He observes, mumbling in your ear. 

The brush of his breath against your ear causes you to gasp, gripping on him tighter. 

“It’s better that way, I won’t get embarrassed since no one will be watching me.” You respond. 

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” Suguru guides his hands up your body, the slow drag making you want to groan. He brings them back down and settles them on your waist, holding you tightly against him. 

You sway your body to the music, standing so close to Suguru that you can't see his face. You aren’t sure you want to see his face. The alcohol was flowing through your veins, and you were afraid of what you might do were you forced to acknowledge his presence. 

Bodies dance beside you, the heat of the room finally crawling up your spine. Your neck is starting to feel sticky already, but you’re too drunk on the moment to care. 

Suguru’s body feels hard against your own, and you can't help but find yourself wondering what he looks like underneath all his clothes. He looked strong, you could practically feel the muscles that bulged underneath. Your mouth begins to salivate at the image you start to conjure up in your head, the sight borderline pornographic. The more you think about it, the more you can feel your restraint begin to slip. It wouldn’t be so bad to make a move, would it? 

Bravery, it was a fickle thing, wasn’t it? 

You were in need of it every day for your job. You needed it so often that you tended to forget that what you were doing required it at all. Sometimes it was hard to summon. 

It also tended to be easier to use when you had the aid of liquid courage flowing through you. 

You drag your hands down, softly scratching the skin of his veiny forearms while you pull away from him. He looks down at you with raised brows, waiting on bated breath to see what you were going to do. The music changes, giving you the last boost you needed. You turn around, placing your ass against Suguru while grabbing his hands, guiding them to your waist once more, and you start to follow the music. 

You didn’t mean for it to be filthy, you really didn’t. At least that’s what you tell yourself. 

It was too hard to resist the beat of the music so you decided to let your body do the talking for you. Quickly the two of you find a rhythm together, your bodies moving in tandem. Suguru digs his fingers in your waist, keeping you pulled tight against him. You allow your eyes to flutter closed while you sing along with the music surrounding you, the vibrations of it filling your soul. 

“This feels so good!” You speak over the music, telling Suguru. 

“Hm, is that right?” He questions, guiding your hips back and forth. 

The lowness of his voice crawls over your skin, sparking a match deep inside your stomach. You meant dancing felt good, but now that you thought about it, your bodies pressed together also felt amazing. 

You throw a hand back, placing it on Suguru’s head, bringing him closer to you. Closer, you needed him closer. What the hell was in the drink you had? You were feeling unstoppable. 

You grind your ass against him harder, noting the way his hands tighten around you. It sends a rush of excitement over you, only beckoning you to go further. You run your hands over his arms again, delighting in the rumble you feel come from his chest. 

“Careful, baby.” Suguru warns, placing a slow kiss on your neck. 

How could he tell you to be careful if he was going to tempt you further to the deep end? 

“Or what?” You find yourself asking, looking over your shoulder. 

Fuck. 

You were treading on a thin line, and you knew it. His eyes are narrowed in on you, peeking at you from thin slits. He doesn’t look angry, he looks determined. 

Suguru reaches down, curling his fingers underneath the hem of your dress. He doesn’t pull it up, he just slides his fingers across your skin, causing goosebumps to prickle you. 

You lean forward slightly, pushing your ass out more against him. If he wanted to tease you, two could play at that game. 

It felt like you were the only two ones on the dance floor. Your bodies moved in perfect sync, almost as if you had danced this way with him hundreds of times before. Your mind was dizzy, drunk on the feeling that sunk in your chest. 

As you move, you’re able to feel something underneath you. You only have to glide back and forth several more times before you’re able to deduce what that something was. When you look over your shoulder you see Suguru looking down, his brows furrowed as he watches you grind against him. 

It’s as if he can feel your gaze, because he’s flicking his eyes back up to you. Your stomach immediately drops once you’re caught, but you still delight in the look he’s giving you. A low pressure builds in your core. 

He takes control, practically moving your body for you. You want to feel embarrassed, but you don’t. Not when you know that there’s probably twenty other couples doing the exact same thing. 

You feel like you’re a patient person, never jumping the gun on hardly anything. But in this moment, right now, you’re desperate. 

You turn around, wrapping your arms around him and yanking him down towards you. He instantly gets the hint, grazing his lips against yours. The two of you look into each other's eyes through heavy lids before you press your lips together. 

Kissing Suguru was everything you thought it would be and more. 

His lips tasted smoky like the whiskey he drank earlier on in the night. It suited him. You press your mouth against his harder, silently begging for more. No matter how urgent you felt, Suguru refused to cooperate. He moves on his own time, guiding his lips over yours while his hands trail down your back. It’s painful to wait, your body craving to taste him. 

Suguru slips his tongue through his lips, grazing it against yours before you open your mouth. Fuck, was the room always this hot? Your tongue molds against his, heavy breaths being shared between you two. He slides his hand down your leg, hiking it up against his hip. 

The new angle causes some friction against your core, leaving you reeling. If you didn’t have better self control, you might have just ripped your clothes off in the middle of the dance floor. 

You moan against his lips, making him smile. His fingers grip your leg tightly, so tight you’re sure you would have bruises tomorrow morning. 

His tongue easily follows yours, neither dominating or submissive. You didn’t care if anyone’s eyes were on the both of you. Suguru had you completely entranced. You were sure if he told you to do anything, you would do it. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, reaching up to pull his hair tie out. You run your fingers through his silky hair, appreciating the way it flows through each digit. When his hair falls down, you’re able to get a whiff of his shampoo and probably conditioner (there was no way this man didn’t have a multistep routine). The scent was that of lavender and frankincense. It was calming, just like him. 

Pulling back, you open your eyes to look at his face. He was so fucking handsome. Suguru’s lips follow yours, but you reel your head back even more, granting you just a sliver of space. How cute. His eyes flutter open to look down at you, as if offended you stopped kissing him. 

His amber eyes cause your breathing to stumble, the intensity punching you in your gut. 

“You’re a brat, aren’t you?” He asks, as if he already knows the answer. 

“Why don’t you come find out?” You respond. 

He stares at you for a moment longer, gaze calculating in the way he watches you. A pang of fear grips you, but it’s overshadowed by the alcohol in your system. 

“Let’s get out of here.” He leans down to whisper in your ear. It’s not a question, it’s a statement. One he knows you’ll agree to. 

Suguru pulls back, bringing his hand up to move some of your hair out of your face, behind your ear. He looks at you like you’re delicate china, something he wants to hold and protect. 

Fuck, you really feel bad for not being able to tell him the truth about yourself… 

You force yourself to snap out of it, too intent on enjoying this moment with Suguru. You place a quick kiss on his lips and tug him towards the exit. 

How long has it been since you got laid? 

The prospect of sex was rattling around your brain, making your mouth go dry. When you were dancing on Suguru you could tell he was big, and that fact only messed with you more. Could you take him? Something told you that he would make it fit. 

Suguru slides his keys from his pockets, opening the car door for you once more. Part of you wasn’t even sure you’d be able to wait until you got home to have sex with him. 

“Your house or mine?” You ask, out of breath from the anticipation. 

“Mine’s closer.” He starts the ignition, holding his arm behind your seat to back out. 

Of course he backs out like that. 

Your fingers twitch in your lap with the need to hold him again. The idea of sitting on his lap while he drove was almost too tempting. 

Suguru makes a series of turns until you’re waiting at a stop light, your stomach tingling. 

“Suguru, how much l-“ 

Suguru turns around and grips your chin. He smashes his lips against yours, effectively cutting you off. You can’t help the squeal that falls from your lips at his action. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, making you raise a hand to grip his shirt. 

“Be patient, little one.” Suguru murmurs, pulling back to look into your eyes. 

You furrow your brows, seconds away from groaning. The red hue on his face changes to green and he’s moving back into place, pressing his foot on the gas. 

Handfuls of nice apartment complexes pass by the car as you speed to his house, making you wonder just how rich he was. He said he was a freelancer, but you didn’t know of any freelancers who made this kind of money. 

“We’re here.” He says, easing the car to a stop. 

You lean forward to peer up at the building in front of you. It was incredible. It had to have been at least twenty stories, with glass paneling all around. You’re too busy gawking at the apartment to notice Suguru opening your door, waiting outside for you. 

“Oh, sorry. This is really nice Suguru.” You mumble, taking his hand as you step out. 

Your eyes are locked on the building as you get out, wondering what the inside looks like. It definitely had to be nicer than your place. You were starting to be glad that the two of you didn’t go to your apartment, you weren’t even sure you had picked the laundry up off the floor and here he was living lavishly. 

Suguru tilts your head back to him, garnering your attention once more. He presses his lips against yours, trapping you against the car. His mouth was much more frenzied by now, as he pulled away to leave hot kisses down your neck, sinking his teeth in your throat softly. 

You let out a quiet moan, which makes him grip you tighter. The two of you were beginning to gather attention, as you could feel the heat of people staring as they walked by. 

“S-suguru.” You mumble, tugging his shirt. 

He pulls back and looks down at you with feral eyes before stepping away. Suguru grips your hand, lacing his long fingers around yours while you follow him clumsily to the doors. He nods once to the front desk attendant before stopping in front of the elevators. Your body heat is steadily rising as you get closer to his apartment. His hand flexes around yours as the elevator slowly inches closer and closer to the bottom floor. 

The second the doors open he’s dragging you inside, pressing you against the shiny walls. His lips are back on your throat in an instant, his hot breath caressing your neck as he nips you. The elevator was too small, the heat the two of you were emitting only circulating making you even more dizzy. You moan and dig your nails into his shirt, pulling him closer to you. His hips press into you, and you’re able to feel his hardness again. 

Hell, if he wasn’t going to make it fit, then you were. 

Beeps from the elevator fill the small room as you slowly crawl to the next floor. Your eyes are glued to the red numbers at the top, watching them get higher and higher. 

Suguru sinks his teeth near your jugular and begins to suck, relishing in the groan you release. Your lips are slightly parted as you indulge in the sensation of his tongue working your neck. He was definitely going to leave hickeys, but you didn’t care. You bring your hand down and graze his crotch, brushing past his hard cock. Suguru takes in a quick breath, his fingers digging harder into you. 

The elevator beeps once more before you’re at floor twenty, the doors slowly opening. 

“Suguru-“ 

He pulls away and smashes his lips to yours before stepping away. The look in his eyes is a far cry from his appearance when you met him in that quiet bookstore. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as he leads you down the hall, perfect white tiles lining the path as you go. The wetness between your legs was beginning to borderline on uncomfortable, and a throbbing sensation was shooting up from your core. Suguru stops in front of a door and rips his keys from his pocket, jamming them into the knob. Simultaneously he’s turning his head to kiss you again, finding the fact of being away from you unbearable. You hold the side of his face and stick your tongue out, tangling with his as the door opens and the two of you stumble inside. 

“Oh, you’re home early.” A voice comes from inside the house. 

Suguru pulls away from you and looks over his shoulder. 

“Satoru, you said you wouldn’t be back until 11.” 

…Satoru? 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @constawrites, @spookysoowpprince, @reosnagi, @faerie-soirxx, @platrom

If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know, please specify if you want to be added for all my works or just this fic

[crguang]

RAHHHHHHHHH *ahem*

Fluffy Prompts 54, 44, & 8 w/kafka?

i have another req with #8 for kafka as well so i used the first two! also, im now realizing that this might not be as fluffy as you meant it im sorry hfejbfkf i feel like there are certain things kafka would only say in serious-ish situations

There’s blood on your hands. It stains your skin with a red that makes you uneasy, and you stare at your open palms for what feels like a lifetime; the seconds stretch into years spent immobile and helpless, rooted in a soil where nothing else will ever grow. A veil of near silence covers you and in the dim streetlight, only the unnerving dripping of water can be heard. Drip, drip, drip— each droplet falls in tandem with each beat of your heart and their synchronized melody disorientates you completely. You don’t know where you are, why you are here or what you’re meant to do. You don’t feel the cold despite the fine layer of snow blanketing the deserted street you stand in. You look up at the night sky and see no stars. Your tongue is numb and heavy with a sense of doom that you can’t place and your mouth stays shut in uncertainty. 

You look around in search of anything remotely familiar and in your peripheral vision, another streetlight flickers to life. Your steps are measured as you make your way to it like a moth to a flame. It stands in front of a narrow and dark alley that seemingly extends for miles. You can’t see the end of it, and the uncomfortable feeling that looms over you at the thought is amplified by the sight of a shadowed figure slumped against the bricked wall. You hesitate to get closer but your gut forces you forward, one foot after the other, until you’re planted in front of the black mass. It moves, the shape of its head slowly tilting up to meet your horrified eyes, and the breath is sucked out of your lungs at once. Even without a reliable light source, you recognize the soft color gradient of pink and lilac, dulled with the allure of death. The figure reveals itself to you; its shredded over-shoulder coat, ripped shirt, torn high-waisted shorts and distinct custom-made gloves as tainted as your hands slowly unravel under your nose to form what you instantly know is your biggest fear. A steady amount of blood seeps from a wound near the abdomen and stains what is left of the white shirt. Broken sunglasses lay on dirty magenta hair, and you are unable to look away. The figure— Kafka’s— mouth moves, murmuring words you can’t hear as there is only blood and water in your ears. Your eyes, frozen and unblinking, sting with the weight of unshed tears and your chest burns from the lack of oxygen. You don’t register your trembling hands or the world that spins beyond the two of you, you can only stare at Kafka’s dying body in dizzying terror.

A thick layer of sweat clings to your forehead as you awake with a sharp gasp, sitting up on the bed with a hand on your chest to make sure that your inability to breathe was only an effect of the nightmare you woke up from. Your breathing is heavy and labored, warm tears wet your cheeks with every quick blink of your eyes adjusting to the darkness of your bedroom and you sit there for long minutes just regaining your bearings. The glowing numbers of your digital clocks show that it’s only a little past midnight. Panic lingers in your tense muscles and your shaky fingers desperately reach for the phone atop your nightstand. The light hurts your eyes but your hazy mind can’t focus on the feeling, you fumble with unlocking it and opening your contacts, scrolling down the list of names until you find the one you’re looking for. 

A shuddering breath parts your lips, weak sniffles occasionally escape you, and the line rings and rings before the call goes to an automated voicemail. A pitiful sound leaves you. You redial. If you had all of your senses, you would have recalled that you had not heard from Kafka in almost three weeks. She does this sometimes, she disappears for weeks at a time due to the high stakes and stealthy missions she’s given. Depending on the risk, she can’t afford communications with you. Every so often, she tells you how long she’ll be away so you don’t miss her too much— her words. However, you presently cannot think straight, still haunted by the gory sight of her injuries. The call goes to voicemail. You redial. Voicemail. Redial. You start picturing the worst, the same constricting feeling of fear from earlier curling around your limbs until your knees are to your chest and your ragged breathing makes no sense to your ears. 

The line rings and your tears dampen your collar. After the third ring, someone picks up.

“What’s wrong?”

You hear commotion on the other end but the sound of Kafka’s raspy voice brings you relief so intense your whole body shakes with your next exhale. No doubt your labored breaths can be heard through the phone, and there’s a pause amidst some distant, unintelligible shouting.

“What happened?” Your eyes shut as you concentrate on the way Kafka’s words soften a touch.  

“When… When can you be back?” Your voice sounds weak and pleading, quiet in contrast to the racket of the other line. 

“I’m a little busy. Why?”

You don’t know how to explain your state of mind. Your brain needs to perceive her in front of you, in the flesh, to appease its morbid concerns and fully register the fact that she is alive. 

You sniffle. “I need to see you.”

More muffled shouting, an insistent alarm going off in the background, and Kafka’s annoyed sigh. You think she’s irritated by your demand but, like her previous ones, her next sentence is underlined with concern. 

“I’m wrapping something up, right now. I can be there tomorrow.”

You feel fresh tears well up in your eyes at the idea of waiting half a day to have her near. You try to steady your breathing and fail. You’re crying softly into the phone, now.

“No… Please come home, this doesn’t feel right…”

There’s another pause, and then, multiple gunshots ring out in succession. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, the noise worsening the rising panic in your chest. You don’t want to think about what she’s doing and the chaos happening around her, anxiety nips at you with each bullet being fired because it reminds you of the dangerous life she lives and that your worries are not entirely unfounded. The shots keep coming until the shouting dies down to complete silence. It seems the blaring alarm has also been dealt with during the ruckus; you can’t hear a thing save for what Kafka says next.

“It’ll take three hours. Sit tight, alright?” Her tone lifts at the end, meant to be reassuring in her own subtle way. 

You nod even though she can’t see you. “Okay.”

“Bye, bye~!”

Kafka ends the call. You inhale slowly and find that breathing comes a little easier. 

By the time the second hour passes by, you can barely bear the weight of your eyelids, but sleeping isn’t an option. Your mind is still restless and you dread the possibility of your nightmare coming back, so you distract yourself by playing games on your phone. You check the time regularly, anxiously, and when the clock announces exactly three hours after your call, two firm knocks resonate through your apartment. You practically jump to your feet to open the front door. 

Kafka stand on the other side with her usual, easygoing smile. It widens an inch as she sees you and it takes everything you have not to throw yourself at her immediately. A quiver runs through your hands. You step aside to let her in, fiddling with the handle, and quickly close the door behind her. 

“So, what was— Oof!”

Her sentence is cut off by your arm around her waist pulling her flushed against you. Your nose burrow into the crook of her neck, amidst her soft strands of hair, and you embrace her tightly to convince your brain that she’s here, alive and with you. You breathe in the faint scent of tobacco on her skin as her steady heart beats against yours and gently encourages your pulse to follow her lead. Kafka brings a hand up to pat your back somewhat hesitantly, then eases into the hug enough to rub along your spine when you don’t let her go. You both stand in the entrance of your apartment for some time, the soothing sound of your heater in the background. The remnants of fear your nightmare left you with are squashed by Kafka’s arm around you and her body pressed to yours. 

“...Better?” Kafka speaks up after a while, voice soft in the quiet of the room. 

You reluctantly loosen your hold on her and lean back slightly. Her bare fingers rest under your chin and tilt it upwards so you can meet her eyes. There’s a hint of concern in them that she lets you see despite the small smile on her lips. 

“Are you going to tell me what this was about? Or do I have to guess?” Her playful words mean to ease any lingering trace of turmoil. 

Now that you’ve fully calmed down, you start to feel the effects of your interrupted sleep. You blink slowly to keep your eyes open a bit longer. 

“Can we lay down first?” You ask quietly, rubbing your eye withh one hand while the other searches Kafka’s limp one at her side. 

She looks at you for a few seconds, thinking thoughts you’re not privy to, before replying, “Of course.”

You lead her to your bedroom and prompt her to lie on the bed, uncaring of having her outside clothes on your clean sheets. Kafka settles against the pillows and you follow suit, half of your weight on her as an arm snakes around her waist to keep her pressed to you. In the dim yellow light, with your face on her chest, you notice some blood spatter on her shirt. The sight brings you back to the tattered clothes soaked in her blood that you dreamed of a few hours prior. You close your eyes, willing the mental image to fade away. Kafka’s fingers brush the back of your neck and trail down your spine in repeated motions. You’re much more relaxed in her embrace and can talk about what happened without being gripped by emotion. 

“...I had a nightmare that you were dying in an alley,” saying the words out loud makes you feel ridiculous in hindsight, but she shows no sign of amusement or mockery. “It felt real. And I had no idea what you were up to these past weeks, so I… It felt real.”

Kafka doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder what she could be thinking about. Her touch doesn’t falter on your back, the only indication that she heard you at all. Exhaustion creeps up on you, but you’re getting a little nervous at her lack of response. You feel the need to explain yourself further. 

“Sorry if I pulled you from something important… All I could think about was your— your body laying there, bloody and alone, and I got so scared because your work is dangerous and I never have any way of knowing if you’re okay until you come back. I wasn’t thinking straight, I thought—”

“Don’t think about anything. Just tell me that you love me and hold me tighter.”

The rest of your excuses die in your throat. She pulls you impossibly closer and you mutter low confessions into her chest until your speech slows and sleep claims you completely. Kafka holds you through the night, fingers playing with the hairs on the back of your neck, staring at the still shadows on your bedroom ceiling. She doesn’t tell you that no one has ever worried about her death before and that it’s a strange feeling to know that this primal instinct to fear finality is born out of your genuine love for her. She sits in that thought for hours. When the sun begins its ascension in the sky and her consciousness is starting to slip, her lips brush the top of your head as she murmurs her own well-kept love confession.

[drurrito]

Move Along

AN: literally just wrote this bc i refuse to journal!! I'm also off a melatonin gummy so all mistakes are mine

Warnings: it's angsty, a little suggestive, probably cursing

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

Wanda rides out her high while you watch from below. She falls over with a dreamy sigh, her arm falling across your chest and her fingers curl against your neck. You pull her in closer with a kiss atop her head. You let her mindlessly play with the hairs on the nape of your neck for a few moments until you catch the vacant look on her face.

"S'wrong?" you mumble, not really expecting anything to come of it. Wanda doesn't say anything for a few beats, and that makes you turn towards her, lifting her chin with the softest grip, her eyes choosing to look at the lamp on your nightstand.

"Wanda?"

"Vis asked me to come see him in Hamburg," she's still not looking at you.

"Oh? Like a weekend trip?"

"More than a weekend trip," she shrugs, "for the summer, said I'm too far away for his liking."

"You guys talk like every night, don't you?" you tilt your head, cocking a brow.

"That's not the point," she lightly flicks your ear. You both have had this flirtationship/friends with benefits thing long before Vision ever came into the picture. You weren't used to competing for someone when he came around, you still aren't. Wanda used to think it was cute how you always acted like you were at the top of her roster--because you were--at least until Vision proved to be a top contender. You never hit the gas, but you never hit the brakes either. You've just been cruising like always, and Wanda absolutely factored that in when she was making her decision about Vision.

"Y/n," Wanda eyes finally land on yours, her hand moves down to cup your cheek, her thumb grazing against your skin.

"It's getting serious, between me and him."

"Okay," you knew this is what she was getting at the whole time, she's always been too nice to just come out and say things like this.

"Okay?"

"What am I supposed to do about it?" You gently grasp her hand and prop yourself up on your elbow, "he's sweeping you off your feet from miles and miles away, and I'm just, here I guess."

"There's nothing else you want to say to me?" Wanda sits up too, she wraps the sheets around herself while you sit there at the crossroads you hoped to never reach.

It was always going to end this way.

Maybe, deep down, you hoped that by the time this day would come that you would have figured out the right way to go about things.

But you haven't and that's on you, so you have to take this on the chin and keep it moving like you used to do.

"Y/n?"

"When do you leave?" You turn to face Wanda in time to watch her shoulders droop.

"Thursday," her reply is curt. You wince, it's Tuesday.

"So this is it then?"

"You're not even going to try to keep in touch?" Wanda frowns while you chew on your lip.

"And talk about what, Wanda? How amazing it is to live with the guy that has way too much money to shower you with gifts for so many lifetimes?"

"It's not about the money y/n-"

"It's the effort, I get it. But I've been here, Wanda--more than Vis has, even."

Wanda opens her mouth like she's going to say something, but she just sighs instead. You're right, you've been here, but not in the way she needed, wanted you, and you both know that. You never bothered to evolve beyond a fuck and a flirt, and Wanda realized she had to give up on waiting for you at some point.

She just didn't expect for it to happen so soon.

Wanda reaches for your hand, taking it in hers when you don't pull away.

"I'll always remember this, us," she lifts your hand to her lips and releases it with a kiss. Your jaw twitches with an emotion you thought was long-lost. Wanda moves to get up from the bed, but you still her with a hand on her own.

"Stay? Just for tonight?" You curse yourself with how much that resembles begging, and you barely have the courage to look Wanda in the eyes while you wait for her answer. After tonight, nothing will be the same, so the least you can do is just savor what's left of it now.

Wanda's eyes soften, you'll always be special to her. She wordlessly nods and climbs back into bed with you, pulling you close to her chest. Wanda pretends that she can't feel your tears on her skin. You finally relax and fall asleep after a few minutes of her whispering sweet nothings into your ear while drawing patterns across your shoulders and back.

As much as Wanda wishes things were different between you, she knows that life will leave her behind if she keeps waiting around for something more to happen.

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

You wake up, the other side of the bed is the coldest it's ever been.

[cattordi]

a/n i may start writing again whoooo knowwws???

summary chris is announced sexiest man alive and you show him much you appreciate his sexiness

pairings chris evans x notfamous!reader

warnings smut, tons of praise, oral sex, kinda un accurate bc i’m not familiar w/ how ppl are named certain titles/given awards, not proof read, fluff etc. 18+ MINORS DNI

literal sexiest man alive

“i just got named “sexiest man alive.” chris says as you walk back in the room. dodger is laying at the foot of the bed and chris is standing as he just walked into your bathroom into your room with sweat pants that lay low on his waist.

his body is covered in tattoo, which is one of your favorite physical features about him. “are you serious? congratulations baby!” you say as you give him a long kiss. his hand slides from your back down to your butt as you break the kiss.

“it should’ve been ‘hottest couple alive’ like cindy crawford and richard gere that one year.” chris says and you laugh. “um for 1. they split like a year after names that and 2. no one knows me or that you’re with me.”

at that moment dodger hops off the bed and heads out the room, his tail wagging behind him. “im proud of you though.” you say and plop another kiss on his full lips before attempting to break from his grasp. he holds onto your waist tightly with a faint smirk.

“chris, why do you have that look?” you ask and he hums. “what look?”

“the look you make when you want to say something, but you won’t.”

“i wanna celebrate.” he says and you gleam with approval. “glad you can get your words out hun.” you say teasingly and he grabs your ass hard.

you kiss him again, this time for longer so he picks you up. “i’m so proud of you.” you say between kisses as chris lays you onto the bed.

he leads a trail of kisses down your sheer tank top that your nipples are straining against. “thank you.” he hums as he pulls your shirt up exposing your breast. “you’re the sexiest woman alive.”

he takes your nipple into your mouth and slides his huge hand into your shorts rubbing your clit; starting slow but getting faster with every moan you let out.

“look at me baby, look at me.” chris pleads and you do. your eyes meet his as he slides your pants downs your legs and to your ankles.

when his warm breath hits your throbbing clit, shivers zoom up your spine. “you’re so gorgeous baby; so gorgeous.”

his praise gets you off just ask much as his mouth on you. he always says the right things and always hits the right spots.

“i’m coming.” you say and chris continues licking and rubbing at the same pace. when you come, your vision becomes white and you see stars.

“you taste so good baby.“ chris says as you come, “so fucking good”

when you come down from your high, chris’ pants are off, which you assume came off when he was eating you out. he takes himself into his hand and strokes slowly watching you.

“let me taste you chris.” you say but he shakes his head. “i need to be in you now.”

opening your legs, chris gets a full view of your throwing pussy which makes his harder than ever. “i’m about to fuck the shit out of your pretty pussy.”

you mean lightly as he positions himself between your legs and pushes in. though you’ve been with him for 2 years, you’re still not used to his size.

“you’re so fucking big chris,” you moan out as he starts moving at a slow pace.

his hips thrust and his movements starts to get faster. the sounds of both of your panting and praises fill the room. “you’re so tight hun, goddamn” chris says and a bit of his boston accent slips out.

“right there chris.” you say just as he hits the right spot. you’re vision fades again and you arch your back as you moan loudly.

at the sight of you coming on him, chris comes with you causing his thrust to slow down and him to fall onto you, leaving wet kisses on your forehead.

“you’re so fucking beautiful.” chris says.

“yeah but you’re the sexiest man alive.”

[patchworkorphan]

The Hero and the Infant: part one

Is this title my cheeky little nod at EPIC the musical? Absolutely, enjoyyyyy!

*~*~*~*~*

The heroes came running when the world was on fire. They always came running. Hero was at the bar, where they always were, watching the news. A neat whiskey clutched between bandaged fingers.

The door slammed open. Hero didn’t have to turn to know it was Superhero’s sidekick. “Hero –”

“Not interested.”

“But Villain –”

“I know. Don’t care,” Hero replied. Daryl, the bartender, shot Hero a look and Hero pretended to not see it.

Sidekick sat on the stool next to Hero and ordered another: “whiskey; neat.”

“Mmm, I love being bribed,” Hero smiled, winking at Daryl.

“Villain’s destroying the city.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“And you’re here, drinking.”

“Perceptive,” Hero purred, taking the whiskey glass from Daryl and pouring the honey liquid of it into their glass. “They’re a minor,” Hero whispered to Daryl conspiratorially.

“I’m not.”

“Well, then. You’re on the clock. Can’t fight crime if you’re impaired.”

“And yet somehow you manage.”

“Somehow, I’m always called in on my day off. Blame your boss for disrupting my plans. Not the other way around, sunshine.”

Hero took a sip of their drink. In their peripheral vision they saw Sidekick turn their body to face Hero. Mmm, getting serious. Hero loved serious Sidekick. It’s like a puppy trying to be mean.

“You know Villain best –”

“Bullshit. Your Superhero knows them longest.”

“Villain likes you best,” Sidekick amended, and Hero nodded.

“So? Are we match making heroes and villains now? Is that Superhero’s excuse, hmm? Will that same explanation slide if I come up against a new villain?” Hero put on a high-pitched voice as they said: “oh I’m sorry superhero. This new villain’s rising sign is Virgo. I’m a Scorpio, we’re gonna clash.”

“This is different, and you know it.”

“How is this different? Because your beloved Superhero says so? Are you just a little dog with no mind of your own? Does Superhero whistle and you come?”

“I’m not here to trade insults, Hero. God knows that could well be your superpower,” Hero took the words as a compliment as the kid continued: “I’m here to ask you to help me stop people’s lives being ruined. Normal people’s lives. Fuck Superhero. Fuck villain. Fuck the whole fucking system. I’m here to ask you, to help me. Please.”

Hero looked at Daryl and Daryl looked at them. Hero rolled their eyes and tipped their head back, the whiskey running hot down their aching throat. Then they stood. Empty glass on the bar. Hero shrugged their trench coat on and patted Sidekick’s shoulder fondly.

“Pay Daryl for me will ya? And a big tip, for the inconvenience. See you tomorrow, Daryl,” Hero waved over their shoulder. Whistling as they walked out the door of their local pub.

“Thanks Daryl,” Sidekick said, paying the man and leaving a generous tip.

“Thank me all you want kid. Hero’ll just be back in here after the fight. It’s good to see them getting out, even if it is under these circumstances. Y’know ever since –”

“I know, Daryl. Thanks.”

“Later kid.”

Sidekick followed Hero out the door, where Hero was waiting a lit cigarette hanging from their lips.

“So,” Hero asked, flicking their zippo lighter shut with a satisfying click, shooting Sidekick their signature lazy smirk. “What’s Villain up to today?”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[leia-doodles]

Monster high G3 rant

Watching the TV series and I’m kind of disappointed.

This will be my second watch of season 1, I’m rewatching after the current season 2 episodes.

the show feels very flat in my opinion. They’ve given the characters a lot of cool traits, but they’re used for like one episode and then never brought up, or they only use one specific trait 24/7. Like Frankie in this generation, they have the ability to electrocute, extend their body parts, and they get visions from the people they’re made out of. Specifically they get visions from this one recurring doctor/ scientist. The idea is cool, but the vision literally is there to give exposition about something conveniently. Like when they are trying to solve the puzzle of clawdeens mom, Frankie’s vision just conveniently tells them what to do and how to do it.

In that same episode, we see manny taur. A Minotaur character. And right away we are just told that he’s good at puzzle solving, and so is draculaura! They’re rivals! But this is the first time I’ve ever seen or heard about draculaura being into puzzles, let alone her one sided rivalry with manny. And as the episode ends, she’s like “well you can be the rightful puzzle master” but it feels so flat. There has been no build up to this moment.

Another example is lagoona. In her designated episode, she is rooting for torelai to win the fear-leading captain over draculaura (another thing that has no build up as to why it’s important to her) lagoona explains that torelai is holding a secret over her head, and if it gets out she will lose her status as the fiercest monster in school. But this is the first time we have heard this!! In previous episodes there’s no mention of her being scary or fierce. Or even her super fast swimming skills. It’s just brought up and glosses over with a “be who you are, it’s okay to like what you want! We all have secrets 🥹” but there’s no real character development.

My last example will be the way draculaura is presented in this series. From what she tells us, she has high standards to live up to as a vampire. She needs to look good for her day so she studies endlessly and is striving for perfection. But she also has a love for witchcraft, which is banned in monster high due to its connections to humans. This can be a cute premise, but they NEVER show draculaura compared to any other vampire to show how she’s supposed to act. They never give us episodes where she blows off her friend’s shenanigans because it makes her look bad, and they never really show her dad being so overbearing. They don’t show us WHY humans are hated. And even though witchcraft is banned, whenever anyone finds out about it they’re just cool with it? No push back or anything. The only character to challenge draculaura was torelai.

This all may be very nitpicky, but MH is a character driven franchise. Character relationships with each other and their surroundings are very important to me. I want to feel the so called pressure these characters are being put under. It doesn’t have to be ultra serious 24/7, but issues get resolved within one episode and then rehashed a few episodes later with no further development. Especially with characters like Cleo and lagoona. They have been benched as side characters in this show, and side characters get much worse treatment.

‘The general episode progression is like this - introduce an issue, introduce a high stakes situation that involves the school, have all or one of the main 3 engage in a sequence of fights against this issue(or rapid solving of said issue through convince) - issue is resolved and lesson is told to viewers-characters reset for the next episode.

I know this is a children’s show, but that doesn’t mean it needs to have bad writing, not all kids are high off cocomelon. Kids deserve good writing in their media!

My next rant will be about clawdeen and her story this generation