#the worst part is that I'm not even surprised this is exactly what I expect from this fandom at this point

[fromtheseventhhell]

Saw someone say that if TWOW gets released they aren't going to bother rereading the books, just wait for someone to make a "what you need to know" recap post/video...my dreams of this fandom choosing literacy have died 😔

[scififettuccine]

Homelander x SupeTeen!Reader

Idk ya'll Homie has really been getting on my nerves recently. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this one at first, but I LOVE the way it turned out. It was a doozy but it was SO FUN to write! This isn’t proof read just yet so please don’t yell at me💀

Summary: You meet your biological father for the first time at Vought Tower after your adoptive mother's unexpected passing...he's not exactly what you expected.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Homelander (Obviously), death of a parental figure, mentions of death, manipulation tactics, awkward parental conversations???

Being a Supe had never been easy for you, though, luckily you had never been forced to live in a lab. Soon after you were born, one of the Vought scientists had taken you in as her own, -due to the fact that your biological mother had died during childbirth- directly going against Vought's policies. She was found out eventually, to no one's surprise...but this breach in policy gave headway to a new experiment. So, she was allowed to keep you and raise you as her own. You were raised as any other child would be, but you were treated with extra caution...and being the only Supe in school wasn't exactly a cake walk. But the worst thing you had experienced was a little bullying, but your doting, caring, adoptive mother put an end to that rather quickly by talking with the school board. The first 15 years of your life were...tolerable, if not ideal. It was supposed to stay that way...until your mother was found dead at her place of work.

It had only been two weeks since your mother died. In those two weeks, you had been relocated and told, verbatim, that your father was one of the most iconic Supes in the world...Homelander. Now? You were sitting in The Seven's meeting room at Vought Tower, anxiously toying with the handle of the swivel chair you were sitting in. Part of you was still just...numb. Everything you had ever known had been ripped away from you seemingly overnight. Any other child would be over the moon...but you? You were just...detached. You were pulled out of the endless depths of your own thoughts when a voice echoed off the walls of the room.

"Hey there, kiddo!"

You looked up from your anxious fiddling, and were met with the blindingly white smile of your biological father. You did your best to give a convincing smile back, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. His presence wasn't exactly the most comforting. He tilted his head to the side a bit when you didn't respond.

"You're Y/N...Right? Hopefully we didn't get the wrong kid...that would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Homelander asked with a laugh. He sort of stopped in the center of the room, looking you up and down, like he was trying to evaluate you...to decide your worth. You nod sheepishly.

"Yeah...yeah. That's me." It honestly didn't help that you were the age that you were...it made it more awkward somehow. Homelander didn't say anything for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to say something else. When you didn't, he sort of chuckled.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" He asked. You had opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "I guess that's understandable. Meeting your old man for the first time is no small feat..." He paused for a moment as he evaluated your expression. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom...tough stuff there, kiddo." You took a breath when he mentioned your mother. It was all so fresh...and there were so many things you had recently learned that she had never told you. You didn't even know she wasn't your biological mother until after she died.

"Mmm...Don't be sorry...not your fault."

Oh, the unknown irony of that statement.

Homelander let out a small scoff and frowned. Admittedly, the frown looked incredibly fake...almost like he was mocking you.

"Still...I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I mean, to find out that she was keeping so much from you...after she died...? That must pack an even worse punch." You sort of stiffened in your seat. You weren't exactly stupid...you could read his tone. He was hiding his insults towards your mother with a cruel, mock sympathy.

"She only did it to protect me...I know she did. She wasn't a bad mom, she was amazing, actually." You respond, almost matter-of-factly, your eyes glowing red ever so slightly. "I know raising a Supe couldn't have been easy for her...she had her reasons." It was incredibly hard to talk about your mother in any way, considering she had only died two weeks ago. Homelander sensed your tone, and put his hands up as he noticed the flicker of light in your eyes. It suddenly became clear to him that you couldn't control your powers, which almost made him smirk.

"Hey now, of course she was...Absolutely no hard feelings towards your mom...But I know I would have never kept things from you like that. And registering you at a public school, knowing you're a Supe? That's just...cruel." You were going to continue defending your mother...until he mentioned school. That was something you couldn't exactly convince yourself was a great move on your mom's part.

"School was...a different story. It was rough." You said, pulling your legs up onto the swivel chair so you could hold your knees to your chest. Homelander nodded as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands now at rest behind his back.

"So I've heard...I spoke to your therapist." That comment turned your stomach a bit. Wasn't everything you spoke about with your therapist supposed to be confidential? Homelander noticed the slight change in your expression. "Don't worry, Y/N...I didn't dig into any of the gritty teenager things..." He chuckled, "I was just curious to learn about your school situation. You're a sophomore now, right?"

"Yeah...I will be. In the fall." You said quietly. Homelander smiled, where he now stood beside your chair at the point of the uniquely shaped table.

"Well that's fun, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled out one of the other swivel chairs and pulled it towards him. "One more year and then you're one of the big dogs." You nodded, watching his movements as he sat down, facing you. Everything about him just seemed so...strange. Even the way he moved. It looked almost calculated...and was mildly unsettling.

"I guess..." You said quietly. You sighed as you rested your chin on your knees, grabbing onto the table to reluctantly turn your chair to face his...it was only polite.

"You don't seem too thrilled..." He started, his blue eyes meeting the identical set that you possessed, "Was school really that bad?" That was more of a rhetorical question on his part, he knew everything about you.

"The teasing sucks...They call me 'Laser Eyes'..." Homelander stifled a laugh when you said that, to which you narrowed your eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" He said with a chuckle, "That is the stupidest insult I've ever heard!" Homelander took a moment to stop laughing before he looked back to you. "Look. I'm not laughing at you, kiddo. I would never. But Laser Eyes...? Really? They couldn't come up with anything more original? I mean...Even I'd be hesitant to insult you considering you could just laser them in half." He said. His smile was almost manic looking.

"What?" You asked, almost dumbfounded. "I would never...I could never." You said. You pulled your chin off your knees, your eyes still narrowed.

"Why couldn't you? You're a Supe...aren't you? I mean...mommy swooping in and bribing administration to take disciplinary action against those little shit stains isn't exactly making you out to be the strongest person..." You almost immediately sat up correctly in your chair.

"She bribed the administration...?" You ask softly. Homelander gave a mock frown as he noticed your eyes become glossy.

"You didn't know? Gosh...How much was she keeping from you?" You swallowed as he spoke and tried your best not to cry. The last person you wanted to look pathetic in front of was Homelander...Especially considering his earlier comment about it not being a good look that your mom always had to swoop in and save you. "Awe..." He started, scooting his chair closer to yours. "Don't cry kiddo...It's not your fault that you're so lost...It's hers." Your eyes met his once again, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you quickly reached up to wipe away.

"Lost?" You ask. Homelander nodded.

"Well, most Supes your age, with your abilities usually already have a professional presence...Or at least know how to use their powers correctly." He said, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "I mean, had I raised you? Had you not been wrongfully stolen from me after you were born? You'd already have a place in the Supe community, followers...maybe even a contract with Vought. You wouldn't just be floating in your own little bubble...You'd have a group. A family." Something in you broke when he spoke. Your mother had stolen you from your biological father? And had he raised you, you wouldn't be so...you? So lonely and misplaced? You couldn't help the tears that slid down your cheeks. It was as if your entire life had been flipped upsidedown.

"She...S-she really kept all that from me?" You asked. Homelander tutted softly, almost pitying you. He stood up and held out his arms.

"Come here, kiddo..." He said softly, with a tone of empty sympathy. You almost immediately stood up and buried your head in his chest. At this point....What else did you have? Who else did you have? He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you, his hug firm, considering he was so much larger than you...yet comforting, despite the strange material of his suit.

'It's alright, Y/N...You're right where you need to be. We'll get you up and running with those powers of yours in no time..." He said softly, resting his chin on top of your blonde hair. He caught the reflection of the two of you in the large window that lit the room and his grip tightened, almost possessively. "You're not alone anymore...got it? You've got your dad to keep you company..." You nodded against his chest, sniffling.

"Got it." You responded softly, hugging him a bit tighter. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Homelander, no, your father was what was best for you. How could you have been living in the dark for so long without realizing it...? You were truly lost. But everything was okay now. You were finally safe, in your fathers embrace.

Homelander smiled wickedly at his own reflection in the window before he rested his cheek on your head. Finally...he had you. His own child that he had been trying to get his bloody hands on for years...Losing another Vought scientist was a necessary sacrifice in the bigger picture of his perfect narrative...and it all started right here. With you. His child. He smiled as he pulled away from the hug, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders.

"How does a milkshake sound, huh? I know Planet Vought has a double chocolate one that's yummers." You smiled and nodded as he moved his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"I love chocolate." You said with a small laugh. Homelander chuckled as he turned you towards the door of the meeting room and started walking, his firm hand on your shoulder urging you forward.

"I know."

————————————————————————

I hope ya’ll enjoyed! I left it open for more parts so totally let me know if you’d be interested in reading more. Writing for Homes is always a questionable adventure 💀 Until next time, Adieu!

[luludeluluramblings]

Bruce Wayne's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader - Revised

A/N: I honestly have no idea where this came from. I just wanted to revise it and then I spiraled. I'm just trying to keep the creative juices flowing and attempted to add dialogue. Next thing I know, I wrote this. Maybe it's the on coming fall? Fall is my time of year. Still might make some more revisions to this and other's. Especially if I keep putting off the main story.

A/N: Consider this a test of me adding more lore to Reader. It'll help Smalltown make sense when we get there in the next two parts. Or, at least I hope it will.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Link to Original

Yandere Type: Platonic Father

Reader’s Momma is Adeline

Reader’s step-father, Daddy, is Samuel

Bruce was obsessed with Reader as soon as he saw the little bitty picture of them in that tiny hospital crib. And, for a while, that single picture was all he had of them. 

Imagine the surprise he felt to come back for a six month long mission off planet to find out that the brief relationship he had with a woman from outside of Gotham had produced something. 

He’ll admit, he hadn’t been that careful with Adeline. She was a gorgeous and charming woman, with just a hint of a wild side. She had been just a bit too sweet for his taste. Sweet enough he wasn’t too concerned about any lasting consequences. She had been quite understanding when he had ended things. Perhaps a bit too understanding. 

He had to find out through court papers that sweet Adeline had actually been more his type than he expected. Bruce didn’t expect her to even have a bitter side. But, apparently, she could be petty and spiteful, and had some damn good lawyers. 

Bruce hadn’t expected to get Adeline pregnant. He understands how it happened, and he made sure to lecture both Jason and Dick about being cautious after the whole ordeal, but he hadn’t expected it. And, he most certainly hadn’t expected Adeline to keep the whole thing under wraps before filing for full custody with no child support or visitation. 

To say Bruce was pissed was an understatement. The Wayne lawyers had dropped the ball on this matter, and subsequently been fired. They had wrongly assumed this was some revenge publicity stunt, and that Reader probably wasn’t his. 

But, he saw that little picture. That sweet face laying in the hospital cradle. Those were his mother’s eyes on that little baby. His mother’s eyes. 

Of course, Bruce tried to do damage control. Claiming he hadn’t known about the court date (which was true). But, Adeline had some damn good lawyers and had made sure to do all the court procedures out of state and out of his circle of influence. 

He did manage to get one thing. The DNA test. Not because he doubted that Reader wasn’t his. But, so Adeline couldn’t win completely. She could remarry. She could leave the birth certificate blank. She could fill their child’s head with lies about him. But, that child was his. His baby. 

Naturally, the results came back with absolute certainty. Reader was his. And, he had to fight himself to not drag Adeline back to court. 

Hell, he had debated on proposing to her. Forcing her to marry him. He was willing. Adeline was sweet and gentle, and this side of her, despite how much it was pissing him off, was quite attractive. The pettiness, the cunning, the protectiveness, weren’t exactly turn offs for him. 

Luckily, Alfred had pointed out to him that he was being irrational. Sure, it wouldn’t have been the worst idea he had, but Bruce wasn’t going to give up being Batman. Not at this time. Not yet. 

Would he really be able to handle a newborn and a pissed off wife on top of Gotham’s crime? What if something happened to them in Gotham? What if history repeats itself once more? 

Reasonable and both unreasonable questions. 

That being stated, Bruce concluded it would be best to let Reader grow up outside of Gotham. He couldn’t give up being Batman for them, but he could at least let them grow up without Gotham’s smog sinking into their bones and marrow. 

Not to say Bruce didn’t just let Reader linger in the back of his mind as a spare thought. He thought about them often. But, he was always careful. 

His enemies grew bolder and more numerous every year. 

Bruce had resigned himself to one day a year to dedicate all his time to checking on Reader. One day where he would hack anything and everything for information about his child. Adeline’s phone and social media for pictures of Reader. Milestone updates for Reader’s pediatrician. Preschool footage to see his child toddle around and make friends. Researching those friends and their parents to make sure his child was safe. One single day a year.

He nearly lost it when he found out Adeline had met another man and introduced him to Reader. It enraged him further to see the wedding pictures. To see this man holding his child in his arms with such a loving smile and pressing a kiss to their cheek while holding Adeline in his arms. 

He had done background check after background check into this man, Samuel. As much as Batman and Bruce Wayne could without arousing suspicion. 

And, he was clean. A good ol’ boy. Focused on family and minding his business. And, he was good at business.

Samuel owned a massive regional construction company. Not as wealthy nor diverse as Wayne Enterprises, but stable and steady. He had a secure income, not a negative thing written about him ever. In fact, if Bruce had met the man under different circumstances he probably would appreciate Samuel’s practicality. 

But, his first introduction to this man was from watching a video that Adeline had filmed of Reader having a birthday party. Of Reader making a wish, blowing out the candles on their birthday cake. 

“What did you wish for, baby?” He could hear Adeline’s voice in his mind. A warm loving voice that was the prelude to his heartbreaking. 

“I wanna little brother!” Bruce watches as a sweet grin forms on a frosting covered face, every time. He’s watched this video over and over. Memorizing the words. Memorizing the smile. Memorizing the sprinkles on the half eaten cake.

“Oh? What if you get a little sister?” 

“Nah, it’ll be a brother. I know it.”

“And, how do you know it, sweetpea?”

“Cause last year I wished for a Daddy and now I got one.” 

Those words are what breaks Bruce every time. Every single time. 

It should have been him being called that.

That was his child. That was his baby. He loves them. He’s done so much to keep his distance. To keep them safe. 

Now, he’s resigned to watch as another man treasures his most precious thing. Probably the only innocent thing that will ever come from his existence. 

Alfred had a hard time convincing him that this was for the best. That he needed to let it go. 

Until now, he had accepted that it was necessary. Gotham needs Batman. For a moment he was ready to give it up.

But, then Jason died. (Temporarily.) Something broke when that happened. Bruce realized if Gotham could take Jason, it would’ve taken Reader, too. 

So, even though he hates it. Even though he is so bitterly jealous of Samuel, living a peaceful life with his child. Even though he would do almost anything to hear his child call him Daddy. He keeps being Batman. 

He has to at this point. Gotham took his family, and he won’t let it take anymore. Not ever again.

[mouseymilkovich]

First I wanted to tell you that I really love the way you write, you have me checking the app every minute. ✨️🤭

And second, I wanted to see if you'd like to write an idea that came to my head: it's about Carmy, maybe going to buy something or just walking around, who meets the reader (who is his first and great love), but due to different circumstances life separated them. They start talking and Carmy discovers that she got married, had a son and is now divorced and his eyes light up with this information.

Maybe he knows the reader's son in this integration or just knows of his existence

I'm really excited to see what you write (whether it's my request or not), I can't wait. 🌻❤️

oh yes. oh yes yes yes. i love this. the idea of step-dad!carmy???? yes. ALSO!!! THANK U SM

Content Tags: Uhhhh divorce mention ig??? Brief Claire mention too lol

Out of all the people in Chicago, Carmy had never expected to see you again. You were his first serious girlfriend— okay, his only serious girlfriend, considering how little time he'd spent dating between culinary school and now.

Of course, you'd forced yourself to move on with your life— you thought you'd probably never see Carmy again. You'd gotten married, had a kid, and now you were in the middle of a messy divorce. The worst part of things was deciding the custody of your son.

Your son, your beautiful son... Parker. Yes, you named him after your first love, Peter Parker... nobody else needed to know that, though.

Carmy had heard about your son through various people— Sugar, Richie, even Claire. Now, he was five years old, and you were going shopping to get school things for him. How much shit did a kindergartener need though, really?

Now, you weren't expecting to run into Carmy at Target. But you did. And you stared in silence at each other for a moment, before your son broke it.

"Mommy? You 'kay?" He asked.

You snapped out of your unintentional staring contest with Carmy, smiling a little at Parker. "Yeah, bud, mommy's fine."

"Who's dat?" He asked, looking over at Carmy curiously.

Carmy smiled awkwardly, anticipating how you would introduce him to your little boy.

"You this is mommy's friend, Carmen— almost everybody calls him Carmy, though." You explained with a little smile.

Friend.

"Uh, hi buddy. Yeah, I've known your mom for a real long time!" He nodded.

"Do you know my daddy too?" Parker asked Carmy curiously, tilting his little head.

"Oh, uh, no, bud. Sorry. I never met him. I'm sure I will though—"

"Probably... not." You muttered softly.

Carmy looked at you in confusion. Why would you not want him to meet your husband?

"We're in the middle of a divorce." You told Carmy quietly. You knew Parker knew, but you didn't exactly like talking about it in front of him.

"Oh— um, I'm sorry..." He replied softly, though it was hard to hide the excited gleam in his eye, hearing that you were newly single.

"It's... fine. I guess. Just... shit happens..." You muttered.

"Shit!" Parker repeated with a little giggle.

"Parker! No, you can't say that—" You said, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Parker, huh?" Carmy muttered, giving you a little smirk. "Wouldn't be after Peter Parker, would it?"

"Oh my god, so what if it is!" You laughed. "Shush. Nobody else has figured it out."

Carmy laughed softly, rolling his eyes. "So, um... just shopping?"

"School shopping. My boy's going to kindergarten!" You told Carmy with a proud, but slightly sad, smile.

"Damn... really?" He muttered softly. "Shit. Where's the time go?"

"I don't know..." You muttered with a little laugh.

You stood in silence for a moment. Finally, Carmy took a deep breath as he plucked up courage.

"Do you... wanna catch up? Over coffee or something? Sometime, I mean."

You were a little surprised by the question, but smiled. "Yeah... I'd like that."

"Can I come too?" Parker asked with big eyes.

You and Carmy both laughed, and you smiled at Carmy sweetly.

Carmy looked at Parker, and what he said just made your heart melt. "I would be honoured for you to join us, buddy."

Maybe this was the beginning of something better.

[jellyfishrnice]

Yandere! Rich Suitor

(part 2!)

When you arrived at the remote island your parents had sent you off to you expected nothing out of the ordinary.

You and Andrew would spend a month or two there at some expensive resort or already owned house of either of your parents, you'd squabble with him from whatever topic came up in your conversations, and then you'd part ways at the end of the trip with no differing thoughts of each other. Same as always.

Oh how wrong you were.

-

"Y'know, you have pretty eyes."

You stared at Andrews light eyelashes with his hazel, almost green eyes. You never looked too hard but the purple ambient light of the bar you two were in only added to his features.

You were both drunk out of your minds and the bar was only 15 minutes to close, around 3 am if you had to guess.

"I could say the same to you," Andrew slurred while holding an empty glass of whatever liquor he had just finished off. He rested his head on the wooden bar and stared at the empty glass, then back to your face that was propped on your hand.

Bam!

You didn't even notice your face planting onto the counter, the sound didn't even faze Andrew who stared at your hair.

He reached out to touch it.

Surprisingly, you didn't flinch. Normally when you both were sober, maybe it was the liquor that stopped you from slapping his hand away but touching each other was deemed one of the most horrible acts to commit, but right now all he wished was to be closer to you.

He played with the loose strand of hair and you turned your head to face him.

With how close your faces were to each other, you were surprised how long you two had gone without arguing with each other.

"Can we go home," you mumbled while staring into Andrews glazed over eyes.

He nodded and slowly sat up straight, letting go of the small strand of hair.

You both stumbled out of the bar, with him fishing for a cellphone in your purse while you leaned on him for any type of support.

You managed to pick your head up and look at his flushed face. The neon glow of the bar lights illuminated his blond hair and the way his pretty eyes starred off into nothing was way more enticing than it should be. You stared long and hard for what seemed like forever.

Then you did something you never ever thought possible.

"Andrew."

"Yes?" Andrew replied while looking down at your (for once) soft gaze.

You grabbed his face with both your hands and planted your lips onto his. His lips were soft but slightly chapped, and he tasted like vodka and something else you couldn't put your finger on.

You still don't know why you did it, but all you remember after that was blacking out and waking up in the resorts bed the next morning, with a pounding headache and a sore neck.

-

"You're not leaving."

You had never been scared of Andrew per say. Yeah you've been angered by him, very annoyed recently and at worst wanting to rid him of this Earth.

But never scared, it made sense to not be scared in your childhood and early teenage years, and maybe it was pushing it when he started to put in muscle and grow taller; but you never had a reason to fear him.

Until now at least.

'Stay calm stay calm stay calm'

You repeated the phrase in your mind until you could find the words to hopefully get Andrew to stop acting insane.

"Andrew, look, I know what happened between us last night was weird but I'm sorry I wasn't trying to lead you on, but please just stop."

"Just stay here for a while, I know I haven't been exactly pleasant towards you, but please give me a chance," he muttered into your shoulder while softly playing with a strand of your hair.

You took in a deep breath to try and stop yourself from clawing his face off.

That would only make things worse considering he could easily overpower you, you shuddered at the thought of him going even further than he already had.

"Okay, I'll stay-just- please back away for a minute," you exhaled and let your hand leave the door knob despite every part of your body wanting to yank on it until it broke off or the door opened. Andrew seemed to relax a tiny bit at your words before slowly letting his arms unwrap themselves around you and instead back away. You didn't know if you could outrun him, but it wasn't worth a shot considering the nearest sign of civilization was about a 30-minute drive.

You exhaled a small sigh and dropped your bag from your shoulder onto the floor, and you turned around to face Andrew who was still relatively close but now you at least had a couple inches of personal space. He looked almost as much of a hungover mess as you, with his blonde hair hanging messily over his shoulders and face and slight bags under his eyes that you had previously never seen him with. But he had an odd look in his eyes that made you even more uneasy than you already were.

"Listen, Andrew, I'm sorry that I kissed you last night, I was drunk and I was stupid- I'm just- can we please forget about this?" You pleaded while brushing a hand through your hair. Andrew stood there for a moment, seemingly trying to figure out how to put together the words he wanted to say.

"Did you know, " he started, pausing to swallow the saliva that had been building up in his mouth, "I have never kissed someone before last night?"

Your eyes widened while trying to figure out how Andrew of all people hadn't even kissed someone! He was handsome, rich, and unfairly charismatic when he wanted to be. Before you could say something, Andrew held up his hand to signal to wait.

"I just never saw the appeal I guess, until last night that is," he said while trying not to hold eye contact with you for too long or he fears he might explode from shear embarrassment.

"But with you, it's as though," he paused again to gather his words and look down at his hands, "you awoke something in me that I didn't even know was there." His shy demeanor, despite his intimidating size, reminded you of a schoolboy confessing his long time crush to the girl he liked. It would have been cute if he hadn't practically forced you to stay in the beach house.

"I- and now that I felt whatever that was, I want to feel that again." He looked back up at your face, your pretty eyes and soft lips,he didn't know how he missed your beauty after all these years of being around you; but now he so desperately wanted to cradle it in his hands and-

"What?!" You shouted, interrupting his train of thought. Your fear from earlier seemed to have disappeared or at least been overcome by pure annoyance.

"So you're telling me," you took a breath to try and calm yourself, "that just 'cause I kissed you one time, that automatically your entire life of hating me just- poofed it's way out of existence?!"

"I-" Andrew tried to speak, but you quickly cut him off, you were borderline shouting but were trying your best not to completely explode from anger.

"So your entire reason for not hating me anymore is because I got your dick hard?!"

"No that's not it at all-"

"Go find someone else for you to explore your newfound 'feelings' with, I'm not gonna be your experiment just 'cause you've never gotten your dick wet before!"

You sighed and let go of the large breath you were holding and rubbed your eyes to try and figure out what to do with Andrew. Maybe you could set him up with one of your other friends who longed for a hot sugar daddy or something.

Walking past Andrew and back into the kitchen to hopefully find some aspirin or something to cure your now worse headache.

Andrew stared at the floor in front of him, in alm his life he had only cried once. When his dad stained his new tie that he had gotten as a gift from his grandma, other than that it had never happened; it was pretty much not even an option for him. But now he feels the unfamiliar feeling of his throat tightening and his eyes welling up with tears.

You saw him just standing there, and for a moment, you felt bad for him. Then you remembered how he had pinned you to the door, and it quickly disappeared. Swallowing the pills with a glass of leftover orange juice, you walked back to him where he was standing in the middle of the living room and awkwardly patted hid back.

"Look Andrew, I know it's hard when you discover romance or whatever," you sighed while rolling your eyes, " but the only reason you think you like me is because you've never given anyone else a shot, I can set you up with one of my friends even." You tried to lighten up the mood. Some of your friends might be into the whole toxic, pinning someone to a door thing.

Andrew was quiet for a moment before looking at you with red eyes and sighing. You were relieved that he had finally come to his senses, soon enough you two could put this whole thing behind yall and continue hating and at best tolerating each other.

"Have you... been with others?" Andrew asked quietly while tucking a stray hair behind his ear. You hesitated before replying.

"I mean- yeah; most people our age have had sex-" before you can even finish your sentence Andrew quickly traps your fave between his large hands and smashes his lips onto your.

Your eyes widened and you imminently tried to get him off of you, but your shoves against his broad chest didn't even register in his mind.

His inexperience shined through as his teeth cracked against yours and how he tried to immidelty shove his tongue in your mouth, but it didn't seem to bother him at all with how he let out small whimpers, trying to push his body as close to yours as possible.

He lowered his hands from your face and around your waist to haul you off the floor and onto the nearby couch, hovering over you but still putting enough weight to stop you from moving.

When he finally pulled away, you tried to scream something to try and get through to him, but one of his large hands covered your mouth, and he looked at you with pure want in his eyes.

"I can -" he tried to catch his breath, his second kiss with you leaving him breathless and red in the face. He gulped before speaking, "if you did it with others, you can do it with me," he let out a shaky breath before quickly shedding his shirt.

"A-andrew- listen- please- " he shut you up with another kiss, if you could even call the rough mouth full of tongue that, and slowly grinding against your thigh.

Your heart was beating so fast and you didn't notice the very noticeable bulge in his sweatpants. You thrashed and tried to get away from his grip but it only spurred him on more. He let out a patheic moan at the way you gripped the back of his hair and pulled hard, him pawing at your shirt, trying to get a taste of your soft, sweet-

He cried out when you bit his tongue, the taste of iron filling both of your mouths. He pulled away for a second, his hair sticking to his forward from the light sheen of sweat, his cheeks red and his eyes full of wonder from the pure pleasure of only humping against your soft thigh.

"You've known me your whole life, if you can have sex with someone you've only known for a few hours, you can definitely do it with me," he panted while humping your soft leg and referring to your many hook ups over the years. You felt like tearing his face off with the way he talked, like a teenage incel whose never even seen pussy. He sped up with his thrusts and laid his forehead in the crook of your neck, licking the sweat that had come from the heat.

Before you could speak, he interruptedyou with a loud breathy moan, his sweatpants now having stain and his cock growing softer against you.

For once, you couldn't say anything.

But soon you felt his cock hardening again and you knew it would be a while till you could escape, so you grit your teeth and just waited till he hopefully had his fill.

-

Hey yall sorry it took so long, I've been so busy with finals and stuff but here it is!! It's not proof read but I probably go back on it. Hope you enjoyed 🫶

Tag list! : @surprisemodafakas @kyoko-neko @kaeriustehe @kleoneli @purple-obsidian @strawberrie-me @lem-hhn

[dottiro]

A Dear in the Headlights

Unreliable summary: Your date doesn’t show up after hours of waiting; in frustration you drive over to Pantalone’s house, knowing he’ll always comfort you. / You get into a car accident due to a deer in the headlights—deer, dear? Does it matter? Warnings: Yandere, car crash, implicated kidnapping, Pantalone is rich, descriptions of dead/mangled body(ies), DEAD DOVE DON'T EAT Note: This is a rewrite of THIS fic from my old blog.

"Hey, it’s me. Your phone has been going to voicemail for a while—you’re probably asleep, but I'm almost at your house. I know, I know, I shouldn't have come to your home in the middle of the night, but once again; you were right."

You press your lips together during the silence that follows. The road ahead is dimly lit by lanterns that do a poor job of showing the way. Only your solitary headlights indicate what's ahead of you. 

Disappointment has yet to leave your system as you recall the events from a few hours before."It’s annoying. I wish I could see through people like you do."

Earlier in the evening, you'd been getting ready for a date with a guy who never showed. Unfortunately for you, these occurrences have become normal. The worst part is that hope remains within you. No matter how often it happens, you still believe the next would be better. 

You wonder why those assholes bother to chat when they never plan to show.

A bitter sigh escapes your lips. You’re rambling again… how embarrassing. 

For a moment, you hope Pantalone will leave his voicemails unread. Perhaps that’d save you face when you’d wake him up in the middle of the night—but you know better. Pantalone does not let anything go unnoticed. Sooner than later, he’d pick up his phone to hear your aimless talking and waste of time. 

“Anyhow, I’m almost there. Since you gave me the keys to the gate; I’ll be entering your property. Sorry, not sorry.” 

There is a short silence before you end the voicemail. 

Although you know you shouldn’t drive and call, the road to Pantalone’s home was—and will always be—abandoned. Not once have you seen traffic coming in or out. Keeping one eye open will be enough. 

As you continue forward, the gates surrounding his estate come into sight, and no matter how often you see it, you continue to be in awe at how much he owns. 

You’re not sure what his job exactly concludes, Pantalone is a private person, but you know he organises parties for nobles in Snezhnaya. Only the top percentage of people are invited—vision wielders with high ranks, the top businessmen, and daughters born into money pleading for his attention; they all flock for an invitation so they can have the possibility to fall in his graces. 

By now, you’ve been able to guess he works as a finance minister for Snezhnaya. If not, something similar will be the answer.

Yet, despite his charming personality and social life, Pantalone continues to appreciate the quiet over the chaos of Snezhnaya’s capital. 

At the end of each week, he’d return home to his mansion for the weekend.

You can't blame him.

With one last turn, you arrive at the entrance to the large gate. Usually, it’s closed. However, tonight you find them wide open. 

You can’t find a reason why they should be.

The car slows down as you hesitate to intrude into his property. 

In the distance, a gentle light is cast inside his mansion. 

Is he still awake?

With uncertainty, you let your car roll past the gates, speeding up in curiosity. Wanting to be secluded, Pantalone has surrounded himself by nature to hide. You have to drive through the dense greenery before you reach the lights in the distance. 

Your frown turns into a smile when suddenly the upbeat tune of your ringtone echoes through the car.

“Pantalone!” You pick up, holding your phone to your mouth. Your voice is upbeat—you didn’t expect him to call back so soon. You’re surprised he doesn’t comment on its loudness.

“Dearest, would you be so kind as to tell me where you are right now?”

You raise an eyebrow before a chuckle escapes your lips. “Did you or did you not listen to the voicemail?” you ask. 

Only a mere few minutes have passed since you ended the one-sided call. If he had listened to it, he would’ve known that you were on the way—already approaching his home. 

Background sounds on his end of the call muffle his reply. For just a second, you take your eyes off the road to turn up the volume.

“Are you busy? I hear lots of people.”

You glance at the road as you keep one hand on the wheel. Then, you turn back to your phone, trying to adjust the volume again.

“Pantalone? I can’t hear—”

A loud crash makes you drop the phone before you finish your sentence. In a panic, you release the gas pedal; trying to break instead, resulting in the car drifting as it loses control. Instinctively, both your hands reach for the steering wheel. With all your power, you try to go against the current your car is trapped in—hoping to stabilise it, but failing as you drive over a hobble. Instantly, a thud is created, and something slams against your window, breaking it and shattering shards of glass across the front seats. 

Your arms fly up in front of your face, losing your grip on the wheel as you brace yourself. In seconds, you fly forward as another crash happens; and this time your car comes to a full stop. Instantly, the airbags register, pushing your body back into the chair with immense force.

Your ears buzz as you struggle to breathe, feeling like the wind has been pushed out of your lungs. A million thoughts enter your mind and at the same time, you can’t register any of them. Time passes too fast, yet too slow. You try to grasp what happened, watching darkness swallow you whole when the headlights flicker one last time before turning off. 

ㅤ

It’s dark, it’s silent. 

Faintly, somewhere distant, you hear the motor continuing to hum. 

The sound becomes louder and louder until you hear a familiar voice. 

“Y/n—?!”

Pantalone?

You hear Pantalone’s voice through your phone. A dim white light tells you it must still be in the car. With only the artificial- and moonlight to guide you, you try to recall your surroundings. Did your phone get thrown back to the back or front during your crash?

As the sound of voices continues to increase, they become deafening. With a throbbing head, you push the deflating airbag out of your way, clicking the seat belt loose and climbing out of your seat with shaky legs. 

You take steps forward. 

One… 

then two… 

—you think you stop after that.

Cold air falls into your face, embracing you like death’s hands tickling your face as he debates whether or not to take you with him to the afterlife. Behind you, the front door of the car falls shut. After the slam, the blinkers go off; beeping as one of the orange lights flashes on and off.

You take a deep breath. 

Your entire body pulses as your body sways. You have to put your hand on the car to keep yourself upright. Slowly, your other hand reaches for your head. Aside from the confusion, you don’t feel any pain. You wonder if it’s the adrenaline.

Right.

What did you hit again?

A deer?

You block out the distant voices as you make your way around the car. By keeping one of your hands against the metal surface, you circle it without losing your balance. 

Without the headlights shining the path ahead of you, it’s hard to see what might be on the street. But, even without lights, no one can miss the mangled silhouette crawling forward. Its legs are bent; one loose to a point where you fear it’d fully snap off if it continues to drag its limbs across the cement. 

Suddenly, its head turns up and it cries out like a human. The sound brings chills to your bones and the hollow feeling it leaves behind makes a sob escape your lips. A small button nose lifts into the air as it looks at the moon shining above the gates. 

You are paralysed.

A button nose?

The figure crawls again, using its twisted arms to move forward and dragging what remains left behind onto the concrete floor. 

You blink through your tears. The world continues to spin and you eventually force your eyes closed. The voices in the background are becoming increasingly louder, making your head scream as it becomes too much. Almost instantly, your body starts to feel warm as pain floods over your being.

The silhouette on the floor is still there when you open your eyes.

Long hair is matted with blood and dirt. Eyes threaten to cave in as the circles under its eyes claw holes in its skin. Sharp cheekbones peek out, cutting through the air as it drags its nails through the rubble, inching forward slowly but surely; much like a poor animal.

You now realise it’s crawling away from the house.

Right…

Pantalone.

You turn around back to the car. With the adrenaline leaving your body quickly, you need to tell him to call for an ambulance. 

Before you can do as much as turn, a light is cast upon you. At that moment when you see her clearly, the girl screams in agony—not in pain but out of despair. 

Her clothes are ripped, and blood pools up around the middle of her body and she seems skinny, underweight even. Likely, she was already in a bad state before the crash; underweight and starving at the least. Her figure is already dishevelled and now deformed because of you. 

Hysterically, she claws forward, further gashing her skin and leaving more blood in her trail.

The thick long stripe of blood going from her body to the end of the car; down under your feet.

Did you hit…?

…No…

“Y/n.” Pantalone steps between you and the girl. With ease, he shields the sight from your eyes. His eyes inspect your body,

Much as if you were his priority.

“Can you move?” he asks.

His figure is blurry yet his face is so perfect… much unlike the girl. Your limbs feel weak as the image is etched into your mind like an ugly scar. Every time you close your eyes, you see her. Even as the people surrounding you reach over to Pantalone to help, the cries only double and combust into a choir of anguish.

Pantalone says something to you, but you can no longer process what he’s saying.

He seems calm…

You think of how easy it’d be to fall in his arms and believe everything to be a dream. Surely, it must be—!

The back of his hand comes up to caress your cheek, dragging a line of thick blood from your forehead to your chin and staining his gloves

His eyes open, and the intense colours of his irises flood sense into your brain. With his hand keeping your head steady, he says, “you’re alright, my dear.”

Then, he repeats it.

You’re alright.

Pantalone wouldn’t lie to you. He hadn’t lied in the past, and neither will he now. You choose to believe him. 

His hands hold your face. He brings you closer until his lips fall next to your ear.

You diminish your thoughts as you let his voice carry over. 

You got into a car crash because you hit a deer. You lost control of your wheel, ran into a tree, and as a result of the impact you got a concussion—your mind is scrambled, trauma making your memory warped and untrue.

He repeats it, whispering the words like a gentle song as his arms turn you around. One hand creeps up to your neck, while the other pushes the small of your waist forward.

You got into a car crash because you hit a deer. You lost control of your wheel, ran into a tree, and as a result of the impact you got a concussion—your mind is scrambled, trauma making your memory warped and untrue.

Lights shimmer onto the roads. For a moment, you’d believe they’re fireflies. Voices surround you, either barking orders or following them with timid voices. Pantalone’s presence stands out among the others. His warmth makes you continue forward. You want to continue forward with him.

He repeats the words. 

You got into a car crash because you hit a dear. You lost control of your wheel, ran into a tree, and as a result of the impact you got a concussion—your mind is scrambled, trauma making your memory warped and untrue.

The next time you open your eyes, you’re in Pantalone’s room.

His silken sheets are a beautiful dark violet. They feel soft against your skin. When you place your head against the pillow, you smell his natural scent mixed with a soft lavender. It's different from the perfume he wears daily—more subtle and inviting—but you find that it suits him. You wonder if the lavender is a remnant of the many bath scents he uses.

You savour the short moment of your headache disappearing. The fresh and calm scent makes you want to turn around in his bed for longer. Your fingers dig into the mattress, enjoying the remaining warmth, and then you close your eyes.

You think of last night.

You clearly remember the date date-gone-wrong; and the crash too, but you fail to recall how you got to Pantalone’s house. Did you pass out?

You know you shouldn’t have called without driving, and you know you shouldn’t have assumed his roads would be abandoned as always,

But…

What got in your way…?

As you shovel through your memories, Pantalone enters the room unannounced. His expression shifts from a frown to something you’d describe as relief.

He apologises for entering before knocking. 

“It’s alright. I’m the one who should say sorry. I…” 

Your headache returns as you try to remember what happened. 

“I can remember crashing my car but everything after is fuzzy, like… a scattered memory or dream…?” 

You stop, taking a moment to find your following words. 

“It’s like my brain stopped working.”

Pantalone sits next to you on the edge of the bed and places his hand near yours. His fingers snake forward, reaching to intertwine yours in his. “The doctors tell me you suffer from a concussion. I believe it’d be best for you to remain in my care until you’ve recovered.”

“I’ve already made a big enough mess. I wouldn’t want to bother you more.”

You place your hands down on the blanket that covers your legs. Your fingers fiddle with the fabric as a way to distract yourself. Only now, you notice that you’re dressed in an oversized pyjama, which you assume is Pantalone’s. You are left to wonder when and how you got changed.

Pantalone tilts his head, eying you down from over his glasses. You know that look, he’s sent it many times before. Never does it fail at making you feel small.

He brushes his thumb over your knuckles and you realise he has shed his gloves. It’s a rare sight and you take comfort in his natural warmth when he squeezes gently.

“You can depend on me, dear. I’ve informed my assistant that I’ll be home this week. You only need to recover; let me figure out the rest.”

You sigh, letting out a mix of disappointment and frustration pointed towards yourself.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have called while driving, but—“ You groan in frustration. A fragment of yesterday flashes through your mind. “It just… ran in front of my car. I don’t know what animal would do that.”

You recall the first impact into the second. The pain in your body is a reminder of what it felt to take one hit after another.

When you lift your head from your hands—you gaze at Pantalone. The hand that had held you is now under his chin. He appears to be lost in thought, slightly frowning with lips pursed as a habit of focus.

“’lone?”

His frown turns into a soft smile at the sound of your voice and he puts his hand on your knee. “Sorry, dear. Just thinking.” He continues, “let me fix your problems. In the meantime, rest. I shall be here if you need anything.”

You watch him stand up from the side of the bed, patting your knee affectionately before disappearing into the corridor. 

As much as his presence calms you, you sense a feeling of dread.

You’re missing something.

You try to summarise last night’s events one last time.

It starts with the date. An hour before you left for the restaurant, he had messaged you; telling you he was excited and ready to see you. Then, when he fails to show up, you call him, but end up with an ‘unknown number’ response. He had blocked you. 

After this, you drive home, only to turn around as you arrive home and decide to head to Pantalone’s instead. You try to call him, feeling guilty for showing up unannounced in the middle of the night, but he doesn’t pick up and you leave a voicemail instead. 

You pass his open gates—did you open them?—and your cell phone goes off as Pantalone calls you within mere minutes of the voicemail being sent.

When you can’t hear him—why couldn’t you hear him?—you turn up your volume.

You crash… but you run into something first. 

What did you run into?

Something ran from the woods into the pathway.

You remember vaguely getting out of the car, but you’re not certain… 

What comes next…?

No matter how much you try to shuffle the events; certain things remain a mystery. Gaps are left unfilled as you toss and turn under the soft sheets. On the feathered pillow, you lay your bandaged head in defeat. 

You try to push the questions out of your head, letting the lingering scent of Pantalone consume your mind. When you close your eyes, you force the cries of last night out of your mind. A vague image of a mangled body comes up. You try to remember Pantalone instead. 

His reassuring words, his gentle touches. His generosity and never-ending patience with you; even in this situation. You think of how calm he is and how restless you are.

Sooner than later,

It’s not enough. 

You sit up and toss the covers from your body.

The cruel cold embraces you. A chill crawls up from your feet to your neck. You remember it similarly last night.

If you could, you’d stay in his bed forever. Alas, your mind plagues you and even he could not bring comfort in your darkest hours.

The room has been darkened, yet, stipes of stubborn sunlight continue to escape the cracks of the thick curtains. The time is evident to you even before you pull open one side. In the late morning sunlight, all of Pantalone’s property is visible.

Unlike last time, you now see his beautiful garden. At the window, you can see the gardener tending to the plants available in Snezhnaya below you. You see the few servants walk around at the front of his mansion. Then, your eyes follow the gravel path that’s framed by trees. 

Your car is gone,

But the long trail of blood on the street remains.

To your surprise, it drags into two directions, as if there were two separate entities. One seems to have combusted into a pool at a tree, while the other continues to drag towards the gate for a few meters. 

The image of a mangled woman pops up in your head. You remember her dirty and worn-out clothes, her leg that had been twisted at an inhumane angle, her bones that stuck out from beneath her skin.

“Y/n.”

You let the curtain fall from your grasp and you turn around.

Another flash pops up in your mind. You remember the stranger that walked up to you with the flashlight, the other people who Pantalone yelled at, the way the mangled woman started begging for her life when one of the men crushed her skull with his boot.

Two hands place themselves sturdy on your shoulders. You jolt backwards, but Pantalone’s hands keep you close.

His expression is peaceful. Gentle. Calm.

So many things you’re not.

He calls out to you again, dragging one of his gloved fingers like a familiar habit over your cheek. So so familiar.

His eyes remain closed and he users you back to his bed, telling you that you’re still unwell and that you need rest.

You ask him about the mangled woman.

He frowns.

“Dear, your brain is shaken from the crash. When I, alone, came to your car—you were passed out. I had to carry you back to the house.”

You ask him about the trail of blood and your missing car. 

“I first called a mechanic to drag your car away, then I called a friend who works as a vet to carry the deer away.”

Pantalone holds your head in both of his hands. His thumbs brush over your cheekbones, and he brings you closer to place his lips against your forehead; leaving chaos in its wake.

“The doctors told me your head suffered from injury after the impact. I feared I might’ve underestimated it. Your mind is already filling these gaps of your mind with horrid ideas. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you.”

He looks solemnly down at you.

“That, my dear, is why you should stay here. I can take care of you until you’ve recovered. I’ll call a private doctor for a check-up. He should be able to tell you if it’s advised to go home or stay under someone else’s care.”

You nod your head. 

It’s slow and unsure, but you show your trust in Pantalone. 

You’ve been friends for so long… He wouldn’t lie to you.

You trust him.

After all…

A ludicrous laugh escapes your lips at the notion.

ㅤ

“—as if a woman would be running at your property. It’s nonsensical, right?”

He smiles;

“Yes, it is.”

©dottiro. Do not copy, repost, translate, feed to AI, or take heavy inspiration from my content. Thank you for reading ♡

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XXII

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. I did not think of specific warnings here, but you'll let me know.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part XVIII, Part XIX, Part XX, Part XXI

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

“I’d say the worst part is doing paperwork after,” Shoko said, taking a can from the shelf and putting it in her basket.

After spending the afternoon together with Shoko, she had taken you into a convenience store saying she needed to buy some stuff. You did not mind doing grocery shopping with her, but when the conversation had shifted to her work and you commented how exhausting it must be for her to deal with all the aspects of being a doctor, you had not expected her to say the paperwork was the worst part.

“Is it?” you asked.

She gave you a silent nod but seemed to reconsider it. “Second worst.”

You could only imagine what the first worst thing on the job should be, but before you could say anything else…

“[name]!”

Shoko did not know who the voice belonged to, but by the way you looked past her and smiled, she believed you certainly did.

When the stranger came closer, she realized he had a familiar air but still could not seem to recall where exactly she had seen that face before.

“This is crazy, I was about to call you,” he was smiling at you, but the way Shoko was studying his face caught your attention. “Did you run out of shampoo again?”

Where have I seen that smile before? Ieiri wondered.

You returned his smile. “No, this time I’m here with...”

Shoko’s steady gaze on your friend’s face reminded you that they should probably be reintroduced. “Oh, right... Haruki, do you remember Ieiri?”

Now the two of them were studying each other’s face.

Haruki did, in fact, remember a version of Ieiri he had known in passing during his high school days, but the Ieiri in front of him looked more like the one in the pictures he had noticed in your apartment when he had been there. That was how he also got familiar with how Gojo looked now.

“There’s only three of you here,” he had pointed out, looking at the framed picture in your room that had captured a surprised Shoko trapped in yours and Satoru’s embrace. It had been the day she had passed the medical license examination.

“I guess it’s been the three of us for a while now,” was your only comment.

The moment of realization was briefly noticeable on Shoko’s face, but it was enough for you to see it and hope the telepathy you sometimes seemed to share would work this time too.

Yes, it’s him… Please be nice.

“The one and only Ieiri,” Haruki offered her a closed-eye smile. “[name] told me a lot about you. I heard you’re a doctor now.”

The faint smile that appeared for a second on her face reminded you of the Shoko who used to tease you when she saw you with Haruki back in the day, and the possibility of her saying something that would embarrass you finally hit you.

“Have they? Well, they told me a lot about you too.”

Oh no.

She went on. “Something about how you…”

“How you got that great job here!” you interrupted her before she could say something that would make Haruki uncomfortable. “That’s impressive, isn’t it, Shoko?”

The placid smile she gave you could have been well understood as an entertained smirk.

You might have told her a number of things that could be considered harmless; how Haruki had returned as if he had just rematerialized out of nowhere, how you had not expected to ever see him again, how shocking it had initially been that he was so eager to spend time with you and wanted catch up, and even more surprising, how it seemed you still understood each other pretty well.

As harmless as such commentary could be, it worried you that Shoko's matter-of-fact tone might make Ikeda uncomfortable if she repeated it.

Still, she nodded and did her best to sound sincere when she glanced back at him. “Yeah, that’s… great for sure.”

Haruki may have picked up on how Shoko’s words seemed a bit forced, but he showed no reaction. In fact, the way he effortlessly kept the conversation going and the soft looks he kept throwing your way reminded Ieiri of those afternoons in the coffee shop when he would engage you in a discussion about anything after you had given him a simple greeting.

He knows what he is, that’s for sure.

When Shoko stepped aside for a moment with the excuse of needing to pay for her things, Haruki said to you “You know? I was never able to tell whether she disliked me or not.”

If you gave it some thought, Shoko had never been too personal about her opinion of Ikeda either. You knew she had considered him “nice” when you were younger, and she had even been supportive of your feelings for him, or tried to, while she thought he was what you wanted.

“If that’s how it is, then that’s how it is,” had been her words.

But when he left, she had just hoped you would forget him so you would not hurt over him.

You looked in the direction Shoko had walked away. Now it was just you and Haruki in the aisle.

“Yeah, she can be hard to read sometimes,” you looked back to him. “You said you were going to call me. Why was that?”

His smile widened. “Are you free next weekend? There is something I want us to do, but it’s fine if you’re busy.”

“I’m not busy, but…”

For some reason, you thought of Satoru and how odd he still was about your friendship with Haruki, how he had asked if he was the reason you had wanted to get over your feelings for him.

Aside from a couple of meals, you had not been spending too much time with Haruki since Satoru told you he liked you and asked that you considered his feelings. Something Haruki had somehow requested too last time you had seen him when he passed that book over the table you were sharing.

“Don’t read the dedication yet,” he said softly placing his hand over yours before you could open the book.

If it means what I think he meant that time…

“Then let’s go out next Saturday.” He checked his watch. “Oh, shoot. I forgot I have to do something, but I’ll text you, okay?”

You swallowed any protests and nodded as you saw Ieiri walking back to you, plastic bag in hand, just in time for her to watch Ikeda shoot you another charming smile and run to the register himself.

Why could you not say no to him?

You liked his company, that much was true, but if he liked you the way you thought, would it not be better to make it clear that nothing would come out of it, especially now that you had your heart set on Satoru?

Because you were sure of your feelings, were you not?

“He hasn’t changed, has he?” Ieiri’s question pulled you out of your thoughts.

Indeed, he had not changed much, but had you?

***

“I thought you wouldn’t come.” Naoya looked you up and down before turning around and leading the way further into the Zen’in state. “Hurry up.”

You walked behind him. “The message I got was not clear, so I really did not have a choice but to come here.”

All the way to the pits of hell.

“Not clear you say.” Even if all you could see was his back, you could tell Naoya must have had that twisted smile of his on his face.

The message your family had received was that you were to attend the Zen’in state to discuss 'matters that would benefit both families if the outcome was positive'.

Only one minor detail: you were to attend alone.

With a family that saw no more than one or two sorcerers per generation, and that was still mainly stablished in the normal world, if one of the major clans in the jujutsu world demanded something, the least you could do was to acknowledge their request.

That was why you had come.

“Is it necessary that you escort me?” you asked him.

Naoya’s pace was firm as you crossed the gardens and marched to a construction where you assumed whoever had asked for you was waiting.

“It is. You’re an outsider after all.”

“You are the ones that invited me though,” you mumbled.

“It’s protocol. You know about that, don’t you?” He did not even try to look at you.

When you reached the building, Naoya’s steps on the wooden floor were not as loud as you had expected them to be.

Coming here was a bad idea.

He stopped in front a closed shoji door, and finally turned to look at you. “Well, it’s here, [name]. The opportunity of your life awaits behind this door.”

Hearing your name from his mouth had always disgusted you, but the condescending look he was giving you made you want to punch him.

“What’s the meaning of this, Zen’in?” you asked.

He replied to your question with nothing but a snigger and you saw his hand reach for the door.

“Behind me,” he commanded and slid the door open.

***

Satoru considered himself a patient, self-controlled man, except when it came to two certain matters.

You were one of those, of course.

He stood behind you while you were standing in his kitchen and, hands on his back, he bent down until his chin was on your shoulder. “How long do we have to wait?”

You did not move and kept your eyes on the oven. “Fifteen minutes.”

“That’s too long for a few cookies,” he complained. “Can we take them out in ten?”

The second thing he could hardly control himself over was, of course, anything sweet.

“Recipe says fifteen,” you deadpanned.

It had been done on a whim. Your fun day out with your best friend had turned into a baking class after Satoru said he had never used his oven because he had just never had the need for it, and it was oh-such-a-waste.

“If only someone would teach me how to bake,” the bastard had said battling his eyelashes as the expert manipulator you knew he could be.

“Fine. Just this one time.”

You had to admit the smile he had given you then had been priceless, and obliging his silly requests once in a while could not hurt, right?

“Well, fifteen minutes is plenty of time,” you heard him sigh softly over your shoulder.

Slowly, you turned your head to him. Months ago, the situation would have had you paralyzed, a hundred thoughts running through your head, fighting yourself on whether or not tell Satoru how you felt. But now, while your feelings were stronger, these quiet moments when you would closely look at each other did not make you uneasy anymore. It felt as if...

I love him.

You blinked when he broke the eye contact and straighten his posture and wrapped his arm around you.

Satoru had always been a bit too unaware of personal space around his friends but still kept the most intimate gestures private, and now, you found his arms more comfortable than ever.

“Are we going to wait here until they are ready?” you asked looking at the closed oven.

Satoru could feel you were leaning against him a little, and it made him smile. “Yeah, I think we can do that.”

***

Another thing Satoru considered himself to be was a reasonable man. However, not you nor Dr. Ieiri in all her wisdom, were finding much reason on what he was proposing right now.

The three of you were in Shoko’s office. You had gone there to ask her about one of your students who had gotten hurt during a mission. After she assured it had not been anything major and the girl would be fine, she let you chat her up while she reviewed a report on her computer.

It was then when you remembered the second reason why you had wanted to talk to her.

“Hey, Shoko, if you had the chance to get a free meal at a new luxury restaurant, would you be up for it?”

“That’s oddly specific for an if-situation,” she commented, keeping her eyes on the screen. “But sure. A free meal is a free meal.”

You nodded and proceeded to tell her how a friend of Ikeda’s had opened a new restaurant and invited him and his lucky invitees to a free dinner. “...And he said I should invite you.”

That made Shoko raise an eyebrow.

From what I saw at the store the other day, I would have thought he would prefer a table for two.

“I would feel like a third wheel,” she smiled knowingly.

“Why is that, Dr. Ieiri?” The question came from the open door behind you and from no other than Gojo in the flesh.

In a few strides, the man Shoko considered a living menace was fully in her office and in front of both of you. “Who would you be third wheeling?” Satoru repeated the questions with an ever-unfaltering smile.

Now then, Shoko had certainly noticed the change of atmosphere around Satoru and you, but she had been kind enough not to comment on it. Anyhow, even if she was still not entirely sure of what her observations meant, she still believed it unfair to be the one that was being questioned, so she looked at you intently.

[name], I'm so not about to tell him that your ex invited us to dinner.

Luckily for her, even if it was not through telepathy, the message got to you somehow, and you told Satoru the same you had just told Shoko: Ikeda’s friend, new restaurant, some sort of gratitude gesture, free dinner.

That was about it, but then, Satoru made the one question you had not expected him to ask.

“Can I come too?”

In theory, that should be fine. Haruki had told you it was a table for four, and he had only invited you but it would be great if you wanted to invite Ieiri so he could get to know one of your friends better.

While Ikeda had never shown any animosity towards Satoru from your perspective, the same was not completely true the other way around. Right, they were adults now, but was it a good idea to have them seat through a three-course meal at the same table?

“If that’s okay with him, that is,” Satoru said with a relaxed smile.

“Su-sure! I will just double check with him. It should be okay though,” you said, against your better judgement.

If Satoru had not been a sorcerer, he could have become a great actor. In some instances, when the situation demanded it, he had found himself able to conceal how he truly felt.

Did he really want to have dinner with Ikeda? Hell no, of course not. Nonetheless, he had not been able to bring himself to openly ask you if he had any reason to worry about Haruki. So why not just face the man himself and assess the situation on his own? That was precisely what he had thought when he overheard your chat with Ieiri.

And oh, would he regret it.

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

Note: Sometimes it's me and a cup of instant noodles against the world.

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part XXIII

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh @stellasloth @bloopsstuff @cheesemachine44 @tetsuski @rosellerinfrost @catowru @bi-narystars @wondermilka

[littleoddwriter]

Trapped | Cooper Abbott x GenderNeutral!Reader | Dark Fic

Hi there! I'm incredibly down bad for him, to nobody's surprise, so here's the first fic I wrote for him. More to come! This fic isn't exactly romantic or even really sexual, albeit with some hints to it; but I used it to get a feel for writing him, first and foremost. And also because I saw somebody wanting a fic where Reader is in Lady Raven's position at the end of the movie, and I wanted that as well, so, here. It's not exactly what was imagined when demanding that, I know, but it's something! (also, excuse the uninspired title, please, it's very tongue-in-cheek, I know, dshjkfgsdkjs) summary; You're captured by the Butcher as his last chance of entertainment - and revenge - before his inevitable arrest or death. There, you learn a lot about him, and also yourself. notes/warnings; GenderNeutral!Reader; Reader is in Lady Raven's position (Reader is a pop star, etc.); slight spoilers for the movie (but I expect you to have seen that if you're reading this anyway); Character Study; Implied/Referenced (Attempted) Murders; Kidnapping; Angst; Implied/Referenced Sexual Attraction; Implied/Referenced Past Child Abuse; Mostly Open End; Dark Fic. (once again, this is not a full on romantic or sexual fic about Cooper and Reader, but more of an exploration of the character, his dynamic with Reader, and Reader's own conflicting thoughts and feelings about the situation and Cooper. there are hints of romance and sexual attraction, though. this is a dark fic and it has a mostly open ending; but it does imply a bad ending if we're realistic. if you're like me, you could also find a way to imagine a better ending to it. that's why I left it somewhat ambiguous.)

The car’s passenger door was slammed shut on you, making you jump with the force behind it. A shaky breath left your trembling lips as you waited for Cooper to settle in the driver’s seat of his wife’s car. Soon to be ex-wife, you figured. If not a widow. 

Your mind was still reeling with the night’s events. One moment, you’d been giving your best for the concert, like you always did, and the next moment, you were stuck with a wanted serial killer because you decided to play hero. Desperately, you hoped it would all be worth it, in the end. Or else this might have been the stupidest decision you’ve ever made. You should have just alerted the FBI when you got the hunch that something was up with the man, you berated yourself internally. 

“Put these around your wrists,” the Butcher told you gruffly, holding up a pair of zip ties to you. 

Stunned, you just looked at him for a long moment, your mind trying to catch up with what he was asking of you. Everything has been happening too fast. Too much, all at once. And worst of all, you were terrified. Yet at the same time, you felt for him. He was a desperate man. Trapped. Cornered. In a way, you were his last resort now. How ironic.

Cooper gave you a stern look, his dishevelled hair covering parts of the upper half of his face, but the fierce glint of desperation and murder in his eyes shone through the brunette strands. 

“Put. These. Around. Your. Wrists,” he commanded again through clenched teeth, shoving the zip ties into your chest, as your hands automatically flew up to catch them.

Shakily, you nodded and put your hands through the loop. Once the zip ties were around your wrists, the Butcher pulled them tight, the thin hard plastic cutting into your skin, rubbing it raw with every small movement. 

As soon as he was certain that your hands were tied, Cooper started the car’s engine and quickly exited the garage and driveway. In the distance, you could hear police sirens on their way to the house you had just left behind. Too late. 

“If only you hadn’t decided to play hero,” Cooper mused with a strained, almost manic, smile on his lips, “None of this had to have happened, you know? I would have let you go.”

“And let you kill more innocent people? I couldn’t bear the guilt, knowing I could have prevented it,” you responded quietly.

“As if you actually care about random people’s lives more than your own. You’re just as fake as they all are. Pretending that you’ve got it all figured out, that you’re fulfilled.” He sounded bitter, angry, spitting those last words in your direction, like your existence has personally offended him. His grip around the steering wheel tightened, turning his knuckles white. 

Not wanting to anger him any further, you decided to stay quiet; even though you had a million things on your mind that you would have liked to retort. 

The FBI had briefed you on what kind of man they figured him to be. A psychological profile, they called it. You had heard about those on TV before, but it always seemed silly to you. How could they possibly know what was going on inside a person’s mind without having ever met them before? With all conclusions based on evidence from crime scenes instead? It didn’t make sense to you.

Until now, that was. Cooper seemed like the exact man the FBI had described to you. Perfect on the outside, an overachieving family man, unassuming, kind, always happy and ready to lend a hand. And beneath all of that, on the inside, there was a hurt child, craving their parents’ love and approval, but never getting it. Now, he let that anger that had manifested out on people he deemed to have had it all, to have what he was missing all his life. 

Deep down, you felt bad for him. If his parents had been different, perhaps there would be one less killer on the loose. Or perhaps, he would have ended up this way, no matter the circumstances of his upbringing. Who was to say that killers like him were only a product of abuse? 

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled into another driveway, getting out of the car. His footsteps were quick and heavy, and your heart was sinking in response to those sounds. 

Ripping the passenger door open, he leaned down to look at you, grabbed your bound wrists and jerked your body in his direction, forcing you out of your seat. Stumbling out of the car, you almost bumped into him, your head barely reaching his shoulder. He really was massive. You stood no chance against him, you thought, feeling defeated. This was it, then. 

Cooper bent over and quickly picked up the bag he had taken with him from the garage, before slamming the door shut once more. And just like he had done before, the Butcher put his fingers on your shoulder, verbally giving you directions for where he wanted you to go, while keeping a dominating presence behind you, not allowing you a real chance to escape.

Eventually, you found yourself in a basement, not unlike the one Spencer, who was hopefully safe now, had been stuck in before. 

The Butcher pushed you down to sit on the cold hard chair in the middle of the room, a support beam right behind it. He made quick work of putting the ice-cold steel chains and cuffs around your wrists and ankles, snapping off the zip ties at last. 

Looking up at him from where you were seated, the sinking feeling of hopelessness creeped in. There was no way you were getting out of this alive. 

Cooper retrieved a cleaver from his bag and pulled out another chair, placing it across from you and sitting down on it, playing with the knife in his hands. He looked at you for a long moment, not saying anything, just breathing calmly, idly stroking the knife’s handle with his thumb of the hand that was holding it. With his other hand, he brushed the loose strands of hair away from his face.

Once again, he was smiling at you. A smile that never reached his eyes, which glinted with murderous intent and something else that you couldn’t quite place. His smile was too big, too sharp, to be genuine. It seemed manic and desperate. Strained. And at the same time, he looked to be in complete control over the situation. 

Cooper Abbott was a man of many facades, you came to realise. 

“I was gonna stop, you know?” he finally spoke up, the tense silence broken by his voice that was laced with too many emotions at once, giving away that he didn’t feel as in control as he seemed to be. 

You waited for him to continue, not daring to ask questions.

“It’s been a while since I last felt the urge. Until you, tonight. I don’t know if it was because of everything that happened, or because I could see right through you… but it was an almost pleasant surprise to feel the urge again.

“Spencer was gonna be my last. That was the plan. Go to the concert with Riley, kill Spencer from the comfort of my home, sneak out hours later, making up some kind of lie of having to work an extra shift because of an emergency, chop him up, dispose of his body and any evidence, return home, and pretend like nothing had happened,” Cooper explained his initial plan for tonight like he was talking about something completely normal, like a family vacation he was planning instead. It was eerie, but somewhat intriguing to you. 

“And then, with time, I would have cleaned out all the houses I had bought to keep my two lives safely apart. I could have been a regular husband, father, and firefighter in just a couple of weeks, maybe months. And no one would have been any wiser on what I had done for all those years that the Butcher was active. It was the perfect plan,” he finished with a frustrated sigh, brushing his hair away from his face again with more force than was necessary. You could hear the steady, but sharp, tapping of his fingers against the cleaver’s wooden handle.

There was a long, tense moment of silence.

You almost felt the urge to apologise for ruining his plans.

“Why did you decide to stop?” you asked, unable to contain your genuine curiosity any longer.

Strangely enough, Cooper’s smile softened, his face relaxed and his eyes lost some of the fierceness in them. “Because I thought that I had finally done enough. The urge had lessened over the years, like I said, I didn’t feel it for a while until tonight. I was just doing it out of routine at this point, I think. Believe it or not, it was fun. And I wasn’t ready to give that up for a while.”

“What changed?” 

“I did… My children changed me. Riley and Logan are everything to me. And I was trying my hardest to be the dad they deserved to have. The one that they needed. A loving, fun, and especially involved, dad. I didn’t want them to feel like I did growing up,” Cooper explained in a wistful tone, “It all started out as just another way to keep suspicions away from me. Starting a family with Rachel seemed like the perfect cover. Nobody would ever suspect that a true family man could be a messed up serial killer, right?”

Despite your current situation, you felt your heart flutter. You understood where he was coming from, and you wished things had gone differently for him. But most of all, you wished that he wasn’t what he was.

“I didn’t expect to actually enjoy fatherhood, or to love my kids the way I do,” he continued after a short pause, still in that oddly wistful tone, a harsh contrast to the entire situation and his true being, “It’s so strange… With everything that happened tonight, I’m just enraged. But I’m less angry about having been found out at all. I’m mostly angry because I’m never going to see my children again.”

This time, you couldn’t resist the urge, and so you whispered, “I’m sorry,” like it was somehow your fault, when in reality, it was his decision to murder people in the first place.

Letting out a long sigh that ended in a small, insincere chuckle, Cooper got up from his chair, meat cleaver in his hand, towering over you like this inescapable force that he was to you. 

With practised ease, he took his shirt off and threw it over the chair behind himself. You had no idea why he would do that. Easier clean-up, maybe? With regret, you realised that you didn’t hate the sight. He was an attractive man, there was no question about that. But to feel such attraction, despite your current predicament, was nothing short of confusing and embarrassing to you. 

“You don’t have to do this, Cooper,” you whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“I wish that was true, but… there’s no escape. Not anymore. I might as well have fun one last time,” he told you quietly with that eerie smile that did nothing to hide his intentions. It only emphasised them now. 

Feeling your heart rate accelerate, your stomach sank with the realisation that this would be it for you. 

It only took two steps for him to stand right in front of and above your seated, captured, cowering form. Before you could utter another plea, Cooper’s free hand wrapped around your throat, almost covering the entire thing with his large palm as his fingers gripped onto your jaw, moving your head further back as he bent down, leaning into you.

A small noise escaped your throat, sounding both distressed and almost aroused. You had no control over that, and it felt utterly humiliating to have made such a sound in response to his actions. 

The Butcher chuckled darkly, a sharp smile playing on his lips, and a glint of intrigue in his eyes. 

“I think I’m gonna enjoy this a lot more than expected…” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath tickling your sensitive skin. 

“Please don’t…” you tried again, weakly, your voice strained from the weight of his hand against your windpipe. 

As you struggled to breathe, and his hand only tightened around your neck, your vision started to blur both due to panic and the lack of oxygen. Darkly, in the back of your fuzzy mind, you thought that at least you’d go out with a handsome face as the last thing you'd see. 

Faintly, in the far distance, you heard police sirens. Or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you.

“If only you had saved yourself…” the Butcher whispered to you before he quickly, and with impressive force, snapped your head back against the support beam behind you, and your world went dark.

[mikobeautifulheart]

7 minutes in panic. College Gojo x reader

1700 WORDS EXACTLY.

The one time you decide to go to a party, it goes wrong.

TW: Use of drugs (U get drugged) and are stuck in a small closet for 7 minutes. (Btw there is no smut, just fluff)

UNEDITED AND VERY SELF INDULGET so it might not make much sense?

You had never been to a party before, let alone one in a cramped dorm spilling with people, even some of them in the hallway standing, drinking, talking and shamelessly making out. 

This is probably what you expected but you couldn't help but feel nervous, god why did you go alone? Was it because you're only 2 reliable friends who knew it was a dumb idea-

Walking down the hallway the smell of sweat and alcohol got stronger filling your lungs almost making you get drunk in the air. Why did you even come? Whatever it's too late to turn back might as well commit.

The room was cramped and the music was muffled by all the people surrounding the speaker. You walked toward the counter and picked up a red cup, typical just like the movies, but nothing bad or dramatic is going to happen to you, right? You held the cup awkwardly looking at your hands, almost hesitating to drink the contents, you didn't know what was in it and the smart people would have their suspicions about it, but why worry? You were to stressed anyway you needed a break.

As much as you didn't mind the workload, you loathed the assigned partnered assignments because you were always paired with Gojo.

You already knew him through your other friends, Geto and Shoko.

You didn't mind always being paired with him and he always did his work load, sometimes you'd have to do a bit of his part but he would always thank you with a surprise, usually some sweets.

The worst part was just that he was...hot. He always made your heart forget how to function when you two work together.

‘“And what are you doing here? I thought you weren't the one to frequent parties?” You were snapped out of your imagination only to be faced with someone's chest- you looked up and wow… it was him, Gojo.

“Uh well um I just, its,” you let out an airy laugh trying to distract him from the blush on your face. 

“I don't have anything to work on right now so I thought id give it a shot…” You subconsciously took a drink out of the cup you were holding, breaking eye contact with him.

“I can tell '' he laughed and smiled pleasantly toward you.

Oh gosh if only you'd have a chance, he's not top of the class but he is smart when he really thinks and a sports legend. His biceps easily make its presence known out of the short sleeved shirt that fit him all too well. He was the dream guy, but you, you thought you were nothing compared to him.

You didn't love yourself but you didn't hate yourself, you sort of just accepted the way you look so you just worked with it.

You turned to leave the party as you heard someone yell

"SPIN THE BOTTLE" followed by loads of cheers.

“Leaving already?” He said with his brows furrowed

“Uh I think i'm going to get some air, it's hot in here” you flashed a smile.

You started to push your way through the crowd. It was rough but then you felt a hand latch onto your wrist.

“Hold on tight” Gojo looked at you before guiding you through the many, many people.

Your heart nearly burst. You eventually reached a window putting your elbows down on the window sill and placing your head in your hands.

“I saw your last basketball game, nice win” You said, giving him a smile before turning your head up to the sky.

“You-you watched my game?”

You looked at him puzzled until you saw him rubbing the back of his neck with a blush creeping up his neck.

“Uh yeah you looked really good to” You said

“LOOKED GOOD PLAYING-” Trying to save yourself from the embarrassing comment you let slip out. Must have been the drink making you lose focus.

There was silence in the air then you heard two familiar voices, it was Geto and Shoko singing along terribly to the song playing with slurred words and drunk voices. 

“I think i'm going to head in again, are you coming? Totally fine if you're not you don't have too” Gojo said looking to the side trying to avoid your gaze.

"I wouldn't mind that'' you said, waking up beside him taking your opportunity.

The door is pushed open and you walk over to Geto and Shoko, you told them you were going with Gojo and might leave early so they wouldn't worry about you.

You mentioned something about Gojo before the room erupted with a mixed reaction of jealousy and excitement. Looking back from your side there it was… a bottle pointing at you. Puzzled you follow the gazes of the room until you realised it was Gojo on the other side of the room looking at you. He was the one that had spun the bottle and accidently roped you into the game "7 minutes in heaven". A guy drags you and Gojo by the wrists and pushed both you guys in a closed down the hallway from the party.

It was dusty and small but still enough space for you to lean against the wall and have one step of space between the two of you. A lock sound was heard outside the door. This was it you were stuck.

"Ha...sorry you are here right now I didn't mean it." Gojo said looking at you in the dark.

You fidgeted in the dark unconfutably. How do you even stand here with the guy you like and do nothing?

“Relax.” The sudden feeling of his head into the crook of your neck threw you off.

You leaned in wrapping your arms around his torso muffling a quick “I like you”.

Oh god, what did you do? You really shouldn't havce come tonight.

You felt him sink into your neck even more and muffle a

“I like you too”. 

You could feel it reverberate against your skin. Gojo slowly pulled back, your body warmth suddenly dropped and you were cold but that didn't matter right now. The urge to kiss him was unbearable.

You leaned in a little closer a jolt of shock ran through your nerves and you felt your legs give way, you couldn't stand up properly and slowly fell forward into Gojo's chest.

“Are-e you okay?!?” he said voice shaky as he held you up and spotted a bit of blood trickling down your lips. 

“I can't feel my legs, I think I'm going to pass out-” you gasped at the sharp pain in your throat causing more blood to trickle down your bottom lip.

“It must have been the drink” he swiftly picked you up bridal style (yessss -////-).

Someone had spiked your drink with how knows what and what it and what they planed to do when it came into effect. It had only been 4 minutes out of the 7 so the door was still locked.

“SOMEBODY OPEN THIS UP” Gojo yelled while kicking at the door.

It wouldn't budge and everything around you went fuzzy. Gojo could feel you going limp in his arms and in panic he kicked the closet door one last time with all his strength.

The door flew the hinges and walked out trying to keep you awake and responding. As he carried you down the hallway there were whispers and snickers.

“Hey man, I can take her from here. She just needs to sleep so hand here over and just enjoy the party.” A seemingly drunk dude said.

“I don't think I will, now move.” Barging past the man harshly quickening his pace to his apartment not too far off campus. It must have been the guy, he must have spiked all the drinks.

The moon shone and your breath slowed down along with your heart rate, everything was foggy but you tried your best to stay awake as you clung onto Gojo’s shirt. 

“Hang in there” He said as he unlocked the door and sat you on his kitchen counter. You were struggling to sit up straight and not fall over while clinging on to the edge of the counter.

the sounds of quick opening and closing of the draws and cupboards filled the room. The tap was on and there were stirring sounds, it was safe to say you had no idea what was going on and your dazed state wasn't helping. 

“Drink this.” he held the cup up to your lips and you drank it, you were too weak to even refuse. Not that you wanted to anyway.

You drank it all and your head leaned into Gojo's back as he placed the cup down on the opposite counter.

You wrapped your arms around him and mumbled a ‘Thanks’ he turned around carefully holding your face in his hands. The blood coming from your lip had dried, he leaned in closer to your face.#

Was it wrong to kiss you now? You were still dazed, but he couldn't help it when you leaned in your head closer and said

“It’s okay” while your vision slowly flooded back, thank goodness that Gojo took notes and remembered the lectures in chemistry with you when you both did the assignment.

Leaning in Gojo looks past you out to the window outside, it began sprinkling and you were in no way in any shape or form, able to walk back to campus in the weather soon to come.

He was so absorbed with his thoughts that he failed to notice his lips brush up against yours.

His eyes widened but when you did pull away he went straight in for it your arms around his neck lazily hanging off his shoulders as one hand supported you back and his other holding the back of your head gently. He slowly pulled back and watched your eyes flutter open, the sight made his heart skip.

“You don't think you'll regret this?” Gojo said with his attention all on you pending for your answer.

“Best first kiss of my life” you smiled at him before pulling him in again by his collar.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: This was very self indulgent. Not my best work but I'll post it just for fun. I haven't written a Gojo fic yet so this isnt totaly great but its an okay start ig. Reblogs r welcomed and thanks for reading.

EDIT: When people ask what my greatest accomplishment is, it's 100% the fact that ponderingmoonlight liked my fic. No hesitation.

[xxfromthestartxx]

We Meet Again (Todo Aoi x Reader)

pairings: Todo Aoi x Fem!reader

summary: You and the muscular third-year from Kyoto Jujutsu High met once again after breaking up for a year due to unknown reasons.

WARNINGS: ANIME JJK SPOILERS!! Language, Violence

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Being a grade 1 sorcerer isn't easy. You were always departed even when you were in your first year. You sigh as you crane your neck to the side, the ache from the battle catching up to you. You recently exorcised a whole abandoned school somewhere, and you were met with a special grade curse. If you were an amateur, you would've run and contacted your superiors, but you were not. You were used to it. You've been exorcising curses since you were a child, and now, you're in your third year, your last year in Jujutsu High. A sigh escaped your lips as the car ride came to an end. You left the car with no words and silently went to the principal's office.

You knocked twice before sliding the door open, "Principal." You were met with the said man, sewing another plush. "You're back earlier than expected." He hummed, not taking his eyes off the plush. "It was nothing I couldn't handle." You replied tiredly, eyes droopy. "Well, then." He finally met your eyes, though he had his shades on. "You can start with the report. I expect to have it by next week." He continued as he observed your state. You hummed, exhausted to even register his words. "You're dismissed." He huffed, knowing you want nothing but to sleep. "Thanks, old man." You yawned as you left the room, wanting nothing but to dive into your bed and sleep the day away.

....

"He what?!" You raised your voice as your juniors told you what happened to them with a Kyoto jujutsu high student. "That's what I was saying!" Nobara huffed, crossing his arms. "Calm down, L/N-senpai, Panda-senpai and Inumaki-senpai arrived before it got dirty." Megumi scratched his cheek, embarrassed at the sight. "Oh, he will pay for that." You gritted your teeth before taking a deep breath. All of you were in the dining area, you surprised your juniors by cooking their breakfast and setting up the table with the food you brought from your mission. "Anyways, how was your mission, L/N-Senpai?" Maki asked, taking a bite of her food. You shrugged and took a sit beside her, putting your head on your palm. "Same old stuff." You answered with a sigh.

"I mean, what am I supposed to tell you? It's the same thing over and over again. I get sent, I kill curses, and I go home." You summarized with a breeze, not in the mood to talk about your recent mission. The others glance at each other before looking at you, not knowing what to say. "Takana?" Toge lifted an eyebrow, "I'm fine, just... tired." You said, well, it wasn't exactly a lie. After discovering that Sukuna has, well, had a vessel, you've been deported to different places to absorb cursed spirits and use them as your own. Your cursed energy might handle it but your physical body has its limits. Before the appearance, your absorbed spirits were only 4 spirits- and you planned to stay that way. But with the higher-ups assigning you those missions, the amount doubled, then tripled, until it was 17, including your last exorcised curse. You're hitting your limit in the worst way possible.

You're cursed technique is easy to understand, it is very similar to Yuuta's and Geto's. You absorb cursed spirits and gain their abilities. But this is where it gets different, the spirit lends you its cursed energy or cursed technique which in return, takes yours for the time being. In short, you swap cursed techniques for the time being. It might affect your physical appearance and mental state. The curse energy impacts your mental health more than your physical, but with the amount of cursed spirits housing your body, it has taken a toll on both physical and mental. You could also imbue the spirit in weapons, making it accessible to you and your peers.

"Look, we're really worried. You've been sent away many times in a short time. Why?" Maki, your closest friend asked, facing you and placing his hand on your shoulder before making you face her. She stared deeply into your eyes, making you anxious. "It's nothing. There's just been a lot of cursed spirits in some area lately." You brush her off, sliding her hands off you. She sighed and nodded, "Whatever you say."

...

The higher-ups must hate you or something - you were supposed to be with your juniors, meeting the Kyoto Jujutsu High Students, but here you were, slaughtering cursed spirits that had threatened the place. You let out a groan as your axe sliced through the curse's head, its body immediately limping. "Fucking old men trying to kill me." You spat some blood, wiping your lips with your palm, sneering. You took a deep breath before standing up straight. You take your phone from your pocket and make a quick call saying that you're done with your mission.

You won't admit it out loud, but you were exhausted - maybe it was because you woke up early in the morning to hunt these curses, or maybe your body was reaching its capacity, not being able to keep up with the cursed energy your soul and other souls were emitting. You rubbed your eyes, the bags under them were dark and big from the special missions from these past few weeks. "Fuck. I need some break." You murmured, throat quite strained from using Aila's speech cursed technique. Alia, one of the cursed spirits housing your body, was a past jujutsu sorcerer who died and got cursed.

Just when you were about to say another word, a ping from your phone got your attention. You huffed as you took it from your pocket- checking what the notification was about. "Are u done with your mission?" You scoffed at the text, seeing that it was from your teacher, Gojo. You rolled your eyes before texting him back a like emoji, not really in the mood for his teasings or shenanigans. You chucked your phone back into your pocket and glanced at the sky. "I really need a vacation."

...

You didn't have time to clean yourself up from the blood of your slaughters- Gojo had requested your presence for meeting the sister schools' students, which is why you were walking with your axe on your shoulder, dried blood on your face, and a scowl resting your lips. If your other classmates weren't suspended, you would've been able to avoid him. You squint your eyes as you see multiple figures down the path, but the oh-so-familiar figure makes you irk. That tall muscular build that you love hate. That you hate so much.

You walked towards them, brows furrowed, lips in a scowl, eyes dark. You heightened your cursed energy, making your presence known to all jujutsu sorcerers. "Ah, there she is." Gojo chimed, smiling at you. You scanned the place, noticing familiar faces, not until your eyes landed on a pink-haired boy. He stared back at you, eyes wide at your appearance, it was like having Sukuna outside of his body. "Didn't expect to see you here." A deep voice said, making both students turn their heads. "We meet again."

"Todo." You forced a smile before rolling your eyes. "L/n." He analyzed your look, noticing the dark circles around your eyes and the dried blood that covered you. "Don't expect me to take it easy on you. I heard what you did to my juniors." You let your gigantic axe down with a thud, the end of the blade hitting the ground while still holding it. "Snitch." He chuckled, leaning forward to you a bit.

"Pick on someone who can go head to toe with you. Like me." You smirked back. Todo held his ground, not backing away from the intense eye contact until a deep voice cleared their throat. "I see you made it in time." Principal Yaga nodded at you. You could only huff, wiping some of the dried blood from your fingers into your already messed-up uniform.

"We'll have our rematch. One way or another." Todo put his hands in his pockets, a wide smirk on his face. "Yeah, whatever." You shrugged, swinging your axe back to your shoulder with ease before going back to your juniors. You took one last glance at Todo before rolling your eyes. 'This is gonna be a mess.' You think to yourself, not only you were here to fight with your sisters' school but to also protect the vessel of Sukuna from them.

...

You and your juniors were now in a room, away from the Kyoto students- discussing what to do. It was a blur to you, you kept spacing out and staring far away. Maybe you were really lacking sleep, or maybe it was the encounter you had with Todo that really got you thinking. "So, L/n-senpai..." Nobara drawled out, pulling you away from your trance. "Hm?" you hummed in response, turning to look at her, only to be greeted by all of them looking at you.

"Do you plan on going toe to toe with Todo?" Maki asked, eyes furrowed. You totally forgot about the event- "It's better if I fight him." You answered unsurely because of the lack of rest and the insane state of your mental and physical health. "But I'm in no shape to hold him off with this state of mine." You continued, taking a deep breath. Yuuji saw your interaction earlier, in fact, everyone did. He doesn't know you but the knocking of Sukuna in his brain is telling him something is wrong with you.

"It's best if I take the cursed spirits rather than fight with other sorcerers." You finally said, making Toge furrow his brows. "Takana?" The second years knew you would never settle for this kind of low, so it was weird for them to see you taking the easy way out. "L/n-san, are you sure about this?" Panda asked, tone full of concern and worry. You couldn't help but smile, the way they care about you is something so heartwarming to you. "Not to worry- I will be there if anyone needs help. I can't have my juniors dying on me."

...

You were right, they do plan on killing Yuuji. Just after the group split up, you felt individual cursed energy in different places but at a close range. It was too weak to be a cursed spirit- so you did the rational thing to do. "Cursed Technique-" You didn't even finish when you felt your body move. Your eyes widened, and an arrow almost shot through you- it was in time when someone behind you moved you easily.

"I told you I'd kill you if you interfered, didn't I?" Your eyes find Todo, shielding you from Noritoshi who had sent you the arrow. "No, you didn't," Noritoshi replied, before sending another arrow after you- this time, you pushed Todo away, blocking the arrow with your gigantic axe. "You said you'd kill us if we ordered you around." Noritoshi corrected, eyes closed.

You let out a tsk, eyes finding Yuuji where you were before. "Same thing! Piss off!" Todo yelled, his muscles bulging. With that, his other peers retreated, but not before Noritoshi reminded Todo. "Make sure you kill him." You grit at his comment, gripping your axe tighter. "That depends on Itadori," Todo replied with a wide smirk, eyes trained on you. You watch as the others retreat, leaving you, Todo, and Yuuji alone.

"You make one wrong move and I assure you-" you point your axe at Todo, your eyes menacing as it is. "You won't have time to activate your technique." You threatened, your axe being imbued with a foul amount of cursed energy. "L/n-san!" Yuuji exclaimed, pulling you out of your intense eye contact with Todo. "I got it." He smiled, putting a hand on your shoulder.

Todo eyed your shoulder, his own shoulder tensing. You looked at Todo, trying to understand his goal- only to be met with those soft eyes. Those eyes that assured you from the past- those eyes that held the same respect and admiration the first time you showed him your strength. Yuuji saw the hesitation in your eyes, but when you took a look at Todo, he noticed the way your shoulder relaxed.

"Yuuji." You drawled out, putting your axe down. "I expect you to beat Todo for me, got it?" Your axe vanished into thin air, which made Todo smile, a genuine smile. "You underestimate me too much, Y/n." He chuckled, shaking his head. Your heart raced at his tone, it was so full of... lightness. Not like the conversation you always had after your first year. It made you bring back memories.

"I trust you, Aoi. I know you." If only you could utter these words to him, but no, you didn't want to bring the conflict to this, instead, you settled on glaring at him. "This fight isn't over, you hear me?" Todo chuckled at your words, "Far from over." He replied, looking directly into your eyes. You could only nod before you fled the scene, taking one last glance before completely dissappearing in their sight.

[elliespuns]

It’s definitely not a hate comment towards the actresses; it’s just a critique of the makeup staff or whoever’s responsible for that. But what I’m getting at is that both Bella and Isabela look way too young; they could pass for 10-year-old girls, and the worst part is they’re trying to sell us on Isabela carrying a child all empowered and Bella taking care of the baby like Dina’s partner??? Bella will end up looking like JJ’s slightly older sister. And can you believe both women, barely 5’1, are going to be taking down every guy in their path??? Good Lord, I’m so frustrated.

And I’m sure as hell we’ll just settle for whatever they give us and eventually accept it, but it’s not what we deserve as fans.

I agree with everything you say. Not here to dis either. I loved season 1 even though there were so many things that made me roll my eyes or mad for actually not happening at all (like all those Ellie and Joel moments they screw us over with by not delivering them and making their bond less impacful). But this is too much. I get it. They can't make the actresses meet the original Ellie's height, but with what the make-up artists can do nowadays, I was at least expecting Bella to age for the show. 

We can't have two (19 and 20) year old girls slaying everyone throughout their way of Seattle if they look like 12 year olds. Not to mention one of them is supposed to be pregnant; how's that going to look? Also, the cast for Jesse? Young Mazino definitely looks like Jesse's real age, so we're now having Dina, who is 12, date Jesse, who's over 20?

I love this duo for how capable they both are as a team. I don't mind that they won't look exactly the same, but the age, chemistry, and dynamics should fit. If I'm not getting this, I don't want anything else. 

I am not the one to point out flaws, and I usually look for the better parts in everything because I can appreciate effort, but I feel no effort really has been put into anything I've seen leaked. It feels like everyone's just pissed that Pedro won't be there on set to light up everyone's day, so they just kind of gave up on trying, or idk. It's just sad.

I can't even start thinking about certain scenes because they get even more hilarious when I imagine them based on what I've seen so far. Can you imagine the weed den scene? I don't want to watch two 12 year olds make out. Or the shamblers encounters? (if there will be any). Not even talking about the farm era, where Ellie and Dina live as a couple with a kid. If they don't make the girls age, nobody will take the whole show seriously. There are already so many people disliking S01 (most of them are game fans), and the creators just keep adding to the pile of dislikes. People are gonna be so angry and upset. 

Look, these are just leaked photos, I get it. Maybe the girls were just testing/practicing. Who knows. Maybe they'll even surprise us. But until then, I know I won't be expecting much because I'd rather expect the worst than expect a lot and then get a slap in the face.

[its-actually-minicika]

THW Aemond's Kink List (18+)

Pairing: Dark!Aemond x Reader;

Warnings: nsfw situations;

Author's Note: You made me do this. You created this monstrosity. I hope this is exactly what you wanted, you sick, sick ppl

I'm done forever I FEEL SO ASHAMED PLS STOP ASKING ME FOR THE LIST NOW I HAVE 2 NEW REQS THAT MENTION IT 😭😀

Just as the title says, this is a basic list that dives into what's going on in that (even more basic) head of his.

I ended up splitting this into halves - one that speaks of his kinks when engaging with a casual sexual partner, and the other that goes into detail about what he's like strictly with the reader.

With Someone He Doesn't "Love"

When it comes to having sex for the simple sake of it, Aemond is a hard dom. He takes what he needs, with little to no regard for the feelings of others, and immediately leaves thereafter.

Although he still likes to give pleasure in his own way, and knows that aftercare is important, he's taking part in an actual war. Which often means he's more needed somewhere else, and is always left pent up and frustrated.

On his partner:

Choking (Breath Play);

Surprisingly sensual - not at all what you'd expect, with how aggressive he is in "The Harshest Winters", outside the bedroom.

Bondage;

No, not with his eyepatch. It takes a lot of trust for Aemond to remove it in the presence of anyone, even more so in the presence of a bedmate. Still, he's not against using the ropes that secure his clothing, or the leathers that go around his waist.

Degradation (Humiliation Play);

It just gets him going - no surprises here.

Impact Play;

Spanking, hair pulling, mark leaving. He's a possessive man, and likes to see the aftermath of his sessions on his willing partner;

Begging;

He'll be as mean and cruel as he sees fit. And the more his lover begs, the harsher he gets.

Sadism;

As seen in "Begging". The bedroom is the one place where he can retaliate on all the shit that he's been through, on all the wrongs that he thinks have been commited against him. Unfortunately, his partner gets to feel the worst of it.

Orgasm Denial;

This is less for the sake of his bedmate's pleasure, as it is for the fact that he needs a lot of time to actually finish.

Aemond hyperfixates on things, and he likes the feeling of finishing at the same time as his partner.

Unless he's close to an orgasm, they won't feel the edge of relief anytime soon.

Sensory Depravation;

Blindfolds, blindfolds, blindfolds. He gets to feel in utter control, and his partner doesn't have to see his scarred face.

Somewhat Roleplay;

If he's been engaging in it before you, he demands his partner to call him their "King", or "Master".

But if it's post meeting you, he just pretends he's doing you, instead. Bonus, he might just choke out your name when he's done defiling you inside his mind.

Edging;

More or less something that's unintentional.

Spitting (?);

I haven't made my mind about this one. To me, THW Aemond is a very clean and up-kept person. He might deem both his seed and saliva to be something dirty, something that shouldn’t be spread around (lmao that's why Alys is pregnant, he just never pulls out).

So if he does spit in someone's mouth, it's more so to degrade them further, or assert his claim over them.

Breeding Kink;

Come on.

We've all seen it coming - nobody's surprised with that one.

Oh himself:

Edging;

If he can spare the time, and he actually likes his bedmate, Aemond would like nothing more than to be edged like no tomorrow - but on his terms.

No, he won't sub for anyone he doesn't love and fully trust, no matter how fond he is of them.

He likes edging, it makes his release all the sweeter, but he'll still be in full control over what's going on, always on top. He controls the pace, the how's and when's, anything really.

Praise;

He loves being told how good he is, and how well he's fucking his current partner.

When it comes to praise, they can be as graphic and as loud as they want (it's actually encouraged, to be honest). The more he's complimented on his skill and stamina, the more fired up he gets.

Size Difference;

He likes to feel big, looming over someone.

He's always been the tiny, and helpless younger brother. Twice as small as Aegon while growing up, the laughing stock of his siblings and nephews.

Aemond loses his mind when his partner is smaller than him (heightwise - weight doesn't really impact him). It makes him feel dangerous and primal, to be able to manhandle someone as he sees fit.

Overstimulation;

This one's also a "only if he likes his lover" kind of deal.

He'll keep pounding in them, well after his initial release; and if his partner times this well, praising him throughout it, he might just finish inside them twice.

BONUS:

Favourite Positions to do the do:

Reverse cowgirl, doggy style, C.A.T, standing, against pieces of furniture or against the wall.

But How Is Aemond With Someone He Cannot Live Without?

If he actually gets you willingly in bed with him (consent is still very important to him), Aemond is a service dom, a very needy and clingy top, and he does border on being a sub.

I'll get this out of the way right now: yes, he would MUCH rather you still be a virgin by the time you guys make love. It's not about purity culture, but he does want to be your "one and only", your first and last.

He's so obsessed and possessive over you, that the simple thought of another man touching what's his sends him in a downward spiral.

Still, if you aren't a virgin, and have some sexual experience of your own under your belt, he might turn your first time into a little game: based on how many men have made you cum, he'll give you 5 times as many orgasms.

You think that's a lot? You think that's impossible?

Don't worry, you have the whole day ahead. And you can always break fast in bed.

On Lady Tully:

Intimacy;

He might not look or sound like it, but this man is whipped and very much soft for you - above all else, he craves that pure intimacy with you, and would do anything to bring you pleasure.

If you waited for your first "I love you" to happen while in bed with him, then Aemond came the moment you uttered the words to him.

Oopsies

Don't worry, though. Tell him you're proud of him, and that he rides the largest dragon in the world, and he'll be up and about again, 10 seconds tops.

Breeding Kink;

Obviously. He wants an army of babies with you, so uh... good luck.

Size Difference;

He revels in being able to grip you in ways that would be considered dangerous for others - a light hand over your neck, a squeeze of both your wrists as he pins you down.

He never once applies pressure, and he's far too scared to hurt you.

But he loves how tiny your hands are engulfed in his, how your eyes dilate as his bigger body presses deeply against yours.

Bondage;

If you want him to, he'll more than gladly tie you up and leave you bare atop the bed, completely at his mercy.

No, he still doesn't think to use the eyepatch - but if you tell him to do it, he will.

Overstimulation;

He would do it to you, again and again, until you can't breathe from pleasure anymore.

As opposed to how it was when he laid with other women, he overstimulates you purely for the sake of your own pleasure.

He wants to give everything to you. Since he's a man of few words (and the ones he ends up saying aren't always all that), his actions speak the loudest here.

Edging;

It makes him feel good, and it enhances his experience ten fold.

He wants to enrapture you in nothing but bliss - since edging works for him, it must work for you, too, right?

Multiple Orgasms;

Aemond is canonically pussy drunk. He'll stay inside you all day and steal as many orgasms as he can from you.

He's sure he loves you, and wants to take care of you. To him, making you cum around him is the best way to show you how sorry he is for all shit he put you though at the beginning of your relationship.

Knife Play;

... Dagger play.

He sees his blade as an extension of himself. Again, he would NEVER EVER hurt you, and would be very reluctant to even suggest such a thing to you.

If he sees you even slightly uncomfortable at the thought of it, he'll never ask you that again, and forget about the idea entirely.

But if you are game to experiment with him, then he'll gently graze the edge of the knife over your smooth skin (being very careful to not break in a single cut) and yeah, he will use the hilt to... you know.

Stop, he's actually so gross JSKKSKS

BODY WORSHIP;

He senses any insecurity you may have and makes it a point to make that part of your body his new praying altar.

Yeah, he's overcompensating for keeping you in a dungeon during the 1st month of your imprisonment.

Praise;

Loves whispering to you how good you're being for him, how good you make him feel, how much he loves you.

Marking;

You're all his now, and he lives to show it.

If you're modest, and don't like people staring at your hickeys and red marks, prepare to be wearing high collars all the time, even in the midst of summer.

Oral;

If he could spend his whole life with his lips over your cunt, Aemond would die a happy man.

The first time he ate you up, he immediately came into his pants.

Naww, that's just sad, dawg

Light Roleplay;

If you aren't married yet, he 100% roleplays that you're his wife in High Valyrian.

He actually proposes to you in High Valyrian everytime he cums.

BAHAHA IT'S TRUE

The beauty of role-playing with Aemond is that you don't even have to pretend to be anyone else. He does all the work in a language you already know.

He thinks he's very slick with it, but one day you'll stop abrupty and actually give him a reply, and he'll go completely nuts

Voyeurism;

He likes to focus on you pleasuring yourself with no other distraction, and focus in on your face.

He's been engaging in this ever since you started sleeping in his Chambers, let's be honest: sure, you're not actually doing anything sexual in the beginning of your stay with him, but Aemond finds anything you do alluring.

Brushing your hair, yawning, reading a book - everything gets him going.

On himself:

Anything.

Okay, there are some exceptions to this rule, but this isn't a joke. As stated before in his inner thoughts, this man will take ANYTHING that you willingly give him.

If you're into hitting him, slapping him, marking him, pulling his hair, denying him release, degrading him, spitting on him, stepping on him, whatever else - he's more than 1000% down for all that.

You could be so cruel to him, and he'd still be more than thankful just for getting you naked.

Since it's coming from you, and he's so "in love", Aemond won't bat a single eyelash at you, no matter what you suggest him to do.

Even so...

Hair Pulling;

It's one of his favourites. He couldn't tell you why, but he quietly loves it when you try to assert dominance over him;

Praise;

I don't need to elaborate.

Edging;

It prolongs the intimate moment with his lady, and it tests his self-control and focus.

Overstimulation;

He sees it as a very intimate experience, and he doesn't do it with everyone.

It's even more different when he does it with you - he sees it as a wordless way to surrender to you, and let you do whatever you want to him.

While he needs to be in full control with a random lover, Aemond easily lets go with you, and enjoys the stability that comes with the unexpected. You decide how everything goes, you run the show with him.

Knife Play and Blood Play;

He thinks it's really exhilarating to be at your mercy. It takes a lot of trust from him to be suggesting such a thing.

Multiple Orgasms;

He's been with plenty other women, and his sex drive isn't as high as you'd expect. But there's something that you do to him that makes him insatiable.

Light Bondage;

Yep. Tie him up a little bit and use him to your heart's content.

Mutual Masturbation;

Mhm.

BONUS:

Favourite positions to do the do:

Side-by-side scissors, spooning, missionary, mating press, legs on shoulders, standing, cowgirl

[ilovetheriddler]

Birthday Celebrations.

(Arkham Games.) Edward Nigma x F!Reader.

Word Count: 744.

Contents: Some Fluff, Eddie's reluctant to admit that he cares, Kissing.

Eddie wasn't exactly even sure why he was willingly taking time away from his work to do this?! It's not like your birthday truly had any importance to him... or at least that's what he'd insist if ever asked. Truth be told, as much as he didn't want to admit it, he had grown to appreciate you and your assistance to him and his plans. So perhaps it wasn't the absolute worst thing to take a few minutes to make things a bit more... festive for your special day.

He decorated as he saw fit, It was a lot of the color green and a lot of question marks painted on everything, so more so what he'd want for birthday decorations and less so what you'd want. But for Eddie, this was still a lot of time and effort pulled away from his work to do this for you. He even went through the trouble of baking you a cake! Now... the fact that his kitchen wasn't fully working and definitely needed some work done on it did mean that it wasn't the most delicious cake, but it's the thought that counts!

You were actually somewhat taken back with surprise when you returned with the spare parts that Eddie had asked you to go retrieve for him. You honestly couldn't believe that he actually did all of this for you.

He was standing over next to the table, begrudgingly wearing a green party hat. You had to stiffle a laugh at how ridiculous it looked, but it also warmed your heart. He cleared his throat loudly.

"Well? I expect some type of excessive thanks for doing all this!"

"Thank you, Eddie, this is really sweet of you to do... I can't believe you actually remembered my birthday"

He let out a scoff sound as if he was slightly insulted by your expectance of him forgetting it.

"Don't be ridiculous! I have it written down with the rest of the important information I need..."

"Oh? So my birthday is important information to you, is it?"

"... Don't get too full of yourself over it.... i just... need it in there because you're my assistant... no other reason...."

You were a bit shocked and amused once you saw what appeared to be a faint pinkish red hue just barely present on Edward's face. Was he actually a bit flustered? The brilliant Riddler, flustered? It was unheard of, and you were enjoying the fact that you had been the cause of it. It faded after a bit, and his usual slightly irritated look resumed its proper place on his face.

"Now, I'll have to give you something at a later date because I simply didn't have any time to track you anything down as a present. Unsurprisingly because I'm quite a preoccupied man, as you're aware."

"How about a kiss?"

Your sudden request threw him off for a brief moment before he processed what you just asked for, and a somewhat smug look graced his features.

"Oh, so you want a kiss from me? I suppose i can't fault you for desiring such. After all, I am quite amazing... hmm... very well then, I guess there wouldn't be any harm in me allowing you such a thing... but... don't start expecting me to give you affection whenever you want, I don't have time for that!"

"Oh, of course... you're such a brilliant and busy man, Eddie..."

"Yes, I indeed am!"

After you had fed Edward's ego some more, he slowly backed you up against the nearest wall, his gaze intense and focused as he was clearly putting more thought into this than he'd ever admit, before crashing his lips into yours in a surprisingly somewhat desperate and needy kiss. Perhaps Eddie did need more affection than he let on? After what honestly felt like an eternity, not that you were complaining, he pulled away, his breath leaving him in heavy pants as he tried to regain some air into his lungs.

"Happy Birthday.... I guess.. I-I'm going back to my work! Batman isn't going to destroy himself at this rate!"

You watched as Edward made his way into his little workshop, clearly using it as an excuse to hide how genuinely flustered and worked up the previous moment had gotten him. You had actually got the one thing you really wanted as a gift, Eddie's affection, and with how rare that was, it was truly a priceless gift.

[envirae]

you're losing me — jay park

pairing: idol!jay x reader genre: angst wc: 1.1k warnings: intentional lowercase cursing, toxic relationship, jay is a horrible bf, not proofread

series masterlist

as an idol, jay's line of work simply did not allow for a "normal" relationship. his company didn't really care if he dated or not, as long as he was incredibly smart about it. which he was, sometimes.

you were one of jay's classmates at hanlim, and from his first day there, you had caught his eye. the stolen glances from across the room, his not-so-subtle attempts to sit next to you in class, and his even more obvious attempts to constantly make you laugh.

it was no surprise when jay confessed his feelings to you the day of graduation.

when you decided to accept his feelings, you knew exactly what you were getting into. a part of you even knew it was doomed from the start. but when you looked into jay's eyes and felt an overwhelming sense of home, you just felt you had to try. 

and he was perfect, at least in the beginning. he tried his best to see you often, even if you two couldn't go out on dates like normal. he made it clear that he would always put his career first, and you respected that. you told him you would always be there to support him, even if it hurt you a little.

and then, about two years into your relationship, you noticed a shift. he used to spend nights sneaking out just to see you, but some nights you were struggling to even get a goodnight text from him. he used to hold you in his arms for hours, but now it felt like you were always waiting on him.

you tried your best to make it clear to him how you were feeling, yet he always brushed it off as you being overdramatic. not wanting to cause more problems, you believed him.

one particular night, jay texts you around 8 pm, asking you to come to the dorm. you were too excited about the fact that he wanted to see you to notice that he didn't want to come over to you, or even offer to pick you up.

and when you get there, he lets you in before rushing straight out the door, telling you, "not to go anywhere," and that "i'll be right back."

you sit on the couch, feeling awkward and out of place. you make small talk with some of the boys for a bit, and you don't miss the look of pity on heeseung's face.

when jay finally returns, it's past midnight. he opens the door and puts his things down before taking his seat next to you. you can't believe that you actually waited 4 hours for him, and that he doesn't even have the nerve to apologize.

you would say it's hard to believe he would do something like this, but this wasn't even the first time. were you really okay with just forgiving him each and every time? and you had put up with it countless times before, but you were slipping through his fingers.

"are you kidding me, jay?" you breathe out, trying not to sound angry, although you very much are.

he's caught off guard, but he simply raises a brow and responds, "what do you want me to say? i forgot something at work."

"and that took you four hours? do you really expect me to believe that?" you were baffled by his shamelessness, but both of you had too much pride to back down at this point.

“yes, i do. you don't think i'm lying, do you? i didn't mean for it to take so long, but once i was there i just got caught up. i don’t understand why you're being like this, y/n.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

 “i know you don’t understand, jay. because you never listen to me! you never even try!" your voice was shaky, and you could hardly get your words out without tearing up.

jay looked at you in disbelief, as if you had just said the most outrageous statement to him. "ok, so what exactly do you want me to do about it, y/n?"

"just do something, jay, anything! show me that you're in this like i'm in this. it feels like you're fighting with me, not for me." you choked out through tears.

"so what, you're saying that i don't care about you? i'm just the worst boyfriend in the world? you know my work is difficult i just-"

"i don't give a fuck about your work, jay! i have stood back and taken all of your shit for two years, and i never said a word about it. i know you're capable of loving me properly, so why don't you? why do you keep ignoring me? i'm right here, jay." you cut him off. his expression was blank, and you knew there was really no point in trying to voice your feelings when he just didn't care. "i just want you to choose me."

it felt like a knife was being twisted in your chest. what are you supposed to do when the person who your heart beats for is now the same person shattering it into pieces?

"i can't do that for you, y/n. i just can't give you what you want from me." he stood there, watching you cry.

you couldn't believe it. how could he claim to love you but be perfectly okay with watching you cry in front of him?

"then i'm done, jay. i'm not gonna wait around for you anymore." he nodded.

"if this is what you want, i'm okay with it." he said, disappointed. you knew it was bullshit. you knew he didn't care about what you wanted. what you really wanted was him, but there was no point in telling him that anymore.

you got up to leave and decided to look at him one last time. he was the same person who brought you flowers once a week and told you that you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. and now, you didn't know a single thing that was going through his head.

"i'm sorry, jay. that this didn't work out."

he nodded and walked away before you were even out the door. he didn't even care enough to watch you leave. your chest felt heavy as you left the dorm. the moment you closed the door behind you, you collapsed to your knees sobbing.

you knew that jay hadn't really been in the relationship for months, but you couldn't believe it was really over. you had given him everything, and you weren't really sure who you were without him. but it was over, and there was nothing you could do about it.

what you couldn't stop thinking about, though, was that in the end, you were still the one apologizing.

taglist (open): @misokei @nhularin @girlokarina @jaeyunsimswife @hanienie

[celiaswriting]

new kid (m.r)

context: mattheo is the new kid at school and he bumps into a certain y/n potter...

insomnia. you were almost positive it was the worst thing to exist - behind potions with professer snape but that was a story for another day...

2:37 am, the clock read. and yet here you were, wide awake, putting on the thickest jumper you could find, getting ready to brave the icy november air all for a cigarette; a habit you swore to all your friends you had broken months ago.

you couldn't help it. it was the only thing that calmed you down enough and made sure you actually got some sleep, even if it was only an hour before you were woken up by your extremely noisy dorm mate getting ready for her daily run. although, seeing her so energetic every morning was only a reminder of your constant fatigue.

making your way to your usual smoke spot, the astronomy tower, you faltered as you realised someone was already walking up the stairs towards it.

mattheo riddle.

you took a couple of steps back as you considered just walking back to your dorm but decided you couldn't bear the torture of laying in your bed staring at your ceiling till the early hours of the morning.

despite mattheo only arriving at hogwarts yesterday morning, everyone knew who he was. voldemort's son. but you, being harry potter's elder sister, everyone knew who you was too.

you knew you should just go back to the safety of your bed and maybe try to actually stop this bad habit but a part of you couldn't.

mattheo could be just like his dad. everyone at hogwarts is already saying he's evil. but what if he isn't?

mustering up some confidence, you walked up the narrow stairs towards the astronomy tower and sat down in your usual spot.

avoiding eye contact with a certain riddle, you got out your lighter, lit your cigarette and took a slow puff.

"mind if i borrow that?" mattheo questioned as he saw your lighter.

"mhm?" you say, completely oblivious to what he said.

"your lighter." he chuckles slightly as he holds up his un-lit cigarette.

"ohh. yeah sure." you say as you get up to pass him the lighter.

"thanks.. so, what's your name?" he asked he passed you back the lighter although his eyes remained on his cigarette.

"y/n. you're mattheo right? voldemort's son."

"yep. do you have a problem with that?" he asks, his tone, turning slightly bitter with annoyance.

"nope. just asking..." you reply, sitting down next to him.

"sorry. people aren't exactly lovely to me when they find out who my dad is. so... what year are you in?" mattheo questions.

"same as you. i think we're in potions together."

"oh yeah. are you in slytherin." he asks.

"nope. ravenclaw." i say.

"so you're just snobby then?" mattheo rolls his eyes.

" no! and did you really expect harry potter's sister to be in slytherin?" i say while laughing softly and lighting a new cigarette.

"you're harry potter's sister?" the curly haired boy asks, surprised.

i nod.

"why are you talking to me then?"

"believe it or not. i'm not scared of you, riddle." i say.

"why not?" he smirks.

"why should i be?" I retort.

"uhh i don't know." he says, sarcasm laced through his voice.

"maybe because i'm voldemorts son or maybe because the whole school thinks i'm evil. why don't you join the trend?"

"i don't think you're evil." i say.

"why not. everyone else does." mattheo replies, avoiding eye contact.

"because you're not like your father."

"how do you know? what if i end up becoming like him and just end up proving everyone right?" he asks.

"bad people don't worry if they're bad people, mattheo." i shiver and take another puff of my cigarette.

"are you cold?" mattheo asks, laughing slightly at your shaky hands.

"freezing." you say, teeth chattering.

"here. take this." he says taking his coat of and handing it to you.

"thanks, riddle. see! further proof you're not evil." you say smiling and quickly grabbing the coat off of him.

"well, i do have some manners you know." mattheo smiles as you rush to put the coat on.

"i've always thought it was beautiful up here. esspecially on a night." you say as you stand up; partially to admire the view and partially so i don't freeze to death.

"mhm." mattheo murmrurs.

"so.. um. what's it like being the chosen one's brother then?" mattheo jokes.

" i mean. I love my brother to bits but everyone views being his brother as this amazing thing but it feels a bit more like a burden to me." you tell him.

"constantly worrying if he's in danger, always getting asked what it's liked to be a sister of the famous 'boy who lived'. but harry doesn't deserve this all either. he's just a boy and i'm his only family left."

"it's your fault your brother is suffering,  y/n." mattheo says, turning to look at me.

"and it's not your fault your dads insane."

"thanks." he laughs softly and i'm sure it's one of the most delightful sounds i've ever heard.

"i like you, y/n." he says quietly.

"i like you too mattheo." i  feel y

my cheeks go red as i huddle myself in his coat.

"i wanna try something." mattheo spoke, his voice suddenly lower.

"go ahead." i reply as he takes a puff of his cigarette and blows it into my mouth.

i close my eyes and sigh.

"look at me." he says and my eyes flutter open, slightly nervous by how close we are.

"would it be okay if i kissed you now?" he asks, a suttle blush creeping on his face.

"definitely." i say and he leans in and softly presses his lips softly against mine.

his soft yet calloused hands ran down my sides and slipped under his coat as i sighed. you never knew someone who's kisses we're so soft yet so addicting.

he pulled away and laughed quietly before smiling down at you.

"thank you for believing i'm not completely evil, potter." he says.

"you're welcome, riddle." i laugh as he leans in to kiss me again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

okay i wrote this a while ago and this is the first one shot i ever wrote.. AND i haven't re read so i’m sorry if it's just cringy but I hope you enjoyed!!

[thevulturesquadron]

THAT LATEST EPISODEEEE

Okay okay I have many thoughts and I apologise if this is gonna end up very incoherent and disjointed but I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT BECAUSE AHHHHH

You know what the episode did very well (the writers, man)? Make the audience feel like they're taking crazy pills. There's this almost cognitive dissonance from the rest of the squad (Charles esp) with the way they say and behave because as Rogue stated "none of you were there". This is SO good in showcasing that you can be as understanding as you want, be literally a part of the same group... and STILL it's not enough because you didn't have the (in this case unfortunate) exact experience. The previous episode is a great addendum to this. The rest of humanity's (majorly the big wigs of course but you get what i mean) scared and at worst callous and apathetic reaction to the genocide. They're not scared because of what happened to those mutants, they're scared because of what Magneto would do in retaliation. Cooper is another example of how much actual experience can wholly change a person. She's not a mutant... but she was THERE. Erik and Rogue were there... right in the middle of it. How does anyone expect SOMETHING to not happen. You know who else saw what happened? Us, the audience. The latest episode felt frustrating and cathartic in the best way. It felt like decades of repressed righteous anger spilling in the most messiest manner, but it's OUT there. It needed to be said. Rogue's rant at the group before joining Erik, Erik's iconic "SHUT UP" line (yo lemme tell you istg i said the EXACT thing after that drivel Charles said). That's another thing that was so well done. Showcasing that no matter how well meaning Charles is... sometimes it feels like the dude's not LISTENING (Erik talks about watching a child be eviscerated in front of his very eyes, and I feel like all he's getting from others is an 'aw im sorry thoughts and prayers now can you please CHILL out') and does need this slap in the face. And the consequences keep piling up (the last big thing being what happened to Logan). Nothing will ever be normal and it's sad and scary and I'm very much looking forward to what comes next.

On a small note, showing how Roberto's decision was unsure with him trying to apologise to Jubilee and then his shocked reaction at her not wanting to hear him was so sad. It truly felt like a boy who only realised how massive of a consequence he's facing but just wanting his friend back.

I'm pretty sure I had more things to say and a more thoughtful way of saying them but anyway... 10/10. VERY ANGERING AND FANTASTIC. I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE LAST EP!!!

HI!!! ✨SAME!! 💜💜💜💜 thanks for coming in kicking the door down and shouting my way cause I needed that!! My brain has been stuck on a loop with the events in E9.

I love, love, love this episode exactly because of the strong emotions it made me go through. To see the division, to see where everyone stands, to see what matters most to them: what they are going through or an ideal? It. Was. So. Good! It was skin itching to see it at the same time. Each episode has continued to take me by surprise and go beyond my expectations.

I love how well the writers have been able to portray the difference between people who have been through horrible events, and those who have seen them ‘on screen’. Remember in episode 7 when Amelia said 'a survivor is the last thing I’d wanna be.’? Now it resonates even more than ever. It’s poetry. And yes, Cooper isn’t just someone who ‘saw it Magneto’s way’. No. She was one of the perpetrators caught in the middle.

So that when Scott goes around saying ‘Magneto is responsible for this.’ When Wolverine is out for blood - it should make you angry cause it feels like the crimes that Bastion has orchestrated are secondary to the X-men's agenda of 'righting a wrong'. Bastion is just a battle, another villain they need to defeat. But the call was coming from inside the house all along.

I’ve seen people online saying that this episode did Magneto dirty. But I think it’s the opposite. Magneto had always been capable of awful things in his pain and anger, but that’s not the point the writers are trying to make. The name of the episodes is ‘Tolerance is extinction’ - the whole point is to put the viewer in the uncomfortable position of understanding Magneto’s anger, but knowing his actions have big consequences, all the while making you lose your mind at how backwards and ignorant Charles' side seems. People are dying because ultimately his dream is more important than the people the dream is made for. And Rogue and Magneto are calling him out on it. The beauty of it is that Charles is preaching an ethical way where everyone matters, but how entitled and arrogant he must come across when everyone else around him is just ‘sacrifices he is willing to make’ for the sake of an ideal. It’s beautiful and awful that the cry for battle and survival is coming from the mouth of those that have nothing left but violence in them, while the champions of the just offer shackles and tell those that suffer to endure more for the greater good.

Yes this episode is supposed to make people angry and confused. And I think it succeeds.

If there is one less positive thing to say about the show, it's the pacing. You can feel that they were forced to put everything in just 10 episodes because there are a lot of moments throughout the show that are either missing or rushed. (For ex. in this last episode I would have liked to have scene with Rogue and Roberto on Asteroid M, in a similar fashion to what we got for the two X-men squads; just a glimpse at how things are impacting them instead of immediately seeing them in a 'villain guards' roles.) But I am not going to hold it against the show; from what they've delivered it reads a lot like cuts that they needed to live with.